Chronicles of Aldelor IC
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><span class="post-heading post-heading-">Chronicles of Aldelor</span><span class="post-heading post-heading-">Act 1: The Beginning</span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><div style="text-align: center"><span data-s9e-mediaembed="youtube"><span><span style="background:url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/ADzazbh1WG0/hqdefault.jpg) 50% 50% / cover" data-s9e-mediaembed-iframe="[&quot;allowfullscreen&quot;,&quot;&quot;,&quot;scrolling&quot;,&quot;no&quot;,&quot;style&quot;,&quot;background:url(https:\/\/i.ytimg.com\/vi\/ADzazbh1WG0\/hqdefault.jpg) 50% 50% \/ cover&quot;,&quot;src&quot;,&quot;https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/ADzazbh1WG0&quot;]"></span></span></span><br>
<br>
<b>Day 1, Month 1 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle. </b>​</div><br>
<br>
Nations rise.<br>
<br>
Nations fall.<br>
<br>
New nations are built from the ashes.<br>
<br>
Such as been a cycle that’s existed in Aldelor since its creation. With every new nation, the world sees another shift in the fabric of time. New ideals are brought to Aldelor. New homes are built. Species that were once few in number begin to flourish. Alternatively, the birth of a new nation could mark the end of a species as well. One can never know how things will play out among Aldelorians.<br>
<br>
For the fairies, the choosing of a king is a coming of age ceremony. It is when a fairy makes a bond with their chosen monarch and leaves the fairy realm to find a new home. A new source of strength. As such, a fairy always desires for their kingdom to grow stronger. They will search high and low for the person they believe can build them their desired kingdom.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“With all due respect, M'Liege, can we get this shindig started already?”</span><br>
<br>
Well, some of them anyway.<br>
<br>
A half-hearted glare directed towards the smallest of the fairies gathered, the Fairy King rose from his throne. Raising his scepter, the winged male spoke in a voice that wasn’t extraordinarily loud, let could be heard from every single corner of his realm.<br>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center"><a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/1544923416135-png.514252/" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.rpnation.com/data/attachments/451/451214-83328a56d7c464a29a544a0b8d3c3fac.jpg" class="bbImage " style="" alt="1544923416135.png" title="1544923416135.png" width="72" height="100" loading="lazy"></a>​</div><br>
<b>“The time has come, my Fairies, to welcome new kings into our sacred land! Call them--your chosen monarchs! From wherever they may be and whatever race they hail, bring them to our realm so that new pacts might be made and a new chapter in Aldelor's history might unfold!”</b><br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b>GM Message: </b>Teleport your character to the fairy realm and rp out your king's meeting with your fairy. The fairy king is in the throne room as with many fairies. However, your characters do not have to be in the throne room if you don't want to be (the fairies can hear their king from anywhere). There's a picture of the fairy realm in the lore page. You can also add new areas to the fairy realm if you want. I'll allow a lot of creative freedom so long as nothing goes against lore (or each other's posts).<br>
<br>
<i><b>Arc 1 will end in 25 posts </b></i></div>
				
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				Last edited: <time class="u-dt" dir="auto" datetime="2018-12-27T02:37:57-0500" data-time="1545896277" data-date-string="Dec 27, 2018" data-time-string="2:37 AM" title="Dec 27, 2018 at 2:37 AM" itemprop="dateModified">Dec 27, 2018</time>
			
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<br>
Lillare found Mergim gazing at the surrounding island from the balcony just outside the throne room.  She seemingly glided beside him and lifted her pale hands to rest on the balcony rail.  They stood in silence a moment, admiring the view.<br>
<br>
"Your homeland is beautiful," Mergim finally said.<br>
<br>
Lillare noted the unease in his voice before nodding appreciatively.  "It is, but this chapter of my life is over.  My home—now and forever—will be by your side in the Froreland."<br>
<br>
"Won't you miss this?" Mergim asked while motioning to the lush tropics of the island.  "It's what I imagined paradise would look like for warm-bloods."<br>
<br>
She shook her head.  "For fairies, paradise comes in many colors and temperatures.  Besides, there's no purpose for me here, and fairies need purpose more than we need clear blue skies."<br>
<br>
"Are you sure you've chosen the right purpose?"  Mergim asked.  He watched the fairy closely.<br>
<br>
Lillare grinned and nodded.  "As sure as I've ever been in my life." Her voice sounded as if she held back a giggle.<br>
<br>
Mergim's expression suggested he wanted to share a smile with her, but he never permitted it.  "Why me?  I've never governed a clan, yet you picked me to rule every dwarf?"<br>
<br>
Lillare turned and faced the befuddled dwarf.  Her violet eyes conveying utter admiration for him. "I've watched you, Mergim Neverthaw: your mind is sharp, your body is strong, but it's your heart that steers you.  You're assertive.  Brave.  Merciful.  You have everything required to be great leader, and now you finally have the opportunity."<br>
<br>
Mergim nodded to himself. Not with vanity, but with acceptance.  "What now?" He asked before exhaling out the last remnants of his self-doubt.<br>
<br>
"Now you must meet the others.  If Cryogane is to prosper it will need allies."<br>
<br>
Mergim stroked his beard in contemplation for a moment before smiling warmly up at the fairy.  "Thank you, Lillare, for everything."<br>
<br>
"You're very welcome, My King."<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>24 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>ARRAN'AK</b>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 9<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
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Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div>In the kingdom of <span style="font-size: 15px">Arran'ak things went well the crops grew and the people worked. It would be the very model of a truly successful kingdom if not for the fact that many that did the labor were dead. <span style="font-size: 15px">Arran'ak was a kingdom run by the dead, where ancient masters taught new pupils in arts that would normally have been lost and where the farms were not tended by a sizable portion of the population, but instead by skeletons of generations past. If there was such a concept of modrenization then <span style="font-size: 15px">Arran'ak would likely be a poster child, for thanks to the dead the living were allowed to seek out more skilled work and had time to be educated in many subjects by teachers who could have very well invited the concepts they taught. This was a land were all were welcome where human, elf, dwarf, undead, and all others could live an join in on a shared culture.</span></span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px">Still death could not be eternally pushed back for everyone and thus today like any other day in any other nation people died. Still in <span style="font-size: 15px">Arran'ak this was not a cause for mourning, there would be no burials or wakes, the dead would soon enough be back amount the living. The bodies were taken and bathed in special alchemical baths that stripped the flesh from bone and left a clean skeleton. The bones were then inspected and reinforced as needed before a necromancer would give the dead bones the energy to move once more. This could all be done locally for necromancer were not in short supply and the raising of skeletons was a simple task. A harder task was calling the soul back which often cost a modest price to pay for reagents and time. Many times the soul came back as a ghost yo continue amount the living while other times they refused and were allowed to rest. Today was no diffrent and in towns and villages the necromancer went about thier tasks to bring the dead back while midwives helped new mothers bring more life to <span style="font-size: 15px">Arran'ak.</span></span></span><br>
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<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-size: 15px"><b>23 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</b></span></span></span></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
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<br>
[div class=fyuri11wrapper][div class=fyuri11imagebox][div class=fyuri11overlayparent][div class=fyuri11overlay][div class=fyuri11header]<span style="font-family: 'MedievalSharp';">CYNINGDÓM OF ALBION</span><div style="font-size:22px;"><span style="font-family: 'MedievalSharp';">Act I, The Siege of Dozmary Castle</span></div>[/div]<br>
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<span style="font-family: 'Cherry Swash';"><span style="font-size: 22px"><b>D</b></span>orzmary castle was not what you would call the beating heart of the empire, located deep in the eastern provinces, characterized by their murky marshlands and a lack of sufficient workable land; Dozmary was never destined to be a hub for trade or commerce. If it had any purpose at all, it would most likely have been to simply mark the easternmost extent of the empire. Yet it would be here, in this deep and forgotten footnote of the annals, that the imperial aristocracy made its last stand.<br>
<br>
Like most of his brethren, Cynricus had come to this new land with hopes of plunder and adventure but most of all with hopes of finding somewhere to settle and raise a family in, away from the horrors of home. It soon proved to be anything but, years of mass migration and endless infighting had created a chaotic free for all, even the few settlements that had been carved out of the remnants of the empire were in near constant war, surviving, not off of the land but by raiding and pillaging each other, their own kin. Cynricus didn't know how long this could last, but it was not his job to know, he was just a lowly man-at-arms; sworn to do do the bidding of his Jarl and his bidding quite clearly was to take the castle at Dozmary.<br>
<br>
Cynricus, in command of a couple dozen men was asked to cross the lake on its eastern side which formed a sort of natural moat for the castle. His job was to essentially test the defenses of the castle's outer walls, it was a simple scouting mission, something he'd done a million times before. This time however, it was different, by all accounts it was a swimmable distance from one side of the lake to the other in fact the lake wasn't even that deep, but about halfway through the swim a strange thing happened. The water started to get progressively darker and his body seemed to be getting heavier with each stroke, until it finally felt as if he was carrying a bundle of rocks across with him. As Cynricus turned to look for the rest of his group he saw in horror as they were violently sucked into the now pitch black water one by one, until only he was left. His descent into the dark waters was less violent and yet it wasn't free of the accompanying fear and panic that goes through one's mind as water floods into the lungs. It was in this pitiful state of his that the lady made herself know, she was like nothing he'd ever seen before; a young woman of somewhat unworldly beauty, untouched by the water around her, clothed in all white, with a narrow golden fillet holding a white veil on her head.<br>
<br>
She did not open her mouth and yet he heard an almost deafening voice coming from no definite direction, "Let go my child, the pain will subside; there is much we must do now." and with that his vision dimmed and consciousness faded from his grasps.<br>
<br>
When he finally awoke he found himself in another realm of truly unimaginable splendor, this was no longer the savage battlefield he had been in; lush green forests stretched as far as the eye could see,massive structures unlike any, man had ever or could have ever built touched the very limits of the sky and creatures big and small of a description unknown to him and he'd suspect anyone back in Aldelor dotted the land.<br>
<br>
"Where am I?" he whispered into the air, half out of bewilderment and half out of fear, not expecting any answer.<br>
<br>
"Why the fairy realm of course my King." replied the courteous lady, who had for all this while waited as the bewildered man took in the sights and sounds of this new frontier.<br>
<br>
"King?" asked the startled Cynricus in an almost pleading tone.<br>
<br>
"Yes my lord, you have been chosen, welcome to the Convergence".<br>
</span><br>
[/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuri11credit]code/design by <a href="https://www.rpnation.com/members/39545/" class="username" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" data-user-id="39545" data-username="@Fyuri">@Fyuri</a>[/div]<!--do not alter/remove credit.--><br>
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<b>22 Posts until the next Convergence.</b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Isle of Monsters</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 26px">L E V I ' A N T H</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Blackwell</span></span>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div>The leviathan were tired, hungry and scared, but above all tired. There were so few of them left now. Their father, god and guide, was dead. The greatest and oldest of the kings and keepers of the word's oceans, the black serpent Levi'anth, was dead. The blue and green serpents had killed him. The blue Epsil'tal had then turned his hate on the leviathan. So few were left. And now the green serpent Sel'vetal hunted them as they fled. It had not attacked to wipe the remaining leviathan out entirely, not yet, but if they stopped or slowed, it would strike again and again. But they had no destination, no end in sight or mind to their fleeing through open ocean, and they were slowing, wearing down, tired.<br>
<br>
A black ribbon flitted around and through the stream of leviathan. It was unlike any fish or prey any of their kind had seen, but that was to be expected. Before their home had been turn apart and burned they had never before swam through the open waters. It was only natural for prey and predator alike to be new and strange. The stream of leviathan did not change course upon this thing joining them, but individuals did snap at it in the hope of catching it between their teeth and have even a small amount of food inside their vacant stomachs. In fact, each and every leviathan that the thing came close to made some attempt to catch it, if only for a moment before it darted away and their will to give it chase fell limp.<br>
<br>
It darted through the water and settled in to swimming just in front of yet another leviathan, well within range for it to lunge forward and swallow the thing whole. Xir'ain eyed the black thing and then dove down just enough to get it out of his face, showing no initiative to go after the strange black ribbon. It paused in the water, then darted closer, as if taunting him. The leviathan swam around the annoying thing, and the thing stood still in the water until another leviathan made a snap at it and the black ribbon broke apart to slip through its teeth. The many black ribbons encircled the one that had ignored them, coalescing into the shape of a small black fish that swam just next to Xir'ain's hungry mouth. The mouth opened, "I do not know what you are. You are not a prey fish. I know that." The shape changed into a miniature leviathan that looped around Xir'ain's jaws before slipping away and again changing shape, this time into a black figure that stood just before him, somehow moving with him despite appearing to not move at all.<br>
<br>
"Why do you not chase me like the others? Do you not hunger?"<br>
<br>
"You swim too fast to catch. I watched the others try. It is a pointless game. And I sense you are inedible."<br>
<br>
The dark fairy sat down on his jaw. "Is that so? Surely if I'm right here it is worth opening your mouth to find out for yourself, no?" She ran a finger along the line of Xir'ain's deadly mouth.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain shook the fairy away. "Even if you are a prey so kind as to swim willingly between my teeth, you are too small to feed the rest. If we are to starve, I would not wish to live just longer enough to watch my brothers and sisters die before me."<br>
<br>
The dark fairy reformed on the end of Xir'ain's face and walked up it like it was stairs. "What if there was a way <i>you</i> could save <i>your</i> people?"<br>
<br>
"I would ask the price of being saved," Xir'ain said with narrowed eyes.<br>
<br>
"No price. After all, you would be the one doing the saving."<br>
<br>
"What would I have to do?" Xir'ain did not trust this strange creature, but if there was a way to save his brothers and sisters from a slow death of starvation and exhaustion overseen by the ones who had killed their god, he would do whatever was needed.<br>
<br>
The black fairy smiled, a wide smile full of shark-white teeth. "Rule them," she purred.<br>
<br>
"I am no king," Xir'ain spoke back, and at that the black fairy chuckled softly. It was not the deep rumble of a leviathan's laugh, but a much shallower sound that came from between smiling teeth. Astarot place her hand on the black skin between Xir'ain's golden eyes.<br>
<br>
"You are."<br>
<br>
<br>
Xir'ain was no longer swimming through the open ocean. Instead he was seeing whites and greens, the colors of bones and seaweed, but not belonging two either of those things. He lacked the ability to understand his own surroundings. He wished to flee this place, to thrash as a cornered animal. He did not understand this place, and so he feared it in a way he had never feared anything before. No, he had feared one other thing in this way. The fire that flooded his home and burned the water. He had not understood it, only that it was something to fear and hate. That was how he felt now, as if everything around him was fire that would burn him without him understanding how or why.<br>
<br>
But as much as he wished to flee, his body did not respond to him now. He found himself to be coiled around something, a dark finger attached to the strange final shape of that black thing, and he was unable to move.<br>
<br>
Astarot wore her king as a ring, so that he may observe and she may not have to deal with the comments of her narrow-minded peers. No doubt they had all chosen the standard types for their kings: heroes of human or dwarf or elf blood. They had no <i>imagination</i>. She absently traced a dark finger around her king's form as she blew open the doors to her own king's throne room. The room was already packed full of those witless fairies, ditsy on pollen and impotent magic. Astarot slowly panned her king around so he may look about the space, remaining silent as she ignored the stares of the crowd of forgotten fairy and moved with unhurried steps to the foot of the Fairy King's throne. She bowed, but kept her hand uncovered so that her new king may observe her old king.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b>21 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><i>Vethenia</i></span></span><br>
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/514774/" target="_blank">View attachment 514774</a>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 2.5<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 5<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div>Herphaeus Magnus remained seated within the room, slowly writing down his new insights and understanding of the secrets of the universe. While the faint noise and the smell of alcohol that seeped into the room is mildly disturbing, it's not like Herphaeus has much of a choice when it comes to his accommodation. He doesn't have much coin with him and this is the cheapest room he could afford after all. The scholar sighed once again before diving right back to his work, or he would have if he wasn't suddenly blinded by a bright light, before emerging in what seems like paradise.<br>
<br>
Herphaeus briefly looked around his new surroundings, finding himself right in front of a truly majestic building of marble, gold and precious stones, surrounded by lush vegetation from all corners of the known world. 'Is this the afterlife?' he pondered. 'Is this what was awaiting all of us after death?' He then found himself looking at a white-haired woman, an extremely beautiful one at that too. Maybe she's an angel, waiting for him so she can guide him to his next life? While the thought of death is disconcerting, considering the fact that he is no longer able to continue his pursuit of knowledge, his sheer curiosity for what awaits him has driven him to act.<br>
<br>
"Greetings, I suppose that this is the afterlife?" He waved at the angel, at least he hoped she is, and greeted her. The angel seems a little bit shocked before she shook her head. "No, young one. This is not the afterlife, and you're certainly not dead. In fact, you're in the realm of the fairies." Herphaeus was perplexed, why would he be summoned to the mythical King's Cradle? He dared not think about the possibility of becoming a king, for he lacked the charisma necessary to lead an entire kingdom. There must be another purpose, perhaps one of academic importance. That must be it, he must have been summoned here to discuss matters of scholarly pursuits.<br>
<br>
Herphaeus took a few deep breathes to calm himself down, before asking the angel-now-revealed-to-be-a-fairy. "So, for what purpose had I, a mere scholar out of the hundreds within the lands of Vethenia, been summoned to the mythical lands of the fairies? Is it to reveal the mysteries of the cosmos, or perhaps to decipher the mysteries of the arcane magics, or..." Before  Herphaeus can continue his rant, the fairy interrupted him. "I'm afraid that the purpose of summoning you here wasn't as academic as you had expected, Mister Herphaeus. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Messaline Weiß, and my purpose is to assist you during your tenure as king as your companion fairy."<br>
<br>
Silence loomed for a brief moment as Herphaeus contemplated the implications of Messaline's words. "Am I hearing it right? Me, a king? I'm sorry but I'm afraid that I lack the skills required for me to become an efficient ruler."<br>
<br>
"While you might not be as skilled in politics as the rest of the new kings summoned here, I have chosen you as my rightful liege lord due to your other qualities, such as your dedication in preserving and spreading knowledge. Now, would you be kind enough to allow me to finish the bonding ritual before we go ahead and meet up with the other chosen rulers?"<br>
<br>
"Oh, okay. Uh, just,just, just, go ahead and do, do the thing, thing" Herphaeus stuttered.<br>
<br>
"I, Messaline Weiß , vow to serve my rightful liege lord, Herphaeus Magnus , and assist him in all matters of governance during his tenure as King. I shall do my best to preserve the security, prosperity and sovereignty of the kingdom my liege lord, and to serve his heirs just as I did with himself." Messaline knelt down before the shocked Herphaeus and made her vows, before staying silent for a moment. Not knowing what to do, Herphaeus could only continue to stutter, forcing the fairy to nudge him to accept her vow of loyalty. "Do you accept my vows of loyalty, my lord?"<br>
<br>
"Uh, of, of, of course!" stuttered the man.<br>
<br>
As soon as Herphaeus finished his stuttering, the two are briefly surrounded by a glow, which faded as suddenly as it appeared. Noting that the bonding ritual is completed, Messaline stood up, before she was confronted with a question from the still stuttering Herphaeus. "Sha....shall we meet up with the other...er cho...chosen rulers, You....Your Ladyship?"<br>
<br>
The fairy shook her head. "I'm afraid that your current state has rendered you unsuitable for conducting diplomacy for the time being, my lord. I would advise that we first return to the mortal world for you to regain your composure before attempting anything else."<br>
<br>
"S...Sure! As...as you wish, You....Your ladyship!"<br>
<br>
"Well then, my lord." said the fairy before yet another bright flash of light blinded Herphaeus.<br>
<br>
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<b><i>20 posts until the next Convergence of Kings.</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>TROTOPOLIS<br>
Day 1, Month 1 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle. </b><br>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 5<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div>There were probably worse things in the world than suddenly being hit with a bright light while picking flowers and suddenly finding oneself in a different environment, but, for now, Annabelle couldn’t think of any. She was in a throne room, grander than she had ever seen—not that Annabelle had ever seen a throne room before. Even while visiting Candor Castle to see her mother, Annabelle had never set foot into the chamber where His Majesty conducted some of his royal proceedings. It wasn’t a place for a girl like her.<br>
<br>
She'd arrived in time to see a black figure bowing to one who stood on a dais with an elaborate throne. Well, stood wasn’t exactly the right word. More like floated, really. He had no legs to speak of. If she had to describe him, he looked like what she’d imagine a mermaid would look like…with wings. And a crown.  She took a step back as black eyes, which had been peering at a ring on the black figure’s hand, shifted over to her.<br>
<br>
It wasn’t the only one. She felt many curious eyes on her, which made her face flush the shade of her hair. Even more offsetting, was the obvious fact that none of the creatures appeared to be human. There was no one way to describe them. Some were large, some small, some floated, some didn’t, some humanoid, some weren’t. There was even a blue dwarf in the crowd. Annabelle had seen the occasional dwarf when she visited the capital, but she’d never seen a blue one before. Of course, the 15-year old girl wasn’t nearly worldly enough to know about all the races beyond her homeland.<br>
<br>
Had she been kidnapped by a group of goblins or something?<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“W-where am I?”</span><br>
<br>
She jumped when a voice answered near her feet.<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)"> “Why the throne room of His Majesty— Protector of King’s Cradle, Lord of the Sacred Land, King of the Fairies—Auberon, of course.”</span><br>
<br>
The tiny green-dressed figure was too small for her to have noticed right away. However, it was his words that made her eyes widen.<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “…You must be joking,”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“No joke, Lass. It’s your lucky day~! I, Luxus, have picked you to be my Queen!”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle didn’t know how to respond to that. She had heard of King’s Cradle, of course. All citizens of Candor had. However, she always believed it to be a myth. A story parents told their children to put them to bed! How could a mystical realm where kings are born be real? She had never once seen a fairy in Candor. No one has, except for old crazies who claim to have seen one traipsing the streets. Those were the same crazies who swear the world end in 10 years. Annabelle pinched herself.<br>
<br>
<b>“It’s true, My Dear. ” </b>Auberon lifted a hand to his chin thoughtfully.<b> “Hmm, so that makes six of kings this time. More than I’d expected.”</b> The Fairy King smiled. <b>“Well no matter.” </b>He addressed the three ‘kings’ in the room in a language that sounded different to each on. The fact that one of them was a ring didn’t even faze him. Astarot liked to do things her own way. <b>“Welcome to my Kingdom! My name is Auberon, King of the Fairies. You were all brought here because my former subjects deem you fit to rule over a realm of your own. Whether it is due to your bravery, loyalty, kindness, intelligence, charisma, cunning, or accomplishments, matters not. You’ve be chosen to create a kingdom for the fairy to live in and draw power from. Should you choose to accept the responsibility, a magical bond will be created between you and the fairy that chose you. It’s a fairly simple ritual, but one that has been practiced in my kingdom since Aldelor’s creation, and can be done in privacy if you’d like. Messaline is already finished with hers, in fact.”</b><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Already? Let’s not dilly-dally then!”  </span>Luxus hopped onto Annabelle’s shoulder.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“W-wait! I’m still confused…”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“It’s not complicated, Lassie. You just need to make promise with magic to build me a kingdom and I’ll make a promise to help you. The rest is just ceremonial stuff—swearing under a rainbow, over a tree, exchanging blood, etc.  Gods, I’ve seen my friends do some crazy sh*t!”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“But I’ve never built a kingdom!”</span> Annabelle was close to hysterics now. <span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“I don’t even know magic! How would I even do that?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Sweating the small stuff will only give you wrinkles.Just trust me. You’ve got what it takes,”</span> Luxus winked at Annabelle, tipping his hat to the 15-year old girl. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“And there’s no one I know that’s luckier than I.”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle looked to the Fairy King, to the others in the throne room, then back to Luxus. She didn’t know where the small fairy’s confidence came from. Her a queen? It was almost laughable. There wasn't an ounce of royal bearing in her. Though, one thing was clear. Luxus believed in Annabelle...more than she believed in herself.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“This is a once in a life time opportunity, Lass, but it’s an important decision so I’ll give you time to think about it—whether or not you want to become a queen.” </span>Luxus looked to Auberon.<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)"> “That’a okay, isn’t it Your Majesty?”</span><br>
<br>
<b>“You two can stay here for as long as you like—until you’re ready to complete the ritual.” </b>The Fairy King replied. <b>“However, once you leave, I don’t expect to see you back for another 10 years.”</b><br>
<br>
This was true for all of his fairies. While Auberon was more than willing to help them in any way he can, he had no plans of coddling them. They had their own kingdoms now.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<i><b>19 posts until the next Convergence.</b></i></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Isle of Monsters</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 26px">L E V I ' A N T H</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Blackwell</span></span>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: <br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div>Astarot remained silent and cold throughout the meeting and turned and streamed out as soon as propriety was fulfilled. Her own kind disgraced themselves and their duty. More human kings, even worse than she'd expected. The humans thought themselves the sole owners of their world, and her king's and peoples' affection for them was plain to see. If the fairy thought humans the rightful rulers and owners of the world, surely it was meant to be so? Foolish! Idiots, stupid idiots! They ignored their own biases in the name of freedom of choice, ignoring the world's needs. She thought of her own kind and grew angry, only lightened by the weight on her finger.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain was released from his inanimous state inside the round room of an ivory tower. To one side there was the door in and opposite an opening that acted as a window and source of water for one of the three small waterfall that poured down into the shallow pool that took up the center of the space. Two other waterfalls poured in from identical openings halfway between the door and far side.<br>
<br>
The black leviathan roared out and thrashed now that his body was his own again, able to move and stretch as he erupted back to his full size that took up nearly all of the space. "Explain yourself!"<br>
<br>
Astarot sat on the lip of the pool, now overflowed. "Did you not hear Auberon?" She asked with a distant tone. "I am the fairy Astarot. I have chosen you to become a king. In return, as your kingdom and your people prosper, my own power will grow as well. It is a simple contract." Her eyes shone in her dark face. "You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Accept."<br>
<br>
Altruism, to waste energy that does not benefit yourself, is not a concept the leviathan would understand and one they could not trust. But for one to benefit themselves by benefiting another, that was symbiosis, and that they understood. The smallest cleaner fish could be eaten yes, but no amount would fill the stomach, so it was good to let them swim in and back out of the mouth while they ate stuck bits of food from between the teeth. The cleaner fish got food to live, and the leviathan were no longer annoyed by the stuck bits of prey. That this back fairy would help his people if he became their king was something Xir'ain would not believe, but if she gained something from doing so, then he could understand. She needed a king for her own sake, to gain more power. Xir'ain did not trust her, he trusted in selfishness.<br>
<br>
"Very well! I will lead my people!" His roar shook the water and walls, and then he growled, "So long as they still live to follow."<br>
<br>
The black fairy smiled. Obedience was a virtue, in small doses. "Look," she pointed the finger her king had been wrapped around as a ring towards the ceiling, but there instead was a perfectly round mirror, its size and position a perfect match to the pool below, suspended from further up by heavy chains. The leviathan's thrashing had shaken it, and the mirror swayed slightly still. Fairy and leviathan stared into the eyes of their other selves, and then the other's other. When mirror Astarot moved her pointed finger, and the mirror world rippled and distorted to show something else.<br>
<br>
"What is this?"<br>
<br>
Her king's question confused her for a moment. "It is the ocean," she finally answered. "Seen from above, this is how the ocean appears." This seemed to trouble her king, but he remained quiet now. The surface of the ocean rushed past until the edge of land came into view and the motion slowed and stilled as the mirror's scene settled on a small island. It was almost perfectly round, with a ring of low peaks along its outer edge, the center fulled with dark green vegetation, and in the very center of the bowl there sat a dark circle. "This," Astarot floated up between Xir'ain and the shown island, "will be your new home."<br>
<br>
"This is not home!" Xir'ain grew angry, thinking that he'd been fooled. "My home... my people live in the depths! The abyss! The oceans! This is..."<br>
<br>
"Land," Astarot gifted him the word he needed.<br>
<br>
"Land! Land is not our home! Do you joke to me now?" Xir'ain glared at Astarot, her own gaze even and incomprehensible to the leviathan. And then he fell, down into and through the shallow pool, away from the sight of the island shown in the mirror above and towards the real thing below. He plummeted through something more slippery and formless than water, but soon returned to the familiar feeling of water as his body plunged down into the water in the island's center. Xir'ain thrashed about in the dark waters, more searching than lashing out, though he wouldn't have minded hitting what he'd lost.<br>
<br>
"I am here." Astarot bled through the dark where before there had been only water. "Welcome home, my king," she said in a soft purr.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain looked about. Above was a round circle of light, but the dark water seemed to reject the light even as it was pierced by it. The pool of water did not shrink below the surface, rather seeming to grow wider as it extended deeper. The water was lightness, but for the leviathan that had been born in deeper waters where light had never once reached, this watery darkness was a familiar comfort. Xir'ain turned from his fairy and dove deeper. There was room here. Enough room. He reached the very bottom of the cavern, where the black water rose through cracks between black rock. He circled the walls of the space. He was troubled by something.<br>
<br>
"Where is the prey? I see no prey fish here, no smaller creatures."<br>
<br>
Astarot rose like a darker cloud from between those cracks in the rock. "There is food to be found just above the surface. This island has many creatures you may consume to survive."<br>
<br>
"The surface... the land. We cannot hunt in the... land. We hunt in the ocean."<br>
<br>
"You cannot hunt in the ocean now. In the ocean you are now the hunted. If you stay in the ocean, the sea serpents hunt you. They will not stop until every single one of your people are dead. This place they cannot reach you."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain was pained by her truth. His people were of the ocean depths, but the abyss had burned, and the open ocean had brought with it the wrath of those other sea serpents. She was right. His people needed to survive, even if that meant leaving the oceans. He roared into the dark water, full of sorrow for his dead god and rage at those who had done it and now hunted down his kind as prey, but mostly regret for the choice he made for his people to live.<br>
<br>
<br>
Astarot lifted her hand from the head of her king, leaving a dark imprint that disappeared beneath his black skin. Xir'ain's yellow eyes opened, and he was back in the open ocean among his brothers and sisters. They had stopped their endless swimming through the wide-open blue waters. Some spoke to others that he'd "returned." From their perspective the strange black thing had touched Xir'ain and he'd simply vanished, and now he'd reappeared just as inexplicably.<br>
<br>
"Brothers and sisters!" Xir'ain roared for all to hear. "If we continue as we are, we will reach no safety! We will die, to hunger as soon as the one who hunts us!" The leviathan with the energy growled or whimpered at his words, though all knew it to be true. "I know where we can make a new home! Follow me! No matter what, follow me now." He nearly begged, but his pride caught before he could. But it was as good, for the others felt as hopeless as he'd said. Any who claimed something better than directionless wandering would be the one they followed.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain looked to Astarot, a black ribbon in the water about his head. She became a black fish that was split open by the too-large mouth of a shark. "Very well done," the grotesque thing complimented him. "Have them swim in a line behind you, head to tail, one by one. Lead them, and I will open the way."<br>
<br>
The leviathan did not understand the point, but they did so, and followed Xir'ain as he led them along the same direction they had been headed. But while Xir'ain had been away, the leviathan had barely moved ahead. They'd allowed their inescapable pursuer an excuse to catch up and cull their numbers again. The emerald serpent Sel'vetal moved lazily through the water as it approached, its size betraying the speed and ease at which it had caught up to the leviathan upon sensing their hesitation to keep moving. Miles of open ocean were erased with a single movement of the serpent's body. It would overtake the leviathan, and when it did many more would die, as many more had died already.<br>
<br>
"Fear no death! Fear no serpent's maw! Fear no more!" Xir'ain roared to keep his people from fear, even though he himself was filled by it. He feared that his people would die. "Follow me, and without fear, live!" Astarot looked back at the line, grinned a smile that Xir'ain had already learned to mistrust, and darted away through the waters ahead as a thin black ribbon. "No matter what you may see, follow me!" That was what Xir'ain called out just before he was swallowed up by a massive gaping maw.<br>
<br>
The entire line of leviathan was swallowed up by the black serpent. Sel'vetal cried out and turned away. What it had just seen was impossible. Levi'anth was many days dead. The black sea serpent was dead! Yet it had appeared now before its eyes. The leviathan were forgotten, or thought dead, swallowed up by their own god. The emerald serpent swam away from the specter of the black serpent, vanishing into the endless open ocean. Which was well, for the specter was gone as well, the great black illusion dissolved by the water.<br>
<br>
<br>
In the realm of fairies, a place where only they and their chosen kings may go, every living leviathan did pass. They fell in a swallowed chain down through Astarot's mirror and into the bottomless pool below on their way back to the mortal realm, finally finding themselves in the black waters hidden within the heart of an island only known as Blackwell by the few who knew its secret. But now the island was home to another secret: the leviathan live.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b>18 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 26px"><i><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">Vethenia</span></i></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 26px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/1545284917226-png.515861/" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.rpnation.com/data/attachments/452/452823-97cb393d5ce591899be29a4132f0a7a4.jpg" class="bbImage " style="" alt="1545284917226.png" title="1545284917226.png" width="81" height="100" loading="lazy"></a></span></span><br>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 3<br>
Economy: 2.5<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 5<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">When Herphaeus' eyesight returned to him, he found himself right back at the tavern room he was in before he got teleported to the realm of the fairies. Everything looked just like it was before, and Herphaeus couldn't help but wonder that if everything that just happened was merely a dream. Perhaps the desire to rule was inside him all along, just hidden away in the deepest crevices of his mind. Dismissing the train of thought with a slight chuckle, Herphaeus went back to work, or he would have if he never saw the woman from his 'dream' standing beside him.</span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">"Your orders, my lord?"</span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">Looks like it wasn't a dream.</span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span>Herphaeus stepped out of the tavern with his belongings in tow, followed by his companion fairy, whose grace attracted the attention of the nearby villagers. "So, what, what now, Your Ladyship?" Herphaeus turned and asked Messaline.</span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">"My lord, I would first advise that you find yourself people to rule over. There's no point being a king when you rule over nothing."</span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">"I, I supposed your words are, are true. But, how?"</span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">"Do you know of any people who would accept your rule without a question, my lord?"</span></span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">Herphaeus shook his head.</span></span><br>
<span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><br>
"Well, I suppose that we'll have to start from scratch, my lord." Messaline sighed before replying. "Maybe you should attempt to persuade this village to accept your rule?"</span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">"But, but, I don't think I can, can do this, Your Ladyship."</span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">"Don't worry, my lord. I shall aid you in this matter."</span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">Assured by his companion fairy, Herphaeus took a deep breath before stepping forward to the villagers.</span><br>
<br>​</div><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>17 posts until the next Convergence of Kings.</i></b><br>
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'georgia'"><span style="font-size: 22px">Fenrock</span></span>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 5<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div>Richard Aldolf had found himself walking through a majestic forest that was property of the fairy, Lizbeth who was levitating beside him.<br>
<br>
"I'm still dazed that you would choose me to be your monarch. I'm hated by many, especially by those I've conquered."<br>
<br>
"It's better to be feared than loved my lord. Those who love you will take advantage of you and your kind hearted nature. If feared, no one would dare rise against you." she then turned to face Richard and was moving backwards in front of him while conversing. "Being a leader is not about commanding ones approval my lord, but that of respect. You've accepted vilification to bring peace to the land and those you care for."<br>
<br>
"Continue."<br>
<br>
"I'm saying you should nurture them, not spoil them. Those who are loved, spoil those beneath them and when a spoiled child doesn't get what he wants, he won't need you and take what you have. However you shouldn't mistreat him either. This are the methods you've abided by and it is the result of your conquests and labors. It is why I have chosen you, as you are not swayed by emotion and you have lead people nearly your whole life. That is why I have chosen you."<br>
<br>
Richard looked down to the ground smiling and then looked back up. "So what will you do while I rule?" he asked to which Lizbeth dropped to the ground and bowed before her king.<br>
<br>
"I shall be your most trusted advisor. To assist you in maintaining your power over Fenrock. It is you that I trust to help bring peace to Aldelor."<br>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center">-------​</div><a href="/members/sylvio.61149/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="61149" data-xf-init="member-tooltip">
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 threw a <b>10 face </b>dice <b>Reason: </b>Population <b>Toyal: </b>8<br>
<div style="text-align: center">​</div><b>16 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>ARRAN'AK</b>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 9<br>
Economy: 8<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div><span style="font-size: 15px">Kul'tir</span> had long known of the snake people that were hidden below the mountains to the west. They were once nothing but folk stories and myths. A vile race of monsters that had been driven deep below the surface and locked themselves behind massive doors of stone. Kul'tir had investigated these stories and found those massive stone doors. Still he had waited long years before attempting to throw open those carved doors. In the depths he had found not monsters if chaos but another race consumed by fear. They were weak then and were weak now, but they could be made a power in their own right and a steadfast ally. Still the first step was to get them used to interaction with the outside and to establish trade woth the hidden snake folk.<br>
<br>
To that end Kul'tir had assigned a caravan crewed only by the undead to go down and start relations. The undead were immune to the gorgari's petrifying gaze that had gotten them branded monsters. This also might make them feel more welcoming for it was not thier ancient enemy that came 5o spoke but fellow monsters. The caravan would soon be on its way with goods ylto sell abd coin to spend.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>15 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>TROTOPOLIS<br>
Day 1, Month 1 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle. </b><br>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 5<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div>Luxus was still on Annabelle’s shoulder when the redhead stood before a large, shimmering lake, at the center of some forest, skipping stones. The little fairy had been chatting non-stop ever since Annabelle left the Fairy King’s castle to explore. About what? She wasn’t sure. Something about fairy’s gold? Admittedly, she’d only been half paying attention to the leprechaun that had chosen her. The other part of her brain was busy trying to organize her own thoughts. She had a lot to take in. Everything she once thought legend was turning out to be true.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“…Does that mean a fairy really exists in Candor?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Sure it does,” </span>Luxus chirped.<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)"> “As sure as Azalea exists in Arran’ak, Tirius exists in Candor.”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle’s eyes widened at the mention of the cursed land, full of walking dead. She’d head all sorts of stories from merchants that traveled to her town—a home for evil sorcerers, oathbreakers, and hellions. Ruled by a king whose very touch was death itself.<br>
<br>
Luxus smirked. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“You’re awfully sheltered, aint’cha Lass? Well, that’s okay. Everyone’s got to start somewhere~”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“I’m not sheltered!” </span>Annabelle replied defensively. <span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“And don’t call me Lass! I’m Annabelle.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Whatever you say, M’Queen~”</span><br>
<br>
Back to the crux of the matter. Annabelle sighed and threw another stone, watching it skip along the surface. <span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“Have fairies ever made mistakes before?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Sure they have! There was this one time a fairy chose a horrid king that took his people to war against a larger empire first chance he got. Poor, poor thing. Didn’t even live long enough to reap the benefits of her kingdom before she kicked the bucket!”</span> Luxus shook his head.<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)"> “Why?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“…I think you made a mistake. There’s nothing special about me.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“True that.”</span> Annabelle blinked as Luxus continued happily.<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)"> “Compared to other kings, you’re far behind. No dignity. You’re not especially intelligent. You’ve got thin arms. You don’t know an ounce of magic. And you’ve got the confidence of an ant from what I’ve seen…”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“…”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“But that’s only for now! Who knows what the future holds?”</span> Luxus grinned. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Besides, what sort of queen is expected to do everything? Just find people to cover for the qualities you lack! That’s what most kings do.” </span>His voice sweetened. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Think about it. You’ll have a fairy by your side. I know all about kings. I’ll guide you. In a year…maybe two…(or  ten) you’ll be rolling in riches! You’ll have the authority to order others around. You’ll be the ruler of your very own kingdom where you can do whatever you want—accomplish all of your dreams! Tell me that doesn’t excite you.”   </span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“…it’s your funeral if I fail.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“That’s the spirit~!” </span>Luxus hopped off Annabelle’s shoulder. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Now take my hand.”</span><br>
<br>
Obediently Annabelle crouched down and took the fairy’s tiny hands between her fingers. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Make me an oath. It doesn’t have to be complicated, but it has to be true to your heart”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle closed her eyes. She thought about it, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of anything grand.<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “I, Annabelle O’Faris, daughter of Kirk O’Farris and Isabelle O’Farris, swear to do my best to become a worthy queen…”</span><br>
<br>
Suddenly, she felt a tingle from her fingers where she touched Luxus. The fairy continued when it was clear she had nothing more to say.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)"> “And I, Luxus, former denizen of the Fairy Realm, former subject of His Majesty Auberon,  swear by my magic to assist Annabelle O’Farris in her endeavors; That my life be tied to the kingdom she shall build. My strength, its strength. My wealth, its wealth. My luck, its luck. So mote it be.”</span><br>
<br>
The air in the forest hummed with energy as Luxus finished. Then, between them, a golden four-leaf clover roughly Luxus’s size, sprouted. Startled, Annabelle stumbled backwards, slipping on a smooth stone and falling into the lake behind her with resounding splash.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“It’s a symbol of our promise.”  </span>Luxus giggled. Tugging the clover free from the ground, Luxus used the flower as an umbrella as he watched as his queen surface. Not like he had the strength to help pull her out anyway.<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)"> “My magic makes clovers grow, dont’cha know~But enough about that. Let’s get you out and dried off before we start talking about how to make you a queen.”</span><br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>14 Posts until the next convergence. </i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>TROTOPOLIS<br>
Day 1, Month 1 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle.<br>
 </b>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div>Annabelle was still wringing her hair dry as she followed Luxus. She didn’t know how long she walked or where they was going, but she had decided to trust Luxus. This was his home. He was the one who chose her. Therefore surely he knew what he was doing…right?<br>
<br>
The trees grew thicker and the path more difficult the deeper they went into the forest. More color began appearing as well. Flowers Annabelle had never seen before, strange plants that she would have never thought existed, grew in abundance. Annabelle couldn’t help but gawk at everything in wonder.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“It’s due to the high amount of magic that saturates the area,” </span>Luxus explained. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Now, c’mon. It’s just a little further.”</span><br>
<br>
She noticed more clovers and more clovers the further they walked as well.<br>
<br>
Eventually, they stopped at a cavern where the clovers seem gathered. The entrance to the cave was blocked by a locked gate. Luxus rummaged his pockets for the key, which grew as it flew out of his hand and slid itself into the lock for which it was intended. Once the gate was unlocked, the key shrunk itself and floated back to Luxus’s waiting hand. Annabelle would’ve made a comment on that bit of magic, but what she saw in the cavern made her jaw drop.<br>
<br>
Gold.<br>
<br>
Pots and pots filled to the brim with gold coins. Not just that, but jewelry and other assortment of gems stored in chests as well. It was enough to feed her family for generations to come.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Welcome to the end of the rainbow!”</span> Luxus beamed proudly. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“I’d been saving up for this day. A king without wealth is nothing you know. Er…well…queen, but you get the picture~With this, you can buy yourself your own land and hire your own workers! You can build a kingdom where people would want to live! No need to worry about expenses. With me as your fairy you will never be short.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“This…wow.” </span>Annabelle didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t even count how many cows she could buy with this amount of money. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she would ever see such a sight.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Money doesn’t make the queen, but it certainly helps,” </span>Luxus said brightly. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“You still have much to learn about what it means to rule a country. Fortunately for you, I'm willing to invest.”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle nodded, walking over to one pot and running her hands through the contents to ensure that they were real. <span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“Where do I start?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“We start by shopping for a land of your very own. Where do you want your kingdom to be? What sort of terrain do you want to live in? Where do you think we’ll make the most profit? Depending on what you choose, we can make a deal with an existing ruler, or simply buy off the land from its inhabitants. You’ll have to be persuasive in order to get people to sell the property they are living on, so leave the talking to me. Though, it'd be easiest if we can find uninhabited land for you to start constructing…”</span> Luxus hummed as he thought.<br>
<br>
Annabelle hadn’t a clue how to choose land, let alone deal with kings. It was nothing she ever thought she’d have to worry about.<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">  “…can I let my parents know about this first?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Of course! How could I forget? Your family must be informed of your new status!”</span><br>
<br>
Luxus snapped his fingers. In an instant, he, Annabelle, and all the treasures in the cavern were teleported to Annabelle’s home in Candor. Or, rather, former home.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>13 Posts until the next convergence.</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>THE SACRED GROVE</b>​</div><br>




