Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Hi PashaDawg,

Always good to hear from a loyal reader http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif The game is going pretty well, so long as you're not Mictlan or Atlantis right about now... For your viewing pleasure, I'm attaching some of the more relevant score graphs (provinces, gem income, research, and army size). I suspect that with all the wars breaking out now these rankings are going to fluctuate wildly, so stay tuned.

<img src=http://www.shrapnelcommunity.com/threads/download.php?Number=329111>

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

<img src=http://www.shrapnelcommunity.com/threads/uploads/329112-gem.jpg>

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

<img src=http://www.shrapnelcommunity.com/threads/download.php?Number=329114>

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

<img src=http://www.shrapnelcommunity.com/threads/download.php?Number=329115>

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

And if you are Man, things are going well, thank you very much. For the moment that is, as I am more than a tad bit concerned about the future, with R'lyeh and Caelum as neighbours, and Arcoscephale not so far away.

(This message was incidentally not too useful, but also acts as a check of the "read pointers" thing on the forum)

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Sounds fun. Let me know if you ever decide to start a new Yarn.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

I'd certainly be interested in another yarn... after this one is finished. Two narratives per week are just about all I can manage http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 38 ----

The castle's defenders must have realized that the gate would soon give way; the few starving survivors rushed out and flung themselves on our spear-points to end their misery. Huehueteotl, the prophet, managed to escape, but there's really nowhere for him to hide. We took possession of the fortress and wandered through numerous temples, freeing the slaves, and washing the blood-stained stones. After working through the first three temples I had to get to somewhere without the stench of blood, and I let Wlde lead the clean-up crew into the last, and largest one: the high temple of the sun.

The other triplets send word from the Sinking Land that Limmy appeared to defeat the defending army. Belief in his return is widespread, even among my own troops, and Odysseus and I agree that we will soon have to have a meeting with this pretender. It's not that a little blind faith is so bad for the men (and vine-things and horned serpents). It's just that I would feel better knowing a little more about this warrior's intentions.

Luckily, this mission coincides nicely with my other task: hunting down the crone, Sethra, where she hides in the vast Horslund Forest to the south of this fortress. The mystics will stay here. They plan to rededicate one of the minor temples to the memory of Amshula, and although they remain uncomfortable sitting in the ribcage chairs in the keep's library, I know it is only a matter of time before the sheer number books of magic there will overcome any lingering distaste they may feel about turning pages made of human flesh.

Andromache will come with me. Many of the men who defected to our cause are still wounded, and require her care.

Rumors grow that the rest of the world is at war. I know that the Vanheim to our west are engaged in a mighty battle against the Kingdom of Man. I have exchanged letters with both those leaders, but refuse to get drawn into their squabble. There is another brief note from the Sinking Land to say that the strange creatures of R'lyeh have settled in the lake beside the castle. As we have no use for the lake, and they seem to shun the land, I see no reason why we should not get along. But they are very odd... Still, I will send a messenger to them, offering them peace. Even more distant and fantastical rumors arrive daily. I hardly know which ones to credit. If you believe everything, the residents of the lost island of Atlantis are just about to be wiped out by magma men and these same R'lyeh creatures, and some dark empire of undead is slowly falling to bird-men who wield power over lightning. Like I said, it is hard to know what to believe is really going on.
---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 39 ----

Sethra's reign of terror is ended. We tracked her down to a small copse. Her once mighty army had dwindled to a score of slaves, warriors, and archers. Their slings and short bows bounced harmlessly off the phalanx, which plowed into their lines and tossed them aside. Sethra, at the front, was also hurling stones, but again with no affect, and I watched her get sliced open and her body be trampled into the ground.

I should mention that Limmy managed to show up to this battle also, although since it is easily two month's march through the forest from the Sinking Land, I can only conclude that the triplets were wrong in their belief that he was there just two weeks ago. And yes... I believe it really is Limmy. He's still oddly blue, and he sounds just the same, and he knows me very well — knows the adventures and disasters we shared so long ago in the mountains. As for the rumors that he was dead? Limmy, crazy local that he is, insists that reincarnation is the most natural thing in the world, and that he was merely fortunate to come back again in his same form, and not a pig.

I think a more likely explanation is to be found in the scars he carries all over his body. Andromache, who examined him after the battle, said he had a particularly ugly chest wound which had been festering for quite some time. The trauma of so many battles, and the infection in his chest have probably combined to make him a little more crazy than normal, to the point where he has believed the own rumors of his death. Still, crazy man with delusions of godhood or not, it's good to see him again.

The empire of Mictlan is nearly vanquished. A lone mercenary captain and his single sidekick have also been hired by Mictlan to cause trouble in the south. I trust that even the nearly incompetent triplets can deal with two bandits. Huehueteotl is apparently attempting to storm the walls north of here all by his lonesome. The mystics, cowards that they are, have demanded that I come deal with this grave threat, and so I turn north again.

Andromache insists that Limmy is in no shape to go anywhere, and will be attending to him and the rest of the wounded here. I am not worried about leaving them. Now that the shadow of Sethra is lifting, these woods are quite peaceful. The whole world feels like a much happier place: it is as if all our pains and troubles are being drawn away from us and the freed inhabitants of this land. I feel more fit and relaxed than I have in ages. Is this what victory is really like? Just last month I remember worrying that conquering these lands would just mean more work; that every day we would uncover new horrors lurking in forgotten corners, and even that we might become corrupted by the lingering evil here. Now I worry no more.
---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 38

Memo: Attn Glorious All-Powerful First Citizen of the Benevolent People's Republic of R'lyeh (GAPFC-BPRR) Xlikloth

As per instructions, another overwhelming victory for the people in Skyfall Lake. Sent many tritons to re-education camps on the shores. Also, twenty more Martyrs of the Purple this battle; sent official award, medal, fruit-baskets, largest available body part(s) to families. Lands nearby all dead, no living soul walking the earth seen for miles. Heading back because of creepy cold feeling running down the backs of our spines. Plan to advance the Glorious People's Rebellion on other fronts.

Xi Mi, Comrade-in-arms

* * *

Cthugul knew he was close. He could smell it: like overripe octarines. He was pleased, because C'thulu would be pleased. He reached out with his mind to entice the Great Purple closer. But when it was still just beyond his grasp, his concentration was broken by the thundering sound of two greater othernesses frolicking in the void. The Great One disappeared. Cthugul sighed, and turned his mind toward the intruders. He was very patient. The purple would come when it came.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 39


"ATTN: Front Line", read Ahu'yhuala, looking up from his sand castle. "Keep up the good work!! Your efforts are very valuable to us in the fight against [blank].." Here he paused, squinted. The words "Atlantis", "Tritons", "Evil soul-sucking void lords", "Man", and "All those who oppose us" were all scrawled in the blank, though some of them appeared to be crossed out. "Our glorious struggle demands constant vigilance and sacrifice," he continued. He glanced at his men. B Squadron appeared to have copied his drip-arch model, and was taking advantage of his inattention to the sand to add elaborate shell hatching to their castle turrets.

He skimmed the rest of the message. "Be assured that the GAPFC-BPRR has important plans for your brave warriors/ magicians/ chefs (choose all that apply). Stand by for urgent communiques to follow." It was signed "X", like all the others. Ahu'yhuala placed the memo down, and began work on a double-layered tunnel system. He could not let A Squadron down. They would have the best sand castle ever. He figured he had a good two, three months before X got around to sending him actual orders. There was no time to waste.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Well, it looks like the game is pretty interesting, with several races still in contention.

The yarns, though, are far less hotly contested, with Arco way out in front and only R'lyeh with any hope of catching.

Are you all still interested in scores for the yarns? I'm happy to keep going if you are, but it seems to me like the yarns and the game have become separate competitions.

CC

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Hi Magnate,

As I recall, the original victory conditions for the game involved the points for the yarns plus some points for the top three people in all score graphs except army size. I realize of course that I have the most to benefit from these rules remaining the same (though as you can see Arco is doing fairly middling in most score graphs). At this point, I hope everyone has realized that I'm really just having fun writing the yarns, and any points that result are a pure bonus.

-Puffyn

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 40 ----

... and when Pandokos wrote to the most wise Elders to tell them of the joyous defeat of the evil Mictlanians, he grumbled, saying, "By Zeus, it takes longer to sign my name than it does to write 'Blood suckers dead. War over'." But Nihar, who is related to Balachandra, the First of the Wise, on his mother's side, through her second cousin ... [passage elided] ..., read what he had signed, and he noted that although it was true that he was "Pandokos, Acting Stategos of Oast Hills, the Sinking Lands, North & South Horslund Forest, and various sundry swamps, as well as all lands formerly in Sethra's thrall," there were also some tactless omissions. But Pandokos, whose bravery in battle is not matched by his consideration for the feelings of the loyal inhabitants of Aeros River, the Skeldes, and Godsgrave Pass, said some unkind words and muttered, "I've got to come up with a shorter name..."

