Fantasy Eternal Conquest

[turtwigwins]

Calista allowed a small smile to appear as Nanissis elaborated on his plan for securing the southern front of the empire. As he suggested a campaign to control the southern ocean, his ostentatious presentation revealed a significant benefit to the empire. She nodded in agreement as he presented, placing his token beside Einar's on the board.

"A well-thought-out plan, General Yervo. Total control of the southern ocean would greatly benefit the empire."

Listening to Voyka, she identified the final element of Yervo's plan. "Voyka, you shall join the campaign in the south. Luminae may still harbor loyalties to their kin in Caliban, and your presence will ensure those ties do not evolve into something greater. I trust the scholars of Althreiell will be no match for your might. Should General Bower join you as well? The front will soon expand, and a concentration of force is needed." She placed Voyka's token on the table along with Jack's.

Next was the eager General Munsie. Calista found herself nodding to his words as she placed the token on Tobyou, only to be interrupted by the lich. His suggestion of exterminating an entire city sent a small chill up her spine, which she struggled to suppress. Voyka proposed a more moderate solution, but the message was still one of significant bloodshed. Her family sought tribute, not the senseless destruction of a city. She turned to face Ahkmen with a determined stare as Voyka and the further comment Nanissis finished. Before she could speak the Lich made a response that made her blood boil.

"May I remind the generals that the purpose of an empire is to rule. Destroying a city that poses no direct threat to us is wasteful. And although I am sure the undead may be able to till the fields, their loyalty is only to their master. The master of Odaden is its Emperor, and their hearts and souls belong to him." She thought, Remember, your place is in this empire, Lich, not merely the desert you call home. "I sanction Munsie's plan. If you have any objections, you may appeal to the emperor." Calista placed the two tokens on Tobyou.

"That takes care of the eastern front," she declared, taking a series of tokens in her hands. "Prince Oneiruth, I assume you'll begin your campaign in your homeland of Argalis. We should focus on forming an eastern front, with Jannaxes supporting at the crossroads and Richard holding the frontier in Kaslia. Arenea, you can support Budagyar. The northern realms are not as hostile but still present an opportunity. The remaining generals, Solari, Grull, and Zayin, should be enough to manage the rest."

She let out a sigh, looking at the map as it came together. Would this meet Regis's expectations? The wait wouldn't be long, as the doors to the great hall soon swung open, and the emperor strode in with a broad smile. He was accompanied by an escort of nobility and his own guard of Odaden soldiers and demonic guards who proudly bore the empire's white star. They spread out across the upper level of the great hall as Regis walked by, taking long, measured steps. The man had a chiseled face, and an imposing figure of over six feet and five inches in height. Plated gold and a triumphant black cape that stood with the imperial white star draped down to the floor.

He first stopped by his dear pet, Aranea, giving her a small pat on the head. "I've missed you dearly. You're growing quite big."

Regis then approached Voyka and Richard, pulling them together before giving a quick salute. "Generals."

As he passed Jack, he gave a little pat on the head and remarked with a small laugh, "Growing a bit taller, are we?"

Next, he approached the table where Einar, Nanissis, and Munsie sat. "Great to see you all. I see you're already settling into Madden's position well, Jaddeth." He took a glass of wine from a passing servant, holding it up to Nanissis before gulping it down in one swig. Turning to Munsie, Regis knelt down and pulled a cinnamon roll from his pocket. "Brought this for you. I know how much you halflings love breakfast."

Finally, Regis turned his attention to the lich, standing tall and uttering a single word, "Ahkmenohtep."

Regis continued his steps, slowly rising to the throne at the end of the room. Upon reaching it, he nodded to Jannaxes and the seat positioned slightly lower to his left.

"I see my dear sister has laid quite the plan before us. What do we make of it?" He'd take a seat after saying the words, ready for the generals comments.

 

[Damian0358]

As Nanissis spoke, she noticed the elf sideeyed her as if she had said something controversial. She couldn't fathom what issue he would've found in what she said, given she was considering the logistics of the fronts. The Princess seemed to note that she recognized this, and assigned her to the southern front, especially towards the south-east, engaging both in her usual rebel-stomping role in Luminae, but too in containing Althreiell, to ensure control of the Southern Ocean. The idea appealed to her. When asked on General Bower, she turned to face the halfman and spoke.

"If Bower has no interests elsewhere, he is free to join and ensure a bolstered front in the south-east," she shared her opinion, wishing not to restrict him if he sought to fight on the other fronts, and allowing another to take his place beside her against Althreiell.

With the southern front decided, Nanissis' seeming distrust of her continued as he seemed to imply she doubted Ahkmenohtep's abilities, before ultimately siding with her on cooperation in the north-east. Before she could highlight the point of "devoiding the place of life thoroughly", as Nanissis put it, Munsie spoke truth to those present. Just as she personally thought, wanton slaughter on the scale the Lich intended was not practical, something she knew from her experience. She smiled proudly and nodded, as she was sure Munsie too recognized her reasons along with what she had named herself.

But then the Lich himself spoke, and she was once more reminded of when he first appeared. If there was one more bold than the rest of them, it was Ahkmenohtep. While she was honest in rejecting the Sorcerer's offer to raise army fodder for them using the bodies of the fallen enemy because her enemy was often too brutalized for it, she always saw in the offer potential for deceit - a longer-term scheme which would pay off in his assertion of power over the realm, having caught all the generals off-guard by having their 'fodder units' strike at them when they least expected it. The plan was so obvious she was impressed he felt so bold to push for it. It served as the moment to never underestimate the Lich nor his abilities, given his confidence in them, and everything since seemed to affirm that for her. It almost made her wonder whether 'our glorious leader' referred to more than just Regis. He would take everything she enjoyed in life in the slaughter, and remove the laughter from it. Complete and utter domination, total subservience, with flesh rendered obsolete in favor of bone; such a boring existence.

As if recognizing the flaws in the Lich's plans, Calista decidedly sanctioned Munsie's plans over his. She grinned even brighter than she had previously, proud of Munsie succeeding in the battles of bureaucracy. Voyka paid attention to where their remaining colleagues were assigned in the remaining sections of the western and north-western fronts, with the final preliminary plans settled. And soon, the Emperor himself finally arrived.

While other men in his position would likely use fear, power, and similar such tactics to instill loyalty in their generals, Regis remained compassionate with them, instilling loyalty through true trust. Trust he never seemed to have prior to the creation of his demonic army and empire. Voyka and Richard found themselves paired together as Regis made their way, giving them a quick salute.

"My liege," she said in a respectful tone, returning his salute with her own.

She watched as he greeted each of them individually, even grinning slightly as Munsie received a special gift from the Emperor himself. It's almost as if he knew she spoke of him. And soon, he was upon his throne, ready to hear their feedback to Calista's plan. While she was ready to confirm that she approved of Calista's assigning of her to the southeast, she maintained a practice of never being the first to speak in front of the Emperor, given her Osyne background. In addition, she suspected a certain boney other wishes to make their voice heard first.

 

[CaptainSully]

Calista allowed a small smile to appear as Nanissis elaborated on his plan for securing the southern front of the empire. As he suggested a campaign to control the southern ocean, his ostentatious presentation revealed a significant benefit to the empire. She nodded in agreement as he presented, placing his token beside Einar's on the board.

"A well-thought-out plan, General Yervo. Total control of the southern ocean would greatly benefit the empire."

Listening to Voyka, she identified the final element of Yervo's plan. "Voyka, you shall join the campaign in the south. Luminae may still harbor loyalties to their kin in Caliban, and your presence will ensure those ties do not evolve into something greater. I trust the scholars of Althreiell will be no match for your might. Should General Bower join you as well? The front will soon expand, and a concentration of force is needed." She placed Voyka's token on the table along with Jack's.

Next was the eager General Munsie. Calista found herself nodding to his words as she placed the token on Tobyou, only to be interrupted by the lich. His suggestion of exterminating an entire city sent a small chill up her spine, which she struggled to suppress. Voyka proposed a more moderate solution, but the message was still one of significant bloodshed. Her family sought tribute, not the senseless destruction of a city. She turned to face Ahkmen with a determined stare as Voyka and the further comment Nanissis finished. Before she could speak the Lich made a response that made her blood boil.

"May I remind the generals that the purpose of an empire is to rule. Destroying a city that poses no direct threat to us is wasteful. And although I am sure the undead may be able to till the fields, their loyalty is only to their master. The master of Odaden is its Emperor, and their hearts and souls belong to him." She thought, Remember, your place is in this empire, Lich, not merely the desert you call home. "I sanction Munsie's plan. If you have any objections, you may appeal to the emperor." Calista placed the two tokens on Tobyou.

"That takes care of the eastern front," she declared, taking a series of tokens in her hands. "Prince Oneiruth, I assume you'll begin your campaign in your homeland of Argalis. We should focus on forming an eastern front, with Jannaxes supporting at the crossroads and Richard holding the frontier in Kaslia. Arenea, you can support Budagyar. The northern realms are not as hostile but still present an opportunity. The remaining generals, Solari, Grull, and Zayin, should be enough to manage the rest."

She let out a sigh, looking at the map as it came together. Would this meet Regis's expectations? The wait wouldn't be long, as the doors to the great hall soon swung open, and the emperor strode in with a broad smile. He was accompanied by an escort of nobility and his own guard of Odaden soldiers and demonic guards who proudly bore the empire's white star. They spread out across the upper level of the great hall as Regis walked by, taking long, measured steps. The man had a chiseled face, and an imposing figure of over six feet and five inches in height. Plated gold and a triumphant black cape that stood with the imperial white star draped down to the floor.

He first stopped by his dear pet, Aranea, giving her a small pat on the head. "I've missed you dearly. You're growing quite big."

Regis then approached Voyka and Richard, pulling them together before giving a quick salute. "Generals."

As he passed Jack, he gave a little pat on the head and remarked with a small laugh, "Growing a bit taller, are we?"

Next, he approached the table where Einar, Nanissis, and Munsie sat. "Great to see you all. I see you're already settling into Madden's position well, Jaddeth." He took a glass of wine from a passing servant, holding it up to Nanissis before gulping it down in one swig. Turning to Munsie, Regis knelt down and pulled a cinnamon roll from his pocket. "Brought this for you. I know how much you halflings love breakfast."

Finally, Regis turned his attention to the lich, standing tall and uttering a single word, "Ahkmenohtep."

Regis continued his steps, slowly rising to the throne at the end of the room. Upon reaching it, he nodded to Jannaxes and the seat positioned slightly lower to his left.

"I see my dear sister has laid quite the plan before us. What do we make of it?" He'd take a seat after saying the words, ready for the generals comments.View attachment 1177304

Calista spoke and Ahkmenohtep certainly listened, he had to show her some respect even if he felt she didn't warrant it. Before he could respond, Regis himself arrived. He was not stupid enough to open his mouth before Regis settled. He was a tall figure, but no taller than Ahkmenohtep, their eye level equal, but their stature amongst those in the room certain not.

Regis went around the room before simply greeting the lich with his name. In response the undead being bowed his head, "My lord." He followed Regis with his vision as he approached and sat on his throne before opening a question to those before him.

"My lord," Ahkmenohtep said stepping forward, bowing with an arm across his chest, "The plan makes sense except where it concerns my contribution. You know full well what I bring to you and your campaign, yet your sister would prefer to put reigns on the skills that I offer."

Ahkmenohtep kept his eyes firmly on Regis although he expected Calista to likely be glaring at him with a white hot rage.

"My loyalty is solely to you, my undead and my constructs are yours to command. A sleepless and tireless army that can capture territory for you in the day and work your fields and mines at night, never resting, never faltering. Where it goes, so does your command."

He continues passionately, his attention firmly remaining on his lord.

"To the east is a city of rebels and ingrates, a filth that cannot be cleaned through an iron first. They have tasted freedom and they will not willingly give that up without giving up their lives. I proposed the only way to ensure compliance is to slay them, man, woman and child...to the last. Not only does this swell the ranks of your army, it also makes anyone before your forces reconsider standing against you."

Ahkmenohtep raised his hand towards Calista, gesturing in her direction.

"The princess has made her decision and while I respect it, I believe it wrong. I could sit here in silence, but I do not think biting my tongue, metaphorically of course, is the best resolution in this instance. A good follower does not simply say yes to everything, they do not only say what their leader wants to here, they challenge and offer alternatives. Honesty...that is what I being."

He nods at Regis once more before finishing.

"Whatever you say, your word is indeed final. I will follow whatever plan it is you wish."

 

[Abstracty]

Whatever suspicions he might have had about Voyka, Nanissis did not get to voice them any further. As Princess Calista spoke, he couldn't help but feel quite smug and satisfied with himself. His plan would likely go ahead and he could cooperate with the mighty Hag from a safe distance, both working towards the South on different sides of the sea. It was enough for him to nod towards Voyka more approvingly. His chest seemed to inflate even more as the Tokens were placed accordingly and the Princess laid out her own plans for all those that had still remained silent. Glancing over to General Jaddeth, he gave him a slight and very content wink. They were well positioned on this map and whatever criticisms the Princess had, they weren't directed at them. The Elf flinched slightly when General Zayin was mentioned, but he was soon back to his smug smile of superiority, at least until the arrival of Regis himself.

