GrimBeard
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Posts posted by GrimBeard
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A summer to shake the foundations of the Ynnish Realms. Just when the Corrector thought he had the situation under control, a bold stroke of history plays out behind his back. To think the non Ilesian conquerors stole a Relic from under the noses of the Ka'Gorans and Freeholders. To this day scholars debate how many were lost that day, while others argue Dahc won the victory himself.
-Continued excerpts from Legends and Facts of the Third Age
Word travels fast of destruction in the Amichai Kingdom. Having heard reports of the violence and subjugation along their portion of the Ynn, the Ka'Goran have begun to stir. Though they are a pacifist folk, they were not without their tools of defense. For centuries they have collected and stored Relics, and other marvels. In times of strife such as these, the fabled but mysterious Collector is dispatched from the Confederation. All that's known is the position shifts between the Confederated Tribes, and the wielder holds immense power. In their arrogance the Amichai put up a fight, and their army was crushed. In a remarkable deal, order has been restored to their hold on new settlements, with strict laws enacted anywhere Gorans live and trade along the northern Ynn. The Collector now free to act, he begins to look into the very troubling reports about these 'Pilgrims'.......
The Knights of Ildan have become locked in a desperate struggle against Flastavio's Flock. Their smaller host utilizes their natural defenses, as they engage the raiders all along the river. True to their calling however, a part of Knights are dispatched south, their mission unknown.
The Zorncost and Akim Freeholder trade competition is momentarily stunned into irrelevance, as word of the world pours in. To their west, north, and south, "barbarian" nomads have been running amok. Refugees with tails of death and subjugation pour into the strong northern Realm. Zorncostan Parliament and King issue a decree to all Realms along the Ynn, offering a central location to host ambassadors. The issue of these numerous Hordes must be addressed, lest every Realm suffer these upstarts.
Angered at the Knights sent to the Black Army, the Kingdom of Camadacia officially condemns the Kingdom of Hausenberg. Another step up in their increasing race for power and influence. Word of a Camadacian host crossing into Black Army lands spreads, the numbers unknown....
House of Vrizia
At long last the Knights and petty lords of Roland's travelling realm have been given the opportunity of their own land. Roland's warband eagerly settle, with very little words of complaint. Though the realm is founded, it perhaps is birthed under the signs of ill omen. Many of their brothers lay dead at the gates of Tamerick, and the crimson blood of Adon's Comet suffuses the very sky as they start building their holdfasts.
The trio of villages have no answer to the armored might of Vrizian cavalry. Though the first town puts up a fight, they are swiftly dispatched, the survivors ridden down. Unable to even flee ahead of the light cavalry, all the villages submit one after the other. Though victory came easily, word of Roland's continues aggression is travelling up and down the Ynn. Already diplomats arrive to this new Realm, with letters of complaint. -1 Knight, 5 Light Cavalry
The Dominate of Ayan Rus
The men, unceremoniously dropped off on the shores by Cayens, well away from Bak-nari patrols, managed to carry with them a blow gun and a bushel of darts. However their journey up the river, filled with Bak-nari outposts and waystations, has been a deadly game of cat and mouse. It seems something had alarmed the Bak-nari in the spring-summer, and their patrols had increased. After several weeks twenty survivors stumble onto the banks, poison and it's weapon in hand.
Though dismal in amount of funding, it's the start of what could be a true ring of outposts for the Dominate. For now they can cover a few cheap towers at strategic points, though here the fog partially acts against them. As at it's pinnacle the fickle weather can sometimes obscure the river.
League of Serra
The Black Stripes men make their way into the Syndicate, easily aided by the Don's experienced smugglers. Over the summer months they begin to legally establish themselves, careful to avoid the ever present Syndicate eyes. This process takes them the entire summer, trying to plant roots in a foreign land.
In quite a shocking act, the village just north of Serran lands agrees to join. Most settlements in Camadacia were fiercely independent, or influenced by every Realm around them. This village recently has been suffering harsh rule under the local Town. This Town now turns its ire to Serra, stealing their small jewel. A raid hits the village weeks after they joined, ruining their harvest. -3 F
Spirit Seekers
The Seekers using their holy relic easily find the best pass through the mountains, making good time. (+1 Caravan Speed Summer Months) Even so their enthusiastic army soon outpaces the slower heart of the Seeker's tribe. The outriders and scouts reach the very edge of Ilesia, as the summer draws to a close. On the last mountain, standing solitary away from the range, lays a wide and beaten path far up into the peaks.....
As they rejoice at having been guided to a possible Holy Site, fear is mixed in. The strung out caravan is falling prey to feral Gorans, distant kin to their own Race. This far into the wastes few others had the skills and body to survive. These feral Gorans, who refer to themselves as Ta'Gorans, are primitive, but extremely effective in using the wastes to their advantage. The closer they are to the last mountain, the more the Tribes seem to be present. Amidst all this chaos, raiding, and excitement for relics, it's understandable change was coming rapidly. Some Ta'Goran chiefs even demand to see the Spirit Seekers leader and rumored Wastes hermit. It would seem these greedy Gorans were eager to use any resource that stumbles into the wastes.... -50 Light Infantry, 200 C
Diushi Clans
And so the siege begins, and ends! Over the course of summer the cunning Clans prepare for a storm of the walls. They are uncertain if the Villages call for help was answered, but no sign of enemies in the distance happens over the summer. In a climactic conclusion, the Clan leaders lead their companies over the walls with ladders, slaughtering the guardsmen. As the Diushi move into the village, who submit at long last, outriders come racing back. With the first days of Spring arrived, so too does an expeditionary force from the Grosslich Reich. It would seem they had answered the call to arms, probably in a move to shame the River Kings, and exert their influence in the nearby Towns. Whatever the reason, a host is now bearing down on the Diushi, who are gorging themselves on the Villages spoils. +5 F, + 1,500 C/-25 Medium Infantry, -75 Light Infantry, -25 Light Archers. -2 B for siege materials.
Pilgrim Church
Smug rumors abound of a Priest kissing the Amichai Chief of Chief's ring. -1 Prestige
The Village meekly submits to the Churchmen, having already been reached by apostles of the creed. They seem to be in line with the radical escapee priest, whos journey from Ill Horde slavery to enlightenment is retold with eagerness to the outriders.
Lantan Realm
It seems an armed presence has deterred raids over the summer. The harvest is good, the land peaceful.
Herzogtum Greifenburg
King Alberts journey continues, where he reaches a much colder welcome at the Town and nearby village. It would seem the Rurviche held a much tighter grip here. Armed thugs refused the King himself entrance at the gates, stating a land thief had no rights to enter friends of the Syndicate's home. They says this with fear in their eyes, as if they have no choice.
As if to emphasize this point, a gang of street toughs in the recently acquired village make a hit. A local constable is killed and hung as he collects taxes, a clear message. Though of course the Rurviche arrange it so that their hands are clean, but their influence is known. -100 C, -1 Medium Infantry
The Pilgrim Legion
The Village submits, though rumors of Ka'Gorans and their actions against the Amichai are on everyone's mind.
Word comes back of the Ill Horde raiding the edges of their outriders and caravans again. Slaves are taken, and others escape. It would seem the fast horde quickly used up their slaves, and had an aloof attitude to handling them. Some days they would ride escapees down as a game, others they let walk. -3 Light Cavalry
THE CACIQUEDOM OF CANEY
The raiders encounter a Bak-nari patrol unit, having been alerted of raids the past spring. They intercept the raiders on their way, chasing them off with light casualties on both sides. It was clear the Bak-nari navy was forming a network of routes to deter raiding, as their war fleet is rumored to be growing in the capital.
The two villages are found mostly empty of fighting men, and submit to Caneyan rule. It would seem Chief Big Shitta, realizing the unlikely odds of a second victory in the field, had gone to ground. His legend is growing, as more and more tribals flock to his banner.
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11 hours ago, thesmellypocket said:
Discord Name (If I don't already have it): TotusTuusEgoSum #3901
Nation Name: The Philosophate of Arbina
Nation Government/Leader Rank: Oligarchy/the Philosopher.
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
The Philosophate is the last remnant of antiquity, a state that before the Great Comet was famed for commerce and learning. Arbina was styled Queen of Cities. Now graze the sheep below the triumphal arches where once victorious horsemen did ride. Nevertheless, a small number of enthusiasts - or fanatics - keep alive the old flame of the great philosophical state and its old glories admidst the ruins.
The Philosophate is a strictly hierarchical society governed by several schools which disagree with each other on fundamental issues. In this, however, they agree and bind themselves: that there be the One, and no other, viz. they reject polytheism, that the pursuit of wisdom and virtue are the highest goods, and that life ought to be governed by the strictest adherance to civic virtue.
They trace these ideals to the universally venerated Gaius Mato, usually called Mato Maximus. He was put to death for turning the City away from the old gods and laying down the principles of the ideal philosophical state. His idea was of a City-State governed by a Philosopher class. Mato in death had the ultimate victory: his disciples seized control of the City and it has been governed according to his principles since.
The Comet saw the Queen of Cities disrobed of her regal glory. But in the depths of despair arose a new leader, Numerius Didius Severus, who intepreted events as providential. Surely the One was displeased at how the Philosophers had grown fat and degenerate? Surely this trial needs must come? For a lesser man might have seen death only in the Comet. But Severus perceived that new life might emerge. He gathered together the remnants of the noble families. The young Philosophers must now live a semi monastic life and keep the flame of learning alive.
Every since Severus, the Philosophate has remained steady, although a figment of a shadow of her former glory. Her goal, thus far, has been merely survival and preservation. But is there something more?
Notable Characters; [VERY Important to have flushed out RP for vassals, politicians, w.e your government type is. Due to small scale of nations, characters with RP and Lore behind them will have much more impactful actions, will get events, boons, etc:
Gaius Didius Severus: the chief Philosopher of the state. He is of the so called "Trairius" school. This school believes in strict, hereditary hierarchy, time honoured ritual, and is generally opposed to expansion and the idea of a standing army. They believe that a moral life necessitates nullifying passions and emotions that reason might rule. They also uphold slavery, teaching it to be part of the divinely constituted order of the universe. This makes him popular among the "craftsman" and "soldier" classes.
A direct descendant of the elder Severus, he is an idealistic and rather gallant young man who believes in old ideals. Although personally brave, showing signs of being a good general and a clear thinker, he lacks political nouse. Ironically for his position, he often invests emotion in his arguments and places his own sentiments always before political expedience.
Appius Sempronius Claudius: Severus' main political, personal and intellectual rival. He is head of the "Honorific" school, which is more meritocratic, democratic and expansionist in its outlook. It believes in expanding Philosophate rule and even opposes slavery outright. Unlike their main rivals, it believes emotions and passions are good if ordered according to reason.
Claudius is quite similar to Severus, which makes their rivalry even more intense. They do agree, however, on the importance of civic virtue and are often able to put aside their differences. Claudius is a gifted orator, a spirited man popular among his own class, and, it is said, the slave class.
Titus Aemilius Antoninus: head of the third main school, the Custodians. The Custodian school is one of moderation and expedience. "Prudence is charity finding a way", said one of its key proponents. For example, Custodian orators have always defended the rights and conditions of slaves when attacked and deprived, but never attacked the institution itself.
Antoninus is a veteran politician standing between the two rivals, and who acts as a moderating force. An affable and gentle man, he is a rather dull orator and poor soldier, but is surprisingly popular and almost venerated as a kind of grandfather of the nation.
Unique Military Units (One):
Philosopher Heavy Spearmen: being drawn from the sons of the highest caste of society, these men are considered one of the elite infantry units of the world. They are given training from the youngest age and buy themselves the finest money can buy. However, drawing from but one class, their manpower pool is extremely limited, and a military disaster could wipe out the flower of the nation on a single day. In olden times they were hoplites; with the development of armour they have become foot knights armed with halberds, poleaxes and other heavy polearms.
It is important to mention that the Arbinans have no standing army. Rather, a well motivated milita is drawn up from all classes of society. Much of the militia use out dated weaponry.
National Idea (nothing strictly mechanical): Civic Virtue: liars are utterly despised in society, and integrity upheld at every moment. Typically, an Arbinan would rather suffer death than contaminate his hand with a bribe, or break his Oath. This makes for a place where crime is remarkably low and whilst the Arbinians are utterly incapable of intrigue, so also do they appear to be immune thereto.
Player POI: a small city next to a medium sized river, centered on the ruins of a sprawling metropolis, surrounded by grassy plains.
Accepted!
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Adon’s comet continues its inevitable course across the sky, turning the heavens the color of a bleeding wound. Below the comet things are not much better, as Settlements everywhere begin to realize this new age seems no better than the last…..
-Continued excerpts from Legends and Facts of the Third Age
AMBIANCE FROM THE FIRST AGE [<- Click here]
Cogs stream up the mighty Ynn, their eventual destination the Ka’Goran Trade Confederation. Though no [players] seem interested, dozens of petty lords know opportunity when they see it. After the auctions however, the borders are shut down. It would seem a CORRECTOR is being summoned, to address the woe befalling their pocket of northern paradise. Akim’s Freehold emerges the victor of the auction, taking their unknown Relic downriver towards home.
The Kingdom of Lanta and Knights of Ildan experience grief, as a local warband [yellowish circle] raids both their lands. Darting in and out to hamper villages, and fisherman in Ildan’s case, they steal off with loot and women. It’s soon learned this warband goes by the name of “Flastavio’s Flock” A ruthless band of hedge knights, ronin, dispossessed lords, mercenaries, and other outcasts, following an immensely charismatic chieftain. -2 F, 200 C for both nations
The Kingdom of Zorncost slowly emerges from their Spring council, building the foundations of their Realm. In a very rare form of government, King Dagmand Tus is constitutionally imbued as Zorncost’s head of state. This government follows the ideals of the 2nd age, and more recently, of the Lantan Monarchy, and Lenan Republic. Zorncost patrols are soon seen all over the river, and nearby holds, as they engage in a growing trade competition with Akim’s Freehold.
The Ill Horde, smelling blood in the water, raids across the mighty Ynn. They seize multiple foreign cogs in a daring act. The Complacent merchants are not used to such violence here. The Lenan Republic and Petty Kingdom of Tear are hit especially hard, the cream of their armies being away in the field. -500 C, 2 F for Lenan Republic
Rumors reach the various nations within the Camadacian region. Two mysterious hordes are slowly marching on the fertile lands, growing every day. Little is known of them besides their inevitable path.
Volunteers from Hausenberg flock to the Northern Black Camadacian cause, if they choose to accept them. By and large young second sons and rich merchants, seeking adventure against their Kingdom’s greatest rival. +25 Heavy Cavalry if accepted.
Across the oceanic coasts strange rumors and tales of seamen being dragged off to captivity by pale men spread. They are quickly discounted, and it’s acknowledged the rumors were sprung from the Bak-nari slaving ships.
The northern city state boldly claiming the name Ilesia announces their vassalization of the recently formed Toran Shire. This single village has been growing a considerable influence, mostly thanks to the rich City funding them. The ties are formalized this year, the City State growing into a proper northern trade power…….
Kingdom of Albarias
Sebastian and his retinue encounter an overtly hostile Adonian reclamation mission. As the two hosts meet in the foothills of the Albarian mountains, battle is about to commence…..
A circular disk flies into the sky, and from it emits the light of god himself. The two armies are locked within a searing grid pattern of pure white light. Any who touch it are burned, and it seems the Adonians have made their message clear. They would fight and die at all cost for whatever they are heading too, and now, Sebastian must do the same.
There’s no time to see if the Village will join this Spring, as Sebastian and his host find themselves engaged.
The Pilgrim Church/Legion
In perhaps a move of over zealotry, the first Village to be approached spits in the Pilgrim’s faces, and is razed for their troubles. The zealots take it a step too far however, burning and killing the entire Village and Populace in an act of faith, securing nothing of value.
Hearing word of the grim fate befalling the 1st, the next 3 villages on their path submit without complaint. However as soon as the Host marches, problems arise. Saboteurs have been tampering with food, the wagons, and the Host as a whole. It would seem these villages were far from integrated, and after having blended in with the Pilgrim masses, formed a resistance. -3 Food, 500 C
The final two villages refuse to submit, having already lent their Oaths to the Amichai, who are similarly harvesting the Ynnish villages. The two hosts face off, neither having time to make a move, as Spring draws to a close. The first scouts to reach the village had all been immolated with fire balls flying through the sky. The superstitious pilgrims whisper that the Amichai have God's wrath on their side. -25 Light Cavalry
The Ill Horde splinter group parallels this advance, eating up villages on their side of Ynn. A man within the Pilgrim cult has been gathering a following to him, after his brave tale. He claims to have escaped the Ill Horde slavery, stating the other scouts with him this Spring were taken too far away to rescue with him. He preaches an entirely new radical tenant of the Church, demanding they exploit and learn the mysteries of God himself in all his ways. The cult is growing around him, hiding him as he moves from caravan to caravan, preaching his tenets.
The Spirit Seekers
The hermit preaching southern expansion disappears, while the victorious one sticks with the tribe as they advance, smug. For now scouts yield no results of Relics or Knowledge, perhaps too far south.
The Spirit Seekers successfully capture the first two villages with no issue in face of their overwhelming numbers. However problems soon begin to proliferate with this new blood. Throats are found slit, food ruined, gold stolen. -3 F, 500 C
The remaining two villages are found completely empty, scouts reporting their entire populaces have begun to flee to the City nearby, to ask for safety. They have not yet arrived, fleeing before the Seekers advance. Perhaps one choosing to pursue can catch them before they arrive at the City during the summer, at the risk of going off the path seeking knowledge.
Herzogtum Greifenburg
The Village Herr Albert visits is ecstatic to have an actual Monarch visit them. For countless decades this village has lived a quiet life under the covert auspices of the Rurviche Syndicate. However that is forgotten in the village's fervor, as they pledge to join Albert’s Kingdom, provided they’re allowed the full rights of citizens in the Realm. A village gained if Albert wants it, perhaps at the cost of angering the Syndicate…..
The Diushi Clans
Hong Taos expedition in the wastes succeeds with flying colors, the roughshod wastelander village eager to follow him and his promises of a verdant promised land.
Hai Yun’s march goes remarkably less well, as Village militia harry his advance at every turn. After a short clash, the first Village falls to the horde. But the second, encased in a wooden palisade, holds out as Spring draws to a close, sending pleas for aid far and wide… -100 Light Infantry
THE RIVER-KINGS OF KORYNN
The 2 villages and Town happily accept Korynn's gift, alongside that of Zorncost, and the Grosslich Reich. They accept none of the pledges for protection however, clearly enjoying playing the three powers off each other. A small amount of overland trade begins however, the seed of something more? +150 C
A grand scheme indeed, few petty Kingdom’s were capable of engineering feats this large. However the confident engineers begin to gather materials, and survey the land. The canal seems possible, but will be a steep price in both labor and resources.
