The Vaeltarii city today
All of the hard work, and sacrifice, sleepless nights, and belt tightening. Deal brokering, and long walks overly laden with supplies through the treacherous mists have paid off.
The natives, dubbed “The Resurrected” as much as by the Lantern Bearers, and Myst walkers, as themselves, were never a lazy people. They never sat around when there was work to be done. They stepped up when attacked, and died, and bled just like any other, man or woman, youth, or elder it didn’t matter to them. They toiled the mushroom beds, built defenses, structures, kitchens, anything, and everything that was needed, when it was needed without complaint. Discipline, and hard work were never in short supply.
Though the Resurrected were largely ignorant, and accomplished tasks by rote, rather than true understanding, they learned quickly everything that was taught, and after a very short time, they became eager for any knew knowledge or skills. They quickly snapped up the lessons offered to them during the “Sessions of Enlightenment”. Skilled, and knowledgeable speakers from Click to Kai, Spider to the Empress, Nikos to Saali, and all manner of other experts, offered insight, and they hungrily snapped it up.
When the inevitable threat of the corruption of the Empire of Iron Hand reared its ugly feathered head, it was put down. The Resurrected did not lament this loss. They had seen what they had escaped from, and they, through much effort, and sacrifice had been shown a better way.
None of this would have been possible without your efforts.
Now.
The Vaeltarii city remains the seat of governance of the rapidly growing, and expanding people. The smart choice it is the easiest spot to defend and fall back to, and from this city, the population has grown, and continues to grow. Everyday now a few more people resurrect either at the earth circle here, or in the new one at the vale of the Hearth.
Workshops are rarely quiet now and the scullery rarely sleeps. The city is laid out in an orderly fashion, and the various units of fighting Resurrected camp by squad, while those who run the city camp by department. The city runs like a well maintained clockwork. Units depart for patrols, and pickets. They are rotated, and relieved often, training is conducted, and rest granted. Structures are built, improved, and not a nail is wasted in the process.
The departments have a morning meeting where tasks, and problems are confronted, and solved. A “Chore Wheel” is available at the Clerks camp.
The Vale of Love remains a secluded spot above ground, hushed, and muted in comparison to the bustle of the Vaeltarii city. The guardians patrol the borders with stealth, and care, and the nexus forge nearby has been secured, and is guarded day, and night.
Those who see combat are rotated to this vale to rest, and recuperate, and this Vale remains a staging ground, and rest stop all in one. Slightly less developed in order to aid in its camouflage there are still structures, and amenities here though far more rustic by comparison.
The Vale of War
The Vale of War boasts tall thick trees, interspersed with lush undergrowth as a result of the True Empowered Bountiful harvest cast at its inception. Small openings are filled with small, but robust fruit trees, berry bushes, other edible, and beneficial plants, herbs even grow on the sides of footpaths. Activity is constant, though it does reduce in intensity after supper significantly.
There are now several squads of Resurrected, at least 2 war parties of Mystic Wood Elves, and sometimes members of the Vestr Valdyr, and Raven guard. The occasional Fey can be seen out of the corner of the eye during the daytime, and even the occasional Assacrantii can be seen on their way from one errand to the next. Though neither Fey, or Assacrantii stay for long, and they seldom engage with any besides Kharakorum, the ancient Dryad of war, or the odd Mystic Wood Elf war leader.
Daytime is all business with most already awake before the sun crests the low mountains. Cookfires are going, sustenance consumed, pickets are relieved, patrols return, and come back, and those on their sorties set out to hunt.
A short time later the more quiet crafters begin, and the sounds of construction, and the ping of hammer on anvil can be heard from the smithy. Sometimes there is a swell of activity as something gets too close to the protections enabled by the Fey, the Assacrantii, and their magicks, and all go quiet. Other times the defenders slide forth quiet like shadows, and deal with the interlopers in a much more personal fashion.
After supper pickets are relieved, patrols depart, the guard shifts are never very long to stave off boredom, and the risks with inattentive sentries. Cookfires are banked low, pots, and such are cleaned, the smithy’s start to wind down, trying to get that last piece made before stopping for the day.
Eventually the squads gather around their smaller campfires, dicing, singing, drinking, and swapping tales of days, and years gone by. Silly rumours, or ridiculous stories are quashed pretty ruthlessly by the various leaders, and their seconds, and no one it seems has a lot of time for slander, or back biting. The battles against the Iron Hand, “the stolen”, (the latest title of those first people that seem to be enthralled to the outsiders), and the elementals, are going well, but are constant, and a constant drain on supplies, and consumables.
BloodMoon, and her war party are often in attendance though they are absent from time to time for days at a time. Occasionally a massive Black Assacrantii sits in attendance at their war parties campfire. To date no one has heard it speak, or seen it fight.
