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Post by cerdigon on Sept 19, 2014 2:58:52 GMT
Somewhere within the Great Forest
To belong, it was all that Prince Aeron had ever wanted. He had been an outcast at his grandfather's court. The would be heir of Cerdigon and Sefti was a pariah. There were calls daily for his head, whispers that he should've been smothered in his crib. His mother had been his one solace but even she could not protect him. He was a freak, a monster because of the wings that adorned his back. His features were not quite elf and not quite Sylph. He was taller than most Sylph's but far shorter than most of the Elven folk. He was fluid and graceful like a Sylph, yet grizzled and muscled like their Elven cousins. As he aged, those wings grew stronger.. first they could barely lift him off the ground...but now they carried him towards the heavens.
Now, he was powerful, strong, and fit. A match for any Sylph in combat. Yet something still eluded the young warrior as he crept through the forest. He was completely alone. Only the howls of wolves and the cries of animals in the night. The moonlight was his only source of his illumination, but it did not matter. He could see perfectly in the dark as it was. It had come through here, broken brush, smears of blood and hoof prints leaving a trail for the warrior to follow.
The White Stag.
It was a sacred beast to both Sylph and Elf.
It was elusive, a sacred creature of Taranis, the forest God.
To kill one within the King's Sacred Grove was a serious crime.
Unless you were a Prince of the Blood. If you were not favored by Taranis it was said that he would strike you down where you stood for daring to hunt within his domain,
Killing the stag and claiming its antlers was the first step on a long road for Prince Aeron to belong. The teachings of Aed had been beaten into him from childhood, through both rod and scripture. The Sylph's offered a new path to reclaim his heritage. While the worship of Taranis had been banished to the forest, the King had done little to persecute these cults. Cadoc tolerated, though not openly.
He found the stag dying within the grove. With one smooth motion, he slashed his throat. Aeron drank deeply of the blood, reveling in the kill. His heart racing as he waited for divine retribution, all his life he had been told that he was unworthy, a monster, a hybrid creature that should be put to death. Here were the Gods chance, whether it be Taranis or Aed!
There was no divine bolt of lightning to claim the Prince. Instead, he emerged from the forest with the animals hide and antlers freshly skinned. The antlers would be filed down and fastened to the Prince's helm, a mark of prestige, while the hide would be fashioned into a fine white cloak. Yet it wasn't the ornamental decorations that Aeron was looking forward too...it was at the robed figure riding on a horse up ahead.
His hood was down, his face careful not to be exposed.
'' Well done. '' It was enough, those two simple words were what Aeron had been craving from his father for years. A priest dabbed the sigil of Taranis onto his forehead before his father dug his spurs into the flanks of his horse, along with his small bodyguard, towards the manor that loomed in the distance.
SUMMARY:
-- Prince Aeron long since declared an outcast by his grandfather, dabbles in the local religion of the Fae, seeking acceptance from his people.
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Post by cerdigon on Sept 21, 2014 1:06:38 GMT
War Council; Hakin
'' King Jotheim is dead. '' The War Council sat in brooding silence as the Usurper pinned each member under his gaze.
'' As is his son. '' Mistress Aelwen murmured from the corner of the room. If Lord Carian was not mistaken, the bitch look quite pleased with herself.
'' Tomorrow we sharpen our swords and ready for battle. The Kingdom of Sefti has but one choice. Accept my son as Jotheim's rightful heir and return my wife, whom has been held hostage for so many long years to me or face the consequences of their many insults against this nation '' The War Council pounded their fists on the table in agreement. Of course, Carian knew by 'insults against this nation', he meant insults against Cadoc. The Usurper was known for his grudges.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
War was a hard business. There would be death, destruction, the slaughter of thousands. But all of those were inconsequential, as a great King once said, arrows cost money, the dead nothing. Lord Carian stared hard at his ledger, scribbled with all manner of notes, numbers, and what was owed to the Crown. The Kingdom of Cerdigon might have been built upon the machinations of it's current King but it was Carian that financed it.
The 'wingless' one had climbed a long way since his days as the overseer of a salt mine. He had always been good with hard numbers, the rate of replenishment required to keep the mine going, maximizing the profit potential by giving the workers just enough food to keep going. Long fingertips ran down the ledger, quill in hand. With war on the horizon, whom was to suffer to raise the needed coin?
Additional tariffs on the merchants perhaps?
A war tax levied on the peasantry?
Or perhaps a few estates of the nobility could be liquidated?
