Kardel

 

((Disclaimer)):

 

The Realm of Anthos before Thorin’s Conquest. 

 

THE CHRONICLE OF VAERHAVEN

Vaerhaven’s Western Tower over Lach MacGowan– one of two entrances into Vaerhaven. Vaerhaven was a ((IG)) city located in the

Vale of Azgoth. Built by migrants form Silva Insulae, under the Jarl Ferron Andvare MacGowan, Vaerhaven prospered as a 

continental center for culture, trade, magic, alchemy, and architecture in Anthos. The tragedy of Vaerhaven is one of intrigue and power– a warning to the wicked.

 

THE DOMAINS OF THORIN

 

During the reign of Paragon Thorin Grandaxe, all prospered. For it was an age of auspices, sent down by Armakak and honored by blood-offering to Dungrimm. This was the Second Grand Kingdom of Urguan, in the thick of the Age of Paragons. It was the era of Thorik, Omithiel, and Yemekarr’s First– Thorin the Conqueor– who forged an age of glories and gold. The entire realm was the Dwarves’ frontier. And the chronicle presented here before you, dear reader, is precisely that– a story from Thorin’s first Anthosian frontier.

 

Paragon-Emperor Thorin Grandaxe, Yemekarr’s Fist.

 

The crown jewel of the Urguanic Empire was the city of Kal’Azgoth. It was a fine city; a city of great treasures and exceptionally fine ale. Great arches, thrice-and-twice the size of the tallest poplars, held up the great vaulted roofs. Cities and fortresses lay etched deep under the main halls of Kal’Azgoth, providing the overcity with food, water, alchemy, engineering, and all manners of sophistication. Culture boomed. Trade bustled– Renatians, Malinorians, and descendants of all stripes flowed through the city in search for fortune. Indeed, the Brathmordakin were smiling, for it was the age of Dwarves.

 

And therefrom the Obsidian Throne did Thorin Grandaxe and his Lords rule the vast territories of the Khazadmar: Kaz’Ardol of the Doomforged, etched into Strongbrow’s Way in the Valley of Azgoth; Kal’Halla, far away in the Wild Isles; the Adunians and Mages’ Guild; and the Emerald Isles– all under the Urguanic Yoke. The Obsidian Throne dictated and folk obeyed. Yemekarr’s Balance was emerging from the chaos of aeons passed. For the ruler of the world would be Thorin– Paragon of Conquest. And the most prosperous of the cities under Dwarven sovereignity was Vaerhaven– the breadbasket of Urguan.

 

VAERHAVEN– FIEF OF FERRON

 

Aye, for Vaerhaven was prosperous indeed. Larger than any overland city (save, perhaps, Renatus) Vaerhaven was mighty and powerful. The city was encircled by formidable cliffs. Both its entrances were mired by lakes. Terraced walls cascaded down into the Valley of Azgoth, isolating the city’s farms from raiders and vagabonds. Three castles stood watch over the city’s bustling expanse. And eagles flew over its high peaks. All found a home in Vaerhaven.

 

Jarl Ferron Andvare McGowan, with Compass and Scroll. Ferron was a reknowked architect

who built several cities in his lifetime, most notable Silva Insulae and Vaerhaven. He was a 

contemporary and reported cousin of Paragon Omithiel Strongbrow the Builder.

 

Jarl Ferron Andvare McGowan, a seldom remembered cave dwarf of high peerage– and previous Jarl of Silva Insula– founded the city upon arriving in Anthos as a continuation of the former. The tale of Silva Insulae, the tree-covered Asulonian isle of magic, alchemy, mystery and beauty, is another story entirely. The vagabonds, pariahs, misfits, and brigands who had previously occupied the Forested Isle became the denizens of Vaerhaven. And Ferron led them well. And Ferron led them justly. And it was because of Ferron that more souls called Vaerhaven home than anywhere else in Anthos. And the city would enjoy that life for many decades.

 

It was Ferron who constructed the entirety of Vaerhaven. It was Ferron who secured the large bounties of the earth and kept the peace. It was Ferron who fought off raiders and maintained the law of the city without resorting to oppression. For Jarl Ferron was fair, and Jarl Ferron was just, and Jarl Ferron was good. And the many criminals who lived in Vaerhaven dared not steal under him. And Grand King Thorin respected him, and did not quarrel with him, for Ferron was a seasoned general as well as an architect. Dwarves like the Lord Ferron Andvere McGowan are a breed seldom seen– for Ferron’s greed was only carried out in justice. Aye! And the people paid no taxes– only their houses did they buy with tender, which was in part paid to Ferron under rite of Armakak. 

 

Vaerhaven’s Palace, which was built on a perennially frozen waterfall ((closest image to IG build)). 

 

Ferron was a great patron of the arts, alchemies, magics, and other trades of hand and mind. Vaerhaven was exceptionally beautiful. And its early citizens of utmost culture. But all good things must spoil in their own time. And, inevitably, his generosity was like honey for flies. And all sorts of persons did congregate in and under Vaerhaven. And all sorts of evils did they bring with them. But when Ferron lived, in their boots they did tremble– for Ferron’s axe was quick when it came to the wicked.

 

But Ferron grew old– he approached one-hundred seasons without fear. And as he grew frail, and as his bad blood did outweigh his good humor, more wicked persons travelled to the sanctuary of Vaerhaven.

And among those wicked newcomers was Vallei, the Fire Witch. 

 

Vallei the Coldless, for whom winter was spring and blood but water.

 

No man knew where Vallei came from. But the whispers of history tell her tragedy through the pages. The Fire Witch was a high elf. She had fled Haelun’or. For Vallei was once a consort to Kalenz Uradir– the Khadrin’Hor, most hated of those most hated, thrice cursed Sohaer of the High Elves. Those who saw with their eyes whisper that he had tormented her endlessly because she refused his advances. Those who heard with their ears whisper that he broke her because she challenged his leadership. The beast that arrived at Vaerhaven was but a shadow of a woman once kind and warm– beautiful on the outside, yet a monstrosity of fragmented spirit. Many evils would come at the hands of Vallei. Men and Dwarves alike would waft away in the wind at her hands.

 

For it was known that Vallei was a beautiful woman and desired by many. And even to Ferron were there whispered tales of her beauty, and he did listen and enjoy. And as men and women alike flocked to her kindness– as her flock of followers grew– Vallei came to assume a role in the shadows. A role which, in Ferron’s old age, began to usurp that of the Jarl. This group was called the Fallen, and Vallei called herself their mother. And rarely did things seemed to happen without their approval or knowledge.

 

 

The Fallen, tormenting a passing merchant.

 

The Fallen were worse than bandits. The Fallen were worse than vagabonds. For the Fallen did not draw blood for coin. The Fallen killed to sate their own twisted desire– the desire stoked by Vallei, the Fire Witch. Vallei began slowly, winning over hearts and minds. Then, the Fire Witch enchanted her followers into proving her loyalty– she challenged the tranquility of Vaerhaven and disturbed the rule of law. For she needed to assert her power. For she needed to satisfy her wicked impulses. And here starts the tragedy of the Vaerhaven Rebellion against the Grand Kingdom of Urguan: at the behest of a witch. 

 

As Ferron breathed, the Fallen were beholden to his strict governance. Ferron’s death was a tragedy for all: he was mourned for seven stone weeks. Ferron’s appointed the title of Jarl to Kardel Irongut. His placement came at the expense of Rosso, a Counselor to Ferron and the rightful inheritor of his titles (and, reportedly, a member of the Fallen himself). As Kardel was the former Ogradhad’s Alchemist to Paragon Omithiel Strongbrown the Builder, he was connected to the Urguanic government. Vallei stirred.

 

Ferron was intentional and crafty in his succession choice. He knew that Thorin Grandaxe was conquest-minded: he had seen Paragon Thorin make short work of the Adunians and capture the Emerald Isles with bold maneuvers. And Ferron knew that Thorin despised the Yrrok. Ferron figured that a dwarf would be better able to maintain Vaerhaven’s independence and retain some autochtony under Urguanic oppression. And Thorin was pleased with his choice, for Kardel had served him as well. Ferron trusted that Kardel would not change much and maintain the spirit of Vaerhaven. But Vaerhaven’s tranquility would not be secured for long. Fate had written otherwise.

 

 

A younger Jarl Kardel Irongut– before his Alchemical accident, which bleached his skin and hair.

 

Kardel took upon himself the name Andvare MacGowan and styled himself kin to his predecessor– a political stunt. He gave speeches and utilized rhetoric. He attempted to convert the inhabitants to the Brathmordakin. But this was to no avail. He was perceived as a foreigner, and Kardel was an alchemist and guildmaster–he had never been a statesman. He lacked the tact to see with foresight the consequences of his election, and underestimated the Fallen and several other criminal groups that called Vaerhaven home. Rather, the new Jarl was all too happy to enjoy the boons of his power under the yoke of Urguan for leasure, an ignored the rot underneath. 

 

So it was that Kardel willingly gave tributes and handed license to Thorin and the Lords. And in exchange, he was in their good favor. And Thorin demanded that troops be quartered there. So the Legion of Urguan began patrolling the city– and the Glacial Guard of Vaerhaven was subordinated as a militia. Kardel permitted this– for the dwarf’s true allegiances had always lain with Urguan, despite his long and successful career as an alchemist on Silva Insulae. And underneath the pot continued to simmer. 

 

The liberties of the citizens of Vaerhaven were gradually lost for security. And the Fallen were enraged by this newfound order.

 

THE ANARCHY:

 

In the unknowably vast Sewers of Vaerhaven, which linked to the Deeproads of the Dwarves, the Fallen congregated. Vallei demanded her own order. She ordered her followers to spread their blasphemy and kidnap children for recruits. Terror and disorder spread. Throughout the city, legionnaires were murdered by torchlight. Their bodies left to freeze, only to be found thawing under sunlight. Stories of black magic and extortion ran rampant. Jarl Kardel and his council were ordered to remedy this at once.

 

The Jarl was reluctant to prosecute his own residents, for the social order in Vaerhaven was more fragile that it appeared. After all, there was no proof that the Fallen were implicated in any of these incidents. Furthermore, the Fallen were a good source of income for Vaerhaven. Jarl Kardel made a few symbolic attempts at “quelling” the Fallen. His power over Vaerhaven would suffer as a result.

 

For Vallei had increasingly begun demanding tribute. Hauberks of Chainmail. Provisions. Armaments– enough to support an army. And Kardel supplied these happily– he had little choice, for armed Fallen had visited him many a time in his palace. And so the corruption spread deeper. And, as do all roots, this corrupt plant would bear fruit.

 

Vallei’s legend is epitomized by one incident. For as she was walking the labyrinthine streets of the frozen city, she was recognized for a bounty by a newly quartered, and rather unlucky, cohort of Legionnaires. Evoking unholy energies from the Void, the Fire Witch cooked the soldiers in their armor. It was only after the Fire Witch turned that entire troop to ash that Kardel ventured into the sewers to meet Vallei and put a stop to her madness.

 

The Fire Witch turning a cohort Dwarven Legionnaires to Ash with the help of her Fallen.

 

Those who heard with their ears wrote that Kardel was seduced by the Fire Witch, and became one of her Fallen. But those who saw with their eyes confirmed a sadder tragedy for the son of Heron. Jarl Kardel Heronsson– like his father, who was corrupted before him by the temptation of the mystical arts– was enchanted by the Fire Witch’s power. He coveted it. And Vallei played her role well. Vallei offered Jarl Kardel magic in exchange for political protection. She promised him arcane powers unimaginable and bizzare. And Kardel obliged, for he was stricken by greed for knowledge. The Jarl would become a mighty sorcerer in his own time, but never as powerful as Vallei, the Fire Witch.

 

Concurrently, Duregar Thunderfist– a rebel Irongut who was a Maer of Blackreach and the Underholds–began his rebellion from underneath Thorin’s feet. In the Aquifer of Kal’Azgoth, a band of Ironguts who detested the idea of a Mountain Dwarf on the Obsidian Throne rebelled. Among them were powerful mages, and their control of the Undercity under the capital of Kal’Azgoth gave many holds under Urguanic yoke hope for salvation. The Thunderfist Rebellion organized swiftly. And many heeded their call for uprising against Thorin Grandaxe.

