Total War: Age of Ether IC

[Gunther]

Turn One: 457 New Imperium
World Map

Sinrath
"Ah dinnae like it." The old Vanticras Battlemaster, Sir Ghumn Redfire, rumbled. Sitting in the back of the armored wagon, the Dwarf cradled his Ether rifle as he cast a wary look over the brim of the horse-drawn vehicle. Here, out in the wilderness, they had been forced to forge their own path, and a rather messy one at that. Clad in shiny steel plate armor, with an armored faceplate in the visage of a long-dead ancestor, the general of Vanticras was particularly sour on this venture. Barely sixty kilometers in, and they had already run across almost a regiment of Beastmen eager for their blood.

"I came in here with a hundred of me best men, an' enough powder an' shot to keep us goin' for a year under normal circumstances. Nae? We're down tae a thousand rounds an' twenty kegs of powder." He grumbled, "After tha', we'll be workin' with axes an' shields, and Beastmen ain't known for bein' wimps in a close fight. Smelly, but they ain't afraid of the kind of casualties we been throwin' at 'em."

The man across from him, dressed in a simple blue robe with gold filigree and a steel breastplate, would nod. His head was shaven bald with several tattoos on it, and the image of a gavel was painted on his breastplate. A Magus Council Judge. He looked ahead over the wagon's steel-plated siding, seemingly scanning the woods for any signs of additional hostiles.

"I concur." He said, "The situation has proven unfavorable, but our objective remains clear. We must eliminate the current aspirant for chieftain of the Beastmen tribes. Once eliminated, we will be able to withdraw and allow for aerial saturation of the area."

"Oh, aye, 'saturation'. We'll be haulin' ass to get outta these woods before yer lads start levelin' it, ye know that?" He asked with a grumble, checking his rifle for the umpteenth time, "Nae, what makes ye sure that we even are in tha right area? These Knights of Ether seem pretty damn certain, but I think their fancy armor's gettin' tae their heads! He could be plenty o' leagues away from-"

A long, continuous bellow interrupted the Dwarf's words. It was the bleating of a goat, the howling of wolves, the roars of bears, and more besides. It was the warcry of a massive group of the feral creatures. Around the wagon, the Knights of Ether could be seen reacting. Dressed in heavy steel armor bejeweled with fragments of Ether, and carrying heavy shields, the sword-wielding men locked their shields together as they readied their swords. Inside of the wagon, the Magus Council Judge was quick to fling himself over the lip of the wagon, landing with a reassuring thud amongst the Knights. The other Dwarves inside of the wagon were quick to take position, rifles jutting out from over the armored plates. All around them, hundreds of Beastmen could be seen surrounding their small four-wagon caravan. At their head, a massive, twelve-foot-tall goatman could be seen, carrying twin axes made from jagged pieces of Ether tied to sticks. His massively curled horns seemed to radiate authority and evil, as he stared at the Magus Council Judge.

"I... am Judge Pieter LeKar."

The Judge braced his footing, drawing his immaculate white gloves tight over his hands, feeling power flow through his veins. Around his waist, an Ether-studded belt flashed with bright blue light, radiating energy as he drew from it, "By decree of the Council, I have been mandated with the arrest of the aspirant Chieftain Bloodhorn. Resist, and I will be forced to unleash the full authority of my station. Comply, and you shall live."

There was no sound for a moment, before the howl began anew, the Chieftain charging forward towards the Judge before its allies followed suit. Pieter drew his hands inward, taking a deep breath as he focused the energies inside of himself, before pressing his hands outward and exhaling.

The ensuing geyser of flame stretched for fifty yards in a straight line, expanding into a cone as he drew his hands outwards until his arms were perpendicular to his legs. The massive cone of flame vanished, leaving only the remains of a score of dead Beastmen, their leader included. This did not abate their charge, but his goal was complete. Switching his stance, the Judge's feet swept out in a wide kick, causing a powerful gust of wind to rush forward. It proved itself a fatal razor wind as it ended up slicing several Beastmen, and a few trees, clean in half. The Dwarf sharpshooters opened fire as the Knights of Ether prepared for the incoming charge, bullets streaking through the oncoming horde at immense velocities, ripping limbs clean off and turning internal organs into fine mists of gore and viscera.

"By decree of the Magus Council, you are all sentenced to death!"

Happenings
The Age of Ether has begun in earnest.

The Magus Council, in cooperation with the Vanticras Dwarves, have completed a series of towers across the lands. These structures, supposedly under Magus Council protection, are Etherwave towers- magical broadcast arrays that allow instantaneous communication between the capitals and leaders of various countries. Their capacity is limited considering the vast distances traveled, but they are intended to help provide instantaneous communication between all nations when desired.

Beastmen Clans are suspected of having a number of aspirant Chieftains. The Knights of Ether, Magus Council, and Dwarven Kingdom of Vanticras are all cooperating in an effort to stomp out a potential future Beastmen incursion.

The Dragon King has been rumored to be entering a period of isolationism: Though whether this recent lack of raids is due to the potential threat of the Beastmen Clans and Ogre Tribes beginning incursions, or due to some devious machination, is unknown.

The Ogre Clans appear to be launching several incursions into the lands of the Sylphan Elves. The Elves are holding their own with an admirable combination of ambushes, nomadic migration, and daring raids, but the Ogres seem to be working to get their fill of Elf flesh for the coming seasons- remarkably, there seem to be reports of them even taking captives from the villages.

The Seaward Shogunate has announced an active interest in the reclaiming the Mare Dal Sarat from the Abyss-spawned Sho'rak Horde. Considering the viciousness known of the Abyssal race and their infestation on the islands of that area, they appear to be entering talks with the Salm Republic on the idea of an incursion to claim some of the outlying islands.

The Jotun of Ur appear to be busy constructing a fleet of naval ships, vessels of truly impressive size and armament. For what purpose is unsure, but they have begun greedily gobbling up whatever metals they can tear from their lands.

The Demethian Empire has, in a similar move, begun taking to the skies: Currently, they appear to be preoccupied with the construction of a number of large dirigible-style airships, massive floating platforms held aloft by reinforced gas bladders. Their exact role is unknown, but the sight of massive gas bladders being rapidly filled is hardly uncommon around their area, especially as their research and development continues on.

The Black Court also appears to be active, in a more subtle role: In the mountain valleys between Hurt and Khoulory, between the lands of the Pantheon's Theocratic Union, the Demethian Empire, and the Kingdom of Ghares, a large number of undead have been spotted, consisting of skeletons, Wights, Vampires, zombies, and other such undead- intelligent and otherwise. They appear to be moving through the area, though they have actively attacked several villages in the area and razed them to the ground. Reports indicate that a powerful necromancer by the name of Ghallal is leading this migrating force.

First Turn: Begins. End of Turn: Saturday, May 5th

[Grimsage Matt]

Deep in the Grimhold of Khazam-Ckor

The Great Hall of the Jarls was in a uproar, and several issues where being discusses/shouted about. The canablistic tendenices of the Ogres, the Short sightness of the Jutons, The Damnable undead spawning Black court, and the greatest outrage! Demons! Abyssal Breaches! The time has come, and the ages old purpose of the Deep Trolls is relevent once agian, to combat Magic gone bad.


To the Seaward Shogunate

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A letter arrives.
We hear you have a Demon Problem. We would like to help you get rid of your demon problem. All we ask for, is the chance to spill demon blood and, if you have any Tablets of the Names, that we could examine them. If you are intrested in our offer, here's the deaddrop location.

To the Pantheon's Theocratic Union, the Demethian Empire, and the Kingdom of Ghares

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A letter arrives.
We hear you have a Necromancer problem. We'd like to help. All we want is the Necromancer to be complety killed and pervented from rising as a a undead. And if you have any Tablets of the Names, we would like to examine them. If you are intrested in our offer, heres the Deaddrop location.

[WrathOfLife]

Orc's of the Fallen Tree

Comm to Gnomish Technocracy of Tarth, ESP D 4, Ether radio

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Hum.

HELLO? CAN LITTLE PEOPLE HEAR GRUNTISH? Dis broken. what? ok.

Little people! We of Fallen Tree wish for talks. You will talk with us. We make arrangements. Maybe not kill you. Maybe. Sound good? We come and talk in person. See you soon!

Comm to Jotun of Ur, ESP D 4, Ether radio

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HELLO?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN I DON'T HAVE TO YELL? THEY FAR AWAY!!

LISTEN TINY PEOPLE OF UR. WE DON'T KNOW MUCH OF YOU.

HOW ABOUT TRADES? YOU LIKE TRADES? WE GIVE YOU STUFF, YOU GIVE US STUFF. YOU GIVE US STUFF WE LIKE, WE GIVE YOU MORE STUFF, YOU GIVE US STUFF WE DON'T LIKE, WE BREAK YOUR SKULLS AND DRINK THE JUICES THAT FLOW OUT. FAIR?