After a brief field battle, the two villages town guard is smashed, the settlements submitting. This has caught the eye of local powers however, and the Korynn note a marked increase of Zorncost patrols in the other independent settlements. -50 Light 1 hand, -50 Light Spears, -10 Archers
And so the Korynn and Osberht head to THE NESTS…..
NORTH CAMADACIAN BLACK ARMY
And so the first clash between Camadacian brothers transpires, beneath the blood red gaze of Adon’s Comet. A light rain falls, as the heavens weep to see the promised land of Ilesia soaked in blood. The bold General Grempesh was not expecting such full retaliation, having been playing a game of careful raids himself. The Camadacian millita clash with Grempeshs’s famed Black Winged mercenaries. A band loyal to the general, and ruthless in their raids. They earn their name by their cloaks, flayed skin from captured commune militia. An oversight the wounded pride of the Camadacian King allows, as the Black Wings get results.
The ensuing conflict is small regardless, Grempesh sent tail betwixt his leg back over the border. None had expected such a swift and total response. No raids happen this year, though rumors of a proper Camadacian host being raised spread far and wide. +1 prestige for Officer leading. -10 archers, 5 militia, 5 cavalry
The cash goes a very small way to restoring this archaic and complex undercroft. But it goes a long way with the refugees, ensuring they feel safe, are cared for, and warm. Refugees eager to explore, having no worries of shelter and food, find a small stockpile of scrap leftover from the second age. +1 M
The Dominate of Ayan Rus
The letter reaches the Adonians, but no reply is given. -15 C
The expedition sent north travels for perhaps a few days, when they get the sense of being stalked. No sooner then did they show alertness, then Bak-nari women descended on all sides. Blow darts volley into the men, paralyzing them. Women clad in tropical animal skins and little else close the gap, fighting with fearsome clubs wrapped in layers of a shiny black stone, that cuts with the edge of a razor.
Only 10 spearmen and 3 archers make it back alive. With grim reports of the rest dead, or being dragged off to captivity, paralyzed. It would seem the island is surrounded, the fell mists warding off raids on the island for now. Surveyors are seen again, this time with cloth around their mouths. It would seem they were learning, and studiously recording the effects on what seems to be human hide.
League of Serra
Some perhaps whisper the aging Don was losing his grip on things in his elderly years. But the actions of the Black Stripes and his orders galvanizing them disproves that. In a bold action they raid the warehouse the Capo is alleged to be at, easily dispatching his armed guard. Having perhaps expected it however, he narrowly avoids their grasp, fleeing to the Rurviche Syndicate with whatever knowledge he seems to hold.
Republic of LenaThe northern village accepts the Lenan proposition, terrified of the numerous warbands. When Vrizians, Flastavio’s Flock, and the Ill Horde roamed the land, it was more than enough reason to enter the rich Republic. Provided they get the full rights of any Lenan citizen of course, and the Village aldermen is allowed onto the lower council.
Ambrosian Republic of Vudoa
A brief skirmish ensues, as the villagers refuse to enter this ambitious Republic who asks with an army at their back. What happens next is an astonishing testament to Ambrosian administration. All the dissidents are purged, and their plan of resettlement and occupation is executed flawlessly. A now loyal and eager village joins the fold! -25 cavalry
THE CACIQUEDOM OF CANEY
The raid goes remarkably well, the majority of Bak-nari ships seemingly away. The village raided is full of women in strange garb, with pens full of cayen, and Dominate men. Rescuing them, they also gain 3k C, 5 F, 2 M. The dominate troops request passage home, though rumors abound of a Bak-nari fleet in the Stygoi river.
In a rather embarrassing display of martial power, the two villages band together, and defeat the Caneyan army. After bleeding them for leagues of land, the joint villager force hits the leaderless light infantry host so hard they shatter, running for home. The villagers are led by a man growing in fame; Chief Big Shitta -150 Lights
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15 hours ago, hellfiazz said:
Discord Name (If I don't already have it):
womp womp
Nation Name
The River-Kings of Korynn
Nation Government/Leader Rank:
Tribal Kingdom Confederation
Multiple tribes led by chiefs called ‘Ynnkhard’ (lit. the river-blooded)
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
The Ynn - the sire to innumerable peoples, lifeblood of Illesian commerce, and the most heavily trafficked thoroughfare on the continent, perhaps. This beating heart of the region beats harder still in the chests of those that have named it so, the tribes of Korynn. Making their home in the dense waterways of the Korynn river’s eastern sources, the societies, histories, and lives of these waterborne warriors are completely entwined with the Ynn.
Among all tribes is a shared and deep affinity with the river, both materially and spiritually. The Korynnar spend most of their lives on or in the water, and dream of little else for their afterlife than a complete reunion with it. The Ynn, the Korynnar, and their ancestors are one and the same for the River-Kings, the river becoming both the object of worship for and spiritual essence of all Korynnar. This particular cultural quirk leads them to great disdain among the tribes for foreigners they believe sully the Ynn, and their forebears’ names with it.
The tribes themselves are micro-kingdoms, led by what the Korynnar title Ynnkhard - analogous to chieftains - who claim their position by martial contests of leadership. Only those who can boast a fluvial fleet of their own are worthy to summon a tribe’s elders and issue the challenge to these contests. While they share a common name - Agnynn’kai - throughout the Korynn river kingdoms, the form of the contest varies from tribe to tribe.
For the Nad’ynnar, a powerful tribe centred at the confluence of the area’s rivers, the Agnynn’kai takes the form of naval wargames, with the challenger’s and their allies’ canoes and longships engaging in ritualistic combat with those of the current Ynnkhard. For the Ynnleukar, in the eastern highlands, it is a race through treacherous white water rapids. Elsewhere, it is a melee duel upon the river, with tied platforms of canoes and longships assembled into a floating arena, cheered on by the whole tribe from the riverside, as is the case of the southern Mey’ynnar. Others still have their own traditions, but in all cases, an Agnynn’kai is fought and won upon the Ynn.
It is largely through these contests that the Korynnar tribes came to consolidate into their current constitution, rather than conquest. Many a time in the recent centuries did ambitious and proud Ynnkhardar quarrell and risk their whole domain in particularly high-stakes Agnynn’kai, the defeated’s tribe suddenly being subsumed into that of the winner’s as they became leaders of both. This practice has for some time now been extinct, ever since the rise of the numerous hordes and feudal kingdoms around the northern Ynn drove them into forming a confederation. While each Ynnkhard’s river-kingdom is their own domain, by blood-bonded oaths of peace and mutual defence the Korynnar are now bound to a shared fate upon the waters.
This state of affairs has lasted, owed to their newfound harmony allowing the River-Kings to develop their people’s natural skill as traders into unprecedented prosperity among the tribes. What were once humble villages have grown into bustling hubs of commerce and transport as goods and people flow along the northern Korynn under shared peace and protection. Populations have exploded, the fleets of the Ynnkhardar with them, bringing this tribal confederation up to being a contender for supremacy of the great river’s westernmost tributary. Their ferocity and ability upon the Ynn is renowned, and as yet their position has yet to be threatened.However, no state of affairs is permanent. The River-Kings are very much among the latecomers to being able to exert themselves beyond petty tribal squabbles, and are backwards even for the Illesian Third Age. The Ynnkhardar’s unity has drawn prying eyes toward Korynn, full of both eagerness to exploit its new prosperity, or ire for the nascent savages that they must now compete with. In either case, the Third Age heralds a great change for the Korynnar - whether they will be washed away beneath foreign invaders, or ride the tide of greatness and dominate the Ynn, the River-Kings will see great transformation. One certainty, though, is that their destiny lies with the Ynn.
Notable Characters:
Malakynn, Ynnkhard of the Nad’ynnar [1]
The River-King of the largest of Korynn’s tribes is an imposing and grotesquely scarred fisherman, but Malakynn is nonetheless seen with fondness across the riverways. His relatively lowly origins are somewhat unusual, with Ynnkhardar of the Nad’ynnar traditionally having coming from among the warriors of the tribe. None doubt Malakynn’s legitimacy, however, after he led a fleet of simple fishing canoes to victory against his predecessor’s warfleet. Between his martial prowess being more than proven, his indefatigable joviality, and the fair and wise rule he has since provided to the Nad’ynnar, their Ynnkhard is one of the most respected of the Korynnar.Rynnrhada, Ynnkharda of the Ynnleukar [1]
River-Queens are not particularly rare among the Korynnar, but ones with the deftness on the water of the current sole Ynnkharda certainly are. None are faster or more agile in a canoe than Rynnrhada, a fact she is quite openly proud of. Though her skill with handling the rushing white water of her home is unparalleled, the River-Queen of the Ynnleukar is more known for her equally fast-running blood and her unfortunate visage, being a particularly rash, defensive, and boastful leader. Despite, or because, of this, Rynnrhada is rarely disrespected or trifled with.Krynnion, Ynnkhard of the Trynn’halar [10]
A charming though reserved man while he takes court upon his legendary floating fort, Krynnion is a nigh-monstrously ferocious warrior when battling on the banks of the Korynn. He is a relatively aged Ynnkhard for the Trynn’halar, as their Agnynn’kai are especially brutal and physically taxing, leading to rapid regime change as their River-Kings grow older. However, even the most boisterous and proud of the Trynn’halar youth have rarely issued the challenge, with the many examples of his foes’ grisly demise being the likely cause.
Unique Military Units:Trynn’torakhar
The Trynn’halar are renowned among the Korynnar for their expertise in engineering and construction, displayed elegantly in the form of the Ynnfort. However, the roots of this culture lie in their history of irrigation and mound-building around the river, and it is out of this that the Trynn’torakhar also came to be.
They are adept at rapidly digging out trenches and creating embankments for fortification, especially on river banks, as well as creating diversions of the water for the same purpose. They are equally skilled at constructing bridges and dams, not just (semi-)permanent structures, but also temporary barriers / crossings for troops by using rope and hooks to bind and secure canoes and longships. They are also proficient at getting such ships on and off land, and transporting them over it in the few cases it is necessary.
[Light Infantry capable of the above, probably would have a metal and increased gold cost]
National Idea:Waterborne Society
- Unable to recruit cavalry
- All ships come with 50/50 Medium Infantry / Medium Archer crew
Player POI:
The Ynnfort
Essentially a very large and tall longship that is closer to a cog, the Ynnfort is a floating, river-going fort. Boasting an enormous crew for a fluvial ship, the Ynnfort is filled to the mast with archers who lay down continuous fire from above at other ships or the riverside, and marines ready and able to defend it or attack from it with ease. The vessel also has a large ramp partway up its side, and a great many men with grappling hooks, which enables it to easily land troops and anchor itself on the bank.At the very peak of its construction is a lone position for a strange, elongated and polished stick that spews metal to a great distance, the wielder of which is an inherited and incredibly prestigious role that is attained through years of apprenticeship. Considered a gift from the Ynn, the stick is used to precisely target the gravest of threats at range, but is hardly capable of damaging structures or ships bigger than a canoe.
14 hours ago, Sovereign_of_Solaris said:
Nation Name: Diushi (The Lost)Nation Government/Leader Rank: Tribal Chiefdom, High Chief Hóng Tāo
The Collection of Clan-like Warbands forms a small council with each warband leader filling a seat as a chief, with Hong Tao as its de-facto leader and ruler.Description of National/Provincial History & Culture: The Diushi's history is wrought with death and murder but not all at their own hands, these people, or the Lost as some have called them are groups of criminals and exiles or even refugees from the warring kingdoms of the more fertile middle lands. As with many groups in the wasteland not all share a direct ethnicity or culture, the same is for the Diushi many in its ranks come from across the wastelands. If there is a common culture its a hatred for the Middle Kingdoms, a love for coin and a hope for a better life. Raiding is a core part of the Diushi's means of survival but many others partake in other simpler forms of living such as herding animals and hunting. Most of the Chiefdom's warriors are criminals or children of exiled soldiers whom lost their lands in the middle kingdoms centuries ago. But perhaps the time is coming soon for them to take their fight for survival to the Middle Kingdoms and carve out a place for themselves..if the stories of the Great Garden are true..
Notable Characters:
High Chief Hong Tao was once like many of the other desperate and broken groups of roving bandits in the wasteland, well known for his strength in battle he was also quite the charismatic man. Able to bring together a large group of people over the years, different clans and groups of roving wastelanders. Cruel but not unreasonable Hong Tao leads his Chiefdom with an iron fist while listening to the wants and needs of his lieutenants whom also lead smaller war-bands as part of a larger group. He truly wishes for a better future for those who follow under him and he is willing to do anything to achieve that future.
Hǎi yún, one of Hong Tao's younger lieutenants is a naturally talented martial warrior. Eager to prove herself to the other Warband Chiefs she often doesn't put much thought into the tactical side of fighting but rather joining her warriors in direct combat and throwing herself into the thick of it. Known for her temper and brutal duels to handle disputes she's both respected and dislike by others in Hong Tao's inner circle.
Nian Zhen is a well traveled man, not a warrior like some of the others he is often Hong Tao's advisor with his knowing of language and education being one of the few actually literate within the Diushi. Often greatly disliked by the other leaders in the Warband for being 'soft' or weak he is often pivotal in keeping Hong Tao reigned in and to attempt to appease to his more rational nature during stressful times. Though not always successful in his efforts his use keeps him safe and at Hong Tao's side.
Unique Military Units: White Tigers, experienced warriors in melee combat. Fearless and Terrifying to their enemies these medium infantry serve as shock troops to break their enemies will to fight.
National Idea: Blood and Coin - Due to the Diushi's nature of containing exiles and bandits as well as other unwanted peoples diplomacy with other groups is extremely difficult, having a significant debuff to all interactions with all Kingdoms and Groups. When Absorbing settlement populations gain its resources worth of production 1 time.
Player POI:
The Divine Garden
A place of unrivaled beauty and peace, a vast valley with water falling from strange unknown structures. Odd workings that are over taken in natures growth. The water is said to be pure, the soil fertile and never withers, and the weather is never harsh or severe. Mentioned in story and according to some believed to be from the 1st Age as a blessing by the divine before their departure the Diushi believe this to be their Promised Land. Though it is far away and out of reach...for now.Accepted!
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12 hours ago, The_Mad_Skylord said:
THE HOUSE OF VRIZIA
When old Robert of Vrizia - oft called a myriad of names in his later life, ranging from the Bold, to the Fearless, to the Grotesquely Fat - first arrived to the castle of Arnlynden, some miles beyond the boundaries of Illesia, he came as but a mere knight, unlanded, with only the smallest of Lances in his service. Within a year of his entrance to the service of the Baron of Arnlynden, he had earned himself a moderate estate, wherein he built a respectable manor he christened Vrizia. It was that year he whelped the first of his twelve sons on the first of his three wives, and his efforts quickly amassed him some considerable wealth and renown.
Lord Robert was by nature, however, a discontent man, and his life in Vrizia swiftly became characterised by violence and blood feuds, as he rode against his neighbours, raided their lands, and redrew the boundaries to suit himself. Despite this vicious disregard for the Baron's rule, Robert's prestige - and the surprising number of hardened warriors eager to follow him - discouraged the Baron from taking action. Eventually, Robert found himself usurping Arnlynden, taking land and title for himself. Ever vain, he decided to rechristian his new title, changing the name from the Baron of Arnlynden, to the Baron of Vrizia, and within six months he had already decided to promote himself to a count.
Robert's usurping, warmongering ways continued for years, once again focused on his neighbours, and it was in this violent reality that Robert's sons learned their trade, as they grew older, they became adept with lance and sword, and served in their father's service, each gaining their spurs, and their own minor estates. Robert's depredations were not to last forever though, and the House of Vrizia eventually found itself rooted out of its home keep, at the hands of an overwhelming alliance. Old Lord Robert was killed, and the leadership of his house fell to his eldest son, Roland, who led the House westwards, in the hopes of achieving fresh land and title in an undiscovered territory.
For years the brothers traveled, and slowly they were abandoned by all but their most loyal retainers, but now Roland, Count of Vrizia, has arrived to the ripe lands of Illesia, and already fighting men flock to his banner.....
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ROLAND, COUNT OF VRIZIA
The firstborn son of Lord Robert, Roland is every bit the ruthless and exploitative robber baron his father once was. Hardened by his father's constant petty wars, and served by a band of loyal and capable retainers - including his brothers - Roland's ambitions are mighty, as he aims to carve out a Kingdom in this new land.
Roland is a tall man, thick with muscle from years of wielding sword, shield and lance. Never particularly handsome, his looks have been made worse by the mace blow that crushed his nose, and the many scars that crisscross his face. His hair is black, cropped short, and he sports a short, pointed beard.
THE SONS OF ROBERT
Tancred
Roger
Simon
John
Hugo
Paul
William
Percy
Richard
James
Thomas
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Vrizian Longbowmen
Despite the longstanding preference for cavalry within the ranks of his father's armies, Roland has come to understand the benefits of massed archers, capable of pouring volleys of arrows onto the ranks of enemy troops. In order to provide a plenitude of such troops, Roland has ordained that all common folk in his service train with the longbow, and take to the battlefield as cheap, easily raised and unarmoured archers.
[No metal cost Medium Archers]
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A Lord and his Lances
It has long been the tradition that when the knights in service to the Count of Vrizia march to war, each must contribute a Lance to their liege lord's service. For the typical unlanded knight, a Lance is defined as 2 Longbowmen and a Man-at-Arms. This system has long allowed Vrizia to muster capable armies for campaign.
[Heavy Infantry and Heavy Cavalry count as knights, and each knight is accompanied to war by 2 Longbowmen and 1 Medium Infantryman.]
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A Family Heirloom
Old Lord Robert discovered, in the course of his travels, an ancient artefact - a signet ring from which he took his coat of arms - this ring is capable of creating earthquakes powerful enough to topple stone walls, and it currently adorns the ring finger of Roland, Count of Vrizia.
6 hours ago, Alfonso X el Sabio said:THE GREAT CACIQUEDOM OF CANEY
The Caneyans, as are what the inhabitants of the Jabacoa, or, ‘Promised Valley’, are called, are distinct from many of their cloud-faced neighbours in the north. The cloud-faces, clad in hide, like to cower in their great carved stones and houses made of strewn branches. The Caney do not grow fur on their cheeks, nor does their skin turn the color of the Mamey pulp when out for too long. The Caney live in bohios, huts made of tightly packed reed, and palm fronds, fastened with rope made from the husk of the coconut. The abodes of the Warriors, priests, and Yacaciques, minor Chiefs, are made of earth sourced from the River Jaba, set out on a cliff on the north facing side of the Guajaibon, the highest peak in the valley, cooked by the sun.
