Federation Crackdown?

[DeVrie]

This forum has become eerily silent. I hope squeaks & co weren't dragged to a Federation "education" center.

[Kaiser Leonidas]

He he he...

Nah, there has been a lot of work done recently. Most of it's been on the coding/scripting side though so it's a bit difficult to show off compared to new units. But rest assured, DragonDawn is still most definitely alive!!

[Squeaks]

Oh, don't worry about that. It's kind of Rome 2 response in a way; we didn't think that there would be much interest during the Rome 2 'Honeymoon'. For varied reasons none of us have got tied up in that, so we've taken the opportunity to get stuff done.

There's a lot going on, and it's mostly boring. The basic conversion into a full mod is happening...replacing 2d, coding in names, text events, buildings, sounds, unit abilities...there's a lot of that. Removing agents and writing the others in as mod stuff rather than vanilla, having to move on to proper unit descriptions. Even though the minimod is only 9 factions, it still needs tons doing, all of which will make the big one easier too, later.

I think we're going to need testers fairly soon; at least for battle-stuff.

I still have some model work to do, but not that much....I kind of keep making work for myself, but I have a defined end in sight...it's crept up; Naugiri will probably have 13 units or so, when we went for 8/9 at first, so I've made more work for me and everyone else. We're looking at settlements too, in battles. Basically, most of the fun stuff is done, but a lot of other bits are needed and being done.

I can stuff some bits up....uhm, here's the base story line for Principality/Fennweyr, should the Principality choose this way forwards (they will have about 5 options at the start, each provoking differing results entirely)....

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Long winters had passed, and the land stood unbroken. Near the Willows on the edge of Beardlhen Heath, sat a band of men, scarecrow figures, their Gallows Spears held at loose angles, wicker shields bound with runes of strength and flexing, spears smoking softly with a black mist that twirled in patterns, occasionally showing faces of the Faerlindh, the fey or faerie folk – lesser creatures of mischief and bad dreams; even the wind seemed to carry their voices,tinkling peals of spirits and creatures whose diminutive size belied their trueness. Caerdhwhyllan alone stood, and his hands were red, painted with the blood of the Southerners, the knights and fools of the Prince of Steel, then tattooed in the same shade of colour by the Bravest Wives. The Widowed Wives were another thing entirely, as their men had been cut to pieces in previous wars. This war, the war coming,was to make many women widows, and the men of the south would find that the blackened blades of the Widows could carve a trail of death as large as any of the Eastern Lords' greatest bowmen; those that wove death with six foot bows of that strangest wood.

The mens' eyes scanned the open ground to the south. To most,these lands had little to hide in, but these men knew better thanthis. They kept vigil, and the Candles grew low; when they went out,the Wights would travel the mists, seeking their victims, to embrace them, to become their Dead Friends. Much was dark in the Fennweyr,but also much was of light. As with all life, there existed much of both, but the Fenns were under the guard of the Greater Wilds, and these spirits – such as the Oak King and Holly Queen – were on the side of the Plaidh Clans, the folk of Willow, Heather, Heath and Moor, and they talked together, protected one another and died together if needed. Caerdhwhyllan knew there would be much of the dying to come, for he had seen the roads moving, as if ants crawled across a stone.

Before, the Pipers of the Goat had seen the men in steel, shining with white fire, their eyes unyielding, compelling, and their hearts black as pitch, dripping with lies and hate, their own master blinded and bound, until they were broken by the Painted Man, left to dangle in a sack of broken pieces. These men had been the Seraphair, the Eyes of the One god, the Church of the Only, and where they came,blood would follow. Last it had been theirs, but they had returned,and the Lords of the Principal North rode with them, as did some of the men in shining mail, men of the Prince himself, Pawns and Knights of the Chequered City. The Prince was not with them, which showed some hope, for if he had come, the Clans and the Fennweyr would have to kill him too, and that was Forbidden. Shedding Royal Blood was not something that creatures of the Old Magic did, for it was possessed of power of it's own, despite the nature of the man who bore it.

Many men had asked of the Queen, for she still remembered the Fennweyr – nights when she rode with unicorns, sang with the lesser spirits of stream and brook; daughters of the Old Man of the rivers in the Peaks, and her long past had unravelled in mists of twinkling beauty. She had held back the Prince, many said, and it was a handful of Lords that called their levies, joined by soldiers of the Only,thousands of men, fevered with holiness. Bright mail hid darkened eyes, and blacker hearts, and these men, who preached of the impurity of the Fennweyr, or glamours and spells that held men in thrall to Darkness – they may as well sat before a mirror, and talked of themselves.

