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The_Mad_Skylord

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  1. THE FOMORIANS “In days long passed, in times long gone, In Fomoire was a great man born, Skilled with blade and quick with spear, Bold and fierce and without fear, Blessed with a golden mane, And wife so fair she was his bane. For beauty is a fickle thing, And envy oft upon the wing, For Goddess saw this lovely maid, Her shining hair bound in braid, And so struck Morgá in her pride To claim noble Daithí’s bride. Earnest rage did fill his heart, And he strove to do a husband’s part, Axe he hefted and spear he raised, His loyal soul to e’er be praised, When came Morgá for his wife, He met the demon with his life. With burnished mail and polished helm, He boldly strode into her realm. Her minions him came forth to kill, His swinging blade sang his will, Before his rage they did flee, Fearful of that cruel melee. Through Her cur he did cut, His vengeance wreaked upon Her mutts, Weeks did pass and months did turn, While the realm of Morgá burned. Finally in fear She cried, ‘Take her now, your wretched bride!’ But treachery was afoot, His wife returned but rendered mute, She could not warn him of the fate, That bade even Morgá wait. Sprung upon by demon’s cruel, Cooked into a giant’s gruel. With Daithí slain his love did weep, She swore vengeance ‘pon his foes to reap. Laughing at this feeble maid, The demons shaved her stunning braid, But in the haste of their act, They thought not of an ancient pact. For Fomor saw and Fomor heard, His fist clenched tight upon his beard. His cry echoed across the sky, Faster than even birds do fly. ‘Morgá in you wretchedness, Dare you touch what I have blessed!? And as She cowered in her terror, Did Fomor deign to right her error. Their souls were blessed with His grace, Forever through His stars to race. And even now through His night sky, The guiding light of Daithí will meet your eye.” The Fomorians are a proud and warlike race, but they are also a people of song and poem, of dance and drink. Ancient Fomorian legend tells tales of Daithí, a mighty warrior whose wife is stolen by the jealous and petty Morgá, a Goddess famed for her fickle cruelty. The Ballad of Daithí is particularly relevant in Fomorian society as it partly explains two key tenants of Fomorian beliefs and faith – the reverence in which the North Star – or Daithí’s Star – is held and the great importance placed upon hair as a symbol of status in Fomoire. Among men, beards and manes are covetously maintained, and braided through with rings made from enemy spear heads, gems and coins given as wedding gifts and with the wedding-lock of their wife’s hair. For Widowers, it is exceptionally common to cut jagged shapes into a beard, and to braid it in such a fashion as to emphasize grief and heartache, often with a wedding-lock and a grief-lock taking the center stage of such an arrangement. For women, the length of her hair is the most important factor. Among the common folk, women grow their hair down to just below their shoulders, carefully braided and set. Among the nobility, however, a woman’s hair can cascade down her back to just above her knees, presenting an incredible display of braids and shining locks. In Fomoire, only the shamed shave their heads. -From the shared port of Muineachán sails the longboats of the Fomorians, tightly packed with their bands of raiding warbands. Their goal; to burn and pillage along the coast of Eibental, Linz and Orgenz, taking wealth and slaves. After some weeks of raiding, the three nations will be offered respite – in return for paying hefty tribute to the Chieftains and Warlords of Fomoire, and accepting their ‘protection’ as vassals. [MOD – 30 Longboats deployed] -Through the Cíuin Sea prowl a force of longboats, making their way to the shores of both the Catmen and the Insimbi, hunting for exotic slaves to sell to the markets of Ithaca and the Bundesreich. [MOD – 20 Longboats deployed] -Trade is established with the Republic of Ithaca, the Hith Cities and the Bundesreich. -The Fomorians begin large scale slave exports, raiding many places specifically for slaves to sell. [MOD] -Fomorian troops carefully gather near the capital, ready to respond to troop movements from either its northern or southern neighbor. -An emissary is sent to the Shatterlands, offering Fomorian services in the battle against Roymar – for a very hefty price, of course! [MOD]
