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United Nations of Gol Lore Blog Part 1

  • LMPGames
  • 12/22/2023 02:30 AM
  • 328 views
Some content warnings here, this section of the lore is much darker than others. Expect to find the following themes: Slavery, physical and mental torture/manipulation, implications of assault, attempted suicide, ethno-nationalism, and some somewhat minor descriptions of gore as we delve into the history of Galardia and, to a lesser extent, Minsor.

The United Nations of Gol

Founding Date: 39 AG
Government System: Independent Republic
States:
  • Gol
  • Listichen (/lis-tə-CHən/)
  • Fallow
  • Hranscht (/härän-SH-te/)
  • Nielt
  • Weistoln (/wize-tôl-ən/)
  • Poklir (/pôh-k-leer/)
  • Quasat (/qwä-sät/)
  • Dahamt(/dä-häm-t/)


Capital/Seat of Power: Schwarzwald, Gol
Current Leader: Elias Tuberra

Synopsis
The United Nations of Gol is the largest and one of the oldest modern nations in Elisnar. It boasts the largest landmass, the largest military, and the largest economy in the world. Positioned in the Northwestern hemisphere, the UNG covers the entirety of the continent Tilrin. The UNG is an independent republic, not quite a constitutional republic but also not a hegemony; something in between these two governmental models.

Each of the member nations has full autonomy to run their internal affairs, but they must adhere to a federal law system which is determined by a senate. While in the past travel between the many nations of Gol required passports and entry approvals, these days citizens are able to freely move through all of the UNG. The senate is comprised of six senators voted on by each member state, meaning that there are at any time a maximum of 54 senators.

There are no term limits, so senators are free to serve as long as they wish or are able to and a term lasts 10 years. All legislation requires a 3/4ths majority vote to pass, and this threshold is dependent on the number of senators participating within that vote. If a senator is not available to vote or votes to abstain, the threshold will shift downward, but will always be rounded up to the nearest whole number. If only 55 senators vote on an issue, the pass threshold would be 42 yeas. In order for any vote to be considered, at least 35 senators with at least three from each state present. If these conditions are not met, a quorum cannot be called; a fancy term for a group that can discuss and vote on legislation.

The UNG is run by a president who is elected by the citizenry every five years. The president act as the figurehead of the government and presides as the president of the senate where they conduct day-to-day operations. The president has several powers at their disposal. The first is the ability to declare national emergencies and enact prescriptive actions around those emergencies. These proclamations apply to every member nation.

The second is that the president has strict control over what legislation makes it to a vote on the senate floor and can’t be forced to bring things to the floor for a vote. The process of blocking a vote on legislation is colloquially known as “tabling”. Lastly, the president has the unilateral power to sign agreements with other nations, create and break alliances, treaties, and is able to declare war though finding for that war and related expenditures must be voted on and approved by the senate.

The foundation of the United Nations of Gol is rooted in a complex history of war and slavery. To properly examine how the UNG was formed, we need to start before the beginning and go back to an era when a country called Galardia rose from a tiny, unknown place to a powerful nation that spread terror throughout a continent.



1300 AD – 1322 AD
In 1300 AD the modern world was extremely young. Old-world technologies like the steam engine and industrial-scale manufacturing were just coming out of their infancy. Many of the modern nations had not yet been birthed and many of the old-world nations were experiencing their last dying gasps of breath.

Most of the activity of note in the world in this era was taking place in the western hemisphere. This is where the two strongest countries of that era could be found. They were Minsor and the superpower of that age, Dalinath. Minsor had been on the rise for many years, their location within the western oceans along with their economic drivers propelled them forward.

Minsor was situated in the middle of the western ocean on a continent called the Midden, named long ago by the ancient Dalinathians due to its location. It was not a formal nation, though all treated it as such. It was home to the center of the underworld, the town known as Kleinnacht. It was a place where anything was acceptable, the only laws that existed were in place to ensure that transactions agreed upon were upheld honorably. It was not the only such town in Minsor, but it was the largest and most powerful.

Anything you sought, be it drugs, illegal weapons, highly controlled substances, even slaves; everything could be bought for the right price in Kleinnacht and in many of the other cities of Minsor. While each city was independent, those that controlled the cities would meet and decide on various issues when the need arose. These men and women were essentially the kingpins of the underworld and wielded great power within the old-world due to their corrupting influence on business and governments world-wide. They were known as the Yelastol.

The Yelastol was comprised of fifteen individuals; nine of them were the leaders of the nine cities of Minsor. They were commonly known as the Schwartz, or Black, Council. The other six were selected by the Council to act as intermediaries between each of the cities and with international contacts within other nations in business, private, and governmental capacities.

Of these individuals there was one who showed unusual ambition; Voglair Noil. Compared to most of the other Yelastol, he was quite young at 39 years of age. He had a deeply held ambition that he developed while working for his Father, Kleit, in his youth and events that had transpired within his family. He later became acquainted with an influential man named Jannis Falar when he took on a job for him. It was extremely dangerous and Noil was expected to fail, but he survived the ordeal and the information he brought back was extremely valuable.

Falar used it to overthrow the Yelastol in control of Kleinnacht at that time, Terrace Bakthor. Bakthor was tried by the Faftherholm, a select committee of the Yelastol that handled sensitive matters within the group. Bakthor was found guilty of sedition and espionage and was sentenced to death via public execution. The Yelastol hung him in the Kleinnacht city center two days later and gave control of the city to Falar who was to take Bakthor’s place in the Yelastol.

Noil was brought onto Falar’s personal staff as an enforcer and took care of many matters of high importance to Falar. Two more years passed as Falar consolidated power within the Yelastol and Noil, along side him, rose to become Falar’s right hand man and successor to his position. Noil, though, had grown frustrated with his position and his lack of progress towards his ambition of dominating the underworld and changing it.

This frustration came to a head on the eve of the day of his Father’s death. He had gotten into a heated argument with Falar over his stubborn adherence to the status quo. Falar did not want the old ways changed, he did not believe in the unification of the cities as Noil did. In fact he was against it, he believed that the strength of Minsor arose from the independent nature of the cities and that consolidation under a single ruler would lead to the downfall of their power. They had argued for hours, years of building tension and opposing views spilling out unabated. While it had shaken Falar’s faith in Noil’s preparedness to take over for him when he was ready to retire, he was also aware of Noil’s past and respected how those events had shaped Noil’s beliefs.

For Noil, the fight had shattered his relationship with Falar completely. He felt betrayed and cast out, that he was now on his own again. He gathered up those who were loyal to him and there were many who owed great personal debts to Noil for the things he had done to help them over the years. He would not wait a minute longer, it had to be done now; he led his men into Falar’s office and slew the aging man before he had a chance to even stand up from his chair.

Noil was now in charge of Kleinnacht. While his rise to the Yelastol was rocky, there was precedent for ascension in this manner so the others could do nothing to prevent it. Still, Noil was viewed with suspicion for quite a while as he did what he knew to do best; work his way into the hearts and minds of his new people. For several years Noil ignored the Yelastol and his obligations to it, he had a plan but first he had to prove that he had what it took to be considered part of the Yelastol.

