The ambassador was a strikingly handsome, half-naked, tall individual with bulging biceps, a thick neck and not one ounce of body fat. Truth be told, he was smaller than your average Fomorian dimwit, but would certainly be on par with most for sheer muscle. The man took one last contemptuous look at the assembly before leaving.
- Lion has spoken!
- I can't help but think those brown men aren't like us. They aren't no normal. I mean, have you seen... Ow!
Brooh, the cross-eyed goat-headed warrior, winced and closed his mouth in mid-sentence. The poor fellow was cursed with a foul breath not unlike the smell of old piss and could not speak more than three seconds before getting poked or stabbed by the guys around.
No one opened his mouth for the time it took for the air to clear a bit.
- We can't let our women see him. They might leave with that troop! I don't wish my lady to anybody, but still...
- THIS IS UNFAIR COMPETITION.
- We must seize him!
Then something happened. Frog-mouthed teenagers brought blocks of iced wine and everybody relaxed.
- YOU OVER THERE. DEAL WITH THESE BROWN MEN AND PREVENT THEM FROM DISTURBING THE PARTY!
I write these lines from the top of the castle; it is impossible to think properly on the Isle of Balor. The place becomes ever more intoxicating. The cold is only bearable when you drink the water. By then you realize it's not water anymore, but red wine with an undefinable aftertaste. Nobody seems to care. It could get dangerous, at some point. We could get poisoned. The whole country seems to be under a spell. I know I should investigate.
We are at war with a powerful empire and that is what I should think about. My assignment -the King has probably already forgotten about it, but he had a point. We can't topple Fomorian domination if we are under Machakan rule.
The good news is, we won our first battle against Machaka. I guess I just need to report the news to the bosses. Congratulations, Fir Bolg rebels: you are back into the official army roll. Now send me more good news from some faraway country where you will eventually die.
It is now early fall in the year 2. The nation now produces 807 gold; 103 rp and 21 gems/slaves a month. The Prophet did some interesting stuff a few months prior to the start of this war: he claimed the Throne of Bones (+3 undying for blessed units: always useful). The current Throne situation is as below. Ulm appears to be in full expansion mode. I have had difficulties dealing with their swarms in other games and I hope they are far away.
I am still looking for good advice about the Machaka problem.