The air grew warm, and there were the smallest lights in the mists, twinkling, joined by the silvered tinkling songs of the little sisters. You could see the blurring lights where their wings beat so fast. The others of the Gallows' Men stood now, and they smiled. A line of the Druids had appeared on the clay roads, the 'Roads With Power', as opposed the stone monstrosities that the southerners built. Amongst them were others. Hundreds of Clansmen, many of the Wives and Widows, and, slowly, Others appeared: Dancers of the Forest Goat danced in peals of pipe and laughter, shambling giants moved in rolling gaits, some with twin heads, deep in conversation – these,of course, would never fight, as they could never stop arguing.Deeper still, Others came, until, at last, the area was empty of hidden wonders, and they danced and laughed until the candles went out.

As the lights ended their dance, the air grew cold; for the bad things would come, to a court of Fools and Jesters, would the Spirits of the Unlight come, and none wished to see them so. War, however,made it unavoidable, and so they must. Hissing began in the mists,and shadows moved in disharmony, cutting tendrils of moisture apart,to land in silk upon the heath. Here and there, the tiniest creatures moved to mend these tears in the Fenn, and one or two stepped into the Unlight, to crunch and squeal softly. Most, however, were not old enough to forget the last War, the last binding
of the Old Magics, Light and Unlight, and they did not step beyond their demesne. Even with war on the air, there were rules; until the parchment was signed, the rules would hold, each to their own, eachwithout the other, each bound in an eternal displacement.

There began a sick light; marsh wisps, Candle Wights, using trickery to lead men from safe roads, or to steal their children or take them to drown in shallow pools. These gathered by the hundred;the wisps bouncing and burning, the Wights shining a sickly green,pale and hollow. The Piping began, rising, sharp notes, becoming dischordant, notes scraping at peoples' ears and jaws. Comfort was lost, and fear began to ride the moist air, and the light blazed,opening the night, for the blue sun of the Unlight to come forth –and come they did.

Gaer Bolga rode their horned mounts, great Ettins of the Moors climbed from the Pitch Hollows, and the Holly Queen sent her hosts from sleep; early indeed, for the warmth of night could not be dispelled entirely, and the Oak King stood in reign still. They were lovers, but they stood together few times in a year, and they had dreadfully different temprements – for war, the Pact Hosts would march, and their Master and Mistress would hold hands and smile; atleast for a short time they would blossom in love.

Shadows flapped through the air, and huge shapes crunched to the moss and peat. The Unlighted had come. The Holly Queen's hosts were in full, and the Dusken Piper rattled his bone-flutes and and sang in a high pitched voice, ending in a scream that made the Widows of the Clansmen scream in loss, their husbands' deaths felt as keenly now,just for those seconds, as when they were first made into memories.
The Long Court convened, Druids, Spirits, Fey, cursed and wonderful, all gathered in a moot for war. In a sacred period, six hours, the war would be decided, bargains made and deaths assured. A patch of Mulberries was traded by a Heath Clan to an Ettin, to scratch his back, in return for his arm in war; far more cunning plans were laid and bargained, broken and remade, until a consensus was formed. At the height of the sixth hour, everything and everyone vanished, save the human bands, clustered around their new King, Caerdhwhyllan. The light blazed, then darkness pulsed, and the stone tables vanished, eerie laughter trailing for mere seconds after,before the starkness of the Heaths became eternal once more.

Oh, and I've decided to write civil war as a possibility for the Empire, after moaning for ages about it.

[DeVrie]

@ Kaiser, Squeaks:

Thanks for sharing the updates and the tale.

[Wolfsblut]

I am a silent lurker since a long time and it is nice to read that not happened what i was afraid of when i saw that it became a little silent here.
This mod is looking absolut great and i will gladly wait another few years just to see it get born and prosper.

[Sol_Man]

Just keep doing what you are doing guys, we'll be here!

[Squeaks]

Thanks both of you

It's happening still, just I've been less involved in sticking things up and all that. However, you forced me into doing something for you, so I did a new version of the Federation symbol.....the 3 Empire ones need doing now, poss Iryn Thaan, then that's all redone, save ilien who doesn't need it at all.



Neko's working on a big Selediri thing, which he's putting together....we do things in kind of cluster-groups....you should see that soon. That should help out...

[Squeaks]

There's far better work being done, but I just added some fed building info...

