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

by **Elerian** » Thu Jan 14, 2021 8:02 pm

Aled Aedryn

Whence will come the great Emyr, the powerful King, the King of nations, the King of the Aederfolk, the King of the two tribes, the pious ruler, the worshipper of the great gods. The architect of great works, the noble hero, the strong warrior, the first King, the great punisher of unbelievers who are breakers of the holy decrees. Ard Feainn the great lord, will give unto him the throne of this world.

Over all dwellers in every place he shall exalt his warlike arms. From the upper sea of the setting sun to the lower sea of the rising sun, all the chief men will he force to bow down as his slaves. And the Kings, who were heretics, will flee from his attacks. Flown from their towns like frightened birds. Scattered singly to places of safety.

by **Ralnis** » Thu Jan 14, 2021 9:11 pm

Warcyfle

Dawn Singer had made Gu look like a fool but then again the chieftain had been acting like that for the past ten years. The Aun'kal have them cornered and without the trade between the two islands, the Warcyfle were suffering. The leader of the less sophisticated people had made it clear that this blockade will need more reparations for the damages caused. They didn't say how much they wanted for payments but he decided to try and move the food again while continuing the talks to reopen their trade to them in order to bring prosperity to their peoples.

Gu and himself went through the same procedures while the people grumbled about the new taxes being asked by the supporters. Many of the people are asking for new homes and with the taxes being small, he had to open up the trade again. The only thing he could do is to try and think about the people as he goes back to talk to the Aun'kal again for peace and trade.

by **Prusslandia** » Fri Jan 15, 2021 5:44 am

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Fri Jan 15, 2021 2:43 pm

Year 202 of the Reckoning
Turn 2

Zhai Cheng: Dark days. Protestors have downed tools, refusing to work for a state that treats them so poorly and won’t provide them with decent homes. Some of their anger is expended as cool heads prevail, but the work slowage is unfortunate nonetheless. 100 Artisans and 100 Scholars will not work or produce resources these two years. +2 Stability

Varra: The emissaries dispatched to the Manisaharu report that the highlanders seem reticent to go to war for any cause, and quote a high price - eight cartloads of precious goods - for their warriors to march alongside those of the Pillar. From the Machaka, no news.

Sorrowfree: The wise mothers have learned, of sweat and salt and stinking water, and how these things may be combined to create firm leather from rough hides. All is not well though - the grumbling of the people has intensified, and before the year’s end several families strike out from Sorrowfree, seeking new homes “where they will be appreciated”. 100 Peasants have migrated from Sorrowfree, increasing Stability by 5.

Riverlands: It is a small thing, in some ways, to formalize the rituals of work and labor and so raise high a civilization. But the mysteries of how to make men accept the instruction of others - these are more difficult, but now what the folk of the Republic understand.

Kharbarinth: From red river-clay, and sodden earth, to be seared by sun and kiln, vessels and amphorae and more can be crafted, which now the Deepkin understand. In Stalheim, though, things are dark. Men have gone on strike against the long working hours, and 100 Artisans and 100 Scholars are protesting for better living conditions. +2 Stability

Warclyfe: The Aun’kal greet this continued tribute more favorably. After consultation with his merchants, the Dawn Singer declares that the Warclyfe will be forgiven after reparations of 4 Wealth, to make up for that lost by the blockade.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Fri Jan 15, 2021 4:55 pm

The Deepkin

Way of Silver, Stalheim
Fifteenth of Summersheat, Year Twohundred Four of the Reckoning

Over the long stone, speckled with black and blue chips of rock, the man stooped. His beard, close cropped about his face, caught several sparks as his right hand moved in a steady rhythm - up and down, up and down. With each upstroke the other hand, protected by a thick glove of woven fabric, moved the cherry-red implement on the surface before him just a fraction more. Gradually, but surely, the length of glowing metal began to flatten out, assuming a new shape.

As the cherry glow faded, the man frowned behind his beard, and thrust the blade back into a small oven nearby. Heat radiated from the oven like the sun’s rays on the shores of the sea, adding to the rivulets of sweat that were running down the man’s back from the sweltering heat of summer. But this was the best time for the forging, for the fires did not need to be built as high now, nor did a blade need to be returned to the flames as frequently. The Father has ordained that in this season the very world itself would perform a portion of the smith’s labor, and so only the busiest of men in fair Stalheim conducted their metalworking outside of the season of the sun.

