It was peaceful on the island of Etouos, the sea was calm and the sky was sunny. The General of the OWLs was pacing around his private office in Ossyria's Town Hall. He had been itching for ALL OUT WAR FARE for ages! "I know! I'm going to send a letter to Ryba if he wants to attack us!"
( I badly wanted to attack someone or be attacked. I wanted to see how my army would fare against a large force)
Ryba replied peacefully saying he would attack in 24 hours 'cause he wanted to pick on some helpless noob.
The General was EXTREMELY happy about this.
(Yup)
"CUT FUNDING FOR A 3RD COLONY! PREPARE THE TROOPS! BUY MORE UPGRADES! BUILD MORE SHIPS! WE'RE GOING TO KICK RYBA'S AS- I mean...ummm....NECK!"
( I went into crazy Military Operation mode during this time)
The town of Ossyria was preparing for an all out fight to the death. Upkeep rose by hundreds. Hundreds of people were being recruited and becoming dogs of the military (not really).
"ALRIGHT MEN! PREPARE FOR BATTLE! RYBA SHOULD START SENDING HIS TROOPS IN ABOUT 6 HOURS! GUARD THE WALLS!"
(coughcoughIdidn'tdothiscoughcough)
*the general starts ranting about how Ryba could attack at any time and some other inspiring crap*
(Nope)
12 hours later.....
"Ummm General sir? They're still not here...."
"WHAT!? ARE YOU CHICKENING OUT ON ME?"
"No...it's just that we've been standing in this same spot for about 12 hours..."
(I was waiting all day at school to come home and see how Ryba attacked me)
*diplomat dude runs to them*
"SIR! WE HAVE JUST RECEIVED A LETTER FROM RYBA! HE SAYS HE DOESN'T HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO ATTACK US! HE IS SORRY!"
(Maybe he really did run out of money, maybe he's scared, or maybe, he has no men. I don't know.)
*OM*G!!!111oneone!1!!1eleven!1!! WTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*
(Yes this really happened)
(Hope you enjoyed this
~Presented to you by TERYAKI DOCUMENT/FILM/STORY PRODUCTIONS!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Bushido
The April sun beats down on Ightayos. O'er the grassy hills, a swath of red.
"By the scrote of Hephaestus!" cries the watchman, "Alert the Governor! Manly Beach is under attack!"
A footman rushes to the Governor's mansion with the ill news. The watchman returns to his post and assesses the oncoming army. From what he can see they are all swordsmen, wearing scarlet cloaks, approximately two-hundred-and-fifty strong. On their breastplates is the seal for Cabti, a thusfar dormant city from across the island ruled by King Elvang.
"Hera's beard!" exclaims the Governor. Manly Beach was primarily a marble-mining colony, with only a handful of soldiers (re: seven) employed to test out new weapons-technology. These brave souls rush to Manly's walls without hesitation despite their doom, while Manly's governor does her best to keep her people (and her loot) safe. She sends a spy to Cabti.
The Manly civilians bar themselves underground or hole up in the mines. By Governor's orders, the Warehouse is emptied of all goods save for what can be stored in its secure vaults. As the sword-horde scales Manly's walls, an armada of trade-ships leaves the colony's port. They head for the capital city of Rybastillapussy, hulls brimming with emergency cargo, crewmen bearing a message for King Anthony.
"Holy humpin' Hydras!" screams King Anthony. He never heard of such an army, nor can he guess how a traditionally diverse force as his own would fare against it. He sends all of Rybastillapussy's troops to Manly, issues a naval blockade for Cabti (whose fleet is sparse, according to the Spy), accelerates the draft, and orders Manly to focus on military production.
The capital's army arrive at Manly. Of the native garrison, a lone Archer survived the swordsmen's pillaging. Soldier to soldier, the Archer reports to the Rybastillapussian General.
“They fight unlike any warrior I’ve seen,” says the Archer. Along with their extreme physical ability, the Cabti Swordsmen engage in psychological battle. They cleave Phalanx shields in twain, taunt archers to empty their quills, blocking every arrow with a deft slice before charging in for the kill. “They did also this thing where about ten of them sit on each others’ shoulders and hold their swords out. And then they spin around like this spinning-hurricane-thing with swords. It’s how they breached the city wall, I swear to Hades.”
