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[NUKE9.13]

"Unless my eyes deceive me, we look upon the city of Ertane. Nice place, raided the harbour once, everyone was very professional about it. But Ertane is nowhere near the Todeslande. I can only pray that the world is falling to pieces, and islands are becoming unmoored from the sea floor- for either the island has moved south, or the ancient wards that hem in the beings of decay have failed."

An emissary in a rowboat is sent forth to wait within cannon shot, hopefully in order to convince Steelclaw that nothing of value lies within the walls.

The Icy Maiden drifts to a halt before the rowboat, the timbers groaning in protest at the punishing pace and foul waters she has been subjected to. Steelclaw calls out to the emissary.

"Tell me, is it truly Ertane I see before me?"

[Tack]

The hawkish ambassador calls forth
“Aye, that we are. Some kind of horror blows forth from the todeslande. We’ve dead fish and seaweed fouling our oars. Nought here but hungry refugees and stubborn fools.”

[NUKE9.13]

"My fears are confirmed, then. The wards are broken."

Steelclaw turns to the Messenger.

"Tell me, what do the gods have to say about this? Do you know of anyone who may know how to turn back the darkness?"

"Regardless, we should sail for home. This is no time for fighting mortals; we should set aside iron, and unseal the god-steel vaults- for it is said that the weapons within are set aside for the battle at the end of the world, and it seems to me that that time is now."

(If no one has any better ideas) Set sail for the Mistwood.

The steel-smiths of the Ijzervolk are an elite, secretive group. Lesser smiths may work iron and bronze, but only they may work steel, for it is sacrosanct. But whilst select members of the Ijzervolk may wield steel blades, there is another, even more sacred metal, that no living person may wield. Known as god-steel, each member of the steel-smiths will only ever craft a single piece- inherently so, for to do so costs the smith his life.
When a smith is old, and feels that death grows close, he will retire to his forge, barring the doors, granting none access. For days, if not weeks, he will toil in secret, practicing an art that not even other steel-smiths know, for it is said the knowledge is granted to dying smiths by the gods directly. Eventually, the work is done, and the smith will present the piece to the world- and then complete it, by spilling his own blood across the metal. The smith is given a hero's burial, his family honoured, and the piece locked away in the god-steel vaults, never to be touched by mortal hands, until the final battle at the end of the world.

[Cadeyrn Heffernan]

Okay, if I am correct, we are only missing KittyTac. I'll PM him.

[sprinkled chariot]

Messenger turns to steelclaw : This darkness is sign of end times, my friend. The gods judged this world and found it wanting.

[Cadeyrn Heffernan]

Okay, KittyTac is dropping out, if someone wants the Nekohlin or Flame, they can have them.

[Cadeyrn Heffernan]

Since no one has claimed them, I will control Flame and the Nekohlin until someone claims them.

Goltor
You weave the fabric of reality to create a viewing portion above the wall, and watch one of the pair who appeared, who is covered in plated metal, leap from the wall, wings of light and air sprouting from their shoulders. You recognize the other as the scholar who taught you magic, and you watch as a jet of fire leaps high into the air, struggling to be seen through the land of endless shadows and death that is slowly approaching the wall. An aura of fear pulsates out from this approaching disaster, and the armoured warrior disappears into the impenetrable shadows.

Ka'uratazun
A group of strange, tiny creatures with spindly limbs, and a young air dragon turn to face you- The spindly limbed creatures are carrying small steel spears, and the Dragon bears some ceremonial markings. Oddly, they seem more than willing to fight you- Anything at their size must either have something up their sleeves,
or be tremendously stupid to risk fighting an Elder Dragon.

Lakami and Acid-Maw
The ships sail rapidly across the sea, sped by a good wind, and the enchantments. The enchantments placed against the Evil influence keep the possible effects at bay, as you head towards the source of the malevolence. Your project to protect your homes with the coastal enchantments are going well, although the influence is increasing against unprotected areas.

Lakami
The Lakami expansion, assisted by the inhabited areas being protected is going well, expanding your domain, and bringing lush growth to the deserts. Your secret project is facing many difficulties, as you hit barrier after barrier- It would be far easier to work with the Acid-Maw on this. Your smith comes out of her isolation, bearing a magic crown. She proceeds to kill herself.

Acid-Maw
Your people, somewhat jealous of the Lakami expansion, and somewhat worried about becoming outnumbered by the physically powerful Lakami, begin a similar expansion, although progress is slowed by the lesser support, the smaller size of the Acid-Maw, and faster reproduction allows expansion to match speed with the Lakami's. The weapon smith finishes his work, and presents his chief with a spear of amazing craftsmanship, and apparently great magic power.

Lizzy Kyros
Your wings carry you into the darkness towards the fire, where you see a giant composed entirely of shadows emerge from a massive gout of dragonfire. The source is a young Fire Dragon, covered in a beautiful suit of armour. The giant turns to face you.
"And what do we have here? A foolish knight who sought to face the darkness?"
The giant laughs, and the dragon emits a low, grumbling snarl, like that of a volcano ready to burst- more felt than heard.
"Regardless, my naive knight, no matter what you or this pathetic lizard do, you shall not escape!"

Qassatoughua
You swim to escape from the darkness, and oddly enough find a completely safe area beneath a dozen ships, that are sailing towards Iomeer, they do not seem to come from any seafaring race you know of, although design elements seem to be attempting to emulate the Ijzervolk.

