Fantasy Eternal Conquest

[Abstracty]

With a sly smile, Nanissis put his hand over his heart and acted aghast. "My dear Prince, you wound me. Why would I need something in it for me? Is faithful service to the Empire not a reward on its own?", he was certainly teasing now, though not for too long. "Perhaps I am just a hapless romantic dreaming of an invitation to a royal wedding. Or perhaps I take solace in the knowledge that the Emperor appreciates the arrangement I helped broker. A lot.", he whistled sweetly. "We all have our part to play. And for mine, marriage would be a... complication.", he at least answered one of the questions directly and without much undertone or riddles about it.

"Talk about ambitious...", Nanissis remarked, once Bovech became part of the scheme. "A tight schedule, but we should wrap up the Caliban campaign soon enough.", he pondered and by then any teasing tone was gone. They were talking good business now, so Nanissis needed to carefully consider how viable the attack on Bovech was. He knew that General Jaddeth and him would strike there eventually after securing Caliban. But putting a deadline on it was a risk. A risk he was willing to take, if thats what it took to secure the deal and improve his favor with the imperial family. So, after some consideration, the general smiled and bowed. "A very satisfactory conclusion. I will provide you with that show of strength. Of course, I do expect an invitation to the wedding now.", he declared his consent to the Princes terms. "Since we are working together in such harmony now... I would like to be informed about any intel you might posess regarding Norale and Bovech. You keep your gardens in pristine condition and I suspect you have grown more metaphorical roots in neighboring regions.", he did have one last request. By now, Nanissis suspected that the Prince posessed a network of spies, which could prove useful for his purposes. Of course he didn't expect him to share everything, but Kirin was smart enough to drop something useful without revealing his hand, if he so desired.

With a satisfied smile, Nanissis bowed politely, before moving to Kirins side once more. There was still a lot of beautiful gardenwork to admire and the Elf expected more refreshments and a proper dinner. The conversation would become more trivial, as the main business was concluded, but all of that would still be part of a game to figure each other out some more. A game Nanissis enjoyed very much and residing in a palace for the night was a welcome change from the war camp in Moondar.

On the next morning, Nanissis did not linger around unnecessarily long. He stayed for as long as it was polite, before saying his formal farewells and leaving for the war camp. As he was just past the City gate, a messenger approached him with haste and the Elf was quite pleased that he could receice General Einars words outside of the palace. The message was short, simple and put a ponderous smile on his face. "That bastard...", he quietly thought to himself, before burning the message. News of Valindra Redmoons demise would certainly reach far and wide soon enough. With the certainty of a conquered Moondar awaiting him, the rest of his journey was spend plotting on Southern Caliban. Nanissis also did not forget to send word to Emperor Regis, informing him of his brothers consent and the expected time frame. He was sure that Kirin would send word as well, but needed to ensure that the proceedings weren't subtly changed to his disadvantage. He wanted to gain more favor from the Emperor, so he needed to be the one conducting the affairs in Regis' eyes.

Once Nanissis had ensured that everything was in order with his mercenary forces, he ordered the Knights of Illumination back into his fold. To do so, he returned to General Einars camp just as surprisingly as he had departed. Words had flown to him, telling of Jaddeths triumph, but also of dark deeds and blood, so he was quite eager to meet his fellow General unannounced. As soon as he arrived, word was obviously dispatched to Einar, but Nanissis hoped to surprise him slightly nonetheless. With a smile he confidently approached the tent, where he himself found him caught off guard for a moment. A woman, certainly not a soldier or nurse, left just as he arrived, causing a raised eyebrow and an even wider smirk. "It can't be too terrible...", he quietly remarked to himself, before announcing his presence much louder. "Where is my welcoming comittee, General Jaddeth? Did your great victory leave you so exhausted you can't greet an old friend?", Nanissis wasn't shy to tease right away.

 

[dikdik]

The edge of the thick forest surrounding the rolling fields and farmland was dappled in the dawn by streams of smoke rising from campfires, their flickering lights sizzling out as those within the forest began to move. Those streams had puffed smoke for several days without showing any sign of ceasing. Until now. The constant dread reached inside Einar’s chest and held his insides with a tight grip. Word of raids had spread about the village and its surrounding countryside. Combined with the presence of an army on their doorstep, peasants, merchants, farmers alike had begun boarding up their windows and burying their valuables out in the fields and their floorboards. The thatched roof of mother’s small, one-roomed cottage dribbled with rain drop-drop-plunking into the buckets about the home. In part due to her shame, her station, in part due to her inheriting the small field from her family, their home was the furthest from the village center. The closest to the forest’s black border.

The youth sat, resting as best as he could, with knees tucked to his chest and a lump of bread in his hands watching the dawn begin to burn off some of the lingering rain clouds. The thatched roof overhung just enough to leave a dry spot for him to sit. Observing. Reflecting. A boy of 15, almost a man now, he was. Perhaps someday he would be able to leave. Join some General’s army. Make just enough money to send back home to his mother. To provide her with a more comfortable life. Perhaps he would find some nice baker’s daughter to marry. Mother would never be hungry if there was a baker in the family. They were more well-off than the farmers typically were. Even better, he could find someone outside the village. He could finally escape this brutal life. Escape the rain, the muck. Mother was too slight for farm work, though she was remarkably resilient. She’d never have to work again if he could just get the hells out of this village.

One by one, campfires extinguished, ridding the forest of its pinprick constellations. Clatter within the trees. Wouldn’t be long now, would it?

It wouldn’t. The sound of a horn echoed through the rolling fields, originating in the forest. A roar came with it. The field was set ablaze. A sudden terror replaced the dread as burning adrenaline burst through the fibers and sinews of each muscle. Einar darted into the house where his mother’s eyes were welling with tears, hands over her mouth, agape. She shoved a small bag in his hands. It contained a short dagger, a handful of coins, a silver spoon, and some letters tied in a bundle, the paper curling from humidity and age.

“Einar.” Farea whispered, her eyes locking with his. “Run to the village. Warn them. Please.”

“They heard the horn, they already know-”

“Go! Please, go!” She gripped him in a quick, tight hug, glancing up at him with fear in her face. She felt so frail and worn in his embrace. “I’ll gather the rest of our things. I love you, Einar. I love you.” There was a finality in her tone.

Against everything in him fighting with itself to stay with his mother, his feet pounded into the ground, bag tight in his hands as he charged towards the village. Folk were gathering about the tightly packed buildings, watching with mounting horror as the flames licked closer and a thin boy barrelled towards them. Einar screamed a warning, not knowing what to say or do. He found Amos, the blacksmith and mother’s friend. He shoved the canvas bag into Amos’ arms before he turned back. Panic began nearly immediately as some men brandished swords, children were rushed indoors, and people were grabbing everything from startled roosters to drying laundry as they attempted their flight. A scream, a scream of pain and death. A scream, a- The sun peeked through thinning clouds, flashing brightly off a rich yellow standard, a red-and-gold shield set into a pair of angelic white wings, as it approached the cottage. Mother’s cottage. Mother. Eyes wide as floodgates, shock pouring from them, he ran. Desperation settled in. The house was engulfed, fully and completely engulfed in white-hot horror. Einar ran about the house, seeking an entry point that wouldn’t burn him alive. There was. He passed through. Heat scorched his flesh. Singed the hairs off his arms. Smoke poured into his lungs, eyes tingled with pain. Mother was still screaming. He was screaming. Coughing and screaming. There was still hope. Just a glimmer if he could lift that board, or anything, anything. Soon, her screeching faded to whimpering and silence. Immolation. Sacrifice. The house collapsed.

A faint tickling traced the angles of Einar’s jaw, his nose, his ears. The tickling left when it became a gentle tugging through his hair, twisting through it, following the softness of its curls. Eyes blinking open, Einar was curled on his side. As he had been for a few days. Aza’s caress stirred him from a deeply disturbed sleep. As it had for a few days. His sleep was deep. Too deep, as he hadn’t been able to wake up from the bone-chilling screams of his mother burning alive in their home. Quite inconvenient, getting smacked in the head a few times.

“Another one?” Aza pressed a smile.

He wondered what he’d been mumbling about through the dreams this time. He nodded and stretched out, dizziness migrating from his pulsing head into the pits of his stomach. “Can’t get rid of ‘em. I blame you.”

“I blame your stupidity. Oh, and your vanity.” She barked back at him, shifting from under thick blankets. Aza slinked over to the table where staff had left the usual two breakfast, two glasses and a carafe of water, and a change of clothing. She grabbed one cup and returned, morning light glowing warmly inside of Einar’s quarters. A contrast to the coolness outside. He slowly sat upright, blanket falling to his hips as a turned and swung his legs over the edge, bare feet finding the carpets particularly chilled this morning. “Drink it.”

Einar took the glass and shot a look at her. Oh, but fuck. Her eyes in the sunlight. They were nearly radiant as the gold flickered off tiny black freckles within a rich brown. “You can stop telling me what to do.”

“That’s not why you pay me, Einar.” She winked at him, landing in the chair by the table and beginning to slowly munch on fruits.

