Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

We've started already.
You could join if we restart for any reason.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

You took the porn off??? That's your problem! After all the months of Online time, the millions of lira, it brings very bad fortune to simply delete it. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif

Do you now have a cradlez14.map and cradlez14.tga file in your (hypothetical) "C:\program files\dominions2\maps" directory? And check the contents of the cradlez14.map to make sure the "#imagefile" entry line also says cradlez14.tga

Hope this helps.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Cainhill....
Play Mictlan. It'll be fun and I can't program my way out of a paper bag. PM me for Password.
-Yc

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Something like....
Can't open /.maps/cradlez14.tga
http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/skull.gif

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Aha, of course! That will be the problem. Thanks, Cainehill!

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Yellowcactus, you are uncompressing the files first, right?

Hey, I just realized something! Even if you follow Zapmeister's instructions to
the letter, you will still not be able to create new games with the cradle map
on your PC. Do not worry about that. The point is to be able to play the
Yarnspinners game on Mosehansen, right? Do this:

1. Download cradle.zip from http://www.illwinter.com/dom2/maps.html
2. Download http://www.techno-mage.com/~zen/zencradle.zip
3. Extract cradle.map from cradle.zip into [your dom2 dir]\maps
4. Rename cradle.tga to cradlez14.tga
5. Extract zencradlev14.map from zencradle.zip into [your dom2 dir]\maps
6. Rename zencradlev14.map to cradlez14.map
7. Change the line "#imagefile cradle.tga" to "#imagefile cradlez14.tga"
8. Connect to mosehansen.dk, port 2292.
9. If you get booted, come here and tell me I don't know what I am talking about

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Caelum, Turn 0

“... the watchtower's gate came crashing down before the vine ogres' onslaught.
All that remained between the nation of Caelum and oblivion were two handfulls
of warriors under the command of an young storm general. They had little hope
they would see another dawn, but they wanted to die under the open sky, and
sallied out. Arrows did little to the creatures, and the general was about to
lead his spearmen into a final charge when he heard shouts from the enemy rear.

The concentration of the bloodhedge druids wavered as their escorts swarmed
around a hazy shape. The general saw his chance, flew over the disoriented
vine creatures and dove through a gap in the bodyguards’ ranks. Only a moment
passed before the brightest of his men followed, and soon no enemy commander
lived. Deprived of magical leadership, the vine constructs stood in place,
and did nothing as they were taken apart by the vengeful warriors.

The general walked to the thickest cluster of vine ogres. He had to use his
blade to hack his way to the center of the pile-up, fully expecting to find
the mangled body of his unexpected ally...”

From ‘Reign of the Ghost King’


Caelum: Turn 1

I feel like a fraud. My only consolation is that, no matter how ridiculous
the whole charade seems to me, life in Caelum has gotten quite a bit better
in the past month. The lands near the watchtower are safe and orderly, the
serfs have stopped looking over their shoulders and jumping at their own
shadows... Hard as it may be to believe, they seem to be almost happy to be
paying taxes, or at least, that there is someone to actually collect them.

One has to wonder, how did things get so out of control? Do small folks
truely need leaders that are somehow different? Well, I cannot claim that I
understand exactly who or even what I am, but I am different enough. And that
officer from the watchtower is certainly eager enough to tell everyone how I
have returned to lead the nation of Caelum to glory and prosperity. He
certainly makes a better preacher than he is a general - people have started
calling him a prophet, and he has thrown together some silly shrine at the
site of that first battle. He took my lack of wings in stride, and to hear
him tell it, I used to serve as an elite temple guard, died heroically in some
great battle ages ago, and came back in this hour of hardship. I think he has
come to believe his own yarns.

I certainly don’t. My first memory is of finding myself in the middle of the
battle at the watchtower, and who knows what I would have done had the vine
ogres not taken away any choice I may have had. But even then, I knew a few
cantrips from wildly different magic paths – nothing truly impressive, but
also nothing a temple guard would know.

I have decided that it does not matter. People believe they need me, and I
hardly see myself looking for some forsaken ruin to haunt. I would much
rather spend some time in a well-lit library, and see whether the spellbooks
can stir my memory. I wonder whether I can find someone to help me with this.
After all, Caelum is supposed to have the best mages in the world. They have
obviously gone to ground in the recent troubles, but I’ll put the word out,
and maybe someone will show up.

I’ll have the storm general take care of this. I am sure that I will see him
in the library. He has been going through the old religious tomes, looking for
any references to male priests. I can’t see why it matters – as far as I’m
concerned, his priesthood, much like my supposed divinity, is mostly a matter
of belief. At least, while he’s reading, he is not embarassing me with his
prayers.

Speaking of embarassment and believers, some shady character has been hanging
around. He must have been in the watchtower when the vine ogres attacked,
and had the guts to pick up an ice blade and join the fray. I am pretty sure
that he used to be a thief, but now he has found religion, and wants to make
himself useful. I’ll send him to the nearby port in Mukhtadir and ask him to
keep his ears open. If the rumors are true, the recent troubles were not
confined to Caelum. While we may have secured the nearby lands, strife and
conflict have a way of boiling over and scalding everyone nearby.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Now that the first yarn has been submitted (thanks Tuidjy) it might be a good time to clarify what I had in mind for the yarns.

