[MBS] - SoD: Journals

What theme interests you the most in "SoD: Journals" ?

  • The characters

    Votes: 6 5.5%
  • The cultural backgrounds

    Votes: 11 10.0%
  • The battles

    Votes: 13 11.8%
  • The political schemes

    Votes: 15 13.6%
  • The "conspiracy"

    Votes: 10 9.1%
  • Everything !

    Votes: 50 45.5%
  • Nothing, it's all lame (then why do you read it, huh ? :P )

    Votes: 5 4.5%

  • Total voters
    110

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[MBS] - Mod-Based-Story:

MOUNT AND BLADE - SWORD OF DAMOCLES
JOURNALS

Author's notes: Since I came to like the SoD world quite a bit, I decided to start writing "SoD: Journals". Just like the title says, it's about journals, or sometimes, letters and reports, from all sorts of people, poor peasants and almighty rulers alike, involved in the SoD storyline one way or another, describing the events those lead to the conquest of the home continent, the invasion of Calradia, the defeat of the Legion, and the liberation of the home continent, each seen and described depending on the writers' personal views. Every character, location, historical and cultural background is purely fictional and is NOT related to the actual incoming SoD storyline in any way (or if it is, it is merely a coincidence). SoD: Journals is a fan-fiction. BUT if any of the SoD staff comes to like them and wish to use them as lore material, well, I won't stop them, just please credit me, that's all. The rest of you, sit back and enjoy the story, and please, comment it - I like to know what others think of my writing skills :smile:

"SoD: Journals" is based on the world of the original "Mount and Blade" game (NOT "Warband") and "Sword of Damocles Mod v4.6".

The individual stories are short, as the represent only one specific day or event, but as you read further, you'll eventually get a full picture. I plan to add a couple of writing per week, so this will eventually evolve into a large storyline :smile:

WARNING:
- Current and future writings may contain mild language and descriptions of severe violence. If you are bothered by such things, don't read my writings. If your childish innocence gets devastated, remember, I warned you.
- You need at least a moderate level knowledge of English language to understand all words and phrases. I could write in "high-level-English" style, but I saw it better to make things understandable for the majority. Nevertheless, have an online dictionary with you just in case.

Since "SoD: Journals" will be one heck of a story (at least in length), I made ALL posts in the first page "Reserved". Hopefully that will be enough...
This first post will serve as an introduction post and annal. From here, you'll find specific writings more easily.

GENERAL STORYLINE:
An epic struggle set in the world of Mount and Blade. Learn how the people of the SoD universe lost their homeland, how they started anew, how they took revenge and began a new cycle.
War is always with us; sometimes it's a debate, sometimes it's a bloody battle to the death. There are always heroes and villains, but who is which, only a sane historian can decide...

POST 2: parts 1-15
1. Visions
2. Pact of Neutrality
3. Report from a fighter
4. A faithful warrior
5. Present history
6. Centurion reports - I.
7. A bored sergeant
8. Noble troubles
9. Religion teaches us... I. (The One)
10. Legionary complaints
11. Replacing the losses
12. Religion teaches us... II. (The Void)
13. Knight in shiny armor (?)
14. National differences
15. Defeat results victory ?
POST 3: Parts 16-30.
16. Centurion Reports - II.
17. Keep dreaming, princess...
18. Religion teaches us... III. (Old Gods)
19. The winner takes all
20. Mysterious, to say the least
21. Religion teaches us... IV. (Self Realization)
22. Strategy on advanced level
23. Force of habit
24. Religion teaches us... V. (Faithless)
25. Big changes, big mess
26. Advertisement or propaganda ?
27. Honor, tradition, stupidity
28. Likely allies
29. Meanwhile...
30. The grand plan manifests
POST 4: Parts 31-40.
31. When freedom slips away
32. Kindred spirits
33. Centurion Reports - III.
34. Foreigners...
35. The remnants prepare
36. The future seems clear
37. Mess with the best, screw up like the rest
38. Succession guaranteed
39. Heroic last stand
40. The beginning ends
POST 5: Parts 41-49.
41. New people, new problems
42. Gaining a foothold (legally) - I.
43. Gaining a foothold (illegally) - I.
44. Gaining a foothold (legally) - II.
45. Gaining a foothold (illegally) - II.
46. Old rivals observed
47. The fated meeting
48. Royal problems
49. A people divided
POST 6: Parts 50-60.
50. Dreams come real...
51. A favor
52. Identity problems
53. Expanding family
54. Uninvited guests
55. Democracy ? Yuck !
56. In unity lies strength
57. Comrades
58. Military lessons - I. (Aden)
59. Back at home - I.
60. Military lessons - II. (Antaria)
POST 7: Parts 61-67.
61. Strangers
62. Military lessons - III. (Marina)
63. Conspirators
64. Business is business
65. Military lessons - IV. (Villianese)
66. Cycle of life
67. Politics...
POST 8: Parts 68-70.
68. Complications
69. The mail always gets through
70. Ravens and Eagles
POST 9: Parts 71-73.
71. Back at home - II.
72. From the life of a king
73. Treachery knows no distance

PARTS ABOUT RELIGIONS:
Ideals, beliefs or superstitions, they are part of our lives. Strange enough, in a world of many religions, everyone prays the same way...
POST 2:
- 9. Religion teaches us... I. (The One)
- 12. Religion teaches us... II. (The Void)
POST 3:
- 18. Religion teaches us... III. (Old Gods)
- 21. Religion teaches us... IV. (Self Realization)
- 24. Religion teaches us... V. (Faithless)

PARTS ABOUT MILITARY BACKGROUND:
Everything has a reason behind it, the evolution of different military habits and traditions is no exception. See why are armies made up the way they are.
POST 6:
- 58. Military lessons - I. (Aden)
- 60. Military lessons - II. (Antaria)
POST 7:
- 62. Military lessons - III. (Marina)
- 65. Military lessons - IV. (Villianese)

CHAIN OF CONSPIRACY:
There's a dark intention that is controlling events... someone, or something pulling the strings behind the scenes... we need to track it down before it's too late.
Parts involving important info or hints about the conspiracy:
1., 5., 20., 22., 29., 30., 39., 40., 41., 46., 47., 50., 54., 59., 64., 73.

POST 10-13: Reserved (for now)

PS: I decided to make a new topic instead of modifying the old one, so I saved some time for the mods :razz: I guess this was the clearest thing to do. The conversation in the old topic are not THAT important anyway... I will soon lock the old topic, and maybe eventually delete it. Thank you for understanding.

ENJOY !!!
 
1. Visions

Another year has passed to bring yet another forth, and keep the wheel of time rolling. Celebrations are being held all around the lands, and for a brief time, peace graces the world. I wish it would be a lasting peace, but, it seems people just love war. Why ? I never knew, and I never will. But if there's something I do know, it's that something is... wrong.

The peasants call me a stupid old man. I wish they would be right... but alas, I'm damned to be wise in the middle of a dirty little village in Aden. But enough of whining; for myself, I have no fear. But it troubles me that I bear the knowledge of something... sinister...

The omens are getting stronger by each day. Even last night, I had a terrible vision. I saw a great conflict... broken ruins and shattered corpses under a lunatic, burning sun... everything we know... gone !

War often rages in these lands, true. But this time, something very, very terrible will take place. Or perhaps, is it a warning that my village will be razed ? Or... is it something else ? The visions are hard to translate, even for the greatest seers. And I am not such a gifted one. Which makes me wonder, why did the Old Gods send me such a vision ? They are not cruel... they have watched over me since my birth, and despite many troubles, I had a good life so far. But now... I... I fear ! I cannot help it !

What should I do ? Should I tell the villagers what I saw ? Yes, I should... but, no, they wouldn't listen. They never did. But in any case... one day, we will have to face this foretold terror, I'm sure of it. But for now... I hope my sleep will be calmer tonight.

- Goud, the Forgotten Seer
Kingdom of Aden, Vasd village, 1223. January 1.

2. A Pact of Neutrality

PACT OF NEUTRALITY

For the sake of the people and to stop the needless destruction and bloodshed.

The Roman Empire was caught in the war between the Republic of Marina and the Kingdom of Aden for years, despite not being agressive nor allied to either of them. This unnecessary conflict has caused the death of thousands without reason, especially since Aden and Marina are practically neighboring lands, but both sides tried to break into Roman territory for strategical purposes. However, the Roman Empire had no intention of being part of this conflict in the first place, and as such, it asks for a state of neutrality.

Therefore we, the statesmen signing this pact, assure that neither Marina or Aden will threaten the Roman land for a period of 10 years, and will wage their battles on their neighboring borders only, until the pact lasts or peace is made between them. In return, the Roman Empire shall release any prisoners of war caught during the earlier period of the war, and allows the merchants of both Aden and Marina to travel and sell their goods on Roman territory free of taxes.

Hereby we agree to the terms of the pact and ensure that they will be carried out, as we all agreed:

- Janus Konstantinus, Emperor of the Roman Empire
- Adena Riterherz, Princess of the Kingdom of Aden
- Huber Tames, Elder Councilor of the Republic of Marina
Roman Empire, Mauritus city, 1223 March 6.

3. Report from a fighter

To Andui Hals, High Chief of the Hals Clan

Hail Chief !

As the boys might have informed ya, the damned Roman bastards made peace with those imbeciles, Marina and Aden, sayin' they want no more bloodshed. Hah ! Wish I could grab one of their's neck, that would teach 'em ! Even blind men could see that they want a piece of us !

The old story, aye Chief ? They disturb the Old Gods, chop and burn our woods and sail on our rivers without askin' for it ! And when we killed 'em, they said we were the villains ! Villianese... villains... they can't even make a difference with their steely skulls, can they ? Ha !

Anyway, I led my fighters outside the clan territory, to the edge of the "common border", as ye asked. There are already more Roman lackeys than before, but not much of an attack force as of yet, I add.

I also met with some men from the Cenini Clan. Scoutin' like us, and they did not like the sight either. I would be not suprised should we got a raid invitation. Heck, I hope we will ! Arr !

In the meantime, we stick around and wait for further orders, Chief. And wish ya luck on yer upcoming duel with Eddog Gazt !

- Tronax, yer trusty servant and comrade
Dutchy of Villianese, Roman-Villianese border, 1223. April 20.

4. A faithful warrior

Another day of glory, my people ! Another victory over the false-faithed Antarians !

Though, to be honest, I did not expect anything else than victory. The Antarians are a proud and mighty opponent, but against the rage of the Sahra, no armor can protect. The Antarians never understood the desert... nor our beliefs. They do not understand how the Void gives life... or how it takes it. And for their ignorance, weakness and death was their reward.

As the storm of sand and dust swept their ranks, their fate was already sealed. Disorganized and confused, they were easy prey for our riders. So they died, like everyone who ever raised arms against Zerrikania.

Soon, we will drive them out from or lands; I don't think, I KNOW we will. On the other hand, the news we receive from the capitol are rather concerning. His Eminence, the Sultan, is planning reforms, including giving more rights to the so-called "lower classes". Though the details are not clear yet, we already came to a conclusion with my fellow brethren in the war camp:

DISGRACE ! Simply disgrace, both against our ancestors and our faith ! Zerrikania has a long past, dating back to centuries. It was always a land where the strong ruled, and the weak served the strong. But, if a weak person proved him or herself, he or she could rise higher. It was always so. Many of the Timariot under my command are descendants of former slaves themselves.

A Sipahi said the reforms would might improve our relations with Antares and Marina, but he also fears that if the weak are given more rights, they will eventually demand more; if they are given more, they will demand even more which will lead to a collapse of our culture, and if refused, a riot will take place. We all agreed. Just what is our Sultan thinking ? True, starvation and strife decimates our land. This has to be taken care of. But I refuse to acknowledge that the weak would gain much without any proof of their worthiness !

I'm getting tired; I banish my raging thoughts. The next day, we advance further. For another day of glory will come !

- Yasar Al-Kanath, Immortal warrior of Zerrikania, worshiper of the Void
Zerrikanian Sultanate, Sahra Desert, 1223. August 3.

5. Present history

Those who control the past, control the future - so have taught me my wise teachers. "Real" history is made by everyone; "False" history is written by victors. Alas, most people know only the "false" history; that's why I longed to know the truth. To enlighten future generations of our past, and save them from committing the same mistakes as our predecessors; after all, those who don't know the past, are damned to experience it in their own life.

However, for the moment I decided to put aside my lust for knowledge about the ancient times; instead, I'm focusing on the present, knowing it would be history one day. In a time of constant war, true history must be written and safeguarded. It is the responsibility of historians like myself.

Currently, all countries are participating in wars for one reason or another:

Aden wages war against Antaria and Marina.
- The conflict between Aden and Marina stretches back by decades. At a time, the Marinan political and economic system was an existing utopia for the Adenian peasantry, and this led to several bloody rebellions. After quelling the revolts, the Adenian Magnates said it was a planned Marinan effort to make the kingdom crumble, and as such persuaded the king to declare war against Marina, which, in return, declared war as well. War fortune is rather chaotic, but overall, staging.
- The conflict between Aden and Antaria is caused by a strategical area laying on the Antarian-Adenian border. About 7 years ago, Antaria captured these cities and their surroundings, and despite Adenian efforts to take them back, they remain under Antarian rule... for now.
Antaria wages war against Aden and Zerrikania.
- (For the Antarian-Adenian conflict, see the reason above)
- The conflict between Antaria and Zerrikania is mostly for religious purposes, at least so they say. From time to time, the Antarians declare crusades against Zerrikania, "to liberate the oppressed peasants and slaves and spread true faith". However, I believe the reason behind the crusade is to keep the significant Antarian army in shape and to loot riches from the Sultanate's famous temples and vaults. The fact that the Zerrikanians never harassed the Antarians too much seems to support my view, though I must admit that the Antarians were always a religious, somewhat zealous people.
Zerrikania wages war against Marina and Antaria.
- (For the Zerrikanian-Antarian conflict, see the reason above)
- The conflict between Zerrikania and Marina is caused by the fact that many Zerrikanian nobles prefer to raid and pillage less-defended Marinan villages in hope for getting a lot of prisoners, who can be sold at the slave market for good price. Slavery was always an important part of Zerrikanian society, but unlike many think, it has its advantages: talented and skilled people can attain a higher social status here, while in their homelands they would often stay lowly workers for the rest of their life. Nevertheless, Marina does not stand for the massacre of its populace, and is continuously reinforcing its defensive lines and building new messenger posts to reduce the potential threat, as the majority of the regular army is needed to fight against Aden.
Marina wages war against Zerrikania and Aden.
- (For both conflicts, see the reasons above)
Villian wages war against the Roman Empire, and vice versa.
- The Villianese Duchy was never a fully united state, but rather, a chaotic union of clans, living by their own laws, not caring about the other countries. However, Roman expansion attempts in their territory resulted in savage raid attacks against would-be Roman settlers and caravans; in return, the Romans sent forth Legions to crush the "barbarians", but were unable to match them in forest battles, not to mention the soldiers were mostly Velites, fresh recruits given a month of training, nothing more. However, as the Roman Empire has settled things with its neighbors - Aden and Marina -, it is likely that the Romans will move their more elite troops against the Villianese folks.

Currently, I'm watching the development of the Roman Empire with great interest. Their latest pact with Aden and Marina gave them a good chance to revitalize their economics and re-deploy their forces, possibly to conquer some Villianese territories rich of natural resources. I also suspect they might seal a trade pact with Zerrikania sometime in the near future, as Roman aristocrats take great pleasure in buying new servants for their households - straight from slave merchants.

On a sidenote, I received an offer from a friend of mine to travel across the great sea, to a southern land he called Calradia. At first I hesitated, but the temptation of discovering a new realm was too much to resist for a man like me. I will pass my studies to a fellow historian to continue observation and recording in my absence.

- Bernand Halap, historian of the University of Sciences
Republic of Marina, Arbun city, 1223. August 14.

6. Centurion reports - I.

XIV. Report on the expansion in Villianese territory
To: Legate Gaius Marius

Redeployment of the VIII. and IX. Legions is finally finished; our forces near the Villian-Roman borderline count as many as 9000 soldiers, including 5200 Velites, 2500 Hestati, 1300 Lancearii. Mercenary-Centurion Barborus sent word that his arrival will be delayed by a week because, as I quote his letter, "those Zerrikanian bastards are making a hard bargain". On the other hand, he promised he will bring additional Sagittarii mercenaries along with his elite Triarii warriors to counterweight his delay.

However, with all due respect my Legate, I must point out that it was a serious disadvantage for our forces that many of the Legions were needed to rebuild the Roman-Adenian-Marinan border territories, and as such the Villianese Dutchy have had time to prepare against our intended attack. At least it seem that the Villianese are truly aware of our expansive intentions. Our scouts reported that warriors from different clans held meetings, possibly to temporarily ally against our forces. Raid attacks on our supply caravans and outposts are also becoming more frequent, but thanks to the increased presence of guards, they were unable to cause significant damage.

If everything proceeds well, the attack may commence within less than a month, though we must be aware of the coming winter; it would be best if we would either strike as soon as possible and crush the Villianese while they aren't yet united, or wait until the winter passes and attack with a full-scale invasion force. In either case, the men are already lusting for cracking some barbarian skulls. My fellow Cenurions and myself are looking forward to a successful campaign.

For the Roman People and the Roman Emperor ! Hail Caesar !

- Centurion Markus Maximus
Roman Empire, Roman-Villianese border, 1223. September 26.

7. A bored sergeant

I feel bored. Really bored. Ever since we conquered Irisgard and Rivergard, our company has received lowly jobs. Killing bandits, slaying forest animals, hunting down dark knights, rescuing prisoners, the usual. I never thought I'd say that, but I miss the battle with the Black Army. At least they were really something. Alas, the Antarians have no intention of employing us in the campaign against the Zerrikanians, despite their severe losses in the Sahra desert. Well, too bad for them. Our Equestrians could take on the Zerrikanian riders any day.

When asking around, I came to realize that many of our soldiers think in the same way like I do. When I reported my discovery to the company master, he said he feels the same way, but he can't do anything about it. Well, sadly that's true. No assignment, no job.

I spend my time training the Initiates and reading the annals. I never liked reading old books, but boredom encourages man to do strange things. Now I'm somewhat glad I was bored, because I made some interesting research on our past. And I'm somewhat angry, because this research just made me wonder even more why we aren't hired for some more serious jobs.

According to these writings, we, Kilnor's Dragons are possibly one of the oldest mercenary companies on the continent, and, I might say, in the whole world as well. Our past dates back to roughly 200 years earlier, when a man of Antarian origin named Garon Boreas, after 2 years of service in the royal army, decided to found his own guild of mercenaries. With his small personal retinue, he traveled to the ancestral city of Valisgard where he made his home in Kilnor's Keep. Kilnor was said to be a wizard of great power, and while he was already dead by the time Garon came, his spirit still haunted his home, until Garon challenged him to a duel, and won over him. Well, I never really believed in all those magic and ghost story craps the old hags in my village always told me, but Garon must had been a really fine fellow nevertheless. In any case, Garon and his heirs slowly developed the company - now known as Kilnor's Dragons - into one of the most successful ones in existence. Our company often went trough dire times, but despite all of this, we are still here, still enduring.

Sure, our annalists probably exaggerated sometimes, but when overseeing my men, I feel like all of the heroic deeds recorded in the annals are true. I really hope we will receive some better assignments soon. Because I feel bored. Really bored...

- Captain Pitt Martes, Platoon Leader of Kilnor's Dragons
Empire of Antaria, Irisgard city, 1223 November 9.

8. Noble troubles

Another day, another madness ! I swear, if it wasn't for my devotion to my people, I would have left this whole damned piece of earth behind long ago !

As long as I can remember, the Kingdom of Aden was always a messed-up country. The reason ? The nobility. Of course. Who else ? This may sound ridiculous from a Magnate like myself, but denying the truth doesn't make things any better. The source of our problems is no other than our own selfish politics and power-mongering.

The royal family has the greatest amount of land and manpower at its disposal, but in comparison to the nobility, the royal family is weak. If 4-5 Magnates - out of the 30 - were to raise a common rebellion, they couldn't do anything. Fortunately, or unfortunately, even two allying Magnates are a rare sight. They are just too busy nurturing their own lands and private armies. But, I ask, then why are we having a king in the first place ? Why don't we let Aden just fall apart to many small kingdoms ? At least this would be something "honest".

But still, we NEED a king. Why ? Because he is a cohesive force. As long as some people back him up, he makes the laws, he orders most men around. His presence means unity. And without unity, Aden wouldn't exist anymore. I think that's why we have the royal family. The Magnates are just too arrogant to admit, they need each other to a certain degree. So they raise a king and blame everything on him. How typical.

And me ? I am one of the few who actually believe Aden could be a better place. Unlike others, I care not only for my own wealth and rights, but for the peasants and soldiers of all Aden. I support the royal family in necessary reforms, I lend them my army when need rises, I am a good friend, and a loyal vassal.

However, I'm in a pretty confusing situation. The Black Army, the king's personal mercenary force has suffered a serious defeat at Irisgard roughly 7 years ago at the hands of the Antarian Royal Army and Kilnor's Dragons, and taking the opportunity, some Magnates used this defeat as an excuse to limit the king's military influence. Since then, the Black Army received lowly jobs, though they are regaining their respect due to serial victories earned on the Adenian-Marinan frontline, while the Magnates' Banderiums have been overwhelmed on more than one occasion. Sadly, my own Banderium was one of the overwhelmed ones, so currently I attend to the training of my new Squires, Knights and Heavy Cavalry.

Not to mention that after yesterday's court meeting, I came across Adena Riterherz, one and only princess of Aden. She dragged me away, and silently asked me if I could give her advice on how to charm men. When I asked her who does she want to charm, she said a name: "Rihard Stelhart". I almost fell unconscious. Rihard Stelhart ? Second Prince of Antaria ?! I wonder if our poor king knows of his daughter's feelings. Come to think of it, how did Adena and Rihard meet in the first place ? Somewhat shocked, I could barely talk. In the end, I said she should learn to bake cookies, because men love their stomach.

Now at my home castle, I tried to think things trough. A marriage would certainly improve our relations with Antaria, and should our king die without heir, Rihard would inherit the throne. Knowing the ambitious and proud bloodline of the Antarian kings, I would certainly welcome him. But I fear the other Magnates wouldn't be too happy.

It's hard to be a "good" nobleman in Aden. Still, I believe it is my duty. And the knowledge that I ensure the future of thousands is my reward.

- Hernam Matthels, Magnate of the Kingdom of Aden
Kingdom of Aden, Matthelgard castle, 1223. December 25.

9. Religion teaches us... I. (The One)

BOOK OF TEACHINGS​
Part 4.: About The One's nature and servants​
(Page 176-179.)​

You ask, my good friend, human-brother, what is what I believe in ? Who or what is the "thing" I serve ? To what do I devote my short mortal life, my very existence ? And why ? I have two words of answer for you:

THE ONE.

"The" One. The "One". It is everywhere. It is everything. The One made the world out of nothing but its own will, The One made earth, home of animals; water, home of the fish; wind, home of the birds; and fire, to enlighten the whole world with its light, and to be wielded by men as a tool of creation and un-creation. The One gave man consciousness, and trusted it to safeguard all creation.

Alas, just as The One made all that is good, The One also made all that is wrong as well. Why ? To put humanity to constant testing. In every day and hour, minute and moment, you are watched, you are challenged. Sometimes, your challenge is but a long day of work. Sometimes, it is a fight to the death in defense of your loved ones. And so on, and so forth.

Those who hide from the challenges, shall be judged as cowards before The One. Those who face and pass them, or die trying, shall be judged as good servants. Those who are tyrants, shall be slaves, and those who aid others, shall be kings. The One watches, The One knows.

And I, my good friend, human-brother, I am but a servant, who was sent back, to spread The One's will. I fight against all things wrong, and set lives right. I shield the weak, and help them in their struggles. I obey the just rulers, and aid them in their fine efforts. I challenge evil, and overthrow it. And all of this just for The One, to spread true faith, to align peoples. Each day, more men follow us. And one day, the children will gather the fruits of the work of their ancestors. Until this time comes, I will not rest, nor shall my faith-brothers.

"The" One. The "One". It is everywhere. It is everything. If you have no faith in The One, then, my good friend, human-brother, you have no faith, at all.

- Arathus Lazares, Guardian of The One (preaching installments from the Book of Teachings during an initiation ceremony)
Empire of Antaria, Marthos city, Temple of The One, 1224. February 13.

10. Legionary complaints

My dear Laura,

Perhaps this will be my last letter to you. I'm sorry if this frightens you, but I have little confidence that I will be able to survive in this harsh place for another month.

Our Centurions made a grave mistake by insisting on attacking early. Not only weren't we fully prepared for the winter, but we didn't expect such desperate resistance from the Villianese either. In open field battles, we always won, and this made us too overconfident. Because just as soon as we entered the vast forests, our promising campaign turned into a nightmare. Arrows fly from each direction, war cries surround us. If anyone flees and seperates from his comrades, he will be cut down by the wildmen. Any group caught in a forest battle will be lucky to survive to tell the experience. If we try to cut or burn the trees, the workers will be ambushed, their guards falling dead with arrows in their necks.

After almost five months of constant fighting, we barely moved onwards. The Villianese can't drive us out, but our losses are terrible. And the Centurions blame everything on the low-ranking soldiers, like me. Public executions for cowardice and desertion attemps became a daily sight. The weather is cold, very cold, and the supplies are running low. We can't cut trees to build houses and make campfires, our food portions are getting smaller by each day. Though we secured some key territories, and hopefully the reinforcements will arrive within three weeks, I'm not sure if I can last. The Villianese gained more than enough time to get themselves together, and if we march on, they will fight tooth and nail for their homes.

My dear Laura, should I not live to see you again, please tell our son, Tremus, that I loved him, and shall watch him from the next world.

- Lucianus Baelus, Velites of the Roman Empire
Roman-Villianese frontline, 1224. February 21.

11. Replacing the losses

ONE ! TWO ! ONE ! TWO ! FASTER ! FASTER ! STOP ! RAISE ARM ! CUT LEFT ! CUT RIGHT ! MOVE ON ! ONE ! TWO ! ONE ! TWO ! FASTER ! FASTER !

Seriously, the training instructors drive me insane ! Oh, my poor head... Why am I here ? Why couldn't have had I just stay at home with my wife and children ? Who wanted me to join the Antarian army in the first place ? Not me, that's for sure !

After today's training, I took a look around the camp. Men are coming from all around the three large provinces of Antaria: swordsmen from the mighty cities of Antares, javelin-throwers from the hills of Jarnas and light cavalry from the plains of Redes. Some faces are filled with hope and determination. Others with sorrow. At least now I know I'm not alone with my doubts and worries.

How did it began ? Oh yes... a few weeks ago word was spread that the king needs more soldiers against the Zerrikanians. Alright, I said, let the brave souls join the army, fine by me. But soon it turned out that joining wasn't an offer, but rather, an order. I wish I could be so idealistic and devoted like some of my fellow comrades... and not shiver in fear at the very thought of facing the Zerrikanians... I've heard dreadful tales of them... they take your head, or if not, they will take you as a slave... and sacrifice you during blasphemous rituals, curse your soul and- no, I don't want to think of it !

Much to my relief, I crossed paths with a Paladin of The One. He promised to stand by my side, and preached about courage, for - as he said - evil has little power over the fearless, pure-hearted people. His words eased my burden.

Still, each day, I pray for myself and my family. May The One shield us all... and may he judge us as good servants if we do not survive...

- Kevin Orleon, recruit of the Antarian army
Empire of Antaria, Antares province, Strotas castle, 1224. April 30.

12. Religion teaches us... II. (The Void)

Our religion is perhaps the most misunderstood and mistreated of all. Many people think of the Void as something sinister, and, at the same time, refuse to get to know it better, as if it was easier and safer for them to continue believing in lies. As a knower, yet not fanatic worshiper of the Void, I decided to take my time summing up the main pillars of our religion, so our neighbors may interpret and understand it easier in due time.

What is the Void ? A world beyond ours. A different form of existence. A system. An entity. Words fail to provide us with an exact description. But its nature and functions are described clearly in the TOME OF ABYSS, the holy book of the Zerrikanian priests:

"When a human dies, its soul shall pass on, into the Void, where it is judged: if found weak, but holds some chance for strength if given the opportunity, or found strong, but with the potential of becoming even stronger, these souls are sent back to the mortal world to prove themselves again. Souls who fail to prove strength over and over again, shall be consumed and lost forever, just like souls who oppress the weak with an iron fist and take away any chance to prove themselves. Souls with unmatched faith, strength and devotion will become one with the Void, and judge souls along with it."