Incredulous, the General prepares his men to march in a few hours, once the Manly Governor finishes mustering a squad from her own population. Anthony also strikes up correspondence with Lord Derek of the OWL (by messenger-owl, of course):
me: yo that colony that attacked me this morning
1:07 AM Derek: yeah
me: is a f*ckin samurai dojo or something
it has 250 swordsmen
nothing else
Derek: nice
let's kick his a**
me: you wanna?
Derek: yeah
me: it's on my marble island
then let's ask it to join OWL:)
Derek: haha
that's hella bushido
Derek and Anthony launch their attacks of ~70 units each. Cabti’s wall serves as mockery: it rises only to chest-height so that defending soldiers may leap over in a crimson deluge. The OWL assault fails to breach but reduces Cabti’s army to 156 swordsmen.
Derek’s General: “A lone Phalanx among them – perhaps that is their Leader.”
Anthony’s General: “Zeus strike me now. It is as if their swords doth protrude with more swords! How am I to fight this?”
Days pass. The Spy reports that Elvang has bolstered his 156 swordsmen with 44 phalanx. Messenger owls race between Anthony’s cities. His citizens mourn loved ones lost to Cabti blades, and work as a unit to bolster Manly Beach against further attack. Manly’s shores are awash with resources and newly conscripted soldiers from across the empire. Soon there will be enough for a second offensive.
But before any more fighting, Anthony sends King Elvang a special messenger-owl. This one being a rather large creature with mottled feathers and a stare that could pierce the earth to spot a mouse a hemisphere away – a very Serious Owl with a very Serious Message. Basically, Anthony’s letter is a sincere invitation for Elvang to join the Alliance (complete with bribe!). Knowing that Cabti may be too proud to accept, Anthony includes in the post-script: “Are you working alone? Or did someone hire you?”
The Serious Owl returns unharmed to Manly Beach with a reply, written in sword-cuts on Anthony’s original letter: “HIRED~”
Anthony’s Manly army at this point is 171-strong, upgraded, and ready to fight. And fight they do! This time, they wedge through Cabti’s ranks with ease. The red swordsmen, with all their skill and strength, do not appear as big a threat as before. After a few rounds of battle, Cabti streets are tread by Manly feet.
Anthony’s General: “We defeated their army and entered the city, but the fighting continued. Cabtians of every niche and generation are with blade – even their children.”
More of Anthony’s soldiers die as they seize a modest plunder whilst leaving the civilians unharmed.
For now the fighting has stopped, and King Anthony has time to reflect. Who was Elvang’s employer? Or was the Sword King bluffing? Will there be another Cabtian strike? The Spy reports that the Cabti army has no new conscripts. Anthony notes that Elvang replaced his lost swordsmen with phalanx. Perhaps after seeing the OWLs’ embracement of technology, Elvang conceded to outfit his own troops with modern equipment, excluding that weapon he loves so much. Maybe the OWLs pushed the Cabtians into an era they do not wish to be part of.
FOR THE GLORY OF THE OWL! '(o)v(o)'
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Brotherhood
Stonewall Union, having been gently rebuffed by our fair and wise Mayor of Santa Cruz, Samuel, turned toward me as the current Leader of the Owls, seeking a mutual alliance between our two nations. Their Leader, King Steven, approached me directly, and I could tell by his words that he was an honorable man - a true gentleman. And the Stonewallers were known across Iota for being brave warriors and noble people.
That evening, I met with all the rulers of Owl Country at the grand meeting room in Tiger Sauce. The weird moon cast an eldritch light over us as we discussed King Steven's proposition.
Highwinder, of Fourside, was the first to speak. He stood and roused our passions with a moving speech about brotherhood in times of war. "My fellow Owls," he declared, "this is a meeting which could only have been ordained by the Fates themselves!"
