Ecthelion

Merci pour tes commentaires Wilheim. J'ai passé mon temps hier soir à éditer ce bout, et je crois que maintenant c'est un peu plus réaliste, c'est plus précipité et les méchants entre dans la maison juste derrière eux. Je crois qu'il y a plus de tension (dites moi si je me trompe ). De plus, nous (bon moi, peut-être pas vous) fêtons notre 100ème message aujoud'hui. Je sors le champagne! La suite demain, j'ai déja écrit un bout, et j'ai failli pleurer à un endroit (peut-être à cause de la fatigue, mais bon). Je finis un peu plus ce soir. Ecthelion

Je vais tacher de trouver quelque chose. Un "pumkin' Jack" est un épouvantaille à tête de citroille... Ecthelion

On garde les Fétiches? Je m'occuppe de faire des Om fétiches, faut que quelqu'un s'occupe des sorts. Comme tu semble bien pati, Joub, puis-je te confier cela? Je t'explique déja mon idée pour les OM fétiches: tous servent à invoquer les esprits des anciens. Donc tous (ou presque) des objets de sort permétants d'augmenter les stats des unités, aider au lancement des sorts, ou de dissiper, augmenter le commandement etc... Je donne une liste avec les effets temporaires demain. On verra pour les points plus tard. Si quelqu'un peut me dire ce qu'il en pense des fétiches en termes de jeu. Merci. Ecthelion

Oh, tu sais, je propose des trucs comme ça, juste pour voir... Dis-moi si je mets des trucs totalement rien à voir. Merci pour la photo du veau noire, quelle horreur ce truc... Bon je te laisse à ta lecture Ecthelion

Je vous envoie encore un peu de la suite. Hunted, continued Two hundred crowns! Two hundred golden crowns! Misha was seated in front of a table upon which sat twenty stacks of coins. The amount was the largest she had ever stolen at one time. It was more than she had ever hoped to gather. I can’t wait to tell the others! We might even be able to move out of this old shack! All I have to do is pull this off two or three more times… Stephan had promised them that if they managed to put a thousand crowns aside, he would look for a small house where they could all live together, pretending to live off some rich uncle’s generosity. Being a cutpurse was something that neither Stephan of Misha wanted to give up, it was their way of life. But they would provide good education for Sonia and Sophia, with the money they stole. She put the crowns into four bags, fifty coins into each, then lifted a loose floorboard and hid the bags under the dirt she and Stephan had placed there to hide their savings. After putting the floorboard back in place, she cut four new marks onto the doorframe. Sixteen of them, she thought. We need twenty to get out. Six years of thieving and begging all summed up here… It has been a long time. She then went back to the table to examine the last thing she had found in the bag. It was a silver medallion, with an eye wreathed in flames etched onto it. As she held it up, she fancied that the flames were withering in the candlelight, the medallion growing warm. Just a trick of the eye, she thought. Maybe Stephan or I could fence it. We might be able to get fifteen crowns for it. She hung it on the bedpost and forgot about it. Misha compte l'argent qu'elle a volé, et rève de ce qu'elle va faire avec le fric. Il y a aussi un petit médaillon en argent avec un oeil entouré de flammes, mais il ne s'agit que d'une babiole sans valeur... Misha woke up during the night, thinking that it was dawn. A soft, purple, light had filled the room during her sleep, and yet, looking out the window, she saw that it was still very dark out. What is it, she thought sleepily. It can’t be morning, not yet. She climbed out of her bed, careful to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the twins. Peering around the room, she saw that the light was coming from the foot of her bed. Strange, she thought as she walked towards it. It looks like the medallion is giving off the light. But that can’t be right. Maybe I am asleep… She heard something outside, as if some one were tapping on the old house’s wall. Walking to the window, she looked out on the street. Three men in black robes were outside; one of them holding something that was also giving off purple light. The men from the market! How did they find me? She turned to see the medallion glow brighter. I must hide the light, she thought, and flung the bedclothes over it, muting the eerie light. I need to warn Stephan and the others. She crept to Stephan’s room and woke him. “What is the matter?” he asked “The men I stole the money from today are outside. I think they came for the medallion I found in the purse.” “Medallion?” “No time to explain, we need to get out of here before…” she was interrupted by the sound of wood being flung aside. “They found the way in! Wake the twins up and let’s get out of here!” he said, reaching for his sword. Misha ran out of the room, grabbing her street-clothes on the way to the twins’ bed, and woke them up, hands over their mouths so that the wouldn’t cry out. “Get out of bed! This is very important: do not complain and do exactly what Stephan and I say. You need to get your cloaks on now! Do not worry about anything else, we are leaving this place.” The twins were too sleepy and confused to argue, they fell out of bed and flung. Misha pried the floorboard open and picked one bag out, putting everything back as it was. Maybe we will come back latter, she told herself, hoping that it was true. Just as long as the men don’t find it… She got dressed as fast as she could, simply putting on what was under hand, and tied her throwing knives in the small of her back, and was buckling on her boots when the house shook, a loud “boom” echoing through the night. They are widening the hole! We don’t have much time! Without thinking, she grabbed the medallion and stuffed it into her pocket. Stephan walked in through the door. “We need to get out through the roof! You go first, Misha, and I will pass you the twins.” She nodded, and placed a chair under the trapdoor. Climbing onto it, she undid the latch and hoisted herself onto the roof. The twins followed her soon after, and last of all Stephan. Heavy footsteps thundered up the creaky stairs. “We need to get out of here now!” he panted. “Over there,” he pointed at another patch of houses. “Then, we get away from here, fast!” Misha est éveillée par une lueur violette qui emmane du médaillon. Puis elle voit et entend des hommes capuchonés dehors qui tente de rentrer dans la maison. Tout le mond s'enfuit par les toits. “The Icon is in there, we have three men inside now.” “You may just have saved your worthless hide, maggot! Kill anyone and anything in there!” “As ordered!” “There is nobody in here!” a voice called from inside. “What?” “Maybe you didn’t save yourself after all…” “There!” another voice cried. “On the roofs!” “Get them!” Dialogue entre les méchants. À la fin, ils voient Misha et les autres sur les toits... Voila, je vous laisse aggoniser sans suite pendant deux jours . Non, je vais me grouiller autant que possible, deux (max trois) jour et je poste, donc à vendredi ou samedi. Ecthelion