Out came the blade again, and the hammer rang on the singing bright silver metal. Most of the blade was dun, save where the hammer had knocked away the flakes of hot coal and annealing ashes which obscured the underlying beauty. But where that silver shone through, you could get a taste of the mirror-smooth surface that a man could achieve, if he felt so inclined.

This tool would not be polished so finely. It was no soldier’s blade or arbiter’s mace, but a humble adze for striking stone from soil. It was oblong, sturdy, shaped to be wielded for many moons in the most vicious of manner against the unyielding bones of the earth ere it was returned to the Forge to be wrought anew. But that did not stop the Stalheimadrin from laboring well over his work, from taking pride in his craft.

After several minutes more of labor he stirred from his posture, taking the still-glowing implement in tonged hands and plunging it into a barrel of thin sap, taken from the nuts of the trees that grew along the banks of the Black River. The cloud of steam it produced was gratifying, and the strength the process lent the tool not to be despised. Even as the iron for which their city was founded, the Stalheimadrin were tough and unyielding. There were many words now exchanged between magistrate and man of craft, for many felt their interests had not been appropriately looked after. But when what was needed was done, and the sturdy foundations of the Deepkin prevailed, no doubt others would be back at their labor shortly. The labor of hammer, anvil, and warm metal.

by **Elerian** » Fri Jan 15, 2021 6:28 pm

Aled Aedryn

Ard Feainn, the great Lord; ruling supreme over the gods, the giver of scepters and crowns, he who appoints sovereignty. Gedymdeith, the Lord of the deep, determiner of destinies, Father of the gods. Rhiannon; the urger on of all, the bearer of the high scepter. Cahir; Lord of the spirits of heaven and the spirits of earth. Senuna; she who causes the tempest to rage over hostile lands and wicked countries. Ysbaddaden; the champion who subdues heretics and enemies, and who strengthens the heart. Glenna; the eldest of the gods; the Queen of Victory; she who arranges battles.

The great gods, ruling over the heavens and the earth, whose attributes I have recorded and whom I have named; the guardians of the Aederfolk, the Prince inspiring your hearts with joy; the proud Chief whom in the strength of your hearts you have made firm, to whom you have confided the supreme crown, whom you have appointed in might to the sovereignty of the realm of Dol Aelyd, to whom you have granted pre-eminence, exaltation, and warlike power. May the duration of his empire continue forever to his royal posterity, as everlasting as the great stone spines of the earth.

Ard Feainn the powerful king; supreme King of Heaven; King of the four regions; King of all Kings; Lord of Lords; the supreme; Monarch of Monarchs; the illustrious Chief who under the auspices of the Sun god, being armed with the scepter and secured with the girdle of power over mankind, rules over all the people of Aled Aedryn; the mighty Prince whose praise is blazoned forth among the Kings: the exalted sovereign, whose servants Gedymdeith has appointed to the government of the Aederfolk and has made his name celebrated to posterity; the conqueror of many plains and mountains of the earth; the conquering hero, the terror of whose name has overwhelmed all regions; the bright constellation who, according to his power has warred against heretical countries, there being no equal to him.

I Brigantia dor Gwyrr, the great Ithel, the mighty Ithel, Chief of the Aeder, Ithel of the four quarters, the wise shepherd, favorite of the great gods, guardian of right, lover of justice, the god Ard Feainn, the great mountain, an unrivaled kinship has he entrusted to me, and above all those who dwell in palaces, has made powerful my house. Over all the Aederfolk do I rule.

by **Pragia** » Fri Jan 15, 2021 9:09 pm

The Eleskar found themselves entering a new age of prosperity in the last few years. Where they were before sleeping without shelter they were now kept warm inside their homes. This, when coupled with full bellies and fuller minds, resulted in a new hope toward the future. Suddenly even overworked laborers thought the path was appearing before them just as surely as food could be conjured as it was before. As Syndra began teaching her fellows the new words of their people, workers would weave themselves among the crowd, seeking knowledge from those who were even now being armed with the tools to convey it effectively.

