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Back to the Archive The Atlantis Times for December in the Year 4
edited by your trustworthy gamemaster
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signed articles
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Valerian's tribe (9) writes:
Dear Lord,
Regions under your dependence are now populated with numerous inhabitants and the economy of your duchy is rapidly growing.
Will soon need us to create new camps as soon as the road network will be ended.
We have even several months in front of us before this term. The stone which we need makes a long journey since your undergrounds colonies.
We shall hold you informed about the progress of the construction of your roads.
Your faithful servant,
G.
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Red Drogans (129) writes:
The logistics of a large group of armed men is quite expensive.
We are soldiers, so quite used to just bedding down in the field as needed.
However, spending 2 nights in a Town requires rooms. Which requires silver.
We need to eat and trail food just doesn't cut it when living in a town. So, it costs silver.
When we make ready to travel, we stock up for a few days. It costs silver.
Now our liege understands the value of looking after his men.
"Look after your sword and it will look after you."
However, we only carry so much silver on us and a band of men tends to go through it. Specially in town.
We were on the move again but headed for another Town and Home was a long way away.
So, when we came upon a toll bridge, we were a little reluctant to: "cross his palms with silver".
I rode up to the bridge with 2 others. And was met by a nasty looking man with dirty hair and an air of menece about him, backed up by the four men with loaded cross bows at the end of the bridge.
"Stand clear," says I, "we pay no tolls."
"Is that right?" says he, "You'll pay today."
On the other side of the bridge I could see a number of tents with men lounging around. Some, in various states of readyness were watching us. But they had only seen the men on point approach the bridge. And there were 3 of us here now, the rest arrayed behind the caravan waiting to cross if a price can be negatiated.
"Who's in charge here?" Says I.
"His asleep."
"Wake him."
"He'll be here at ten tomorrow."
"NOW!"
"TOMORROW!"
We stared at each other for a while. I backed the horse off the bridge.
He smilled, knowing he had got his way, knowing he would.
I dropped from the horse. Landing infront of him. Approaching him at his level as it were. Like I wanted to converse.
Only, this was my sign. And the sound of bows filled the air.
Three of the cross bows were down. The remaining cross bow was looking for a target, but his leader was between us.
I had him by the throat and was running him backward and off balance and, before he could regain his composure, we hit the bridge side wall. I let go as he toppled over.
More arrows were in the air, now falling among the tents. Pandemodiom had broken out. Men were running for arms, yelling, falling to arrows.
I ran to the end of the bridge where the remaining cross bow was taking cover. Jabbed my sword around the end and caught something.
He screemed. And the cross bow released, firing wildly into the air.
Then there were horses at full gallop going past me.
I hugged the side of the bridge untill they were past.
The sound replaced by that of crashing steel, men grunting, swearing, screaming.
I glanced around the end of the wall to see that I had sliced him from the hip up into his side. He was laying trying to hold the blood in.
The caravan's people were now also streaming across the bridge with arms in hand. They too wanted to join in the plunder.
We aren't here for plunder, but plunder might just solve our logistics problem.
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Order of Chaos (139) writes:
Izzee Loost nervously passed hand signals to his waiting militia units, giving them the order of deployment he wished them to take. The remnants of the Merfolk clan were in sight, and he wanted no misunderstandings about his orders. The attack of the clan had devastated the light troops in and around the city, but somehow they'd managed to hold and win the battle. Now after chasing after them for the past month, he was about to finish off the remnant of the tribe. Assuming his collection of misfits, crazys and cripples could perform their task. Why in the name of all the Skewed-eyed gods he'd ever followed his brother Liikkely to this place he couldn't remember. He must of been temporarily as crazy as his brother and the gutter sweepings he'd convinced to follow him.
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Villagers (200) writes:
Greeting noble Ladies an Lords,
In case this article wins at least some part of the competition all money will be transferred to settlers in Oldreng. They are currently rather poor and will appreciate any help. Any other donations are welcomed :).
The chronicle is written by assistant of Heinrich, the magister of the Villagers' tribe (faction 200).
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They came very late. It was summer of June of the 4th year. Standing in the middle of cold and snowy town of Honess, Heinrich recognized that the era of burst development is over. Everything looked rather dull and quiet. Unlike other realms he visited, Honess appeared to be a small town with virtually no economic activity .Only several bands of entertainers were performing for sleepy citizens but they were too numerous already to join.
Where is everybody Heinrich asked people passing by? Where is the glory of huge empires, where is the might of magic, which evaporates armies and threatens entire continents?
"They are gone into wilderness" was the only answer.
"Well, if there are no more cattle to breed and place for a new theater for us, then we have to find our own place to prosper" decided Heinrich and called for people who still have courage for a new journey.
In a couple of months he got enough townsmen to build his first vessel. It was a shiny beautiful galley, which was his ticket to a new and independent life.
Luckily he was able to contact an ambassador of the Great power, which graciously agreed to give him some land on the shore.
It was a turning point in the life of young tribe, which decided to take the name of "Villlagers". They decided to become peaceful fishermen, who love huge ocean, full of storms and mysteries.
What they will find in their journeys, we will see soon.
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That was the first know part of the Villagers' chronicles, Year 4, June - November.
Written on behalf of Villagers (200)
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Redbull (201) writes:
From Sitting Bull's diary, November, '04:
A carrier pigeon? Finally, some news from others. Mapping efforts continue as do our diplomatic efforts. Who knows what will bear fruit. For those of you that would contact me, use the following email address:
thor@crushedrock.net
I am in the area surrounding Lanteydale and wish to exchange information, establish and strengthen friendships and alliances.
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rumors
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ou're weak. It means you're strong enough to face the truth. Wetting your pants, on the other hand
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Animals ask no questions of you, pass no judgments, and forgive without pause. Oh, and given a chance they'll eat you for lunch.
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RESISTANCE IS FUTILE! YOU WILL BE ASSIM....
oops... sorry. wrong universe.
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old issues of the Atlantis Times can be found in the Times Archive on the Atlantis page http://www.arno-saxena.de/atlantis/
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48
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Sunday
12.09.2010
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