Firstly, I don't want to limit anyone. If you want to write an epic a la Tolstoy, go ahead. However, I won't allow anyone to submit yarns in advance so everything you write here before turn 1 executes counts only as your yarn for turn 1 (nothing was required for turn 0, pretender submission).

As a guide, if Tuidjy had broken his text (including "turn 0") into instalments, he had enough material for about 4 turns.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

While maybe not required, I'm ok with having people write back story for their god and/or nation. I think it adds flavor and this game is all about flavor!

I like mine with a little garlic salt.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Abysia turn 1:

Change was in the air, rolling over the dust and the sand, kicking up swirling devil's in its wake, touching and caressing the countryside. Lounging on the couch drowsing out the noonday heat Lillith felt the change and knew it for what it was. Long years had she spent in this place, living off the gold of those too weak to keep it, and the spiced and firey blood of the natives. Long years of boredom and leisure without a single challenge in any of the centuries of recent memory. But now that had changed, the power that had kept the world so wretchedly peaceful and stable for eons was gone. Utterly and untraceably gone.

Considering her options Lillith smiled, though these people were by any sort of measure many degrees too hot for her liking, their magicians were powerful, their hearts full of faith, their blood strong. They would do quite nicely as her conquering host as soon as she replaced the weakening king and sent her thralls out to the masses to preach word of her power. Looking around her she considered the sprawling metropolis that would soon be the center of her empire. She considered and her smile was certainly the coldest thing for leagues in any direction.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Sent a message or two to Yellow Cactus - hopefully sie gets the game working right with the maps and all.

Failing that, if YC (don't eat the yellow cactus) bows out, I'll bow in with my first ever Mictlan game. If so, I may have to do a first tale slightly stale.

But hopefully, the Cactus is running right now, and I don't have to either bend a knee or collar a Lilith. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Ermor: Turn 1

There is a tomb in Kisir Dagri, sealed by powers long forgotten and dead. A hero's tomb it is, for a hero lies buried within, yet sealed it was in fear, for the noble hero was misunderstood, and fear of the unknown is ever the death of the wise.

This tomb is my home now for aeons, and the race that imprisoned me must have followed the path of all that is living long ago, the path I denied to guide my steps. And I know that my imprisonment is coming to an end, for I hear the sound of scraping and the mutter of incantations, and I know that my time has come.

The moonlight hurts what remains of my eyes, but the sight is a welcome one, for one not unlike me welcomes me to the world of the living. Angmar his name is, and I name him General of my armies to come. The ruined keep of an ancient civilization is seized and a hall of rituals and worship is erected, for in the tomb's silence I have pondered long upon the way of faith, and have deemed it a suitable weapon to have my revenge.

A nearby village provides pitiful taxes, and thus Angmar's first task is to wipe it out, looking for valuables with which to pay mortal followers, for those alive are easily seduced by greed or faith, and I intend to use both.

For I am Noth, the Terror of the Tomb, and I will bring the world the enlightenment I have discovered.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Everyone's undead, and everyone's a writer. I understand that sitting in a tomb with nothing to do does that to an immortal. How am I to compete with this? But no worries, by turn 60, I'll have you all safely back in the grave! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif

--- Vanheim I ---

The big weenie in the sky is gone, good riddance! Not a moment too soon, either… A few more years of peace and tedium, and I would have probably slit my own veins. Or more likely, I would have rode up to His Supreem Dullness, and stuck a spear in his enormous gut… a much classier way to end it all. But enough about the past! There is a bright and bloody future ahead of me. The people of Vanheim may have forgotten me, but there is nothing like being trod on by an giant, eight-legged horse to stir one’s memory.

It’s true that they have grown a bit too soft for my liking, and what the hell is up with the hummies no longer enslaved and even allowed to lead troops? The only Vanir I could root out has barely heard about air magic, and would not know a sacrificial virgin if she bled all over him. I may be able to use him for shuffling troops around, but first I will stick his nose inside a grimoire for a month or two, while I figure out whether his brain was missing at birth, or whether it atrophied from disuse.

It may take some time to hammer these slackers into a weapon I can use. But I have waited centuries for a chance to start a good gory war, and I’m not going to show up on the battelfield with an escort of under-educated fools and peace-loving sissies. I could brush up on some spells myself, come to think about it… But first, I think I will go trample some infidels. I’m back, and everyone better believe it!

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

--Atlantis--

In the northern seas, beneath the eternal song of the tranquil waves exists a pearl of a kingdom. Beyond the reach of the land dwellers, hiding in the shadows of R'yleh, the Atlantean kingdom flourishes.

Between magnificent buildings of rock and coral, citadels, towers and castles cometh the great Kraken, lord of all he surveys, master of Atlantis and holder of the royal sceptre.

From his perch atop the tallest tower in the city of Atlantis, he oversees the rule of the King. For now, the people of Atlantis will learn to serve their new master, and should he prove to be as powerful as he seems, they will be lead to great endeavors never before dreamed of by these humble people.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

--Mictlan--

Far within the North-Horslund lay the valleys of Mictlan. An ancient people, fearful of the eternal, this empire has been thrown into chaos as it's devote priests turn upon citizens in grotesque blood sacrifices.

