The lands of Pavilion are wracked with war and chaos, with nearly half of its nations in armed conflict with another. And yet life goes. Nixen children kneel in temples and breath the smell of burning roses and drink of silver blessed water. Glorious battle is waged under the eyes of a living metal god. Lost souls struggle to find a new life in a land without magic. Vitruvian freaks tinker, dwarves smith, svaltfar and vizari probe mysterious arcana. Even as many places are engulfed in a tide of blood, life goes on.

---

Swiftarn is a classic rules light NRP! We're full up on players at the moment (or at least I'm zeroed out on time) but feel free to spectate!

> Barza
The ancient ruins of Tagaya have lain uninhabited, aside from an unsavory mix of squatters and scavengers for many tyrns now, but as Barzan earthmovers set up camp in the city it quickly becomes apparent that is changing. Ramshackle bandit fortresses and shanty towns alike are tipped or plowed under by rolling waves of earth. In their place neatly arranged streets of geomancy shaped slabs are put into place, temporary barracks and dormitories are set up, and the first waves of settlers begin to pour in, largely veterans being granted plots and homes in exchange for their years of service. The old ash mushroom farms are tended again and for the first time in decades there is life in this place again. The Barza rename the city Theodoropolis.
Great stone rollers are employed to facilitate the production of great amounts of silversteel wire. Initially it is useful for armor that is highly disruptive to magic, and the armor quickly finds a second use as a means to prevent criminal spellcasters from wielding their magic. Where the material truly shines though is formed into heavy nets that can be thrown onto enemy spellcasters, cripping their magic. A hundred other uses also come to mind, inlaid into shields, dragged on walls, fine meshes woven into cloaks. A marvel in a magical world.
Initial forays into the far south prove fairly difficult, Turbans seems interested in little besides coin. Nonetheless a few small chapels are established, though it's clear the local cartels and merchant lords seem them as little more than useful pawns in the greater games of coin.
A sizable stir is caused by the presence of a large harpy with silver wings at the Grand Basilica. She attracts no end of petitioners who believe her to be some sort of divine messenger. After a day in prayer however she leaves for the north.

> Do??
The End is Coming. Trebuchets slam into the city, no food except rats and the weak can be found. Those who rush screaming at the Orcman lines are devoured by the flames of metal dragons. The only escape is the sea, the wild and vicious and unforgiving sea. The Domo came from it, and to it once more they return, led by the one they call the Wolfmaster. The savagery of orc and wolf beats together in him and those he cannot cow he kills. He sets sail in stolen ships toward the south, chasing a legend of ancient tools that can shape flesh like clay. What he finds is a small patch of islands hidden in the ocean, nestled around a smoke belching volcano. Here the sick and weak are left behind, building a simple dock and village, hoping to survive the End that comes. The Wolfmaster sails on though.

> Vitruvia
Intelligence potions are curious things. Better focus, better memory, increased speed of thought, all excellent results. The steady decline into a morass of depression that typically results in a vicious cycle of recreational potions is unfortunate. And of course the nature of most skulls to be inflexible results in horrific headaches, or the steady addition of drilled holes and rubber sealed glass domes added to heads to accommodate extra space. Even then there are limits, the mind is found to be a hungry creature, most long term users tend to waste away over time, their bodies never quite able to consume enough food for their extra brain matter. Still, many find themselves heavy users of the potion regardless of its detrimental effects.
For the less ambitious there's always a tour of duty as an Arbelist. The Vitruvian variant is actually quite straightforward, though the exact mechanism for cocking the weapon varies depending on the number of thumbs the user has. Still the point and shoot nature of the weapon makes it easy to use, and Gjoldsteel bolts make it quite dangerous.
A curious new development occurs in the shipping lanes of the Tarn. While the Kha-pike population has largely settled down in the tyns after Skrit waste management began (a total coincidence to be sure), a single massive specimen has been spotted in the lake that seems to enjoy terrorizing Vitruvian trade vessels in particular. Fortunately it seems more interested in torment than any true damage, no ships have been sunk, but no small amount of damages have been incurred to trade vessels. One particularly lengthy complaint describes the massive pike leaping from the water and ripping a large figurehead from the vessel, tearing it in half, then hurling the pieces back on board.
An ill and sizable Harpy is spotted disembarking from a ship in Holmbastus. After recovering from her illness she spends a week working with a minor local alchemist, paying him handsomely, before departing on a roc flight to Krovia.

> Ordelan
Work on the great Pale Rampart continues on. Great slabs of quartzite are hewn and anchored into place with painstaking effort. The river banks are dug out, allowing a rush of water to fill the earthwork ditch. Dotted along the way squat towers are built into the walls overlooking them into the lands beyond. The people of Ordelan rest easy knowing the mightiest fortification in Pavillion defends them, and small villages cluster into the shadow of its wall, born of the thousands of workers that poured their labor into this mighty construction.
To the south is the bitter matter of vengeance. Sword of flame in hand Sasha continues a campaign of terror against any Domo settlements she comes across, that they’ve reduced themselves to crazed furor means little to her. She joins the main forces, eager for the fire of her blade to test itself against the great jungle wall.
A large harpy with gleaming wings of silver is spotted headed south over the country, moving at tremendous speeds, though no one was in position to intercept her. She was last spotted vanishing over the Domo Jungle.

> Turquoise Turbans
Mercenary work has always been profitable enough, but the recent flood of work has their ranks swelling more and more, young men flocking from the villages looking for escape, or glory, or simply more coin. Those that survive go on to become wealthy merchants or mercenary captains in their own right. Those that don’t have little written about them.
Isolating the aging effects of the speed potion is a difficult endeavor, it is the extreme speed of the potion producing tremendous wear and tear on the body that causes much of the issue after all, and removing the speed effectively removes the aging effects. The question then becomes how does one cause the terrible wear on the body without granting their enemies supernatural speed? In the end Turban alchemists isolate the effects of the potion to the mind itself. The results seem trivial at first, the mind of the drinker is sent into overdrive, while the body remains normal. Within a few minutes the subject becomes agitated, usually citing boredom, then it is only a few minutes before the insanity begins to creep in. Hallucinations, irrational behavior, and extreme emotions quickly follow. By the end of an hour of exposure to a full strength potion the subject is some combination of screaming and catatonic, sometimes alternating between them. The most lucid describe being trapped in a world that grows progressively more nightmarish, while at the same time expressing a desire for more potion, describing their present reality as dull, slow, and brown. Reducing the poison to a gas is unfortunately of little use, achieving the required effect requires a concentrated dose.
Down, down, down the strange structure goes. Well provisioned explorers begin their descent, how far down can it truly go after all? After a day of traveling the air grows thick and hot, and the weaker members of the group grow faint with illness, it quickly becomes apparent the air is no good this deep in the earth. They will have to turn back. They have descended 200 floors with no end in sight. The return takes even longer.

> Krovians
Where there is hunger, there is a possibility is how the krovian phrase is usually translated, though in the original texts it is closer to ‘gut rumbler, grub getter’. And as the Krovian population expands outward so too do hungry maws. Dwindling local food supplies pushes young sharkmen out into the world, expanding out across the mushroom islands and deserts. There is little new to see in the mushroom isles, but the expansions across the deserts does lead to a rare event in this era, the discovery of new neighbors! Krovian desert communities almost immediately butt heads with Domo villages along the border. Naga, Gnolls, humans, and beastmen make up this new people and there is no pretensions of peace here, the sharks are attacked on sight. Naturally local krovians respond in kind, and soon the border between the two nations is littered with the ruins of villages and impromptu battlefields. Naturally it quickly becomes a favorite vacation spot of the Krovians.
To the south of the pulse-lux temple a twisting and winding vein of tin is discovered. Not a particularly useful war metal, but it frees up other metals from being sacrificed as cookingwares at least, and should a supply of copper be procured it can be alloyed into bronze.
At the temple itself a strange new competitor arrived, a sizable four winged harpy, though youthful in nature. After proving herself in the arena she challenged the avatar himself, who after a lengthy bout ripped two of her wings from her body, replacing them with gleaming silver before sending her on her way.

> Skrit
Central watches its children. There is inefficiency there to be sure, even squabbling and pointless, seemingly random behavior, but these parts of itself that are not itself have a remarkable talent for adaptability and transformation. Processes are optimized, errants branches of the swarm pruned and redirected, and mistakes that once might have lingered for weeks are corrected in minutes. Their capacity for interaction with other races is also remarkable, able to respond, consider and react nearly instantly without conferring with the vastness of the swarm. Of course this is also unnerving, after all there is nothing to stop them from making a mistake. Of course, perhaps this was always true of Central as well. A concerning thought.

