PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2 (Running)

[The Panther]

I posted Yarn 48 on the Yarn site. It is not being repeated here because of the embedded images.

[The Panther]

Ralph, Prophet of the fine nation of Man, has posted a new proclimation entitled:
"The Inquisition Practices Death Magic"

[Sedna]

Gawain

"Well, this is the forest of Idun."

"Indeed, sire."

"Seems like a strong province defense."

"Indeed, sire."

"How, exactly, does one, ah... kill one of these lizard things."

"I believe skewering it with a lance is traditional."

"Very good." Gawain looked out over the cohort of knights. There would be death before this was all over. Death, and lizard blood, which stains frightfully, or so Gawain had heard.

Muszinger

Wic,

I will not be able to coordinate the war plans very well from out here in the field, and I'm afraid I don't trust Polgrave as much as I once did. Thus, you must take charge of the unfolding situation. I must confess I do not understand Afti-el, or why the LORD's return did not come as the scribes had predicted, but we must trust in Him and in Her too.

The war plans are sound. Gawain and I will seize the fort at Pythium. Try to lure Manish forces into our dominion where we can defeat them more easily. I hope we will kill some lizards here in the south, but we must be prepared to absorb great loss of territory in the north. The inquisition must be out in force to prevent the peasants from losing faith. We will hold the lizards at Marignon and Camelot. Hopefully, our attacks on Man will give Pangaea a chance to regroup and distract Man so that we will be able to turn our attention on the scaly ones and beat them back.

By Fire and Faith and the Sword,

Muszinger

Esclave

I find it hard to concentrate on my work. We hear that Man has employed large number of magical creatures in their invasion. There is a weapon, the Elf-bane, that could come in handy against these unnatural things, but ever since the Archbishop of Amiridon disappeared, I am the only one in the kingdom with the skills to forge these things for the paladins who clamor for them. And I am distracted.

All my life I knew the world was coming to an end, and suddenly it stretched out before me, all my mistake and all my fear. And just as suddenly, my source seems to restricted. Surely our enemies will pour in from every side, and we will all be killed. I have received hints that the Archbishop of Elkland is holding onto my son while Afti-el flies around killing things. But I cannot journey to Camelot. The Plains of Eternal Peril will be the primary battleground in this war.

Is it any wonder that I cannot properly sharpen a blade?

Gawain

The second before his lance hit home, Gawain saw giant feathery wings rising from the back of a huge snake. Then, with an awesome force, his lance splintered as it ground a strange undead creature with a hundred vines into dust. He was off his horse, surrounded by monsters. Lizards the size of men who walked upright, and huge 10-foot snakes who struck with blinding speed. But the solid wall of charging knights prevailed quickly, and Gawain himself escaped without a scratch. The animals were running, and Gawain let out a mighty roar, chasing after one in fancy black robes and hacking it down in a burst of cold flame.

Muszinger

My lord,

Great news from the north. Sir Balide has killed one of the "Queens" of the Air. Also, the mercenary Tempestus has seized the rich farmlands of Solian in the heart of Man. The fort at Iron Range is under siege, by the lizards, but can hold out for many months. The dragon and his armies march into the north. As planned, we put up no resistance.

Wic

Foen

Tvinto, a druid I knew back in the sunlit days, has died in the foolhardy invasion of T'ien Ch'i. They say that the heathens have great demons of fire and water and that our little band never stood a chance. Closer to home, the forces of Ulm, luckily few in number, surround the dead city on every side, but have not yet tried to put us under siege. God knows we are too weak to repel such an attempt. What few living men remain in this desolate land have long since gone mad, and the only defenders left are a few dying vine men and the strange fiery snakes which crawl out of the Archbishop Marignon's mouth.

Meanwhile, fell tidings come from the utter west. On a dark field, and surrounded by a horde of the undead at her command, Afti-el fell upon a host of heavenly angels and slaughtered them with her fell blade. The blood of these innocent creatures spilt upon the ground and cried to the heavens -- blasphemy! blasphemy!

Is there war in heaven? Has the LORD forsaken us?

Esclave

I believe Wic truly enjoys this war and being in charge of it. He seems healthier and more full by the day, and by night, a steady stream of new maidens comes to his chamber. But I suppose sexual immorality is the least or our worries now. The inquisition patrols everywhere, and saying a word against the war is punishable by a swift death.