[DMBlackhart]

A squat little man, no more then three-feet in height, and easily more round then the larger races, ran with much haste along the winding twisting tunnels of Tarth. For deep inside this mountain, near it's core, sat a lone figure. A mighty Gnomish king, or as their people had called their leaders, "Councilor Augustien! I bring word of the outside world."
And so begun the little gnomish runner's retelling of the events that have transpired in recent years. The "Councilor", as he was called, listened with mock interest. More occupied by the jingling of golden chains ad baubles on his shoes, or fussing with his gilded linens and robes. The over-dressed individual cared little for these formalities.

As all of the gnomish people knew well, titles and labels were pointless among their kind. A person in power, often stayed that way until they aged too far to be of use, or until they were eliminated. Assassination was not common however, as most Gnomish leaders had the same interest in mind.

Gold! All any Councilor has yet wanted for it's people are endless riches. And the way they achieved this is through incredible technological and magical advancements. So it was understandable how the aged Augustien would respond when he heard of the goings-on of the Demethian empire.
"Then you are dismissed little runner. Return to the forges immediately, tell the laborers that we have work to do. No overtime and no rations until I see progress. If our enemies have taken to the skies then so shall we! We shall better their innovation and claim it for the Inglorious Gnomish Technocracy!"

Communications to the "Orc's of the Fallen Tree" (Defensive ESP = 4)

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On screen you see a quaint fellow, no larger then perhaps your smallest youngling, and easily twice as round, perhaps with a gut larger then your own. The stubby fingers and legs would belittle the ingeniousness of these technological masters.

"Hmm, and what in the name of the good Council are you? I have yet seen something so repulsive. Alas, if it is talks you want, you shall have it. We shall meet at the edge of the river of Dunkelfurt. There you may speak your piece."

Missive to the Demethian Empire (Defensive ESP = 4)

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The Gnomish Councilor, Augustien, appears on screen with an expression to show clear annoyance. "You of the Gnomish Technocracy of Tarth deman you reveal to us your means of achieving flight. Do not fear however, that this is a threat. If you are not to adhere to our wants, then you shall be utterly obliterated. There will be no further discussions on the matter. Thank you and have a nice day."

[WrathOfLife]

Orc's of the Fallen Tree

From the north poured the Orcs. Running on foot, in heavy but crudely made armor. Their steps shook the very earth, their cries as they ran sent man and beast fleeing before them alike. The small force of 500 Orcs, an Orcish fist, stampeded its way towards its intended target.

Gnomes.

Face to face meeting with the Gnomish Technocracy of Tarth, PM defense!.

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A large hulking green form stands before the gnomish representatives. Dress in thick but poorly made armor, he snarls as he looks back and forth at the little men in front of him.

"I is Black Fist. See?" He shoves his blackened fist forward for examination. "See this?" He taps his heavily armored chest. "and Dis?" He slams his axe in the table. "Poorly made. No Bangs. Can't throw high enough to hit air-cowards." Black Fist leans in close to the Gnomes "How you going to fix this?"

[DMBlackhart]

Standing before the Orc Chieftan "Blackfist" was a plump little man in shiny and flamboyant dress. The Gnome stood maybe four-feet on his tippy-toes, and had a conical hat that made him nearly five-feet! The constant jingling and jangling of the numerous bobbles and trinkets around his person was annoying, if nothing else. The man clearly showed his pride as being Councilor of the Gnomish-Technocracy, despite the ugly brute before him.

Meeting with the Orcs of the Fallen Tree.

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"Ah but I knew what you would ask of me well before our meeting was arranged. Your men are... lacking in many things, intelligence for certain, my people have the ingenuity and resources to see these problems of yours fixed. with a gleam in the nasty little gnome's eye, he made his proposal clear. "We want orcs! Simple as that. We will provide with you an armory worthy of the true ferocity and might of the Orcish people. Axes of fire and Armor made of the strongest metals. We shall design for you great canons with which to soar into orbit, and strike your foe's down from the sky. All this and more will be yours my brother Black-fist. All I ask in return is a few of your men. Return with us to the Mountains of Tarth, provide your services in defending my people in case of a siege, and your weapons will be made. Are we agreed?"

[Halyat]

[OOC: I don't see colors very well, who are the groups to the north and southwest of Preta Janaru?]

[WrathOfLife]

[OOC: I don't see colors very well, who are the groups to the north and southwest of Preta Janaru?]

OOC: Looks like Melvaunian kingdom and Demethian Empire

Orc's of the Fallen Tree

To gnomes. PM defense

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"We accept. We send Orcs who know how to beat words into stones with list of what we wants."

With a roar Blackfist storms out of the meeting ground returning to the Orc's forest strong hold. The forest was not silent long. Soon heavy drums and the feet of a vast unrelenting hoard can be heard from miles away. The Orc's were on the move and heaven help any who get in their way.

[Zweanslord]

The Kingdom of Ghares

Ludir, the Capital of Ghares and home to the King's Palace. From here, His Royal Highness, The King Richard Pegasus oversees the lands and extends his benevolent rule. Seated in his throne, this middle aged man, is pondering recent matters. Getting up and walking through the palace with several court members in tow, he lets his thoughts go. Eventually finding himself in front of a window, he faces northnortheast and sees a forest in the distance beyond the Ludir city walls, and beyond that, hills and mountains. Amidst them, he knows, are peaks belonging even to the mountain reaches further away, Hurt and Khoulory.

Letting out a sigh, he continues along the stone hallways, until he hears the voice that has held him company throughout the years and has always been supportive. With a smile he listens to his wife, Her Royal Highess, The Queen Leona Pegasus. "What troubles you, my love?" She asks with interest. He knows she already has heard about his latest visitor, as she always has, but he is happy that she lets him tell about it nontheless. "A diplomat from Aschat came with further details about the necromancer attacks in the mountains." She gave a nod, she had heard the news about it before. "It is a troubling turn of events." He continued. "What vexes me most is that the motive is as of yet unclear. Is this a power hungry wizard, a plot by the Black Council or a madman?" A sigh escaped him. She looked at him and gave a soft smile. "We will find out." She said with determination. He nodded and loved her confidence.

"Anyway, on to more pleasant matters. Any news about our eldest?" This question from the King sparked a smile from the Queen as they walked through the hallways and on to a balcony, enjoying the sigh over the Palace Gardens. "They grow up so fast. He has been training his men in the hills for a week now and is on his way back. They say that he even managed to best his trainer again as example to the men." Richard Pegasus let out a short laugh. "Ah, just like his old man."

Messages. ESP-D: 9

Message to the Deep Trolls

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A Royal Letter makes its way back to the Deaddrop location, delivered to any Deep Trolls in the vicinity. It is written in a fanciful writing style on sturdy paper in a sturdy envelop, sealed with red wax, showing the Royal Ghares Insignia.

Greetings Representative of the Deep Trolls,

The news of the Necromancer's activities has become known to us and it is obvious that our nations agree that this is a threat that must be eliminated. We will not stand idly by and this menace will not go unchecked.

However, we strongly believe that there can be no cooperation between our nations. Magic can lead to good and to bad, but is a part of our world. A race which magic does not even dare touch and which hides deep beneath the surface of the world is not part of it and we will have nothing to do with such kind. Therefore, we are not interested in your offer for help.

Regards,
The King of Ghares
His Highness Richard Pegasus

(OOC: I assumed there was some indication it was from the Deep Trolls. Also, hope you don't mind, but since you chose to have a reputation of 1, I feel that it is worthwhile to incorporate it in the interaction. A relatively polite message was sent back, but realise the Ghares populace generally considers Deep Trolls not too different from undead and demons.)

Message to the nearest Magus Council office

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An Ghares Diplomat arrives at a Magus Council Office and requests to speak with one of the Magus officials.

"Greetings, I am Gradius Demarchy, a representative of the Ghares Kingdom. I come on behalf of His Royal Highness, the King. As you may be well aware, there are reports of a necromancer with ties to the Black Court causing harm in the mountainous regions north-east of the Kingdom by raising foul undead and razing villages. It is our express wish to protect the populace and vanquish the menace. As we understood, the Magus Council shares the same view, and we hope a joint venture to get rid of this menace is possible between our powers, as well as other national powers. A message has been sent out to the Pantheon's Theocratic Union and the Demethian Empire as well."

Message to the Pantheon's Theocratic Union and the Demethian Empire

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A message to the higher ups of the nation arrives.

"On behalf of the Kingdom of Ghares, this message is brought to you. Reports indicate that a Necromancer is raising an undead army in the mountains between Hurt and Khoulroy, using it to raze villages. The populace is in danger and said danger only grows. The Kingdom of Ghares considers it its responsibility to tackle the problem and is hoping that you are willing to join in a joint venture to remove this threat from the lands in our shared vicinity.

This message has been sent to a Magus Council Office, the pantheon's Theocratic Union and the Demethian Empire and it is our hope that our nations can cooperate in this matter of international importance. A diplomat is on its way to discuss the matter further. We hope that you will allow entrance to this diplomat and aid us in this joint venture."

[Grimsage Matt]

The Deep Trolls To The Kingdom of Ghares

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As your letter carrier leaves, a scroll case seems to emerge from a tree. When you knock on the tree, it gives a mettalic ding, and seems to be hollow.

