The year is 1970, though few bother to keep track in this day and age, and they grow fewer with every passing year. Over thirty years now have gone by since the close of the Great War –that mad, decades long conflict which had left Europe a barren, poisoned wasteland and Britain scarcely in any better condition. For a time the emergency held sway, but it was crumbling from its very onset, and in short order even that last vestige of organisation was gone, as the Isles descended into the savagery and barbarism of a new Dark Age.Yet even in these bleak, dark times, there was hope. In the bombed out city of Millfield, a former MP by the name of Edgar Cromwell continued to hold onto power. Well-educated and stubborn to a fault, it was he that led this ragged band of survivors away, an exodus to a place where some fertility and health still lay in the soil: Harbrook. There they settled, established order, fought back raiders and aggressors from afar. They had a home again, and they were willing to die to keep it.A generation has passed since then. They call that place Camelot now, and it certainly evokes the image with its thick walls of dirt and mortared stone, its plate-armoured soldiers with their knives and maces. The younger folk are a superstitious lot, a people who have grown in a world of thatched little stone huts and broad fields of beans, pastures of chickens and rats. They know no doctors, only healers, have never heard of a school, but are all too happy to take on apprenticeships to pass on some level of skill. That was the world that they knew, not like old Britain in any way, yet still with its own sort of civilisation, its own hope for a better future. Thus was the society that Edgar Cromwell had helped to build.But now Edgar Cromwell is dead, passed away in his sleep. For the moment his daughter Victoria holds sway, a young woman alike her father in both appearance and stubbornness, if not regard for the old ways. Yet Victoria is young, scarcely an adult, and there remain no confirmed arrangements for succession in Camelot. Will she continue in her father's stead, bringing Camelot to ever greater heights as it moves on from the disasters of old? Or is this nothing but the beginning of the end, the death knell of civilisation's last, faded remnant?Only time will tell...---Rules:>This is pretty much the same system as 'Alternate History - Against All Odds'>You are, at all times, the current de-facto Ruler of your people.>There will be decisions after each Update.>You may only pick ONE option, unless stated otherwise.>Parenting options run parallel to the main-game and are their own separate decisions.>Status summaries may be requested at any time>Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4421810/
Frankly, Victoria could hardly believe it.Oh her father had been old, certainly –hair greyed, skin wrinkled, at least sixty years of age for sure. But he had been healthy! Well fed, still running, not at all like the walking wrecks who constituted some of Camelots elders. Yet they still lived, and now her father was dead.There had been some argument over where to bury his body. For the past decades Camelot's dead had been haphazardly buried in a space just outside the walls, with coffins when the bereaved could pay a carpenter, in bags or with nothing at all most of the time. But was such a place truly worthy of a man like what Edgar Cromwell had been? Did he not deserve to be entombed someplace better, a proper testament and monument to the man?The argument went on, and Victoria didn't much care to interrupt it. Eventually though, a compromise was decided upon, the preparations made. There was a lesser hill near to Camelot, and it was atop that that he was to be buried. Wood was increasingly scarce these days, but a boxy coffin was crafted, its surface carved with various patterns and designs. A gravestone was even made, though absentee any dates, merely his name and a brief epitaph chiselled into the stone.The funeral was the largest single gathering of people Victoria had seen in her life. Every man, woman, child from Camelot and the Harthwaiters alike was there. At the front stood she, her mother to one side, and nearby, Kingsley –her mother's cousin and the Harthwaiter leader, still imposing with his tall, broad frame, even though he had to be more than fifty by now. The rest of the sombre affair she had little memory of though, that day and the ones following it passing by in a dazed blur.Yet through all that, the same thought persisted again and again: her father was dead, and now she, Victoria Cromwell, was leader of Camelot.Frankly, Victoria could hardly believe it.---(Pick Two)Technology:>Government - Administrative AssistantsDiplomacy:>Alliance - Reaffirm Harthwaiter Ties>Politics - Confirm Succession>Politics - Personal Diplomacy>Peace - Exploration ExpeditionCulture:>Society - Fashion Style>Art - New Religious Iconography>Art - CraftsFaith:>Faith - Wise Ones>Faith - Shrines>Faith - Syncretism>Misc:>Write In
>>4451485>Alliance - Reaffirm Harthwaiter Ties>Politics - Confirm Succession
>>4451485>Alliance - Reaffirm Harthwaiter Ties>Faith - Wise Ones
>>4451504+1Time to marry a not so distant cousin
>>4451485>Alliance - Reaffirm Harthwaiter Ties>Politics - Confirm SuccessionStabilize early before improving.
>>4452006why? they are the only allies we have, we should keep them close
>>4452023The cousin part.
>>4452096the cousin part is not a problem
>>4452096it will be a distant cousin, an alliance marriage need to be with the ruling family, coincidentally it is our family.
>>4451888>>4452096>>4452111>>4452168To clarify in advance, I will say for sure that this decision will not involve marrying your cousin, whatever else happens. Social norms haven't changed that much, and we're not the royal family (The old one at least)
>>4452327to clarify, I wouldn't have a problem with a cousin but I don't wanna marry by force
Pls don't die on us OP
>>4451485>>Politics - Confirm Succession
>>4454442Not dead yet, just slightly less time on my hands than thread one. Writing the current update now.