As the Emperor entered, Nanissis bit his lip and surveyed the scene keenly. They were all greeted in a specific manner and he patiently waited for any reactions. When it was his turn, Nanissis was smiling again and raising his own cup along. "To your good health and fortune.", he toasted as he tried to match the Emperors mighty gulp, not breaking eye contact whilst doing so. When the Emperor made his way from their table, he gently nudged Munsie with his elbow. "I reckon he fancies you. Probably baked it himself.", he teased in a whisper, eyeing towards the cinnamon roll. "And you haven't done too bad either...", Einar was also whispered towards, though Nanissis would quickly refocus on what the emperor had to say afterwards. All plans appeared to be quite alright for the Elf, but since Ahkmenohtep was in disagreement he remained silent, casually leaning back and crossing his legs while signalling for a servant to refill his cup. He couldn't help but wonder how dull a silent army of the Undead would be compared to his wild rabble. Once he had taken a sip, he was mostly focused on the Emperor and his reaction. Occasinally he would pull a face in accordance to the passion or cruelty noticeable in the speech, though it was little more than entertainment to him to listen to the Lichs protest.

 

[Scatterbrain]

Aranea had been treated with both unease and respect in equal parts by the other general's. The former was very much expected but the latter was more of a surprise. As some of the others talked amongst themselves, the psychic spider remained silent, mindful of not getting caught up in the bickering. As the doors to the great hall swung open, Aranea's many eyes followed Regis as he entered the room. As he approached, his towering figure casting a long shadow, she felt a momentary thrill of apprehension. It had been a while since she had been in his presence so she was uncertain how he would react. Yet it would seem her fear was misplaced as she was greeted with the familiar gesture of a small pat on her head, a reminder of her place in his eyes; as a pet and a curiosity.

"And I you, my Emperor," she replied, her voice a low, resonant murmur that seemed to emanate from the depths of the room. "All in service to the empire." As Regis moved on to greet the other generals, Aranea turned her focus back to the table. The map of the world lay before them, a canvas for conquest and strategy. Princess Calista had laid out a clear plan, and now it was time to refine it with their collective expertise.

She stepped forward slightly, inclining her head slightly towards Calista. "If I may be so bold," Aranea began, her voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "I believe my talents might better serve the empire if directed towards Althreiell or Anitinia. If the elves are unwilling to part with their knowledge of the healing arts, I can simply pluck it from their minds and initiating a dialog with the Antinian people should pose little problem when we can communicate by thought." Aranea paused, her eyes meeting those of Regis as he seated himself on the throne. "Yet, these are merely suggestions..." She held her head low in subservience. "And I shall submit to the superior judgement of the emperor, as always."

 

[Twist]

"A'right Guv" responded Jack to Einar, laying on his false facade.

More people began to arrive; an old woman, a man who certainly had the image of a general as well as two that held little in the appearance of human. And with that, it seemed everyone had arrived and the Princess quickly forced a discussion back onto their plans. Jack remained steady and silent, happy to listen to the others plans as he kept his to himself. The skeletal one spoke with much gusto, his skeletal image and rattling voice intimidating and his plans giving some Generals pause but Jack could tell a bluff when he saw one. If they were too meet on the field of a battle, General Bower knew almost certainly he would win. Though he of course kept that to himself, straying closer to those standing nearest him as if unsettled by Akhmenohtep.

As talk of conquest's were divulged Jack merely nodded his head absently along letting Princess Calista placed his token with the old woman Voyka's on the map. He had his own plans but he was keeping his card close to his chest until the time was right, letting himself absorb the atmosphere of the room. Such prominent power on display, something Jack dreamed to have himself. Spoken to by Voyka, Jack only looked at her with the expression of a dullard.

It was only when Regis himself entered did General Bower let his mask slip. Receiving a pat on the head like a child, the corner of Jack's lips twisted in annoyance for a moment. He would earn the Emperor's respect soon enough and with it even more.

Speaking last, after everyone else, Jack took the moment to unveil his own inclinations of conquest. He stepped forward, his posture respectful and his expression carefully neutral. He addressed the emperor directly, his voice steady and confident.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Jack began, his eyes meeting the emperor's, "Two regions pique my interest: Frostfell and Aberhald."

He paused for a moment, ensuring he had Regis's full attention before continuing. "Freya Stormwell is an opportune schemer having her bandits demanding tribute and robbing those who walk the roads. Her use of guerrilla tactics makes her hard to pin down and the Bandit Queens schemes seem only to be growing." Jack licked his lips. Freya Stormwell had a keen mind, an army all of her own and dreams of greater wealth and grandeur. Something Jack could certainly relate to. To match wits with her seemed like a entertaining challenge "I believe my army and I are up to the task of challenging her"

Jack then shifted his focus to the second region. "On the other hand, Aberhald presents a different kind of opportunity—a game, if you will." Something the halfling certainly enjoyed "They think themselves above greed but every man covets something of another. It is just the way of the world." He continued on with an amused expression "This makes them an intriguing target for subversion and manipulation, one I would love to toy with"

Throughout his explanation, Jack's tone remained measured, revealing only as much as he deemed necessary. His eyes flickered with a hint of ambition, though his words were chosen carefully to convey respect and loyalty to the emperor.

The half man stepped back, maintaining his composed demeanour as he awaited the emperor's response. His strategy of withholding information until the presence of Regis had been a calculated risk, but one he hoped would demonstrate his cunning and loyalty.

 

[turtwigwins]

Regis watched Ahkmenohtep flatly glancing briefly towards his sister during the speech who seemed to have grown in irritation with this Lich. Waiting until Ahkmenohtep finished his speech Regis would open with a small smile before speaking.

"You make statements of loyalty, but what do I have of assurance of such? In my youth when I followed the light of Solman I would of considered you an abomination."

Regis paused taking a breath, "I have no doubt of your power Ahkmenotep, your suggestion could turn the province into a tireless machine, but the controls to such would rest with you alone. And why cull all of a province? This surely limits the potential of growth. A living population would allow you a recylable resource as they die, would they not?"

Regis paused again tapping the right rest of his chair in seeming complementation, "Prove your loyalty through the securing of Pescon through ordinary means and I will permit this method to be used approach upon the Orcs of the Black Crag."

Regis glanced back into the room, "Munsie, I trust you to report truely."

Regis rested leaning back into his chair as Aranea and Jack as they made their own comments upon the plan his expression calm and regal.

"A change is in order then. Aranea, find out what these elves secret in their treetop homes."

He paused taking a breath as a small grin came across, "General Bower, I will have keen interest in how you will intice the people of Aberhald."

Calista would dutifly move the tokens as Regis proposed, with Aranea replacing Jack in Luminae, and Jack to the Pinterra.

 

[Damian0358]

Voyka watched amusedly as Ahkmenohtep resisted Calista's authority, only to be similarly shut down by Regis. She gave Calista a knowing glance and nod, and then turned to give Munsie a huge grin. But her amusement changed afterward, as the discussion shifted to more serious matters. Aranea and Jack, who had largely kept to themselves prior to Regis' arrival, finally shared their thoughts on the plan at hand, and she merely gave a considered nod as plans were altered.

Given the southern campaign's focus on dominating the Southern Ocean, she wholeheartedly agreed in the decision to swap Jack out for Aranea. Jack's focus on Frostfell - though entirely sensible - would result in the south-eastern front lagging behind. With Aranea, Althreiell would remain the top focus, though this would mean they would always have to worry about potential incursion from Stormwell. She was sure she and Aranea were up to the task however. Not having Aranea similarly distract the north-eastern front by dealing with Anitinia was an apt choice. Though there was some consideration to be made now with the western front.

"The plans as they are set for the southeast suit me" Voyka began, turning to face Aranea, "I look forward in demolishing the artisans with Aranea. However," she then faced the map and pointed at Pythos and Nulanali, "with Aranea shifted to Luminae, and Jack to the Pinterra, that leaves Budagyar without a general covering it. I suggest General Vastavijk be posted there, to ensure the Nulanali are deterred."

 

[dikdik]

In the middle of a game of cat and mouse, voices brooding with emotion and the table becoming tense with disagreement that seemed not to end upon Voyka’s perfectly responsible compromise, Einra took a moment to consider Nanissis’ quiet jab back at him. The elf would rather enslave than burn? An interesting proposition from Nanissis, though certainly undesirable to Einar. He supposed it’d be best not to make enemies of the other Generals or Regis himself by committing unreasonable amounts of violence right out of the gate. At least not immediately…

“I suppose I’ll stave off the urge to burn everyone’s home to the ground. Even after their blatant rebellion and treason.” He mumbled at Nanissis before Calista validated the plan for the two to take Caliban, and placed their tokens on the world map, eliciting a glance and wink from Nanissis, garnering a pressed yet satisfied smile in return as Einar pressed his back into the chair once more, sipping from his wine glass slowly and intentionally.

Einar continued to look back and forth between those straining to garner support for their plans of attack. The tension gave Einar just a hint of relief that his and Nanissis’ plan was immediately accepted by the princess. He was glad they had taken lead in deciding where to move their armies, as it surely wouldn’t please Calista or Regis to demand collaboration from the Generals or to decide for them where they’d travel.

As the Emperor had crossed Einar’s mind, he swung open the door to the chamber; a man of import, his wealth and stature glimmering in actual gold, his hair loose and finding the folds of a cloak black as night. Regis’ greetings to the chamber were warm, intentional, and personal. Upon the validation gracing Einar’s ears, he nodded his head sharply downwards, a curt display of respect, “Our Emperor.”

Hopes of the tension dissolving in the Master’s presence were diminished as the words exchanged between Regis and Ahkmenotep retained their sting. Einar felt a child watching grown men talk of war and ruin and blood. An experience collected in Memory from his first few years in his devilish father’s forces. Not for lack of his own experience, having served for ten years before his two as General, but for lack of venom, guile, and confidence in his words. He had all three, but not in the same capacity. He portrayed a collected man, a man of capacity and one prone to violence, but intentional. One commanding power, respect. Was it enough? It would be enough. He would excel. Observing a man like Regis rise to power, he could see himself becoming even greater. Becoming a god.

Enough of the impatience. Bloodlust could get the better of him if he wasn’t careful. He’d need to sate the desire soon, or recklessness may seep through the cracks.

Soon enough, he’d lay waste to Caliban. And it’s for you. It’s for you.

 

[CaptainSully]

He could hear the whispers and see the smirks of the other generals, but it mattered little. While the first step of his plan would not be how he wanted, it was his chance to curry favour with Regis which would benefit him in the long run. The reality was, victory now would bring him the opportunity of a far more favourable prize in the Orcs of Black Crag. Skeletons were skeletons, but some just happened to be bigger and more intimidating than others.

He would have smirked if his face would have allowed it, as the thought of Pescon devolving into a continuous guerilla insurgency flashed through his mind. He just needed to get the flag of Regis' power raised in the city and then from there whatever happened was down to the Halfling. Besides, the city would not fall without some bloodshed, so there would be opportunity to add to his forces in the name of his lord.

Ahkmenohtep bowed before Regis and spoke solemnly.

"You needn't fear me my lord, my word is my bond and it is bound in servitude to you. You are my lord and I will do as you say, I simply wish to repay your faith in me."

 

[Crocodile]

Jannexas listened to all the proposals and counters. The curious ambitions playing out before his ornate mask as the ever pleasant smelling smoke flowed from his head, glowing with his blue flame. Regis arriving pleased him more over listening to the Envy child barking at the other servant lords.

With the gesture of invitation, Jannexas glides across the floor and up the steps to take the offered lower seat. He enjoyed the shift perspective. Regis was his favorite toy and he was rewarded for his efforts in feeding his sins. Pride was his favorite part, it drove the Eternal Emperor to greater scales of darkness. His plans were proceeding well, worth every bit of tainted power he had ripped from himself to enter this world and gifted towards the ascension of Emperor Regis.

"My lord, I believe the novel idea of entrusting a crossroads to me was put forth. Does this please you? Shall I take it for you?" Jannexas offered in the ever alluring voice. The Whisper of Sin ever eager to fulfill his service to his favorite mortal.

 

[turtwigwins]

Act I - Odaden Moves To War

Turn 1 - Year 912 - Early Summer


View attachment Creon912EarlySummer.png

Althreiell Campaign
The vast swath of plains of Ostermarka and Fairwych lead into the woodlands of Luminae. Originally kin to the nation of Caliban, Luminae has gotten used to the imperial boot. The pragmatic Countess Alice Ashenbrook has navigated the integration well by pushing just enough for imperial tribute always on time, and respect of local practices. Baba Voyka and Aranea both march into the southern province with separate goals in mind for the lands of Althreiell, but both with keen interests in mind. The Althreiell elves, although originally dismissive of the threat, now summon an army to protect the border of Hatia. Meanwhile, the bandit queen of Frostfell sits quiet, the cold frozen trees of the east at a still.

