Z3r05t4r

"Even when opponents in war, music binds us all alike, no matter the side they are fighting on." states an old man of unknown affiliation.

Also, great video in the OP, we need more of that. +2

Of Ash and Earth – By Law, Honor and Loyalty 20th of Tobias’ Bounty, Year 105 Second Age “All forces halt! We set camp here.” The commanding voices of the coalition army leaders echoed faintly in the ears of this aging man. Frankly, he did not even want to be here. But the King ordered and by law he was obliged. By honor he maintained a stern expression and his silence. By loyalty to those he left home back home he marched. The ruins of the two castles they sieged in the preceding months still looming in the distance, dark shadows against the pale moonlight on this evening. Weary dark grey eyes, lined with wrinkles from the many decades he had to shoulder. He glanced around camp, men and women gathered around their campfires if not asleep or on night watch duty. From all walks of life, each with their own path through time and existence. A wondrous thing indeed. Strange how a man finds time to contemplate such. But given the years of time he has been granted on this world… if there is nothing better to do with it, then why not dabble in philosophy. 21st of Tobias’ Bounty, early morning A horn blares, followed by drums thrumming in the early morning. Awoken, ate some cold rations, geared up. Breathed deeply for a minute to push out the pain in the bones and limbs. The years even wear down those with the most iron constitution. Such is the fate of humans. “Assemble, assemble! The enemy is on the march!” Now in the early light of the morning everyone was the same. Drab in heavy plate armor that rubs open the skin and makes muscles sore at the end of the day. Good protection, but uncomfortable. Better safe than dead though. The column began to move. 21st of Tobias’ Bounty, midday They circled them like vultures. But vultures wait, these didn’t. Pelted with arrows and javelins, the lines marched forward. And back. And forward. Whenever the King and his men commanded. “Headless chickens.” The man murmured. His heart was pumping. Not of joy, not of anger, not of disdain. But only because it was a physical exercise. At that age to be expected. Cursed heavy armor. “Formation about face!” the command comes. The column turned and so did he. By law, honor, and loyalty. 21st of Tobias’ Bounty, early afternoon Frantic and in disarray. The King was struck down. Alive? The remaining forces remained composed. Into a forest they went. And then back out they marched into the open fields, through a tunnel. But the vultures were always present, picked at them. Back and forth. The man eyed the men on his left and right to whom he has grown accustomed. Left one was the same. Right one… was a different face. Closed up the gap, the youngster who was there earlier was no more. Likely bled out in the forests they just left behind. “Headless chickens.” The man grumbled. “Troops, about! We march for the forest!” the command came again. By law, honor, and loyalty, he marched. 21st of Tobias’ Bounty, late afternoon The clash of metal was deafening, for the first time the vultures closed in. Mounted riders crashed down into lose formations. The trees helped and the coalition footmen were able to pick off a few, but under tremendous losses for themselves. A distant command rang to the ears of the old man, as he avoided a charging rider by ducking behind a tree. The plate clad coalition soldiers began to trudge off. Wait. There he was again. The young man who was on right in the morning. Panicked. Running away. For his life. “Headless chickens.” The old man grunted, took a breath. Pushing out the pain, pushing out the tiredness, pushing out the years. He began moving, just to see the young man being ridden down by the vultures. Though this close… not all of them are vultures. Some fight for law. Some for honor. Others for loyalty. And of course, money. Can’t blame them for that. The man moved between the trees as swiftly as he could. But by then, it was already clear that it was too late. The broken up formation, dispersed among the trees had moved on, back to the tunnel. The armor heavy. The breathing hard. “I guess it is time to go.” The man said. --- 21st of Tobias’ Bounty, Year 159 of the Second Age. Thondorus II. Stafyr, Line of Hanethor, aged 105 years, dies in the battle of the “Ashen Skies”. His body falls to Earth in the forests South-West of Brasca. He leaves behind no children. --- “I am sorry, Arthur-Konrad. That took me a while.”

"These are some accurate accounts. Rare to see in these days." murmurs a man who was there and part of it.

"I wish you all the best for your final rest. You had your quirks but you were one tough mother to these Stafyrs. Good on you. Give my regards to those who went before us." An aging Thondorus (the Older) mumbles, having received the news. "I ought to spend more time with family... I feel I missed so much..."

You took my skygod dirt. I am down to 2 blocks now. I had 24 and already had to leave behind 4. Such a cruel fate.

Looking back like this really brings up memories, considering I have been a player for the majority of the realms listed. It's amazing how much player history can be shown in such a compact image, considering the depth and diversity, the actions and events that took place. +2 if I could, very nice.

