Khan (Skellbrieg: The Eighth Continent) - Location Thread

Khan - The Great East

A geographic constituent of Skellbrieg, the mysterious, uncharted eighth continent of the globe, scarcely referenced in world history, the City of Khan is the only architecturally permanent settlement of the Khanasians, a fierce civilization of nomadic warriors. Situated in the Great East, beneath a large mountain and neighboring a lake, Khan has no walls and lounges under the warm incandescent rays of the sun. Though relatively large, the city is often scarcely populated due to the nomadic lifestyle of the Khanasian people demanding their feverish geographic peregrinations and conquests. Though primarily used to refer to the city, the large geographical territory in the city's region consistently occupied by the Khanasians is also referred to as 'Khan'.

History

Prior to the architectural erection of Khan, the territory formerly known as 'Rassul' was occupied mainly by powerful, nameless tribal confederations. Adhering to a policy of 'divide and rule', territorially motivated tribal disputes were encouraged with each of the nomadic tribes immersed in a violent era of bloodshed with several tribes claiming dominance over Rassul. It was during this period however, that the Khanasians emerged. Said to have ridden on their horses from the farthest edges of the continent, these copper-skinned, raven-haired nomads came not in the name of peace or brotherhood, but of conquest.

Led into battle by their Haffajee (military commander), the Khanasians' superior war tactics, unique brand of ferocity and unrelenting violence, cohesiveness, and mystical esotericism brought forth the brutal butchering of the disorganized tribal confederations in the 'Night of Khan'. Remaining survivors were either enslaved or if suitable warriors, embraced as a fellow tribesman. Founding their first and only city 'Khan' primarily as a grandiose monument to eternally symbolize their decisive military victory, the Khanasians have since set their sights on first conquering the Great East, and gradually, Skellbrieg as a whole, justifying their oppressive ambition by attributing it to the instructions of their mother goddess 'Aethra' to spread their Khanasian glory to the very edge of the world.

Geography & Wildlife

With a varied geographical character, the terrain encompassing Khan is ripe with mountains and rolling plateaus, with a high degree of relief. Desert-like in it's southern regions, cold and mountainous in it's northern regions, wet and tropical in the east, and forested in the west, Khan mostly consists of steppes, with a certain degree of forested areas. Prone to climatic extremities, Khan is relatively hot during the summer, but dramatically cold in the winter accompanied by a vast front of cold, heavy, shallow air that collects in river valleys and low basins.

A high, cold, and windy region, Khan has an extreme continental climate with long, cold winters and succinct summers, during which most of its annual precipitation falls. The winters in particular are prone to blizzards, freezing rain, and snowstorms. Though very cold in the north, Khan's southern areas are as previously mentioned, desert-like, often afflicted with insufficient vegetation, and described as 'nearly inhospitable wastelands' by the Khanasian nomads. Though gargantuan crocodiles, anthropomorphized creatures and the like are common sights in the Great East, none are more prevalent in Khan than the frost trolls and ice giants in the far north, lizard-men in the southern desert regions, and serpentine tiger-dragons (bronze dragons boasting tiger-like stripes) atop mountain peaks.

The eastern and western territories of Khan harbor fauna of less hostility. The dense, tropical terrain of the east however, is home to many a poisonous insects, certain species ranging from the size of small dogs to grown bears. The western territories however, are drier, less prone to precipitation but still a forested area, one that serves as the habitat for a collection of vicious, feral beasts e.g. werewolves, werebears.

The City of Khan

The heart of Khanasian culture, the City of Khan is relatively large due to it's expansive layout, it however harbors a small population endorsed by the nomadic lifestyle of the Khanasians. The city itself lies in the shadow of a single, vast peak. It has broad, windswept streets paved in grass and mud. Wooden towers, stone pavilions, manses of woven grass, log halls, and stepped pyramids all festoon the large city. A broad, grassy road runs through the heart of the city in a linear path, passing through the various trade markets in the city, a lake, and other features.

Because of their nomadic lifestyle, the city is inhabited largely by survivors of Khanasian raids and invasions, the elderly, children, and those unfit or unwilling to fight as their civilization's warriors. The Khanasians often return to the city simply to trade in it's two markets. The first being a grand bazaar used by traders from nearby regions. It is characterized by a large square of beaten earth surrounded by mud-baked brick, animal pens and whitewashed drinking halls. Hummocks rise from the earth and beneath the square lie large storerooms. The interior of this square is composed of stalls aisles.

The other market however, is one where traders of more exotic ethnic backgrounds with rarer items are located.

