WPC Diplo "Gods and Heroes" [Story Thread 1 - after restart]

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While the Tracians and the Macedonians play games of border civilian stealing instead fighting with warriors, the mighty Lydus leads his immortals through the hills to clash with the enemies hiding in their city. Just after the last axeman is dying in a puddle of his own blood, the chase for slaves begins.


This is how the things must be done, you barbarians!

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Hasperas relieved from command


The king's brother Hasperas who singlehandedly started the war with the Macedonians has been relieved from his duties.


His inability to do anything consequential in Macedonian lands has angered king Teres so much,

that he also took away his title of Baron of Edonia.


"Let this good for nothing, first prove himself in combat, only then he is welcome at my table again."

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Your unique woodsman warriors have managed to outmaneuver us and now one of our cities is defenseless. If you can show mercy this can be a point to end this war end ensure peace for the next 500 years. If you kill our citizens then there never be peace between us. We will destroy you even if that means the end of our civilization too.

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Mysterious king Pi of the Macedonians,



you should know that it is not me, king Teres, who wanted this war between our peoples.

My own brother Hasperas, angered by the Macedonian demands for Borderino to be destroyed, planned and conducted this attack without my knowledge and consent.


That said, the Macedonians haven't been very peaceloving either, and at this moment we Thracians have a clear strategic opportunity to tip the balance a little more into our favour. Still I can convince my warrior chiefs to end this campaign, but then I need to show them some results.



All in all, we will sign peace if you agree to the following, reasonable, proposals:


1) acknowledge the currently established border: the Borderino - Codeax line along the river the Strimon). This border ensures you possesion of the Chalcidi peninsula.


2) sign an open borders agreement, with no trespassing of scout, militairy and naval units.


3) and sign a Non Agression Pact for 150 cycles of the meteor Ra Harmannon (ooc: 150 turns).


4) to ensure safety between our peoples we suggest you keep your spy levels high.

Knowing each others progress will help ensure understanding and with understanding may come lasting peace.



Teres I

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p stands for King Phillip the 67th.


We can not accept a treaty which last for thousands of years. 500 years sounds more reasonable. Otherwise we can agree with your terms, you can keep the worker as a trophy of your victory.

Know that if you decide to take/destroy our city our code will force us to abandon all diplomacy and not rest until you or we are destroyed.



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The head of Atreid was furious again.


"Another?! Another scouting party lost to the Athenian-Epiran wildlands?! When will these people get their own backyards in order?! I grow weary of looking into this 'outside world' the traders are always going on about. No more scouting, no more exploration. Let us sit here and grow our wheat and harvest our bountiful oceans and let those damned barbarians run roughshod over all the rest of the universe. It seems only the Peloponnese is safe, why care about the happenings of weaklings and raider-kings?"


And with that he slammed his bedroom door and the candles blew out.

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The head of Atreid was furious yet again.


"Two?! Two pirate fleets now?! Followed the Teresian merchants here? They LED the pirates to our shores? Thousands of fishermen and a ton of gold worth of infrastructure will now be lost! We must whip fresh fleets of triremes in our cities now to combat this IMPORTED THREAT. The rest of the world is so incompetent in its defenses and so is overrun with so many barbarians that they must now import them to our shores for us to deal with? The Teresians will pay a high price for this indeed..."


And with that he slammed his bedroom door and the candles were blown onto the floor, catching his fine rug on fire.

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We THRACIANS, also have solved our barbarian problem. It is just that most other states still have them, and don't cope with them.


It is not our job, as it should not be yours, to wipe all coasts between Thracia and Sparta clean of these barbarian pests.

Our lone trading vessel is fleeing towards the only beaking of order and stability on the Peleponessos.


The pirates had been waiting for us, operating within Athenian waters. We are also of the opinion that Athens should do more about the pirates.

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"So many pirates from Athenian waters, it makes one think if not the Athenians use them as a ploy to expand their influence and cripple their neighbors... When was the last time anyone saw pirates actually pirating the Athenians?"


The musings of the head of Atreid.

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"Alea jacta est"


The die is cast. Sadly there will be no peace.

Still our diplomatic channels will remain open.

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Macedonia has decided to accept the loss of her city rather than accept a peace which would leave us in unfair position. It also means that for the good of the world we shall not rest, shall not save anything, but fight till the end. We won't talk with those who kill our citizens. ever.

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Today we Thracians drink to our gods. We drink to Ares and Dionysius. The God of War and the God of Wine.

We will need no other, for fighting and drinking is all Thracian warriors do.


Today we drink upon our first battle won, although be it an easy one, it is one which costs our enemies dearly.

We have plundered and sacked the city of Dion.






Remember a Thracian heart is warmblooded.

To our friends we are true friends, to our enemies a real enemy.


Men, move like the wind and strike like a thunderstorm!

