MP Game - Yarnspinners

[The Panther]

Just my opinion, but I believe the people who would want to join this and write yarns will not be turned off by a lack of points for whatever nation they take over. I suspect that they are doing it mostly for fun, not points.

I have been writing a fan fic that started over a year ago and is up to about 700,000 words. I am not getting any points or money or anything else for it, yet I continue to write regularly on my story. It is just a fun thing to do with my spare time in the evenings. I think most of the folks still writing in this thread are the exact same way, they are not really doing this for the points or because they want to win the game or anything like that.

In fact, it is obvious the folks like Puffyn are clearly doing this because they enjoy the writing. Just as those lurkers (like me) who have been reading them and enjoying the yarns. I have been concerned recently about the fact that this game might die.

I did read with amusement about the free dwarven hammer and gems from Vanheim to Caelum. Those two races were originally begun by boyfriend and girlfriend and that is the way they always play on those occasions when they both join the same game. They are always allied on day 1, they never attack each other, they give gems, money and artifacts freely between each other, and they will assist one another as needed throughout the course of the game. It is kind of sad that they felt the need to do that in a game that is supposedly for fun only.

Of course, aren't ALL games supposed to be for fun only???

Now, I can either go to work on my day off or write Chapter 276 in my story. What will it be???

Ugh - work! I have some things that I must get done today in the office to prepare for a business trip on Monday morning...

[Alneyan]

Man - Turn 16:

An endless plain appeared in her mind, a land where even colours were long gone. Whirling shapes could be seen, the shades of the dead and the forgotten. The howling wind added its plaintive note to the desolation. The twisted bodies of skeletons surrounded her, sometimes throwing a bony arm around her. And everywhere were the maniac grins of the ghosts, as if they rejoiced of her presence in their midst.

The Otherworld faded away, bringing sights of the abominations, these things coming from beyond, so far away from her land. Swirling tentacles seized her, and all the eyes of these things, far too many of them, were sneering at her. She could almost hear their whispers: “Come wish us, come...”. They were invading her mind, their ram echoing loudly, as her mental defences collapsed.

A Daughter was insistently knocking at the order, shouting something about an urgent message from the North. Velimaine shook the remnants of her nightmare, her head still reeling from that apercu of these unearthly creatures. She could almost understand the desperate course Ilneoa had initiated; almost. Man would need to grow in power to save this land they loved, but could not keep its traditions while being involved in the deification madness. Mortals should not imperil the world thus by their petty conflicts on godhood, not in this moment of great need.

That missive from the Northern reaches was a wonder of curtness: “Fishes threatening the land, and their ilk complaining about their death. Not like the Atlantian Courts.” So they would be the ones considering an attack against the Vale; how fool these foul creatures were. The fabled longbowmen of Man would simply repel their advance, should they dare to walk on the soil. Their power would be no more so far from their lands of emptiness from where they stem.

But all the might of the Summer Land might not be enough against this age of sundering. The Roaming Dead still thrive – or they would had they kept their lives and their souls – far in the South, and darker rumours could be heard in the taverns. Everything from Dragons to Demons and sapient serpents were loosed on the land, or so the commoners thought, and they might have had the truth of it for once. Nonetheless, an alliance of the peoples of the earth would not be unwelcome, if only the bickering of the Pretenders did not interfere.

Velimaine thought she would do well to bring Ilneoa back from her ashes as well. A figurehead would not hurt her efforts, and the Virtue had probably lost her hubris along with her life, and most of her grace. Her mastery of the winds would be of a great assistance; until she taught her knowledge to another Daughter. And if Ilneoa were to remain impossible to restrain, her life would simply be forfeit once more. After all, what has been done can happen once more at will. Velimaine was smirking when she sent her first prayer in months to the Virtue, Last of all her pantheon of deities.

