PBEM Game: Yarnspinners 2 (Running)

[quantum_mechani]

oops... sorry guys, I totally forgot about this game. I will get in my turn as soon as I can this evening.

[The_Tauren13]

Ah, so youre still with us. Ill wait for you to get your turn in then. But because I dont have internet at home, I dont know when Ill be able to host it. At the very latest, next monday morning, but hopefully before then.

[quantum_mechani]

hmm, turns out I was wrong about no strange happenings in my empire, a commander carrying over 30 gems worth of items disappeared without a trace...

[djo]

With the game moving again, now is the time for all to go and read the various turn 30 yarns again, with their momentous and terrible happenings.

Thus you will be prepared for...

Vanheim turn 33


In which we are once more concerned with the mail.

* * *

To Belletennares of Alteion, General of the Armies of Vanheim, Prophet of Vethru

Cousin,

I have just received a disturbing message from Pherios. I've enclosed a copy with this letter. Wait until you are alone before you read it--it will disturb you, and its contents should be kept secret. I have not yet shown it to Anteirios and Mistepeillia, nor to anyone in House Lunetellerion. I hope you agree with me; I thought it best to wait until you and I have investigated further.

If what he says is true, we have a big problem. I hope you can look into this as soon as possible. I will be asking questions of my own.

Love,

Petema

* * *

Dear Molly,

I hope you are doing well, and that my leaving hasn't caused any problems for you. If Vethru is bothering you, please talk to my aunt. She has a lot of influence, and she will protect you, even from him.

I am writing because I need a favor. You know what I'm trying to investigate. It would be helpful for me to know where Vethru is, and where he is planning to be. If you know anything about his schedule, official or unofficial, could you please tell me?

To reply to this message, address a letter to "Kineros" and bring it to the tavern on Green Dolphin Street. It will find me.

I hope this will all be over soon, so our lives can get back to normal. If you have any news of my family, I would like to hear it. I can't bring myself to write to them. What could I tell them?

Take care,

Pherios

* * *

Vethru

You'd think that a god wouldn't have to do paperwork, but it turns out the more you rule, the more bureaucracy there is. It doesn't matter if your underlings are humans, elves, dwarves, hobbits, orcs, goblins, ogres, dragons, unicorns, Martians, Orion slave girls, clones, androids, or hyper-intelligent shades of the color blue. And it gets even worse when your minions are mindless. They need a lot of looking after. You end up with a Byzantine hierarchy of middle managers: the zombies report to a zombie team leader, who reports to a zombie shift supervisor, who reports to a zombie department head, and then you have the manager and regional manager of zombies, and if you've got a big enough empire, you've got six more levels above that. By this time, human resources, excuse me, zombie resources is eating one-third of your budget.

Killing your minions when they screw up just makes your training costs go through the roof.

And don't get me started when they unionize...

I'd finally gotten through all the routine correspondence, and it was time to think strategically. "Ji! Do you know anyone discreet over on Triastellus?"

"Yeah, I know some people. What do you want? Someone good with languages, or history? Or a priest?"

"The last two," I say. "I want to know more about Alteion. What he did, what kind of skills and talents he had."

"Jeez, boss, half the people on your staff are related to him. Ask them. No need to send me up the hill."

"I want the truth, not his family's impression thereof. And some things, you don't ask the family."

I can see Ji's little bird brain churning as he decides whether or not he wants to know what I mean by that. As usual, curiosity wins. "Like what?"

"Is his body actually buried in his tomb on Triastellus?"

He squawks. "Boss, I know where you're going with this, and it's a big mistake. They'd hate us forever!"

"We may not have a choice. Vanheim is still weak, and I don't want to be at the mercy of every nation that threatens us."

"But the Pythium mess has been taken care of," says Ji. "Ermor is falling apart. What are you worried about?"

"Think. They've already just about declared war."

"Oh, right. They are kind of fanatical," says Ji. "Still, there's got to be another way. If you do what I think you're thinking, I don't think the lady will stand for it. She's still mad about Galameteia. If you piss her off any more, she'll probably take all her dwarves and disappear into the hills. Like you-know-who did."

"They are my dwarves, not hers," I tell him, but it's beside the point. I might be able to do without the lady, but losing Pherios hurt. Molly probably sees as much, but she just doesn't have the experience to interpret it correctly. And I couldn't afford to alienate Belletennares, either. Damn House Alteion. Maybe it'd be best to let the old man rest.

"Anyway, I have another letter for her. Would you take it over this afternoon? I need an update on the research progress. Be as nice as you can. Sweet talk her."