From The Collected Sayings of Pandokos the Prophet, in his second incarnation

Today, we are at peace. No more slave raids mar the beauty of this land, no more young girls are put to the knife, no more unnatural creatures terrorize the people. It ended, appropriately, with the death of Hueheuteotl, who had spent a month encamped outside the Mictlan capital, attended by a lone archer. The mystics, as is typical, declared it was "not worth their time" to put down their books for five minutes and slay this lunatic, so only Odysseus and an old priest came out to meet me when I arrived with the army. It was clear from the first that the archer wanted to abandon this mad siege and surrender, but his so-called prophet quickly smote him dead when he tried to flee. Five of my hypaspists also fell before we ran him through. They were given burials fitting for any hero.

Since then, it has been nothing but joyous celebration in the former capitol (except for Balachandra, who follows me around asking when Andromache is expected to return). Tens of thousands of people died in just the last five years, and the survivors are jubilant (and a little shocked) that the old priests are gone. All of the old temples have been torn down, though I hear rumors that, against my orders, some of the lesser priests and officials who know the workings of the royal treasure vaults have been kept on. But though there is much dancing in the streets all through the warm summer nights, there are, as yet, few takers for the new religious faith being offered them. The least offensive of the old temples, the temple of the moon, has been properly cleansed and rededicated to Artemis, but attendance remains low. I suspect it may take a little while for them to feel able to trust the gods again, but concede to Thymbre our old argument about reason and religion: perhaps a little belief that the future will be better is not so very bad.

Certainly, the city-dwellers are aping some of the more bizarre customs of my local troops, such as smearing themselves with butter and composing ridiculous rhymes on the subject of churned dairy products. They also shout out "Argasi, Argasi" every time I walk through the streets, which I was told by Balachandra was the local word for our Greek troops. Perhaps they have been speaking with some of our brave lads from Arkadia; though by the way Balachandra smiled when he told me this I rather suspect it has a different meaning in his dialect. He refuses to elaborate.

It made me think, though, that we need something to tie our far-flung cities together. The village of Oast Hills may still be paying for our army's upkeep, but out here the name rolls off the tongue as "Waste Hells", which seems to annoy the mystics. There are also a few people who grumble about us as invaders, and more than a few who worry that they are now simple vassals to a far-off kingdom. So I have come up with a new name, that combines the "Argasi" with the local word for "people", "sifaly", or Arcoscephale, after appropriate Hellenification. It is under that name that we shall forge a nation. And let us hope that it will be a land of peace and prosperity and lots of butter.
---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 40

Tonight, is our night. For too long have been held captive, dreaming in the city under the waves. The minds of men are ours to consume. It is our birthright, our calling, our long-held sacred duty. Tonight, we begin. Tonight, is our night.

It will be tough going. Arrows will pierce your flesh, and a cruel, unfriendly sky will hurl down death upon you. Yet, through the storm, through the tempest of arrows, you will pass, slipping between the place they know and the place they will never comprehend and rending their minds in turn. On the beaches of Westwatch and Anodyr, under the cliffs of Shalen, and in the fetid fens of Draggonsbladder, many brave beings will become martyrs, many brave beings will journey tomorrow on different, far stranger waves. Yet the dead will serve to rededicate us, to reaffirm our holy goal.

And what is our goal? What called us to this place, long ago, from across the great void? Conquest! Dominion! Godhood! For too long we have been fettered by the weak-minded, and ruled as much by our slaves and we ruled them. Tonight that changes. The ichor of Illithid on the sands of Man shall be a sign, seen from heaven itself. Tonight is our night, and heaven shall tremble in fear. Tonight is our night, and stained sands will bear witness of our deeds here till the rivers change courses and the mountains are moved. Tonight is our night! Let the summer vale burn, and its fire be a warning to the rest of the world: tonight is our night!

This is the Word of X.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 41

Light and airy, with subtle, fruity notes and an earthy undertone. Moderate fat content, good levels of iodine and vitamin D,

I can only conclude that I have returned to the moderate latitudes, and I cannot be far from the sea. This land is mostly empty, it took many days before I found a wandering hunter to sample. I'm not sure exactly where, somewhere in Man's empire I presume. I hope they will not misinterpret my presence.

It was nearly two months ago now when the loyal starspawn found me high in the north of this world, nearly mad with hunger and rage. He studied the spell that had banished me from my watery palace, and said that he would be able to use those faint lingering tendrils of starlight to send me back through space-time to kill the one who did this to me: Xlikloth. At first I was skeptical, but then he showed me the fine weapons Cthugul and his boys back in the lab had been cooking up... and my urge to bury them into soft, yielding flesh grew too great.

Clearly, more skepticism was warranted, since nobody around here has a name beginning with X. I think I'll go south. No, north. Hmmm... but east is so attractive too. Perhaps I'll just sit here and wait for news to come to me in tasty little human nuggets.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 41 ----

It is late summer here. The small melt-water creek that runs along the west bank of the city is almost warm, and though it is still a bit colder here than I would expect for the season, the locals revel in what they claim is an uncharacteristic warm spell. Every day the riverbanks are filled with laughing children and young women, who even a few weeks earlier were too scared to leave their homes. Some of them have even taken to swimming in it, and consequently I have had a hard time enforcing rigorous training schedules among my hoplites and hypaspists, who always find some pretext to patrol near the river.

I am of course making sure my trooops maintain acceptable standards of training and readiness. But for the first time in years - decades - there is no immediate threat. It is not as if we have won this fight only to turn around to fight another foe tomorrow; we are really, actually, at peace. After all those years in Alexandros' army, then on the great campaign, then those dark years after our abandonment when we would fight for whichever side promised us bread, then the service to the Oast Hills elders that led to the overthrow of the evil blood-leeches... I feel almost at a loss about what to do next.

I think I will go swimming. I miss Thymbre now, perhaps more than I have the past few months, because now there is time to pause and reflect on her absence, and the small beaver dam I found last week that will go unremarked by her. But in other ways the pain has almost faded away, like a grave wound that has at last scarred over, and is little more than a memory permanently etched on your skin. I know that she would be happy that this land is cleansed of blood sacrifices. I know that she might even, though I still cannot, consider it to have been worth dying over.

I think mostly she would be pleased this unhappy city is slowly blossoming into a happy, civilized city. I have kept busy conferring with architects and engineers to rebuild after decades of neglect, and they seem more than happy to try out my fading memories of real archictural design (though we're having a bit of a problem reconciling column tastes). It has created a lot of work for the many former soldiers, who slave or free were wretchedly treated under the old regime. It is good to hear the sound of hammer and chisel, of people haggling in the marketplace over a variety of food unimaginably vaster than what was available during the long seige.

One thing, though. I haven't spoken much with any of the mystics in ages, not even Balachandra, who keeps constant watch on the roads. Strange sounds sometimes come from their quarters, and they often walk around with smiles on their faces, and far, distant looks in their eyes. I wonder if I should be concerned with what they are up to. Their quarters are across the river. Perhaps I should wander down that way and keep an eye on them.
---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 42 ----

Many ignorant people believe the gods find their amusement in thwarting the efforts of man, by multiplying our troubles when we are down, and providing good things only to lull us into a false sense of peace. Until today, I had little credited such ideas.

It really is impossible to keep a large empire happy and united, especially when the dilapidated animal tracks that pass for roads through the southern swamps have been further ruined by many armies marching to and fro upon them, waging war. A messenger on foot can take half a year to reach Horslund Forest from Oast Hills, despite the raging peace.

Although I do feel the weight of age in my bones, I am not just engaging in senile rambling, but have three salient points to relate on this topic. Firstly, I have issued a command to the mystics who are so busy at their forges that they should provide us with more pairs of winged boots, such as the ones Andromache never takes off (except, presumably, when she is with Balachandra, unless they can carry the weight of two people). With these marvelous devices it is possible to bypass the sludge and cut the travel time dramatically. I desire them not for myself, but for the mystics studying here. They have better things to do with their time than wander the swamps, and I'm sure if I sent the whole gaggle south they would arrive depleted in number, and the bog would be richer in mystical robes.

Secondly, bizarre rumors come from the south speak of a race of ancient sleepers who are awakening and stirring up in the people memories of a time they never knew; hopes for a golden age, impossibly bright; whispers of power beyond compare and above contention. So far, it appears these charlatans have confined themselves to ramblings about the lands on our western border, now owned by the Vanir. But I wonder how long it will be before they turn their poisoned tongues against me...

And thirdly, I have just had a messenger to tell me that the tribe who lives north of here (the Yldemirians) have broken their oaths to us and set up an independent state. I do not wish to become a tyrant, but such treachery, so soon after we freed them, cannot be allowed to stand. I am also given to understand that a mystic searching there uncovered a cave containing very rare yellow gems. Perhaps the locals sought to gain possession of this resource our mystics spent so much effort finding, or perhaps they simply feel that in such a large empire, in which travel is so difficult, they would be allowed to rebel. Whichever the case, I shall bow to the amusement of the gods, forsake my peaceful time here, and march north with an army to crush these insurgents.

