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Chapter Fourteen: Empire of Ruin 1643-1660 Ebenmasser merchantman Golden Steed, docked at Ilzin Mykx Grand Harbour, 1659 Evin stared down at the commotion below him, his hand massaging the handle of his pistol. He did not expect to win a fight if things escalated, but perhaps he could wrangle one of those unruly slaves and ward off the Gnolls with a little show of strength. On the quayside below, two slaves had gotten into a brawl. A Human and an Orc were tearing at each other, apparently over the recognition of being the one to life the gangplank up to the side of the Golden Steed. All around, the other slaves and countless Gnollish sailors were cheering it on, bar the slave master who was yelling and trying to push through crowd of onlookers. It was savagery that Evin hadn't seen since the conquests of the Expanse, in skirmishes with the barbaric Ynnic tribes that roamed the plains. Give him a lasso and a steed, a proper one and not this hulking lump of wood they'd purchased from West Tipney, and he was confident he could run rings around any this mass and herd them into usefulness. A whoop went up from the crowd as the Human tipped the Orc into the water, snatching a pouch from the larger slave's belt before he tumbled. The Human immediately took a big sniff of the contents of the bag, and then with strength that Evin did not imagine a Human naturally had, picked up the gangplank and set it against the ship. Satisfied, the Human slave wore a smile so large it looked like his face was about to tear apart, even as the slave master delivered a series of blows to drive him back into the rest of the slave crew. "Colonel Dustcoaster," a sharp voice called out, over the commotion. Almost immediately the yapping sailors quieted and went back to whatever their business was. The crowd parted and a finely dressed Gnoll walked up to the ship. She wore a tunic made of different fabrics, which had been stitched together by someone with a good eye for colour and material matching. No doubt each fabric came from a different looted outfit. Gold and gems adorned her arms, belt, and neck, but not to such an overwhelming degree as Evin had seen from other Gnolls in the past. Her cap was identical to the headwear of the other Gnollish warriors marching up behind her, though hers had a golden mount that held a viridescent feather of some exotic bird. Evin supposed that marked her out as the commander he was supposed to meet. "Major Shredspear," Evin said. He tipped his wide-brimmed hat to her, and began to descend onto the dock. "Sersa, if you would like," she replied, before stepping aside to let Evin walk besides her. Behind them, Evin's own soldiers descended from the ship, some carrying a heavy crate between and the rest very carefully watching the Gnolls and slaves surrounding them. They had been promised safe return, and over the past few years Arkez had managed to smack some diplomacy into his sailors meaning traders (with paid protection dues) and aligned military vessels were actually finding safe harbour at Mykxic ports. However, even if the Gnollish marines escorting them to meet the Grand Admiral could stay in line, there were still thousands more who'd made no such promises. "Impressive, right?" Sersa asked, bumping his shoulder with her elbow. Evin hadn't been paying too much attention to his greater surroundings, but with properly disciplined Gnolls at his front and his men at his back he had a bit more leeway to do so. Very few made it back from Ilzin Mykx with their lives, so tales and descriptions of the Gnollish capital were decades or even centuries out of date. The oldest stories spoke of a ramshackle assembly of wood that only barely functioned and frequently claimed the lives of unfortunate slaves, where ships moored up wherever they could find space and barfights regularly spilled out onto the docks and decks. The Grand Harbour, in the present day, was very different from the stories. The entire vast bay had been filled with an intricate collection of docks that seemed impossible to navigate but surely had some alien logic to them as the Golden Steed had made it most of the way in. Vessels of all sizes rested at these docks, almost all unloading plunder or supplies to go to the population of the island. Larger vessels could be found closer to the shore, where stone quays jutted out and supported massive gantry cranes, while smaller vessels found a place in the network of wooden docks that filled the rest of the bay. "If there's an emergency, the Scourge Fleet can call on demonic winds and smash through the outer docks," Sersa said, having followed his eye line, "some of the walkways have been built deliberately weak." "What about the ships docked there?" Evin asked aloud, though he knew the answer. "They can clear out or be smashed," she replied, a grin round her snout. Their group made their way off the quay and onto the shore. It had once been a beach, but a century and a half of slave labour had filled it in with stone structures that as tall as any Evin had seen on the way out of Trollsbay. Though crowded together and probably not checked for structural stability, the offices, sailor and marine barracks, and warehouses of the shore were not what made it dangerous. That was caused by the sheer mass of people moving around. Gnolls and slaves went about their work, wide-eyed and sniffling, ready to start a fight at a moment's notice. Evin had seen the effects of Demon's Blood, particularly on the savages of the Expanse, and was almost glad that it addled the Gnolls as much as it addled the degenerated Elves. Packs of freemen moved around as well, all races besides Gnolls banding together to keep from being picked off and clapped in chains again by some enterprising Gnoll. He was curious of their stories, but he had other work to do. "How goes the war effort?" he asked. To look at the masses around him, he wouldn't have been able to tell that battles raged around the Ruined Sea. Just crossing from Trollsbay had been terrifying, fearing that an enemy vessel would come barrelling out of the mists and try to impress them into service. It had been more of a fear than the pirates themselves. "The seas are clear," Sersa said. She tapped a claw against a golden bracelet on her arm. "Took this from an enemy captain myself." Evin didn't want to ask what she had done with rest of him. She continued, nodding back at the crate being carried along behind them, "your tribute is appreciated. We must all pull together to resist Cannor." It was true, Mykxic protection fees were actually cheaper than the tolls that the likes of Lorent would install if they claimed monopolic dominance of Aelantir. The Gnolls might burn down a coastal town or two hundred, but in the landlocked Expanse their touch was only felt when merchants raised their prices in response to protection fees, or Demon's Blood filtered up the Ynn. If Lorent ruled, everyone would answer to a distant king. The way of life he and his people had built would be overwhelmed. It felt strange that their defence had fallen to a band of monsters, but they were leaning some decorum and could be polite and reasonable when the situation called for it. Passing from the shore, they arrived at a plaza where a massive statue had been constructed. Carved from fine marble, though Evin had no idea about how the Gnolls might have come such a large block on the seas, and inlaid with all sorts of precious gems and metals, it depicted a female Gnoll standing tall and reaching for the distance. Her other hand held some, very real, freshly severed heads of various races, including Gnolls. Perhaps those who tried to steal from the statue. It was clearly the nation's founder, Mykx herself. "Thank the Scourgemother, most blessed of Xhazob," Sersa said, mostly to herself, as they passed the statue. "I haven't heard her called that before," Evin said. He could feel himself stepping into a diplomatic faux pas, but continued anyway. "Is that her title now? I thought you were always led by an Admiral?" Sersa looked back at him with a deep black eye and just gave a subtle grin, before continuing their march to meet the ruler of the Scourge Empire. Excerpts from the journal of Arkez 'the Deadly', Grand Admiral of Mykx  If we are to claim the islands, we need the capability to strike back at Cannor directly. I have assembled the Scourge Fleet at Pirendral and ordered a massive expansion of the army, especially the marines. This force will launch a dedicated assault on Cannor, to show them that they are not safe from us in their homes across the ocean.  While my captains and I are away campaigning in distant oceans, we need the Kult to maintain order at home. The proliferation of Demon's Blood throughout the population has proven incredibly effective at erasing the weak faiths that they once followed, replacing them with prayers to the host. With the establishment of Blood Cathedrals, even the largest and most stubborn populations can be moved into worship and sacrifice. Between this and religious ideas we can finally convert things at a decent clip, even without the Kult faction in power. The bonus tax is also a good bump for our Demon's Blood ports.  The Blood Bringers are also becoming an institution, as more and more of our economy is built on exporting Demon's Blood. They are being granted increased privileges across the nation, which works for me as the flow of more powder means more gold in the national hoard. I am comfortable that I am shrewd enough to avoid any of their more obvious schemes to extract money into their own hands.  Their interest is in the ports to the South East of the Leechdens, which will give us access to the Markets in the southern reaches. With the Busilari fleet easily crushed, the portion of the army not assigned to the invasion of Cannor has been dispatched to claim these ports.  Invading across continents is a difficult task. Our campaign began well, with the marines landing in the port of Eborthíl and securing it for our landing, while we delivered a devastating defeat to the Busilar by capturing the Edronias. All that we needed to do was finish securing a landing point, and then we could unload the bulk of our army. However, it quickly became clear that the Busilari knew what we were planning and stationed a significant force in Toref Citadel, which came to reclaim the port before we could land. And this shows what happens when you don't just sink, but actually manage to capture, a flagship. A really nice chunk of change.  Even with hellfire from Mother Mykx raining down on the attackers, our marines were pushed out of the city. I had clearly underestimated our enemies.  However, for the moment, we gave them peace. Even if we could not land, we could still terrorize their shores. After a few months of that, Busilar was willing to give up the ports we desired and pay tribute. As we limped back to Aelantir, heavy with treasure but also heavy with disappointment, I promised the Fleet that we would return once more, in glory.  First, we need an army to match what Cannor can bring to bear against us. The discipline instilled into the marines will be extended to all soldiers. Those who distinguish themselves in battle will rise up the ranks and earn ever more fame and fortune from the state. Knowing that they are fighting for more than just immediate personal glory will drive Gnollish warriors to greater heights.  Secondly, we need the money to fund it. Qathcel on Pirendral has become our primary exporter of Demon's Blood to Cannor. With Lorent and Busilar's fleets crushed for the moment, it is easy for our smugglers to reach as far as the Dameshead. While this won't last, for the moment it is funding our military expansion by itself. The fourth and final tier of Demon's Blood ports  And finally, we need to unite Mykx under Xhazob's greedy gaze. Through holy violence and psychedelic addiction, slaves are made to justify their own imprisonment, while the restless and unsettled lower classes are kept complacent by the promise of a great celebratory pyre at the end of each week.  The nations on the mainland of Aelantir are developing more intensive economies, which is only better for our raiders. No longer are they seizing cargo holds full of basic materials, but more often processed and finished goods. We have fewer such manufactories established around our territory, so I have ordered some more to be developed, particularly in our Demon's Blood producing regions. If the landlubbers can scale up their production, so can we.  I have slipped into this role far better than I expected. I am not drawn into the bloodlust of battle, nor willing to lose myself in the depths of worship, nor be tricked by the cunning scams of the Blood Bringers. Instead, I might be able to elevate us a step beyond what we have built so far and create something that Mykx would truly be proud of.  The remaining independent nations of the Ruined Sea need to understand that we are both their protectors, and if they dare to resist any further, their demise. Neratica supported Lorent in their last attack, so securing their loyalty by the sword will ensure the defence of the Bone Citadel. This, and a couple of other minor wars I didn't note, were primarily to farm prestige, in order to…  We are not just a Scourge Fleet; we are a Pirate Empire that will reach across the world. And I have the power to make that a reality. The Mother Mykx is speaking to me, telling me that her nation needs strength in its leadership. It needs more than a Grand Admiral; it needs a Father or a Mother. Not just for the Gnolls within our borders, but also for those who have fallen under the spell of the 'just' and 'holy' gods of Cannor and Bulwar. The Scourge Empire of Mykx, led by its Scourgefather, will terrorize every sea.  We will not just be for Gnolls, any one may participate so long as they understand that blood and gold rule the world. If they fall into chains, then they were simply too weak, but if they have the strength and cunning to survive then we will elevate that. With the Kult and Blood Bringers bringing demonic insight to all our citizens slaves, as well as countless more abroad, our ways will be open to all.  Finally, after being distracted by wars with Cannor, we have secured a port on the south-eastern edge of the Ruined Sea, giving us a proper trade connection to our new harbours in South Aelantir. We have access to almost all the markets in Aelantir now, but the native civilizations in Eordand and Kheionai remain stubbornly resistant to our powdered goods. The captains are drawing up plans to secure proper trading ports in those regions.  Claiming the title of hegemon of Aelantir is meaningless if all the other nations fight against us on instinct. We need them alive, to run the economies that we plunder from and to supply the population who consume our drugs. Being able to normalize relations and establish proper protection rackets even after we have seized their ports will help stabilize our empire. The process of demonsterization puts you on a 100-point scale that you need to drop to zero. Making use of monster mechanics, like the CB, increases the number while regular events reduce the number.  This means putting a lid on some of the worst excesses of my captains, as much as it goes against what we stand for. For example, recently I ordered the release of a crew of pirate hunters who had been captured after harassing our vessels in Kheionai. They were stripped of their ship and valuables, but kept their lives and freedom. It demonstrates that we can be negotiated with, they have the option to pay rather than fight. A typical event. Number goes down, in exchange for some cost and some benefit, with the other option being number goes up.  The colonialists have been fading away as the available land with the islands is bought up by retired pirates flush with loot or Blood Bringer merchants settling down with a plantation full of slaves. All of Aelantir is claimed or settled, so the effort that would have gone into taking the land for ourselves is now going into opening up markets further abroad.  Lorentish troops crossed from New Kyliande into Ozgarom. They think that bypassing the fleet will give them victory, but the army has doubled in size since the last war. Whatever troops they have stationed will not survive in a jungle haunted by demon-fuelled Orcs and ferocious Gnolls. If they attack our vassal, we don't get the option to use Hellfire. However, I think the Fleet is more than capable of handling things without it.  War is one area where I will not show compromise to those who oppose us. Our savagery defines our battles, and I would never want that to change even if the technology we wield advances. Sometimes taking the monstrous option is gives a nice bonus, even if it will slow down your progress overall.  The Cannorian fleets continue to pose no threat. With Admiral Vazga guarding the Noruin coast and Calamity Pass with the Gate Fleet and myself aboard the Mother Mykx hunting fleets across the Ruined Sea and even striking out beyond, they are systematically taken apart and their vessels repurposed to swell our numbers. In some cases, we even let the crews live and have their vessels scrapped at the nearest shipyard to bolster and repair our own, while they themselves are ransomed back at a premium. Fun fact, I am upgrading my fleet by steadily switching out old obsolete vessels with captured modern vessels. A nice little money saver.  Reforms continue to bring our militaries up to standard with Cannor. Gnolls don't like to be stuffed into a uniform, but we do allow them some chance to customize, whether than be jewellery looted from a raided town, or a trophy taken from a slain enemy solider. More seriously, we are adopting more of the rank hierarchy seen in Cannorian navies. Ranks are a little more fluid, as a weak commander will be supplanted by their subordinates, but that means the strongest rise to the top where they should be.  Our plunder of the Lorentish navy itself is proving valuable. Our tropical islands do not have wood of the same quality as the temperate mainland, and what we do have is at risk of being clear-cut to fuel the needs of the Fleet and Blood Bringer smugglers. I have implemented a reward system for those who bring back enemy vessels intact, which gets added on top of the rewards they receive for coating themselves and the wooden deck in the blood of those crew who dare resist.  Ozgarom has proven to be an impossible nut for Lorent to crack. When faced with our ferocity, they could only retreat. They think that by bringing more guns they can overwhelm us, but when their line buckled under the power of our troops' hand cannons those guns just weighed them down and led them to be slaughtered.  The marines also demonstrated their own strength as they hopped from port to port, defeating each and every attempt by Lorent to pick at the edges of our domain. With our largest holdings guarded by the army, the Fleet guarding the seas and the marines holding the mobility to strike anywhere, there is nothing Lorent can do against us. However, without a proper base in Cannor we cannot yet strike back.  As we normalize our relations with other nations, we have to make clear that our nation is built on the ruins of the ones that came before us. Ruins that we made ourselves. That is the way of things. It is not monstrous, or intended as an insult. Those under our protection need only pay the toll to avoid it, while our enemies burn and are torn down piece by piece. We finally get razing back. It's been a long while, but as long as we keep conquering our mana problems will be over.  The nations of Aelantir are more comfortable paying their tribute to us than kneeling to a king across the ocean. Ebenmas and West Tipney, two of the larger nations established on the Ynn Plateau, have sponsored the war effort against Lorent. Opening up diplomacy is already starting to pay.  With our repeated victories against the Lorentish fleet, we are indisputably the largest and most skilled navy in the world. Aelantir is nearly secure. After that, the seas of the world will feel the scourge of Mykx. Finally, a second idea group complete. For completing, we get to do naval barrages for free and can unlock a policy.  Lorent was unable to hold onto its territory, allowing us to expand our control of the islands facing Cannor, and integrate more of Soruin into our Orcish subjects. As promised, the cities and warehouses of the seized land were broken open and the resources within dragged back to Ilzin Mykx to be presented to me, the Scourgefather. When these ruins are once again built upon, it will be as bases for the Scourge Fleet to reach out across the oceans.  I cannot claim all the credit for our strength. The Kult still grows, and all the across the nation the names of Xhazob and his host are spoken with reverence. Our slaves revel in their chains, cheering as their souls are burnt up and sent to Xhazob. Those who do not attend the pyres earn the eye of inquisition upon them. Meanwhile, the Blood Bringers work to keep Demon's Blood flowing through the veins of the nation and its people, as well as millions more abroad. Mykx' dream of the Scourge-of-all-Seas is within reach. Finishing Mykxic ideas gives us +1 blockade bonus to siege. Between this and completing naval ideas, coastal forts are trivial to take. To be continued… Coming up next, a State of the World Interlude
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Aug 5, 2023 18:01
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Looking forward to taking the islands that we once left behind.