===Allied Forces===

Baba Voyka, The Warsome Grandmother
Try and Take It // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Luminae
Province Fertility: 6/6
Strength: 3
Cards:
Dreamwalker - Upon meeting on Neutral or Allied Ground for diplomacy, Baba may lure an enemy to sleep placing a -3 on them for character v character combat if not using hostile language in interaction before this. (Infinite Uses)
Environmental Expert - Baba and her troops are unaffected by weather cards and terrain related cards. (Infinite Uses)
Motherful Presence - A province will not revolt when Baba is present if it has below 10 disloyalty. (Infinite Uses)

Baba’s forces make camp outside the main city of the province Port Silver and while in incursions to town are originally met with open arms. The province has a bountiful supply of food, and while much that is taken away for the imperial war machine, the wages of the imperial soldiers bring many a business coin in their stay here. This original open armed treatment has grown sour as Baba notices more glares of hostility towards her men, and reports of a bar fight between her men and local Lunarans that was broken up and dispersed before she could arrive. From her men Baba hears of a local paper of the Silvermoon Daily whispering of a demonic host coming upon Caliban.

Leads:
Silvermoon Daily - Newspapers are something hard to come by in the mainland imperial provinces, but a center of knowledge would know of the power of words in the common man. Perhaps this paper has loyalties to external powers, and could be intimidated into giving their pathways of information.
Countess Ashenbrook’s Soire - Baba is invited by the countess to the local castle for a fancy gathering celebrating the new warmth of summer. She gathers that many of the local nobles, religious leaders, and wealthy merchants will be in attendance.

Aranea, the Mind Weaver
Everywhere at Once // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Luminae
Province Fertility: 6/6
Strength: 3
Cards:
Psychic Web - For every 3 subordinates (who have been inducted to web) in charge of a province Aranea gains another action to use. (Infinite Uses)
Induction to the Web - Aranea may use an action to induct a subordinate into her neural web. From this she will see and hear any interactions they take, and physically communicate across the realm. (Infinite Uses, this consumes an action for turn)
Telepathy - Every turn Aranea may choose an NPC in a bordering province and has a 1/4 chance to know their action for the turn.

Aranea’s men camp in the wooded lands near the border of Hatia with the river that separates Luminae and Hatia being a strong denotation of where Odaden land begins. With thick woods on either side scouting expeditions rarely catch sight of one another, and when they do no skirmishes have occurred with the two sides preferring for now to not risk their lives. From the rural villages near the border Aranea hears murmurings of fear or amazement at her presence reach her ears.

Leads:
The Huntsman - From her troops Aranea hears tales of a local huntsmen with renowned prowess. Upon one of the trips for supplies a soldier reports to Aranea the man wishes for her to come and have a meal.
Send Them Fear - Althreiell is known little for their combat prowess. The rumors of a giant arachnid are enough to spread fear. Aranea figures that she could amplify this effect through her powers. What if that vision of herself was also in their dreams?

===The Enemy===

Luthais Cailamin, the Marshal of Feathers
With Guile and Cunning // A Master of the Art // A Reckoning for the Wicked
Location: Hatia
Strength: 3

Luthais is known for having a talent for the bow and showmanship. To the elves of Althreiell his precise aim and keen eye that has hunted down many birds of all different patterns of flight and hiding has given him his title as the marshal of feathers. Luthais personally grows in deep concern as the armies of Odaden amass upon the border. While having a geographic knowledge of the woods the men under Luthais’s command are still green to war. Still, as long as his men can hold a crossing against the river they will have a high chance of success. Luthais only hopes that the scholars of the homeland do not underestimate the threat that Odaden poses.

Freyja Stormveil, the Bandit Queen
Liberate the Materiel // Come What May // Never Surrender
Location: Frostfell
Strength: 2
Cards:
Ice Storm - Upon victory in combat in Winter turns Freyja has a 1/2 chance to inflict 2 tokens damage (Infinite Uses)

Freyja receives the tides of imperial banners in Luminae with indifference. If they want to fight their war with Althreiell she will let them. Why come strike at an opponent when their wealth would flow through the province either way. Besides those who are eager to display their strength would find it worn down. The Bandit queen manages her men normally for now, the dues being paid as those who dare to trek through dreary Frostfell give tribute to her domain. Still the doubt lingers in her mind of this being a show of a greater lurking imperial ambition.

South-Western Campaign
Upon reaching their agreement of the division of Caliban the armies of Einar and Nanissis travel in tandem to the birthplace of the empire Odaden. The rolling countryside of the land is accompanied by the wooded coast alongside the southern ocean. Prince Kirin, the younger brother of the Emperor seems to rule with only a light touch upon the people. To the west the vast rolling plains of Budagyar are home to a much more nomadic life. While the armies in Odaden may be replenished by the hard work of peasants, the work in the land of the centaurs seems to be hunting for your own.


===Allied Forces===

Nanissis Yevro, The Poisonous Tongue
Meals from the Field // The One and Only // Drenched in Death
Location: Odaden
Province Fertility: 7/7
Strength: 3
Cards:
Poisonous Tongue - Nanissis agitates a province leading to a +3 in disloyalty. (Infinite Uses, once per 3 turns)
The Discontents are Rewarded - After taking control of a province which has had the Poisonous Tounge Card used it on previously Nanissis can take a free recruit a subordinate action to govern the province that same turn. (infinite Uses)
Lightning Raids - The first time attacking a general Nanissis can choose to receive a +2 to the attack. (3 Uses)

Nanissis and his troops make home outside the former capital of Odaden. The food seems to have been well prepared and few have issues in finding mouths to feed. Although the flat countryside is set up for farming the centaurs under his command have found some small enjoyments in interactions with the land. The inner city itself seems one that has had only a minor corruption when compared to the capital. Still a thing of interest when Nanissis is visiting a winehouse in the upper district of the city of Odaden is the seeming banter between the faith of Solaman and the Faith of the Seven. The agitation that is seen often between religions seems to be an amicable relationship here. There are also opportunities for sin that his men explore with bars, beers, and brothels being common expenditures of their imperial coin.

Leads: A Warm Welcome - Two priestesses, one of the faith of the seven scantily clad, and one of Solman invite Nanissis to explore his philosophy at the Red Dawn, a Solman church known for being in a less reputable part of the city.
Zealous Enthusiasm - Some of the Solman faith are eager for the campaign against Caliban. The priests seem to view this as a divine reckoning against their rivals. Perhaps some talking in front of a crowd could use this to an advantage.


Einar Jaddeth, The Brutal Bastard
Meals from the Field // The One and Only // Break their Spirits
Location: Odaden
Province Fertility: 7/7
Strength: 3
Cards:
Raze the Traitors - Upon a successful attack Einar may choose to raze one of the fertility of the province, leading to +2 disloyalty in the province attacked (Infinite Uses)
Brutal Vengeance - Upon losing a defensive combat, Einar has a +1 to attack versus that same opponent the next turn. (Infinite Uses)
Make Use of What We Have - Einar's troops can go over the fertility of a province by 2 and not suffer any negative effects. (Infinite Uses)

Einar’s men make their camp further downward in the province. His troops investigate into the river that might permit an opportunity for a swift attack. In this time Einar is reminded of the rural hardship people have to endure. What might be more irritating to him however, is the preferential treatment it seems that Odaden has been receiving. The people who still complain over giving rations to his army seem healthy and full of muscle. Is the Sunfather truly blessing these people, or has Regis become lax on his own brother's taxes? Einar’s men notice Caliban's presence with occasional reports of raids from the woods upon farmsteads, and it seems that the moon elves have made plans of their own in defense.

Leads:
Reminder For The People - The people of Odaden are too cheery for their own good, imperial might is something that takes what it wants.
Trickle Down - The river that leads to the city of Odaden also flows down into the lands of Caliban. All use this water, and all drink of it.


Kypher M. Solari, The Lazy General
Everywhere At Once // Symphony of War // Break their Spirits
Location: Budagyar
Province Fertility: 4/4
Strength: 3
Cards:
Pattern Recognition - The longer in continual battle with an opponent the better the ability to recognize their weaknesses. For every turn in combat with an opponent, either Kypher attacking them or them attacking you Kypher will receive a stacking +1 advantage the next turn on the next combat. This can only stack up to a +3, and if there is a turn where neither side engages in combat against one another the stack is reset to 0. (Infinite Uses)
Officer's Club - The illustrious general inspires loyalty among his officers and men. Any province that Kypher is in will receive a -1 to disloyalty per turn, note can choose not to have this used. (Infinite Uses)

The province of Budagyar tests the strength of Kyphers men. While many of the men wish to emulate their general and his laziness, hard work is put to the test with having to track down the roaming centaur tribes subjugated under Regis for food, or scurrying off to do their own hunts in their land. Although there are a few settlements, these mainly rely on hunting as a method of securing their own food. To the West the tribes of the Nalunali seem to make the situation worse with posturing between them and subjugated tribes often shifting where the border of Odaden truly lies. To the south the Velorians have taken up arms as a show of force. Although one would be a fool to think Veloria would be the aggressor a message of strength is being shown clearly.

Leads:
Teach Us the Way - The people of Budagyar seem open to teaching the nomadic ways of the steppe plains, and are happy to take on a new student of prominence.
The White Gazelle - Reports of a mystical gazelle stocking the lands are talked about throughout the local tribes of the area, perhaps this is something that Kypher could find himself?

===The Enemy===

Valindra Redmoon, the Blood Moons Blade
Liberate the Materiel // A Master of the Art // A Reckoning for the Wicked
Location: Moondar
Strength: 3
Cards:
The Cycle of the Blood Moon - Upon 3 successful victories in battle Lunara blesses Valindra’s forces. If Valindra had lost a token during this time she may heal one token as the wounded come back to fight again. (Infinite Uses)

Valindra was always known for having a brash attitude and hot temperament in her homeland of Moondar. Prone to violent outbursts many thought her as one who would create great disunity. The church of Lunara saw the confidence behind such eyes and so did the Goddess eventually after years of training granting her the blessings of the Blood Moon. Feeding to her violent tendencies she has pushed back attempts towards Caliban from various neighbors in the past. Riding her tamed Direwolf Valindra strikes hard and fast towards enemies who enter her woods. Eager for the challenge of another imperial upon her doorstep her troops conduct small raids into Odaden. As she rests after a night of drinking with her men Valindra has trouble sleeping as she thirsts for the battles to come.

Isobole Vadalas, the Duchess of Diplomacy
To Weather the Storm // A Master of the Art // A Truth Unassailable
Location: Veloria
Strength: 4
Cards:
Time Through Words - Upon a diplomacy action being received or sent and responded to, the one who engaged in the diplomacy with Isobole has a -1 to attack against her for that turn and the following turn. Additionally Isobole cannot be forced into combat at neutral locations. (Infinite Uses)

Isobole has had her country prosper through funding and selling to the imperial war machine. One thing that the Duchess has never allowed to be disputed is her sovereignty. As the imperial banners march on either side the men of Veloria rise ready to defend should the empire decide it has no use for their trade any longer. Isobole still thinks that the relationships built can be something that guarantees her kingdom safety. Long friends with Prince Kirin, she believes that a strike against Veloria is not on the priorities of Regis. She only needs to keep diverting attention, and all empires fall sooner or later.

Hectemnon, the Thundering Spear
Liberate the Materiel // Colleagues in Arms // A Reckoning for the Wicked
Location: Nalunali
Strength: 3
Cards:
Hectemnon is a massive centaur known for his thundering approach as he raids and pillages farmsteads and rival tribes alike. Taking great baths and indulging in many a woman, and devouring of many a meat Hectemnon enjoys what he considers simple pleasures in life. However, his brute intelligence still realizes that the rising threat of Odaden may soon try to subjugate his tribe. Forming alliances with those around him in mutual protection against those who have already sworn allegiance to the imperial might Hectemnon offers his own strength as the defiant shield. This might have been spurred on by the three cities who offer coins freely with the recognition of service against Odaden. Why have to worry about war on two fronts when you could become wealthy from the pockets of both with only a fight on one side?


North-Western Campaign
To the northern part of the realm a set of threats engulf the boldest of the empire Richard who rests in Kaslia with greenskin and goblin raiders knocking on the doorstep and the distrusting Padorian fleet ready to blockade at a moments notice he may soon have to rely on those around him. In a keen position to provide support is Jannaxes who sits upon the province of the crossroads, a prosperous land for the tolls that its rivers extract and in between the trade cities of Kaslia, Pinterra, and Padoria as well as northern realms when they want to come towards the heartland of Osyne. It is also a keen position to bring support to the generals around him, something the Whisper of Sin is all too familiar with. To the south sits Oneiruth the princeling returned home. Discontent from those who favored his brother still lingers, as well as those whose powers have diminished with his pact. Jack Bower to the North has found perhaps the most promising position in Pinterra, the weakened Mudkadi open for the taking and a people of Aberhald who Jack thinks he can make an interesting gamble to.


===Allied Forces===

Onieruth, The Usurper of Argalis
Try and Take It // The One and Only // Drenched in Death
Location: Argalis
Province Fertility: 3/5
Strength: 3
Cards:
Princeling of Argalis - starts with control of the province of Argalis, one subordinate in place.
Accursed Pact - Leads will occur with patron, following these could grant boons, and ignoring them lead to punishments.
Magic Devourer - Magical cards are ineffective against Onieruth, either lowering in power or completely failing at GM discretion.