[CuriousCat]

Machaka: Turn 16

While his retinue prepared the ritual space, Cetewayo considered his situation. His realm was not in the position he would prefer. His nation was small and almost surrounded by larger, intimidating powers. The few unaligned chaos lands that remained nearby were home to large, heavily armed and armored forces. While the magic schools in Balakavo were slowly beginning to show some results, without sources of magical power the great spells would stay an academic exercise. Thus, here he was in the wilds. Sometimes if you wanted something done, you had to do it yourself. Together with his retinue, he would search for magic to power the researchers discoveries.

First though, he had time to consider other options. He lacked knowledge of the world. He was trapped here in this small corner with only a small alley through which he might expand without war. Gaining additional knowledge was a priority. True he had sent out a spy, but that was slow, limited information. He could sense other Powers similar to his abroad in the world. Perhaps he could use this connection, however tenuous, to communicate with others who might be in a similar position. After all, he could communicate his will with his priests via their dreams and their connection to him. It was possible that using similar techniques he could contact some other leader. Perhaps this other leader would be willing to exchange information. One think that gave him pause was the recent strange, disquieting disturbance that seemed connected to this new sense. Thinking about it made him remember the cold of the grave. He was unsure what the disturbance indicated. Regardless, he was determined to pursue this possibility. But who to attempt to contact?

Cetewayo then remembered a recent gift he had received. One of the other powers had sent him an air gem. He quickly retrieved the gem in question and studied it. The gem had been sent with little fanfare and no real message from the mysterious R'lyeh. These were beings that one would definitely NOT call men. Rumor had it that they ate the brains of the humans that they captured. They were also rumored to have strange mental powers. The Last fact gave him another pause. It might actually be dangerous to attempt this contact. He had no knowledge of the power this being might command. He could not let fear rule him. He would try it! These were times for taking risks. Indeed, he was not without power himself. Using the resonance of the gem with its previous owner together with his own ability to sense these other semi-divine beings, he would forge a connection, for better or worse.

He settled himself into a deep trance focusing his awareness through the gem in a way both outward and inward toward the other. He searched farther, and then he felt a faint contact. Yes, there was something there. He struggled harder and felt the connection deepen. Suddenly he was overwhelmed by a kaleidescope of strange images. It was overwhelming. Nothing made sense. Dizzying and disorienting. Flashes. Bright. Dark. Angles, structures that could not be. Water. He tried to project his desire to exchange information. He tried to put his wishes into words but he couldn't tell if he was succeeding. He kept trying and there were brief flashes of images that he could almost make sense of. Suddenly he was standing by a table in the midst of a great void. On the table was a blank piece of parchment. Somehow he knew that it was supposed to be a map. He tried to alter it and to his surprise succeeded. Suddenly the map had his nation and something of the surrounding area outlined. As he began celebrating he felt a more concrete presence of something OTHER. He held himself in the connection by a force of will. Everything in him was telling him that he should flee. He had to get a return of information. Yes! He could see it. He focused on the map and saw stretches of the world filled in. At that, he let the connection go. To his horror, the connection did not fade. Instead it continued and he felt himself being drawn deeper. An intense flood of images so fast that he could not decipher them, even consciously register their content. He then forcibly severed the connection.

As he emerged with a shudder from the trance he quickly sketched out the map he had seen. It had been a disturbing experience, but one well worth the risk. He had not sensed animosity directed at him. Though, to be honest, he was unsure about his ability to decipher much that he had sensed, indeed his senses were still reeling from the experience. However, he had gained vital information and, if he could tolerate the connection again, more might yet be gained. He had hoped to gain insight into the mind of the other leader. However, the other had been so... alien... that he had no idea of what 'it' might be thinking. Even now, his own thoughts were following strange paths, the angles in his tent seemed somehow off, and why was he thinking about climbing stairs?

"climbing up the stair,
the wind moans,
the sound of despair..."