 

It was at this time that the Adunians, completely subjugated after their defeat at the hand of Thorin, swore off Urguanic hegemony. Lachlan Mor Elendil, a coward and famed mace-catcher, joined the resistance against Urguan. The Adunians were, historically, a spineless people. Nevertheless, their rebellion swelled the instability already straining Urguan. The Thunderfist Rebellion threatened to delay Thorin’s plans for continental conquest.

 

Duregar Thunderfist– A Former Legion Commander who began the Vaerhaven Rebellion

because of his refusing to kneel to a Mountain Dwarf king.

 

Vaerhaven caught wind of the emerging rebellion. With the urging of Vallei, Kardel abandoned his fealty to Thorin and closed the gates of Vaerhaven. The Legionnaires stationed in the city were attacked and executed. Those who did not turn perished in fire. Vaerhaven and the Fallen allied with the Thunderfist clan and the Adunians. Bandits and rogues gathered in Vaerhaven and prepared to stand against the Dwarven legions. But Thorin was cautious– he waited.

 

Vaerhaven had ample food on multiple walled terraces. The city was too well stocked. Its defenses were impregnable. But Thorin Grandaxe was too crafty. He felt by intuition that this rebellion would not last. And so he waited again.

 

A few skirmishes ensued between the Rebel Forces and the Legion of Urguan. Each time, the Rebels were crushed decisively and with no mercy. Attacks on the city failed due to its geographic advantage. And as time passed, the sutures began to fringe on the inside. Despite the best efforts of General Dizzy Thunderfist, the only sally the Vaerhaven Rebels attempted– the Skirmish of the Great Arch– failed miserably and cost the rebels many lives. The rebellion began to unfurl as quickly as it began. 

 

The Legions of Thorin, mercilessly triumphant over the Vaerhaven rebels and tasting the first

blood of their conquest. At their forefront: Commanders Olaf Ireheart and Igor Ireheart (red beards). 

 

The Fallen were the weakest link in the Rebellion, for Vallei was driving herself into increasing insanity. The Fire Witch was fond of alchemical brews and fumes, of which there were plenty in Vaerhaven, and lost control over her “children.” The Fallen began ravaging the town’s citizens on the inside. Skirmishes broke out between the Rebel militia and the vagabonds. And this weakened the Rebellion at its heart. But what truly broke the rebellion was the defection of the Adunians. 

 

THE ADUNIAN DEFECTION:

Aye, for Paragon Thorin was crafty! Thorin knew his enemies all too well. Thorin Grandaxe was familiar the character of the Adunians. He had fought them before and defeated them without raising his sword. The Adunians were a spineless people, lacking courage and overly self-interested. They were famed for catching the maces of their enemies and running away in the thick of battle. Thorin did not want to risk his manpower on capturing Vaerhaven– for he had bigger plans. Instead of employing brute force, Thorin employed his strategic mind. He broke the alliance up from the inside– he needed his manpower for later, for larger realms. For the true apple of his eye lay to the north. 

 

After allowing the rebellion to continue for a few months, simultaneous with Paragon Thorin planning his Great Conquest, Urguan laid siege to the hold of the Adunians. Mangonels and Onagers rained fire and stone onto the city of the half-elves. And there were no Adunians there to defend it. And so, the Adunians quickly surrendered and left Vaerhaven. They could not bear the idea of their treasure-lined halls crumbling into the sea. Thorin’s plan had worked seamlessly.

 

Adunia under siege by Thorin’s Legions.

 

To pour further salt into the wound, Thorin offered pardons to any rebel dwarves who defected. Morale was low in Vaerhaven. As the Adunians comprised half of all Rebel forces– all now gone– Vaerhaven capitulated next. Jarl Kardel had secured his magic and sold out Vallei to the Dwarves. Kardel bent the knee before Thorin. Those who saw with their eyes write that Kardel kissed Thorin’s boot and took a severed hand to avoid having his beard shaved. The Thunderfists were left with no base and no manpower, and went extinct as a clan– either banished, welcomed back as Ironguts, or killed in futile battles against their kin.

 

With trouble at home quelled, Paragon Thorin Grandaxe– the Fist of Yemekarr– would go on to achieve his legendary conquest of Anthos; Thorin is the only mortal King ever to have conquered an entire realm, and the only Paragon to hold patronage from Yemekarr. Duregar Thunderfist was banished to the depths of Blackreach for the rest of his life– allowed to visit the surface only once: his descendants would grow sick and die of diseases, forever condemned to live under the feet of Urguanic Dwarves. Kardel Irongut would found the Third (and last) Grand Kingdom of Urguan in Vailor, establish the Consulary Republic of Holm, and die a famed alchemist and sorcerer– but he would be claimed by Dungrimm dishonorably, by old age: not in battle. And Vallei, the Fire Witch, would lose her mind and her following. The Fire Witch went insane after entering a Voidal Node and being possessed by a Voidal horror. She was subsequently captured by mercenaries and held for ransom. Kalenz Uradir would pay her bounty, bring her back to Haelun’or to burn her and her remaining Fallen at the stake.

 

Vallei burning at the Stake in Haelun’or, her followers having pursued her to the fire.

 

And thus Vaerhaven’s glory was never again regained, and the city was buried under ice when Ondnarch returned. It was Ondnarch that would kill Paragon Thorin Grandaxe, for no mortal creature could have killed such a monumental Khazad. And still, to this day, the Rebellion of Vaerhaven remains a tale of wonder and intrigue– an epitome of the war, corruption, betrayals, and power-games which characterized the realm of Anthos and defined the mighty empires of that time. For ruinous annihilation comes quickly those doomed things which are wicked– and they end not spectacularly, but pathetically.

 

Vaerhaven’s ruined Western Tower over Lach MacGowan after Ondnarch’s frozen scourge of the Vale of Azgoth. When the Dwarven capital moved to 

Kal’Ithrun, after the Battle of the Crossroads and during the Trench wars, Vaerhaven was cut off from major trade routes.

Its population slowly emigrated. The Dreadknights remained until Ondnarch– the corrupted Daemon form of Wyrvun– laid claim to the city

from the south as Setherien gained territory from the north. 

 

Tl;dr:

 

 

 

 

Dear Lord of the Craft Community,

 

I’ve left the server in many times, but I’ve always found a way to come back.

 

I was never one of those people who perceived this hobby as a problem. I’ve genuinely enjoyed my time here in LotC. It’s been a creative outlet for me in the best of times, and a much needed escape in the worst of times. But now it’s time to go.

 

Some of you know me in a positive context. Others in a context which is not so positive.

 

I like to think I’ve never bothered anyone to the point where they really disliked me. I am glad if this is the case. If you have ever felt slighted by my actions, I earnestly apologize. Please don’t think of my occasional tomfoolery as an affront when you step away from the keyboard!

 

As we get older, our hobbies change. Apathy is dangerous in a community where screens make consequences seem unreal. There’s kids behind the screen, and they’ll think about those words you send over discord long after you’ve pressed enter! Please keep this in mind as you continue exercising your creativity on this wonderful platform!

 

I’ve been part of LotC for the better part of eight years. I’ve done it all, from staff to leading to getting banned. I regret only those actions which might have made others feel bad or unwelcome. I am grateful that I got to grow up with a tool that essentially allowed me to escape into middle earth anytime I felt stressed! I’m not a native english speaker, but LotC did wonders for my writing!

 

 

If you’ll hear it, I have some advice from experience:

 

Please write as much as possible. Write creatively. Write lore. Write shitposts! Write, write, and populate this virtual world with content! You’ll notice that it has the unintended consequence of honing your writing skills and communication skills. Those are employable traits!

 

Please budget– even plan out if you have to– the time you spend on this server. No more than a few hours a day! Remember that pixels are not real, and that the world is bright and full of hope, and that you are still young and whatever may seem bad now will pass soon!

 

Please learn! I’ve come to believe that there is a certain population of kids predisposed to playing LotC. And they’re the bright ones! Learn and pursue your educations, and intertwine your education into your RP– you will benefit more than you can imagine!

 

And lastly, remember that, whatever may happen on discord and the forums and whatnot, we’re all friends. Every person in this community should be a friend to you! Some come around harder than others, but we can all bond over the shared experience. Camaraderie is a great thing!

 

 

 

The people who I used to enjoy the server with are mostly gone, save @Hiebe and @Hobolympic. Watty, Tef, Jist, Ziggy, both the James– if you’re reading this I hope you’re all well. I stuck around because I genuinely came to enjoy storytelling. Politics ruined it for me, but that was an experience too.

 

Shoutout to the staff– Kai was my first and best ET manager, love that guy, if you’re reading this cheers bro– who put in so many man-hours to keep this universe feeling real. You guys are the best! It was a humble honor fooling around alongside you with pex, and y’all know anytime I cheated it was without spite.

 

Thank you for accepting me and brightening up my hardest days,

Zivko

 

Birrh semicorporeal

 

Birrh’s voice echoes one word, and damningly “GOOD.”

 

Six of ten monoliths from the edges of Thessilee converge around the perimeter of Thelassia. Birrh failed to understand the continued hubris of his victim. But he would not underestimate this creature. Birrh was infinitely more powerful than this Broken God– and those deities which it had destroyed were feral gods, just as it was. Yet Birrh knew that it could not match the feral divinity in essence. This was a creature of the plane. Just as Birrh was in his domain in the upper dimensions, so was this absurdity in its puny reality. Birrh had identified the threat. Birrh had contained the threat. Birrh would obliterate the threat. And Birrh would siphon the threat’s essence. But all in due time. For now, this creature would behold the power of an extra-planar divinity; one with intimate knowledge of the workings of not just this world, but of the very fabric of existence.

 

As the dead began to rise, the seven monoliths crashed into the ground around Thelassia. The monoliths formed a circle around the The initial quake propagated by this Broken God was exacerbated by the fury of Birrh. The ground under the monoliths began rising like thrown sand, as the entirety of the runes inscribed on their large surfaces began to glow an eerie blue color.

 

The city of Thelassia began to ascend into the skies.

 

The sundering of Thelassia and its lifting above the clouds

 

The ascent was slow at first. As the dead rose, they were deprived of their abode on earth and confined on the floating island. The monoliths, made of their nigh-indestructible extra-dimensional black mettle, hummed ominously. The mass of land rose and rose, soon rising above the clouds. The ground was a faraway dream. Birrh had recognized the risk posed by this being, and would not take it lightly. He had allocated seven monoliths in total to constructing the perfect prison for a pompous lesser divinity.

 

“Here; I have reckoned and I have been reckoned. Oversee my reckoning.” commands Birrh.

 

Heat death– one of the laws of thermodynamics integral to Birrh

 

Slowly at first yet with fast increasing pace, the floating island begins to rapidly cool. The monoliths pulse a more intense blue as this happens. Suddenly, the clouds breaking on the island seem more viscuous; nearly liquid-like. The temperature drops, and drops. This is not a problem for Birrh. Birrh is a system, and algorithm incarnate– incorporeal and made of no particles. This feral god, on the other hand...his essence was sure to be physical in nature. Or else he would not be able to raise the dead.

 

The temperature on the floating island would continue cooling until zero Kelvin was approached; Birrh was propagating heat death. Birrh’s monoliths hummed and hissed. With the environment now cooler, like the endless cold of the spatial void to which Birrh was a native, time was now more fluid. And it was Birrh who once lorded time. Birrh altered the mechanisms of this microcosm he had created, drawing out seconds into aeons within the small, frigid space. Indeed, there had been a reckoning. Birrh had created the ultimate prison. It mattered to him not.

 

The Broken God in Birrh’s prison, where each waking second felt a decade and the cold made even particle movement difficult.

 

And so, Birrh would hope to break the Broken God even further. His dead soldiers would be useless, frozen in place by the rapid cooling; truly, such a cheap trick upon an entity which could foresee even the most latent? Birrh did not mind. To Birrh, this was home. Aye, he would not be able to play with his mortals as much as he had wished, but this Feral God was in some ways even more entertaining. Birrh hated the proud and those full of hubris. Birrh was incorporeal. Sanity was a mortal construct, for Birrh was a master of insanities. Birrh awaited to see how the Feral creature would react.