  2. Discord: You have it Civilisation (Name): The Fomorians Capital (Name): Muineachán Government (Empire, Republic, etc, you may go into details): A rough confederation of many Fomorian clans, tribes and warbands, loosely ruled by a council of kings, chiefs and warlords. Racial Distribution (Primary Race, probably minorities?): Fomorians The lands of Fomoire are inhabited almost universally by the Fomorians. Fomorians are typically a tall, broad shouldered people, with long, bushy hair that comes in a myriad of colours – from shining gold to burnished copper. Fomorians are largely distinguished by a pair of horns – these horns can take the shape of long, bull like horns, or the curling horns of a ram. Though they dwell on the southern shores of the Old World, they are a people as pale as snow, and do not tan or burn, even if they spend days naked in the blazing sun. Fomorians are exceptionally well traveled and have been seen in all corners of the Old World, as traders, as mercenaries and as raiders. War is, after all, in Fomorian blood, and they travel far and wide to either sell their swords or to simply take whatever isn’t nailed to the floor. Racial traits (as needed): A Nation of Warriors The Fomorians are, ultimately, a race of warriors. Born to wield the sword and spear in battle, Fomorians are exceptionally skilled in the art of war, and make a great deal of wealth plying that skill as both raiders and sellswords. Mages and Craftsmen Through the veins of the Men of Fomoire runs great magical talent for the more ancient, primordial magics of the world. Fomorian sorcerors are skilled in bending the elements to their will, twisting wind, summoning rain and forging fire at will. Additionally, Fomorian craftsmen are incredibly skilled in their crafts – though Fomorian smithing and ship building are ancient and closely guarded arts. Bred for the Sea Fomorians are natural sailors – something of a requirement for a people that makes a living as merchants, raiders and mercenaries. The Old Ways The Fomorians are a nation stuck in the Old Ways, passed down by their fathers, and their fathers’ fathers. They shun new ways and technologies, preferring to stick firmly to the tried and true method – even if it is slower or less effective. They are a technologically stagnant society. Religion (Whatever you prefer, you may be creative): Fomorians worship the progenitor of their race – Fomor, son of Bres. Fomorian myth teaches that Bres had two sons, Fomor and Cethlenn. The sons of these two deities came to be known as the Fomorians and the Cethlians. The Cethlians were a tall race, brutish and strong, and waged many wars against their Fomorian cousins. Eventually they were cast down by the Sons of Fomor, who solidified their rule over their joint homelands ever after. Technology & Arcana (that is notable; have you pursued magic? Be fair and remember to do tradeoffs): The Fomorians have exceptional skill in elemental magics – having great talent in manipulating the rawest forms of magic and nature. However, the Fomorians also have a great phobia of technology, regarding advancement in technology as a great evil. Description (Culture, history, politics etc): WIP Geography & location (As detailed as you wish, with a note on the map below as to where your realm would be in existence): Size (Tying in with racial distribution, as well as geographic location. Be just, the map is only that big):
  3. DUCHY OF GALLIAN Camebry Castle was a squat, ugly fortification perched atop the crest of a steep hill, bare and featureless save for the winding road leading up to the gates. Camebry had long been the ancestral home of the House of Antegenet, and even in the days of that House ruling the entire duchy, the old border castle often found itself home to the Duke of Gallian for, despite its appearance, the castle was actually a rather comfortable home, especially in winter when it was heated from below by a sizable hot spring. For days, riders and companies had been arriving in ever greater numbers to the castle – musicians sang and played the instruments in the courtyard and the hallways, while entertainers danced and frolicked to please fickle lordlings who were bored with the constant dallying of their Lord Camebry in setting off for Klagenfurt. Tailors hurriedly measured their masters and swiftly set to making outfits that were both warm and to the styles of the latest fashions in court. All this great activity, however, was counterbalanced by the overwhelming sedentary state of the Lord Gallian and what should be