Culture & Politics

A prominent feature of Khanasian Culture is a shared contempt of cities due to a variety of factors. Among those being their belief that the use of walls is an architectural representation of a military force's weakness, while additionally insisting that their lives are to take place largely under the open sky due to a religious belief that during the night, their ancestors take the form of stars in the night sky to guide them through their journeys and offer them spiritual guidance via constellations. Due to their nomadic lifestyle, Khanasians spend a large portion of their lives in portable tents. Though often depicted as a barbaric people, the Khanasians harbor an unseen tolerance of other religions, having no history of persecuting people on religious grounds.

This is largely a result of a form of progressive thought in their culture, but is also established in order to preserve social stability among those residing in the city by cultivating an atmosphere of religious acceptance and freedom, as well as freedom from religion. Interestingly enough, the Khanasians rejected the concept of money, preferring instead to barter. There is also a tradition of magic among the Khanasian people, often a balanced blend of divination and self-enhancement magic via enchanted items or tattoos dubbed 'Khan Tattoos'. Among the culturally established laws of Khan are the forbidding of the sale of women and children recognized as constituents of Khan society, the forbidding of theft of other's properties, and the hunting of animals during breeding season.

During the summer, the primary source of food for the Khanasians are dairy products largely consisting of fermented mare's milk, cheese etc., while during the winter, boiled meat served with wild garlic and onions were consumed. Though perhaps the most important feature of Khanasian Culture is the civilization's reliance on horses. Due to their self-sufficient, hard, and fast nature, horses, often aggrandized through supernatural, esoteric means, are used to travel long distances without fatigue. Adapted to the harsh winters of Khan, horses function as the most important military commodity for the Khanasians, their cavalry being the backbone of their army's might. The Khanasians as a society were governed by a political council consisting of eight equal Khan Chiefs, elected democratically by the people.

Military

Subject to intensive military drill from infancy, the Khanasians are a fierce and disciplined military force, valuing mobility, intelligence, planning, psychological warfare, flanking, improvisation, encirclement and opening. Each soldier typically maintains three or four horses. Changing horses allows them to travel at high speeds for days without stopping or exhausting the animals. This coupled with the soldiers' conditioned ability to live off the land and off their animals render his armies far less dependent on the traditional logistical apparatus of other armies. Additionally, this rare breed of mobility that his soldiers possess enable them to be sent on successful scouting missions, gathering intelligence about routes and searching for terrain suitable to their preferred tactics.

Often, the Khanasians use a lethal hail of spears, bows etc. to force enemies into spreading out or seeking cover, breaking up their formations while rendering them more vulnerable to his army's assault. When faced with an opposition with a reliance on formations of heavy cavalry, they avoid direct confrontation, instead they use their bows to pick enemy cavalry apart at long distances, usually by killing the horses in order to leave the heavily armored, less mobile enemy on foot and isolated. Important to their military force is the relentless practicing of horsemanship, archery, and unit tactics, formations and rotations repeatedly. Necessary for effectiveness, the Khanasians prize communication, requiring the use of a system of postal-relay horse stations for fast transfer of written messages.

Battlefield communication in particular makes use of signal flags and horns as well as signal arrows to communicate movement orders during battle. In addition, siege machines are required in assaults against fortified structures and cities. However, siege engines are not disassembled and carried by horses to be rebuilt at the site of the battle. Instead, the army travel with skilled engineers who build siege engines from materials on site. Certain factions of the army are tasked with carefully scouting out and spying on enemies in advance. Among their favored tactical implementations are the use of deception and psychological warfare.

When approaching a mobile army, they split into three or more army groups, each tasked with outflanking and surprising their adversaries. This is done in order to create a variety of scenarios for the opponents where the Khanasians appear to emerge from nothingness and that there are more of them than initially anticipated. Should the enemy prove particularly difficult, flanking and or feigning retreat is implemented. A fan of luring enemies into vulnerable positions, the Khanasians usually reveal themselves from a predetermined location such as a hill, an action quickly followed by disappearing into the woods or behind hills while strategically positioned forces would appear from the left, right and or from behind. Enchanted weaponry, warrior-wizards, and the like are often used by the Khanasian Military in their conquests.

Rules

1. Standard RPG Rules Apply
2. This thread is a location that's part of Warsman's Skellbrieg continent.
3. If you want to create a Khanasian or create character etc. linked to this somehow, PM either this account (Ambrosius) or my other one La_Espada.
4. Don't destroy etc. without my permission.
5. You can invade or attack the city with an army but don't just appear out of thin air within the city with an army :P
6. Have fun :)

Still organizing!

