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Strategus => Diplomacy => Topic started by: Bryggan on August 11, 2015, 10:17:38 am

Title: Dramastratus
Post by: Bryggan on August 11, 2015, 10:17:38 am

Previously on Dramastratus:

(click to show/hide)

Quote from: Bryggan on July 10, 2015, 03:55:04 am

Bryggan woke to screams, yells, and trumpets sounding.  He had fallen asleep on his horse, and the sudden cacaphony caused him to fall out of his saddle.  Most of his men had fallen asleep, and now the enemy was tearing through them.  Through the slight moonlight piercing the overhead branches, Bryggan could see nothing but chaos.  The few who had remained awake were vastly outnumbered and were being cut down, while those slumbering were murdered in their sleep.  Bryggan tried to scramble up and grab his sword, but suddenly was aware of a great pain in his chest.

'Damn, a crossbow bolt got me,' he thought.  He grasped around his chest, but could find no bolt and no blood.  His chest felt constricted, like an elephant was sitting on him.  'Fuck this', he thought, 'I gotta fight!"  Summoning all his will power, he stood up and brandished his sword.  He tried to yell a battle cry, but he could not breath.  Through his blurred vision he saw Snicklez, Magafox, Conrad and Steve Rogers frantically trying to defend their sleeping comrades.  Damn good men those- true heroes.  And he could have sworn he seen his wife, the Empress, fighting as well.  He had to help them.

He ran several paces before the dizziness overcame him, and he crashed down in some brush unconscious.

He sort of came to some time later.  He was being dragged through the underbrush by someone he could not make out.  Whoever was pulling him was not a friend- they were taking no care for his comfort, and this was damned uncomfortable.  'Must be Rostham', he figured.  Pulling him out of the battle to slit his throat so he won't have to deal with the political aftermath of killing a prisoner- a regal prisoner.  Or maybe a bandit.  The forests were full of them.  Either he would be killed and stripped of his armour, or perhaps his captor would recognize him and ransom him.  Though who would pay the higher ransom?  His friends or his enemies?

Bryggan tried moving again.  He couldn't.  He was so damn weak.  His chest was giving him occasional stabbing pain, and he felt ill.  But no blood.  Had someone hit him in the chest with a hammer?  Whatever it was, he felt this was the end.  Either a slit throat or a slow death.  He felt this should bother him, but it didn't.  He had had a good life.  More adventures than most men- a peasant, a vassal, High King, a trader, and finally Emperor.  Though an ignominious death did not suit him.  He had meant to die gloriously on the battle field, surrounded by slain enemies, knowing that his heirs would take his place... ooh, more pain in his heart.

He could no longer open his eyes.  The figure dragging him pulled him through a shallow forest stream.  The water was cold, filling through the cracks in his armour.  He could feel the rounded rocks sliding under his armour.  'Must be easier for him, pulling me through this,' was his last thought before oblivion overtook him.

Exactly one month ago:

The small mountainside encampment was full of rejoicing.  Tambourines rang and shouts and songs filled the air. Temüjin, the chief's son, a mere lad of 16 years had killed his first warrior.  And not just any warrior, but a lowlander, clad in heavy transitional armour, with the fierce weapons of the city folk on him.  Truly an auspicious first kill.

This was a good omen, for these steppe bandits had fallen on hard times since Eques took the lowlands.  Their patrols made banditry difficult if not impossible, and without thieving life in the highlands was difficult.  But now Temüjin had killed a mighty warrior.  An old one, to be honest, but very scarred- a true veteran.  This was a good sign indeed.

But, alas, the bandit camp's joy was to be short lived.  For suddenly, amidst all the dancing and festivities, the corpse, placed in a central bier ready to be lit come sundown, suddenly sat up.

The music stopped, the dancing stopped, all conversations stopped.  Everyone stared at the corpse, who was sitting up, very much alive, and was staring back at them.  "chadz' Bloody Balls," it cursed, "I'm alive!"

Everyone froze, stunned.  After a very long awkward silence, the figure stood up.  "I would like to thank you for saving my life," he said, "when I fell in the forest during my battle, I thought I was a goner.  But obviously one of you found me and pulled me to safety.  I had no idea if it was a friend or foe, but I am happy to see it was a friend."

For the first time since the 'body' woke up, all eyes left the assumed corpse and turned on Temüjin.  "No,' he cried, 'he had no heartbeat!  He was dead!"