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			<b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 2<br>
Economy:0<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 5<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0
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</blockquote>Amber Oak Sleeps. It is not abnormal, that is how he spends most of his time. Some say it is a matter, of age. A hundred year nap becomes nothing once you have lived long enough and days and weeks can be just as stressful just as quickly for a king. So as per usually it is the fairy who acts in his interest, not the king by any means, but his right hand man is nearly as good in the day to day matters.<br>
<br>
The Fairy leads a treeant and a group of dryads, in a special project that has been worked on for a long long time.  A single tree, grown into a shape, a circle around the capital. A wall, ten feet thick of living wood, and a dozen feet tall, and not just any wood, the hardest wood they have cross breed with the fastest growing. A regenerating wall, and living, with a creeping thorn vine growing over it, which is of course poisonous to skin contact to most things.<br>
<br>
The treeant rips great beams from the ground, and the dryads follow behind taking down the wood panels that were secured in place to shape the tree as it grew.  Board by board, the tear it down. Removing what looked like a wall to reveal their true protection, like them it is living wood that will secure the capital and protect them. It will also be living wood. Just like the dryads that will stand ontop of it. Living wood on living wood.<br>
<br>
The Fairy nods his head proud of the progress, his manus opus in many ways. A wall that will repair itself, a wall that will kill enemy's who touch it. A wall that one day the dryads will learn to command the vines and the wall will become as much a weapon, as it is a defense. The fairy smiles to himself and touching the wall, there was another point to making it living wood. A reason smaller, but not nothing. With his touch and a flicker of will he is on the other side of the village.<br>
<br>
Now, among other things he can move instantly from any part of the wall to any other, to rally, to lead, to fight. Once towers are grown that will be even more important. Still even now, it means something.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>12 Posts until the next Convergence of Kings. </i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>THE SACRED GROVE</b><br>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 3<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 6<br>
Technological Advancements: 5 (0.5 remaining)<br>
Citizen Happiness: 9<br>
</div><br>
<br>
The dryads are celebrating love. A festival of music and dance. From sun rise to sunset the day is spent spreading joy and happiness.<br>
<br>
Gifts are exchanged. Normally hand carved trinkets, flower arrangements,  meals or written works. What can be better than a hundred words written to ones love?<br>
<br>
This day of love is not like other holidays.  It follows no schedule,instead once a year when spirits are low or boredom fills the air. The treeants will declare the festival will take place in one week. Suddenly ensuring everyone is busy preparing and excited for what is to come.<br>
<br>
So when the day is come it is filled with gifts and dance. For many a young men though this is a test. The have this day to prove themselves and declare their feelings. For at sundown the second part of the festival starts.<br>
<br>
The walk of courtships. All the young single men of the village must wander the city. They may only be invited by the young single women who stand outside of their doors. The women invite them in for dinner and possibly more. The gifts and song and declarations are made in hopes that the one you have your eye upon will invite you.<br>
<br>
For the ladies it is a chance to be obvious for the blind young men. Many people simply enjoy the night and go on with their lives for many though the find they never truly leave and start to build a life together.<br>
<br>
The men who receive no invitation must sleep in the dirt or trees and must work to prove themselves for next year.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>11 posts until the next Convergence.</i></b></div>
				
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				Last edited: <time class="u-dt" dir="auto" datetime="2018-12-28T09:25:21-0500" data-time="1546007121" data-date-string="Dec 28, 2018" data-time-string="9:25 AM" title="Dec 28, 2018 at 9:25 AM" itemprop="dateModified">Dec 28, 2018</time>
			
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Isle of Monsters</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 26px">L E V I ' A N T H</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Blackwell</span></span><br>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
<br>
<i>Day 1, Month 1 , Year 1, 500th Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>Xir'ain had followed Astarot through that strange place and into a place perhaps just as strange, but to him it shared many similarities of the waters he'd been born into and so there was a comfort within this unnatural black water. He'd followed her all the way to the bottom of the space, and turned to watch his people follow through the hole in the world to join him here. They looked about and explored the space, but always with one eye aimed his way. The dark fairy was unseen in that dark, but her voice whispered so close it was as if she was the black water streaming up around him. "Speak, my king, their king. Take up the role you've committed yourself to. They've followed you once, and as now, forever more."<br>
<br>
He shook his head and ignored the voice. The attention of every leviathan followed Xir'ain as he swam up through their midst towards that single bright circle high above, where he stopped and turned back. "Astarot," he spoke quietly, so that only she may hear him.<br>
<br>
"I am here," she spoke as her strange shape bled out of the water.<br>
<br>
"Land," he repeated the world she'd given him, "What is it like? How do I hunt there?"<br>
<br>
"You will soon see, and you will soon learn. Why ruin the experience by having me spoil you?"<br>
<br>
Xir'ain accepted that he would get nothing useful from the fairy. She was right, he would soon learn the answers to his questions for himself. He spoke to the leviathan below, "You are safe here. Rest now. I will return with food." They watched as he turned and launched himself into that circle of light.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain crashed down onto the rocky shore of the black lake. After struggling to right himself for a minute he managed to move his long body in a way that pushed him away from the edge of the water. At that point he was still mostly upside down, and it was only after Astarot grew bored of watching her king struggle and she deigned to take on the shape of a snake to demonstrate how the leviathan should attempt to move about on land that he finally managed to right himself and move away from the edge of the water. Xir'ain looked back, but quickly turned away again. To think that such a small circle of water now housed his people, it filled Xir'ain with unpleasant feelings that he lacked the will to dwell on now. "Astarot," he spoke slowly, as if uncertain as to his next words.<br>
<br>
"I am here," fairy stood upside down floating in the air above the leviathan's head.<br>
<br>
"The thing you did to me before, explain it."<br>
<br>
The fairy morphed, bulging from the middle and collapsing so that its head and feet were now perpendicular to the ground so it may look down at Xir'ain easier. "Thing I've done? I'm certain I've done many things, you will have to clarify your asking."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain struggled to piece together his thoughts with words. "I... I was small and unable to move. In the room of colors and strange faces."<br>
<br>
"That." Now it was the fairy's turn to chose her words with more care. "I made you into something else, a ring."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain accepted that and said no more about it, though he still did not understand it. He was silent as he lay down on the ground as flat as his long body could become.<br>
<br>
"What's this?" Astarot was unable to figure out what her king was doing. He'd just stopped moving and lay down. "Sleep?" It seemed an odd time for it. Suddenly the leviathan surged forward, cutting across the ground and foliage. There was a cry, but it was cut off as soon as it sounded. Astarot zipped after her king, and found him wrapped around the struggling body of a massive deer. Suddenly she understood. He'd listened to the vibrations on the ground to quickly locate a meal. Her king had only touched land for the first time moments ago, yet he'd already worked out how to adapt his hunting methods from the depths of the sea to something that would serve him outside of the water. A seed of pride grew in her dark breast, the thrill only compounded by the fear that tinged it. Just what sort of monster had she brought out of the depths here?<br>
<br>
Xir'ain pulled his long tail out of the animal's chest. The point dripped with crimson blood, he'd pierced the heart rather than crush it. "What is this thing?" He asked his fairy. "It is made of flesh, but it has rock on its head."<br>
<br>
"It is a deer," she answered him, "one of impressive size. That is not rock on its head, but something close to bone. It grows from the creature's skull."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain absorbed this information as he had everything else and asked nothing more. He dragged the thing back to the water and to his people within. He was greeted with joyous celebration, though most of it was for him bringing food to the starved leviathan. He left again to find more. One... deer would not be enough. Astarot remained in the water and watched the leviathan feast, as well as those that refrained from joining in ripping apart this first meal. They saw her, but their eyes followed Xir'ain as he left to bring more food to his people. Astarot grinned and disappeared to rejoin her king.<br>
<br>
As Xir'ain located and killed additional beasts around the black lake, it quickly became apparent to Astarot that her king was a predator far above anything present here. The largest beast he encountered was a massive black panther. The thing hissed and roared and circled the leviathan until it felt ready to pounce. It thought itself above the black serpent that had appeared in its domain, and it would die with that idea intact. The animal died mid-pounce as Xir'ain's blade-like tail pierced through its chest and heart and brought its body down onto the forest floor.<br>
<br>
Astarot clapped as she settled on the dead cat's head. "Very nice," she purred, morphing into the thing's shape as her words transformed into the sounds it had made. "You know," her voice snapped back to normal, if the voice she used was even really her own. "I may have been a bit unpleasant to you earlier. You have my apologies." Her form dissipated and reshaped into a flowing fish-like shape, and then quickly settled back into that strange four-tailed shape she seemed to favor. Xir'ain wondered about it, it was the same shape as the many inhabitants of that colorful room. Was there some meaning to it? He wasn't able to ask as the fairy continued, "Let us begin again. I am the fairy Astarot. I would like to serve you and your future kingdom, if you would allow it."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain stared down at the tiny fairy. She'd scrunched up her body in a strange way, what he failed to recognize as a bow, but her lowered head was something he knew as a show of respect. "You do not need to ask as much. I doubt I could prevent you from doing what you wished. You've already done so much by saving my brothers and sisters from certain death, and even should this new home fail and we perish here, your help will not go unappreciated, if by no one else by me alone. I will do everything in my power to make my people and my kingdom strong, to repay you." The fairy stood looking into her king's golden eyes. "What is it?" Xir'ain finally asked.<br>
<br>
"Your name," she said. "You've yet to tell me it."<br>
<br>
"It is Xir'ain. The dark water in motion, the black current. It is what I am called."<br>
<br>
"You will be a good king, Xir'ain," the fairy's voice said as her body disappeared completely.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain waited for her to return. He'd barely met her, yet he'd grown to expect her presence. Suddenly this place without water, that moved quickly and without current yet somehow heavy and immobile, where seaweed grew in strange forms and his body stuck to the earth, this place felt so strange and foreign to him in a way it had not with Astarot and all her seemingly infinite wisdom and power at his side. He dragged the massive black cat through the forest back towards the lake to feed his people. It was the largest of the prey he'd killed, and he struggled long and hard bringing it back. Eventually it and he dropped into the dark water.<br>
<br>
He was met there by his brothers and sisters as their attention moved from Astarot's wide grin to himself. A large female leviathan moved closer and roared. "The king of us! Xir'ain! King of leviathan!" The other leviathan joined in, and the panther's body had to be retrieved later once the leviathan slowed their cheers for their new king, for he had forgotten it and let it go in his surprise.<br>
<br>
Astarot disappeared once more into the black water, the last part of her to fade out of view being her cheshire grin. Convince the leviathan to accept Xir'ain as their king had been unimaginably easy. It was to be expected really. The leviathan knew nothing of the fairy that chose kings, but they had been close to giving up, and in following Xir'ain had witnessed the form of their god appear to swallow them up and bring them to this new place where they were supposedly safe. That much, and him hunting alone and bringing his people food when he himself was just as starved as any of them, the word of a fairy was hardly anything compared to that. They already thought of him as their leader, possibly chosen by their god to take his place, so something greater than a simple king. Astarot was content with her work, so she left her king to accept his coronation by his people.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b>10 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 26px"><i><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">Vethenia</span></i></span><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><br>
Day 15, Month 3 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle.<br>
</span><br>
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/1546004972944-png.518982/" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.rpnation.com/data/attachments/455/455944-ea36dc73df5b73a2b33b657551b51cbc.jpg" class="bbImage " style="" alt="1546004972944.png" title="1546004972944.png" width="100" height="83" loading="lazy"></a><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 3<br>
Economy: 2.5<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 5<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div></div>Herphaeus sat in silence within a decently sized room, with Messaline standing right beside him. In front of him was a table with a map of the region laid on it. For the past few weeks, the two had went from village to village, trying to persuade the people to join their nascent kingdom. However, as of now, only a dozen villages had agreed to join, the rest fearing the wrath of the city states too much to risk it, despite it being the only chance that they could escape their tyranny. The newly crowned king had a frown on his face as he stared at the red flags pinned onto the map, each symbolizing a potential enemy, and there's way too much of them for the man to be comfortable with the current situation. Something needs to be done.<br>
<br>
"My lord, it seems that you are in a state of distress." said Messaline in an attempt to break the silence.<br>
<br>
"Yes, Your Ladyship. There's too many potential enemies for me to not be distressed. The city states could crush us like an elephant crushes an ant, I can't possibly think of a scenario where we would survive their armies!" Herpaheus pointed at each individual red flag with a look of despair on his face.<br>
<br>
"My lord, I would suggest raising an army to defend the realm, as well as the construction of new fortifications to protect pour borders."<br>
<br>
"But our people are just villagers, they can't...." Herphaeus was interrupted by his companion fairy before he could finish his sentence.<br>
<br>
"Are villagers not human like those living in the city states?"<br>
<br>
Herphaeus stayed silent for a brief moment, realizing his folly, before responding weakly. "I...I suppose you're right, Your Ladyship. Forgive my mistake, I'm just......stressed out, by all this 'kings and armies' stuff."<br>
<br>
"It's fine, my lord. There's a first time to everything. I'm sure that you will improve over time."<br>
<br>
"To be honest, I know nothing about raising an army and building fortifications. I'm a natural scientist, not one of those military engineers in the cities."<br>
<br>
"If you don't mind it, I can aid you in these matters, my lord."<br>
<br>
"Yes, thank you, Your Ladyship!" said the man as his frown turned upside down.<br>
<div style="text-align: center">​</div><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><b><i><br>
9 posts until the next convergence.</i></b><br>
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>ARRAN'AK<br>
Day 15, Month 3 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle. </b>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 9<br>
Economy: 8<br>
Military Might: 14<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div><br>
Things  were happening, it seemed  new kings and queens were on the move  and it seemed that after so long the scattered city states would once more be brought back into the nations they had once been. Even the old forest king was apparently starting to awaken, it seemed a new age of kings was close at hand.  This meant that the games of state craft would once more need to be played and often the best way to secure the future was to make sure you had strong ties. Without being able to marry into families or marry off children  the best way for Kul'tir to gain such favor  was to make sure his presence was felt from the very start. There was news of a nation slowly forming to the the north, long had that been a collection of ever bickering states conquering and liberating one another almost constantly.  Still if unified and given a decent  cause to remain together they could become a reasonable threat. there was also the old forest king, the only being that was not a fairy that was older than Kul'tir himself and always their relationship had been icy given the  forest lord's rather narrow view on what was and what was not natural. Still  the forests to the south were and had mostly always been quiet and Kul'tir had no reason to think that now would be a sudden expansion of the forests thus little need to reinforce that boarder.  The gestating nation to the north was without a doubt the greater wild card as often his people could be made a good target given people's misunderstanding of life and death and how one might circumvent eternal sleep.  Still there was some good news  as The dawn queen had been located early, she was not yet of age but she had shown every sign of finally having been reborn.  Kul'tir had waited so long  for her to finally return like she always did and despite his joy he knew this would again be temporary.  Anyen being so tied to the powers of life and  nature  she could not be brought back as lich or specter always she must be born live and die then return, and to Kul'tir the decades spent with his love were always so brief compared to those times without.   Still this was a time for celebration the dawn queen was returned or at least soon to be returned, springs would be warmer harvest greater and once more the one that could calm even the greatest of the eternal kings rages would return.<br>
<br>
To deal with the nation  Kul'tir wrote a letter, an invitation for a meeting and an offer of aid.  The armies of Arran'ak were available for a very reasonable price, less than it would cost to hire and outfit mercenaries. This  offer was not to actually make money but rather to  make sure everyone in this nascent nation knew the role that the kingdom to the south had played in their founding creating a debt of sorts. In the game of states gold was rarely the best currency favors paid to those in power and to future rulers were often worth far more than cold hard coin.  Thus  runners woudl be deployed  through out Arran'ak  and to the slowly growing kingdom to spread word of the dawn queen and to offer aid. Meanwhile Kul'tir himself would raise a group of undead just to make sure he would have enough to loan out.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>8 posts until the next Convergence</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>ARRAN'AK</b><br>
<br>
<b>Day 15 -25, Month 3 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle. </b><br>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 9<br>
Economy: 8<br>
Military Might: 14<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 3<br>
</div><br>
The runners would make good time spreading the news of the Resurrection of the dawn queen.  Every village would start to organize small  events and feasts. This was just the start  of course but still this was not the major festivities. These would be small local events  to praise that the dawn queen had returned and that the lands would blossom with life and the harvests would be more bountiful . Still the real celebrations were to wait for years  till the dawn queen was ready and fully awakened.  thus in 15 days news would spread and festivities could start.<br>
<br>
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<b>7 posts until the next convergence.</b></div>
				
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	<div class="message-userContent lbContainer js-lbContainer " data-lb-id="post-9383225" data-lb-caption-desc="OverconfidentMagi · Dec 29, 2018 at 11:49 PM">

		

		
	