Polgrave has fallen utterly. The broken tower to the south glows with evil death magic, and Wic says that Polgrave, who tried to learn too much of the dark side, now summons foul creatures from the crypt. If the propagandists from Man are to be believed, a Wraith Lord, most feared of all undead warriors, lurks the plains just north of here, preying on invaders and townsfolk alike. Wic has informed Muszinger, and I can only hope he will leave the foolish siege of Pythium to return here and root out this infection. Muszinger is a fool, but just because he refuses to see the evil in Afti-el, I cannot believe he will refuse to see the devastating change in his old friend.

Muszinger

Wic,

I was pleased to have your letter. I am sorry your home in Wic Forest was burnt down. I approve your plan to reclaim it, but do be careful. The enemy may be reading this communication, so I shall say no more.

The news from Umidor is excellent. Two more battles won by Sir Balide and the trolls! We'll build a wall out of the heathens' dead bodies. Also, I want the friar who single-handedly turned back that pack of wolves made a saint. Philippe, I believe you said his name was. See to it.

What news from Polgrave? I trust he still holds the tower and temple in good faith?

Ah, I sense our enemies' alliance may be cracking. No attack from Vanheim yet, and surely Man will grow swiftly tired of taking the brunt of the casualties while Lizard armies make unopposed gains. Let's see how they react to our next move...

By Fire and Faith and the Sword,

Muszinger

[puffyn]

Hi everyone,

Sorry I've been holding the game up, I've been out of town, and keeping up with the mayhem on Council of Wyrms sort of ate up all my dominions time. I am back now and ought to get my turn in soon, so hopefully we can progress a little further toward the end of the world (which I hear is located somewhere near Marignon).

Here's my turn 48 yarn; 51 will follow soon I hope.

-puffyn

----------

The attack, when it came, was both more and less than expected. For a sizable minority of lizards, who had not expected Marignon to attack at all, merely bluster, it was far worse than they had hoped, believing to the last that there was still some goodness and decency left in their friends and allies... well, allies, at least, to the north/south.

To others, particularly those who rallied around a certain aged shaman and his newly relevant plans on "How to defeat a trecherous alliance between Pithium and Marynown" (edited hastily by his clever young assistant Hema), the initial attack was, well, disappointing.

"You call this a war? Bah! Back in my day, when someone invaded your kingdom, they cared enough to make sure you knew it! Hatchlings these days..." rambled Lugal one day in council.

"Er, yes, great-grandfather, it's true that Marignon's first volley has not been as bad as we feared," jumped in Hema. She was a newly-appointed junior member of the council (advisory capacity only), and had quickly realized that she had been selected less for her academic brilliance, than for her (oh so occasional) ability to bring Lugal in line, and sometimes get him to shut up for a bit.

This was not one of those times.

"And another thing!" railed Lugal. These youngsters were too cocky, thought fighting a war with Pythium and not dying meant hey knew the first thing about war. He kept catching them in flagrant disrespect of his esteemed status as eldest of the clan, and he was not going to stand for that, no sir, not when the defense of C'tis rested on his bony shoulders.

"Their spies..." he paused for dramatic effect, "... are everywhere. Poised in the shadows in their deep purple robes, ready to stab you through with their coral knives, or blast your brains into smithereens, unless you have..."

"Brown robes," interrupted Hema.

There was an awkward silence.

"Marignon is known to send spies and assassins into neighboring lands, even in peace time, but they don't, ah, wear purple robes, so, you know, you can't, er, recognize them that way," she finished lamely. It had seemed like an important point to make, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out why. She couldn't imagine who would be foolish enough to select a gaudy color like purple for their assassins to wear, though.

"And we're doing the same thing," said Asalluhe, the new head of the guild of empoisonners, to scattered applause. He was young and popular and had quite a following. "Only our assassins blend into whatever scenery they're in, and then ," he said, and pantomimed a dagger thrust to the heart, complete with gasping sounds as the poison took effect. There was more scattered applause, and some cheering. Only last week word had reached the capitol of successful infiltration of one of Marignon's dens of scholars.