To quote myself in a reply I made for another thread, but distinctly fits to the topic. Also made a new post:

I have not read into detail for the particular regions too much, but I did focus on your central bulletpoints. One thing you address is dead space. Whilst I agree that dead space should be taken care of, we must be wary of how much dead space we cull. What nobody wants is another Athera, where everything is packed together tightly. The King's Road does not work (not speaking against the Ring Road, that is actually a good idea). Size is important, yes, too big is bad, but too small is even worse. What I'd strongly promote is to establish a distinct visual distance. Visual and perceived distance between notable locations such as cities, outposts, holds, event sites, etc. can go a long way before it becomes apparent that things are too close to eachother. And it should be noted that dead space is not always dead space, but can be interpreted as "canvas" to grow and develop in.

The Galmarch RACE: Primarily Human, Eastern and Central Galrunian with various Empire minorities present in the cities and towns. MAGIC / SORCERY: Marble Court BRIEF DESCRIPTION / HISTORY: On first glance the Galmarch appears to be a simple feudal realm with familiar structures of nobles and commoners, lords ruling over holdings and settlements, answering in a hierarchy to the Lord of the Galmarch, who by rank is a Duke in the Empire. Delving deeper into the people’s livelihoods however reveals more distinct habits and customs. The fair skinned inhabitants of the Galmarch have a long history of husbandry, having tamed and grazed their animals on the plains of the Galmarch for many years, starting to do so not long after the arrival on the continent. The fertile soil gave basis to a thriving agriculture as well something that is reflected in their simple but nutritious cuisine. As their homelands are quite expansive, the fastest method of transport was strongly cultivated and is still a central pillar of their society today. Horses. Some may say there are no finer horsemen than the Galrunians of the Galmarch, far in the North of the Empire. However, as much prosperity there is, there is an equal amount of conflict and it has not been unusual for the Galrunians to be beset upon by warbands of orcs and goblins. The latter do live in the regions beyond mountains to the Northwest. As a natural response, the settlements are by tendency more located on hills and high grounds, well-fortified by palisades or walls of stone, for the case a hostile force shall start to threaten their homesteads and livelihoods. To bolster their defenses a response force naturally formed itself out of the ruling caste of the Galmarch, the so called “Galmarcher”, heavy armored knights that thunder swiftly across the plains to crush any incursions before they get a chance to raid or plunder effectively. As the recent war with the neighbouring Kingdom of Estria drags on, the amount of these incursions into the Galmarch have increased as the focus and manpower of the Empire lies elsewhere, leaving the Galrunians to fend for themselves. With Lord Torenfal now in charge following the death of his father, the previous lord, it remains to be seen where things will go. LEADER / NOTABLE CHARACTERS: Lord Torenfal Renenbrandt, Lord (Duke) of the Galmarch Having come to power at the age of thirty, Torenfal stands alone at the top of the Galmarch, having lost his father and his younger brother only recently in the West as the Empire continues its advance against the Kingdom of Estria. On one hand he is bound by oath to the Empire and would love for his kinsmen in the West to pledge to the mightiest realm of mankind, but on the other hand he and his fellow Galrunians have been ordered to fight their own people in Galrun, something that does more than just put a strain on his oath. What direction may he take is unclear, but it is known that this stern and pragmatic man is willing to commit to his ideals. MAP LOCATION (ONLY WITHIN OR NEAR TO ANDUVIA): The plains and hills between the swamp and goblin mountains, stretching from the Akzizbuzal Foothills down into lower Galrun. UNIQUE UNIT: Galmarcher A caste of knights dedicated to the code of chivalry, honor, loyalty. They are the sons of Galrian nobility, forming a well-trained core of the forces of the Galmarch. Thunderous their charge, fearless in battle and devastating their blows, the Galmarcher knights dominate the battlefields in the plains, swiftly turning the tide on losing battles and changing even bouts into crushing defeats for their foes. Naturally, with their position as nobles of the realm, wealth and corresponding high-quality equipment comes. The finest steeds, the sturdiest of armor and the sharpest of blades. They may be seen as heavy cavalry but are without a doubt a cut above the rest. POINT OF INTEREST: Farhold, the castle built in the heart of the Galmarch, on a vantage point capable of overseeing the entire stretch of Eastern Galrun. It is a well-fortified hold, supposedly build decades ago with the aid of Dwarven craftsmen, making it unassailable with its layered thick fortress walls, high and sturdy towers, lined with siege weapons to counter foes on the ground and even the sky. Ever since its construction it has served as the seat of the Renenbrandt family and in the years following the accession of the Galmarch into the Empire as a stronghold where Imperial Forces may gather, train and march from.