A Different World: The Noble Cities [IC|Closed]

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Wed Feb 17, 2021 10:00 am

Deepkin

Hall of Mighty Men, Forgefend
Thirteenth of First Seed, Year Twohundred Thirtyfour of the Reckoning

"We'll have to go after them."

Heads bobbed around the table as the armored men somberly contemplated the map of the lands around the City of Fires. The squadleaders had been in the right place at the right time to drive back the barbarians who came just before winter hit, but with the thaw covering the lands now, many in the settlement thought it only a matter of time before the wild men returned. And providence might not favor the defenders of the city again. They had to strike now, before the miscreants rallied and came once more against fathers and mothers and wives who could not defend themselves.

The fathers of Government Hill in fair Kharbarinth had feared just this outcome when the second sons and cousins had petitioned them to be allowed to go forth to Forgefend and make a new home for the Deepkin. The world was wild, untrammeled, untamed, and her vagaries could neither be predicted in full nor guarded against in surety. Where the scions of old had secured the City of Bells against assault with mighty walls, Forgefend had no such defenses to ward her against querulous or insidious assault.

Only the wall of blood and bone and iron and will.

"Assemble your sections. We march with the dawn."

Their coats of glittering scale-mail concealed beneath surcoats of sable and white, their swords sheathed but ready for action, the hundred sons of the city set forth into the untamed wilds of the east. From thence came the wild men, from the great temperate forests of pine and oak and shattered hills. Into these wilds then the men of civilization must venture, or else live forever in fear of barbarism.

by **Olthenia** » Wed Feb 17, 2021 11:42 am

Faces of the Riverside Republic

An Assembly of Equals

"I ғɪɴᴅ ɪᴛ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ sᴜʙᴍɪᴛs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴀ sɪɴɢʟᴇ ᴍᴀɴ - ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ Cᴏᴜɴᴄɪʟ ᴛᴏ sᴀғᴇɢᴜᴀʀᴅ ᴍʏ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ɪɴ ʀᴜɪɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴀɢᴏ." -Anders Shoreblessed, Founder and First Archon

This powerful portrayal of a man of action belongs to a type popular in the latter part of the second century. One suggestion for his identity is the archon Anders Shoreblessed; said to be the father of Rivermouth’s famous form of government. He wears a helmet of distinctly Riverman make, pushed up and resting on the back of his head. The helmet itself is elaborately decorated in relief with griffins on the bowl and rams’ heads on the cheek pieces and is similar to a type worn by divine hero-images common to that era. His eyes would have been inlaid in another material, and the head itself worked for insertion into a statue.

At some point around the year 200 of Hegemonic Reckoning, the Riverman Anders Shoreblessed introduced a system of political reforms to Rivermouth called “deimos-kratios”, or “rule by the people” (from deimos, “the people,” and kraitos, or “power”). It was the first known democracy in recorded history. This system was comprised of three separate institutions – foremost of which was the Assembly, a sovereign governing body that wrote laws and dictated foreign policy; the judgement of “ostracism”, in which a citizen could be expelled from Rivermouth for a number of years, was among the powers of the Assembly.

Any member of the city—male or female, wealthy or poor—was welcome to attend its meetings, which were held 40 times per year in a hillside auditorium west of the city centre. All citizens who have lived for sixty turnings of the seasons – that is, fifteen years - are eligible to vote, regardless of trivialities like sex or wealth. Uniquely, even foreigners who pursued the Rite of Citizenship before the Council were welcome to attend. At the meetings, the Assembly made decisions about war and foreign policy, wrote and revised laws and approved or condemned the conduct of public officials. The group made decisions by simple majority vote.

Often loud and raucous affairs, Master Axford has described these assemblies as the birthplace of the saying that “If there are three Riverfolk in a room, there will be six opinions!”

A Council of Artisans

"Nᴇᴡ ʜᴏᴜsɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀᴄᴇ? I'ᴍ ɪɴ - ᴍᴀᴍᴀ ɴᴇᴇᴅs ᴀ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ'ᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴛᴏ Oʙʟɪᴠɪᴏɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ." –Jaina Oakenblade, Junior Archon of the Hand

Jaina Oakenblade was just seventeen when she participated in the founding of the Republic. To date, she is the only woman to have been chosen as Archon while still in her teens. In Riverfolk art, this statue represents a depiction of the young Jaina either recently risen from her bed or stumbling home late at night after a particularly demanding debate. Emphasising her humble origins, her chiton is unfastened at one shoulder and belted at the waist with a makeshift bit of bridle. Despite her otherwise dishevelled state, her face shows no sign of pain or fatigue. She leans lightly on a pillar at her left and rests her right arm gracefully on her head in a gesture often used to denote sleep or exhaustion. Such emotional restraint was characteristic of classical art of the second half of the second century of Hegemonic Reckoning. The original statue probably stood in the precinct of the great temple at Rivermouth, where the Oakenblade family is known to have maintained legendary and cultic connections with their famous matriarch.

Jaina Oakenblade is today most famously associated with the second most important institution of Rivermouth’s government; the boular, or Council of Five Hundred. The boular was a group of 500 men and women, 50 from each of ten so-called “craft-tribes” – professional collectives of dedicated craftsmen and artisans - who served on the Council for one year. Unlike the Assembly, the boular met every day and did most of the hands-on work of governance. It supervised government workers and was in charge of things like building walls and planning housing districts. It also dealt with ambassadors and representatives from other city-states, and conducted trade negotiations. Its main function was to decide what matters would come before the ekklesia. In this way, the members of the boular dictated how the entire democracy would work.

Positions on the boular were chosen by lot and not by election. This was because, in theory, a random lottery was more democratic than an election: pure chance, after all, could not be influenced by things like money or popularity. The lottery system also prevented the establishment of a permanent class of civil servants who might be tempted to use the government to advance or enrich themselves. However, the historian Hank Skyhill has argued that selection to the boular was not always just a matter of chance. “Wealthy and influential artisans--and their relatives--served on the Council much more frequently than would be likely in a truly random lottery.”

Popular Prosecution

"Yᴏᴜ sᴀʏ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ sʜᴏʀᴛ ᴏɴ ʟᴀʙᴏʀ... ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ғɪx ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ sʜᴏʀᴛ ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ sᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴄᴇɴᴛ sᴇᴛ ᴏғ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ." –Jacob Moonwhisper, Archon of the Blade

This life-sized statue of boy-Archon Jacob Moonwhisper was found on the northern bank of the Great River, popularly thought to be the centre of Rivermouth’s commercial district. With his broad face and short hair, Jakob Moonwhisper is probably the most divisive of Rivermouth’s early archons. The son of Founder Anton Moonwhisper, he took his father's place as Archon of the Blade once his father had completed three and a half terms, but his position as the young face of the political faction known as the “Swordborn” or “Swords”; militants who pushed for the conquest and enslavement of foreign peoples, made many ill at ease. His short cloak or “himation” is as much a fashion statement as it is a symbol of his martial allegiances.

