YS1:Turn15
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Arcoscephale
On the one hand, I now have five more glorious elephants. On the other hand, I had forgotten what it was like to be around Amshula.
"So this is your shrine, is it?" she said in lieu of the pleasantries exchanged by normal people on first meeting. "I thought you were going for something a little more, you know, grand." She ran a finger over a slightly uneven section of wall. "But the rustic look kind of works, too."
I breathed in and out, carefully. Think of the elephants, I thought to myself. We leave tomorrow to fight an unknown and potentially powerful force, headed by some self-styled Queen Unu'ishimma, and I do not know what to expect there. I am even open to the idea that reports of numerous horned serpents among her troops must be taken at face value. And Amshula, for some reason, commands respect among the troops as someone who would be helpful in this fight.
But why, I really couldn't say.
"Thymbre always felt that simple was better than ornate and overdone," I replied. If she proceeded to be contrary, then perhaps I would have an excuse to... but no. Mustn't give her an excuse to run off into the fens looking for mystical midges or some sort. Not before I got the elephants under my command, that is. I settled for a small jab.
"After all, what's the point of fancy and ornate month-long ceremonies if they don't, you know, find anything?"
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Machaka
"Master, a messenger from Man has arrived," nervously stated the messenger. He recalled the previous messenger from Caelum and the foul mood Cetewayo had displayed as a result. After the past months' military failures, the messenger was justifiably concerned that being near the god could soon become dangerous to one's health.
"Yes, show him in." Cetewayo again wished for the splendor of the Capital. After the military failures, the camp wasn't terribly impressive as an example of imposing military might. Of course, rumors reported that Man may have had a few stumbles recently, even, if rumor were to be believed, to the loss of their false god. Of course, that would only be temporary. Even the pitifully weak priests of Man would see that their deity returned.
Cetewayo was, again, concerned. Man was rumored to be the most powerful faction in the world. Even with the temporary loss of their leader... it would not do to 'upset' them. Diplomacy was so - distasteful. However, in this case it was more than necessary. It might be the only hope for survival. Regardless, he would not be a beggar. His nation was not without resources. Hopefully, allies could yet be found and the current situation remedied. In the mean time though, enemies would be most unfortunate.
The man entered. He was indeed a man. However, there was something almost imperceptibly subtle that hinted at something else. Cetewayo knew that few others in the world at this time would notice these slight differences. An even smaller number would have the necessary experience to know the fact to which these differences hinted. Cetewayo, however, was from a time long past and had seen the Tuatha himself. Indeed, he remembered the potency of their magic. Thankfully, their time had passed. However, these men had inherited more than a little of that magic, along with an air of otherness and an oh so slight exotic cast to their features.
The herald announced, "The honored emissary, Olwin of the Vale, representative of the faction of Man." Olwin performed an acceptable obeisance, nothing extravagant, yet not disrespectful.
"Welcome to our lands Olwin." stated Cetewayo as he observed the young man. Olwin was obviously a bit warm. The lands of the Machaka were uncomfortable for most races. However, this man was not suffering as the emissary from Caelum had suffered. Olwin did betray some arrogance as well. However, it was more the condescension of the 'Civilized' toward the tribal 'primitive' instead of the disdain for an inferior form of life the winged messenger had evidenced. Again, Cetewayo wished to be in the Capital. Balakavo would have driven such assumptions of superiority out of this one. Indeed, these were cross-breed woodsmen! Cetewayo forced himself to control his temper before anything unfortunate could happen. This man did represent the most powerful nation in the region, if not the world, after all. He continued, "Would you care for some refreshment?" as he gestured to a tray bearing an assortment of libations.
The selection included the native Kaf, heated of course, as well as a variety of chilled drinks, some imported from the Vale itself. To Cetewayo's surprise Olwin reached out and lifted the cup of Kaf. He inhaled the aroma and displayed obvious pleasure. Either the man was an accomplished actor or he enjoyed the smell. Olwin then replaced the cup. "Kaf is a rare treat that is indeed a welcome refreshment during the winter in my homeland. However, in this heat it would not be so refreshing. Instead, if you would not think less of me, I will partake of this excellent vintage." stated Olwin as he selected the best of the chilled wine from the Vale.
The two continued rather meaningless pleasantries until finally arriving at their business. "My mistress does not desire war at this time," stated Olwin, "However, if you commit an offense against our dominion, such offense will bring swift retribution from the Vale."
