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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
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You really entered the war for thematic reasons? It seems the story with the ship could have just as easily applied to T'ien Ch'i... Oh, and were those indie light infantry bought for thematic reasons? Because the Pythium commanders were laughing their heads off that those guys finally found a sucker to pay their outrageous prices. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Hey! No invading my Tien Chi Shangri-La!!!
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
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Rationally, I figured I could get away with increasing a buffer zone between big scary Pythium and small peaceful Vanheim while Pythium was (hopefully) busy with more serious threats. Thematically, I did want to dominate around the water. I've made that a theme in the yarns, the Vanheim/sailing thing. (For one of our many restarts, I had what is now Ulm's home, on the BIG lake; that would've been sweet...) As for the light inf, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time (sometimes "not rational" can mean "stupid"). |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
(This news story has pictures on the wiki)
Students Turn Back Pythium by E. John Smith (Editor's note: the text and artwork for this story were censored by Vanheim military officials.) In the last two months, I've witnessed an atrocity and a miracle. Last month, commandos from Pythium attacked the province of #####, inflicting heavy casualties on the civilian population. I saw women and children being driven through the streets as their homes burned. The local university was attacked and its scholars scattered. I myself fled with a group of students to the neighboring province of ######, with the invader close on our heels. But this month, it all changed. Led by ###### the ####, the students turned and stood their ground. Armed only with their own magical knowledge, and backed only by a few militia and a number of ##### ##### from the ####### ### ######## #####, these brave men and women stood against the grizzled veteran soldiers of the enemy. The battle was long and hard-fought, uncertain until the final moments. Wizards traded spells. Soldier slew soldier. As Vanheim's last militia fell, it seemed as if nothing could stop the ethereal bodies of the Pythium invaders. But two students held firm, summoning phantasmal warrior after phantasmal warrior, ######## after ########, until, at last, the Pythium invaders were forced to retreat. Today, the scholars are eager to return to their work, hoping to make yet another effort in the war with Pythium. Surely it will not be smaller than the effor they have already made. I have only seen one small part of this conflict, but if what I have witnessed is any guide, the brave hearts of the Vanheim people have nothing to fear from all the legions their enemy may throw at them. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Ghost
The peasants of Towen shiver under a bitterly cold sky. The land is rich enough, but the local lord is the last independent prince between Marignon and Pythium, and he has no desire to let either power learn that he has been letting his peons get above their station. I earn a living killing nobles and stealing what I can. Perhaps this earns me a few points in the Good Book. I awake to the blowing of clear trumpets and the straight columns of Pythium's legions. The full wealth of the depraved local prince has gone to equip a score of heavily armored knights. They clash across blighted farmland. Their chargers, fed on the grain denied starving people, do not falter. Their shields and lances come up and slam into the front lines of the legion... which hold. The knights are pulled down, the wealth of the land strewn broken across the frozen mud. That night, as the Pythium army enters the gates of the city, I pull a cloak over my undead friend and slip inside also. I don't know why. I've seen military occupation before. The peasants have too; they hide their babies. I watch a squad of soldiers turned looters, rapers, pillagers, kick down the door to one hut and draw their swords... One man in emerald armor grabs them by their belts and one-by-one tosses them over his shoulder, back into the street. He apologizes to the family huddled in fear, then takes the looters to the center of the city, reprimands them, and has them whipped in the flickering light. The city remains unlooted. The man is Brutus, prophet of the Pythium Oracle. I awake in the dead of night, back in the forest. That wretched pile of bones has picked itself up and is shambling toward the Pythium camp. I can't find the right words of deadel to make it stop. I follow it. Wouldn't do to have it killing people. The camp is utterly still, the sentries all asleep. The skeleton goes straight to one tent and raps on the doorpost with its knuckles, than falls into a dissembled pile. I approach, am I free at last? The door opens, it is Brutus, open-handed. "Yes, my lady?" I cannot speak. His eyes move to my ear. A smile crosses his lips. "Ah, it is that time. Well, you're frozen, please come in." Inside, he pours himself a glass of mulled wine. "Et tu?" I shake my head, my eyes are fixed on the many open coffins. "My friends," he says. "Men who I led many years. I have always sat one night with. But... tonight... The Oracle has told me; you are here to send me on as well." I shake my head. A flicker of confusion passes his face. Then rasps issue from my mouth. The nearby coffin lurches and a form leaps on Brutus. Unarmed, he rips the body's head off, but a second undead throws itself at Brutus' knees while the first, sans head, slams fists into Brutus' face. More coffins empty and Brutus keeps ripping bits off them as I watch. The din is awful, why don't the guards come? At last the dead have been torn into chunks too small to pose a threat. Brutus, winded, hideously bloodied, with a broken arm and clothes torn and bitten into tatters, gazes up at me with patient, gentle eyes. I stab him through the heart. I wake on the forest floor. It is finally spring, and my heart leaps. Has the past dark winter melted into dreamland? But my hands are still red with his blood. His face still floats in front of my waking eye. I am still fortunes' fool. I am still a pawn of fate. A clear trumpet and the straight columns of Pythium's legions are marching along the road I chose to sleep upon. I don't want to run anymore. Unbidden, dead forms spring from hidden graves under ash trees and three skeletons and I rush a full legion. The skeletons die in a hail of javelins, and I alone continue my headless charge-- yelling, pleading, daring the legion the kill me. I do not seek forgiveness from a forsaking God. I do not shout the name of the angel who has abandoned me. A javelin grows large in my vision. Esclave "Lord Wic, help me understand." "There's no need for the 'Lord' nonsense away from the city. Besides, my dear Esclave, you're nearly as skilled with magick as I, and of the two of us, only you have consorted with angels." "Just the one. And that is what I don't understand." "Ah, so this is going to be a question about women." Wic smiled and stopped walking. He leant against a tree and stared off into the distance, casting little fire darts which melted holes in the snow. For a moment, I just watched his calm demeanor. We were marching to war - on the road past us trudged a mercenary band of archers - but Wic looked like he was on the way to a Midwinter feast. "Does she love me?" Wic pursed his lips. "I think so. She