TEATRC tribute & universe expansion

Wake up?

Documents from Swadian historian Jeffrey Hershey

I've been doing research on a recent campaign by the king and I came across this. The second letter was found by a search party that went looking for the lords dispatched to attack the Lion Throne armies and I managed to track down the woman mentioned, Sarah. She gave me a stack of letters, but these are the only ones I have had the time to study. I'll be returning them to the girl when I'm finished, but for now here they are.

1st Letter

Dear Sarah,

I don't know when I'll be home, but I hope it's soon. We've been marching for days, and will be marching many more according to my commander. The Lion Throne is advancing on our lands steadily and will soon reach the capital. If they do I want you to take the kids and leave for the North. I have friends up there who will take you in and eventually get you on a boat to somewhere far away. It's been a long day, and I can't write anymore, but I love you and I miss you.

2nd Letter

Dear Sarah,

The march has continued, but we're stopping more and more. There have been rumors going around that the commander is sick and may not live very long. If that happens then we may head back, if not then we continue on our course to attack the armies of the Lion Throne. I don't know if you've sent any letters, as I haven't received any, but I still love you.

I hear gunshots outside and I fear the enemy is attacking, I must go. I can't wait to see you again. I lo

The letter is cut off abruptly and there are blood stains on it. The soldier writing was found dead with seven bullets inside him. I believe the army was caught by surprise. If so, then the Lion Throne must have sent small teams in as their army is far too large to sneak up on the Swadian camp. More research may be done into this attack on the Swadian army, but not now, as the town is under siege. My research shall hopefully begin again.

Also, my brother and his "Peasants at War" have arrived to help the city, I should talk with him...

Jeffrey Hershey

The following is a report to his Istvan Aleksei, Prince-Sovereign of the Grand Duchy of the house of Maksymillian, Duke-Sovereign of Tarnowd, Duke-Sovereign of Lubnie, Duke-Sovereign of Lwyw, Duke-Sovereign of Birute, Lord-Sovereign of Nirdam, Steward of the Nirdamese Nation and Khan of the Karaite.

From his most humble servant, Hetman-Husaria János Kurozwecki

Below is a compiled history of the Nirdamese people, which I have painstakingly brought together through findings of documents and books scattered throughout the northern and central regions of Calradia detailing the long history of the Nirdamese.

I also got the chance to be able to visit the forest regions of the Vaegirs, due to my knowledge of the Vaegir language; I was able to travel freely without question. With my travels, I was able to learn much about the ruins of the many “communities” that littered the deepest regions of the forest.

Nirdam

In the early years of the old Calradian Empire, there have been many reports of “forest men” in the region of what is now the infamous mount Hydekta, dividing the lush green of Ivangorod from the cold weather of Volga. The forest men were described with skin being the same colour as the trees, and with their ability to literally blend with the forests. Whenever adventurers would wish to know more of the forest men, he would find himself lost on the regions of the forest, with no sign of life anywhere.

When the great empire of Ellis took over the lands of the Vaegirs, the existence of the Nirdamese was still no more than legend. The number of expeditions into the forests was still the same, and as always they drew no result. The rarity of philosophical minds in the Ellis empire which ventured into the forests were able to know plenty about the animal and plant life that live in the deepest parts of the forest, but as always they were unable to find out more about the elusive forest men.

However, in an unknown year during the Ellis Empire a man of Vaegir origin who grew up in Ellis itself, going by the name of Arsenius (Arsenyos in the Vaegir language) Marius. Arsenius’ name was extended to honour his caretaker, an academic named Marius who was gaining great favour within the universities of Ellis. When the Ellisian Senate investigated his fame, he was conceived as incorruptible to the politics of Ellis. To this extent, Marius was killed by the Senate, and Arsenius fled Ellis for his Vaegir Motherland.

When he reached the foot of mount Hydekta, he was starving and malnourished after a month of running from the Senate, who was seeking the adopted son of Marius, believing him to be a threat to the politics of Ellis. Arsenius ran into the deepest parts of the forest, eventually passing out on the spot. It is believed that he was found merely a few minutes after he collapsed, with most scholars agreeing that the Nirdamese had been watching him ever since he ventured into the forest.

For the next week, he was nurtured back to health by a community of the forest people. After being made sure he was properly healthy, the community wished to let him leave the forest with a word to never return, on pain of extreme justice by the community. A young woman, around the age of Arsenius, by the name of Sarah, pleaded for him to stay, saying that his release would endanger the isolation of the community. So, Arsenius was forced to stay in the community. Arsenius saw this as liberation, for he was grown up with a thirst for knowledge given to him by Marius. It also acted as a refuge from the Senate, who was still searching for him.

During the next five years, he was integrated into the Nirdamese community, where he gained the trust of the local Patriarch, the head of the community. He had even adapted to calling each Nirdam of his generation “brother” and “sister.” With those of older generations “father,” ”mother,” ”grandfather,” and “grandmother.” He, however, refused to be given a Nirdamese name, saying that he must never forget his lineage. He had, however, married Sarah and given her the name of May, which meant great in a dialect of an old language he had learned of during his time in Ellis. Arsenius Marius and Sarah May were married to the cheers of the Nirdamese community, having had Arsenius become a full member of the community.

This was the core of the Nirdamese Nation, as their community would gain fame and infamy due to the marriage of a Nirdam woman to a Vaegir man endangered the isolation of the Nirdamese communities, which may have lasted for more than a thousand years, according to their religious belief. The marriage of Arsenius and Sarah May might have caused the first large-scale war of the Nirdamese. The community, however, had fallen to love Arsenius as much as they loved Sarah May, and therefore refused to kill him on the grounds of morality on their religion. For a year a secret war was waged between more than thirty communities of Nirdamese, of those, the community of Arsenius stood alone. They, however, were able to reap the rewards of victory due to the great mind of Arsenius. Arsenius refused to draw a sword or shoot a bow, but he had successfully leaded the community to victory, gaining control of the other communities.

The conquest however, came at a heavy price. The great loss of Nirdamese life would permanently affect the communities of the Nirdamese, for after this the surviving communities, and those unaffected by the secret war, would band together to form larger communities for their own protection. Besides this, the already small population of Nirdamese, compared to the rest of Calradia, is very low.

Arsenius radicalized this secret conquest with a daring move. He had called all the patriarchs of the communities he conquered and he declared the establishment of a Nirdam Nation. The true leaders of the nation would be the patriarchs, with the monarchy of Arsenius and Sarah May being used as ceremonial leaders for the society of the new Nation. The new Nirdamese Nation was still largely unheard of, and for the whole of Calradia to properly recognize this nation, they must finally reveal themselves to the world.