Einar huffed a thin laugh, head spinning just slightly. Less than the last few days. His hand found his throat, prodding at it gently as he sipped. It was still sore, a bit swollen, and horrifically bruised, deep black at the center extending into lighter shades of brown and blue. Felt like he’d swallowed gravel. Sounded it, too. “Have you thought about it? What I mentioned? I think it was yesterday. I don’t know what day.”

“Considering that’s the second morning in a row you’ve asked me if I’ve ‘thought about it’, I’d say it was the day before.” Aza smirked at him. She seemed to enjoy teasing at how useless his memory had been after taking Moondar. And executing its traitorous witch of a leader. And getting smashed in the head. “Of course I have. I just enjoy fucking around with you. If you’re actually willing to part with that much, I don’t see why I couldn’t tag along.” Sadism confirmed.

“You’d be free to do as you please, you wouldn’t have to- Wait, did you just say ‘tag along’? That’s what this- You know-” Einar shrugged an irritated shrug, with a bit of a sound effect to go along with it. Aza’s soft laughter was interrupted by Orm’s summon at the door of the tent.

“What?” Einar snapped as he stood, stalking over to where Aza was sitting to dress in the clothing she’d moved from the chair to the edge of the table. She poked at him provocatively as he tried. “You’re fucking shameless.” He whispered, venomous but through a smile. She grabbed a fistful of his hair as he bent to tug his boots on and tousled it, throwing his already suffering balance off further.

“One General Yevro has arrived to meet with you, sir.” Orm replied.

“Seven fucking hells, that bastard’s timing is obnoxious.” A pang of panic struck him in the face. It had already been several days since the fighting. Aza was here. Aza was here. In his quarters. And had been for days. Days. No one cared. Well, they shouldn’t care. Once they started caring, he’d cut them for it. He’d killed a man for less. But Nanissis? He’d never hear the end of it and-

“What’s the problem?” Aza snapped a grape between her teeth.

“You’re here.” Flat.

“Not for long.” She winked, paced across the room, and quickly dressed in her chemise. Not particularly appropriate attire for leaving a General’s quarters and loitering about his camp. Especially not in the presence of another. Not in the presence that one, at least. “Take a breath, would you?” Was he holding it? Aza was gone by the time he finished tying the boot laces up. She left with a smile plastered over her lips. Nanissis’ diabolical presence replaced her.

Einar flicked open the door of his tent, tugging at the collar of his tunic to straighten it out as he strode out. Flashing half a sardonic bow that only served to increase his vertigo, hoping Nanissis wouldn’t notice how flushed his face was, how there was still crusted blood under his fingernails, how he looked like he’d fallen victim to a hanging with those bruises on his throat. “Your welcoming committee died in the war I was fighting while you were off writing letters and fucking demons.” That was the most clever thing he’d come up with in days. He was almost proud of it, considering half the time the elf was gone, he was mumbling nonsense in his sleep. “Old friend, eh? Thought you hated me for the supposed stick up my arse. It was a bit more difficult than the last time around. Glad you’re back for the Knights. Feeding them was becoming a bother.”

 

[Abstracty]

As Nanissis casually strutted through the camp he noticed how much it had changed and also shrunk since his last visit. He was well aware that it had been Einar to deal the fatal blow to Moondar. As such, his troops had been responsible for occupying and policing the local towns, while the mercenary forces moved behind them to deal with stragglers and any would-be partisans. The centaurs, meanwhile, could terrorize any smallfolk considering dissent. Soon, they would have to establish better positions to bring the South of Caliban under imperial protection. Even with his absence, the mercenary captains had been expected to coordinate these movements with Einars officers, for a smooth transition of power in Moondar - as smooth as could be, at least. General Jaddeth would need to find a suitable governor soon. With all these thoughts in mind, the Elf nonetheless wanted to tease his allies for a bit. Announcing himself so arrogantly was part of that game and as soon as Einar Jaddeth emerged from his tent did the game begin.

"I have to disappoint you in that regard. Much to my dismay, I fucked neither demons nor anyone else whilst I was away.", he started off rather tame and with a hint of faux disappointment. But his growing smirk warned of his next quip and he pointed towards Einars bloodied finger nails and nodded to the tent. "And you are one to talk. I could swear on the Seven that wasn't an Officer I just saw skitter from your tent. Should I worry for her well-being?", his voice was teasing, but there clearly was no hint of disapproval or malice. Nanissis was fine with whores in the war camp and thats what it had appeared like to him.

With a smirk, he signalled towards a servant, who was quick to bow and approach with a thick bottle of sparkling wine and a dark, elegant one with old liqueur. "I am not here just to vex you. And how could I ever hate you? No matter the size of the Stick. There is much to celebrate and talk about. Namely... you!", he cheerfully announced with much ado and grandiose gestures. "Even Prince Kirin has recently sang your praises. You have been compared to our dear Emperor and almost got engaged to the Duchess of Veloria. Clearly the Man of the Hour!", the praise was layed in thick, but without any necessary context, so that it may only serve to further confuse. Throughout his spiel, Nanissis never even mentioned the Knights, revealing that he barely cared about them after all. With a friendly smile and his head tilted to the side, he offered a warm embrace. "Where can we speak? There is much to talk about and I am dying to hear about Valindra Redmoons heroic last stand to avoid being captured.", he would either whisper if Einar chose to hug him or just boldly say out loud, should he refuse.

 

[dikdik]

Nanissis’ point at Einar’s hands and mention of Aza flushed his face further, jaw tightening. The drab gray of his gaze flit off to the side just a moment, following Aza’s lithe retreat away from his tent, betraying his genuine annoyance at the General for his quip about her. She glanced back at him, locking eyes, with a quick smile and a wink before disappearing behind the corner of another tent. “I’d be more worried for me than her, if I were you. That one might kill me in my sleep.”

The arrival of a servant carrying extravagant bottles of wine and liquor nearly caught Einar off guard. The startle was a bit unexpected and he rubbed his eyes as they began aching in the glowing sun. He noticed he was fidgeting with his hands, flexing them into fists and picking at his nails. What was that? Nanissis’ grandeur? He wouldn’t get used to that. Would he? What in the seven hells was Nanissis talking about? Celebrating him? Compared to the Emperor? He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment he wanted to, was ready to, receive. And marrying him off? Well… he wasn’t having particular luck on his own. But Aza? He banished the thought.

An invitation for an embrace was perhaps the least expected component of Nanissis’ arrival. More shocking was Einar’s acceptance of it. “Not sure you’d like to hear of all that happened. The river.” He mumbled back, pulling away. Brushing himself off and straightening his tunic out, he pulled the collar away from his throat. Every time something touched it, he felt as though he was choking again. “We can walk or ride to the river. Now that I own it. Might be best for me to walk.” He was ashamedly afraid he might fall off Hedinn, who had been kept in the stables much to his ado for the last few days in the hopes he wouldnt smack Einar in the side of the head with his muzzle. Rascal.

 

[Abstracty]

"The fearsome General Jaddeth, strangled in his sleep by a whore... now that could be quite the tale. I suggest you look for less dangerous company. Or you pay her well and on time.", Nanissis seemed genuinely amused by what he had just been told. But once again, there was no judgement in his voice. Something was off about General Einar, so now he needed to find out what exactly it was. Perhaps carelessly, the arrogant Elf assumed that it couldn't be because his words back when he departed had caused offense. Was Einar intoxicated from celebrating his victory? He didn't seem the type to party for days on end. For now, Nanissis considered the murderous woman and the Moondarian enemy as main suspects for the generals altered state.

With some pride and a nasty smirk, he soon noticed that his words fullfilled his intend of confusing Einar. Nanissis would explain everything in due time, but for now he needed a better place to do so. Offering a hug was his way of further investigating Einars strange state. Did he smell of alcohol or smoke? No, Nanissis could only detect blood, sweat and the need for a bath. But the fact that Einar even accepted it was amusing enough for him to consider it a success. "A stroll by the river, oh my, how romantic.", he hummed, passing the wine bottle along for Einar to carry. With a step and a skip, he closed the distance to walk alongside Einar, taking note of how he felt uncomfortable riding. "I have to admit... you are making me really quite curious. I would like to know exactly what happened. To Valindra... to her troops... to you...", he pondered softly, but only once they were by the river did Nanissis really get into talking. "I do apologize for my sudden departure.", finally more sincere words came from his mouth. "Prince Kirin, brother to our beloved Emperor Regis, required my attention and time was of the essence to set some things in motion. To strike the proverbial iron while its hot. Namely, a permanent alliance with the Duchy of Veloria via marriage. The Emperor himself authorized me to arrange a marriage between the Duchess and either Prince Kirin or you. Since the Prince consented, I am afraid you will remain single for now. But it means three things. First of all, the Emperor has a high opinion of you, for him to consider you an option in this plot. Second, we will need to turn our attention to Bovech before too long, to send a Show of force to the Duchess. And third, and most importantly, we should find you a suitable noble woman elsewhere.", his first report was serious for the most part, only at the end did the Elf joke a little. Throughout his speech, he keenly observed any reaction.

