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Codex of Eae't

999 2nd Age, Winter

February 22th - 1000 2nd Age, Spring

March 7th - 1000 2nd Age, Summer


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Hidden 4 yrs ago 4 yrs ago Post by AdorableSaucer
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Sun On-Yee, the Rising Tiger







Central marketplace of Midta, provincial capital of Midland, Eastern Gu-Wei...

“The marketplace’s louder than usual.”

“Oh yeah, didn’cha hear? There’s apparently a musterin’ goin’ on. Heard they was heading out west.”

It hadn’t even been a month. It was insane, really, how slow time went by when exposed to the new. Yet… Here he was - a nameless thug off the streets of Midta, not even a bei to his name, dropping eaves at the request of the kings of this city.

“Out west? Grandpa’s coffin, has there been another raid? I swear, it’s been happening every year now.” The distant spice merchant put his face in his paprika-dusted hands, leaving his brow a rusty red. “If the supply is cut, I’ll have to close down shop.”

“Nah, doubt it’s a raid this time - they can usually handle those. Still, I’m askin’ around for local farmers who grow rice. I’ll be damned if I’m switchin’ to millet this time’a year.”

Behind the grain merchant, in a dank alley of the marketplace where one would think the worst of scum was crawling, a silhouette added to the already abundant shadows. Young and deceptively scrawny, it was - human, awfully so. Black hair dressed his dark scalp, and on account of his rank, he wore little less than baggy, patchy linen shorts and an equally ragged tunic - he looked about as insignificant as he was.

“At least you have the option. What am -I- supposed to do? Use spice as currency?”

“Is any of that even yours, anyway?” the grain merchant chuckled and the spice merchant looked away.

“Let’s not delve any deeper into this, alright? They might hear.” Shifty eyes scanned the stalls’ surroundings and the scrawny human youngster squatted down, extended forth a hand holding a cup and bent his head. When the merchants’ eyes fell upon him, all they saw was a beggar.

Still, it was a poor disguise in the face of Middling veterans. Before he had the chance to look back, the scrawny lad could already that the merchants weren’t going to talk anymore that day. Eventually, he faced reality and stood up, disappearing into the darkness of the alley.

Hearsay, yes - information - was the greatest resource on the market; neither spice, silk nor gold could outbid it. Living as a fly on the wall could potentially make you richer than a merchant lord. To hear that little slip of the tongue - an unpaid debt, an unfavoured competitor, a fear of walking alone at night - all could be prospected and exploited like a Shajiang gem deposit.

That was what Sun On-Yee hoped he could have done, anyway, but now it seemed that he would go hungry another night. He groaned to himself - Alsamsan would likely scold him for his uselessness tonight. He could already hear it: “dog”, “leech”, “flea” - the usual treatment expected from a Lesser Pillar.

The unswept corridors between towering shops and houses carried him past beggars, pipeweed addicts, thugs of rival factions and other types On-Yee felt no need to interact with. While he hadn’t been living this live for very long, the inhabitants of the shadows had learned not to stare for too long.

Well, most of them.

“Oi!”

On-Yee’s quick pace slowed. Behind his back, he heard ragged soles slap against moist cobblestone littered with pools of urine. A hand like a boulder, down three fingers, did its best to grasp On-Yee’s shoulder tightly and spin him around. Without too much of a struggle, On-Yee complied and turned to face a mug with resemblance to a beat pulled fresh out of the ground: It was unnaturally red, dirty and covered with unsavoury growths. Another hand appeared between them and assumed a beckoning motion.

“Cough it up, son,” said the thief. Sun On-Yee smacked his lips sharply and spat on the ground between them.

“Cough up what?”

“Whatever you’ve got - unless you’d like to sleep in the gutter for the night.” The beckoning hand became a thick fist. From behind him appeared a pair of forward-leaning, skinnier scoundrels armed with what looked to be shivs. On-Yee grimaced - of course even this lump had friends.

“Look, I’ve got nothing - look at me, I’m not even worth selling to the Snaketongues!”

“The Snuh--... What’s that? You know something?” the fat thief asked. Oh, perfect, the bluff fell flat.

“Slavers, mate,” one of the scrawny ones said helpfully and ran a dirty rag over the somehow dirtier edge of his shiv. “Though I reckon they’d take anyone - even a shrimp like this. Might not pay handsomely for him, but bei is bei.”

“Bei is bei,” the other skinny one agreed. The fat one’s grip tightened, his two fingers digging into On-Yee’s shoulder.

“Bei is bei,” the fat one agreed with a smirk. “You’re coming with us, son--UGH!”

The thief keeled forward as On-Yee planted a powerful kick in his crotch long before he could react. On-Yee tossed himself forward, causing one of the scrawny ones’ strikes to stab the fat one’s arm instead, eliciting a squeal. On-Yee rolled to his feet just in time to toss himself backward to dodge a swipe from the third one; he then dodged another, grabbed a stool from a small food stall nearby and swung it as hard as he could. The thief, overcommitted to a forward lunge, had no way of ducking away. The first strike dazed; the second knocked out a number of teeth; the third left him squirming weakly on the cobblestones.

“Argh!”

“Mate, I’m so, so sorry, I--!” The fat one slapped the second scrawny.

“Go kill him, you daft shit! Ugh!” Leaving the fat one to nuzzle his bleeding arm, the second scrawny gulped and slowly approached On-Yee with quivering steps. They had assembled quite a crowd now, all denizens of the alley peeking out of their homes or gathering in the streets to cheer on the spectacle. On-Yee smirked cruelly, squeezing his grip tighter around the stool he had taken as a weapon. His opponent appeared frozen, and On-Yee seized that opportunity to arm himself with the knocked-out thief’s shiv. His opponent hesitated even more now, but eventually lunged. The strike was undisciplined and desperate, adequate in speed and strength, but lacking in accuracy. It flew wide, right past On-Yee, leaving the knife’s owner to the fate of an incoming slam with a stool. The strike hammered him to the ground, from which he immediately tried to rise. On-Yee gave him not a second of peace, slicing at the back of his shins with the shiv. The thief squealed and howled in unison with the cheer of the crowds, but before On-Yee could finish him off, the fat one grabbed him from behind and lifted him up before tossing him to the ground again. The fall knocked the air out of On-Yee and he dropped the stool. The fat one placed his foot on On-Yee’s ribcage, but just before he could press his weight down and break it, On-Yee dug the shiv he still held deep into the thief’s thigh. The fat one once more squealed and skipped backwards before falling over and knocking himself out on the cobblestone.

The crowds exploded into loud applause. On-Yee slowly got to his feet and winced. Seems that the fat one had managed to break a rib after all. He dabbed a moist spot on the back of his head. He looked at his fingertips and found them red. He looked down and noticed his head had landed right next to a slightly protruding cobblestone - a little more to the left and it could’ve been the end of him. He swallowed and whispered a silent prayer to his unnamed ancestors before giving the thieves a glare. He shrugged to himself and began looting their pockets. The one still conscious dared not do anything other than lie still and pray he wouldn’t bleed out. In the end, On-Yee found little more than a few bent coins and mouldy jerky. He pulled the mould off the jerky and gave it a half-hearted chew, then a wholehearted one as he realised it was tougher than expected. With lunch secured, he went on his way.

The endless alleys eventually became a two-floored shack, in front of which was a suspiciously empty lot that told anyone too curious to approach to turn right back around. On-Yee gave the angles over his shoulders each a quick glance before approaching the shack’s door, which, by the way, was much too fancy in comparison to the walls around it. He gave the door three knocks, a kick and then another knocks. A slot slid to the side slightly above the centre and revealed a pair of squinting, dark eyes complemented by darker skin.

“Crouching tiger...” came a stern voice. On-Yee groaned.

“Gemlosan, it’s me! C’mon, it’s been a month, can’t we drop--”

“Crouching tiger…?” On-Yee rolled his eyes.

“... Hidden dragon.”

The door gave a tired groan as it slowly swung inwards, revealing a tall man with a mean mug and roughly a hundred and fifty jin of muscle to back that up. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

On-Yee huffed. “How much longer until you trust me, huh?”

Gemlosan scowled. “Way longer than a month, kid. Now get in.” The man slapped On-Yee inside and shut the door behind him. Inside, three teens about On-Yee’s age sat squatting around a small fire, watching the slow broil of a skimpy trout on a simple gridiron. In the corner upon a small stool sat a one-eyed muckling, scowling harshly at everything in the room. The floor was unswept cobblestone - one would think one never had left the streets; the walls had seen better days, but at least the scent of mould had grown familiar; the roof keeled slightly downwards at the centre. All in all, with the exception of the door, the word shack fit perfectly when describing this sorry excuse for a building. Another two doorways led out of the room: One doorway draped in a curtain of threaded beads, above which hung a sign labeled “To the restaurant”, and another door, this one of plain wood with no label. The three lads gave On-Yee greeting nods, which he returned. Another slap pushed the boy forward and he shot Gemlosan a glare.

“What? What?!”

“Boss wanted to see ya.”

On-Yee huffed. “Couldn’t you just’ve said that? I know where he is.”

Gemlosan flared his nostrils, a smirk revealing itself. “Do ya now?”

On-Yee blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean? What’re you getting at?”

The tall man tapped his temple smugly. “Let’s just say that you haven’t been the only one out spyin’ today. Enjoy your chat with the boss now.” With a deep giggle, he shuffled off through the doorway draped with the bead curtain. On-Yee swallowed and looked behind him towards the wooden door. He first stepped over to a basin of somewhat smelly water. He dabbed a piece of cloth in the water and began cleaning his wounds, then wrapped his ribs in a roll of linen. He dipped his hands into the water, rubbed his face clean and cleaned out his nostrils. He tugged his tunic until it looked somewhat presentable and patted his pants. As he grabbed the door handle, one of the lads around the fire said, “Good luck, bro Sun.”

On-Yee stopped and looked at him, eventually smiling half-heartedly back. He opened the door and stepped inside.

The room was dark, windowless. The only source of light was a single lamp left on the floor, valiantly making a stand against the overwhelming shadow. Squinting, On-Yee could barely see the outline of a pair of legs seated not too far away from the lamp, most likely in a seiza position.

“Approach, Sun On-Yee.”

On-Yee swallowed again. Slowly, he made his way over, his feet feeling a number of obstacles littering the floor. Avoiding them to the best of his ability, he eventually found a spot opposite of the outline to sit down. A hand dimmed the lamp’s already weak flame and On-Yee’s eyes eventually adjusted: The outline was weak, but it was evidently bearded and wildly uncombed, topped with the broad, bulbous hat of a Middling merchant. The clothes appeared baggy, but no details of their colours were revealed in the darkness. A while passed before the voice spoke, “Your failure at the marketplace. Explain.”

On-Yee frowned. “W-well, I…”

“Your spot was completely out in the open.”

“I was in an alley, I--!”

“Did you hide behind any clutter?”

“N-no…”

“A wall, then, perhaps?”

“I-I tried, but the angle was wrong…” On-Yee felt himself begin to sweat.

“Ah, I see, you thought you could trick them into believing you were just some innocent, loitering thug minding his own business, hmm? Is that it?”

On-Yee didn’t answer. The voice drew a long, disappointed breath. “Sun On-Yee, the merchants who fall for that trick man no stall in Midta. If that’s the manner of behaviour you classify as stealth, then you will pack whatever garbage you own and leave for Bast or some other gullible riverland city tonight, is that clear?”

On-Yee cleared his throat. “Y-yes, sir.”

“What was that?”

“Y-yes, master Alsamsan.”

“That’s better. Don’t think that you are anything special just because the Lion took pity on you. You are a dog, do you understand? A flea, to be scratched off the skin of greater men.”

On-Yee clenched his fists. A bubbling fury was roaring within him, with no valve for release. The insults kept hammering at his soul like a shower of stone. He never felt he had had time to build up a considerable sense of pride yet, but what he had was being pressured to the point of weapon’s grade hardness.

Yet to lash out against a superiour would mean his death, and he was certain nothing would please Alsamsan more than to leave his butchered corpse in the gutter.

“A month has passed, maggot,” the shadow snapped. “A month has passed and you cannot even drop eaves properly…”

“With all due respect, master Alsamsan, I am not a spy - I’m a fighter and--!”

“Oh yes, a fighter - exactly what made you so precious to the Lion to begin with! He must’ve seen a sweet little cub in you - meant to one day grow into the fiercest beast in all of the triads. Well, think again, you leech, for he placed you with -me-, and that means you’re on spy duty.”

The watery trickle of something foul-smelling dropped into an unseen cup and Alsamsan drew another breath. “That will be all, Sun On-Yee. You’re going to the docks tomorrow. If you can’t get me anything of value, then you can leave your little finger on your way out.”

On-Yee swallowed nervously. Wordlessly, he bowed his head and went back to the door. Once he was on the other side, he leaned up against the wall next to it and slid down into a squat. He groaned and buried his face in a palm.

“Shit, what’d you do to piss him off that bad?” came a voice. On-Yee looked up to see the grinning face of Fabonsan Yogmir. At least there was some joy in this world - not even the suffering of the streets could sap the joy from that smile. On-Yee couldn’t help but smile back, even if the effort was weak.

“I dunno. Maybe he was in a bad mood already?”

“Sunny, the day Alsamsan isn’t in a bad mood is the day the Midland Sea will swallow the world and the mucklings will kill us all.” He held out a flat palm to the muckling in the corner. “No offense, by the way.”

A gurgling croak was all the response they got, but the muckling’s expression seemed to indicate that it was rather used to being described as a lowly savage. It returned to polishing an unproportionately long knife, the motion making On-Yee a little nervous. Fabonsan clapped him playfully on the cheek to regain his attention.

“So, what’d he tell ya?”

On-Yee hesitated. “W-well… He said that, uh… He said that if I fail to get anymore information, I’ll be out of the triads.”

“Down one finger?”

On-Yee flexed a held-up pinkie. “Down one finger.”

“Yikes… Someone needs to get that guy a sense of humour - and maybe a night with Fasurdor or someone. Man doesn’t get out enough.”

On-Yee giggled quietly. “Shit, man, don’t say that kinda nonsense when I just got out of a bad scolding, a’ight?”

Fabonsan nudged him lightly in the side. “Oh please, if I wanted to get us in trouble, I’D SPEAK A LITTLE LOUDER ABOUT ALSAMSAN’S NEED TO--!”

“SSH!” On-Yee demanded and covered Fabonsan’s mouth, unable to stop cackling to himself. There was silence, save for the three lads grilling their trout and the muckling’s sharp tugs of cloth over metal. Then came an approaching sound from behind the wooden door. On-Yee and Fabonsan looked at one another before they sprinted into the restaurant behind the curtained doorway.

The restaurant was abuzz with activity, the majority of the clientele being the unsavoury type - a bit like they themselves were: They all had at least one sharp object on their hips; their eyes looked as though they had seen a thousand battles and their fingers, a hundred thousand purses; and speaking of fingers, the average number of fingers per two hands appeared to be roughly around nine. Ducking and dodging their way between tables and occupied stools eventually brought the pair to the doorway, which, too, was curtained with beads on string. They exited into the open streets of Midta, Carpenter’s Lane, and drew deep, panting breaths. The crowds around them quickly lost interest for why two young men suddenly had burst out of a humble noodle restaurant, and went about their days. On-Yee and Fabonsan looked at each other and snickered.

“You ass. I’d be dead if he’d come after us.”

“Pfft. He never leaves his room - like he’d chase down a pair of rookies over some banter. Come on, let’s get a drink. The Drunken Muckling should be opening now.”

“Huh, so it should,” On-Yee agreed and followed Fabonsan down the street. Lining the road sat a number of beggars, human and muckling, side-by-side. A muckling sage was chanting in their guttural tongue, the beauty of the melody wasted on human ears. In its hands, the muckling rubbed pieces of bone. On-Yee frowned curiously at the creature before Fabonsan pulled him along.

“Don’t stare too hard, Sunny - auguring Mucklings ain’t nothing to stare.”

“Auguring?”

Fabonsan nodded. “My ma used to say the Mucklings got this special sight they can use when they talk to their gods. Lets them see what’s yet to come. However, if you distract them, they’ll look at you, and they’ll see how you die. Then, they’ll tell you.”

On-Yee looked back. The Muckling sage’s eyes were fixed firmly on the bones, though he could feel that, somehow, it was glaring fiercely at him.

"By the way, how's your back?" Fabonsan asked.

"Huh? Oh, that. Yeah, it stings a bit still." As if to prove the point, On-Yee rubbed one of his shoulders.

"That's normal. The ink needs time to settle and grow familiar with your body. You want it to sit, after all. What’d you pick?”

“Huh?”

“What motif, dumby! What’d you pick?”

“Oh, uh… A tiger.”

Fabonsan gave him a frown, then a long, drawn-out, monotonous hum. On-Yee blinked.

“What?”

“No, it’s just… Not very, uh… Original, ‘s all.”

On-Yee huffed. “What do you mean? It’s the animal of the triads!”

“Uh, yeah! Exactly. Wow, you actually went with--... Is it because of the Lion? Are you going to be the Lion’s Tiger, is that it?”

On-Yee blushed so much that a pair of bypassing ladies giggled at him. “N-no! ‘Course not! It’s just--... I really like tigers! They’re strong, fierce, beautiful.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Fabonsan replied and sighed. “Ugh, here I was hoping you’d pick something more… Personal. Something other than the actual animal of the triads. You could’ve been the Shark, or, or… The elephant!”

“There’s already an elephant, though,” On-Yee protested.

“Yeah, but for every elephant, I can guarantee you that there are twenty tigers.”

On-Yee rolled his eyes. “Ugh… Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d actually pick a tiger! Well, either way, now you’ve gotta live with it. Look on the bright side - the Lion may have a soft spot for clichés?”

On-Yee rubbed his eyes and groaned. Fabonsan patted him supportively on the shoulder. “D’aaw, cheer up, Sunny. We’re here.” On-yee looked up to see the red doors of the Drunken Muckling winehouse, the outside littered as usual with drunkards and vomit and drunkards in vomit. On-Yee took in the smell and cringed. Oh yeah, this was familiar.

“You’re buying the first round, right?” Fabonsan asked with a grin.

“Wait, why?”

“‘Cause you’re the one that got scolded, of course. Loser buys drinks.”

On-Yee frowned. “I didn’t know this was a competition.”

Fabonsan smirked. “It is now.”

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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Slagar
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Slagar Lord of Disappointment, Witch King of Saltmar

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=-=What Began in Spring, 998 Spring 2nd Age=-=


The Grand Duchy of Muoarma had been busy with a fury of debate over the last few months, as the Grand Duchess Marsha Penosbaug had called a sudden meeting of her court and advisers within the grand palace at Aedeth Mar, capital of the country. Marsha had hinted amongst her court over the last year of a military campaign, and even openly challenged the coalition against Muoarma, but never revealed to her court her true desires on the matter, but made it openly clear she had been planning a war against one of its members. Court advisers however were rather puzzled by these turn of events, as Muoarma’s guilds and rich nobles seemed more interest in trade reform then going to war. Many in the court wondered if Marsha had plans to march on Olma, or to punish Muha, or even march an army to occupy the Okke lands in order to gain access to the lake.

Yet, when Marsha began a court session in the opening months of spring, she began with a speech. “My lords, ladies, and other members of high esteem.” She began in a cold and elderly voice, the elder Grand Duchess spoke as the room of her court grew quiet. “For the previous year I have heard you bicker over what I intend to do this year, and so you will wonder no more. I have decided I will hold an election for Consul this year for two amongst the dukes of Muoarma to stand forth and defend the realm’s interest and to command her armies. The election will happen this spring, and this is to be my decree. The dukes of Muoarma will present their votes by mid spring and those who do not attend the vote I shall vote in their stead. Baron Tazberd, step forward and present the country’s wishes.” There was a nod from a fat and well dressed man, Tazerd Neskerbaud, in the crowd who stepped forward, his pounding footsteps rang with authority as he read aloud the formal declarations and requirements for Consul. Marsha watched the room as her court silently began to speak amongst themselves, and several others left watched from affair in black clad and fine robes, nodding to Marsha from afar.

Marsha’s command was spread far and wide in Muoarma, reaching the lands of Zengher, as a fast courier arrived before Duke Nausk Gotembaug was about to ride off to the Olma border to meet with some elves. Nausk was a bit surprised to receive the news, and summoned his family to consul him. Goaded by advisers and family, as the Gotembaugs had a long history of prestigious consulships in the past and Nausk saw great political opportunity in the title, he set off with his elite bodyguards and a brother, Jude Gotembaug. Nausk however, before arriving in Aedeth Mar, turned his bodyguards to ride to Souk Mar first, and rode to meet it’s duke, Galan Sanderbaug. Galan had been a good political friend of Nausk and the two had been on friendly terms, primarily due to Galan and Nausk having had been the only two dukes who had been personally disgusted with Marsha’s rise to power, a secret they both held. While Galan held the cheated Tesan Penosbaug and his family in his palace as guests, the two nobles often bickered with one another. Nausk personally invited Galan to a political alliance to secure the Consulships for themselves, and Galan readily agreed. Once things were settled in Souk Mar, both lords made off at once for the capital.

However, when Nausk arrived in Aedeth Mar, he had spotted the banners and men of Gaszbam. Nausk knew who else had come when he first entered Aedeth Mar’s gates, the Imperator of the Highlands. Nausk tried to secure his horses to a nearby stable, but he and his men were routinely bullied by the aggressive rabble of Gaszbam’s Uesbergan, who due to the poor state of their ducal territory looked more like well armored bandits then soldiers. Eventually, a deal was settled after some tense moments, with a stablemaster directing the party of Nausk to a nearby stable on the other side of the city, which the ever cautious Nausk agreed to in order to avoid a fight. In the true fashion of the lords of Zengher, Nausk approached the grand palace of Aedeth Mar and walked into the court of Marsha Penosbaug, and declared his intentions of becoming Consul. However, just as shortly as Nausk declared his intention and Galan would rise to speak, the court was interrupted when the thunderous armored steps of Garlor Olo Veunbera, Duke of Gaszbern, entered the main hall. Garlor had been nearly a foot taller than those in the room, a hulking man of great size and a true soldier, in a ceremonial armor allowed on the palace grounds and a square mustache which went down into his mouth. Garlor declared in a boisterous and rousing screech his participation in the election for Consul as well. Garlor gave a deathly stare at an unintimidated Nausk, who only stared back in impatience, the two rivals remained silent and distant from each other during their stay in Aedeth Mar’s palace.

It was only until Nausk left and made his way outside the palace to begin his campaigning did Garlor speak up to him. “Coward!” He shouted at Nausk. The two men, flanked by bodyguards looked tense, Nausk looked at Garlor and gave an annoyed sigh. “Not many have called the Gotembaugs cowards, and fewer today have survived to continue such a claim.”

“Yet there you stand, still giving alms to a regicide.” Garlor spoke venomously. Nausk snapped back at him “Regicide? Was a young babe also a regicide, household servants, elders, and other family members who shared no parts in that rebellion?” Garlor gave a nasty grunt “They are guilty by blood, you infernal wheat diddler, I will damn well make sure I bury this campaign of yours in the chamberpot where it belongs.” Garlor and his guard, having said their peace and some further jeers left, and both parties drifted to go about their campaigns. As Nausk and Galan stayed in the capital, Garlor had left and made his way directly to Edgk.
______________________________________

The campaign had come down between two obvious factions, the Gotembaugs and Olo Veunberas, with the Gotembaugs being a very clear cut winner. Too many dukes and lesser lords trusted and liked the Gotembaugs for their long reign in Zengher and their excellent military service. To Nausk, the difficulty was to get Galan elected alongside him. Nausk knew full well that his support in Zengher and western Tannis secured him as a Consul, that was not up for debate, Galan had support in Jentre, but in order to secure his consulship fully, he needed the support of eastern Moasmar, or even Edgk. Nausk and Galan decided to stay in Aedeth Mar for awhile, meeting with nobles who had come to look over those who were running for Consul, and as luck would have it, Nausk and Galan were invited to a group outing of nobles within the city’s entertainment district to an art show off of the local famed painter, Guilam Reasbaug.

During the showing, Nausk and Galan were approached by three higher nobles who exchanged pleasantries, but then got to the point of wishing to support Galan for Consul, but under specific conditions. The three nobles were barons from Tannis, who had promised to support the Gotembaug agenda, for a favor. Nausk had suspicions, and asked what the favor was, which the Tannis nobles often deflected. When Nausk threatened the nobles after getting annoyed with their demands and vagueness, they told Nausk they had wished for both him and Galan to support a decentralization faction using their newfound powers, and to perhaps to support a coup. Nausk had felt insulted and dismissed the nobles, and after some mutually exchanged threats, both Nausk and Galan left the city to begin winning support amongst their intended targets.

Nausk and Galan visited a number of nobles, but during their travels, attending many parties and writing letters, both received news. Two new contenders had sought to become Consuls as well, and the date for the Consulship vote had moved back by several weeks. Of the new contenders had included Garlor’s son and heir, Tanberg Veunbera, and the duke of Tannis. Nausk was outraged, as Tanberg was not allowed lawfully to run for Consul since he wasn’t a duke, and set off once again to Aedeth Mar for answers, and summoned a judge of the city to oversee the case. Yet, when Nausk re-entered the city, the judge he summoned arrived late, informing him already that Tanberg’s election issue was fully legal. In fact, it had been written into law the previous year, which further raised Nausk’s ire. Nausk was also confused as to why the other peaceful and trade obsessed lords of Tannis would also run for election. Nausk and Galan met back up outside the city and split up, with Galan heading to northern Tannis to try to secure support, while Nausk returned to western Tannis to reinforce his own.
______________________________________

Behind the scenes, Marsha Penosbaug had been busy with both internal and external politics, and her motives concerned her neighbors of Muha and Olma the most. Already, the Olman and Muhan army were mustering after Marsha’s announcement, both nations knowing that the calling of two Consuls may as well have been considered an act of war, but what had surprised her foreign enemies was when two ambassadors visited both Olma and Muha, demanding them to meet with the Muoarmans in Aedeth Mar, who sent ambassadors of their own. While in route to Ok’va, the Muhan Ambassador was advised by his Muoarman peer to avoid the region, as the ever isolated Okan would just as much throw them into the sea then talk. Much to the reluctance of the elven diplomat, the ship carrying them sailed toward Aedeth Mar instead and both ambassadors arrived and met with Marsha during an arena event dubbed ‘The Coming Glory’, where three Okan gladiators fought two Muoarman knights to a cheering crowd.

Marsha took the ambassadors aside after an interlude of the event, asking their opinions on their alliance with Ok’va. The Olman ambassador spoke mildly of the Okan, with the elven ambassador showing more clear disgust. Marsha summoned an adviser from her merit council, Lorgan Burges, an older man with a white eyepatch which both ambassadors recognized, having appeared in their own courts as a spy in their ranks. Apparently, the man had been a double agent, and told Marsha of the economic troubles faced by Olma and Muha in general, the two talked in an insulting tone of the two nations. Olma felt isolated in both trade and diplomacy, causing a decline for years and constant stress of it’s nobles, and Muha had recently gone through a vicious cycle of crop failures of their wine industry, partially caused by incompetent elven master winemakers using outdated techniques. Both nations had tried to keep these issues secret, but with a double agent in their ranks, Marsha seemed to have known these issues for years.

The Olman ambassador demanded answers from Marsha and her agent, and Marsha had a weak grin, offering the ambassadors a number of lucrative deals. For Olma, a trade partnership to supply Olma with resources for it’s craftsman at a low price, paid for by the Muoarman treasury, and a more open trading policy with the nation along with a peace agreement. For Muha, Marsha offered a sizable bribe, thousands of coins to help in the recovery of the Muhan economy along with a similar peace deal. When the Olman ambassador then demanded to know what the Grand Duchess wanted, guessing that it was a break up of the coalition, Marsha surprised him by saying that she wanted to not touch the coalition, but rather, to just break off a ‘useless member’ of it. She debated that the Okan had a history of treachery and would at any opportunity try to betray their alliance. The Muhan ambassador was quick to agree with this, but it took a good deal of time for the Olman ambassador to agree. After some further debates and hammering out specifics, the two ambassadors were sent back home with Marsha’s deal; Prosperity for Ok’va. For the deal to work however, the betrayal of the small marshland backwater had to be kept secret.

Once Marsha was done with her external part of her plan, she became more dedicated to her internal part, choosing the Consuls who would lead the war against Ok’va. Marsha was confident of victory, but needed a victory that wouldn’t be costly and wanted only the best Consuls. However, her two best Dukes and military men were rivals who would do pretty much anything within the law, supposedly, to keep the other out of the prestigious position. Marsha was informed of Garlor paying a huge bribe in the city of Aedeth Mar to the local Guild of Law, allowing his son to also be in the election, and that Garlor had convinced both the dukes of Edgk and Tannis for partial support. The Guild of the Studded Collar also had high hopes for Garlor, as they were paying and supporting his campaign, due to Garlor’s history of putting down a slave revolt with relative ease. Marsha wanted both Garlor and Nausk as Consuls and set out to further manipulate events in her favor.

Marsha knew support for Nausk had lowered due to Garlor’s intrigues, but yet the man had endangered his own campaign by running his son, splitting his support. Marsha secretly met with a number of nobles of Moasmar during another gladiator event, but before the match had started, she had made a speech praising the Gotembaugs for their long standing support for the Grand Duchy and long standing loyalty, hinting to the nobles and others in the audience her support for him. However, of those in attendance were the nobles Nausk had met during the art showing, who left in a huff back to Tannis shortly there after. Marsha then met with representatives of the Guild of the Studded Collar, whom she had a previous negotiation with, and hinted strongly for them to back off their full support for Galor and leave the election to her. Getting the hint quickly, the guild abruptly ceased many of their political operations and handed much of their resources over to Marsha’s inner circle and agents.