But good job.

Slow clap

Gracias mi bellas ;)

KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!

@la_espada:

As usual, you've humbled me :P

Well done.

@thisisgonnahurt: So much flattery :P

Thanks :)

K-ool!

@la_espada:

A lone figure, huddled and weak, still bearing the strength to move across the vast desert, appears on the horizon of Khan. The rags he uses to conceal his skin from the sun are suitable, but its green pigmentation still bleeds through. He is of Orc blood, particularly of the demon-taint. The rage of the Dark Horde simmers in his heart, but he is ready to do something about that.

With the right help, he can change the tides of Orc history and free them from eternal slavery.

But that all depends on if he can find it here.

@warboss:

Whispers of a hulking, malachite titan sprung to every corner within the desert city's dimensions, whispers that gradually reached the ears of the Khan Chiefs, and subsequently, the ears of their army's Haffajee, Ambrosius of the Great East. Tall, his herculean physique festooned by archaic, beryl tattoos, and jagged scars, the Khan Tiger emerges, his copper-complexion baking in the sun's warm, nurturing rays, footsteps guiding him through streets sheathed in dried mud and wild grass. Pausing before the gargantuan stranger, Ambrosius' auroral hazel eyes taciturnly discerned he who stood before him, an Orc Chieftain. His features stern, eyes garnished with an edge of predatory analysis prior to a mannerly transition into a less severe visage.

"We do not see many Orc chieftains come this way", Ambrosius began, the deep, gruff bass of his voice piercing through the silence settled between them, disturbed only by the audible swooshes of rampant winds.

@ambrosius:

Khan. The mighty city of the nomadic kings, whose swords crossed even those of giants. These would be time-honored roads he placed his feet on. As expected, the bustling metropolis kept a tightly-knit social structure leading straight to the top of the hierarchy. Once Rogash stepped foot upon the palace plaza, the guards did not budge. They were listening to the whispers as they passed through the air, carried by signals and intricate security measures. The Orc pounded a heavy fist against his chest, the resulting reverberation like a solid block of meat hitting a brick wall. He removed the hood to his sweat-choked rags, revealing his face. Two tusks pointed straight up out of his lower jaw, indicating his bright gold eyes that almost seemed completely white in the blinding noonday sun. His thick black hair, tied off into a horsetail, circled around his shoulder and slinked underneath his scraggly beard.

He could feel the eyes of a true killer looking up at him, their harsh investigation biting under his leathery skin.

"Nor would I expect them to. We're quite fond of places with shade," he said, stifling a short chuckle.

"My name is Rogash Bloodstomper, chief of my clan. I've come here to ask for your help."

@warboss:

Unwavering in his gaze, Ambrosius' striking golden eyes remained transfixed on the hulking traveler's, his indulged muteness indicative of his mental consideration of Rogash's civilly issued request. Taciturnly, his left hand shifted towards his right hip, taking hold of his curved, steel sickle sword, fingers coiling tightly around the hilt in a reverse grip. Raising his esoterically aggrandized blade by the hilt, hand gliding downwards towards the handle, allowing sufficient space for Rogash to grasp the hilt by the top as per Khanasian greeting customs, a benign smile curled along the Great East Tiger's hardy features, the rough bass of his voice again shattering the aromatically settled glass of silence.

The Orcs were among the fiercest, most hardened warriors of Skellbrieg, and to the battle-enamored, militaristic Khanasians, it warranted their utmost respect. "The people of Khan respect the Orcs, Chief Rogash", refitting his sickle sword into the restraining handle on his right hip, Ambrosius continued, "And surely, your request will not sully our respect for you and your people", he sternly advised. "What do you need of us, Chief Rogash?".

@ambrosius: I'ma post soon with Zaniel and attack, you cool with it?

@zaniel: Sure, no worries son.

@_superstar_: hahah I lol'd!

@ambrosius: Awesome! I'll have a post up within an hour ish ^_^

@zaniel: Bueno, bueno.

@_superstar_: LOL..

Time to get Urgarox and his raiders here........ Or just offer an alliance...... Or just let it be lmao

@zaniel: The city has no walls, nor a gate :P

Have your army appear somewhere near the city but not at it, so that I can try and prevent the attack.

@la_espada: Fk'ing city! I'ma send a bulldozer >_>

Sure, I'll re-type in liiiike 20 minutes, just gotta do something :)

@pyrogram: LOL.