The third important institution was the popular courts, or dikasteria. Every day, dozens of jurors were chosen by lot from a pool of citizens. Of all the democratic institutions, Master Axford has argued that the dikasteria “contributed most to the strength of democracy” because the jury had almost unlimited power. It was as the wielder of this nearly unlimited power – in his position as a feared public prosecutor and champion of the dikasteria – that Jacob Moonwhisper made his reputation. There were no police in ancient Rivermouth, and so it was the citizens themselves who brought court cases, argued for the prosecution and the defence and delivered verdicts and sentences by majority rule. There were also no rules about what kinds of cases could be prosecuted or what could and could not be said at trial, and so citizens of Rivermouth frequently used the dikasteria to punish or embarrass their enemies.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Wed Feb 17, 2021 3:49 pm

Welcome to the Geographic History Radio Channel! Today, we will be exploring the first wonders built by mankind. We'll be on the topic of the House of Wisdom, built by the early republic of Machaka in the ancient age. This structure is important to our understanding of the fledgling people of Machaka since it holds their very-early great works of writing and mathematical theory. Not only that, but it also contains some of the first proto-political philosophies ever written in history. You can see a good chunk of the recovered writings in the displays in the international historical museum, but much of the books were lost to the ages. We estimate some 1,000 books were forever destroyed by the course of mother nature. We estimate the House of Wisdom to be around 26 to 28 feet in height and 80 to 100 in width. While that is not impressive in our day, you have realized that early-Machaka only had around one-thousand people total. This would be a big feat of engineering and building for the time. Stay tuned for more!

by **The Knights of Azorea** » Wed Feb 17, 2021 4:58 pm

Velathri, The City of Eyries

Born of dozens of villages and more than as many tribes, Skithro's city was home to many folk of many kinds and complex kin. Much of her earliest decades were spent in kinstrife between the many tribes. Though later the tribes coalesced and a more rigid order developed, this process was in its infancy in the new period marked by the first Archonate of Kelvus and Clusien. For now, the city was organised primarily along four main social lines, anchored around her prime ruling institutions.

The first, and to most the most important, was the distinction between alinatons, between the ancestral communities to which each of the Velathrii belonged. Even before the synoecism, the gathering of the tribes, most Velathrii identified with an alinaton for reasons more complex than the mere accident of where they happened to live. Each was associated with a selection of civic lares, protective spirits, one or two priestly orders and sometimes a sanctuary-temple. All but the smallest celebrated their own Alinatal festivals, and each household within an alinaton had some title to cultivate the ancestral communal land of the settlement. With the foundation of the city several alinatons came to be especially wealthy, and adoption into these was often a major step in a political career. Notable especially were the five Utinat Alinatons - those made up of outsiders and nomads, who had no ancestral settlement. At first utinatoi, those tied to these nomadic alinatons, were disdained as foreigners, barbarians and philistines, but their control over the best pastureland, and over the hardiest soldiering men, proved a decisive point in their favour.

After the alinatal distinction, the people of Velathri were divided along tribal lines. Each tribe called back to a handful of eponymous ancestors, and each in turn celebrated its own heritage and series of festivals, tied to its own ancestral gods within the broader pantheon. The tribal kings were the primary power-brokers, both before and after the founding of the city, as it was the tribe that commanded most military and economic loyalty. Each household paid a part of its wealth to the tribal treasury, and each outfitted its own part of the city's armed forces. Tribal festivals were often centred on raising the tribe's set of soldiers for a given recruiting campaign, and tribal kings held much military and priestly authority as the chief priests of the tribe's ancestral cult. The kings and chiefs were eligible to sit in the Maphron, though some sent close relatives also inducted into the tribal priesthood. The largest tribes held precedence, while the smallest were often marginalised in Velathri's earliest periods.

The priesthoods ran through Velathrii society from top to bottom. The wealthiest tribal kings and the poorest hermit-augurs both held priesthoods. Some were hereditary, others elected, others still received by the allotment of omens. Each came with restrictions and priveleges - from wild augurs who were prohibited from entering the city to tribal lamentation widows who were kept from leaving it. Some could not eat the flesh of beasts, or cross running water, while others were bound to certain sacrifices. All, though, were given the right to sit on the Legium, and most of the greater priesthoods had rights to legal judgement or to pass penance. Assembled in the Legium, too, they could make their own laws, or strike down the Maphron itself. The contentious assembly, filled with rancorous hermits and Maphron-kings both, very seldom gave judgement, but its word was beyond contradiction, and in it even the poorest priests carried the same weight of votes.

Last were the bonds born after the city's foundation - those between neighbours, employers, clients and patrons. Extremely rudimentary in the early decades, the system allowed poorer men and women to meet with and sway the wealthier and more powerful leaders within the city. They sought legal representation, support and divine favour, and in exchange offered votes in the Legium, rights to alinatal or tribal land and, at need, labour and force.

As the city frayed in the soldier-strife of its 83rd year, many of these connections were stressed, turned, and reshaped. Though the Maphron rushed to finish the houses promised to the soldiers, and many made loud demonstrations of their progress in doing so, the soldiers grew increasingly bitter and tired. Even when they were forcibly housed in the huts of some outlying peasants, their swords remained threateningly sharp. The pressure placed on the Maphron would lead to louder cries of censure in the Legium, and grumbling in the streets and farmsteads. The domination of the Iron Faction, around Clusien, was shaken, as younger men rose to challenge the order that had settled after the Fifth Hillman war.

by **The GAmeTopians** » Thu Feb 18, 2021 10:14 am

The Republic of the Great River

Later in the day, cometh lore. For now, action.

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Thu Feb 18, 2021 1:46 pm

The Land of Penithel

No lore today I'm afraid...

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Fri Feb 19, 2021 12:18 pm

Pillar of Varra
Varra, Urban District

no ic

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Fri Feb 19, 2021 2:47 pm

Year 234 of the Reckoning
Turn 18

Warclyfe: The Dawn Singer responds in the negative to the words of Gu - his people crave homes of their own, and he is not content, nor are his subjects, to trust the wellbeing of sons and daughters to the largesse of the Warclyfe, for though they have been forgive for their trespasses, ambivalence is one thing, trust, another.

Eleskar: East of Eleskar the woodlands stretch seemingly endless - but it is not so. To the direction of the setting sun, the east, a great body of water lays, tossed by storms when the explorers first look upon it. To the very horizon it goes unbroken, so much greater than the River as a grain of sand is set against the city of the wise. These lands are heavily forested, and familiar elk, good to hunt with thick hides and strong antlers, roam beneath the forest giants. Gleaming strips of orange ore touch this land, perhaps the very stones which the barbarians exploited - but dangerous things stalk here, doubtless, and the nights around the campfire are filled with dread. Some men report seeing immense shapes as large as three men lumbering here and there in the thickets, and eyes gleam with malevolent intent at the men, though they are always gone come daybreak...

Secrets are now revealed. After many long years of work, and a thousand failed recipes, the glue-and-pulp concoction the scholars have prepared dries and holds a shape, not to mention markings placed upon it. There is wisdom in this creation, and the Eleskar will be better for this method of sharing information and training the masses.

