[Forum Game] Shadow of Gods and Empires

[iisbroke]

Name: Inim-shara
Background: Sell-sword
Race: Dwarf
Professed Deity: Oranth (Combat)
Bio: Inim is a dwarven sell sword who is well traveled. Currently he has taken up residence in the Iron District along with all the other warriors of the city. Though not much is known of the dwarf he has a preceding reputation as a great fighter who will follow out contracts to the letter, and take any contract as well.

 

[BlackBishop]

((Only a day away from picking the council of princes - Keep in mind that those of you not picked may still be a part of shaping the city. You can advise the counsel, be given quests and expeditions, and propose laws and policy. You may also petition the council for things such as sanctioning a trade expedition, a raid, exploration, ruin plundering etc.))

 

[jeeshadow]

Kafka made his way up the steps. He reached the top and stepped onto the walls that surrounded the Ashigarn estate. It was located on the border of what the commoners called the Iron Statues territory. Kafka had never been here before, it was a rather nice estate, not as fancy or grand as the Eleisburg estate, yet still beautiful in its own way. To Kafka its simplicity and classical Issarian architecture appealed to him, and more important now it had high walls. He turned to the nearest solder on the wall, wearing the herald of a Lord Kafka did not recognize and asked what the situation was. After hearing what he needed to know, but just before leaving he decided to stay for a moment. Walking along the battlements he looked over the burning city, fires raging in the distance. Yet, for once it was almost silent. He could hear the soldiers talking around him, and even the birds in the courtyard below. Here he was, one of the most powerful nobles in the city, with an army at his command, yet he could do little more to help the city he loved and served. It had been the ambition of Princes that had brought his city to where it was. Kafka could only hope the ambition of their successors would save it. With that, Kafka put on a smile in order to return to report the status of the garrison to headquarters and find Lady Thurmiton, his date for the night.

 

[jeeshadow]

Gregor Trask, known by his men and most of the city’s storytellers as Lord Bloodcloak, entered the filthy courtyard of a noble’s estate in the Iron District. Since the Anarchy had started more and more refugees had fled to the Iron District, both in an attempt to flee the city through one of the more peaceful districts and in order to seek the protection of the various groups of soldiers that had carved private domains out of the neighborhoods. The courtyard in front of Gregor was filled with such refugees and whatever scant few possessions they had brought with them, and by the smell of things he guessed that they had been staying there for quite some time.


Gregor sighed as he passed the refugees, mostly women, children, and the elderly, but maintained his course for the estate’s grand doorway, keeping his mind on business. He wore bronze colored scale armor under a thick, blood red, cloak, and his long sword hung casually at his hip while he entered the building.


Kafka stood in a side room looking at a map of the district. Discussing latest troop deployments with the other commanders, he was called aside by an aide to inform him his guest had arrived. Telling his aide to take his guest into another side room, he instructed to have the aide inform Trask that Kafka would only be a minute.


Entering the room where Trask was waiting, Kafka introduced himself, “I am Lord Eleisburg. I hear you are the commander of The Red Bastards. A man I met recommended I hire you for a sensitive job. I hope he was correct”.


“It depends on the job of course, but my company has been known to be quite successful, yes.” Gregor held out a leather clad man to shake the man’s hand. “Gregor Trask, though you may be more familiar with Lord Bloodcloak. What is it that you need Lord Eleisburg?”


“I am not familiar with a Bloodcloak family. I usually know who I am dealing with before going into meetings like these, but now it is hard enough to even hear rumours,” Kafka gives a little chuckle.


“No, I don’t suppose you would be familiar with a family, there is only me.” Gregor crossed his arms across his armored chest and let his violet eyes wander around the room. “This is your estate then? What is it that compels a man such as yourself to seek the aid of someone they hardly know anything about?”


“No, this is not my families Estate, that is in another section of our little realm. This is the estate of a lord who generously donated his house for the cause. Why did I turn to you for help? To be plain, the people I know can’t help me. Many of them are dead. It is not a kind time to be one of those with power”.


“Not if you don’t know how to wield it, I suppose. If you do there are few times so fruitful as these.” He waved his hand to dismiss the comment. “Not to belittle the memory of your friends of course, I’m sure they were all good enough folk.”