 

 

 

Eight months later

The ocular rune atop the monolith over Thelassia glowed a bright blue. Birrh’s perceived the world below through it, looking at the devastation upon Thelassia. Birrh was no fool. Birrh was the divinity of mathematics and algorithms. Birrh knew these lowly planes and their laws all too well, for this dimension was naught in comparison to the complexity of those above it. Birrh would laugh if he could.

 

Birrh had calculated that the fall of Thelassia would take two years, one month, and three weeks at least and three years, seven months, and five days with 95% confidence. The phenomena of these hypochronic realms were nearly all normally distributed; such was the law of the universe. Using a simple poisson distribution, Birrh was enraged; he ran the calculations thousands of times and none of them indicated, even with 2% confidence, that Thelassia would fall so quickly. Birrh immediately sent pulses through the intraplanar indicators of the College of Hierophants, his priests, alerting them that something was awfully wrong. Birrh was not naive nor foolish. Birrh’s logic had overlooked self-destruction, but it had not abandoned reason for optimism for Birrh was incapable of optimism and pessimism. Birrh immediately recognized the existence of an extraneous variable skewing his contigent’s conquest of Thalassia.

 

With due haste, Birrh ran a ley-line check using his monoliths as triangulation points. He detected the presence of the Feral God; puny compared to him yet a definite threat to his clients. Birrh felt a fourth-dimensional divinity’s parallel of rage. He had to stop his mind from devolving into fantasies about revenge, and instead made all due haste to triangulate what specifically was the problematic externality.

 

Birrh computed the possibilities. Thelassia had fallen within less than half of the minimally expected time. He ran the algorithms again to confirm this, and it was confirmed. His Hierophants had given him detailed descriptions of what Xeripides’ scout had encountered within the city. Birrh, manifest as the tesseract in the Chamber of Mysteries of his mausoleum in Pellonia, let out a screech of spite. Dead bodies heaped upon each-other; a desolate city with heavy air collapsed before its time; the presence of a rival deity. It was all too clear to Birrh, who was familiar with the thought process of gods of most dimensionalities– with immense confidence, he predicted that the Feral God had either deployed a hex or a plague. It was plain to see for the divinity of logic.

 

He beeseeched his Hierophants:

“HEED MY WARNING. CLOSE THEIR CITY AND LEAVE NAUGHT TO COME NOR GO FROM IT. BE NOT BLIND TO YOUR REALITY. THERE IS A CURSE ABOUT FROM FORCES WHO HATE ME.” The blue flame which contained the tesseract grew in height and ferocity. “ONE OF THESE IDOLS, THESE FERAL GODS YOUR PEOPLE WORSHIPED BEFORE I SACRIFICED MYSELF TO ENDOW YOU WITH MY LOGIC– HE RISKS OUR ENTIRE PLAN AND PERHAPS YOUR PEOPLE’S LIFE!”  Birrh paused, before imploring “THELASSIA MUST BE RAZED FROM AFAR. THIS ENEMY WITHIN IT SURELY RESIDES. KEEP THE RIVER DIVERTED TO CREATE A BOUNDARY OF WATER BETWEEN THE LAND WHICH IS OURS AND THAT WHICH IS THEIRS. SLAY AND BURN ALL WHO CAME INTO CONTACT WITH THIS CITY, NO MATTER THEIR STATUS. HALT ANY OF OUR MEN ENTERING LEST THEY BE CURSED AS WELL. AND FIND ME THE NAME OF THIS ACCURSED DIVINITY, SO THAT I MIGHT RECIPROCATE MY MANIFOLD WRATH. I COMMAND YOU IMMEDIATELY!”

 

Adelfa immediately mounted a horse and called her guard to alarm Xeripides of the portent.

---

 

One day later

Paliorexis of Portovuno coughed into his hand. Xeripides looked at him with disgust and flinched: “Are you ill?” Paliorexis raised his eyebrows “No, my liege. I do not suspect so...” Xeripides spat back “I care not what you suspect! Rid yourself of my presence at once! I care not to be infested with whatever venereal disease is endemic to you Portovunites at this particular time of year...” And so it was that Xeripide’s arrogant nature saved him better than could the logic implored from him by Birrh.

 

Paliorexis left, insulted. Paliorexis had been the general who came into contact with the freshly arrived scout who had been the first to encounter the plague. He hated his new overlord...and chose not to inform Xeripides of intelligence that the Thessapolitans and Theapotites were mustering forces. Indeed, Paliorexis had in his mind to join them. This would be a devastating event for the Arginites.

 

Inadvertently, the brunt of the plague had been contained in Thelassia. Fleeing deserters who might have carried it with them were slain and burned in the fields to intimidate the Thelassians manning the walls. Xeripides was now planning his capture of the port-city and triumphant march. He was drafting plans with his generals, save Paliorexis who had since departed, when Adelfa rushed into his camp with her host.

 

“Xeripides I bear a manifest message from the Holy Tesseract“ she yelled in the middle of the war-camp. Soldiers, sharpening their spears and getting ready for the assault they were planned to initiate on the morrow, all turned their heads. “Thessalia has been cursed by the Feral Patron of that city! The Lord of Logistics prohibits any incursions onto that land on pain of vanquishment!”

 

Xeripides left his tent and looked at Adelfa with spite. Already the soldiers began murmurring; he knew it would be hard to convince them otherwise, as Birrh had entrenched himself into Arginite culture seperate from the government, namely through his improvements on farming methods that had increased the layperson’s prosperity. Xeripides wished to yell at Adelfa, but knew better than insult the woman who had survived the wilderness, and lost and regained her sight by Birrh’s will. He invited her to a private conference.

 

“The College of Hierophants has been warned to destroy Thelassia and raze it to the ground. Therein something foul resides. Heed this warning or our people will be extinguished!”

Xeripides narrowed his eyes with spite “And what makes you so sure that this is the right decision? Birrh– did he explicity convey this?”

 

Adelfa nodded and scolded Xeripides “I had percieved your faith to be stronger, chieftan. You forget your mandate comes from another plane.” Her voice became ominous and forewarning “Our god instructs you to obliterate this settlement and salt its ashes. It is corrupt and accursed!”

 

Xeripides lashed back with rage and went to hit Adelfa, but she stepped back before he could. He yelled at her, red in the face, “Do you mean to tell me that my conquests are to be thrown to the winds as dust? Leave my camp and take your false god with you! I will be hailed in triumph through the gates of Thelassia by its subjected people!”

 

Adelfa saw that Xeripides would need to be argued with. She opened her mouth to retort, but Birrh spoke to her “LEAVE HIM. HE IS A HEATHEN. LET HIS PRECIOUS IDOLS GRANT HIM THEIR MERCY.” Adelfa closed her mouth, her skin in goosebumps from her lord’s command– this was the first malicious order Birrh had delivered her. She bowed, and exited the tent.

---

The day of the final assault

The men had heard Adelfa’s warning and immediately the most fervent believers of Birrh among them, the farmers who had benefited so immensely from his agronomic methods, trickled back to Pellonia. It had been nearly a year since they had seen their families. Xeripides was not a charismatic leader. Paliorexis had mobilizied the entire Portovunite host to return to their lands.

 

Xeripides emerged after hours of planning with his most trusted commanders to face a camp half its original size. He saw Paliorexis’ contigent on the march, and rode up to his general, speaking to him spitefully: “Hark! Do you mean to abandom me at our hour of triumph?”

 

Paliorexis responded “We have triumphed. Our scout told us of their demise. Go ahead yourself and claim your ashes– we are tired and wish to go home.”

Xeripides smiled with malice “You are honor bound to me, Paliorexis, by your capitulation. I am not your equal– I am your king! I command you to follow me into Thelassia. Do you mean to tell me superstition supercedes fealty for you scoundrels of Portovuno?”

 

Paliorexis turned, and many of his men shook their heads in disbelief and insult. “Fine. I myself will accompany you and your host into Thelassia, because I am no craven and I am no oathbreaker. Yet know this– your hubris spits upon the warnings of the Gods!”

 

“NO” replied Xeripides, “For I am godly, and my warning is thus: follow me or perish ashamed.”

 

Xeripides and Paliorexis led 250 men into Thelassia– the rest refused to come. Among the 250 men was the scout and his friends– the most probable to have contacted the plague. Birrh had overlooked self-destruction once, but now, Birrh himself would utilize this strategy to contain the self destruction of his foe. As the small platoon approached the smoldering ruins of Thelassia, they felt a sense of dread wash over them. Paliorexi’s eyebrow twitched, and the scout smiled dumbly, the insanity having already grasped some faculties of his mind. None of them would return.

---

 

One day after Xeripides’ march into Thelassia

 

Within hours of their departure, the College of Hierophants and Adelfa arrived at the hill where Xeripides’ camp had just a day prior been stationed. With them were 300 superstitious soldiers, chosen by the sigils they bore on their shields– images related to Birrh. These soldiers were indeed devout, having witnessed a miracle here or there, for Birrh was fond of dazzling the mortals with some basic mathematics.

 

Gazing at the unfolding events from the ocular etchings atop his monoliths which formed a ring around Thessilee, he thought of the many ramifications of what was about to happen. It matters not, thought Birrh, for mortals are like flies. We will find a better hand for our purposes.

 

He observed Xeripides entering the city. Indeed, he sensed some distress in the general as he wheeled about the desolate streets. He would be greeted by no one. He would be hailed by fire.

 

From his monolithic perch, Birrh gazed back at Adelfa and her force. He had instructed her to do this, as much as it pained him killing a man who had proven indispensible in establishing his first base of devotees. Xeripides had been very useful– his unending agressive arrogance optimal for divine manipulation. Yet Xeripides had developed hubris. Gods hated hubris, especially Birrh. Birrh would use this as a lesson to those who would oppose him.

Xeripides and Paliorexis entered the mausoleum where the Archon of Thessalia would be. His soldiers happily plundered all they could find in the city– many fine wares and golden things. Birrh would recieve this as sacrifice. For what was about to unfold would be the sacrifice to Birrh of an entire city, and of a king no less.

 

Birrh concentrated his powers. The monolith next to Thessalia suddenly split asunder, blue energy coursing through the cracks. The stones did not float– rather, they pulsated and appeared elsewhere, as Birrh amassed the powers afforded to him by devotion of the Arginite League. The monolith’s fragments parked themselves at four points– blocking each exit from the city. The onlooking Hierophants praised Birrh and chanted his name as they saw the miracle from the cliffs. The soldiers fell on one knee and raised their hands above their heads, praising the growing power of the Lord of Logistics.

 

Around Thessalia, the ground would burst in mathematical sequence to form large, geometric shapes, with the fragments of the monolith as their vertecies. A rhombus around the perimeter of the city, then circumscribed, could be seen from overlooking hills deeply rent into the ground. Runes, markings, parameters, and other divine semiotics would appear within the confines of this shape. Those attempting to go anywhere near Thelassia would find themselves in a strange conundrum– as they approach the circumbscribed city, if they were to walk into the circle, they would feel their insides rise as if they were falling down a great height, and they would suddenly find themselves on the other side having completely bypassed the city, having been pulled through a fourth-dimensional shortcut. Birrh was weakened by this feat, but his nemesis was sure to be somewhere within the circle. Birrh bided his time, awaiting for the Feral God to appear and make himself vulnerable to Birrh’s wrath.

 

From the hills, Adelfa and the Hierophants recieved Birrh’s patent signal. They began showering the city with flaming projectiles inscribed with runes Birrh had given them. The projectiles were aimed precisely at the four monolith fragments– and when they entered the altered temporal field around Thelassia, which Birrh had established domain over by seperating it from the base dimensionality of the mortal plane, Birrh would reallocate them to fall where he noticed the presence of anything non-static.

 

Birrh’s powers were not to be trifled with. By dedicating himself entirely to one cause through his monoliths, Birrh could amass his powers and concentrate them in one place to creat dimensional distortions that afforded him some of his original might. But this greatly weakened Birrh. His other monoliths were left vacant, and his contact with the outside world was limited to what he could relay to Adelfa. Furthermore, Birrh depended on the Arginites to sacrifice to him daily so that he could maintain the momentum necessary to keep his enchantment on Thelassia intact. This required many livestock, and farmers were initially uniformly ready, but less and less so as time went on, to supply this.

