The pink-faced mortal jibbered on about his petty problems. Small problems, little qualms. Things that did not deserve to pass into the ears of Jeruk, or be said in the halls of Krasa Lara. The only reason it was tolerated was that the Ti-maan was pondering greater things, and watching the mortal sweat out buckets while begging his lord for mercy was amusing to him.

For now.

Ti-maan Jeruk’s palace was a dark place – buried deep within the bosom of Krasa Lara, burning with her fury. Not quite hot enough to boil either water or men but it came close. Little men were crushed by the heat, almost as if the rock was pressing down on them where they stood. And yet, the world was overrun with little men, like this one before him.

The prospect disgusted him. Little sweaty mortals, like this tubby one. It was amusing no longer.

Krasa rumbled, and Jeruk finally realized. She was hungry, and so was Jeruk.

“Enough!” cried the Ti-maan, and at once the jibbering halted. The one word echoed through the throne, and Jeruk rose from his stone seat. He towered over the pink man, and gazed down on him with fire in his eyes.

“How dare you bring this drivel to my hall! Your troubles are meaningless, and you have wasted my time! Do you have any purpose in my court?!” roared the Ti-maan. The pig paled, and whimpered.

“You do not.” Jeruk stated with a finality. “Now you shall have one.” He said, and raised his left hand and clenched it into a fist in the air. At once, four of his spearmen came forward, and speared the pig through his knees. He cried out – arrogance! He had already polluted the chamber with his noise. Jeruk lead his spearmen out, as they carried the man by his skewered knees. He lead them to the Ascension Tunnel, and they began their ascent to the red light at the end. Jeruk had made this climb every day, and knew it would be long before the end was there. He thought on.

Not only Krasa was hungry, but he was too. Only recently had he unified the disparate tribes, as was his birthright. Their potential was wasted without him. Did they not realize that they were the sons of sharks? Did they not realize the sharks prey on fish, and do not fight each other? They forsook the ways of their ancestors, and squabbled amongst themselves. Instead of enriching themselves and their children, they destroyed each other.

Jeruk though his hunger would be sated by restoring this fallen people. After all, was it not divine duty to bring prosperity to the masses? Krasa did this. Her everlasting plume deposited ash into the fields, and made them fertile. It reminded the people to stay in line, else suffer her wrath. She was beautiful, in this way. She gave and restored, and Jeruk tried to do the same.

And yet Samar-Samar, though wide on the lagoon, was not enough. And neither was Faouk-iue or Yausauk. His ships and his spearmen were not enough. He needed more. Perhaps Krasa would give him answers, after he fed her.

Finally, they reached the precipice of the Tunnel of Ascension, and the pudgy sweaty oaf was screaming and flailing, blood having dripped down to his face from his knees. Why should he not be crying with joy? He was about to face destiny and enter the heart of his goddess.

Jeruk stared into Krasa’s burning heart. Ash and smoke and red light poured from the deep pit. Even Jeruk began to glimmer from the heat, as red light glinted off ebony skin, copper fittings, and shining sharpened teeth. Her heart was beautiful. It was beautiful every day that Jeruk stared into it. Once again, he fell in love with her.

“I commend your soul to Krasa Lara! She will feast on your being, and you will join those in her heart!” He shouted into the pit, arms wide. The Spearmen hefted the man off his skewers, and threw him into the inferno. And then, he was gone.

And answers came to Jeruk.

If you are hungry, then why not eat? sang Krasa.

Consume your foes, or taste defeat. sang Krasa.

Your strength must build and your arms made strong sang Krasa.

destroy those who do us wrong. sang Krasa

Krasa’s heart turned into a cascade of red mountains and golden waves, and a sea of bloody red. An army crossed from the south side of that sea, a burning rock man its champion. It crashed against the walls of Krasa’s heart, and let out a fierce rumble. Black ash and burning air billowed out from heart, and Jeruk let it flow through his lungs and throat. Lesser men would feel pain. Mere mortals would flee. But Jeruk loved Krasa’s kiss, and it filled him with warmth. Jeruk’s vision was obscured, but Krasa made his eyes open once more.

“Thank you, my love.” He spoke to the heart, and turned back down to descend into the tunnel. He was to summon his captains to the docks, and have his spearmen train. Those that would not fight would craft. Bigger ships, better ships, not these meager fishing vessels. Krasa Lara had told him that an army would sail from south, and Jeruk would not ignore his beloved.

Weekly focus: Military.

Science focus: Seafaring.

Culture tree: No clue lol

Also we're raising our entire army of 3800 and building 8 ships (I believe this costs 85 gold).