The most elderly shamans, the flesh on their faces and arms made rough from the small grooves etched by the sands of time, hold that the Caney were not from these lands, instead having sailed across the Big Sea, at the beginning of the Age. The shamans hold that the first Great Cacique, Hatuey, in a vision, was given a Star in the night sky by the Jarabacoa, by the Seven-Faced Turtle whom the Caney all worship. The day after the Great Hatuey had the vision, the Star appeared, bright, its white light shining off the water. Hatuey followed the star for 19 days, and 19 nights, until the Caney disembarked in the Sacred Valley where they reside to this day. It is said on the night the Caney arrived on the shores of the Jarabacoa, there was a turtle laying eggs on the beach, which the Caney took as a message from the Jarabacoa. The Headpiece of the Great Cacique, to this day, is adorned by the crushed shells laid by the turtle on that night, many years ago.
Today, the Caney live, beholden to their promised valley, and to their Great Cacique. Upon the banks of the River Guama, the women grow their fruits, and tend to their crops, the mani, and the ceiba. The multitude of fruits grown by the Caney, grown at the foot of the mountains protecting the Caney, like a mother swaddling her child, drink water from waterfalls born higher than the clouds. The Warriors of the Caney, the Cibuco, continue to leave on the First Thursday of the Month, to foreign shores and beaches, reaving the coasts and rivers of the cloud-faces, as they have done for thousands of years before.
Notable Characters
GREAT CACIQUE HABAGUANEX, SAINT OF THE GREAT TURTLE, THE MIGHTIEST OF THE CIBUCO, WIELDER OF THE BRIGHT STAR, YACACIQUE OF CIBONEY, REAPER OF COUNTLESS BEACHES, HE WHO GROWS ON GOOD EARTH, 413 MAMEY TREES TO HIS FATHER’S NAME.
The current Cacique of the Caney, and to whom the Yacacique’s pay homage to. He has decided to take 3 different wives, one from Ciboney, one from Baracoa, and another, a priestess. A young Cacique, the 143rd son of Hatuey, only 4 years into his rule. An ambitious, rakish young man, it will take time, and trial, to mould him into a chieftain of note. A distinguished Cibuco, one thing that can be said certain, is that he is the Mighty One, an experienced War Captain, who has led many raids to the lands of the cloud-faced. Yet, he lacks the knowledge, and temperance, of an experienced, gallant commander. As the River Guama moulded the Promised Valley, so will time mould the young Great Cacique.
CAYEY, YACACIQUE OF BARACOA
The oldest Yacacique in Jabacoa, and someone with the Great Caciques Ear. He has seen the Great Cacique grow from a small boy, to a feared warrior. Having been on 180 raids himself, he is a respected commander, and when the meetings on the big rock happen, or the Auyama, the yearly gathering of all the lesser chiefs of the Caney, his word is one of the most respected, and heeded. He has 93 Mamey Trees to his name, also making him one of the richest amongst the Caney, beside from the Great Cacique.
CACIMAR, WARRIOR
Cacimar, is a regular old Warrior. Nothing special about him!
UNIQUE UNIT
The Jurakan: A militant sect of warrior priests, whose defining feature is that they hold the secret to a form of infinite fire. Made ritualistically, in secret high in the mountains, the liquid these priests wield can spawn an exceptionally hot bright blue flame which continues raging even on water. The priests' skin is all an unnatural grey colour, different from the usual brown. In battle, and raids, they wear skulls, and are some of the only Caneyans who care enough to collect the shiny rocks and colourful strings many of the cloud-faces are also associated with.
NATIONAL IDEA
Reapers of the Northern Coasts- The Caney are, by nature, raiders, and pillagers. They have been boarding barges, razing villages, and stealing the riches of the northern coasts for generations. The Caneyan Warrior has been deep down all the major arteries of the region. During raids, the Caney are particularly ferocious, and excel in combat.
POI
The Dreaming Conch: A small clay whistle, in the shape of a small, ornate conch. When blown through the tip, a soft frequency emanates, which in close quarters causes groups of 4 or less to fall into a deep slumber, and when used on entire towns, allow the raiders to better sneak up on unsuspecting towns and villages.
Both Accepted!
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Adon’s Comet rules their sky, a fiery red orb dominating the heavens. A herald for what we know now, but the rulers of that time could only guess. Some think the end of days still continue, while others hope the first spring blooms bring the life of a new age……
-Excerpt from legends and facts of the third age
The First Year of the Third AgeMusic From The 1st Age [Ambiance]
Across the lands collectively known as Illesia, fragments of once great lands persist. Humanity may have proven they’re their own greatest threat, their own folly. The shattering of the second age was proof enough of that to most. But one thing no one could predict is just how strong they are..
The Holy Adonian Order, though secluded, remains busy year round in Illesia. Expeditions heading from their fabled city go far and wide. It’s not uncommon to see their priest in villages, towns, cities, preaching the good word of Adon, their fabled profit from the 2nd age. Adon was a legend of old, a “President” which was a title of great power in the 2nd age. A man whose ideals were so powerful they echo through time itself. Far more deadly parties roam the wastes, seeking out the words and creations of Adon…
The Bak-nari Republic ships can be seen by any nation on the oceanic coast. The Republic is sealed shut, never admitting or sending diplomatic and trade missions. Little is known of them, and it’s the same for them of Illesia. Their sleek and agile ships prowl the coast, whilst strangely garbed women are seen onboard, observing..
Nothing good comes from those near the Ill Horde. Already rumors are spreading across the locale. Tales of enslaved merchants, adventurers, even farmers on the frontiers of some lands. This quiet horde has been slowly expanding for centuries from a central point, eating up the leagues in precise moves orchestrated with expert effect. Primarily men on horse make up their army, always seen patrolling their borders and beyond. Now touching even the great river, raids on boats are not unheard of either, with the kidnapping of sailors becoming a common theme.
The Kingdom of Camadacia, with competitors on all sides, has been remarkably tight-lipped about events within their realm. Their infamous King Odilon Langlois Descoteaux has reportedly been touring his lands, visiting each of his Great Lords in turn. Ever since losing close to half the realm’s size to a peasant’s revolt, the Kingdom has suffered a severe loss of prestige. It does not change the fact they remain Illesia’s strongest Kingdom.
The Kingdom of Hausenberg, always the bitter #2 in the region, and Camadacia’s rival, has been hard at work improving their land for decades. The highly militarized and hostile society stands in stark contrast to the Camadacians. These crude, and brutal men seek only power in the new age. Anything in their way is trampled, and all within are subjugated.
The Rurviche Syndicate has long prospered off this rivalry. This oligarchy of rich merchants dominates coastal trade in the areas, and is known to lend heavily to both Kingdoms. These no nonsense businessmen forsake war like the Ideals of old. But the corrupting influence their gold has, and drives men to do, is nearly as bad.
Akim’s Freehold is the last true bastion of the second age. A massive complex wall dominates the majority of the island, made out of a reinforced material none can identify. A small but thriving harbor lays on the island just outside the wall's protection, where all can come to trade. Within the walls are various compounds, divided by more curtain walls with various buildings and farms. A central complex the size of some cities is condensed in dozens of layers of boxes. Known now for its original purpose, but it’s now regarded as the safest spot in Illesia. The Freehold itself is a multi-ethic society of priests, scholars, healers, and all the other professions idealized in the 2nd age. Any are allowed to enter, though under the knowledge they may never leave without strict permission. One can only imagine the troves of 2nd Age relics and knowledge these clever humans must be hoarding. More recently the Freehold has become a prison for some of Illesia’s worst criminals. Mad men who wielded relics to cause mass destruction, evil king’s shipped off by their realm, murderers who roamed city streets for years, the list goes on….
The Kingdom of Zorncost was founded as Adon’s Comet entered the starry skies for it’s first time in the third age. The Lords all agreed it was the mark of their King’s true power. Power they in reality wield, they all agree, as they place the crown on his head. He’s swiftly shooed away as the powerful Lords convene to discuss the impact of their new Realm on this age. Rich river lords, who had squabbled for centuries. But with such dire odds on all sides, they had slowly been growing tighter knit over the years. With reports of Adon’s Comet pouring in, it was seen as the perfect time to coronate the weakest of them. Zorncost’s foreing policy has yet to be announced, as the Kingdom binds itself together.
The Amichai are a recently established horde, intent on nothing less than world dominance. Descending from the brutal northern wastes, they emerged poor in men, but rich in power. This exhausted Kingdom has stumbled out of the wastes, to find Adon’s Comet greeting them. Deciding right then and there to set roots, the Amichai was formed. A title given to their leader, and Kingdom. One symbolizing the power in them all, and in their influence. They openly flaunt 2nd Age relics discovered in the northern wastes, perhaps as a distraction from how little of them remain.The Ka’Goran Trade Confederation announces they have a big shipment coming from further north the great river. They invite any who can to sail or march north to attend one of their infamous auctions in a grand bazaar. They are unsure what’s arriving, nations from further afield usually sending the leavings of their scavenging missions.
The peaceful Ambrosian Republic enters the 3rd age in a way that could make many jealous. Their grand bombard keeps the waterways safe, and their people grow fat and rich in safety. The governments well oiled administration ensures taxes are collected, and placed back to grow the Realm. Slightly worrying is the myriad of reports, all claiming Bak-nari ships spotted observing them in turn.
The Spirit-Seekers are perhaps the only Gorans who’s name will strike immediate fear into the hearts of mankind. These pernicious and crafty smaller humans retain the savage tradition like the Gorans of old. A tribe to make Shermani himself proud, they lay at the very gates to the Northern wastes. The Great Hierophant of the Spirit-Seekers, Utu Gruug, is visited by two hermit Gorans still holding to the olden ways. One claims riches of the mind lay to their north, while other promises material riches to their south.
The Pilgrimage has at long last arrived in the fabled lands of Illesia. Was Adon’s Comet not a sign their cause was not only righteous, but inevitable? The Ka’Gorans nervously let them through their land, citizens ahead of the army running indoors and shuttering the windows. But silence does not march with the Pilgrims, as they sing hymns and chants. Upon reaching unclaimed lands, the host sets camp to appraise their situation. Scouts soon report two potential threats nearby. The recently established Amichai are already sending contingents closer and closer to the river, eager to stake their claims. Secondly, a horde seems to be paralleling their advance, on the other side of the River Ynn. They offer no diplomacy or word, and indeed have already enslaved a few Pilgrim outriders. Those that survived claim it to be a splinter group from the Ill Horde. A horde whose reputation precedes them, no doubt.
Refugees flood into the interior of the Black Camadacian’s freeland. Shattered hamlets, holdfasts, and farmsteads, all burned to crisps. A single name is on everyone’s lips. Adrian De Grempesh, a notorious Camadacian general. It would seem the Camadacian crown was too honorable to simply march their army out and crush the Black Army. Or so they claim. Instead they have opted for the usual way of conflict nowadays. Careful border raids permeate the border, as the Camadacians test the Black Armies defenses and resolve. It was not outright war, or a declaration of one. No it was far more subtle, men garbed as bandits, enacting wanton destruction. Of course both sides know what’s happening, but this delicate balance of power, honor, and ambition swirls deeper and deeper.
Word soon reaches the Don of Serra’s ears, of egregious wrongs done against him. It would seem a particular capone in his chief maritime port was holding back on something. Be it gold or knowledge, it was clear he was outright refusing orders by now. The rest of Don Corrado’s flock are hanging back, eager to see how their leader handles the situation. Rumors indicate none other than the Rurviche Syndicate is backing him, perhaps an explanation for why he’s so bold.
The Kingdom of Albarias has boldly planted their new Kingdom in the harsh wastes. A settled kingdom, they represent an entirely unique way of life to most others in Illesia. Little of value or sustenance is found in their land, a dirt poor place. But the spirits of the humans living here are the deepest of vibrant colors. They bear the righteous fury of god in their hearts, and eye the Wastes as their own. It would seem they had contenders for their own version of paradise, as a Holy Adonian reclamation party has reportedly entered their southern lands without permission.
Herzogtum Greifenburg experienced their entrance to the new age with a stability lasting decades. King Albert in his steadfast way has ensured the Realm prospers, and thrives with every passing year. This year is marked with the arrival of several caravans, all eager to trade in the stable land. [+5k C]
Lanta perhaps did not truly know how powerful a color could be, but Purple has ascended them almost overnight into an important trade stop. Already some of the richest merchants from Realms far and wide have sent envoys, all clamoring for their dyed clothes. It’s quickly becoming a fad among Nobility, and they’re willing to pay large amounts for it. [+7k C]
The House of Vrizia has experienced perhaps the most tumultuous and thrilling saga for adventurers. Their constant rises and falls have led to an experienced and savvy band. Illesia perhaps doesn't know what it’s in for, as these Knights and their retinue flood into greener land. They find themselves with rich and open land on all sides, little of note transpiring to them. Troubling reports from the east however indicate many Realms are under threat to the Ill Horde.
THE GREAT CACIQUEDOM OF CANEY experiences a taste of their own medicine on the coasts as Adon's Comet enters the sky. A ruthless war party of Bak-nari descend on one of their more far flung western hamlets. The entire settlement is razed to the ground, and not a single male Caney makes it out alive. None truly know what this Republic intends, but it's clear they view the Caneymen with hostility, being so close to their lands. Curiously, all the Caney women are allowed to live. None actually make it back though, the women being carried off into the ships reportedly.
The River Kings of Korynn have experienced decades of peace, prosperity, and growth. Various Kings and their retinues dot the river in populated groups, engaging in fishing and their games of war. But darker undertones have begun to wrap around this people's lands. Like hidden currents in a river, trouble is knocking on their door. It was first noticed perhaps a few weeks ago, as the sky was growing red from Adon's Comets inevitable return. The water level of the river itself was lowering. The bottom begging to silt up, the banks becoming further and further away from the actual river. At this rather they were under threat of losing it entirely, the land being reclaimed by the northern wastes. It would seem the very source of their River was drying up, deep in the Davor mountain range. Worse yet, nothing but fell rumors circulate about the mountains, a place any river fearing King would not dare tred.
The Diusi have emerged from the wastes hardened and ruthless. One does not last long in their ranks, unless they wield true power. Their current leader is one such man, and perhaps he realizes the massive nature of the task at hand. Their promised land could be over the next rise, or a world away. Though they reside in the northern wastes for now, there seemed to be promise of greater lands to the south. All agreed the north was inhospitable, but surprisingly, many argued they should continue roving the northern wastes for now. Some argue they should acquire wonders of the 2nd age to combat the settled Greenlands, while others want to set out immediately for the promised land. High Chief Tao has a difficult balancing act ahead, the paths both alluring, and dangerous.....
The Tarnished are used to being the watchers, the shadows on the wall. But one of their newest initiates, bathing in the toxic waters, and emerging alive, comes running with a bold tale. They claim while they were swimming, they stumbled into a party of ungarbed women also swimming. They were clearly suffering, but powering through the pain, had attacked the initiate. Only through their training did they survive to report the incident, the women having swum away after being bested. Just days later, Bak-nari sails are reported, sleek scouting ships heading upstream. Women with rudimentary surveying gear are seen along the banks, taking notes, as others collect bottles of the mist, bringing them back to ship. They are gone almost as quickly as they come. But for the rest of the spring, their ships remain ever present, observing, ready to flee at the first sign of sails.
The Republic of Lena's bustling trade capital is by and large noted as the first major stop going upstream, and the last down. Though some other small nations occupy the Ynn as they do, none have the utility and prestige of the Lenan port. For decades the merchants have ruled a stable insular realm, growing fat of tariffs collected on trade. Various pirates, foreign merchants, local war ships, and independent ships dot the large dockside, sailors pouring in and out. This porous Port is known with affection across all of Ilesia. However the 'golden age' of the Lenan merchant class is possibly under threat. Radical Captains of the Guard have been building on the militarist support that's been growing for years. They clamor for war, seeking to expand the Nation's power beyond trade. Perhaps even more concerning is the Ill horde just over the river Ynn to their east. Already reports of raided ships, and disrupted trade have begun to filter in. With potential threats on all sides, will this Mercantile republic hold true to their ideals, and keep the flame alive? [+4k C]
Osberht awakens for the first time in this new Age, the Third Age. For now memories of his past life are uncertain, shrouded in blood and misery during the final collapse of the Second Age. He finds himself in a strange land, once fertile. But the river he wakes nearby is a shadow of it's former self, and villagers are seen grimly fishing what's left. Few catch anything, and soon to be starving children run over to him, curious. Osberht soon realizes he's in the River Kingdom of Korynn, but darkness has it's grip on this once stable realm. [+4 Prestige]
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2 hours ago, Z3r05t4r said:
Nation Name:
Herzogtum Greifenburg
Nation Government/Leader Rank:
Herzog Albert von Greifenburg
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
The people of the Herzogtum and perhaps in the vicinity call themselves Greifner, a group of midlanders of the region where the Herzogtum is situated in. The Greifner are a stern people, honest and hardworking. However this also means that they are a lawful society, disdain vagabonds and “free spirits”, with tradition dominating everyday life. Though it has provided them with a stable foundation upon which they grow and prosper, but innovation and progress often run into barriers when it does not become the general opinion of the populace. Most of the minor lords and local powerholders within the Herzogtum have withheld new inventions and innovations until either state or church have sanctified the same.
Songs, stories and their architecture are “rustic”. Simple songs of hero
ism, joy, friendship and faith, stories about brave knights and fair maidens, wise kings and holy men dominate the folklore. Education is straight and simple, the people and their children (of all strata) are being taught by either the local clergymen or if present dedicated teachers. Often enough one man or woman is teaching hundreds alone. This unfortunate limitation of capacity does have the consequence that the rural curriculum is limited to basic reading, writing and mathematics for the commoners, marginally more expanded for commoners in the few cities and towns, decently better for craftsmen and their families and of course of good quality for the wealthy. The homes are robust, of lumber and clay, often with stone foundations, even in the rural villages. Their affinity for masonry has allowed them to establish a common practice whenever a new family is founded and there is no house to be inherited, the friends and families of the married couple build one together.
The cuisine is not very diverse, with simple grain products supplemented with foraged provisions from the local flora as well as the rare piece of meat or fish ruling the plates of the Greifner. Exotic spices and unbeknownst to many and so far, the distance to the oceans and peaceful and limited contact with neighbours hasn’t caused much of an influx of rare goods.