went to bat for you against the inquisition, and that take madness or love. Did you know the Inquisition has never pardoned anyone before?" "By why did she order me to leave her? Why does she send me out to fight while she stays, studying the Compendium and talking long hours with the smiths?" "That I cannot say. One must always be careful dealing with supernatural creatures. Their ways are not our ways. Their goals are often inscrutable." For a moment I debated asking him about the insidious rumor I had hear- that Wic had made some sort of deal with the devils... but that was nonesense, and I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship. A few days later I watched, a little shocked, as Wic gleefully mashed the black hawk into a bloody mess of feathers and muddy snow with his mace. "Damn I hate those things." Then he smiled and drew a deep, satisfied breath. "Ah, it is good to be back out on the march. We'll have quite a feast tonight when those guards finish looting the city... Towen I believe they're calling it these days, though it's changed names many times while I've been archbishop of Wic. Maybe we can even liberate a few dancing girls to keep us company tonight." I vaguely murmured something, averting my eyes from the bloody smear and trying to fight down my nausea and fear. The implacable Pythium legion still loomed in my mind. On and on they came through the arrows and fire. A swarm of black hawks surrounded us, and we flailed them off. When we looked up again, the legion had scattered the line of our infantry and killed the leaders of the mercs. It was only at the last moment, as the longbows were firing nearly point blank, that they broke. Suddenly I shuddered. I came back from a long way. "Esclave, are you alright?" "I saw... a stone angel which turned to coal. It fell over into a pool and caught on fire. A dead man sat by it and roasted a lizard on an ashen stick." Wic waited a moment, then clapped me heartily on the shoulder. "Esclave, my boy, I do believe you've just had a vision. Let's go plunder some ale and you can tell me all about it." In the next weeks I searched for answers, as the peace of Carrofactum prevented the army from marching on. A guild of sages dwelt in Towen, and I sought them for advice on my visions and dreams. They advised me to seek the cave of passing time- I might find some answers there. Wic took some time off profiting from the fall of Town to search with me. Night was falling on a chill spring day when suddenly the sky went black and a score of hawks descended directly on us. I tried to strike back, but they clawed at my eyes and I couldn't remember a good spell to cast. Above the thunder of wings I heard Wic's calm voice in-canting, and steel being drawn. I turned and ran into the nearby wood, hands over my head. Suddenly I was alone in utter darkness. I could see stars ahead. I cried out. "Is there anyone there?" I am. "Who are you?" You already know me. I was pretty sure I did not, but was in no position to argue. "Are you the cave of lost time?" No answer. "Why am I seeing these signs?" The oracle in Pythium is powerful. This close to its dominions, all those attuned to the stars see signs. "What do they mean?" What you make of them. "That's no answer!" It is. As long as I had the ear of a cryptic advice-giver: "Why does Aftial do what she does? Does she love me? When will I see our son?" When snow falls in the morning it is beautiful and clean. But it falls on dirt, and human feet mix them together. Finally, it only appears clean at night. But a new day may dawn and the snow will melt. And when it does, it will carry the dirt away too. "Esclave!" Wic was shaking me awake. "Ah, good. You took quite a fall when those blighted birds attacked. You've been out for almost an hour. Here, I cooked you some black hawk. Have a thigh, it'll get you right again." Muszinger It will take me three months to reach the battle front. During that time, I will have to make crucial decisions for the kingdom without any one to advise me. Writing down the reports and orders may help. 2 months before Carrofactum: First strike. Our lizard allies are wavering in their commitment. There are too many legionnaires in the towers on their borders. Our declaration of war should help draw those legions north so they'll be caught flat-footed when the lizards also strike. Sir Gawain and some mercs will head south from Camelot, while Raymond leads more knights onto the Plains of Eternal Peril. Wic and Polgrave will each lead an army due south for the main strikes. 1 month before Carrofactum: Birds everywhere. Some foul enchantment to summon the things. Welsh, Ucrema and Tapanete have all been hit hard, but the province defenses held everywhere except the last. The prophet of Pythium has been killed by a servant under Aftial's direct control. His army, stranded, was driven out of Towen by Wic. Gawain and Polgrave have both advanced against strong province defense and many birds, but they have taken the plains with minimal losses. Vanheim has cast their lot in with us. Carrofactum: Peace for a month, though our faithless allies and enemies do not recognize this most holy time: Man has joined the fray with an animal attack on the eastern edge of Pythium. Closer to home, a Pythium force of nearly one hundred with powerful mage support is in Great Woods. I will summon all the men who can get there to the province of Towen. To reach there myself I must abandon my slow bodyguard, but the LORD will protect me. Aftial will join us there, and I will finally take command of the army and put a swift end to this false oracle and this war. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
See the wiki for pictures
<h3> Marignon proclaims a new saint, St. Onbec the Angry </h3> Onbec began life as a simple spy in the service of Marignon. As the war with Pythium began, he provided crucial information to military leaders on the location of heathen forces, but upon entering the Forest of Saran, Onbec passed into legend. This little grove, on the very doorstep of the capitol city of Pythium, was a particular insult to God. A temple to the false prophet of Pythium was used to train foul druidic mages, and a graveyard there was regularly ransacked for the foul potency which can be extracted from the dead. When Onbec saw this, the righteous anger of the LORD came over him. He called on Aftial, goddess of courage, took up his broad sword and attacked the four guards at the temple. As he approached, Onbec was hit by a rock, flung from a cowardly slinger. Despite this wound, which will leave him permanently weakened, Onbec was able to rout the entire force, killing two of the unbelievers, sending another fleeing, and capturing the leader. This craven centurion proved to be commander of all Pythium forces in the forest, and he quickly surrendered the entire province into the hands of Onbec. Not content to rest there, Onbec single-handedly tore down the false temple, digging up the very foundations and uttering removing this abomination. When word of this miraculous victory reached Marignon, the Three of Three immediately decided to take the unusual step of canonizing Onbec while he yet lives, naming him St. Onbec the Angry, and making him patron saint of all spies and scouts. His sign shall be the simple board sword, and those who need strength may pray to God in his name. The Church attempted to recall him from the front lines, but St. Onbec has disappeared again into the wild, there to report on the motions of the heretics, and carry the anger of the LORD against His enemies. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Ah, poor overseer, now I shall never get my pearls!
