The Story of CivilizationBoard

The First Crusade
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It has been several months since the ceremonial crowning of Rhine’s champion, Moltkien. Moltkien has proven himself in time to be a wise ruler of the land his people have conquered, organizing his armies as well as peasant farms to feed his ever growing army of holy men. Many churches and cathedrals of Rhine have been built throughout the lands he has conquered whilst fleeing from thee sacred holy land, that had been taken by savage barbarians. Moltkien, being tempted to build a fleet of warships to sail back to the Holy Land and retake it from the savage infidels. However he chose not too, knowing that his armies weren’t yet prepared and that they needed to secure the land they held now, and better train and equip his soldiers. However, Moltkien may not be setting out to reclaim the Holy Land but he has waged war upon the savages upon the borders of the land he has proclaimed named “Neuderland”, meaning “Blessed Land”. Moltkien has declared the First Crusade against the savages of the mortal land. He now rides through the fields of savagery leading his army of crusaders with the Zealot who had crowned them riding by their side, after months of constant warfare hundreds or perhaps thousands have been slayed by the hands of Moltkien’s crusaders. Moltkien only losing 1,358 Men in battle, and so they all gather at a local fort celebrating the glorious crusade. Feasting upon the finest food Neuderland has to offer, Moltkien sitting at the long table consuming roast beef as several finely clothed men sat around them. These men proving their loyalty to the crusade and Moltkien by assisting him and his armies by supplying food, shelter, and even their own men. Moltkien known for rewarding loyalty raises his hand silencing the room as he spoke up saying.

“Now, gentlemen.... you all have been invited to this feast for you’re service to Me, Rhine, and the Crusade. Now as you may all know, I like too reward those who show their loyalty.” Moltkien would say, as one of the finely clothed men spoke up saying.

“Yes.... I have payed a great deal of gold and silver on your.... Crusade, so I except some serious compensa-“ The Man would be interrupted by Moltkien bashing his fist against the table, as Moltkien would then respond, his voice booming throughout the dining hall.

“Silence! I was not finished speaking, and you have spoken out of term....” Moltkien would say, all of the other finely clothed men staring at the man who had spoken, as he would have a look of fear upon his face, opening his mouth to say something as Moltkien would then continue.

“Now, as I was saying.... I give great rewards to those who choose to be loyal to me, as for all of you gentlemen. I have conquered large swathes of land that is open for the taking, and I have chosen you all to be crowned as the lords of these new lands. All of you shall have your own plot of land, which shall vary depending upon your loyalty and how much you have served me and thee crusade.” Moltkien would say, the men widening their eyes as they all pondered upon this idea, seeming to like the sound of Moltkien’s deal. As they would all agree Moltkien nodding as they would then say

“Very Good, however.... you all must convert to Heilrhine, and convert all those within your land to worship our lord Rhine. Alright?” Moltkien would say, most of the men agreeing as a few of them would deny, having no desire to convert. Moltkien glaring at the few would had denied to be enlightened to the glory of Rhine, as priest would walk over to the men, ordering those who had wished to be enlightened to follow, as those who had denied Moltkien’s request remained seated, eventually all of the other clothed men would exit the room, leaving only Moltkien, Guards, and those who had denied to be converted. Eventually Moltkien would snap his fingers as the guards who seize the men who had so foolishly denied the path of enlightenment, as they would be dragged away, the men kicking and screaming. Yelling at the guards to release them, as Moltkien would say.

“You had the opportunity of greatness, and to walk the path of purity and enlightenment. But instead you chose to continue with your primitive ways.... by denying my request, you have proven yourselves as infidels. Who must be punished for your heresy..... Guards! Take them to the hills!” Moltkien would say, as
the men who had so foolishly rejected Moltkien’s kind offer would be taken far outside the fortress. Dragged up a large hill, and would be nailed up onto a wooden cross for all to see what happens to those who deny the enlightenment of Rhine. For thee Crusade leaves no Infidels alive, it wouldn’t be long until a swarm of peasants gathered around them, tossing rotten old tomatoes at them, gawking as they preached the name of Rhine.

OOC:

Map Updated. Next weeks goal is to make the names pretty, week after that will be the addition of capital cities.

