The Ascent of Man [IC|Closed]

by **Pasong Tirad** » Sun Dec 09, 2018 5:45 pm

Ita
Beginning of the seventh year of the Chiefdom of Chieftess Bacani

Chieftess Bacani looked on at the rolling fenced-in pasture that they had built on one of the hills outside of the city. Several people who were working as herders had moved there, and were keeping an eye on the flock. A small altar to Kedes was built near the entrance to the pasture, to keep the flock safe from any would-be hunters and predators. Her people were well fed, and the community was able to get by better than they used to before her chiefdom. Ita was prospering - and now was the perfect time for it to prosper even further. The Wanderers were kept quiet for the moment, as was expected. They have, however, continued to remind the Chieftess of her promise to allow them to continue their exploration activities once the silver mine was up an running. She remembered, and she had no reason not to uphold her promise, as the thought of wealth being found in other lands was intoxicating even for her.

But they had to keep their eyes on the main goal for the next one or two years: the building of the proper silver mine. Prospectors had already found a suitable location for it on a nearby hill, where they believe they were able to dig up bits and pieces of silver from the ground. That was promising, and a proper mine right on the hill would generate a lot of wealth for the city. And so that night, prayers and dances were made and dedicated to Lueve, the goddess of growth and industry, and what seemed like half the working men and women of the city were sent to the hill to begin the construction of the mine - even the apprentices were sent over to help, as all the gears of the city were directed towards the restarting of the once-lucrative silver industry of the Ita people.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Sun Dec 09, 2018 7:51 pm

Year 333 of the Common Era

Delisle and Sons: An fine season of good funds and new company in the Company. Mining of the valuable cassiterite, done by the new hundred sons of the Company and the old, sees Delisle's coffers grow and swell. +Wealth II

The Magnum Opus: The Scholars of the Magnum Opus begin construction on a great obelisk to unleash the power of their ritual, but prove distinctly unsuited for the task. As the stones crawl towards the sky, men begin to grumble about hiring laborers to do the work properly, for the mages of the Opus are no masons nor day-workers. Severus' attempts to move the souls of creatures into tiny homunculi are of dubious success, for though he is able to take the blood-energy of the rats easily enough, forcing them into the bodies of stone and earth seems like trying to push a sword through solid rock. His efforts are frustrated, perhaps by a lack of input from his colleagues.

The Chosen of Neferkara: The attempts of the mages of Neferkara to transplant valuable barley cultivars are unsuccessful; not themselves well-trained in the agricultural arts, or indeed experienced in that area, the few plantings they make wither and die over the course of the year by and large. Some, of course, survive, but not in quantities that really make them valuable to exploit.

Order of the Bright Flame: The missionaries of the Order travel north for many days and nights, well provisioned and well-supplied, but meet only the occasional trader from the Imperium and see only wastes of endless ice. After months they receive good intel that the Wastelanders make their homes further east, beyond Xcotl, Fergdal, and the Zhou, so they do not return empty-handed, but they do return without conscripts. The training of those brothers who remained at home continues apace.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Sun Dec 09, 2018 9:28 pm

Shambling Legion of Ulm Bahadur
Year 333 of the Common Era

The march of both the dead and living softly echoes in the desert winds...searching for any towns or villages to raid and or anything that seems to be interesting. The shambling dead of Bahadur had no trouble moving about in the scorching heat - for they were undead, unconcerned of mortal necessities (only held together by black magic via Bahadur himself and his dark-mages nearby). Traveling with Bahadur was another small band of warriors lead by Magi Texmichi. It was his ally, Xcotl. Together, they only had 200 warriors to bear - a small contingent but it was something - good enough to raid any unsuspected settlements/explore.

Endless dunes of sands followed the mortals and dead alike. Nothing but sand the sun were visible. It was unbearable for the accompanied mortals. Many of Magi Texmichi’s men had collapsed under the pressure of the heat, but none had yet die as care was properly provided to them (for now). Still, the desserts were not forgiving.

While on travel, Bahadur spectated the men of Magi Texmichi from afar. They were equip with nothing more then simple bows and stone spear with only one or two men wearing any sort of real armor. Compared to the dead of Bahadur, Magi Texmichi’s men was lacking in the selection of armors and arms.

Something shall be found, it just took time to look for it.

by **Olthenia** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 6:47 am

The City of Fastaqui
Seventh Day of the Arc of Silt
The Third Sitting of Ocanda the Just
The Second Age After the Founding

The dancers shimmered, their sleek bodies covered with a fine sheen of oil. Blazing torches that lent the Square of Captains a queer, orange glow whirled from hand to hand to the beat of drums and the clash of cymbals. Whenever two torches crossed in the air, a naked girl leapt between them, spinning. The torchlight shone off oiled limbs and breasts and buttocks. Shoreg's eyes were drawn to neither, of course. For the three men were erect.

The sight of their arousal was itself arousing, though the Speaker of the Elder Tiers found it slightly ludicrous as well. The men were all of a height, tall as rivermen's poles, with long legs and flat bellies, every muscle as sharply etched as if it had been shaped from Coppercut ore. Even their faces looked the same, somehow - narrow chins, shorn hair and wide, dark eyes. Lovers features; the sort that made the heart flutter.

As the drums reached a crescendo, three of the girls leapt above the flames, spinning in the air. The male dancers caught them about the waists and slid them down onto their members. Shoreg watched as the women arched their backs and coiled their legs around their partners while, flutes weeping, the men thrust in time to the music. She had seen the act of love before - a Crone of Fastaqui knew to take her pleasure, after all - though this was the first time she had seen lust put to music quite like this.

But it made sense, she saw. For in Fastaqui the first of all duties - the Debt of Laughter - was aided by dancing. To music made by flute, drum and cymbal, preferably; until the body ached and mind swooned. Yet the debt of love? To pay that, no music was required; though Shoreg knew some who did not mind mingling one with the other. "The gods live both above and below," Old Nana had taught her in her childhood's final summer. "They taught us to love and they taught us to laugh. So we must honor them by it. Simply lay your body with another's, and pay homage with yourselves." Even now, Crone and Speaker though she was, Shoreg yet remembered how unnerved Nana's words had made her.

"I can pay my debt with words, can I not?" Shoreg had insisted. Yet Nana's tone had grown as dark as muddied waters. "Love and laughter is not paid with words, child. Your mouth is of no use for such things."

