A beginning

[Morzan]

 A dark wind hit the lone figure as he sat upon the hillside, staring at the battle field. This was the start. He had gathered his generals silently, without anyone noticing. He had planned, oh and he had waited. Waited until everything was right. None of his generals had known the others were helping, nor he had truelly was. Until this moment. He remembered though. He remembered of the true meaning of this world. He had once had a name, hated and loved by some. He had not been the smartest, nor the greatest. But he had been there through the history and might of this world. Now the fox sat trying to change it all. He had been destroyed, all those months ago. And he had faded. His armies and name torn apart. He had been glorious though, fought with the best, fought against the best. He had accomplished things of might. Of power! But that name was tarnished, and he had shed it. He had a new name. And he hoped to bring fear with that name. He had allies! He had what he hoped to be power! And he was no longer the foolish, hot head he had once been.

Now he looked upon the battlefield, his banner being raised. It had been painless and quick, as had everything he had planned. The plan had worked perfectly. Within but a second, all of his generals had joined and attacked. He did not know if the others at won yet, or if they would win. But he had just started the name for them. The Forsworn. He had watched now, as this world of vermain died out. Only a true thirty or so generals even remained. Most had left, and many would not return. He hoped they would, that was what he truelly wished to accomplish. But first domination was in order. And he would try his hardest to do that. He was Morzan, first of the Forsworn. And his planning had hopefully worked. Maybe soon the Forsworn would sit at top. He knew not. His generals were all loyal, and only a few knew of his old name, the name that he once used. But they were loyal, and he believed them all trust worthy.

HE had planned for weeks, gathering his forces. HE had found his generals throughout Southsward, Mossflower, and the Northlands. And he would make the warlords of this age fight for their lives. This age had been too soft, these warlords had lived peacefully enough. There had not been a true war since the days of what...Rome? Loren? Sure, Wolf Bite lived in this age, but he sat peacefully. He and the mighty Forsworn would put fear into their enemies. The Forsworn. He had given each of them a mighty Lizard steed, the biggest, fearciest creatures from far North. They were the steeds of the Forsworn, the mighty dragons.

Yes, long pass were the days of glory. The Houses lay empty. Well...maybe when the forsworn sat ontop, he would send one of his generals to the North, to rule as the King of the Northlands. None at sat at that house since the days of Kilk. And maybe a King or Queen of Mossflower, who knows how long that house had lain empty. Ah, and the seas. Maybe one of his generals enjoyed skiffs, and would build an armada that the old Queen of the Seas, Ashyra, would have gapped at. Yes, the vermain of this world would bow before the King and the mighty Forsworn. The King, may he show his presence soon.

"Captain!" he barked to the nearest soldier. "Send forth a message to the people of the Countries. Make it read this.

Dear Warlords,

This world is changing. The Forsworn have shown themselves, a King shall arise. You have seen our might today. We will allow you to stay upon your lands. When the King deems it, a tax shall be put forth from those it is asked. We will rise stronger then what we are today, and maybe the King will show himself to your unworthy faces. Maybe. We will rule and rise, and if a resistance is put forth, we will destroy it. We will allow you to join our ranks, or ally to us. We will also allow clans to have peace treaties. Some of our Generals will even allow protectorates. But if you try to fight, we promise a full fledge war, which we are well prepared for. Tributes may be paid, and we will look at those who have been helpfull and gracious later on, when rewards could and shall be given. Those who help the rise of the forsworn shall be kept in mind. But those who fight, shall also be in mind. They shall be a sign for those to come of what happens to our enemies! We are the Forsworn, the Dragon Riders!

~The First of the Forsworn, Morzan the Magnificent~

Have it sent as soon as possible, pinned to doors or skulls, I care not! But have the message out! This is a direct order from Morzan! Oh, and get me a scribe, I want everything written down from the beginning of our conquest," Morzan smiled.