Push to the Coast
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After the meeting with those who had assisted the Crusade, Moltkien would set out on another great expedition. For his scouts had reported that the crusade was now approaching towards open water, scouts had also reported that the coast was said to be a final stand for a large tribe of infidels. They had stated that the tribe was at least 1,200 men strong, Moltkien decided to rally his forces and march towards this tribes final stand. But he had no desire to give them a glorious death at the hands of his crusaders, no. He had something much better in mind, Moltkien and his forces would ride off. Marching towards the coast in which the tribe of savages and infidels were defending themselves, eventually after many days they would arrive. Gazing down upon the tribe who were all gathered along the beach, barricades and tents scattered all across the land as Moltkien observed them. He knew that the infidels were most unwise as they had given up the high ground of the hills in favor of holding the beach, but he couldn’t help but ponder why they would chose to not make their stand upon the beaches rather than the hills. Suddenly, one of his men would come up to him and say.

“Sire! We have spotted vessels off in the distance within the water! They appear to be sailing towards here. We have reason to believe that they are either here to provide an escape, or bring reinforcements to the infidels along the beach.” The Man would say, as Moltkien stared at him, stroking his beard as they looked around. Not liking the idea of his enemy possibly escaping, or potentially being surrounded by reinforcements. As they would eventually be able to spot a large amount of boulders upon a cliff near to where the infidels had made camp, seeing this. Moltkien thought of a brilliant plan as he would look over to his men, gaining their attention as he would say.

“Men! The infidels gather upon the beaches! To make a last stand that they see as a chance of glory against a superior foe. However..... I have no plans to give them their chance of glory, for we shall not fight with our blades of our creator Rhine’s stones.” Moltkien would say, pointing towards the boulders as he would order his men to gather more large rocks and boulders and stack them along the cliffside, as he then requested for them to create a makeshift avalanche. As time would pass, the ships of the infidels could be spotted approaching as Moltkien’s crusaders would prepare themselves, trying to make it appear that they were about to attack. When in reality they were preparing to slaughter the infidels with the rocks of Rhine, soon. Moltkien’s plan would be ready, as he would raise his hand. The archers drawing their bows as the infidels down below would raise there shields to defend themselves, Moltkien would give his order to fire. As the archers would hold there arrows whilst the boulders fell from the hills tumbling down upon the infidels, crushing them underneath the might of the rocks of Rhine. Those who had survived would be shot down by the arrows of the archers, the ships heading towards the beaches would begin turning back. As Molkien’s army celebrated there casualty free victory, whilst the archers would pelt the boats fleeing with arrows lit on fire. A few of the ships catching on fire as the infidels On boated desperately attempted to put them out, Moltkien staring as he smiled at the heavens. Knowing that Rhine was smiling down upon him as well, for he had expanded the realms of Neuderland. He now looked back from which he had came, deciding to begin planning his quest to retake the Holy Land. Knowing that he would require the full force of his armies, and that they would have to construct a great fleet in order to land upon the Holy Land, He spoke up and said.

“Courier! Come forth, and hand me a paper and quill.... I have a message to send forth to my son.” Moltkien would say, as a man would run forward handing him paper, ink, and a quill. Moltkien would write down a message for his son, to meet back at fort Ivory, the message would read.

“My eldest son, I send you this letter to request your immediate return to Fort Ivory. For thee time has come to sail back to thee Holy Land and have it return underneath thee flag of Neuderland, so thee land in which Rhine has crafted and blessed may be protected by his loyal followers.” Once Moltkien had finished writing he would hand his letter to the courier, as he would say.

“Courier, mount yourself upon a steed, and take two guards with you, deliver thy I have to my son as fast as Rhine wills you.” Moltkien would say, as the courier nodded, running to a horse as he picked two of the soldiers within Moltkien’s army, As they would rise off to Halvon Reichsheart.

To Survive in a Freedom-Loving Land - Part I

Beong-yeon Mainland

"What are all of you doing?! You couldn't even catch a small rat and how dare are you called yourself as the General of Beon?!" King Wangxi stood and angered in front of the throne hall, then throwing several books from the desk to the General's face; resulting a thin line blood scratch over his left cheek.

