MP Game - Yarnspinners

[Alneyan]

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.

[puffyn]

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.

[Zapmeister]

puffyn said:
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".

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.

[Sedna]

R'lyeh doesn't scare me, and enslaved Starspawn make such cute pets

Dem's fightin' words!

[CuriousCat]

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.

[puffyn]

---- 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.

[puffyn]

---- 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.

[puffyn]

---- 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.