>>4451504>>4451530>>4451840>>4451888>>4451910In the days after her father's funeral, Victoria had spent much of her time reaffirming the current state of her position. After all, she might have effectively inherited the position as far as most were concerned, but keeping it would be another matter entirely, and she needed support.Support, thankfully, would prove all too forthcoming. Edgar had been a popular figure, Camelot's leader since the very beginning, as long as a good number had been alive for. And she was his daughter, alike him not only in blood but in the way she looked, the way she acted, even the very way she spoke. She truly was alike him in all the good ways that mattered as far as most were concerned, and that was certainly more than good enough for most of the older folk, the recordkeepers and wise ones, as well as the younger generations too of course.More than that though, se knew these people. The ranks of the soldiers and constables were slowly being filled by people close to her own age –people who she had grown up with, had known well, and who she had been close to in turn. They trusted in her, saw her as a leader who they could truly connect with and understand. Edgar had been great certainly, but he had also been a relic, a part of the dead old world that no longer existed. She was a part of their world, and in that they could trust.Frankly, the more Victoria talked and met with Camelot's people, the more she realised that they weren't just accepting her succession, they were practically jubilant with it, seeing her as far better for the job than any other in the settlement right now. She had no threats to fear from these people, quite the opposite in fact. All that remained was to maintain that feeling.In the meantime, she would visit the tribe of the Harthwaiters. They too farmed rats nowadays, though a great deal of their food (And certainly almost all of their greens) came from Camelot. Like Camelot most of their dwellings were dugouts, but they more shoddy things, fashioned of sod and scrap with little much craftsmanship. Most of the older folks bore elegant blue tattoos akin to those she'd seen on her mother, but the tradition seemed to have died off in the younger generations.Kingsley was quite happy to host her, his young cousin. For a time they talked of mild platitudes, and comments, but eventually the time came to get down to business.
The ties between Camelot and the Harthwaiters, that state of alliance and trade that had come with the marriage of their parents, was one that Kingsley seemed happy to keep, for it was certainly preferable to any alternative. Still, she couldn't help but feel afterwards as though it had been made somehow weaker. The relationship that had held it together was gone, and though it remained for the time being, how long would that last? A decade? Her lifetime? But what then about her successors, her children? What would things be like then?She supposed it was best just to be thankful for the way things were right now.---Technology:>Government - Administrative AssistantsDiplomacy:>Peace - Exploration ExpeditionCulture:>Society - Fashion Style>Art - New Religious Iconography>Art - CraftsFaith:>Faith - Wise Ones>Faith - Shrines>Faith - SyncretismMisc:>Write In
>>4455018>Faith - Wise Ones
>>4455018>>Government - Administrative AssistantsAdmin is a lot to handle, man.
>>4455018>>Peace - Exploration Expedition
>>4455018>Peace - Exploration ExpeditionMore trading and finding ancient relics.
>>4455029>>4455076>>4455520>>4455525Victoria had heard from her father of the clergy which had once dominated people's beliefs and ideals, but she hadn't concerned her thoughts much with it –what point was there in knowing about an organisation which no longer existed, and didn't sound as though it would be much use anyhow? The closest connection she had to it was that old man of the Harthwaiters who had once been a priest apparently, and had come to Camelot to give a sermon every now and then. She had never attended, and he had died several years ago anyway.Still, those memories were enough to give her a vague sense of deja vu as she heard of the most recent trend that was going on as of late. There were several particular individuals in Camelot, most of them old, but some of them hardly more than a decade or so her senior. What unified them though was the perception of them as wise and sage folk, the kind of people who would all too often be turned to for advice. Sometimes this advice would be mundane, how to say or react to certain things, what to do, the kind of things it made complete sense to ask of someone with better judgement. Other times though (and more and more often it seemed) it was more supernatural, esoteric matters they were asked on, things surely no individual could really know, yet which they were trusted in all the same.Victoria supposed it wasn't really harmful as such –she'd even obtained advice from these wise folk herself on occasion. But still, it did strike her as noteworthy that steadily, bit by bit, these wise folk were acquiring ever more power and influence amongst those who consulted them, whilst at the very same time growing more invested in matters of the superstitious and esoteric. Many had even begun to enhance their garb with odd bits of jewellery, strange accessories and adornments that further served to mark them out from others.Odd times indeed.---Technology:>Government - Administrative AssistantsDiplomacy:>Peace - Exploration ExpeditionCulture:>Society - Fashion Style>Art - New Religious Iconography>Art - CraftsFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - Shrines>Faith - SyncretismMisc:>Write In
>>4457253>Government - Administrative Assistants
>>4457253>Government - Administrative Assistantscountermovement against these "wise"men.
>>4457253>Write Inwe need to create some trade goods, and branch out to get more trading partners.OP! what do we have available to us in terms of raw material? didn't we get some machinery as well when we repaired the tank?
>>4457305Yep, you've actually got quite a large surplus of machinery, though most of it is lying in storage right now. Your main produce right now is food (And at this point in time, that really is a valuable good), largely beans but with a certain amount of rat meat, along with smaller quantities of other produce and even chicken meat, though that last one is the rarest and most valuable of all.Otherwise in terms of raw material, most of what we have is stuff either gathered from the area outside Camelot or traded for with the Harthwaiters –stone, either rubble or the more valuable already carved blocks; wood, though the supply of that has grown smaller over the years; and scrap metal that mostly gets repurposed as building material, though it occasionally gets forged.In terms of home industries, you have them on a relatively simple level, passed on through the apprenticeship system. Your carpenters can cut slightly crude beams of wood good enough for the building of dwellings, but fine furniture is beyond them. You have builders who can create thatched roofs, mortar stone and build small dwellings, but large-scale feats of engineering are beyond you. Clothes can be repaired, recycled, sewn together, but wholly new garments aren't a thing. Old machinery and devices can be put to use, but new ones cannot be built.
>>4457271>>4457297>>4457760>>4457795Frankly, there were times when Victoria wondered how in the world her father had managed to run Camelot himself, just with the aid of his Constables and nothing more. The very act of managing everything, running an entire petty domain with just the aid of an already somewhat stretched organisation, just felt overwhelming.She needed assistants. People who could take care of recordkeeping, of organising the Constables and soldiers, of ensuring Camelot ran as smoothly as possible. For sure it would mean a little less power in her own hands, but if that meant that the domain as a whole functioned better, it was a sacrifice she was all too happy to make.As it turned out though, gathering together assistants was a task easier said than done. Those fully literate were already on the rather older side, most of them well into their 40s at the youngest. In those younger, more recent generations, the situation only grew all the worse. Plenty knew a bit of writing, a few words, letters, numbers. But those who were like her, who were fully capable of reading and writing, were far rarer. And even then, there was a difference between knowing the art of such things, and actually making for a good administrative assistant.She'd tried for a time, she truly had. But the fact was that with what she had to work with, the system was one that at best was comparatively minor in its improvements, and at worst outright damaged efficiency and good administration. Even she had to give it up eventually.---Technology:>Industry - Clothesmaking Diplomacy:>Peace - Exploration ExpeditionCulture:>Art - New Religious Iconography>Art - CraftsFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - Shrines>Faith - SyncretismMisc:>Write In
>>4458688>Peace - Exploration ExpeditionTrading possibilities.