The land of Argalis slowly turns quiet as the tyrannical rule of their Prince has taken hold. The magic that once ruled the land proudly now withers to the power of their prince who makes this land his home with his otherworldly patron. The same can be said with the population who work tirelessly to build the fields of the land to the flourishing wheat it was before the civil conflict. There are still those in the populace few that whisper of vengeance for his brother Janus upon the usurper, and rumors of meetings of those who plan to take vengeance upon the usurper prince. The ancient ruins of past old gods and their temples seem to be a keen part of this scheming against the prince. Seeing the weakened state of the land the goblin tribes of Gurlap raid the land pillaging before fleeing back to their homes.

Leads: A Loyal Subject - One of your subjects informs you of some of the remaining magi populace scheme as an underground organization in the ruins of the old gods. He claims he can lead you to these discontents, but it is a trap.
Follow The Tracks - Although the raids of Gurlap do not assist in any attempts to restore the province to prosperity, the carelessness of these raiders leads to heavy tracks being laid back into Gurlap assuming none would care to follow them.

Subordinates

John Smith, Castellan of Argalis
X // X // X
Province: Argalis
Strength: 0
Economic: 3/3
Technological 0/1
Fertility: 3/5
Manpower 0/2
Disloyalty 5/20

Richard, The Lionheart
Try and Take It // Symphony of War // Chessmaster
Location: Kaslia
Province Fertility: 5/5
Strength: 3
Cards:
Resilient Lion - When losing to an enemy with more army tokens Richard has a 1/3 chance of not losing an army token. (Infinite Uses)
Golden Boy of the Empire - Richard can attack an internal imperial provinces leader in combat, and if winning assume the province under his control. The empire will not intervene, viewing it as an internal dispute. (2 Uses)
Stand Proud Men - Richard's and the men he commands are immune to Fear Effect Cards

Kaslia welcomes the protection offered by the Lionheart as they are beset by enemies on all sides. While supplies and trade flow steadily throughout the country now with only the occasional missing ship bringing a reminder of their pirate neighbors to the west in Padoria. Lord Wilmar Rudolf is grateful for the protection offered and allows a great amount of housing in the inner port city to the troops of Richard. From the outer lands of the province, however, persistent pleas are heard by the army for protection from the grinning wolves. Also seen in his patrols to the frontiers are a small population of half-orcs that seem prevalent in the outer lands of the land, with a seeming resentment for both their neighbors and the Grinning Wolves who led to many of their creations.

Leads:
Protection of the Frontier - Upon one of his travels to the outskirts bordering the land of Wolven Richard sees a man of Templars of the Frontier waving a banner of parlay.
The Shadows - An underground fighting ring has slowly gained in popularity among the province's outcasts and renegades. Among the participants one Half-Orc has begun making quite the name for himself who begins each fight with calling for death to the Grinning Wolves.


Jannaxes, Whisperer of Sin
Everywhere at Once // Nothing is Safe // Chessmaster
Location: The Crossroads
Province Fertility: 8/8
Strength: 3
Cards:
Corruption - Jannaxes offers favors with little ask in return, but once accepting the taint slowly spreads. Accepting a favor adds corruption to the character. A d20 is rolled each turn seeing if this corruption spreads to the province the character is in. If the number is equal to or lower to the corruption score, the province gains a corruption. Latent Power is gained each turn in accordance to province corruptions.
Lessor Favor - Costing 5 latent power. Gives minor boon as agreed with GM. Adds 1 corruption to character.
Medium Favor - Costing 10 latent power. Gives minor boon as agreed with GM. Adds 2 corruption to character.
Greater Favor - Costing 15 latent power. Gives minor boon as agreed with GM. Adds 3 corruption to character.
My Dear Puppet - For every corruption gained by a character Jannaxes gains a 3% chance of being able to use their action. Jannaxes may choose to use this every turn if he is within 2 provinces of the corrupted character. Note the action must always be something the person can see as to their interest.
Characters Corrupted - Regis (9), Kirin (1)
Provinces Corruption - Odaden (2), Osyne (6)
Accumulated Latent Power - 10

The crossroads are the crossing for much trade and travel along the empire. The Lady of this land Countess Aralia Crosswood makes efficient use of this with various castle crossings set up along the river paths offering both protection for travelers and coins for her pockets. Additionally these rivers offer quite an amount of arable farmland while the savannah like plains surrounding offer a variety of meats for the coming travelers. The location could not be more ideal for a resting army with trade from the western trade cities coming through along with the northern realms of Lovona and Aberhald and flowing to the heart of the empire in Osyne. Jannaxes mens are efficiently camped along the crossings and are well fed, but it does not seem to create a great stir among the people. What it does offer is a great staging ground as the taverns that rest along these lines lead to rumors aflowing a plenty.

Leads:
The Duel of the River Knights - Two rival knights, each claiming to be the rightful protector of the river crossing Wardford, have issued a challenge to each other. Aralia seems entirely disinterested in the matter.
Tavern Rumors - The Crossroads are home to many travelers who have loose lips after a few too many drinks. Although mostly gossip the occasional truth may be something Jannaxes could exploit.

Jack Bower, The Cheat
Try and Take It // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Pinterra
Province Fertility: 3/3
Strength: 3
Cards:
The Deck is in my Favor - Jack may redefine his 3 battle leadership strategies (Infinite, once per 4 turns)
All-In Gambit - Jack may choose to make a gamble in which the total amount of army tokens in his army will be either inflicted on the enemy or lost on his own army up to the enemy's strength. (1 Use)
Slip Away - Assuming Jack does not die in character combat if Jack's entire army dies and Jack has a subordinate he may return to their province alive. (2 Uses)

Pinterra gives Jack and his host of men a less than appreciative acceptance upon their arrival to the port city. The smallest of the western trade cities and with little thought of threat towards their neighbors Jack's company finds little in the way of open tavern doors. The only arms that seem to be quite open to Jack are those of the beggars who seem to frequent the streets of this city in squalor and a sickness of echoing coughs. In the outer lands of the province men rely more on hunting, but the main source of food seems to come from the fishermen along the coast. The goblins of Mudkadi seem to not notice the presence of Jack’s troops while Aberhald stands vigilant with patrols as a show of strength.

Leads:
Public Decency Project - Perhaps the people of Pinterra would be more open to the company of imperial banners if they were willing to do something about the beggars that crowded their walkways with their filth.
The Echoes of the Past - An old ruined tower outside Pinterra has been the source of strange noises and sightings.


===The Enemy===

Nicholas Manolov, Heart of Aberhald
To Weather the Storm // Colleagues in Arms // A Truth Unassailable
Location: Aberhald
Strength: 3
Cards:
Family is Our Bond - If Nicholas should fall one of his six sons will replace him with equal battlefield leadership capabilities (6 Uses)

Nicholas Manolov looks towards Odaden, wary of their imperial ambition. The plains of Aberhald are tended to with a rigor of befitting the eyes of Farin, god of family. Unusual to their fields however is the stomping patrols of soldiers as Nicholas has enlisted many of the working men to serve against the Odaden threat. As Jack sits in Pinterra Nicholas waits for the halfman to make his first move towards his home. It is only a hope that the conflict is over soon and that Odaden can forget their ambitions for his lands. The kingdoms of the north are an option he doesn’t want to consider as well, and the powerful King Lovona is almost an equal worry to his land.

Ulx Wheatmaker, The Agrarian
With Guile and Cunning // A Master of the Art // A Truth Unassailable
Location: Mudkadi
Strength: 2
Cards:

Although not one to be afraid of war, after the defeat by Jorvan Lovona in years past Ulx slowly began developing Mudkadi into a more agrarian state. With little worth in the land of Mudkadi the neighboring nations have begun to begin more amicable diplomacy with that of the civilized goblin Ulx. Ulx does not have too much concern for the army in Pinterra thinking they must be directed elsewhere, but those of the old guard have formed militias to defend that of their land.

Kakorm Bittersteel, The Persistent Plunderer
Everywhere at Once // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Gurlap
Strength: 3
Cards:

Kakorm is not known as the most feared of goblinkind, but his keen mind for raiding has made many flock to his banner. With little in professional weaponry and units made of makeshift armories from that which they have stolen. The goblins find ways of skirmishing in favorable terrain to be of their biggest advantage. Quick hit and run accidents are prevalent for those who dare travel into the province and those of the surrounding provinces. Kakorm thinks the armies upon his doorstep are unideal for certain, but his leadership must continue through consistent raids whether there is resistance or not. The way of life of a goblin does not change.

Nograk, The Bone Flayer
Meals from the Field // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Wolven
Strength: 4
Cards:
Break in Fear - When attacking against Nograk armies have a 1/3 chance to lose a token out of fear, deserting before the battle begins.

Nograk and his warband make the lower grasslands a home of their debauchery. Although a land that could be quite farmable itself the orks of the grinning wolves know one thing, tormenting. Taking sadistic pleasure they consistently raid, pillage, assault, and force themselves upon those who surround them. Riding massive wolves and making messages of wherever they go incites fear to all who stand against them. Nograk laughs in his chamber where he has slaves from past conquests tending to his massive bath upon hearing of Richard coming to Kaslia. The wolves will descend and make their barbarity known to another victim soon enough.

Chilfroy Pontier, The Warden of the Frontier
To Weather the Storm // Colleagues in Arms // Never Surrender
Location: Chivar
Strength: 3
Cards:

The frontier of Chivar is a province not unbearable with rolling plains and freshwater that leads to easy farming. The issue lies with those who seek to take from what they have made in the land. Chilfroy has led to at least some stability in the land forming the Templars of the Frontier who hold back the raiders and nomads who try to pillage and enslave from the working folk of the land. Chiflroy views the arrival of Richard with mixed emotions. Is the man set on defeating the evil of the land, or merely another slaver who he must guard against.

Lucile Morren, The Golden Hair Admiral
With Guile and Cunning // Colleagues in Arms // A Truth Unassailable
Location: Padoria
Strength: 3
Cards:
Blockade Their Ports - Lucile can choose to blockade the ports of a tile that has a water connection to her province. This results in a draining of 1 fertility to her command per turn from the province.

Lucile Morren has grown a wide reputation for her exploits both as a trader and pirate. Her golden hair many have claimed is a sign from the gods of the wealth that she was bound to obtain in her life. Lucile is a cunning figure managing both politics of the royal family of Padoria as well as the loyalties of her ship captains. Lucile views carefully the broader picture of the imperial ambition, and worries that should Richard try and fail there will be another general sent to fill his place. Perhaps it is better to make a message of Kaslia and strike first. The only thing that holds her back is the greed of profits. Many captains would be frustrated to not be able to do business in Kaslia.

Agbal Damu, Triumvir of the North
To Weather the Storm // Come What May // Never Surrender
Location: Kizka
Strength: 4
Cards:

Agbal looks upon the imperial fronts with a contentedness. The threat of imperial might has allowed them to stop worrying about one front as the Nalunali present a deterrent. Instead his focus is turned to the goblin and orc tribes specifically with a fear of the grinning wolves. His fields are at a great harvesting time and the fertile crescent of the north can hopefully fend off any would be invaders from their homelands. The forts built across the land lead to a great defense against these raiders, but the keen eyes of the Kizka people need to spot the raiders to make it to these establishments.

Pescon Campaign
Munsie and Ahkmenohtep start with a distaste towards each other in their mouths as they both contest over the favor of the province of Pescon. Instead they now both are deep in the swamplands of Tobyou. Luckily for the armies is that Ahkmenotheps is of the dead as the murky waters and lands of Tobyou can only support so many with the food that is available. While it seems neither of the two want to march into the forests of Antinia, Pescon seems to have noticed this as well.

===Allied Forces===

Ahkmenohtep, The Exiled Lich
Meals from the Field // The One and Only // Chessmaster
Location: Tobyou
Province Fertility: 4/4
Strength: 3
Cards:
Army of the Dead - Ahkmenohtep upon defeating an enemy force and occupying their province, or losing a living unit may raise an army token of the dead. Note: Using this card will consume the turn action of Ahkmenohtep. Undead tokens use only .25 ferility of land per turn. (Infinite Uses)
Voices to the Dead - Ahkmenohtep is able to talk to the dead assuming their soul is still in existence. He may ask 3 questions which the soul is compelled to answer truthfully. After this has been used on a soul it may not be used again. (Infinite Uses - Once Per 3 Turns)
Your Soul is Mine - If this card is in play and Ahkmenohtep wins a battle, he will possess the enemy commander's soul, instantly defeating their army. (2 Uses)

The people of Tobyou are what is called Toadu or the Toad-People and are quite a superstitious bunch of individuals. Thus when a horde of Undead skeletons came into land the response was to shut doors and hide into their own swamplands. Ahkmenohtep sees painted marks of warding across many homes of the land who fear his march. Ultimately it lets him make moves in the land uncontested.

Leads:
Avatar of Death - A select religion of the land welcomes Ahkmenohtep as the avatar of death. With a reverent bow one of their Toadu priests adorned in dark cloak and skull markings offers the Lich to come into a shadowed ceremony.
The Whispering Willows - A grove of ancient willow trees in the swamps is said to whisper secrets to those who listen carefully.