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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Isle of Monsters</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 26px">L E V I ' A N T H</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Blackwell</span></span><br>​</div>
    			<div class="tabsBb" id="tabContainer_1736444794">
	    			<ul class="tabsBbTitles mainTabsBb"><li class="bbTab active"><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444794" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444794" href="javascript:">Burning Rage</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444795" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444794" href="javascript:">King of Beasts</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444796" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444794" href="javascript:">Shape of the Soul</a></li></ul>
	    			<ul class="tabsBbContent"><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444794" style="display: list-item;"><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 1<br>
<br>
<i>Day 3, Month 1, Year 1, 500th Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>"Astarot!"<br>
<br>
Many leviathan turned towards their king when he roared for the strange dark thing that followed him about, and they continued to listen in once she'd appeared and said, "I am here." The thought that had woken Xir'ain from rest must be something of great importance.<br>
<br>
"You can come and go from this place," he accused.<br>
<br>
"Yes," the fairy answered, uncertain as to the purpose of this.<br>
<br>
"You can go to our home in the abyss, to see if there are any of us that was left there and survived the ruin and flames! Please!"<br>
<br>
Astarot now understood what her king was asking of her, but she was still uncertain as to the point of it. So what if there were leviathan that somehow still lived in the ruined abyss? They would not survive there now, and if they left the sea serpents would kill them. In many ways, whether they lived now was irrelevant. They were dead, now or soon to be. "I will go," she said, "but I promise nothing." She dissolved into the black water.<br>
<br>
"That is fine."<br>
<br>
<br>
Astarot lay in the shallow pool of her private space, resized so that her hands and feet touched the stone edge. She stared up at the circular mirror hanging just above, though it now showed mostly just black water. Not the unnatural black water of the leviathan's new home, this was the natural waters of their old home, black simply from no light reaching so many miles under the ocean surface.<br>
<br>
Suddenly she saw light, deep and red and slowly in motion. It was like the veins of some massive thing strewn about the ocean floor. There were deep fissures everywhere where the earth below the water had broken apart and magma had pushed its way through. The water around the glowing lines boiled. The worst of it was within what had been the largest of the fissures, the abyss, the leviathans' home. It had become a massive red scar stretching on and on across the deepest part of the world. Seeing such an open wound on the world, even Astarot was struck by an immense pain. She reached out a dark hand as if to caress the glowing scar, though her fingers only brushed the surface of the mirror.<br>
<br>
And the tragedy was not settled. The earth continued to break apart and magma continued to surge through new cracks. Surely there could be no life in this hellish place. But she made the mirror show her closer and searched. For many hours she slowly moved the mirror's sight and watched for any sign of movement that was not the earth or molten rock or boiling water. There, pinned between rock and wall of the fissure, she saw a thing shaped like her king. It looked to be dead. It had surely been boiled by the water around it, and the thing had none of its black skin left. What a terrible death, was all the fairy gave in way of mourning for the leviathan. She moved the mirror away, but then back. The thing had opened an eye and was thrashing against the earth that held it.<br>
<br>
"Struggle," Astarot whispered. "Fight. Rage. To give up is to die. So fight!" She reached out for the creature in the mirror.<br>
<br>
The leviathan had grown numb to pain many many hours ago, so it did not feel when Astarot tore away its flesh that had melted to the superheated rock. It simply felt itself move forward. It had won. The leviathan began to sink further down into the burning abyss as it lost consciousness.<br>
<br>
"What a hopeless creature," Astarot said fondly as she pulled it from that hell to where she was and then further on to where the rest of the leviathan were.<br>
<br>
Compared to the water it had left, the temperate water of Blackwell may as well have been chilled by ice. The leviathan was instantly shocked back to life, roaring out in pain as the cold stabbed into the exposed flesh and nerves of its bloody skinless body. Every leviathan was woken and rushed to see their thrashing brother, though many turned away upon seeing the state it was in. Xir'ain rushed forward, but his words were cut off by Astarot yelling, "Hold him!" Xir'ain immediately coiled around the wildly thrashing leviathan, but it was much larger than him and he was only able to pin its crest to its body and keep its head slightly controlled. But the other leviathan rushed to join him, and soon the bloody leviathan was completely immobile in the center of a mass of coiled leviathan.<br>
<br>
"Your rage has saved you," Astarot whispered to it. "Now it is time to rest." She touched her palm to its head. Healing magic would not save this creature, especially not in the cursed black waters that hated everything to do with magic. But that was why she had chosen this place for her kingdom. Her magic could not heal him, but she could force him to change to heal himself. The hateful black water did not know how to stop the magic she worked where it could not touch. She closed her eyes.<br>
<br>
Astarot looked around herself. The core of this creature was not like Xir'ain. She was surrounded by fire and blood rather than peaceful black water. This one might be too far gone. The core of its being was a bloody ball of pain and anger. It shook with a deep threatening beat like some sort of disfigured heart as she drew close. She touched it, so gentle, her cool touch unlike the flames that burned it even now. "You poor thing. I'm sorry that you did not die sooner." She drew the blood floating about this place around the core. That would be some slight relief. Then she reached her hand back to the core and dragged her finger as if writing on it. The blood swirled about her. She formed it into thread and stabbed her hand into the beating core over and over, as if sewing the blood back into it. She did this many many times, and then wrote more things to tie off the bloody work. Astarot drew her hand back.<br>
<br>
She was in the black water of Blackwell again, her hand no longer touching the leviathan. The other leviathan might have only witnessed her touch the bare flesh of the creature, but she had reached much further inside than that. She had altered the poor creature, written changes onto the very core of it. She'd deadened its bare nerves, reformed melted bone and stripped flesh, and even grown new skin, though it was only a thin layer now and the raw red flesh beneath was visible through. The leviathan was limp, having lost consciousness again even as she had meddled with it. Only time would tell if it would wake or not, live or die. She had changed much to force it to live, but it was very damaged. Even that much may not be enough.<br>
<br>
"Fight," she whispered to it. "Rest, sleep, but fight that which is endless, and when you are ready, wake up." She shared a glance with her king and vanished back to her search for any other freak survivors.<br>
<br>
The leviathan unwrapped themselves from around the red one, and Xir'ain and two others carried it to where it could lay undisturbed to one side of the cavern of black water. When Astarot returned many hours later, she simply shook her head and Xir'ain asked no further. There had been no others, and he did not wish to know the state of his peoples' birthplace.<br>
<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444795" style="display: none;"><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 1<br>
<br>
<i>Day 15, Month 1, Year 1, 500th Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>The fairy Astarot had shown her king how to move to hunt on land, and he brought that teaching to the rest of his people. The leviathan had quickly consumed the creatures that lived close to the black pool that was their home, for which they had together chosen the name Levi'anth. In the tongue of their dead god the word meant home and life, a place where life came from. It had been the name the leviathan had for their god that created them, and now for the place his spirit had brought them to. Astarot had never told them that she had taken the shape of their dead god to send the leviathan here, and she had forbidden her king from speaking of it. That lie was an important piece of his being chosen by his god to lead his people, one that she would hold him to not breaking. He found the very concept of this kind of deception uncomfortable to think about, but his debt to the fairy was massive, so he would accept it.<br>
<br>
"Astarot," Xir'ain spoke her name aloud. He had encircled a massive tree with his body and watched his people hunting through the forest below him. The ability to climb had been a wondrous discovery to him, for he had felt himself to be trapped pressed against the earth when above water. Simply moving off of it to climb a tree - though ones hardy enough to support a leviathan were not many - had brought him a small amount of joy.<br>
<br>
The fairy rose out of the distant black pool without raising a ripple. She'd no doubt been instructing other leviathan on one topic or another that they had been ignorant of. The fairy seemed to enjoy introducing strange concepts and ideas into the leviathan who knew woefully little about anything that applied to any aspect of the world beyond their now-lost abyssal birth-home. She flew through the air in a strange spiraling arrow shape that came to rest before her king. "I am here," she answered his call.<br>
<br>
He cocked his head to the side. "That shape, what is it?"<br>
<br>
"It is called a bird," she answered, and then the shape grew and took on more distinct details. "This one you should have seen flying above your head. It is a type of bird called a fish eagle. There are many in the cliffs here."<br>
<br>
"Is it a bird or a fish?"<br>
<br>
"Not a fish, it is a bird. All of the small feathered creatures that fly through the sky are called birds, but they each have their own names as well, just as there are different names for the fish in the water. This bird is a fish eagle."<br>
<br>
"I see," Xir'ain said once he had absorbed this. The creatures of the land and sky were proving to be just as varied as the creatures that inhabited the oceans. "Can you show me more shapes of birds? As many as you know." His yellow eyes watched the black fairy expectantly.<br>
<br>
Astarot did not know what her king was thinking. His mind worked in strange ways very unlike her own. "I know of many kinds of birds. Very well." For the next hour Astarot continuously shifted from one shape to the next, from songbird to raptor and fowl to great land bird, only pausing on each to tell her king what each was most often called. And Xir'ain simply observed her, never once taking his eyes off of her or interrupting. When she finally settled back into her own form - which he'd asked her about days earlier and she'd told him was most similar in shape to a creature she called a human, though she'd said it with a tone that made Xir'ain withhold further questions - Astarot seemed to him tired. In truth, though she enjoyed using magic to reshape herself more than any other fairy she knew, cycling through thousands of forms so rapidly was quite and exhausting thing, both physically and mentally. Her body seemed more wisp-like and transparent than normal. "That is all I know. Is that enough?"<br>
<br>
"I cannot ask for more than you know," he said as he slipped down from the tree.<br>
<br>
Astarot watched her inscrutable king until he looked back for her. She flitted down and settled upon his flat crest so she could rest and recover herself. "Did you call me just to show you birds?"<br>
<br>
"I did not."<br>
<br>
"Yet you sat still for an hour to see them?"<br>
<br>
"It was useful."<br>
<br>
"Whatever you say," she said dismissively. "What did you call me for then?"<br>
<br>
"Some of the others say there is something that follows them when they hunt in the forest. Is that you?"<br>
<br>
"I do not think so. They would know me, most likely, if not by the shape I am in then when I change it. That is assuming I wish to be noticed. If I did not, no one of you would have any chance of knowing I was around."<br>
<br>
"I didn't think so. Then I will look into it. I ask for your assistance." Xir'ain moved further into the forest with his fairy laying atop his head, and though he gave no warning when he was forced to move to slip around or under obstacles, no movement dislodged her from her place of comfort.<br>
<br>
<br>
They'd moved aimlessly through the forest for a long while. Xir'ain had seen quite a few creatures that would be good prey, but he was not hunting, and so they escaped to live another day. Then he felt the fairy atop his head move. In truth he'd grown accustomed to her touch - not her weight, for she had very little of it to speak of - and had stopped feeling her there entirely until she had moved.<br>
<br>
"Move your head to the left slowly. More. Stop. Right there. It's in the bushes, watching you. It's going to run."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain surged across the moist ground, and the thing fled. But now this was a hunt, and Xir'ain easily overtook his prey. His tail lashed out to pierce the thing, but something pulled his tail so that instead of stabbing through the creature it simply stabbed into the ground in front of it.<br>
<br>
"Did you forget what you are here for?" Astarot softly chided her king. "Killing it won't do you any good. This one could not have been following many different leviathan as they hunted. There must be others."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain stilled his predatory instinct to kill the creature and be done with it. She had moved his tail. No, she hadn't just pushed it away, she had actually controlled it, controlled him. He was uncertain how he felt about that, so he ignored it for now. Now he stared down at the small creature he had chased. It was barely any bigger than the hook of his tail, not enough to even call prey. Too little food for the effort of catching. Its head and body was like that of a frog, one of the creatures Xir'ain had learned of from Astarot after seeing many on the island. But this creature was much larger than those tiny colorful things, and its large round eyes looked about with the fear and intent of a smarter thing. It stood on two short bent legs, and its webbed fingers clutched at a short stick with a pointed rock stuck to the end. A weapon then. That made sense considering the thing appeared to have no natural weapons or defenses of its own. How unfortunate for it.<br>
<br>
The creature looked about, not daring to look up at Xir'ain. Finally it threw down its spear and lay down on the ground. "Great king of beasts! Beg you kill fast! No pain!" The creature was shaking with fear, its eyes shut tight.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain was surprised to hear the creature speak, but it was not in any tongue he knew. Astarot seemed amused by the little talking thing, and he accepted her offer to translate for him. He did not find it surprising that she knew the language of this thing. He thought it likely that she knew most things. "What is this king of beasts?" He spoke slowly so as not to frighten the thing any further.<br>
<br>
"You king of beasts! Old king of beasts ruled long time, but now dead. You kill him. New king of beasts is you! King of beasts kill always. You kill fast. Please you kill fast! No pain!"<br>
<br>
"What was this old king of beasts? I have hunted many prey. What shape did it take?"<br>
<br>
"You kill?" The thing seemed confused that it was not dead. The king of beasts was supposed to kill anything that it could catch, and this new king had caught him.<br>
<br>
"You are not good prey. Answer me, and I will not kill you. What shape was your old king of beasts?"<br>
<br>
The creature's eyes grew wide when Astarot told it that Xir'ain did not plan on killing it. "Old king of beasts very big. New king of beasts very long. Old king of beasts very big. No tall, very big. Sharp teeth, sharp claw, black hair, long tail. New king of beasts longer tail though. Long long tail." While the thing spoke, Astarot thought of what Xir'ain had killed on the hunts she'd been with him. She found the efficiency with which he hunted and killed rather boring, so she tended to not pay attention or simply not join him when he hunted. She took a guess and changed into the shape of the large black cat he'd killed. "Yes! That is old king of beasts! That is! You killed!"<br>
<br>
Xir'ain looked at the shape Astarot had taken. He remembered it. He thought that compared to the other prey on the island, it could have been the top predator before he'd killed it. "Yes, I killed that creature. If doing so make me... the king of beasts? then so be it. Tell me, what meaning is there to this title?"<br>
<br>
This seemed to confuse the creature. "You king of beasts now. You kill. Not kill me! You said! Kill other things though. Everything!"<br>
<br>
Astarot sighed once she'd translated this new gibberish. "Surely this creature has no value. Maybe you should just kill it, send a message to its friends to stop following the hunters."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain thought a while. "Creature, what are you called?"<br>
<br>
"Yemp!"<br>
<br>
"Imp. Is that the name of you or your kind?"<br>
<br>
The creature seemed confused again. "I am," it tilted its large head, " ... imp."<br>
<br>
"Very well. Imp, how many of your kind are there on this island?"<br>
<br>
"Many. Many imp."<br>
<br>
"Why have I never seen any before you? My people have seen a few of you, but surely if there were many of you I would have seen you before now."<br>
<br>
"Hide. We hide. Hide underground. You no see. We dig many tunnels. No find us there."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain rose up taller, looming over the smaller creature. "Imp, will you return here tomorrow?"<br>
<br>
<br>
Astarot had noticed the sudden change in her king then, his tone shifting between words from simple curiosity to a pointed intent, but she only understood the reason why when she finally asked about it later that night. The leviathans' new home was shelter yes, but it was not comfortable. The dark water was too still, and the leviathan were forced to the bottom to rest else they sink. The water of the abyss had been heavy with pressure and salt, so they had been able to sleep where they pleased, even being pulled along in the wake of their god. The walls of Levi'anth were too smooth to rest against, and that was where Xir'ain's mind had gone upon hearing that the imp were good at digging. Now Astarot understood his intent. He wished for architects, though he would not understand that. The leviathan were large and strong and the apex predator of this island, but they were unable to easily sculpt their surroundings to better suit themselves.<br>
<br>
Over the next month, Xir'ain met with that one imp each day. He would bring it food - newly killed prey much too large for the imp to possibly consume or even carry away on its own - and he would allow the imp to speak of various things. Much of what it spoke of was repeated and barely understandable, but every new thing it did mention Xir'ain absorbed. Between his lessons with Astarot and meetings with this lowly imp, Xir'ain was continuously gaining more knowledge of this new world above the oceans. He had Astarot watch after he'd left to see what the imp would do with the food it had been given. At first the imp did nothing with it, but after a day this free food was too much temptation, and multiple imps appeared to break apart and carry away the meat. Astarot followed them down into the ground and to their network of damp tunnels and burrows. They seemed to understand tools and clothing, but only at a basic level. They huddles together in mud and grime and tore into the near-spoiled meat wildly as soon as it appeared before them. Well, that much Astarot found similar to the leviathan when Xir'ain had first brought them food when they'd been starved. She returned to her king with positive words for his intentions towards the imps.<br>
<br>
Once the single imp had returned from meeting with the king of beasts many times, other imps soon began to appear during the meeting times. Though dealing with their basic brains and broken way of communicating did annoy Xir'ain, he never attacked the imp. After a month of doing this, he finally asked the imp to join him in Levi'anth. He would give them food and the protection of his people, and they would dig and build for the leviathan. This did scare the imps, and their answer was of course no. Prey did not live with the predator. The imp at the very least seemed to understand that Xir'ain and the leviathan were predators capable of wiping them out entirely. So they were not completely stupid. As the leviathan overhunted the forests where the imp lived and they came to rely on the food Xir'ain brought them, his generous words eventually brought the imps around. At first only a few came to Levi'anth to work, but over time many of the imps chose to work and live within the Blackwell. When a flood and landslide ruined their original homes, every last imp came to call Levi'anth home.<br>
<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444796" style="display: none;"><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 1<br>
<br>
<i>Day 5, Month 3, Year 1, 500th Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>Xir'ain was coiled at the top of the tall tree from which he could watch the surface of the Blackwell as well as much of the nearby forest. It had become his favorite place outside of the water, and where he could often be found. Now, as he often was, he was watching Astarot as she altered her shape and explained to him the various functions of individual details of each form. She knew much about anatomy, enough to give Xir'ain vague answers to even things she didn't know entirely. Even still he would frequently stump her as his curiosity dove down deep into each new thing he learned. "How does the dragon breathe fire?" "It does not breathe in fire, it exhales it." "Would not the air entering its nose and mouth then be superheated too hot to breathe?" "I suppose so, yes." "So it must also breathe in fire." "I suppose so, yes." He would go silent while transforming the information and then come to conclusions Astarot found herself unable to replicate. "Would a leviathan-dragon be able to breathe boiling water?" She had no answer to that, though she was reminded of that poor red leviathan. He had done just that.<br>
<br>
That leviathan had lived, but only in body. Its mind was maddened. It lashed out at its own kind and slaughtered any imp that dared come close. Xir'ain had struggled with what to do about his poor suffering brother, and had eventually been forced to confine it to a large cave excavated by the imps as close to the bottom of the Blackwell as they dared dig. The imp refused to dig any further below the floor of the original cavern. Xir'ain had still not learned exactly why, beyond something about them not liking being down deep. Astarot dismissed the topic when he asked her about it, saying it wasn't something he needed. He was forced to accept that. So the mad red leviathan was isolated in its cave, and then the mouth of the cave was collapsed. The imp dug small tunnels through the stone into and away from the cave so that water could move through, and a slightly larger one to send food inside, but none were large enough for the huge leviathan to escape. He had been locked away, until either his madness broke or Xir'ain was able to do something more for him.<br>
<br>
"Astarot," Xir'ain spoke to stop the fairy's lesson.<br>
<br>
"What is it?" She closed up her skin where she had been showing Xi'rain what muscles were used and how they moved when a chameleon shot out its tongue to hit a flying insect. He very rarely interrupted her, especially when he was learning about something he didn't know. His yellow eyes were fixed onto her, so it did not seem that he was distracted by some pressing issue.<br>
<br>
"Your shape changes always," he said. "You changed me once. Can my shape be changed as you change?"<br>
<br>
Astarot was silent, her shape falling back into her natural one. Finally, "Fairy change themselves easily," she said. "Yet few of them think much of it. Other creatures with magic will often alter themselves, either by instinct or by will. Few of them think much of it. Magic can change the shape of thing, the very nature of things, but very few see how that change happens." She curled her legs into her arms and stared at her king. "I should not have forced you into the shape of a ring then. I am sorry for that."<br>
<br>
"I do not care about my anger from then," Xir'ain dismissed her apology. "I wish to know if my shape can be changed into other shapes. Can it be done?"<br>
<br>
Astarot was relieved that her king either did not recognize the line she had crossed by turning him into an object against his will, else he truly did not consider it something to be punished. What he was asking of her now filled her with an excitement comparable to when she'd first chosen him to be her king. He was actually asking her to change him. What a wonderful choice she had made for her king. "Yes," she said with a grin as wide as a shark's.<br>
<br>
"Can you show me?"<br>
<br>
At this she stopped. Could she? She couldn't even say she understood exactly how her magic changed creatures. She could of course change herself with ease, it barely took a single thought, but when she changed other creatures she wasn't sure how much was her actual doing versus her magic simply following her intent. The cores of creatures that she saw in her mind, was it even real? This would be a risky first experiment to find that out. She'd risked more for far less in her exploration of her magic before. "I will try."<br>
<br>
She touched her hand to her king's head. "Close your eyes," she told him. "Can you see?"<br>
<br>
Xir'ain closed his eyes, and suddenly found himself looking at a black hand that was not his own. His eyes opened again, and he was back looking at the lake and forest. "What was that?"<br>
<br>
"You were seeing what I see. Now close your eyes, and do not open them again until I tell you to do so."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain closed his eyes tight. He could see Astarot's hand, though it seemed as if it was his own like this. She slowly closed her eyes so that he could see nothing, but then he saw darkness. This was different. Nothing was empty, but darkness was a thing with form that moved and shifted in complex ways as if alive. It was something familiar to Xir'ain, but this darkness felt even more familiar than that, like he knew it personally, and it knew him. He pushed forward through this darkness despite wishing nothing more than to simply float within it. For a moment he'd forgotten that he was merely seeing what Astarot was.<br>
<br>
Astarot found the place where the shifting darkness grew still and points of golden light not unlike stars seemed to poke through it, though in truth the light came from where the darkness gathered in some nonsensical way. In the center of this stillness was Xir'ain's core. It was darker than black, a color that did not and could not exist in the world, so dark that the previously absolute darkness around it seemed luminous by comparison. The thing was smooth, a perfect orb yet any surface of it perfectly flat. It was a bundle of paradox and conflict without conflict, and the most beautiful thing Astarot had ever seen. What the shape of a creature's core represented of them even she did not fully know, but upon seeing what lay within the leviathan she had chosen as her king, she'd known that her choice was right.<br>
<br>
But now it was slightly different from whens he'd first seen it. There on the core there was an imprint of herself in the shape of her hand when she had chosen Xir'ain and  formed a contract with him, overstepping the bond of a simple king-fairy contract to carve her mark into her king's soul. If the other fairy knew what she'd done, they'd probably be horrified or accuse her of doing something terrible. But what they didn't know wouldn't trouble Astarot now. The handprint seemed to be gilded by golden light, as was where she had carved the shape of the ring she had changed her king into then, as if she'd scratched into the color beyond black and found golden light within.<br>
<br>
"What is this?" Xir'ain asked aloud, though he had the answer inside of his mind.<br>
<br>
"It is you," the fairy said. She raised her hand without touching the core itself. "This is your bond to me. And this is the shape of the ring I turned you into."<br>
<br>
"Are you marked by our bond as well?"<br>
<br>
"Perhaps," she answered him. "Now tell me the shape you wish to take."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain thought on that. "The king of beasts. You said it was called a panther. Can you give me a shape like that?"<br>
<br>
"I can," she answered. She raised a pointed finger to the surface of the core and began to write. Xir'ain understood none of the shapes she made, or even if it was a language at all and not simply an idea being carved into his soul. He imagined that he could feel her changing him with each slight movement of her finger, but in truth there was nothing. When he asked her about that much later she told him that there would be no pain. She was not reshaping his body, she was altering what his body was. Why would there be pain when it was simply becoming the shape it was supposed to be? Finally her finger lifted and did not return again. "It is done." She opened her eyes and lifted her hand from Xir'ain's head.<br>
<br>
His eyes opened slowly after a pause. His body was still in the tree, but now he was draped over one o the branches he'd been lying on rather than simply coiling around multiple. His body seemed to have shrunk? He felt something strange when he moved his body. Parts of him were hanging off of the branch. It felt like he had four new tails, but where he could still move his tail more or less how he was used to, these new tails refused to work right. They didn't move smooth. For the most part they didn't seem to move at all. It was like he had a tree inside that kept the tail from bending how it was supposed to. Astarot stood further up the branch and simply watched, offering no advice. He struggled to move the useless tails, and his struggle dislodged him from the branch to send him falling the far distance to the ground. On the way down he somehow twisted himself to put the useless tails between himself and the earth, but that only made them hit the ground first, and with them being so rigid they simply broke instead of stopping him.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain roared out in pain and anger at the useless things he had asked Astarot to put on him, but as soon as he could they and the pain was gone. Astarot was in front of his face with her hand on him. She'd changed him back to his own legless shape. He growled out the last of his anger. "Tomorrow," he said once he was calm, "make me that form again. This time on the ground. I will learn it."<br>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center"><a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/1546127306966-png.519728/" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.rpnation.com/data/attachments/456/456690-fcef2db5ec7e9c4c990bca7014c90e3c.jpg" class="bbImage " style="" alt="1546127306966.png" title="1546127306966.png" width="100" height="40" loading="lazy"></a>​</div><br></li></ul>
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<b>6 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px">Vethenia</span><br>
Day 3, Month 5 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle.</span><br>
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/1546222330691-png.520217/" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.rpnation.com/data/attachments/457/457179-0f371fd76f55fa59abccc13f858930fe.jpg" class="bbImage " style="" alt="1546222330691.png" title="1546222330691.png" width="100" height="55" loading="lazy"></a><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 3<br>
Economy: 2.5<br>
Military Might: 1<br>
Technological Advancements: 5<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div></div>A man burst into Herphaeus' room, his face dripping with sweat. "Sir Herphaeus, we have someone from the city states, they want to trade!"<br>
<br>
"What?" Herphaeus stood up from his chair with a shocked expression on his face.<br>
<br>
"It's true, sir. He's standing right in the center of the village waiting for you!" The man pointed behind him at the door.<br>
<br>
"My lord. I would suggest seeing what he has to offer." Messaline chimed in.<br>
<br>
"Yes, of course, Your Ladyship."<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
"So, you're Herphaeus, leader of these villages?" A fancily-dressed man briefly examined the scholar before saying. "I came here as the representative of the the Most Serene City of Direnzzes to offer you a deal. Our glorious city shall offer you our finest guns and the service of our fine engineers and in return, we expect nothing but your cooperation in our war against the city of Littocenes."<br>
<br>
Messaline leaned in to whisper in Herphaeus' ears. "My lord, I would advise inquiring for further details, this seems too good to be true."<br>
<br>
"Is there a catch to the deal?" Herpaheus asked.<br>
<br>
"Your military are expected to defend themselves against the armies of Littocenes on your own. The Most Serene City of Direnzzes also expects material aid in the form of food and raw materials from your villages. Your forces are allowed to keep any villages they managed to conquer from Littocenes, however, in the most unlikely case of them managing to conquer the city of Littocenes proper, you are expected to hand it over to the Most Serene City of Direnzzes."<br>
<br>
Messaline once again leaned in to whisper in Herphaeus' ear. "My lord, I would suggest accepting the deal, as there could be no better alternative for us in our current state."<br>
<br>
"Sounds good enough for me."<br>
<br>
"Great, I shall be going to bring the good news to our Most Serene Mayor. Farewell, Herphaeus." The man said before making his way out of the village.<br>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center">​</div><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>5 posts until the next convergence.</i></b><br>
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px">Vethenia</span><br>
Day 20, Month 5 of the First Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle.</span><br>
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/1546225435490-png.520243/" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.rpnation.com/data/attachments/457/457205-0db68738b5288ee25fada1aee4a329e4.jpg" class="bbImage " style="" alt="1546225435490.png" title="1546225435490.png" width="52" height="100" loading="lazy"></a><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 3<br>
Economy: 4.5<br>
Military Might: 1<br>
Technological Advancements: 5<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div></div>Just as promised by the city of Direnzzes a while ago, a shipment of guns, as well as a few engineers had arrived at the villages. Herpaheus immediately distributed the guns to his soldiers and asked them to begin training with them, while the engineers were assigned to build fortifications around the largest village under Herphaeus' rule, Cantobreses. This freed up some of his men to construct more fortifications around the other villages. With his military strengthened, Herphaeus had his men set out to conquer a few villages on the outskirts of the Littocenes' sphere of influence.<br>
<br>
Meanwhile, a messenger from a nation far north has arrived in Cantobreses, promising mercenaries for a cheap price, almost too cheap to be true. Herphaeus, under Messaline's advice, decided to consider the offer before he could make a decision.<br>
<br>
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<b><i>4 posts until the next convergence.</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><b>ARRAN'AK</b><br>
<br>
<br>
Word would come from the nation to the south they had need of aid and had sent a decent sum of gold, it was no where near what normal mercenaries would demand but the dead needed little. The lands would take an army to take over and an army this new king would have. Kul'tir had raised a massive force and already they were equipped for war.  They would be put on ships and sent to the south.<br>
<br>
Sending 8 Mm to vethnia<br>
<br>
This did illustrate one issue none had thought of the world was fast and while sea was faster than land it was still slow there had to be a better way. The skies they must sail the skies and that would bypass all hazards. They would need a flying ship. Thus all the scholars and mages of the academies through the land were asked to research such a drvice.<br>
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<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
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					<div class="bbWrapper">The Jade Empress spent quite a lot on building this Impressive Library and University, even if it didn't turn out the way she hoped, it would be there for the Future whenever they will have need of it. The Jade Empress Addressed her Crowd. <span style="color: rgb(26, 188, 156)">"Today is an Auspicious Day! For we have established a Grand Cathedral of Knowledge! An Edifice, meant not only to store the Previous navigational charts and ships logs we all have need of, and the many books we stole that forced us to build a place to put them. But it is HERE, where the entirety of our People, will be lifted up from Ignorance, and a New Age! So it is my honor to be present for the GRAND OPENING! Of the Wan Shi Tong Institute of Learning!" </span>Yuan Feng-Long was pleased with just how quickly the Wan Shi Tong Institute had Grown. It had very quickly become a very fine Academy, with a particularly strong course in Naval Warfare, and Military Engineering offered, In no small part due to the experience of the commanders and the large library it contained. Not only that, but it also offered a surprisingly advanced course in Medical and Alchemical science.</div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Isle of Monsters</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 26px">L E V I ' A N T H</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Blackwell</span></span><br>​</div>
    			<div class="tabsBb" id="tabContainer_1736444795">
	    			<ul class="tabsBbTitles mainTabsBb"><li class="bbTab active"><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444797" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444795" href="javascript:">Song of the Sea</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444798" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444795" href="javascript:">Thalassophobia</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444799" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444795" href="javascript:">Xir'ain's Wisdom</a></li></ul>
	    			<ul class="tabsBbContent"><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444797" style="display: list-item;"><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 8<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 1<br>
<br>
<i>Day 35, Month 6, Year 1, 500th Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>In the early morning hours, a distant sound filled the basin of the island. Haunting and beautifully captivating, it rose and fell and exerted force on every creature that heard it. Xir'ain was deep within the Blackwell when it began, yet he could feel its pull even there. "What is that sound?" His call was for Astarot, but an answer came from an unexpected source.<br>
<br>
An imp that had been cutting away at the rock to carve a new cave had stopped to listen. "It is a siren," it answered. "She calls. You should answer her. Not good idea to let her keep singing. Makes the mind crazy. It's no good." The imp suddenly realized who it had been talking to. "My king!" It bowed so suddenly in the water that it nearly flipped entirely over.<br>
<br>
"What is a siren?"<br>
<br>
"It's a special king of mermaid," came Astarot's voice from the water behind him. "As this one says, its song can influence others, even drive them insane. Making her stop singing is a very good idea. I recommend not by killing her, as a siren is considered highly by the other mermaid. Even killing an annoying one could be reason for them to want revenge."<br>
<br>
"So I should talk to it then?"<br>
<br>
"That is certainly one way to force it to stop singing. It is hard to sing like that while carrying on a polite conversation."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain surged up from the depths and broke through the surface of the dark water. Before he touched the ground Astarot had changed him into the shape of the king of beasts - it had become his preferred shape for moving across the land - and he landed with his feet already launching him forward into the forest. On his way he was forced to slow as two other leviathan came from the direction he was headed. They would not have been able to keep pace with him in their natural serpentine shape. They told him nothing new, only that there was a strange sound coming from beyond the mountains. Xir'ain had focused on establishing order and stability for his people this whole time, so climbing the ring of mountains that surrounded the basin where the Blackwell and the forest sat had been forbidden. Now he would be first one to break his own law. Xir'ain thanked the leviathan and continued on his race towards the sound.<br>
<br>
Even with the speed this shape allowed him, it took Xir'ain hours to pass through to the far side of the forest. The mountains were not high in the direction of the sound, as if the caller wished for him to come sooner, but the climb did slow Xir'ain down. He stopped at the top of the ridge. Beyond the mountains the island fell down to meet the coastline. On the other side of that line, as far as he could see... the ocean. He had only ever seen this view of it through Astarot's mirror, but he found himself filled with a deep sadness. Somewhere in that infinite water was the water he'd been born in. That was where his people belonged. That was where they could not go because of the hate of the sea serpent that had killed their god. He forced himself to look away from the beautiful sight and began his way down the mountain. He stopped only to drink water that stung his throat and chilled his body, otherwise running the entire way to where the ground grew less steep and leveled out before it reached the water.<br>
<br>
There he found the singer. Upon laying his eyes on her, her spell became many times more potent. The force that had been pulling him towards her suddenly became a compulsion to lay down and submit himself to her. She was everything. He was not worthy even as a gift to her, but he would give everything of himself to her. If she wished for him to die, he would just to please her. Such was the unnatural love he felt for this terrible creature.<br>
<br>
She had stopped singing, and only now was his brain unclouded enough to actually see what he'd been ready to throw himself into. He had seen what a mermaid looked like before - Astarot had shown him their shape - and the leviathan knew of them as another race that inhabited the oceans, but seeing the real thing was different. It really did look as if a human - another thing he had only seen in Astarot's lessons - had been stuck atop a fish. Xir'ain had expected the combination to be grotesque, but instead he found their shape appealing in its strangeness. Watching Astarot shift between shapes constantly had made him appreciate more unique shapes. Too many creatures looked the same with tiny changes.<br>
<br>
The siren was a beautiful mermaid with an upper half the color of the solid water that topped the highest mountains that ringed the island, and her lower half was a shimmering blue that he thought he could see right through, like it was made of water. Her violet eyes waited for Xir'ain's own to find them, and then she smiled. His eyes moved off of the siren. She was sitting out of the water on a rock, but around the rock there was a raised wave frozen before crashing, and within and above this unnatural shape of water was a dozen or more other mermaids and mermen. None of these smiled as his eyes passed over them, and many scowled or outright glared in response to his gaze.<br>
<br>
"You are the one who oversees this isle?" The siren spoke, and even when not singing her voice was had an enthralling quality.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain resisted it now. "I am. What is it you-"<br>
<br>
"Will you tell me your name, if you have one?"<br>
<br>
Very few times since becoming king had a creature dared speak over Xir'ain. It was an odd thing. He considered the idea of lying now, but he still found the idea of lying without knowing why an unpleasant one. So he did not. "I am Xir'ain. Now identify yourself."<br>
<br>
Perhaps his name was something he should have kept hidden, for as soon as he spoke it the siren's smile faded, and there was a pause before she responded. "I am called Enly'air, siren to the Queen Haarii."<br>
<br>
"The light that moves the seas," he said. It was what her name said in the language of his god. Or perhaps it was the light that moves over the ocean? Aquan was good at describing emotion and ideas, but it cared less for clarity in what it described. It was not the case when the sea serpents spoke it. From their tongues it could describe the entire world or a single inch of water in every detail within a phrase.<br>
<br>
"You know the old language of the seas?" When Xir'ain did not answer her, she sighed. "I believe I've gotten what I came here for." The siren said something in a different language, and the other merfolk parted to give her space to rejoin them in the water. There was a commotion among the merfolk near the back of the group, and one was shaking its spear as if to dislodge something from it, but there was nothing there.<br>
<br>
"Ahh Aaaah Ohhhhh Eeh Ahh!" On the rock where Enly'air had just left, Astarot was sitting in a caricature of her shape and singing, quite poorly. She broke up into laughter, and her shape distorted so that she was now a full-size mermaid, though entirely black in color and what should have been a fish was instead the long tail of a leviathan. Where the leviathan tail met the human body opened up into a mouth of needle-like teeth that the human upper body fell down into. The phantom leviathan broke apart and Astarot reappeared properly. She grinned like a shark facing a school of slow fish. "That's what you're here looking for, yes? The big snake is too lazy to search the entire ocean and islands, so he's sent your kind to check around for the leviathan he lost." She laughed at the cold faces of the merfolk. "Oh you poor little fishes, are you being bullied by the big scary sea serpent?"<br>
<br>
Astarot walked on top of the waves right up to the siren. "Tell Nereid and his king that Astarot, fairy to Xir'ain, king of the leviathan and Blackwell, wishes to meet with them, at their earliest convenience." Somehow the way she released each word implied that there was a threat there, yet nothing of the words spoke to that end.<br>
<br>
The siren bowed her head to the fairy, met Xir'ain's eyes once more, and with a word to her entourage dove beneath the waves.<br>
<br>
<br>
Before the month was ended, Astarot swam through the regal halls of the Atlantean throne room. Nereid was there, his electric blue eyes cold enough to chill a summer day, as was his king, the Queen Haarii. The young queen regarded the dark fairy with an open curiosity. "Greetings Astarot, fairy to the nation of... the nation of leviathan," the queen paused as if expected Astarot to supply the information she lacked, but the fairy remained quiet until she continued, only after bothering to correct her.<br>
<br>
"My nation is yet only a single city," she said. "That city's name is Levi'anth. It sits upon what the humans named the Blackwell."<br>
<br>
"The Blackwell? I had been told as much, but to hear you say so." The queen raised a hand to her mouth. "Might you speak on rumor for a moment? Is what they say about the Blackwell true? Is it truly cursed?"<br>
<br>
Astarot pretended to consider the question. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. The water certainly is an odd complexion."<br>
<br>
The queen nodded. She may be young, but she at least could respect the fairy for pretending to care for the game of politics. "You chose a leviathan as your king," it was Nereid that called out the dark fairy.<br>
<br>
"Oh Ne-nid, I didn't notice you there. You just blend right into all of the water. My apologies. How are you?"<br>
<br>
The blue fairy chilled the water within the room as a warning. "Why would you choose a king from a people already marked for death? Does your attention span run so short that you would take up a transient nation, just to die when their time runs out?" The genuine anger in Nereid's words came to a shock to Astarot. Even if his words were true and she'd taken on a doomed role, why should another fairy care if she did? "You are still young and foolish! Break this folly contract and choose a new king!"<br>
<br>
"Nereid!" The queen raised her voice to silence her fairy. "You go too far," she warned him, and then to Astarot, "You have my apologies for Nereid's foolish words. Please forgive them as he forgives you and yours."<br>
<br>
Astarot was continuously surprised by this little queen. She had learned her role well. "It is so," she accepted, though Nereid still glared at her from just behind Haarii's back.<br>
<br>
"Tell me, where is your king now?" The queen asked a simple question to smooth the water.<br>
<br>
"He remains in Levi'anth," Astarot spoke truthfully, though not the entire truth. Even now her king observed through her. "As you know, it would not be wise for he or any of the leviathan to move through the sea."<br>
<br>
"Yes, we know of the Epsil'tal's vendetta. He truly hates those you have chosen to protect." The queen said as much without any hint of judgement, as if she was simply commenting on the water temperature. "And he has asked my and my own to search for them, just as you said. Tell me, what reason can you give me to not turn the location of the leviathan over to the sea serpents so they can exterminate them?" Upon hearing Haarii say this Nereid grew pale. He disliked Astarot, more on principal than any personal reason, the same as most fairy that only heard rumors of what she did yet never really understood it, but that didn't mean he wished for one of his own kind to die. Thankfully, there were others that did not share that way of thinking of their own kind.<br>
<br>
Astarot laughed, startling both the queen and fairy, as nothing that could possibly be seen as amusing had been said. "Oh, that's not really what I came here to talk about," she said with a smile. "I'm here to negotiate a trade."<br>
<br>
"I'm sorry, but I do not quite understand. Your people are still very much under the threat of extermination. What reason is there for my people to trade anything to a people that will soon be no more?"<br>
<br>
Astarot ignored this question to ask her own. "Tell me, how many of your people are in contact the sea serpents?"<br>
<br>
Astarot was suddenly immobilized as the water around her crystallized. "If that is a threat, I do not think it is one you wish to make." Nereid had raised his hand towards her. Astarot may be one of his own kind, and he did not wish her dead, but his loyalty was to his nation and its people. If she threatened those he protected, he would eliminate her.<br>
<br>
"Hold Nereid," the queen ordered him to wait. "What is the meaning behind this inquiry?"<br>
<br>
"To keep a secret from the ocean is difficult if it bothers listening to gossip. A simple number will do. How many of your people are able to contact Espil'tal?"<br>
<br>
"The Lapis Serpent? He allows few of us to speak to him. Though we know he can speak our language, he will only speak to us in the old language of the sea, which few of my people now know, only myself and the siren by necessity."<br>
<br>
"Espil'tal, your stupid pride works against you," Astarot grinned wide. She'd guessed and hoped for as much. "So if you were to order those few of your kind able to speak to Epsil'tal to... not speak of my peoples' whereabouts, then there would be no way for the serpent to learn of it."<br>
<br>
Haarii sighed and gathered her thoughts about what the fairy proposed. "And what of the others? As you should be aware, my people move throughout much of the old territory of the Golden Serpent. The other serpents of the inner sea are less rigid in how they are addressed. Sel'vetal will visit our cities and speak with those who swim out to meet him. Ain'vin... that one does not care what language you use to praise her, so long as there is praise given. The secret you propose could not be kept from them. My people partake is rumor and gossip as sport. They would not keep your secret."<br>
<br>
"I do not ask for your entire people to keep a secret, only the few that might speak to Epsil'tal himself. The other serpents will not be a problem. The narcissist aside, did you know that I spoke to Sel'vetal?"<br>
<br>
At this Nereid groaned and sank down in the water while his queen covered a smile. "We were not aware. When was this?"<br>
<br>
"The very day your siren so rudely dragged my and my king out of bed," Astarot said. Nereid had released his hold on her now. "I spoke to that upstart serpent, and after some convincing that it would be in his best interest, he agreed to not give the location of the leviathan over to Epsil'tal right away. Given how large the ocean is and how many islands he would potentially have to search, I made him agree to a stay of execution for a period of 30 years. I tried to get him up to 50, any older serpent would have agreed to that much without hesitation, but he's so young he thinks that difference matters to his kind."<br>
<br>
"You convinced a sea serpent to lie?" The mermaid queen was in awe of the audacity of this black fairy, but her own fairy seemed just as troubled by this point as everything else Astarot had said.<br>
<br>
"These young serpents are not very good at being sea serpents," Astarot said with a hint of dark humor. "They speak their ancient tongue without the pride it demands of them, and their minds think too much like humans. They are failures. All of the serpents of the inner seas are. Convincing the young one to lie if he thought it would benefit himself was the easiest part of speaking with him. The difficult part was tolerating him long enough to get to that part."<br>
<br>
"You..." Nereid shook his head. "You are as unfitting a fairy as they are unfitting to be sea serpents."<br>
<br>
Astarot accepted this compliment. "Though there is a condition on his silence. The leviathan are still barred from the ocean."<br>
<br>
"And that is why you have come to trade," the queen finally had all of the pieces to figure out what the black fairy's intentions for this meeting were. "Blackwell is a large island, but depending on how many leviathan you have to feed, maintaining that sort of food supply will be difficult. You need food from my people. Tell me, what do you have to offer in return?"<br>
<br>
Astarot grinned. "Might I speak on rumor for a moment?" she repeated the queen's earlier words. "At what price do you value the secret of the Blackwell?"<br>
<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444798" style="display: none;"><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 8<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 1<br>
<br>
<i>Day 12, Month 2, Year 2, 500th Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>Xir'ain watched over the small bay where the merfolk tended to the fish farm that fed the leviathan population hidden within the island. They still needed to supplement these fish with prey from the land of the island, but they no longer hunted to the point that the forest was empty of all life. According to the mermaids, if they let the fish farm increase for a few more years, then they may be enough to feed all of the leviathan and the imps too. His people had food and were safe, and Astarot had bought them time. Yet Xir'ain was uneasy. Now that they had some amount of stability and comfort, they were remembering that their home was their prison. They were growing restless. He needed to figure out a solution to this, before it became a much larger problem. While still water might not kill the leviathan as it killed fish, it would kill the mind.<br>
<br>
His thoughts on how to bolster his peoples' spirits were interrupted by a roar of fear. It was a strange sound, for it was from a leviathan, and there was no reason on this island for a leviathan to fear anything. Xir'ain jumped to his feet and raced down the slope towards the water. The roar had come from the water! Now Xir'ain feared. There was one thing for the leviathan to fear, and it surrounded them. He came to the scene. A group of mermaids had pulled a leviathan that had been walking along the stones into the water. Xir'ain roared and raced tot he water's edge at such speed that his body seemed a blur.<br>
<br>
No, his body hadn't blurred, it was actually distorted. He skipped to a stop just before sliding into the ocean himself, his legs breaking apart and grabbing onto the rock more like roots than limbs of any beast, and his long black tail elongated unnaturally as it lashed out towards the horrified mermaids in the water. It split and somehow encircled the necks of the mermaids when it should have taken their heads from them, while Xir'ain pulled the leviathan from the water in his powerful jaws, his needle-sharp teeth flattened as if each one was the fang of a snake. As his body regathered into a more natural shape, Xir'ain threw the mermaids onto the stones away from the water they needed to move about with ease.<br>
<br>
"Do you know what you could have done!" He roared louder than any sound the island had heard outside of the unnatural song of the siren. Xir'ain was furious. His unstable shape seemed to grow much larger than his body should have been, and the mermaids cowered.<br>
<br>
Astarot watched unseen sitting atop the surface of the waves. She'd been playing with Hae'don deep down in the Blackwell and hadn't arrived in time to act upon her king's call. Xir'ain had changed his shape entirely without her. Not just that, he had completely broken away from either of the forms she'd carved into him. The shape his body had distorted into wasn't any creature of its own that she knew. He had simply changed his shape to give him what he needed then. Even when his body changed back from that unnatural shape, it was not back into the land shape that Xir'ain had been in before and had run towards the scene in, it was instead back to his natural shape. That fear towards her king that she felt was also the hope she held for him. But she again had to ask herself just what exactly she had brought up from the deepest bottom of the ocean.<br>
<br>
When next her king slumbered, Astarot looked inside to his core. What she saw there only troubled her further. Around where she'd carved the shape of the panther there were thin cracks leaking golden light. She did not know what this meant, only that it was yet another thing she would need to keep track of.<br>
<br>
<br>
A few days later, Xir'ain met with Enly'air at the edge of the water, and they were forced to discuss what was to be done with the mermaids that had been so far been held within Levi'anth. The mermaids had no way to get back to the ocean on their own, so there was little need to watch them. They had mostly stayed in the cave Xir'ain had first pointed them to when his rage had still burned hot.<br>
<br>
"They could have killed us. Every one of my people could have died because of their game!" Xir'ain's anger had cooled very little when thinking about what had happened.<br>
<br>
"I am not proposing they be pardoned," said the siren that had become a sort of unofficial emissary between the merfolk and  the leviathan since the two groups had begun to share work and ideas. It had been something Xir'ain had proposed, possibly due to the siren's being the only name of a mermaid besides the queen's that he remembered at the time. "I simply propose they be pardoned from death," her hypnotic voice clarified her point. "They are young, and a mistake was made without intention to cause harm. Punish them yes, but do not kill them."<br>
<br>
"Is that your wishes, or that of your queen?" Xir'ain's anger was making him difficult.<br>
<br>
Enly'air rested her arms on the rocks, her violet eyes daring Xir'ain to meet them, though he was adamant about not falling for the siren's enchantment again. "The queen wishes for her people to live, of course. Surely that is a sentiment you share?"<br>
<br>
He growled, but he did understand that. Xir'ain had often thought about what he would do if one of his people should be killed. He still did not know the answer, but he knew it would not be something pleasant. Even thinking about the possibility of the single leviathan the mermaids had dragged into the ocean somehow dying made him want to rush back to his city and slaughter them all. He had avoided returning to Levi'anth in the past few days to keep himself from doing that. He could't afford to anger the merfolk. His people relied on their support to live right now as much as the deal with the sea serpent to not be wiped out.<br>
<br>
When the king did not answer her, Enly'air sighed. "It is my own as well. I do not wish for you to kill the mermaids."<br>
<br>
"So you and the queen are the same then," Xir'ain said.<br>
<br>
"Yes, in that we do not wish for mermaids to die. But I do not want <i>you</i> to kill mermaids."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain roared out in frustration. This siren always annoyed him with her circular words, as if her unnatural voice wasn't enough to madden him. "Fine, I will not kill them!"<br>
<br>
Enly'air smiled at that. "So what punishment will you come up with?"<br>
<br>
"They do not like my city," Xir'ain said after thinking for quite some time, during which the siren continued to try and trick him into being charmed by her. He'd have come up with something much sooner if she could just stop being a siren for a short time. His words still angry, but not because of what he'd said. Levi'anth was not a city for mermaids, so he did not care if they disliked it. "They will remain in Levi'anth."<br>
<br>
"For how long will they be kept there?"<br>
<br>
"I do not know!"<br>
<br>
"What will they eat? I expect you've been feeding them nothing but fish for the past days. Mermaids are not carnivores like your kind, we require other foods as well you know."<br>
<br>
"I... did not," Xir'ain's body fell against the ground heavily. "You eat plants? When you are not sick?"<br>
<br>
The siren laughed. "Mermaids eat more underwater plants than fish. I don't know why that is, it is how it is. So if you intend on keeping mermaids within Levi'anth, you will need to be able to ensure they can eat proper food. Can you do that?"<br>
<br>
"I don't know!" Xir'ain was angry again. It felt like the siren was making a joke of him, and he did not understand what it was.<br>
<br>
Enly'air continued to laugh at the frustrated king, and they eventually settled on a plan that she would take back to the queen for approval. The four mermaids would spend up to four years in Levi'anth, under the ownership of the leviathan. Upon four years passing or if Xir'ain ended their sentence before that point, they would be released and returned to Atlantis. This would be the punishment for any merfolk crime committed against the Levi'anth, though the length of the sentence would change. It was not a perfect way of dealing with problems, but it was enough for now.<br>
<br>
What the siren kept from him was that many other merfolk had seen him when he'd pulled the mermaids from the water. They'd seen how his body became unnatural as if twisted by his anger. They did not speak it to he or his people, or around the queen that supported the leviathan, but among themselves they began to use the word 'monster' to describe the leviathan, and Xir'ain was the most monstrous of them, the king of monsters<br>
<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444799" style="display: none;"><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 8<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 1<br>
<br>
<i>Day 40, Month 8, Year 6, 500th Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>Xir'ain was in the middle of what had become his normal routine. As the problems of his people surviving and living in Levi'anth were taken care of and less and less new problems arose each day, he was pushed into a strange new place of lacking things to do. So each day he would check on as many of his people and as much of his nation as he could. This had been Astarot's idea, and like most of what she suggested, it somehow worked. Though Xir'ain still felt as if he wasn't contributing as much as he had to his people as when there had been problems for him to solve, they at least seemed to appreciate their king showing interest in the things that went on in their lives.<br>
<br>
He'd already visited Hae'don and eaten with the other leviathan. He'd watched the leviathan that tended to his throne, deep within the Blackwell where the imps would not work. Upon learning of a thing called a throne, that kings elsewhere sat upon so others might know their status, Xir'ain had had dragged a large tree to the black lake and dropped into it. It had been stood up at the very bottom of the Blackwell, where the dark water rose through the rocks and up around its roots and branches. Xir'ain still found joy in coiling around the branches of the tree, even underwater, and would often rest in its branches. In the year since it had been submerged though, it had lost much of its color and softness. Astarot had explained that the wood would die and break apart in the water, but the opposite seemed to be happening. It was slowly becoming harder as it absorbed the black water straight from its source, and the varied browns and greens of the tree had faded towards the deep black of the water and stones around it.<br>
<br>
The slow petrification of the tree into black stone was something that excited Astarot, but Xir'ain had not see the value in black stone that created more black stone as she did. He knew it was valuable of course, else the merfolk would not trade for it, but he did not quite understand why. Astarot only said it was important for the future of his nation, and that being able to make more of it was a very good thing. Around that large tree that served as his throne, scattered about the bottom of the Blackwell were many more smaller trees. Astarot wished to see if they would also be transformed by the black water. She often switched between calling it her garden or her experiment. Xir'ain didn't understand it, but it seemed to make the fairy happy.<br>
<br>
He ascended from the depths of his city to where the majority of the other leviathan lived. The imps had once dug little more than holes in the rock walls for the leviathan to crawl into, but Xir'ain had rewarded skillful work, and they had slowly improved their craft. The newly excavated caverns were both larger and more intricately carved. But the number of leviathan had remained the same, and many of the imps' best works remained empty. Without a real need to carve out more homes for the leviathan, Xir'ain had needed to find a new purpose for the imps. With Astarot's help he had come to a solution that would keep the imps happy and improve Levi'anth as a whole. He gave the imps two kinds of work: they would improve upon their own homes in the upper parts of the city, and they would begin to use their carving skills for art instead of pure utility.<br>
<br>
He approached a group of imps that were at work carving a scene of the sea serpent that had created the leviathan with two smaller serpents coiled around it. The scene was a tragic one, but it was something that needed to be recorded. At least that was what Astarot said. Xir'ain didn't completely understand the purpose of history or recording what had already happened, but Astarot had been insistent on this point. The large female leviathan that was overseeing the imps' work swam over to greet her king by sliding next to him.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain untwined himself from her and swam closer to the mural. The imps acknowledged that he was there and continued work. He had made it clear to them that they did not need to stop their work whenever he approached. "How goes your work, Yazir'el?"<br>
<br>
"It is a terrible thing," she said about the scene.<br>
<br>
"It is, but recording it in this way is important." He simply repeated what the fairy had said, not feeling them himself.<br>
<br>
But to Xir'ain's surprise the larger leviathan said, "Yes, it is important that we do not forget."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain looked at her. He had not forgotten anything about it. He never would forget that. The others must be the same, so what was it she thought would be forgotten? He did not speak this question aloud, he simply agreed with her and after some more unimportant words continued on his way.<br>
<br>
Up past the smaller tunnels that were the imps' homes, a place that grew more decorated by the day, he swam until he was nearly at the surface of the Blackwell. There along one edge of the lake was a series of long flat steps that rose above the ground and down below the water. Many leviathan lay on the steps, both above and below the water, some in their natural form while others lounged in the four-legged land form. They were watching the black fairy standing on the surface of the water before them. It had taken much convincing, but Xir'ain had finally convinced Astarot to teach the other leviathan about the creatures and other things of the land as she had taught him. To his own surprise and the fairy's constant annoyance, very few of the other leviathan were anywhere near as quick a student as Xir'ain had been. Astarot needed to teach the same things many times over before some leviathan truly understood it. So while Xir'ain found himself lacking purpose, Astarot had become more busy than ever.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain slipped quietly from the water, shifting into land shape smoothly. He was silent until he'd gotten deep into the forest. There was a small clearing with three trees around its edge that had cuts along their bark. Xir'ain flicked his long bladed tail towards one of these trees, stabbing into it. His tail whipped around to slice the other two, then stabbed one, circled back to slice the first, and stabbed the remaining one. He jumped into the air and swung his tail so that he sliced each tree once with a single motion. This was his training, though for what he had no idea. It was simply something that distracted him. But today he quickly grew bored hacking at trees. He struck at one so hard that he was forced to reshape his tail to remove it.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain ran. At first he had no destination in mind, he simply needed to move, but eventually his path turned towards the dip in the mountains that would lead him towards the place he had first encountered Enly'air. When he neared the highest point of this pass, Xir'ain was met by an unexpected sight. There was already someone there. The other leviathan had watched the king climb without saying anything or moving, so Xir'ain had failed to notice it sooner. But now it bowed its head.<br>
<br>
"You are not supposed to be here," Xir'ain growled. "What reason do you have for being here?"<br>
<br>
The other leviathan sent a thoughtful loop along the length of its tail. "I think for a similar reason as you, my king," it said with a hissing voice.<br>
<br>
"And what reason is that?"<br>
<br>
The other leviathan offered no answer, realizing it might be wrong to assume his king's reasons. Xir'ain moved up to sit beside the other leviathan atop the ridge. He'd figured out who this was just now when he'd spoken. It was Ore'seur, one of the more solitary leviathan. He had impressed Astarot by absorbing everything she taught nearly as quick as Xir'ain had, but he'd stopped showing up when she taught. Apparently he had been sneaking away where he wasn't supposed to. "Astarot speaks highly of you," Xir'ain said.<br>
<br>
"She does need to repeat herself to me," Ore'seur responded. "The others do not learn right away, so she has to repeat herself until they do. She does not like repeating herself."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain nodded at that. "No, she does not. I am impressed that she does not torment those slow to learn." A soft laugh rumbled in his chest upon imagining a great leviathan coming to him begging him to call off the tiny fairy. The humor was not lost by the scene being too close to reality. "So is that it? You think you have learned everything, so you run off to where you should not?"<br>
<br>
"I have not learned everything!" The leviathan surprised Xir'ain with the strength of his words. "I have learned what the fairy teaches, but that is not everything. It is barely anything." When his king remained silent, the leviathan continued. "We were content in our old home because it was all we knew. We had the whole ocean, the whole world, but we didn't even recognize that it was there. If not for... " Every leviathan disliked talking about what had happened to their home and their god, but it was a silence that all new the meaning of. "We would have never even thought to swim beyond that abyss."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain was listening intently to this leviathan's words. The things he said were something entirely new to Xir'ain. There were implications in them that made him uncomfortable. "Do you not mourn what was lost?"<br>
<br>
"I mourn it, but I also accept that it is no more. We idealize our birthplace, but to think of it now, I cannot see how it was any less of a prison than this place."<br>
<br>
A growl escaped Xir'ain as he jumped up. "Ore'seur, you would call the place you were born a prison?"<br>
<br>
"Perhaps not," he said slowly. "We were not trapped there, but there was a force that kept us from leaving."<br>
<br>
"He was our god!" Xir'ain roared.<br>
<br>
"And so we stayed," Ore'seur said almost sadly. "We had the whole ocean, the whole world, yet we never left the place we were born." He stared out at the ocean far below. "Then I never once thought of what could be outside of the abyss. I did not know enough to think of it. But now I do. I do not know everything. I know barely anything. But it is enough to know that more exists."<br>
<br>
"You speak like a merfolk," Xir'ain growled.<br>
<br>
"I have been speaking with them," Ore'seur admitted. "They tell me of the places far away from here. There is so much in this world that we do not know. I want to see it."<br>
<br>
"We cannot leave this place. The ocean hates us. The one who killed our god still hunts us. If he finds us, he will kill us."<br>
<br>
Ore'seur refused to look at his king. "I cannot live as a prisoner forever. It will ruin me."<br>
<br>
"If you leave here, you will ruin all of us!"<br>
<br>
Ore'seur's long tail slammed into the ground. "I know that! So I come here every day and look for what I cannot see and imagine that I can!"<br>
<br>
"You will return to the city! Speak no more of this."<br>
<br>
<br>
"Knowledge is his siren," Astarot said after Xir'ain had told her about Ore'seur. They were resting in the petrified tree that served as his throne, Xir'ain coiled around the branches with his fairy laying atop his head. "Did you know, when I was teaching you the shapes of everything I knew, I found it amazing how you learned everything so quickly, yet you hardly ever asked questions. You only ask me to explain something when it becomes useful."<br>
<br>
"Knowledge is only important when it can be used," Xir'ain said simply.<br>
<br>
"That isn't how Ore'seur is. He gains knowledge for no reason. It has become a need as important as food to him. More important I should think." Astarot stretched out as she considered a solution to this situation. "He is bored," she finally said.<br>
<br>
I am bored, Xir'ain thought to himself but did not say.<br>
<br>
"For now what he needs is something to occupy his time and mind. That will at least buy time for a more long-term solution to be found. Lack of stimulation..." Astarot looked up the Blackwell, though the light from the pool high above didn't make it down this far. "I hadn't thought of that. It's going to become a problem for more leviathan over time if nothing is done." She was silent for a long time, so long that Xir'ain assumed she had decided to take a nap. "Tell him that he will be allowed to leave the island," she said out of nowhere.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain raised his head so that she nearly was knocked off of it. "He cannot. If the serpent-"<br>
<br>
"I will find a way to deal with that," Astarot assured her king, rubbing her hand along his crest to calm his flash of anger. "But he won't be leaving for a long while yet. Tell him he can go, but only after he has shown himself ready to handle himself out in the world alone. That will mean he has much more to learn and prepare for. The world is as large as it can be dangerous, so this promise will buy you plenty of time."<br>
<br>
"I will speak with Ore'seur," Xir'ain said. He didn't like this promise. It felt like a lie.<br>
<br></li></ul>
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<b>1 posts until the next Convergence of Kings</b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px">Vethenia</span><br>
Day 13, Month 7 of the Tenth Year in the 500th Convergence Cycle.</span><br>
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/1546248497647-png.520420/" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.rpnation.com/data/attachments/457/457382-c84cbedd529a00035791c745da4339cb.jpg" class="bbImage " style="" alt="1546248497647.png" title="1546248497647.png" width="100" height="73" loading="lazy"></a><br>

