FSTGOD 3 Game Thread

[Dark Silver]

Southern Border of Korlech

Those who populated the region consumed by the Ilithian Empire felt the waves of magickally produced fear and awe as the Dracoliche guarded airships fly past. The ships themselves were a awesome sight, massive black hulls streamlined for air travel, a violet glow of energy in wake of thier carthedin crystal tubes fading as the ships passed.

The small expanse of land which seperated the Ilithid's and their nothern neighbors were already being swallow up below them, fortresses were being hastily constructed, necroweavers building raising outrunner walls from the bones of the earth, ripping them away as it where, while slaves began building the internal structures.

Belt'hass the Harrower watched all this from his commandship as it traveled to Korlech. Already, he could sense the smaller necromantic state preparing thier armies. The scout drake he sent out earlier reported a large massing of their forces near the Southern Border.

The airships would strike there, let the world tremble in fear as the Ilithian Empire began to expand again.

-------

Netherese Border

The messenger's black carriage came to a halt as it neared the Netheresian border station.

The driver announced himself, "The Ilithian Empire sends the most honorable ambassador Fessss'tah-jut with a message for the Netheres People."

[frigidmagi]

Greltian stalked out of the "special" wing of the palace where the PriestKing's newest "guest" were. It helped to think of them as diplomats but they were still a damn odd and forsaken bunch.

It didn't matter. He guestured to the Sky Guard Captain who attended him.

"News came in. We're going to have to send more Sky Guard out. Take these written insturctions to the Griff Tower. Tell Major Sir Isitian my commliments and to perpare his unit for flight. It's all in the written breif." He said.

"Yes Sir... Sir is it true what they say about those...people?" The Sky Guard asked.

"What do 'they' say Captain?"

"That they smell... Odd Sir." The Captain admitted.

Greltian sighed. You couldn't keep military men from gossiping amongst themselves, they were worst then old women.

"Never you mind how they smell, that's the Sea Guard's problem, they're guarding them, not you. Keep it quiet and get to your task." He said, feeling like a dayminder priestess instead of a general. The Captain gulped and nodded.

[Rogue 9]

The Eirish ships were within sight of a port city at last. Signal flags were run up, requesting permission to make berth.

[Masterharper]

Near the Lone Mountain (McKinzey)
South of the Morsum

Five days of marching had been under way since the gathered 'expidition' to the Sacred Mountain had begun. The small mixed force--led by Manevius and Korsius--had been experiencing overcast weather, with a few flurries. Nothing new, and nothing of a bother to any of the races among them, as such the Aurora magi present did not concern themselves with expending the effort to alter the weather. After all, they liked snow. However, It was on this, the fifth day, that the clouds parted, and the snow relented. In the distance, wearing a tiara of cloudy white upon it's peak, the Sacred Mountain loomed. Manevius stopped in his tracks, and cheered, as fortune would have it this event occured as they were cresting a tree-bare hill. "HaHA!" Almost mocking the great distant peak. His ice-giant counterpart, however, continued walking, thudding along though the cold evergreens. They would reach the mountain tomorrow, sometime in the morning.

Gilidae: Holy Island Town.
Helalsius had arrived just yesterday evening. She had immediately ordered her personal scribes to work, copying, detailing, and recording the various treaties of late. They would be considered monumental in Morkan history--at least to her. She herself had several 'affairs of state' to see to, things which the great bear priestess had little desire to deal with, but were of utmost importance. Lumber had been shipped and was being stockpiled in the far southeast of the realm, and construction on the human-habitable trading city. Helalsius was expected to approve preliminary plans for the town. Being no architect she simply has a say in placement, and the lavishness of their own temple to be constructed there: an unintimidating simple affair. A several buildings of moderate size was also to be allocated to the Koronan, for their own purposes--religious or not. Construction would begin soon in earnest, and she expected the cabins and storage buildings to be done before the spring thaw. She also had wished to meet with the neighboring Water Walkers, simply to discuss events at length with them.