Her friend Taya had taught her otherwise, of course - scarcely a year later. "Oh, you can pay Love-Debt with your mouth," she'd exclaimed - her freckled face alive with a queer little half-smile. "It's easy! Let me show you."

And she had. With fingers, tongue and warm, wet lips. The Fastaqui way.

Oh, Nana, Shoreg mused. If only you'd known.

by **Revlona** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 7:05 am

City of Lordaeron

Lord Savarian Strong stood on private training ground said reserved for the order.

He watched as several dozen of the order trained against eachother with flame and spear.

He knew that there tanks needed to swell, so he had sent members out to recruit willing men.

He also knew that the kingoms armies needed to be better, so he also sent men to attempt to make them better.

But the most important thing he did that day was instruct several members to attempt new forms of fire magic, stronger forms.

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 8:08 am

The Imperial Republic of Saladonia
The City of Salli

Lord-Imperator looked upon the finished statue, it was a statue of Lord-Imperator Cratus Rylander, father of the republic, usurper, and legendary gladium. Indeed in the coup he had betrayed the Saeling values, however so did the King who had betrayed his duties of being the king of the Saeling. Usually people said little about his father betraying the Saladonian ideals, however it was never taken lightly and men always questioned his father’s vows and oaths.

Beside the usurper statue was three smaller creatures, Drakelings. Scaled beasts born with the gift of flyt. The marbled statues were smooth- smoother than that of a drakeling that much is certain. In the Cratus’s hand held a spear holding it upward, and in his other arm the symbol of the republic a drakeling hung on his arm hissing at the other two drakelings. The Lord-Imperator was pleased with the craftsmanship of the statue.

He knew that like Cratus, his father and the republics father, that he too would have to deal with hardships in the days to come. A present example comes to mind, a reward for the priests. For years it had been known to the Saeling council that the priests desired the undead skeletons of their ancestors. The Saeling had refused to give them the skeletons on the grounds that they would be defiling their ancestors. However as days progress and ever since the plague hit, a large amount of buriels accumulated, costing space that could be used.

However this does not concern Tibus, no greater prospects exist, if he can cooperate and create a mutual relationship with the Chosen, than they could help one another. Another ally to oppose that foolish Senator, Daros Bryre. The clans however will not like to hear the idea, being men of honor and tradition, they would love to refuse Tibus’s proposal of the reward for the Chosen Priests. However Tibus had thought up a clever way to entice the clans, whether by old favors or by charisma.

Regardless, the senator meeting discussing this proposal be in a few more days, enough time to invite the Neferkara Priests and give them time to think of a arguement to aid in this debate. This will likely be a heated debate beaten him and Daros. Hopefully he can win this political debate.

by **Saxony-Brandenburg** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 9:27 am

The Honori People

Restless March towards the Heavens

Homa Daslant Stood in the chamber feeling alone, cold, and anxious. She stood before a gathering of six women, and one man, yet there was absolute silence, and all was deathly still. Only the crackling of the flames at the center of the chamber broke an unending, stiffening, still. And only the bitter chill from the single hole in the roof disturbed so very much as her hair. She took a deep breath, and plunged the knife into the back of the tied Man's neck, making him tense but one moment, before, limp. The blood began to rise immediately, and she had a hard time pulling it out, it seemed as though she was a bit too rough. The Warrior Khanna Orilia aided her, and yanked it forth from the man's corpse, before gingerly wiping it on a small white rabbit's skin, and handing it back to the older woman. Her aides slowly untied the man, and his limbs fell flat against the stone he tested upon. She glanced over at the two women standing just before the door, away from the bloodshed,and then back down, before sighing. "The deed has been done. The price is paid. Your law upheld. May he go in peace, and bless he be a loyal servant unto thee, madam moon." The older of the two looked over in horror at what she saw, and a few bittersweet tears came forth from her eyes. "We thank the gods for this justice today. For my daughter and I, thank you." She whispered, before tenderly rubbing her daughter's back, and leading her out the door.

The old judge let out another sorrowful sigh, and looked down upon the man. "The price you paid you bought with your words, and now, you must depart. The color for rape is red- do we have the clay with us?" One of her aides nodded, and brought forth a bowl of red clay, which she took and began to paint the naked man's back in, wherever the blood did not touch. She took a stick of charcoal, ritually blessed and taken from the sacred flame of the high judge's hearth, and began to write a few symbols onto the red canvas, read: "For the crime of rape, the punishment is death. Let him no burrial, for this is his fate." She put down the charcoal on the table behind her, and motioned for those who remained to move the body. They picked him up, before dragging him by the arms, his legs hitting every step and making two long lines in the dust and sand. Two dragged him, while one grabbed a torch to light their lonely midnight precision of the dead. Another grabbed a simple wooden instrument, which made a loud clacking sound as she hit it to the beat of their step. And Homa, she followed the procession and with a large brush and bowl of salt water, flicked it upon the earth the body trailed upon, not wanting to taint it by his blood and touch.

They finally made it up to the hill of the dead, a lonesome and cold, short hill a twenty minute hike outside of the city. They found a patch unoccupied, and dropped his body in the sand. They lined it with small rocks, and that was all the burial he would receive. The old judge bowed her head in solemn prayer, and whispered into the wind, before nodding it was time to go. A sinners body is left to weather and wrot- carrion for the sacred wildlife of the desert. His body would serve the land- and his soul would serve the gods.

The next day she saw the punishment of three theives- tried and found guilty of stealing a variety of goods- one jewels, one wheat, and one the meat of a camel to be sacrificed to the gods. She looked down on them in pity, but knew the law must be upheld. They were given the choice to pay double what they stole in fines. All three couldn't pay, but the matriarch of one boy's family paid the fee in his stead, and promised to punish him according to their code. He was freed- but the other two- a woman and a man- were unable to get help, and were ordered to receive corperal punishment the following day.

When the morning came they were lined up before the chamber the judges met, and were ordered to their knees in the sand. The warrior Khanna left the chamber in a plume of smoke, holding in his hand a beautifully carved whipping staff. A small crowd had gathered, primarily the families of the two who kneeled half-naked before them. Nobody liked doing this job- but it must be done. They were so young- but they were old enough to be tried as adults, and they knew what they would be getting into. The crack of the staff was heard, and their cries of pain soon followed. The crowd looked away in pity, and soon enough it was over. So was the way of the law in Honori society- strong-armed and unbending, even for minor crimes.