Munsie Moldive, The Beast Tamer
Everywhere at Once // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Tobyou
Province Fertility: 4/4
Strength: 3
Cards:
On the Hunt - For every victory against a general/subordinate Munsie gains a permanent +1 to future attacks against them, max of +2 (Infinite Uses)
Beast Tamer - More beast related cards for exotic and dangerous beasts are available to Munsie with positive effects.
Trackers Eye - Munsie can target and find key dissidents leading to -2 disloyalty (Infinite Uses, Once per 3 turns)

The Toadu welcome the army of Munsie much more openly then their undead counterparts. Taverns honed into massive trees of the swamp show a greater ingenuity of using the land to their own advantage. Additionally there seems to be a whole profession of swamp boaters who lead those of the groups around the swamp via their small wooden boats. Munsie wonders of the defensive implications of this place with the twists and turns the Toadu shows her as they guide their boats along the land.

Leads:
The Ghostly Green Mist - A mysterious green mist has begun to spread through the swamps at night, bringing strange dreams and visions to those who breathe it in.
Factional Democracy - A faction of Pescon has sent a representative to Munsies camp under the banner of parlay. Perhaps the peasants aren’t so keen for war afterall.

===The Enemy===

Perwin, The Peacemaker
To Weather the Storm // Colleagues in Arms // Never Surrender
Location: Pescon
Strength: 2
Cards:

Perwin the peacemaker was chosen for his ability to lead and communicate across a disunified democracy. With the common voice being that which makes every decision he has found it hard to summon a great army to defend his home even as the militant factions of the democracy note the reports of the great host upon their doorstep. With little military knowledge, the army is held up by individuals of great strength who have moved to Pescon with the dream of a democratic vision. The vast open assembly chambers clamber with discussion on steps for every issue of the land, and while Perwin tries to focus back to the more pressing he is almost in a perpetual headache. Will the factions which bicker amongst themselves with fervor on the aims of the imperials upon their doorsteps make a greater step towards defense if they are able to hold against a first attack?

 

[dikdik]

The light of the morning had yet to pierce the drab, gray coldness of the fog settling into the rolling countryside where Einar’s army had made camp. Though the air was thick and wet with the heavy humidity, Einar still woke, still walked, more paced than usual, Hedinn following in tow without having been saddled yet this morning. The horse’s breath released in a huff, a cloud of vapor trailing from his nostrils. Einar cracked just a hint of a smile as he turned to the stallion and paused, waiting on his lazy steps to catch up before scratching right between his ears, his cropped mane prickling Einar’s fingers. The horse was massive, impressively strong, yet prone to wander about without a purpose unless he sensed one in Einar. With a deep breath, his wait for dawn complete, Einar turned back to his camp after having wandering its edges, pondering his army’s observations, and his own, on his path back to the center of his camp, his own quarters prepared with a fresh change of clothing and breakfast waiting for him on the table.

Having spent some time making camp in the countryside, Einar had been reminded of his own time spent in the fields as his army marched through and past them. Though, these fields seemed particularly well to do. Blight hadn’t struck, farmers seemed to lack a certain desperation produced when you realized your entire family was starving, and though the people seemed to be thriving in a way not expected of a peasantry confined to the fields, they were relentless with their complaint of the army’s levying rations. Whether the peasants were actually blessed with an abundant harvest, or they were given preferential treatment, Einar couldn’t tell. Whichever it was, it inspired an anger in him. They didn’t understand the struggle of working the fields in the pouring rain as a child a week from starvation. Even though they were blind to the realities of working the land, he’d nothing to prove to them. He couldn’t take their livelihood from them, though it was tempting. They were too reflective of his own past to punish. Every farming village was one terrible harvest away from death. They’d find their struggle. Perhaps not this summer. But perhaps the next. Privileged fucking bastards.

But the river. The river could perhaps lend itself to a key strategic component of his and Nanissis’ offensive into Caliban, an offensive they’d discuss later in Odaden. Could the river create an ease of travel for the armies? Would poisoning it, destroying the rebellion before losing any life of his own, become a viable option? Or should he set forth into Moondar with the hope that the elves raiding the edges of Odaden would strike first, as their leader Valindra Redmoon, was a bloodthirsty bitch, perhaps reckless enough to over-extend her forces before the Generals could land an overwhelming strike? The elves surely deserved it, attempting to disrupt and harm the farming villages on the edges of Moondar and Odaden. A moment of blinding rage swelled through Einar’s throat and he caught himself clenching his jaw and fists shut while flames blurred the edges of his vision before Hedinn smacked the side of his head with a whiskered muzzle and a huff. Einar released his tension and looked back at the horse, who abruptly left and trotted to the stablehand to be saddled for the day. Einar was already back at his tent, losing a bit of time in his thoughts.

The tent was a simple shape, a circular base with a pointed top, held together by free-standing poles delicately puzzled together and secured to the ground with rope. A single banner, his banner, black as night and ornamented with a silvery sword adorned in a set of sharp, abstract wings, was staked outside of the tent. He’d had the banner changed from his father’s red-and-gold shield set into a pair of angelic white wings. Too haughty, that was. Nothing about his father deserved such an ornate banner… or a banner at all.

With a deep exhale, Einar settled into a chair next to the table that held a dish of food left there by one of his staff. Bread. Fruit. Salted pork. Wine. Nothing felt particularly appetizing but he ate it all anyways. He’d be away from camp for several hours at least and was unsure when he’d eat again. The wine had a soured aroma, one he recognized as spoil. A sudden pang of rage came over him, but a pang easily controlled. Whether intentional or accidental, this was a mistake careless and unwelcome in such a camp as his. Careless mistakes killed if they were made at the wrong time, especially at war. Forget changing into something more appropriate for his meeting with Nanissis in Odaden. This was the wrong fucking time. Sliding his boot knife from its sheath and reverse-gripping it in a fist, he drew in a deep breath of the thick air before striding out of his tent.

“Excuse you all?” He screamed at the bustling and busy space just outside his tent, rendering a hard stop in everyone’s movement. They all stared at him as they paused. “Who the fuck poured that wine?” No one offered an answer. “As far as I can tell, every single one of you poured that wine unless one of you fucking answers me.”

That did it. A timid hand was raised as a man slowly made his way towards Einar through the others, still frozen and unmoving. Horror licked its way over his face as he trembled. The man fell to the grass, softly begging forgiveness through tears, ignored. Einar grabbed him by a fistful of hair, yanked him to his knees, and slowly dragged the knife through the man’s throat before he collapsed into a garbling mess on the ground, convulsing before finding stillness.

The bustling returned after only moments of silence following the execution; people dragging the corpse away, continuing about their business delivering, cooking, cleaning, preparing. Einar wiped the knife clean on the leg of his black trousers before returning it to its sheath and pacing to Hedinn, who was waiting at the stablehand’s workstation. The boy looked a bit frightened, though steeled himself enough to hand the reins to Einar without a tremble. He had been out of view of the incident in front of Einar’s quarters, though he’d have noticed the blood that had dribbled across Einar’s hand and spluttered across his clothing, black flecks finding their way up to the pale skin of Einar’s neck. No time to clean up, I’m already late for this fucking meeting. Hedinn seemed to understand that there was a rush, and the horse cantered out of the camp, towards Odaden with naught but a pat on the neck. Breath of Eden rested in the scabbard, as usual, and clattered a bit as the horse’s gate extended upon reaching the road to the city.

The grandeur of a city was something that would never be lost on Einar. Stone structures, aqueducts, colors, actual paved streets. It would always feel a stranger to him. More a stranger to him was the wealth and class in such a place, especially given Nanissis had chosen the venue for this meeting. The elf had a sense of the exquisite, the lofty. Though Einar was not particularly the type to indulge in the posh and elegant, this was the one exception. He’d never set foot in a brothel that didn’t feel like it was suited for a god. And this one? Oh, it was.

Einar dismounted Hedinn just outside, giving him a pat on the shoulder before turning to enter the building. Atop a bit of a hill with a glorious look at the city below, the extravagance of the place was evident in its gardens, its lanterns, the magnificent high arch of the doorway leading into a space serving complimentary wine, with more feather pillows laced in colorful velvet than the rest of the city owned in combination, he was sure.

And there the General was. Fuck being late.

“Afternoon, Nanissis. Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to attend to a bit of a surprise this morning.”

 

[Abstracty]

"... and honestly, we didn't even bother to clean up all that honey and the feathers, because funnily enough it was the exact same spot where that lazy-eyed mayor and me had... oh, my apologies, I will have to tell you some other time how I ended up with a pumpkin stuck around my head. Funny that it happened twice, now that I think about it.", Nanissis could barely contain himself, a wide grin as he regaled his companions with yet another boastful tale. He was slumped on the single largest pillow in the entire establishment, a deep purple one with golden embroiderings and silver cords. To his right, cups and decanters were littering around a small table on which an unnecessarily large and bulbous hookah rested. Almost falling off his pillow at that side was a young woman, laughing along to the Elfs tales while caressing his chest. Her red hair was long and messy and her eyes quickly told of how much wine she must have already indulged in. The thin breath of fabric covering her was merely a see-through bit of nothing and she only had one golden slipper left. To Nanissis left resided a muscular, chiseled man of dark complexion on a smaller pillow, equally dazed and with his bald head resting on Nanissis belly, where the Elf softly caressed it. The man looked up towards Einar, who had just entered the colorful palace of sin and both Generals recognized each other around the same time.

"My dear General Einar... are you late? I hardly even noticed, don't beat yourself up over a few minutes...", he cheekily replied with a very satisfied grin all over his face. "I saved you a fine seat, I just forgot where it is.", Nanissis continued and after looking around, he simply shrugged. "Make yourself comfortable any way you would like. Can I offer you some wine? Perhaps some pine nuts to get some motion in the ocean? I have tried the oysters here and honestly, they aren't even fresh. We must conquer Moondar soon, at least they have direct access to some seafood there.", he acted like he owned the whole place, extending his arms in a welcoming motion, which almost caused the woman to fall over. "My apologies, dear. Its time for me to talk with my guest in private. I will buy you some new shoes eventually...", he dismissed his purchased company, which meant they could quickly rearrange the pillows a little. "So... you had to attend a surprise? I would quite like to hear about that surprise, because I heard those are quite en vogue at the current moment. We ought to surprise the Calibanians, but instead they raid us... I expect to find only brow-beaten monks of the Solmans here and instead the city is a wonderful delight after all! But what surprises me the most...", he joyfully chattered away until he made a dramatic change in tone and paused. "What surprises me the most is that you are already bloodied up! Did I miss some of the fun? Were you rough with your first partner of the day or was her red flower blooming? You little savage, you... I need details... copious amounts!", he didn't act like it was an official meeting he himself had requested.

 

[dikdik]

What Einar wasn’t expecting was how early in the day the elf indulged in such debauchery as what he’d walked into. He caught himself staring just a moment too long as Nanissis chided him, purchased affections sprawled about him, no doubt having consumed quite the goblet of wine perhaps a bit too early in the day for Einar’s taste. Ah, but what snapped him from his bit of a daze was the elf’s use of his first name. They’d been over this before. That simply wasn’t permissible, but Nanissis seemed the type to acknowledge and ignore in every moment thereafter. Still worth a reminder. “Jaddeth is fine, if you’d please. And dare I say I’m over an hour past your summoning, Nanissis.” Just a tiny bit of venom pumped into the elf’s name. Gods above, the General’s utter degeneracy, the carafes upon carafes, the smattering of just outright ridiculousness. A woman with one slipper. The man, dazed yet fully aware.

“Wine would suffice.” Einar said blandly through Nanissis’ musings and theatricality. “Might not serve to speak plainly in such a house.” He figured none of the purchased abstractions of people would care to remember of what they spoke. They’d certainly heard more terrible secrets and keep to themselves. Eventually, the elf dismissed his comforts and they fixed up what one could imagine resembled a meeting space upon some sort of elaborate couch. Though he’d been to such an establishment, akin to a palace yet wrought with sins, something felt so strange about the place. Perhaps the outrageous comforts and luxuries afforded by the wealthy in contrast to his experiences as a youth. The chittering of the elf continued and continued and continued to eventually it ceased with a jab at the splattered, dried crimson upon Einar’s black tunic and trousers. He’d forgotten it’s flecks had reached up at his throat, pressing their way to his jaw and lingering in the bottom of his black, unkempt curls. Einar was nearly offended by Nanissis’ assertion that this had anything to do with his escapades before recognizing the words were leaking from the mouth of the prince of poison tongues.

Einar plopped into the pillows a few feet from Nanissis, sinking into them as he stretched out his arm, gesturing for wine and being obliged by a thin little thing, brown hair curling around her narrow shoulders, ears just pointed at the tips, flowing and sheer shift hardly covering any of her body, the fabric reminiscent of the fog of the morning. Part of him was almost surprised a simply gesture could formulate such a request, but he quickly forgot his pondering after taking a deep and slow whiff at the wine, purple and dark as night, its aroma floating upwards in a floral and distinct manner. It disappeared just as quickly as it had arrived, the alcohol in it stark and strong.

“Nothing to do with this house of debauchery.” Einar replied starkly as the elf goaded him about his lack of cleanliness. The effects of the wine had found themselves settling into the pit of Einar’s stomach a bit too quick for comfort. He’d be cautious with how much more he consumed. “Some fuck poured me spoiled wine this morning. You know as well as any that such a careless mistake has a cost, especially while at war.” And his hand found itself gesturing for more. “You requested details, but I’m not sure you’d enjoy this sort of detail.” He huffed at himself, the words ringing a bit humorous. "Certainly could label it a little savage, but you know how the servants are. Anywho, you requested my company, elf. I suppose it’s for strategizing? Or are you just wanting to participate in the debauchery with me?” He could fling a jest as quickly as Nanissis could. Though it may not be quite as waggish to Nanissis as his own would be. “I’ve taken notice of the river. Could prove useful. Or I could move into Moondar and attempt to bait the bitch into attack.” Einar’s eyes began wandering through the clutter of pillows and companions as he found himself sipping at the wine that materialized in his hands.