However, "strength" and "being strong" does not necessarily refer to muscles. "Strength" is divided into 4 categories, according to the Tome: Strength of the Arm (physical strength, endurance and courage in battle), Strength of the Mind (sciences, courage to experiment, discover and share knowledge), Strength of the Heart (making sacrifices for the sake of others), and Strength of the Soul (struggle to find balance between the previous three Strengths). The fact that someone actually worships the Void or not matters little, if any, though my fellow scholars say that persons with a strong faith are probably judged more kindly.

In the Zerrikanian Sultanate, these beliefs strongly influenced the social structure and everyday life of people. Everyone is born equally: even the Sultan's own children don't have more rights than those of the peasants'. To get higher rank, they must prove themselves as they mature. As such, almost every noblemen pays a great attention to the teaching and training of their children, so they may become just as influential as their parents by the time they grow up. As for the peasantry and the slaves, they have to work hard and pray that their efforts and/or talents will be spotted one day, as the law clearly says that such people must be promoted, accordingly to their services and skills. This inspires many to work hard or start studies. There are many tales of peasants whose descendants eventually became Immortals, and what to say, such stories are not without a basic.

From time to time, warriors emerge with a seemingly unnatural strength and focused mind. Their Zerrikanian names are hard to translate, but most came to know them as "Dark Knights" or "Devourers" - mortal manifestations of the Void, judges of mankind. Before their awakening, these "creatures" usually spend decades in the body of an Immortal until something in their soul reminds them of their real duty: sorting out the weak, and sending souls directly to the Void. It is said that those who slay a Devourer are destined to become one as well in their next life.

While the Void might seem as a monstrous "thing" to many, it is actually a just religion, which spawned a just social order. Tens of thousands of former slaves and peasants could back up this claim.

I hope my work will part the clouds of ignorance and reveal the true nature of our morals, our beliefs, and one day help the people of this continent to accept each other better. The Void teaches us to be selective about moral values, not nationality or social status. This is something all peoples should learn.

- Mustafar Al-Rasam, Theologian of the Void
Zerrikanian Sultanate, Kazum city, 1224. May 8.

13. Knight in shiny armor (?)

By The One, I'm so freaked out ! I'm going to meet a princess ! This can't be ! I must be dreaming or something ! Seriously, this is just not MY roll ! Come on, Rihard, calm yourself... duh. Why did Roland drag me into this ? He was always more interested in ladies than I... by The One, why are we twins ?!

"Come on brother ! You are a man, here's your chance to meet a real princess !"

And what if I don't want to ?! But I must confess, I must seem laughable... me, Rihard Stelhart, winner of several knight tournaments and commander of several victorious battles against the Zerrikanians, afraid of a woman. This just doesn't seem right, but I can't help it, I always felt uncomfortable around ladies, save for my mom of course.

And Roland ? Well, he was quite a womanizer at a time, until roughly 4 years ago he started to develop a deeper relation with Helena Goldemar, daughter of an Antarian noble family. He has been loyal to her ever since. So, when he met with Adena in Mauritus city in the Roman Empire, where he went to because of diplomatic purposes, he introduced himself as "me". By now, Adena totally fell in for him. And now he plays the princess into my hands.

Well, most people would might find this a good opportunity, but I don't ! It's unethical, and just... it's just not right ! Ah Roland, brother, you are so irresponsible ! If the princess finds this out, it could lead to a full-scale war with Aden ! By The One, what should I do ?!?

Pray... yes, that seems like a probable idea right now.

- Rihard Stelhart, Second Prince of the Empire of Antaria
Empire of Antaria, Cipres castle, 1224. May 27.

14. National differences

WEEKLY SCHOLAR

ROMANS = MARINANS ? NOT !

    The relationship between the Republic of Marina and the Roman Empire is rather unique. We have often waged wars against them for one reason or another, but on the other hand a large scale of the Marinan people consider the Romans as our "brother-nation". The recently growing presence of the Unionist Party (UP) is possibly the best proof of that. However, while ancient writings, letters, journals and scholarly studies revealed that our people indeed share a common past, it also made clear why the Marinans and Romans separated in the first place.
    Both the Roman and Marinan libraries and annals mention a savage civil war erupting roughly 420 years ago. The Roman Empire already existed by that time, and the area of modern Marina was part of its territory. However, back then the Roman Empire was governed entirely by the Senate, until they have introduced the rank of "Consul" who governed the state during serious wars. As the Roman Empire fought several bloody battles with Zerrikania back then, a Consul was elected, but when the war was over, he refused to give up his position. Seeing him now as a tyrant, the Senate attempted to remove him by force, but this failed because the Consul had serious support from the army. This eventually led to a three-decade-long civil war, during which the Roman Empire divided into two halves: the Consul's territory, which became the modern Roman Empire with the Caesar ("Emperor") as its leader, and the Senate's territory, which became the Republic of Marina, governed by the Grand Court.
    The Roman Empire is nowadays severely weakened because of the mistaken policies of the past. Unlike its neighbors, the Roman Empire could not keep up in a lot of matters - technology, production, economy, etc., mostly because wasted too much resources for pointless expansionist movements, including campaigns against Zerrikania trough the Sahra Desert, attempts to overthrow Marina several times during our country's short history, and most recently, the invasion of the Villianese Dutchy. The unfortunate geographic position of the Roman Empire (lying in the middle of the continent) also made it involved unnecessarily in several conflicts during its history; the Adenian-Marinan-Roman "border-brawls" are perfect examples of that.
    As for us, the Republic of Marina made a great process in every field of life within a relatively short time period, despite being constantly pressed at several fronts at once. The success of this country lies in well-organized industry, the sane methods of governing, and, most importantly of all, its inhabitants, who don't hesitate to make sacrifices for the whole nation's sake. Our culture developed entirely differently than that of the Romans, this is clear to everyone.
    Don't take me wrong, fellow countrymen: the fact that we are slowly reaching a peaceful status with the Roman Empire is a good thing. However, the "Union between Marina and Rome" and the "Dualist Government System", both envisioned the UP are currently but utopias, and likely remain so for a long time. We must respect and be at peace with our Roman "brothers", but we must never forget how and why we became what we are now.

- Neuton Tanitus, Journalist of the Weekly Scholar
Republic of Marina, 1224. June 11.

15. Defeat results victory ?

Spineless Adenian Magnates... if only the Marinans would hire us, we would show these worthless scum what a REAL war is like !

7 years. 7 years have passed since our first, and only, major defeat at the siege of Irisgard. We, the Black Army, actually failed at a task. But thinking things trough, it was inevidable. Why ? Because a large bunch of the Antarian Royal Army, AND the full force of Kilnor's Dragons were mustered against us ? They were really admirable opponents, but this is not the sole reason behind the failure. Rather, the fact that the Magnates refused to send ANY sort of aid, for one reason or another, AND didn't let us sent further reinforcements to Irisgard either. They let our comrades rot in there, let them die, and even let the populace of the city to be massacred. Why ? Because they don't like having concurrency, that's why ! They left our companions behind, and used this treachery as an excuse to limit our importance AND the king's military influence !

While these events make my blood boil with rage, I can't do anything but swallow my pride and feelings. We are mercenaries. If there's anything that our company learned over the years, it's that **** happens, and we have to get over with it. Part of business. Who knows what the future holds ? Maybe tomorrow, the king will get a knife in his back, and the same Magnates who betrayed us will hire us for their own ends.

And this sort of chaos is just the reason why the Black Army came into existance in the first place. In a country like Aden, who wouldn't want to have the best mercenary army in the known world by their side ?

However, the defeat at Irisgard was a massive blow to us. We lost a big piece of our pride, as well as over 3000 experienced comrades, including some of our best captains. The Antarians lost about five times more men, though, but this doesn't bring the dead back. And if this wasn't enough, our payments are lowered and we receive pathetic assignments.

But things will change soon. Today Mathias, the company master assembled us, and made a lovely speech:

"Yes. We've lost a battle 7 years ago. We've lost some of our best soldiers, our friends, our captains. SO WHAT ?!? We are not dead yet, no matter what others say ! WE ARE STILL HERE ! We are the Black Army, for damn's sake ! The toughest men this world has seen ! And yet, some treat us like lowly vermin ?! Useless greenhorns ?! I say that's ENOUGH ! I say that the people who forced this shame upon us will regret the very day they ever decided to plot against us ! Now, let's see this parchment here: we've been assigned to hold our ground along the southern front until further notice. With our regular marching speed, our redeployment will take 10 days. So, what will we do once we're there ? Will we sit on our butts while those rich bastards make their own country collapse with their failures on the main battlefields ? We could do that, but NO, I have a better idea ! We shall NOT stand our ground. Instead, we will GET ground ! Yes my comrades, we will break into Marinan territory, and will NOT stop until we reach Pilos city, and make it ours ! This will be our revenge for the treachery ! It shall be WE who will win this war ! We will show these maggots who we really are ! WE WILL BE A STORM OF AGONY AND FEAR, as we were meant to be ! For we are the Black Army, and none shall ever dispute our rule in battle again ! WE WILL NEVER LOSE AGAIN !"

I was almost deafened by the battle cries, clapping, clinging of metal, all repeating the same sentence:

"WE WILL NEVER LOSE AGAIN !"

10 days, huh ?

I can't wait.

- Mogar Blasius, Raven Commander of the Black Army
Adenan-Marinan frontline, 1224. June 29.
 
16. Centurion Reports - II.

XXXI. Report on the expansion in Villianese territory
To: Legate Gaius Marius

Despite the received reinforcements, we are advancing very slowly, and each day is like a punishment from Marsus, the god of war. Moving around the forests means serious time loss, moving trough the forests means constant battles with the barbarians, battles where they have the upper hand: we are lacking archers to fend off their bowmen, our Velites are no match for their ill-equipped but savage fighters, and we can't deploy cavalry because they will be struck among the trees, not to mention the hundreds of nasty traps the enemy has set up: spiked pits, rope traps, rolling boulders, and so on, and so forth.

We are getting more experienced at dealing with these threats, though, but sadly, only the Principles, Triarii, and dismounted Sagittarri troops can keep up. The morale of the low-ranking troops is on the bottom. The centurions can't drive them onwards anymore. Some commit suicide, others try to desert, yet others were caught plotting assassination against their superiors (only to be executed in the next morning).

My Legate, I know I might be dismissed from my rank, but I maintain my opinion which I declared in the previous report: this campaign should be halted at once. We lose more than we gain. I suggest to withdraw our forces and make a short-term peace with the Villianese. We're too late stopping the Villianese from uniting against us, that's clear. So instead, we should regroup and reconsider our tactics.

In any case, until further notification, we will continue our attempt to press on, accordingly to your orders.

For the Roman People and the Roman Emperor ! Hail Caesar !

- Centurion Ersus Alexus
Roman-Villianese frontline, 1224. July 4.

17. Keep dreaming, princess...

My dear journal,

I have never been so suprised before in my life like today !

Hm, how was it ? Oh yes, Rihard has been acting somewhat weird recently. He acted as if he was scared of me or something. When I brought him the first cookies I successfully made, he kept some distance, and even later he hesitated about eating it. Seriously, first I thought one of the servants turned me in for practically destroying the kitchen during my first cooking attempts. That would have explained his expression.

But it didn't stop there, no ! Rihard also refused to hold my hands, to sit directly next to me, and his whole character was a bit timid. What could have happened to him ? Does his father not approve of his feelings ? Poor boy ! Or so I thought. This went on for like, months.

Today, I asked him sincerely to tell me, why is he behaving so strangely. He escorted me to a silent corner, and nervously whispered his answer.

The one I fell in love with was not Rihard, but his twin brother, Roland ?! And he did this for getting a girl for his brother, Rihard ?! My heart almost fell out of my chest ! Ah ! I felt like crying, but all of sudden, Rihard had his sword drawn and knelt before me:

"Fair princess, don't misunderstand us; my brother did this for my sake, BUT, as a man of honor, I simply can not accept this whole situation ! That's why I told you everything ! If either my brother or me damaged your heart, which we certainly did, then, princess, I offer revenge on my irresponsible brother by my own sword, throw my title away and be your servant, or end my life right here and now to redeem myself ! Please, princess Adena, I beg you, accept my offer and bear no grudge against us or Antaria !"

Such knightly words... throwing away everything for a lady's honor and his country... and he was dead serious about it ! I just know he was ! Ah my, like a knight from the fairy tales my mom used to tell me !

To make the long story short, I decided to be a forgiving princess. After all, if I hadn't met Roland, I couldn't have met with my knight in shiny armor either, right ? Rihard seemed to be both relived and confused by my answer. In the end, it all turned out well. Rihard bid me farewell with a kiss on my hand. Ah ! So noble and polite ! And handsome, even ! I must be dreaming !

I'm looking forward to meet Rihard again <3

- Adena Riterherz, Princess of Aden
Kingdom of Aden, Ritergard City, 1224. July 17.

18. Religion teaches us... III. (Old Gods)

Why do you think of the Gods as something otherworldly, my young distant-brothers and distant-sisters ? Why do you think they lack the emotions we all have ? Why do you think they aren't among us, even in this very moment ?

Yes, the Gods are among us, so have they written:

"We, the Gods, are always with you. We, the Gods, live amongst you, in the rocks and rivers, in the winds and flames, in the animals and plants, deep within your souls while you live, deep in your mind when you sleep, and in the next world that awaits the dead, in everything you know, and everything you don't know, we are always around you, and deep down inside you. Treat our creation with respect, and we will treat you with love, and those who are the greatest among men, we shall welcome as one of our own; but those of you, who serve their own greed, shall find peace among us nevermore."

What are our gods ? All that exists. They are the spirits who formed the world, the world which formed life and death, the life and death that brought forth our kind.

And one day, the greatest of us will be Gods as well, so have they written:

"When we find one worthy among you, he or she will be visited in visions and dreams, to reveal the purpose of his or her existence: to be our Chosen One, your Champion of Ancestors. They will be men amongst the Gods, and Gods amongst men, for they carry our will, and unleash fury upon those who hurt our creation."

Respect and love the Gods my young distant-brothers and distant-sisters. If you live by their laws, good life is the reward, but fear the Gods as well, for if roused, they can sweep you away, so have they written:

"When our teachings and works are ignored and harmed, we rise up with all the fury your kind came to know: the water can rise and drown you, the ground can open and swallow you, the wind can blow your homes away, and the fire can consume all you loved. So great is our rage, we might hurt those who bore no sin against us. Thus, all of you must bow to the laws we set, for they are for the good of the whole."

Now, my young distant-family, you can understand why we live as we do; and we must protect what is ours, what must stay ours. Look at the Roman filth: they challenge the Gods, and they shall pay for it ! There can be no peace for men of ignorance, destruction and lies ! There can be only WAR !

So have they written.
So it shall be.

- Imona Crow-beak, High Priestess of the Old Gods (educating the children of her tribe, and reading installments from the Stone Tables of the Gods)
Villianese Duchy, Duke's Domain, Temple of the Gods, 1224. July 20.

19. The winner takes all

This is the fourth day I spend in the darkest corners of the dungeons of Pilos city. I share my cell, designed for 4 people, with 11 other prisoners of war. We, the city's original defenders, rotting inside the prison of the city we were supposed to protect. I never knew if there was such a thing like "fate", but if there is, it has a dark sense of humor.

Fortunately, the new owners are not so cruel like we first thought. We are well-fed, and if they receive a nice ransom from someone's family, they let the guy out. Sadly I can't hope too much for my own freedom, as poverty was just the reason why I became soldier in the first place. Though maybe I can come to an alternate deal with my captors...

Oh right. Our captors... the Black Army... No matter how hard I try, I will not forget the horrors I witnessed until the end of my life.

Our spies somehow captured a letter containing instruction for the Black Army to safeguard the souther front. We were happy to acknowledge this, because we could master all our forces against the Adenian Magnates and end the war in our favor. But, as it turned out, the Black Army, for the first time in its existence, disobeyed its orders. And this resulted in a disaster for Marina.

They broke into our territory unexpected, and marched on, encountering little resistance. By the time we withdrew the necessary amount of manpower from the frontlines, they were already deep inside the country. But at least we could crush them finally, encircling them, outnumbering them 6-to-1.

But we were wrong.

Our crossbow bolts and pikes did not find weakness on their formation of heavily-plated Armors. Our infantry was massacred by their Strikers, like pigs in the slaughterhouse. Our flanks collapsed from the attack of their Thornsides and Ironsides; they rode over us like war steeds on a field of grass. The result ? Over 63.000 dead Marinan soldiers, while they lost less than 5.000.

Without any backup or support, in less than a month, they reached and besieged one of our cities of great strategic and industrial importance: Pilos. The walls crumbled and collapsed from the dozens of heavy boulders hurled at them. And from that point, the battle was decided: they have won, the banner of the black raven raising above the broken bodies. And I was there. I saw everything. An ocean of blood, mountains of corpses.

But unlike my fellow comrades, I did not want to throw my life away yet. Along with a few hundred other soldiers, I dropped arms and was taken as prisoner.

While spending my days here, I had the chance to interrogate a Raven Commander. How could they defeat us so easily ?! There's simply no justice in that ! And why did they disobey orders ? And what if Aden will dismiss them for this ?

The Raven Commander - who called himself Mogar Blasius - laughed at me.

"Your failed because you were greenhorns. A few dozen well-trained and equipped Ironsides are worth more than a thousand of your pathetic Conscript Infantry. And don't seek justice in that. Let me tell you something: "Justice" is crap. Once you realize this, life becomes a lot more simple."

His words made me think for a while.

"As for the orders," - he continued - "The company master said he had enough, and decided to show those Adenian bastards who is the boss. Look around, man ! The backbone of the Marinan army is crushed. We did this in service to the king. We practically won this war for Aden ! And, if the Magnates don't like this, we will draw steel, and slice them up as well !"

I was in awe. This whole campaign was a risky and daring act on the account of the Black Army... yet, it worked. Word spreads fast around these lands. Probably, the Adenian Magnates are freaking out from the Black Army's unbelievable victory in these very moments, while the royal family holds a feast in their name.

Back to the original topic; while talking, Mogar mentioned that he witnessed my "exceptional" attempt to organize a group and stand ground to hold back the Black Army's Strikers when they invaded Pilos trough a hole in the wall, and offered me a job in the Black Army as a Mess Sergeant. I have to consider this offer. Maybe witnessing a massacre on the winning side is more favorable to my eyes.

- Zoltan Gaberon, Landskcneht of the Republic of Marina
Republic of Marina, Pilos city (under Black Army control for now), 1224. August 2.

20. Mysterious, to say the least

Yes. The time is nigh. All is set. The pieces are moving. Everything proceeds as planned.

This will mark the beginning of our quest.

Hail to the master !

- "Metaye"
???, ???

21. Religion teaches us... IV. (Self Realization)

Tell me, friend, what was it like to decide what you want to be ? And how did it feel when you became what you wanted to be ? A glorious, satisfying inner warmth... does that sound familiar ?

Some people set their standards too high, only to fell from the heaven of dreams into the rocky ground. Others set up lowly goals, and feel stupid after a while. And those without any goal, are the worst, for a mind without purpose tends to wander in dark places - which is worse than death itself. Very few are those who have a goal they can achieve, and find enjoyment in it for the rest of their lives. Blacksmiths proud of their creation, peasants happy for having a hovel and a family, soldiers addicted to the heat of battle - all the same in a sense: they found their purpose in life. This purpose may or may not influence the life of others. But in either case, you my friend, must respect life, as well as your ability to take it.

Do you need Gods to believe in ? No, friend, forget the Gods; millions suffer, countless innocents, and the so-called "Gods" do nothing. Because they don't exist in the first place. Now, don't call me "Faithless", because I'm not; I do believe in the existence of a higher power. But this power teaches us a different moral. It teaches us to stop waiting for someone to help us, and instead start to help ourselves.

Yes friend. Stop believing in corrupting lies, and start believing in yourself. Follow the speech of your heart. And, if doubts arise within you, just remember my face. Remember this Boundless Knight, who serves no-one, and as such, serves everyone. Remember the man who saved you from the bandits, remember how good he feels to know he does what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you've listened, my friend. But know this: I've shown you the path, but you have to walk on it on your own. You may cross paths with others, for either good or ill. But whatever happens: believe in yourself.

Now, I must depart. Farewell, my friend.

- Uron Halester, Boundless Knight (preaching to a peasant after he saved him from bandits - preaching recorded by Uron's squire)
Kingdom of Aden, near Ribongard castle, 1224. August 15.

22. Strategy on advanced level

To: Janus Konstantinus Caesar
Topic: General report on military politics and conflicts in-/out-side the Roman Empire and planned military movements of the Imperial Legions during year: 1224, season: Summer

My Emperor, hereby I submit the summing of the cases mentioned above, as requested.

INSIDE:

Roman Empire
There had been no signs whatsoever of potential peasant or slave rebellion. The newly opened mines in Casius Province provide us with sufficient metal and stone to maintain the equipment of the Legions and at the same time revitalize the local industry. This will, hopefully, eventually benefit the other Provinces as well. Furthermore, accordingly to your orders, I've finished the plans for the mass-recruiting and training of new Velites to replace the losses at the Villianese front and expand the Legions stationed at the Roman-Marinan-Adenian borderlines. If no problems arise, we will be able to carry out everything as you ordered.

OUTSIDE:

Villianese Duchy
The stubborn resistance of the natives and the rough terrain makes the expansion rather painful, and nearly pointless because of high losses. I decided to order a tactical withdraw and establish a fortified defense line for the time being, reorganize and redeploy the IX. Legion to move the Velites into non-combat territories, and leave only veterans behind. This will reduce the expected future casualties to minimal and maintain stability on the previously captured key areas. On another note, word reached my ear that the election of the new Duke is drawing near, and the clan chiefs all apply for the title. This can provide us with an excellent opportunity for a second attack, but until then we have to be patient.
Zerrikanian Sultanate
The Sultan has finally introduced his long-planned reforms. The peasantry and slaves rejoice, while the nobility and the army are rather upset, feeling their position of power wavering. There had already been an assassination attempt against the Sultan by a group of Sipahi, but failed. It is not clear if the Sipahi acted on their own or were assigned by someone else, but in either case, we must watch Zerrikania carefully. Should the Sultan die, or his political opponents would decide to openly show their true faces, a massive civil war is in sight.
Republic of Marina
The Black Army's campaign left a trail of mass destruction in its wake. Having lost a big part of its army, and an important industrial area devastated, Marina faces both a military and economic crisis, thus seeks to make peace with Aden as soon as possible, and is likely to succeed in this (see the reason below). In addition, a massive re-building project has been initiated, in which the XIX. and XX. Auxilary Legions will participate, accordingly our pact with the Unionist Party (UP). The UP also started spreading its political propaganda in favor of deeper relations between Marina and the Roman Empire. If things go well, we may soon seal a military pact with Marina, as intended.
Kingdom of Aden
While the Black Army has ended the long war between Marina and Aden in the kingdom's favor, it also terrified the nobility, as even now the king plans to "severely punish" some incompetent Magnates who previously signed the Black Army unimportant, and at the same time lost battles time and again on the frontlines. The Magnates are also pissed off at the relation developing between Adena Riterherz (Princess of Aden) and Rihard Stelhart (Second Prince of Antaria), fearing that in due time Rihard would inherit the throne and establish a stable absolute monarchy. I've received news that royal court meetings are becoming more and more chaotic. Some Magnates even threaten with rebellion. Due to the political instability, the king is likely to agree to a peace with Marina until things are not set straight.
Empire of Antaria
Because of the latest recruiting, the Antarian army is back to full force, but due to negotiations between Antaria and Zerrikania, a temporary state of peace can be expected between those two countries. Antaria now focuses on the growing instability in Aden, and, thanks to the relation between Adena and Rihard (as mentioned above), it is likely that if civil war should break out, the Antarians will lend aid to the Adenian royal family in some way, but we can not foretell how much this would influence events.

Overall, I can say we can be satisfied with our current situation. I will keep you informed about the ongoing events.

For the Roman People and the Roman Emperor ! Hail Caesar !

- Legate Gaius Marius
Roman Empire, Brutaius city, 1224. Augustus 31.

23. Force of habit

Descendants of the great chiefs of old, my distant-brothers, champions of the Villianese Duchy !

Today we assembled in the Duke's Palace for a great event; the election of the new Duke is at hand ! Like in every third year, you or your chosen sons will draw arms and test yourselves, to see who is worthy of inheriting the Duke's throne, and have a word of law above the clans !

Look around, and say, what do you see ?

Around us we can see our fathers, our mothers, our sisters and our brothers.
We can see the line of our people, back to the beginning.
They are calling to us, to take our place among them.
In the halls of the Gods, where great men may live forever.


Now, cut your arms and spill your blood into this bowl.

Each of you will drink a bit of the blood. Let the bondage of the elders flow trough your veins !

Distant-brothers, honor was paid to our ancestors. Now the spirits take us back to the present.

From this day, you have one month and one day to prepare for the duels. For it will be the winner of all battles who will be the next Duke !

- Gamal Bone-hand, High Priest of the Old Gods (carrying out the Ceremony of Elders)
Villianese Duchy, Duke's Palace, 1224. September 1.

24. Religion teaches us... V. (Faithless)

Now, you better have a good explanation for what you said, young man ! "The Void will eat you !", huh ? We'll see about that. After all, if something doesn't exist, it can't eat anything, is that correct ?

You can blame me with blasphemy and heresy all day long, but see, I stand right here, right now, and nothing bad is happening. Maybe, after all, your prayers are in vain, hm ? Now pay attention. There are no gods, no spirits, no phantoms, only a lot of stupid, uneducated, superstitious folks ! Did anyone ever heard of people returning from the grave in real life ? No ! Did anyone actually see dragons ? No ! Forget about these fairy tales, and listen to the truth !

The truth is, only things with a proof of their existence can be considered existing. See this stick in my hand ? I see it, I feel it, I know what material is it made of, and I may as well crack your stubborn head with it if you keep disturbing my classes !

More and more facts are revealed about the so-called "legends" and "supernatural events". The fact that we can't explain things like lightning or the behavior of animals doesn't mean we won't reveal their true nature in due time. And time keeps going on, never backward. Thus, it is the sacred duty of scientists to enlighten people ! I wish I could have joined the Engineers... their magnificent machines always amaze me...

What were you saying ? Sciences don't keep moral values for future generations ? Why wouldn't they ?! If there is no next life, the moral is, we have to respect life even more than many of us do !

Ah, it's breaktime. But before you go, I'd advise you, young men, to think about this little conversation. Class dismissed !

- Poero Kazen, alchemy teacher of the University of Sciences
Republic of Marina, Arbun city, 1224. September 6.

25. Big changes, big mess

By the everlasting hunger of the Void, what did I do wrong to deserve such a fate ?

Each day, I wake up early, and work on the fields for long, long hours every day, sometimes even on celebration days, without whining, I respect my superiors, treat my family well, and always humbly worshiped the Void, the Void, which makes justice in life and death alike. But now I'm beginning to question everything I believed in and lived for.

As if it was a reward for my good work, his eminence, the Sultan, may his name and family be blessed forever, he eased our burdens. Our taxes are reduced, and we gained rights to buy and own land, and hire slaves for ourselves. True, our life is hard even under such generous circumstances, but at least I can build a better future for my children... or rather, I could, if the nobles would let me !

The clergy, the state officials, the Sipahi and the Immortals... ah, they are so enraged ! My own master, he was never a merciful person, but now, he is even more ruthless and violent ! Ah, why ? I never did anything bad to him, did I ?

And rumors are spreading in the land, strange, hideous rumors. Assassination attempts against the Sultan ! Execution of officials ! Constant arguing and conspiracies in the Sultan's palace ! Everything I knew is turning upside down ! Is this the world's end ?!

But oh, foolish me, who am I to say such things ? I'll go get some sleep, for one way or another, the work awaits me tomorrow.

- Kubal Al-Ziram, peasant of the Zerrikanian Sultanate
Zerrikanian Sultanate, Badza village, 1224. September 19.

26. Advertisement or propaganda ?

WHAT DOES THE UNIONIST PARTY (U.P.) STAND FOR ?

JUSTICE, EQUALITY, UNITY !

1. Reforms in agriculture and industry for increased efficiency.
2. Financial support and vindication program for the poor to help them assimilate to the working classes.
3. Expanded electing franchise, more rights for women.
4. Revisited tax system - the rich should pay more than the poor !
5. Equal rights for every inhabitant of Marina, regardless of sex, religion and social background.
6. Introduction of censorship for more ethical media.
7. Disbanding unreliable Mercenary, Landskcneht and Condotieri regiments.
8. Abolishment of conscription, introduction of regular army.
9. Extended trade pact and military pact with the Roman Empire.
10. Long-term plans for eventual union between the Republic of Marina and the Roman Empire.​

VOTE FOR THE U.P., VOTE FOR A BETTER FUTURE !