Marsha sent Lorgan to deal with Garlor’s son and to convince him of reason, and warning of Nausk’s impending victory should his father remain politically foolish. Lorgan made his way to Edgk where he met with the impassioned and also very angry young lord who had been bickering with Edgk’s nobles. Edgk’s nobles wanted a lot in order to gain their support, and were always demanding more, especially coin and favors. One noble had come to Tanberg demanding her marry his daughter, a ugly and infirm girl, or he would withdraw his support. Lorgan was able to pull the lord aside and talk with him, and then inform him. Tanberg, at first reluctant and refused to go along with Marsha’s grand scheme, was eventually convinced when Lorgan drew on Tanberg’s young and impassioned heart for his family’s loyalty to the Penosbaugs, and that Consulship was not always a good idea for young and inexperienced lords. The next week, Tanberg met with his father and explained he had no wish for equal command, and understanding his son’s stress and hearing his stories of his failures to draw in Edgk’s nobles to his side, he agreed to allow his son to drop from the race, and took over the campaign and focused on getting his new found ally, the Duke of Tannis, as his co-Consul.
______________________________________

Ok’va was celebrating a wedding, and all the southern and coastal noble heads of the country were busy celebrating in the halls of the wooden and creaking palace of Cousberg. King Toag Flekbatter had hosted the wedding for his son and heir, Mungan Flekbatter. Mungan had been visiting the lands of the powerful nobleman, Bran Gray, and had married his eldest daughter, Senga Gray. Mungan and Senga had been romantically involved for a few years, but it was Toag who had suggested the marriage, since the Flekbatters and Grays were both powerful families, and the act would promote stability. Mungan agreed at once, and had taken his would be wife to the capital and had both a Cesavii priest and a druid of the old faith consummate their marriage. Now fully husband and wife by the grace of the faith and old traditions did the Grays realize one of their own was missing, and went to the capital to celebrate the marriage. Bran and Toag watched from a high table in the palace’s wooden dining hall, as Okan nobles and youngsters danced to the music of the wedding.

As Toag watched his son and wife dance to their heart's content amongst the happy squeaks and cheers, Bran and another coastal noble named Corc Wiagman pulled Toag aside. Bran was an elderly and gray creature, a veteran of many clan conflicts and one of the most powerful nobles in Ok’va alongside his equal Corc, a rich Ok’van nobleman with a sizable army and owner of a sizable chunk of peak quarries which made the Wiagmans very rich by Okan standards. Bran consulted his king, personally scolding him on recent events, specifically the raised taxes which had drawn grave anger from other nobles.

“Toag, you and I both know that the others are still unhappy about all this, we are neither rival or enemy, but I must question as to why we must pay more to the cr---” Bran had started, gripping a wooden cup more hard then one normally would. Toag reacted in his ever poor mood.

“Bran, this is a weddin’, a union between our two houses, why get your knickers in a twist over such stupid things like money?”

‘Because my king, we need that money, and you have no told us why you need more of our hard earned income.” Corc replied harshly. Toag grunted at the comment, insulted. “Ye best keep your mouth with good words, Lord Wiagman, or I have all means to call you a traitor here an’ now.”

“I meant no offense my lord!” Corc quickly exclaimed, he shook a bit but eventually calmed. Toag shook his head “I’ll hear no more of this, from either of ya, here and now. If ya have an issue for me bein king and doing what I do in Ok’va, ya can explain it to me when I am on my throne. We aren’t those wretches in Muoarma, speakin all informal like on politics behind some scene.” Toag returned to the party, happily embracing the mood. Bran and Corc silently returned, although neither were happy.

Bran eventually was able to pull Mungan to the side later during the feast, he and his son-in-law had a heart to heart, but despite having many agreements, Mungan proved as rash and arrogant as his father, much to Bran’s personal distaste, which he hid well from the young Okan. Mungan was oblivious to Bran’s spite, and it seemed to break the elder noble’s heart. After some final farewells between Bran and his daughter, he and Corc left for their own lands once again.
______________________________________

The rivalry between the Soukian Trader’s Coalition and the Guild of the Studded Collar had flared up again, but in a much more deadly way. A trader and agent of the Trader’s Coalition had been trying to open the Ok’van markets of Peat and Marsh Herbs, with the herbs being a well sought ingredient amongst Muoarman alchemists and brewers for both it’s soothing spicy taste and it’s partial healing properties. The market had been closed for generations since the invasion of Edgk, the Ok’van traders refusing to go outside their own borders, even in friendly territory. The agent had been able to secure a partial route from some smugglers, who operated out of a bordering fishing community. However, this community was attacked as the agent pulled into it’s dock by the Guild of the Studded Collar’s well paid professional hunters, who had been eyeing the community for awhile.

Much of the community had been rounded up and shipped off to the market at Aedeth Mar, and the hunters had not only bullied the Trader Coalition’s agent, but had also burned all of his wares, which gravely insulted the traders amongst Souk Mar. In response, the Souk Mar traders protested the slave market in the city, and then rushed it’s podium. A guild paid auctioneer was pulled aside by armed thugs and was lynched in a back alley as the traders tore the stand apart and then killed some of the slaves it had been holding for sale. The guild demanded retribution, and other factions began to hound both sides to escalate.

However, much to the surprise of the leaders within the Trader’s Coalition, the Guild had not sent normal responses, as in, their responses seemed cheap and non-confrontational. The guild appealed to the Guild of Law in Souk Mar through official channels, and then tried to demand compensation for losses. When the traders refused, the guild sent young bandits and thugs to harass the trader’s families, especially ones who were usually very cheap dock workers rather than well armed mercenaries or a team of gladiators. The traders did not know what to make of this, but did push back further seeing how well things had gone. The traders demanded huge compensation from the guild for the loss of their possible smuggling node, which after some time and debate, the guild relented, but promised to pay back the traders in time. The suspicions began to rise swiftly amongst the coalition’s leaders, who had been wondering if the guild had some kind of well hidden financial problems.

The attack had also infuriated other parties, as the hunters who had carried out of the attacks were summoned to private meeting within Aedeth Mar’s court, and were then never seen alive again. Two bodies, eyeless and noseless were dropped partially naked into the sea and were fished out by some fishermen, the murders had remained unsolved. When the trading coalition leaders went to Aedeth Mar for their first payment, they were received by Tannis guards who paid them in the full amount rather then over time as was agreed. The Tannis guards made it strictly clear that the traders were never to mention the previous events, and doing so was against the wishes of the Penosbaugs. Properly spooked, the traders left with their coin.
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Hidden 4 yrs ago 4 yrs ago Post by Drazan
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The Battle of Leshny Cerne. 760, Second-Era

The rattling war-cries echoed throughout the battlefield beneath the castle’s bluffs. The chill of winter’s rain fell heavily upon them as the men fought desperately. Moving through the infamous black forests outside Volchya, warriors come to strike at the black heart of evil. The evil that grew into a mighty host in their homeland and terrorized the people for decades would soon be crushed. Their reign of terror seems finally closet to an end. Jaromir the Shepherd uttered a guttural, but unmistakable shout accompanied by the roar of the Hruzaski. Living legends through deed, the monster slayers rushed forth to clash with the monsters ahead. Their silver-gilded blades glistened in the moonlight that shone between the great storm clouds that commanded a great storm upon them. Great was the omen for the battle would secure the future of Varkovnia at long last after ten years of campaign. The legions of men stood shield to shield in four ranks facing off the hated foe ahead. Following a great charge the men sallied forth. The sounds of battle, steel hitting steel, steel striking flesh, and cries of agony and triumph echoed. Ranks soon gave way to chaos as the Risen foe began to crumble under the might of the heroic force opposite them.

Sasha, one of Jaromir’s dearest companions cursed under his breath as he spotted the shrouded figure on horseback. The figure wore a peculiar ruby-red amulet and a crown with the unmistakable griffin emblem of the fallen House Varkov that had been claimed by squabbling cadet branches. The figure was known to all on the battlefield. An arrow shot into the figure’s head, knocking back the hood to reveal no head in place. Undaunted, Sasha drew another arrow, his aim was true. His status as a living legend was nearly equal to that of the charismatic shepherds’ son Jaromir. He fired once more at the horse’s legs, striking a hit that sent the headless rider to the dirt. The grinning archer’s triumph, however, was cut short. As the army of undead led by the black rider faltered and disintegrated a dense fog crept in a supernatural fashion. Quickly vision was obscured, and the Hruzaski soon lost sight of one another as visibility was zero.

The sound of battle continued, rotten and skeletal figures collapsing with the occasional shrill shout and yell of men dying at the close of the battle was heard. Fearless Parvan moved in a frenzy, the berserker swung his axe and sword wildly. The notorious, hot-headed warrior of Tairnopol survived many battles with the savage Okke, his scars demonstrated his indefatigable endurance as he fought the Shade of Varkov. The Shade’s cursed black sword was covered in alchemical flames, searing the flesh of Parvan. In response, the berserker slammed his axe onto the blade, twisting his shortsword to impale the undead warrior in the chest. With the blade striking true, Parvan leaned in with all his might, grinning without knowing his fate sealed. The Shade’s left arm extended into the man’s chest, a deadly, claw-like hand impaling him, crushing the strength out of him. With a wordless gasp, Parvan fell, dropping his weapons and with the remnants of his writhing strength grappled the Shade’s arms. A fluid movement removed both rotting limbs, an exhausted dying warrior fell, Parvan’s pained look gave way to elation as he saw who delivered the critical blow.

Jaromir stood over the headless rider, plunging his enchanted blade Svetraje into the amulet around the dead man’s neck. His strike is answered with a guttural groan from the risen Radacek the Red. The angel’s power within him gave him the strength and willingness to see it to the end. Soon after, a long silence settled across the battlefield. After the rest of the risen force collapsed, the bindings that held them to unlife was eliminated. With a glance to Parvan, the mustachioed man gave a bitter smile, knowing Parvan sacrificed himself as did many others to end this. Their souls could now rest as the remaining heroes began to gather once more. Nearly half of their numbers were lost in the great battle, but at last the Cursed Legion was no more. No one understood why they rose or how. There were many unanswered questions. They would never have the chance to find answers.

As the men formed up through the thick mist around them, the hairs on their necks rose as a chorus of howls unmistakably announced the arrival of a new, dire threat. Worgs. The large, malevolent lupine beasts soon moved upon the warriors. A desperate call to organize is accompanied by shrieks of terror and pain as growls and the crunch of bone audibly passed through the damp forests. With a shout Jaromir was struck from behind, shuddering as he fell. He knew the beast would kill him quickly.

With a jolt, Jaromir realized it was a man that had knocked him off his back. The shepherd looks up as the weight fell off him. Movement catches his eye. A ferocious, huge lupine beast pounced upon Sasha. With a desperate slash with his shortsword, the archer’s arm was seized by the red-eyed beast’s mighty jaws. His arm gave way to the sharp, jagged teeth like a knife through butter. His scream was short-lived as the beast’s jaws reached over his head, quite literally biting his head off.

As Jaromir stood, he could tell his men fought desperately, but not hopelessly against the beasts. He saw Ivan the Mad, Slavoj the troll hunter, Rumen the Dragonslayer, and Veliko The One-eye fighting in a square. Their grim determination inspires him. He stands up, the mighty beast had consumed half of the legendary marksman, his legs fell to the ground with a final, decisive bite as it fell out of the red-eyed beast’s maw. This is no worg. A barghest. His thought immediately turned to the fight at hand. Jaromir steadied himself as the monster grinned at him with sharp teeth and hate-filled, predatory eyes. He charges blindly or so it seems as the beast leaps. Quickly, he rolled underneath the claws, grabbing an arrow and stabbing it into the breast of the beast. The large, black-furred monstrosity roared in pain. The scurnze-laden arrow Sasha prepared causes incredible pain.

With a ferocious roar, it charged once more. Jaromir side-steps and strikes. Svetraje tastes blood as the beast’s shoulder is torn, exposing musculature. A claw swipes him, tearing his armor asunder and Jaromir falls on his back tasting blood as the rain poured on his drenched body. His torso bled, his armor only slightly resisted the mighty claws of the demonic-wolf creature before him. Its pitch claws raked with blood. As he moves to stand, he sees the teeth glistened with blood, human sinew stuck between canines with the stench of death about it. Jaromir stood on a foot and leaps back, slashing at the beast’s jaws. The barghest howled in pain, its maw cut and teeth flying loose. Jaromir curses, the beast’s blood covered his sight. As he blinked them open a force knocked him on his back, his head was reeling.

The man’s eyes opened once more the beast looms before him, grinning a wounded, but triumphant monster. A shill fell down his spine as he heard the death rattles of his men. But how? On the moment of their triumph? The liberation of Varkovnia was at hand, yet now all Jaromir could see was darkness staring at him. His face contorts with righteous anger, shouting as he swung his blade once more. The beast laughed. The phantom limb did nothing as the blade sat on the ground, still in the grasp of his severed right arm. The red leer bore into him as if savoring the moment. “Mighty shepherd, you have forgotten your place. I remind -you- who rules the land.” With a sickening lurch, the beast lounged as the grimacing Jaromir gave a primal shout of defiance, his exposed left hand launched in a wild haymaker as the beast’s jaws snapped around him and all was darkness. A series of sickening crunches could be heard that gave way to silence.

The mist clears revealing the carnage of war. Hundreds of bodies, dead and rotting as the sickening feast ends with crows circling overhead in the rain that washes the blood into the soil. The Hruzaski fell, the legendary warriors each met their end sure of their victory over the darkness. No man would understand what truly happened to them. A true evil was born from the blood of salvation. The gloom in the forest deepened as a large shadow was cast across the realm. The barghest’s body shook, and trembled, its eyes widened as the angel’s blood and man’s flesh filled its belly, contorting as its eyes widen. The power of the angel spread across its body, the beast’s feast of body and soul complete as it absorbed the angel’s power from within the great hero. The barghest’s mind swelled with the power and ambition of Jaromir and its deceptive, black-heart rose as it grinned in sudden realization. Varkovnia belonged to it and the land had now found its ‘shepherd’ to guide it in her image.

The Great Hunt is called! (998 2nd Age, Spring)

Velinka opened her eyes as she awoke from the dream of the ancient battle. The elven figure sat on the bed with a stretch. It was early morning with the sounds of spring heard as songbirds could be heard from a distance during a clear, sunny day. She felt dizzy, remembering the exquisite festivities and celebrations of the previous evening. The feast was quite something and the drink was bountiful. She realized the sounds of servants cleaning awoke her. A horrid mess was strewn about the room undoubtedly due to the revelry and excitement of the previous evening. As they silently bowed and carried on with their work as she bathed and prepared for the court to be held. There would be many new guests here for a myriad of reasons. She dressed in her finest silks, donned her crown marking her as Princezna of Varkovnia, a claim that several burgomeisters and nobles dared question, but not for long. The shepherd must safeguard the sheep from the wolves. Her subjects sought safety from the monstrous perils that plague the land after all.

“Kneel before her majesty, Princezna Velinka of House Czermak, Suveran of Varkovnia, Guardian of the Seven Cities, Speaker of the Gods, The Caller of the Great Hunt, and Mistress of the venerable House Czermak!”

She entered the well-decorated court that held a great sense of majesty and flair in its design. This contrasted with the castle’s outwardly foreboding atmosphere that enhanced its reputation as a cursed keep. Her entry was flanked by well-armored Rytirs. Their strength and loyalty enhanced the dramatics as the monarch walked in with an air of dignity and majesty expected by the courtiers and guests awaiting her arrival. Among the courtiers lay administrators, Burgomeisters, nobles loyal to her cause, and representatives of guilds. At the end of the hall knelt dozens of foreigners, many of them warriors and adventurers and other merchants or dignitaries of foreign lands seeking favors or boons shrouded in the cloak of mutual benefit. She sat on the throne with an even gaze bereft of strong emotion. Her yellow eyes peered ahead as the court was bid to rise following courtesies rendered. Numerous, dull petitions were dealt with yesterday, but not today. Today was the day a new beginning. Her herald, a Varkovnian human himself, barked once more at her behest.

“A GREAT HUNT is proclaimed! Those who have answered the call and have been given a generous welcome shall know their bravery and ambition shall not be forgotten for their service not only to Princezna Velinka but to all Varkovnia who suffer the MENACE of DARKNESS that rends!” Excited shouts responded from all corners except the throne itself where an unsmiling princess sat in observance of the court’s reactions. Her hand raised on the hilt of Svetraje. The gathered eyed the foreigners who came in their ones, twos, and even full-fledged guilds. They brought with them strange clothes, looks, language, and some of them were even considered barbaric monstrous-looking cretins by the narrow-minded and xenophobic Varkovnians. It was always a wonder that the Princezna tolerated and even encouraged the arrival of foreign-born heroes when Varkovnia itself has many sagas of great heroes such as great Jaromir.

“BE SILENT. For her majesty shall inform you of the great darkness that gnaws at the gates of the land!” The herald then turned, as his liege stood to speak.

“Honored guests and brave warriors, I hereby welcome you to Varkovnia. You have come for your purposes whether it is to earnestly slay the creatures that torment the land, to seek glory, wealth or even power in the lost artifacts of the land. It matters not to me why you are here. What matters is that you came and know that -ALL- who serve me shall be richly rewarded in the Great Hunt.” The suveran paused, her eyes seemingly peering at each of them in a moment, “Not only shall I reward the bravest who have come forth, but the relics uncovered in your path are yours to keep. This is the price I pay to return peace and prosperity to our proud people who have forced a great realm before us. Newfound prosperity we are on the precipice of…”

The dozens of foreign adventurers looked on silently alongside the court, some surprised at the willing relinquish of old, Varkovnian relics to be found in their path. Dozens of beasts to be slain were named, their heads delivered to Castle Valasek. “... Now, go forth and conquer. The eyes of Varkovnia, nay, the world are upon you. I await news of your successful hunts. May the gods’ will reign.” As the speech ended a mixture of excited or polite applause was given as the Great Hunt began officially. The tradition began since Prince Pavel, second Prince of House Varkov, began calling the Great Hunt to destroy beasts of the land. As the day neared its end, Velinka stared down from the keep as the foreigners left. She wondered who would return to receive the ultimate reward...

As the adventurers departed the numerous dignitaries and diplomats would no doubt return to mewl, request, beg or shmooze their way into favors they presume would be to their self-serving interests. However, the largely enigmatic Czermak kept them guessing at her thoughts on the outside world. All know her ambition to fully rule Varkovnia as an absolute ruler, but few knew her thoughts on the intrigues and alliances forming around her other than a recent trade agreement with the hated Republic of Zemnalkov to the surprise of many who now saw their merchants increase in number as well as the number of hobgoblins and goblin mercenaries swell the ranks of those under the direct command of the Princezna’s Rytirs.

Word of peasant uprisings or burgomeisters being defenestrated for insolence or disobedience were largely hushed by her enforcers and those who knew were wise enough to not openly damn their elven ruler’s name. For despite her apparent beauty, there was a harsh gaze behind those unusual, yellow eyes of hers. It was no wonder she was still unmarried despite the tradition of Princes and Princesses marrying foreigners to form significant alliances. Yet, monstrous attacks, bandit attacks, and the occasional sighting of the horrid wagons carried by the foul people of Mertvi Zhyvi distracted the isolated masses from their open dislike of the incoming Anqualan elves who have increasingly migrated from Zemnalkov to escape goblinoid domination.
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Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Infernal
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Infernal

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"Look at these mountains, my son, and tell me what do you think when you look upon them?"

Standing atop the balcony of their palace, the younger of the two Goliaths looked to where his father pointed. All white eyes squinted in thought, focusing on what he was feeling. "Tall, strong, cold, indomitable."

"Good, very good, my son." Placing a large gray hand upon his sons shoulder, the youth smiled while he explained further. "We are very much like these mountains, Setsua. Strong, tall, and indomitable. When we are together, we cannot be defeated. Just as Kuttachuic proved such strength when he liberated our people, so too will I when we reveal our might to the world outside of our mountains."

"But how, father? The outside world is so...dangerous." Fear was discouraged among the great nobility of the Guldani nation, but the stories he had heard were absolutely nerve wracking.

"Yes, there is much to be concerned about, but I will show you something, my son, something I think will help ease your troubles." Together they went back into the palace, a shining jewel of the city of Chotallaki and the seat of the king's power. Jutkalla smiled as servants, soldiers and even other nobles bowed before him, showing respect as they should. Extravagant tapestries of rich, vibrant colors decorated the hallways, illuminated with torches safely spaced out as to not cause a fire. It was not long before they began descending, going down into the depths until they arrived at a special place the king installed.

"What is this place?" Setsua asked.

There were many Goliath working around forges, carrying heavy loads of iron ingots to be melted down, then poured into casts. Hammers striking metal could be heard all over, creating something, something the prince could not think of. Wiping away the sweat quickly forming on his brow, he looked to his father for answers.

"Where once we were reduced to placing Obsidian into wood, now we will have proper weapons and armor, as well as strong war machines."

"War machines?"

He nodded, then guided him through the foundry, showing him the different parts being made. "Our enemies will do whatever they can to deny us our glory, which is why we must go further in our efforts to defeat them. If they do not wish to be part of out empire, then we will crush them beneath our feet." Looking to Setsua, the king laid down his question. "Do you believe yourself worthy enough to lead my armies into victory?"

Nervous, Setsua wasn't sure what to say, but he straightened up and replied. "Yes father, I am worthy. I will bring glory not only to you, but to our people as well."

"You make me so proud of you, my son." Swelling with pride, they walked back up to the palace proper. "In time, the world will bow to the might of the Guldani, or we will put them down."
Hidden 4 yrs ago 4 yrs ago Post by Slagar
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Slagar Lord of Disappointment, Witch King of Saltmar

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=-=Melody of the Ok’van Marshes, Spring 998 2nd Age=-=


The election was nearing a close by mid spring for the Consulships for Muoarma, which had caused heavy debating amongst the populace. Many were certain of victory for Duke Nausk Gotembaug, as was demonstrated by an amazing show of support amongst the nobility of western Tannis. Nausk and his party were stopped by a number of nobles who traveled directly to Nausk’s minor encampment and personally offered their vote of confidence to him. Apparently, there had been a sudden lack of confidence of Tannis’s noble leaders, as the region’s duke showed little knowledge of combat, and even insisted amongst his court he could ‘beat any enemy of Muoarma with a stick and a stone’, questioning the skills of his own levies and knights. This perceived insult had swayed many of the western Tannis nobles back into Nausk’s grasp.

Nausk had decided to return home, and planned to meet Galan to make final preparations for the voting, perhaps to bribe Edgk’s nobles for a surprise victory for him. However, as Nausk was returning home, two armored figures road up from Tannis to deliver news. Nausk listened intently as the figures explained that a group of murderers had rose up in the southern reaches of Zengher, near Olma. The murderers had plundered three hamlets, and threatened a town called Hilgaberg. Nausk raised a sword, his force was small, but he knew of some towns with a levy which would supply him, and rallied his party’s warriors to him. He rode off, not much for questioning such things and made his way towards the town.

When Nausk had reached the vicinity of Hilgaberg, he found a number of suspicious things as his army began to bolster. Zengher levies joined him from some of the smaller towns, pledging their support, along with a small regiment of Uesbergan from a barracks along the way to the village. However, a small regiment of northern Tannis Uesbergan had also appeared, claiming to come to investigate a missing merchant and family friend of a noble. Nausk did not have traditional entourage to pick up on any suspicions, and thus continued, thankful of the supporting force’s captain who pledged himself to Nausk’s cause. Nausk had 1,200 men in his army, but lacked support such as scouts, and wrote letters demanding reinforcements and to halt all of his activities of his campaign till he rid the land of the bandits. Nausk eventually had eyes on the small town, and was saddened to find it a ruined husk.

Hilgaberg had been partially sacked, 1/3rd of the town was burned and the rest had thankfully blocked off the attack from a small horde of mysterious bandits. The town’s frantic people had been collecting and mourning their dead, as Nausk rode off, but not before garrisoning the town with fresh guards. Nausk followed a string of destroyed hamlets, coming upon a small encampment a bit off, surrounded by carts and wooden trash for a makeshift wall. The camp had been suspiciously easy to find. The bandits saw the advancing banners, and many fled towards Olma, but were caught and killed by light militia riders. Shaken, the bandits attempted to surrender to Nausk, but as Nausk went to speak, a Tannis soldier suddenly yelled out, shouting “Crossbow!” and Nausk fled back into his regiments and ordered an advance on the frantic bandits.

The battle had meant to be short, but during the battle several advances into the camp had been delayed, something which Nausk noticed. The captain of the Tannis regiment kept ordering contradictory orders, and allowed the bandits to unleash a barrage of unusual traps. The bandits rolled down logs onto the Zengher militias, and the Uesbergan were decimated by a counter attack by bandit spearmen trying to escape the doomed camp. Nausk ordered three separate assaults on the flank of the camp to prevent escapes, but the Tannis soldiers again pulled back and unleashed a volley on the Zengher troops who breached the camp’s side. Unsure of what to make of this, wether the Tannis Uesbergan were incompetent or were spiteful, it mattered little, as Nausk redirected the force to another side of the bandit camp to prevent further losses.

The battle was over, but it had been a humiliating victory. 600 lives were wasted to kill the bandits, and of those captured, most were killed by either vengeful militias or were mysteriously killed another way. Nausk had one prisoner, the bandit chieftain, whom we personally attempted to interrogate. Yet, during the interrogation, the bandit was skewered rather suddenly by the Tannis captain in what looked to be a fit of rage. Nausk had the man restrained, and angrily ordered him to explain himself. After getting some answers about how the bandit had tortured the merchant and caused too much death and suffering, the angry Nausk let off on the captain and his performance in the battle, and after a brief moment, he demanded their arrest. The captain protested, but Nausk’s men had been waiting for the word, angry by their many forms of friendly fire and treachery during the battle. Fighting broke out again, but only briefly.

Nausk carried his prisoners back to the capital of Gottisberg, where he charged the Tannis troops with treason and incompetence. Of the soldiers who performed well, they were stripped of their armor and weapons and let go, while the rest were placed in the dungeons. News of these events had been mostly private, but soon word had exploded of the poor characteristics during the battle itself, and several exaggerations popped up. Nausk soon found his own vassals were calling him to answer for the battle’s poor performance, which had damaged not only his reputation, but also his ally, Duke Galan Sanderbaug. The day of the election rolled near, and by the time Nausk could even settle down, he was called to the capital personally by Grand Duchess Marsha Penosbaug.
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Nausk’s head was spinning, and left Gottisberg with a sizable detachment. Two allied nobles of Tannis had met with him on the road, trying to answer his questions of the regiment and the source of the rumors against him, but neither noble knew. Nausk was met with Galan who had rode ahead with a sizable party of his own, primarily family members as the two discussed their political moves. During their stay at an allied castle, he had overheard rumors from servants of the controversy, and things did not look favorable. Nausk, still honorbound and not wishing to look as a coward, continued to push on, but his ally Galan had decided to go back to Souk Mar. Nausk eventually found himself in the capital once again, but his welcome had not been a warm one as before, and not many nobles had come to see him or discuss things with him, which his brother Jude Gotembaug had tried to convince him to return to the Gottisberg in post haste. Nausk left for the court of Marsha.

When Nausk arrived, he was not allowed weapons, armor, or bodyguards since the forum of Marsha was public, but Nausk was no fool, and hid a small dagger beneath his lively and ornate coat. When Nausk entered the court and made his bow before the Grand Duchess, Marsha spoke up in a rather dismissing tone, calling in three other lords. Nausk recognized the lords at once, having been the three smaller nobles from Tannis who had approached him to organize a faction against the Penosbaugs. The lords presented a case of treason before Marsha, that Nausk and his family had unlawfully arrested their soldiers, slaughtered a merchant, and murdered important witnesses of his crimes. Nausk protested at once, which Marsha gave a deathly stare at him and saying “You will speak once I allow it, Duke. I will not speak on that again, for your sake.” Nausk remained silent, but held contempt for it.

Marsha showed skepticism at first for the nobles, as evidence was brought forward. Three soldiers which Nausk had let go testified against him, which gave testimony of his incompetence, and even claimed he had refused the bandits surrender. The stories were conflicting, as Nausk questioned and corrected as best he could the soldier’s lies, but the court remained unconvinced. When Nausk brought up his noble heritage, Marsha seemed to shut it down, reminding the court that even nobles were guilty of crimes. Nausk became confused, and when things seemed to be going wrong, he demanded a proper court trial of one of the local Guilds of Law. Marsha again shut down this idea, saying that the court was a noble matter which was beneath the judges of the city. Nausk demanded clarification, but was given none as the nobles continued to berate Nausk with more exaggerations. It was only when one noble tried to claim Nausk was in league with the Olmans did Marsha shut down the conversation.

Marsha leaned back on her throne and spoke to her audience. “I am ill decided on what was presented here today, but it is clear these charges are grave. How can a man who cannot defeat bandits, be charged with defending this realm? If there is truth spun here today, we will figure it out, but it is clear that I will not tolerate treason. If there is truth that Duke Nausk Gotembaug is in league with our enemies of Olma, I shall be the first to know, and the first to act. My lord, you are dismissed.” Nausk froze, unsure of what to do next. Yet, being naive and honorable as he was, he did not resist when the guards put him irons and hauled him out of court, as the Tannis nobles watched on. Nausk last saw them coming close to Marsha, whispering to her as he was pulled into the halls leading to the palace’s prison.
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Nausk was not allowed much in the way of visitors, and it was days before the election for Consul. Nausk thought things over as he laid in the darkness of his cell, wondering if he had done some wrong. He chatted with a young Okan who was charged with cleaning the prison and providing prisoners food, bribing him with some of his own food for information. He learned that Nausk’s companions were furious, his brother Jude openly waving a sword at the guards outside the palace doors, and the Tannis Nobles were now open additions to the court. Nausk wondered what their plans were, but worried more for his own family. His sons and wife would not put this foolishness on hold for long, and would act. His thoughts were broken as he heard steps coming down into the dungeon, two pairs rather than just one.

An older Okan entered Nausk’s view of vision first, wearing a long red cloak and wielding a sword, with a heavy and formal cloth armor bearing the symbols of the Penosbaugs. The gladiator, Meizbaun, placed a stool in front of Nausk’s cell and waited with torch in hand, as the elder woman Marsha entered the room and sat in front of the chained man. Nausk had been sitting, laying in his cell and gave Marsha a strained look.

“Have your judges deduced I am innocent yet?” Nausk asked. Marsha grunted “My dear lord, I haven’t even sent anyone out yet. Why would I?”

“Then I must ask my lady, do you wish civil war?” Nausk asked again “You know full well my family will not see my death well, and you cannot afford it. Was this the reason you called for Consuls perhaps?”

“Do not be daft, if I wanted your lands, we wouldn’t be talking my lord.” Marsha adjusted herself in her seat.

“Then why have you come?” Nausk demanded, his legs shifted and rang with a light jingle of his shackles.

“Do you think I do not know your innosense, Nausk Gotembaug? I’d have been a stupid fool to think you’d sell yourself to the Olmans, however, none in my court or elsewhere know that much yet.” Marsha began, giving a devilish grin

“Then why arrest me?”

“Simple, I’ve come to offer something to you. I will let you out of this cell, and you will walk free again, under two conditions. You will consider this a favor, one which you cannot give back on and I will call you to, and second, you will work with Duke Galor Olo Veunbera as your Co-consul.”

“You do all this for a favor?” Nausk raised an eyebrow. “I do this because I need you to know perfectly well that I will end you, end your family, and chisel your allies to dust if I do not get what is needed out of you. That, and a prison is a much easier place to talk. . .for one sided privacy.”