Edited by Calanthian

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Come, gather around the fireplace and I will speak of the ancient legends of our people.

Long ago, the gods walked among the first Greeks and inspired them with strength and knowledge, yet took away temperance and patience. And so the sons of Hellen became quarrelsome with each other and boastful of themselves. They would no longer compete with mirth, but fight in anger. They would no longer share their blessings, but hoard them greedily. Therefore the Greeks of the most ancient times grew divided, embittered and distrustful...But we Ionians, the sons of Ionas, now build our houses together rather than apart. And as we do so here now, work together as one tribe, one day we will unite all the Greeks to work together as one people, and our greatness shall know no bounds and no rivals.


A Royal Wedding


King Lukiyan told himself it was the duty of a king and it was the duty of a princess to sacrifice for the good of their people. But when he tried to imagine walking his beloved daughter down the temple’s isle, resplendently adorned with the accoutrements of matrimony, and handing her over to a fat greasy pervert twice her age he could taste the bile rising up in the back of his throat. He tried to convince himself the marriage was good for the people of Kusadasi, the groom, Atriyas, was after all the son of King Arzallas of Akkoy, the most powerful city in Milete aside from the capitol itself. The marriage was good for his people; it was the duty of a king to sacrifice.


Prime Minister Gulla watched his King struggle to compose himself. He could only imagine how painful the impending marriage must be to contemplate. He himself had known Princes Isidore her whole life and knew there was nothing King Lukiyan loved more than his daughters. He had known the royal family of Akkoy that whole time as well and he could honestly not think of more repellent individuals than King Arzallas and his sons. “Right now he is telling himself that kings must sacrifice for their people,” he thought “but sometimes too a prime minister must do what a King cannot.”


Gulla hailed a servant and made sure to complain just loudly enough about the quality of the wine for Atriyas, the dolt, to hear. “Is King Arzallas saving his best spirits for some other occasion?”


“I beg your pardon Effendi?” The shocked servant retorted.


King Lukiyan understood his friend’s intentions but forced himself to intervene “That’s enough Gulla.”


But Atriyas was not intelligent enough to leave it at that. He had been spoiled by the entire kingdom’s fear of his father. No one had ever confronted him, no one had ever corrected him and so he missed out on many of life’s most important lessons. The groom released the serving girl he was fondling and waddled up to the prime minister of Kusadasi. “Can the King of Kusadasi not keep his servant under control?”


King Arzallas had expected trouble, and as bothersome as it was he smiled at the crassness of the insult. The poor king must really be desperate he thought and for Arzallas nothing was as pleasing as watching his enemies suffer. Yet he also understanding all too well his offspring’s many short comings so King Arzallas glided across the room as swiftly but sedately so as not to draw undue attention to the brewing confrontation before his imbecile son’s lack of intelligence or restraint cause serious difficulty.


The apology dripped insincerely off the King’s lips “Pardon my son your highness.” But the rebuke was delivered with sinister intensity “Atriyas, were my expectations not low enough for you? Stuff your face and keep your mouth shut,” he commanded.


King Arzallas edged his son out of the way and continued with his two high ranking guests in private. “I am fully aware of your opinion of me, but this deal has been agreed and I will not allow you to hold my family hostage to a renegotiation at this late date.” Softening a bit he went on adding what, Prime Minister Gulla guessed, must have been an attempt at a friendly smile “I realize how bitter these spirits must taste majesty but ending the rivalry between our two houses will bring sweet rewards to us all in days to come. That is my promise to you and to Kusadasi.” Realizing the hopelessness of logic he changed tack, “There has been enough celebrating.” He concluded sharply, “Let us get on with the ceremony.”


At that happy moment Emperor Thrasybulus shambled up to his two most powerful lords. He placed a feeble hand on each of their shoulders, embracing them in his ubiquitous aroma of medicinal menthol, as he steadied himself. “It pleases me to see my two favorite lords putting their differences aside and joining together finally.” He croaked, “Division weakens all of us, barbarians take advantage....” But the moment of semi-clarity was fleeting and his thoughts wandered to the legends of Milete’s founding. “Legends have always said that Milete would unite one day…” the sentence trailed off into whisper as his gaze drifted toward the ceiling.


King Lukiyan made the most of the diversion; bearing the daggers fired from King Arzallas eyes he pressed the Emperor to regale the assembly with the full legend. “What a wonderful idea your majesty, would you do us the honor of recounting the tale of Ionas for us, I think it fitting prelude to this...arraignment.”


The senile Emperor was happy to oblige. And long into the evening he recounted the entire legend in his feeble whisper, losing his train of thought, mixing up the names, and regularly having to backtrack to insert important details. Eventually the minstrels tired of playing, the fires burned low, the food grew cold, the drink ran out, until finally the Emperor himself dozed off and the crowed was finally free to wander away.