Afterwards, Nanissis took a larger step forward, sizing Einar up and down. "So, thats part of my tea. Now... if you dont mind me being so direct... why the fuck is Valindra Redmoon not in chains, begging to collaborate?", he turned far more sinister in the blink of an eye. An almost demonic frown came over his face, but was quickly eased into an arrogant smirk. "Not that we need her to finish off Caliban... but it would have been oh so sweet.", his voice turned sing-songy and full of irony. "I dare say, you could have married her to secure Caliban much more quickly.", he was blatantly lying now, but with a totally straight face. As he spoke, he was already uncorking his expensive liqueur. A far-away expression washed a smile over his face as Nanissis wafted some off the intense herbal aromas towards his nose. "Quite fitting for these deeps forests. Almost something esoterical about the wild nature here, the air thick with notes of ancient wood and golden resin, the soil freshly drenched in blood and now its all combined with such exquisite, strong flavors.", he mused, offering Einar a good sniff off the bottle as well. Of course he came prepared with fine wine flutes conveniently laced to his velvet sash, as if these were his weapons or ammunition. They weren't the right choice for this bottle, but the sparkling wine had to be opened later too. "A Toast! To our beloved Emperor Regis. And to General Einar Jaddeth, who was compared to the Emperor by Prince Kirin himself.", he really milked the moment and the backhanded comparison.

 

[dikdik]

Strangled in his sleep by a whore, eh? Einar’s eyebrow flicked upwards for a fleeting moment and he tugged at the tail of his shirt, feeling just a bit smothered at the thought. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. A bit nettled by the comment, “Trust that she’s paid plenty well. Aza- she’s of no real danger.” Oh, fuck. He said her name, didn’t he? Paid plenty well enough to travel as his camp moved and shifted and the conquest continued beyond Moondar.

Einar accepted the wine bottle from Nanissis with a snatch and a jab, “Mm, of course what I need the most after having my arse handed to me is a romantic stroll with you.” The elf was particularly chipper. And it was particularly irritating. Einar rubbed his eyes as they began the meandering walk down to the river. An attempt to examine the bottle he was carrying was thwarted by a pang of nausea settling into his guts and manifesting as instability is his gait. The gurgle of the river masked some of their volume and Einar began his account of Redmoon’s downfall. “Curious about what happened to me, eh? Didn’t know you cared so much.” A thin, quiet laugh escaped. “We couldn’t use the horses due to the rain. So we marched on them. It was, er… a bit more visceral than the usual, I’d suppose. Orm took an arrow. I was throttled. Obviously. And not by a whore. At some point after, one of them shoved me and cracked my head against a tree. I don’t remember much of the fighting. It’s a bit of a jumble of, uh, of red and headaches. Heavy losses, though. I don’t remember much of the day or two after, either.”

Einar paced alongside the General, periodically kicking over stones or pausing to watch the water’s quivering surface, as he began quite the explanation of his sudden absence. A potential marriage? Still confusing. To him? More confusing. And nearly bothersome. Certainly. He’d not like to admit it, but Aza had more sway over him than he’d acknowledged before this precise moment when he recognized the twitching in his shoulders as resistance. Regis having any sort of opinion about him was almost foreboding, though if he was of any particular use to the Emperor, he’d accept the order. For now, at least. “I’m not sure I understand my value, here, Nanissis. I was born on a farm. A bastard, besides.” There was just a trace of hope that his comment might dissuade any future political unions, though there was an understanding that at least this component of his future may be at the whim of the Emperor.

The General’s quick outpacing and staring through Einar’s soul left him a bit on edge. From bouncy and alight to aggressive and stark, the bending tone of his words conveyed urgency and what Einar supposed was perhaps disappointment. “You left me to deal with it, and so I did.” He matched Nanissis’ tone. “She was in chains. And she did fucking beg. For hours. I’d rather fall on a goddamn sword than marry a witch like her.”

Nanissis continued a meandering thought about the fragrances abounding through the wine he’d brought as he poured two thin glasses full. “Oh, to the fall of Moondar.” Einar clinked his glass against Nanissis’ own and sipped at it absently, knowing he shouldn’t have too much, watching the river ebb and flow, lapping gently against the pebbled shore. He slowly paced closer to it, the coolness of the water resonating through a gentle breeze. A subtle shiver creeped up unexpectedly, his free arm tugged through his hair and weight shifted into one side. “What’s this of Bovech? Is Regis wanting us to turn there before Caliban?” Einar turned to Yevro, waiting on a response before continuing. “I’ll, we will, need to recover before launching another offensive.”

 

[Abstracty]

"What a lucky girl...", Nanissis purred with a smirk, but he didn't mean much by it. He could probably tease Einar about his whores for quite a while, but it would grow stale rather quickly and he wasn't entirely sure if it might earn him a good punching. The name Aza was inconsequential to him, but he did make mental note of the fact, that Einar seemed to rent her for more than one night. Perhaps he needed to ensure she wasn't one of Prince Kirin's stock, but there were other matters to discuss first.

"But of course I care about you. And I am always curious, it is a damn plight for sure...", he was equally as amused as General Jaddeth, which made it difficult to decipher how concerned he actually was. It had been an eventful few days and Nanissis didn't want to miss anything. He once again turned more serious as he was told about the difficult advance in the rain, raising an eyebrow as he realized which ailment had befallen Einar. "Grim business, I dare say...", he still managed to sound arrogant as he acknowledged the story. The soldiers would need rest and so would Einar. The Elf realized that there was at least a concussion, which might make their work more complicated. To him, it was a nuissance to have to work with a concussed general, but he kept this to himself. A bit more in thought than usual, he nonetheless spilled his tea quite eagerly. "So?", he spat out with a laugh when Einar mentioned being a bastard. Nanissis shrugged and bowed as if presenting himself on a stage. "A bastard, pff. So am I!", he sounded quite proud of himself. "Look at us. Bastards can rise high in the Empire. Just need to keep being ambitious. And your value... many would have quit after getting concussed. Or strangled. Your a tough bastard, you. And you get the job done. I am a slimy bastard and I get my job done.", the demonic frown almost appeared already.

Once it had shown itself, Nanissis very gently returned back to a smile. His chin raised itself a bit and he smirked. "I would have loved to witness that show. Take a good chunk of that wrath and keep it deep within you.", he advised, almost licking his lips with excitement. "Still... she could have been useful. But I won't dwell on whats done. As a matter of fact, I think we can use it to our advantage.", Nanissis pondered, before his thoughts drifted towards their beverages. He smiled as the fall of Moondar was also toasted, slowly emptying his glass without pause. Quite satisfied, he poured the next one. "And to the impending fall of Caliban.", was his first response to Einars question about Bovech. "The plan still stands. Caliban needs to be secured first. Its a good thing you are buildings yourself a fearsome reputation here. If they fear you, they might see me as their saving grace. You could be a very good stick, whilst I am more of a carrot kinda guy. As for Bovech... it will need to fall next. Prince Kirin suggested it as a show of force to coerce the Duchess of Veloria into their marriage. And the Emperor approves. But... one battle at a time.", he explained a little more, watching Einars reaction carefully. "Oh, absolutely. And you will need to establish control over Moondar and set up an appropriate adminstration. Find a governor to manage your affairs while you are at the front.", he continued a leasurly stroll along the river. "I believe you put great trust in Orm. Seems reliable as an officer, but I dont know how much of an administrator he could be. Perhaps someone local might be looked upon more favorably by the locals. Then again, you have started to establish control via violence and fear... hm, I probably shouldn't advice you, I am sure you will find a suitable governor and rebuild your army in no time. Meanwhile, I will march South and demand the rest of Caliban surrenders peacefully.", Nanissis tone was soft, but there was also something sinister lying beneath. "Already, there is an urgent to write to Emperor Regis again. But it can wait. We need to celebrate, as much as we can. It really is a lovely river."

 

[turtwigwins]

Act I - Odaden Moves To War

Turn 4 - Year 912 - Late Fall

View attachment 912LateFall.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. Both find ways to intercept information or spread fear to weaken the opposition of the enemy. Luthais finds clever ways to buy more time, while the bandit queens gain influence with her tales spread by bards of Glamorgan.

===Allied Forces===

Baba Voyka, The Warsome Grandmother
Try and Take It // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Luminae
Province Fertility: 6/6
Strength: 4
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)
A Turned Informant - Using information gained about Althreiell Baba is better able to plan attacks. Add +1 to attack against any Althreiell province (2 Uses)


As the chill of late fall settled over the land, the people of Luminae braced themselves for the impending winter. In this time, devotees gathered, offering prayers and lighting candles to guide the souls of the dead to peace. Although they were vauge in who for, Baba could see clearly it was mourning the conquering of Moondar. The crisp air carried a sense of unease, with the war being at a halt, but the people still wondering on what Baba would do in their land. Rumors whispered of strange occurrences during the night—faint lights over the waters and unsettling dreams reported by the fishermen, with tales of moonlight shining have been made prevalent. While these phenomena stirred curiosity among the faithful, some began to wonder if they were signs from the gods, or warnings of something more sinister lurking on the horizon. Amidst the solemnity, concerns grew over the Bandit Queen, Freyja Stormveil, potentially using the coming cold to her advantage, as the harsh winter would soon make travel and defense even more difficult.