“A few, but in general, not really. Those who are good folk are here with me now. I guess it really depends what you use the power for. Still, all the Princes are gone. The old guard is being washed away”.


“We’re the new guard then? There’s a comforting thought.” He laughed sarcastically. “Tell me then, what is it that you need done? Want your gold moved out of the city milord? Food and wine brought in from the farms? Need us to kill one of your rivals while there’re still no laws?”


Kafka smiles, “Even when their was still laws, nobles killed their rivals. No Lord Bloodcloak, I want you to move people. Well protect them as they move. It is getting far too crowded in here, we don’t have enough space or food. Not enough men to maintain semblance of order. We have found those who have family, property, or other means of survival and support outside of the city, along with others who can go live in other refugee areas in the countryside. We don’t have the men to make sure that we can protect them on the journey. We have had to look for outside help, like you”.


Gregor rubbed his chin as he considered the proposal. “How far do we need to get them? You understand that a significant portion of my company can’t be expected to leave the city at the same time of course.”


“Of course. You let me know what men you have, and I will find the rest I need. There is more than one mercenary company in this city. Of course, the more men you send, the larger portion of the contract you will receive”.


“I would think it more honest for you to tell me how many refugees you have that need safe transport, but so be it. If they’re expected to be out of the city for any extended period of time, I suppose I could spare as many as three hundred men for your contract.” He rested a hand on the pommel of his sword and smiled confidently. “Not many folks would want to become involved with a force that size, and those who have the support to be able to do it can be avoided easily enough.”


“Well, our contacts are waiting just a little bit outside of the cities, and they have their own troops. I would only expect your men to spend a couple of days, a week at the most, delivering the refugees, and then bring food back into the city to our position to help feed the ones we still have here”.


“And the pay?” Bloodcloak raised an eyebrow.


“More than enough. I have an accountant with the specific details that you can talk to before fully accepting this contract. Just know you will be well paid and help a lot of people”.


“That’s good enough for me, so long as it’s enough to keep my boys fed and their armor from falling apart.” He offered his hand to Lord Eleisburg again. “We have a deal then. I’ll share the information with my lieutenants as soon as I return to the company. They’ll make sure that everything is taken care of from there.”


Kafka takes Gregor’s hand, “Good. Hopefully someone will restore order to what is left of this city. Until then, it is up to us. My aide will take you to my accountant so the details can be finalized. Good day and good luck”.

 

[alexander23]

There is alway. Money to be made


Some fires could be seen in the distance, people were crowding all around thebports away from the iinfighting inside the city. In the middle ofthe crowds a man with with a peculiar look stood upon a wooden bench.
"Wretched people of the ports! Do not fear for Azizi is here. Before you ask , yes THAT Azizi. The one and only Azizi the merchant adventurer. Looks at the city its still in flames and chaos just like the great city of neferti in the three princes civil war as told in my book.

Anyway as i was saying, heybyou there with the red scarf pay attention!, i am here to give you a wait out of this mess. Behind me stabd the great fleet i have assemble in my life, fir a low prince if one miserable bronce coin you can sign in for a five years contract to work for me. Be it male or female, even kids. Azizi compassion for its fellow citizens knows no bound spread the word. Azizo bring salvation to all thay look for it. Next to you my assisstance are read to talk with you. Dont think badly of me but the guards around will stop any one with nefarious intentions like the lizard people of the jade islands!."

The desperate people flood the assisstance to sign contracts and pay for their salvation.

"Sign here and here. Congratulations you are now a member of the prestogious Azizi workforce. As agreed you will work for five years as a sailor in one of the merchant ships,and be pay the agreed sum plus reducing food and other cost of extracting you out of here and providing work and safety for your family. Be ready you will depart in 3 hours. Oh and dont forget here is your "free" copy of The one thousand and one adventures of Azizi.Someone will teach you how to read in the ship so you can do so.Its mandatory. Have a good day. Sir"

Azizi looks at the rapidly filling chests with the desperate people payment to get out of the city. He looks at his assistance signing hundreda if not thousand of people to his service much more cheaperthan it would normally, all with a look of gratitude.
All his loses supporting his death brotherin law were being easily recouped, manpower and money wise. After all its settle azizi would have enough females working for him to start burdels and clothing making in big escale, his fleet were refilled and enough men to have a small if untrained personal army...well a gang aint not such a bad idea either though Azizi as he counted the many coins brought to him daily.

