Nestled in the heart of the known world lies the vast and diverse continent of Telurya, a land where many races live side by side, each with their own customs, cultures, and ideals. From the towering mountains of the north to the sprawling forests and plains of the south, Telurya is a place of both harmony and conflict, where ancient traditions clash with new ideas, and untold adventures await those brave enough to explore its depths.The continent is divided by two major factions:The Northerners In the frozen wilderness of the north, a proud and fierce people known only as the Northerners have made their home. These beasts, who come in all shapes and sizes—ranging from towering, muscular creatures to more nimble, wolf-like beings—are known for their connection to the harsh land that shaped them. Their society is built around survival, strength, and honor, where the bond between tribe members is unbreakable. Whether they are formidable warriors, powerful shamans, or expert hunters, the Northerners rely on their innate connection to the land and the beasts that inhabit it. They are a nomadic people, their clans spread across the tundra and mountains, always on the move, always adapting. While their ways may seem primitive to outsiders, they hold a deep respect for nature and the spirits that govern the land.The Southerners In stark contrast, the Southerners represent the more traditional races of the world—humans, elves, dwarves, and halflings. These civilizations have flourished in the more temperate and fertile lands of the south, where agriculture, trade, and magical innovation thrive. The Southerners are known for their advanced cities, rich cultures, and often complex politics. While humans are the most numerous of the southern races, the elves and dwarves maintain ancient traditions, and the halflings are known for their charm and hospitality. The Southerners value knowledge, diplomacy, and the arts, and their societies are governed by a mixture of monarchy, council, and merchant influence. Though they live in relative peace, the competition for power between these races is fierce, and not all is as harmonious as it may seem.The balance between these two factions has been a fragile one, and as tensions rise, the future of Telurya hangs in the balance. Will the Northerners push southward, bringing their savage strength to bear? Or will the Southerners find a way to coexist with the beastly tribes, or perhaps even unite against a greater threat?Select a faction, a theme appropriate race and a biome. If you so desire, point out in the map where you want to start out.
>>6149443>Norf>Ogres>Swamp
NorthWolfmenSwamp
>>6149443>North>Ogres>Mountains
>>6149443SouthHumans Mediterranean Climate
>>6149443NorthOrcTaiga
>>6149537>>6149581>>6149590>>6149612You are the ogres of Zukala, towering brutes of legend, ruling an ancient, mist-shrouded swamp on the borderlands of human territories. For centuries, your kind has thrived in this untamed wilderness, living among other monstrous races—trolls, lizardfolk, and insectoid kethrax—in a fragile yet enduring truce. The unspoken rule is clear: you keep to your lands, they keep to theirs. Disturbances are rare, and that's how you like it.Until today.Your patrols—hulking, vigilant ogres armed with jagged clubs and makeshift armor—drag before your chieftain a small figure: an elf girl. Her delicate frame and youthful face make her look hardly older than a child. She’s draped in tattered robes, streaked with dirt and swamp muck, clutching a satchel filled with herbs.The elf’s voice quivers as she speaks, but there’s resolve beneath her fear."Please! My grandmother is sick. I need these herbs to make her a potion, or she won’t survive. I didn't mean to trespass—I didn’t even know this place belonged to anyone."The ogres rumble among themselves. One grumbles, his tusks gleaming in the pale swamp light. "She’s lying. Elves always lie."Another snorts, leaning in to sniff her. "She smells... honest. And a little scared."The chieftain narrows his eyes, his massive frame towering over the girl. His voice is a deep, gravelly rumble. "You cross into our swamp, elf, without knowing the rules? Perhaps we should teach you a lesson. What makes you think your life matters here?"The elf's hands tremble, but she stands her ground. "I’ll leave as soon as I have what I need. Please, I beg you. I’ll repay you however I can—just don’t let my grandmother die."The swamp seems to hold its breath, the tension hanging heavy in the humid air.> Eat the Elf: The ogres are not known for their mercy, and her flesh might serve as a reminder to others not to trespass. Yet, something about her story nags at the back of your mind. Is she telling the truth, or is this an elven trick to infiltrate your lands?> Help the Elf Find the Herbs: A sick grandmother, a desperate plea... It’s rare to hear such sincerity from an outsider. Guiding her might mean risking the ire of other creatures in the swamp, but it could also strengthen an alliance with the elves—should her story be true.> Kick the Elf Out of the Swamp: Your kind has no love for intrusions. Send her packing before she brings trouble to your doorstep. If her grandmother dies, it’s no concern of yours—better that than upsetting the fragile peace of Zukala.