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Aug 6, 2023 16:55
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Interlude: State of the World 1660 Excerpts from Anear and Afar, A World to Ravage, published in Ilzin Mykx, 1660 An enterprising pirate, such as yourself, ought to seek out both riches and weakness. The world is filled with those complacent and decadent in their wealth, but it is also filled with dangers beyond the imagination of those who haven't left the waters of the Ruined Sea. Follow our guide, and understand the state of the world today.  North Aelantir, held tightly in the Scourgefather's grip. The Trollsbay Concord is long dead, having been absorbed by Lorent and Ynnic invaders. Their trade routes are hotly competed by privateers, but are also a safe place for a young sailor to earn their first trophies. Further afield, Haraf and Eordand are unified under single major powers, though they are steadily falling under the grip of Demon's Blood. Raiding fleets occasionally pass through these areas, but they are left alone besides. This may change, if the Scourgefather's plans come to fruition. Inland, the Ynn Plateau is dominated by Cannorian settlers who have conquered the native empires of the region, though this is beyond the reach of the Scourge Fleet.  The south can be divided into four clearly distinct parts. The north is firmly Xhazob's territory, including the Demon's Blood manufactories in the Leechdens, the blood jungles ruled by demonic orcs in the north, and the major western export port on Vanburia. To both the east and the west, Cannorian colonies compete and suffer under regular raids. These sea routes are more often quiet as the colonial enterprises are protected by their motherlands, but that just means opportunity. Finally, the southernmost regions are held by Ruinborn. These wealthy shielded cities are regularly ravaged by our pirate fleets, but unlike Trollsbay they have managed to maintain their independence. Similar to Eordand, there are plans in motion to begin rotting these powerful nations from within.  Two forces dominate Cannor. The Kingdom of Lorent, and the Empire of Anbennar. The Regent Court schism divides them, with Adean dominating Lorent and Corin worshipped throughout the Empire. In between, the Ravelians struggle for relevance. These waters are heavily patrolled, but incredibly wealthy. Taking privateering contracts for one side against the other may be the solution to secure treasure for yourself.  Further inland in Cannor, in the lands of Escann that are out of our reach, the Corintide Orcs dominate. The Dwarves of the mountains have reclaimed most of their ancient empire, as well as significant parts of the frozen north, all ruled from 'the Observatory'.  There are dwarves who pose a much greater threat. From the west mountains a dark invasion has poured out and conquered significant chunks of the Deepwoods and Bulwar. The nations of Bulwar, having outlasted the Jadd Empire, now face annihilation from a different direction. Beware the Obsidian Dwarves. They are as brutal and relentless as we are, and they have begun to take to the sea and spare no quarter for pirates.  Sarhal is divided between the ascendant Fangaula, who rule most of our once-homeland, and the Jadd Empire which advanced deep into the continent before losing repeated wars. The coast is occupied by a number of petty kingdoms and Cannorian colonies that serve as stopping points for traders travelling to Haless. If a safe harbour can be found, these waters could prove very fruitful plunder.  The mysterious lands of Rahen and Haless, filled with powerful empires and exotic goods that are richly desired by the nations of the west. The Scourgefather has offered a great reward to any sailor who charts the coastline of Haless for vulnerable ports to seize and who can extend our reach to these untouched treasures.  If you seek to claim territory beyond the Ruined Sea, aim to claim islands or isolated coastal fortifications. The landlubbers do not appreciate our presence, and while our warriors are fierce, they can be defeated by sheer numbers. Lorent in particular has shown a keen interest in scouring us from the face of Halann, and our victories over them have been guaranteed by their inability to bring their vast armies to bear.  And the reason they cannot bring their numbers to bear is the relentless hard work of the Scourge Fleet. Larger and stronger than any other navy in the world, we are the undisputed rulers of the sea. As we extend our reach out across oceans, the dream of hegemony draws ever closer.  We should be rightfully be considered one of the Great Powers of the world, but that merely means we are being underestimated. Go forth, and show the world what it means to live in Xhazob's shadow! To be continued…
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Aug 7, 2023 09:22
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God, being sent to Aelantir in this world must be a terrifying prospect. Even aside from all the usual dangers of being on a frontier, there's also a devil-worshiping thalassocracy getting everyone addicted to coke that eats your soul that seemingly no one can beat. That's a very scary Lorent, too. And I think this is the first time I've seen an ascendant Obsidian Legion. Definitely a version of Anbennar I wouldn't want to live in. It is fun to see the development of the gnolls over time, though.
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Aug 8, 2023 09:48
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Chapter Fifteen: Strike Homewards 1660-1676 Fifty miles inland of Gnollakan Harbour, Sarhal, 1665 Desert heat pulsed across Seilzu's body, the measly breeze barely shifting the unrelenting gaze of the sun. She shifted her cloak to try and keep off the sun, only for it to get knocked out of position by the lope of her war hyena. The rest of the party had it worse, having to walk on foot, with the Human porter slaves they had picked up when they had landed dropping of dehydration in increasing numbers. None of the warriors wanted to carry their own baggage in the heat, so they grudgingly shared their water with the slaves. "Should we turn back?" Ac, her lieutenant, asked of her, as they followed the trail up yet another sand-blasted hillside. He padded along beside her, panting heavily but otherwise keeping his discipline better than the other grumbling warriors in her unit. "Orders are orders," Seilzu replied, "and this is our homeland. We crawled out of Pits of Grillax somewhere out there." She pointed out to the east, across thousands more miles of desolate desert, towards the mythical homeland of Gnolls and entrance to hell. In her mind, crossing a desert was a natural thing for a Gnoll to do. Bulwar, Kheterata, Akan, these lands had all fallen at the hands of Gnolls willing to suffer a little a little heat. A mission to seek out frontier towns to establish garrisons was nothing compared to that. Shifting her cloak again, she pulled out the map she had purloined from a local merchant. It was not as intricate as the oceanic maps that the navigators produced back in Mykx, but it served its purpose. It was marked out in estimated journey lengths between the sparse villages of the region, whether on foot, on horseback, or in a caravan. By her estimate, they should have already reached the next village, but they were slowed down because her Gnolls likely hadn't seen such a large expanse of land in their lives. "We could seek shelter," she said, after a moment's more thought. The sun continued to beat down, and with midday approaching it might be better to take a break. At the top of this hill, she would take stock and come to a decision. As her mount crested the top of the ridge, the solution emerged even sooner than she had expected. The trail turned, leading down towards a splash of green tucked away in the next valley. An oasis or river, hidden from view. Either that was her target, or, if not, they could pillage it of fresh food, fresh water, and fresh porters before continuing. Gnoll and slave turned with the trail and made their way towards the oasis village. The village was, for the most part, nothing special, a collection of simple clay brick huts and straw roofs assembled close to a bubbling blue stream that arose from a cave in the hillside. One feature dominated the town though, that being a stone building in clear Cannorian style, twice as tall as any other structure with a steeple from which hung a flag bearing the symbol of a sword on a red backdrop. Followers of Corin, the Human. Seilzu watched carefully as the locals emerged from their dwellings to watch her unit approach. Short and thin, it took her a moment to recognize them as Gnolls and not just especially furry Humans. It was like looking at the weaklings and failures that skittered and scrounged for survival in the shadows of Ilzin Mykx, Gnolls who were just not able to make it against their stronger brethren. Just what had Corin done to these creatures? "Have they taken your voices too?!" she called out as her hyena padded past the buildings, "speak up, and identify your pack leader!" One of the Gnolls started to talk, but her Gnollish was either very rusty or bore an accent that was almost indecipherable for Seilzu. Instead, Seilzu fixed her eyes on the Gnoll who had spoken, the intensity of her gaze overwhelming the whelp until she broke and babbled an apology in Common while pointing at the Corinite temple. Seilzu offered her a big toothy grin, which just sent the local scurrying back into her home. As they approached the temple, the ornate wooden doors, probably more valuable by themselves than any individual building in the village, swung open and a Gnoll of proper stature emerged. He was dressed like a Cannorian knight, though with more leather than plate or mail considering the desert heat. A cloak in Corinite colours wrapped around him, and he had a longsword held in one hand. "I am Briar, devout of Corin and priest for this village," he said, entirely in Common, after stopping in front of Seilzu's mount. "Captain Seilzu, Mykx' Marines," Seilzu replied. She leaned forward and rested her arms on her hyena's head, earning a growl. "So, you really do worship a human." "And you still follow the old ways," Briar said, "why don't you return the ruin you built for yourself." "Do you think Corin will protect you?" Seilzu asked, pushing her mount forward, step by step, until its slavering mouth was within a foot of the deluded knight. "As long as I fight against darkness and tyranny, I will always be protected," he replied. The hyena growled louder to the point its body started to rumble underneath Seilzu, and she debated whether letting it loose to just bite Briar's head off. Then, before she came to a decision, he grabbed it by the jaw and drove his sword under its chin and straight up through its skull. Seilzu tipped backwards, the top of blade just narrowly missing her paws, and hopped off her mount as it thrashed out its death throes. Behind her, the sounds of drawn steel came from the rest of her unit. Two dozen more Gnollish warriors ready to fight. However, Seilzu was not going to order everyone to pile on. That could get a lot of her warriors killed or maimed. She dusted herself off from her landing and motioned for Ac to approach Briar from one side, while she circled around the other. "That was brutal, worth of Gnoll," she said, watching Briar carefully as he withdrew his sword and wiped it on his cloak. The shade of red was very convenient colour for such violence. "I can see the state of your slaves," he said, "negotiation was always going to fail. I would always fight for their freedom. You would always try to induct me into your infernal cult." "You're halfway there," Seilzu said, "bloodlust in the name of justice is still bloodlust." To his credit, Briar didn't rise to the bait. He backed up, keeping both Seilzu and Ac in view. After a few moments more, Seilzu decided it was time to punish him for forcing her to walk home, and gestured for Ac to attack. With a howl of anticipation, Ac dropped to all fours and bounded straight at Briar. Green mucus streamed from his nose and mouth, and all sense of reason had left him as he had embraced the Blood's power. Briar swung, attempting to cleave the charging Gnoll in two, but Ac twisted and flung himself to his feet with supernatural agility, before drawing his own wickedly curved blade and launching into a frenzied series of blows that would break the guard of a mere Human or Elf. Briar withstood it, remaining calm and moving his longsword with as much speed and precision as Seilzu had seen from anyone. He turned, keeping her in view while still duelling his opponent. Then, Seilzu drew her pistol in a smooth motion and shot him in the face. Ac, panting, looked back at her for a moment. She glared back at him, daring him to try and complain about kill thievery, until he backed down and began looting the corpse. "Tear down Corin's flag!" Seilzu called out to the rest of her unit, "then build a pyre and distribute Demon's Blood to the locals. Let's show them how Gnolls are meant to live!" Exceprts from the journal of Izz Ridgeborn, Admiral of the Scourge Fleet  My first combat as a captain of the Scourge Fleet was under Admiral Vazga, during the Ravage of Ormam. The priests cursed our cannons as the Fleet descended into the windswept islands of Kheionai, and our marines took their rations of Demon's Blood to draw themselves closer to Xhazob. The goal, passed down from the Scourgefather, was to secure a port on the main island to distribute Demon's Blood among the wealthy shielded cities.  With half of our warriors and half of the Scourge Fleet on the opposite end of Aelantir, Cannorians from Istralore and Moonhaven struck at our eastern holdings. The Scourgefather personally led the defence at the head of the Gate Fleet, deploying the marines to strike at the Istralorean islands, and even raiding their holdings on the Sarhal coast.  In our battles against the Kheionai fleets, we had to follow many new frustrating regulations regarding the ransoming of prisoners and seizure of lands and treasure. I am not one to risk Xhazob's anger, so I ensured that at least some of our captives made their way onto the makeshift pyres in our pirate havens in the region. I do not know why the Scourgefather seeks the approval of the feeble and compassionate nations of the world, but I have to trust his plan.  Tales of his prowess reached us from across Aelantir, including the capture of multiple enemy flagships. The enemies of our enemies were happy to pay a ransom for the victory, not to mention the countless treasures that the Cannorians keep on their prized ships. Capturing flagships is one of the single most profitable things in the game, perhaps to a broken level. They single-handedly keep my economy afloat during these war years.  The two Kheionai nations had too many soldiers between them for a direct assault on their island, so I led a mission to lure them out by striking at their holdings on the mainland. When they crossed, we landed with our marines to close the passage behind them. Their homeland was entirely open to be plundered.  