Yet, surely the non-existent gods have been kinder to me than to the ruler of the Kingdom of Man, Ward of the Summer Vale. Scout reports paint a grim portrait: already engaged with the Vanir, the things from beneath the waves have emerged into the sunlight which surely hates their existence, and have carved a swath of destruction; from the south, the spider people have joined in the attack, leaving Man beset by enemies on all sides, and sure to crumble.
---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 43 ----

The Yldemirians had gone completely wild in just a few weeks. Entirely forsaking their initial claims of principled revolt, a mob took to the hills to crude weapons and set about systematically pillaging the land. We took them in a little clearing in the mountains, and it still does my heart good to remember: with wild shrieks they emerged from all sides, and before I could call a word the hypaspists, hoplites, and silver shields had shucked off their marching gear and assembled into two deadly lines of metal facing their foes. The barbarians came on strong, and bashed apart the lone vinogher who had been traveling with our army and was outside the main column trying to make friends with a moss-covered rock. Then they reached our line, flung themselves upon it... and broke, like the tide on a rock cliff. Not one of my men was injured in the initial blow, and our counter charge was swift, sure, and deadly.

There is little else for me to do here. Messengers from the west have arrived, proclaiming that all the lands between here and the Frost-Water mountains now pledge allegiance and support to Arcoscephale. Another lost group of silver shields have joined us (hearing that soldiers of Alexandros were always welcome in Oast Hills) and, led by Samir, has ventured north to pacify the unruly tribes around the headwaters of Aeros River. Meanwhile, Limmy's quest to redeem himself continues to win us support in the Farsen Forest region. I have my doubts, though, as to whether Ole Blue actually does any fighting anymore, or simply uses his supposed immortality and buttery tongue to woo the daughters of local chieftain, and in that way gain their aid.

I shall return to the city of Mictlan, I suppose, and use one of these pairs of flying boots to make a quick survey of the empire. In particular, I wish to meet these sleepers in the Sinking Land and find out what they're really up to. The latest crazy rumor is that they're giants, which probably means that they're about an inch taller than the nutrient-starved denizens of the swamp, and armed with magical weapons, which probably means that their arms are carved with scary-looking runes. Still, "ancient heroes awaiting the final cataclysmic battle that will decide the fate of the world" or not, they are gaining quite a following, and thus merit some attention.

I can't even remember how long it's been since I last saw Oast Hills. Perhaps it has shrunk in my memory after wandering the vast temples of Mictlan, or perhaps it is true that the leaders of such a crummy little hovel on the edge of a muddy brook now rule all this land. It is hard to credit. And... I cannot escape feeling like I am a puppet in all this. That my actions are scarcely my own, and my motions guided by... something like fate I suppose. I simply bend to the necessities that push around me. And the end? The ultimate destination is the same for all mortals. But I cannot see what lies between there and here. Once I thought I knew: the army makes such sight-seeing easy by bringing the final goal ever closer. Maybe it is just this odd land, and Zeus knows that my adventures hereto have been strange, but I feel that my path is about to get truly bizarre.
---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 42

X,
We have secured this end of the bridge, and encountered only light resistance. Where are the armies of Man? Though, in your genius, you choose to attack when they were heavily engaged with treacherous Vanheim, they must still have great forces in the eastern part of their kingdom. All is deserted here, but we shall remain, holding the bridge, to give you all the time you need to tear down the walls of Starko, and unleash death thereupon. All hail the glorious X.
- Xi Mi, high-general of the GAPFC-BPRR, and secretary of goodness and puppies

X,
Kill. Ate. Destroy. Sun bright. Woods good. Run, run away. Into the wild. Into the woods.
- Aud

X,
As ordered, squadrons A and B struck west this month, capturing Horken Bog. We encountered only light resistance, and suffered no casualties. We have received no further orders and continue south along the river, hoping to seize the magical laboratory in the Dunwash and capture or kill the sages there.
- Ahu'yhuala

X,
We woke, so hungry, under cold, heavy raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains. No forces of Man stood to hinder our gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains. One scout tried to stop us, and we gave him great paaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains. We now shamble west; under the hills there are fertile plaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains. We'll beat down their defenses and trample their graaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains. And then, maybe south, to eat our their...
- Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains

http://www.shrapnelcommunity.com/thr...035-Turn42.jpg

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 43

Hmmm, it is as I feared. Man-ish forces make no distinction between the forces of Xlikloth, which are ravaging the land, and myself, who is only trying to find and kill that upstart punk. I wandered across the beautiful old library by the riverside, and was attempting to communicate with the local garrison the only way I know how (by sucking out their brains) when a group of Illithids showed up. The humans got all uppity and tried to stick metal into things, and before you knew it many of the best volumes in the library were blood splattered.

Anywho, the commander of the R'lyeh force, Ahu'yhuala, is loyal to me. Or, at least hates Xlikloth, which is the same thing. He was upset that he had to leave his sand castle under the sea to come fight. We found a magic lab next to the library, strewn with odd human magical equipment (apparently they think magic is done with paper, quills, lanterns, and a surprising number of human skulls). The skulls make me hungry. But I digress. Together, Ahu and I used the lab to make contact with Cthugul back home. He was very glad to hear from me, since he had feared the worst since my disappearance. The old boy is getting slow in his old age though, and is thinking about retiring to spend more time with the spawn, and letting one of the other priests venture into the void.

Argh! Off topic again. This is what happens when I get hungry; those militia were barely more than a snack.

Cthugul says that most of the Elder Starspawn remain loyal to me, but are afraid of Xlikloth's power. If I can just remove the head (literally) of this rebellion, the rest will fall in line. And Cthugul knew that the traitor was directing the assault on the castle at Starko, only a few leagues south of here! But the journey there will not be easy. Great armies of Man are roving along the coast, and will most unfairly try to kill me. One force in particular, is rumored to have dozens of fire mages, and some nasty fiery snakes. And me without my fire-proof night-clothes! This will not do, so I have ordered Cthugul to ship me something fire-proof right away so that I can get close enough to these mages to explain the subtle distinction between Xlikloth (the lunatic terrorizing their lands), and my godly self (Lord of Nightmares, He Who Lies Dreaming, Great Elder God Who Will Destroy All Their Minds And The Very Foundations Of The World).

So, until that magic gear comes in, I'll spend some time here, perusing some of the Man-ish books. Oh, "How to cook", that looks good.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 47

Well, gosh, if that wasn't the oddest thing. I've eaten a lot of things in my time, some of them strange enough they would blow your mind, but I've never tasted Death before. He was a nice enough chap. Kind of ticklish and brackish.

Tricked out with a new shiny magic toy or two, I was close enough to Xlikloth to smell him. Then the memory becomes somewhat disjointed: I know I ran into some two-bit general with a horde of undead under his command. Undead indeed, what is it the empire of R'lyeh coming to? Although, I guess I should drop that bias now. Blah blah blah, chitty-chat, and then suddenly there were Manish mages everywhere and giant flaming snakes. They hit me with spells and froze me in place, and I stood helpless as they cut my divine flesh. I tasted my whole life before my tentacle: cup of brains, cup of brains, almost got shagged, cup of brains...

And then I was dead, and then the prayers of my faithless slaves pulled me back to the mortal coil. I am relieved to discover I lost only a few months. Being dead gives one a certain intaste into the universe. And while I wouldn't say there is immediate cause for panic, let's just say that I won't be investing in any bonds with a time to maturity of more than about a year. I see that old Nothy-boy is no longer verber of nouns, and Vanheim is looking a little green behind the ole gill-slits.

So now I'm in a difficult position. Caelum, to the south, has grown extremely strong, and Man, despite having mostly triumphed over Vanheim, has been sorely hurt by Machaka and the cursed rebels. I would love to turn my army south, but to do that I would have to reclaim it from the upstart. And, much as I hate to admit it, I'm not really in any shape to go anywhere. I mean, it's only a chest wound. The limp? I've had worse. Look, your whole arm's off! No it isn't. But that pesky Never Healing Wound. It's not so much the physical pain, but the mental trauma of such an injury. Never Healing. It sounds so final, doesn't it?

Anyhow, it's been a long time since I've been this close to the Void. And Cthugul's here and is rather chatty, and really, I'm just not feeling that well-disposed toward Man to want to go teleporting all the way across the world to reign in some trouble-maker who believes all surface dwellers are part of some vast air-breathing conspiracy. I'll just sit here and watch my enemies kill each other for a while. In fact, maybe I'll take up knitting. I hear you can do some interesting and amazing things with alpaca.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 44 ----

I have a newfound respect for Andromache's ability to use these flying boots. It is remarkably difficult to keep your balance when your feet can be blown in wildly different directions by even the slightest breeze. If you then add in mountains or looming tall trees... I must have set down six times already, with varying amounts of control, to regain my balance (and recover from the slightly sick feeling I get from traveling at such great heights), when I realized that the clearing I was resting in looked familiar.

"Come to crush my arrugula, deathbringer?" I heard a voice say. I would almost say its tone was friendly chiding, but I remembered well the odd, hostile way in which we had parted. Still, there was no denying that the old enchantress seemed to be almost smiling as she spoke.