Of course, she still needed to teach a vew advanced Aurora magics to some of her promising students. That would have to wait, as Hafuga and Lyngbakr had sent word that she was to meet with them. The bear sighs, a deep and growling noise; dismissing her scribes with a gesture, Helalsius decided saving this for a later time may be wise. When a few of her more advanced disciples mastered the greater aspects of Helyanwey, she would deputize some of her duties to them.

[frigidmagi]

The Eirish ships were within sight of a port city at last. Signal flags were run up, requesting permission to make berth.

The return signal for permission granted was given. The docks were made clear for the host of men and dwarves inbound.

[SirNitram]

Netherese Border

The messenger's black carriage came to a halt as it neared the Netheresian border station.

The driver announced himself, "The Ilithian Empire sends the most honorable ambassador Fessss'tah-jut with a message for the Netheres People."

"Sorry, y'lordship, but the Capital has recently departed teleport range. Off on a survey of the Northeastern region of the continent, as I hear tell." The Captain of the station saluted the carriage. "We'll arrange transport to New Seventon for you and your party, sir. We can send ahead to arrange whatever luxuries you and your party will require."

-------

"How is it that the people know of an ambassador before I do, Valeron?" Malkamar mused as he looked into the crystal. "Still. I'm not surprised the followers of Dahhok are upset. I'm upset. They're fucking snakes. Even elves are close enough to human. But snakes? Well. Lose him in te paperwork for as long as you can. We'll be in touch."

Paltar floated several miles up, drifting along the southern coast.

[Agent Fisher]

"The first convoy has been dispatched to the Netheresian nation. Now our merchants and traders will not be silent about demanding a port of our own to ship their goods to other nations." Said Aldara.

Taldarin sighed. He shook his head. "Do they understand that if we do get them a port, that we won't be able to give them a navy to protect them for a good stretch of time."

"They know. But they still demand that we move the army, take a port, and also have a navy ready to protect them." Replied Aldara.

"They are fools. But, we might as well get started. Prepare the army. I will take half of them and give those merchants their port," Taldarin stated. "If there is no other business, I declare this council session closed."

After the meeting, the orders where sent, and half the army began preparing to move out.

[The Silence and I]

In the waters near Gilidae

Several Skarklagger approached the island held by the Morkan. The news received from the Nithgaard might interest their neighbors and the chiefs had requested this be passed on.

Besides, it never hurt to become more familiar with potential friends.

Ambassador Shemnolld was with the group; for the time being few could speak the tongue of these great bears, and sending her was a small token of trust and good intentions, or so Adviser Lymnno'kitcha had said. Three lithe and colorful creatures would soon be spotted nearing the shore and bearing white cloths.

Floating somewhere in the Northern Sea

Chief Mauloullrye was troubled. Chief Dollindereum had recently spoken to him, casually, of how these were new and exciting times. "Our world is changing" he had said. Alone out in the endless blue-gray waters he couldn't stop turning those words over in his mind. Already things were happening that had never happened before. Are we going too quickly? Mauloullrye hadn't noticed before, but something was tugging at him. A bad feeling he couldn't shake. And now the Nithgaard tells us of war in the South. Could there be a worse time to reveal our presence? Their own scouts had noticed unusual fleet movements around what their maps called the Koronan Empire, but this information was many days old and incomplete. For now we rely on you, Æthelmearc, for most of our knowledge. We are small, and cannot see the world except in the smallest of pieces. Elemental Lord Haukjanin had said this would change. Already it was, but the Skarklagger tribes were so small, even enormous growth would leave them behind. Dollindereum had mentioned he was sending messengers to the Nithgaard, maybe they would return with more knowledge of this world and all its pieces. Mauloullrye hoped so.

