MP Game - Yarnspinners

[Sedna]

Turn 18, R'lyeh

Sometimes visions float into my head, unbidden; "They love me in Shreveport, and I've never even shreved."

I saw a temple, twisted in form, dark in color, with a gaping, tortured hole at the center, raised up by a hundred peasant hands. On those sat the building itself, glistening in sweat and seaweed, and reflecting the light of a million dead stars. The locals danced and sang, and tried in vain to clap along with the music.

In the inner court, there stood a thousand foot statue of me: horrible sacrifices were offered into my tentacle and blood poured out and down over the bronze, forming a lake at my feet. Seven priests were in constant attendance, guarding the gate, polishing my bronze, and rendering fat for the thousand candles that flickered in the grotto. In the outer courts, throngs of waif-like worshipers, so caught up in their love of me they do not eat, pressed against one another and the razor-sharp lichens which infested the walls. In amongst them, merchants had set up stands, selling sacrificial animals, dark vials of spice, and the cutest little cthulhu plush dolls.

Ah... my people love me. For their spontaneous dedication of this temple to me, I shall award the good people of North Hengewood the privilege to be the first of my subjects eaten when I am grown large enough to devour the world.

For my part, this month saw yet another battle. A score of crossbow bolts flittered in the air and then I was upon them, and it was all sucking and little splotches of blood. Next month will be an exciting one. My army from the south will secure the bridge of crows, I will move north towards the lake, and I shall control all points of access to the lands between the Red River and the setting sun.

Construction of my coastal fortress continues apace. Soon my dedicated scholars will have their own offices (with windows) in which to contemplate the ways of the world. Work faster sages of time! Mmmm... sage and thyme.

My tummy is all growly. Off to eat something...

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 19 ----

There is war coming to this land, yet I am traveling away from it.

We were attacked Last week, by a band of villains, who were trying to sneak past our camp, to what evil ends I do not know, since none are left alive. Fortunately, I had begun training the locals -- with so few of my soldiers unhurt, and reinforcements weeks away, we needed some help to defend our lands -- and one of them spied the band as it crossed an open field. The cowards quickly ran away, but their commander collapsed as they fled, and we were able to round up everyone else and kill them. Divikar claims that he caused the commander to die, though since I didn't notice any fire or beams of light I'm not sure how he expects me to believe him.

What I did notice was a slight queasy feeling again, and then I had the most bizarre impression of being able to see through four of my silver shields as they charged toward the villains. I turned to face Divikar, and I could see through him, too, and he laughed at the look on my face. "What did you do to my soldiers?" I demanded. "Pandokos, look at yourself," he said, and laughed again. And sure enough, my hands had that same ethereal shimmer to them. "What, you didn't notice you were like that all of the Last battle?" said Amshula, as she mumbled words of protection under her breath.

"I was?"

"Why do you think you didn't get touched even though you were in the thick of the battle?" she continued. "For that matter, why more of you spear-throwers didn't get your fool selves killed, rushing in to the battle instead of remaining sensibly at the back, fighting with your heads."

For one thing, of course, we don't throw our spears, I was about to say, but was distracted by the odd sight of a bug crawling on the back side of my hand. Perhaps there's something to be said for this...

It was only while interrogating the captive villains that I learned that they were not just a band of brigands harassing the countryside, but rather had been hired by the bloody kingdom to the north to test our weaknesses. I suspect that more of them shall follow, though for the moment there is little sign of troops on our borders. Divikar claims to have heard from home (though how he is in communication with them, I do not know, since no runners have entered this land in weeks) that there is a sizable force coming from home toward the Last village we rescued, and that I am to proceed there to join them in "liberating" another nearby land. ("In a swamp?" I asked, expecting the answer. "A swamp," he grinned.)

I worry about leaving the two mystics alone here with only their local troops, but Amshula claims that she will build up defenses, so that by the time I have returned we shall be ready to fight. I hope that they can keep their minds on military matters, and not get distracted, as so often happens. (Gods only know what they'd do if they actually found one of these sites of mystical power they keep looking for...) I wonder if they are up to something, though; Last night, just before Divikar gave me my new orders, I caught them chattering excitedly, but though they smiled broadly at me they refused to tell me why.

Perhaps it is just as well that I am leaving.

---

[Alneyan]

My apologises for not spinning of late. Various other games (namely Stars), lack of focus and some papers to produce for school have resulted in no yarn for a while. But then, it isn't that unusual for me, so.