The Division of Labor

by **The National Dominion of Hungary** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 11:03 am

The Kingdom of Sera

The last two years had not been quiet. A good mood has spread across the ruling castes of the Kingdom as the scholars of the realm, after many years of diligent effort had developed more sophisticated agricultural methods, this included better clearing and maintenance of irrigation ditches, better cultivar selections and other advancements all serving to improve the realm's food situation. Now, new investments had to be prepared. Now the rural infrastructure around Serrith would have to be improved in order for these new advancements to be put to good use. One day, this land would turn into one of flowing fields thick with ripe crops. This would secure the food situation for the Kingdom and thus secure access to one of the most critical resources there were.

Yet, the improvements to the rural infrastructure would have to come later, the Prince was unable to get enough support from the nobility for such a move yet, and the King had little interest in overriding the aristocracy on this matter. And so things would go on much as the had for the past two years, the farmers working the fields, the hunters prowling the woods and laborers manning the stations at the clay pits and quarries. The construction of the scrape mine was however once more resumed in Sarfuth and the scholars of the Kingdom set their minds to a new purpose, namely taming and domesticating the wild sheep that frolicked in the lands surrounding Serrith.

by **Novas Arcanum** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 11:49 am

Lucian felt the heat of the sun pouring on his back. Magical incantations an innovation of the Magnum Opus covered every inch of his body. These where incantation of fire, and energy, they were meant to invoke the arcane, and draw energy from both himself and the power of the sun.

"Again! Concentrate your power Lucian and strike at the piece of wood before you!" His mentor, Scipio had instructed.

Lucian held his hand out and struggled to conjure a ball of fire, he felt heat gathering on the palm of his hands, and his tattoos seemed to glow, with power, he prayed to Arkane that his efforts would be awarded.

Action: By drawing fire incantations on their bodies, the Magnum Opus researches fireball magic and pyromancy. They also seek to draw upon the power of the sun, not as a primary source but to supplement and increase their firepower.

by **Nuxipal** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 12:44 pm

The Imperial Republic of Saladonia
Senatorial Meeting with the Chosen of Neferkara
Post written in Collaboration with Holy Tedalonia

The morning sun shined brightly on the mud daub theater that the Saeling called the Senatorial. Where respected leaders of their clans met in formal clansman robes, and addressed their fellow Senators on issues ongoing in Saladonia. At the bottom of the theater opposing the seats, was a bench for the Lord-Imperator to sit down and debate with his fellow politicians. A fairly open space lay between the Lord-Imperators seat and the theater seats allowing many to give open speeches, with movement to bear.

For centuries the Saeling and the only the Saeling debated in the Senatorial, debating both public and private affairs. Today, however would be the first day, a non-Saladonian has been brought into the Senatorial. Several of the 48 Clan Leaders grumble at this, for tradition weighs heavy on the Saladonian mind. As the Clan Leaders take their seats, Lord-Imperator Tibus stands up and begins.

“Take your seats, Senators, We have plenty of matters to attend to, first on the order of business, is the completion of the monument of Lord-Imperator Cratus Rylander. The artisans are proud of their creation,” said Tibus proudly.

He goes on further explaining the importance of Saladonian ideals, however makes a quick transition to the artisans next goal, making a farm in Salli. The vote was almost unanimous do to several past years of starvation, even Daros Bryre agreed to the proposal begrudgingly.

The Imperator moved on, “now for the next topic, the Priests of the Chosen of Neferkara, have been very helpful over the past few years, some experiments useful, some nice attempts, however their dedication for improving Saladonia has been noted. Thus, I request we bring grant them a request they were denied for in the past. Permission to use Saeling corpses.”

Disapproval, erupted in the ranks of some of the clan leaders. Most silently shaking their heads, others verbally objecting. Many however remained silently keenly observing their Lord-Imperator.

Tibus continued on, “to discuss this matter I have invited the representatives of the Priesthood.”

Tibus motions the guests into the theater.

From the wings of the stage within the theater, two robed figures walk out before the Senatorial. They both were of darker skin tones and seemed to be of foreign lands. The male, seemingly the elder of the two, spoke first. “Senators of Saladonia, please allow me to introduce myself and my associate. I am Setnakhte, High Priest of Neferkara and this is Neferata, Grand Priestess. We both have been residing within your city for the last few years and have sought to bring greater prosperity to the city and the people living within.”

He paused, trying to gage the reactions of the crowd. The knowledge of this city had been very minimal upon their arrival and there was some shock of its seemingly recent governmental change. However, seeing this instead as an opportunity, Setnakhte forced the rest of the priesthood to settle in here instead of returning west to the Necropolis of Xcotl.

Motioning to Tibus, “I would like to thank Lord-Imperator Tibus Rylander for permitting us to present our request to the whole of the Senate. We had previously asked him directly our request, but we had just arrived and had not done anything to prove our worth.” He motioned for Neferata to step forward and speak, “We have done what we can early on here to help, but there is more we can do. Our order has aided in the food crisis by attempting to teach your people how to cultivate the Barley which surrounds your lands. We unfortunately failed, but the knowledge we were able to pass on seems to have aided your own scholars in cultivating wheat in a nearby settlement. We do however see another shortage. You lack population for labor purposes. We can provide that labor.” She presents a scroll, it is recently transcribed into local hieroglyphs and she handed it to the Lord-Imperator.

Giving him time to look it over before continuing, Neferata addressed the senate. “Our homeland has had many achievements which we can bring here, one of which is our knowledge to raise the skeletons of the dead to serve as warriors and laborers. Aslani princes have long used this practice in building their great monuments, we can bring the same labor force here.” She waved her hand back towards Setnakhte and he briefly spoke, “It is now my intention to open the floor to discussion on our proposal. We would need enough skeletons to raise one hundred of the undead to aid us. While human skeletons work the best, it can be augmented with non-human skeletons of similar size. Are there any here who have questions for me or my associate regarding this action?”

“How does this affect the reincarnation of the spirit that lays within the human body,” asked a elderly more wise Senator he continues on, “a Saladonian burial designed to help a soul reincarnate into the next life by giving it weapons, tools, and other assortments for their next life. If we were to interrupt this process would it harm the spirit?”

Murmuring erupts in the crowd of clans leaders. Daros Bryre, one of the senators who regularly oppose Tibus Rylander, whispers into the ear of a fellow Clans Leader, shooting dagger filled eyes, at the foreigners. Undoubtedly casting suspicion whenever he can.