[Masterharper]

Gilidae
As it stood, Helalsius herself had been out on the water at the island. She stood on bridge of ice leading out into the water. One she had, herself, created. In the reasonably clam but cold seas next to her, Hafuga and Lyngbakr--the two Kraken--floated gently, a single gigantic eye of each of the beasts locked on her. They stood in silent conversation, a mental chat of sorts. Helalsius looks toward the Skarklagger emmisaries, as though her attention had been directed to them, then begins waving congenially. The two sea-beasts disappear, and the bear drops to all fours, her ice bridge dropping a few chunks into the sea. Beckoning to the group of her neighbors, she begins walking back toward shore: the magical ice would disappate soon.

[The Silence and I]

Gilidae
As fascinating as the two huge sea creatures were, the enormous bear had beckoned the Skarklaggers and they couldn't investigate. Accelerating they darted toward the shore, fully exiting the water much like penguins.

Lymnno'kitcha leading, the three approach the great bear with somewhat subdued motions and steady gazes, as well as few odd movements which to the Skarklagger symbolize respect. Lymnno'kitcha speaks with only a few short pauses--she has been practicing this tongue lately: "We come with news of the world from from far away, great Helalsius."

[Lia]

Esuun had dreamed, and the dreams had been unclear. There would be great dealings in the lands beyond Ehk'reh'tehk, this It had known. There would be peril to Its children, this had been clear. The small missions to find beings from beyond the borders, to protect Its children, had been begun too small, too late...

The T'eseh who carried Its mark had moved into other Citidels of Light, that messages move swifter than the Shkh’khen could fly them, more surely.

Esuun itself was ancient, as old as the Gar'lar'andh. It feared not for itself, but for its children, for the flesh-beasts who served them in return for protection, for the sacred breeding grounds themselves.

--Citidel of Meren, Eastern Coast--

Meren stood tall upon the raft as it bobbed upon the waves, confident in the simple platform of reeds. His richly green flesh glistened in the morning light, the wavelets reflecting upon it, as he hefted the offering, shewed it to the Rising Sun, then let his voice rise with it. The last of the Chant of Awakening trilled out over the sparkling waters as the Sun finally pulled free of the waves, and the great bundle of sweet fruits were tossed out upon the water.

Pomegranites and oranges, limes and grapes, bobbed for a while. Otherwise, the air was still. Meren, leaflets spread in a fan about him, remained patient. His gold-on-scarlet eyes focused on the waters, ear-fans spread wide in expectation.

Those on the shore, watching the solitary figure, didn't dare murmer among themselves, save his Voice. He, voice a smooth tenor that could quite nearly warble out the Gar tongue, murmered the doubt the others felt: could the Sarghass have forgotten us in our time of need?

What the watchers couldn't see, what Meren couldn't miss, was a sudden stirring of the waters as great scarlet and green tentacles snatched up the offering, pulling it down so swiftly they left bubbles in their wake. The raft pitched, but Meren held his balance.

The onlookers saw a wobble in the little male, and then, abruptly, he was swallowed in mist. Meren's Voice made a soft, panicked sound, but one of the Gar who knew the T'eseh's tongue patted his sholder, broke silence to murmer the churrups of a reassurance. This was a sign of the Sarghass' blessing.

Several minutes passed, then the mists cleared and the water stirred slightly, ever so faintly rocking Meren's raft as he came back into view. The Gar moved slightly, and his raft returned to shore with him as though of its own accord. He stepped lightly onto the sands, met by eager servants, and the silence of his own people. The T'eseh were always far more talkative than the Gar themselves. He ignored their multitude of questions, allowed himself to be escorted back to the citidel. Only then did he make known what would pass. His Voice stood at his side, repeating for those T'eseh who could not understand so well the Songs of the Gar tongue.

"The Sarghass hath agreed to ward our southern shores! Rejoice not yet, for there is much beneath the sun, and though our Guardian hath been sure in years past, this is a peril beyond our ken. Erenei, together we must stand, and be prepared to fight to keep our haven, our home!"

There were faint murmers of disbelief, this time in the churrups of the Gar as well. The Sarghass not sufficient? That ancient protector of the great Waters too weak against a foe? How could that be? But Meren was wise, child-direct of Esunn Itself, and they would not doubt his word too openly.

