Heirs of Sigmar

THUS IS DECREED BY HIS GRAND HIGHNESS FRANCIS LUDWIG VON ELLINBACH, GRAND COUNT OF AVERLAND, TO ALL THE KNIGHTS AND LORDS OF SIGMAR'S FAITH
(@Maugan Ra @Rincewind @Terran Imperium @Swordomatic @SirLagginton @Sinsystems @Wade Garrett )

Noble sons of Sigmar's blood! Twas one hundred years ago that my grandfathers Sir Siegfried of Stirland and Friedrich Henry von Ellinsbach, Grand Count of Averland rode in battle with the pact of dwarfs and men against the vile vampire king KONRAD VON CARSTEIN. With the blessings of Sigmar we did destroye his foule vampyre armies, and with Sigmar's grace his plot to enthrone his undead puppet Grand Count Helmut was reveal'd to us and driven out! In this year of Sigmar two thousand and two hundred, I do honor my forefathers with a grand tournament at the Plains of Striessen, so that our ancestors may look upon our arms from Morr's realm and know that these lands and children of theirs who they so labor'd to guard remain protect'd in the safe hands of our brave and noble knights of Sigmar!

For't has been fifty years and more since the swords of men were last raised against the the hosts of the foule living dead, and more still since the last ravages of the greenskins hath travers'd our lands! Our greatest foes may soon forget that in times of strife, all we men shall fight with Sigmar's grace to vanquish those vile things that walk his sacred lands, and shall do so by the valor and the force of arms with which our Holy Sigmar hath bless'd us! But we, brothers, musn't ever forget! For all thou art my brothers on the field of battle that may come, in the next day when the undead or the greenskins or the heretic or slaves of darkness should trouble our lands, and in the next, and the next, and the next! So soon in our petty quarrels is sacred duty which bindes us together, we sons of Sigmar, left by the wayside. We must remember, lest the forces most foul which beset the realms of men on all sides overcome us!

We shall be gathered, as well, for a reason second—to honor the memory of the late Grand Count Martin of Stirland, who was so cruelly taken from us with little warning not long ago. I knew him, and my father knew him well—my grandfather counted him as great friends when mine rode under him to fell the vile vampyre Mannfred von Carstein. All my life I knew Grand Count Martin to be a just and honorable lord, possessed of infinite zeal and valor and of a vim and vigor even in his old age that surpass'd but few men. He was a true hero of man and a worthy heir to Sigmar's legacy, and tis' my greatest regret that he shall not be with us here today to see the brotherhood he would celebrate without any doubt. And so I extend my welcome to the new Grand Countess and all the lords and knights of Stirland in particular, so that we together may toast his life and honor his memory with the unity of the faithful he instill'd.

And thus, I do invite thou to feast and fest with thine fellow sons of Sigmar upon the Fields of Striessen, where we shall honor the Sigmar and the lesser gods and our forefathers with our valor and martial talents. 'Tis the greatest and most dear hope of mine that on this day we noble warriors and lords under Sigmar's grace shall forever forswear petty conflict between ourselves, and vow instead to turn arms not against our brother but against the liche, the vampire, and the orke, against the heretic and the usurper and the knave, and to thusly see Sigmar's peace restor'd at least in word and spirit. I have spared no expense in this venture, my friends, and only the finest accommodations that <10 Capital> can purchase shall await you here today. Friends, let us spar and drink in the name of our savior Sigmar, and let us show all the foule things and treacherous villains that lurk among and beyond our lands that the Sons of Signar SHALL NEVER BE DEFEATED!
Hail Francis Ludwig Von Ellinbach

While I am greatly honored at your invitation and the place of honor offered me I am afraid that I am unable to personally attend your Tournament as my duties as the new elector countess do not permit much travel. However in my stead I will be sending my lead ambassador, Baron Wilhelm of Blutdorf, to partake in the festivities.


May Sigmar Bless your Tournament
Elector Countess Mathilde Van Hal
 
Six feet up, and several days later
Dust showered across the main room of the Baroness's lodge as she flung the massive tapestry off her shoulder and it unfurled to the floor. She spat a nail in to her fist as she struggled with the dead weight of moth-nibbled fabric, teetering off the back of a chair she'd wisely wedged up with...another chair.

"Would your ladyship like a hand?"

The chairs shuddered, and Theo gripped wildly at the soot-streaked beam. Her Master of the Hunt, once her father's as well, might walk with a stoop and a limp but damned if his step wasn't light as sun on autumn leaves.

"Pass me the blasted cup Leo and steady these things. I swear they're southern wood, spindly little shits."