- (Advertisement poster of the Unionist Party, placed all around Marina prior to elections)
Republic of Marina, 1224. September

27. Honor, tradition, stupidity

Darn bloody Romans ! May the Gods damn them !

We come here to compete over the title of Duke, and what happens ? They bloody rush in ! The old Duke is not in charge anymore, and there isn't a new one yet, so according to our laws, the individual clans can't be forced to yield to unity ! Have these bastards no shame ?!

And the High Priests and Priestesses, what do they think ?! "One duel per day !" the bloody behind of my grandma' ! The competition will take over a bloody MONTH to finish this way ! Are they out of their minds !?

What should I do ?! My clan's territory is right next to the borderline ! I can't let them alone in this bloody hour of need ! But then I don't have any chance to be Duke ! ARRH !

FINE ! I don't give damn about this anymore ! My people are worth more ! Being Duke can wait three more bloody years ! Tomorrow, I'll take my horse and leave !

- Velot Brasd, Chief of the Brasd Clan
Villianese Dutchy, Duke's Domain, 1224. September 12.

28. Likely allies

So it began. Everyone knew this would happen sooner or later. But none of us wanted to actually see this happen: Aden is in a civil war.

Less then a week ago, over half of the Magnates decleared independency. Some to rule their little empires on their own, others to ally against the king and replace him with someone more fitting for their puppeteering schemes. The rest ? They either strengthened their ties with the royal family or went into a "neutral" state, not helping the king actively, but neither rebelling against him. The Black Army ? Their strength is unquestioned, so is their loyalty, but the king hesitates using them against his own people; it would just encourage more Magnates to turn their backs on him. Aden, as we know is, practically is about to cease to exist.

There is still hope, though. And this hope lies in my little bag. A letter to the king of Antaria.

A rather ironic twist of fate... I feel as if it was only yesterday since I was splitting their thick plates open with my blade, and now I received the honor to actually ask them for help. But I don't mind it, at all. I'm but a humble servant, who does what he is told. And, in fact, now that I'm finally on Antarian territory with my retinue, I'm beginning to discover they are, in fact, kindred spirits, sharing the same knightly morals like myself.

If what lady Adena told me about Rihard and Roland Stelhart are true, we can certainly rely on the Antarians. Soon, we will have order in our homeland once more.

- Lars Advard, Knight of the Kingdom of Aden
Empire of Antaria, Antares Province, 1224. October 9.

29. Meanwhile...

My dear journal,

Every day, a new discovery awaits me ! Oh, how wise I was to accept the traveling offer to Calradia ! It has already been 13 months since I left Marina... or was it 14 ? Ah, who cares ! This continent is magnificent ! Even after a year, the local people, their habits and beliefs continue to amaze me. Though it would be naive to say my travels are without danger, I was fortunate enough to befriend a strange but noble fellow, who - much to my suprise - could speak the "common language" which I usually used back at home when teaching at the university.

He calls himself Wanderer. "The" Wanderer. As his name suggests, he never settles, he travels from village to village, town to town, castle to castle. From what I've seen, he's rather well known and influential, despite not being a vassal to anyone, nor a full-time leader of any mercenary band. His entire character reminded me of an old legend about "the crownless king", a man who ruled the whole world, but his crown was stolen and he cannot rest until he finds it - even if it takes an eternity. Of course, I had abandoned believing in such childish tales long ago.

However, I must confess that the Wanderer keeps rather silent about his past, and talks to others in the local languages so I can't fully understand what they speak. And there isn't anything too interesting about the Wanderer at first look - save for his two-handed sword, which shines like silver, and can cut trough seemingly anything. A line of unknown writing covers the handle and the blade's edge. Such an artifact is not for commoners. Is he a nobleman fallen out of his king's grace ? I might never know. Nevertheless, I'm glad to have him by my side. He is always on journey, and I needed a local escort. Life is tricky, isn't it ?

Much to my sadness, Calradia is just as warlike as my home continent. The Swadians, Vaegirs, Nords, Rhodoks and Khergits are always in constant war for one reason or another. While journeying, I'm planning to spend more effort finding fellow scholars and delve into the reasons behind the conflicts. Furthermore, I hope that time will open the snare on my companion's mouth so he would tell his tale.

On the other hand, I wonder... what could be going on at home while I'm away ? The Calradians don't really bother about other continents, and save for a couple of men - like myself - people from foreign lands are a rare sight. I like being here, but I'd really like to hear word about my homeland.

Ah well. Time will tell. Sooner or later. Time will tell.

- Bernand Halap, historian of the University of Sciences
Kingdom of Rhodok, Yalen Castle, 1224. October 20.

30. The grand plan manifests

Marina... my beloved country... perhaps this is the last time I ever lay eyes upon it. Why ? Why didn't I realize this earlier ? Why couldn't I do anything about it ? WHY ?!

The reasons behind the events seem all clear...

First, the Black Army's victory over Marina. The Romans offer aid, which the Marinans accept. Due to their wide propaganda and effective stabilization of the country, the Unionist Party wins the elections. Shortly, Marina and Rome seal a military pact.

Meanwhile, the Romans take advantage of the traditional elections in Villian and rush the inhabitants, advancing at a steady rate. In Zerrikania, the clergy and the nobility, led by the Grand Military Officer, rises against the Sultan, who, surviving the assassination attempts, declares them as traitors, demanding their execution, resulting in massive civil war. The masses stand up for the Sultan, while the majority of the army stands by the nobility. What happens ? The Romans offer help to the Grand Military Officer, promising to raise him to the Zerrikanian throne, in exchange for returning the favor later. Next step ? Aden. A kingdom in distress, suffering from civil war as well. I bet the Romans made deals with some rebelling Magnates already. And then... Antaria.

If someone would have spoken with me about such things earlier, I would have laughed as if it was some stupid conspiracy theory. But this is REALITY. Yes, everything seems clearly now...

With puppet regimes and brute force, the Romans will become sole rulers of the continent soon. How ? How did this happen ?! A while ago, they couldn't deal with the Villianese alone ! And now... ARRH ! What's wrong with this world, for sanity's sake ?!

And I ? I despised the Romans and the Unionist Party, but accepted their presence. Even when they won the elections, I didn't suspect anything. Now we stand on the brink of dictatorship. And it's because of the ignorance of the members of the Grand Court !

"Go while you can. You MUST go !"

That's what my father says. But where could I go ?

At the docks, I've overheard some sailors talking about a land they called "Calradia". If I heard it well, they plan to set out with three large ships within a matter of days. Perhaps I'll give it a chance... I don't want to be around when the Romans rule all. Once I arrive to Calradia with my supporters, I'll settle down somewhere along the coast, so we can welcome further refugees. For there WILL be new refugees if my suspects come true...

- Felip Wolsen, Initiated Councilor of the Republic of Marina
Republic of Marina, Vetar Town, 1225. February 3.
 
31. When freedom slips away

A warm, salty breeze whistles among the sails, pushing our ships on towards the unknown. Calradia... what is it like ? Is it a heaven where we can start anew ? Or a hell where cold steel decides everything ? Despite earlier successful trading expeditions, that continent remains a distant land of fantasy in my eyes, until I step upon its shores. In either case, the clouds of imagination part before me as we get closer to our goal, and the smoke of sorrow grows behind me as I get further from Zerrikania.

But I could not stay. Not anymore.

The Grand Military Officer... Zekar Al-Raskan. I will not rest until that serpent's head will be upon a spike at the highest tower of the old palace. But that can wait. It must wait.

I'm very unlike my people. I am not a religious fanatic. Nor an iron-fisted tyrant who thinks only of himself. I was taught to rule with sanity and justice. That's what my father wanted. But now, he is dead... and without support, I can not stand up against the combined forces of the backstabbing Romans and Zekar's lackeys. Thus, I fled. With hundreds of my followers. And thousands more to follow eventually.

That was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. I'm certain of it. Especially after discovering that we are not alone. While sailing on the open water, sometimes we noticed ships with Marinan and Villianese flags. We did not get into each other's way... it was needless. The very knowledge that not only we bear the shame of retreat eases my burden.

Once we land on Calradia... who knows. People who share the same fate are tied together by their common desires.

Desire for a new hope.
Hope for a new chance.
A chance for vengeance.

Or so have I been taught. We'll see.

- Ibrahom Al-Zasid, Exiled Prince of the Zerrikanian Sultanate
Somewhere in the Great Ocean, 1225. April 13.

32. Kindred spirits

I couldn't believe it. And I still can't.

Kilnor's Dragons. The Black Army. Two rivaling mercenary guilds. Competing since decades. Shedding each other's blood without regret. Now they are working together as part of a last resort of Antarian resistance against the overwhelming Roman Imperial Legions.

Why does everything have to be so complicated ?!

Let's see how we got here... civil war in Aden. While the Antarians interfered on behalf of the Adenian royal family, the Romans and their newly-found allies, the Marinan Unionist Regular Army teamed up, persuaded some of the rebelling Magnates to join them, plus got some reinforcements from the new ruler of Zerrikania, Zekar Al-Raskan. With combined forces, they swept Aden away. Only a few still persistent Magnates keep control of their lands. The Adenian king dies, his daughter gets escorted into Antarian land. Now without employer, the Black Army simply quits the battles and offer their arms to the Antarians. Shameless bunch !

Worse yet, they were accepted. I was unsure what is worse: their company, or the Romans. By now, I came to my conclusion.

Yesterday was the first time our companies really met face-to-face with full force on each side... but not for battle. After all, according to our assignment from his majesty, King Segmund I. of Antaria, we're going to cooperate. It was a strange feeling. Faithless, coin-lusting criminals working alongside an ancestral, honorable army of warriors ? Unacceptable ! At least I thought so.

The leaders stepped forward to greet each other.

From Kilnor's Dragons, there were Siges Gain, Master of Arms; Elbar Goiv, Master of Eyes; Kast Berlir, Master of Banners; and Daniell de Sol, Master of the Dragon.
From the Black Army stepped forth Mogar Blasius, Raven of Iron; Kinisi Pal, Raven of Valor; Drekal Vald, Raven of Carnage; and Matias Corves, King of the Dead.

The first four, I know well: living embodiments of Antarian views of chivalry. The other four were subjects of horror stories whispered around campfires until now. Mogar was not much different from a lot of mercenary knights: scarred but proud face, strong in body and soul alike. He was the most social and eye-friendly for my sight. Kinisi was like a walking tower; he was not much smaller or foot than Mogar was on horseback. Immense muscles dominated every part of his body, and he wielded a massive two-handed sword and a wide board shields - each with one hand. Despite his friendly face, I would rather not face him as my opponent. Drekal, in comparison, was of small stature, but muscled nonetheless; his great, beak-like nose, dark eyes and constant, sadistic smile sent shivers down my spine, so I avoided seeing him as much as possible. Lastly, Matias Corves. A grim man in his late 30's, his left eye's space empty, right ear partially cut, a little finger missing from the left hand; if he would take off his plates, I'm sure that hundreds of wounds dot his body. If you look into his remaining eye, you embrace a tide of bitterness and hatred, as if he wished the whole world to crumble at his whim. Worse than any of his sub-commanders combined. I decided to stare into the empty air before me.

Daniell de Sol greeted Matias in an ancient Antarian dialect. Quite suprisingly, Matias responded without problem. Too bad I don't understand a word the spoke.

Cutting the long story shorter. After the commanders finished the small talk, we set up a common camp. We wanted a separate one, but Daniell insisted. I sat down by my lonely campfire at the very edge of the camp, trying to think things trough. While deep in though, my ale went missing. When I realized it and searched around, I noticed a great figure holding my jug in his hand. Of course I shouted at the guy, who stared right into my soul with his single eye. Matias Corves...

I though my miserable life came to an end.

"Calm down, boy. I'll pay you a new round."

Needlessly to say, I was about to piss myself. The deep, cold tone was like a promise of inevitable doom. I didn't care what he said, his voice itself was scary.

"Calm down, or I WILL kill you."

I did as he said, though it was hard.

"Tell me, boy... honestly... how do you see us ? What is the Black Army to you ?"

Unexpected question. "Honestly" ? If I was going to be honest, it would cost my head. I answered nevertheless: in my eyes, the Black Army is a gang of professional, honorless mass murderers who do anything for their employers in return of the clinging of denars.

"Then we are not so different after all. In truth, we are exactly like you, except we don't hide behind the cloak of knightly tales."

That was a hard hit. As wise men say, the truth hurts. But at that moment, my blood began to boil and I questioned him what makes he think he can speak such things about our company. Kilnor's Dragons are ancient, and unlike many guilds, we choose recruits with care: talented wanderers, second sons of nobles, veterans from the Antarian Army...

"My experience gives me the right to judge you. Look at those guys at the neighboring campfire: that young lad is a serf's son; he was recovered from a ravaged village. The bearded one was a blacksmith who was cheated by his wife; he killed the woman and his lover as well, then fled into our ranks. The gray-haired man is the last survivor of a former Villianese clan. The girl there is a runaway slave. Her pair is the only son of a poverished noble family. And so on, and so forth... each of them has his or her own tragedy. Some are lucky to be born rich or skilled. Other folks are not. But Death, Strife and War, the wise gardeners of the world, make no difference between rich and poor, noble or bastard. The Black Army is a gathering of people who have already died in soul once. And they pay back for their suffering by holding together and overcoming every obstacle, no matter what."

Silence fell upon us. I could not talk back. There was no way to argue with this reasoning. His words echoed in my head. People who have already died in soul once... now I see. That's why Matias Corves is the King of the Dead. But I wonder... what life did he live which brought him to his position ? I did not dare to ask. After a while, I cautiously inquired why he was telling me these things.

"I'm not sure myself. I just wanted to find a silent corner. This whole... cooperation thing is new to me as well. Guess I just had to talk out my mind to someone."

This answer - just like the whole speech - was in puzzling contrast with the terrifying stories floating around concerning this man's character.

"But you were wrong about one thing. We are not honorless. Our job is our honor. So as long as your king pays us, you can sleep in peace at night."

With that said, he left. After some time passed, I tossed away my troublesome thoughts and tried to sleep. Next day, I woke up with a jug of ale next to me.

I maintain my fears and worries about this cooperation. But on the other hand, I begin to think my prayers to The One were not in vain. Should the Romans decide to march against us, the most powerful mercenaries in the continent will await them.

- Loas Vellar, Scribe and Annalist of Kilnor's Dragons
Empire of Antaria, Redes Province, 1225. May 4.

33. Centurion Reports - III.

XLII. Report on the Continental Conquest Campaign, Antarian Region
To: Legate Gaius Marius

My greatly respected Legate,

While my fellow Centurions and me are doing our best, it seems our advance will come to a temporary staging point for the time being. The Antarians are making a desperate stand, and are fielding both Kilnor's Dragons and the Black Army. But that's not our only problem. As you may have heard from our colleges from the other four regions, mustering all of our main forces is becoming rather difficult.

In the Villianese Duchy, the natives, while losing their villages and every important fortifications still continue to bother us with raids. Meanwhile, in Marina the general public and the opposition parties are widely protesting against employing the new regular army in further campaigns and wish to cut down some ally ties with us. Stabilizing the situation for long terms will require getting rid of every political force beside the Unionist Party, and quelling potential revolts. Since we lack the forces to do so ourselves, the Marinan Unionist Regular Army must be redeployed for the purpose. This will reduce our anti-cavalry army branches drastically for the time being. Furthermore, Zekar Al-Raskan withdrew his soldiers to crack down peasant rebellions in his own territory. Last, but not least, after overthrowing the king, some of our Adenian "friends" felt that they don't need us anymore and broke our pacts, wishing to nurture their own little kingdoms. Such treachery deserves punishment, but for now we have to concentrate on establishing some order in our "allied" countries and round up the needed attack force against Antaria.

But in any case, I suspect the current situation favorable. Antaria holds firmly now, but in long terms its death sentence is already written. Soon, our glorious empire will rule this continent unchallenged.

For the Roman People and the Roman Emperor ! Hail Caesar !

- Centurion Pricus Renozus
Roman-Antarian frontline, 1225. May 27.

34. Foreigners...

Well, I'll be damned fer sure... when Lethwin Far-Seeker told me all those weird stories of a continent laying west to Calradia across the Great Ocean, I thought the lad just drank too much and made half of the stuff up. Turns out he was sane.

'Bout a week ago, a few ships landed on the shores near Feneda. I say, I never saw such ship designs before. Sturdy and fat, clearly not fer battle. And heck, I was right. 'Bout seven hundred fellas came out of 'em, ragged and starved. Some were fighters, but the majority just peasants and other poor folks. Not even worth of raidin'. I carefully approached 'em. Turns out they were "civilized" or whatever, cos' they didn't kill on sight. Too bad I don't know a damn word they said. But somehow I could tell 'em to follow me to our camp. I hoped Lethwin could talk with 'em. He's such an egg-head, it was about friggin' time he would actually do somethin' useful.

And heck, turned out he knew one of the fellas who came with me, a similarly egg-head lad named Felip Wolsen or somethin'. He fed him, then they talked for like freakin' four hours without pause. But finally Lethwin cared to enlighten us. The fellas are from a land called Marina, which "fell into the vile pit of dictatorship and deceiving propaganda" (heck, once I'll whack Lethwin in the skull, maybe that will make him speak normally), so the Felip guy and his lackeys stepped off, period. Now they want a piece of land for colony. Well, good luck for 'em. King Ragnar is not famous of generosity.

Ah yeah, Felip guy also mentioned "further refugees". Does this mean more ragged fellas ? Heck, comin' to Nord lands wasn't the brightest idea. If Lethwin wants them good he'll send 'em to the Rhodoks. He was plannin' to go to 'em anyway.

For now we gave the poor fellas some of our food and furs and help 'em cut wood for later use. Not much, but heck, we need some ourselves. Hope they won't stand with us for long, cos' I hate freeloaders.

- Bjor Axe-Hand, Warrior of the Kingdom of Nords
Kingdom of Nords, near Feneda castle, 1225. June 2.

35. The remnants prepare

Is this the end ? - I ask myself. The once overlooked Roman Empire is about to seize all we know.

The Villianese Duchy has fallen.
The Republic of Marina has fallen.
The Zerrikanian Sultanate has fallen.
The Kingdom of Aden has fallen.

It is only them and us now. Antaria, proud bastion of all that is good, just and holy, shall be soon besieged by the endless hordes of a power-hungry tyrant. But for now, the beast is gathering strength. It has no reason to hurry, confident in victory, whereas we need to call everyone to arms: old and young, men and women, noble and peasant, native and refugee. Every day, the walls of our castles and cities grow thicker, the smoke emulating from the furnaces and forges does not cease for a minute. And the king's treasury is emptying. Many offer their services voluntarily, but the people still need to wear clothes and eat. And the mercenaries don't work free of charge either.

The mercenaries. I spend my days working together with Daniell de Sol and Matias Corves, overlooking their cooperation. I never liked mercenaries, I deem them mostly unreliable, especially the Black Army. But I trust his majesty's judgement. Despite the initial difficulties, the two companies are beginning to get along. They train with each other every day and eat together. I've heard this was originally enforced, but now it's accepted. The two best mercenary companies in the continent working side-by-side. An army of 71.570 warriors, each of them professional soldiers. And the leaders are living legends on their own. Cruel legends, so to say. Drekal Vald and Elbar Goiv are already making plans how to crash the fighting spirit of the enemy armies.

Still, even if combined with the entire regular Antarian army - 243.000 men, divided all across the country - we would be barely able to match our opponents in the field, and such centralization would leave a lot of important cities nigh unguarded. And this cannot be allowed... I fear that in a matter of a year, Antaria will be just yet another country ascending to The One's realm.

The news I hear from his majesty's castle are proof that I'm not alone with this thought. Some even babble of evacuating the two princes and princess Adena abroad, to the distant realm of Calradia. Calradia... does it really exist ? I hope his majesty knows better than I.

I try to nurture my paling hope of victory, or at least dragging our sworn foes into the grave with us. Soon, very soon, the people of this land will bear witness to the day when the courage of the righteous faces the final test.

And I will be there, in the first line.

- Utron Quentar, Noble of the Empire of Antaria
Empire of Antaria, Redes Province, Gonesa city, 1225. June 16.

36. The future seems clear

Fear... chilling, crawling, creeping up and down on my entire body. By now, I have realized the truth behind the divine visions... or at least partly, I did... was this the great conflict I saw ? Yes, I'm sure of it. This is it. But its end is further than my thoughts could see.

My poor kinsmen, my poor village... why did it have to be so ? Oh ! Reckless Romans... and yet, they dare to call us barbarians ? But of course, the shackles of arrogance are hard to remove. But arrogance or not, they will consume this land with their ignorance soon... very soon. I have little hope for the poor like myself. Those who can afford it are already setting sail troughout the shores, to journey to a land far, far away. The Old Gods told me that is so.

Yes, the Old Gods... and yesterday night, they graced me with another vision, which I can hardly translate...

I saw a field of endless green, the sky above darker than black. A white castle stood upon a hill far away, ruined but still strong at its base. Then among two pillars of stone stood a great Raven, a green Dragon, and a host of skeletons. Against them came a massive wolf, so great that its fangs could reach the heavens if it willed so; and he took serpents, rats and pigs along with him. The wolf's slaves howled, squeaked and hissed angrily, then the wolf growled:

"Behold, the behemoth I am; the Gods tremble at my sight, so great is my might. You lowly scum, submit to my will, join me in the endless fight and fright that awaits. Else, be gone, lest you be trampled and crushed beneath my heel, scavenged by the slaves who obey my every whim. Heard me, vermins ? Oppose, and you are dead !"

The Dragon and Raven looked at each other, nodding. They have decided.

"The way is shut; we dead keep it."

My vision faded. When it cleared, the field was all red, and the sky rained blood. The Raven, the Dragon and the skeletons feasted upon their enemies. The wolf, wounded and beaten, fled, to seek a new way into the castle.

I saw everything so clearly... this means the vision will come true soon. But as an old wreck I am, it's still so hard to translate it... What could it mean...?

- Goud, the Forgotten Seer
Empire of Antaria, Antares Province, Sevlir village, 1225. July 5.

37. Mess with the best, screw up like the rest

Man, I can't stand this humiliation anymore ! I'm a mercenary, figthin' for money, that's my profession, but this just goes too far !

Everything began so well ! The Romans are becoming the bosses, but Antaria refuses. So me and the mates thought that for the sake of change we'd fight for the winnin' side. We aren't a big band, but we had luck, we got hired. Plus the Romans had allies from Marina, Zerrikania and even some from Aden, and of course, a lot of smaller mercenary companies. A large chuck of Antaria is already theirs.

Antaria's weaker provinces, Redes and Jarnas are nearly defeated, but the big cities of Antares stand like freakin' mountains. It takes a hella' lot of men and several months to take one of 'em. To hasten up the process, the Roman Legate concentrated his forces towards the Antarian capital city, Solreas. The way to it leads across the Redes Plains, allowing three possible entry points, two of which are being blocked by castles and outposts. They are already under siege, but the bosses don't wanna' waste no time on those, so we go straight trough the middle, which is nearly unguarded - only a few villages stand in the way. Our army counted over 100.000 men, plus two more armies of similar size following behind. Solreas if massive man, three times bigger than any fortress you could dream of, and the rivers and mountains make attack from behind or from the sides near impossible. But it can't stand against 300.000 men from 4 different countries, now can it ? Of course it can't !

...Man, what could have went wrong ?

Then word came that the Black Army and Kilnor's Dragons block the road. Those scum, thinkin' they are so tough ! I wanted to pay 'em back for stealin' all the good jobs from the lesser gangs. Too bad it turned out they were really that tough.

So then man, we formed up on the field, staring at each other. A Centurion rode forward, shoutin' stuff about submission or gettin' violent. I preferred the second. Too bad the enemy thought so as well. Two metallic guys, one clad in green and the other in black (later turned out to be Daniell de Sol and Matias Corves) rode forward, up to the Centurion, stopped, then the green guy yelled loud (shortly followed after by the black guy) so the majority could hear it:

"Your bravado is empty, servants of Rome; we heed your compliments and offers, but alas, due to honor we have no intention of stepping aside. I recommend thee to make peace with your Gods, for if you don't turn back, you are all going to perish by our hands ! Mark my words, enemies; you have been warned !"
"You morons stand there like you already own the place, but here upon this ragged patch of earth, your power of corruption and ignorance will be shattered like glass by a hammer. Your rotten filth has gone unchallenged long enough ! You want Antaria ? I don't give a damn ! But before the Black Army leaves this land, you will know the meaning of WAR !"

Ha, big talk ! Who cares ? Seems the Centurion did, cos' he got pissed and waved his sword at the black guy. Guess what ? The guy freakin' caught the blade with one hand ! Okay, he had steel gauntlets, but still ! Then he drew his own sword, and bloody cleaved both the Centurion and his horse in half ! After that scene, I knew I was on the wrong side of the battlefield again. Man, what did I do to deserve this ?

We've been here for two weeks already. We got the bigger numbers, and yet, we can't do anythin' ! Gettin' around ? Fail ! Their riders are everywhere and ride us over ! Frontal assault ? EPIC FAIL, man ! Whatever we throw at 'em, they throw back thrice as hard ! And every freakin' day, they figure out somethin' to annoy us !

The night before yesterday, some of 'em rode close enough to our camp to yell in: "Hear us, rabble ? Start digging your graves !"; "Man makes its own fate ! Get lost or die, you choose !"; "Your skulls will make nice trophies !"...
Yesterday, they painted writings on their shields in common language, the closer we marched, the clearer the writing were: "Hope you paid the funeral expenses in advance."; "Listen to your heart - before I carve it out."; "It's too late to run, but you can try..."; "Commit suicide, free of charge !"; "Alcohol kills; so do I."; "If you can read this, you're within shooting range."; "In the name of peace, we'll kick your asses."...
Today ? I don't even wanna' get outside my tent ! I had my fill, man ! Maybe I'll just go over and ask them if we could join...

- Ydde Frizt, mercenary soldier
Redes Province, Roman-Antarian frontline, 1225. August 20.

38. Succession guaranteed

This is not good. After the treasury ran almost empty, the Black Army signed off and decided to sail away to Calradia, like many refugees. When my father - king of Antaria - didn't give permission for them to use the docks, they simply marched trough the Roman frontline, into the nearest (formerly Adenian) shipyard. A Legion tried to stop them, but it failed miserably. I can't blame the Black Army for this... this desertion, though. After all, they are mercenaries. If they don't get the payment, they don't fight. Still, until they left they did their best to buy Antaria some time, and even afterwards they didn't turn on us, but rather crushed their way trough the enemy land to get their own ships. Nevertheless, with their departure even the slightest hope of long-term survival slipped off from our hands.

But, does the survival of a nation depend on the land ? No, father says; it depends on the people. As long as a group people recognize themselves as one nation and remember who and what they are, there is hope for them.

As such, every single ship capable of crossing the distance between our homeland and Calradia are being filled with people: young men and women, children, and lastly, hardened soldiers. The fresh recruits and the elderly and sick remain here. Our hearts are heavy with grief already, but as I stated, our very existence depends on this. The Romans don't bother yet with building watery blockades; we have to use this to our advantage, and start anew in that far away land. Sadly, I will not live long enough to witness the foundation of a new kingdom; father is ill, his death is close. Should he perish, I must take his place.

Accordingly, our father wishes Rihard and princess Adena to lead their people to the other continent. But I must remain here, honor and law dictates so. Should I fall in the battle against the enemy, I will watch over my people from The One's realm.

Rihard and Adena... farewell.

- Roland Stelhart, First Prince of the Empire of Antaria
Empire of Antaria, Antares Province, Solreas city, 1225. November 7.

39. Heroic last stand

Antaria. Antares Province. Solreas capitol city. 1226. March 15.

The end has come.

Roland Stelhart sat firmly upon the great white marble throne. His father sat upon it before him, and he knew he'd follow him soon to the next world. He didn't sweat or shake from fear; the calmness of inevitable fate danced around the gigantic hall. Roland whispered his last prayer to The One; for he knew this day was his last.

The massive hall was no other than the throne room of the Antarian kings, so great it could shelter hundreds of men. The tall stone pillars, beautiful statues, heraldic shields and flags of old times all stood as everlasting symbols of the Empire of Antaria. But the eternity ends this day. Soon, this hall would be the last battlefield against the Romans and their lackeys.