The eyes on him now turned to glares.  "You claimed to have killed this warrior,' Temüjin's father Chinggis said, 'and now we see it is a lie.  You are no man, Temüjin, you are still a boy- put him back in the women's camp.  As for the stranger, we shall sacrifice him at high noon tomorrow."

                                                                                                   

The stranger paced in the yurt.  He knew he was surrounded by guards, and escape seemed impossible.  He had to think of something.  He dug his hands in his pockets and felt a wad of paper.  He opened it and read it.  'Yo, dude, I know your aren't into science and shit,' it said, 'but on the 11th there is going to be a solar eclipse at 10 am.  Like the sun going black for a bit.  Thought you might think that was cool.'  The stranger smiled.  The paper was signed Wix the Engineer.  The kind of guy who would know that shit.

He yelled for the guards.  When they came he announced, "Behold.  I am the Chosen One of chadz.  I am your prisoner, but I tomorrow at ten o'clock I shall show you my powers.  Assemble all your tribe and witness my powers over nature!"

The guards shrugged. "Ok,' the leader said, but can you make it 11?  There's a solar eclipse tomorrow, and most of us want to see it."

*            *           *

AT 11 o'clock the next day, the stranger stood before the tribe who were waiting expectantly.  The solar eclipse was actually pretty boring, just the sun going dark for a bit, then lighting up again.  They had all yawned collectively, and were now ready for something exciting.  The prisoner, however, looked quite shaken and nervous.

Time passed, and just when the steppe bandits were thinking, 'fuck this, let's kill this shithead', a hand appeared out of the sky and pointed at the captive, and the voice of chadz rang out, saying "Deux ex machina!"

The people stood frozen, speechless.

Except for one.  "Fuck you fuckers, fuck you all," screamed Temüjin, "He is dead!!!"  And with that he charged forward and hit the captive on the head with a great maul.  Despite his youth, he smashed harder than Plumbo and Rohypnol put together, and the captive dropped.  And it was the last thing he did, for 30 tartar arrows from 30 horn bows pierced him.

The silence that followed was deafening.  Finally Chinggis went to the captive and checked for a pulse.  "He lives", he said, "and I name him Heartless, for Temüjin said he had no heartbeat.."

*            *           *

Heartless loved the life of a bandit.  He often wondered what he was before that mallet struck him in the head, and it worried him.  Had he been a peasant?  He hoped not.  He had no memories from before that fateful smack, but he seemed born for the steppe bandit life.  He could ride a horse with great skill, but was not able to master the horse archery required of a steppe bandit.  Maybe he was just a cow herd before this.  True, he was found with heavy armour on him, but from what he heard all the lowlanders were given such gear for battles.

But whatever he had been, he was pure bandit now.  And he had a wealthy target in his sights now.  Some filthy rich merchant wandering about stupidly.  Heartless crept low among the bushes.  His horse was lying down too, as it was trained to do so.  What the hell, he would rush him now.  He grunted a command to his steed, which jumped up just as Heartless mounted in one fluid motion, then the two rushed the merchant.  A fine fat ransom, Heartless thought to himself chuckling.  Too easy.

But then, out of nowhere, 6 pikemen appeared.  Heartless pulled on the reins, but knew it was too late.  His horse would be pierced, and himself soon after.  This merchant was no fool.

"HOLD" the merchant yelled.  The 6 pikemen held, as did Heartless.  'WTF' he thought.

"Bryggan!  Is that you?" the merchant cried.

"Um, sure," Heartless replied, happy not to be skewered.

"It is I, Lord Zenox," the merchant said, "I see you are following the plan, though I should warn you, things have changed.  Durquba has not fallen yet, so Acre will not be joining you soon.  King James is holding fast, and the enemy is throwing troops upon troops upon its walls."

"Um, good?" Heartless responded.

"Definitely good," Zenox, "While they enjoy the xp, they are wearing their armies down.  Perhaps soon we will be on equal footing, and a real war may begin."

"Sure, that would be great," Heartless said, eyeing the pikemen.

"But," Zenox continued, "I'm sure you are here incognito, right?"  And he winked.

"Um, yeah," Heartless said, wondering what incognito meant.

"Okay, I'll sneak off then," Zenox continued, "but watch out for bandits.  There's a lot of them out here, which is why I always keep my personal guard close.  Fortunately only the stupidest ones try attack me."  And with a hearty laugh he left.