The newfound clay was rapidly becoming the most needed resource despite the large amounts being extracted from the river. Artisans would tally goods on tablets, keep track of their supplies. scraping clean their slate at the end of each day. While the secrets to rendering it hardened evaded the magi, they still found it useful to pile blocks together inside a building, taking some finished raw clay slabs and allocating them to an open-air place of learning. The artisans and some of the magicians agreed, to Syndra's surprise, to erect a monument to their magister for providing them this new catalyst for so many things to follow. A 10 foot tall statue of her upon a stone pedestal, her name carved at the apex of its base. A list of epithets would be given below it, honorifics circling the pedestal from "First Magister" to "Shaper of Words" with the full alphabet engraved on each side.

Among the peasants, however, there was much less enthusiasm, and much more suspicion. This obsession with their new language and their conveying of ideas was lost on the illiterate lower class, and they were the ones slaving away in the muck by the rivers to provide their leaders the trinkets they wanted. Now they were creating idols to their leader, when they had been providing what the magisters had claimed power from before. The only thing keeping them from seizing their farms was a loyalty to their kin, and thankfulness for their leader providing them homes, despite how paltry they were.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Fri Jan 15, 2021 11:26 pm

by **Novas Arcanum** » Sat Jan 16, 2021 8:37 am

Crossroads

King Wei Liang would visit the shaman Wu in her hut outside Zhai Cheng. Wu stood outside her hut wearing humble robes, she bowed to show respect. "King Wei Liang it is an honor, I see that you wish to have your fortune read?" She says. Liang simply nods his head. The shaman takes the king into her hut. In it was a fire and a pile of bones sat in beautifully made wooden box." Come Wei Liang and sit ask me the question you wish to know, and I will inscribe it on the bones and learn from the ancestors the answer that you seek." She says.

"I wish to know of this era of disharmony will come to an end, and if I can lead my people back in a righteous path." Wei Liang says to Wu.

Wu takes one of the bones and writes the question onto the bone. She then throws the bone into the fire." Now we will see the answer the ancestors have for you."

Wei Liang would wait in anticipation. He was shocked to see massive cracks form on the bone and sparks being unleashed from the flames. The shaman was not shocked however and anticipated this. She grabs one of the fragments of the bones and reads the cracks on it. "Ah yes the Middle Kingdom is at a crossroads the actions you take has king will determine rather harmony is restored or rather we enter a age of disharmony" She says.

"I see so we are at a crossroads" The king says to himself.

Wu simply nods in agreement.

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Sat Jan 16, 2021 9:24 am

The Land of Penithel

Filthy, cramped, ramshackle and cobbled together out of anything that could be scrounged from nearby, rickety hovels and even just simple tents, that is how the majority of Pennenthelli had lived for generations, those were the homes they came to after a long day of hard work farming, hunting and now collecting stone. Most of the people had little comforts but a simple bedroll to lay down on and the Chant of the Light ministered to them by the priestly scholars at the shrine near the center of town. But that was to change, between tending their labors the King had set them to work in the town, now that they had a stout palisade to keep potential raiders out as well as keeping the One-Horns from wandering off during the night, they needed to tend to what those walls protected, which currently wasn't much, only their shacks and tents mostly. And so men labored away, raising stout walls of wood, mud and straw covered with roofs covered in turf to keep the rain out. It was hard work but the men labored away with determined looks on their faces as their wives and children brought them food and water while they rested, the work they did was to make sure they and their families would sleep under proper roofs, surrounded by proper walls, with actual furnishings on the inside other than just simple bedrolls.

Such work would take much time, after all there were many people that needed to be housed. In the mean-time, the scholars of the Pennenthelli traveled alongside the traders upon the paths that led north, to the lands of the Riverfolk. There they studied their knowledge of building for it would be needed to raise ever more formidable structures, especially a new wall of stone that no man could scale without great determination. Perhaps when such a mighty defensive structure had been finished the Pennethelli would move on and realize new dreams, plans and visions...

by **Olthenia** » Sat Jan 16, 2021 9:41 am

Art of the East

Aledian Belt Clasp

This bronze and silver buckle is unusual in that both its top and bottom plaque are preserved, along with remains of the iron rivets used to attach it to a leather belt. Small figurines show warriors wearing similar clasps, suggesting this was designed for use by a soldier. It is atypical of a type of buckle produced in the Aledian riverlands, where silver is not usually found. In design it is closely related to engraved examples of artwork in southwestern Elerian, a geographic area that strongly influenced the artistic development of surrounding regions. Spirals were a popular motif in Aledian art and were often combined with concentric circles on buckles such as this one. The design was created by carving a pattern on a bronze panel, then hammering a sheet of silver into the indentations.