FEDERATION - penal colonies building tree

'Reaffirmation Camps'

lvl 1 Segregation Details

The first process in reaffirming Federal citizens whose thought-patterns are held to account are the Segregation Camps, where they will be allowed to reaffirm their loyalty and expulsion of wayward thoughts and beliefs from beyond the borders, where the bloated icons of morallly corrupt overseers rule with a mesmerising mantra. SUch things can be forgiven ina fervour of work and honest displays of the rebuking of such things welcome the citizen back into the folds of free-thought and sanctity. SOme do not achieve this again, but the vast majority are given a new life, away from the people they knew before their falling. (work-camps)


Lvl2 Educational Facility

The citizens most perverted by foreign propaganda cannot give their corrupted loyalties up so easily. Such people need the benefit of re-education - a gentle process of the offering of friendship that will bring even the most wayward back to the fold of the freedom our Federation offers. Many choose to serve for their freely given admission of fervour in defence of the ways of Emancipation, and fight on our front lines against those who corruption managed to erode their faith in our family. The front lines are strengthened by those that know the evil their enemy brings them to this, to be returned to a safe existence after their fervour is spent.

First recruitment of Penal Battalion units.

lvl 3 Bonding Facilities

Many who have have learned the bitter truth of the enemy choose to serve for a longer period before being given back their freedom, claimed by a higher position in the ranks of the greatest of servants of our people. Not only are they brought joyously back, but they are elevated by their devotion!



lvl 4 Foreign Agencies

Those who achieve the highest honours amongst those that understandably subtle corruptions are sent abroad, agents of our people, justly feared by our foes. These men and women carry war to other lands, to lessen their corruption and brings others to aid us in our struggle!

Income from Slavery; men and women sold to Ashapur and other places, where 'their piteous lies can be ignored for their own good'.


---------------

The incubus and succubus order buildings...

lvl1 Monastery of the Red Moon

In our fight to remain the only truly free nation, and to demonstrate our strength to the Oppressors abroad, it is the duty of trained and disciplined men and women to tend to our citizens' own needs and protect them from their own, impure, thoughts. If one begins to see concepts like love or individuality above the State, or secretly harbour leanings towards 'religion' or faith elsewhere, then correction is necessary, to help and re-educate, even challenge such things. Sadly, sometimes and entire family or village may harbour sentiments, and there must be those who are above others in their discipline and steadfast conviction to aid those whose minds do not follow such focus. These are the men and women of the Tempters, who are willing to live in the filth of outside ways - both within and without our homes - to expose and protect us all.

lvl2 Monastery of the Silver Moon

Where the wiles of lust and of women fail, we train those amongst the best to become weapons of war, capable themselves of great skill in slaughter. Visiting these men, the Incubi, upon our foes catches those that rise above the squalor of most of their ilk. They need removing, as the head of a snake from a smoking wound to society, such as they are. When decency fails, the Incubi assail with blade and belief, the two a weapon few can defend against! The Federation stands strong!

lvl3 Receptory of the Secret Orders

Here, the Secret Orders carry constant vigil. Their knowledge is vast, their power great and they alone read the propaganda of the enemy, to better understand the deceit by which they live. Here, collected by the best among our citizens, the schemes of the foe are unravelled, and the nest of hate they instill within our people are broken open and burned in praise to the greatness of the Federal Order.

lvl4 Exhibition Chancel

Under the towers of our men and women of the Secret Orders, the Incubus and Succubus, there are greater things at work. Magic, as men call it, is unnatural in it's pliancy and manipulation by evil. It's workings need to be understood, and here we control such things, and we seek to unravel the greatest mysteries, in order to better combat them. Avatars, the Elves call the greatest. We call them Agents of Villiany, and we cut them as surgeons, to expel their humour and dissipate their power and hold over men. With this comes danger, but we have men who carry the knowledge of centuries. Many have died in this endless task, and more will, but a vital blow to our most seditious foes, which we should celebrate!

[Squeaks]

Whilst thinking about everything, I wrote this tonight, as it just decided to be written

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

The Woman that Danced in the moonlight.

In the first days of Man, there was a village in the plains around an old and twisted wood. The screeches of baensidhe and lights of the marsh wisps would move the night air, but none would come to visit, nor would the pipers steal children. Rather, the children that were lost came home again, with tales of smiling and benign guardians leading them away from the easier paths, to find their loved ones again.


There was a woman in the village, who could work with grasses and herbs, could make medicenes that cured ills and hurts, and whose advice brought healthy children and kept some alive when all thought they would die. She was golden haired and beautiful, and her village thought themselves blessed to have her. There were tales that she spoke to the creatures of the wild lands about the houses, and that she danced with the Kings and Queens of the fey folk, whose interests in humans were meant to be for evil, yet whose friendship brought mulberries into fullness in the heaths, brought cows with creamy milk, and kept the little darks away.