"Well, there's no helping who you are, I guess," the old woman continued. "But perhaps your Navnit was not so far wrong when she spoke well of you. Have some warm fragrant herbal beverage with me."

As much as I had always felt ill at ease in her presence, I was not about to refuse the offer of anything warm. I could barely feel my nose and fingers after many hours' flight, and I gratefully gulped down the mug she placed in front of me, and the warm biscuits and generous amounts of butter. Perhaps I had been mistaken in taking a dislike to this odd woman who never left her grove of trees.

We spoke for a while of the war with Mictlan, and she broke into a real, unmistakeable smile when I described the fall of Sethra and Huehueteotl, and the rebuilding of Mictlan. But mostly she just shook her head when I spoke of all the fighting, and seemed particularly grim on hearing of Amshula's death and the growing factions among the mystics. "You are walking on the edge of a knife, Pandokos," she said. "There is some sort of turmoil hanging over your future, wherever you are. You should leave now, so that it does not perhaps overtake you here, where we have already suffered far too long." But this time, on ordering me to leave, she also prepared a basket of biscuits (and butter) for me to take with. Some people are just naturally brusque, I guess.

She eyed me a little bemusedly as I fumbled with the straps on my boots, then again as I immediately fell over when I tried to hover a few feet off the ground. I have found that my quick reflexes are sometimes a hindrance in keeping my balance while flying, causing me to overreact and tumble more than I should. But finally, I righted myself.

"Be careful," said the old woman. "The land is cleaner now than it has ever been, but there are still some pockets of evil intentions, especially where you are going. Perhaps you are one of the rare deathbringers who does not seek only death and glory at all cost; but I suspect many of the other sort will be drawn to news of your conquests and undo the peace that you have helped bring."

As I was flying off, she said, "Search carefully among the friends you think you know, the roads you've walked a hundred times. Perhaps you will find something that surprises you; and I hope not for the worst."

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 45 ----


All that flying was for nothing. The Firbolgs led the hypaspists and a forest of vinoghers out of here just a few days ago. They are now somewhere in the swamp between here and Oast Hills, but the thick cover of slimy leaves which hangs like a sullen blanket over that part of the world will probably defeat any attempts to find them from the air.

Meanwhile, I have another crazy person to deal with. You gotta respect a guy who thinks he's Odysseus, especially if he is manifestly sane. But when some local mystic decides it's not good enough to worship at the temple of Athena, no, she has to be Athena, that's plain crazy and a transparent power grab amongst locals who actually do believe that gods become people and fruitbats and orangutans and large chunks of... Still, I should talk to her at some point and make sure she's happy-insane, and not dangerous-insane.

I received the most odd report from our southernmost scout this morning. The lands south of here are all aboil with this new war between Man and the squid-beings. It doesn't look like things are going well for Man. In the wastes of Ryazan, where it is common for men to eat the dead bodies of other men in times of extreme hunger, one brave waif has stood up to the cruel policies of their Manish overlords and led a revolt, demanding some degree of autonomy, freedom of religion, and lots of brains (which are a delicacy amongst these barbarians). Our scout was on hand to witness this individual lead his motly band against the local militia. And though there were equal numbers on both sides, and the rebels were armed only with their bare hands, Braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaains (for that his the closest I can reproduce the local dialect in Greek) led his men to victory with almost no loses. A fine tactician obviously. I shall ask our scout to keep a close eye on further developments.

It is interesting to note that while I have been gone, Ulde, Wlde, and Vlde have only grown in stature among the citizens of the Sinking Lands (although they are not all here at the same time, and it is exceedingly difficult to discern which one you are talking to). Remember that these were the same women engaged in the hateful blood sacrifices of the loathed kingdom, whose defeat is even now being celebrated; yet they meet with many smiles and small gifts whenever they walk around town. Perhaps it has something to do with their successful handling of the seige during the war, though since I have learned the precise number of troops they faced my only wonder has been why it took them so long. There is a dark cynical voice that says they meant it to, so that the people would be grateful and rally around them; but that leads to other dark thoughts about what they intend to do with these loyal citizens and the troops they keep amassing. I do not want to see this province become another police-state like the one I just brought down.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 46 ----

In the Odyssey, Homer tells us how Pallas Athena, Guard of the Armies of Zeus, Hope of Soldiers, Thirdborn of the Gods, takes the form of a small girl to lead Odysseus into the palace of Nauskiaa, and greets him home in Ithaca disguised as a shepherd boy. And Odysseus did not recognize her, but she revealed herself to him:

But come, let us talk no more of this, for you and I both know
sharp practice, since you are far the best of all mortal
men for counsel and stories, and I among all the divinities
am famous for wit and sharpness; and yet you never recognized
Pallas Athene, daughter of Zeus, the one who is always
standing beside you and guarding you in every endeavor.

I do not claim to be as tricky as the real Odysseus (and I left the fake one up north, so I cannot ask his advice now), but wouldn't it be the ultimate disguise for a goddess to come to earth proclaiming herself openly, but taking on so unlikely a guise that none would seriously believe it were her?

Heh. I have become a mystic myself in my old age. Still, for a moment, as Athena led me through the rough-hewn gateways of a temple more ancient than the hills themselves, and drew down the starlight into the perfect shimmering pearls, I almost believed that I saw the halls of Olympus in the this local woman's beautiful grey eyes.

From the depths of the temple, she drew forth a fine staff of ivory which entwined a huge sapphire.

"This is the Winter Bringer, O wanderer. An ill-winter is near at hand, and the end of all things gathers: storm clouds across a wine-dark sea. Use this well and bravely, and perhaps in the deepening gloom your song will slice like a ray of light."

I took the staff (which is truly beautiful, but otherwise apparently useless) and my wits, and walked back into the city to meet with the triplets and a Golakana shaman (can you believe they're letting people-of-Golana become magicians now?) and iron out a few laws for this place before heading off on those cursed boots again in the morn.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 47 ----

Usually, when you leave a muddy little village that has been your home for many sad, sorry years, and set out on the road, having many great adventures, surviving one dangerous peril after another, only to return victorious months or years later, the place seems a bit small and unimportant. The village elders seem a little less mysterious and powerful, the local priests less authoritative, your own former fears and anxieties less real after all the dangers you have faced and survived.

Usually. While I have been gone, Oast Hills has transformed itself from a village into the capital of an empire. Everywhere I look tall, new buildings have been erected, among them no less than eight gaudy shrines to a certain blue-limbed pretender god (whom I have yet to encounter). The village elders now wear dark black robes and are followed everwhere by an honor guard wearing a strange rune on their shoulders. When I asked Anemoreia, a young priestess who was once a slave alongside Andromache, what the rune was supposed to mean, she said, "That was your idea, don't you recall? We are all one people now, the people of Arcoscephale; and that is our sign." But somehow when I devised my ideas of giving a downtrodden conquered people some sense of hope, this was not what I envisioned.

There does seem to be less mud, though. The streets have recently been paved with broad stones, just as I had often proposed to a complete lack of interest. Special attention has been paid to the roads near the mystics' quarters and the soldiers' barracks, which I appreciate. There are only ten new recruits stationed here, but they have been drilling constantly, and are much too keen to hear stories of the Mictlan wars. Eh, over-eager lads are nothing new, I suppose... but their enthusiasm for battle is a bit discomforting.

One thing that has not changed: it still took weeks for me to arrange a talk with the village elders. I would have thought they would be interested in the state of their empire to the east -- we have, after all, nearly tripled the size of our holdings since I left -- but they seemed almost bored by my accounts of turning the blood-suckers capital into a prosperous city. Instead, they wanted to know everything about how the mystics had fought in battle: what incantations they had used, and to what effect. They were especially curious about the vinoghers. But my concerns about the triplets and their power over the eastern swamps held no interest for them, nor did they care much for my accounts of the battles I had heard were raging between our neighbors and my opinion that we should tread carefully lest we get drawn in. "We trust you will remember that your contract does not include informing us of how we may act in affairs of foreign diplomacy," was how one of them put it.

I grew more uneasy when I was ushered out of their presence after only a quarter of an hour, only to see Vlde enter, and be greeted warmly. Nirmai, who arrived before I, told me that she has been in constant meetings with them for the past week. About what, I can only speculate, and my thoughts are all bad.

I was pleased when my desire to take the recruits on an extended training exercise to the small village to the west was approved by the elders. This city is starting to give me the creeps, and I welcome the chance to return to the quiet little town where Thymbre found a library and built a small place for studious types to engage in quiet refelection. I could use some time for reflection myself.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 48 ----

And when Pandokos of the quick feet and the cold shivery stick at last glimpsed the city toward which he was traveling, he became much confused, thinking he had accidentally turned back toward Oast Hills. In his infinite wisdom he turned to me, "The Collected Sayings of Pandokos the Prophet, Vol 1", to look at my array of useful and informative maps; but he seemed to expect more than a blank sheet with an X and the words "you are here!!" written on it, and in his snootiness slammed me shut before he could read any of the helpful advice written on the next pages... [passage ends abruptly]"

From The Collected Sayings of Pandokos the Prophet

This is what comes, I thought, of letting people into libraries. The next thing you know someone's built a huge fortress to house all the would-be scholars pouring in from the hinterlands, and they're charging ridiculous amounts for lodging and stables. I wonder if Thymbre knew what would happen to this quiet village when she tarried here an extra month to prepare the scholar's quarters, before joining us on her last campaign... I suspect she might just find the huge crowds and the constant magical bickering (and occasional flying sparks or sharp stones) to be amusing.