 

[Abstracty]

Raising both his hands in a defensive way, Nanissis smiled and acted innocent. "General Jaddeth, of course. I beg your pardon.", his voice sounded raspy as he spoke and it was hard to tell how sincere he was, although it certainly didn't sound like one of his usual quips either. "An hour flies by so quick in here. Much different compared to in the field, where we will make every minute count.", he could at least offer some reassurance that he would take their duties seriously, once they were in a more threatening situation. As for the company surrounding them, Nanissis seemed quite relaxed. He knew, that these were well trained individuals, well aware of how badly it would end for them if even a word of conversation left this room. He was also quite certain that they were avid worshippers of the Seven themselves, further adding to his seeming recklessness about what was spoken. "Do not worry yourself, they are the least of your concerns. As a matter of fact, they should relax you, please you, take away your worries... never add to them...", Nanissis was confident in what he told Einar.

Managing to provoke the other general to an acceptable level, he only took small sips of the wine now, slowly whiffing and swirling each time. "An attempt at poisoning so soon into our campaign...", he simply chuckled at Einars explanations at first. "Oh please. That is exactly the kind of detail I am interested in.", he even humoured him further, until he was pushed to discuss the business at hand. "Well... both!", he announced with a grandiose gesture and a wide grin, regarding the participation in debauchery or planning. "I couldn't think of a better place to discuss strategy. Everyone does it in a dull tent, surrounded by officers who seem to know it all because they waltzed through some antiquated academy... but you and I, we are different... we have been in the shit and found creative solutions - and places like this one only aid ones creativity!", he made it appear like there was some grander method to his madness. "The river? Do tell me how you would use it - is it a matter of transport or perhaps something else?", they got to more serious conversation, although he did notice Einars gaze wander from time to time, which meant Nanissis amused smirk was there to stay.

"I for one would prefer to bait that afformentioned bitch into overplaying her position. She has already raided the South and seems quite eager for more bloodshed. I intend to adress the fine people of these lands about it soon and make sure the other side hears it. We can't allow the Empire to be attacked so viciously, after all, can we?", the Elf went along with his fellow general, seemingly unbothered by anything previously said. "Sun and Moon can both be at each others throats for all I care... matter of fact, I intend to fan the flames of their conflict quite a bit. You probably wouldn't have guessed it in your wildest imagination, but some people can get quite riled up by my words. How absurd.", he continued to lay out his plan, unable to pass the opportunity for a little joke. "So... anything that gets them to attack us is appreciated and the river might be a key to that...", it seemed like Nanissis was most keen on Einar to move, but he wouldn't discard the River plan until he heard what it entailed.

All the while he talked, his eyes would occasionally wander around the place and once he felt like Einar had consumed an acceptable amount of wine, he gave a very obvious wave to a finely dressed dwarf, his beard woven into seven ornate plaits. "Do prepare what we had discussed earlier.", he let him know and the dwarf retreated after an elegant bow. Smiling deviously, Nanissis leaned a bit forward and clinked glasses with his colleague. "Perhaps we should also discuss our favorite wine at this opportunity. You said you would do fine with whatever was on offer, but I think our impending victory over the Redmoon Wolf Bitch calls for a proper celebration, so you have a chance to reconsider. I intend to parade her through the streets of this fine city naked and take her right on the steps towards the Sun Cathedral.", he seemed to get ahead of himself or perhaps unable to follow a serious conversation without an interjection.

 

[dikdik]

Nanissis rattled off answers and quips as quick as ever, much to Einar’s ado. His use of Einar’s last name felt a bit off-putting, though solely based in the uncertainty Einar felt about the elf’s tone. A tone he felt hadn’t been used by the elf in his presence. Not yet at least. Unable to read him, Einar continued sipping at the wine, strong as the North Wind blows, it was. Nanissis’ mention of poison caught Einar off guard, almost insulted, though in spite of himself, he sunk deeper into the pillows, finding himself remarkably relaxed. Was Nanissis aware that Einar had indeed considered poisoning the river, or was he implying the servant had attempted to poison him this morning?

“The wine wasn’t poisoned, it was spoiled.” Einar replied, straightforward. “And the servant that poured it was appropriately punished for such a foolish oversight.” But his mind continued to wander. Had he thought too highly of his men? Had one of them genuinely attempted to poison him? At least he’d destroyed an accomplice if they had. Now the others, they’d know he wouldn’t miss such a stupid attempt. “I demanded the moron make himself known, so he did. Took threatening to kill everyone in the courtyard first, but he did. Then I slit his throat in front of the others. You know how they are. They splutter blood everywhere once you’ve stuck them. Didn’t have time to clean it off after. I was already late.”

Late to this impeccable meeting. Where I’ve clearly indulged a bit too far, but can’t quite stop myself. And a third glass appeared in his hands as quickly as he’d finished the second. And he wouldn’t consider his deposing his father a creative solution. It was a vengeful and righteous one. Whatever, elf.

Nanissis made his preference of Einar’s action known. “I suggest I pursue both options. Perhaps the river has a crossing near Moondar they’d not expect us to use. I could send a party to investigate, and extend into Moondar after.” He’d hold his idea of poisoning the river to himself, though he’d rather use it as a crossing or strategic advantage than a way to destroy civilization inside Moondar, lest it have some consequence for his army in the future.

Einar chuckled generously at Nanissis’ suggestion that his words could prove quite bothersome to others. Einar’s consumption of a third glass of whatever the fuck they’d been feeding him rendered him a bit less collected than usual as he lounged about the pillows, slowly sinking into them more as the conversation lingered. Music, quiet but energetic, seemed to collect in the back of his mind, played in a corner of the dark yet colorful room. It inspired a moment of reflection, Memory of the glowing fog of dawn, the passive joys of trotting through a field, noticing the birds flocking at its edges; the softness of a hand tugging through his hair in the orange and purple glow of the dusk, a warm embrace. Nanissis’ sudden command to a dwarf pulled Einar from any wanderings of the mind as the elf clinked a glass to Einar’s fourth. He’d not quite realized that was his fourth, especially in such a short time, but let it be so. Something made him trust Nanissis in this house. Perhaps he could inspire Nanissis’ trust by allowing himself to relax just a bit here. Ah, favorite wines, such a petty topic of conversation… Oh. Oh, gods, Nanissis.

“That’s quite an… astounding reaction to a victory, Nanissis.” Einar’s eyes widened just slightly, quite surprised at the elf’s brutal suggestion. He disapproved of such an act, rather just hanging her or cutting her in two in front of her surviving officers, if there were any. Such a disgusting spectacle as this suggestion… “I’d rather just chop her head off. Fear’s best garnered suddenly and violently. And fear’s something we’d need to inspire if the rest of our purge of the southlands is to go smoothly. We capture, behead, they’ll fall into line. Especially if we were to raze their countryside.” Agh, the wine had him loose-lipped, his diction descending into that of an uneducated farmboy. Hoping Nanissis hadn’t quite noticed just how drunk he’d become so quickly, Einar sat up on the couch, awaiting any response from the elf as he continued sipping at his glass. “What’d you have that dwarf prepare, eh? Better be something good.”

Oh, but the fourth glass was gone, as were some of Einar’s inhibitions. With a “speak of this to no one” whispered through a playful smile at the presence of the delightful dark-haired woman in the sheer shift from earlier as he accepted a fifth from her. So what if he'd accepted the opportunity of a day of debauchery alongside another of Regis’ Generals? He deserved a rest, one he’d not had in quite a while. If anything, surely it’d make Nanissis trust him more, seeing him become a restless and less composed version of himself, though it had no real consequences. Einar shimmied to the side just a bit, away from Nanissis, making space for the half-elf to nestle herself in the pillows against him as he turned onto his side, still sipping at the glass, still facing Nanissis, finding a hand softly brushing back and forth through her hair.

“You’re accepting of my pursuing the river’s curiosities before I move into Moondar to coax Redmoon into an attack?”

 

[CaptainSully]

Ahkmenohtep
The swamplands was a home few would find comfortable, dark, humid and the stench of stagnant water. Fortunately for Ahkmenohtep and his followers, none of that mattered to them. They made the steady march through the water and weeds like a never ceasing juggernaut. He still had distaste for what he was being forced to do, but it mattered little now, he had to prove his loyalty to Regis.

As the undead host broke through a clearing they came across of lone Toadu, dressed in black robes adorned with skulls...a fortuitous meeting maybe? The six foot five figures of Ahkmenohtep stopped his army with nothing more than a brief though, the entire mass of bone coming to stop simultaneously like some carefully coreagraphed dance.

The lich waded forward alone towards the Toadu, his skeletal features giving nothing away to what his next actions might be. Ahkmenohtep seriously considered the idea of raised his scythe and splitting the giant amphibian in two, but his attire and bravery intrigued him. As the gap closed the Toadu bower and gestured for the undead general to follow.

Ahkmenohtep paused, considering his next step. With a brief thought his honour guard broke from the rank and file of the undead and took their place at his side. They towered over even he, each with a skeletal head of a variety of animals.

"I shall follow you Toadu...you intrigued me greatly..."


Follow Lead: Avatar of Death - A select religion of the land welcomes Ahkmenohtep as the avatar of death. With a reverent bow one of their Toadu priests adorned in dark cloak and skull markings offers the Lich to come into a shadowed ceremony.

 

[Abstracty]

Nanissis spread his arms on the large pillow and leaned back a little further, smiling in spite of the gruesome tale he was told. He knew that Einar was not afraid to dish out some brutality, but slicing a man open over some spoilt wine did seem extreme, even for the Prince of Poison Tongues. "Well, well... quite a morning you had.", he played it cool, smirking along - but Nanissis decided to slow down when it came to prodding General Einar. "Fortunately, the day is about to get a whole lot better, I can promise you that.", he didn't even need to exaggerate, as this fine establishment was already doing a tremendous job of catering to General Jaddeths needs. And the little surprise he had planned for later would surely serve them well too. "So long as you do not overextend yourself, I say thats a very sound plan you have.", the Elf agreed. Sending a scouting party to investigate the river seemed like a decent plan and he needed some time to fan the flames of religious turmoil anyways.

"Forgive me for being so direct, but... it seems like cutting a man open over some spoiled wine is quite a reaction as well.", he wasn't ashamed in the slightest by what he had claimed he would do to the opposing leader once she was captured. "But speaking of direct, thats certainly what your approach is. This brings us to the very important topic of dividing the lands we are about to conquer between our governance. The Emperor expects us to rule and maintain public order while the campaign is ongoing. I suggest we keep the existing division of Caliban into Caliban Proper and Moondar, one of us will decide the fate of the North and the other the South.", he was finally eager to speak about the topic at hand more seriously, now that Einar had had his fair share of wine. "I propose that whoever will govern Moondar will decide on the fate of all captives there. And whoever governs Caliban shall decide there and we will see which yields the better results. Since I use my whispers and words as weapons too, I humbly suggest that Moondar will fall to me, as it will allow me to better exploit the religious division and the seed of dissent will be strongest here. Leaving Caliban to you gives you the ability to deliver whatever punishments you see fit as its further away from Imperial authority. And, I have to admit, your approach might yield better results there, as I expect the Moon Worshippers there to be stuck even deeper in their old ways - too deep for my words to rattle them, and further removed from the conflict I drum up here.", he even got into a proper talk about their strategies past the short-term, revealing that he indeed knew more than just to provoke.

"Two little surprises.", his teasing ways quickly returned however, when questioned about the dwarf. "One that we will share together and the other is a gift from me to you.", Nanissis kept it mysterious, even moving his hands ominously as if to summon a great evil. With a smile, he relaxed back into his pillow and observed how Einar finally accepted a dark-haired beauty into his embrace. Nanissis gave an approving nod and his sly smirk revealed that he also liked what he saw. "I am accepting indeed. And there comes the first surprise to seal that deal.", the Elf was happy to let Einar know that a part of their talks was concluded. The dwarf meanwhile returned with a small, golden tablet on which a delicate glass bowl with a silver spoon, as well as two small papers were placed. A purple-ish powder sparkled in vibrant colors inside the tiny bowl and the dwarf placed the whole arrangment down very carefully. Meanwhile, the Half-Elf gently guided her hand along Einars cheek as she temporarily slid from his grasp. With a giggle and a seductive wink towards the Kinslayer, she rested on her feet and elbows, her belly held upwards so she could serve as a makeshift table for the moment. The dwarf carefully arranged two fine lines of the powder on her bare skin, passing a paper to each of the generals. With a satisfied smirk, Nanissis was swift to roll his portion into a straw, grinning towards Einar. "The first surprise. Do not worry yourself, we will speak of this to no one.", he even used some of Einars own words, before drawing the line through his nose and slumping back into his pillow, his smile and eyes even more wide and wicked than before.