From village to walled-city, the peoples of North-Horslund find sanctuary within the dominion of Sethra, Lady of Fevor. Templerate orders begin to stir, forming fanatical units of faithful servants.

Old beyond time, the Lady Sethra courts priest and king alike. Many tribe take refuge here as the 'Age of Ascension' begins.
-Yc

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Spring, Year 1.

I tell you what. Ten thousand years in the crypt will give you such a headache.

Seems like it was only Last millenium that I was out and about, playing with my ant farm, playing with my spider farm, and then there was that time when the spiders got into the ant farm... well, you can't win 'em all. Of course when you're the king, it's all life size.

I'm not going to get into just how I went from the Spider King, to TEN THOUSAND YEARS in a HARD STONE TOMB with NO PILLOWS. They think just because a guy's dead, more or less, he doesn't need the comforts of life any more. I'm going to have to give my followers a little education in ceremonial burial. I should have ruled C'tis. Now there's some lizards who really know how to lay a guy to rest, I tell you what.

Anyway, things don't move so fast, when you're in a tomb. And uncomfortable as it may have been, it does have some comforts. It's got a movie theater. You know I spent the Last thousand years, just watching Gigli?

Or maybe that only seemed like a thousand years.

Going to go out for a bit. Have to teach some witch doctors to read, and tell some bureaucrats not to take any wooden nickels. This could take a while.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

In His House at R'lyeh dead Cthulu waits dreaming (1)

Aeons pass. We dream of many things. Of the home-that-was amongst the stars, and the home-that-will-be when this world is harnessed to Our will. Of things un-named, and Presences unnameable; inhabitants of the great Void. Of places that existed once, or that only exist within the compass of Our dreams. And of the Great Old Ones.

The spheres turn, the constellations change, and the old power returns. Our dreams grow strong. We break the bonds of the One who bound us to this dead form, then banish it from this world; Our world. The stars are right. Cthulu will return, clothed in new form, to walk the earth once more.

It is Our time.

...you know, you can't leave the Starspawn alone for five minutes. We come back from a quick nap and find the place overrun with Atlanteans. They make poor slaves, useless soldiers, and they don't even taste very nice. And what's this business about breeding with Humans? Yech. It's clearly time to clean house and get things organised. Our world awaits.


(1) For further source material please see Cthulu Returns!

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Out-of-character note: I'm competitively-minded enough to not feel comfortable posting about what I'm doing until after a turn's been executed. So all my story Posts are going to be about what happened Last turn. Is this what everyone's doing? Or will be reading a bunch of parallel out-of-sequence AARs? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif

Mark

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

I tend to agree with you on this point. But I'm not really playing this game to be competitive, so I'm satisfied either way.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 1 ----

Pandokos of Pagasae here displays his inquiry, so that human achievements may not become forgotten in time, and great and marvelous deeds may not be without their glory.

Spring, Year 12

The butter is missing again.

The locals in these parts insist that some mythical creature steals it away in the night, but I've found perfectly human footprints in the dirt around my stores on many mornings. When I catch the thief, he will pay. It is bad enough that I am thousands of miles from home in a muddy encampment at the foot of the mountains, surrounded by barbarians with no sense of propriety or reason. It is bad enough that our weapons, after years of campaigning, are dull, and that our armor is in such dire straits that yesterday I caught myself gazing enviously at the children in the street, clad in cooking pots too elderly to be trusted with the food anymore.

It is bad enough that I am forced to make do with these lousy local recruits, as the real soldiers, fellow citizens who have suffered together on this god-forsaken campaign, are stretched thin by the petty fighting we must do in order to keep the locals mollified with our continued presence.

But the worst of it - at least, that is how it seems now, facing my breakfast - is that instead of dining on fresh grapes and succulent olives, plucked from branches tossed in a sea breeze, I am forced to subsist on a diet of strange vegetables and rotten bread. And now I do not even have butter for it.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

I'll be treating it as if writing a real AAR: While trying to maintain my plotline, I'll tell of things I intend to do, with a few brief descriptions of why I do so... since direct competition isn't exactly what the game is about, me thinks. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif If this helps you exterminating my Ermor by turn 20, I was probably proven wrong, but so be it. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif


On a side note: Unfortunately, I might stale the next turn. I hope I won't, but the timelimit is nearly exactly the time I am gone for this prolonged weekend... So you know I don't drop out. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

The Kingdom of the Vale, Man: Early Spring

"As the zephyr comes, so does it leave, unexpected and uncaring."

A flicker of light, and the hussle of wings. It was all that hinted at the presence of Ilneoa within the camp, but the impression it made on the soldiers were strong enough. Thus did she inspected the army quickly gathered among commoners and green warriors; her army nonetheless, protecting her life and her lands. Precious few of her men had ever taken the life of a foe, but this would come, as surely as summer wanes when the circle of the year turns around.

The Lady of Avalon had rallied her forces, these children of springtime, as she was asked to by the voices of the wind. "Within the greater cycle, we are nearing the other end of the pendulum, where fates will be mingled and all previous orders will collapse," they claimed. "Against these tides of turmoil, you are to marshall your forces and establish a sanctuary of stability, wherein you will kept the ways of the Vale." And so she obeyed, and could not deny the truth contained in these words. The circles had been broken, and equilibrium was lost. Already the waves of change were coming near, carrying the power to reshape the world.