@la_espada:

The cruel sun beat down upon the group of warriors, it's ebullient, golden eye unblinking within the sky with a sturdy gaze, the sky alike had joined forces with the eye, having forsaken even a whisper of a cloud to mitigate the harsh rays roasting energy. The little lizards each took shelter in the shadows and crevasses of the rocks where the sand was not hot enough to roast them alive in an instant, but some, the bigger and simply more unlucky, had no such fortunate, the decaying corpses of dead and dehydrated mammals littered the ground.

Each loud step sunk into the searing sand, the humid air was thick and hazy, each breath like drowning in larva for the hundredths time. Zaniel sighed, his head turning, peering towards his fabled band of elite warriors "The Golden Guard", they were called, Spartan's, true warriors, some of the best the globe had ever seen. Each man attired within traditional Spartan garbs, their red cloaks veiling their golden armor from the sun as a spear was held tight, garnished by the gigantic, iconic shields of Greece. A small sword clasped to belts once battled truly commenced. Zaniel, the leader, had forsaken his standard Spartan attire and instead donned a more "western" approach, his sword being a trusty Medieval Knight's sword, thinking it slightly more advantageous than the Spartan xiphos.

Quickly approaching the outer city, the sound of 24 spears repeatedly smashing upon the ground in a war-like fashion reverberated through the hot air with Zaniel at the forefront, humming an ancient Greek song, unaware the band of warriors had been spotted.

@zaniel:

Each Khanasian soldier maintained three to four horses. Their strategically motivated insistence on changing horses enabled them to travel at high speeds for an extended period of time without exhausting their stallions. And with their conditioned ability to live off the land and off their own animals rendered them capable of covering hundreds upon hundreds of kilometers per day. With this ability, the Khanasian Army knew no rival, no peer in the art of gathering intelligence, of scouting their terrain as well as the terrain of others. And it was during these practices that a unit spotted them, a small army of twenty four marching towards their sun-baked city, Khan. No army marches with the brotherhood and peace in mind. Anticipating an attack, the unit returned, facilitating their legendary preparation and readiness for war.

Though their entire army numbered in the thousands, only forty were sent to engage the opposing army of twenty four. Led by their commander, their Haffajee, forty of the Khan Army rode on their war horses, relying on their knowledge of their adversary's location, their superior understanding of the terrain, and their unbeaten war tactics. With tied tree branches and leaves behind their horses, a thick dust storm consumed the atmosphere, limiting visibility for the enemy force while simultaneously using the deceptive qualities of the dust storm to make the Khan Army appear larger than they actually are as they emerged from the left and right of a large hill that had previously concealed them, the employed tactic designed to psychologically break, to discourage the opposing army from engaging a seemingly much larger force.

Their enemy was a mobile, and compact force. Guiding his army, Ambrosius the Hadera Tiger of the Great East instructed his army to split into three units of ten, each tasked with surprising and outflanking the smaller army force, done so in order to have the Khanasian Army seem to emerge from nothingness, to cultivate the illusion that there were more of them on the battlefield than there actually were. Encircling the opposing army from a distance, cutting off escape routes while overwhelming the enemy from all sides, hoping to force them into regressing into a highly compact, dense square or phalanx style formation, ironically the Spartans' favored formation, one that if the opposing army used as intended by the Khan Army, would render them vulnerable to the hail of poison tipped, supernaturally fortified steel arrows from all sides. Should the enemy instead break formation by spreading out and seeking cover, they would be rendered exponentially vulnerable to the charges of the ten lancers.

Should they be significantly weakened by the assault of the arrows, the order would be given, instructing the lancers to commence their charge and aggrandize the slaughter. Atop his horse, Ambrosius' predatory gaze rested on their enemy, his left fist smashing against his left pectoral muscle. "OOOOWWHAAAAA!", the Great East Tiger's resolute, warlike voice screaming his wild, primal battle-cry with unrelenting fury.

@ambrosius: You went HAM lol

@zaniel: Thanks ;)

@ambrosius:

The customs of the Khanasians, though foreign, were not entirely different from those Rogash already knew. He reached forward with a elephantine hand, swallowing the bejeweled grip of the intricately detailed royal weapon with his thick fingers. This would be the closest to a handshake Ambrosius would ever offer, for physical contact between warriors in Khan usually led to impromptu fights. Or, at least, that is what Rogash assumed, due to a similar ritual performed in some Orc tribes.