As if fate wished to prove so, a soldier rushed in; his right hand was missing and an arrow was struck in his right shoulder, but in the current situation those were the least of his worries.

- My liege, the enemy has breached trough the innermost walls ! We've withdrawn to the castle's outer halls as ordered, but I doubt we can hold them off for too long !
- I see.
- My liege... - the soldier said, trying to hold his tears back. - We can't win ! I beg of you, use the secret passage and get our of here ! If you survive-
- IT IS ALREADY DECIDED. - his calm, but strict voice echoed trough the throne room. - This land is already theirs. As such, lengthening my life is pointless. The burden of survival was entrusted to Rihard and princess Adena. It is their responsibility.
- But-
- ENOUGH. Now depart and do your duty. I must fulfill mine.
- ...yes my liege.

The soldier slightly bowed and left, the guards sealed the door behind him tightly. Roland looked over his companions: the king's personal Honor Guard, the whole empire's finest Paladins, Trained Javelinmen and Elite Infantry. Roughly 50-60 people. Every one of them ready to die. Not for glory or faith, but to take as many foes as they can into the grave with them. The young king drew his finger along his sword's edge. The two-handed sword he held was a masterpiece, richly decorated, shining, thin yet near able to cut solid steel, any blacksmith would be proud of it. It was a long time ago since it saw battle, though. Such an artifact deserves usage during special occasions. This time was one such event. And the plate mail he wore, the Behemoth's Armor... no-one remembered anymore where it came from, or how it was made, but it was in the royal family's possession since ancient times. Rust never marred it, fire could not melt it; light as a chainmail, but strong as the stones from which Solreas was built. Roland felt a bit uncomfortable in the armor, however: it was made for humans of stature slightly taller than his. But somehow he managed to keep control while inside. He practiced wearing the armor for several years, but he never thought he'd be enforced to actually make use of it. But it doesn't matter now.

Within half an hour, the sounds of battle filled the inside of the castle. They lasted for another half an hour. Then, soon afterwards, the great doors were battered. The royal guards have drawn arms, ready for everything.

- They are coming...
- Let them come.

From the other side, a heavy portable ram slammed against the fortified oak gate. A Centurion dictated.

- One ! Two ! One ! Two ! One...

CRASH !

The gates opened, the ram was dropped. Swords hissed from their sheets, but the Centurion raised his hand.

- Legionaries, stop !

He walked in. Young for an officer, merely past his twenty-fifth winter at best, but his expensive armor clearly showed that it wasn't his muscles, but his social status which brought him to this rank. A sly grin ran trough his freshly-shaved face. Roland stood up and grabbed his sword's handle with both hands, raising it to the height of his heart. Some Roman soldiers stepped backwards. Indeed, the young king was rather intimidating, a living steel statue. But the enemy leader didn't bother with such details.

- Prince-
- KING.
- Oh my, "king" Roland the First-
- ROLAND THE THIRD.
- Whoops, my bad. I'll pay attention to the history teacher next time. Now then, "his majesty", is there really a need for us to get all violent ? War, why, it is but policy... doesn't mean the ruling classes couldn't get along, now does it ?
- What are you implying, peon ?

The grin turned into a vile grimace for a moment. Roland's pride, even in the verge of death, annoyed the Centurion.

- Rome belongs to the Romans, Antaria belongs to the Antarians. - he spoke with an irritating tone. - The local sheep must be nurtured by their own shepherd, isn't that correct ? Our emperor, Janus Konstantinus, in all his wisdom and mercy, does not wish your death if it's not necessary. Come now, I'm sure you kingly folks can come to an agreement. It is for the benefit of both countries. Think about it, "your majesty" ! For your empire... for your people... a king has to act for the sake of his subjects, is that not correct ? Or would you prefer if everything your family has built over the ages, and all hope you ever nurtured for the future... would fall apart like a house without foundation ?

For the first time during the day, Roland shook. He didn't expect such an offer after all they've done to resist the Roman Empire. Bastards...! They don't even let him to die honorably ? Spineless rabble ! The Centurions words lingered in his mind.

For your empire... for your people...

If he does as the Romans dictate... yes, his people would survive... but the cost... giving up tradition, faith and honor, the entire nation of proud Antaria becoming a mere pawn...

He thought of his brother, Rihard... princess Adena... the thousands who set sail...

NO.

Roland took some steps ahead, slowly, one after the another. His gauntleted hands were sweaty. He stood before the jerky Roman leader.

- So ?
- I have a message for your emperor...
- Which is...?
- ANTARIA NEVER FALLS !

The long blade rose and fell, vertically cleaving the Centurion's entire body, clothing and armor into two bloody pieces. The split person fell to the floor, spilling blood over the carpet which led to the throne.

- GUARDS, PROTECT THE THRONE !

The two forces engaged, dozens against hundreds. Javelins, arrows and bolts flew, swords clashed, shields bashed, boots trampled. Roland charged right into the thick of the fray, violently attacking everyone and everything around him. Arms cut off, teeth gnashed, blades broken, bones cracking, skulls spit open - he didn't care about knightly fighting; he has lost himself completely to the madness of the battle, swimming in the whirlpool of howls and cries.

He didn't know how and why, but after a long while, Roland found himself laying on the floor, and everything was silent.

The blood flowing into his eye slightly blinded him; he took off the helmet and blurred his face, then - for the sake of security - he took up the helmet again. Afterwards, he looked around. Two hundred corpses... or three hundred ? Then he checked his own body. The Behemoth Armor was scratched and bashed, but it stayed in one piece, protecting him. No mortal wounds. His sword, however, was bent and chipped, useless. A good smith could reforge it, but it was rather unlikely to find one such person nearby. Exhausted, Roland slowly stood up, crawling back to the throne, placing the sword there. Then he searched the corpses for another weapon. He finally took up the sword of a Honor Guard. That should do for his final moments.

Among the fallen bodies, Roland stood like the pillars of the throne room.

It won't last long... just a little more and I'll ascend to the next world, like a true warrior should.

The minutes passed, but he didn't move anywhere. He waited. He had the time. Finally, he heard steps... a small group is closing in. Finally ! He grabbed the sword firmly. Then the intruders entered. Six Triarii, a Centurion, and a black robed figure, his face hidden beneath a dark hood. The first seven persons all had to catch their breath from the terrifying slaughter. But the robed figure didn't give a damn about it; he stared into Roland's eyes from below his hood.

- I have to congratulate you for this hard effort young king, but in the end, it's all the same. This land and all of its peoples are under our control, no matter if you are alive or dead.
- I know this well, but mark my words: a sword can be broken, an armor can be shattered, but destroying our spirit is beyond your power. If I have the choice, then I die with pride, knowing I've fulfilled my duty.
- Nothing lasts forever young king, not even the national spirit you speak of. But if you prefer knightly death over miserable life... very well, then.

Roland steeled himself, but unlike he expected, it was not the Romans who attacked, but the dark stranger. He waved towards him with a bare hand; seeing this, Roland slashed forward by instinct. Metal clacked, the blade shattered. Not believing his eyes, the young king stared at the remnants of his weapon, but almost immediately thereafter he felt a great punch at his stomach; the stranger's hands were harder than rock, the Behemoth Armor barely withstood the pressure. Roland lost balance, falling backward. With a lightning swift movement, the stranger appeared right in front of Roland, grabbing into the Behemoth Armor's chest plate with his fingers, ripping off a piece of it with ease, then grabbing Roland's neck with his right hand. Roland got paralyzed by awe, looking straight beneath the hood. Scarred, grim face, bald head... and his right eye...

Metallic eye...

The hooded figure then noticed the sword laid on the throne.

- That's sad... I wish the royal sword and your body were in a good shape, I'd have enjoyed this game a little longer. Ah well.

The stranger's left arm went trough the freshly made hole in the armor. Roland howled like a tortured animal, feeling the hand tore into his flesh, trough his arteries and organs, grabbing something...

With a quick move, the stranger ripped the young king's heart out. The body, losing its source of strength, collapsed.

- Centurion !
- Ye- yes !
- You and your men may not tell anyone what you saw this day. Just say Roland fell in battle. That. Is. All.
- I... understand.
- Good. Well then... the ruler of Antaria, from this day, will be the Roman Empire !

40. The beginning ends

It is done. While some events caught us off-guard, we've managed to carry out the first phase with success.

The foundation is laid. Now the erection of the walls begins. It will take time. But we have time.

Hail to the master !

"Metaye"
- ???, ???
 
41. New people, new problems

To: "King-in-yellow"

My liege, as ordered my comrades and me have continued observation of the Nord and Vaegir shores, and the events we witness are rather concerning. For the last few weeks, enormous transport ships and galleys have arrived on an almost daily frequency and presumably they will keep coming for a while. Hundreds, or rather, thousands of people have taken a foothold along the coastal areas. I made sure that our agents were able to make contact with them, and the reports I received so far just make things even more complicated.

I'm not even sure how I should begin, but I'll try to sum up the matter:

- The people who arrived are indeed from an other continent, but are NOT a unified invasion force. Roughly one or two tenth of the newcomers are actual soldiers, the rest are peasants, workers and artisans, both men and women of all ages.
- These men are NOT from one single country. From what I came to know, they come from 4-5 different countries, and one of them we have clearly identified: the Republic of Marina, about which we've heard from Lethwin Far-Seeker earlier. As for the rest, I still need to gather information, but the process is slow due to verbal difficulties, and the fact that some of the newcomers, while ragged and weak, still preferred a shoot-first-ask-later policy over a sane conversation. Nevertheless, here's a list of the military nature of these new folks and their landing points:
1. Republic of Marina - they were the first to arrive, almost a year ago. Relies on disciplined formations of polearm-using medium infantry and heavy crossbowmen; originally landed near Feneda where they established a small settlement which by now had been destructed by the Nords. Since then they've migrated into Rhodok territory and seek vassalage from King Graveth.
2. (Unidentified nation) - though they appeared at large scale only two months ago, according to our agents several hundred of them arrived months earlier, but failed to stay together. A people with many horse archers and light infantry, including slave troops. They somewhat reminded me of the Khergits in fighting style, but have different culture and religion altogether. The majority landed north of Rivacheg, and their leader, a young man named Ibrahom Al-Zasid initiated an audience with King Yaroglek of the Vaegirs. Or at least so say the rumors. As I stated, none of the newcomers came with hostile intentions, so I presume that Ibrahom Al-Zasid will offer vassalage to Yaroglek in return of land and protection. We shall see.
3. (Unidentified nation) - they arrived a bit earlier than the "second wave" of the horse-riders. Ruthless warriors with mostly leathery or chainmail armor, mainly bowmen and swordsmen with great shields. Much like the Nords in a sense, but more sophisticated in the art of war. They landed at the river-delta north of Kulum and openly engaged the local Nords, looting caravans and small villages for food and goods. How long they will be there, and how will they endure the Nords' revenge, I do not know yet.
4. (Unidentified nation/s) - these men were the last to arrive, about a week day ago. A very mixed force consisting of everything ranging from light infantry and scout cavalry to heavily armored knights and fully-plated veterans. They seem to be aligned, but their heraldry is very different. I'm not sure if they are from two different countries which are allied with each other, or if they are one country led by nobles with a varying fashion sense. They landed about a dozen miles east of Tihr and hastily set up a massive camp. We have yet to witness their intentions.
- It also seems likely that some massive cataclysm had to occur on that other continent which drove several different nations towards Calradia simultaneously. What that cataclysm exactly was, I can barely patch together from rumors and half-truths, but essentially, one single faction became dominant over all their countries, rapidly conquering, but not caring about maintaining a fleet necessary to cut off watery travelers fleeing away. So the refugees decided to set sail towards here, Calradia.

Getting the picture together won't be an easy task my liege, but we'll do our best. I shall keep you informed of any major event concerning the newcomers.

- Goldtongue
Kingdom of Vaegirs, 1226. May 3.

42. Gaining a foothold (legally) - I.

CONTRACT OF VASSALAGE
Between ruler and vassal​

I, King Graveth of the Kingdom of Rhodok, accept the refugees of Marina as my own subjects, and their leaders as my vassals; furthermore, I shall grant permission for the foundation of a fortified outpost north-east of Yalen, next to the Swadian border where the Marinan refugees may enter into my country, and one town and one village north-west of Yalen where these people may settle, under the control of a selected Governor. The Marinan immigrants are also granted certain authorities (listed on an enclosed letter).

As subjects and vassals, the people of Marina must keep themselves loyal to the following conditions:

1. They must pay taxes, the same wages as every other Rhodok citizen.
2. They must march to battle alongside Rhodok armies in times of war.
3. They must heed every law sanctified by the Rhodok king or the Rhodok Great Council except if acquittance is granted.
4. They, according to the Rhodok-Nord-Swadian Migration Pact, must pay a wage of 100 Denars from the newly-founded Marinan Common Treasury to the Rhodok Great Treasury after each newcoming Marinan refugee as an insurance of safe travel between the countries.
5. They, while allowed to choose most of their own representatives and officials, must acknowledge that the Marinan Governor is always selected by the Rhodok King, and the Governor is a vassal of the Kingdom of Rhodok.

Hereby I made my offer and promise to keep myself loyal to the contract if it is accepted:
- King Graveth, rightful King of the Kingdom of Rhodok
(Kingdom of Rhodok, Jelkala city, 1226. May 21.)

Hereby we, the representatives of the Marinan immigrants and the newly found Marinan Government agree on the conditions and swear loyalty to the Kingdom of Rhodoks:
- Felip Wolsen, newly chosen Marinan Governor
- Udmend Jakob, newly elected Marinan Official of War Efforts
- Adverd Vilsac, newly elected Marinan Official of Financial Cases
(Kingdom of Rhodok, Yalen city, 1226. May 28.)

43. Gaining a foothold (illegally) - I.

Case: 2. Report on the Campaign of New Beginning
To: His Majesty Rihard I. of Antaria and Her Majesty Adena I. of Aden

My Liege and my Lady,

By the time this letter reaches you, our men stand triumphant over the locals, the so-called Nords, ensuring our further advancement into the heartlands. However, I fear our serial victories so far are going to be short-lived: the further we progress, the more organized and numerous their warbands are. I believe our presence finally caught the eye of the local ruling class, and while they don't recognize us as a serious threat as of yet given by our relatively small numbers, it is possible that sooner or later we might find ourselves in a losing situation.

The Nords are savage and prideful, somewhat like the Villianese folks, but even more brutal, and use better weaponry with frightening skill. In close combat and archery, they can best most of the Adenians, and employ throwing weapons as well, not unlike the Antarian light infantry. Our actual losses are few, but many are wounded or crippled. The only things those gives us a real edge over them are the Antarian elite swordsmen and the Adenian heavy cavalry, soldiers who they can't match... yet.

Fortunately, we were able to capture several Nord warriors along with some... slave hunters, who cooperated with them. After some interrogation, we learned some valuable lessons about the local conditions. This newly gained knowledge might ensure our very survival:

Just south of the Nord territories, in the heartlands, lies the Kingdom of Swadia. Judging from their description, this country is somewhat similar to Aden in political and military manners, and often wages war against the Kingdom of Nords (and, on a sidenote, the Kingdom of Vaegir which lies far to the east, but that is not our concern right now). I believe we could use this to our advantage.

The problem is, accordingly to some maps we just got our hands on, we are barely past Kwyon village - meaning there's still a long way to go until we reach the southern Nord border, and even if we make contact with the Swadians, it is not guaranteed that they would welcome us with open arms, or if they do, we might be reduced to mere subjects to their politics.

Whatever you decide, my King and Queen, I strongly trust in your wisdom to guide our nations trough this dark age; I shall do my best to carry out your orders.

- Gabston Kollin, Grand Marshal of the Unified Army of Antaria and Aden
Kingdom of Nords, near Kwyon village, 1226. June 11.

44. Gaining a foothold (legally) - II.

By God's mercy, as if I didn't have enough problem already with the Swadians and the Khergits ! Now, all of sudden, out of seemingly nowhere, a growing number of foreign immigrants started disgracing my country with their presence ! I swear, at first I thought the Khergits cooperated with the Swadians and Nords to attack by the sea, because these... these people practice horse archery and raid attacks just like they do. But it would seem I was hasty to judge, as a young noblemen from their ranks soon sought an audience with me. I pondered myself of how to treat this event. Finally, curious to learn what was going on, I allowed him to enter.

The ambitious (I may say, arrogant) young man introduced himself as Ibrahom Al-Zasid, exiled ruler of a country called the Zerrikanian Sultanate, and declared himself responsible for the on-going raid attacks throughout my northern fiefs, wishing to apologize for being unable to hold his desperate subjects in check. I was unsure to have his head cut off for this speech, or show him mercy for his honesty. I decided in favor of the latter. For the next few days, I let him stay in the palace under certain conditions.

I came to learn that Ibrahom and his people fled from their country because a usurper seized the throne by the assistance of a second force, the Roman Empire, which eventually triumphed over all the other countries on their continent as well. He also stated they weren't the only ones to set sail. The reports from my faithful informers seem to support this statement, especially since one of the immigrant groups, the Marinans, gained vassalage from the Rhodoks.

Still, the question remained: what should I do with the Zerrikanians ? I would really like to hang some folks up for messing with my fiefs, but on the other hand, Ibrahom seems to acknowledge his people's current position.

Yes, perhaps that's the best answer. I'll ask him to punish the villains personally, with some of my men overseeing him in the process. If he does as I please, I'll consider about granting vassalage - after all, a king can always use some more subjects. The potential work- and military force the Zerrikanians could provide is too big to ignore, but they must submit first. Else, I will cleanse them from my kingdom, even if this means withdrawing men from the southern fiefs.

However, Ibrahom's answer was promising, to say the least:

"I will do what must be done."

I sure hope so he keeps his word. Both for his and his people's sake.

- King Yaroglek, rightful ruler of the Kingdom of Vaegir
Kingdom of Vaegirs, Rivacheg city, 1226. June 14.

45. Gaining a foothold (illegally) - II.

To: King Ragnar, great and almighty king of all the Nords

Hail o' majesty,

I be really sorry that I interrupt your daily work with this paper, but trouble be brewin' over poor my head, a big one, so big that it might concern you o' majesty.

Thing is, ye might heard of some weirdo sea raider folks who looted caravans recently. So, a while ago, they knocked on the door of Kulum. Since our boss be away at the Swadian frontier, I was chosen to oversee stuff. So they came, and we prepared to brawl and all. Heck, a guy stepped forth talking in some weird way. Dunno how we managed to understand each other, but we did, so it turns out the guy was named "Furgen Dogles, boss of the Dogles clan" or somethin' and wanted to challenge the boss for a duel, to take over Kulum with no blood spillin'. Well ya know, I told, the boss is whackin' the Swadians. After some yellin', I agreed to do it myself.

Problem is, I lost. So we moved out and settled next to Kulum, like if we were to siege and take stuff back, ya know. But turns out this Furgen guy was all right, cos' he allowed us to try once more. Next time I won. But next week they came again and I lost again. And so on and so forth. Me and the locals came to like these folks, callin' themselves the "Villianese". But trouble is, they started to gather in bigger numbers each time, and movin' in and out is becoming bothersome.

O' majesty, please, if you have the time, I beg ye, send some high men over to talk things trough, else when my boss comes he won't be happy... many thanks in advance:

- Jorunn Longhair, an ever-loyal Huskarl of the Kingdom of Nords
Kingdom of Nords, Kulum village, 1226. June 20.

46. Old rivals observed

To: Bronzetongue

My good servant,

I just got my hands on your latest report about those... "human monsters for hire", as you called them. Watching through the earlier reports from Goldtongue and Silvertongue, I find it very likely that they came from that "other continent", just like the rest of those new people. However, their numbers were too few to be really notable, until now that is.

Nevertheless, your writing roused the interest of the Invisible Master. It is not suprising that those two new mercenary groups, referred to as "the Black Army" and "Kilnor's Dragons", are better than average regular soldiers, but quelling almost 800 Heartland Campaigner rebels at Sehuzgda Pass in Swadia with only a handful of men, in their very own forestial hideout filled with traps, THAT is nearly inhuman indeed. The fact that you say that the meeting of the two mercenary groups was seemingly merely a coincidence, AND they didn't slaughter each other afterwards because of the possiblity of halving each other's wages is rather concerning.

Furthermore, I received a second letter about these groups from Irontongue. From what he came to know, these two groups were long-standing rivals of nearly legendary status in their own homeland, but lost many of their members for various reason so they try to gather strength for the time being.

I'm certain their latest action caught the eye of King Harlaus, but he is hesitant to employ them yet. Whatever he plans to do, the potential of these bands can't be left out of sight. We should get into contact with them as soon as possible, so send out a Messenger with a B-level job offer. We must see their capabilities firsthand.

- King-in-yellow
???, 1226. July 2.

47. The fated meeting

Kingdom of Swadia, Pravenus Woodlands, 1226. July 13.

A grim company of five people roamed through the lively forest. Four men and a young maid, all on foot. Except for the latter, they were all armed to the teeth, each in their own way. One of them towered high above his comrades, clad in chainmail from top to bottom, holding a massive pavise shield in his left and a two-handed claymore in his right hand. The second was almost a complete opposite, short of stature, but in fact, just as dangerous, or even worse than his giant companion. He had a set of sadistic daggers tied to his belt, and a shortened pike in hand with a gruesomely shaped head, clearly made for impaling. The third had the most pleasing appearance; average height, no exaggerated body features, scarred but proud face, clad in a lighter full plate armor, heart shield and sword in hand. An ideal mercenary knight. And the fourth...

Matias Corves looked strictly straightforward with his single eye. They should find their prey soon.

- THIS SUCKS ! - the short-statured men declared. - Why do we have to do this **** ? What are we, peasant wives who can't even hold a pitchfork correctly ?!
- Would you prefer if we would had stayed behind and do the dirty works for the Romans ? - the knightly man asked. - We can always send you back, Drekal...
- That's not my point, Mogar ! I just say, okay, new land, new asshats who don't know us, but dammit, we slaughtered thousands already and they still don't give a **** ?!? This is pissing me off !
- You can't expect every king to be so bright like the old man in Aden was. But I don't mind... - the giant added. - Just like old times, when we wiped out bands without the regulars aiding us, just for fun.
- I wish I could be just as empty-headed and simple-minded ! I honestly envy you, Kinisi !
- SILENCE. - and the three men closed their mouths. Matias turned around in his black plate mail armor, enlightening his companions: - Like it or not, it's business. We need the money, we need the fame, we need more troops, period. If I hear one more complaint, my sword won't stay in its sheath. You monkeys could follow Migera's example. - he pointed at the girl.
- Well, she's mute after all... - Drekal pointed out.
- That's exactly what I mean. Now shut up and advance ! We can't be too far from our opponents.

And so they continued walking. Matias himself found the situation pretty impersonating, but as the leader of the Black Army, he would rather rip out his own tongue than to admit this feeling. While they marched, he tried to remember what brought them to this position in the first place...

It all came back in sequence. After setting sail, they headed straight to this land, Calradia, but only a few days before reaching the shores, a massive storm caught them. Only devilish luck made sure that a single ship survived - with the elite of the Black Army on board. However, elite or not, a band of 86 men is too small to be considered significant. Even when they were assigned to wipe out those rebels in the mountains, they were supposed to work alongside other mercenaries - but Matias made sure to get the price solely for themselves... and Kilnor’s Dragons. God knows how they got there, but they were small in numbers as well. Recognizing the shared fate, the Raven Commanders agreed to let them live. It would be a big waste to kill people of their own caliber in such a pathetic way anyhow. Besides, who knows what the future holds ? Better to have good relations with old rivals.

Then he thought of the task ahead of them. Jobless mercenaries screwing up a caravan, needing punishment. Lowly job, but someone’s got to do it. Besides, they may earn a few new members from this rival gang. The Black Army was rather renowned for assimilating troops from enemy ranks into its own during its long history.

He took a short glimpse at the young girl. Migera was relatively new in the company, a healer dragged along by an Ironside as his new private *****, shortly before they left the Antarian frontline. Eventually they grew really attached, until the poor guy perished in battle. Since then, she was rather bitter, but stayed with the company nevertheless. And it’s good to have a nurse in the group, even if there’s just a simple swordplay in sight.

After a while, the noise of chit-chat and loud laughter was carried by the wind. The prey was in reach. The whole group knelt down and hid among the shrubbery, getting in range slowly but surely. Not because they feared of being discovered, but because they liked to cause naughy suprises and watch the humorously pathetic reaction of their foes. From a distance, they carefully scanned their unfortunate would-be victims. Roughly 50 men, mostly clad in studded leather armor and a few in chainmail ones. Their most common weapons were spiked maces, plus-minus a couple of crossbows. Their shields and helms, on the other hand, were rather varied, but nothing exceptional.

- Simple. We just send Kinisi in and it’s pretty much finished.
- Too easy for my taste ! - Drekal murmured. - I want to rip at least a couple of ‘em apart ! Good way of giving out the stress.
- We’ll see. - Matias concluded, then increased the strength of his voice: - Hey fine gentlemen, how about you give a seat for some trespassers ?

The mercenaries all raised their head towards the shrubbery.

- Who’s there ?!
- Four mass murderers and a girl. Nothing special, really.

The men grabbed their weapons.

- Show yourselves !

The companions stood up and stepped forth. The mercenaries took a few steps backwards at the sight of them.

- What do you guys want here ?! Are you spies ? Answer !
- Some noblemen paid your funeral expenses in advance, all we need is the corpses. So we’re here to collect them, at least if you’re not willing to put down your arms and give up at once.

A moment of weird silence. Then the sound of laughing broke out.

- Why is always everyone so happy about dying ? I’ll never know. - Kinisi whispered.
- Neither me, Pal... - Mogar nodded.
- Hahaha... listen up yo’ *****es ! Let’s turn thing the other way around ! WE gonna’ bury YOU ! Except the slut, she could come handy during cold nights...

Matias pointed at Drekal, then at the swearing, bossy figure, then drew his finger before his neck. Drekal nodded with a grim grin. In a moment, a pair of throwing blades flew into the man’s eyes. While he shouted in agony, Drekal leaped forward, stabbed his spear to the ground, took out two more blades and within a few eyeblinks, spilled the inside of the man’s stomach to the ground, grabbed the spear, stabbed him up, swung the body around and hurled it away, impaling it on a wide tree branch. The birds around flew away in fright.

- ...and that’s what we do with people we don’t like. Any questions...?

The air filled with anxious silence, until:

- D- don’t just stand there ! It’s only 4 guys so we can win ! ATTACK !
- Tch, always going by the hard way. - Mogar sighted. - Kinisi, do your part.

A few bolt flied towards the companions, but Kinisi just held out his impossibly wide shield. No bolt harmed them. Then, still holding out his shield, he started to run forward, straight into the ranks of the charging mercenaries...

- There ! Stop hi-

The sentence was never finished, because the sheer force pressing the massive shield onward simply crushed the shouter’s bones, along with the bodies of 4 of his other comrades. Tossing them aside, a claymore came forth, impaling three men in a row. Kinisi stopped for a moment and kicked the corpses off his blade.

- WAIT, WAIT ! SPARE US ! WE’LL DO ANYTHING JUST HAVE MERCY !
- Stop then, men. - Matias commanded and walked forth, stopping before the human cattle rounded up in a small herd. - Say, worms, how long have you been in this business ?
- Five weeks... maybe six...
- Typical greenhorns. If things don’t go well at once they just run off and start acting like bandits until they earn more experience, better gear and then show up in a different part of the country with a new band name.
- Look man, we needed to eat and drink...
- Typical complaint.
- But-
- Shut up and listen. I’m running a mercenary gang myself, and I need recruits, lots of them, and I don’t care who they are as long as they obey what I say. Either that or a gruesome death, you choose.
- I prefer the first version !
- Me too !
- Me three !
- Me-
- Shut up, I get it. Now start packing your stuff. If anyone makes a single funny move, I’ll let my men at you again. Is. That. Clear ?
- SIR, YES, SIR !
- Good.
- Not so fast, blacky.

Just behind Matias, a shady figure was standing. Dark cloak, light leather garments made of expensive materials, and a black hood, under which a sly face hid, with a pair of glittering blue eyes, and a beard forming a circle around a smiling mouth. The stranger carried a two-handed sword on his back. Matias slowly turned around, his hand resting on the handle of his dreaded bastard sword. Drekal had some daggers ready, just in case.

- You are pretty skilled if I didn’t hear you coming until now. But who the heck are you anyway ?
- Someone who received the same job as you. What a coincidence, eh ?
- Sure it is. But we’re finished, so get lost.
- Sorry, but I have other plans. Their heads are mine for the taking.
- You didn’t come alone, I presume.
- Yes I did.
- Hm. Surely you got some balls. Shall we decide it by force then ?
- You took the words right out of my mouth.