The Ear of Esunn amongst the rabble of brightly clad elves could feel a faint touch of unease, as though the chill that menaced the Eldest touched the humble elf as well.

--Southern Shore of Ehk'reh'tehk--

Seluni could have disappeared amidst the gathered Seedless warriors, if not for its' diaphanous robes, incongruous amongst the otherwise unclad people. It had been long since It had left the keep of the Selunites, longer since a threat such as this had touched the land. The silver threads mingled in those gauzy blue robes twinkled like starlight in the glare of the midday sun as It spoke urgently with En'kishi.

En'kishi's flesh was darker green, and she felt an unease that seemed to spread to her Voice as she listened to her master's wishes, the sketchy ideas they'd gathered of the threat and how it might approach from the beasts beyond the marsh. The anti-air ballistae, should they be concentrated at the shore, or divided between her own troups and those of N'dhka? The ground troups, how should they be divided? Should the Ha'galn be called to shore, or huddled near the border?

It would have been far, far beyond her rank, to shout out she didn't know. Was not Seluni ancient beyond any Seedless beyond it? Should not such age tell such things?

The robed Gar sunk to the sand of the shore, beginning to draw upon the sands with a stick. It offered En'kishi a handfull of stones. The younger wizard calmed, and they divided things. Impefectly, but something was done.


--Citidel of Nehar, Western Border--

Nehar looked out on the gathering below the Ever-lit Citidel and shook her head slightly. How long could the citidel hope to feed so many? Ah, but she must concern herself with this one.

She gathered her retinue to herself, donned diaphonous scarlet robes of state, bade the Voices stay behind. They would not be needed, not to speak to the Old Ones. A single remained...it took her a moment to realize the fine-limbed T'eseh female bore not her mark, but Esuun's.

"The Eldest listens? Then eren can hear the drums of war. Eren knows to stir itself, for if we fall, little stands between these beings of death and decay the flesh-beasts beyond spoke of." Rose and gold eyes peered directly into the eyes of the elven maiden, looking deeply.

The girl gave a small whimper, for the direct stare of a Gar'lar'andh is a thing of power, a thing not meant for the minds of lesser beings.

"Be ready, for should I crumble, Esuun-sa, it shall not be for decay alone. Your drums, your thoughts, keep me from the sacred grounds."

The elf found herself speaking, a Voice even so far away. "Gently, daughter. We shall grow, we shall prevail. Speak not roughly to the Ha'galn, least they see you as impertinent as well. You will take this one with you, for all my Own need know what we hold, that we stand against this threat." It used the T'eseh's tongue, for it would hurt the woman to speak otherwise.

"Come, then, little mouthpiece." Nehar motioned for the t'eseh to follow. "They should not be offended by merely one."

The elf glided behind the tall Gar, shadowed by the great leaflets. One of Nehar's true Voices looked on in jealousy, as the elves refused to understand that something big enough to stir these tree-like men must be a threat beyond any they'd hidden from before.

It was by sh'khen they reached the forest of the Ha'galn. The Voice trailed Nehar like a puppy, well-understanding that, unlike most of their smaller kin, these giants refused to see flesh-beasts as intelegent, viewed the silly tones of their language to be more meaningless than the cries of night-birds. Even scarlet-robed Nehar herself seemed submissive as she gave the traditional Song to awaken one of the great ones.

"Wake, and come to your children in their hour of need! Rise, as the sun, and warm us in this time of chill! Eren-ese'h, come forth to this Child of Sun and Earth, recall your duty!"

A great form seperated itself from the greater trees around them, monstrocities like the great redwoods of lands unknown to such as these. Like the Gar, but far less delecate, it towered even over this tall female. Its voice was pitched low, like the creaking of boughs, though the songs were similar enough that they comprehend each other.

