MP Game - Yarnspinners

[puffyn]

Hi Griffin,

Welcome to the game. Feel free to post the occasional yarn if you get into the game - I know there's only a few of us posting most turns these days, but I like reading all of the reports I can get. (And not just for the vital insights into everyone else's strategies... )

-Puffyn

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 31 ----

We turn north again, working on fragmentary reports from scouts throughout Mictlan's empire. My plan is to avoid the large enemy army encamped just south of their capitol, skirt around, and hit their city from the west. The going will be slow, since it will be necessary to pacify the locals, clear out blood-hunters, and set up some sort of local defense at each town we come to. If all goes according to plan, we should be outside their bloody walls in two, maybe three months.

Looking back over my previous entries, I see that I have neglected to mention the strange beings that now travel with us. Balachandra calls them vinoghers. I normally call them "stupid" or "mindless twit", since they have no conception of personal space or self preservation, and are happy to aimless wander into a campfire, scatter ash and plant bits into one's butter, and then plod off, completely oblivious to the flames now dancing around their legs. We've lost three of them and nearly a pound of butter that way, but more seem to arrive continually.

But the vinoghers are quite sturdy in battle. Not as effective offensively as my hoplite, they do have a remarkable ability to keep wandering forward, randomly crushing things, despite missing an arm or two. In the most recent skirmish, the slave armies of Mictlan turned and fled at their mere approach. I guess the strange southern sorceresses (Ulde, or one of her triplets) are to thank or blame for these brutes. I don't need them to win battles, but they keep my real men healthy and I am grateful for that. I shall have to send the triplets a nice fruit basket from the Mictlan capitol when it falls.
---

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 32 ----

At times I feel a little redundant. We approached a large Mictlan army on the plains outside Oeversee. As usual, I had my slow troops in a protective square around the mystics, priests, wounded, and other useless bums. On the left flank, the now-elite hypastist phalanx; on the right, a barely distinguishable clump of vines and moss that typically breaks up into something like ten vinoghers.

The blood-herders have some men who have mastered the art of flight, and these sometimes cause problems for the mystics, who have never held an honest spear in their life. In this case, one lone fanatic soared majestically into the air, raised his spear, gave a horrible cry, and ... promptly skewered himself upon the spears of the phalanx.

The mystics were wasting their time on foolish chants, so I left Andromache to watch out for them, and marched forward with the phalanx. The slave army had nearly reached us, and though we were heavily outnumbered, I could see the fear in their eyes, for we have gained quite a fearsome reputation in these parts. There was a sound like a thousands swords being drawn, and a whistling that you felt, rather than heard. Instinctively, we all ducked behind shields, pulled our helmets down low, but the whirling blades came from behind us, flew safely over our heads, and scythed the slave army apart.

The slaves of Mictlan rarely wear any armor or shields, and are generally slow also. The blades tore limbs clean off, chunked a few of them cleanly, and generally mangled a number more. Slipping on the blood and entrails, still more afraid of their masters behind them than of the death in front, the few remaining slaves got to their feet, and struggled forward. At that moment, a lightening bolt appeared out of the sky, and with a great clap of thunder, charred the earth directly in front of the slaves. On the way down, the lightening must have caught the trees branches on fire, for the next second, a veritable shower of fire fell amongst the poor conscripts, burning many, and lighting several of them on fire.

The survivors fled as soon as we reached them and presented our spear points, and impenetrable wall of gleaming shields. The vinoghers tore a few apart as they ran, dropping their spears to escape more quickly. The few non-slave warriors melted easily under our advance, and the battlefield was ours.

That night, I spoke with Tushar (Balachandra's second cousin, once removed). He confirmed my suspicion that there was nothing supernatural going on at the battle: the mystics had simply found a way to propel a large number of sharpened blades through the air. He refused to tell me the mechanism though: "Magic," he replied with a wink. Of course he also claimed credit for the lightning strike, but it was clear he was just trying to see how gullible I am.

---

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 33 ----

Tushar's invention (the troops nervously refer to it as The Blade Wind. As in, "Keep your head low in battle or the blade wind will send your head back home to Attica without your body", or, "If you touch my butter ration again I'll blade wind you back to the stone age") remains devastatingly effective against the forces of Mictlan. With its help, we cut a bloody swath through the patrolling army and are now camped outside the gates of Mictlan itself, gathering the materials for a siege. I do not know how long we will have to remain here. The walls around this city are strong ones, and there are many defenders inside.

I have heard some odd reports from back home. Upper Skelde, just north of Oast Hills, has always been home to a proud and warlike people. Now, perhaps, they have been defeated in battle by forces under the control of the village elders. Or perhaps not — I have heard both. It almost seems as if a rabble of locals was soundly defeated there, and yet the province spontaneously decided to join their fate to ours anyway. And I keep hearing a name I have not heard in a long time... Limmy. It seems that the faith of some people never dies.

The sorceress triplets (I think Vlde, actually, but I cannot keep them straight) have sent a messenger complaining that a large slaver force is marching south directly for them. The scum have already taken the sacred grove of the old woman, and the sorceresses fear that the fort in the sinking land will soon be under siege. I'll write them a witty response telling them to get their plant buddies to protect them. Bloody sorceresses— can't even handle a little counter-attack. The troops believe that they are not altogether dedicated to our cause, so I'm certainly not about to go rushing off to save them. I'm sure that once Mictlan's capitol falls, the god-empress (as she imagines herself) of this people, also known as Sethra, Lady of Fever, will surrender completely.

