STEEL Dominion

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         Big Trouble on Little Imp Island

         There was a current of fear and uncertainty in the Halls of the HighLord.

         A gauntlet had been thrown down, and it threatened to derail all that we had worked for to this point.

         A silly thing, really, but it's amazing how sometimes the silliest little things can have consequences that echo through the ages.

         So it was with the settlement on Imp Island.

         Imp Island is a less-than-impressive spit of land.  A mere speck off the coast of the main island, but blessed with year round good weather, being sheltered from nearly all storms by the protection offered by Thunder Bay (which, I assume, is named as it is to be a joke - like calling a towering giant 'Tiny,' because I've never seen more than the occasional light rain fall across Thunder Bay).

         In any case, the trouble started when Bezi the Dwarf sought to expand his holdings, and cast his eye toward the tiny, sheltered island.

         "Fine."  The HighLord told him with barely a thought.  

         No Lord in all of Illyriad had laid a sovereign claim to the island, and as far as we were concerned, it was ripe for the taking if we wanted it.

         So it was that settlers were sent, and industrious Dwarven craftsmen began unloading and duly building a new settlement there.

         A representative of Lord Poeme, speaking from the city of Kryptonopolis disagreed, and petitioned to his HighLord (ruler of a vast collection of far flung city states with many, many times our scant population and manpower), and made an issue of it.

         Per their charter, he claimed the land belonged rightfully to him (informal 10-tile Illy convention), and he expressed his desire to eventually build a settlement there himself.

         War was actually threatened over this tiny speck of green in an otherwise sparkling blue bay, and let us be frank about the matter, this was a contest we could not win, a fact we knew full well, which was the reason for the aforementioned current of tension and fear.

         "They say war will come if we don't remove the settlement."  Timrath told the assembled Council.  "I should say that's fairly unequivocal."

         "Agreed."  Velociryx said with his hands on his head.  "Not much wiggle room there.  Have our brethren in STEEL been contacted?"

"Yes, but their answer was most troubling."

"What was it?"

"They told us to stand down.  To cave in and give the Lords of Soon anything they asked for."

Velociryx looked stunned, and fell silent.

Something cracked and broke loose on his face and in his eyes, just as something had cracked and broken loose in the Covenant of Steel that bound the three alliances (STEEL, REALM, and FORGE) together.

"We approach our allies for assistance, in good faith and through proper channels, and THAT is all the reply we get?"

No one spoke in answer.

"With friends like that, I'm not sure we NEED enemies, you know?" He blew out a frustrated breath.  "We can't just cave though, you know?  What kind of signal would that send?"

There was silence for a long moment.

"So...the bottom line is...we're on our own.  We've been threatened, our allies refuse to answer our call for aid, and if a solution is to be found, we'll have to do it on our own...our "friends" have left us with our arses hanging out in the wind."

         "Well,"  Timrath offered, "We could still force the issue then...if they want it gone that badly, let them take it.  We can't expect that anybody would come to our aid, and we would surely lose the contest, but they would not erase us for that one little island, and it would give them a diplomatic black eye to the rest of the world."

         And that was likely true...a Titan picking on a small child.  Still...how much pain could we endure if we chose that path?  We were as yet still young and fragile.  Too much pressure applied could shatter us completely.  A frightening thought.

         "What if we offer to sell the settlement?  Then, everybody has a graceful exit, right?  We get to claim we weren't chased off, and they get what they want."

         "I already approached them with that."  Machete said, slamming a massive fist onto the oaken table.  "They said since it was rightfully theirs, any offer to sell it to them amounted to extortion."

         "Not really...we're offering to sell them the labor that went into creating the village...not the land, and they had nothing to do with the labor."

         "They disagree."

         "Well then, what can I say but that some people have a funny way of looking at the world, you know?  Okay...selling it's off the table.  Other options?"

         No one spoke.

         "Come on, People!  We either cower before them and do as they demand, or make them take it from us and get a bloody nose--in the very best case-- for it.  It falls to us to figure out a way to handle this...preferably one that doesn't involve thousands of deaths over what should be an insignificant speck of land."

         Something about that statement did it.  Like pulling a lever, suddenly everyone had something to say, and the debate raged long into the night, and into the next day...

         OoO

         In the end, what was settled on was an idea brought to the table by two of the fairer folk among us...working with heads together and speaking in low whispers, Sidhe and Kleodora drafted the beginnings of the plan we ultimately used.

         "What if we agree to remove the settlement but make an amendment to our Charter, holding their alliance--and only their alliance--to the same territorial standard as they hold the rest of the world, and to the rest of the world, we'll continue to use our, "claim sov or you don't own it" paradigm?"

         Several sets of eyes poured over maps of the region.  "Well...if Lord Poeme's HighLord will go for it, then Poeme's own expansion plans would have to be shelved...if he has a valid claim on it, then so do our cities of Bounty and Dented...conflicting claims cancel and it's a no man's land."

         The question was...would they accept those terms.