Neferata nodded, “A fair question Senator. While we can animate the dead, we only use the bones. The spirit and flesh are unharmed, unmolested, as it is not our place to intervene in those matters without direct consent from living family members. To be precise, our methods do not interfere with the matters of a soul’s ability to reincarnate into their next life. One of the many jobs of our order in Aslani was to ensure that a soul’s journey into the next life was successful.” She feels confident in her answer and again opens the floor for questions.

“Fair point priestess, but how do you intend to prevent people from seeing their loved one forced to walk about,” asked Daros, “I don’t think they’d appreciate the prospect of their loved ones bones laboring.”

Looking at Setnakhte, the priestess was given a slight shake of his head. She wasn’t to present the evidence they prepared for a question like this. “Again, senator, you ask fair questions of us. You must be the esteemed Senator Bryre we have heard about.” She gave him a slight bow in respect before answering his question, “To answer your concern senator. We have already appealed to your outcasts in this regard. While their bones are not as esteemed as those of your own ancestors, they have seen the potential that the fallen can have to benefit the living. For the average citizen of your city-state they can be convinced that having additional labor and defense in the form of their own ancestors, is infact, a manner in which their ancestors can continue to provide and protect them long after their own deaths.”

“Thank you, Priestess, but I’m afraid that is not my point, sure to think our ancestor’s bones would protect us, but surely you can understand that some loved ones who have grieved over their deaths would not be happy to see their companions bones put under labor and stress, knowing they are not at rest,” Daros countered, “surely you can understand their standpoint?”

Smiled as she sees the senator was indeed as sharp of mind as the reports indicated, “Of course senator. The grief following the loss of a loved one is immense and not something that we take lightly. I can assure you however, that there is no physical danger to the bones from completing labor for the city. To address the concern about them walking about further, I can tell you that it would be impossible to decipher one skeleton from another, and as I presume you have had many generations which have lived here, there would be a greater chance that someone’s loved one is not raised, than that there is a chance for them to be raised. Though, in times of greater need, such as our city falling under siege, it may be necessary to have more skeletons raised and thus prior permission to do so.”

Pausing as she notes Setnakhte take a step forward to interject his own thoughts, “Senator Bryre, I do appreciate your concern over the emotions and happiness of the population of the city. I am sure your own ancestors were just as empathetic as you are. However, if you wish, we can establish that no former rulers of Saladonia can be raised from the grave for simple labor. I do believe that would include most of your own as well as the father of the current Lord-Imperator as well.” He gives a look over to the Priestess as if to let her know he will handle the questions from here.

Daros sits back down with a dejected glint in his eyes, “thank you, High Priest for your wisdom, but I must refuse. It would not be right for me to receive special treatment, when my fellow man is offered none, The gesture is appreciated, however.”

Nodding to Daros, Setnakhte responded, “The gesture was of good faith, I assure you.” He turns his attention to the wider Senatorial. “If there are no further questions, may I ask the Lord-Imperator to put the matter to a vote?”

In the back row of the theater seats, one man stands. This was Davian Lazos of the Lazos Clan, a firm ally of Tibus Rylander, “I’m sorry, High Priest, but I think I can’t agree to this, I don’t believe I would be smiled upon by my ancestors if I were to agree to this. Labor has always been a thing Saeling’s done, however if this were to pass through and let another thing do my work, how can I live with myself? I just can’t agree to this.”

Several men nod, including albeit slightly Daros Bryre. Some grunted in approval, while others stayed silent. It was clear there was some friction between giving up tradition and adopting new ways.

Setnakhte was ready for this question, but not from a Senator he had been tipped off as being an ally of the Lord-Imperator. Against his first emotions to put down this train of thought he instead chose to gesture to Lord Imperator Tibus and simply say, “I believe the Lord-Imperator would be better at answering you than I am good Senator.”

The Lord-Imperator stood up. He glances the theater seats from left to right. Observing his clan leaders, and thinking quietly to himself for a split second. He began, “Davian, I understand you want to preserve tradition and your ancestors honor. I too, want to do that for my ancestors, but do you think you can do that dead? Starved to death without a proper meal for weeks? I think that’d be impossible.”

“Well, yeah that’s true, but we’ve stabilized our fo-“

“Nonsense, our city state supported more than a 1,000 men once, and now were 400 and we’re still barely capable of feeding our people! Imagine your wife and children starving? Do you think I’m considering this because I think the extra labor could be helpful? No! Besides what tradition is being robbed, the undead labor would be more workers, not to alleviate your work! We are Saeling men, do you think we’d consider undead labor to stop our hard stubborn work? Never! For the honor of the ancestors we will endure, but we will prosper!

Cheers erupted in the theater, the riled nationalistic clan leaders shouted in unison almost perfectly, “For the honor of the ancestors!”

Watching the Lord-Imperator’s response to his own ally’s concern was very telling of how he led the city. Setnakhte watched as the senators were whipped up into a frenzy and what once seemed as if it could be a close vote, now appeared to be all but written into laws. He would note this in case he fell out of favor with the Lord-Imperator or his successor when that time came.

Neferata had a different view of the whole affair. She had been too young to have been born in Aslani itself, but raised in that style she found this entire assembly to be a bit barbaric and repulsive. The shouting and cheering seemed to be a very tribal experience, one which she had never seen before. She hoped that in her lifetime they could return to claim Aslani and escape the lands which were ill suited to her liking.

Daro’s frenzied cheering, while a honest emotion hid a darker one. He had been bitter to lose once against to the Lord-Imperator. He had thought this debate was in the bag, but then the Lord-Imperator turned it around again. Regardless he will cheer for now, but he will keep an eye on the foreigners. If they fall out of favor, surely it will harm the Lord-Imperators reputation.

The vote had been unanimous, not even Daros dared vote against the frenzied crowd. The Senate agreed to allowing the Chosen Priests access to the Saeling corpses, but can’t unbury them if they are within the first decade since their burial. This of course can be overruled by Senate approval, if the time when it is necessary comes.

As the night came late and the senatorial meetings came to a close, the priests of Neferkara had withdrawn into the slums of the city where their headquarters were located. Setnakhte had previously ordered glow trees to be planted around the makeshift temple they resided in. As of now they were barely saplings, but the glow from them still created a sense of otherworldliness. He was expecting a visit from the Lord-Imperator any minute now and had prepared the main chamber accordingly. Large fires were lit in large stone dishes brought with them from Aslani to provide light inside of the mud brick enclosure which currently holds the members of the Chosen.