The T'eseh listened solemnly as they spoke, Nehar remaining submissive as she proffered her offering, spoke her case. She settled herself in the grass, toying with a strand in the shadow of that great beast. Esuun, far away but listening, was content.

--Western Border--

A'sunni towered over the male as it began explaining its' mark, fretting over giving any part of its command to N'dhka. However, it seemed more efficient this way, as neither it nor N'dhka could be omnipresent. Not even with a number of voices, and with the Ha'galn involved, the Sun willing, the Voices would hardly be valuable as generals.

N'dhka managed to keep his anger to a low simmer. His Voice did remarkably well at masking her own frustration at the insulting tone. They both understood that males had a standing only slightly greater than that of Seedless, but that was how life worked, and what was at hand now was greater than a little rivalry. Besides, it was into Its hands that half his own arial troups would be going, anyway.

[Masterharper]

Gilidae
Helalsius dropw to all fours, bowing her head slightly to the Skarlagger. The bear tilts her head to the side, curious, yet hiding her excitement: this deal may yet work out. The first 'caravan' of mammoths should have arrived recently at the Skarlaggar's nearest land settlement to the Morsum, and with it individuals capable of showing the bear's neighbors how to handle the beasts as strong and hardy work animals. All was going as it should.

"I am pleased to hear this." Helalsius, "Let us discuss it, perhaps indoors where I may offer you hospitality." She turns about, begins walking, switching subjects for the time being. "You do my people a great honor by learning our tongue, I would know your name, if it pleases you."

[The Silence and I]

Gilidae
"I am pleased to hear this." Helalsius, "Let us discuss it, perhaps indoors where I may offer you hospitality." She turns about, begins walking, switching subjects for the time being. "You do my people a great honor by learning our tongue, I would know your name, if it pleases you."

"I am Shemnolld, chief Ambassador for the Western Tribe (OOC: I mistakenly called this character Lymnno'kitcha in my last post). I will admit it was not easy to learn your tongue, neighbors though we are, and I thank you for recognizing my efforts." She ('it' as far as the bear can tell) bobs her head fluidly, an unconscious signing which accompanies most of her words. "As for your hospitality, we accept with thanks."

[Rogue 9]

Gulf of Viconia

Azzerekis circled the dying ships before heading back towards Skarabrak. A sending from the Witch King alerted the initiates on duty to order the warships there to prepare to make sail to capture the wounded vessel. Mage cadres would be aboard and Azzerekess would meet them, allowing them to devestate the Viconian navy if they came to contest the taking. One cadre and the Grandmaster would remain in Skarabrak, should the Viconians get foolishly ambitious.

Gulf of Viconia

The Confederate ships sailed into the Gulf and found a few floating timbers after searching their target area. Another ship could be seen on the horizon against the rising sun, though it was distant.

[Cynical Cat]

Gulf of Viconia

"Head back," Malevan orderd the ships. "Azzerekes and I will deal with them." The dragon swooped through the air, heading towards the fleeing vessel.

[Masterharper]

Gilidae
"I am pleased to hear this." Helalsius, "Let us discuss it, perhaps indoors where I may offer you hospitality." She turns about, begins walking, switching subjects for the time being. "You do my people a great honor by learning our tongue, I would know your name, if it pleases you."

"I am Shemnolld, chief Ambassador for the Western Tribe (OOC: I mistakenly called this character Lymnno'kitcha in my last post). I will admit it was not easy to learn your tongue, neighbors though we are, and I thank you for recognizing my efforts." She ('it' as far as the bear can tell) bobs her head fluidly, an unconscious signing which accompanies most of her words. "As for your hospitality, we accept with thanks."

"Welcome, then, Shemnolld." Helalsius has a bit of trouble with the name, but manages it, bowing her head equally in respect. She leads the ambassador to a large temple constructed largely of ice on a base of stone, it's great open arch large enough for their host to fit through with ease, though she remains on all fours. Several Morkan attendants come to greet them, being sent off to retrieve cooked food, specifically an elk. Turning into a side-room, though it's entrance is quite large. "This way, if you please." Helalsius squeezes through the archway, moving to the back of the room, and sitting upon her haunches. There are no tables, or chairs, but rather a few cushions and various hides piled here and there.