Incidentally, if anyone has advice on how to have some sort of focus on a single task, I would be more than interested in hearing about it. (The only way I can make myself do something, even something I actually like, being to take a rope and to make sure I cannot escape until said task is finished)

[magnate]

Yvelina said:

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.

[snip]

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'.

Yvelina, you are free to say this is none of my business, because I don't know about the history of any other games, but, I'd like to offer an objective (never been involved) view.

There is a difference between two independent players forming a pact or alliance, and two players essentially playing as a single force with twice the resources (and brainpower!) as everyone else.

It is easy for other people to see any couple as the latter rather than the former - there is a clear instinctive reluctance to believe that they will actually compete against each other, possibly backstab each other etc. etc.

Of course, there are couples who play against each other very competitively, and don't always ally with each other etc. - but there are plenty enough couples who do always play together that they fall into the Category of effectively being a single player with an unfair advantage.

If you and Petar have that kind of reputation, however undeserved it may be, it's probably a good idea that you don't play in the same game, unless you know all the other players very well and are sure that they won't distrust you both!

Having said all that, most people seem to have agreed that this game isn't really about winning as much as spinning good yarns (if you won the yarn points but don't win the score-graph points, would that matter?!). So I hope nobody is too bothered either way.

Keep spinning,

CC

[Sedna]

Turn 19, R'lyeh

Great Iron Mines Batman! It was such a lightly guarded mountain village. I seized the high ground, and laughed to myself as the locals frantically grabbed spears, sticks, and hunting knives and struggled up-hill against the snow, giving me loads of time to prepare the familiar rituals which make me invincible: Quickness, Ethereal, Luck, Twist Fate. I have become so used to these spells I could cast them with my eyes closed, if I had any.

After the Last crunchy village baby, I noticed the mounds of iron slag sitting outside the town, only barely covered with a light dusting of snow. Beyond them, a well beaten mud path led me to the mine. It is good that minors are so tasty, because these miners will be necessary to continue digging the iron and shipping it down to the bottom of Red Lake, where my Illithids have been rounding up many volunteer Atlantians, who hope for a better life for them and their families. I shall gird them in steel and send them out to redden the seas.

As for batman? I knew that the Count of Katak-Ukon was going to be trouble the moment I first met him after that battle. He seemed... less cowered than most of the humans I appoint as puppet dictators. (In Takini I actually appointed a puppet as their new lord. That actually worked remarkably well until Last month, when the puppet inexplicably failed to deal with some brigands who had taken up residence there, forcing me to intervene. Needless to say, that puppet's head now rests in my display case, and another, more competent, piece of fabric is now in charge).

Sorry, I was talking about Folke, who now styles himself as a vampire. Apparently, the humans of this land are scared of such puny creatures, mainly because they suck the life out of their fellows (which is odd, as I do pretty much the same thing, and yet my citizens do nothing except praise me all day). At some point I'll have to send someone to deal with this usurper and his rabble.

Sammy, my first brave little sage, has uncovered a few valuable secrets. In an ancient tome he found the mystical incantations needed to re-arrange huge masses in the heavens, forming a giant lens which focuses the light of nearby O stars onto the surface of this planet. The effect should, in theory, be devastating. If the mass could be moved precisely enough, it would mean the destruction of this pathetic rock in a cataclysm of fire. Without such fine control (which I do not expect my servants to master) it will merely burn my enemies on the battle-field. Furthermore, Sammy has found a way to project his self into distant lands, and see the men and warriors contained therein. A useful skill, but I hope he did not discover it in an attempt to flee my service. The commander of the local construction crew, one Farol by name, says he often discovers Sammy wandering far from his office. Sammy claims to be sleep walking, but it is a mite suspicious that he always seems to have all his worldly possessions strapped to his back. I know, I shall volunteer a young lady into the sage-line. Then Sammy will have a friend, and maybe he won't leave me.

[CuriousCat]

Machaka: Turn 18

Cetewayo returned to the surface with some relief. He would never admit it to anyone, in fact he barely admitted it to himself, but after being trapped in his own tomb for such a long time he had something of an aVersion to tombs and mausoleums in general. It was ironic, but it would remain a private irony. He made his silent way back to the camp to resume his observations of the celebration. Morning would be soon enough to organize a party to excavate the newest cause for rejoicing.