         No one wanted to pick the messenger to ride to the city of Kryptonopolis to find out, because no one wanted to (potentially) sign the poor man's death warrant.

         Ultimately, Velociryx sent one of his own riders with the proposed settlement, and every Lord in the Council Chamber waited on pins and needles to hear back.

         Velociryx gave everyone apartments in the Main Hall to accomodate them for an extended stay, as no one was interested in leaving before understanding what would become of us.

         In six days time, we had our answer, when the messenger burst back into the Hall, alive and well and waving a scroll case in his upraised right hand.  "They said yes!  I have the agreement in writing here!"

         "So, crisis averted then?  They agree to abide by the same restrictions they're holding us to?"

         "Indeed so!  I have a signed charter from their HighLord himself, stating as much!"

         The whole room breathed a sigh of relief, and the current that had kept everyone keyed up for days on end, died as quickly as it had been generated.

         It wasn't perfect, but it was as big a win as could be expected under the circumstances, and certainly better than many of the alternatives we had been dreading, and it earned Ladies Kleodora and Sidhe a standing ovation, and the two beauties, already with no shortage of admirers, got several invitations to the upcoming Christmas Ball on the spot.

         As for me, as soon as I had filed the new treaty away and made the appropriate changes to our Charter, I cornered our HighLord to get his read on things.

         "I wish we could have kept the settlement."  He told me plainly.  "It's not that this is a bad deal, because it isn't, and it's a lot better than we could have been facing if the answer had gone some other direction, but long term, this is going to come up again...it closes off too much of Devil's Island...turns too much of it into an outright dead zone.  Eventually, we'll have to address that."

         "Eventually."  I told him.  "As in...not right now....as in, not before the Christmas Ball."

         He smiled at that and nodded.  "Quite so.  Definitely not before the Christmas Ball, and in truth, this agreement can see us through for quite some time, but the day will come when we'll need to circle back to this....just understand that it's out there...somewhere on the horizon."

         "Understood."  I told him, glad that he was pleased, and grateful that with this event behind us, attention could now turn toward planning this year's Christmas Ball.

         With so many trials and tribulations faced so far, spirits were flagging.  Indeed, Calimba sat like an open sore and took all the joy from the Feast of Thanksgiving, but now...with something we could call a diplomatic win under our belts, and with Calimba slowly recovering from her many wounds, the Christmas Ball was suddenly looking fine indeed.