*            *           *

A week or two later, a prisoner was brought into camp.  Heartless thought nothing of it, for this man had only damaged gear but the bandits had decided to keep him alive in case there was at least some measly ransom.  He had no interest in the fellow, but he had accidentally caught his eye and the guy had winked at him.  A knowing wink.  Finally curiosity had got the better of him, and he went to him.

"I am the one they call Heartless," he said, "of the Ragged Dog clan.  Who are you?"

"Right", smiled the prisoner, "I'm Bl.. er, Bey Liu, of the Horny Bitch clan".  And then he winked again.

Heartless wrinkled his nose.  What the hell was this?  He needed to find out.  With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the guards.  As soon as they left, the prisoner Bey Liu smiled at him.  "Dammit Bryggan, where the fuck were you?  The empire is wondering what the hell..."

He would have continued, but Chinggis entered.  "Who is this Bryggan you are talking about?" he demanded.

"Um," Bey Liu stammered, "well, there is this empire in NA, and this guy looks just like the emperor there.  I myself don't know too much, as I am just a mere steppe bandit.  Just like you guys."

"Take him away', Chinggis ordered.  When the guards dragged Bey Liu away, Chinggis looked at Heartless.  "You told me about the merchant, and now this fellow thinks you are this NA emperor too.  But I do not believe this.  NA leaders are skilled in battle, where you kinda suck, and NA Kings and Emperors have class and manners, whereas you... well, you are peasant stock."

"Does it matter?" Bryggan laughed, "I have fooled two people.  Imagine if I went to NA?  I could fool many more, and demand gold and women and livestock to bring back to the village."

"News travels slow to these parts," Chinggis said, "but I have heard of a Bryg Khan.  The last I heard, he had almost taken over all of NA.  I am sure by this time he has done so.  If this is the case, you could bring many riches back to our lands."

Heartless laughed and smacked old Chinggis on the back.  "I think it's a crazy, stupid plan, so I love it."

*            *           *

The men were weary, the donkeys were weary and the weather was dreary.  Heartless, aka the Emperor Bryggan, had had his first experience of wine in Curaw, and it proved much stronger than the fermented yak's milk he had been drinking for the last month.  He had awoken on a saddle, hungover as shit, with his servants telling him he had decided to go to Reyvadin to buy horses at 3:30 in the morning cuz somebody in the bar had told him that was the place to go.  'What the hell', he figured, 'horses are important."

And as he was thinking this, he heard a very sharp 'HALT!"

Kinda made him think he should have posted outriders and perhaps a vanguard.  But it was too late.

"Who the fuck are you?" He mumbled.

"Lord Thalion, Warden of Mithrim," the other answered, "if you come in peace, you may trade in unrestricted zones, but you.. wait... Bloody hell, is that Bryggan?"

Heartless quickly woke up at that.  He eyed the patrol.  Nice, shiny armour.  Rich.  No doubt a vassal of this Emperor Bryggan.

"Yes, yes," he answered, "Iam the Bryg Khan... er, Emperor.  I, um, currently have need of all your armour and gear, so please hand it over."

"Bloody hell, Bryggan, "Thalion answered, "you were cocky before, but this takes the cake."

Heartless's heart froze.  SHIT!  He tried to bluff.  "ER, um, Thaldorian, I order you to lay down your arms.

"Fuck you, Bryggan," Thalion said, "dammit, you used to be cool."  He then wheeled his horse back to his own troops and ordered them into formation. Heartless ran back and tried to get his men in position.  "We barely got any weapons," his Noyan shouted at him, 'you just bought a shitload of armour and nothing else."

"Oh fuck," Heartless thought, "Can things get any worse?"  And as he thought this, a soldier rode up to him, breathless.  "Another army is approaching from behind sir."

'Oh double fuck," Heartless thought.  Then a second rider approached.  "The leader of the new army, sir," he said, 'wishes to talk to you.  And um, it is a lady."

"Let her in", he mumbled.  As far as cons were going, this one was failing fast.

The lady soon approached, and, Heartless was glad to see, was extremely pretty. But she walked like a man, and had a gruff voice like a man. "By the Virgin!" she scowled, "you fuct up again!"  With that she slapped him full on the face.  Heartless was stunned, but he knew how to calm down pretty girls.  "Perhaps if we discussed this over a glass of wine", he suggested, knowing a girl with a buzz on was putty in his hands.  But that was not to be.  She slapped him again.  "You stupid drunk," she yelled, "I should leave you to die!  By marrying you I may have got an empire but I also got a stupid oaf of a husband who makes my life more miserable than that of the poorest peasant girl."

"Um, my wife?" Heartless said.