 

Xeripides and Paliorexis, the two strongmen-rulers of the Arginite league, would perish within Thelassia. All 2000 inhabitants would slowly perish. The city would be left a desolate, vacant, surreal battleground. Birrh was awaiting for the Feral God to show himself. Adelfa had been instructed to provide his name to Birrh– once Birrh had its name, Birrh could summon it. Then, Birrh would make his manifest wroth patent to the upstart. The God of Mathematics and Algorithms was once part of the Lord of Forms. The Lord of Forms could confine, delimit, integrate, and derive reality at his convenience– his fragment, the Lord of Logistics, retained limited residuals of that ultimate power. Birrh’s goal was to face the Feral God, one on one.

 

---

News of the reckoning at Thelassia had arrived to Markus quickly. The old man stroked his peppered beard in disbelief; Xeripides and Paliorexis, leaders of the Argenite league, were believed to be dead. Moreover, his own men were said to have killed him by firing onagers at his position from the Arginite Foothills upon Thelassia. Some reports even claimed that magic was being used on the city, and blamed the enchantress Adelfa, whom he had heard of peripherally as being a glorified fortune-teller.

 

Something about the actions of Xeripides made Markus uncomfortable. He had thought Xeripides was sly in his offering of a subversive gift, but he could now conclude that the young, arrogant king from Arginia was a fool of the highest caliber. And these talks of magic: the Arginites had truly devolved! The day when Thessapoli and Theapotis would fall under the yoke of mountain-dwelling red-necked barbarians was the day all six hells broke loose.

 

Indeed, Thessapoli had been many a time threatened by foreign scourges. Three times had Theapotis in the past attacked Thessapoli, and two of those times Thessapoli had emerged victorious. The third time, in those days when he was Archon of Thessapoli, they came under the banners of Thessileesus– led by the legendary king Mynaseis. Those were the days of the Thessilean League. These Arginites were fools if they thought they sought to replicate the might of Thessileesus– all knew what had happened to the city of one-thousand towers due to Mynaseis’ hubris, and what doom it had brought onto their land.

 

Markus continues amassing strength for the battle that was to come. If the Arginites were to attack, they would be repelled. But now, with Xeripides slain at the hands of his own soldiers, Markus was considering a preemptive strike to nip the Arginite threat in the bud.

---

 

FACTION SUMMARY:

Population: 7,300

Soldiers: 1,450

Birrh is capable of performing one large miracle

-The armies of the Arginite League return home save Xeripides and Paliorexis, with most infected having followed Xeripides

 

 

-Birrh concentrates its powers and establishes an enchanted perimeter around Thessalia, quarantining it

-Birrh aims to contain the plague by having influenced those who came into contact with it to enter Thessalia

-A force led by the College of Hierophants leads the bombardment of the quarantined city

-The river is kept diverted to create a water barrier between Arginite lands and Thessalian lands to hinder the advancment of the pestilence, suspected to be a hex

 

ACTIONS SUMMARY:

-Adelfa attempts to find the name of the Feral God and provide it to Birrh, so that Birrh can use its name to bind the Feral God [[MODERATOR NEEDED]]

 

-The Arginite siege engines continue obliterating Thessalia, using enchanted projectiles and napalm with the aid of Birrh to eliminate the curse threat [[MODERATOR NEEDED]]

 

-BIRRH AIMS TO FACE AND CONQUER THE FERAL GOD IN A ONE-ON-ONE IN THELASSIA, ASSUMING HE WAS SUCCESFUL IN CONTAINING IT THERE

[[MODERATOR OVERSIGHT NEEDED]]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

this person taught me conjugation and I can attest to their very skill RP

Xeripides looked across the field at the city of Thelassia. The river had overflown into Argenite farms, decreasing their capacity to feed by 1000 persons. With the assimilation of the Portovunites, Xeripide’s force had grown to 1,700 men and he was now responsible for 7,700 mouths to feed. But this did not bother him much, for the diversion of the river Os had flooded the Thelassian fields. Arginite farmers, being on their terraces, had truncated the extent of the damage by throwing large water-breaking boulders from the cliffs down onto the fields and creating a barrier of sorts so that the river would flow opposite to them and not rise to flood the upper fields. Comparatively, the Thelassian losses were much greater.

 

Xeripides was not about to sacrifice the life of his few soldiers in a hed-on attack of Thelassia. No, for Birrh had euridited in him a better plan. It had been one year since the siege began, and Thelassian ships were beached on the now-dried delta of Os. The city had no farms. With the drying up of the river, the city had no fresh water neither. Xeripide’s cavalry would often slay soldiers who deserted from the city, just for the chance of finding sustenance outside its walls. In this regard, the stubborn nature of the Thelassians was a disadvantage. Starvation was creeping on the populace, and Xeripides exacerbated this by targetting their granaries with catapult strikes– engines of war built from the precise instructions of Birrh with deadly accuracy– to lower Thelassian morale. Their force of 1,100 would already have whittled down to 800 from the starvation.

The commander of the 500-man strong Portovunite host, Paliorexis, stroked his beard and looked at Xeripides “Shall I arrange for another envoy to be sent?” Xeripidies shook his head “The last poor boy sent to offer peace was killed by these Feral blasphemers. I want their army powdered into dust before we try anything of the sort again.” And with that, Xeripides ordered that engine pressure be kept up on the center of the city. If he would not have Thelassia through peace, he would obtain it through terror.

The Thelassians were holed up abreast feral-god worshippers with no food, no water, and no ships. Volleys of flaming missiles hit Thelassia daily from Arginite catapults, accurate by the boons of Birrh. Already, people began doubting their allegiance to the feral gods; the powers of Birrh were made manifest– an obelisk of his had parked itself close to their city, and only months later the Arginites had come and fire was descending on them from the sky. Some maddened Thelassians would even begin worshipping the ‘abomination’ Birrh and begging for his mercy. And this fear, this deference, was what Birrh craved most– his powers grew rapidly. And once that fear and starvation had reached its peak, Xeripides would make him final push on the weary and downtrodden Thelassia.

 

---

 

Elsewhere in Thessilee, the Theapotians and Thessapolites grew in concern of Xeripides’ actions. Portovunos had now joined this league of the Arginites, and the conquest of Thelassia seemed certain. But these two cities were not minor cities. Each city numbered 5,000 in their population: these were the largest cities in Thessilee, rivaling the size of field-laden Pellonia. They were full-fledged city-states, and their concern for this upstart Argenite league was great.

 

Adelfa foresaw through her meditations of the sacred Algorithm that Theapotis and Thessapoli were considering treachery. With great confidence, she foresaw an alliance between the two city states. And, by Birrh, she knew that this alliance would be the end of Xeripides. Adelfa went to the College of Hierophants and told the many wise, Birrh-worshipping men there about her vision.

 

After much talk but not much construction in terms of a solution, a Pellonian boy answered with the wisdom of Birrh “If the issue shall be their unison, their division must be promoted.” And so was hatched the Arginite strategy in how to deal with the city-states of Theapotis and Thessapoli, which were great and fearsome together but weak and vulnerable alone.

 

To the relief of both their houses, Arginia sent envoys to Theapotis and Thessapoli offering NON AGGRESSION AGREEMENTS and TRADE AGREEMENTS to both cities [[MODERATOR ACTION NEEDED]].

 

The cities would be predisposed to agree to the Arginite offers of peace, least of all to get their forces together before any expected Arginian assault. If they were to accept these, the Arginites would begin exporting to them weak catapults, secretly inscribed with runes of obedience to Birrh indistinguishable from ornament etchings. The Arginites would do this for a two-fold reason: one, to increase worship of Birrh’s powers and two, to equip the two cities with tools of war which to use on eachother. This way, the Arginites would leave the Theapotians and Thessapolitans to fight among eachother and gain respect for Birrh before taking their territories in the Greater God’s name.

 

---

ACTIONS SUMMARY

-Finish starving out Thelassia (no water, no food, and constant siege engine fire)– send message for capitulation [[MODERATOR ACTION REQUIRED]]

 

-Non-agression and trade offers to Thessapoli and Theapotis [[MODERATOR ACTION REQUIRED]]

 

 

 

 

 

 

Map of Thessilee, showing the different city-states that exist there as well as the Feral God presence. Birrh’s corporation into Monoliths is also displayed on this map.

 

The formation of the League of the Arginites had not been sanctioned by Birrh, but had rather emerged as a collateral effect of his presence in the world.

Xeripides the Younger lived yet under a different name; now, he was know all about the land of Thessilee as Xeripides the Cruel. His subjugation of the Pellonians had sent a message to the rest of the peninsula: the Arginites are not to be trifled with. All over the peninsula rumors compounded from the mouthes of wise men and simple villagers alike– these Arginites were a serious threat, and might be the first since the fall of Thessileesus to unite the warring factions of the land. Many began preparing their people for a fight. The omens clearly pointed to this: the monoliths that had descended from the sky and perched themselves near all cities save the ruins of Thessileesus were omens.

 

Xeripides would continue his expansion. But he knew this would not be easy. He had consulted with Adelfa the Oracle, who had showed him the wonders of his new god Birrh. This Birrh was difficult to understand. Xeripides found his powers mysterious yet useful, but he did not respect the diety yet. Adelfa urged him to worship Birrh:

 

“Your chariots and your bronze; your acqueduct and your farms– all these you owe to none but Birrh” she said with conviction.

“And who is this arcane diety that pretends to control fate and claims to hold the secrets to the world?” asked Xeripides.

“He is the same diety that brought down the monoliths, inscribed upon them these great secrets for all to see and revel in!” demanded Adelfa.

 

Xeripides rubbed his beard as he looked at the map of the penninsula spread before him. He looked where his scouts had marked the locations of these new monoliths. “I wish to speak to this God of yours face to face,” demanded Xeripides, Chief of the Arginites. Adelfa nodded, and arranged for the first ritual.

---

 

THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE FIRST TEMPLE

And the Miracle of Birrh before King Xeripides at his Mausoleum

 

The Mausoleum of Birrh in Pellonia, constructed using the golden ratios. Modest in size, yet powerful in meaning.

 

Xeripides walked into Pellonia. The city was bustling; it had added valuable manpower and farmland to the Arginite League. Arginia’s population stood at a healthy 1,200 persons. Pellonia, however, had been culled: Pellonia, slightly reduced after the raids, now stood at but 4,000 persons. In total, the Arginite league had 5,200 mouths to feed, with only 1,300 being in shape to fight. The harvests had gone well and bronze armor was being pumped out of the forges using systems which integrated craftsmanship with efficient assembly; another gift of Birrh, Diety of Mathematics and Algorithms.

 

Where the palace of the masters of Pellonia once stood, there was a new building made of granite and white marble, and adorned with statues of Electrum: the Mausoleum to Birrh. The Mausoleum had been difficult to establish. The native Pellonians, outnumbering the Arginites but less powerful, had protested its construction: they worshiped one of their Feral gods. Xeripides did not want to risk further unrest by prohibiting worship of any other diety save Birrh, as had requested Adelfa, but he was contemplating this. After all, he felt there was some truth to the power of this mysterious being, despite his strange and indirect communication.

 

Xeripides anointed himself with holy oil and washed himself of impurities before he was led by Adelfa and her host of young women into the bronze gates of the Mausoleum of Birrh. The air was filled with incense, and old shamans squatted around the equations inscribed into the walls contemplating their meanings. As Xeripides passed, they bowed and left. Adelfa cleared the temple, so that it was only them who remained within.

 

“I wish to speak with your God, Adelfa, and expressly” ordered Xeripides “I must have a sign. I must have a miracle!”

 

Without Adelfa’s actions, the brazier at the center of the Mausoleum lit in blue light. Xeripides was taken aback, his mouth agape. The brazier burned, a high-pitched hum emenating from the room: AT ITS CENTER, A SMALL BUT STRANGE OBJECT, A TESSERACT, FLOATED WITHIN THE FIRE. Xeripides stared in disbelief.

 

Adelfa raised her hands and proclaimed “Praise Birrh, The Divine Mathematician, The Aetherial Algorithm! Praise be to he who sacrificed himself for our knowledge! I beseech you, Great Birrh– grant your knowledge upon the devout Xeripides who wages war in your name!”