Kharbarinth: In the distant south the explorers from Kharbarinth come upon the shores of a vast sea. Sulfur can be found next to pools here, and strange trees that glisten with an unearthly light when the sun descends grow upon white hills which overlook the deeps. Thick bands of silvery metal, flecked with blue, are also found in the deep sea-delved caves. To both east and west the line of flat grasslands faced with cliffs march in unceasing ranks.

East of east of northeast, near at hand to Stalheim, more men spy out the land. Here the sea stands near at hand, black beaches betraying a curious provenance. Plains stretch east and west, but this is a bow of the land, and a great bay. The familiar herb of the Healer's Hand grows wild here, the blue and deep green leaves a welcome touch of home, and the ground is pockmarked with great bowls which conceal buried nodules of glistening, like that known in fair Stalheim. Boars also make their home here, large and fat and good to eat, if dangerous to hunt.

Sorrowfree: Men are complex beasts, the greatest of the creations of the Mother Moon. To rule them well is the charge of all those who would exercise influence over another, and their care and keeping is not something to be despised. By formalizing the lessons of the past, and the rule of lands beneath the eye of the Mother, all may prosper through proper governance. The attempt to transplant the cocoon-trees from the chill mountain heights meets with failure - once removed from their native soil, the luster abandons their branches, and even the hardiest-seeming saplings perish once return to the dry heat of Sorrowfree.

Machaka: In numbers and the relationship between them men find meaning in the practicalities of construction and ensuring all aligns as it should. This new discovery prompts thoughts of great artifices which the people of the Machaka might raise, to the benefit of all in this mathematics, as it is named.

Velathri: The water buffalo are not tame beasts - but they are placid, after their fashion, and not overly despising of men. With careful encouragement, and inducements of food, many have come to accept the Velathrii as equals, and consent to be fenced in paddocks where their milk and meat are much more simple to obtain, no longer simple wild beasts.

Corvus: To the south and west, then west and west again, the men of Corvus explore, out into the deep on small rafts. The sea is wracked by violent storms, but luckily all men survive. There are abundant fish here, and strange moving islands which submerge and emerge at intervals close to the men, giving off great spouts of water which are a wonder to behold. There is no sign of land though, save to the south, and the east from whence they came.

West of north of north of north the other sons of the city range, deep into the forest which their ancestors knew of. To their east rise the mountains of the Spine of the World, separating this forest from the lands of the Khortuun, and to both north and west deep forests continue. Forest boars, good to eat, roam here, and malachite is in abundance, though lamentably far from the city. There is little else here of note, save perhaps thick mats of moss which flourish in the damp underbrush and amidst the many streams of the region.

by **Ralnis** » Fri Feb 19, 2021 3:54 pm

Warcyfle,
Island of Lo

Grum once again was downtrodden. Knowing nothing at all was going for his people and his personal beliefs had been shattered. He sat on his throne and heard that there was some good news. The Creche was ready and people were preparing more kids and children to be made adults than ever before. It was the pain of trying to get anything done with nothing to show for it. So he ordered his men to prepare laying down the foundations for the docks. Artisans went to work with making industrial gains while wealth came from the coffers to provide the needs. Also he started to laydown the foundation for more huts and to provide labor for the next generation.

In secret he started to send emissaries to the Ithoi and offering them a deal. To see if they were willing to help the Warcyfle in deepinging their relations or, in some true secrets, offer vassalization or some deal if they were willing to help them grow strong. Grum didn't honestly care and his people needed help. If it meant becoming servants to this One God for a lifetime or two while plans go into motion, then so be it.

by **Pragia** » Fri Feb 19, 2021 5:13 pm

It would be 6 years since the last time the topic of the peaceful outsiders came to the ear of the now-aging Halan Eleskar. The aging man being weighed down during his two decades of rule without a single great discovery he can claim as his own triumph, and the bodies of hundreds at the feet of his decisions. Jorin Kelska, first of the council, now ancient beyond even their leader, would convey to him the news "The Minda're have vacated, magister, our magi have taught them the secrets of our new defenses."

The magister would stroke his spindly greying beard, well kempt but not magnificent like some of his people "What do you mean? Who are the Minda're? We do not give outsiders the secrets we have pried from the gods!" he would say, seeming quite distraught.

"The Minda're, those peoples that the Kelskar noted approaching the Obobakar almost a decade ago, the ones we have never spoken to? They showed up here shortly after, we opened our gates and showed them the Grand Scriptorum of El'es." Jorin would explain casually to his leader.

"They entered the Grand Scriptorum? Only those who can invoke the power of El'es may enter!" Halan would decry, echoing the dictates set forth by his mother and the founder of their civilization.

"Yes, we appear to have overlooked that, they were very persistent." Jorin would say, sounding more uncertain himself now as he mulls over the situation "Really, it makes more sense for our own workers to know our secrets before outsiders... But at least now they have made a wall to match ours!"

Halan would blink for a moment "They have taken our secrets and replicated them in this period of time? How do we know this, did the Kelskar defy the council and move south?" he would ask, still trying to understand

Jorin would shake his head "I would not order my people to go against the will of the Magister, we learned of their feats because our mechants have been there."

"We have merchants? They would go into the unknown South before the Kelskar?" Halan would question, being quite surprised at this barrage of revelations.

"Well no, I don't suppose we do, not that we have currency or tradable goods, or a particular desire to leave our walled home..." Jorin would add "But I was planning on the Kelskar to go there once we have learned of the lands of the East." he would explain, taking a seat on the stone block across from the Magister

"What is currency- no matter, So then how did we learn of this?" Halan would ask, realizing that there was not an answer "Well, do be sure this does not happen again, the magi do not deal with foreigners, such an endeavor would only be the realm of your scouts. And please, recall any so-called merchants... We have many dead and could use more people."

Jorin nods "As you wish, Magister, but I must suggest that we begin to reach out to our neighbors, losing half of our men so callously as we did was a blow to us."

"I am well aware Jorin, you need not remind me." Halan would sit for a while, looking as the simple stone dwellings would be built from the shadows of their high walls, even as the walls would begin to extend all the way toward the river where new construction and preparation was being conducted by eager magi who had little reason to engage with outsiders... or so he had assumed.

There have not been arranged marriages to outsiders, as they would not have close ties to any outsiders to begin with. There have not been any significant friendships formed beyond the occaisional Kelskar meeting an outsider. There are not petty merchants among the Eleskar, seeing as their culture is both stratified and insular without a strong economic instinct, and the exceedingly small number of Eleskar who regularly leave the city certainly do not care for such relationships. Outsiders who seek refuge with the Eleskar are not admitted beyond brief communiques, and would certainly not be introduced to their customs, let alone the affairs of the magi. Do not assume that there are regular ongoing relations unless they have been made explicit, and do not assume contact initiated by the Eleskar to result in a sharing of knowledge or ideas.