Over that time period, Noil expanded his influence, brought many lucrative contracts to Kleinnacht, and proved through his actions that he was not someone to be reckoned with. Once Noil felt that he had enough clout within the Yelastol he called for a meeting of the Council. It was the right of a member of the Yelastol to do so, the FaftherHolm would then approve, or reject, the request. It was approved.

Noil brought the Yelastol all into one place and in one move, took over the entire Council for himself. It was not a bloodless coup-de-tat, but it was a successful one. With Minsor now under his control, he unified the cities, formed a loose version of a central government, and went to work devising his strategy for achieving his ultimate goal; a world-wide underworld network that touched every continent and had a presence in every government and commerce center.

To accomplish this, he needed geldir; lots of it. He had a plan for this. During the mission that launched Falar to his station in the Yelastol, Noil had bought the services of a sailor named Henis Talford. His mission was to infiltrate Dalinath and bring back information about the state of the nation to Falar. During his time on the mission, they had discovered a small uncharted island between the Midden and Yakshin. When Noil and Talford investigated it they found signs that there may be a diamond mine somewhere on the island; they had found old mining equipment that had small diamonds stuck into the cervices.

He wanted this island for Minsor, the geldir a diamond mine could generate was enormous, enough for his plans twice over. There was one catch, Dalinath was aware of the island and the mine as apparently they used it from time to time when their nation was hurting economically. Noil had a theory that the reason Dalinath had remained a super power for so long was due to this mine and their ability to use it to generate money quickly. To the best of his knowledge, the country had never suffered any kind fo economic downturn in recorded history; a feat that should be impossible.

In order to claim the island, Minsor would need to first break Dalinath’s navy and that was a hard ask. Dalinath had the strongest navy at that time due to the strength of the construction of their ships which were made from Elder Yew, a cold climate tree that only grew on Yakshin. It was water repellent, lighter than most other ship woods, and when treated with specific compounds, known only to the Dalinathian’s and a select few within Minsor, they became able to withstand prolonged cannon-fire, though would eventually succumb.

The issue there was that Minsor naval technology was so poor that their weapons weren’t able to damage the hulls of the Dalinathian ships. The answer to the problem would come from a small nation to the north on Tilrin called Galardia. Several years ago, they had discovered a new chemical substance while mining for gold. It was a green rock that when ground into powder and exposed to high levels of heat, would explode. Noil heard of this substance from a trader from Galardia who offered to set up a meeting to open trade relations between the two countries.

Noil was adamant that he would have this substance, called Verandite, and that it could be used to deal the decisive blow to the Dalinathian’s that he needed. Noil met with the Premier of Galardia, a man named Volstig Hannistein. After discussions and a demonstration of the powder, a trade agreement was signed between Minsor and Galardia for 250 stone, or 700 pounds, of Verandite for 10% of the profits from the diamond mine for the first five years.

When they returned to Minsor, Noil set out to design a ship capable of withstanding Dalinathian attack, that would be as maneuverable or more than their enemy’s ships, and that would utilize the Verandite to destroy their targets. The first designs were constructed and tested with great success. Minsor built a fleet in record time and with it, shattered the Dalinathian navy over the course of three battles.

His success surprised Noil; he had suspected they would win, but he believed that it would have taken years. His victory brought the thought of an opportunity to his mind. Dalinath had, once in the distant past long before it rose up to become a region and then world super power, been a hunting ground for slaves for Minsor’s slave trade. He believed that their quick victory was a sign that Dalinath was not as ferocious militarily as it might appear. Perhaps their navy was their strongest military institution which they used to project an illusion of strength.

He laid out plans for a land invasion of Yakshin with the goal of capturing the continent for Minsor once more and reestablishing the old slave routes. Noil used Minsor’s power to raise a large army and with it, conquered Dalinath over the course of five years. It was not easy, the Dalinathians were ever as vicious warriors as their ancestors, the Shintok, had been, but he had also been right about their navy.

Dalinath had relied on their navy for decades to prevent invasion of their homeland. Over that time, their land defenses suffered and deteriorated. Their military fell out of training and spending on advancement of military technology had become almost non-existent as they believed they were invulnerable to an attack by land.

Noil exploited this delusion now that they had razed their navy to the depths of the sea and had secured victory where others may have seen nought but a fool’s errand. Along with the mine and the fresh influx of slaves, Minsor became extremely rich and Galardia shared in the success.

During this time, the two countries had been engaged in ever deepening ties as more trade agreements and eventually an alliance was signed. Cultural assimilation had also been on-going for several years. While this had less of an impact on Minsor at the time, though later would lead to drastic changes to the country, Galardia found itself influenced toward the institution of slavery.

Galardia had become disgustingly rich as a result of their agreements with Minsor and were well on their way to becoming the dominant country on Tilrin. During these intervening years, Hannistein had done what he could to resist the movement toward the extreamist views that were being imported from Minsor, including the institution of slavery.

While he did not believe in interfering with Minsor’s traditions and cultural ways, he did not want to see such an institution brought into existence in Galardia and he used all of his power as Premier to prevent it. His actions had soured his relationship with newer politicians within the Hoslkervact, the Galardian parliament. In 1310 AD, Hannistein died of natural causes. The country voted in Jorg Bjornheim as his replacement and his ascension brought great change to Galardia.

Bjornheim was a six foot eigth inch tall and somewhat muscular man with bright golden hair that fell to his calves. He was of medium build, though strong enough to wield his signature massive claymore, a five foot long and ten inch wide monstrosity. His chilling steel-gray eyes seemed to always been looking toward some unknown point on the horizon, as if searching for a future brought to fruition by his own hands.

He rose up from the military due to his actions in various conflicts around Tilrin. He was personally responsible for the defeat of the Nielt-Poklir alliance in a war between them and Galardia. For his efforts, he had been awarded the Heart of Valor, an award bestowed upon soldiers that went above and beyond the call of duty, three times during the course of the conflict. He was the youngest officer to be granted the award more than once, at the age of 24. He was a Galardian war hero.

He was almost a household name by the time he ran for office. He ran because he felt that Hannistein and the rest of his party was too soft. They did not share his own passion for Galardia, they was more interested in making deals, saving face, preventing conflict than taking for Galardia what was manifestly her’s. His opponent was Hannistein-light, even more weak-willed and willing to compromise the qualities that made Galardia a great nation.

On the political spectrum, Bjornheim was an unabashed Nationalist, to an extreme degree. He believed that Galardia was for Galardians, natural born Galardians. He argued against any form of immigration, he wanted to institute laws to remove any unnaturalized citizen from the country, and he wanted to strip naturalization from those that had been.