his retinue. For weeks now the Duke of Gallian had procrastinated in his duties – the King summoned his vassals to court to swear fealty, and Roger of Camebry delayed – making a statement one might say. It was well known among the peerage that Sir Roger was ill-disposed towards the idea of a female regent, and clearly he was going to make such an opinion known by arriving late to the proceedings, despite being the closest of the Duchies. Still, finally the Duke of Gallian did depart from his comfortable seat of Camebry, and made for Klagenfurt. -Duke Roger was not idle during his delay – the Duke of Gallian begins to expand his retinue. He offers a place in his household to any second or third born son from across the Kingdom who finds themselves with their knightly spurs but no land to call their own. To these landless knights he offers them the opportunity to prove themselves worthy of being granted estates in his own lands. (Mod for recruiting a professional force of knights) -In addition, the Duke gives minor land grants to several knights and courtiers already in his service, seeking to increase the number of lances he can summon to arms. (Mod for expanding the size of the Knight section of the levy)
  4. THE DUCHY OF GALLIAN For long and long, the House of Antegenet have been residents of Gallian, ruling a short tract of mostly dusty farmland along the southern fringes of the Duchy, where they held sway of the marches. The fortunes of Antegenet changed in recent times, when the previous Duke, Richard, led an ill conceived attempt to establish an independent kingdom in the South-West. Swiftly stamped out, Richard found himself subject to attainder and execution, and his more loyal Antegenet cousins swiftly found themselves achieving mastery of the Duchy. Many of the new Antegenet vassals chafed at the notion of serving a relatively minor and impoverished house of border lords as opposed to the deposed House of Gallius, and John I of Antegenet spent most of his rule fighting and putting down small rebellions and nomadic incursions from the south, however, by 1369 Antegenet rule was solidified and John passed down a relatively united Duchy to his son, Roger of Camebry, who seeks largely to extend his influence and authority, and means to take advantage of a weakened Crown in order to do it.
  5. CHICAGO ENGINEERS UNION -The remnants of a mighty vessel indeed... The Locomotive Gods are honoured greatly – the Chief Engineer commands the destroyed machine be raised up on blocks, and that there be an effort to re-purpose her. Faulty machinery and other such dross is stripped away and examined, to see how easy it would be to repair, while and examination of the engine goes underway, to see what still works. Paul Hughes, a rather talented engineer, takes charge of the process. (4 Intelligence, 2 Perception) [MOD] -Meanwhile, the ruined carriages provide an ample source of material, and the Chief Engineer orders them scrapped. [MOD] -Jack Aubrey (2 Intelligence, 3 Perception, 1 Luck) leads a party of 9 other Trained men, dressed in T1 Power Armour, into the block directly to the east of the CEU HQ. [MOD] -CEU research this year goes into expanding the yield of metal production facilities. (6R) [MOD]
  6. Bit ******* cheeky to go making a shitty freeform FRP when there's already a Fallout FRP in play. Shame on you!
  7. CHICAGO ENGINEERS UNION -As the CEU slowly begins to stir to life, the Chief-Engineer order his men to make a thorough search of Chicago Union Station, searching for anything from metals, to radios, to trains that may be of use to the CEU. -15 men are drafted into the army, and given rudimentary training. (1500 Caps) -Research on T1 Heavy Firearms (10/10) -Research on T1 Explosives (2/5) -Production of T1 Power Armour. (2M, 2E, 1F) -Level 5 Block Defenses on the Chicago Union Station. (2500 Caps) https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1Zo74F-KBgjkt7qqXZf5jewfUycMBudlltmAFMCHj4QU/edit#gid=0