This plan, however, was never put into action. King Arsenius and Queen Sarah May had agreed with the patriarchs that, for the Nirdamese Nation to live, they must remain secret, until such a time that the Nirdamese are able to fight the local Vaegirs for lands. Instead, Arsenius sent messengers to the farthest reaches of Calradia to the hundreds of communities of Nirdamese living in the deepest regions of the forests. Those who did not unite with the Nirdamese Nation, were left to their own independence, but would still have a chance to join the Nirdamese Nation whenever they wish.

This new nation was lead by the Patriarchal Council, consisting of more than a hundred patriarchs of the local communities after the expansion of the Nation. Their role was both administrative and religious; they live by the codes of their holy book and of their belief in their Great Father which generally justifies every action they make through the three virtues of loyalty, honour, and morality. They also have a great sense of justice, with every inaction done to the Nirdamese subject to the codes of their holy book, and subject to the justice system of the Nirdamese, which generally concludes death to anyone.

King Arsenius was not the only object of legends, however. In the current date, very few Nirdamese remember their first king to be a Vaegir, but they will always know of the beautiful Queen Sarah May. Sarah May had also given radical ideas for the Nirdamese Nation. She had created an image for the Nirdamese, in their community there was a most brilliantly made statue of her, standing side-by-side with Arsenius. When I tried to find the statue, I found the remains of a statue by the deepest part of the forest, her hands were in a position that made her look like she was holding onto someone, but her hands were empty, and the remnants of a statue beside her were visible.

But even then, after about a thousand years, the statue looked very beautiful. There was little that nature could do to the forest, as it was in the deepest forest no rain fell on the area the statue stood. No swift wind reached the statue and judging from the enormous trees that stood as sentinels around the statue, no snow would have pierced the area. A local Nirdamese guide I had with me said that the area of the statue is one of the Nirdam’s most sacred locations. He informs me that, had a Patriarch survived the initial purge, a holy temple would have been built around this location to protect the statue. I saw no reason for a temple, as it does not seem that anyone else has been able to visit the area, although he says that some Nirdamese who dare venture this far into Vaegir territory attempt a pilgrimage to this location to thank the Great Father for their survival.

The Nirdamese Nation would last for centuries in secret within the forests. In the histories of Calradia, I could find tale of only one Nirdam to have ventured out to the point that he would offer his services as a mercenary. By the end of the thirteenth century, all of Calradia was at war, except for the Nirdamese Nation which remained unknown to the world. In a community in the Ehlerdah forests, a Nirdamese brother became curious of the world around him. Many times the community had to defend its secrecy by killing parties of bandits who discovered the community to the last man. In an act of great defiance, the Nirdamese Brother left the community for nearby Swadia. The Great Father had saved him, for he was hired as a mercenary by a mercenary captain. He was able to pass off questions about who he is by claiming nobility, but refusing to tell more of it. Nobody in the mercenary party believed him, but they did not shun him away because of his excellent skills in combat.

The last record of him is of the journey of the mercenary company through Ehlerdah forest. His behaviour in the forest was that of a prodigal son who does not want to look upon his home. When asked of his behaviour, the Brother would tell the company many stories about the forests of Ehlerdah instead of answering the question. He could not help himself, for even if he ran away from his community, he was still a Nirdamese. And to protect a Nirdamese Brother with your life merits joining the Great Father in the eternal paradise. It is unknown what happened to the Brother after their journey through Ehlerdah. It is known that they were able to go through without being attacked by bandits, however it is unknown what happened next.

The Nirdamese Nation would flourish in secret within their forests. By the end of the twelfth century growing tales of the forest men were more abundant in the Vaegir and Swadian regions. The Vaegirs would be the first to have confirmed evidence of the forest men when the Nirdam Nation finally decided to reveal their people to the world. When the Nords invaded northern Calradia, Wercheg was besieged and swiftly taken by the Nords. The Vaegir armies quickly mobilised for war against the Nords.

The Patriarchal Council saw this as an opportunity to create a proper nation. So, through the forests, they gathered the full strength of the hundreds of communities within the forests. Garnering an army into the thousands, the Nirdamese marched from Vyincourd castle to what is now the city of Zenislev. The garrison at Zenislev was small compared to the other cities, for the Grand Duchy of Zenislev had kept its independence from the Vaegir Kingdom, however still aided the Vaegir armies in their war against the Nordic invasion, as the Grand Duchy of Zenislev is still a Grand Duchy of the Vaegirs.

The Nirdamese army, led by Queen Hannah, went to the walls of Zenislev, and demanded their surrender. Seeing the horde of the forest men, particularly unknown to the rest of the world until now, the captain of the garrison of Zenislev accepted the surrender. Queen Hannah ordered the evacuation of all the Vaegir subjects who do not wish to be ruled by the Nirdamese. Those who wished to stay were welcome to do so, but must be subject to the laws of the Nirdam Nation. Surprisingly, many of the citizens of the old Grand Duchy of Zenislev wished to stay and be ruled by the forest people. Queen Hannah quickly sent messengers to all the corners of Calradia, to the deepest forest communities of the Nirdamese to come out of hiding, and to come to Zenislev. In the libraries of Zenislev, I was able to obtain a very old copy of the letter sent out by Queen Hannah.


Glory to the Great Father, Lord of all nations!

To the Patriarchs of the world, rejoice! The Great Father has gifted our enduring Nation with a great capital for our own! It is the time, dear Patriarchs, that we reveal our existence to the world! From the time of Queen Sarah May, our Nation has endured through many years, and now we reap the rewards! Come then, dear Patriarchs, it is time that we abandon our forest communities, and entered the realm of Calradia as a powerful Nation! Come then, dear Patriarchs, for I am in need of your great services. Our new Vaegir peoples must meet the true leaders of their new Nation. It is time that we finish that which was planned by my ancestors, by our beloved Queen Sarah May. The world shall know of our existence, the world shall declare us equal to them! No longer shall we remain unknown, now, we are Nirdamese! And the world shall know of the Nirdam Nation! So come then, dear Patriarchs, commence your Great Migration, and come to the walls of Zenislev, your new people await your arrival!

By the grace of the Great Father,

Queen Hannah

From the letter itself, around that time, the existence of King Arsenius may not even be publicly known. The Nirdam Nation has already gone from a Patriarchal Kingdom to a Patriarchal Queendom. Queen Hannah had no King, and instead adopted a daughter of a member of her community, as many other Queens did before her. This system of adoption started when the son of Arsenius and Sarah May, Antonius (Antonyus in Vaegir), refused the throne, and left the community to wander the forests in what was called the “true isolation” of the Nirdamese. Sarah May was said to have wept for days following Antonius’ departure. Arsenius and Sarah May adopted the newborn daughter of Sarah May’s brother to become the Queen upon the death of Arsenius and Sarah May. They named her Ruth, and Queen Ruth succeeded her mother, fulfilling and continuing the system of adoption.