“So you know those nobles ar---”

“I suspected. My agents investigate them, but it will not matter in due time. Do we have a deal?”

Nausk gave a sigh, getting up and bowing to Marsha. Marsha extended her hand to the cell doors to expose her ring. Nausk kissed the ring, sealing the deal. The Okan gladiator next to her unlocked the door and undid the shackles on Nausk, and all three exited the dungeon togeather. When Nausk was properly dressed and bathed, he exited the dungeon and called for his brother and companions to a private meeting in a rich tavern, where he explained the situation. After some back and forths, Nausk agreed to drop Galan as a supporter quietly and awaited the election in the capital, although Jude began to work with some investigators and the city’s judges to clear his brother’s name a bit more.
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The day of the election arrived, but Duke Galor had been late, arriving with his family and servants during the actual vote. Galor had suspected that his rival Nausk would protest this and try to have the vote recalled, but when Galor arrived at court, Nausk had been silent and talking with Duke Galan in a corner. Galan was upset, but still held out he had gained enough support for it to be a difference. The Duke of Tannis arrived, along with the nobles who had imprisoned Nausk, and when they saw the duke mingling amongst the crowd, they had turned milk white and attempted to excuse themselves. Nausk’s many allies were relieved to see him alive and well, some having known of his arrest, which Nausk had pretended that it had all been a misunderstanding. Galor found out soon enough, loudly laughing as he heard it and mocking Nausk during the entire proceeding.

When Marsha entered the courtroom, her back was covered in an absurd number of strange individuals, most being of her Council of Merit, advisers for the most part, whom Marsha listened too. Marsha opened the forum for discussion before the election of gathered nobles and their representatives, which the Duke of Tannis spoke up first, demanding Nausk be ejected from the election for his arrest. Marsha knew the tactic, having been informed on it already by an adviser, as the Tannis nobles hoped to spread the rumors to convince those in attendance to switch their votes. Marsha had expected this and did not speak on it, and when Galor demanded the same, Nausk had looked to Marsha. Marsha gave a hidden nod, and then spoke to the collective of dukes and barons, saying that new evidence had been found which had made the arrest invalid. After some small bickering, the room quieted and the matter was dropped, although for the conspirators, they had grown cold and silent.

The nobles gathered around a ballot box, with the names of the Consul contenders and the vote was casted slowly. When the voting was done, the nobles mostly left back to palace rooms or rich inns to rest up and await the next day for the results, but others seemed to move in motion. The judges of the local guild of law had been reviewing the case against Nausk, and with the help of Marsha’s agents. Zengher soldiers burst into the home of one noble during the night and ransacked the household looking for information, and found loads of conspiratorial evidence. Nausk was able to figure out swiftly the reasoning for the betrayal, as these three nobles had wished to throw Nausk and Galan out of the election and give their own liege lord a head in it. However, Nausk did not want to stir trouble against Tannis, and instead presented this information to Marsha’s agents.

The conspirators were able to regroup and stay within the vicinity of their liege lord for the night, but when morning came and the court reconvened, Marsha gathered the nobles to one final talley. Nausk Gotembaug won, regardless of the controversy, but a sizable margin as was predicted. When the next vote had been called, Garlor was elected as the next Consul by a slim margin, beating the Duke of Tannis by several votes. It seems the nobility of Edgk had been given massive bribes by the Tannis conspirators before the election, but their support had not been enough, as a surprising number of angry nobles in northern Zengher and displaced nobles in Jentre seemed to save Garlor. Garlor bombastically cried out his victory and made a show, bowing before Marsha and swearing to uphold the greatness of Muoarma. As tradition demanded, both Nausk and Garlor were granted a crown of flowers and a gemstone brooch of a cockatrice to represent their newfound powers.

Nausk came outside and spoke to a gathering of nobles while Garlor and Marsha spoke more privately. Nausk made a speech before the group, exclaiming he would keep the honor and glory of Muoarma eternal, and that he would obey the commands of the people and the grand duchy. Nausk eventually was able to catch up to Marsha, whom told him that he was to gather an army and march to Edgk. Nausk was then told of Marsha’s desire, which surprised and confused Nausk, that the armies of Muoarma would fall onto the Okan peoples of Ok’va, and annex the land into the grand duchy. Nausk warned of attacks from the coalition of Muha and Olma, and was then told of their quiet breaking of their alliance with Ok’va, a secret Marsha wished Nausk to keep. Nausk tried at first to sway the grand duchess to perhaps use the Consulships to reinforce the southern borders with the Okke or Varkovnia, but a swift reminder of the talk in the dungeon ended the conversation. Nausk left the capital, and went back home to begin building his troops and to study his would be enemy.

The conspirators however, as soon as they heard the news, found themselves thrown out of their safe rooms which were protected by the Duke of Tannis. The duke, pressured by a number of external forces, told the nobles to flee back to Tannis. The three nobles did, but not before Marsha had them ordered back to court to stand trial. When the nobles got to Tannis’s border, they were surrounded by riders waving Neskerbaud banners, who had been waiting for them. The nobles were captured and brought to a camp led by Kara Neskerbaud, the raven haired martial lady and daughter of the Baron Neskerbaud. After promising to free the nobles, Kara began to drag them back to the capital for trial, which made the Tannis nobles panic. The three nobles then tried to escape Kara’s party, and found themselves held up in a small farmhouse of a peasant hamlet. Kara tracked down the nobles and dragged them out of the house, with her men keeping back scared villagers. Kara then slowly and methodically beheaded the nobles and impaled their heads in the middle of the hamlet, riding off frustrated northward. When the peasants reported the act to their own noble lords, the horrified baron had the bodies shipped back to Tannis.
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When the dukes of Zengher and Gaszbam returned to their provinces, they began the ordering of mustered troops at once. Garlor wanted to set off immediately, but when he saw that a majority of his Uesbergan were under manned, he decided to spend more time collecting an army in Mousmar and southern Edgk. Garlor expected only a pitiful fight of the Okan, but his son Tanberg Veunbera was not so certain. Tanberg was promoted instantly as a captain beneath Garlor, and despite the Imperator of the Highlands being a vengeful man, he allowed a number of powerful Edgk nobles to join him as captains, even when they had voted against him. Garlor also began asking for favors from Duke Galan of Jentre for use of the Muoarman navy, and with Garlor’s new found power he had been granted it. Garlor began making his plans against the marsh people, and would set up his main warcamp in Mousmar for the summer and fall to collect troops, rest in the winter, and then begin the invasion in spring, a battle plan which he had no plans to tell his hated rival Nausk about.

Nausk however, when he returned home, began the collection of troops in a very traditional fashion, but also set out to work on studying his would be enemy and collecting the necessary supplies. Nausk asked Galan for troops and supplies, which was provided handsomely, and the Duke of Tannis provided some minimal support as well in both manpower and supplies. Nausk had decided to pull aside some Okan slaves of his own household who knew him well, and whom he treated well, offering them better rations and living conditions if they provided information for his coming campaign. Only his favored servant, Peloaban, stepped forward despite the scowls of others. In order to maintain the secrecy, he had the rest of the Okan locked in their quarters and placed under watch. Nausk also called upon his good friend Zar’usaga, the elven scout and his Marshal of Information to join him, a task the elf agreed to happily. Nausk spent much of his remaining spring gathering his army and deep in the study of Ok’va. Peloaban, who had once been a clansman of Ok’va, aided in pointing out various cultural customs, language barriers, and half remembered towns and small keeps which dotted the dark marshland.

It was hard to hide the warpath which Muoarma was preparing for, with armies in western Muoarma gathering in the highlands of the country. Yet, the target that it was Ok’va was hidden, even though the ever isolated country cared or knew. Mouarman traders had seen armies growing and passed by many Uesbergan regiments marching to Gottisberg and Buvom Mar. When or if asked about the coming conflict, many levies and soldiers did not really know, which led to some disappointing morale amongst the initial soldiers. Some in Zengher wondered if they would be finally putting down the nation of Olma, while more upset soldiers in Gaszbam guessed they were marching on Varkovnia.
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During the mustering of his troops, Nausk was approached by his friend Zerban Lulsbera, who had been his Marshal of Arms for years and both men knew each other very well. Nausk asked his friend if all of his vassals had supported him with troops, Zerban replied that all but one had seemingly sent their full set of troops to be organized. Nausk asked after who had not sent troops, and it had been a northern provincial noble named Cauzen Operabaug, a small time baron in the hills who lived on a sizable estate. Cauzen’s family provided the region with furniture, which his family owned the regional monopoly rights. Cauzen was a very private noble and only sent a representative to the election, and often was only seen if he hosted Zengher’s only painting club.

Nausk and Zerban rode out to find out why Cauzen had not sent troops from his region with a small force of Uesbergan heavy riders. Nausk and Zerban met up with Cauzen’s Marshal of Arms in a small village outside of his estate, trying to keep people calm who had heard screaming and wailing from the estate. When he saw Nausk riding up, he looked white in the face and tried to convince Nausk that everything was fine. Seeing how several of the Marshal’s men were pale, and one man was lying in the mud, Nausk declared that things were very clearly not fine.

Nausk entered into a stone walled manor, which was guarded by all manner of Cauzen’s Uesbergan. The soldiers did not look healthy, many looked dazed and sick with Cauzen looking ever the more worried as he seemed to angrily discuss things with an elven woman. Cauzen was told be his Marshal of Nausk’s appearance and went over to the duke, giving a bow. “My lord! I would have prepared better if I had known you’d be arriving?”

“I would have not needed to come if your troops were in Gottisberg. Where is your men Cauzen, and why do. . .these Uesbergan look sick? Do not tell me plague is in this region.”

“My lord, I wish it was. . .well, not really, but it would be a preferable alternative to my troubles! I swear, once this matter is straightened up, I shall gather my troops and we shall go to Gottisberg together!”

“What manner of trouble is it then?” Nausk asked, looking over his vassal’s worried face. Cauzen didn’t answer at first but then meekly spoke up “I wraith haunts my home, my lord, at least that is what the young magi says.”

Nausk raised an eyebrow “Young Magi?”

“Well, she looks young, but I guess all elves do.”

“She is a sage then?” interrupted Zerban. Cauzen huffed at the comment “I am a lord of Zengher, I do not bring sages to court, but the Sorcerers in Souk Mar vouch for her services. A strange one she is, but she at least identified the problem.”

Nausk left his friend to deal with Cauzen as we went after the Magi to find more answers, the Magi was difficult to find, as she did not go inside the manner, but rather into the garden. The elven woman cloaked herself in a blue and black cloak, and smelled of various natural perfumes. Nausk was called for her attention, although the elf seemed more interested in talking with a small and young Okan maiden next to her, who wore a simple mage’s outfit and a belt of bags filled with herbs and bottles. She had a partial appearance of a clanswoman of Ok’va, but the design of her cloak did not make her out to be a slave or a common servant.

“Sorceress, I must speak with you!” Called out Nausk. The woman lowered her voice and turned, her gaze unhappy. “What is it, human? I am busy.” The elf retorted. Nausk was taken a bit aback by the statement, especially to someone such as himself.

“I am Nausk Gotembaug, Duke of Zengher.” Nausk reminded the woman “You would mind your tongue well. You are the Magi called by my vassal?”

“I am.” The woman replied, but said nothing of the man’s title. Nausk looked at the woman, annoyed. “As Duke, I demand to know what my vassal faces. . .and your name.”

“Why do you wish to know my name?”

“Why do you ignore my questions?” Nausk asked again, but his voice began to lower. The elf had seemed to wish to come back with some retort, but quieted herself. “I am Yekseen, Magi. Your vassal called me hear to deal with a problem.”

“Yekseen? Is that elvish for Fruit Basket?” Nausk asked, the elven woman looked at him and did not answer, as if she wanted to correct him but decided against it. Nausk looked down at the Okan maid in which the maid gave a slight bow to him. “I am Forgoia. . .ummm. . .Forg for short.” said the young creature.

“Your name is frog?” asked Nausk, with Forgoia swiftly answering “Kind of, mum named me Frog’s a---”

“Face. She means face, but prefer Forg. If that is all your questions my lord, please, speak with your vassal and leave us to my work.” asked Yekseen.

“Your work is slow then, and I shall help speed it along. Cauzen has mentioned a wraith haunts him, will you at least tell me if that is true?”

Yekseen shook her head, “It is more than just that, there were several deaths and none of them I can really explain. I was under the impression there was some ancient revenant or marsh wraith wandering about, but now I am not so certain.” Nausk only looked blankly at the woman, whom did not appreciate Nausk’s ignorance. “Common undead, really.”

“Well, there is no. . .marshes here, not until one goes northward or towards the south. Tell me, were there victims?” Nausk asked

“Yes, Cauzen’s cousin, a guard, and a household servant.” Yekseen hesitantly replied. The two continued a passive aggressive argument, as Nausk and Yekseen entered into a basement cellar below the estate where the bodies had been held. Cauzen joined them in attendance, where Nausk had the elven Magi take him through an atopsy of the bodies. Yekseen, despite having gone through the bodies and annoyed by the curious nobleman’s insistence, was forced to relent at she uncovered the bodies of a younger noble, an older guard, and a middle aged human servant.

All three bodies looked extremely aged, with signs of complications to health found across their skin. Their eyes had looked dried out and their face squeezed. All had terrified looks paralyized on their faces, but Nausk noticed something something rather quickly, a vial filled with a grayish-red substance. Yekseen grabbed it out of the man’s hand and placed it carefully back down “Please, do not touch that. They are covered in the substance, and I do not know what it is.”

“It smells vile, that is all I know.” Cauzen looked at the scene with disgust. Nausk looked through the glass vial, noting something he was somewhat, but not fully, familiar with. “It almost looks like. . .paint?”

“It isn’t paint, but it's close. There is blood mixed in, all the wounds were covered in it.” Yekseen revealed a number of handprints across all the bodies. “It is the sign of a wraith attack, although the paint is new. I knew a Magi who had tried to deal with something similar, but information of such things are scarce.”

“This spirit, it has been seen has it not?” Nausk asked. “Yes. It's a womanly figure, noble’s dressing gown but. . .overblown? Exaggerated? Like something out of an artist’s imagination.” Yekseen replied

“It sounds a great deal like a spirit attached to an artist, but I am ignorant of the subject.” the duke replied, Yekseen only gave a nod as the interested parties continue to debate over the course and into the night. The guards encamped, along with the nobles outside the manner as Nausk and Yekseen watched the household from afar. Nausk was pointed to the wraith wandering aimlessly about the halls, and disappeared after a blood curdling scream. When the parties returned, the household was in shambles of destroyed furniture and ripped paintings. As Cauzen ordered the remaining furniture removed, Nausk noticed that one painting had looked off.

Nausk stopped a guard and looked over a large portrait of Cauzen’s mother, the lady Baulferna Operabaug, a woman who had passed away rather recently. The painting depicted the young and sodden faced woman in a typical exaggerated gown, but surrounding the painting was a strange brown blight mixed in with an evening greenery. Nausk then noticed one hand had a strange number of crunched up fingers, and a rather poorly made background tree had a hiding noose wrapped around a branch. Nausk took the painting to his command tent and summoned the elf woman and her apprentice, and examined the painting. Yekseen nearly lept back in shock when her scrying had worked, and revealed a monsterous presence inside the painting which was slumbering for now, but was also starving.

Cauzen was summoned as well, and when explained the situation, he was rather surprised, and once reviewing the painting of his mother, he could barely notice the faded ‘features’ on the haunted painting. “My mother wasn’t a sad woman, I do not know why she had come back to haunt me! Elf woman, this wraith isn’t my mother! I demand you get rid of it!”

“The only way to get rid of a wraith is by destroying what bind it to the world, we have to burn the painting.”

Nausk intervened “Cauzen, it is but a painting, surely it isn’t of such import, your cousin is dead and your people, soldiers, are dying.”

“I grieve for them my lord, it is true, but I grieved for my mother’s memory. I will not have this painting destroyed!”

Nausk turned to Yekseen “Is there an alternative? I will not have my vassal offended if I can help it.” Forg then intervened before the elf could speak “Sort of, although it is much more difficult. Most wraiths and spirits need appeasement of some sort, but we do not know what would appease it.”

“Did your mother keep a diary, journal, anything that could give us a clue, Cauzen?” The nobleman shook his head, with Yekseen growing more frustrated. Nausk intervened again “Then I shall search the house, and if my soldiers find nothing, I have no choice but to burn the painting and end the abomination haunting your manner. You and your men may help, but you shall explain to them why their woes matter little compared to your mother’s image.”

Nausk ordered Zerban to accompany Yekseen and some of his Uesbergan to search the manor in the morning, and placed the painting in the basement under guard. With help of Zerban, Yekseen was able to find a hidden and decrepit journal in secluded attic. Yekseen peeked through the journal before handing it off to both the duke and baron. Cauzen’s mother had apparently, shortly after her marriage, had a difficult relationship with Cauzen’s father, who was revealed to be an abuser and paranoid man. The abuse was sated by Cauzen’s birth, but the misery had driven the woman to madness, which cultivated in her several suicide attempts, hidden from Cauzen. Cauzen was shocked and remained silent for a few moments as Nausk and Yekseen discussed what to do next.

Cauzen demanded that the spirit was to be properly released from the mortal coil, while refusing to acknowledge it as his mother. When Cauzen left Nausk’s command tent, he and Yekseen debated on what to do next. Yekseen had guessed that perhaps defiling the grave of the previous lord would appease the spirit, but Nausk guessed that the connection between Cauzen and his mother may do the trick instead. Both agreed to try both ideas, and through some tough negotiations, they had the grief stricken Cauzen agree to their plans.

The Uesbergan soldiers went into the Operabaug family tomb and found the gravestone of Baron Juesan Operabaug and chiseled the monument, all within sight of the painting. The soldiers then continued to defile the monument, although their moods were soured due to their customs, and many believed themselves cursed for doing so. Yekseen investigated the image, and the presence was still alive within the painting, but the figure was calmer than it had been before. Their next plan was to rush Cauzen into a private confrontation with the wraith. Nausk had worried the wraith would kill Cauzen, and thus ordered Yekseen and Zerban to accompany him into a private room. As night drew close and the painting was placed onto a stand in front of a nervous baron, all of the company waited for what was to come.

As night stirred, Nausk and Yekseen watched quietly, but the painting soon became lively with motion, the figure decaying in rapid succession and moved, gripping the sides of the painting as it drifted out. Cauzen’s mother, a painted wraith in all it’s horrifying glory, calmly re-entered the world of the living. The figure’s ashen and skeletal mouth dropped low as the figure’s once exaggerated clothes began to char and flutter, and once it left the painting, the meek and terrified nobleman approached. The wraith only spoke in pained words, and like a frightened and cornered animal it often avoided Cauzen’s approach. It’s attention was fully on Cauzen, but as the wraith had been more horrifying then Nausk imagined, he had wished to speak up. Yekseen silently tried to prevent this, and having some trust in her ability, he relented.

The wraith grasped the terrified Cauzen, and then slivered it’s arms to hug him, resting it’s rotting head on his shoulder with feint and corrupted womanly weeping sobbing from it. Cauzen slowly embraced the wraith, and in doing so, the wraith dissipated, as if sucked up into the sky. Cauzen collapsed on the empty floor crying, as the painting returned to normal. Yekseen confirmed the presence of the wraith was gone fully from the painting as Cauzen left the room a mess, with Nausk congratulating the elf woman for her handling of the situation. Cauzen and his family returned to the manner shortly afterward and there was a momentary peace.

Cauzen and Nausk met outside the manner, and while his soldiers were still sick and recovering from chasing and getting ambushed by a wraith for a few weeks, Nausk had asked as to why the wraith decided to attack now. Cauzen collected his thoughts, but was unsure, although he did partially admit he had once seen his cousin angrily cussing and cursing the portrait of his mother in a drunken stupor, but was not really sure if that was the true reason. Whatever the case may have been, Cauzen promised to triple his war effort to Nausk, he would collect a large war tax and a sizable retinue and ride for Gottisberg at once. Yekseen had gotten her payment and planned to be on her way, but before doing so, Nausk and Zerban met up with her and her apprentice.

Nausk offered the woman to join his retinue, wishing for an elven sage to join him on his journey to Edgk. Reluctant at first, Yekseen agreed to accompany the Consul to Edgk, since she was heading that way as well. Once a week passed and Cauzen gathered what he could, the entire group rode back to Gottisberg to begin preparations for their march into Edgk.
____________________________________

The noon sky blossomed over the small marshland fog rising from the Ok’van marshlands, and within an alpine willow on a low branch, a Okan warrior sat comfortably upon the branches. In his hands was a flute, playing a patriotic and somber melody, playing soothingly to an audience of his wife and three younger pups playing in the water. The Okan woman looked up, not happy with the tone which the warrior was playing his tune, his belt hanging with two hatchets and partial war paint drying on his face and paws. The Okan woman stood from watching her children, calling to Tenred, the warrior playing his flute so calmly.

“Ya should be practicing, me dear husband, not playing on a good tune.” she said, nervously and not wishing to encourage another personal fight. The warrior stopped, looking down at his wife and smiled “Ya worry too much, Nama. Besides, the ritual don’t happen till this afternoon.”

“That what the previous lad said before he got impaled by a sword.” Nama retorted. Tenred came down from the branches with a swift leap, and before Nama even knew it, her husband was holding her. She gave a weak smile at his antics.

“That was only because I told him the old water dog was a damn slow fool. Flute calms me nerves, ye’d rather have me go in, a wreck?” Tenred smiled, trying to encourage his love to smile back. However her mood faded to worry. “I just don’t want you doing something we’d all regret. Ya be young, yer children young.”

“I know, yet even ya can underestimate me. You got nothing to worry about, me Nama.” Tenred embraced his wife and called to his kids “Ya three! Come back up, we gotta move out!”

The wails of the three younger Okan and complaints were heard, but after the offer of some food was made, they came rushing back. After a short time meandering around the marshlands, Tenred and met up with a smaller group, primarily warriors in militia garb similar to his own. The zealous warriors of the old faith of Ok’va, the Baufa’kad, marched to a meeting ground to perform an ancient ritual. The retirement of their leader, the Muaj’kadeen. No Muaj’kadeen has ever died peacefully, and as honor and tradition dictates, the members of the Baufa’kad must fight their leader in a duel for the right to rule the organization. The Okan warriors gathered under the stars every night as their weakening leader lived in a circle of stones deep within the Ok’van marshes, having not left it in over a month. The Muaj’kadeen was elderly and well known to Tenred, having been his mentor. The warrior held onto his spear, having eaten nothing except insects which wandered in or berries offered by his family. The weak old Okan grasped his spear and awaited his warriors to appear once again.

Tonight had been special, as the three previous contenders had been killed by the current Muaj’kadeen in duels, although even the elderly Okan suspected they had been tricked. Tenred had whispered of the Muaj’kadeen’s weakness in their ears, and were ill prepared in the fight itself. When the whole of the zealous group came again, Tenred was the last to arrive and remained in silence. Before anyone could speak, Tenred forced his way to the front, and made an offering of his blood at the feet of the stone circle before entering. This was rather unusual, but only the elder knew what it meant, and looked angrily at Tenred.

“Ya make deals not with gods, old friend, but with cruel tyrants, ya know.” He began, lifting himself onto his spear. Tenred unfurled his axes, and his family watched from afar. The Muaj’kadeen continued. “How many pups ya give for your victory?”

“None, me old friend, do not think me the fool.” The Muaj’kadeen looked at him with a confused look “Then wh--, nevermind it then. Are ya prepared to die, Tenred, son of Pek?”

“Nay, I’d ask ya the same.” Tenred smiled, reading a defensive stance. The Muaj’kadeen charged with spear in hand, the two warriors flipping and sliding all across the circle as the whole of the Baufa’kad looked on. There was a jab there, a cut here, and both warriors seemed very much matched. Tenred however got a nasty cut across the shoulder, despite it being a common move to avoid. The Muaj’kadeen looked disappointed and tried to jump downward on his foe, but the Okan warrior rolled to the side and left his weapons, pulling out a small poisoned bone knife and stabbed it into the Muaj’kadeen’s eye. The elderly leader grasped at the swelling at without much thought soon collapsed onto the ground. Tenred pulled his axes and gave a mocking bow to his former mentor and turned to the Baufa’kad surrounding him.

“I am Tenred, ya know me well, and none oppose me? Say now, for I am blessed by the gods.” None of the warriors spoke up, but Nama did give a relieved smile. Tenred nodded to his allies within the crowd and called out. “With that business out of the way, we shall bury our good mentor and friend in the deep woods where our gods dwell, and may his soul be willing to join his ancestors. As for another matter of business. . .Bauya! Bring him here!”

Tenred’s allies had grabbed a member of the Baufa’kad a terrified and younger member who kicked and screamed as the onlooking members watched. Bauya was slammed to the ground and brought before Tenred. He looked up, terrified as he was. “Just as I said those weeks ago, Bauya, I warned the previous Muaj’kadeen of your spying, your assistance and betrayal to the sickening religion of our southern enemy. If ya cannot serve the gods in life, then ya can at least serve them in death.”

“Brothers! Do not listen to him! He is insane, a mad creature!” Bauya shouted. Tenred had caught the Okan red handed having prayed to a southern Muoarman god, and even had once presented evidence of spying on the group for the local Cesavii priesthood in the coastal provinces. What had been ignored before, Tenred sought to fix now. The Okan watched as Tenred had a druid called to the center of the group, and pull out a small twitching seed. Bauya’s eyes widened and screamed for mercy and forgiveness. None answered as Tenred shoved the seed into Bauya’s throat. The Okan was restrained as he switched and let out pained screams, as his body began to crunch with each twitch. Sticks came out of the Okan’s body and eventually he became still, only to begin moving again as he was arisen as a Spriggan. The Baufa’kad accepted this outcome as the spriggan arose, bowed to Tenred, and was ordered to care for the previous Muaj’kadeen’s body. The new Muaj’kadeen let out a primal warcry to his gathered zealots and clan militia, each one cheering for Tenred’s victory and far too frightened to challenge him openly.

The new Muaj’kadeen of the Baufa’kad had no interest in the status quo for his small time milita, an old order of southern clans separate from their northern brethren. The group which had once otherwise been primarily a militia of the followers of the old gods which kept order amongst the clans, now was much more active in Ok’va itself.The group began to gather more Militias amongst the clans, performing religious rites and helping to guard and ‘support’ Okan who worshipped the old gods. The small time Cesavii monasteries across Ok’va, a secret project of the Cesavii Temple of Muoarma grew worried with the developments and hired an Okan mercenary company to guard their holdings, but had also inadvertently allowed Tenred and his Baufa’kad acess to them. Many mercenaries owed a number of loyalties to their clans, and the company hired by the temple had been in Tenred’s company, and began spying on the monasteries for the Baufa’kad.

Tenred also began dishing out a number of odd requests for his Baufa’kad which did not line up with his usual policies, primarily he began to talk with the Grays, a family of northern Ok’va who struggled with religious ties. Tenred’s rise to power seemed to have interested Bran Gray who invited Tenred and his captains into a private meeting in his small keep, discussing issues of religion and the clans. While Tenred had a history of hostility against both nobles and foreign faiths, he had also began receiving an absurd amount of new armaments, boxes filled with poisoned plants, stolen elven bows, and metal padded armor. This had made the Baufa’kad vicious in their support for old gods supporters and worshippers, and the Baufa’kad became a very serious bandit power within the inner marshes which for now remained dormant.
____________________________________

In the city of Eldar Muha, within the Kingdom of Muha, the Imperator of Muha had received word from his ambassadors and used his court Magi to astral project a message to the Olman King, demanding a meeting in Muha. The Olman King had no means of getting Muha without moving through Muoarma, and thus asked for a favor from the Duke of Tannis to give him safe passage. After some short back and forths, the Olman King was able to secretly get to Muha with his sizable entourage. King Gaezan Weizzbaug, King of Olma met with the elven King Penkos Cea’karal, along with the ambassadors of both countries who had related Marsha’s offer to both kings. In attendance was also an Muoarman ambassador associated with Marsha’s demands who would swiftly leave to relate the deal back to Marsha, who was rather confident the two kings would accept the request.

Both kings debated, with Penkos wanting the deal primarily for the bribe money rather than the offer of peace, with Gaezan being offended by the offer. Gaezan was worried that abandoning their northern ally would deprive them of their power, but Penkos insisted they took the offer. Neither lord particularly liked Ok’va, who rarely if ever even sent ambassadors to their meetings, and it had been hard for both leaders to tell if their leadership was treacherous or shy. Gaezan wanted more time to think on it, but Penkos stated he would just leave the coalition if Gaezan took too long. The Olman king eventually relented after a long and tedious discussion, and after failing to secure a peace treaty for Ok’va, the Olman king accepted the deal. Both kings then told the Muoarman ambassador that both kings would not help the Okan in a war, and the ambassador left to tell Marsha the news.

The Olman king discussed the time restraint the two nations had, wondering if Marsha would use the time to conquer them once they were done in Ok’va. Gaezan was annoyed and offended when Penkos dismissed the concerns, having already some vague plan to gain assistance from Gu-wei, although how he did not say. It was clear to both leaders that they would have to use the time allowed to build up new allies, with Gaezan turning his attention to Varkovnia and Okke, while Muha would try to secure some vague agreement from Gu-Wei. King Gaezan left shortly thereafter, and on his way back home, a messenger caught up to him with a treaty signed by Marsha, securing both nation’s treaties.

Muha had set to work spending the gold it had, primarily trying to save it’s wine industry from collapse while craftsmen in Olma were relieved along with their noble overlords from oncoming new trade and peace along their border. Olman raids into Muoarma by lesser nobles were put to a stop to keep Marsha from backing away from here deal in the harshest manner possible, with King Gaezan having a once friendly bandit leader executed along with his officers who once sowed terror on the border with the Duchy of Zengher. The leaders and nobles of both nations also secure the silence of their ambassadors, especially in Muha where a Okan family of merchants had been acting as partial and incompetent ambassadors on Ok’va’s behalf. The family was rounded up the Muhan guards and were marched off to the south lands and secretly executed, and younger members of the merchant family were sold by their executioners to a elven winemaster for some quick coin.

@Drazan
The Olman King had been primarily worried about Varkovnia for years, and Olman nobles were deeply disturbed what happened in the lands, but could not deny that the nation could be a valuable ally against Muoarma. King Gaezam sent one of his brother, Polom Weizzbaug, to Varkovnia to discuss a possible introduction into the coalition against Muoarma. No marital alliance had been offered however, or considered, since the Olmans had a fairly deep distrust of elves and it was clear that they wanted an alliance of convenience rather then any friendship. When Polom entered the land, seeing its haunting depravity, he had been rather sickened by the sight of its people and did not exactly show good mannerisms. Polom had no trust in his small retinue of knights, and thus he often looked for various mercenaries and elite soldiers to pay for his trip to meet Suzeran Velinka Czermak.