It was a triumph of the magi to finally complete their task which Halan had set upon them since the days the first magi set out into the forests to fell trees for their experiments. Now they had the process down to a science, where old attempts made rags which were little useful to the Eleskar, the new methods developed involved particular melted sinews and slow burnings to create material that was, in essence, a lattice of fibers. The first papers were pieced together for the magister to read aloud his compiled dictates of Agor'a. The Magi would cheer as he begins to set out his dream for the developments of his people. The Eleskar had mastered their potential, their ability to retain knowledge something unique to humanity, and a uniqueness which would be upheld and cherished among his people.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sat Feb 20, 2021 11:18 am

Deepkin

Sea-Road, Forgefend
Eighth of Long Night, Year Twohundred Thirtysix of the Reckoning

It was a reduced army which returned home from the battle in the east, but one full of satisfaction of a job well done. They were singing as they marched along the coast towards their city, songs of the Elder Days, of the Father's shining spear and the branching leaves of the Mother. The barbarians had fought hard, but bronze and discipline and the formations of civilization had eventually undone the brigands. There were some amongst the soldiers out of the north who worried that this was only a setback for the outlanders - such men did not come out of the ground, or the trees, but from lands beyond the ken of the Deepkin. Where some of the brutes had come, others would no doubt follow.

That was a concern for another year though, not that it did not weight on the mind of the Warden who had been assigned to oversee Forgefend by the fathers in Kharbarinth. Soon his fortified manor would be finished, and the city guard raised, to shield those who had come to this uncivilized land against the blackness beyond. There would be more men to spit themselves upon the blades of the warbands in the future, no doubt.

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Sun Feb 21, 2021 5:20 am

The Land of Penithel

As the years turned the forges of Avnelin bloomed with soot and smoke as workers rushed to and fro, the Sundrops from the Old Homeland were shaped and made into suits of gleaming armors as the copper was fastened to leather and given to the warriors to wear. At the same time the explorers of Penithel were readying themselves for a march westward across the river and beyond the borders of their homeland, having served a little more than glorified miners for years on end, they were glad for the change in mission and went about their preparations with proud smiles and puffed out chests. The peasants were hard at work, their labors serving to tame more of the lands around the city and a strip of territory along the bank of the river was soon set in order. With the knowledge that the Scholars were studying from their Riverman allies, they would soon be able to grow much more food than the simple gardens allowed, perhaps they would even learn the secrets of watering these crops. At the same time, the warriors of the Pennethelli were sweating away under the gentle sun, training for battle sure to come, the only questions was against whom...

by **The Knights of Azorea** » Sun Feb 21, 2021 12:19 pm

Velathri

--The augurs watch the skies above the city of eagles.--

by **Nuxipal** » Sun Feb 21, 2021 1:37 pm

City of Daru
Year of the Ancestor 136

These were strange years for the Nirari. With Envoys sent north and the soldiery on patrol in the mountains, the city had an odd sense of serenity to it. For the first time in a long time, the city felt as if it was coming to a rest. The early growing pains of the city were on hold as a sense of normalcy came over the people. With visitors expected to be coming from the west sometime soon bearing the benefits of trade with them, First of the Nirari, Teroh, was able to begin preparing soldiers to have higher levels of combat ability. Daily training exercises began with the intention of creating a more elite core of soldiers for the city of Daru.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Sun Feb 21, 2021 2:04 pm

by **The GAmeTopians** » Sun Feb 21, 2021 4:45 pm

The Republic of the Great River

Rivermouth
Co-write with Hungary and Nuxipal
Strange days came in the plains surrounding the Great River. Strange enough already were the creations of its kin - after years of construction finally stood a massive stone barrier, surrounding their most complex constructions with one that dwarfed them all. Watchtowers crafted of both timber and stone stood high above even the rest of the wall, and hundreds of men looked out over its edge, into the rolling fields that had been placed under the Republic’s mighty hand. But the Republic, praise the River’s grace, had not been attacked in many years, and normally a presence this strong would not have been required. No… today, the Council had guests.

From the southern plains, the delegation from Daru arrived headed by the Ancestor’s own High Priestess, Serra. She brought with her only a handful of attendants for the discussions to take place. First Teroh was not among them, seemingly having crossed the Pardis Mountain southwards. The stone construction reminded Serra of the mountains themselves, for the Nirari did not possess the skilled labor to construct such things. Her own small shrine within the city was one of its most advanced structures, and even that was beginning to be far too small to house the Ancestor’s followers and dedications. She wondered who the Penithel would send as their delegate. The Ancestor’s memories have told the people of Daru that those who dwelled along the river were once friends of the Nirari, sharing encampment and knowledge alike. However, there were crimes committed which simply could not be ignored by the faithful.

As the small party of foreigners approached the city walls, the massive gates embedded into their surface began to creak open, rumbling against the rough surface of the ground. The space beyond them revealed a regiment of disciplined soldiers, clad in shining armor, glistening with an orange glow not unlike the sun’s morning shine. They parted like a river to a rock for the dignitaries - a friendly call came forth as their movement stilled.
“Hail, friends! Welcome to our fair city.”
A shining white mane of hair drew the eyes of passersby almost as much as their soldier escort. A mature woman in relatively plain leathers stood in between the wide open gates, nevertheless possessing the dignity and poise of a ruler of thousands. She spread her hands wide, and bowed gracefully to her new guests.

Serra and her delegation appeared glad to have been directly received by a member of the city. Wearing the white and gold unicorn-hair clothing of a priest of the Ancestor, she simply smiled and said, “Thank you for your hospitality. With the Ancestor’s wisdom, we will be able to find a compromise which will benefit all of the people who live on the Plains.”

With a smile and a brief reply from the Archon, the delegates of Daru were welcomed inside the walls, headed off to the cottage that would be their reception and lodgings for the time being. A small detachment of soldiers peeled off to escort them, while the rest turned their eyes to the east - one more set of visitors would soon arrive.

From the East, another party approached, painted bright in lively blues and deep crimson they walked with faces dour, the long and winding paths had been trod by their sandalled feet. At the head of the column was a small man, elder in years with a long beard white as snow, clad in a white loincloth and painted blue, next to him was a woman. Her black hair shaped into a menacing coxcomb with the sides shaved. In contrast to the old man, her body was painted with intricate red patterns. Behind them walked an escort of warriors armed with bows and stone axe-hammers. The mighty walls of Rivermouth were a… sight to behold that was for sure. Had we had a wall like that, none of that would have ever happened, the old man thought, muttering under his breath as he supported himself on his walking stick as the small group moved forward. As they approached, the old man raised his hand in view of the guards. “Hail, I am Nymrith, Priest of Blue and King’s Hand of Penithel, my companion is Elenil, Priestess of Red. We come to speak with the voice of the Blue King.”

The mutter of distant shouts atop the wall was soon interrupted by the boom of the gate’s outward movement, again giving way to the approach of a welcoming party. This time, a young man with a flash of auburn hair led a small squadron of soldiers, the blade strapped to his hip one sign of many that he was a trained warrior, despite his equally regal demeanor. The traditional bow of the River’s Kin welcomed their new guests.
“Hail, Lord Nymrith, Lady Elenil. I am Archon Liam Shadespear - these are my men. We have been tasked with escorting you to your lodgings for the duration of our negotiations, and of course to welcome you to our fine city. If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to speak with either myself or my men.”
Returning upright with a smooth pivot, the youth spun on his heel and led the way back into the city, his men parting to form an honor guard for the new arrivals.