Notable Characters:
Herzog Albert von Greifenburg (Ruler, aged 51)
A man in his fifties, Albert ascended to the ducal throne merely a decade ago, after the death of his father Reinhard II. von Greifenburg. First of his name, he is often called „the Calm“ as his demeanour whilst initially may be considered being shy is in actuality rather observant and quiet. Listening to everyone and every subject when he holds court he has become a liked ruler, never pressing taxation or other obligations too much on his populace. This however is considered by some of the minor nobles as a sign of weakness as Albert is seen likely incapable of making harsh and swift decisions, taking critical time to overanalyse issues before making a choice. Then again, his mettle has not been tested in the past ten years, so these might just be rumours.
Prinzessin Deborah von Greifenburg (aged 20)
The older daughter of Albert takes much after her father, being at least equally patient. Always formal and polite to him and everyone else, it often comes across rather cold, earning her the nickname of “Icy Princess”. The only thing that has melted this icy discipline of hers was her brother Komodan, for whom no task was too big and arduous for her.
Prinzessin Isabella von Greifenburg (aged 18)
The younger daughter Isabella takes more after her late mother Anneliese. A bit more grounded in things, she is aloof in her adherence to court etiquette and is always willing to have a chitchat with the kitchen maids, housekeepers and stable hands. Like her older sister, she is very fond of the arrogant young brother.
Prinz Komodan von Greifenburg (aged 10)
Being the long expected heir to Greifenburg, Komodan’s birth came at the cost of his mother’s health, Anneliese. At the mere age of three she passed away, leaving Komodan fully in the care of his father and sisters, the latter being overprotective of their little brother. Much to the dismay of Albert, Komodan has grown to be a petty and spoiled young boy so far, pursuing every slight and insult received, whether intended or not.
Unique Military Units (One):
Herzogsgarde (Unique Heavy Crossbowmen)
National Idea:
Greifenburger Meisterhandwerk
10% construction cost reduction (decimal values rounded up)
Player POI
Greifenhorst (Ancestral Castle)
1 hour ago, DoomedDM said:Nation Name:
Lanta
Nation Government/Leader Rank:
A 'federalized' monarchy with a council of local representatives subordinate to the Senact
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
It is said in Lantan legends that in times past, sometime during the second age before the coming of the foul warlord Shermani the people of Lanta were peaceful and prosperous. Ruled by a council of the most virtuous and wisest men of the land, harvests were bountiful and the people of Lanta had all that they could ever want. Their homes were warm in the winter and they felt no hunger. It was said that few builders were even necessary, as the houses of the locals were sturdy and did not bend to wind nor break as the earth shuddered.
Then came the Goran, a vile people who sought only the destruction of all who valued peace and justice in the world. Under the banner of the arch-devil Shermani himself they spread across the land like a plague of locust. They took all that they could and burned what they could not. Men were killed or impaled whilst the women suffered dreadful fates. During this era of great violence the Council of the wise, the senacts, decided to make a stand. They knew that they could not achieve victory, but neither could they stand by as more and more people were pushed towards the coast. Whilst their ancestral lands were defiled by the heathens. Thus the senacts and the people of Lanta made a stand, and through they made great sacrifices and fought with valor, the people of Lanta were defeated. However, though they were defeated they inflicted a great cost to the enemy and many of their people managed to successfully flee. Nearly all of the senacts had died or decided to ritually depart from the mortal realm, only one remained to guide the survivors of Lanta.
Senact Victus (though rumoured to have originally been Victor) remained to unite the disparate refugees and helped organize them in the darkest of times. Eventually, after the Gorans had mostly left, Senact Victus led the survivors back to their homeland. After their return the Lantans prospered again, until Victus was slain by an unknown assassins'. The assassins' identity is lost to history but the most popular theory was that it was a Goran who had moved into Lantan lands and feared Victus's succes. However it happened, after his death the Lantans splintered as leadership was unclear and many held rebellious sentiments. Spurred on by Goran conspirators in the background. Then, two centuries ago in the city of Lantea arose a cunning leader, whose lineage descended from a cousin of Victus, who was known as Mason. Through a wise application of both force of arms and cunning he managed to unite the Lanteans for the second time in their history. With Mason eventually claiming the Senact title as held by Victus, and his descendants continued to rule wisely and helped bring unity to the local lands. The descendants of Mason still rule the land, though power is partially delegated to the Council. A body set up by Mason to help bring peace to the land and to settle local disputes peacefully.
And thus is the origins of the Lantans, as described by the storytellers.
Notable Characters;
Senact Jasuc the 1st, (45 years old), Jasuc is the current Senact of Lanta and is a man defined the most two things, greed and a desire for control. He wishes to dominate the mind of men and hold influence far beyond the borders of his current realm. This influence might not come merely from the direct controlling of land, but through trade and through that controlling the allegiance of men. Jasuc further desires great control over his own realm and citizen, though this is hampered by his lust as he beds and controls the lives of the most beautiful women of the realm. Something which is quite unpopular, especially among the Council. Still, beyond his greed and lust there lies a cruel and cunning mind who one should not underestimate.
Unique Military Units (One):
River Marines (Medium Infantry):
River marines are soldiers who are specialized for two situations, river combat and being effective in combat during an opposed landing (though the emphasis is on the former). The River marines are adept at navigating/steering war canoes (or other ships) and boarding enemy vessels. With their equipment specialized to make as much use of the environment as possible.National Idea :
Gold and Purple; Through precise and exentsive use of bribery and (to a lesser extent) diplomatic flattery the Lantans are excellent at gaining the favors of many influential individuals. A means which they can use to exert pressure on the rulers of a realm to act in a way favorable to the Lantans. And if they will not cooperate or accept Lantan gifts, perhaps their subordinates are more open to them.
Player POI;
The local region around Lanta is native to a plant that when processed through a long and arduous process can result in the production of purple clothing/dyes. This is technique the people of Lanta have mastered and they now produce a small amount of purple fabric each year. Not a large strategic asset, but a valuable gift to influence others.
Both accepted with flying colors!
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1 hour ago, NunuTheGreat said:
Nation Name:
Petty Kingdom of Albarias
Nation Government/Leader Rank:
The Kingdom of Albarias is an autocracy led by King Sebastián de Córuña.Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
Consisting of the towns Valençia and Córuña, and the smaller villages Málatoria, Codiz, Argos, Árón, and Tadolid, the Kingdom of Albarias was formed via marriage between the oldest son of the Córuña family and the oldest daughter of the Valençia family. The union has brought all of the Albarian region together, with the small villages falling in line after some light diplomacy. With the swearing of fealty to the new crown, the Albarian people were now united against the horrors of the badlands and its wastes. Having formed just recently and the petty kingdom being in its infancy, much is expected to come now that there is an organized and centralized body of governance. As for the history of their settlements, not much had happened in the Albarian region before the union of families, or rather nothing is remembered. Being so far separated from most civilizations, the people of the villages and towns simply have tried their best to live life up until this point.
Notable Characters; [VERY Important to have flushed out RP for vassals, politicians, w.e your government type is. Due to small scale of nations, characters with RP and Lore behind them will have much more impactful actions, will get events, boons, etc:
King Sebastian de Córuña - Oldest son of the Córuña family, Sebastián now sits as king of the Albarian people next to his wife Cristina de Valençia. Being a spry young man having only seen 20 winters, the village's great families seem a little weary, but are willing to put their faith into something rather than nothing. Sebastian has great plans however, and his goals are mutually shared by his wife. The wastes will be tamed and civilized for his people to grow and prosper.
Cristina de Valençia - The oldest daughter of the Valençia family, and queen of Albarias, Cristina is said to be both brilliant and beautiful. The equally young woman is in the same boat as her beloved husband, with most of the village's great families putting faith into their rule, hoping it will take them out of the hellscape they’ve been banished to.
Pnultimo Soria - Best friend of Sebastián and trusted advisor, the pair have been causing mischief since they were children. Now rather than helping one another pull pranks on old man Fernando, Pnultimo helps run the Kingdom, accomplishing any tasks his friend, and his king asks him to. Being “lowborn”, Pnultimo is not liked by the leading village families, but having the King's ear does make him somewhat respected. Not very smart but extremely loyal, Pnultimo is truly a great friend.(Heads of each village are to be made.)
Unique Military Units (One):
Albarian Caballeros (Heavy Cav)- Made up of men mostly from influential families but not uncommon to have a commoner in their ranks, the Caballeros are the King’s knights who’ve taken oaths of conquest in hopes of bringing honor and glory to their family, no matter how big or small, and as such they will only be freed of their oaths when they perish on the battlefield.
National Idea:
Albarian Levy - Every settlement whether Village/Town/City (preferably scaling with level of settlement) can provide light troops when called upon. (To be ironed out with you.)Player POI;
Blade of Conquest - A relic longsword found at the bottom of the river, held onto by the Córuña family for some time now and being used to protect the town of Córuña on more than one occasion. The sword gives its user unparalleled martial ability. Currently the relic blade is wielded by the first king of Albaria, Sebastián de Córuña.Accepted! <3
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5 minutes ago, Will (TauFirewarrior) said:
Nation Name:
League of Serra
Nation Government/Leader Rank:
Oligarchic Republican League (De-Jure), Syndicate-Despotism (De-Jure), Gonfaloniere of Justice
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
The peoples of Serra settled the peninsula during the demise of the second age, escaping the warmongering of the Goran and the destruction that they had wrought. As one of many displaced peoples they found luck that the land they settled was not only fertile but was naturally defended by rivers to its north and south, the seas to the west and mountains to its east. It allowed the Serrans to flourish and establish a new civilisation in the years leading up to the third age, leading to large farmsteads and villas being constructed in the rural countryside. River trade formed two towns along the riverfront along with villages that benefited from the trade that flowed up the river and the fertile lands to grow their crops.
In time this led to a landowning aristocracy forming and dominating the main product of the League and as such the income that comes with it, but it also led to conflicts between the various families that rose in petty power games between hectares of land and the ownership of it. This in turn led to bands of Condottiero rising across the peninsula working as hired muscle for the aristocrats in their petty wars, often incredibly small scale with battles being barely in the hundreds. Blood kept the lands of Serra very fertile for decades and soldiers well seasoned even in their small skirmishes.
Eventually from this rose Corrado Orsi, a Condottiero from a modest background as a freeholder until he himself was extorted and pushed out of his holding by the aristocrats that coveted to paint the map more in their own colours. He took to the hinterlands of Serra and gathered others disenfranchised to his own banner and formed the Black Hand mercenary band, seeming to have become like the very men who worked for those who took the lands he once held.
As time passed Corrado made connections in the urban towns and across the rural countryside, working for many of the aristocrats and earning himself quite a tribute in the process, investing his wealth into various businesses in the towns of Serra including the titular capital itself. He also stoked tensions between the aristocrats and other condottiero. All this eventually culminated in two factions of aristocrats hiring the same mercenary company to kill each other, not the Black Hand but another company goaded by Orsi that he would share the spoils. Instead after the rogue Condottiero killed the two factions, the Black Hand and their veteran Black Stripes veterans swooped in to kill them for breaking their contract and killing many of the leaders of the League.
With little remaining of the old power structure in the League and with public opinion in favor of Corrado Orsi, he won an overwhelming vote of the remaining eligible electorate to become the Gonfaloniere and de-facto leader. It has been decades since this election and between the time of his ascension and his current rule the structure of the League has been remolded with former officers of the Black Hand becoming ‘Captains’ ruling over districts of the towns and collecting fees from merchants and landholders. Corrado while his title of office might be the Gonfaloniere he is known to the people as Don Orsi.
Taxes are not in official existence or policy in the League, instead the Orsi and by extension the Black Hand get a cut of all business that go on in the borders of Serra extracting one fifth of all income from merchants and produce from farmers thus sustaining the soldiers that maintain the Black Hand’s control over the country. The new aristocrats are the Captains of various districts who have taken up residence in villas and farmsteads using the workforce as the old aristocrats once did, though the power games and skirmishes between Condottiere are now a thing of the past as Don Orsi values peace and prosperity as its good for his business.
The Port Town of Serra itself is a free port, any and all goods might pass through the harbor and flow into the League and upriver though no tariff officially exists the Black Hand still expects a cut in return for protection.
Notable Characters:
Don Corrado Orsi, the Gonfaloniere of Justice, Patriarch of the Orsi and Condottiere of the Black Hand; the now aged ‘father of the republic’ and leader of what is little more these days than an extortion syndicate that replaced the aristocrats of old. Portraying himself as a fatherly or in some cases grandfatherly fashion, a man of honor to foreign dignitaries especially those from his North and a gentleman. To his people he is seen as generous, often giving out generous gifts of food to the poor all to uphold his image as a benevolent overlord. Behind the scenes he is ruthless, willing to dispose of anyone who betrays him and betrayal has something of a low bar in Serra. His background is both modest enough for the peasantry who see him as coming from their own and the aristocrats who see him as a landholder from birth, though in truth he is further from both but he has maintained an image and few of relevance are alive from when he first rose to power.
Furio Orsi, Mayor of Porta Serra, District Captain of the Black Hand; the heir apparent to the Orsi legacy within the Republican League but not necessarily the next leader as dynastic rule has not been cemented by the Don, nor agreed by the other Captains in Serra. Nevertheless Furio is a capable enforcer for his father, leading his own unit of the Black Hand elites in order to make collections in his district and keep the revenues from the ports growing.
Antonio Blundetto, Assemblyman of Serra, District Captain of the Black Hand; a man only slightly younger than the Don himself, he was the squire of Corrado during their days as Condottiere and the age of the aristocrats. Now he is one of the more powerful Captains of the Black Hand, responsible for protecting the countryside and collecting their cut from the landowners and dealing out punishments for those who refuse the protection of the Orsi.
Unique Military Units (One):
The Black Stripes (Hybrid Medium Spears/Crossbow); an elite hybrid infantry unit known for the black stripes upon their tabard and armor, they are a unit that excels in use of the spear and shield but also masterful use of the crossbow. Famed in the days of the aristocrats for their formations of crossbows firing off volleys before disappearing behind the guarded shields of their comrades. Dealing ranged damage against stationary opponents and shock against those who would charge at them. Off the battlefield they are expert trackers and work well in small units should they be required for infiltration or other missions. If Don Corrado wishes to send a message he will send the Black Stripes.
National Idea (nothing strictly mechanical):
The Marionette; the Don in his long career as the leader of the Serran League has made connections, traded favors or otherwise taken ownership of individuals, nobles, officers and other individuals in his neighboring provinces. Giving him a network of information and the ability to acquire secrets, this network has allowed him to engage in cordial relations with those around him and build his desired image to foreign dignitaries.
Player POI;
Mace of Serra; a ceremonial mace that is used as part of the official regalia for the head of state within the league. It is an artifact from the second age that in close proximity gives its user the ability to influence minds.
Accepted.
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5 minutes ago, TankM1A2 said:
NORTH CAMADACIAN BLACK ARMY
NATION GOVERNMENT/LEADER RANK:
A collection of communes, governed by a General Assembly.
DESCRIPTION OF NATIONAL/PROVINCIAL HISTORY & CULTURE:
For as long as hierarchies existed, there sat those at the bottom of the order. Those individuals who were trodden by lords, merely as a consequence of birth. Many wondered if there were gods above, how they could create a world riddled with inequality. These people resolved that no man should rule over another, rejecting the traditional autocratic methods of rule, and the centralized apparatus of state. This ideology harbored itself within the peasant and working classes of Camadacia.
The supposed protectors of the peasants were often no more than bullies, claiming the spoils of the labor of everyday men and women, under the threat of force. A particular individual named Enguerrand swore to suffer such oppression no longer. When his lord came to collect, Enguerrand refused to relinquish his tithe. Infuriated, the knight raised his sword, prepared to run the man down, while Enguerrand stood his ground. Inspired by Enguerrand’s moving words and rebellion, an onlooking peasant named Emmanuelle Soulat, leveled his pitchfork, skewering the knight’s mount. The horse would fling the knight from his back, before eventually collapsing upon the knight himself. Having come to terms with his death, Enguerrand stood frozen, before delivering a speech proclaiming their newfound freedom to the estate’s workers. This marked the beginning of the revolution.
Enguerrand would not stop there, enlisting the aid of hardline anarchists to spread word to the nearby villages. Many who were curious came to leave their homes for Villequiers to marvel at the ambitious idea of a stateless society. Many were captivated and decided to settle there. Those who didn’t, remained at their homes, to further propagate Mother Anarchism’s mission, of course, with aid of Enguerrand’s agents. Eventually, whole swaths of the countryside would raise the red and black banner, before the Camadacian Army could even muster a response. Fearing inevitable retaliation, the new free villages convened to appoint a military leader of a new Black Army, composed of all the communes’ militias.
The struggle from Camadacian tyranny would climax upon the fields of Quiercy, where an overconfident Camadacian knightly cavalry force attempted to outflank the Black Army line, only to be bogged down in the uncharted marsh in which the Black Army anchored its flank. As the knights dismounted from their horses and began wading through mud, the Black Army counter-charged with their halberds and poleaxes with renewed vigor. Caught unprepared, the Camadacian knights were quickly cut down, and the remainder of the Camadacian force fled the field. A resounding cry broke out through the ranks: no gods, no masters.
Now with breathing room, the communes properly organized, sending representatives to the Congress of Villequiers, where they proclaimed the North Camadacian Free Territory, wholly independent of the southern Camadacian elites.
Equal representation defines the General Assembly of the North Camadacian Free Territory, with each commune permitted to appoint their own representative. Representatives are often communal coordinators and charismatic individuals, bearing the respect of their people. The General Assembly convenes frequently to discuss policy and coordinate efforts between the various communes. The concept of mutual aid is paramount to the functions of the General Assembly.
Surrounded by feuding states, the North Camadacian Free Territory adheres to a strict doctrine of militarized anarchism. The Security Council of the Black Army is composed of militia leaders from the territory’s disparate communes, elected by their soldiery. These militia leaders convene periodically to discuss military strategy going forward, to protect the liberties of the territory’s inhabitants. A seat on the Security Council is mutually exclusive to a seat upon the General Assembly.
UNIQUE MILITARY UNITS:
BLACK ARMY MILITIA (TWO-HANDED MEDIUM INFANTRY): The Black Army Militia are stalwart defenders of anarchism itself, fighting for their very way of life and possessing nearly unshakable morale. These troops are well equipped, courtesy of the Blacksmiths’ Assembly, clad in half-plate and wielding halberds.