The two men stared at each other for a while. Then...

- Hey, Wanderer ! Wait for me ! Wait for mee- OUCH !

Bernard Halap, former historian of the University of Sciences fell through a tree trunk, resulting in a bleeding nose.

- And who is this clown ?
- Just a poor fellow who sticks by my side so he can write historical crap.
- An annalist, I see.
- Ow, my poor head... - the old man covered his bleeding nose with a hand. Migera went there and comforted him. - Thanks, daughter... HOLY- !

He glared at Matias, shaking in his entire body.

- What’s the deal, old bone ? - the Wanderer asked.
- That armor and sword ! It can’t be...!
- Let’s just say, - Matias grinned - that if there’s anything I like about this land, it’s that my foes don’t run away screaming for dear life the very moment I approach them. Because they don’t know me yet.
- He’s Matia-
- Matias Corves, I know it already, thank you very much. - The Wanderer said. - Destroyer of Cities, Scourge of Mankind, Ravager of Armies, yadda yadda yadda.
- You seem pretty knowledgable for a local. - Matias noted. - But you also seem pretty confident despite your knowledge.
- In my younger days, I attented to a Marinan military university and heard much of your deeds. But I have no reason to fear. I’m not so famous, but a wise man like yourself knows well: the best warriors are never mentioned in history, only the best leaders.
- So you imply you are a better fighter ? I see. Would you share your name so I may carve it on your tombstone ?
- I doubt my name will be on that stone anytime soon. Just to set things staight, you’re about to face a Spellfist.

Spellfist ?

Matias grinned.

- You are starting to schorch my interest.
- Now just wait a moment ! - Drekal cutted in. - What the crap is a Spellfist ?
- You’ll see... if he’s speaking the truth. Kinisi, take him out.
- With pleasure.

Kinisi ran up to the stranger, raised his sword and sliced downwards. This strike would had been enough to slice an ox in half...

- Slow.
- Huh ?

The Wanderer was standing on the edge of Kinisi’s claymore. For a moment, Kinisi glared in awe, then swung his sword, forcing the Wanderer to jump off from it, but in the very next moment he leaped towards Kinisi, hitting his neck bare-handed from both sides. The great man wavered, taking a step backward. As a finishing move, the Wanderer delivered a roundhouse kick to Kinisi’s stomach. The giant fall to his back, unable to stand up.

- What the... - Drekal stared.
- Don’t worry, he’s just asleep. - Mogar calmed him. - I’ve seen this technique a few times before, except it usually didn’t work on Kinisi.
- Good thing your friend is such a musclebrain, and even armored. This strike was supposed to decapitate him.
- I know. - Matias declared. - I just wanted to see if you’re not a big-mouthed maggot. And I’m glad to see you aren’t ! It was a long time ago since I had someone worthy to match.
- I like this attitude. Tell you what... - the Wanderer took off his hood, revealing the face of a man of shoulderlength black hair, somewhere around the age of 30 - If you can force me to actually use my sword, then I’ll let you have those scumbags and the prize for yourself.
- I wish there would be more to compete over, but so be it.

Matias drew his bastard sword. Two-edged, sturdy blade of dark steel, cross-shaped golden handguard. A line of text was carved into a blade, in an unknown language. At the end of the handle, a small spike poked out, but for some reason it was covered by a little cap.

- This is Fateshaper.
- Nice name.
- W- wait, gentlemen ! - Bernard interfered. - Please friend, reconsider what you’re about to do ! It’s not worth the trouble, I mean-
- It’s worth it a thousand times over ! Just make sure to stay far away.
- Hey, who should we cheer for ? - one of the captured mercenaries asked.
- For the armored guy, I guess. - another answered. - At least he lets us live.
- Good point. KICK HIS ASS, ARMORED GUY !

Ignoring the cheering, the two men faced each other. Waiting that one of them would make the first move. After three minutes of silence, the Wanderer decided to take action and jumped towards the left side of Matias, who jumped to the right and swung his sword from left to right in a horizontal way. Just in time, because the Wanderer was already after him, but the swing kept him away.

Ha. Just as I thought. The guy can surely hit hard, but he needs to get close first.

The Wanderer was slightly faster than Matias, but he had the advantage of his sword's length. This way they played around for a minute.

- Don’t get too confident...

With that said, the Wanderer jumped high to the air, striking with his legs from above. Confused, Matias tried to block with his sword, which succeeded, but he fell to his back, while the Wanderer spinned backwards in the air, landed and leaped forward, assaulting the not-yet-recovered Matias with a series of punches, most of them aimed at the chest, pummeling it with elemental force. Matias withstood the pain, but was unable to respond properly - until finally he managed to grab the Wanderer’s right arm with his free hand, and taking the opportunity, he swung his opponent around and whacked him against a tree. He then released his opponent and raised the sword to strike, but the Wanderer rolled away in the last moment, got back to his feet and kicked Matias on his side, resulting in a part of the chest plate flying away. A swift leap, a hand held out, and blood was drawn. If it wasn’t for Matias’s devilish reflexes, the Wanderer’s fingers could have torn out a large piece of flesh along with the blood. In response, the blade was swung afterwards, cleaving a wound on the Wanderer’s back. Both men turned, and the two fighters yet again faced each other.

- I can see you haven’t even warmed up yet, „Wanderer”.
- You have a sharp eye, my dear advesary. Nonetheless, your abilities are indeed respectable.
- Perhaps you just simply grew lazy due to the lack of proper training material.
- Maybe. However, compared to you, I still have the upper hand.
- Not for long. - Matias took off the cap from the little spike on the sword handle, and literally stabbed it onto his fresh wound, held it there for a few moments, took it out and placed the cap back. - I’m about to go berserk on your ass, mongrel.

As if he wished to prove this statement, he shook in his entire body, from head to toe, his body parts seeming to start moving on their own into random positions. The Wanderer watched the process with interest.

- Hey Wanderer, - Mogar shouted - I advise you to start running.
- Why ?

In the next moment, Matias released an inhuman roar, so great that the entire forest shook for a moment. His single eye was red as blood, staring at his prey...

- Oh shi-

He couldn’t say more, because Matias jumped forward with crazed rage, swinging his sword like a bear swings its claws. The Wanderer barely evaded, and had his right shoulder sliced in the process. And he didn’t have time to rest anymore...

****, at this rate...!

He ran into the depths of the forest, with Matias following at his heels.

- Get yourselves together, men ! This is a show you don’t want to miss ! - Mogar commanded, making sure everyone followed the dueling warriors.

A bit futher away...

I had enough !

The Wanderer drew his sword.

What happened afterwards, only God knows - a human eye would be way to slow to see how the two swordsmen fenced. Slash after slash, blow after blow, trees falling apart, rocks shattering, the very ground beneath them quaking from the power that was unleashed. Until...

A massive horizontal slash. Metal met metal. The Wanderer lost the grip on his sword. Matias raised his blade, striking down...

...and the blade stopped.

Because the Wanderer stopped it with his bare hands in the air, a few centimeters before his head. From that point, none of them moved. The men found them in this very position, chatting:

- Well... seems I’ve lost. I had to draw my sword.
- Don’t blame yourself. No-one would expect a Spellsword as an opponent nowadays. But speaking of which, I doubt that a fighter of your caliber actually came for those lowly scum. Am I right ?
- Your lonely eye sees better than a thousand others. Yes, my real reason was... to meet your company and test you.
- So you’re going to hire us yourself to be soldiers for your boss or something of the sort ?
- Well... not exactly, but nevermind. First things first. Talents like you and your men deserve better jobs. I have the necessary influence to give you that.
- And the price ?
- Just one little thing: if I charge you with a task, make it first on your priority list.
- For how long ?
- Let’s say... 6 years ?
- Fair deal. But I have two more questions.
- Just say so.
- Your sword's name ?
- Godslayer.
- And yours ?
- ...fine.

The Wanderer leaned closer and whispered something to Matias’ ear.

The next morning, the two teams said farewell. The Black Army, with its freshly earned recruits, marched back to camp. The Wanderer and his companion, Bernand Halap, went to the opposite direction.

- Tell me, friend... - Bernand asked - What are Spellfists and Spellswords ? I don’t really understand them...
- In every form of armed and unarmed martial arts, there’s a level which is considered impossible to achieve by ordinary humans under normal circumstances, as if it was a form of magic. Those who still attain this level are called Spellfists, Spellswords or something along those lines, sorcerous warriors who are belived to have made a bargain with otherwordly powers to obtain their abilities.
- But... it’s not magic, is it ? Just a lot of training and a bit of talent, correct ?
- Who knows ? - a faint smile, and the Wanderer hid his face beneath the hood again.

48. Royal problems

Dear God, what a mess in the whole continent ! Swadia is lucky to be ruled by a king like myself, not that arrogant wench Isolla, otherwise it would fall apart right now !

This kingdom had more than enough trouble even before these... these immigrants showed up ! Fighting on two fronts, both againts the Nords and the Vaegirs was tiresome for my armies and a great burden for my subjects. And just when we were about to push them back, those Khergit cowards stabbed us in the back ! Haven't I arranged a peace treaty with them for four years ? Yes I did ! And they break it up before the end of the first year ! But of course, what could have I expected from those lowly nomads if not treachery ?

And then these strange peoples arrived. I must admit, it was a great relief that most of them arrived to Nord lands, so that bastard Ragnar has a hard time to settle things. The arrival of the so-called Zerrikanians was also a little blessing at first, but by now they joined Yaroglek's forces, fighting against my kingdom.

However, my hope that Swadia remains untouched by the migration waves was a naive idea. I didn't want to be part of this whole circus so I ordered my generals to get rid of any suspicious group claiming to be of non-Calradian origin. It worked well until recently one of my vassals, Lord Haringoth suffered a serious defeat at the hands of a regulated foreign army, though he was spared and was sent back with a letter:

"To: King Harlaus, great and respected ruler of the Kingdom of Swadia.

Great king of the Calradian Heartlands,

We, subjects of the Empire of Antares and the Kingdom of Aden, came from a land far away, driven away by an enemy of immense force called the Roman Empire. We come with the intention to start anew in these strange, rugged lands. We are aware of our current conditions, but we are also proud warrior nations, so heed our plea great king:

What we need is fertile, unused land, wide enough for the foundation of two cities. In return, we are willing to offer you valuable treasures of our homelands, which are, acordingly to several local jewellers, worth about 1.021.800 Denars in Calradian currency. In case this wouldn't prove to be adequate, please make notice of our battles against the Nords before coming to your lands, as well as the fact that we spared the life of your hotheaded but forever-loyal vassal, Lord Haringoth. Should you agree to this deal, we also offer, last, but not least, a military alliance against all your would-be foes, lasting for a decade. But should you refuse our wish, we shall take some of your weary and badly-guarded northern fiefs away by force, and you can add our names to the list of your enemies.

We eagerly await your messengers north of Suno city.

With deepest respect:
- Rihard Stelhart, prince-in-exile of the Empire of Antares
- Adena Riterherz, princess-in-exile of the Kingdom of Aden"


My head almost exploded from this impudent tone ! Who are they to speak with the greatest ruler of Calradia like this ?! However, after calming myself by watching the executions in the courtyard, I had to realize they had some pretty good reasons to back up their claim. My northern fiefs indeed grow lacking in manpower, and now with the Khergits ravaging the southern villages, some new allies would be useful in the long run. And when things are set right and they get annoying, I will simply erase them from my lands.

Oh, yes ! Swadia is indeed fortunate to be ruled by such a clever king ! Ha !

- King Harlaus, rightful ruler of the Kingdom of Swadia
Kingdom of Swadia, Praven city, 1226. July 20.

49. A people divided

To: King-in-yellow

Sire, as you ordered I carefully watched over the fate of the Villianese immigrants. So to say, unlike the the others they don't even attempt to stay together. The individual groups - "clans" - each walk their own path. With assistance from Lord Olaf and Lord Haeda, we made sure three clans - the Dogles, Hals and Kentura clans - would be allowed to stay in Nord territory, with the chiefs becoming vassals to King Ragnar. But the rest are pretty much scattered, some reduced to the size of mere warbands. They will go extinct relatively soon under such conditions, though the Gazt and Brasd clans still hold some hope. If you contact Silvertongue, he should be able to round up some support until they reach Khergit territory. While different in culture, the Khergits and the Villianese are very similar in religion and fighting spirit, so with a few skilled interpreters at hand, I'm sure we could persuade Sanjar to "adopt" them. Of course, I'm not in the position to decide if this would be worth the material cost. But apart from that, the survival of the Villianese - at least in short terms - is ensured. My work here is done.

- Irontongue
???, 1226. August 3.
 
50. Dreams come real...

Everything was blurry and unstable. Like in a dream. It wasn't suprising, because, after all, it was a dream. Or at least something of the sort.

In the middle of the endless, forever-changing abyss, a robed figure appeared. From top to toe, he wore all yellow, but the tone constantly changed. He took off his hood, revealing the face of an aging albino human: unnaturally pale skin, reddish eyes, white beard. In real life, this appearance would be rather grotesque, a mix of an ideal, wise and calm monk and that of an unholy demon. But in this realm, looks didn't matter.

- I came as you wished, old friend.
- Took you long enough.

A pair of glowing eyes looked back at the albino, larger than mountains, seeing through his whole being. But the yellow-robed figure felt no fear. He has been in this realm many times. He got used to it.

- Being hundreds of miles away, you should think of the different between time zones. - he smiled at the glowing eyes.
- So true. I wish there could be a way to keep you closer, but that would be too risky.
- Risky... eh... I lived for too long to bother about risks.
- Don't speak like this, Archibald. If I lose you, who will keep the administration running ? And more importantly, where could I find anyone who is at least half as intelligent and loyal as you ?
- Thanks for the worrying, but don't take it seriously. I don't plan dying until the next few decades.
- Good to hear. So... what have you brought this time ?
- The refugees all found their place in Calradia, but they won't be able to survive for long terms, maybe except for Marina. Take a look at my mind for the details.

The abyss growled. The eyes came closer, followed by an enormous body, that of a dragon, its scales shining in a million colors. The drake glared into the albino's head for a moment, then went back to the hollow shrouds where it came from.

- Hmpf. The current Calradian rulers are pretty devious when it came to playing chess with humans as pawns. Especially Harlaus. It was about time to teach a lesson. The overlooked refugees will leave a deep impact in these lands, mark my words.
- And how do you wish to accomplish that ?
- One word: money.
- You mean... mercenaries, right ?
- You know me really well.
- After all these years, it is no wonder. But where will you get that many professionals nowadays ?
- I have arranged everything. Remember those two I spoke of earlier ? Not to mention my foreign contacts... one way or another, it shall be done.
- Cunning as always. But I was wondering, why are you so concerned about the refugees ? You already spent a fortune enough to literally buy a smaller kingdom, just to ensure the future of a few thousand men. I highly doubt it's mere sympathy. Do you plan to divide this continent to even smaller bits ? What purpose would that serve ?
- Hahaha... after all we've been through, did your vision remain that narrow ?

The albino scratched his beard.

- Well, I still have my limits. Sadly.
- Guess that can't be helped, but don't despair. You will see my intentions in due time. And time, we have plenty. My plan has been shaped for many, many years, and I take care of every tiny detail.
- You said that many times, friend. Well, when that time comes, remember to hold up your end of the bargain.
- Indeed. You shall have what you asked for. Mwahahahaha...!

The whole plane of reality shook and turned upside down...

Archibald awoke in his bed. He sighted.

- September 1... time to start gathering data for the next report.

51. A favor

To: Matias Corves

Greetings o' King of the Dead. I've heard our combined efforts to revive the Black Army have not been in vain, for which I'm really glad - especially since it's time to start paying your debt.

As you may know, Harlaus actually gave some land to the Antarian and Adenian refugees - but the clever pig made sure to separate them: the Antarians were given land on the Sunus Plains, northwest of Suno, while the Adenians were settled on the Ohirimus Plains, east of Dhirim. I don't think you need too much effort to figure out his intentions. First, he divides the "invaders", then weakens them by making them fight his wars instead of him on the Nord and Vaegir borderlands. And then, when the time is right, makes them disappear. I don't know which is more pathetic, Harlaus' own lack of honor or Rihard and Adena's stupidity to agree to his terms.

In whichever case, make sure the bulk of the Black Army stays on the northern region of the Heartlands and help out the refugees, mainly the Adenians against whatever threatens them. I'm aware of your potential profit loss, so I'll be sending four months' worth of wage in advance to your newly founded guild office in Praven.

- The Wanderer
1226. September 9.

52. Identity problems

This cannot go on anymore. Though restoring order in King Yaroglek's lands made him accept my subjects as his own, I cannot stay idle and watch his attempts of assimilation without a word.

Does he think I am blind not to notice how Marina, Antaria, Aden and even the Villianese clans took their share of Calradian land, while we, the Zerrikanians are scattered all throughout tiny villages and minor warbands of the Vaegir Kingdom ?

I know well what he thinks. The first generation gets accustomed. The second learns the native language and culture by standard. And ultimately, the third or fourth generation completely forgets who and what they and their ancestors used to be.

I might sound too serious, but history proves my words. It doesn't take more than 100-150 years to wipe out a minority by means of peaceful assimilation. Because if the process is peaceful, and only enforced by the conditions, there is little resistance on the account of the minority. If I am to re-establish my rule with a host of faithful subjects, I must take a step now.

But not openly. King Yaroglek does not need to know my true colors. Let him live in the illusion of total control. But when the time is right, Zerrikania will be reborn.

- Ibrahom Al-Zasid, prince-in-exile of the Zerrikanian Sultanate
1226. November 11.

53. Expanding family

The day before today, great Fenrir appeared to me in my dreams. He stood at the top of Ravra Peak, and called his kin. I, of course, heeded his call. Soon, a Nord brother joined my side and we walked together. But just as we were to start climbing the mountainside, a second brother came to me as well. Someone neither of us knew before. He wielded shield, sword and bow, the latter being his most valued possession. I asked him where he came from and what is his purpose. He answered:

"From beyond the sea, heeding the call."

After I woke up, I immediately informed the Norn Council of my vision. Very soon, they came to an agreement that the second brother I saw were the refugees Ragnar accepted by his side. But disagreement started brewing as well. Are they brothers indeed ? Could Fenrir truly favor those folks ? They have not shown anything worthy of his attention. Or did they ?

As if Fenrir himself wanted to emphatise his intentions, a Nord herald arrived with word from King Ragnar. We are to bolster the Rhodok frontier - along with a group of the refugees, calling themselves the Hals Clan.

Old wolf, have you indeed given birth to a new cub ? I remain most curious.

- Feyra Snow-Whisker, Norn Mistress of the Jotnar Clan
Jotnar Clan territory, Knute settlement, 1226. November 21.

54. Uninvited guests

My dear journal,

Forget what I wrote last time, even when the Romans came I haven't trembled in fear like today !

We've been through many hardships with my dear Rihard. While he was initially shy, we really grew attached during the long voyage from home. If only we weren't in such a harsh and war-torn land, we could get married right away ! But he's right, as rulers we have responsibility for our subjects. But that cold-hearted fiend Harlaus, why did he have to divide us ?! Not fair ! I want to be by Rihard's side ! I feel so confused without him... I was never meant to rule in the first place... but now I'm alone with the Adenian survivors... supposedly to organize warbands against the Vaegirs... what am I supposed to do ?!

Luckily, Gabston Kollin, the Grand Marshal stayed with me, but he's still just a military leader, not a politician or an economic expert. I was wondering if anyone could enlighten me about how a queen should govern...

Then they came.

At first, I thought the castle was under attack, because I heard lots of shouting and clashing steel. Then a gigantic man rushed in with such a force that the door wardens were nearly squished. I was scared to death ! Then, to my greatest suprise, the giant knelt and introduced himself: Pal Kinisi, Raven of Valor of the Black Army.

He was followed by a more pleasant-looking man - Mogar Blasius - and a group of scholarly people.

"I apologise for the rude manners of my comrade, fair queen. Our time is short, our work is vast, so I shall speak with speed: we come in peace. Word reached our ears of your pact with Harlaus and his terms of the Adenians fighting against the Vaegirs. In the past, your noble father was a friend of ours, and while he lived, the soldiers of the Black Army were always the first among his subjects to offer their blood for Aden. We wish to revive this old alliance, by offering our arms, hearts and minds to your service. What is your answer, my queen ?"

I have to say, Mogar Blasius is a patient man, because for the next ten minutes, I could barely breath at all. When I finally regained my sanity, I had no choice but to be honest: I had little wealth left whatsoever, and while I appreciate their offer, I could not hope to afford it. Then Kinisi spoke:

"No payment necessary ma'am, we're paid by-"

Sadly, he couldn't finish the sentence because Mogar whacked him on the head. Afterwards, he explained that while their help is indeed not voluntary, I wouldn't have to worry about financial issues.

It is entirely clear that "someone" is taking care of their payment. But why ? Even more concerningly, the scholars, as it turned out, were sent by the same mysterious employer as well. I was happy because they are all accomplished professionals, they would make perfect advisors. But I still feel worried. I am very, very certain that I will have to pay a high price should I accept this suspiciously generous offer. I am not a sage, but I'm not a stupid little girl like some people think either !

Then I recognized an old tutor of mine among the scholars: Bernard Halap. When I was little, he would tell me fabulous tales about the past ages. It was boring history actually, but he presented it like a fairy tale. I liked it. But back to the present: he was still the same old teacher I knew, except his beard turned grey from brown. He told me he knows the employer in person and would tell me about him between four eyes. Of course, one can't be careful enough, so I'll have at least a few bodyguards with me. Also, I made arrangements that the soldiers of the Black Army may come inside only completely unarmed and unarmored. Nevertheless, my curiosity is taking the better of me.

Who is the employer ?
What are his motivations ?
And could my people profit from his interests ?
I must know !

- Adena Riterherz, Queen-in-exile of the Kingdom of Aden
Kingdom of Swadia, Adenagard Castle (under construction), 1226. December 3.

55. Democracy ? Yuck !

Even after over half a year, I still haven't gotten accustomed to my new office. "Governor of New Marina"...! I wish my father could see me. I don't know what is more ironic, the fact that we were forced to give up the democracy we Marinans were always so proud of for the sake of survival, or that I'm growing to realize that it wasn't such a grave matter, at all.

Yes, the old Grand Court would have probably banned me for eternity had I spoken such thoughts out loudly, but my new position allows me to witness, analyze and orchestrate events from an entirely new angle. I can now se clearly what was the problem with the Marinan system: it allowed way too much personal freedom. People with a broad sight tend to turn their back on their mother country, one way or another. And those who stand loyal to it lack the obedience necessary to maintain an efficient chain of command. The education of the lower classes who can barely make any use of what they learn, the election between parties of radically differing views, the month-long debates at the Grand Court... BAH ! If it wasn't for the economic development and, most importantly, the disciplined army, Marina would have collapsed long ago. Yes, the army, whose members are often considered dumb as rock - with a good reason, I might add - it was them who defended the country against all invading force. Too bad they couldn't protect Marina from itself.

Maybe the Romans were correct in long terms after all - a capable ruler, a load of accomplished experts who advise him, and masses of obedient subjects, that's all a country needs to make things fit. Of course, I cannot deny the achievements of the old Republic of Marina, nor do I want to abandon some of its noble ideals. However, maybe it was the will of Fate to bring me here to start anew. Perhaps the wind of change was due.

In any case, it is good to govern without opposition...

...except that King Graveth is still in a superior position. I'm not jealous or angry of him - after all, we made a contract, like merchants make a deal. But the taxes and his demands for more troops to bolster the fronts against the Nords and Khergits prove to be weary both for me and my people. If our "alliance" keeps up like this, there won't be much left of us by the time the next decade starts. What could I do to weaken his position, to ease his grasp over me ?

I remember Lethwin mentioning a man who is claimant to the Rhodok throne, calling himself "Lord Kastor of Veluca". Maybe I should investigate the matter a little...

- Felip Wolsen, Governor of New Marina
Kingdom of Rhodoks, Marinan dwelling territory, Sparrus city, 1227. January 28.

56. In unity lies strength

Damn that brother of mine, Sanjar... he ripped me off of my rightful heritage, and thinks he can repay me by appointing me in charge of the "allied forces" ?! Well, I think otherwise. But as of yet, I am in no position to oppose him.

I'm spending my days among the half-naked barbarians of the Elephant Guard, the undisciplined Villianese clansmen and the Black Khergits who are little better than ordinary steppe bandits, except more regulated and better equipped. If I wouldn't have some interpreters by my side, this pathetic excuse for an army would have fallen apart already ! Still, I have to remind myself that their services are invaluable to the Khergit Khanate.

We, Khergits are masters of mounted warfare. From the endless steppes and Vaega tundras to the hills and mountain passes of the Heartlands, there is no field of war that can bear the thundering horseshoes, waves of lances and volleys of arrows of the Khergit hordes. But thick-walled stone fortresses - now that's a different matter. Most of the time, we barely have the necessary siege equipment to get inside, and during an assault on the walls we cannot rely on our mounts. Our lack of heavy armor and wide shields is another severe issue. Taking this into consideration, it is no wonder the Khanate can devastate dozens of villages without sweating, but has problems capturing a single castle protected by a hundred or so men.

This is where the "allies" come in. The Elephant Guard, while primitive, possesses savage strength and mighty shields. And the Villianese are used to battle on foot as well, their archery skill surpassing even our own. And the Black Khergits are rather well-armored compared to the majority of the Khanate's forces. Without them, there couldn't be conquest.

I am considering if I would be able to use this fact to my advantage and turn them against Sanjar, but I have to take this stupid idea out of my mind. They are loyal to the Khanate which pays them, not me. Though one of the interpreters let me know that the Villianese warriors don't hold much love for Sanjar, given by the fact that they weren't given much tribal territory, and even so their males capable of military service are scattered throughout the Khanate, serving under various lesser Khans. Maybe I could earn their trust should I bring them together ?

Also, there is the case of Bhey Sukbathar, leader of the Serpent Host, the mercenary army consisting of Khergit traitors, fighting for the Rhodoks. I've heard he had more reason behind his treachery than material wealth.

Hm. What should my next step be...? For the time being, I'll have to put my ambitions on hold, as the Swadians have reinforced their southern borders to prepare for our assault. We shall see how well-prepared they really are.

- Dustum Khan, Chief of the Foreign Horde
Khergit Khanate, in a warcamp lying northwest of Ichamur, 1227. February 10.

57. Comrades

We live in strange times, so to say...

After we received word that refugees of Antaria established their own state here in Calradia, we sought out the young King Rihard Stelhart to offer him our swords and lives. He accepted, and so we were integrated into the regular army. This meant the end of Kilnor's Dragons as a separate mercenary company. But, as the wise say: "Human things are mortal, but true values are immortal." Our loyalty and honor towards the throne remained firm, and that's all that matters. While it was a harsh blow for some of the veterans to give up our individuality, it had to be so. By now, we've come to accept this state.

On another note, a reminder of the past knocked at our gates not so long ago. He also crashed it with an oversized warhammer when the gate sentry denied entry. Ah yes, my dear friend Matias Corves hasn't changed one bit. Fortunately I happened to be passing by so I could prevent him from from murdering the city guard. While we discussed manners, I came to know his primary concern here was no other than the young king. I escorted him to his majesty.

Oh, Matias Corves. Many people know your name, entire nations trembled from the mere mention of it. Even Rome, at the verge of its ultimate victory could not endure your gaze, and rather waited until you left. But very few know what sort of person lies beneath that black steel armor. Who are you ? Where did you come from ? Why do you do things the way you do them ?

To think that we used to be close comrades... I know this grim man better than anyone else in the world. And just because of this, I worry for King Rihard.

Speaking of which, let me continue the tale. I brought Matias before his majesty. I knew that trouble is afoot, since King Rihard considered the Black Army's departure at the hour of Antaria's greatest need the worst treachery in history. And Matias usually severely "disciplines" people for much smaller insults. Sadly enough, my expectations turned out to be true. The very moment Matias introduced himself, Rihard insisted on a duel to the death. I must admire his bravery, but also pity him for recklessness.

Fortunately, Matias went easy on him. No wonder though, he has his reasons. But the damage they did to the courtyard will be expensive. Nevertheless, Matias and Rihard had a short but amazing swordfight - I wouldn't have thought that the young king could keep up for more than 5 minutes. He lost of course, but as Matias said:

"Who would reign if I kill you ? Get stronger and try again later."

