>>6363365
>Tohrs, Queen of the Venks
Feverish work continues across Vencia, for it seems scarce a day goes by that news of some new impending doom arrives. Fortresses rise up, men are drilled into armies, and the college of notables works day and night devises new terrible uses for Sparkicite, the most notable of which some fear will haunt Vencia for centuries hence. These footbombs are much like the grenades that predate them, but possess much shorter fuses, and are designed to be trigged not by a pulled tab of metal, but rather a foot pressing onto a metal plate, filling the unfortunate victim with body ripping metal shrapnel. A rather brave Nachetar volunteer, after being stitched back together, confirmed that the experience was extremely painful. The prospect of a weapon that kills long after its owner has left the battlefield leaves a grim taste in many mouths, and it is not long before some are asking the question of how one manages these weapons after a battle.
As though there needed to be any more news of alarm, word arrives that the Red Wall, a living construct built by the Skrit long ago, has stirred to life, though it seems to have shifted and changed, becoming some foul amalgam not of ants but skittering crabs. What few glances can be seen beyond it reveals a hideous new nation of monsters forming, of swarms of skittering mutant crabs.

>>6363488
>Urotti
The Adamant Soldier. Their creation is an arduous task, using the most precious of materials, with no room for error. A single mistake ruins the entire process. Adamant plates must be molded and shaped to exacting parameters, powerful acids being used to purge and remove mold materials from delicate joints and interlinked parts that will never be unlinked. Even this pails however to the rune process. The blueprints and plans are exhaustively detailed, and like before even the slightest error can result in utter failure of all that comes before it. The mana collider must be used for this operation, a team of dwarven masters working in shifts with a supercharged fracture blade to delicately carve the incredibly complex runework into the form. By the end of tyrn only ten adamant golems have been created, but each one will likely outlast every nation in Pavillion. Internally powered by combinations of rare materials and a loyal Habitun Cult Shadow it moves with a deadly grace despite its utterly indestructible nature.
The exhaustive work and the slow results prompts an expansion of the collider complex, allowing two streams of magic to be channelled, doubling the ability of the collider to produce these technology death machines. The true horror of these creations is the idea of another being finding a way to control them, for nothing can damage them, and almost nothing can stop them.
On this tyrn, a debt is repaid to the Habitun Cult, one accrued by years of warfighting, lent resources, and other favors, and the form of that repayment is especially fond to the dwarves of the Urotti, for it involves the calling of their dwarven cousins from other timelines to them to aid in a grand project for the elves. The Deepening. Dwarves, a great legion of them alongside vast numbers of steel machines of remarkable complexity march through the portals of the elves, and in coordination with their cousins begin a grand migration, not of themselves but of entire cities, workshops, buildings and when possible even farms and ranches. Sparkicite is supplied to these visitors in great quantities, and with it their machines spring to life, spewing thick black clouds of smoke and soot as they begin to dig. Buildings are disassembled, relics and homes packed up, people organized on a scale never before seen. Sweeping roads down below the earth are carved with tremendous speed, then into bedrock as vast caverns are carved out. Sparkicite forges roar day and night as metal is worked and shaped and these caverns are reinforced with the finest dwarven steel, carved with runes of protection, then wiped clean of sparkicite dust. Access is highly limited, through narrow pathways and cramped tunnels. As war prepares to erupt in the world above, the elves vanish underground instead, the hard work of their dwarven kin transforming their cities into vast heavily armored bunkers, heavy steel doors waiting to slam shut and lock out the hated outside world forever.