"GRRRRRRRRRR!", she continued, "I was better off a widow, but I see you're back, so I'll give you some bloody weapons.  Just make sure you make good use of them, or you'll be on the couch for the rest of your life!"

"Um, ok," Heartless said.

*            *           *

The battle was bloody.  Bodies were piled up in the stream between the two armies, and the water ran red.  What had seemed like a gank turned into an honest battle.  But Heartless was alive.  He had won.  He also learned not to underestimate his enemy.  Skipping the forward spawns and the equipment chests... even a healing tent... had cost his men a lot.  They had all fought like heroes.  They obeyed orders, held the stream side, then attacked like a true army.  Heartless liked that.  Perhaps he would continue to play the part of emperor for a little longer.  Bryggan the Emperor.  Bryg Khan.

Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: BlackxBird on August 11, 2015, 12:57:21 pm

u may make a radioplay for me? This is just too much :o

Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: Thalion_Menelvagor on August 11, 2015, 08:37:21 pm

Clearly your not on the same nerd level, Blackbird.

Good to see you back in the fray, Bryggan, err... Heartless. ;-) Enjoyed the rp.

Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: BlackxBird on August 11, 2015, 10:29:58 pm

I'm Bl.. er, Bey Liu, of the Horny Bitch clan

dafuq is that? Bey Liu. No idea if that's french chinese spanish or just gay :o. And reaaaaally, horny bitch clan?

Just joking, awesome what u made there  :D But next time gimme a normal name okay?

Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: njames89 on August 11, 2015, 10:40:16 pm

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Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: Bryggan on August 12, 2015, 02:32:16 am

Quote from: BlackxBird on August 11, 2015, 10:29:58 pm

I'm Bl.. er, Bey Liu, of the Horny Bitch clan

dafuq is that? Bey Liu. No idea if that's french chinese spanish or just gay :o. And reaaaaally, horny bitch clan?

Just joking, awesome what u made there  :D But next time gimme a normal name okay?

Ah sorry bud, but that wasn't you, it was Horse Lord Bei Liue.  He had been defeated by the Wardens earlier.  Be egocentric much?  But now that I think of it, it would have been pretty clever if I had bumped into you on the Steppes.  As we never faced each other in battle (yet), we would not have recognized each other and a meeting could have been entertaining.  But I didn't think of it, so a missed opportunity there.

Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: BlackxBird on August 12, 2015, 07:26:12 am

I expected something cuz I got kicked outta the steppe by james - expected I'm the prisoner :3 And well, horny bitch clan...

Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: Bryggan on August 12, 2015, 07:53:08 am

Go get yourself killed again, and I promise I'll put you in the RP.

Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: mcdeath on August 13, 2015, 07:05:55 am

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Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: Thalion_Menelvagor on August 13, 2015, 06:07:08 pm

On the road a ragged and battleworn column of men approached the stronghold of the Wardens, known as Ismirala castle. Their banners still displayed aloft, was ragged, having been shot to pieces by enemy archers, and fought over in the melee. Soaked in blood and the river water its blue seemed several shades darker, yet in the eerie light of dusk it made the silver star of Mithrim shine all the brighter.  Silently, except for the tramp of their boots and the faint chime of mail and clank of plate they entered those hallowed gates to sanctuary and safety.

The Lord Warden Finnian Tiercel was looking over a detailed map of the tundra when the Viceroy found him. Thalion, still clad in his battle gear, transitional plate with dents and scraps, torn tabbard stained with blood form himself and his foes alike. A simple nod was all he had strength to give in way of salute to his liege lord as he moved across the stone floor to where the carved wooden army tokens were kept for the strategy map. He was looking for a piece, a specific piece that had been removed from the map once before. Finding it, he took it in hand, closing his fingers around it tightly and walked back to the war map and placed the wooded piece down with a thud next to a little river that recently ran red with the blood of the north. The piece was carved in an unmistakable likeness, a man, tall with broad shoulders and bearded. Even roughly carved out of wood, there seemed to be a mad glint in those eyes. "My lord Warden, the Emperor has returned."

Finnian of House Tiercel looked at the wooden piece for a moment before breaking into a grim smile. "Fires will rage throughout the north. Bryggan was never one to sit passive behind his walls. Call all troops to attention! We shall meet them in the field wherever we can! Let beacons be lit, Mithrim, awake!" by now the shouting was drawing attention, guards, heralds, courtiers and lords now gathering to see what the commotion was.  "Awake, all ye armies of Mithrim! Gather your weapons, swords, axes, spears and pikes! Bow and dagger! Awake for the foe is near! Awake the battle fury of old and let every hand move to strike the foe! Our enemies are nigh, we shall meet them in the field! For honor,  for glory, for Mithrim!!!"  The chant resounded in the halls of Ismirala. "For honor, for glory, for Mithrim!" 