For the last few weeks, Rihard became nearly obsessed with the matter. Originally, Matias came to offer the assistance of the Black Army in fighting the Nords alongside the Antarians (with the financial cases being attended by a third party). That, Rihard accepted. But beyond that, he spends most of his free time practicing with Matias and listening to his "life lessons". There's a strong bond developing between them, that much I can see.

However, the reason behind Matias' actions remained an enigma, so when I caught him alone, I inquired why does he show so much care for Rihard.

"You should know better than anyone else."

Why, of course. His late majesty, father of Roland and Rihard Stelhart, asked us to take care of Rihard should we happen to meet in Calradia. But I wouldn't have thought Matias took it so seriously... could he...?

While I was buried in my thoughts, Rihard came, seeking him, asking for strategical advice in an upcoming battle against the Nords. I watched the two walk away, looking after them.

Ah, young king... if only you knew...!

Daniell de Sol, formerly Guild Master of Kilnor's Dragons, currently Captain of the Honor Guard of New Antaria
- New Antarian Empire, Vis Solreas city, 1227. February 16.

58. Military lessons - I. (Aden)

MILITARY HISTORY AND DEVELOPMENT OF WARFARE, SORTED BY LARGER NATIONS, A-Z​
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ADEN

Many historians agree that Aden can be considered the birthplace of heavy cavalry tactics on our home continent, however horse armors and new cavalry weapons were developed prior to the unification of Aden. We must be aware of the fact that originally the territory of Aden was divided into many small kingdoms and duchies, connected by common language and religious/cultural background. When the Empire of Antares conquered the area in 1099, the heirs and descendants of the Magnates who originally ruled did not approve of the reign of the Antarian royal family and eventually roused a rebellion, which ended with Adenian victory in 1107. To strengthen their unity in order to avoid another conquest in the future, the Magnates elected a king amongst themselves, thus establishing the Kingdom of Aden.

From military aspect, there are several specific reasons why the Adenians put so much emphasis on heavy cavalry:

- It was in one of the pro-kingdom duchies where the religion know as "Self Realization" was born, its members being freelancer knights mostly. It is worthy of notice that Adenian and Antarian views of chivalry are fairly similar, but given by cultural differences the Antarians see the ideal knight as a warrior who fights on foot, while in Aden the image of a mounted, plate-clad champion is more desirable. The fabled travels and noble deeds of the Boundless Knights helped to inspire many capable youngsters to put their time training for mounted combat rather than as foot troops.
- Unlike in Marina or Rome where large groups of soldiers wear regulated equipment, the Adenians (specifically the Magnates themselves) preferred to have warbands of relatively small size but reliable armament; it was more favorable for a nobleman to have a retinue of skilled, well-equipped and completely loyal squires and knights than masses of peasants who have little, if any, understanding of proper tactics and get butchered and looted should the battle be lost, all money on their equipment spent in vain. Furthermore, peasant rebellions weren't a rare sight in that time so this way the Magnates also prevented the peasantry from acquiring too much military equipment. Even nowadays, low-ranking footmen in Adenian armies hardly bear anything better than some chainmail armors here and there.
- During the revolution against the Empire of Antaria, employing heavy cavalry supported by archers from afar was the only method of successfully winning several battles in a row. Since Antaria had small numbers of ranged troops and their infantry hasn't developed countermeasures against massed cavalry charges at the time, only during sieges could they hold up the Adenian armies for longer periods of time.

Ever since winning the revolution against Antaria, Adenian tactics have changed little whatsoever. While the Black Army's military successes in recent decades roused the attention of many strategists to the importance of combined arms, most Magnates remain too ignorant of this, displayed in their failures in the Adenian-Marinan wars. If reforms are not due in infantry tactics, it could lead to severe issues later on.

Strategist's note: indeed, the lack of properly trained and equipped infantry led to many lost battles. True, the fall of Aden was also the responsibility of disloyal Magnates, but from a strategical aspect a line of the Imperial Legion's pavise-bearing infantry coupled with the Marinan Unionist Army's pikemen staying and holding out their weapons just behind them resulted an unmatched combination, as they were protected both against arrows and cavalry charges. If we had some capable assault troops to shatter their ranks, things might had been different. I doubt we could have saved Aden, but we could have bought more time for Antaria and tire out the Roman forces. Now that the Black Army once more fights alongside us, I'm discussing the manner with Mogar Blasius if he could aid me in training infantry battalions.

- Citations from the "Great Book of Warfare", originally written by Roman strategist, philosopher and writer Ganeus Plenesus, later expanded by Marinan military expert and historian Tudor Ferzen
- Strategist's note added by Gabston Kollin, Grand Marshal of New Aden on 1227. February 20.

59. Back at home - I.

From: Imperial Provincial Affairs Office
To: Legate Gaius Marius
Topic: Status report in "high-risk" provinces
Date of writing: 1227. March 1.

Legate of the Imperial Legions,

By your personal request and by the Emperor's permission we hereby present you a copy of our monthly report on the current status of the conquered provinces, namely Aden, Antaria and Villian, plus the half-yearly report of the Marinan Unionist Party's Ministry of Home Affairs.

ADEN
On territories where the Magnates are allied or have been removed and replaced by imperial officers, things are smooth. In the latter case, the peasantry has little reason to oppose us - actually, most of them seem rather relieved to be "liberated" from their previous lords, as the original Magnates demanded way higher taxes and provided few rights to them, if any. However, this is becoming a source of mistrust and unrest as well, as peasants from the lands of the allied Magnates are attempting to flee to Roman controlled areas with increasing frequency. We must either make a compromise with those Magnates over the case or raise taxes in the region ourselves to make escape attempts worthless for the peasants.
On the other hand, there are still a couple of Magnates with capable military force who have not joined Rome's cause. During the civil war in Aden, they either stayed neutral or fought against the king but neglected our offers for alliance. As they currently battle amongst themselves, they pose little issue for the imperial forces in the area, but should they happen to conspire against us, they can cause huge temporarily disturbance in the region. Also, the Imperial Investigation Office presumes that the peasant revolt in inner Aden (the royal family's former property) might have been caused by preachers sent by one of those "neutral" Magnates, though there is still further investigation required in the manner.

ANTARIA
Despite the fall of their mighty cities and the death of their king, many of the Antarians did not give up or are still resisting, either openly or secretly. Local imperial forces have engaged smaller rebel forces - consisting mainly of swordsmen and light cavalry - several times during the last few months, mainly in Redes province, and there have been reports of attacked caravans among the hills of Jarnas by local javelin-using rebels. It is a matter of debate how the traitors get the necessary supplies and manpower to keep fighting even after all these months. The Imperial Investigation Office believes that given by the Antarians' strong community spirit, every civilian personnel is a potential supporter of the rebels. However, genocide can't be a solution to the problem. For now the local forces will keep pursuing the rebels while we discuss ideas for a long-term solution.

VILLIAN
Since the last report, the status has improved. It appears that the Villianese are growing too short of manpower and supplies, so whatever pockets of resistance remain in the region probably retreated to the mountains or forest hideouts. Raid attacks are becoming rarer, and the old defense line is not needed anymore, especially since we practically hold the vast majority of the former Duchy under our control.
As we've mentioned in some of the previous reports, we're also managing to come to agreements with several lesser clans and independent villages. They don't mind paying tributes to Rome - as long as Rome leaves them alone beside that. They just want to live their own lives and practice their old ways. Typical ignorant barbarians, unwilling to change for the better. However, the Emperor agreed to their terms - for the time being, that is.

...

MARINA
(Quoted from the half-yearly report of the U.P.)
"We successfully declared the existence of all parties (beside the U.P.) illegal and made laws against "provocative acts". (...) Students from the University of Sciences protested openly, and were joined in the protest by other civilian personnel, the crowd growing as big as two tens of thousands on the Main Square and its surrounding streets. The risk of riot lingered in the air, thus we ordered the employment of military force. (...) The riot was quelled with relatively few civilian casualties. However, it was not possible to prevent news of the events from spreading, leading to even more lesser riots in larger cities and towns. They were dealt with accordingly. (...) The atmosphere grew anxious in villages too, but apart from a few minor atrocities, no notable trouble took place. (...) It is likely that the former members of the Grand Court (members of other political parties) won't return to civil life, but attempt to stir up mobs on their own or found secret resistance groups. To prevent such thing from happening, the Marinan Ministry of Home Affairs agrees on the foundation of a separate observation/informer office which would work in cooperation with the Imperial Investigation Office. (...) The U.P. has to make sure that all of its citizens are "happy and satisfied". And those who are not, will be killed, imprisoned, or have other nasty things done to them."

60. Military lessons - II. (Antaria)

MILITARY HISTORY AND DEVELOPMENT OF WARFARE, SORTED BY LARGER NATIONS, A-Z​
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ANTARIA

If Aden is the birthplace of heavy cavalry tactics, then Antaria (or more specifically, Antares country) is the cradle of heavy infantry troops. The plate armors and two-handed swords of the Antarian infantry soldiers is legendary. While very few written records exist which detail the development and improvement of plate mail armors, it is without debate that they were used as early as 790-850. in wars against the Roman Empire and neighboring lesser kingdoms, and the method of forging these unique pieces of armor is a well-kept secret, though some historians presume that this secret somehow leaked out once, thus allowing the Zerrikanian Sultanate to alter the forging methods and create black steel plates for the fanatical warriors of the Zerrikanian clergy, the Devourers (see more information over the theory at "Zerrikania").

What is the reason behind the development of plate mail armors and employing heavy swords rather than sword-and-shield ? Many claim that one of the most important reasons is the military culture of Antares - using a shield is often viewed as a sign of cowardice. Ironically enough, wearing metal plates capable of withstanding a bolt from a siege crossbow at "short distance" (200-250 meters) is not considered as such. Also, members of nobility and the royal guard often use shields even nowadays. Historical findings provide proof of wide usage of shields in earlier times as well. Military experts outside Antaria assume that as the plate armors became more durable and flexible and Antares acquired new allies in Jarnas and Redes, the regular troops of Antares eventually decided to abandon using their shields and instead took up their fabled two-handed swords.

Another considerable reason is the military reforms taking place in Rome after the empire divided into the Roman Empire and the Republic of Marina around 1030-1040; with the introduction of new types of shields (the pavise shields still in usage by the Legion to this day), throwing javelins and the development of better chainmail armors, it became possible for Roman Legions to form up into disciplined formations which proved to be highly effective against most other infantry-based armies of their time. Since Antaria lacked the necessary cavalry force to shatter these formations, it is logical that during a conflict with Rome they re-equipped and trained their melee infantry to shatter these formations. Indeed, two-handed swords are more than capable of cleaving most shields and armors apart, as well as fit for fighting several enemies at once.

The "allied forces" of Antares are also worth mentioning.
- Jarnas is dominated by lots of hills and mountains. The local, initially primitive people made their living by hunting and gathering. As many of the mountain passes are rather narrow and don't leave much space for properly using a bow, the Jarnasians instead employed javelins for hunting purposes and driving off enemies. Jarnas became part of the Empire of Antaria around 975, when the Villianese Duchy attempted to conquer Jarnas and the locals turned to their long-time ally and trade partner, Antares for protection. The Antarian king at the time, namely Timeron II. lent them aid on the term of attaching Jarnas to Antaria, which happened so. When the regular Antarian army started to have bands of Jarnasian huntsmen armed with javelins, short blades and shields, and later the soldiers of Antares got rid of their own shields, it became a common strategy for Antarian nobles to line up the Jarnasian javelinmen in the first row to take up projectiles with their shields and soften incoming enemies with their own throwing weapons, then fall back to let the Antaresians finish the job.
- Redes is a realm of open plains and grassy fields, originally inhabited by nomadic horse-rider clans. They were initially on hostile terms with Antares which continuously attempted to expand towards their territory (with changing results) until they made a compromise and sealed a peace treaty. After a period of peaceful trading and cultural exchange, Redes came under attack by the combined forces of an Adenian Magnate and a rebellious Roman Centurion around 960. Choosing the lesser of two evils, the nomads of Redes offered submission to Antaria if it helped them repel the invaders. Together they triumphed, and so Redes became a province to Antares, eventually assimilating most of the nomad populace. In modern times, the light cavalry troops of Redes fulfill roles such as scouting and patrolling the borders. Due to their light garments, they are stationed in the flanks and behind the main army body in battle and usually don't enter the fray until the infantry troops engage the enemy.

However, while heavy armors, creative strategies and devoted soldiers made Antaria highly successful until now, the lack of proper ranged support, covering troops (soldiers with large shields) and anti-cavalry soldiers are becoming notable issues due to the development of ranged weapons, fortifications, and horse armor. For that purpose, Antaria employs a large deal of mercenary troops, most notably Kilnor's Dragons, which, however, is a pressing matter for the treasury. Should a financial crisis kick in, things can turn out for the worst. On a different note, Antarians often forget to take weather conditions into consideration during longer campaigns - the sand of the Sahra blown by desert winds is not quite pleasing for someone clad in thick plates; no wonder that crusades against Zerrikania have failed on more than one occasion.

Strategist's note: I've read this book many times over during my years and am still amazed how true its words are even now. While it wasn't nice on the writer's account to presume that we, (former) members of Kilnor's Dragons would abandon Antaria in such a peril, it proved to be true for the Black Army. Also, while the Legion's troops were immense in number especially when backed up by the Marinans, their formations proved inefficient - the Antarian swordsmen could still shatter them. That is, until they received help from the Zerrikanians in the form of masses of archers and horse archers. While the plate armors can withstand arrows to a degree, it doesn't mean they provide reliable defense during a hailstorm of arrows. Here in Calradia, our old tactics do just fine against the Nords, but changes are due indeed if we are to prepare on long terms for potential future conflicts.

- Citations from the "Great Book of Warfare", originally written by Roman strategist, philosopher and writer Ganeus Plenesus, later expanded by Marinan military expert and historian Tudor Ferzen
- Strategist's note added by Siges Gain, formerly Master of Arms at Kilnor's Dragons, currently captain of the 2nd Infantry Battalion of New Antaria, on 1227. March 17.
 
61. Strangers

Calradia, Kingdom of Vaegir, in year 1227, May month, 4th day.

My dear journal,

On this day it has been the third year since we shipwrecked on the northern Calradian coast, north of Rivacheg. Just by thinking of it makes me wonder: was it indeed the best of decision ?

My company is no native to these lands. We're from the island-kingdom of Vesapnia, far to the west. Our arrival here was but a mere incident, thanks to a massive storm that caught us on open sea. It was only by God's grace that the sturdy war vessel that carried us did not suffer too serious damage until we got close enough to the coast.

We knew of the existence of Calradia, but our king did not bother much about them. He believed there was nothing worthy of conquest here - or rather, he was too occupied with waging war with the neighboring kingdoms to consider sending even a single expedition. My own aim was not Calradia either; along with nine other ships, I was setting sail towards the Empire of Xyren, far east, a country with which we've maintained good trade connections. But fate would intervene.

I remember every detail clearly. After getting ashore, we were soon discovered by the local inhabitants, the Vaegirs. Only one young girl was eager to see us from close: she was Agnessa, my future first lieutenant. After a few days of learning from each other, she led me to King Yaroglek, to whom I explained our situation. He spoke:

"To enemies, I show no mercy. To allies, I show great generosity. You are neither. I won't be merciless, nor generous; whatever you want to earn in my lands, will have a price."

He lived up to this promise, so to say. Every Vaegir merchant scored their prices thrice as high when trading with us. And out of all 10, our ship had the least amount of trade goods. But on the other hand, it had the most troops on board. As such, we offered our arms to earn what we needed.

Weeks passed. Weeks became months, months became year. New recruits come by each day, seeking to learn our culture and warfare. The original companions took local women as their wives and some are now fathers. We've become mercenaries, known as the Conquistadors. King Yaroglek's paid lackeys, subjects of his will, auxiliary troops of the Vaegir armies.

But my men seem to be satisfied by this. Shouldn't I be, as well ? I have nothing tying me to Vesapnia. I was an admiral of his majesty and forever loyal in faith, but deep down, I never found my place. Calradia is no different. Or is it...? Something tells me I should stay. That I am needed here.

I heed this feeling for now. God works in mysterious ways...

- Admiral Alfonso Malo, Guild Master of the Conquistadors

Cheer up, sweetheart. (-:

(Above note "secretly" added by Lieutenant Agnessa)

62. Military lessons - III. (Marina)

MILITARY HISTORY AND DEVELOPMENT OF WARFARE, SORTED BY LARGER NATIONS, A-Z​
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MARINA

Being the second republic in the continent's history (the first being the Republic of Rome, which later became the Roman Empire), Marina is the subject of many philosophical, political, economic and military studies from outside experts. Accordingly to the aim of this book, let us take a closer look at the military aspect.

During the seperation war around 1030-1040, It was more favorable for the lower- and middle-classes to support the Senate of Rome rather than the Consul. The Senate gathered particularly many followers in the richer northeastern provinces, which later became the foundation of Marina. However, civil war is not quite fortunate if both sides use the same heraldry, army insignias and uniforms as the other, leading to complete chaos in the field. As such, after the initial years both Rome and Marina initiated military reforms on their own (for more detail on the Roman reforms, see "Roman Empire").

It is hard to decide which side was in deeper trouble: Rome has lost a vast amount of manpower since many poorer people attempted to migrate to Marina, forcing lots of former soldiers to retire early and go back to civil activities or hire slaves from Zerrikania to maintain economy, the latter of which, however, was expensive. On the other hand, Marina had to deal with masses of people, longing for a "better life" as soon as possible. Also, the newfound country was pressed from three sides at once: the Roman Empire, the Zerrikanian Sultanate and several neighboring Adenian duchies, each wanting a piece of it.

To handle such a situation in long terms demanded desperate and immediate actions. After hastily setting up a vast 5-year plan to rationalize economy, the Senate's next step was introducing military reforms, which included:

- shire-based command
- conscription system
- regulated methods of training
- "army cores"
- revisited funding/supply system
- manual of handling mercenaries

The new military worked in the following way accordingly: the large initial provinces were divided into smaller regions (shires). There were "army cores" (one in each shire) formed by regular all-time troops which protected the shires by profession, but these "army cores" were relatively small (even shires lying next to highly endangered borders didn't have more troops in one "core" than a couple of thousands). However, in times of extreme crisis (such as war) the Senate had the right to initiate conscription in selected shires, meaning that each and every man capable of using a weapon had to grab arms to defend their homes, receiving monthly wages while doing so. When the fight was over, they may have returned to their jobs. The funding/supply system was also notable: each peasant, worker, city merchant etc. had to pay two tenths of its income (either in money or material wealth such as grain/animals) to the state on a three-month frequency - one tenth to the state, the other one for the army. The combination of this funding/supply system and the conscription prevented two severe issues (among others) from popping up:

1. there was always enough supply for soldiers as half of the income went straight to army core offices (divided accordingly to threat level), and
2. while the army was strong, the conscripted workers/peasants stood loyal to the Senate as the taxes weren't too pressing and they had more privileges than before.

These regulations have been in charge ever since then, with small changes added here and there.

Now, on the military armament. Marina's might lies in disciplined formations of polearm-bearing foot troops, and well-equipped crossbowmen. Cavalry is a rare sight and is rendered to scouting purposes mostly. Why did the army structure develop as such ?

In the case of the pikemen, historians say is logical to assume that since many conscripts were originally peasants and they had to arm themselves on their own, they initially used tools such as scytes and pitchforks as weapons. This way polearms eventually became highly favored later on. However, for a strategist there is a more practical reasoning: Roman, Zerrikanian and Adenian armies all had superior cavalry forces compared to Marina, and formations of pikemen are commonly known to be the best method to counter cavalry. Furthermore, the length of polearms provided many opportunities during sieges to push incoming enemies off the ladders or the walls, respectively.

It should also be noted that both prior and after the military reforms, Marina hired a fair amount of mercenary troops, including the famous Landsknecht and Condottieri regiments. As the Senate initially had low military power at its disposal, hiring mercenaries was the quickest solution. These regiments all employed some sort of polearm weapon. After the introduction of the reforms, the role of these mercenaries became limited but even today they still fulfill duties as training officers, sergeants and bodyguards to Grand Court members.

On the account of the crossbowmen: the crossbow is known to be Marinan invention, and it spread very quickly in usage after the army reforms. The reason ? A crossbow, while possesses low rate of fire, is easy to handle even for fresh recruits, is accurate and penetrates most armors and shields from relatively long distances. However, they are not easy to craft and require expensive materials. As a result, not many conscripts may get their hands on one; rather, crossbowmen are traditionally parts of the "army cores", often outnumbering the pikemen troops serving in the same core. They are well-equipped (sometimes even better armored than close-combat soldiers) and possess pavise shields, providing reliable ranged support in every situation.

However, Marina is lacking in cavalry. It can be explained by the fact that all of Marina's enemies had stronger cavalry arm, plus while low taxes allowed conscripts to buy better-than-average equipment for themselves, horses were too expensive to afford in larger scale. Nowadays Marina has a select number of lightly armed scouting cavalrymen as parts of army cores.

Of course, there are drawbacks in the military of Marina as well. The most obvious is the lack of heavy cavalry, which would provide great assistance in dealing with hosts of strong ground forces (such as Antaria or Rome). Also, Marinan pikemen usually lack shields due to the size and weight of their weapons. While Antarian infantry soldiers can compensate this with plate armors, Marina can't afford such equipment, often leading to severe losses when facing enemy ranged troops (such as Zerrikanian horse archers). Though it should be noted that Marina has more than enough manpower at its disposal for the time being, expanding the army will be a necessity in decades to come.

Strategist's note: here in Calradia, we needed to revisit the old army regulations. Conscription has been abolished, and while there are still "army cores" present, they are significantly smaller (a couple of hundreds of troops). Quite the contrary, we had to expand the proportion of full-time troops to assist the Rhodoks in war. From the old mercenary regiments, we have but a few members left, mostly stationed in our newly founded settlements. The supply/refund system was also changed - the taxes are somewhat higher now, and all goes straight to the Governor and the Financial Officer. Other than that, the army structure remained pretty much the same.

- Citations from the "Great Book of Warfare", originally written by Roman strategist, philosopher and writer Ganeus Plenesus, later expanded by Marinan military expert and historian Tudor Ferzen
- Strategist's note added by Udmend Jakob, New Marinan Official of War Efforts on 1227. May 13.

63. Conspirators

Kingdom of Vaegir. Ismirala Castle outskirts. 1227. June 15.

- Is there no-one among you maids who can put up a good fight ?! By the thousand devils of the tundra, what's up with you lot !? - a Vaegir Guard yelled as if he was going crazy. No wonder though. In Vaegir society, the Guards were considered no less in rank than lieutenants, practically bodyguards and officers by their lord's side, typically leading a stressful lifestyle. And this particular Guard was pissed at the capabilities of his underlings shown in dueling.

From a distance, the "auxiliary forces" - Zerrikanian warriors - viewed his methods with interest. Ultimately, one of them stood up and approached the Guard. He actually looked more Vaegir than Zerrikanian due to his lamellar vest and spiked helmet decorated with black horse-hair, but his tanned skin, somewhat short stature and sly eyes gave away his heritage. His spiky beard at the end of his chin and similarly spiky mustache coupled with dark brown eyes gave him a serious look. This picture was disturbed only by the fact that his left eyebrow was positioned higher than the right, putting a questioning expression on his face.

- Try me.
- Huh ?
- Do you have hearing problems ? I pity you, but I hate repeating myself.
- Ay, you shoot a couple 'em Khergits and you think you already own this place ?!
- I merely intend to show your men how fighting should be done. That's not improper, mind you.
- Hm. Now that I see you from close, if I'm not mistaken you were the boy who bashed three lancers in a row last time, right ? Well, suit yerself.

They both readied their weapons. The Guard, beside his thick armor, also bore a kite shield and a respectably sized battle axe. On the other hand, his opponent used nothing but a one-handed mace. A unique one at that: basically, a winged mace, but with a longer than usual handle part, and a metal spike with the length of a man's middle finger poking out at the mace head's end. What purpose this served, a mystery.

The Zerrikanian knelt down in a way if he was preparing to jump. In his mind, he was planning ahead:

"Right-handed. Short but heavy weapon. Heavy armor, high personal weight. Shield shape prevents him from using legs during defense. Good sense of balance, but a sudden all-out strike can set him out of it."

- Are you planning to keep me waitin' boy ? - the Guard yelled, standing like a living tower, his legs set firmly.

The Zerrikanian shortly nodded, then got to work: one swift leap ahead, legs forward, landing on shield, leaping off, spinning in air, landing on ground. The Vaegir was set off from balance. Second leap forthcoming. The Vaegir raised his axe, but suddenly released it when the metal spike curved a wound on his arm which was not protected by the plates. Leap backwards, then forward again. One strike with the mace, and the shield got buckled. Second strike, and it was almost broken. Finally, a thrust with the spike, and the kite shield shattered to three larger and many smaller pieces. The spike raced into the chest, but ultimately, it stopped. The Guard looked suprised about his quick defeat, but seconds later, he broke out in a hearty laughter.

- HA, that's mah boy ! See you maids ? THAT'S how you beat people !

Shattering laughter all around the camp.

- He, just don't forget 'bout a rematch, boy !
- Do not worry, I will not. - the challenger slightly bowed, then left.

The Zerrikanian warrior, namely Ibrahom Al-Zasid, prince-in-exile of the Sultanate, returned to his kinsmen.

- My good sultan, why are you lowering yourself to this miserable lot ? - a Timariot asked.
- In this land, you can never have enough good connections, nor combat training. - Ibrahom responded with his always calm, almost cold and unaffectionate tone. - Which reminds me. Has Artan arrived back yet ?
- No, not yet, oh exalted one. But I saw his pet crow at the stables, he'll be around soon.

Ibrahom nodded, rolling his wheel of thoughts into a different direction. Ismirala Castle was under heavy siege in the last few months. First by the Swadians from the west, accompanied by knights bearing an "unknown heraldry" (which a Zerrikanian rider later identified as of Adenian origin). The Vaegirs and their Zerrikanian allies held firmly, but ultimately it wasn't them who beat the Swadians, but the Khergits who, after the devastation of Shulus village, decided to try their luck at Ismirala as well. The two invader armies clashed, much to the joy of the defenders, who organized a raid attack which finally broke the morale of both enemy armies. All of this thanks to a couple of thoughtful Vaegir knights and Ibrahom, who, oddly enough, favored not to show his true rank and importance off. This was an old practice in some Zerrikanian armies to avoid potential assassinations. Here, it was probably unnecessary, but Ibrahom insisted nevertheless. Now that the fighting was over for now, the soldiers were taking a well-earned rest. But for an ambitions man such as Ibrahom, there can be no rest 'till his goal is achieved.

- Oh exalted one, Artan and our, ahem, "honored guests" have arrived.
- Good. Let us meet up with them.

A couple of minutes later, the Sultan laid his eyes upon a company of three peoples:

Artan, nicknamed the "Neckseeker" was Villianese by origin, but unlike other Villianese in the old sultanate, he wasn't a slave; nay, he converted to worshiping the Void and serving Zerrikania by his own free will. His peerless skill of archery and stealth came especially handy when it was necessary to make people disappear (including Ibrahom's aunt, an old harpy by nature). Right now, he was wearing a dark green hooded cloak, mounting a pitch-black horse.
The other two were not so familiar for Ibrahom's sight. One was a Vaegir, possibly a noble judged by his expensive outfit. His elegantly shaped brown, almost reddish hair and beard provided him with a charming, sophisticated look. The other traveler, however, was clad in heavy plates from top to toe, hiding away gender, age and race alike. Only his - or her ? - eyes were visible, which were green.

- Hail to thee, my Calradian friends. - Ibrahom slightly bowed.
- Just make this stuff quick so I can get back to mah business, get it princeling ? - the plated figure scoffed with a deep, not completely sober-sounding male voice. Artan was searching for his dagger but decided against using it at the moment.
- As much as I hate his ill kin, I have to agree we both have precious time. - the Vaegir noble supported the statement. - So let us discuss things.

Ibrahom nodded, then handed over a letter to the plated figure.

- To Cutty. He'll know what to do. Now you may leave.
- You've improved at speed since last time, princeling, good ! Keep it up ! Just remember, don't start business rivalry cos' we'll come for you ! - with this conclusion, he turned his horse the other way and galloped away.
- My good sultan. - Artan inquired. - Are you sure you don't want him, ahem, out of duty for the rest of his mortal days ?
- Not. Yet. - Ibrahom answered with a sly sparkle in his eyes. - And now let us get to the point.

The Vaegir noble nodded back, then dismounted his horse. Ibrahom invited him inside the castle.