You could say Azizi had decide to branch out after all bussiness can always be done, no matter the circumstances.

 

[Korona]

Crowds of children crowd around the old man, hands open, screaming his name. "Geilli! Geilli!" The old man smiles, and hands produces a basket from his white robes. He pulls a loaf of bread out from the basket, tears it into two, and hands them to the nearest kids. The children kiss his hand in gratitude, and run off. Geilli continues to hand out bread, until he has nothing left. The remnants of the crowd walk off, leaving Geilli alone. The old man makes his way back to the temple of Hydra, and begins his daily ritual of praying for balance.

 

[DeMarchese]

((Should not we wait for the GM to determine who is a prince and who is a noble before posting any ICs? Just asking... far from my intentions to censor any roleplaying))

 

[jeeshadow]

((I am assuming these ICs will all take place before the Princes are selected, and just help provide background for our characters))

 

[BlackBishop]

Divining Chaos

Sea Season - 894 AoE
Year of Chaos

Albat the Jovial meets his fate​

The holy city of Wuldbreach had suffered much since the dissent of Prince Mankar. Fields and pastures outside the city were burned resulting in city-wide famine, nobles hide in their estates surrounded by their swornswords for fear of being killed in the streets, mobs of escaped slaves and cotters roam the streets, fires burn unchecked and thousands flee the city. Worst of all, the sacred Godsmoot ritual of last year was never performed. With no sacrifice made upon the Godswell, the power of Chaos has grown strong, and the consequences will be felt over the course of the next year.

Mankar's rebellion is widely thought to be over. Mankar himself is in hiding and his rivals are dead or in exile. The destructive civil war has ripped the city apart, with no clear victor left in it's wake. With the city in a state of anarchy, the time for a new council to be declared is now.

Eli Fara, the Grand Seneschal of Wuldbreach and the closet thing the city has to a leader at present, has declared a divination to take place at the Godswell. The top priests of Oranth, Wuld Mother, Issiris, and Hydra have been called to open up a portal to the Higher Plane, and into the realm of the Gods in order to learn who They would have lead the city.

As the holy priests of the city prepared for the ritual within the Ivory District of the city, unrest begins to escalate. A surprisingly well organized host of peasants, armed with torches, pitchforks and rocks, breached the district, burning a path toward the Godswell. At the steps of the great alter, beasts of all kinds were tethered and sacrifice was being prepared when the mob broke into the square. A well known high priest, Albat the Jovial, also known as the Fat,volunteered to reason with the mob.

The priest of Issiris was pelted with rocks and gravely wounded before magic could be deployed to send the front ranks of the mob into route. Before succumbing to his wounds, Albat said the mob believed the moot would summon Chaos demons into the mortal plane.

Eli Farar led a host of soldiers to disperse the mob, and after a brief clash and dozens wounded, the cotters and slaves broke and fled. It was widely whispered that the mob was orchestrated by the disgraced Prince Mankar.

The diviners and god-talker performed their sacrificial ritual, and upon the alter of the Godswell, an portals to the higher plane opened up. One by one, the priests stepped into the realms of the Gods. After a long count of hours, the priests returned, dazed and sober by the affront to their senses that the Gods' realms often leaves.

The priests divined that Oranth was displeased with the lack of honour the soldiers of the city hold, selling their blades for gold then to fight for causes worthy and true. Priests who walked Oranth's plane saw their path crumble below their feet, only oblivion below. Racing to escape the pitfall that opened up at their feet, the priests found safety at a large stone gate, holding fast against the crumbled road. What appeared to be a bastion of safety soon turned to misery, as the gate opened and the forces of Chaos poured through. Many priests were slain, the rest narrowly escaping to report that no clear candidate was chosen, and worse, Oranth's realm is being invaded by Chaos.

In the realm of Issiris, priests came upon two giant scorpions who fought across shifting sands. The beasts spat venom and tore through flesh, bleeding out onto the white hot sands. The sun shifted above the clash of pincers and stingers, revealing strings manipulating the movements of the giants. Pulling the strings was a beggar child. A great wind blew away the visage leaving only a mountain of gold. Issiris chooses David Morin.