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
'tis always the good die young.
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Overseer News Network Suffers Near Death Scare
Overseer (ONN) - Cut out of the loop on the largest news stories in Inland in years, disgruntled staffers at the ONN staged a brief rebellion earlier this month that threatened the very survival of their tiny, omniscient land. The revolt, which caught most nations by surprise, was motivated by outrage at the growing habit of nations to bypass official news sources entirely, issuing their own propagandist, heavily censored reports about the War Against Pythite Passive-Agression. Rumor has it the reporting team for the First Ulm-Ermor Conflict also turned out to decry the dearth of news from that sector, though their protest was itself rather muted. The rebellion was quickly put down when the Overseer himself stepped in, and yelled "cut", in response to the cries of outrage from the community of nations. Said Cibragol, greedy leader of the beleaguered, but deadly, Pythium empire, "Now I shall never get my pearls!" The momentary re-writing of history caused some confusion worldwide. C'tis is reported to have learned that they were always at war with Eastasia, assassins everywhere tried to claim double kills, and in the kingdom of T'ien Ch'i, nothing happened. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Vanheim turn 27
In which we learn what Belletennares saw while strolling, and what Pherios did about it. Belletennares "Well," said Vethru. "You've thrown them out of Vanheim. Congratulations." I nodded. That the plan would work, I had been confident; that it would continue to work, I was uncertain. Our forces, though highly mobile, were spread thin. The enemy could very easily, once again, infiltrate its forces into our territory at almost any point. That we could expel them as easily was little comfort. The disruption, we could not afford. Vethru continued. "When will you throw them out of Fom and Great Woods?" "Soon," I said. "And Iron Range? I need to get into that tower!" "Reinforcements have arrived; I will storm the castle soon." "Excellent." "And what then?" I asked. "What is our next target?" "Whatever you want. Just keep what we have." "And the war? When does it end?" He smiled. "Will it ever? Your nephew doesn't think so. He's starting to sound as apocalyptic as the Marignonians," he said. "No matter. Use your judgment, unless I tell you otherwise." As I saw him to the dock, I wondered: when does the risk become too great? We have no hope of massive conquest against our more powerful neighbors, yet we cannot be left out of the spoils. Vethru's wink, as he was rowed away, told me that he knew exactly the dilemma he had left me with. Later, I walked the night alone. My small dose of Alteion's gift is peripatetic; as I wander, my mind drifts, and my feet bring me to visit places where the future impinges on the present. This night was portentous. I walked deeper in dream than is usual, visiting many locations, each more ominous than the last. I cannot say which of them truly existed and which were only landscapes contained in my own imagination. Of this, though, I am sure: I was drawn by destiny, towed by a thin hawser through the heaving swells of possibility. I paced along the campfires circling the walls we besieged. As I walked on the beach, I startled a nest of seagulls. I inspected the dying embers of a pyre, of what, I do not know. I visited a graveyard, dark and still. Through the night, I felt the presence of my nephew Pherios beside me, as if I were guiding him, or acting as his proxy on roads he could not tread himself. Perhaps my small gift had become an agent of his, or perhaps it truly was the gift of Alteion's house, and we but shared it in common. He walked with me, I felt, when I encountered the dark rider. I came upon it as it rode down a fleeing victim on a straight, dark road overhung by trees. I watched its terrible blade rise and fall. "Who are you?" I called. "The enemy of your enemies," it replied, in a chill whisper. It coughed, and it sounded to me like the bark of the hounds of Hel. "Will you come home?" I asked, or perhaps Pherios asked, through me. At the time, the question seemed appropriate; in retrospect, puzzling. It flinched. I heard the rustle of mail under its black cloak. "I have found no path but sorrow," it said. As it wheeled its horse, I could see the horse's reins were wrapped around the stump of its left hand. It galloped into the night. I would not have credited the experience with any truth, or even any reality outside my own unquiet mind, but the next morning, my scouts reported finding the body of a Pythium deserter, on a straight, tree-lined road, cut down by a rider, left in festering decay. I detailed my memories in script and dispatched it immediately to Pherios, with the day's reports. Pherios Later that afternoon, I returned to Petema's house, bruised and unsuccessful. Molly was still working in the library. She looked up when I walked in. "Sir..." "Pherios," I corrected her. It had taken her almost a month to learn to speak to me informally, but every now and then, especially when she was nervous, she returned to her old ways. "Pherios," she said, with concern. "Are you hurt?" I thought I had washed away the blood. She must have seen my puzzlement. "I heard it," she explained. "About it, I mean." No blood, then. It never gets easier, being around a seer. "Tell