    			<div class="tabsBb" id="tabContainer_1736444796">
	    			<ul class="tabsBbTitles mainTabsBb"><li class="bbTab active"><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444796" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444796" href="javascript:"> The University</a></li></ul>
	    			<ul class="tabsBbContent"><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444796" style="display: list-item;"><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 3<br>
Economy:2.5<br>
Military Might: 4+8<br>
Technological Advancements: 5<br>
Citizen Happiness: 0<br>
</div></li></ul>
    			</div></div>
    			<div class="tabsBb" id="tabContainer_1736444797">
	    			<ul class="tabsBbTitles mainTabsBb"><li class="bbTab active"><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444797" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444797" href="javascript:"> The University</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444798" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444797" href="javascript:"> The Undead</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444799" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444797" href="javascript:"> Unification</a></li></ul>
	    			<ul class="tabsBbContent"><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444797" style="display: list-item;"><br>
It has been ten years since Herphaeus was chosen as king by his current companion fairy. Throughout the years, the small village that was Cantobreses had grown into something more. Walls were built, buildings were upgraded, roads were paved, and as the village grew into a fledgling town, people from all corners of Vethenia had moved into it, seeking an opportunity to make a fortune from its' growth.<br>
<br>
This day, Herphaeus woke up with a smile on his face. Why? Because the university he had commissioned years ago is finally complete, and today is the day it shall be unveiled to the world. It might be small, it's facilities might be lacking, and it's libraries might not even have half of the books that it's rivals had in their collections, but it is HIS university. Ever since the man had started his journey of enlightenment, he had always wanted to pass on his knowledge, leave a mark on the world, and the gods above had gave him more than he wanted. Not only that he has his own university now, he had also found himself ruling over a small, but prosperous realm in the center of Vethenia as of now referred to as the Confederacy of Cantobreses. The war between Direnzzes and Littocenes had saw an expansion of Herphaeus' realm as his forces liberated numerous villages from their Littocenian overlords, not to mention the riches that they gained in the war that had been used in building up the fledgling nation. While his realm is certainly nowhere close to being as powerful as one of the city states, it's far from the mere bunch of united villages it used to be. Each of the villages under Herphaeus' rule are defended by simple walls, and linked to each other via a network of roads. Some of them are even armed with cannons to deter foreign attackers.<br>
<br>
As Herphaeus made his way to the small building that would become the Cantobresian Institute of Natural Sciences, he once again mentally recited the opening speech, which was prepared by Messaline weeks prior. His hands were wet with sweat, and his steps grew more and more nervous the closer he got to the building, but he's nonetheless extremely excited of what was about to come. The open ground in front of the building was packed with people, townsfolk that were notified that their mayor was about to make a speech about something and curious enough to see what it's all about. Herphaeus stood behind an old podium, used ever since the early days of the nation. Even though the wood is showing clear signs of rot, the man had never thought about changing it, as he sees no point doing so.<br>
<br>
"I see that all of you have assembled for this auspicious day, my fellow citizens. I am pleased to announce that today shall see the opening of the Cantobresian Institute of Natural Sciences!" Herphaeus spoke loudly with a wide smile on his face. He then proceeded to promise that the institution shall be open to all sentient beings, that great contributions shall be made towards the progress of civilization, that it shall provide education to all for free. He then introduced the staff, all scholars of the natural sciences from all corners of the region enthusiastic about the idea of spreading their knowledge to the common people, except for the janitors, who were just townspeople hired for the purpose. Ending the speech with the fact that enrollment starts now, Herphaeus watched in satisfaction as a few townspeople cautiously made their way to the enrollment booth and wrote their names. This is surely the start of a new page in Cantobresian history.<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444798" style="display: none;"><br>
"Palymros, I've been waiting for your return from the realm of Arran'ak. Do you have anything in particular to report?" Herphaeus looked up from the pile of papers on his table.<br>
<br>
"Sir Herphaeus, I had managed to make a deal the king of Arran'ak in return for their military support. However, there is one thing of concern regarding the nation."<br>
<br>
"What is it?"<br>
<br>
"They're all dead."<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
Herphaeus looked at the undead army slowly marching down the road leading into Cantobreses. The townsfolk would had panicked upon noticing their skeletal visages, had said army not be holding a flag with the Cantobresian coat of arms on it, alongside the flag of Arran'ak.<br>
<br>
"I see what you meant, Palymros. This is indeed a matter of concern. Your Ladyship, any thoughts?"<br>
<br>
"Having an army of undead serving under you may bring forth accusations of necromancy, my lord. While the Vethenian people may not have any particular aversion to the living dead, I'm afraid that said accusations might affect your diplomatic reputation, making it harder for you to conduct diplomacy, if not outright impossible. However, the risk of an invasion from the city states grows larger over time if we do not take action, and we could not afford the time it would take to assemble an army of that size, my lord. Besides, the living dead may also demoralize the enemy, making any battle easier to fight, and as our troops grow accustomed to their presence, they may gain an edge over the undead if we ever come to blows in the future. I would suggest you to accept their service."<br>
<br>
"Well, that seems like a fair trade, Your Ladyship. I would personally love to study the undead, these creatures are truly fascinating, they live, yet they aren't. Maybe I should personally head to Arran'ak in the future, to unveil any secrets they might have. That's assuming that I have the time, that is. Open the gates and let them in."<br>
<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444799" style="display: none;"><br>
The Cantobresians marched against the foe, alongside the undead from the far north. Messaline's words were proven to be true, the enemy fled as soon as they saw the masses of the living dead marching against them, and so far, they had been able to conquer large swathes of lands from the city states. However, the enemy also accused Herphaeus for necromancy, and all the city states of Vethenia are now united against a single foe. This day, the Cantobresian army found itself at battle with the largest army ever assembled in Vethenian history ever since the invasion of the Sarogoths. Hundreds of trees were cut down by both sides in the weeks leading to the battle. Various banners and coat of arms were proudly displayed by the enemy lines, from those of the rich port city of Raguzios to the famed city of Sparucius, even those of their old supporters, the city of Direnzzes can be found on the other side. However, the Cantobresians pressed on, as they knew that they had no choice. The realm of Vethenia must be united once again, no matter what it takes. Only then, may a new chapter in Vethenian history may begin. Only then, may the common people enjoy peace and prosperity under the rightful lord of the realm, Herphaeus Magnus.<br>
<br>
A sergeant shouted for his men to get in formation, as both sides marched against each other with their weapons at hand. Cannon fire boomed behind the ranks of the soldiers, sending cannonballs flying directly into the ranks of the enemy. Those that were hit found their body parts scattered across the ground as well as onto any of their comrades unfortunate enough to be near them, in a cloud of blood and gore. Before both sides even got into the range of firearms, the battleground is already soaked with blood and ichor, and it would only get worse as time passed.<br>
<br>
The columns of men halted their steps in unison. They are now close enough to unleash their firearms on each other. Guns were unslinged from the shoulders of men and pointed towards the other side.  One of the sergeants deeply inhaled before yelling at the top of his lungs. "Fire!"  The men obeyed the order and pulled the trigger, unleashing a wave of death onto the enemy. Many of the enemy dropped dead on the ground, but even more still stood, and they fired back, and many good men of the Cantobreses dropped onto the ground. While both sides reloaded their rifles, the undead mercenaries of Arran'ak continued marching forward, knowing no fear nor pain.<br>
<br>
"Focus on the undead, don't let them get near our lines!" came an order from the enemy lines, a grave mistake indeed, as the undead cannot fire back at this range, but the Cantobresians could. Another wave of bullets were unleashed by both sides, leaving many dead on the ground. However, the undead suffered little casualties, as most of the enemy fire found the wrong spots on their skeletal bodies, while many of the enemy dropped dead from the fire of the Cantobresian guns. The undead continued their relentless march, and the enemy was beginning to show terror on their faces. Some fled, and were shot dead by their comrades, but even more stood where they are, fiddling with their weapons in an attempt to reload faster. Waves of fire continued to be unleashed by both sides, but it was becoming obvious that the enemy is faltering as the undead got closer and closer to their lines.<br>
<br>
The enemy unleashed one last volley, before the undead had finally got into range. The skeletal archers stood where they are, unleashing a storm of arrows onto the relatively unarmoured lines of the enemy, while their comrades marched onwards. Even more of the enemy wavered and fled, and it became apparent that a mass rout was about to happen if something was not done. Unfortunately for them, the Cantobresians noticed that and a purple flag was waved.<br>
<br>
"Charge!" The Cantobresian cavalry corp emerged from the remaining forests and charged towards the flanks of the enemy. While their numbers were laughable, it didn't matter to the terrified foe. All that mattered was that they were flanked, and that was the last straw for them. A mass rout happened on the enemy side, as every man tried to flee the battlefield before they either fell to the blades of the undead, or the sabres of the Cantobresian cavalry. However, there are still those who decided to fight to the end, who fixed their bayonets and charged towards the lines of undead in front of them, all the while yelling battlecries and prayers to the gods. They stood valiantly against the unliving foe, yet bayonets are not designed to hold up in melee battle, especially against foes that specialize in melee combat. One by one, these brave men were cut down by the skeletal mercenaries, and it didn't took long before the battle was over. The largest army ever seen in Vethenia was defeated, and the Cantobresians celebrated their triumph with a battlecry.<br>
<br>
"Victory!" they yelled as they raised their weapons high up in the air. The battle of Haradenes was an astounding victory, and they left behind their massive artillery arsenal too. All that stood against the Cantobresians now are the walls of the enemy cities. Yet, this was only the beginning of the Unification War. The next few years would be spent outside city walls, as each city desperately tried to stop the Cantobresians from entering their beloved cities. Unfortunately for them, the news of defeat, as well as the presence of the undead had demoralized the garrisons, and each siege became a race against time to break down the city walls before the enemy could receive reinforcements. The city of Direnzzes was the first to fall, followed by Littocenes, and Tyrenocus, and many others.  Eventually, the Cantobresian army found themselves beneath the walls of Sparucius, a city famed for their military prowess. A fierce battle was waged under, on, and over the walls of the city, as the brave men of Sparucius fought valiantly against the besiegers. However, Cantobresian guns and Arran'ak's unliving eventually broke their their defenses, sending the enemy fleeing into their castle, where they were cut down to the last men.<br>
<br>
"Sir Herphaeus, we had taken the city of Sparucius." a sergeant saluted the mayor before he reported.<br>
<br>
"This is the last one, is it correct?"<br>
<br>
"Yes, sir."<br>
<br>
"Well, I'm glad the carnage is finally over. The people had suffered too much for their unification. I would like to address the people from the castle of Sparucius. it is time to give the people what they deserved." The old man stood up from his chair and said.<br>
<br>
"Of course, sir. I shall lead the way."<br>
<br>
"Thank you, Sergeant.'<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
Herphaeus found himself addressing a massive crowd, larger than any he had ever spoke to. His heart was beating very fast, and his hands were sweating beyond control, but he couldn't afford to falter, as his people now need a leader, not a nervous man standing in front of them.<br>
<br>
"To all the people of Vethenia, I'll try to be brief with my speech today, as I know that many of you are tired and are not in a state of listening to long speeches. To start this off, I am very sorry for all the violence that you had to suffer over the course of the long-awaited unification of the realm of Vethenia, but with the liberation of Sparucius, I can now announce that the realm of Vethenia is united once again ever since the rule of King Larusodes the Third. We now stand united for the first time in three centuries! No longer shall we be looked down by our neighbours as a realm ruled by feuding cities and scheming politicians, no longer shall the people be disregarded and treated no better than common serfs, and no longer shall ignorance prevail in our beloved motherland. No more! Today, I proclaim the founding of the Enlightened Kingdom of Vethenia! Starting from now, we shall be the heart of enlightenment, we shall spread enlightenment across the world, we shall be the shield of civilization against all that threatens it! The people of each city may choose their rulers, and it is from those rulers, that we select a king from. The elections shall start in three months across the nation, and I hope that you have a candidate to cast your votes for by then. For now, I shall end my speech and let you guys rest. Have a good day."<br>
<br>
Herphaeus slowly walked into the castle, finding Messaline looking at him approvingly.<br>
<br>
"My lord, you had just delivered a great speech."<br>
<br>
"Thank you, Your Ladyship. Without your aid, we wouldn't had come this far. To be able to unite the disparate realm of Vethenia was something I ddidn't even dare to think of, yet today....we finally stand united."<br>
<br>
"It is only through your hardwork that all of this was able to happen, my lord. Now, please have some rest, I can see that you're exhausted."<br>
<br>
Herphaeus nodded, and headed towards the bedrooms. With Vethenia now united, there would be more work to come, and he needs that rest.<br></li></ul>
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<b><i>It's Convergence time</i></b></div>
				
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	<div class="message-userContent lbContainer js-lbContainer " data-lb-id="post-9388609" data-lb-caption-desc="QuirkyAngel · Dec 31, 2018 at 8:53 PM">

		

		
	


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					<div class="bbWrapper"><span class="post-heading post-heading-">Unnamed Narrator</span><br>
Thus another Convergence Cycle passes in the Chronicles of Aldelor.<br>
<br>
Obeying <b>Auberon</b>, king of the fairy’s, call for new potential monarchs to be brought to the holy land of Kingmakers, the fairies <b>Lillare (<a href="/members/bone2pick.4413/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="4413" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId13">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/4/4413.jpg?1715818765" alt="Bone2pick" class="avatar-u4413-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/bone2pick.4413/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="4413" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId14">Bone2pick</a>
 )</b> , <b>Lizabeth</b> (<a href="/members/sylvio.61149/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="61149" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId15">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/61/61149.jpg?1722262987" alt="Sylvio" class="avatar-u61149-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/sylvio.61149/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="61149" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId16">Sylvio</a>
 ), <b>Lady Lake (<a href="/members/elucid.24934/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="24934" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId17">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/24/24934.jpg?1680835683" alt="Elucid" class="avatar-u24934-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/elucid.24934/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="24934" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId18">Elucid</a>
 )</b>, <b>Luxus (<a href="/members/quirkyangel.9893/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="9893" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId19">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/9/9893.jpg?1664766098" alt="QuirkyAngel" class="avatar-u9893-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/quirkyangel.9893/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="9893" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId20">QuirkyAngel</a>
 )</b>, <b>Messaline</b> (<a href="/members/nyq.24158/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="24158" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId21">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/24/24158.jpg?1488155148" alt="Nyq" class="avatar-u24158-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/nyq.24158/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="24158" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId22">Nyq</a>
 ), and <b>Astarot (<a href="/members/overconfidentmagi.19665/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="19665" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId23">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/19/19665.jpg?1488155093" alt="OverconfidentMagi" class="avatar-u19665-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/overconfidentmagi.19665/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="19665" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId24">OverconfidentMagi</a>
 )</b> all bring their respective kings to the Fairy Realm. Some of these young kings meet their would-be-fairies for the first time, displaying much confusion and fear, while others had met their fairies prior and handle the situation with much more grace. Some had doubts. Others had no choice. Regardless, each make an oath to their chosen kings (or at least secured the king’s agreement) to create a bond that would strengthen both fairy and kingdom.<br>
<br>
Following <b>Xir’ain’s</b> agreement, Astarot, a deviant from her kind, chooses to break some fairy rules in order to save his dying species from the clutches of Epsil’tal and Sel’vetal following the death of their god. She creates for them a home in Blackwell, teaching them how to hunt as well as many other things as they struggle to survive in a new and unfamiliar realm—hunted by an enemy that wishes them dead. However, a deal with the Mermaid Queen Harii as well as an encounter with the new ‘imp’ race would bring hope to the leviathans. Choosing a  king randomly from a race marked for death at least at least alleviates Astarot some of her boredom.<br>
<br>
Luxus, who chose <b>Annabelle O’Faris </b>randomly, believing his own luck, struggles to clear his queen of her doubts. He shows her where he keeps his stash of savings, saying that a queen must be wealthy and believing that she can make the best use of the funds he will provide to buy herself queenship.  <br>
<br>
 In contrast to the other two, Messaline, who chose <b>Herphaeus </b>for his love of knowledge, guides her new king to building his kingdom from scratch as he has no wealth or royal blood to his name. With her help, he gathers some villagers together to form a city state of his own in <b>Vethenia.</b> However, they aren’t without difficulties as enemies surround them from all sides.<br>
<br>
While new kingdoms struggle to form, old kingdoms also progress. In the land of the dead, <b>Arran’ak (<a href="/members/karcen.15381/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="15381" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId25">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/15/15381.jpg?1535015811" alt="Karcen" class="avatar-u15381-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/karcen.15381/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="15381" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId26">Karcen</a>
 )</b>, necromancers raise the deceased and trade with nearby gorgons. <b>The Jade Empress</b> (<a href="/members/mrthe.38214/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="38214" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId27">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/38/38214.jpg?1517334467" alt="MrThe" class="avatar-u38214-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/mrthe.38214/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="38214" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId28">MrThe</a>
 )builds the Grand Cathedral of Knowledge. <b>The Sacred Grove</b> (<a href="/members/mirgris.33899/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="33899" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId29">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/33/33899.jpg?1488155264" alt="Mirgris" class="avatar-u33899-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/mirgris.33899/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="33899" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId30">Mirgris</a>
 )fortify their defenses as their king slumbers. Love is also in the air with the awakening of the Dawn Queen and treefolk celebrating their holiday of match-making.<br>
<br>
<b>King Kul’tir</b>, knowing about the new kings and wanting further diplomatic relationships, has his people research airships and sends notices world-wide to reveal that his dead are available to for hire. It is Vethenia that responds positively. Having agreed to assist Direnzzes against Littocenes in exchange for guns and engineers, the assistance of the dead greatly helps in this endeavor. However, allying with the dead brings its own troubles as Herphaeus’s territory faced off against enemy  after enemy of city states who opposed his alliance with the Arran’ak’s undead. Nonetheless, with the help of Arran’ak’s dead army, the unification of Vethenia was achieved.<br>
<br>
10 years later the Cantobresian Institute of Natural Sciences is built.<br>
<br>
Many stories remain untold, however to document all in a single chapter is an impossible goal. Yet many questions are still unanswered. What sort of changes will the new kings bring to Aldelor? Will world peace be achieved? Will Annabelle become a good queen? What is Astarot planning? Stay tuned for the next chapter in the Chronicles of Aldelor to find out (maybe).<br>
<div style="text-align: center">*cues the ending theme*<br>
<span data-s9e-mediaembed="youtube"><span><span style="background:url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/iU_HbRtZSbI/hqdefault.jpg) 50% 50% / cover" data-s9e-mediaembed-iframe="[&quot;allowfullscreen&quot;,&quot;&quot;,&quot;scrolling&quot;,&quot;no&quot;,&quot;style&quot;,&quot;background:url(https:\/\/i.ytimg.com\/vi\/iU_HbRtZSbI\/hqdefault.jpg) 50% 50% \/ cover&quot;,&quot;src&quot;,&quot;https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/iU_HbRtZSbI&quot;]"></span></span></span>​</div><br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<span class="post-heading post-heading-">GM Message</span><div style="text-align: center"><br>
<b>Congratulations for the successful completion of the first arc!</b><br>

		
		
	


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<br>
<b> Might not seem like such a big achievement with only 25 posts, but you have no idea how many rps struggle to even get through an arc let alone finish one. Awesome job guys and thank you from the bottom of my heart! Some of you might not be staying, but regardless your post does help to bring down the count and adds to Aldelor's history.  For the completion of an arc, every player that has made at least one post gets <span style="color: rgb(65, 168, 95)">10 free stat points</span> to distribute as they please for the second one (obviously your kingdom had to have done something within 10 years even if they didn’t take center stage).<br>
<br>
The end of a 10 year arc means the cs is open for revamping. New pictures can be added. New powers. Did your character grow? Did their appearance change? Is there a new king now? Did your fairy learn some new tricks with the growth of the kingdom? Did your king learn something during these 10 years? Feel free to add all that to their bio and more for in preparation for the second arc!  <br>
<br>
In addition, I’ve decided to give an award to the MVP of each arc for kingdoms that created the best story for the readers to read. A kingdom doesn’t just grow on achievements, but also adversity, struggles, and experiences. Those willing to rp out the struggles and dramas of their nations deserve points just as much as the ones that try to earn them. And I don’t mean just saying it happened, but showing it happened. That’s what people like to read after all. So, without further ado, <span style="color: rgb(65, 168, 95)">10 additional stat points</span> are awarded to</b><br>
<br>


<div class="bbCodeSpoiler">
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		<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">MVP</span></span>
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			<div class="bbCodeBlock-content"><div style="text-align: center"><b><span style="font-size: 22px">LEVI'ANTH</span></b>​</div><br>
 <a href="/members/overconfidentmagi.19665/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="19665" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId32">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/19/19665.jpg?1488155093" alt="OverconfidentMagi" class="avatar-u19665-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/overconfidentmagi.19665/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="19665" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId33">OverconfidentMagi</a>
 <br>
You made me love Astarot and Xir’ain. Their interactions were a joy to read and the npcs are well-developed and added a lot to Aldelor’s lore regarding the sea. I’m looking forward to where Levi’anth will go from here.</div>
		</div>
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</div><br>
<b>But there were some close contenders as well, which will get <span style="color: rgb(65, 168, 95)">5 points</span> each. Though they didn't get the mvp award they either made some really good posts or help promote drama in some way. </b><br>
<br>


