[~]After a long series of misadventures, wacky antics, and murder, Duke Raoul of Caedan announces, after the fact, his quiet, private marriage to Princess Amelia Crystophe III, Princess of Amius. He assumes the title Prince of Amuis, which becomes a protectorate under his command, of Nocte, unofficially, of course.
[3+1+1-1] The population seems content, if not excited, with this turn of events, especially after both princess and new prince give charismatic, if vague, speeches about the future of Amuis, and peace between the two nations. The Princess, however, is the only one who panders to ancient pride.
[2] The mercenary forces of the late captain...something, lacking the leadership, decides to rob and loot Amuis' copper mine. The mine is reduced to a size one mine by the damages inflicted on a number of support columns within the mine itself, collapsing many of the tunnels and pits within.
+Three parcels of land= 3d/season
+Size 4 city= 4d/season
+Size 1 copper mine= .5d/season
-6d/season forTribute, Government expenses, Guard payments, Relief Funds, Bribes
+1.5d/season
Nope, definitely not a spy.
[1+1] Something seems to click within Jaklin's mind, and she draws a sword, leveling it at you much like Gin's finger is. "So that's what you were saying you slimy bastard of a snake." she growls, advancing, "Surrender or face the consequences, spy!"
"Well that was surprisingly easy." ((OOC: Just a quick word here, would you want to finish the diplomacy thingy over IRC?))
Stuff.
[3] The investment...yields little to no immediate results, only apparently increasing next year's income by .5d/season. The people are, however, boosted by your apparent generosity, especially in this trying time for the fur-traders and timbermen. (+1 morale!) .
[~]((Azthor handled it))
[2+1] A few Dru border patrols give you gruff, but you manage to slip pass them. Amuis seeming to lack most if not all the guards needed to keep its own border patrolled. The roads, ancient and old, are full of potholes, bumps, and sudden endings, and the going is rough, worse than if you just followed a forest path.
[5]\[1] The roads, which are in such disarray, require an entire five ducats to repair and rebuild, [2] stone is also lacking in Nocte, most quarries unable to put out the amount of stone and rock required for construction and repair. [2] You also find few masons willing to work in this scorching hot summer, when they much rather be enjoying working on their crops and own houses and barns and what-have-you.
[4] The merchant, who you later meet with, protests, but in the end is silenced by his own greed. Roads are required to import it in via wagon train efficiently and quickly, but a small amount still leaks into Nocte via the occasional wagon train.[5-1] You put heavy restrictions on it, making it hard to get ahold of unless you’re a doctor, or in the case of Darkdream, a torturer or cultist.
[~] You enter the palace of Amuis, the guards letting you in without even frisking or searching you, and find the Princess, a young, brunette woman, far younger than you remember the last time you came here, yelling at a set of workmen, who are moving her throne slightly to one side, and installing another. [1] A tall, blond man stands beside her, arms crossed behind his back, before he slips them into pockets built into his shirt there, staring blank-faced, turning around abruptly and stepping in front of the princess’s back, who seems none the wiser.
“May I help you, ma‘am?”Send Diplomats to Claine, offering Wood and Pelt Trade.
Send Diplomats to Isris offering the same Trade and measuring if they would be willing to strike an alliance.
Find out where the hell our River leads...
[6]Claine sends back your diplomat with treasures of bone and large, massive, wagon-bound chunks of salted, preserved whale-meat. It seems Claine is quite prosperous, and requires both of your nation's trade goods; for coats to fight the harsh frozen seas, and wood to build ships and harpoons. However, there's the issue that for any trade to be efficient and not just throwing money at bandits, a path would have to be cut through Dru. [.3 ducats worth of gifts and meat]
[6] They decline your offer of alliance, citing a need to be impartial in these rough, war-like times, but they still send you a well-forged few steel blades and other trinkents, and an agreement to trade with you if you managed to construct a road through the harsh, unforgiving forest of the northlands, to their mountain halls. [.7 ducats worth of gifts]
[6]The river leads down to the bay, through Dru, slicing pass Amuis, going over some rapids, through Claine, before finally arriving down in the rough, clear bay. However, due to the river's rapid flow and it's near-impossible to paddle against the current, the scouts arrive in fall by land, worn down, rough, and quite a few injured.
While recovering from the warg / specter incidents, go through all the books available in the city and from Araline on the subject of creatures. Look for weaknesses of the most common and the most dangerous foes.
[3]Most of what you receive is tales, legends and old stories, but you notice a few grains of truth within the works. But what you really find disconcerting is what you begin to read upon Specters, especially the fearsome Lt-yan of the frozen highlands and cold winters when the Heat from Under Earth is sparse.
[2]
A being of ~~~~ from the ~~~~~, summoned by ~~~~~ ~~~~, as well as ~~~~~~~~~ spi~~~ possibil~~y being re~~~~~ to ~~~. Upon slaying reverts to ~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~d a~~. Must b~~ ~~~~~~~~ to ~~~~ or ~~~~, or bound wi~~~~ ~~~~ or it will ~~~~~~. Made of blue ~~~~~ fire, bestial, taking the ~~~~ and ~~~~~ of the recently ~~~~ to bind it ~~~~ this ~~~~~...
[6]The entire text is like that, the handwriting of this person so atrocious that you cannot even read the scrawled name on the back of the book. But, you do notice that the front is thick, with plates of metal attached to the leather, scarred by marks and nicks and stained with blood.
[~][~]
"Drop your weapons." the man speaks to his guards simply, glancing at them both and making eye contact, before kneeling in front of King Logan. And, both do, the latter struggling with his axe, the other dropping to a knee beside the Silver Knight, throwing his sword into the hallway behind him, face blank.
"My highness, permission to speak?" and that's when the two of you notice the blood beginning to drip from the young man's nose, unto the floor, and he mutters a swear under his breath as he too notices it. He pinches the bridge of it and remains silent, the blood slowly stopping.
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Topic: You are King: Chronicles of Nocte - IC Thread (Read 18946 times)