>>4458688>Art - Crafts
>>4458688>Peace - Exploration Expedition
>>4458688>>Industry - Clothesmaking
>>4458696>>4458829For the most part, Camelot had been insular these past years. Oh they interacted plenty with the Harthwaiters for sure, scavenged outside for materials when they needed them, but that was about it. Otherwise they were ignorant of the affairs of the outside world. And with ignorance, came the potential for danger, threats of which they knew nothing at all. It was about time that something was done, an expedition prepared to find out once and for all the nature of the outside world.It was a fairly light affair all told. Equipped with enough stores of food to last them a fair while if supplemented with what they could scavenge alongside the weapons to defend themselves if needed, these intrepid adventurers set out from Camelot, and would not return for some time. When they did, their tales were of quite the interesting sort indeed.Around the territories of Camelot lay an extent of "Green Country". Though nowhere near the health and fertility of that which lay inside the fortifications of Camelot, these lands were still covered in grass, inhabited by birds and smaller beasts, growing shrubs and bushes here and there, even a few small trees. Small bands of men descended from refugees roamed these parts, living off of what they could gather (Bird eggs especially). That much could be said for sure, bit little else –they were a secretive lot who avoided the explorers whenever they saw them, and those few interactions that did occur were plagued by suspicion and treachery.A grim situation, and one that would only grow grimmer yet, as the green country faded away into blasted wasteland. The War had ended decades ago, yet still the landscape remained torn and scarred. But for the occasional insect or very small animal, there was little life at all, and only the hardiest of mosses, heather and grasses grew here. Of men they saw hardly any, but for a few distant sightings.North, the landscape turned strange. It was as though the soil had been turned to stone, crags of rock covering the earth. In between and around, dead trees grew, and it was easy to see how the place might once have been a forest before all was poisoned and done away with.Northeast were the ruins of settlements from before the war, marked out by their strange, thick stone towers that rose high into the air. At first they had seemed abandoned, but a closer look revealed that there were indeed men living in these ruinous places."Men" might not be the right way to describe them, for these were foul, twisted things, monstrosities birthed of mothers poisoned by the toxins that lay in the air and earth and waters. Though they dressed in ragged old clothes, their forms were clearly not suited for them, all lanky and bloated of belly, with bodies covered in hair. Their limbs moved in ways limbs were not meant to move, as twisted as the rest of them. Yet malformed as their features were, most disturbing of all was that they were clearly, recognisably, human.
>>4459308The explorers had not dared come any closer after that.And to the far west, a large settlement lay, that one which had been visited once before already in order to collect the pieces for the tank. It was a town of vast brick chimneys and factory complexes, most built during the war effort itself. Surrounding it were old fortifications long-since abandoned shortly after the factory gears had stopped, though not before leaving the soils even more poisoned and polluted than the rest of this soured earth. A railway trailed off from it going far into the distance, though it had likely been well over thirty years since the last a train had ever been on it.There was a tribe in this town, that much was obvious even when the explorers were only viewing from a distance. Though smaller and often more twisted than the people of Camelot, they remained true men, and by the looks of things the most organised that had yet been seen. The explorers camped for a time, and saw a hunting party arrive at the town, the meat of various beasts in tow, alongside assorted other food that had been gathered in addition –meagre pickings for sure, but evidently enough to allow this group to subsist by the barest margins if nothing else.Thus were the things the explorers saw on their travels, diligently recorded in ink upon rat skin parchment. The picture it painted of the outside world wasn't a pretty one by any means, but it was knowledge nonetheless.And knowledge would always be worth something.---Technology:>Industry - ClothesmakingDiplomacy:>Peace - Contact the westerners>War - Subjugate the westernersEconomy:>Resources - Logging Expeditions>Resources - Expand AgricultureCulture:>Art - New Religious Iconography>Art - CraftsFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - Shrines>Faith - SyncretismMisc:>Write In
>>4459309>>Resources - Logging Expeditions
>>4459309>>Resources - Expand AgricultureJust thought it over. Changing to this. If the eventual goal is to contact, and trade with the westerners we must take into consideration having more to trade. If they live in more urbanized ruins of what must of been an industrial powerhouse endlessly pumping ammo and arms back during the war, that must've been a lot of pollution into the surrounding landscape. I really doubt they have much in the ways of food, and here we are, sitting atop what seems to be the best surviving farmland in the area. We could make good use of that, and trade it off to them. iirc, we've already been growing the beans for years and years, which help replenish the soil quality. If we have anything we could use to start growing another crop, we could cycle the beans out into some new farmland, and grow whatever crop we could get our hands on where the beans were, in the best soil.
>>4459309>Resources - Expand AgricultureOur main resource is our food we should really specialize in it
>>4459309>Resources - Expand Agriculture
>>4459309>Industry - Clothesmaking
>>4459309>Resources - Expand AgricultureFood surplus for trading.
>>4459347>>4459365>>4459391>>4460571For the first couple of decades of Camelot's existence, farming had taken place purely within its limits, and for good reason too –those were the most fertile and untouched lands, and with the refurbishment and expansion of the existing fortifications, the safest too. Combine such factors with the fact that they simply only had enough people to farm a certain amount of land, and it simply made sense.Recently though, it seemed to Victoria that that had begun to change. The farmable space behind Camelot's walls was large, but by now even that had all been filled up as the population steadily grew. Now, they were pushing outwards, planting fields not just within Camelot's walls, but outside them too, into the Green Country.Such ventures still remained small scale, clinging to the lands near Camelot, those who farmed upon them careful to return to the safety within its walls once night fell. And green though the land might have been, these were still lesser soils than Camelot's own, thinner and more damaged, their yields smaller and less good tasting. It was the beginnings of a process that would see farming stretch out beyond this last redoubt, but it remained only a beginning.At times though, even a beginning was enough.---Technology:>Industry - Clothesmaking>Agriculture - Crop RotationDiplomacy:>Peace - Contact the westerners>War - Subjugate the westernersEconomy:>Resources - Logging ExpeditionsCulture:>Art - New Religious Iconography>Art - CraftsFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - ShrinesMisc:>Write In
>>4460844>Art - Crafts
>>4460844>>Agriculture - Crop RotationAll in, man. How long has it been? Probably 40-50 years now? And we're not rotating crops yet? Holy FUCK
>>4460844>Agriculture - Crop RotationWe aren’t doing this! We need to fix that ASAP
>>4460857You are rotating crops, this just puts it on a much larger and organised scale combined with the expanded farmland. Basically turning it from just something that's being done to a central facet of the whole system, if that makes sense.Right now we're still closer to 30 years than 40 –at most its been a few years since Edgar died. Some of the really old folks could pin it down to the early 1970s if they bothered, but that calendar hasn't been in use for a long time now.