@AdorableSaucer
The Muhan king on the other hand, sent an ambassador to to the Gu-Wei Empire, although how Ambassador Gu’andar Vessuvian was supposed to move through Narcaep, he did not know. Using some bribery, several very atrocious deals, Gu’ander was able to just barely get access to move into the empire and come across it’s bordering towns, although the ambassador had been an embarrassing sight. The elf often insulted the locals with his constant bickering and arrogance, and introduced himself within Red Clay. Gu’ander’s main attempt was to make his way to the province of Greater Shi to meet with Emperor Yandi, although how and if he would get there was of a greater mystery, as the ambassador’s guards often grew sick of him quickly, and held very little authority outside of his overly expensive white garbs.

Gu’ander’s mission had been simple, to give a letter to the Emperor or someone who could deliver a letter which read like a pompous demand. The letter, if read through Muhan eyes, would have written of wishing the Gu-Wei to enter into the coalition against Muoarma, or more specifically, if Muoarma were to attack Olma or Muha, they would come to both nation’s defense. In return, King Penkos would recognize the independence and state of Gu-Wei as a successor to the Muha Imperium, 15 Carts of Muhan royal wine, and a port enclave in New Muha. Gu’ander knew more of the specifics of this route, primarily using the river through Naecap to transport goods to New Muha and sell them within the Bountiful Coast’s trade route. As for what the King of Muha had meant by the recognition of independence, Gu’ander would imply it was a great Muhan honor, to recognize an independent elven nation and thus a dropping of any and all claims of the Kingdom of Muha on the region, which to any scholar would have been pretty sketchy at best.

@The Wyrm
Olma had long been fascinated with the Okke lands, but that fascination was one of eyeing the land’s possibilities. Sitting on an important trade node with the Gu-Wei, the Olman nobles have long wished to exploit the region, but despised its people more so. Olma once had an important protectorate in the region which fell long ago, but the oversized otter men of the land were hostile at best to nearly all non-Okin who stepped in the land, at least according to the Olmans. King Gaezam had wished to expand his lands to the region, but rather then sending an army into a hellscape of non-conventional warfare as was the case in the many wars with the Okan, Gaezam sought a more slow and diplomatic approach.

The Olman king collected a Okan farmer who was the descendent of former slaves of Muoarma, and sent the creature, barely knowing much about the Okin into their lands with a white flag. The Okan peasant wandered around until he was picked up by patrols, where he tried to give the patrols a letter in Olman. The letter had been a royal decree of the King of Olma, declaring that the people and borders of the country would remain free and unspoiled so long as Olma stood, essentially guaranteeing the nation’s independence. More so, this message was passed around to Muoarma and other surrounding nations, although the Muoarmans didn’t really care. Muoarma had been busy elsewhere, and considered the region for possible expansion in the future, and the Olman interference in the land was just a minor inconvenience.

If the Okin were interested in dealing with the Olmans, it was pretty clear of their intentions, as they wanted trade rights and privileges on the great lake. Ideas outside of this hasn't been discussed yet in the Olman court, but it was pretty clear the Olmans greatly distrusted the savage people, or didn’t fully respect them. If the Okan messenger had survived long enough in the land, it was also pretty clear by his own tales and woes how much the Olmans disliked the otter folk, with pogroms against their people being almost as common as the elves. Apparently a Olman noble had destroyed a sizable fishing industry along the Muoarman eastern border in order to try to pass the industry onto more loyal human subjects. While King Gaezam was more tolerant by Olman standards, he wasn’t exactly a paragon either.
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Ribbigus Croak - The Embers of Ancient Hate




Spring of 998, Laojiu Lane, a slum by the docks of Shi...

Rosaries were difficult to get a hand of around these parts - the pearls and stones on the market here were never of the right kind. The stonegrounds around Shi had grown barren after decades of desperate exploitation by prayer-starved mucklings - but how could he blame them, though?

Finally the centre of the stone gave way to his improved rock hammer. With his spinkly, green fingers, he threaded the stone into his rosary and gave it a critical stare. Genuine pearls from local freshwater clams given to him by his old master, hung on a thread and spaced intermittently with polished pieces of charcoal, hardened fish scales and silvery rocks. It wasn’t perfect, but Croak hadn’t seen anything more beautiful in many, many years.

A sudden scratch of foot against wet mud broke his trance and the muckling ducked behind a heap of rotting fish.

“Fockin’ hell, bruv, what yer gods-damned step, would ya?”

More scratching and slipping followed, hastened by desperation and fright. A skimpier voice than the first one replied, “Bloody-- oof, sorry, mate. Was an accident, I swear.”

“Issat right?” the first voice replied again. A short whimper was heard, then the sound of an object, likely wooden, smashing against the old boards of the pier. Croak drew a silent sigh. Humans were always like this - always.

“O-oi! What was-- agh!”

“You talkin’ back, issat it?” The whimper grew smaller, replaced instead by gasps and coughing. Croak’s fingers anxiously fingered the pearls of his rosary. Would the black days never end in this purgatory of a city?

“Oi, lads! Got ourselves someone dyin’ for a swim,” the deep voice cackled maliciously. Distant cheers egged it on. The small whimpers had by now been entirely overtaken by struggling snarls coloured by fearful sobs. Croak could hear it try to whisper something before it was deafened out by a deep cackle.

“Feed yer family?! Hah! So you’ve got a wife, huh? Maybe I’ll pay ‘er a visit after ye’re sleepin’ in the Midland Sea, how’s that?”

The sobs intensified. Croak looked down at his rosary and swallowed. He rubbed one of the pieces of charcoal with his slimey, wet fingers and drew across his face the symbols he knew so well by now. As the voices faded away and the ordeal was completed with a distant splash, Croak whispered to himself a sorrowful song in the ancient art of croaksong. His master had taught him every word of the long dead art, explained that it was a most sacred rite to their people - here, in the dead of night, witnessing so close a death of the innocent, would be a most natural place to exercise it.

It started low, almost like a gurgle. His fibers vibrated with the guttural song; his bones quivered with the primal growl. A death necessitated a melancholic tune, as was tradition - at least in the beginning. However, Croak hadn’t know this man, and would therefore maintain the sorrowful undertone throughout the whole song, lest the spirits would be confused about his motivation for singing. After a series of sequences from the depths of his voice, he forgot himself for a moment and unleashed a wailing croak of the highest pitch. Momentarily, he felt a burning joy in his chest, almost intoxicating. He was singing - he was actually singing, expressing the song of his people in honour of the dead. Like the shamans of ancient times, he was--

“Blazes, where the fack is it?!” came a foul snarl not even twenty metres away. Croak shut himself up and immediately scrambled for the water.

“There it is! Get it!” A group of thundering footsteps slapped into wet mud and soft planks behind Croak. The muckling fell onto all fours to pick up speed. Up ahead was the edge of the docks. He reached the edge and jumped. A second later, the lukewarm water of the Midland Sea surrounded him and the voices were shut out. He swam a distance away, still underwater, and surfaced for air once the lights of the docks above had grown dimmer. In the distance, he heard curses and spitting. He slowly crawled ashore and sought refuge between some wrecked crates and barrels. Drawing some panting breaths, he tried to calm himself.

“Fackin’ mucklings,” came a voice from the other side of the barrel wreckage. Croak sucked in his breath and thought prayers to himself.

“... Where are you… Don’t think I didn’t see ya come up!” Feet dragged themselves across the wooden boards. Croak felt his lungs cry out for more air, but he couldn’t allow himself to breathe. A heap of wood struck the floors - the man had overturned the neighbouring barrel wreck. “Damn froggy rats… People are tryin’ to sleep!” Another heap slammed into the ground. Croak squeezed shut his eyes.

Then, however, the steps slowed and their owned clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Waste of my bloody evenin’...” he muttered and the steps faded away into the distance. Croak finally could breathe again and he gasped for it. His people couldn’t sweat, but he wiped his brow almost instinctively anyway. A sensation felt unfamiliar in his hand and he eyed the rosary in it. A black bile of rage bubbled within him, aimed both at his stupidity and humanity - for in his escape, he had shattered one of the pearls given to him by his master. He hammered the floorboards below with his fist; then he did it again and again. As he struck the ground, his fury morphed into sorrow, and it did not take long before he put his aching hand over his eyes and whimpered.

He would sing again for another loss tonight, but it would be as he had done it every other night: On a distant spot with no one around within earshot - completely alone without even the spirits to keep him company.

Abandoned like his heritage.



Princess Taomei - A Stranger at the Door



Spring of 998, Summer Palace in Amarra, provincial capital of Red Clay, Eastern Gu-Wei...
@Slagar

“And hang those flowers up there. No, wait… No, there is much better.” The servant followed the princess’ finger from the centre to the corner of the room, where he promptly hung a large hammock-like bed of flowers from the roof. The princess hummed and pointed to the wall. “On second thought, hang them up on the walls - and make them symmetrical this time.”

The servant craned his head in obedience and did as he was told. Princess Taomei pursed her lips and scanned the hall. Everything would have to be perfect. Spring was nearing its end, and soon the summer heat would make Shi an unbearable place for her dear brother. He would finally come back to her - finally come back and fulfill all those promises he always made in his letters, and--

“Daughter of the Phoenix, princess Taomei,” came a call from the hall door and Taomei’s thoughts returned to reality. She blinked and spun around, her silk dress dancing through the air like a whirlwind of leaves.

“Yes? What is it, messenger?”

The messenger fell to his hands and knees before the princess and put his forehead to the floor, or at least as far down as his large helmet allowed him to. “The peacekeepers on the Narcaepian border have received word that a stranger has entered Red Clay. Further reports say he arrived in Amarra this morning. He says he brings word from the King of Muha!”

Taomei nearly dropped what he was holding, which was a sheet of paper outlining the interiour decoration plan. She looked shocked, almost, which she might as well have been, as she sat down on a nearby chair. The messenger dared look up anxiously for a moment before facing the floor again.

“Our… Our home has sent its ambassador to us?”

The messenger hesitated to answer for a moment. “Yes, Daughter of the Phoenix,” he eventually said. Taomei placed two fingers on her temple and shook her head in disbelief.

“Well, what are you waiting for?! Send word for him to be brought to the palace at once!”

The messenger looked up. “B-but Your Majesty - he could be a fraud!”

Taomei gasped. “How dare you insult one of our own like that?! I will have you drawn from behind a chariot if you even dare repeat such baseless accusations again, do you--”

“Sister Taomei, please,” came a calm, quiet voice behind them. It was the Emperor’s elder brother, Taozan. Taomei quieted down and stared daggers at her brother instead. The messenger appeared to be praying. Taozan put aside the calligraphy station he was using and rose to his feet, his oversized black robes falling to the ground around his feet like sacks of grain. “Messenger, return to the peacekeepers’ office. Have them escort our esteemed guest to the palace. I believe we can judge appropriately whether he is a fraud or not.”

The messenger nodded shiveringly and sprinted back out. The doors shut behind him and left the hall quiet except for the interiour decor workers. Taomei scowled at Taozan. “You let him off too easy. Death would be a kind fate for those who dare accuse our brethren of something so foul as fraud.”

Taozan sighed and intertwined his fingers behind his back. “He didn’t mean it that way. He was only worried for us. Family of the Emperor is just as valuable to criminals as gold and jewels.” He shuffled his way over to his sister and put a hand on her shoulder. “This can potentially be a momentous occasion. No need to sully it with blood and death.”

Taomei huffed. “I hate it when you’re right.” She picked up the interiour design plans and went back to ordering around the servant. Taozan wrinkled his nose in worry and smacked his lips thoughtfully together before returning back to his seat.



Prince Yanri - A Dagger Before Me



Spring of 998, Imperial Palace of Shi, capital of Gu-Wei, northern Gu-Wei...

It was midday - the sun’s angle indicated as much. Birds tweeted innocently in the garden trees, chatting up their neighbours and pecking for bugs under the bark. Insects buzzed idyllically around the flowers and danced to the strings of a guzheng in the distance. On the porch sat a prince, one nearly as beautiful as the garden by his side. With his hand, he pulled a black-tipped brush across a white, rice-paper page. His movements were soft, gentle, controlled; his breathing was similar, easing in and out his mouth in harmony with his strokes. The characters of guwen that formed on the paper were expertly written - each was a work of artistry without deviating too much from a standard font.

Soft footsteps approached. The prince knew so well the weight of these steps - the way the heel connected to the creaking floorboards and rolled over on a ball molested by foot binding, giving them an ever so slight limp. He did not avert his eyes from the paper, for he did not need them to see who was coming. Before long, a warm hand squeezed the shoulder of his free hand.

“My, what’re you writing, Yanri? A poem?” came her voice like silk and cream. She smelled of lavender again. The prince wiped clean the brush with a rag and set it aside.

“A letter, Mother,” he replied softly and sprinkled sawdust over the wet ink, allowing it to dry before rolling it up into a scroll and sealing it with a wax-marked band The queen hummed softly.

“Is that so? To whom, if I may ask?”

“To my brother. It is to wish him well in his coming campaign.” The prince held the letter out in an arbitrary direction. A servant came over, took it with a bow and left. The prince then gestured to the other side of the small table he was sitting by. “Would you join me, Mother?”

“Of course,” said the queen and sat down, her smile as warm as the sunlight itself. She made herself comfortable and the prince snapped his fingers. Some more servants came over and bowed.

“Bring my Mother and I some chopped fruit, biscuits and hot tea. No oranges.” The servants bowed with a quiet ‘as you wish, Your Majesty’ and hurried off, taking the writing itinerary with them. Silence reigned thereafter, broken only by occasional birdsong. The prince stared out to the garden. His mother stared at him, her eyes groggy with dreaminess, complemented by the smile about her lips. The prince gave her a quick glance and snickered.

“What?”

“You look so handsome in the sunlight, my dear,” the queen said softly. The prince snickered some more.

“I have my grandfather’s looks, after all - you’ve said so yourself.”

“Numerous times. All in hope that everyone will accept it as fact - even your father.”

As if destiny had elected for it to happen, a holler of laughter escaped a nearby part of the palace, a fairly distinct deep voice present among all the women. The queen flinched, her eyes scowling at the tabletop. Yanri scowled over his shoulder.

“... How can you let him treat you like this?” asked the prince venomously. The spite in his eyes was further reinforced by his hand massaging the pommel of a short sword on his hip. The other, he tightened into a fist on the tabletop. “He’s mocking you - mocking us!”

“I know, Yanri, I know…” replied the queen and reached out wrap his fist in her hands. “But you know the customs of your grandfather. I will have to endure it - just as I have for the past century.” She brought her son’s fist to her lips and kissed it. “... That’s why I’m so glad to have you by my side.”

The prince swallowed and slowly pulled his hand to himself. The queen blinked anxiously, her eyes full of questions.

“Not, not in public, Mother. You know, you--...” His voice became a whisper. “... You know I love you, but we cannot let others know that -you- are unfaithful. Father would have our mutilated corpses rotting on pikes above the Phoenix’ Nest for all to see.”

The queen blinked, her eyes shifting away with anxiety. “You… You’re right… You’re always right.” She snickered to herself. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking…” She rose to her feet. Yanri sighed.

“Mother, I--”

“It’s quite alright, Yanri. I’m… Happy you care so much for us.” She gave him a warm smile. “It’ll be our turn soon. I can feel it.” With that, she walked down the porch, her hand fingering the leaves of the many shrubs to her left along the way.

Yanri remained by the table, and as the servants came with snacks and tea, he requested that they bring back his writing equipment. As he sat by the table writing, he could hear the rowdier and rowdier noises from the room behind him. It affected his form, soft curves in his characters becoming erratic edges. His brush lost its smooth shape eventually, aggressive strokes ruining the tip. By the end, his letters were nothing but paper smudged with blots of ink.

The prince held up his letter to inspect it. The garden had grown dark as clouds blotted out the sun. Birds had deserted it, and the insects had moved to distant flowers. To the chorus of the voices, he read within him the hateful letter:

“Dear Emperor Yandi, son of Yanshen, founder of the Chu Dynasty,

You are the phoenix, o Emperor - son of fire and ash, master of life and death. You are the sun and the moon, the link ‘tween heaven and earth. Undoubtedly, you are a divine among mortals.

Such power, such immortality - the hubris within you overpowers them both. Water chokes flame, the seas was away ashes and embers. Life will leave you; death, consume you. The sun will set and so will the moon, and as the heavens reign flame upon your worthless spirit, the earth shall swallow your corpse and torment it forever.

Beware, Father - for even gods will perish before the fury of mortalkind.

Signed,
Prince Yanri, son of Yandi, your successor.”


Immediately upon reading it completely, Yanri froze. He ran inside the palace and found the first and nearest brazier, depositing the letter inside. He watched the paper crumble to ashes and felt the anxiety in his chest fade, but not disappear. What had made him write those words? Had he been caught by anyone, even someone so lowly as a passerby handmaiden, it would’ve been over for him. He smacked his cheek angrily.

“You fool,” he spat to himself. A small host of curious servants had gathered behind him, spearheaded by his little sister Wanmei. She approached him carefully, her round, somewhat misaligned eyes frowning slightly.

“Brother Yanri? Are you alright?”

Yanri turned and nodded slowly after a moment. “Y-yes… I’m fine. I just thought an insect had landed on my cheek.”

“Why are you by the fire? It’s hot outside,” Wanmei pointed out. The prince frowned.

“What, can’t a prince of Chu allow himself a moment by the fire? How about you, sister Wanmei? What are you doing following me like this? And you, servants? Have you nothing else to do but to stalk royalty like this?”

“W-with all due respect, Your Majesty,” went one of the servants. The prince took a moment to look around and colour drained from his face. “These are the kitchens, great Son of the Phoenix,” finished the servant. Cooks and waiters stared oddly at the prince from every angle. Prince Yanri blinked.

“Y-yes… Of course. Forgive me, I have been quite rash and rude. Back to work. I will take my leave.” The prince stormed out past his sister and the servants at the door, heading down the labyrinthian hallways.

“H-hey, wait up!” came a voice behind him. He didn’t turn around, for he knew who it was, and soon Wanmei had shown up by his side. “What’s the hurry?”

“What’re you doing here, Wanmei?” sighed Yanri.

“Why, following my awesome, lovely brother, of course! Why else would I be here?”

“-Why- are you following me?”

“Because I can tell you’re lonely - and that you need your beautiful sister to keep you company!” she giggled and took the hem of his robe in her hand. Yanri groaned and pulled his robe to him again. Wanmei huffed.

“What? Why are you so angry?”

“Can’t you tell?” Yanri replied back sharply. Wanmei stopped and put her hands on her hips.

“You’re always so mean! I just try to be nice to you and all you ever do is throw me aside like, like, like some…” Yanri slowed down and turned, his tired eyes showing her a shred of pity.

“Some, some… Ah!” Wanmei stopped mumbling as Yanri took her hand and knelt down before her. The young elf blushed and blinked. “Wh-what’re you doing?”

“Wanmei… Would you do anything for me?”

The princess swallowed. “O-of course, brother. A-anything.” Yanri packed his hands around hers even tighter.

“Do you mean that?”

The princess’ eyes took on a firm glow. “Yes!”

“Then… Could you do me a favour?” Yanri quickly extracted a letter from the inside of his robe. It was different than those he had written before - and the seal was not of the royal kind. She put it in Wanmei’s hands and smiled at her.

“You must bring this by yourself. Trust no one else with this letter. If you do…” His voice trailed off into silence. Wanmei swallowed.

“O-of course, but… To whom?”

“The Black Dragon Triads.”
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Infernal
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Another day of work for the Guldani Empire, Setsua thought to himself as he descended from one of the many mountain passes to the forests below. The king declared that farmland be prepared to better feed the people, so it fell upon him, the prince, to insure that things went smoothly. While not as exciting as going out and conquering, Setsua did enjoy the possibility of seeing new places, and perhaps even meeting new people to speak with, maybe even swap stories with.

"Are you excited to explore these new lands?" He asked one of the loggers traveling with him.

The Goliath merely shrugged. "Just wanna pay my tax and go back to my village. My wife is heavy with child, and I want to be there to greet the newborn."

Fair enough, Setsua figured, though he hoped their lack of enthusiasm didn't mean their work was going to suffer. Family was well and good, but if this job didn't get done, then the Empire as a whole would suffer, and his father would be without the resources he needed to make an effective attempt at waging war, should it be required. Honestly he wasn't certain they needed it though, since they would already have the war machines to make their forces something to be feared. Even thinking about such things brought a shiver down his spine, and he wondered just how much death would come in their wake. Would the gods be pleased with such a large amount of destruction? Setsua made a note of it so he would remember to speak to a priest about it later.

Half a day was spent before they arrived at the forest, the sun making its way to the horizon, ever closer by the moment. There wasn't another minute to lose, so the laborers went to work at tearing down the trees, which would then be stripped of branches and placed into a cart, pulled by oxen back up to the mountains. It was difficult work, suited to the muscular hands of the Guldani people, and it would serve them well in projects to come. Houses, bridges, whatever is required will be satisfied by the resources they were gathering today.

Axes met wood, and before night came, the first trees will fall to their efforts. Setsua met with the foreman of the project, a balding Goliath with scars over his right bicep, in order to get an understanding of what is to come.

"Will it be possible to begin building a community in this place?" He asked.

Nodding, he answered. "Yes, my prince, though I worry about what may be beyond the trees."

"What do you mean?"

"Legend tells of other Goliath tribes, scattered through these lands. They too had suffered under the hands of the elves, but were unable to escape into the mountains as our people had done." He shifted his footing, unsure of whether or not to continue. "The legends also tell of how these other tribes would...sacrifice people to their strange gods."

Souring at this news, Setsua decided it might be best to have a little security here, to insure everyone was safe. Whether or not there were indeed other tribes of Goliaths around, he still felt it best to have some warriors nearby should they need to mount a defense. Sending a runner to the nearest city, he knew it might be some time before they got here, but it would be fine. All they needed to do was harvest the lumber, establish a camp, and return to the mountains that they called home.

At least he hoped it went so smoothly.
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Infernal
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First contact with the other tribe was bloody, cruel, and filled with violence. They came at night, surprising them, and killing many of the guards Setsua put in place in a matter of moments. Then they turned on the laborers, and it became a sport of seeing just how many of the wood workers they could capture, and drag off into the forest with nets. He tried, he really did, but it was difficult in the darkness, and there were so many of them. At the end of it all, he couldn't do anything, and instead, he ran with the others, hoping to flee the nets of these savage attackers.

The Sun brought with it the safety of knowing that it was all over, but in reality, it had only just begun. Looking over the ruins of the recently built outpost, Setsua feldt within himself a deep seated anger, an animal that would not be refused. A messenger was sent, to tell of this attack, and to make the call for warriors.

War was on the horizon.

Setsua of course was given command of the army. It was a loose conglomeration of soldiers, taken from different villages with their own specialties. Some men held spears, some swords, others axes, slings, and more commonly, farm tools or bricks. A small handful were professional soldiers, guards or perhaps even adventurers answering the call, outfitted in armor, armed to the teeth, and hungry for battle. These were his tools, and Setsua had to use them in such a way that would ensure victory, or be faced with a crippling defeat. That wasn't going to happen, not again.

Making the trek out into the wilderness, he entrusted the renewal and further administrative duties of the new outpost to a noble his father trusted for the job. Hopefully he did well, as Setsua was going to need those resources very soon.

Along the way they would meet with hunting parties. Some were quick enough to get away, while others felt the vengeful fury of Setsua's blade as it plunged into their chests. All the death in the world wouldn't suppress the screams he still heard in his dreams, but at the very least it allowed him some comfort knowing that they were being avenged. It was not until they came upon the first city of what he recently learned was the Den'suma country, that the war was going to be especially brutal for them.

Outside of those walls was a gathering of the savages, tall like them, with the same grey skin and all white eyes, even their clothing of leather, skins and furs were similar to their own, but they knew there were greater differences than what was on the surface. Those Goliaths were the ones who attacked without provocation, killing and capturing anyone they could get their hands on, taking no mercy at all. For Setsua and his people, these neighbors might have well been demons in disguise, and it was their duty to slay them in kind. While he wanted nothing more than to kill them here and now, he knew that patience was required, and so took a different plan into action.

His army embedded themselves into the forest, separating his army into various groups to be headed by his lieutenants. Using this separation, he intended on starving them out, killing whomever decided to venture into the forest, and denying them the hunted meat they so desperately hungered for. If they wished to eat, they would have to risk their lives for it, and Setsua intended on making sure that none of these monsters made it out of this forest alive.
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Tangletail
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Tangletail Keyboard Knight

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Captain General Vaalteralde - Gu-Wei Capital City Gates


The mid-day sun had crested high into the air, and only just began to slowly give way into the evening and casting a warm orange hued light onto the world. Birds fluttered energetically from tree to tree in search of food, or crossed large distances in the blue sky in search of a mate. Their songs creating a peaceful din that could ease a man’s spirit. A cool breeze brought the grass to rustle a soft whooshing chorus. The very air alight with the aromas and splendors of spring. The subtle scents of oak and ash. The fertile aroma of the soil. Subtle hints of pine. And the perfume of wild flowers and pollen. To many, this would be a truly serene landscape, and worthy for elves.

To a Kobold known as Captain-General Vaalteralde, this was his own personal hell. It was as if the very gods of creation had decided to create something that was so loaded with pure irony, that it managed to form a paradoxical juxtaposition between what one perceived, and what one felt. If there was supposed to be any hint of peace about this, some beauty of tranquility, something that was good for the ‘spirit’ as he had often heard… he could not find it.

Being so far away from his closest friend, and second in command lulled the Captain-General into a foul humor for the duration of the journey. It was a bond so rare, that lightning could strike the same person twice in a single night… and again the next week before a Kobold could hold a relationship of any sort for longer than a second. An event that causes a complete change in the Kobold’s typical psyque. But the end result is separation could have an equally detrimental effect. In Vaal’s case, it made him into a creature more irate than a sea sick crocodile. His entourage knew well to step lightly around him after the first day. But that did not help.

For the past week and a half, the Kobold captain had led a procession of thirty draconians soldiers, and twelve kobold skirmishers through the wetlands of Gu-Wei to ascertain an audience with the imperial family of the Empire. Many of the soldiers he had with him were veterans, and at least half of them had earned the right of their midnight blue tabards. The markers of soldiers hand picked for their show of experience, valor, and deadly skill.The Claws of Tiamat, they were called and for good reason.

And yet… this entire journey had proven that no title, no acts of valor, no amount of honor, no years of service and experience could take the fundamental behavior of being a soldier out of a Draconian. And consequently, toss the commanding officer into a pit of rusty slag. The bitching, and moaning. Every, breath, every step, every second, every hour, on the hour, every day, by the day. The insistent bitching and moaning soldiers make, knowing full well it would not actually do any good… but to vent. Only like smoking in a tavern, those vented fumes were likely to bite at someone.

Despite being no strangers to other lands, they still complained. They complained about the chill air, saying that it was an affront to all that is right in the world. Compared to the warm, dry breeze of the desert landscape, the air of Gu-Wei seemed to be perfectly saturated to constantly soak your clothing so thoroughly that you would always be soaked without ever touching a body of water. During breaks between marching, they threw tantrums when they talked about the grass stuck in the claws of their feet. Hissing and fussing over how itchy and scratchy it was while they picked it out. And the accursed plant was everywhere, so there was no end to that one.

But what was the most infuriating element of the wetlands? What was the element that could turn a band of the most seasoned and battle hardened sons of bitches Vaalteralde has ever seen into hysterical hatchlings? The muck. The god forsaken mud. It did not help that the group chosen to move through the back roads and country to avoid causing a panic with the Citizens whom had never seen anything else than human and elves in their lives. Thus there was no end to the substance, and no end to the howling complaints of the band.

And Vaal could sympathize. The diminutive kobold stood no more than two feet, and six inches in height. The depths that would send the draconians down to their knees, would have them dig their unfortunate commander out of the muck. And each time, the captain would rattle out a cantankerous flurry of curses.

But long last… they came to the end of their hellish journey. They had parked at source of fresh water not more than an hour’s walk away from the Capital City. The band had used this time to clean themselves up. They had broken out the detergents they had brought along for the journey and set to work at cleaning themselves, their gear and their uniform. The elated murmurings was enough to skim the foam off the simmering cauldron that represented his irritation.

Once finished, the traveled worn and unwashed muddied bodies of Draconians and Kobolds had been restored back to the awe inspiring soldiers that they were. Scales of sky blue, Vermarilian Red, Emerald Green, and so forth all reached a luster to glint like the stars in the sky. Sapphire and Midnight Blue tabbards clean, pressed, and proudly on display. Banners out and flowing with the wind. They were ready to seek their audience to announce the mobilization of their army.

To which, they politely informed a city guard to request an audience with the Imperial family.
Hidden 4 yrs ago Post by Slagar
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Slagar Lord of Disappointment, Witch King of Saltmar

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=-=Shadow over Edgk, Summer 998 2nd Age=-=


The high banners of Zengher, its red and black banners depicting the Olman eagle crashing down via the black cockatrice waved side by side with the banners of Muoarma, as Duke Nausk Gotembaug led 45,000 troops out of Zengher, one of the most sizable armies ever mustered by a province. Reinforced by reinforcements from eastern Muoarma, Nausk and his elite retinue rode at the rear of his army, many of his fellow lords, barons, and villagers having come to see the army off. Many were confused, as only few in Muoarma even knew where the army was heading, many fearful nobles had suspected war with the goblin republic, or Varkovnia, but Nausk had still kept the option pretty vague, as he wanted to maintain at least some element of guessing as to not alert the ever isolated people of Ok’va. The levy of troops, their red and black cloth armor and clattering of spears danced along the road melded with the many wagons of the siege corps and the armored step of the Uesbergan, who were being reinforced from other Uesbergan units from the inner lands of the capital.

Nausk had, rather reluctantly, tried to keep good contact with his co-consul, Duke Garlor Olo Veunbera, who had been mostly silent. Not sure of his co-consul’s plans, Nuask did not want to set up his troops fully yet within the poorly developed land of Edgk. Nausk knew little of Edgk itself, but had viewed it’s nobility poorly. The Desbaugs were infamous for their arrogance and constant bickering amongst their nobles, as the land was poorly divided up when it was first conquered. Squabbles over small hamlets were common, and local lords often were known to be pretty unreasonable. Nausk didn’t want to rely too much on their aid or hospitality to supply his troops, so he decided he would set up a trade route between Zengher and Edgk through Mousmar.