Following the continuing war with the Nords, and with the Khergits, relations between the Vaegir and Nirdamese reach their greatest. The Vaegirs and the Nirdamese royal families, governments, peoples themselves, would integrate with one another, hold festivities, go to war as allies against the Nords and Khergits. Following this, there were immediate talks of joining the two nations into one, stronger, nation.

Unknown to the noble classes, the regular population is continually in small-level conflicts with the other. More and more, the Nirdamese and Vaegir populations in Volga and Zenislev are deteriorating in lifestyle due to the small urban conflicts that have gone by unnoticed by most of the nobility. The first grand step into the nobles knowing of the conflict is when the Vaegir section of the Merchant’s Guild refused entry to the Nirdamese merchants and waged small urban conflicts, primarily in Volga and Zenislev. Some nobles – Nirdamese and Vaegir alike – brought it to the attention of the Patriarchs and the Vaegir King Yaroglek, both of them dismissed it as no more than the “usual troubles.”

In a year I am yet to determine, King Yaroglek and Queen Hannah were off in the Khergit steppe, besieging Ichamur when a feudal war between Nirdamese and Vaegir lords erupted in Wercheg, which the Vaegir and Nirdamese armies had only recently taken. The Patriarchal Council had determined that five Nirdamese lords and five Vaegir lords are to hold the rights of the nearby lands of Wercheg. This outraged the Nirdamese and Vaegir lords, who wanted control over all of the lands for their own, not planning to share it with a Vaegir or a Nirdamese. And so, the Nirdamese and Vaegir feudal wars ended when King Ragnar of the Nords took advantage of this squabbling and retook Wercheg, much to the dismay of Yaroglek and Hannah. Yaroglek wanted to punish the Vaegir lords himself, but Hannah insisted on the Vaegir lords be put through the Nirdamese codes of justice, in return for her Nirdamese lords be put through the Vaegir justice themselves. The trials ended with five Nirdamese lords hanged for treason and five Vaegir lords stoned to death for actions against the Nation.

Many more small urban and feudal conflicts erupted between the two royalties through the years. Though when the Khergits and the Nords simultaneously attacked, taking Reyvadin and Curaw (today’s Ivangorod and Volga), the differences had a temporary peace, as the Vaegirs were now united with the Nirdamese, their only apparent ally, to fight for the motherland. The Nirdamese Nation, however, merely wanted to reclaim Curaw and the forests around Reyvadin, which were sacred to them as the lands of their Nation.

After the expulsion of the Khergit and Nordic invasions, Yaroglek and Hannah decided to unite their crowns by adopting a Vaegir boy to ascend to the newly formed Dual Monarchy. However, this new Dual Monarchy came at a cost. Due to the unity of the two peoples, the Vaegir  councils were now defunct and the Patriarchal Council returned to the forest communities, the self-proclaimed “true isolationists,” who have sworn no allegiance to the Nirdamese Nation, of which are very few in number.

The Dual Monarchy would have only exactly one generation to have achieved an even proper level of peace. The King-Patriarch Jerome succeeded Yaroglek and Hannah, and his rule mark the beginning and the end of the Golden Age of the Dual Monarchy. However, I am yet to find details more than his proper advancements in engineering and warfare and the great story – which is now becoming a legend – of the armies of the Dual Monarchy at Wercheg around the end of the 13th century.

The Nordic Lord inside Wercheg knew defeat, and so he honourable asked the Nirdamese and Vaegir lords present for an honourable death. With a coordinated rain of arrows from the Nirdamese and with a suicidal charge outside Wercheg. The Nirdamese lord accepted, and the Nords charged out. However, the Vaegir lord refused to give victory to the Nirdamese, and charged his cavalry on the thought that the Nirdamese would stop firing. However, the Nirdamese lord deemed this as dishonourable, and so continued firing as the Nords now fought the Vaegirs in a ferocious melee. In the end, the few remaining Nords stood over the carnage and won their victory in this land and in the next, as the Nirdamese fired down their arrows on the survivors, thus granting them peace in both lives. News of this did not reach the Vaegir lords until far from the death of King-Patriarch Jerome and well into the reign of King-Patriarch Jerome’s granddaughter, Queen-Matriarch Valeria, thus far the only Queen-Matriarch to have ruled.

The rule of the King-Patriarchs after Queen-Matriarch Valeria was described as short and rarely fruitful. It was not until King-Patriarch Leiss that the Dual Monarchy was finally able to gain stability. For the nearly 150 years since the rule of Queen-Matriarch Valeria, the Dual Monarchy was finally able to stabilize itself, and King-Patriarch Leiss was able to rule for more than five years. Following this, he changed his title to King-Emperor to attempt to unite both halves of the Dual Monarchy under a new power independent of the two races.

However, things changed drastically. Now, I delve into modern history, for in 1490, the Laurians invaded from the mainland and quickly took Nibelheim and Tihr from the Swadians and were now marching on Wercheg, currently controlled by the Dual Monarchy. The King-Emperor himself wanted to be present at the siege, and so took all of his Nirdamese and Vaegir armies to defend Wercheg. However, the defences fell easily as the King-Emperor fell in the middle of the battle with an arrow piercing his eye. The Vaegirs, led by Lord Feodor, fled the battle while the Nirdamese were scattered and slaughtered, with a very small number surviving the massacre.

Prince Yarih, legitimate successor to the throne since King-Emperor Leiss had no heir, made quick for Ivangorod to establish himself as King-Emperor, however Lord Feodor beat him to the palace at Ivangorod and established himself as Tsar of all the Vaegirs, establishing the Vaegir Tsardom to replace the now crumbling Dual Monarchy.

Following the creation of the Tsardom, Tsar Feodor Grozny now proceeded to deport all non-Vaegir subjects of the Tsardom. The deportation reached a critical point when riots started in Odoiev, resulting in the deaths of thousands of Nirdamese and other non-Vaegirs.

Now Prince Yarih is in foreign land, awaiting a Vaegir to come to his aid to reclaim the old throne of the Dual Monarchy. However, in the lands of the Grand Duchy there is hope. The most legendary Nirdamese still alive, Ibrahim Hazak, is rallying Nirdamese into the banner of the Grand Duchy, though progress is slow, as many of the Nirdamese have returned to the few remaining forest communities, adopting true isolation rather than resistance.

Along with Ibrahim Hazak, his brother Ishmael Hazak continues to roam all of Calradia in search of the forest communities and seeking knowledge on many things unknown to me. Though, even for a Nirdamese, it is a very hard task, as the Nirdamese have hidden their forest communities specifically for the greatest trackers which the Nirdamese believe are the Nirdamese themselves. So, those who seek for a forest community in the modern times of today are more likely to get killed by bandits rather than find a forest community.