There were several ministries, noble clans, two shaman, couple of soldiers and the General. There also stood a father to Xinhua, called Lord Xinjiping. For over thirty minutes, they had been listening to the insults and anger of the King.

"Please punish us, Your Majesty, we are not worth to live!" the General kneeled and then followed by the left side and right side of the audience. "Please punish us, Your Majesty!"

"Enough!" the King angered and was about to throw another flower vase to the General but was interrupted by the Minister of Defence - Lee Wangge

"Wasn't the rat escaped with the high clan's daughter? That must be amusing, Your Majesty!" Lee Wangge smirked at the General and then slightly turned above her head towards King Wangxi.

"What in the world are you trying to say?" the vase slightly turned and thrown towards Lee Wangge, but it was not directly hit at his head; only a couple of centimetres it would turn to bloodbath of the scalp. Nevertheless, the broken pieces of the vase scratched his thumb and bled.

"Please punish us, Your Majesty!" Lee Wangge bowed his head with regretful expression and shortly smirked again towards Xinjiping.

"If it's true what you said, then I, as the King of Beong-yeon, will never be in silence and will never hesitate to strip off and kill the whole family. No... I would make them suffer than killing!" the King returned the throne chair and sat, continued to order.

"This will be your last chance, General, find at once that rat and drag her here by any means. But don't kill her! I will torture her by myself." King Wangxi ordered the General and asked to raise up.

"Your merciness is the happiness for all people of Beong-yeon, Your Majesty." all of the official kneeled once again and then raise up.

"And you, Lee Wangge! You must seek the truth who assisting the rat behind all of this." the King yelled with vengeance facial expression to the Minister of Defence.

"Your order is my joy. And yours shall be done, Your Majesty!" Lee Wangge deeply bowed and smirked once more to Xinjiping. It seemed that Lee had already known behind all of this, and interestingly, the General did not tell the honesty that he was the last one to see the traitor girl escaped by the junk and witnessed the high noble clan's daughter - Xinhua assisting Guxi.

"You're all dismissed! Disappear!" King Wangxi dismissed the official meeting and all officials before leaving the throne room deeply bowed to respect the King.

It was really hard to tell which side were with some ministries and to which side were there with other ministries and official. However, for sure, there were several people including the noble clan, official and at least one minister did not favour the King for one solid reason. It was because the King was not the legal son of the former deceased King - Wang Zhou of the Dynasty Zhou; besides the internal conflict within the land - starvation and internal rebellion.

Unknown Region

The wind breezes, and the waves looks like dancing with another group of waves rolling inwards the shore by not-so loud crashing sound. The Sun hides covered by somewhat dark clouds and it tells it is going to rain soon. There Guxi, Xinhua and Zhou Tian sit together with all member of a native tribe. At the beginning it was very hard to adapt, not because of the different culture, however it is has been the communication barrier. So, once in a while, they have been using a sign-communication by any means. For example, if they would like to eat, Xinhua demonstrated with her right palm grabbing sand and then bringing back touching the lips and opening her mouth. It goes the same for the native as well. However, on that day, they try to draw something like a fish shape, because during Guxi's childhood, she and her uncle always hunted for the fish in the morning and evening for their meals. She wonders if the land she inhibits has the fish around, thus, instead using the sign-communication language; and it is a bit hard to understand the meaning precisely, she draws in the sand forming the fish-shape. The native smiles widely and nods, and said, "ne". The tribe also draws the shape of a person bowing down indicating the "ne" mean. Xinhua and Zhou Tian assume that "ne" means a yes. At least, finally, they could communicate much better by drawing
The native also teaches some basic words like fish is called "myulgogi" as it is heard by the three. Even though pronounciation imitates the native whether it corrects or not, at least the tribe approves with nodding. And soon, they are able to understand bit by bit. But, for now, when they would like to communicate, Guxi asks the tribe together to get to the beach so they could understand each other by drawing; even if it is at night and dark!

"How do you like this land?" Xinhua smiles while accompanying Guxi when about to sleep in the wood-cone-shaped shelter.

"Well, at least, it is good for now. No more Beong-yeon," Guxi smiles slightly towards Xinhua and replied by Xinhua a slight nodding.