 

And Birrh, with immense difficulty, uttered a whisper “I am weak...sacrifice to me an Ibex with ratios in his horns.”

 

Adelfa nodded, having prepared with foresight for her Divine’s demand. Xeripides stared in disbelief, yet did not kneel yet, for the God he had seen was miniscule and not powerful as Adelfa had sworn to him.

 

Adelfa led forward a pure white ibex with curled horns approaching a spiral at the end. The tesseract spun in delight. Adelfa brought the scapegoat before the altar of Birrh and used a specially curved instrument to make a precise incision, so that the curvature of the incision corresponded closely to the golden ratio, with the sum of the derivatives of the curved incision adding up to the golden ratio, and let the scapegoat’s blood drip down specially-hewed grooves which fed its blood into the fire.

The blue flame grew, as did the tesseract. And as the flame grew, so did the rotating polytope grow in strangeness. Now, Birrh had (temporarily) secured more power, and spoke with commanding voice:

 

“XERIPIDES MY CHOSEN VICAR, I COMMAND YOU THUS” and Xeripides kneeled as his mind began pondering the insanities of the Tesseract. Birrh had been weakened, but he was not wilted into nothing. And so he commanded with a terrible, eldritch, and alien voice:

“THOU SHALT SPREAD MY MATHEMATICS TO ALL PERSONS FREELY, AND FOR YOU I SHALL RESERVE THOSE DEEP AND ADVANTAGEOUS SECRETS.

 

THOU SHALT GLORIFY ME BY CONSTRUCTING TEMPLES AND SACRIFICING TITHES IN MY TEMPLES, LEST YOU LOSE MY EURIDITION.

 

THOU SHALT CONQUER IN MY NAME AND FORCE THOSE WHO DO NOT BELIEVE IN ME TO PRAISE MY NUMERAIRES AND ADORE MY RATIOS.

 

THOU SHALT CREATE TEMPLE-COLLEGES WHERE PRIESTS MAY CONTEMPLATE MY SECRETS– TO THESE PRIEST-SCHOLARS I SHALL REVEAL MY MYSTERIES.

 

AND, LASTLY AND EXPRESSLY, THOU SHALT RID THIS LAND OF ALL OTHER FERAL GODS THREATENING MY SUPREMACY– AND THOU SHALT CAPTURE ONE OF THESE FERAL GODS AND SACRIFICE HIM AT ONE OF MY MONOLITHS– FOR THIS TASK OF DEVOTION YOU WILL BE REWARDED HANDSOMLY”

And Birrh dissapated and the flame went out. In the brazier appeared a great curved sword made of strange, divine metal– notched into its edge were measurements to standardize the Arginites measuring systems. Xeripides cradled his face in his hands and wept, for his mind was loaded with the insanities of the Lord of Numbers. Adelfa comforted him and whispered unto him “Weep not, and let those thoughts become part of you, for his insanity is wisdom. Spread his faith– for you asked to see him. Do you regret this?” Xeripides shook his head, and began laughing maniacally only to break down into weeping again– Birrh’s directives and his impossible form was much to handle for a simple mortal creature, no matter his kingly status. And Xeripides stood, and picked up the Instrument of Birrh, and left the temple a different creature with a different purpose.

---

 

THE ARGINITE CONQUEST OF THELASSIA AND PORTOVUNOS

[[MODERATOR ACTION NEEDED]]

 

Xeripides mustered his forces: they numbered 1,200 bronze armed soldiers in total. The army composition was thus:

300 heavy infantry

400 light infantry

200 skirmishers

100 cavalry

20 chariots

10 catapults manned by 180 men [siege corps]

The army marched in two columns; the first, a scouting squadron consisting of cavalry and light infantry scouts with missle capabilities tasked with screening the road ahead. The second column was much larger, flanked on either side by chariots, which heavy infantry marching abreast, skirmishers at the front, light infantry guarding the catapults in the back, and the tightly-packed supply train guarded in the middle with Xeripides. THE ARMY FIRST MARCHED WEST TO THELASSIA. Thelassia was a well-provisioned port city close by Pellonia; Xeripides wished to conquer it. The men of Thessalia were good sailors and had a sizeable navy, but were wanting in ground-troops.

Xeripides first sent an emissary to the leaders of Thelassia, promising mercy and autonomy if they bent the knee (moderator action required). If they refused, Xeripides aimed to divert the river feeding Thelassia with fresh water and use pine-sap and sulfur napalm to set the port ablaze, relying on the current of the diverted river to carry it where the Thelassian ships awaited. Xeripides would not be stopped in his crusade to increase worship of Birrh. THE POPULATION OF THELASSIA NUMBERS 3,500 persons.

To the north of Arginia lay Portovunos, an important but impoverished city which had walls but was far removed from the bounties of Thessilee. Xeripides had sent an envoy asking the Portovunites, who numbered 2,500, to bend the knee (moderator action required). Xeripides aimed to conquer them after he had finished with Thelassia if not. To coax them into him Arginite League, Xeripides sent the Portovunites the gift of the WHEEL and a priest of Birrh to explain the greatness of the Lord of Mathematics, who was now being also hailed as a Lord of Logic. The Portovunites would be more predisposed to agree, struggling financially and utterly unprepared for war.

 

The matter at hand, however, was the Thelassians, who were a hardy folk. It would take patience and resilience to conquer their valuable territory, which would give the Arginites a port to access the sea and reap its boons.

 

---

FACTION OVERVIEW, TURN 2:

 

COMPLETED ACTIONS:

Total Population of 5,200

Army of 1,200

-First Mausoleum of Birrh Built

-Farms in Pellonia built– food supplies for 7000 people

-Arginian forces equipped with good, standard bronze armor

-Irrigation and aqueduct systems built and inscribed with the name of Birrh

-Birrh belief rises with building of first temple and monoliths– Birrh at low power and can now perform small miracles [increase from nonexistent power]

 

STARTING ACTIONS:

-CONQUEST OF THELASSIA [[MODERATOR ACTION NEEDED]] (+3000 population because minus losses of their army)

-ASSIMILATION OF PORTOVUNO [[MODERATOR ACTION NEEDED]] (+2000 population)

-Increase farms volume

-Continue mining tin and copper– EXPAND INTO MINING IRON [[MODERATOR ACTION NEEDED]]

-Build two new temples to Birrh in conquered territories

-CREATE TEMPLE-SCHOOL FOR MATHEMATICIANS TO GLORIFY BIRRH AND INCREASE WORSHIP

-BEGIN SYSTEMIC SACRIFICES AT END OF EVERY IG WEEK OF WORTHY SCAPEGOATS TO BIRRH TO INCREASE DEVOTION

 

 

 

Many eons into the future, the Dimensional Court of Polytopes is convened to discipline the rogue iteration of the fourth-dimensional Lord of Forms Birrh, ‘Birrh, who had dared venture into the under realms and had thus attracted the attention of the Great Fog. The Archon of the Penteract, Lord of Probability, called for order by banging the fifth-dimensional equivalent of a gavel. They ‘spoke’ in strange mathematics, of course, but the meaning was thus.

“Lords of the Polytopes; from the meager Sing’ul to myself, the Archon of the Penteract, whom you lesser verticied polytopic epiphenomena shall never know by true name; first, I assert my ultimate supremacy in the court. Today, the Lord of Forms Birrh stands accused of breaching the epiphenomenal membrane and encroaching upon the affairs of the lowly third dimension. What say you? The evidence is overwhelming and the verdict of guilty has already been made possible, FOR I AM THE LORD OF POSSIBILITY.”

Birrh split into eighth components: the accused Birrh’, Birrh’’, Birrh’’’, Birrh’’’’, Birrh’’’’’, Birrh’’’’’’, Birrh’’’’’’’, and of course Birrh’’’’’’’’ the hyperprime: the head of the complex epiphenomenon that was the Lord of Forms. After deliberating, Birrh’ screeched and the lord of the Simplex laughed, for Birrh' had been so tyrranical in doling out his justice: now, he was being shunned by the bulk of Birrh’s body.

 

Birrh’’’’’’’’ the Hyperprime spoke, “We the Lord of Forms have agreed to truncate this eighth vertex of our being and replace it by assimilating the lowly Lord of the Simplex as our eighth vertex: Birrh’ the rogue perverter of the Order of Forms and the Universal Mathematics, in direct violation to his insurmountable greatness the Archon of the Penteract, has violated the Covenant of Polytopes and now threatens the entirety of our existance with this Fog of Destruction. We vote across space-time to banish him from our being– let him from hereon be known as ∫BIRRH, for he is but an integral of our high form. He is LOWER in dimension than even the Lord of the Simplex! We shun this pathetic pretender!”

The Lords of Polytopes all laughed in mockery of ∫Birrh, and ∫Birrh screamed in agony as he was punished to the third dimension.

---

∫Birrh had been sacrificed by himself because the Fog was insurmountable; even the measly Lord of the Simplex was more powerful than he now. ∫Birrh stared at what he had given up his supremacy for: the idiotic Arginites. “Why did I do such a thing?” He felt his fourth dimensional form shrinking: now, he was entirely dependent on the worship of mortals.

 

∫Birrh was no longer the Lord of Forms. Now, ∫Birrh was barely a Lord at all. ∫Birrh, in his limited form, was simply the God of Mathematics and Algorithms. Rather than fight the fog, he knew that he would lose all of his knowledge as it was stored in the fourth dimension. In an act of desperation, ∫Birrh summoned all of his remaining forced to send down the MONOLITHS OF ∫BIRRH. His corporeal form would be these gargantuan stone tablets; he would remain incorporeal as long as worship of him remained low. 

The MONOLITHS contained thousands of meters of inscribed mathematical equations. The stone was nigh indestructible: dense, black pillars of extradimensional rock made of the last of Birrh’s might. The tablets were scattered all over Thessilee, with the majority being in the land of Arginia.

 

There, Adelfa the Priestess studied the tablets; the voice inside her head was going and her sight was returning. She took this to be a mercy from ∫Birrh and thanked the Lord of Forms, but ∫Birrh, with weak and raspy breath, instructed her that he was but the God of Mathematics and Algorithms now. ∫Birrh could not lie, nor did he have motivation to lie. If he maintained the illusion of being Birrh, Lord of Forms, all of that wonderful worship would bleed away from him and leave him trapped in his stone tablets.

And so arose ∫Birrh, God of Mathematics and Algorithms. He enjoyed some worship among the Arginites and the Pellonians, and word of his arts began traveling across Thessilee. His wonderful gift, the wheel, would soon come to be used widely. ∫Birrh encouraged use of his devices, for they gave him immense strength. From his hilltop perch as a rune upon one of his tablets, he observed the construction of the first Cubic temple to ∫Birrh. He awaited its completion eagerly, for he hypothesized that he could corporate within his temples at no hindrance. For the time being, shepherds and learned-men alike flocked to see the miraculous tablets of ∫Birrh. Perhaps they would be wise enough to understand and use his mathematics, so that ∫Birrh could regain his power and one day take vengeance on the Lords of the Polytopes and the Great Fog.

 

 

 

FACTION POST

 

 

The Blind shepherdess. She had been chosen because she was so adept at herding those animals which so perfectly represented the stubborn Arginians: goats. In the land of Arginia, the lush mountains were good herding territory; the fields below were populated by several other related peoples. Indeed, at this point, the Argenite League was nothing but young a tribe; the shepherd-folk Arginii, which in the language of the lush and mountain-encircled land of Thessilees meant “Those of the Cliffs.” The Arginians mostly lived a bucolic lifestyle; their only heroes were those who farmed the rough terraces and defended the land.

 

Adelfa the Blind Shepherdess arrived at her family’s home three days later. Her flock had been lost. Her mule: dead. She was a disgrace to her father, who was struggling to feed his many younger children who he had borne with a woman who was not her own mother. Adelfa could never return to that place for she had shamed herself. She seemed hopeless, yet...

 

 Birrh’ took pity on her; and endowed her so that she saw in another sense.