Ezekiel Dizyana, leader of the last successful Nirdamese Resistance inside Vaegir territory faces impossible odds. With the civilians in his care exceeding that of his soldiers more than ten-one, Ezekiel Dizyana has no choice but to establish forest communities around the infamous Mt. Hydekta. With the establishment of these forest communities loyal to Ezekiel Dizyana, he has become more a warlord than a resistance fighter, and support for Ibrahim Hazak grows thin, and the Nirdamese Outcasts remain in the service of the Grand Duchy, which still receives refugees from Ezekiel Dizyana whenever he is able to send them.

Though it is a small chance, there may still be hope for the Nirdamese Nation. Four of the greatest Nirdamese currently living today are now roaming Calradia, looking for support. With the aid of the Grand Duchy, now rising in prominence over the chess board of Calradia, hope may be foreseen in the future of the Nirdamese Nation.


Author's Note: After a very (and I emphasise the word very a LOT) long time of work, my latest work about the Nirdamese history is complete

Very very long story but also very nice...Enjoyed reading

A great history of both the Nirdamese and Calradia. That seriously might be the best history ever written for TEATRC.

Only one small mistake I noticed. By the end of the thirteenth century, all of Calradia was at war, except for the Nirdamese Nation which remained unknown to the world. yet By the end of the twelfth century growing tales of the forest men were more abundant in the Vaegir and Swadian regions. The Vaegirs would be the first to have confirmed evidence of the forest men when the Nirdam Nation finally decided to reveal their people to the world.

A good read. The TEATRC lore expands further thanks to you, and a great addition I might add.
You just gave me an alibi to create and roleplay a nirdam character.

The Nirdamese Nation would last for centuries in secret within the forests. In the histories of Calradia, I could find tale of only one Nirdam to have ventured out to the point that he would offer his services as a mercenary. By the end of the thirteenth century, all of Calradia was at war, except for the Nirdamese Nation which remained unknown to the world. In a community in the Ehlerdah forests, a Nirdamese brother became curious of the world around him. Many times the community had to defend its secrecy by killing parties of bandits who discovered the community to the last man. In an act of great defiance, the Nirdamese Brother left the community for nearby Swadia. The Great Father had saved him, for he was hired as a mercenary by a mercenary captain. He was able to pass off questions about who he is by claiming nobility, but refusing to tell more of it. Nobody in the mercenary party believed him, but they did not shun him away because of his excellent skills in combat.

The last record of him is of the journey of the mercenary company through Ehlerdah forest. His behaviour in the forest was that of a prodigal son who does not want to look upon his home. When asked of his behaviour, the Brother would tell the company many stories about the forests of Ehlerdah instead of answering the question. He could not help himself, for even if he ran away from his community, he was still a Nirdamese. And to protect a Nirdamese Brother with your life merits joining the Great Father in the eternal paradise. It is unknown what happened to the Brother after their journey through Ehlerdah. It is known that they were able to go through without being attacked by bandits, however it is unknown what happened next.

Click to expand...

Is this man you refer to, by chance, the fastest rider in Calradia named NIZAR?

Nope, it's Rolf. I tried to make him look like a Nirdamese more than a regular thug from the forests.

Here goes:


An assembled crowd cheers as a long procession of troops march along the only highway that stretches along the southern gates of Nibelheim towards the queen’s castle. The only highway perhaps in the entire city, newly constructed under the orders of its newest lady, an undertaking which required the destruction of ancient historical buildings that angered its previous denizens. But these denizens have been deported to the nearby towns, and in their stead, colonists from the land of Laurian homeland take their place; all loyal to the queen, or so that’s what she’s made to believe. Amongst the cheering crowd, all made up of laurian settlers as well as natives that have shown loyalty, lurks queen’s guard Alfonso along with his two apprentices. Unlike his fellow guardsmen marching in full plate armor alongside the queen at the street right now, Alfonso and is men wore simple tunics, with a medallion bearing the Laurian Guard insignia tucked inside their clothes being the only mark of their office. Alfonso and the others once served along the battle line defending the queen in during battle, but their unique skills had them elevated to another job: that of being the field agents of the Loehr counter-intelligence network.

Now here he is, negotiating through packed crowds of Nibelheimers, along with two of newly recruited agents. Latest reports from tavern raids indicated a plot to assassinate queen Imelda right this very morning. As far as their investigation has taken them, they know where, but not exactly. When? It was already obvious, during the victory procession right after Imelda’s summer campaign in Vaegir lands. How? They have no idea. Sniping could prove difficult as already a contingent of loyalist arquebusiers have been placed over the rooftops, an ambush from the streets will be impossible as long as the dogmatic queen’s guard is around. So the question still stands: how?

Alfonso and his group as well as other similar men have been placed throughout the crowd to keep a watchful eye. Across the street he saw Gomez and his agents seem to be shuffling amongst the crowd moving in the general direction where the procession is going. Keeping up with the queen, Alfonso first thought, but looking closer, they seem to be in a hurry; pushing other people aside in their haste.
Alfonso nudged his two apprentices; ‘Come on lets go, Gomez seems to have seen something.’

Reyes squeezed past a group of cheering bystanders. He was late, and his master, who he was following right ahead, was angry because of it. He drank too much last night, and was still feeling wobbly. He tapped his coat where his pistols were to reassure himself that the things were still there. While his legs were still shaking his arm was still true, and that’s the only thing he needs to do his job.
‘Hurry!’ shouted his master in the crowd.

They were nearing an intersection to which smaller streets open up to the wide road. The queen was now about to cross the intersection. From one of the small streets opposite to where Reyes and his master is, a commotion was stirring, a runaway cart pulled by two horses was running wildly towards the parade. Pandemonium broke loose, as bystanders tried to get out of the way. At the sound of trouble, the queen’s guard snapped into action. The Guards nearest to her formed a tight circle around her, while the rest formed up between her and the cart. As one the guard presented their halberds outward. Even mad horses would stop in front of a wall of spears. And the cart stopped just before the group of guards.

Reyes’s master gave him a glance which told him to get ready. Reyes, nodded and reached inside his coat for his pistols. Alfonso and his men were tackling people aside, as they rushed towards the intersection. The crowd on his side of the street was more packed as compared to the other side, so he and his men had a difficult time. Gomez on the other hand was closer and was pretty sure that the two people he noticed and was following earlier were involved.