The old man looked at the youth with… disinterest almost, his blue eyes were watery and tired, yet they betrayed much happening behind them. Nymrith simply nodded politely with a curt nod after the Riverman finished speaking. “Thank you for the warm welcome to Rivermouth, Archon Shadespear, it’s been at least fifteen years since I was last here. I’d give the Sign but I’m not the lively one I used to be, I need my cane in hand.”

At that point the red-painted woman stepped forward. “Archon, we are glad to be in the Riverlands.” She crossed her hands and placed the palms on her chest before raising one hand to the Archon, palm open. The Sign of peace and greeting among the Pennethelli. “Thank you for the help, we have come a long way and some rest would be appreciated as sure as the Blue-and-Black watch us over and under.” The Pennethelli envoys along with their guards and servants made their way to their cottage and settled down to rest before the meeting.

It was dusk by the time the envoys of both foreign cities had become fully settled in, each group bedded and fed properly by their attendants - stocks of the finest harvest had been set aside for this meeting, and they would not be put to waste. As the sun began to dip below the plains, messengers were sent out, and the diplomats were gathered in the home of Lachlan Lifesong, the current First Speaker of the Archon Council. The warm fireplace belied the frigid, stone-cold looks of the representatives, but the First Speaker himself nevertheless welcomed every comer with a calm smile. Once they were all seated comfortably at the meeting table, and guards positioned to everyone’s liking, he spoke.
“Greetings, priests of the Ancestor, and of the Blue King. You are welcome in our fair Republic. We are confident that you will abide by our laws and customs as best as you are able during your time here, and that no blood will be shed in the days to come.” He held the gazes of each representative for but a moment, before returning to his speech.
“Now. Our first order of business is to discuss the attack on the Penithelli city, some years ago. Republican forces were not present for the altercation, so as such we will be maintaining a neutral stance for the moment. I invite either delegation to begin with opening statements.”

Stepping forward, Serra begins with her greeting, “Hello representatives of Avnelin, I am the HIgh Priestess of the Ancestor. I will be representing the interests of Daru and the Nirari people beyond her borders as well. I would like to thank you for making an attempt at a peaceful solution and hope that all parties can act in good faith to one another. Daru is primarily interested in trade, though we have been the victims of a heinous attack and the people feel quite justified in their actions to this date.”
She was of course referring to the raid that First Teroh had conducted several years ago that has seemingly failed as her scouts and envoys have indeed identified the continued proliferation of Unicorns outside of the care of the Ancestor’s chosen.

Lachlan cleared his throat, cutting in quickly.
“Before I ask the Pennethelli delegates to provide their opening statement, I would ask that you clarify regarding this ‘heinous attack’ of which you speak, to provide context.”

Nodding slowly, Serra says, “In the time before our city’s foundations were even settled, the Nirari regarded the Pennetheli to be friends and allies. Enough so that they didn’t consider them to be a potential threat to their own security. While fending off barbarians south of the mountains, the Nirari were attacked. The Unicorn Paddocks were destroyed, and the herds of the Ancestor’s Sacred beast were scattered. It took time to recover many of the herds and when the city of Daru began seeking its old friends, they found the Sacred Animal penned up by the Pennenthelli of Avnelin. The theft of Her sacred animal was a crime which needs to be corrected.” She looks over to the other delegation, almost as if she was expecting some kind of rebuttal.

Ah yes, raiding, almost a custom, the old man thought to himself. It ebbs, it flows. The men of Penithel seeking their own moment of strength in relation to Daru’s moment of weakness, made a move and acted upon it. Recently, the Niari had come to the same conclusions. The circle of raiding and beast-rustling had seemingly started. “But you did not take vengeance, did you?” Nymrith said firmly. “We took none of your kin in binding, and we slew only a few who resisted the rustlers. You on the other hand killed many of our people and took near as many away in binding. You felt righteous in doing that to us after we took a herd of Horned Ones. Trade is all well and good, and the merchants of Penithel are always looking for a new market to hawk their wares…” He sighed.

“But… you felt it was right to do what you did for a herd of Horned Ones, we feel certain things are appropriate for the taking of our loved ones… the Red-and-Black and the Blue would see it proper.” The Red Priestess continued, a slight sinister tone in her voice contrasting to the matter-of-factness in Nymrith’s speech.

The delegates from Avnelin had not only confessed to stealing the sacred beasts, but seemed to be attempting to shift the blame onto the Nirari for following the Ancestor’s guidance. The High Priestess responded, “What the First did was strike down the paddocks and fight into the city of a people who broke the trust of their friends, desecrated the sacred animals of their Goddess, and proceeded to act as if their actions were right and proper. Those who have been returned to Daru have found peace in the light of the Ancestor and have helped to replace those who fell trying to right a deed which should never have taken place. I was sent instead of Teroh specifically so that we could find a middle ground that both of our cities can work from. Your city continues to hold the Ancestor’s sacred animal in bondage and act as if you are entitled to the fruits of the Ancestor’s labor. If you are unable to see the wrongs that have been committed, then I am unsure if our cities can find a middle ground.”
She glances over to the host delegation, she had been under the impression that the Pennenthelli were willing
to negotiate and not act hostile to her words.

Lachlan rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples, trying to hide his grimace behind his arms.
“Hearing acknowledgement of wrongdoing from both parties, I would propose that we cease the assignment of blame. Old wrongs or new, Daru has wronged Avnelin, and vice versa. Let us instead focus on recompense and the rebuilding of trust between two civilized peoples who are better than this centuries-old feud.” The force of his words grew stronger with each phrase, not hostile but instead almost daring either delegation to challenge the neutral stance.

“We can begin the rebuilding of trust, by finding a way to end the ongoing crisis of the Ancestor’s Sacred Beast being held by those who have not been granted her diving blessing.” Serra was first and foremost a priestess of the Ancestor, and while spreading the faith wasn’t something that was associated with how they worked in the past, creating a common faith between all people living on the plains would help create more common ground.
“If you wish to maintain herds of Unicorns, there will need to be oversight by priests of the Ancestor. Proper rituals in handling them and how to treat them when they are living on the lands provided. I am sure that I can get the First and the soldiers of Daru to permit others of our shared faith to maintain herds on the northside of the plain, just as we do on the southern side of it.”
She isn’t convinced that the delegates from Avnelin would be keen on incorporating the Ancestor’s worship into their everyday life, but when an animal is gifted to a people by divine intervention, then it becomes a sacred duty for that people to ensure the animal is treated with the proper care.

