gedren_y

Ships that unknowingly sailed with Black Flag ships that committed no act of piracy should have the status removed.

To help drive prospective builders' confidence we need to show the weakest of our builds, then the not quite so bad builds, and keep the progression on into the beautifully skilled builds. Show that joining in the RBG can help improve your overall building skill, and also that it's okay to be a novice.

The final chapter of A Curious Story has been posted.

The mid-April weather in Kings Port was curiously warm. In that heat the city was bustling with activity. The salable cargo of the Consort's Duty had gone for nearly four times the amount of what they had sold in Nova Terreli. The rumors of the previous port hadn't followed Missa and her crew, but curious onlookers were still aplenty. It took nearly four hours to get the consigned cargo transported to the Grand Halos History Museum of Kings Port. For this duty Missa and Callum again dressed in their finery. The travel through the city showed them a curious mix of bombed-out devastation, beautifully restored properties, and numerous new construction projects. Their destination happened to be one of those beautifully restored properties. They would soon find out that Archduke Oldis was personally involved in that restoration. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The museum staff were in a curious rush to get the delivered artifacts into display cases, and onto the marble floor of the Grand Hall. Whilst that was being done, Missa and Callum were introduced to the Archduke, and curiously enough he offered to give the two a tour himself. As the trio explored, the Archduke explained that he had lobbied for the wealthy elite's assistance in not only the restoration of the building, but also providing replacement artifacts for display. All signs of the destruction brought on by war, and the subsequent looting and vandalism, had been erased. All about the museum were newly built display cases, with lovely floridly written descriptions attached. Another curious thing was that nearly every description the group stopped at had something written about the Archduke's effort in acquiring the subject, or some familial connection to the piece. Apparently the old man is determined to cement his legacy. It was coincidence on top of curiosity that had the trio admiring a Zeus inspired chandelier as the new display containing the scepters was being moved into place. Since Missa hadn't the time to give the museum an accounting of their acquisition, the description mounting held as a placeholder a newspaper printing of a recent Order of the Faith proclamation. Archduke Oldis was quite pleased that his barber had neatened his mustache, and that today's outfit did not require a corset. Missa marveled at the efficiency and speed of the museum staff in getting her finds ready for viewing. Callum is fascinated by a carving of a reclining woman across the way, which curiously resembled his lady love. "Hey, boss," workman Alvin Poe called out, "We don' want to be crashin' that shandy-leer, right?" "Quite right," crew chief Benjamin Dale replied, bringing the display case to a stop, "You push your end to your right, and we'll get the sides aligned with the wall." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Curiously it seems that advance word about the museum's newly acquired artifacts had reached the Order of the Faith priests. A protest quickly sprang up outside, complete with signage carried by some anonymous priests. The priests were obviously there to protest the fact that the religious artifacts should have been turned over to the Order of the Faith. To maintain their anonymity the priests wore cheese cloth over their faces. The robes worn by the priests were most commonly used by the priests of Zeus, but those who listened carefully would recognize the lead priest's voice as belonging to a priest of Hades. Curiously this group wasn't protesting about religious artifacts, but rather the government's failure to prioritize the restoration of their homes and businesses. The priests were doing their level best to keep the protest civil to avoid any destruction of property. Their reasoning was that both groups needed popular support to get their issues dealt with. Happenstance was about to deal them a crushing blow, however. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This portly youngster, Justin Needles, had nothing to do with the protesters. He was just using the crowd so that he could ambush his friend with this dirt clod. Sadly the dirt clod did not strike his friend, but instead struck an already nervous horse. That horse was hitched to a carriage which was quite suddenly careening down the lane, smashing through numerous stalls. Inside that carriage happened to be the wife of a local vintner, who had been hoping to see how the museum had displayed their donations. The carriage driver, curiously enough, was out of his seat attending to the nervous horse when the dirt clod landed. He had seen the direction from which it came, but not its thrower. It was he who pointed to the noisome protesters as the source of the current devastation. These events would sour public opinion for the Order of the Faith for well over a month, until Justin Needles owned up to his actions in a public confession. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Here ends the tale of the curious events in and around the lives of the Captain and crew of the Consort's Duty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . for now.

Or a designer to join US! The best we could probably get in a Lego Castle set would be a new map based on the shape of Historica as a whole. Maybe we could get a Creator set that includes a brick built creature based on a design here. Someone link that Kaliphlin beasts guide, because there are tons things we would love Lego to create there.