Admiral Vazga joined us in the final assault on Ormam, where one of the Ruinborn struck her down with a lucky shot. Her body was burnt in a pyre along with every captured defender of the city. I do not know if the Scourgefather would approve of making such an example, given his goals, but I know that her soul will be satisfied before it is devoured. I have been made Admiral by the vote of the other captains in the Fleet. Vazga was being groomed to become Scourgemother, so I have vast boots to fill.  Now in command, I watched our troops rampage through the city, its shields shattered by the fires of Pits spewed by our cannons. After three days and nights of pillaging in honour of Vazga, I ordered them to cease, or face punishment. The Scourgefather's goal was a port for the distribution of Demon's Blood. Leaving it intact would spread corruption more than burning it to the ground.  Our forces, fat with plunder and hungry for more battle, returned to the Ruined Sea in time to lift a siege of the Bone Citadel. The Scourgefather had guarded the seas, but had not been able to do much against the Cannorian colonies. That was about to change.  We also returned to concerning news from the east. The island of Endralliande, outside of our enclaves, had fallen to Lorent, along with most of the Reverian homeland. Reactions were mixed. Most of us are too young to remember the days when Reveria was our greatest foe, but there remains the desire to be the ones to finish off those who had once crossed us. With one less foe in Aelantir, the pressure on us from Lorent was likely to increase.  Though the Scourgefather was also disappointed by Vazga's death, he showed great interest in my skills. I was given a personal task by him, taking a small force of marines to our easternmost holdings. On the way, the Scourge Fleet intercepted a massive combined Istralorean and Moonhavener force, which I decisively crushed despite being outnumbered four-to-one in number of ships. Our counterattack had begun, and the host blessed our sails as we set out over the ocean.  Before we departed, I met the Scourgefather in person for the first time. He was shorter than expected, and much calmer and more considered than the ideal of him swinging aboard a Cannorian flagship and personally killing their admiral. Despite that, he presented an image of confidence and righteousness that we are destined to rules the world's seas. His words were backed by the whispers in my mind, the cry of the demons that bubbles up whenever I partake in their blood. The other captains and I were inspired to pursue our Xhazob-granted mission by any means necessary.  Our brief stop also made clear that things were not perfect within the Scourge Empire of Mykx. The Kult and Blood Bringers are backing the Scourgefather to the hilt, but there are countless minor pirates, smugglers and landowners whose livelihoods have been wrecked by back-to-back wars with Cannor. As the Scourgefather centralize authority onto himself, it is increasingly likely that we will face rebellions not just from our slaves but also from the most disgruntled members of our society. I say, let them come.  My concern lay overseas. With our forces, we took an Istralorean port on the coast of Sarhal, just south of Viakkoc itself. For the first time in a century, servants of Xhazob hold land within reach of the Divenhal. Our path to liberating those fallen under the sway of the Human goddess is open.  With the war over and new export ports secure, the Scourgefather turned to the 'Blood and Gold Initiative' proposed by the Blood Bringers. As we reach out and seize more of the vital ports and river estuaries, no inch of Aelantir will be out of reach of the oozing blood of Xhazob. Imagine it extends even further down… We don't actually need all of these ports, just one in each trade node, but it is quite the list of claims.  In the Grand Harbour, moorings were established at the entrance to the bay where the seized flagships of Moonhaven and Istralore were docked. The skull and bones flag of Mykx flew above the desecrated flags of their homelands, as a demonstration of what befalls those who cross us. Sadly, the Busilari flagship we captured earlier was lost on the voyage back home. By the end of this update, we are up to six flagships in the trophy fleet.  Even at peace, the Scourgefather does not rest. He is working to push through reforms that will formalize the ascension of a new Scourgefather or Mother upon the death of old. The days of designated successors, infighting among the factions, and exile for the losers will be put behind us and a council of representatives of the Fleet, Kult, and Blood Bringers will select our new leader. This is kind of irrelevant with the Pirate King reform, but getting a discount to stability increases is nice.  He has also formally integrated the Blood Bringer and Kult administrators into the government. Many are concerned about the potential for this position to be exploited, but I trust that their interests will align with the Fleet, those being spreading and harvesting the profit of Demon's Blood, and ensuring we have a steady flow of sacrifices to feed Xhazob's maw. Some very nice benefits, but also more corruption. This means the pay-down-corruption slider needs to sit at 35% just to break even.  The Fleet has not been abandoned, as he has placed a great deal of investment of our war treasure into bolstering us as well. The Naval Academy now has mandatory swimming lessons for officers, and every new sailor is forced to learn to swim before they can leave port, even if it means tossing them into the harbour the day before the ship gets underway. The sight of Gnolls weighed down by their soaked fur and armour sinking into Xhazob's embrace is a delightful one, but they would better serve the fleet living to fight another day.  And then of course there is investment in the dockyards around our territory. Always a worthy investment to see Scourge Fleet grow to ever greater numbers. Here's a showing of the missions so far after that long string of completions.  Finally, he has also been working on a rework of the regulations around piracy that have been in place since the nation was founded. Much of it was formalizing arrangements that have been in place for decades, especially as our network of protection rackets grows and Demon's Blood infiltrates every aspect of our work. Piracy for a more modern age. I cheated to skip Trollsbay Export as I'd blocked that mission by putting a trading post in the wrong place, as mentioned earlier. This mission varies depending on which faction is in charge in the nation when you complete it. The buccaneers make missions cost less sailors, the smugglers give trade efficiency. Also, a little peek into upcoming missions.  The Cannorians once again aggress against us while we are striving to build a stronger nation. I have been deployed to Soruin, to support our forces targeting Lorent on the mainland and seize harbours that would be usable as export ports.  Our primary target, the Amadia region. The exiles of Eborthíl have significant holdings here, but first we need to break through the Lorentish armies stationed across the Cliffs of Ruin. While I patrolled the seas, our Gnolls and Orcs drove through the jungle that clambers over the cliffs and destroy our foes. I just noticed our new uniforms. Nice and garish.  The opposite news came from Endralliande, where Lorent pre-emptively landed a force larger than our entire army. However, that merely means they have trapped themselves there. Sixty thousand soldiers are now out of the picture, through the sacrifice of our garrisons and the power of the Fleet.  It was not long before a port was secured, with Eborthíl giving up a location for us to spread our corruption up the rivers of the region. The war against Lorent continues, but the war in South Aelantir has swung completely in our favour.  The latest news, as I sail for the northern front, has left me speechless. The Scourgefather has passed, killed in battle against Lorent. The electoral council has agreed to make me Scourgemother, with my victories in Kheionai and Amadia, as well as my devotion to the demonic host, all counting in my favour. I have sacrificed all my personal slaves to give us swift winds back to Ilzin Mykx so I can meet the leaders of the factions and put them to the task of running the nation. I'm a commander, not a ruler. How can I be the mother of the nation?  I am already beset by disaster. The dissenters among the colonialists and minor crews presented their demands for more autonomy and lower tax burdens just as I arrived at Ilzin Mykx, no doubt planned to take advantage of the change in leadership. Though I might not know how to rule, I do know how to lead. Their demands were firmly rejected, and I ordered the council to begin cracking down on the dissent before it could threaten the war effort.  However, the petitioners had a backup plan. The harbour boiled with crews loyal to their cause, and they attempted to storm the Inner District. Unfortunately for them, I had been in the process of escorting our forces to Noruin when the news arrived, so it was trivial to redirect forces to crush the uprising. Any captured traitors were sent to Graxarr, with the ringleaders keelhauled or strapped to the hull of the vessels, and the rest thrown onto the Everpyre. Word is already spreading causing outrage among the outlying colonies, but I have no qualms about putting down those who threaten my authority.  Before I can bring the nation to heel, we need to end the war with Lorent. Their remaining forces in the north were struck down, leaving Endralliande as the only concentration of Lorentish forces in Aelantir.  With their fleets destroyed and their armies trapped, they were forced to come to terms. We seized more territory in the Banished Isles, and more notably an outpost on the edge of a vast icy magical wasteland. This will be our jumping-off point for Demon's Blood trading in the frozen northern reaches of Aelantir. This region has escaped our claws for long enough, despite the surprisingly heavy settlement by Cannor.  I have departed with a force of marines on a mission of major importance, but it appears that my absence was leaked, as no sooner had we landed and begun to seize territory a declaration of war came from Moonhaven and Istralore. Perhaps they seek to take advantage of me being away from the Ruined Sea, perhaps at the behest of the traitorous particularists, or simple Human and Elven overconfidence. Regardless, I trust my captains to defend the Ruined Sea with everything they have.  Though we are separated from home by a hostile ocean and hostile fleets, we are well supplied. The manufactories of Mykx, powered by manual labourers burning through their lives with the power of green powder, have produced endless crates of prepared food, ammunition, and Demon's Blood. No doubt the Blood Bringers are ramping up their exports even further.  They knew exactly what they were doing. A fleet descended upon our foothold, maybe thinking that I had returned to Aelantir, but I was ready. The liberation of Viakkoc will not be interrupted. These are Gnollish lands, no matter what goddess or demon they worship.  Recruitment is stepping up, though not directly from the population. Our frontline sailors have been depleted by the repeated wars, but the pirate crews plying the waters of Aelantir are filled with experienced mariners. They can find ways to make up the numbers after we draft their crews into the Scourge Fleet.  When across the ocean, the only way to go is forward. Viakkoc himself had fled, making his way across his occupied territories to the Divenhal and then sailing to his Corinite allies in the heart of Cannor. I followed him, destroying every Cannorian fleet that stood between me and the Dameshead. The magnificent sight of the Mother Mykx descending upon their opulent coastline must have been terrifying, and tens of thousands of hungry Gnolls ravaging their cities will have brought up long-lost ancestral memories of times past, when they rightfully feared us.  Viakkoc was brought before me, and forced to kneel. Dressed in fine robes, purchased and not stolen, and muttering prayers to a Human of all creatures, he was a pitiful sight. I spared his head, and demanded his fealty to the Scourgemother, which is to say both to myself and the memory of Mykx. With his life on the line, no doubt knowing that his liberated soul would be end up in the presence of an angry Xhazob, he capitulated. While he is likely to work against us, that is no problem. We have defeated Lorent, and Moonhaven recently surrendered and ceded more island territory. The path back to Sarhal is open, and from there, on to Cannor. To be continued…
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Aug 11, 2023 16:51
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Seems like we're making a lot less money this time around, is that the case or am I just misremembering?
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Aug 12, 2023 15:21
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A lot of temporary economic buffs wore off I believe. Nothing to be done but to crack open those Old World markets and get all the not-Europeans hooked on demon coke about it!
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Aug 12, 2023 15:33
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habeasdorkus posted:Seems like we're making a lot less money this time around, is that the case or am I just misremembering? By this time around do you mean this latest set of updates, or this playthrough as a whole? In the case of the former, as mentioned we had a lot of economic buffs to kick things off that have long since passed, in the case of the latter we really don't have a stable economic base at all. Our money comes from raiding, bounty hunting flagships, and selling drugs, and is then immediately funnelled back into financing the military, hiring advisors, and upgrading ports to sell more drugs, but not really building up economic infrastructure. The intense economic engine of the dwarves is not how a pirate republic plays.
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Aug 12, 2023 21:06
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Yeah, I meant compared to the Dwarves. Do we not have as many things to spend money on as pirates?
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Aug 12, 2023 23:31
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habeasdorkus posted:Yeah, I meant compared to the Dwarves. Do we not have as many things to spend money on as pirates? There are a lot of things to spend money on; manufactories, universities, workshops, barracks, the army and navy. The issue being that almost all of the money is going to the latter in the form of docks, shipyards and the ships themselves just to keep us competitive with Lorent. The last few wars have seen us in near-constant deficit, and while I have been throwing down buildings during quiet periods it's a fight to stay afloat (hah) economically. It is not helped by us being mana-starved compared to the perma 6-6-6 leaders we had as the dwarves, so I've basically only been devving provinces when a mission required it, plus the fact that we burn down each new province we conquer, so our economy is not growing quickly that way either.