Alas, much would be lost within this surge of chaos. Another Dark Age could fall on the land, heralding the end of the days of Avalon. The isle was weakening moon after moon, and the numbers of its inhabitants dwindled cycle after cycle. Truly Ilneoa was not from the isle herself, but she came to love its people and eventually remained there, a guide for Avalon, a warden against future.

Few lords gathered to hear her pleas, and many of the shires formerly under the rulership of the Vale seized their independence and threw aside both the old ways and their bonds with Avalon. This thought brought much concern to Ilneoa; a diminished Avalon, divided into several smaller islands, could not survive the tide, but why would these earls and other peers of the realm secede from the cradle whence they come from? The army gathered under her windows would face the unfortunate tudy of bringing anew the might of the Vale, for division offered no hopes of survival. Already bowmen were practicing their craft, in expectation of the battles that woud follow. One of their arrows shot down a crimson leave from a tree, an omen of the tomorrows to come.

Re: Yarns and too much (dis)information
 

I'm with Karacan on this one. I will be writing reports for the current turn,
talking both about what happened at the beginning of the turn, and the orders
that I am giving. I may choose to omit some particularly important clue, like
'I'm cloud-trappezing seven Seraphs on top of Abysya's VQ', but there will be no
deliberate disinformation. By the way, even when I omit information, I will try
to explain it in game-universe terms the next turn. Don't you hate it when some
Seraphs fresh out of boot camp get drunk and decide to go to hunting?

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 2 ----

I really hate this country.

I went to see the village leaders after the seventh dawn on which the butter had gone missing. In a diplomatic but (I thought) firm way, I recommended they teach their children some respect for the soldiers who defend them from occasional invaders, and muck out stables the rest of the time, and how if our foodstuffs continued to be stolen we would be forced to ask the Golanans (a hated neighboring tribe) if they desired a cheap band of soldiers. I expected them to vigorously deny everything, or plead with me to stay, or at least acknowledge my complaint.

But no: as soon as they understood what I was saying, a great cheer erupted from the onlookers, and the leaders began smiling and chattering excitedly, clapping me on my back as if I had just announced that a volcanic eruption had wiped out Golana.

"But what about my butter?" I asked Balachandra, a young man who as a boy had spent time in our camps and had recently become a local magician of sorts. He usually helped me make sense of local activities, but now he was as inscrutably enthused as the rest of his cursed countrymen. He grinned broadly, and announced to the crowd, "Pandokos wants more butter!" to which they responded with more cheering, and a bit of singing. Some maidens began to dance, and the mob descended into revelry.

Seeing that it was hopeless, and in no mood to join the festivities, I decided to go home and try again the next day. But they would not let me leave. An old lady rushed in front of Xanthos, startling him considerably, and fell to her knees, crying out loudly. The tight crowd forced me to dismount and walk around the old woman, but people kept pressing close to me and murmuring. A few milkmaids giggled about how the butter thief was welcome at their homes any time, and more than one mother pushed forward a screaming child, as if my armor were somehow blessed, and not smelling rather strongly of manure.

The next morning, I was awoken early by the sound of the murmuring. When I emerged, the crowd, several score strong, gave a great cheer. They came to catch the thief, I thought momentarily, pleased that I had gotten through after all. But no: my daily ration of butter was completely gone, and there were numerous buttery handprints all around my window.

"Did you at least see who it was?" I growled at the crowd, some of whom appeared to have been there since nightfall. Balachandra laughed, and said, "Of course, of course, didn't you?" and began leading the mob in a bizarre sort of chant.

At which point I decided that I would go back to sleep, in the hopes that when I woke up the world would make sense again.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

--Abysia turn 2--


The city was ever so slowly starting to wake up, like a drunk coming out of an overlong stupor. Mutterings and incantations could be heard from the wizards tower again, the smithy hammers were clanging again, the giant waterwheels of the mills were turning again, and men once more moved with a sense of purpose. And everywhere there was Vaphoron, telling anyone who would listen that their new Queen was no mere mortal, but the incarnation of the One Goddess herself! Vaphoron was truly one gifted with words and many a heart did he sway... though in darker circles it was sometimes said he was gifted with daggers as well. But one had only to be in the presence of the new Queen (who was swiftly elected by the council after the rather sudden retirement of the King... and do Kings really 'retire' anyway?) to feel that She was something beyond ordinary. The sight of Her lofting through the air towards the castle and the quiver of excitement, lust, and fear it sent through all who viewed it swayed even more hearts that Vaphoron's clever tounge.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

When is zapmeister going to award points? At the end of it all?