>>6364492
>Orcmanie
The Hand-Gonne is a deceptively simple creation. It is by and large simply a small cannon, similar in design to the deadly weapons employed in the last days of the war against the Adenai. Perhaps the most difficult piece of their creation is convincing a soldier to hold the device, for they also resemble the deadly blasting charges employed to topple Adenic walls, and few soldiers have a desire to see themselves smeared against the nearest wall. Nonetheless it takes very few examples of the powerful weapon in action, shattering straw targets by the dozens to convince many to take training. While the accuracy leaves much to be desired, against massed troop formations it is far deadlier than even the work of a wizard, and be wielded by literally anyone who understands how to point it.
The brave fleets that head west to Farland are greeted not by the perpetual storm clouds surrounding the region spoken of by Vizari sailors who have made the trip but by fine weather and sunshine. As they approach the westernmost island the grim sight of a terrible ruin comes into view. It once might have been a beautiful city of high towers and grand buildings, but now it lay smashed against the ground, great pillars of rock punching up through the ruined city. High above it is a strange sight, great arcs of lightning and fire surround three figures flying about, hands making the motions of spells, faces contorted in concentration or anger, but the entire scene is almost frozen, over the course of an entire day one of the bolts of lightning seems to crawl forward but a few inches. What has happened here?
Avoiding the scene of carnage scouting vessels hurry through the region. To the southwest, in a well defended and fertile valley there are signs of the Vizari, well established, but to the northeast there is another small island, desolate but green, with a few freshwater springs. Here a small dock and settlement is constructed for future work in this land.

>>6364516
>Empire of Loluna
For all the hostilities and growing tensions between Loluna and the Habitun Cult, there has remained a steady flow of trade between them, of potions and glassware. But the time has come at last to dissolve it, to the whimpered complaints of many merchants who were making a tidy profit on the exchange.
Sparkicite field mortars are a wicked and dangerous weapon, especially in these early phases of development. There is a dangerously high chance of them exploding outright when fired, and their accuracy is lacking to say the least. But the sheer force of the weapons is equal parts terrifying and awe inspiring, a line of small scale children’s toys is produced by the end of the week, and banned by the empress after just two days of mending punctured eyes.
Such weapons may be needed very soon, for the Nachetar threat grows ever more pressing. Curfews are enacted across the lake bordering cities as monstrous kha-pike begin to slither out of the water like snakes and up the river, striking at citizens and dragging them into the water. Roc riders report seeing concerning shapes and movements beneath the surface of the lake, great clouds of silt fill the water obscuring the movements of something below. Badly affected citizens walk into the river and water of their own accord. Rats, snakes, lizards and crabs quickly become a persistent and vicious threat, small but freakishly intelligent for their size. It is a poor time for war, but with the elves refusing to allow Lolunan agents to fix the problem what else can be done?

>>6365041
>Justinian the Pious
Few are as in danger from the Nachetar as the Venks, but their god has smiled on them, for the tools to protect themselves lay in their own lands. Barzan mages enact powerful geomantic rituals to unearth a great supply of Thaumicite, which finds its way to the border of the great lake Tarn, with 2 units leaving with the Barza to aid in combating the threat at its source.
At home, the great tower rises up, a grand black tower rising high over the landscape. Connected to the cities of the land by great networks of silversteel wire it promises to be a powerful center of control over the land. There is even talk of building a great thaumic glass water turbine to draw holy power from the blessed river that is nearby, which could prove another useful source of power.

>>6365062
>The Krawl of Master Xad'nale
The sprawling hives of the Krawl continues to multiply, grow, and expand. With this expansion comes a development of new magic, a fierce command of fire gifted to them from Darkroe for the extermination of their enemies. Far to the south this fire is used well, burning out another den of the Molluscoids, but the coward’s armies had fled before the army arrives. Hopefully the walls of the Fungal Garden will be enough to protect the area.

>>6365125
>Krovian Bands
It takes all of a minute of thoughtful gazing at the flood water rushing out of the portal for a Krovian Shaman to turn to his command and ask “Shouldn’t we just turn it off?” And so with some critical advice from Krawl forces the portal is disabled, cutting off the flow of cursed water from the northern lake. Really, why hadn’t anyone else done this sooner? They can always turn it back on if for some reason they think they need to.
In preparation for the grand invasion of the elven homelands a port is built on the lake and a grand construction of ships begins to ferry the many armies across the water. A cursory check in the region for new metals is also made, though only lead ores are discovered.

>>6365440
>Kholan of Khurnaire
Talking, talking, talking. Always with the words, with the possibilities. One thinks only of purposes, what is it, what should it, who should it protect? The other thinks only of revenge, of a destiny cut short, then briefly grasped at before being cast away again, then ignored. Ignored! Them! They were to devour this world! Consume it all! And then cast into a corner and forgotten! The last one just wants more. More to devour, more to infest. Really, planting the ideas was the easy part, weaving their bodies in such a way that they meshed together, became more than the sum of their parts? Well, that was just inspired, if she can permit herself a moment of pride. The rest of the catastrophe is up to them.