me." "Someone was reporting to Vethru. Vethru asked if you were injured. The other man, a messenger, said, 'Not too badly. She had no choice. He wouldn't leave.' Vethru thanked him, and I heard the door close." After getting my uncle's note, I had thought it was time to press forward. I tried to convince Kestumaia to tell me what happened to Galameteia. She refused, and when I insisted, she and her Valkyrie friends threw me out. Hard. "And then..." said Molly. "There's more?" "I heard another voice. One I didn't know." "What did it say?" "First, Vethru asked, 'Where is she?' " Molly said. "Then, the other voice said, 'We're not sure; we lost track after she left Iron Range.' " I didn't think there was anyone important she hadn't met in the last month. I asked her to describe the voice. "It was odd, kind of small. I couldn't tell if it was a woman or child, or I guess it could even be a man with a high voice. It was almost musical but also kind of coarse." Quellian Ji knew something! I couldn't believe I'd overlooked Ji. I hadn't seen him much recently, since he spent most of his time with Vethru. But he knew something about Galameteia. "Who? Who is it?" she asked anxiously. For her, it was as important to recognize the voices she heard as it was for me to decipher the symbols the birds represented. "Please?" she said. I could hear the tension in her voice. It wouldn't leave her until she knew. "It's Quellian Ji. You've seen him. He's Vethru's seagull." "Is he Vethru's familiar?" I couldn't tell if she was frightened or just confused. A plan started to form in my mind. "No, just an advisor. You should meet him..." * * * Ji flew in the window of the library and landed on the table. "Hi, kid, it's been a long time." "Molly isn't here yet," I said. "Make yourself at home." "Thanks. How have you been? Hey, can I have some of these blueberries?" "Go ahead," I said, and while he was occupied, I closed the only open window in the room. I sat down at the table. "Let's talk about Galameteia." "C'mon, kid. You know the boss won't let me." Then he noticed how serious I was, and he looked around the room at the closed windows and doors. "Oh, crap. Look, Pherios, I'd like to. But boss says no. I can't talk about what happened...then." "I want to hear that story eventually, but today, I'd like to know where she is now." A pause. He wasn't going to give anything away. "You know I can't say anything." I leaned forward. "Do you think you're leaving before you do?" He squawked. "Sorry, kid, but you don't scare me as much as him. The worst you can do is torture and kill me, and you're too nice for that." "I need to know!" I said. I didn't know if he was right. I didn't know if I wanted him to be right or not. "No, you don't," he said, softly. "You really don't." "There's a hole in my heart, Ji. It's still bleeding. It won't stop until I see her again." "Just forget it. Please." "It's destined," I told him. "I see it constantly. It won't leave me alone. I know, it won't fix anything. But it needs to end. Until I see her, until I know what happened, I can't rest. I know it's a blade waiting to fall, so let's be done with it. I need to move on." "Jeez, kid!" "Please! Help me. Have you ever lost someone, and not known what happened?" He flattered his wings. "Damn. Let me think...look, I don't know. I guess I know somebody. I can ask..." "Thank you." "Don't thank me, kid. I ain't doing you a favor." "I know," I said. "I've seen it." "OK. Just promise me this--don't tell him. He finds out, you saw all in a vision, right? Leave me out of it." "All right," I said, and I got up and opened the window. Ji flew to the sill. "Good luck, kid. Hey, I will see you again, won't I? You aren't, uh, looking for the easy way out?" "We'll meet again, friend. There are no easy ways out. Not anymore." * * * I found the rendezvous point without much difficulty. It was within Vanheim, near a secluded waterfall in dense forest. The stream was only six or eight feet wide, and the waterfall was not much taller. Quellian Ji's contact rode up on the opposite side of the stream, silently, in the manner of the Vanir, out of the green. Although she rode, she wore the scale mail of a Valkyrie. She wore a full helm, with its visor down. A white cloak trailed behind her. She did not dismount. I bowed deeply, and she nodded in return. "A great wrong has been done to her, and to you" she said. "It will not be undone if you see her." Her voice was hollow in her helm, yet hoarse as well. "I know, Lady." "It will not ease your heart, or your mind." "That I also know." She fidgeted with the reins. "I want to help you, son of Alteion. But I am not sure you know what is best for yourself. Your choices are born of pain. Do you still see clearly?" "I wish I didn't. It is fated, Lady. It blocks my path. Until it is over, I cannot be whatever I must be." "Very well. I will contact you, when it is time." She turned her horse to leave. "Have courage, dear Pherios. Afterward, if you have need of me, tell Ji." The familiarity I had been feeling in her presence coalesced. It was she that wrote an anonymous note to me half a year ago. "Do I know you, Lady?" As she disappeared, she called, "I am forgotten and remembered." I looked up to the sky, and two white birds flew across a streak of blue breaking through the canopy. Peace, at last? |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
(Sorry it's a little late... don't get much time for yarning during the week these days.)