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

A running total of points for story text is maintained in the first post of this thread. Points for score graphs will be awarded at the end of the game.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---Mictlan 2---
(Accounts of a warrior-slave)

Three pillars, carved of ancient Oak, were sunken today. Planted deep into the barren salt flats near Bestula. For nearly a season we've labored here. Preparing the alter of Sethra 'the Lustful Mother of us all!' to recieve infernal courtship. So now we wait, shivering upon these cold plains for that which SHE calls 'Bune'. Tents stand against the salty sands, and supply wagons roll in weekly, bearing news of Mother Sethra's glorious Ascention. Sometimes I wander what a 'Bune' is....but Lord Templar Ninamous seems confident enough something will come through eventually.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Ermor: Turn 2

Angmar, my army's general, has returned successfully from the village near my tomb. A little bloodshed was required to part the villagers from their valuables, but noone who was not expendable was damaged, and the corpses will serve my purposes well. The surviving villagers are apparently unhappy, but they will soon see the wisdom of my way.

Already my wealth has attracted a band of willing followers. Magnus' Crossbows has arrived in front of my dark keep, willing to fight for me as long as I am willing to pay them.

Magnus brings with him rumours from distant lands, and they tell of the rising of false gods and the fools that worship them. In Abysia, Arcoscephale and Caelum, words of false faith are spread with enthusiasm by false and powerless prophets. Only I know what is good for the world, and the world hear only me.

My spies and scouts also finally deliver the reports of the nearby provinces' military strengths, and after some consideration I decide to send Angmar and the mercenaries into a rich farmland province, while I myself conduct a ritual of my ancient home, calling an elder spirit skilled in magic to my aid.

It is time for battle, for I am Noth, Lover of War.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

--- Vanheim II ---

One thing’s for sure. If I need the enemy thoroughly counted, I have the man for it. I sent a scout north to see how the local toughs feel about joining my glorious campaign… It seems that they were more interested in archery practice. My guy had to dodge some arrows, but he managed to get a good feel for the enemy’s numbers. Hell, he actually got an exact count. I would have preferred a few ears, and I would have settled for a lower count. Sixty seven men under arms, and even the archers are better armoured than anyone under my command. I am not sending troops in there. Green as my men are, they are bound to be decimated…

It’s a big cosmic joke. It seems that one of the things I taught them has stuck – everyone and his grandmother thinks he's a competant navigator. So, of course, every province near Vanheim has a port, and a sizable city that must have grown around it. Oh, and a sizable group of well-equipped, mounted mercenaries guarding it. As much as I hate to admit it, my own troops are a joke compared to what surrounds us.

I am not getting enough recruits, and news of my return are not spreading as fast as I would like it. The one decent wizard that showed up has a hard time bending the knee. I had hoped that he would become my prophet, but he remains unconvinced. I know one way, but then I would have to raise him, and frankly, I do not like undead. He spends all his time in the library, looking for who knows what.

This whole ascension business will be more challenging that I thought.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Caelum, Turn 2


I had hoped that I would find in Caelum the peace that I was denied in the
grave. It was not meant to be. Our little nation is an island of calm in the
middle of a sea of turmoil. As my self-proclaimed prophet spreads the word of
our achievements, pilgrims from the nearby provinces flock to the temple. They
bear grim news. Ruthless warlords, fanatic tribal chiefs, and hedge wizards
have gathered bands of brigands and unemployed mercenaries, and have
proclaimed themselves lords of nearby lands. They take anything they like from
the small folks, and drown any protests in blood.

Not a day goes by without some dust-covered traveler asking for our help. The
stories are similar, but every new one makes it harder for me to ignore the
pleas. I am not sure why, but I am starting to feel reponsible to those who
place their faith in me and my followers. The Prophet feels the same, I think.
He is preparing for a journey to the south – he hopes to sway the local warlord
into aligning himself with us. I am worried about the boy. He is taking only
a few warriors as an escort, fearing to give offense or to appear threatening.
He says that his faith will be his shield, but I know that I am no deity, and
am very glad he is taking his ice aegis with him.

While he is gone, his place in the library will be taken by an Arch Seraph that
recently joined us. He is very old, and remembers the glory days of Caelum. I
think he offered his services because he thought that we have a chance to
restore order and peace in the former imperial lands. Somehow, I appreciate
his trust a lot more than any blind belief, no matter how ardent. I am quite
impressed with the old guy. He is a master of air magic and quite comfortable
with water and nature. It is strange, though, that once he manages to teach me
any spell, I am able to cast it with less strain and more power than he does.
He is firmly convinced that I have great potential, and insists we concentrate
on Alteration spells. Supposedly, these will help keep me around long enough
to come into my power, which he insists is considerable.

Unfortunately, I am not the only one. All across the world, beings of unusual
power have arisen, and are expanding their spheres of influence. Liches,
vampires, ancient gods and ambitious titans, they all seek to forge empires.
Maybe I am worrying for nothing - they may be driven by their believers’ best
interests, and yearn for peace and prosperity, just as I do.

I certainly hope so...

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Late Spring, year 1.

One thing about spending a couple of millenia in the tomb, you develop a little different perspective on things.

This month my tax collectors did their best to fill the treasury with gold and silk. Here in Machaka, of course, we have plenty of silk. But gold is always in short supply.

A tribal queen, the Sorceress Nusurika, was enlisted to assist in this activity, as well as rituals of dark magics, dust and smoke and bones. But while preparing her kindling for some magical experiment, the tinderbox fell on the urn of incense, shattering it and spilling the magical essence across the floor.