They discuss their plan to establish a small post to live, but yet find the right time to discuss with the native. By communicating that way, they had a chance to get resourceful fish, and delicious to eat. Even though the tribe did not quite eat the fish, instead, they pluck the oak leaves and cook with white rabbit. So, the rabbit meat cooked with a wood from a dead tree and then boiled above the bon fire at night; if it is cooked the cut with their bare hand and covered with oak leaf before consuming. Nevertheless, consuming water is no different. They gather fresh water from the river, which Xinhua called Xinyang River. The tribe also informs that the river originating from the mountain, which the native calls "Shourak", while Chief Ho shows them the imitation of kneeling down and bowing down to the ground; thus they assume the mountain is sacred for them. For the respect, they follow the way of the native by kneeling down and bowing down their head to the ground. The way they imitate the native, makes the native is comfortable living with the three companionship.

Another peaceful night accompanied by many stars above the sky, Chief Ho approaches Guxi sitting down near the beach. This is what Guxi could understand from the Chief saying :

"We live here to run. Run away to free. We need to surive. Survival is our enemy. We have to love survival, then survival will become our allies to feed a happy loving life."

Even though Guxi does not understand wholly, at least she can defines it that way for now and Chief Ho also seems to nod the way Guxi understands. Thus, she teaches Chief Ho to write it in her Beong-yeon language and the Chief seems to be happy to see the sand writing and attempts to imitate several times.

熱愛自由的 which literally means, "freedom-loving".

About 20 worth times trying, Chief Ho finally is able to imitate the Guxi's sand writing and they laugh at each other. Xinhua and Zhou Tian hide behind the Oak Tree looking at their interaction, and they smile at each other, too.

The Assault on Solnezov

"Send them to the worms!"[1] Emmanuel shouted, "No mermaid wants a Sevhonkian cock!"

The Pirate Lord roared from behind his vanguard, which was engaged in a fierce melee just inside the city's southern gates against some of the men of Sea Lord Sevhonkian. Lord Bedros had indeed largely upheld his end of the bargain, getting them past nearly all of the 25 biremes that constituted the navy of Solnezov, beaching their vessels just down the shore from the city without loss. As per their original agreement, half of his men had also landed north of the city, with half of Lord Bedros' men as well. He knew little of how well they were doing, but hoped that under Lord Bedros they had made faster work of the gates that himself - after all he knew this city well.

The Sevhonkians, though better equipped, quickly broke against the tide of cutthroats and savages battering them, and Emmanuel's men spilled into the streets, quickly overwhelming the city guard rushing to shore up the defensive lines. Too few, too late. So too did his men charge up the steps to the walls, now capable of cutting down the archers that had harassed them from above for minutes on end now. The archers had taken the real toll, with Emmanuel's men having no armor to protect them and few ranged weapons of their own with which to retaliate.

The roughly hundred or so men Lord Bedros had left with Emmanuel had fared better in the fight, and Emmanuel smirked as he looked to his first mate, giving a nod. The man blew hard on a horn, and the streets fell silent for a moment as the men looked for their next orders, "The mermaids want no Bedrosi cocks either!" Emmanuel shouted with glee, drawing his own sword and sticking it through one of Lord Bedros' men directly before him. As quickly as the first melee against the Sevhonkians had ended, that against Lord Bedros' man had begun. It was swift and gruesome, with enemies now well intermixed, much to the dismay of the Bedrosi men whom preferred to fight in formation. Victory had once been in sight for them, but now they could only stare at the swords being stabbed through their belly's.

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North of the city, Bedros' vessels crashed up along the shore, no doubt damaging the bows immensely - but that mattered little now. They had to either win, or die. The navy of Solnezov would block any attempts at escaping, and those vessels were far faster than his own. Jumping down into the knee deep water, Bedros began trudging forward, his men following with a great war cry. He looked left and right and saw the slower pirate vessels just now beaching as well - that was alright, his men were to lead the vanguard anyhow. Up the narrow beach he charged, straight onto solid ground. As he neared the thicket that separated the beach from the farmland beyond - and the road that would lead him to the northern gate - he heard the call of a cavalry horn, and slowed slightly.