> Habitun
The Hafgufa quickly becomes a staple of local legends among the fishermen of Habitun. The massive kha-pike is often seen patrolling the waters, terrorizing Vitruvian trade vessels without actually causing severe damage to them. That the scaly menace is on the other foot is no end of amusement for local fishermen who had struggled with the beasts for decades. Tales populate the local taverns of drowning children saved and sinking boats returned to shore.
Weaving together man and snake into one union is no small task, though the extensive experience of the Skrit with manipulation of life great and small is a critical piece of the puzzle. At the center of it is a Skritari ‘doctor’ who weaves extracted neural fibers from slaver wasps into both a habitun volunteer and a shadow infused ouroboros snake’s exposed brain matter. Shadow healing is applied to seal up the wounds. By necessity the snake lives out the remainder of its days wound around the elf’s neck, bound together by a braided link of neural fiber. This unusual binding of flesh comes with both remarkable advantages, and disadvantages. Foremost is, with considerable training, the svaltfar snake pair are capable of wielding the time rewinding power of the snake together, snapping back wounds, positions, or even touched targets, though the mana reserves of the pair can become quickly exhausted by overuse of such abilities. The weakness of the pair however lay in both the snake, a far shorter lived creature than the habitun elf, and the neural connection between the two. Severing the connection, via either the connection of the death of the snake itself results in a debilitating surge of pain, disorientation, then crippling depression in the weeks and months to come. As the snake ages or becomes ill it must invariably be replaced, a process that takes considerable time and effort, as well as retraining the time manipulation abilities granted. Lastly there is a curious amount of feedback between snake and elf, svaltfar agents should be regularly reminded that they are not snakes, and swallowing mice whole is not good table manners.
A minor, if irritating report from the frost witch Zurna, a large harpy was spotted skirting her territory, staying well away from sea witch’s ire. The harpy vanished to the north.

> Vizari
In a nation of powerful spellcasters it is unsurprising that the mighty rule over the weak, with powerful spellcasting colleges being the de facto noble houses of the land (and indeed some claim to be some ancient scion of the long dead Telden empire). But wherever the strong rule the weak, the weak seek some means of evening the playing field, and there is little better at this than the Widow Mantle. More than one folk tale circulates rural villages of a cruel sorcerer going to sleep on a soft pillow only to find in horror that it has been smeared with extracted oil from the toxic plant. No wonder some elite sorcerers staff their manors exclusively with golems and undead thralls.
Vulcan’s Folly, like most wild magic, is a difficult to use spell, chaotic in its very nature. The powerful forces require direct contain with the target, but transfigure flesh to stone, causing horrific wounds when the spell is broken and the stone and flesh part, leaving gaping holes in the target. Full transformation into a statue is rare though, the spell triggers the summoning of fire sprites, a dozen per second. Each one is a minor malevolent trickster alone, and entirely uncontrollable, wielders of the spell frequently suffer serious burns from the sprites ‘pranks’. On a battlefield the result is generally pure fiery chaos.

> Krawl
A vein of lead ore is discovered along the riverbanks by roving drones. The heavy but soft metal could be useful as an augment for more physical krawl forms and more civilized races prize it for the ease in which it can be formed into bowls, pipes, and other objects.
A great dark vortex, reinforced with a bronze lattice is formed along the front lines of the great ant war. A formidable construct teaming with Krawl, it is yet another monument to the swarm on swarm conflict.
Treachery is an unheard of concept within the Krawl, but it does not take long to track down its source. The Rachni. Some remnant of the spider’s own hivemind has persisted and been reborn within the Krawl itself, and even now is attempting to direct the calling of Grelous to its own dark god instead. Forcing it out should be simply enough, but such a thing could cause part of the swarm to schism, and at the worst of times.

> Orcmanie
Plunder-Bats are simple creatures. Alone, they are timid if affectionate creatures once they become used to orcman contact. In large enough groups they inevitably revert to their instinct desire to update other creatures. Studying the creatures reveals a bit more of their instincts however, the plundering seems to be focused not on people as originally thought, but livestock, stranding cows and sheep on high cliffs near nests of the bats. Eventually the creature either falls, or collapses from exhaustion, and then the swarm descends to feed on the creature. Large groups of tamed bats are raised in a central location, then transported in cages out to more distant locales where they can be released and tricked into swooping up a sheepskin cloaked parcel, letter, or even rarely a full person and carrying them back to designated ledges at their home nest. That these ledges feature staircases, doors, and postmasters is of little concern to the bats as long as the postmaster remembers to reward their efforts with a fresh slab of meat.
Ganstand Fortress is a powerful symbol of orcman might. With the western Domo lands all but doomed to fall, it is the shield of future incursion, and the spear of future invasions. Slabs of ordelan quartzite and orcman red granite interweave creating a striking image. The local garrison also serves to squash rebellion and stamp out bandits and raiders from the east, a frequent occurrence.
A strange bit of news arrives, a mysterious ‘black knight’ entered the jousting lists, trailing the occasional feather, but hidden entirely in a suit of armor. The mysterious knight was fairly awkward unfortunately, though remarkably strong. The armor and horses were found given away a few days later to a friendly but poor noble who had fallen on difficult times.

> Adenai
The trumpets of war continue to blow. Seizing on the weakness of the beleaguered Domo the expansion of Adenai has pushed all the way to a distant city, looking to capture it. But the rigors of war have drained the ranks of the half elves considerably. The call goes out for fresh soldiers, enticed from farming and common village labors to a life of glory, and if they survive a plot of freshly conquered land.
The very best might find themselves immortalized by the Adenic Masonry Guild. Fine statues of war heroes soon grace most major villages, and even a few of the smaller ones. Grander noble houses commission entire statue gardens in their glory however. Naturally pillars, floor tiles, and smaller statuettes also proliferate across the land.
Of minor note, a harpy with gleaming silver wings is spotted soaring along the edges of the kingdom, toward the south.

> Urotti
Much of the world is locked away from the dwarves of Urotti by vast stretches of inhospitable terrain. High mountains, frozen tundra, vast stretches of paranoid elves, swarming ants, and a vast inland lake all form barriers to the world. But the Tøjhuset opens up much of the world, allowing the construction of greater and grander ships able to sail farther afield to more distant lands.
Alongside the greater ships work continues on the favorite pastime of the dwarves, metallurgy. A grand new metal foundry is constructed, powered by great water wheels, able to process vast swathes of ore into purified ingots of metal.
A strange event occurs in Virn-Urdor. A sizable harpy enters the city from the west, dressed in simple clothes. Amiable, friendly and an apt student she spends a some time working the forges and studying runework before departing, leaving behind a handsome purse of coinage.

> Guliseare
A creature the size of Ourania should not be difficult to find, and yet she leads the agents of the inquisition on a merry chase across the land. The trail goes cold at the borders of Habitun land, and for a time it is feared she is lost to shadow, trapped in some dark cell of the monstrous elves, then fresh news arrives of an unusually large and sick harpy arriving on a boat from Vencia, only to ride off on a Roc toward Krovian lands soon after! The trail is picked up at some accursed foreign temple dedicated to bloodsport where a great metal idol holds sway, who speaks warmly of young Ourania before indicating she has gone to the west. She, or her captors, set a hard pace, the trail passing through the Grand Basilica where it is said she knelt in prayer from sunrise to sunset, with a pair of gleaming silver wings, attracting no end of onlookers before setting off again to the north. There is a tenuous clue at the jousting lists, where an ‘awkward’ competitor is said to have left a trail of feathers in her wake, then more sightings heading back toward the south, crossing over Adenai and into Ordelan. There she stopped briefly at the Ruins of Dawn before continuing south, passing by all accounts directly over or perhaps through the twisted jungle wall of the Domo. There, the trail grows cold, until...

> WAR

> Madness of the Do??
At Hursas'toire silversteel ballista scream through the air leaving trails of trails of light before they slam into the witch tree, detonating in a burst of flame and flesh. There is little the witch tree can do to stop it as death rains on her from afar, save send the dwindling Domo to run screaming at the Barza line.
There is no light down in the darkness below the earth. There is blood, and dying torches, but the only true light Justinian and his honor guard have is that cast by silver lanterns. For a time all they find is the butchered remnants of Domo. Then the dead stir restless and must be hacked back to rest. When there are no more dead, maddened Domo replace them. Down and down the trail of violence goes into ever thickening darkness. In the depths the Barzans find a horrifying sight, a mass of pulverized flesh entangled in roots, screaming and pleading hysterically. Domo madmen hack and lash at it, feasting on its flesh, only as it grows back with supernatural speed. Desperate battle is joined immediately, but it is hundreds against only a few brave souls. All too quickly Justinia knows that this place will be his grave. As his lifeblood spills out he hurls the precious artifact needle pinning the Domo Hero into the mass of flesh.
The great witch tree begins screaming. Silver threads of light twist beneath her skin. Snakes of flesh burst from the ground, crawling up the tree. Silver lines weave flesh and bark together, then still screaming a twisted form of wood and flesh bursts from the tree. It towers over the city and the army before, mournful screaming dirges echoing from a hundred mouths. Shining silver threads bind its form together, wood and mutilated goddess flesh, the twisted remains of ten thousand domo, the limp forms of a dozen Barzan knights and Justinian himself all bound together. The titan crashes through the city, the Barzan army as they twist in agony from the howling, and continues onward toward the Barzan fort blocking its path. And it continues to scream, until as the sun falls its thousands of mouths grow hoarse and the wailing fades to a whisper of a whimper.

