>>5649214>Action 1 - Cinnabar Swords>Action 2 - Market (West of farm, where X is) and Fort by the Gate up north. >Free Action - Stables somewhere between Avor and I.>Army Movement - Both Armies to OpulithSu-won has, somehow, wrested the young man Yeong-sil away from his hooligan friends (they have graduated from mock-fighting to rowdy partying, and tales of the prince's giant friends already echo through Prospith) for a more subdued meeting between parent and child. With precious little in common, they bond over what they DO share, admiration for the smiths latest works.
Su-won admires the weapon before them for it's craft, the light-colored metal accentuated with striking crimson detail work. These are the finest of the batch so recently created, of course. The cinnabar had proved excessively difficult to work with, almost cursedly so, but the Smiths were Artists true and true, and had worked their skills to their breaking points to ensure these weapons were made.
Yeong-sil doesn't admire, so much as covet, the blade. He already can picture himself holding it, and how amazingly intimidating he will look. All he needs is a better outfit to match it, something white and striking, to inspire his friends and allies!
Speaking of friends and allies, the Khloes and Avor have been making more and more trips across the river that demarcates them, and a bustling market-town has cropped up among the fields between the two nations. Of note, the silver owed to Su-won's father is finally properly taxed and accounted for (Avor has agreed to give me 3 silver mines worth in perpetuity) and some of their impressive steeds have also been made available, an Avor-guided stable raised up to help train and equip the horse-adverse Khloes to the giant mounts.
In preparation for future possibilities, the Khlomosan armies venture north, to Opulith, where the Gate is being warded against possible incursions.
The Butcher and Madar Sahama watched a farmer set to work expanding his fields, the bright noon-day sun setting sweat on his brow and the Crimson River glimmering.
"What a fool." Said the Butcher gruffly, gripping his blade. "He is weak, I could smite him now and take his farm for myself."
"What do you know of farming, boy?" Madar Sahama spat, watching the fish swim past her baited hook.
"Nothing, mother. It is a futile task for the weak." The Butcher said as the farmer set about to move a large boulder from his planned farmland.
"Then I suppose we'll both be hungry." Madar Sahama sighed.