The candle would burn low tonight as the sound of Carian's abacus rattled throughout the chamber, each calculation spelling doom for some poor fool in the kingdom.
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Post by cerdigon on Oct 13, 2014 15:27:23 GMT
The Great Forest
The stench of death was everywhere.
Corpses littered the forest, one could walk for hundreds of yards without touching the ground. The evidence of violence was everywhere. A Cerdigonian soldier had been ran through with a spear so hard that he had been impaled into a tree. Not more than a few feet away, a Seftian had been crushed to little more than bloody pulp after a horse had ran him down. Vengeance on the defeated after the battle was swift. It wasn't uncommon to see men taking trophies. Gold teeth were knocked out, ears were hacked off to make gruesome necklaces, and Orc muskets seized as trophies. The occasional pop of discharging rifles in the distance made Prince Aeron's horse jerk. A swift pull of the reigns calmed the beast as the Prince eased his way through the scene of death.
'' PRINCE AERON! PRINCE AERON! '' The voices followed him through the forest, soldiers smashing blades on shields or breastplates in salute of the young Prince that sought out his lost throne. Yet the battle had not been decisive.... his aunt had escaped after all, with a large chunk of her foreign mercenaries and what was left of the Seftian Royal Army. More battles would have to be fought and Aeron realized that this war was far from over.
He found General Eurion sitting on a tree stump, noisily eating a piece of fruit, only occasionally stopping to spit out seeds.
'' I see you survived your first battle. '' Eurion said in between bites of fruit as the Prince dismounted.
'' I sat in the rear while Vardic Whitestag seized the glory. '' Aeron replied petulantly.
'' Aye, I'm sure what's left of Vardic Whitestag will appreciate his place in history. '' The General said with a derisive snort.
'' You have to be alive in order to rule bo---..... I mean Prince... You'll earn your spurs yet. Just not here, in this Aed forsaken forest. Those men out there died for you. Go talk with them, visit the wounded, they might be little more than peasants but they spilled blood here today for your claim. A few little words from a King will fill a man with courage. '' The Prince nodded grimly, his stomach churning as he struggled to take in the scene around him. He was no stranger to blood but on this scale....it boggled the Prince's young mind.
'' What do we do now? '' Aeron said finally.
Eurion tossed the piece of fruit away to stand, like an explorer studying a map of slaughter and plotting the next best course through the field of bodies.
'' Now we wait for the enemy to come out. We'll chase them for a while longer but the Wild Hunt has run off. We'll go home soon... and finish this next season. No choice now that they've retreated back to the capital. ''
'' We're in a stalemate...for the moment. '' The General said grimly. '' Do not worry my Prince, soon, you'll have a crown to wear. ''
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Post by aspenivan on Oct 15, 2014 7:56:50 GMT
The integration of the Kingdom of Sefti into the new Commonwealth was a long, difficult process. Sylph and Cerdigonian-elven assessors and magistrates had to be brought in to survey the land and establish a regime for the collection of taxes. Established Sefti-elven noble families had to receive titles and lands anew from the united Commonwealth Crown, or at the very least have their existing deeds ratified by the overburdened administration. It was an even bigger mess in the city of Thesus, where burghers were clamoring for new offices, recognition of property, compensation for war damages, and all manner of accommodation from the new officials. The only part that seemed to go smoothly, ironically, was military integration. With the Usurper gone, old Sefti officers were not strictly opposed to serving a (half) Sylph king, and some were even pleased to be stationed in Hakin where their Old Sefti ancestors had trained. For their part, Sylph officers took pride in their allowance to set foot and set camp in Pavil as incarnations of the Great Sylph Victory over the elves. Sure, they had to work with wingless colleagues, but they knew they were the real ones in charge. The worst aftershocks of the integration, in fact, would take place in Cerdigon. The institution of formal equality was a bitter pill for Sylph elites to swallow even in theory, and in practice it was a nightmare. Elven serfs dared to exercise their new "rights" as "free peasants," abandoning the land to work for wingless lords to the East! Royal courts of justice were accepting elven testimony, and even hearing cases brought by elves against sylphs! Not to mention that the wingless devils were introducing unfair competition to the markets of Cerdigonian artisans! Crowds in Morgraig that had so recently celebrated victory were now rallying in protest of the King's radical policies. Tax collectors, known contacts of Sefti merchants, and any elves who dared show their faces in the streets were apprehended and executed summarily. The town watch was able to suppress the rioters, but not before they set fire to a section of the famed Cerdigonian Royal Military Academy. The violence was a blow to legitimacy of the young King, and even his trusted General Eurion was beginning to think that the Morgraig burghers had a point. Though he didn't dare turn against his liege and former protegee, he did decide to retire rather than command any more forces set against proud Cerdigonian sylphs. Integration would be a test of King Aeron's skill and resolve. Would he keep following through with the project of a united sylph-elf kingdom, or rather make concessions to his opponents at the expense of his new Sefti subjects? __________ -- All districts in Thesus will generate no tax until Turn 7. -- Sefti-Cerdigonian Commonwealth can now exploit and use Iron Nodes. When recruiting professional units, may choose Elvish (requires Iron, no malus to armor) or Sylph (does not require Iron, malus to armor). -- Military Academy in Morgraig is DAMAGED (effects negated, costs 3 Gold to repair) -- General Eurion Giantslayer RETIRES. Cannot be replaced for 2 turns, and Military Academy must be rebuilt to do so. -- Choose ONE of the following - Follow through with the reforms: We're not about to let some simple-minded reactionaries get in the way of our glorious dream for a United Sefti-Cerdigonian Commonwealth! We'll send in the troops as many times as it takes for them to get the message! Effects: King Aeron gets the trait Ruthless Reformist (+1 Splendor, decreased defense against subterfuge targeting character), all districts in Morgraig generate no tax until Turn 7.