There were tales, of Walkers in the mist, and of black things that bound mens' hearts with darkness. Power brings faith, and the weak will follow a pitch darkness with the same fervour as the purest light. There was a leader of these darks, these Walkers, and he walked in shadow so deep that the air screeched in his passing.


One day, he came to the village, and the well-woman was not there. He came with a great black cart, and he stood eight feet at the shoulder, armoured in black, a great blade edged with ice, and a hundred followers at his side. The people could do little, and lights gathered at the edge of the twsited oaks, wailing in fear and at their inability to aid the poor people. Dark swallows Light, and all know it.


As the last of children were being loaded, and the beheading of the adults began, she returned, with wind in her wake, her beauty mesmerising, yet a set to her that showed no smile. 'What do you do with these children, Lord?' She asked, and her demeanour was of a servant. 'He smiled, if that is what it was, and said 'I see you, beauty, and you deserve a truth. The truth is, these things around me were children once, and now they are mine, to do with as I wish. They will die for my whim, or kill for it equally well'.


She cried 'Oh, well show me this, for I have never seen such obedience in men, and I wish to see it before you take more!'


The creature gestured, and an armoured darkness stepped forwards, reversing it's blackened blade, to kill itself, without a single sound and a bow to it's Master. 'Oh!' She cried. 'More, more...I want more! More and you shall have me at your side'. He gestured, and another died. She danced for him, with abandon, and he showed her more, as she moved ever closer. As she finished her dance, she was inches from him.


'I will show my Power, for yours is the greater, yet mine is a light to savour and devour, which I will freely give you, as you have shown me something of memory today!' The Walker bowed his head and his breath rasped.


'Come, little Darks! Dance with me, blow me kisses in the moonlight!' She danced with each, and her light shone. Little by little, they grew still, at the end of each dance, and their eyes were softened, just a little piece of light in their terrible, stolen Dark. As she stopped, the Walker reached his hand to her. 'A last dance, and you will be my Queen, and together we will own the world!'


She danced to him, and her hand brushed his. She glowed like a star, but her smile hardened. 'It is you who will be bound, my Great Dark! I am a Light, but also a Dark, for a whole is not true without the two.'


The Walker shouted then, a sound that sent all to their knees but the woman, who stood calmly. He gestured, but nothing happened. She smiled ever the broader, and the hint of darkness in her flickered, but was not strong, just defiant, and with intent on his pitch soul. 'You have shown me your power, and it is nothing'. He gestured. 'No, Dark, you have shown me that your peons will die for you. Fully half have died, and they are yours no more'. He shouted, and it was the blast of grating ice, cracking and grinding, a wave of power. 'You have let me show mine, and half have been touched by peace. They will not follow you ay more'. She spoke the truth. He was alone, and she glided towards him, as his eyes glowed red. He raised his sword, and he struck at her.


The Woman laughed, as the blade stopped an inch from her face. 'You have shown all fo the Dark, but my little you have not yet seen, for you hungered for the death of my light, only that!' She faced him, and her hands rose, flames rolling along them, blue fire, like the marsh Wisps have, whipping and twirling. Her face was a snarl, as she burst into a pillar of blue flame, and her voice crackled. 'Great Dark, Walker, I bind you, for your name is known to me, and there are those who whisper it with fear and with hate. You will fall, and your life will release those you have bound, for you have forgotten that all have light AND dark. Your little piece of Light is what gives me power upon you, not your dark!' Her hands rippled, and the fire struck him even as his sword rose a second time. A burst of Light rose, and tore free from tendrils that sought to hold it, but it was drawn into the woman, and released, to flow into his servants.


With a quailing scream, he vanished, and with tears of joys, those bound came to life once more, freed from his winter grasp forever more.


A month after this, she vanished, as the mutterings grew of her own devilry, of the hint of Dark she had shown, for any dark is fearsome, and her protection was forgotten, as men began to fear her as much as the Walker. She left, and her name left with her, for she had never told it's Truest form. Her name was Witherwere, and she became a goddess at the end of all her life, a beauty yet still, with both Light and Dark in her heart.

[DeVrie]

There's far better work being done, but I just added some fed building info...