Meanwhile, soon after Cetewayo left the tent to go on his private search, Karo the Machaka Hoplite acting as Cetewayo's chief body guard this evening noticed that the King was gone. "Not again!" he thought to himself. He was going to get into trouble again! It seemed like the King, blessed be his name, blah, blah, yada, yada was always sneaking away from his guards. Of course, Karo wasn't sure what he was supposed to protect the King from... he was already dead... sort of. Anyway, he had seen the King in battle and he knew that anything that would cause the King pause would destroy him and his men easily. That fact didn't change the fact he and his men had been ordered, along with the other guards, to maintain a constant guard on the King. The orders had come from the High Priests of all three Priestly Orders. It would not be a good thing for those very powerful men to decide that he had disobeyed their orders. Karo immediately passed the word for the guards to begin their search. Hopefully they would find the King before anyone else noticed his absence.

As Cetewayo approached the camp he noticed his "guards" resuming formation around him. He found their presence mildly amusing. Did they really think that they were guarding him? If so, against what? He was fairly certain that some, if not all, were in the employ of the High Priests. He was unsure of the High Priests' motivations. Especially after his recent "illness" he had his suspicions. Until he had significantly more than suspicions he would have to act as though they were above reproach.

Doing things himself had turned out well. Cetewayo decided to try it again. He would gather his army and lead it himself. He sank deep into a trance and communicated his commands to the priests in the capital as well as his prophet Babu. He emerged from the trance confident that his forces would meet him to prepare the invasion of the rich coastal province that had repulsed his armies once already.

[CuriousCat]

Machaka: Turn 19

The time was right. His forces were ready. Cetewayo was pleased that the High Priests in the capital had managed to recruit this large force. He had a mixture of heavily armored hoplites combined with a large number of lightly armed archers. Hopefully the combination would prove strong enough. He decided that he would be prepared to become the deciding factor himself should it prove necessary.

Day began to lighten the field. Karo faced the coming battle with mixed feelings. He looked forward to the battle, but dreaded it as well as all experienced warriors did. However, his mind was further divided. It had finally happened. The King, The God, had given him orders in direct conflict with those given by the High Priests. The High Priests had given absolute orders for a constant retinue of guards for the King. There had been times when the King had disappeared. Karo knew he would be held responsible for those disappearances that had occurred while he was on duty. However, now he was leaving the King's side to fight a battle. Of course, he was doing it on direct orders of the King. He was very unsure what the High Priests would do. They were very... direct with those who disobeyed their orders for whatever reason. But he HAD to obey the God didn't he?!? Surely they would agree, after all they were HIS High Priests... weren't they?

Cetewayo could tell that his orders had caused considerable consternation among the guards who had been scheduled to attend him that day. He had been very careful not to challenge the High Priests' power directly. However, the immediate victory was more important than some petty political posturing. The response would also give him valuable insight into the motivations and intentions of the High Priests. Some might think him paranoid, but they did not have his finely honed political sense, that ability to feel the currents of power and influence. It was possible that the High Priests had not been behind his recent illness, but he was not willing to take that sort of naive risk.

The battle began slowly, as did most. The defenders began the battle. They had one of those deluded mortals who claimed to be a priest. Cetewayo was amused. What god did this priest worship? Cetewayo could sense the other quasi-divine beings in the world and he could tell that this priest worshiped none of them. This creature would prove to be ineffective, his powers weak. Cetewayo hoped to be able to eviscerate the fool himself. The defenders launched a full flight of arrows at extreme range. They were very lucky and actually killed a couple of the Machakan soldiers. Babu the Prophet began the response by shouting a prayer for vengeance upon The God's enemies. Cetewayo was pleased that Babu was so enthusiastic, but he thought that Babu could surely do something a bit more practical. As for himself, Cetewayo decided that he would prepare to take part in the battle should it become necessary. He focused his powers and suddenly everything seemed to slow. Everything was moving at half speed. His own archers fired arrows to darken the sky. They caused damage, but killed no one. Cetewayo hoped that things would improve. More incoming arrows proved completely harmless, not even bouncing off of a shield. To Cetewayo's great approval, Babu began a rousing prayer that seemed to instill an almost mindless fanaticism among the troops. Cetewayo further cast Mistform and Protection as his archers released once more. This time they created havoc among the enemy, killing a number of his archers and wounding that stupid priest.

After casting Ironskin and Mirror Image Cetewayo decided that he would join in the fight immediately rather than wait for dire need. He quickly approached the lightly armed militias. As he approached them he noticed that the enemy priest had fallen under a hail of arrows. His visage was frightening indeed as he laughed his way into battle. He fought alongside his hoplites. The archers proved almost too effective, mowing down the militia men before Cetewayo and the hoplites could engage them. There were plenty more heavily armed infantry men behind them though. The battle degenerated into a bloody fray.

