Survival

tatiania
kalazandri's new church

Anamachara looked over the small crowed assembled, glad that Nigel had helped by privately convincing all of these people of the great honor of being devote titan worshippers in Kaladandri’s new church of Titania giving the most loyal of worshipers the opportunity to praise Kalazandri through his son the titan Prometheus. However he thought direction from the avatar was needed to strengthen the importance of the new branch of the church.
“I have gathered you all here because you will be the first and most devote worshipers to the titan Prometheus. Your job will be to oversee both the church and titan you have the unique opportunity to worship a god in person. Your faith will be rewarded daily.” She could no longer read the ink on her palm so decided to get down to business.
“Alicia you’re in charge, between you there are 3 clerics and oracle and 4 bards you will trade off and take turns ensure that Prometheus always has someone providing entertainment and being available to see to his needs. When you are not on duty with him directly you will be finding worshipers and sacrifices. At least once a week you will all come together to provide a special service for Prometheus and his worshipers with extra special entertainment utilizing all of you resources. Remember he will not be sitting here board all the time so some of you will be assigned to accompany him to battle while the rest stay here to build a base for worship and keep him home. We can’t start building his home until we find out his needs, but that will also fall under you. You are to contact first Varrick then Nigel and finally an avatar if things ever look like they may get beyond your ability to handle. All ranking members of kaladandri’s church will be expected to make regular forays to Prometheus to pay their respects. Any questions?”
The assembled nodded and whispered excitedly amounts themselves. “Ok see Alicia for your assignments and please when Aleau gets back please take the time to read through the titan book.”

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It's a Girls

Date the 7th of Wealson (First Day)

Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

Selwyn was having a rough go, in her mind she knew her body was racing through pregnancy by compacting an entire month into a day was a bit much; she couldn’t work, she could barely think. Her hormones spiked and surged with every passing moment. One minute she was happy and jovial and excited about what was to come, the next she was angry and pissed off and screaming. Raven had long ago made her tea and provided food, then retreated to his forge. In her more normal moments she didn’t blame him. How could she get through an entire day like this, how could she get through a week?


Date the 7th of Wealson (Second Day)

Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

Her clothes were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight, she had shed her breast plate, and was now wearing some looser garments, Nigel had noted this on his afternoon visit and had promised to seek out some larger clothes for her on his return. The baby bump was hardly noticeable, but the swelling breasts were the larger problem, and she had noticed both Nigel and Raven stealing glances, her energy was back thankfully, she had managed to achieve more than she had thought possible in the day, slamming through reports and even wandering the halls of Winter Haven. She regretted the keeps narrow hallways, lacking a leg it made it very difficult to get around which frustrated her all the more.


Date 8th of Wealson (First Day)

Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

This day was painful with hard cramps attacking her every hour or so. Raven had examined her on the onset, but had stated this fell within the realm of Normal for Dwarven pregnancies, they were often considered painful and long. Nigel had come, with several potions that he and Avatar Hansel had tried, long whispered conversations with Raven caused Nigel to only offer two of the five potions brought. Selwyn tried the first; it was a thick syrupy grey potion that tasted a lot like basil and thyme. She chocked it down. And was amazed at the sudden bursts of energy she felt, and then the extreme nausea. Raven and Nigel did the best to help her as she emptied her stomach onto the floor, and broke into painful hot and cold sweats, it took the greater part of an hour for her to normalise. Nigel had taken detailed notes, and not offered the second potion, her said he had to further consult with Hansel but would return in the morrow.


Date 8th of Wealson (Second Day)

Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

Selwyn sank her teeth into the fruit and smiled her thanks, Winter Haven had been stocked with some supplies and she was tearing through them. Raven had strongly encouraged her to take off her ring of sustenance, saying he was unsure how those magics may affect the baby. And now she was starving, she couldn’t get enough food, and the combinations of food were getting odder and odder. She rubbed her eyes, it had been a painful restless sleep last night, sleeping on her back was no longer an option, and she was not used to trying to sleep on her side, couple that with the unfamiliar clothes she now wore (she had to remember to thank Nigel, she have nothing that fits without the clothes he brought) and she lacked any sense of self. She worried constantly, and was unsure if this was pregnancy related or not. What would she do about Tukin? What about this disease she had? Was Yolo Safe? What if the Army couldn’t get to him in time? How were the Honalians doing? What about the trench and river productions? Was the baby ok? So many of these thoughts raced over and over in her mind, she would try to distract herself, or speak logically to herself about them, but it rarly worked, and she often found herself sitting alone, eating and worrying.


Date 9th of Wealson (First Day)

Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

The Cramps were getting worse, and few of Ravens remedies were providing much relief, his recipe for this “belly butter” however was excellent she hadn’t developed any stretch marks since beginning. Nigel had come back with another three potions. After another long and very formal examination he offered her two. This time the potion magnified her cramps by 300 fold. She screamed unashamedly feeling the worse pain she had ever come in contact with in her life. Raven and Nigel had had to work together to hold her down. The Cleric had pumped healing magic into her attempting to ease the pain, it did little. It took three hours for the pain to come down to normal levels again. Another exam from Nigel showed that the potion had offered good progress against the disease and had pushed it back, but not eliminated it. He estimated it would take three of four more doses in a row to win the battle. Raven had he fell into a heated argument about the safety of the mother, of the baby and Argyle. He decided he would return with the potions to grant the option to Selwyn, but would not push it from there. She was exhausted by his finish and opted to leave the 2nd potion for the time being.

Date 9th of Wealson (2nd Day)
Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

Selwyn was exhausted, her energy was fleeting and often now Raven had to come and make her eat. The food her prepared was excellent yet she found her appetite flagging. This seemed to concern the fey and he had taken to documenting things in Nigels notebook. He offered her the 2nd potion, but she was just too tired to consider taking it, too tired to think, too tired to do much of anything. Reports were coming in and it took much of her energy to focus to try and read them and craft a response before falling asleep once more


Date 10th of Wealson (1st Day)

Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

Tears and worries that was what the day brought. She had cried inconsolably for an hour that her favorite boots would not fit her. Now she couldn’t understand why. Nigel returned with three potions plus five doses of the last one. He and Raven spoke and length before they turned offering them to Selwyn. Nigel explained that the potions her brought were pain killers and should ease her through the taking of the other ones and lower the strain on her body, but there would still be significant risk to herself and her baby, what would she like done?

Selwyn walked the middle ground, opting for a single potion each day, to lower the risk to her child. She steadied her will drinking back the potion and preparing for the hours of pain to follow. The pain killers brought her back from the edge of insanity, but did little else.

Date 10th of Wealson (2nd Day)
Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

Selwyn was tired, she couldn’t think, didn’t want to do anything, and she just wanted Yolo to be here. Raven did his best to console her, but it was to little avail. It was with the smooth removed attachment of the fey that Raven poured the potion down her throat once more, she was too tired to stop him. The hours of pain tormented her once more as she went through a cycle of screaming and cursing everyone who did this to her. The day could not end quickly enough.


Date 11th of Wealson (1st Day)

Location: Winter Haven, Central Keep, Selwyns sweet.

Selwyn was more lucid today; she sat staring at the vile of gray liquid debating whether she would need it today. Raven had stated the child could come anytime now, and Nigel was said to be on his way. by the noon hour the three sat staring at each other, the vile on the table between them, that it when it happened.

A swirling gate opened before them with colours of blue gold and silver. She smiled at her companions as with years of experience they both stepped forward to protect her. The cleric drawing his tiny mace a prayer on his lips, and the assassin pulling a stone from his belt and taking a crouched stance. their worry was for not, Selwyn recognised the gate as he had seen it many times, and was relieved to see her mother step through.

“Selwyn” Azazial said as she nodded and smiled at Raven entering the room. She crouched beside Selwyns bed and placed a comforting hand on her head. “Time is not our friend my daughter, we must go?”

“Go?” Nigel spoke up “She should not be moved, she is very seriously injured and ill…” Azazial turned to the little cleric; her voice was not unkind but was firm

“The child must be born on Argyle, not a demi plane, we have to go and soon”. Nigel looked to Raven, he was clearly concerned and did not want to defy an angel, mother or spokesmen for a deity but his orders from the Avatars were clear, and if anything went wrong during the birth, he could not guarantee getting Selwyn off the plane before the baby was born.

“Azazil…” Nigel started, but he got no further

“You are a devote and goodly man Nigel, and I in no way wish the harm you, but I am working on divine orders…” the small cleric interrupted right back, he had been in enough conferences with Anamachara that he was not cowed by strong words

“As am I Azazial, as am I” it was Raven who put an end to it, placing a hand on his should

“Nigel, this is happening, if you cooperate you can be present and a part of it, if you push it they will hide away and you will not be there should the time come, be reasonable…” the cleric considered the feys words, seeing he was outnumbered. Selwyn sweetened the deal,

“The lead room in Rehume, take me there, it should be safe” Nigel nodded and Azazial spread her hands casting an improved gating spell. Moments later they found themselves in a marble room, a bed had been set up as with several medical supplies. This was not Rehume, without windows they knew not where they were, save that the tapestries and alter configuration bespoke of a holy ground to Gabrielle.


Date 11th of Wealson 11:03pm

Location: Holy Church of Gabrielle, Heart of Argyle

Selwyn screamed in pain once, more, Raven let out a soothing note that harmonized with her feral cry and sent a calm across the room. She had been in labour for hours; Nigel had long ago given up his protests and focussed on the matter at hand of getting the baby safely delivered. Azazial had taken the role of assistant aiding Nigel in whatever he needed as Raven offered the comfort and support to Selwyn assuring the mothers needs and comforts were taken into account. Selwyn saw the lines between planes blur as Angel after Angel lined the rafters of the church watching the birth of this momentous child. That brought her comfort in this time, though her heart was still heavy that Yolo could not be here.

She let out once last cry as Nigel called for her to push and then sweet relief. As a small babe was born.

She flopped back in her bed exhausted as Nigel checked the babe had no sign of disease and quickly wrapped it offering it Azazial to bring to its mother. Her relief was short lived however as she began to feel pressure and the need to push once more, she looked up concerned as Azazial held the child for her. Raven placed a calming hand on her

“It is merely the after birth, do not worry” he said as he began to encourage and coach her once more, it took little time, though her need to push became more insistent. It wasn’t until Nigel called

“I can see a head” that it caused everyone to stir. At 11:43pm on the 11th of Wealsun, a second baby girl was born.

Selwyn was given both the babies as she flopped back exhausted. The last clear memory she had was her mother pushing the conch against her lips and ordering her to drink

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Politics wait for No one
10th of Wealson

Sir Tristan kept his composure, though worry for the angel before him was chief in his mind.

Through the pool before him, he watched as Selwyn wiped away tears and calmed herself quickly as he spoke, though it was clear this calm was hard won. Beside her bed lay a single discarded boot that looked at though it had been stretched to it’s utmost limits.

When Sir Tristan had finished telling her of the upcoming conclave and the issues among the Knighthood, Selwyn turned and began writing a letter.

“Sir Tristan, it is not possible for me to leave this place until the birth of my daughter in 2 days time. I would ask that you read this letter at the conclave in my absence. Please do not allow any decisions to be made about the future of Tukin fate of Sir Keetan in my absence. Nigel will deliver this letter to you when he leaves here today.”

With that the pool cleared and the image of the Angel dissipated. Eir let him know that she could establish this link again if needed.

The letter read as follows:

To the Brave and Noble Knights of Tukin,

I wish to set a few things straight, in the hopes that we can move forward together to protect and serve the people of Tukin, as we all have sworn to do.

First, with trust that I know is not misplaced among the Knights of Tukin, the I would like to tell you all some details about myself that not many people know.
I am the 1st Acalade of Gabriel and his voice on this plane. However, it was Daime who made me what I am today. I was born of the angel Azaziel, but was the result of a brutal attack by an Incubus upon her. I walked the paths of courage, virtue, and kindness, despite the mistrust and fears of those around me. I travelled to the Corus of years past as a Nephilim. I visited the first shrine to Daime in a time when he was unknown to Argyle, and told him of the plight in our present. Daime formed me into a full angel, then granted me great knowledge and power so that I could help the people of Argyle in his absence.