We realize that you know little about us, and most would consider us monsters. However, few know our history and our dwelling in the depths is our pennance. As for magic not touching us, for every action there is a equal and opposite reaction. As Ether is simply magic that condensed into phyical form, our kind is the opposite end of the scales. And as for why you might fear or distrust us for our antimagical nature, we've always felt sorry for you, for you only hear the echo, not the orginal song. We will take action aginst the necromancer, we only sent the letter to let you know.

[Gunther]

Seaward Shogunate (ESP-D 5) to the Deep Trolls

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The response is rather simple and straightforward, having been crafted on a piece of seemingly ordinary paper, though slightly moldy with exposure to salty air and dampness.

Whilst we of the Shogunate do not know of any Tablets of the Names of which you speak, we are currently preparing for an incursion against the thrice-damned abominations of the Sho'rak Horde. Their existence offends the spirits of our ancestors, and their residency on perfectly good land is in poor taste to the current Shogun. As such, an incursion is being planned to help remove of them. For now, we are building our forces, but if you wish to assist then such is acceptable.

The Demethian Empire (ESP-D 6) to the Deep Trolls

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The response communique is rather straightforward, having been printed on rather finely made paper:

To the mighty Jarls of the Deep Trolls,

We are writing this missive in the interest that Ghallal, a former Demethian warmage since discredited for his involvement with the Black Court, be eliminated. However, with recent concerns from our Gnomish neighbors, we are unable to commit any resources to his removal in lieu to dedicating resources to our defense.

Jotun of Ur to Orc's of the Fallen Tree

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The voice of the Jotun, the giant, on the other end of the Etherwave transmission is heavy like oak, but booming loud and clear.

"MOST AGREEABLE!" He announced, "Trade shall be very good between us. We build more ships to sail upon, and you shall have what we so easily harvest from our mountains! Consider it done."

Demethian Empire to the Gnomish Technocracy of Tarth

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General Octavian of the Demethian Empire would send his reply rather clearly, the man-- dressed in bright red plate armor with a peacock-plumed helmet--giving a rather solid response to the Gnomes,

"We shall not accept intimidation from an outside power. If you wish to cooperate with us in the development of more advanced airship technology, then we may stand a chance of cooperation, but threats shall earn you no allies in the international courts!" The Demethian replied, "Our military may not be massive, but we hold these lands proudly and firmly, and our agents stand ready to disable any ships that come near our territories! Peace is a preferable option to war, however, should you desire cooperation rather than senseless death."

Halyat

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OOC: To the southwest are the Badland Khans. To the north are the Meluvian Kingdoms. Hope this helps!

Magus Council to the Kingdom of Ghares

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The Magus Council's primary facility, a large enclave a few miles east of the outer borders of the kingdom in Urdatha, was awash in activity. It was one of the nerve clusters of the region, located right in the middle of the city of Katum. A massive Etherwave tower was situated right in the middle of it, the six-kiloton chunk of fused Ether constantly pulsating as it received, relayed, scrambled, and unscrambled a myriad of messages. A pair of airships flying Magus Council colors, yet clearly plated in Vanticras-mined mithril, hovered overhead. On the ground, a number of soldiers dressed in bright blue armor with gold trim marched this way and that, drilling with a myriad of weapons and technologies. A small shipyard could be seen in one corner of the compound, a third airship seemingly in the midst of being built, massive piles of Ether having been stockpiled around it.

The Magus Council's highest commander of the area, the Regionar of the Southwest Quadrant, would greet the Ghares envoy. A lumbering giant of a man, his nature was obvious right from the start. An Ogre. A massive, very intelligent-looking Ogre, like something out of the lands of monsters and Beastmen. An Ogre that would have met the Ghares envoy in the Council's central war room. A number of illusory displays could be seen: Representations of various nations, estimates of their capabilities, positioning and movement vectors of various forces and contingents. A lot of forces in the region seemed concentrated around the areas to the southwest- towards the Sho'rek Hordes.

"Greetings." The Ogre would say in relatively fluent Common, "I am Regionar Thullock. A pleasure to meet you." He'd say, perhaps a bit gruffly, "The Black Court's operations are well known to us- as is their agent." He remarked, giving an idle gesture to the table. The illusion shifted slightly, focusing on the mountain range where Ghallal and his forces had accumulated.

"Had I the resources and numbers, I would have dealt with his ilk myself." The Ogre rumbled ruinously, "A strike force of mage slayers aimed at the sorcerer himself, with a regiment of heavy infantry and a cadre of Theurges." He grumbled, folding his massive arms together, "As it stands, I've had to deploy everything but our garrison forces to keep the Sho'rak in check." He remarked, "We can't pierce their island, wrapped up in so many theaters as we are, but we're keeping constant patrol along the outskirts. Wiping out anything that tries to pierce our defensive grid." He remarked, before looking to the Ghares representative, "If you want my help, I can't afford to pull my garrison forces out and leave the Council bases exposed. If you can provide some means of helping alleviate the strain on resources... Anything, really. Intelligence personnel, raw resources, manpower, mages..." He nodded, coming to a decision, "I can match whatever you offer in either specialized intelligence assets, raw military assets, or mages. The Council members themselves are divided in either running matters of importance or dealing with the Beastmen themselves. If you can move enough resources and donate enough... One of them may even be persuaded to join up."

He paused for a second before licking his lips, "Or... You could take out a favor, to be later repaid." He commented hesitantly, "Something on the scale of joining a military endeavor, helping research a technology... Providing Ether..." He said with extreme delicacy, for an Ogre at least, "The options are all yours."

Demethian Empire to Kingdom of Ghares

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The response from the Demethians was rather straightforward, the Demethian Commodore at Simeringer broadcasting his reply from behind the fortified stone walls of the city. Massive steel gates had been drawn shut, and the entire city looked like it was in lockdown.

"Due to the possibility of assault from the Gnomes to the north, the Demethian Empire shall be stuck in efforts of fortification and securing its territory! Should the Necromancer seek to test his undead against Demethian architecture, then we shall slaughter his forces by the thousands!" He remarked proudly, "As our ships purge him from above! If you can dissuade the Gnomes from attacking us, however... We may see fit to deploy a number of our elite tactical forces to disposing of this nuisance."

[DMBlackhart]

Missive to "His Royal Highness The King Richard Pegasus of the Kingdom of Ghares"

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A squat and rotund figure appears before your court with no more then two armed guards to defend himself. The figures before you are small, only slightly taller then your children, and easily three times as fat. Each is adorned with the gaudiest of bobbles and trinkets. Their linens and finery are seemingly worth more then your entire thrown room.

Then the leading Gnome speaks.

"I am Councilor Augustien of the Gnomish Technocracy of Tarth. I bring tidings to my distant neighbors, in hopes that a profitable exchange can be met. Know that always are the Gnomish kin loyal to your people, and will happily lay our lives down for you.
The gnome's eyes shift curiously.
A most interesting proposition has arisen that I believe your majesty may be interested in learning. It seems the people of Demethian have stolen from me technology. They have liberated it from our very workshops and forges within Tarth. While I do not blame any but myself for this slight, I am hellbent to right this injustice. If you have any sensibility of right and wrong, then you will understand my plight.

In six months time I will begin a siege on their people. I have... obtained... some orcish soldiers, by means that I do not believe them so fond of. These men will be the shock troops in my invasion, and hopefully the most damaging force. I intend to send steam golem and siege-canon a plenty to destroy their defenses. What I lack however, are capable soldiers. My own people, we are short in stature and lack in muscle. But we have intelligence, and ingenuity. We can provide your people with technological wonders you could only dream of. Armor of the heaviest and densest metals, but lighter then feathers. Canons run by steam and coal to burn holes through the flimsy brick and morter of castle walls.
Augustien bows low, his conical hat nearly falling off, a myriad of bells and bobbles jingle and jangle as he does so.
I ask only this your majesty, as one leader to another, that you provide us with ample capable warriors to seize the demethien throne once their defenses have fallen. If all goes as planned, I will even share the riches of the kingdom with you 90/10. I simply wish to recover my stolen technologies.

Missive to the Deep Trolls

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A small, plump figure appears before your trolls. Communicating via the instant transmutations that the council has graciously provided.
On screen is a fat, cherub-like figure, however his complexion is gross, almost as bad as your own. The "Gnome" wore a conical hat, and a mess of jingling chiming bells and bobbles. It looked decked out in more finery then an entire throne room. The gnome spoke in a melodic voice.
*ahem* Hello good under-dwellers. We bring tithings not of war, but of peace. And in fact prosperity. We can provide for you anything you could desire. Meats! Slaves! Riches! Technologies! Magics! Anything and everything. All we ask is one little favor in return. Our mountain home of Tarth has become barren in the present years. And we request a paltry brigand of Trolls to reinforce them. We will forever indebt ourselves to you, and provide you with endless, free services, for a small guard of your own men to defend our technological secrets.