> Ordelan’s Rage
No more! Nothing will stand in the way of Ordelan! Of Vengeance! The wrath of Ordelan is unleashed, fire and flame and the army marches forward, hewing with axe and purifying with flame. And the twisted jungle twists and jerks in pain! It flails, domo tribes and twisted beasts of bark and flesh lunging from the shadows. Hundreds, then thousands of Nixen perish in the dogged push forward through the jungle, as many claimed by flame and smoke as by beasts and dark magic, but a path has been blazed, a trail of charcoal and blackened bones. They are through.

> Guliseare's Gambit
The situation is grim for the aripan of Guliseare. Deep behind enemy lines, airships that are more wreckage than tools of war, more wounded than not. It is only their fiery determination that keeps the army as a cohesive unit instead of splintering into roving bands trying to make their own way back home. Flight rods are gathered, wreckage repurposed into makeshift walls, as much safety can be scraped together, is.
All too quickly Turban mercenaries are upon them. Boar riders clad in steel strike and raid at the fringes, driving back sentries and forcing the harpies on the defensive. Beams of light scatter against spellbreaker boars, and each impact of the heavy beasts threatens to topple what few defences the harpies have. For a tenuous hour the harpies hold on, then as the sun is setting vast hulking shadows come into view, krawl biotitans, each one a living siege breaker. Siege weapons unleash onto the harpy encampment and within moments the ramshackle fortifications are leveled.
The aripan are resigned to their fate when an unknown consecrated aripan throws herself into the battle. With silver wings of metal and armored and armed with weapons of strange foreign make she crashes into a biotitan menace, turning it's weapons on the Turban mercenaries before toppling the monstrosity into its own ranks. Ourania, Guliseare's lost child, rallies her battered countrymen and leads them in a quick retreat from the battlefield before the Turbans can restore order and finish the job.

> The Jungle Brawl: Fort Edition
It is a humbling day on the field of battle for the nachetars. Of all the people of Pavillion only one can match the furious disregard for their safety the Nachetar possess, and it is the Krovians. Worse still the powerful blood magic that beats within the Krovians purifies them, at least in small amounts, of the body stealing taint of the otherworld menace. Nachetarian attempts at subterfuge go ary as well. By pure accident an attempt to broadcast a false plan to the Krawl sends the true strategy, allowing the Krawl to defly navigate the jungles and avoiding conflict entirely to launch a full assault on the once skrit fortress. Here Krovian and Skrit forces are entangled in a bloody stalemate, with the Sharkmen slowly being overwhelmed by tides of ants. To make matters worse the Krovian and Krawl supply lines are faltering. All up and down the miles and miles of convoy dark elves are striking with enchanted blades that turn their targets to crystal, shattering wagon wheels, the legs of animals, and when opportunity arises the teamsters themselves. All along the route supplies are stranded, animals abandoned, basilks and manti enraged and set loose. Something needs to be done to reestablish control.
At the fort itself matters come to a head when the main Krawl force crashes into, and even over it. The battle rages into the warrens and tunnels of the hive fortress itself, where night and day blur into a hellscape of carnage. Krawl kill ants by the thousands, who in turn kill krawl by the hundreds, and it seems the terrible battle will wage for an eternity, until at last the Krawl forces falter, their partially cut supply lines forcing them out of the fortress at last. In the retreat Zabatar walks without his great mount, Zabacraw having perished under the assault of countless poison bearing ants swarming into his body.
In the aftermath the Skrit and Krawl forces must contend with the frustrating truth that they have exhausted their vast arsenals of war, and must rest for two turns.

> Orcmanie: Strangle Koll'naud
The fate of Koll’naud is largely a forgone conclusion. Cut off, without supplies, support or even a simple pallisade, the Orcman army is free to hurl great stones at the city freely and unleash dragon flame on any Domo rapid enough to charge howling at the orcman camps. Eventually the city is judged to be sufficiently softened up and the legions march in to take whatever seat of government might remain. One last trick remains of the Domo however. As they march into the central parts of the city flames erupt across the city. One last surge of screaming zealots descend on the Orcmanie. By the time the madmen are put down the city is an inferno. By the end of day many noble souls are snuffed out by the smoke and flame and the city is a burnt out ruin. The army is exhausted (for two turns) but the job is done.

> Adenai: Take the City
An’naud fights bitterly for a doomed city. Half elves on drakes strafe it from the sky, the city eats only what it can fish from the harbor, and simple catapults hammer it with loose stones, spreading chaos through the city. Nonetheless it pushes back assault after assault. In the end it is bloody attrition, two and three half elves lost for every domo soul, that wins the day. Even then, with full garrisons in the city it is apparent the Domo are held back only by hunger and freshly executed corpses on display, it will take a few turns before the city is tame enough to not need babysitting.

----TURN 26 END----

>>6238018
Whatever plot the Heroes had concocted, it seems to be ash by the intervention of Barzaentium.

>Action 1 & 2: Eat Yourself.
You know, there was always supposed to be another Doom. It would have doomed the Domo, made a mess of whatever fate they managed to thread when they burned for the first time, and just like before, it would have birthed something far more terrible, yet far more attuned to the nature of this world.

The machinations of the heroes derailed that, for in their narcissism do they think themselves of a better Doom, one that would have irrevocably altered the world itself, and in better ways 'they' would say. Such a Doom asks for an even worser price, and even more asked for them to deny what was supposed to be. They had the people for it, but it wasn't enough in the end.

Now, the price must be exacted. Let us say, without the radiant hero guiding the geist, the people that were left, WEAPONS, they are blind. Still, so so hungry for war, for the righting of things, but in the darkness, they are left with only themselves "and no one else". One must fulfill their nature, don't they? What happens when a weapon is left with nothing to point to but themselves?

Of the stragglers, Khurnaire has denied their claim in defying the Blood Tree, and so they survive, albeit with a disappearance of something from their collective memory, and some texts and tablets being forgotten as they do in the dark. The Wolfmaster is a problematic sort, managing to scrap together something to fill himself with the blood and murder and all things so (a mockery of what came before him), but there's no shortage of mystery in the sea, what with the sudden appearance of an isle that was never there before. There's already a precedent set about the foolishness of seeking the Crucible, and the Wolfmaster is much more of a fool than the First Archpriest when you compare the two. With all that baggage, isn't it wondrous that he didn't drown himself the moment he began his journey?

In a few generations' time, it would've been as if the Domo was never here at all. Perhaps, the west will still dream of monsters who once skulked in the dark, and was bloody and hungering and terrible, but the monsters are gone, dead, devoured, missing. It can't happen here. Isn't their nonexistence much pleasing? Really, all this was unneeded. They don't exist. They really don't exist. Who were the people that once claimed these forests, yet were made empty for these monsters to claim the lands then? It's much more true that whatever kingdoms the helves and the orcs will make, or whatever desolation fills the plains, they were always what was always here. There was nothing here.

>>6238015 (OP)

>Action 1: Urotti Trade
It was the Ratecraseur expedition which first bought news of the Urotti Dwaves to the lands of the Orcmanie, but since that time the promised trade has failed to open up. So we shall simply have to do it ourselves. In the Harbours of Port Sainac and Cadon the timbers of a new Orcman trade fleet are constructed boat by boat, hung with sail from Colnaude and launched into the waters of the Orcmansea. Let bold Orcman crews ply the waters of the north, linking our ports to the Urotti and to one another in an expanded network of trade.

>Action 2: The Duchy of Colnaude
The armies of King Guyard have made a ruin of the city of Koll'naud, and we call it a peace... of a kind. King Guyard is married to Queen Lotra amidst the smouldering ruins of the conquered city, a traditional celebration drawing on Orcish heritage. But in the aftermath, the conquered lands will be distributed and the work or reconstruction must begin. Bold Knights and companions are handed those territories that have not already been distributed, whilst the wide expanse of the land itself is grouped by Royal decree into the 'Duchy of Colnaude'. The longserving regent Grenlug Morthochet is named as the titular Duke of Colnaude, whilst his eldest son (who has fought alongside King Guyard for much of the war) is named as Count of Colnaude, and granted the responsibility of overseeing the territory in the name of his father and the King. Of course, the city is currently a ruin; so restoring the city of Colnaude with a reconstruction along Orcman lines is seen as a priority by the count.

>The Army Rotates
Exhausted and stretched, the Orcman Army is not currently in a state for further campaigning. And so as well as a victory stipend, honourable discharges are granted to those from the ranks who wish to return to the Orcmanie, whilst grants of land are passed out to those willing to remain in the Duchy of Colnaude. Let the rewards to the victorious and the tales of their deeds be the inspiration for recruits to our armies in the years to come.