"If there is anything else you require, only ask it." Her tone is kind, though deep and powerful yet. "I am anxious to hear all of which you would tell me."

The Sacred Mountain

Manevius and Korsius sat around the dieing embers of a bonfire. They had little use for the warmth, and the troll preferred his meat raw, but there were some among the Morsum who ate cooked food, as did the giants. He certainly wasn't one to argue, and had his uses. The troll had found a large piece of slate, and having taken to drawing on it with burnt embers, approximated what he would call a reasonable depiction of the mountain. Black against a gray sky.

The place was rife with something, though the troll couldn't tell. Just that there was more to it than he cared to consider. Several teams of scouts--mostly his men--had been sent out a few hours ago, they should be reporting in. Should there be a cave system large enough, Korsius had informed them that Helalsius planned to make a Morkan settlement here, perhaps even a kind of fortress. And something about other plans. The giant had gone on too long and the frost-troll had honestly stopped listening after about five minutes.

[Charon]

Admiral Ross was happy to be rid of the troops that had been stored in his holds. That many days at sea had begun to get them too eager for land again, not to mention the rivalries that hade begun to act up in such closed quarters. Out in the open and on dry land again however, tempers had died down. But now they were Caustus' problem. He had the enemy navy to worry about now though. They'd gone into hiding for now, maybe permanently, but part of the reason they were down here was to stop the pirate raids, it wouldn't do if they didn't manage to do that.

Admiral Ross looked out over his flagship, The Wyrm. The sailors were beginning to replace the ballistae that had been taken off to make room for the troops, so they would be at least partly capable of being useful in the coming fight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Markus Caustus sat in his tent as the rest of the men set up for the night. Tomorrow they would move North, towards the Orc city. It was under 30 kilometers. If the men rushed they could make it in a day, then the seige could begin. With any luck, they would be able to take the city, and from there things would only get more difficult. Scouts were out in the woods now, watching for signs of the Orcs. The army would have plenty of time to form up. Taking a deep breath, Caustus returned to the maps, looking for best routes and defendable positions.

13,500 men and 500 horses were setting up in the growing field of tents, men chattered among each other of the feats they would accomplish in battle and the glory they would bring back to their home. Priests walked among the men, praying in Pendran for the men, some of whom bowed and took part in the moving ceremony. Seperated from the rest of the army were two groups of rune-carved men. Who were themselves seperate from each other. The first group which was much larger were sharpening their blades, and praying to Dahhok. These were Dahhok's Chosen, the religious berserkers who had been carved with the runes of the Leroani. Unlike the others, these 2,000 men were silent in their religious musings adn preparations for death. The third camp was very small, only 100 men. But these were perhaps the most frightening, the Leroani were here to defend the army and break the walls once the seige began.

[Charon]

Lars Port

The sun began to go down, setting up for the first night of the siege. Inside the city of Lars Port husbands and wives said good-bye to one another, children were ushered inside, crying for fear of something they did not yet understand. Sacrifices were made to daemons and gods for hope of a savior.

King Alphonse sat in his throne room going over the plans for the siege, for now they could do nothing. In fact it seemed likely that they would in fact be destroyed. The Three had not given them enough favors, they would not survive, but they would send many of the fools with them.

[Dark Silver]

Korlech

The Airfleet had approached from the South, the armies of Korlech had felt at first, the wave of magickl fear washing off the bodies of the dracoliches - they were the first to arrive.

The great black airships of the Ilithian Air Navy were the next to arrive, the glow of thier raytubes trailing behind. Thier decks were filled with the might of the Ilithian army, thier ballista's and catapults readied for battle.

Long moments passed, th ships closed distance, soon they were within ballista range, then in catapult range, then crossbow, then longbow....then finally spear range.