It is a popular opinion born out of bitterness that Daime has abandoned us all. The truth is that Daime left to fight the battle against our invaders on a higher plane, where he could do the most damage. But in doing so, he sacrificed his connection to Argyle. In his place, Gabriel now offers protection and aid to those who will but follow him. When Garbiel learned of the imminent attack, he tasked me with saving the city of Tukin, as well as many battalions of Dactylians. I spoke with Sir Garren about the impending danger, and the crucial instructions that King Lamaeth must be declared dead, and that the city of Tukin would now fall under Gabriel’s preview, that if this was done Gabriel would be able to protect all of those within the Gardens. I left Sir Garren and Sir Keetan with this understanding and told them both that I trusted them do what was right to save the people of Tukin. As soon as the Dactylians were safe, I returned to Tukin, and was dismayed to learn what had occurred in my absence. Although the city and most of it’s people were saved, the loss of Sir Garren is most regretful. It is my intention to do all I can to bring him back, as I am certain that his reasons for refusing to declare King Lamaeth dead come from his staunchly held beliefs in the Book of Silver and the oath he swore as a knight of Tukin and these are things that I can respect.

I understand that the Book of Silver requires you to wait 500 years before naming a new King. That is also something I respect. In that time, or until the time of King Lamaeth’s return I will serve the Holy City of Tukin as exactly what I am, the 1st Acalade of Gabriel. I have sworn to protect this city, and shall always do so, my word is not broken by time or politics. I have appointed Sir Tristan to serve as my hand because I know that King Lamaeth himself was grooming Sir Tristan to be the next hand and King Lamaeth’s wisdom was one of his many great qualities.

Sir Tristan tells me that Malvir Bellator made some changes to the church of Daime that caused organized religion to be cast out of Tukin. At that time you were right to do so. Bellator corrupted the church and did not speak the truth of Daime, this was a calculated attack that weakened the church and paved the way for the invasion of the devils, demons, and abberants. Our worship will strengthen Tukin’s defence against the evil that threatens to overtake Argyle. No one will ever be forced to worship, however this is now a Holy City to Gabriel and his churches will be opened. His worshippers will not be prevented from gathering and worshipping him. No one will be persecuted for worshipping their chosen religion. I look forward to speaking with all of you about these issues soon.

I am currently incapacitated, and will be until the birth of my daughter, the first celestial of Gabriel who will be born on this plane. On the 12th of Wealson I will return to Tukin, at that time I would request a meeting with all of you. There is still the matter of Sir Keetan to discuss, and as I have yet to undertake the quest and read the book of silver I request your aid in deciding his fate.

Respectfully,

Selwyn Sudari

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Happenings Pt 5

Date: 8th of Wealson, 3:15pm

Location: Militia Training Ground, City West, Tukin

The civilians lined neatly in a row, pikes at the ready. Ambrose surveyed the line for a moment to assure there were no mistakes then, satisfied with the formation, he nodded to the sergeant to call the next position.

“BRACE” the young man hollered, and in a rabbley wave, the line moved into a brace. Ambrose shook his head, less at the sergeant; the militia had only been training for a few days it would be unreasonable to expect perfection. No, his gaze had surveyed the far end of the training field where he saw Sirs Tristen and Kerrigan marching towards him. He was quite sure that whatever their business he would not like it.

“Continue the positions, alternating from Brace, to Offensive, to Ease… I will return shortly” he said to the sergeant, and began walking to intercept the two younger knights, he met them a third of the way across the field, it did not take a politician to see that Sir Tristan was angry, and that both younger knights were tense. He fought the instinct to loosen his sword in its scabbard; these were his brothers after all. “Tristen, Kerrigen” he greeted, knights when alone with only knights were granted the privilege of informality, his words seemed to bother Tristen all the more; and immediately Ambrose knew what was going on, this visit was about power and authority.

“Sir Ambrose,” Tristen greeted in return, the younger knights eyes flickered to the militia, likely debating if he would have preamble about the troops before getting to actual business, Ambrose appreciated that the younger knight seemingly decided against such a tactic and cut straight to the matter at hand. “It has come to my attention that you may have treated with a Don-Tonian diplomat a couple days ago, is this true?” the tension and excitement in the younger man’s words were clear, he did not want to be here, and was nervous how this would end, he was also ready for a fight, verbal or otherwise.

“It is” Ambrose replied working to keep his tone neutral. There was a long pause from Tristan, waiting for more information, Normally a knight inquiring along these lines would be given a full explanation by his brother, though there was nothing saying they had to, but as the Hand, and inquiry of this nature demanded more than a two word answer.

“Why was I not informed when this occurred Sir Ambrose?” Tristen asked

“It happened on my watch, I handled it, and will report to all my brothers at the Conclave tomorrow” Ambrose replied, still not allowing emotion to creep into his voice. His tone was neutral, and unapologetic, if anything he seemed to be questioning Tristen as to why the sudden inquiry” “Why Tristen? Has something happened with Don-Ton that warrants my report sooner?”

“As the Hand, I must insist that I be informed and offered the opportunity to speak with any diplomats or heads of state should they visit our country requesting treat”. Ambrose stifled a sigh, he had really hoped it would not come to this, instincts caused him to quickly assess to two younger knights before him prior to offering a response. Finally he spoke

“I shall keep that in mind Tristen, should you be voted in as Hand” he said, the senior knight noted the tensing of both Tristen and Kerrigan. The next words offered came through gritted teeth

“I AM Hand, Sir Ambrose, Queen Selwyn declared me as such before she departed, I would ask that you respect my station as a sworn knight to this country” Now Ambrose tensed, they were getting dangerously close to calling his honour into question.

“The Dwarven Queen, can only make you the hand of the DWARVEN Kingdom, Tristen. In Tukin, in case it has escaped your memory, The King selects the Hand, Failing that the Hand selects his successor, failing that a Conclave votes and selects a Hand, as it is written as it always shall be” the words were spat like fire from a mages finger tips, each aimed as a vital strike. Tristen took a step forward, but not a hostile one, his hands opened pleaded

“Ambrose, The King is dead, and The Great God Gabrielle, by his love and grace has sent us a new monarch to protect us and lead us in our hour of need, the city has been claimed by the God, Selwyn is our Queen.” Tristen did his best to convince the knight coming as near pleading with him as his pride and station would allow. Ambrose would have none of it, but his tone matched Tristen’s, the tone of a man trying to convince a friend that his logic was flawed

“We swore an oath to King Lemeath, we swore we would wait, not matter the circumstance, no matter the conditions… we are to wait 500 years it has not barley been 500 hours and yet you scrambled to throw away all the King has stood for. Our honour as knights, and men of Tukin demand we hold true to the Book of Silver”

“Our Oath to protect our people and the innocent comes first, our Honour as Knights and men of Tukin demand we swear fealty to Queen Selwyn and shelter the innocent from this war. Tomorrow I will allow the Conclave to meet as I reaffirm Queens Selwyn’s command that I serve as her hand, I will expect an oath from you at that time”

“If you are voted in by a clear majority you shall have it, but if you interfere with the vote or stop it, I WILL uphold the book of Silver” Ambrose stated.

The two knights looked at into each other’s eyes each knowing the other would not falter from their prescribed course, and each hating where this inevitable road would lead; tomorrow would be an interested day.

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Happenings Pt 4

Date: 8th of Wealsun, High Noon
Location: Mage Tower, Crymeery Village

“Please Illieate; your word will have sway” Duke Francis pleaded again, this was not going well. Illeate rose from his simple wooden chair closing another book on the table before him, he turned and faced the Duke, glowering at the man in a method only he could maintain.

“I told the courts of Corus long ago, I am finished playing King Maker, I have no interest in the petty politics of the Honalians” the words came out in a calm baritone, but were intoned with emphasis as if a complicated subject were being explained to a dim child.

“Come now Illieate, this isn’t petty politics, this is the future of our people we are talking about this is more than a simple succession, this will set history of how our people will be led and grow in this new realm.” Duke Francis let that hang for a moment, but the powerful man before him seemed unswayed. “I am not asking you to make me King, but you are a named and bloodied knight, all I ask is that your house declares for me”

“That is the same thing” the sorcerer said. The Duke was growing frustrated, it had cost him time and magical resources to come to Crymeery and now it seemed like a waste

“Please, if not for me who will your house declare for? Our people need strong leadership” Illeate merely shook his head in disappointment; he walked towards the door and pulled his sword belt from the peg by the door. He fastened it and turned to the Duke with a final thought.

“The House of Illeate will not declare, we abstain, I want no part in politics, there are far more important things to be working on…” he paused seeing the disappointment in the Dukes eyes, and softened the blow slightly “I like you Duke Francis, for what it worth, I am silently rooting for you, but I cannot be there for this… come to me if our people are truly in danger from a genuine threat, and I will always be a blade you can call upon, but I will not waste time on this while people are tortured and dying” he turned and walked through the door… the Duke jogged to the doorway and called after him

“Where are you going?”

“To buy Cyrmeery farm land from a Don-Tonian Lawyer” he called back, leaving the Duke standing their confused.

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The O Files

Selwyn put aside the thick stacks of reports, she shifted trying to get comfortable, she had little luck. Raven had warned her that dwarven pregnancies were renowned for being long and painful, she was finding some truth to that, the child tended to kick hard, and she suffered from heartburn that was near incurable, Nigel had been able to offer a little relief in numbing the pain magically, this had given Raven some time to work on a few of his more obscure home remedies, he had had to ask his fey friends to go out and search for ingredients, but finally had found a combination that didn’t require her to suffer for six to eight hours waiting for Nigel to return with another magical does. She was growing cross-eyed reading troop dispositions, requests, iron stockage and transport logistics, she smiled remembering Dalathan’s saying “Wars are not won through stratagem or battles, they are won through superior logistics” she was starting to see the truth to it. She felt another painful kick and was tempted to call Raven for another dose of his secret remedy… she thought better of it, he was crafting items sorely needed for the war effort, every time she called him away that was another blade, not being put in the hands of soldiers who needed them… she could endure until he took a break… he had to rest eventually right?
She put the large heavy stacks aside and thought to distract herself with the O File. The O File, was something Yolo had started a while ago and had carried forward… the O stood for Odd… anything that was considered by a commander, odd but not a huge risk, was to be collected in a file and looked at by senior command when they could, often they were giggle worthy, but occasionally a caster or commander of experience would pick something out that would be otherwise overlooked. Selwyn hoped for a good conspiracy or something that would take her mind off things.


You’re Majesty

I write on behalf of the Toiling Humperdinks, Toiling Buttercups and Toiling Dreadpirates in the 38th Dact Hammers, we have been stationed outside of Chistles Point for a good long while. I have had 13 different dactyls come to me and tell me that, a or some, strange Dactyl woman (or women) have been visiting their bunks late at night. The women is always clad in white, though hair colour sometimes changes (dark brown to light brown to black). It is said that the women seduces the solider mounts him, brings him to the cusp, and then whispers “never again”. At this point the women always disappears or the solider awakens… apparently this solider is unable to …. Er… achieve … well they can’t… they can’t… let’s just say they cannot stand at attention anymore, if you catch my drift. Normally I would not write to you, but since the reports carry across 13 different men from three different companies, all stationed in the same area, but there is no direct link of companionship or knowledge between the men… is has not hurt our defensive capabilities in anyway, though if this is real (which at this time I am not willing to say it is one way or another) this could cause moral problems. My XO has suggested bringing in “entertainment” for the men… I reminded him that the Kings gold is not spent on hookers for the men. I will continue to document cases if they continue to arise and have placed them in the O Files.