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Aug 13, 2023 12:25
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Chapter Sixteen: Double the Deck 1676-1688 Middle deck of the formerly Lorentish twodecker Ashen Rose, somewhere in the Ruined Sea, 1684 The ships creaked and moaned, and those moans became words that echoed up and down the length of the deck. Erik could track the sounds with his eyes, watch the demons twist and turn through the air of the vessel they had seized. He sniffled and rubbed at his nose, still tender from his last dose, and swayed in place as his eyes tracked the visitations above him "Hey, you in?" Galin asked. He delivered a prod to Erik's ribs, and Erik almost tipped over. "He's too far gone," Varil said, "but I'm in." Varil lifted a tiny paper sachet from his belt, and jiggled it. The sound of the powder within drew Galin's attention, and he licked his lips. "Two doses, minimum entry," he said. "Two?" Varil moaned, "it's the two of us, not a Winebay card tourney." As the two of them bartered back and forth, wagering their meagre powder rations to alleviate some of the limitless boredom of their enslavement, Erik let it wash over him as he embraced the madness that Demon's Blood drove into him. It was, in some ways, a more pleasant experience than what had come before. As a Reachman fisherman, pressganged by the wine-guzzlers into their endless campaign against the pirates, the conditions he'd been forced into weren't much better than what he was in now. At least now, he could escape a little into his own mind. The occasional nightmare of demonic torment was a price he was comfortable paying to make everything else a little more interesting. One of the Gnollish crew walked past, causing the other two to frantically hide their gambled doses and hand-crafted playing cards. She snorted and moved on. Not every Gnoll bothered to steal from the slaves. Some considered it beneath them, others were more than happy to work out their anger or frustration on a slave and steal their rations. The captain supposedly banned the crew stealing from each other, including slaves who needed their strength to man the guns, but most looked the other way when that was broken. Being a little out of it, a little bit further gone than the rest of his cannon crew, made Erik less of a target. Probably because the Gnolls were more interested in beating the pride and dignity out of the ones who had managed to keep a little. "Stay-," a voice growled from within the heavy metal mass of the cannon at his back. Erik leaned towards it, listening intently. "Stay- left-" it said. "Left!" he shouted, causing Galin and Varil to startle and drop their cards. At the sight of their game falling apart, he broke into giggles interspersed with a dark rumble that came from somewhere even lower than his lungs. "Hey, snap out of it you little lunatic," Galin snapped, standing and turning on Erik. He looked enormous and ferocious, like a Gnoll himself, with his hand raised to strike. Erik stared up and awaited the strike, knowing how good the pain would feel with the Blood still running through his body. Before the strike could fall, a bell rang out across the deck, followed quickly by the barking of orders in Gnollish. Erik had picked up a decent amount in the six months they'd been enslaved, somehow more vocabulary than he was sure had been spoken. "Cannon crews up!" the deckmaster shouted, "ready and prepare for hellfire." Erik hopped to his feet and took up position at the front of the cannon, while the other two moved towards the back. As the smallest of them, he handled the loading while the other two pushed and aimed. Across the length of the deck, former sailors of Lorent groaned and moaned as they got into position, with those complaining loudest earning a quick crack across the side with a whip. "Stay in position," the deckmaster continued, marching up and down and checking on the cannons, the crews, and the overseers, "do not disturb the priests." Behind him, a pair of priests decked in more finery and jewellery than Erik had ever seen marched down, a Lorentish man who had clearly once been someone of high standing being dragged between them. But Erik was most interested in the waves of sound that he could see radiating off of the priests. A steady thrum-drum-drum that drew in all of the wailing visitors that filled the air. They came to a stop at a brick structure that had been placed in the middle of the deck, then shoved the man inside. He groggily stared at his predicament, before a look of absolute terror dawned on his face and he began to scream and babble in Lorentish that even Erik couldn't understand. The door on the kiln was closed, the man's terror still pouring out of the cracks, and one of the priests began to murmur. "In the name of Kentryn, we take what he has, to strike down his fellows," the priest said, before inserting a blade in between two bricks of the kiln. The screaming rose in pitch and volume, and a horrific green light began to spill from within. A few moments later, green flames flickered. The screams continued as the priests caught the hellfire with special iron tools, and then began to distribute it to slots that had been cut into the cannon barrels, ready to transfer deadly demonic energy into each shot. "Load and aim!" the deckmaster called out, his voice roaring over the cries of the still-roasting man. Erik got to work, pouring in the gunpowder, ramming down the wad of padding, before finally rolling a cannonball down the length of the barrel. As he did so, the whole ship lurched and it felt for moment as though the cannon would roll forward and crush him between itself and the outer hull. Galin and Varil caught it, and Galin gave Erik a 'you owe me' look, not that Erik was in a position to recognise it. He was too busy staring down the yawning void of metal that had stopped inches from his face. The voice from before echoed within. 'Stay left', it had said. Erik stared for a moment longer before moving around and standing on the left of the cannon. The crew on the cannon to the left of him complained, but he ignored them as the three crew of his cannon pushed it up to the gun port. Outside, a ship as large as their loomed into view. It was going to be a broadside, both ways. "Fire on my mark only!" the deckmaster shouted. Erik grabbed a primer from the crew behind him, again ignoring their complaints and the whip of the overseer, and reached over the cannon to stick it into the slot for the hellfire. The metal glowed green-hot, and Erik was filled with the urge to stick it into his body and see what the demons would give him as a reward. He sniffed again, feeling a rush as he inhaled some powder that had remained on his scraggly beard. Cannons pealed, the ship shuddered, and screams began to echo down from one end of the ship. "Port side, from the stern, five second intervals!" the deckmaster shouted, and the overseers relayed with voice and whip. As each firing cannon blasted behind him, Erik's ears rang, but he could hear the demons in the air being cleared out, their essences sucked into the hellfire workings of each shot. The fuse was five seconds, so the moment the cannon behind him rang, he lit the fuse of his own with hellfire, marvelling in the momentary deafening silence as it spewed angry green sparks all over the barrel. The cannon sang, and then something exploded and pain splattered across Erik's face. Eyes screwed shut, he rubbed at a mix of blood and wooden shards to confirm it hadn't actually been torn off. As the ship suddered from more impacts, he peered over the mass of the cannon to see the right-hand side of the gunport had just gone along with the deck behind it, with half of Galin's corpse, the other half nowhere to be seen, dangling by a rope into the deck below. The crews on the lower cannons were just about recovering from the shock of the shot hitting above their heads, and a moment later their screams of horror filled the air bringing just as many new visitors as had been consumed by the volley. Erik pulled himself on top of the cannon, ready to prepare it for another shot, and stared out at the opposing vessel, which was now listing and firing cannonballs that hit the water before they hit the Ashen Rose. Green flame rippled up its side, wisps of faces and teeth biting into the wood to carry it to the true prizes, the sails and the gunpowder. It was a beautiful sight, but he might need a little more to keep appreciating it so. He took a dose from his belt and inhaled it all once, then got back to work. Excerpts from the journal of Izz Ridgeborn, Scourgemother of the Scourge Empire  As we find ourselves delving into the great continents of the east, I have ordered our most experienced commanders to return to Graxilzin to teach upcoming officers how to fight on land. Our viciousness can only carry us so far in battle, especially in a campaign that drags out across hundreds of miles.  They take with them news of the subjugation of Viakkoc, with orders to have it spread and celebrated across the Empire. Gnolls around the world should now know that their liberation from the gods and prophets of righteousness is soon at hand. We have grown into some far greater than what Mykx left behind. Oops, I wonder if that localisation issue is fixed in a more recent version of the Bitbucket or not. You can get the gist of it from the effects, at least.  The Sarhal campaign is not yet over. Much Gnollish territory remains in foreign hands. The Lords of the Diven, also claiming to be the Chosen of the Khet, rule over Akan. However, their grip is weak. Their rivalry with Elizna over Kheterata itself has drained all of their mandate for rule of the Sarhal, their subjects are restive and their armies are on the verge of breaking. Our victory is assured.  Our armies cross the desert, while marines seized the northern coast. Upon arrival, they were faced with three times their numbers drafted from across the vast and fractured Fangaula Empire. Both we and they were born in distant lands, but only one of us considered this their homeland. They could not stand up to our fury and dissolved under our attacks. Low mandate is a really killer. I reckon the only reason they haven't collapsed yet is because their main rival, the Jadd Empire, is getting hammered just as hard.  One of the great mountain fortresses used by the Fangaula was seized, along with a port and all of the valuables that we could extract from occupied lands. Viakkoc protested that we hadn't liberated his entire nation, but I showed him his place. A base on the Divenhal for direct strikes against Cannor is critical to bringing hellfire back to these waters. Without dragging out the war to attack their homeland, a tricky prospect when Court & Country still needs to be cleared out and Lorent could attack at any moment, I wasn't getting much more. Securing a port on the north coast was the key goal of the war.  At the end of these campaigns, I returned to Ilzin Mykx after several years of absence. New of my victories in Cannor and Sarhal have spread far and wide, and the people of Mykx hunger for further expansion. I have plans, many carried forward from my processor, to extend our reach even further.  With my return, the last few holdouts were either forced to come to terms or else uprooted and annihilated by force. Ilzin Mykx is the centre of government, Graxilzin is the centre of the military, Graxarr is the centre of the Kult, and above it all the Scourgemother is the heart of the nation. The outlying islands, the smugglers, the minor pirates all have to answer to me, my successors, and Mykx' memory if they dare stand against our goals. Getting the best outcome for Court & Country was out of reach, but the middle outcome is still decent.  Before I set sail for my next project, I handed further authority to the electoral council to appoint advisors for matters of state. Though I may be the heart, I don't consider myself the sole mind. To try and run the nation by myself would be impossible. I need competent Gnolls, or others if they display skill and the desire to serve Xhazob, to run things while I fight for our victory. The piratical option at this tier gives us Parliament, which I don't think fits with the character we've built for Mykx. This is minor, but helpful, compared to the other options.  With the state secure, I conducted a tour of the Ruined Sea, in particular holding a meeting at Ynnsmouth with our backers from Ebenmas and West Tipney, then travelling onto Neratica to renegotiate their protection agreements and discuss potentially assisting them reclaiming land stolen by Moonhaven. That we can even talk on such a level is something that I am sure Mykx would never have imagined, though some things haven't changed. I ensured that the Mother Mykx was in view at all times during negotiations, looming like a monstrosity half-crawled from the Pits, to remind them to remain on our good side. Once you reach the halfway point of de-monsterizing, all the penalties are halved. This is a big help for getting Viakkoc across the line into loyalty.  Once more, Lorent has struck at us. This time we are positioned to strike back. I sail for Viakkoc, and from there, Cannor.  It was to be a daring raid, though I had the foresight to not risk the Mother Mykx, leaving Admiral Ikse with our finest warship to guard the Ruined Sea. With a full fleet of war galleons, I descended on the Lorentish coast, and engaged their flagship with the intention to crush them within the sight of their own lands. Lorent's warships were far more than I anticipated. Massive vessels with two full decks of cannons that could deliver a broadside twice as powerful as one of ours, hellfire or not. Then, the warships from their escort fleet moved to engage bringing in a commander who was almost as skilled as I was.  Trapped between the Lorentish coast and the island of Venáil and outnumbered, the other admiral used their superior warships to force me into ever more dangerous positions. The fog lay heavy on the sea, and several of our ships ran aground as we contended with their positioning. Finally, I ordered a withdrawal to Gnollakan Harbour, while departing on the swiftest vessel to make ready the Ruined Sea for their counterattack with the deadly Twodeckers. Getting overconfident a bit. Having a bunch of bonuses to naval combat that let you punch above your weight falls does not do so well against a technological disadvantage, plus the fact that we've spent the last few decades building up Lorent's naval tradition giving them admirals almost as good as ours.  They have not let up. The hammer blow I feared came swiftly, as I took back command of the Mother Mykx and attempted to hold the southern passageway into the Ruined Sea. With one squadron still repairing in Sarhal and the other holding northern pass, we were soundly beaten again.  Now, the battered remnants of the Scourge Fleet hide in port with nearly half of its vessels lost to the waters. I have given the order to consolidate the remaining squadrons in Aelantir to bolster the Scourge Fleet back to full strength, but we need to pick our battles carefully. The only upside is that the war on the mainland is going smoothly. The Orcs are proving their worth, as they pour from Soruin to ravage the Lorentish colonies in the region.  The tide of twodeckers is turning. Lorent made the critical error of splitting their forces, allowing Ikse commanding the Gate Fleet to catch their vanguard without support and seize a full half of their frigates. She then turned and immediately struck at the main convoy, which was lagging behind. In this battle, outnumbering the twodeckers three-to-one, she took almost all of them for Mykx.  Having captured examples gave us all the information we needed to have the shipyards start producing twodeckers themselves, and have the Scourge Fleet refitted to match Lorentish technology. Even the Mother Mykx is undergoing a rebuild, our Kult priests working overtime to drench the wood and rope with the blood and souls needed to make it into the demon-cursed monster it ought to be.  Now, I sit safely off their very coastline, crates full of citrus fruit and Demon's Blood filling my hold, and soon Lorentish gold alongside it. They fear us and hide in their ports, despite their numbers.  We could end the war right now, but I want a decisive victory. For the first time we can strike at their homeland, make them cower in their beds and let them know fear. This will not end until I can deliver swathes of their colonies into our hands. A good showing as to why these wars have been so exhausting. It took until 40% war score just to get a white peace, and until we could start hitting Lorent proper we couldn't really get enough more to make major gains.  The people of Mykx, seeing our strength, are behind their Scourgemother. The power of the host reaches out from the depths of the craterous Ruined Sea, and touches Cannor. Lorent's remaining armies in Aelantir have been crushed, their fleets are in hiding, their gods are unable to save them.  When I finally agree to let them have their waters back, it is done from a position of power. Aboard the Mother Mykx, surrounded by the damned souls of their captured, enslaved, and sacrificed sailors, we negotiated. Removing Lorentish influence from Aelantir entirely is a distant dream, but the Banished Isles can serve as a shield against further invasion from the east. A full half of Endralliande, and all remaining Lorentish territory on the Ravenous Isle, is ceded. Our warriors are already entering our new territory to tear down what they can and assemble fortifications to ensure we keep it.  This is the single greatest acquisition of territory since Soruin was seized, but unlike then, when we had no choice but to hand administration over to the Orcs, this is in our capacity to take. The Lorentish colonial officials are drafted in to work for the Blood Bringer administrators, their systematic bureaucratic techniques integrated into our offices, and we begin to turn over the plantations of the island to the production of Demon's Blood precursors. We managed to raze enough to immediately get the next level of admin tech, which is one that also makes coring cheaper.  While this war saw very little combat on land, there were new innovations seen in the brutal close quarters of ship combat. Several crews attempted to overcome the firepower advantage of the Lorentish twodeckers by slinging grenades loaded with hellfire over the deck to ignite and shred their sails and rain death down on the crew. Countless Gnolls lost limbs and lives to shoddy construction, but those who survived brought their designs back and soon the manufactories were churning out grenades that can be empowered on the battlefield by priests. Also mil tech…  Our tendrils have reached Cannor, and our smugglers are operating across Sarhal and Haless, making inroads. The Scourge Empire has just delivered a mighty blow to the greatest power on Halann. There is nowhere in the world that is safe from us, from our ambition, from the Scourge-of-all-seas. And diplo tech. Tech 23 is a real important one all round, so this is very good timing. To be continued… Vote The sixth idea slot is open, although we haven't actually finished either Maritime or Quality, or even Religious. Depending on what is selected, it may take a while to open it up. Which do you think will be best for Mykx' future? Administrative – As expansion continues, the new administration will need to keep up with the new territories, even if they have been razed to the ground as part of the conquest. Economic – The economy remains unstable, reliant on piracy and plunder to stay afloat. Giving it a kick would improve the baseline and let us spend the plunder on growing the military and production base. Trade – Another option is to expand the smuggling networks and produce more maximum-size Demon's Blood export ports. Influence – Viakkoc has been brought to heel opening up the possibility of using him as a proxy for expansion in Sarhal and Cannor, and as demonsterizing progresses the possibility of building a network of more vassals like Ozgarom to fight our wars on the mainland has reappeared. Offensive – Strike quickly, siege quickly, slaughter quickly Mercenary – Gold speaks, more than nation or religion. Manpower is our greatest deficit if we wish to engage the great powers of Cannor directly, but there are those among them who would side with Xhazob himself for payment. Vote below by clicking on the image. Up to two votes are allowed.  Voting will last 48 hours.
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Aug 15, 2023 21:13
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How far are we behind on tech right now?
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Aug 15, 2023 22:05
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Plutonis posted:How far are we behind on tech right now? Completely caught up, though at the expense of not having many idea groups completed.
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Aug 15, 2023 22:18
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Well, with Razing, the recent Core reduction and us getting the 3% strength from Religious, Admin Tech can probably be afforded to be neglected a bit so voted for Economic and Administrative
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Aug 15, 2023 23:28
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Anyone voting for Economic should be tossed on the pyre. We take, we do not barter.
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Aug 16, 2023 01:20
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Vote Results Administrative wins out, thought it is a relatively close vote. Since there's no more need for Deus Vult, we will focus on getting stuck into this idea group over completing Religious ideas. 