>>6365506
>Kingdom of Ordalan
Recruitment numbers soar for the Spears of the Ashen Dawn as news of the Nachetar threat returning reaches Ordalan. Men and women alike take arms to defend their homeland, while tacticians consider how to manage such vast numbers.
The lands northwest of the wall of Sturnes have long lay empty, undoubtedly due to the fears of a second invasion from Adenai. But with the elven state now merely a vassal of the Orcmen the area sees a new surge of settlers, primarily of Arpian refugees who look to make a new life here, far from the troubles of Montico.
The effectiveness of the lie is mixed at best. In Sturnes and Emberglen it was accepted with little protest, of course the Baron was working with the Anelk rebels and providing key aid. South of the Sturne river however, amongst Vermillion Grave and especially in the Anelk Aerie itself a different story is told, of a man more concerned with his own glory than the freedom of his people. That the Baron was actively interrogating Anelk on the nature of the torch symbol of Montico when the great flame of freedom was lit, spotted by dozens of Anelk gawking at it as the pillar of fire rose into the sky, somewhat undermines his narrative. Fortunately such stories rarely make it as far as Emberglen and Sturnes, where the noble families of Ordalan rest.

> WIZARDS
As integration and education of the freed slaves of the new world continues they reveal to the wizards a curious new plant that they have grown and kept in secret from their captors, in little hidden valleys throughout the mountains. Thiefmark they call it, a drab grey bloom that eventually forms into thickets of seeds. These seeds carry a curious curse within them though, for they cause whatever eats them to glow with a light that the consumer themselves cannot see, the tribe uses it to brand criminals with tattoos that illuminate their body with the nature of their crimes.
The orcish fortress is repaired and rebuilt to Vizari standards, even recovering a few of their terrible steel ‘cannons’ though supplies to operate them are quite limited, and it’s unclear where the Orcs were sourcing them from.

>>6365711
> Sublime Monticco
The smell of baking bread fills the mountains. It is a happy smell, a peaceful one that promises full stomachs, long lives, and most importantly, peace. Cakes, pies, and a thousand marvelous variants of tarts flow from the fields below to the mountains on high as fields of grain are carved into the forests. It is in this time that the exchange of bread begins, an at first tentative trade of baked goods between Anelk and Arpian households that marks a shared promise between them.

> Shennigans!

> The Crimson Crab Clan Rises!
From the north, Rachni and Red ants strike in an angry biting swarm. From the west molluscoids rush the lightly defended New Krawl City (not to be confused with the New New Krawl City). With only light resistance from the walled capital to contest their movements the three monster armies take the city and meet together, where something strange and horrifying happens. Molluscoid, Rachni, and Red Skrit blend and twist together in strange and frightening ways, in defiance of biology and logic both, forming a terrible new menace, the Crimson Crab Clan. This serious new threat sets its eyes on the Krawl capital, the one true obstacle to its domination of the region.

> Stomper Madness
An elite Loluna catering ninja squad descends upon the stolen stomper, armed with the strongest of liquors, the juiciest of buffalo and kha-pike steaks and a sommelier’s wit. Their opponents within are somewhat hungover, but rally quickly at the smell of steaks, and soon a desperate battle to outfeed the krovians into a food coma begins. Inquiries as to the state of the Empress indicate that she has retired to her bookshop. At the third course the Krovians manage to cajole the ninja catering team to start drinking with them. By the tenth course the entire situation has devolved into a drunken party. Somewhere along the way a ninja remembers his job, tries to pilot the stomper, but manages to flip it onto its back instead, crushing the bookstore into splinters. Realizing with horror that he may have killed the empress he downs an entire bottle of the finest Alchemical Mind Destroying Tequilla and promptly forgets the entire affair. (The stomper will require a minor action to be flipped upright)