Càest bien, très bien. On commence à avoir deux ou trois choses. Juste, la règle "impétueux" des suderons, autant faire comme pour les chevaliers errants, en gerdant le -1 pour une unité à déja raté ce teste. Les chasseurs de lions n'ont pas cette règle, ni "les cornes du taureau". Est-ce normal? Peut tu me dire d'ou sortent les tentacules du veau? J'ai du mal à me représenter cela. Voici mon idée pour les Fétiches: Les Fétiches sont des idoles de bois créée pour honorer un guerrier de la famille mort au combat. La famille sculpte la statuette pour qu'elle ressemble grossièrement au défunt, l'ornant généralemnt d'une bouche ouverte pourvue de grandes dents. Puis on y place un objet ayant appartenu ou du mort. Le plus courament, il s'agit d'une mèche de cheveux ou du sang du défunt, voire un porte-bonheur de celui-ci. Quand les temps sont graves, les Sorciers peuvent invoquer les esprits des guerriers morts pour qu'ils prennent pocession de leur image en bois et ainsi combatre aux cotés des vivants, bien que même leur famille à peur d'eux dans ces cas. Bien que souvent moins d'un mètre, leurs doiigts griffus et leurs dents recouverts de métal peuvent facilement déchicter leurs adversaires. M CC CT F E PV I A Cd Fétiche 4 4 0 4 4 1 4 2 10 "Champion Fétiche" 4 4 0 4 4 1 4 3 10 Armes: Griffes et crocs Armure: aucune Règles spéciales: Peur Idoles: portent des attaques magiques, aura démoniaque 5+, mmunisés à la psycologie, indémorlisables, esprits: perdent un pv par résultat de combat en leur défaveur. Peur des morts: Toute unité de suderons à 12 ps des fétiches subit un malus de -1 à leur Cd. Ce malus s'applique avant tout malus et affecte même les unités immunisés à la psycologie, ou à la peur/terreur. J'esite aussi à mettre "amalgame MV", mais je crois que c'est trop bourrin. Idoles: Les Idoles sont des fétichent immences sculptée en l'honneur de chefs ou de rois morts qui sont ecouvertes d'or. Elles aussi peuvent être annimée par un sorcier. M CC F E PV I A Cd Idole 5 5 0 5 5 3 4 3 10 Grande Idole 5 5 0 5 5 3 4 4 10 Armes: Griffes et crocs Armures: 5+ (recouvertes d'or) Règles spéciales: Idem Fétiches. En plus de ça, je pencais mettre une limitation de 0-1 par sorcier dans l'armée. Et pourquoi pas des objets magiques "Fétiches", je les vois sourtout pour les mages, mais pourquoi pas pour les guerriers. Dites-moi ce que vous en pensez. Ecthelion