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Aug 17, 2023 18:06
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Chapter Seventeen: Hegemonic Consolidation 1688-1701 The Mother Mykx, offshore from Toref Citadel, 1694 Light bloomed from Citadel before they could even see it. The afternoon sun cast streams of gold onto the water below, and the crew hooted with delight at the prospect of stripping the walls bare for loot. "Don't get distracted!" Ik called out over the roar of the wind, the waves crashing against the cape, and the wails of damned trapped within the planks of the vessel. She was stood behind Captain Grorr atop the aft castle, spyglass in hand to evaluate the Citadel once it came into view. Grorr had his own work to do, handing out constant orders to his underlings. The reports from Arkez' failed invasion of Eborthíl fifty years earlier had reported a massive fortification of the structure, but who knew how much more the Busilari had done to it since then, especially with Gnollish vessels now freely roaming the Divenhal once more. Guns were being elevated, crews were being positioned for repairs and fire management, and the sails were readied to be taken down at a moment's notice. Ik spun her spyglass in her paw, tapped her foot, and spoke up. "Back in Mykx' days, we stormed the lower dockyards to take the Citadel," she said, "how do you rate our chances of doing that?" "With respect, Admiral, I don't think the Mother Mykx could fit into the cave," Grror replied. "Maybe with some of captured Fangaulan ships then, and if we can't seize it, we fill the whole thing enough hellfire that it'll take them years to rebuild it." Grorr looked at her, then chuckled and got back to his work. There was already a plan to storm the fortress, it just depended on what exactly they were about to face. Burning it all down was always an option. The whole vessel leaned, its structure creaking and groaning as it strained against the sudden change in direction. With the cape passing, the Golden Citadel came into view. The Busilari had not stripped away the gold adorning its walls. Perhaps it was a challenge to the Gnolls, or perhaps whoever ruled it was just as much a braggart as one of them. Either way, it stood tall, both built into and overlooking jagged cliffs. At the base of the cliffs, the cave entrance was guarded by heavy metal gates that were as jagged as the cliffs themselves. It seemed as though they had learned their lessons. Ik peered through her spyglass. "There are cannons at almost every window," she said, "I can't see any-" Her words were drowned out by the roar of cannons from an unexpected direction. Wood screamed as it shattered, splinters filled the air, and Ik dug her boots into the deck to keep from tipping over as the flagship shook. She and Grror turned to looked, and found themselves nearly face-to-face with an entire battery of cannons in an unexpected direction. It had been built into the cape they had just rounded, hidden from their approach. "So, they do learn," Ik said. Screams and cries came from below where they had been hit, while the yells of overseers and the crack of whips brought the panicking slaves back into line. "We're out of position," Grror growled, "and the cannons are all pointed up." "Then we keep going," Ik said. "We assault the fortress. Mother Mykx can take it." She stepped down from the aft castle before he could respond, leaving him to deal with the orders he'd just been handed. "Signal the following ships," he said to one of the crew holding on tightly to the ropes for the mizzen-mast, "tell them to rake the battery with fire as they pass, then straight on to the fortress." The aft castle shuddered under his feet as the vessel turned and presented its aft to the battery, the next volley blasting the cabins, including his own. His ship would have to suffer a little, he might lose some treasure, but victory was just within reach. The fortress loomed high above them, but not so high that a well-aimed broadside could not hit it. Cannons roared in both directions as the Mother Mykx fought a duel with the land itself. Sails tore, leaving wisps of spirits flailing in the wind before they knitted themselves back together, strips of decking tore away with blood and water coating the deck in equal measure. But Toref Citadel did not come off any better. Green explosions ran up and down its walls, hellfire pouring in through every available opening and the screeches of its ignited defenders cutting through the sounds of battle. Flame danced across the Citadel, and the golden exterior began to warp and distort, until there were visible streams of molten gold dripping down the walls and onto the rocks below. Smoke filled the bay as more warships joined the barrage, engaging both the naval battery and the fortress itself. On the main deck, ankle deep in blood but still standing tall, the marines stationed aboard the Mother Mykx stood to attention, ignoring the battle around them. Ik was addressing them, as cannons around them were loaded with grappling hooks. It would be a direct cliffside assault, into the burning and melting walls, to hit the defenders from a direction they would never expect. For good reason, it was a suicidal plan, but the marines were listening intently to Ik's speech. "I've seen all your faces before, in Endralliande, Varionàil, Akan, and Deshak!" she said. "We've fought our way from one end of the ocean to the other, just to return here. Mykx knew we would return, knew that Viakkoc would snivel at our feet, knew that we would claim what was ours." She pointed a sword up at the burning fortress above them. "In there, the Humans live off of the treasure that is rightfully ours. They shelter the descendants of the slaves who should serve us. They squat in Mykx' own birthplace! We are going up there to strip them of everything they hold, from gold to their very freedom! Climb up, take everything you can carry, then open the lower gates and meet us out here. In the name of Mykx, and the Scourgemother!" A resounding cheer roared across the deck, followed momentarily by the thundering of cannons as dozens of grappling hooks shot up into the walls of the fortress. Ik stepped back and returned to Grror's side as the marines began to climb, with blades between their teeth and pistols loaded at their hip. Nearby, other ships began launching their own assaults, ropes going up and shadowy furred figures climbing up the sheer cliff while silhouetted by the flames consuming the fortress. "They definitely know we're back now," Grror said. Ik shook her head. "This is just the beginning," she said, "I won't stop until the whole world sees our hegemony." Excerpts from the journal of Ik Ridgeborn, daughter of Scourgemother Izz Ridgeborn  My first posting, shepherding a bunch of landlubber soldiers from island to island while they put any resistance to the sword. The Banished Isles are filled with pitiful little things bemoaning the ruins around them, but even their attempts to show us their strength fall flat. Mother, Scourgemother, is still in Sarhal with the Scourge Fleet after kicking the tar out of Lorent, but I bet she had a hand in giving me such a boring position. She's too soft on me, I want some action.  We participated in the completion of the conquest of the Ravenous Isle, even if most of it was spent watching from a harbour on the inner side of the Cliffs of Ruin while the outer coast was subjugated. I participate in an expedition deeper into the interior, where the remains of a Gnollish settlement had been found amongst the flesh-eating plants that dominate the jungle. Based on the age of the coinage we found, this Gnoll was probably one of the captains who betrayed Mykx and tried to form their own pirate haven. Looks like the scum got what was coming to them. As a nation with a capital in the New World, we can actually declare war on colonial nations without dragging in the overlord. Previously making anything of that was hindered by a lack of gov cap, and then by getting chain-declared on by Cannor.  When not coddling the soldiers, we are escorting administrators out to their new postings. We've grabbed ports all over Aelantir, and only now are the Blood Bringers actually leaving their cushy administrations to deal with local problem. Considering how lawless some of the outlying ports I've seen are, this'll be an improvement.  If not administrators, then construction materials. The smugglers are being contracted out to purchase the stuff from Cannor. The Cannorians won't deal with us directly, but put a few intermediaries in the way, grease a few palms with gold or powder, and suddenly we have access to Elven lumber and Dwarven marble.  At last, mother has called on me to real action. I arrived in Sarhal, along with tens of thousands of other Gnolls, to participate in the great 'liberation'. I wouldn't call it that, considering the land'll be going to that Human-loving snake, Viakkoc, but mother kept her distance so I couldn't complain to her. Fangaula is still struggling to hold onto Kheterata, so this'll be no problem.  I was ordered to land the marines on the northern coast, while the main army pushed up through the desert. The fort walls crumbled like dust under the hellfire barrage of the Mother Mykx, and we swept inside and exterminated all resistance in a matter of days. Afterwards, we withdrew the marines to Gnollakan Harbour to drive off attempts to take the port and cut off our supplies, while the army rolled over the remaining defences.  Seeing the Scourge Fleet in battle, obliterating the Fangaulan ships, hits home how we are unmatched on the seas. No matter how far the Cannorians innovate, we will always be nipping at their heels, stealing their innovations for our own, and getting stuck into the thick of battle to put those ideas to the test.  The Lord of the Diven himself made an appearance to drive us out. For all his bluster and numbers, his soldiers were disloyal and broke under the army's grenade volleys. Our control over Akan was solidified.  As we waited in port, I was called to mother's chambers on the Mother Mykx. She was sick, and wanted me to promise to keep the Scourge Fleet growing, and deliver death directly onto Cannor's shores, to a level she had never managed. That was a lot to put on me, and I ranted at her for assigning me to babysit transports and holding me back, until I realised that she had passed. I didn't know how I felt about that, I still don't. Haayow, still back in Aelantir where she can manipulate the electoral council, will probably take over. She's a puppet of the Blood Bringers, more interested in expanding the economy and bureaucracy than seizing power as we should. No doubt she'll want to bring the current war to a close sooner rather than later.  Her first act of note was opening relations with the International Gommo, which I found out when a group of Gnomes showed up on the Mother Mykx, very interested in the properties of Demon's Blood. I told them to go pester the Blood Bringers, then threw them off the ship. Back onto their own vessel and not into turbulent ocean, as I so wanted to. Not really going to touch artificery this time around so I just take the Gommo for the production efficiency.  Despite orders to wind down the war effort, a division of Orcs hopped up on Demon's Blood pushed on through Elizna to Kheterata itself, dragging Viakkoc's army along with them. As the ancient city burned, we received terms of peace from the Lord of the Diven, ending the war before we could seize all the haughty felines' treasures.  Gnollish territory was returned directly to Viakkoc, while we stripped the Human lands of everything they had then handed it to the pitiable snake for administration. We retained Deshak harbour, our first Demon's Blood port on the Divenhal. As orders came to withdraw to Aelantir and let the Blood Bringers pick up administration in the city, I stared out over the Divenhal, calling upon Xhazob to grant me sight of the rich lands over the horizon, and thought back to mother's request.  I marched onto the Mother Mykx, duelled Admiral Thex and threw him from the prow with my own hands, then called upon the priests to project my voice across the Scourge Fleet. I spoke from my heart, saying that we would not withdraw until we had shown Cannor that we had returned, and they were no longer safe wherever they hid. The world will be scourged. We set out for Cannor, so they might remember our fangs on their necks.  Our first port of call was Toref Citadel, Mykx' birthplace. With the power of the Scourge Fleet, we ravaged the Isles of Tef, taking home endless gold from the mines and countless slaves descended from those who had been liberated when the citadel was retaken. I'm sure somewhere among them I can find the great-great-great grandchildren of Mykx' family scribe, whose writings are still kept as important historical documents in the Ilzin Mykx archives.  As we ravaged the Cannorian coastline, increasingly urgent missives arrived from Izlin Mykx. Haayow has created a full administrative council and demanded that the Scourge Fleet returns to be reorganized based on the advice of a bunch of landlubbers. I am ignoring these, and will return when, and only when, we are done here.  On the way back, we encountered many Lorentish vessels bound for South Aelantir. Capturing and interrogating a few of their crew, we found that they are currently fighting a losing war against Larankar, the dominant native nation in the south. With their distraction, I took the initiative and had the returning fleet and marines land on and seize the remainder of Endralliande without any hope of intervention from their homeland. Haayow can consider it a gift for her new administrative council to manage.  I wasn't sure what to expect when I returned, so I landed at Graxilzin with a battalion of our best-drilled marines rather than face Ilzin Mykx. Representatives from the administrative council met me and we hashed out a deal. My exploits in Cannor and Endralliande had made me a heroine among the common Gnolls, so removing me was not an option, not that I'd let them. The Blood Bringers offered concessions that would see a significant fraction of the fleet's costs paid out of their Demon's Blood profits, and I would be given full authority as Grand Admiral of the Scourge Fleet. In exchange I would, bluntly, not storm Ilzin Mykx to make myself Scourgemother. Haayow can have the post, the Fleet is still the premier power in the Scourge Empire.  Word has filtered from Viakkoc of a great rising of Gnollish warriors in the deepest parts of the desert. The Jadd Empire has finally imploded, and they have liberated themselves from Elven domination. The only downside is, like Viakkoc, they have succumbed to a foreign religion. The Kult is concerned the Jaddari zealots will locate and seal the entrance to the Pits of Grillax, but even I don't know what we can do about that, as deep inland as it is.  I have to admit that Haayow does have somewhat of a head for running things. She has set up a national bank run by our dwarven slaves. I don't think I'd trust any other Gnoll with my money, so a bunch of slaves with nowhere to run or hide might be the best ones to run it. She's even offered them some luxuries so they won't be tempted to risk going back into the mines and construction sites.  She's also given more concessions to the Fleet, giving retired captains priority for high-ranking government posts and positions on the administrative council. I bet she's dropped a lot in the reckoning of her backers, just to keep me from the throne. I wonder if she can handle it. The corruption slider now needs to sit at 65% just to break even. At this point I have cranked it up to max and left it there.  It did not take long. Stress, overwork, whatever. Haayow passed away at her desk, and I sailed the Mother Mykx into the Grand Harbour to meet adoring crowds and accept my ascendance to Scourgemother. This is the hour of the Scourge Fleet. What mother started; I will complete.  My first order was a mass-shipbuilding program. We have the infrastructure to support a far larger fleet than we currently field, and there are many parts of Aelantir that have not felt the touch of our raiders in decades. A massive expansion of the pirate fleet, as well a new division of the army and transports to ferry them, will allow us to extend our reach across the world.  I do have to credit Haayow a little though. The economic reforms she set off are paying dividends as I strip the treasury bare to fund the expansion of the fleet. Her economists have kept things stable through careful management of the national bank, and have even managed to keep rampant price inflation from all the money being thrown around under control.  Being Scourgemother has made me opne to all sorts of weirdos who want to try and influence the way I rule. The latest batch are academics who have shipped in huge batches of books and pamphlets from Cannor, in which some long-winded bores reason themselves into ridiculous positions. That said, there are some interesting ideas in there. 'Deàlsal Rialt', or 'Benevolent Kingdom' is a book on the greatest empires in history, from the Precursor Empire, to Castanor, to the Phoenix Empire, to Lorent, building a narrative that Men and Elves, together, produce the greatest civilizations. I'd like to see them come up against us on the water. 'The Damerian Burden' is more interesting, focusing on the 'civilising' of the orcs who were enslaved during the Greentide and Corintide, and how the chains can benefit both master and servant. I might hand it over to the council to see if they can apply it to our slave management. Vertesk is one of the main slave trading hubs in Cannor. Ironic that they spawned the Enlightenment, but perhaps appropriate.  I have returned to Akan to finish the liberation of Viakkoc. Elizna is deep in their own campaign against the Jaddari remnants, so this is the perfect chance to strike down their ally and free the remaining Gnolls in the region to join us in our attack on Cannor.  The campaign has been slow going so far, as the Ekhans have heavily fortified the inland mountains where my guns cannot reach. Meanwhile, a detachment of their forces is pushing in from the east, making the war a race between us and them in taking forts. Not very exciting, really, apart from a brief action where I obliterated the Eliznan navy. So, I have something else in mind.  I will take the Scourge Fleet into the Dameshead, stand it just outside the waters of Anbenncóst, the 'City of the World's Desires', and challenge any of them to stop me. My fleets operate unimpeded across half the world, and soon the other half too. The seas are my hegemony. With 500 ships total and the largest fleet of heavy warships in the world, we can proclaim Naval Hegemony. Normally I would be cautious and consider whether this would alienate our allies, as it acts like a giant middle finger to AI nations (which is why I never took Economic Hegemon as Orlghelovar). However, we already have no allies besides those we've subjugated so there's nothing stopping us from jumping right on it. To be continued…
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Aug 21, 2023 16:17
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And so the gnolls of Mykx are dragged kicking and screaming into demonsterized statecraft by sheer necessity of managing spoils from a whole continent, who would have thought? I'm surprised you're so low on the great powers totem pole, though, but from what you've been saying you're entirely reliant on raiding and capturing flagships to stay afloat, right? Guess you're just a navy that only very recently has parasitically grown a state to attach to.