As the Lord-Imperator approached the entry was guarded by two of the Chosen, nominally priests, they were armed with spears and wooden shields to defend the way in and out of the compound. They made no move to prevent his movements as he entered the complex. Statues brought from Aslani depicting Neferkara displayed beside the fires, Tibus saw only one other person in the main chamber, the High Priest Setnakhte. The man was clad in black robes with what appeared to be a ceremonial headdress atop his head marking him in an almost kingly appearance within the temple.

Setnakhte nods and welcomes the Lord Imperator, “Welcome to the Temple of Neferkara, Lord-Imperator Tibus. I do believe we have more to discuss regarding today's events. We would like to begin raising the dead as soon as we possibly can.”

Tibus began, “we do. You can begin raising them whenever you want, as long as you remain discreet. We would want people to get used to the new change. There should be over a thousand corpses for you to access. You have plenty to choose from. Where is the priestess?”

Looking towards one of the halls behind the Lord-Imperator before giving him a slight smile. “She is unavailable at present.” He then adds, “Making preparations for our work.” He takes a few steps towards the altar-like apparatus at the center of the hall. “We appreciate your support. You will of course have our support should any of the senators seek to overthrow your Republic. By this time in two years time, we will have created a sizable labor force. Our next few years will be spent making these laborers for the city. They will be able to double as a militia force as well, or one for conquest should we require it.”

“Your support is all that’s necessary, all I have to do is muddy those who oppose the new government, so that they can’t gather the support they need. The Clans are by far the most influential of all of Saladonia, merely looking bad in front of them can make it impossible to gather the forces necessary to overthrow the government. That being said, today was another day that Daros’s image got muddied,” the Lord-Imperator does a slight bow, “thank you for aiding me in that, hopefully I can repay this small debt in the future, to you and the priestess.”

Nodding, “It was what was required at the time. I had hoped Neferata would be sufficient to answer his questions, but my reports indicated that he was a member of a former royal family. His influence would be the primary concern to that law passing. I did what I thought was best, offer him exactly what his concern was. He could either accept and be seen with contempt or withdraw himself from the discussion. He did the latter, which means he can continue to exert influence in the future.” Pausing for a moment he said, “Which isn’t the worst thing, he is a known opponent. Its best to keep opponents you are familiar with.”

“Agreed, regardless though, a Saeling debt must always be repaid, I am in your debt no matter the consequence,” stated the Saladonian, “on the other hand do you have a plan on a power source for your ritual? Magic costs power, hopefully you have something planned for this…”

The Lord-Imperator eyes the Priest curiously hoping to have the priest reveal his plans. He needed to ensure that if they were to establish results that they had the right tools at their disposal.

Setnakhte held a firm expression. He knew what was the foremost power for these rituals, but in that department they were lacking. “To be honest, in the times that Neferkara walked it was the souls of those he was raising that he used. However, I do not believe that to be the best way to complete our task here. We have plenty of dead Gladium whose souls can power our rituals for a few years. We will need a new source of power soon. If you can provide one, we will be most grateful.”

“Understood, many Saeling won't care for Gladium souls to be used, they don’t matter to them. Hopefully this will provide the results neccesary to keep Saladonia running well for a couple of years. Remember to tell the priestess about my debt to both you and her. I would love to tell her myself- Saeling words are best said in person, however as you said she is,” said Tibus struggling to find the right word, “unavailable.”

Nodding, Setnakhte said, “I will convey your thoughts to her and she will meet with you another time so you can express them in person.” He makes a motion towards a servant which appeared to notify him that preparations were complete. “It would seem that the priestess has completed preparations. If you would excuse me Lord-Imperator. I will put the plan into action. I will have the priestess deliver our request when she comes to visit you in the coming years regarding our mission as a whole.”
Walking away from the Lord Imperator after a bow, Setnakhte leaves the chamber through a small side door where indeed Neferata was sitting, she had been able to hear most of the conversation while she was preparing the spells. They spoke in hushed tones. “We have approval and the Lord-Imperators blessings, as well as a favor from him in the future.” Neferata nodded, “It would seem then that all we have to do is carry through with our end of the deal. Though, I do worry with our alliance with these barbarians. The display today at their assembly-” “Senatorial.” Setnakhte interrupted, “And we are going to respect their traditions here, no matter how young they are. So far the senatorial has been to our advantage, as we can present our matter before a large number of people and convince them of our needs. If we were to go to a monarch they could outright say no and we would be stuck until a new monarch arose.”

Neferata frowned, “We need our own settlement. One in which we can crown the heirs of Neferkara until he is raised to lead us once again. I will meet with the Lord-Imperator and other senators if we need to. But do not expect me to go before the ‘Senatorial’ like that again. I find it distasteful.”

The two of them set out on their objective, finishing the incantations and calling for the rest of the Chosen mages to start raising the dead.

by **Kelmet** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 4:01 pm

The Kingdom of Lordaeron

Year ten of the Reign of King Varian Menethil

The artisan mission to the allied city of Xctol returned back to their home of Brewnwall, were they were sorely needed for the constructing of a mine so the Kingdom could begin harvesting its vast iron deposits. With iron would come wealth, and the raw materials to forge for the warriors of the kingdom. But there was may things needed to be addressed for the future and sadly only a few could be met at a time.

The Order of the Bright flame was indeed proving their worth in expeditions to the north, well on their way to either gaining new converts to the Light, increasing the kingdoms population or ending a threat posed to the Alliance for to long. As always, another year guided by the light.

Assignments.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 4:18 pm

The Wind-Forge, Whitehills, Outskirts of Kharbarinth
Third of Windheight, Year 335 of the Common Era

Into the bath of tar-oil Sigismund plunged the blade, only just cooled enough to no longer be the cherry red of the forge. A great hiss of steam came up from the diluted substance, and a tiny gout of flame leapt towards the roof of the tall stone building, but only for a moment. Tar-oil didn't burn nearly as well as its namesake, thankfully, a property which made it excellent for the master smith's needs of tempering weapons. Out the long slashing hand-and-a-half sword came, edge suddenly marked black and dappled gray, and the tall white-haired brute smiled to himself. It wasn't quite the symphony of craft that he was used to, up here on the chill heights of the Wind-Forge where it overlooked the mighty city that was his home. There were a hundred more men here than he was accustomed to dealing with on the isolated hills, but that was the cost of the Hierarch's interest.