- Come now, Prince Valdym... we have much, very much to discuss....!

64. Business is business

To: BOSS
From: Cutty
Case: Business - big, urgent ! + a suspect - equally big and urgent !

Ohey, BOSS. I just received a letter from Steely, sent by one of our newest business partners, namely Ibra-hum Alzasid (hope I spelled correctly). We have one big business on our hands, I tell you. This Ibra-boy is willing to pay two times the normal price for each and every slave of Zerrikanian origin - IF they are capable of working and/or fighting. He also promised to deliver any captured prisoners straight to our ransom brokers instead of selling them off on his own, even if this means reduced price. Knowing the abilities of the Zerrikanians in this business, I guess we can agree Ibra-boy is desperate. Though I can't help but wonder why doesn't he just hire our slaves regardless of nationality like every other normal people do. I, for one, doubt it's merely a matter of personal pride.

On second thoughts, I remember Witty murmuring something about a deal with "the Wanderer", which also concerned Zerrikanian people (among others) some time before, under conditions somewhat similar to Ibra-boy's offer. To my knowledge, it couldn't had been longer since three or four weeks since that pact was fulfilled and done with. Call me a conspiracy theorist if you will BOSS, but I say something is fishy. According to Steely, Chainy and Coldy who look after business in the Vaegir regions, the Zerrikanians under Ibra-boy aren't all that wealthy. I know they are professionals at gathering prisoners, but taking the nature of the Vaegirs into consideration, it is unlikely they could gather so many to afford such a deal like Ibra-boy's. Ibra-boy must be getting financial help from somewhere else.

Yes, I'm aware of the fact that he's allying with Prince Valdym, but he isn't too rich either. Heck, he can barely afford to have a proper retinue of bodyguards. Even if he pulls some strings here and there, it would be too obvious for Yaroglek, so this possibility is out of the picture as well.

Ah well. Business is business, but I suggest we keep our eyes peeled on this topic. Having material to blackmail people is always handy, after all.

- Cutty

PS: I was also thinking, since we have a fair deal of slave hunters of Zerrikanian origin, couldn't we pass on the lazier ones to Ibra-boy for extra profit ?

1227. June 18.

65. Military lessons IV. (Villianese)

MILITARY HISTORY AND DEVELOPMENT OF WARFARE, SORTED BY LARGER NATIONS, A-Z​
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VILLIANESE DUCHY

Studying the Villianese ways of war is not an easy undertaking, as its roots stretch back by centuries, yet there is little amount of written recording recovered or shared with outsiders whatsoever. Whatever information I get my hands on is mainly patched together from Roman, Antarian and Zerrikanian sources during earlier conflicts and stories spread by merchants.

First of all, it should be pointed out that the Duchy of Villian is not a centralized area like other modern states, but a somewhat chaotic union of clan territories watched over by a common ruler. In this regard, Villian was/is not unlike the Kingdom of Aden, but there is an important difference, namely the fact that the Villianese elect new kings among clan chieftains through a series of duels on a ten-year frequency. While the duels rage on, there can be no war among the clan for any reason. However, the question rises: what rights does the Duke possess ? Accordingly to a Zerrikanian merchant's diary from 1130, the Duke's rights include declaring/stopping wars, judging over any living person in the Duchy except the chieftains (though there are some exceptions, such as when a chieftain betrays the whole Duchy or plots assassination), introducing or banishing common laws (which may be vetoed by the chieftains - this worked on the basis of "simple majority").

Take note that the description above is highly simplified, so although it sounds familiar to the Adenian system, in truth the Villianese Duke's power over individual clans is limited. The writer says this is so because the Villianese value freedom highly and despise tyranny above all else. From a historian's point of view, the limited power of the Duke pretty much explains why the Duchy launched so few campaigns of conquest against its neighbors over so many years: it was simply too busy dealing with its inner affairs. On the other hand, it is absolutely astonishing what happens when danger is upon the clans. As word spreads of the common enemy among the clans, infighting ceases and any invader challenging the Villianese face-to-face will be suprised to witness how varying the Villianese heraldry can be, each clan, greater family and heroic champion showing off their personal colors and signs. Whether such events are special occasions which give the Duke absolute right to muster the clans or simply proof of a very strong community spirit remains a source of debate.

Another considerable factor is the geography of the Duchy. A country of hills, mountains and vast forestlands teeming with wildlife, hunting was the primary source of food, fur, and fame alike, and this trend is most likely several centuries old. How else would have it been possible for the Villianese to bring archery to an almost inhuman level ? During the Villianese-Antarian war over Jarnas in 974-975, an Antarian noble describes:

"Open field battle means no challenge even for the lowest of our swordsmen, but among the mountain roads and dense woods, it feels like The One himself has forsaken us; you don't hear their steps, and when the birds sing, you can't be sure whether it's their sign for an ambush or really just an ordinary bird. And the hisses are the worst. The hissing sound of the arrows, racing towards your skull, finding the smallest opening on the helmet - more often than not, the gaps left open for the eyes. You can keep your eyes peeled as much as you want, you'll never find them on your own; they hide like small lizards among the leaves. I swear, if it wasn't for our Jarnasian friends' knowledge of their homeland, the Villianese would have won by merely staying in their hideouts."

After Antaria won the short but rather bloody war, over the course of several decades such sources were seen as exaggerating, but the recent Roman-Villianese wars have once again proved the capabilities of Villianese bowmen.

The Villianese also excel at hand-to-hand combat with shields and sabers. Any decent strategist would immediately realize that such combat style is typically employed when countering enemy archers in rough terrain. The reason behind such a progress could be explained by the civil wars among the clans. This theory is further strengthened by the fact that beside the Zerrikanians, no foe of the Duchy has employed archers at larger scale. Nevertheless, while primarily seen as anti-archer foot troops, Villianese fighters are not to be underestimated in any other situation either for they handle their sabers with intimidating skill.

Take notice of the lack of strong cavalry however; beside delivering messages, scouting and transportation, the Villianese do not employ horses for combat purposes. After all, mounting a horse in dense forest or narrow pathways is more of a drawback than an advantage.

One more interesting feature of the Villianese art of war is the role of religion. It is well-known that the Villianese worship the powers of Nature, as well as their dead ancestors (the two categories are commonly referred to as the "Old Gods", as they are considered to be the "most ancient" deities by scholars). Almost every campaign of the Villianese started with a vision sent by these so-called Old Gods, foretelling disasters that could be thwarted if "someone" is defeated prior to the event taking place. Of course, scholars presume that most likely the given Dukes simply bribed the seers to manipulate the clans the way they wanted it. Deciding over the case shall be left to historians. Another fascinating part is the role of the "Chosen Ones", warriors thought to be possessed by lesser Gods or champions of ages past. Chosen Ones are rather varying in nature, ranging from bloodthirsty madmen to pragmatic and calm spiritual guides. Strangely enough, they have but one thing in common: they all claim to be guided by "whispers" or "voices". Whether they are really guided by higher powers or are plain lunatics is unknown, especially since people facing their fury in battle eagerly support both statements at once. The role of Chosen Ones and their "variants" (such as the Champions of Ancestors) is as diverse as their personalities. Some wander the land and aid those in need, others lead warbands from different clans into war against common enemies, yet others may even fulfill roles as clan chieftains (though traditionally Chosen Ones are forbidden to participate in the election for a new Duke, as the election is a "mortal matter").

In any case, combating the Villianese demands cunning above all else. One must find soldiers capable of battling them in rough terrain, and take advantage of Villianese inner conflicts, holidays and religious habits. Divided and disorganized, or challenged in the open field, the Villianese are quick to fall, but otherwise they fight tooth and nail for every inch of land they own.

Strategist's note: It's a good thing I acquired this book (among other ones) thanks to Felip Wolsen. Now I will have an edge when it comes to handling the Villianese under that treacherous Ragnar's rule...

- Citations from the "Great Book of Warfare", originally written by Roman strategist, philosopher and writer Ganeus Plenesus, later expanded by Marinan military expert and historian Tudor Ferzen
- Strategist's note added by Lethwin Far-Seeker, 1227 June 21.

66. Cycle of life

A sage once said: history repeats. But he didn't answer: why ?
Does it repeat because people are ignorant of the past ?
Or is it because people are powerless against this never-ending cycle to begin with ?

I remember when I was a boy... I remember the burning houses and trees. I remember the desecrated shrines and temples. I remember the screams and the silence that followed. I remember when my father grabbed me and ran, ran as he could. I remember how we all wandered, away from our enemy, seeking a new land. I remember how my father passed away, just after found a new place to live. I remember how he handed over his bow, and asked me:

"Son... lead our people well."

I remember the sorrow, and the desperation that took over me; what was I supposed to do ? How was I supposed to lead ?

I remember it all.

The Old Gods, may their beings be known forever, helped and guided me on my destined road. My clan rose strong once more; the Duke himself sent his praise.

But then they came again. The Romans. Men of arrogance and falsehood. As they marched deeper and deeper into the forests, the cycle began anew.

The burning, the defilement, the escape...

Only this time, we boarded ships, chasing after some old legend. Calradia... a land of fables. By the will of fate, it became reality.

And damned be this fate, the cycle does not stop; it takes me with itself. My body vanes with illness... my son... I want to see my son ! If there is nothing else left for me, I must continue the cycle...

...and trust my son that he will close it one day.

- Gutta Kentura, chief of the Kentura Clan
Kingdom of Nords, north of Jelbegi, Kentura clan territory, 1227. July 5.

...

It has ended; my father is with the Old Gods now. May his tired spirit find peace.
Before passing on, he handed over the family bow, and whispered his last words:

"Son... lead our people well."

I will do everything I can to live up to his will.

- Ferges Kentura, new chief of the Kentura Clan
1227. July 6.

67. Politics...

The experience I gathered from political debates and court dramas in Marina is finally beginning to pay off. I sought out Lord Kastor of Veluca, and asked him out for a meeting in my humble city of Sparrus. Of course, he had to disguise himself; King Graveth has many agents, and I didn't want to lose a potential ally too early, along with my head, which I am pretty attached to.

Once in my private room, I began with bringing up Lethwin Far-Seeker's name. It was a wise move, for as it turned out, Kastor and Lethwin were kindred spirits, even friends. When I inquired of his past, Kastor did not hesitate to reveal an interesting story about my dear superior Graveth...

As I already know thanks to local studies, the Rhodoks don't have hereditary monarchs, but instead, members of the nobility hold elections among themselves. Occasionally they might even invite foreign princes to the throne, though that is very rare; the last example of this was when they invited a Swadian prince a few decades back, but he was such a terrible ruler that they threw him out.

...whoops, my mind is wandering off again. Where was I ? Oh yes, the elections. On the latest one (a couple of years back) Graveth was one candidate, Kastor the other. During the deliberations, Graveth appeared wielding a sword and informed the council that a Swadian raiding party was approaching the field and he would leave them to their fate if they did not elect him king right then (which they appearently did). The raiding party came, and Graveth and his bodyguards managed to protect the council.

However, Kastor claims that those Swadians were everything but professionals. They fought more like simple bandits clad in Swadian arms and heraldry. Furthermore, how the hell did they come to know where the meeting was held in the first place ? He came to the conclusion that Graveth made the whole incident up to get himself elected. Too bad it was too late, not to mention the lack of solid evidence. Over the years, the majority of the nobility came to accept Graveth as their ruler, especially due to his rich gifts for loyal supporters. Nevertheless, there is a concrete minority which secretly sides with Kastor. Kastor himself long-planned to rouse a rebellion, or at least demand a new election, but he is hesitant; he wants to take over a unified, strong nation, not one torn apart by civil war, lest other empires might conquer it. The Swadians and the Nords in particular have a long-standing feud with the Rhodoks, not to mention those Khergit folks in the south.

I explained my own situation to him, and fortunately we found common ground. If he wants to triumph over Graveth without bloodshed, he would have to ridicule him in front of his subjects. And for that purpose, he found a good ally in my person.

Refugees from my old homeland, Marina, continue to set foot on Calradian soil every week; despite the wars, our numbers and significance in the region is growing. Now is the time to pull some strings. We planned a nice theater play for the upcoming court meeting... I can't wait to see "king" Graveth's face !

- Felip Wolsen, Governor of New Marina
Kingdom of Rhodoks, Marinan dwelling territory, Sparrus city, 1227. July 29.
 
68. Complications

- New Antarian Empire, Vis Solreas city, 1227. August 7.

- AAAHH ! - Rihard Stelhart yelled as his left arm got twisted by a man in black plates. Soon afterwards, he felt a sudden pain in his side, due to an armor-clad knee. He was then released, falling to the earth, getting his head knocked against the stone floor of the courtyard.
- Your let your guard off again, princeling ! Did the Void overtake your brain or what ?! How many times do I have to repeat: the battlefield is no place to daydream ! Steel yourself ! - Matias Corves, general of the Black Army, scoffed at his would-be apprentice.
- Matias, that's enough. - Daniell de Sol stepped in.
- What ?! - he grunted in response. - We are barely past 3 hours of training. A REAL battle could last twice longer.
- I appreciate your care for my king's future physical condition, but there are other matters a king has to look into. In addition, there is a messenger from the eastern front. A sergeant sent by Kinisi. This flickers even your interest, doesn't it ?
- Hmpf. Fine. 20-minute-break. - and so he walked off.

Daniell took the opportunity to help Rihard get back to his feet.

- My liege, you really shouldn't-
- NO ! I won't give this up until I can defeat him one-on-one ! This is a matter of honor !
- My king, what I wished to say is that you shouldn't think so much of Adena, at least during the practice fights.
- ...excuse me ?
- It is all obvious that you long after him, my liege.
- How did you figure that out ?
- You mutter a thing or two during sleeping, but that's unimportant.
- Well... you can't blame me. She is very close to my heart, yet it has been a while since we last met...
- But you exchange letters frequently, don't you ?
- Yes, but that's not the same... I can't help it. I'm glad that Matias left half of his company to protect her. I wish he told me why.

A few moments of silence took place. Rihard recalled one of Adena's letters, where she mentioned something about a mysterious employer who hired the Black Army to protect them. When he asked Matias of this, he would reply that "Business is business". Rihard was aware that Matias and his men were mercenaries, working for money, but the delicate details... the advisors sent to Adena... and here, Matias, the King of the Dead, took Rihard under his dark wings. Rihard suspected something greater behind the scenes, but he couldn't get his hands on it. Daniell decided to break the silence.

- Time will unlock that snare on his mouth, good king. But speaking of Adena, that messenger who arrived might have some news concerning her, too.
- Yes, you are probably right. - Rihard sighted. - Oh, just one thing: remind me to ask the carpenter to make a thicker, sound-proof bedroom door.
- I will, my liege. Shall we go then ?
- Of course, let's go.

...

They went down to the stables just outside the inner castle. Matias was already waiting there, the messenger - a grey-bearded sergeant - standing just next to him.

- Took you two long enough. - he noted. - Now, let us hear the news.

The sergeant knelt down before Rihard for a couple of moments, then stood up, though still staring downwards.

- My liege, I bear news of ill nature.

Oh no...!

- Adena ! What is with Adena-
- Calm thyself, my liege ! The queen is fine, no harm fell upon her. All that pains her is the distance from you.
- ...thank The One... but you said you bear ill news; are those Vaegir bastards winning over the knights of Aden ?
- No, not the Vaegirs. Rather, some sorts of mercenaries. Well-armored infantrymen acting in strict formations, and knights, their stature like giants, clad in plates.
- Now that's starting to scorch my interest. - Matias cut in. - Speak in detail ! Who are they ?
- They call themselves the Conquistadors, general. - the sergeant turned towards Matias, looking face-to-face. - Their clothes are rather fancy, with bright red and yellow stripes. But their equipment and disciple is first class. Mind you, general, our experience and discipline is that gathered on fields of slaughter; theirs is more of the sort collected on the training ground.
- So how come they are such a threat ? I remember sending the more reliable half of the Black Army to the eastern front, just in such case.
- They are led by an exceptional strategist and dueler by the name of Alfonso Malo; his mastermind triumphed over even Mogar's.
- What are you implying ? - Matias roused an eyebrow.
- Captain Mogar... went to sleep.

Anxious silence fell upon the companions.

- I... see. - Mathias said, with such malice in his voice that Rihard suddenly felt sick. - And Kinisi ? What of him ?
- He went berserk, along with the entire company. They carried out such a dreadful carnage that the Conquistadors and the Vaegirs, who outnumbered us 4-to-1, fled in outmost terror. Even in death, Mogar brought us to victory. Still, our losses are many; we hold the front firm for now. But without him... I'm not sure how long.

The sergeant took off his helm, letting his short silvery hair blown by the soft wind. He saluted with closed eyes.
Mathias heavily sighted. After some seconds passing by, he turned away and left.

- That must have been a heavy blow, even for him. - Rihard pointed out.
- Indeed, my liege. - Daniell took off his helm himself. - I knew Mogar myself; mercenary by profession, but a true knight by heart. He will be missed.
- What will Matias do now ?
- I would say that this... Alfonso Malo... will not live past next month.

...

A while later...

Matias' private room was very simple - he hated luxuries anyway, fearing he'd become too soft if he gets used to them. But compared to the rest of the royal castle, this seemed like a peasant's hut in the inside, just as downtrodden and dirty, despite the fact that is was recently built.

There was a knocking on the door.

- Come in.

Drekal Vald stepped in, his clothes stained in blood.

- You were lending a hand at the butcher's again, weren't you ?
- I can't help it, boss. Now that the Nords take a break, I have to work out my sadistic urges in different ways.
- Then you're going to like what you'll hear. Or more precisely, the job involved with the event.
- I can finally get away from this soft-boy's mansion ?! Good ! Get straight to the point !
- Mogar is dead.

Drekal glared, his jaw dropped. Matias waited for his further reactions.

- You... you are joking ! Right, boss ? Right ? Right...?!

Mathias remained silent. All of sudden, Drekal burst out in crazed anger.

- AAAAARRRRHHHH ! IT CAN'T BE ! IT CAN'T BE ! WHY HE ?! WHY NOT THAT MEAT-HEAD KINISI !? OR ME ! YES ! ME ! I WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE SOONER ! THAT'S NOT FAIR ! BY THE HORRORS OF THE VOID, NOT FAIR ! WHO-

As suddenly as it began, the mad fury went away. Drekal looked at Matias with pure hatred, hatred for the person responsible for the departure of a friend.

- Who...?
- The name is Alfonso Malo. Eastern front. Travel there.
- What to do with him...?
- There is a space left by Mogar. If he can fill it by any means, persuade him to do so. If he can't, or refuses... make sure he won't be a direct threat ever again.

Drekal clenched his fist on the short-poled spear he always carried with him on the back. He took it off, licking the head with malicious joy.

- My agony and fury has a focus, a target. Let me loose upon it !
- I let you. Get to the stables, a sergeant is waiting there. He will accompany you. Now go ! On the double !
- YES, SIR ! - Drekal said, and rushed out of the room, shattering the door in the progress.

Matias laid against the wall, sighting. He had very few true friends; now, he had one less.

- I need a new, thicker door. - he muttered.

69. The mail always gets through

Kingdom of Rhodok, Veidar village, 1227. August 12.

Lord Nealcha felt tired already, though he just stood up from bed. He stretched his arms, then slowly walked into the kitchen of his mansion, taking a seat by a finely-crafted pine table. The servant girls knew well what they were expected to do, and thus in a matter of a minute breakfast was prepared - boiled eggs, bread, and freshly gathered fruits.

Lord Nealcha could not deny that he was succumbing to old age. There was a time when he could swing a glaive with one hand, when he was the lord of three villages and a castle, when even the knights of Swadia turned tail upon the sight of his banner.

But that's all a thing of the past. He was past his 55th winter, and had more than enough of both bloodshed and court debates (where nobody listened to him anyway). All his heart wanted was to settle down in this lovely village for the couple of years he still had left. However, his heart rebelled at stagnation: he spent much of his personal wealth to turn the region prosperous, erecting a church, a school, a small barracks, roads... and, if the village was ever disturbed, he was the first to rush out, swinging his glaive to split bandit heads open. In the end, though, there was nothing more to do: nothing more to build, no more bandits to deal with. Boredom kicked in. And he grew ever more annoyed because of it. If only there was something to do...

Just then, a leather armored young man stepped in. Nealcha grunted at him:

- Kevin ! Aren't you supposed to be training with Norek ?!
- I- I'm sorry, milord, but a messenger arrived, from Sparrus city. You know, from the Marinan region. Wanted me to hand over a... "Newspaper".

He handed over a bunch of pergamen, weaved together at the left side; Nealcha could turn the pages like in a book, only this was quite thin for a book. Yet, too much for a single report. He looked questioningly at the boy.

- We used to have such things back home, in Marina, and it seems the Governor revives it - Kevin explained, as he was Marinan by origin himself. - the messenger says every nobleman receives one per month. It's like... different reports about different things, patched together. They let you know about big things that happened just recently.
- Hm... interesting idea. I may as well have a look then. As for you, dismissed.
- Yes milord.

Nealcha felt a tiny bit of excitement in himself; ever since he retired to this village, he didn't care much of the outside world, until Kevin came along. In either case, he began to read; fortunately, it was written in Rhodok language. Rather crude writing, no decoration or anything, but for explaining news, fair enough. He picked an article randomly.

Landsknechts Looking For Job !

No time or patience to beat discipline into your peasants ? Need professionals quickly ? Then send a homing pigeon right away !
Experienced Marinan mercenaries are offering their reliable services at a reasonable price:
- Each company member has at least 5 years of experience in frontline service, and are used to act in formations
- Each member has its own equipment, including, but not limited to: chainmail armor, steel helmets, sidearms, and various high-quality polearm weapons
- We can also provide training courses for your troops, especially in anti-cavalry tactics

Limited-time offer: if you rent our services for more than 2 months, we give a 10% discount from the weekly wages after the third month !

Current prize in charge: 60 Denars / 1 Landsknecht / 1 week
Current Troop number: a little over 300
Where to send pigeon: to any mercenary guildhouse in Sparrus, Yalen, Glunmar or Reveran

"This counts as important news ? Well, that's one way to advertise, I suppose. They charge a fair enough price, I might add. If only that Pinar kid from the Serpent Host would see this..."

Nealcha didn't despise sell-swords - he often employed smaller bands himself - but the Serpent Host mercenaries in his eyes were quite agressive in terms of business policy. He skipped to the article in the center, while wondering to himself why he ignored it at first:

DRAMA IN ROYAL COURT !

At the latest court meeting, Felip Wolsen (Marinan Governor) brought a special guest with himself, namely Lord Kastor of Veluca. As we all know, Lord Kastor has been living in self-imposed exile ever since the last king election turned out in favor of King Graveth. Now, Lord Kastor returns to the public life of our kingdom with a great bang, and intends to make use of his huge personal wealth to improve the life of the inhabitants of our lands. However, his sudden appearence and horrible charges against Graveth's authority pave a straight way to undermine the political stability of the Kingdom of Rhodok.

Lord Kastor claims that during the latest election, Graveth organized the attack by the Swadian raiding party by himself. He elaborated on this theory in court: "Just give it a little thought. How else could have the Swadians known of the secret meeting grounds ? And even if they came across by accident, it doesn't justify why Graveth appeared in the meeting armed to the teeth, not to mention he brought along all his personal bodyguards, while the rest of the lords bore no arms, and had only 2 guards each. Graveth intentionally violated the laws of our kingdom, and has no rightful claim to the Rhodok throne." He also added that his exile was due to blackmailing from Graveth, who threatened him that he will either step aside and forfeit his lordly properties (farmlands, villages and castles), or 'get a head shorter'.

Needless to say, King Graveth was outraged. While he couldn't bring up any strong arguements against Kastor's charges, he reasoned that his economic reforms (including providing more privileges to smaller communities, tax regulation and state-provided equipment for all-time troops) brought prosperity and increased the overall safety of the kingdom, while Kastor hid away in god-knows-where and refused to take part in the court affairs for years. Most of the noblemen present at court supported his reasoning, however some of them still maintained that there is truth in Kastor's words as well.

Lord Etrosq said: "This is pure madness. The people owe much to Graveth, including the Marinan migrants, however I do acknowledge the injustice that took place at the election. Still, the last thing this country needs is a potential civil war while our borders are battered from three sides at once."

Felip Wolsen suggested the case to be solved by a new election, which would take place when the Rhodok lands are deemed militarily safe enough. Kastor himself said he would be satisfied by such an act, and until the time comes, he will raise a new army to keep the Khergit and Swadian warbands in check at the southern/south-eastern frontlines. Graveth, on the other hand, consistently opposes to the idea; "Kastor is practically a traitor who abandoned his kinsmen when he was most needed, and deserves life-time prison, or at least permanent exile."

The Rhodok nobles still wager their opinions, but for now it seems Kastor gained enough support to escape royal judgement and reclaim parts of his once-enormous property. He also told in court that he is willing to set aside his differences with Graveth for the nation's sake, and wait for proper judgement from the noble court of Rhodok when it's due. Nevertheless, we can expect the following months to be rather strained.


"...guess I should reconsider my retirement..." - Nealcha thought to himself as he turned the page. - "Hm, what's this ?"

Crusade upon Khergits !

Lord Kastor of Veluca returned (see the main article on the front page), and ready to whip the Khergits back to the steppes where they belong !

While it remains a mistery how Kastor preserved a significant part of his financial wealth, he is more than willing to part with it now, since shortly after his return, he announced his intention to take on the Khergit hordes at the southern frontlines.

As he explained: "I have information from trustworthy sources that the Black Horde, along with several minor Khergit tribes are planning to besiege Jamiche Castle, and this is something I cannot allow, especially since if it falls, the road to my home town, Veluca, will be left wide open. While I'm certain the Khergits have no means to take Veluca by force, the rampage on surrounding villages is something I don't want to see realized. To match up to their strength in a short time, I intend to employ mercenary bands, including the Shining Eagles regiment. Also, if any of the nobility share the same goals as I do, I encourage them to join me and fight by my side. Lord Falsevor and Lord Laruqen already sent word that they shall be lending their support."

Kastor plans to assemble the expected forces by the first day of September, near Chaeza village.

Nealcha felt his blood starting to boil; still, there aren't that many good troops in Veidar. Where could he gather enough professionals in such a short- wait a second...

Current prize in charge: 60 Denars / 1 Landsknecht / 1 week
Current Troop number: a little over 300
Where to send pigeon: to any mercenary guildhouse in Sparrus, Yalen, Glunmar or Reveran

...

- KEVIN ! Ready my horse and armor ! NOREK ! Get twelve-dozen men battle-ready from the barracks !

Kevin, alongside Norek, a veteran of an earlier war against the Khergits, thought they heard it wrong.

- With all due respect lordship, did you fall from the chair or something ?
- No, old friends, quite the contrary ! I found a new guiding light ! Oh, what a happy day ! Tremble, Khergit dogs ! Nealcha the cleaver is back ! ...Why are you two staring like idiots ?! TO WORK, MAGGOTS !

Kevin and Norek left with haste. On their way, the old Rhodok fighter couldn't help but mutter curses.

- See, lad ? I always said that too much reading harms the brain, but nooo...

70. Ravens and Eagles

Swadian-Vaegir borderlands, South of Tadsamesh village, 1227. August 19.

At last he arrived. Drekal Vald jumped off his horse, asked around, then raced to the officers' tent. He stormed in, bumping into a tower of muscle.

- DREKAL ! Old mate, it's really you !
- GAAHH ! Kinisi, I feel VERY 'stabby' today, so put me down !

Afterwards, Drekal closely examined the other people who gathered around the pine table in the middle of the tent. Gabston Kollin, Grand Marshal of the Adenian forces, now also (temporarily) in charge of the local Black Army troops. Queen Adena was also there, though her presence was not a strategical necessity, but rather to inspire the troops. The third person was Lord Grainwad, who represented the Kingdom of Swadia and arrived a few days ago with his personal retinue of elite troops. And then there was...

- Hey, you. - Drekal pointed at the fourth person. - Yes, you, the armored ***** ! Name, rank, blah blah, speak up !

Suddenly he felt his head smashed into the table, nearly shattering the old wood. Good thing he didn't take off his helm yet.

- HEY ! What was that for, meathead ?!
- Mogar would do the same if he heard you speaking to a lady like this.

Drekal couldn't argue with that.

- Be glad that Sir Kinisi is your comrade, else I would have cut off your tongue, impudent twerp. - so said the armored woman. - The name is Lady Isolla of Suno, righful heir to the throne of Swadia ! So I advise you to mind your manners in the future.
- Sure, you must be a really important person being stuck here with lowly scumbags like myself.

SMASH !