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Aug 21, 2023 16:56
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We seem like we're in extremely good shape. What are our expansion plans at this point?
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Aug 21, 2023 18:14
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RubricMarine posted:I'm surprised you're so low on the great powers totem pole, though, but from what you've been saying you're entirely reliant on raiding and capturing flagships to stay afloat, right? Guess you're just a navy that only very recently has parasitically grown a state to attach to. That's how it plays. Need to expand the fleet to pillage more stuff to fund the fleet. habeasdorkus posted:We seem like we're in extremely good shape. What are our expansion plans at this point? The next couple of expansionist missions involve getting enough Demon's Blood export ports in Aelantir, after which we can start looking at real overseas franchising.
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Aug 21, 2023 20:50
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The fleet is expanding to meet the needs of the expanding fleet? 
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Aug 22, 2023 06:43
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Looking forward to us rounding the Dameshead and looting the poo poo out of the empire.
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Aug 22, 2023 15:18
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Chapter Eighteen: Tightening the Noose 1701-1719 Somewhere off the coast of Istranar in the Broken Sea, 1712 "Iceberg!" cried the spotter at the ship's prow, "hard right!" Muroga grunted as she pulled on the oar, along with the others besides her, and the ship lurched as the arms of dozens of warriors delivered a mighty heave into the water and forced the mass of wood and bodies to turn. Her arms burned with exertion, but she embraced the fire running through her veins and the stars that flickered at the edges of her vision. A terrible rumbling filled the air, along with the slaps of oars against solid material, as smaller chunks of ice drifted past them. Facing the stern, she could only wait and mentally plead Xhazob for leniency. The call went up to start rowing again, and she put her all into it, ignoring the feeling of slushy water reverberating up her oar. After a few minutes, the iceberg, larger than their entire vessel, loomed past them, and the crew breathed a collective audible sigh of relief. "Exchange!" the captain shouted. In a practiced motion, Muroga released the oar, stood up, stepped backwards past the Gnoll who was her replacement, turned and sat down on the bench behind him. This was no slave vessel, all of them were trained marines who needed to reserve some of their strength for the battle ahead. That said, Muroga was fairly unique among their number in being one of the few Orcs in their regiment. She worked her arms as she sat, her joints cracking and the strain of rowing slowly draining away. It was replaced with a sensation of chill air that sat over her skin even as the fire of Demon's Blood raged beneath it. She was a long way from the jungles of Soruin or the battlefields of Akan and the Divenhal. In the past few weeks of sailing, she had seen more ice and snow than in her entire life to this point. "Hey, question," the Gnoll beside her grunted. Ziz, if Muroga was correctly remembering the brief introduction the commander had given to each group of oarmates. The Gnoll was cradling her arms, rubbing the pads of her hands beneath her fur as if trying to work the pain out of her flesh. "Go ahead, we've got time," Muroga replied. The vessel juddered as it passed over the last trailing chunks of ice, then settled into a steady rythym based on the push and pull of the rowers. They were probably still an hour out from landing, with at least two more oar exchanges to come. "You lot're supposed to adapt, right?" Ziz asked, "when d'you start changing colour?" Muroga looked down at her hands, which throbbed at the boundary between freezing air and boiling blood. Mottled green with hints of brown, perfect for hiding in the depths of the jungles of Soruin, exactly as her ancestors had done during the Human occupation. It was all a coincidence, though. It was really a legacy of the Greentide, an adaption to the fields and forests of Escann that had stuck. "That power died with Dookanson," she said, "every Orc since then has the colour of their parents." "Shame, I'd like to see you turn snow white," Ziz cackled. She tapped her claws against her arms for a moment, staring into the fog that engulfed them, before continuing. "He's some kind of demonic avatar, yeah?" Ziz asked, "ever thought of asking Xhazob f'the power back?" "If Dookan is in the host, he's already been devoured," Muroga said, "I will retrieve my power when my soul joins him in Xhazob's stomach." "Don't try t'go there too fast," Ziz said, punching Muroga on the should, "we've got Humans to slaughter. What do you bet they can't even handle the cold even though they settled here. Two doses, three doses that they don't last a day without their clothes?" "I'm not betting away my doses," Muroga said. She touched at the pouches on her belt, carefully separated from the gunpowder for her pistol. It was said that every batch of Demon's Blood was different. First of all, there were the different strains. Strength and fearlessness for warriors, sharpened senses and cunning for administrators, greater communion with the demons for Kult priests, addictive pleasure and enrapturing fear for the slaves. Then, each person had their own reaction to it. Ever since Muroga had taken her first dose, leading to a day spent chasing demonic motes as they whirled through the jungles of Ozgarom before meeting marines in training and making her decision to join, she knew that she was being guided by the host towards her destiny. What that destiny was, remained to be seen. Ultimately, her soul was Xhazob's, but doing his work in life before she was consumed would give her comfort in those last moment. Even now, lights glittered in the fog, in the corners of her eyes, under the surface of the water, just about everywhere that she was not looking directly. "Boring! You're a strong girl, you'll win more in the battle." Ziz was still complaining, so Muroga tuned her out as she tried to focus on the motes. A rush of air blew directly over the boat, as cold as if she had dropped into the water. The fire in her body died away and her breathing stopped for a moment. The Gnolls didn't seem to notice, maybe thanks to their fur, but Muroga felt it deeply. It was blowing from the stern, carrying them forward with the limited sails the landing galley had rigged, carrying them closer to the shore faster than expected. Was Xhazob blessing them, or carrying them to a swift doom? She shot to her feet and turned to face the prow, ignoring the biting of the wind on her skin and the yelling of one of the sergeants. The motes gathered ahead of the vessel, and then before her very eyes the fog parted. Ahead, a frozen shoreline dotted with cannon emplacements and the moving specks that were terrified defenders. Without the fog, they were fully exposed to cannon fire, but with the wind they would be there in short order. All the other marines not currently rowing had jumped to their feet, and a roar of battle, a challenge to the enemy ahead. Ziz was practically hopping on top of the bench, her blade held above her head, as distant booms began to sound. Not a blessing or a curse then. A test, a challenge, to seize the destiny the demons wanted her to take. Muroga took a full dose of powder, feeling the fire fill her from the inside out and banish the icy gale, and joined her roar with the Gnolls around her. Fire or ice, jungle or desert, ocean or land, victory was her destiny. Excerpts from the journal of Ik Ridgeborn, Scourgemother of the Scourge Empire  Spending all my time at sea, I cannot trust my advisors to run things in my absence. The Banished Isles are in near-constant rebellion, the artificers chafe against the restrictions we've placed on them and the Gommo at large, and they can't even scrounge up anything but a single unit of marines of deal with them.  The army, too, is no help. It's like I can only really rely on the Fleet to actually do its job. We took the fort at Sirit, but not without tremendous losses. Elizna somehow brought a full army through Viakkoc's territory and caught our forces in the mountain valleys in the midst of assaulting Ekhan fortifications. Our ferocity allowed us to break through the encirclement, but our generals should never have let themselves be caught out. A tech disadvantage, bad terrain, and the AI somehow walking past a fort to get here. It's amazing that this wasn't a defeat.  So, with gritted teeth and a few lopped heads, I have ordered a withdrawal from Ekha, taking a token amount of plunder from the forts we'd already seized. Even with hegemonic control of the water, inland's still out of reach.  At least we got the chance to learn from the enemy. Tactics and technology in Cannor and Bulwar are constantly advancing, and we need to keep on top of it or another massacre could occur. Said mil tech that we were behind on. The army probably needs a bit of reorganisation to better fit the new paradigm (more artillery), but it's tricky with near-constant wars.  After turning the armies onto Fangaula, what ought to be a simple smash-and-grab of the remaining territory they held in Deshak escalated rapidly to a full war with Lorent citing the war spreading into their waters and the rampant piracy we've been engaged in since we retook Viakkoc. I've authorized the use of hellfire in this war, as our fleets are somewhat out of position with the Scourge Fleet itself ravaging Fangaula's homeland rather than being positioned against Lorent.  Word comes over the ocean of messy battles across Aelantir, as our scattered pirate fleets get engaged by Lorentish warships. Pirate captains are a terror against merchant vessels, but do not fare well against Twodeckers. To and Okkeih are both assigned to defend the Ruined Sea, and bail out any pirates caught out by Lorent.  The Lorentish coast is under my control, but it's a boring job patrolling up and down for any fleets leaving for Aelantir. I've been passing the time by reading more of the books that the 'enlightened' scholars of Cannor have produced. Some of them have strange ideas of 'liberty' and 'rights', but make for good reading if only to understand the strange thought processes of Humans and Elves. Many unauthorized reprints are available Ilzin Mykx for the so inclined, and probably soon everyone will consider themselves a philosopher.  With reinforcements cut off from their homeland, our forces stationed in Aelantir and Orcish auxiliaries are plenty capable of crushing what little resistance they have on offer. Naval supremacy is everything in our domain. The Leechdens are trivially defended, while Soruin falls once again to our advance.  In a near-constant state of war, it'seasy to centralize more power onto the office of the Scourgemother and my administrative council. While I am away on campaign, I need to trust the rebels are kept in line and taxes are collected on time.  With a little bit of moral flexibility, the council should have an easier time bringing new conquests under control. They'll have been burnt to the ground, their people scattered and exhausted, and we will have the organisation and power to bring them into the welcoming embrace of Demon's Blood. The big prize of Admin ideas makes coring 25% cheaper and 25% faster, absolutely necessary for any blobbing conqueror.  After a few years of stalemate, Fangaula has handed over their remaining territory on the Divenhal coast. Next time, I'll be going for their heartland. They could really use a good dosing.  The Fleet continues to innovate so we're step ahead of the competition. In our time in the Divenhal we've plundered many Dwarven ships sailing from Ovdal Tûngr, and have found them to be much sturdier with the copper integrated into their designs. A few of their shipwrights have been requisitioned to serve the Fleet with their knowledge  There are more innovations out there, becoming more and more common the deeper we raid into Cannor. Guns that shoot magic, strange devices that need expensive Damestear to power, and most concerning magical shields capable of shrugging off hellfire. I have ordered the Kult to delve into these mysteries, and determine whether they can call upon Xhazob's host to bring down such artificery.  With their colonies cut off from support, and the Scourge Fleet ravaging their coast, Lorent had no choice but to give up the remainder of Soruin to us. After stripping it of everything it was worth, the ruins were handed over to our Orcish thralls to rebuild as they see fit.  The nations of Cannor have to deal with us as equals, not nuisances to be destroyed. Our dominance over Aelantir is recognized as a legitimate sphere of influence. Protection agreements are being drawn up across the Divenhal as we have shown that we can stay our blades, for a price. It was most amusing to see a decadent Lorentish prince signing over his colonial subjects aboard the Mother Mykx, surrounded by the splendour and decorum we took from them in the first place. All remaining maluses from being monstrous are removed, which is a big help towards holding onto our subjects.  I was barely able to make it back to to Ilzin Mykx for a much-needed catch-up with the council before the next crisis emerged. Busilar want us off Cannor's doorstep, and are preparing an invasion of Viakkoc to do so. I've already boarded the Mother Mykx and departed eastwards again. If I can catch them, I can end this war before it even starts.  They ought to know better than to underestimate me. I caught their invasion fleet off Gnollakan Harbour, sinking almost all their escorts and sending thousands of soldiers into Xhazob's watery grasp. Then, I pursued and engaged their main fleet in their own waters, seizing their flagship to add to our trophy collection and driving them back to port.  That doesn't mean we can deliver a decisive blow though. They hide on their continent, unwilling to come out and face us while maintaining an army which is, with their allies, large enough to respond to any of our landings with enough force to drive us away. We are at a stalemate.  Constant war is good for military innovations, both tactically, such as the appropriate massing of cannons to deliver devastation to the enemy, and logistically, how to ensure our armies get supplied across the vast oceanic distances we fight in. Normally they can live off the land and the inhabitants, we're reaching the army size where that's not feasible and we need proper supply chains. Finishing quality gets us 5% discipline, bringing us up to about 125% by default, more with an advisor. Also, a nice little reference there. I never played HoI3, but I've heard things.  I'm fed up of the stalemate, and have ordered the army to withdraw from Viakkoc. I am more than capable of holding the Divenhal, so there is no more threat of invasion. Instead, we will continue tightening our grip on Aelantir. In the far, frozen north, Istranar holds the key to the backdoor of the Ynn Plateau. A proper port there will give us more access to those markets and a staging area to strike at Eordand.  Compared to the density of Cannor, the wasteland is near impossible for them to hold. Our marines secured a snow-coated island off of Istranar's coast, and the bulk of the army soon joined them for the assault on their capital.  However, they soon encountered armies from Eordand. Arakeprun took advantage of our invasion to launch one of their own. When the messages from the generals arrived, requesting orders, whether to pull back and let them fight, or to race the Ruinborn for territory, I have delivered a different set of orders. One with a particular plan.  The first step of the plan is to secure a minimal victory against the colonists. Our trading port is secured, we don't really need to ravage all their territory. Then, all armies in the north will assemble on this narrow strip of tundra and prepare themselves.  While all the action is in Aelantir, I'm stuck with maintaining the blockade of Busilar and negotiating protection contracts with cowards of the Divenhal, as more and more pirates filter in from the saturated western seas. That said, it's been fun talking with the invaders from underground, who've declared themselves the 'High Dominion'. Their outlook is that all races should kneel and serve their Runefather, or else be crushed, so there's a grudging respect there. Perhaps they found something down there, deep underground, that brought them around to Xhazob's way of thought. If the Obsidian Invasion conquers enough holds, they get this unique formable and claims on the entire Serpentspine. I've never actually seen it form before, although as far as I know it doesn't have any content.  Much like Lorent, Busilar had no choice but to give up colonial territory they couldn't defend any more. A militant administration has been set up to secure our hold on the southern flank of the Leechdens, protecting Demon's Blood production, named Spearscourge after the Lorentish name for the peninsular. Like Ozgarom guards the southern rim of the Ruined Sea, Spearscourge will be extended to do the same for the rest of South Aelantir. Spearscourge is a client state, since there aren't any non-colonial tags to release in this region.  Blockades are our main way of fighting against the Great Powers, and we've learned much over the past few wars. We'll need to keep this up until we find a way to combat them on land, especially if we want to seize ports within in Cannor itself. Still, grinding entire economies to a halt with just a few ships is entertaining in itself. Finishing Maritime increase fleet movement speed, and allows ships to auto-repair in coastal zones.  The orders are simple. As soon as we are confident that Arakeprun has advanced too deep into the Ynn Plateau, we strike out, using our naval hegemony to rapidly ship marines along the coast and seize key ports while the army cuts off their retreat. Eordand would fall while their armies were away.  That was the plan, but nothing survives contact with the enemy. Admiral Okkeih, commanding the Western Fleet, was defeated and forced to harbour, wrecking our plans to seize the Eordand coast. The land advance continued while I personally made my way north to secure the waters. It is far too cold up here after years in the Divenhal, but battle warms up my blood even as we fight amongst icebergs and treacherous melting ice floes.  