- Make strategic concessions: We are the winged ones -the True Fae- after all, didn't your father teach you that? Sure the elves should have your protection and your justice as liege, but the proud Sylphs could use some extra protection for the sake of our traditions. A few extra tariffs on elven goods here, reauthorizing serfdom there, and keep the best officers for the best people. Effects: King Aeron gets trait Compromiser (improved diplomacy with all NPC characters), Elvish units can only ever be built in Pavil using Pavil barracks space, cannot construct any new buildings in Thesus
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Post by cerdigon on Oct 16, 2014 0:36:20 GMT
Streets of Morgraig
It was ironic Captain Aderyn thought. Once the feared Black Watch or known informally on the streets as the Black Caps had been used to suppress numerous Elven demonstrations against King Cadoc. A reign of terror had seen wingless one's arrested without trial, tossed into dungeons, beaten to bloody pulp, all in the name of the Cerdigonian Codes. The hangings and murder of these serfs had always been swept under the rug. While the guardswoman had always found the violence distasteful, it hadn't stopped her from carrying out her orders to keep the wingless one's crushed under the Cerdigonian bootheel. Now she found herself on the opposite end of the spectrum in protecting them.
'' This is an unlawful demonstration. '' The Captain said, her voice nearly drowned out by the abuse hurled towards her as she paced her horse back and forth along the line of demonstrators. They had been murdering and lynching any elf that they found and had nearly burned down the Royal Military Academy before being pushed back. The King himself had ordered that these riots were to be suppressed -- and lawbreakers brought to justice with extreme prejudice.
'' You will disperse or face the Kin---- '' A rock cracked against her helmet.
'' DOWN WITH THE HALFBREED! '' A lone voice shouted and was taken up half heartedly by the crowd as the guardsman marched closer. A few of the cowards were already breaking away to run, while others (no doubt fueled by drink and hatred) stood their ground. King Aeron the Halfbreed, the graffiti was springing up within the city as fast as the town watch could take it down. As another stone was thrown, this one larger, she raised one mailed fist and directed it towards the rioters. With a roar, the guardsman charged the mob. Cudgels broke jaws and iron shod boots cracked ribs. The street fighting was intense as more than one rioter found his brains scattered across the cobblestone streets. The bulk of the rioters were arrested as more guardsman emerged from side streets and alleyways, the Captain's carefully planned encirclement going exactly as she had foreseen.
'' Captain. '' Sergeant Cariad said, making a small motion towards her face as she dismounted and he dutifully held her horse. The rock had cut her cheek and blood was streaming down her face.
'' It won't be the last of it.. '' Aderyn murmured in reply, her fingertip soaked in crimson as she watched the street brawl unfold. Within minutes the will of the drunken rioters broke and many attempted to escape. Some would slip through the cracks but the bulk would be spending the night in dark and cramped dungeon cells.
'' Aye.. I don't know about all this bloody elf business madam captain, seems foolish to me. A lot of damned trouble for nothing. What are these bastards going to do with their new rights? Hah, most of these scum can't even read. '' Cariad grumbled only to suffer a swift rebuke in the form of a fist curled around his mail shirt as she pulled him within inches of her grizzled old face. She had gone blind in one eye, leaving it a milky white color... but the single green hue seemed to drill down into the depths of his very soul.