One of the Republican figures who had, until recently, stood off to the side now spoke up - his eyes glistened with excitement as he heard the words of the priestess.
“Apologies for the interruption, sirs and madams - I am Archon Markus Riverforge, Archon of the Heart and overseer of the Republic’s newest herd of unicorns, which were transported with great care from Avnelin four turnings of the season or so ago. We were not aware of the conflicted origin they possessed, but we would be honored to learn more of their care and cultural connection from your people, and we would be more than happy to facilitate the same for our friends in Avnelin.”
Murmurs of agreement travelled between the Archons. More than a few of them were visibly eager, the scholarly minds among them naturally drawn to this unfamiliar culture and its concepts. Lachlan nodded to himself, and made eye contact with the representative from Daru, an unspoken query.

Serra nods and says, “I’ll be sure to send some of my priests here to Rivermouth to teach your people of the Ancestor and how to care for her sacred animals.” She then turned to the delegates from Avnelin and said, “What about you? Would you permit my priests to teach your people of the Ancestor?”

Nymrith grumbled, then coughed. Another set of strange priests in his land? He had seen the merchants returning with their trade caravans from the Hesukar bearing the faith of Elenil and now many of his people followed these Black Kings. The last thing Penithel needed was more gods, peace however, peace could be… acceptable. On certain terms.

"Your Godsfolk can come and oversee the handling of the Horned Ones to make sure we care for them in an… acceptable manner. But only if you release our people from bondage." The old Blue Priest said, eyes fixed on the Niari woman, peering out from under a pair of bushy eyebrows.

"Indeed, if we can have a guarantee that our people are released back to us unharmed, the Blue and the Black-and-Red shall consider further terms in exchange." Elenil said, leaning back in her chair.

Serra did not trust the Pennenthelli Priest. His tone seemed to indicate that he felt that he was in a position to make demands when it was the actions of his city’s people that had instigated the current situation they found themselves in. However, Serra replied in a manner which was both truthful and disappointing to the Blue Priest. “The captives taken during the raid on Avnelin cannot be returned simply for a promise from a people who are known to go back on their good faith. Not only would this go against the tenets of the Ancestor, but the soldiers who took the captives, the families whose sons and daughters will never return, and the position of the First would never permit the slaves to be released for such a low price.”

She sighed and offered an alternative, “If you can find a means to replace them, by collecting volunteers or by capturing a new batch of workers, I am sure that I could sell that to First Teroh and the people who have suffered from this conflict. Might I suggest we find a suitable target for your raids and take those people captive?”

Knowing of the Heuskar mostly by second-hand stories and minimal contact, the Nirari avoided the Northern Plains where the men who worshipped the deities known as the Black Kings dwelled with their filth and squalor. If asked, she would suggest the Northerners strike a blow there.

That much, though, would be unnecessary, as the First Speaker of the Republic had much the same thought.
“That brings me much sooner than I expected to the second order of business that I had planned for today: the matter of the barbarians that blight our lands, North and South alike. While it will take time for your people to regain trust in one another, the bonds forged in battle are not to be underestimated - blades for the same cause are stronger than stone. This endeavor would also allow the Pennethelli to raise the capital necessary to regain their people.”
He looked upon the representatives of the other cities, unsure of their thoughts, but not letting that show on his face.

The old priest sighed with a low grumble in the back of his throat. “The return of our kin is such an important condition for Penithel. You say you may convince those who suffered loss to accept it should we hunt slaves on your account, but people have suffered on both sides, and it may be… challenging for us to convince those who long for the return of their loved ones that they must now go out and risk their lives to hunt slaves for the very people who took them away, I am sure you see the conundrum.” He said simply. “Should they be returned however, perhaps in return for a payment of gold then we can most certainly send our warriors out and bring new captures your way and lend our warriors to secure the borders of our three cities, be it from threats in the north or south.”

Serra didn’t look amused with what she was hearing from the delegation from Avnelin. Putting a prerequisite on their cooperation made it significantly more difficult to work with them. She then said, “And I thought we were all here to negotiate in good faith. If we are to make ridiculous demands, then I will point out the one that will solve all the problems. Release your Unicorn Herds and never hold them in bondage again. Then we would be willing to negotiate about the return of the slaves taken from your settlement.” She knew that there were many among the soldiers that wished to continue raids against those who had harmed their predecessors. They would not be upset if Serra’s delegation came back empty-handed. Though, she felt that she could at least make some gains, even if it wasn’t with the Kingdom of Penithel itself.

Nymrith once more let out a low grumble from somewhere in the back of the throat. They were seemingly unwilling to concede the point. “Very well.” Red Priestess Elenil said with a shrug of the shoulders. “Let us go home, Lord Nymrith, I believe we are done.” She began rising from her chair.

The old man grumbled again and threw the red-painted woman a hard look. “Sit back down Elenil, we are not finished.” The woman frowned but did as the old Blue Priest said. “Now, you mentioned enemies in the south, tell me about them, what kind of folk are they, the Hesukar we know well, but what of your southerners.” Nymrith said, in attempt to move the conversation somewhere else before it turns into a shouting match spinning out of control.

Seeing that one of the delegates from Penithel seemed to be put off, Serra was glad for the deflection by the older priest. Serra didn’t have much to work on in dealing with the southern barbarians, for they were primarily foes of the southern allies of the Nirari. “They call themselves the Yue. They have attacked our allies, the Huanca and Huang people south of the mountains. Most recently destroying an entire settlement of the Huang. The Ancestor’s teachings tell us we fought and bested them in years past, taking a number of their people captive. Many of their descendants still work in Daru today. Our coordination with the Huang in the defense of the jungles south of the Pardis Mountains is only just getting underway. We hope to be able to locate the new home of the Yue soon so that we might put an end to their threat to the south, just as we wish to put an end to the threat of the Heuskar to the north.”

While a central location gave Daru plenty of advantages, it also put them in a position where any barbarian threat was too close for the comforts of its people. Serra continued, “We do not seek to drag your people south of the mountains, for that is not your fight. The future of the Plains depends on the Heuskar being defeated, not the Yue.”

“Well, well.” Elenil said almost languidly. “How very considerate of you. While we who lead the faithful in the worship of the Black-and-Red would like nothing more than to give bloody foes in sacrifice to Them.” The Priestess said. “The Hesukar are strong in battle, and they know the secrets of the Black and Red more intimately than any, they have greater magics than we comprehend, battling them is a challenge, but if we were to join forces it might be done.”

She leaned forward. “If we were to provide a hundred Hesukar captives, do we have a guarantee that our people go free? And what about any other plunder? How is it to be divided?”

Nodding to the northern priest, Serra replied, “If you bring a hundred captives of any sort to Daru, I will guarantee the safe transfer of the captives taken during the attack on Avnelin to whomever delivers the new captives. However, until such a time they will continue to work the lands in and around Daru as they have come to know the Ancestor and the blessings she has gifted us with.”
Believing that this could be sufficient to secure the peace between Daru and Avnelin for now, she looks to the host and says, “I will of course have priests dispatched to Rivermouth as your people were unaware of how the unicorns came into the possession of Penithel. I hope that in the near future, we are able to work more closely together. I know that securing trade across the plains is something that First Teroh would be forced to accept as the artisans of Daru desire new markets for their goods, and the people seek new goods to purchase.”