Rogash nodded his head as the warlord began to speak again, allowing ample silence from his enormous stature for Ambrosius to sheath his blade and partake in an agreement. Now came the terms of the alliance, something the chief of the Bloodstompers had no happiness about.

"I will not lie to you. The Orcs are divided. Ever since we were freed from Fargate, we have been spurned by those who escaped before us. Before..." he trailed off.

Swallowing pride was never the strong trait of any Orc. But Rogash would rather bear those wounds than to abandon his people, especially now when he had the perfect chance to save them. He grabbed a handful of the ratty cloth hiding his frame from the intense sunlight. Casting it away, he revealed a body forged in war, scarred from top to bottom, and strapped in leather and steel. Yet, the combination allowing for maximum mobility in the jungles while still offering suitable protection left his torso mostly bare, his leathery green skin gleaming in the desert heat.

"This is the mark of the greatest misjudgment in Orc history. Those who were guided from disaster in ancient times to Skellbrieg were spared this fate, but the forefathers left behind partook of a pact with the Dark Horde and consumed demon blood for greater power. Little did they know that it cost them their souls and those of their children, their children, and so on, until this very day. We with this green skin holding our bodies together,"

Rogash slapped his pectoral with an open hand.

"We are damned from the day we are born. But I aim to change that. No child, Orc or otherwise, should have to bear such weight. I had a dream, oh Great Tiger of the East, that there will be a battle in Midland between a united Orc nation and the armies of Isuldor. I stopped in the middle of the onrushing charge and looked up," he paused, knowing this probably sounded insane.

"The sky was burning. Even if this is not a prophetic vision, the Isuldorians will not tolerate a unified Orc presence. They will march against us just as they have done so for years. What I am worried about is if this were to come to pass, and the great war in Midland does become reality, then what if the sky does burst into flame? What if the Dark Horde arrives like they did in my dream? That is why I come to you, the last friendly face between Swan Island and the Ghost Desert. I do not want to make just an Orc Horde to counter it, but one singular Horde, made up of races that will actively pursue the devilry of Skellbrieg rather than just sitting around and talking about it like the Coalition. I believe that is what my dream was trying to tell me, that the Orcs cannot stand alone even if they are brought together under one banner. It wounds me to say it, but I know it's true."

@warboss:

The edge of melancholy lacing the Orc Chief's words spoke of his bruised pride, and the plight of his people. Like the Orcs, those of Khan would find relinquishing their pride a task too impossible. For what Rogash requested, Ambrosius sympathized with. Protecting and uniting his people. It was not unlike the actions of his own ancestors, those who rode from the edge of the continent to Rassul to conquer, but conquer to unite the warring tribes to erect the region, the kingdom of Khan. And though his features betrayed no discernible emotion, the Great Tiger of the East empathized. His was a people that worshiped freedom. The Orcs therefore, would be aided, assisted in their quest for freedom and unity. But an economical warlord, a fairly wise Haffajee, the Hadera Tiger would demand compensation.

"Chief Rogash, the sky will not burn. And if it does, it will burn because we of Khan will ride the tiger-dragons of our northern mountains alongside the Orcs and scorch the Dark Horde with righteous fire". Hazel eyes conveyed an impassioned aura of a warrior's fire as Ambrosius continued, "The Khanasian Army will come to your aid, Chief Rogash. Just as in the future, we will expect you to come to our aid should we need it", those were his terms, a reciprocal relationship between their respective armies. "Much has been taken from you. But there is one thing that can never be taken from a warrior, my brother", ebulliently smashing his right fist against his chest, Ambrosius roared, "Our pride!", though his declaration was primal, they were words of comfort, "Never forget that, Chief Rogash".

@ambrosius:

With a swift motion, Rogash removed something that had been strapped to his back. His highly-developed muscles, trained in the act, were blindingly quick, but it was not a hostile action that pervaded him. Instead, he held aloft a mighty war axe - Ogrechopper - and did so in such a way that Ambrosius could take it if he wanted to. Yet, this gesture echoed of the one the Haffajee demonstrated earlier.

"You have my word. The Horde should share trials, not face them alone. That is the mark of a true alliance,"

Flipping the massive limb-hacker upside down, he placed the broad top upon the ground and both hands on the opposing end of the polearm, finding peace in the posture.

"Something else concerns me. In the north, beyond the Dragonmaw Barricade, rumors persist of the Panden trying to conceal something. I've heard idle chitchat about a war brewing there. What do you know of this?"