FEDERATION - penal colonies building tree

'Reaffirmation Camps'

lvl 1 Segregation Details

The first process in reaffirming Federal citizens whose thought-patterns are held to account are the Segregation Camps, where they will be allowed to reaffirm their loyalty and expulsion of wayward thoughts and beliefs from beyond the borders, where the bloated icons of morallly corrupt overseers rule with a mesmerising mantra. SUch things can be forgiven ina fervour of work and honest displays of the rebuking of such things welcome the citizen back into the folds of free-thought and sanctity. SOme do not achieve this again, but the vast majority are given a new life, away from the people they knew before their falling. (work-camps)


Lvl2 Educational Facility

The citizens most perverted by foreign propaganda cannot give their corrupted loyalties up so easily. Such people need the benefit of re-education - a gentle process of the offering of friendship that will bring even the most wayward back to the fold of the freedom our Federation offers. Many choose to serve for their freely given admission of fervour in defence of the ways of Emancipation, and fight on our front lines against those who corruption managed to erode their faith in our family. The front lines are strengthened by those that know the evil their enemy brings them to this, to be returned to a safe existence after their fervour is spent.

First recruitment of Penal Battalion units.

lvl 3 Bonding Facilities

Many who have have learned the bitter truth of the enemy choose to serve for a longer period before being given back their freedom, claimed by a higher position in the ranks of the greatest of servants of our people. Not only are they brought joyously back, but they are elevated by their devotion!



lvl 4 Foreign Agencies

Those who achieve the highest honours amongst those that understandably subtle corruptions are sent abroad, agents of our people, justly feared by our foes. These men and women carry war to other lands, to lessen their corruption and brings others to aid us in our struggle!

Income from Slavery; men and women sold to Ashapur and other places, where 'their piteous lies can be ignored for their own good'.


---------------

The incubus and succubus order buildings...

lvl1 Monastery of the Red Moon

In our fight to remain the only truly free nation, and to demonstrate our strength to the Oppressors abroad, it is the duty of trained and disciplined men and women to tend to our citizens' own needs and protect them from their own, impure, thoughts. If one begins to see concepts like love or individuality above the State, or secretly harbour leanings towards 'religion' or faith elsewhere, then correction is necessary, to help and re-educate, even challenge such things. Sadly, sometimes and entire family or village may harbour sentiments, and there must be those who are above others in their discipline and steadfast conviction to aid those whose minds do not follow such focus. These are the men and women of the Tempters, who are willing to live in the filth of outside ways - both within and without our homes - to expose and protect us all.

lvl2 Monastery of the Silver Moon

Where the wiles of lust and of women fail, we train those amongst the best to become weapons of war, capable themselves of great skill in slaughter. Visiting these men, the Incubi, upon our foes catches those that rise above the squalor of most of their ilk. They need removing, as the head of a snake from a smoking wound to society, such as they are. When decency fails, the Incubi assail with blade and belief, the two a weapon few can defend against! The Federation stands strong!

lvl3 Receptory of the Secret Orders

Here, the Secret Orders carry constant vigil. Their knowledge is vast, their power great and they alone read the propaganda of the enemy, to better understand the deceit by which they live. Here, collected by the best among our citizens, the schemes of the foe are unravelled, and the nest of hate they instill within our people are broken open and burned in praise to the greatness of the Federal Order.

lvl4 Exhibition Chancel

Under the towers of our men and women of the Secret Orders, the Incubus and Succubus, there are greater things at work. Magic, as men call it, is unnatural in it's pliancy and manipulation by evil. It's workings need to be understood, and here we control such things, and we seek to unravel the greatest mysteries, in order to better combat them. Avatars, the Elves call the greatest. We call them Agents of Villiany, and we cut them as surgeons, to expel their humour and dissipate their power and hold over men. With this comes danger, but we have men who carry the knowledge of centuries. Many have died in this endless task, and more will, but a vital blow to our most seditious foes, which we should celebrate!

It is good thing that we can rely upon such seemly institutions to lovingly guide people towards freedom XD.

[Squeaks]

A little bit of story, adding to the Principality story in post 3. It's very important to understanding a weird faction...

There is a road that runs on stone legs, twisting the landscape along the Drake's Spire, a terrible thing, placed over living land,to wither the areas it touched, with it's paved stones, cut so unnaturally from once living rock. It's path is more straight than is natural, it reeks of broken magic, and the Ley is troubled where it must cross this wide pathway where there should be none.

It was built to aid men who wished to enter a wild place, to contain that wildness, to constrict it and own it. Slavery was this road, and all things that trod it's path bore those wishes in their hearts or souls. Some were better at self-conviction than others, and most simply didn't care, so their awareness was suppressed by what they did care for – money, slaves, riches of any description....what was important was that they cared for things that really had no meaning at all, yet it bore their entire being behind it.

On this road, an army marched. It was an army of man and horse, of metal and wood and echoing steel hooves, ringing discordant in the air. The entire length of it seemed alive, as if insects crawled on top of a dead creature, raucous noises drifted amidst the tack of harness and hefted weapons and shields. The men on the road came fully armed fro war, and they expected it. Some of the laughter was shrill, as the fear that this army had for the very land itself became tested with every new step. Do not forget that this army lived on fear, lived on the devouring shroud of hate, ignorance and lust.