Nausk had no end to choices to set up a temporary camp in northern Mousmar, but decided to camp along the road near the keep of a bordering barony of Himsberg. The Keep of Himsberg housed a long time acquaintance of Nausk, and after a short exchange of letters, Baron Gan Olo Cusven gave permission for the army to stay in his land. As Nausk’s army began to set up in their tents, his new found companion Yekseen and her Okan apprentice Forgoia invited the duke to drink with them along with his scout Zar’usaga. When Nausk arrived at the site, the four sat amongst the trees and began to drink elven wine.

“I must ask, Yekseen, how did you end up doing some job for a noble?” Zar had commented. The elven sorceress gave a half hearted sigh. “I need money mostly, and a lot of it. I see you haven’t changed in the last four hundred years.”

Zar chuckled and drank, much to Nausk’s surprise “You two know each other?”

“About as well as all Eldan and Muhan elves knew each other, Nausk.” Zar reminded him “However, we met some time ago, when King Kadus use to rule this land, and we were relocating some elven villages to Souk Mar.”

“Well, more like kicking elven villagers to Souk Mar more like. I swear, an Eldan elder may as well be moving an oak.” Yekseen took another more somber drink.

Nausk turned his attention to Forgoia who had been drinking poorly, or more accurately, like an animal. After wiping her mouth she hicked and set her beer wine down carefully on the ground.

“I must ask, how do you two get around? I thought only the mage guilds controlled magic, I’m surprised neither of you actually work for them as far as you told me.” Nausk asked

“Well it isn’t easy, but I've got friends in all the right places, making them is the hard part.” Yekseen replied “I'm good friends with the Guild of Sorcerers. I’ve helped them out of a bind or two.”

Nausk motioned towards the distracted apprentice, who had since taken out a mage’s book and began looking it over as those around her talked.

Yekseen shrugged “That is a more complicated story, but if you are asking if I practice what Aedeth Mar’s ‘great guild’ practices, then no.”

Nausk raised an eyebrow, and Yekseen relented. “I was approached by my apprentice when she ran, but I believe my apprentice can speak better on it, right Forg?” Forg looked up from her book and nodded. “Oh. Well, if you are asking my lord if I am a thrall, then no, I came here willingly.”

“I suspected as much.” Zar said “But my lord also knows all too well of those Okan who flee their lands willingly, such as Peloaban if you had not met already.”

“Oh, right. I think I did meet him, is he the fat one or the inbred looking one?” Forg had almost shouted out, rather naively, drawing a short embarrassed chuckle from Yekseen. Nausk shoke his head “I knew Peloaban as. . .erm. . .neither. I must ask, how do you avoid the gaze of slavers of the guild? I thought the law forbids free Okan in Muoarma?”

Forg shrugged “Not a lot notice when I follow my mistress around I suppose, it's not like there is guards checking if I have some rope collar or not underneath my cloak.”

Nausk scratched his beard and looked at Yekseen “I see. Either way, I must commend you on your skill back in Zengher.”

“No no, I must admit, I must commend you on your willingness to listen to my advice. A rare commodity amongst humanity. . .by experience.” Yekseen took another drink.

The four continued to drink into the night, speaking to one another. As Nausk returned to his tent to sleep, he had learned much of the two strange sorceresses. Yekseen was old, but extended a more younger look thanks to her impressive collection of glamors, and told several stories of her ‘boring’ life as a local healer, bringer of rain for easily convinced peasants, and a temporary court champlain of a long forgotten minor lord. Forg on the other hand revealed only bits of pieces of herself, having fled Ok’va for a reason she preferred to have remained private. What Nausk would come to learn however was that she had very little connection back home, and her clan wasn’t very important, a minor clan who was ‘kind of, but not really’ close with a druid circle inside the Ok’van southern marshes.

Nausk began making preparations in the morning to move his army to Edgk, but was approached by a messenger by the Baron of Himsberg. The baron had wished to meet with Nausk before he left, about a more private matter, but one he had not wished to divulge. Nausk was at first suspicious and tried to press the messenger for more information, but relented. Nausk called for Yekseen and her apprentice to accompany him and his captains, joined by his long time friend Zerban Lulsbera to this meeting. When Nausk arrived, he was greeted by Gan and his men, an older gray haired nobles who had a youthful complexion. Nausk was very blunt in his summons, even as Gan greeted his guests to a feast he had prepared. Gan approached Nausk and his captains with bits of information, and wished to know more from Nausk himself. Apparently, Gan had been approached recently by a mysterious stranger, asking for favors and wishing to delay Nausk’s advance into Edgk. Nausk guessed quickly this was Garlor’s spies trying to hound glory for himself, but Gan was not so certain. Gan remarked the man had a ‘sickly look’ and ‘wore a strange and yet familiar badge, almost like a guild of sorts’ but he couldn’t recall much on it. Nausk’s captains, especially Zerban, remarked this was ill tidings, and wished to avoid a similar situation which happened in the capital.

Nausk and Gan talked for awhile, but Yekseen snuck out of the feast to meet with her apprentice who had been barred from entering by Gan’s guards, having assumed her to be a common servant. As night turned to twilight, the party turned drunken as Nausk and Zerban watched two of the captains happily sing with Gan’s soldiers. Yekseen was soon joined by Nausk and the two talked a bit more on more trivial things, and before long Gan entered with a half drunken attitude. The group came upon a high wall, in which Gan became more drunk, but Yekseen who had kept a more keen mind began to notice strange things. Guards were going missing as the night moved on, and despite the keep as Himsberg having several obvious rat nests, several rats kept scampering in rapid pace throughout the area. Gan became distracted as 4 to 8 large rats panicked between his legs, and as Gan turned, before both Nausk and Yekseen’s eyes Gan was torn apart in a sudden burst of fury. A large and imposing black figure leaped down from an upper tower and tore Gan apart in such haste Neither Nausk and Yekseen could react.

Nausk drew his sword, which just barely saved his life when a humanoid beast leapt at him next and bit into his sword and smashed it’s iron to bits. Nausk got a good look at the monstrous being, a humanoid like face with rat-like features, a snout and long teeth along with huge and imposing fingernails which were painted red with the gore of the Baron of Himsberg. Yekseen let out a firey spell at the beast, knocking it onto the courtyard, as the two called for aid. Guards who were both drunk and sober arrived, as Nausk saw the beast decapitated one guard with an easy blow, and tore at the armor at another. Fast as wind, the beast went to make it’s escape, climbing up the keep as it injured or killed Himsberg soldiers along the way. Yekseen and her apprentice tried to shoot a freezing spell at it, but it barely slowed the creature’s advance as it entered the keep. Nausk commanded the remaining soldiers, entering the keep and rushed their way to the main feasting hall where Zerban and the other captains were thankfully still alive.

Yekseen informed Nausk what the creature was, having faced one before in her travels, having recognized the creature’s facial features. A Rat-Toothed Vampire, an undead horror which dwelled across the old core lands of Muha, it’s absurd speed and power was only matched by its ‘traditions’, as Nausk looked on skeptically as Yekseen and Forg distributed rice and salt to some soldiers, going room to room throwing it on the floor. The vampires had a strange affinity for trying to desperately clean up messes, but after a fruitless search, Nausk took control of the castle and bunkered down for the night until morning, where the beast was more vulnerable. Fearful of further attacks, Nausk did not sleep throughout much of the night, having kept three guards on duty in his room and watching the window of his room.

Once the keep in Himsberg was secure, and the body of it’s baron buried, Nausk restricted information and formed an emergency taskforce of those inside the keep to figure out what had happened. Nausk sent his captains in small groups to secure the holdings of Himsberg and begin tracking the vampire, with Yekseen informing them to look for ‘odd placements of blood and wood’. Rat-Toothed vampires were highly intelligent then their Olman cousins, and that they were partial masters of illusions, and thus Yekseen gave each captain a silver coin to throw at ‘tricks of the eye’ which would supposedly shatter such illusions. Yekseen also demanded that the captains begin rounding up night patrols and other workers who primarily worked in the night, as they were likely vampire disguises. Nausk wondered how the vampire had gotten into the keep, and began interrogating the local guard.

Nausk learned that a younger and diligent man with a short beard and a thick accent had come on as a night patrolman for the keep over a year ago, and that he often only stayed in the barracks for the previous winter. Nausk and Yekseen determined the guardsman, Femen Olo Granger had been this man, and was the only guardsman missing. Nausk took a small force and prowled around the village, learning that the Granger family used to live on a farmstead far outside of town, and that the last living member of the family was an elderly huntsman who died a few years ago. Upon entering the Granger household, an old abandoned peasant shack, they found a strange variety of clues. Yekseen and an honor guard dredged up from the shack a wrinkled black and white banner of House Cursbaug, which surprised Yekseen.

Yekseen explained she had use to have good dealings with the former noble family of Himsberg, the Cursbaugs had been a long standing family who were targeted for purges during the great dynastic purge, and that their former Marshal, the founder of House Cusven had personally arrested and killed them in return for their holdings. Yekseen wondered if the vampire was a member of the purged household in some way, a theory which Nausk asked more about. Yekseen theorized as they continued to tear open the old lair that if members of the old household escaped, and were plotting to get their lands back with aid from a vampire, something that wasn’t outside the imagination of the elven sorceress. Nausk shuttered at such thinking, especially any Muoarman dealing the undead to reclaim their ancestral home. After delving through the vampire’s lair, finding only minor trinkets and some bones of some unfortunate beggars, Nausk had the lair burnt and returned to the keep to formulate a new plan.

Nausk asked his elven friend and elite scout Zar’usaga about tracking the monster, in which his friend sadly had no clue how to even start. Instead, he offered a less traditional approach, wondering if the vampire had a primary hunting ground. Nausk poured over a tome, but as he did, the political situation inside the keep began to degrade. Concerned peasants and minor nobles began to ask for Gan in which Nausk decided to step in to try to relieve. Nausk then had to contend with two rival factions in Gan’s court, both became very quickly informed on his death as they were present during the feast, in which Gan’s Marshal of Arms and his captains wished to promote a distant relative of Gan (and who was also the Marshal’s cousin) to Baron. The other faction, led by 7 distant friends of Gan from Souk Mar, wanted to elect one of their own. Neither faction was friendly and were not very competent, and each greedily asked for permission to settle the dispute. Nausk knew that giving either group would mean having to deal with them further to secure his supply network to Edgk, which he dreaded deeply.

During the 2nd day since the murder, Zar’usaga made an interesting discovery. A ‘haunted forest’ was discovered where several mutilated corpses of both men and animals had been found in an outlying village. Nausk and Yekseen went out at once to investigate, and after some searching found a secret cabin in the woods. Inside, they found a very well kept apartment, which was recently abandoned in a rush. Yekseen explained that Rat-Toothed vampires were cursed with being mannerly and addicted to cleanliness, and often their lairs were well kept. Even the small pile of animals bones and various old tattered uniforms of huntsmen, guards, bandits, and smiths were all lined up perfectly and stitched neatly. The two discovered a small journal, in which Yekseen became even more surprised.

“Humsbak? How?”

Nausk asked as well, Yekseen then told the duke of Humsbak Cursbaug, son of the last Cursbaug Baron. She swore she had seen Humsbak hanged and his body quartered and thrown into the sea many years ago, and had once known him personally as a rash but well kept boy. Yekseen was confused herself, as Rat-Toothed vampires at least required a fresh and living body to pass on their curse, and that their tiny gangs very rarely expanded every 200 or so years. The journal didn’t fill in many details but mad ramblings of Humsbak, but it did confirm at least his want for revenge on Gan, or more specifically his family line. However, what was also interesting to the two was that Humsbak, had wanted to raid the barony’s library, to further extend his regicide, not knowing he had already completed his task by killing Gan. The vampire apparently had been unable to corner Gan in the night, and Nausk figured that the two walking on the walls of the Keep and far away from sober guards was just the perfect opportunity for the vampire who dropped his disguise as a common night patrolman.

Nausk wanted to bring the creature to justice as quickly as possible, despite Yekseen wondering if she could just talk to him after all these years. Despite these small differences, both agreed they needed to trap the vampire, and likely small parties exploring it’s lair and it going into hiding only made them easy targets as well. Yekseen devised a plan, wanting to lure it into a magical circle with a wall of force with any being to walk into it, but in order to do it, they would need bait. Nausk offered to find bait, and asked Yekseen to prepare her circle near the keep.

Nausk and Zar’usaga at first went to Himsberg’s Marshal of Arms, asking him for his claimate to help in the plan, which he profoundly rejected. When Nausk asked his rival for the same for help, they also rebuffed him, calling his designs mad, and that the vampire had already completed its task and would ‘slink back to hell like always’. Annoyed and angry, Nausk and Zar’usaga came up with a plan instead, and decided to kidnap the marshal’s cousin. With aid from Zar’usaga, Nausk and his guard stole the young man from the keep and dragged him to a household outside the keep and explained the situation to him. As Consul, Nausk demanded the man to obey his word on the matter which the man reluctantly agreed to be bait, on the condition that Nausk supported his faction’s claim. Nausk agreed reluctantly as well, but the group soon set out to Yekseen’s location.

Forg found the group along the road and showed them to Yekseen’s location, but rather predictably decided to not set up near the keep, but rather far outside of it, near a burned out hamlet which had been an old bandit stomping ground. Yekseen prepared the circle and the bait by having him ‘live’ in one of the nearby huts, and disappointed Nausk by having him make a statement so that the vampire would hear via rumor. Nausk returned to the keep, and the next day made a public announcement of the death of the Baron, and declared that his heir was being chosen and that a suitable candidate was nearby the keep, hidden away and was being prepared to be brought to the keep and rule. Both court factions, furious, stormed out of the main hall and declared they would promote their own candidates, saying the inheritance of Gan was violated, even though the Marshal’s faction had decided not to reveal their own just yet, mostly due to the fact he was missing.

Predictably, there were a string of strange attacks and reports, but eventually during the 5th night in Himsberg, Nausk was returning to Yekseen alone where he began to feel trailed by an unknown force. He met a strange man in the night, but after 3 times passing the same man did Nausk realize he was the vampire trailing him. Nausk nearly rode past him a fourth time, where he looked back to see a small group of riders also trailing him, and were clearly not bandits, but Himsberg guards. Nausk didn’t wish to stop and rode straight ahead to the meeting place and as he arrived he shouted loudly at Yekseen and his guard, and noticed a shadow creeping up on his bait. Only a fiery blast from Yekseen and the man running from hut to hut kept the vampiric menace at bay as they tried to lure it into the magical trap.

Yet the planned ambush did not go well, as the vampire began to attack desperately to kill Nausk’s baited man, a group of mercenaries and Himsberg guards joined the fray as well, trying to recapture the Marshal’s cousin. The factional mercenaries, while trying to avoid Nausk, were also trying to attack his honor guard still trying to hold off the vampire. Eventually, even the Himsberg Marshal of Arms arrived and began trying to command his men as they were torn apart before his eyes to recapture his cousin. Nausk and Yekseen were able to regroup in a larger hut, and watched their separated forces holding back both the vampire and mercenaries. The Marshal then brought out crossbows, trying to shoot at the vampire and Nausk’s men, but in the firefight which ensued, the Marshal’s cousin was struck by a bolt and stumbled out of the hut in a mad dash for his own safety, only to be swooped up and beheaded by the vampiric attacker. Nausk cursed as he returned to the fray, with Yekseen was able to use her spellwork to force the vampire towards the entrapping circle, carefully guided by her apprentice using an ice spell to keep him from moving faster.

Once inside the circle, Nausk watched as the once nimble horror with a rattish figure transform back into an older and pale man with a patchwork of noble and peasant clothes. Nausk ordered his men to then chase off the mercenaries and the Marshal, and looked over the casualties. Nausk’s bait had been butchered, and some of his men had grievous injuries from both fighting off the vampire and the mercenaries. Nausk wanted blood, but it seemed he now had at least one being to make up for it. When Nausk and Yekseen approached the vampire, Yekseen planned to burn the being alive within the entrapment circle. Yet, as they approached, Yekseen relented.

“Humsbak, is that truly you?” She asked. The vampire looked at her and only gave a weak nod. “You have come to kill me?” It replied.

“Yes. You killed a nobleman and another, not to mention countless more.” Nausk leaned on his sword, looking at the figure. Humsbak looked at Nausk and shrugged “Is that not what we all do? Do not judge my justice, for even our rulers hold our heads for the pike.”

“Justice?” Nausk huffed, insulted “We are a civilized people, what you vicious vermin call justice is just murder.”

“You were not there, oh Duke. Nor were your fathers, when Baold Penosbaug slaughtered my family, for daring to oppose his tyranny. Where were you and your ancestors when my family were hanged and torn asunder by those we once called friend and servant. This nobleman shared the blood of those who slaughtered my kin wholesale, and I have lived alone and in the woods while he drank from my father’s wine and danced on my mother’s grave.”

“I was going to ask, Humsbak, but how did you become. . .this?” Yekseen said, twisting the conversation as Nausk looked on furiously.

“I ran from the keep injured and as I ran into the woods, I was chased. . .by something else. I was enjoined to a clan of devils, vampires, who took me in when I awoke in those woods. I separated from them shortly thereafter, and found out I was dead. Some fool villager who took on my face pretended to be me in order to lay claim to my home.”

“Vampires of your kind. . .they don’t take leaving clans well.” Yekseen had looked fascinated. Humsbak touched the invisible wall with his hands and shrugged. “They didn’t, so I killed them.”

Yekseen asked a few more questions, and after discussing some other minor details, Yekseen asked for three impossible things of Nausk. Nausk listened dumbfounded as Yekseen nearly begged to allow Humsbak to go, to allow him to return to his family home, and rule as a loyal servant. Yekseen wished to see her old friend to have a better life, which Nausk was extremely vocal about in denying. Yet, Yekseen related more of the tragedy of Cursbaugs, with how their Marshal had framed them for treason and before even a trial could have been set, used his influence to kill the family and claim his household for himself. Humsbak had seemed to accept his fate of death at first, but Nausk still had many obvious reluctant arguments against this action, primarily amongst them was that Humsbak was dead, and also undead. Yet, Yekseen promised Nausk she could devise not only a proper disguise and story, but would involve the Guild of Sorcerers to keep watch over him. Yekseen then appealed to Nausk’s pragmatism, saying that Humsbak would be loyal and would secure his supply lines and reward his army with troops, materials, and income. Nausk thought on this, and after some further convincing, Nausk agreed, but under his own terms.

The next day, Nausk and a man named “Karl” Cursbaug came back to the keep, an odd and twitchy man with pale skin. Nausk presented the man to court as the original family of Himsberg, and announced that he would restore the Cursbaugs to their rightful lands, much to the shock of the court. “Karl” sat on the throne, emotionless and awkwardly, and thanked Nausk for having found him in the burned out huts and saving him from a vampire. The Marshal of Himsberg angrily reminded the court that the Cursbaugs were a dead family, and that even if they were alive, they were stripped of their title. Nausk then reminded the court that Gan nor his family had heirs, and because of their inability to produce heirs, they were clearly cursed by the gods, and the gods have chosen the Cursbaugs to rule once again. Later that night, the Marshal and his faction went missing and “Karl” quickly put a new guardsman in charge to “investigate”, and soon the remaining factions of the court simply collapsed shortly thereafter.

As promised, although Nausk and his captains who were in the know had been very silent and disgusted by it, “Karl” began to supply Himsberg’s troops, money, and resources into Nausk’s army. As Yekseen promised, Nausk waited for three sorcerers to appear in the dead of night who met with “Karl” and began preparing him for court life, but more importantly, began to use their magic to try to ‘cure’ and ‘weaken’ his condition. Nausk refused to dine with the beastial man, but Yekseen however met with him often until it was time for the army to march, the two talked about their long time adventurers and the tragedies which transpired in those days. Nausk refused to speak on the incident at Himsberg and when Yekseen brought it up, Nausk was quick to say “I will not speak of Himsberg or what has happened there again, and neither will you in my presence.” With that, the army finally was able to move into Edgk.
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While Nausk was away, his wife, the Duchess Penela Gotembaug had been caring for her children, but was almost as much of a powerful force as her husband was in terms of ruling, although her fist was far more iron then her husband’s. With her husband gone, Penela began the long process of repairing her husband’s reputation from the spring’s incident, along with supporting her husband’s efforts as best she could. Having known of the grand invasion that was planned by the Grand Duchess, Penela had not wished for the Penosbaugs to further bully her family around, and began making frequent trips to the outlying nobility to host games and feasts with in order to promote the Gotembaug name. Yet, as she was gone, her reign over the duchy also began to slip, as rabble rousers calling themselves the Bauskberg Vandals had been building up pressure on Zengher’s borders. The cliche of bandits were mostly older soldiers who felt pushed out by the rural nobles, given only an option between subservience to nobility as serfs or poverty in the cities. Having made the town of Bauskberg their main base of operations, Penela often had to return home to command her forces. Without her guidance, the bandits would often win support amongst the southern villages and bullied it’s nobility to support their many odd causes.

Penela decided, much to her own worry, decided to send a letter to her estranged son and heir, Kazam Gotembaug. Kazam had not been home in over 5 years, and refused to speak to family since joining the Order of the Black Rose. Kazam and his father Nausk had been at odds over politics, neither wishing to agree with one another. Kazam had a more progressive mind for things, and believed much of his father’s work was unfair and overly traditional, which led him into a heated argument. Penela wrote to the grand master of the order, Zarl Olo Numbaug, who had been trying to keep his fragile order together in Tannis. When Zarl received the letter, passing it along to Kazam, the young man feigned his disinterest but once learning it was from his mother eagerly read her request. Penela had wanted Kazam to come home.

The Order of the Black Rose had seen better days, primarily because the order had not been in the best condition. The order recently had fought a secret civil war with one of it’s own champions, an insane zealot named Jealand who took some knights on a murder spree in Jentre in order to ‘serve’ their god. Kazam had followed Zarl and another Black Rose knight named Liez Neskerbaud against Jealand. The order went bankrupt trying to repair it’s broken image, along with the general boredom of their self exile in Tannis, serving a number of very rich and fragile nobles who seemed more interested in the knights simply being strong willed trophies to haul from party to party. The small cave which the group had set up a secret temple in was depressing as usual when Zarl announced that Kazam would be leading the order out of Tannis and into Zengher. Kazam had reluctantly agreed to help out his order by helping them get out of their own Lull and back to helping peasants and fighting bandits in the troubled borders of his own home.

Leaving only some volunteers behind to finish their contracts in Tannis, the majority of the knights left, but Kazam and Zarl went on ahead towards the home of the Gotembaugs. When Kazam arrived back home, his mother rushed out to meet him and Zarl, and once in the privacy of their home, Penela and her children embraced their lost son. Penela made her wishes very clear to her son, wishing him to stay and deal with the bandit group terrorizing Zengher so she could support Nausk politically with his campaign. Kazam understood, but still wished to remain a Black Rose knight, which normally forbade these kind of things. Zarl, partially desperate, allowed Kazam the exception in return for allowing his order to come to Zengher in force. After some small other agreements, Penela left much of the affairs of the state to Kazam and his knights who occupied a small plot outside the city of Gottisberg to camp in.

Kazam mostly started his early reign by visiting southern noble. . .at the behest of a small army of levies and knights he began to gather as he travelled. Zarl and the Black Rose knights followed behind, smashing up the Vandal’s camps and businesses. Kazam made his demands extremely clear and intimidated his father’s nobles with his sizable force, essentially out intimidating the vandals. Kazam and Zarl then began to personally invade the bandit territory, chasing them into old bandit strongholds along the border with Olma and the Okke. Territories long thought impossible to keep control over began to openly fly Muoarman colors once again as the Knights of the Black Rose took a very proactive role in killing the bandits personally.

Zarl was happy to see his knights were no longer depressed, and with Kazam’s hold on the treasury, the Knights freed up some territory for themselves with new contracts in Zengher. Zarl began to formulate the construction of a new temple to the Muoarman God of War, Marii. Zarl occupied a small basement in the temple at Gottisberg to fulfill his cult’s religious occupation, but with some help from the Redshirt Company, they were able to secure an old and abandoned temple for themselves in southern Zengher which acted as a bandit stronghold for Okke and Olmans over the years. The Order of the Black Rose discovered cave systems below the temple and soon occupied their new fort, and began layering out the temple as a new barracks for their order. Kazam visited the temple once he had been able to free himself from duties, with Zarl and Kazam drinking heartily for their victories over the past few months.
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Duke Garlor Olo Veunbera had arrived with his army in Edgk, the forest-swamp hellscape that awaited him and his army was almost depressing considering the poor state of Garlor’s own realm. The Gaszbam troops numbered only 20,000 currently, but as Consul, Garlor had reinforcements coming from across the country to fill his ranks. Garlor and his army marched on the rotting city of Nosuk Mar, a small Muoarman city which was built over the ruins of a Okan one. The city had one normal district, it’s richer upper district for the nobles and military, but it’s bottom districts relied on the Okan’s close knit streets, wooden walls, and vast complex of moats which have overflowed or were damaged due to neglect. Garlor and his captains rode through these streets and looked over the mud encrusted poor and the horde of beggars who greeted them. Garlor knew full well Edgk had problems from his last stay, but staying any further in the country depressed him deeply to never appreciate the low caste depravity which surrounded him.

Garlor met with the fat and miserable Gradkarm Olo Desbaug, a common thorn in the side of Muoarman high society. Gradkarm was more bandit tyrant then a duke, and was never well respected by his southern peers. Garlor despised the older duke deeply, from his mannerisms to his arrogance, the man believed himself higher then what he was truly. Gradkarm often used his soldiers to harass his own people, levied massive taxes on them, and had a very gluttonous lifestyle. Gradkarm was equally revulsed by Garlor, whom he believed was ‘invading’ his land and should not have the right to station troops in his land, even under the Grand Duchess’s orders, but also despised Garlor’s pride and aggressive nature. After some intense debates, the two agreed to allow the troops to take over some of the Barracks in the land, and for Garlor to get a special apartment in the city for himself, his captains, and his son to use as a command center. Normally, Garlor would have had to build barracks of his own to station his troops, but the offer of wealth and a small bribe of elven wine made Gradkarm accept the offer wholesale, along with a few well placed threats.

Once set up, Garlor had gotten to work building up his coming campaign. The bulky Consul believed that with sheer numbers, his victory was all but assured, it just mattered how much time it would take. Garlor’s captains, basing much of their assumptions on the Okan slave revolt they put down years ago, believed an Okan army could be crushed with little more than 3,000 Uesbergan, the rest of the army thus should focus on a swift action campaign of taking out villages and securing holdings, making a break for their capital with the aid of the fleet. Garlor and some Edgk captains discussed the plans a bit further, noting that there were no real roads into Ok’va that weren’t just old paths that only the Okan knew of. Garlor had plans to use his own money to begin building roads in Edgk to secure his supply route and muster his army over into Ok’va quicker, but was surprised to learn that out of the pocket of the Penosbaugs, they would pay for most of the upkeep of the Consul’s plans and the upkeep of the army. Garlor, not one to question such things, set up a series of plans to build roads in Edgk for his army, much to the criticism of Edgk’s Marshal of Taxation.

Garlor began to bring in wagons filled with Okan slaves from Gaszbam’s work camps to begin constructing the roads, and personally directed them as he waited for his ships. Edgk’s Marshal of Taxation however often pestered him to stop, mostly trying to secure some strange and absurd tax scheme which involved overpaying laborers on infrastructure projects which would never be completed and slowly trickled back into personal accounts of Edgk’s councillors. Garlor, having no time for this began constructing smaller roads to be soon paved into larger ones, along with new bridges for his armies. When Garlor began receiving news that Edgk Uesbergan were being commanded to dig up his roads and intimidate his overseers, Garlor angrily began enforcing his projects with large armed guard. When a work crew was attacked by some mercenaries and some slaves were killed in the fighting, Garlor personally stormed tracked the mercenaries down, beheaded them, and sent them to the Marshal of Taxation as a warning. No more issues plagued the work crews since.

Garlor eventually was called to a port where he received word his ships had arrived in Edgk. The Gaszbam duke had hoped to see his ships well fitted and decent looking, but what he found shocked him and his captains. Admiral Nebern Cusvera was sitting on a fish box, combing his hair, before a small fleet of decrepit ships, most parked in small fishing docks. Garlor examined the capital ship of the fleet, the hull nearly rotting and it’s crew extremely inexperienced and sick. The ship’s only competent members were the rows of chained galley slaves, a mixture of Okan, criminals, and foreign bought slaves who seemed so horrifically abused that Garlor had felt dizzy even staring at them for too long. Garlor and Nebern got into a fierce argument on the condition of the ships, both men yelling and cursing one another. Garlor ordered that resources from his army would be used to patch the ships, and demanded naval exercises until the crews were in top shape. Not trusting the easily offended Nebern, Garlor dismantled the ship’s slave crews, offering freedom and citizenship to both foreign humans and criminals in return for simply leaving the ships and having the Okan crews freed from their positions on the ships and used as new work crews to help patch up the ships and clean out their hulls. Garlor promised fresh slaves to man these ships once victory in Ok’va was secured, much to Nebern’s show of spite towards the Consul.

The vileness and corruption of Edgk was replaced by iron fisted tyranny with many troops settling into the barracks across the country. The Edgk Uesbergan despised sharing their beds and supplies with Gaszbam’s highland people. Gaszbam had at least villages for the soldiers to pass their days with by visiting family or dealing with the occasional slave crew, but in Edgk, the untamed wilderness drew a mystical boredom only satiated by song, with pubs and taverns few and far between. The Gaszbam soldiers soon began to follow the corrupt Edgk Uesbergan on their rounds, following them into villages to steal, plunder, and defile at their leisure. While at first disgusted by the Edgk acceptance of this corruption, the Gaszbam levies began to join in. Tormenting the people of Edgk, the soldiers stay became nightmarish as the soldiers did not particularly care for the almost tribal nature of Edgk’s human settlements. What had added more to this cruelty was that the Gaszbam soldiers were not very subtle, and the sight of soldiers often meant a burnt down hut or a missing villager.
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Nausk looked out over the expanse of streams, swamps, and riverbeds in the lowland of Edgk, his banners hoisted high with the beating drums ringing in the distance. Joining the army were new regiments from Jentre and Tannis who’s own banners held high, and their own commanders watched out over the growing force as it entered into Edgk. Commanded by an elite frontal force, the main army was leading the main army to a large clearing in southern Edgk where the main force of the 45,000 troops would be encamping, joined by another 7,000 more. As the main army marched onward, Nausk was approached by his friend Zerban Lulsbera which informed him of a Gaszbam retinue approaching them. Nausk could see figures on the dirt roads far off from the main army, passing by the villages as they moved about.