>>4460875Neat, thanks for clearing that up.
>>4460844>Agriculture - Crop Rotation
>>4460844>Agriculture - Crop Rotation1/3 system.
>>4460844>>Agriculture - Crop RotationI reckon we should fully sort our agriculture and then begin trading with the westerners.Also to OP, loving this quest. Keep it up.
>>4461377>>4460903>>4460869>>4460857>>4461594If there was one thing that had always remained consistent in the view of Camelot's fields from the the study of Victoria's home, it had been the long rows of beanplants that were planted, those reliable crops that had sustained their people for so long. Every now and then a field or two would be left fallow, or swapped out for some other rarer crop, but still it was the beans that were consistent.When she looked out of her window now, she saw not rows of beans planted upon those fields, but barley. And it wasn't just that either, for when she walked through Camelot, looked to the cultivated lands outside its walls, a curious picture appeared: one where beans were still the main crop cultivated, but also interspersed with potatoes, barley, or simply fields left entirely fallow and unused.Talking with some of Camelot's folk, no one singular origin for the increasingly popular rotational practise seemed to have developed, but rather it had simply grown in itself out of old practises, stories, experiences and a small degree of superstition, all pressing towards a system of one bean crop, followed by one barley, one potato and finally one fallow, before cycling back to the first again.Victoria wasn't quite certain how much she believed in this new system, but if nothing else it lent at least a little more variety to the diet, and that would always be a good thing.---Technology:>Industry - Clothesmaking>Industry - AlcoholDiplomacy:>Peace - Contact the westerners>War - Subjugate the westernersEconomy:>Resources - Logging ExpeditionsCulture:>Society - Harvest Festival>Society - Feasts>Art - CraftsFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - ShrinesRoleplay:>Private - Start RelationshipMisc:>Write In
>>4461707>Private - Start Relationshipyes, roleplay time
>>4461707>>Industry - Alcohol no brainer
>>4461707>Industry - ClothesmakingGotta stop wearing rags
>>4461993>>4462027guys the roleplaying
>>4461713>>4461993>>4462027Aight, anyone want to break this tie? If not I'll go with standard tiebreaker rules.
>>4461707>Private - Start Relationship
[This image is also a pretty good reference for how our people dress right now: old clothes from during or before the War, patched up and repaired many times over. Obviously some people, like Victoria, have clothes in a better condition than others]>>4462490>>4461713>>4462525He was an interesting fellow, that man.Victoria supposed he was her age, or close enough to it anyhow. Young for sure, and with a skinny, almost spindly seeming frame that only further accentuated his sharp features. His hair was the burning red of sunset, and his large eyes sparkled like jewels. More pretty than handsome she supposed, but eye-catching nonetheless.She'd seen him here and there in Camelot, mostly speaking to the Wise Folk. He would sit there with them for hours it would seem, deep in discussion. But what about? Was he one of those folk who could not make a single decision, so needed someone else to do it for them? Possible, yet it didn't feel right. Nor did the possibility that he had thoughts on joining the ranks of the Wise Folk himself –that she hadn't heard his name spoken seemed proof enough of that.What, then, was he doing? More importantly though, why was she so interested in the first place? She'd never been the one to exactly go crazy over handsome fellows like a few other women she knew seemed to. And this didn't feel like that either, not like some infatuation or shallow attraction in the least, like she had heard of.She supposed... well, really she supposed she just found him fascinating.Yes, fascinating. That was the right word for it. The question then that remained was a fairly simple one: how was she to grow closer to this most fascinating individual?--->Start listening to the Wise Folk alongside him. Best to seem to share his interests, so he'd find her more interesting. Who knew? Maybe she'd even discover what he found so fascinating in them.>Try the slow route, and talk to others to find out more about him. That way she'd be able to satiate her curiosity, gain a fair deal of information on him, and all things willing ensure that their interactions went as perfectly as possible.>Just walk up to him and start talking. Best case scenario he becomes just as interested in her as she in him, and it's all a walk in the park after that. And the worst case scenario? It comes to nothing, and they'll at least have interacted a little, whatever the outcome. Always the direct route.>Something else (Write in)
>>4463240>Start listening to the Wise Folk alongside him. Best to seem to share his interests, so he'd find her more interesting. Who knew? Maybe she'd even discover what he found so fascinating in them.
>>4463240>Just walk up to him and start talking. Best case scenario he becomes just as interested in her as she in him, and it's all a walk in the park after that. And the worst case scenario? It comes to nothing, and they'll at least have interacted a little, whatever the outcome. Always the direct route.
>>4463240>>Start listening to the Wise Folk alongside him. Best to seem to share his interests, so he'd find her more interesting. Who knew? Maybe she'd even discover what he found so fascinating in them.