--- C'tis, Turn 27 Deep in the rock, there is a crypt. The paths to it are tortured and misleading, and few each generation are inducted in their secrets. It is said that no invader could find them without a traitor's help; but no invader has threatened C'tis in the oldest lizards' dimmest recollections of the stories of their grandsires. It holds the remains of the past, and perhaps the future as well. Hema wonders if dropping the bones of Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandmother Simith (so the tag reads) is sacrilege. She decides that if the council had wanted the bones retrieved perfectly intact, they might have hid them someplace a little more easy to reach. "Or else assigned some hatchlings to help me carry them," she mutters. But the hatchlings are all training for war, and the other sauromancers are too busy with mysteriously vague tasks to assist Hema with the heavy lifting. "You are so much more knowledgeable in the ways of the dead than I," one of them had the nerve to tell her, as he begged off. Bodimmud, that was his name, and he was even younger than she was. But Bodimmud was marching off to war in a few days, and there was so much to pack, so many incantations to review... Hema treacherously hoped something heavy fell on him in battle, as karmic recompense. Finally, she reaches the opening to a large, well-lit cavern. She places the box containing Simith next to Great-to-the-somethingth Grandfather Uvatha, and dozens more, some whose names are still familiar to the city, others who died so long ago they are nearly dust. So long as the skull remains, she recalls from the scroll that lies open on a table, worn from heavy use. Not all of the wise can return as revenants, but so long as the skull remains, their wisdom is not lost. Larch is putting the finished touches on Kurgarru when Hema walks into the lab. "Guild's been keeping you busy with their backlog, I see," says Hema. But then, it's easier to bring back the newly dead, and the Guild is a good source of bright young minds. Too good, sometimes. Larch nods, looks up, stares inquiringly. He makes as if to speak, then reaches for a tablet. "DID YU FIND HER??" he scrawls. It is ironic; most revenants can speak, after a fashion, but the former masterful spinner of yarns lost his vocal cords to the illness that also claimed his life. And he never bothered to learn to write; let others take down his masterful words. Larch is learning now. Mother Lalek even says the hatchlings are over their initial terror of his shriveled, bony form in her classes. Mostly. "Yeah, right where you said she'd be," says Hema. "But, um, her bones were too cracked... when I found her, I mean..." and dropping them while trying to wedge the box out of its hiding hole hadn't helped matters, but Hema wasn't bringing that up. Simith had been pretty far gone when she found her. Larch nods again. She can tell he is disappointed; he clearly remembers the wise elder from his youth fondly, and is sad that she will not be joining him as a revenant. But all is not lost. Larch points to Kurgarru, who is starting to twitch randomly; in a few days, perhaps he will be able to lower his arm-stump from where it lies locked above his head, vainly trying to ward off a cavalry captain's looming lance. Larch points again, nods toward the other room. His meaning is clear. He has found someone for his old mentor to teach. Or her skull, at any rate. Now that that's been decided, Larch turns to his next task. Leaning heavily on his skull staff, he shuffles over to the workbench containing former Guildmaster Nanugal, who lived, and died, for his experimental strong poisons. There is little that can harm a revenant, but Larch is taking no chances with this one. He reaches for his thickest dragon-hide gloves, the ones Cole will never know exist, if he can help it. Hema descends back into the crypt for another long journey. C'tis needs its dead now, their knowledge, their secrets. Every bone helps, in the war with Pythium. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Quantum,
Nice yarns. Is Pythium perchance in need of another 10 astral pearls? Seriously though, they were fun to read. You've had the library in Barra for a long time now, haven't you? It would be a shame if something were to... happen to it. Tauren, Turn? |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Quote:
The astral certainly will be welcome, I believe I've only received 5 pearls for all of my yarns so far... Anyway, I really got the short end of the stick when we re-ran that turn, so the overseer owes me. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/wink.gif |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Tauren is moving into a rent house with his college buddies and his system is down for a while. It will probably be a few more days for the next turn.
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Panther,
Thanks for letting us know. I'm okay with the pause... if nothing else, Quantum seems to be using his idle time to good effect http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Yeah, and writing turn 30 is giving me problems. Extra time = OK.
Vanheim wants to know more about Pythium's tax code. Is there a big break for Extra-Territorial Independent Economic Opportunity Zones in Depressed Regions? [Edit] I ask because I worry about potential impending annexation... |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Great googly-moogly! quantum is unstoppable! Six yarns in 3 days! See the wiki if you haven't already!
Let that be a lesson to all of us...it's never too late to get a few (or more than a few!) words in! (Well, that blew my quota of exclamation points for the month. Now I have to be serious until the new shipment comes in on Oct. 1.) |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
All,
I will pick Tauren up at the airport tomorrow. I will let him use my laptop while he is home from college for the next two weeks. He will thus be able to get this game going again. Look for the next turn to be made tomorrow afternoon, followed by my nearly completed Turn 30 yarn. However, there is a question we must all answer. When I spoke with him yesterday, he informed me that Ermor has not made a move in quite a while. Tauren has been making partial moves for Ermor for quite a while, just to keep Ulm from having an easy time of invading a staling player. I think we should ask Tauren to move Ermor to AI. It is not fair for our host to have to do quickie partial turns for an absent player. And it is certainly not fair to allow a player to overun an absent nation. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Sounds like turning Ermor to AI is a reasonable solution, but I would first send a courtesy email to Zen first.