No shot was ever fired, the great black ships hovered over the gathered Korlech army, and one began to descend, slowly, ominously. From it's great belly, a door slide open, and a platform descended, a truly massive snake dressed in ornate battle armor, gleaming with mystic and arcane runes painted upon it's exposed scaled flesh, and etched into the carapace armor, was present.

As the platform touched ground, Belt'hass the Harrower - surronded by his retouine - stepped forth, "The Ilithian Empire ssssssendsssss it's finest to prepare the way. We have arrived, and together, we sssssshall crusssssssssh out enemiesssssss."

[Thirdfain]

Pesht-on-Danub
Korlech

The only sound was the hissing of metal-on-metal, the rustle of ornate armour, the faint rustling of the Animated masses.

On great anima-destriers festooned with bone-hooks, spikes, and elegant splinted steel barding, the Lords Embalmed came forward. There were three of them, each clad in long shirts of heavy chain and clibanarii's platemail. Six hugelymuscled Animated in full State regalia came behind them, fusion-jobs with the upper torsos of dead men and the hindquarters of warhorses. Each carried a tall iron staff hung with the colors of the Sublime State and surmounted with a smouldering censor of a rare and potent perfume.

Eyes of polished quartz and garnet gazed from a broad, almost pudgy pale face. The lead Korlechi noble was clad in heavy mail and plate, and his crystal eyes were small and close-set.

"Lord Belt'Hass. You are in the honorable presence of The Lord Embalmed Mihály Az Európába, Hercega of the Capital and Horváth, Marshal of the State by order of King Andras III Gar Szalasi and the Quorom of the State. My sword is his sword, my word is their word. At my side ride the Lords Embalmed Istvan Gar Hadszrejic, Hercega of Pesht-on-Danub and Ã

[Rogue 9]

Taurian Coast

Sir Raibeart sat astride his warhorse as he watched the first part of his men disembarking from the HMS Stalwart with their horses. 'The Knights of the Blade will ride soon,' thought the hot-blooded nobleman in satisfaction, 'and the enemies of Eire shall tremble at the sound of our hooves.'

[LadyTevar]

"The Snakes have made their move."

Sir Mangus Cnoic-na-Mori, head of the Queen's Guard for the past five hundred years, bowed his head at Gliadrachan's words as they echoed the empty chamber. "The Western fleet is in position, the Neagh and the Ree have reached Rhydderach. The Carrib, the Deru, and the Erne are awaiting orders." He did not need to mention that the Queen's Guard was also fully prepared to take war out of Æthelmearc upon her command.

Queen Gliadrachan's gaze turned to her champion. "Shall I assume that you have already prepared the signals to summon up the militia as well, Sir Mangus?" she asked softly. "Your eagerness to fly to war is commendable, however I do not share your wish for bloodshed."

"My Queen...!"

She cut off his protest before it was fully formed. "Enough. You have seen the OutCasting, have battled the DarkenBeasts from the North, Sir Mangus; but you have not seen the Snakes in battle." Her eyes unfocus, her mind drifting back to the horrible days of her youth. "Their army is the UnDead, squadrons led by the twisted serpentine monstrosities of their shock troops. Their skyships darken the skies, raining down death mundane and magic. Any friend you left behind as dead returns to you, a walking corpse under their control, another soldier out to kill you so you too can be used against your friends." Her lips twist in pained memory.

"My queen...." the plea is soft, calling Gliadrachan back to the present to see her young champion's face watching her with concern.

A wave of her hand dismissed the darkest memories for the moment. "Enough. The standing army will be enough for now. Have the Eastern Fleet be on guard for trouble, and have them aid the Skarklaggers as needed. Be sure any Skarklagger ship sighted is hailed as friends and treated as honored allies. Give them copies of our seamaps, and pass along warnings as needed."

"Yes, my Queen. It will be done." Sir Mangus saluted, backing away to leave her alone in the chamber.