The army was from the south, from the Principality's heartlands.He did not ride amongst them, as his Queen forbade him, as much as she could, but his men were here nonetheless, albeit at partial strength. Amongst them were some of his knights, men of the Tower Guard, Household and Royal Knights, Pawn Levies – archers and spearmen, heavily armoured, despite the title, as they were anything but levies...hardened men, these.

With them were men of the Marches, true levymen amongst them. The Lords of the Western Weald were absent, as were the Eastern Barons,but the Southern Fiefs came in full strength, Lordlings who had no experience of what they were aching to fight, as came the Northern Fiefs, who should know better. The Central Duchies, most important of all, were riding too. These men were not to be underestimated, asthey rode with the most experienced veteran forces, with hundreds ofknights rather the dozens of other fiefdoms. They rode with more than these others – the North came for fear of not being there, so afraid of what would happen if they lost this petty war – they rodewith faith in their hearts, for they had embraced the new Cult, the Church of the Only, and rode at it's behest.

Where the Prince could not come, these men had. In the far South,the Prince rode against the warriors of Cho Tetsu, arrayed in force,yet greatly weakened by this northern war. With him were some of the Queen's forces, and the Western Wealds, but so many were absent. Here was the truest folly, for this was not needed, no provocation wasgiven and no denial of duty was to be called into breach. This was awar of religion, if it can be called that, for the Eyes of the Onlyrode with them, bringing two thousand fanatics of their faith to visit terrible injustice in the name of purity. The warriors of the Only God numbered a few hundred of the Banners of the Sacrosanct;little more than levies, save that they were clearly insane. Two hundred Seraphael gleamed, shining with an ethereal light, and hundreds of Temple Knights, armoured in segmented plate armour,marched or rode on heavily armoured warmounts. Truly a terrifying force, even without eight thousand men of the Principality to support them.
On this dead road rode ten thousand men, and the air shook with their might. Cairbe was a Mossman, a Greengliadh, and he could not be seen when he did not mean to be so. Even the creatures of the Fenns found the Greenglaidh difficult to place, so far adapted were they.He watched with mounting horror, as his eyes took in the sheer numbers of the enemy. One of the advantages of this land was theability to withdraw deeper into the Fenns at need, but this armycould simply plough through the landscape, pulling down the very homes of the deepest places. Some things you could not hide from, and the venom of some of these men was palpable. He knew it would not bethe same as before. Nothing ever would again. This was no war, but an extermination.

Saervarn, his daughter, slowly exhaled, the mist of her breath lost before any heat could register, so well were they taught. She looked at him and shrugged. 'Well?' He demanded. 'Was going to say that we have not even a tenth part of warriors that this host has,and, with all of the Gallows Men and the Clans gathered, still not a quarter'.

'Not helpful, Saerve'.

'Nothing is, father'.

He had to give her that. He knew the Calling had been made, knewthat the Fenns were gathering, but he could picture what would likelyoccur. He could see Ettins falling to the ground, dead, see treesburning, Pact-Oaks screaming as fire lanced through them. TheBaelfinns, the Morrdaer, all the nasty things could die, forwhat he cared, but the others were his friends. Perhaps more thanthat; they were beautiful, expecially where he wasn't. His daughterwas beautiful, but these were something you could feel as well as see. Talking to a tree stump was fine, but make that live and talkback – THAT was something to remember even past death. One momentwith the creatures of his Fenns was worth more than everyhuman in existence, as he knew they were essentially meaningless,except for when they did the RIGHT thing.

When you saw an Ettin; a monstrous creature of the Fenns, huge and bestial to many, lean down and take a broken fawn in it's arms and watch it glow, burning bright with magic, and saw that fawn mov eagain, take life and run free, to grow and mate and make more of it's kind. He had seen a child once, crushed by an Ettin's clumsiness, and had seen it wail and cry, so loudly that it woke sleepers miles away.It had broken the child, and it remade him, taking his pain and the death's black light into himself, to give life back to something whose kind had only ever caused the Fenns grief. No-one could question that. It was sick for days, and Cairbe had stayed with it ,nursing it's fever. The fawn had no effect on these creatures, but humans did – he had heard that some died from healing humans, a poison borne in the souls of humanity infecting them, but he had stayed until it was better, and it had gifted his wife with a newlife – his daughter, Saerve.

[Squeaks]

People seem interested in the Federation above pretty much all other factions. I guess good uniforms DO work. Luckily, they're in the minimod....