>>6149443>>North>>Ogres>>Mountains
>>6150203> Kick the Elf Out of the SwampRemove Elf
>>6150203>> Help the Elf Find the Herbs: A sick grandmother, a desperate plea... It’s rare to hear such sincerity from an outsider. Guiding her might mean risking the ire of other creatures in the swamp, but it could also strengthen an alliance with the elves—should her story be true.
>>6150203>Let her find her herbs, but demand compensationOur territory, our rules. If those herb are THAT important, she should pay for it, in whatever way she can.
Rolled 1 (1d3)>>6150216 1>>6150234 2>>6150255 3
>>6150277The elf is gone, your men escorted her out. You watched as her frail figure vanished into the misty edges of your swamp, her desperate pleas now just an echo in your mind. Yet, unease lingers. Those herbs she carried—common-looking plants to your untrained eyes—had clearly drawn her deep into Zukala, risking her life for their recovery. What if there was more to them? What if their properties could be of use—or danger—to the ogres? In the flickering glow of your shaman’s fire, you voice your suspicions. The shaman, a stooped, wizened figure draped in swamp moss and adorned with carved bone talismans, listens intently, his clawed fingers tapping the haft of his ceremonial staff. "Hmph," he grunts, after a long pause. "I know little of such herbs. The ways of plants are tricky, even for me. But if you truly wish to unravel this mystery, there is... another." "Who?" you ask, leaning forward, curiosity mixing with apprehension. The shaman gestures vaguely toward the distant marshes, where the swamp grows darker and less forgiving. "The Herbmaster. An ancient ogre who has lived beyond our reach for countless seasons. They say he knows the secrets of every root, leaf, and berry in these lands." You frown. "And why does he live alone?" The shaman chuckles, a low and unsettling sound. "Because his wisdom comes with madness. He speaks to plants as if they are kin. Some say they answer him." As you weigh the idea of seeking out this enigmatic figure, a scout bursts into the shaman’s hut, his heavy breathing betraying urgency. "Chieftain!" he exclaims, pounding a fist to his chest. "A patrol of lizardmen has been sighted on our borders, near the Whispering Reeds. They rarely come this far—something must have drawn them out." The shaman squints at the scout. "Lizardmen, eh? They don’t leave their sun-drenched nests unless they’ve good reason. Could be trouble brewing." Your brow furrows. "What would they want here? The swamp has always been divided—our lands are ours, theirs are theirs." The scout shakes his head. "I don’t know, Chieftain. They moved carefully, as if searching for something." > Go Find the Herbmaster: Venture into the treacherous parts of the swamp to seek the reclusive Herbmaster. His knowledge might reveal the secrets of the elf’s herbs—and perhaps their connection to the lizardmen’s sudden appearance. But his mind is unpredictable, and the journey dangerous. > Confront the Lizardmen: Take your strongest warriors and meet the lizardmen head-on. Demand answers for their trespass. Their motives must be uncovered, but any confrontation risks breaking the tenuous peace that has held for years. > Send Scouts to Lizardmen Territory: Discretion might serve better than brute force. Send scouts into the lizardmen's territory to uncover what they are up to. But be warned: lizardmen are cunning hunters, and your scouts might not return unscathed.
>>6150282>Confront the lizardmen, while a small group seeks out the herbmaster.These herbs are peculiar, but the lizards must be met and questioned
>>6150291>SecondedAlso, What type of ogre are we?