Regards
Commander Tilk Effron.
Battalion Commander, 38th Dact Hammers
Dwarven Imperials


You’re Majesty

I am writing from Camp 103-13, eighteen miles south south east of Tukin, also referred to as Camp Rocky Ridge. The 27th Dact Axes were sent out here with a large civilian work force to explore sheltered valleys that may prove to have farming, or mining capacity. Anyway the reason this is in the O Files is that five women have recently given birth, all on the same day. The birth were of course expected and although it is odd for them to be on the same day, that in and of itself is not why I write. Each women gave birth to a single Dactyl girl. That is five baby girls on the same day at the same time (at least as far as I can collaborate) but this is where things get really odd, the babies are identical your grace. I know what you are thinking, that all children look the same as babes, but this is uncanny, they all have pale skin and red hair, they each have eyes of green. All of them have the same birthmark on their left thigh… gave me the shivers seeing such a thing. Some of the men feel this is a curse… others claim it is a good omen. We were hoping the Queen may be able to come and shed some light as to these happenings and what if anything should be done about it.

Commander Lien Upcheck
27th Dact Axes, Dwarven Imperials


You’re Majesty,

I write from the Chistles Point, with the 3rd Dact Logistics Battalion. 28 days ago the Waxin Puds, part of the 2nd Dact Pikemen came across a crater and burnt our field as part of a standard escort mission of civilians between Pelegious and Chistles Point. At the center a hunk or rock was found, about 1 foot in diameter. This rock was logged and turned in at the end of their mission. We have discovered that the rock is actually metallic in nature, but that is as far as we have got. All attempts to identify the type of metal have failed; we have brought it to all of our Master Smiths and Master Miners and so far have come up with nothing. We have also shown a sample to both the Wizards of Thay, and Senior Priests of the Stone, again through memory and magical means they have not found a way to identify it. One such Master Smith, a dwarf known as Retta Armorpriest, would like to attempt to forge it into a weapon, she says she “has a feeling she can do it”, and requests the right of “Smiths Solemn Craft”. I do not know what this is, and am unsure if I can or should give this metal out to be used… please advise.

Commader Lin Cairncut
3rd Dact Logistics
Dwarven Imperials


Selwyn ran her hand through her hair, these would take considerations

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Airy Water

Date: 7th of Wealson, 11:57pm

Location: Northern Ice Flows of Argyle, 22 miles North North West of Silver Pike Inlet

Aleau stretched luxuriously in her bed as she opened her eyes. She felt the gentle bob of Claw rising slowly and falling with the tidal flow. ‘Odd’ she thought, ‘the Claw should not have moored for another few hours’ she rose from her bed cautiously, her flowing nightgown magically shifting into her Captains tunic, boots and hat. As she floated across the room her hands deftly buckled her twin short swords. She stepped out of her quarters and looked onto the deck; it was quiet, too quiet. She climbed the stairs onto the bridge and dropped into a crouch, there was a form huddled over the wheel, but Aleau could tell he was propped there, this was a trap. Her eyes scanned the shadows around the deck looking for the assailant; her crew should have at least six members on deck at all times, none were visible.

She could see no one. ‘Well’ she thought, ‘step one, find the trap. Step two, spring the trap’. She stepped to the center of the bridge and spun slowly casting her eyes around. Then she felt it, the steel garrotte around her throat, her eyes rolled in mild annoyance as she exhaled slightly blowing the stray bangs from her eyes. The garrote tightened, the air around her shimmered as she became translucent and morphic, within seconds she became water her head shifting to where hand had been and her foot appearing where her neck once was. She looked at her assailant glaring at the bald worshiper of Hrusha.

“Really? You think to kill the Avatar of Water with a steel cord?” her hand rushed out becoming insubstantial and jammed into the assailants mouth, quickly water began to jet from her and into the assassin, he sputtered and tried to move away, she held him… he coughed, he choked, water began to erupt from his nose, ears and eyes, he died.

She let the body drop to the deck and quickly appraised her ship; eight of her crew were dead, including the ever faithful Mr. Arrow. She growled a feral growl.

“You were warned Hrusha, you want a war… now you have it… None of mine will suffer any of yours to live… so mote it be”

She roused her remaining crew and quickly got the ship underway once more… the bodies of her crew were wrapped and blessed placed below decks until such a time that they could be properly laid to rest. The body of the Air Worshiper was cut to pieces and fed to the fish before they departed. Kelezandri’s Claw was once more underway, sailing towards the capital as quickly as it could.


Raven stood above his crafting bench wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. A mild pain on his chest caused him to start. He looked down at his necklace of many holy symbols, the one to Kelezandri was rapidly changing from hot to cold, cold to hot, hot to cold… but it was not directed at him. Seconds later the metal loop that held another Holy Symbol in place weakened causing the emblem to fall to the floor. The moment the symbol left the chain the emblem to Kelezandri calmed and stopped its glow.

‘huh’ he said, picking up the fallen emblem, then shaking his head, knowing this was a poor omen “Hrusha, one might of guessed” twice he tried to place the fallen object on the chain, twice more it acted it causing the other symbol to be cast down. Raven placed both the symbol to Hrusha and Kelezandri on his crafting bench and scratched his head… this would bare more investigation.

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What Would Brian Boitano Do... Final

The Fighting Banana Slugs looked on at hideous aberrant… it wasn’t part of an army or something, likely just a creature that had been wandering to close to their camp, still it was big and powerful and none were keen to engage it. The time of hero’s had come to an end, the greats were dropping like fly’s and the man power in the army was falling even faster. The Captain looked down the line shaking his head, wondering if he ordered the Slugs to attack would they even heed his command, that’s when the first voice started up, a Bard who had tacked onto their unit that day by happenstance

Please Listen While Reading

“What would Brian Boitano do
If he was here right now?
He’d make a plan and he’d follow through
That’s what Brian Boitano do”

The words sang across the line, the men looked back and forth as the bard moved in front of the line, singing to them and trying to plead his case through song

“When When Brian Boitano was in the Sheilds
Fightin for our Gold
He slew two daemons and a devil
While wearing a blindfold”

“When Brian Boitano was in the woods
Fighting grizzly bears
He used his magical fire breath
And saved the maiden’s fair”
“So what would Brian Boitano do
If were here today?
I’m sure he’d kick an ass or two
That’s what Brian Boitano do”
The men began nodding to one another as the harmony wove into their very being, they were the Fightin Banana Slugs, they were where Boitano came from, if they forged a hero such as him, why not another?

“…And when Brian Boitano built
The Walls, he beat up Kubla Kahn
‘Cause Brian Boitano doesn’t
Take shit from anybody…”

The bard continued knowing the men were in the throws of his song now

“So let’s get all the kids together
And unite to stop this thing
And we’ll save Dwarven Stronghold too
‘Cause that’s what Brian Boitano do
And we’ll save the Dwarven Stronghold too
‘Cause that’s what Brian Boitano do
‘Cause that’s what Brian Boitano do!”

The captain didn’t wait

“CHARGE!” not a man waivered as once more the Fightin’ Banana Slugs roared into combat, heaven help those who’d wronged them

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Chronacles of Honey Pt 3

Dear Annabel, my sweet sweet rose,

After three weeks in the Gardens I and five other recruits were found ‘worthy’ enough to move along to the beginning stages of Bee tending, it is a great honour, and relief to finally be out of the gardens. Gus and Rudy never did learn what it was to be truly moved by a flower, and so have had to stay on with Mr. Jackson for remedial lessons.

Our first day learning of the new tools was fascinating, I am being taught to think here in ways I had never before considered. Once we had aligned on the Parade Grounds, Master chief introduced us to Ray Layota, I know… thee Ray Layota… we were very excited, and he was so deep; I have tried to etch his words into my memory.

“I want tenders with minds like diamond, I want tenders who know what’s best, I want tenders with pruners that cut and eyes that burn like cigarettes.”

“I want tenders with the right allocations, they are fast and thorough and sharp as a tack. They are playing with smokers, and cleaning the combs, they are touring the gardens and picking up slack” I want tenders with foresight and LONNNNNNNG…… Prospects” Master Honey Smith Layota paused before continuing

“I want tenders who get up early! I want tenders who stay up late! I want tenders with uninterrupted prosperity who uses their dirks to cut through red tape! With instincts that shine like justice, and voices that are dark like tinted glass. I want tenders with foresight and LONNNNNNNNGGGGG Prospects”

With that the Master Honey Smith left us, saying not a word more, the Master Chief stepped up and took over telling us today we would understand smokers.

“We use Smokers in order to spare bees not tenders. If a Bee stings you it dies… we don’t want our bees to die, so we don’t want them to sting.” As he spoke he led us to a small hut nearby, it was a metal hut with pipes that seemed to be funneled from a small forge.

“I need a volunteer” he had said, I had been a little slow raising my hand and a Human named Hutch had been selected… “Goodman Hutch, it is a special recruit who still volunteers in week four” the Master Chief had said… “Sergent, secure Hutch in the smoker hutt” Hutch had been taking and locked into the small hutt, all the while the Master Chief had walked over to the forge and taken handfuls of pine bows and thrown them onto the fire… plums of white smoke began to roll into the pipes leading to the hutt. “Sergent, start the time” the Master Chief had said before turning back to us

“Hutch is currently panicked, like Bee’s he is at his most dangerous right now, he is scared, he dosn’t know what is happening and his instincts are telling him to escape” this point was made all the more poignant by the thumbing and screaming coming from inside the hut. “once we smoke, we keep well back usually for about two minutes… this will give it time to take effect” then we stood in silence listening to Hutch scream, plead, threaten and bang until finally there was a half-hearted THUMP then nothing, at this point the door to the hut was cast open

“you will note that Hutch although not unconscious is suffering from oxygen deprivation, his mind is working slowly and he is confused” the Master Chief entered the hut stepping over Hutch and began fiddling with a few nic nacks placed inside the hut. “This is my prime working time, I have about a minute before he starts to come to his senses I must get in, do what I need to do and get out” as he explained this we saw Hutch slowly at first then more quickly begin to move, as we approached the end of our minute the Master Chief had agilely leapt out of the hut and slammed the door on Hutch again. “so we redoes him” more green was added to the fire “now remember, we do not want to kill Hutch… sure there are a low percentage of losses that will inevitably occur, but we want to keep him subdued, so you only get half the time this time as we did the first time. “Over the next few days, each of you will spend time in the hut and outside, experimenting on each other with how much time it takes to subdue, and what the limits a living creature can handle before dying. Puzzles will be placed inside the hut, you will be expected to subdue your ‘bee’ and finish the puzzle before the bee becomes conscious enough to sting you, this will teach you to work fast and efficiently, if you kill your ‘bee’ through smoke… I will be most displeased… get to work” and then he had pointed to two of us to start working on the puzzle in Hutches hut.

The way we are taught to learn is fascinating my tiger lily, I hope I will be able to send you letters soon and that you will be able to come up once I achieve the rank of Honey Smith… with all my love

Smiling Jack Whittmen

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Glory to the cooks

Roland sat down at eh large oak dinning table. The creak of wood joined the meddly of clinks,scrapes and banter that made up the familiar sounds of the mess hall. Before him sat a sour looking Daktilian. Not by mood per say, Roland would guess that this was more the result of a permanent facial disposition. The dactilian probably looked like a psychopath preparing to strangle kittens when he was happy with that face. Roland smiled ruefully at the thought of that look before somberly looking at his plate… Gruel again, nothing for it, it was healthy filling and absolutely fucking tasteless. If Death was all that came with defeat Roland might be tempted to throw himself onto a pike rather than eat another day of this nutritious torture device.

“Good funeral speeches they did a few days ago eh?” The dacktylian grunted out from across the table as his own serving of slop was plopped onto his plate in front of him. Roland broke from his hateful reverie to ponder that statement. They had been stirring and impassioned, each leader sharing their hope in their own way. But Roland had heard so many great speeches and flowery words over the past few months that they gave him little hope. The dead were still dead regardless of honor or reverence and pretty ideal would stop a demon blade rending ones entrails. One could only fight so hard and everyone here was fighting with all their might so the words though pretty would only serve to sooth your mind for a few moments when your soul was dragged to the torture wrack when you were killed

“ya, Good speeches they were” He replied not wanting to spread his own low moral. He raised his spoon to his lips pondering how to continue the dialog he found himself in. perhaps he would mention… All though died in his head. What was this? What was happening? Across from him sour daky was also frozen in shock. Conversation through out the mess hall was dying out rapidly. An eerie silence fell over the camp were thousands of soldiers voices had peppered the air not a second before. What was this…this flavor?! the sound of frantic eating filled the air as every soldier Roland included devoured their gruel. After finishing Roland quickly made his way to the kitchen along with dozens of others to inquire about why the food today had been so… Good!