NOTABLE CHARACTERS:
Enguerrand, Representative of Villequiers
Born and raised in Camadacia, Enguerrand spent much of his youth growing up beneath the boot of the manorial system. With every harvest claimed by his supposed lord, Enguerrand quickly became disillusioned by the idea that any man could rule over another. Enguerrand would spark the revolution with his defiance to a local lord. His dedication to global emancipation and fearlessness, inspired those around him to come to his aid. He is the quintessential anarchist, compassionate and determined. Enguerrand is decidedly in favor of further liberation efforts.
Dartagnan, Colonel of the Black Army
Dartagnan is hailed as the senior most officer of the North Camadacian Black Army, holding the rank of colonel. Dartagnan began his career not with the Black Army, but as a junior officer of the Royal Camadacian Army in the infantry. His last deployment for Camadacia involved a detachment being sent North to ‘restore order’ to the free people of North Camadacia. Bearing witness to the brutality required to bring the peasants to heel, he defected, alongside many like-minded soldiers, vowing never again to serve a state. Though many were initially skeptical of his arrival, Dartagnan came to offer valuable insights which allowed the Black Army to prevail in the field, and him to advance in the ranks.
NATIONAL IDEA: No Gods, No Masters
PLAYER POI: Ambernac Fitness Club: A fully equipped gym of the 2nd Age, allowing Black Army soldiers to get ripped.Accepted
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9 hours ago, Catostrophy said:
Nation Name:
The Spirit-Seekers
Nation Government/Leader Rank:
Tribal confederacy under the spiritual leadership of a Great Hierophant.
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
The once-mighty Gorans had changed their path from what the ancestors wished, and had forgotten - nay, cast aside – the path of the righteous warrior. It is this path that the Spirit-Seekers tread even now, and for all time, until their mission is complete.
Long ago, men were noble and strong. They hunted great lizard beasts and survived the mighty colds and dreaded hots. The life-giving spirits – the Worrunt’e – saw their goodness, and chose to gift them great boons. They breathed life into metal and gave men living tools to destroy the great beasts and build stone houses for their families to live safe from the cold and hot. At first, men retained their goodly nature, but with idleness and weakness their hearts shrunk and they forgot their ways. They refused to honour the Worrunt’e, and took from them too much. The men used the tools for things they were never meant, until the Worrunt’e within them expired. Men fought over the remaining boons until all was dust.
The last noble warrior, Shermani, tried to reclaim the last few living tools and did slaughter countless miscreants, but to no avail. His mission a failure, his great Goran tribe scattered and forgot the great mission. Not we! The Seekers of the Old Spirits must respect the Worrunt’e so that the living tools may be mended! We shall honour their gifts and retain the four virtues.
Strength without villainy – we take what we need, not what we want.
Trade without falsehood – what is offered is given. What is given is theirs.
Honour without compromise – a knife in our back will be repaid with a knife in their heart.
Journey without end – our way is to wander, to be idle is to invite corruption.
We shall find the last Worrunt’e, and return the times of good. We shall respect them so our children may grow wise and safe. Ours is the path of nobility!
-Spoken record of the tribe’s ‘history’ passed down by storytellers.Notable Characters; [VERY Important to have flushed out RP for vassals, politicians, w.e your government type is. Due to small scale of nations, characters with RP and Lore behind them will have more impactful actions, will get events, boons, etc:
The Great Hierophant of the Spirit-Seekers, Utu Gruug
An ancient man of fifty years, Utu has lead the tribe since childhood across the barren wastes. He is one of the longest lived of his position and is deeply respected by his tribe. His knowledge of the living tools is vast, having come into contact with the Guiding Spirit when just a child. In a dream, he was shown how to awaken the Guide, which elevated him to the position of Hierophant due to his sacred connection.
In his early days he had charged across the barrens hunting like all men do. With Guide in hand, he always found valleys and oasis’ where game would mingle, and bring great plenty to his tribe upon return. Though many proclaimed his greatness for these acts, not once would he allow them to speak well of him without thanking the Worrunt’e twice over – determined as he was to remain humble.
The Guide’s aid was ever more useful during the war with the violent Shatterpeak tribe, who would raid the Spirit-Seeker’s caravans and make off with their beasts and women. After spending a dozen nights communing with the Guide, he lead the Spirit-Seekers to the hidden yurts of the Shatterpeaks. Instead of ambushing or slaying them in the night, the Spirit-Seekers announced themselves loudly and boldly, demanding a duel with the Shatterpeak chieftain. The Shatterpeaks attempted to flee, but were caught and promptly killed for their cowardice. As was tradition, Utu was offered three of the Shatterpeak’s women for his yurt, but instead he gave one each to three of his strongest warriors. He had never taken a wife, and never would.
Many times during the years he received cryptic dreams from the spirits, giving him visions and signs leading him to more artefacts. Following one such vision he found a great plain littered with living tools that had lost their Worrunt’e. The metal they were clad with was stronger and thicker than any ever encountered, and Utu ordered the metal-makers to arm his mightiest warriors with them. He dedicated the rest of his life to interpreting his dreams and seeking ancient lore, and left war to his trusted warriors.
To this day he studies ancient tomes and tools devoid of Worrunt’e to learn how they may inhabit them again. Though he grows old his mind is sharper than most, and his wisdom legendary.Unique Military Units (One):
Relic Warriors (Super Heavy Cav)
Clad in thick metals taken from ancient tools, they thunder across the wastes impervious to most weapons. They may be slower than just about any other horseman, but the sheer inertia of their charge can shatter even the most hardened of settled folk.National Idea (nothing strictly mechanical):
Seek, and you shall find: The Spirit-Seekers seek ancient machines and relics to bring about the times of good. They have a knack for finding and using 2nd Era artefacts, operable or not, and sometimes making them operable again...Player POI;
The Spirit Guide:
A mystical window that shows the world as if seen from far above. If one performs the correct gestures, the locations of the great stone houses are visible, and the many buried paths that lead to them. As such, it is difficult to hide from the tribe, and impossible to get lost on the vast plains.
Accepted.
However POI wise I'm imposing a restriction. Can only look through the window once per day. Avoids abuse of it during battles, encounters, etc. Take any objections up in your Private Channel on discord.
7 hours ago, Zanderaw said:Nation Name:
The Pilgrim Legion & The Pilgrim Church
Nation Government/Leader Rank:
Autocracy - The Pilgrim Legion is led by the warlord Desab, an overbearing man of unparalleled ambition, who has christened himself Savior of All Men and Emperor of the Promised World. He is accustomed to total obedience in his camp, and save for priests of the church itself, many of the Pilgrims often give the impression that it is he they worship.
Theocracy - The Pilgrim Church is led by The Magistrates, an ancient, scholarly class well versed in religious rites and ancient histories. They come from the land of Modi’im, what is said to be an ancient and hidden vault of knowledge, buried deep within the wastes. They are responsible for the warlord Desab’s conversion, and direct the faithful on their path to salvation.Regulars of the Pilgrim Legion, Desab’s loyal minions
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
Founded by the Priests of Modi’im, what was once a small, isolated religious sect has rapidly spiraled into a massive army on the march towards salvation. The original adherents to the Pilgrimage were The Magistrates, a small and secretive order of scholars holed up within the fortress-library of Modi’im, from which they weathered the storms of the apocalypse - or so they say. To the faithful, The Magistrates are the pinnacle of knowledge and wisdom, inheriting the intellect of the world before. From atop this pedestal, these priests preach salvation to the unenlightened masses, more specifically, the end to the Age of Trial, and the arrival of the coming Age of Salvation.
In their pursuit to spur the faithful into action, the Magistrates of Modi’im have faced many hardships, being expelled from over 109 realms across the ages for false treacheries, thievery, and heresys. The arrival of Adon’s Comet, though, is what would ultimately prove to be the catalyst for the Pilgrim’s rise to power. The Magistrates, having predicted that the comet would eventually return, threw into motion a series of events, manipulated from behind the curtain…
This would include the conversion of the Essene general, Desab, and his infamous legion, carried out by a particularly soft spoken Holy Man, the promise of a beautiful Pilgrim bride and a crown in the Promised World was all that it would take to push the man into treachery, causing him and his men to abandon their posts, marching south onto the prophesized Pilgrimage. In their march south through Ka’Goran, the holy words of the Magistrates have carried far and wide, igniting the hearts of many who have cast aside their sinful pasts, repented, and taken up righteous arms! Their prosthelytizing has caused the ranks of the Pilgrim legion to swell with many conscripts eager to earn their place in the Promise World.
Dawning on the current year, the Pilgrimage has finally left the Ka’Goran realm - entering a holy and sacred land, a land on which the prophesied Ascension will be carried out. Here, though, the Pilgrims are truly foreigners. The languages and practices of those they encounter are strange, their practices barbaric, their beliefs - heretical. To the Magistrates, the path ahead is clear. The Pilgrimage must not be stopped. It must march onwards, saving those who will not save themselves, and extinguishing those who cannot be saved…The Hardened Zealots of the Pilgrim Church
Notable Characters:
Desab, Savior of All Men, Emperor of the Promised World, the Reshaper of Destinies, He Who Cleanses, The First Pilgrim, Chosen of Heaven and Master of Earth: Details are hazy on Desab’s early life, for he wishes to be known for the messiah he has become rather than the man he was. Still, a clever and careful spy might deduce that the warlord Desab was once an officer in the Essene Legions, far upriver from the valley he now finds himself in. Ten years ago he was converted by an enterprising priest, and mere months later he went rogue, taking his army with him. Answerable to almost no one, Desab has been a blight on the land ever since, following the inscrutable words of his soothsayers on a trail of terror. Now we find him here, having threatened the Ka’Gorans into letting him pass. Who can say where he will go next…
Dahc, The Headsman: Slave to Desab and his most favored servant, Dahc has sworn an oath to never go another day without slaying a heathen with his own hands. This he does with visible pleasure, and Desab is happy to encourage these tendencies - there is no shortage of heathens, and it serves him well to have such a man leading his forces. After all, the best war is a short war and the shortest war is the most brutal.
Eleazar of Modi’im, The High Magi: A man who has committed the whole of his life to the study, and advancement of the one true faith, the last hope for humanity. From a young age, Eleazar was molded and shaped into a zealous adherent of the Pilgrim Faith. If ever he had doubts about its authenticity, they are long vanished. Both generous and devout, the High Magi welcomes the unwashed, absolving them of sins and guiding them along the path of truth; but turns away the man who will not learn, and sees to it that he will not weigh down the faithful. Within the Pilgrim Legion, Eleazar observes the day-to-day religious rites and rituals, as well as observing omens and other such symbols from heaven.
Kaar Bahkra, The Zealot: Deep within the desert, where the Pilgrim Church had long been exiled to the halls of the Modi’im, Kaar Bahkra served as the sacred temple’s foremost protector, warding off any would-be defilers from the halls of the Magistrates. Now, the Blessing of Heaven burns through the sky - and the Church marches unto salvation, with Kaar Bahkra at its head. The Zealot is the arm of The Magistrates, commanding the elite, and most fanatic core of the Pilgrim army. Raised from birth for his role in the Church, Kaar Bahkra is entirely devoted and indoctrinated into Church thought. For the promise of the Great Journey, there is nowhere he will not go, and nothing he will not do…Unique Military Units (Two):
The Masons - Even the frail of body can serve the Pilgrimage in its ceaseless march. Everywhere his soldiers trample, Desab offers salvation to those of keen mind, who fell even the mightiest of obstacles for his legion. With the experience of a hundred sieges behind them, these followers are professionals in the rapid construction of tunnels, ramps, bridges and siege equipment. With such innovation, nothing stands in the army’s way.
The Prophets - The tendrils of the Pilgrim Church spread well ahead of the legion itself. Those most faithful, most cunning, are christened as Prophets to prepare the world for the Pilgrimage’s coming. Each speaks half a dozen languages, each can bring a crowd to tears by words alone, each works tirelessly to turn a land’s people to the side of the true faith. They are an insidious rot across the region, and if they cannot spare their flock from judgment, they will hasten it by feeding a nation’s most coveted secrets to the oncoming crusade.
National Idea (nothing strictly mechanical):
Zealous Fervor: The soldiers of the Pilgrimage are emboldened by the promise of the Great Journey and the Age of Salvation. They fight bitterly, and without surrender until the very end. [Military units do not rout]
Player POIs:
The Ark of Salvation - An ancient and holy relic of ages yore. It is sheltered within a golden box, roughly the size of a man, that emits a faint clicking when one listens carefully. The Magistrates say it contains the sins of the world. It is carried everywhere the pilgrimage goes, and to date has yet to be opened, for the Pilgrims will only be fit to see its contents on the day of ascension.
The Rod of Beit She’an - A thin staff made of steel, capped with a sort of upside-down umbrella. When a certain star appears in the sky, the staff comes to life and can be used for a period of several days. None know exactly how the relic functions, but so long as the sacred star remains above, the staff has a profound effect on the weather - rain turns to sleet, then snow, rivers freeze solid and birds migrate from the area. The staff is currently in the possession of Desab himself, who wields its sharpened base as a spear - though his slaves polish it so brightly one would never guess how many lives the weapon has taken.
Accepted.
However I'm imposing some restrictions.
Zealot Fervor seems a bit too powerful considering that applies to every sort of military unit. I'd be willing to have it apply to solely Heavy Units, and a greater morale for all others. Take any objections to discord private channel.
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9 hours ago, MugRootBeerOfficial said:
Nation Name: Ambrosian Republic of Vudoa
Nation Government/Leader Rank: Minor Trade Republic
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture: The Ambrosian Republic of Vudoa was formed originally as a break-away state of a old Duchy, where the peasants and burghers in the province of Vudoa overthrew and hanged the local nobles and installed a Senatorial Trade Republic. Due to the Duchy's waning strength, nothing could be done to prevent the peasants from forming their own Republic. Their culture closely relates to Genoese Customs and Policy.
Notable Characters; [VERY Important to have flushed out RP for vassals, politicians, w.e your government type is. Due to small scale of nations, characters with RP and Lore behind them will have much more impactful actions, will get events, boons, etc: The current Ambrosian Minister is Livio Sofia, a Moderate in the political scope with a focus on the survival of the economy, at the downside of not focusing on the humanist sector of rights for the religious minorities, and often times threatening to increase their taxes specifically.
The Ambrosian Republic functions with a Senate to approve acts and laws, and the Ambrosian Minister being elected by the people directly.
Unique Military Units (One): Ambrosian Raiders (Elite Shock Troops)
National Idea (nothing strictly mechanical): Diplomacy
Accepted! Though can I get your discord? Wanna go over a few things with you, and introduce you to our FRP community.
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I write to you in the year 1090, in what some may call the fourth age. An age that has already come, one that has already passed, and is one I find myself in now. My university has always been intrigued by Adon’s Comet, and the time spent under its bloody gaze. Over one thousand years ago and still its history haunts my pages. I endeavored to document the world as they knew it. A book for people of our age to get a feel for just how grim the Third Age had been for humanity. Below is an excerpt from the first few chapters, detailing some of what’s known;
-Jerrah Barak, scholar at Tzon University.
A CD is attached to the book [Ambiance]
The world as we know it in the years leading to the third age;
All can agree the end of times was marked by the first appearance of Adon’s Comet. Humanity had been thriving in the second age, building wonders we can barely comprehend. Buildings clawed their way to the sky, and carriages flitted amongst them, unshackled to the land. War as we know it was a foreign concept, ruled out as an outdated way of accomplishing things, and long forgotten. Ambassadors and Government officials ruled, beholden to their people.Trade, migration, innovation, tenets that dominated their philosophy. For centuries the cities and rural tracts of humanity thrived, grew, and merged under this system. This ‘Age of Peace’ as scholars now label it, is in stark contrast to the time this book addresses. However it’s an important part of the history leading up to what we have come to discover.
As the years passed by in their hundreds, things eventually began to reach a state of stagnation, even regression. This unrivaled era of peace was beginning to show cracks. No single event can be labeled as the true reason the age ended, and Adon’s Comet is only credited as the herald. But upon close inspection one can see a variety of reasons festering for centuries has slowly knocked out the foundations of society, bit by bit. Global trade networks began to shatter after plague on a scale never seen before ravage the world. Corrupt and autocratic politicians seized power, wielding massive nations who previously never even had an army. The world itself was changing, tectonic plates shifting at unprecedented levels, seas rising to flood entire continents.
As the world itself and the nations began to break down, war was reintroduced to the world, in small increments. At first it was only militias, and insurgents, wielding whatever they could scrap together. But as more and more battles happened, deadlier inventions meant to kill were being churned out. It wasn't long before entire armies were pitched against one another, fighting across massive cities spanning entire countries. The scale of destruction outpaced anything the citizens of this time could conceive. Their technologies were beyond that of our modern era, surpassing the need for ballistics by the end.
So though all can agree Adon’s Comet marks the end of the second age, in truth, it was dying for a long time. For a full year the red comet blazed in the sky, and under it, the world crumbled. The foundations of society had been corrupted to the point of blowing away as dust. Morals and Reasoning abandoned for profit and power. Nations of innovation and prestige traded for dying states, squabbling over everything.
By the time Adon’s Comet departed back to the void, the Great Nations of the second age had ceased to exist. Their successor states, though vast and powerful, were temporary things, lacking the prestige gained from centuries of rule and tradition. Powerful minds sculpted these new nations, molding them to their fleeting images and ambitions.
Hundreds of years have passed since that glorious time in humanity’s chapter, and much has been lost on the way. For war has never truly stopped ever since the shattering of the second age. The bloated successor states of old fought and died, and fought again. Over and over, year after year, piece by piece they lost the very things they were fighting to preserve. Armies marching over entire countries, leaving a wake of destruction. None other than the infamous Warlord Shermani himself was the prime purveyor of this inane and wanton slaughter. His infamous march shattered an entire continent, in his quest to scavenge and preserve technology from the second age. Billions owe their deaths to him and his army, and the dozens like him over these years.
The world as we know it in the first year of the Third Age [FRP Start];
With such a heavy burden to bear, we now look even further ahead to the start of the third age. Ominously marked by the return of Adon’s Comet, people at that time didn’t even know what it was, or that it had a name. We look at a world so completely different, it seems unrecognizable. In terms of actual geography, and humanity as a whole. Entire nations, concepts, peoples, lost to the passage of history, and the fiery destruction of human war. Technology burnt up in the fires of mass extinction, architecture swallowed to the changing of the world. History for the people of this time is tenuous at best, the bold ones claiming to be successor states to the ancient empires, having no idea their autocratic rule is a vicious mockery of the old ideals.
Human loss up to this date can’t be stressed enough, an extinction event worse than even the archaic dinosaurs of the first age. What remains are not even worthy of titles like ‘Nations’ or ‘Governments’. Petty Kings by and large rule in the husks of once great empires. Monarchs descended from families who gained power under a variety of circumstances. Some were just raised this day as the Comet appears, Warlords leading bands of entrepreneuring mercenaries and Lords. Others descend from somewhat ancient blood lines, Kings of old who held their people together through the ruining of an age and came through to see the third.