@ambrosius:

Twenty four Spartan's, led by the incautious, foolhardy Angel of Luck. Some would have deemed this an unmitigated act of sheer stupidity. Zaniel knew better, he had luck on his side, “Sir, an approaching army!” The leading officer enthusiastically alerted, his lust driven eyes peering into the distance as the ominous sight of the gigantic dust storm consumed the distant view. A psychologically sound tactic which may have struck terror into the hearts of even the most determined attacker, but Spartans?

They felt euphoric, a natural warriors high, born and bred for battle, born to die, each and every Greek within the small squad had abandoned fear many moons ago. “Good.” The Pankration Prodigy eagerly smirked, unsheathing his silver hilted longsword which was garnished with a golden wrapping upon the cross-guard for effect, his hilt, a royally red piece of metal lined with a special material on the inside to stop the blade dulling during travel. “Get the squad…” Before the angelic being could instruct, the oncoming storm of Khanasian’s unleashed an assault which totally took the Spartan squad by momentary surprise, it’s speed and lethality was almost peerless.

Around four of the Spartan’s were instantly struck by the hail of poison tipped arrows which tore through their exposed flesh and easily turned them into dying, withering souls. Their screams may have been confused for agony, but in reality, they were for joy. Even in death, the Spartan had no fear. “…Sfaíra formation!” Although Zaniel did not fear death, he enjoyed life much more. As the enemy’s hail of steel arrows continued its relentless bombardment, somehow, be it Zaniel’s passive luck playing it's part or the charm of Spartan expertise, no other men were fallen by the arrows.

Their gigantic golden shields interlocked into a formidable, almost impenetrable ball of spikes. Arrows simply bounced off of the improvised fortification as Zaniel stood in the middle due to having no shield; his third in command (as the second had been struck by an arrow) would be his eyes and ears. “Their horses and arrows are useless; no army has broken a Spartan phalanx, certainly not one of this arrangement with brute force alone” He voiced, knowing his troops knew already. “But we didn’t come here to hide…” The angel chuckled, his chuckle turning into a gigantic burst of laughter from all of the Spartan’s as their laughs even pervaded through their shields and probably slithered into the ears of their possibly bemused opponents.

“Sir, general approaching!” With uncannily fluidity, a little hole in the top of the Spartan tortoise opened, revealing a single figure who was brandishing a spear, held up by his fellow warrior, the Spartan’s right arm was drawn back, his chest turned and his brown eyes astute, pelting the spear forwards like a bullet, aiming for Ambrosius’s chest as the predatory man charged with his barbaric, yet impressive army.

@warboss:

Meeting Rogash's reciprocal gesture with a respectful, taciturn inclination of the head, the Hadera Tiger made no attempt at seizing his ally's tersely offered weapon. Instead, he responded with a noble proclamation, his words conveying a warrior's honor, "We are shield brothers now, Chief Rogash. I will not seize your weapon". Touching on the Malachite Mammoth's inquiry regarding the whispered rumors of Dragonmaw Barricade, a partially grim expression bedecked Ambrosius' gruff, bearded features. "There are whispers of war. Dark, damnable events taking place beyond Dragonmaw Barricade. I had sent a unit of my army to scout the area and report back to me. This was two weeks ago. They never returned".

Revealing his suspicions, Ambrosius continued, "Surely something has taken or killed them. My men know these lands, their horses know these lands. Were they not stopped, they would have returned. Something is there, brother. I suggest that we ride there tomorrow".

@zaniel:

The phalanx formation, as expected. The Spartans as a military force were fearless, among the most intimidating in world history, though their reputation came not from an undisputed comprehension of military tactics and the intricacies of warfare, it came from their unrelenting ferocity, lust for battle, discipline, and unrivaled hardiness. The Heracles of the military world. Though the Heracles of the military world would now fall to the eastern Athena of the military world, just as the Spartans fell against the Athenian force in the Battle of Lechaeum. Encircled, with no escape routes possible, their opposition had instinctively resorted to the phalanx formation, sturdy and defensively competent, and theoretically impenetrable. But it's weaknesses were evident to the mind of a brilliant military commander, to the mind of Ambrosius, Tiger of the Great East.

Though a powerful defense, the phalanx as a formation was at it's most vulnerable when engaged against an enemy force boasting lighter, more flexible troops, particularly when without similar troops of their own for support, which the Khan Army's present enemy did not have. And just as the Athenians had done so to defeat the Spartan Phalanx, the Khan Army's considerable portion of light missile troops was put into action. Peerless soldiers on horseback, and instructed by the Khan Tiger, they employed a hailstorm of javelins and arrows, all of them supernaturally fortified with sharpened, poisoned steel tips. And though in their initial wave of attack against the Spartan, arrows and similar projectiles failed to penetrate the opposing shields, this would not be eternal. For like the Athenians against the Spartans, the Khan Army's javelins and arrows would soon wear the Spartans down with repeated attacks, causing disarray in their ranks. The only difference between the Khan forces and the Athenians? The Khanasians had better weapons.