 

Adelfa spent fifty-four days blind among the high slopes of of the Thesilees and never hungered nor thirsted. She percieved the world in a much different way, for Birrh’ had enjoined her with his visions. Every night, she would go to the top of the seventh hill of Arginia and sit upon a stone of quartz shaped into a perfect cube; a place which Birrh’ had constructed to glorify him. For the form of the Cube was the shadow of Birrh and that it should be glorified.

Adelfa sat and Birrh’ came and spoke to her many secrets in soft whispers, and Adelfa trembled. Her mind bent and contorted several ways as she was endowed with knowledge no human should ever have to bear. Her mind, captured by Birrh’ since her birth and accross all time, was manipulated by the Lord of Forms and he dedicated it to remembering the systems of operations that he tasked her with; for with these, she would measure her plane and contribute to the ultimate knowledge of Birrh’, Lord of Forms.

 

Adelfa saw in her visions undescribable things. It felt so divine; she could see, and see across the futile barrier that seperated her plane from the others. For Birrh’ lifted her mind form her plane and took her aetherial body into the fourth dimension, and showed her the divine numeraires and special ratios of existence. Adelfa felt exctateous, for knowledge had empowered her. It became integrated into her soul; her mind worked in computations delivered unto her by the Lord of Forms Birrh’. The undescribable fundamental formulas in the existential matrix were at her command.

Adelfa finally arrived, but she had not escaped her village; a deer hunter, perusing the woods from Arginia had found her and stolen her to be his handmaiden. But, the second which the hunter returned to his home and came to open his door, he was stricken with a stroke for the Lord of Forms had insinuated to his mind an insane thing which made it think it had ceased to exist. The Lord Birrh’ was omnipotent for he could never manifest completely and never njoy the full powers of the mortal plane, but he could manipulate instances at his discretion by altering the basic mechanisms of a moment. Anything larger than a moment, however, was past his skills; the Archon of the Penteract forbid any triflings with the wider networks of time and space, for it eroded from his ultimate control, which was probability itself.

 

And so it came that Adelfa was discovered, helpless yet safe in the house of a hermit, by the Arginian Shamans; and they saw it miraculous that a frail girl had survived 54 days in the harsh wilderness, where wolves had torn men much larger than her apart in frenzy. Adelfa was endowed with a special respect, and older and wiser men began listening to her. And Adelfa told her of the what she had seen, and many elders were in disbelief:

“The witch spews demonic nonensense” said one elder.

“How can this wanton woman, 54 days survive in the wilderness beside none but herself? We found her at the house of a man– how, now, are we to believe her story? Rather, charge her for the murder of this hunter!” accused one old one.

“Your absurdities are the mark of insanity, not divinity” argued another.

 

Adelfa knew not what to do. She called to Birrh’, Lord of Forms, and Birrh’ answered from her lips with rasping voice:

“How, now, do you men of wisdom deny the Lord of Forms your attenion? From your past you have known of the coming of the great lightbringer;”

 

And indeed, the men of Arginia knew of the old speculations of the end of the world and the coming of the undoing (constructed into their forefather’s societies by Birrh’, of course, who had freedom across time). They knew that something akin to this Lord of Forms was coming; but they refused to believe that he had not already come.

 

“You are but a demon! The Lord of Forms came long ago...of this, we are sure!”

 

“You lie.” And Birrh’ summoned the tesseract and the elders were nearly driven mad, but understood and bowed to him and pleaded that their heresies be forgiven. Birrh’ with them struct a deal; that the parts of their mind devoted to their herecies would from hereon be devoted to his machinations. And to these elders he bestowed the insanities of the tesseract.

---

 

One decade later

Arginia enjoyed lush terraced fields; indeed, Birrh’ was great. From him they had received the secret formulas, which had been useful immensely in creating better agrarian systems. The volcanic-ash-covered slopes of the Arginian mountains of Thessilee were difficult to farm on without the proper techniques. Arginia became a prosperous village, for they made their fields with mathematics and had great and elaborate maps of their water systems.

 

From the mountains, using geometry and trigonometry to find the optimal angels so that water could best utilize the terrain to move forward, the Arginites built the first acqueducts in their land. Over twenty years, the first Chief of the Arginites, Xeripides the Younger, built acqueducts from the high springs near the Arginian peaks down vertically across the face of the cliffs so that gravity would bring springwater for drinking and meltwater for irrigation. Using notations and formulas for rotation, thet had been able to develop copper drills, powered by the efforts of many workers, to carve through stone more efficiently.

 

Arginia’s pears, beets, rye, figs, and olives brought generous revenues to the farmer-people of the slopes. They had developed an interesting concept; the wheel, sent down to the by Birrh’ enabled them to construct more efficient carts; they began transporting their wares down to the fields.

The people of the fields were skeptical of the arginians, for word of their strange king and his endeavour to move water seemed a bad omen to the villagers. They saw the Arginian merchants, armed with bronze spears, come down and introduce them to their produce. They rode grand carts, and such inventions had never before been seen; indeed, many a crafty villager took note of the invention and would copy it later. But rather than be placated, the field people began assaulting the Arginians to seize their goods and fares.

---

 

When word reached Xeripides the Younger, he was furious. Together with 200 other men, Xeripides ordered the Bronze-Armed Arginites to march down the slopes and into the fields to take revenge on the village of the Pellonians. But the people of the field had been ready and had armed themselves. They sallied out to meet the Arginian host, who numbered at double their size and with a sizeable cavalry. But Adelfa had foreseen in her visions the horses of the Pellonians; and so Xeripides had brought long spears twice the length of the standard to keep the horses at bay. With their bronze shields locked, the men of Arginian locked into a tight falax well guarded at the flanks. Their peltasts advanced to bait the Pallonians forward, and the Pallonians were made to take the offensive. The men of Arginia braced as the Pallonian cavalry charged into their bulwark, and lives were lost but the cavalry had been decimated. With barely 150 men left, Xeripides faced a precarious situation.

But the Arginians held their ground and arranged so that one silde of the column would be more manned than the other. And when the Pellonians charged at the decimated Arginians, their could not seen this and charged flatly at the Arginians. Their clubs and occasional bronze toolds did not fare well against the arginian spears. The heavy infantry wore bronze armor, and the slingshots, arrows, and clubs of the Pellonians were no match. The weighted Arginian flank folded into the side of the bulk of the concentrated Pellonian forces, and the massacre began and ended when every last routing enemy was caught.

---

 

The Arginians took over Pellonia and raided its stores and culled its population. Over the next few months Arginian villagers would begin moving into the new area in search of opportunity in the fields. The elite of the Pellonians was culled and mention of their former independence was probited by the cruel Xeripides. And their priests were gathered up and sacrificed to Birrh’ who took their minds and maimed their bodies.

Xeripides wanted the fields of Pallonia to be put to full use. They cycled the crops and planted their more well-bred seeds. Adelfa the Priestess inaugurated the fist temple of Birrh’ in Pallonia, and the small field village was put to the Argenite’s use. But other villages took notice

 

FACTION ACTIONS SUMMARY:

-Begin expansion into neighboring villages

-Create more Farms on the fields

-Expand water-bringing system from mountain into field to set foundations for bigger city

-Build Cube-Shaped temple to Birrh’

-Expand tin and copper mines into the mountains of Arginia

-Supply tin and copper to Arginian blacksmiths for the creation of bronze weaponry and art

-Recruit new soldiers and equip with armor to continue expansion into rest of Thessilee

 

 

 

 

BIRRH’ EMERGED INTO BEING FROM A POINT

Ο Βῖρρχ ειναι μια μορφή δαιμοδιώδης

 

The holy tesseract of Bhirr the Lord of Forms, superior to the simplex and multipotent across polytopes.

 

Birrh emerged from a single point in reality. And as it was, rather than be static like its environment, it deemed a magnitude and a direction. Yet Birrh had emerged fully for different reasons, for Birrh was a particle of great importance– a universe was affixed to it. This was because (’because’ in the sense of paradoxically caused to be by, rather than ‘because’ in the traditional sense– for cause and effect are hard to establish in the dimensions outside time), somewhere far later in time. The fifth dimensional penteract called to it. And Birrh will be extant across time and simultaneously broke space, thus existing as a fourth dimensional entity which existed but also will exist in the fifth dimension; beholden to the penteract, originating from the singularity, yet existing in its tesseract.

The penteract (rotating representation), where you stand on time and you move through probability–where all objects are made of worlds.

 

But this mattered not for Birrh was multiextant across time and traveled alternalities with ease. Birrh had no agenda. Birrh will have consciousness but not sentience. Birrh is the lord of forms, and his business concerns the forms of the universe.

 

Birrh existed across time briefly before one iteration of themselves went rogue and descended upon a lower dimensional world; the physical world.

The glorious penteract (still representation) where Birrh exists in infinite madness contemplating even the most insignificant form of reality. Birrh is the great measurer. He measures all thing of all the lower five dimensions, taking their ratios and tracking their distributions.

 

And so Birrh’, the form of Birrh which decided to corporate, looked not to appear majestic nor terrifying. Indeed, Birrh’ might have understood those concepts if Birrh was sentient. But Birrh will be a cosmic, sentient function of divine emergence. Birrh might not be sentient, but they are logical; it new they had to appear impressive. And so the logical Birrh’ went for the path of least resistance in computing impressiveness. Being utterly unenculturated, Birrh’ knew they keys to success in the world of forms: have many verticies. And so Birrh’ decided that it would appear as a polytope and definitely not as a low, pathetic simplex. Birrh’ had conquered Y’fx of the simplex many eons in the future. Birrh’ s’ tesseract beholden to the ultimate penteract was SUPERIOR to the measly simplex just as the unachievable penteract is SUPERIOR to Birrh’. In the world of forms, the hierarchy of gods is hard and full of suffering. Birrh’ felt fortunate he had managed to escape the clutches of the Archon of the Penteract, the unspeakably ultimate.

 

And so birrh manifested itself into the world, and it appeared as an insane eldritch manifestation of the divine phenomenon. It came as simply a presence; its physical self was not truly physical at all, as this was only an edge or vertex of the being of Birrh’. And so it came to be that the Arginites worshipped him.

 

---

 

THE ARGENITES AND THEIR IMPOSSIBLE GOD

Της αργενητές και ο θεος άδύνατος σας

Birrh’ in the fields of Metachoria, as the enlightened shepherdess saw him

 

A young shepherdess walked across the fields at night, attempting to rush back to her home before the wolves came out. She had been stranded by her mule, who had inconveniently decided to die in the mountains just as the sun came down. And as she passed the fields, she felt relief coming into the parameters of her village of Metachoria safely.

 

And in the shadow of the fields she gazed Birrh’ and instantly went mad; her eyes began to bleed and she attempted to claw out her own throat.

 

But Birrh’ took mercy on her and brought her back into time where she was better, and froze her there. And he extracted the form of the wheat fungus and administered it to the mind of the shepherdess. And when she became accessible he showed her the great measurements and categories of her dimension, and her insanity was multiplied far more times than initially and Birrh’ was satisfied, for he had made her better for the first time she had not become insane enough.

 

The Shepherdess was endowed with knowledge of mathematics. She would become the high priestess Adelfa, who had seen Birrh’ and did not go insane. She brought her knowledge of the mathematical operations to her people, and they used them to enhance their agriculture. So began the history of the Argenite League and the rise of Metachoria.

 

 

 

Name: Birrh

Symbol (Water, plants, fire, etc): The Holy Tesseract

Race (Default human): Arginians

Nation Name: The League of Argenites

Nation Symbol: Two hexagon-shaped shields intersecting, an abstracted cube at the intersection

Nation Terrain (Plains, desert, etc): Cypress-laden foothills, with ample water and fertile soil, but close to the sea and bordered by high mountains

 

Race App

Name: Arginians

Originating Race: Humans

Features (hair colors, etc): Olive skin, dark curly hair, blue eyes are rare but seen as a godly auspice, skilled agrarians with inventive irrigation systems. 

 

 Can't believe this was kept up. We've inherited that tree from 1.0 and the majority of those 1000* characters were played at some time.