The priests of the Wuld Mother were gifted a vision, their ears filled with a sweet melody that stirred their hearts and set their eyes to water. The glimpse of the Mother's dream showed a shield of music keeping cold darkness at bay, protecting a great flame where masses huddled to keep warm. The Mother chose Chaelas Nyvmrail 'the Fair'.

The priests of Hydra enter the realm of their patron god to find themselves in a dank dark cave, the stalagmites and stalactites shimmering with a pale glow through reeking mists. The party felt their way in the darkness, deeper and deeper into the cave, leaving a trail of torches to find their way back. A sudden rumble spelt their doom, the roof of the great cavern began to shudder and sink, and the cavern slowly began to close. The group scrambled to find their way back, too late realizing they had stumbled into the jaws of a giant. Several perished, the survivors returning to report that Hydra’s realm was under invasion by Chaos.

With only two names chosen by the Gods, the holy priests of the city had little choice but to turn to the spirit-callers, and hope he ancestors could offer clarity. The spirit of an old woman whispered into the ears of the callers, telling a tale of kindness that saved the lives of her great grandchildren. Many whispers were heard akin to this, guiding them to Kafka Eleisburg.

One spirit whispered a tale of a broken family, splintered by greed and abandoning reason. One man’s attempts to hold them together were spurned, and to save their legacy from ruin horrible deeds had to be done. It was widely agreed that such pragmatism would serve the city well. The spirits called the name of Baldur Vitupars.

On the runed stone of the Godswell, the spirits of hundreds of beggar children long dead descended upon the altar, tugging on the cloaks of the callers and scratching at their knees, asking for kindness, for compassion. They called the name of Geilli the Kind. The majority of the priests agreed that Geilli would serve the city well.

Spirit-callers were beguiled by the apparition of an old noble who spoke fondly of “Beggar Queen.” One whose striking looks and sharp wit attracted suitors from across the Free Cities. Issiris seeming to favour beggars during the ritual emboldened the argument in her favour, and soon the name of Avila Bedanburg was added to the council.

After the ritual, the procession of priests who survived the ritual walked in solemn prayer to the Gold District, to decipher and divine the visions and trials from the Gods. Following days of debate, sealed within the Council Hall, and still no closer to choosing the final prince, arguments began to broker in favour of Hera Loiranta. Oranth seemed to favour her, yet her choice to abandon her post invited greater war and conflict, yet upon the council she may find atonement. The priests finally settled on her, though some still grumbled others would be better suited.

The trying ritual over, and the long debate finished, the proclamation went across Wuldbreach, the Gods and Ancestors have chosen the Council of Princes! All hail Prince David Mordin, Chosen by Issiris! Hail Prince Chaelas Nyvmrail, graced by the Wuld Mother! Hail Prince Kafka Eleisburg, blessed by the Ancestors! Hail Prince Baldur Vitupars, called by the spirits! Hail Geilli the Kind, disciple of Hydra! Hail Princes Avila Bedanburg, charmer of spirits! Hail Princess Hera Loiranta, Oranth bless her!

 

[BlackBishop]

(( For now all players may send orders, though updates will likely stay focused on the princes. Prince and players whose actions are sanctioned by the council will receive a bonus roll to their orders. Stats and more coming soon. Feel free to IC until the first council meeting is declared.))

 

[Dadarian]

Krabb smiled wide as he cleaved the merchant's head from his shoulders. As the spurting sphere hit the floor and slowly rolled away, Krabb turned to his gangsters.

"Oi boys, da store's open for business! Takes whats you wants 'n brings it back to da house. Matter fact, kills dis guy's neighbours 'n brings everyding backs to da house. Leaves us no survivors boys."

Krabb looked left and right as his men spread across the small block in an anarchic and brutal display of base savagery. Yells of anger turned to screams as the "Schwipps" dealt with all found. Krabb thought for a moment, but before such a foreign occurrence bore any sort of fruit his eyes fell upon an apple. Rather a golden apple on a chain around the neck of a child who was hiding from the chaos.