         ~Scribe

Edited by BlindScribe - 28 Jan 2013 at 19:03 

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BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 13 Dec 2012 at 13:09
	Big Trouble on Little Imp Island There was a current of fear and uncertainty in the Halls of the HighLord. A gauntlet had been thrown down, and it threatened to derail all that we had worked for to this point. A silly thing, really, but it's amazing how sometimes the silliest little things can have consequences that echo through the ages. So it was with the settlement on Imp Island. Imp Island is a less-than-impressive spit of land. A mere speck off the coast of the main island, but blessed with year round good weather, being sheltered from nearly all storms by the protection offered by Thunder Bay (which, I assume, is named as it is to be a joke - like calling a towering giant 'Tiny,' because I've never seen more than the occasional light rain fall across Thunder Bay). In any case, the trouble started when Bezi the Dwarf sought to expand his holdings, and cast his eye toward the tiny, sheltered island. "Fine." The HighLord told him with barely a thought. No Lord in all of Illyriad had laid a sovereign claim to the island, and as far as we were concerned, it was ripe for the taking if we wanted it. So it was that settlers were sent, and industrious Dwarven craftsmen began unloading and duly building a new settlement there. A representative of Lord Poeme, speaking from the city of Kryptonopolis disagreed, and petitioned to his HighLord (ruler of a vast collection of far flung city states with many, many times our scant population and manpower), and made an issue of it. Per their charter, he claimed the land belonged rightfully to him (informal 10-tile Illy convention), and he expressed his desire to eventually build a settlement there himself. War was actually threatened over this tiny speck of green in an otherwise sparkling blue bay, and let us be frank about the matter, this was a contest we could not win, a fact we knew full well, which was the reason for the aforementioned current of tension and fear. "They say war will come if we don't remove the settlement." Timrath told the assembled Council. "I should say that's fairly unequivocal." "Agreed." Velociryx said with his hands on his head. "Not much wiggle room there. Have our brethren in STEEL been contacted?" "Yes, but their answer was most troubling." "What was it?" "They told us to stand down. To cave in and give the Lords of Soon anything they asked for." Velociryx looked stunned, and fell silent. Something cracked and broke loose on his face and in his eyes, just as something had cracked and broken loose in the Covenant of Steel that bound the three alliances (STEEL, REALM, and FORGE) together. "We approach our allies for assistance, in good faith and through proper channels, and THAT is all the reply we get?" No one spoke in answer. "With friends like that, I'm not sure we NEED enemies, you know?" He blew out a frustrated breath. "We can't just cave though, you know? What kind of signal would that send?" There was silence for a long moment. "So...the bottom line is...we're on our own. We've been threatened, our allies refuse to answer our call for aid, and if a solution is to be found, we'll have to do it on our own...our "friends" have left us with our arses hanging out in the wind." "Well," Timrath offered, "We could still force the issue then...if they want it gone that badly, let them take it. We can't expect that anybody would come to our aid, and we would surely lose the contest, but they would not erase us for that one little island, and it would give them a diplomatic black eye to the rest of the world." And that was likely true...a Titan picking on a small child. Still...how much pain could we endure if we chose that path? We were as yet still young and fragile. Too much pressure applied could shatter us completely. A frightening thought. "What if we offer to sell the settlement? Then, everybody has a graceful exit, right? We get to claim we weren't chased off, and they get what they want." "I already approached them with that." Machete said, slamming a massive fist onto the oaken table. "They said since it was rightfully theirs, any offer to sell it to them amounted to extortion." "Not really...we're offering to sell them the labor that went into creating the village...not the land, and they had nothing to do with the labor." "They disagree." "Well then, what can I say but that some people have a funny way of looking at the world, you know? Okay...selling it's off the table. Other options?" No one spoke. "Come on, People! We either cower before them and do as they demand, or make them take it from us and get a bloody nose--in the very best case-- for it. It falls to us to figure out a way to handle this...preferably one that doesn't involve thousands of deaths over what should be an insignificant speck of land." Something about that statement did it. Like pulling a lever, suddenly everyone had something to say, and the debate raged long into the night, and into the next day... OoO In the end, what was settled on was an idea brought to the table by two of the fairer folk among us...working with heads together and speaking in low whispers, Sidhe and Kleodora drafted the beginnings of the plan we ultimately used. "What if we agree to remove the settlement but make an amendment to our Charter, holding their alliance--and only their alliance--to the same territorial standard as they hold the rest of the world, and to the rest of the world, we'll continue to use our, "claim sov or you don't own it" paradigm?" Several sets of eyes poured over maps of the region. "Well...if Lord Poeme's HighLord will go for it, then Poeme's own expansion plans would have to be shelved...if he has a valid claim on it, then so do our cities of Bounty and Dented...conflicting claims cancel and it's a no man's land." The question was...would they accept those terms. No one wanted to pick the messenger to ride to the city of Kryptonopolis to find out, because no one wanted to (potentially) sign the poor man's death warrant. Ultimately, Velociryx sent one of his own riders with the proposed settlement, and every Lord in the Council Chamber waited on pins and needles to hear back. Velociryx gave everyone apartments in the Main Hall to accomodate them for an extended stay, as no one was interested in leaving before understanding what would become of us. In six days time, we had our answer, when the messenger burst back into the Hall, alive and well and waving a scroll case in his upraised right hand. "They said yes! I have the agreement in writing here!" "So, crisis averted then? They agree to abide by the same restrictions they're holding us to?" "Indeed so! I have a signed charter from their HighLord himself, stating as much!" The whole room breathed a sigh of relief, and the current that had kept everyone keyed up for days on end, died as quickly as it had been generated. It wasn't perfect, but it was as big a win as could be expected under the circumstances, and certainly better than many of the alternatives we had been dreading, and it earned Ladies Kleodora and Sidhe a standing ovation, and the two beauties, already with no shortage of admirers, got several invitations to the upcoming Christmas Ball on the spot. As for me, as soon as I had filed the new treaty away and made the appropriate changes to our Charter, I cornered our HighLord to get his read on things. "I wish we could have kept the settlement." He told me plainly. "It's not that this is a bad deal, because it isn't, and it's a lot better than we could have been facing if the answer had gone some other direction, but long term, this is going to come up again...it closes off too much of Devil's Island...turns too much of it into an outright dead zone. Eventually, we'll have to address that." "Eventually." I told him. "As in...not right now....as in, not before the Christmas Ball." He smiled at that and nodded. "Quite so. Definitely not before the Christmas Ball, and in truth, this agreement can see us through for quite some time, but the day will come when we'll need to circle back to this....just understand that it's out there...somewhere on the horizon." "Understood." I told him, glad that he was pleased, and grateful that with this event behind us, attention could now turn toward planning this year's Christmas Ball. With so many trials and tribulations faced so far, spirits were flagging. Indeed, Calimba sat like an open sore and took all the joy from the Feast of Thanksgiving, but now...with something we could call a diplomatic win under our belts, and with Calimba slowly recovering from her many wounds, the Christmas Ball was suddenly looking fine indeed. ~Scribe Edited by BlindScribe - 28 Jan 2013 at 19:03

BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 13 Dec 2012 at 16:00
	Escape Attempt 2.0 The world was all hazy light and noise and confusion. I did not know where I was, but I surely wished that the screaming would stop. It took me the span of several heartbeats to realize that this, at least, was (or should have been) under my control, as the screaming was issuing from my tortured throat. Still, even knowing this fact and consciously trying to quiet my own ragged voice accomplished nothing at all. It hurt...Gods but it hurt, and my body seemed to have a mind of its own. It wanted to scream, and scream it did. There were other sounds besides. Voices, though I couldn't make sense of the words at the time. "Hold him...hold him! Ahhhh Christ, cut it! No no, that one! " "I've got him...I've...arrrrrgh!" "Here comes another swarm...make ready!" Blackness. OoO Several Days Earlier I told you I was going to try to leave this place, and I'm an Elf of my word, although I confess that I am conflicted by that decision. On the one hand, it's not hard to fall in love with this place. With the harsh and unforgiving nature of the land. With the fact that you can never quite let your guard down, or Kumala herself is likely to rise up and try to kill you, and then of course, there's the place's natural beauty. Such beauty as you northern folk simply have no words for, and could never imagine. It's awe inspiring, it truly is. Then of course, there's the Christmas Ball to consider. I'm excited about that and want to attend. On the other hand, I cannot shake the feeling that the land is cursed, and by extension, any who dwell here are also cursed. A beautiful prison is still, at the end of its day, a prison, and I wanted out of my cage and off the island. I wanted that badly enough to risk life and limb to attempt it. Again. Knowing full well what had happened the last time I'd tried (the finally tally where the shipwreck was concerned was 86 dead, by the way). I informed my HighLord of my intentions and told him that if I made it off the island, I'd appoint a second here, and rule in absentia, and he was fine with that. I think he was curious too, though I suppose he could have been humoring me. There was something in his eyes, however, that said maybe he felt vaguely trapped also. Most curious, but of course, I did not ask him about it. In any case, he offered to see me to the coast, expecting, I think that it would just be the two of us, but his Court was as loyal as they were protective, and those who were in the Council Chamber when I made my announcement (the Orc Prince 'Waz,' Lady Kleodora, Machete, and the Finn) all agreed that it was much too dangerous to go as a pair, and volunteered to accompany us. So it was that we all set out, striking a path that led northward and east from Cerilon to the Hermitage, from there to Argenia, and thence to the small but quite serviceable port at Vestford (Velocirix finally having acquired a proper port situated toward the mainland). The only part of the journey that was expected to be even passingly dangerous was the last leg from Argenia to Vestford, because a proper road had not yet been constructed to connect the two, but by now, we were all old hands at this. We all knew Kumala well and felt that she had few (if any) surprises left in her. How mistaken we were! Nonetheless, this is the mindset each of us had as we left the great city of our HighLord and rode northward, and the weather was fine indeed! Only in the mid 80's and the humidity was tolerable. Not a cloud in the sky, when we could see the sky, of course...a simply stunning day, and our spirits were high. They were high on the second day as well. And the third, when we reached the Hermitage. They continued to be high, and the weather strangely held until we reached Argenia. (OOC: Picture is on the approach to Vestford, which can JUST be seen peeking thru the growth) It even held a while longer than that, letting us get about halfway to Vestford before She (meaning here, Kumala herself) turned on us. Passing near to a low, weathered mountain called Coral (both because it appears to be made of coral, and because the trees around it are heavily infested with a kind of snake bearing that same name), the snakes began to....well, to be honest, at first it was hard to say what they were doing. Attacking us, was my first thought, and there were thousands of them. They wriggled and writhed and slithered out of the densest part of the jungle and made straight for us. Of course, I think subconsciously we had all been expecting something (and at least in my particular case, there was nothing subconscious about it--I was convinced that our luck would not hold...that the island would actively try to prevent us from leaving), and now, here it was. Snakes by the thousand, pouring out of the thickest growth and making for us. We all drew steel and lit fires, but here's the thing: When dealing with thousands of individuals in a swarm, these implements are nigh on useless. Something is bound to get through whatever defense you can erect, and so it was here. What was both puzzling and troubling though, was that the snakes did not seem to care about us either way. They were... Oh Gods they were fleeing. Running away from something worse, which meant... I shouted for my companions and turned to face the direction that the snakes were coming from full on, straining to see what might be coming through all that impossibly dense growth but it was just no good, there was.... ...movement! Yes, there on the left! I could have sworn I saw.... That's when the vine hit me like a bullwhip. "Melders!" Someone screamed, and that seemed as good an explanation as any. Some form of elemental earth magic was animating the vines, and not just any vine...oh no. Whatever force was behind this was specifically animating Devil's Vine. A tendril as thick as my thumb wrapped itself around my throat and began pulling tight even as I thought this, and I could see that it was fairly bleeding its cursed sap... That's when the pain hit. More vines encircled my legs and the knees and pulled me to the ground. "Help!" I cried..."I need he..." My words were choked off as another vine forced its way into my mouth. I felt spores bursting and knew I was done for. Then...blackness. Then, after a time, that hazy, confused light I mentioned before. Screams and desperate shouts and voices before the blackness claimed me again. Stormbind, of course. It had to be. OoO I dreamt, and in my dream, the Heart of Corruption spoke to me. Told me that I had been marked. Branded by the land itself, and I was to wear the mark with pride. That I would wake from my sleep soon, and would know pain for the rest of my days. It would serve as a reminder that I belonged here now. To Kumala. That's when I realized that Kumala was not land...or rather, was not merely land, but a part of something else. Some great beast that we could not completely see, and could only comprehend as...this. This place. And if that were true (if my fevered dream/vision could be trusted in the least), then maybe the Heart of Corruption was an actual organ of sorts. Maybe it was really...literally the beating heart of Kumala, and as such, perhaps it wasn't corrupt in the least, at least not from her point of view. True, maybe it "corrupted" the land we lived on, but if the land was merely a metaphor for some larger, greater entity, then the corruption was just a shadow of the metaphor. Not real. I understood then. Had a moment of perfect, blissful clarity about what Kumala was, why we could not leave (and shouldn't want to), what the Melders actually were, and why they were so dreadfully important to us all, and I knew that when I awoke, the clarity would be gone and I'd be just as confused about it all as I had been before the dream. Just as in the dark. One thing I did know, however, and knew that I'd remember later, was the Devil's Vine. When the Heart of Corruption began spreading, that's how it did it. It "took control of" Devil's Vine and made it grow even faster than the stuff did naturally. The two were...linked somehow. I knew that, even if I might be a bit hazy on the particulars. Still, that was important, wasn't it? I thought so. I still do. OoO True to her (Kumala's) word, I hurt everywhere when I awoke. So did the others, but of all of us, I had gotten received the worst treatment at the hands of the animated Devil's Vine (the Heart of Corruption, I told myself). Anywhere the vines had touched, they burned, and anywhere they burned, they left a scar. The scars stood out starkly on my pale Elven skin, and I looked rather like a monster. I've never been an especially vain sort, but why did it have to be my face?! I was dismayed, but Waz came to my rescue, and pulled me out of my sorrow. He said it would hurt some, but only briefly, and when he was done, I'd bear my new scars proudly. I asked him what he meant and he explained. When he did, I agreed, and that is how I (an Elf) came to have tattoos of Orcish design on my face. They cover the scars, and I bear them (thank you, Waz!) and the marks of Kumala with pride now, as I shall for the rest of my days. The healers of the HighLord tell me that I'll be able to get out of bed in another day or two, and that is good. The angry redness will have gone out of skin around my new tattoos, and I should present quite a striking picture at the Christmas Ball. Maybe Kleo and Sidhe will dance with me. I think I'd rather enjoy that. Dancing with Angels. For now then, I will get these words into the hands of those that can get them to you, and rest. Know this: Having tried once more to leave, and having been marked for my efforts, I'm convinced. I have forgotten most of what came to me in my fevered dream, but not all, and I will not try to leave this land again. A storm's coming, and we must, each of us, decide how we'll react when it arrives. What we'll do. As for me...I'm staying right here. Right where I belong. ~Scribe OOC: The Author, Standing on a Balcony in Cerilon Edited by BlindScribe - 13 Dec 2012 at 17:15

BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 13 Dec 2012 at 17:22
	The Christmas Ball Ahhh...what can one say about the annual Yule Ball? A fine tradition by any reckoning, and ours had been weeks in the planning, but here's the thing, and a topic I suspect we'll be wrestling with for years to come. The sorry truth of it is that Kumala is an unforgiving bitch of a Mother. She's a hard, brutal land, and as such, the fairer sex tend to shy away from her, preferring to keep their lands in climes that take less effort to wrestle to the ground and bend to their will. For this reason, our Balls were always something of a tense, lonesome affair. Sure, there are no shortage of fair maids from the local townships, and these very definitely get invited, but nothing glitters in the night quite like a highborn Lady wearing her very finest, jewels glittering and hair dressed as she takes a turn around the dance floor...these are the Angels of the Evening, and the competition for their attention is fierce indeed, even to the point of death, though this is rare. Still, it's truer than true that not a Ball comes and goes without things coming to blows or blades at some point in the evening, with first blood generally (but as I say, not always) deciding the matter. This year was...different. Different in ways I struggle to define, and I'm not talking about the new additions to my face. We had come through, you know? In many ways, there was a sense of...not merely survival, but of arrival. We'd had our first diplomatic crisis, and it didn't blow up in our faces or kill us, and it could have. We all understood that it could have. So there was that, but it wasn't just that. There was also a sense of taming this Great Beast of a land, and in that, enormous strides had been made. The Devil's Road, once a deadly shortcut taken at one's own risk, was now more like the Devil's Highway, with paved lanes and heavy traffic (a fairly even mix of foot, wagon, and horse), and the jungle was beaten and cut and burnt back on a constant basis to keep it from encroaching too heavily on our civilized areas. At last survey, there were in the neighborhood of sixty cities on Devil's Island, and more than half belonged to members of our proud Alliance. Nearly 90% belonged to us, or members of our extended alliance family, so there was much to be proud of by way of accomplishments so far. Even better, with less than twenty members, and only three quarters of a million people under our banner, we had managed to scrape and claw our way from 101st place on the King's Roster of Noble Houses to 53rd, and in a very short time, at that. Our rise was nothing short of meteoric, and we had just (for the first time ever) taken our place as the highest ranked of the three alliances in our alliance family (consisting of [REALM], [STEEL], and [FORGE]). These were good things. These were big, important milestones for us, and the future was bright indeed. This was the spirit that so infused the Christmas Ball. That sense of momentum. Of purpose. Of not merely waiting for Fate to hand down this or that decree about our futures, but rather, boldly striding out to meet it. To work it with our hands, wrestle it to the ground if needs be, and truly make it our own. We were the little alliance that could, and there was a bounce in our collective step because of it. The Ball was all glitter and light, and although it was not cold, I had my Court Mages summon snow as we gathered around our Christmas tree in the courtyard of the Main Hall. It lasted about an hour, then melted away...claimed by the thirsty Goddess, Kumala, and when it did, we retired inside for an evening of dancing and feasting and song. A beautiful, glorious night, and we all danced the tribal dance (fittingly enough, simply called 'Come Kumala'), and our Angels of the Ball were gracious and took the time to dance with each of the men of the Court. Kleodora even complimented me on my tattoos, putting me at ease about them and telling me they made me look savage and roguish, and that she very much approved. After blushing an even deeper shade of scarlet than the ink on my face, I murmured my thanks, and she spun off to dance with another. I caught sight of an intoxicated Velociryx...our HighLord, dancing atop one of the feasting tables late in the evening after our meals had been long cleared. Shirtless, I could plainly see the ropy scars that seemed to grasp toward his heart, thought about Kumala and her Heart, even as we danced the dance called 'Come Kumala,' and wondered for the thousandth time at what power this land...this fierce goddess had over us, and what she ultimately had in store for us. But mostly, I lost myself in the moment and danced with our assembled host. There was life here, and love and family. There was purpose here, and the land itself seemed to be calling out to all of us, both to whisper in our ears about the trials and dangers ahead, and also, to embrace us. To welcome us home. Come Kumala, it seemed to whisper. Dance. And we did. ~Scribe Merry Christmas from all of us in [REALM!] Edited by BlindScribe - 14 Dec 2012 at 01:12

BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 13 Dec 2012 at 18:24
	This will, in all probability, be my last addition to this story in 2012. With Christmas fast approaching, I wanted to spend a good, solid day to get the story where I wanted it...wrap up a few loose ends, and start gearing up for the next "phase" of the tale. So far, if you've been journeying with me from the start, we've covered some 23k words together (for the purposes of comparison, your average novel has ~100k words in it, so we're about a quarter of that), and have seen the alliance grow from a sleepy little backwater to...well, perhaps not a powerful group, precisely, but getting there. Getting there right quickly, I'd say. In any case, there are a number of interesting possibilities as we move into the new year, and I don't have any more idea what will happen than you (though I've likely got at least a few more insights...or at least, I'd better! ;) ), but...whatever happens, we'll go there together! Thank you for traveling with me this far, Merry Christmas, and here's hoping I see you at back here at the start of the new year! As a Christmas Present, I've brought the blog fully up to date, and have included about a dozen different songs so you've got a "soundtrack" to enjoy while you're reading. The music files are high compression ogg files, so if you don't see the media player, try switching to the Chrome browser (the page has been optimized for Chrome). Music is very much a part of my creative process, and I thought it'd be interesting to treat you to the songs running thru my head as I wrote various bits (mostly, relevant to the story, too!). So...I get to combine good rock and roll with fantasy, and what's not to like about that! (track list to date is below the graphic) - Enjoy! ~Scribe http://badcompany.develsworkshop.com/ Track List So Far: Track 1, Bad Company (Bad Company) Track 2, Fortunate Son (CCR) Track 3, Superstition (the version by Beck, Bogart & Appice) (Scribe's suspicions of Vel, Chimera, etc) Track 4, Sympathy for the Devil (Stones) Track 5, Highway to Hell (AC/DC) (Devil's Road!) Track 6, Good Intentions (Toad The Wet Sprocket) Track 7, Your Disease (Saliva) (Melder's stuff) Track 8, Abracadabra (Steve Miller) (thought this was fitting re: the misfired spell & Hargreves :) ) Track 9, Thunderstruck (AC/DC) Track 10, Carry On, Wayward Son (Kansas) Track 11, Red Neck Yacht Club (Craig Morgan) (our "Swampers"!) Track 12, Honest Mistake (The Bravery) - Our diplo "incident" Track 13, Don't Fear the Reaper (Blue Oyster Cult) - escape attempt 2.0 Track 14, Come and Get Your Love (Redbone) - Come Kumala! Merry Christmas!! Edited by BlindScribe - 13 Dec 2012 at 18:24