Yes this would be a summer to remember. He would hold his iron grip. "Ah" he thought though, he was no ruler. He was the leader of the Forsworn, but they were some what of a democracy. Not as powerful as a democracy as Rome had been, he would not allow his Forsworn to tratior or acuse each other. Well...maybe acuse each other...but anything to strong or powerful said or done and he would take care of it. Until the true King returned, he would lead the Forsworn. He was a Steward. And he would rule the clan until the King returned.

He watched as his army cheered in victory. Yes...this would be a most memoriable summer.


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This is a plot to what just happened in normal.will continue throughout normal through the night. It is a plot to the dieing game of normal. Only in roleplaying and about this all should be written, I shall ask an admin or mod to delete anything that is not about this plot or in this plot. Thank you.  

[windhound]

 A fox sat on a hill.  He sat and watched.  And he pondered.  A slight breeze rippled through his curiously bright orange and red fur.  
He hummed quietly to himself as he watched a new clan join together, some small hordes, some large..
The breeze ruffled his fur again and a notice fluttered past.  Pinning it to the ground with his paw, he looked at the notice of Morzan.
He continued humming to himself as he padded softly back to his armada.
It seemed things were planned
whether they proved beneficial or negative for he and his skiffs was uncertain, but it seems things were planned

^_^
spiffy, though, methinks this would go better in the rp section

[Morzan]

 (I know but I wanted people to see that we just attacked in normal and such, it is all based on normal, sort of like Kilk and Ereptors plot during the dark ages, eh?)

"M'Lord! Diplomats be saying that Wolf Bite has sent forth a peace treaty till we deem it unneccissary!" a rat squeked in Morzan's ears.

"Then tell him aye! I will form an alliance with that giant peaceful dog! Now I hear Juska has taken the spot of Emperor. Good, I knew one of our higher lads could do it. And you say 3 others havn't even joined yet, they havn't got message to attack? Good, make sure they attack. Move out the army!" Morzan walked away, smilling at a dead ferret.

[Juby (Tercios)]

 Tercios Of Old stood silent in the aftermath, deep in thought.  He too had shed his skin of suffering, and emerged anew...
He had gone from mindless battle to mindless battle in seek of anything worth wild and then it came...
He Heeded the call, albeit he was a little late due to his scuffling ways and had taken a poor path, but he heeded the call...

[Juska]

 Juska had watched and waited for many days, waited..waited untill that moment when he would arise for Morzan and The Forsworn. His army was small and his land also, but he was rich with food and gold. He set his sights upon the landfat Empire of Neobaron, afer buying large amount of skiffs for the offensive Juska through his might against the Sea Wall, but they were too strong. He sent his leaders behide those walls and weakened the gate holding out his skiffs, they stormed up the beach and took the shores of the empire. Now he waited again for his leaders to return, some his own some captured in war, and for his camps to be set up. Now that all was well he let lose his reserved and bought up the cruel mercinaries of Southsward, the Creatures then shouted "Long live Emperor Juska, ruler of Southsward, The Sworn Wall!"

[Neobaron]

 Neobaron, a newcomer to Southsward trudged from the beach in the shame of defeat. His navy had failed, and his leaders were too few to combat the enemy. He had been hit in his weakest point. Sensing the threat of a lust for his blood, he sent out messengers to the bright spots of his empire, telling them to turn to defense, and to beware of turncoats and the treachorous tongue of the mighty Juska and his allies. He trudged quite some time before he mounted a rock and looked back opun his tattered and blood-stained army. In the distance, feint smoke was rising from the place of battle.

"Faithful servants of the BlackAdders!" he cried with a shaky voice. He paused, glancing about at the faces of those who remained loyal. Every glance from his eye was like a blow to the heart, for the embarresment of defeat had unleashed a ferocity that was apparent to those who were faithful to him and each shuddered with a fear greater than they had ever shown to their enemies.