Perhaps others even hold the republic ideals of old, forming small pockets of idealism in an otherwise grim world. For this was not a world anymore where peace and prosperity acted as a rocket for humanity to soar. In fact those very same humans can be blamed for the state it’s now in. Resources were depleted, especially for the primitive extraction methods of this third age. Rivers and lakes dried up into flatbeds, oceans offering a daunting challenge to any on its coast, and no promise of land beyond. Populations scattered across the entire landmass, eking out an existence in the few verdant spots, or perhaps even adapting to survive in this new age of scarcity and inhospitable environs.
And of course all these reasons bred far more reason and justification for war. However this was far different to the second age, which rapidly experienced the height of artificial destruction before flatlining again. Humans of the third age could rarely pick up the pieces, or even comprehend them. Instead we find something far more organic, and naturally evolving over time. By now states were no longer reduced to fighting with bronze and stone weapons, after the technology of old had been exhausted and lost to knowledge.
Steel and Flesh rule this time, organized and orientated to the feudal societies growing in the wastes. Gallant knights riding expensive horses thunder over the beaten dust of the continent, men-at-arms following behind in blocks of sword and spear. Prized archers string their bows and unleash volleys of arrows into ranks. Far more crazy or perhaps inventive kingdoms use unorthodox methods, primarily those adapted to the harsh realities of the world. Whilst more developed Kingdoms tend to rely on the levy system.
Armies as they knew them were mostly very small, cores of veterans, knights, and unique units relying on larger levys to augment them. Perhaps a few thousand could be mustered by a single Kingdom, and would be considered a large army for this time. Gone were the days where millions clashed over massive targets spanning for leagues. Now war was much smaller, based on careful skirmishing, positioning, and of course decisive battles. Kings generally oversaw a variety of powerful and influential vassals under their throne. The Kingdoms were so small, struggling so hard to survive, that they were usually all a tight knit and intricate system. All this leads to a delicate power play for monarchs, trying to survive, even prosper, in this new age. There are few if any “Empires” or powerful Monarchs. Most find themselves just emerging from centuries of horrible endurance. Suffering war, famine, disease, infighting, disasters of unknown proportions. Smaller Kingdoms, petty states, and tribes of people generally dominate the makeup of the continent’s humans.
The people as we know them in the first year of the Third Age;
By and large a far more unintelligent and debased lot then we’ve ever seen in history before. Their ancestors reportedly surpassed the limits of the planet itself in the search for knowledge. But these people stare up at Adon’s Comet, scratching their heads and squinting in confusion. Literacy was few and far between, knowledge a rare commodity. Though it’s true some fragments of history have come with them into this age, most of what these people know is fire and blood.
However scholars of their time were able to piece together some knowledge of the past. Though looking at it through the lens of study, we can see most of it is highly mythicised. In particular the ‘Empire of Illian’, a republic of massive proportions in the second age. One of the biggest supporters of the age’s ideals, they spread peace and stability throughout the entire world. At their height ambassadors could travel with impunity, considered a worthy addition to any Government. Their technology, libraries, and impact are what led to their name being unforgettable as it echos down the tracts of time. Illian is almost like a new ideal, that people clung to as the world tore itself apart. An ideal some may aspire to now, as the dream of brighter days, while surrounded by inhospitable wastes. Though we could dive further into this illustrious Nation, it can’t be said any of the Third Age truly know much about Illian.
One faction we do know much about however is the ‘Gorans’ , a relatively new faction with ancient roots. They entered the scene some hundred years before the beginning of the Third Age. They were a people of ruthless and blood thirsty dominance in the days of old. A nation of warmongers who helped hasten the demise of the Second Age. A group so terrible they are partially responsible for the breaking of the world. Shermani himself hailed from this nation. Ironically, they have no records or knowledge of this grim past in their current state. After so long losing so much, their people had regressed to the point of a migratory tribe.
With little knowledge of their past, and uncertainty in the future, these people renounced violence, and most civilization. Most had been scarred by the centuries of war, genetically as well as mentally/physically. There were people suited to the harsh realities of the wastes in between pockets of life. They grew smaller, far more skinny and agile, relying on very little water to keep them going. They grew into tribes, and continued the policy of migration. However they soon learned to pick up the tactic of trade caravans, heading from city to city. Few dare to brave the wastes, and these mercantile peoples were eager to seize that opportunity.
The Gorans are now synonymous with wealth and trade. They can be found most anywhere, and one can consider himself lucky if one of their caravans finds them on the wastes. Pacifist in nature, they don’t carry weapons, or much in the way of defense. Their wagons are all brightly painted, led along by some of the finest horses the wastes has to offer. The people themselves dress in a panoply of bright colors, in a variety of intricate or simple designs. Most carry an instrument or good walking stick, and any are invited to their camps to sing and dance. The Ka'Goran Trade Confederation is their most famous achievement, a vastly rich amalgamation of Goran tribes dominating trade heading beyond and to their region of the continent.
The Kingdom of Camadacia is what all regard as the bastion of Chivalry, Knightls, and Lords. A veritable paradise of densely populated land, thriving on one of the last true pockets of paradise on this barren world. Their King, Odilon Langlois Descoteaux, is a man of unrivalled prestige. At just the age of fourteen he bested the regency dominating his Kingdom, uplifting his citizens based off merit to form an effective administration of the realm. With such massive populations centers to rely on, this Kingdom has little to worry in the way of survival. This has led to a flurry of innovations, expeditions for lost knowledge, and powerful martial might.
The Bak-nari Republic is a land and people of mystery. They have only arrived in the past century, considered new blood among the established petty Kings. Their ideals certainly aren't new, as the Republic preaches the ideals of Illian itself. They have engaged in no diplomacy, or trade. Any on the coast can see their scout ships however, always observing, always where they don't think to look.
The HOLY Adonian Order is similarity shrouded in mystery. Their entire city is built around a relic of the second age. A massive building with a long funnel like contraption pointing to the heavens, on their highest peak. The Order has sects all around the continent, praising their messiah, Adon of Illian. A mythical deity like figure, Adon is worshipped as the best leader of men to have ever lived. His tenants are adhered to without exception, and the Order is always looking to expand, and collect relics. They almost live in a different age, secluded in their oasis lake......
Technology as we know it in the first year of the Third Age;
By and large the majority of Kingdom’s in this time rely on very primitive forging and mining techniques. A mine for instance relies almost entirely on human power, with pickaxe and shovel. A forge could range from a backyard urn, to a more refined armorer with all the tools of his trade in a city. What this means is almost all armies are equipped with the simple tools of war. Sword, Lance, Spear, Bow, Crossbow, Javelin, Shield, Leather, Chain, Plate armor. The standard array of war in what we record as the ‘feudal’ times in the mysterious first age.
Architecture and domestic society follow the same feudal lines, castles usually being pure utility. Towns popping up mostly are made of wood, and very rarely more than two stories. Horses, Oxen, and Mules are still the primary method of transportation, hauling wagons and rickshaws with them. Currency is by and large coin based, relying on gold and other rare metals. Bartering is not uncommon however, a valuable tool in the wastes.
Though most of the world follows this lack of knowledge from the past, there are still relics of Power within this new world. Hidden away, jealously guarded, or for a number of reasons they still persist. Objects of intense power and human innovation that most of this Age can hardly comprehend. But occasionally they will figure out how to work it, and the benefits are vast. Most famously known is the HOLY SUIT which lies within the Adonian Order’s grasp. A set of armor similar to plate, however it fully encompasses its user, lending them superb strength and unrivaled protection. The suit however swiftly kills most wearers, the Order deeming them unworthy of its power. They seek a champion who can wield the suit without suffering it’s effects.
Though Relics of Power are highly sought after, perhaps equally as important is the Architecture of the second age. The world had swallowed most of it, humanity destroying the majority of the rest. But every once in a while the stars aligned to preserve a piece of the past. Perhaps an old skyscraper, now a massive insular Kingdom. Or a decaying dam, holding an oasis for any bold enough to find.
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APPLICATIONS
Discord Name (If I don't already have it):
Nation Name:
Nation Government/Leader Rank:
Description of National/Provincial History & Culture:
Notable Characters; [VERY Important to have flushed out RP for vassals, politicians, w.e your government type is. Due to small scale of nations, characters with RP and Lore behind them will have much more impactful actions, will get events, boons, etc:
Unique Military Units (One):
National Idea (nothing strictly mechanical):
Player POI;
3 -
Chapter Awakening [LXIX]
Fell drums boom in the darkness
Clink
Several grunts follow the solid crash of steel on rock. Hardly able to see, cries of pain blend with the sounds of labor. In the darkness, only fog and rats preside. Columns of skulls can be seen in the faded corners of the vault, alongside hundreds of plaques. Where once there had been trophy skulls of Irik warlords, only dust remained.Clink
But the human remains were much more numerous, and harder to destroy. Holokai, lifted to the position of an Order's priest, helped by swinging a pick axe himself. They were deep in the sacred catacombs of the Matareka family. It was here Holokai had plotted with his fellow visionaries. Standing over the graves of dead Lords, they plotted the downfall of their Stellarchy. With the coup complete, he had the privileged of coming back down here. Staring at the empty grave for Mokihi Matareka, he snarls, and begins hacking it to rubble for the factories.
Clink
The last of the graves have been defiled, the skulls pulled down. Men drop their tools, and then drop to their knees. Holokai stands before them, panting with exertion from the labors. His fellow brothers and revolutionaries kneel before him, as well as brothers from other Chapters. Their purpose was one, and this vanguard was but the ember. Once they ascended to the surface, the fire of The Great Purge will begin in earnest.
The rasp of steel on leather can be heard slowly
Holokai examines the knife, appreciating it's craftsmanship. Wickedly curved, the blade was clearly razor sharp. In laser etched script so tiny as to be almost imperceptible, is teachings of the Order. As drums begin to beat in the darkness, Holokai raises the dagger held high, pointed towards him. No words need to be spoken, the Chapter letting his actions speak for him. In two swift motions, Holokai blinds himself with the blade, screaming out his devotion to the shattered skulls and graves of faded Nobility.
Quickly two priest pool his weeping sockets blood into small jars, and daub the Red Eye onto a silken banner of pure white. Raising the banner high, the procession leads their Priest to the surface, to awakening and vision.
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House Matareka Actions
Lord Matareka calls upon the 4th Empire to aid him in ending the House of Bones. After numerous victories both sides are readying for the final confrontation. The Irik have been successfully drawn away from the Empire's borders, and lay deep within their land. If the Empire strikes now in tandem with Lord Matareka, they could hit them from both flanks. He stresses to his Emperor this opportunity will soon pass, and be wasted.
At long last the massive battlefield left over from the Civil War will be thoroughly scouted and inventoried. Salvage operations will begin at once when possible, the priority being battleship hulls.
Furthermore the 3 ruined tech worlds will be surveyed, in the hopes of finding old blueprints to Arc Lances leftover from when Matarekan smiths made them. At the very least they will also see if the worlds can ever be repaired.
The House of Suns is offered a non aggression pact to avoid further bloodshed. House Matareka states "An enemy of Erasmis is a friend of mine"
Financial Actions
[WIP]
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House Matareka
"Technology and Martial Might"
Mokihi Matareka stares up, at the shimmering array of the planetary shields. It could be mesmerizing if one looked, even more so when under bombardment. Thankfully this world was not under threat, they lived in peace. But the Imperial Squire knew there was always a price to pay for such stability. Skyscrapers soar all around him, full of neon lighting, and teeming with life. These people thought their finances kept them safe, never giving a second thought to who protects them. Even on the border, the Matarekas had endeavored to shelter their jewel. Many wondered why money even had any meaning, besieged as they were. But the Capitalist market executives had a good way of clamping down such talk.
Though the shield was all he could see, Mokihi was truly gazing up at something greater. Battlefleet Roko's Legacy hung in orbit above, marshaling for the past two years. While Lord Matareka was away on unexplained ventures, he had tasked his banner-men to rally the standing navy. From across the Stellarchy Captains answered the call to arms. It was true, House Matareka has been lucky not to be attacked for years now. But it was not Mokihi's way to sit idly by and hope to not be remembered. No, he would take the fight to them, to let them know the Third Empire still resist them.
At long last, Roko's Legacy has marshaled in full. These men and officers were some of the finest the Empire has to offer, and have been tempered even further by 50 years of constant war. Just like their leader, they're not one to sit idly by. Morale is soaring as the fleet enters the hyper-lanes, finally, humanity is bringing the war to the Irik again.
Mod Actions
Mokihi Matareka sends a psionic message to loudly resonate throughout the entire galaxy. "House Matareka survives, and brings fire and blood to the Irik. WE WILL NOT PASS QUIETLY INTO THE NIGHT" It is a call to arms, and also a way to grant factions the knowledge needed to communicate with Mokihi Matareka if they desire.
Financial Actions
[From turn 2] Building 10 Transports -25k C, 10 M, 20 NP
1 Destroyer -10k C, 2 M, 4 NP
1 AS -5k C, 2 M, 1 NP
500k Imperial Standard Infantry -25,000 C, 6 AP, 6 M
500k Militia 5,000 C 1 AP 2 M
5 I into House of Bones
[Current Turn]
Building 1 CL -30k C, 20 NP, 6 M
1 Destroyer -10k C, 2 M, 4 NP
1 AS 1 AS -5k C, 2 M, 1 NP
500k Imperial Standard Infantry -25,000 C, 6 AP, 6 M
500k Militia 5,000 C 1 AP 2 M
10 I into House of Bones
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Grimbeard kills all the elves talking here, it's now canon.
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House Matareka
"Technology and Martial Might"
His very essence melds with the stars at speeds most couldn't fathom. The inky void of space was lost to human concepts of time, or distance. Ever shooting forward, past glistening stars, and barren worlds. Searching for a single spark, lost to all. A slight tingling changes the direction of his consciousness, honing in on the spark. What was once a distant speck now becomes the flaming brand of a human mind. Brushing up against it, his consciousness conveys feelings of satisfaction, enhancing what was already there.
With a gasp, Mokihi Matareka comes out of his trance. He is surrounded by aides and squires, dutifully recording the test. "Col reports they made contact, even with the distance increased" one mutters, the rest scribbling notes. "Let's try again, but far-"
"Enough" Mokihi snaps tiredly. Sighing, he puts his fingers to the bridge of his nose as a migraine comes on. "We have done enough" He says again, this time more amicably. With a groan he gets to his feet, waving off offered help. "We should be there by now" He idly mutters as he heads out of his meditation rooms. They were nestled in the heart of Redemption, the Capital ship to Lord Roko's legacy as the fleet is now called. For once the Irik houses lay quiet, focused on other far greater wars.With the reprieve for at least this year, Mokihi was determined to get to the bottom of odd reports. They originated from a derelict mining world, one of many. But the rumors and tales were nothing but ordinary. The Imperial Squire himself has taken it upon himself to investigate, and who knows what he'll find....
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Mod Actions
POI 13 is explored by Mokihi Matareka onboard his Capital Ship Redemption. They will follow the leads to whatever point of interest has been causing so much speculation.
When not busy with the investigation, Mokihi continues practicing his Psionic ability as he has for all his life. He continually tires to reach farther and farther across the void to his Captain acting as a test subject on a separate ship. The goal being to hone his abilities to the point he can actually reach other minds on ships across the void, for combat or otherwise.
5 Influence is invested into the House of Suns.
5 Influence is invested into Erasmis's Domain
Financial Actions
Building Crown Ship CA 60,000C + 25NP + 9M + 2A +2T
Recruiting 10k Artillery -10kC, 5AP, 4M, 3A
Recruiting 1 Million Infantry [Militia] 10kC, 2 AP, 4M
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House Matareka
"Technology and Martial Might"
A brief description of National/Provincial History & Culture: Once they almost considered themselves a part of the core. Safe, sheltered from the true brutality of the Galaxy. A pillar of technology and learning. Where any can come, to study, to innovate. Such wonders like the Arc Lance spawned from their minds. Sure every generation some Matarekan lord would lead men to battle with the Irik. But that was far away, on some nameless world. A far cry from the past, when they were the frontier against the xeno. When Warrior-Kings led their crude star ships into battle with an even cruder foe. When the Imperials of Kaumai were alive and endorsing them. Many reminisce for that time, that Kingdom.
Regardless of the recent or far past, now is only war and death. When Erasmis first decided to return from the dead, none could stand in his path. With Lord Regent Ihorangi recently dead, all sense of order fractured in his realm. Though retainers and nobles tried to stand, they were trodden over. The entirety of Matarekan space was subdued, they became a conduit for millions of Xenos to pour through into the Core. For years every world became a personal hell, and struggle for survival. Every noble left to fend for himself on his private estates.
It all soon changed with the arrival of a new contender. Mokihi Matareka, bearing the Emperor's Blade, and at the head of Lord Roko's former fleet, has returned. He gave battle to the various Irik clans, challenging many to Krull Vatok in his anger at Ran-Ji's passing. The Imperial Squire and his Noble fleet became a rallying cry for worlds sector wide. Soon the scattered nobles and their people became more and more unified.
Matarekan space truly became solidified with the arrival of a mysterious figure some time ago. "The Bastard of Buath" Holokai Matareka arrived in the cargo hold of a smuggler's ship. Between the Squire and Bastard, they have managed to bring their sector into an actual bloc of resistance against the various Irik warlords. A carefully preserved pocket of Third Imperial rule and government, surrounded on all sides by foe.
Notable Characters:
Mokihi Matareka, Imperial Knight, Lord of House Matareka, Kavan Te of the Imperial Armies
From a young age it was clear he was a psionic of note for the family. He was groomed for an Imperial life, diving into the layers of Matarekan schooling from an early age. Soon enough though Mokihi was whisked away for life on the Imperial Capital of Kaumai. It was there Lord Ihorangi hopes his nephew could truly come into his own within the Third Empire. Emperor Ran-Ji took a personal interest in Mokihi, at Lord Matareka's insistence. When he became old enough, Mokihi became Squire for the Emperor, and was brought under his wing. Schooled as both a Psionic and Warrior, Mokihi was something of a silent busy body. An Imperial Shade many jokingly called him, but he always as watching, and learning.
The turning point of his life culminated in the infamous Krull Vatok between Ran-Ji and Erasmis. Bearing his Lord's blade, Mokihi attended the party back to Kaumai. There he stood by his unconscious Lord day an night, praying. In the final days, Lord Ihorangi's betrayal reached even Mokihi. The foul serpent wanted his Psionic family member as an asset for his evacuation. The Imperial Squire was misled, ordered to a remote world on the edge of the Core to attend Admiral Sorin. In reality Lord Ihorangi just wanted him somewhere safe for retrieval, as the Core falls.