>>6238015 (OP)
Action 1: The A-Bomb

FADE IN:

INT. THEORETICAL APPLIED ALCHEMY HALL - NIGHT
>A pale furred otter Cavia sits alone in the mess hall, eating a sad pulseless meal of sad beans and frowning pike.
>A decanter of beer sits on the table.
>It’s been there hours now, untouched.
>The Cavia takes a sip at last, then another, for bravery, this Cavia is OTTERHEIMER, known for his intelligence, if not his strength of spirit.
>A document sits on the table, and Otterheimer reads it one last time

**Principia Alchemica - CLOUD CROWN VOLATILITY REPORT**
>Practically a jumpscare in text form, the document describes the topic in such a sterile and detached manner that one could mistake the numbers and figures on the page to be mundane.
>They are not mundane.
>Cloud Crown is as close to the the Universal Accelerant as one can get.
>It can be used to make a device to help people, Otterheimer is sure of it.

INT. BUREAU OF INTERNAL AFFAIRS - DAWN
>Otterheimer stands shaking, nervous and partially suffering withdrawal from his daily intelligence potion vials.
>Before him floats FISHONNACHI, a grossly mutated Cavia specimen from the lake who happens to be attending manager of the entire experimental experiments team
>Otterheimer has just finished relaying the news

Fishonnachi: “Are you saying that there's a chance that we can make a bomb-“
Otterheimer: “A device”
Fishonnachi: “A device, yes, of course, but one that, ahem, when activated, has a smidgeon of a chance of igniting the mana winds and with them, the entire atmosphere, thus destroying the entire world?”
Otterheimer: “The chances of that are near zero.”
Fishonnachi: “Near zero?”
Otterheimer: “What do you want from theory alone?”
Fishonnachi: “Well I do say, zero would be nice!”

EXT. MUNITIONS YARD - DUSK
>A team of experts, Otterheimer included, puzzle over a prototype A-Bomb.
>A supercooled runic shell coats the outside of the device, making ignition theoretically impossible until the time for detonation
>A modified formula for alchemists fire, additional reagents, jold wiring, mechanisms and compressed cloud crown are all present on the inside, forming a labyrinthine maze of complex segments and detonation lanes, each part being installed slowly over time.
>Otterheimer, idiotically, continues objecting to the particular wording used

Otterheimer: “It’s a DEVICE! A device! Not a bomb! It’s for helpful causes!”

EXT. TESTING SITE CARNHELDE - NIGHT (DIST: 3.2KM)
>”The sun rose in the rainforest at night”
>”A horrifying glow I could see even from this far. It rose up and spread out, a horrifying blaze that could set fire to the sun.”

>”My helpful device for helpful causes had been perverted, twisted into this, atrocity, this wretched weapon of war.”
>”My life’s work, twisted into a bomb that kills people.”
>”This truly is the I am Become Death, Destroyer of Worlds of our time.”

-Rubert Otterheimer, Enemy of Technology

END SCENE

Action 2: Munitions Factory

A facility dedicated to the production of advanced combat munitions, unlike most Vitruvian infrastructure this place is entirely dedicated to the production of war materials, for there is little civilian application for the devastating A-Bomb.

The principal weapons produces at this facility are the A-Bombs of course, alchemical warheads that explode in a colossal fireball that turns everything it touches into more fuel, weapons of truly absurd power compared to anything devised before.

These weapons are not cheap however. They involve precision engineered runic shells, altered concoctions of alchemists fire, cloud crown, jold components and clever mechanisms that promote detonation at the correct time and prevent detonation when not intended.
Such a facility must naturally be built to be completely fireproof, and be equipped with all the infrastructure, staff and equipment necessary to assemble munitions on a massive scale, for even if only a precious few A-bombs are produced and stored here at a time, that is more than enough to turn the tide of any conflict Vitruvia finds itself unfortunately involved in.

Trade: Trade gold to the Venks in exchange for Cloud Crown to be used in the Meniahattan Project

>>6238390

Extra: Kill the Fish

A nuisance is bothering our outbound shipping. This would generally be an issue small enough to ignore, but we must ensure our transport of cloud crown is safe and secure for the Meniahattan Project to safely reach terminus, and we are not intent on allowing our shipments of payment to be harassed.

As well as this, if our alchemical reagents, supplies of nachetar oil or other hazards fall into the lake, further issues might begin to crop up that would then need cleaning.

In truth, it’s yet to cause any real harm, but such issues are best resolved sooner rather than later.
The solution is simple. Deploy a military force to guard our ships and fire upon the fish with gjoldsteel bolts whenever it may emerge. Our intent is to kill the beast, its carcass might be valuable when vivisected.

>>6238018
Disaster. The Domo, the monsters who lurked to the south corrupted and devouring all things they could grasp were thought to be on the ropes after a coalition launched punitive action against them for their unrepentant acts in the creation of the Forsaken Dawn, and then afterwards their constant raiding and reaving, weakening defenders against the Nachetar scourge and providing them with more bodies to possess. Clearly, this is not the case as Barza's armies are scattered, and Justinian either lost or consumed by the Domo's last spiteful gasp upon Pavillion, using a perversion of the power of Justinian's divinely gifted artifact no less. Things are dire.

Action 1. A monster, made up with Luxor's own threads. A travesty of the highest order, and a threat of a magnitude unrivaled. It must be destroyed, yet it regenerates with every step it takes and all the life it leeches from Pavillion itself. A way to make sure the wounds stick is needed. Thus are weapons masters called. Thus are the logisticians and mystics gathered. Thus are the head of the faith sent to Beseech Luxor himself. A way to channel divine light, to sever and lessen the monstrous and unkind in his light. To enforce his truth upon those that ultimately have no place in it. Let his Hands Smite the wicked and leave nothing in its place.

Action 2
Justinian came to, into a world of agony, or pain unbridled connected to a thousand souls all in likewise pain screaming in fury and pian eager to lash out at any and everything that exists. He can feel this horror he had unwittingly unleashed upon Pavillion shambling forwards, ruining everything it can in order to slake its thirst for mana and destruction. Yet the Silver needle that binds it eats away at it every more. He reaches out with his will, in one last desperate gambit, for he is the King of the Barzantines, and as such he must do everything he can put to aright what he had made wrong. While hie has no control over his limbs, the needle may yet still answer his call. He attempts to use the needle to unbind it's own handiwork, to weaken the abomination it is wrapped up in.

Missionary Action: The hands and feet of Luxor go out to Adenai, to spread his word there.

Military Action: The domo military is broken, but that is the least of the Army of Barza's concerns. The monster that was once the Domo marches forth to bring ruin towards them and their homes. The Army disperses, harrying the beast striking it from the side with ballistas and bolts while geomancers create lava to eat at its feet. The Beasts capabilities are unknown, so harrying, wounding and slowing the beast is for the best until they can be sure what it can do.

>>6238023
>Diversity is not our strength. It is proof OF! Where lesser nations may fall to heresy and infighting, we milk the very stones of our opposition's heads for wisdom. And if none is found, then that stone is crushed to dust.
- Excerpt from tyrnly sermon from the Cognita Cathedral


Action 1: The Tuatha's Feth Fiada 6/8?: The Hafgufa's Losgann (Frog cult dedicated to the Hafgufa)
>>Skerpla 26th, Foggy age
>Young Loes missed evening class again. As did most Vodnik. Made note to Headmistress.
>>Skerpla 28th, Foggy age
>Followed young Loes at noon. Found her swimming in strange formation with fellow Vodnik. Spread and contract, away from coast. Flew after.
>Three mil away they congregated, sang in croaks for the glory of Terra's avenger, their "salvation", the Hafgufa.
>It appeared! Swam up, bounced them, fed them caught fish, they cleaned it. They jumped and were merry.
>I was worried for nothing.
- Robin's diary, 113

>I rowned that acceptacioun myghte nat be founde withoute champioun. I made suggestioun to the Hafgufa. Thei weren... ful stidfast.
- Reply from Vekt Mudamir to Habitun Council inquiry

>Bounty from Hafgufa cult increasingly exceeding minimum required fish production. Issue arises in the cult's desire to protect their... demigod. They wish to purchase weapons. I require relaxation in weaponry restrictions for non-alfar.
- Petition from Gronn Dal mayor to Habitun Council

>Terra need not act directly. If Kare's reincarnation was not a demonstration of a birth of one of Terra's wrathful champions, I know not what could be.
- Reply from Brother Snorri regarding Hafgufa veneration

>To worship Terra through a saint feels like a step towards apostasy. What values do they even believe in? Or preach?!
- Reply from Brother Saffer regarding Hafgufa veneration

>Request approved. Disseminate equipment as needed. Grant the cult same rates as Siblinghood. They serve Kare, and Kare serves Habitun.
- Reply from Habitun Council to Gronn Dal mayor petition

>>6239829
Action 2: Sword Surfing (1/?)
>Yeah I seen 'er. Last week she was standin' a canoe an' tryin' to brave the waves and ice witch's house without hands. Now she's doin' it with a flat board!
- Blue Eye Don's response to house Hitab's inquiry on Fisker whereabouts