Pasha |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
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Of course, if you are truly worried about anexation, you should know it is not to late to switch sides... The Empire has a long history of rewarding kingdoms that support the purple banner. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
With the roll back going two turns, I suggest we all just re-send our Turn 29 .2h files from our old emails.
Does this sound right to everybody? Also, Zen does appear to have dropped off the planet. Maybe he lives in New Orleans... |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
I just resent my original Turn 29. So I sure hope Quantum's doing the same thing... http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
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As a side note, the battle of Boggdarn Weald is as strange as ever... |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Resending our turn 29 .2h files should work-- I know that's what I did last time. Of course the results of those commands will be slightly different due to randomness, and we'll have to actually replay our turn 30s, but nothing can be done about that.
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Oh, I thought turn 29 was rerun as well. Nevermind then.
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
It is definitively a re-run turn, and not the previous turn 29, so I would strongly against using the previous .2h files: any change *could* create a problem with the game, though it should be able to protect itself from mild changes (if you sent an already dead soldier to fight, or have someone diseased in the fatherland and not in the .trn file, or...).
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
I guess my question is this. I launched a sneak attack on Pythium in the old turn 29 with a tiny force, and if he just raised his province defense a few ticks he could have defeated it. Similiarly with those black hawk attacks he's so fond of. So should we be allowed to raise province defense, knowing now where we're much more likely to be attacked? Or should we try to hew as closely to the original turn as possible and not let turn 30 affect our troop movements?
For the record, I didn't notice any difference in my turn; still the same mindless plant creatures as a random event, even... |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
I will replay 29 "identically" from notes. I'm good at double-think.
Re: Ermor: setting to AI is the right thing to do, as disastrous as it will be for me and Panther (and perhaps others). Massive Ermorian hordes are poised to roll south into our territories, and I suspect all our forces are engaged fighting the other purple. I feel like such a slacker for not finishing yarn 30 yet...this weekend, I hope! Sincere congratulations to quantum for catching up in the stories, and thanks for the helpful cast of characters list. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
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I think this is the only way to be fair, since the players now know exactly what there opponents were doing. The only problem we might have is if someone did not save the old email with the Turn 29 file in it. Tauren lost all the old emails (they are on his missing computer which he cannot get for another 2 weeks), so they will all have to be sent to him again. Thus, as long as everyone still has there old 2h file from Turn 29, then just send it in. If someone involved in the current wars does not have the old 2h file, we may have to completely start over. Also, I recommend turing Ermor to AI this move, with Zen having totally disappeared. There is actually one other option. We can pause the game for 2 weeks until Tauren gets his computer back from his school. He will then have the old Turn 29 plus all the 2h files from Turn 30. Unless his school deletes all his files for him, that is, which should not happen. |
Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
By the way, I did finish my Turn 30 yarn. But with the potential big changes in the game, I fear I will have to re-write most of it.
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
It is the same turn 29 that I sent out before, so if you did save your 2h file, definitely send that one in.
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Oh, I see the problem now: I overlooked the first turn 29, so that second turn 29 was definitively different from anything I had played before... since I didn't play it at all.
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Re: PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2
Vanheim turn 30...and lo, a prophesy from turn 0 has now been fulfilled.
In which Pherios finds out. Pherios "Be there by nightfall," the note said. A courier's leather message bag was given to me. I rode to Venna, to a place outside the city, on the shore of the gorge. There, just as described, I found the dark tunnel where the city's storm sewers emptied into the water. I built a small fire while I waited, but it could remove neither the chill in the autumn air nor the chill in my heart. I dreaded this meeting. I knew I would be fundamentally changed by it, and not for the better. I searched the sky for hints, but everything was quiet. Perhaps it held back, knowing it couldn't visit anything on me so terrible as what I sought of my own free will. I woke suddenly to the sun on my face and a boot in my ribs. "Get up, wretch," a coarse voice said. "Give me the messages." I stumbled to my feet, dumbstruck. The creature, cloaked and hooded in black, took the bag from me with its one good hand and limped away. Could this be her? This crippled thing, reeking of decay? I wasn't even sure the form before me was female. "Wait! Galameteia? Is it you?" It turned. "Who calls me that?" It was her height, but everything else was wrong. Galameteia was graceful. This thing limped and lurched. Did I see a string of matted hair straying out of its hood? I tried not to look away. "Don't you know me?" I asked. "I'm beyond names." It studied me. "Do I know you, mortal man?" "Yes! You do! What happened to you? What happened to your hand? Why are you limping?" "Damn fool, I'm falling apart. I was not created well." "By who?" Created? Maybe it wasn't her. "What have you stirred in me?" it said. "I feel my guts twist. Who are you? What's your name?" "Pherios," I said. "Remember?" It snorted. "My memory is no more solid than my body," it said, and it erupted in a fit of coughs. It dropped the messages and bent over in spasms. Flecks of wetness spattered the dirt by my feet. When it straightened, its hood fell open. "Oh, no," I whispered. It was Galameteia's face, and it was the face of a dead thing. Her hair hung ragged and dirty around her pallid skin. She