Looking back, he realized now that the pirates had indeed not disembarked - in fact they lined the decks with bows, nocked, drawn - released. The screams of his men could not drown out the crashing that came through the thicket though, and Bedros pivoted just in time to glance the mounted troops charging down his position - just making out the colors of Lord Vartivar's men before he was cut down.

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"Lord Sevag." Vartivar said, pointing to the ground before walking a few paces forward, "Lord Sevhonkian" he said, once again pointing to the ground then walking a few further paces, "And Lord Bedros." he concluded, pointing to a final patch of ground. Men immediately took their spades and began digging into the hillside, just below his own estate a days ride from Solnezov. The fires from the battle had been put out, and much of the city had been spared from the fighting, save the area around the northern gate, and that around Lord Sevag's residence. Now he would bury his foes far from the sea.

"He promised me his mother and sister." Emmanuel said quietly, Vartivar turning to see the Pirate Lord looking out to the estate of the late Lord Bedros, which was being looted and torched as they spoke. "Have them you will, then." Vartivar said with a chuckle, "Our plan worked better than I had expected, and those girls will either need to die, or spend the rest of their days in your cabin."

"Indeed." replied Emmanuel with a smirk, turning to look at Vartivar, "You were the richest Sea Lord of Solnezov because of your wealth. Now you are the richest Sea Lord of Solnezov because of your wealth, and because you are the the only Sea Lord of Solnezov."

"And you are the richest Pirate in the Shimmering Sea." Vartivar responded in kind, "The entire wealth of the houses of Lord Sevhonkian and Lord Bedros are yours to indulge. Besides, the dead cannot make enemies - so you have done it all without making a single one. Now, you have fulfilled your end of this deal, and I mine, so I believe our partnership has come to a natural conclusion." Vartivar finished, frankly tired of Emmanuel's presence - the fanfare of burying his colleagues had worn off, and he looked forward now to taking rule of the city, the grand conclusion to a plan that had been years in the making for him.

"Does that mean we are once again enemies?" Emmanuel asked with a smirk, "Be mindful of your response, six hundred savages still roam your lands."

Vartivar stood tall, putting on a confident ton, "As Lord of Solnezov, I clear you of all your past crimes. Within my domain, you shall only be punished for those crimes you commit henceforth."

Emmanuel nodded, "A great courtesy indeed, after I have helped to murder three Sea Lords. No no, Lord Vartivar, we shall take our wealth and depart your lands. Your navy was growing tiresome to evade, we will seek lower hanging fruit elsewhere. Perhaps sell the Bedrosi and Sevagian men we captured to the Wence, or anyone else we come to meet who will have them for fair price."

"Hmph." Vartivar replied, not too keen on the idea of Solnezovian's being on the slave market. He could do little now however, his own men were thoroughly depleted by the combat of the day preceding. "Well, do enjoy seeing some of the world, Emmanuel. If you should ever desire to retire from piracy, you're more than welcome in my city."

"Lord Vartivar." Emmanuel concluded with a mocking, curt bow.

"Lord Emmanuel." Vartivar said conceedingly, turning now to watch the bodies of the other Lords kicked into their new graves. It was with great pleasure he forsook them to burial, rather than casting them into the sea. Their wealth had hardly matched his - their presumptions of equality between the lords had led to a brewing resentment for many years. Today, Vartivar finally buried that resentment.

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[1]: As per Jrahari[A] tradition, when a man dies he ought be cast off to sea to eternally rest with the mermaids, where he will find pleasure until the death of the world. If a man is sent to the worms however - aka buried - he will never make it to their realm.

[A]: The religion of Solnezov and other nearby coastal cities, it features the worship of mermaid goddesses whom most men lust after.

The Scream of the Wind

The wind was indeed whipping its way across the great steppes, stronger than many could remember. A man would have trouble walking against it, and so Iori took great pride that it was indeed behind him. He could feel it urging him forward. The hand of Fujin - the literal hand of god - pushing him towards his enemy. Fujin wanted him to spill blood. Iori, wanted to spill blood. The men of the Idaina clan wanted to spill blood.

Blood would be spilled.

The men mounted their horses, armed only with sword and spear. Arrows would not fly in this wind.

