TEATRC tribute & universe expansion

[Captured Joe]

If I remember right, they were an unique unit in the army of Feodar Grozny himself, right?

[Feragorn]

Something like that, although I think you can buy them if you're a Vaegir vassal.

[Somebody]

Nope, you can only buy Standard Bearers from Vaegirs.

[Feragorn]

Ah.

[Weltschmerz]

They'd be good if there were more than one per regiment. The rest of the group is filled with Vaegir cossacks (who I regard much more dangerous, due to their gunslinging skills). Even in large armies I've never seen more than three of those prickers.

[Captured Joe]

Ah! That's really helpful, thank you!

[Feragorn]

Here's a bit of lore I just finished. Hopefully the beginning to a series featuring my current character.

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        It was a sunny day in the plains around Marienburg. Sir Caelus surveyed the area he had been ordered to patrol. Swadian forces were always snooping, trying to find an opening to retake their captured cities. A rider appeared in the distance, alone. Caelus frowned. He always sent out scouts in groups of two. As the man neared, Caelus saw that he was a Ptian, an auxiliary cavalryman from the converted vassal state of Ptia, far to the southeast. “My Lord.” The Ptian saluted and bowed his head. “A middling-sized Swadian war party, perhaps seventy or so, nears Marienburg from the east.” Caelus nodded. “Thank you, friend. Go and rest. We will intercept them in the morning. Seventy Swadians against forty Ellisians gives us quite favorable odds.”

   As the sun rose over the Calradian countryside, Sir Caelus’s forces were already marching east to meet the Swadians. Caelus meant to force the enemy to meet him at a place of his own choice, rather than have to fight close to the city and risk the surrounding villages. Once you’d captured an enemy city, those villages could harbor quite a few hostile farmers. As they marched, the sun rose higher, and soon Caelus could barely see the glint of sunlight on weapons and armor ahead of them. He arrayed his troops, Ptian cavalry to the flanks, Ellisian spearmen and his handful of Brigadiers in the center, and his archers and gunners skirmishing in front.

   The Swadians drew closer. They were not uniformed and armored Swadian troops, but peasant insurgents. They wielded maces and shortswords, not the pikes and greatswords of the Swadian line.  They had no formation, they just charged ahead as one rabble. Caelus thought they were like waves, to break on the rocks of his disciplined infantry. His skirmishers began to fire on the Swadians, some fell, others caught arrows on their wooden shields. They yelled and pressed forward, driving the archers and gunners behind the infantry for protection. Caelus spurred his horse and led his Ptians around the Swadian host. They fired arrows sporadically, waiting to charge in and smash the enemy from the side or rear.

   As the grizzled peasants smashed into the Ellisian line, they spread out, coming dangerously close to enveloping Caelus’s men. He charged with his Ptians at the rear of the Swadians, stabbing and hacking and slashing at unprotected bodies and heads. He thrust forward with his lance, taking a Swadian in the shoulder and stabbing through to the man behind him. This jerked the weapon out of his hand, so he drew his sword and leaned down to cleave through another man’s exposed back. Suddenly a thrown spear caught him on the pauldron and knocked him off his horse. Caelus landed on his back, hard.

   As his vision quickly cleared, he saw a Swadian, armored differently than the peasant rabble. He carried a huge flamberge, and was striding confidently towards Caelus. Caelus rolled to his feet and gasped as he recognized the man as none other than Sergeant Hershey, Peasant at War.

This can’t be… I killed him! I put a lance through his chest just last week!

        Caelus quickly whipped his broadsword up to deflect a blow that would have severed his left arm. “I don’t know what sorcery you infidels use to resurrect the dead, but it won’t stop me from killing you again!” Hershey laughed, a chilling sound that suggested Caelus was dangerously mistaken. “Try it, Filaharnist! Your false Pope knows nothing of power.” He raised Fafniel above his head and brought it down hard. As Caelus blocked with his sword, it snapped. Hershey stepped forward and kicked him to the ground. As he raised the flamberge to strike again, Caelus whipped the jagged sword hilt up and into the gap between Hershey’s breastplate and helmet. Hershey’s face curled into a snarl as blood gurgled out of his throat wound and mouth. He pitched forward, dropping Fafniel to the ground and crumpling into a heap. Caelus stood, shaking at such a close call and at what terrible magic must have been working to raise his foes from the dead to fight again.