"Today, is our darkest day. Our strongest members have been defeated, or scared into submission, and our allies cannot aid us. We have been pushed from the shores that we conquered, and our nemesis has become dominant over the land that many of our friends fought and died for." He tried to continue, but the events of the last few days had gotten to him. His army had been decimated, all of his money had been taken, his food poisoned, and his empire had become one-fouth the size of its former self.

He ordered the majority of his army to continue deeper into the safety of friendly territory, but he and a small number of his best forces remained at the rock for some time. Messages were sent to the members of the clan who had stayed with Neobaron through the slaughter that contained orders to remove the banner of the BA from their tower walls, and to wait for the next move of the young General who had been demolished by Juska. An amendment was sent ordering continuing offenses against the traitors who had left the BA at the first sign of trouble. They were the ones Neobaron was most angry with, and they were the ones who would first pay for his suffering.

He wasnt sure what to do at that point, but he had heard stories of times past. Viscious, angry times. A name came to him. A name that stuck out more than the others. One that had never been smeared by defeat or tarnished by its enemies. He had a plan. A plan to defeat the Forsworn, but it would require every bit of energy and cunning he had left to complete succesfully.

Emmisaries were sent to the glorious warlords of time past, in disbelief of the message they had been told to deliever. If the great warlords whose names echo throughout history would respond, then maybe Neobaron would have a chance. He knew he had established himself, but his planning was bad and he had let his forces become weak, contented by the peacefullness of his neighbors, but establishment wasnt enough. He had the desire to fight with the best and defeat the strongest clan he had ever seen created in the short time he had been fighting.

Neobaron gave a nod to those around him and he trudged off after his army, glancing occasionally back to the place of battle, where a feint smoke was rising.

He knew it was only the beggining, and that gave him reassurance.

[wolf bite]

 *Finds topic moved to role play*
I feel that this topic is directly about what is going on in the game in a fantasized way.  I don?t see a difference between ?Me and my buddies are attacking you in rag? and ?My orcs are stomp?in you in Mossflower.?  
*Moves topic back to general discussion.*

Also, There is no rule that the person that starts a post can dictate how people must post in their topic. I will NOT delete non role-playing responses to the threat of this new clan that is role-playing.


Wolf Bite
(Admin Duties)

[Morzan]

 Morzan turned to look at his new fortress. Not bad...not bad at all. The attacks went flawless, and only his massive army had been hit, which is what he wanted, his leaders were now better.

"General! Send a messsage to those other warlords, tell them a feast shall be held here, and they are allowed to come without being harmed. As if I wished them dead, they have better uses alive. I am not cold hearted. Ha! May they see I am but a kind fox who wishes to rule. And rule for the King!" at this he nodded his goblet of wine at a banner of a crown with an axe and sword across it. "May you show your presence soon M'Lord! Also General, get me my full black helm, I wish none who once knew me to recoginize me, my old self is dead!"

He moved off, hidding and concealing short knives under his long baquet table. He wanted peace, not an over extended war with these fools, but if they came here as hot heads, they would leave with no heads at all.  

[Orcrist]

 Orcrist studied the battles from a distance, searching for the flags of Forsworn to pop up around the countryside. Alas, the wait was a damp squib: only the army of Juska represented the clan of Morzan in the land of the top 10. Also, Neobaron of Loren was gracing an even higher rank than Juska. He mused that maybe there were extenuating circumstances that kept the plan from being taken out. He also noticed that wolf bite was in first... again. Figures, he thought: in first and didn't even have to attack anyone to get there.
Orcrist took one last look through his field glasses and then turned back, walking purposfully inside: it was time for afternoon tea. It would help him get through his evening nap before supper.