>She came and asked for varying dimension pieces of wood, from 12 skruppel to a tomme thick, square and round, sphere to platter...
>When I asked what for she launched on a tirade about "air", "swells", "carves"... I asked if she had partaken in the Sukons' medicines, but she kept prattling on.
>Siemen came in to get his newest sword, and was intrigued by her nonsense. They left together, southwest they said.
- True Katan's response to house Hitab's inquiry on Fisker whereabouts

>T-they asked me for the winds! No, don't blame my poor Zurna, she only reacted to my... I mean THEIR request. I blow, she blows, hot flows into cold for the embrace it was always meant to, caressing one another for the long promised reunion they were destined fo-right right, we were making winds, they were testing them, and, they went over that one, and... Terra below are they sliding across those waves?
- Puca's response to house Hitab's inquiry on Fisker whereabouts


Agrimensores Guild: Scour Habitun for Magical Resources (1/3)


Intrigue Action: Scour Orcmanie for Wyverns (2/3)
>>Solmandur 11th, Fog age
>Tracked wyvern downstream, to sea, past port Sainac. Had to requisition boat. Night watchmen noticed neither of us.
>>Solmandur 15th, Fog age
>Following extrapolated line, in spite of faulty navigator, led to series of rocky crags. Spotted signs of large beast presence. Approaching stealthily.
>>Solmandur 16th, Fog age
>Found nest with eggs, and male nesting. Female out hunting. Continuing observation.
>>Solmandur 18th, Fog age
>Ship of no known markings hid amongst rocks. Loaded ballista shot down male as it returned with food.
>Female picked up two eggs and flew away north. Ship dismounted humans and orcs, whom loaded remaining eggs.
>>Solmandur 18th, Fog age
>Continuing pursuit of wyvern mother, north.
- Agrimensore Report #345

>>6239830
War: Continue to cripple Krovian supply lines
>Good news and better.
>Your horrendous performance in the last encounter has lead to inquiry. Complaints of lack of magic, vulnerability to mana impact, lack of centralized leadership, and such have all been noted and filed. House Sukon is working on producing countermanding solutions to your plight, warriors and scholars alike.
>Further, for this tyrn, you are recommended to sequester within the fortress walls alongside Skrit defenders, and prioritize ranged engagements. Preliminary scouts have shown the Haimen (Krovians) lacking in most forms of long-ranged armaments, and with the Krawl too exhausted to present arms, you should have an easy time of resisting their attacks, as long as the fort stands. Prioritize repair and defense, for this is an endurance march, and the Haimen (Krovians) are sprinters.
>Victory on the horizon. Take heart. Terra provides.
- Missive from Marshal Bjorn Sayyad of the Habitun forces to Nacheter command

>Strategem continues to bear fruit.
>Addition of Krawl entrenched defenders makes little difference, should subtle sabotage and swift retreat remain consistently viable.
>For combat against ambushes and entrenched high priority targets, new Ga Tilbake (Ouroboros symbiote) units should prove exceptionally effective. Sufficient supplies of Terra's Flesh will maintain energy levels at maximum, and the up-and-coming Smoking Quartz supplies should serve to further armor their fragile parts. Suggest dispatch of Sibling to maintain morale while snakes are replaced after expiry.
>The Haimen (Krovians) are in strange lands with little in the way of consistent supplies, and their only allies are too exhausted to aid much. They know this, and will likely place all they can on an assault at the fortress to break it once and for all. Should the Skrit and Nacheter carry out their duties, as surely as we carry out ours, we may yet see them broken this tyrn.
- Report from Marshal Bjorn Sayyad to Habitun council

> Vencia

> Vencia
Even on the far side of the continent the influence of the Luxos faith can be felt, though missionaries from those distant lands have not yet breached the borders of Vencia. Nonetheless, the occasional uncycledian bringing in goods from across the lake bears a holy symbol. Perhaps this is what stirs on the construction of the great abbey at Hallowthwait, bringing worship of Aegan front and center for the surrounding area. Or perhaps not.
The painting of the great undercroft occurs suddenly and with little warning, one evening it is it untouched, the next a great sweeping series of murals cover the ceiling, a somewhat dizzying pattern not unlike a great stained glass window. Each shard portrays a great and terrible battle, many of which appear to be drawn directly from history. At its center is the great winged bull, shielding a family of venks with his wings from the great maelstrom around them. Many of the largest shards remain blank, a small crisply folded note left behind simply reads ‘I will return as needed.’
In the north hunters have begun to bring back pelts of a ferocious breed of bear with a curious quality. In addition to the usual ferocity any bear possesses, these creatures have an uncanny habit of locking eyes with their prey, apparently freezing them with terror. It is true the bears have a tendency to appear quite terrifying from a distance, though most hunters find they’re quite a bit less terrifying after the second and third arrow sinks into them, the beasts habit of revealing itself dramatically quite working against it.
A sizable harpy, friendly in temperament, but unfortunately quite ill stirs up no end of rumors in Avesten, but sails away before long.

>>6238390
Extra Extra: Expand trade with Krovia

In exchange for the Krovians assisting in the murder of the Leviathan Pike, they’ll receive a considerable amount of wargear from our stockpiles of war materials as a reward for this noble deed (two turns worth of stuff).

Reserve runic gjoldsteel weaponry, suits of Gjoldsteel articulated armour, ageing Custodian Rocs and soon-to-expire potions as well, choice items from our full arsenal (excluding any developments related to our current classified project).

>>6238024
Action 1: Planes of Existence?
The College of Wild Magic has created a great success in more ways than one. While the existence of other planes has always been speculated this is the first time that there is potential evidence for such places. So the mages get to work dissecting the new chaotic spell to find the part that allows for the summoning of these fire spirits and modifying it; aiming to either summon spirits willing to talk or allow them to glimpse into the home of these fire spirits.

Action 2: Just shoot them
While their new northern island home has been peaceful the recent pirate attack has given a shake up that has brought the need for military improvement to the forefront again. Observers from the mainland has also shown that many nations have worked towards their own methods of anti-magic; a worrying prospect. However, no anti-magic works on a spell already completed and the simplest magic that anyone can learn is telekinetics. So the answer becomes simple: get better at throwing stuff with magic. While it's already possible to do with magic many believe that the magic can be made more efficient; creating an impulse of energy to shoot their target instead of a longer spell.

>Action 1 - Mobile Snail Herders
The mushroom islands of the south are an idyllic paradise. Calm, warm waters lap at sandy beaches of bright sand, and as long as one doesn't have serious allergies, the island bears little threat to it's inhabitants. It is a gentle place, but, of course, it was not always so.
Beneath even the deepest stretches of mycelial roots, ancient specimens of devolved Murostats lurk in shallow pools that dot the caverns riddling the island's underground. These beasts have lost what little thought and sapience they used to have, but what remains is all the more valuable to the Krovians. Tasty, tasty meat. The Turbaned orcs have claimed vast swathes of the snails for their own, but there are always more.

The eggs of the snail-like creatures are brought into the light of their once-home, and under the watchful eyes of their Krovian shepherds, allowed to infest and overtake some maned frogs. When fresh brood burst from the hairy amphibians, more of the eggs are carted off to the Capital. Drevino will want to see this, a species that can turn the despicable into a delicacy.

>Action 2 - Prospect Champion's Glade. [Military, not food]
Recent explorations have found a wonder unlike any other. When a Krovian explorer sipped from a pool he had just discovered, he found his mind growing foggy and his limbs heavy. Waking had him seeing wonders that no other Krovian had ever witnessed.

The top of the mushrooms.
...
Krovians are not a naturally curious folk.

Still, these waters became a treasured secret, for all of the time it took for the explorer to return home and brag about his new strength and size. Mighty as he was, he could not subdue a team of eager Krovians willing to beat the answer out of him, and so, reluctantly, the wonders of the Glade were made known to the wider world. Soon enough, like anything good a Krovian gets, Pulse Shamans began restricting access to it, ensuring only the finest and mightiest of warriors were allowed to partake in it's blessings.

>War Post - Hunt the Habitun interlopers.
"Reschedule a Krovians' dinner." ~ Vitruvian idiom meaning "Doing something difficult that gets you killed".
The Dark Elves have gone too far. Attacking for no reason? Not only an not an offense, it's almost a courteous greeting. Doing so from behind the Krovian battle lines, away from their warriors? Downright blasphemous.
The army wheels around, forging south along their supply lines. Let the ants and the Nacheter cower in their forts. The Krawl, once recovered, can scour them out.
Besides, these elves taste FAR better than the lousy ants!

>Free Action - Scouting
With the aid of the Krawl, and the shrinking supply line as the Krovians abandon the front, the Krovians look to the shadows and the skies, eager to suss out the location of these interlopers. Far and wide through the jungles shall the Krovians roam, and once word reaches the main force, they shall bear down on the elves with a hunger of the elves own making.

>>6238024
These actions are committed to defend the nation, forward Our progress on Our magic troubles, and recuperate for the next brawl.