'' Sergeant, you will keep your opinions to yourself and do your duty. If the King wants this rabble hanged, then we will hang them. We do not make the law, we merely enforce it. You had best remember that. '' She said, shoving him backwards.
'' Yes ma'am! '' Cariad said quickly, bringing his fist to his heart in salute. The Captain was already marching back into the melee however, barking orders as stretcher bearers began carrying the wounded away and others were forced into wagons under heavy guard. This was just the beginning of a very long night for her.
SUMMARY:
--- King Aeron orders demonstrators to be put down with force by the town watch.
-- GAIN Ruthless Reformist trait (+1 Splendor, decreased defense against subterfuge targeting character)
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Post by Vaklu on Oct 19, 2014 15:13:15 GMT
A single dwarf came to the court of King Aeron. His cloths were of good make but worn and he wore no finery. As he entered the kings presance he gave a deep bow. "I am the mayor of Getrim great king. I have come on befalf of my people to ask that you protect us from the Warlord Ashies Mal'Fahar. He takes our iron and our young men for his army. we live of what pittance he provides us. I beg you for protection and admitance into your kingdom." The dwarf's second bow nearly had his head touching the floor.
The Iron Mine in the former sultanate asks for the protection of King Aeron.
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Post by cerdigon on Oct 20, 2014 20:12:53 GMT
Getrim.
King Aeron knew that he would have difficulty finding it on a map. However, this little mining town was about to become important in the Commonwealth's ambitions. Aeron had never been content for the Ikegami to have such a bounty of resources and not without a fight. Fingers gripped over the arms of his throne as Aeron leaned close to inspect the dwarf. As a fae, he was brought up to have little love for the longbeards. However, the Commonwealth was brought up to be inclusive. Inclusive to the wingless one's whom had for so long suffered under the Cerdigonian boot heel, surely room could be made for the stunted ones. Especially one that had the rich iron ore that King Aeron craved. If the Dwarves sought his protection from the machinations of warlords and Ikegami wretches, then he would gladly give it.
'' Noble mayor... '' The King spoke softly but great power lingered in those words as his courtiers leaned close to hear.
'' I am moved by the plight of your people. I will not stand by and allow fellow servants of Aed be murdered and slaughtered by the likes of the heathen Mal'Fahar. Getrim will have the Commonwealth's protection. '' The King's court erupted into applause from his sycophants but this had been something that the King had been waiting for. His armies we're already being ready to mobilize and Commonwealth troops were already operating within the Sultanate. With the cry to take up arms coming from the Vaekirate, it would not be long before the King was leading an army into the Sultanate.
SUMMARY:
-- Getrim receives the Commonwealth's protection.
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Post by Vaklu on Oct 27, 2014 5:46:40 GMT
The day that Aeron's new army marched towards the city of Mogh Bhelnom a column of cavalry broke away south. The commander of the Broken Lances had been annoyed at the defeat on the plains. Once he'd been informed about the plan to besiege the city he told the king simply. "The Broken Lances are at peace with city walls, I bid you farewell and wish you luck." He had no interest in having his men used as glorified infantry.
The Broken Lances leave.
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Post by aspenivan on Nov 3, 2014 7:13:44 GMT
The circle of apothecaries looked grimly at their patient, sleeping fitfully in a cold sweat in the bed of his royal chamber. The old sylphs and elves argued amongst themselves in hushed tones, not wanting to wake the suffering King. After minutes upon minutes of heated discussion, a consensus was finally reached.
"The gangrene cannot be cured. It has settled in to deep, plain and simple. The wing and the arm will both have to go...Aed protect our King."
_____
Four days later, King Aeron finally left the palace. The fever was gone, and it was a blessing to be able to see and think clearly again. But rage and turmoil still filled his belly: He had lost an entire arm and an entire wing. No longer would he ride his steed freely as he once had, nor would he ever soar in the skies among his sylph kin. But what made it truly terrible was that he could still feel both parts of his body. Every morning he jolted when the blankets would not lift evenly, and during every afternoon stroll he caught himself fluttering a single sad wing to reach for a high-hanging fruit in the royal groves or hop from platform to platform to pass over troublesome stairs.
"Look at me...they used to call me half-blood, now they will call me half-man," he bemoaned to one of his trusted bodyguards, Captain Gwynedd, in a moment of grief.