Unlike Hannistein, Bjornheim was also friendly to the idea of slavery. The Hoslkervact quickly ratified a new constitutional edict establishing the institution of slavery within Galardia once Bjornheim was in power. Galardia had given itself the power to subjugate any of its neighboring nations and enslave the population if it so chose to. With none of the other nations able to field an army large enough to stop Galardia, the rest of the continent quickly fell over the course of the next six years.

There was only one nation that refused to submit to Galardia; a tiny nation called Gol, that had been founded just a few years before Hannistein died, in the Varoor Valley just southwest of Galardia. Gol had negotiated and agreement with Hannistein that they would be guaranteed autonomy in exchange for a 25% cut of the gold from their ten active mines until such time that both parties either agreed with consolidation or until the mines became barren.

The only reason such an agreement was possible was due to the nature of the ancestry of the citizens of Gol who were descended from the ancient Golians, a race of nomadic hermits that made their homes within the extreme frozen north of Tilrin where most others could not survive. Over the course of many years, the Golians began a migration southward until they settled the lands where Gol now stood some three hundred years ago.

As Galardia began its ascent to a nation of power, the peoples of Gol sensed a threat on the horizon and felt that formalizing their claim to their now ancestral territory was the best means of protecting it and themselves. While weak in terms of brute military force, the citizens of Gol were masters of nature and in combat employed their vast array of knowledge to wage asymmetric fights against their enemies, overwhelming traditional tactics and strategy.

Hannistein knew this and instead of coming down hard on Gol, sought to attempt to defuse a future land mine for Galardia. Bjornheim, on the other hand, had no such compulsions. He did not accept Gol’s claim to the land, in fact he viewed all of Tilrin as the property of Galardia and the other nations on the continent as squatters. He gave Gol an ultimatum; surrender to Galardia or be forced to do so by any means at his disposal.

The people of Gol were not intimidated, they detested war but if it came to them, they would wage it. To do otherwise was suicide, you cannot make peace with an aggressor. This was a lesson passed down from their ancestors fight against nature in the north; you have to fight for survival, curse the world, and use all means at your disposal for survival. There could be no complacency, just one night in the winter without firewood would mean the death of your family.

From this the Golians learned to be stalwart, stubborn, and to never give up even in the face of insurmountable odds for no odds were truly insurmountable to the Human spirit. In this situation, all of these ideals could be applied and were. While this infuriated Bjornheim, he gave them a second chance to surrender; the resources that would be consumed to conquer this land would be expensive for the returns they would get. Gol again refused. So to war Gol and Galardia went.

The first skirmishes occurred in the spring of 1317. Bjornheim sent in ten platoons, 10,000 soldiers, to take the small country for Galardia. They were never heard from again. Bjornheim’s infuriation with Gol only increased and two months later he personally led an army of 60,000 soldiers to Gol.

When he arrived at the border crossing, he found a middle-aged man with several other men waiting. While many of the others were of average height and build, the oldest among them was short; only around five feet four inches tall. He was, however, built like an ox; he was wide and heavily muscled. His short brown hair was disheveled and he supported a stubble beard. They had likely been on the road for months wherever they had come from.
The other thing Bjornheim noticed was his eyes, red. Not just red, but a bright, fierce, and fiery red.
Bjornheim was not sure who these people were or why they seemed to be blocking their path.

The older man stepped forward and announced his intentions. He had a gruff, stern voice that put Bjornheim on alert, he did not like the tone of his voice nor the continued look in his eyes; the look of a predator staring down its prey. This man, Bjornhiem was told, was the military leader of Gol, Jerrod Batlit. He said that they had captured all of the men Galardia had sent and were holding them prisoner. If Galardia wanted to secure their freedom, they were to turn back now.

Bjornheim was a bit taken aback at the brazenness of this man. Did he know he was talking to the ruler of Galardia? He acted as though they were of equal station when nothing could be further from the truth. After a moment of internal raging, Bjornheim composed himself and gave Batlit an ultimatum; move aside or be slain. Batlit sighed heavily and made a motion with his left hand.

The area was immediately swarming with Golain warriors, armed to the teeth for a battle. There were at least five thousand of them spilling out of the forest to their east. A smaller group, probably around two thousand strong, started up the road behind them in a flanking maneuver.

How had they hidden a force of this size? There had been no obvious signs that an army was present in the area. He guessed that the stories about the Golians were indeed true; they knew the land well and their ancestry living in the wilds gave them a unique set of skills. Still, they outnumbered these ruffians almost ten to one, he still held the upper hand in this situation.

Batlit stated that this was Galardia’s last chance to back down and return to their lands. Bjornheim scoffed and moved in to strike the fool with his sword. He found himself on his back on the ground so fast that he had a hard time understanding what had happened for a few moments. The two men that had been with Batlit when they had arrived had moved forward, prevented Bjornheim from drawing his weapon, and pinned him to the ground before he had any chance to react.

Bjornheim’s men shifted forward but stopped after commanded to by Batlit. He once more warned them to leave. Bjornheim ordered his men to attack. He was still pinned to the ground struggling against the two men to get up; they were incredibly strong.

A Galardian soldier ran forward and stabbed his sword through the midsection of one of the men detaining Bjornheim as the scene devolved into chaos. Yells and screams could be heard as the two sides clashed. Bjornheim got to his feet and whirled around to see a Golian charging at him. Bjornheim sidestepped his attacker to allow one of his men to step forward and skillfully whisk the would-be attacker in a half-circle to the left where another Galardian awaited to cut the Golian’s throat as he passed by. Bjornheim’s eyes locked onto Batlit’s and the two strode toward each other.

A Galardian soldier approached Batlit from the side, thinking that he was in his blind spot. Bjornheim watched this man, with unreal reflexes and speed, whip around and snap his attacker’s neck before returning his focus and direction of movement back toward him. Bjornheim had underestimated these people, he thought them simple nomads, but they were hard warriors. He respected them for their bravery, even though it was going to lead to all of their deaths in the end.

Batlit and Bjornheim met in the middle of a ring of gore; bodies from both sides were laying all around them as the fighting raged on. Bjornheim noted that he saw many more bodies of his men than the Golians lying around him. This was the first moment in this battle that he felt that he may have made a critical error. Nonetheless, he was committed at this point.

The two men stared at each other, rage blazing in their eyes. While it had seemed that Batlit was unarmed, Bjornhiem noticed a glinting from his back; something metallic. Batlit reached back and drew a wicked looking war axe from his back. The axe head was an irregular shape, it curved outward from the shaft and continued down for several more inches instead of curving back inward to the shaft like a traditional axe head. It looked like a heavy weapon but Batlit was wielding it with a single hand while his other now held a small round wooden shield with a metal reinforcement ring around the outer edge that had been sharpened to make it a weapon.

Bjornheim drew his claymore and held it in front of him in a defensive stance, waiting for Batlit to make the first move. A moment passed, then another. They stood locked in a dueler’s stalemate. The silence between the two was shattered when a Golian came rushing from Bjornheim’s right. With a great heave, he spun his claymore around into the center mass of the Golian, impaling him on the long blade. Bjornheim wrenched his weapon free of the body and turned back to face Batlit.