Here, here! The others quickly agreed, and we raised our cups in unanimous decision and then feasted merrily upon wild boar and sumptuous Cukios fruit. The next day I set sail for Everlast to conclude the pact with the Stonewallers, bringing a few hundred caskets of Owl Country wine with me as a gift for King Steven.
And lo, did two powerful Empires join together to fight for a better world.
FOR THE GLORY OF THE OWL! '(o)v(o)'
That evening, I met with all the rulers of Owl Country at the grand meeting room in Tiger Sauce. The weird moon cast an eldritch light over us as we discussed King Steven's proposition.
Highwinder, of Fourside, was the first to speak. He stood and roused our passions with a moving speech about brotherhood in times of war. "My fellow Owls," he declared, "this is a meeting which could only have been ordained by the Fates themselves!"
Here, here! The others quickly agreed, and we raised our cups in unanimous decision and then feasted merrily upon wild boar and sumptuous Cukios fruit. The next day I set sail for Everlast to conclude the pact with the Stonewallers, bringing a few hundred caskets of Owl Country wine with me as a gift for King Steven.
And lo, did two powerful Empires join together to fight for a better world.
FOR THE GLORY OF THE OWL! '(o)v(o)'
Sunday, April 6, 2008
One new member, a powerful new friend.
A parrot crys out as a warm breeze blows across the peaceful and still isle of Yorios[88:47], it stares at the horizon, with no inkling of the changes to come that will define this island forever.
The first settlers on this island have just finished being weened off of imperial wolf milk and are ready to start from scratch at building a lasting civilization. They show up, almost by clockwork, and soon three small towns have sprung up along the sunny Yorios coast. Humanity begins to flood the island. From these early settlements, one city quickly begins to surpass the rest in beauty, size, and magnitude. It is called Santa Cruz, and it would one day be the center of an empire that changes history.
Just as the second generation of native Santa Cruzers is being born, the parrot spots a white sail on the horizon. Things are about to change.
Taken from the journals of the Mayor of Santa Cruz:
The first settlers on this island have just finished being weened off of imperial wolf milk and are ready to start from scratch at building a lasting civilization. They show up, almost by clockwork, and soon three small towns have sprung up along the sunny Yorios coast. Humanity begins to flood the island. From these early settlements, one city quickly begins to surpass the rest in beauty, size, and magnitude. It is called Santa Cruz, and it would one day be the center of an empire that changes history.
Just as the second generation of native Santa Cruzers is being born, the parrot spots a white sail on the horizon. Things are about to change.
Taken from the journals of the Mayor of Santa Cruz:
I awoke this morning to the sound of a urgent pounding on my bedroom door. I rose slowly, dreading the news, and let the messenger into my room.
"..sir" he began, gasping for breath. "They're here..."
"Who's here?" I asked.
"A great flotilla has been spotted on the horizon! They're coming to invade! We'll all be destroyed!"
"An unannounced attack on a few small settlements? I am skeptical, show me this invading fleet!"
I gathered a small entourage and we climbed to the top of the quarry to see what fate awaited Yorios. As we reached the top, an incredible sight awaited us, the entire western coast of the island was clogged with ships. Hundreds of men were unloading goods and supplies, and masses of humanity snaked up the beaches to what were clearly a series of building sites.
A chuckle escaped my lips, "We are in no danger, these are no warships, we're about to have new neighbors." As we climbed back down from the quarry peak, I began to regret my words, for at the base waited a heavily armed diplomatic party bearing a banner that read SwU.
"Welcome to Yorios," I proclaimed, "I hope we will enjoy a long and prosperous friendship."
Ignoring what I said, the man at the head of the party began to speak: "We are the Stonewall Union. We are taking total ownership of this island so we can maximize its resources. If you wish to stay, you must contribute heavily to the development of the Yorios Sawmill and Quarry. If you help us, you well benefit greatly, If you do not, you will be driven off of the island."
Understanding the severity of the situation , I quickly put on my humble hat and bowed low.
"We welcome you to the great isle of Yorios, we are the people of Santa Cruz, and we would be honored to aide you in your quest for production."