Leads:
Moonlight Waters - The waters seem unusually active with moonlight sometimes moving among them. Is this a sign of divine providence?
Build the Frostwall - Some of the nobles plead to Baba of reinforcing the eastern side of the country, laying traps for the threat of the bandit queen should she come in Winter

Aranea, the Mind Weaver
Everywhere at Once // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Luminae
Province Fertility: 6/6
Strength: 2
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.
Blood of the Minotaur - Enrage your troops with a bloodlust unmatched. If using this and winning a combat roll inflict 2 tokens of strength damage. If the combat is lost a coin will be flipped, on heads you inflict 1 additional strength damage to yourself with the bloodlust causing you to kill your own men in confusion. (1 Use)

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. The men of Luthais seem to take heart with the stopping of attacks with a doubt of the forces of Odaden to attack in Winter. While Aranea gains a boon from the huntsman she wonders if the blood of the minotaur is truly a boon that can be trusted. As the winter approaches Aranea wonders if a more permanent camp is needed to be have, perhaps she could requisition quartering from local villages. It might stir up disloyalty, but what would they have to raise against her strength?

Leads:
The Red-Eyed Wolf - A soldier under Aranea’s command has returned from a patrol claiming to have encountered a strange wolf in the woods—one with piercing red eyes who warned him to "turn back or be hunted." The soldier’s mind is clouded and unreliable after the encounter, but his insistence and the growing rumors of the Red-Eyed wolf as a chaotic force.
Quartering of Homes - Winter is a dangerous time, to be in the woods without shelter could lower the morale of her forces. Perhaps a warm hearth taken from those nearby could bolster spirits back.

===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: 2
Public Outcry - The heroic status of Luthais can cause disruption that may prevent an attack from happening against him in fall. Upon an attack against Luthais from Luminae in 912 he may roll a 1d4 and on a 4 that attack does not happen.

Luthais in exploring opportunities for holding off the impending march upon his borders takes a gamble in partaking in the harvest festival. Winning the competition he uses his charm to turn public perception against the armies stationed in the province, and the festival provides an excuse for the appeasement prone Countess to not deal with him in the moment. He now waits for winter hoping that in those months the forces of Odaden will stall, and he can receive reinforcements from southern provinces come spring.

Freyja Stormveil, the Bandit Queen
Liberate the Materiel // Come What May // Never Surrender
Location: Frostfell
Strength: 3
Cards:
Ice Storm - Upon victory in combat in Winter turns Freyja has a 1/2 chance to inflict 2 tokens damage (Infinite Uses)

As winter’s icy grip tightens over Frostfell, Freyja Stormveil, the Bandit Queen, grows ever more confident in her rule. The wars between Luminae and Althreiell hold no sway over her, as the empire’s struggles merely provide wealth flowing through her domain. The recent defeat of the Silver Swords mercenaries, who foolishly defied her tribute rule, has only strengthened her legend, with bards from Glammorgan spreading tales of her cunning and brutality. Her victory has drawn new recruits—hardened fighters and outcasts alike—eager to join her forces and reap the rewards of her growing influence. With winter deepening, Freyja's control over Frostfell’s treacherous roads becomes an even greater asset, as she prepares to exploit any weaknesses or riches that come her way.

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. Victories in both fronts in early fall lead to an establishing presence for the empire.


===Allied Forces===

Nanissis Yevro, The Poisonous Tongue
Meals from the Field // The One and Only // Drenched in Death
Location: Moondar
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. (2 Uses)
Knights of Illumination - Upon a battle loss against a general of Caliban do not lose a token ( 1 Use)
Upon conquering Bovech this card will be activated: The Men of Marriage - Gain 2 strength from the reinforcements of the newly wed Prince Kirin and Duchess Isobole

Nanissis comes into Moondar with a feeling of victory for his diplomatic efforts with the prince and the duchess. This doesn’t come without its cost with Bovech needing to be conquered on a timeline. One which if too focused on could also agitate the nation of Norale. Trailing through the serene woods of Moondar with their advanced architecture and art he also sees the weakness that could occur should insurrection come into play. Focus his efforts on the continued campaign against Caliban or turn West. A crossroads is apparent for Nanissis.

Secrets of the Architecture - The designs of the moon elves often lead to more questions than answers. Perhaps investigating the architecture could lead to additional insights.


Einar Jaddeth, The Brutal Bastard
Meals from the Field // The One and Only // Break their Spirits
Location: Moondar
Province Fertility: 7/7
Strength: 2
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)

With Moondar freshly conquered under Einar Jaddeth’s brutal command, Odaden’s banners now loom over a battered land. The conquest left scars on the province; villages still smolder from recent skirmishes, and the defiant moon elves eye the occupying forces with silent hatred. Einar’s campaign, ruthless and efficient, has torn through the heart of the moon elf resistance, though pockets of rebellion remain, smoldering like embers. His forces press on, and a few surrounding villages—less entrenched in the old ways—have bent the knee, begrudgingly accepting Odaden’s rule. Amid the tense aftermath, his officers report new findings, including a family of human engineers whose presence in the region may yet prove useful for maintaining the empire's hold, despite the uneasy peace and the province's hostile spirit.

Leads:
House of Crimson - One of the local churches of Lunara is home to the sect of the blood moon. Killing their prodigy the house may harbor resentment against their new ruler, but perhaps Einar is choosing to be defiant of fearing of their god.
Engineer Impressment - As he presses forward conquering Moondar one of the border villages that falls to his command is home to a family of renowned engineers. These are men not elves, and may serve the empire better than many of their countrymen, and don’t seem particularly religious.

Provinces Under Rule

Moondar:
Subordinate - Vacant
Economic Power: 2/4
Technological Power: 2/3
Fertility Power: 6/6
Manpower: 1/3
Disloyalty: 8/20

Kypher M. Solari, The Lazy General
Everywhere At Once // Symphony of War // Break their Spirits
Location: Budagyar
Province Fertility: 4/4
Strength: 2
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)
Ways of the Nomads - Once per season when in a steppe or plains region you may harvest one fertility from a province (3 Uses)
Braveheart - can negate a fear related card being used against you (1 use)


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. Kypher taking time to learn the ways of the land gains a better understanding of the way of the nomads, and a better chance of survival if needing to harvest food. The tides of battles stop with neither side being willing to pursue further action, but will this bring a disadvantage as the nomads regroup.

Leads:
Question of Purpose - Despite teaching their ways, Kypher has yet to use them to harvest from the province. With the man not pursuing conflict either, some local tribes begin to question the purpose of Imperial troops.
Priest of the Seven - One priest of the seven is seen in camp bringing his teachings to various of the soldiers. Perhaps Kypher could make use of his advice as well.


===The Enemy===

Hamlet Swinnard, the Boar
To Weather the Storm // Colleagues in Arms // Never Surrender
Location: Bovech
Strength: 3
Cards:
Fatten the Herd - Upon a successful combat flip a coin, on a heads gain one fertility resource (Unlimited uses)

The big man, Hamlet Swinnard, looks to the conquest of Caliban by Odaden with worry. Gouging himself on his province's famous cows he wonders about the future. Although he has had ambitions for the lands himself, his concerns to the lords of Norale fighting him for his own lands. Is it time to strike against the invading forces of Moondar in a pincer, or is it merely a time to fortify. Change is something that may bring him health, but also one that could lead to his slaughter.


Aolis Silverleaf, the Charter of the Stars
To Weather the Storm // Colleagues in Arms // Never Surrender
Location: Caliban
Strength: 3
Cards:
The Star Cycle - Upon being attacked or attacking may utilize his knowledge of the star cycle to try to outmaneuver opponents. A 1d4 will be rolled with a 4 adding +2 to his battle rolls. (infinite uses)

Hailing from one of Caliban’s most respected noble families, Aolis heritage is woven into the heart of Caliban’s ancient traditions. As a moon elf, he grew up under a reverence for the night sky, spending his youth mapping constellations and learning celestial lore. He combined his passion for astronomy with a talent for strategy, applying the stars' patterns to navigate and outmaneuver his opponents. With the coming advance of Odaden, Aolis makes plots to stop their advance before they take the last bastion of moon elven sovereignty.

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. Who knows what the future holds as Kirn pursues the beginning of a courtship.

Hectemnon, the Thundering Spear
Liberate the Materiel // Colleagues in Arms // A Reckoning for the Wicked
Location: Nalunali
Strength: 2
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. After inaction from Kypher, Hectemnon is content with the current stalemate.


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:
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.