Pal mal, je ne m'attendais pas à se que la forêt soit dans cet état. En sens bien le tiraillement de Kirla, la difficulté de choisir entre deux mondes... Enfin les emmotions sont bien décris, mais on sent quand même la confusion qu'il y a lors des rencontres, du deuil, etc... J'attend la suite! Ecthelion

OK, compte sur moi pour te donner un coup de main! Ecthelion

Je pensais à quelque chose qui est cabable de faire des blessure multiples, D3 je crois, contre les monstres à plusieurs PV (Trolls, Minautors, tigres à dent de sabre etc...) mais seulement les mettre aux chasseurs de lions et éléphants. Pour leur formation, je les vois plutot en tirailleurs, c'est plus pratique pour chasser. Pourait-on les mettre immunisés à la peur/terreur ou crois-tu que c'est trop bourin? Pour les fétiches, on peut remplacer les pygmés par de petit fétiches (un peu diablo, mais bon, mais on ferrait plaisir à Dreadaxe), et avoir de grands fétiches du genre lémures. Je les vois comme des statuettes de bois, annimés par une possession démoniaque avec tout ce que cela entraine (aura, attaques magiques, immunisés à la psycologie, instabilité, peur etc...) Ensuite, faut voir pour la magie et déterminer la place des unités dans l'armée... (y'a du boulot!) Ecthelion

Et les gourdins de jet massaï? On les prend ou pas? Ça ferait plus de caractère à la liste. Ecthelion

T'a oublié le gourdin de jet massaï, j'en ai un chez moi. Ils les utilisent pour fracasser les crânes des lions... Pas d'australopithèques! Ça fait un peu raciste... Des singes géants avec un peuple "africaiin"... Autrement, faut cherche à paufiner un peu par-ci et là. Eléphat de Guerre? Ecthelion

Je pense que c'est assez équilibré. Toute les pierres sont bien une seule utilisation? Domaine du métal, pourquoi pas, c'est bien en rapport avec l'alchimie ces pierres. Seule truc, même avec les bretos, peu de monde a huit autres héros . Ecthelion

Bon, je vois juste un petit problème avec l'armée. On risque de créer des Elfes Sylvains bis. Je m'explique: Je vois mal des Massaï et Zoulous se battre en formation sérées à la Napoléon. On va faire beacoup de tirailleurs et c'est un peu du déja vu. Ça ne gène pas trop, mais dans une partie Skaven ES que j'ai disputé il y a deux jours, les ES n'ont rien pus faire contre mes régiments, même en chargeant de flanc. Comment faire pour garder un esprit "tirailleurs" sans pour autant les rendre impuissants au càc, ne me dites pas "hardes", c'est trop bourrin, et pas dans le style. Si quelqu'un a des idées, qu'il poste un peu... Ecthelion

Meci pour l'encouragement, Fourberass! Et toi? As-tu avancé avec ton récit? Trève de bêtises, j'avancerais avec la suite dès que j'aurais fini de ranger ma chambre . Ecthelion

Merci pour les corrections Wilheim. Je sais, c'est un peu "Oh tien il y a...", mais j'espère que ce ne l'est quand même pas trop. Autrement, la suite est en train de se faire, d'ici deux à trois jours ce sera fini et je pourrais poster une ou deux pages de texte. Merci d'avoir lu. Ecthelion.