Without any further pleasantries the Stonewall envoy turned and marched back towards their city.
With their new priorities understood the people of Santa Cruz mobilized to gather as much wood as they possibly could. For years , every boy born to Santa Cruz was sent to the sawmill as soon as he was old enough, to work until he dropped, for the good of his nation.
As time went by Santa Cruz bloomed into the jewel of Yorios, a prize coveted by all who saw it. The Stonewall Union, who quickly grew to encompass the rest of the island began to exert pressure on Santa Cruz to join their ranks. Knowing the consequences of becoming a cog in a monolithic Alliance, the leaders of Santa Cruz knew that they had to find away to retain their independence, without fowling their relations with the the SwU.
They soon realized there was only one option: join Owl Country, an alliance founded on the principles of independence, free spirit, and all sorts of other nifty qualities. Soon the cream of Santa Cruz's diplomatic crop was hard at work breaking the news gently to the Stonewall Union and establishing strong ties with Owl Country.
I hope that the actions of Santa Cruz will benefit all Owls!
FOR THE GLORY OF OWL COUNTRY! '(o)v(o)'
"..sir" he began, gasping for breath. "They're here..."
"Who's here?" I asked.
"A great flotilla has been spotted on the horizon! They're coming to invade! We'll all be destroyed!"
"An unannounced attack on a few small settlements? I am skeptical, show me this invading fleet!"
I gathered a small entourage and we climbed to the top of the quarry to see what fate awaited Yorios. As we reached the top, an incredible sight awaited us, the entire western coast of the island was clogged with ships. Hundreds of men were unloading goods and supplies, and masses of humanity snaked up the beaches to what were clearly a series of building sites.
A chuckle escaped my lips, "We are in no danger, these are no warships, we're about to have new neighbors." As we climbed back down from the quarry peak, I began to regret my words, for at the base waited a heavily armed diplomatic party bearing a banner that read SwU.
"Welcome to Yorios," I proclaimed, "I hope we will enjoy a long and prosperous friendship."
Ignoring what I said, the man at the head of the party began to speak: "We are the Stonewall Union. We are taking total ownership of this island so we can maximize its resources. If you wish to stay, you must contribute heavily to the development of the Yorios Sawmill and Quarry. If you help us, you well benefit greatly, If you do not, you will be driven off of the island."
Understanding the severity of the situation , I quickly put on my humble hat and bowed low.
"We welcome you to the great isle of Yorios, we are the people of Santa Cruz, and we would be honored to aide you in your quest for production."
Without any further pleasantries the Stonewall envoy turned and marched back towards their city.
With their new priorities understood the people of Santa Cruz mobilized to gather as much wood as they possibly could. For years , every boy born to Santa Cruz was sent to the sawmill as soon as he was old enough, to work until he dropped, for the good of his nation.
As time went by Santa Cruz bloomed into the jewel of Yorios, a prize coveted by all who saw it. The Stonewall Union, who quickly grew to encompass the rest of the island began to exert pressure on Santa Cruz to join their ranks. Knowing the consequences of becoming a cog in a monolithic Alliance, the leaders of Santa Cruz knew that they had to find away to retain their independence, without fowling their relations with the the SwU.
They soon realized there was only one option: join Owl Country, an alliance founded on the principles of independence, free spirit, and all sorts of other nifty qualities. Soon the cream of Santa Cruz's diplomatic crop was hard at work breaking the news gently to the Stonewall Union and establishing strong ties with Owl Country.
I hope that the actions of Santa Cruz will benefit all Owls!
FOR THE GLORY OF OWL COUNTRY! '(o)v(o)'
The Hordes Are Upon Us, But We Will Not Relent
Ryba (Capital - Westwind [67:32]), Warlord of the Eternal Flames, continues his arrogant and cowardly attacks against us, even though our Exalted High Diplomat and Envoy to the People, Ambassador Anthony, trounced him convincingly in an epic naval duel earlier this week. I'm sure you've heard the bards singing the praises of our lusty Commissar in the taverns recently.