Corvan Bronze Ewer

Vessels of similar form and construction have been excavated in Carnelia, Antaglia, and the Aledian riverlands, with related ceramic examples from Lazaria and the Olthenian desert. The piriform shape of this vessel is divided into two sections by a narrow raised band. The convex lower body rests on a hollow ring foot above which the elegant neck gradually tapers into a trefoil lip. A three-ridged handle spouts from a palmette with tendrils and attaches the lower body to the lip. At the top of the handle the three ridges transform into three snake heads, the central one of which extends directly into the vessel. The closest parallel to this ewer is an example from Mantello in Lazaria, at the Institute of Ancient and Pre-Historic Art, which has looped snake heads at the top of the handle.

Khortuun Bowl

During communal feasts across the Northern Drylands, food is served in a variety of carved wooden bowls. Guests receive bowls sized according to their position in the community—the higher the rank, the larger the bowl. Khortuun artists imbue serving dishes with energy through graphic elements, including abstract humans, animals, and supernatural beings. The master carver of this deep container inlaid the incurving rim with four sets of nine white opercula—the removable coverings that secure a striding-lizard’s head-shell—which contrast with the dark wood. This bowl is a rare example of an early contact-period style of ornamentation, not yet influenced by trade with Hegemonic expeditionary forces.

by **Nuxipal** » Sat Jan 16, 2021 10:43 am

The City of Daru
Year of the Ancestor 108

The wealth from the hides were bringing the city back towards a place where the worship of the Ancestor could be brought back to the center of the city's focus. The Shrine was nearing completion, and Kirtar was planning a large festival on the day that it was officially opened to the public. The festival would be a way of creating a distraction amidst the populace during a time in which the city's infrastructure was in dire need of improvement and repair. Promises were being made to the people of the city about the coming improvements to the city's homes once they were able to bring proper attention to their patron Goddess, without whom they'd have all died of starvation and exposure decades ago.

The Slaves, who had put the most effort into building the shrine, were not the most content. Their ancestors were not of the Nirari. There were those among them who wished to return to the land their ancestors were taken from. Others wished to remain as this was the only cultural identity they had left and many of them worshiped the ancestor seeking her aid in the releasement of their bonds.

On the day of the shrine's completion. First Kirtar strode through the entrance of the building and dedicated the shrine to the Ancestor. The soldiers formed ranks and marched within the city as part of the festivities. As the day's activities wore on, food was brought out to further distract the people from their suffering. With the winding down of festivities on that day and the opening of the shrine, there was a sense that the future was going to start to improve.

by **The GAmeTopians** » Sat Jan 16, 2021 11:16 am

The Republic of the Great River

The Crown, Rivermouth
First of Sunbloom, Year Two Hundred and Four of the River's Birth

The central ring of the Eastern Jewel of the Great Plains had wide dirt-packed roads, long since trampled flat under the feet of citizens, merchants, and travelers. Many of the former vacancies along the road in years past had been replaced by fine cottages, housing the elected officials and successful elite of the city - though thanks to the previous years of work by the new legislative body, this year the city approached a 100% housing rate, Riverrow holding hundreds of sturdy huts out among the farms that sustained the great Republic. In the Crown, too, more changes were afoot. A vast space lay vacant along the row, a flat space only interrupted by the beginnings of foundations being laid.

"Alright, folks! Come to me when you need a task, do it to completion, then report back for another task. My colleagues will be walking around and making sure everything is running smoothly - if they give you a correction, follow it - you're not in trouble if they say something, just fix it! Let's get to work, folks! For the Republic!"