Nymrith nodded slowly, exhaling with a deep sigh followed by a cough, one of Pennethelli attendants handed a clay mug with water to the old Priest, who drank deep before raising his voice. “I shall bring the terms to His Grace and let us hope this puts an… amiable conclusion to things going forward.”

Lachlan allowed a slight relieved smile to cross his face.
“I’m pleased to hear that we are in agreement. Archons of the relevant specialties will pay visits to your respective cottages over the next few hours to make the necessary arrangements, and you are of course welcome to remain in those lodgings until you are ready to make the journey home.”
With that, he stood - the discussions were complete, for now. Gradually, the room cleared of Republic representatives, leaving only the security forces to guide the delegations back to their rooms.

Seeing that her time here had been well spent, Serra nodded to Lachlan to get his attention as she walked over to him. She then said, “I appreciate your efforts here. I look forward to our cities working together in the future. We will look at establishing a regular trade route up this way as soon as we can.” With that Serra exited the meeting room to return to the cottage the Nirari delegation had been assigned to for their stay.

As the Penithelli, too, departed for the evening, peace at last came to the home of the Republic’s leader. And, perhaps, a greater air of prosperity would hang over the plains for decades to come.

Such is life in the River’s Jewel. Such is life in this strange world.

by **Novas Arcanum** » Mon Feb 22, 2021 5:15 am

Turn 18!

Bronze Age Shao Dynasty Theme

The Shao people were strong, proud, and united. It would take more then greed and bronze to break the Middle Kingdom.

by **Olthenia** » Mon Feb 22, 2021 8:58 am

The Labour-Yards, Sorrowfree
Twenty-First Day of the Arc of Murak’s Bane, the 236th Year of the Star-Count

“And the new potter’s workshop will come out… here.” Aboras mo Keyn tap-tapped the sand-drawn figure in front of him – his stick a long, dark shadow in the sand. Around him, his pursers and work-men watched and listened – faces impassive. It was morning in Sorrowfree, and it was time to sort out the day’s work. That which needed doing from that which could wait. That which was planned from that which wasn’t.

Aboras mo Keyn, craftsman and builder – sparse of hair and keen of eye – was one such planner. Had this been another time and another place, men and women might have known him as an architect. But here, amongst the canyon-dwellers, that word was not known to the wise mothers.

Builder, then. Master Builder. That was the lot of Aboras mo Keyn.

“And what will feed it?” drawled Negaya, arms folded tight across her chest. The sun had begun to peek across the canyon’s walls a while ago, but the chill of the morning lingered still. In another while, the heat of the day would make the land scorching hot. But for now – men and women were cold. Negaya too.

“Clay, I expect?” Aboras responded – a bushy eyebrow quirked at the young purser’s query. “That is what potters favor, I hear.” A muted chuckle rose from those assembled, but mo Keyn’s eyes did not leave his young apprentice’s. “Or was that not what you meant, Negaya?”

“I meant, Master Keyn,” Negaya shot back – in a tone that said ‘Master’ was not what she’d meant at all – “-how will we feed it? The clay-carvers down in Mobassa’s Pit are already working themselves into a lather.”

“A new pit’ll be carved, I expect,” responded Aboras. “Though that’ll wait ‘til next year.”

“But what’ll our new kiln eat in the mean time?” demanded Negaya. Had her tone come from anyone else, Aboras mo Keyn would’ve stopped her – be it with a rod or a stern tone. But though the people who dwelled under the gaze of the Mother-Moon counted themselves as free and equal, there were differences amongst them still. Differences in name and breeding. Some, would you believe it, had names that let them speak louder than others. Names like Negaya mo Nakloz.

“I’m certain the mothers have a plan for it,” Aboras remarked. Negaya looked as though she had more to say, but the master Builder turned from her – and tap-tapped his stick in the dirt.

“Come on, you lot! We have a kiln to raise.”

And so it was.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Mon Feb 22, 2021 3:00 pm

Year 236 of the Reckoning
Turn 19

Warclyfe: The Ithoi are warriors, and would accept the people of Warclyfe as battle-thralls; to fight before them, and in their vanguard, and thence become mighty in their shadow. They will offer arms and armor in exchange for the cream of Warclyfe's fighters to join them in battle. The scholars have also been hard at work, and devised both measurements and clever crafts of stone and timber which might allow men to raise buildings many times the size of the simple dwellings of Gu's rule so far. This construction will be of great value, no doubt.

Eleskar: Further investigation of the creatures that walk in the east has found they are immense shaggy creatures, with long teeth and thick pelts of brown fur, each formidable foes, but uninterested in men save when they are very hungry. They mainly retreat at the approach of men, and are notable for grazing on both berries and hunting prey in the eastern forests. They would be very dangerous if provoked to wrath though, for each seems to have enough strength in one mighty paw to snap a man's neck with ease.

Kharbarinth: The explorers of the Deepkin have been delayed this year - a great star has fallen to the earth east of the City of Bells, scaring man and child alike and demanding a response from Government Hill. After inspection by the warriors, and no signs of danger in the great crater, this gleaming yellow metal which wells with an inward light has been collected by the intrepid wanderers. +2 Skystone

Men at labor in Kharbarinth have opened up a new vein of rich copper, and reinforced it, before proudly displaying it to the artisans on Government Hill. This new pit mine will be a good to the community, though there are some who begrudge the wealth the masters will reap from it. +Pit Mine, -20 Stability. Foreign refugees have also come to Stalheim, a hundred Freemen seeking homes. Their hair is long and dark, matted in clever braids, and their skin fair unlike that of the sons of the Father - but they seem pleasant enough, and though some suspect them of evil, they are swift enough to integrate into the society of the City of Iron. -40 Stability

Avnelin: Across the depths of the sea there may be riches untold - at long last the scholars of the Penithelli have devised a craft, a small ship, capable of traveling over the broken waters through wind and storm. With knowledge of this design, the reach of the people of Avnelin will soon be much expanded, shipbuilding an art they comprehend. There is dark news though - the explorers dispatched west have failed to return...

Velathrii: To the south the river runs, into great steaming forests. These lands have impressive bands of marble in their hills, much like Velathri herself, and familiar water buffalo wallow in the pools and rivulets, good prey or better livestock. There are also bands of pale quartz to be found in the still shallows here, pretty to gaze upon but of little value really. To the west grassy highlands rise, while to both the east (where the river runs) and the south similar tropical woodlands span to the horizon.

This is not all though! Men report raiders coming out of the west, and the peasants sent to labor in the hills have been borne off by fell brigands, cast into bonds and vanished before reports reached the defenders of the city. It is now time for the chosen of the Archons to take up their weapons, and defend anew their homeland!

Sorrowfree: The flax flowers take to the soil with no apparent signs of distress, but as the months draw on it soon becomes clear that they are not exactly flourishing - coming as they do from the high mountains, where both rain and cold are more plentiful than the Vale of Ustar. Measures will have to be taken, though who knows what might be successful in restoring this beautiful though fragile plant?