At least I was able to find the firbolg. Had I been looking for a lesser man, it would have been difficult, but Todd stands out in a crowd. He has the face of a young boy, and the same sheepish manner of speech, though it is whispered that he is millennia old. Certainly he is taller than any two men. But for all his affability, I was disturbed by his news. The first thing he told me, for instance, was that we were at war. "At war?" I said, naively placing stock in my nominal position as supreme commander of the Oast Hil... sorry, Arcoscephale forces.

"Yes, Rod marched out several months ago, and has been having a jolly good time on the high plains," said Todd seriously. "Only I can't go until Orokestes gets back." His eyes brightened. "Did you hear there was a huge battle, and everyone died, except the mystics? Now Orokestes will have to come back, and I can march out with him, and we can retake our ancestral home."

I realized, with dismay, that the news that several divisions of troops -- including many Greek veterans -- had been sent into battle without my knowledge, did not surprise me. Weren't we at peace with Vanheim? I thought. Didn't they trade away Thymbre's grave so that we would not have to fight this war?. Too late for such thoughts now.

Todd was eager to march forth immediately, for death and glory, and my stupid young recruits beamed eagerly at his words. But I insisted on speaking with the runner from the battle; and from his words I realized that we needed a plan. We faced even worse things than nightmares now, and this time I would not fail my troops. I ordered everyone to stay within the castle, and for news to be sent that any soldier or mystic afield must return, so that we might better plan how to face this foe.

But I found it impossible to think within the confines of the city walls, so close to terrible memories long since buried. At night I would dream that Athena was calling to me, telling me to meet her in the mountains. After a week of this, with no sign of friend or foe on the horizon, I decided that if going up into that mountains would get me a good night's sleep, it was worth it, goddess or no goddess. So accompanied by a young mystic who refused to let me go alone (I think he was itching for a chance to search for mystical sites, but dared not disobey my orders to stay within the castle), I marched out to the near hills. I sit there now, two nights later, watching the dark mountains I marched into with my love, unable to leave. It is not yet time, I know, though I cannot say what it is I am waiting for.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 49 ----

On the eighth night, just as a thin sliver of moon began to rise, Pandokos heard a voice behind him. "You," he said. "I thought you were in a swamp down south." There was a voice like silver and thunderclaps, and she said, "But I am the goddess of battle strategery, and you are in need of a plan." And she spoke many wise words with him, which although they were not wise enough to have been in the Book in the first place, were nonetheless wise enough to be included now...

From The Collected Sayings of Pandokos the Prophet

"Do not tarry," Athena said to me. "This world is breaking beneath the fires of war. In less than a year you must have completed my work for you here - you must have forged these people together and trained an army strong enough to beat back the forces of chaos. Ride out into the mountains as soon as you can. Meet the invaders head on, and in my name you will triumph".

I'm not so used to being addressed by goddesses. I feel that my speech lacks the proper iambic beat which the gods seem to expect of their confidants in all the old poems. But military strategy I can deal with.

"That's foolish. The walls of this fort are strong. If we wander into the passes which they know so much better than I, we'll just lose again. I've lost a battle in those mountains, Orokestes has lost a battle in those mountains... no, it's better to wait here."

Athena smiled. "But this time you won't be going alone." A wizened old man appeared at her side. His hair and clothes spoke of far too long in the wild, and his smell of far too long since he had had to stand among other people. "This is my priest, Karl. He has tended the grave of Thymbre in these mountains for the past three years, spreading my name among the animals and plants here, in preparation for this day. He will guide you through the hills, and his friends will protect you from ambush. Now, give him your weapons."

Thinking that she must mean that pretty (but useless) Winter Bringer the old woman in scene twenty-four had given me, I turned it over to him.

"And the other one."

Muttering that it was typical nonsense for a god to expect a man to fight empty-handed, I reluctantly turned over my lance also (the men will be disappointed, they regard it as a token of good luck).

"Okay, now what?" But Athena was gone. Without a word, Karl wandered off into the woods, and I followed him back to the city.

At the gates I at last met the fabled Orokestes. "Balachandra sent this stuff for you, from the forge out east," he said by way of introduction. In the package was a pair of beautiful blue boots with amber buckles, an amulet with amber stones, and a belt with a single huge piece of amber (Blachandra must have gotten a good bulk deal on amber). "Oh, and a strange woman left this for you."

It was a sword such as I have never see. Massive enough to require two hands, it crackled and hissed as it flew through the air, and sparks ran down its surface. It is a thing of deadly beauty. I suppose being chosen as a pawn in the games of the gods isn't always so bad after all.

---

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R'lyeh, Turn 48

Dear Diary,

Our revolutionary struggle continues apace. We are advancing inexorably on all fronts, even those in which our advance is in a backwards direction. Our forces triumphed so completely in Heaven's Hold that it was considered unwise to spread ourselves too thin to pursue the stragglers of the evil Man army, so we left the battle field in victory and left their few survivors holding it, convinced they had triumphed. The fools! Do they not know that we have the historical imperative on our side? Do they not recognize that theirs is a decadent bourgeois society doomed to fall? Why then must they throw their lives away on such a pointless struggle? If they would only surrender, I would personally see to it that the class traitors were executed as humanely as possible, and that the ordinary soldiers were sent to forced labor camps close to their homes, so their families, if they survived the purges, could visit them and provide them with food and blankets and other things they should be grateful to be permitted. I am merciful, unlike certain tentacled oppressors who shall remain nameless. For that is the will of

-Xlikloth

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R'lyeh, Turn 49

It is so dry here, but I have found a way to keep moist. The fish in this place are very stupid and hug the bottom when they swim, so it is easy to chase them down and replenish myself from their waters. I do not understand why they don't fly away when I dart among them, but then there is much in this strange tenuous dry sea that is a mystery to my. Why do the fish here think that sharp sticks will do aught but pass through me? Why do they hurl small fires at me when these will easily be quenched upon my skin? And why do they make choking gasping sounds when they are suddenly enveloped in life-sustaining water?

If not for the assurances of my sister, who has long voyaged above the waves, I would have laughed at the emissary from the strange sucking tentacled beings who fancy they have conquered the oceans; but Limne insisted on hearing her out, and showed me how to use the strange devices they provided to leave the waters. C'thulu is no great friend of ours, but neither is he our foe: and I do not like to see any creature of the deep hurt by surface dwellers as much as he. Besides, the strange fish with their green cloth banners are quite easy to trample underfoot, and it is marvelous to see how they've adapted to the terrible absence of cool comforting water all around. Too long have we queens of the sea ignored this dry place; it is good that I am here now, to ensure the safety of all the little creatures who live in the deep.

Thalassa, Lady of the Undines

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

You guys are wacked out!! http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/image...es/biggrin.gif

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

I am quite wacked myself, because of all those squids and the silly Machakan who won't let me take their forts without a fight. Was this game supposed to be "Call of Ctuhlhu", and actually a game of survival? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif

Well, good luck to the remaining players against the rise of R'lyeh (and don't forget your astral magic, will you?).

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 50 ----

We met them as the day died on a high, windswept plain, between the Braegen Marches and the pass over the Godsgraves. Two small battalions of hypaspists and Vinogres stood before our mystics and priests. Another squad of hypaspists formed my personal guard, and a fourth guarded Orokestes, who now leads the mystics.

http://improbable.org/yarns/images/Us.jpg

Across the way, the sharp-eyed amongst us could see the invaders. Many were human: a score of elite huskarls, nearly as many men armed in wolf-skin with great two-handed swords, a squardon of archers on the right-flanks, and a group of the evil death sorceresses who had lead the ambush that killed Thymbre. There were trolls, massive creatures with great clubs. There were dwarf-mages, each cunning and ancient and cruel. There were nightmares on the left flank, their spears red in the setting sun, stained forever with Thmybre's blood. There were other wonders: an immortal fay boar, a gargoyle, animated into life... and then there were the Vans. More beautiful beings I have never seen, and the eye danced around such wonder, unable to comprehend what it was seeing. And the greatest of these sat on the world's largest horse. This is the One-eyed Bully, Lord of Frost. Ancient and terrible, with a horse swift as the wind. It is easy to see why he is a worshipped as a god.

http://improbable.org/yarns/images/Them.jpg

The sky turned dark, and a freezing rain fell. Behind me, the mystics began to mutter their spells. I raised Athena's sword to point out the terrible wight which lurked at the back of the foe's army, and watched in amazement as heaven opened and smote the foul thing with lightning. I shouted a warning about the danger posed by the trolls on the flanks, gestured, and a thunderbolt fell among them. Again, I pointed, this time to the smoking ruin the blast had made, and again the sky struck the earth. One last time I raised the sword, and suddenly three men who stood near the boar vanished in a shower of light.

