This will not be the first time this thread is necroed...This time I took a big, big hiatus to refine my craft.
But now I miss my little people and I want to spend a few in game years with them before I move on to more serious project. So maybe a couple more updates coming soon.
Thanks to everyone taking the time of reading my prose.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Fall 152
The death of AlalaSummer came to an end, and the trees turned to red as temperatures started to fall in early september. In most pearlite villages, autumn and winter were peaceful, tranquil times : the nights becoming longer, travelling would become impractical – darkness was still rumored to kill lone travellers. Work of the crops was lighter, and the rising cold would tend to bring the clans together in the meadhalls.
For Kimaeslo Ori however, autumn was the occasion of redoubling the efforts – the dwarves of the kingdom of Nishtiz would come visit the settlement soon, hopefully bringing with them bars of their magical iron. Everything had to be ready for their arrival : merchanises should be prepared and presented ; roads needed to be cleaned. Meals needed to be prepared and alcohol stockpiled in the tavern. Nishtiz merchants had to be received like royalty – the dwarven metal they were bringing was worth this much – worth its weight in gold, its trade would made the bridgetown shine in the whole kingdom – and possibly in the whole human world. The swords made of that mythical iron had not be battle tested yet, but were deemed to be leagues above their traditional iron or bronze equivalent in terms of durability and sharpness. Swords like this, made of an iron like that would be what will tip the war in the favor of Mong Kima.
The renewed activity, however, caused a substential stress to the elven population. Already irritated by the hardships of life as vagrants in the outskirts of a human settlement, and by the constant workings of the wood furnaces, churning in wood from the neighbouring forest, Alala, an elven looter finally lost his marbles. He walked straight toward the garisson, fist clenched, determined to beat up the first person he would encounter.
And that first person was a man named Om Gulgudrimtil, Spearmaster, one of the best men of Ipan.
Om was taken by surprize, but reacted quickly. Turning around to face his attacker. To his demerit, he did not try to subdue or to scare off his attacker and spear in hand, escalated directly to lethal force. He plunged his iron spear in the belly of the elf, then hit him a couple times with his hands and feet.
The rest of the militia arrived shortly after, called in by the commotion. Commander Totten, first on the scene, joined the fight immediately and wacked the skull of the poor elf with a strike of her decorated silver mace.
Alala was thrown on the ground by the power of the strike. Om stepped over his body and jammed his spear in the poor creature's throat. The stab sectionned the neck completely, sending the head rolling a couple feet.
« There has to be a better way » Tought Ralin, witnessing the gruesome execution.
The princeling arrivesThree days later, a small caravan of the kingdom arrived from the east. It was some eight travellers, whose leader was a very young man of noble blood.
It was princeling Sothro of Thomocemir, second child of Prince Ryukan. Only thirteen years old, Sothro was barely out of childhood, but decided to leave the family fold as soon as he could. The reason – he wanted to become someone important, and to be the second in-line for the succession of his father, after his sister Ini, did not satisfy for the slightest.
Even tho Sothro was raised well by his father to be a model of pearlite virtues, chiefly among which were temperence and humility, Sothro had dreams of glory and self-importance. He knew he had to deserve the story he had written for himself and could not rely on solely his famous upbringing, but he was ready to provide the necessary efforts when he passed the stone portal of Kimaeslo Ori.
A few days to get settled, and he was signed in the militia, to learn invaluable surviving skills while his little suite was given temporary beds and civilian occupation.
Sothro and his companions did not come without a plan however : a few days later, they petitionned Lady Desli for the establishment of a new guild – aimed at promoting and developping craft-related professions. The guild would be called
Vispolsekur « Craftmen's edge » (lit – The Sabre of Creating) and would be officialized two months later.
Month off for the warriorsAs additional arms were needed to transport trade goods in and out of the marketplace, the militia was laid off for the month of october. The arrival of the Nishtiz wagon was, like it was last year, the opportunity for a great feast. People made merry, the tavern was full everyday. Poems and songs were sang, and the elders told the younger generations about the great rules of old around quinoa and spelt beers.
Histamine and her traders negociated every single scrap of metal they could from the dwarves – they managed to trade multiple anvils of dwarven steel and an important mass of tin.
Bronze was still the metal of war – even for the soldiers of Kimaeslo Ori. Dwarven iron was undoubtly the best metal to craft weapons, but it was so hard to acquire that it would have to be – at least for a time – reserved for a select few elite weapons. Most weapons and armor pieces would have to be made of copper and bronze, metals that allowed Thomocemir to repel Osme for more than two decades now.
Battle testing gearThe party subsided as Nishtiz merchants left the bridgetown. They were satisfied – pearlites had not only brought their wares at a high price, but also gave them a lot of trade goods to insure the continuity of their trades for the years to come. As october came to a close and winter was beggining to make itself felt, life slowed down in the settlement.
The last deadline of the year had been met, so the village could now handle its daily tasks at a more relaxed, leisurely pace. Trade goods would still have to be produced, but the next market would only occur in spring. There was still a couple chores to be done – the building that would be given to the Vispolsekur guild had still a story under construction and was still lacking a couple windows and the bridge would still have to be continued, including its palace who needed a lot of work still, but those were not urgent tasks.
The night of the 9 november, vagrants came to report monster sightings in the forest, and as a measure of precaution, a team of soldiers was sent tto investigate.
Among those soldiers was a swordswoman by the name of Sas.
Sas came from a very prestigious warrior bloodline. Her father was lord Ulet of Lemhuhqihu, famous mercenary lord, and her older brother was captain Thratnu of Thomocemir, who trained a whole generation of legendary fighters. This is because of the prestige of her family that she was bestowed one of the first dwarven iron sword – blades of extremely high value.
At this point, neither the sword nor its owner had been tested.
She was stationned a bit before her crew near the forest edge – when she saw a shadow moving swiftly toward the bridge, she decided it was a good time to test them both. Whatever creature it was, she would have to fight and defeat on her own.
Sazs reeled in horror when she discovered her foe was a werebeast – Bax Ngasmasong – one of the spawns from late Lord Cado, that we met earlier in our story. Were-monitor lizard with orange scales such as those who terrorized the subcontinent for decades.
Bax, human from the southern continent, had survived one of Cado's rempages, the 22 of may 118, only to wake up far from society, with an unsatiable hunger and afflicted by the curse of Pasmug.
Since last year, Bax has been roaming around Kimaeslo Ori. Last winter, he even snagged off and eaten an elven vagrant.
Sas jumped on the creature, striking at the arm with her shining blade. For a moment, she felt as if she missed – the blade had gone through the creature's arm without slowing. Only when she realized that her foe was missing an arm and the ground was bright red under the moonlight, she understood what happened. Surprized by the degree of sharpness of her own sword, she redirected her blade swiftly and this time, hit the creature at the abdomen.
The abdomen offered no more resistance than the arm and this time, the whole upper body of the creature detached itself in an explosion of gore.
The legends might be true, Sas thought. The dwarven iron might very well be a miracle metal and the key to the war – and Bax, the weremonitor lizard, shall trouble the kingdom of pearls no more.
Author
Topic: Mong Kima - The Nation of Pearls (DF 0.47.05) (Read 254777 times)