Paul's Kingdom
By the time you reach home it is indeed completely black out. You were lucky to make it this far through the woods without any injuries to speak of. As you open your front door, you wonder if your father or Tom are worried or angry.
They are neither. Tom is apparently already in bed, you can't hear his boisterous voice at all, and your father sits idly in front of a blaring television, watching David Letterman.
You quietly tiptoe into your room, speedily change into your pajamas, and clamber into bed. Within a quarter of an hour you're sound asleep.
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The next day you wake up refreshed and eager for a chance to finish making your kingdom. After you build a few more houses and maybe clear some space for a marketplace you can start your war against the Yuras.
As you had requested, your friends await you outside your home. Today, they are accompanied by your most trusted friend, Murgog.
"So, Paul, you've found a new place for our Kingdom?"
"Yeah," you gleefully reply. "I did! And it's a thousand times better than our present lands. So, I guess the temple you built yesterday won't really matter."
"Um yeah," Murgog coughs. "I guess I did all that work for nothing."
You smile at Murgog as you address the group. "Well boys, let's get on our way, dawdling won't get this thing built."
You and your friends follow the trail you took yesterday to return to your new lands. Everything is exactly as it had been when you left it necessary, as a part of the perfection the woods provides wind protection.
"Well people, let's get moving. Murgog, start on the temple. Q'iol, begin construction on some new houses, and Restuit, I want you on guard in case any Yuras come. Vero, come with me and we'll start on the dock for our boats."
Diligently, you all begin to work on your respective tasks. You pile some logs together in order to form a crude dock, and Vero sorts them into an order.
Work continues like this for about an hour until Restuit breaks the monotony with the magic words. "I see Yuras in the woods, my lord."
"Prepare for battle hastily," you tell your men as you ready yourself for the upcoming fight. In a blink of an eye you hold your stick at the ready.
Within moments you see the Yuras appear on the crest of a hill. Their small bodies are hard to pick out in the underbrush, but you are an experienced Yura-Killer.
There are perhaps twenty of them. Now, you could either have your men stick together and charge up the middle of the Yuras, or you could split into two groups and try to pinch the enemy.
What is your choice, oh great one?
They are neither. Tom is apparently already in bed, you can't hear his boisterous voice at all, and your father sits idly in front of a blaring television, watching David Letterman.
You quietly tiptoe into your room, speedily change into your pajamas, and clamber into bed. Within a quarter of an hour you're sound asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day you wake up refreshed and eager for a chance to finish making your kingdom. After you build a few more houses and maybe clear some space for a marketplace you can start your war against the Yuras.
As you had requested, your friends await you outside your home. Today, they are accompanied by your most trusted friend, Murgog.
"So, Paul, you've found a new place for our Kingdom?"
"Yeah," you gleefully reply. "I did! And it's a thousand times better than our present lands. So, I guess the temple you built yesterday won't really matter."
"Um yeah," Murgog coughs. "I guess I did all that work for nothing."
You smile at Murgog as you address the group. "Well boys, let's get on our way, dawdling won't get this thing built."
You and your friends follow the trail you took yesterday to return to your new lands. Everything is exactly as it had been when you left it necessary, as a part of the perfection the woods provides wind protection.
"Well people, let's get moving. Murgog, start on the temple. Q'iol, begin construction on some new houses, and Restuit, I want you on guard in case any Yuras come. Vero, come with me and we'll start on the dock for our boats."
Diligently, you all begin to work on your respective tasks. You pile some logs together in order to form a crude dock, and Vero sorts them into an order.
Work continues like this for about an hour until Restuit breaks the monotony with the magic words. "I see Yuras in the woods, my lord."
"Prepare for battle hastily," you tell your men as you ready yourself for the upcoming fight. In a blink of an eye you hold your stick at the ready.
Within moments you see the Yuras appear on the crest of a hill. Their small bodies are hard to pick out in the underbrush, but you are an experienced Yura-Killer.
There are perhaps twenty of them. Now, you could either have your men stick together and charge up the middle of the Yuras, or you could split into two groups and try to pinch the enemy.
What is your choice, oh great one?