 

[Damian0358]

Encamping at Port Silver, Voyka and her men initially found themselves welcomed with open arms in town. Though her murderous reputation preceded her, what followed closely behind it was her attitude outside of battle, stories of her 'kindness' to her men and to those beneath her, befitting the image of the elderly grandmother that was betrayed by her actual appearance. However, as with any large family, chaos is soon to arrive if a firm hand isn't placed upon it. And naughty children must be punished, as she presented when she arrived at the bar where a fight had occurred.

Voyka arrived at the aftermath, with both her own and the locals having fled from the scene, broken chairs and bottles littering the floor and tables. Issues of the Silvermoon Paper were strewn across the floor, the stand offering cheap issues having been seemingly thrown in the tussle. The only ones remaining present were the staff, who looked at the elder woman with faint breath. As she approached the desk, the remaining staff carefully rushed to the back, leaving but the owner to deal with her.

"...madame," the owner nodded, avoiding making eye contact with Voyka, but he could tell from his glances that she seemed upset. She glared down at him with an intensity he himself hadn't felt in years, not since angering his own mother.

"...sir," Voyka began, "...I have been made aware that there was a fight here."

"...y-yes, madame, there was," the owner stuttered his answer out.

"...who?" Voyka asked.

"...w-who?"

"Who began the fight?"

The owner paused for a moment, washing the glass in his hands as he tried to recall who done it.

"...m-madame, you must understand that the fight had been chaotic," the owner motioned to the chaos, "I doubt I would be able to recall a face."

"And no other features?"

"N-no, madame."

"What about your other staff?"

"T-they barely avoided getting slammed by your men," the owner spat out, with Voyka catching his tone.

"...by my men?"

"Y-yes, they even trashed the Silvermoon stand we had," the owner gestured to the stand on the ground.

Voyka stared the stand down, recalling what she had heard of the Silvermoon Daily from her men. The town prior to its conquest under Odaden had been known as Silvermoon, and was under the influence of the Church of Lunara. Given Odaden's leanings towards Solman over Lunara, and Lunara itself still being worshipped by the neighboring states, the paper seemed a likely avenue for external threats to inject their own rhetoric into their lands. But in this moment, it suggested a simpler issue.

"So, are you suggesting my men are at fault for what happened tonight?"

"Well, I'm not sure, but-"

"No need to beat around the bush, if my men were at fault, I will make sure to discipline them," Voyka cut off the owner with a remarkably blunt statement.

The owner paused for a moment, unsure how to respond, before feeling emboldened to speak.

"I do think it was one of your men," he stated.

Voyka stared the man down, looking deeply into his eyes, attempting to ascertain whether the answer she had just received was true or not. The owner attempted to seem stonewalled, assured what he had said was the truth. After a minute or so of this, the old hag spoke once more.

"...alright then. Apologies for the disturbance then," she stated, as she approached one of the tables which seemed to have been stained by blood. She grabbed one of the damaged issues of the Silvermoon Daily, and ripped a page out.

"H-hey, what are you-"

"I'm going to clean up the blood they left, do you have an issue with this?" Voyka glared back, silencing the owner. Using the ripped out page, she spat upon it, and used it to wipe away the blood on the table, following it up by using the same page to pick up bloodied shards of glass from the ground. As the page wore out, she ripped out another to clean with.

"M-ma'am, we have towels for-"

"Towels can wear easily, especially when dealing with glass. Paper will suffice," she once more shut him down.

After several minutes, all the blood had either been cleaned or collected atop one table for disposal.

"I hope this can make up for the damages," Voyka affirmed.

"Y-yeah..." the owner said, mentally exhausted by her presence.

"I'll make my way out now, good night," Voyka stated, before departing, allowing the owner to finally relax.

Of course, the owner had no idea what Voyka had actually done. She could tell from his eyes that he wasn't speaking the truth, if not entirely than at least partially, so she had examined the battle damage herself, and concluded that her own men had come out bloodier than the locals. This could only happen if it was an attack from the Lunarans first, as otherwise her men had gotten sloppy. She would be back.

---

Back at camp, after reprimanding her men for getting ambushed at the bar, one of them approached her with news.

"Y-you've been invited by the local countess Ashenbrook for a gathering," he stated, as he presented her with a letter. After being handed it, Voyka dismissed the man, and began to read it for herself.

She never really liked such gatherings, honestly, especially as in such a case it would involve a lot of asskissing, whether it be hers or others. She grew tired of these as she grew to her position, and disliked the very notion of having to attend it. She tossed it to the side, as she considered the incident at the bar, and recalled the paper. The whispers of a "demonic host coming upon Caliban" was one thing, but who knew what the paper might be saying else, especially if it was causing tensions between her men and the local Lunarans? In addition, given the uncommonality of newspapers in the first place, one could conceive of Althreiellian infiltration. It was something she needed to investigate.

But before she could, she needed to speak with Aranea. The last thing she needed to do was investigate the press while her ally on the front attacked by her lonesome. They needed to ensure unity.

"Men, bring me my steed," she exclaimed, "I'm heading to the forest to speak with Aranea. If anyone asks for me, tell them I'm hunting," she explained as her steed was brought, a now-rare Rogovac breed of horned goat that had been tamed and bred to have the carrying capacity of a horse and a far less capricious temperament. She placed upon her back her banner pole, which bore her army's banner, which had a spear tip on top for use as a weapon if necessary, not that it would be needed her, only the banner.

She rode to Aranea's camp, and upon arrival, sought an audience with her to discuss matters of the front.

Scatterbrain

 

[dikdik]

Einar couldn’t quite read Nanissis’ expression or reaction to his obliging the request for details from the morning. His words seemed chipper as usual, but perhaps met with restraint as they shifted into affirmations, a moment later divulging Nanissis’ idea of how to divide Caliban upon its conquest. Einar, slowly but certainly trickling into a jabbering, unconstrained version of himself he’d not met in many a moon, squinted his eyes at Nanissis with thought at the suggestion of Nanissis’ settling into Moondar, him into Caliban.

“You doubt your words’ ability to crush the rebellion in Caliban?” Einar sank deeper into the pillow and chuckled, impressed with his own wit. “I suppose it’s only fair I don’t press you into burning the traitors if you don’t forbid me from slitting their throats.” Einar sloshed the last bit of wine around before sipping the rest of it, the cup disappearing from his hand as one of the staff whisked it away. “And I suppose you have a point regarding Moondar being best suited to your strengths and Caliban to mine.”

The return of the dwarf and Nanissis’ promise of two surprises had Einar a bit perplexed. He generally despised surprises, but if it garnered trust from the General, perhaps it would be worth the annoyance. They would be campaigning together at the least through Moondar and Caliban and perhaps further. They’d need to trust each other. Slowly twisting a finger through the woman’s hair, Einar was admittedly distracted from the discussion of conquering and troop movement and planning. So? He could be distracted this once. Wasn’t like he was bad at war. His army was disciplined, obedient, and reflected his own brutality. His command was their divine purpose and they would succeed, whatever the task may be. Distraction, with the added bonus of creating a bond with another General would serve him. As would whatever this surprise was. The half-elf’s disappearing act, however, would not. She slipped away, brushing her hand over his face, a curl of her hair just catching his finger with the slightest tug, a giggle, a wink. Einar dramatically collapsed the rest of the way into the couch with a sigh, gaze flashing facetious daggers at Nanissis and returning to the salacious performance as he sat up a bit and accepted a thin paper from the dwarf. Everything here, in this palace wrought with sin, the city, the country, everything was so performative, such an ostentatious display. Including the addition of that glimmering powder to the meeting; something Einar had only done once before. The endeavor ended with blood all over the carpet, and Einar, but perhaps this time would be different.

“How’d you know I loathe surprises?” Mimicking the General’s actions with a huff, followed by a burning up his nose and into the top of his throat, though Einar didn’t indicate the sensation. His eyes would, however, as they started to water just slightly at the discomfort that quickly elevated into a warmth, a bliss, a release of tension he hadn’t noticed he was holding. None of this was in his plan for today. Neither was the wine. Neither was showing up in such an esteemed establishment covered in another man’s blood, but here he was.

“What if I poisoned the river? It’d flush out before we moved into Moondar on the offensive, but not before getting rid of at least a few of those fuckin’ moon elves.” Here he was spilling his own secrets and almost not caring at all. “I could poison it as you investigate the division between those zealots. We attack. We take Moondar. The sweet bliss of quick victory. Although I expect you’d oppose my razing their farms after, yeah?” Oh. He was chatty. Fuck. He was chatty. And quietly laughing at himself. Einar slid back down into the pillows, resting on his side, an arm tucked up under his head, the other hand waving about in the air until grasped by the curly-headed half-elf. He tugged at her gently until she plopped back onto the couch. He eyed Nanissis, waiting for a response or reaction.

 

[Scatterbrain]

Encamping at Port Silver, Voyka and her men initially found themselves welcomed with open arms in town. Though her murderous reputation preceded her, what followed closely behind it was her attitude outside of battle, stories of her 'kindness' to her men and to those beneath her, befitting the image of the elderly grandmother that was betrayed by her actual appearance. However, as with any large family, chaos is soon to arrive if a firm hand isn't placed upon it. And naughty children must be punished, as she presented when she arrived at the bar where a fight had occurred.

Voyka arrived at the aftermath, with both her own and the locals having fled from the scene, broken chairs and bottles littering the floor and tables. Issues of the Silvermoon Paper were strewn across the floor, the stand offering cheap issues having been seemingly thrown in the tussle. The only ones remaining present were the staff, who looked at the elder woman with faint breath. As she approached the desk, the remaining staff carefully rushed to the back, leaving but the owner to deal with her.

"...madame," the owner nodded, avoiding making eye contact with Voyka, but he could tell from his glances that she seemed upset. She glared down at him with an intensity he himself hadn't felt in years, not since angering his own mother.

"...sir," Voyka began, "...I have been made aware that there was a fight here."

"...y-yes, madame, there was," the owner stuttered his answer out.

"...who?" Voyka asked.

"...w-who?"

"Who began the fight?"

The owner paused for a moment, washing the glass in his hands as he tried to recall who done it.

"...m-madame, you must understand that the fight had been chaotic," the owner motioned to the chaos, "I doubt I would be able to recall a face."

"And no other features?"

"N-no, madame."

"What about your other staff?"

"T-they barely avoided getting slammed by your men," the owner spat out, with Voyka catching his tone.

"...by my men?"

"Y-yes, they even trashed the Silvermoon stand we had," the owner gestured to the stand on the ground.

Voyka stared the stand down, recalling what she had heard of the Silvermoon Daily from her men. The town prior to its conquest under Odaden had been known as Silvermoon, and was under the influence of the Church of Lunara. Given Odaden's leanings towards Solman over Lunara, and Lunara itself still being worshipped by the neighboring states, the paper seemed a likely avenue for external threats to inject their own rhetoric into their lands. But in this moment, it suggested a simpler issue.

"So, are you suggesting my men are at fault for what happened tonight?"

"Well, I'm not sure, but-"

"No need to beat around the bush, if my men were at fault, I will make sure to discipline them," Voyka cut off the owner with a remarkably blunt statement.

The owner paused for a moment, unsure how to respond, before feeling emboldened to speak.

"I do think it was one of your men," he stated.

Voyka stared the man down, looking deeply into his eyes, attempting to ascertain whether the answer she had just received was true or not. The owner attempted to seem stonewalled, assured what he had said was the truth. After a minute or so of this, the old hag spoke once more.

"...alright then. Apologies for the disturbance then," she stated, as she approached one of the tables which seemed to have been stained by blood. She grabbed one of the damaged issues of the Silvermoon Daily, and ripped a page out.

"H-hey, what are you-"

"I'm going to clean up the blood they left, do you have an issue with this?" Voyka glared back, silencing the owner. Using the ripped out page, she spat upon it, and used it to wipe away the blood on the table, following it up by using the same page to pick up bloodied shards of glass from the ground. As the page wore out, she ripped out another to clean with.

"M-ma'am, we have towels for-"

"Towels can wear easily, especially when dealing with glass. Paper will suffice," she once more shut him down.

After several minutes, all the blood had either been cleaned or collected atop one table for disposal.

"I hope this can make up for the damages," Voyka affirmed.

"Y-yeah..." the owner said, mentally exhausted by her presence.

"I'll make my way out now, good night," Voyka stated, before departing, allowing the owner to finally relax.

Of course, the owner had no idea what Voyka had actually done. She could tell from his eyes that he wasn't speaking the truth, if not entirely than at least partially, so she had examined the battle damage herself, and concluded that her own men had come out bloodier than the locals. This could only happen if it was an attack from the Lunarans first, as otherwise her men had gotten sloppy. She would be back.

---

Back at camp, after reprimanding her men for getting ambushed at the bar, one of them approached her with news.

"Y-you've been invited by the local countess Ashenbrook for a gathering," he stated, as he presented her with a letter. After being handed it, Voyka dismissed the man, and began to read it for herself.

She never really liked such gatherings, honestly, especially as in such a case it would involve a lot of asskissing, whether it be hers or others. She grew tired of these as she grew to her position, and disliked the very notion of having to attend it. She tossed it to the side, as she considered the incident at the bar, and recalled the paper. The whispers of a "demonic host coming upon Caliban" was one thing, but who knew what the paper might be saying else, especially if it was causing tensions between her men and the local Lunarans? In addition, given the uncommonality of newspapers in the first place, one could conceive of Althreiellian infiltration. It was something she needed to investigate.