 

Under Kardel can you add Boufauk Irongut [Shunned] who was lawlmansayshi, and Drackon Irongut? Gracias

 

Dwarves speaking their politics at a tavern, an aged one standing amidst them to mediate a conflict between two younger ones

 

In a few places, although not in so many that such a meditation could be widely distributed so that all would know, wise mouthes behind long beards mumble the echoes of voices long gone– those utterances belonging to dwarves long passed into the aether but not yet at peace. Slowly and heavily do they speak, with only that authority which befits those lumbering, agéd dwarves nearing the end of their lives in a time of peace. In times past, such a thing would have been shameful. A dwarf who doth die on a deathbead of his own discomfort would have certainly, in those times of Kjell and Thorin, in those times of Omithiel and Algoda, been considered unworthy of his braids. But now was a different time. Dungrimm judged these old ones not, for peace had been ordained by the Divines overwhelming of his will. And this was good. For, indeed, for the kinslaying that had raged so rampant in times of the recent past was most horrible indeed. Anbella was certainly granting the sons of Urguan respite after that long and testful time.

 

And what can an old dwarf do during such a time? To fall onto his own sword, aye; some had done so. Many of the utterances hereforth heard did indeed come from such a dwarf, who, upon seeing the dismal state of his kin, had chosen to slay himself rather than face shame. Where he is now is nowhere honorable. Self-sacrifice the domain of Dungrimm is; but suicide doth belong to Khorvad. Yet even from that nether do some whispers remain, albeit unattested, for what good is a dwarf if he has lost his honor and his life? His lips cannot provide excuses. His memory can only soothe the dishonor a little, but even this is remembered by a few. And so the old dwarves sit and discuss, debating half-wittedly, Ogradhad having long abandoned them, on the glories of days passed; musing on this and that, and once in a while unintentionally betraying a word of wisdom.

 

Aye...for what is an old dwarf to do when his beard is too long yet his tenure on this plane too brief to lift the axe? They await their death, hoping that the Brathmordakin will take mercy upon their unindustrious souls with good understanding of their circumstances in time. And so they talk, clutching feeble fingers around tankards of fine ale– for at least this was a time of prosperity for the industrious young, many of which in these Under-Realms would gladly throw a mina or two to the barkeep to keep the lumbering dotards with a belly-full of mead as they await Dungrimm's call.

 

"Eht's guud ale"

"Wot?"

"É saed weir all goin'ta hael"

"Nai a diddun"

"Wot?"

"O shot it will ye ye deaf...ye deaf..."

 

A young Grandaxe passed by and took pity on the stone-skinned elders, too old to be of use any longer, the hair of their beards now greyed and falling; each has their time, and these dwarves were past it.

 

---

 

Occasionally, the ancient ones would have a moment of salience. Brief, aye, but a moment nevertheless. For Ogradhad's servant, the Dragon, did seldom, in his flights to ensure the Balance of Yemekarr, land upon their temples and breath some fire into their ears to rekindle that original flame of knowing. These were often the days when the ale flowed handsomely from the contributions of younger dwarves, and when the beards of these ancients were well-greased with the oil of capon– so that they could ignore their bodily sufferings for a while and converse undistracted. And once in a while, but rarely as always, a youngblood would sit himself near to these stone-skinned ancients and raise an eyebrow, for he would wonder in his mind (perhaps directed by Ogradhad as a mercy to the senile):

 

"And what, mayhaps, have these old ones seen that I have not? Did they see the pillars of KalÚrguan, which were Golems, but of gargantuan size? And do they remember the sparkle in the eyes of the Silverbeards long dead (if, perchance, this name was remembered to him). And were they warriors as we are and did they fight as we do? Or did they slay kin, and gamble, and deject themselves in avarice, as more of us do? What do these ancient ones have to tell us."

 

And, of course, in classic dwarvish fashion, this would manifest itself in plain speech...for, as all should know, a dwarf thinks ten words per one word uttered: many forget that the sons of Urguan are the most intelligent of the races:

 

"Tell me a storeh," would utter the youngblood– within this simple phrase en-captured the entirety of his thought illustrated above– and by Ogradhad's mercy the ancients would receive this and their eyes would light up and their chapped, greased lips curl into a smile, and with a faint breath and shaky diaphragm they would begin to tell the tales of times long since traversed by dwarves long dead:

---

A DIATRIBE ON DISILLUSION

Feasting Dwarves in Khaz'A'Dentrumm; those who were selected at the auction of the Brathmordakin enjoy the company of their kin in eternal feast amidst the Silver Halls of Dungrimm

 

 

"Might it be that we wonder constantly how all relates to us and how we relate to all?" says an ancient, less eloquently and more pointedly, of course. "Aye, for some of us were not always dotards awaiting death. But our faces so liver-marked have become and our eyes so faint have grown, and our once proud voices now whispers and our ambitions long since extinguished, that we are no longer recognized for who we were. How many countless ancients, stone-skinned and nearing death, did once brag titles of great honour in the Legion of Urguan's past? Some can even claim to have been statesmen; others, merchants of repute–although those that were do still enjoy the fruits of their labours! Aye, that is, if they did not gamble their riches away...as most of them, of course, did! HAH! Such is the life of the dwedmar."

 

The young one smiles at the nonsense dribble of the stone-skinned ancient. He gives him some more ale for his belly and buys a cord of wood for the fire; the mines are closed for the night and sleep escapes the youthful laborer– he judges he might be entertained, if not at least lulled to sleep, by the diatribe of the old one.

 

"There are some of us old, forgotten ones that once even bragged the title of King. Aye...but better not be recognized. Those that have been forgotten, whose images do not accommodate a crown well at this old age, most likely never had the temples befitting of a crown. Some of them did not even wear their crowns. Others, victims of the cruelty of time. Others still kinslayers. Yet many more than can be counted men of politics..."

 

"Politics is a useless thing for wise persons. Those who are wise stay away from it unless demanded by the Brathmordakin. Ogradhad despises trifles and despises even more charlatans. There is no truth in such politics; truth is only in action– surely Yemekarr would agree if he woke. Yet when he does wake he shall judge creation harshly...for many stray from the truth and attach to it fanciful details which, plainly put, are lies. Aye– and this is dangerous. For from this comes the DISILLUSION"

 

The young dwarf nods to sleep as the stone-skinned ancients nod and bicker, rubbing their well-fed bellies and scratching their beards which, by this point, are of the length of many meters with great fanciful braids testifying to their age and clan affiliation. One who sits wears a beard braided in great forks and triads; ale and sword. The other's is even longer yet runs wild and is as black as teak; wrath once burned in his heart. The other's resembles fire and is clasped so as to be controllable but comfortable; he once cleaved many an orc with his axe for the sake of honor. Three ancients with three lessons.

 

"Think of how much damage has done this politicking to our kin."

"Aye"

"Aye, Aye, Aye"

 

"Even the wisest of us are tempted by it. All think they bear the best idea for the children of Urguan. Yet Urguan himself knew the folly of this long before our time. Aye, the people select the direction as befitting them and as appropriate by the times. Those who seek to divide are cursed. Those who seeks to unite under an iron first fall hard but are less cursed. Those who dare kinslay are the most wicked of all...and is a kinslayer even any more a dwarf?" queries the one with a last ember of ire in his heart.

 

"Of course." says one other,  "A spawn of Urguan of Urguan will always be. And to kinslay him who has kinslayed to kinslay is. The kinslayer must be punished, but not by the hand of kin; by the mouth of beast, perhaps, or by the hand of an yrrok. This is more just with the gods," quips the dying one with the braided beard of silver and blue ornaments.

 

"Nay, you speak nonesense you drunk. So unusual and cruel and methodic...befitting of your clan! Always a formula; a kinslayer kin is no more, for by slaying kin his kin he has forsaken; and thus, no longer being kin, to slay the kinslayer is to slay; and this is, in and of itself, just by the Brathmordakin," says the spawn of Bogrin, judiciously as always.

 

"Mayhaps you are right. But see," says the aged Ireheart "Look how you manifest disillusion. Surely, you are too wise now for this; Dungrimm doth call. You both agree that a kinslayer to be slain has in his destiny, and how it is done matters not. What is important is not to become DISILLUSIONED over such trifles; they may lead to disunity."

 

The dwarves grumble: Ireheart wit must be given its due credit. A warrior clan bears with it many lessons. These were those that delved into the nether and slew the Khorvadspawn which was Iblées...the Ireheart demand respect. The young dwarf sleeps; a good decision he made sitting by the old ones.

 

"Yet dictatorship too is unacceptable" adds the other stone-skin, "for we may all converge on one point, but to lose that which makes us unique is to polish away at the gem until all of its materiel is sanded into dust. Let yourselves not be DISILLUSIONED, but surely let yourself be DIVERGENT and diverse by that virtue. To converge means not to suppress. To suppress is to disenrich and betray. This is surely a due course for kinslaying, the gravest sin. Rather, accept all in good measure as father URGUAN did in creating our system for the dwarven people, but deny those which are dangerous and DISILLUSIONED."

 

And so the ancient dwarves bickered about semantic, pragmatic, and custom as they slowly drifted into sleep.

 

---

A PRAISE FOR DWARF-KIND

 

 

 

Of the Brathmordakin all dwarves know but of the Anmordakin only those arcane priests and sages remember. To worship an Anmordakin that is not Brathmordakin is surely sin; and the Brathmordakin hate it. For the celestials are Anmordakin but the Primordials are Brathmordakin; and whilst the Brathmordakin are in the larger sense of the world Anmordakin, they are infinitely more divine and second only to YEMEKARR himself who, having done his labor, sleeps until the day when the reckoning shall come and the cycle will finally break. Yet during this slumber, the lesser Anmordakin do serve the Brathmordakin faithfully; for the Brathmordakin have no interest in manifesting directly in our infinitesimally insignificant plane; their duties are to keep the order of the cosmos in BALANCE. And so they send the lesser ones down to look after the descendants and, of course, after their particular favorites, the dwarves of URGUAN who are blessed by pure blood, good heart, and clear mind. Aye, for that vile Khorvadic hex of Greed must at least be kept in check.

 

A folk Dwarven symbol for Ulno, the Warbringer Wolf, part of the larger semantic inventory used to depict Dungrimm

 

 

ULNO the WOLF OF DUNGRIMM stalks the mountains of Agnarum, and his howl is the whistling of the wind, and his growl is the rumble of thunder, and his eyes the stars. ULNO did look upon Kal'Varoth fondly, albeit with hunger. For ULNO was the warbringer, the deathbringer, bearer of plagues; but his white fur remained unseen, accept to those who sacrificed to him discretely, those priests who dared not divulge his presence to anyone else, for ULNO had long followed the dwarven people and brought reckoning to them when DUNGRIMM MOST HIGH demanded it.

 

ULNO scoffed and hissed at himself. What were such morsels in comparison to that havoc of decades recent passed? ULNO loved kinslayers, for in the end it was he who would devour them in eternity in his seven rows of teeth. But his mouth was shut by the divine spell of DUNGRIMM MOST HIGH who forbade him to wreak havoc at this time, for the Under-Realm of Urguan had proven itself to him as valiant and honorable, and these dwarves of this age were forged from hard-beaten mettle of conflicts of great horror; and, much like the steel blade which undergoes much trauma to strengthen, so were these young dwarves– tempered with the blood of those they once even called their kin. These were good dwarves. Hopefully their children would not be so good, for ULNO was growing hungry for the dishonorable...

 

Anbella begging Dungrimm for mercy for the Dwarven people after the great Kinslaying

 

ULNO heard the rustle and dissipated into the yonder quickly, for other Anmordakin were nearby; AENNA, sprite of ANBELLA MOST HIGH, and THE DRAGON, servant of OGRADHAD MOST HIGH, stalked Agnarum unseen; they were the breezes and sweet spring airs. They were the flowers that bloomed and the leaves that carpeted the ground in golden glory. They were the good harvest and the good king, and the good kirkja and the good custom...for this time of the Under Realms was the time of good, of the Algiz rune turned fork-side up; and very auspicious their presence was. Together, AENNA and THE DRAGON did smile upon the dwarves. And they uttered joyfully:

 

AUROK'GALAT OZ URGUAN'RUMM HH

ENN-NARH'THREIN'TOK RULKAHD DAG KORMAR NA ANNAK HL

NA ENN'MER'TOK KORTHON KEZNOLMAR YOTH-KARGOL UR-KORTHIAN MER DWAK'RUMM H

 

Praise be to the sons of Urguan!