There are also those who believe the Order's 'gods' are false, lesser beings than the deity they worship, the Triuri (Triple Goddess: Maiden, Mother, Crone).

It wasn't Varlyrio proper, but a portion of the guards' force (cannot remember what they were called) joined the Hand trying to secretly control Historica through Raavage. I think he turned on them midway through his offensive campaign.

The outcome for a 9 roll seems to contradict itself. If you mean Mesabi Landing owes, it should read: ... We... have made a mistake with the tax forms... The additional income sums up to 10DB, reimbursed from Mesabi Landing. If you mean the ship owes, it should read: ... We... have made a mistake with the tax forms... The under-charged amount sums up to 10DB, to be paid in taxes to Mesabi Landing before the ship is allowed to leave.

On the issue of Kaliphlin; the Desert King controls the major trade hubs, but the outlying regions are mostly left to themselves. They pay taxes, and some contribute soldiers for military needs, but the Desert King doesn't have the military might to enforce societal control over the diverse populations. The Nestlands Clans were able to beat back the Ulandus invasion of their region themselves, with some help from Shadowmere, and the Desert King's forces just chased the invaders' forces about the area. When the Desert King took the major Kaliphlin seats of power, the Nestlands Clans just got on with life. The Mountain Mummies of the region were able to resist the Desert King's magical control, and stayed out of the fight. They recognize him as ruler, but refuse to call him Pharaoh, because he is an undead thing, not the Living Horus. The Nestlands Clans did the same to honor their allies. The Nestlands Clans supported Shadowmere in its resistance to Raavage, and maintain an embassy at the edge of the Moruth swamplands near the Claw Breakers' lands. It's even on the Nocturnus map. The Nestlands Clans maintain a steady cross-border trade with most of the southern Rakath werewolves clans, and a mutual defense treaty with Shadowmere.

pizzazz... what backwards planet do you hail from? Let me translate for you: business.

I see so many people misspelling the fifth guild's name. Varlyrio = Var - ly - ri - o! Get the correct spelling, then tell your spellcheck to add it to the dictionary.

To all current and future GOH leaders, I ask that you learn from ZC's accounting, and know that when real life puts unexpected pressure on your commitments here, there is help here for the asking. @ZCerberus, I know what a cancer fight can do to a family. My uncle fought twice while living with us. Maintaining outside interests can be a struggle. You've bourn it quite well, but if you need to in the future, there are those here willing to lift the burden.

Wow! Even with my limited engagement in income building I have banked more than two thirds the amount of the Sea Rats' 'national' account balance.

One thing that the leadership may want to consider is adopting something that has been a boon to BOBS, the faction group PM. From my experience it has helped drive cooperative storytelling, with players' own stories getting more woven into the larger story arc, and people can get more direct attention from the leadership to help settle themselves into the style of gameplay.

The minidolls would need movable feet for that to work.

Given the projected line-up, I doubt it. It would be more appropriate that the next Women's World Cup winners get a series.

Ah, the Glory of self rule! Isla de Victoria has learned the rightness of it, being a part of a nation ruled by the consent of the governed.

The fourth chapter of A Curious Story is set in Nova Terreli. The build has been licensed as a small residence.

The fourth chapter of A Curious Story has been posted.