>>4463704>>4463301>>4463249Truth be told, Victoria had never really much consulted the Wise Folk. Occasionally she might ask one for advice, but only for relatively inconsequential things. If there was one thing she certainly did not desire to do as leader, it was hand yet more of her power and influence to another individual. So, she had left them to themselves for the most part.Now however, things were different. With the amount of time she’d seen that man spending with them, there had to be some reason for it. And more to the point, by listening to them alongside him, she’d be able to grow yet closer to the fellow himself, and that could only be good.So, when she noticed him in one of his standard conversations with the Wise Folk, she started to sit in. It was a little awkward at first of course, their interactions butted in on by Camelot’s leader herself, but they were able to settle in and adapt quickly enough with it.The conversations themselves were… interesting, though that was as much to his presence (she’d learnt in the meantime that his name was Laurie) as anything else. His interactions with the Wise Folk were not ones seeking advice as it turned out, but rather insight. Such long discussions they would have, on the nature of the world around them, of what they thought might be out there, of what could exist in the greater spheres of the strange and spiritual. They exchanged old stories that they’d heard, some folklore of this new era, others seemingly passed down through the generations even before the War.And yes, they spoke of that too, or more precisely, the world that lay before. She had never taken any sort of interest in such affairs, for what was there to be had from a people who had destroyed themselves and left the world ruined in their wake? But he managed to make it interesting, with all that he talked of old wonders, of the great devices and constructions he had heard of, of what it must have been to live in those times, of all the knowledge, insight, greatness they must have had. She thought of the past as a barran graveyard, but he saw it as a lost golden age to be transformed into myths and stories for the new era.It was a perspective she had never considered before, and even now she wasn’t entirely sure how much faith she held in it. Still it was fascinating to consider, and even after his discussions with the Wise Folk were over, the two of them would still walk, and talk, and speak of all the things that were and had never been.She wasn’t really sure what she would call what they were right now. Friends? It seemed too petty a word. Lovers? Too strong. All that she could really say for certain was that they were close, and that it was good.
>>4463939Technology:>Industry - Clothesmaking>Industry - AlcoholDiplomacy:>Peace - Contact the westerners>War - Subjugate the westernersEconomy:>Resources - Logging ExpeditionsCulture:>Society - Harvest Festival>Society - Feasts>Art - CraftsFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - ShrinesMisc:>Write In
>>4463940>Faith - ShrinesOur people are something of a religious and superstitious lot so it would make sense for them to have shrines
>>4463940>>Resources - Logging ExpeditionsOak and Ash and Thorn.
>>4463940>>Peace - Contact the westernersTime to leverage our excess food in exchange for resources.
>>4463940>Faith - Shrines
>>4463955>>4464036>>4464055Victoria wasn’t sure when exactly they had begun to pop up. She’d only noticed them fairly recently, but then again it was only fairly recently that she’d had chance to visit them in the first place, on her walks with Laurie. Maybe they’d been there for years now, and she had simply never bothered to take a closer look at them. They remained much the same though.They were little buildings, scarcely greater in size than a guard-post, and often a fair bit smaller. Thin and slightly rectangular in shape, they were built much like a house, half dug into the earth and constructed out of thatch and mortared stone. Much more care and effort had clearly been put into their construction though, and inside the floors were paved, the walls smoothed out with mud plaster. Inside would be a table, a cross of the Father its centrepiece, often surrounded by lesser symbols and models, icons of the other strange spirits that inhibited and influenced this world.The reasons people came to these shrines varied. Sometimes they simply prayed, for advice, good fortune, or even simple thanks. Often they would bring offerings too to leave at the table, or under it – food, valued things, fine scavenged goods, or something else entirely, just as the Father and the spirits should want and deserve. Laurie said that he simply came here to think and ponder, a way of clearing his head of distractions that nowhere at home could provide. In that she joined him, and clearly something was rubbing off on her, for even on her own she would visit them on occasion.Apparently, people had begun to build similar such shrines inside their homes too, a private little space for the spirits and the Father, for their own lesser prayers and venerations, important to make, not so major as to disturb the space of the wayside shrines. She had even considered adding one to her own house, though that remained yet to happen. ---Technology:>Industry - Clothesmaking>Industry - AlcoholDiplomacy:>Peace - Contact the westerners>War - Subjugate the westernersEconomy:>Resources - Logging ExpeditionsCulture:>Society - Harvest Festival>Society - Feasts>Art - Crafts>Art - Spirit FiguresFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - New StoriesMisc:>Write In
>>4464556>>Industry - ClothesmakingPeople are wearing scavenged rags. It is time to change that.
>>4464556>Industry - Clothesmaking>>4464566indeed
>>4464556>Industry - ClothesmakingFlax clothes.
>>4464556>War - Subjugate the westernerscamelot empire when
>>4464556>Industry - Clothesmaking
[Note: all the coats here should be longer than they actually are in the image, I just only realised after the fact of actually drawing them]>>4464904>>4464652>>4464566>>4465029The clothes Victoria had been used to for most of her life had generally remained much the same: garments from the days of the War and before, often at least a little frayed, ragged and patched, some in better condition than others. Of course, it went without saying that as the years had gone on that overall condition had lowered, and though most of her own clothes were in about as pristine a state as could be kept, the same could not be said for others.Perhaps it was little surprise then that more and more nowadays, people were making their own garments to wear. As the fields grew larger and more diverse, flax was becoming increasingly available, and with it, linen. Of course, actually producing clothes is rather a different matter to repairing them, but they had old clothes to go off of, and it was those that they were influenced by.The most basic item in both everyday and formal wear would be a long, loose shirt, pulled over rather than wasting buttons. This shirt would then be tucked into trousers in the case of men, long skirts in the case of women, often made of thicker fabric and fastened with a belt of string. And over the top, a long coat of what was generally thick, stiff, insulating linen, sewn with large wooden buttons and outer pockets, the upper lapel high to provide protection from the weather. A more formal (and expensive) jacket would be one made out of rat-leather, its lack of pockets and greater amount of buttons making it somewhat less practical for day-to-day life, but better looking for the occasions it would be used for. Weld plants grow in the Green Country, and from them a vivid yellow dye can be produced, though again of the expense that it is more often used in formal clothing than anything else. A ribbon dyed in this colour and tied about the neck was the quickest way of indicating a more formal affair, even if one couldn’t afford any other fine coats or garments to show off.That was the general pattern anyhow, though people often augmented it with their own little flairs and accessories, when they could get them. It went without saying that these clothes weren’t as finely made as old ones, nor from as good materials, but they were a good enough replacement, especially as old clothes that weren’t in a state of patchwork raggedness grew ever rarer. Of course, Victoria still had a fair few old-style clothes in good condition, but she jumped to the new kinds anyway. Some clung to the raiments of the old world, and she had few intentions of being one of them – that world was dead now, and if Camelot was to prosper, it needed to move on.