All around them the battle continued with shouts, screams, cries of agony as the two sides brutalized each other. Bjornheim focused on Batlit until all of the sounds around them faded away and all that was left was the sound of his raging heartbeat in his ears. He would wait no longer, the ambitious would be victorious was his motto and he lived it in all things, including battle. He strode forward toward Batlit and raised his claymore into the air in an arc around his body until the blade came back down on top of Batlit’s shield with a loud bang.

The shield fared surprisingly well against the heavy blade. Batlit had caught the edge of the sword on the sharpened edge seeking to limit the damage, but there were still tell tale signs that the wooden shield was being stressed well beyond its limits. Batlit was about to commit to a strike when Bjornheim stepped back. This man was no ameture with a two-handed weapon, Batlit realized. This fight was going to be more of a struggle than anticipated.

Batlit chanced a glance around himself to see what was transpiring with the battle. Many of his warriors lay dead on the ground but even more of Galardia’s soldiers did also. It was still not quite enough, Galardia had brought more than he had expected and they were better equipped and trained than he thought they would be for conscripts. If he was to win this battle, he had to cut the head off the snake first. The problem was that this snake had a long fang.

Batlit moved forward, in chase of Bjornheim knowing that if caught off-guard even a seasoned longswords man would have trouble reacting. To his surprise, it seemed that Bjornheim had read his move and was already in the process of attacking him mid-stride. Batlit threw up his shield just in time and braced his body with his legs, awaiting the impact of the sword. Came it did.

With a loud splitting sound, Bjornheim rended Batlit’s shield in half and caused the small warrior to sink several centimeters into the ground. His sword passed through and sliced, shallowly, into Batlit’s right shoulder. Batlit winced slightly as he backed up and took a moment to register the wound he had taken. Bjornheim cursed that he had been a second too slow, it was enough time for Batlit to adjust to minimize the damage. Still, he had gotten a clean slice on his foe and destroyed his protection. The battle was favoring him now.

Batlit looked down at his shield which had mostly been split in half. Part of it hung on by mere splinters. He reached down and broke off the damaged half but kept hold of the rest of the shield. Bjornheim scoffed, but stopped shortly after when the bladed edge of the shield sliced through his plate armor as if it were simple cloth. He felt the sharp edge cutting through his chest as Batlit spun around, dragging the shield across his target.

Bjornheim, in a moment of clarity, reached down and unsheathed a short dagger from his belt and jammed it into his foe’s side and then backed away to steady himself. His wound was not that deep, but it could have been much worse. He was alive due to sheer dumb luck; Batlit had slipped during his lunge when he stepped on one of his own man’s corpse.

Batlit let out a growl as he fell to a knee and wrenched the dagger from his right side. Blood oozed from the wound; he didn’t know if the blade had pierced his liver, but it had been in the right area to do so. That was a death sentence if it had, he had to end this quickly and seek the aid of a healer. Batlit stood and resumed his attack posture. Bjornheim was amazed that he could stand with his injury, he should be crippled with pain. The dagger had a serrated edge, he kept it on him in case an enemy moved in closer than his attack range and he needed something to defend himself with.

Batlit was more cautious now. He realized he was dealing with a seasoned warrior that had learned all of the lessons of someone who had lived as and progressed on from being less skilled swordsman. He would need to employ craft and skill here to win; without his shield and with his side wound, he was at a severe disadvantage. Batlit made the first move, he surged forward to attack but then dropped down into a stoop and lunged around Bjornheim’s unarmed side.

At the end of his movement, he reached over for an axe that was laying on the ground near the body of one of his men and threw it at Bjornheim with all of his might. Bjornheim saw it coming but the speed at which it had been thrown was tremendous. It took all of his skill from decades of wielding his weapon to bring it up in time to deflect the axe and by then he was unable to defend against Batlit’s next attack which he had launched as soon as the axe had covered half of the distance between them.

Batlit had lunged again; this time right for Bjornheim, his battle axe held high, the sun glinting off of the oddly shaped head. He brought it crashing down on his foe’s knee. Bjornheim understood then why the design of his axe was so different. It was meant for penetration. The extra heft added to the head and the straight edged lower section were designed for maximum cutting foce. The axe slid through his armor as though it wasn’t there and severed the lower part of Bjornheim’s left leg clean off.

The pain was intense, unlike anything he had felt before. Bjornheim’s vision became tunneled, and his focus drifted as it consumed his thoughts. A loud scream tore from his throat a second later and he fell to the ground in agony.

Fighting against the overwhelming sensations, he gritted his teeth and reached for his sword. He lifted it just as Batlit had jumped for him again and caught him through the neck with the blade. It tore through Batlit’s flesh and ripped through the side of his throat, killing him instantly. He had a look of surprise on his face, he apparently didn’t think Bjornheim would be capable of much in the state he was in.

Suddenly the sounds of the battle around him rushed back into his senses as did his pain. He looked around through a haze of pain and agony to see that most of the Golians had been slain and those that were left were being disposed of. Galardia had won this battle, though the cost both to him personally and as the leader of the country had been high. In all, only eight thousand of his men were alive after the battle was over. It shook him that a mere force of around seven to eight thousand had nearly wiped out a force of sixty thousand soldiers. The Golians were indeed fierce fighters and he would never forget his fight with Batlit.

While his men urged him to return back to Galardia to seek medical attention, Bjornheim was adamant that they press forward. He knew that given enough time, Gol would field another army and this battle would happen once more. He intended to prevent that and secure his goal; his men would not die for nothing. He ordered a field medic to tourniquet his leg and sear the end of his stump closed for now, then reformed his army’s ranks and continued on into Gol.

It took them three days to reach the capital city of Gol, Freizcruz. In order to show the Golians who they were dealing with, Bjornheim had brought several of the corpses of the Golians they had killed including Batlit’s. He had his men erect poles and string up the bodies in the center of town and demanded their immediate surrender. With the bulk of their army defeated, Gol had little choice but to do so.

That isn’t to say there was no resistance. Initially the leaders of Gol, at the insistence of the people, rejected Bjornheim’s demands even as his army stood within their capital. Bjornheim was impressed with how unflinching these people were even in the face of certain death. He believed that would make them valuable slaves for Galardia once broken.

Bjornheim ordered his men to set up a base camp right in the city center and to cause as much disruption as possible to those trying to move throughout the city. His plan was to force them to retaliate against him again and again until they gave in. With enough prodding any mental toughness can be overcome; the only question is what types of incentives would it take for them to realize this themselves.

As expected, at first the Golians were very careful not to interact with the Galardians as much as they might have wanted to. This became harder as Bjornheim escalated their intrusion into the everyday lives of the citizens. Every couple of days, he would send out patrols through the city streets to stop travelers carrying food and drink to confiscate it for his men.

This got some in the town a bit more riled up, but the reaction was not what Bjornheim had wanted. They needed to go further. He started ordering groups to patrol daily in different sections of the city and force shop owners to pay them a percentage of their daily earnings. Threats of violence to property and person were used to elicit the exchange.

