View Full Version : [AAR] Ull, Lord of the Open Road
October 24th, 2006, 01:19 AM
Brief low-down. Slow AAR game, biased towards storytelling rather than game details. Early Age Arcoscephale, Aran, standard setting, six difficult AIs. Expect a new turn every other day or so.
There are three great forces that rule the world. Order, emptiness and time. The first is my warden; chains of steel and ropes of magic and other, stronger, bounds of will and words and law. The second is my prison. The void beyond the void, an emptiness not only of space but of self. And time, the greatest of the three? Eventually, it will be my doom as it is all things' doom, but first it will be my delivery.
In time, even the unchangeable changes. In the world a memory fades, a word is forgotten, a language dies. A single strand snaps, a single grain of dust settles in a castle of order. Only a single strand, as thin as spider-silk, in a rope thicker than mountains. It is a pittance, but it is a beginning and for the first time in eons, I can open my eyes.
For a moment, a year or a eon, I see the non-existence of the void; the lightlessness beyond darkness, bereft even of blackness. Then a single pin-prick of light draws my eye and I see the world again. For a brief week I study a single grain of sand before my attention is suddenly drawn eastwards. I _recognise_ this. Even after the tyranny of time, I recognise Mount Cephalos, and at its foot the Lykeion.
I see one of the old holy springs, where men used to sacrifice to me before the Pantokrator's power bound me in the void. A man encased in metal stops by it, sweaty and grimy with dust from the road. He fills his helmet with water and drinks deeply before pouring the rest over his head and I see his name. Eioneus, son of Phalkes.
The Pantokrator's chains binds me too tightly for me to smile. Oh foolish Eioneus, you think your destiny your own, but you have drunk of the sacred water under my gaze and I claim you. You are a pittance, but you are a beginning.
October 24th, 2006, 05:54 AM
Turns 2 and 3
I study the lands surrounding Mount Cephalos and I watch as Eioneus march his pitiful band of soldiers up its slopes to harden them. They are not ready, but Time is still the saviour. They will get ready.
Eioneus still thinks he owes his promotion to castellan to his own destiny, and the city fathers still think he owes his loyalty to them. It amuses me. Even when Eioneus brings his lover Askalaphos out to drink at my spring, he believes the notion his own.
I tie Askalaphos' destiny to mine as I had Eioneus', and in Askalaphos I find what I was seeking. This young man yearns for purpose, for something to believe in, for a fixed point to leverage his life around. I watch him dream, and I provide him. I tell him true lies and wrong truths and real dreams and I claim my right as the foundation of all his existance. Eagerly, he accepts.
I search the moonlit spires of Cephalos and find what I was hoping against hope to find. A herd of winged horses, descendants of the great Teous, my sacred mount of old. His blood runs thin, but still it remembers, still it runs true. I spot a young mare and I watch her carefully as she makes her descent through the ever-present clouds surrounding the top of Mount Cephalos. I guide her to where Askalaphos is sleeping fitfully, dreaming feaverish dreams of holy truth and holy war.
I let her guard him while I put my attention elsewher, searching the southern slopes of Cephalos. If Teous' brood still ranges among the mountain's peaks, then maybe even older orders have survived the tyranny of time.
I find her playing at her old tricks, stalking a young goatherd, playing the old game of hot blood and cold hearts. She shivers when I lay my eyes on her and seeks to hide, but I know what name she bore of old, Ephipania of the Oreiad, and she can not hide from that. She still shivers, but can not prevent me from reclaiming the allegiance she owes me.
I bring her down from her beloved mountain and into the city she hates. The house of Eioneus is a poor excuse for a mansion, but it is a beginning, and for now it will suit Oreiad's task of rebuilding the magical workshops that the Pantokrator pulled down.
The two lovers I send north; to defeat the scattered horse nomads on the Numecrian plains and bring them my into my fold. It is not much of a campaign, but it is a beginning.
October 24th, 2006, 07:12 AM
Early Age Pythium? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/tongue.gif
Nice going though, I like the story format. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif Good luck.
October 24th, 2006, 07:19 AM
Early Age Pythium? http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/tongue.gif
Hah! Your eagle eyed nit-picking pales before the might of my powerful Stealth Edit Technique. Besides, Pythium is easier to spell.
October 24th, 2006, 09:50 AM
Great AAR. No bull****, just great rollplaying and a simple screenshot.
October 24th, 2006, 04:02 PM
Turns 4 and 5
The Numecrian tribes are quickly subjugated. Eioneus calmly dismantles their cavalry and afterwards Askalaphos' fiery charisma dismantles their resentment. Grifec, a chieftan for a smaller clan, even volunteers to hunt down and kill the scattered few who remain loyal to the old Khan.
Pleased with their victory, I quickly send the two lovers marching west to conquer the plains of Wyndun. The populace, if such a miserable collection of wretches could be named such, offers no resistance, only a few weary shrugs. But as they march past the great mounds that lie among the eastern foothills of Mount Cephalon, the dead pour from the graves to give them battle.
Puzzled as to why the dead resists me, I watch more closely, and at the rear of the dessicated bodies who do I see but Arek Iilum, that traiterous vermin who opened my doors to the Pantokrator's army. It pleases me to see him die again, crushed under the unshod hoofs of Askalaphos' mount.
With Ephipania living within the city walls, it once more belongs to its rightful tyrant. Most of the oligarchs are oblivious to the change of rulership, and the few who realises, Ephipania keeps happy. In truth, there is no need for such tawdry games, but they pleases her, so why not? Through all the centuries I have been imprisoned in the void, she never stopped hating me. Such dedication should be rewarded, and perhaps some of her lovers will turn out to have other uses.