The thought drifted through Cetewayo's mind, almost without him realizing it. He determined to ignore these strange, wayward thoughts. There were no stairs in the camp... Then he realized that exposure to this alien presence was not without cost. Well, he had recovered from death... He felt his mind drifting into that strange mode again and realized that he did NOT want to think about death in that way. He would just have to deal with this as well. He Had Conquered Death. He paused, and felt none of the strange thoughts forming. More confident, he decided that a few strange thoughts after exposure to such an unusual being was to be expected and dismissed it as unimportant. On to more important things, he had a sudden craving for a rare steak... and maybe something crunchy...

[puffyn]

Panther,

Glad to hear you appreciate the yarns. I definitely am in this game mainly for the narrative aspects, not anything so crass as "winning". (And this has nothing - nothing! - to do with the score graphs, no sir.)

Still, the point system helps keep me writing every turn, even when I'm not particularly inspired. If we are going to find replacements for some of these races who aren't leading, it might be a not-insignificant incentive to provide them with the points to allow them to remain competitive in scoring.

On a somewhat related note, Caelum actually *is* doing quite well (*sniff* better than Arco), and would be a good choice for someone who wanted to take over a race and have to worry more about coming up with a good narrative then about surviving the next few turns. Of course, I'm more than happy to keep playing them, but it's fun to have new stories to read... (Panther...?)

Puffyn

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 17 ----

It was not long ago that I marched by the side of the great Alexander, learnt battle formations and strategy from his cunning hand. Now, abandoned by the same, I am forced to listen to a local crazy woman about how to arrange my troops.

The hoplite formation was designed to fight as one unit, the spears and weight of the rear ranks lending support to the front line. Stacked sixteen rows deep, this dread formation is nearly unbreakable in battle. I was there at Cunaxa, when the entire wing of the Persian army fled merely at our approach. Imagine if you were dressed in light cloth, armed with a short sword, and, with a rabble of your companions, you looked up to see the sun glinting off a thousand Greek shields, a thousand Greek spearheads blackening the sky. Only insanity or superhuman bravery would compel you to stand your ground, much less fling yourself onto their lines to have your body broken and trampled forever into the dust.

Nowhere on earth has anyone been able to withstand the phalanx. A hundred, a thousand years from now, men will still march out in this formation; it is the ultimate, definitive, triumphant Last word in warfare.

But, no, heaven forbid we go with what works. I know, let's divide the strength of the phalanx into tiny little two and three man squads, cluster each of them around a bloody mystic, and, what's more, test this formation in battle, not against a light rabble, but a strongly defended province reputed to be guarded by women who are renowned for their battle progress. But Divikar carries orders from the village elders that Amshula should try this new tactic, and so we are all going to die.

A scout from the eastern marches has sent word that a disturbing race dwells north of this warrior-women province. Their practices are rumored to be quite barbaric, and I hope they have been somewhat exaggerated. On the other hand... sacrificing female virgins. I mean, it's wrong and despicable, an affront to civilization. But I cannot help thinking that Amshula has never been married...

Divikar also brings word of another failed attack upon Skeldmarsh. Apparently a few locals decided to steal some hoplite armor and go avenge Limmy's death. They were scattered like leaves, but some people cannot get enough punishment, and so they are preparing yet another attack. Apparently all the semi-intelligent people on the council have been overruled by the Limmy fanatics, who spend all their time wandering around, wailing his name.

---

[Sedna]

Turn 17, R'lyeh

Owie.

Such nasty little men on their horses, oh, we hates them, nasty sharp pointy lances... and too clever by far. I didn't see -- ha ha, little joke there -- the one who skewered me, though when I sucked the brains out of the closest one I could find the memory of his malice was still fresh. Such a waste -- his mind was riddled with all these unpleasant tasting tumors -- but by the time I could clear the taste out of my mind the horses were gone, and I was surrounded by chattel. It's like filling up on the bread before you can get to the main course: by the time I consumed all of the weak troops, the good meat had fled already.

And bLasted cancer-boy had to go weaken my claw-arm, on top of it all.