The old man did so, and Baroness Hochland tossed the dregs aside where the dogs could have at them, and battered the nails home with a ferocious clatter. She pulled herself down the way to where the other corner would have to be affixed, Leopold shoving the chairs along beneath her feet until the deed was done without any further threat to the succession. Nimble as a hind she dropped down alongside the old retainer.

"So, jagermeister. What do we see."

Faded thread traced out rivers (some since diverted or dammed), towns, borders, all the many assets cataloged within Hochland and without. Nordland, Ostland, Hochland, the marches of Middenland, the whole of the North. It was an heirloom, one of a series some Hochen had commissioned as vanity pieces for when guests might want to see where they were in relation to where they'd come from, but the scale posed some small problems.

"Map ladyship. Big one."

Theo grabbed a letter stained with fine specks of red from the table and handed it to him. The baroness crossed her arms, staring up at the expanse of musty fabric with her domain at its center as Leo plowed through the flowery language. His brow knotted, his face darkening.

"Taal's nuts, the witchy little bitch has got steel in her spine," Theo grinned, grabbing the letter back. "Have the horses saddled, I heard wolves last night--and a letter for the Hergig post."



@EarthScorpion
Article:
Ostland,

Damn shame about yr family. The ones we love and all that. My hall is alway open to you and yrs and Nordland can come to. Haven't heard from her of late, but I mite have missed the letter. If you want to arrange details it would be appres good. Looks to be a good stock this year, and the hounds and horses in fine form. If only I had a golden-jawed beast to stalk, that'd be the day.

Gods keep you

Elector Countess Theophaneia Ysmay Gloriana Hochen, Grand Baroness of Hochland, Marshal of the Talabec Reach, Defender of the Shrines, Baroness of Hergig
 
@Dadarian

Hail o High Priest of Morr

I write to you this day with a request, we both know how the evil that shrouds Sylvania rouses the dead from their slumber and the wicked men who seek to chain them to their dark will. If this threat is to be ended great effort must be undertaken, as such I desire to further secure the Gardens of Morr within against Sylvania's darkness. Any aid you can give to this would have my eternal thanks.


May Morr's eyes be upon you.
Elector Countess Mathilde Van Hal


In Nomine Morr Scriptor
The gaze of Undeath is far too strong upon the razed lands of Sylvania. I, along with my humble court, will be relocating to your County to combat the menace until further notice. Together, we shall ensure all those who die shall remain in the Garden.

S.E




In Nomine Morr Scriptor

Your tidings are grim but expected, as the forces of undeath march ever forward in obstinate defiance to the correct order of the world. Whilst I and my court will be heading south to Stirland, I will ensure the Cult provides your late predecessor the guidance and protection of Morr in these ever trying times. Further, contacting Grandmaster Hermann of the Order of Ravens would provide much needed martial support in these trying times.

S.E
 

THE MOST HOLY MATRIARCH
Sermons of the Soul

The Triumph of Compassion
Dearly beloved Brothers and Sisters, we congregate today, as with all days, to commemorate the Ever-Loving for She births and maintains the vitality of life: compassion; love; and faith. Of these three elements, I focus upon compassion this day for I see from my eyes and hear from ears and understand from my soul the desperate need for it.

Ours is an imperfect world for we are imperfect creatures. We commit unspeakable acts of evil towards one another despite our universal blood. We create the suffering so hated by the Ever-Loving. And yet, no matter how far we forsake another or fall, our reunion and rise will be ever greater. That is the foremost message of the Livre des Larmes. As the Ever-Loving said to the Devoted One:


"Our tears of both sadness and joy are for the damned.
One for when they depart and the other for when they return."

See the emphasis on return. Man's natural soul is one of empathy and unity. The deviation towards violence, madness, and suffering are but the causation of temporary powers. Temporary powers that will fade away with time if not by the will of good people. Any of their victories over the heart of men are fated to fail alongside their pestilences and famines. Compassion is a mighty warrior who needs not the sword to triumph for her existence alone is the confirmation of victory.
[...]
 
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@Dadarian

Hail, Custode del Portale,

I, unlike my predecessor, am not much a man for words, or sentiment. That being said it gladdens me to hear of your coming to Stirland, we will be facing many dead who need to be put to rest, and the more of Morrs faithful there, the better. Perhaps some of my fellow orders may follow in your example, though I understand if they do not, the dead are everywhere, and they all need our ministrations. It will be good to see you once again, Custode del Portale Sieghard.