While twenty of the Khan soldiers peppered and bombarded the reduced number of Spartans, twenty more from the forty repositioned themselves to target the Spartans where their phalanx was most vulnerable, from its flanks and the rear where traditionally, light cavalry and mobile infantry provided protection. Targeting the Spartan phalanx's flanks and rear with javelins and arrows, the projectiles seeking to deceptively slip in through the minuscule pockets of space in the compact formation, the purpose of the tactic was not to cause immediate casualties. It was to assault the formation with an unrelenting barrage that would gradually see it's arrows and javelins slip in from weak points, wearing down a deteriorating defense, as if to tell their enemy that the moment they opted for a phalanx formation was the moment they lost the battle. Continuously assaulting them from the flanks and rear while the other twenty attacked from angles, the Khan Army had effectively rendered it strenuously difficult for the Spartans to disengage or redeploy to face the attacks from all of the directions.

And as a solitary spear flew towards the Hadera Tiger, targeting his sculpted chest, no effort was made to dodge or evade. There was no need. Driving into his chest, tearing muscular tissue yet halting inches from his lungs, the densely packed cellular structure of the Khan Tiger afforded him formidable superhuman durability. And awarded a complimenting healing factor of highly accelerated function, his wound would soon heal. Grunting in evident pain, blood spurting graphically from his wound, a satisfied grin painted itself across Ambrosius' rough, bearded features, his free hand grabbing hold of the spear, energetically removing it from his chest. His response? Another primal war cry, "OOOOWWWHHAAAA!", this one came with it a taunting bravado, as if to mock his enemy's apparent tactical inferiority.

His posts should help me feel motivated.

@ersatz: I hope they do!

@ambrosius: I'll probs reply to the slaughter tomorrow :)

@zaniel: Is it weird that I read that in Jaime's voice? :P

The interaction actually gave me an idea. After it ends, Ambrosius will undoubtedly be curious about where Zaniel and his ninos came from. I'm going with the vibe where he doesn't know about anything outside of Skellbrieg so when he discovers that Zaniel is from another continent etc., it can create the scenario for Ambrosius to invade and try to conquer the Western World in a massive, open RPG. Good on you for indirectly setting it up ;)

@ambrosius:

"The Panden would never kill prisoners. They hardly ever take them in the first place," Rogash mused, pondering about the indigenous wildlife present in the foreboding northern countryside.

The Yokkin were always a threat, despite their seemingly frail grunts. They were secretive, too, and never allowed more than a few of their larger biological war machines out at a time in order to ignite stories. Perhaps suspicion and doubt were greater weapons to the Yokkin Empire than anything else. Then again, they had little to no use for Khanasian prisoners. The Yokkin queen of ancient times had sworn a blood feud against the Panden emperor, not any Khanasian Haffajee.

The only other possibility had to have been...

"Oh no,"

Rogash inhaled deeply and produced a shrill whistling sound that carried over most of the surrounding metropolis like a siren. Frantic barks came from down the street and a large black worg charged down the center, stopping just short of Rogash so that he may mount the saddle strapped to the creature's back. He put one foot in the stirrup and sheathed his axe into the loops responsible for idly carrying it.

"I ride now to battle or stable, but I must know right now in order to make up my mind. Have your men reported any sightings of strange activities? Evidence of black magic, human sacrifice, perhaps corpses that disappeared in the night?"

@ambrosius: How do you even know who I'm talking about!? Assumey, I bet.

@ambrosius:

You can even capture Zaniel if you want? I dunno, maybe he discovers it that way! And you're welcome XD

@zaniel: LOL. That's an idea, we'll wing it :)

@ersatz: I'm psychic ;P But no, I'm just an advocate for anything that motivates you.

@ambrosius: Awesome!

No chopping off my hand -_-

This is just going to keep getting bigger and better.

@ambrosius:

As the theatrical bombardment of steel arrows continued to chaotically lay siege to the indomitable Spartan phalanx, slowly, but surely, the subtle chinks of their united structure started to show. Cunningly fired arrows slithered into tiny gaps within the phalanx like water as each warrior gradually suffered natural fatigue whilst trying to maintain the spherical structure of spikes and steel, and like the Spartan's of Thermopylae the Golden Guard had found themselves surrounded on all sides, the chances of victory having been lost even before the fight had begun. Zaniel did not send 24 troops to invade a city of thousands; he had known he would never win this battle.