That night around the camp there was much celebration. The men were happy to have survived, although there were some wounded. Cetewayo was pleased. This province was a wealthy one. It was a rich farmland and the trade along the river was an additional bounty. Losses had been light. Soon it would be time to further expand the Machaka nation.

[magnate]

Turn 17: Arco 2, R'lyeh 2, Machaka 2
Turn 18: Arco 3, R'lyeh 2, Machaka 2

Totals after turn 18:
Abysia 14
Arco 38
Atlantis 2
Caelum 6
Ermor 20
Machaka 30
Man 17
Mictlan 6
R'lyeh 27
Vanheim 4

CC

[CuriousCat]

Machaka: Turn 20

The battle had been a great success. Cetewayo was quite pleased with the outcome. Perhaps he should have taken a more personal role earlier. He sent word to the capital for reinforcements to meet him in route to his next conquest.

The march was hot and dry as the army crossed the plains. Karo and the other guards had resumed their duty to constantly accompany the King. He still disappeared from time to time, but they had not again voluntarily left him alone. Of course, after the battle few of the men believed that they could do much to defend the King that he could not accomplish more easily himself. During the battle he had moved like a blur and had seemed to be many places at once. He had killed a large number of the enemy and had never received a wound. Before the King had been respected because of his secular position and his obvious supernatural nature. However, now the superstitious dread was beginning to change into a more genuine respect for his abilities. Before the Priests had declared Cetewayo's divinity and everyone had acknowledged him as such. However, for most people this acknowledgement was simply mouthing the words that they were told to repeat. Now, however, the army was beginning to believe in the King's divinity on a much more visceral level.

Cetewayo noticed the more profound respect with which the soldiers had begun treating him. Their awe was now based on his battle prowess. In time they would realize his divinity with the entirety of their souls. He simply had to continue his success, expand the empire and make their lives better. A simple matter for a god. But could he do it?

[puffyn]

---- Arcoscephale, Turn 20 ----

Military life is hostile to butter. I served under the great Alexander as he cut through the kingdoms of the world. We spent many seasons under the scorching Egyptian desert sun, where my butter turned to soup, and many more in the mountains of Medea, when my butter was rock hard in the bitter mornings. Yet somehow these swamps spoil butter faster than anywhere else in the known world. Every morning I stumble over to my saddle-bags and withdraw the precious day's ration, and every morning it is the consistency of sludge and smells of brackish water—barely worth putting on my moldy bread at all.

It is said that when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept that there were no more worlds to conquer. This morning, I wept, for spoilt as it may be, I still need my butter every morning. But today it was gone from my bags.

Around the hottest, most insect-filled part of the day, Balachandra arrived at the camp, with a small contingent of horsemen, a few more hoplites, and... My heart beat quickly for a moment when I saw the green robes of Apollo, the chestnut brown locks... but of course it was not my Thymbre. Stories spin false hopes in man. It is hard not to lie awake at night, thinking of Orpheus, the greatest singer this world will ever know, who descended into the Underworld, and would have won the release of his love, Eurydice, had he not looked back at the Last moment. It is foolishness. I have seen many strange things in this land, but the river is deep and cold, and those who pass it will never return.

I later had a chance to talk with this priestess of Apollo. She was called Andromache, and her familiar appearance was no accident, for in fact she was one of the slaves I had rescued from the evil warrior-women some months ago. She had fled the site of her torment, and arrived at Thymbre's temple, there entering into the divine mysteries. We wandered along the edge of the bog, helping pull each other out of the deadly quicksand. It was strange seeing a local woman in the Greek religious garb, but she had learned only enough during her short training at the temple to make her fairly burst with ridiculous questions:

"Is it true that Apollo raced with Hermes at the first Pythian Games at Delphi?"

"No... well, it depends. The stories we tell about the gods are really stories about ourselves. No one has ever actually seen one of the gods, but by believing in their stories, we become more like the gods ourselves."

"Wow, Apollo must have raced really fast if no one saw him!"

How could I explain to this girl that I had competed for the bay-leaf crown in the hoplite race many years ago. The gods were honored at the races, it was true, but they were not there. It was just men, the hot sun, and a will to win. Luckily, the conversation was interrupted by Balachandra, who carried new orders from the village council.

It should come as no great surprise that their missive nonsensically ordered us to turn back around and trudge back to the village of the warrior-women. There, to do... who knows what? Balachandra was certainly no help; all he cared about (I swear by Zeus I am not making this up) was whether my butter ration had disappeared that morning. When I assured him that it had, he face split in a ridiculous grin.

---