Bonjour. Tout d'abord, excuser moi pour le retard que j'ais pris dans mes postes. Pour me faire pardonner, je vous envoie une belle dose. Hunted, continued The next day, they awoke a little before dawn so that they could get ready for the day. The twins had to wash up and be dressed, something that was a small victory if Misha could get it done. The Twins hated washing up and fidgeted constantly, so that she almost had to wrestle them into their dresses. The twins wore matching red dresses with a gold trim, things for which Misha and Stephan had paid a week’s worth of thieving. The only thing that would tell them apart were the small gold-chain necklaces; Sonia’s had a blue stone in it while Sophia’s had a green one. Misha chose to wear her blue silk dress, the one that Stephan had stolen from Cathyen merchant for her. She also put a white shall over her head to hide her short hair. The twins were already planning where they would spend their money, disagreeing more often than not. “First let’s go to the stalls where the sell candies!” said Sophia. “Yes, but I want to see the jewelers first!” “We did that last time!” “No, last time we went to see the animal trainers first, like you wanted!” And on and on it went, until Stephan came in and solved the problem by telling them that they would go to the smiths first, then go wherever they wanted, so long that Misha got to get some of the things she wished for, much to the twins’ dismay. “Now, everybody put his cloak on and we will be off.” The cloaks were dirty, tattered and torn, the better to pass unseen. They slipped out of their home and headed for the markets. At the corner of an alley, Stephan checked that nobody was around then quickly pulled his cloak off telling the others to do so. “Now remember,” he said. “We are the children of some minor noble, and we are off to the market to buy some things. Make sure we aren’t followed, and please don’t let your tongs wander, little ones,” he told the twins. With that, they mingled with the crowds of people going to the market. Tout le monde (Misha, les julelles et leur grand frère (des jumelles), Stephan) se préparent à aller au marché. Rien de spécial. They all had a good time at the market, spending money and acting like they owned the world. Misha knew that their attitude was frivolous, but they enjoyed their carefree lives. Let tomorrow bring what it will, we will just make do with what we can steal, she thought. I have lived like this for ten years, and I could live like this for another twenty! They bought a new sword for Stephan at the smith’s shop. While he was haggling with the merchant, Misha noticed a set of throwing knives with a holder that one could attach to his belt. They left the smith’s, their purses much lighter. Candy had to be bought for the twins and every stall inspected to satisfy their curiosity. They spent an hour looking at a man showing off several monkeys and finally had to be dragged away by the others. To console them, Misha bought them both red silk ribbons to tie their hair. After the noon meal, the twins were much subdued, enough for Misha to be able to take them to the stalls selling books and scrolls. She loved to look at the books and see the strange letters and runes, even though she couldn’t read them. It was something she regretted, but it came with the life she lived. She spent a minute admiring a stone tablet carved with dwarven runes, then turned to leave. It was then that something made her stop. Two men in black hooded cloaks were looking through a musty old book and talking excitedly. This didn’t go unnoticed by the merchant who walked up to them, apparently to ask them if they wanted to buy it. The two men considered, than nodded. Intrigued, Misha drew closer and managed to catch what they were saying. “It is an old tome. I have had it for several years…” he was saying. “Enough of that!” one of the men interrupted rudely. “Tell us how much you want for it!” “Well, I suppose I might let it go for three hundred crowns…” he considered, rising the price considerably out of anger at having been cut off. “Well will take it!” the other one said, tossing three bags of gold onto the table to the merchant’s great surprise. Why did he do that? thought Misha as the men walked off, the book hidden under their cloaks. That was at least three times what it was worth. Misha considered it for a while, then smiled. Next time I see a black cloak, I’m going to follow it and pick it clean! On est au marché. les petites s'amusent... Misha voit deux hommes de noir vétus et cpuchonés qui achètent à prix extavagant un vieux livre poussièreux. Misha se décide de le détrousser la prochaine fois qu'elle les véra. The next day saw Misha hanging around the booksellers’ stalls, hoping that one or more of the cloaked figures would pass by. She waited there until noon, but they didn’t come. Well, maybe they don’t come every day, she thought. I need to cut someone’s purse if I am going to bring some gold home today. So, she went back to her normal way of life, but always keeping an eye on the lookout for the hooded men. Nearly three weeks had past when she again saw three of them looking around the jewelers’ section of the market. I thought that I was never going to see them again! Well, let’s go relieve them of some gold… Sliding behind the men, she examined them, guessing which one would be the easiest to pluck. They stopped in front of a jeweler’s stall, one of them reaching for his belt. When he did so, his cloak was pulled back, revealing a large purse hanging off his hip. Misha acted quickly. Forcefully, she bumped into the merchant, knocking him into the cloaked man. As the two of them collided, she reached out and cut his purse. Yes! she thought as she walked away, the pouch disappearing under her tunic. And it feels heavy too! We will be eating like kings for weeks! With that, Misha hurried of to count her well “earned” wages. Après trois semaines, Misha réussi à trouver les "Men in Black" et à leur faucher un sac d'or... “Somebody just cut my purse!” “You should have been watching over it, idiot! You just lost two hundred crowns! We will be taking it from your flesh!” “Not only money, the Icon was in it too.” “You brainless git! If you don’t fix this problem by tomorrow night, you will be a dead man!” “Yes sir!” Quelq'un a perdu du fric et quelquechose d'autre, encore plus important... Et il va la récupérer... L'histoire va commencer à décoller maintenant. Je pense que vous avez compris qui sont les hommes de noir vêtus et que vous immaginez la suite. Eh bien, faut que je l'écrive . Dites moi se que vous en penser. Ecthelion