  8. Faction Name: Chicago Engineers Union Civilization Type: Civilised  Faction Backstory: The CEU was founded before the bombs dropped, a Union for the representation of Engineers, Mechanics, Technicians and other such types, that eventually went on to represent Railwaymen, such as the men who built the tracks and ran the locomotives. The CEU survived the day the bombs dropped and the ensuing chaos, and spent most of the next centuries hunkered in the subways of Chicago, passing down their mechanical knowledge and skills from generation to generation. The CEU is governed by the Council of Engineers, with the Chief-Engineer currently being Francis O'Donovan. Francis, or Francy as his friends know him, harbors the ancient dream of all past Chicago Engineers Union members - the railroads must be restored! Characters (Minimum 1, Max 5) Francis O'Donovan, Chief-Engineer  Character 1 (Leader): Robert "Bob" Driscoll, Chief of Demolitions  Character 2 (Custom): Paul Hughes, Chief of Technicians Character 3 (Custom): Jacob Kennedy, Chief of Construction  Character 4 (Custom): Darragh Reilly, Chief of Production  Character 5 (Custom): John "Lucky Jack" Aubrey, Chief of Guards
  9. From within the deep places of the Shatter Peaks came the first sign of Divinity in five thousand year. Diamond-hard scales scored stone, and ivory white teeth the length of spears parted to allow a huge forked tongue to flicker out, as a single great yellow eye opened and glared through the darkness. Age had not altered the caverns that Exitius had slept within, for little lived among the Shatter Peaks, and even the Under-creatures feared to walk beneath the horrific screaming wind. The Dragon shifted, and began to sweep down the tunnels, coiling and writing through the narrow space, forcing his massive serpentine body through rock, until he reached the outside. Almost immediately, he swept his wings open and allowed that constant screaming wind to power him into the air. The Dragon roared, a sound that pierced all, that thundered across the broad plane of existence and echoed in every house, every hole, tunnel and wood. A shout that rattled windows and doors in their frames for a thousand miles. A shout that declared the return of the God of Destruction. For a long time, Exitius merely soared, examining the world. It amused him no end to see Kaha-Nu-Buhu's final attempt to spite him, a race of beasts that worshipped a Lady who had faded from time. It amused him less to learn the extent of his Children's heresy. Eventually, growing bored of his wandering, Exitius found himself among the Court of the God-King, not as a dragon, but as a huge black Venandi, coiled with scale and red tribal tattoos, red eyes glaring at the courtiers. "So you have forgotten my mercy..." His voice had echoed through that court room. "Two foes you have, Children of Tyrannos, both you have failed to destroy. Should you wish to retain my favour, I look upon you to defeat them." And then he had vanished, to wander once more, bored and idle. Save for an idea, a chance to create such a great orchestra of Chaos, a chance to be truly entertained by this world. With this in mind, he set off for Adamant, cruel intentions abound. Influence God Touched - Aimatiros III, God-King of Venandar, becomes the first God-King in five millennia to receive a command from his Great-Grandfather. It is rather simple - muster the legions and crush the Redsworn and the Nacatl, or risk losing the favour of Exitius. 1 AP Command Avatar - Exitius flies to Adamant, where he uses his powers to force Adamant into a change of foreign policy. They will militarise, and seek to build a Coalition of states against the Venandi God-Kings. 4 AP 2 AP remaining
  10. THE PRINCEDOMS OFVOLARUCIO  The Liberation of Auld By sword, pike and crossbow was the city of Auld freed from the iron fisted grasp of the Lithborn oppressor. Thousands of good Volarucian men had died, all in the name of restoring the Light of God over the Holy Lands, and freeing the believers from their heathen masters. Corpses, still fresh, strewed the field. Men wandered around, bereft of arms and armour, gathering equipment, valuables and the bodies of their fellow soldiery, in the low mist of the early morning. Above, on the high stone walls, the purple and black banners of Auldhau, unseen for centuries, once again fluttered over the ancient seat of Magic, the heart of Edios’ worshipers. Damp grass was crushed underfoot as a single column, near five hundred men strong, dressed in suits of fine plate and purple cloaks, crossed the bloody field to the gates of Auld. Over their heads floated the banners of Volarucio and Auldhau, the coat of arms of both Prince August and the personal crest of the Knights of Auldhau. Into the city went this column, in their near religious ceremony, slow and methodical in their advance. Nobly to the fore went August III of Toulagoza, and immediately behind him rode his mages and his adepts, the priests and the chaplains of the army, the Cardinal of the Faith, and then the Knights – his