The nightmares charged, and the archers let fly, as my men obeyed orders and held their ground. The death-priestesses shouted foul incantations and curses to scare our forces into attacking. Praying that Athena might avenge Thymbre, I pointed my sword at them - lightning thundered down all around them - and they died with a horrible scream.

http://improbable.org/yarns/images/Revenge.jpg

Todd now charged, heedless of my calls, far beyond the safety of the spear line. A terrible whirlwind of death descended upon him, and a frightening apparition, but he dodged the blows, struck back, as if his sword could tear the magic sinews of these charms. The nightmares had almost reached our lines, so I called out for a charge and ran forward with my men. A hail of blades fell over us. My men caught most of them on their shields, but one struck me in the arm, and I began to bleed profusely. And it was all for naught, for just as we reached the nightmares, they vanished in a hail of magic.

http://improbable.org/yarns/images/Nightmares.jpg

Now I heard shouts of alarm from the mystics. The one-eyed bully charged the length of the battlefield in a blink of an eye, skirting our phalanx to attack Orokestes. "Oh boy, I can lead the troops now!" Todd called, across the din. "You should go make sure he doesn't get stabbed or else I'll have to go home." So I went. A heavy mist had fallen now, and weapons seemed to be thrusting out of it even when no foe could be seen. The enemy must have somehow flanked us with a small force, who now roved among our unprotected magicians. I cut my way through.

http://improbable.org/yarns/images/Oneeyed.jpg

Then the fog cleared a little, and I was face to face with a horse that towered over me, and danced like a storm at sea, or the face of the mountains. I called for Athena, and lightning struck around my foe, but hurt him not. Grabbing what courage I had left, I slipped amongst the thousand hooves. They flashed through the air more quickly than the eye could see, yet I was always quicker, and as I thrust my sword up toward the towering giant, lightning flew from the tip and danced over him. Suddenly he became clear, no longer a thousand images of himself. I tried again, but could not get past his spear. Orokestes called out in a loud voice, and for a moment, my foe was still. "Thymbre!" I cried, and drove towards him with my sword; Zeus' light flashed again, and the gods claimed back one of their own.

http://improbable.org/yarns/images/Firstblood.jpg
http://improbable.org/yarns/images/Backtohell.jpg

They broke soon after. None surrendered, but none escaped back to sing in the halls of Vanheim. Afterwards I came across one of the Vans. His body was crushed, but his noble face which had welcomed a thousand thousand new suns in the east remained unscathed, gazing up onto the dark, brooding sky- the last it would ever see.

---

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 50

Heh-heh, suckers all.

Man is disappearing into the waves with pleasant abandon. I'm a little concerned that the rebels up there may start to think that Xlikloth is a competent general, so I've called forth the water queens, equipped them with the finest array of magical items, and sent them onto the land. They are such beautiful killing machines that I'm sure the troops will worship them instead of the false prophet, and thus return to the sea. And Man is still fighting Machaka too, oblivious to my hordes seething outside their cities and fortresses.

Caelum was gullible enough to send me the chalice- some religious token I've never understood the importance of. Oh yes, I said, I'll send it back in a few months after I've been healed. So far I haven't seen any of its mystical healing properties, but it makes a pretty good spittoon.

Cthugul has been busy. Upset with the slow pace of the Void Gate, he collaborated with good old Sammy (I'm surprised Sammy isn't dead yet. Every other pet human I've had has died really fast) and worked up a spell to directly call an abomination. I love abominations. Almost as much as the great purple. The spell seems to damage them en route, and so they end up a bit mindless, wandering around, bumping into things, killing slaves, and ripping apart the fabric of the universe. Sammy comes through again in the pinch though, with a very helpful book called, "How to give your Abomination the gift of reason". Evidently, you can either hit them repeatedly with the book or you can shot them with nature magic, right there above the eye.

I'm going to give this one a cute name, one of those cute little frosted unicorn heads, and something to fly - and then unleash it upon an unsuspecting world. And then Cthugul will get more, and more... Sure, the spell takes a lot of magic pearls, but it's better than relying on the void gate and its endless string of Othernesses and Things.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 51

A small set-back this month. I had ordered the garrison in Vankara sound to secure the city on the cliffs above. This is the home of the Vans, a rapidly vanishing race thanks to the genocidal efforts of Man and Arcoscephale. I thought their capitol might have some useful toys, and anyway, I certainly couldn't leave it in the hands of Man. I guess they had insufficient arrow fodder, or Man had too many magic users or something, because we were repulsed back into the sea. Ah well, I'll order them to try again.

The rest of the Manish war goes well. The trees are rapidly disappearing from the eastern lands and Machaka has recently broken the Man army in the south. In fact, a scout reports that this loss left one of their troublesome air queens stranded with a small army in Syzran. My death sorceresses up north have been constantly cursing men into ghouls in distant lands. Useful enough, but a mighty force of ghostly cavalry works much better against air queens.

The bird-folk, my last real competition in this plane of existence, have launched an ill-conceived war against the fire-humans. Perhaps they will be successful. Both sides have certainly had many years of peace in which to develop, but the birds cover much more of this world. Still, it a perfect opportunity to strike. While the fiery devils of Abysia distract the fluffy-ones, I'll quickly raise a couple armies in the deep places by their shores and then march to another swift and certain victory.

I long to join them, but this blasted chalice thing seems to be broken. Perhaps it was a mistake to use it for drinking unicorn blood mixed with baby brains. The first Abomination is all set to kill things though. I dub him Mithridates (Mithy, for short), and send him to test the strength of the birds in one of their newly conquered lands.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 52

Thuella the air queen lives, but for how long? My ghost riders struck, slaughtering two mages and slew of archers, but the cowardly Thuella flew away. At this point, her few remaining troops are more of a liability than an aid.

Mithy did fine against the birds. They have this annoying enchantment which strengthens their local defenses, but not strong enough to stop an abomination! Mwhahahah...

Every city of Man is now under siege. We'll break into a few of them soon. I'm especially interested in pillaging their homeland in Skjomen's Steps. My lovely Limne will be directing that battle. After that, I'm going to quit fooling around with Xlikloth. I've carefully arranged things so that his army is stacked with those loyal to me, and at a single word they will slaughter him, all for the greater glory of me.

At last we have been able to summon Bathusma, queen of the deep. Most of her magic gear is ready to go, but I'm still waiting for the one item I outsourced. There is a very reasonable individual within the empire of Arcoscephale who was willing to forge a dread blood thorn for me for a fair price. That should arrive shortly, and then Bathusma will bathe in the blood of those who oppose me.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

OOC:

I have to say this has really turned into a fantastic type of game. A little long in the running, but now that I've seen it to near completion I really like the idea. I enjoyed quite a few of the different aspects of the game.

Particularly: Puffyn's posts as well as his "Dramatis Personae" really illustrate his position in the world.

I wanted to say that for the next Yarnspinners, I'd like to join and have the entire set of Players post on (perhaps an entire website for the game) a Dramatis Personae or Index.

Have any of you that have been playing this game thought about the next game and ways to make the game more enjoyable (as mostly an AAR) for the viewers in terms of website logistics?

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Hi Zen,

Thanks for reading. I've thought quite a bit how to make this game better, because it's been a great deal of fun, but big improvements are possible. Obviously the biggest problems has been people dropping out. I myself am a replacement - and I think only Alneyan and Puffyn are original players. The flip side of this coin is a lack of yarns.

One solution would be to decrease the number of yarns while increasing the pace of the game. I feel that the slow pace (~2 turns/week) lost us a lot of the original players. But it's extremely difficult to post interesting, informative, or funny yarns even twice a week. I think an optimal solution might be to have just one yarn per season (thus every three turns). We could then play 48 hour turns and yet need to write only approx. one yarn a week.

This might make for long yarns in the late game if people want to report on everything that happens, but it would help with the slow pace of yarns at the beginning of the game. Let's face it, after a little bit of character development and mood, the first many turns are going to be: "Yep, we killed more independents". I get bored just thinking about writing those yarns.

I think this type of game really requires it to be PBEM. If you need to review past turns to write your yarns (which you will, at some point), it's much easier if you have an e-mail archive of them. And it's pretty easy to just rename your old Yarnspinners folder to Turn51, and slowly dump the really old ones into another folder to keep your in-game menus reasonably short. So a PBEM host as wonderful as Alneyan is also a must.

As for motivation: the point scheme clearly Zap originally proposed clearly failed. The only benefit I've received from writing yarns is that people seem to have been reluctant to attack me, for fear that they will no longer be able to read my deathless prose. Or perhaps that's just because I attack everyone before they get a chance to attack me.

I believe that the motivation to write yarns should be tied directly into the game. I'm not familiar with the possibilities of modding, so perhaps this is impractical or there is an easier way: what if PBEM host was not directly playing? He/she could maintain a neutral empire of one province with a large astral income (and no dominion). Each yarn submitted would be rewarded with one astral pearl. Again, the incentive would be greatest at the beginning of the game. Once everyone is emotionally invested in the game, I think they will keep writing. The details of this suggestion could probably use more thought.