"Indeed, I would expect nothing less," responded Cetewayo.
An eon of meaningless formalities and pleasantries later Cetewayo was again alone with his thoughts. Reconstituting the army was first priority. However, gathering more intelligence about the world situation had to remain a high priority as well. Rumor could only tell him so much. More concrete information would be required.
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Man
The void. Ornate figures were swelling, only to disappear moments later. Echoes from the world came, shrill voices crying their despair. And the void, this feeling of emptiness, surrounding her. Memories slowly returned; a lucky arrow hit her, somehow finding its way through the whirling winds protecting her. A meagre weapon, yet sufficient to destroy her. The recollection of the pain that followed, her wiggles as the cold embrace of death came upon here.
But there was more, much more, to her plight. Voices should have risen in unison to call her back among the livings. Thousands of faithful believed in her; only a few muttered prayers now reached her. The chillness of dying seized her again, as she realised she would not see the sunlight for a long while, if ever. She wept.
Spring was nearing its end in the streets of Man, and the air was filled with the fragrance of blossoming flowers. Harvests were bountiful, the famines of Last year a simple unpleasant memory. The Fair Land was once more prosperous, the wealthiest realm of the known world as rumours had it. The bickering Earls, who had divided the kingdom, had been brought under control, and Man was once more a united power, confident of its ability to grow.
A glance at the city below the Castle brought Velimaine such thoughts. Power was now in the hands of Avalon, and so she naturally became Lady Warden of the realm, being the Daughter Superior of the Isle. All of Man under her rule; such responsibilities almost overwhelmed her, despite the customary involvement of Avalon in political matters. But she would have the time to reflect; there was no threat to Man, with its borders securely held by the royal host. The only pressing matter was to ensure the stability of the Summer Lands.
To this end, she summoned the Earl of Sjkomen, the lands surrounding Avalon proper. Sjkomen was now in charge of the administration of Avalon, a concession made to placate the Earls. Sjkomen himself was a not too ambitious nobleman, and talented to apply rulings, so long as he did not have to take decisions on his own; all that Velimaine required. She handed him an innocent, ordinary letter, to be copied and displayed in all parts of Man. Even the usually serene Earl paled while reading the contents of the missive:
“I, Velimaine of Avalon, in the name of my Sisters and Mother, hereby declare that Man is to be ruled under the custody of Avalon. The crown of Man will henceforth be detained by the Daughter Superior, or any Daughter chosen by her Sisters, and will no longer be transferred by the virtues of heredity. Be it also enacted that the current heir, the child Leonid, therefore loses all his rights, titles and duties as king, given his birth, which was not from the marriage between his father and mother, as it is widely known. His cousins do not have a claim strong enough to warrant their accession to the Crown, as per our customs and traditions.
The incarnation known as Ilneoa, whose divine nature led to erring on mortals, had disappear several moons past. Her divine nature whereby she claimed the Crown has been thus disproved, and her pretensions should similarly be dispelled. All citizens of the land are urged to step aside from her cult, and to return to our ancient rites, whereof only good thoughts can be given. Putting power in the hands of a creature full of exigencies was not the best notion to cross the minds of the believers; this shall not happen again.”
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R'lyeh
My little corner of this world is slowly taking shape. I am unbounded to the north, and can expand there for some time without interference from others. I've become quite confident in my ability to eat and rout these measly humans. My next attack will be on a heavily defended province, but Death doesn't scare me, I met him at this party on Epsilon Eridani one time... a very dry sense of humor.
I was told by lunch that the other would-be-gods are outpacing me in magical research now that I've left my dark undersea lab to feast. I'll summon some brains, but I don't really expect them to discover much without my brilliant tentacle guiding them.
I've chosen a site for my first coastal province. It is a good site, with moderately useful human crossbows, a library for sages, and a pleasant little path running down the cliffs to tide-pools where humans often bring their children to play. I anticipate many good spawns....
My first task force is going to spend a few seasons regrouping. Meteorite guards have an annoying habit of scattering in battle, and some sort of fodder is necessary to protect my precious, nummy, Illithids. I'll... "volunteer" a few humans to replace them, and collect some of the less pathetic runaways. They deserve death, not a second chance at glory, so I'll be sure to put them at the front of my formations with orders to attack the k-nig-its. A second task force is slowly making their way upriver through the mud to Red Lake, where they shall burst forth upon the witless inhabitants, spewing death.
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