(wanting to trade all technologies now, and forever, for 1 Military, permanantly)

Reply to the Demethian Empire

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"So be it. Be be warned you hearty fool. There is no word for mercy in the gnomish tongue. You have done a terrible misdeed to our people, you have flaunted a marvel beyond even our own capacity to engineer, and you dare to withhold it from us. I offer no more warnings. Within the coming years there will be blood shed between our countries. I only pray you find yourselves more prepared then we are.

ESP-Defense: 4

[Madhand]

Mercantilis Imperia

The Imperilous Magus Competition

Word traveled fast throughout the Imperia's Collegium, the Platinum Council had issued an open contest for all worthwhile magi, with the winner or winners gaining a lucrative government contract and rumors have speculated that a great deal of Ether will be involved. The object of this contest? Weather!

Whoever could formulate the greatest of weather controlling spells would gain access to great fortune and fame! Naturally the former is deemed more important for those in the Imperia. Unfortunately this will have the side effect of halting most other magical projects as all attempt to become Kings and Queens of Climate!

Other Business

While the magical part of the Imperia was preoccupied with doing something about the weather, the more mundane (though equally important) parts were hard at work doing what they always do, making money! To this end a large number of messages were sent out to factions all centered around trade!

ESPD- 3

The Knights of Ether, Magus Council, and Dwarf Kingdom of Vanticras

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Salutations, it has come to our attention that you seek to stymie the advancement of the Beastmen Tribes. Given how numerous they are this could take quite a deal of supplies, cash, and time. While we are far away from this threat we believe in trading with nations and groups both near and far, if you are interested in doing business please let us know.

Dragon King

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While you seem to be withdrawing from the world, a total cutoff would seem a terrible waste. While we will respect your wishes if you decline, we do wish to offer trade if such is palatable.

The Ogres

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We hear you like smashing elves, we might be able to trade you some things that will help you smash more elves, let us know!

Sylphan Elves

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You seem to be having a problem with Ogres, we might be able to help you with that one way or another, please let us know if this interests you!

Seaward Shogunate

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You have expressed interest in fighting the demonspawn and regaining some of your lost lands, we are eager to trade you goods that might aid in this endeavor!

Jotun of Ur

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You seem to desire a great deal of metal, we may be able to provide you with some, for the proper measure of compensation.

Dementhian Empire

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The creation of more flying machines is quite desirable as it increases the capability for trade, in this light we would consider trading construction materials to you at perhaps a somewhat reduced price.

Ghallal

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You seem busy pillaging the countryside with your undead horde, while such an army doesn't have much need for normal supplies we can't help but wonder if certain necromantic spell components wouldn't be of interest to you, while necromancy is not banned in our kingdom it is not considered as...useful as other disciplines and so there is less need for such materials here.

Deep Trolls

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While others might shun or despise you it is the policy of the Mercantilis Imperia to trade with all, as such we wish to enter a mutually beneficial trade relationship with you, we are especially interested in Ether and technology as the few Trolls we have in the Imperia seem to indicate you are rich in both.

Melvaunian Kingdoms

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Fellow traders it has come to our attention that you have a small amount of Ether for which you have very little use as such we seek to know what you would consider a fair and equitable trade for it.

Orcs of the Fallen Tree

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We hear you like axes, we hear you hate magic, give us Ether and we give you many axes! Good?

The Kingdom of Ghares

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Greetings, we send you this message in hopes of securing trade with your kingdom, of particular interest to us are your Ether deposits, you thoughts?

[WrathOfLife]

Orc's of the Fallen Tree


Message to Mercantilis Imperia, Ether radio, ESP D 4

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"IT IS AGREED PUNY HUMAN! YOU SEND (3 ECON worth) OF WEAPONS BY WATER HORSES TO OUR LANDS AND YOU MAY HAVE STUPID SHININESS. YOU MUST DEAL WITH US ON SHORE OF BEACH. WE NO GO TO YOU, AND YOU NOT COME IN LAND. OR WE BREAK YOUR SKULLS AND DRINK THE JUICES! K FAIR?

Message to Jotun of Ur, Ether Radio, ESP D 4

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"WHY YOU WISH TO TRAVEL OVER WATER? WE NO UNDERSTAND. WE SEND ORC TO TALK IN PERSON. THINK RADIO BROKEN.

Message to Beastman Clans, Ether Radio, ESP D 4

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"HELLO BEAST PEOPLES. WHAT DO YOU WANT? WE WANT THINGS TOO. MAYBE WE TALK ABOUT THINGS WE WANT SEE WHAT WE DO?"

[Grimsage Matt]

To the Mercantilis Imperia

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We have most of what we need down here, and our pennance puts strict limits on when we can head to the surface. And we ask, what would you do with our technology? Would it be used productivly, or only to chase after yet more empty wealth? We would be willing to trade some of our technology, and our needs are simple. We'll also need some time to think this over, and as we say down here, "Think of tomorrow, you'll still be around, so make sure you don't spend all you have today."

to the Gnomish Technocracy of Tarth

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We will think on it, but there are several factors aginst this. Our Pennance forbids us going to the surface unless it's to combat Demons, demonspawn or dark magic. We have also heard what happens to those who practice artifice that make a breakthrough before you. And we'll need all our forces to combat the recent Necromancer and Demon incursions.

To the Seaward Shogunate

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Very well, just let us know when you plan to strike. In the meantime, there's a Dark Necromancer that also needs to be delt with. As for Tablet of the Names, they appear as no more then simple stone tablets, with words in a language that defys magical translation.

To the Demethian Empire

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Very well, we'll be moving aginst the Necromancer. Also, Arrogant little things those gnomes, arn't they?

[Zweanslord]

The Kingdom of Ghares

To join the Mercantilis Imperia's Imperilous Magus Competition

"Must I, My Liege?" Evenar Mistlemoor asked, his tone already betraying that he knew the answer. The Duke of Hesat, William Rurmand, was his conversation partner and he gave a nod with a smile on his face. "Indeed, my loyal Court Magician!"

"But My Liege, the Festival of Wisp's Eve is but a week away. You know my role-" Evenar tried one last time, but his face already betrayed defeat. Duke Rurmand waved the attempt away and with a confident voice he stated: "You can be missed for one year, Evenar. I know that your spells usually lift the spirits of the people, but the prestige gained from participating The Imperilous Magus Competition at the Mercantilis Imperia will inspire the people here." After a short pause, Duke Rurmand interrupted Evenar Mistlemoor before he started. "Yes, I know you are going to say they have far better skill. That will not change my mind, however. I do not expect you to win this competition, I expect you to join it. How you go about it then, is up to you, ofcourse."

Evenar let out a sigh, but then nodded. He saw the grin on Duke Rurmand's face, one he knew, and it inspired a smile on his own face. "A feast?" Evenar tried and the Duke gave him a nod. "Upon your return, a feast. Then you can tell us your story and share it with our folk." The grin on the Duke's face grew, as he knew that Evenar would not try out any more excuses. Evenar knew full well when the Duke would not budge, and he knew that Evenar would enjoy the opportunity to tell his tale. While Evenar looked up against missing out on the Festival of Wisp's Eve, he knew that the opportunity offered was a great one. To see other lands, to make such a long journey, as a Court Magician even! The Dukes usually kept their Magicians close, because they needed their advice, even if their skill was but a speck compared to the Mages in other countries.

That was perhaps what bothered Evenar the most. Compared to the Mages in the Mercantalis Imperia, he had but the skill of one of their apprentices. Yet, at least he had a step up compared to some of the other Court Magicians, as he at least knew the field which this competition was centered around. Ofcourse, he could not summon storms, but he had some mundane knowledge about weather patterns, could predict the weather, and one of his tricks was to summon forth small clouds above another's head, usually enough to make the children laugh.

He knew that he could never be a feasible competitor on his own. On the journey to the Mercantilis Imperia, fittingly as a passenger on one of their trading ships that frequented the Kingdom of Ghares often, accompanied by several companions, he thought about what way to take. He would need to team up with one of the existing competitors and lend his skills. And while his magical skills might seem meagre compared to theirs, he had the luxury of being able to draw from another skill set as well. Serving as a Magician in the Duke's Court, he had learned to be attentive, how to best give advice and how to deal with organisational and diplomatic matters. While the Mages of the Mercantilis Imperia were more likely to be involved in other trade or deeply involved in magical research, they were likely to lack such skills.

Especially since Evenar had heard that where people did not trust the Mercantilis Imperia and their merchants due to their neutrality and shrewdness in trade, despite their ongoing trades, a similar mindset existed in parts of their society between one another. And it was there that Evenar could shine, as he could try to get in favour with a promising group that could use his organisational skills.

Dressed in a sky blue robe marked with white ornamental lines, Evenar Mistlemoor is a middle aged man, still unmarried, but has a teenager apprentice and aide at his side. Joined on his journey by a diplomat to represent the Kingdom, as well as a number of guards, selected on one hand to protect the Court Magician, but on the other also selected for their intelligence or skills to help him on his task.