To produce a sword in a day was a tall order for most smiths, but he would manage. The price of success was wealth greater than that which he had ever had the luxury of enjoying before in his long career. It was one thing to carefully forge an implement of art and death for a wealthy merchant to defend his honor with, or a captain of a Free Company to wear on his hip in foreign lands; another to turn out serviceable weapons meant to last for an age, weapons to defend home and hearth in the hands of the chosen soldiers of the master of all the Keen-Folk, before the light of the Father. Around Sigismund the drumming of hammers and the shout of journeymen certainly had nothing in common with the peaceful whistle of the wind over the coals that the Forge-Master was enamored of. But that was the cost of progress.

Truth be told, the aged scion of House Crimsonhand was pleased to have the opportunity to pass on his skills. Few had been interested in the past in learning the difficult secrets of the Wind-Forge, to make iron dappled by the power of wind and tide, strong beyond the measure of lesser smelts drawn from bloomeries in the city below. In normal times there was little call for such fine metals, for for the uses of most men and artisans the lesser common iron was sufficient, and a damn sight cheaper to manufacture. But here the quality would matter, whether a coat of scales turned a blade or shattered under it, and so the finest materials had been commissioned.

"To the next smelt, Forge-Master?"

The older smith smiled as his attention was recalled to the present by the young sandy-haired boy who was his assistant. He turned and nodded, and the near-child moved forward with the heavy gloves of his office, placing the dully glowing banded iron into the flames to be heated. Another sword that would have to be folded, and folded again, to be added to the great stock of longspears, shortswords, scale-mail, and helmets which the Sunhold had commissioned. A good day for a strong wind, and Sigismund bent to his work as the coals glowed merrily in the sea breeze.

by **Toaslandia** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 7:09 pm

Apostolos Rellas was walking among the Chrysí Aspída. Everything was fine and it had been relatively quiet, but he had been worried about news from travelers lately. Apparently the amount of undead had risen, and he was worried the Chrysí Aspída would not be able to handle a large
horde. "Konstantinos Maheras, get those arrows over here!" He said, waving one of the Chrysí Aspída down. "Yes sir! Here they are!" Konstantinos said, bringing over several crates of arrows. "I want you to start adding barbs to these. Also tell the men to begin digging trenches around the camp, as I've been worried about the rise of undead." Konstantinos nodded and ran off to complete his orders, but before he left he turned and asked "Wait, you're worried about undead? The few we've seen were relatively weak. Is someone raising lots of them?" Apostolos shook his head and said "They are simply rumors I have heard from Cadmus merchants and travelers from far-off city-states. I just want to be prepared." Konstantinos sighed and went off.

by **Pasong Tirad** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 8:03 pm

Ita
Beginning of the ninth year of the Chiefdom of Chieftess Bacani

"We're almost finished here, Madam Chieftess," said one of the apprentices leading the construction of the mine. "We just need to continue propping up supports throughout the shafts. I've already put one of the artisans up to speed on what more needs to be done, and am ready to fully transition out of working on the construction."

"Very good, Master Apprentice," Chieftess Bacani said. "Thank you. Now, with the wealth coming in from the mine and with our food stores full thanks to our herd of goats, we can now focus on larger, more grandiose construction projects. But the apprentices need to have a greater knowledge of construction methods. Listen to the elders, study our traditions, try and find out how our ancestors built our walls. I have a meeting with the Wanderers, Master Apprentice. Meet me later, I'd like to hear a proper plan of research!"

And she left, with another gaggle of advisers trailing right behind her as she basically sprinted away from the hills and into the city where, in their great hall, the leading members of the families of the Wanderers were summoned. They probably weren't expecting her to say something along the lines of allowing the funding for another expedition, but that's exactly what she did. "The mine is almost complete, dear Wanderers. Our coffers are bountiful, and I believe the people of Ita will be able to fund another expedition." The Wanderers were practically jumping for joy as she said those words. For the past two years they have been constantly reminding her of her promise to them. And now, another expedition was something they were going to have. "We've seen the lands to our east and west, and they seem empty. Now, you are to head south. You shall be well-supplied, as our herd of goats will be able to act as food sources for you, as well as perhaps being able to aid you in carrying some of your luggage. Safe travels, Wanderers, don't forget to take part in our ceremonies tonight as we pray for your safe travels."

by **Ralnis** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 8:33 pm

Xcotl, Land of the Dead

With migration of new people to the city of Xcotl. The new skilled labor was much needed for the growing industry. The city housed more wizards and magically inclined people for the Gate Council. From the Magnum Opus to the Shambling Legion, the undead were growing in number across the world.

While the Gate Council had heard of the common undead being used, they wished to further their goals in necromancy. They continue to research their arcana as they send their army with the Shambling Legion and try to find a new city-state to raid for the sake of getting higher-tier sacrifices for their spells.

by **The GAmeTopians** » Mon Dec 10, 2018 9:04 pm

The Great Zhou Imperium
Year Nine of the Second Era

Night fell. The clamor of voices amongst the tightly packed campsite brought sound to otherwise silent surroundings, a bitter tundra where the only items of merit were those that lay beneath the earth. Bundles of iron lay in various locations throughout the campsite - they were the target of this expedition, and the result of the explorers' hard work.
"I wonder what those old fogeys will do with this stuff, anyway. It's hard, sure, strong too - but what are they gonna do with it?" A young, relatively strong explorer commented to his group of friends, gesturing wildly towards a bundle of iron.
"Perhaps they can melt it down in the forge and do something with the result - At the very least, the islanders will buy it off us."
"Fair enough, though weapons made of this stuff would be quite a sight wouldn't they?"
"They sure would. Armor, too - what stone could break through something like this?"
Wild speculation abounded amongst the explorers, but they soon prepared for rest as another day of hard work approached.

by **G-Tech Corporation** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 9:53 am

Year 335 of the Common Era

A new generation rises to take its place

Shambling Legion: The raid against the settlement of Shoval is a modest success, though a few of the undead that marched in the van fell to shot flung from the city. Still, the Legion returns to Xcotl with two dozen prisoners taken from the city's outskirts, seized with the help of the warriors of their patron city.

The Order of the Bright Flame: Martial training of the warriors of the Order continues apace, men sparring at all hours of the day and developing their formations for use against foes. Though now little better than the stock they were drawn from in the city of their peninsular homeland, their lord can already tell of the improvement of their might at arms. None of the rest of the efforts of the Order, though, bear fruit. Perhaps with more manpower...