As her rounded the corner he saw a young woman with Ashen blond hair humming happily as she sprinkled herbs from her bag into the barrels of endless gruel testing the flavor now and again with her spoon and nodding to herself. Upon the crowds aproach she stopped humming and looked up. with an expression very akin to a deer caught in a beecons beam.

“Oh my” she murmured “what a strong reaction. how long have you boys been eating this unseasoned?” Her question was answered only by a clamor of questions about what she had done, who she was and if she was staying. One particularly emotional soldier threw out a marriage proposal. The woman smiled awkwardly and began to take steps back towards the door to the storage room. which she quickly ducked inside slamming the door behind her. Roland being a caster of the fifth circle felt that it was necessary to get to the bottom of this. who was this girl? Was she a spy? An agent to entrance the troops? A new variety of TASTE succubus!? With a quick gesture he dimension doored into the store room. The girl who had been leaning against the closed door with releaf cast across her face gasped as Roland strode into the room.

“perhaps you could explain to me who you are and what you are doing here?”He said sternly. She took a moment to regain her composer before answering.

“yes, yes of coarse. My name is Anita Varvectch I have been sent by Raven Everlast to be a camp cook. I have passed all the tests to make sure i’m not a monster or a spy. Forgive my suspicious behavior out their. I am not used to crowds.” Not used to teleportation magic either Roland mused given how much he had startled her. But her explanation did ease his mind. Of coarse the A of A would not let just anybody into their kitchens without proper questioning. “might I ask your name my mysterious magician friend?” She added straitening up and trying to appear formal. Trying being the operative word. She was a good cook no doubt but was not that versed in social interaction given her clumsy mannerisms. His own aristocratic background made her slight slip ups all the more pronounced. Had she been raised in isolation?

“of coarse, My lady forgive my rudeness. My names is Roland, a mage of the A of A.” Had she called him a magician!?" “If I may inquire, how did you make that gruel taste so good?” Her emerald eyes lit up at the question.

“Its a simple matter of some gentle spicing. Even magical food can be livened up by the right blend of herbs. Bland is one of the most exciting flavor components because you can compliment it with anything. with the right supplys I could give that gruel a different flavor every night!” Rolands world rolled back into sunshine at that though. Had lady Selwyn sent a celestial being to cook for them?

“ah, well that’s good news” Understatement “I, uh, will wish you the best of luck and apologize for my earlier suspicion” Clumsy departure. He chided himself. All this playing soldier had left him rusty in etiquet. He turned and dimension doored back into the mess hall. His passion fpr living reawakened by the promis of a good meal at the end of the day. A simple pleasure to be sure but for some thats all they needed to keep the flame alive.

  • * * * * *

As the man vanished, Anita sighed happily Raven was right her craft could help these brave souls win the fight in its own small way. She was a little embarressed at how flutered she had been but she was sure the magician was forgiving of those things. he was in an army full of gruff dwaves after all.

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Chronicals of Honey Pt 2

“A Flower is to a Bee like a beautiful women is to a man, we here at the Honey Gardens are crafting these oh so fine beauties in order to seduce our insectoid friends into making the finest of honeys” The elderly drow walked through the rows of gorgeous flowers. Mr. Jackson had escaped from the under dark some 20 years ago and had been rescued by the druid Ray Liota himself. The older drow had taken to the beauty of flowers and the colours they provided and now grew them exclusively for Liota’s honey. “If you are not so thick and dulled from the drudgery or war, I will attempt to teach you what it means to aid a plant through its growth cycle. You will learn how to keep these fine fine ladies in the style of which they have grown accustomed.”

And so training began, over the next four days each of them would work tireless hours pruning, weeding, guarding against hostile insects, and coxing friendly ones to their assigned flowers. The days were long, fourteen hour days, and often you were expected to get up and check on your flowers on your own time as well. The recruits bonded well together, the people who had been working the gardens previous were nice enough, but often alluded to preferring the company of their flowers than that of other people. A select few spoke of their dreams of becoming Honey Smiths, and that they had been held back, but would someday get there. It was day five where things became odd. Rudy, a burly dwarven fellow, had been working with a specific strain of Tulips who were just now blossoming, it was the first time any of us had managed to get a flower to bloom at all, he called Mr. Jackson over to see it. the old drow took a quick look at the flowers and spoke

“As I said before Mr. Rudy, a Flower is the most attractive special thing that a bee can possibly conceive of, do you understand that?”

“Yes Mr. Jackson,”

“Why did you pick cream coloured Tulips?

“Well, I thought… uh… they would look nice?”

“NICE? NICE? Nice aint gonna get honey made, nice is what you settle with after your wild days, nice is what you bring home to show your momma you ain’t snuffing spice behind the south cliff. We don’t want nice we want Hot, we want sexy, we want red… red… RED. Cream is the colour of milk, RED IS THE COLOUR OF SEX, AND FEAR and danger and signs that say DO… NOT… ENTER! Everything that a man loves in life is RED, do you understand?” the dwarf scratched his head in confusion, he was unsure how they were talking about sex and danger when his flowers were cream,

“But Mr. Jackson, the cream, it makes me feel comfy, reminds me of home and all”

“COMFY! COMFY! Sex shouldn’t be comfy! I don’t know what kind of gardens you were growing back home Rudy Boy, but here, we are growing Sex! Row upon row of irresistible biological SEX! Does this flower make you Hard Rudy?”

“What?” Rudy cried in confusion trying to keep up with the drows words that were rampaging a mile a minute

“What ain’t no state of arousal I ever heard of? Do you ejaculate to what?”

“WHAT?” Rudy was beginning to panic, he was in trouble and he didn’t know why, nor was he sure what he was being asked… all he knew was that his cream coloured tulips were blooming and that somehow that wasn’t sexy

“Ejaculate mother fucker… do you do it?”

“WHAT?” he stuttered again, but this time a bitter smack hit him across the face as in an flash the drow held a long dirk to Rudy’s throat

“Say ‘What’ one more time… I dare ya! I double dog dare ya! Say what again… say it!” there was a silence in the gardens as the seven recruits watched what they were suddenly sure was to be the first causality of Honey Smith training. “Now… “Mr. Jackson continued “Does this flower make you hard Rudy?” as he spoke the words he slowly turned the dirk under his neck drawing a single bead of blood that dripped down, marring one of the cream coloured flowers forever red. Rudy’s heart was racing as he carefully formed his words not wanting to piss off his clearly unhinged teacher.

“I don’t know… maybe a little?” Rudy responded, hoping that would be sufficient, it was not

“Sargent!” Mr. Jackson called, the short shorts wearing sergeant came through the gardens at a jog, being careful not to step on any of the flowers”

“Yes Mr. Jackson”

“Please check and see if this flower is making Mr. Rudy here Hard”

“Yes Sir!” with that the sergeant groped Rudys crotch, rather thoroughly

“Not even a little bit Sir” he reported once finished

“Thank you sergeant you may go” Mr Jackson said, before turning back to Rudy “Not even a little bit… Rudy Rudy Rudy… if the Flower doesn’t make you hard… how can you expect it to make a BEE HARD?” he said the words as if they made perfect sense

“What?” Rudy said, not realising his mistake, the dirk reversed in Mr. Jackson grip like lightening and slammed into Rudy’s leg… the dwarf screamed out in pain as he bled over his tulips. Mr. Jackson dropped the dwarf at last and turned to the rest of his class

“I don’t want to see your flowers, until you reach a state where you are aroused by your flowers, if they are not good enough for you, they aren’t good enough for the Bee’s”


Dear Anabel

I need to get out of here, they are all crazy… I requested a transfer today but was reminded that transfers are not accepted after day one, the only way out is graduation or death. DO NOT COME HERE! I will see if I can sneak to town soon and maybe get these letters to you. Things are not what they seem

I love you so much

Jack Whittmen

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Chronicles of Honey Pt 1

The ten newest recruits stood in a neat line in front of the man who had only been referred to as Master Chief. The Master Chief was a Half Elf; he had a short well-trimmed mustache, stood around 5’7 but was well built and tanned, a man who spent most of his days outdoors. He had piecing brown eyes and wore little more than a khaki coloured vest and matching short shorts. His feet were clad in standard issue military boots. He paced up and down the line looking at these recruits. For most this was meant to be a resting assignment, Battle had been heavy on the front, and some of these men were having problems handling that, for others they had shown a genuine interest in honey and bees. No matter their reason for being here they all stood together, in a neat line at attention in the little camp known as the Honey Comb, four miles north north east of North Hutt. The Master Chief began to pace back and forth, occasionally pushing a man, or doing an overly through inspection to assure order and discipline were maintained.

“I never saw a wild thing feel sorry for itself…. I bee will fall frozen dead from its hive, without ever once feeling sorry for itself” his voice rang across the open field. One of the men, a large Dactyl known as Fritz cocked his head to the side furrowing his brows, confused at this strange opening, the Master Chief saw it and approached the Dacytl steeping uncomfortable close and speaking into his ear

“The ebb and flow of the great oceanic tides, the drift of the continents, the very position of the sun along is elliptic; these are just a few of the things I control in my world… is that clear?” Fritz was more confused now than ever, but stuttered

“Yes Master Chief”

“IS THAT CLEAR” the Master Chief shouted, not in rage but in a tone of steely command that would but King Yolo himself to shame, the ten assembled men snapped straighter to attention and yelled in unison

“YES MASTER CHIEF!”

“good” the half elf said as he resumed his pacing, “over the next eight weeks, you will undergo the most intensive training course that the Armies of Argyle have to offer, at which time a select few of you will attain the title and duties of ‘Honey Smith’. Many of you will not make it, my course has a 20% success rate, and I enjoy keeping it that way. Gentlemen, today and today only is your opportunity to drop out, just step forward and say the word ‘Enough’ and one of my men will see you safely from here. A ‘Not Suitable for Creating Honey’ will be placed on your file and you will be transferred to another unit without prejudice. After day one however, we do not accept transfer requests, Honey Smithing is the most dangerous job within the Armies of Argyle. Everyone takes a moment and look to your left, and again to your right, several of you will be dead before this course is over. All I can say is that their majesty’s thank you for your service, if you wish to cry or commiserate with the fallen, there is a small graveyard half a mile down that trail where failed Honey Smiths reside.” He pointed down the trail alarming many of the assembled to with the deadly serious tone within his voice. “Now I never end Day one without at least one washout, or death… always have to get one of the first day; bit of a tradition of ours. So, day one will not end, until one of you Die or Quits… Sargent Barry B Benson…” a human dressed in similar short shorts and vest jogged up from his post a little ways behind the Master Chief

“Yes Master Chief?”

“Day 1 if you please”

“Yes Master Chief!”


Dear Annabel,

I am unsure if you will get this or not, I am not allowed to send letters until I have completed my training course. In the spirit of my promise of writing however, I will still write a letter each day, and send them all upon completion. I am unsure of this new unit to which I have been assigned; things are a lot more serious here than I had previously though possible. I had thought this would be a place near a town where you could take up residence and I would be in the outdoors collecting and honey and tending flowers… that does not seem to be the case. Today we spent 16 hours carrying large barrels full of water to and from the River system to manually fill the irrigation system. Every time we achieved our goal, the Master Chief would drain the storage tanks and force us to do it again. Worse that this however was the fact that we were forced to work naked with some form of dust splattered upon us. The dust attacked no end of insects and we were harassed and bitten all day. Not even in the 16th Dact Hammers have I ever works so hard. We were not allowed rest nor water and any man trying to sneak either was brutally beaten. By days end (and I use that term sparingly as the sun had set and risen before the days end was called) two of our original ten had quit, a Human we had taken to calling Blinkie, and Half Elf named Dick. We were fed well after that, and offered beds to rest in which is where I know write to you. I am hoping that this was a scare tactic for day one and that like most units things will ease off a bit now, we are to report in a few hours to Mr. Jackson for Flower seduction and care… not sure what that is, but sounds easier than irrigation maintenance. I love you and look forward to seeing you as soon as I am finished training, bee well (pun intended) and take care,

Smiling Jack Whittman.

