I'll put up the IC threads once all the maps are generated. For now though... here's Map #3 [team Ascaloth]. I'll be working my way down the list.
Map Scenario: #003 - Dwali
115BV; 409 Imp. Year
Snow falls, a gentle curtain of white that exudes a veritable sense of peaceful contentment. For the moment, you can almost forget the biting cold and the howling winds of Duae’Durduth; almost. Below, on the lower battlements, torches flare and drums beat a steady tempo as shivering warriors in clanking armor bustle about, hurrying to their assigned positions. Small dots and flashes of light signal the mages interspersed amongst the soldiers, reviewing the final touches of whatever arcane calculations drive their realty-bending might, and the ever-so-slight shifting of snow covered tarps gives away where nervous archers have been stationed.
For a moment, the snow and wind abates, and Castle Cordae looms over the frozen lands for miles and miles on end. Masterfully cut stones that make up the castle's, no, the fortress’ walls shine almost painfully as torchlight shatters against ice encrusted peaks and fractures into dozens of dancing colors. Proudly bedecked with blue banners, powdered with snow, and towering above the ground from its home in a mountain’s side, it seems as though Castle Cordae might have come straight out of the fairy tales of man. It is a lofty and proud structure, a symbol of man’s dominance over nature, over these frozen wastes and the foolhardy ones that rail against their supremacy.
Still, though, the nervous energy below is enough to remind that waxing poetic is not the proper course of action. For months, the warriors of Barad Cordae, foremost amongst the many tribes, have waged terrible war against a plague of monstrous creatures. Never before, has the mettle of the Many been so sorely tested, that the tribes might be driven back to cower in their ancestral homes, as might a child scolded by their Battlemaster for the first time. It is a current of dissatisfaction, of anxiousness, that runs through the assembled troops, a strange departure from the excitement that usually precludes battle. Is it the location, perhaps, the knowledge that their foe seeks to despoil the artifact upon the mountain’s top?
Still, whatever the answer is, there is little that can be done to ponder it now. Already the horizon begins to darken with innumerable wings and an unspeakably vile presence looms in the distance. The Warlord Arekal’s voice booms out a wordless challenge, his cry more akin to the drake that he rides than a man’s, and every warrior’s voice joins his own in a deafening cacophony of defiance…
Defeat Gilgeza Ao'Nefer
Survive for 21 Turns
All Player Units fall
Gilgeza Ao'Nefer reaches A16, A17, A18, A19, or A20
Ruby Ray – -/- [10wt, 15mt, 75% hit, 5% crit] 1-3r; A
Ruby Rod – 5/5 [14wt, 18mt, 65% hit, 15% crit] 1-2r, Splash 1, indirect; S
Negative Shift – 3/3 [Anima magic disadvantaged and Dark magic empowered within range] S
>>> Effect persists for 3 turns, range is 15 tiles
Weathered and browned by exposure, once golden exteriors stripped by looters and avaricious kings, the relic-tombs of the Golden King continue to stand with silent dignity over the shifting sands of the Nibiru, the great sea of sand which is said to connect this world to the next. It is to this inhospitable land that you have come in search of the path to Ur Hurasam and the god-weapons that it houses within its shining walls. Drawn by prophesy, a hair of destiny, and the quite concrete deciphered ramblings of a rather mad scholar, the cumulation of your long journey lies ripe for the taking.
In your hand rests a short baton of dull metal, tipped with powdered lapis lazuli on either end and engraved with blocky, earthy, patterns. Heavy despite its size, it nestles in your hand with the metaphysical weight of the singular blessing poured onto it by Zi Dingir Gi in the Kia Dimtu, a blessing which will repower the crystals located within each tomb and power the sky-way to Ur Hurasam.
Were this the only obstacle to be overcome, you would have breathed a sigh of relief, for throughout your journey you have been hounded by the forces of the Dark. From Farin to the ruins of once-proud Ethart, across the storm wracked seas to Duae’Durduth, and beyond the boundaries of the world known to Man, your every step has been met with hardship and misfortune. Still, you have persevered, and with the power that you will soon seize, the rebirth of the dreaming un-god, Esutider Rho-Icael, will remain but a terrible nightmare.
A bolt of eye-watering darkness rakes across the sky, slamming down in the distance with a bone-shuddering crash and a spray of skyward tossed sand. The shrieking laughter of those claimed by the Dark carries over the dunes and apprehension claws at your stomach.
The dreamy prince addresses the caravan of pilgrims following his feal lord. Some years ago- never mind how long precisely- having an abundance of wealth and nothing particular to interest him, Nadir found himself in the service of an idle archeologist. Ahead, Nil leads the procession by the divining tool. Nadir could not recall for how long the march had been on; so he checked the nape of his steed. Counting the cuts he had drawn and supped from along the stallion's neck, he judges that they had been riding for at least one full moon. The terse silence owing to his question affronts the badawī noble; until Boudica explodes with barely contained irritation.
"Give it a rest, freak! You've announced your bloodclotting name half a score over the last league! And the league before that, and before tha-"
"Badawī have titles, not names like yours, barbarian," the desert dweller coolly reminds his traveling companion, "If I have not had the opportunity to explain my affli-"
Fidgets among the company confirm the sentiment, though Boudica is the only one stubborn enough to engage Nadir over the futile issue. Nadir slouches some in the saddle, resigned to ride until he was somewhere anew.
The procession comes to a halt at Nil's beck. For an instance, the haze of Nadir's amnesia is banished by a refraction of the ruins across the horizon. The ominous fata morgana of sailing pyramids shimmers across the dune and the scene is through. The empty howls and cackles of the Taken echo through the shivering ranger. A natural calm surrounds his own Lord, in his cloak as he billows and whips down the sand mound like another wave of dust.
I don't see how giving you authority stars would help since they don't affect named characters.
Don't worry about it, this one's an Alternate Universe with some radically different worldbuilding (where I got the idea to base Aida out of). Originally the world map was going to have a lot of deserts and be a huge Wild Arms ripoff, but I recanted on that so you guys got Close Horizons.
Everything is desert - AHAHAHAHA!!! No but seriously I hope you like having a General who can only move 1-tile per turn.
Edit: I'm kidding, the stuff with stones on it is 'sand'. And the tiles with bricks, I guess.
I have no idea when I'm supposed to actually post this, so here it goes.
Piter(G4) to J6
Wade(F4) to H8
Craster(D3) to J3
Celia(D7) to J7, trade Pure Water off Piter, canto to J8
Abby(C7) to G10
Boudica(G2) to J2
Rui(B6) to B10
Nadir(G3) to I8
Nil(C6) to D11, summon eidolon at E11
Eidolon(E11) to I13
"Repeat to yourself; it's just RP, I should really just relax" ~the mantra