Magnum Opus: The School of Sunstrength, as some in the city of the Xcotl name the new discoveries of the Magnum Opus, is soon perfected. Though not yet able to exert their power in the form of aggressive flames, the mages of the Opus have discovered meditations and forms of pose that will, when combined with the right mental discipline, allow one to slowly take in the strength of the very sun itself. This is of limited utility at present, merely giving a sense of wellbeing and being filled with lightness, but promises great discoveries to come.

The Chosen of Neferkara: Traveling over the long leagues to Vallenia to slaughter the sheep of the pasture there, the Chosen raise a host of Undead from the burial grounds of their patrons. A bloody sacrifice, to be sure, and upsetting to many of the common folk of the Republic, but soon a hundred skeletal figures dance at the commands and whims of their masters.

Chrysí Aspída: The camp of the mercenaries, located just south of the walls of the city of Cadmus, is fortified and reinforced mightily over a period of two years. Stakes are emplaced, a wide dry moat cut into the ground, and bushels of barbed arrows cut carefully of bone and flint prepared for any need of the warriors.

by **Novas Arcanum** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 10:29 am

The Magnum Opus

Archmage Severus stood over the massive body of the golem. The Magnum Opus had been hard at work, preparing the ritual to bring life to the golem. The wizards raised their hands and chanted the spell. The captives were sacrificed their life force, and souls to be transferred the earthen bones of the golem. It was a quick and painless death and they were to serve a purpose greater then what they had before. The wizards contiuned to chant their arcane spell using their wisdom and creativity to raise the stone golem to life, to serve the Magnum Opus and the Xcotl.

Action: The Magnum Opus sacrifices the captives to raise a stone golem

by **Revlona** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 10:46 am

City of Lordaeron

“No progress? A whole year and yet no progress?” Lord Savarian Strong said

The leader of the mages nodded his head, “Yes Grandmaster, with more men I could have done better” he said

“That exactly what out recruiters say, and they are trying to get more men” said strong

“I don’t know then grandmaster” The Mage said

Dismissing the made, Strong had thought it through and decided on a course of action.

by **Toaslandia** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 1:18 pm

Apostolos was satisfied with the entrenchments of the camp and was happy that his men had barbed arrows, but decided they could not sit around with the current number of warriors. He turned to a Chrysí and said "You there! Take four men with you and head to Cadmus to recruit more warriors. I care not if they are a man or woman, so long as they are willing to be trained." He then turned to Konstantinos and said "Have the men train until a job comes up as it never hurts to be prepared."

by **Olthenia** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 2:25 pm

The City of Fastaqui
Twenty-First Day of the Arc of Wings
The Fourth Sitting of Ocanda the Just
The Second Age After the Founding

“One bushel. Nothing more. Understand?”

“What? A mere damn bushel?” Hendak was angry. So angry he had to fight to keep his voice from rising. Judging from the look on the barterman’s flat, brown face, he was not succeeding.

The two of them were sitting cross-legged on one of the wide, wooden platforms that spiralled off from the Captain’s Square. All the goods of the great, marshy delta was sold here on market days – from burro-nuts to snakeskin charms, to caged heron-birds and roasted dengu-fish, nice and crisp. Quinoa, too – the lifeblood of the Marsh-City.

There weren’t any burro-nuts to be had today, however - nor heron-birds in their tall cages, and Hendak thought the dengu-fish he saw on a riverman’s spit looked black and paltry indeed.

“But that’s hardly fair!” he groused. “Listen, just last arc I could buy a bushel of quinoa for-“

The barterman wasn’t having it. He cut him off with a flick of his hand, as though waving off a bloodfly. “Last arc was last arc,” he insisted. “Now it is different. Understand?”

Hendak had half a mind to take half a step forwards and growl that no, he did not. Understand? But instead he shook his head and made a soft, urban noise of disgust at the back of his throat - not unlike a camel’s bleat. And fine; he even bought that single, lonely bushel.

Because by the time Hendak’s steps had taken him back from the barterman’s platform and up to the Square of Captains, he could see the right of it. Not just about last arc being last arc, but that other thing the barterman had said. About it being different.

Things were... deteriorating. Every barterman hawking quinoa had armed thugs now, and every fish-waif offering her catch for barter a burly husband. Because the jetties, platforms and landings of great, marshy Fastaqui were becoming ever more crowded. When a mother had more children than she could feed, that mother either sold them or gave them to relatives. Yet what could a city do, when those children were her own people? Ache, that's what. And clutch hungry bellies.

Hendak had seen it in the sad, black eyes of the children crowding Mudmen’s Jetty earlier that week. They’d crow at you like birds if they thought you had food, and Hendak had even seen them moan a song for a cup of bogu – the thick, piping-hot quinoa soup so favoured by all those that worked the Skazahad. No beggars had crowed as Hendak made his way up today, though. Instead they’d merely sat there, squatting by the muddy pilings – lean with hunger.

Famine. The dread of every man and every mother alike. Things weren't quite that bad in the city yet, he told himself. Vast fields of pale quinoa still waved at the great, blue sky up and down the Skazahad's western banks. Bushels were still sold on the platforms by the Square of Captains, and the jetties by the Mudman's Way had never been more crowded with all manner of fishing rafts. It was ugly, of course – the way all shortages were. But, by the Word, Hendak knew he’d persevere.

As would the rest of Fastaqui.

by **Kelmet** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 3:09 pm

The Kingdom of Lordaeron

Year twelve of the Reign of King Varian Menethil

At long last the city was growing as the people grew in number. As their numbers grew King Menethil and the council of lords could finally lay the groundwork of a full time professional military because only in safety could the people of the light truly prosper.

Economically the construction of mines in both the capital of Stormwind and the northern settlement of Brewnwall ensured a strong industry at the culmination of these congress projects as they could then harvest that ore and process into what ever the Kingdom may need. Everything from iron tools to weapons and armor. And in Brewnwall, the raw ore could be traded to Allies and other city states for processing in their homelands.

The Archbishop and several of the most skilled artisans brought plans of a grand project for the city. A great Cathedral of Light to be the beating heart of the faith. Much work needed to be done and researched for such a protect to come to fruition however, but the seeds were planted.