“Is it Garlor?” Nausk asked.

“No, my lord. Thankfully no. Its his son, Tanberg.” Zerban had said with partial disgust. Nausk rode off to meet the Gaszbam prince and his retinue personally, leaving his army to begin building their main base in his chosen command center.

Once the two had met up along the main road, Tanberg Veunbera could see the grand army marching, and only barely noticed that Zerban had rode next to Nausk.

“My lord Tanberg Veunbera, where is your father? I asked for him weeks ago.” Nausk began.

“I am sorry my lord, but fath---, I mean, Duke Garlor was busy with our great fleet. I was sent to help you and your army move into Edgk. I see you already found a spot regardless.”

“With no help from your father as usual.” Nausk rolled his eyes “But do tell me, where did your father want me to bring my troops? If he insults me, I fear I may curse his name.”

“Thankfully if Duk---” Nausk stopped him and rode a bit closer “My good captain, you may call him father, we are in the field, not a formal hall or a city. Be quick about what you must say.”

Tanberg sighed “My father doesn’t mean the things he means, but your army is clearly bigger. There is a larger patch of land near the village of Bersk, with several natural moats and a couple pre-built towers. My father would have wanted you to sit in Muosmar, but I think you’d want a better answer.”

“As an insult?”

“Nay, because there are poor roads here my lord. I know my father means ill, my Lord Gotembaug, but do understand him.”

Zerban came forward, but as he did, Tanberg’s guards put their hands on their blades which made Zerban draw back a little. “I don’t mean you harm my lord, but so I am clear. Nausk, Bersk is a small village, we would be too far from our supply line and they would be have difficulties bringing supplies in this land. Perhaps our original land would do?”

“You are perhaps right.” Tanberg shrugged “I could perhaps direct my father’s work crews to begin building roads into Bersk instead? My father doesn’t wish our men sick and crippled before we even begin our advance.”

“I would like to speak with your father before hand, young Veunbera. I'm not even sure where he intends to strike.”

“I will relay that to my father, my lord, although he will not be happy you brought my grandfather’s and uncle’s murderer with you.” Tanberg looked at Zerban who replied “What my father did, he---”

“I will hear no more of it, the past is done. We are hear for conquest and for glory.”

“Will you at least listen to my friend? He has much to say on that matter, Tanberg.” Nausk said, trying to calm down the younger princeling.

“There is nothing more to discuss, we will see each other in Cousberg, my lord Gotembaug.” Tanberg left with his retinue shortly thereafter.

The army marched and as Tanberg had said, Nausk passed a cart of Okan and Human engineers who were passing to begin building a road to Bersk. The main army arrived in the small village who’s elders met Nausk and began redirecting the large open fields and marshes around the village to be cleared, including redirecting some of the houses into becoming officer quarters. Nausk and his captains met inside the elder’s hut and began building their barracks, although this soon became difficult. What began as a nuisance of Gaszbam patrols picking fights with Zengher scouts, soon spiraled into brawls between the xenophobic and corrupt Edgk troops and the ‘overly pompous and southern wine lips’. Edgk Uesbergan were especially spiteful, being little more than well armored bandits who were more loyal to their new Gaszbam bunkmates then the separate camps of Nausk’s army. Nausk had his captains begin punishing these rowdy patrols, especially as his own began to brawl with them and caused injuries throughout the coming months. Nausk became deeply disturbed as angered Edgk patrols also began to torment his supply line, setting up illegal tolls and nonsensical rules as vengeful punished soldiers would only return to set up blockades. Nausk sent Zerban to personally deal with these looters, but issues still arose.

Once set up, Yekseen left the camp with her apprentice as promised, saying a short goodbye in doing so. What Nausk did not suspect was her return only a week later, but clearly distressed. Found outside the camp, demanding to talk, she was stopped by a wayward guard who was injured in the attempt to stop her from trying to force her way into the camp. Nausk was brought the elven woman and her Okan apprentice, who jumbled her words in trying to ask for aid. Nausk at first was confused, but once she calmed down, she related her tale. She tried to find some of her friends, only to find out that a large group of ‘hunters’ were rounding up her friends specifically, and that they planned to take them to Nousk Mar, where she was certain they would be executed. She begged for help from Nausk and his army. Nausk offered a small retinue, but she demanded Nausk as an authority, since the ‘Hunters’ were apparently working on behalf of ‘a powerful guild’. When pressed for more information, all Nausk found was more desperate need for aid. A bit reluctant, especially since what happened in Himsberg, Nausk agreed to investigate.

Nausk asks more on Yekseen’s friends and why they were imprisoned. Yekseen was vague, telling him that the Duke of Edgk was a rival of her group of friends, with them providing hope and aid to the people of Edgk, while the duke extorted the land. Nausk wasn’t very convinced, and again pressed, in which Yekseen only revealed “The ruler of this land doesn’t like that we had. . .extra legal alliances with more then just the human settlements, but the many Okan clans and holts as well, many enslaved and others free. He doesn’t know much about us, but his confidants do, and they despise us deeply.” Yekseen said very little else, and Nausk accepted it, but was yet still skeptical. Yekseen attempted to show him to a site where her friends were last seen, but found only a Edgk captain and some of his soldiers there ready to collect Yekseen and her apprentice. The captain, a rude and blunt man, told Nausk that Yekseen and her apprentice were criminals who were stirring trouble in Edgk with their ‘cult of evil’, which Nausk only came to believe as just a typical insult. Nausk made clear he would protect the elf and her comrades, and demanded to know where her friends were shipped too. The captain mentioned that he was there only to collect Yekseen, but not wishing to be in trouble, said that the guards handed over the group to some ‘southern types’ and sent them on their way.

Nausk and Yekseen once again enter on the trail, and find a small clearing. Nausk stops Yekseen, unsure if he wants to continue helping her, until Yekseen reveals her friends are fellow and ‘unclaimed’ mages. Yekseen promised they would aid him if they freed them, and Nausk, while skeptical once again, once again agrees to aid Yekseen. The retinue approached the camp, Nausk asks Yekseen to keep herself quiet while he talked with these would be wardens. Nausk planned to use his authority, and his sizable retinue to diplomatically deal with these kidnappers, and as he approached, Nausk gave a loud sigh as he spotted the Guild of the Studded Collar’s insignia on a worn flag as they approached.

The camp was filled with cages, but Nausk once again saw that Yekseen had lied, as the camp was not filled with elven mages, but Okan, human, and elven figures who had their mouths bound. Nausk ignored this, and continued on into the camp where he was stopped and saluted by the guards of the camp who recognized the Duke’s banner and retinue immediately. Nausk saluted the guards and was met by another familiar group, bearing the blue and black banner of the Guild of Illustrious Magi, led by the brazen haired woman Caizera Venkbaug.

“My lord.” Caizera spoke. “You must forgive me, but I ask, have you come to give us that criminal?”

“I have done nothing wrong, and nor has anyone in this camp.” Yekseen seethed. Nausk motioned her to be silent and spoke. “I’ve actually come to do the opposite. I’ve come to release these prisoners into my care.”

Caizera looked at the duke oddly and spoke up once again “No.”

“No? I am Consul of Muoarma and Duke of Zengher.” Reaffirmed Nausk. “By what right do you deny me.”

“Consul or not, the Guild of Illustrious Magi and the Studded Collar do not, and will not, release these criminals into your care.”

“Again, we are not criminals!” Yekseen shouted, tightening her fists.

“Say that as much as you wish, girl, but know that the guilds of Muoarma will benefit greatly from removing these cretans from the land. These are rogue mages my lord, captured with high cost, and will be dealt with in the halls of Magi and other authorities. We are supported by the Penosbaugs and you will both respect that.”

“The Penosbaugs aren’t here, woman. You speak ill of the Consul.” Zerban came forward. Nausk spoke up again “The Pensobaugs support me as well. Do not deny me again, release these peoples at once.”

Caizera looked at the small retinue, and looked back at her guards and gave a silent chuckle. She walked over to a cage and before anyone could say anything, she spoke a magic word, and the cage bursted into flame, much to the horror of the party. Yekseen prepared herself as the two parties drew weapons, with the screams of an elf inside cried out and was swiftly silenced. Caizera walked back over to the group, seeing they were outnumbered, she looked and grunted at Nausk. “Firstly, my good Consul, I do not answer to you, and you will fail to stop us with this poultry force.”

Nausk looked shocked and stayed silent. The woman spoke up further “Take your guard and return your camp, and we will not speak of this again.”

“You dare!” Zerban shouted at the woman, but her gaze towards him caused Zerban to back off a little, not sure if the unsightly magi would also just murder them on the spot.

“Return to the camp.” Nausk demanded. Yekseen stared at Nausk in disbelief, but the duke clearly did not want to engage the group, seeing as the group would not respect them or their authority. After the intense standoff, the group returned to their camp.

Nausk did not like his authority shaken, and felt anger towards the guilds who disrespected him, but knew they spoke the truth. Both the slaver’s guild and mage guild of Aedeth Mar were firm allies of the Penosbaugs, and killing them would only send a very bad message back to the Grand Duchess. Nausk ordered a meeting, now committed to dealing with the two guilds before they left for the south. Yekseen joined the meeting late, and had planned to set off on her own till Zerban convinced her to join the meeting. Nausk had a plan, that since Caizera had used magic to intimidate them, they would use magic to help the group escape, but subtly. Nausk would write to his ally in Souk Mar, the Duke of Jentre, for a favor to send him a small contingent of sorcerers to help him secure the free support of Yekseen’s magi friends. Nausk sold his captains on securing Magi of any group to aid them in the conquest of Ok’va, and would need them to battle with Ok’va’s druids. Yekseen winced at first at the mention, but supported the notion, but she would bring her own allies as well. Nausk asked what kind of allies, in which the elf sorceress only mentioned “He’s a private creature, but he will help.”

Nausk wrote to his ally, Galan Sanderbaug, about the situation and hoped he could ask the Magi to aid him, mentioning the elf Yekseen and her ‘friends’. Three days later, 5 sorcerers of the guild teleported outside the camp, which was sloppily done. 3 apprentices were injured, and one ended up stuck in the mud and had to be pulled out, while the leading officer of the group only introduced himself of Perkat. Perkat wasn’t very talkative and spoke vaguely, saying he was there ‘to secure guild allies’ and would speak no more of the situation. Nausk kept up a number of scouts to keep tabs on the prisoner camp and to sabotage their means of heading south, buying them time for Yekseen to gather her mysterious ally. Yekseen returned in the dead of night, only to say that she would attack the caravan on the move, and that her friend would be there.

Yekseen had in fact visited the tomb and grove of the ancient Okan warlord Za’kain, the ancient warrior king and once called the Wisp of Edgk for founding the Okan city the Muoarmans now inhabit. His bravery was also his curse, as his eternal reward was service to an ancient enemy of Edgk, an ancient Horned King named Bulfa’gua, the Okan God of the Moon. Za’kain was awoken from his slumber by Yekseen within his ancient grove, and once explaining the situation further to him, he agreed to aid the elf. The elf and Marsh Guardian sped off to the edge of Nausk’s camp, where Yekseen explained her plan to free her friends. While on the move, Yekseen and her friend would attack and distract the guards and the sorceress on the road, and in the chaos, the sorcerers would use their magic to free their friends and from their force their surrender. Nausk insisted he would lead the operation, using his own scouts to coordinate the assault, but Yekseen denied him, insisting that once her friends were freed, they could overwhelm the group without further violence. Nausk insisted on coming, annoyed he had the title of Consul but kept in the dark. Despite pleading from the sorcerers, they relented, allowing Nausk to join them on their mission.

The opportunity came as the prisoners were nearing the hills to go into Moasmar, slowed down by the number of prisoners and some sabotage by Nausk’s scouts. Yekseen and Za’kain positioned themselves behind some brush, while Nausk and the sorcerers were behind the group, getting ready to spring their trap. Za’kain made his first move, appearing within Nausk’s vision which surprised him. The Okan creature from a distance looked like a mud encrusted berzerker, wielding two war axes and covered head to toe in war paint. Yet, to the guild’s eyes and to Caizera, the creature had more morbid features. A hole which burst from the creature’s chest was a beating tumor of grasses and weeds, and various marshland insects covered and crawled across the creature, a feature Caizera was quick to regonize. The sorceress let out a firey blast swiftly at the creature, only for it to be reflected by Yekseen. The Marsh Guardian let loose an inhuman scream and lept at the group with poisoned axes. While clearly outnumbered, the Marsh Guardian took care of the slaver guards with it’s own twisted magic, as Yekseen appeared and challenged Caizera to a magical duel.

Nausk and the sorcerers rode up on the lightly guarded carts, with Nausk and his scouts disguised as common bandits and were able to disable the guards as the sorcerers worked their magic on the prisoners. Freeing the prisoners one by one and destroying the cages and shackles, the strange Magi fled back into the marsh. Caizera, seeing this all unfold tried to kill some of the fleeing magi, but were stopped by the sorcerers who dispelled such attempts. Once enough of their kind was freed, the tide turned and the mass of Magi were able to overpower the guards. Caizera used an illusion and fled, but none chased her as the guards began to scatter. As Yekseen came to the prisoners, the strange group of elves, okan, and humans crowded around Nausk and the sorcerers.

Nausk again took note of Yekseen’s strange affinity for friends, especially as the Marsh Guardian seemed to meld amongst a group of strange Okan magi, and Yekseen introduced an older and hunchbacked Okan woman covered in a tattered brown rag, holding and shaking on a tiny stumpy walking cane. The crone lifted her hood, revealing pale eyes and scarred tissue, and if it wasn’t for the fact she could speak very well, Nausk would have thought she looked almost undeadish. “Ya must be the man in black armor, wear’in the guilt of a vagabond! I tell ya, I’d thought ya bigger.” The crone spoke.

“Nausk, meet Bun, or Bun an’ Muck as her clan calls her.” Yekseen introduced, and Bun gave a short bow.

“I thought your friends were elves, although from what ive been seeing, I think that too was a lie.” Nausk looked at Yekseen, demanding her explanation.

“I am a member of the Soothsayers, you wouldn’t know us well.”

“Yes, and valued allies of the Guild of Sorcerers.” Reminded one sorcerer. “You saved us a great deal of trouble Consul Nausk.”

Nausk folded his arms “We are going back to camp, and you are going to explain everything.”

And everything was explained, although from what Nausk heard he disliked most of it. The Soothsayers were a group of rogue Magi who primarily were made up of elven sages, okan druids, and human wizards who swore loyalty to a cult within the marshland to several very clearly dark gods. Za’kain, who organized the cult’s holdings within the deeper marshland, had been it’s founder. Okan druids trapped in Edgk formed the cult to protect their way of life, and expanded over time to protect the monsters, Edgk, and the gods from harm. The Soothsayers recruited Yekseen and where her true loyalties lie. Nausk noticed that there were 16 members in the group, which was pretty normal for small mage circles, but wondered why so many were in Edgk specifically. Most of them felt a loyalty to Edgk in some odd way, showing it by helping it’s people despite coming from all walks of life. Okan druids did things for their clans, the elves wished to delve more into the dark knowledge not passed down to them by their own communities, and the witches and warlocks of the Edgk came from a distant family who just chose not to leave and spread across Edgk.

Nausk asked how the entire group of Magi were captured, which a younger elven sage blushed and answered, where the group had decided despite “the stars not being right, and the signs clearly against us” met in a less stuffy temple and in a town house where the town elders ratted out on them. Caizera ambushed the site with a powerful sleep spell with the aid of some of Edgk’s magi, and gagged them shortly there after. Why she decided not to permanently mutilate them, none of the soothsayers knew. Nausk wondered why the Guild of Sorcerers took interest in the soothsayers, in which the sorcerers explained that the soothsayers were on friendly terms with the guild despite clear differences, and the soothsayers shared knowledge with the guild’s leaders in return for secrecy and continued existence. Nausk then asked the most important question of them all; if the soothsayers would aid him in the conquest of Ok’va.

“Nay.” Answered Bun. Nausk frowned. “Why? I aided you didn’t I?”

“Ya did, and we thank ya for that, but ya ask us to aid ya in putting my people in chains?” Bun remarked. Nausk shook his head “I do not know what the Grand Duchess plans for the region, but just be---”

“Do not fool yerself, young lad, ya know full well what you are there to do.”

He looked to Yekseen for aid in convincing the older Okan, but she turned away. While it became clear he wouldn’t be able to convince them, Nausk mentally wondered if he could force them to join, but decided against it. Bun smiled and tapped her cane on Nausk’s desk. “Ya helped us, but we cannot do as ya ask, but we will help ya as we can, with some conditions an’ not. I got some folk in the marsh who can help ya, an’ the real people of Edgk will aid ya as they can. Ya will need them shortly.”

Nausk raised an eyebrow as the soothsayers left, and he and Yekseen were alone. Yekseen tried to speak more positively on the situation, but Nausk only gave a sigh. Nausk felt like a fool for putting this much trust in the elf, and mentioned he hoped this had all been worth the effort. Yekseen agreed, and offered to stay in Nausk’s service to make up for his lack of mages, and Nausk nodded and allowed it, under the condition there would be no more ‘favors, missions, and demands’. Yekseen made no promise, and both sat down and drank some beer in the tent. As the two talked a bit more, they were joined by Forg who revealed asked her own questions, wondering why the guild was here, and what they wanted to do with the soothsayers. Nausk wondered that it was odd that the slaver’s guild and Illustrious Magi would go to this length for sorcerers, and try to thwart a Consul so brazenly. Nausk rushed out the tent and caught Bun as she left, asking why the guild was after them. The elderly Okan only smiled, revealing her rotten and browning fangs.

“In time, ya will know, no design ya imagine will pass, for you are but the pawn in the greater game.”

“If I may ask, what the hell does that even mean?”

“Ya will soon know, the masters of those fools want us, for what only the gods know. Here, a souvenir, and welcome child, to Edgk.” The older Okan woman handed Nausk a folded cloth when unfurled was the banner of a household he did not recognize. When he looked up to ask what it was, the soothsayers had vanished.
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Nausk was eventually visited by Garlor, who had brought along a sizable retinue and refused to enter the camp out of spite. Nausk had to come out, and both nearly looked ready to battle over the marsh, but Garlor eventually came forward and began insulting the duke almost immediately which Nausk simply shook off. Garlor had to be convinced by his son Tanberg to try to make a temporary truce so both could discuss the conquest of Ok’va, and that neither side would get anyway not working out their strategy. Garlor listened only to his son on this matter, and agreed. Nausk, despite superior troop size, was not certain of victory as Garlor was, and it became clear as the two discussed strategy. Nausk had spent his spring studying Ok’va, its customs, and history, and why the country was a miserable country to war with. Nausk presented his servant Peloabam, who gave a short overview which Garlor quickly dismissed as “tribalism and nothing more.”

Nausk wanted to make sure their armies could secure villages by building a series of forts, slowly making their way into the country and trying to avoid the main Okan army. Garlor laughed at the suggestion, believing a decisive battle with the Ok’va army would end the war swiftly, regardless of the outcome. Nausk felt insulted, warning Garlor that the Okan army had a history of avoiding fighting, and preferred to ambush and pick off weak targets, trapping armies in their marshland and using dark magic to weaken their enemies. Garlor suggested that they should just make their main assault against the capital and that Nausk should be a reserve force. Nausk and Garlor disagreed on nearly everything, and it became less about planning and more of a means to achieve something over the other. Garlor eventually left the tent in disgust, saying that “If you want to campaign on your own terms, then fine! I will campaign to win before you even march into that land!” Nausk refused to go after his hated rival, and simply pounded the table in frustration.

Neither force was worried that the Okan army would even prepare, as the Okan were so isolated that some clans and nobles referred to the Muoarmans as Olmans or Elkadans. Nausk wanted to exploit this as much as possible, having his scouts begin rounding up Okan scouts, and hiring a slave catcher to keep an eye on Garlor’s building teams to make sure possible escaping slaves would not try to make their way to Ok’va. Seeing how he would not be able to deal with the main campaign Garlor was planning, Nausk made his own plans. Nausk wanted to do a slow crawling strategy, conquering small communities and setting up a series of forts and outposts across the land to push back possible Okan armies and to conquer the southern territories before moving into the inner marshland. Nausk wanted to make sure his conquest would be smooth, and began a specific planning with his servant and his elven scout. Nausk was convinced by his scouts to not send them into Ok’va just yet, as many feared that the Okan would likely be alerted if they were ever caught.
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The Holts met of Okke met in a secluded grove to discuss the issues of the day, called by the current acting leader and visionary, Rab Streambattle. The Okin warrior had been informed of the guarantee of the Olman king and began plotting the moment he heard word. The Okan ‘ambassador’ was rushed into the meeting of the clans, where the tribes wondered why the Olmans would ever protect them, or why the Olmans would even bother. Rab however had ideas, saying that it was clear to him that the Olmans wanted to vassalize them, not through violence, but through words. The Holt leaders mocked the idea, and suggested killing the Okan ambassador and sending his head back as a warning. Rab denied this, saying such an act would be useless, and that like all non-humans in Olma, they were nothing but the tools of the crown. The Okan ambassador gave a sigh of relief, but then Rab spoke, lamenting that while the clan wallowed in mud, Olmans lived in castles. Rab continued, mocking other clans, saying they were more fit to be slaves of the Muoarmans, that their children would stand upright as castle servants and their warriors would make good laborers in the fields, mines, and forestries, that the Varkovnians would love to see their people skinned, and Rab continued to speak of perceived future atrocities as the room silenced.

Rab then offered the Okin leaders a choice, to give into Olman demands, or perish. There was laughter in the halls at first, but as most leaders realized Rab was serious, they silenced themselves. The Okin leaders wondered why Rab would even suggest such a thing, in which Rab revealed his plans. The Okin would bring in the Olmans, would learn and benefit from their relationship, but not all demands. Instead, the Olmans would ‘pay’ for Rab’s designs, to build a city on the water equal to any city of Muoarma and Muha, but of Okin design, a meeting place of the clans which will be paid by the ‘mysterious ways of human coin’. Some leaders yelled and shouted at Rab, calling him mad, and soon punches were thrown. Rab and his allies brawled with the others until Rab came out on top. Rab offered to go to the gods to get an answer from them, but the leaders were fearful of such results, and simply agreed in a defeated tone.

Weeks later, Rab and the leaders met with the Olman king on their border in an open field, both bringing huge retinues. The Olman king, Gaezan Weizzbaug was surprised by the invitation and what Rab had to say. Rab wanted further protection, and wished to ‘better understand’ the relationship between Olma and Okke. Gaezan, through his Okan ambassador, was able to relay the King’s general desires. Rab agreed to allow the Olmans to consider Okke as a vassal to Olma, and that each individual clan at their own discretion would pay homage to the Olman monarchy in return for protection, but taxes and levies would be solely by loyalty, not be requirement. Olma would be allowed to build three trade ports in Okke territory, but were not allowed to build stone roads, and would only be allowed to construct small square posts connected by Okke paths only, Okke clansmen would act as laborers and carriers of goods to the Olman border, a condition Gaezan agreed to reluctantly. Furthermore, Okke clans would be allowed to settle in the north, and would be given a sizable trade tax for each clan for goods sold.

Rab felt confident as the Olman King and he shook hands, and as they left, Rab washed his hands symbolically in the river and revealed to his sons and captains he knew the Olmans intended to betray them, but he would simply betray them first in time. Olmans began to enter the land and under the king’s command, built three small trade ports to fit a sizable retinue of craftsman, but the garrisoning of these posts became a problem. The Olman King allowed Okke mercenaries to man the posts, along with Olman knights, who formed an odd bond over their employment. More roguish knights began to bring more Okke warriors and sellswords to Olma, using them as mercenaries and forming new companies. The most prestigious of these companies were a merchant guard known as The Rowdy Bows, primarily being Okke scouts and marksmen and Olman heavy cavalry who worked together for the benefit of their employers to disturbing amounts of success.
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@AdorableSaucer

When the ambassador Gu’andar Vessuvian entered into the court of the palace at Amarra, he was a rather strange sight. Tales of Muhan decadence was not an overaggeration, the ambassador looking like a glittery star with his silver robes and toga, white dyed hair, and assortment of almost feminine apparel. He greeted the princess with a charming affection, although he spoke melodramatically. While charming in speech, his idealism was odd, being a mixture of imagined glory, with some things which bordered on exaggeration and downright lies. Gu’andar showed the princess and others his formal paperwork as a member of the Muha bureaucracy and more importantly, related to the speech of his countrymen very well, recognizing references. He mentioned his love an old elven play of The King and His Court, an elvish play related to the grand life of Imperator Bulchava, a legend in Muhan folklore.

Yet it was clear that despite his good behavior so far, his guards were not amused one bit who traveled with him often. They perhaps were more interesting than Gu’ander was able to tell a better picture of Muha; One guard related his trip to the sacred mountain of their country and it’s vast complex of tombs and shrines which dotted it, another told his tale of his stay in Eldar Muha and it’s marvelous temple complex, along with other such things.
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Slagar Lord of Disappointment, Witch King of Saltmar

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Summary


=-=The Gathering Storm, Fall 998 2nd Age=-=


The first of the leaves turned orange as the sizable Muoarman army settled down into their camps in Edgk. Duke Nausk Gotembaug, Consul of Muoarma, had been pouring over descriptions of the inner country of Ok’va for the upcoming invasion. Despite his personal spite for his co-Consul, Nausk relied heavily on his roads to keep the sizable army comfortable. Nausk’s previous planning had kept his army safe, and his presence has certainly brought a great deal of law and order back into the land, even though this presence is what caused Nausk no end of bitter resentment. The longer Nausk spent swatting at mayflies and mosquitoes, the more he began to miss the hillsides and the inner country, as the land of Edgk and it’s miserable position often forced Nausk to personally deal with the issues.

Muoarman patrols were almost a foreign concept to Edgk’s commoners and peasants, who often drove off bandits rather than siding with them. The Zengher and Tannis Uesbergan were better armored and were eager to prove themselves as saviors to a people who often flocked to them for safety, heaping rewards on them for doing simple tasks such as aiding them. What Nausk found often very puzzling was a sizable number of Okan villages and clan which were found all over the place, who’s village elders acted and sounded more like Muoarmans then Okan. Most of these Okan still wore rope collars, but were unofficially owned by no one and many still worshiped the old Okan faith, although one which worshiped a local Horned King who had not been seen in hundreds of years. Yekseen implied to Nausk that the Horned King of Edgk was a large forest spirit who was hibernating indefinitely after a fatal battle with another ‘god’. Nausk decided against disrupting this odd way of life, assuming these Okan were not loyal to Ok’va, but did decide to recruit some of them into his army to aid his scouts and as laborers.

While Nausk was preparing for his campaign, he also became petty about his run in with Caizera Venkbaug and the Guilds of the Illustrious Magi and Studded Collar. Nausk ordered his soldiers to find and smash up Studded Collar camps, running out their slavers, and looting their supplies. For the Illustrious Magi however, Nausk wrote back to the capital of Aedeth Mar, declaring the guild would no longer be welcome in any land he controlled and condemned the actions of Caizera publically, and that he would dull out harsh punishments for their agents and Magi. Neither guild officially responded, but an envoy from the capital did appear to privately ask Nausk to re-allow the Studded Collar Guild back into Edgk, which Nausk refused.

When the Soothsayers did not agree to join Nausk’s army, but instead help them ‘in other ways’, Nausk expected only minimal supplies, but what surprised and pleased him was that the odd group provided a great deal of personal aid to his army and patrols, although passively. Patrols and captains found the soothsayers all over the place, often providing healing the villagers normally, but many times would help in the healing of Nausk’s troops. One Okan druid gave an anti-itching cream to one patrol, a local witch provided magical services in driving off bear otters to another, and two elven sages had set up a lucrative potion shop in Nausk’s camp. The help the soothsayers gave was often not without cost, but it was something Nausk was willing to pay for their healing services and other strange magics. Through the elven sage Yekseen and some prodding of the extremely reluctant Okan druids by her Okan apprentice Forgoia, the soothsayers became more like assets to the army during their stay in Edgk. In return, individual members were given some monetary benefit and protection from Edgk’s guards who considered the group criminals. It was often through the soothsayers that Nausk was able to communicate more efficiently with Edgk’s villages and people, who respected and feared the soothsayers.

Yet, speaking to the villagers was only a minor thing to Nausk, which was why he decided to gather Edgk’s nobles to him and gather their support; levies, protection for his supply wagons, Uesbergan, and access to their keeps. Envoys were sent far and wide, but when they returned, they had very troubling news to report on. Many of the keeps and castles that these rural nobles lived in were abandoned, their nobles had almost little to no power, and many looked and lived like peasants. The few envoys sent looked like minor nobles, not regional lords. Nausk personally escorted one envoy to a drowned keep run solely by a sizable Okan clan made up of former castle servants and laborers, taking care of a child-minded elderly old noblewoman to the best care they could, while also using her noble title to secure their gilded freedom. Nausk disliked the anomaly of this, seeing it as a sign of a larger issue, but yet felt sympathy for the plight of the former servants and their attempted care for a mad old woman. Nausk had the old noble woman placed into the care of a distant rural house and the servants relocated to his camp under his own care, but abandoned the castle to the Ok’van marshes. These kind of stories grew as Nausk continued to explore Edgk, and depressed the duke greatly.

What Nausk soon discovered in Edgk as he went from castle to castle the disparity and crippled nature of Edgk’s nobles. Many of the castles were abandoned, most fiefdoms were often little more than scattered hamlets and villages which were connected by small paths. Nausk noticed that the only places connected were Uesbergan barracks, and when he confronted commanders of these barracks, most were unkempt, drunk, and acted more like common thugs then experienced Uesbergan soldiers. The only thing Nausk could praise about them was how they knew the lay of the land, but this was only due to the fact as Nausk soon discovered that most were reformed bandits who were conscripted into the Uesbergan. Nausk also noticed that many of the soldiers had poor armor and weapons, but ate like kings and drank very often in their barracks, especially when Nausk nearly tripped on a pile of bottles as he walked into one Barracks. Nausk suspected that the Uesbergan of Edgk were extorting the villagers, but didn’t want to commit too many soldiers to find proof, so he redirected his scout to begin trailing some of the soldiers on their rounds.

What the scouts reported to Nausk shocked him, as one group of Edgk and Gaszbam soldiers entered into a village and an incident had happened. An Edgk soldier got into a scuffle, trying to forcefully bring a young woman back to the barracks, and was attacked by the girl’s mother. The soldiers slew the mother, and then hung the village elders for personal entertainment. The gaszbam soldiers, seeing the opportunity, ransacked the homes and killed two more villagers who hid in their homes. Zengher returned to that garrison shortly there after and dragged the Edgk Uesbergan out of their barracks and beheaded them on Nausk’s orders, and imprisoned the Gaszbam soldiers who were turned over to their captain. Nausk angrily wrote letters to Edgk’s nobility in the main city, but not a word returned to him. Nausk got on his horse and rode with Yekseen, Zerban Lulsbera, and Zar’usaga to Nousk Mar.