"And some of the really smart assassins," continued Asalluhe, insinuating that he of course belonged to this school of thought, "use poisoned bows to stay safely away from their targets. It's practically no risk at all," he finished, smiling.

Hema wondered idly how long it would take him to end up on her workbench, next to Lipit and all the others, and pondered whether she was a bad lizard for not being upset in the slightest at the thought.

"... constant vigilance!" said Lugal, seizing the gap in the conversation with a single-minded determination to finish his harangue that Hema couldn't help admiring.

"Mark my words, there will be attacks from within soon, oh yes, very soon," he went on. "Birds and beasts and even our own human populations, souls warped so they turn on us, ought've wiped em all out, really..."

"We've heard your opinions on the human question before, Lugal," said Kemosh, sighing. He knew he had to let the old lizard finish or there'd be hell to pay, but he was not about to let him rehash his stupid internment camp idea again.

"Yes, well, ahem, constant vigilance," said Lugal. Hema could almost hear him rummaging through his mental notes, trying to find the missing page. "And we should watch the seas – that's where they'll come for us in the end, rising up to engulf us all in madness and despair..."

There was silence, as the assembled councilors waited for Lugal to continue, or wondered why Marignon would go through their lone province adjacent to the sea when they could invade hundreds of kilometers of border directly, or (most likely) had fallen asleep. But after a few moments, the elder lizard shuffled out of the center of the High Rock and sat next to Hema, where he stared off into space, remembering something dark and damp and long ago...

Finally, Hema stood up to fill the silence. "What he means, of course, is that we must be prepared to expect the unexpected." She glanced nervously at Lugal, perhaps testing to see if he was really done talking so they might move on, but his eyes were far way in the caves of time.

Kemosh seized his chance. "Which is precisely what we are doing, my dear girl, of course," he said. "We have assembled a counter attack to the force of knights ravaging our northlands, which will be led by our, ah, esteemed colleague Lugal's own 'Big Snake'," he said hurriedly, spitting out the last words with some distaste. He eyed the elder lizard, worried he would jump in again, but Lugal was now humming under his breath and rocking back and forth a little, and paying the younger lizards no attention at all. Kemosh sighed with relief.

"Yes, I am pleased to announce that we have contacted one of the great and holy feathered serpents themselves, who is here at the High Rock today to say a few words about his plans for the defense of our people. If I may introduce Eshmun..."

There was a murmur in the crowd as the snake slithered up the stairs. "A Coatl!" "In this day? I thought they were all extinct." And he turned to the assembled lizards and began to speak, in a slightly halting, lisping accent, about his plans for salvation.

Hema got a funny feeling listening to him talk. It was like someone was trying to pull her tail, and she didn't like it at all. Sure, she had helped plan the clever communion that would empower the snake to strike Marignon hard. It was a very clever plan that Lugal had come up with and she wondered where he had ever picked it up.

But clever wasn't necessarily a match for a bunch of dumb knights in shiny armor with long pointy sticks. If someone would only ban the lance, then that might even things up a bit, she thought with a smile. But nobody else had a better idea, and the council was sure to vote to authorize Eshmun's forces to leave immediately. The only thing Hema could think of was to make sure someone responsible and experienced went with the snake and his growing coterie of young shamans, who had been trained specially by Lugal for this task, a thought that sometimes frankly terrified Hema.

Perhaps the great Arruli would be able to stop things from spiraling out of control, she thought. She would have to ask.




Laph was in her study when the chameleogram arrived. Shem and Tari were asleep, mercifully, curled up peacefully in their nest, but little Fela, the smallest and most insatiably curious of the hatching, was crawling all over Laph's books and scrolls. Laph was smiling to herself and thinking how much the little one reminded her of Ruli, and at first she didn't notice the sound of the door quietly opening.

And suddenly, there was a chameleon in the room, simulating a credible impression of a military uniform, handing her a letter, which could only be from the front, and by the way the lizard crisply deposited it in her hand, bowed slightly, and disappeared, it could only say one thing.

Laph choked back a sob, and reflexively picked up a surprised Fela, who had been clamoring for attention all morning and was startled to find herself the recipient of a sudden and prolonged hug.