This fair and righteous duel was meant to end the escalating conflict between our two Empires, but it's obvious that Ryba is nothing more than a barbarian, and understands little of the ways of gentlemanly combat. The Flames, having been struck a terrible blow to their pride as a result of Ryba's embarrassing losses, seek revenge on Ambassador Anthony, and even had the gall to mount a number of half-hearted attacks against his hometown of Fancy Land. The Ambassador, in a weakened state following his heroic efforts at the duel, let a few of these cutthroats escape the island with gold in their pockets... but not before personally skewering a few dozen of them on the end of his sword, so I hear!
Well, my friends, we Owls vigorously accept this challenge against one of our own. Last night a contingent of my heavily-armed Flamethrowers sailed boldly into the port of Recluce [66:33], hoisting the banner of Bisonopolis, where they met little resistance from the rotten planks which are called a navy by "Ryba the Cowardly." A small group of hearty and fresh young warriors hit the shores soon after, eager for a fight. The barbarians, lazy and drunk, were caught completely off guard by our fearsome blitz, and fell quickly to our spears and arrows. (And their women, I daresay, fell quickly to our charm and sweet Owl Country wine!) That night the taverns of Bisonopolis were filled with singing and laughter late into the night - even Ambassador Anthony joined us for some merrymaking, though he was recovering from some rather ghastly battle wounds.
Of course, I envisioned that such an attack, as righteous as it was, would incur the wrath of Ryba, being as he is a feeble-minded warlord. I'm sure he can suffer no further embarrassment before his people (though he is destined to). As I am writing this, black sails and patchwork banners from no less than THREE Countries of the Eternal Flames are heading in great numbers to Bisonopolis to wage war against us. Cowards! Their ranks swell well into the thousands, most likely bolstered by slaves and pig farmers.
Comrades, this is likely not a battle we will win, but surely we will fight with the honor and strength of an Owl, our monocles shining in the sun, and tales of our valiance will be spread even amongst the Hordes!
FOR THE GLORY OF OWL COUNTRY! '(o)v(o)'
This fair and righteous duel was meant to end the escalating conflict between our two Empires, but it's obvious that Ryba is nothing more than a barbarian, and understands little of the ways of gentlemanly combat. The Flames, having been struck a terrible blow to their pride as a result of Ryba's embarrassing losses, seek revenge on Ambassador Anthony, and even had the gall to mount a number of half-hearted attacks against his hometown of Fancy Land. The Ambassador, in a weakened state following his heroic efforts at the duel, let a few of these cutthroats escape the island with gold in their pockets... but not before personally skewering a few dozen of them on the end of his sword, so I hear!
Well, my friends, we Owls vigorously accept this challenge against one of our own. Last night a contingent of my heavily-armed Flamethrowers sailed boldly into the port of Recluce [66:33], hoisting the banner of Bisonopolis, where they met little resistance from the rotten planks which are called a navy by "Ryba the Cowardly." A small group of hearty and fresh young warriors hit the shores soon after, eager for a fight. The barbarians, lazy and drunk, were caught completely off guard by our fearsome blitz, and fell quickly to our spears and arrows. (And their women, I daresay, fell quickly to our charm and sweet Owl Country wine!) That night the taverns of Bisonopolis were filled with singing and laughter late into the night - even Ambassador Anthony joined us for some merrymaking, though he was recovering from some rather ghastly battle wounds.
Of course, I envisioned that such an attack, as righteous as it was, would incur the wrath of Ryba, being as he is a feeble-minded warlord. I'm sure he can suffer no further embarrassment before his people (though he is destined to). As I am writing this, black sails and patchwork banners from no less than THREE Countries of the Eternal Flames are heading in great numbers to Bisonopolis to wage war against us. Cowards! Their ranks swell well into the thousands, most likely bolstered by slaves and pig farmers.
Comrades, this is likely not a battle we will win, but surely we will fight with the honor and strength of an Owl, our monocles shining in the sun, and tales of our valiance will be spread even amongst the Hordes!
FOR THE GLORY OF OWL COUNTRY! '(o)v(o)'
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