Now, everyone knows the thing to do when you have a magical spill, or some other sort of spellcasting misfortune. And what you specifically do NOT do, is run out into the main market, making a scene, and berating the poor potter for his shoddy workmanship. Especially when it turns out that the urn in question was intended only for storage of incense of the ceremonial, not magical, variety. Over time the energies built up and it is no wonder the urn shattered at the slightest provocation. Remember, always store your spell components in the original container, use a child-proof cap, and read the label!

The next thing you know, the entire marketplace had heard of the magical blunder. And thus the word spread, throughout the province, that the wielders of magic in the capital could not tell the difference between ordinary pottery, and the thrice-fired, magic-resistant, ward-inscribed variety.

Back when I was alive, things like this would really get me worked up. But now they pass by. I expect many such things will occur in the future, but wish to expend no energy fighting them. Life, or lack thereof, goes on.

As a final note, the Fates have intervened. The Sorceress was cursed, as were her assistants, for failing to take heed of even basic magical precautions.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Early Summer, year 1.

The events of Last month have reminded me that matters of the spirit are just as important as matters of the arcane. Especially if, as it may happen, there's not much to you BUT spirit.

Those who believe in me have spread the news of my return far and wide, even over the water, and have encountered no believers in rival faiths. But my ravens and parrots have told me that, in fact, there are prophets of false gods afoot in the world, new ones rising every turn. To counter this, Oginga, Voice of the Lord, shall go forth to seek out these false prophets and defeat them by virtue of his eloquent preaching. Or, failing that, by virtue of his eloquent dagger.

This month's focus on religious studies has quieted the populace after the unfortunate events of Last month. However, a fight broke out among some of the more devout templegoers regarding how many Lammashtas can dance on the head of a pin, and whether they would want to. Unfortunately in the ensuing chaos, one of the participants was slain. But because of his great devotion, his spirit was reborn, and will fight to advance the cause. For the record, the answer is six. Hey, a god's got to entertain himself somehow, and it's not like they buried me with a Game Boy Abacus.

I am glad that the people in nearby provinces are so willing to accept the true religion. If only they were not so violent and well-armed.

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I know I am not exactly in advance. *Kicks silly connection*

The Kingdom of the Vale, Spring:

"All archers, draw!" Silbertain, the commander of the Vale forces yelled at his troops. His only merit in the eyes of Ilneoa was his mighty lungs, hardly enough to secure a position as officer by her standards. Still, she surmised his powerful voice would be more helpful to carry out orders or galvanise the troops than the wits he must have left in a cup of ale.

"Fire!" The first volley of arrows flew towards their intended target, but the bowmen were already busy reloading their weapons. "Draw! Fire!" Again the bows sang, but this time more than a few projectiles were off course. "Fire! Pull back! Draw! Fire!" More soldiers failed to send their arrows with any accuracy, and a few could not keep up with the hectic pace imposed by Silbertain. Truly, it did not bode well for the outcome of the battle.

As the archers finished emptying their quivers, Ilneoa came among her defenders. "This is your Last day in the Fair Land; at dusk, you are to move southwards, for the defence of the Vale requires your arms and your strength." Her crystalline voice rang clearly in the camp, but there was still a hint of worry in her words. "But today, you are free to rejoice. Let the feast fill your hearts with gaity, as you deserve no less." Her troops cheered at her proposal, and already drinks and meet were shared freely.

This evening, they would still be spring lads, but on the morrow they would have to face an unknown foe. The southern lands they were attacking were run by a minor lordling, a vassal of the Earl of Syzran. Rumour has it that his county had been overrun by the savage warriors thriving in these barren lands; either way, his estate was surely weakened and unable to repel a major offensive. Thus did her good hearted-men walked at twilight, leaving the bountyful Avalon for the hostile Kostroma.

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Ermor: Turn 3

The attack on Gali went excepetionally well. Rolf Magnus and his mercenaries were worth the investment, as a crossbow bolt immediatley sent one of the defending captains to a wounded retreat. The heavy infantry was made up of braver men than expected, but my fearless followers held them long enough for the crossbowmen's work to be done.

The ritual I cast was a success, and a powerful elder mage named Simith has followed my call to service. He shares my conviction of bringing the ultimate enlightenment into the world, and I will have many a task for him before this is done. For now, he shares the library with me, for there is much lost knowledge to uncover.

Angmar obviously distinguished himself greatly during the battle in Gali, and is now feared in the whole world as a hero and slayer of such.

Seeing that my troops had little difficulty with the heavy infantry , I send them directly to the north, to conquer another promising looking farmland province defended by a mere few slingers. Sometimes I wish I had studied under the ancient forebears of Mictlan, for blood has a powerful attraction of its own, and blood and its otherwise useless vessels are plentiful in my newly formed realm.

Speaking of my realm, I have decided to raise the ancient flag of fallen Ermor as a symbol of fear and power. And so I announce to the world: Ermor has risen again in all its splendor, for I am Noth, Prince of Fever.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

-Abysia turn 3-


Well my military commanders tell me that they have achieved some sort of victory over a great army, no doubt a small group of rabble even more poorly organized than they. Small matter to me i suppose, i have been putting all my energies towards advancing my studies in the arcane arts so that i will no longer have to rely on the frail abilities of mortals to expand my empire. Already i have started forming a small cabal of hedge wizards and diabolists to aid me in my causes. Things go slowly, but they go well, and i posess more than enough patience for the task at hand.