The rest of my little empire goes well. Someone finally managed to persuade a local lad that the "giant sucking monster of death", as I am affectionately known in the local parlance, was far enough away that he could take up academic studies, and he shall be finished with his training soon. One of my cowardly Ilithid Lords has also sent word that he has secured Red Lake for me, and I go now toward him with visions of freshwater trout. I also hear that one of my Starspawn is working on a heavenly clam sauce that he can't wait to share with me. Good minions.

At least there are no nasty horses at my next meal stop.

Do you realize that there is unconquered sea still to the south of me? I swear, nothing, nothing gets done without me. What have my followers been doing back home? Could they not have delivered into my empire a couple provinces defended by a few fish? I'll kill them, kill them all.

Oh, and it's probably time to send another dolphin messenger to my neighbors. It's such an obvious prelude to killing them all. Oh, the Messages will be peaceable enough. But... mwhahahahaha. I'm such a sneaky god. They'll never see it coming.

[CuriousCat]

Machaka: Turn 17

Cetewayo and his retinue performed the rituals which would sensitise them to the existence of magical power began to search. Cetewayo had been very disappointed with the dearth of magic in the lands he had conquered. However, he was sure that this time the search would pay off. He could feel the presence of magic. If only he could find it! They had been walking through the forest for hours when Cetewayo began to notice a change. The trees were becoming strange. It was not yet Autumn, but more of the leaves on the trees were yellow, orange and red. However, none of them had fallen from the trees. It was as if these brilliant colors were their natural state. Soon all of the leaves were the color of flame. Cetewayo could sense the presence of magic so very close. He relaxed and allowed the magic to call him. Soon he heard superstitious mutterings from his retinue. He brought himself out of the partial trance into which he had sunk and was surprised by what he saw. They had come to a small grove of trees. Like all of the trees in sight, their leaves were a combination of yellow, orange and red. However, these trees didn't just look like flame, their leaves were burning, yet not consumed. There was a tangible heat being given off by the trees ahead. The heat wasn't unpleasant, especially for a Machakan. In the center of the grove was a circle of trees and there, in the middle Cetewayo found it. Now he understood the difficulty he had experienced identifying the magic. Laying there on the ground was the answer to the puzzle. There were two magical gems. One was the deep red of a fire gem. The other gem was the lustrous green of nature magic. This flaming forest would be a source of both nature and fire magic. This find was very good news. Most of his magicians used nature and fire gems for their magic.

That evening there was a celebration in the camp. They had found a new, reliable source of magic. Alone it wasn't enough to ensure the health of the nation, but it helped and they had been a part of it. Cetewayo relaxed and observed the festivities. As he relaxed he felt the presence of magic. This was not the flaming growth he had found earlier. This magic felt colder, darker. It felt appropriate to seek this site at night. He quickly left the party behind. They had camped in the ruins of an old city. As he walked he began to feel the magic more strongly. The further from the living he got the stronger the magic seemed. He entered a large ruin and sensed the magic was very near. He was surprised. He was sure that he was sensing death magic. Thus, he had anticipated a cemetery or prison. However, from the little that remained, this seemed to be some sort of hotel or mansion. As he continued he realized that the magic was originating from beneath him. Luckily, he could simply choose to pass through the ground. He emerged into an underground crypt. He realized his mistake. The wealthy among these people had buried their dead in underground crypts under their homes. This one was quite impressive. He could sense powerful magic here. It would be a source of considerable power. This was very welcome news. Well, the workers that would have to excavate the site probably wouldn't be celebrating while they were digging. Death magic frightened most people, however there were those among his magicians who knew how to use it. This would enable them to do so.

[magnate]

Hi folks,

Sorry to be so absent. Running on an old 2MB S3 card at the moment, while my RadeOn9600 crosses the atlantic for RMA. Also stupendously busy at work, and likely to remain so until xmas. I'll try and update scores at least once a week from now on.