But before she could, she needed to speak with Aranea. The last thing she needed to do was investigate the press while her ally on the front attacked by her lonesome. They needed to ensure unity.

"Men, bring me my steed," she exclaimed, "I'm heading to the forest to speak with Aranea. If anyone asks for me, tell them I'm hunting," she explained as her steed was brought, a now-rare Rogovac breed of horned goat that had been tamed and bred to have the carrying capacity of a horse and a far less capricious temperament. She placed upon her back her banner pole, which bore her army's banner, which had a spear tip on top for use as a weapon if necessary, not that it would be needed her, only the banner.

She rode to Aranea's camp, and upon arrival, sought an audience with her to discuss matters of the front.

Scatterbrain

As Voyka approached Aranea’s camp, the forest thickened around her, creating an almost impenetrable veil of shadows. The dense canopy above allowed only faint streams of light to filter through, casting an eerie glow that danced along the narrow path. Voyka would have noticed the subtle signs of Aranea’s presence long before she reached the heart of the camp. The trees themselves seemed to lean inward, their branches intertwining in unnatural patterns, as if woven by an unseen hand, while the air hummed with an electric energy that would send a faint chill down Voyka’s spine. She would notice movement in the corners of her vision, large, shadowy forms skittering just out of sight, their many legs moving to the hum of the forest. Aranea’s spiders were everywhere, silent guardians of her territory.

As Vokyka dismounted, a pair of Aranea’s scouts emerged from the shadows, their eyes narrowing as they evaluated the newcomer. One of the scouts, a tall, wiry man, stepped forward to guide her. “General Voyka,” he acknowledged, respectfully. “Aranea is expecting you. Follow me.”

As the guide lead her deeper into the camp, the spiders became even more numerous. Some of the largest ones, the size of wolves, prowled alongside Aranea’s men, their movements eerily synchronized. They arrived at a large clearing where Aranea had made her base. A massive, intricately woven web hung between two towering trees, glowing faintly in the dim light. Beneath it, Aranea waited, her formidable presence heightened by the silent, watchful spiders that scuttered around her feet. Aranea’s form was imposing, even in the half-light of the forest. Her long, spindly legs were coiled beneath her, her many eyes reflecting the faint glow of the web above. She greeted Voyka with a slight tilt of her head. “Voyka,” Aranea said, her voice echoing in Voyka’s mind with a calm, almost hypnotic cadence. “What brings you to see me?”

Actions:

1. Follow Lead: Send Them Fear (Althreiell is known little for their combat prowess. The rumours of a giant arachnid are enough to spread fear. Aranea figures that she could amplify this effect through her powers. What if that vision of herself was also in their dreams?)
2. Use Card: Telepathy (Every turn Aranea may choose an NPC in a bordering province and has a 1/4 chance to know their action for the turn) on Luthais Cailamin, the Marshal of Feathers.

 

[Damian0358]

As Voyka approached Aranea’s camp, the forest thickened around her, creating an almost impenetrable veil of shadows. The dense canopy above allowed only faint streams of light to filter through, casting an eerie glow that danced along the narrow path. Voyka would have noticed the subtle signs of Aranea’s presence long before she reached the heart of the camp. The trees themselves seemed to lean inward, their branches intertwining in unnatural patterns, as if woven by an unseen hand, while the air hummed with an electric energy that would send a faint chill down Voyka’s spine. She would notice movement in the corners of her vision, large, shadowy forms skittering just out of sight, their many legs moving to the hum of the forest. Aranea’s spiders were everywhere, silent guardians of her territory.

Voyka recognized just how much Aranea had already impacted the forest with her presence there, admiring the atmosphere as much as it brought a chill to her. It was something to aspire to in her eyes, though not right now, as presenting a grandmotherly exterior to her surroundings always catches outsiders off more given her reputation. In one moment, one of the spiders even fell atop her head, prompting her to raise her hand as to allow them to be brought to the ground, though not before petting it.

As Voyka dismounted, a pair of Aranea’s scouts emerged from the shadows, their eyes narrowing as they evaluated the newcomer. One of the scouts, a tall, wiry man, stepped forward to guide her. “General Voyka,” he acknowledged, respectfully. “Aranea is expecting you. Follow me.”

As the guide lead her deeper into the camp, the spiders became even more numerous. Some of the largest ones, the size of wolves, prowled alongside Aranea’s men, their movements eerily synchronized.

Having dismounted and allowed the spider to return to the others, Voyka watched as one of Aranea's scouts approached. "Of course." Voyka responded simply, as she followed the guide deeper into the forest.

As Voyka marched deeper into the camp, the presence of the larger spiders reminded her of both their commonalities, and their differences. The Rogovci and the Neurachnids had been cut down by forces greater than their own, yet Aranea remained close with other arachnids while she was a pariah to those like her. Their kin each had psychic abilities, yet her kin specialized in the land of the unconscious while Aranea's specialized in the land of the conscious. And the moment they first met years ago, Aranea realized Voyka was keeping her abilities, the ones that got her kin slain, hidden, just as Voyka realized Aranea kept her ambitions of Regis' demise hidden; and the two have kept quiet on the other's secret since.

One day, Voyka knew, she would achieve what Aranea had among her people, carving out a sect of people just like her... someday.

They arrived at a large clearing where Aranea had made her base. A massive, intricately woven web hung between two towering trees, glowing faintly in the dim light. Beneath it, Aranea waited, her formidable presence heightened by the silent, watchful spiders that scuttered around her feet. Aranea’s form was imposing, even in the half-light of the forest. Her long, spindly legs were coiled beneath her, her many eyes reflecting the faint glow of the web above. She greeted Voyka with a slight tilt of her head. “Voyka,” Aranea said, her voice echoing in Voyka’s mind with a calm, almost hypnotic cadence. “What brings you to see me?”

Voyka had grown used to witnessing Aranea's form approaching from the distance, but just as one could be caught off-guard by her own grandmotherly nature, she was sure others would be caught off-guard by the beauty of the spider's webbed decor and her descent from it.

Voyka bowed in turn, before responding. "Business as usual, Aranea," she began, "as the main generals of this front, it only makes sense for us to meet and agree upon a plan for the time being. The last thing I would want is to not accompany you in battle as a result of resolving issues here on the homefront. For instance, I'm sure you've heard of the Silvermoon Paper and its... Lunaran leanings."

 

[Abstracty]

"I do. It happens rarely, but I do have these doubts.", Nanissis admitted with a casual shrug of his shoulders, not losing his smirk of superiority for a second. "I see, we are all starting to make a lot of sense, now, that the senses are pleasantly entangling with this most relaxing environment.", he kept smiling, making light of both of their intoxicated states. For Einar, it seemed to have set in rather quick, further revealing to the Elf that his fellow general usually didn't partake in too much of the debauchery on offer here. It made tempting him even more tempting in itself. "And with that, I consider it settled. You shall govern Caliban, while I govern Moondar. And since our glorious Emperor will surely not want us to stop there... I can foresee very long and fruitful business relations, if thats what we shall call it.", Nanissis leaned forward, satisfied with the result of their talks so far and eager to get back to the temptationous side of things, where he was duly aided by the dwarf.

When Einar asked how he knew about him loathing surprises, Nanissis chuckled along. "But I didn't even know that! I thought everyone loves surprises.", he acted as innocent as ever, which only served to display his amusement over what he had just found out. Truthfully, Nanissis had not known that Einar loathed surprises, but he would have done everything the same either way. "Well... the Calibanians won't like the surprises coming their way, but... thats besides my point.", he jokingly added, before it was time to consume the powder. The Elf had been very specific in his instructions and they were only served a small, safe dosis of very high quality. He wanted to see how Einar would go along and what his tolerance was and he had learned enough. Feeling and enjoying a blissful dulling of his mind, the smirk turned less sophisticated for a while. Fine veins darkened in his eyes and he sank a little deeper into the pillow. The Half-Elf giggled along, now even more into Einar than she had been before.

"I really like the sound of that. Its music to my ears, in fact. Poisoning them is a good way to go and I will spin it as a divine plague brought onto them.", the chattier version of Einar appealed to Nanissis and the eyes lid up as they started to bounce ideas of one another. "I would prefer if you didn't raze their farms, as our supply lines will run there if we are to march south quickly. Do give them a good fright, however, that has never hurt.", he was game with almost everything, but General Jaddeth had correctly predicted his objections against razing the farms. Further south in Caliban, he wouldn't have such objections. Meanwhile, Einars companion was starting to get busy herself, running her hands gently over him. Nanissis smiled. "I believe most of our business at hand is concluded.", he announced with grand gesture. "Which means that it is time for your second surprise. I shall write you, once I have concluded my business in the city and my words sow discontent amongst our enemies. Please, inform me of time frames for your poisonous plans as well as troop movements. I have purposefully held my centaurs back north, so the enemy doesn't foresee an immediate attack by them, but they can be readied very quickly.", he explained, before realizing that it was more than difficult for him to get back to his feet. "Try to remember some of these things.", he joked, whilst also laughing at his own clumsiness.

As for the second surprise, the dwarf made a gesture to the half-elf and mouthed some words towards her and her smile revealed that she understood. Once again she got up, but this time she kept a hold of Einars hand, gently helping him stand. "You have your own private room, the finest in the house.", Nanissis smirked and the dwarf handed over a small golden key to the beauty seductively guiding the general towards said room, already making promises of how much he would like it. "Farewell, General Jaddeth. I will leave you for now.", the mercenary leader grinned as he waved goodbye for now. "They shall hang me for treason! I am leaving you behind, dazed and outnumbered! Adieu!", he allowed himself one last joke, almost tipping over as he bowed excessively. With a very satisfied grin, Nanissis left the place, knowing that Einar was in good hands. The half-elf was indeed keen on opening the room for the general, the finest one as promised. And as they entered, a far more demonic beauty was already laying on the pompous bed, waiting for Einar and waving him over seductively.

Spoiler: The Surprise

 

[dikdik]

Einar curled a bloodthirsty smile at Nanissis’ suggestion that their business continue after taking both Moondar and Caliban. If their desires continued to align and serve the both of them, so long as the General didn’t do anything particularly untrustworthy, he would be supportive of continuing their current path. “I support our long and fruitful business continuing well into Voloria, Bovech, and beyond. I believe we’d make quite the pair, crushing rebellion.”

The more he drank, and inhaled for that matter, had Nanissis’ rambunctious quipping appearing a bit more humorous than the usual. Einar found himself quietly laughing along, though admittedly taken aback by the elf suggesting everyone enjoyed surprises. He couldn’t think of a remark to come back with, especially not as he continued to consume said surprises. Including the company of the half-elf now lounging about the couch and pillows with him, their velvet and lace becoming suddenly softer and more relaxing upon his experiencing of the dwarf’s little gift.

“Oh-ho, fucking morons. They’ll enjoy arguing with each other about who brought such wrath on them from the heavens. Or hells.” Oh, hells, was he distracted. Most probable that this was Nanissis’ design, right? Get him drunk, get him talking, toy with him. But why?

“I’ll send a raven when the poison’s been set. I’ll move on the attack shortly thereafter. You’re welcome to join whenever it conveniences you.” Though Einar’s army would be able to make do with reduced rations after burning the rebels’ livelihood to the ground, he supposed Nanissis’ army may not have the same capacity. He would leave Moondar to the General’s handling after its conquest, though the same would certainly not be true for Caliban. A brief moment he spent pondering what a glorious sight it’d be to burn the traitors inside their own villages, black smoke churning and billowing up from buildings as white-hot flames licked their way up the walls then the roofs of thatched houses. His clouded vision wasn’t the only thing on fire.

The curly haired woman stood again at the bidding of the dwarf and gripped Einar’s hand as she rose, pulling him up as well. Perhaps because he wasn’t walking yet, perhaps it was reality, Einar was steady on his feet. At least for now. He scowled playfully at Nanissis, “Oh, I’ll remember all of it, you bastard. At least I can stand up straight!” Einar’s brows lifted with his laugh, genuine and rare. Perhaps he’d indulge in these temptations more often. Perhaps that was his intoxicated mind swimming in murky thoughts he’d rid himself of in the sobering morning. “Not if I burn you at the stake first, traitor.” Einar winked and shooed Nanissis away, dramatically as he was mischievously, as the brown-headed woman tugged him towards a room, supposedly the finest the whole house had to offer, something Einar had to see to believe considering how elaborate and idyllic the entire establishment was. Turning towards her and away from Nanissis as he left, Einar realized just how bound by gravity his lumbering body seemed to be. Not the only thing it was bound by.

The door cracked open as the woman unlocked it with a key perhaps made of gold, perhaps gilded. Either way, Einar didn’t care. Frankly, he didn’t care about much, especially not once he realized what the surprise inside was. His free hand gripped the door frame a moment on the way by. He couldn’t tell if it was hesitation or a search for a bit of balance, but it didn’t last too long as the charming half-elf coaxed him away from his stability with a pull, a giggle, a brush of her fingers from his lips, down his throat, and onto the collar of his tunic; one hand releasing his and shoving him deeper into the room towards his special little gift, the other clicking the door closed. He didn’t hate surprises, after all. At least not all of them.