Little by little the Greek warriors valiantly held their positions, a nervous look or two was shot in the direction of Zaniel who knew the fight was lost. “I know what you’re thinking, brothers,” His commanding voice somehow prompted a subtle moral boost. “…That this idea was stupid” A few babbles of laughter were heard as the cacophony of noise outside of the spherical structure grew and grew. “And I’d happen to agree” He chuckled, clutching his Longsword with two hands.

“But as warriors of the Golden Guard, you all knew this was always your fate, we’re all banished angels brothers, Spartans and warriors alike, the Golden Guard were made to die…” His golden eyes gleamed. “…Well men, seize your glory!” As his words escaped his lips, the phalanx fluidly broke away as each man smashed into the ground, instantly, the warriors at the forefront were pelleted by a copious amount of arrows, instantly dying, the second rank however, returned fire with their spears, each living Spartan (at this point, being 13) had thrown a spear at their nearest opponent as Zaniel charged, running at full speed for The Tiger of Khan whilst nimbly evading arrows, attempting to jump up, raise his silver sword and bring it down, slashing the man across the face. Any living troops would attempt to fight till the death, and engage whoever they could in a last stand.

@ambrosius:

I'll make location threads as we go on this adventure (if we do) and add them all to the main Skellbrieg one.

@zaniel:

As per the tactical superiority of the Khan Army's brand of warfare and the intimate understanding of military combat of the Hadera Tiger's generalship, the encircling, outflanking Khan soldiers peppered and bombarded the compact Spartan phalanx with a hailstorm of arrows and javelins. Targeting the formation from it's tactical vulnerable points, the rear and their flanks where no support from mobile infantry or light cavalry was supplied, Ambrosius' forces succeeded in gradually wearing their enemy down, their missile assault causing disarray as it slowly but surely slipped past the enemy's deteriorating defense, prompting them to as anticipated, break formation by spreading out. And once spread out, once no longer held together by their tight formation, the Spartans were exposed.

Commanding his soldiers to follow their incipient missile according to the situation, the Khanasian soldiers opportunistically capitalized on their enemy's reaction. And though five of the Khanasians perished from the sting of hurled spears, and five others remained injured, they continued. Having broken formation and spread out, the Spartans had rendered themselves exposed, and vulnerable to the commenced charge of fifteen lancers. This was no longer war between two armies, it had transitioned into a vicious slaughter of the Spartan Army. And as Zaniel charged forward, the Great East Tiger met him with a belittling glare of cold severity, his auroral gold eyes unwavering. There was an overt difference regarding their respective armies' tactical preferences. The Khan Army was very much unlike their Western counterparts who seemed to place enormous emphasis on personal valor.

And it exposed their leaders, just as it has exposed Zaniel to a potential death. Whereas the Khan Army, they regarded their leaders, their Haffajee as a vital tactical asset, an irreplaceable mind of peerless military prowess. And so as Zaniel leaped, Ambrosius looked on, poised and mute, his previously sustained chest wound regenerating with alarming acceleration. With the abruptness of a rogue lightning bolt, a Khanasian soldier functioned as his Haffajee's shield, allowing himself to be eviscerated by the Angel of Luck's argent blade, giving his life so that their military commander could remain their military commander. "Capture him!", Ambrosius roared, arm extended, his Sayeef's bladed tip pointing at Zaniel. With the inevitable defeat of the Spartan Army on the horizon, the Hadera Tiger would uncover his enemy's origins, and the land from which they hail will become his to conquer.

@ambrosius:

More lore after work :)

@voodoo_chief: PMed ya at Warboss, mind checking out, please?

Finishing my post as Nobody Sr., then will do Urga's one =)

@warboss:

The Orc Chief's momentary silence was telling, expressive of the innate concern welling up in both their souls. Whatever was taking place beyond Dragonmaw Barricade was something that provoked the immediate alarm of both seasoned killers. "No. All men that I have sent in that direction have never returned to me", Ambrosius answered, an earnest character to his voice, matching the stern roughness of his hardy visage. "We ride now then, Chief Rogash". Mounting his hulking, onyx stallion, the Great East Tiger met Rogash's eyes with an incendiary determination festooning their beryl-hazel hue.

@voodoo_chief: Bueno! :)

Love that username BTW.