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Happenings pt 3

Date: 7th of Wealsun, 3:53pm

Location: Western Ridge, Four Miles from Pelegious

Duke Francis stared at Sir Alana stunned by what he had just heard. He was four miles from Pelagious and had agreed to go for a private ride alone with Alana before entering the city and making his intentions known. He had not been able to bring all his men with him and so now approached with only a dozen knights.

The young red headed girl sat upon her desitier with ease as she proclaimed her intentions and asked for his support. The Duke could not believe it, in truth he had hoped for the opposite.

“Alana… Sir Alana,” he corrected “you truly wish me to support you for Regent?” she nodded at him. He sighed and shook his head “I can’t, you know I can’t, you’re a General, that is amazing, but we still have a huge body of traditionalists, If I support you against Sir Diccon, the Older Knights will flock to his banner and assure him the crown, surly you see that? As Kingsley’s son, he already has a major advantage over us” Francis’s charger shuffled with agitation. Alana blew a stray lock from her eyes before responded

“Your Grace… uhhh…. Can we do away with the titles?” Francis nodded to her and she grinned, she appreciated that his reputation of not standing on ceremony was true. “Francis, I have the support of over sixty bloodied Knights, I have served as a General on the War Council and am in a position to propel our people forward, to enable us to claim new lands. The Gods of this time are fickle and active; they stole Morning Glory out from under you… I am in position where I have their ears and respect; we will need that in this theocratic land. You cannot protect our people like I can, and I can assure your goals are met. The traditionalists won’t support you anymore than me, but you are a Knight Bloodied and Named, who has one battles over and over again, declare for me and we can see our people propelled to new heights.” She gave him an irrepressible grin of youth, it was not returned. In truth Duke Francis had been relaying on the fact that the young General would support him.

“Alana, you don’t have the support, you are barley bloodied yourself, a knight so few years would have a hard time swaying the court, let alone the fact that you ask them to make major steps in electing a woman. Yes, it is a large step” he said stifling her rebuke “and if you are to lead you have to recognise that. There is also the matter of an heir, if you support me, I shall declare my daughter my heir, excelling your agenda and giving our people time to acclimatize to the change, you are not betrothed, have you plans to leave the battlefield to produce an heir? Will your husband be ok with sitting as prince, or lesser King to his Queen or usurp power from within? Let me pave the way here and set laws and precedents.” He looked to her but her face was as stone, he could not tell if he was swaying her or not. “After the war I will see you granted hereditary lands, you will have the chance to continue your house and rise to be a well-respected member of my court… together we can do this”

The two sat astride overlooking the last valley to Pelegaious for over an hour, each attempting to sway the other and bring them to their banner. Sadly it was for not, The House of Oula and the House of Omeath rode into the city under separate banners, each proclaiming their right of regency of the Honalian people.

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Sleepless

Leaving Selwyn to her thoughts Raven left her chambers into the dim lit hallways. He was great full for her company though he wished it was under better circumstances. He wished too often that he could do more, too often that she could face these days with joy and support instead of being cooped up in a dark keep with a crazy old fey and a train of anxieties dragging on her mind. He exhaled quietly, if wishes were that easy the war would be over. He would do what he could for her while she was here and trust in her will and temperance win the battle she fought within herself.

He paused in front of his room. It was late enough to sleep. he should sleep. he thought to himself, but though fatigue hung off his limbs it seemed not to reach his head. He would not sleep, he had not slept since that day in the glade since he saw his brothers ashen face, since he had felt Sonaris’ life force ripped away even while he had still been within ravens head. Raven strode into the forge igniting the enchanted flame with a thought picking through the carefully, almost obsessively, organized tools on the wall while he waited for the fire to heat. He needed to work needed to create needed to drive away his thoughts with the dull comfort of rout actions. He began his work hammering out the shapes in the metal with painstaking precision even as the tridents shape became clearer he was already weaving the gold dust into its core allowing the mystical metal to act as the conduit for the magic he would imbue into it later. Layer upon layer of ancient technique taught by countless master smiths flowed from his thoughts into his hands with learned efficiency yet each step seemed accompanied by and unbidden memory. for hours he worked driving each errant thought away with the stroke of his hammer or the hiss of the quenching. while the shadows of loss danced on the smithy walls. Each hammer stroke became a bell toll for one of his old Friends. Clang Dalathan clang Lameyith clang Sonarious…. sometime past midnight his hammer stopped falling. his eyes blurred with tears as he tried to keep working. His chest felt as if some tiny being was trying to force its way out through his ribs trying to flee from the void that grew there. finally he slumped to his knees overcome by the loss and the memories he wept. His forehead pressed against the cold steel anvil he bid fond goodbyes to his dear friends and his only Brother. “Unknown to death nor known to life” he murmured “I stand on the threshold waving goodbye. A bringer of both yet unable to die”

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Winter Haven Tea

The fire crackled warmly as the tea kettle began to sing its shrill song. Selwyn lay along a sofa in her new quarters within Winter Haven. The room glowed warmly with the roaring fire, and several candle tapers lit. The large bear skin rug on the floor and tapestries helped take the chill out of the normally cold stone. She stuck her tongue out as she shuffled through papers once more and worked hard not to drip or blot ink on any of the orders she had painstakingly written out. It was difficult enough to keep track of whom was where and what orders they were under, harder still now that she was out of direct contact with everyone and having to send all missives in writing. She was eager for the morrow when Telchor, her butler from the prison would arrive and aid her in some of the organizing and sealing duties. She looked across the room to Raven who was finishing preparing the tea, he was giving her that look, a look crafted over the centuries, one that said “I won’t tell you to stop working, cause you need to decide that for yourself, but seriously, you need to stop working now”. She sighed in frustration at her situation. This was not her, missing wings, a leg, pregnant, poisoned or sick, and now on bed rest… she was a warrior, she should be pushing the lines forward, or at least seeing her men healed and cared for, there was too much to do to just sit around.

Raven, seeing some success, brought the tea over and collected the missives making two piles on a table well out of reach of Selwyn, one pile of those ready to be sent out that evening, and the other that still would need her attention at a later time. With grace wrought of millennia he floated back to her teacup, offering a generous dollop of honey

“The tea is quite bitter, but will increase circulation and decrease your nausea, the honey will help make it more palatable” He gruffed. Selwyn inhaled deeply over the steaming cup and quickly accepted the tea, she had a quick internal debate if the cure was worse than the symptoms, but she knew Raven had spent hours in the greenhouse finding the right herbs and mixing them, the least she could do is choke it down. She took a long pull from the tea and shuddered at the flavor, she had to admit though the nausea all but dissipated almost instantly. She resettled under her blankets and stared into the fire, mumbling about what was next on her list

“Ya, quite the conundrum there” Raven said. Selwyn looked up, not realising she had spoken aloud, she arched her eyebrows in question

“Tukin I mean, that’s a tricky one, spanning back centuries” Raven mused, staring at an old tapestry that she realized was actually from Tukin. Selwyn sat a little straighter realising that Ravens history may be of aid here

“Raven, what do you know of Tukin? Or this Book of Silver? Why can’t they see I was doing what I had to do to save them? Why is Sir Ambrose being so….. so thick?

Raven chuckled to himself as he gazed thousands of miles away remembering something “Sir Ambrose, of the House of Cantlyn, what a family… that man is the spitting image of his great grandfather, startled me fiercely when I first saw him in Tukin”

“You knew his great grandfather? Have you had a history in Tukin or with his family?” Selwyn asked, eager to gain as much knowledge she could about Tukin, and to be distracted from her current circumstance. Raven gave her a look reminding her that her questions were ridiculous, he had history everywhere, but he answered anyway

“Ya, I’ve spent a lot of time in Tukin over the years, it’s a pleasant place to rest when the road becomes hard. Lemeath was a good King, and a great person, better than most of us…” Raven trailed off here and it was not hard even in the orange light of the fire to see his eyes tearing, Selwyn did not mention it, she realised that Raven had likely been closer to the Dragon King then any of them, and that as an immortal the loss of a long livid friend, one that could almost be seen as a constant in an ever changing world would be harder loss than many. After a prolonged silence the fey bard continued “The house of Cantlyn has produced many fine knights, knights that live and die by the Book of Silver, they are fine men, excellent men, who will follow their liege into the very gates of hell without breaking or faltering, but they will not violate their code, not for anything… If you make Sir Ambrose your enemy, he will not compromise, nor grow tired and give up, it will be his life’s work to see things put to right… as the Books of Silver sees it” Raven moved across the room to the fire pit, and kneeled down removing his pipe from his pouch, carefully he began to scrape out the bowl and clean it focusing on his task. Selwyn took another long pull of the horrid tea, before speaking

“The Book of Silver keeps coming up, how can I hope to come to terms with them when I haven’t read it, no one has save the knights… I can’t let them just kill Sir Keaton after he followed my orders” Raven began packing pipe weed into his pipe he chuckled

“I have read the Book of Silver…”

“You have? How?”

“It’s a dry read as far as legendary books go…” he mused, Selwyn glared at him, and Raven had to fight to contain his smile, but his fey nature demanded he strung her a long a little

“In the early years of Angose, shortly after Sir Loth Loranne had written it…” he stopped and pulled an ember from the fire to light his pipe, puffing a few times to assure it was lit before he continued “I snuck up into the High Palace, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, there really is not much to it… the beginning chapters speak of Angose, and Sir Loth Loranne’s exitious from the Knights of Damie, his befriending and King Delgrim and joining the Angosian Empire. It is a real dry history, no nonsense or elaboration and straight to the point, really hard to read, Sir Loth Loranne was many things but a talented author was not one of them.” The next chapter goes on to explain the old code, and how a knight should live, pious and religious but understanding that not all can live that way. The Old Code goes on as such

A Knight is sworn to valor
His Heart knows only Virtue
His Blade defends the Helpless
His Might upholds the Weak
His Word Speaks only Truth
His Wrath undoes the wicked

It goes on to speak of courage; one of the original warrior virtues, one that is shared by all warrior cultures, along with loyalty and prowess. To be courageous, it says, is doing the right thing regardless of cost; it is a condition of a strong soul rather than a strong body.
‘If chivalry were stronger of body than is strength of courage’” Raven began to quote “‘the order of chivalry would be more in accord with the body than with the soul. If it were such then the body would be more noble than the soul, and that is openly false. Nobility of courage may not be vanquished of men, nor surmounted, nor all of these men who have been what he is in his right of strength. And when a body is lightly taken and vanquished of another, it is obvious that the courage of man is more strong and noble than the body. A knight who accompanies his lord or brother into battle, who for lack of courage flees the battle when he should give aid, because he more redoubts or fears torment or peril more than of his courage uses not the office of chivalry. Neither is he the servant nor obedient to other honours, but is against the honour of chivalry than to the greater one of the soul, unto chivalry should accord sloth of heart and cowardice against the hardiness and strength of courage. And if it were thus, sloth and courage should be the office of a knight and hardness and strength should disordian the order of chivalry.’” Raven took several long puffs of his pipe, lost now in time, as he looked back through the centuries and felt himself their reading the text in the Book of Silver; he drew breath again and began to quote once more

“The Oath of Protection
Call when you need of me
Ask what you will of me
My Sword, My Service are yours

This chapter speaks heavily of a Knight in ability to turn from aid of any who request it, if a Knight of Tukin’s aid is requested by any in need, he cannot in conscious turn away from it, no matter what’s at stake.