"FOR THE REPUBLIC!" A swarm of eager laborers lined up in front of the authoritative craftsman. This was a new way of doing things for the people of the River - but the scholars that had led them faithfully forward for centuries insisted that this would be immensely effective. The leading artisan gave out individual instructions tailored to individuals and small groups, then as the laborers scurried over the construction site, several artisans followed behind - supervising, guiding. This would be the birthplace of their children, and their grandchildren - this would be the birth of a generation greater still.

by **Lazarian** » Sat Jan 16, 2021 9:20 pm

Corvus

The Outskirts of Hillhome
Twelfth of Greenfields

As the sun rose over the hilltop city of Corvus, it rose upon a strange and new day. A monumental day, intermixed with worry and excitement at once. At the outskirts of the city, a vast congregation stood. Nearly the entire population of the village were gathered there, milling about in anticipation and excitement.

A hundred men from the village were preparing to journey out into the vast wilds, in chase of a mere possibility. An unlikely possibility, but one with incredible promise and potential. A shot in the dark, perhaps, but one worth pursuing according to the elders of the tribe. In a rare moment, both Corran and the eldest Spirit-Guides had come to agreement that this was the wisest move. Equipped with riches, thick loads of dried meat, and the best tracking dogs of the village - the men were excited and eager to depart.

But first, tradition demanded that its rites be undergone.

"In the eyes of the ancestors, I now change your name-title, Seyon Gardener Steadyhand!" Corran proclaimed, painting a line of red dye down the youth's forehead. "From this day until the day you return, may you be Seyon Guidesman Steadyhand. May the ancestors recognize your calling, and know among which ranks of the afterlife you belong. May the guidesmen of the past come to you in dream and instinct, and lead you to where you seek with both speed and safety. May you bring glory to your newfound name!"

"I am honored, Tribelord." the young man said with vigor, standing proudly in the forefront of the line. "May I bring glory to my newfound name!"

by **Ralnis** » Sun Jan 17, 2021 4:06 am

Warcyfle

The chieftain finally manage to get some good news that came from Dawn Singer. 4 Wealth was quite a bit in order to reopen the trade routes between one another. It was needed of course for such a thing to bring wealth back to Lo and for him to be seen with some support once again. Just when the taxes came from the disgruntled people but they could understand enough that this money and taxes will be enough to reopen the trade shores of the island.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sun Jan 17, 2021 11:39 am

Year 204 of the Reckoning
Turn 3

Kharbarinth: With mortar and stone and timber men build great things, and the careful measuring and planning of many architects and scholars has produced a new method of building which the Deepkin now take to heart, that of formalized construction, a way whereby their cities will flourish.

North along the coast the plains continue, a familiar region of low white hills unfolding as the explorers come ashore. To the north stretched the sea, and of course the west. To south is the forest, and east more coastal plains. There are no signs of men here, but the hills are shot with sun deposits of gray tin, and here and there large sharks can be seen hunting in the shallows offshore, with large black dorsal fins. Great red rubies, some of the largest the explorers have seen, can be found in seaside caves.

Aled: With clever hammer and sparks flying in the night breeze, the metalworkers of the Aled have begun creating new weapons and tools, carefully smithed and beaten to be strong against all need where simple cast items will not serve.

Machaka: Clever are the wise men of the northern river city, and they have now keen ploughs and a greater knowledge of the seasons of planting and harvest. Their gardens grow and flourish, and expansive farms waving from horizon to horizon are now within their grasp.

All is not well though. Wild men have been spotted observing the city from the trees nearby, and this speaks to dangerous times to come, when the city might again be tested in the force of arms. The people fear this, and call for warriors to be raised to defend the city. Their fear is infectious. -2 Stability/Turn until 100 Warriors are raised.

Sorrowfree: Though dark times have visited the city of late, there is much to celebrate in other quarters. Miners excavating new homes for the growing people have stumbled into a network of small low caverns deep in the side of the Vale, where glittering copper is to be found. Rich now shall be the daughters of the Mother Moon! Resource added to Sorrowfree - Native Copper.

Daru: There is much grumbling in the city - with the skilled who consider themselves above such tasks forced to do hard labor, and all housed in squalor, the hearts of the people grow dark. Disease and want stalk the streets, and when spring comes some of the men have had enough - nearly a hundred families of humble peasants, with little to look forward to in life except misery, depart the city with the spring rains. They say they leave to seek better lands.