Here's a quick bit about the faction, and it's response to Religion, as they have got the same 'gods' as other humans (within reason), but their viewpoint and use of them is still about 'helping' their people avoid falling under the thrall of 'nefarious schemes for dangerous supernatural creatures', whose powers interrupt the purity of religion in other factions of humanity....

SPIRITUAL MATTERS ACCORD - OVERVIEW OF REGULATIONS FOR RELIGIOUS WELLBEING Section 422, Summarising the 712th Council Stricture.

The existence of gods is, of course, a balm for the needy. Of those, we have many, but it important to show that gods are simply an idol to give advice, and thus below the actual living members of the Council of Nine, that gods have no real power over man. Worse, there are many who use 'prayer' to call upon their gods for immediate physical aid, and that they report, consistently, that miracles come true, are 'real', and more dangerously commonplace. Whilst we can imagine that harnessing such power could be a strong resource, we cannot control it, nor can we be sure where it comes from; if gods are able to intervene, then they can change hearts and minds of people, give them a different viewpoint than normal human drudgery may allow, and we cannot tolerate the interference of such beings amongst our people. Temples talk about their worshippers as personal objects of their gods, and it should be that only the Council should be able to consider people as property, especially if another organisation should see this in an intrinsically emancipating light, for that we cannot abide. Such things are dangerous to the true way we define ourselves.

Thus, we must set up the same gods as being worshipful, give them temples and then carefully control the effects of Prayer. Such places should be lined with materials that we use to contain Avatars and negate 'magic', as all such things are random by nature, wild and uncontrolled; above all else, control must be maintained.

As Councillor Malgrave has written; 'If we give them gods to salve their misery, then we must give them OUR gods, else risk subordination amongst the miserable ranks of mewling children we possess, body, mind and now soul. This matter is complete'.

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Message from the COuncil to the emancipated few:

A PROCLAMATION OF SPIRITUAL SAFETY!

People of the Federation! All must know the bounty of those above us, whose power is beyond understanding, and we follow the same gods as the lesser nations call theirs. These gods are a way for us to be better people, and can comfort us. Certainly the use of 'Confessionals' can only help keep us safe, so these will be open to all who need to express their fears and sins. There will never be a time when our priests are unwilling to listen to private thoughts and unburden private fears and fearsome memories, and the gods will hear you through them. However, there are creatures out there who intercept prayers between people and gods and will use them to supernatural effect, and such an impurity should not control us or damage us or our society. Should you experience anything unusual during private thoughts about your god or gods, or feel as if something is trying to contact you in turn, report these immediately so we can protect you and your loved ones, and ensure the Federation stays strong and safe.

[DeVrie]

How can you be surprised people like the Federation if you write things like that. I must go to the temple at once to purge my unwholesome thoughts.

[Squeaks]

Hmm. It should be putting people off....

Here's an excerpt about making the troops for the Penal Battallions.

Auchelin was bent over the limp figure on the exercising table, his blood red armour pooling with sweat, lank hair collecting in clumps. On the table was a man, his crime unknown to Auchelin, and his eyes rolled everywhere, silently pleading; pointlessly pleading. His tongue had already been judiciously removed, a black area, burned against infection, moving slightly in the throat of the subject. His crimes must have been terrible, for he was to lose his mind (maybe his soul, should it exist - but such talk was forbidden). He could have been anyone, even an Incubus who fell to ruin by forbidden thoughts or actions. Auchelin had seen three of the seven he had passed with, become Incubi, fall to such a fate.

He waved a hand, and the insipid creature that aided in this room shuffled forwards. His eyes were fevered, and his drool was mixed with blood, but enough of the mind remained to make him both useful and gruesomely eager. These things were known for their fervour, which was why they were used for such things. Every so often, they were purged and new ones made from the criminals of the Federation. Even the wrong thoughts could betray you, even to family, friends or neighbours. These fates often awaited, unless the mines needed new workers.

The creature passed a phial of black liquid and it swam with strange parasites, swirling in a dance. He did not know what they were, but they entered the body through ears, eyes and the mouth and nose, burrowing through flesh and membranes. Somehow, as they spread, they changed a man (or woman; it was often difficult to tell, even before this process), rapidly removing his cognitive functions, eating through sections of brain, eating and leaving a shell of hate and anger. They died, of course; the small organisms had been made to die, whether because they were dangerous, or simply that they took too much if left alive.