Skras Tor: The powerful raiders of the northlands have been hard at work, and mastered a method of reinforcing their durable walls with aggregates of stone, mud, and sand - this mortar will hold great blocks in place even under the fiercest of blows, and the citadel of the Black Kings shall grow stronger still.

by **Pragia** » Mon Feb 22, 2021 9:19 pm

Halan would walk down the main hallway in the Grand Scriptorum. His wing was finishing its renovations, the mass production of paper from felled trees replacing unfired clay tablets with long discussions on the attempts made to create it. He was conflicted as he walked the halls of his dominion, his magi in their cliques as they invoke the power of the Violet Queen. The work of educating the next generation was near complete, the first commonly consumed books being made which detail Eleskar mythology. This would be taught by the Council Mage Lohana Solha, who would be dictating to the early adolescents the hierarchy of the divines. Halan would sit on a stone block in the back of the vestibule where this was occurring, a large sinewy sheet on the wall detailing their genealogy.

Primeval forces of the elements would be recognized as Stone, Air, Water, Fire, Light, Darkness, and Wood, all of these predate the divines, but are not greater than them. The Light and Darkness would conspire the creation of the Violet Queen El'es and her husband Agor'a, the divine of reason. These two beings were above the elements, even the ones that had shaped them. From their union the first of men would come about, with the Eleskar above all as their favored, as only the Eleskar so naturally took to their mother's magics and their father's discipline.

The other divines were of Elemental natures such as Arkor, god of the river which flows from the headlands just north, was but an aspect of the wider Talkor, god of water. M'rala, goddess of the earth beneath their feet and Ral'es, god of fire, would similarly be gods of their respective elements with their own hierarchies beneath them. Some heresies which were discounted included El'es and Agor'a as subjects of light and dark, who had their own divines, but it is usually perscribed that El'es and Agor'a are above the hierarchies. These beings were independent from men, who would be largely uncaring to their existence, with flooding and wildfires being viewed as their habits and emotions.

The last category of divines were the so-termed "Aspects of Men" who were regarded as the weakest overall, but very important nonetheless. These gods were ones of various things: emotions such as love, anger, sadness, and pride, activities such as hunting, weaving, fishing, and farming, and ideas such as death, competition, and trade. These were the most common in average life, and from which many words were taken as to invoke the lesser divines in their every sentence, as language itself was sacred to the Eleskar. Such as it was that by granting a word associated with a name, one was granting that individual immortality. Jorin Kelska, who was not long for this world, would live on in the Kelskar forever as the very concept of discovery of the world around them. Such would never happen for Halan or anyone of his line, as all of their glories will be tallied under the Eleskar, to honor both the Violet Queen and their people as a whole with their deeds.

by **Novas Arcanum** » Tue Feb 23, 2021 4:04 pm

Turn 19/20

Rebuilding

A time of rebuilding. A time of becoming stronger.

by **Nuxipal** » Tue Feb 23, 2021 7:26 pm

City of Daru
Year of the Ancestor 138

Years passed, Serra returned to Daru, and the Priests of the Ancestor dispersed northwards to Avnelin and Rivermouth. In the city itself, Teroh and the soldiers were told that war with the northern cities was now very unlikely, however, there was still the Heuskar there and they would need to start preparing some kind of response to this northern danger. For now however, continued drilling and preparing were taking place within the ranks of the Daru Soldiers. Interactions in the north have brought back new ideas as well as promises of a new way to acquire food. To quickly attain what they are looking for, Serra, the Ancestor's High Priestess has directed the scholars of Daru to learn from the Riverlanders and let them learn from our own city.

by **Lazarian** » Tue Feb 23, 2021 8:29 pm

Corvus, Year 36 of Destiny’s Awakening

The men return.

It is clear from the moment that they are spotted that something terrible has happened. The procession bears no slaves, no sounds of jubilation and glee, no gleaming riches from their packs. Just downtrodden, exhausted, and weary men. Slightly more than half of the contingent that departed returns, with the vast majority of the Bloodred Pack slain. So many are dead. Both of the Pacate Captains, bloodthirsty Lanon Longfang and steady Jevon Dreamweaver, lie dead upon the field. Though the army slew as least as many as they lost, causing a crushing blow to Zhai Cheng's population...it was not enough to ensure victory.

It is a dreadful day. Widows weep, children sob, the priests tear their hair and gnash their teeth. The gods have not smiled on them this day.

The rest of the year is equally dreadful. Attendance at the year’s feasts and ceremonies reaches a record low. In fact, one of the four pillars at the Four-Pillar Shrine is defaced at the night of the summer solstice, the day before the Feast of the War-God. The Aspect of War, Vennon, has his symbolic pillar splattered with a mixture of red clay paint and goat droppings in the midst of the night. The vandalism is quickly removed, but many whisper of the event.

Their misery is further compounded by Craenon Sharpeye’s resignation. Survivor’s guilt seems to fall upon him like the weight of the world itself - the previously vivacious and hearty man seems to age twenty years in the span of two. He withdraws from the world, becoming a sullen man with sunken eyes and a pale face. Crennon the Builder, the First Tribelord, provides a steady hand...for a year, before passing away. Societal unrest bubbles underneath the surface, but the Lord’s Counsel of Seven manages to keep anarchy at bay. The interim leaders of the city are Lenan Songweaver of the Spirit-Guides, Kadima Keeneye of the few remaining warriors, Elan Defthand of the craftsmen and smiths, and Curon Annwyn of the herders and tanners.

by **Lazarian** » Tue Feb 23, 2021 8:48 pm

Corvus, Year 38 of Destiny’s Awakening

A year of repairing. A year of rebuilding. A year of renewal. The people demand the end of military rule, clamoring outside the Scriptorum. Many arguments are made, many ideas are proposed, but one thing is certain - something must change. No longer should a city of a thousand men be ordered by a single demagogue, or directed by a sole ambitious conqueror.

The clever Soulstone smiths and rich tanners of the city seize this opportunity greatly. Though these artisans and craftsmen have been quite wealthy, their lack of social status compared to the military and priesthood has irritated them greatly. The wise men would be nothing without the economic background that supports them, they claim. Furthermore, the Spirit-Guides influence has dwindled once again, as of late. The lack of victory at Zhai Cheng has caused the peasants to become skeptical of their teachings. After all - the Spirit-Guides blessed that enterprise, claiming the gods were with them, only for their force to take terrible losses! What do they really know! They either misinterpreted the wills of the gods in a dreadfully incompetent way, or lied through their teeth. Regardless...there will be no more rule by the Spirit-Guides alone. Though the city is quite unstable during this time, due to every faction vying for power - this is for the better.

Additionally, a new city is founded this year! To the Southwest, 200 brave men erect houses and make camp. Like their brethren in Corvus, they settle atop a hill with a clear view of the landscape.

by **Lazarian** » Tue Feb 23, 2021 9:15 pm

Corvus, Year 40 of Destiny’s Awakening

Lore to come after work tomorrow. Oligarchy is adopted.

A Different World: The Noble Cities [IC|Closed]

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