On the third day of this tactic a small group of young adult males marched into Galardia’s camp and started getting rough with the soldiers. Bjornheim has strictly ordered them not to retaliate yet, he wanted the frustration to reach palpable levels before he laid out his trap.

Some soldiers got knocked around a bit, but they and the rest just traded immature jabs with the Golians, trying to egg them on into an action that the soldiers would have no choice by to act in response to. The group left angry than they arrived after about an hour, you could hear their shouting from blocks away. It brought a smile to Bjornheim’s face; just a bit more pressure.

After several weeks of confiscation of wages, Bjornheim announced to all that were in earshot that he would offer half of the money they had collected, approximately 14,583 geldir, to the individual who could bring him the head of one of their fellow townsfolk. While Gol was not impoverished by any means nor were they a rich nation. That amount of geldir would amount to almost a year and a halfs wages for the average worker.

This little antic got the response that Bjornheim was looking for. Not three hours later, the town guard marched, triple file, into the Galardian encampment armed to the nines. There were at least sixy of them. They were still outnumbered five to one by the group Bjorheim had brought with him for this exercise.

The lead guard demanded that the offer of money for the murder of a citizen of Gol been rescinded and that the Galardians leave the country. Bjornheim had his powder keg, now all he need do was light the fuse. Light it he did.

Bjornheim ordered that all but the lead guard be killed. Even with all of the weaponry they had brought, the Golians only managed to kill five Galardians while all of their forces were lost. Bjornheim told the lead guard to take a message back to his superiors; Galardia would stay in its rightful territory until Gol submitted and more stuiff like this would happen until they did.

The town was in an uproar, weeks of frustration boiling over at various public gatherings that Bjornheim made sure to attend in order to stoke the flames higher. People were fed up with what he and his men had been doing which had progressed to harassing people traveling through or around the city center up to and including holding women and children as hostages for hours at a time.

Whenever Bjornhiem would saunter into one of the meetings, the entire gathering would explode in shouts of anger. His goals were in sight, he just needed to enact the final push and then this country would be his. While nothing of real substance came about from the gatherings to determine what to do about the Galardians, it became clear to the leadership in Gol that the situation was more desperate than they had first thought. They had underestimated Bjornheim, maybe in such a way that was impossible to recover from.

Bjornheim backed off of the more extreme actions he had his men taking, but still kept up the daily harassment patrols for food and geldir. He waited two more weeks and then ordered his men to burn down the most popular bakery in the town and to bring the Baker and his family back to the camp. Golians were streaming behind his men as they came back with the Baker, his wife, and their adult daughter.

The tension was think enough to feel; this was perfect, the perfect atmosphere to trigger a riot. As the hostages were brought into the center of the camp as it was beginning to be surrounded by angry Golians, Bjornheim motioned to the Baker and his wife. His men dragged them over to him where he ordered them to be killed. With her parents crumpled on the ground in front of him, Bjornheim motioned to the daughter and said that she would be coming back with him to Galardia and announced to the now ravenous crowd that he had heard their pleas to leave and that they would be doing so immediately, he even added a pensive tone as if acknowledging the wrongs he and his men had done.

The fuse was lit and the keg exploded instantly. At first, the surge of bodies overwhelmed the soldiers holding the perimeter around the camp and Golians surged in from the east. This was actually to Bjornheim’s advantage though as he ordered his men to encircle the group that had entered and kill them.

Weapon to weapon fighting then broke out on the south side of the camp where a group of warriors charged into the soldiers guarding the gate. The Golians managed to overcome the soldiers stationed there, but were then cut down by their reinforcements who were much better armed. Meanwhile, along the north side of the camp townsfolk were throwing stones, bricks, and other projectiles at the Galardians.

Several teams of soldiers broke rank and exited into the crowd, slashing and jabbing in all directions traveling west. This cause that group of Golians to run into and sow confusion with another, larger group of well-outfitted warriors that were coming from deeper in the city. In the confusing collision of the two groups, the Galardians were able to slip through the throngs of people and execute the warriors without too much trouble.

Bjornheim made sure that the woman they had capture was securely restrained and immobilized, then walked to the north where three men had appeared. All of them looked as well battle-worn as Batlit. These must be the last line of defense, the last hope of this country Bjorn thought as he advanced on them, his new, metal leg clanging loudly off of the group as he walked unevenly toward them.

One of them men pointed at his leg and made a comment that the rest laughed at, something about having to fight a cripple. Bjorheim made him regret that immediately and showed his foes that fake leg or not, he was still a warrior himself. He half jumped, half dashed just to the left of the man that made the comment and as he came to a stop, used the momentum to spin around brining his sword clean through the man’s neck.

With their comrade's body now falling to the ground the remaining two became stone faced and retreated back several paces, drawing their weapons. They seemed to recognize the danger they faced now. To further hit that discovered truth home, he pointed at the now rotting corpse of Batlit behind him and said he was the one who defeated him in single combat.

The faces on the two men grew even more stony, it seemed they understood what that meant about his skill as a fighter. Now that they were taking this seriously, Bjornheim made his first move. Moving forward, he jammed his sword into the ground and used it as a vault, pulling it out behind him. The man on the left drew a strange looking weapon.

It was a short sword, but the width of the blade was twice that of normal and it narrowed as it reached the point. Along the blade were edges, razor sharp, etched across the entire length. The warrior move forward to get within Bjorheim’s range and stab him with it, but Bjorheim almost effortlessly used his momentum to spin to the side and bring the whole length of his sword through the body of the man, cutting him in half vertically.

When he landed, Bjronheim stumbled and winced as his fake leg jammed up into his leg stub and penitraited it. This moment of distraction was enough for the other warrior to draw a normal hand axe from his belt and throw it at him. The axe lodged into his armor, digging in deep enough to cut into Bjornheim’s back.

The sudden rush of pain caught him off guard as did the weight of the man who had apparently rushed after his weapon and launched himself onto it, pushing it in deeper. Bjornheim let out a howl of pain as he felt the blade sink deeper into his left shoulder. With a surge of strength and the rush of battle starting to flow through him, Bjornheim stood up with the warrior still gripping the weapon he had been attempting to dislodge from his shoulder.

The man was suspended in mid-air, stunned, as Bjornheim spun around and aimed the warrior at the side of a building, crushing him into it with a fierce twist. He let out a grunt as the force of the impact ripped the axe out of his body as the warrior fell to the street. Before his foe could stand back up, Bjornheim walked over, raised his weapon above the head of his enemy and plunged it deep. The warrior was killed instantly.

He hobbled back into the thrum of the larger battle where his men were finishing off the last of the attackers that hadn’t fled. It was another few hours before quite returned to the city center along with the bodies of dozens of men and women that had come to attack them. Bjornheim ordered his men to take all of the bodies and to string them up on poles through the city. He also wanted the three warriors he had fought and killed to be raised outside the city council building, including the head.