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
Flanking Attack - Upon attacking into Wolven, Chilfroys army will support also attacking. This adds a +1 to both sides' attacks. (1 Uses)

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. His attack against the grinning wolves in conjunction with

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 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), Arlane Rivers (1)
Provinces Corruption - Odaden (2), Osyne (7)
Accumulated Latent Power - 30
Brackendales - known for their speed and agility using these horses can push a force to move with extra force. A general may move across 2 friendly provinces with a move action taking along up to 3 army strength with them. (3 uses)
Goblin Grudges - If attacking into Gurlap of late fall 912 successfully inflict 2 tokens of strength damage

Subordinates

Arlane Rivers, Beloved of The Rivers
Meals from the Field // Symphony of War // Chessmaster
Location: The Crossroads
Strength: 0
Cards:
Friend of The River Spirits - When defending a province with Rivers, or attacking into a province with Rivers Arlane gains a +1 to combat rolls. (Infinite Uses)
Corruption: 1

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. His investigation of the horse merchant’s plight and subsequent return of valuables gives him a great benefit in the brackendales handed over in exchange. Fine steeds of agility may be able to give him a greater advantage in repositioning across the board. Additionally, the thieves being ones of Kakorm results in a move against the crossroads. Luckily for Jannaxes the forces are repelled by his leadership and strategy, only opening another opportunity. His further investigation of rumors from merchants leads to him thinking of a potential opportunity to add land to the empire.

Leads:
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.
Dufoix Musketeers - A mercenary band of muskeeters from the Dufoix province appear to be in the province. To hire them would take economic power, or some other province. Is it worth the effort?


Jack Bower, The Cheat
Try and Take It // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Pinterra
Province Fertility: 3/3
Strength: 3
Economic Power: 1
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)
An Ordered Market - The merchants of Pinterra value Jack and his companies presence in Pinterra and will pay for his services. For every 3 consecutive turns that Jack spends in Pinterra with at least 1 army strength under his command he will gain 1 Economic Power. (Infinite Uses)
Open Arms - For the fall of 912 generals in Aberhald receives a -2 on battle rolls dealing with the sickness of the refugees forced upon them. Aberhald also receives 1 permanent manpower, and Pinterra loses 1 permanent manpower. (Instant - Through Fall of 912)

Jack utilizes the rebuttal to his trap by Nicholas Manolov as a call to war across the nation. His first advance against Manolov appears a success and the merchants who have thrown in support behind Jack throw celebrations. Whether Jack takes time to recruit from the jubilation, or merely continues his advance the tide does seem in his favor.

Leads:
The Echoes of the Past - An old ruined tower outside Pinterra has been the source of strange noises and sightings.
A Roused Populace - The people of Pinterra hear the calls of Jack and some of the youth wish to join his “righteous conquest”.


===The Enemy===

Nicholas Manolov, Heart of Aberhald
To Weather the Storm // Colleagues in Arms // A Truth Unassailable
Location: Aberhald
Strength: 2
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. This isn’t enough for the attack that they were prepared for from Pinterra. Ultimately the trolls of Jack’s forces wreak damage upon the forces of Aberhald. Steeling their resolve against the menace of the halfman Aberhald readies itself for more war.

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: 2
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, and the Jannaxes interfering with his tribes' plundering ways in tracking down those who attacked the horse merchant forces his hand into aggression. Sadly, the tempers being high is not one that provides for a sound mind, and instead they are driven back into their province. Internal conflict over what to do next may lead to opportunities for those who watch around him.

Nograk, The Bone Flayer
Meals from the Field // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Wolven
Strength: 2
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. Attacked in his home province Nograk inflicts losses upon Chivar and the Templars of the Frontier, but Richard again bests him in combat to the chagrin of the orc warlord who now sulks.

Chilfroy Pontier, The Warden of the Frontier
To Weather the Storm // Colleagues in Arms // Never Surrender
Location: Chivar
Strength: 2
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. He is encouraged by the word his subordinates work out in having an agreement to assist one another against the great threat to them both that is the Grinning Wolves. Eagerly awaiting word from Richard he is greatly heartened when he hears the forces of the Lionheart fended off an attack of the Bone Flayer slaying a good portion of the raiding forces before they retreated back to Wolven. Sadly, his advance does not work as planned with Richard, with his forces receiving losses, despite an ultimate equal amount dealt in kind to th orcs.

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. Her worry turns to question as she hears of the agreement with the Templars of the Frontier and wonders if there is more to the man then just a tyrant. Enough doubt that she turns her attention back to her seafaring ways, and lessens her watch upon the province of 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.

Monzia 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. The front now opens with Pescon falling under Munsie’s control, her agreements with the religious elite of the city leading to a fall that was sooner than many would have expected. This first conquest is not without notice either, with the crown instructing the powers of the faith of the seven to summon a great beast to her command. Now awaits the move of the lich, who for the moment has been eclipsed.

===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)
Last Croak Assassins - Upon an attack you may choose to use this card. If successful you enact an additional 1 token of damage. If the attack fails this card is lost . (Unlimited Uses)
Counterspell - Akhmenohtep may use this card to negate a magical card used against himself or his army by generals of the provinces of Saka, Khotep, or Semabehdet. (1 Use)

The people of Tobyou are what is called Toadu or the Toad-People and are quite a superstitious bunch of individuals. Akmenothep begins to feel even less welcome as Munsie moves to Pescon with her defeat of Perwin the Peacemaker while his forces are left behind in Tobyou. Still the hag remains as a potential point of observation. His visions gained from visiting the whispering willows will surely assist him in future conquests, so perhaps investigating this land further would be of benefit to him. There is also the point that Munsie has walked into a surrounded front herself. Perhaps it will all unravel and then he can come in and clean up the mess.

Leads:
The Swamp Hag - Tales tell of a swamp hag who makes home in Tobyou. The woman is known for making potions to aid in the many wants of man, but always at a cost. Is Ahkmenotep willing to pay?
Bloodroot Grove - In a remote area of the swamp grows a rare plant known as the Bloodroot, whose sap is said to enhance the physical capabilities of those who consume it at the cost of volatile emotions.

Munsie Moldive, The Beast Tamer
Everywhere at Once // Nothing is Safe // Break their Spirits
Location: Pescon
Province Fertility: 6/6
Strength: 4
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)
Eologmoth - The gigantic demonic monolith of some weird twisted design with a twisted design as if an elephant partook the rams head and grew dramatically is a force to fear. It also can soak up loads of damage as enemy armies look to take down the beast. Upon winning a combat you may choose to lose one use and deal another damage of strength, or upon losing a combat you may choose for Bologmoth to take the strength damage instead. (2 Uses)

There is still discord as the public slowly becomes more accepting with their religious leaders bringing a balance of the benefit of Munsie. Of course, greater disagreements could occur if the city was forced into holding the undead lich in its home. The grand chamber once held to the open democracy now sits dormant, and many wonder what Munsie’s move will be in ruling the new land, and the fate of its previous commander Perwin. Pescon and the land surrounding are quite forested, but the people have made several clearing for agriculture. Additionally the hunt is quite present in the land, as it is in its border of Monzia. A nature for individualism, the land also holds opportunities for finding adventurers to serve. Not focusing on the establishment of rule in the province, Munsie instead intimidates Garry Denmane while gaining ground in her first fight against King Helvandar.

Leads:
The Thorne Company - The enigmatic company of adventurers who recently returned from Antinia under contract to work for the defense of Pescon now find themselves without contract. Perhaps they could still be convinced to work as mercenaries, only for the new rulership.
Religious Leadership - While Munsie could easily promote one of her own ranks, the fostering relationship with the religious faction of the city could provide a talented individual. Various talents of the churches of Aphraline, goddess of love, Wysdros, God of nature, and Baros, God of battle all approach.

Provinces Under Rule

Pescon:
Subordinate - Vacant
Economic Power: 3/4
Technological Power: 1/2
Fertility Power: 6/6
Manpower: 2/3
Disloyalty: 6/20

===The Enemy===

??????
? // ? // ?
Location: Antinia
Strength: 4
Cards:
Little is known of who the true commander of the Antinian people is. One would have to investigate in a greater detail to have a better understanding before making a decision to invade the fiercely isolationist land. With little in communication, perhaps the adventurers returning home to Pescon would be able to offer insights into their neighbors to the north. The question also remains if it's worth conquering a people who can’t communicate in spoken word to begin with. Still, the mentions of the great works created may mean there is more to these creatures than on first glance.

King Aldric Helvandar, The Ledgered
With Guile and Cunning // A Master of the Art // A Truth Unassailable
Location: Monzia
Strength: 3
Cards:
The Coin Belt - Once every season for the cost of 1 economic power Aldric may attempt to buy off a unit of strength of an opposing enemy adding it to his forces if a 4 is rolled on a 1d4. This attempt uses a turn action. (Infinite Uses)

King Aldric Helvandar in his younger years thought too little of the plights of the people, his greater focus on the accumulation of wealth. The kingdom of Monzia was no stranger to switching royalty, and Aldric wanted to ensure his family had the power in coin to back up their rule. This eventually led to the city of Pescon leading a revolt, one that he could have most likely put down if he trusted those at his back. Paranoid, but seeing an opportunity for reclaiming his kingdom, he looks to Munsie’s new conquest as a rallying point to his kingdom. Still, the situation of those around him isn’t as enthusiastic. And the first move comes against him with Munsie winning an initial combat against the king.