Ertane
The dreaded Steelclaw and his Icy Maiden continue north away from the Todeslande, and towards the Norlands, although his sudden appearance from the Todeslande raises a question amongst many of your scholars- How did he escape the land from which no one has ever escaped?
Whilst questions and rumors begin to run rampant, a small vessel bearing the banner of Iomeer's Imperial Family is sailing towards your harbor, while a smaller ship sails quickly after the Icy Maiden.

Steelclaw, Neriend and The Messenger
The Messenger mumbles something waving his hand over Neriend, and she wakes suddenly, choking on her own blood, gasping for air, and wiping the blood from her eyes. Her breathing is laboured and she is pale. She looks about, but even though her eyes pass over the crew, she doesn't seem to register your presence. One of your crew spots a small boat quickly gaining on the Maiden from behind, as she lopes northward.

[NUKE9.13]

((So, is this boat coming from Ertane, or is it also an Iomeerian vessel?))

[Cadeyrn Heffernan]

((It's not flying any colours))

[NUKE9.13]

"Someone get the lady a drink. Something strong enough to take her mind off of things."

Steelclaw's attention is drawn to the encroaching vessel.

"Well, we're just all sorts of popular today, aren't we? I wish it was always this easy to get people to approach us. I suppose we should see what they want."

Let the vessel approach.

[Tack]

Whilst no wealth exists in the island and food is already being rationed, plans are quickly made to draw up a modest imperial welcome.
It will be insultingly small, but this is wartime and many Ertranian citizens are already grumbling about even having to accept them onto shore.

[piratejoe]

Spoiler: Seems interesting, why not join? (click to show/hide)

Nation Name: Llychlyn
Nation Technology: The Kingdom of Llychlyn has the greatest weapon to ever exist as a crucial part of their culture, the Bow and arrow, although they have a few other weapons, just none as good as the good old bow. They also have the ability to build basic housing and clothing, and have understood how to do agriculture and how to make a fire. In other words, they know how to make all the basic stuff and how to make a good bow.
Location: the most southern tip of the spine of the land mountain, where the forest meets the sea and mountain. Further south then the Acid maw.
Species Description: The people of Llychlyn are commonly called Fanw as the closest thing to a name their species have is Fanw, as they consider themselves children of Fanw, a goddess of hunting, archery and stature that they believe firmly in. They are almost eerily similar to humans, leading some to believe they are related or use to be actual humans, the differences being that they are usually short at 5,2 feet tall, with the tallest among them only being 5,9 and extremely rare. Having wolf like features such as ears, tail, fangs, clawed fingers and toes, and are agile, along with having a naturally good sense of sight, smell as well as hearing. And lastly their language, which can be described confusing at best and almost impossible to say a single sentence properly without years of training at worst. Commonly, most of the people of Llychlyn have black, white, brown or uncommonly red hair in varying shades, but other, much rarer colors exist too. There is also something that most have gained from the time under their unification by the late Queen Ariella, and that simply is a hatred of turncoats, which will draw out their ire like no other, although as one would expect, there are a few exceptions to this.
Background/History: Llychlyn was until recently, a bunch of clans and tribes that relied heavily on the bow and usually weren't too far away from the ocean either. These clans and tribes where very small, but they fought each other and made alliances, and they all worshiped Fanw. However a young hunter named Ariella managed to unite the clans after getting a group of twelve skilled individuals from the varying clans and being given the bow known as Ergydcaled by someone in the sky after they climbed the tallest mountain in Llychlyn territory, at least that's how they claim they got the bow. Most believe the person in the sky who gave it to her is actually Fanw, but if this is true or not is anyone's guess. Though, they had one of their trusted hunters throw it back into the sky recently, where it was caught by a hand from within a cloud due to the nature of why they where given the bow and their unfortunate death. Some skeptical cynics believe they never had such a bow, but they usually keep such thoughts to themselves as speaking of the late Queen is not something looked highly upon, similarly, some believe that Ariella will return one day in Llychlyns darkest hour.

[Cadeyrn Heffernan]

That's good, welcome aboard. Just post an action.

[piratejoe]

It was a calm day like any other in Llychlyn, if a bit somber. The people where still getting to terms over the loss of their old Queen Ariella's death, as she was one the people looked up to. Still, life goes on, and so too would Llychlyn with its new queen. The only child of Ariella, Eheubryd, was still young but old enough to rule, and if there was one trait she shared with her mother it was an interest in learning new things. Eheubryd had already thought of a few things that would make life better for everyone in Llychlyn, one based on a few dreams she had, however, she knew her people might need some better tools to make what she had in mind. For the normal person in Llychlyn, nothing particularly different happened, but for those higher up, especially those wise and intelligent where put to the task of finding a way to make better tools then what they had now.

[AbstractTraitorHero]

A smile curling underneath their helmet. Taking it off for a moment. A mere moment the lines of her face glowing with a fierce light. A grin unafraid not an ounce of fear in her eyes.

Eager.

Excited and ready.

Gently putting their helmet back on and raising the mornninglords symbol high. Green strange wings pulsating with energy and suddenly without fanfare.

Like a bolt from the sky. Focusing their lords blessing into their sword! Intent on piercing through their body for their lord!

The dragon believes it worthy or superior. But the morninglord equalizes and shall judge them inferior and in need of salvation. Bring them to his embrace!

"Oh morning lord! Thou children serve you beautifully! I shall send it to your embrace!