The Followers the Oath of Chaining
I am your brother,
My life is your life,
Your joy is my joy
My honour is your honour
Your Anger is my anger,
My Friends are your friends,
Your enemies are my enemies,
My secrets are your secrets,
Your Oaths are my Oaths,
My goods are your goods,
You are my brother,

This oath speak boldly to the knights brotherhood, they take it literally and share and join in everything, when this oath is made to the Hand or the King, the first line says I am your servant, and the final line says You are my Lord. There is magic surrounding this ceremony, the Knights can feel it when another falls in battle, they share the pain… for Sir Keaton to have killed Sir Galen or to duel, they would have each felt it deeply the wounds they were inflicting and the feelings of betrayal they both had. Keaton is a man of remarkable constitution to have done what you asked of him” Raven took several other long draws on his pipe, and took a moment to pour himself some wine, he moved to a chair near the fire and poked at the embers as he entered the next chapter of the Book of Silver, the Ten Commandments of the Code of Chivalry.

“Thou shalt believe all that the King teaches and shalt observe all of his directions”
Thou shalt defend Tukin
Thou shalt respect all weaknesses, and shalt constitute thyself the defender of them
Thou shalt love the country in which thou wast born
Thou shalt not recoil before thine enemy
Thou shalt make war against true evil without cessation, and without mercy
Thou shalt perform scrupulously thy feudal duties, if they be not contrary to the Knights Code
Thou shalt never lie, and shall remain faithful to thy pledged word.
Thou shalt be generous and give largess to everyone
Thou shalt be everywhere and always a champion of the Right and the Good against Injustice and Evil.

The Code of Chivalry as written follows as such

Live to serve the King, His Hand and Country.
The Hand is the King, the Hands word is the Kings.
Live to defend Crown and Country and all it holds dear.
Live one’s life so that it is worthy of respect and honour.
Live for Freedom, Justice and all that is good.
Never raise blade to an unarmed foe.
Never use a weapon on an opponent not equal to the attack.
Never attack from behind.
Never lie to your fellow man.
Never Cheat.
Never Torture.
Obey the law of King, Country, Chivalry and the Book of Silver
Administer Justice.
Protect the innocent.
Exhibit self-control.
Respect Authority
Respect Women.
Exhibit Courage in word and deed.
Defend the weak and innocent
Destroy evil in all of its monstrous forms.
Fight With Honour
Avenge the wronged with Justice.
Never abandon a friend, ally or noble cause.
Fight for the ideals of King, Country, Chivalry and the Book of Silver
Die with valor.
Always keep ones honour.
Always maintain ones principles.
Never Betray a confidence or comrade.
Respect Life.
Exhibit manners.
Be attentive.
Respect host, women and honour.
Loyalty to the King, Country and Brotherhood.
Loyalty to the Book of Silver.
Loyalty to ones friends and those who lay their trust in thee.

The Book of Silver speaks that breaking these laws is unthinkable, to betray brother and King is the greatest of dishonours. It merely says that ‘There is no life, no Honour and no Reason for a fallen brother’ by many hands, and by the King this has been interrupted as a death sentence, though Sir Adrien was a bit softer and set the precedence of banishment for a fallen brother, arguing that life without honour our outside of Tukin was no life at all” Raven took a few more deep puffs on his pipe before turning to Selwyn “the reminder of the book is filled with tales written by the past hands exemplifying these codes and ideals” Raven finished his pipe and moved back to the fire to scrape the bowl once more

“Tukin has always been a bastion of peace and light, at least since Loth Loraine took up Kingship. It was the only city to truly speak against the edicts of the Church of Damie as things spiraled before the invasion. They went so far as to throw the church out, can you imagine that? A paladin removing his church from his city due to suspected corruption… Tukin stands for what is truly right, always, at no time can an argument of the ends justifies the means be made, if you are to save our Sir Keeton’s life, you will have to argue that what was truly right was done” Selwyn looked to Raven as he finished his musings, she could not tell from his tone if he wished Selwyn success here or not. She finished her tea silently deep in thought about what to do next.

View
Cabinet of Kelezandri

Date: the 7th of Wealsun, 9:03am
Location: The Former Senate Chambers of Morning Glory, Central Rehume

The group entered the former Senate Chambers of Rehume, far too large or nice for what they required, yet still a room worthy and arranged for a meeting such as this each member grabbed a nearby desk and sat down, they were as follows:
Avatar Ananmachara of Trien’lar
Avatar Hansel Smith
Commandant Gyles of Rehume, Head of Fluid Dynamics
Commander Tiberious Teddious, Commander of the Bear Legion
Master Gary Windson, Dean of the Panoptic Laboratory of Enlightenment
Captain Funda, Lead Scout and Waterways Guardian
Torrent Nigel Hodgenson, General of the A of A and head of Kelezandri Religion on Argyle
Varrick Galespiri, Governor of Rehume
Zhu’li, Assistant to the Governor of Rehume
Master Architect Terrence
Master Engineer Phillip
Captain Cascade of Zhil’Nor, Head of Rehume Defense
Honoured Meredith, Master of Coin of the Bank of Rehume (BoR) 9.87mil
Beaverlee, Head of Rehume Magical Education and Integration Program
Captain Dana Shepherd of the Krakens Exodus
Master Smith, Waim Feamly of Highport
Captain Anarataan of the Fey’s Lust
And via Crystal ball
Captain Abigail Sampson of the Wandering Buccaneer
Captain Arrow of Kelezandri’s Claw
Captain George Cooper of the Stubby Narwhale
and
Avatar Aleau of Water

Varrick stood with a nod from Hansel and raised his hands to signal to commence of the meeting.
“Welcome all, I think this first time we have all sat in the same room, thank you all for making the time and journey today, it’s good to finally put a face to the names I read on so many reports. Please as we get settled make sure you help yourselves to some of the delicious carrot scones that were baked by our own Zhu’li for this occasion” there was a few mumbles of praise and scattered applause for the scones, a couple members even rose to get another before the meeting in truth resumed. “I have been tasked by the Avatars to get a real picture of where Kelezandri’s army stands, now, after this more recent attack it is more importance forever, each of you will be called upon to give report and questioned. Though we all have ranks and titles I have been asked by the Avatars to assure you that they mean nothing in the room, we want opinions, and discussion here, for the duration of this meeting we are as equals. Since Rehume is hosting this meeting I have been called upon to arbitrate it. If I cut you off, it means stop talking, else… well you will have to deal with Zhu’li” Varrick let that hang out there for a moment confusing a few of those who did not know his assistant well. He then shuffled a few papers and began

“Commander Tiberius, why don’t you get us started” Varrick said. The small stuffed bear rose and climbed on top of his desk to better be seen

“Thank you Governor and you may call me Tibbers. Ahem… we have managed to reunite 76% of the children saved during the oil attack. The remaining 24% have been relocated here to Rehume and are being cared for at the River Hospice off of Streamway Avenue. We expect to reunite the remaining children within the week, else have them transferred into the formal foster system. There is a possibility that some of their parents did not survive the attack after all. Currently we have 18 children here in Rehume waiting for Bears, twice a week we have someone shuttling children to and from Chistles Point to meet the Swan May and receive their guardian. Bear Training and order remains at satisfactory levels and aside from one minor incident that is currently being attributed to spontaneous combustion, our bears have done a fantastic job in the realm of child safety. Recruitment within Kelezandri’s Realm continues to hold acceptable levels, though should we have another major rush for Bears we may start to see some troubles on that end. All in all the Bear Legions are performing at optimal levels and are ready to continue service” the bear nodded to the group and retook his seat. Varrick jumped back up thanking the bear and then calling upon Master Phillip. The large water elemental took on a more humanoid form as he addressed the group

“Thank you Governor, Kelezndri’s Flood, or project K-Flood as we have taken to calling it continues to drag. We are still waiting on earth shapers from The Stone’s Army to aid us in the task, I have be notified that the order has come down from the Chistle, but in the after math of what has occurred the final paperwork has not made it into the right hands yet, all reports are that they were hit hard during the Oil attack. I have received notice that Hithilium will be sending us a few hundred miners to aid with the trenches which should increase our project success rate, though no specific timeline on their arrival, or if they are walking, being shipped or teleported from Chistles Point. Currently with no additional aid we should have the moat completed by Goodmonth and the connection river completed by mid Patachwall.”

“That is unacceptable!” the voice called out, it was the Avatar of Ice standing now and pointing a disapproving finger across the room. “I need to have the river connected by early Reaping, at the latest” the water elemental began to drip with concern as he stumbled over his words

“Avatar, th… tha… that’s just not realistic, even if I had the miners and the Stones people tomorrow it would be near impossible to finish on that time line, we would have crews working around the clock I don’t have the man power or the…”

“I don’t care about the logistics Phillip” her words cut through his like a schooner through the surf “It will be done by the 8th of Reaping, it has to be, as that is the only way to get our army where it needs to be by Ready’reat, failure here is not an option… Varrick!”

“Yes Avatar?”

“Cut through Phillips red tape, I want the Stones people working on this by tomorrow and the miners here by the end of the week, also send him whatever skilled or semi-skilled labour we can drum up, I don’t care if we have the kids carrying buckets, I need this project on schedule, and I want you to remove every excuse that Phillip may come up with as to why it can’t happen, understood?”

“yes Avatar” Varrick turned to look to Zhu’li but she was already nodding to him and excusing herself from the room, he gestured to Phillip to return to the floor, but the water elemental waved it off, conceding his time, and stating that his report in essence was complete. “Well then, that was… productive, let’s move forward, Terrence?” The hulking earth elemental rose,

“I have completed the design phase for Rehume’s revitalisation and construction; copies have been submitted to Fluid Dynamics and Rehume Defense to appraise. Currently Design is underway for our Wizards Towers, Dock Yards, and Training Facilities. Most of the warehouses towards the outside of the city are in the process of being repurposed for our shipwrights and construction efforts, those projects are on schedule. We have a third of our man power still working in Chistles Point as we have broken ground on the Panoptic Laboratory of Enlightenment, we hope to have the skeleton of the design finished before winter.” The elemental continued to give his reports on various building projects before yielding the floor Varrick thanked him before calling upon the Captain Cascade

“Thank you governor, City defense is at 40% efficiency right now. If the A of A were to recall its troops to another location the city would not be able to defend itself. In addition to this most of our people have been tapped to aid in tracking down oiled allies; a noble duty, but one that leaves the city without a formal guard. Crime is up in the city as well, transfers and orders are submitted to us as an afterthought and we have no idea who is coming and going, large groups or refuges and armed soldiers march through our gates and take up residence where ever they choose, this is not how to run a city watch. Most crime is dealing with theft and physical abuse, but if we don’t get an organised watch in order soon this will swell and possible turn into a thieves guild. I would request that my men not be pulled from their posts without a direct order of emergency from the Governor, and that all transfer orders and troop movements within the city be sent through my office. In addition to this, I need a minimum of six hundred more men to adequately protect this city and combat crime.

“600 more people?” Captain Abigial voice called from the crystal ball “Are you daft Captain?”

“Now Abigail, let’s remain civil whi…” Varrick began but she cut him off
“That is Captain Abigail Governor, and no, my question stands, Captain Cascade, are you daft?” she paused just long enough to cause those present to wonder if she actually expected an answer before she resumed “We are fighting a war, and you want to pull 600 combat trained men from the field to play city watch in your city? that is insane… get in the fight!”

“I object to that, or the implications that the duty of the watch is not important! We are the centre of Kelezandri’s resources here, order must be maintained.” Cascade hollered

“Order means a whole lot of nothing if we lose the war!” came the ship Captains response

“Captain’s” Nigel raised his hands trying to bring calm to the room “can we not find a compromise? Perhaps some soldiers could be rotated through as a breather between front lines and leave?” Captain Cascade was shaking his head before Nigel finished

“With all due respect Torrent, No, we are talking about policing here, not soldiering, we don’t want soldiers to be police, soldiers are trained to kill, police are trained to keep the peace, we are trying to build a civilisation here, one that will last beyond the end of the war, and I need men trained to do this job in order to do it.” there was a long silence before anyone spoke, but then it was Avatar Ananmachara who did

“Three Hundred men; permanent. The rest will be rotated through and placed under the watchful guidance of your core force; it’s the best you’re going to get” there was an air of finality to the statement, and nod from Cascade said the offer had been accepted.