A few hours later, when Laph had composed herself, she went the the part of the castle where the note said the box had been taken. There were many boxes there, too many, but at the moment she only cared about one. She stopped by the chameleogram headquarters herself, to drop off some urgent letters to the most skilled sauromancers in the land.

Laph wasn't about to let her egg brother be brought back as a revenant, not if she could help it. She had some words to say to him, and she expected him to be able to defend himself and tell her what exactly he could possibly have been thinking, getting his fool self killed.

[puffyn]

---C'tis, turn 51 ---

"The last story is called Aetonyx gets burnt at the stake."

Laph paused for dramatic effect, but it was hardly necessary. All the hatchlings, even Shem and Tari, who had heard her practicing the story, stared at her wide-eyed, and a few of the littlest ones began to cry, until Mother Zisura came and comforted them. Only Fela looked unconcerned, but that may have had more to do with her paying rather more attention to the bizarre and unnatural way light seemed to fall on the floor next to her mother. Such interesting shadows...

"Don't you have better things to do than make the hatchlings cry?"

"Quiet, Ruli," said Laph. She cleared her throat.

"Now, this story happened long ago, in the days just after Ermor had finally fallen away from life and light, and there was much hatred in the newly formed theocracy to our south. The Marignonese blamed all lizards for the stupidity of a few thoughtless sauromancers, who had foolishly traded away the secrets of their great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers, and then gone and gotten themselves killed..."

"Now that sounded almost bitter, egg-sister. It hurts me, right here," and he pointed to the ethereal hole in his side that was credibly lance-shaped. "And here..." and he held up his trampled tail. "And..."

"Shush!" said Laph loudly, which caused everyone to stare. Corporeal undead were one thing, but most lizards couldn't see ghosts, especially not these hatchlings, children of mostly average city-lizards, destined to become merchants or city guards, to whom the supernatural was better left to their rare and gifted cousins.

"You know how you can get me to be quiet," said Ruli, but Laph had finally noticed the Fela was staring right at them. It shouldn't have surprised her, of course, her littlest hatchling had always seemed the sort, just like her (lamentably-deceased) uncle. But she felt a knot in her stomach anyhow, which puzzled her. Shouldn't she feel happy that Fela could See?

Laph herself had been a little surprised that she could see Ruli in this form, because she had never seen a single ghost before now. I guess haunting someone's every step would be no fun at all if they couldn't perceive you were there, she sighed. Brothers.

"Now Aetonyx had cause to journey to Marignon," she continued at last. "He went during the month of Carrofactum, because he hoped that the spirit of peace and goodwill of the holy month would allow him to conduct his business in safety.

"But alas, Aetonyx was betrayed. He was staying, as he had before, in the house of a prominent trader from Vanheim, named Vanlade. They had shared several interesting and amusing stories in years gone by, which I will not share with you today, but this was to be their last story together, save one. For one evening, not long after Aetonyx had arrived, there was a knock on the door.

"Vanlade and Aetonyx had discussed escape plans before, in case of just such an eventuality, and worked out a system of signals by which Vanlade would tell him it was time to flee, for the Inquisition was not unexpected. But Aetonyx was caught quite unawares when, with nary a sign from Vanlade, his bedroom door was roughly pushed aside and black-robed inquisitors filled the room, seizing him and binding him so tightly he had no time to think of escape.

"'But why?' he asked his former friend, as the monks began chanting from the Scroll of Remanding the Heretic into Custody, For Eventual Painful Burning Thereof, stanzas 15-23.

"'I am sorry,' said Vanlade, not looking him in the eye. 'My life here is too comfortable, too profitable to Vanheim. I cannot risk what I have worked for to help you, so the fathers and I have come to... an arrangement.' And he turned away as the friars argued over the proper number of Cleansing Whips to be used, and whether there should be shackles or manacles or both.

"On the day of Aetonyx's burning, he was led through streets packed with huge, jeering crowds, for word had spread that here was the leader of the perfidious death-lizards, who had tutored Ami herself in the arts of darkness, although in truth Aetonyx had never had much skill for sauromancy. But all lizards looked alike in Marignon, and they would all burn just as satisfactorily.

"Because of his reputation for craftiness, Aetonyx had been kept bound and guarded at all times by men made impervious to his wily tongue owing to the sensible provision of having had their ears cut off, and he was never given a single opportunity to escape. So after walking through a barrage of hurled fruit and insults and the occasional duck, Aetonyx was tied firmly to a wooden stake in the middle of an enormous pile of wood.