May from them be born a crown of stars and valor;

And may their ancestors forever of them be proud.

---

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cold breezes are made to seem tempests, exacerbated by the winter’s brisk night-air,  no cloak nor drape sufficient shield ‘gainst their assault. The lone dwarf wobbles toward a billboard with a parchment fast in hand at dusk’s nadir. The streets of Agnarum and Holm are empty. His steps are unheard and unseen. Quickly and crudely he nails his papers, gone swift as he came. 

 

 

<<

Was it truly Khorvad who cursed us with greed?

Or did he simply cast off Yemekarr’s blessings?

And let what hence had resided deep within us,

Surface,

Like impurities in the crucible? 

 

Urguan had his greed.

It served him some well, but did to him the worst of things.

For greed is no double edged sword; it is an old, rusted hatchet.

With its blunted ax we spill kinsblood and rejoice at riches plundered,

At grudges settled,

At enemies slain.

 

We have forgotten the consequences.

 

  

 

And all the while its rusted shaft digs into our palms,

But we are blinded to it by the ecstasy of victory.

It feels to us as but a sting, and we say:

“It was worth it, these riches, and traded for but a scrape!”

We feel as if we have cheated the Gods; We rejoice!

 

But we cannot cheat the Gods...

For they are the greatest of cheaters.

The consequences for cheating the Gods are dire.

We have forgotten the story of Khorvad. 

 

 

In due time we feel the fever of greed:

those rusty scrapes their poison begin to deal.

At first our mouthes run dry,

and soon our eyes grow heavy…

the water which sustains us becomes ever harder to swallow.

And we drink until we can no longer,

to dull the pain so that it may go away.

But this pain will never go away.

We ignore it nonetheless.

 

And only when the blackened tetanus,

veined with hate and fueled by spilt kinsblood,

sent to spite us by Dungrimm himself,

on our arm becomes too painful and apparent to ignore,

do we awaken to the truth and scamper for a cure.

 

But, hark! Now is time too late.

For no wiccan can construe a cure,

and no Alchemist an elixir make,

to quell this curse of the Gods,

which death sentences by divine hate. 

 

So sleep now Sons of Urguan,

Sleep for your honor has left you. 

So sleep now, Sons of Urguan,

sleep for your fathers detest you.

 

A kinslayer his hearth defiles with ambition and greed,

and will surely suffer in Dor’Vuur.

The bystander who this deed sees but ‘stead of stop it, flees,

twice cursed shall be for sure.

He cannot hope to taste Belka’s sweet nectar,

in Khaz’a’Dentrumm.

 

So sleep now, Sons of Urguan,

Sleep for your honor has left you.

Die now, disowned of the first one,

For from the grave your ancestor mocks you.

 

Dwarfkind exists no longer,

only bare-cheeked shadows remain.

Splintered is the arm that once bore the hammer,

which to the world balance did ordain.

 

 

A kinslayer still is kin,

And surely the Gods shall judge him harshly.

But are we the Gods?

 

To slay a kinslayer to kinslay is. 

For blood is not water,

and kin always kin remains.

 

So sleep now, lost sons of Urguan.

Your deeds your souls forever have stain’d.

And die now, ye sons of Urguan.

Your courage and honor never you shall see again. 

>>

 

 

Once upon a time there was a dwarf pale of skin.

 

He was walking to his home when he had a heart attack and died.

 

And so ended the life of Kardel.

Person/s Involved: @Tythus@LotCCommunity

Person/s with permission to post within the report: @Tythus@Community

Rules Broken: 

• Cyberbullying, rule abuse, harassment, and other antagonistic behaviour will get you banned. Even if you break no rules, we reserve the right to prevent you from using our services. 

Relevant Evidence: 

 

 

This thread is CHOCK FULL of RACISM and HARRASMENT to LOTC MINORITY GROUPS. Obviously Tythus is using Black Panther as a metaphor for MINORITIES and the Avengers as an imperalistic glorification of formerly colonial WHITE powers. This is a blantant attack on members of color of the LotC community and i DEMAND that Tythus IMMEDIATELY resign and hand over LotC to Scene21, who through his contributions has shown to be CHARITABLE and HOSPITABLE TO MINORITIES. #metoo

Proof you attempted to resolve the issue with person/s involved:

 

The fact that such a thing is even asked of me shown the racist, ableist and HIGHLY OFFENSIVE. I shouldn't have to communicate with Tythus and endure FURTHER HARASSMENT. This issue is DISGUSTING and should be resolved IMMEDIATELY. 

Holy ******* ****

 

did u just do RACISM?

 

Ban report incoming

Kadraz bin Herod al Irongutii wraps the keffiyeh around his head, donning the scarf of the mujahedin and pulling his coat tight over the alchemical potions straped to his vest.

 

He prays to Yemekarallah (swy) before slowly marching into the cloud temple in the name of the cause. He remembers the 72 dark elven maids.

 

He utters one last prayer before it all goes black...

 

 

Username PizzeriaDjango [Formerly Ziko]

 

Timezone EST

 

Group/Nation: Consulate of Holm

 

Have you ever held a staff position before?

I am currently ET builder and have been both actor and builder, as well as manager, several times in the past. I was briefly LK during Athera and was WT during Vailor and Athera.

 

Have you ever been banned before?

Once, but by my own request.

 

What style of events do you feel you enjoy creating?

I love whimsical events which follow the traditional "questing" recipe, particularly for groups of more than 5 players, as they allow for satisfaction all around. However, I also firmly believe in only doing events to contribute to larger eventlines, as random standalone events are unprofessional and frankly puerile. Without relying too much on dishing out the plot, a whimsical event which contributes to a larger story gives momentary satisfaction to the participants while also setting the stage for future developments without necessitating too many resources.

I also enjoy making the very opposite: small events catering to 5 players which are very RP heavy, often even including RP combat (aka the anathema of the ET). These events are the engine of storylines and, if well coordinated, can do wonders in advancing plots and bringing eventlines to life.

 

List three factors you feel play a part in quality event and expand upon them

A good event is, first and foremost, well planned. Without a plan, an event quickly devolves into chaos. It is almost formulaic. The higher amount of players present, the more planning an event needs. If an event has not been truly planned, it often shows: delayed emote times, choppy RP, chaotic movement about the event build, etc. Unplanned events also often manifest themselves as taking a long time. In order to truly produce a quality event, planning is imperative.

 

Secondly, a good event is original and imaginative. I remember that under Kai, we had an unspoken rule that you could not simply steal events and characters from other videogames/franchises and input them into LotC. For all of those who have been on the ET long enough, it is known that the Ricelord's [RIP] regime over the ET was considered a golden age for events. Original events offer novelty and true surprise: their plots cannot be guessed, since they have not been derived from other games which the playerbase has probably played. Reading IRL myth, history, and folklore really helps in creating such original plots.

 

Most importantly, a good event is dynamic and interactive. An experienced actor knows not to impose a single solution to the obstacles he has created, and should welcome innovation by the player by knowing when to adapt his story to the moment. Adding that interactive element allows the player to feel more responsible for the ultimate outcome of the event, and thus allows them to become more closely attached to the characters and plotline as a whole. The most memorable eventlines (Ondnarch, Undead, Setherien) all had this interactivity which failed eventlines (Gazadriel) lacked. 

 

Which member(s) of the team would you attempt to emulate, and why?

I mean I really don't want to say I'd emulate a member on the team. I've been an ET for much longer than many current members have and have my own style of doing things. I always take inspiration from the lessons Kai provided us with during 3.0, and I like to think I have a nice working relationship with Dreek [TheButler]. Zezimus will always remain close to my heart when it comes to constructing plotlines. Other than that, I do not want to emulate anyone: rather, I want to offer a different and time-tempered perspective on the event acting process. 

 

Provide three event scenarios of the styles you listed above

Rather than provide three scenarios, here as some eventlines that I have written/coordinated in the past. Many of my eventlines have been inevitably lost, and these are the only ones I could find:

 

Vailor Deeproads Eventline:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1m79Wed-GhKdIucaEgY-iRe4taohx75lO62stB-qHMcU/edit

 

Irongut Eventline:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_UQF-8r-Swj1gjIgFQhlNbaGvhuKUS_rDUrIb_aaZ3c/edit

 

 

 

Why do you wish to become an Event Team Actor?

I wish to become an Event Team Actor to have more flexibility in my work within the ET. I am already a builder and would, in addition to helping others set up their 'stages,' create and utilize my own sets. The Actor-Builder combination makes for an ideal ET, in my opinion, as it allows one to both write their own screenplay while making their own props, ensuring complete cohesion between the actor's expectations and the builder's reality.

 

What are your strengths and weaknesses?

I am a perfectionist, and will often spend more time then necessary building up plotlines/builds, but I am attempting to ameliorate this. Furthermore, I function on a tight schedule due to having recently graduated from University: I am currently working a full time job and taking classes for the LSAT.

 

How much time could you give this position in the foreseeable future?

At least 20 hours a week.

sometimes i think "LotC has no chill" and this is true

 

ya'll should take some xans they help fr

Ok, see you soon!

 

Make a Holmiote dwarf when u come back. 

Writing Submission

 

 

Minecraft Account Name(s) PizzeriaDjango (Formerly Ziko)

Discord Kardel#6445

How long have you played on LoTC? About 6 years now, since early Asulon

Timezone and Availability EST

 

What lore are you versed in most?

I am most well versed in Dwarven and Alchemy lore, having been roleplaying with those two themes for all six year's I've been on LotC. I am also well versed in Magic Lore, plant lore, and world lore in general.

 

Give a summary of any staff positions you have held on LoTC

I have been ET Manager several times, and during my tenure I hosted and helped coordinate a large variety of eventlines: I first helped with the Ondnarch event line in 3.0 and then most recently finished a Dwarven eventline in Axios. I was an LK during Athera, where I briefly worked on world lore. I have also been part of the Wiki Team, where I heavily contributed to the list of dwarven kings and standardized the page for Paragons.

 

Have you ever written lore for LoTC?

I have written several articles of lore for LotC. Most of this lore is player-oriented lore, regarding charters, languages, and folktales. I have contributed a good bit to Alchemy lore, helping Lago with his Alchemist's Fire lore and crafting the lore for the potion of regeneration myself. I helped RedBench a long time ago with his reagent addition lore for 3.0. I also worked on lore which has now fallen out of canon due to, I presume, inactivity: Advanced Alchemy, which was essentially reagent manipulation. Other than this, I have written more event lore than I can count, having directed several event lines when I was ET Manager (mostly dwarves).

 

Functional Document for Dwinic, the Dwarven Dialect of Holm: 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Lmm6tAbYr4_uu91XFHBDu4QwbKyDHgT8CMyw2y40zIk/edit?usp=sharing

 

Dwarven Religious Texts:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1OtdUX8SUa19a_UZYtSEZxjjjVuofH7xd0_oTV2IjG-8/edit

 

Original Document for magic concept which was later accepted as Hou-Zi Chi Manipulation magic (I wrote the original idea when I used to play a Hou-Zi when I was ET in Axios):

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Ym3-CHsYoIA2aqkAfw9t2s4rNqnolXUc7Tb2bxJw_P0/edit?usp=sharing 

 

Vailor Dwarven Eventline Background Lore:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1m79Wed-GhKdIucaEgY-iRe4taohx75lO62stB-qHMcU/edit?usp=sharing 

 

Old Magic Concept, unfinished but interesting:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1aUsYbnmhYqDnXTLw1hmoGWh9aCrxzjUlfrcL-fmKzmk/edit?usp=sharing 

 

Im pretty sure there is more of my stuff around, but to be frank I've never bothered to save it and have let the forums carry it out into sea

 

Have you ever received a blacklist or ban?

I was banned a while ago in 4.0 as per my personal request, as I wanted to put some distance between myself and the server.

 

Who do you not get along with on the Lore Team?

I do not know of anyone on the lore team that I have any issues with, and am used to working in team environments

Mashallah

((MC Name:  PizzeriaDjango))

 

((RP)) Name: Kardel Irongut

 

Known Arcane Arts: Sensory Illusion, Fire Evocation, Advanced Alchemy

 

Position Desired (Student or Instructor): Student AND Instructor

 

When is the best time to contact you for an interview((Discord)): Kardel#6445