> Turbanic Protests
It is not an invasion, the Lords of Steel insist to the protesting Lolunan bureaucrat, who stresses over and over again, waving paperwork and documents and long lists of rules, that their actions constitute a rebellion. It is not an invasion, and if it is a rebellion, well, let the Empress declare it such then, not some clipboard wielding secretary clinging desperately to the side of the great spellbreak boar. No, this is a protest. The Empress is missing! Missing! Or possibly crushed under a stomper? The rumors are rather unclear on that matter. The empress is missing, a stomper is stolen and destroyed, or turtled (no one is quite sure what this means, but it is shouted loudly a great deal), and Loluna calls the Krovians allies? The Krovians certainly don’t refer to the Lolunans as such, seeing the empire as little more than a useful supplier of potions. Nonetheless, this is not an invasion. It is simply a declaration of discontent, a sort of civil riot. Krovia will return its stolen property, and find the missing Empress, dead or alive, and when it does the Turbans will cease their protest. It is that simple. It’s definitely not an invasion. Not a single building is burned, not a single home looted. Definitely just a protest.

> Turbanic Investigation.
The results of the Khurnaire investigation is...confusing to say the least. The trail begins far to the south, at the Sparkcite mines, where a standard invoice form is located describing the purchase of a wagon of Sparkicite by Lord Mana, except the name Lord Mana has been crossed out and instead has been written as “Lady Psuedonym of Turban-opia”. At its next stop in the turban capital the load of Sparkicite is again sold by Lord Mana, also crossed out and replaced by “Lady Psuedonym of Turban-opia”, and then bought again by Lord Mana, also crossed out, but this time replaced by “Definitely Otorso”. The Hivelord denies having done such a thing. At no point is the legibility of the crossed out Lord Mana ever impaired. The Sparkicite continues on its doomed journey, passing from Lord Mana to Lord Mana (always crossed out), acquiring various owners along the way such of “Duchess of Falsehoods of Orcmanie”, “Slick John’s Honest Kettle Car Emporium” (this appears to actually be genuine, and the cargo was hastily repurchased by “Sage Tinderbox” who then crossed out their name and replaced it with Lord Mana. “Faux-Krawl Patties Company”, “Dentures and More”, and “Finally, we’re here” which was also crossed out and replaced with “Definitely the Skrit”. The entire operation, and its coverup, is so poorly done that it seems almost intentional. The entire document itself is then covered in a shakily drawn red X, upon which is drawn in poor handwriting “Definitely a Krovian Plot”. Copies of the report (including the red X and declaration of Krovian Involvement) are distributed across the land via a number of messengers. Bizarrely this also includes the investigators conclusions, that this is either the worst coverup in the history of cover-ups, and that the Khurnaire are definitely responsible, or, and this seems highly unlikely, it is in fact the most perfect frameup of Khurnaire by the Krovians ever. The original investigator has gone missing, likely due to the resurgence of the molluscoid threat.

----End Turn 46-----

>>6366155
Action 1. Silverine Sheathe
With the Tower's bones built, now the muscles must be made. A network of Silversteel sheets and wires are added to the tower as a network, allowing magic that follows certain rules use cases to permeate and penetrate the Ebony shell of the tower in certain ways.


Action 2. Glass Spire.
Finally, Thaumic Glass is added to the center of the Tower, a massive spire of the stuff built to collect, refine, reinforce magical energy. The central beating heart of the tower that runs its length.

Missionary Action: Khurnaire is oddly insistent that Nachetar are slipping into their nation. Screen for them, and find out why they think that.

Military Action: Barzaenium's army marches towards the portal. Theodorpolis's marches with the Orcmen north. Thallopolis's army moves to Barzaenium.

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>>6366149
>Action 1: Dish Experiments With Zest
The whole world seems to be obsessed with using Sparkicite for killing, destroying, and blowing things up. Even the Venks!
Has anyone tried tasting it? Smoking a good cut of meat with the fuel and fumes? What of its potential as a seasoning?!
The Urotti will find out.

>Action 2: More soldiers
The hour of proving is nigh. Let none call the HUSE craven, nor ineffectual!

>Intrigue: Border defense
Put up cooking spits all over the Habitun, roast the most tender and aromatic cut of venison, and wait for the spies to come for a taste.
We'll share a meal, then send them back home.

>Military: Defend our cousins