It is a curious thing, how the misfortune of some can garner dividends for others. The disappearance of the Wringe II, and with her some valuable cargo, made the Consort's Duty's salable cargo sell in Nova Terreli above the expected price. That first week of March, 618, had curiosity seekers asking about the Consort's Duty's other cargo. Someone had started a rumor that there was something magical in one of the trunks from the Trador Museum of History. For this reason Captain Missa Drewsa has kept "Lady" Julianne Caprice with her as escort, to deter curious people from interfering with her duties as the captain of a Crahaish neh Triuri ship. Julianne does this with a dazzling display of dexterity involving a bolas, and a wicked looking blade. Missa's duty on this day is to meet with Dearji the Windsong, on a quiet residential street, about arranging her passage to Kings Port, a curiously fortuitous thing given her current contract with the Trador Museum of History. Missa gave Dearji a full accounting of her 'adventure' since landing in Hojaroja. If there had been someone curious enough to brave getting near Julianne, they would have heard the tale, assumed the level of coincidence to be unnatural, and the fervor about her cargo would have gotten worse. Dearji was quite pleased that her passage to Kings Port would be aboard the Consort's Duty. Another curious coincidence was the fact that Dearji's plan to stay in Kings Port for two months dovetailed nicely with Missa's plan to give her crew an extended shore leave. Dearji was cryptic about why she planned for a two month stay in the Terraversan port, but Missa decided to leave that curiosity alone. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- These two house were built using curiously similar designs. Another curiosity is that they were both built on the purchased lots with the intent to have a small 'yard' that would abut the other's. It was agreed to that the two property owners would, with the addition of an iron fence, share the stretch as communal garden space. One owner is an amateur astronomer, and the other a great believer in national pride . . . . . . and leisure. He let his wife decorate, and behind his chair she chose to frame their son's ghastly artwork. The amateur astronomer only let his wife choose the doorknob. She has since divorced him. He thought he had made a grand find with the curious lump now placed above the window. He thought he found gold, only to be informed what he had was pyrite, the substance used in making the paint covering the detail above his door, and on his wooden telescope. In the garden, between the fence and a curious bed of brightly colored moss, were planted some well sought after mushrooms, a strange crowned plant with bulbous protrusions, several of a wheat-like stalk plant, . . . . . . one corn stalk, and . . . . . . . . . Wait for it . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . three pineapples! Still curious? I hope so because . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . to be continued . . .

An identifying serial number would go where the copyright is on gaming cards, which is the bottom center. As for what goes in the space reserved for the mana cost, I think that would be a representation of what garnered the player/entity the card. The mana cost then would be determined by the leaders awarding the card. A color/symbol system would have be set up to denote the type of effect, and value level. This would be a good bit of work, and not really worth the effort as it would have to be workable across multiple image editing programs. All of the above is my way of helping organize something I might not bother to apply myself. The rewards idea is nice, but it is just an extra layer of gameplay that I may not take the time to pursue. We'll see.

I forgot to mention that I licensed the dockside warehouse in my Valiant Phoenix offloading in King's Harbour as a small commercial property.

The story of Eslandola's Mission To Terraversa continues.

I saved the link to my original post in the New Ship Classes - The Transition thread, and kept it updated with all my active ships and their stats. That way I have a consistent record, and should one of them be captured, I can relay accurate stats to the capturing party if need be.