Despite Arzalla’s impatience the ceremony was over and Princess Isidore would have to be allowed one more day as a citizen of Kusadasi.

Edited by 1889

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It had been a long journey through treacherous seas. Five sailors had been lost during a brutal storm that snuck up on the small diplomatic mission as it crossed the great expanse of the Unending Sea. How he had wished to be on land, to have been finished with rocking and swirling and pitching after that afternoon. How he had yet been trapped, without chance of escape, for a further five days in that tumultuous travel. Here, finally, he was in Crete. Hard, unmoving land supported his legs, and now he pressed his face to this land to kiss it, hands in front of him, begging for acceptance and giving the purest of honors to its name. He held this stance for a full minute before coming back to his feet. He looked up finally and met a smile, he smiled back. An orchestra met his ears: the daily drumming of dusk mixed with the rustling of wind through coastal trees and the chirps of birds and lizards. He relaxed as flutes and much closer drums added their own rhythm. The smile in front of him broadened and two hands appeared and motioned him to come forward.


With that Alexios III of Lelex stepped forward to meet the Minoan king. Surrounding them were a procession of the finest noblemen of Minoan society, and behind Alexios was a long trail of Peloponnesean dignitaries. Above and around this eclectic group stood the royal palace of Minos, and if he looked backwards through the crowd of Spartans, he could just make out the pinnacle of the Great Lighthouse, its location far in the distance oriented perfectly with the royal palace, such that the king could look upon it at all times of day.


Alexios did as commanded and walked forward. He then talked with the king, and after much formality began his proposal.


"With great respect and honor, we propose these terms for our eternal peace. That the great sea between us shall be our permanent boundary. That the line may be drawn at the middle point between your northwestern island and that of Cythera, with it running perpendicular to the direct line between our two capitals. We also propose a joint security force for these seas, should any pirates or unwanted third parties enter them. Why should we both create separate navies for this same common purpose?"


With that he stopped, bowed, and awaited the Minoan nobles' response.

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Lydus, King of the Kings is back in Sardis and enjoys his stay at the palace after the heavy victorious campaign.


Captured slave-girl performs the entertaining "Dance of the 1000 flits".



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Down the Aisle - Chapter 1


King Lukiyan spend the night in prayer, to the revered ancestors of the city of Kusadasi for some clever reprieve, to the gods for some desperate gambit, to the fates for deliverance, but as the sun rose on a dawn that would see his beloved daughter, Isidore, married to Prince Atriyas, the odious offspring of King Arzallas of Akkoy he knew that the heavens had failed him. He abandoned his celestial appeals to attend to his daughter. He sat beside her, holding her hand. She was steady and serious; already the laughing happy child that had always reminded him so much of her mother was gone. He doubted very much that he would be able to walk her down the aisle and hand her over to the lecherous Prince Atriyas. Instead he could just flee with his entourage back to Kusadasi and plunge their two cities and probably all of Milete into civil war.


As much as he loved his daughter it was no easy choice, for King Lukiyan knew war. It was long ago now but his memory was all too fresh. In the days when Kusadasi was new frontier settlement and barbarians were common. He lead troops often to turn back the savage hordes dressed in rough skins, wielding clubs and improvised spears. The barbarians were undisciplined but wild, vicious as animals and terrifying to imagine man at such a degraded state. These feral man-beasts had taken his captain, his heir, his only son. As much as Lukiyan loved his daughter how he could condemn so many other fathers to sacrifice their sons in a senseless war, such selfishness was the act of a coward not a king.


Suddenly the musicians were commanded to play. The guests stood automatically and a razor thin smile splintered across King Arzallas’ face. Lukiyan rose too and, clutching his daughter, began the laborious task of forcing heavy unsteady legs down the aisle. A string of drool seeped from Prince Atriyas’ lips as the young virgin floated toward his filthy clutches, he blended it neatly into his unkempt beard with a soiled sleeve then stepped off the dais to receive her.


He would never know if the revered ancestors of Kusadasi had finally conjured some clever reprieve, or bored gods desired some desperate gambit, or if the ever perfidious fates had some unknowable grand design but that is as far as the wedding got that day for King Lukiyan was beaten to the alter by a cloud of dust kicked up by galloping horses ridden by desperate soldiers just arriving from battle. They were soldiers from Kusadasi with a message for their king.


Barbarians! King Arzallas was suspicious, barbarians had not raided this deep into Miletian territory for in ages, and why now? Yes of course King Lukiyan would have to ride off and lead his men in defense of his city and Arzallas would send a detachment of his best men to ensure a swift victory and quick return to of the wedding guests to Akkoy. Lukiyan quickly assented to what seemed now a minor concession. But as he rode hard for home and impending battle he wondered what would become of his imprisoned daughter if he did not survive.