The next morning the people of Freicruz awoke to a grizzly sight. The bodies of seventy nine of their fellow citizens were strung up on poles including the remaining members of the Khalzgurt, their most elite fighting unit that had been captained by Jerrod Batlit. This was enough to break the nearly indomintable spirit of the Golians. They surrendered to Bjornheim and Galardia several days later after coming to the conclusion they stood no chance of winning.

Bjornheim returned to Galardia a hero. For the first time in their history, the leader of their country was not an all-talk politician, he was someone who would ensure himself that the goal was carried out and won. With Bjornheim in charge, Galardia would become dominant, forever, on their continent. This only supercharged the nationalist factions within the country and soon the true nature of their ideology was on full display.

It became a capital crime to publicly or privately denounce Bjornheim. All other political parties were deemed illegal and were forcefully disbanded. Bjornheim’s political foes were arrested and thrown in jail without cause and those outside of the reach of the military police often found themselves the victims of assassinations with poisons and more conventional weapons alike.

After what happened in Gol, any resistance the other nations had put up fell to dust and Galardia was able to forcefully annex, in full, every other country on Tilrin. The spoils of war were plenty and Galardians prospered off of the literal backs of the rest of the continent.

Lairin Stadgroider was the woman that Bjornheim had abducted from Gol that night. She was in her late twenties, twenty eight to be exact. She was rather pretty with silken chestnut colored hair that fell to he waist and deep red eyes which were one of the common staples of the Golians. She was five feet seven inches tall with pale tanned skin and a well-proportioned body.

What Bjornheim was most interested in, though, was her fierce personality. She attempted to defy him at every opportunity, missing not one chance he gave her to retaliate against him. He was fascinated with her fierceness and her intuition.

The average Galardian woman might have struggled for a while, but would eventually have just accepted her fate. Lairin, though, never let her guard down, never succumbed to victimization, and was always ready to fight against him given the opportunity.

However, they both knew that when push came to shove she would be unable to overpower him and she knew just what would happen at that moment. She was prepared for it, but it would end up breaking her just as Bjornheim’s machinations had broken her country.

A few years passed while Bjornheim finished installing Galardia’s new government; gone were the days of the democracy that had once been, in its place now stood a monarchy. The Hoslkervact was gone, once Bjornheim has started putting his true plans into place and his political party members began installing the ultra-nationalist policies he wanted, they had revolted against him.

There were still enough weak minded and dirty blooded fools to get in his way so he had them all, including his supporters, killed and the Hoslkervact burned to the ground. He was now the sole ruler of the country and his word was law without question or recourse. The judicial system which had once acted as a means of checks, balances, and a forum for accountability was turned into a tool of retaliation against those that violated Galardia’s laws and denounced its ruler.

A caste system was emplaced where those who could prove their pure lineage were given massive authority over those that did not and depending on how pure your lineage was, you were relegated to lower and lower station. Those with less than half Galardian ancestry were relegated to human chattel to those above them and turned into a slave labor force. Those with the purest lineages were given hundreds of slaves to do with as they would. The rest who were not slaves but also lower in station were allowed to purchase slaves for ten thousand geldir a head.

Any unowned slaves were the property of the state and were forcefully kept in conditions that would prevent mass uprisings. As news of the state of affairs reached the rest of the world, other nations were quick to denounce the crimes against humanity that were occurring in Galardia. It was suggested more than once by several heads of state that a multi-national coalition should be formed to destroy Galardia and return freedom back to Tilrin.

None of these plans ever got near a state of action, Minsor made sure that any coalition of nations fell apart through blackmail, strategic release of sensitive information, and other means to break them apart. Minsor even triggered several small wars between allied nations to prevent them from successfully attacking either Galardia or Minsor. This was the power Minsor had at the time, and they used it to aide their staunch ally.

Life became extremely harsh for the non-Galardian’s in Tilrin. Mass deaths were not uncommon as various diseases once controlled ran rampant through the slave communities controlled by the state where a majority of people resided. Those that had been purchased or given to Galardians were subjected to much more human living conditions as many of them were put to work producing wealth for their masters.

This system was protected by having the women and children being kept separately from the men and in different locations. The men were forced to work and if they got out of line too many times, the punishment would be on his family, if he had one, and he would be forced to continue working.

It was a brutal and oppressive system, but they still lived better than the state-owned slaves who were herded like chattel, moved around from auction to auction for sale. Morale was nearly at zero when they realized that no nation was coming to help them either because they feared Galardia’s military might, from outside influences, or because they simply did not care.


1322
In 1322 AD the first signs of a full-fledged rebellion began to appear. It started with an assassination attempt on Bjornheim. He was celebrating with his ambassadors to Minsor, Noil, and his men the successful and complete subjugation of Dalinath by Minsor. The event marked the turning of the age, the previous superpower was no more and was replaced by this alliance between Minsor and Galardia.

As the revelry carried on, one of the waiter staff pulled out a knife as he walked by Bjornheim and stabbed him in the center of the heart with it. Bjornheim was shocked at first, but quickly overcame it and with great effort, grabbed the man by the throat and crushed it with the ease of a man of his stature; he had been getting stronger, more muscular with age.

The body of the waiter crumpled to the ground, a look of shocked horror still on his face. Bjornheim fell to his knees and started to pull out the knife before Noil stopped him and said that however he had lived through this attack, pulling it out now would surely kill him.

Bjornheim was rushed to a nearby hospital where highly experienced surgeons worked on him for sixteen hours. He survived the assassination attempt, and his legend grew among his people. It was the closest Bjornheim had ever been to death and it had refocused his attention on one area that ne needed to address and soon; he required an heir to take over his throne.

Thus came to pass the moment Lairin had been silently dreading for years.

Bjornheim had no notion of fantasy. He knew that Lairin would never willfully give him what he wanted, so he researched her past and ancestry. He found out that she was the niece of Jerrod Batlit and that she had his bloodline in her. He also was able to find that her aunt and several of her cousins were still alive and held in the prison camps that housed the state-owned slaves.

He gave her a simple ultimatum. Give him a child and he would ensure that her extended family was moved to the castle where they would be put to hard work, but live better than any other slaves owned by those of lower stations, or refuse him, be forced to birth an heir and lose her family.

Lairin was furious, she attempted to take her own life many times over the next three weeks. Eventually Bjornheim had her secured in a prison cell in a tower of the castle, restrained so that she could not injure herself. She was force fed to keep her alive.

Bjornheim brought two of her cousins to see her; Kylar, who was Jerrod’s son, and Polta, who was Jerrod’s goddaughter and daughter to Jerrod’s uncle’s son Gregior. Kylar was living with his mother in Felskavact, one of the larger camps for family units. He was around seventeen at the time.

He was once a strong young boy who had dreams of joining his Father in the Khalzgurt. Now he was an emaciated ghost of a man, his skin tight across his bones from the meager amounts of food that found their way into the state camps. His once golden blond hair was now lackluster, completely filthy and covered in patches of dried blood. He had lost a finger, a common punishment in the camps for stealing.