Garry Denmane, The Old Guard
To Weather the Storm // Colleagues in Arms // Never Surrender
Location: Scandia
Strength: 2
Cards:
Unlike many of the families around them the Denmane’s have stood at their station as rulers of Scandia for generations. Focusing on his own hunters and their loyalties Garry has carried on the traditions of his forefathers with grace. He sees the change of Pescon as a worrying threat, but is also concerned about leading his people onto greater war. As Munsie visits and reveals Eoglomoth to him he moves to current inaction. Perhaps falling into the rule of Odaden is best for his aims.

Surbag Brooke, The Shadownapper
With Guile and Cunning // Colleagues in Arms // A Reckoning for the Wicked
Location: The Black Crag
Strength: 2
Cards:
Shadow Kidnap - Upon a successful attack Surbag may roll a 1d4 and on a 4 kidnap an NPC (Can be narrative or Subordinate) taking them into his captivity. (Infinite uses)

Surbag always had a keen mind when growing up. In his early raids he consistently pointed out ineffectiveness in their methods, and grew frustrated with the explanations of tradition and honor. Growing fed up with the clans of the black crag he waited for an adventuring party to come, and sprung his trap of defection. One of the members, Roslin Brooke took pity upon Surbag, and offered to have him schooled and trained in a fine college in Monzia. Surbag took in the knowledge greedily there, and found he had an innate talent for control of the shadows. In this time also grew his relationship with Roslin who he would marry. After years of adventuring he would somehow return home and grow to be a leader of the Black Crag. This has led to rampant speculation, but the once favorable adventurers have now grown an efficient raider culture. Using shadow magic and night Surbag leads the Black Crag to target key points of interest or objectives. He attempts to attack Munsie using her focus upon Monzia as a chance for success, but is unsuccessful being repelled by her forces.

 

[Crocodile]

Jannexas, Whisper of Sin
Turn 4, Act 1
​

---

The sinister black coach of Jannexas crested the hill, drawn by spectral steeds rather than his prized Brackendales. Now was not the time to bring those lovelies into the game. The coach jerked to a halt as horned driver in fine clothes hops down and opens the door with a deep bow. Dark mist flowed from beneath the robes of Jannexas as he exited to look out over the valley they had just left. Arlane Rivers some followers her master out and regards the valley as well.

"I suppose its time to be more useful that merely lurking here in the Crossroads?" Arlane mused as she looks to her demonic patron. Jannexas chuckles in his inhuman yet alluring voice as his masked visage turned towards her.

"Oh yes, my dear. While I do enjoy pulling strings, I have to cut some too. The scent of Greed in Gurlap calls to me. But it may not be a Greed I can foster. The Goblins are not in line with the will of the Emperor. A rather sad state of affairs for them. Perhaps... I can find those in need of... help..." Jannexas gives a dark laugh. Arlane manages a weak smile, wary of the power of her master. She laughs a little in support.

"Shall we go then, master? Your army of sinful souls is ready to march," Arlane said as she looks back out to the valley and the personal army of the demon lord even now fully forming up to move out. Banners snapped in the wind being the demonic sigil of the Demon of the Outer Void.

"Yes, let us... go for a jaunt." Jannexas glides back into the coach as Arlane follows him in. A great ball of greenish witchfire shot into sky above and detonated. A roar of chants rose up from the valley bellow as marching feet can start to be hear. Jannexas laughs louder and more malevolently from his carriage as it starts off on the road to Gurlap.

---

Action
Invade Gurlap! - The Sinful Host marches into Gurlap against the Goblins.

Card
Goblin Grudges! - Let the Sin flow!

 

[Twist]

To Ulx Wheatmaker, of Mudkadi,

Greetings to ya, friend. I am General Jack Bower of the Empire, writing to ya from Pinterra. I don’t write to ya as a general of the powerful Emperor Regis but as a simple half man who’s feeling a bit outta his depth, to tell the ol' onest truth. I’ve found myself in a place where propa friends are much needed, and I hope ya might be one of em.

The people here in Pinterra have tried to make it a better place—cleaner streets and rich markets. But King Nick of ol' Aberhald sees this as some kinda offense against im, though I can’t rightly say why. Instead of letting us be, he’s gone and threatened us, calling us out as if we were criminals, all because we’re working to improve our land, much like urself.

We’re not looking to start fights here; heck I even sent im my best wrote letta of apology. We only want to keep our own safe. But with his threats, it’s clear Nicky won’t let that be. That’s why I’m writing to you. I need a friend who understands making things betta f'others and can guide me. Someone who knows more than me, that’s for certain. I’m no stranger to defending the Empire, but this... well, it’s different from anything I’ve ad to andle befor.

If you were willing to lend a hand, both Pinterra and the Empire would member it. The Emperor is a greatful man to those who elp his people, and we’d never forget such a kindness. I ope you’ll consider standing with me, for now and da future. I just wanna keep Pinterra safe and make it better, without anyone like ol' Nick getting in our way.

Sincerely and with da utmost respect,
General Jack Bower of The Empire

turtwigwins

 

[dikdik]

What a lucky girl… It echoed in a way most bothersome, complimented by the glare of the sun throbbing deep into his skull. She’d been getting to him, hm? Einar tugged at his collar again. Knowing the prince of pointless jabber, it likely meant nothing, but a sliver of doubt, of paranoia, wiggled its way through Einar’s muddled thoughts as Nanissis’ compliments and ramblings continued. What was he doing, exactly, with care and accolades seeping from his poisonous tongue? Perhaps overanalyzing, overthinking since he wasn’t in a particularly capable headspace. He’d hold his worry close, at least for now. The perception of weakness, however accurate, would only serve to kill him. He almost didn’t care. Almost.

The Ramblings of Nanissis Yevro, published circa 912, the year of our great Emperor, continued and continued and continued and just for a shadow of a moment Einar lost himself in the bouncy cadence of it, the airiness of compliments catching in the elf’s throat, its performative wisdom grating through the thrumming dangling at the back of his head. A chill whipped down Einar’s spine as the breeze continued to swirl off the lapping edge of the water. Weight continued to root itself to the earth through one side, provoking a subtle vertigo. Uncertain if it was imagined or a threat, Einar stood straighter, sipping slowly the sweet liquid still in his glass as Nanissis refilled his own with haste, his words regaining their meaning. Something of a carrot and a stick. What euphemism was that? Bah, elves.

“What’s it like? Becoming a purported savior for a people you’ve been plotting against?” Though through a thin smile, hypocrisy was a twisted little bastard. As were the two standing on the edge of a river that had run bloody a few nights before. Discussion of coercing the Duchess of Veloria into marriage with Kirin through violence, eh? Slimy fucker, this one. The whole lot of ‘em. Sucking in a deep breath, a vacant stare followed the curling and cupping of tiny waves rippling through the surface of the river. What if he just walked into it? What if he just sank into its bed? Into its mud?

Nanissis’ continued mullings and strollings dragged Einar from his reverie. He followed on feet he had to consciously force to steady. “I will help you take Bovech. Caliban, too. But my name will not be associated with coercing a Duchess into marrying Kirin. You’re the slimy one... Or, just a carrot.” Einar chuckled at the last bit, not quite sure where any of the words had come from until he felt them escaping his mouth. “Orm will remain with my army. And with me. He’s too talented to waste on governing Moondar. And no, you don’t need to advise me, you venomous bastard. I’m clearly perfectly capable of making decisions. It is a beautiful river, isn’t it?” A spluttered laugh lingered in the space before he continued. “When you’re ready, we can head back to camp. Get to planning. A meeting tent should already have maps splayed out. We can have staff cook a meal. Bring wine. Whatever you’d like.” Oh, the last thing his throbbing head needed was more wine.

It felt uneasy, handing any amount of control over to Nanissis. Even if it was just an offer of choosing what’s for dinner. That was fine. What could he do, anyways?

 

[turtwigwins]

To Ulx Wheatmaker, of Mudkadi,

Greetings to ya, friend. I am General Jack Bower of the Empire, writing to ya from Pinterra. I don’t write to ya as a general of the powerful Emperor Regis but as a simple half man who’s feeling a bit outta his depth, to tell the ol' onest truth. I’ve found myself in a place where propa friends are much needed, and I hope ya might be one of em.

The people here in Pinterra have tried to make it a better place—cleaner streets and rich markets. But King Nick of ol' Aberhald sees this as some kinda offense against im, though I can’t rightly say why. Instead of letting us be, he’s gone and threatened us, calling us out as if we were criminals, all because we’re working to improve our land, much like urself.

We’re not looking to start fights here; heck I even sent im my best wrote letta of apology. We only want to keep our own safe. But with his threats, it’s clear Nicky won’t let that be. That’s why I’m writing to you. I need a friend who understands making things betta f'others and can guide me. Someone who knows more than me, that’s for certain. I’m no stranger to defending the Empire, but this... well, it’s different from anything I’ve ad to andle befor.

If you were willing to lend a hand, both Pinterra and the Empire would member it. The Emperor is a greatful man to those who elp his people, and we’d never forget such a kindness. I ope you’ll consider standing with me, for now and da future. I just wanna keep Pinterra safe and make it better, without anyone like ol' Nick getting in our way.