"Now now..." the old captain tried to say comfortingly. His lips curved into a hopeful smile as he thought of a way to move the conversation in a more jovial direction. "I hope you know, your Highness, you look really do look all right!"
Whatever respect the veteran guard commander had, he would now have to pray to Aed that his liege would be merciful.
__________
-- King Aeron Sefti gains two traits: (1) Flightless, (2) One-armed. (Effects listed in dossier)
-- Must decide fate of minor character Captain Gwynedd.
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Post by cerdigon on Nov 6, 2014 21:12:11 GMT
Pain.
Every morning he woke to it, every morning it was a grim reminder of what he had lost.
Yet it felt as if his arm was still there, ready to wield his shield. It felt as if his wing could still take him to the sky, yet it was gone. The King had become increasingly isolated since his injury, keeping to the Royal Palace in Morgraig. He had ordered stairs to be built, and rather than flying from platform to platform, the Sylph nobleman were forced to mount the stairs alongside their wingless cousins for morning petitions. The gardens were the King's one solitude and he had retreated to him, only his most trusted compatriots allowed to follow him into his domain.
Captain Gwynedd's remark was greeted with the first laugh that Aeron had given since his injury. The absurdity of the comment had him laughing until teats trickled down his cheeks. The bodyguards whom had moments before had begun to reach for swords as they eyed their Captain nervously now relaxed and joined in.
'' Clearly you are going blind in your old age Gwynedd. '' Aeron murmured.
'' Now bring me my maps. '' While normally the King would've clapped his hands, instead he rapped his ring finger on the wood of the table as he sat down. The only thing that seemed to bring the young King comfort it seemed was his future ambitions for the Commonwealth's territorial expansion and it had hardly died with the grievous wounds that he had suffered. Since his ascension, the Kingdom had more than doubled in size. The Commonwealth was the greatest power in the North, rivaled only by the upstart Ikagami.
'' Despite our losses, we accomplished the bulk of our objectives, Your Grace. '' General DeForn reported, he was joined by General Modron Halfwing. Both Elf and Sylph were his top battlefield commanders and each had distinguished himself in the campaign.
'' The Ikagami have been denied the iron rights and seem for the moment to have no appetite for a campaign against us to liberate their possessions. '' Modrom said, drawing his finger across the breadth of the Commonwealth army.
'' The Jotun meanwhile are bloodying themselves in the Wasteland's. '' The General continued. '' For the moment, we are facing no credible threats at the least for the next few seasons. The Ikagami will seek to fortify their new holdings and the Jotun know better than to raid us. ''
'' Then the time is right to continue our Northern Expansion. '' King Aeron said finally, his covetous eyes drawn towards the northern tip of his lands.
'' Naught but barbarians exist in the North, Your Grace. Nevertheless....the armies need time to rest, re-equip, and retrain before any new campaigns are launched. '' Sevilion was quick to say, like Modron, he was leery of the Commonwealth overextending itself.
The King tapped his fingertips on the tabletop, his features sullen and creased into a frown. '' If you must take until the new year to re-train and re-equip then do so...I will need regular progress reports and I would see plans for the new port in Thesus.. Leave me. '' The King said finally, the Generals bowing before they retreated. Even the bodyguards maintaining a respectful distance (but still keeping the King within their sights). King Aeron Sefti was left alone with his thoughts... it wouldn't be until well into the evening after many candles had been burned that he would retreat to his chambers.
SUMMARY:
-- King Aeron spares Captain Gwynedd.and prepares for the new year.
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Post by aspenivan on Nov 24, 2014 10:26:27 GMT
King Aeron sat in his palace pondering, as he had for so many days, weeks...was it months now? However long it had been, it wasn't time wasted. The others might think him broken or weak or a hermit, but Aeron knew there was a method and a meaning to what some called madness. The battle, the injury, the pain...for all the King had lost, those events had given him something he couldn't have imagined before: Time to stop and think. After so much reflection, Aeron was beginning to realize something. A vision was crystallizing in his mind's eye: Two paths diverging in the forest, each with its own dangers and opportunities. One of Discernment, the way of a deliberate King whose every decision and decree was infused with well-considered wisdom. The other of Action, the way of a King whose ever-advancing lead would inspire a nation to greatness...or an unexpected fall. He had no wings to fly above and survey both routes: He could no longer hold down the tension between schemer and manic fighter like his father had. Now, finally, it was time to decide. __________ -- King Aeron's time in relative isolation has give him time to reflect. Monarch gains 1 additional Retinue type of choice. -- Choose one of the following - Discernment: King Aeron Sefti gains trait Enlightened Despot
- Action: King Aeron Sefti gains trait Decisive
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Post by cerdigon on Nov 27, 2014 12:48:32 GMT
Darkness.
