Lord of the Gallows - A Prison Colony Builder

General Lothar Vanrich
- Scour the archives.

When the empire had become obsessed with its records and ledgers, you did not know, but you were pretty certain that there was somewhere an archive that documented that topic in excruciating detail. Some people joked that there was more parchment than earth beneath the capital and your brief few forays into the endless catacombs made you wonder if it was not maybe true. The archives of Vollug were, by comparison, laughably small, but the sturdy stone building was still one of the largest in the city and undoubtedly the oldest, what with the imperial eagle above the main portal having a single lions head. It had not been maintained all that well, weather and age stripping away most of the carvings and sculptures that once adorned it, but some were still there and hinted at the glorious past, not only of this building, but of the city itself.

Within the building though, things felt far more familiar. Archivars toiled all day, darting through endless shelves full of scrolls, books and papers in the ceaseless attempts to tame it all, while scribes eagerly added to it all, the ink of their quills flowing like a river. A peasant son had been born in the town of Ganrig, and now he needed adding to dozens of ledgers. Heavy wind had damaged a fisher's boat on the island of Lore, so he had asked for his taxes to be lowered. One of the ships leaving Vollug had reported that there was sub-par copper hidden in the shipment they had bought, leaving the cities magistrate with the task of investigating the matter. For all the empire was, halls like this were it's beating hard for so long that no one could imagine it another way anymore.

You had discovered your fondness for the imperial archives only when your life had begun to truly depend on them. Keeping the eastern border walls staffed, those men fed and armed, and paying for it all was a task of mindboggling size and yet it was seemingly so easy that a single general was expected to oversee it all. And you did. With some difficulties at first, but over the years, as you had learned to read the paths and movements of the bureaucracy as well as those of an enemy army, it became easier and easier. Now this experience came in handy again, letting you quickly establish a rapport with the scribes, who are usually rather protective of their domain. But someone who knew his way around an archive on his own and only wanted to dig through centuries old documents? That was an easy enough request for them.

So, you were granted access to older archives and began to spend a few days digging through the old parchments, starting with a few of the more recent chronicles out of a mix of curiosity and a desire to learn more about the island. For the most part, Vollug and the wider Korprey islands were a quiet place, all but forgotten by the wider world. Ever since the great plague had put an end to the colonization efforts, barely anyone paid attention to the descendants of the survivors eking out a living as the wilderness slowly reclaimed the land around them. The most exciting thing happening now and then was a privateer making his home port somewhere in the far-flung islands and the imperial navy coming to hunt them down once their hiding spot had been found.

As you worked backwards, you could slowly see how it must have been in earlier times. There used to be a great harvest festival each year in fall, and in spring they had a day long ritual to ask the gods for favours in the coming year. Scribes long dead happily reported ships being built in Vollug, both for trade and war, and you could feel the hope in their accounts. But the times never became better for the islands, turning the children and grandchildren of these people into the quiet and somewhat dour men and women that you had gotten to know over the past year. The mainland needed to rebuild after the plague had swept through it and for all that the people of Vollug had tried to become part of that, they had been left behind and forgotten.

Going back even further felt strange, as the great hopes of the time after turned into the grim horrors of the plague itself. The second wave had swept the islands hard, and yet the accounts of the great pyres and mass graves were subdued. Resigned even. It felt strange at first, until you considered what the people writing this must have had witnessed ten years prior, when the first wave had hit them. The Korprey islands were one of the regions gripped by the first outbreaks and to a man who must have witnessed those horrors, a few pyres would no longer feel all that horrifying.

It was a strange feeling to go through these chronicles, almost as if you were digging through the graves of these people, but you carried on. The prospectors had done their work two years before the plague began and if you had a better feel for what was happening in Vollug in those years, it would be much easier to find some relevant documents to the matter. Yet as you went back in the years, you found something entirely different. There was a mention of a mine. An adamantine mine. You quickly browsed through the preceding years to make sure that this was not an error and they too mentioned it.

After the plague had mostly passed from the island, some of the survivors of Vollug had begun to dig for the adamantine found in the mountains, apparently hoping to trade for desperately needed food and materials to rebuild the devasted islands. However, as the Korprey islands had a few years of relative quiet, the empire proper was hit the worst, and no one would have had any interest in buying adamantine in those years. People needed food and medicine, not metal for weapons. So they quietly stopped working in the mine since it was not worth the effort and some were worried about angering something they called 'gorger' and which lived in the northern mountains. Likely the wyverns you had spotted there. When the second wave had hit them, it killed nearly everyone who had been involved in the endeavour, letting the mine become forgotten, save for a few notes in old chronicles.