Nausk entered into Nousk Mar and was appalled by what he saw in that city, the poverty of the lower city was almost nightmarish. Nousk Mar’s artisans and craftsmen lived like slaves, or to Nausk, worse then slaves with run down structures who were watched and guarded by the city’s overly corrupt militia. Yet, when Nausk entered the upper city, it hadn’t been much better. Much of the city’s main apartments were for noble families who owned large estates around the city like in most Muoarman cities, and for the large extended family of Desbaugs. However, unlike other cities, the Desbaugs acted like they were fanatically rich, the Uesbergan guards wore gold tipped helms, and several hundred slaves swept crude off the streets or did day to day tasks. Elven servants greeted Zar and Yekseen as if they knew each other well. Nausk however noticed more and more members and agents of the Illustrious Magi, and the guild of the Studded Collar intermingling in the streets, and the fancy dress and garb of the Edgk elite talking about their summer homes far off in his own home of Zengher and Tannis.

When Nausk and his guard entered the court of Duke Gradkarm Olo Desbaug, the fat duke was gorging on a fresh feast, surrounded by Gaszbam captains and representatives of the Illustrious Magi. Gradkarm’s chamberlain invited Nausk to the court, but Gradkarm barely even noticed, let alone cared, his only words were demanding Nausk’s elven companions to leave immediately from his presence. Nausk refused this order entirely, looking down on the fat duke as both got into a heated argument. Nausk refused to relent, in which Gradkarm reluctantly agreed only after Nausk threatened him further. Nausk complained about the depravity in the country, and especially made it clear his spite towards what happened in the summer. Both Gradkarm and the Illustrious Magi representative took jabs at Nausk, and complained that Nausk had openly attacked Uesbergan and Illustrious Magi, and how he associated and employed criminals. Yekseen challenged this, demanding to know why they were criminals to start with, in which Gradkarm went on a tangent of how the soothsayers were crazed zealots and disrupted the ‘good and honest work’ of his Uesbergan. Nausk talked of his actions when it came to arresting and executing corrupt Uesbergan, but was shocked to learn that Gradkarm had little care for their actions. Gradkarm’s advisers and courtiers mocked the Consul, saying that Nausk knew little of Edgk and that their way of handling Edgk was bringing prosperity.

The guild representative sneered at the Consul, exclaiming his guild had the right to imprison ‘enemies of Muoarma’, but whe Nausk asked what their connection was to the Guild of the Studded Collar, the representative flinched. Nausk exclaimed the court had no proof, which was then Gradkarm threatened legal action, to get the city’s guild of law involved. Nausk then exclaimed he would counter-sue the local ruler for his corruption. Neither Nausk or Gradkarm budged, and seeing it was pointless to talk to him further, angry that his title of Consul was thrown out in court, Nausk simply stormed out. Cursing the city, the Desbaugs, and riding furiously past the streets, he made an angry speech in front of a crowd of onlookers who were curious why the duke had entered their lord’s keep. Nausk called the Desbaugs fools, corrupt, and mocked them, and reiterated his title of Consul. He made it clear his spite for Gradkarm, and for his allies, and rode off cursing for much of his journey back to camp.

On his journey back to his camp, Zar had been scouting up the road and returned to Nausk to say a skirmish had broken out. Several black clad soldiers were dead, fighting some Edgk soldiers. Nausk and his retinue moved forward to survey the situation, seeing a large black haired woman and her remaining guard fighting off several bandits. Nausk rode forward and clashed with the bandits who took flight back into the swamp, but not before a hidden archer had killed the woman’s remaining bodyguard. Nausk looked upon the woman and the crest of her shield, bearing the same symbolry of the strange flag the soothsayer leader had given Nausk. Nausk demanded to know the woman’s identity, which she gave it without question, calling herself Kara Neskerbaud. Nausk forced Kara to accompany him back to his camp, to grant him some form of explanation.

Kara accompanied the group back to their camp, and with Yekseen in attendance, they interrogated her. Kara was actually confused at first, as her father, Baron Tazberd Neskerbaud had sent her to do the same task, not the court mage Caizera. Yekseen believed that Tazberd, a huge investor into the slaver guild, was likely planning to sell the mages, but Kara corrected Yekseen quickly. Kara revealed that her father was a large investor in general, and had a stake of sorts in the coming campaign against Ok’va. Tazberd apparently wanted the soothsayers to complete a ritual to help him predict future outcomes, something which Yekseen scoffed at. Nausk made it clear to Kara that she would not be collecting the soothsayers, and much to his surprise after considerable disrespect to his title, she agreed. Kara asked however if she could be let go to collect on other bounties and to collect members of her guild, the guild of the Studded Collar, to resume her operations. Nausk agreed she would be let go, but she would be sent back to Tannis, as he had banned the guild’s activities due to their hostility from the summer issues, which a disappointed Kara only nodded to. Yekseen angrily wanted to kill her, believing her to be a threat, but was calmed by Nausk who explained her didn’t wish to do more harm then what was needed and that her group would be safe from Tazberd.
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A few days later, Nausk received word from his captains that supplies had come late. Nausk ordered his scouts to go find out why this was, and returned shortly there after with troubling news. While Gaszbam work crews had moved onto other infrastructure projects after they completed the road to Nausk’s camp, the soldiers found a number of bridges and roads dugged up, destroyed, or redirected. Nausk rode out with his retinue, finding the roads had truly been dugged up, the scout then pointed out a number of ditched supply wagons and camps, along with the shallow graves of wagon drivers. Infuriated, Nausk ordered his cavalry to ride ahead and protect other drivers. The cavalry that 70 Edgk soldiers were digging up the road and were harassing the wagons under the Edgk Duke’s orders, and discovered several more raided wagons. Having had enough of this foolishness, Nausk ordered his men to immediately attack the Edgk soldiers. Nausk’s elite retinue quickly overwhelmed the Edgk thugs, driving them back into the marsh with harsh casualties. Nausk returned to his camp with fresh wagons.

The harassment did not stop there however, as Gaszbam captains soon were coming to Nausk with further news of sabotage. Edgk soldiers were given strange and contradictory orders, and began to dig up the roads but to not attack work crews. Apparently, the undisciplined Edgk Uesbergan were harassing slowed down supply wagons, openly killing them and looting their contents. Nausk ordered some of the laborers to begin repairing the road and to build military outposts to keep those roads safe, but didn’t openly attack the Edgk soldiers yet. Nausk still wanted to prevent his major plans against Ok’va secret, and openly warring in Edgk against a hostile noble would certainly attract their attention. Garlor handled these issues with less subtly then Nausk did, and when his roads and wagons began to be destroyed, Garlor would personally ride out and smash the raiders. When he suspected Edgk’s nobles were behind this, he responded by executing Edgk captains. Seeing Nausk as an easier target, the Edgk soldiers focused more on harassing Nausk and his army.

Nausk’s only real defense to these issues was simple, that the Edgk soldiers were cowardly thugs and that they were horribly undisciplined. When the bandits appeared to dig up the road and do their gig as bandits, the appearance of Nausk’s troops sent them running. Nausk ordered many of the barracks near him to be shut down and their captains replaced with his own, forcefully conscripting and imprisoning the Edgk guards. The Edgk guard informed Nausk they were only following orders, which Nausk refused to accept as an excuse, citing the dead wagon drivers, their assistants, and their guards. It was when Nausk began to shut down these barracks and replace them with his own did he receive controversy, as the duke of Edgk began a suit against Nausk. The duke claimed the roads encouraged banditry, and that Nausk and Garlor needed to pay him to use official Edgk transports and supply lines, a feat which both Consuls thought laughable. When Nausk ordered Gradkarm to stop his foolishness, the duke only agreed if Nausk paid him a sizable bribe, which further insulted the troubled Consul. Nausk played along, paying the bribe, but it became clear shortly there after this was only a minor arrangement as little more than a week later, the Edgk soldiers were back to digging up roads again and Edgk continued to call Nausk to his keep to settle the legal dispute.

Nausk called a meeting of his captain, exclaiming this; “I’ve frankly had enough, it is clear no noble here respects the office of Consul, the duke here a fool. If he will act like a child, I shall treat him as such.”. Nausk ordered his men to ignore Edgk’s ranks and hierarchies, and sent his soldiers to the villages and towns, taking over the role of the towns as liege lord. Nausk began to break down the Uesbergan ranks, dismissing a large number of them and imprisoning others, and began his own recruitment drive of Edgk’s guards amongst the villages. The dismissed guards were not let go of their service yet, and were instead paid more heavily by Nausk to receive better armor, food, and gear in return for not only loyalty, but performing their original tasks. Nausk took it upon himself to fix the issue with the poverty of the rural nobility, doing the rather controversial act by promoting a number of bandit chiefs, village strongmen, and some of his own captains as new nobility for Edgk. Seeing how the decentralized land lacked a means to oppose Nausk’s reforms, Nausk continued to use his soldiers and funds to turn the extorted state into something far more functional. Nausk freed up craftsmen from being extorted by Edgk’s Uesbergan, encouraged growth and trade between the villages, founded central towns, and even formalized the titles of the new nobility. Of the most notable new nobles was a former Edgk captain and bandit chief known as Gacbard the Bleak, a heavily bearded and old bandit chief and expert vagabond who had control over several northern villages and ruled from a wooden fortress connected to an old elven ruin. Gacbard was skilled in combat and in marshland tactics, and Nausk took a liking to him due to his generally competent style of ruling and spite for the Desbaugs.

Gradkarm was furious, and called upon Garlor and his army to deal with Nausk, as Nausk’s actions usurped his rule. Garlor, while agreeing that Nausk had gone too far and would love to humiliate his rival, simply found Gradkarm less agreeable, especially after the issue with his soldiers tearing up his roads. Gradkarm called Garlor a traitor, which the highland duke then called Gradkarm an incompetent. Garlor left the furious and now deeply worried duke of Edgk in a state of dealing with Nausk, and continued to focus more on his own plans, primarily fixing his roads. Garlor’s son, Tanberg Veunbera, did however begin sending letters and warnings to Nausk, stating he was overstepping his bounds, even as Consul. Yet, Nausk’s words to Tanberg when he wrote back had been convincing, and that Nausk viewed Edgk’s duke not as a threat, but as a danger. Tamberg then convinced his father that if Nausk would build up his own nobility underneath Edgk’s corrupt duke, perhaps they should do the same, and Garlor shortly there after began to divide up Edgk amongst loyal followers. Edgk’s urban nobles, shocked by the speed and inability for them to keep control over their part of the country began to soon flock to both Garlor’s and Nausk’s banner, which caused deeper and deeper concerns.

Gradkarm saw the writing on the wall, but felt no need to pull back his passive aggressive pursuits as his domain spiraled out of control. Despite Gradkarm’s family begging him to make peace with both Nausk and Garlor, he continued to eat and hunt with abandon, although with noticeably fewer friends and allies. Having had enough, the duke sent his envoys far and wide, declaring the two Consuls having overstepped their boundaries and openly demanded that they left Edgk. Gradkarm had even played with the idea to get foreign help, but his advisers deeply disagreed with the prospect, as it would look bad for their image. The unpopular ruler recieved very little in terms of encouragement, as only the most conservative enemies of the two Consuls raised their voices, but most others including the Grand Duchess fell silent. Nausk had already expected Gradkarm to complain and sent an envoy back to the capital to explain his actions, and despite some vague words by the Grand Duchess to try to mediate the problems via letters, it was clear with her correspondence to both of her Consuls that she would generally support any action to support their campaign against Ok’va and to ignore the complaints of Gradkarm. With neither side willing to bulge, rumors were soon abound within the courts of Edgk on what to proceed with.

Taking advice from the Guild of Illustrious Magi representative in his court, who was more interested in knocking down what they believed an asset of their rivals, The Guild of Sorcerers, the duke of Edgk made new orders to give more reign to the Illustrious Magi to hunt, capture, and kill the soothsayers. Gradkarm had known the soothsayers were under the protection of Nausk and his armies, and wanted to do all in his power to make life miserable for the Consul, believing he would leave his territory if he applied enough pressure on him. While Gradkarm’s advisers meekly agreed, egging on the duke and his family to continue these actions, most were secretly transferring themselves over to Garlor or Nausk, begging to be let into their inner circles. The guild, more interested in burying their rival’s assets in the marsh, exaggerated the crimes of the soothsayers, claiming to Gradkarm that once gone, the powerbase of both Nausk and Garlor would also fall. The duke continued to remain ignorant of his own affairs, especially as his own spymaster fell into the personal payroll of Garlor’s army.

The only ones who seemed to willingly remain loyal to Edgk’s duke was his remaining and local Uesbergan, who were granted bounties on the soothsayers. The soothsayers had time to go back into hiding, and others fled to Nausk’s camp where their enclave was safe. Yet, one elven member did fall behind and was briefly captured by a patrol who tried to forcefully drag him back to Nousk Mar, but had used his magic to escape. The member had traveled a long distance through miserable mud and being hunted until he arrived at a patrol station of Nausk’s army, who had a standoff with superior Edgk Uesbergan. The Edgk soldiers, fearful of reinforcements, eventually retreated and the injured soothsayer was brought to Nausk. Nausk was furious, and he openly declared he would personally put down Edgk’s nobility and that he was done playing their games. Gathering a meeting to him, and seeing the situation escalating out of his own control, Nausk decided it was high time to deal with Edgk’s near hostile duke and reassert his authority if need be.

Nausk left camp with 20 men, and made his attention known that he would speak with Gradkarm Desbaug personally, but the nature of the event Nausk would note was very serious. Nausk demanded he would only see Gradkarm outside his city’s walls on horseback, and they would talk beneath the walls of the city. This was an old Elkadan war custom passed down by the nobles of Zengher, refusal to meet this way was an act of not only disrespect, but of war. Nausk’s letter made this clear, and he demanded of Gradkarm three general demands; to submit to the authority of the Consuls, to lay down his hostilities to the Consuls, and to accept the new nobility he and Garlor had made. Gradkarm never responded as he usually did, but thanks to Nausk’s spies, Nausk now at least knew why. Gradkarm’s most ‘loyal’ advisers often read his messages for him, and twisted their meanings, and often advised him not to respond. Instead, they often encouraged their critics to come to court where they were vulnerable and where Gradkarm had more control over the situation, but the duke was aware of what was being said.

As Nausk began to make his way down a road towards one of the last villages before reaching the main outside hamlets of Nousk Mar, a group of three horsemen approached. Edgk soldiers blocked Nausk’s path rather then move aside, and Nausk tried to talk them down. Yet, they refused, and before Nausk could make a more serious threat, he felt a sudden wave of heat and blacked out, as an explosive magic reigned down behind him, killing several men and destroying his horse. Nausk felt pain as he slowly awoke, his blurry eyes making out his last elite soldiers making a final stand around him as Edgk soldiers smashed their way from all sides against him. Amongst them was the rogue mage, Caizera Venkbaug who shouted her magic, witnessing as one soldier’s armor crushed him. Nausk tried to stand to fight, but was far too weak as his soldiers fell one by one to the Edgk ambush. Nausk cursed in his mind as he watched soldiers finish his guard off and approach him menacingly. Yet, as one soldier reached for his halberd to slam down on the Consul, a shot rang out as an arrow pierced the soldier’s face and fell at his side. A rider on a horse galloped beside the duke, notching a bow and aiming it at the soldiers and Nausk noticed some confusion. There was a short and blurred discussion between the rider and the Caizera. Nausk looked surprised, seeing the soldiers retreat rather suddenly at Caizera’s orders, and Kara Neskerbaud saddled the duke onto her horse, riding off fast in an unknown direction.
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When Nausk awoke, he found himself in a strange place, but on a stone floor. Before him lay a strange grove-like temple, garbled in tree trunks and in all direction was marshland and woods, and to his side was the all too familiar elderly Okan witch, Bun an’ Muck. Bun congratulated the duke on his survival, and Nausk remained in pain.

“Kara. . .Kara Nesk. . .Neskerbaud. Where is. . .why. . .”

“Ya took a bad wound, me friend. Rest now as I go get my salves.” was the last thing Nausk heard as he went back into the twilight, and awoke only again to find Bun and some other soothsayers at his side.

Nausk spent a day regaining strength, and soon learned he was in the lair of the soothsayers themselves, as they often told him as such. When Nausk had enough energy to walk again, he began to explore, and found Kara talking in a hostile manner to one of the Okan soothsayers. Kara disengaged from the conversation, as Nausk began to ask her a great deal of questions.

“When I escaped the custody of your guards and returned to my hunt here, I did not exactly expect to be saving you, so I suppose we can call it even now. Caizera and I don’t exactly like each other, and would have just as likely killed me if I had not lied to her about reinforcements coming. As for why she and those guards attacked you, that's between you and the Desbaugs. . .and the guild of Illustrious Magi. I knew these soothsayers were healers, found one wandering by when he noticed and recognized you, the rest was history.”

Nausk felt surprised, although lamented he shouldn’t have been. He had known the Desbaugs to be decadent fools, but not to try to assassinate a Consul. Yet, through Bun he learned the purpose of the assassination attempt. Gradkarm was fearful of confrontation, and knew he could not win against either army in his state, but refusing to back down he decided drastic actions were required. Bun revealed through her divination a frantic meeting between Gradkarm and Caizera, Gradkarm angrily yelling for not bringing Nausk alive to him as a captive, and Caizera proclaiming her life was more valuable. Caizera eventually used teleportation, with Gradkarm begging her to stay. Nausk had nearly felt sorry as the wide eyed duke rushed about, calling for advisers in his private moment, even cursing himself. Yet, Nausk’s anger for the murder of his men was not satiated, but felt far too weak to return to camp. Nausk tried to leave the temple, but Bun had tangled vines bring him back as she warned him his wounds were far too grievous and encouraged him to stay for a bit longer.

During his stay with the strange Magi, Nausk began to understand a little more about the soothsayers, many of their non-magical members were Okan clansmen who never left Edgk and worshipers of the god Luraii. Nausk had suspected and even imaged the worshipers would sacrifice humans as he was told, but rather, most were giving rather humble praise to other strange and more moderate ideals. Nausk explored the temple more, and within the depths after following Bun sneakily through the caverns, found a domed cave made of mud, root, and stone. It was there, Nausk found the hibernating Za’kain, Marsh Guardian and once the warrior hero of Edgk. Bun introduced Nausk to her ‘ancestor’, as his once decaying form returned to life and came out of the tree roots with cracking abandon, terrifying Nausk at first. Bun calmed Nausk, and remarked his curiosity with a snide approval. Za’kain however remained silent as ever, only identifying with Nausk as ‘Invader’ and ‘Pink Freak’. These insults fazed Nausk a bit, in which Bun excused her ancestor for ‘being a proud and dead ruler, when stripped of title and rank, is little more than a great guard for a sleeping god’. Za’kain disliked such comments, but did nothing about it.

Nausk felt almost tutored as the three discussed things in those caverns below, the slowly healing Nausk becoming more attuned with his surroundings. Nausk felt disgusted by the Okan rituals of turning once proud warriors into obedient warrior liches, but yet felt embarrassed when Za’kain spoke of the embarrassment of dealing with Gradkarm. Za’kain brought up that Nausk had greater rank, but acted like a servant, despite the power and resources around him. Even at a height of Nausk’s aggression against the Desbaugs, he had to be goaded to act, which the once former ruler of Edgk testified was something he found odd about humanity and the Muoarmans in general. Nausk wondered how Za’kain felt about his own situation, in which the Marsh Guardian replied; “I am a ruler, but not by a crown, but by voice. When I call for the people to come, they will, for they know what happens when they do not. I earn respect not by rank, but by action. I rule more of this land in a way then the current ruler does, an illusion it is, the title of duke, consul, grand duke. . .all empty phrases to goad the delusion of respect.”

“You say my rank is a delusion?”

Bun answered for her ancestor “Aye, in a way, all ranks are such. We grant onto even the gods heaps of empty respect, names which are meaningless. In the end, only action counts, you just need to be the first to act.”

Nausk continued to speak with the two, but eventually returned with Bun to the surface of the temple. One final check by the soothsayers confirmed Nausk’s health, before the Consul met back up with Kara where he felt a bit depressed. . .and motivated. Nausk hurried Kara onto her horse beckoned her to take him back to the camp. They two rode back, and was met with many of Nausk’s friends and allies, surprised and relieved he was alive after the discovery of his dead guard. Nausk invited Kara into his camp and then into his war room along with his captains, feeling a bit more insightful and believing he was wrong in his philosophy of dealing with Gradkarm. Nausk motioned his captain to prepare the army, and that they would march on Nousk Mar.
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Nausk led a 4,000 soldiers from his camps, including heavy cavalry and his elite Uesbergan through the roads, as they moved with infuriated movement as they marched onto Nousk Mar. The city’s gates were closed, and when Gaszbam soldiers asked what Nausk was doing, Nausk only responded with “Dealing with the situation”. The army surrounded the city and blocked entrance in and out of the city, while Nausk called out not for the Desbaugs, but for the captains guarding the city. Nausk gathered soldiers from the surrounding barracks who didn’t flee to the city in time, which was sizable, around 1,500 soldiers. Nausk offered them a choice, take his money and switch sides or be hanged as traitors. The Edgk soldiers readily agreed and joined the siege camp, in which Nausk used to goad the defenders to switch sides and to not fire on his camp from the walls. The Edgk soldiers naturally did start pushing the camp back as they didn’t exactly care for each other, but the sight of Edgk flags in Nausk’s siege broke their resolve to try to go out and meet their enemy.

Surprisingly, Nausk was joined by not only a small levy band of the new nobility which rounded 600, but many outlying Edgk villages and barracks. 1,400 militias gathered in Nausk’s camp from many nearby villages. Nausk didn’t offer terms of surrender until a few days into the siege when Garlor finally sent an envoy demanding Nausk break his siege. Nausk had planned an assault on the city till he had received a strange opportunity. A Okan approached him, a shop apprentice from the city, who had been an agent for Za’kain and the soothsayers. He gave Nausk information of sizable Okan tunnel networks beneath the city, partially closed up but still in use by the Okan. The Desbaugs knew little of these tunnels, and were likely patching them up before their discovery. Nausk wasted no time, sending his elven friend Zar and some elite Uesbergan into the tunnels, where they discovered a loose network along with many hiding Okan. The soldiers removed the Okan from the tunnels and were able to breach near a eastern gatehouse of the city, fighting their way to disperse the light guard and claim the section of the city. The Edgk defenders fled to other fortifications.

The urban nobles discussed the issue rather quickly as Nausk’s soldiers were preparing to batter down the gates to the upper city. The nobles, fearful of Nausk’s reprieve ordered their commanders to open the gates. Gradkarm was barely aware, as his armor troubled him trying to find proper armor for him, which soon changed to trying to find a disguise. The nobles welcomed Nausk as he personally rode through the open gates, but the Consul seemed disinterested, only demanding to know where Gradkarm was. The nobles directed him to the keep, where Nausk simply told the nobility to return to their homes. As the nobles retreated, Nausk noticed that two soldiers were brought before him, instantly recognizing them as those who tried to assassinate him, promoted to commanders after their deed. Nausk ordered them hang with their rank sealed, and led his forces into the keep. Nausk was approached by a representative of the Guild of Illustrious Magi, a man who troubled him the moment the two met in the court of Gradkarm. The man begged for mercy as Nausk also ordered him hanged for treason. Zerban came to his side, asking Nausk if he intended to hang all the traitors, which reminded far too much of his own situation he had been in. Nausk made it clear he would hang most of the traitors, and had no intention of sparring them, but would not touch their families in order to calm Zerban.

Nausk and his guard entered the Desbaug keep, where Gradkarm’s own soldiers dragged him to his court in order to try to get a pardon from Nausk. Nausk agreed, as the ever defiant Gradkarm looked up and sneered at Nausk. “Tyrant! That is what you are! I am the son of the dukes of Edgk, the rightful ruler beneath the cloak of the gods! You have no right to spill Muoarman blood, you elkadan traitor! You, and Garlor, you are fools to think you can depose me! I am a duke, damn you! Your ra---”

Nausk drew his sword, interrupting him “You are by rank duke, but not my equal. You have committed crimes against me, against the wishes of the Grand Duchess, and against your fellow Muoarmans. I have not abused my rank, but clearly that idea must end, and by the right of my title as Consul, I declare you and your family incapable of rule and a danger to the people. I should call you a wretched disease, a wrathful idiot. You will live to see your land given to better men. . .I’ll make sure of it.” Nausk slowly sheathed his sword, his retinue watching nervously, expecting him to kill Gradkarm. The soldiers led the duke away to his own dungeons and Nausk sat on the Desbaug throne, exhausted and tired. By the end of the night, the city was fully taken.

Nausk’s first act as duke was to collapse the Okan tunnels and to replace the city guard, his second was to meet with Garlor who came with his own army in the defense of Gradkarm. Garlor was shocked, but yet feeling unsurprised, that Nausk would take the city. Garlor met Nausk in the court, with the two quickly devolving into bickering about many of their issues between one another, but the most important of which was the fate of Edgk. Neither Consul trusted one another to deliver a fair verdict, and it wasn’t much an ideological issue as much as it was an issue of personal rivalry. Even when Nausk informed Garlor of Gradkarm’s attempt on his life, the strong duke was unfazed and still argued for Gradkarm’s freedom. Garlor didn’t want to upset the balance of power in Edgk, even if he had to work with an incompetent and hostile duke, and believed wholeheartily that Nausk overstepped his bounds. Nausk accused Garlor of not seeing Gradkarm’s actions as sabotage for his own gain, in which Garlor pointed out the corpses of Nausk’s enemies outside and inside the capital swinging from trees.

Garlor left empty handed, but warned he would lay down his title as Consul if he had to work alongside Nausk a moment longer, an idea which Nausk prodded his old enemy with. Neither force seemed willing to continue, but Nausk felt his campaign falling apart as true to his word, Garlor was packing up his camp to return home. Nausk felt confident he could continue the campaign without Garlor’s aid, and began to plan his campaign without his aid. Nausk did not feel powerful, but Garlor likely planned to cause trouble as soon as he returned home, as Garlor’s envoys were caught trying to spread rumors of Nausk’s supposed misdeeds. Nausk’s mission felt empty and confused, as conquest of Ok’va had taken a back seat to dealing with issues and political decay in Edgk. Nausk ruled Edgk much like his own realm, although his poor understanding of Edgk’s people and his dismissive nature soon caused issues, which required more mending. The stalling of the campaign had reached the eyes and ears of the Grand Duchess, who was not pleased.

Time passed on up until Nausk was approached by a royal envoy, but as soon as the envoy entered did Nausk saw a one eyed, white wearing elderman, Lorgan Burges. Lorgan introduced himself as the Marshal of Information for all of Muoarma, and informed Nausk of the general displeased mood of the Grand Duchess. Nausk complained of his woes, which Lorgan understood to some degree. Lorgan asked Nausk to step down, and Nausk at first refused, up until Lorgan began a long winded speech of the shame this whole affair would bring to not only the country, but to his family and army. Lorgan notes that while Nausk was fully justified, he had also noted that Nausk needed to ‘let the issue slide under the marsh of the land, and continue for the grace of the gods, country, and his army’. Nausk still did not want to give his old enemy, Garlor, a chance to further defy him, but after some further talking down by Lorgan, Nausk agreed to step down and return the army to its position, and to leave the situation in the hands of the Grand Duchess. After a short rest and a speech to his army, Nausk and his friends left the city of Nousk Mar, leaving it in the hands of Lorgan and Edgk captains.

Lorgan invited Garlor and his captains to the capital, where he tried to explain the situation to Garlor, who was still less then happy that Nausk had gotten away with little more than a talking down by the Grand Duchess, but yet his mood changed when he was offered to settle the disputes of Edgk’s court. Many of Gradkarm’s loyalists flocked to Garlor, hoping to restart their dramatic encounter with Nausk for revenge, but much to their own shock and to no one else’s, Garlor had done things much more differently than what he had claimed when he met Nausk. Garlor pardoned Gradkarm for his role in the attempted assassination on Nausk, dismissing it as ‘little to no proof’, since Nausk had essentially murdered most of his would be murderers. However, Garlor did charge the Duke of Edgk with various other crimes, and tacked on other controversies as reasons for him be deposed. Garlor and Lorgan banished Gradkarm to Olma, and placed a lesser member of the family who had been in Garlor’s camp for awhile since he arrived, a distant relative named Uslan Desbaug, as the new Duke of Edgk.

Garlor left Nausk alone whose army began to prepare for the winter months, and began to implant his own reforms. Edgk’s tyrannical state was replaced with Garlor’s own, primarily set on rebuilding roads and infrastructure, and reworking most previous reforms. Most of the new nobility were accepted by Garlor, but only as Lorgan’s insistence on not touching Nausk’s own, although most who had once been firmly in Nausk’s grasp soon switched sides to be more in line with Garlor. While Lorgan wished to restructure the entire social order of Edgk, it’s autonomous villages and distant tribal communities of Okan and tormented villages, Garlor instead wanted to build around them, knowing full well it would take far too long to enforce normality on the region. Through the new Duke, Garlor and Nausk could at least settle the winter without further issues, although both slept uneasy, as their once main focus on Edgk’s vile nobility now turned to spite toward one another.
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Things were not looking up in Ok’va as the wails and cries of a local Cesavii temple were heard in the distant morning. Okan clansmen reported to guards dead priests and acolytes within the temple grounds of a younger temple built by both Muoarman missionaries and converted clansmen. Guards found a site horrifying to most human eyes, but to the Okan, it was a known occurrence. Bodies of the Okan priests were buried at an angle where tails and legs shot up from the ground, and the blood stained grounds had much of their silver idols looted. Statues of the god Huyii were defaced and defiled, the high priest of the temple, a human, was found in a way that was difficult to describe, but all the same murdered in a way to invoke fear. It was unknown who sacked the temple officially, but all knew it was Tenred, the current Muaj’kadeen of the Baufa’kad.

Tenred only wandered the villages outside of his own home in the deeper south marshes, but his Baufa’kad were unhappy with the state of ‘the moral depravity’ of the local Okan. The Okan Cesvii chieftains called out Tenred, knowing full well that the Baufa’kad were involved in the destruction of their temple. They petitioned the local monarchy to drive out Tenred and his fanatics, but the local rulers were still sympathetic to the old ways, and refused. Angry from inaction, religion violence was gripping the south as Tenred continued to poke and prod from his swamps, sending jabbing remarks and ironic gifts to the insulted rulers to goad them into action. The chieftains were further infuriated when Tenred actually appeared and convinced a younger member of a chieftain’s family to join the Baufa’kad, and then tricked a chieftain in killing this member in a fit of rage, only to realize the trickery shortly there after.