Was it morning? He could no longer tell any longer, hours, days, and weeks had bled together. Entering the third year of his reign, the Commonwealth had never been stronger. It had become a behemoth, ever expanding, while at the same time its coffers were becoming filled due to its extensive trade. Yet still its King was unsatisfied and even worse, his people had begun to call him Aeron the Ghost. With a grunt, he hurled himself out of his pondering. His hand reaching for the curtains which he threw open, bathing him in sunlight. Something needed to change, there would be no cowering anymore here in the dark. With the Jotun and Ikegami perched on his doorstep, the King could not afford to project weakness.
'' GWYNEDD! GWYNEDD! '' The cries were so furious that the bodyguard had kicked the door to the King's room open with his sword drawn, a half dozen bodyguards barreling in behind them as they hunted for the assassin that was threatening their lord.
They found no one brandishing a knife however, just the King struggling into his surcoat.
'' Put that away you fool. '' Aeron said, gritting his teeth as he fumbled with his buttons. The Captain reached out to help his master only to receive a gaze that burned like coals. '' Fetch my squire. I want my horse and armor readied. '' The King's chamber began a flurry of activity, as pages scrambled to and fro.
'' Where are we going? You are not well my liege, you must rest. '' Gwynedd pleaded.
'' I have rested enough. We are going to the tourney. Summon the quartermaster, the knights, we will leave by this afternoon and I will hear no argument. '' Knowing that he was in a losing battle, the bodyguard slapped his fist to his breast in salute and scampered find Lord Carvin and make the needed arrangements.
SUMMARY:
-- Aeron gains trait: Decisive
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Post by cerdigon on Jan 8, 2015 0:44:08 GMT
The crunch of thousands of boots kicked up a dust trail that stretched for over a mile. The cries of horses, curses of Elf, Sylph, and Dwarf alike melded into a cacophony of noise that could only be identified as one thing: an army on the march. It had been over a year since Aeron Sefti had lead an army into the field, and they were treading over familiar bloodsoaked ground. Yet the King had not come to invade. He was here by invitation; his destination wasn’t the nearby Ikagami villages or forts that dangled like fruit waiting to be plucked on his map. Instead, their path would take them towards the front where thousands upon thousands of Orc’s were being vomited forth from the waste.
While King Aeron would’ve preferred to see the Ikagami weakened and bloodied, he could not abandon the Firetooth. Not after investing so much time, effort and gold in building up bonds of friendship that had already been scarred from past conflicts.
‘’ A pity. ‘’ King Aeron remarked looking over the pristine fields of green as serpentine columns of cavalry moved out across the former sultanate.
‘’ Sire? ‘’ General Silveon queried, the old soldier raising a grey eyebrow at his liege lord.
‘’ This could’ve been ours, enough gold to keep our coffers healthy, enough gunpowder to blow any enemy ship to twigs. Instead we’re marching to save the very people we may one day fight. ‘’ The King said a tad petulantly.
‘’ The Ikagami know better than to challenge the might of the Commonwealth. ‘’ The General assured his liege lord, always wary of Aeron’s appetite for foreign conquest. ‘’ Nor would it go well with the Vizier if we stepped on the throat of an already wounded animal…one that is fighting in the defense of the Empire. ‘’
‘’ You have a point. ‘’ The King said with a small nod in the soldiers direction, sadness creeping into his features.
‘’ But think of the glory to be had West my lord! ‘’ General Silveon reminded him. Instantly, Aeron brightened at the prospect.
‘’ Yes, I’ll send Jodsar’s head to the Vizier with the next seasons tribute. ‘’ Aeron said, his boyish smile returning before he kicked his spurs to the flanks of his horse, urging it onwards towards the front of the columns. He rode past cursing dwarven mule drivers struggling with their wagons, past elven heavy infantry that were slogging along on the dusty rode, and further even still past knights with their burnished plate and flapping pennants. His bodyguards cursed as they struggled to keep up, but Aeron’s eyes were fixed firmly to the West and the glory that he might find there.
SUMMARY:
The Seftian-Navaren Northern Army crosses the border into Ikagami lands and begins a march towards the besieged Imperial Fort.