>1 ERachnication
Rachni, this supposed other consciousness, some kind of spider queen, needs evicted at once, in one way or another. And so, We have decided that this supposed queen will be filtered out of Our amorphous troops with collective effort from all living high krawl. Limbs may be shed, and some troops may remain in shambles for the moment, but their genetic code remains, and may be regrown over time. She will be given a physical form with the departed biomass, a means to conduct her business once more, and a destination for her new hive to start. Unfortunately, before she can be sent away, We must determine what exactly We are creating here. We hope that this results in the creation of another satellite hivemind colony, like that of Otorso in the Turbans’ territory. Once we know, then We may negotiate where it will go, in trade with another nation. In great distance, Rachni will finally leave Our immediate collective conscience, and finally allow Us to open the gate to Our (magic school instructor), Darkroe. We, the high krawl, tell Rachni directly that while her presence is not welcome, it is respected.

>2 The bunker in the canyon (City)
Construct a new kind of fortress, similar to that of Our hive. On the north edge of the chasm that encompasses the lava fungus, fungal farms, healing pools, forge, refinery, nursery, xelles, and many other features integral to krawl life and reproduction, We dig out the space for a new city to take shape. This fortress will be known as the Lacerated Bunker Sphere, as most degrees surrounding the city are encompassed by the land, yet open to the air by a great many holes in the ceiling. Others are open to the rest of the chasm, which allows for easy travel in and out, for the krawl that float by in doing this. Its interior has an almost skeletal structure of remaining stone features, which stretch across the walls and open space in huge intersections and connections.
(Pic related: Red Cross marks the new fort.)

>War: exhaustion!
Pull back to patrol the trade route, and rest at the newly constructed Lacerated Bunker Sphere.

>Intrigue
Assist the Krovians in hunting down those pesky goblins of shadows. Elves, We mean. They should be hiding along Our trade route. We have heard from the Krovians that the elves exploit portals to defeat Us, and that these portal gates emit a high-pitched hum for roughly a minute before they open. With this knowledge, we should investigate, and consider the possibility of pursuing them down their wormholes before they open by matching their locations and this frequent rate of spin in Our own spinning vortexes.

>>6238026
Report on Lesser Activities to Cyra, Noreusper of Guliseare, executioner of Thessa, bane of Kaenum, unifier of the Aripan, Ruler of all the hallowed mountains, Aelelox's chosen prophet, most blessed and holy Aripan to fly upon the skies and walk upon the earth.

The Holy Army has suffered further losses, however a possible destruction of the force has been avoided thanks to Ourania, shockingly enough. Reports from the forces there and Illias report she is, for the time being, content to stay with the army. Though, a recent meeting with one of the Ordalan has her attempting to lead it to aid in the destruction of an unholy abomination. I can only hope she doesn't go on another flight of fancy across the world like I believe she will and gains some discipline sooner rather than later. However, I have my doubts.

Your faithful servant, Kallixeina.

>Action One. The survey for an arena.
The unique proposition given by the Orcmaine is one that will be bound to draw much in the way of attention from all Aripan and potentially convince more to take up arms, even if in a very...different way. Revenge, glory, a simple desire to prove Aripan Superiority or purge the heretic, all are reason to fight in a grand arena that will have the northerners and orcs. But the first thing that must be done is to find the best spot for it. Ideally right in the crossroads between the boarder of our lands, the Orcmaine, and the northerners. Should this location prove ill suited, another could always be found elsewhere.

>Action Two. Faith beyond measure.
Some reports from the last battle the battered Holy army has faced have shown that the corrupt southern barbarians have methods of obscuring Aelelox's light through vile Kaenumite magics and trickery. As such, it is clear that more needs to be done to ensure Aelelox's will be done. A method must be devised to ensure that no disruption to our prayer, no disruption to our blessed toil, no disruption to Aelelox's smite be allowed. Naturally, the best way to empower our calls to Aelelox is through faith. Perhaps the incense could be put to greater use and more ornate and grand displays of worship utilized?

>War Action
The Holy Army and Ourania is to aid the Ordalan and Barza in defense/dealing with the Domo. (I don't have time for more detailed post)

> Not an action:
Considering I accidentally got a drug that let's me speed up mental time without advewrse effectso n the body I can actually give it to my Spirit-walkers.

Afterall they detach their mind from the body. With that they can very rapidly scout out enemy pisiutions withotu giving the enemy even time to react and being able to move around in their detached mid form shoudl help prevent the insanity the injestion of the drug usually brings.

> Action 1: Save the (South) Domo
The war the nation is embroiled in has turned most of the population into a giant corpse monster. That's probably not to good. How will they pay us for our mercenary work? We even won for once.

To secure the the future of the Domo nation and race, We shall create a pupper state from all unoccupied baseduthern Domo lands. Their lords have been pestering us with requests to do that anyhow.
(If the guy playing Domo wants to he can keep playing as the puppet)

> Action 2: Bioweapons
With the Krawl we shall improve our bioweapons. Shrink the funny chickens and give them parasite-like properties. They shall connect to a host body and start rapidly producing either midbreak or speed potion. Basically consume nutrients from the host body to rapidly produce potion to inject into them.

> War Action: The Krawl need out help and they said they'll pay. Time to go help them fight... ants?

Well that seams hard to fight. We shall march to join up with the crawl army. What we expect to be most effective against the ants is launching burning coals from catapults at them.

By the great grace of our Lord Aagen,
who has granted us this tyrn of the sun, I, King Yaran II of the Venks do hereby order;
>An adjoining wing be erected at the College of Notables wherein weapons of arms may be formulated and worked - and also the purchasing of grounds near it for experimenting with such
>Roads throughout Vencia to be increased, with firstmost a northerly way onto which the Dwarves of Urotti may hitch their own network

>>6238020
Queen Trude has grown old and grey since taking the throne, her rule has been controversial owing to the lengths she went to for the defence of Sturnes, as well as failing to keep unity with Emberglen. Soon enough, her time comes, she is not afraid of death, being a devoted follower of Hilda. But in being so devoted, her pyre is a more private affair, as she doesn't want the same grandeur followers of other gods would. But that then leaves the matter of who the next queen will be.

>Action 1: Establish the Emberglen Boatworks. Built southeast of Emberglen, it provides riverboats for navigating up and down the river.
The Nixen has not had much of a naval tradition, but as Ordalan grows it will be necessary to have some sort of naval force, especially if future wars are to happen along the streams. Thus boatworks are made downstream of Emberglen, making riverboats that help ferry along forces and supplies for southward operations, as well as building up a force capable of contesting any enemy river force going at our cities.

>Action 2: Pyronix taming. Improvements in handling leads to more battle-ready Pyronixen, as well as better control.
While the Pyronixen see success in the Domo jungle, the methods of handling them continues to evolve. Pyronix veterans coach their juniors in handling the fire coursing through their veins, though crucially they employ a new approach to handling berserk Pyronixen. Due to the high rank of most who undergo the Pyronix transformation, many of the attendants are hesitant to bring any harm upon the fledgeling Nixen. The veterans however often beat the Pyronixen to a point that would kill regular Nixen. One reason for this is that Pyronixen never get ill, as their body temperature acts like a constant fever. So while a Nix left in a weakened state is at risk of dying of infection or illness, a Pyronix has no such concern. This new approach greatly accelerates the taming of Pyronixen, to the point that they can raise the threshold where a Pyronix is considered battle-ready, thus improving the control of our current fighting force. The emergence of veteran Pyronixen is also a boon, as they are much better at reining in their juniors.

>Military: Launch attack on the Domo death titan advancing through Barza lands, using mostly elite forces and employing Guliseare air transports.
Sasha the Burning Blade has heard of a massive Nachetar spawn summoned by the Domo. Sasha herself has grown old, but the rage against the Domo burns just as bright, and she wishes to sink her burning blade into the flesh of this mountain of death. For this she requisitions the aid of Guliseare to transport a large elite force to the Barza front. Using a force of Pyronixen, Pyre Axes, Lightning Lancers, Anelk Songwings and a hand picked selection of her greatest Red Hood Vagrants, she intends to bring down this titan, to hopefully destroy what remains of the Domo's mad dream, and end this war.

>>6238026
> Action 1: Advanced Metallurgy Research
Amid the forges and workshops of the Urotti, the call went out for the smiths of the realm to gather at the newly built forges for a moot. Guildmasters and smiths of renown were spurred to action by clan pride and crown incentive alike, each eager to claim mastery over a new element metalcraft. From the red-glow of furnace to the icy bite of quenching trough, the forges roared day and night. Some sought alloys of resilience, meant to line the piping and pressure-vaults of the deep roads, immune to rot, corrosion, and wear. Others took on a more personal challenge: to create a metal worthy of the Champions’ Anvil. Alloys were poured, shattered, reforged. Some gleamed like burnished moonlight, others hummed faintly with strange resonance when struck.