Messages. ESP-D: 9

Mercantilis Imperia

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(OOC: As you can see above, Evenar Mistlemoor, Court Magician of the Duke of Hesat, is heading to the Mecantilis Imperia for the Imperilous Magus Competition to try and throw his skills and that of his companions in with one of the teams.)

In his journey to the Mercantilis Imperia, Evenar Mistlemoor's companion the Diplomat also brings the message that the Kingdom of Ghares is always positively aligned towards furthering trade with the Mercantilis Imperia. Unfortunately, due to the severely limited stocks of Ether the Kingdom has, those are not up for trade.

(OOC: So far I have gone out from the assumption that between the Mercantilis Imperia and the Kingdom of Ghares there are already several trade routes, with some of the Mercantilis Imperia's trade routes going through the Kingdom as well to regions beyond. The Kingdom of Ghares imports goods from or through the merchants of the Mercantilis Imperia and looking at the big picture, the Kingdom would probably be importing more from than exporting to the Mercantilis Imperia. I base this on your high Economy and mercantile background. So trade already exists between the Kingdom and the Mercantilis Imperia. Please tell me if you are okay and supporting of this assumption.

Also, I only have 2 Ether, I don't think I will trade them that easily, heh. :P)

The Demethian Empire

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The messenger group, seated on their horses, look up at the mighty steel gates of the city while they hear the booming response. Suitably impressed, it takes a moment before one of them leads his horse closer to shout the response once more. "Bold Demethian words that demand respect! The Kingdom of Ghares wishes you luck if it may come to such a grave future if one were to face such an undead horde, but we hope it can be prevented."

A moment of silence as the messenger catches his breath to shout the next, as he refuses to see how much he was outdone just now by the message broadcast by the Commodore. "The news about the Gnomes is unsettling! May the odds fall as they may if it really comes to such an event. Our group will return to the Diplomat on his way over here to bring the news! What news must we bring of permission to enter the city?" A moment of catching breath interrupts the speech, though the messenger obviously still has something left to say. "Sir Gregory Dawnsong, the Ghares Diplomat, is the cousin of the noble Lady Catherina, married to the Honourable Demethian Lord Higfired Melsings, binding the blood of our nations together. If it is not a joint venture that Sir Dawnsong may discuss, may he at least visit his blood relation and her esteemed husband?"

Seaward Shogunate

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A letter is sent and delivered in person by a Ghares messenger. A sturdy envelope with a Hesat Insigna engraved in wax to seal the formal paper document within is handed over to give the message to a Seaward Shogunate official.

Greetings,

On behalf of the Ghares Kingdom, I, Nulan Doremoi, Diplomat in Service of the Duke of Hesat, William Rurmand, send you this message.

The Kingdom commends you on your intention to claim back the lands from the vile Sho'rak Horde, and our nation supports the endeavour in its full extend. We would like to support the cause by sending ships to aid the Seaward Shogunate enterprise and fight against the encroaching force of the abyss as long as the campaign lasts.
Our attention is also drawn to problems on the continent, amongst which is an undead menace inflicting harm, so we can not invest our full attention to the campaign, but we hope that our contribution will be accepted.

With regards,

Nulan Doremoi
Diplomat speaking on behalf of the Ghares Kingdom
and in service to the Duke of Hesat, William Rurmand.

The Gnomisch Technocracy

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Gathered in the throne room of Ludir's Palace is part of the King's Court, with several advisors and influential nobles of the Realm, showing their wealth, prestige and grace. They stand in stark contrast to the perverse gnomes in their midst, who carry around with him a preposterous amount of wealth. Their dress does not speak of fashion, of eloquence or beauty, but simply of wealth. Their fat bodies spoke of gluttony, their wealth of greed. Pride and envy was spoken by their words, wrath by their intentions.

Yet despite this display, the Court had seen it before, as the Kingdom had ties with the Gnomish Technocracy. It was through hard spent coin that the Kingdom had managed to purchase Gnomish weaponry far exceeding their own, and allowing them to equip their finest warriors with it. Not nearly enough for their entire military, it was sufficient to bring an even more lethal component to their forces. Even now coin from their coffers flowed to that of the Technocracy for their supplies.

What shocked the Court was one thing Councilor Augustien said. It was not when they talked of a siege, nor theft of technology. The shock came when he spoke of having enlisted the aid of the orcs. A savage and violent race that any sane man would do best to avoid. Their strength was told of in stories that sowed fear in the hearts of man. Their brutality was known to have no bounds. What would the Technocracy do next? Forge an alliance with the Beastman?

His Royal Higness, The King, Richard Pegasus, rose up when the last word was spoken by Augustien. His face was but a mask, not betraying his inner emotions, only betraying that he had to restrain himself from showing them. He took a breath through his nose before he spoke.

"Councilor Augustien, we are sorry to hear your plight, and the theft of technology is certainly matter of great importance which we understand, make no mistake about that. We are honoured that you come to the Ghares Court and look at us for aid. The relation between our nations is a solid one, carved from steel and gold. Was the situation different, then I might have been able to agree to lend our aid right here.

But the situation you put is in is a difficult one to say the least. You ask us to aid you in an assault against a nation where we have ties of blood. Our nobility are bonded with the strength of a family. Anyone with any sense would be able to see the problem we stand before.

And yet, that is not the only problem. The words which you have spoken shock us deeply. You speak of a cooperation with the Savages of the Fallen Tree. I do not know how you managed to achieve such a feat, but from a nation with such intelligent leaders, I would have expected something smarter than putting one's hand in the fire. Such a cooperation will only bring misery, be forewarned. Their savagery knows no bounds and they are certainly not bound by loyalty to any not of their kind either. I can not ask of my people to stand in the vicinity of such beasts, you must see that.

What I and we all in turn see is the magnificence of the offer you bring. It is certainly an impressive offer, one that is not denied without deep thought, especially considering our ties. Yet, you know which problems I face. The offer is great, but I can not speak at this point whether we can accept or reject such offer and must think it over, because there is too much at stake. To the north is an undead menace, threatening civilization around it. If that is gone unchecked, the thought needs not bare mentioning! We must send troops to rid us of the looming threat to our nations. Those are, unfortunately, troops we can not send to aid your cause, if we are to support it. And thus you can see the difficulty of my position.

However! Perhaps an alternative might be offered. You state that your wish is to recover technology that was stolen from you. To achieve such a thing, a full out war might not be needed at all. Would you be willing to let our men look into the matter and perhaps we might be able to come to a solution that does not involve such violence? After all, we are all civilized nations. Perhaps the Demethian Empire is willing to hear us out and we can mean something to you in this matter. If your technology is returned to you, would that not be satisfactory in itself?"

The King finishes his speech with the question addressed to the Gnomish Councilor. His tone and actions during the speech were impressive, empathic and especially, charismatic.

The Magus Council
(OOC: Sorry, typed so much and it is getting too late.. will reply tomorrow.)

[Grimsage Matt]

The Vault of Names

"Scribe Volx'zasd, as you are doubtless aware, the Mercantilis Imperia is holding a conest of magic. More to the point, weather magic. As you are one of the few speakers that has enough self control to not accidently kill everyone around you as you speak, you'll be going. Now, there are a few reasons for this. While we know that we cannot win this contest, we suspect that the Black court may have agents there. Keep a eye out for them. Also, we need to get along better with some of the other nations, so if you could help them? Evenar Mistlemoor seems like he would be the best, attuned enough to the world to be able to see a part of the whole, but still blinded slightly by the glare. Well, have a good trip."

The Mercantilis Imperia & the Kingdom of Ghares

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Boarding the same ship that Evenar Mistlemoor's on, a Troll, his features closer to a large man, with skin the texture of Granite, and eyes of maga, hair like metal, A deep Troll. As soon as he steps on board, magic seems to be slightly harder to reach, but also... Clearer, as if it was just brought just a slight bit more into focus. He head Towards Evenar, and bows. "Kro Mistlemoor. I am Scribe Volx'zasd, a rune scribe of the third series. My master, The Deepspeaker, asked that I be of aid to you." As he speaks, his words just echo a tiny fraction, not with magic or psionics, but something else, something older...

[oblivion6]

melvaunian kingdoms

king blaine of the melvaunian kingdoms was sitting through another boring council meeting. what is going on in the other regions of the continent? he asks the seated council members. well, quite a bit actually. the beastmen are acting up again, and so are the ogres. a necromancer has been calling up the dead hordes, and have razed several villages already. the jotun of ur is constructing a massive fleet of airships for unknown reasons and the seaward shogun is planning a campaign against the hell spawn lelei, the head of the kingdoms very small intelligence network replies. hmm... interesting happenings. how are our merchants doing? this time the kings question is answered by a small balding old man who had served him faithfully for 20 years. excellent my lord. profits are up 20 percent since last year. we have also recieved an offer for that ether we have laying around. the king pursed his lips thoughtfully i suppose its time to go send some messages he says finally

mercantillis imperia[++++]

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hmm. we might be willing to sell. howmuch would you be willing to pay?

[Zweanslord]

The Kingdom of Ghares

Messages. ESP-D 9.