A real treat from time to time are the various Mystic Wood Elves that take turns regaling those at the Vale of War with song, and the occasional dance. For a few hours out of the day the worries, and strain of the battlefield melt away.
The Vale of the Hearth
Though boasting an impressive earth circle on par with the one in the main Vaeltarii city, and laborers hard at work, there is still so much to be done. An impressive push is being mounted to try and make the place habitable, and secure by winter but that will be a close thing indeed. Everything must be done by scratch with the exception of some of the tools. Many hands are required to attend the circle day, and night, and those who come back. More hands to patrol the borders of the Vale, and still more to tend to the harvest that continues to grow.
So far only a handful have been allowed to make their residence in the Vale of the Hearth, but the work crews are pretty constantly going to and from.
Some of the newly resurrected have had trouble with their integration into this burgeoning society has hit a few snags, but such things are to be expected.
The ongoing conflict with the tenacious remnants of the Empire of the Iron Hand, and the strange dark tainted first people consumes much of the military’s time, and energy. Lt. Darve Huriet of the Last Bastion, under General Sir Marcus, has mounted a largely successful military campaign against these foes.
The Mystic Wood Folk, though gracious, and welcoming are particular about this Vale, and what can, and cannot be used, and what access there is or is not, and where, what can, or can not be built. Progress is made, but at the cost of many conversations, some held in plain view many others held behind closed tent flaps.
There is some tension, but despite that morale remains high, stomachs are full, progress is being made, new faces, hands, and skills are being added to this budding, fledgling nation everyday. Starvation, and hopelessness seem like distant memories, and nightmares fading upon waking.
Which is usually around the time when the rug gets pulled out from underneath everyone.
But the Empress, The Voice of Silence, Kharakorum, Summershine, General Marcus, Dame Maerize, and the other leaders of the Resurrected, Lantern Bearers, and Mist Walkers are determined not to let that happen.
The conflict against the Iron hand continues, the raids against the “Stolen people”, the latest name for those outsider corrupted first people, continue unabated. The champions of the Outsiders have been named the next targets, Otto, The Hag Sisters, The Watcher, Swordfish, and the many other outsiders that remain to be confronted, and destroyed.
The leaders have directed those willing, and able to strike down Otto, and thus free up access to a whole other land that is likely trapped in the distorted time, before Otto can.
Those that are willing and able to take up arms, find the Hag sisters, the former children, and wife of the old Warlock of Ravens the same who betrayed and murdered him so long ago, and put an end to these servants of the Outsiders.
All of the hard work, and sacrifice, sleepless nights, and belt tightening. Deal brokering, and long walks overly laden with supplies through the treacherous mists have paid off.
The natives, dubbed “The Resurrected” as much as by the Lantern Bearers, and Myst walkers, as themselves, were never a lazy people. They never sat around when there was work to be done. They stepped up when attacked, and died, and bled just like any other, man or woman, youth, or elder it didn’t matter to them. They toiled the mushroom beds, built defenses, structures, kitchens, anything, and everything that was needed, when it was needed without complaint. Discipline, and hard work were never in short supply.
Though the Resurrected were largely ignorant, and accomplished tasks by rote, rather than true understanding, they learned quickly everything that was taught, and after a very short time, they became eager for any knew knowledge or skills. They quickly snapped up the lessons offered to them during the “Sessions of Enlightenment”. Skilled, and knowledgeable speakers from Click to Kai, Spider to the Empress, Nikos to Saali, and all manner of other experts, offered insight, and they hungrily snapped it up.
When the inevitable threat of the corruption of the Empire of Iron Hand reared its ugly feathered head, it was put down. The Resurrected did not lament this loss. They had seen what they had escaped from, and they, through much effort, and sacrifice had been shown a better way.
None of this would have been possible without your efforts.
Now.
The Vaeltarii city remains the seat of governance of the rapidly growing, and expanding people. The smart choice it is the easiest spot to defend and fall back to, and from this city, the population has grown, and continues to grow. Everyday now a few more people resurrect either at the earth circle here, or in the new one at the vale of the Hearth.
Workshops are rarely quiet now and the scullery rarely sleeps. The city is laid out in an orderly fashion, and the various units of fighting Resurrected camp by squad, while those who run the city camp by department. The city runs like a well maintained clockwork. Units depart for patrols, and pickets. They are rotated, and relieved often, training is conducted, and rest granted. Structures are built, improved, and not a nail is wasted in the process.
The departments have a morning meeting where tasks, and problems are confronted, and solved. A “Chore Wheel” is available at the Clerks camp.
The Vale of Love remains a secluded spot above ground, hushed, and muted in comparison to the bustle of the Vaeltarii city. The guardians patrol the borders with stealth, and care, and the nexus forge nearby has been secured, and is guarded day, and night.
Those who see combat are rotated to this vale to rest, and recuperate, and this Vale remains a staging ground, and rest stop all in one. Slightly less developed in order to aid in its camouflage there are still structures, and amenities here though far more rustic by comparison.