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Post by cerdigon on Jan 26, 2015 16:36:14 GMT
'' Wait your turn wretch! '' The soldier snarled shoving the peasent with the haft of his halberd backwards. The Sylph snarled and lunged towards the guardsman, before he dissapeard under a mountain of armored boots and cudgels as the City Watch moved forward to quell the disturbance within the breadline. General Eurion Giantsbane watched the disturbance with an air of disdain. He had been retired now for nearly four long years after decades of service to King Cadoc. Eurion rapped his cane on the top of his carriage, signaling his driver to move on. It seemed as if the city of Morgraig was smaller now than it had ever been. King Aeron had taken his battle hardened army of nearly ten thousand towards the Frontier. Amongst them had been Eurion's own grandsons, respledent in their bronze armor as they accompanied their King under a wave of colorful array of banners and shining mail.
It had been weeks since the King had departed and it seemed since he had left only unfavorable news came to the Royal Capital. The Wastelander Orc's had won a bloody battle on the Ryn river that had bloated its banks with thousands upon thousands of corpses. The Elonese army had been shattered and the Firetooth had retreated to their capital of Thundercrown. The Commonwealth in the North was experiencing its own domestic disturbances with the King's absence. The most pressing thing on Eurion's mind was the coming food shortages. He had heard rumors that the graneries only had enough to last the season. The careful rationing was making tempers short, although none of the smallfolk at the moment were starving. The Royal Palace was a respledent building, dominating the center of the city. A symbol of the enduring monarchy that had just shakily survived a succession crisis. The old General turned up his nose at the elf guardsman whom crashed their halberds together once Eurion reached the gates. His driver held out his invitation and after some inspection, the iron gates rattled open, admitting the General whom had once dominated these very halls.
General Modron Halfwing regarded his old friend with a snicker as the old soldier limped his way towards his office. '' Ah, the hermit does indeed live! The rumors are true! '' Eurion held his cane up as if it were a sword and he were ready to strike Modron down. Instead, the old General gave a grunt and took a seat. '' A pleasure to see you once again...is it Governor General Modron now? '' Eurion inquired with a raised grey brow.
'' It is to these bureacrauts. '' Modron said with a sniff of derision, being left behind from the grand campaign to the West had been a blow to Modron's pride. But he was more than aware that the King was trusting him with a major responsibility, ensuring the stability of the Commonwealth in his absence. His resources to accomplish his task were slim.
'' I saw the breadlines outside.. '' Eurion murmered, now reclining back in the old chair he remembered so well. '' Ah yes, the peasents. The wretch's should be happy I have not seized their village stocks. No one is starving... but it is true there is hardly a surplus of food at the moment. The City Watch has assured me they have it under control. ''
'' And if they do not? '' Eurion countered. '' Then I have a regiment of crack troops to unleash to break a few skulls that King Aeron was gracious enough to leave garrisoned within the capital. '' Modron said with a wry smile. '' I have written to King Pedro requesting several regiments to ensure stability. Admiral Iago is maintaining order in Thesus alongside the Royal Governor with his marines and we have also imported food stocks from the South to make up for any shortfalls for the next season. We will ride out this harvest or so the bureacrauts tell me. Or King Aeron may have my head on a spike when he returns home. ''
'' Indeed, I do not envy your task old friend. '' Of course, Eurion was well aware that Modron had thousands upon thousands he could call upon if the need arose. The problem from calling up Royal Levees however was that it proved disruptive to the overall economy and the General had no wish to rock the boat so to speak. Eurion's gaze traveled towards the map on the wall.
'' How bad is it to the West? ''
'' Let's just say that I am happy that the Ikagami border us. The Horde will have to chew through them first in order to get to us...but they seem more intent on killing other Orc's. I pray for the King's safe return... if the travelers from the West are to be believed then tens of thousands of the monsters will be swarming out of the Wastes... ''
''' As do I.. '' Eurion said with a sage nod, thinking of his grandsons, raising his goblet of wine to the portrait of both King Cadoc and King Aeron that lined the wall.
'' To the King! '' Both men intoned, drinking deepy before tossing their glasses into the roaring fire.
SUMMARY:
-- A look at the homefront since King Aeron's departure.