"Mangus..." Her voice stopped him. "Your preparations will be needed. War will come to Æthelmearc, far faster than I fear possible. Do not activate the militia as yet. Many eyes watch us, as I watch them. Let them see us as slow to wake."

"As you command, My Queen."

As her champion left, Gliadrachan returned to her viewing crystal. Let the younger nations see them as hidebound and slow, like the bear just rousing from winter's sleep. They do not remember the Nithgaard at War... only the quiet giant asleep in the North. It was a belief she wished them to keep for now.

[The Silence and I]

Gilidae:

"Welcome, then, Shemnolld." Helalsius has a bit of trouble with the name, but manages it, bowing her head equally in respect. She leads the ambassador to a large temple constructed largely of ice on a base of stone, it's great open arch large enough for their host to fit through with ease, though she remains on all fours. Several Morkan attendants come to greet them, being sent off to retrieve cooked food, specifically an elk. Turning into a side-room, though it's entrance is quite large. "This way, if you please." Helalsius squeezes through the archway, moving to the back of the room, and sitting upon her haunches. There are no tables, or chairs, but rather a few cushions and various hides piled here and there.

The Skarklagger are excited by the new environment and Shemnolld makes many quick gestures and sounds in her language, translating and explaining for the two keeping her company here. All three choose a place to sit and curl around their cushions, wrapping their heavy tails before them and appearing a little like very stout coiled snakes which had somehow sprouted arms and legs.

"If there is anything else you require, only ask it." Her tone is kind, though deep and powerful yet. "I am anxious to hear all of which you would tell me."

"We have learned of troubling news in the South." One Skarklagger produces a map which is tossed to Shemnolld, who is closest to the bear. She spreads the map out on the floor for Helalsius to see. It shows much of the continent and many nations big and small, but the Western areas are poorly depicted and incomplete. "Here, Lars Port is under siege, attacked by this nation, Hylidaeus."

She pauses for a moment.

"Other nations in the South here are preparing for war with one another, by this time they may even have begun to fight. We know that several of these nations are involved, but currently only know for sure that The Koronan Empire is moving ships of war through the seas. We will know more soon, but for now it seems unlikely any of this is dangerous to you and me. We merely pass on what we learn.

As for our closer neighbors, the Confederacy Of Dusk and Vicona are prepared to attack each other, in fact I think it is likely they have already fired the first shots. We will know soon, they are close to us. The other little cities dotting the North are quiet, as far as we know."

Another short pause.

"And, it might be good to hear this: our merchant ships are coming along wonderfully, it should not be a long wait before we can send you heavier cargo than news."

Heronter:
Three Skarklagger appear in the waters around the port and make their way to the land where they head toward the Keep and its Duke.

[LadyTevar]

Heronter

The Nithgaard of Heronter are pleased to welcome back the Skarklaggers, and Duke Rurik most of all. This time the crew is encouraged to freely wander the public squares, and especially the booths and shops of the merchants and farmers. Sleeping quarters are provided by two of the finer inns of the city, both attempting to best cater to the Skarklaggers needs.

The captains and other of rank are invited to dine with Rurik later that evening.

The dinner with Rurik was a jovial affair, as the Duke gave the captains gifts of good maps and better advice about the lands in the south. Yet after the discussion turned to the Ilythian Empire, the evening ended ubruptly. With warnings dire Duke Rurik begged the Skarklaggers to avoid the Snakes territory, telling them that at best they would be no more than food for the Snake-men's dinner.
"There are worst things than death," Rurik told them with the solemnity of one who has seen far too much. "And the Snakes know of them all."

[Rogue 9]

Gulf of Viconia

"Head back," Malevan orderd the ships. "Azzerekes and I will deal with them." The dragon swooped through the air, heading towards the fleeing vessel.

Ballista bolts sailed through the air towards the dragon as it bore down on the crippled ship. Sailors frantically seized weapons as the Night Dragon, much more easily seen now in daylight, soared towards them, bringing doom.