@Bregir, for the first part of the response: Begone stowaway! "My name is Tristano Bucci, and I hope you will forgive me rushing on board!" He panted for a moment, listening to the captain presenting himself, before continuing with a bow: "My... contacts tell me you are heading for Terraversa, and it is imperative that I should go there too. I have urgent... matters, and you will be rewarded most handsomely for your assistance..." "What is your business on Terraversa?" Captain MacMathain asked. "I cannot just embark anyone?" "I am afraid it is highly confidential. Matters of the utmost importance to the future of Terraversa..." he said. "I am afraid I cannot tell you more." On deck of the Valiant Phoenix: "I'm sorry, Mr. Bucci, but you have told me nothing that mitigates the two very real problems you present me with," Ambrose countered, "The first is that you illegally boarded my vessel, which makes you a stowaway. Do you know what maritime law permits me to do in such situations?" The captain paused for a moment to let that idea sink into his stowaway. The cloaked man visibly blanched to a very unhealthy pale yellow, but his stance became tensed for quick movement. "The second is your knowledge of our destination, which makes you a potential threat to Eslandola's national security," Ambrose continued, "You find yourself in a bit of luck, because this is a Crahaish neh Triuri ship, and as such I am not permitted to simply dump you in the sea for being a potential threat. If you were to become an active threat to my ship and crew, however, Mr. Hofer here will have no compunction in killing you." The tension went out of Mr. Bucci then as he asked, "What is to become of me, and my mission?" Captain MacMathain replied, "You are to be arrested . . ." "I have the shackles and key right here sir," Bo'sun Hofer interjected. ". . . and you will be transferred to a trustworthy Eslandola vessel, to then be conveyed into the custody of Master Willem Guilder," the captain continued, noting his stowaway's reaction, "You know the name, good. The fate of you and your mission will be in his hands." Captain MacMathain waited for some kind of response from his stowaway. When he didn't get one, Ambrose began the orders to his crew, "Let the sails go slack, we need to dump speed for a transfer. Ferguson, get the semaphore flags. I'll need you to do the signaling. Garston, hold us as steady as you can, and find us someone who can handle our prisoner." "I think I have one already, sir," the first mate replied, "A large merchanter flying Eslandola and Triuri colors. I think . . . yes, it's the Quirky Irky, sir." "Captain McKenzie's ship, he should do just fine," Ambrose responded, then continued his orders, "Ferguson, use the purple flags, and the Triuri code so the other ships won't know what we're about. Tell them we have an important prisoner to be taken to Guilder. Do you know the signal for 'national security'?" "Aye, sir," Ferguson replied. "Be quick about it then," the captain continued his orders, "Poll and MacFee, man the starboard guns. Make sure no one thinks to interfere. Amelia, I'll need you to draft a letter. Bring your pen, fresh parchment, and an envelope readied with a wax seal." "I have them here, sir," she responded in short order, "But . . ." Before Amelia could complete her thought, Ferguson interrupted with, "They've signaled back. They're dropping the rowboat now, the white one." "That'll be the first mate, Padrig Taffish," Ambrose surmised. "And two rowers," Ferguson added. "That could be a problem. He has an extreme dislike of stowaways," the captain told his prisoner, "I guess that I'll have to impress upon him the need for great care this time." "Aye," Hofer added with a laugh, "He nearly killed a stowaway last winter." "No need to frighten the man any further," Amelia scolded the bo'sun. To Ambrose she continued her earlier thought, "Captain, if the letter is intended for the Admius Legistrad, it should be written in your hand." "Quite right," the captain replied, taking the pen and parchment. He carefully puts pen to parchment, but quickly looks up to ask his prisoner, "How do you spell your name? I wish to make sure I have it correct here." Mr. Bucci grimly replies, "T. R. I. S. T. A. N. O. . . . B. U. C. C. I." "Thank you," Ambrose says, maintaining his polite tone as he finishes his letter. The white rowboat pulls alongside, and Ferguson tosses a line so that they can keep the little vessel there. With only a few feet difference between the edge of the rowboat and the deck of the Valiant Phoenix, Ferguson simply lifts First Mate Padrig Taffish over the railing, and directs him to the stern of the ship. "A stowaway is it, Ambrose?" Padrig asked with a predatory look at the grey cloaked man, and then with a gleeful smile to the captain, "And what's this about 'national security'?" "I have a letter, and an important prisoner, to be taken to the Admius Legistrad," Ambrose tells him, waving the parchment so that the first mate cannot see what is written, "I'm asking for great care, and most definitely not your usual. It would be best if you limit the number of people that would be able to identify this man." Mr. Bucci nods his appreciation for that consideration. Captain MacMathain quickly slips the parchment into the envelope waiting in Amelia's hand, impresses the seal with his oversized signet ring, and signs it. Ambrose hands her the pen, which she puts away, and he passes the envelope to Mr. Taffish. "Alright," Padrig says as he stuffs the envelope in a pocket, "If this man's a prisoner, I'll need him in shackles. You do have shackles, right?" "Right here," Hofer says, tossing him the shackles with the key. Padrig turns and catches them with the agility of a born seaman, and in a deft move nearly too fast to see, he has Mr. Bucci's wrists locked tight. As the first mate ushers the prisoner towards the rowboat, Ambrose calls out, "If you're going to be the one to take him to Guilder, you may want to do something about your hair ahead of time." The crew of the Valiant Phoenix chuckle at the suggestion, and Padrig rushes Mr. Bucci into his boat with more force than necessary. A string of curses could be heard across the water as the white rowboat headed back to the Quirky Irky. "What is everyone still standing around for?" Ambrose called out to his crew, "Back to stations! We