The Magus Council

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Gradius Demarchy was more than impressed by the sights he could behold at the Magus Council facility. Once before he had seen the majesty of the massive Etherwave tower in the far distance, and how he could see it at a much closer range. Baffled by its proportions and the magical energies flowing around and being used in this location, he felt small and insignificant. The Kingdom of Ghares had no access to such magic at all and the Magus Council's display of their mastery of it was holding Gradius' breath ransom for a while, as well as that of his companions.

Their presence was a contrast to the others that walked around. Their dress, of good quality and sturdy, was a simple hint in this complex landscape. They showed simple and earnest colours, with little decoration. Those dressed in protective gear found themselves to be standing as if they were dressed in but mere clothes in comparison. Leather clothes, perhaps, with iron reinforcement and plates, but nothing compared to the bright blue armour enriched with gold that the guards wore here.

The technology and magic that surrounded them struck awe in their minds, as of the small group, many had not seen such a wealth of advancement before. This awe was intensified when they saw who came to great them. Not a mere man, but an ogre, an imposing figure of a representive, and one with an intelligent streak to it. Gradius looked at the illusion Regionar Thullock had pointed out, seeing the incredible use out of it compared to the parchment maps and wooden figurines used by the Kingdom.

All in all, the group felt tiny compared to what they had found themselves in. And their thought of it was twofolded. On the one hand, how could they even offer anything suitable for the Magus Council? On the other, they might feel small now, but their spirit and bravery was great. And they would not simply stand still!

These thoughts held Gradius Demarchy in his grasp as he tried to formulate an answer. Still visibly awed by his surroundings, something that none of the group had even thought about hiding, too impressed by what they saw, his thoughts moved slowly.

"Regionar Thullock. Let me start out by saying that this facility is without a doubt, the most impressive location I have seen in my entire live. My compliments to the greatness of what I behold. I hear of the burden you have to bear and understand how difficult it can be to dedicate further resources to this, especially with the Sho'rek's activities. It brightens my heart to hear that you are doing your best to keep them in check.

Ah, but I am trailing off a bit. As for the matter of the Necromancer." There was but a moment's hesitation before Gradius continued, because he had to consider his options once more. "It is not manpower that we lack. It is, however, specialised troops to deal with a mage of such power, as you possess. We do not have the mage slaying capability to enact the plan you just formulated you would follow: a strike group." For a moment, he hesitates to continue, but then he does, realising that it is of no use to withhold it. "To be honest, we fear that if we were to hold this campaign against them without sufficient backup, we might even see our own fallen being turned against us." There, he said it. It was no use hiding it, anyway.

"The Kingdom of Ghares has freed up a substantial part of their military for this campaign, as well as the supplies to field them. Perhaps we can lend our best for a strike group reinforced by your men, intent of taking out the primary source of this threat, while the remainder of the military available for this action is able to relief your forces elsewhere for a suitable time period in return?" Gradius suggested. His tone held a bit of uncertainty, as he was nervous. Not only was he deeply impressed by his surroundings, but he was now talking to an intelligent ogre. Such things had an effect on one's conversational skills.

The Deep Trolls and Mercantilis Imperia

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Evenar Mistlemoor was looking forward to what his destination would bring. Looking over the waters as they were in another dock, he suddenly noticed something disturbing. A strange feeling, tied into his magical capabilities. Not being able to place it, he turned to respond to whoever was now addressing him with that strange voice. Yet he would not get the chance.

Between Evenar and Scribe Volx'zasd two Ghares guards had hurried. Dressed in their leather armour reinforced with metal plates, the first, a middle aged man with brown hair and a short beard held a large sword with two hands in the direction of the Deep Troll, while the other, a man in his twenties with a scarf keeping his long and wild blonde hair out of his eyes held a sword and shield at the ready, putting the shield between Evenar and the Scribe. Yet as the Deep Troll could easily discern, the two might have been quick to stand ready in defence of the Court Magician, they did not do so without fear. It was a testament to their bravery as they stood there facing him, as beads of sweat had already started to drip from the middle aged man's face and the younger man's shield and sword were trembling.

"Hold! No step closer!" A demanding female voice shouted from several meters to the Troll's side. Dressed in the same armour as the two other man, she had auburn hair tied up into a pony tail and was looking straight at the Troll, holding a drawn bow and arrow aimed squarely at his head. Just like the two other man, she was afraid as well, but she had been trained well enough that her aim did not falter under it. Her steadfast behaviour marked her as the commander of the guards, with the duty to protect Evenar Mistlemoor. "I don't care what your master asked of you. Step away from our mage! NOW!" Pulling the bowstring a bit further, the female warrior was ready to shoot. The Ghares people were not known for their bluffs.

Meanwhile, Evenar had a perplexed look on his face, mingled in with fear of his own. In a sense, his fear was even deeper, as where the guards could rely on their combat skill, his skill was known to be meaningless against the Deep Trolls. And yet, he had heard the words Volx'zasd had said. He was sent to aid him? The reason alluded Evenar completely. Why would a Deep Troll be sent? Why him and why now? It seemed only logical it had to do with his destination, but considering it was a magical competition, what aid could a Deep Troll offer? Baffled by the suggestion, Evenar could not deny that it had sparked his curiosity. And yet, he could not act on it. Not now, anyway. Fear had caught a hold of his heart as well, and he knew that the female commander was much better in dealing with such a situation.

[Grimsage Matt]

To The Kingdom of Ghares (ESP-D 4)

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He bows to the Guard commander, and puts something down. It looks like a tablet, no larger then good sized book. "Of course. I ment no harm. It's my first time on the surface in a few hundred years, so please forgive me if I cause offence. As for the Tablet of Names, could you return it later? The Deepspeaker said that if you could understand it, you would find it intresting."
As before, his words seem to echo with that unkown presence. And he then heads down to his cabin. He pauses at the hatch and mutters something before heading down, and then a voice seems to echo in Evenar's ear, "If you would like to learn more about the tablet, you know where to find me." Intrestingly enough, it's Volx'zasd's voice... And no magic was used at all...

[Zweanslord]

The Kingdom of Ghares

Messages. ESP-D 9.

The Deep Trolls and Mercantilis Imperia

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Evenar Mistlemoor was surprised by the Troll's actions, but not least of all were the rest of those he travelled with. Ilona Vestlemyre, the female commander, lowered her bow only when the Deep Troll had left sight. Letting out a sigh of relief, her tense figure relaxed, as did that of the two man. "Why is a Troll on board of this vessel? Is the captain crazy?" The younger of them asked. "No. He is just more interested in coin." The older explains, to which Ilona gives a nod. Stepping closer, she looks at Evenar. "Are you alright?" He gave a nervous nod in response to that, glancing to the way the Troll had gone. He remembered the echo in his ear, his voice, and the lack of magic from it. The question that kept him occupied was: "How?"

Not voicing it, he turned to look at the book. "Be careful." Ilona said as the younger man stepped closer. Curiosity winning out now that Evenar no longer needed to look at Volx'zasd, he stepped forward to the tablet. "I will study it." He said, and the other three looked at him. Ilona gave a short nod. "Tell us what you learn of it. Matt, Ronduran, stick with Evenar. I don't trust that Troll at all. I'll go check with the others." With that said, she went off to spread the news under their fellow travel companions, warning each of them. That evening, in Evenar's cabin, his apprentice and the diplomat were present, while Matt, the young man, and Ilona, kept watch.

The Deep Trolls

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"Why would he do that?" Warren Borck asked as he sat in his chair watching the circular port window that evening. "They're crazy, I tell you. A few hundred years? He must be lying." But Evenar shrugged as he replied to the diplomat. "Maybe. But there's more to it, and you know it, Warren. Now, be quiet for a moment while I try to make sense of this.." And with that, he focused all his efforts to see what was up with this Tablet of Names, and see if he could make sense out of it, making use of his apprentice's aid where necessary.

(OOC: What is on the tablet?)

[Grimsage Matt]

Evenar Mistlemoor Examining a Tablet of Names

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The script on the Tablet is bizzare to say the least. It shows some similarites to Mage writing, but is suprising vastly more complex. And, out of the corner of your eye you think you see the script moving, becomeing like wind, yet when you look at it, it's the same as when he put it down. When you attempt to magicaly translate it, Evenar blanks out. What he sees is.... Impossible. A Deep Troll, in the middle of a raging storm. He seems to look at you, and your spine grows cold. Time itself seems to hide behind those eyes. Turning to face the storm, he says but one word. As you wake up, your almost sent flying out of your chair, by the sheer power from just a fragment of a DREAM of that word. And the power was defintly not magic. And, when you look at the Tablet agian, theres something diffrent. A part of it seems to resemble the sky now...

[Zweanslord]

The Kingdom of Ghares

Messages. ESP-D 9.

The Deep Trolls and Mercantilis Imperia

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"I will repeat it again. Slowly, and clearly." Ilona Vestlemyre said and then gave a loud: "No!" shouted to Evenar's face. "I don't care even if the Troll would win us this competition, you are not going to talk to him! I don't care how interesting that fancy tablet of his is. You are Hesat's Court Mage and it is my duty to protect you. I will not let you talk to him while we are still on this boat. When we get to shore in the lands of the Mercantalis Imperia, you will get the chance to return that tablet of his and talk. While we are there. In a place of our choosing. And that is end of discussion. No, no buts, ifs or whatever. Understood?"