Varrick seized upon the temporary peace and pushed into the next topic quickly he began introducing Gyles from Fluid Dynamics. The thin pale Halfling stood looking around the room before he spoke in a soft whisper of a voice that caused most to strain to hear him.
“We’re all going to die, at this rate anyway” he let that hang out there for a long time before he continued. “Captain Cascade was correct in the pitiful security measure being taken here in Rehume, unfortunately they are the best out of all of our bases and locations. Spies are everywhere, and we have no procedures or protocols to stop them, and it’s not just us, aside from Don-Ton and the Wizards of Thay, counter intelligence and intel security is disgustingly lax. I managed to sneak in and overhear the entire war council meeting that happened yesterday and….

“What!?” Avatar Hansel and Nigel stood in unison in shock, Anamachra was a moment behind. If the Halfling was intimidated or flustered he did not show it.
“yes, I did, I needed to test our security measures, and you know what I found… none, I walked into a nearby room, put a glass to the door to yours and listened… this is low tech and easy for anyone to do, we need to upgrade our security measure significantly.”

“No more spying on war council meetings!” Nigel hollered, visibly perturbed. Again the Halfling shrugged like the point was being missed

“Another example? Just this morning I caught some snoop looking through dispatch orders in one of our offices. He has been subdued and after some interrogation found to be on some sinister order known as ‘The White Ravens’ I have not yet had a chance to verify if such an order exists, but after this meeting I intend to speak with him… more intensely” Hansel stood as Anamachras face found its way to the palm of her hand

“ I know of the White Ravens, please keep the man confined but question him no further, I will speak to his commander and handle this personally” the Halfling looked up at the Avatar

“Are you sure Avatar, but give me the name and I am confident I could handle this without taxing your time…” he stopped as the Avatar waved off his arguments. He nodded and resumed his report. Stating what resources would need to be put in place and whom would be the founding members of his team in order to set up security protocols. The hours ticked away and lunch was served and cleared before the Fluid Dynamics head yielded the floor.

Varrick jumped up at the pause and quickly rechecked the agenda “Master of Coin Meredith”

The Locathah rose from his small pool and took the floor “Why do we meet on the surface when it is most uncomfortable for most of us?” no response, though the question had merit, the locathah did not wait, he plowed into his report “currently the treasury as 9.87 million in value of Don-Tonian Gold Standard. Our highest order of business is currently a Smelter and a mint; the new money will take the form of small dragon scales, with a printing of the trident on one side, and the water emblem on the other, as well as date and Avatar Names. The Scales will be a little lighter than a Don-Tonian GP in order to stave off suspicions, it should value at about half the Don-Ton Current Value.” The master of coin went on to explain the circumstances of the Bank and how the minting process would be implemented, once he finished he came around to the business of yesterday “and so after final tally, with damages to the vault, and the jems and coinage inside, we lost about 87,000 gp in that little exchange, with your permission Avatars, I will forward the bill to the church of Hithilum? Or should it be the Dwarven Army?”

Both Avatars present stood at this shaking their heads Anamachara offered to have her wages garnished to repay it, but Hansel pushed it further

“it is what we do for our ally’s, it is a cost we gladly absorbed, and will not complain about again” the Master of Coin was unhappy, but as ordered did not complain

The meeting carried on throughout the day, information was brought forward of the new war ship
Neptune’s Compass
And the two new transports
The Unknown Feline and the Hookers Jewel

The ships were nearing completion at Chistles Point, after these ships, the ship wrights and tools would be relocated to Rehume. A debate was launched on the value of transports versus war ships, versus barges and how much of each the army would sponsor.

The Master Smith spoke of the weapons supplies and the plans of armament and armor and quickly these would be in circulation, resources were divvied and men were relocated to accommodate. Avatar Aleau updated all on her mission and stated she expected a speedy and safe return within two weeks. Finally George Cooper stood and spoke

“Contact has been made in Don-Ton, we have bought shares in the Ship Wright Guild, The Explorers Guild and the Guild of his Majesties Royal Fleet. We also have circulated bribes and have friends in the labour union, the dock hand unions, the crane unions and the beggers coalition. Unfortunate times have led Don-Tonian steet gangs to in fighting… we are doing are best to steer clear of this, but are currently circulated some money and benefits to see which Ships in Don-Ton may want to find religion. The Stubby Narwhale has rented Pier 7, and semi-permanent accommodations at an Inn called the Shattered Blessing, this should allow locals to contact us if need be, and cut costs as we begin formal trade with Don-Ton.” More questions were asked of the Captain, but the charismatic Captain was able to respond to them all without answering any.

As the sun set and throats were parched there was a sense of accomplishment in the cabinet of Kelezandri as they rose smiled and left, ready with orders and plans to continue their efforts.

View
Happenings Pt 2

Date: 6th of Wealsun, 10:14pm

Location: Cordington Tower, Western Wall, Tukin

Sir Ambrose paced back and forth his heavy grey brows furrowed as he worked to keep his temper in check. The elegantly dressed Count Palatine Blanefield Hanafin the 3rd of Don-Ton stood before him pleading his case in his dandy purple jerkin and red sash.
“You know, a man of my standing would normally be greeted in the palace, with wine and breads, not in a gate tower and offered little more than a dusty chair” the Count protested. Sir Ambrose snorted

“In Tukin, a man of your standing, a man who associates himself with the undead, would normally be greeted by a sword through his chest, My king has chosen, for reasons that allude me, to see you as ally’s, meaning I will hear you out, but do not expect to be wined or wooed, no comfort will be found for those of your ilk here in Tukin.” If the count was taken aback by the Knights harsh words or harder tone he did not show it, he smiled a thin smile and proceeded as if he were offered the most heartfelt of apologies

“No matter than, It has come to my attention that the Dwarven Queen has laid siege to the most pious nation of Tukin, during the Kings absence, and that this will now be declared one of her city states… is that so?” Sit Ambrose snorted again, something that the Count was beginning to see he was quite skilled at

“Is that how the snakes and worms that hide behind shields of books are spinning this in Don-Ton?” another snort “The matter of Tukin are just that, and should we have problem we will handle it in a lawful and just manner…”

“Precisely why I am here noble Knight…” the Count jumped in “we cannot allow a culture of ‘Might Makes Right’ to prevail during these times, else what separates us from the very creatures we battle against? Don-Ton is here, wishing to offer it’s assistance to the good people of Tukin during these unfortunate occupation, we would see this Pretending Wench…”

SMACK!

The count reeled out of the wooden chair and tumbled over himself once before coming to a stop, a trickle of blood began to trace its way down his face as he felt his now very crooked nose, he hollered several profanities in pain, but stopped short of blaspheming any of the gods as the Knight strode across the room and violently picked him up but his fancy silk sash. The Knight held the count uncomfortably close, so close that the Count imagined he could feel the bristles of the missed morning shave rubbing against his cheek as the Knight growled into his ear.

“She is a female, she is royalty of the highest order, and of our most powerful ally, and, most importantly she is an Angel, springing from the divine pantheon that was once Damie’s. Whatever yours or my personal opinions, on whatever actions, perceived or real, that she has taken… she will be addressed with the respect due to her rank, race and gender. This is a mistake you will not make a second time, have I made myself understood?

The Count nodded and mumbled something, visibly shaken, and clearly upset by his misjudgment of the man who stood before him. Seeing his nod, the Knight lowered him back to the ground, apologised for the blow, pulling out a hanky and offering it to stem the bloodied nose, and even went so far as to straighten the man’s sash.

“You were saying Count?”

The Count paused a moment but quickly regained his composure “We merely wish to assure that Tukin, is not crushed under the influence and power of the Dwarven Queen”

Sir Ambrose shook his head in disgust at the man before him “I do not work with the dead, and I most certainly do not deal or scheme with them, The Conclave will meet in seven days and a new hand will be elected, should Her Majesty choose to interfere it will be handled by the Knights of Tukin, in accordance with the Book of Silver, not by Don-Tonian Lawyers, Fops or Undead… no, get out of this fair city…” the Count waited expecting a threat of some kind to follow, none did, but that did not put him at ease, he returned the hanky and left through the outer door of the Tower, rejoining his small retinue to return to Don-Ton. ‘Tukin” he thought to himself ‘there is no working with men like that’ with that he made a mental note to assure the truth of his thoughts, and ordered his men to take him home.

View
Happenings Pt 1

Date: 6th of Wealsun, 8:52pm (5 hours and 37 minutes after Selwyn departed for Winter Haven)

Location: Coarshire Palace, Pelagious

Sir Diccon entered the dining hall waving to several of knights who dined at varied tables. Normally they would eat at the first table with him, but he had spread his comrades amongst the other knights and titled Honalians, he would need to act quickly to solidify his claim. He made his way to the head table and sat in his father’s chair; he took a moment to console his mother, and then waved to have his food brought out. The plate had just been set in front of him when the hall’s doors were cast open and in entered his expected guests. He rose from his chair and strode forward to greet them.

“Viceroy Essack, Viceroy Charblien welcome, welcome” he stopped short of clasping their hands remembering himself at the last moment and offering a ceremonial bow instead. It was Viceroy Essack who spoke first

“Greetings Sir Diccon, our most humble condolences on the loss of your father the Regent; what can this humble spokesmen of the Arachniss do for you?” there was a menacing smile from the man, the smile of a man who knew exactly what was required and how it would be done, Sir Diccon nodded accordingly.

“Come, Come, you have journeyed to be here, and must dine before we speak in earnest” with that he waved and servants had two more seats placed at the head table, and for the first time since the Honalians had stepped into this time, the Viceroys sat in a position of power.

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Sending Hope out into the Void

My dearest Yolo,

I do not blame you for leaving. I know that you were trying to do right by our people, our daughter, and me. I love you for the man that you are, never forget that. You have been gone now for 3 days, and I will be giving birth to our daughter in 6 more. The day after you left there was a battle, and I was infected with a magical disease. The darkness is trying to consume our daughter, and will likely kill me. But the cure could kill her. That I cannot allow. So you see it is I who must apologize. Although the armies will meet you at the Stronghold, there is little chance that I will be among them. But our daughter will. Somewhere either in the ranks or waiting patiently at a safe point will be our beautiful Soshanna. And whether I’m there or not, you must take care of her, you must teach her to be strong and kind. I know that you will show each other the way. And one day, long from now, we will all be together again.

I’ll get the Man-Cave ready,

Selwyn

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Chistle's Point Black Oil Zombies

Chistle’s Point Black Oil Zombies

black_oil_zombies.jpg

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A Steamy Bet

To: Master Hansel Smith, Avatar of Kelezandri

From: Governor Varrick Galespiri of Rehume

Hello and welcome noble Avatar, please allow me to commence by making your acquaintance. Torrent Nigel with the loving grace of Kelezandri has recently placed the governance of the Brackish Emperor’s Holy City of Rehume in my hands. My priorities at this time are to ensure a safe place for the worshipers and friends of his Brackish Lordship to live and thrive, to create a city that will be a strong asset to the Armies of Argyle in our current conflict, and to begin a sustainable city that may thrive after this conflict has been resolved. Lofty goals I know, but with Kelezandri on our side there is nothing that we cannot achieve. As one of my earliest priorities is safety and security, I am currently designing an evacuation plan for our non-fighting citizenship should the need arise… I would like to take advantage of our aqueducts and in order to do so would need positions of water breathing, approximately seven hundred to start. I know that is a tall order, and I was at the point of thinking it impossible but the Noble Torrent than bet me that the Avatar of Steam could have this done in less than two hours. Not to doubt your amazing talents but I have bet the good Torrent a cask of fine red wine that potions in that number in that timeline would be impossible for one man (even with an assistant) to make. The Torrent was adamant, and the cause is just one way or the other, so what do you say, could you settle a friendly bet, and perhaps increase moral? I thank you in advance of your considerations.