> Action 2: Construction of dedicated temples and shrines to the Pantheon and Paragon
Beneath stone arch and vaulted gallery, in the every heart of the holds, the Crown decreed a sacred labor. With careful reverence, the dwarves raised temples dedicated to the memory of the tribe from which they all descend from—the ancient kin from which all clans draw their blood. Hewn of deepstone and engraved with age-old lineage, these public shrines became places of both worship and remembrance. Statues of the Paragons—the exemplars of courage, craft, and sacrifice—were raised beside sacred flame and rune-inscribed stone. Here the people might kneel and whisper their thanks, or leave token offerings to seek guidance in hard times.

>Mold the mind.
Free will adds layers of complexities and risks to the way of Skritsciety. It is a delicate balance after all, each skrit knows its place and purpose. The Skritar though, burdened with the kindling of sentience, lack such clarity. Thus Central takes steps to ensure that the Skritari become properly "educated" as to their what is expected of them and how to serve the swarm. Taking queues from the Venks and the Cult, it identifies the perfect tool for the job: Religion. And so Central becomes "Mother", the life giver of the Skritari, she who lives within and among them in the form of the swarm. May they serve her well, praise her for bringing them into the world, and make her proud!

>Develop siege weapons
For as long as Central can remember, war has been thought with mandible and antennae clashing with the occasional object or acidic spit lobbed around. It is time to change this. It begins to develop weapons and contraptions specialized in striking entire areas. Soon enough it comes to same conclusion many others have known for a long time: Catapults are great.

>>6238050
>Doom?
The Domo nation is, without doubt, gone. It’s very zeitgeist devoured by dark ritual, its leaders bound into a god of flesh and hunger, its people scattered, broken, and under the heel of orc and elf and harpy. But the dark god that they brought with them from across the sea still hungers. And the people who were once Domo are easy prey, robbed of their zeitgeist as a nation that once made them more than a group of individuals, even where they gather in bandit camps and savage makeshift fortresses. Slaug and Gnoll, Lamia and Beastman, all those outside the bounds of a true nation fade and vanish in the darkness of night, in twos and threes. In their place new creatures are born from the flesh of Kholan, pale men of bone with no faces, night black women with a dozen twisting legs who always smile. A land of horrors and nightmares. A warning, of the price paid and the consequences thereof.

>>6238279
>Orcmanie
It is a time of great expansion of Orcmanie’s reach, as boats set sail to the north and the families of soldiers set out to the south. To the north boats cut across the waters, staying well away from Habitun waters that have become concerningly riddled with dangerous amounts of large jagged icebergs. Once past this danger they land at Tojhuset where all the wonders of the dwarven land are open to them, and much of the lands beyond as well, for the Urotti are connected by road and dock to the greater lake region as well. One could speak at length of all the wonders of the dwarven lands, of platinum and silver, obsidian jewels, finely runed arms and armor, but alas there is only so much time for telling.
To the south life is far simpler as the ruins and bodies of the Domo city are buried and atop them a new city of Colnaude is constructed. It is a city of veterans, of flowing beer and a great many children. Mixed in among them are the Slaug, blue skinned orcs long ago adopted by the Domo, but many of them took up worship of Ganuz when the Orcmanie priesthood came some tyrns ago and were spared the madness of the Domo when it swept the land. In a generation’s time pure blooded Slaug have all but vanished, but their blue hues and stronger orcish features appear in many of the children of the city, especially in poorer areas.

>>6238386
>Vitruvia
The Alchemy Bomb is a terrifying thing, even by Vitruvian standards. Imported cloud cotton is alchemically processed (usually in the harbor) to purify and intensify the flammability effect into a potent elixir. Then a large metal egg, twenty hands high, is constructed at the munitions factory. Carved with runes of cooling and durability and intricately designed it is filled with three layers of material, each kept carefully separated. Coal, Alchemist Fire,and Flammability Elixir. The egg is designed in such a way that when dropped the layers separating the materials rupture creating a volatile flaming mixture. At designated weak points in the egg the flaming mixture erupts outward with incredible force, causing the egg to spin and emit a massive gyre of flame. Only occasionally does the egg land at the wrong angle and instead careen wildly in a random direction, leaving a fiery trail of devastation in its wake.
Alas, the fish hunting exercise bears little fruit. Perhaps the great Kha-pike has simply tired of tormenting Vitruvian ships, or perhaps the sight of circling rocs and ships brimming with weaponry has convinced the great fish to seek easier prey elsewhere. On the other hand a few isolated Krovian hunters do entirely vanish as well, perhaps the great fish prefers flesh to wood.

>>6239775
> Constantine the Regent of Barza
From darkness the monster came, and from light will its form be banished once more. Or so the people of Barza hope. Priests and smiths turn their efforts to the forging of a weapon to kill a god. The result is an advancement on prayer folded steel, forged in the heart of the basilica. This new metal glows softly with the light of a new dawn, though it only blazes with the fury of Luxor’s light in the hands of the truly faithful.
The mercy of death. Or the cruelty of life. The words swim in Justinian’s head, though he does not remember who spoke them or why, only his choice to keep living, keep climbing, keep fighting. Every movement is pain. It takes time to realize there are silver threads woven through him, ripping and rubbing raw flesh with every movement. It takes time to realize he is climbing a mountain of living corpses. Hands grab and claw at him, mouths snap and bite. But onward he climbs. Somewhere above is the needle.
The Barzan army hounds the great monster as best it can, only for it to turn and lash out with a many jointed limb that flays and separates into a net of muscle and tendons, ensnaring and devouring hundreds of soldiers in a single strike. Panic overtakes the Barzans and the army scatters leaving the fortress to face the beast alone. The beast wades through bolt and stone and arrow with contempt, smashing the fortress into rubble with barely a pause as it continues northward.

>>6239829
> Habitun cult
A cult in a cult, the Hafgufa's Losgann is composed entirely of the frogkin long ago transplanted and indoctrinated into the worship of Terra. They quickly become fiercely protective of the great fish, following him in the waters, bringing offerings of choice fish and prey from the forest to the tune of frogsong and forming an honor guard to travel with the great fish at all times. Their slavish worship is viewed with no small amount of unease however, Kare was hardly the most stable individual, even after a round in the asylum. Some quietly whisper that contingencies should be put into place should Kare’s pride swell beyond his loyalty, and what can swell pride more than worship as a god?
The use of shadow magic as a form of telekinesis, manipulation of a shadow to manipulate the core object has always been subject to no small number of limitations. It works poorly on living things, who naturally resist the spell even if they are unaware of it. Naturally it falters when there is a lack of shadow to work with, or too much shadow the spell attempts to latch onto entire buildings instead of small objects. Size of course has always been an issue, for all things there is a price, and the price to lift a tree trunk is much higher than the price to lift a single leaf. Still, with a combination of shadow manipulations and fumamancy some of these can be alleviated. Not so for weight unfortunately, the cloak of smoke researchers manage to manifest improves speed and lightens the body certainly, and allows one any number of dramatic acts of supernatural grace and dexterity. Some would even call such acts radical. But to actually fly for any length of time one would need vast reserves of mana.
In a concerning note, the young, treason suspected, child of house Hitab has completely vanished, along with his personal belongings. The new is devastating to his parents, who assume foul play, though more detached minds assume the worst instead.

>>6242335
>The Tower Archmage of Vizari
The mysterious fire sprites have sparked a flurry of curiosity among the Vizari, namely where do they come from? When manifested the creatures seem to take on the capricious nature of fire itself, delighting in zipping about and sowing flames, often in places that will slowly grow unnoticed until they become unstoppable infernos. Watching the little menaces for long term, a difficult task given they move with remarkable speed through the air, reveals that they fade over time, growing more transparent and glasslike until they vanish from view altogether. Careful study of the spell that first revealed them allows a more harmless reproduction, manifesting sparkling clear sprites of telekinetic power instead, though possessed of all the mischievous nature of their fiery brethren, immediately adjusting lab equipment to precarious settings, rearranging shelves such that a single removed item will bring all the contents down, and in one case even pumping water from a well and positioning a bucket over a doorway, an effort that required five sprites working together. The conclusion is that these sprites are ever present, somehow living invisibly along the eddies and flows of magic, but that the correctly constructed magic can empower them, letting them become living spells for a brief time. Attempts to manipulate them with mind magic backfired in spectacular fashion, ending with three researchers naked on the rooftop, childish insults scrawled onto their bodies.
In more practical research, a series of refinements to various telekinetic spells has yielded various increases to effectiveness and efficiency that should be useful on the field of battle. Most improvements focus on removing unneeded wastes of magic, propelling a knife across the battlefield is impressive, but hurling a bundle of thin shrapnel into the air and letting gravity handle the matter from there is just as effective, but costs significantly less mana. Likewise using direct touch based spells to store power mechanically in catapults, trebuchets and crossbows is more effective than propelling the heavy stones oneself.