When Ilona was done tirading against Evenar, who had only tried to say something in spite of the futility of it, he simply let out a sigh and nodded. "Yes, I understand. My apologies." Yet, Ilona's tirade was not entirely caused by his attempt to talk to the Troll. It was the strange situation they had found themselves in, with a Troll handing over a tablet, albeit only for temporary use. None of them had seen a Troll before, yet all had heard of them. She was on edge.

---

Eventually, the ship they were travelling on reached their destination: The Mercantilis Imperia. They got off the ship at the capital of the nation and would soon be off to find lodgings and start their work on the competition and trying to find another group to team up with. With that in sight, Warren Borck was excited, ready for the chance to see how the situation was in the Mercantilis Imperia. Evenar was anxious as well, though the matter of the Troll still pressed on his mind.

Ilona and Ronduran had met up with Volx'zasd briefly, to state they would return the tablet on land and that there would be a short opportunity to speak. Evenar Mistemoor was curious as to what would happen, but in the mean time, he would be busy with the purpose of their travels.

(OOC: Just wanting to bring this situation where any possible interaction with Madhand Mercantilis Imperia does not seem to be held up and can run in parallel, as I have not seen any response from that end on the arrival of Evenar Mistlemoor, and it is the goal of his group to team up with Mercantilis Imperia mages on the competition. And the days left in this turn are starting to run out.)

The Deep Trolls

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After their arrival, part of the Ghares ensemble would be present to meet up with Scribe Volx'zasd. Evenar Mistlemoor, Warren Borck, Ilona Vestlemyre, Matt and Ronduran were all present. Evenar's apprentice, as well as the remaining members of the ensemble, were at a local inn. It had been deemed that it was safer to not all show up, especially in the vicinity of a Troll.

The site was a small plaza, left relatively undisturbed. Evenar held the tablet and walked forward, and Ilona and Matt stuck close to him as he got closer, staying between him and the Troll. A meter or three away from the Troll, he placed the tablet on the ground and the three fell back again. This time, Ilona and Mett also retreated further, allowing Evenar to talk more face to face in the direction of the Troll, though the distance held was still at least six meters.

"Greetings, Scribe Volx'zasd. Here is your Tablet of Names back, as you requested. It.. is unlike anything else I have ever seen. What is it, if I may ask? And why are you here?" His stance was clear: he was now acting out of curiosity. He still feared the Troll, but his curiosity had out won that instinct. This was not really true for the others. Warren Borck was obviously sweating and trembling slightly, glad that Evenar had started talking. The guards were more at ease than before, because they were prepared. Their weapons were close by and with the slightest notion of threat coming from Volx'zasd, those weapons would be raised.

[Grimsage Matt]

The Deep Trolls (ESP-D 4)
To the Kingdom of Ghares

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"Thank you, Kro Mistlemoor. I hope you found it intresting. From what I know of the Tablet, it was spoken by Guul'shuak Stormspeaker quite some time ago, even by our standards." Leaning forword slightly, he picks up the tablet, and puts it back in the pocket of his robes. "As for what a Tablet of Names is, the awnser is both simple and complex. The physical makeup of the tablet is just that, a stone tablet. However, due to the writing and speaking of a word, it contains a memory and acts as a teaching aid. As for what its a aid for... It has always saddend my kind that you have forgotten the True Language. Forgive us for this opinion, but magic seems to be little compensation for not being able to talk directly to the world, and hearing it talk back to you." He looks both sad and wistful. "And as to why I'm here. Well, the Deepspeaker said that you had potential, and that I was to assist you if possible. I'm also here because of two less plesent matters. Because this will be affecting the weather, my masters want me to make sure that the resulting spells will not cause long term climate changes. Unintended results made because of a lack of understanding, it's a good idea to provide the understanding before they start. And because of it's scale and topic, we fear that the Black court will try and infiltrate the contest. I do not need to think I need to go on why the last is something we could do without."

[Zweanslord]

The Kingdom of Ghares

Messages. ESP-D 9.

The Deep Trolls

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"You do not." Evenar Mistlemoor agreed. "Still, this is a magical contest." He remarked. "And I have to admit I don't quite know what to make of this True Langauge.." For a moment, Evenar fell silent, but with a prod from Warren, he continued. "..but we have to focus on our task here as well. We'll be on the watch out, but well, you ruhm." He waved a bit nervously with his hands. "Your clash with magic.." He attempted for the moment "..and your reputation.." then looking at his companions "..very much so your reputation.. make it difficult to work together. To, ah.. say the least. I don't really see how you can assist.." Evenar did not really know how to deal with this strange situation, but what he said was true. Assistance from a Deep Troll? That would not really work..

[Ladorak]

The Conclave
ESP-D: 8

Jotun of Ur:

The Inner Circle dispatch Sho Rai to speak with the Jotun. Of all the Skullmen he possesses the highest number of kills. He is also possessed of impeachable manners however. It was for this duel mastery of diplomacy and mass murder for which he was selected for the task.

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My lord, we know you have already arranged contracts for metal with other nations. With respect you must undo this decision immediately, the Conclave has all you need. Only we possess Darksteel my lord, it is to steel as steel is to paper. Once forged it cannot be broken or bent. It is also lightweight. A hull plated with Darksteel will endure any conventional weaponry. Only powerful magic or the very highest examples of technology will give your fleet pause. All we ask, aside proper compensation, is your sworn word this fleet will never sail against us.

OOC: In addition to the deal the others are offering I'm willing to send 6 magic to the Jotun to attach the Darksteel in exchange for 4 econ

Mercantilis Imperia:
To the Imperilous Magus Competition the Inner Circle dispatches Avalonus Knox, a quiet, cold but undoubtedly brilliant weather wizard. His purpose, other than an object lesson in Conclave superiority, was to speak with the Imperia on other matters.

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I have been instructed to speak bluntly in this matter, so shall it be. We desire trade with the Imperia.

OOC: Suggust we both chip 2-4 econ into a trade pact.
Also for 4 econ I'll give you 6 magic to aid in your weather venture

Beastmen Clans:
To the Beastmen the Inner Circle dispatches the eldest and most feared of their number. His name is lost to history, he is simply called Sym. A lich of incredible age. Some among the Inner Circle suspect Sym may have been among those who fled the cataclysm, none would presume to ask however. With burning black embers where eyes should be and a grim rictus grin that spoke of much but said nothing (Sym had long ago dispensed with the need for the trivial act of vocalising) it was felt he would be best to negotiate with the Beastmen.

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There is word of a new champion among the beast folk. I would speak with him.

Salm Republic and Seaward Shogunate:
To the war council the Inner Circle dispatches Blake, a relative neophyte in need of worldly experience. He has only recently completed his training and has currently only retained his position because he is considered a threat by no one. He can however be trusted to speak the Circle's will.

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We understand that you are considering an attack on the abyssal horde, an action we cannot endorse enough. We believe we are able to provide intelligence, but would expect compensation.

The Knights of Ether, Magus Council, and Dwarven Kingdom of Vanticras: PM

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We understand you are seeking to stamp out any chance of further beastmen incursions. We believe we may be able to turn aside the horde. However we also feel we lack sufficient motivation. If this act were to be done, what would be done for the Conclave?

Sho'rak Horde: PM

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They are plotting against you. We can help you. But the thing about dealing with the devil is... One gets something out of it. If we were to inform you regarding... say, their invasion plans, how would you compensate us?

[Grimsage Matt]

To the Kingdom of Ghares

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"Very well then. But if I could offer this peice of advice? Instead of using magic to force the weather to do as you will, instead use it to convince the weather. Only reason why your magic is so draining is because you perfer force to simple persuaion." With that, he speaks a word, one that echos with power, one that none of you can understand, yet that resonates in the deepest parts of our souls. And just like that, he vanishes. Evenar has the slight feeling that both more and less time passed as the Deep Troll spoke the words. "We'll be in touch." Totaly nonmagical, this one comes from where the Deep Troll stood.... And this time, everyone could hear it.

To the Mercantilis Imperia

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We have noticed that your holding a weather magic comptition. We fear, that due to it's topic, that the Black court will try and infilltrate it. We've sent someone in to keep a eye put for them, as well as witness the contest. Forgive us for this caution, but we must ask if you know the side effects of weather magic to the natural enviroment?

[oblivion6]

melvaunian kingdoms
ESPD:+++

sylpha elves

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we hear the brutish ogres are giving you trouble. if your interested we can send a few regiments to help you out

[Zweanslord]

The Kingdom of Ghares

Messages. ESP-D 9.

The Deep Trolls

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"What!? I thought their kind couldn't do magic!" Matt shouts a loud after a deafening silence that lasted for a few minutes after the last thing they heard from the Troll. "It's.. I don't know what it is." Evenar admitted. "It doesn't feel like magic at all. But it's not something I can explain." And this caused his eye to twitch. It was aggravating. If it had been magic, at least he would understand that such an act was beyond his reach. If he saw signs of technology, at least he knew that it was in somebody else's field. But this? Unsettling.