What came next was the death of his Emperor, a death Mokihi gladly would of shared had he been there. In the blinding rage that followed he was given a single ship from Sorin as a nod of respect. From there Mokihifound Roko's leaderless fleet, floundering. The rest is history, as a Squire became Knight, leading the best of the Imperial Navy on a quest for redemption.
Holokai Matareka, The Bastard of Buath, Tanu Kavan of Imperial politics.
A mysterious figure originating from Buath, he has taken it upon himself to launch a personal crusade. His ruthless rule as Tanu Kavan has all been to atone for the sins of his family and cursed mother. Every action is just in his eyes, and the means justify the ends. While his cousin plays at war, the Bastard remains at home to run an entire isolated society. It is because of him none starve, and the factories churn. Few know his true history.
Unique Military Units (Two):
Ahorangi Pikes [Elite Heavy Infantry]; Ever since even the steel age the Pikemen have been a useful military arm of House Matareka. They still proudly bear the name of their Ancestors when they march to war. These Heavy Infantry are brutal shock units, catering to close range styles of war. They prefer Arc Blades and Power Armor, a costly but effective armament for their tactics. As well as shot guns, smgs, and other close range projectiles. They excel in boarding, orbital deployment into hot zones, and acting as shock infantry on the front lines of large scale wars.
These men are professional Irik killers, having fought them for centuries. In more recent years it has been their only enemy, their sole focus. These men do best when deployed against Irik.
Overhauled Heavy Cruisers 'Crown Ships'; Matareka's own line of Heavy Cruisers, evolved entirely around the harsh demands of their survival. These ships unique trait comes from the Matarekan Arc weapons of the past, giving this ship a far heavier punch. Besides their unique main weapons, these ships fully lean into the role of budget capital ships. Usually having to act as the main heavy ship of a Matarekan fleet, boasting far more health.
National Idea (nothing strictly mechanical): "The Imperial Knight and Squire"
Mokihi is a [3] Psionic after a lifetime of war, and former tutelage under Emperor Ran-Ji. He has been called a Mind-Bender ironically, but not after the style of Erasmis. For his powers have developed into far more subtle twisting of the mind. Even Ran-Ji may have struggled to rival the power of emotional manipulation Mokihi can achieve. His soldiers reach fever levels of zeal in battle, politicians find themselves amicably agreeing with their Lord. In battle enemies find themselves confused, shooting at targets only they see, or even turning on one another. It's clear his life has crystallized his powers into something special, and it only seems to be growing.
Under Mokihi's tutelage he has taken a new squire. A fledgling [1?] psionic, recently rushed into the ranks of the army in it's desperation. On the battlefield Mokihi recognized this child's potential, taking him under his wing. In a repetition of history, the once squire now has his own charge to care for.
A letter: H
0 -
Daichi Clans
Trouble stirs within the Sacred Forest, unsettling all it's denizens. The Emperor in his infinite mercy had tried to ensure sanctuary for all. Unfortunately the Sky Beast were not all so willing, and the bloodshed has continued. With the races over, the Administration has had a moment to finally relax. With Iwamoto no longer blocking the way, full action will be taken. The Daichi banners are raised as the fleets take to the skies to fight!
Mod Actions
The wonderful discovery within the Sacred Tree of Life has led to furious activity. Around the clock crews will begin to excavate the more buried segments. In areas already uncovered, scientist, engineers, and other great minds will join together to survey the lab from top to bottom. No stone will go unturned as they bisect the lab and record their findings. Linguist will focus on the ancient scripts, as their combined efforts lead to more discovery.
The Emperor's tour of the Archduchy of Tyrel was one of memorable occasion. The Emperor's tour culminated in him meeting as many Tyrellan Lords and Ministers as he could find. He spends the time well, trying to gain friends. The House of Commons in particular captures his heart, he is known to spend many days there studying. So completely satisfied, Emperor Iwamoto Katsumore proposes to the Tyrel House of Commons and their Arch-Duke Kassadan for a personal Imperial marriage to the Duchy's heir. He warmly invites the House of Commons to send a delegation to his own land to begin forming a government modeled after their own moderate one, should they accept the marriage. It's clear Iwamoto Katusmore wishes to join the houses in marriage, and the lands in alliance, by taking a Tyrel bride as Empress.
The entire Navy takes to the skies to confront the Sky Beast threat! Every Draker within reach is given the opportunity for another round of contracts. It's clear this time they can have far more leniency hunting, provided they pay up. The combined efforts will focus on culling the aggressive Sky Beast populations to levels manageable by local communities. The fleet sticks close together, protecting the carrier, and using their superior tactics to herd and eliminate Sky beast. The Emperor still reserves some hope that passive ones will come to enjoy living here. [1 Carrier, 2 CL, 9 DD, 200 Unique Akiko Air Superiority Planes + Nat Idea Augmentation]
A new monastery is soon to be built dedicated to The Ways. It shall be nestled amidst the roots of the Sacred Tree, and dedicated to students pursuing Nirvana. In truth this will be the first Imperial sponsored school, for potential Psionic disciples. Agents will search the land to bring potentials back here, to be taught and trained by priests. [7k Cash invested to help]
The 'Kempeitai' is formed by a direct response of the Mitsukiki labs and Oilgarchs. Powerful lobbyist, they offered to fund a Imperial Secret Police. Officers and men will be selected from the best of the Specialist Infantry, to be trained in covert counter intelligence. This 1st class begins recruitment and training! [7k Cash invested to help]
A Freighter carrying a team of explorers departs for the POI on the western isles near the end of the continents peninsula. An area that has been a vested interest of the Daichi clans, they will finally officially explore it.
Financial Actions
Income; 75,950 C, 2 S, 1 G, 2 V, 2 L, 3 TP
Selling 3 Steel. 3 Grain, 3 Vitriol to Global Market.
10k Infantry -1 AP, 5k C
6 Destroyers -2 NP, 15k C
1 Freighter -1 NP, 2.5k C
1 Trade Depot -2 M, 12.5k C
1 Civilian District -1 M, 10k C
2 Material Industry 20k C
Treasury; 15,950 C
0 -
Daichi Clans
Akira Branch "Those of the Light"
Iwamoto grunts in surprise as he barely deflects the bite of a Katana to his throat. An audible clang fills the air, as he raises his own blade just in time. Around them a small crowd mutters in shock or appreciation. Though this was the most powerful assembly of Daimyo in the Empire, they too are dwarfed by the surroundings. For they sit and lounge amidst the Great Tree, reduced to little more than ants. A suitable place, for an Emperor to train. And that was something Iwamoto ensured was done every day.
"You have something on your mind today" Tengre bluntly states with a chuckle as he back peddles from his failed strike. Ignoring the spectators who are at a respectful distance, he continues. "Is it because the Drakers have come to do the necessary?" In response Iwamoto grunted angrily, going on the offensive. Tengre always had a way of cutting to the heart of things. Ever since he had stumbled up to the Citadels gates, from the wastelands.
"You know it is." Iwamoto calls out as he strikes once, twice. "They have almost been hunted to extinction. What if our forest was treated the same? Should we allow outsiders to come and wantonly kill what is possibly the last of a breed?" Tengre replies with a sharp laugh, parrying the blade, and shouldering into the Emperor. He staggers back, shaking his head in surprise, as Tengre calls out;
"They ravage the land and people, it's with good reason we do my Majesty." Giving the young man some time to recover, Tengre regains the momentum and attacks, lashing out lightning quick. As Iwamoto backpedals and parries, he replies heatedly. "Just because man has taken to the skies, we do not earn the right to slaughter animals who have always been there. I will find a way as this lands Keeper. The Ways work mysteriously, we shall not be one to slaughter a part of it"The Emperor stops, realizing he was shouting by the end. Tengre, ever the stalwart, lay on one knee, sword sunk in rich soil. The spectators whisper among one another, opinions wildly varying. "If that is your will" Tengre mutters, still kneeling until Iwamoto gestures sharply for him to rise.
"It's the will of The Ways, remember that Tengre." The Emperor says hefting his katana on a shoulder, striding back to the Palace......--
MOD ACTIONS
The Emperor dispatches a party of Imperial Samurai to investigate the mysterious entryway into the Great Tree. Several scientist, botanist, and one particularly good Bonsai sculptor accompany them to provide possible insight.
A party of reputable Daimyo acting as envoys travel to the Arch-Duchy of Tyrel. They thank the Nation for it's proffered support, and warmly agree. More importantly the Emperor Iwamoto Katsumore expresses he has had a long vested interest in their way of Government. The new model blend of classes in Government, and dispersed power was something his own 'Empire' heavily endorsed. In Summary he implores the Arch-Duke to allow him to personally study and tour the land. Furthermore a formal Pact of Non Aggression is offered, and the Empire expresses it's willingness to evolve it into an alliance of mutual defense if the Emperor's visit goes well for both parties.
Until the Arch-Duke agrees, the Emperor spends his time training with local blade masters and Samurai. It is made known around the land any aspiring Blademasters wishing to teach can apply at the palace.
In response to the Sky Beast, the Emperor issues a proclamation via priest of The Ways. Being an almost extinct race, they are given sanctuary within the Sacred Forest. Any foreign Drakers must stop to be processed at the 'Northern' Citadel to obtain permits to hunt any aggressive beast. Priest and Hermits rumored to be steeped in Pskyer powers and The Ways are implored by the Katsumore to reach out to the beast with the powers of the Sacred Forest and Tree. To show the Sky Beasts there's a chance to live in harmony with mankind within the forest. Regrettably any aggressive Sky Beast will be met with the full response of the Katsumore Home Fleet, Drakers, and Tyrel aid. Though it is hoped it will not come to that for all of them.
While the Home Fleet potentially has it's hand's full, the newly branded Colonial 1st set out! Their operation will be two fold, requiring two separate groups. The 1st leg of the journey includes the Empire claiming new land, on southern islands that were until now unobtainable. The land shall be scouted, in anticipation of a city. [Numbers TBA]
The 2nd group shall travel even further, on the first ever state sanctioned mission of exploration in the New World. Their duty for now is to simply map the best routes, and observe the coast of never before seen lands. Far smaller and agile than the settlement group, these men are ready for the hardships of extended flight in unknown skies.[Numbers TBA]
A team of civilian hikers, and climbers have been contracted for a state mission. They shall travel up the Asahi river, all the way to it's source. A mostly mysterious area, none have ever really bothered to follow the river all the way up. This ambitious mission will map the last of the unknown parts in the entire Sacred Forest. The Western Diachians are invited to send a hiking team for the sake of equality. [Exploring Northern River POI]
Research Actions
[Conducted within Mitskukiki POI Lab] Slot 1; Not to be outdone my mere Varnyan armorers, the sterling RnD team from Mitsukiki vow to unleash their own line of personal combat armor. Dubbed "KOMODO" suits they shall protect soldiers from even the bite of a bullet in combat situations. The suit shall of course be stylized to fit a Samurai's needs, and rigorous enough for both the trials of boarding and trench combat.
Slot 2; REDACTED
Financial Actions
Income; 42,850 C, 1 S, 2 M, 2 G, 1 V, 1 L
Selling 3 Steel to Global market
1 Light Cruiser -15k C, 3 NP
1 Military Industry -7.5k C, 1 M
1 Civilian District -10k C, 1 M
1 Material Industry -10k C
Treasury 350 C
1 -
Nation Customization
Imperial Musicians Fill the halls with a tune
Nation Name: Daichi Clans ["Akira" Branch of Katsumore Clan]
Iwamoto's Personal Symbol:
Culture: The Daichian peoples populate two separate realms. Daichians typically are pale to white skinned, with darker hair and eye coloring. Though they tend to be on the small side in stature and build, this is not always the case. These people are as zealous and as fevered as it gets, making excellent soldiers. The Daichian's are no strangers to hardship and have been tempered by centuries of conflict and warfare. Despite hard lives, the people have a reputation of living incredible amounts of time, much longer than an average person. Honor and bringing further prestige to ones family is all an average Daichian can hope to accomplish in their lifetime.
History: Inouye 'Akira' Katsumore was an honorable, and unyielding man. It's true many accredit more prestige to his Father, the great Uniter. Before his father's death, he and his brother, Takahashi, never could quite find even ground to stand on. Inouye spent his time adventuring with sons of Daimyo, even Merchants to all's disgust. Takahashi would watch from his Imperial studies as his wild brother chased loose horses, or conducted mischief on the guards.
As the two grew, so too did the divide between them. It all culminated with the death of their father, the great Sagara-Moto Katsumore, the Dragon Emperor and uniter of the Daichi Clans. The Civil War bored Inouye for a long time, and he focused little of his writings on it. What was important to him was what he was building;
For the Akira Branch of the Katsumore Family is a blend of old and new. Though Inouye claimed to be Emperor like his brother, he never truly filled the role with as much zeal. He and his extremely reputable coterie of Daimyo tended to share the power and responsibility of state. Champions, legendary lords, wealthy merchants, reputable Samurai, they all flocked to Inouye's banner, for he offered equal treatment and opportunity. By the time the final duel of the Brothers came to be, the Akira Branch is a wealthy, yet de-centralized state.
With Inouye's death, the mantel now falls on Iwamoto Katsumore. Only twenty one years of age, he strength relies on clan holdings, and his Father's powerful array of Daimyo lords. Some saw the death as opportunity, and Iwamoto's first years of rule revolved around reigning in his disloyal lords. Now only time will tell if this 'Emperor' and his council of Daimyo can adapt and survive.
Unique Military Units (Max 3):
Battle Carriers [Unique "Support" Carrier]; The Daichi always believe in getting as much use as one can out of their tools, slaves, and women. Battle Carriers are an entirely new, and unique breed of Airship that solely the Daichi can claim. Though classified as Support Carriers, these airships are also outfitted for Ship to Ship engagements. Massively Up-armored, Battle Carriers are designed to join in on the fighting and deploy strategic fighters/bombers, all the while engaging with their main guns at relatively close range. This ensures it is a very short trip for the air wings launching into battle, able to scramble right into the fight.
In the colonial game these ships also excel. Requiring very little supporting wings, these ships can police large spans of colonial territory. Able to carry aerial wings and a marine compliment. But also carry it's own weight in a fight, these ships make the ideal aggressive Airship the Clans need.
Mitsukiki 0-A1 Aeroplanes. [Unique Air Superiority Fighter]; The Mitsukiki industries outdid themselves with the launch of this new line of Aeroplanes. The Dragons or 0's as they're being called are built for the purpose of dominating the skies in Fighter Vs Fighter engagements. The frames themselves are designed with the intention of evolution as Aerial technology rapidly unfolds.
Alongside adaptability, what makes theses planes so special is their complex Vitriol engines and 'Dragon Lances'. Taking what's meant for entire Airships and downsizing it to an Aeroplane was no easy task. But these engines offer incredible burst of speed, and climbing for the 0's. Some have even used these incredible burst of speed as a final action, sparking the first hints of a 'Kamikaze' Pilot.
While dedicated to dogfights primarily, every 0's frame is outfitted to hold one long specially designed torpedo. It's weight, size, and all other specs are heavily reduced to allow the planes to still perform optimally. Alone one Lance couldn't do too much damage against an Airship unless expertly placed. But entire flights of 0's trained to unleash volleys can result in devastating effects for an Airship underestimating these fighters.
Imperial Ronin [Unique Specialist Infantry]; Soldiers similar to their Western Daichi counterpart, yet also different. These elite Ronin Samurai are the finest in the all of Iwamoto's holdings. These men are fanatic zealots, typically wielding close range weapons for increased shock. Most famously, they are known for the deadly Katana, versions modified for trench warfare easily shearing through flesh and armor alike.
Excelling in trench warfare as shock infantry, these soldiers have also expanded their operations with the advent of Aerial war. Now it is rumored some classes teach operations conducted not on land, but in the skies themselves. A true Samurai now finds his blade will be best used in the clouds, high above the mud and guts of regular war.
National Idea: "Vitriol Airsmith Masters"
Airships of the Clan are unlike any other line or model thanks to the expert Aerial craftsmen of the Empire. Quite like the Airsmiths of The Bound Constellation, these airships are structurally overhauled and dedicated. Where some revere stealth, the Empire has opted for straight forward power and armor. Clan ships engines and frames are uniquely made to handle far larger amounts of armor, some of it even sloped craftily to deflect, and bigger engines specifically designed to power these ships for long terms, or short burst of speed in battle. This also allows for boarding to be much easier at the close ranges for the legions of trained Ronin Samurai.
Point of Interest: Mitsukiki R&D Factory
With the explosion of technology, the Diachian's find themselves nearly at the forefront of innovation, evolution, and development. Already their Airships can be qualified as a breed on it's own. Truly a Beacon of Innovation, Mitsukiki Motors is the crown jewel of that claim. A nation spanning Company they make everything from toy cars to engines capable of lifting an Up-Armored Dreadnought. Their newest line of Fighters is quite possibly the envy of the world.
To Accommodate all this progress they have gradually built up a Factorial Lab custom tailored to go hand in hand with their researching needs. This state of the art lab is where all the new motors are designed, tested, and implemented. From this Factory and Lab knowledge pours out into the entire land, enriching them all.
National Traits:
Naval Focus
Agrarian State
Beacon of Innovation
Deficiency; Grain
Air Power
Carrier Doctrine
Colonial Economic Focus
Map Location:
1 -
Maritime Federal Commonwealth
New Prospect, city of dreams! Any hour of the day come experience a city that doesn't rest. The people live cheek and jowl, in a host of state of the art housing. Stunning vistas along the coast, witness the dockside hoors perform daring maneuvers right in port. The bazaars and restaurants on the docks not to your fancy? Well head further into this jungle, and see what you find! A Westmarkian con man sneezing over some Tsarinas? A ritzy Munzenberger, singing in his home language as he drunkenly shimmies down the street. Come to the swing clubs, and find any number of exotic women waiting to serve YOU! The church says it's the city of sin, we say it's the city of wins.
-Traveler's Guide to The Commonwealth; Pg 4 part III "Unsavory Savoring of The Capital!"
Not far from the capital, there lies a less traveled section of the Great Road. On it’s side is a ramshackle little wooden fort. Not even worthy of palisades, it has simple earthen ramparts. Hardly a glorious posting for a general, but someone had to keep an eye on the roads. For it’s here Brigadier General Charlie Sullivan finds himself. With hardly a fight to go around, it seems the Commonwealth is struggling to find it’s Officer cadre postings.