Now, gold is a horrible thing to have around Krabb. It twisted what little was left of his soul, as the buttery sheen of the metal gave him a feeling he never had before. This apple needed to be his. This apple was going to be his. This apple was his. This apple has always been his. The apple dangled around his neck prettily next to the eight other necklaces that graced him. If one tried, they could see their reflection in it, or the reflection of Krabb as he cleaned his cleaver. The sounds of a scuffle outside snapped Krabb from his reverie. Running outside he saw men and blood fly into the street.

Blues and greens clashed with reds and coppers. Big Jim, a hulk with a single eye and thrice the amount of teeth shouted to Krabb.

"It's da Copperside Redmens sir! Deys come to kick us out of da block. Wes killed fives o' dem but dey killed Broke'd Nose Benny 'n Heata."

Krabb didn't reply with words, giving a simple rebel yell as he joined the fray, chopping far and wide, hopefully in the direction of the enemy. All the while having a far too large grin that stretched his face from ear to ear.

-------

Krabb and the Harbour Schwipps battle for greater control of the Copper District against the Copperside Redmen Gang (for loot mostly)

 

[Maelvona]

The calm before the storm

​

Hera rode quickly when she had heard she had been chosen as Prince of Oranth. The Phoenix Gate was not so far from the Palace of Princes, and she reached the noble Gold District soon enough, she had been the first there.. As Expected. The official council had not started yet, but Hera would take no chances. She had few friends, and these commoners amognst the council would have words with her, she knew. Still, she was above them, she didn't need an power-play so early however. She had brought with her a few score of guards, leaving the gate with an paltry force.. She would re-inforce it soon, but now..

"Men, set up positions around the palace. Visit the armory, put on the Palace Suits, and look presentable! If no one asks, simply act as if you have always been posted here... Captain Hendricks will make an schedule, and we shall guard this palace to the last!" She spoke with an broad and quick determination that only came from her. "From now on, you will likely not only serve me, this is fine, for I am now one in many. Sergeant Derrick, the gold district has some of the finest mercenary companies in the City, such as the Iron Cloaks, the Golden Serpent, the Two-folds.. See if any of their soldiers would like positions in the capital now, we need experienced men." She rubbed her chin, she thought she heard some clattering of an carriage, turning she realized it was just an tree..

"Ah! Anything else I might need I would have to take it up with the others... Soldiers, at ease!" She yelled. Setting up an interim gaurdsmen was easy, making it last? The merchants would no doubt want men in their pocket, the peasants don't trust true soldiers, and would employ any.. She couldn't trust many of them in the council, but she would have to try. It was hard to get much done without support. She cursed herself, if they saw her out here?! Looking around once again, the Prince of Oranth quickly walked inside the palace as if she owned it, exploring just so she could find the council chambers. And now we wait.

​

 

[Tapscott]

Avila Bedanburg tottered along the Gold District followed by a crowd of noisy orphans, or as she liked to call them 'her children'. Squinting at the Palace of Princes as she approached it, she let out a huff of disapproval. "Dusty." She wheezed as she wandered closer. Much too dusty.

After a good ten minutes of ambling she finally reached the opulent Palace of Princes. She remembered the balls she had been invited to attend in her youth from the various Princes in teh city. And the two Princesses that one time. Those were better days. She noticed some guardsmen standing about. Where they always here? Probably not. Must be some ambitious something something trying to make a point. As she passed one of the guardsmen her eyes flashed and she reached out suddenly grabbing his cheek in hand with a vice-like grip.

"Albert Graffen!" She scolded the shocked man, who turned a bright shade of red. "What did I tell you about slouching?! You must stand upright at all times!"

"Yes Aunty." The man said embarresed as he straightened up. Avila knew the boy. Well, man now, back when he had been a babe running around naked. Now he was all grown up and little better than when he was stark naked and hadn't seen two years go past. Sighing to herself as she told her children to wait outside, Avila slowly walked into the Palace of Princes. The council chambers ought to be a few doors to the left, if her memory was correct. It usually was.

 

[Maelvona]

Hera was sitting at the head of the table, inside the room, it was grand, with a balcony to her back to provide for fresh sunlight. The ceiling was a dome, and the archway the old woman had just entered in had ancient barkwood as doors, inscribed into them ancient texts. The round table allowed every member to equally observe each other at their own pleasure. Currently only the girl was there. She stood when the old woman entered, "Hera Loiranta, Captain. Prince now, I suppose." She was armored from head to toe, with an tabard of her gate's sigil, and a blue hue for the rest of her clothes under her armor. She wore an flashy silver cape.