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		<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Honorable mentions</span></span>
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			<div class="bbCodeBlock-content"><div style="text-align: center"><b><span style="font-size: 22px">Vethenia</span></b>​</div><a href="/members/nyq.24158/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="24158" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId35">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/24/24158.jpg?1488155148" alt="Nyq" class="avatar-u24158-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/nyq.24158/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="24158" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId36">Nyq</a>
 <br>
Herphaeus’s struggles were nice and the unification of Vethnia was well written. Can’t wait to see which nation will send their children to his university in the next arc^^<br>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-size: 22px"><b>Arran'ak</b></span>​</div><a href="/members/karcen.15381/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="15381" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId37">
			<img src="/data/avatars/s/15/15381.jpg?1535015811" alt="Karcen" class="avatar-u15381-s" width="48" height="48" loading="lazy"> 
		</a> <a href="/members/karcen.15381/" class="username " dir="auto" data-user-id="15381" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId38">Karcen</a>
 <br>
Still didn’t get to see as much of Azelea as much as I’d hoped, but this for character interactions and bringing drama. Vethenia’s unification wouldn’t be as good without the undead.</div>
		</div>
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<b>And so now ya'll have to wait until I start the next arc. Here's a bit of a preview while you wait^^</b><br>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span data-s9e-mediaembed="youtube"><span><span style="background:url(https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Tmb7YIKqLeM/hqdefault.jpg) 50% 50% / cover" data-s9e-mediaembed-iframe="[&quot;allowfullscreen&quot;,&quot;&quot;,&quot;scrolling&quot;,&quot;no&quot;,&quot;style&quot;,&quot;background:url(https:\/\/i.ytimg.com\/vi\/Tmb7YIKqLeM\/hqdefault.jpg) 50% 50% \/ cover&quot;,&quot;src&quot;,&quot;https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/Tmb7YIKqLeM&quot;]"></span></span></span>​</div></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><span class="post-heading post-heading-">Act 2: The First Convergence</span><br>
<div style="text-align: center"><b>TROTOPOLIS <br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle.  </b>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 4<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 2<br>
Technological Advancements: 2<br>
Citizen Happiness: 3<br>
</div>Queen Annabelle of Trotopolis stood in her chambers, feet on a stool, while her handmaids helped her get ready for the Convergence of Kings. Brushing her hair. Fixing her dress. Whoever said beauty was easy lied. Annabelle had spent hours being manhandled by her personal ladies, trying on exotic perfumes and swapping from one piece of jewelry to the next. The girls couldn’t seem to agree on what suited her the best. Not that it mattered in the long run. Regardless of little details, the mirror before her showed a woman she would’ve hardly recognized when she was younger.<br>
<span class="float-right">
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/1547424899007-png.526252/" target="_blank"><img src="https://www.rpnation.com/data/attachments/463/463214-c8dbc91134cbf747390891e9bdf3094b.jpg" class="bbImage " style="" alt="1547424899007.png" title="1547424899007.png" width="83" height="100" loading="lazy"></a>
</span><br>
It was strange how quickly 10 years had flown by. She didn’t think herself capable of creating a nation at first. Yet, here she was…twenty five years old and the leader of her own people. The one everyone looked to when they had problems.<br>
<br>
Truthfully, there were others much more suited to the task than she. Trotilhaus’een was wiser and had more knowledge. Same with Pyros and Rowan. Jerick was strong. Ligora was skilled enough to build a fortress. All she did was gather them together—people who could help to build her kingdom of Trotopolis.<br>
<br>
Yet they all looked to her for the final decisions.<br>
<br>
These people, who she deeply respected, put their faith in her—a little girl who didn’t know what she was doing most of the time.<br>
<br>
Annabelle didn’t want to let them down.<br>
<br>
Trotopolis might’ve been a new kingdom. She might not be a very experienced queen. But, even so, it was her that represented her nation in the upcoming gathering of kings. Therefore she had no intention of making a fool of herself or letting another nation’s ruler walk over her.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“What should I expect when I get there?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Oh…lots of showboating, royals arguing with each other about how the world should be run, subtle snubs at each other, you know—everything you’d expect from a gathering of the world’s leaders~”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle turned to glance at Luxus who was scribbling something down on his ledger. Taking account the cost of the dress and their remaining budget, no doubt. He’d become more of a miser ever since the kingdom was founded. <span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“That...doesn’t sound much fun.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“I imagine not. But the Convergence of Kings is a long-held tradition and one of the reasons that this world has maintained relative peace for so long. I’d go as far as to say it’s one of the core cogs that keeps this world running smoothly. If kings and queens do not meet to discuss their differences there would be much more turmoil. The world wouldn’t be as evolved as it is now.  Racial differences would incite war. Fairies would hurt one another. It’s something we fairies see all the time…and why His Majesty Auberon, calls for the convergence every 10 years. ”</span><br>
<br>
As a peasant in Candor, Annabelle hadn’t even known about the of Covergence of Kings, let alone the existence of the fairy realm. Or the fairy that lived in Candor. Such were the secrets of the Candor royal family—or so she’d been told. Every realm operated a little bit differently. Some fairies didn’t like to appear before humans. However, since becoming a ruler of her very own kingdom, she’d become much more exposed to the workings of the world. Races beyond the ones she’d known. Backdoor deals and alliances between fellow rulers. It was a lot to take in.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“That, or Auberon just wants to check up on us.”</span> Luxus concluded. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“I can’t claim to read the mind of one so old and wise as he.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“Lord Auberon must care a lot about the fairies.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“That’s how I like to see it at is at well.”</span><br>
<br>
An odd answer. <span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“Do you think the king of Vethenia will be there? I want to know how Trey’s doing.”</span><br>
<br>
The island she’d chosen to build her kingdom wasn’t too far from Vethenia so she’d heard news of the unification. However, she had too busy with her own kingdom to pay it much mind. Her brother seemed to take an interest though—young scholar that he was. When the Cantobresian Institute of Natural Sciences was recently built, opened up for all races, he begged her to let him attend. She missed him already…annoying little know-it-all though he was.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Probably.  Messaline is brilliant, but she isn’t the type to break a long held tradition. Astarot though? I’d be surprised if she even shows up. Haven’t heard from her since the calling of kings.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“Astarot?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Black, shifty thing. She doesn’t like to stay in one form for very long, but you should’ve seen her in the day you were brought to the fairy realm 10 years ago. She was in the throne room. </span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“You fairies have good memories, don’t you.”</span> Annabelle giggled.<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “That’s why you always seem to remember how much people owe you.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“You humans just have short memory,”</span> Luxus retorted. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“I—,”</span><br>
<br>
There was knock on her chamber doors. It was followed by a slight creak as the double doors opened, revealing a handsome man with a baby dragon on his shoulder.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(65, 168, 95)">“Sorry to interrupt, your Highness. Minister Luxus,”</span> Jerick, the general of her Land army, nodded at both of them. He leaned against the entrance to her chambers, an amused smile on his lips .<span style="color: rgb(65, 168, 95)"> “But Prince Salim and the fairy, Tirius, have arrived.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“Not King Aedeus?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(65, 168, 95)">“Aedeus has fallen ill and is bedridden, or so I hear, and the first prince is busy taking up his new responsibilities to the kingdom. That leaves just Prince Salim to attend this colloquy of kings with you. He assures me he’s been to convergences before and that he’ll do whatever he can to keep you safe.  ”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Lucky you~”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“It’s not like that!” </span>Annabelle flushed.<br>
<br>
Jerick chuckled. <span style="color: rgb(65, 168, 95)">“Try not to make Trotopolis look bad, My Queen. We’ll hold a banquet when you and Minister Luxus return. The cooks are already brewing up a feast from what I saw when I passed  the kitchen.”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle rolled her eyes.<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “Another excuse to throw a party no doubt.”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(65, 168, 95)">“No doubt.”</span><br>
<br>
Still, Annabelle smiled. Regardless of whether her people partied in celebration of Trotopolis’s first representation in the Convergence of Kings or because they simply liked to party, Annabelle had grown fond of them and they of her. It was a far cry from when she started out.<br>
<br>
Stepping down from the stool, Annabelle thanked the two handmaids before nodding at Luxus. It was time to go.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<div style="text-align: center"><b>THE FAIRY REALM<br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle</b>​</div><br>
The masked man watched as, one by one, the fairies and kings made their appearance in the Fairy Realm. For some, it was the land where their journey of kingship began. For others, it was simply a custom. An age-old tradition set forth by their forefathers. Regardless, Auberon would’ve sent a mental invitation to every fairy, showing them an image of where the next gathering would be held and expected arrival time.<br>
<br>
The Elysian Garden.<br>
<br>
<div style="text-align: center"><div class="bbImageWrapper  js-lbImage" title="landscape-backdrops-17-gs025c.jpg" data-src="/proxy.php?image=http%3A%2F%2Fmxtrianz.me%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2017%2F04%2Flandscape-backdrops-17-gs025c.jpg&amp;hash=49f6e7f6b4e99ebe12bb75b7ee35c287" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-single-image="1">
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	</div></div><br>
An expansive field with many colored flowers, trees, and crystal clear water. Climbing up the stone steps they would encounter a clearing surrounded by stone pillars and, at the center of the clearing, a simple large round table for every nation’s representative to sit and discuss if they so desire.<br>
<br>
Truthfully, the setting seemed more suiting for a tea party than a grand meeting of the world’s leaders in his mind, though he wasn’t about to question Auberon’s tastes any time soon.<br>
<br>
<span class="float-left">
<div class="bbImageWrapper  js-lbImage" title="1d1f7da6e9197e24b63adfe73e374cf6--manga-boy-anime-art.jpg" data-src="/proxy.php?image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.pinimg.com%2F236x%2F1d%2F1f%2F7d%2F1d1f7da6e9197e24b63adfe73e374cf6--manga-boy-anime-art.jpg&amp;hash=e0507d3d7194b6814a734b41e16c44a0" data-lb-sidebar-href="" data-lb-caption-extra-html="" data-single-image="1">
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</span>The masked man waited for the chatter to drop to a relatively moderate level before speaking.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(41, 105, 176)">“Due to some unexpected circumstances, Fairy King Auberon will not be able to attend today’s gathering. Therefore I’ll be acting in his place as the mediator for this cycle’s convergence. Otherwise the rules remain the same as always. One, as all fairies are equal in the eyes of his Highness Auberon, all nations, large or small, are equal within the Fairy Realm. Two, no violence  shall be permitted in the sacred realm of kingmakers. Disputes ought be handled in a reasonable manner or settled outside the realm. Three, any fairy or fairy property encountered while in this realm should be treated with respect. Most fairies have been warned to keep out of the garden for the duration of the convergence, but you might still find a couple fluttering about here and there.”</span><br>
<br>
A snap of his fingers caused a parchment to appear out of thin air. A flick of his wrist and the parchment attached itself onto one of the surrounding columns. <span style="color: rgb(41, 105, 176)">“The rules will be posted for those that can’t remember. Those that can’t read basic Aldelorian script will have to rely on their fairy’s guidance. That said,” </span>The masked man brought his right hand to his heart and gave a deep bow.<span style="color: rgb(41, 105, 176)"> “Welcome, Kings and Queens of Aldelor, to the 501st Convergence of Kings.”</span><br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b>GM Message: </b>And so we begin again! For those who want to attend, teleport your character in the fairy realm (preferablely where the meeting takes place), but I’m not a stickler if you’ve got your own plans. Those that don’t want to attend can make a post doing whatever. However, I will be more of a stickler for post requirements this time around:<br>
<br>
<ul>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul">Nation name</li>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul">Nation stats</li>
<li data-xf-list-type="ul">Date. This will make it easier for me to organize when it comes to summarizing and easier for players that want to jump into a particular scene to do so</li>
</ul>All of this is required for the post to count, so please don’t forget. As always, the dice will determine how long this arc lasts. <s>I’ll reroll if the number is too little in my mind.</s><br>
<br>
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<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Shendorah</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><b><span style="font-size: 22px">Trade City of Landover</span></b></span>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
<i><b>Stonemoor's Prosperity</b></i><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 5<br>
<br>
<i>Day 1, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>The commoners that live on the northern shores of Vethenia look out across the waves with fear in their hearts. For there, beyond the Azure Sea, lies the mega-island of Shendorah. An inhospitable place riddled with high mountains and stagnant bogs, with seldom few valleys between. The weather is often wet with near continuous rainfall throughout the year, its vast timber forests that grow up in the peaks some of its only natural bounty. The beasts that live in the wilds have adapted to this harsh land and thrive off its limited resources. Those that live in the 'civilized' places also learned to adapt, but in a much more violent manner. Raiders and pirates stalk the Azure Sea in force, ready to strike any unsuspecting ship or village they come across. The Shendorans come quickly, take what they will, and leave nothing but blood and smoke in their wake.<br>
<br>
However some enclaves of raiders eventually managed to band together under a common cause. They began to pool their ill-gotten gains, and from this were able to build a free city for their own use. Tucked away in a small cove on Shendorah's western shores is Landover, a trade city of great renown and ill repute. Merchant ships from this unseemly port travel all across Aldelor, often returning with their holds overflowing with riches and exotic goods. Over time their wealth and influence grew, and now people throughout the world speak of its dark wharfs and smoky parlors lined with secret wonders. A city of wealth, mystery, and murder, for a power struggle looms over the city as various group vie for more control and more profit. In fact the infighting is so prolific that a high-profile murder occurs almost every day, about as often as the rains come through.<br>
<br>
And it was today that those rains had come in force, gifting the perfect cover for dark deeds of all sorts. Water fell from the sky in torrents, battering against a myriad of shanties floating among a maze of docks and wharfs. Where the docks met the land were a series of naturally formed caverns, and inside were dozens of buildings and establishments built with <i>reasonable</i> regard for structural integrity. Above the caverns were shelves hewn into the stone by tradesmen and slaves alike, upon which sat the true seats of power. The wealthiest and most powerful of Landover lived in these structures, supported by stone and wooden stilts wedged into the rock below. A bolt of lightning pierces the sky, just barely illuminating a tiny figure scampering across the treacherous roofs.<br>
<br>
The figure is small, barely a few feet tall, and wrapped in a blue-gray cloak. The thick material serves to both keep off the rain and mask the figure's appearance. Nimbly it skipped and jumped from roof to roof, showing inhuman finesse at this impossible task. Any other creature would have fallen to their death on the slick, sheer wooden planks, but the figure pressed on completely unhindered. It was slowly making its way down, following a unique path that seemed erratic but was steadily bringing the figure down towards the docks. Eventually it hopped off the last ledge, sliding down the last few feet of stone and landing nimbly on an empty stretch of dock. Without missing a beat it began to walk quickly towards its destination, as if it were simply another passerby trying to get out of the rain. It wound its way down docks and around soaking shacks until it came to a small ship, just large enough to house a crew of six or so. The word <i>Fortuna</i> was carved into the wood on its nameplate, carefully nailed in place on the stern. It wasn't a grand ship, but it was well made and sturdy. And that suited its owner just fine.<br>
<br>
Without a sound the figure stepped onto the gangplank and made its way to the stern cabin, opening the door and ducking inside out of the rain. Only when the door was fully closed did the figure relax, hunching slightly and letting out a long sigh of relief. The figure lifted its hands to inspect them, 'tsk'ing unapprovingly at the flecks of blood still stuck to its fur. The target had bled more than he'd expected, that last turn in his sleep had put the knife straight into the artery instead of the windpipe. Of course the rolls of fat had made finding his mark difficult regardless. The figure reached up and unclasped the cloak's pin holding it in place, dragging it off his body in one smooth motion.<br>
<br>
The figure beneath the cloak was a ratkin, essentially a large rat that stood upright and was capable of speech. But this one was unique for its fur was white as snow and its eyes were red like milky rubies. It wore little in clothing beyond a simple covering of its nether regions and a few leather belts that held various tools and pouches. The ratkin placed the cloak over the back of a chair made especially for a being of his size, and then went to a nearby washbasin to clean the evidence off his paws. The clear water turned pink as the blood came off, and the ratkin was left to think about the events that transpired.<br>
<br>
His entry was as perfect as he could've hoped. The guards were easy enough to bypass once he'd distracted them. The old coin toss trick was still just the thing to distract these greedy mercenary types. Once inside it was a simple matter of moving unseen towards the kitchens, where the secret passage connected to the target's bedchambers. It seemed the fat pig couldn't go a day without his precious midnight snack. Once inside he simply knocked over a stew pot to distract the cooks and slipped inside the larder, pulling on the empty sausage hook just like his contact said. The shelves mechanically opened revealing the stone staircase behind. A few flights later and he was inside the bedchamber, where his target was sound asleep in his garish four post bed. It was just that damn neck that had ruined his night. He prided himself on quick, clean kills. But the artery wasn't as quick a death as he needed, and when the target awoke he had to quickly grab one of his pillows and smother the pig until he stopped squirming. Messy, unprofessional. His reputation would suffer for it, but the job was done in the end. Another warlord lay dead in his bed, and it was at the hands of Milkweed, the most feared rat in the city.<br>
<br>
Milkweed sighed as he shook his paws dry, because an uncomfortable realization had set in once again. None of this mattered. Soon enough another warlord would take this one's place, and the cycle would continue. He took the seat that held his cloak and rested his head on the desk in front of it. These thoughts had been plaguing him for months now. It seemed that he had reached the peak of his skills, and that he had a permanent place of employment here among some of Aldelor's dirtiest, foulest beings. A killer of killers, and that's all he could ever be. Even if he decided to move on to grander cities he'd wind up doing the same work. He'd trained in nothing else his entire life, the shadows were all he knew.<br>
<br>
Milkweed looked out the porthole at the various lights dancing on the water. People of all sorts gathered at this port, but most were of the less than reputable sort. And yet this was a city, fully and truly in every sense of the word. A city built on lies, deceit and murder, but a city all the same. A bunch of ragtag pirates and coastal raiders turned this barren cove into a hub of activity and life. Milkweed began to think about his own people, about how their own ways were not so far off from these dregs, and how even they could not organize themselves for more than a decade. The host of clans and disjointed groups throughout Aldelor was testament to the ratkin's failures, and Milkweed couldn't help but wonder. Why? Why couldn't they? If a bunch of stupid, greedy warlords could build something like this, why couldn't they do the same? It was a foolish dream, of course. There were a mountain of problems that would keep the ratkin from forming a true nation of their own. Prejudice, hatred, fear, physical limitations, the capital needed, the space required. All of it seemed like an impossible, insurmountable chasm that his tiny body was too small to leap.<br>
<br>
...But maybe...<br>
<br>
At that moment a bright flash of light erupted inside the cabin, blinding Milkweed and forcing him to reactively dive beneath the desk. His knife was already in his paw and pointed out in front of him as an effort to put something between him and the unknown. His eyes burned but his lungs were steady, his years of training would dare not let him be discovered when he was in duress. But as the spots began to fade from his vision Milkweed became increasingly aware of a... <i>calming </i>force within the room. Magic no doubt, he'd felt its touch before and this was almost certainly a spell of some kind. But it didn't feel forced or fabricated. He couldn't quite say why but this force felt... natural, even. Like a calm breeze on a summer day.<br>
<br>
Milkweed looked out from under the table and saw a pair of pale, dainty legs standing barefoot on his deck. At least, he thought the figure was standing. But her form was so light and precise that it almost looked like she was floating above the wooden boards. Those legs went up until they were covered by a thick cloak of black and white feathers, and somehow Milkweed knew they would feel softer than any silk of this world. The cloak continued, hiding the being's arms until it revealed a perfectly porcelain face, covered only by a lace blindfold. The woman had long ears like an elf, and antlers of smoked glass growing from beneath her long, onyx hair. The woman was smiling quietly, looking directly at where Milkweed was hiding beneath his desk.<br>
<br>
Nothing about this made sense. Milkweed wasn't anyone important enough to warrant this kind of attention. Sure he was a high profile killer, but this was something straight out of a fairy tale. Only kings and emperors were given this kind of audience, not lowly rats like himself. But she continued to stare at him despite her eyes being hidden behind the lace. And Milkweed felt... oddly right about the whole thing. He couldn't explain it, and it was so far outside of his normal means that it unnerved him. He never went with his gut feelings if he could help it, he always made sure to find more information before moving on a decision. But this was different, orders of magnitude different than what he was used to. And he couldn't fight this feeling of... <i>purpose </i>that was flooding through him.<br>
<br>
Silently Milkweed sheathed his knife and scurried out from under the desk. He stood up to his full height of two feet and looked up at the ethereal woman, who stood no more than a foot taller than he. She reached out an ivory hand from beneath her cloak, and without a second thought Milkweed grasped it in his paw.<br>
<br>
Another flash of light, and then they were gone.<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444801" style="display: none;"><br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">The Fairy Realm</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><b><span style="font-size: 22px">Elysian Gardens</span></b></span>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
<i><b>Stonemoor's Prosperity</b></i><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 5<br>
<br>
<i>Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>Milkweed blinked as he took in his new surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the overpowering scent of flowers and pollen. It was so intense that he couldn't help but sneeze, forcing his eyes to close out the vibrant array of colors they had been assailed with. He brushed his nose with the back of his paw to look out at his surroundings, and was struck dumb by what he saw. Never in his life had he seen anything so beautiful, so unearthly, so colorful. He honestly didn't think that colors like this even existed. The water was clear as glass, the trees were large and lush with green, and the sun hung in the air at the perfect angle to give off that evening amber light. Milkweed was afraid to move for fear of crushing any of these beautiful flowers he was surrounded by, but he was startled when he heard a noise beside him. He looked, and saw that it was the woman from before. And she was quietly giggling at him. He might have been upset if her laughter didn't sound like silvered bells, but it too had a calming effect on him. She silently motioned forward towards a clearing before walking in the same direction. Even her steps gave the impression that she was floating rather than walking. Still slightly mesmerized Milkweed followed her, not knowing where he was or what he was about to witness.<br>
<br>
He got his answer not long afterwards as a table of all things came into view. And then figures surrounding the table began to take shape as well, and they were all finely dressed figures at that. In fact looking at their dress Milkweed easily guessed that they were all royalty of sorts, or at the very least nobility with access to great wealth. Milkweed hurriedly looked at himself and was surprised to see he was wearing his cloak, completely cleaned and partially fluffed from the feel of it. The calming woman looked back at him and gave him a quick nod, confirming Milkweed's suspicions that she was the one responsible. '<i>Well, at least I'm not naked', </i>he thought to himself as they continued towards the table.<br>
<br>
As they approached the table Milkweed threw up his hood out of habit, but also out of deference to the gathered nobility. He didn't recognize any faces, but the names and words being thrown about were from some very high ranking places throughout the world. As he pondered this the woman directed him towards am elaborate chair, somehow exactly his size, which he took with a nod. The people gathered were now starting to show a surprised interest in him, which Milkweed expected. From what he could tell he might be the only non-humanoid in this entire gathering. But what really surprised him was the amount of attention his guide was receiving. The nobility were impressed with her appearance and form, but their retainers seemed to be taking an unhealthy interest in her reasons for being here. Clearly they were acquainted, and as Milkweed was trying to figure out their relation to her he saw another two just <i>pop </i>into existence on the other side of the table.<br>
<br>
Magic? Beautiful gardens? Mystical creatures in different forms? A gathering of nobility? This... This was all sounding like a very specific fairy tale. An old one often told by the drunk and hopeless throughout Aldelor.<br>
<br>
And just as the masked man took his place at the head of the table did Milkweed realize where he was. And moreover, he realized <i>who</i> he was. His guide was now his Fairy, and he was her chosen King.<br>
<br>
The realization floored Milkweed, planting him to his spot and making him oblivious to masked man's words. It was only when he felt a perfectly gentle hand on his shoulder that looked up into his fairy's face. She looked down at him in a comforting manner, and Milkweed accepted that he was not here on a whim. He was chosen for a reason, and he would learn why eventually. He'd heard the others call her 'Fade', and so he decided that he would too.<br>
<br>
When the masked man finished his speech the seated nobility clapped their hands in respect and began to talk among themselves. Immediately topics began to be brought up of trade agreements, border disputes and other such manners of state. Milkweed felt a little lost in all of this until he felt that same gentle hand on his shoulder. Fade quietly pointed to her ear, then nodded and looked around the table at the gathered nobility. Milkweed understood, and nodded in return. He would do what he did best when he didn't know enough.<br>
<br>
He would wait and listen, and learn what he could.<br></li></ul>
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<b><i>73 posts until the end of the arc.</i></b></div>
				
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<center><ol class="listInline listInline--customField" data-field="roleplaytype"><li><svg class="svg-inline--fa fa-user rptypeonexone" aria-labelledby="svg-inline--fa-title-pyn2emacd1Ux" data-prefix="fas" data-icon="user" role="img" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" viewBox="0 0 448 512" data-fa-i2svg=""><title id="svg-inline--fa-title-pyn2emacd1Ux">One on One</title><path fill="currentColor" d="M224 256A128 128 0 1 0 224 0a128 128 0 1 0 0 256zm-45.7 48C79.8 304 0 383.8 0 482.3C0 498.7 13.3 512 29.7 512l388.6 0c16.4 0 29.7-13.3 29.7-29.7C448 383.8 368.2 304 269.7 304l-91.4 0z"></path></svg><!-- <i class="fa-solid fa-user rptypeonexone" title="One on One"></i> --></li><li><svg class="svg-inline--fa fa-user-group-crown rptypegroup" aria-labelledby="svg-inline--fa-title-YLXxMEhgZFCh" data-prefix="fas" data-icon="user-group-crown" role="img" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" viewBox="0 0 640 512" data-fa-i2svg=""><title id="svg-inline--fa-title-YLXxMEhgZFCh">Group</title><path fill="currentColor" d="M144 144l0-16 160 0 0 16c0 44.2-35.8 80-80 80s-80-35.8-80-80zm-.1-124.9c-.3-.2-.6-.4-.8-.6L140 16 124.4 3.5C121.5 1.2 118 0 114.4 0L112 0c-8.8 0-16 7.2-16 16l0 23 0 3.2c0 0 0 .1 0 .1L96 144c0 70.7 57.3 128 128 128s128-57.3 128-128l0-101.7c0 0 0-.1 0-.1l0-3.2 0-23c0-8.8-7.2-16-16-16l-2.4 0c-3.6 0-7.2 1.2-10 3.5L308 16l-3 2.4c-.3 .2-.6 .4-.8 .6l-.1 .1c-10.2 7.5-23.8 8.3-34.9 2L238.9 4c-4.6-2.6-9.7-4-14.9-4s-10.4 1.4-14.9 4L178.9 21.2c-11 6.3-24.7 5.5-34.9-2l-.1-.1zM168 304C75.2 304 0 379.2 0 472l0 8c0 17.7 14.3 32 32 32l384 0c17.7 0 32-14.3 32-32l0-8c0-92.8-75.2-168-168-168l-112 0zm264-48c61.9 0 112-50.1 112-112s-50.1-112-112-112c-17.2 0-33.5 3.9-48 10.8L384 144c0 5.4-.3 10.7-.8 16c-2.4 24.3-10.3 47.1-22.4 67c-.5 .8-1 1.6-1.4 2.3C379 245.9 404.3 256 432 256zm39.4 256l137.8 0c17 0 30.7-13.8 30.7-30.7C640 392.2 567.8 320 478.7 320l-61.4 0c-2.4 0-4.8 .1-7.1 .2C452.9 356.8 480 411.3 480 472l0 8c0 11.7-3.1 22.6-8.6 32z"></path></svg><!-- <i class="fa-solid fa-user-group-crown rptypegroup" title="Group"></i> --></li><li><svg class="svg-inline--fa fa-flag rptypenationbuilding" aria-labelledby="svg-inline--fa-title-sREsEPn6x3kt" data-prefix="fas" data-icon="flag" role="img" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" viewBox="0 0 448 512" data-fa-i2svg=""><title id="svg-inline--fa-title-sREsEPn6x3kt">Nation Building</title><path fill="currentColor" d="M64 32C64 14.3 49.7 0 32 0S0 14.3 0 32L0 64 0 368 0 480c0 17.7 14.3 32 32 32s32-14.3 32-32l0-128 64.3-16.1c41.1-10.3 84.6-5.5 122.5 13.4c44.2 22.1 95.5 24.8 141.7 7.4l34.7-13c12.5-4.7 20.8-16.6 20.8-30l0-247.7c0-23-24.2-38-44.8-27.7l-9.6 4.8c-46.3 23.2-100.8 23.2-147.1 0c-35.1-17.6-75.4-22-113.5-12.5L64 48l0-16z"></path></svg><!-- <i class="fa-solid fa-flag rptypenationbuilding" title="Nation Building"></i> --></li></ol></center>
			
		
	
		
	

						
							

	

						
					
				
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	<div class="message-userContent lbContainer js-lbContainer " data-lb-id="post-9429841" data-lb-caption-desc="OverconfidentMagi · Jan 15, 2019 at 4:40 PM">

		

		
	


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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Isle of Monsters</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 26px">L E V I ' A N T H</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Blackwell</span></span>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 11<br>
Military Might: 16.5<br>
Technological Advancements: 3<br>
Citizen Happiness: 7<br>
<br>
<i>Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>A black fairy dropped through the large round mirror within her private chambers, and she then moved to the side to be clear of the two large leviathan that fell through following her. Xir'ain, having knowledge of where Astarot would bring them, shifted into his four-legged shape to land beside the pool of water below the hanging mirror. Ore'seur simply landed with a splash inside the pool, only changing his own shape after he'd dragged himself out of the water. He apologized to his king, whom had been drenched by the other leviathan's landing, yet his king payed him no heed. Xir'ain was staring back up at the mirror, or rather he was staring up at the fairy standing on the wall perpendicular to the floor that was staring at herself in that mirror.<br>
<br>
Astarot had changed her size to better view herself, growing from a small wisp into a human child and then a tall womanly figure. The shifting darkness that surrounded her dropped away, revealing pale smooth skin beneath. But far from revealing any great secret, the form revealed was that of a beautiful mermaid. "Does this shape please you?" Astarot spoke with Enly'air's voice, but laughed with her own.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain flicked his tail and turned to walk out of the room, shifting into his natural serpentine shape on the way out. Ore'seur, after a moment of conflict over following his king or staying, lay down just inside the doorway with his head raised to watch what the fairy did.<br>
<br>
Astarot did not care if the leviathan wished to see. Having no shame was a lesser of her many virtues, and she certainly would not take up shame for a plagiarized body. Still, this was her first time back in the fairy realm since claiming Xir'ain to be her king - bringing the leviathan through notwithstanding - and she felt the need to indulge herself. First she got rid of the ridiculous fish tail and replaced it with the long tail of a leviathan, and when that still didn't feel quite right she got rid of that as well, leaving her lower half little more than a vague smoky column. She would come back to that, probably. Astarot ran her fingers through Enly'air's long azure hair and dyed the strands to black, then she froze it so that each individual strand was its own icicle and every motion came with the quiet music of Winter. As much as she did enjoy the contrast between the pitch black and the paleness of the mermaid's skin, it was not her, so she blackened her skin as well, leaving only the mermaid's eyes and lips with their violet color. She drew a line above her breast where black water appeared and poured down over her skin, ignoring gravity to fall over where her legs would be and pool onto the cold stones of the wall. The imagined water simply vanished once it began to slide away from her. That took care of what she would wear, and it got her out of having to decide what to do with her lower body. But no, this was still far too plain. She formed black flames in her palm and ran one arm through it, and then the other, so that she wore the lightless fire as elbow length gloves. It still wasn't perfect. Now even her own attention was pulled away from her face towards what she wore. It was too visually distracting. Rather than adopt anything more subtle, Astarot found a solution in escalation.<br>
<br>
It had been many years since she had donned her own wings, even in private. As she was one of the many fairy that simply used magic to move through the air - and her shapeshifting let her use any shape of wing if she did wish to fly - she'd long ago decided that her own wings lacked purpose. But decoration was a pointless purpose, so it felt right when she used the shape of her wings as a black mask that hid her eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror and found this new shape beautiful.<br>
<br>
Ore'seur flicked his tail towards the fairy once she landed on the edge of the pool, a motion that she had learned to mean that he was thinking of asking a question. When she asked him what it was, he got up and stepped closer to inspect her new shape. "You looked like that siren," he said. "How?"<br>
<br>
Astarot ran her hand over the leviathan's smooth back as he circled around her. "It is the same as becoming any other shape," she answered him.<br>
<br>
"You change shape yes, but you became the siren."<br>
<br>
"Of course I did. I took her shape as my own." Astrot did not understand the question this leviathan was asking.<br>
<br>
Ore'seur flicked his tail and thought of a way to ask that was better. "The land form," he spoke of the four-legged shape that Xir'ain had taken from the king of beasts. "I have seen the younger ones of the prey the king took that shape from. The shape we take is similar to them, but it is different. We take the shape, but we do not become one of them. Not how you became the siren. Explain why this is."<br>
<br>
Astarot finally understood what this most curious leviathan wished to know. "Why do you not grow hair and pointed ears when you take the shape of a panther?"<br>
<br>
"Yes."<br>
<br>
"It is because the shape of a panther is not what I gave Xir'ain when he asked. He had just killed the most dangerous of its kind. Why would I weaken my own king? What I gave him was the shape of himself plus what might be useful taken from the dead panther: powerful limbs and claws, balance and speed. Things that make moving and hunting outside of the water easier. But yes, if I had desired to, I could have given Xir'ain the complete shape of the dead panther, made him a perfect copy of it."<br>
<br>
Astarot did not say then the other reason for not giving her king the perfect shape of the king of beasts when he had asked for it. That at a fundamental level, everything, object or living soul, had a sense of identity that knew its own shape. She had turned her king into himself with legs and certain other features, but he was still himself. She had made him small and immobile as a ring, but he was still himself. If she had turned him into a panther fully, then he was no longer himself. His soul would reject the change, or worse, it would grab onto the new identity and reject the old one. Changing things as she did was not without uncertainty and risk. Astarot did not even trust herself to take on another form entirely except when she was able to focus on maintaining the shape and her own identity. This very special occasion was one such time, and more than that she wished to show off.<br>
<br>
Xir'ain was coiled outside, his head raised to stare out at the strange land of the fairy. He turned when Astarot and Ore'seur came out of the tower. The latter ran about excitedly, taking in as much as he could of this new place. This was the first time he had been away from Blackwell in a decade, and it was also his test to see if he would be allowed to leave the island as Xir'ain had promised. Over the past years, Ore'seur had learned much about the world beyond the oceans and beyond the Blackwell. He had memorized places and races and people and histories and events, and he'd learned to read and write in foreign languages, and while he hadn't been able to practice speech as much, only really Aldelese as Xir'ain had needed to learn it in preparation for this convergence, he was confident that he could speak at least a handful of the foreign tongues well enough to be understood. Now he stared out at a place so strange and magical that it put all of the places he'd learned of to shame before he'd even gotten a chance to appreciate their beauty for himself.<br>
<br>
"Is it time?" Xir'ain reminded the other leviathan that there was a reason for them being here. The Convergence.<br>
<br>
Astarot smiled with the siren's smile that discomforted her king. "Yes, it is about time for us to head to the meeting place. We can go there now."<br>
<br>
Xir'ain glided up to the fairy and touched his head to her hand, then drew back. "The flames are distracting," he stated. Astarot put out the flames only on her fingers, and only on one hand, which Xir'ain found acceptable. He touched her hand and was shrunk down and reshaped into a black ring about her pointer finger. Next was Ore'seur, who became a mostly identical ring around her middle finger.<br>
<br>
Astarot stepped back inside her private tower room and stood in the center of the pool. Her eyes rose to meet their own reflection in the mirror above. But the her in the mirror wasn't standing in the pool, it was somewhere else entirely. Astarot lowered her gaze to look about this different place, as it had become her own surroundings. She stood on the surface of a pond within the garden where the Convergence was to occur. She glided over the ground and up the stairs to the meeting place, her black dress waterfalling down to pool around her feet only to evaporate as she moved on in a mesmerizing cycle while the flames ran up her arms in a contrary way.<br>
<br>
Each fairy she recognized she whispered their names to her raised hand. She knew little of the kings present beyond the old holdovers. She spotted Queen Haarii, already sitting at the table. The young queen held her hands together before her and her gaze steady and distant. It had been many convergences since the merfolk had changed their official stance of political aloofness, and it seemed that Haarii intended on maintaining that status quo. Fairy tales imagined a time when merfolk had once allied with people of the abovewater, but those ages were long past, and while they may have become half-forgotten fairy tales told on land, those histories were told as a grim reminder to those of the sea of what happened when trust was betrayed. As the merfolk saying goes: "the waves break where the ocean meets the land". So while the current mermaid queen was present each convergence, she often participated only as far as exchanging pleasantries, and that was only for the more extroverted of them. It seemed that Haarii was not one of those. The queen didn't even acknowledge Astarot. Or perhaps it was that she did not recognize the fairy as the same one that so often met with her? Astarot had changed herself rather dramatically for this event after all. But the mermaid's fairy certainly recognized Astarot. Nereid was glaring at her icily. She blew him a kiss.<br>
<br>
Astarot's gaze swept across the gathering of fairy and their chosen. She recoiled at one. "Fade?" What was she doing here? The seer was beside a small figure. If she was here, and she was with someone, then it must be her chosen. The fairy that saw the future had chosen a king. The chill Astarot felt was not from her iced hair. Unsteady times they were entering. But she did not yet know why Fade had chosen to enter the game now. Was it because of something she had seen in the future? Astarot thought for a moment of her own plans. But any number of things could happen in the future besides things she touched. It was just as likely to be something she was not in any way involved with. Either way, she turned away from the unsettling sight. Her future-seeing aside, Astarot found the other fairy far too similar to herself to possibly find pleasant.<br>
<br>
Finally she found the fairy she sought. The blue-skinned fairy was speaking with the Lady of the Lake in hushed tones, but Astarot could see the lines of urgency about their eyes as they conversed. Cryogane and Albion were neighbors, so it was only natural for the two fairy to have things to discuss, but Astarot smelled delicious conflict in those words she couldn't hear. Perhaps she'd gain something more than she'd planned on this day after all.<br>
<br>
"Lillare, a pleasure to see you," Astarot greeted the blue-skinned fairy. She had not waited for the other two fairy to be done speaking, and her tone implied a friendship that did not exist between herself and Lillare. In fact, the seer notwithstanding, Lillare was the fairy most on guard against the dark fairy's constant plotting. The two whose discussion she had rudely interrupted regarded Astarot with suspicion, but there was also something else in the gaze of the Lady of the Lake. It was odd for her to let her emotions show so plainly, surely there must be something dire happening in Albion. Astarot pivoted her attention to the Lady of the Lake. "And a pleasure to you as well your Ladyship," she said with a smile.<br>
<br>
"Is there something you need, Astarot?" Lillare regarded this interruption coolly, but maintained her politeness.<br>
<br>
"Yes actually." She allowed her veiled gaze to linger on the Lady of the Lake for a long moment. To Lillare, "I wish to commission work from your own fine smiths and craftsmen."<br>
<br>
"That is hardly a matter worth bringing up here," Lillare remarked. "Unless you are saying your nation wishes to monopolize Cryogane's forges for some other purpose. Is that what you speak of?"<br>
<br>
"Nothing of the sort," Astarot waved away the assumption of warmongering that the other fairy seemed to have of her. It wasn't wrong, so she took no offense at it, but she had other goals in mind for now. "I do wish to have a few tools made, but I do not think it will take any large portion of your nation's crafting to supply the amount I desire. More than that, the main piece I wish to commission is a trinket, a gift for my king to celebrate his rule."<br>
<br>
"Then I do not see why you bring this to me," Lillare was firm on this. "Cryogane welcomes trade. Simply bring your payment to any free smith and have your trinket made."<br>
<br>
"I am able to pay," Astarot raised a finger to her lips. "What about a currency exchange? What I offer as payment holds value, but would be unwieldy to use in your nation's transactions."<br>
<br>
Lillare was uneasy about any kind of interaction with Astarot, but trade was trade. So long as the fairy was ale to pay, she was not barred from personal trade in Cryogane. It was only with larger trade agreements that oversight was necessary. "Very well," she said. "I will meet with you at noontime on the first day of the next month. Come to Snowslide Keep then, and we will oversee the transaction."<br>
<br>
"Wonderful!" Astarot beamed at the cold fairy. "My king will be overjoyed at receiving the masterwork of your people as a gift!" With her hands together before her, the dark rings on her fingers eclipsed her lying smile.<br>
<br>
"Speaking of your king," the Lady of the Lake inserted herself back into the conversation, "are they not present here? I have not heard any word of the nation you founded in these past years. I'd like to know of it, if you are willing to share gossip."<br>
<br>
"It is not yet time for me to reveal the fruits of my work," Astarot said evasively. "When that time comes, you will notice, I should think. My king will bring change that will be felt around the world."<br>
<br>
"That has the ring of bragging to it," Lillare said. "Your nation is young, and there are others much older who do not claim as much."<br>
<br>
"Your nation is strong?"<br>
<br>
The question came from the Lady of the Lake. It was not something Astarot had expected from her, but it was a card she would gladly add to her hand. The black fairy grinned. "Quite."<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><i><b><br>
72 posts until the end of the arc. </b></i></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>ARRAN'AK</b><br>
<br>
<b>Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle </b><br>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 15<br>
Economy: 8<br>
Military Might: 19<br>
Technological Advancements: 12<br>
Citizen Happiness: 8<br>
</div><br>
Another cycle down another convergence to happen, though at least this time there were new faces. It was good to see the world once again becoming populated by chosen nations. Still this was all part of a cycle one that sometimes annoyed Kul'tir. Nothing lasts forever not even a kingdom ruled by an immortal lich, Kul'tir had broken one cycle and had pondered long upon breaking another. Looking to the others he towered over most , his size having grown in undeath as his power did; though he made sure to not grow to large. Kul'tir was currently a good ten feet tall and bedecked in some of his best finery, bit he made sure not to put on to much a balance between opulence and modesty was needed.<br>
<br>
The other kings and queens were mostly humans though one king was missing  though the fairy that was there in his stead  Azeala had told him had a malevolent reputation. Their nation would need to be watched just in case the shadowy fairy lived up to that reputation. The true surprise of the Kings was the rat man they were almost never chosen as kings by the fairies. It truly was an odd choose given their short lives there would likely be a great amount of in fighting for the throne and amount families. The kingdom would likely be unstable or more so than any other kingdom. Azalea whispered if the fairy being an odd one as well having only just shown interest in the world.<br>
<br>
Sadly it seemed the fairy king would be out, Kul'tir had wished to meet with one who he considered an old friend.  Few could match the age of Kul'tir and even fewer were older and the fairy king was the most active of those, at least if you discounted all the fairies he guessed equally old rulers was more apt. It was during these thoughts that the black fairy moved about and  started making deals, it seemed she was the one in charge  as she moved first to establish relationships with others. that was not unheard of, but  most tried to play up their kings as the leader and not the lost follower. Kul'tir  wondered  what the black fairy was seeking was it to start things small then open the chances to future pacts  until the fledgling could stand on it's own?  Small things often lead to bigger deals, still just where were the nation the black fairy held sway over was located, Kul'tir  had never really heard of them, had the fairy made a people to govern, that would be new.<br>
<br>
" <b><span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)"> Well then  with the rules  out of the way we can get down to business</span></b> " Kul'tir  said  his tone warm likely reminding someone of a grandparent that was happy to see his kids. "<b> <span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)">It is nice to see so many new faces it does and old man good to see youngsters  rising up to fill the empty seats</span></b>" he continued making this something of a speech though every word while meant to be kind did hold a hidden meaning that was only thinly veiled.  "<b> <span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)">And i see some interesting choices have been made for kings let's hope that will bring some changes to this world, it has been boring for far to long</span></b>" He chuckled now he could get to the point "<b> <span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)">Most of your nations are young, a mere decade at most and there are many challenges  that come with such and age, growing pains, challenges to your holds, recovery from wars, and all manner of devastating repercussions.  Thus i will announce that Arran'ak is willing to offer aid to help you all establish yourselves</span></b>" he finished hopefully  establishing a friendly image in the young kings minds.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b><i>71 posts until the end of the arc.</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px">Vethenia</span><br>
Day 1, Month 1 of the Year in the 501st Convergence Cycle.</span><br>
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/526281/" target="_blank">View attachment 526281</a><br>