>>4465177Technology:>Industry - AlcoholDiplomacy:>Peace - Contact the westerners>War - Subjugate the westernersEconomy:>Resources - Logging ExpeditionsCulture:>Society - Harvest Festival>Society - Feasts>Art - Spirit FiguresFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - New StoriesMisc:>Write In
>>4465178>Resources - Logging Expeditions
>>4465178>>Peace - Contact the westernersThink it's finally time. We have access to excess food which would make a good trade good. They likely have munitions there in fairly high supply. If we could trade food for weapons/ammo, we'd be in a much better position to deal with an attack.
>>4465199>>Peace - Contact the westernersI think it would be best to let the opportunity to produce alcohol pass us by given the long term negative affects. It impairs brain development, decreases productivity, impairs judgment leading to poor choices, domestic violence, etc. The fact that we can make new clothes and produce so much food already makes us valuable trade partners so there isn't much to gain by picking it. In summary, don't pick the liquid jew guys.
>>4465178>War - Subjugate the westernerscamelot empire please
>>4465199>>4465276>>4465201>>4465235Anyone feel like breaking this tie? If not I'll go with standard tiebreaker rules.
>>4465178>>Resources - Logging Expeditions
>>4465178>Resources - Logging ExpeditionsMore goods before trading
>>4465235This is your brain on prohibitionBeer/ale/wine is safe to drink automatically (if it's brewed and stored properly), unlike any random fresh water source. Not to mention, medieval-style alcohol (at least the commoner stuff) had a lot of calories in it and would be nutritionally valuable.>Industry - Alcohol
>>4465949>>4465276>>4465199>>4466889Since its founding, the wood situation in Camelot has rather changed. Back in the early days, the surrounding area was largely deforested from the War, but there were still plenty of dead trees to take advantage of, along with wood to be scavenged from wreckage, military encampments and the like. A constantly depleting resource, but plentiful for the time being.These days though, the situation is closer to the reverse. The wrecks and camps have been scavenged to their fullest, and most of the old dead trees are gone now. But new growth has begun to take place in the Green Country, hardy birches taking root as one of the only kinds of tree able to grow in this land. And though they may be comparatively small, weak, thin-looking, they are certainly growing.The growth of these trees has also led to something of a shift in how wood itself is obtained. Instead of the occasional scavenging venture when a certain supply of it happens to be needed, logging nowadays tends to take place under small, regular parties of loggers, opportunistically chopping down those older and larger trees whilst still leaving the opportunity for new growth.This new state of things has its downsides of course: there is no readily processed wood to use for construction, and that which is used is all too often of lower quality (leading to the complaints of many a builder). But at least now the supply of it is one that is actually increasing rather than constantly dwindling, and the logging parties give a regularity sure to ease the mind of any prospective builder or craftsman who might before have only been able to guess at where their next supply might come from.A shift mixed with good and bad, but with any luck, a shift which in the long run would be only helpful for Camelot.Victoria at least hoped so.---Technology:>Industry - AlcoholDiplomacy:>Peace - Contact the westerners>War - Subjugate the westernersCulture:>Society - Harvest Festival>Society - Feasts>Art - Spirit FiguresFaith:>Faith - Clergy>Faith - New StoriesMisc:>Write In
>>4468310>Peace - Contact the westernersHello there.
>>4468310>Peace - Contact the westerners
>>4468310>War - Subjugate the westernerscowards
>>4468668Can't go to war when our advantage isn't big enough. Fight africans with machine guns and not with spears.-Sun Tzu (trust me on this one.
>>4468781mate we have a literal tank
>>4468904>we have a literal tanka tank that we found in the area they're squatting in. munitions factoriessomething tells me these people are armed
>>4468310>Industry - AlcoholDon't forget guys, the brewing process and alcohol itself lend themselves to more scientific rediscoveries along the way, not to mention my points in >>4468186
>>4468357>>4468370>>4468371It had been some years now since word had first come back from the exploration party on the peoples who inhabited the old town to the west – a relatively poor and squalor ridden folk by the sound of things, but still more organised than any other group seen outside of Camelot and the Harthwaiters (though when ‘other groups’ meant the treacherous bands of the Green Country, the isolated wanderers of the Wastes and the wretched monstrosities of the northeastern settlements, that didn’t exactly say much). If they had survived that long, doubtless they persisted even now. More to the point, they persisted uncontacted by Camelot, a blind spot in its understanding. Left alone, they could easily develop into a threat, or perish altogether and leave Camelot all the more alone in the world. One way or another, as far as Victoria was concerned at least, they needed to be contacted. The question of course then was how. It seemed right for her to go herself, as leader of Camelot, a greater figure of authority and meaning than any envoy could hope to be. But there were risks in that – what if they were attacked? What if she was captured, killed even? The kind of instability that might cause for Camelot didn’t bear thinking about, nevermind the obvious consequences for herself. An envoy would have less risk, and could be better selected to give the right impression, but that approach risked potentially not being seen in as high standing by these western folk.It was a dilemma, and one she needed to sort out. But which to choose?--->Represent Camelot herself in the diplomatic journey>Send an envoy in her place for the diplomatic journey
>>4471856>>Represent Camelot herself in the diplomatic journey
>>4471856>Represent Camelot herself in the diplomatic journey
>>4471856>Send an envoy in her place for the diplomatic journeyWe're far above them, they need to know we're superior. Sending an envoy accomplishes that. Think about the modern world, does Xi go visit random African nations? No, he sends an envoy.
>>4471856>>Send an envoy in her place for the diplomatic journeyIf they want the food, they've got to respect us.