Having had enough of Tenred’s antics, five Okan chieftains called Tenred out and demanded he show himself and fight them. They sent an envoy, putting the time and place within a grove outside the city which was long ago converted into a cult meeting ground for the Cult of Penaii. The chieftains waited until Tenred showed up with only a few of his followers, playing his flute to a happy tune, and then into a more funerary one. The chieftains at first were not impressed with him, as Tenred often acted arrogant and seemed to slide all around. Tenred asked that the chieftains fought him all at once, saying that surely before the site of their god they would do well fighting him. The chieftains agreed and took out weapons and formed a battle circle as in doing with the old ways. Tenred didn’t take out his weapons at first, still playing his tune, and as his music slowed, claiming the fight will begin once the music stops, he blew into his lute and shot out a poisoned dart at one, and fought the other four with his duel axes. With a mixture of fast action, some poison, and many dishonorable little tricks. The chieftains were dead, and Tenred came out victorious but injured.

While Tenred returned to his camp in the deep marsh to celebrate his victory and for his wife to tend to his wounds, Tenred came across a number of odd reports from his captains, primarily, that there were a number of scouts and spies of Ok’va disappearing on the Muoarman's border. The Okan didn’t really pay much attention to their neighbors, but there was a darkness over the information being brought it. Usually, the Okan would spy on Edgk to keep track of slaver parties, but these scouts who worked for various parties simply did not return. Tenred was curious as to why this was, but found a lack of interest from his employer, Bran Gray. Tenred obeyed, shrugging off the reports so he could focus on internal affairs. Okan intelligence officers were deeply concerned, feeling as if their scouts, agents, and spies were being purposefully hunted. The Okan nobility shrugged this off as unfortunate slaver attacks or raids by marshland beasts, but the handlers were not so certain.

However, what was rather shocking was silent leaving of the Muhan ambassador from Ok’va, along with other diplomats. The Muhan ambassador was not a very keen member of the court, and often spent their time in utter misery, deeply missing their homeland. The Okan never cared for these problems, and often most avoided the elf. It wasn’t a shock that the ambassador had left, but rather it had been silent, in that the ambassador and his entire entourage had just taken a ship in the night and left in a strange hurry. The ambassador left in quite a hurry, leaving their main estate empty, with food on the table as local servants tried to enter to investigate. Journals and major diplomatic papers were the only thing missing from the estate as Okan guards seemed a bit concerned at first, believing the entire embassy was attacked in the night. Only a local dockmaster of the Okan capital confirmed that the elves followed another onto a boat headed for Muha.

The Okan king and his court were not amused, but not exactly worried either. The spymaster of the realm made it clear he wasn’t worried either, believing that the elves were ‘homesick’ and would return eventually, but secretly the Okan spymaster of Ok’va was more concerned over his faith and was busier overseeing his son’s coming of age ritual. The Okan king, Toag Flekbatter, didn’t really concern himself with such affairs. Despite insistence from family and others to investigate the matter, Toag was more interested in the affairs of a small drama between some rival chieftains which threatened an allied clan’s herbal farms, and a supposed corruption within the alchemist guilds of Ok’va. Toag was often bringing families together through diplomacy, and used their dramas as an excuse to further centralize the realm, removing the rights of nobles in order to personally oversee issues, and diplomacy wasn’t really on his mind. To Toag, the defensive alliance they had with Muha and Olma was to deter the Muoarmans at best, and to break them apart at worst, and Ok’va would be safe in their marshland.

Prince Mungan Flekbatter was suspicious of the happenings in both Ok’va and Muoarma, a idea which he and his father did not share. Mungan began to send for scouts and agents, but only two showed up who were from the northern part of Ok’va who watched the border with the republic. Mungan sent these scouts to look for the missing scouts, finding nothing but smashed up camps and Okan tracks, which caused Mungan to become concerned. Mungan called a general meeting with his spymaster and spies, but they had gotten nowhere, nothing but tidbits of information and some general warnings. Mungan wanted news from Muoarma, but his spymaster scoffed and told Mungan that the Muoarmans were ‘just living like wild animals in there stone and marble houses, as usual’. In order to relieve the Prince’s further suspicions, the spymaster sent out his replacement agents to call back all Ok’van agents and scouts, and to begin the training of new ones if they cannot be found, chalking up their disappearances as ‘unknown attacks’.
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Marsha Penosbaug was reviewing the situation with her advisers in private chambers, and new reports from her spymaster Lorgan. Things were smoothing out, but the concerns of what had happened caused Marsha some doubts about the campaign, and that despite the two Consuls now at least having armies on the border and ready to invade Ok’va, their rivalry was now affecting the campaign, and the issues of what happened in Edgk disturbed Marsha. It was one thing to recieve nonsense reports of the depravity of what went on in the court of the Desbaugs, but it was another when one tried to assassinate a Consul. Gradkarm would have been executed by any other lord for his actions, but Marsha was happy the Consuls didn’t escalate the situation and sabotage her campaign. Marsha and her advisers were interrupted with a knock on the door to the chamber, and her son and heir Resan Penosbaug stepped in.

Marsha excused her advisers, all except her gladiator bodyguard and Resan’s, with Resan making a rather odd request, wanting to help lead the armies of Muoarma. Marsha hasn’t even told Resan her plans, and when asked, Resan had only mentioned he had his own spies, a fact which made Marsha secretly proud of her would be heir. Resan wasn’t her firstborn, and wasn’t legally her heir to Muoarma, but his young and intelligent being along with his loyalty and willingness to allow his mother to rule and tutor him had made him a better option than other siblings. Resan argued that if he was to make the conquest of Ok’va truly a Muoarman cause, a Penosbaug had to lead the charge. Marsha agreed with some aspects of such an argument, but also argued that battlefields were dangerous to one’s health, citing an ancestor’s sudden sickness during a march. Resan was undeterred, wanting to improve his standing in the army and to lead the main force into Ok’va for more than just the glory and expansion of Muoarma, but for the Penosbaug family.

Marsha had received reports from Lorgan, and Resan’s offer was tempting, but his life was far too valuable to her as a clear heir to her throne. Sending a third army to help coordinate things between Garlor and Nausk would prevent further damage, but of the commanders of Muoarma, known were up to such as task of controlling such Consuls it seemed. Marsha debated her son on common tactics, prying for an excuse to not send him, but Resan seemed more prepared than she was. Resan had his own set of plans, but wasn’t well read on Ok’va or its people. The best experience Resan had with the Okan was through his loyal slave and bodyguard which all Penosbaugs had, and it did show. Marsha wasn’t well versed either in Okan, but knew more of their traditions when she discussed such things in the early phases of her planning.

Marsha listened, but ultimately dismissed him to think on it more, but Marsha’s mind was made up. Marsha ordered her son to the royal barracks, where at first treated honorably as a commander, it became increasingly clear his duties was not to lead a new army, but to train and command the local garrisons, which he quickly grew bored with. Unable to admit he was in a situation he didn’t want to be in, he made it clear in passing his displeasement which Marsha brushed aside. Resan began his tenure under the command of fellow generals and commanding the remaining Uesbergan, training and recruiting new recruits, and managing the coming winter logistics. While Resan would continue to insist on going elsewhere, he planned to make the best of his situation, drilling and organizing the garrisons with quick ease.

However, as Resan was going about various duties, he began to run into many accidents which annoyed him to no end and terrified his mother. One incident was when during a march to a barracks having a food shortage, a small rockslide nearly crushed him. In another, one of Resan’s scouts crossed a bridge which snapped and fell into a river filled with sharpened stakes, which caused immediate suspicion with inspection, as it was clear it was of Okan design according to Resan’s own Okan bodyguard. Resan ordered an investigation, believing it to be little more then perhaps some vengeful escaped slaves hiding out as bandits in the woods. Marsha felt paranoid without the aid of Lorgan who knew these things better, and decided to change up her son’s schedule to try to find a pattern. Marsha expected her estranged son, Tesan Penosbaug, would try such an action, but had no proof to the matter. When nothing happened the following week, she breathed a sigh of relief and began starting the winter festivities.

Resan, with much of the Penosbaug family, arrived in the main palace of Aedeth Mar to attend a major festive party to begin the start of winter. It was also a time where the nobles of the country often liked to boast of their deeds. Missing this year was the Consuls, who both decided to bunker down with their armies and finish up mopping Edgk, and also excluding Tesan and his family who refused to go out of principle. Resan was enjoying himself during an exchange and was making a toast to the audience, as Marsha was explaining her intentions very subtly with worried nobles and curious diplomats during the affair of what the army was doing in Edgk. Officially, the army was cleaning up a bandit mess rather than preparing for the invasion of Ok’va, but Marsha had hinted to both guests of the Grand Duchy and neighbors of her real intentions. Resan was offered a glass of wine and was eager to drink it, but instead offered some to one of his captains whom he peer pressured into drinking instead. The captain readily drank, his face soured, and began to cough. In moments, the jolly mood of the room turned to horror as the captain began to barf onto the floor, followed shortly by blood, and the man collapsed. The room was cleared after the horrifying event, as the captain was pronounced dead rather swiftly.

The direct attack was an odd attempt, but one which was difficult to avoid. An assassin, using a powerful and expensive Okan poison had snuck their way into the kitchen staff and apparently was able to hand the prince the drink without much care of others, and slipped away before they could be caught. Marsha’s agents searched high and low, but it mattered little, as before Resan could even grieve his friend, she had him packing for Edgk. Not wishing to be responsible for her failure to spot such things, and believing Lorgan would better take care of him, Resan was gifted with two regiments and sent to the army of Nausk and Garlor to begin aiding and coordinating the main battle lines into Ok’va. Her suspicion immediately fell on her son Tesan, and she summoned him to the capital, his refusal would have meant immediate betrayal.

Tesan arrived with his own guard, and approached his mother in private rather than talking in an open room, where despite the two being of one family, Tesan could not stand his mother. Both argued for hours, Tesan throwing a fit and smashing a table in anger were Marsha still refused to acknowledge that she had stolen the throne from him. Tesan angrily demanded his country, and Marsha refused, interrogating him on the attempted life on Resan. Tesan refused to answer, only saying that he would ‘grieve for his brother if such things came to pass, the same could not be said of you’ to his mother. Marsha ordered her son out, and threatened to kill him if he continued to interfere, in which Tesan then threatened to cause rebellion during ‘her precious little war’. Tesan stormed off back to Souk Mar to sulk, his mother watching him leave and planning to spite him.
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Slagar Lord of Disappointment, Witch King of Saltmar

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Summary


=-=Invasion of Ok’va, Spring 999 - Summer 999, 2nd Age=-=


In the midst of a spring festival in Aedeth Mar, gathering diplomats of Muoarma’s neighbors and other figures, including prominent nobles and religious officials, Marsha Penosbaug appeared in a black robe before her court. She told her court that she was perplexed, and made a rather bold claim, that because her ancestors had taken the marshland of the Ok’van marshes, she had rightful reign over the entire marshland. Marsha continued, claiming that while her ancestors had never acted on claiming the land for themselves, having had difficulties with other affairs in the past, she was now in position to claim the land as a proper duchy, and would send the army to reclaim the land from ‘Uncivilized forces’. Those in court would have asked her about Ok’va and it’s kingdom, but before Marsha spoke, her chamberlain made her next statement rather clear. Muoarma would no longer value the right of property for Beastfolk of any race, their lands and lives are far too savage to be considered a civilization, a hostile tribe bound to foreign devils, and thus any claim they had over their own land was void. Marsha exclaimed that Ok’va doesn’t make treaties, which was partially true, and told her court of the atrocities they commit onto themselves and others. The Priests in the court shifted nervously as Marsha explained that Ok’va and other nations like it were a stain on the prosperity of the nation, and that as ruler of the Ok’van marshes by right of her ancestor’s conquests, thus she had claim to it as well, and since the Okan people were savages, there was no need to have diplomacy with them, and their land was up for grabs in the eyes of Marsha’s state. Muoarma was now officially at war.

Marsha hosted a massive party in the capital’s arena, the Guild of the Studded Collar ordered pit fighters and large beasts to entertain crowds as Marsha invited concerned parties to her. The Zemnalkov diplomat was summoned first where Marsha made sure to treat with dignity, but also made it pretty clear that her flimsy claims on the Ok’van marshes did not extend to their nation, her aim was solely on Ok’va, and after the war she would agree to a formal treaty to hammer out details on such matters. Her next group of critics surprised her, the Temple of Cesvaii. The Cesvaii Usgai revealed to Marsha that in secret, over many years, the temple had been secretly building up a huge influence in Ok’va, having even converted its royal family and southern population to the same faith. Marsha was upset by this, more due to the fact it could complicate matters, and argued that her armies would treat converted Okan well. The temple’s representatives were not convinced, but due to their weak power, could do little to nothing, and simply asked for the main army to safeguard monasteries and missions if they came across them, something Marsha quickly agreed too.

Before her speech was over, messages were sent to the Consuls, and the armies made ready. Banners were flown as two massive armies left their camps in Edgk and began moving toward the Ok’va border, where scouts and watchers could see the vast army slowly approaching across an increasingly murky marsh, the trees becoming more gnarled and waterlogged, as the pitched camps bloomed with the bright glow of camp fires. The roads which Gaszbam Consul had built sped along the massive armies to the edge of the country swiftly, as desperate watchers pulled back into the mainland to warn their villages and clans. The Gaszbam army had immediately for the coast, following along the beachline to make its way toward the coastal heartland of the Ok’van kingdom, as the Zengher army cautiously prodded at the edge, waiting to make its way inland where the many clans and villages were waiting for the oncoming army.
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Nausk Gotembaug took only a small portion of his army, not wanting to be bogged down by attrition in the swampy land, behind him were his many companions and friends he had made along the way to this point. Nausk was optimistic, an easy and glorious conquest awaited him if he was patient enough, and the meek Okan people would likely surrender under the might of the Muoarman grand army. While the main army stayed behind to provide reinforcements if need be, the main elite force would build a path for large forces. As Nausk rode next to his army, a panicked scout rode up to him, looking a bit shaken. Nausk and Zar’usaga, his elven friend and master scout, rode up in front of the army as it grinded to a halt. Nausk’s companions soon rode up as well, where in front of them stood a great and morbid sight.

Far in front of the army laid a singular tree in a clearing, which lashed to it were the rotting bodies and skeletal remains of dogs, cats, and cattle along with their limbs. Some parts on the tree still howled and yelped of living animal companions of men, slashed with rope as swarms of insects and woodland animals feasted on the trapped creatures. Nausk was mortified by what he saw as the scouts prowled around it, finding other curiosities. A scout came forward, bearing the dirty and broken shards of what looked to be human, but Nausk refused to look at the discovery long and paused. Kara Neskerbaud came forward, shaking Nausk from his what he was seeing.

“Are you alright my lord?” Kara asked. Nausk shook his head “Where did the Okan get all these animals?”

“Likely stealing them from the local villages, this is a trophy grove, a sacrificial grove for their gods. Just as my folk raid Ok’va for slaves, so do Okan raid Edgk for loot. However, they don’t always just steal and rob some poor traveler, taking a living thing without being noticed is a sign of their god’s favor.”

“We should burn it.” Zerban Lulsbera commented “If our men see this. . .thing. . .they will believe we are cursed.”

“You are right. . .” Nausk collected himself. He commanded the elven sorceress Yekseen to burn the grove, and for Zar to shoot the living animals before the flames licked them. The Army marched on, with Nausk and his friends looking over the wretched grove. Nausk returned to the army, moving forward as his heart was leadened. He imagined his own troops would face cruelty by the Okan in similar manners, and perhaps that is what the Okan wanted him to think on. As Nausk’s army entered into Ok’va, the woods grew cold and the sky darkened with the overshadow of ancient water logged pines.

The Okan border hamlets and villages awoke to the surprise of their borderland watchers rushing to their villages, warning of a massive Muoarman army heading towards them. The Okan elders had plans in case of such things, having hidden and underground vaults in the untouched marshes for the clans to hide in. However, the speed of which the Muoarman army had come had surprised them, and before they could even escape, Muoarman light infantry surrounded and took the villages captive. Nausk did not go along the coast, his plan was to quickly take and occupy the towns and villages of West Mardsh, which became an increasing pain. Ok’va division of small town communities and clans made it difficult to take settlements not directly bordering Muoarma, which had time to go into secret hidden bunkers where the communal Okan could settle with their clans and organize a resistance. Just as quickly did Nausk take a town or village, Okan militias could just as easily chase away garrisons and reclaim it.

Meanwhile, Garlor Olo Veunbera’s rush for the capital was halted when his forces began to approach the town of Busaberg. Busaberg is a coastal settlement, with a small wooden fort on top of the hill and was situated above an old elven sea dam which gave more room for the Okan people of the Ok’van wetlands. Garlor’s army was content in pillaging and sacking the hamlets, adding Okan villagers to the slavish work crews to build the roads for the larger armies to approach safely. In the wetlands themselves, the armored Muoarman forces were slowed by trudging through the marshes, sinkholes, and creeks. Garlor himself was near miserable, but not as miserable as his steed, and were grateful as the army left the barely legible Okan paths and into a more clearer coastal region. What laid before Garlor’s eyes were two armies, one which was mustering under the banner of southern Okan lords who were desperately trying to organize themselves against the invader, and lesser army of local clan militias, elderly, and women who had been gathering in the town itself, preparing trenches and pitfall traps.

The Okan army and defensive militia as Busaberg knew that they could not face the armored foe in combat, and needed to retreat to Cousberg, capital of Ok’va, and home of it’s king in order to stand even a fighting chance. As the southern coastal nobles prepared for retreat, the Muoarman army was upon them, fighting in a harsh manner to prevent the human forces from overwhelming their camps. Garlor hoped that the army reinforcements would soon finish off the young gathered force, but much to his own surprise, the militia within the town sallied forth and began skirmishing against his infantry. Okan armies were fast and regularly relied on not being seen, and as archers tried to hold back Okan skirmishers, they were bombarded by more professional soldiers and were forced to retreat back. The Okan militia leaders then set fire to Busaberg and ordered their own overlords to retreat to the western lands, and took the fortress above the town as their own, preparing defenses as the Muoarmans regrouped.

The Okan militias however had a plan in case Garlor decided to just set down a siege on their fortified position and chased the refugees and Okan army across the river, devastating them as they went. The Okan militias had their noble’s banners situated in the fortress, had their leaders take on the noble armor of local lords, and blew war horns to trick the Muoarman army into thinking that their position held the local lords, a prize which Garlor could not ignore. The real nobles gathered their armies and refugees, and made for the border post haste, and once they retreated into the marshes, they could disappear. The Muoarmans assaulted the wooden fortress with fire and siege weapons, burrowing even beneath the mound and only finding traps, slingers, and a vicious zeal which kept even the elite Uesbergan at bay. Okan hunters acted as snipers, firing on captains from afar. Younger members, emboldened by the elders, even initiated a night raid, devastating scouting camps and work crews. The Okan did not budge from their fortress, and initiated the Battle of the Bloody Swamp.

The small militia grew in number, eventually being able to tunnel beneath the fort and retreated to a bog where the Okan forces regrouped. Garlor, furious at the high cost of his casualties, demanded his captains drag the Okan defenders out from the marsh, sending in the Edgk soldiers who followed them. Having taken heavy casualties themselves, the Okan refused to reveal themselves, hunting down lone patrols from the safety of their hidden bunkers beneath the marsh. As more Muoarmans entered their defensive positions, finding and scouting out an old elven ruin serving as their new quarters, the next phase of the battle began. Small teams of soldiers were sent in waves to crash against the Okan, but this only resulted in further deaths, as most fell to traps or were demoralized by the corpses the Okan paraded among the trees to ward off the demoralized forces. Okan could easily change positions over and over again in their own homeland, capable of just devastating these small teams Garlor sent before they even saw their target.

Running low on patience, Garlor gathered his secret weapon; a Sorcerer from the Guild of Illustrious Magi. The Mage attempted to cast a spell to drown the small area in a flickering light which would ignite and help burn down the trees, but the dampness made such an effort fruitless. Frightened that magic was involved, the Militia retreated further and gathered more members, more elderly and women to their forces which only slowed down their advance. The Militia continued to hold out against the onslaught, even as their forces dwindled with each battle, as more and more Muoarmans were able to flood across the border, sweeping up village after village. Yet, with every step came ambush after ambush, encounter and skirmish, and traps unending did the black and red host slow to a grinding crawl. The bravery of these militias allowed families to escape, along with soldiers, as Okan wives pushed out sons and fathers from their homes and hiding holes just so they could join the militia to slow down the Muoarman advance.

The attacks by the militia were turned into sieging holdouts which shifted regularly across the wetland, and with a majority of the population escaping, Nausk saw the whole encounter as a disaster as the battle for the swamps near Busaberg became a common call for reinforcement. Nausk was cautious of sending Garlor any aid, but knew even as rivals, his ‘ally’ needed considerable aid if they were going to even have any control over what they conquered. Nausk diverted some of his own forces to aid Garlor, hoping southern reinforcements would replace his own shortly. Despite the hostility between the two Consuls, Garlor was relieved to find reinforcements aiding in destroying the remaining southern Okan forces, but yet boasted of his progress in pushing the Muoarmans against the Okan forces. Yet, as the Muoarmans seemingly stood triumphant, another force soon popped its head out from the brush.

As another couple of regiments were making their way to reinforce Nausk’s army, they were set upon by a huge Okan army which fired volleys from the marsh and retreated shortly there after. The force, frightened, was harrassed all the way through the marsh and their direction was shifted by the Okan ambushers. Lightly armored levies were wiped out by the Okan who left the corpses to rot in the marsh. This force was the Baufa’kad, led by their leader Tenred and his zealous force. Bodies were found shortly thereafter, and Nausk was mortified by what was reported. Tenred’s Baufa’kad was unknown the Muoarmans, and had been haunting the southern coastal land, and were the last to find warnings of the invasion. Taking no time to do much outside prepare for war, the Baufa’kad and their forces converged and watched both Nausk and Garlor’s armies, and unleashed hell on their supply lines. Baufa’kad began to break apart the work crews clearing forests for roads, and their acts on wiping out reinforcements had brought a rare hope for the occupied region. Tenred used rather unconventional tactics which horrified the captains of the Muoarman armies, bobbytrapping dead bodies being a favorite. The swift moving force was far out of range, and after the recent battle against a barely prepared militia which also wreak havoc on Muoarman trained troops, neither force wanted to directly engage the Okan.

Garlor was still convinced that if he pushed on the Okan capital of Cousberg, Ok’va’s meek people would surrender. Already, a blockade of ships was preparing to surround the coastal regions and the capture of the destroyed town of Busaberg meant that the was clear to advance to the river, and did not have much more resistance. Garlor sent his son, Tanberg Veunbera, to swap away the Baufa’kad warriors tormenting his reinforcements and supply wagons. While the Okan were retreating and hiding well in their Marsh, actively patrolling for them lessened their efforts, as the Baufa’kad were unwilling to fight several regiments, even if certain of victory. Tenred warped around the marshes, avoiding Tanberg and continued to initiate battles against singular targets, baiting Tanberg and his army further into the deeper marshes. Tanberg was unwilling to get baited, and mostly kept a distance at keeping the Baufa’kad at bay from supply wagons and reinforcing regiments.

Nausk however had a different idea, considering what his army was now in. Nausk’s army moved towards the river as well, acting as a barrier from northern Ok’va to reinforce it’s southern counterparts. However, Nausk noticed how unwilling the Okan wanted to engage in combat at all, preferring to use traps and ambushes, something he suspected. What he was not prepared for was just how mobile the Okan armies could be, escaping combat and initiating it without much worry for ever being caught by slower and exhausted Muoarman forces. Nausk’s forces were constantly hounded, and keeping control over the villages and hamlets of the convoluted country was difficult. While they may have been winning the war right now, Nausk knew his forces faced mostly small militias and disorganized assaults. Nausk had a plan to deal with such things, and began ordering the construction of defensive forts and walled towers on the limited flat ground there was in Ok’va. These forts gave a safe passage for supply chains to reach Nausk’s army, and a safe ground for which to camp it, but their limited space only meant only limited reinforcements could use them. Heavy patrols were enacted, and many of the captured Okan villagers were set to expand the forts and maintain them, forcing would be hostile clansmen to think twice before sieging them lest they kill their own. Nausk continued into the soft underbelly of Cousland, attempting to reach the main riverland going into West Mardsh.
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When the first refugees arrived in Cousberg, there was doubt from the high class of society, believing their people wailed of common slaver attacks from the Muoarman border. It wasn’t until a vast train of soldiers, commoners, clansmen, and even Muoarman priests leading Okan acolytes to Cousberg did King Toag Flekbatter realize what was going on. Immediately, Toag called council and sent messengers out to his allies within the coalition to aid him, seeing how their diplomats had mysteriously left. Toag and his council were shocked to learn that the Muoarman navy had effectively targeted these ships and sank them, their crews thankfully swimming to Cousberg unharmed to warn them of such a maneuver. It wasn’t until Toag could look out and see Muoarman galleys coming closer to the port, harassing watch towers and sometimes even engaging Okan warships did the Okan King realize how dire the situation truly was. Muoarman galleys, led by Nebern Cusvera, began to creep closer to the stationed ports, only kept at bay by the much larger Okan forces in the city.

Toag’s son, Mungan Flekbatter, heard the news before his father did, and took it far more seriously as the first refugees entered Cousberg and West Mardsh. Mungan had little time, bursting into the council chambers of his father, decrying what was happening, and demanded to be placed in charge of Ok’va’s armies. The Okan king and his son argued, but Toag relented, and allowed Mungan to take control of the situation, charging him with beating back the Muoarmans from the realm, as he would deal with the Muoarman navy and gather the allies. Mungan suspected that the Muoarmans were likely trying to remove Ok’va before heading to Olma and Muha next, as a well defended Ok’va would be impossible to thwart from the marsh, at least that is how Mungan reasoned it as. Mungan gathered the captains of Cousberg, as banners waved through the streets of the Okan city. Mungan approached the priests of the old and new gods, making oaths and promises before them, and blew a ram’s horn of his ancestral family, calling the warriors to war. 3,000 Okan warriors left the city, moving to the beat of war drums and bloody chants.

Mungan’s firstmost task was to keep West Mardsh safe, and traveled to thwart the fast moving Muoarman invasion, which slowly threaded along the coast. Joining him was the southern army of East Mardsh of the coasts, leading them were many nobles and their skilled warriors. Having been saved from total annihilation at the hands of the sudden invasion by their brave militias, the Okan lords wished for vengeance and pitched camp outside of Cousberg’s hamlets and joined Mungan in his march. Okan warriors from across the hamlets joined Mungan, and soon the emergency army swelled to 5,600. It would not be enough to deal the killing blow against any army on the open field, but Mungan knew of Okan tactics well enough to know he didn’t need to engage the Muoarman army in the open. Mungan and his captains marched directly to the Mardsh River, and soon found the Muoarmans already trying to cross it.

The Okan army engaged the crossing Muoarmans, battling their smaller divisions and forcing them back onto boats. Garlor was dealing with other issues, and one of his captains watched as retreating men made their way back into rafts. As the Okan army appeared, the Okan swam up to boats and began to sink them and drown men, targeting elite Uesbergan who’s armor weighed them to the bottom of the river. Then, the Okan army retreated. The captains bunkered down for the night, not aware that the bulk of Mungan’s army, including himself, were crossing the river upstream from the coast, and ambushed the army across several fronts. Garlor’s advance army assembled to try to attack the Okan, but each army would retreat, and fortify positions among the wetlands where they could quickly build pitfall traps lined with wooden stakes and snakes. Okan often used spear-thrower devices to give more range to their Javelins, commonly employed their huntsmen as snipers, and used various poisons from their large variety of wetland plants to damage and harm the army. Garlor’s army was surrounded at one point, and forced their way through Okan defenses back into safer positions below the main wetlands near the old elven sea dam.

The victory had been won, and the Okan army rested in the walled encampments left behind by the retreating Muoarmans. Mungan rested with his troops, getting fresh reports from across Muoarma and making his own battle plans. Mungan was shocked to learn that two armies, one led by another Consul, was slowly approaching the river as well, and the Muoarmans were bringing a massive force into the swamps. Mungan was approached by envoys of West Mardsh, especially of his family ally Bran Gray, who promised reinforcements from the west of West Mardsh which could number up to 10,000 men, and all Mungan had to do was hold off the forces of Muoarma long enough to secure a win. Mungan and his captains believed the best way to handle such a war would be to focus on Garlor’s army, and then surround Nausk’s, crushing them through attrition and slowing their advances with surprise attacks and subterfuge. However, a younger member of the captains also claimed that the Baufa’kad were roaming around, and perhaps they would be of aid. Mungan was open to such an idea, as Tenred and his forces were by his scout’s standards holding out against the invasion well, but yet as he considered it, Mungan was called away by a servant to another part of the camp.

Three Okan druids appeared, and having heard the call of war, offered Mungan the blessings of the gods and aid to his army. Having seen Mungan’s bravery and skill, the druids claimed the gods showed favor on him, and demanded he make proper sacrifices to them. Mungan knew the sacrifices all too well, and agreed to watch the rituals, but not to give them blood. The Druids scoffed at the suggestion, and demanded only the bodies of the Muoarmans slain as tribute. Mungan and some close captains followed the druids to a secret grove, where an ancient Horned King laid watching, and in which Mungan and the druids gave the bodies of some dead Muoarmans to the ancient ‘god’. The dark beast cackled and devoured the corpses.

The dark beast latched down it’s claw into the murky waters below it, and from the depths of the swamp a small host appeared all around Mungan, terrifying him at first. An ancient Okan warrior, with shield and sword rusted by the wetland, appeared half decayed before him, its mucky ‘heart’ beating in the ritual wound on it's chest. With it, a large number of spriggans and boggers also arose and bowed to Mungan and the druids. Mungan returned to his camp with his new ‘allies’ in tow, adding them into his army, but directed the druids to keep them away from his sight, as he was personally frightened of what he saw.

Once readied and rested, the Okan army marched out of its position, splitting into 7 armies to raid and torment the Muoarman advance, build traps, and set up fortifications to prevent the Muoarmans from reaching the river again. Mungan went directly after Nausk to keep his army from further advancing, while other beat back Garlor as best they could, hoping to be reinforced by the rest of West Mardsh as it mustered for the coming conflict.
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