honour guard. Horse hooves clattered along cobbled streets as men, women and children watched this procession move through the blood stained pathways of the city, cleared of corpses but still overrun with the malodorous stink of death. Many houses had Lithborn soldiers hanging from their eaves, lifeless and rotting, slain in the great anger that followed their defeat. Still forwards rode the Knights, with the peasantry flocking to gawk at their advance. Suddenly, as the streets began to open up into a large market square, lines of pikemen screened the path through the crowds, who bustled and bristled to gain sight of the Prince August and his retinue. Finally, the procession reached their destination. August, sallow faced and unattractive August, dismounted his steed to slowly ascend the steps to a large platform. He cast his steely eyes across the assembled common folk, there not for love but curiosity, and he began to speak, his voice ringing loud and clear over the quiet crowd. “My friends, until but days ago, you were ruled by heathen monstrosities conjured from the deepest depths of Hell. Creatures who robbed you and yours of your freedom, your honour and your faith. Through blood and strength of arms have the men and soldiery of Volarucio sought to right these wrongs done unto your people by the Greenskins, and with such strength of arms shall they continue to strive to defend you, Volarucio, and the Faith.” None could claim this Prince to be a great orator, but his voice was clear, clinical and factual, and some slight emotion leached through into his speech. “It is my intention to not only defend the Faith, but to resurrect it to the fullest extent seen in nearly seven hundred years. It is my intention, good folk, to rebuild the ancient and holy Kingdom of Auldhau, to once again be ruled from this holy city.” Across the crowd, gasps of surprise caught in the throats of the commoners. “Let it be known, my brothers and sisters in God, that this is not just a war for the survival of Volarucio, but for the survival of the Faith itself. The war with the Lithborn is a Holy War – a great Crusade for God – and it is the duty of every believer, including you citizens of Auld, to prosecute it.” -2500 T3 Volarucian Pikemen are raised from the regions surrounding Toulagoza. The men are drilled and equipped, before marching forth to join the ever continuing war against the Lithborn. (29'500) -An emissary is dispatched early in the year, making his way to the Tribal Herzaka, to parley with their leadership. (Mod) -August de Hontiveros, Prince of Toulagoza, enters the ancient city of Auld, and declares the rebirth of the Kingdom of Auldhau. He declares the Greenskin War to be a war not only for the survival of Volarucio, but for the survival of the entirety of the Faith and, blessed by his clergy and the Volaruci Cardinal, declares it to be a great Crusade against the heathen Greenskins, who fight to wipe out the last vestiges of the Magic Faith in the region. Furthermore, he calls upon each and every true believer – from Ischyros, to Volarucio, to Elea and from Auld itself, to volunteer for service to protect the Faith. (Mod)  -A Magi, Ferdinand of Tanovaz, investigates the PoI beside the city of Auld. (Mod) https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1AMJsCTv_nPaKA1QS2CXnXjT6EQ2rPHM2WwmUS-GmsBk/edit#gid=189576162
  11. Couldn't have said it better myself, Hary, ol' boy.
  12. THE PRINCEDOMS OF VOLARUCIO The Prince of Toulagoza, August III. Long red hair pooled across the soft silk pillow, as the owner lounged easily on the expensive couch, nestled by the open windows of her chambers in the old Senatorial Complexes of Tzaria. Isabella de Hontiveros only half listened as her brother, the honourable clergyman, droned on and on about what a political disaster losing this opportunity was. Gently her white teeth found the flesh of a sweet red apple, biting into it with a relish, the skin and meat of the apple snapping loudly as the juice ran down her chin. She spoke with her mouth full, crunching apple in her teeth. “Come now, Ferdinand, there are excellent opportunities for marriage still at hand.” Ferdinand barely noticed her as he continued his mad ravings. “And what will Father say of this failure? Edios alone knew what he intended to do through marriage to our religious enemies, but he must have had some plan!” The priest near shouted, frightening the birds on the window ledge. Isabella simply laughed, the rich, musical sound filling the room. “My