Oui, on aimerait bien savoir si on se lance, finalement. J'ai des idées, mais faut savoir si je ne vais pas être le seule (ou presque) à tvailler dessus. Ecthelion

Bon, puisse qu'il ne reste plus grand chase, pourquoi pas une armée du thème Massaï, juste une idée un peu bête, mais si on veut crer quelque chose... Ecthelion

Oui ,ils sont plutôt insouciants. Ils mènent une vie d'aventure, ils peuvent seprocurer autant d'or qu'ils veulent, ils sont leurs propres maîtres... Pour eux, c'est la vie de rèves! Bien enttendu, cette vie va être brisée... D'accord, 60 couranes en quatre jours, c'est beacoup, je vais modifier cela. Merci de tes conseilles! Ecthelion

Pour le prêtre, je voyais un gars du genre: "Tur les infidèles! Que lescadavres de ces chiens pourrissent au désert!" etc. On pouraît faire quelquechose comme ça, tans pis si on copie un peu. Pour le Wyrm des Sables, je vois deux possibilités: soit un Wyrm des Sables ou un Scarabé Géant. Voici ce que je propose: Wyrm des Sables: ?pts M:6 CC:6 CT:0 F:6 E:6 PV:5? I:4 A:4 Cd:? Armes: Griffes et crocs. Armure: Peau Écailleuse (3+) Règles Spèciales: terreur, grande cible, il en vient de partout (comme dans le livre de règles RdT), mouvement souterrain: Si le Wyrm est sur la table en début du tour, il peut sacrifier son mouvement pour s'enfouir. Une fois enfouichoisissez une direction, le Wyrm progressera alors normalement dans cette direction jusqu'à ce que vous choisissez de le faire sortir de terre. Le Wyrm sort de terre quand vous le désiré, mais à la fin de votre phase de mouvement, il peut engager des ennemis si il sort sous eux, il compte alors comme ayant chargé de dos en ce qui est du résultat du combat. Toute unité à 6ps de l'endroit d'où emmerge le Wyrm doivent effectuer un teste de terreur (même si l'unité y à déja été soumis). Pour le Scarabé, faudrait proposer un profil. Mais je pense aux règles: terreur, il en vient de partout, crachat d'acide(?), sang acide(?). Donnez moi votre avis. Sinon, idée pour une autre unité: charmeur de serpents, une nuée de serpents+un charmeur, 1-5 groupes par choix (base ou spé, ne sais pas). Voila, j'ai fait ma contribution pour aujourd'hui. Ecthelion