-exerp from the personal writings of the Queen-

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

--Mictlan-- (3)
(Once a Prophet....)

The old god had many prophet. In point of fact Sethra the Lustful Mother was one for ages. Here in the Northern Forests of Mictlan there lay little in the way of Order. Devout cruisaders patrol the lands, bringing all within the yoke of Sethra. Some say the Lustful Mother asks nothing of those within HER dominion. Others feel this growing dominion of Mictlan's Goddess is simple nature at work. One thing is certain...blood pours upon the alters through night and day!
-Yc

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Magnate has kindly offered to take over the administration and judging of this game. If no-one objects, I'll hand over the reins at the weekend.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

If no-one objects, I'll happily take them.

So, scoring is 2 for a decent report, 1 for a report that is too short or long (or dull?!), and 0 for no report. I'll try to be as consistent as possible and not piss anybody off.

I won't actually mark down for errors in grammar or syntax, though the temptation to do so is strong! You'll just have to bear with me on that, it's my favourite subject. (In my country they suddenly stopped teaching grammar in most schools about 12-15 years ago, then they forbade examiners to dock marks for poor grammar or spelling in all subjects other than English Language, then .... [/i][ramble, drone ....][/i])

AFAIU, you've had marks for turns 1 & 2. So I'll be dishing out marks for turn 3 and on .... can somebody tell me which days of the week the turns run? I guess I ought to allow a couple of days for people to write up, and then award the points just before the next turn.

Let me know if that sounds ok ...

CC

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Everyone is supposed to have their story for the current turn done by the time the turn hosts, currently set to twice a week (84 hours). Not sure exactly when the next generation is, I think it is tomorrow.

Currently we are on turn 3, and everyone should have their third chapter posted before the next turn generation.

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R'lyeh - turn 2 (running late...)

...yet He shall rise and His kingdom shall cover the Earth.

You know, that human Lovecraft has a lot to answer for. "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn" indeed! The man couldn't come up with a working transliteration scheme to save his life. Not even when we gave him a second chance...

And while his publicity has attracted a larger number of cultists to Our cause, We do wonder about the type of people they are. When one of Our minions is sent to collect a Cultist who has inevitably meddled in Things he shouldn't have, and instead of running in gibbering fear according to tradition, he'll be found sitting at a desk frantically bashing away at a typewriter as his front door is smashed to flinders. When a tentacle grabs his foot and starts dragging him to certain doom, he will be holding onto the desk with one hand so that he can continue to type his account with the other. And as hungry jaws close about his body, the only vocalisation of the pain and horror he feels is to scrabble for the exclamation mark at the end of "arrrrrgh!" We can't help wondering about the effect on our minions when they are mostly eating the brains of terminally stupid people.

Anyway...

...the stars are right and Our time is here, but We find Our house poorly prepared. Atlantean slaves will not alone conquer the world that is Our right, and Our Starspawn cousins have grown weak and slothful as the aeons passed.

We call forth the power of the Spheres to bring down a flaming meteorite from the heavans. The impact is mighty, and many thousands of slaves die bringing back the molten star-stuff to the city. But what of them? In this We have the means to turn poor Atlantean slaves into invincibly armoured soldiers. We are certain to have need of them.

Meanwhile, leaders of the Illithid are called before Our presence. The strongest minds are selected for instruction. From their number we choose the first of those who will lead Our armies into battle and destroy the minds of Our enemies.

Having dreamed of blasphemous couplings between human and Illithid, We then demand an accounting of their actions while We slept. Hesitating and fearful - as is only right - one of them brings forward a small Illithid-child, strangely deformed-looking. Searching its guardian's memory, We find that the creature was indeed the issue of Illithid breeding with Man.

We are prepared to vent our wrath on the strange child and its perverted parent, but, well, its little tentacles are so cute!. Instead we send it out into the world; if it should prove its worth, the strange creature may be allowed to find its place as one of our minions.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 3 ----

Early summer, year 12 of my exile.

At Last, some good news. Three more hoplites came into town Last week, and I suspect more remnants of the broken taxis will continue to straggle in as they emerge from their winter shelters in a (futile) attempt to find civilization. This means that one-third of my foot soldiers are now non-barbarians, so I have decided that we are strong enough to take on a nearby nest of bandits that the villagers have been harping on us for weeks to attack. Reports indicate that there are almost as many bandit as I have troops under my command, but even my locals, I think, are worth more than these petty thugs, at least after the rigorous training I have put them through.

So there will be some honest fighting, a welcome change from the bizarre events of the Last few weeks, and also some money, because the citizens Skelde Henge have agreed to submit to the direction of the village leaders if we will rid them of the bandits. (Or at least so I have been told.) And there will be no one winking at me, or worse, bowing, no Balachandra or his brother Divakar to chant ridiculous rhymes about me and butter and who knows what else.

If I had known, when I left Pagasae for the Great Campaign so long ago, that one day I would be thousands of leagues from home, scratching battle plans in the mud, in breathless anticipation of a brawl with a bunch of ignorant peasants...