was burned on the left side, and it hadn't healed. Char flaked from grey, raw flesh. Her left eye was fused shut, and her right was shot with blood. My eyes squeezed shut. I swallowed, fought to keep my gorge from rising. "You're like all the others," she said. "You're repulsed by me. But this time I feel hurt. Why?" "We were...friends," I said. She thought for a moment that felt like an hour. "I don't remember it," she said. "Still...there is something..." Her good hand rose to finger something hanging from a chain around her neck. It flashed blue in the sunlight. I almost reached for the jewel. I wanted to, but I couldn't step any closer to her. "What is that?" "A charm," said Galameteia. "I don't know what it does." Why had I come here, when everyone warned me not to? They were right. Every word was pain. I'd found her body, but her soul was gone. "It doesn't do anything. It's jewelry," I said. "I gave it to you after the first night we spent together." She raised it to her good eye, studied it. "Was it spring?" she asked, uncertainly. "Was it?" It had been very late in winter, almost spring. Was she remembering? Or was she guessing, with nothing of my Galameteia left in her? "It doesn't matter," I said. "You are not who I was looking for. I'm sorry." She dropped the gem to her chest. "Then go, you who claimed to be a friend," she said. Or it said, whatever it was that wore Galameteia's skin now. "This is my destiny, pain and sorrow until my ending. You've brought me another share. Go, before your words drag more suffering out of my heart." It coughed again, and I thought I saw something crawl in the sputum in the dirt. It was too much. I backed away, struggling to control my pounding heart. I'd wanted closure, risking my sanity to see her. Would my happy memories of Galameteia remain unpoisoned by this encounter? I didn't know. "Nothing is left of me but horror," it said, "And every link is broken, save the one binding me to earth. I wish I could fly again." It trudged into the sewer tunnel. I stared after it. As I lost sight of it, I heard an awful, echoing howl of pain and grief. Later I could not recall if it was hers or mine. * * * A week and a half later, Ji brought me a message. "Sorry, kid," he said, before he flew away. "Go to Rhetha," the note said. "Bring her back, to the peaks." It was unsigned, but I recognized the hand of the white rider. So Galameteia was gone, this time, forever. Did I feel sorrow? Relief? Did I fall apart again? No--I felt numb. There was nothing left. Without telling anyone, I donned my armor and rode for Rhetha. I searched for hours before I found her trail, but when I did, it was unmistakable. The first bolt of fire killed her horse. She'd limped for almost a mile when the second hit her. After the third, she could only crawl. When the seventh and last struck her, she was just in sight of the place where my uncle told us, a year ago, how his undead troops were hit by holy fire. Then I did collapse, next to her charred bones. She remembered. She had remembered me, and she tried to reach a place we had been together, so I could find her. And that meant she must have known what would happen to her in Rhetha. Had I woken that in her? When I met her, seeking only closure for myself, did I cause her such sorrow that she would take her own life? Had it been too late to save her? If she had remembered, I should have known. I should have sensed it. I could have done something, eased her pain. But I was blind to everything but my own supposed destiny, and my own selfish desire to bury the painful past. I'd failed her, again. I pulled her sword from underneath the bones and fused mail. It shimmered in sickly rainbows, as if coated with patches of oil. I felt a chill from it as I brought its tip close to my left hand. My palm numbed. I turned my hand over and let the tip of the blade rest on the back of my hand. The skin grew an angry pink, and in a moment, I could no longer feel anything in my hand. Blisters formed, then grew and merged. They burst, exposing raw, red meat under flowing pus. I felt nothing, either in my hand or my heart. As the open wound spread, I wondered how far it would go before I felt something. When I saw bone? When I lost my hand, like her? Then a voice called, "Pherios!" I started, and the blade jerked away from my hand. It started to sting. I stood up. Approaching me from across the waste was Molly, riding one of Vanheim's mountain-bred ponies. She left her horse near mine, and she walked toward me slowly, edging sideways, as if she were afraid of me. She caught sight of Galameteia's body, or my hand, or both. "Vethru preserve us," she said, and she stumbled and dropped to her knees, vomiting. I heard a distant bird cry. An egret? I didn't know. I wanted to believe so. It woke me. I dropped the baneful blade and went to Molly. I held back her hair until she finished, then led her away from Galameteia to the horses, where I gave her some water. "Are you all right?" I asked. "Are you?" she whispered. "What are you doing here? How did you find me?" There was no way she could track me, a Van. "I followed the echoes," she said. She was still very pale, and she stared at the seeping wound on my hand. "Of what?" "Your footsteps. The sound of your horse's shoes on the rock," Molly said. "I came because...I heard you dying. I thought. But you're OK! You won the fight. With that thing." And had I been fighting, what could she have done, alone? But I realized it didn't matter, because she had saved me. I looked at my hand. It hurt badly. "Let me," she said. She washed it, and out of her saddlebags she pulled cloth and scissors. Of course. A tailor's daughter. "We need balm for this," she said. "Soon." "I know. Thank you. I can't tell you what you saved me from," I said, as Molly neatly dressed my hand. "No. That's not right. I can. You're in the midst of this. You deserve to know what it's about. Do you want to know? Can I tell you everything?" She was scared. Her fingers fumbled as she pinned the bandage in place, and she'd probably been pinning cloth since before she could walk. "It'll be hard," I told her. "You'll hear terrible things. But this is the world we live in. You can handle it, if you want to." She nodded, once. Somehow I knew, this was right. I would try not to scare her, but she would be frightened--probably terrified. Before, I had wanted to push her away to spare her this kind of tragedy, but now I knew that none of us would be spared. What I could do is help her understand. I'd make sure of it. "Her name was Galameteia," I said, "And I loved her. She had a gift, like you, like me..." * * * It was late the next evening before we reached the rocky peak of Mount Graizon, on the Vanheim border. Even wearing my cloak, Molly shivered in the cold. "I don't see a tomb," she said. "You