A queen’s guard walked towards the stationary cart, his fellow guards watching in anticipation. There was no driver; he took a peek at the contents. The last thing he could do was open his eyes wide, before three barrels of gunpowder were ignited and exploded. The entire queen’s guard who formed a rank in front of the cart were blasted to their deaths. Some of the queen’s guard who formed a circle around the queen were thrown back, but quickly stood back up unscathed. The queen was fine, but she was controlling her startled steed.

Alfonso made a sigh of relief seeing her queen alive. But throughout the noise of fear and confusion around the crowd, he heard one sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand: ‘Assassins!’

Almost everybody was startled by the explosion, almost. Gomez was quickest to recover, a veteran queens guard as he was. He quickly returned his gaze towards his quarry, just in the nick of time to see the two people he was following, pulling out pistols from their coats. He shouted in alarm: ‘Assassins!’

For Reyes, time seemed to slow down from the moment the explosion went off. He was a professional, but this was his first time to kill in broad daylight, and his first time to be a part of a plot so complex compared to his previous experiences. It seemed ages before he managed to bring his two pistols to bear. He aimed both at his target. Beside him, he could see the two pistols of his master being aimed at Imelda also. But before any of them could fire their pistols, Reyes heard a distinctive shout near him, a sound that he reacts to by instinct: assassin. He quickly turned to the direction of that word. By experience he easily saw his enemies. Three rough looking men, who were pulling out weapons. Two pulled out pistols, while the third one drew his sword.

Quickly he switched targets and aimed his pistols. He heard his master’s pistols fire, but wasn’t minding it now. Now he concentrated on his new threat. As fast as he aimed his pistols he fired both simultaneously. Two of his enemies, those armed with pistols were shot dead in the head, even before they could bring their pistols to bear. Normal time returned, and Reyes’s master said: ‘Let’s go, let’s go!’

Alfonso was stopped in his tracks and was horrified to see Queen Imelda fall from her saddle. With that he sprinted faster towards the other side of the street, knocking back civilians as if they were not there. Once he got to the road, some pikemen tried to stop them, but Alfonso and his men quickly brought out their medallions to show their allegiance. Although it they were things not recognized by the normal rank and file. And they were stopped.
‘Let us through you fools, we are Queens Guard!’ retorted Alfonso.
It was a seconds later, before a veteran allowed them to pass and cross the towards the other side of the street.
The Guards nearest the Queen quickly looked to her state. While the ones nearest the assassins ran after them, swatting aside civilians. Gomez ran after the two assassins, it was a little easier since the two were tackling civilians making a clear path. His two companions, he was sure, was dead.

The two assassins ran inside an alley along the street that connected towards the highway. It was deserted, but Reyes knew that they were being followed. Reyes dared a glance back, and saw one figure running after them. Quickly he pulled out his third pistol. When he aimed back, he saw the man already aiming at him with a pistol.

Gomez was determined to at least capture one of these gunmen. He aimed for the lower part, hoping to hit the legs. Gomez pulled the trigger and...
Nothing, the accursed thing has misfired!

Reyes smiled at his luck, and pulled the trigger to his pistol. It fired. And hit Gomez on the stomach. The man fell to the ground. He continued running. His affair cost him time. His master was already ahead of him. Reyes saw his master turn to another alleyway, he ran after him. But before he could reach the alley, he saw three men of similar garb to the one he shot earlier, chasing after his master. He stopped in fear.

Alfonso and his men decided to run through the alleys instead of following from the main street, thinking that the assassins would probably use these alleys as an escape route. He was right. No sooner have they entered the alley, they have encountered one of the gunmen. He wasn’t fit for too much running compared to his men, so he lagged behind. The gunman ran in the opposite direction and they gave chase. Alfonso pulled out his pistol and fired. He missed. The gunman was startled but never looked back, running as fast as he can. Alfonso’s two companions ran after him. Alfonso on the other hand stopped to catch his breath. To his right side there was another alley, and there he saw the other gunman, standing agape at him.

‘You!’ shouted Alfonso, quickly drawing his sword and pointing it at the assassin.
‘Damn’ said Reyes, and quickly turned the opposite direction. But towards the end of the alley stood three Queens Guard. Reyes cursed at his predicament. He was trapped! The three guards and the lone agent were advancing towards him right now. Reyes quickly looked for a means of escape. He saw a door beside him. He charged the door bashing his body to it. But to no avail, the door seems to be barred, and the only thing Reyes managed to do was give his shoulder a bruise. His heart was pounding even faster now at the prospect of capture and eventually death. He thought of another plan.

Reyes turned towards the lone agent, and without warning, threw one of his hidden blades toward the man. Alfonso noticed it, he tried to dodge to the left, but he was too slow and the throwing knife lodge itself on his right shoulder. But veteran of many battles he was, he hardly cried in pain. With anger, he charged at the assassin.

Reyes quivered in fear at the man’s resilience. He drew his sword, but already knew the outcome, he was no swordsman. Alfonso charged, blade high. Reyes brought his sword up to parry. But instead of Alfonso slashing down, he used his other fist to punch the gunman’s stomach. Alfonso’s charge combined with his powerful physique gave a punishing punch, knocking the assassin to the ground. The three Queens Guard managed to catch up and subdue the man; they hauled the assassin to his feet and held his arms. Alfonso was looking at his prey now, fear evident in his eyes. Alfonso took a deep breath and pulled away the knife that was lodged in his right shoulder. At that moment he heard his captive cry in terror: ‘****!’

Alfonso looked up and saw the gunman’s eyes widen in fear, but not at him. He was looking above and behind Alfonso. Alfonso turned around, and on the rooftop of the building opposite the alley he saw one Laurian arquibusier aiming his gun, its primer lit.
‘Don’t shoot!’ ordered Alfonso. But the Laurian soldier never listened. He fired and shot Reyes dead between the eyes.

‘DAMN IT’ cursed Alfonso. The Laurian Arquibusier already disappeared, and there was no way he could give chase. He’s two colleagues returned, sweating hard.
‘We’ve lost him sir’ said one.

Alfonso has lost all leads. He turned to the dead gunman in the hope of searching for evidence. Three pistols, six throwing knives and a bag of silver was all he could find. Then, he saw something else. He was trained to look for marks of profession, and he found one on gunman’s left shoulder. A tattoo, no, a brand, burned into his shoulder. Alfonso turned to one of his more knowledgeable men.
‘Do you recognize this mark?’
His companion looked carefully.
‘It’s the brand of the 78th Pike!’
‘You mean the Death bringers of Tihr?’
‘Aye sir, the most brutal tercio regiment in the entire Calradian expedition.’

Alfonso was shocked. The 78th pike was loyal to only one man, Duke Pelayo, Laurian Lord of Tihr.

Map of the Highlands, shows the 3 nations which share it and the most important settlements.

Is this for something that you'll be writing about? Stuff about the Highlands could be interesting, although the Nord colonies seem a bit odd. Unless they separated from the main Nordlands.

