Dom III Gone Gold (Domiiigogo) - (Started)

[PashaDawg]

Turn 10 is out.

Deadline is Saturday night at 9 Boston time.

Pasha

[PashaDawg]

Hi:

Now that we have reached turn 10, do players want to keep the current daily schedule, or should we switch to a 3 turns per week schedule?

Also, I will be out of town starting mid-Sunday until Tuesday. So, we'll need to take a little break.

Pasha

[djo]

Daily until you leave, then 3/wk after?

[PashaDawg]

Ok with me!

[KissBlade]

daily is good for me. =) My turn really consists of looking to see if my scales returned and then ending turn when I don't see it has XD.

[PashaDawg]

Turn 11 is out

Deadline is TUESDAY NIGHT at 9pm because I will be away. But, I don't leave until Sunday around 1 in the afternoon. So, if players get their turns in... I will host before I leave.

Pasha

[BigJMoney]

Month 4 – The Year Of THE HAG

Erkeborn, the commander of the Ulmish armies and Prophet of Yohlla swiftly kicked the side of one of the fallen. This one didn’t look like there were any wounds on him, but when the body rolled over, he noticed from the loll of the head that the neck was snapped clean. Sometimes the angle the maul hits the head causes the neck to break without leaving any bruising. A good kill. He knew that his armies of men armed with mauls, hammers and axes must seem strange to some of these other people. After all, they had rites and rituals that revolved around cutting and spilling blood. It was barbaric. To the Ulmish mind, it was better to crush your opponent beneath hammer and foot. It was cleaner, and there was a sense of power and dominion associated with it. Gynter’s men had performed admirably, but this was an easy enough battle that Ulm probably could have won it on their own. Gynter was given the task of roaming the land and quelling any remaining dissenters. He took to it with a sly grin, probably knowing he would keep any valuables he found for himself. Erkeborn had other priorities. He would dedicate this land to Yohlla, overseeing the construction of a temple here to help educate the local mountain people. In many ways, these people weren’t unlike his own, and they had already begun to recognize Yohlla’s worthiness already. He had seen it in the eyes of their quaking soldiers as they fought.

One day, a scout returned to him bearing a body. The body was Bune’s. Erkeborn was angry. “Well? If you return, you must have important news for me, right?” This scout had never known Erkeborn before his new reputation as Prophet, and was uneasy speaking to him.

“Ss – sir… we found him dead from his injuries… we retrieved the body first. Look, here is the report scroll!” Erkeborn was grateful for the skill of his spies. Their technique was to record what they had found on report scrolls that in case they should perish and be found, then the scrolls could be retrieved. The news on the scroll was grave. To the southeast of Robber Home was a land known as Machaka. In this land, the people worshipped a god, but the name was unknown to him. His report found that there were giant creatures that were kept on enormous metal shackles. To feed them, a horse was brought near the creature. At first, the creature remained motionless, then with surprising quickness it would jump on the horse, biting it once before retreating. The horse would fall down screaming, then die after several moments of agony. The creatures fed on these corpses. The report also mentioned something about them spouting flames when angered. The scout seemed to think the land was teeming with people, but he was not able to write again before the report ended. “We think he was attacked by hostile natives, but managed to hide himself before he lost his blood. I didn’t dare… enter the land without updating you, sir.” The commander looked his scout directly in the eye to tell him his next assignment. There was no use going easy about the fact that he’d be replacing Bune in that region.

Inside the dark walled throne room of the Great Keep, an old man named Ruprecht was standing before the thrones of the lords of Ulm. The soft voices of the old men echoed resoundingly throughout the great stone chamber.

“But magic is not permitted in this land, Ruprecht. It is a distraction. The people must never fail to work hard, and magic makes things too easy on them. You know the law.” The lord who sat in the middle was speaking to Ruprecht, his speech confident with finality.

Ruprecht replied, “You have been assessing taxes too long, great lord of Ulm. It is too bad you have forgotten the rights of your subjects in that time. I do not wish to practice magic, I wish to gain access to the ancient laboratory for the purpose of research.”

“And what would you use the magical research for, other than for casting spells, Ruprecht? Go back to your home in the mountain, you know we cannot allow you in there.” said another one of the lords; he to the right of the last one.

Ruprecht replied again, but with anger this time, “Look in your great book of laws, old, useless men, and see that a master smith is never to be denied entry into the library or the Great Forge for any reason! You will see that if you deny a smith his duty, your honor is forfeit, and your inheritance as well!”

In unison, the men on the thrones rose and began to shout and yell curses at the man standing on the floor below them. They never got the chance to ask the guards to see him out, because he quickly left.

[KissBlade]

PashaDawg said:
Ok with me!

I'd prefer weekly as things have not quite heated up yet. The majority of my turns are done in about 10 -15 minutes tops. When things get around 25 or wartime, I wouldn't mind slowly down for others. =)

[PashaDawg]

Deadline is Sunday at 9pm GMT -5 (Boston Time).

Pasha

[BigJMoney]

Month 9 – The Year Of THE HAG

If you were to have visited Linshire one month ago, you would have had no idea that this was the same land. What was once a dry desert basin had become a verdant hillside country. Staying for a while had been a good idea. Despite the disapproval of his goddess, he knew that she was the reason their progress had been so rapid. He had never seen men work so hard to search for a well, and they were rewarded for their hard work. Atop the green land, however, was the real reason they were still here. Smoothly cut granite stones formed a low wall that spanned the entire slope. This was the foundation of his peoples’ second walled city. Things had gone underway and were now in full swing. Balin had performed phenomenally up to this point, and Erkeborn was confident that he would finish it properly.

To the east, a lonely mountain peninsula stared down upon the foundations at night. Ulm’s commander looked back into the mountain and wondered who lived there. No spies had made it that far east, since they were busy feeding him information from the dangerous lands in the south. He wondered if the people in that mountain had heard of his god yet. He believed they probably did, for, who could not know of the greatness of Yohlla? In his eyes, she was everyone’s mother. Erkeborn heard shouting. It was coming from the entrance to the camp. He made his way in that direction when three riders broke through the darkness, heading toward him. Two of them he recognized as his men, but the third was a dark skinned man he had never seen before. He wore strange clothes marked with bold and bright colors.

“Commander! We can barely understand this man’s tongue, but he carries a piece of parchment and is demanding that you read it. I have opened it to make sure it is safe, but I did not lay my eyes on the message. We have taken his weapons, and we are ready to do with him whatever you ask.”

Their commander replied, “Good. Hand me his message. Maybe it will explain where he is from or who he is.” Erkeborn read the parchment and then looked at the strange man. He paused in thought for a while and then ordered, “Elon, go and take a message from me to my spies. I am altering their assignments. Do not delay. Let this man leave our camp. He should return to his people, immediately. Do not give him any trouble.” He looked down at the message again, and wondered at the true meaning of the words there:

Dear Men of Ulm,

We are not a thoroughfare. Please reroute your spies, or we will continue to kill them.

Sincerely,
Your friends in the lands of Machaka

[Don't worry about me posting diplomatic relations in this 'AAR', because I won't. That would ruin the game. I will try figure out some way to represent it in the story appropriately.]