MP Game - Yarnspinners

[Sheap]

Late Summer, Year 1 (Turn 5)

It seems my lack of faith in Oginga the Prophet was well founded.

It's a little known fact that, during the off years, a god does some observing. After all, when you're dead, there's not much to do besides be mellow. So we can see the world, through the eyes of Prophets. We call it PropheTV. All the resting gods can do this - well, except for Old Scratch, who lost his remote control. Spent 200 years going through his sofa cushions looking for it. Turned out he left it in his other pants. It took him aeons to live that down. 'Course, he got the Last laugh, he's set up a similar torture for the dead mortals in the Third Circle. He shows them nothing but Hee-Haw reruns, and whenever they get up off the sofa to look for the remote, he kicks them. Once the mortals invent television, they'll even understand what's going on. Well, as much as anyone could.

Anyway, it's only once we come out into the world that we can only see through the eyes of our own prophet. And it makes me a little glad, because if any of these other deities could see this, I'd be the new laughingstock.

Oginga led his merry troop of followers into the Great Expanse, with nary a care in the world. What sort of a prophet has nary a care? Talk about irresponsible. Does anyone ever use nary to measure anything other than the level of care?

Suddenly, he ran into a band of enemy horsemen. The horsemen cut his followers down like so much chaff, and Oginga - say what you will about his intelligence, he was brave - charged right in. And then they cut him down too. A prophet looks much like an ordinary footsoldier, through the eye slits of a suit of full plate.

'Course, maybe they were doing me a favor. I've never seen such an inept prophet in my life, as that term applies to me. I can see now that if I am to spread my authority away from the sacred mountains and forests, I will have to do it myself.

On the positive side, the Crossbowmen led by Rolf Magnus seem to have tired of the cold land of death where they toiled, and will now toil for me in a glaring land of heat. It'll be like a vacation for them.

[YellowCactus]

Mictlan (Turn 6)

Within the Dominion of Sethra screams of birth began to drown out screams of sufferage. The templerate, cloaked in thick robes of cotton, have created the Jaguar Brigades. Quiet and noctural, these mystical warriors are seldom seen. Rumors circulate of a demonic origin, yet the peoples dare not protest.
-Yc

[Cheezeninja]

-Abysia turn 6-

It seems that all are not happy with the way i have determined things shall be, especially those who feel I am muscling in on their livestock. While i was off conquering peasants Frithigern, a Vampire Count of modest ability actually got up enough courage to oppose me and after raising up a small army of militia, thralls, and vampire whelps, he has dared to lay siege to my own castle. In ancient days Frithigern and I fought beside each other against those who would not recognize the right and power of the vampire, and though he has gotten older and gained much power since then he must have a poor memory indeed to think he can stand against one of The First. Well, a setback it may be, but i will savour his destruction.

Luckily, my Cabalists left before the siege and are now on their way to setting up a functioning circle. Eventually they will aquire for me the blood I need to begin the rites of power and summoning, and enable me to truly attain the glory I deserve, and my power shall be as great as the one who came before and now is gone. This is how I want it, and this is how it shall come to pass, for I am Lillith, of the First.

[magnate]

Well it looks like it's between four or five regular yarnspinners - welcome back Alneyan. Two points this turn to each of Abysia, Arco, Ermor, Machaka and Man. Totals after turn 5 are as follows:

Abysia 9
Arco 10
Atlantis 2
Caelum 4
Ermor 10
Machaka 10
Man 6
Mictlan 5
R'lyeh 4
Vanheim 4

Points for turn 6 yarns on Wednesday.

Regards,

CC

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 6 ----

Star gazers. I confess I was, well, pleased that one of their inscrutable ilk cared enough to avenge the honor of a hired sword, even if it was only some fool girl who had barely gotten her mystical robes and just wanted to impress her siblings with her courage. When I heard that she had led the troops to victory I was even a little impressed. But all it took was a word with my hoplites to realize that there was another reason why she wanted to come, and it didn't concern me in the slightest.

She was after gems. This is, my hoplites inform me, the reason we were sent to this dreadful little province in the first place: there has long been a legend in our village that this province is the site of some mystical wonder, which, I have learned, really means that it has good gem deposits. And I would be surprised -- nay, shocked -- to learn that the practitioners of the local religious and philosophic arts are really in it for the money if I had not passed nearly a dozen years with their sort. (Apologies, Thymbre, I do not mean you.) I think I prefer my religion the way it is: far, far away. The term "godforsaken lands" has altogether too undeserved an ill reputation...

I had been in town for a few days when Amshula came down out of the mountains, wandering into the village as if she had had every right to abandon my troops in a town that had been liberated mere hours earlier. We exchanged words.

"Out for a bit of a stroll?" I said in greeting.

"There was hardly anything for me to do when I got here," she retorted. "The rabble were unworthy of my attentions. Certainly nothing to fall off my horse about."

Unfortunately she has Balachandra's way with words. I had heard that she tried to cast a few ineffectual sparks toward the enemy, with roughly zero impact on the battle, but I wasn't about to argue over who had contributed more to the campaign. "Perhaps you didn't stop to consider that the villagers were as likely to slit my hoplites' throats in the night as provide them with food and shelter."

"As it turns out, Pandokos, they have been given the finest fruits of the harvest, and I hear they do not want for young maidens," she responded, unperturbed. "And besides, would you have rather that I had my throat slit too?"

"Of course you had more important concerns than the safety of the men who fight your wars," I said. "At least you shall get some shiny stones for your trouble."

At this she frowned, and turned away. Aha, I thought. She didn't find anything. The thought cheered me.

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