dear, sweet, handsome brother.” she says, with only the barest hint of mockery. “I already have a more favorable solution, that will oil the wheels of Father’s plots, and won’t see me thrown into the hands of a crusty old man.” Sallow faced Ferdinand sniffed, already the likeness of his father in August’s youth, the Priest unfortunately had few of his Father’s talents, and he was confused and angry – because he did not understand. “Well? What is it then?” he snapped, irate. “Why, brother dear.” she rises and glides across the floor, planting a sisterly kiss on his cheek. “We shall seek an audience with Lord Dunwick.” Ferdinand gawked at her, and Isabella simply smiled. “Now leave me, I must pack and change for traveling.” - The day was cold and damp, as the steady rain rattled against the glass windows of Prince August’s summer retreat, simply a small fortified manner to the north of Toulagoza. Prince August and his court, however, were many miles away, in the west, and the occupant of this manor was not an ugly old monarch, but rather a young man, middling in his looks. He sat at the window, and his fingers danced along the neck of a violin. He was, even to the untrained eye, a master musician. And he looked like one, with his thin delicate face, and his thin delicate features. Gently he swept a lock of dark hair back,as his eyes drifted to the bed, and the sleeper began to stir. “Come back to bed, Phillip...” called the lazy voice of August de Hontiveros’ ward, Luis de Vivar, the only son of the late General de Vivar. But Phillip de Hontiveros, softest and kindest of August’s bastards, just sat at the window, gently playing his instrument. For a long time he played and, after a while, Luis sat up in the bed and began to play the Lute, and the two lovers enjoyed their companionable time together. Until Charles arrived. The door, made of stout wood but possessed of an old, weak latch, burst inwards as Charles de Hontiveros, eldest son of the Prince August, stormed into the room. Big, and brutish, Charles sneered down at the pair of homosexuals, snatching the violin easily out of delicate Philip’s hands. “You call yourself a man!” he sneered in derision, and with a swift movement, he smashed the instrument against the wall, shattering it into strings and splinters. “When I rule Toulagoza, Philip, I shall soon put an end to this! The old way was to geld sodomites, and perhaps it shall be revived!” thundered the beast as he threw the now pale Philip backwards with a casual backhanded slap. Charles turned, swiftly leaving the way the came, while Philip descended into heavy bouts of tears. -A Hermitage is built in Toulagoza. (37’000 Gold) (13’000 invested waaaaaay back.) (50k/50k) -The Princess Isabella de Hontiveros and her bastard brother, Ferdinand de Hontiveros, travel to seek audience in the court of Lord Serros Dunwick. (Mod) -An emissary is sent to Trident, requesting an armistice and a negotiation, with the Galaharan aide-de-camp sent to Volarucio as a witness. (Mod) -Envoys are also dispatched to the Chapel of Knauledge. (Mod) -Trouble begins to brew at home, for August has no designated heir, and his eldest son, Charles, begins to muster to his side the support of many young noblemen, most of whom ruthlessly persecute his younger brother, Philip, for his homosexual tastes. Meanwhile, the Princess Isabella, and the youngest brother, Ferdinand, travel to the lands of Symon, seeking a husband strong enough to secure joint rule with her over Volarucio – should August fall in battle or to sickness. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1AMJsCTv_nPaKA1QS2CXnXjT6EQ2rPHM2WwmUS-GmsBk/edit#gid=189576162
  13. UNION OF SOVIET SOCIALIST PLANETARY REPUBLICS GOVERNMENT Rulership: One – 3 Diplomatic Partners, 1 M per Billion, 1k C per Billion (First Contact) Attitude: Balance – 1k C per Billion Rights: None – 1 M/S/A in Industry Faith: Atheist Society – 1 R on every RF sector per research treaty (First Contact) Economy: Planned – 1 M/S/A in Industry, -1k C per industry Foreign Politics: Isolated – No Immigration, +0.25% population growth (First Contact) Mentality: Balance – 1 L per Billion -Research into Itoron extraction. (11R) (29R Invested) -Construction of 3 RF (45k)