He was resolute not to take the duty lightly, no matter how boring. Making the most of it Sullivan brings his entire command staff, and some Rangers. They made the camp as orderly as they could, cracking the garrison into shape. There were even a few sharp skirmishes, the sounds echoing back to the fort. Just a few highwaymen, easy prey for Redding Rangers. Unusual long range missions head out, wagons in tow full of supplies for the men. This pattern has played out most of the winter, the Roads iced over.
With the arrival of Spring, travel has picked up significantly. One of the first arrivals is a messenger thundering up to the Fort. Dismounting, he lets some privates lead the lathered horse away. He pauses, straightening his jacket and breathing deep. Then with a nod from the sentry’s he’s allowed into Sullivan's headquarters after being led past the palisades.
“Get me another damn barrel! I don’t care how m-” The voice cuts off as they notice the new arrival. Corporal Sam Mays gulps nervously, taking in the sight. A red faced General Charles was looming over a poor beleaguered Quartermaster. Behind them were several barrels of wine, stacked up neatly.
“Leave” The General barks at the Quartermaster, noticing Sam’s Federal Courier Insignia. A lofty position for up and coming recruits, younger men are given the honor before they properly enter the Army. Sullivan pulls out his chair and sits, motioning for Sam to do the same. He picks it up, from where the Quartermaster knocked it over on his flight out. “Made me bust my ass an entire winter out here.” Sullivan grumbles.
Corporal Mays looks from the general to the wine, skeptical. However he ignores the comment, and clears his throat before saying. “Erhm Sir, I don’t know what General you expected to hear from. But I bring word from the Prime Minister himself.” Sam pauses. As if the message confused him. Grumbling, Sullivan plows over whatever question he’s about to ask. “Just tell me what he wants me to drink”
“The Wine, Sir” He says with a sigh as General Sullivan cackles.
“You know what I see, Cooke?” said President Harriman, a smoldering cigar snatched between two fingers as he stood atop the marble, third floor balcony of his island manor.
“The mainland, Mister President?” asked Cooke skeptically. Cooke had long been majordome of Harriman’s household, serving two generations before him. Harriman valued the old man’s wisdom, knowing more about his father than he, sometimes. His father too was a politician, serving a respectable tenure as governor of New Vernon. Though, Harriman Jr.’s ascent to the presidency had been unprecedented, as he captivated crowds of young men and women, with promises of a better tomorrow.
Though, how about today? Harriman wondered. Sure, he could steer clear of conflict and leverage the Commonwealth’s markets to forge strong ties to the Broken Coast- but no President had ever been remembered for preventing wars, rather the wars they executed. This has always lingered on Harriman’s mind, as he turned towards Cooke. “I see potential, Mister Cooke. I see lands who have been too long shackled to the whims of the few. I see many souls barred from participation in government, by nature of their lowly birth.”
“The status quo for countless centuries, Mister President. The Broken Coast is a cruel place.”
“Cruel, yes.” Harriman contemplates, gazing towards the sound. “Lost? No. I cannot give the people of the Broken Coast freedom. But I can certainly provide an environment in which they aspire.”
“You there!” screams the foreman at a lone worker. His face is stained a charcoal gray, along with the faces of all of the rest of the workers scrambling through grinding conveyor belts and raging infernos within furnaces. “Don’t just stand there, grab a broom!” He says, pointing at a decrepit, stale broom which looked as if it had been years since it merely touched. “And clean your face, look a bit presentable for the big boss will ya?” The worker gets tossed a towel, that in its prime had been a woolly white, its fibers now ever-more permeated with the gray-scale particulates of the steel industry.
He buries his face in the rag, as an escape from the chaotic reality around him. His shift had started only 2 hours ago. By now, he ought to be pouring the molten alloys into their molds, for the next godforsaken man in the chain. Now, Joseph Winthrop is visiting? Why this mill, out of all the rest? “The hell are you doing, sleeping? I told you to get the broom!” The serenity he created within the towel abruptly ends, as it's yanked from his hand, and then it's used to berate him in the direction of the broom. Foreman has never been like this, his consciousness retorts. Nonetheless, his hands grip the cracked wooden shaft of the broom, and he begins maneuvering the small depositions of ash and dirt that are commonplace on the stone floor of the mill. That is until the orchestral harmony of hammer swinging, grunting, and the metallic cringe of saws penetrating sheets of iron stop. The hums of voices decrescendos into silence, and the unstill, soiled heads of the employees stop moving, turning, and bobbing. The only thing audible is the growls of the famished furnace, and the whir of the machinery around them.
At the entrance of the mill, a group of people. Well dressed, and groomed, a stark contrast between the men in the mill. They all have on expensive dress suits from Barkum and Brothers, a prestigious tailor operating only in the capitol, providing the suits for many of the politicians of the Republic. Some have flimsy monocles they prop up to their eyes with soft, delicate hands. Others, long top hats, made with furs caught in the countryside. Some, bear elaborate mustaches, gelled up and maintained. The man of the hour, though, lies in the center of the group, flanked by the rest. He is a stout man, with a long defining beard. He has a hat, which he promptly removes as he enters the mill, exposing a balding head. His eyes briefly survey the cimmerian faces of those before him. The white of their eyes, and the resplendent blue and green glows of their pupils, being the brightest and most noticeable features in the bleak factory. The employees wait for something to happen. Beady eyed, this is the closest experience many of them will ever have with true wealth. Will he speak? Will he smile? The richest man in the nation, before us. Perhaps he will give us the day off?
The men at the entrance murmur amongst themselves, but Winthrop continues to glare, seemingly judging the men. Disgust overtakes his face, as he procures a silk, gold engraved handkerchief from one of his pockets, and covers his nose and mouth with it. He turns heel, and trots out of sight of the entrance, and the workers.
And with that, life returns to the mill, and the music of the industrial symphony begins to fill the air once again, as it always had, for the last 17 years the mill has been in operation.
Research; The Commonwealth seems invigorated by the possibility the Westerveld "Train" offers. They seek to emulate it's splendor, heading to the boards. Dedicated teams guided by a Development and Research Committee crack their knuckles and dive right in.
Westerveld itself is asked if they will hep their democratic cousin in this innovation! A generous favor would certainly be owed to them after.
Mod Actions
Concordat Envoys are invited to the Capital of New Prospect by Prime Minister Issac Edwards.
The Church is asked if they wish the rights to build a museum/chapel within the Capital of New prospect. A city where real estate is prime, it's a high honor. The city planners hope it can be accessible to all members of the public, to pray, and witness the history of The Outsiders. It's made clear this is a more private venture, not Federally endorsed or funded. Instead petitioned by dozens of City representatives, Ministers in the city, wealthy faithful, and hundreds of common citizens. It's hoped eventually a Federal grant would also be issued to further fund whatever the Church invest.
The first ever Global Fair is announced, to be hosted by the bustling Commonwealth! In a years time nations across the world are invited to attend. Within the fair nations are asked to show off their latest technology, gadgets, artifacts, anything they deem useful enough to show off for prestige. There will be festivals, a grand prize for the winner of the Fair's best invention, and even hints of a Race and contest of sports!
Any citizens fleeing from the Kemp civil war's aftermath are allowed into The Commonwealth on strict protocols. Soldiers will detain refugees at the border, for a week long screening process. Any deemed safe to live in The Commonwealth are allowed the chance to earn citizenship provided they work. Any Nobles fleeing will be far more discreetly taken, and held in safe houses for the President to review.
Finance Actions
Boosting M production.
58,900 total income
-11,000 C, 4 M (x2 Foundry)
-28,000 C, 14 M (x14 Manufactory)
-4,500 C (x3 Transports)
-5,000 C, 10 S (x5 Medium Infantry)
400 C, 16 S, 22 GP, 8 F treasury0 -
Application to Join
Group Name: 'Lost Platoon'
Starting Point allocation;
Manpower: 3
Supplies: 4
Weapons: 3Starting Location: Jamestown Island, off the city of Newport. [Don't have map editor atm.]
The Lost Platoon is the 30 survivors of Platoon D, 2nd Company, 401st Special Forces Response Regiment. The S.F.R.R for short was a patch work of any highly trained and available military member lumped together. In the later months of the infection they were all that was left of the U.S Spec ops. While the regular army fought and died in massive battles with infected hordes, the 401st worked behind the scenes. They were the ones forced to deal with wiping out entire populaces as containment.
All that is in the past now, D Platoon is simply trying to survive. They comprise several special forces members, and a large amount of marines, naval officers, and red cross liaisons. The Platoon finds itself trapped on Jamestown island, after a failed attempt to find proper vessles.
1
Annals of Anduvia (OOC)
in Forum Roleplay
Posted · Edited by GrimBeard
The Valaran Freehold
& Order of the Golden Scale
Ambiance
RACE: The dominant race in the world and Empire, HUMAN. Praise BE to ST. RALEK for ushering our race into the role of master upon Ilhder's landing.
MAGIC / SORCERY: The Cult Of The DRAGON
LONG DESCRIPTION / HISTORY: This branch of the Sedorvans can trace their lineage as far back as before the horrible shearing. House Valara was once a proud and powerful Kingdom, in close relation to the former Realm. Their coastal cities and rich trade fleets were veins upon which the blood of trade flowed. Perhaps their downfall was their riches, as they lost touch with their might. Heirs were few and far between, Nobles preferring to carouse, and enact their will on consorts or ladies of the night. Very seldom was a legitimate heir proclaimed. In this start and stop progression of state, the Shearing found the Valarans unwanting. It's rumored before the Shearing, echoes of it's coming could be heard from some. One such entity is claimed to have hinted warnings for the Valaran Lord. He never spoke of what was said, or the cost visited upon him for it. Nevertheless, it seems that even with foresight, the Lord quickly passed away. His experience never to be shared. All he left to this decaying world was a single daughter, of unparalleled beauty. A pampered and rich life had left her empty on the inside. But to all appearances she was a trophy worthy of the ages.
Seeing this, in his eternal wisdom, was an older relative of St. Ralek. A man of legendary proportions, and closely related to St. Ralek's father himself. House Valara offered a way to bind them to the Sedorvans, but also give this less powerful and notable branch a leg up. As such the first recorded name to survive the shearing, Vindos Sedorva, was wed to Ilyena Valara. The 'Years of False Summer' predating the true start of the Shearing were one of splendor, love, and happiness.
And then, The Shearing.
Death, Destruction, Loss, Grief, Terror, all fitting words to describe this time. And even though this remains the darkest day for the Valarans, it's also paralleled with a silver lining. For their house was no more. Their child was a true Sedorvan, like his father. The ancient House of Valara had been left to die with The Shearing. And they had left quite the gift to their Sedorvan heirs. For their trade fleets, large navies, and ample resources translated well for the flight. Many of their Ilk and people were able to be loaded onto ships, alongside large portions of wealth, food, and water. As such in the six years of voyage to come, they were as well off as possible on the harrowing trek.
Vindos, his bride Ilyena, and their son landed alongside St. Ralek, and many others of their family. They had survived, and entered these strange lands with a small realm's worth of power packed in their ships. Up to 9 AS they helped St. Ralek in his conquest of the plains folk, helping to carve out a beachhead for humanity. They take part in the establishment of the Holiest of Cities, Sendil. However while St. Ralek and his Blades marched to war, Vindos remained behind. He and his wife were administrators, not warriors. They helped the refugees flooding in, planned the cities growth according to St. Raleks wishes, and ensured a stable rule on the annexed lands.
It was along this order of law and stability that Vindos's biggest problem arose. For a beast of legends, one to haunt children at bedtime, was terrorizing the Imperial Capital. A Dragon, beast of damnation, eater of holds. Many had tried to slay it, in battle and ambush. None had succeeded. With ever growing tales of St. Ralek's glory returning to the Capital, Vindos, in his pride, sought to match his relative. And so he, his son, and a coterie of their finest warriors set out. Hardened by the Shearing, enduring from the Voyage, and tempered by the years of rule, this brave party sets out for Torian's Peak. Named after the first explorer to crest it upon the Landing, this mountain invoked a sense of awe in the Sedorvans.
Their first battle was Torian's Peak itself. A large mountain dominating the woods and plains in all directions. There was no artificial help, simply a rugged cliff face. Never the less after much loss they make it to the top, and the Dragon's lair.......
Vindos and his son return to the Capital, alone. Held between them is a Golden scale, off the Dragon they had battled. At grievous loss they had managed to drive the Dragon from it's lair. It was seen by the pair flying far to the east, tail betwixt it's legs. Excited at this victory, Vindos ordered the entire wealth of his Branch to be packed up. Tens of thousands of refugees flooding in from the sea were rounded up to be employed. And so they return to Torian's Peak, at the head of a massive caravan.
From here on out the historical tales of the Sedorvan Branch fall into obscurity and rumor. Using their vast wealth, year by year, a path is carved up to the Mountains crest. There a Fort is built, directly over the lair of the Dragon. The workers, vassals, and refugees flocking to Vindos live at the base of the mountain, in various temporary settlements. Every year they grow, in both population, housing, and size. The Sedorvans are often gone, off exploring the corners of the continent. And they do not always return alone.... Vindos, the first Wyvern rider, introduced this power to his people long ago. He and his son returned from an expedition, both mounted on their own Wyverns. A few hatch-lings in tow, they began to form their Retinue of the skies.
For decades, a century, the Sedorvans ruled and grow in Isolation. Whenever St. Ralek calls, they would answer with full force. But besides that they simply grew stronger in their slice of the Imperial Core. Until the present day, where man made wonders and true power abound.....
The Valaran Freehold. A place of mystery, intrigue, and Imperial power. All are allowed to enter, few allowed to leave. Right by the Imperial Capital, and within the Core, this relatively autonomous land has grown into a jewel on St. Ralek's crown. Ruled by his relatives, currently Rodel Sedorva, they are a bastion of Sedorvan rule. Like their history, very little is known of their day to day life, and composition. Perhaps the Imperial Council will be enough to draw Rodel, The Dragon Prince, from his seat.
LEADER / NOTABLE CHARACTERS:
The Dragon Prince Rodel Sedorva, Despot of the Freehold, Warden of The Vermilion Citadel, Dai'Shan of The Order of the Golden Scale, Watcher from Torian's Peak. From the line of Vindos Sedorva, First Wyvern Rider, and Ilyena Valara, goldenheart of The Shearing.
Rodel Sedorva is a man of curiosity to most outside the Royal Family. His father, Jandos, was never seen by any save the Sedorvans, save for his service during the second Golden War. There Jandos was a force of nature, on-top his Wyvern Haxian, a beast the color of starry midnight. Soon after the war and St. Raleks isolation, Jandos disappeared from all. Rodel however had always been a far more visible Sedorvan. His entire life he has traveled across the Empire on his golden wyvern, Yenaxi. A solemn person, Rodel always had a cold exterior. But those who know him well, see the light and humor that lays underneath. He may never smile or joke, but the twinkle in his eyes shows Rodel's understanding.
In recent years Rodel has become far more powerful a legend in the Empire. He has grown to an astounding seven feet, and is covered in golden scales. Rodel represents the Cult of the Dragon to it's full, a steeped Dragon Knight. With long hair the color of moonlight unmarred by cloud, and eyes like shades of the clear blue seas from olden days before this land, Rodel inspires many around him to fear and awe. And when the Empire's foes hear the leathery beat of Yenaxi's wings, and see Rodel riding her, accompanied by his Seekers, many have been known to flee. The only other option is death in glorious St. Ralek's name.
Other Sedorvans are far less known about, and include;
Tilea Sedorva, the eldest of Jandos's children. Unmarried, bitter, and homely, she lurks in The Vermilion Citadel, acting as headmistress for all the Order's students. She has always been bitter of Rodel's powers within the Cult, his Rule in their home, and his prestige across the Empire. TIlea had never managed to bond a Wyvern, and had only experienced flight from a rear seat. Jandos held her back from marriage as a card to be played, but never quite did find her a suitable match.
Rosyena Sedorva, gem of the Sedorvans. A beauty across races and Realms, all can agree. Her golden red hair seems to be a sun rising, with emerald eyes the color of riches beyond material. Though young, she has become the darling of the Freehold with her charismatic nature. Her pet wyvern Savra, a runt who never grew from infancy, is often seen on her shoulder. Rosyena seems to be a living icon of the Freehold's banner.
Darmon Valara, bastard half brother to Tilea, Rodel, and Rosyena. The only one of many to be recognized by Jandos, simply because he had no other choice. Darmon's mother was a noble within the Freehold, from a lower branch of the Valarans that managed to eek out survival. Darmon though quite young has bonded a ferocious Wyvern, and travels the Empire on it's back, adventuring. Where ever there's prestige and riches to be gained, he's there, offering his blade. His loyal bard is often seen on his dragon, riding behind Darmon. Agamedes is a silver tongued but odious little man, always sure to spread word of his Liege's glory.
NATIONAL IDEA: "The Dragon's Home" Torian's Peak and the Vermilion Citadel within it are the crown jewel of the Valaran Freehold. A basket where all the Dragon's eggs lay so to speak. A testament to human innovation, this City resides completely on top the mountain, amid the clouds themselves. For an entire century the Sedorvans have been building this city, catered to their way of life. It's most easily accessible by air, with dozens of stables, honeycombed caves, and towers accommodated to this. Switch back dirt and stone paths lead up by land, for supplies and commoners. Catered to little real estate, the cities buildings are often stacked on top one another in progressively smaller squares and circles. This way of life has led to careful, and innovative development of the city.
(Torian's Peak City changed to unique "Freehold" +Numbers TBD)
UNIQUE UNIT: The Seekers
The Order of the Golden Scale was perhaps founded as a quiet protest to The Order of the Golden Tongue. Based around the legends of the Golden Dragon Jandos defeated, to this day they keep the Golden Scale harvested from the fight under lock and key. These Wyvern Riders have trained all their lives, and been bonded to their Wyverns for just as long. In heavy armor, wielding elongated Lance and Sword, this deadly combination of Beast and Man is a terror to Land, Sea, and Sky. Besides being Knights of the Sky what makes The Seekers so unique is their magical bond with their mounts. From an early age they select a Wyvern hatching, and are bonded to it in secret rituals. Both beast and man have a heightened sense of awareness for one another and their emotions, lend strength from wyvern to man, and intelligence form man to wyvern. In a battle they act like two halves of one whole, working in perfect tandem to become killing machines.
POI: Imperial Blood. Ever since the bonding of House Valara to the Sedorvans, this branch has been of the Imperial Family. In this new Empire they enjoy the recognition and perks of being related to St. Ralek himself.
MAP LOCATION (ONLY WITHIN OR NEAR TO ANDUVIA):