Well done on the yarns, they're really getting very interesting and entertaining. I would urge the non-spinning players to come out of the woodwork and join the fun!

Turn 14: Arco 2, Machaka 2, R'lyeh 2
Turn 15: Arco 2, Machaka 3, Man 3, R'lyeh 2
Turn 16: Arco 2, Caelum 2, Machaka 2, Man 2, R'lyeh 2

Totals after turn 16:
Abysia 14
Arco 33
Atlantis 2
Caelum 6
Ermor 20
Machaka 26
Man 17
Mictlan 6
R'lyeh 23
Vanheim 4

All the best,

CC

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 18 ----

Early fall.

The other night I dreamt of home. It was early evening on the docks, and I was watching the sails turn orange. A cool breeze blew, carrying the smell of distant rain, and I turned slightly to see Thymbre standing next to me. I knew that she had actually never been to Pagasae, having left her tiny mountainous village as a small child to serve in the temple at Delphi, and then to join the great campaign, but we stood together and watched the ships glow for a while, then fade to dark. There was no moon that evening, and gradually everything disappeared except for the distant stars. She never spoke.

When I awoke, it was hot and muggy, as it has been every morning for months, and swamp-stench filled the air, along with the sounds of soldiers banging out their armor and preparing for battle. Thymbre was gone, of course, further from reach even than distant Pagasae which I doubt I shall ever see again. Perhaps while I have been away fighting wars in lands I care nothing for it too has disappeared forever, and that is why I dreamt of them both.

The battle that morning reminded me so much of that other terrible day of cold, hard death: fearless women with spears, some mounted upon strange beasts (lizards this time; I am getting so sick of swamps and their lizards and snakes and other scaly beasts), led by sorceresses who dabbled in unnatural forces, and a sickly evil feeling to the land. Our few light troops fell almost at once to the advancing lizard-warriors, or scattered, and the first volleys between the magicians on both sides traded ineffectual beams of light for useless sparks of fire, as a dozen riders bore down upon us. I felt an odd queasy sensation, as if the world were about to turn very wrong again.

But my silver shields have been through much, and were not about to fail this time; the death of some only emboldened the rest to fight harder. I had joined my men at this point (I could not stand at the rear, not this time), and I saw many strange things brought against us, like vines rising from the ground to entangle our feet. But what really made my blood boil was when I heard the cries of the small figures in white at the far end of the battle field, and saw the bloody knives being taken to them, and I realized then what great evil I had been sensing. At this point, Amshula unexpectedly did something incredibly useful, killing several enemy foot soldiers with a giant ball of flame, and I silently apologized for wishing such a bloody fate upon her.

It was a bloody battle -- over half of my silver shields lay dead on the ground -- but we prevailed, and the enemy turned and fled. I made sure that neither of the evil women in charge left that field, though sadly many of the innocent sacrificial victims were also killed in the retreat. The rest begged us to kill them, claiming that if we let them go they would only be caught again by the dread kingdom to the north, where even more unspeakably evil things would be done to them. I plan to send them back toward Thymbre's temple, where perhaps they will have a chance to heal.

When I saw Amshula afterwards, I thanked her and her brother for helping in the fight, particularly for stunning the fleeing enemy mages so that we could catch up with them, and gave her permission to go off and look for her magic sites (as if forbidding her would have stopped her, but it felt good to pretend). She replied, cryptically, "I was only following what is written." When I looked at her quizzically, she said, "Try reading your book for a change, perhaps it will keep you from being so confused all the time," and strode off.

The only book I had was the silly one Thymbre had given me, The Collected Sayings of Pandokos the Prophet... but sure enough, on page 3, it contained a conversation I had had with my quartermaster in a tavern in Oast Hills years ago. I had said -- sorry, let me just quote it here, for I am, if anything, even more confused:

"And Pandokos of the odd smell of horse spoke thusly, saying: 'And you know what would be great? If giant balls of flame poured down from the sky and killed everyone, so we didn't have to risk getting our armor dented.' And the men did laugh, but Balachandra, first of the wise, came to the elders, and said: 'Let us make it so.' And they set to work..."