Honestly though, I hope the so-called Harvester comes in person to try and break the siege. I would love to end her reign of terror on my spear-point.

---

[Sedna]

Turn 34, R'lyeh

Now THAT was a meal!

The kelp walls rolled back at Last under our relentless attack and we stormed the heart of Atlantis, the deepest place of this world, where starlight never reaches to burn their fish-eyes.

My shambler thrall and assorted otherworldly beings were at the maw first, while my shark knights and rabble of tritons prepared for their vertical attack. Behind them all, my Illithids waited in steely grey silent rows, clutching their tridents, and focusing their minds on the void.

But Atlantis was not going to wait patiently for our attack. Diving down from the starless darkness above our heads came a cluster of tritons, and a handful of horrendously coiled sea serpents. The serpents dove upon the shamblers, breaking their necks between powerful jaws. The dumb brutes just stood there, trying helplessly to trample their foe. Sheer numbers carried the day. Even the tritons who landed amongst our weaker Illithids had their minds torn out by screams, and the serpents were surrounded on all sides my meteorite guards and formless things and vile spawn. And their bodies returned to the sea.

Enemy mages drew down the water above our heads so that it struck our ranks, sending troops flying. Some cowards now fled under the storm, but my elite shark knights had swum, unhindered to the side of Abysos, the great kracken, pretend ruler of the seas. Their might teeth tore chunks from him, and the smell of blood now coursed through the veins of the sea.

My own preparations complete, I surged forward, cutting a path through the gate not far behind the surviving thrall. There, in the narrow space, their coral guard engaged us, and many of my slaves poisoned trying to rend the armor apart, but I was protected by powerful magic, and the screams of the Illithids behind us froze ever more Atlantians, and they fled into the darkness prepared for them.

Now Abysos issued forth, and his tentacles were everywhere, flinging my slaves into the walls of his fort, and into the deep chasms which littered the plain. His ink coiled around him, and caused every living thing near him to die. But I, protected, reached his side. With several tentacles paralyzed, and several more busy ripping a thrall into tiny pieces, I easily reached his side, and sank my own tentacle deep in his flesh.

For long we stood in the deep, just the two of us, as our forces skirmished on the side. Ever he strove to dislodge me, and ever I sucked out his life force. At Last he grew weary, and I grew full. I discarded the dried up remains, and my star-children finished the job.

For dessert, I ate three Initiates of the Deep and one Deep Seer. In the bloodied, turmoiled waters after the battle we found four magic clams, and one enormous cauldron of fish soup - leftovers.

Now I am sure there is an empire to run, but I am full, and must nap.

[Sedna]

R'lyeh, Turn 35

One: Sssh, don't wake him.

Two: The fat one is asleep in his own food, you really think a little noise will disturb him?

One: I... I don't know. But I do know that Zag'mi was the last one of our little group who decided it would be a good idea to make its thoughts available to the world, and we all know what happened to it.

Two: Shudder I'm still picking bits of it out of my teeth.

One: So keep it quiet. Now, what next? I hear that the Atlantians still have a fortress on the shore of this strait. Will we be ordered to leave behind the tritons, scramble up through the sunlit waves and die, gasping for air, as sharp metal pierces our bodies?

Two: If I know the fat one he'll spend an eon or two sleeping off the octopus before doing anything useful. X has already been organizing all the recovery and repair operations; hopefully, we'll all be following its orders until fatty recovers.

One: Hiss Will you stop calling him that?

Two: Why should I? He's grotesquelly overweight after eating that much tentacled-matter.

One: I know, but even for a mad elder god it's so disrespct... Quiet! What was that?

Two: Your over-active imagination.

One: Pauses Maybe. Now look, X doesn't like the daystar any more than we do. It's organizing expeditions up the rivers to take over the rest of this world's lakes.

Two: Shudder Fresh water fish. It's so brackish and muddy and dull.

One: It's better than dying in a hail of a thousand arrows in some high, forgotten, blighted... meadow. Who's that?

Ten: Greetings

One: Relief Greetings

Ten: I bring a gift. Reveals

Two: They look like ordinary pearls.

Ten: But they're not. S claims they've been imbued with the light of Epsilon Eridani and that by placing them on Cthulu while he dreams he will be carried back to that system.

One: Awe But will it work?

Two: After all, S is a warm-blooded, air-breathing, toothed freak.

Ten: I don't know. As always, it's your call One. But I do know that Cthugul has been successfully summoning again. It's can't be long before the great purple comes into the world.

Two: And I hear that the northern air-breathers who are so loyal to fatso have built him several new temples and have finished consolidating his power up there.

One: Musing Foolish mortals... it doesn't matter what happens here, they all just die eventually. Decision Let's do it, we've only our lives to lose. Two. Do the honors.

Two: Okay-dokey. So I guess I just place them here...

Nothing

One: Hmmm... that's odd. Was Two supposed to vanish like that also?

Ten: Uh, I don't think so.

One: No great loss. Well, Ten, I guess you're the new Six, congratulations on your promotion

Six: Submission It is a pleasure to serve.