Corvus: Out into the wide warm flatlands the citizen-explorers journey, rumors in their hearts and a charge in their heads. Their lords have sent them forth to seek for sojourners, men who have abandoned other lands, and the wealth they bear on their backs is a sign of the prosperity of their land which they would show to these people. After many months of journey, they come upon the wandering Khortuun, and share a meal with them. Their speech of their homeland is well received by the outlanders, and the wandering peasants return home with the men of Corvus, interested to see what life is like in this other region.

by **Novas Arcanum** » Sun Jan 17, 2021 12:45 pm

中国

The Middle Kingdom

Heaven had granted it's favor to the people of the Middle Kingdom. Rejoice was in the air for this year everyone would be housed in both Zhai Cheng and Zhongdu. For the first time in a long time everyone would live in proper homes and that was a cause for joy. In Zhai Cheng there was much debate. There were those who advocated for the destruction of the slums, but king Wei Liang knew that was unwise.

"No we will keep the slums and use them has transitionary housing for our growing population until we can construct proper homes for them. Better to have those slums then have nothing at all for when our population grows even bigger." He says. The elders nodded in agreement.

Meanwhile progress continued afoot on the developing of the writing system. The Huang system was developed centuries ago but it was not a fully developed writing system. Made even worst were the regional varieties with Zhongdu style being different from Zhai Cheng style of glyphs. Wei Liang disliked these differences between the regions, there should be one style of writing, one style of weights and measurements instead there were several it was ridiculous.

In the future there would be ways to standardize these everything and unify the land, all under Heaven.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Sun Jan 17, 2021 4:55 pm

by **Pragia** » Sun Jan 17, 2021 5:12 pm

The Eleskar would enjoy more prosperity in the years to follow their storm of new knowledge. There would be great progress made, with a new hall being raised around what was once the open air lectern of the Magister, becoming a closed gathering area where clay tablets and carved wooden writings would be kept as a repository of knowledge. This building would become the heart of the evolving town that was being created, with its structure being across from the statue of Syndra Eleskar.

This statue was adorned with additional carvings compared to its initial portrayal, as reforms were detailed on the pedestal. Though Syndra had children, she knew that the strength of their society through future generations would rest upon more than a single lineage. Thus it was written that while the Eleskar line would rule in perpetuity, the most able magi as determined by comparisons of ability and knowledge would form a council of Seven, who in unison may stand against the Eleskar ruling their people and negate their judgement. This would be the first time an Eleskar would offer a mitigation to their power. Though it was detailed that the Magister may always remove a member of the council at their wish, it at least gave them a group of learned advisors who would be best respected by their scholars and provide insight and mediation.

This creation of a council spurred on a series of contests among the now-expanded cadres of magicians and learned men and women of the Eleskar. For the first time since there were far fewer of them, the entire population subsisted on the production provided by the magi. This gesture was one that the peasants took in mixed minds, thankful that they did not need to toil in the fields, but now bereft of purpose becoming wanderers of the land, bringing the occasional good back to the town. This new issue spurred the final stages of the plans of the Magister, who would begin inviting the peasantry into the new scholarly building to begin to teach them the more complex ideas they sought to learn.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sun Jan 17, 2021 5:48 pm

The Deepkin

Whitehall, Government Hill, Kharbarinth
Twentieth of palemoon, Year Twohundred Six of the Reckoning

The omens were good, and reports from the east and north better still. The small group of men that sat around the long graven black stone table were all engrossed in the reports, as was usually the case with these meetings. Some, as was wise, would have perused the information beforehand. But it was still both impolite and crass diplomacy to rush into a discussion where some members of the body were still digesting the news.

After nearly a half of a bell, a young man with a thin blade of a nose was the first to speak. His voice amusingly belied his appearance, deep and full.

“The maps from the north must be considered. Our people would profit greatly from access to both tin and the majestic gems which seem to be in large quantities with the bay. Not to mention -“ and here he gestured at an older man with a blonde beard flecked in gray “- the seas may be our key to finding other men.”

Some heads nodded. Others were silent. One frowned, and stood, still frowning. Brightlord Avitus was not known for either his optimism or charity.

“Trade is well and good. But we have many priorities closer to home. Stalheim roils with discontent. The reports from the crèche indicate we shall need more homes for our kindred shortly. And just because the Father’s less favored children no doubt live beyond our horizons, why should we search for them?”