"The rest of you are taking your sweet time to get here." She noted, Hera had been waiting for a few hours, having almost nothing to pack, and not a care for anything else.

 

[Tapscott]

Avila squinted at Hera. "Those clothes look much too serious deary. You should dress more comfortably, after all we may be here for quite some time."

Easing herself down into the seat opposite the doors she sighed happily. "Much better. These bones do ache." She said by way of explanation as she got comfortably. "But where are my manners? I am called Avila Bedanburg, and like you I am now a Prince of the city. Or Princess. It doesn't really bother me." She looked at the door with concern. "Oh I do hope my little children will keep out of mischief while I am here. Don't want them upsetting any of those boys outside now, do we?"

 

[Maelvona]

Ancestors, they were always fickle, and unpredictable. Hera noticed that this woman was gothic, but she was likely not to be trusted. "I wear this everyday." She said bluntly, sitting down with her.

Her eyes squinted as the woman talked, why would they choose such an old woman? She didn't even sound as if she knew where she was. Hera would have to put that beside her, being the chosen of Oranth, she would have to do what would be best for the defense of the city.. And she needed allies for that, she already had one. "What?" Children? This women had brought children with her? "Those guardsmen will apprehend any who try to interfere or enter the palace without on the pretense of official business."

 

[Tapscott]

Avila clucked worriedly. "The boys saw my children come with me. They'll just play out in the courtyards I daresay, or maybe play chasey around the place. I've told them to stay on their best behaviour." She smiled at Hera, reaching over to pat her hand. "My children aren't really 'mine', but I love them as if they were. Do you have children deary?"

 

[Maelvona]

Hera sneered, taking her hand away, but her face settled. Best not to upset the woman. "I hope they are.. And no. I have been worrying about my position, rather then a husband, who would be useless!" She shook her head, "I have been courted many times, however.. Perhaps when my tenure as Prince is over." She remembered her time, she would never let that happen again..

 

[Tapscott]

"A husband isn't just a bedwarmer, he can be used to strengthen your position. Don't be so fast to lump marriage with desire." The woman's tone and gaze sharpened for a moment before relaxing back into its motherly state. "But there is no rush deary. The right one will come along, you'll see."

 

[DeMarchese]

​

It was the Age of the Empire and it was at the dawn of this age when our story begins.

The Sacred City, wrapped in anxiety and turmoil elected a new council of Princes, men and women with power to hold the destiny of many on their hands.
When word of the divine election reached his hears, Nyvmrail wasted no time on more pleasantries and rode forth to meet his peers at the great Palace.
The prince rode through the streets like a breeze, leaving only a scent of flowers and incense wherever he went. Mariön was his mount and there was none other horse more beatiful than his white mount.
However, there were many people gathered near the great Palace, blocking the way forward. The gates were already guarded by loyal men of stern look on their eyes and cold swords on their strong arms. For the people were afraid of gods and men alike and conflict still roamed the streets. Violence was ensured as some demanded with angry voices food and shelter, others simply sought justice. Noble purposes and pure intentions twisted by wrath and fear, hands tended in pleas turned into clenched fists. This was the stage presented before the noble Nyvmrail and his actions on this day, despite many other choices in his life, gained great renown, as it is told the 'Ballad of the Golden Gate':

Softly in the gloom they heard the birds

The sighing of the sea beyond,
Singing afar in the other world,
Beyond the eastern realms, on sand,
On sand of pearls in Wuldland.​

And all the magic and might he brought,
Of Tha'Wuld into his words.
In the horizon, the sun rises,
In the forest, the deer grazes,​

And the city fall silent.

When his song finally died, the crowd gazed at him with silent wonder and amazed. For the shining light of a star descended upon them and now also walked among them.
Thus presented Nyvmrail the Fair to the palace guards who were also in awe of what they have heeded and he dismounted from the noble Mariön and spoke to the captain of the gate:
"Go now and tell to your superior that I seek audience, for I much desire to speak to her. Many are the duties of those who rule this city and I am but a simple musician. I will wait here until she deems me worthy of her time"

As the soldier took his leave, the crowd began to awake from the golden dream. He had weathered the storm but it had not passed at all...