Sincerely and with da utmost respect,
General Jack Bower of The Empire

General Bower,

Your letter reached my hands, a peculiar thing in itself. Few in the Empire, let alone its generals, have shown interest in the words of a goblin farmer, even one as civilized as some call me. I appreciate your humility in your tone. It is a rare thing to receive a missive from a man of your standing that doesn’t drip with orders or veiled threats.

Mudkadi has been, for many years, a land of little interest to kings and conquerors. Its soil grows crops better than it grows grudges. My people, goblins as most call us, have worked tirelessly to feed ourselves and our neighbors. The days of conflict with Jorvan Lovona are behind us, and even King Nicholas of Aberhald, for all his territorial pride, has shown respect for our work. The balance we’ve struck with our neighbors is delicate, General. Your words suggest you are earnest, but I fear that helping Pinterra against Nicholas could upset what peace we’ve eked out of the dirt.

You see, Nicholas has been fair to Mudkadi, even when my reforms shifted our focus to agriculture instead of war. I cannot say with confidence that aligning with you wouldn’t make us a target. And though goblins have strong backs, we are no match for an angry king or a war-hungry empire.

Still, your plight isn’t lost on me. I understand the desire to protect your people and the changes you’re striving for. I’ve lived that struggle, albeit with more tools in hand than weapons. Know this: goblins aren’t cowards, but we are cautious. Before I can consider lending aid, I need assurances—assurances that my people will not bear the brunt of any fallout, that Mudkadi will not be crushed beneath the weight of imperial ambitions or Aberhald’s wrath.

You’ve made the first step by reaching out. Let’s see if the soil between us is fertile enough for something to grow.

Respectfully,
Ulx Wheatmaker

 

[Abstracty]

"Well, I would have to get used to it. I don't imagine it will be all adoration and worship straight away, but I think I rather fancy myself as a savior of the southern masses.", Nanissis lightly chuckled along, as General Einar made his suggestions about the plan he had laid out. It was hard to grasp what thoughts really lay behind Einars smile, as he clearly wasn't in his right mind. His long-winded ramblings had afforded the Elf a good opportunity to confirm this. "Coercing... what a terrible word to describe the Princes courtship...", he soon sighed deeply and with faux offense. "You butchered hundreds, but a marriage tastes foul to you?", Nanissis didn't seem to mind it at all, but he absolutely had to bring it up in a teasing tone. The whole situation was clearly amusing to him and the bloodshed likely was as well. But all the teasing had to come to an end, as Einar agreed to help with Bovech and Caliban.

"And this slimy carrot hereby thanks you for your gracious support.", he smiled, by now entirely sure that Einar was concussed. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage? Nanissis was happy to just stir through the pond a little and enjoy the banter. "It clearly is a beautiful river. I heard the region holds quite a lot of hidden beauty, but I am not just here to advise unnecessarily and go sightseeing. You want Orm by your side, very well then. I will not meddle with your choice of governor.", he also got into a bit of rambling, as he considered ways in which to meddle with Einars choice of governor. He trusted the other general to make a good pick once he was back in his right mind, but if he could find a way of improving his own hand he would always do so. "Lets go plan then.", he gestured back to the camp, as soon as it was offered, though his smile revealed that he intended not to let the "venomous bastard" comment slide. It was a truthful statement and didn't bother Nanissis, he just didn't enjoy the tone. Therefore, it didn't take long for him to get some very grand ideas about their meal and his voice sing-songed merrily up and down as he laid them out on their way back.

"How very kind of you to offer. Dining while on the road truly grows stale quickly. No less than a full seven course meal will do and there is so much to catch up on. I'd dare wager these parts have some excquisite truffles, one of my personal favorite appetizers, white truffels to be exact. I would also like some green asparagus, lightly charred in yak butter and served with foie gras. Next, a simple chicken soup, but I would have the chicken replaced with grilled pheasant and it should come with a champagne-and-mushroom cream. Some abalone next, though I wonder how we could get these here fresh. I suppose pickled ox tongue must do. Perhaps a cheese and fruit platter to accompany the wine, twenty-seven different types should suffice, we are on the road. I do like olives, raisins not so much. A lovely swordfish for the first main course, with steamed vegetables and black rice. Make an omelette from three dozen quail eggs, then serve it with ambergris on gilded rye bread. Since we have been such lovely bastards, we deserve extra dessert. Always enjoy a saffron cake and candied almonds. Some Elven honey to glaze over crispy grilled flamingo eyelids. And a Poire belle Helene to top it all of. I wonder which wines would go best with that. I would have suggested an ortolan as well, but that must be saved for truly special occasions.", he indeed had the whole thing planned out rather quickly, but as they returned to the camp and a steward attended to them, Nanissis humbly waved him off. "Just bring us whatever is available, we're not fussy."

Satisfied with the little stroll in the woods, the Elf then sat down with his fellow general to properly discuss their strategy. "Prince Kirin has put us under some time pressure. Moondar needs stabilizing, but I would really like to exploit the chaos whilst still possible. You don't want to coerce the Duchess, but you will surely agree that we must coerce the remaining Calibanians. Word from my scouts has it, that a certain Aolis Silverleaf has rallied the remaining Moon Elf forces to defend the South. With a strong family name as his, he might just become a symbol of hope for them. Before that happens, I shall write to this Aolis Silverleaf. They put a lot of faith into their constellations, I would make it clear to him that all signs point towards their surrender. It would help you restore order in Moondar to know our southern front secure. If indeed Silverleaf submits, we can turn our attention to Bovech long before winter."

 

[Twist]

Jack was resting by the edge of his forward camp, his fingers idly tracing the rough grain of a carved, beaten wooden stool. The faint scent of a smouldering fire lingered around him, blending with the earthy smell of the fields. He was just a step away from the camp's boundary, where the worn path led back toward Pinterra. When he noticed the group of youths approaching—a mix of farm boys with strong hands and streetwise lads with sharp eyes—he didn’t rise or straighten. "Alright lads." greeted Jack "Bit far from home ain't ya?"

One boy stepped forward, earnest and resolute. "Commander Bower, sir?" he ventured, voice brimming with youthful courage. "We want to join you. To help Pinterra."

Jack’s gaze slid to the boy, his expression thoughtful yet cautious, as though he were struggling with some deeper decision. He let his gaze drift thoughtfully toward the distant fields as though weighed down by an unseen burden. “Ya know,” he began slowly, almost with a pained reluctance, “there’s nothing glorious in what we’re doing ere, lad. This is a heavy task… one I wouldn’t wish on any of ya.”

The eldest youth, whom Jack recognized as the shopkeeper’s son, Jub, stood a bit taller. Where his father was skinny, this lad was broad “But Pinterra needs this, sir. We’ve heard the tales of your courage and… my father says you’re fighting for us. We’d be honoured to fight for you.”

Jack let out a low, regretful sigh, nodding slightly as if contemplating the weight of the young man’s words. He made sure to keep his voice soft, almost confessional. “What I do, I do for Pinterra,” he said, his gaze meeting each of theirs with a sombre intensity. “If this burden is mine to bear, well it is what it is. I’ve tooken it up for da good of the people… to shield them, as best I can.”

The youngest of the group—a scrawny boy who barely looked old enough to swing a blade—spoke up, his voice tremulous but determined. “We know it’s dangerous, sir. But we’re ready. Pinterra’s our home, and we want to protect it… like you do.”

Jack looked down, letting his brow crease as though wrestling with the notion. After a moment, he exhaled deeply, as if making a decision he’d hoped to avoid. “Very well,” he said, voice touched with reluctant acceptance. “If this is truly your choice… then I’ll allow it. But don’t think it’s an easy road. No, lads… you’ll be joining me in bearing this burden, in taking on the weight of this duty. There’s no turning back.”

He glanced over his shoulder, spotting Burlak, his loyal, towering ogre lieutenant, watching from a distance. Jack gestured him over with a subtle nod. The ogre lumbered toward them, his hulking frame casting a shadow over the eager faces of the young recruits.

“These fine young men have chosen to stand with us, Burlak,” Jack explained, his voice low but laden with a quiet resolve. “See to it that they’re trained well an propa. They’re… our future, after all.”

Burlak grunted, eyeing the youths with an assessing glance. “Right. They’ll learn,” he rumbled, his tusked grin both intimidating and approving.

He watched as Burlak led them away, the young men glancing back with admiration and trust in their eyes. Jack knew he’d planted the seeds. As they disappeared into the camp, Jack allowed himself a brief, satisfied smile. They were his now, caught in the quiet, seemingly noble web he’d woven around them. And perhaps their was more such children?

Turn Action
Follow Lead: A Roused Populace - The people of Pinterra hear the calls of Jack and some of the youth wish to join his “righteous conquest”.

 

[dikdik]

Men with gold emblazoned on their pauldrons matching his own were combing through the heaps of bodies, plucking rings, knives, false teeth, anything that could help them escape from this life. But that was wishful thinking. They'd spend it on prostitutes, ale, and betting on their lucky numbers before they chose to leave. It served those vile excuses for human beings to serve on the battlefield. Disgusting lot, they were.