He says, "I'll do my best. But you know how women are..."

I did. You can't not-live with them, you can't not-live without them.

* * *

To Lord Vethru, God of Vanheim,

Sire,

I am writing to report a disruption in Birman Highs. Last night, Lord Pherios of Alteion sneaked into our compound and entered the mines. He visited the gem extracting operation but did not interfere with it. He did not harm the guards or cause any damage, and the operation continues on schedule.

He did, however, break into the lower areas that you sealed off. It is reported that he spent nearly an hour there. As per your standing orders, we did not attempt to restrain him. He did not reply when we hailed him, and we quickly lost him once he rode into the forest.

Your servant,

Utreius of Vanheim

* * *

Anteirios

The message arrived with all the others. It appeared to be the plainest of them, lacking any elaborate official seals, and written on plain, inexpensive paper. Yet it was the most extraordinary of the lot.

It was unsigned, and it was printed in a simple script that effectively disguised the author's hand. I deduced it was probably dictated in any case.

The contents had been masterfully crafted. Each time I read it, I found another subtle implication or nuance of expression that further piqued my curiosity. Each sentence, apparently innocent, joined with its brethren to culminate in an invitation for me to consider the wisdom and motivation of certain actions and decisions of Vethru.

And yet, they didn't--they wouldn't, to another man. This was clear, after the fifth and sixth readings. The events were discussed obliquely, tangentially, never directly. The conclusions would only be drawn by someone with a certain turn of mind. I knew the writer, and he, she, or they knew me, well enough to juxtapose the precise combination of observations that would compel me to investigate the issues raised.

I assembled a list of persons who were both that familiar with me and who also had access to the information in the letter. After rejecting all of them, I consider combinations of two, then three, then more of them. None of them explained the letter to my satisfaction. This was puzzling. The familiarity was so strong that I could not have overlooked any potential authors.

I called for more wood for the stove and more hot tea. I began reading the letter a seventh time. The clues were before me. I would find them and deduce the answers to the two mysteries: what was Vethru up to, and who wanted me to know about it?

* * *

Dear Pherios,

It's so strange with you not here. Everyone treats me funny because they think I can see their future. Everyone human, that is. Your people seem to accept it more easily. I guess they're used to the magic and everything. Petema is especially understanding. I think I would go mad if I weren't staying with her now.

Vethru hasn't been bothering me. Actually, he's been very nice. He said that I shouldn't worry about you, because you are very smart and very capable and you knew magic. He also told me it was OK if I kept your secrets from him. He said he trusted me to do the right thing. And he was so understanding that I told him that I'd do my best to keep listening to the future without you. But later I figured that he really did want me to tell him about you, and that's why he was being nice, so now I'm mad at him for that.

And I know he probably wants to know where you are, but I really had to write, so I told Petema, and she said that she could get a letter to that tavern without Vethru knowing.

I'm writing because I heard him catching up with you. It's going to happen soon, and I don't know how it's going to turn out. I hope he doesn't catch you, and I'm scared for you. And not just because of him. I don't know where it is you are when he finds you, but it's dark. There's a lot of confusion. And then it gets really bad.

I don't even want to think about it. You warned me. You told me someday I'd hear awful things. I did. I haven't slept in two days, because when it gets dark, I hear them. They whisper in the dark. If you hear them, Pherios, run away! I don't want to think about what happens after. You've never heard screaming like that. Or maybe you have. But I hope not.

I don't know what else to say. I'm trying to keep working, but it's hard. I hear things, but I don't understand what's going on like you did. If you can write back, please tell me what you've been seeing. I need to know if I'm doing this right. OK?

Please be careful!!!

Your friend,

Molly

[Sedna]

Marignon, Turn 34

Muszinger

How did it come to this?

Father Muszinger gazed over the smoking ruins of the great library at Barra. The words of a hundred generations burned beneath those blackened columns, and the twisted, gruesome corpses of the sages lay all about. One man had died on the steps of the library -- unable to run quickly with his stack of scrolls, a knight's lance had ripped his body asunder, and his blood now stained those scraps of paper he had sought to protect and oozed slowly down the stairs...

---

"The sacrifice of blood is not specifically forbidden, Father -- legend says that during the fall some noble Church fathers advocated an alliance with the infernal devils against the greater peril of death made manifest."

"That is legend, and folly, and heresy, Wic!"

"But Father..."

"Enough, give me peace for a little while. Leave!"

Muszinger sank down in a chair and stared into the depths of the fire. What day was it? Where was he? The Mountains of Madness, yes...