The Vale of War
The Vale of War boasts tall thick trees, interspersed with lush undergrowth as a result of the True Empowered Bountiful harvest cast at its inception. Small openings are filled with small, but robust fruit trees, berry bushes, other edible, and beneficial plants, herbs even grow on the sides of footpaths. Activity is constant, though it does reduce in intensity after supper significantly.
There are now several squads of Resurrected, at least 2 war parties of Mystic Wood Elves, and sometimes members of the Vestr Valdyr, and Raven guard. The occasional Fey can be seen out of the corner of the eye during the daytime, and even the occasional Assacrantii can be seen on their way from one errand to the next. Though neither Fey, or Assacrantii stay for long, and they seldom engage with any besides Kharakorum, the ancient Dryad of war, or the odd Mystic Wood Elf war leader.
Daytime is all business with most already awake before the sun crests the low mountains. Cookfires are going, sustenance consumed, pickets are relieved, patrols return, and come back, and those on their sorties set out to hunt.
A short time later the more quiet crafters begin, and the sounds of construction, and the ping of hammer on anvil can be heard from the smithy. Sometimes there is a swell of activity as something gets too close to the protections enabled by the Fey, the Assacrantii, and their magicks, and all go quiet. Other times the defenders slide forth quiet like shadows, and deal with the interlopers in a much more personal fashion.
After supper pickets are relieved, patrols depart, the guard shifts are never very long to stave off boredom, and the risks with inattentive sentries. Cookfires are banked low, pots, and such are cleaned, the smithy’s start to wind down, trying to get that last piece made before stopping for the day.
Eventually the squads gather around their smaller campfires, dicing, singing, drinking, and swapping tales of days, and years gone by. Silly rumours, or ridiculous stories are quashed pretty ruthlessly by the various leaders, and their seconds, and no one it seems has a lot of time for slander, or back biting. The battles against the Iron Hand, “the stolen”, (the latest title of those first people that seem to be enthralled to the outsiders), and the elementals, are going well, but are constant, and a constant drain on supplies, and consumables.
BloodMoon, and her war party are often in attendance though they are absent from time to time for days at a time. Occasionally a massive Black Assacrantii sits in attendance at their war parties campfire. To date no one has heard it speak, or seen it fight.
A real treat from time to time are the various Mystic Wood Elves that take turns regaling those at the Vale of War with song, and the occasional dance. For a few hours out of the day the worries, and strain of the battlefield melt away.
The Vale of the Hearth
Though boasting an impressive earth circle on par with the one in the main Vaeltarii city, and laborers hard at work, there is still so much to be done. An impressive push is being mounted to try and make the place habitable, and secure by winter but that will be a close thing indeed. Everything must be done by scratch with the exception of some of the tools. Many hands are required to attend the circle day, and night, and those who come back. More hands to patrol the borders of the Vale, and still more to tend to the harvest that continues to grow.
So far only a handful have been allowed to make their residence in the Vale of the Hearth, but the work crews are pretty constantly going to and from.
Some of the newly resurrected have had trouble with their integration into this burgeoning society has hit a few snags, but such things are to be expected.
The ongoing conflict with the tenacious remnants of the Empire of the Iron Hand, and the strange dark tainted first people consumes much of the military’s time, and energy. Lt. Darve Huriet of the Last Bastion, under General Sir Marcus, has mounted a largely successful military campaign against these foes.
The Mystic Wood Folk, though gracious, and welcoming are particular about this Vale, and what can, and cannot be used, and what access there is or is not, and where, what can, or can not be built. Progress is made, but at the cost of many conversations, some held in plain view many others held behind closed tent flaps.
There is some tension, but despite that morale remains high, stomachs are full, progress is being made, new faces, hands, and skills are being added to this budding, fledgling nation everyday. Starvation, and hopelessness seem like distant memories, and nightmares fading upon waking.
Which is usually around the time when the rug gets pulled out from underneath everyone.
But the Empress, The Voice of Silence, Kharakorum, Summershine, General Marcus, Dame Maerize, and the other leaders of the Resurrected, Lantern Bearers, and Mist Walkers are determined not to let that happen.
The conflict against the Iron hand continues, the raids against the “Stolen people”, the latest name for those outsider corrupted first people, continue unabated. The champions of the Outsiders have been named the next targets, Otto, The Hag Sisters, The Watcher, Swordfish, and the many other outsiders that remain to be confronted, and destroyed.
The leaders have directed those willing, and able to strike down Otto, and thus free up access to a whole other land that is likely trapped in the distorted time, before Otto can.
Those that are willing and able to take up arms, find the Hag sisters, the former children, and wife of the old Warlock of Ravens the same who betrayed and murdered him so long ago, and put an end to these servants of the Outsiders.