It took a few days more to unearth all relevant texts from the archives, but the empires obsession was a gift from the gods in this moment. There even was a map, showing clearly where the mine was located and showing the pass leading to it. Said pass was not even all that far from the camp you had built in the forests and when you compared the map with some of the reports from your scouts, it became clear that they had not explored it further since it seemed to only lead to a sheer cliff. Which it did, but they had not found the tunnel dug through it towards the plateau. You could work with this. The mine was a bit far from the old hillfort and would need it's own little camp, but that was hardly an obstacle with how much this discovery brought your forward.

Things seemed to look up for your expedition.

Gained map to an old adamantine main. Gained map to a walkable pass to the plateau.

---

General Lothar Vanrich
- Talk with the merchants.

Unfortunately, the luck you had in the archives was weighed up by the troubles with the merchants. None of them were eager to talk to you in any way, making very polite sounding excuses, but still brushing you off quite openly. You tried to bring up the matter with burgomaster Gudmann, but he could hardly force them to be friendlier to you, instead plainly spelling out what you had suspected. They had the ears of the engineers, so what did they need you for?

Failure.

---

The snow had stopped falling for the past week and instead the winter sun had bathed the countryside in light. It was pleasant weather to take a ride in, quite warm as long as you stayed in the sun and the fresh cold air was invigorating. However, it was not a pleasant ride you had been called out here for and as your horse slowly trotted along the path carved towards the camp, you could already see the commotion you had been expecting. A whole gaggle of Auxiliaries was standing at the edge of the forest, gawking and chattering like fishwives. Even as your horse slowly trudged through the snow, they did not take notice of you until were nearly within arm's reach. At least they all quickly saluted you when they finally became aware of your presence.

As you gazed over the area, you had to admit that it was exactly as reported, even though it had sounded rather fantastic at first. A few trees had been scorched, burned completely black up to a man's height, and the snow was gone in its entirety in a rough circle of about fifty foot. And right about in the centre of it all stood the charred remains of two people, molten remains of their chainmail gleaming where it still protruded from the blackened flesh. Then your eyes fell on the only officer present, one captain Hagen of Gothring. He was the only one standing at attention in your presence, looking straight at you as if eager to hear a command.

You really wondered how one as him had failed to make the cut as a Legionnaire. He man was still far too green and needed to learn a lot about how to lead men, a result of him having been thrust into a command role long before he had the proper seasoning for it, but he had potential. He just needed the right guidance. "Captain, report," you said, nodding towards the two dead men you had come to see.

"General Vanrich, sir," he snapped out. "During the night, the guards noticed lights moving near the camps. We assumed it to be goblin scouts and sent a squad to investigate. They fanned out to see if there were others around and to potentially cut off their escape, while two of the men approached the light directly." He paused, glancing at what had become of them. "The men are not sure what happened then. There was a great, but short roar that was heard all over the camp and the other men saw a flash of light and fire, then the lights had disappeared and left behind only the burning trees and bodies."

Goblins. Yes. You suddenly felt rather silly for having dismissed all those reports as simply the work of goblins. Maybe you were right, and it truly was just the small pests, but then they had a bloody mage on their side. Not unheard off, no, but rare. Goblins were pests. Thieves and bandits most of the time. But when they got the numbers and stole some good weapons, they could become dangerous. Having them led by whatever had this caused was a different matter entirely though.

No. You could not afford to dig in your heels and to double down on that faulty assumption. It was wishful thinking when you had dismissed everything strange. "What is your opinion, captain? What did this?"

The crowd grew quieter and all eyes went to Hagen, eagerly expecting what he had to say. The captain seemed unbothered though and only briefly thought about it before answering. "Many of the men talked about a dragon, but I think this is highly unlikely. Dragons are massive and would have left tracks, if not outright toppling trees by their presence and none of the guards saw something flying above." As you raised your hand, he trailed off.

"Did I hear that right?" You looked around the scorched area yourself. While the side that the Auxiliaries stood around was completely trampled, the other one was pristine. "You found no tracks, not even in this snow?" It was knee deep. Nobody could hide a track in that. Not even the elves could have done it without using magic.

"No, sir," Hagen replied loud and clear.

What now?
[] Lead the Auxiliaries to try and find the source of these lights. (Starts expedition.)
-[] Optional: Call in a favour for aid from the Four Temples. (Costs one favour with the Four Temples.)
-[] Optional: Ask burgomaster Gudmann to mobilize the militia to aid you. (Will owe a favour to burgomaster Gudmann.)

[] Only order the men to stay away from those lights in the future.

[] Declare the forest off-limits until further notice.

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AN: This turn had two critical successes and two critical failures. I'll let you guess which happened where.