They had marched here in splendor after defeating the Pythium army. Here, where the arch-theurgs of Pythium had murdered Aftial. These mountains were now made sacred by that act, and though all in the Church agreed that death could not hold back the mightiest of the LORD's servants -- not with the end so close -- still some vengeance had to be delivered unto the evil purple empire, and a church would need to be built at the spot where the Goddess of Courage had ascended into heaven.

The first week in the Mountains had been exciting. It had been a long time since the Inquisition's work had been so rewarding. No petty heresies about which side of the bread was the godly one to butter like they had back home -- these people openly worshipped the oracle and openly celebrated the slaughter of God's holy servant. Children played with evil-looking Aftial dolls and gleefully recreated her defeat at the hands of the teleporting band of arch-theurgs (each of whom had a special super-power in the game). Fortunately the toys were all made of wood and served as kindling for their owner's pyres. Yes, the Mountains had been cleansed and made righteous over the wails of the damned and the cries of the heretics. Though hard work, it had been accomplished swiftly. The new church was dedicated, and the land made safe and orderly when the messengers of doom started to arrive.

First came the news that Pythium had qualified for membership in the great alliance. Muszinger had personally bound the fate of Marignon with three other kingdoms in order to defeat the growing southern menace. Now the foolish terms for membership had been met by the one empire the alliance was supposed to last long enough to destroy -- and just as they stood on the edge of destruction!

Next came news that Aftial had returned to Marignon -- welcome news in itself, but she had stayed there with the Three Above and pardoned Pythium for killing her.

And then the crushing blows -- the Archbishop of Marignon published reports that the kingdoms of C'tis and Vanheim were using death magic in their wars against Pythium -- the Archbishop of Elkland had been recommunicated (they had had to invent that word) in exchange for a mighty gift of twenty water gems to the war effort -- the inquisition was to be placed under the personal control of the Archbishop of Avoca -- Muszinger's army was to disband, the monies for their wages being required to pay the army already (already!) fighting the undead in the shadow lands -- Muszinger, Wic and Polgrave were to return to Marignon to face trial for heresy.

Sitting by the fire, Muszinger took up the heresy charge and stared blankly at it. There was a knock, and the Archbishop of Polgrave entered.

"Father..."

"How many of these have I signed in my time?" Muszinger asked, holding up the charge. "Bitter reversal of fortune."

"Father, we must take action."

"Yes. But what? Are you here to offer another deal with the devil like Wic? A chance to sell our souls to the infernal forces to gain strength to conquer our political enemies? No, of course not. Your study is death itself. Surely you are here to argue that we must side with the darkness to counter these charges that our allies are friends of death!" His voice rose a little, on the edge of breaking into hysterical laughter.

"You do me wrong Father, I urge no such thing. The power and danger of death are well known to me, true, but I would never argue that another should take up my burden, be tortured by the same inky blackness which stalks my dreams. No, I am here to discuss practical matters. You must charge Marignon with heresy youself. Have the inquisition -- those who are still loyal to you -- move out in force to quash these vicious rumors. You must take steps to defeat the enemies of our LORD and yourself."

"Must I, Polgrave?"

"Yes. Time is of the essence."

"But... oh God, forgive your humble servant! The rumors must be true. I have spoken myself with spies who saw such a thing. They say the ruler of Vanheim is a foul undead thing, and the dragon Cole? The whole race of C'tis? Who led Ermor into the night, Polgrave? Which treacherous, stinking vermin poisoned the mighty empire, the mighty church, and brought death incarnate into a good and wholesome world? We had thought, I know, deluded ourselves that these animals had put such evil behind them, but a lizard cannot change its scales."

"My dear friend. No-one has been a more zealous defender of the faith than yourself. But even if the charges are true, it is treason for Marignon to usurp control in this fashion, and heresy to not put on formal trial the people who make such claims. But I know why this is so. Their information comes not from our own loyal spies, but from the angel-killing masters of deception in Pythium. Their words are lies because of their source, and Marignon knows this, this is why he hides behind treason. Take the fire of faith and the torch of the inquisition, and shine light into this dark secret, expose its evil roots!"

"I could do as you say, but how can we win? Our army's salary is cut. We must pillage enemy lands or disband our force and be left powerless. With Aftial now preaching forgiveness, how can we lead the troops into battle against Pythium? And yet we cannot stay here."

The door burst open, and for a moment Wic hung there in the shadow, his robes drooping from his outstretched arms like some hideous bat.

"My lords! It is a good day to die!"

"What new devilry is this?"