Then drills were used, a plate fastened to the inside arm, great screws bored through bone to the other side, where they were met by a blade, tightly bonding the two together. Given the mindless flailing of a Penal creature, the blades were lethal and very effective. Some would break, shattering the bones, but they were generally good for battle. Great cages dotted the ground before a supported army, the Penal servants gathered within. They would be released, eyes forwards, to scream silently and run at an enemy force. They would mostly die, ravening at the foe, and the effect was sometimes comical to Auchelin. The dead did not need to be collected and tranquilised after a victory, so any outcome didn't matter, as long as there was a victory. The terror they induced was incredible, but losses were difficult to replace, unless a new law could gather more enemies of the state, which they often did. Even the mines could disgorge a replacement force, so there were ways and means. As long as the dangerous doubters in the strength of the Federation paid, there was nothing wrong. Cast doubts aside and learn to live for the purity of law, and you would do well. Question and doubt, and you would end up here, with the shells of humanity and the Incubus performing operations. SHuddering, Auchelin knew that the Incubus were far more kind than the convent women of the Succubus Order. They were truly frightening, but to be admired.

Beneath him, the rolling eyes had ceased to move. The small creatures could be seen in the eyes, and black ichor bled from the ears. It was time to sedate his charge and move to the next, before it awoke and caused havoc. The lash awaited the inadequate in such matters.

[Tomon Ris]

All praise our mighty and wise masters, The Council of Nine. (Hides dagger behind back)

[Evalation]

Has anyone ever attempted to overthrow the council of nine and become king or queen? Or is that what Ilien is trying to do right now?

[Squeaks]

All praise our mighty and wise masters, The Council of Nine. (Hides dagger behind back)

They're wise/paranoid enough to work out that the dagger's there...then it's goo-time and eating people on the battlefield.....

Has anyone ever attempted to overthrow the council of nine and become king or queen? Or is that what Ilien is trying to do right now?

Officially, no, no one has ever tried to overthrow the Council. They have had many in-fights for power in the council, and internal purges. Of course, there have been 'foreign conspiracies' that have ended up causing 'trouble' by their wicked lies infecting the good people of the Feds, which have mostly/always been detected and eradicated before they could take hold.

SO, yes, there have been many attempts. The Bandit Kingdom has been involved in several, as have the Empire (Rhysthari have helped behind the scenes, and are trying to create medicenes/magic to reverse the Penal Battalion perversions and return the Penal units to 'normal' people again), but there have been hundreds of insurrections from educated people, or people who have spoken out at what they've witnessed in life. Sadly, there are more people willing to turn them in (family members etc) to prevent any from doing much damage. They test communities by sending the Succubus and Incubus Secret Police to 'tempt' people. If family or villagers turn people in, they get food and other stuff for being 'honest', but often the Police will return months later to make sure everyone's good....often with more purges. The Penal Battalions are very very large in number, especially when groups from work camps get too old, because the methods of making Penal Units rejuvenates even the elderly. They just die faster naturally afterwards, so are the first to be sent into battle.

The Elves have been shown by the Grey WHispers (Bandit Kings) that the Incubus are experimenting on Avatars, and they are not happy, so their hand would be forced soon - lindiri are at full scale war in the East with the Feds anyway.

Since Descati arrived, there has been a terror running through the West, and such things have collapsed in the face of it.

Ilien is now faced with the lies she has followed; since being treated the way she has, and the meaningless 'trial' that condemned her and rejected her utter devotion, she has had to realise that the feds need to be stopped. She's gathering her personal fanatics, has Elohim coming to her from their Dreaming Cities, awakened by her light, and the 'Atonement Battalions' have begun to rally to her - people who are incensed by her treatment by the council, people who have seen too much, or been forced to do or ignore too much; whole companies of Federal Order units have deserted to join her.

With her, the Ghaurchlai (Descati) attempted to remove her as the only threat they have felt in the west, and it went horribly wrong. They don't care that they have to kill more people, but they do care that her 'trial' has pushed many sheep to fight for her; sheep that could have been murdered in their beds now bear arms with Ilien. Their attempted dominance of the Council has gone wrong, but it's just more to kill.

One thing about the Ghaurchlai....they are evil, they were changed by their actions and Abyssal interference, but they hate the AByss for it. Although they're evill, they still hate the Abyss for what it did to them. As Celesti Elves, they would have been in a better position to eradicate those who stood against them, rather than the deformed evil they have been forced to assume as their being.

Rather than 'we're evil, we must kill all', they actually want to kill all who can stop them, take control of the Dragon and fly it to the borders of the Abyss to close it forever, or even fly into it to burn everything they find - they may try to subvert more Celestial Dragons so they DO have the strength to fly in and exterminate the Abyss itself. They're not mindless at all, but they are consumed with hate.

I'm happy to waffle more