- Ouch.
- Have you no shame, behaving in his absence like this ?! - Kinisi grunted.
- 'kay, 'kay. So, Lady Isolla, what brings you to our humble camp ?
- That's better. Now try to keep up the tone, sell-sword. - Isolla smiled, then continued. - I came here alongside Lord Grainwad, to negotiate with Queen Adena. As you know, the current ruler of Swadia is Harlaus, my father's brother. However, his claim to the throne is unjust. But to oppose him, I need allies. Thus, together with my loyal subject Lord Grainwad, we 'secretly' marched here to join forces with Aden against the Vaegirs and their lackeys, in hope of a future alliance towards the downfall of my not-quite-dear cousin.
- I myself hold little favor for Harlaus. - Queen Adena added. - The Wanderer himself said-
- Wait a second ! - Drekal cut in. - The Wanderer ? Is he messing around again ?! I swear-
- *AHEM !* - Gabston Kollin interrupted. - Mind you, ladies and sirs, we have more pressing issues at hand. Even as we speak, the Vaegirs and the Conquistador mercenaries are preparing for assault.

This restored order for the time being. The Vaegirs and the Conquistadors were gathering next to Tadsamesh village, intending to break through the Adenian line and marching to besiege Ushkuru castle. Drekal's mind started focusing on the battle ahead. He had no intention to deliver Matias' offer to the killer of his friend; he'll just say that Malo rejected the offer. Oh, yes...

"Alfonso Malo... I have a pair of blades with your name written on them...!"

...

A couple days later, on a nearby place, Alfonso Malo, leader of the Conquistadors, woke up from his sleep, sweating and shaking. His right-hand (wo)man, Lieutenant Agnessa came rushing in.

- Admiral ! Are you alright ?! I heard you yelling !
- It's okay, Agnessa, it was just a bad dream. Yes... that was it, and nothing more.
- Are you certain ? - a third, female voice asked from a dark corner of the tent.

It was a young, blond-haired woman, with six lines of blue paint running across her face and neck. She was a Norn of the Jotnar Clan; caught in a battle against the Nords, her intimidatingly sharp knowledge of the world roused Malo's attention, and so he decided to keep her around. The Norn mistress, named Halla Mistwhisper, did not protest. Agnessa, on the other hand...

- Shut it up, witch. Poor Malo has a lot of pressure on him already, the last thing he needs is more of your mish-mash.
- Your loyalty, as well as ignorance, is remarkable. - Halla noted.
- Ladies, do not start again. - Malo said. - Had you received a new vision, Halla ?
- Indeed I have. A bloody-feathered raven, with blades as its talons, fought against a two-headed eagle of yellow and red.
- Surely, this means something in connection with our upcoming battle against the dark-plated warriors. How did the battle end ?
- I can't say for sure. Their battle was terrible and ruthless, but I could not see it to the end; a dragon's laughter shadowed my vision.
- I tell you Malo, she's making it all up. - Agnessa spoke.
- The Farsight is limited, but it never lies. - Halla responded indifferently. - Nevertheless, we can all agree that this battle depends on Malo; and I can say for sure he is not destined to perish this day.
- That's all the knowledge I need to see this battle to the end. - Malo concluded with strict confidence.

Shortly afterwards, he was ready for battle, clad in beautiful plate armor, buckler in hand, sword by his side. And tied to his belt, his trusty flintlock pistol, loaded. Looking at it, he remembered his duel against a knight with scarred but proud face...

Bah ! In war and love, everything is allowed. He and Agnessa mounted armor-clad steeds, and took position atop a small hill. There, two Vaegir nobles were waiting: Lord Doru and Lord Meriga. The former was rather upset, after all, it was he who led the previous battle, which ended badly; only Malo's quick intervention saved the army from utter defeat. Though ultimately they retreated, Malo knew he crippled the Black Army - many of their cavalry was impaled upon the pikes of Malo's troops, and he personally dueled and won over their leader, Mogar Blasius. Afterwards, Meriga agreed that Malo should be the one to develop strategy for the upcoming battle; his hands free, the Admiral now intends to pave his road to fame and influence.

- Good day to you, Sir Malo and Lady Agnessa. - Meriga greeted them. - You came in good time; all our forces are in place. Just as you suspected, the enemy is taking up defensive position.
- Just look at them, shaking in their boots ! - Doru grunted. - Surely, slaying their champions in the last battle left a longing mark on them.
- Undoubtedly, Lord Doru. - Malo nodded. - Still, it would be unwise to blindly rush in.
- HAH ! - Doru replied. - A swift charge of my Knights, followed by the swinging axes of my foot troops is all I need to crush that lousy gathering of sell-swords !
- Sure, if strength was measured by bravery alone, no-one would ever triumph over you, Doru. But as you know yourself, the world is unjust at times. - Meriga showed a sarcastic smile.

Lord Doru swung his massive bardiche with anger, but kept his temper. Meanwhile, Malo looked around the field:

On their side, the Conquistadors and Vaegir elite troops took formation in the center: four rows behind each other. Rodeleros and Vaegir Guards in the front, then Tercio Pikemen, followed after by Crossbowmen and lastly Vaegir Archers. The elite core was accompanied by small masses of lesser Vaegir troops on its sides, shield-bearers with spears on front, axemen and archers next. Lastly the cavalrymen, the mighty Lancers of Vesapnia at the left flank and the Vaegir riders on the right. Doru was to lead the latter, Agnessa the former, while Malo and Meriga would stay behind and oversee the battle as it progresses.

On the opposing side, the combined forces of Aden, Swadia and the Black Army took positions. They were in a somewhat better position, holding a couple of hills, atop which Adenian archers and Swadian crossbowmen built small barricade-forts, even deploying a couple of catapults (put together rather hastily from the intended winter wood supplies of Rduna village, but that's beside the point). The infantry, mainly Black Army troops, formed a long shield wall, with some gaps left open here and there. The cavalry was waiting behind the lines of infantry. Malo thought the gaps were left open so the cavalry may launch charges if needed. Clever idea. The Vaegirs were not used to act in formations, and after a certain distance, the Rodeleros too would have to seperate from their pikemen brothers-at-arms; after all, their bucklers were made for infantry charge, not for actually shielding them from bolts and arrows.

What to do ? With properly executed maneuvers, the Adenians and their allies can easily shatter the core of Malo's army. Still, the Vaegirs were superior in numbers: over 11.000 troops, compared to the enemy's roughly 3400. However, the Black Army and the Adenian cavalrymen provided quite a challenge; in general, far better equipped and experienced than the Vaegir lot under his command. All things, Malo concluded that victory this time is surely in his grasp, but to earn it, he will have to make great sacrifices.

On the other side of the field, Kinisi, Lord Grainwad and Drekal Vald were plotting something...

Drekal's plan was to dress up as a Vaegir Veteran, mount a steed, with a 3 meters long, flexible wooden pole in hand, then, when the Adenian and Swadian riders launch a charge across the field, he'll accompany one of their groups, following a bit behind. When they are close enough, he'll stand up on the horse, and make a pole-vault jump, getting inside the enemy formation. Since, he reasoned, the cavalry charge will probably force the enemy infantry (at least some of them) to flee, nobody will notice him among the fleeing people, thus he can get behind the lines, find the enemy leaders, kill them, then steal a horse and through a big by-pass route, get back to the Adenian camp.

- I thought you were crazy, sell-sword, but now I am completely doubtless about it. - Grainwad buried his face into his palm.
- Many people said that to me, roundhead, but few of them are still alive. Now get that freakin' pole. And you Kinisi, make the big intro.
- On it, tiny.
- Call me that again and I'll stab your neck !
- Whatever, short stuff. - Kinisi wandered off.

He marched to a certain point, standing just in front of the troops placed in the center, facing the core of the enemy army; he battered his claymore's handle against his great board shield.

Malo shook a little at that sight. He remembered the giant warrior all too well; he remembered that this man, losing his sword at one point, picked up a Conquistador's massive pike, swung it, crushing away five Lancers at once ! And, when the pike broke, he grabbed a Vaegir Guard's corpse, and beat a dozen men senseless with it, until the leg, by which he held the carcass, separated from the rest of the body. Then somehow he got two war axes, and engaged in a brutal bloodshed until everything around him was torn to bloody pieces. Malo knew that the Black Army is far from a coherent guild; to him, they appeared like a union of many smaller warbands. Such rabble can be controlled only by outstanding leaders and champions. And, while taking out Mogar was probably a harsh blow, it didn't lead to dissent like Malo originally hoped; probably, he thought, nobody dared complaining to Kinisi (which, on a sidenote, was true).

Kinisi let loose his battlecry, his furious voice thundering across the field:

- Gods of war, grant me your power so I might SWEEP this rabble aside !

Malo looked up the sky. Birds of carrion were flying overhead. The hour has come.

- This is Admiral Alfonso Malo to all Vaegir and Conquistador forces ! Proceed as planned... and with God as your witness, wipe this scum from the face of the earth !

The Vaegirs and Conquistadors marched forward. Slowly but certainly. The cavalrymen on the flanks followed their example. At one point, the ranged troops stopped to let loose their volleys. The Adenians and Swadians responded with their own eagerly.

The rest still marching. Then, with fearsome precision, the first two lines of infantrymen began rushing at full speed, ready to pummel the shield wall. That was what the Adenians were waiting for. The pikemen fell behind with their heavy weapons and plates; time for the knights to do the bloody work. Roughly at the center of forces, Drekal was riding behind some Line Crushers, ready to perform his mad plan. Slowly, he stood up on the horse's back, pointing the pole forward... almost there... NOW !

- ...ouch.

The landing wasn't the best, but what matters, he was alive and breathing, and, just as he thought, nobody reaslly noticed him; everyone was too busy staying alive. Some to such extent that they were fleeing back to the pike-bearers' formation. Bingo !

He himself couldn't tell how he actually managed to dive his way through the masses of enemy troops, nor did he remember where, or rather, in whose back, did he leave a couple of his knives along the way. But he was there. Among the last rows. He saw officers, both on horseback and foot, running towards two mounted men, listening to their babbling, then departing. Aha ! That's how they deliver orders ! And those two must be the leaders. YESSS !

Running, running, running, howling:

- MALOOO !
- ...is something the matter, sergeant ? - Malo raised an eyebrow upon observing the strange newcomer.

Drekal ripped off his disguise fur clothing and helmet, revealing an armor of leather, with at least two-dozen small throwing daggers hidden in its specially-weaved sockets, and two short swords hanging by the belt.

- Alfonso Malo ! I, Drekal Vald, Second Captain of the Black Army hereby challenge you to a duel to the death to avenge the downfall of my comrade, Captain Mogar Blasius ! Refuse, and I will not hesitate to eviscerate you, mutilate your carcass and curse your soul to be dragged to the depths of the Void ! Questions ?!
- ...what sort of lunatic are you ?!
- Used to be a circus performer, but the audience didn't like me so I went psychopath-for-hire. Honestly, get a hold of yourself and answer, will you duel or not !?!

Everyone was puzzled and shocked; the sudden appearance of this maniac was totally unexpected. Lord Meriga was the first to respond:

- Why, it is a soldier's duty to fight and die for others' sake; and so to say, you of the Black Army are quite dutiful ! If it is death you seek, I shall be eager to deliver it !

He drew sword and charged at Drekal, but the grim captain easily jumped away and hurled a dagger at Meriga's back; afterwards came a flurry of more knives, aimed at the surrounding soldiers, who started dropping like flies.

- Soldiers, STOP ! - Malo commanded. - I shall deal with him myself ! Until then, every officer has absolute authority over their troops ! Now go ! - He turned to Drekal then, dismounting his own steed: - Drekal Vald, hereby I accept your challenge !
- 'bout freakin' time ! - Drekal yelled, getting a couple of beautifully decorated short swords ready. - You know, Malo... I like to play around with my victims if I can. Several dozen stings and stabs, all artistically placed... but you took away a friend; for that, you pay dearly.

Drekal's swords danced in his hands intimidatingly. Malo took up a defensive pose, his buckler held out, his sword pointing forward, ready to stab. Drekal smiled.

- A thousand cuts... you deserve a thousand cuts.

And so the two men clashed. For how long, none could tell; for them, felt like an eternity. Especially for Malo. His armor protected him, but not every area on his body; thus, eventually, he was bleeding in many places, while Drekal barely got scratched due to his fiendish speed.

No other choice left, Malo suddenly kicked Drekal away, drew his pistol, aimed and shot !

Missed.

But the loud sound, filthy smoke and smell of sulfur put Drekal on the edge; he jumped at Malo, wildly stabbing his shoulders, then, just as suddenly, he stopped.

- Malo... it is said you used "black magic" against Mogar... was that actually... this device...?
- Yes... - Malo answered reluctantly. - In my homeland... it is called pistol. Not magic, really. Just shoots cartridges... metallic projectiles... with the aid of black powder. Nothing more.
- Interesting. I'll take that as a souvenir, along with that toolset on your belt. General Matias Corves shall be delighted. Now, to finish this...!

SLASH.

- GAAAHH !
- The Admiral is not destined to perish this day. - so said a deep female voice.

Drekal got back to his feet; blood flowed from his forehead. Not a deep cut, but executed with fearsome precision. And the one who caused it was standing in front of him: a Nord woman in ragged clothes, with a thin, elegant two-handed sword in hand.

- Who the f* are you, **** ?! - Drekal yelled.
- Halla Mistwhisper of the proud Jotnar Clan. Now be gone, Raven of Carnage; your work here is done. I shall not let you kill Malo, but his pride is shaken, his body severly injured. He paid the price for his overconfidence, and he shall forget this fight nevermore. Depart in that knowledge.

Drekal almost exploded from anger.

- This man killed my friend ! I am not done here yet !
- Mogar Blasius is NOT dead. - Halla stated.
- I say, he- wait, what ?
- You are victim of misunderstanding, bloody-feathered raven. Why do you believe that the phrase "Mogar went to sleep" actually means death ?
- Don't mess with me, ***** ! It's a common poetic synonym for death, that's why !
- But it was Kinisi who wrote it, and as you may know, he's not renowned for talent in poetry.
- ...your point is ?
- Seek out Kinisi and ask him. Through him, you shall find your comrade, alive and breathing. Now go.

For a while, Drekal Vald hesitated; ultimately, he decided to heed the seeress' words. He turned away, seeking a horse, but Halla yelled after him one last time:

- Does your own death corcern you ?
- Nope. - Drekal answered. - Why ?
- Because I thought I should let you know: you will be killed by your own son.
- I never was a good father anyway.

With that he concluded the case, and rode off. Halla leaned above Malo, whispering:

- You will not die... not yet.

Drekal arrived back to camp by nighttime. As it turned out, the battle was officially lost by Aden, but due to the great losses on the Vaegir side, including the death of Meriga and the wounding of Malo, the enemy called it a day and halted advance, refusing to chase the retreating Adenian and Swadian troops. Also, a Swadian messenger arrived with orders to pull all forces back to defend Vyincourd Castle and the Adenian lands, respectively. All in all, fine enough outcome for the time being.

Drekal, however, was more interested about something else...

- KINISI ! Tell me, honestly: is Mogar alive ?!
- Why, yes !
- ...and where is he now ?
- At the end of his duel, when Malo shot him, he fell off his horse and became... what did the Wanderer say ?
- "Comatose". - Gabston Kollin helped out.
- Oh yes, that's it ! Comatose. A state of long sleep. He's being attended at Rduna village... hey, why the angry look ?
 
71. Back at home - II.

Hi, dad !

Like you asked, I have been keeping a sharp eye on your newest lapdog. And I wish to state you'll owe me extra pocket money for that !

Here's what I have cleared so far: the guy's name is (without doubt) Kastillo Boilas, of the Antarian noble household of Boilas (though he insists to be called "Kast" - you should learn from his example !). He's 'round 40 years old (says he doesn't bother to count anymore) and, from what I understand, he is a true old-timer - when the Antarians led a crusade against the Zerrikanians some 20 years back, he was already in service there. And his deeds in battle supplement his claims, so to say.

One of the most interesting thing about him is his faith. He used to worship The One (in fact, he climbed up to the rank of Paladin !!!) but by now, he turned away from "the false light, to embrace the truth that is the Void". Sound pretty... how do the Marinans say it ? Oh right: EMO.

During the home-defending war of Antaria against our - I mean, YOUR legions, dad, - he stood by the king's side to the very end; it was only recently that Gaius, the Legate officially pardoned him (after a short personal meeting, I might add). For a little while, he was a freelancer, then he asked if he could help you slaughter his own people. The rest you know.

He's pretty frightening. Never before have I met such an educated and strong-willed man who was so full of hatred. I asked why he actually broods so much, his answer was... well, I better write it down, I guess:

"Why ? Why. WHY ! Look inside yourself - THAT is why ! All of humanity is like this: greedy, untrue, rotten to the heart ! Only by now have I fully realized that Antaria is no different. Glory... vanquishing evil... shielding the weak... it's a bunch of lies made up to excuse the horrible deeds we have carried out in this world ! Such naive ideals justify NOTHING ! I could not bear this falsehood any longer ! The one thing, the ONLY thing in which my heart finds solace is the knowledge that other nations aren't any better. Thus I turned to the darkness of the Void, and saw through the lies: only in death does man find justice; with that in mind, my purpose in this world is finally clear. Where others see a newborn child, I see only a future corpse, and revel in this truth. As for you, daughter, I do not encourage you to follow in this dark trail, but mark my words: it was not The One who made the world like this... it was US."

Afterwards, I was so afraid that I refused to leave my tent for 2 days, and when I did, it was only cos' I was getting hungry. Dad, were you sober when you teamed me up with this madman ?!Gotta' admit though, despite his apparent lunacy, he single-handedly solved all our- YOUR problems in the Antarian region; no wonder though, he used to be a nobleman himself, so he knows who to seek, when, how, and where. Then 'woosh' at the neck, finito ! The leaders of Antarian rebels fall like leaves during autumn ! I wonder what he'll do afterwards though... I definately don't want to be around him by then. Hear me, dad ?!? By Marsus, why don't you let me to accompany a handsome Praetorian or something next time ?

Anyway, to sum things up: Kastillo holds up his end of the bargain (for now), but I remain mistrustful of him, for obvious reasons. Will be writing more later. Tell mother I love her ! Love you too, dad !

- Your ever-loving daughter, Philia
Roman Empire, Antares Province, near Gadha Castle, 1227. September 5.

PS: we've been though this. I'm NOT going to refer you to as "Pricus Renozus of the house of Renus, Centurion of the V. Legion of the Roman Empire" in front of others. "Dad" is shorter. Besides, like it or not, we're family. Period.

PPS: my bro', Pirhus from the Bastard Brothers company is also sending his greetings ! (-:

72: From the life of a king

My dear journal,

Yet again this was a day with many events. The life of a king never grows dull, so it seems.

I finally received the detailed report on the battle of Tadsamesh, delivered by an Antarian knight. Guess what ? It turned out that Mogar Blasius was NOT dead, just "comatose". Some sort of illness involving constant sleeping from what I understand. In any case, our mysterious mutual friend, The Wanderer gave instructions how to keep him alive, but couldn't do much else. The nursing was a bit complicated according to the Adenian knight - it involved chewing meals in advance, and feeding Mogar mouth-to-mouth. However, unless the feeder happened to be female, Mogar slapped the person. The problem was that even unconsciously, he hit quite hard - The Wanderer himself had his nose broken when he first showed how the feeding should be done. Ah well, considering Mogar's popularity among the ladies, the young peasant maidens probably didn't mind nurturing him. Still, even The Wanderer had no idea how to wake him up - but in the end, all turned out well: Mogar woke up just after Drekal Vald made him drink some odd brew. A Zerrikanian speciality, he said.

As for my beloved Adena, she yet again sent a personally written letter. Why, she's growing to be a confident and caring queen of her people, isn't she ? Though no wonder; I myself have to realize that kingship is not a game. Looking back at my earlier journal entries, well... guess Matias was right calling me a "princeling". In any case, she is urging a personal meeting as soon as possible. I couldn't agree more; not only I long for her companionship, but there are serious matters to discuss among ourselves regarding the future of our kingdoms.

With Mogar's return, the frontlines are probably safe again, though Drekal insisted on staying in New Aden to ensure "the idiot won't get himself killed... this time for real". He sent a gift of a sort, though; a weapon of fiendish power called "pistol", which put Mogar into coma in the first place. It was stolen from the Conquistadors' leader. We set up a dummy soldier (clad in armor) to test it. Hell, it's devilish craft indeed ! It pierced through the armor with ease, at least from a short range. And that smoke and foul stench that emitted from the barrel... Uhh ! A Keeper of The One, after observing the test, demanded the immediate unmaking of the weapon. Matias, on the other hand, seemed fascinated with the pistol and argued that it's not sorcery, just clever mechanics shooting metallic orbs with the help of black powder. During my studies, I became familiar with the nature of the black powder used by some Marinan and Zerrikan scientist, so I find Matias' explaination acceptable. Still, I'm in league with the sacred Keeper of The One. Such weapons should not exist in this world.

However, with Matias, no-one can argue. But he assured us that forging another such weapon is impossible (at least there is no blacksmith in the entire continent of Calradia who could do it), which settled things for the moment.

Afterwards though, I was approached by Ikarom Vinsed, a Guardian of The One. He expressed his worries over how I'm letting Matias to "worm his madness and corruption into thy young and naive heart". I was not suprsied at his speech. Remnants of the old clergy of The One have expressed their disapproval of my... "apprenticeship" since the very first day I let Matias sleep near the palace. Originally, I dismissed their opinion, thinking they are overreacting. I agree with Matias that some clerics are quite protective of their position of power (to which he poses a threat - or so he claims), but I highly respect the militant wing of the church - the Paladins, the Guardians, the Keepers - all those holy warriors blessed with valor and strength beyond human level. Still, what am I supposed to do ? I'm well aware who Matias is, and I'm indeed starting to worry that I may endanger both my subjects and my sanity by letting him too close for too long. But his wisdom, as sinister it may be, ensured the stability of our new kingdom. The Nords now fear us and the Swadians themselves are beginning to recognize us as a force to be recknoned with.

It's  getting late; I better retire to my bed chamber.

- Richard Stelhart
New Antarian Empire
Vis Solreas capitol city
1227. September 10.

...

My dear journal,

I had a horrible nightmare tonight. I don't really remember it but it was awful. All I recall is... a raven holding something in its beak, observing a female figure with a ghastly gaze; I heard my mother crying. And in the end, a powerful male voice, shouting with pure hatred, demanded a new, thicker bedroom door.

...yes. Kind of odd.

As such, I better forget about it and turn my attention to more important matters, such as the war against the Nords. Which is getting harder since new allies have appeared among their ranks: savage warriors with two-handed weapons, and more suprisingly, horse-riding warrior women ! At first I thought the reports were mistaken, but some days ago I myself had the opportunity to engage them. I felt quite... uncomfortable ? I don't know how to put it. It's just... wrong to hurt women ! My own soldiers thought the same, even as they were assailed by a hail of javelins and arrows. Our mercenary helpers, on the contrary, had no moral constraints. I still can't decide whether this is an advantage or not.

More pressing issue is that my scouts just reported the presence of... Villianese fighters. Or at least their shield heraldry was Villianese for sure. I can't wait for much longer if I am to accomplish my long-term plan: capturing Nord lands to the north would be a great benefit to us. Next time the Nords take their time to regroup, I'll take my chance and order an all-out attack upon Tehlrog castle !

On a sidenote, I acquired knowledge of what Drekal fed to Mogar. It's called "The glop of Burkassar"; Burkassar is a demon of the Void associated with the unearthly heat that torments those who journey through the Sahra desert in Zerrikania; however, those with a strong faith can shrug off the pain. A fitting name for the brewage, since whoever drinks it feels as if the fires of eternal damnation would burn and scorch every inch inside the body, especially in the throat and the stomach. It is usually used to neutralise poisons and test one's endurance in drinking contests.

- Rihard Stelhart
New Antarian Empire
Vis Solreas capitol city
1227. September 11.

73. Treachery knows no distance

So it appears that things are getting more and more complicated because of the "newcomers"... but at least in a way that I can use to my advantage. In addition, the months spent in the company of the Elephant Guard and the Villianese clansmen provided me valuable influence. Learning languages is indeed worth the time.

I can't say such positive things of the Black Horde, on the other hand. But I'll be rid of them soon enough: I've persuaded their leaders to launch an attack against Jamiche Castle in the Kingdom of Rhodok. While according to the latest report, they are proceeding well, I bet they don't know that soon Lord Kastor of Veluca will arrive and scatter them to the winds. I truly need to thank Kastor for this favor. No longer will I have to bother with these bandit-hearted Black Khergits.

Still, Sanjar won't be pleased with such losses unless I compensate with results on other fields. Speaking of fields, I just got an idea by looking upon the map. Distar Castle, Dashbigha, Saren, Serindiar, Ilvia and Emer... they are like a circle. And within this circle, there's absolutely NOTHING. Only barely habited steppes, some forests and regions of small hills. The area has more strategical than economic importance, but my Villianese allies don't have to know that.

Ah yes, the Villianese. I somehow arranged for their scattered bands to join together into a nomadic horde. But they can't stay nomadic for long; they want lands on their own, because they aren't used to such frequent changes of living space. Well, why shouldn't I gift them lands within that "circle" ? Maybe somewhere halfway between Saren and Dashbigha ? With that, I strengthen my partnership with them, as well as strengthen our position on the Rhodok and Swadian borderlands.

But that is not all. As I came to know, several Villianese clans sided with the Nords. I'm trying to establish contact with these northern clans; they may be of use to me. I've sent out two religious fanatics to earn their trust - one is Cliffcarver, a Chosen One, a plate-clad berserker; the other is Windrider, a Champion of Ancestors, a decent horseman. They both lost their clans (or should I say, gangs ?) during their journey from north- to south-Calradia, but that is now beside the point. These two warriors, plus Lethwin Far-Seeker's influence should be enough to divert the northener's attention from Rhodok to Swadia, allowing the Rhodoks to concentrate their forces south and push towards Narra. Then Sanjar will be forced to personally interfere...

And then there is the Serpent Host. Bhey Sukbathar turned down my offer for an alliance, but his adopted son, Pinar, was interested. If Sanjar were to die by Rhodok hands and I would seize leadership, I would grant the Serpent host their own territories in the steppes - right next to the Rhodoks, of course, so they (along with the Villianese) will keep the Rhodoks and Swadians in check while I would make order in the Khanate.

As for the Elephant Guard, they may be primitive, but they are honorable - so if Sanjar dies, they shall swear loyalty to me. I just love this kind of simplicity.

A devious conspiracy, isn't it ? It will take time for my plan to unfold, but it will be worth it. Finally, this is  my chance to truly harm Sanjar...

- Dustum Khan
Khergit Khanate, southwest of Bulugur village, 1227 September 30.
 
Alright, I'm making a nice process.

Apart from the "Faithless" one, all of the Religions are described in their own parts. For those who haven't noticed, I even made a seperate SPOILER titled "Parts about religions", which shows where can you find them :wink:

On a more important note, you guys may wonder when and how will the Romans actually rise to power and conquer all, if they screw up even against the Villianese Dutchy. Well...

Big things are brewing in the heart of the continent. Something that you have failed to see. But the Emperor has seen it. Even now, he presses his advantage. The attack will come soon...

PS: I'd be thankful if people would actually comment my work. This way I know if I'm doing things alright or I should reconsider a few things :wink:
 
sorry, ive been so busy playing the mod that i havent had time to read recently.  i will take the day off from M&B and read all the stories  :smile:

EDIT:  i just finished reading the stories.  are you sure you're not a proffesional writer?  :smile:
 
Thanks for the compliment, but I'm pretty sure I'm not one :razz:

True, I often wrote small or mid-length stories (some of which were various fan-fictions), made up my own RPG games/stories out of Lego (played only by my friends and bro :razz: ), participated in text-roleplaying, and so far, my skills were praised all trough the internet (I'm always open for constructive criticism of course). Yet, I don't consider myself a "professional" writer, as I never published any books at any publisher or downloadable writings on any local/international sites or newspapers (not to mention my English is not that advanced as of yet). I don't plan to earn a living by being a writer, but I'll probably continue authoring on a hobby level for a long while.

Back to "SoD: Journals": I put up a new part. A VERY important part. It seems as if the Romans were planning something...  :lol:
 
This is rather good i must say, clean, interesting and exiting all a story or many should be.

Keep up the good work.

Belzarius
 
Thanks, I'll try to do my best.

Two new parts up - and so, the RELIGIONS are pretty much finished ! That might not be too much now, but don't worry, the next episodes will be rather intense, I promise.
 
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