   All around him, Ellisian spearmen and Brigadiers were eliminating wounded peasants with swift spear thrusts and swords across throats. Caelus looked down at Sergeant Hershey’s corpse. “Dismember and burn it.” He ordered. “Make sure no heathen black magic can touch this cursed body. Filaharn Vult.”

   As they rode back to Marienburg, a thin tendril of smoke rose into the sky behind them. Caelus didn’t look back.

[Captured Joe]

  Brilliant!

[Feragorn]

It wasn't supposed to be funny...

[Captured Joe]

Oh, but it reminded me of

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the countless times I killed a leader of an unique party, and he coming back alive some days later!

[Feragorn]

Yes, but that always happens... I just wondered what my character would think if he knew!

[Somebody]

Your character realizes that he, too is both victim and contributor to this vile sorcery which has enslaved Calradia?

[Feragorn]

Not yet. Just how he reacts to the respawns. I'm trying to make this follow the game I've got going, I'm about 100-something days in, and I keep fighting Hershey for the fun of it. I can't be the only one who seeks out the enemy commander before I kill anyone else.

[Shrugging Khan]

I always thought of them as members of the same race as the Hero, the Companions, and the Lords. Some species of supermen, unable to be killed unless the plot demands it.

[Feragorn]

Bit of new (ancient) lore to defibrillate this thread a bit.

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The following are a series of letters and related documents from various Early Calradic and Southland kings addressed to the Calradic King-Deity Iptar-Sin the Elder during his reign, roughly 1200 years before the Common Era. Some letters originate in the courts of the other Great Kings, thus they address Iptar-Sin as an equal. Others are from various kinglets, vassals of the main Calradic state, and address Iptar-Sin as a master and a god.
The letters were discovered in an ancient Ellisian genizah (archive), and most have the stamp of the Calradic royal scribes, attesting to their authenticity.

The Mylesian Cycle – Letters from the Mylesian client-king to Ellis, requesting assistance against Karaite bandits.
EG 08
Untash-Khumban sends to his lord, the King-Deity of the World, the Sun, my Lord; seven times and seven times I prostrate myself, I am the dust under your feet. Your minister has come and gone, he was not satisfied with my rule of your cities. Have I sinned against my Lord? I have been a faithful slave. Why does my Lord not see the plight of his stricken slave? The Karaite horselord, Azaru, the dog, the mongrel, continues to harry my caravans and kill my soldiers! It is said he has hundreds of spear armed nomads at his hand, and yet my Lord, the sun acts not against him. Not for my sake do I pray you to send assistance, for my own life is worth not that of a blade of grass, but your own Godly possessions, the lands, the cities, the towns, the cattle, do I pray. Ten archers would be enough to fortify your town of Kashgar, and ten more to Beshbalik, to secure your holdings. For your own sake do I stand and send my own possessions against the bandits. The dog shall not take what is yours, provided I am granted your grace enough to withstand him.

EG 14
Untash-Khumban sends to his lord, the King-Deity of the World, the Sun, my Lord; seven times and seven times I prostrate myself, I am the dust under your feet. Praise be to you who, in your infinite wisdom, saw fit to grant me ten of your archers! They have been garrisoned and posted on the city walls, any Karaite trembles to see them. The horselord, the dog, threatens the towns no longer. He yet preys on the caravans of silver and spices that I send to increase your wealth. My own son took his personal retainers, twenty strong, to escort these caravans to their destinations. I hear they have inflicted damage upon the vultures, such that they retire to lick their wounds when they even hear your name chanted as a battle-cry. I inquire after my Lord, the sun, after his welfare, and the welfare of his family. Is your wife well? Are your daughters? May you all live as long as the sun shines on the bones of your enemies!

EG 16
Untash-Khumban sends to his lord, the King-Deity of the World, the Sun, my Lord; seven times and seven times I prostrate myself, I am the dust under your feet. I am not worthy to breathe the air you created! The horselord, Azaru, the dog, the mongrel, the devil, has killed my men and taken your towns! My last refuge is the city Kashgar, where your grace and presence is felt even now, in this time of distress. I pray you, ride to relieve your slave, your worshiper, and drive the dog from our midst! The walls still stand, but all may be lost if your Holy Presence does not intercede. Daily sacrifices are made for your health, that you may smile upon your slaves, and preserve them.

Archivist’s Note: The historical record, and archaeological evidence suggests the city of Kashgar was taken by storm, and the inhabitants put to the sword. Iptar-Sin the Elder then retook the city, without much apparent effort, and instated a new vassal, Azaru’s own son.