The Elders looked on disapprovingly, but the Shamans made it no secret that they approved - the wind, after all, was giving them an unmistakable message. No longer did it swirl patterns in the grass, merely it bent it forward, showing the path upon which the great warrior Iori must follow. Iori could not shout a great speech to his men, nor would they hear his blood-curdling battle cry over the howling of the wind. Instead, he merely urged his horse forward, raising his sword skyward. The sign was unmistakable, and the horses of his followed lurched forward, the wind at their back.

They charged across the field, some hundred-and-fifty riders at full pelt towards the Tosho camp in the distance. No matter how fast they rode, the wind still pushed them forward more, and more, and more, Iori's own immense back almost acting as a sail, sweeping him along the flat plains and keeping him at the front of the group.

The wind carried sound in only one direction, and the Tosho could no doubt hear the thundering of hooves, and war cry of warriors as they approached. With seconds before their enemies arrival they started to flood out of their tents, almost bewildered by the men charging out of the darkness. They had not expected the victors to come back for more blood - after all, the Tosho clan had conceded. Tradition had been thrown to the wind.

The men of the Idaina clan bowled through their enemies, the edge of their blades having so much force behind them they cut through men as if they were no different than the air. Collisions sent riders flying, the men their mounts collided with being snapped and thrown, limp when they hit the ground. Wasteful, but terrifying.

The great Tosho clan, some 500 strong, was cut to pieces in a matter of minutes. They were used to principled southern clans. Coming north had shown them only savagery, and their rules did not save them.

So great was the wind that Iori and his men had to take to the camp when their work was finished, unable to make the ride upwind to their own camp. It was with great pleasure they stayed the night however, and the meticulously killed every man and boy of the Tosho clan, further raping the women to make sure they could birth only Idaina men. In a night, they wiped out a great clan completely.

The wind was poisoned with terror, and it quickly spread across the great steppes, and through all the clans of Reavernn - the Idaina were to be feared.

VISION

The warm tropical rain fell in droves over the calm seas, roiling the island with massive shuddering gasps of energy. Reeiling watched contemplatively as the waves rose and fell before pulling out his Sighols and murmuring a quiet yet fervent prayer to The Watcher that the storm wouldnt get to violent. The rain beat down in a celestial temper tantrum, rain pouring down the smooth wooden slates, the water dripping softly to the soaking wet ground. Outside the yells of joyful children enjoying the onslaught of the storm made his lips twist in a sincere smile. In the distance a canoe still trying to beat the rain and the waves with their catch safely in hand hits the beach with a smoove thump, the man grabbing his catch and sprinting for the nearest house. A soft knock on the door made him stir from his thoughts. “ Enter,” he called cheerfully. A tall man in green robes enters, shaking the rain off his robes. “ Counselor member Tielfel, “ he called cheerfully. The other man bows in greetings. “ Head Counselor Reeiling,” he responds. “ Am i bothering you?” Reeiling Shakes his head. “ Not at all, “ he says, “ How can i help?”

Tielfel took the offered seat before looking at the door making sure it was shut. Reeiling watched him curiously, what was this about? Tielfel lowered his head staring him right in the eye. “ The second Catcher had another vision, it involves something of the utmost importance. Reeiling looked up in concern. “ Is Sharsha alright?” he asked in concern. Tielfel took a deep breath. “ Shaken up but in no danger,” he assured him. “ She claims to have been told that there is danger coming. After the group left the island to seek out a new way, She had a vision of tall men with beards and weapons like we’ve never seen before.” Tieling leaned back and breathed deeply. This was bad. Really bad.