have a mission to complete!" -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Later, at a manor house outside King's Harbour: So much of Willem Guilder's time these days had been taken up by the Colonial Council, especially since his ascension to Admius Legistrad. Today in his study, however, he is getting back to business as Director of the MCTC with an Investors' Meeting for an upcoming project. "These are our projections for the next two quarters," Guilder claimed confidently as he passed across to his guests a spreadsheet ledger, with a detailed graph at the bottom. Suddenly in rushes the young Corrish page, Juno, gasping out, "Sir, Admius . . . uh . . .Legis . . . huh . . . strad. Someone . . . huh . . . needs . . ." "Juno," Guilder said in a firm, but calm tone, "Take a few breaths, and then tell me what the issue is." Juno gladly did as instructed, then continued, "There's a man at the stable entrance with a prisoner. One of the guards with the swords sent me. He's keeping them waiting there. The man with the prisoner said to say . . . uh . . . national security." Those two words sharpened Guilder's focus. Addressing his guests, "If you will excuse me, gentlemen, lady. Matters of State must take precedence." Guilder is quick to put his right arm around the page, and guide him out of the study. Once the study door closes they stop, and the Admius Legistrad glanced about unsure which direction he is supposed to go. "This house is so new to me. I have yet to completely explore . . ." Guilder leads into his question. "To the left, sir," Juno replies gleefully, "Past the ballroom, down the little stairs at the end of the wood floor, an' you'll be in the hall that leads right to it." "Thank you, lad," he tells the page, "Now head to the kitchen, and tell them to prepare some refreshments for my guests in the study." It didn't take Guilder long to realize why this manor house had been available for him to rent. Faux alcoves with wood paneling, vaguely threatening gas lamps on the walls, and in the hallway of his destination, a series of gaudy rugs that fail to hide the seam where two different stone foundations meet. Well before he could make out who it was that had interrupted his meeting, Guilder heard, "Off with the cloak. You're lucky I let you keep it on this long." The Truachesh accent was easy to recognize, but it wasn't until he could see the man's face that Guilder knew the speaker to be Padrig Taffish, the first mate of the Quirky Irky. "By your leave, Admius Legistrad, sir," Padrig said with as much flourish as he could muster, "I have for you a prisoner, and missive, from Captain MacMathain of the Valiant Phoenix." A quick glance and nod to the guardsman in the corner, Alrick Bohmer he noted, and his rapier was lowered for Guilder to retrieve the envelope. The note inside read: Most Honored Willem Guilder, Admius Legistrad of Eslandola, To you I have sent a most interesting prisoner, a man calling himself Tristano Bucci. This man illegally boarded my vessel, and sought me out to claim an urgent need to be transported to our destined port. His knowledge of such represents a serious leak of intelligence somewhere. I can assure you the leak did not come from my crew. I trust that you, Sir, will be able to learn the whole truth of the matter. Your faithful servant, Ambrose MacMathain, Captain of the Valiant Phoenix -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Well isn't this a pickle," Guilder sighed, "Mr. Bucci, is it?" "Forgive me, sir," said Mr. Bucci, "But it is of the utmost importance that I get to Terraversa. You will be rewarded for your assistance."  "I am not concerned with any reward," replied Guilder, "But I am concerned with the security of my ship. I'm sure you can understand my need for caution."  "And my mission is of the utmost importance to the future of Terraversa. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you more." "As I said, this is a pickle." Guilder tapped his cane while he looked over his guest. "Mr. Taffish, please unshackle Mr. Bucci. I do not consider him a prisoner. In fact I would like to make him an offer." Padrig gave Guilder a questioning look, but compiled. Stepping back up towards the door he queried, "By your leave, Admius Legistrad, I should be getting back to my ship." With Guilder's wave of assent, he left the way he came. Mr. Bucci rubbed his wrists now that he was unbound, and stooped to retrieve his cloak. "I apologize for the harsh treatment of my ship's captain, but he knows his duties well and takes them seriously. He could not take any passengers on this trip. But I hope you find my actions here agreeable enough to share with me the whole truth," Guilder told the man without a hint of rancor, "You can be assured that I want nothing untoward to happen to our Terraversan friends. Convince me that your words are true, and that your mission is in the best interests of Terraversa, and I will arrange transport for you myself on another ship. Or hurry off to find passage on your own, as you are free to go. What happens next is up to you." Guilder looks over to Alrick and tells him, "You may put your blade away, Mr. Bohmer. I'm safe enough. In fact, have your relief take over for the rest of the shift, but keep to yourself what has transpired here." Alrick nodded, and was just about to fulfill his orders when Guilder said, "About your uniform . . ." Alrick hesitated in panic at those words. He knew he wasn't attired in his proper uniform. In that frozen moment he thought about how that came to be. The heavy drinking last eve which had him clutching the wrong hat as he returned to his quarters, that in turn caused him to sleep through morning call. Alrick's rush to dress, having woken an hour late, found him in the wrong tunic and trousers, and without his chain and pendant.  He had hoped that his cape could obscure his mistake, but that idea was well and truly dashed. The only thing he was glad about was that he remembered his fencing gloves, as the palm sheathing his rapier suddenly began to sweat. " . . . I'll send a message to the haberdashers Laurell & Coffee," a smiling Guilder continued, "So they'll be ready to outfit you with a new one tomorrow, on my account." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (OOC) Any future story events involving Tristano Bucci will likely be handled by @Capt Wolf.