>>6150482>Also, What type of ogre are we?warcraft ogre
>>6150291>>6150482You decide the lizardmen’s trespass must be addressed directly. A small group of your fiercest warriors accompanies you to confront the intruders while a second, quieter group is dispatched to seek the Herbmaster. The air is heavy with tension as you approach the lizardmen at the edge of your territory. Their scaled forms gleam faintly under the swamp's filtered light, their yellow eyes narrowed, spears in hand. Your presence commands attention, and the lizardmen bristle, hissing low and guttural. Their leader steps forward, muscles rippling beneath his emerald scales. “Why are you here?” you demand, pounding a massive fist against your chest. “This is ogre land, and you tread on it uninvited. Show respect, or face the consequences!” The lizardmen respond with their own chest-pounding and guttural snarls. "It is none of your business!" their leader snaps, baring sharp teeth. Your warriors growl in unison, stepping closer, the ground shaking slightly beneath their weight. A fight teeters on the edge of erupting when one of the lizardmen, a smaller but more composed figure, raises his clawed hands. “Enough!” he hisses, his voice cutting through the mounting chaos. “We shouldn’t fight amongst ourselves, not when the elves are invading.” The word elves stops everyone in their tracks. You narrow your eyes. “The elves are invading? What nonsense is this?” “They’re spies,” the lizardman continues, his tone sharp. “Elves have been trespassing into the swamp with the dumbest of excuses. They claim they’re looking for herbs, trinkets, or temples, but we know better. They’re testing us, planning something.” You snort, crossing your arms. “Planning something? I had one elf come into my territory—a child, claiming she needed herbs to make a potion for her grandmother. We sent her away. That’s hardly an invasion.” The lizardman shakes his head fervently. “See what I’m saying? That’s how it starts. It’s the same as with us. First, it was a lone elf—harmless, pathetic. Then came merchants with trinkets, charming and polite. Then adventurers with swords and excuses about lost temples. Now they think they own the place.” “If they’re such a threat, why didn’t you kill them outright?” you ask, leaning forward menacingly. “Why didn’t you kill the one that showed up for you?” the lizardman retorts, narrowing his slitted eyes.
>>6150926You hesitate. “It was just a kid. A scared kid.” He snorts, his voice rising. “Exactly! A kid, a merchant, an adventurer... they’re seeing how far they can push us. Testing our boundaries! And when we don’t push back, they’ll take more!” You shake your head, exasperated. “You’re paranoid, lizardman. Not every elf is a spy. We’ve lived in peace for years.” The lizardman slams the butt of his spear into the ground. “Peace? You’ve forgotten the past, but we haven’t. Elves are always scheming. I say we strike first before they overwhelm us!” Your brow furrows. “You want to attack the elves?” “Not yet,” the lizardman replies, his tone steadying. “First, we need to know where they’re coming from. We can’t fight what we can’t see. But we will not wait until it’s too late.” > Offer to Send Some of Your Scouts Alongside the Lizardmen: If the elves are a real threat, gathering intelligence together might strengthen your alliance. The swamp’s peace is fragile, but this could secure it. > Let the Lizardmen Pass—You Still Have to Check Those Herbs: This is not your fight. The herbs may hold secrets that could change the balance of power in the swamp. Let the lizardmen deal with their paranoia. > The Herbs Were Probably a Distraction—Send Your Own Scouts to Find the Elves: The elf’s appearance may have been more than a coincidence. If the elves are indeed probing the swamp, you need to find their source before it’s too late. > Start Preparing for War—Panic Early, the Elves Are Coming: The lizardman’s paranoia is contagious. Better to be overprepared than caught off guard. Rally your forces now and prepare for the worst. > Seek Your Old Allies, the Swamp Hags, for Counsel: The swamp hags are ancient and wise, their magic deep and unfathomable. They’ve seen countless wars and invasions. Their insight could guide your next move. > Write In
>Offer to Send Some of Your Scouts Alongside the LizardmenThe threat of an elven invasion, no matter how real, must be investigated. Sending some men to accompany the Lizardmen is a good way to show trust, which we will need regardless.
>>6150927>>6150936+1
>>6150927> Offer to Send Some of Your Scouts Alongside the Lizardmen: If the elves are a real threat, gathering intelligence together might strengthen your alliance. The swamp’s peace is fragile, but this could secure it.
how we doing, qm?