When at last the chanting fell silent, Finnian looked at Thalion and spoke "Thalion, summon a war council between all our captains and allies. We shall not take this turn of events lightly. Yet if Bryggan has intention on rebuilding his strongholds in the north, they shall find Mithrim steel standing between them and their designs!" 

Thalion nodded, "It will be glorious!" he said before promptly collapsing on the floor. The wounds from the river battle had taken their tole,  has had the march to Ismirala afterwards. Perhaps Mithrim would have to make do without its Viceroy in the field.

 

Title: Re: Dramastratus
Post by: Bryggan on September 12, 2015, 05:14:35 pm

A bit of boring RP:

(click to show/hide)

Bryggan was rip-roaring drunk.  He had been since the fall of Curaw.  Curaw had been the heart of his Empire, and it had remained in his hands since his rise to power.  The loss had hit him hard, and he had spent all his time since then looking for booze and avoiding Talanarsis, who tended to beat him while yelling, "Snap out of it!!!".  He had no plans on snapping out of it.

He had managed to find a small cask of brandy in the kitchens, and was now staggering to the safety of the stables to drink it.  Upon entering the stable he tripped over the threshold, and his cask went flying into one of the donkey's stalls.  He crawled after it, blurry eyes trying to focus on it and forgot to pay attention to the occupant.  The donkey did not like the intruder, and swiftly kicked him in the head.

Bryggan went flying.  Trying to shake off the pain, he noticed that the donkey was staring at him.  "BRYGGAN!" the donkey said.

"What the hell?" Bryggan said, bewildered.

"Hear me, I am the Voice of chadz!", the donkey continued, "I am tired of you pissing about.  I raised you from a mere mercenary to Emperor.  But you let it go to your head, and you forgot your way.  So I sent an Eu force to punish you, yet all you do is fight the Wardens and my chosen ones, the Hounds."

"Wait, I thought I was your chosen one!"

"Well, there's different levels of chosen," the donkey said, "but you used to be a fierce warrior, and now you've turned all pussy.  Drop all your trappings of power, and go strike against Eques.  They are meant to be defeated, which is why they are always whining about not being attacked."

"So you will guarantee my victory against them then?" Bryggan asked.

"Oh no, not at all.  But you might get lucky.  The important thing is to get some battles happening.  But my kicking you in the head is my sign that you have been chosen to fight those Eu scum."

"Wait, aren't you Austrian?"

"Oh yeah."

*     *     *     *     *

Bryggan woke up on the stable floor.  The donkey was quietly eating its hay.  He prodded it, but it said nothing.  Still, he remained convinced he had had a vision from chadz.  Filled with a new purpose, he went to go find Tal.

When Tal saw him coming, she picked up a stick and advanced towards him.

"Wait!" Bryggan cried, "I'm not drunk- I've snapped out of it!"

Tal's eyes narrowed.  "Really," she said, "I find that hard to believe."

"No, it's true.  I recieved a sign from chadz.  We are to go to the Desert and destroy Eques.  We shall get rid of our earthly titles, and become mere soldiers of chadz sent to destroy the enemy of NA."

Tal considered.  Bryggan's eyes, which had always carried a hint of insanity, looked more glazed and mad than ever.  Still, he looked sober.  And perhaps this foolish chadz dream he had might inspire him enough to actually take some lands.  And start rebuilding an empire.  And perhaps, under her control, it might be a real empire, not just a collection of drunken warlords.

"Ok," she agreed, "we will go on your holy war."

"Excellent", Bryggan said, "now to be part of this, you must accept the sign from chadz."

"And what is that?"

"You must get kicked in the head by a donkey," Bryggan answered, "For we are the Holy Ass Kicked, chosen by the Hoof of chadz himself.  Here, let us go to the stables so you too can receive His touch."

"Oh," Tal said, "it's alright, i got kicked in the head by chadz earlier."

"What, really?  You don't have a mark on your forehead like mine," Bryggan said, pointing to the huge swollen gash on his forehead."

"I don't bruise easily like you do," Tal answered.

TL;DR- I am making a small faction to wage a Holy War on the infidels (Eques), the Holy Ass Kicked.