It was an old philosophical debate, given new pragmatic weight by debates in the markets of the City of Bells. They were not living in squalor, and while seeking other men, hopefully civilized, might bring profit - it also might bring danger. Isolation was the route of those conservatives who favored a methodical approach to the needs of their kindred, while expansion excited the young and indeed the bloodthirsty.

Many grumbled at such an old argument resurfacing. The aging chief, Highprince Savilar, held up both hands to forestall a tired but acrimonious debate.

“There is no need to chart either course. We should prepare ourselves for any eventuality, while tending to our most pressing concerns. Master Strennous, send messengers to the Wanderers that the forges require more tin for the arming of our warriors. Friend or foe, met sooner or later, the children of the Father should be met on our terms, not theirs.”

On this point none of the council complained.

by **Elerian** » Sun Jan 17, 2021 9:12 pm

Aled Aedryn

A great god is Ard Feainn, who makes excellence on this earth, who made man on this earth, who makes happiness for man, who makes good works and good cities. On me he bestowed them. Other sons of Gwynn there were, but thus to Ard Feainn was the desire, Elgyr my father made me the greatest after himself. When my father Elgyr went away from the chiefdom, by the will of Ard Feainn I became Ithel in my father's stead. When I became Ithel, I built much excellent works. What had been built by my father, that I protected, and other structures did I add. What moreover I built, and what my father built, all that by the favor of Ard Feainn we raised.

Thou who shall be hereafter, if you shall think, "Happy may I be when living, and when dead may I be blessed," have respect for that law which Ard Feainn has established; worship Ard Feainn and Gedymdeith reverently. The man who has respect for that law which Ard Feainn has established, and worships Ard Feainn and Gedymdeith reverently, he both becomes happy while living, and becomes blessed when dead.

May Ard Feainn together with his fellow gods protect me, and my house, and what has been inscribed by me.

by **Nuxipal** » Mon Jan 18, 2021 11:18 am

The City of Daru
Year of the Ancestor 110

The betrayal was immense. The disrespect for the Ancestor was just about equivalent. Of course, Kirtar couldn't stand idly by. While the city's wealth was meant to aid in the growth and expansion of the city, it could also be offered to incentivize citizens to return to aid in improving the lives they tried to leave behind. He told them that the temple and economy would be stabilized first then new homes built. He, just like them, lived in these very same slums. Small and cramped, but they were still the homes of the Nirari. Without the citizens working the rural regions, the slave population took over that job. However, there was still a need for labor. Whether the peasants came back or not. Until that time, work had to be completed and then started again. There was always another option available, though it was not preferred, sending the army to acquire more slaves.

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Mon Jan 18, 2021 12:33 pm

The Land of Penithel

Stand ye still, child of the Plains
The grasses, the bushes and then pines around you are never lost
No matter which land you are in, it is always called Here
You must treat it as a mighty stranger clad in copper
You must ask it permission to know and be known

The Plain breathes
Listen and speak and it shall speak unto thee
I have made this place around you
Here is your land where you may always return
Wherever you may be wayward son of Penithel

Simply stop, saying... "Here"
Stand still for the Plains know where you are
If you are lost upon the path you must only let Them find you

- 22'd Sermon of the River-Father

by **Olthenia** » Mon Jan 18, 2021 3:05 pm

Khortuun

The Rock-Wound, Sorrowfree
Eighteenth Day of the Arc of Barraban, 206th Year of the Star-Count

Mondag shaded his eyes with a gnarled hand and glared. Above him, down the broken cavern where he’d climbed, slid and stumbled, ran a band of daylight as thick as his arm. Well, okay – a lot thicker, probably, but from where the old assessor stood, the comparison felt apt.

“Hmf~”

The air down here was cool. Thick, too – and harsh with rock dust. He felt it sear his throat as he breathed. Go too far underground, he knew, and you’d die from it. Unless the Stone Men took you first. As all Khortuun children knew from childhood – spirits, monsters and night-lurks all had home underground. To linger there for any man was a fool’s game.

And yet here he was.

Mondag – old and weather-worn, crusty and gnarled – was a man in the forty-first year of his life.

He was also an assessor; one whom the wisest mothers turned to for seeing. Hearing. Knowing.