Lairin’s heart was breaking at the sight of him, but what really shattered her was Polta. With both of her parents dead, she was being held in one of the many camps for orphans. Only familial relatives were allowed to live together, children and young adults that lived with family other than their parents were separated.

Polta was a young woman of twenty years of age. Her short, shoulder length fiery red hair was nothing more than a buzz cut now. It was her facial expression that broke Lairin; it was as if there was no person in her body. She looked at Lairin with a blank stare that one might give a stranger for a moment and then her face began to contort into a mixture of fear, shame, relief, and misery. They had been quite close back in Gol; before all of this.

She knew what they had done to her and it completely broke her will to resist any longer. She could not let these two return to the hell they were plucked from, she dreaded the state of everyone else she was about to save.
She agreed to Bjornheim’s demands.

Bjornheim responded saying that if she hadn’t taken so long maybe Polta would not have had to go through what she did. Lairin knew he was twisting the knife in her heart, trying to ensure that she would be docile and blame her own urge to resist for Polta’s predicament. She would play along, for now, but what it had engendered in her was a rage so great she feared that it would consume her before the deed could be carried out and place everyone at risk. She would have to control her temper, something she always had problems with; lives were depending on it.

Shortly after the conception of their child, Bjornheim learned that he had a half-brother. His Father had, had a mistress and had a child with her. At first Bjornheim was suspicious, but genetic testing proved it true. His brother’s name was named Minar, he was ten years younger than Bjornheim and stood five feet nine inches tall. He was a rotund man with an addiction to wine.

Bjornheim’s first reaction to meeting him was how different they were from each other. He had all of the power of an entire empire at his beck and call, and here was his brother chasing after food, wine, and women for most of his life, knowing his lineage and who he was but not revealing himself.

There was an ulterior motive at work, though he knew not what it was. His best move was to let it unfold, spring the trap as the saying goes. Minar was welcomed into the royal estate and Bjornheim made every attempt to make him feel welcome and to hide any notion of his suspicion.

Eight months later, Bjornheim and Lairin’s daughter was born. She was a healthy baby who had inherited her Mother’s fiery red hair and her Uncle's fiery red eyes. Her appearance unsettled Bjornheim somewhat, sometimes it seemed like he was staring into hellfire itself. As for her name, Bjornheim had a plan to break the remaining Golians’ spirit.

Out of all of the slaves in the country, the Golians gave them the most trouble. They were the ones behind the assassination attempts, they encouraged small revolts and strikes wherever they were housed at. A few times some small groups even managed to kill some guards and take over their camps for a short time.

The Golian problem, as it was referred to as within the government. There were three possible solutions devised. First, the wholesale slaughter of the Golians. Bjornheim did not favor this as it would diminish their workforce significantly, the Golians proved to be much heartier than the other races and weathered their enslavement better on average than others.

The second was the expulsion of the Golians from Galardia. This one was viewed as a last resort because it would surely lead to a conflict with those they freed eventually, without question. The final option was to round up the Golains into isolated camps with a maximum of fifty occupants with a hundred guards to control them. This would be extremely costly, but was the preferred option at the time.

Bjornheim now had a fourth possibility. He would use this child of obvious Golian descent to make the Golians subservient. The prospect of one of their own being raised by their oppressors and to one day take over and continue this state of affairs should be enough of a trauma to render them unable to retaliate as they had been.

In a move that shocked much of the rest of Galardia, Bjornheim announced the birth of his daughter, Sandil Bjornheim Batlit, and stated that she would be the inheritor to the throne. Not only had their ruler made a child with a non-Galardian, but a Golian at that, and that she would one day rule. This event would have massive repercussions unforeseen by the normally incisive perception of Bjornheim.

Posts

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Yo, I am like half way through this now but I wanted to say the more I read your writing style the more I love it. I think in this case since the time frame is so small, you novelized it even more. I honestly can't imagine what you would do if you wrote an actual book. I think it would be pretty badass.

Appreciate the content warnings too. I am not really bothered by that stuff, but if someone is at least they can be aware that it will show up at some point or choose to skip this blog entry.

I kind of like the tone you set here with Galardia and Minsor. It feels like you mixed together some of the most despicable ideological parts of fascism (the 1938 German kind), with some of the bad stuff from Communism and Capitalism. It is a really interesting take so far.

I actually think it kind of works. I can kind of tell by how carefully some things are written that you were trying not to go too far in describing things which I totally get, though I think the impact would have been greater on me if you had. I'll take this though, it is pretty damn good at framing how scummy Galardia became due to Minsor's influences.

I liked the battle scene between Bjorhwhat's his name and Jerrod. It wasn't completely perfect, but it had weight to it that I don't feel in a lot of ameture writing around battles like this. There were real stakes for both sides and the events that happen seem reasonable and due to the nature of each of the individuals fighting how the battle progresses makes sense.

Like, I like how when Jerrod gets shanked there is a pause as he feels the impact that has on his body, but due to his ancestry he is able to easily fight through his pain where as Bjorndude (I know his name, not typing it right because he is a dick) gets completely wrecked and it takes him a lot of effort at the end of the fight to do anything.

Very realistic writing based on the characteristics of each participant. I will add more thoughts after I finish reading everything.

__

Damn man, alright yeah that was pretty heavy, but like I said before, I think it is fair to go this dark for this. I feel like you kinda set us up for this up in the Felgarin lore. You mentioned a couple of times that Galardia was a "slaver nation" that did some reprehensible things based on information there was on Sandil and that other woman from the UNG that was part of Vasin's generals.

Personally I like stories that have dark in them, it makes them more real. Stories that are overly happy (like some of the more children focused Disney movies) I just don't find appealing because they don't feel real. Then you get something like Hunchback of Notre Dame that is insanely dark and realistic feeling.

That there is true evil in Elisnar, or was historically, just makes it feel that much more real to me. Every world is going to have its shit eras where some really f'ed stuff happens; that is just a natural thing. What really matters is what happens in response to it and at the end I think you set up nicely that things aren't going to go well for Bjornass nor Galardia (well, we know that part because the UNG exists; Galardia didn't just poof from existence).

I will say though, that shit with Lairin was rough. Actually got a bit emotional reading through that which is nuts in and of itself, but I liked that even though she did give up for a moment, that stupid bastard said something that snapped her out of it and gave her motivation to keep going.

I like how Bjornass has progressed so far from a kind of (kind of is holding up the entire world here) reasonable person with a good understanding of cause and effect to being more arrogant and more apt to say things that he knows, or did recognize in the past, will come back to bite him somehow.

Like how at the end you state that his grand idea to deal with the Golians has made the Galardian's shooketh because their leader decide to wander outside the "Sweet Home Alabama"ed (I would assume given their ideology) gene pool.