Toffey said:

Is this for something that you'll be writing about? Stuff about the Highlands could be interesting, although the Nord colonies seem a bit odd. Unless they separated from the main Nordlands.

Click to expand...

Yes, I have started something about the Highlands. The first Nords in the Highlands were under different ruler than Nords in Tihr-Sargoth-Wercheg-axel. It'll be explained in detail later. And I'm not giving up Nords without a fight.

Wait... Isn't the Lowlands supposed to be there between IS lands and the Highlands?

FuryFire said:

Wait... Isn't the Lowlands supposed to be there between IS lands and the Highlands?

Click to expand...

Lowlands are between Gunther-Piedmont and IS.

The King of Zenislev

1410, winter, Zenislev

The man’s rage shook the room. His knife was flaring at his opponent, who was running out of space behind him to dodge the weapon. The crowds were wild with excitement, golden denars in one hand and a piece of parchment on the other which holds their bets for the winner. The other man was finally able to break loose of the gauntlet he was cornered into by the other and was able to get a lucky swipe at the man’s bare chest. The crowd shook with cheers and groans at the sight of the bloody knives swinging madly.

On the upper floors, a man sits quietly and contently, watching the fight and refusing a mug of ale from the barkeep. A small boy rushed toward him, whispering something to his ear and then running off after accepting a gold denar from the man. “Stanislaw,” he says to the man on his right, holding an arquebus and standing beside a bronze drum. The man named Stanislaw bangs on the drum with the end of his arquebus and everything goes quiet. The two men fighting below are quiet and the cheering people look at the man as he stands up from his chair.

“Yuri shall speak!” said Stanislaw in a deep voice, which seemed to control the room.

“Friends,” said Yuri to the gathered crowd, who were completely silent, “sadly, our friend, the Marshall of Zenislev, Jonathan Weiss, has heard wind of our grand battle here. My informant tells me that he shall be on his way, and so we must leave! But as for the battle, we shall call it first blood!” A part of the crowd cheered, who had their bets on the man who drew first blood. The two fighters dropped their knives and embraced each other in honour before everyone started filling out of the building. On every level, doors were open to let everyone file out silently before authorities could get to them.

“Stanislaw!” called Yuri a minute later, with more than half of the people in the building already out while the rest were cleaning up.

“Yes, Yuri?” answered Stanislaw, who was rearranging a table.

“Go to the roof, Stanislaw. See if the Marshall is near.”

“Yes, Yuri,” Stanislaw answered obediently, grabbing his arquebus from a table and running upstairs.

The building now more closely resembled a tavern. The largest tavern of Zenislev was also the most notorious. At night it held illegal gambling operations, fights, illegal trades and brothels that served everyone but the military and nobles. The tavern was also notorious for illegally housing Nords, Laurians, Bermians, Lubnites, Khergits, Ormeli, Swadians and any other nationality which has been banned to enter the walls of Zenislev.

The doors of the tavern opened with a bang as four brown-skinned men with lances entered with another four equally brown-skinned men with longbows, followed by a man in simple scale armour and donning a fur hat with a bright blue feather on top.

“Jonathan Weiss,” called Yuri from the second floor, “the great Swadian-Nirdamese Marshall of the Guard of Zenislev, here in my tavern! To what do I owe the pleasure, Marshall?”

“Spare me your innocent tone, Yuri, you know why I am here!” called Jonathan Weiss from the first floor.

“No, honestly, sir Marshall, I don’t,” answered Yuri in a casual tone, “I do not know if you are here to try and press charges for me on illegal prostitution, gambling, fighting or any other charge that you have tried against me! Honestly, sir Marshall, when will you give up and just see my tavern for what it is: an honest respectable establishment.”

Stanislaw came running from the floor above; he said a slight apology to Yuri, who nodded politely before returning to the Marshall.

“One day then, Yuri! Mark my words, one day all this shall go to the streets of Zenislev! When they do I’ll be there waiting!” Yuri was silent as the Marshall and his men backed out of the tavern, closing the doors with a bang.

“A bit late, Stanislaw, but not to worry, everything went fine.” Yuri went on to take a walk around the second floor of his tavern, remarking that he can see everything happening on the first floor from here. “Jonathan Weiss, the incorruptible. Jonathan Weiss, the protector of the nobility. Jonathan Weiss! Jonathan Weiss! When will I ever be rid of him? Stanislaw, send them in.”

“Yes, Yuri.” Stanislaw went off to the stairs outside, and then after a few seconds people started coming in with dice, cards and other gambling materials. After a Nirdamese lord took control of Zenislev, they made all the vices of Vaegir Zenislev outlawed, which included gambling and prostitution, among other things. Tonight, Yuri hosted a gambling den for the slums of Zenislev, under the very eyes of Marshall Weiss who has been under Yuri’s neck for two years trying to catch him red-handed in an illegal operation. Due to Yuri’s popular support, however, Yuri has been able to escape quickly.

Yuri himself is the leader of what he considers a “brotherhood of thieves,” which Yuri collectively calls the “Vory v Zakone,” which translates to “thieves in law.” The Vory – as they are popularly known in Zenislev’s slums – act under their headquarters of Yuri’s tavern, a three story building – one of many in Zenislev’s cluttered streets – is a large tavern capable of housing around two hundred people in the rooms and capable of being filled with up to five hundred people.

Yuri himself never considers what he is doing as illegal, nor does he hold a grudge against the Nirdamese ruling classes of Zenislev. Yuri merely believes that what he is doing is “for the pleasure of the people of Zenislev.” However, Marshall Weiss has been relentless in trying to destroy Yuri’s operations, which have included smuggling weapons and people into Zenislev. Yuri has gained notoriety in the Nirdamese and Vaegir nobles of Zenislev and fame to the rest of the peoples of Zenislev. Marshall Weiss has gone as far as threatening the slum districts of Zenislev in an attempt to destroy Yuri, however all attempts have been futile. Yuri, with Stanislaw as his greatest thief in law, has a large feud with Marshall Weiss, who has been threatening everyone in Yuri’s district in an attempt to thwart him.

1415, winter, Zenislev

The room was quiet. The man was kneeling, head bowed in front of Yuri, who was drinking a mug of water. Stanislaw had his arquebus pointed at the back of the man’s head, match smoking and ready to pull the trigger on Yuri’s order.

“You know Vasili, I knew your father,” said Yuri, putting down his mug on his lap. “He was a respectable man, Feodor. He died two years ago, in 1413, in these very streets that we walk in. My thieves’ army had taken his Tripartite with your uncles and shattered it. What they did was not for the good of Zenislev, and it put the Vory under the threat of Marshall Weiss, who has hounded me like a dog long before the Vory was established. Now your father had desecrated the secrecy of the Vory, now you have destroyed the secrecy of the Vory. Like father and son, yes?”

