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My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing (Rules wording ambiguous, may be intended as an action)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

Tribe of Abada-Mer raises 3 units as rebels

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to attack and occupy Region 113. There are 3 attackers and 2 defenders. The attacking leader is Abada-Mer (MIL 1). The two sides have exact technological parity.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Tactical Maneuvering 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) + 2 (Rebel)

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer would use Skirmishing Doctrine, as a 1st-system warfare culture. Casualties are calculated 1 step lower for both sides.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Battle Roll is 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) +3 (Units) + 2 (Rebel)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Establish Claim on Region 113. Roll is 2d6+2 (DIP) vs TN 12. (Fail, was 8 not 13)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Hoard Treasure

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Hoard Treasure

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing (Rules wording ambiguous, may be intended as an action)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

Tribe of Abada-Mer raises 3 units as rebels

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to attack and occupy Region 113. There are 3 attackers and 2 defenders. The attacking leader is Abada-Mer (MIL 1). The two sides have exact technological parity.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Tactical Maneuvering 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) + 2 (Rebel)

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer would use Skirmishing Doctrine, as a 1st-system warfare culture. Casualties are calculated 1 step lower for both sides.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Battle Roll is 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) +3 (Units) + 2 (Rebel)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Establish Claim on Region 113. Roll is 2d6+2 (DIP) vs TN 12. (Fail, was 8 not 13)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Seek Aid on Hoarding Treasure. Roll is 2d6+4 (Fail)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Hoard Treasure (because there are no other isolationist alternatives to building Industry). Roll is 2d6+1 (Fail)

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing (Rules wording ambiguous, may be intended as an action)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

Tribe of Abada-Mer raises 3 units as rebels

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to attack and occupy Region 113. There are 3 attackers and 2 defenders. The attacking leader is Abada-Mer (MIL 1). The two sides have exact technological parity.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Tactical Maneuvering 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) + 2 (Rebel)

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer would use Skirmishing Doctrine, as a 1st-system warfare culture. Casualties are calculated 1 step lower for both sides.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Battle Roll is 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) +3 (Units) + 2 (Rebel)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Establish Claim on Region 113. Roll is 2d6+2 (DIP) vs TN 12. (Fail, was 8 not 13)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Seek Aid on Hoarding Treasure. Roll is 2d6+4 (Fail)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Hoard Treasure (because there are no other isolationist alternatives to building Industry). Roll is 2d6+1

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing (Rules wording ambiguous, may be intended as an action)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

Tribe of Abada-Mer raises 3 units as rebels

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to attack and occupy Region 113. There are 3 attackers and 2 defenders. The attacking leader is Abada-Mer (MIL 1). The two sides have exact technological parity.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Tactical Maneuvering 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) + 2 (Rebel)

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer would use Skirmishing Doctrine, as a 1st-system warfare culture. Casualties are calculated 1 step lower for both sides.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Battle Roll is 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) +3 (Units) + 2 (Rebel)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Establish Claim on Region 113. Roll is 2d6+2 (DIP) vs TN 12. (Fail, was 8 not 13)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Seek Aid on Hoarding Treasure. Roll is 2d6+4

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Hoard Treasure (because there are no other isolationist alternatives to building Industry). Roll is 2d6+1

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing (Rules wording ambiguous, may be intended as an action)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

Tribe of Abada-Mer raises 3 units as rebels

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to attack and occupy Region 113. There are 3 attackers and 2 defenders. The attacking leader is Abada-Mer (MIL 1). The two sides have exact technological parity.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Tactical Maneuvering 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) + 2 (Rebel)

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer would use Skirmishing Doctrine, as a 1st-system warfare culture. Casualties are calculated 1 step lower for both sides.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Battle Roll is 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) +3 (Units) + 2 (Rebel)

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to Establish Claim on Region 113. Roll is 2d6+5 (DIP) + 2 (Rebel) vs TN 12

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

Tribe of Abada-Mer raises 3 units as rebels

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to attack and occupy Region 113. There are 3 attackers and 2 defenders. The attacking leader is Abada-Mer (MIL 1). The two sides have exact technological parity.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Tactical Maneuvering 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) + 2 (Rebel)

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer would use Skirmishing Doctrine, as a 1st-system warfare culture. Casualties are calculated 1 step lower for both sides.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Battle Roll is 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) +3 (Units) + 2 (Rebel)

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

Tribe of Abada-Mer raises 3 units as rebels

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to attack and occupy Region 113. There are 3 attackers and 2 defenders. The attacking leader is Abada-Mer (MIL 1). The two sides have exact technological parity.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Tactical Maneuvering 2d6+1.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer would use Skirmishing Doctrine, as a 1st-system warfare culture. Casualties are calculated 1 step lower for both sides.