And then Scribe Volx'zasd had tried to tell him how to use magic? This whole thing did not add up and Evenar started to wonder if Volx'zasd had really been a Deep Troll at all. In any case, his companions did not really know what to make of this situation either. So they did what they deemed best. Leave this place and focus on their task at hand, doubting and thinking about what they had seen.

The Mercantilis Imperia and the Deep Trolls

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During the stay of Evenar Mistlemoor and his companions, he had ordered one of them, Warren Borck, to be on the lookout for information regarding Deep Trolls. Warren was somewhat discreet about it, but he did not go to the efforts necessary to really keep it a secret. Instead, he tried to find out information amongst the other populace about what they knew about Deep Trolls and did not mind if people from the Mercantilis Imperia knew he asked. If they wanted to know why he asked, the answer was simple. A person claiming to be a Deep Troll had been present on their ship, and his presence had been peculiar, hence the attempt to find out more about their kin, if there had been any before who matched such a profile not entirely matching up with what they knew of Deep Trolls.

[Gunther]

The Knights of Ether, Magus Council, and Dwarf Kingdom of Vanticras to Mercantilis Imperia

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Trade should be excellent. Our respective traders will arrive soon to begin trade with your own.

The Dragon King to Mercantilis Imperia

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There is no reply via Etherwave- as though there is either no desire, or no capability to reply.

The Ogre Clans to Mercantilis Imperia

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There is no reply via Etherwave- as though there is either no desire, or no capability to reply.

Sylphan Elves to Mercantilis Imperia

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The reply from the Elves is a strained contact, but rather frank. Likely, a reflection of the scenario they were in,

"Any supplies you may have to offer would be greatly valued: If you have anything else you can offer, we're willing to take it, but we do not have much to offer in return whilst we fight this incursion from the Ogres."

Seaward Shogunate to Mercantilis Imperia

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The offer of trade is accepted.

Jotun of Ur to Mercantilis Imperia

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The offer of trade is accepted.

Demethian Empire to Mercantilis Imperia

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The offer of trade is accepted.

Ghallal to Mercantilis Imperia

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There is no reply via Etherwave- as though there is either no desire, or no capability to reply.

Beastman Clans to Orc's of the Fallen Tree

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The answer is a series of bleats and caws, before- at last- a cohesive voice shouts out all the rest,

"WE. WANT. MEAT. LIVING MEAT. PEOPLE MEAT. BLOOD!"

Seaward Shogunate to the Deep Trolls

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The response letter was straightforward:

The Grand Daimyo shall be leading our Shogun's forces, and the forces of those who have pledged support, in but a few months' time. We hope to press back the Sho'rak from the outlying islands, and force them back to the mainland, where we may eventually claim a great victory! The Necromancer Ghallal is of no concern to our great campaign.

Demethian Empire to the Deep Trolls

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"The Gnomes shall be dealt with soon enough: Their invasion shall break upon the walls of our fortress. Once their invasion has been routed, we will proceed to help deal with this Necromancer."

The Demethian Empire to the Kingdom of Ghares

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There's a brief bit of conversation before the reply is shouted down,

"Entry is permissible to those of the Kingdom of Ghares, provided no aggression transpires!" He remarks, before a secondary call is made to open the gates. The massive doors swing open for the envoys, who are promptly met by a handful of men in bright red armor wearing the heraldry of the Demethian Empire, each man wearing a belt of Ether around his waist- obviously mages. They come on foot, though obviously undeterred by the possibility of a horseback-verses-footsoldier battle.

"Greetings. You are more than welcome to bring word to your associates that any aid you may have to offer in either repelling or deterring the Gnomes and their ilk from attacking us would be appreciated. Their aggression towards us, and outright imperialistic tendencies, concern us greatly. Even now, we were preparing for fortify ourselves and make our defenses impregnable. With any luck, aid from outside sources can come to intervene before the Gnomes can gain any footholds of note."

Seaward Shogunate to the Kingdom of Ghares

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The response letter is quickly stamped from the office of the Shogun himself,

We thank you for your assistance in our grand campaign. We will be striking to overtake the outer islands first, and purging them of the vile Sho'rek. Once that is accomplished, we seek to solidify the outer islands as fortresses, and use them to launch raids upon the mainland.

The Magus Council to the Kingdom of Ghares

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The massive Ogre paused to think on this. He held a massive hand, easily one large enough to swat the head off Gradius's shoulders, up to cup his chin in thought. Down below, several flashing illusions came to life. Dancing images of airships and regiments and moving supply lines drifted across the illusory terrain. Angry red blobs of light showed where the Sho'rek were attempting breakouts, only to be quashed by the quick interception of airships and fortified sea vessels.

"Master Tsu-lin!" The Ogre eventually called out, the Regionar's voice booming throughout the theater. There was a brief silence before an elderly man, easily more akin to the appearance of a valet than an actual 'Master' of anything. He wore a simple bright blue vest with gold buttons, cleanly polished leather shoes, and striped white and gray pants. His hands were gloved, with two arcane symbols on them, stitched into the fabric: A symbol of a fire, and a symbol of wind. On the palm of each glove was the depiction of a rock and a a teardrop.

Thullock explained plainly, gesturing occasionally to the position Ghallal took up on the map, "Master Tsu-lin is a foreigner. One who found himself in these lands, as it were, for reasons that are unimportant. He has since come into the employ of the Council as a mercenary. One of several mercenaries, in fact, but the only one of the required talent tier-- a Tier Three Espionage Asset (+++)-- not currently deployed dealing with the Sho'rek or being tied up in our garrisons. As it is, Master Tsu-lin is the only asset besides myself fortifying this area in addition to our garrison troops." He remarked, "Please do ensure that he is used wisely in your assault. Ghallal's power as a member of the Black Court cannot be understated, but I feel competent that Master Tsu-lin-- with an appropriate attack strategy and accompanying allies-- can help give you the access needed to eliminate Ghallal."

The man nodded, his slightly slanted eyes beaming with happiness at the impending mission, "It shall be a great pleasure to be of assistance to yourselves!" He remarked, "The Shogunate was an interesting mission to undertake, but I have never had the pleasure of eliminating a member of the Black Court."

The Jotun of Ur to the Conclave

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The Jarl of the Jotun would, in all his immense glory, contemplate this. Standing at an impressive thirty feet tall, he would be seated in an equally impressive and massive throne, staring down at the Conclave representative.

"You would have us break our trade ties with other nations?" He inquired, squinting eyes at the Conclave representative, "A Jotun does not break his word easily! We will trade for your Darksteel, yes, but we require much more than what any one source can provide for our mighty fleet!"

Beastmen Clans to the Conclave

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Sym... would, to be a bit dreadfully punnish, sym-ply find himself in a rather nasty situation. Upon his arrival to the forests controlled by the Beastmen, and stating his request, he'd soon find himself subject to the curiosity of several massive creatures. Creatures whose girth and height were of such mutated and monstrous qualities that one might consider a lich an attractive thing in comparison. Bloated, distended bellies had tumors of raw Ether jutting out of them. Massive arms ending in chitin-coated claws and scythes seemed fit to carve through entire ranks of soldiers. Eventually, a simply massive Beastman would approach, standing over twelve feet tall with cloven feet. Its body was coated in black fur, and a massive nosering made of solid adamantine- engraved with angry runes of power- hung from its mutated face. Horns curled out from its forehead as angry white-grey eyes focused on the lich.

"You. Want. Talk?" It rasped out, a pair of battle axes hanging from his side each one glowing with an angry black energy to it. An abyssal energy. Clearly, the steel axes it wielded were not of normal origin.

Salm Republic and Seaward Shogunate to the Conclave

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Consider us interested in your proposition. What price would you name, and what degree of aid can you offer?

The Knights of Ether, Magus Council, and Dwarven Kingdom of Vanticras to the Conclave

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Grand Marshall Cross of the Knights of Ether would meet the Conclave representative. Escorted by a trio of men in steel plate armor, glowing with enchantments, the men would stand vigil as the Grand Marshall spoke, dressed in a fine tabard of white and red.

"What price would you try and barter from us, as we fight for stability for all nations from the Beastmen?" He asked testily, "You make it seem as though this fight is not for your survival as well as the survival of others. The Beastmen cannot be bartered against nor traded with. They desire only Ether to further their designs and more bodies with which to expand their horde. All the same, what do you propose?"

Sho'rak Horde to the Conclave

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From the Sho'rak, there is no reply. It is as though there is no desire, nor capability, to respond to whatever the Conclave offers them. No growls, no grunts, simply silence.

Sylphan Elves to the Melvaunian Kingdoms

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The message is received swiftly, and the reply is just as swift:
"Whatever aid you hjave to offer will be greatly appreciated. Though we are striking constantly and swiftly against this incursion, the sooner it is ended, the sooner it can be known that there is peace across these lands."