May Ravens alight upon you
Grandmaster Herman of the order of High and Chivalric Order of Deserved Rest
 
Nuln

Markgraf Hansel von Karkmann wiped his brow with a flax handkerchief, and tried to ignore the heat. His clothing was made for the North, Sigmar curse it; not this time of year in the south. And the fancy lords and ladies of the south called him out of fashion and conservative - and made remarks that he was wearing clothing that their grandfathers would have worn.

It hurt him. It really did. The things he did for the grand duchess. Maybe some day she'd notice him as more than a person who sometimes talked to her when she was focussed on those brutish dogs. Hansel was fond of a good hunting dog, but the grand duchess's bear hounds were... well. They were brutes, far too big and far too smart. He was sure the girl must have bred something else into them.

And he was just through brutal, wearisome negotiations with this stiff-backed, formal count who clearly looked like the sort of man who belonged in heavy armour. Anyone with shoulders that massive had clearly spent years in plate armour. And yet he was disgustingly educated. Hansel had heard that he had been a knight of a foreign god - not a proper, Sigmar-fearing soldier of the hammer, no, no - and gods only knew what he'd learned there.

"Now, heading back over the earlier clauses," said Friedrich von Schwarzburg, running a hand through his hair. "Now, if you would check codicil 32-c, this covers the break-clause arrangements on my end, including act of the gods, re-appearance of the twin-headed comet, invasion by orcs, goblins, ogres, dwarves, elves, beastmen, or any myriad other foes. In such a case, it is allowed for the authorities of Nuln to appropriate any currently-in-progress work on artillery for use in defence of the city. In such a situation, we have six months to set it right, or must return the fee."

"That is agreeable and within my remit," Hansel said, pouring over his own notes. "And as per my instructions from the grand duchess, in return for you keeping the price within offering range, you have my word on behalf of the grand duchess that we will return to you next year for additional purchases with the same agreed rate of margins."

"You drive a hard bargain, but you northerners are tight-fisted," Friedrich said, peering through his reading monocle. "You know, if you'd agreed to the mineral rights offer..."

"As I made clear, those rumours are unfortunately ungrounded in fact - we simply couldn't mislead you. We do hope to maintain good relationships with our southern cousins," Hansel said. Under the table, his other hand balled into a fist. This uppity baron talking about hard bargains. He was making a fortune from this, and it was only Hansel's hardest negotiations that had brought the cost down to something his duchess was willing to pay. Even then, he had needed to make certain promises that... well, better hope the crops came in this year.

Friedrich seemed to be getting as weary as him. "Might we call it for the day," he asked. "I have evening prayers to get to, and I think while we're nearly done, there are still enough to finish off that I don't want to be working late into the night."

The Ostlander was in full agreement there. "Then, my lord, I will see you tomorrow," he said, rising with a bow. "We can get this out of the way, and perhaps go drinking."

"Perhaps," the elector-count said, though there was clear doubt in his expression.



OOC: To @Maugan Ra: dramaticisation of negotiations with @SirLagginton. While names have been changed, the general spirit is, I feel, accurately conveyed :p
 
@Dadarian

Hail, Custode del Portale,

I, unlike my predecessor, am not much a man for words, or sentiment. That being said it gladdens me to hear of your coming to Stirland, we will be facing many dead who need to be put to rest, and the more of Morrs faithful there, the better. Perhaps some of my fellow orders may follow in your example, though I understand if they do not, the dead are everywhere, and they all need our ministrations. It will be good to see you once again, Custode del Portale Sieghard.


May Ravens alight upon you
Grandmaster Herman of the order of High and Chivalric Order of Deserved Rest


In Nomine Morr Scriptor

Grandmaster, your words are some of the few comforts I receive on these days of endless dusk. We will welcome all brothers to conduct their duty in the endless hills and forests of Stirland. However I hear dread tidings from Middenland, where the Count requires men dedicated to Morr to protect those late Counts as they're put to rest. In this fight, I have no doubt the weight of a Count's opinion weighs more than a half dozen gardens, but thus is the reality of the Imperial Court. It is the decision of you and yours to take their offer.

S.E
 
Wurtbad
Only in Stirland, in the shadow of Drakenhof, would a town be so bloody lit up at night. In any other reasonable settlement, that wasn't Altdorf with its fancy street lamps, after dark most of the side streets and alley ways would be pitch black, the perfect place for some lurking. Not in fucking Wurtbad though. There were candles and torches all over the shop, making some areas of the city look as bright as day. The smoke was choking and cloying, sticking into Frederika's clothing as she climbed down into the sewers. With the streets being a bad place for a nice spot of brooding, a favorite activity for the most poetic thief, it was the underways and abandoned buildings of the city that provided the privacy one in Fredrika's profession might prefer.