(Sub-Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer Battle Roll is 2d6+1 (Cmdr MIL) +3 (Units)

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

Tribe of Abada-Mer raises 3 units as rebels

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5 (+2 partisan support)) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).

My name is Abada-Mer. My home is on the shore of the Big Lake, among the tall grasses where the wild horses are many. But I am not there now. My tribe is not so small, and we followed the wild horses where they went. But I am not with them now.

I am a traveler.

I travel because of a promise that was not kept.

Many years ago, before my mother had married into my tribe, we were visited by the Wise Sages. I have only seen the paintings of them on the rocks myself. Every night the storytellers would gather the children, myself included, to tell the stories of who we are, and how we were given wisdom by the Wise Sages.

Before, we used to know nothing. We saw our ancestors in the shapes of clouds and heard them in the sounds of the wind in the grasses. We burned bones to please them. We left milk in the hollows of sacred rocks as offerings. Our ancestors watched and protected us in death as they had in life. Or so we knew.

That day, we really saw ancestors. Not ours. The ancestors of the Wise Sages. They were beautiful, glowing beings like wind and light given form. They did not look like us because they were not our ancestors, but their shape was greatly and peaceful to look upon nonetheless. They were so wise that their speech were not understandable to us, except in the shallowest of ways. And their powers were great indeed: they could fly in the sky and walk silently through tents and neither fire nor clubs could injure them.

The Wise Sages dwelled with my tribe for some time and taught us some of the truths of the world. We learned that we have done all our ancestors wrong, and that they had not undergone the proper rituals and were not watching over us. We were enraged by this, but then we were ashamed to have been so ignorant. The Wise Sages promised to teach us the proper rituals so that our ancestors can take luminous form, like they, and truly watch over us.

Before that happened, the Wise Sages left our tribe to return to their great gathering, where all the Wise Sages of all the lands meet. That was the day that the sky turned red and borne many new stars. The Wise Sages would not tell us why this thing happened, only that they must go away on something important. They promised to return soon, so that no more of our elders would face death without ascending.

First death came for my favorite Storyteller, and the tribe grieved, but they said that this is only the most recent of many. And the Wise Sages had not returned. Many more have died since, and I have only made talk. But this year, sickness has come over my mother and I fear that she may die before the year is out. I realize that I cannot only talk. I must travel to find the promise that was not kept.

My horse and I have now been through much lands, and today we came to a high hill. On it is littered vast stones beyond counting, each of them carved with the symbols like the amulet which my mother gave me, the amulet that she said a Wise Sage gave to my father and my father gave to her. Broken bodies with shattered visages lay half-sunk among the brush and vines. Everywhere I saw etched and painted onto the rocks images of the red and broken sky, and symbols which I know not the meaning of.

I wandered among the roofless, burnt walls of houses of stones until I came to a great, stepped circle. In the center is a wooden table, whose shape I recognized from the Storyteller's description. Here was the heart that fed the Wise Sages, laying mockingly on its side. I picked it up in my hands and found it to be broken, as the promise to my tribe will remain broken.

My name is Abada-Mer, of the People by the Big Lake. The sky took away our guiding light, my people's future, and my mother. And I will make the sky pay.

=========

Faction Destroyed: The Weak Lands

New Faction: Tribe of Abada-Mer

Tribe of Abada-Mer does not hold Region 113

Tribe of Abada-Mer holds no lands and has become a Rebel Leader

Tribe of Abada-Mer generates Unrest in Region 113 by existing

(Action) Tribe of Abada-Mer attempts to raise a military unit in Region 113. Intrigue (2d6+5) vs Intrigue (2d6+5 minimum TN 12).