Finally, it would be great to be able to see more pictures and maps and graphs as the game progresses. I know AARs with maps are the only ones I really bother to read. Puffyn plans to post maps for this game after it's done, but it would really help keep an audience to have them as we go along. That audience, in turn, provides more motivation to keep writing. Again, the host could play this role: a simple screen shot of the map each season (or year) with just the race banners displayed. Secrecy is all very well and good, but it can't be maintained if it interferes with the game, and good yarns are going to reveal some useful information anyway- playing with full knowledge of the map evens the playing field and allows everyone to write more honest yarns.

Oh, and baby brains. Lots of baby brains.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

I concur with all the points Sedna offered (especially the one about Alneyan being such a great host; feel free to send me your prayers, gifts and firstborns).

- A quicker turnaround and fewer yarns would help keep the interest of the game high: we all, to various degrees, failed to keep up with that kind of pace, while quite a few players dropped from the game: Puffyn and myself are indeed the last ones, so Puffyn will be the only player having made it from turn 1 to turn 60 (hopefully).

- I feel a public map would be better, perhaps by adding a neutral nation with the Eyes of God enchantment as well (making it easier to take a screenshot of the map). Borders should be clearly visible, but perhaps scores should be off with this sort of setup (or made available every five turns or something along those lines).

- A nation giving gifts should not be difficult to implement, and would not have to be handled by a third party. This nation could simply be visible for everybody (it won't affect the game), so everyone would be able to check for astral gems mysteriously disappearing; it would also work well with the Eyes of God option above. In modding terms, this nation would start the game with a 0 pearl Wish spell, and would thus create a few hundred astral pearls (Wish would go back to the other nations afterwards).

- Something else I was thinking of: what about implementing a political aspect to the game, limiting the number of provinces that may be taken in a single war? The purpose would be to help those nations that are much weaker; in Yarnspinners, wars end only with the slaughter of the weaker nation (Mictlan, Atlantis, Ermor, and now Vanheim and Man collapsed, though I must say I underestimated the might of Machaka. I didn't make any such mistake with R'lyeh though). The specifics on how that would work are left as an exercise for the reader. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

As you can probably tell, I've been enjoying this game immensely, and it's great to hear that there are other people interested in another Yarnspinners game. Count me in...

That said, I'm all for reducing the number of yarns. I'm pleased to note that there should be no problem finishing this game -- R'lyeh doesn't scare me, and enslaved Starspawn make such cute pets -- but it's taken a lot of discipline to not miss any of my yarns, especially when I've been travelling. Lately I've been writing my turns in bunches of 2-4 at a time because I'm often too busy during the week to give my story the loving care it deserves. And I agree with Sedna - there are really only so many ways you can say "this turn we recruited another mystic and three hoplites and Limmy died against independents, again".

I like the idea of an independent nation dispensing pearls for yarns. Would we vote on the number of pearls distributed, or have an arbitrator like magnate?

The best parts of this game have been the interactions with other nations, and it's unfortunate that so few regular yarners are left to give reports on both sides of the great battles. (What great heroes lie unsung from the Man/Machaka wars?) I think the large early turnover in this game (aggravated by hosting problems and the delay when we switched to PBEM) would be lessened if we (a) had a smaller map, so first contact came quicker, and (b) had quicker turns.

As for wars leading quickly to extermination... Mictlan was of course AI, so there was no chance to negotiate. If, of course, Vanheim were writing yarns, begging for mercy, there might be a narrative necessity to stop short of killing them. Though I dunno if C'thulu would be stayed from his madness even by a well-placed yearn... Perhaps other incentives should be devised, too.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Oh, and Zen, about you post:

Glad you like the Dramatis Personae; I've fallen a bit behind on updating it, but maybe that's because it takes more to become an important enough character later in the story (just like in the Hall of Fame...)

How fancy a website are you thinking? My original idea for my site was to take everyone's yarns and post them on pages by player (so you can read a story all the way through) and by turn (so you can see what was happening each turn). Then I realized I'd have to crawl through the pages of this thread and extract all the story posts, being careful to keep the fancy formatting, and I got lazy and just went with the Dramatis Personae.

Perhaps for Yarnspinners 2: The Vengeance, players could submit their yarns to whoever was maintaining the game webpage, and the webmaster could add them with minimal formatting (UBB is easy to convert; I use HTML mostly anyways) to the appropriate running pages. For example, Arco's report for Turn 42 would be on both turn42.html and arco_yarns.html. Players could also send text/pictures for a Dramatis Personae at, say, arco_personae.html, as desired. (If we go with astral pearl-based rewards, perhaps you would get one every 5-10 turns if you kept your character list up to date.)

The game page in the forums could either have duplicates of the turns or not, however we want to do it, but would also have links to the external page. That way people playing wouldn't have to know how to maintain a website, but people reading it would have a lot easier time picking up in the middle and keep track of what was going on. Plus there might be more pictures (since it's a pain to upload more than one per post to the forums).

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Actually, I originally anticipated that the yarns would not simply be reports on the events of each turn. I hoped that the story-writing aspect would overwhelm the gameplay aspect, and that the gameplay would provide the setting for rather than the content of each yarn.

If Yarnspinners 2 happens, I'd also like to participate as a player.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

Dem's fightin' words!

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

As much as it may not look like it, I've really enjoyed this game. In fact, the yarnspinning is the part that I liked best. Unfortunately I haven't been as disciplined as Puffyn or Sedna. I did well for a while but RL got busy, I lost the thread of my story, and I never managed to regain it. I am very interested in participating in another yarnspinning game. I'll do my best NOT to drop the ball again.

Also, I echo the thought that Alneyan has been an awesome host.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 51 ----

We are marching on Godsgrave Mountain, but everything is different this time. It is early summer, and we have taken the southern route, which was closed before because of bandits. Later these lands were claimed by Vanheim and the One Eyed Bully; but Tushar and another band of mystics, along with Todd's brother Rod, passed this way some months ago on their way up north, and every village we've passed through so far now swears fealty to Arcoscephale (though this far west there are no signs of butter-dances, for which I am grateful).

As I write, we are encamped for the night near the foothills of Mount Isen, and we can see some of Man's spoils from its own war with Vanheim, including lush farmlands and the distant spires of what was once the Bully's capital city. Since his death, there has been very little resistence, and I do not expect the mountain fortress we are marching toward will house more than a few ragged huskarls. But I will not underestimate these mountains again: my troops are well trained, and there are more of them; and the mystics keep proving themselves useful in battle. If we had just had Tushar's blade wind three years ago...

It has been warm and clear the past few weeks, though dark thoughts are never far from my mind this close to where I lost my Thymbre. It is hard to think these gentle rolling hills bursting with wildlife are so close to the cold, dark, icy mountain that still plagues my nightmares. Perhaps it is a simple omen that things will go better this time; but sometimes when I watch Andromache and Balachandra laughing together, my blood runs cold and I wonder what might have been if we had not tried the mountain pass.

Balachandra may feel this too. He and Andromache and a cousin named Bindiya arrived at -- I should say flew into, for all three had pairs of those cursed boots -- our camp three nights ago, fresh from scouting out the mountains. But word has come from the capital that now there is an accute winged boot shortage, and would someone please return one of the pairs that disappeared mysteriously from the mystical labs? (I would not put it past a certain young priestess to have appropriated extra boots to show her lover, and forgotten to return them.)

The mystics conferred and decided that Andromache was least essential to the war effort, and would have to return with the boots. She protested mightily, but oddly enough Balachandra did not take her side, and instead quietly agreed that perhaps it would be best if she returned the boots, and rejoined the army after the battle. She walked off in a huff, and I have not seen her since this afternoon; perhaps she has already left.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 52 ----

There is a wall at Godsgrave Mountain. From a distance it is nearly invisible against the backdrop of the range, but up close it is clearly the work of some master craftsman, though the blocks, each as large as a house, bespeak the work of giants and not men. When we first entered the valley a heavy mist hung between the peaks, and the wall seemed to stretch on forever on either side.

"The Jervellan Wall..." breathed Todd in reverent tones, "At last."

Rumors hold that the Vans maintain a stronghold behind the wall, and one of their temples. The same whispers in the night say that the Vans sometimes sacrifice human women upon their alters. This curse of blood seems to lurk in the shadows everywhere. (There is even word from the Sinking Lands that a blood hunter has been caught there, attempting to revive those evil ways. I am uneasy leaving his justice in the hands of the triplets, but I cannot dictate policy everywhere in the empire.) Yet we have seen no sign of Van since we arrived.

Limmy has been here alone for several months, and clearly felt the solitude and whispering silence of this vale. He greeted me as his best friend in the world, and insisted on entertaining me in his quarters (a ramshackle lean-to against the cold blocks of the wall) with the finest foods in the valley (fried snake, and something I can only hope was bunny). He wanted to see my sword of course, which I've named Tempest, and hear the story of the battle with One-eyed over and over again.

