You order part of the weapons to be melted and soldiers to be sent home.
502 AD, Spring
2
A terrible fever and fire in the lungs seizes you!
502 AD, Few days later
3
Your condition refuses to improve, and your healers are starting to worry.
502 AD, Few days afterwards
2
You barely are able to keep track of when it is day and night, the fever causing you to lapse into sleep periods. Whenever you wake up, you see your wife, or the Advisor, or one of the healers tending to you.
502 AD, One week later
4*
"How is the kingdom faring?" You ask the Advisor before a fiery coughing fit overtakes you. The Advisor patiently wait until you are finished.
"There were reports of unrest in the cities downriver. There's apparently this thought coursing in the mind of peasants that your illness and your spending of money on the wedding rather than relieving their pains is a clear sign that you are not meant to rule." You have a coughing fit, which lasts for quite a while.
"Has that been solved?" The Advisor nods.
"I have sent a letter in your name to be read to the unruly populace, and, well, they've calmed down. It should keep them quiet for some time." You dismiss the Advisor when another coughing fit takes you.
502 AD, One week after that
2*
You keep having coughing fits and sleeping well into the noon and eating little, sometimes passing out in middle conversation. Healers are alarmed - is it your body giving up after just 22 years? They're considering the illnesses that might've seized your body and each one they talk about is worse than previous.
You hope they're all wrong.
Congratulations! Cyrus has gained
Sickly negative trait!
502 AD, Few days afterwards
4*
Still having those little coughing fits, and not feeling particularily well on your two feet, you nonetheless leave the bed.
"I have a Kingdom to govern." You grumble to the healers, who let you go. You've been bedridden for almost whole month.
502 AD, Mid-Spring
The bawling of the baby seals the moment a new life is born. The healers let you inside your wife's bedchamber, and there she is, red-faced and tired, holding a crying baby in her hands.
"Your son, your Majesty." The master healer says with a soft smile.
As her priviledge as the mother, she has given him a name - Len, after one of the woodland spirits revered in this part of the region. One day, he will ascend to the throne of Surinthomus.
You hold the child briefly, hoping that he won't have to take upon this duty too soon.
502 AD, Summer
6
The Treasurer is very happy when he presents you the news on woodcutting - and the raising of Mammos.
"First of all - our woodcutters and timber merchants have begun sending the logs downriver on barges and returned with news that settlements of our neighbours are paying well. The tolls on the river passes and harbors we've resumed collecting have brought some revenue to the Treasury."
"And the Mammos?" You ask, before choking on the air briefly, coughing some.
"The younger specimens we captured have matured and began being used to help move heavy things. Some older specimens were killed for fur, tusks and meat, which quickly found buyers. Although this is very little in terms of profits, we've already had some foreigners inquiring about our captive animals."
"How long before this venue brings profit?"
"I have talked with the Druids. In five years time, we should have more than enough Mammos to being separating them into herds, and five years from then, we ought have a surplus big enough to consider selling it to our neighbours if you so desire."
502 AD, Autumn
You bow your beard as the Archdruid comes in for audience.
"Greetings, your Majesty. I have come to deliver urgent news - the spirits of Heaven and Earth do not view you favorably." This revelation causes your councilmen to stir into a murmuring, grumbling crowd, before the Advisor silences them.
"Is it because of the usurpation?"
"Or the capture of Mammos. Or the cutting down of trees. There's a way to please the unseen spirits with visible signs of devotion - reconstructing the Great Stone Circle could be one." The Treasurer has a coughing fit, but the Archdruid simply waits till it passes.
"How do we go about that?"
"Many of the megaliths are missing their capstones, which were once put in their places by the combined might of men and Mammos. Now that you have the Mammos, the Circle could be reconstructed, missing captsones and megaliths replaced, and the surrounding buildings occupied by Druids refurbished." The Treasurer has another coughing fit, and you start to get the point.
A) "No!"
B) "Sure... in a few years' time."
C) "Alright, I shall order the Great Stone Circle to be repaired!"
Author
Topic: SPAMKINGDOM Z-th! King Cyrus of Surinthomus! (Read 18862 times)