Edited by 1889

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Did you hear? The coward Thracians have sent us a message to make peace.. They should had think earlier, before they massacred an entire city. We swore that we won't accept peace until we destroy them or they us.. even if it takes million years.

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Well, men it seems the voice of reason is wasted on our neighbours.

Let us wait until it sinks in that this conflict is going nowhere.

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Sorrow! Oh, great sorrow! Lydus, King of the Kings have died in a tragic hunting accident and now drinks and feasts in the skies with the Gods.


In the forests of Lydia a Great Mausoleum was erected to accommodate the mortal remains of the Great King of the Kings Lydus, the first with this name. The Lydians will always remember what their King did for their kingdom with love. His life and deeds will be inspiration for the whole nation.




His eldest son Croesus have taken the rule of Lydia with the idea of modernizing the country and take her out of isolation.



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(OOC: the other story thread was too ambitious for me and now about 1,000 years out of date so trying a different tack.)


Milete’s Great Revival



For generations the patriarchs of Milete’s most powerful cities pursued ties with foreign neighbors while scheming against the ruling families of adjacent cities. Each family jealously guarded its own privileges while imposing their authority on their subject people. Such politics encouraged peasants and non-nobles to spread out along the craggy coastline and diverse islands of the eastern Aegean.


But as the coast filled up and room to expand became scarce these people had no where else to move and they were forced to address the question of what it meant to be Miletian. Was it just the curse of petty government by venal nobles or could it be something more meaningful.


With the governments of even the capital city focused on dynastic struggles and local intrigue Miletians could find meaning only in religion of which they had many to choose. While most patriarchs protected religious freedoms to retain the greatest amount of support, Phrynicus of Milete publicly converted to Judaism and made it the official faith of his city.


Whether the decision was pragmatic or sincere only Phrynicus will ever truly know but his investment in missionary work struck a cord with people scattered along the craggy coasts and diverse islands of the Eastern Aegean and the local dynasties of the major cities were quickly forced to concede to his authority on maters of religion and eventually on most other matters too. After several millennia of separate development Milete was finally united behind a leader who could claim superior authority. Yet his power was far from absolute for the religion that gave Phrynicus his power was the tool of an even more powerful monarch.

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"-An other city of theirs is burning.. takes longer than expected, but we will punish them as we promised..

-But why burn? Why not enslave it?

-Because probably that's what they wanted us to do.. and then use thier spies as they did many times in the past and steal our technology. We have caught dozens of their spies already, but they also managed to get our advancements several times.. soon however we will be strong enough to repel all those spies and even steal those puny technologies they might have.."



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We sympathize with your small civ, but understand the land you want to settle is rightfully ours. We banished our enemes from there only to resettle it soon. now your settlers can get there first becaue we can't move before Thracia-but if you settle there we consider it stealing and your new founded city won't survive even for one turn.

We might find a way ro avoid war and and agree on borders. Macedonia is far from being the largest civilization and we don't even want to be the biggest, but as we said that spot is our prize in the war, we will defend it.


Great Philiph

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Thracia had a long standing, good relations with Troy.


An embassy was founded, religious bonds were strong. It seemed nothing could come between us.


But now, we have been attacked, totally unprovoked, by the Trojans.






We are sure the Trojans will get drawn into a long, costly conflict.


This will give other nations an excellent opportunity to strike at their holdings, either on land, either in the Aegean Sea.

Thracia will support this as much as we can.


Map information on the Trojans can be easily acquired via the Thracian embassy.

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Titus was pleased of the news his son Hector came with. Hector has been a single guy since his childhood with only male friends, geeking at night with silly Nintenda-games (some weird game involving pushing sticks ito the ground) he was never in the company of girls. Now he came home and told his father; "hey daddy, I have a new chick !". What did he mean by "new" ? He never had one before ! Well it doesn't matter. Titus was afraid that his son was gay since he was only hanging out with guys so there would be no chance for a successor after Hector in his bloodline on the throne and perhaps time had changed for better...


Now he was waiting for Hector to introduce his new girlfriend. He wandered wat she would look like.

The door openend and there was Hector and when Titus saw the girl he was struck by lightning, such beauty he has never seen for a long time, wow !




Then she introduced herself, "I'm Anastazia" she said, "daughter of Seridur of Macedon"


Hmm... Seridur eh ? I wonder what consequenses this relationship has....


OOC: yes Thracia I attacked you totally unprovoked, Something you're very familiar with ;-)

Edited by Deztro

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OOC: yes Thracia I attacked you totally unprovoked, Something you're very familiar with ;-)



Hmm, apparantly you call Macedonian threats to take over my cities at the Macedonian <> Thracian border as "Unprovoked".

Most countries will see this differently.


(for the bureaucrats: we refer to statements #39, 40, 42 and 43)

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