It is odd to have his respect. I guess he has always admired my ability to win battles, but for would-be gods like Limmy, the ability to take and hold ground, the value of winning without fighting battles, and the subtly of maintaining an army months in the field in unfriendly and unfamiliar terrain - all these pale against the glory of one on one combat on the battlefield. And so at last I earn his respect, thanks to the aid of... Athena... or whoever really gave me this sword. Respect, and even a little bit of fear perhaps- with a little laugh Limmy showed me his special breastplate and said that it was protection against lightning. "Not that you should try here!" he was quick to reassure me.

I suppose I've gained a little respect for Limmy's own brand of crazy heroism. The Jervallan Wall is unscalable and totally indestructible. The mountains on either side are death for those who venture there, and the wind, which whips down off the frosty peaks, forestalled his attempts to fly over with one of those thrice-cursed pairs of boots. So Limmy has singlehandedly dug a tunnel underneath the wall. He must have moved several tons of earth, and is almost done. "Tomorrow!" he boasted, "we will finally break through. And then..." here his face turned reflective, "I will go somewhere without dirt."

That'll make Todd happy. We'll reclaim his ancestral home, all will be forgiven and forgotten between these two peoples, and I will stop fighting this dying race of seafarers. Stop fighting them, and then what? I am not a bloodthirsty warrior. I have no dreams of conquest. But I do not fool myself into believing that the future holds peace for me.

In the west, the world is burning. Smoke rises every day, and waves of broken and starving refugees have been staggering into our borders with tales of horror and destruction. The forces of R'lyeh have risen up from every deep place, and stained every beach in blood. For what mad purpose none can tell, but I know in my heart that I will march that way also, and fight this rising tide for as long as I can bear arms.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 53 ----

The space behind the wall was empty. We burned the blood-stained temple, and I appointed Karl to raise a new one in honor of Zeus. This high to the roof of the world, that seemed the judicious choice. I would have thought that Todd would be happy, but apparently this was only his ancestral summer villa, and Rod is getting all the glory up north taking back the real Firbolg fortress, and we must march there straight-away for he longs to walk those halls again, and climb those towers that once he climbed when the world was fresh and young and blah blah blah.

But the concerns of the Firbolgs pale in comparison to the menace of R'lyeh. Some Firbolgs themselves understand this. Although I've never met her, Maude (apparently the women Firbolgs are also naturally huge) sounds like a pragmatic warrior and a fine leader. Her weapon is known as the Sickle Whose Crop is Pain, so she clearly has no problem administering swift justice against miscreants. She writes me with disturbing news from the Sinking Lands. Ulde has been secretly trafficking in blood slaves again, hoping to discover new powers through the outpouring of innocent blood. She has even been defiling the steel ovens, using virgin blood to temper weapons which she sold to R'lyeh, for who knows what promises. Perhaps even worse, she has held the army there in check while the otherworldly spawn have ravaged the lands of our friends and neighbors- Man.

At last, Maude seized control of the army, imprisoned Ulde, and led a force out to try and relieve one of the few castles still controlled by Man. The battle before the gates of Madderein must have been epic, with hundreds on each side. Maude led the phalanx and mystics to decisive victory swiftly enough that one of the elder Starspawn (these are the main magicians of R'lyeh) even defected to our side, deciding that the tide had turned.

So I must leave the south in her large, capable hands. There is still a force of Man clinging to life on the edge of Vankara Sound. Todd and I will lead the troops there immediately and pray we are not too late. Limmy will fly ahead to confront a local count who has been aiding R'lyeh and attempt to convince him to join us, by force if necessary. The mystics have discovered wonderful things in the hidden valley, and I am inclined to allow them to browse their old books for a little while. We will need all their skill against this slippery foe, and they can join us later. Meanwhile, I send note after note to Rod up north, begging him to leave off his crazy pursuit of the last few Vans and join us against this much larger foe.

But there has been no word from him, though plenty of time for a message to get back. Either he is dead, or completely drawn into his mad quest for vengeance. Either way, for now it is just Todd and I with some 50 hypaspists against all the horrors of the deep. But I do not feel alone; Thymbre lives on in this place - in every sunrise and cool breeze I hear her voice and know that she is at peace. This time in the mountains has cleared my thoughts and left me ready to face whatever the last days of this world hold for me.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 54 ----

The news this month is all favorable, and I am worried. What storm waits behind this lull?

The storm is here already, of course, gathering force; it seems to manifest itself literally in the late summer thunderstorms that I would swear have been following me around. While patrolling by the river yesterday, we were attacked by a small band of emaciated soldiers of R'lyeh, who kept taunting us about eating our braaaaains and sucking the blood from our veeeeeins. They were not lightning-resistant, however, and I had but to raise Tempest and watch them fall, crackling. But there are more, far more, that we shall have to face.

Todd received word that Rod was victorious, and has spent so much time waxing rhapsodic about the glories of his ancestral home that I've been avoiding him. He keeps cheerfully muttering nonsense, like "Now all that is left is for the final gathering at the Isle, where shall be determined who shall rule the world, or be damned to hell for all eternity..." and I can only take so much pseudo prophetic mumbo-jumbo before feeling ill. Fortunately, there are other matters to attend to. Our brave scout Celarim, a veteran from Alexander's army still skulking with the best of them, somehow persuaded a small village of Vanheim to join our side so that they would have some protection against the coming tide. Limmy also was persuasive enough that the count (the count's daughter) came over to our (his) side without fighting. In other words, the north is almost at peace, and with little bloodshed.

Maude sent word that the Mannish castle was manned only by a few longbowmen, without even a commander; mostly they were men too old or too young to have been at the slaughter of the regular armies. The citizens of the castle were so grateful that a real army of men had come to defend them that they threw down their arms and welcomed us in. Apparently, they were afraid they would all have their brains sucked out if the forces of R'lyeh had broken through instead.

I do not know much about the strange dwellers in the deep: once, long ago, I received a clam from them, though I have since mislaid it. On occasion we have made small diplomatic exchanges of gems or trinkets, though I never thought we would sink to Ulde's level and traffic in slaves. I know that the creatures of R'lyeh are deeply feared: in the presence of the high Starspawn, it is said, you cannot hear your own thoughts, and your mind burns at the sight of them. They are led by a strange being whose names sounds something like "Thuloo" or "Cuthloo", who eats his foe on the battlefield. Their armies are legion. They say the very oceans of the deep fight for them. In dark times, I wonder what can men do against such reckless hate.

And then I remember the strength of the wind, the grandeur of the stars, and the gathering storm.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 53

Xlikloth has gone too far. He found some ancient temple in Man-lands and has decided now that he can pretend to be a god. I have enough loyal followers in his camp now that they will easily exile him from the army and send him fleeing into the sharp pointy-ness of Man.

The Arcoughphelae have marched a cute little army out against my forces in the east, breaking the siege on one of the last Man castles. They've always proved a pretty reasonable race, and have never been too great a threat, so I'm not overly worried. Still, it seems prudent to insert a spy to keep an eye on them. A brave starspawn has volunteered. In battle he pretended to be so influenced by the pitiful human magic that he offered to join their side- and the humans fell for it! If they like that I should try to sell them a wooden horse in Brooklyn.

I have ordered my smithies to whip me up some gear to replace the stuff I lost when I died back in the summer of aught 4. I've enjoyed my time here, recuperating in the depths, but I feel that great things are afoot and soon I shall have to again journey the sunlit lands and sucks brains. The only real threat left to me is Caelum, the bird-folk. They fester like a festering fest on the southern continent, and if they succeed in their little war against Abysia will rival me in strength. Time to strike now, while the metaphorical iron is still non-icy. But first... more armies... more leaders, more money. It was simpler back in the old country, when all you had to do was trigger supernovae in nearby stars to obliterate whole planets.

Re: MP Game - Yarnspinners
 

R'lyeh, Turn 54

The Vanheim used to be a marginally important race in the north, and are still kinda uppity about it. They snuck deep in lands held by me in a last ditch effort to make a difference before they are snuffed out forever. I believe I will just have to go up there in person. I have another reason for journeying into the dry place. Rumor has it that the Sleepers have awoken, and we all know what that means.

What? You don't know? Don't you ever read?

Actually, you can be forgiven, it's one of these silly human prophecies. Something about awakening for the final cataclysmic battle to decide the fate of the world. Which is all fine and dandy, except that they've taken up with the Arcos. The god of the Arcos is called Pandorkos, and he runs around with a sword that shoots lightning. My spy has been reading his letters to the Sleeper in the east: "Now all that is left is for the final gathering, where shall be determined who shall rule the world, or be damned to hell for all eternity..."

Sammy was very excited at this snippet or information, but was unable to tell me where this final battle would be, or why it might be so important. Somewhere on the eastern shores of Vankara sound, was all he could say. Luckily all that land is safely in my hands (barring a few tasty Van snacks). I've taken control of the northern fortress, I have another one to the south, and two (two!) in the sound itself. Ain't no way nobody gets through to fulfill their prophetic duty. But, while I'm above the waves I might as well take a look around and see if I can find any signs saying, "End of the world, this way. (5 km)"