He took a breath before continuing. “ She described trees with a thousand branches, fields of frozen white sands, men in shining robes and holding weapons that shone like polished stone. 4 legged creatures with arms on their heads, gigantic fur covered creatures that could stand on 2 legs and other.....monsters.” He shut his eyes. “ She said they would bring about a time of golden grain unlike anything we’ve ever seen....Or terrible pain and suffering. Death,, misery.....war.” Reeiling shakily took a leg, his hands shaking as he fetched two bowls of Frinjuta. The other counselor took it gratefully with raspy sips. Five minutes of uneasy silence and the trickling of rain, the storm, in all its fury, bluster and wrath was finally dying down, He could hear the complaints of those the storms houses had torn or damaged roofs, windows and other fixtures, could hear the murmured complaints and whines as Keepers guided the crestfallen youngsters back to into the learning house to continue their studies, the angry grumble about boats ruined, crops scattered in heaps, pigs and livestock missing and other things he would no doubt be hearing about but he took few comforts in the that inedible chore, currently distracted by the other blaring whir of distraction, tribulations and worries this black hued cloud of news had left in its wake. He rather favored the former. He took a deep breath and turned around. Teilfel had seemingly recovered was patiently awaiting his orders. “ We shall meet about this come morning, “ please pep the counsel but tell nobody, it would do ill to spread such news, especially on what such few facts we know."

Teilfel bowed and in a whir of cloak and a slightly fruity odor, was gone, the door clicking softly behind him. Reeiling took little notice, his gaze and worries deepened as he stared into the angry red sunset that bled into hues of orange and yellow. What now? What of his people? Against such an attack.. He knew little. Could he protect them? How would he? He found himself barely awake, wandering, no lurching towards his home. His family. His life. Then he was home. And the laughter and smiles of his children echoing like an axe in a rotten tree, his wives questions and concerned face a mere buzz in his ear. He couldn't blame her. He felt like some drunken fool, intoxicated by his worry and confusion today had brought him. Bed, sleep, at last, the shadows dancing along with that single damning question. As even as sleep overtook him, that one singular disturbing question taunted and hunted in a circular dance. What now? What now? What.....now? what.... now....

OOC

The map has been updated. Welcome Gojucheon!

Vallasa

"I sentence you to die for your crimes."

The man's head wilted.

"Given their barbarity, and the dishonor it would bring to the gods to burn you, you shall be flayed living and left as carrion."

The man was now trembling visibly, audibly sobbing when he was able to catch his breath in-between anxious gasps. Had he not cast the bodies of those he murdered into the Voltan river, instead leaving them to be burned and sent to the gods, perhaps he would be afforded the same right. Burning alive was perhaps equally as painful as being flayed living, but at least then his soul would not be condemned to walk the earth forever.

Two guards walked over, seizing the man from his kneeling position and dragging him from the room.

"Next!" called the herald once a side door had closed, sealing off the cries of the damned. The great doors at the end of the room opened, allowing in the next individual - and the next problem. This one was the Royal Courier, obviously bearing important news within the scroll he carried. He came to a stop just before the first set of steps, giving a small bow, before standing, "I bring message from Solnezov, direct from Lord Vartivar Karapetyan."

The man occupying the throne gave a nod, and the courier unfurled the scroll,

"To the esteemed Anselmo Carral, High Lord of Vallasa, I, Lord Vartivar Karapetyan, have come to assume the role as the only Sea Lord of Solnezov. I write to you this news in good faith, and hope that we can maintain the diplomatic and trade ties that were forged under the late Sea Lord Alexan Sevhonkian. Signed, Vartivar Kareptyan, Sea Lord of Solnezov."

The Courier rolled up the scroll as he finished, looking now to Lord Anselmo Carral in his high throne.

"A brief message," Anselmo concluded, "and no mention of how he came to be the sole Sea Lord of Solnezov."

"I took the liberty of asking the traders who had just come from Solnezov," the Courier replied, "betrayal. Murder. A fight in the streets."

"A small fight, or a big fight?"

"Very large, my Lord. He brought the Yarlish pirates to his side, and killed all those armed in the name of the other Sea Lords. At least 1,000 died, I'm told."

"Thank-you." Anselmo replied, "If you've nothing else to report, you're free to go."

The Courier gave a bow, lower than the first, and turned to depart.

"If the Sea Lord of Solnezov has lost a thousand men, how many does that leave him with?" Anselmo asked, turning to his Councilors who sat to his right, at and angle to the court. Sir Vernaldino Raso, Anselmo's most trusted general, spoke, "Less than two thousand, I would estimate."

Anselmo smiled, "It seems about time I paid a visit to the Sea Lord of Solnezov For far too long we have merely kept one another at trading distance. Now is the time to truly meet our neighbors. General Raso, prepare the horses. All the horses."