    			<div class="tabsBb" id="tabContainer_1736444799">
	    			<ul class="tabsBbTitles mainTabsBb"><li class="bbTab active"><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444802" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444799" href="javascript:"> The Elections</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444803" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444799" href="javascript:"> The Convergence</a></li></ul>
	    			<ul class="tabsBbContent"><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444802" style="display: list-item;"><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 16<br>
Economy: 2.5<br>
Military Might: 9<br>
Technological Advancements: 15<br>
Citizen Happiness: 1<br>
</div>The streets of Cantobreses were packed with people, all trying to get to the nearest polling station to cast their votes. Huge banners were hung on the buildings lining the streets, each calling for the people to vote for a specific candidate. Within the numerous taverns across the town, there were discussions about the various candidates for the future mayor of Cantobreses, although none of them had the popular support that Herphaeus had.<br>
<br>
However, that is not the case is every other major Vethenian settlement, for the cities such as Raguzzios, Sparucius, Direnzzes and so on remain empty and desolate. The people had chosen to huddle in fear within the illusion of safety their homes provided, whispering about the rumours they had heard about the Necromancer, none of them good. The rich and the elites barricaded their houses in and refused to even step out of their estates, instead sending their servants to fetch the household the necessary supplies. Some went even further and started their own farms and workshops, isolating themselves even further from the rest of the world. During the night, some townspeople crept their way out of the city into the wilderness, planning to make an escape to the foreign lands of the Saragothic Kingdom, Albion, Tesselces, Cyrogane, and even the faraway lands across the sea. The sporadic escapes continued long after the undead armies had long left the realm, for the terror sown among the population still remains fresh within their minds.<br>
<br>
Those that still remained on the street are either the foolish, or the desperate, sometimes both. The homeless folk continued to beg on the streets at day and huddle within the alleys at night, but now that the cities are barely alive, most of them had either starved to death, or left the city for the nearby wilderness. Those that remained had withered to the point that they might as well be corpses, as they lied unmoving on the side of the streets, barely showing any signs of life. Thieves and all sorts of criminals also run rampant in the streets, now that the sheriffs no longer patrol the streets and apprehend those who break the law. This phenomena, known as the Silent Days, would continue for a few more months before the public finally recovered, but nothing would ever be the same again.<br>
<br>
However, within a small house in the city of Raguzzios, there were two men having a conversation over two mugs of murky beer, an unwanted product in the past, now an expensive luxury item that not even money could purchase at times.<br>
<br>
"Damn it, Darius. Your brewing skills are still as shitty as they were ten years ago. Is this even beer?"<br>
<br>
"You can fuck right off, Soltes. I'll let you know that even this 'shitty beer' is now considered a luxury. We're literally drinking like kings now."<br>
<br>
Soltes looked at Darius with a look of disbelief, before looking over to his mug, and then back at Darius.<br>
<br>
"Really? You might as well say that shit is now a luxury."<br>
<br>
"It is! With no one cutting firewood for those fat asses, they are now buying dried up shit to light their homes. It's not everyday when you see their faces light up when you present them with shit."<br>
<br>
"You can't be fucking serious, Darius."<br>
<br>
Darius stared at Soltes with a serious expression.<br>
<br>
"Whatever, you're the fool that still roams the streets now."<br>
<br>
"Hey, I take offense to that."<br>
<br>
"No one cares, Darius."<br>
<br>
"Ouch." And with that, the two friends burst into laughter, before they slowly calmed down."<br>
<br>
"Actually, Soltes. Who do you think is going to win this 'election'?"<br>
<br>
"I mean, there's only that armless beggar that's still somehow alive now, and that 5 year old kid that somehow got nominated. Not much to chose from."<br>
<br>
"You know, I'm thinking of nominating myself. Being the fucking mayor must be a pleasant job."<br>
<br>
"You crazy bastard, you know that the Necromancer can't be serious. Seriously, letting the people chose their leader? He must be nuts to do that."<br>
<br>
Darius only shrugged in response.<br>
<br>
"Might as well give it a try. I mean, I can't possible lose more than I already did from this war."<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444803" style="display: none;"><br>
Herphaeus busied himself with sorting out the piles of paperwork on his table, not even sparing a moment to look at whoever just walked into his room. There's simply too much stuff to do now, as the unification of Vethenia, at least most of Vethenia, had created a whole slew of problems for the man to deal with. First off, the sheer amount of death and destruction that occurred as a result of the Unification War has significantly weakened the economy. Men that could've worked in the fields or in workshops now rest several feet below the ground, and the once stable trade routes of the realm are now disrupted, as fearful merchants routed their goods around the warring nation into the ports of Tesselces, the Saragoths, and directly into Cyrogane. It's going to be a while before the trade routes recovered. To make things worse, the fearful people also began to flee the nation en masse, further decreasing the population of the new nation. The damaged cities also need to be repaired, but Herphaeus only had so much men, and they can't be everywhere at once. He started to regret sending off the undead army, they might had been able to help with the reconstruction of the nation, even though they might be terrifying in the eyes of most of the population.<br>
<br>
"My lord, it is time." Herphaeus' thoughts were interrupted by a sudden voice, and he looked up only to find Messaline standing at the doorway. He hastily tidied his paperwork before he stood up. "Of course, Your Ladyship. We shall make the preparations immediately!"<br>
<br>
"This way, my lord." Messaline gestured Herphaeus to follow her to the dressing room, where Herphaeus changed from his linen robes into something more fitting for a king, a blue robe made out of silk. The man also had a small golden crown on his head, a sign of his status, as well as new, polished leather shoes, the skin taken directly from the fearsome river crocodiles that live in the Fyunsteel River, known for their beautiful, smooth hides. Once he had fully prepared for the occasion, Messaline teleported both of them into the fairy realm. Once again, Herphaeus was briefly blinded by a flash of bright light, before he was greeted with the sight of a truly beautiful garden. The vegetation was lush and lively, the water as clear as crystal, and he could see masterfully crafted stone pillars surrounding a clearing with a simple, yet elegant round table, where dozens of important-looking figures sat and discussed various matters.<br>
<br>
"My lord, I would recommend heading over the gathering and participating in the discussion."<br>
<br>
Herphaeus nodded and the two slowly made their way towards the clearing.<br></li></ul>
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<b><i>70 posts before the next Convergence</i></b>​</div></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>TROTOPOLIS <br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle.  </b>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 4<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 2<br>
Technological Advancements: 2<br>
Citizen Happiness: 3<br>
</div>Kul’tir, the lich.<br>
<br>
King of the Arran’ak, the accursed lands that was home to necromancers and the walking dead. Annabelle repressed the urge to shiver as she studied his unholy form for the first time. His grandfatherly couldn’t really mask the stench of death that followed him. Or the coldness of his presence (though Lillare did a fine job of matching him—if not outright beating him—in that regard).<br>
<br>
Why would anyone do that to themselves? She’d heard stories of the legendary king that became a monster of course. How resurrected his dead people. How he defied the laws of life. Annabelle had only just started learning magic, but even she knew his sort of magic was forbidden in certain circles. Luxus had warned her that she would encounter many races in the Convergence. That her reactions would determine Trotopolis’s political sphere. However, even she couldn’t help being human.<br>
<br>
Prince Salim’s warm grip on her hand rekindled her flame and reminded her of where she was. Her nation was one of the ones Kul’tir addressed. His words, kind as they were, irked her. He seemed to be looking down on the younger nations that had only existed for a ‘mere decade’and, given how quickly he pounced on the opportunity to offer them ‘aid’, she only half believed his offer to be genuine. Things that were too good to be true rarely were.<br>
<br>
She doubted the undead felt any growing pains either.<br>
<br>
It was just as Luxus said. Lots of subtle snubs and games.  Still...Annabelle knew better to antagonize the king of a nation of undead. She smiled<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “Your generosity is appreciated, King Kul’tir. Trotopolis may be a young nation, but our merchants look forward to doing business with your people.”</span><br>
<br>
What had Luxus said? Opportunities must never be closed? Annabelle glanced at Luxus who was whispering something to Tirius, then waved at a blue fairy with a fish-like tail. Clearly he had no intention of helping her through the myriad of politics. It was in direct contrast with the black fairy, Astarot, who seemed to be speaking for her king.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(71, 85, 119)">“My father would probably agree with you, King of Arran’ak, but I’ve always found boredom  to be much safer for the world as a whole.”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle’s eyes flickered to her left. She was surprised Prince Salim had spoken up. Given that he’d just come to represent his father, she figured he wouldn’t do much more than listen. He wasn’t ambitious as his brother and didn’t seem the sort to like politics too much.     <br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(71, 85, 119)">“Though...I am curious what your intentions are, your majesty. News of Vethenia’s unification—backed by the march of the undead—have even reached the shores of Candor. That, along with your ships and runners bringing...word...of Arran’ak’s mercenaries. It doesn’t seem like your style. At the very least, I don’t recall the history books mentioning your undead participating in another country’s affairs before.” </span>He nodded at Herphaeus. <span style="color: rgb(71, 85, 119)">“Congratulations, by the way.”  </span><br>
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>ARRAN'AK</b><br>
<br>
<b>Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle </b><br>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 15<br>
Economy: 8<br>
Military Might: 19<br>
Technological Advancements: 12<br>
Citizen Happiness: 8<br>
</div><br>
Ku'tir couldn't say he didn't expect to be called out for his overly kind words, despite them being rather honest. He did want to help other countries, but the game state craft rarely meant even words that were kind even in intention were without a secret gain.  Still the prince didn't seem to realize what he would gain by helping out with the other countries or why a lord of the undead might seek to aid others.  This likely meant he was new to statecraft as the queen by him seemed surprised that he spoke up. Well Kul'tir could be honest or he could try to hide it. In cases like this the truth was the best option also Kul'tir had little to hide he did seek to help the other nations as this was a good thing.<br>
<br>
"<b> <span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)">That is quite simple my boy</span></b>" Kultir started still being rather like a grandfather in tone "<b><span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)"> We undead have a reputation that is not exactly good in many countries, and i understand why. i have seen many a necromancer makes slaves of spirits, calling people back against their will, and more vile acts. that has left a bad taste in others that they project on us even though such actions  carry a punishment worse than death in my lands</span></b>" He explained and it was true most would think of the vile necromancer that bound and enslaved souls, that robbed graves, and did other vile acts.<br>
<br>
while explaining that might not be fully needed he did need to make sure other understood the difference between his people and those that they all hated, those that gave everyone a bad idea of how necromancy could be used.  These preconceptions were almost always  in grained in any nation always fearing the undead and hatting the necromancers.<br>
<br>
"<b><span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)"> But back to my point, i do have reasons for offering aid and that is to attempt to mend this horrid reputation that criminals have cast upon my people</span></b>" He explained and this was true he wanted to show he was nice and that he had the things to spare to aid others in both trade and military "<b><span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)"> I do this now because nations like yours and others have peaked my interest</span></b>" He said honestly still all his words were kind and he did mean his desire to help "<b><span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)"> I do hope that answers your question, perhaps  you would enjoy a tour of my lands to see why i wish to have this dark reputation dispelled?</span></b>" He offered having taken an interest in the boy as perhaps a potential ally  or at least having a good future in his home country.<br>
<br>
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<b><i>68 posts until the end of the arc.</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>TROTOPOLIS <br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle.  </b>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 4<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 2<br>
Technological Advancements: 2<br>
Citizen Happiness: 3<br>
</div><br>
Prince Salim nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response given by King Kul’tir, though, what the prince’s thoughts were, Annabelle couldn’t say. His face remained respectfully neutral. <span style="color: rgb(71, 85, 119)">“You do me a great honor, your majesty. If my father should permit it, I would be happy to accept your offer.”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle had to admit, she was a bit taken aback by the dead king’s proclamation. She wasn’t even aware that Arran’ak had such laws in regards to necromancy, let alone their king’s desire to change the reputation of his undead. Given how long Arran’ak had already existed, she wondered if this was new thing, or if it was a battle he’d been carrying for centuries. Fixing the reputation of his nation, that is. Kul’tir’s dislike of “criminal” necromancers, at the very least, seemed real enough. Perhaps there was more to Arran’ak than her childhood bedtime stories would lead her to believe.<br>
<br>
Certainly Kul'tir didn't seem anything like the stories made the lich king out to be.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “I’m not certain if the events in Vethenia garnered your undead the reputation you were hoping for…but I do wish you the best in your goal, Lord Kul’tir. It seems to be a noble one. After all, if your people have been unjustly painted, it ought be rectified,”  </span>Annabelle glanced at Salim.<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “How’s your father, by the way?”</span><br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(71, 85, 119)">“Still cursing the doctors. I expect he’ll have a good couple of years left.”</span><br>
<br>
Annabelle gently squeezed the hand that comforted her before letting go.<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “I’m glad to hear it,”</span><br>
<br>
Aedeus was well past his prime. His illnesses were coming on more frequently. Who knew when death would claim the old King of Candor? It saddened her to think that her former king, a man who’d been like a mentor to her since she’d been chosen by Luxus, would die. However, for mortals, there was no escaping the flow of time and life. When that happens, one of his two sons would inherit the crown. Likely Felix, though the decision still lay with the king. No. The fairy.<br>
<br>
Annabelle peeked Tirius who now sat crossed-legged on Salim’s shoulder, his leafy wings folded. Aedeus would probably give the crown to whichever of his sons Tirius acknowledged, given his faith. She wondered who Tirius would choose. As a former citizen of Candor, Annabelle couldn’t help but be concerned about its affairs. She was biased towards Salim. However, Felix’s achievements were no less notable. He also had a strong faction that supported him.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(97, 189, 109)">“Stop staring at me, Human. Salim will get jealous.”</span><br>
<br>
Luxus snickered.<br>
<br>
Gracefully ignoring both of them, Annabelle turned her attention to the man in blue silk that Salim congratulated. The King of Vethenia. He subjugated his people with the power of Arran’ak’s undead. United his country through force. However, Trey had also called him a brilliant thinker and strategist—a man of open mind. He built a university that welcomed all races. He was the first to utilize Arran’ak’s undead mercenaries. More importantly, Luxus had told her he’d been chosen by a fairy the same time she had—10 years ago. He was one of the new kings.<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)"> “I’d like to offer my congratulations as well, Lord Herphaeus. My brother won’t stop praising your new university in his letters. He says he’s learning a lot.”       </span><br>
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<b><i>67 Posts until the end of the arc</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px">Vethenia</span><br>
Day 1, Month 1 of the Year in the 501st Convergence Cycle.</span><br>
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/527756/" target="_blank">View attachment 527756</a><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 16<br>
Economy: 2.5<br>
Military Might: 9<br>
Technological Advancements: 15<br>
Citizen Happiness: 7<br>
</div></div>The fairy-ruler duo approached the gathering within the clearing, before standing aside to not interrupt the discussion going on. However, that doesn't mean that they are not listening, as any sort of knowledge gained here may prove useful in the future. As he continued to listen in on the conversation, he found out that one of the rulers present was Kul'tir, the king of Arran'ak that had lent his forces to Vethenia just a few months prior, allowing the nation to be finally unified after the collapse of the Vethenian Empire of old. Then, one of the participants, likely a ruler judging by the fact that he's accompanied by a fairy, spoke about his nation, before turning and congratulating him on the Unification. He nodded to the man before thanking him, before allowing the conversation to continue.<br>
<br>
A few moments later, the woman who stood beside the man that congratulated him previously, likely the ruler of their neighbour in Trotopolis, judging from what he heard previously, turned to him and congratulated him, before making a comment on his newly established university. Apparently her brother is enrolled in it, but Herphaeus didn't recall receiving a student that was royalty. He probably hid his identity to avoid complicating things, registration was a tad more complex for nobility than for commoners after all, considering the various accommodations that had to be made to guarantee their safety. Putting a halt to his chain of thought, the scholar turned to face the woman and spoke.<br>
<br>
"Ah...I thank you for your compliment, the Institute is indeed the finest among all of my works, and it gladdens me to see that your brother is appreciating it, Lady Annabelle."<br>
<br>
As he ended his sentence, Herphaeus silently hoped that he got the woman's name correct.<br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span>​</div><b><i>66 posts until the next Convergence</i></b><br>
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px"><u>Empire City</u></span><br>
<span style="font-size: 15px">The First Day of the First Month of the Year 501</span><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 4<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 5<br>
Technological Advancements: 8<br>
Citizen Happiness: 1<br>
</div></span>​</div><span style="font-size: 18px"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'">Today was the launch of the fleet. It had taken 10 years and enormous effort. But finally, on the start of the New Year the Heavenly Armada would set sail and begin the process of visiting every nation they found, and creating ties of trade and diplomacy between them and the Jade Empress. She heard a Gong in the distance and stood, dressed in her finest Regalia, Placed upon a massive Tower topped with a huge Jade Dragon Statue overlooking the Fleet, and putting on her most Regal Expression she began to speak. <span style="color: rgb(26, 188, 156)">"Today is the Launch of our Greatest endeavour yet taken. A fleet Ten Years in the making, and a New Great Nation announced to the world. Today is the New Year, and simultaneously it is the day of Kings, where every ruler pays Homage to the King of Heaven. Thus, it is with great pleasure that I ask the Great Green Dragon to send both the Fleet and myself safely on our respective journeys. May Heaven Smile Upon Our Nation!" </span>Slowly, almost laboriously the massive Dragon atop the tower lifted its head and blew gently towards the fleet. Despite the Dragon seemingly exerting little effort in blowing, the breeze it generated was strong indeed, immediately sending the fleet on its way and forcing the crowd to brace themselves and look away. But when they looked back up at the Tower both Dragon and Empress had vanished, leaving the Kingdom under the command of her Husband, the Royal Consort Shan Yu.</span></span></span></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Isle of Monsters</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 26px">L E V I ' A N T H</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Cinzel';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Blackwell</span></span>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 7<br>
Economy: 11<br>
Military Might: 16.5<br>
Technological Advancements: 3<br>
Citizen Happiness: 7<br>
<br>
<i>Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle</i><br>
</div>"No, I think not," Astarot said aloud after sitting in silence with a finger pressed against her lilac lips as she contemplated the topic and came to a decision on her own, her king's, and her nation's stance. She raised her hidden eyes towards the undead necromancer king. "Your royal undeadness," there was a heavily implied impropriety in how she addressed him. "You have lived, pardon the term, much longer than many of the children at this table. Tell me, what do you know about life?"<br>
<br>
"Oh?" Kul'tir said looking to the fairy a little curious he had almost forgotten she had been there. "Well if that is your choice fairy queen," He said a mild jab at how her nation had only her to represent them as if she ruled them. It was an oddity and in truth Kul'tir did not like it if she was ashamed of her king for whatever reason.  "Though I would much rather hear that from your chosen king, but I guess that is impossible,"  He continued not planning to force anyone to accept his aid, and this fairy struck him as one he wouldn't want to help. "Every nation here has the right to chose their path, and if you chose for yours to not receive any form of aid to establish yourself, then more for any who do," He said simply, his tone measured and simply stating facts anyways. "As for your personal question, I lived a life before I died, one cut short after avenging those who killed my loved ones and taking their domains under my rule."<br>
<br>
Astarot leaned forward, her fingers together before her. "I didn't ask you about your life," she said in an airy stream. "I asked what you know of life. In the many years you've neglected death, what have you learned about living? Have you learned anything at all in that time, or have you wasted it all?" Her voice was mocking, saying that there was a correct answer to this question, that it was some sort of test. Her hidden eyes were locked on the king awaiting an answer.<br>
<br>
"You seem to think I simply lock myself away in a tower and never come out," Kul'tir said. "I have learned to build, learned how languages changed, I have seen nations rise and nations fall, I have brought forth beings that locked themselves away into the light once more, I have harvested the crops and baked them into bread, I have known love over and over and suffered the loss of their death over and over, I have played the kind uncle to children and the spoiling grand father, and I have  known war. I have seen every horror that war can throw at one. I have seen the dead and the dying and seen them march once more. I have watched villages I erected razed to the ground and razed other to the ground in return. I have not been idle in my long life. I have lived more lives than anyone has any right too" He answer having walked so many paths in his rule  both directly and indirectly.<br>
<br>
The black fairy was silent as she watched Kul'tir even after his rambling had ended. She sighed and shook her head slowly. "No," she spoke evenly, "Your one life ended long ago. What you do now, it is not living." She shook her head again. "I fear for any future that continues to tolerate your rule as if it is acceptable. How can you claim to be good and kind, when you cannot even recognize that what you are is an evil to the living?" She stood up.<br>
<br>
"QUIET! YOU KNOW NOTHING OF MY LORD!" Lady Azaela  spoke up pissed at  the the fairy. "IT IS YOUR VIEWS THAT CAUSE NO END TO SUFFERING!" She continued not taking the insult lightly to her lord. "Life is experience. Undeath is just carrying on experience. I am sure what ever monsters you are raising to kill and murder are more your kind. That is why you do not bring your king, you do not respect them for not being the bloodthirsty monsters you want to unleash upon the world!" She continued  clearly calling out  the dark fairy out for not bringing her king. <br>
<br>
"Now now Azaela please do remain calm. I have heard all these before. Some just have such a static boring view of life." Kultir said. "They see life as ending at death. Truly it is sad that such views rarely change. Once they have it they never give it up." He continued speaking from experience. He turned to the dark fairy. "I have seen those that share your opinions. It saddens me that even fairies are unable to move on or change  themselves." <br>
<br>
"So much for the rule bender and trouble causer. Can't even break away from a common viewpoint," Azeala commented.<br>
<br>
"Well that aside I do hope Azaela is wrong about you. That would be dreadfully predictable, the dark fairy  creating a kingdom to bring destruction. Truly a waste." He continued joining in a little bit with Azeala. "I am sure you are much more creative than your views, but well as your nation does not want help, then so be it. Help is free to be rejected," He said, his tone  saying this conversation is over and he had little respect for the fairy left.<br>
<br>
Astarot raised her hand to her mouth as if taken aback by the other fairy's ...strong? To her they sounded more desperate - words. But there was a small smile hidden behind that hand. "Think of me however you wish, I at least do not perverse the division of life and death, or between fairy and king." Now she let her grin be seen by the undead king's fairy.<br>
<br>
"Right, you just rule in your king's stead," Azeala suddenly spoke up as the other fairy spoke. "Don't pervert it because you likely just use your king instead of respect them, a massive perversion if you don't bring them forth."<br>
<br>
Astarot just laughed at Azeala's tantrum, moving her attention away from the unimportant fairy onto her king. "Needless to say, I reject your offer of aid, oh kind undead king. And I hope that the leaders of living subjects put much thought into what it means to ally themselves with those who do not accept death as final. The value of life is in death. And that is what you have lost, Kul'tir." She sat down and brought her hands together before her again, hidden eyes no longer aimed at the skeleton king or the petulant fairy beside him.<br>
<br>
"Really you must keep calm Azaela. You always get excited when someone repeats those same old lines." Kil'tir said not even bothering to speak with the fairy anymore or even acknowledge she had spoken. It  was the same old lines that everyone spoke. It seemed the living never changed. Abomination this, perversion that, life is about death; all the exact static and unchanging opinions. <br>
<br>
"Sorry my lord," Azeala  said. "I to grow tired of the same generic prepackaged ideas," she apologized. <br>
<br>
"Good. Hopefully with the personal insults out of the way we can continue this civilly, and at least now I can write off one trading partner or even ally," Kul'tir said, going on as if the fairy had not spoken, dismissing her as stuck in the past unable to change her views. "After all I do have a surplus of food and many fine goods to trade," he continued  the offer for aid. In truth likely would be rejected by most as they were already set up.<br>
<br>
"One line has been drawn," Astarot whispered almost silently into her hands. "Now to see which ones are willing to cross it." That had gone better than she'd planned. She had Azeala to thank for that. As her veiled eyes swept across the table, there were many fairy and kings looking her way, or at Kul'tir, and few others that seemed unwilling to look at either. The mermaid queen, whom had been watching the whole exchange, now sat with her eyes closed, but her fairy was aiming a questioning glare at Astarot. It said, 'What do you think you're doing?' One did not walk into their first convergence and instantly make an enemy of their seniors. Hot-headed green kings on occasion perhaps, but a fairy should know better. Astarot turned away from the mermaid's fairy with a subtle smile upturning her lilac lips.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<i><b>64 posts until the end of the arc.</b></i></div>
				
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	<div class="message-userContent lbContainer js-lbContainer " data-lb-id="post-9472413" data-lb-caption-desc="QuirkyAngel · Feb 1, 2019 at 3:32 AM">

		

		
	


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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>TROTOPOLIS <br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Cycle.  </b>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 4<br>
Economy: 7<br>
Military Might: 2<br>
Technological Advancements: 2<br>
Citizen Happiness: 3<br>
</div><br>
The value of life?<br>
<br>
Death?<br>
<br>
All of this was going beyond Annabelle’s head as she watched the scene between Kul’tir and the black fairy, Astarot. It was unexpected to say the least. She had expected the false pleasantries to last a bit longer. Granted, her interaction with King Herphaeus hadn’t been false in the least. She really appreciate his stalwartness in creating a university open to all races and hoped her brother got to learn a lot. Vethenia’s technology was far superior to that of the people of Trotopolis. More importantly, he would be exposed to various cultures. He would be able to bring home knowledge that could help their people improve their lives.<br>
<br>
Annabelle glanced at Herphaeus. Astarot’s warning about allying with people who do not accept in the finality of death clearly applied to him. Wasn’t he morally obligated to defend Kul’tir, given that Vethenia’s unification was made possible largely due to the undead?<br>
<br>
Weren’t they allies?<br>
<br>
Annabelle’s personal values were probably more aligned with Astarot’s. She didn’t want to live forever and couldn’t ever imagine herself becoming an undead. No matter how scary death was, if it came, it came, and she would probably accept it…probably. Annabelle was only human, after all. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to Trotopolis if she were to die at the moment. How could she fault Kul'tir for wanting to save his kingdom?  <br>
<br>
Yet...could one truly value life if one did not fear death?<br>
<br>
Annabelle looked to Luxus who shrugged. Clearly he was leaving the foreign relationships to her.<br>
<br>
She’d already opened potential business relations with the people of Arran’ak. However, the black fairy was drawing a line. Did helping Arran’ak mean closing business relations with…whatever kingdom Astarot supported? Annabelle didn’t want that. However, she didn’t want to close opportunities with Arran’ak either.<br>
<br>
Annabelle was saved from having to say anything when the masked mediator spoke.<span style="color: rgb(44, 130, 201)"> “Azalea, you get a warning for the use of the word ‘monster’ to address a race chosen by a fellow fairy as that directly violates the first rule in which all nations to be considered equal in this room—thus equally treated with respect. One more and I’ll have to ask you to leave.”</span><br>
<br>
Then he went back to silently taking notes. Not a word had been uttered from their ‘mediator’ since he’d gone over the rules at the start of the convergence. It was rather curious. Was his role only to settle disputes? He didn't seem to be stopping any arguments that arose. Why was he even here?<br>
<br>
Regardless, Annabelle was already finding herself wanting to leave. Animosity. False pleasantries. It grew tiring after a while...and the Converge of Kings was proving it even worse than the council meetings she had with neighboring island leaders.<br>
<br>
<span style="color: rgb(184, 49, 47)">“Regardless of any morals regarding life and death, Trotopolis will maintain its open trade policies.”</span><br>
<br>
There. Declaration made to the entire table. Hopefully it’ll allow her nation to remain neutral in whatever conflicts arose.  <br>
<br>
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 <br>
  <br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- ">Meanwhile...</span><br>
<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“It’s been a while, Fade. I’ll admit, I didn’t really expect to see you here.”</span> Luxus popped up beside the oracle while his queen spoke. Minor teleportation magic was silently used as he didn’t want to disturb the meeting of kings. They seemed to having such a fun discussion.<span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)"> “And with a new king at that. When did you choose?”</span><br>
<br>
The leprechaun tipped his hat at the Ratkin. <span style="color: rgb(243, 121, 52)">“Salutations and congratulations, by the way.”</span><br>
<br>
The Ratkin had never been represented at the Convergence before, so it wasn’t hard to deduce that Fade had chosen her king fairly recently. How? Why? That still remained a mystery. Fade had never expressed a desire to leave the Fairy Realm before. Yet she did so now...because of a rat. It was too interesting not to comment on.<br>
<br>
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 <br>
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<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<b>63 posts left until the end of the arc. </b></div>
				