Bon, j'envois le premier bout de la deuième partie. Hunted The target walked down the crowded streets, unaware that he was being followed, stalked was more appropriate, by a small hooded figure. He was a very fat man, dressed in expensive clothes and using an expensive perfume to hide the foul stench of his sweaty body. And sweat he did, whether it was hot or cold, whether he was moving or not. Were it not for his human face and body, he could have been at home with a family of toads. The man looked about, admiring the stalls of the merchants selling jewelry, not noticing that his shadow back off, fearing that the numerous guards around the stalls might notice it. The man stopped at one of the trader’s stall and started talking to him. Half an hour later, he paid the merchant, picked up a ring and walked away, his shadow still in tow. Now it was time, the hooded figure walked up to the man, hand clasped around the hilt of a small dagger. It did not draw it, so that no light would reflect off of it, revealing itself to those around it. The man stopped and looked at a stall selling soaps and perfumes, and that was all that it needed. The dagger came out as it bumped into the man, and with amazing dexterity, cut the man’s purse from his belt without him noticing. Then the figure backed away, mimicking fear and shame at having gotten in the way of a better, and never got a second glance from the nobleman. Yes! Third one this day, it thought. To bad he bought that ring, he must have paid fifty crowns for it! Well, this will be enough for four or five days… It walked down a narrow street, hiding the purse in the folds of its tunic. As it rounded the corner, a small gang of young boys blocked its way. The oldest one shoved it to the ground and placed his foot on its stomach. “Well, Misha,” he said in a mocking voice. “Are you going to pay for protection, or what? We are tired of you not paying up when the time comes.” “I don’t need any of you to protect me,” was the contentious answer. “As if I you could protect anything. Now, get your foot off of me!” “Why should I take orders from a girl?” he laughed. “Because,” she struck his in the knee with the hilt of her dagger, dropping him to the ground with a shriek, “Girls get nasty when they are not obeyed.” She rolled to the side, and, before the other boys could react, was up, a second dagger in her left hand. “Come get your money if you want it, scum!” As they didn’t do anything, she spat at them. “Yeah, you would protect me, only so I would pay in trade. Well, I will die before that happens!” And she walked right past them, elbowing one out the way hard. “Don’t bother me again! Or it will be painful!” On prend connaissamce de Misha, une petite fille (environ 16 ans) qui vit dans la rue. Elle fait du pick-pocket, et est dure comme de l'acier. Vous direz: "Rien à voir avec se qui précédait", mais attendez un peu... Misha walked to the old, run-down house she lived in. Before entering, she was careful to make sure that nobody was following her. Satisfied, she ducked behind a pile of rotting wood and crawled through a small hole in the wall. She stood up at the foot of an old staircase that led up to the room were she slept. Tossing the cut purses on a table, she headed to the bedroom to change into some clean clothes and wash herself. It was a different person that emerged from the room later; her straw-colored hair was rather short, the better to pass for a boy, but now it was clean and combed, the grimy rags she had been wearing, were exchanged for a simple green dress and her face and body washed. She was actually rather pretty when she took care of her looks, but since she was an orphan and homeless, it was better not to attract men’s eyes. So whenever she left her home to find money, she dirtied herself and dressed poorly, and so far, it had worked remarkably well. She sat down to count her day’s earnings. Not bad, she thought. Just over sixty crowns. Well, that should last us three days, and we might be able to go to the market and buy something nice. It was then that Sonia and Sophia, the two twins that lived with her came inside from their day of begging. “What a miserable day!” exclaimed Sonia. “We spent all day next to some idiot backer’s stall, mewing like famished kittens, and he didn’t even offer us any bread!” “So we liberated some from his stall,” continued Sophia. “We also got a sausage from a kind butcher. We bought some butter and preserves from other merchants, so we have today’s supper, but no extra gold to add to the treasury.” “How did Stephan do?” asked Misha. Stephan was the twin’s elder brother, the one who had taken Misha under his wing for his young sisters’ sakes. “He got chased by some guards near the end of the day, but got away with a whole leg of pork…” began Sophia “…So we will have some good meat tomorrow night!” finished Sonia. “Well, I have sixty crowns to spend, how about we go to market tomorrow and play noblewomen, I’m sure that Stephan will want to get something as well.” The twins couldn’t hide their delight at the idea. On voit où, et avec qui, Misha habite. Toute la "famille" se prépare à aller au marché le landemain. Le but du début, était de faire croire à un assassinat par le cult de Tzeentch, est-ce réussit? Je sais que c'est un peu rien à avoir avec Igenham et Cie, mais attendez la fin de cette histoire. Dites-moi ce que vous en penser svp. Ecthelion

Merci beaucoup Fourberass! Comme moi je suis toujours en vacances, j'ai tout le temps d'écrire et lire le travail des autres, alors compte aussi sur moi pour lire ton texte! Content que tu veille la suite, elle arrive cet aprem. Ecthelion

Por ceux qui ont fini cette partie, pourriez-vous me donner un commentaire générale avant que je continue à poster la 2ème partie? Merci. Ecthelion

Tu peut le trouver ici. Ecthelion

C'est un bon début pour une liste qui m'a l'aire pas mal du tout. Juste une ou deux choses à dire: 1: Je pense plutôt, immunisés à la psycologie jusqu'a la fin du tour en cours, ils se calment après un moment. 2:Pourquoi pas un héros du genre Prêtre Guerrier, mais sans les sorts. À la place il inspire une haine et un fanatisme aux troupes qui l'accompagnent. 3: Les Djins ne sont pas des esprits du feu, non? Ce n'est pas plutôt les Iffrits. Pourquoi pas mettre des Djins qui peuvent bénir les troupes? 4: Je vois mal un Phénix dans une armée Arabienne. Pourquoi pas une créature du désert, genre wyrme du sable... Ou d'autres créatures dans cette voie. 5: Les janissaires devrait être un choix spécial, et non rare. Leur cout et utilités ne sont passez haut pour justifier cette place dans l'armée. Autrement, as-tu vérifié les point avec le générateur de profil? Continue, je vais penser à d'autre trucs pour l'armée. Ecthelion.