I should be back in a few months. I hope that Thymbre will have returned by then, and I may hear how her journey to learn of quaint local superstitions has fared.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Just my personal opinion, but I think this competition is being too "bland" if the judge(s) continue to refrain from judging the relative "quality" of the yarn. It's like you get 2 points automatically simply for handing in your homework, but there's no effort to differentiate those trying to be really entertaining and those just filling in something for every turn.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Yes, that's down to my laziness, really. I believe the new administrater, Magnate, plans to do a better job.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Interesting - I was very careful in my first post, in case people really didn't want me to judge relative quality. I'm quite happy to be a bit discerning (only 1 point for just filling it in, 2 points if it's good, maybe a rare 3rd point for outstanding) - but please, everybody chip in if they don't like this idea ....

CC

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

P.S. Please, somebody tell me the days on which the turns are run. I'm planning on giving points for turn 3 reports this weekend, on the assumption that turn 4 runs some time Saturday or Sunday. Then you have until the following run (Wed?) to write turn 4's pieces, etc. etc.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Check here on Mosehansen to see when the next hosting is due. I think it hosts thursday/monday. Make your own calculations for your timezone.


As for points, I am pretty certain that everyone included does it for the fun, not for points. That said, I don't mind any incentives for everyone to keep writing their stories... I can't wait until turn 60's culmination. Will puffyn locate the missing Holy Butter? Will Lillith the Damned get bored with her new playthings? Will the Ghost of the Wingless finally find the rest he doesn't deserve? Yeah, I read 'em. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif

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Ermor: Turn 4


Astara's invasion was a successful one, as well, despite heavy resistance. A group of mages was assisting the villagers in their province's defense, and accompanying them was a beast I thought long extinct, a man with a bull's head who cut through Angmar's legions like flies.

Yet my followers prevailed, for neither fear nor terror is known to them, and the man-beast was finally slain like his masters, though not without losses.

Still, I am confident that the remains of my troops are capable of handling the provincal resistance they will encounter further to the north, and there is no rest for my army of the fallen, for now that the failings of the flesh rot from their bones, they have surpassed the pitiful limitations of mere mortals.

Impressed by my general's efforts, Caractor, an ancient Censor of fallen Ermor has decided to join my crusade, for his cause is not unlike mine. He, too, seeks to bring the wisdom of the other side to mortals, albeit for his own reasons. As long as he follows my rule, though, I could not care less of his motives.

My coffers are spilling, and I decide to renew the contract with the mercenary Rolf Magnus who served me surprisingly well for a creature that still clings to this illusionary life. I think my offer is to his liking, and I would be very surprised should he rethink his allegiances. One day, his use for me will cease, but it isn't now, and when that day comes, the caste of clerics I intend to create will have further uses for his corpse.

For I am Noth, the Prince of Famine, and the hunger I arouse is of greed and blood.

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---- Arcoscephale, Turn 4 ----

I think it is still summer... it has been hard, convalescing in this dark tent, to keep track of the days... it is painful to see my previous words of optimism and I would feel cursed by the gods had I not long since stopped believing in them. Perhaps I do not like to think what terrible deeds I am being punished for. So hard to think I was once an eager file leader... how bright Alexandros's armor was, his dream, and ours, of glorious victory in a far off land.

Poor Xanthos. I do not know what strange thoughts entered his mind as we approached the brigand lair. I saw their number was not great, and given my soldiers' skill knew we would prevail. My soldiers... my soldiers were brilliant... they kept their formation, and would have slain all our foe if only... But Xanthos, my faithful steed and companion... Perhaps he wanted to run free over the open plains -- it was such a fine summer day -- or perhaps he had simply tired of all this war and wanted to die with honor and glory. He would not hear my shouts to stay behind the hoplites, much as I begged him, and he rushed past the front file into the middle of the brigand mob.

What happened next is a blur... I recall one, perhaps two brigands fell beneath Xanthos' hooves (I had no time to draw my sword)... I recall a hail of javelins as my troops tried in vain to scare the brigands away from me and my wild steed. And a sword struck Xanthos, and again, and I fell into darkness.

My men thought I was dead. I heard later that a band of locals rushed out, and three died while the rest dragged me to safety. My hoplites held firm our retreat; they are Greeks. Would that they had a worthier commander... but they will not hear such talk from me. They regard my charge as heroic, and declare that fighting beside me raises their spirits.

It is odd to hear them talk this way, because the villagers have ceased their incessant bowing and butter songs, and once again ignore me. The talk these days is of a great battle that took place near the town of Bolfar. My soldiers swear that none of them went out there to fight, and yet the town pledges allegiance to us, and sends us gold and supplies. The villagers have come up with a new dance, in which they kick one leg and flail their arms. I doubt this would make sense even if I were well.

My butter has not been stolen once since I returned, but I do not have the stomach for it. I wonder what this means.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

I agree with Noth, writer of Posts.

This game is all about the stories, rather than "points" or "winning" or other linear, western concepts like having your narrator actually survive long enough to establish a consistent voice.

On a related note: I recently read this AAR and thought that it would be nice to have some maps for our game. Obviously posting pictures of the maps while the game is in progress is a little too revealing, but perhaps everyone could make screenshots (or just a copy of their turn) every five turns. Then, when the game is over, someone could make complete situation maps every 5 turns and edit them into the thread for posterity.