Einar moved to a squat by the boy, wiping away the trickle of vomit at the corners of his mouth, the tinnitus intensifying and a faintness fading through his vision. Was this child the fifth? Two today, three yesterday? Einar was living on borrowed time, stealing years from orphans to add them to his own pathetic life. Borrowed time, sure. Through brutality that was forced down his throat by serving in Madden’s army. It wasn’t his fault. It could never be his fault. He couldn’t let it.

A particularly large man, shorter than Einar though built like a stone wall, whose armor was a haphazard combination of steel and leather stalked over to him, brief panic subsiding as the gold on his shoulder came into view. Not only gold, but a cloth tied on it, revealing him as an officer. Bending over, the man yanked the thin shirt covering the child, flipping him over and exposing his insides to the air with a brutality befitting a vulture. He left the boy alone, eyes locking with Einar’s. A few flies scattered into the noonday light, scorching sun-

-nearly blinding irritated eyes, victim to a lingering, stubborn vertigo that would not leave. Einar found himself pacing with Nanissis back towards camp, all the while staring up at the sky, eyes closed, absorbing the warmth of the sun and reflecting on particularly unpleasant Memory. Fucking dirty mistress, she was. Settling herself into all the cracks and permeating, freezing, expanding, melting, and creeping further. “Butchered, eh?” Einar repeated absently to Nanissis jab at his revulsion. He started humming a nearly inaudible song to himself as they continued, Nanissis quick to ramble on and on and on and on about whatever he’d like for dinner. Half the words the elf spewed, Einar didn’t even recognize. “Truffles would be a hard find-” The elf continued. “What’s a yak?” And continued. “Twenty-seven what?” And continued. “Quail eggs-” And continued. And so Einar stopped interrupting and started pondering instead. Rice came in more than one variety? And, lovely bastards deserving desserts or not, what in the Seven Hells was saffron? “I’m stopping you there. What in the fuck is a flamingo?” Einar stifled a laugh as he mispronounced the word in a most ungraceful way, the o elongating, rounding out in his mouth.

Snickering turned into a tugging at his collar and shirt as they approached camp. Had to remain presentable after disappearing for days. Had to keep from feeling like that fucking shirt was going to strangle him against his raw bruises. Orm appeared behind them, half escorting them, half following them to the tent. Nanissis’ starkly contrasting request of a steward for whatever food they’d have prepared procured an eye roll as Einar led him into the planning tent, sitting in a chair at the table with maps spread across it. Orm waited just outside, silent. Einar slinked forwards in the seat, rubbing his eyes and breathing deeply, listening to Nanissis suggestions and thoughts about their strategy moving forward. In truth, Einar was grossly incompetent in this moment, and he had been for days. He nearly didn’t trust himself to make decisions. But someone had to. He could. He’d been through worse and done more after.

A deadline? A deadline wasn’t exactly what Einar’d like to be under in this moment, but it was delivered by the Prince, so they must oblige. “Coercion into a marriage… I don’t know, it's grimy.” Words slipped out. “Sure, sure. Writing to the Moon Elves’ Silverleaf savior would be wise. Make this whole thing a bit smoother. Your… diplomacy… would give me time to breathe." Sleep. Forever. Sink into that river. "And to muster, of course. You’d be all the wiser to write as soon as you’re able.” Flamingo. Flaming-ow. Stupid foreign words. “Last I heard, scouts had come across a bastion of engineers here in Moondar. With my, er, rest, being… paramount, I think it wise to investigate.”

Much to his ado. Einar tugged at his collar again, leaning back into his chair in an attempt to straighten out. Even just the grace of cloth against his throat had him claustrophobic and restless, a hollow heart. Something was always hollow. Something was always missing. In this particular moment, it was the absence of a carafe of water from the meeting tent. Perhaps his staff wasn’t expecting them to meet in the tent. Perhaps they were careless and slow today. Unacceptable.

Just as his irritation, and his waiting on Nanissis’ reply, lingered in the air, Orm flicked open the edge of the tent, dinner had arrived. As had water, glasses, whatever else stewards had carted in on their trays and in their arms. Staff carefully arranged small and stout tables with dishes, plain though flavorful, near the Generals, so as to avoid placing anything on the table where maps were present. They were expensive, though stupid pieces of paper. Though the importance of this meeting was more than apparent, Einar wished for a just a fleeting moment he was in his own quarters, splitting the meal with Aza. Aza. Aza.

 

[Abstracty]

"Butchered.", Nanissis confirmed nonchalantly, if only to have the last word. He wondered how present Einars mind truly was at the moment, though it did not stop him from rambling of his desired ingredients and meals. The constant questions confirmed that General Jaddeth was still somewhat lucid and the Elf clearly enjoyed the additional confusion he could cause with his words. "Flaming-ow? Never heard of that.", he smirked, as he imitated the poor attempt at pronounciation, even adding some extra long drawl to it. "But a flamingo, well, its quite a delicious bird. Think of it like a fancy pink chicken on stilts. As for a quail egg, its an egg layed by a quail. A quail, of course, being a different kind of bird. A very small forest chicken, if you like. And by now you will have guessed what a yak is. Correct, its a very hairy cow. One day, when we are done sifting through the backwoods of Caliban and Bovech, I will invite you to a proper feast at a lovely mansion. Might teach you all about the delicious little critters of the world then.", he still took the time to answer the questions in his unique way, but only as they were getting prepared to plan inside the map tent.

It didn't take long for Nanissis to understand, that he would have to do much of the work himself. It would give him unique opportunities to position his own troops more favorably, though he soon felt like it was barely worth the effort. Einar was in no state to properly agree with anything and his officers would advice him to caution once he sobered up. "Its grimy, aye. What have we done that wasn't grimy? You poisoned a bloody river!", Nanissis laughed, not feeling bad about any of their deeds, but for once caught off guard by the persistent audacity. "I'd mount that bitch myself, if need be. Even if there wasn't any need, never layed with a Duchess. Alas, we must do whats best for the Empire.", he couldn't quite let the topic go. "Do whats best for myself and will gain me the most favor.", he quietly thought to himself, as he sighed and grabbed the ink and paper from the table behind them. "You are quite right, and the sooner I get to writing the letter, the better for all of us. Don't want the Moon Elves to know that you need to catch your breath.", he soon regained his composure and usual soft tone. He waited patiently for the stewards to arrange everything for them, but opted to just have some fresh water for the moment. "Engineers you say? Funny you should mention it. I intend to investigate the local architecture, now that we can do so. Perhaps it will hold some more insight on their beliefs I can use against them.", Nanissis replied with a raised eyebrow and a smile. As the two of them ate their dinner, they used the time to plot the letter together, so when they were done, Nanissis could immediately begin writing.

turtwigwins
"To the esteemed Charter of the Stars Aolis Silverleaf,

I, General Nanissis Yevro, hereby offer you to surrender peacefully and honorably for an immediate ceasefire and lasting end of hostilities between the people of Odaden and Caliban. In the name of his grace, Emperor Regis, first of his name, I urge you to consider my words and find in your heart the strength necessary to spare further Elven blood. As you will be aware, it was the warmonger, Valindra Redmoon, who incited hostilities by viciously attacking Odaden. Not half a year later you find her army shattered and Moondar under our authority, as General Einar Jaddeth won the field. You will find him doing so again with even less mercy. Therefore, as a fellow Elf, I feel compelled to offer a peaceful alternative, especially as I understand that Valindra Redmoon must have acted without your prior knowledge and outside all law. Lay down your weapons and surrender Caliban to my authority and I assure you, that the Moon Elf culture will live on and even prosper as part of the Empire. As a sign of my goodwill for your people, I will personally offer you the position of Governor of Caliban in accordance with imperial law. I also guarantee you freedom of worship according to your own customs, so long as you do not foment hatred against the Faith of the Seven. We offer a full exchange of all prisoners of war, officers and footsoldiers. As another sign of goodwill, this prisoner exchange is independent from all other arrangements, you shall find it valid even if you decline to bend the knee.

Search the firmament well, Aolis Silverleaf, every possible constellation points to our victory in case of continued hostilities. Accept and surrender within a fortnight or I am compelled to join General Einar Jaddeth in ending the war on less favorable terms. I wish you good fortune and wisdom.

With best regards and seven blessings,
General Nanissis Yevro"

As Nanissis read the letter back to Einar, he smirked. "That should do it. At least if they know whats good for them. I had some birds fly out to spread unrest in Caliban, the letter will arrive at fertile grounds, I imagine. Now, your reputation suggests, that you will disapprove of me releasing the prisoners. But they would only add to the stories of our might and Calibanians inevitable defeat once they march home. Of course, we will release those suitably intimidated first, wouldn't want to be the defiant ones to become heroic figureheads.", he explained one of his decisions, before neatly folding the letter into an envelope and sealing it shut. A drop of hot wax hit his own skin and the Elf bit his lip. "Now, if you'll excuse me... I have some civil engineering to study and you... well, you need to rest. I won't keep you waiting for long, oh favorite bastard."