>>6242484
>Krovian Bands
Rediscovering the molluscoids is a source of great joy for the krovians after so long thought lost to the world, though it rapidly becomes apparent that the Drevino’s dream of a roving herd of snails that transforms waste into food may be further away than he’d like. Certainly the molluscs will eat nearly enough, and reproduce quickly given large enough slabs of meat, but the savage creatures have no capacity to self regulate. There are several accidents where entire herds of pigs and ostriches are destroyed by one or two of the slug like creatures, who then turn on each other in a vicious spiral of cannibalism before expiring from lack of water. In the end the beasts are kept contained in great pits along the river bank, where otherwise inedible or undesirable food can be hurled into them, namely thousands and thousands of ant corpses sent drifting down the river.
A strange mushroom glade is discovered on the southern isles, surrounded by mushrooms of colossal size that tower over even the great temple at the capital. Those who rest within the glade wake to find themselves grown larger, and after a week’s time find themselves twice their original size, though the effect seems to be limited to this. Such a mighty size is of course quite desirable to most krovians, though unfortunately it does come with an even greater appetite. The effect seems to fade slowly, only a few inches each year, though even this is enough to cause a never ending scheduling crisis of which krovians deserve time in the glade, and how much shrinkage is acceptable before a return visit.

>>6242707
>The Krawl
Dividing the Rachni thought processes from the rest of the hivemind is a fairly simple task, all things considered, for it quickly becomes apparent that the Rachni also want free of the Krawl’s grip as well. For now they seem content to stew in the partition of the land set aside for them, building hives and breeding various war forms as they always have.
The frontlines of the Krawl-Skrit war grow ever more congested with fortresses as the Krawl fortify the area, laying down barricades and ditches alongside pockets of Krawl standing by to respond to any intrusion.

>>6243031
>The Divine Republic of Guliseare
A sizable area is scouted out for the new arena between nations, nestled nicely into the hills. A small nearby cliffside will allow for local aripan facilities to be built in comfort, while a sizable stretch of flatland nearby will serve well for the Orcmen to build any local construction they need to house fighters and armorers. A small cave network might even serve to keep the Habitun out of sight until they’re needed to die in the arena. A perfect fit really.
The cultivation of faith is a difficult task. One can talk of prayers murmured, incense burned, grand cathedrals and works of art, but all of these things are ultimately only actions, only movements of muscle, the burning of plants, and the tang of chords in the throat. What meaning do they have to Aelelox? And are they done in faith, or are they just the posturing of pride, the egotistical mania of a power hungry fool who wishes to curry favor from his betters, without truly understanding the nature of faith? Not all Aripan can carry the true flame of faith, one that burns hot enough to annihilate all other powers, that dispels all shadows and fog that might dare enter the heart.
In the darkest depths of the Sonistia temple there is the Chamber of the Faithful. Any may enter it, but only the truly faithful leave, and very few do. Those that survive do not speak of the encounter. Those that return, return changed, purified, all traces of color removed, save eyes of red. They speak only in hymns, and they move only in service to Aelelox. They are unbreakable weapons, the truly faithful, but they are precious and few.

>>6243811
>Turquoise Turbans
Emissaries to the Domo find open arms, indeed where the land is not devastated by bandits and wildmen there are desperate and scared refugees who are eager to swear loyalty to the Turbans. Supplies flood into the region, bringing together scattered Domo who form a new city and relocate the ancient Grummtusk herds. And not a tyrn too soon, for in the more distant reaches beyond the new vassal state there is a strange and terrible curse, transforming the citizens into monsters of utter darkness and pale bone.
Refining the stumblebird into something more predatory is a complex and dangerous endeavor. Ultimately what is created are stumblebird variants who lay clusters of small eggs in a sticky foam. On contact with living flesh they hatch into a larval state and burrow inward. After a few days their victim begins experiencing high levels of exposure to whatever variant potion the larva produces. Eventually the victim is torn apart from the inside by a flock of stumblebirds.
Turban armies begin the long trek to the northern jungles, though it shall be sometime before they arrive. The first leg of their journey sees them
return home to board ships and begin sailing for the Krovian dock.

>>6243847
>Yaran II, King of the Venks
The College of Notables expands outward with forges and smithies, as well as paddocks, arenas and targeting ranges for the testing of whatever weapons the college produces. There is room for ballista to fire or horses to gallop, as well as other oddities and curious additions, apparently one of the professors has a live bear from the north who supposedly has ‘death’s own eyes’, at least according to nachetars aiding the research.
Roads sprawl onward and outward through the kingdom, snaking northword across the tundra toward the dwarven lands, though travelers on them are uneasy about the nearby frost golems in the blizzard.

>>6243848
>Kingdom of Ordalan
Ordelan's riverboats are fairly unique compared to other vessels, made for fast travel up and down the river, featuring wide flat hulls and relying heavily on poles and ores to move up the river. The presence of steady river traffic serves to tie together the region, allowing rapid movements of troops and supplies.
The sorrowful tale of the pyronixen takes an ugly turn, with the latest round of recruits being viewed more as wild animals to be tamed than soldiers to be trained. The savage beatings, degradation and neglect result in a rash of suicides, escapees, and deaths from illness, a new heat resistant plague sweeping though the ranks. With the poor prospects of their future, there's a very real risk of the pyronixen burning out entirely.

>>6244078
>Skrit
Central, the great mother of the Skritari, living goddess on earth. The concept certainly has a pleasing ring to it, though the Skritari themselves take to it with varying degrees, a divine mother is admittedly less divine when you can meet with her in person, and less still when you can argue with her. Still, the concept does take root, even if Skritari religion is more based on true gratitude than divine awe, and with it strange new things emerge in the Skrit world, art, music, culture and customs. Most peculiar.
War, like the endless legions of the Skrit, is always evolving, and it fast becomes apparent that the tools of the wild will need to be augmented with something more. Great bones of flexible chitin are lashed and fastened together into a sophisticated construct designed to be mounted on a medqa giant beetle. A mobile catapult, powered with twisted assemblages of spider silk woven cord wound through cranks and gears turned by thousands of tiny legs. The Skritari spend an entire afternoon lobbing stones at distant targets.

>>6244043
>Urotti
The forges are warmed, the water wheels greased, the bellows cleaned and ready. For an entire month masters of their craft from across the kingdom gather together and raise hammer and stein high in honor of the art of metal. A hundred alloys are measured, formed, smithed and quenched. Then comes the testing of the metals, against each other and staples of the craft. Numerous improvements are made, but the most curious alloy is of amber steel and reverb iron. The resulting Song Steel is a fine and sturdy metal, able to stand against its peers but bears a strange property. The alloy must be formed with a song, and grows as soft as clay when it is sung again. Hard as steel, and trivial to repair, should one know the secret song, soon each smith has their own secret verse to protect their wares.
Praise paragon and pantheon, heroes of old and standards to live by! Shrines and temples spring up across the land, and one large one near the capital, celebrating the ancestors of old and the mastery of their skills.

> WAR

> Jungle Japes
The war in the jungle continues. The Krovians forces spend their days taunting the Nachetar forces, torturing the oil slicks in plain view of the fortress, before acknowledging with a sigh that the elves assaulting their supply lines needed to take priority. At least they taste better! The columns have scarce formed up and began to march however when the great bulk of Zabacraw’s reanimated remains bursts from the ground in a full assault on the krovian forces, backed up by red feathered harpies dropping from the trees. The Krovians are forced back, yielding territory to the healing pools of the Krawl before the Nachetar advance is halted and they can turn their efforts toward the elves plaguing their supply lines.
Unfortunately and unbeknownst to the Krovians the Habitun have had a major stroke of luck, discovering an adjacent reality where large swathes of the countryside are facing catastrophic outbreaks of molluscoid infections, providing numerous staging grounds for reality hops with easy access to the krovian supply lines. Krovian scouts manage to keep pace with the elves, but unfortunately can provide little more than token resistance, with the main army always lagging several steps behind. In the end the Krovians are forced into retreat not by strength of arms, but by gnawing stomaches, and must take a tyrn to rebuild their supplies before they return to battle.

> Monster Mash
The combined forces of Ordelan and Guliseare join forces, leaving the worst of their wounded and disabled airships to slowly return to Ordelan to cut across the Domo lands in hopes of catching up to the horrific monster as it marches northward. It is by the light of a full moon that the monster comes into view, over a hundred feet high, shining silver threads weaving in and out its body which seems to be a mix of mutilated flesh and ancient tree bark forced into a human shape. The harpies strike from on high while the Ordelan go for the legs of the beast, hoping to topple it with flame and axe. The monstrous titan swats at both armies as though they are little more than insects, and indeed each swing of its arms carves a bloody path through the nixen, hurling soldiers hundreds of feet to their deaths. High above them a powerful ray of holy light, the combined power of a dozen priests, lashes out into, then through, the eye of the beast and it topples shrieking and flailing onto the ordelan army. Parts of the monster split and swarm out like snakes, strangling and devouring hundreds of nixen in moments, tearing their bodies asunder and adding them to its own even as soldiers desperately hack and hew. The monster stands, shedding or devouring clinging nixen. Moonlight shines through the hole in its head and one great baleful eye stares at the harpy fleet. Then it begins to scream, louder and higher until ears bleed and vision swims. The harpy fleet hangs helplessly in the air, its pilots and soldiers retching and barely able to stand or hear as the monster continues its way to the north.

----END TURN 27---