"Will he escape? Gosh, Laph, I'm worried, what will happen? Laph ignored him. Death had made Ruli so snarky.

"The Archbishops of Amirdon and Elkland, whose faction was in power then, read long and rambling homilies on the Evils of Being Lizardish, until finally Aetonyx yelled out that, if they would just set him on fire already, that was okay with him. So they did. The fire raged all night and into the next morning, and the pillar of smoke could be seen as far away as C'tis."

There was stunned silence when it became clear that Laph had finished speaking, and several hatchlings had tears in their eyes.

"That was harsh. I thought all your stories had to have happy endings," said Ruli, snickering a little.

"Clearly you weren't paying as close attention to me as you should have been," said Laph softly.

"Well, it's awfully hard to, seeing as how my own egg-sister doesn't care enough to do me a tiny little favor..."

Laph waved him quiet with her hand. She scanned the dozen or so hatchlings, wide-eyed and terrified, though Fela, she noted, was glaring at her with a very skeptical expression on her face. Good.

"I don't believe that's what really happened," said Fela.

"No?" said her mother, then laughed. "I suppose not. When the people of Marignon finally put the fire out and dragged Aetonyx's body out of the rubble, no one knew enough lizard physiology to determine if he was dead or not, and since his skin was cracked and charred and he didn't move they assumed he was, and threw him onto the trash heap at the edge of town. By and by, Aetonyx was able to pull himself up and through a series of improbable events made his way back to... Yes, Shem?"

"But... but... the fire..."

Laph smiled. She should have had children long ago, they were wonderful for feeding her lines. "Oh, yes, the fire, of course. Well, Aetonyx had always trusted Vanlade to come to his aid, but at the same time he was not so stupid as to fail to take precautions on his own, so that he would still have a few tricks to play even if his friend deserted him. So every time there was a knock at the door, Aetonyx had made sure that he had secured upon his body a burning pearl, which he had gotten from the Cave of a Thousand Grieving Phoenixes which I told you about last week. That way, he would be mostly protected from fire, and only his skin would get burnt. And every hatchling knows how easy it is to change your skin..."

"Oh, burning pearl, very nice, why didn't I think of that?" said Ruli, rolling his eye-sockets. "Didn't seem to do me any good..."

"That's because they were troglodytes, you fool, fire resistance was totally pointless," she snapped. The yarn was over, and the little lizards looked satisfied, which was good, although Tari appeared to have fallen asleep, and where had Fela gotten to?

"C'mon, Laph, next time won't be so bad, and besides, I'll still be immortal, so what could possibly go wrong?"

"No, Ruli, for the last time, you were a terrible wraith lord," said Laph firmly, staring him down. "And you're making a pretty lousy ghost, too," she said, and nodded toward Fela, who was experimenting with passing her tail through her ethereal uncle. It went all cool and shimmery...

"Uncle Ruli, I know you're there, tell Mom she told the story wrong," said Fela.

"And how was that?" said Ruli, carefully enunciating, so his voice sounded as crisp and clear as it possibly could while still resembling leaves floating in the autumn wind.

"Because she was just making things up 'cause of the war and the meanies in Vanheim who won't help us, and that never really happened," said Fela indignantly. "And, and, she shouldn't lie."

"Sage words, from a winter-egg," said Ruli, winking. "Pity Mom doesn't like telling the truth and, oh, I don't know, keeping promises she made."

Laph sighed. "Fela, I promise you that every word I said was true," she said.

"But did they really happen?" said Fela doggedly. The ethereal presence seemed to convulse with what might have been laughter.

"Go play with the others and we'll talk this over later," sighed Laph. "And Ruli, I promise, I'll find you a better form soon." Just as soon as she could come up with something... safe.

[Sedna]

Hey kids,

I've brought the maps for yarnspinners up to date: turns 42 - 51. Hopefully this will help any loyal readers follow the epic the battles now raging (slowly) across our fair land.

Start looking at the new maps here

Sedna

[djo]

I've written about half of my turn 54, and I need more inspiration! How about another turn?

We're close, so close now...