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Post by aspenivan on Mar 22, 2015 3:18:09 GMT
Special Privy Council, Palace of Hakim
Most of King Aeron's meetings were with marshals and generals and noble lords, plotting the defense and expansion of the young Commonwealth. But today, the room was filled with old scholars and sages in all manner of attire, from the elegant robes of esteemed philosophers to the rags of humble forest mystics. The most important person at the table, besides King Aeron himself of course, struck a balance between the two extremes with black robes typical of a Survaekom magister. But this middle-aged woman shared little else with the Southerners - rumor had it she even worshiped the old gods of Cerdigon. Of course, such talk was idle suspicion at best. "Your highness," she offered, grey-brown hair swinging gently and wings stretching ever-so-slightly as she bowed her head before her king. "Morwenna Gloyne, at your service." She gave a bit of a wry smile - such formalities amused her - but she maintained a fully-serious tone. "After months of research, I've come across a tale that might interest you. An elfish story not a few tomes keep referring to, of times when we still roamed the Fae Lands. Of a time when the elf-folk, still winged and pure like ourselves, suffered a hundred years of war and fire, and in the midst a wise apothecary built a very special cabin in the Great Forest. She treated the wounded from all sides, and her selfless devotion attracted so many helpers that soon an entire Order of apothecaries and surgeons worked under her. But no matter how hard she and her countless staff would toil, ten wounded died for every one they could save. Such is war, but she believed it could be otherwise. So she renounced sleep, staying awake by the power of herbs and prayer. And she collected works and observations into a Great Tome, with everything to be known of the body and humours and circulation. But even this was not enough..." By now, a few of the other attendees were clearly growing frustrated. An elf in the wild garb of a countryside preacher stood from his seat. " Enough with old tales and old books from heathen times! You're going to talk our ears off with garble! What's the point you're trying to make, woman?!" Murmurs, some approving and some dissenting, met the rural sage's interjection, but no one truly spoke out. They awaited the Lady Gloyne. Morwenna's face darkened and her lips stretched into a small frown. "With a bit of patience and discernment, you'd see the point is right on its way, man. For when the Grandmistress of the Order I spoke of saw that no knowledge apothecaries could provide would fulfill their noble ambition, they turned to another source: the Alchemical Magisters." Concerned grumbles and a few scoffs emanated from the circle. Alchemists? "Yes, Alchemistry," she repeated as if she could read her peers' minds. "The great but long-forgotten Science. And when they added this knowledge to their Great Tome, everything was possible. Restoring sight and hearing, stopping blood-leaks, and replacing every sort of member of the body...such as arms and legs and even wings." Now, she was looking straight into her liege's eyes. "Their books may be lost, but the Deep Forest folk speak of old 'relics' - hands and feet and eyes made of glass and stone and iron. Dangerous for a pure sylph to don, but perhaps not for a Sylph-Elf. I would petition that your highness, for the sake of our civilization and his very self, look into the matter, or provide me and my students the means and authority to do so. For -" " Outrageous!" shouted the preacher who had interjected before. "Heathen keepsakes belong in one of two places: Melted down in the foundry for new use or buried so deep they will never be uncovered! This is heresy, nay, even unauthorized magic!" "I must disagree," stated another scholar, a short elf in fine robes with gold and silver trimmings. "It is Alchemical Science, not magic. The distinction is obvious to anyone of true learning." With that, the entire room exploded into a cacophony of arguments and insults. Some said the notion such an expedition should be dropped, and a few even proposed that Aeron send a legion to wipe out these heathen Deep Forest folk and destroy their so-called relics. Others argued that these great achievements of the Old Fae must absolutely be recovered, and that only ignorant fanatics would deny the fantastic possibilities opened by rationality - Aed's greatest gift to the world. And still others, less concerned with the ideological debate, argued that the King's health trumped any other consideration, since he was Aed's temporal servant-ruler in the Commonwealth. Ultimately, it would be up to the King himself to decide. __________ Choose one of the following
- Venture into the Deep Forest! This is the opportunity of a lifetime, for the King's own good and the good of the realm. Aeron the Uniter must stop at nothing to reveal the greatness of Fae Civilization. Commit King Aeron Sefti (Monarch) and any other desired retinues to track down the "old relics" for Turn 19-20.
- Provide for an Expedition. These artifacts are worth looking into, but we must acknowledge that their propriety under Aedak is ambiguous. Let this Morwenna Gloyne benefit from the King's coffers, but otherwise Aeron should keep his distance from the whole affair until we have a better idea what we are dealing with. Pay 10 Gold.
- Drop it. No. No no no. If it's in the Deep Forest and it sounds like it could be heretical, don't even touch it with a ten-foot pole. No action.
- Subjugate the Forest Folk: Burn their shrines and break their artifacts into little pieces! They are clearly heathens who must be shown the Light of Aed by force. PM moderator with forces to be committed to the attack.
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