Machete Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 15 Jun 2012 Location: Koz Status: Offline Points: 172	Posted: 14 Dec 2012 at 00:25
	Velo, Your story writing is fantastic. More important, you are the best alliance leader I have had the honor of serving with. Machete/ChampChimp

BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 14 Dec 2012 at 01:16
	Thank you sir, but the honor has been mine. I don't know 'bout you, but I can hardly WAIT to see what happens next in our shared story. Whatever comes...it's gonna be pure awesome. :)

BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 14 Dec 2012 at 12:09
	Raiders! The music died as a breathless messenger burst in on the festivities. "It's Cloudpeak, sir!" He said with a trembling voice. "They spotted some raiders in the Dyallom Gall patch...scouts are riding ahead of a squad sent out by the First Expeditionary to see if we can learn the identity of the raiders before blood is spilled." Murmurs went up all around the chamber. The Dyallom patch was sovereign territory. We claimed that land. We owned that land, and everyone in the area knew it full well. "So this is deliberate then." Machete said, cracking his knuckles. "Very well." Kleodora put a staying hand on the Dwarf's shoulder. "Let us not be too hasty...we do not yet know where they came from." And that was true enough for the moment. But we would know, and when we did... When we did, it would change a great many things... A second gauntlet had been formally thrown down. ~Scribe Edited by BlindScribe - 28 Jan 2013 at 18:54

BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 25 Jan 2013 at 18:01
	The Covenant is Broken I have never seen a more fearsome look in our Highlord's eyes, and he was not alone. Every lord from every Noble House in our alliance was behind him, all with steely gazes and looks of disgust on their faces. The emissary from STEEL pressed on, undaunted, apparently not realizing how close he was to death. "...my Master bids that you begin these war preparations at once." "But your Master refuses to even tell us who we'll be fighting, where, on what terrain, or even why?" The weasel-faced Diplomat sneered. "That's on a need to know basis, I'm afraid, and you don't need to know. All you need to do is what you're told. Begin preparations at once!" "We will do no such thing." Velociryx told him flatly. "First, if it's our men to bleed and die on some field of battle far from home, yes we damned well do need to know the reasons why. Second, it wasn't very long ago that right here on these shores we faced almost certain extinction, and do you know what happened?" The diplomat looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Damn your hide, you will answer when spoken to! Do you know what happened when we faced the full fury of a demigod right here on these shores?" "I....well, there were extenuating..." "Don't." Velociryx told him with venom in his voice. "Don't even say it. What happened was...members of our own confederation SIDED WITH OUR ENEMIES! They refused...flatly refused to stand with us, and now...oh now when our men and materials are needed, now we're expected to jump to without so much as a question or a raised eyebrow. Where were you when we needed your help? Where were you then?" "I...well...that is we..." "Exactly." Machete rumbled as he cracked his kunckles. "I think you have your answer." Timrath said from over Machete's head. "And I don't think you'll be getting your army from here. Well....you may be getting the business end if you're not careful, but I don't think that's quite what you had in mind." Vel looked over at Renn. "Are the Jaguars ready to march?" "At a moment's notice!" He said proudly. "And our corps of Assassins and other assorted Ruffians?" There were other nods from the assembled Lords. "Kleo...does this man before you look like a demigod?" She tried valiantly, but ultimately failed to hide her smirk. "He does not, My Lord." "No...he most certainly does not. And given that we stood completely alone facing the full fury of a demigod's wrath this past Christmas and managed to come through that unscathed, I think we'll be fine against the likes of this one here." "Watch yourself, Highlord! My Master wields the ancient Axe of the Dwarven Kings, and will not...." Our Highlord silenced the man with a sharp gesture of one hand and his lips flatted to a harsh, thin line slashed across his face. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, and I've never heard anything more deadly in all my years in Elgea. "Now you listen to me, cur, and you listen well. Over the last two months, my People and I have discovered a new, living Goddess in Illyriad....we have personally met and spoken with the Goddess Kumala. We have stared down the fury of a demigod and faced almost certain destruction at his hands, and we did so with our so-called 'allies' lining up against us. Frankly, I don't give a rat's arse if your Master wields his blessed mother's brassier as a sling, the fact is, you'll be getting no forces from us to persue a war you plan to leave us in the dark about till the last possible moment, and because you saw fit to leave us in the wind and facing certain destruction, you have broken the covenant with us. You sir...not us. And now that is is broken, there's no un-breaking it, do you understand that? We are done with you." The man stood there for a long moment, looking mightily distressed and not knowing what to do...how to proceed. A part of me felt for him. "Bezi." "Yes, My Lord?" "If this man does not take his leave of us in the next span of heartbeats, I want you to behead him and send his head back to his 'Master' in a rosewood box." "With pleasure, My Lord." He cracked his knuckles in a fashion not unlike Machete, and took a menacing step forward. The diplomat let out a thin, girlish wail and bolted for the nearest exit, leaving a collection of grim faced Lords of the REALM staring after him. In a moment, they all let out a collective sigh. "Well...we've really gone and done it now, haven't we?" "Aye...that we have." What a strange couple of months it had been. It will be my honor, duty, and pleasure to fill in the gaps between the Christmas Ball and the item above, but for now, the duties of my Station call. I'll write more if we survive the night. ~Your Humble Scribe Edited by BlindScribe - 25 Jan 2013 at 19:46

BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 28 Jan 2013 at 19:05
	Another story segment will be coming soon...for the moment, I have added back a "deleted scene" from the chapter "Big Trouble on Imp Island" to more accurately reflect the diplomatic climate during that incident. Apologies that we could not reveal it sooner, but events with STEEL were still unfolding and it would not have been appropriate to reveal it at that time. Now, however, is the proper time, so the scene was duly put back. ~Scribe

BlindScribe Members Profile Send Private Message Find Members Posts Add to Buddy List Wordsmith Joined: 12 Sep 2012 Status: Offline Points: 168	Posted: 28 Jan 2013 at 20:43
	The Problem with Demigods.... So there we were at the Christmas Ball, with the cries of "Raiders!" still echoing 'round the room. All thoughts of festivities came to an end, and all the Lords and Ladies of the REALM retired to their apartments in the Great Hall of Cerilon to await word. Odds were that it was simple theivery, but understand...to a trade based alliance such as ours, an attack on trading resources is every bit as hurtful as an assault on the main gates. Besides that, our Dyallom Gall patch produced more revenue in a month than many smaller alliances received in total, from all their cities combined, so this was a fairly big deal for us. We'd never had a sovereign violation before, and we didn't quite know what to make of it, or even how to respond. The action was unquestionably hostile, as our borders were well known and well established. What did it mean? The troubling thought was that it could be the opening shot in a broader invasion of the island. Disrupt the flow of goods and money, then land the troops. Unlikely, true, but we had to consider it. For the moment though, all we could do was wait, and let me assure you, the wait was an agony! At length though, word came back, and our attackers had indeed been identified. It was none other than our sometimes contentious neighbor, the demigod Zolvon! (ooc: description taken from his profile page). As the son of a minor love goddess, and keeper of the Sword of the Pleades, Zolvon simply did not obey or abide by the normal conventions of men. It was even possible that he did not understand what "borders" were...at least not in the sense that we humans, elves, and orcs did. We knew then, based on our prior history with him (the tensions over the 20-food tile near Parthaway, previously written about), that we had to act quickly and decisivly. "Clearly, he's a menace." Timrath said matter-of-factly. "We can't have random demigods taipsing through our sovereign territory, especially when they or their minions tear up sites of such economic value as the one we nearly lost." "And we may yet lose it." Renn said darkly. "It remains to be seen if we stopped them before irreparable harm was done...only time will bear that out." "I observed something of note." Juggernaught (one of our newly arrived Lords of the Realm) offered." All eyes turned his direction. "There was a rare herb patch on the side of the mountain he lays claim too....my scouts inform me that it's now gone." "So...what? You're thinking he mismanaged his and figured he'd go find one somewhere else, and never mind if it's in someone else's territory?" Juggernaught shrugged. "I don't pretend to know how a demigod thinks...just putting it out there." And it was as likely a scenario as any, we supposed. "Only one solution." Velociryx said finally. "All this conjecture is nice, but it doesn't actually get us anywhere." "What's your plan?" Bezi asked, coming in with an enormous leg of lamb, still dripping with grease. He took a huge bite out of it and chomped merrily as he waited for an answer to his question. "Delicious." He said, his words barely intelligible for all the food. "My compliments to the chef." (which came out sounding a bit like "my comumphs a chuf" or something close-ish to that) Velociryx shook his head. "I'll leave at first light tomorrow. Ride down to KV and see if I can convince him to stay the hell off our land." "This isn't the first run in we've had with him." Machete said darkly. "How many second chances are we going to give this character? There's the matter of the grain fields practically on top of Parthaway that he holds sway over...the fact that he turned hostile during trade negotiations, and now this. Can we afford such an obviously hostile neighbor? Can we risk it?" That raised a number of eyebrows and the debate raged through most of the evening. *** At the end, it was decided (with a fair amount of trepidation) that no...we couldn't risk it. Zolvon had a track record with us. One of hostility and suspicion and now, it seemed to have escalated for reasons not known (and perhaps not even knowable) to us. One of us had to go. We had dozens of cities on the island, and he had one. That made the calculus pretty simple in our minds. "Very well." Velociryx told the assembled Lords. "A slight change in plans...rather than riding to see if he even understands why we're upset, I ride now to deliver an ultimatum. We will tolerate no further incursions. We offer to buy the city from beneath his feet and build him a new one somewhere else, or...we take it from him. One way or the other though...it's now clear that we cannot remain neighbors." Velociryx rode. This was a first for us. War? Would it really come to war? Gods and Saints.