are right, Vans are buried in stone," I said, as I laid Galameteia's body on the rocks. "We place our dead underground, beneath the temples in the cities. But for those called to be Valkyries, it is different." I opened the canvas I'd wrapped her in. There wasn't much left of her. Her armor I'd left in the wastes, for some future traveler to wonder over. The gem I'd given her was in my pocket. I wore her sword. Little remained of cloth or flesh on her bones. What there was smelled of char and decay. It would do. I stepped back. "We should have a holy man," Molly said, nervously. "I've studied the rites all my life," I said. "Your people would call me a priest." Then I conducted the funeral ceremony, with no witnesses save Molly and the wind. "Good-bye, my twice-mourned love," I whispered. I walked back to my horse and mounted. Molly, confused, said, "Wait--where are you going?" "It's done. It's time to head back." "You can't leave her here!" "Mount up," I told her. "We'll find shelter for the night lower on the slope." "But--" "Valkyries are creatures of the air; the carrion birds and the elements will take her now. That is the way we do things." She followed me, reluctantly, looking back several times over her shoulder at the body. It was hard to leave Molly, the next day, when reached the road to Vanheim. I had grown to like her, and now, just as I realized how I could help her, I couldn't stay with her. She cried when we parted, and I promised her I would write whenever I could. I gave her a message for Petema, then I rode away into the forest. Vethru had used Galameteia in his search for something, and it killed her. I needed to know why. I needed to know what was so important, what was worth the life of my lover. I had been a student all my life. My father taught me politics, history, theology, and magic. My mother taught me riding and stealth. My uncle taught me the arts of war--weapons, strategy, and tactics. For two years, I had read every report of every scout and commander in Vanheim. I was prepared. It was time to put my education into practice. Others would worship him; I would question. Others would obey. I would argue. Whatever the cost, I would uncover the truth. I would face god and demand that he justify his actions. Let my visions react to me. I sighted a falcon flying into the valley. I turned my back on it and rode into the hills. |
Modified Turn 29
Please note that your old Turn 30 2h-file will NOT work on the new Turn 30. Trying to use the old file will cause either a stale or a game error.
Therefore, all players must play Turn 30 from scratch. Feel free to change anything and everything, since the old Turn 30 orders were never executed anyway. |
Re: Modified Turn 29
Note to all players: I have asked the Overseer to delay hosting since there are delicate negotiations betrween several nations going on right now. These should be resolved in the next day or two and the game can then be hosted afterwards.
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Re: Modified Turn 29
I'd be happy to sub for the perpetually staling zen, if that is possible. At least ermor will have some troops http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif
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Re: Modified Turn 29
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I suppose I'd prefer a non-writing human to an AI. |
Re: Modified Turn 29
Ermor is already AI, sorry. But thanks all the same...
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Re: Modified Turn 29
Well, he can always have my own nation, if he wants: it's not one of the top dogs, though, but it's pretty much involved (I made a post a month ago or so about my status in this game).
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Re: Modified Turn 29
A shame we delayed the game so long for negotiations, just when they were about resolved I was staled, I guess I am AI now.
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Re: Modified Turn 29
Wait, how did you stale? I myself definitely experience some commanded moves from your troops, and so have other people I've talked to. Was a wrong version of your turn 30 used, perhaps?
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Re: Modified Turn 29
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Something\'s Wrong
Hi:
http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/fear.gif Something is wrong with my turn. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/fear.gif I suddenly have a River Demon that can act as a commander (which is highly unusual without gift of reason). Also, I have a shade or something (one of those death-spies), and I am pretty sure I did not recruit one. Finally, the game says I cheated, and I don't think that is possible because I wouldn't know how (technology-wise). As a possible remedy, I deleted the files in the game folder and re-saved the latest turn file from Tauren's email to me. No dice. Same problem. Pasha |
Re: Something\'s Wrong
Hmm, something sounds very weird. Perhaps Quantum's old turn was used, and that's what's causing the wierdness?
PashaDawg, I discovered that I have a new commander called Kaspar the City Guard. Also a gift of reason offense, except I don't have anywhere near the ability to GoR anyone. Perhaps I'll notice more badness if I look harder. On a scale of weirdness, the you-cheating message (which I've seen more than once for innocent parties) barely registers. I think we should rerun. Quantum should submit a new turn 30 and try his darndest to not react to his knowledge of what happened in turn 31. Much as I like Kaspar the friendly and preternaturally reasonable city guard... he kind of gives me the creeps. |
Re: Something\'s Wrong
I feel left out. I didn't get anything but a visit from Pythium.
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Re: Something\'s Wrong
Hmm... I didnt realize that was an old turn 30 file I had. I gave you all weekend to play your turn, so I thought anyone who hadnt already done so would have by then. This turn was actually supposed to be due last wednesday, for gods sake. I will rerun it later tonight... whether or not I recieve an updated turn from quantum.
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Re: Something\'s Wrong
Thanks, Tauren.
I actually like the Water Demon commander, but I will give him up. Pasha |
Re: Something\'s Wrong
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Re: Something\'s Wrong
Ugh, I lost my usb stick with my portable thunderbird on it, and I cant get my email working otherwise at my moms house. Sorry for the delay. I dont know when Ill be able to host the turn.
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Re: Something\'s Wrong
Thanks, Tauren, for persisting. My turn 31 looks A-OK.
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