Assignments.

by **Saxony-Brandenburg** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 3:16 pm

The Honori People

The night was cool and comforting to the men and women of house D'aslant and house T'cal. The gentle breeze of the desert midnight winds nipped at their nerves and, gradually, massaged the tension between the two masses of fanatically independent and clannish people. The two oldest women of the groups, the High Judge Homa D'aslant, and the Custodian Priestess Yuki T'cal, moved their way across the field and face-to-face with each other. Their families had been feuding for years, decades even, over petty, and well buried issues at this point, and through obstinateness, stubbornness, and sheer mutual hatred, they had finally seen eye to eye. Although not always followed, as family feuds were immense conflicts in the social structure in Honori society, whenever they were healed they were often to be healed with the upmost bonds, as to cement the unity within the society. The two old women exchanged gifts to begin with, valuable ones to that extent- with a knife of obsidian from the north being exchanged for a prized red camel, and both sides seemed content with the other's gift. They smiled to each other, and embraced, kissing each other on the cheek twice, and uttering a few words of thanks. The two approached the silent fire pit dug in the center of the field, and motioned for an Aslant man to bring them his torch. The T'cal Elder thanked him, and, dramatically, lit the parched wood before them, casting it's warm glow across the faces of all in attendance. Some cheered, some clapped, others banged drums and banged instruments in celebration. The elder Aslant motioned for them to fall silent, and, smiling, spoke unto them:

"As ancient feuds, that, smeared red with blood, dry upon the stones of the earth- we look into ourselves and ask, 'Hark, why has this come to be?' We ask ourselves, 'Was the blood of our children, worth that of that began this struggle?' We ask ourselves, 'Should the daughter be forced to bear the burdens of her mother? And what of the son?' No, no he should not. Under the will of the gods do we assemble here then, to right the wrongs of yester year, not simply to to forgive, but to reconcile. Not to forget, but to understand. Not only to console, but to bond."

The Elder T'cal spoke up.

"It is the most sacred thing, the union between a woman and a man. And the sometimes fleeting love of childhood is most sacred. Oh with what passion, care, and innocence does the naive bring with to a union, and the tenderness of their heart can only bring a smile to an old woman's face."

Then Homa.

"Therefore, let it be that we two families come together tonight in celebration of this joyous occasion, and pray to the gods that from this open wound- new blood of healing may flush through it, and grow a new leaf, may create new reasons for us to come together, for ever more. Love. The strongest bonds known to mankind."

"Bless us be."

"Bless us be."

And with that, the two older women retreated to a few crude chairs that was laid out among the various parents and wedded members of their families, and with laughter beckoned for their children to go forth up to the fire. Several men began to slowly bang the drum, and clack that ever-present simple wooden instrument known to the Honori. There were two young adults who immediately broke the still between them, and ran to embrace each other in the middle of the field. They were the start of all this, and, amazingly, their love was the seed for the reconciliation of an age-old dispute. The stars seemed to glow just a touch lighter then, and the young couple wept with joy in each other's arms. Then, slowly, the two sides began to meet them, and intermix into one large crowd. A reed pipe began to softly play, and the young couple began to gently sway, no lust found in their hearts, only the care of immense relief. Immense joy. They looked up at each other, and with wet eyes, kissed each other's lips, and began to slowly dance. Soon, the young men and women of house T'cal and house D'aslant split off into pairs, two boys here, a boy and a girl who fancied each other there, two young girls gossiping by the fire, and the music slowly quickened, into a faster beat, until it was quick enough for joy to overtake their motions. Claps, stomps, bells and whistles began to join the chorus, and soon a mad frenzy of joy surrounded the fire, all the time keeping to the rhythm. The songs of long by gone eras were cried out with over a hundred voices, and with the resounding passion of ten fold that number. Some girls managed to impress the boys enough for a quick kiss, and some boys managed to aswell. And as the dancing and mixing went on throughout the night, the two families would begin to be intertwined in budding young romance. The gods above, should they be truly there, would surely look down upon this night with a warm stirring of the heart. And some, in the dark shadows of the fire, could have sworn to have seen uncorporal, misty figures dancing alongside them, in the night air.

The Division of Labor

by **Holy Tedalonia** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 3:32 pm

The Imperial Republic of Saladonia
The City of Salli

The Lord-Imperator sat in his office, thinking about how he’d make amends to the people of Vallenia. It was neccessary, he thought, it had to be done. Regardless those who resent the government would never be appeased, thus he had to ensure anger does not turn to resentment. He shifts his eyes to the messenger who was waiting attentively next to him.

“What are you standing there for,” shouted Tibus, “go out and tell the priesthood that they are to repay the Vallenian men their sheep! If they have a problem with it they can come to me.”

The messenger rushes out running. The drakeling on the window sill, who had been disturbed by the sudden noise wakes up from its comforting nap, lifting its head and look around. Certainly that would redeem the republic and the Chosen priesthood reputation in Vallenia, Tibus thought, that or nothing else would... “wait a second, lad,” spoke Tibus. The messenger stops, halfway out the door and peers back, “bring the priest to me. I rather speak about this privately with him. Now go, don’t keep the man waiting.”

The Imperator while a firm supporter for the Chosen hadn’t liked that they had to use the sheep, but regardless it had to be done, otherwise there would be no result in the past two years. The clan leaders who were enticed into a fervent glory, questioned the Chosen, not to the Chosen’s face, no rather their benefactor, Tibus Rylander. “You allowed them to slay Saeling sheep,” they had cried, “good Saeling men lived off of those sheep.”

The Lord-Imperator had to wait patiently for results, and results he intended to get.

by **The Empire of Tau** » Tue Dec 11, 2018 7:53 pm

Shambling Legion of Ulm Bahadur
Year 335 of the Common Era

Two-dozen captives...not what Bahadur would call a good hunt, but it was something. A few lost undead, nothing bad, easy to replace. Returning back to Xcotl, Bahadur returned the captives and heard news that the captives will be used for sacrifice in a attempt to rise golems. Interested, Kadan Ulm Bahadur sought to aid their attempt - hoping to learn of this new magical arcana.

Arriving at the site, Kadan Ulm Bahadur, along with his dark-mages, analyzed the scene. Hhm, they were doing a soul transfer as evidenced by their chosen ritual circle, chat, the captives, and the material that was being used as the vessel (the rocks). Soul transfers was nothing new, but it’s not a easy thing to do (given the scenario right now). Twenty-four souls was a hefty amount to handle. Getting the souls into the rock and not losing said souls to the void is already a troublesome thing, but trying to stabilize the souls within the rock shall be harder.

Without wasting much more time, Bahadur and his few selected mages aid the Magnus Mages in the soul transfer ordeal.

The Ascent of Man [IC|Closed]

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