“Now, what shall I do with you?” Yuri asked, slightly louder so that all of the crowd around the tavern can hear.

“Kill him!” shouted a man in the crowd, and then others started shouting for his death.

“No! He has entered our ranks as a Vor, hence according to our code he cannot be killed, whatever crime he has committed against the Vory. But he shall not leave this tavern unmarked. Put his hand on the table.” Two men came, one of them restraining the man who made no attempt to break free and the other putting his hand on the table. “Stanislaw, shoot the palm.”

“Yes, Yuri,” answered Stanislaw obediently. Stanislaw shot the arquebus, which made a loud bang that mingled with the man’s scream of pain. The crowd around the tavern shook with a loud cheer.

“Now, your last act of redemption,” said Yuri, getting off his seat and kneeling down to look at the man’s face. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” answered the man, still bowing down, his hand, bleeding, still on the table.

“Nineteen,” repeated Yuri. “As your final act for the Vory as a Vor, leave Zenislev. Go far away and marry, have a child and name him Feodor. Remember to remind him that Zenislev, Volga, Odoiev and Ivangorod is not only for the Vaegirs, it is for all.”

Yuri took Stanislaw’s arquebus arm and raised it, along with his arquebus. “My greatest servant, Stanislaw, he has worked with me since the creation of this tavern. He, unlike this man before you, has not, and shall never betray me. Stanislaw is a Lubnite! He is not Vaegir, his parents were not Vaegir and his children will never be Vaegir. My most honoured enemy is a Nirdamese! Marshall Jonathan Weiss has ancestry of Swadian and Nirdamese, but no Vaegir! You will all remember that! Zenislev is not and shall never be for the Vaegirs alone!”

The man got up, and as he got up the crowd went silent. “Yes?” asked Yuri, looking the man in the eyes as the man finally raised his head.

“I’d like to leave now,” said the man.

“Where will you go?” asked Yuri.

“Odoiev,” answered the man.

“Very well. Stanislaw!”

“Yes, Yuri?” answered Stanislaw.

“Give him a hundred denars, food, clothes, a horse. Also find someone to fashion papers claiming his nobility. Would that suit you, Vor?” asked Yuri.

“Yes, Yuri,” answered the man.

“Good, now go.”

“Thank you, Vor.”

1417, winter, Zenislev

The snow was cold on Yuri’s feet. Yuri was reading a piece of parchment. Stanislaw’s arquebus glowed beside him as his Vory were assembled in rank-and-file in front of them.  “Marshall Weiss has given you a title, Stanislaw.”

“What is it?” asked Stanislaw, blowing on the match of his arquebus.

“’Rostislav,’” answered Yuri, “it means ‘usurper of glory’ in Vaegir, Weiss is blaming you for removing the glory in all the conflicts with the Vory.”

“Stanislaw Rostislav,” repeated Stanislaw, “I like it, Yuri. Should we thank the Marshall?”

“Not now, Stanislaw. Now, you have an army to command.”

“Of course, Yuri,” answered Stanislaw.

“Now, let us prepare for battle, Stanislaw. Get your arquebusiers on the roofs, get my pikes and shields in the front lines and get the rest in formation, in the battle lines or inside the houses, wherever they may be. Oh, and get your trumpets on the roofs with your arquebusiers.”

“Yes, Yuri,” answered Stanislaw as he headed off.

Yuri took another piece of parchment that read out the title: “Last stand of the Vory.”


The Marshall Weiss’ drums were ringing loudly at the sides of the streets. The Three Ends streets all met and formed an intersection right in front of Yuri’s tavern, removing any way outside of the mass of Nirdamese lancers steadily coming closer. Yuri gave the order, and three formations of Vory lancers, all armed with Swadian lances, but were crudely dressed, all of them distinguished only by wearing a red feather on their helmet or on anything they can place it on.

Yuri motioned for the drums, and they started banging wildly for a few seconds, which made the march of the three Vory lancer brigades faster. Behind them were a mix of Vory infantry armed with knives, axes, bricks, clubs and anything else they can get their hands on. On the rooftops were ten arquebusiers, including Stanislaw. They were inferior to Vaegir arquebusiers, but they were nonetheless effective.

The people marching in the Vory army were an assortment of different peoples ranging from as far as Bermianese to Nordic, from Swadian to Mylesian. All over Calradia the slums of cities responded Yuri’s call-to-arms to join the “honourable thieves” of Zenislev. The Vory ranks swelled, in one day the Vory would have fifty thieves, the next it would have a hundred. It’s these men from all corners of Calradia and beyond that control the lower classes of cities like Zenislev.

The Nirdamese lines on the Three Ends streets had ground to a halt, officers were shouting for the Vory to stop and disperse, however the Vory merely continued to march. Nirdamese officers called for the lancers to get into formation, which Yuri himself saw as his mark. Yuri took his horn, a gift from a Nordic Vory, and blew on it loud. Stanislaw’s trumpeters followed.

Then, peasants from the buildings that flank the Three Ends streets ran out of them and collided with the Nirdamese formations. The Nirdamese formations broke and started to attack the hordes of peasants that were outside the streets. The Vory lancers had stopped marching, per orders, and merely watched the Vory who were now attacking the Nirdamese formations ruthlessly. After a few moments the Nirdamese were able to recover, and an officer in one of the streets had called for a rider to go and call for reinforcements. Marshall Weiss, it seems, was not present in the first wave.

Yuri blew his horn again, and the trumpets followed. The Vory rabble now dispersed and returned to their buildings, carrying with them dead and wounded, recovering while the lancer formations now marched forward again, and colliding with the Nirdamese lancers just as they were able to recover. The lance battle was brutal. Just as Yuri had expected, the Vory lancers were no match to the Nirdamese formations. The Vory, however, held their ground and took in the punishment. The Nirdamese lancers now continued marching forward, wiping out the Vory lancers, whittling them down to a few ranks before Yuri sounded his horn again. Following the trumpets, Stanislaw’s arquebusiers emerged from the tops of the buildings, shooting into the midst. Stanislaw and his arquebusiers have been given specific orders to shoot, if possible, the officers who barked commands at the lancers. No success, only one officer was shot, and he was merely injured. The arquebusiers are lucky to not have enemy longbowmen.

Stanislaw’s trumpet rang out, and Yuri spotted him on top of the building. He was waving at him and pointing to the other direction. It seems that Marshall Weiss has arrived with the reinforcements. Yuri sounded his horn and out came the hordes of Vory from the buildings, now supporting the thinning lancers, some of them picking up the lances and continuing the pressure on the Nirdamese formations.