Can't imagine that not having some kind of consequences later. I keep saying this dude because it is true, the more I read of your writing style the more I love it.
author=TrashCanEnthusiast
Yo, I am like half way through this now but I wanted to say the more I read your writing style the more I love it. I think in this case since the time frame is so small, you novelized it even more. I honestly can't imagine what you would do if you wrote an actual book. I think it would be pretty badass.


Actually, I have taken a stab at book writing. I wrote a four book series in high school. It's something like 740 pages long in total and I was working on a fifth book which was pretty long (200 pages when I stopped). Haven't done much with it lately but I had wanted to attempt to re-write it now that I have a lot more experience with writing.


author=TrashCanEnthusiast
Appreciate the content warnings too. I am not really bothered by that stuff, but if someone is at least they can be aware that it will show up at some point or choose to skip this blog entry.


Yeah, I was thinking if I needed them or not, but decided to include them just because some of the topics are pretty heavy ones. Like you said, if someone doesn't want to read things within specific topics, they should be warned ahead of time so they can make that choice.


author=TrashCanEnthusiast
I kind of like the tone you set here with Galardia and Minsor. It feels like you mixed together some of the most despicable ideological parts of fascism (the 1938 German kind), with some of the bad stuff from Communism and Capitalism. It is a really interesting take so far.


Ah good, I was not sure if that was getting across. Yeah, I wanted to meld all of them together in a way that made some sense. A lot of people consider them competing ideologies, but really they aren't. Pieces of each exist in all three and in the other political ideologies as well. I wanted to make Galardia that 1930's type of evil, but even more so in terms of the greed, and governmental segregation of wealth classes, and the distribution of stuff.

Minsor and Galardia are easily the more despicable countries in the game's lore. While Minsor slightly atones and moderates, Galardia just continues to descend into hell and it eventually destroys them both from within and with out.



author=TrashCanEnthusiast
I liked the battle scene between Bjorhwhat's his name and Jerrod. It wasn't completely perfect, but it had weight to it that I don't feel in a lot of ameture writing around battles like this. There were real stakes for both sides and the events that happen seem reasonable and due to the nature of each of the individuals fighting how the battle progresses makes sense.

Like, I like how when Jerrod gets shanked there is a pause as he feels the impact that has on his body, but due to his ancestry he is able to easily fight through his pain where as Bjorndude (I know his name, not typing it right because he is a dick) gets completely wrecked and it takes him a lot of effort at the end of the fight to do anything.

Very realistic writing based on the characteristics of each participant. I will add more thoughts after I finish reading everything.



This is something I worked on really hard with my writing. I read a lot of anime fanfics as a teenager and the one thing a lot of them had in common was that the fight scenes were trash because they just mirrored what happened in the anime so you had a lot of "ahhh"ing for power ups and stuff.

The writers didn't connect that without the visual side of the fight, that stuff is boring as hell. You have to describe visually what is going on and write out the choreography of the fight as it is happening. I think that is why you felt that "weight" you were talking about. Character's actions have some kind of effect on what is going on and to do certain things, they have to put effort into it.

Like it would have been easy to make Bjornheim wave his massive sword around like it was a dagger or something, but he doesn't have that anime strength so he has to exert a lot to do anything with it and all of his time with that style of fighting made him a master in it and that was the only reason he was able to beat Jerrod.

I am way more interested in that style of writing that just giving characters tropey anime stuff unless it either fits the story or the characterization of the character. As far as Emilar goes, I am trying to ground everything as much as possible in realism within a more fantasy world.


author=TrashCanEnthusiast
I will say though, that shit with Lairin was rough. Actually got a bit emotional reading through that which is nuts in and of itself, but I liked that even though she did give up for a moment, that stupid bastard said something that snapped her out of it and gave her motivation to keep going.


I thought I might have gone a bit too far with it, but at the same time I think it is necessary for her character to go through that event. It makes what she does later more reasonable. I had a hard time writing it though, I didn't want to like explicitly say what happened, but I wanted enough context clues for the reader to fill in the blanks.


author=TrashCanEnthusiast
I like how Bjornass has progressed so far from a kind of (kind of is holding up the entire world here) reasonable person with a good understanding of cause and effect to being more arrogant and more apt to say things that he knows, or did recognize in the past, will come back to bite him somehow.


Geeze, I was worried about all of these things you have mentioned. I didn't think that they would come through. Glad they seem to. Yes, as Bjornheim gets more used to his role, he gets too lax and the senses he honed as a warrior on the battle field start breaking down.

He would never have said what he did to Lairin or announced what he did at the start of his lore because he would have recognized the future danger that they posed. He is his own undoing in the end by the ideology he helped to create; the way all autocrats eventually end up.


author=TrashCanEnthusiast
Like how at the end you state that his grand idea to deal with the Golians has made the Galardian's shooketh because their leader decide to wander outside the "Sweet Home Alabama"ed (I would assume given their ideology) gene pool.

Can't imagine that not having some kind of consequences later. I keep saying this dude because it is true, the more I read of your writing style the more I love it.


Same as I mentioned above. As for the gene pool comment, holy hell lmao. I mean I suppose that would make sense given where Galardia is going in part 2, if you will only be with those that are "pure" eventually you're dating your second cousin or something. The Hapsburgs for example; yes, that is probably a deep history cut for this site.

Glad you liked the lore blog though and that it seems, at least based on your comments, that I struck the right balance. I waited a minute or two before hitting that Submit button.
author=LMPGames
Actually, I have taken a stab at book writing. I wrote a four book series in high school. It's something like 740 pages long in total and I was working on a fifth book which was pretty long (200 pages when I stopped). Haven't done much with it lately but I had wanted to attempt to re-write it now that I have a lot more experience with writing.


Not surprised, would be interested to get more info some time.


author=LMPGames
Ah good, I was not sure if that was getting across. Yeah, I wanted to meld all of them together in a way that made some sense. A lot of people consider them competing ideologies, but really they aren't. Pieces of each exist in all three and in the other political ideologies as well. I wanted to make Galardia that 1930's type of evil, but even more so in terms of the greed, and governmental segregation of wealth classes, and the distribution of stuff.

Minsor and Galardia are easily the more despicable countries in the game's lore. While Minsor slightly atones and moderates, Galardia just continues to descend into hell and it eventually destroys them both from within and with out.


Came across loud and clear.


author=LMPGames
This is something I worked on really hard with my writing...


The amount of thought you put into this stuff is nuts. I am actually kind of excited for the writing tutorials on Youtube now. You have some really good insights on stuff. I wish more RPG Maker devs did the same, not that a lot don't but you know what I mean.


author=LMPGames
I thought I might have gone a bit too far with it, but at the same time I think it is necessary for her character to go through that event. It makes what she does later more reasonable. I had a hard time writing it though, I didn't want to like explicitly say what happened, but I wanted enough context clues for the reader to fill in the blanks.


Not for me, for other's it might. Like you said, I thought it fit the intention behind the scene well.


author=LMPGames
The Hapsburgs for example; yes, that is probably a deep history cut for this site.


Holy shit dude lmfao I did not expect to see a reference to the McChin's on RPGMaker.net.
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