Update coming tomorrow, and I should be more active on the weekend (its been a busy week for me)
>>4471860>>4472016In the end, Victoria chose to represent Camelot herself. More risky it may have been, but the benefits were worth it, and she was bringing several of Camelot’s warriors with her, armoured in good body-armour, armed with good daggers and hand-maces, as well as pistols for show (she doubted they had more than a handful of bullets between them, if the devices still worked at all). With them also came one of the members of the exploration party that had first discovered the state of the Westerners in the first place, and a fair amount of fresh produce both to sustain them on the journey and to potentially serve as a trade good.Briefly, she had considered using the tank for the journey, but put that notion aside for the time being – too much risk of being seen as a hostile gesture if nothing else, not to mention just how noticeable it would be.And so, they set off, travelling on what would be the furthest she had been from Camelot in her life. From it’s fortifications, they walked through patch after patch of fields, some beans, some wheat or potatoes, others simply left fallow. Farming had expanded a considerable amount into the surrounding area, but it still didn’t feel like very long before the fields grew increasingly sparse, until they faded away entirely into the Green Country, more desolate than closer areas, but still with grass, shrubs, even a few scattered clusters of birches here and there.A few times they saw small groups in the distance, but they kept their distance. The folk who lived here in the Green Country were treacherous and untrustworthy, but they certainly weren’t stupid. They knew better than to attack a group well armed and armoured as they – best to safe that for easier targets.As they continued to travel, the Green Country faded, giving way to sparse wastelands even now still struggling to recover. There was some life to be found: hardy grasses, patches of heath and heather; but patches was all that they were, and even they struggled to grow in the blasted soil. There were no men to be seen here, though every now and again they ran across signs of old footprints and hunts.In the later hours of the day, the landscape changed once again. Even the heath and tough grasses failed here, the earth poisoned and soured by old activity. Fortifications from the war persisted, though they looked to have mostly been looted by now. And there, in the distance stood the old town itself, its myriad chimneys rising high into the air, factories and brick structures clearly silhouetted against the sky, though they were much fallen into ruin. If she squinted she could even see where the rails snaked their way across the scorched horizon. She didn’t know how much she believed in her father’s tales of great London with its millions of inhabitants, but this place looked like it could easily have housed thousands in its heyday.
>>4476474Still housed at least a few people it seemed. On reaching the town’s outer boundaries they came to a stop – better to allow themselves to be noticed in the people’s own time than to cause any kind of misunderstanding. It didn’t take long for them to be seen though, and soon a figure approached them, wary seeming as he glanced at the soldiers accompanying Victoria. Still, her explanation of their intentions to set up some sort of diplomatic contact with their people seemed honest enough to him, especially when he saw the food they carried alongside them – his eyes practically popped at that. And so, soon they found themselves being led through the remnants of this town, apparently to meet with its leaders.For all Victoria’s disdain for the people of old who had plunged the world into its current state, she couldn’t deny that the vast warehouses and factory-complexes of soot-stained brick and concrete were impressive, even if they were crumbling and falling in on themselves. She had known proper buildings in Camelot, but here they were clustered together in long, terraced ranks, such that there hardly seemed a speck of unused or uncovered ground. She wondered what it must have been like in the old days, when it was still a proper town rather than a dilapidated camp for a tribe of squatters.And the people here most certainly were a wretched lot, their clothes little more than rags, bodies stunted, emaciated, twisted in a few cases. Their prematurely aged faces were pitted with scars, sores and pockmarks, signs of a hardened and desperate life if there ever was one. Aside from that though, a considerable number had looks quite unfamiliar to her, brown skins and oddly shaped features not like those of most people she’d seen. What once must have been an office building was now the dwelling place of the town’s ruling triumvirate, cautiously introduced to the diplomatic party. Their clothes were worn yet still in better condition than most here, but each one of them was very much memorable in their own way.
>>4476479Tom was a surprisingly young individual, at the most only a little older than Victoria and quite possibly a few years younger. He held himself calmly and casually, his voice bearing a similar measuredness to it too. This wasn’t just confidence though – it seemed clear enough to her that there was thought that went into his manner, into ensuring that he gave exactly the impression he desired; whatever that may have been.Ahmed was… well he was a dwarf. The other people in this town may have been short, but he would’ve had to look up to speak to a child, though his craggy face showed well enough the years he had lived. His sentences were curt, his eyes piercing and sceptical. Frankly she was tempted almost instinctively to dislike him with the accusatory way he seemed to phrase about every sentence, but he was clearly a part of the triumvirate for a reason.And then there was Miss Hall. Most of the people here looked prematurely aged, but Miss Hall was old, surely in her eighth decade now. She would have been alive in the years before the War even began – an adult woman as it reached is most terrible points. She had survived that, and somehow in this environment she had managed to survive another forty years at that. The eldest member of the Triumvirate she may have been, but that age on its own was enough to convince Victoria to be wary around her.For all their diversity though, there was one trait the Triumvirate shared in common: intelligence. Shrewd and sharp they were, and she supposed they would have to be, to have led this tribe so far.Yet even so, as they negotiated, one thing became clear. For all that they had survived so far, there was still one thing they needed more than anything else: food. And food was something Camelot had in abundance. Even with Ahmed’s suspicion, it felt as though it took little time before the details of a trade pact were being hashed out. Yet though Camelot would be trading food with the tribe, one question remained.What would it be getting in return?---Pick Two>Scavenged Goods>Scavenged Materials>Weapons>Manpower>Loyalty (counts as two options)>Something else (write in)
>>4476483>LoyaltyIf we get them as our vassals, we could demand a yearly tribute of the other options.
>>4476535+1we're not in a big need of anything else
>>4476535+1Not really tribute, but help now and then.We give food. They become an industrious town. We trade their surplus at an honest price.