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	    			<ul class="tabsBbTitles mainTabsBb"><li class="bbTab active"><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444804" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444800" href="javascript:">Observations</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444805" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444800" href="javascript:">Separations</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444806" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444800" href="javascript:">Preparations</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444807" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444800" href="javascript:">Acquisitions</a></li><li class="bbTab "><a data-xf-click="bbTab" data-tab-id="tab_1736444808" data-tab-container-id="tabContainer_1736444800" href="javascript:">Horizons</a></li></ul>
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<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">The Fairy Realm</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 22px"><b>Elysian Gardens</b></span></span>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
<b>Stonemoor's Prosperity</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 5<br>
<br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle<br>
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Even though Milkweed had a seat at the large table and was clearly the oddest thing at this gathering he was amazed at just how little attention he was receiving. Sure there was an initial curiosity to him, as he'd expected, but once that was over the other rulers simply went about their business as usual. They barely even gave a passing glance to the tiny figure cloaked in grey sitting in the tiny chair at the grand table. And in all honesty, that suited Milkweed just fine. He's always felt more comfortable in the background, it often meant he wasn't in any immediate danger or being targeted by anyone. This anonymity gave him the perfect opportunity to simply sit and absorb everything that was happening around him.<br>
<br>
Most of it was simple politics. Various rulers trying to increase their wealth, power or influence through various means. The large undead was certainly a head-turner for most, but Milkweed was already aware of the Dead King Kul'Tir's influence. His claims against rogue necromancy were certainly true, as Milkweed had heard some truly horrific tales from the sailors that made port back in Landover. But he also knew that Arran'ak wasn't adverse to hiring out spare 'labor', as he'd also heard tales about undead being used in raids and across battlefields all across Aldelor regardless of nation or creed. It seemed the Dead King was more tolerant of death and destruction as long as it was his own undead committing the act, rather than some rogue mage with delusions of grandeur. A power to be wary of, certainly.<br>
<br>
Then there was Milkweed's direct neighbors to the south. The lands of Vethenia had long been the preferred hunting ground of Shendoran raiders. Their fertile lands, soft villagers and bickering city-states created the perfect atmosphere for them to get in and get out without any fear of retaliation from the ruling powers. But Milkweed had heard rumors that Vethenia had finally been united following a civil war, and the chatter amongst the nobles confirmed those stories. That being the case Milkweed guessed that, assuming the new ruler of Vethenia wasn't a complete wet rag, that the days of easy coastal raids were coming to an end. He wagered there would be about five more years of unrestricted access to the coast before people started to properly recover from the war. Milkweed logged that nugget away for later, it might prove useful. Their ruler also made mention of an 'academy' of sorts, a place of learning for all races. That piqued his interest, as Milkweed was always willing to learn new things. But he doubted he would get the chance to partake in such a place, something in his bones told him he'd be busy for the foreseeable future.<br>
<br>
And just to the west of Vethenia lay the island nation of Trotopolis. Honestly Milkweed had only learned about them through passing stories while partaking in Landover's houses of libation. They were a new nation, so new in fact the sailors often joked you could still smell the pitch on their hull. In years past the islands had been a reasonably safe berth for returning raiders and merchants alike, but the lands simply weren't inhabited enough to warrant anything more than a passing interest from Shendorah's hungry inhabitants. But with their establishment as a nation that was likely to change, and Milkweed wondered if the fledgling state would be up to the task of defending their coasts when the weather warmed and the winds turned. The young queen also seemed to be making doe eyes at the young prince of Candor, no matter how much she denied it. Probably nothing, but if she decided to ally herself with the old kingdom then that would make them a decisively less appealing target for pirates and the like. More useful information to be used when needed.<br>
<br>
There was an assortment of other nations and beings gathered as well. Milkweed gave them passing interest as most weren't even close to his borders, however he did make note of the Jade Empress making the rounds. Her reach had grown substantially over the past decade or so, and Milkweed wondered if it had anything to do with her being chosen during the last... 'Convergence' was the term being used for this event, if he recalled correctly. She seemed a haughty sort, unsurprising given her self-appointed status as a 'living god'. Milkweed could almost taste the bile in his throat at the thought of having to trade words with her. Arrogance had always rubbed his fur the wrong way.<br>
<br>
However there was one being that proved to be an outlier at this gathering. Not because she was... 'dressed' the most excessively, and not even because she was alone and had no obvious ruler accompanying her. It was because Fade had not stopped watching her since the meeting began, and Milkweed had noticed. The fey clad in black water, the one known as 'Astarot', appeared to be the most aloof of all the gathered beings. She was simultaneously invested and disinterested in the surrounding matters of state. In fact her actions had been so specifically roundabout that Milkweed had to suspect she was purposefully acting on some unspoken agenda. Nothing about her seemed accidental, and Milkweed could feel a twinge of fear run down his spine as he wondered what this manipulator was planning behind her ruler's throne. But what confused Milkweed the most was Fade's reaction to her. He had looked up to confirm his suspicions with his new fairy, but Fade simply would not look away from her. And Mlikweed could feel this potent aura of... Sadness? Regret? Some visceral feeling of melancholy was radiating off of Fade as she looked on towards the fairy of dark waters. Milkweed didn't know if he was simply attuned to her enough to feel it, or if she was powerful enough to express so much without saying a word. He was truthfully jealous for a moment, wishing that his own people's silent communication of 'pensing' was half as nuanced as what Fade was producing. But it seemed Fade could feel Milkweed's gaze as well, for she did eventually turn to look her king in the eyes and give him a reassuring smile. And as much as she tried, as much as the feeling of reassurance was being gently washed over him, Milkweed still didn't feel all that convinced. <i>'Astarot',</i> he mused to himself, looking back one last time at her darkened visage, <i>'Seems like you're one worth remembering here.'</i><br>
<br>
Milkweed was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the tiny fey man just blink into being right beside himself and Fade. He was thoroughly convinced that nobody would give him the time of day compared to all these other, more established rulers. But it seemed his strangeness, or more accurately Fade's strangeness, was enough to warrant a direct response. Milkweed only nodded politely to the tiny man in green, not really sure if he should say anything since he wasn't really a ruler of anything at the moment. Meanwhile Fade simply kept her same dainty smile and bowed politely to the new fairy, she too electing not to say anything to him. But Milkweed could feel a sense of greeting and camaraderie emanating from her, once again making him jealous of Fade's latent powers.<br>
<br>
Luxus rolled his eyes, a playful smile on his lips despite his words. "Fiiine. Don't tell me. Oracles! Pfft! Never talk when you want them to." Shaking his head, the Leprechaun looked towards the Ratkin that Fade had chosen. "So how do you like the Convergence of Kings so far? Your first one, right? My Queen is the same." He nodded in Annabelle's direction. Milkweed looked back out at the gathered nobility for a moment to consider his answer, then spoke carefully, "...It's a daunting sight. To be honest, I'm not sure if I can keep up." Before he could even look back Milkweed suddenly felt a gentle hand between his ears. Fade quietly scratched at his fur, which caused Milkweed to instinctively lower his ears in a relaxed, submissive fashion. He felt extremely calmed by Fade's touch, but after a moment he realized just how childish and weak this made him appear. He quickly straightened himself out, and Fade politely withdrew her hand from his fur. But her smile remained the whole time.<br>
<br>
Luxus watched the interaction between the ratkin and Fade with interest. She seemed to have really taken with him. Knowing her, it was likely something she foresaw. Either in the Ratkin himself, or his future. "I'm sure you'll get used to it. <span style="font-size: 9px">Some of these kings aren't as big as they pretend to be</span>." The last part was said in such a low whisper, it was just barely audible to human ears. However, a Ratkin should have an easier time hearing it. Luxus grinned. "I'm Luxus, by the way. Fairy and financial minister of Trotopolis." The leprechaun held out his hand. "Who are you?" Milkweed was naturally wary of strangers, but in this environment he felt a little bit of trust wouldn't do him much harm. He reached out his paw and carefully grasped the fae man's hand, still not surprised that a being as small as Luxus could still dwarf his own tiny paw. "Milkweed. ...Of Landover." 'Landover'? The dangerous town full of pirates and raiders? Had Fade chosen a criminal then? Oh. Well... if it was Fade's choice, it can't turn out bad. Luxus beamed, shaking the Ratkin's paw. "Milkweed of Landover, huh? I look forward to seeing what you will accomplish."<br>
<br>
After a moments pause, the leprechaun added. "If you ever feel you need help getting started on a business venture, feel free to visit me in Trotopolis." And with a polite nod of his head Luxus was gone, turning on his heel and blinking out of existence only to reappear next to his Lady Annabelle. Milkweed watched the green fey for a second, then looked to Fade for her opinion on the matter. She merely looked to Milkweed and gave him that same unassuming smile she always had. Milkweed felt nothing especially noteworthy coming from Fade, so he snorted softly and shrugged his shoulders. He guessed he would have to judge that fairy for himself when the time came.<br>
<br>
The gathering continued as it had for what Milkweed guessed to be an hour. Greetings and pleasantries gave way to politics and matters of state, which gave way to petty banter concerning intimacy, virtue and social standing. Milkweed calculated that he'd heard all that was useful from the surrounding conversation, and so he decided now would be the best time slip away. Without saying a word he quietly left his seat and innocuously walked away from the gathered delegation. He didn't even bother to look back, so sure was he in his skill that he knew only a trained eye would have noticed his leaving the table. Hiding in plain sight was one of his more masterful tricks after all. Milkweed walked calmly into the field of flowers surrounding the Convergence towards the place where he and Fade had entered the Fairy Realm. Fade was following silently behind him, her graceful steps carefully parting every blade and petal so that neither was damaged by her touch.<br>
<br>
Milkweed expected the two of them to stop at some point in the field where Fade would perform her light trick again and they would both be whisked back Shendorah. What Milkweed wasn't expecting was the sights and sounds of the summer meadow to suddenly shift to those of sea salt and crying gulls. The change was so smooth that he didn't even notice it, and Milkweed looked around incredulously to check his surroundings. Just like that he was standing on the docks of Landover, right beside his own <i>Fortuna.</i> Milkweed whipped his head around to look at where he assumed Fade to be slightly hovering above the soaked wood, only to see her faint smile fading away into nothing at the last possible second. But even though he couldn't see her Milkweed could still feel her presence nearby, and looking towards his ship he knew exactly where she was. He carefully crossed the gangplank onto the ship and entered his cabin, gently closing the door behind him.<br>
<br>
And there was Fade, just as he'd felt. She was sitting on the tiny chair next to his desk, which was arguably too small for her yet her delicate frame seemed unconcerned by this. She sat there silently watching Milkweed, unmoving and unblinking behind her silken veil. Milkweed leaned his head against the cabin door and sighed loudly. He brought two claws up to the spot between his brows and scratched, trying desperately to gain some control over his racing thoughts. His brain was bursting with something close to a million questions that he wanted to ask her, but at this exact moment only one seemed the most relevant, and the most important. Milkweed stood back up and looked directly at Fade, and then carefully, calmly asked, "You have a plan?" The fairy's little smile grew just the tiniest bit, and she nodded her head in agreement.<br>
<br>
Milkweed inhaled deeply, then released it in a slow, methodical motion. "Alright," he said as he adjusted the clasp of his cloak to a more comfortable position, "Then there's work to be done."<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444805" style="display: none;"><br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Shendorah</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><b><span style="font-size: 22px">Trade City of Landover</span></b></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">The Maiden's Court</span></span>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
<b>Stonemoor's Prosperity</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 5<br>
<br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle<br>
</div><br>
Milkweed stood before two giant wooden doors that were, in fact, the bow of the old <i>Green Maiden </i>cut down the middle. The <i>Green Maiden </i>had been the flagship of the dread pirate Captain Grayce, who had been the one to originally gather the Four Captains and instigated Landover's founding some 40 years ago. Now its hull formed the entrance to the largest, grandest villa high above the waves that crashed against Landover's craggy peaks. It stood upon a narrow bed of carved stone and 12 black iron columns driven deep into the rock. These columns were supposedly made from the melted down cannons collected from each of the flagships of the Four Captains. According to legend, the villa, dubbed the 'Maiden's Court' in honor of Captain Grayce and his contributions, was created as a place where all the Captains could gather to discuss disputes and enjoy the finest entertainment their wealth could buy. According to legend, this alliance lasted all of four days before blood and steel was brought to bear, the alliance shattered, and any semblance of cooperation between the Captains was lost. And supposedly it all happened because of an accusation during a card game. Now the Court was simply the highest, richest villa in Landover, overseeing everything else below as the unofficial seat of power over the city.<br>
<br>
That seat was currently occupied by none other than Captain Grayce himself, still alive and somehow still managing to maintain his power despite decades of mutiny and assassination attempts. He'd lost the Court once shortly after the First Mutiny, but he quickly managed to wrest it back and has kept an iron grip on it ever since. And it was before that man that Milkweed had to go. The guards dutifully barred his way at first, but after he dropped his hood and showed them the golden skull pin he held in his paw they quickly adjusted their attitude and allowed him through. Milkweed had been in Captain Grayce's employ ever since his mentor Breeze had passed on. The old buck had finally gotten too old for the job, and tragically took a pistol shot to the side after he'd killed his mark. Milkweed quickly took up his spot as Grayce's personal assassin and spy, and he'd been living comfortably ever since.<br>
<br>
The guards barred Milkweed's passage at first, but once he lowered his head they quickly changed their attitude. They began shouting over the villa's red painted walls for the gates to be opened. The massive hull of the Maiden groaned in protest as it was slowly pushed open by a team of four slaves. 10 feet of pitch and oakum reinforced wood creaked against the heavy iron hinges that held it in place. Milkweed didn't wait for the gates to be opened fully. He merely needed a foot of clearance before he scampered through the narrow opening, quickly leaving both the slaves and the guards in a state of confusion. The sounds of the guards beating their frustrations into the slaves quickly faded away to be replaced by the sounds of merriment. The gates opened up into a large, open air gathering space that was fashioned like a courtyard. In the very center of this courtyard was a giant wooden mast, again taken from the <i>Green Maiden,</i> that formed the central pillar of the villa. The Maiden's Mast held up an elegant patchwork of sailcloth that created the tented ceiling above, shading those below from the sun and guarding them against the frequent rains.  Strewn about the spacious floor was a vast assortment of tables, chairs and pillows of various design, and much of it was being used for revelry and debauchery. Finely crafted bottles of liquor fought for space on the tables, sitting amongst a grand array of foodstuffs and various narcotics taken from every corner of Aldelor. Candles, torches and incense smoldered away which amply lit and enhanced the lively courtyard. People of many races were lounging about in various states of undress, enjoying each other's company through speech, song, music and touch. These 'gatherings' were largely instrumental for Captain Grayce to maintain his power. He was quite fond of showing how much it paid to be in his good graces.<br>
<br>
Milkweed weaved his way through the debauched crowd until he came to a seat at the back of the courtyard. It was a throne, crafted from the wheels of the Four Captain's flagships. Sitting on it was a man of at least 60 years, that showed both in his face and his gut. The man sported a long, grizzly white beard, and was wearing an unbuttoned commandant's coat which put his many chest hairs on full display. A red bandana was tied about his head in such a way that it covered his left eye, and a crescent shaped scar curved out from under the bandana's cloth to curl along his chin. The man was smiling and roaring with laughter, a large bottle of spiced rum in one hand and a scarcely dressed wench in the other. She was attempting to feed him figs from a silver tray, but he was too preoccupied with exploring the fruits of her body to care.<br>
<br>
Milkweed stood before this man on the throne and bowed his head, causing the man to take his eyes off the wench and properly direct them towards the tiny killer. "Milkweed!" The man spoke in a jaunty roar that had been nurtured from years of shouting orders on the open sea. His voice had a gravely tone that was likely indicative of smoker's lung, and a yellowing film was clearly visible over his remaining teeth. "Mate! 'Eard ye was busy last night. The fat bastard finally bit off more than even 'is gluttonous, odorous mouth could chew. Ha! Scuttlebutt says 'ee bled like a stuck pig." The man leaned forward and jabbed the elbow holding the rum towards Milkweed in jest. "Ye gettin' a flair for the dramatic me friend?" The ratkin shook his head in dismissal, then reached up and pulled back his hood so the Captain could look upon his face. Captain Grayce studied the rat for a moment, seeming to look for something particular through his drunken haze.<br>
<br>
"Bah!" He cried, settling back into his chair and suddenly dragging the wench into his lap. She fell with a squeal, dropping the figs and trying to suppress her giggles as his hand began to travel over her flat stomach. The Captain continued his banter with his hired knife while entertaining himself with the wench. "So it's payment ye be wantin' then, is it?" Milkweed nodded in agreement, but spoke up to clarify the situation. "Aye Captain, but not in the usual way." Captain Grayce's bushy eyebrows raised inquisitively at that. "Ohh? Well, pray tell then! What is it that Landover's most feared Silver Shadow desires? Ye want a turn with the lass 'ere?" The wench suddenly looked confused and concerned at that suggestion, which made Captain Grayce bellow in laughter. Milkweed allowed the Captain a moment to enjoy his jest before he answered. "I want to leave your service, Captain."<br>
<br>
Captain Grayce's face sobered instantly. His eyes seemed to have lost their sheen, and he turned to give his hired hand a long, steely gaze. The wench's face suddenly turned white in fear, and she did her best to extradite herself from the Captain's lap. Grayce barely noticed, as he was far too focused on searching Milkweed's eyes for some secret thing only known to him. He slowly set the bottle of rum down beside the throne and rested both hands over his knees. Milkweed didn't move, nor did he show any sign of fear. He was immobile, stalwart, statuesque even. After a long moment Captain Grayce finally spoke, no longer with the same tone of mirth as he had before. Now his gravely voice had taken an edge, and the man sitting before Milkweed appeared much more the scheming king that he was rumored to be.<br>
<br>
"...Tha's quite a shift in the wind, me friend. Damn near cyclonic. Wot's brought this on, eh?" Milkweed remained steady as he answered, "I feel there's something more for me out there in the world, and I aim to find it." Captain Grayce studied Milkweed intently, looking for any sign of deceit or treachery. The faint sounds of revelry around the courtyard had begun to quiet since Captain Grayce had ceased his carousing. The Court was growing still, now turning their attention to their Captain to see what he was about. After several long moments of thought the Captain suddenly burst out a belly laugh, leaning back in his chair and holding his gut. "So! It's the wanderlust what's taken ye, that it? Didn't think ye to be much an adventurer Milkweed."<br>
<br>
The Captain's laughs quickly died down as he looked back at his sworn ward. His voice was now much more calm and even as he mused aloud, "Y'know this means desertion, aye?" The wind howling outside the crags was the only sound heard after that. All eyes were now on the tiny rat before the throne, and the imposing Captain that sat upon it. Yet Milkweed stood firm, his expression never moving an inch. Carefully the Captain reached towards his waist and withdrew a pistol, gleamingly polished with intricate patterns carved into the barrel. Captain Grayce began to wave the firearm around in a casual manner as he spoke, "Such things are punishable by death. Might be I aught kill ye fer suggestin' it." Quicker than lightning the barrel was pointed towards Milkweed, the flintlock already cocked back and waiting to fire. And still Milkweed did not move. If anything, he looked ready to accept whatever Captain Grayce was willing to do in this exact moment.<br>
<br>
After what seemed to be an eternity, the Captain's hard gaze suddenly turned into a small smile. He released the trigger and holstered his pistol, sighing as he settled back into his chair with his arms settling on the rests. He exhaled loudly, then laughed once at the ridiculousness of it all. "Me best killer. One day workin', the next leavin'." He took another hard look at Milkweed before he asked a question, but really it was phrased more like a statement. "Somethin's changed with ye lad, 'asn't it?" Milkweed didn't respond, he simply maintained his stance and awaited his Captain's judgement on the matter.<br>
<br>
Another long look of contemplation passed before Grayce threw up his hands in defeat. "Fine! It's what ye asked, then it's what ye receive. Don't let it be said that Captain Grayce doesn't pay his dues." The Captain turned his head and barked at a large mass of muscle and scars that had been standing quietly against the wall, watching the entire exchange in silence, "Shay! Get the locket." The man in question, a dark skinned individual with hair as black as night done up in braids that reached down his back, nodded in response. He disappeared through an open doorway into the villa proper, and about five minutes later came back with a silver locket in hand. Without looking away from Milkweed, Captain Grayce held out his hand and accepted the locket from Shay. He held up the locket, which was a beautifully carved piece with the image of a skull on its face. The Captain flipped a switch on the locket's side, and the front face popped open to reveal a piece of parchment stuck inside. On one side of that parchment was a thumbprint marked in blood, but much smaller than your average man's thumb. But it was just about Milkweed's size.<br>
<br>
The Captain's face was grim as he spoke, his words tinged with a seriousness that seemed far outside his normal character. "When ye first swore yeself to me, ye gave me a blood oath. An' until I sign this oath with me own, yer honor bound to come when I call." Milkweed didn't respond, but his eyes betrayed a faint hope. He had a hunch where this was going, and if that was the price of his freedom then he would pay it willingly. Captain Grayce snapped the locket shut with a flick of his finger, then carefully pocketed it inside the lining of his stolen coat. "If ever ye see that locket again, ye come. Without fail. Aye?" Milkweed nodded slowly in response, "Aye, Captain." Captain Grayce waved the ratkin off with one hand dismissively. "Then go, I aint yer Captain no more." Milkweed bowed deeply in respect to Captain Grayce, then turned and left the way he came.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
Once Milkweed had gone out of sight the party began to resume as it had been, if a bit more muted than before. Shay stayed by his Captain's side, while Grayce sat there with his chin on his hands. "Ye saw her too, didn't ye?" From the shadows behind a silk curtain a figure slinked into the courtyard. It was a woman, small in stature but beautiful to look upon. Her raven hair had many beads, bells and other trinkets woven into it, and she was adorned with a collage of colored silks and bone charms. Her chestnut skin was adorned with tribal designs from head to toe, and there was a certain air of power about her that turned heads when she appeared.<br>
<br>
The woman stood next to her Captain and nodded her agreement, "Aye, Captain." She looked on to where she had seen the fairy girl just out of sight beyond the Mast, practically fading into the background. She mused aloud in a calm, mystical lilt, "Strange winds, indeed." Grayce snorted once, nodding in response. He knew what he'd seen, and it had been a <i>long</i> time since he'd seen such a being. Some 40 years ago in fact. It had only been for a moment, but the Captain was sure his eyes had not deceived him. The antlers had seemed a tad much, but that smile said more than enough to convince him. Milkweed was going off to do something incredible, and Grayce could only imagine what the future held for him.<br>
<br>
His smile widened to display a mouth full of yellow, and the Captain laughed.<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444806" style="display: none;"><br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Shendorah</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><b><span style="font-size: 22px">Trade City of Landover</span></b></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">The Grotto</span></span>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
<b>Stonemoor's Prosperity</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 5<br>
<br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle<br>
<br>
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<br>
</div><br>
Down beneath the Court and all the other villas of Landover was the Grotto, a series of natural caves carved out from a millennia of running water flowing beneath the mountains. These caves formed the nerve center of the city's inhabitants, and were the very key to Landover's survival. The countless twisting pathways and secret lagoons created plenty of space for people to build and expand, and the mountain above gave more than enough defense against any would-be heroes or foreign navies. A wide variety of buildings had been erected since Landover's founding, and it created an exotic hodge-podge of structures that appeared both disjointed but solid at the same time. The truth was that Landover never had any real forethought put into its design, so as more room was needed the inhabitants simply worked around what was already established to the best of their skill. The result was a hive of timber homes, hovels and warehouses that jutted out from every subterranean wall, held up by thick support columns (which were mostly repurposed masts) and woven together by an intricate web of fish netting, catwalks and plank bridges. Oil lamps hung from every corner and post, lighting up the murky caves in a perpetual twilight and casting a field of stars upon the water below.<br>
<br>
The biggest structures were located near the mouth of the Grotto, including the largest warehouse in the entire city known as the Serpent's Horde. This building housed more variety of goods and secrets than any other port in Aldelor, or so it liked to boast. Every day ships of all sizes would moor at its pier, offloading countless barrels, crates and chests filled to the brim with valuable trade goods. The bulk of it was stored in the large cavern that the wooden façade shielded from the elements, but some was transferred to the open market out front to be bartered and sold to the locals. Tobaccos, teas, silks, exotic fruits, spices, silvered finery and trinkets galore. And of course some of the finest spirits throughout the known world. All of it proudly on display under the watchful eye of its shady hawkers. And everything that went through this Horde was overseen by the most unlikely of souls.<br>
<br>
A thin man in his middling years stood at the end of the dock, busying himself with inspecting a shipment of lumber being offloaded from a 40-gun galleon. The man wore a simple white shirt and brown pantaloons, held up by leather straps over his shoulders because a belt was simply useless on his incredibly thin waist. His boots were high, practical things that shined like fish scales in the faint traces of sunlight peeking through the clouds. Upon his nose sat a pair of bifocals with a golden wire frame. A shock of white, mousey hair fell from the sides of his head in wispy patches, leaving a prominent bald spot atop the bulk of his cranium. The man was fastidious, as was evident by the great attention to detail in his simple but perfectly maintained attire. And he was so busy with his inspection that he didn't notice the tiny ratkin in the blue-gray cloak weave his way down the dock and slip right behind the old steward's back. Milkweed watched and waited until he knew the man was in the middle of a mental calculation before he slammed his tail down on the deck with a loud whipping '<i>CRACK'!</i><br>
<br>
To his credit the man only flinched a little at the sudden disturbance, then slowly turned around to see what the bother was. His expression barely changed when he saw the culprit, and simply turned back around to continue his work where he left off. "Still haven't tired of that jest, I see." The man's voice was raspy with the burden of age, making him sound a decade older than he appeared. Milkweed smiled at the old man as he replied kindly, "It's nice to see you too Harkin." James Harkin checked off another box on his parchment, still facing away from his uninvited guest. "As old as I am," Harkin said with a subdued bite, "I can take some comfort that I should only endure that childish prank for five more years or so." The barb stung, but he did have a point. Milkweed was already seven and most of his kind didn't see many years past their 12th, even in the safest environments. Still, Milkweed kept his smile and continued the conversation. "Could I make it up to you with a little business?" Harkin tilted his head at that, turning back around to look at Milkweed properly. Clutched in his claws was a ruby the size of a large pebble, perfectly cut into the shape of a teardrop. Harkin's sunken eyes brightened considerably at that, and his face actually broke into a calm, wrinkled smile. He handed his parchment and quill to another dock worker and then lead Milkweed inside the Horde. They walked past the barkers and stalls, through the winding maze of stacked cargo, and into the very back where a wooden staircase led up to a long shack that ran the length of the warehouse below.<br>
<br>
Inside the shack was a reasonably well kept office, its walls lined with desks and cabinets completely filled to the brim with various documents, parchments and ledgers. In the back was the largest desk of all, perfectly well kept and by far the cleanest space in the Horde. Possibly the cleanest space in Landover itself. Harkin took the seat behind the desk and offered the seat in front of it to Milkweed, which he took after pushing it closer to the polished beechwood. Milkweed actually stood on the chair and rested his paws on the end of the desk while Harkin sat across from him with his hands clasped together. "So," Harkin said with an air of professionalism, "What is it you're looking to acquire?" Milkweed held the ruby in his paw and began to play with it, flicking it over his fingers so that it fell across them one by one. Harkin's eyes never left it, and for good reason. That ruby was known as a 'blood token' within the city, and it was vital in maintaining Landover's economy. See the city had pulled in so much wealth over the decades that it legitimately became too cumbersome for the wealthy and influential of Landover to barter in simple coins. They needed something more valuable, and the blood tokens were their answer. Each token had a base value of 1,000 doubloons, but that was only the beginning of their true worth. Blood tokens had serious weight in Landover, so much so that they had become a status symbol. They were almost exclusively used for buying and trading favors between the most powerful warlords and those that served them. A token could get you access to even the most exclusive bars and brothels up in the Peaks, and practically everyone that dealt with rare merchandise traded only in tokens for their wares.<br>
<br>
Harkin was one such dealer. And as he watched the gleaming light play off the token's facets, he couldn't help but wonder just what it was that Milkweed was hoping to trade for. He hadn't been down to the Horde in over a year, and last Harkin heard the Silver Shadow was doing quite well for himself as Captain Grayce's personal killer. Besides, Harkin dealt mostly with bulk goods. If Milkweed wanted some exotic trinket or secret information there were dozens of other contacts he could have reached out to. Not that Harkin didn't have those wares available, but he wasn't the most knowledgeable on such things. So why was Milkweed here?<br>
<br>
The albino looked sideways at his old friend and contact while continuing to play with the token. "What is it you're so fond of saying? 'My door's always open for those that pay?'" Harkin nodded quietly in agreement, then watched dumbfounded as Milkweed reached into his cloak and pulled out a sack the size of a cannonball. It clattered onto the polished wood, spilling its contents before Harkin's eyes. A pool of red tears were winking at him from atop his desk, and the stunned man could only look up in disbelief, flabbergasted at the implications. Milkweed's gaze was even but playful as he spoke. "My friend, I've come to collect."<br>
<br>
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Tucked away somewhere within the Grotto was a quaint little pub barely known to the rest of the populace. In fact one had to be of an especially small stature to even find the place, as its entrance was hidden behind a tunnel of fish netting and salt barrels that only gave about 3 feet of clearance. The establishment in question was known as the Rat's Nest, and it was the private gathering place for all the ratkin of Landover. Through the doorway and past the sailcloth drapes was a cavern of respectable size. The interior was perfectly lit and warmed by several fire pits dug into the rock. Each pit had a ring of cushions and other soft things surrounding them, and lounging about on those cushions was a wide assortment of ratkin. Their furs and features varied drastically between them, and they all conversed and comingled with each other in very close proximity. Though most had the same general build, nobody stood more than two feet tall throughout the crowd.<br>
<br>
All except one. At a bar on the far wall sat the biggest ratkin in the room, easily standing a healthy three foot six on a good day. The soap box he used as a seat groaned beneath his weight, as it seemed every inch of his height was dedicated to holding up the sheer bulk of muscle and fat that lay across his bones. The ratkin's fur was a deep brown color like lacquered wood, and his ears were just a tad longer than one might have expected of a ratkin. He wore a simple brown shirt and pants, with a dagger tucked neatly into the back of his belt.<br>
<br>
The ratkin had a mug in his paw, what looked to be a full pint compared to the other smaller mugs and glasses being used within the pub. He was nursing it casually, completely lost in his own thoughts and the foam of his ale. But not so lost that he didn't notice the white furred ratkin take the seat next to him without a word. "Milkweed," the brown ratkin said in a gruff tenor voice, not looking away from his spot on the far wall. "Rabbit", Milkweed responded in kind. Boulder Rabbit was a well known staple at the Rat's Nest, and a reasonably respected member within Landover itself. He was a deckhand aboard a junk freighter called the <i>Blue Dragon, </i>which had been stolen from the lands of the Jade Empress some years ago. Boulder Rabbit was a hard worker, clever, and an unparalleled wrestler. Even opponents twice his size had a hard time pinning the massive buck in a fair match, a fact that Rabbit was immensely proud of.<br>
<br>
But Milkweed wasn't here to discuss sails or sport, he was here for something else entirely. He motioned to the barmouse for a drink, who was a very pretty doe with fawn colored fur and a white starburst above her eyes. She nodded politely, and while she began to pour Rabbit decided to speak up curtly about an old debt. "Ye still owe me a drink fer that tip I gave ye the other night." Milkweed chuckled, nodding in agreement as he reached into his cloak and pulled out a few coins. "Aye, just had to test out the hook first. Got me inside just fine." Milkweed slid the coins across the bar towards Rabbit, who took them in his meaty paw and stuffed them into his pants pocket. The barmouse brought Milkweed's drink over, giving him a wink as she glided the mug to him. Milkweed smiled and nodded to her, then took the mug in both paws and brought it to his lips for a deep swig.<br>
<br>
Boulder Rabbit let Milkweed savor the taste for a moment before he butted in. "So whatcher here fer? Business o' pleasure?" Milkweed licked his lips and set the mug down, still looking into the amber liquid as he spoke. "Y'know how you're always whinging about the pirate's life? About leaving the ship and doing honest work for a change?" Rabbit turned to his left to glare at Milkweed and growled lowly from his throat, but he didn't outright deny the albino's claims either. Milkweed looked to his right and met Rabbit's gaze, smiling conspiringly. "What if I told you I have your way out?" Rabbit snorted derisively when he heard that, opting to turn back to his mug and take another drink. But Milkweed quietly took a blood token out of his pocket and slid it across the bar, and when Rabbit saw the jewel he immediately sprayed his ale out in front of him. Luckily the barmouse was quick enough to raise a drink tray as a shield and had kept herself mostly dry. Milkweed stood up on his seat to pat the large buck on the back, who was coughing profusely from the shock of it all. After he'd regained his composure Rabbit tentatively reached out and grabbed the glittering ruby, still not quite believing he was holding a real token in his paw.<br>
<br>
Rabbit looked between the token and Milkweed a few times, not sure what to make of the situation. "...Whatcher playin' at Milkweed?" The assassin smiled and sat back down, taking his mug and swirling the contents idly while he explained. "Captain Grayce let me break my oath," Milkweed said, which brought a wide-eyed stare from Rabbit. "<i>On</i> the condition," He continued, "That I come back for one last job if ever he calls for me." Rabbit's eyes relaxed then, nodding his head in understanding. "Well, can't get somthin' fer nothin'." Milkweed nodded, taking another sip from his drink before he started again. "And I just got done negotiating with Harkin for a new ship and supplies." Rabbit was looking more confused now than anything. "A ship an' supply? What fer?" A roguish twinkle burst into Milkweed's eye as he spoke in a hopeful tone, "A new home." Rabbit still looked confused, and said as much, "Whatcher mean? Fer who?" Milkweed sighed a little before clarifying, "For <i>us, </i>Rabbit. A new home for us and our kind. Made for us, <i>by</i> us."<br>
<br>
Boulder Rabbit could only stare at Milkweed, unsure of how to really process the implications. Milkweed looked on expectantly, hoping to see some kind of excitement or at least acceptance from his old friend. So it was disheartening when Rabbit's expression hardened, he turned back to his ale, and slowly slid the token back towards Milkweed. "Right, good joke there whitey." Milkweed had become accustomed to barbs and jabs, but that one struck deep. Not only was it coming from what he considered a close friend but it was a complete dismissal of his offer, as well as his hopes. Milkweed's expression hardened in kind as he defended his case, "It's not a joke cuz, I'm serious." Rabbit snorted into his mug as he took another drink. "Mad is what ye are." Milkweed pushed back, "What's so mad about wanting a home, Rabbit? Huh!? Tell me that." Rabbit suddenly slammed his mug down on the bar, spilling its contents over his paw and sending a resounding '<i>CLANG!' </i>throughout the Nest. Rabbit motioned with his free paw towards the rest of the room. "Look around ye Milkweed! This 'grand splendor' ye see 'ere? <i>This </i>s'what our kind can hope fer." And Milkweed did turn to look around the room. He saw the gathered ratkin frightened into silence at Rabbit's outburst. He saw the old furniture, the discarded cushions and broken lamps. He saw fires being fed by broken crates and driftwood. He saw dirty glasses, mismatched sundries and a gathering of lost souls. Nothing fit, nothing was new. Nothing was their own.<br>
<br>
Milkweed looked back to Rabbit, who continued to glare at him while he shared his opinion. "A warm 'ole in the back o' someone else's home. That's all we'll ever 'ave, cause that's all we'll ever be. Leftover, fergotten, used." Rabbit stuck a meaty paw in Milkweed's snout, pointing accusatively at the smaller ratkin. "I've seen that kinda 'ope afore. An' I tell ye, it don't bring nothin' but ruination 'pon them what 'eed its siren song." Rabbit turned away sharply from Milkweed, staring pointedly down into his mug while grasping it both paws. He turned quiet then, and after seeing that a fight wasn't about to break out the other ratkin in the Nest began to pick up where they left off. Milkweed just sat where he was, watching Rabbit carefully the whole time. He was angry, but more than that Milkweed could tell that he was scared. When Milkweed wouldn't look away, Rabbit decided to speak up to break the silence. "I've seen too many o' us chase after that 'ope Milkweed. I've lost shipmates, I've lost friends. ...I've lost kin..." Rabbit's gaze was now far beyond the last dregs of ale in his mug, staring into oblivion as his mind traveled back to some dark memories.<br>
<br>
Milkweed's expression softened when he saw and understood his friend's feelings on the matter. He let the brown buck simmer in his thoughts for a minute before he spoke up carefully and tentatively, "...Look, I see what you mean. All of it. And... It's true, we might all die attempting this. Nobody ever wants us... And there's nowhere we can go what hasn't been claimed. We're inquisitive folk and eager to a fault. We get ourselves into trouble whether we look for it or not." Milkweed reached up and put his paw on Rabbit's shoulder, gripping it firmly as a comrade. "But I really think we've got a chance. We need paws, and you know every tail and whisker in this port. You can get us the help we need, help we can trust." Milkweed looked to the bar counter where the blood token had been jostled to the edge from Rabbit's earlier outburst. He placed a claw on it and slowly slid it in front of Rabbit's mug. "Cuz, I'm gonna try for this. With or without you. But I really want you with me on that ship."<br>
<br>
Rabbit sighed heavily as he stared down at the jewel in front of him. All his life he'd had that faint hope of a home, some place that he'd help to build with his own paws. Something new, something clean, something to be proud of. He'd shared that hope with other ratkin that were close to him, and he saw them run off into the blue chasing it. Many were killed just after they left, others were never heard from again. The ones he did hear of were either thieves, mercenaries, or shacked up with some of the most unsavory clans he could name. Nobody trusted ratkin, and most would just as soon kill them simply for how they looked. If their kind was to have any hope of survival on their own they'd need a common goal to work towards, and a damn good leader to keep them on track.<br>
<br>
Rabbit looked back to Milkweed and studied him intently. Milkweed in kind merely looked back with hope in his eye, but then suddenly he had to blink thrice to clear his vision. No, he wasn't hallucinating. For the briefest of seconds he knew he saw her. Those antlers, that veil, and that charming smile of hers were unmistakable. Milkweed saw Fade well... <i>fade </i>into being for just a moment. She reached out and touched Rabbit's shoulder, and as soon as she did Milkweed saw Rabbit's face soften considerably. And just like that she was gone, leaving Milkweed confused, surprised and staring at the buck who was eyeing him like a pawn broker eyes jewelry.<br>
<br>
Rabbit's stare lasted a moment longer, and then he asked gruffly, "You 'ave a plan?" Upon hearing that Milkweed could only smile knowingly, and nodded his head in agreement. Rabbit acknowledged him with a grunt, then grasped the blood token in his paw and held it tightly. He upended the mug, draining the last of the ale in one go and setting it back down with a solid thud. Rabbit stood up from his seat to his full imposing height, adjusted his pants, and looked to Milkweed. "S'what's first then... Cap'n?" Milkweed quickly took a last swig of his ale and dropped a few doubloons on the counter to pay for their drinks, then readjusted his cloak and answered his new First Mate, "First, we buy some loyalty."<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444807" style="display: none;"><br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Shendorah</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><b><span style="font-size: 22px">Trade City of Landover</span></b></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">The Pits</span></span>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
<b>Stonemoor's Prosperity</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 5<br>
<br>
Day 2, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle<br>
</div><br>
The air was stagnant, claustrophobic, and carried the pungent odors of sweat, blood and refuse. The caverns were oppressively dark, illuminated only by torches and lanterns held by the guards that patrolled its damp pathways. The only sounds to be heard was the faint dripping of water and the occasional sob or scream. The Pits were the deepest, darkest caverns in Landover, hewn so far into the mountains that they actually dipped below the water table. While part of the caverns served as the prison for those that earned the Captain's ire, the Pits were primarily used to house the many slaves brought back by the city's myriad bands of coastal raiders. Here they stayed in the damp and dark until they were ready to be presented at markets throughout the Grotto.<br>
<br>
A small group of individuals trudged through the darkness, keeping it at bay with torches perched on the end of long rods for stability. One of them was a man with a distended belly and absolutely no sense of fashion. His clothes appeared wealthy but they were completely mismatched and proudly displayed garish colors with no cohesion between the lot of it. At his side were two tiny figures, one about three feet high and the other barely reaching two. The smaller one was cloaked while the taller one simply wore some outer clothing typical of a sailor. Flanking the lot of them was a group of four large looking individuals, two of them men and the other two orcs. All of them clearly body guards as their chests were laid bare and they were the ones holding the torches aloft for the others. The torches crackled and hissed, leaving a thin trail of smoke behind as the group plunged on towards their goal.<br>
<br>
That goal came into sight as the darkness turned truly black and the only light to be had was from the tiny sputtering of the torches. A glint of iron bars came into view, spaced tightly along the mouths of many smaller caverns lining the tunnel's path. Within these caverns huddled pitiful beings, dressed in rags and covered in their own filth. There was a large assortment of races present within these cages, though the bulk was largely that of human stock. The tiny albino walked side by side with his brown-furred companion and carefully inspected the cages as they passed by. Neither appeared to be finding what they were looking for, but Milkweed still seemed intent on searching while Rabbit appeared more skeptical and disinterested.<br>
<br>
Rabbit sighed and voiced his concerns, "Y'know this weren't wot I thought ye meant when ye said 'buyin' loyalty' at the pub." Milkweed kept searching through the cages, sometimes poking his nose close to the bars and sniffing a few times, which often elicited fear from the wretched things inside. He answered Rabbit while continuing to stalk the darkened passages with his ruby gaze, "We need specialists for our job Rabbit, and I'm more'n certain I can't buy the type of loyalty I need for as cheap as I can get down here. Up top folk would just as soon leave when they realize they'd be working for a rat, let alone once the first winter hits. But down here," Milkweed poked his nose through the bars of another cell, which garnered him a vicious growl from within that he visibly perked up at, "...Well, might be we get lucky and find some gold."<br>
<br>
Milkweed stopped in front of this new cell with a curious glint in his eyes. Inside there was only a single figure, and they were clearly chained to the opposite wall because they were straining to get at the bars with no results. Their arms were pinned back behind them, and the figure actually bit and snarled at the bars while the torchlight began to gather in the cell. Milkweed saw the green-toned skin first, followed by the glint of light off the fangs protruding from the mouth, but lastly he noticed the compact frame and distinctive heave of a bosom. An orc female wasn't exactly a rare sight in the Pits, but this one had <i>far </i>more fight than the average slave. She still had her sprit, which meant she was a new acquisition. Her skin was also decorated with some kind of tribal tattoos, so it was likely she knew nature and how to survive. But most of all she was dangerous, and that was something Milkweed could find a use for.<br>
<br>
"What's this one's story Greemer?" Milkweed addressed the peacock-colored man, who grinned and spoke with what was possibly the worst caricature of nobility that one could imagine, "Mmmm, hyes. This <i>ghastly</i> little pest was sold to me last week. I'm afraid I would need more time to break this one, too much <i>spice </i>for me to turn a profit off her just yet." The orc maid in the cage practically roared at these words, which caused Greemer to cringe in fear and his guards to reach for their weapons. Milkweed's smile stayed the same as he watched her, and it seemed that she had noticed the tiny rat man as well. She roared again in his direction, and the ratkin didn't bat an eye. Even Rabbit had instinctively grabbed for his dagger, but Milkweed had stood firm against her challenge. "So how much for the spitfire?" Milkweed's words roused the flesh merchant from his petrified stance and brought him back to reality. "Oh! Well uh... I suppose 200 or so would cover her costs. But are you <i>quite</i> sure little sir? Some of the boys tried to sample her treasures, but they... Well." The guards looked visibly uncomfortable now, some coughing, others instinctively grabbing for their groins. The orc inside grinned viciously, baring her gleaming fangs and spitting a glob of mucous on the ground near their feet that had the faintest shade of red. Milkweed actually laughed at that, which garnered a curious stare from Rabbit and a few of the guards as well.<br>
<br>
Milkweed grinned and spoke boldly, "Sold!," which caused Greemer to sigh in relief. "Very well sir, a fine purchase! <span style="font-size: 9px">Glad to be rid of the little bitch.</span><span style="font-size: 15px">" Another roar came from inside the cage which made Greemer recoil even more forcefully. The slaver quickly waddled off down the passage with his guards following behind, leaving Milkweed and Rabbit behind until they decided to catch up. Milkweed took a long look at his new acquisition, and in that moment the two figures locked eyes. The orc was fiery and defiant, but Milkweed was cool and calculating. Hers would be a very interesting conversation indeed.</span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px">Moving down the line the group passed more cells filled with more slaves of various races, sexes and states of duress. While there was a large gathering of humans there, Milkweed couldn't help but notice a fair number of the figures inside the cells were of a smaller, fuzzier nature. A selection of ratkin were available as well, and they peered out fearfully from behind the bars at the recognizable figures of their own kind. Milkweed didn't give them more than a passing glance as they went through the cells, but Rabbit was more empathetic to their plight. And seeing Milkweed be so callous about the situation wasn't doing his mood any favors, but he kept silent. He had agreed to go with Milkweed on this venture of his, and until the albino made some grievous mistake he wouldn't judge his new Captain without cause.</span><br>
<br>
<span style="font-size: 15px">After several more cages were passed Milkweed stopped at a particularly small cage that held no more than three individuals. Two were huddled against one wall, what looked to be a woman and child, and the other was sitting by themselves against the opposite wall. The torchlight began to illuminate the interior, and Milkweed could start to pick out more details. A scruffy, dirty beard clung to the man's face, but it was a patchwork affair that looked like it had seen abuse from the jailors. The nose was large and had a slightly reddish hue near the tip, which was some of the only color Milkweed could see on the slave's body.  arms were laid bare beneath a cheap smock, which clearly showed signs of atrophy but still had hints of their former strength. The short legs sticking out beneath the smock were the part that tied it all together. A dwarf was sitting before him, staring aimlessly at the far wall without a trace of acknowledgement behind his sunken eyes. This one's spirit was rather broken already, and by the sorry state of him Milkweed guessed he'd been down in the Pits for a long, long time.</span><br>
<br>
Greemer noticed Milkweed staring into the cage and began to pitch his sale towards the tiny rat-man. "Ahhh, hyes! Those two in the back. I've managed to keep them together for the now, but if the child isn't to your liking I would certainly understand." The two in question began to hug each other very tightly at these words, fear blatantly obvious in their eyes. "I'll take the dwarf," Milkweed said calmly, easing the fears of the other two humans but thoroughly shocking Greemer and even a few of his guards. "<i>That </i>one? Surely you jest-" The look that Milkweed gave could have curdled milk, and Greemer practically wilted on the spot. "...Right, yes. Well, uh... My goodness. I should think that 50 would be a fair-" Milkweed butted in before the pigeon could finish, "Don't even try and feed me that tripe Greemer. You got that one at a discount, and you'd be lucky to break even on him at this point. 20." Greemer balked at the suggestion, pulling himself up and practically ruffling his own feathers with the motion. "Prrrrre-Posterous!" The world trilled on his tongue in a pompous roll. "I may be a gentleman, but I am first and foremost a rrrespected merchant! I have a reputation to uphold!" Greemer actually huffed and folded his arms, looking away from Milkweed indignantly.<br>
<br>
"...30!" Greemer cracked an eye and looked back to Milkweed for a response. The ratkin grinned wanly and counter-offered, "25, and not a coin more." "Deal! A bargain is strrruck!" With a flourish of his hand Greemer did a little twirl on the spot, causing his silks to spin around him like a flower that was painted by an infant. The heel of his shiny shoe clicked against the ground as he came to a stop, and then they continued onward. Milkweed noticed the dwarf actually look at him as they were leaving, and he gave the dwarf a sly wink in response. He didn't stick around long enough to see if the dwarf had caught it, but it didn't matter because Rabbit was already butting in with his two pence. "Wotcher want that one fer? Weren't nothin' but skin n' bones." Milkweed quietly spoke so that he knew only Rabbit could hear him. "Didn't you see his hands?" Rabbit thought for a second, then shook his head. Milkweed's grin stayed as he quietly explained, "Only laborers get callouses like that on their hands. He's a tradesman, and by the looks of it he worked with heavy material. Don't matter if it's stone or wood, if he knows how to build we can use him." Rabbit couldn't find a good argument to that, so he decided to stay silent and continue following their guides alongside is Captain.<br>
<br>
The group continued through the darkness without much more success. Milkweed apparently wasn't able to find any more specialists or slaves that had the kind of qualities he was looking for. Rabbit wasn't surprised, Greemer wasn't exactly known for his hospitality when it came to his stock. About an hour passed of them looking through every cage they could find, and after that Milkweed was thoroughly done with seeing so much despair and hopelessness. He sighed after they were done inspecting the last cage, then looked up to Greemer and offered his last deal. "Alright, I think I've seen enough. So it's the she-orc, the dwarf man with the patch-beard, and every ratkin you have in here." Greemer's face broke into a serpent's grin as he clapped his hands together excitedly. "Of course! That would just bring your total up to-" The grin suddenly shifted into one of pure shock, "WOT!" Greemer quickly coughed and tried his best to compose himself. "Milkweed, Silver Shadow, Sir. Surely you <i>cahn't</i> be serious?" Milkweed only held his gaze in response, his face perfectly maintaining that tiny little grin of his. Greemer looked to Rabbit for confirmation on this, but the large buck was completely stoic as well. Greemer could actually see the muscles flex in his arms and shoulders, and somehow he knew that he wasn't going to get out of this deal. "...Hyes, of course. But see, I'm afraid I have some orders in for some of the other ratkin I have in stock. I'd have to cancel those contracts, and that just wouldn't be proper for a merchant of my-" Milkweed cut Greemer off by holding up his paw and showing the blood token he held between his fingers. The peacock's eyes bulged in response, and Milkweed could actually see a bit of drool forming at the corner of his mouth. He flicked the gem up into the air, and Greemer grabbed for it in an unceremonious panic. After nearly dropping the jewel he grasped it tightly in his hands, then opened them just slightly to look at his newfound wealth. His eyes seemed to glitter off the token's fire, and Milkweed could only look on in amusement. "...So it's a deal then?" Greemer didn't even answer, he just nodded his head like an imbecile without tearing his eyes away from his prize. Milkweed smiled and nodded, then turned to leave with Rabbit back out of the cave and into the light once more.<br>
<br>
Milkweed started to talk logistics with his First Mate as they progressed upwards. "So I still need you to go topside and gather as many tails as you can. We'll need all the paws we can get if we're gonna make this work. Start with the ones you trust most, then work out from there. And uh..." Milkweed motioned slightly towards the cages as he continued, "Try to stay away from the raiding ships. Some of them mighta been responsible our new help." Rabbit nodded knowingly at that. He'd already considered that tactic, but it was good to know Milkweed was considering all the angles.<br>
<br>
Milkweed was about to discuss food concerns, but just when he opened his mouth he looked ahead and saw a faint figure off the distance. <i>Her </i>again, and Milkweed could not have been more sure that he saw her there. Without saying a word Milkweed followed the phantom of Fade into the darkness where he saw her last, causing Rabbit to call out in confusion and concern. This piqued the interest of Greemer and his guards, who soon began to follow Milkweed alongside Rabbit in a confused state. Milkweed wandered past another cage mouth, then ducked behind a seemingly innocuous pile of rocks. Rabbit was intrigued by this, and allowed his curiosity to take over as he followed Milkweed into the darkness. However Greemer was suddenly distressed by this, and began to call out to Milkweed in a mild panic. "Uh, Sir! Yes uh, heheh, good sir! There's nothing down there, I assure you! Please come back before you become lost! Ha ha! Ha..." But Milkweed wasn't listening, he was hot on the trail left by his fairy and he wasn't letting up for anything. He barely heard Greemer curse and shout behind him as he trudged onward, following a thin, winding trail that cut through the rocks like a vein.<br>
<br>
It only took a few moments for Milkweed to find the end of it, but once he did he couldn't have been more glad. The secret passage had led into a hidden grotto within the Pits, and it was filled with huge crates, lavish chests and a few special cages that seemed to house unique animals. A small inlet washed water gently against the dark rocks, and the breeze Milkweed felt told him that it connected to the main Grotto outside somewhere. This was clearly Greemer's private stash, and Milkweed had followed Fade to find it. But what was it that she wanted him to find? Beyond a pile of crates Milkweed heard something that sounded halfway between a roar and the squeal of an angry boar, and in his gut he knew that was his prize. Milkweed ducked around the crates, followed closely by Rabbit, and the sight that they found left them both speechless.  Chained to the very ground was a massive being of fat, muscle, and more fat. It's pale orange skin looked sickly in the dark light, but the rest of it looked as healthy as one could expect. Its arms were the size of tree trunks, its gut the size of a boulder, and its teeth were as long as knives.<br>
<br>
An ogre, full grown and in perfectly good health, was sleeping on the ground and being held in place by at least two dozen thick iron chains. Milkweed laughed in excitement when he saw the hulking beast, and his eyes lit up with possibility. Rabbit looked to the beast and back to his Captain with dread, and it was then that Greemer and his men finally caught up with the two ratkin. Greemer was wheezing considerably, but his men were just fine and had stuck their torches in the ground to reach for their weapons. "Hah... Hoo... Hee... I, uh... See that... You've found a secret. Hehe... hoooo..." Greemer doubled over, clutching his knees and trying desperately to catch his breath. Rabbit spun around, dagger in hand and already flashing his steel at the swords being drawn by the guards. Greemer managed to catch some of his wind back and stood up straight, strolling over to the ratkin with a swagger in his step. "I'm afraid I can't let you two live after seeing all this. Too much capital is at stake here. You understand, hyes?"<br>
<br>
Milkweed didn't move, and instead simply threw a handful of something onto the ground near the guard's feet. Three blood tokens flashed in the torchlight, and the guards instantly looked to them. Then they looked to each other. There was a tense silence, and after a brief moment where Rabbit took the opportunity to step back, the four guards suddenly erupted into violence. Swords flashed, fists flew, and the four were instantly entangled in each other fighting over the precious stones. Milkweed turned around slowly to look at Greemer, whose brow had begun to visibly sweat. "Well... Um... Heheh..." He laughed nervously to hide his own fear. Rabbit boldly took a few steps towards the over-dressed man, which made Greemer reel back in terror. He misstepped, and caught the hem of his own silks with the heel of his shiny shoes. He tumbled to the ground in a heap, and in an instant Rabbit was standing on his chest with a knife to his throat.<br>
<br>
Milkweed chuckled to himself as he walked around the fighting guards and stepped right next to Greemer's head. The merchant was terrified, and tears were silently streaming from the corners of his eyes as he sobbed pathetically. "Oh please sir, spare me! I'll give you whatever you want. Just please let me live!" Milkweed kneeled down so his ratty mouth was right in front of Greemer's face. "Anything?" Milkweed's lips curled in a grisly fashion, showing off his overly large rodent teeth. Milkweed could practically hear the pitiful worm piss himself in fear, and watched happily as he quickly nodded his head. Milkweed slowly opened his mouth, making it look like he was about to gnaw on Greemer's face, then suddenly pulled back and spoke as politely as he could muster, "Then we'll take the ogre as well." Both Greemer and Rabbit looked aghast.<br>
<br>
Rabbit was the first to speak up, "Y'sure there Cap'n? That one'd be right a challenge, no doubt." Greemer spoke up too in indignation, "But -EYRGH!" He choked as Rabbit put a bit more pressure on the blade. Once he eased off Greemer coughed once and tried again, "...I can't! I have an iron-clad contract with Captain Sykes for that ogre!" Rabbit growled at the bleating peacock, which caused him to yelp in fear. But Milkweed simply reached into his cloak and pulled out a closed fist. "Of course I wouldn't ask this without proper compensation. To cover your expenses," Milkweed opened his paw and let five more tokens drop next to Greemer's face, which his eyes tracked like they were life itself, "And to buy your cooperation, of course." Milkweed motioned for Rabbit to release Greemer, which he did with a reluctant grunt. As soon as the hefty ratkin was off his torso Greemer spun in place and immediately grabbed at the red tears. He looked between them and Milkweed a few times before he slowly nodded his head. Milkweed smiled at this, then turned on his heel and began walking towards the crevice entrance, shouting over his shoulder as he did. "Have our purchases delivered to the <i>Spearhead</i> at the Long Pier in two days!" Milkweed didn't even bother to look back, knowing full well that Greemer would make good on his deal or else suffer the Silver Shadow's wrath.<br>
<br>
Rabbit looked back over his shoulder at the sorry pile of thugs, one fawning over tiny red gems while the others continued to fight tooth and nail for their own slice of wealth. He shook his head and turned back, following Milkweed into the narrow passageway and beyond. Their kind did well in low-light situations, so the torches were completely unnecessary for them to navigate the crevice. As they got closer to the main passageway, Rabbit couldn't help but float a question towards his Captain. "So how'd ye know to look here anyway?" Rabbit couldn't see it, but Milkweed was grinning. "Just followed a hunch, really." Rabbit didn't know why, but for a second he thought he heard a tiny giggle somewhere behind him in the dark.<br></li><li class="bbTabContent" id="tab_1736444808" style="display: none;"><br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Shendorah</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 22px"><b>Trade City of Landover</b></span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">The Long Pier</span></span>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
<b>Stonemoor's Prosperity</b><br>
Population: 0<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 5<br>
<br>
Day 4, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle<br>
</div><br>
The sun was shining through the clouds, marking today as particularly rare for Landover. Its warm rays basked those below in a comforting embrace as they went about their day. All along the city docks sailors could be seen scurrying between their ships, carrying cargo, shifting supplies or making repairs as necessary. But among the branching docks and piers one in particular was the busiest of all. A long stretch of reinforced wood jutted out from the mouth of the Grotto, forming a wooden road above the water four yards wide and over 100 long. The Long Pier was the spine of Landover's docking network, from which all other piers sprouted like a wooden ribcage. And it was the only pier big enough to house the largest ships that came to port.<br>
<br>
Moored at the very end of the pier was a large 40-gun galleon. It wasn't the largest ever seen in Landover but it was certainly nothing to sneeze at. It had three stout masts with a macabre collection of black, patchwork sails hanging from the yardarms. Some of the gun covers were suspiciously devoid of ordinance but the majority of the cannons were still present and accounted for. The ship's figurehead was a finely crafted piece of lumber shaped into the likeness of a woman holding out a spear in a guiding fashion. And at the very stern of the ship was a long wooden placard with a name proudly carved into its grain. The <i>Spearhead</i>.<br>
<br>
The <i>Spearhead</i> was seeing an especially large amount of traffic today as porters hauled freight by hand and winch up the gang plank and into the hold below decks. A wide selection of men had been hired to help haul the freight, but mixed among them was a fair number of ratkin. Many of them looked as grizzled and salty as the men they were assisting. And though it took three ratkin to make up the strength of a single humanoid, they certainly didn't lack for spirit. Dozens of eager paws raced to a fro to bring on as much supply as they could get, for today was a day of change. Rabbit had done well in his recruiting. He only had to visit a few of the haunts he frequented to get the rumor mill started, and once he had he quickly found himself overwhelmed with more help than he could handle. Sea rats voided their contracts, crafters and merchants shuttered their doors, and even the bar crawlers had sobered up to take part in this new venture. Many brought friends and loved ones in tow, and by the second day Rabbit actually had to turn away hopefuls for a simple lack of space aboard the ship. Everyone that Rabbit had vetted and cleared was assisting with the preparations, filled with energy and brimming with excitement at what was to come.<br>
<br>
Overseeing the chaos were two figures standing at the end of the gangplank. The diligent Harkin fussed over a board with several lists tacked to it, carefully ticking off items as they came aboard and making disapproving glares at the ratkin he caught trying to slip 'found' goods past him. Beside him was a surly Boulder Rabbit, doing his level best to remain calm among the insanity that engulfed him. But his fur was starting to bristle with just how many antics he was having to put down in order to keep the peace. In less than an hour he'd caught four pickpockets thieving from the porters, over a dozen rats nicking foodstuffs out of the stores, and two separate instances of lovebirds trying to get intimate behind the crates. Rabbit could practically feel his fur going gray as he desperately tried to get the ship ready to launch.<br>
<br>
Far above all the mayhem was a lone white figure, standing proudly atop the crow's nest and looking down at his work. Milkweed hadn't expected this much interest in his little venture when he sent Rabbit out recruiting, but he couldn't be happier with the results. They had more than enough paws to get their settlement off the ground, and what's more they all seemed eager for the chance. But Milkweed couldn't shake the feeling of doubt slowly growing in the pit of his stomach. This was a lot of kin to care for, and like it or not they were going to be looking to him for leadership. Could he do it? Could he get a home built for everyone here? Could he see them through their first winter? ...How long until one of them died for the sake of his goal?<br>
<br>
These negative thoughts had gradually been clouding Milkweed's mind the past two days, and he wasn't quite sure how he was going to cope with everything the future had in store. Thankfully he was pulled out of his rumination by a commotion on the docks below. The teeming swarm of ratkin on the pier that looked like ants from this height were parting down the center, making way for a long line of individuals being directed by hard men with weapons and a particularly bright speck of color near the front. Milkweed grinned in anticipation, and without a sound he flung himself over the lip of the crow's nest and began sliding down the rigging to the deck below. Quick as lightning Milkweed was at the bottom of the rigging, and before anyone could even register that he had descended he quickly chucked himself over the side of the vessel towards the edge of the dock. He reached out his paws and grasped the wood firmly, pulling himself in against the brine-soaked wood. Then he began to stealthily crawl along the outer edge of the docks, beyond the gaze of the gathered porters, ratkin and the eccentric Greemer leading his somber parade.<br>
<br>
The fat man in question was practically dancing down the docks as he headed the delivery of slaves towards the <i>Spearhead</i>. His silks and sashes twirled about him as he skip-stepped merrily along the planks, completely oblivious to the odd stares he received from the crowd and the trail of despair leading away behind him. When he finally got to the end of the dock he finished his little jaunt with a twirl, then placed both of his hands squarely on his hips before calling out to the overseers at the gangplank, "Ahoy <i>mateys!</i> Might I inquire as to the whereabouts of your illustrious Captain?" Rabbit couldn't have given Greemer a more sour glare, but after a few seconds that glare smoothly turned into a wolfish grin. "Oh don't ye be worryin' there <i>matey</i>, the Cap'n's always about."<br>
<br>
Unbeknownst to Greemer, Milkweed had already slipped up to the docks and had woven his way through the crowd when the peacock had started speaking. By the time Rabbit had finished, Milkweed had slipped behind Greemer and just barely grazed the hairs on his leg with the tip of his tail. Greemer nearly jumped out of his skin at the foreign contact, losing his balance and falling on his rear once more. The crowd erupted in hearty laughter at the spectacle, which lasted a full ten seconds before the guffaws started to die down. Once the moment passed the porters gradually returned to their work, still chuckling to themselves as the last bits of cargo were moved onboard. Milkweed was still smiling as he asked a few paws to help the flesh merchant up off the pier. They did so, and Greemer rather indignantly allowed himself to be hauled upright.<br>
<br>
With a huff Greemer grabbed his silks and quickly adjusted them, then turned towards the tiny assassin and stared down his nose at the albino. "Harrrumph! Do you always treat your business partners in such manner?" Milkweed's smile was pleasant and inviting, "Only the ones that deserve it, Greemer." The man grumbled in his throat, but he gave no further protest on the matter. Milkweed nodded with a pleased grin, then turned to look over the stock he had purchased. There was one obvious absence, of which he made mention, "So where is our large friend?" Greemer grinned knowingly at this and made a very showy pointing motion towards the mouth of the Grotto. Milkweed could barely see it, but there was an unmistakably large blob of mass being led down the Long Pier. Greemer folded his hands into his silks and proudly explained, "Yourrr purchase is a bit sluggish today courtesy of the 'incentive' we gave him. But it will keep him placid until the effects wear off in a few hours." Milkweed nodded, having a good idea what drug they gave the beast to force its compliance. He couldn't imagine the dosage needed to affect such a large being. Greemer reached into his robes and pulled out a pouch the size of an apple, then leaned down so he could hand it to Milkweed. "There aught be enough for two more days, should you have need of it." Milkweed looked up and took the bag, tying it to his belt and nodding his thanks towards Greemer.<br>
<br>
Milkweed waited a few more minutes for the last of the train to make their way up the pier. Once all the slaves had been gathered in front of the <i>Spearhead</i> Milkweed took a moment to inspect them. They looked about as ragged and hopeless as he expected, but they didn't appear to be abused near as he could tell. It would seem Greemer was a true businessman after all, and had kept his guards from 'playing' with any of the purchased stock. He was especially glad to see that the she-orc and the dwarf didn't have any new marks on them since the last time he saw them. In fact it looked like the dwarf's scraggly beard had been combed in anticipation for today.<br>
<br>
Milkweed nodded approvingly at what he saw, then turned to Greemer and addressed him in a businesslike manner, "Greemer, I find my purchases to be agreeable. Would this conclude our deal?" Greemer bowed deeply and answered as he always did, "I gladly conclude our deal. This prrroperty is now yours." He then stood up straight and offered Milkweed a key ring with several tiny iron keys. Milkweed nodded his agreement, took the keys gratefully, then turned and passed them to some of the gathered ratkin. "Get those shackles off our kin." The volunteer ratkin were more than happy to oblige, and very quickly began to unshackle the restraints that were worn by the indentured ratkin. Greemer looked shocked for a moment, looking askance at Milkweed at the audacity of the situation. But after a moment his face started to soften, and then the man actually started to laugh. It was an incredibly unpleasant laugh, very shrill and far too nasally, but it was genuine. Greemer waved off the situation and composed himself, "Hee hee hee hee! I suspected you might do this. Such a noble rat you are Milkweed." Greemer signaled for his guards to disperse, their job was done here. They shrugged and shouldered their weapons, leaving Milkweed with his purchases as they made their way back down the pier towards the Grotto. Greemer waved and called out over his shoulder as he left the rats to their business, "Best of luck to you, Silver Shadow!"<br>
<br>
Milkweed barely gave the man a second thought as he left. Now that the pleasantries were out of the way he could move on to matters of actual import. He watched as the shackled ratkin were systematically freed of their bonds. Many of them looked skeptical, searching about as if there was some kind of hidden danger to be wary of. Others looked fearful, completely unsure of what this treatment was meant to imply. But a few among them looked hopeful, and that faint glimmer of hope started to quietly spread among the crowd.<br>
<br>
They gathered before Milkweed, standing silent and waiting for some kind of direction on what was to happen. When the last ratkin had been set loose and clustered into the group, Milkweed turned and hoisted himself atop a wooden bollard standing above the pier. He looked out on the disheveled crowd and puffed out his chest, taking in a deep breath before speaking in a loud but calm manner, "As of this moment, you are all freed of your bonds. You are now your own masters, and in return I ask only that you stay and listen." The crowd stayed mostly silent, but there was a few outbreaks of timid smiles and joyous sobbing amid the utter shock. But they all stayed and listened, enraptured by the one that had singlehandedly bought all of them their freedom. Milkweed continued, "We set sail today in search of a new home. A home built by our own paws, a home that we can proudly say is well and truly ours. And, Mother willing, a home that will last a hundred generations and more." The crowd was looking more skeptical now, with small groups beginning to chatter among themselves. But Milkweed pressed on, "If any of you are not willing to take that chance, then I free you of any obligation you have to me. If you have kin or a life somewhere, or some other obligation that calls you, then go and follow it. I don't have much left but I will offer what I can, and there are those in town that might help as well." Some in the crowd started to look more thoughtful at this, likely remembering past lives before they were violently ripped away from them. Milkweed gave them all a few moments to ponder before he spoke again, "But if you have nowhere to go, or if you think our cause worthy, then I ask you to come aboard with me. You will have food, shelter... And maybe even family, in time."<br>
<br>
A long silence followed, broken only by the distant noise of dock workers and the cry of gullsong. The gathered ratkin were in the familiar state of being left with their own thoughts. But now they had a choice, a liberty which none would have dared to hope for. Many of them appeared to be deep in their own minds, weighing their options and deciding what was truly best for them. Then one stepped forward out of the crowd. A black-furred doe with two pups, covered by a grimy shawl and nothing else. Her steps were small and timid, and the little ones hid behind her shawl, staring on with wide, curious eyes. Milkweed hopped down off the bollard so that he was at eye level with the doe. She took a few more steps towards Milkweed, then outstretched a shaking paw. Milkweed slowly and gently grasped it in his own, and the doe nodded her head in deference to him.<br>
<br>
Then the tears started. It was slow at first, and the doe didn't even seem to notice as she maintained eye contact with Milkweed the whole time. But soon the tears grew in intensity, and the doe started to sob in restrained hiccups. A moment later and her legs gave out, her strength completely drained from everything that she had endured up to this point. Instinctively Milkweed got on his knees and held the doe to him, allowing her to grip him as tightly as her weakened state could manage. The pups were quick to follow, burrowing themselves between the two adults as they too began to wail. And once one started the rest of the gathering quickly followed suit. Tears and sobs rang out in the crowd like a chorus, and ratkin began to pair off with each other for comfort as the reality of it all sunk in. Many of the prior slaves grouped together, but the volunteer ratkin joined the group just as quickly. The emotions being processed were immense, and many of the onlookers couldn't help but get sucked in by the spectacle. Even Harkin's eyes turned glassy at the sight, and Rabbit's cheeks were dampened by a few tears of his own.<br>
<br>
Eventually the moment passed, and the former slaves began to find their strength once again. With the help of the volunteers they slowly began to make their way aboard the <i>Spearhead.</i> Milkweed helped the dark-furred doe up himself, along with the help of the two pups she had with her. Once they'd finished crying the pups seemed completely eager to get on the ship and explore, and the doe couldn't help but smile through the latent tears that misted her eyes. Milkweed saw her off to the gangplank, then stepped back and watched as he witnessed his would-be neighbors commit to their first true act of cooperation. Seeing these ratkin help each other so selflessly, with nothing more than a promise of a future to work towards keeping them together, it filled Milkweed with hope. Maybe they could do this after all.<br>
<br>
As the last few freed ratkin made their way aboard the vessel, Milkweed was pleased to see that only a half dozen stayed behind. They quietly stepped forward and explained that they had kin to find, answers to seek, and one sought vengeance for that which was done to them. Milkweed nodded knowingly, and directed them to Harkin for a care package to help them on their way. Milkweed had leftover funds as credit in Harkin's books following their negotiations, and he felt some of that would be enough to get these six started on their journeys. Milkweed bid them farewell, then turned to look at the last three slaves still left in chains.<br>
<br>
Milkweed hadn't been careless when he told the ratkin to release their 'kin' from the shackles. He'd intentionally left the two humanoids restrained and under guard while the ratkin tended to their business. And now that it was over, he walked over to his last purchases and looked up at the two of them. The dwarf barely responded at all, still very much stuck in his own mind. However the she-orc was just as furious as when he first saw her, and she violently jerked at the chains being held by eight other ratkin to keep her in place. She practically roared at Milkweed in a strange islander accent, "Oh! So NOW da ratty wants tah talk! Wat'sa mattah dere whitey? We not whiskered 'nuff for ya precious mercy!?" Milkweed ignored the orc's ranting for a moment as he looked towards the dwarf. He was worried about this one, worried that he was too far gone to ever be useful again. But somehow he had a feeling this would work out.<br>
<br>
And with that Milkweed turned to address the orc properly and hopefully allay her concerns. "No, I don't think you are lesser for not being a rat. If that's what you mean." The orc woman growled violently as she shook her chains further, but she immediately calmed down when she saw Milkweed motion towards one of the guards. The ratkin tossed Milkweed the keyring, which he caught deftly in his paw. The albino looked up at the orc with a serious glint in his eye. He wasn't going to play games with her as he suspected her jailors had done. He was going to be completely honest. "I wanted to make sure you wouldn't run away before you saw what I was about. What I said was true, I am going to build a home for us out there." The she-orc snorted derisively at Milkweed, still unconvinced of his intentions. "So watcha need me for, eh? Ya got a ting for greenskins?" Milkweed stated flatly, "Because you're a hunter." The she-orc immediately clammed up, and looked down to Milkweed in shock only to see his serious expression break into a knowing grin. He pointed to the markings on her arm, "Those mark you as a hunter from your tribe, don't they? And I'll need a good hunter to teach us how to fend of the land." The orc looked to her arm where the tribal tattoos were marked in white pigment, then looked back to Milkweed incredulously. Milkweed nodded twice, then continued, "I've seen those marks before, a few of your kind have wound up here as hired muscle. Spent a few nights buying drinks for one with a broken tusk to learn about those tattoos." The she-orc could only stare in amazement at what this tiny white rat was saying. She didn't think anyone outside of her home had any knowledge of her kind, much less any desire to learn anything about them before writing them off as monsters.<br>
<br>
Milkweed took a few steps towards the huntress and held up the keys for her to see. "I'm giving you and the dwarf a different offer than the rest. You work for me for five years. Or until I die, whichever comes first. After that you're free to do as you like." The huntress was still slack jawed for a moment, but then her old fire seemed to return and her eyes locked into a hardened gaze. She bent over so her face was just above Milkweed's, and she lowly growled out her ultimatum, "An' what's tah keep me from killin' ya maself, little ratty?" Milkweed met her gaze with a cool, viscious glare of his own. "You can t<i>ry</i>, little orc." Milkweed's eyes were filled with the cold, hoary stillness that only a trained killer could muster. And for a second he knew he saw the she-orc's gaze flinch. He grinned, and with a flick of his tail the huntress suddenly found that her arms were free. She hadn't even noticed the albino's tail snake around her back, much less knew he was dexterous enough with it to operate the keys. She straightened up and instinctively rubbed her wrists to get the feeling back, looking on in shock as Milkweed released the shackles around her feet.<br>
<br>
Once she was free Milkweed stepped back and looked to the orc woman expectantly, "So what's it gonna be?" The huntress looked to Milkweed, then to the ship, then back to the Grotto and all of Landover above. Then, from seemingly nowhere, an impressively loud gurgling noise rung out that almost seemed to echo off the far peaks. Milkweed and the guards looked around for a second to see where the noise came from, but then Milkweed stopped when he noticed the huntress' cheeks start to darken. He looked to her stomach, then grinned when he saw her head fly around to stare him dead in the eyes. She pointed a clawed hand at him and shouted angrily, "UNTIL ya DEAD ratty! Dat's ya deal!" And then she stormed off up the gangplank, screaming her frustrations the whole way up and then back down again below decks, where the sudden sounds of violence and rage scattered any wayward ratkin that had any shred of self preservation instinct.<br>
<br>
Milkweed watched her go with amusement. <i>'That went rather well,'</i> he thought to himself as he turned around to look back at the dwarf. His mood fell when he saw the vacant humanoid standing there like a statue. He walked over and began unlocking the dwarf's shackles, who didn't respond in the slightest to his sudden emancipation. With the shackles off Milkweed handed the keys back to one of the guards so he could focus on the broken soul before him. Milkweed reached up and gently grabbed the dwarf's forearm as he spoke, "You heard what I told the orc girl right?" No response. Milkweed tried again, "You're free to go. Or you can work for me for a few years, then you can do as you like. That sound fair?" Complete silence. Milkweed sighed heavily, then motioned for the ratkin guards and directed them to make the dwarf comfortable aboard. They did so, gently guiding the dwarf aboard with no resistance on his part.<br>
<br>
Milkweed shook his head, unsure of what to do with the dwarf in the long term. Then he looked to the pier where his largest acquisition was finally being brought up. The beast was definitely sluggish on whatever cocktail Greemer had made for it, and the beast was staggering around like it was ten drinks under the table. Greemer's thugs were more pulling the ogre than trying to goad it along with pain and threats. Rabbit made his way down the gangplank and stood next to Milkweed, motioning towards the giant as he asked, "So wotcher wanna do with him?" Milkweed didn't take long to respond, he'd already planned ahead for this. "Get him chained up below decks near the ballast, away from any cargo and living things. We'll feed him daily and give him enough booze to put him to sleep each night. After that... Well I'm hoping we'll earn its trust before our stores run dry." Rabbit looked to Milkweed curiously, but he couldn't exactly fault the initial plan. The long term ramifications had him worried though, and he looked to Milkweed with a pointed stare that said more than his words could. Milkweed watched as the ogre was led up the gangplank, causing the wood to groan in protest under its massive weight. He smiled wanly as he tried to alleviate Rabbit's fears, "Worse comes to worse we'll put it down. But until then it'd be mighty handy to have strength like that on our side." Rabbit processed that answer, then nodded his head. It would have to do for now.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
Finally their preparations were complete. All the stores were brought aboard (including some extra when Harkin wasn't looking), all the crew and passengers were as secured as they could be, and the winds were just starting to pick up. Milkweed was on deck making last minute inspections with Rabbit in tow. The sea rats Rabbit had specifically found to crew the ship were standing by, awaiting orders at their stations. After Milkweed made one last round of the ship he nodded his head approvingly to Rabbit. He stood tall and proud, and with as much command as he could muster he made his first order. "Cast off!" Rabbit immediately parroted the command in his large booming voice to the rest of the crew, "Aye, cast off! Raise anchor! Haul in all lines! Heave to ya salty rats!" The gathered ratkin scattered into action, hauling in hawsers and heaving around on the capstan winch to raise the anchor from the bay. Sailors on the dock heaved the mooring lines up towards the rats on deck when commanded. And just like that the <i>Spearhead </i>was underway. Her sails had caught the wind, and she lazily made her way out of the mouth of the port between the jagged rocks that lined the entrance.<br>
<br>
Once they had cleared the bay Rabbit looked to Milkweed expectantly from the helm. "Well Cap'n, ye've kept it secret long enough methinks. What be our headin'?" Milkweed looked out onto the main deck of the ship where practically every ratkin and the orc huntress had decided to watch the launch. They were now all looking to him with anticipation. Milkweed's cheeky smile quietly crept onto his mouth, and he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "Why don't we ask our navigator?" Milkweed looked towards the bow of the ship, completely devoid of anyone since everyone was gathered near the helm in the stern. All eyes looked forward, confused at what Milkweed was implying. Then a sudden gust picked up, impossibly knocking loose one of the forward black sails from its lashing. The wind whipped the sail to and fro, but on its last pass it seemed to tie itself back to its rigging all on its own. And there she was, as if the passing of the sail had conjured her into existence.<br>
<br>
A wave of gasps and exclamations rang out through the crowd as most were awestruck by Fade's appearance. None of them had ever seen a being so elegant, so ethereal, so magical and strange. The huntress in particular was taken aback by her appearance, so much so that she had instinctively grabbed the spear she'd found in the armory below. Rabbit too was struck dumb by Fade, but he was one of the first to recover from the shock. He looked to Milkweed for some kind of clarification, but Milkweed simply pointed towards his fairy. Fade had gracefully turned, seemingly floating in place, and was pointing out to sea in a particular direction. Rabbit saw this and looked to Milkweed, who merely nodded his head. Rabbit nodded in kind, then shouted out his new orders. "Right, 'Elmsman! Come to port! Bearin'..." Rabbit checked the ship's compass next to the wheel to verify Fade's direction. "...Bearin' One One Zero!" The helmsrat gave out a hearty "Aye!" in response, then spun the wheel so the ship came about.<br>
<br>
Milkweed looked on in anticipation. He didn't have a clue where they were heading, but he trusted that it was exactly where they needed to be.<br>
<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Shendorah</span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 22px"><b>Shendoran Wastes</b></span></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span><span style="font-family: 'Warhorse';"><span style="font-size: 18px">Southern Coastline</span></span>​</div><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
<b>Stonemoor's Prosperity</b><br>
Population: 8<br>
Economy: 0<br>
Military Might: 0<br>
Technological Advancements: 0<br>
Citizen Happiness: 5<br>
<br>
Day 10, Month 1, Year 1 of the 501st Convergence Cycle<br>
</div><br>
It had been six days since they left port, and Fade still hadn't taken them out into the open ocean. Milkweed was in his stateroom checking the naval charts with Rabbit, and they were both sure that the vessel was hugging the Shendoran coast. Wherever they were heading it wasn't anywhere south. Milkweed speculated they weren't going to leave the main continent, and that perhaps Fade was leading them around the southern peninsula to reach the northern coast. He couldn't think of anywhere else that was reasonably suitable for their kind that wasn't claimed by some other nation or kingdom.<br>
<br>
Then they heard it, a cry from above decks. The two ratkin looked to each other, then bolted out the door to see what was happening. Other ratkin had come up as well from below, and once outside they could clearly hear the sounds from crow's nest. "LAND HO!" Milkweed headed up to the bow and stood next to Fade, who hadn't dropped her arm once since she'd started guiding the ship. Milkweed looked on, completely confused as to why they were pulling in now. They still hadn't even left the Shendoran island. Where had Fade brought them?<br>
<br>
The rising sun began to part the morning fog on the water, and in the distance an outline of land could be seen. Craggy mountains off in the far distance, and a coastline slowly taking shape. Sagging trees with gnarled roots that reached down, not through soil but still water. Rocks and other detritus jutted from the shoal water, with a cloying stillness hanging in the air. And above it all was the unmistakable silhouette of a giant pillar made of black stone.<br>
<br>
Milkweed was dumbfounded. He turned to look to Fade but found that she had already evaporated without a trace. Then he looked back and saw that all eyes were on him. There was confusion, resentment, fear, and an underlying current of anger coming from the crowd. Rabbit too was looking to Milkweed with a disapproving glare. This was <i>not</i> what anyone had in mind. The Spire was the sole landmark of a cursed bog, the site of countless failed cultures from every corner of western Aldelor. Milkweed had promised a home, and instead he gave them a swamp.<br>
<br>
Doubt and fear welled in Milkweed's heart. He didn't know what Fade was playing at, but he hadn't expected anything like this. And yet, the more he thought about it, the more confident he felt in his actions. He'd brought an entire ship of hopefuls out into the unknown. A gaggle of strangers had banded together under a common cause and had become friendly in doing so. They were a group now, a collective, a community. And it was going to be Milkweed's job to lead them and keep them motivated through the trials to come.<br>
<br>
Milkweed puffed out his chest and spoke boldly, surprising even himself with how far his voice reached. "This is where we build our home. Together, we'll make this work." A calm wind blew from the bow of the ship, a warm breeze that seemed to calm Milkweed's nerves. And as he watched the gathered souls before him, he noticed that they too seemed to be calmed by the wind. Milkweed looked behind him and just barely caught Fade's outline floating above the waves before she vanished from sight. Milkweed turned back and saw that the anger had mostly melted, but the trepidation remained.<br>
<br>
Rabbit made his way through the crowd and stood at the bow with Milkweed, looking out at their intended destination. "So... We make berth 'ere?" Milkweed looked on as well, nodding towards the larger buck's statement. Rabbit sighed loudly, then hiked up his pants and cracked his knuckles. "Well... leastways we won't 'ave to fight no one fer it." Milkweed couldn't help but laugh at the macabre truth of Rabbit's words.<br>
<br>
The albino, former assassin and now unofficial leader, looked on to the horizon with hope in his heart. They would either make this work, or die trying.<br></li></ul>
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px">Vethenia</span><br>
Day 1, Month 1 of the Year in the 501st Convergence Cycle.</span><br>
<a href="https://www.rpnation.com/attachments/527756/" target="_blank">View attachment 527756</a><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 16<br>
Economy: 2.5<br>
Military Might: 9<br>
Technological Advancements: 15<br>
Citizen Happiness: 7<br>
</div></div>Herphaeus stood in silence as the argument about life and death went on. He would've spoken in favour of Kul'tir, as his nation did play a huge role in Vethenia's unification. Steeling himself for the inevitable hostile response, he took a step forward, and prepared to speak. However, a jab, followed by a disapproving look from Messaline stopped him. Her looks told him everything that he needed to know, that it's probably for the best that he just let the argument play out.<br>
<br>
Then, the mediator had spoken against Kul'Tir's fairy. Apparently, she made an inappropriate comment against another ruler, although he didn't see said ruler anywhere nearby. Peculiar, that a fairy would arrive at the convergence without a ruler, and it doesn't seem like it was one of those rulerless fairies that roam the realm. Perhaps said ruler is elsewhere,  dealing with other rulers in matters of diplomacy. It also seems like the nation of Trotopolis would really like to stay out of this issue, Herphaeus made a mental note about it, just in case it might prove useful in the future. However, he decided to not ponder further and focus on his own matters instead.<br>
<br>
The man stood silent for a moment, waiting for the tensions to pass before he finally approached Kul'Tir, for he had matters to discuss with the undead monarch.<br>
<br>
"Lord Kul'Tir, I believe that we have a few matters we have to discuss today, for the joint benefit of our nations."<br>
<div style="text-align: center"><span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span>​</div><a href="/members/karcen.15381/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="15381" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId136">
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<b><i>61 posts until the next Convergence</i></b></div>
				