“It’s safe!” he bawled at last – and cupped his mouth to give direction to his voice. Above him, almost immediately, drifted a relieved “Heard you!” And the scuff of feet mingled with the creak of rope and clink of tools as the workers standing by on lip of the bit above him prepared their own descent.

Mondag, spirits help him, knew the fool’s game through and through.

by **Lazarian** » Mon Jan 18, 2021 11:00 pm

Corvus

Shrine of the Ancestors
Nineteenth Day of Coldwind, Full Moon

"This is a wonderous omen indeed." whispered Liana Dreamweaver, lifting the bloodied entrails of the sacrificed goat aloft to the stars.

It had been a year of great tidings. The citizen-explorers had returned with new kin to join the ranks of the Hillhome City of Corvus, due to the assistance of the Bonadar and the benevolence of the Mother-Moon as they crossed her lands. The former Khortuun were bronze-skinned and lanky men, with bold hearts and a streak of daring. They had not been afraid to seek better lives. And thankfully, the Corvidian diplomats had been able to convince them that such lives were found here. Huts had been hastily erected, crops harvested, and tools polished and prepared for their new comrades. There was some altruism involved - the Khortuun were their blood-kin, after all, and it would not suit these fine men to perish wandering in the desert. Or worse still, to join the ranks of an enemy.

Of course, not all their actions had been rooted in noble intent. The future of their settlement was greatly strengthened by the wombs of those women and the labors of those men, after all.

It was customary among the Corvidian people to sacrifice four male goats during the last full moon of every year, in honor of the ancestors and the Great Aspects. The four eldest or weakest goats would be selected and dragged off, successfully both culling the weak along with providing the means for prophetic divination. The method of the sacrifice for three of the four was simple and clean - the sacrifice was tied to the respective god's pillar, and then its throat was slit by a curved Soulstone knife by the eldest spirit-guide. The entrails were then used for divination, discerning the moods and attitudes of each of the Four this year. The last goat, dedicated to the bestial and primitive Crow, suffered a much worse fate.

And this upcoming year held great promise indeed.

The first of the Four Aspects to be honored was Vennon the Warrior, greatest of the captains of the World Beyond. The organ which held prophecy for this Aspect was the Heart, which held a man's bravery. And this year, the heart of the sacrificed animal had continued to quiver for nearly thirty seconds after removal. This signified a great conflict, one which would shake the hearts of many men. But the heart was full and unblemished - a sign of victory for the Children of Corvus.

The next of the Four Aspects was the two-in-one, the Mother and Son. The divining entrails of this sacrifice were the eyes and liver. The eyes this year were rather cloudy and covered over with cataracts, which held some concern. No great innovation or discovery was likely to occur in the tribe this year. However, the size and the shape of the liver was healthy and full, signifying that the Mother would continue her guidance on wisdom and study of other knowledge.

The Third Aspect, the four-armed Jacnon, was represented through the stomach. The stomach of the sacrificial goat still had remnants of half-digested cud, signifying the harvests for the following year would continue as normal. The absence of food in a sacrifice's stomach indicated starvation or struggle, and a bloated belly signified a marvelous year of good tidings for industry.

As for the Crow, The First of the Spirits and Remnant of the Creator...well, he stood apart from the others. The Crow's sacrifice was conducted in a different manner than the Three Civilized Gods. He was an ancient thing - the source of the oldest voices of survival. The first creature to eat. To drink. To mate. A creature unpredictable and chaotic in nature. The voice of instinctual nature, the spirit which picked whether to flee or fight to the death. He would not be communicated with through such simple means as the reading of entrails. His sacrifice was led away out from the shrine, and then slit from the neck to anus, spilling its guts out upon the grass and the dirt. The mood and inclination of the Crow was divined by the behavior of the vultures and crows which would come to feast upon the sacrifice.

And this year, they were violent.

The carrion fought fiercely with one another, tearing at each other with eye and beak and talon. The guts of the chosen sacrifice were strewn across the earth, smashed underfoot in a cacophony of cawing and screeching.

It was an unmistakable message: He was pleased with what they had done. Their chase after the lost settlers and all the hope and excitement and passion which that had inspired - why, it had roused the Crow's spirits. The Sons of Corvus would be blessed in their endeavors this year.

So spoke the Crow.

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

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