At least part of the plan was a success, with the armies of Arakeprun trapped by their own fortresses. As we settle in for a blockade of their homelands, I have withdrawn to the Mother Mykx to try and overcome the cold, which seeps into my bones. With the full strength of the Scourge Fleet, Okkeih has taken command and hunted down the remainder of their navy while launching marine raids across their unguarded coastline.  Cut off from resupply by both land and sea, the trapped Arakepruni soldiers were hunted down and wiped them out to the last Elf. Our victory is assured at this point, but my condition worsens so I fear I might not live to see it.  The Kult, in a proclamation from the Everpyre on Graxarr, has declared of 'Blood Xhaz'. We're a long way from the mindless bloodlust of the ancient Xhaz, but that's not what they are talking about. They've made the spread of Demon's Blood an unholy prerogative, so that Xhazob's presence might cross the world. Well, that's what we're already doing so I've got no complaints. Completing religious gets us reduced cost cultural conversion, which'll help in removing the 33% malus we get to tax income from our Demon's Blood ports. Deus Vult is also somewhat useful, as at the moment we have trouble taking continental territory so having a 'Achieve Superiority' (win battles) wargoal might be easier than the 'Take Capital' wargoal that Imperialism requires.  Their ports occupied, the Ruinborn have had to give us access to their subcontinent. For too long this corner of Aelantir has been free of our grip, and now the Blood Bringers are beginning to ship in fleets of powder to wealthy and hungry markets. Almost all of North Aelantir is caught in the chains of blood. Eordand has three trade nodes, so we get three ports to cover that. Once those are up and running, we just need two more to complete the associated missions, one in North Aelantir and one in South Aelantir.  I am not sure if I will survive the trip back to Ilzin Mykx, as thick blankets can't keep out the cold even after leaving the icy north, but I can say that I delivered us dominance over North Aelantir and the Divenhal, feats worthy of any Scourgemother. Okkeih is not the greatest frontline commander but he is cool-headed, cunning and has a natural ruler. He might be the Gnoll to finish our plans for Aelantir and come up with a way for us to advance into Cannor itself. To be continued… Votes These last few conflicts have demonstrated that sheer numbers can put a major wall up between the nation of Mykx and its rightful plunder. If there are too many enemies to even land, or if any beachhead is immediately set upon by one hundred thousand foes, then an invasion will falter no matter how determined. How should this be rectified? Economic – More money, funding more troops, going beyond the limits of the national budget. Trade – As above, but with more focus on expanding Demon's Blood ports to fund the army. Espionage – Spies can infiltrate, bringing forts down even faster and allowing us to spy on enemy troop movements to know exactly where to strike. Offensive – Make our warriors even stronger, so they may slaughter twice their number in each battle. Quantity – Drown them in bodies. We have the greatest capacity to move armies in the world, shipping another hundred thousand to secure a beachhead is nothing for the Fleet. Mercenary – We need not even risk Gnollish lives. Flaunt our wealth, hire from among our enemies, and have them wipe out each other. Vote below by clicking on the image. Up to two votes are allowed. Secondly, should we abandon Exploration ideas? This is not quite as open-and-shut as ditching Expansion was, as we have fully filled out the ideas and are getting some nice benefits from them. If we abandon, then we lose around 70 naval force limit (taking us over-capacity) from ideas (the other ideas aren't that relevant), 10% manpower recovery, 2% missionary strength and -15% liberty desire, 20% naval engagement (allows more ships into battle) from active policies, plus whatever policies we might get combining it with future ideas. If abandoned, then the second highest vote from above will replace it. Keep Exploration Abandon Exploration Vote below by clicking on the image. Voting will last 48 hours
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Aug 26, 2023 21:30
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Vote Results Offensive just about takes it. We will be focusing on improving our armies, and giving our generals some much needed combat pips. The second vote was very in favour of Keep Exploration, so no additional idea groups will be selected.  Coming up next, a rundown of the Great Powers as the last 100 years of the game kicks off. Sybot fucked around with this message at 23:15 on Aug 28, 2023 |
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Aug 28, 2023 22:49
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Sad that Mercenary didn't win, it'd be interesting from an RP perspective and be something I basically never see taken in EUIV LPs
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Aug 29, 2023 02:05
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habeasdorkus posted:Sad that Mercenary didn't win, it'd be interesting from an RP perspective and be something I basically never see taken in EUIV LPs I used Merc on a Lot Dekkang run, it's really one of the best nations to use those in.
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Aug 29, 2023 02:50
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habeasdorkus posted:Sad that Mercenary didn't win, it'd be interesting from an RP perspective and be something I basically never see taken in EUIV LPs Mykx would basically just be gnoll cocaine Outer Heaven at that point. What are the use cases for getting mercenary ideas anyway? I feel like they're basically only used in the starting few decades of a game before your force limit basically becomes infinite. Is it just for gimmick runs where you take advantage of NIs to get dirt cheap troops, basically?
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Aug 29, 2023 08:13
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RubricMarine posted:What are the use cases for getting mercenary ideas anyway? I feel like they're basically only used in the starting few decades of a game before your force limit basically becomes infinite. Is it just for gimmick runs where you take advantage of NIs to get dirt cheap troops, basically? Basically this, yeah. The classic would be Switzerland in vanilla EU4 but there's some other use cases as well. It gets pretty broken if you can stack enough bonuses.
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Aug 29, 2023 08:20
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In this case they would make great fodder troops given that our manpower and land forcelimit is complete trash, basically letting us have a core of marines and cannons and leaving everything else to mercs. Taking mercenary ideas also removes the problem where they tank our army quality by lowering our army professionalism. I've never actually taken them (though that's because I've only run like 3 campaigns since 1.35 dropped), but I'd like to try a dedicated mercenary build at some point.
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Aug 29, 2023 11:54
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Interlude: Great Powers of the 18th Century 1718 Excerpts from Rise of Hegemons, published in Tellum, 1843 AA  The eighteenth century since the Day of Ashen Skies was a period that saw the consolidation and expansion of the empires that have dominated recent history. A multipolar world began to emerge, with nearly every continent bearing one of the Great Powers. They would soon come to blows not for ideology, nor for faith, but for simple economic or military gain over one another. Even in the early years of the century, each sought to make themselves Hegemon of an aspect of the world. Mykx had already claimed the seas, while Lorent assembled its armies to claim the land and Bim Lau and the High Dominion fought for economic dominance of the flow of trade. Before we delve into the conflicts and fates of these mighty nations, we will see just what they were in this early phase.  The Kingdom of Lorent cannot be discussed without also addressing the Empire of Anbennar. With the Half-Elven sil Wex dynasty sitting atop the throne of both powers, and the wealthy Elven state of Celmaldor aligned with their interests, they hold a stranglehold over the economy of a continent. Matters of religion have long since passed, a reconciliation of sort between the Adeanic Lorentish and the Corinite Wexonards in the face of greater threats beyond the borders of Cannor. Considering themselves the true inheritors of Elvenkind, after the collapse of the fledgling Venaili colonisation effort, they have pushed to unify Aelantir under their rule, only to be stymied by the rise of the Scourge Empire. Despite this, they continue colonial efforts, with trading companies being established along the coast of Sarhal and Haless, and ongoing efforts to push deeper inland on continental Aelantir to establish an unbreakable presence that the Gnolls cannot touch. On their home front, Lorent is an absolute monarchy that nonetheless maintains significant privileges for the nobility in order to maintain control of its vast territory. So long as the King's decrees are followed, trade and thought are relatively free. Most civilised races are treated as equals, though the vast Halfling populations of the breadbasket Small Country are generally treated with disdain, and any 'monster' that finds itself in Lorentish borders is most likely to find themselves before a firing squad. Powerful, forward-thinking, and unified, Lorent stands against all who might threaten Cannor.  Arising from a mysterious portal, the Runelink, in the Dwarf Hold of Ovdal Lodhum, the Obsidian Legion struck out and seized the Serpentreach mountains, subjugating all the Dwarven reclaimer states in the region and purging any Orcs or Goblins they encountered. As their control extended further across the Serpentspine, they proclaimed the High Dominion, the extension of the Obsidian Empire that existed in the deep unknown depths of the Primeval Serpentspine. Though their focus has always been on rebuilding the ancient Dwarven empire in their own image, they have not stopped at the mountains. The Deepwoods have been invaded and are in the process of being clearcut to fuel their industry, large portions of Bulwar have been seized to act as buffer zones, and Dwarven explorers have taken to the seas to discover what the world beyond is like. Unlike the isolationist Dwarves of old, they have shown a great interest in understanding and innovation. Humans and Gnomes are welcome within their walls, and artificers work to industrialize the nation further. The High Dominion is ruled by the Obsidian Council, which is made up of the five greatest families who passed through the Runelink, in the name of the Runefather who has been interred in the Obsidian Throne indefinitely. All decisions by the Council must be unanimous, and all citizens must follow them without question. No other faith is tolerated within their borders, with all inhabitants of all races expected to show their faith to the Runefather in temples that are springing up both within the holds and on the surface territories. Mountain and surface alike, the High Dominion's goal is that all praise the Obsidian Throne.  At one time, the Empire of Bim Lau was just one of many states that sprung up in the wake of the collapse of the Phoenix Empire. Faced with the strength of Bhuvauri to their west, and the Command and Xiaken to their north, the lords of Bim Lau found routes for expansion to the south and east. With their heartland guarded by lines of forts and their northern flank secured by the Phokao mountains, there was nothing to prevent them from bringing all of southern Yanshen under their control. They are builders before anything else. Centuries maintaining the great Necropolis of Bim Lau and the countless temples that dot Haless have instilled a sense of architecture that extends across their nation. Vast organised farms and plantations produce food enough for millions with room left over for cash crops, while workshops and manufactories see the early days of industrialization in the east. Their land is covered in forts, each garrisoned not just by the living, but by the spirits of warriors long dead, defending what they have built. While the Emperor seated in Bim Lau rules with an iron fist, he has reached an accord with the nobility tasked with maintaining each of the multitude of forts across the nation. Together, they build up and prepare to claim Haless for themselves.  Building itself up as the Harimari Raj collapsed, Bhuvauri rapidly became the predominant power of Rahen. As the Command imploded, they advanced north. As the Jadd Empire fell to invasion, they advanced west. Everywhere they marched, they brought with them their policy. Hierarchy is slavery, all are slaves of the state, and this is the principle that we run our state by. The Adesadata is merely the slave above all other slaves, with a convoluted series of committees and electors used to select the most meritous candidate and put them in the ultimate position of authority whether they want it or not. The same is true from top to bottom, slaves owning slaves, slaves assigned by merit, regardless of race or religion all must do their duty. It has produced an oddly egalitarian society as a result; all are treated equally, one way or another. Though Bhuvauri powerful and wealthy, Bim Lau remains a thorn in their side. To combat them, they have drafted up vast numbers of slave soldiers and spent inordinate amounts of money on mercenaries making an army larger than any bar Lorent or the High Dominion. A coalition of nations from Yanshen opposes them, so for the moment they contend with feasting on the Jadd remnants. Should they claim Haless, liberty on the continent will die.  As Escann recovered from the Greentide, it was faced with a challenge of a different kind. The Corintide, Orcs riled into religious fervour in the name of Corin, swept across the Human reclaimers and consumed them all before descending upon the Empire of Anbennar itself. When the Corintide failed to make significant gains within the Empire, beyond the Emperor converting, they descended upon one in the Escanni Wars of Consolidation until only one stood at the top. The Kingdom of Khozrugan reigns over Escann, and seeks conquest even further abroad. They might be considered an army with a state. The warg-riders of the Rotcleaver tribe were the forebears of the kingdom, a legacy that remains to this moment. With cavalry as the predominant component of their army, they present unparalleled mobility in the age of slow-moving blocks of infantry and artillery. This has allowed them to stand up against much larger and stronger forces such as Lorent and the High Dominion, though the question remains how relevant warg-riders will remain as technology advances. A careful balance has been struck, as the nation has modernized, between the needs of the army and the needs of the rest of the nation. The estates are given authority over their aspects of the nation, whether that be faith, economy, or administration, while the mage-king rules from warg-back. Ironically, despite the worship of Corin, Humans are seen as inferior along with most other races, and a policy of Orcish settlement of conquered lands has been instituted, slowly turning Escann and beyond green. Another tide may yet arise, and bring Cannor to crisis once more.  Another army with a state, but in a different way to the Orcs. The city of Jiangdu was an ancient centre of military theory, with the famous treatise the Art of War being written by Lian Zhu in 496AA. Despite this, it never managed to become more than a middling state through the centuries until it was pushed to the very edge of destruction, all lands beyond the city lost. The army seized power, and retaliated, advancing rapidly to become the strongest power in North Yanshen, defeating the Oni of the Demon Hills and participating in the destruction of the Command. Having forged a coalition with Bim Lau and the remaining independent states of Yanshen, the Stratocratic Republic of Jiangdu stand as the primary line of defence against foreign invasion. Many of the Hobgoblin Command have been integrated into their command structure, and even the demonic Oni have been recruited to guard the western passes in their territory. Despite military rule, life within their borders is free and fair. Civilians have full voting rights for their local leaders, free trade and innovation is encouraged, and wealth flows down the Yanhe river to the allied ports of Tianlou and Feiten. Yanshen has been unified in a way, not by force as one might expect from such warriors, but by prosperity and diplomacy. Can such a harmonious balance survive the coming century?  When the Day of Ashen Skies ravaged Aelantir, the Tachyend descended into anarchy. It was only in the hills of Larankar that any order was to be found among brutality and cruelty. Carefully guarding their wealth, they lasted out the dark centuries and ultimately returned to reconquer the Tachyend in the name of peace. Such peace would not last forever, as Lorent, eager to secure its place in the New World, struck at them repeatedly. Aided by the Myxkic hegemony over the oceans, the Amarayam of Larankar has held against Cannorian aggression, and even advanced, seizing the Kheionai colonies to their west. The Larankhara view is that any means are necessary to secure their independence and peace. When they descended into the Tachyend they meted out justice that was just as brutal as the anarchy that came before, but the survivors of the initial invasion prospered until the Lorentish invasion brought war back to their shores. Now they are once again on a war footing, ravaging Lorentish settlements wherever they find them, and seizing once-friendly territory from their fellow natives. At one time, the nation was dominated by the wealthy Elven refugees from the collapse of the Tachyend, but over time their privileges were curtailed and now the nation as an absolute monarchy driven to defend itself by any means. Though, recently the rulers have turned to innovation and exploration to seek new ideas for their own defence. If they can survive the incursion of Lorent and the predations of Mykx, they could come to dominate Aelantir.  Of course, there were many other powers competing, nipping at the heels of the Great Powers to prove themselves in the new century. As nations unified, hegemonies arose, and the siren song of Demon's Blood spread around the world, who would emerge atop it? We know the answer now, but at that moment, much remained in flux. To be continued…
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Aug 29, 2023 21:08
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I thought we didn't have enough money for mercenaries. I thought wrong.