---

[Yvelina]

I did read with amusement about the free dwarven hammer and gems from Vanheim to Caelum. Those two races were originally begun by boyfriend and girlfriend and that is the way they always play on those occasions when they both join the same game. They are always allied on day 1, they never attack each other, they give gems, money and artifacts freely between each other, and they will assist one another as needed throughout the course of the game. It is kind of sad that they felt the need to do that in a game that is supposedly for fun only.

Panther, I think you are missing a big part of what a multiplayer game of Dominions II is about. There is something called 'diplomacy'. It involves setting common goals, making common decisions, and implementing coordinated plans... all of this for a common benefit.

I know that you think that me and Petar are cheating by 'allying on turn one'. I have written more than I care to admit trying to explain exactly what our non-agression pact entails, how much weaker than an alliance it is, and that I cooperate less with Petar than with any other ally of mine.

Still, you continue to slander us, any little chance you get. You and Cohen, two of a lousy kind. You both have suffered humiliating defeats, and you will go to any extents to somehow explain your pathetic showing with anything but lack of skill. I am really tired of you dragging our names through the mud. Petar and I no longer play MP games together but there is no shutting you up, is there?

Let me tell you about the Last game I played... as an example of the kind of diplomatic relationships I often enter.

I found C'tis capital early on. There still was a three province indy layer between us. I messaged him and offered a fair division of all the indy provinces between us. We agreed on a non-agression pact and started trading at once.

Soon afterwards, we pooled our death gems, in order to forge path boosters and throw a 'Well of Misery' up. We shared the death income from the global until it was dispelled. We coordinated our globals, for example he let me keep a Gift of Health until my pretender was healed, and then I left the slot open when he needed to heal his Tartarians.

When the nearby world war about produce a clear, powerful winner, we coordinated an attack on Jotunheim, and split him among ourselves. This forcibly pacified everyone else, as the leading nation stopped rolling its enemies over, and brought the troops home in case we kept going beyond Jotunheim's borders.

Afterward, we exchanged spy information, coordinated our covert sabotage of Abysia, while, of course, maintaining our trade. Eventually, the cold war became hot, and when Abysia was pressing C'tis pretty hard, I was supplying him with air gems, staff of Storms, and anything that he could use to turn the tide... at a time he could not afford to pay me at once. When he handed the main devil army a sound defeat, I like to think it was at least partly because of my help.

Well, I was not sitting idle at the time - I had taken over Arcocephales, and then in two or three turns left Pythium with nothing but besiged castles.

At that time, C'tis realized that I was the one to beat, and allied the surviving nations against me... but until that time, we were communicating daily, coordinating our moves and we were stronger for it. And, I assure you, C'tis was not being played by my boyfriend.

In another game, which I am playing right now, I have just a strong an alliance with another nation. We agreed on common borders before turn ten, we trade extensively, we are crushing a common enemy, and we have coordinated pretty much every attack since the beginning of the war. It has happened that one of us was late in a trade, and it is ok. And again, this is a third player, not my boyfriend, and not the C'tis player from 'Live and Learn'.

This, dear Panther, is diplomacy. It helps two nations become stronger by negating each other's weaknesses. Unless diplomacy is expressely forbidden by house rules, it is madness not to trade and coordinate as much as possible. I play Vanheim, and I have found that being the friendly smith is a great way to smooth the bumps in the road to victory. I scout extensively and try to draw borders that are mutually agreeable. I hate early wars, and unless an agressive player like Cohen inflicts them on me, I stay out of them...

And you constant harping annoys me a lot. I do not mind it when people are wary of me because of my victories. I do very much hate it when someone tries to dismiss my successes with 'oh, her boyfriend helped her'.