[RazorClaw]

 RazorClaw sat back sleepily in his La-Z-Boy, reclining and basking in the sun, which was setting in a fiery red kaleidoscope of color over Mossflower.
  A new recruit popped into his room. "Sir!"
  "Eh? Wazzat? Attack the blaggarts!"
  "Um, sir?"
   RazorClaw sat up, fully awake. "Yes?"
  "Yes, er, just to let you know, there is a plot-thingy going on, you might want to get involved, as you haven't been in a plot since ROME..."
   "Have too!"
   "Have not!"
   "Have-- ahem. Anyway, perhaps I shall get involved. Have my messengers give a special /gift/ to windy-- a gift that may spell his doom!"
   "What kind of a /gift/, sir?"
   "A message, you dolt, what do you think messengers are for? Yes, send him a message. Useful things, messages. Not as comfy as massages, but they're more useful when you want to say something to a person. Yes, quite nifty, messages."
  So, as this was happening, a bottle of ale hit the ailing-from-slight-madness RazorClaw konk on the noggin, which, though the ale would make RazorClaw ail like hail smashing a pail, /if/ he drank it, but as it was it brought him into his prime form of tactics. Not that he ever, really, used, tactics.
   "Alright. You're promoted to lieutenant for getting me back into form. Always eat well, though. Remember, you are what you eat!" RazorClaw said, while munching some candied chestnuts. "Now! About the message. Send a noble and dignified message to windy, asking for membership in Loren. After all, I was assistant leader in the bloody thing at one time! We'll immediately take the stereotypical goodguy side and, at great risk of sounding cliched, Forsworn will never get away with it!"
   Quite pleased at his promotion, the lieutenant said, "Yessir! Sending the message, sir!"
   The recruit went out of the rom at a brisk walk, telling the messengers to send a message of diplomacy to windy. Yes, things were churning in the big thingy filled with butter that you churn, oh yes, things were churning.

[~>John<~]

 He looked down. "They should be here soon." The ships he had sent. The ships He had sent to find out what was happening in the world he had lived in for so long. For he had left, sailed across the ocean, and landed. He had been absent for so long....Rome, even. He remembered the treachery which had led to the downfall...Luckily he had been absent long enough he was not attacked by the traitor....His friend still. Yet he longed for the heat of battle. Though he was graying he was a s proud as ever. They were here. He spoke, quickly, quietly. And then. "Tercios?" "Yes Sir" "Prepare to leave with the army. We shall fght against these until they are gone from the top 10."

He smiled. Tercios would find a surprise, indeed.

[Juby (Tercios)]

 *scratches head*  :huh:  

[Juska]

 He has an imaginary gerbal named Tercios who leads his armies.

[Holby]

 rofl, Razorclaw.

[windhound]

 The curiously bright furred fox was prowling the deck of one of his ships.  Infact, if he wanted to he could walk for miles and miles across the decks of his armada, but that took too much effort, as there was always the issue of having to walk back.  Pacing in circles let him walk as long as he wished without fear of the return journey.

Halfway through a cycle he spotted a rather perplexed vermin standing on the shore.  Fetching his telescope, he stared at the creature.  It appeared to be quite fuzzy, which seemed odd for a vermin.  Only cute, discusting woodlanders were fuzzy..  He focused the lense.
"ah" he exclaimed, "much better"

Suddenly the critter on the shore drew out a bow, rolled a scrap of parchment around an arrow, and let it fly.  The fox followed its clumsy progress though the air, and it landed with a clatter on the deck.  There was a flurry of orange and red as the fox pounced on the arrow before it had a chance to escape over the edge of the ship.
"ah" he said again.  "Razorclaw would like ta join Loren"
He pondered, Razorclaw was welcome as far as he was concerned, but he would rather ask..   He pulled out a piece of parchment, drew a large "?" and signed it.  Rolling it together with Razorclaw's message, he sealed them with a thin coat of wax.  This done, he placed a paw in the water and splashed four times, sat back and waited.  Soon a dark fin pierced the water, and a large thresher shark surfaced.  The fox threw the wax sealed parchment into the water and the enormous fish caught it in it's mouth.
"To the Old One!!" the fox shouted, and the shark twitched its long tail in agreement and swam off