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Aug 29, 2023 21:40
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I'm honestly surprised by Jiangdu managing to blob that much! It never manages to go beyond OPM on most of my playthroughs.
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Aug 29, 2023 22:17
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Chapter Nineteen: Tipping Point 1718-1728 Somewhere in the Inner District, Ilzin Mykx, 1718 The door slammed shut, crunching as it squeezed into a too-small frame. Like the rest of the block, it had been built quickly and by the hands of slaves who cared for little more than meeting their quotas. Inside the air hung heavy, the scents of dozens of Gnolls crammed into housing just barely better than slave quarters. Other smells mixed in, a hint of races, oil, smoke, and somewhere beneath it something that smelt like glitter looked, caused by none other than a small cache of Damestear hidden in the building. Khusa would have to get Garut to do something about that. If a Gnoll with any amount of authority got a whiff of it, they'd have Kult enforcers bashing down the door within the hour. She growled out a little tune as she made her way down the hallway, some kind of shanty she'd heard the sailors singing as she'd made today's run. Her backpack was filled with junk, or so it would look to the trained eye, but her real prize was wrapped around her belt. "You smell of blood," Moukxac said, stepping from a doorway. He was just about the same height as her, which summed up her whole life really. Always small for her height and gender, she'd found her place at the bottom of the pecking order. It was a miracle that she had devoured her siblings in the litter instead of the other around, though she also thought that perhaps Xhazob had given her the strength for a reason. That was why she squared up to him with confidence and a grin on her snout. "Shanked a Blood Bringer admin guy in an alley," she said, patting the deceased's belt and its precious cargo she'd taken as a trophy. "Won't they notice he's gone?" Moukxac asked. "One guy, probably not," she replied, "there's thousands with number-smarts in the city, they won't care about one missing." If there was one thing to be said, it was that every Gnoll had to walk the same streets, deal with the same dangers. Being a priest, or a high-ranking Blood Bringer, or the Scourgemother, merely earned you an adoring crowd that served as protection. If one got overconfident, walked into the wrong alley, underestimated a runt of a Gnoll, then it could all be over for them "Besides," she continued, "this is what really made him tick." At that, she took one of the pouches from the belt and held it up for Moukxac. "Powder?" he said, peering at it, "we've got plenty." "No, this is the good stuff," Khusa said, jiggling the pouch, "the powder they sell to us just makes you dull, complacent, and looking more at the demons swirling round your head than what's going on in the material world. But this, not intended for our snouts, it sharpens your mind, lets the host whisper to you, gives you ideas and knowledge you couldn't imagine." "Huh," Moukxac said, reaching for the pouch. Khusa hesitated for a moment, then gave it to him. Hoarding it was her first instinct, but that was against everything she was working towards. He was still learning to read after spending his life so far as a manual labourer, so that little boost might be enough to push his literacy to something functional. He followed her as she continued to the back of the building, where a couple of walls had been knocked through to make space for a workshop. A couple of other Gnolls were in the room, machining gun parts and assembling artificery trinkets, but the bulk of the room was left to a large workbench where a grey-green Goblin stood atop it tinkering with a strange contraption. "Garut, I can smell Damestear," Khusa said. "Not for much longer," Garut grunted in reply. "Almost done with refining it." "Is that what this does?" she asked, stepping up to the workbench. "Ever heard of Korashi?" Garut responded to her question with a question. At her shrug, he continued, "pierces right through magic. Shield, sigil, blessings, prayers, none of them will save you." "Sounds good for assassination, if we were up against mages," Moukxac said. "C'mon, take a sniff and think about it," Khusa said, "you've seen warriors bulked up on the Invocation of Blood, that's just as magic as some Cannorian greybeard waving a wand." "A sniff?" Garut's ears perked up at the word. "You found some?" "That's right," Khusa said, tossing him half of the pouches she had left. He caught them out of the air, his tools clattering to the floor, and stared at them in wonder. The latest in several generations of engineer-slaves brought over from the Goblin settlements in Haraf, she had rescued him from a pillory where he'd been left to starve to death for daring to innovate with artificery. The Kult did not look kindly on technology that was not under the control of one of the three big factions. Now, he had all the room for experimentation that he needed, and was about to be fuelled by some of the best Demon's Blood in the city. With a loud snort, he practically buried his nose in the first pouch, then stumbled backwards and fell off the workbench. "Of course!" he squeaked, "Hellfire, once lit, is unaffected by Korashi. A double charge, half and half. Need to experiment." As he began to gather up his tools, Khusa set down her pack of junk for him to root through, then settled down in a musty chair surrounded by books she'd liberated from various places on the island. Moukxac followed her and watched as she pulled out a book, took a good long sniff of Demon's Blood herself, and slipped her claws between the pages. "Will it really help you pull ideas from their books?" he asked her. Khusa held up a paw, quieting him. Whispers filled the air, the floor seemed to radiate with heat as though the Pits themselves lay just below them, and the pages flicked between her claws. She felt something, a hand on her shoulder, a thought that lanced through all others, a sensation of firing roaring through her veins. The next moment, the book lay open in her lap. On the page, the words blurred and her eyes honed in on a single phrase. "A Revolution in Thought," she read out, before starting to write her own notes onto the page, "we can't just win by killing a priest here or there. Mykx needs to be reforged in flame – in bloodflame. Demon's Blood is the answer. If only everyone could see as I can. They could see the contradictions, the weaknesses, the corruption that underlies everything." She looked up at Moukxac. "Get me a pen. Everyone needs to know. Slave, free, sailor, smuggler, farmer. We will spread the word of the Bloodflame Revolution." Excerpts from the writings of Khusa, Bloodflame Revolutionary  The first contradiction, though far from the greatest, is the fear of the power of artifice. The Cannorians wield it to ever greater degrees, their cities and armies becoming marvels of technology, while the Kult stamps down on any research within our borders and the Fleet is left to import or smuggle in the inventions their need to tear down modern fortifications. This is because of fear. Fear of what would happen to the institutions they have built if they let invention, fuelled by Xhazob's whispers, spark across the minds of the nation.  Not a contradiction, but corruption and greed. Demon's Blood has the potential to uplift us all, and yet the Fleet acts at the beck and call of the Blood Bringers, invading and opening up markets to keep demand and thus prices high. The newest conquest off the coast of Larankar will add millions of souls to Xhazob's plate once the powder starts to flow, but that money will go into the pockets of greedy bosses instead of bolstering production ever further.  They even seek to push into the dry interior of Haraf, hungry for markets, when there is a market right under their noses eager to be allowed to taste and feel the true power of what they've created. Why? Fear, again. Fear of what the common Gnoll could do if allowed to use Xhazob's power to elevate themselves, instead of marching to the tune of the Kult and Fleet. It's a little annoying, there aren't enough coastal trade nodes to complete the mission to spread Demon's Blood ports in North Aelantir, so we have to conquer something inland.  The greatest contradiction is, in fact, slavery. When the Vanbury Guild came to Aelantir, they sought knowledge and power from the smote ruins of the Precursors, but we turned them into cowed dullards to work our fields and mines. Vanburia could be the centre of industrial power with the discovery of coal, but it will forever be a backwater. We go to great lengths to secure slaves, be they Humans, or Elves, or others with a weak constitution, but waste them in mindless labour or feed them to Xhazob's unending hunger. The path to true knowledge, and true power, needs insights from all.  The Fleet, perhaps the only truly honest power within the nation. They protect us from Cannor's imperialism, secure the flow of Demon's Blood around the world, and deliver our foes to Xhazob's depths. Mykx had the right idea, making a nation out of her ragtag collection of fugitives, it is only later that the rot began to set in. It is similarly honest against our own. The captains have the power, and so they rule like kings. The Scourgefather is the highest captain, and thus the highest king, but with added insult of acting like they are parenting us by keeping their boot on our throat and our hands away from the good powder.  Even in the midst of war, the wheels of pointless waste continue. The Humans settled in the eastern Leechdens have been enslaved as one to work in the fields and on the production lines of Demon's Blood. They served the Magisterium. Who knows what fantastical spells they might have conjured if only given the chance to serve Xhazob.  While lives are wasted on pointless fights, the greater Lorentish army marches up from their war with Larankar. Reliant on old tactics and captured weapons, our landlubber warriors do not stand a chance in an even fight. Our emphasis on the Fleet has only exacerbated our weaknesses. All it took was them sneaking through to fight in a different war, while we were distracted in the icy north, and all our vessels are useless.  If Larankar are to defend themselves from further aggression, they must take up the Demon's Blood we are supplying them. Only that will give them the strength and knowledge to thrive in this new age of inspired technology. It ought to be our national imperative to grant this chance to all the people of the world, not merely conquer them for our own gain.  The Fleet are left to pick up the pieces of the disaster on the mainland. It ought to put a bit of humility into the captains to scurry from port to port, only fighting when the enemy are outnumbered. It is not honourable, but we Gnolls were never honourable. We must bring the crews of these vessels around to our way of thinking under the snouts of the captains. Their experience will be invaluable when the time comes.  The International Gommo is one of the great intellectual supporters of our Revolution. Gnomes are famed for their innovation, their willingness to push the boundaries of knowledge, and their freedom of thought. Many of the Gommo members who have remained within Mykx' borders despite the crackdowns by the Kult have been crucial in spreading the word, and once we have them hooked on Demon's Blood, they are able to take our innovations back to their kin.  Ilzin Mykx is abuzz with Dokkuat's writings on a social contract, where food, shelter, and powder ought to be provided to all inhabitants, and the Scourgefather and his council should answer to the greater mass of people below them. His words echo many of the thoughts that Xhazob has granted me, and makes me wonder whether he has his own source of high-quality Demon's Blood, or an even greater connection to the whispers of the Pits. I must seek him out.  Inspired by the words of myself, Dokkuat, and the Gommo, the slaves of the city have risen up. The streets run red with blood, but the administrative district and harbour are still held and it is only a matter of time before the Fleet arrives to shut down the rebellion. We have to leave, before Kult enforcers come through and conduct a thorough purge.  We've settled in newly-occupied Haraf as our base of operations. The region is filled with sailors and warriors looking to settle and escape the tyranny of their commanders, fresh slaves filled with resentment for their situation, and a whole subcontinent that is being opened up to the wonders of Demon's Blood. The perfect boiling pot to build a cross-sectional rebellion.  A sign of the Scourgefather's slipping influence. Just over the Cliffs of Ruin from Haraf, Neratica has lost most of its territory to Moonhaven. Another contradiction, or really just plain corruption and greed, is that protection contracts are not worth the paper they are written on. Those who embrace the Blood ought to be protected, not used to extract resources and thrown away when inconvenient.  They think that we just need to keep advancing, push through the hard times no matter how many lives it costs. That, as long as they shout the Scourgefather or Scourgemother's name as they die before the Cannorian cannons, they will have done their duty. The truth is, Xhazob does not care how you die; we all end up in his gullet either way. A life spent listening to his words and changing the world inside a workshop or with a pen is no less meaningful than spending it throwing yourself onto a bayonet.  It does work, to an extent, but each life lost is one more that could have produced something great. The Lorentish forces were trapped in South Aelantir and attriting away without supply, thanks to the Fleet. They did not need to be hounded across the continent to secure our victory.  While we fled to Haraf, Dokkuat settled on the Trickster Isle, a much-overlooked island that is mostly rural plantations. There, he was able to find revolutionary support among the put-upon settlers and slaves, who suffer more and more as the Blood Bringers take control of the agriculture and turn it all to producing Demon's Blood precursors. This would be no problem, but the people do not get a taste of what they produce unless they pay exorbitant rates to their masters.  The new Scourgemother offers up more of the same as her predecessors. Mindless expansion to fuel the hoards of herself and her closest allies, while the rest of us live in squalor. It is clear that we cannot expect things to change simply by hoping the right quasi-parental figure guides us. This is a fight for the people, to rise up and seize the wealth and drugs that they have bled and sweat for.  At last, the war is over, but nothing will change as a result. The Scourgemother will launch another campaign somewhere across the world, one of the Cannorians will take their shot at our territory, and the endless cycle will continue. It is time to break that.  Discontent is rising, murmurs of mutiny fill the lower decks of the Fleet, the words of Xhazob linger in the ears of all who have tasted of his Blood. Freedom and knowledge lie just within our reach, and together we have the power to tear down the rotten and corrupt system that generations of tyrants have built in Mykx' name. The time for a Revolution of Action, the dawn of the Bloodflame Revolution! To be continued… Vote A shorter update but for good reason. I did not expect to become the Centre of Revolution in the slightest, but this could present a completely different path for us to turn down. Simply put, do we embrace the Revolution and become the Revolutionary Target, or remain an empire of pirates and slaves? Hopefully this update has given a bit of flavour to the sort of nation we would become. Doing so would technically break the mission tree as well, but I can work around that, either by messing with the revolutionary government reforms to do what we need, or editing the missions themselves. All for the Bloodflame Revolution! All for the Scourgemother! Vote below by clicking on the image. Voting will last 72 hours.
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Sep 2, 2023 11:29
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Forward the Bloodflame Revolution! Enough with living by laws past down from Xhazob, the blood-dimmed tide will wash away the old world, and Halann will be shaken to it's foundation!
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Sep 2, 2023 15:15
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Will the revolution give us communist hell trains?
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Sep 2, 2023 21:08
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Soylent Pudding posted:Will the revolution give us communist hell trains? Trains are for landlubbers. We're going for ironclads fuelled by the fires of the Pits. I've edited the government reform files so we can keep the Demon's Blood Export Port and Bounty Hunting reforms if Revolution does win the vote. Luckily those two reforms were sitting on tiers where they wouldn't impact Revolutionary reforms.
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Sep 2, 2023 21:46
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Soylent Pudding posted:Will the revolution give us communist hell trains? You've heard of anarcho-communism, now it's time for narco-communism!   
Grizzwold fucked around with this message at 22:56 on Sep 2, 2023 |
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Sep 2, 2023 22:50
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Why would a guy called "The All-Powerful" write a book against social inequalities?
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Sep 3, 2023 00:14
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Hell yeah, it would be a shame to waste the opportunity for demonic narco-republicanism
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Sep 4, 2023 02:17
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| # ? May 29, 2024 09:12 |
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When have Goons ever decided to try and smother Revolution? I, for one, look forward to a Great Society, where freedom from Want of More Drugs has been achieved.
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Sep 4, 2023 03:14
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