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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><b>ARRAN'AK</b><br>
<br>
<b>Day 2, Month 1, Year 1, 501st Convergence Cycle </b><br>​</div><div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"> <b>Nation's Stats</b><br>
Population: 15<br>
Economy: 8<br>
Military Might: 19<br>
Technological Advancements: 12<br>
Citizen Happiness: 8<br>
</div><br>
Kul'tir was glad to have a friendly voice speak up as the others were remaining to the side, Kul'tir was aware there was a line drawn . Those that would believe as the fairy, that undeath was not life and those that would accept that life continued for long as you continued to experience things. Kul'tir found that undeath was an extention of life, a putting off of death and perhaps a complete refusal; but not even the eternal planned to rule forever. Either way it seemed that the first country had decided to in a way declare for him over the sinister fairy. Herphaeus  could be counted on as an ally, not only had the undead helped in his countries creation, but the man himself seemed open to other definitions of life. There was a large distance between Arran'ak and Vethenia , something that would need to be fixed by an expansion from coast to cost of his landmass. The various lesser kingdoms, many without a fairy, were no where near the area he would need so little fuss would be put up.  With cities on both coasts  shipping times could be cut down until his air ships were completed then the reliance on the sea would be lessened. <br>
<br>
" <b><span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)">Of course my friend</span></b>" Kul'tir said turning back to a friendly person almost grandfatherly in his warmth " <b><span style="color: rgb(147, 101, 184)">What is the venture you wish to discuss?</span></b>" He asked.</div>
				
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	<div class="message-userContent lbContainer js-lbContainer " data-lb-id="post-9527564" data-lb-caption-desc="Nyq · Feb 24, 2019 at 2:36 AM">

		

		
	


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					<div class="bbWrapper"><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman'"><span style="font-size: 26px">Vethenia</span><br>
Day 1, Month 1 of the Year in the 501st Convergence Cycle.</span><br>
<div class="bbcode-side bbcode-side-left"><br>
Population: 16<br>
Economy: 2.5<br>
Military Might: 9<br>
Technological Advancements: 15<br>
Citizen Happiness: 7<br>
</div>Herphaeus felt a sense of relief upon Kul'Tir's friendly response to his words. He had feared that the heated argument just minutes prior might had negatively affected the ruler of Arran'ak's mood, which would most certainly lead to less desirable outcomes. Fortunately, that seems to not be the case. Reassured, the nominal ruler of all of Vethenia voiced out his requests.<br>
<br>
"Ah, yes. Vethenia would like to establish a formal embassy in Arran'ak, as well as hosting an intellectual exchange between our nations. This could only benefit the development of the arts and sciences in both of our lands. What do you say of this proposal, Lord Kul'Tir?"<br>
<br>
Herphaeus then stood silent, and waited for a response from his counterpart.<br>
<span class="horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule bbcode-horizontal-rule- "></span>​</div><a href="/members/karcen.15381/" class="avatar avatar--xxs" data-user-id="15381" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" id="js-XFUniqueId145">
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<b><i>59 posts until the next Convergence</i></b></div>
				
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