  14. THE PRINCEDOMS OF VOLARUCIO De Palma’s Brigade prayers before their advance through the mist... “Advance!” cried both Vivar and Candeliara, both trusted retainers and now generals of their Prince, Agostín III de Hontiveros, but the mist swallowed their voices long before it reached the ears of aforementioned Prince, as he sat in the fog, with his favourite, the Viscount de Palma. August sat easily, but silently in the deep seat of his saddle, the usual polished breastplate and sash replaced now by full plate, though with the usual feathered hat. “It will be difficult to judge the advance.” he said, almost conversationally, in an attempt to mask that deep rooted, slimy sliver of doubt, of uncertainty, of nervousness, that assailed every general as they watched their men go into battle. If de Palma noticed the edge to his voice, and the slight shifts in his seat, he gave no comment, instead sitting on his own mount stoically, as was his fashion. Mist hides much, obscures both sound and vision, and de Palma found he had to strain his ears to hear the breathing of the thousands of his own men, never mind the tramping step and hammering drums of the advance brigades as they grew ever further away. August looked up to the sky for a moment, before looking to de Palma and giving a single, curt, nod. “It is time, Diego. Advance! Advance and smash open their flank! May God go with you in all of his glory!” The near piety of such a statement took even stoic de Palma by surprise, though it didn’t show on his hard, stony face. He bowed, withdrawing without reply. The General cantered away from the Prince of Toulagoza and down the long line of his column, most of whom sat or crouched on the hard ground, pikes standing in bundles 15 feet high. Suddenly, feeling the spur of some unknown force or feeling, he spurred his horse into gallop, flying down the column’s side. His hat came into his hand, and he windmilled it in a shocking display of enthusiasm. “Up! Up!” cried de Palma. “Up lads! Up to battle!” Men clambered to their feet as de Palma hauled his horse to a stop roughly half way down the line. His voice cried strongly out over his men, who turned their eyes to their General as they stood in their disciplined ranks. de Palma stood high in his stirrups, holding himself up by the pommel of his saddle. “Out there are thousands of Tridentine soldiers – before we can march against the Greenskins, we must run these bastards from the field!” de Palma jammed his hat back on his head, and held up a hand, pointing to the sky. “God is with us, boys! God is with us! We’re going to charge them – we’re going to drive them to Danwent, every step of the way!” cheers now, as de Palma’s horse began to shift with impatience. “The crossbowmen will do their work – and you must do yours! When you advance, show no sign of stopping! When you advance, do so with purpose, advance to roll over their whole line and you will have won before you even meet in battles! And when you charge – yell like Furies!” The General’s sword leaped into his hand. “Brigade de Palma – ad-va-nce! At the double-quick!” Up and down the line sergeants and officers thundered these trumpeted orders as the Column began its attack out of that thick mist. The rumble of thousands of armoured men rang out loudly now that de Palma cantered his horse alongside the Column. The Column rolled on towards the Tridentines, hurling magic and bolts before them. And as they rolled out of the mist in their fast trot, pikes leveled forwards or held at half position above the first ranks’ heads, as the line of men opposite them suddenly shifted from milky white mist to black figures, the men of Volarucio began to howl and cheer and scream as they descended on the Tridentine left. And smashed it open. -Tall Stone walls (T3) in Toulagoza and Low Stone walls (T2) in Grandiz. (22500 one time mod gift.) -Reinforcements are raised for the Brigades assembled in the south. (2500 T3 Volarucian Pikemen – 5 Units – 27’500) -A church is built in Toulagoza. (25’000) https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1AMJsCTv_nPaKA1QS2CXnXjT6EQ2rPHM2WwmUS-GmsBk/edit#gid=189576162 
  15. UNION OF SOVIET SOCIALIST PLANETARY REPUBLICS GOVERNMENT Rulership: One – 3 Diplomatic Partners, 1 M per Billion, 1k C per Billion (First Contact) Attitude: Balance – 1k C per Billion Rights: None – 1 M/S/A in Industry Faith: Atheist Society – 1 R on every RF sector per research treaty (First Contact) Economy: Planned – 1 M/S/A in Industry, -1k C per industry Foreign Politics: Isolated – No Immigration, +0.25% population growth (First Contact) Mentality: Balance – 1 L per Billion -Research into Itoron extraction. (8R) -Construction of 1 CI (10k) -Construction of 3 RF (45k)
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