>>4476535+1Begin assimilating them peacefully
>>4476535>>4476551>>4477098>>4477118There were plenty of things Victoria considered asking at that moment. A town like this would doubtless have any number of goods that could be reused, or scrap metal, wood and brick perfect for construction and other purposes. There was even the possibility of taking on some of the tribe’s people as surplus labour. But all those ideas had but one aspect in common: they were short term, simple. She needed something more than that. What she asked of the Triumvirate wasn’t any material good, but something more meaningful, more ephemeral: loyalty. When Camelot needed their aid, they would come. When Camelot made a request of them, they would answer it. And when the interests of the greater good were in question, it would ultimately be Camelot’s that mattered, not theirs.It was a risky thing to ask, and their reaction seemed at first to prove it – not entirely shocked, but disappointed seeming nonetheless. Somehow Ahmed’s glare managed to grow even more scathing, and as the Triumvirate recessed in the room across to discuss amongst themselves, she wondered if she had not made some great mistake. Even through the thick brick walls she could hear their raised voices.It must have been some ten minutes or so before they at last returned. The discussion drew on for some time longer, but now it was mostly over specifics of the food shipments themselves. The deal of loyalty, for better or worse, was sealed. Night had fallen by the time they were done, and they spent the night in town. That night alone was enough to prove to her of the desperation of the people in this place: emaciated and sickly, surviving only off of bare and meagre pickings, if they ate at all. Even the Triumvirate themselves hadn’t exactly been in a particularly good state, now that she thought of it.Little wonder that they were willing to give up some of their independence if it meant at least something of an escape from this.The next day, she was glad to return home. To return to green fields and well-fed people, to proper clothes and men and women who had something to live for. To Laurie.To Camelot.---Technology:>Industry - AlcoholEconomy:>Trade - Export (Clothes)>Trade - Import (Scrap Material)>Trade - Import (Weapons)Culture:>Society - Harvest Festival>Society - Feasts>Art - Spirit FiguresFaith:>Faith - The New Faith>Faith - New StoriesRoleplay:>Personal - MarriageMisc:>Write In
>>4477639>Industry - AlcoholThis leads to more scientific advancements and low-strength alcohol is great for nutrition and safe hydration
>>4477639>Industry - Alcoholgonna do the rp later
>>4477639>Industry - AlcoholSSS-tier innovation.
>>4477639>Industry - Alcohol
>>4478249>>4478262>>4478267>>4478505There had always been some way to get yourself a bit tipsy in Camelot – making alcohol was costly, purchasing it even moreso, but there had always been at least a couple of people who’d made a tidy little trade from it. Not that she’d been much gone on the stuff, but she’d known plenty of people who had been. Still, the trade had mostly been on an extremely small scale, and much of it low-quality at that from what she’d heard.That was how it had used to be. But barley grain was a good deal more common these past years, and now it appeared that the beer made from it was too. The old producers who’d done it on the side were now taking up the production of the beverage full-time, and plenty more were joining them too. If you were able to make good beer, you could have a nice trade going. After all, there was always going to be a demand for it, no matter the time or season.A few times Victoria had even tried the stuff herself, and though she remained not entirely gone on alcohol, she had to admit it did taste a good deal better than the old stuff was, and a fair bit stronger to boot.There were other advantages to the drink too, especially in the winter months when food was lean. Beer might not have been as filling as bread, but it kept people going, kept them warm, and kept them at least fairly nourished to boot. And it was cleaner than water to boot, most of the time anyhow. Little wonder that such a trade in it had grown, and though she still didn’t much fancy it herself, she certainly didn’t disapprove of it.Curiously, one of these brewers, a young man from the outskirts of Camelot, chose to make his beer from potatoes instead of barley. The resulting concoction was colourless, less good-tasting and far stronger than regular alcohol, but there were still people who brought it. A few healers even used it for their own purposes in cleansing wounds, though it seemed to Victoria it would be less wasteful simply to boil water properly for the job.---Economy:>Trade - Export (Clothes)>Trade - Export (Beer)>Trade - Import (Scrap Material)>Trade - Import (Weapons)Culture:>Society - Harvest Festival>Society - Feasts>Art - Spirit FiguresFaith:>Faith - The New Faith>Faith - New StoriesRoleplay:>Personal - MarriageMisc:>Write In
>>4478603>Trade - Import (Weapons)For guarding our outer fields and to prevent raids on our increasingly valuable land.
>>4478603>Trade - Import (Weapons)
New thread starting after next update incidentally.
>>4478603>>Trade - Import (Weapons)
>>4478667>>4478802>>4480260Since the folk of the western town first made their deal of loyalty to Camelot, a considerable amount of trade had been going on. Little surprise there of course – Camelot's folk had food, and the townsfolk had many things of their own to give: building material, scrap metal, scavenged furniture, and so on. But there was one trade in particular which seemed to be taking place more and more, one which she didn't quite know whether to be pleased or alarmed by.Weapons. In the days of the War, the town must have been some sort of industrial centre, creating weapons for the old people to use in their idiotic conflict. And even decades after the war, there still remained a considerable amount to be traded off. Not just knives and clubs, but guns too, and the ammo to use them. The shift was clear to see. Where before Camelot's soldiers had a few pistols between them and a handful of ammo, now every one was armed with a gun of some manner, and the ammunition to use it. Even the common people were getting their hands on the weapons these days, though mostly those who lived on the outskirts beyond the settlement's fortifications. To see so many people armed, well-armed at that, was something of a worrying sight. What if they chose to oust her? What if this meant violence, crime, citizens killing citizens? Yet so far, this hadn't proved the case at all. Mostly, the new weapons were just used by their owners to guard their lands, go on hunting parties, and fire the occasional warning shot. Little more.Interestingly enough, it seemed that not all of the guns were simply scavenged either. Though most were the same types used in the war, she also occasionally saw those of a different kind. Made by all accounts from mere scrap, pipes and bits of old wood, these were not taken from the ruins, but made. ---Economy:>Trade - Export (Clothes)>Trade - Export (Beer)Culture:>Society - Harvest Festival>Society - Feasts>Art - Spirit FiguresFaith:>Faith - The New Faith>Faith - New StoriesRoleplay:>Personal - MarriageMisc:>Write In
>>4484533>Society - Harvest Festival
>>4484533>Personal - Marriage
>>4484533>Personal - MarriageCan't wait till we can't produce kids.
>>4484533>Trade - Export (Beer)get them addicted to our beer
>>4484533>Personal - MarriageCan't wait until we're too old. We have to teach our children everything we knew before we die.
>>4484533>>Personal - Marriage
>>4484533>Personal - MarriageAn heir to the kingdom!
Thread 3 when? Pls don't die