Finally, the Nirdamese formations broke and made a run for it, this was what Yuri was waiting for. Yuri sounded his horn once more, followed by Stanislaw’s trumpeters. The Vory now grabbed hold onto the remaining Nirdamese and held them hostage, bringing them to the back of the Three Ends streets and in front of Yuri’s tavern. The remaining Vory now collected the dead, tended to the wounded and started building barricades. Some of the Vory were sent ahead to distract Marshall Weiss, those men who volunteered were collectively known as the Vory Deadmen Brigade, those who fully submitted their lives to the Vory and are more than willing to die for their fellow thieves.

The Deadmen Brigade consisted of a hundred peasants, and represents the only standardised soldiers of the Vory. They were all equipped with simple haubergeons which Yuri himself smuggled into Zenislev. The haubergeons were painted with red stripes on the arms to differentiate them on the battlefield. The rest of their armour would be an assortment of helms and boots. Their shields were circular and steel, painted with a red palm on the centre. Their weaponry ranges from simple clubs to heavy Nordic axes. It’s these Deadman Brigades that take the fiercest brunt of the damage, being trained to never run from battle, being given the mantra that to die in the Deadman Brigade is to die for all Vory.

The Deadmen Brigade worked wonders; the hundred-strong Vory of the Brigade cleanly stopped Marshall Weiss in his tracks for a good five minutes, more than enough time to build a suitable barricade strong enough and high enough to stop the Marshall. Yuri didn’t need to sound the trumpets, for the Deadmen Brigade had done their purpose of dying for the Vory. Yuri called for the Nirdamese prisoners to be brought to the roof with him, in full view of Marshall Weiss, who was now hacking away at the barricade with the help of some Vaegir guards.

Yuri sounded his horn again, and called out loud, sure that Marshall Weiss shall hear him.

“Marshall Weiss!” Yuri called out, at once all the noise stopped, even the Marshall’s soldiers stopped. “We want peace!”

“You will get no peace, Yuri!” answered Marshall Weiss, “there will be no peace until the day I see you hanged!”

“Then I propose an exchange, Marshall Weiss! I have with me fourteen Nirdamese lancers, all great soldiers, all of them ready to be held hostage by the Vory!”

“Damn you, Yuri! What do you want in return?”

“I want the Three Ends, Marshall Weiss! All I want is the Three Ends; peace shall come when the Three Ends are mine!”

“That is an uneven trade, Yuri! I want more!”

“What more is there, Marshall Weiss?!”

“The ferocity of your men is something unseen nowadays, Yuri! I want your men! Those men who fought us with no chance of their survival! I want that, I want their ferocity, their bravery!”

Yuri was silent for a few seconds, considering his options. “In exchange for peace and the Three Ends, you can have your men and my Deadmen Brigade, Marshall Weiss. Do we have an accord!?”

“We have an accord, Yuri! Nirdamese honour!” answered Marshall Weiss, trusting that Nirdamese honour shall be enough to convince the Vaegir Yuri.

1418, winter, Wercheg

Yuri continued staring at the cold water with Stanislaw at his side, blood-soaked but otherwise unharmed. “Have you ever killed a man, Yuri?” asked Stanislaw, who in the past year has properly earned his nickname of Rostislav by commanding the Deadman Brigade, which lead the charge into Wercheg, killing all one-hundred soldiers of the Brigade but otherwise providing a foothold long enough to let the main army enter and capture the city.

“No, Stanislaw and I hope I never will,” answered Yuri, kneeling down and feeling the cold water on his hand. “The war here is ending, Stanislaw. Those Swadians have taken Nibelheim, Tihr will soon fall. There will be no more wars, no more source of prestige for the Vory.”

“So what’s next then, Yuri? We could hire ourselves out as mercenaries for the Swadians, they’re fighting a losing war against the Empire, and we could help.”

“No, Stanislaw. It won’t do. I want them to remember who we are: thieves. I want the seas, Stanislaw. There are ships in this harbour, grand ships. Day-by-day our Vory are leaving for the fertile coasts of Bermia to loot ships, plunder them and capture them. I want Bermia, Stanislaw.”

“Then we can take it, Yuri,” answered Stanislaw, setting down his arquebus and taking a seat on the cold grass. “We’ll take a fleet of ships, take all the Vory with us and head for Bermia, it’s not a problem.”

“No, Stanislaw. Our place is here. I have a wife, Stanislaw, you will remember her.”

“Dear Elizabeth, of course, always kind when I visit,” answered Stanislaw, washing his face with the cold salt-water.

“My children will be the new lords of the thieves; I must command the thieves from here.”

“Then what are you suggesting, Yuri?”

“I want you to take a ship, Stanislaw. Take some of the finest seamen in the Vory and set sail, be a pirate, an honourable one. Stanislaw,” Yuri said, standing up, “I’m afraid this shall be the end of your service. You shall be greatly honoured and remembered by the Vory.”

“It was an honour to serve, Yuri,” answered Stanislaw, standing and grabbing his arquebus. “Know that I shall take the name of the Vory with me to the seas of Bermia, and I shall tell glorious tales of Yuri, the King of Zenislev!” At once Stanislaw did not hesitate to leave Yuri and gather the Vory that now flooded the newly conquered streets of Wercheg.

“Farewell then, Stanislaw,” said Yuri silently, leaving immediately for Zenislev.

Now that Stanislaw has left, the throne of the King of Zenislev shall forever remain vacant, Yuri shall make sure that the throne shall only be occupied by his friend, Stanislaw Rostislav, King of Zenislev.

Special thanks to Gangs of New York for a basis of inspiration.

Comments?

Sorry for the double post.

And along came Zenislevian Mafia, nice.

Not actually, but somewhere along those lines, yeah. They're based on the real Vory v Zakone, minus the cool tattoos and some of my own creations from watching Gangs of New York nonstop three times.

amazing, I was off the forums for a while and still off M&B( ) but you guys just don't know when to stop with these pieces of art, do you ?

BTW, Bunduqari, i read your pice about Symmachus, a few weeks ago, and damn, it was impressive O_O

Thanks Nikephoros, I didn't expect it would impress anyone because usually, when I start writing anything, I'm thrilled with the idea but as I come closer to the end of it, everything I wrote looks suddenly less interesting than it did when I had the idea.. Gives me a rotten feeling about my story as if it was a waste of time for me and the reader. I don't know where this feeling comes from but I'm guessing that it has to do with my writing style, which is far from the usual styles used in adventure books(I'm not a professional). Anyone else has this too?

Yeah, I kinda feel that too. I kinda have to go and proof read again and remove any unnecessary hints to dairy products in my text. Which I sometimes insert without knowing while typing something rather long.