'Neath Dark Waters [Nameless Circle vs Fortune]

[Lich4441]

2165 AC

---

Everyone knows that stagnant waters breed problems and the like,
Such things can cause that of bacterium, viruses and swarms of pests.
Water is one that needs constant flow and movement to maintain its luster,
But the southern seas has stirred none since the defeat of Atrellya and the rot of their Deadwind vassals.

---

There lives a fisherman of Fortune, borne of sea and creaking oak wood planks. Having lived for some forty years, his childhood was rather troubled as any other at the time. He recalled demons and undead pirates roaming around the seas south of Nilhirra and the Sapphire Bay. He remembered the time when imperfects and pirate lords ravaged and pillaged the shores and the isles, but long has it been such. He lives in calm times now, times of peace within the isles, now that all had been dealt with. In the following decades, he built quite a business upon maritime goods within the Kingdom of Fortune and its former protector, the Goldlight Order of Martyr's Vigil, and cared for his own family, a smile on his face during his daily routine and scheduled hauls.

The Southern Isles were finally left untouched by the troubles of the mainland. One day, during a fishing trip just south of an old rabbit's dustbowl, a little northwest of the Mavethkar ruins, he noticed shadows stirring within the waters. As he cast a net to haul in a school, he instead pulled over a whisper into his ear. He stood still, net still in hand, his form rigid in pose to pull. His men looked at him, concerned and confused. What did he hear? Who whispered such in his ears? Auburn eyes dilated, a hint of tremble portrayed.

After a moment, he snapped out of it, but whatever spell lay upon his ears still lingered. He carried on with his usual duties, and though his men asked, he never elaborated. Finally passing by the former aenite isle that is now the Sapphire Bay and into the golden Isle of Nilhirra, his men carried crates and barrels of fish to market while he supervised. Then, in a sudden break, he harked as his mouth frothily delivered words towards those of Fortune proper - one such in tone that it would be considered in a raving mad fashion.

Such words were to be said, heralding the new message of the Nameless Circle:

.

A storm approaches the southern isles; a reckoning for the Sons of Fortune.
Too long have the isles remained idle, like a sitting duck in tranquil waters.

Though suppose we offer congratulations on your untethering from Goldlight.

...

Anyhow... enough of wordplay.

We are the nameless circle, and to put it plainly--
Our goals and ambitions eclipse your own.
A candle cannot burn forever, and we must seize the time we have. 
Thus, we lay claim to the golden isle and forge a new order.

Our last message for now?
Stand ready for our arrival, Fortune. 

.

After such, the fisherman collapsed, and all memory of since his hearing of the whispers has seemingly disappeared. He returned to his usual life the day after, or did he? Whatever the authorities of Fortune would do in such a case of ramblings within squares.

A few days later, the Kingdom would notice and hear reports of fishing and trading ships getting attacked and disappearing. One particular report would be that of some goblin leading such attacks against them within the shores and western isles, stealing of their wealth and goods.

Then... the following months, a small fleet contingent of stolen ships of varying designs; Aenite, Old Traverse and that of Fortune ships- their flags changed into that of a circle; are passing through the isles headed towards Nilhirra, and at its head, a Cambion whose ambitions know no bounds.

---

Objective:

 Depose the Sovereign and install a new King.

.

DATE : TBD

(Tre will represent the Nameless Circle and manage things in #Council for scheduling.)

[Tyata]

2165 A.C.

---

Not all silence is stagnancy.
Some waters flow where they cannot be seen.

But there will always be one to light the way.

---

Fortune's peace was one oft undisturbed. Their distance from the issues which brewed upon the Mainland kept them from being involved in most scandals, even if a few happened to reach their shores. Even then, however, most of them were taken care with grace. But there was sometimes where grace would not be enough to keep them safe. It only took a single person to prove that, often. Remaining peaceful overlong led to weakness, and weakness led to hardships. Hardships let to unsureness and fear, one which slowly began brushing cold fingers against the hearts of the populace now having grown familiar with the times in which they no longer had fear for the life of their citizens.

Life was oddly prosperous despite the silence from their people towards the general public. Rumors spread about their sudden Enarrism and activities, but other than that, the Isles remained as usual.

Shift in tones happened suddenly upon advent of one who lost his mind, however. Rather than recognizing it as a hex publicly, the Marines were ordered to restrain and have him treated by medics that his mind may properly recover from whatever had been placed upon it. Public tension could snap like a rubber-band at any moment given the situation she was placed in, and there was an honesty to the threat. Rather than allowing their ships to be stolen and pillages any further, however, a public issue was ordered to prevent ships from coming in or leaving the harbor. Paranoia could be avoided and aside from the one case of madness, they could likely keep their people safer this way.

Nonetheless, the threat hung over their isles of the group who sat over them like lingering clouds. But in response to the publicity stunt by the group, there was instead words of encouragement than warning her people to remain safe.

"Murderers claim ambition, as they always do.

Justify acts of violence with their attempts to impose 'new order'.

They're sharks that smell blood in th' water. That's all there is to 'em.

Everyone, stay in yer' seats...

It's been a while since we've shown a proper bloodbath."

Marines began preparing warships to engage at sea, met with old and new faces amongst the many flags. Yet when it came to defending the Isles, there were nobody who took their job more seriously. Old Marines, though retired from the age of Deathwind's wrath, stepped forward once again in lieu of the danger which faced their home. It was not the first, and it would never be the last...

But the next to fall.

---

Objective:
Drive off the invading forces.

Date
4/20/25

[The Iron Jaw]

2166 A.C.

---

"Let the blessing of my gifts extend beyond my cradle...
Let this expedition offer proper demonstration of their capacity wholesale."

---

Antefinem, despite being restricted by its internal trials and tribulations, upholds its role in vassalage to Fortune. A small allotment of troops is deployed with magus ilk amongst them to support the defensive effort. It is said that while the reinforcements are fickle in quantity, they bear blessings from the Patron of Antefinem itself.

Whether from pending internal conflict, projects, or otherwise, magus political leaders are not found amongst the reinforcements, with an assigned nonmagus officer making a speech in their stead:

"This is the world stage.
Our grandparents, parents, brothers and sisters have fought, and died for us to have the opportunity to stand amongst each other, to embrace liberty, and show everyone what beauty it breeds.
Let us show them all what our Freedom brings...
Let them behold the Might born of Democracy...
From the Southern Meranthean Seas, to the Battlefront.

Until The End..."

Reinforcement ships are spotted sailing in from Antefinem to fill in Fortune's ranks.

---

Objective
Support the Defensive Effort as Fortune's Vassal