"None whatsoever." Wic stood aside, and a man moved into the room. A weather-beaten man in dirty brown robes, leaning on his spear and trying to catch his breath. "I present St. Onbec, the angry."

A stunned silence filled the room. Then Polgrave ran over to offer the man a chair.

"Are you for real?"

The man stared in Muszinger's eyes, and his face shone with a holy light. "More real in this world than you, rat."

"Why you!" Muszinger rose to smite the insolent scout, but Wic swiftly interposed himself.

"Hear him out. He brings our salvation."

"What lies!"

"I saw the serpent masters, Pythium, at Boddern Weald, scarce one month ago. Their foul magicks have conjured up some dispossessed spirits to fight against the lizards."

"My God."

"He was not there that day, for the lizards did not hesitate to raise the dead in their own turn."

"And you will swear to this?"

"By my spear and unto the living face of God."

"You see what this means, Father?" said Wic. "For a little while at least we can hold the army together fighting the damned lords of Pythium. Marignon's power cannot reach us while we retain our force, and the men will not complain once they are fighting the shadow of death even here. This is our key to our survival, and the gates of power back home."

Muszinger turned away to look into the fire again. "My friends, all you say is true. But this is not the key to salvation, but the footstep of doom. Vanheim, C'tis, Pythium... these now have all joined the darkness of Ermor. Are we alone to stand against the night? It was always so, but can we survive divided? While Elkland marches on the lizards in the north, and Marignon fights the greater shadow, we fight in vain here in the south against yet another race fallen into necromancy! The end is coming. It is almost upon us, and the LORD's return will not be to a bright clean world, but to a shadowy waste, where foul things hold sway and the living wander like ghosts in the night. We are all doomed."

Wic laughed, "You worry too much, Father. We, loyal servants, will always be protected as long as we do what is right-- and now we know that it is both right and convenient to continue the war against Pythium for as long as we have strength. Perhaps the LORD intends us to die in these Mountains, but I do not think so. I say we march into the heart of Pythium. Strike the library at Barra, and put a stop to the heathen learning that goes on there. Already the knights are agitating to ride there, in the hopes of finding clues about their precious grail. March out. Fight out little part of the greater struggle, and let God determine where we fall."

"Yes," said Muszinger. "Do what you will."

---

And so Muszinger watched the fires erase history. Pythium had used no death magic in the battle, although they had sacrificed many young girls to summon lesser devils from Hell. Onbec (or whoever he really) had disappeared again into the wild, taking Muszinger's sense of direction with him. Why continue this battle? Why fight this fight? For now, he was just reacting. Just trying to hold his army together long enough to see his way back to Marignon, and the Angel, and God.

[quantum_mechani]

I'm really sorry to do this to you guys after you delayed the game and reran the turn for me, but I'm afraid I'm dropping out afterall. Losing all my sages was pretty devastating morale wise, considering I almost set them all to retreat but decided that it was to much effort and nothing was going to get to them that turn (I thought I had a peace treaty with marignon... I made the mistake of assuming that backstory about national factions would not translate to actual 'rogue' armies). Since the last of my interest in the game is now pretty much gone, I really can't justify taking the time for the game anymore.

The problem with these slow moving long term games is it is really slow and painful to just tough it out when you are not enjoying the game anymore.

[Alneyan]

Would it help to take over my Pangaea? I have done very little, but I have a hoard of gems, so you might be able to do something with them.

[Sedna]

I would like to apologize to both Quantum and puffyn though: as a person (and a general dominions players) I'm really not such a bastard. But... roleplaying as the Inquisition I feel I have a bit of a standard to uphold.

[puffyn]

As a counterpoint I would like to offer your nastiness as Cthulu in the original Yarnspinners. Perhaps next game (Yarnspinners 3, anyone?) you should play a fuzzy-kittens-and-flowers kind of race. Someone inoffensive and noble, like Man, or Pangaea, or perhaps T'ien Ch'i....

To quantum: I can understand your desire to leave, but just wanted you to know how greatful I was that you summoned enough interest in the game to march your huge army on my capitol. Thanks, that was very good of you. Are you going to write one last yarn?

[quantum_mechani]

puffyn said:

To quantum: I can understand your desire to leave, but just wanted you to know how greatful I was that you summoned enough interest in the game to march your huge army on my capitol. Thanks, that was very good of you. Are you going to write one last yarn?

Well, I assume it was my now-AI that did that. As for the yarn, possibly at some point.

@Alneyan: No, I have been trying to make clean break from this game for a long time, I'm pretty sure I would regret sticking around.