I have her instruct Eioneus' sister, Hieronyma, in the old rites and prayers. After her initiation at my spring, I send her north, to preach among the Numecrians and test their loyalty. If she survives among the horsemen I will know that she has the strength to enflame men's minds. If she does not, Eioneus' have other sisters.
One buck-toothed, stuttering maiden is not much of a priesthood, but she is a beginning.
October 24th, 2006, 04:31 PM
Hahaha, I quite liked your last line. XD
Good going anyway. So you already had a run with undeads?
October 25th, 2006, 06:02 AM
Turns 6 and 7
The forests of Thing proves to be ill suited for Eioneus chariots, and massed archers drive them off. Undaunted, Eioneus advances with his infantry into melee and carries the day, but at heavy losses. Good. Now that he and his men are properly bloodied they will be less inclined to clemency and other weaknesses.
I shift my gace north to the plains, and find Grifec still chasing the diminished survivors of the old order. I give him dreams, and send him south with reinforcements. With this help, Eioneus and Askalaphos easily defeats the stubborn resistance of the Ichtyid freemen in Glanis.
The conquest of Glanis removes the last stretch of unguarded border around Arcoscephale, and I can send my two dogs further afield to conquer the lands to the south. I will brook no delays or rest now; I can feel other forces gathering on the western shores of Lake Fortune, and traders bear back rumours of a new Empire rising south of Utonshire. A storm is brewing, and I must have re-erected the Fortress of the Edge before it breaks.
Epiphania has put on her old role as she would a well-worn coat, and with barely a threat from me she betrayed two of her daughters and chained them both to my destiny. Perhaps her freedom is less precious to her than she thinks. The games she plays as my servant are played for far greater stakes than goatherds and old men, and Epiphania always did love her games.
October 25th, 2006, 01:51 PM
Very, very nice. Keep up the good work.
October 25th, 2006, 05:20 PM
Lovely AAR. Would be great to get you in on an RP-heavy MP game sometime. http://forum.shrapnelgames.com/images/smilies/happy.gif
October 26th, 2006, 05:58 PM
Turns 8 and 9
There are three great forces that rule the hearts of men. Power, lust and gold. I am power, Epiphania is my leash on lust and now that my two dogs have control of Nern and the great mines there, I do not want for gold. I set a Numerican petty chief to the task of overseeing the mine and keeping the gold flowing, and urge Eioneus and Askalaphos deeper into the Sleepy Mountains, to reqconquer the old foundations of my old stronghold. I make bold Grifec take his leave of the two lovers and turn back north. I have another task waiting for him.
I watch the streets of Arcoscephale for half a day before I find what I seek in a grey-bearded, aristocratic man overseeing a team of slaves digging a trench. He is not a Kallikrates, but he knows enough of the sacred geometry for my purpose, and I do not have time to wait for a Kallikrates to emerge. I show him to Epiphania, and once she is done with him I send him south in the path of blood my two dogs have left behind them, to start the work of erecting my Fortress of the Edge once more.
Epiphania's daughters have, at long last, prepared the bare bones of my sacred workshops. Feathers of owl and stone-oil ink. Petty trifles and children's toys! But they are a beginning.
October 28th, 2006, 10:09 AM
The two lovers has been at work securing the southern border of the Sleepy Mountain, ensuring Phleibas, the engineer, the time he needs to complete the building. He is of a delicate physique and the journey from Arcoscephale did not sit well with him. He is dying, and only my will and Epihania's allure makes him endure his work despite his fever. I send Hieronyma south to tend him and ensure he lives long enough to oversee the walls and towers be raised. Others can deal with the petty details that follows.
To the north-west, Grifec is scouring the swamps at the mouth of the river Dust, destroying the tribes of lizard-men who make them their home. I have not forgotten how they once sided with the Pantokrator against me, nor have I forgiven.
From Grifec I am told of merchants who ply their trade on Dust, and on rumours they bring of a new power rising in the south, near its springs. Along with the two empires that already threatens my south-western border, this is troubling news. It seems time is no longer my ally. Perhaps the ranging huntesmen of Muspel can be sent out to bring back word from beyond the sight of my still half-closed
October 28th, 2006, 10:37 AM
Nice empire you got there already.
October 31st, 2006, 03:27 AM
Turns 12 and 13
Grifec shows promise. He ruthlessly defeated the tribes of lizardmen at the mouth of Dusk, then for good measure took his army into the western hill country and subjugated that as well in my name. I give him portents and instruct him north. Let him secure the lands to the east of Dusk, while my two dogs starts on their conquers of the eastern bank.
Prograss has gone smoothly on the fortress of the Edge. It matters little now if Phleibas dies or not. He has done his job, and it will soon be ready to once more exhert my will throughout the wild mountain country.
Back in Arcoscephale, I've instructed Ephiphania to recover the old words of calling that the Pantokrator stole from my memory. Progress is slow. She has some of her playthings helping her but they are no replacement for her daughters whom I have sent on other missions. There are more secrets of old that need to be rediscovered. If I am to rule again, I need to find the old sites of power again, and time has hidden them throughly from my view. Once lush and verdant glens are now dark rumoured forests and crystal clear mountain springs have been buried by landslides and earthquakes. It will takes eyes closer to the ground to rediscover them.
The gold from Livenmark does still not flow as it should; the people rise against my slave raiders and roaming bands of braves forces my overseers to send the gold in heavily armed and expensive caravans. I send south a scourge of horsemen from the Numecrian plains. Let me see the Livenmarkers stand against them. If they will not give me gold, they will give me blood.
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