Written as dictated by,

Governor Varrick Galespiri

PS: It is my understanding that you are also a huge fan of humor and Jokes, I paid a boy named Travis 12 figs and an apple for this one as it truly tickled me, the lad is not yet 9 and has such a keen mind.

Where do the fish keep their money?
A RIVER-BANK!
Ohhh, anyway please enjoy, but assure credit is given to young Travis should you retell it, Kelezandri’s Blessing upon you.

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Rehume

Built Over What was once Morning Glory the city has taken a whole new shape, being quickly connected to Argyles River System Via the River Prometheus

it is Led by Govener Varrick Galespiri who was appointed Directly by the Avatars of Kelezandri

It has a Population of about 7000 residents plus usually has about 4000 troops passing through or stationed there

Bakers 13 Bankers 7 Buckle Makers 4 Doctors 3 Inns 7 Painters 6

Scabbardmakers 7 Weavers 26

Barbers 40 Butchers 6 Fishmongers 3 Jewelers 16 Pastrycooks 20

Sculptors 6 Wine-sellers 19

Bathers 3 Carpenters 15 Furriers 57 Locksmiths 5 Plasterers 9

Shoemakers 46 Woodcarvers 5

Beer-sellers 8 Chandlers 15 Glovemakers 3 Magic Shops 4

Pursemakers 7 Spice Merchants 6 Woodsellers 1

Blacksmiths 9 Chicken Butchers 5 Harness-makers 3 Maidservants 30

Roofers 7 Tailors 18

Bleachers 4 Coopers 17 Hatmakers 4 Masons 28 Ropemakers 4

Tanners 4

Bookbinders 3 Copyists 7 Hay Merchants 7 Mercers 21 Rugmakers 3

Taverns 13

Booksellers 2 Cutlers 4 Illuminators 4 Old Clothes 35 Saddlers 13

Watercarriers 20

The peace is kept by 172 guardsmen, and there are 13 advocates to assist with legal matters. For those more concerned about their soul, there are 237 clergymen and 14 priests

Nigel knelt before the well finishing his prayer to the Mighty Brackish Emperor, the city of Rehume still sparkled with the ever flowing well and the setting sun caused the streets to glow as if crafted with heavenly gold, it truly was a sight to behold. Slowly the ageing Halfling stood and looked over the auspicious vision; he teared slightly thanking his god for bringing more beauty to a world normally marred with pain and anguish; too often these days he only saw red when it meant the blood of the fallen or the skin of an enemy, it was good to know it still carried splendour as well.

“It is remarkable Torrent, the sun sets one last time on Morning Glory, and in the dawn we shall truly bring forth Rehume.” Nigel turned to see the speaker as he rose from the well. He was well groomed with a finely manicured goatee the beard held in place by a simple gold band; he stood perhaps sixteen feet in height, and his black hair cascaded down to his shoulders, his green eyes looked all the more vivid in contrast to his muscled blue skin and they carried themselves with a hint of mirth. He wore a simple blue vest, an indigo brackish wyrm writhing across it, and large puffy pants of a purple and golden hue. Nigel immediately recognised and bowed his head in respect to the Marid; nobles of the plane of water were to be respected of course. The large fellow stepped from well and as he did so shrunk himself to about half his height. “Greetings Nobel Torrent…” his baritone voice boomed as he bowed his head in mutual respect “I am Varrick Galespirit, and I have been sent to aid you with the new city of Rehume” Nigel smiled up at him

“Thank you Varrick, and thanks be to the Brackish Lord, it is a huge job set before us”

“That is why they sent me, I am the largest of my kin” the marid boomed in laughter at his joke, and it was quickly contagious. In moments the two were fast friends speaking on the challenges and work that needed to be done in order to turn Rehume into not only a beautiful holy city, but also an asset to the Armies of Argyle

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We Need More not Less Dakka

Chief Hogar Gnomecrusher stomped back and forth as we watched the trolls return. Several of his men had wondered out of the camp and into the gnome battlements. They had waited in line and requested supplies and now were coming back with them. They had given power to those weaker than them, they had submitted to gnomes! He grabbed a large stump and threw it at a nearby troll in his rage. The stump crushed the trolls skull and bounced down the hill. A few of his men looked up, saw who had thrown the stump and went back to their routines without question. The violence didn’t cool the trolls blood, he turned and strode in anger towards the chief fire. He would speak to the other clan heads.

The Chief fire had four trolls sitting around it, a few orcs and humans cowed behind holding barrels of grog and spits of meat to give to the chiefs as they wished it. Hogar strode forth grabbing one of the orcs and tossing him in the fire, the cask of grog smashed on the rocks as the human screamed and crawled from the flames. The chiefs stood in anger at the rude approach of their peer.

“What is Hogar?” the youngest of the Chief’s demanded, he was a big Troll with two large horns on his head, his long black dreaded hair ran down his back and accentuated his narrow green eyes. “That was the last of our grog! And that man was under my protection, explain yourself”

“Shut your gnome loving mouth HornSlapper!” Hogar growled, he was in no mood to have a pup dictate behavior to him. He turned to the other senior chiefs. “Moredakka leads us to madness, he has us suckling at the Gnomish tit, and I for one.. yggg.. AHHHH… uggg!” his words were cut off as Hornslapper had grabbed a log waiting to be thrown on the fire and instead impaled his neck with it. the young chief did not relent; his horns crackling with lightening jutted forth, one gouging Hogars left eye, the other deafening the senior chief as it penetrated his ear. Hogars knees buckled involuntarily, he slumped but the tall Hornslapper held his hair keeping him in a kneeling position.

“THAT WAS MY MAN!” Hornslapper yelled into Hogars good ear “MY PROTECTION MEANS SOMETHING!” spit flew from the angry chief’s mouth landing on the bleeding wounded Hogar. Hogar was still stunned, the lightening from the horns had hit his brain, he could not move well and was waiting for his regeneration to kick back in. The young chief continued his tirade “THAT WAS THE LAST OF OUR GROG! YOU WILL GET US MORE!” the Troll was shaking in anger, as he yelled his left claw was ripping off Hogars right arm. “MOREDAKKA IS CHOSEN BY KABASH! KABASH CANNOT BE WRONG! THAT! MAKES! YOU! WROOOONNNNNGGGG!” with the last word Hogars arm was ripped off and his face felt a blow of his arm being slapped across it. The troll slumped to the ground dizzy from blood loss. HornSlappers rage did not abate, though now Hogar could barley make out the words as he felt his ribs break under the kicks and stomps that assailed him from the young chief “HOW DARE YOU QUESTION MOREDAKKA! HOW DARE YOU HURT MY MAN! MY MAN! MY PROTECTION!” the last conscious thought that Hogar recalled was the young chief picking him up over his head and screaming to the other chiefs “GNOMECRUSHER IS CHIEF NO MORE! HE TOOK MY MAN AND MY GROG, BUT HE IS WEAK SO I TAKE HIS CLAN!” he then had the sensation of flying as the young troll threw him down the hillside, he bounced several times causing other trolls orcs and goblins to scatter out of the way until he landed in a refuse pile near the bottom of the hill. It was here that blood loss, broken bones and humiliation got the better of him as he allowed himself to pass out.

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The Panoptic Labratory of Enlightenment

Master Gery Windston looked up from the final drawings and smiled, it was perfect. Avatar Hansel had told him to create plans for a worthy place of learning and this would be it, truley a Master Piece, something that anyone could look at and know that higher thought had been placed to illuminate Argyle’s darkest hours.

The Laboratory would be three stories, build with white marble columns following a Neo Classical Style, something Gery had always been a fan of back in Corus

Labratorys.jpg

he looked through the plans seeing drawing and designed for a few of the following rooms

Apprentice Alchemy laboratory – 3 separate labs created, each containing two full alchemists’ labs, common ingredients and basic books.

Henchmen’s quarters – rough quarters to sleep 6, a shared washroom, bathing facility and kitchen/common area. the grounds would need to be kept, a couple guards would be required, and here they would provide homes for these fine individuals

Lecture Hall – Hall can seat fifty with panoramic seating and stage equipped for alchemy, and lectures at front. the high ceilings marked with artisit murals would allow the speakers voice to carry to all the students there in.

Cages and holding pens – rooms where creatures under study are kept, or devil prisoners can be studied in saftey

Operating theaters – operating tables, scalpels and saws, designed more for training than long term serious surgery. With teh return of clerics there is a risk of the art of Doctoring disappearing, Gery thought it was key to continue to understand anatomy and continue our research into the bodies of our allies, and enemies.

Apprentice’s chambers – 7 chambers to be created to start, each has two bedrooms, a single small kitchen, greeting area/shared study room and washroom.

Observatory – telescope, astrological charts, hymns to those beyond the stars, this large towers room can hold up to ten and is to learn of the science of the heavens

Masters Laboratory – Rare ingredients, finest of equipment, rarest or restricted books
Storerooms – large rooms to hold vials, flasks, dry goods, oils inks and other equipment’s

Masters Chambers – Three such chambers would be created in hopes of new masters learning soon. Large bedrooms, with washroom and bathing facilities, a greeting room, study, and small kitchen as well.

Chapel – A small Chapel to Kelezandri, meant to hold twenty with a small apartment attached for the cleric who maintains it.

he ran his hand through his hair, envisioning this master piece. The Avatar had told him that the humans of this time were not so long lived. he would decreased the standard ten year apprenticeship to a six year curriculum giving savants an option to challenge as they saw fit.

Any were to be welcome within this new house of learning, but he was to arrange that Kelezandri’s faithful would have their tuition covered by the church…

He was eager, there was so much to show and share with the Avatar, he paced his quarters awaiting for Hansel to return and give him the OK to put people to work and construct one of the most beautiful buildings in all of Argyle.

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Troll Protocols

Head of Clans: Hedd Mordakka
Forms of address
Official Business: Hedd
Other Business: Chief, Hedd, Mordakka

Greetings [Equal]: Handshake will do. It is expected to use your full force, doing otherwise is an insult. Insulting the Hedd is insulting every Troll.
Greetings [Lesser]: Prostrate till acknowledged, do not make eye contact and show teeth at the same time. Doing so is a challenge. Challenges are to decapitation.

Gifts/Tribute:
Equal rank not expected.
Lesser rank expected to bring meat, strong drink, or weapons.

Things of Note:
1. Asking to disarm or disarming is heavily frowned upon. The punishment is dis-arming.
2. Liers may be thrown out, smashed, or decapitated depending on current mood and seriousness of offense.
3. Fancy social protocols will be ignored.
4. Don’t make the Hedd (or any troll) wait. They have a short temper.
5. General destruction is to be expected and not be a problem.
6. Avoid usage of fire or acid in vicinity of Hedd, unless given leave to do so.
7. Don’t threaten the Hedd.
8. Be brief and to the point. Verbal dancing around issues is boring, see point 4.
9. Clothing is entirely optional to every individuals preference.
10. Talking above ones might is asking to be put in your place. Conceitedness will get you killed. Arrogance will get you respect if you can prove it.
11. If you are too weak to handle offered fare, feel free to refuse it.

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A Dissertation on Trolls: Politics
By Dr. Jullian Comstock

Troll politics. You would think “What politics? They don’t have any society worth needing politics.” That’s quite wrong. Just because they don’t have cities, walls, and kings, does not mean they don’t have politics.

The first thing to know, is that Troll tribes or clans, are not actually family units. As I mentioned in my earlier dissertation on culture, trolls do not reproduce in the way of most races. This means they have no family unit. What we see as a Troll clan, is actually more or less equitable with a political party. All the trolls within the same clan will have more or less the same ideals and ideas. As those ideals grow and change, trolls may join, leave, or even found, entirely new clans.

Within a clan, leadership is usually maintained by the one with greatest Might. Even within a clan, a challenge may be made if it is thought the leader is going the wrong way on