Thankfully Wurtbad was built on the ruins of all the Wurtbad's before. The constant flooding of the stilt ridden Stir caused the city to continually have to be moved further and further up. Houses, stores and any other kind of building one would normally find in a major metropole was located underneath the city. If you had the sufficient will, and a sturdy sledge and pick, holes could be knocked in walls and tunnels carved through the wet earth. Generations of sewer jacks, thieves, cultists, vagrants and other undesirables of society had created a web of tunnels underneath the city, a web that Frederika firmly wished to be wrapped firmly up in the cross of Ranald.

She pushed through a long rotten door into the bottom room of a sunken tavern, the place where her merry little band of the pious was making camp in. Johann and Hans were lounging against the bar, aruging over whose latest score had been more impressive. In Frederika's opinion Hans stealing a gold ring from a Altdorf merchants manor had been well done in its execution but Johann's burgling of a pure breed Brettonian steed from its Questing Knight owner was inspired. Schmidt, her right hand man, gave her a weary look as she entered, likely already having been bugged by Anna about some minor little thing.

"Moot not going well?" She asked, knowing full well the answer.

Schmidt spat. "Fucking halflings are being obstinate. Keep on digging too deep into my cover stories. They won't sink the project, but buying up the land is gonna take time."

Frederika pursed her lips as she leaned over the table, eyeing the map of Wurtbad with a critical eye. "Keep on at it, my talks with the Elder have been going well, she hopefully by next winter resistance will have cleared up. What about the safehouse?"

Anna, who had been busy breaking up Johann and Hans from almost starting a fist fight, turned and gave Frederika a bright smile. "We've managed to find a place where we can break down a bunch of walls and do some excavation work without too much trouble. Stables will be a problem but its near enough to the forest that I think we can get away with either a long passage out into the trees or an elevator. Poor buggers aren't gonna like being underground though."

"They knew what they were getting into when they got bought by Ranaldites." Frederika sunk into a chair, one of the many, many cats in the room quickly hopping up into her lap. As idly pet it as she thought. "Its a good start. Lots of setup for further groundwork. I know I'm asking a lot of you, and the rest of the Cult. We're used to instant gratifaction, the thrill of the roll or the heist. But remember, Ranald got his godhood through the long con. We aren't nearly as lucky as the bastard, so our con will have to be even longer."

There was a general crossing of fingers and nodding of heads in the tavern before she spoke again. "But trust me, the score from all this will be bigger than any before. We'll make the high lords, the bishops and priests, the poncy bastards who look down at us fucking take notice. They'll give us our due, and the due thats owed to every single miserable sod slaving away just to buy a bowel of slop. Trust me. Everyone will get their fucking due."
 
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In Nomine Morr Scriptor

Grandmaster, your words are some of the few comforts I receive on these days of endless dusk. We will welcome all brothers to conduct their duty in the endless hills and forests of Stirland. However I hear dread tidings from Middenland, where the Count requires men dedicated to Morr to protect those late Counts as they're put to rest. In this fight, I have no doubt the weight of a Count's opinion weighs more than a half dozen gardens, but thus is the reality of the Imperial Court. It is the decision of you and yours to take their offer.
S.E
Hail, Custode del Portale,

Middenland? It is far indeed for me to send men during a marshaling against the unquiet dead, but such a force will still take time to gather. I thank you for bringing this to my attention Custode del Portale. I will offer what men I can spare, so that the dead may be guarded on their journey to Morrs garden.


May Ravens alight upon you
Grandmaster Herman of the order of High and Chivalric Order of Deserved Rest

@Deadly Snark

Hail, Konrad Von Schild, Regent of Middenland

The Custode del Portale has brought to my attention your request for Morrs templar's, and while I am preparing for a campaign against the unquiet dead of Sylvannia I do not forgot that my duties are not to a single place, but all the dead. As such I am willing to send some of my men to protect the late count's of Middenland as they are put to rest.


May your death be easy, when it comes
Grandmaster Herman of the order of High and Chivalric Order of Deserved Rest
 
(OOC: Deleted and reposted this since I just realized I didn't actually tag @Dovahsith lol)

To: Grand Theologist Wenzel
Holy Father,

Doubtlessly, a son of Averland such as yourself remembers just as well as I the great deeds of the late Grand Count Martin of Stirland, who in the darkest hour of our lands, when we faced the foule threat of the vampyre lord Mannfred von Carstein, stood fast and lead our great host to drive that wickedness from the realms of men. It is my dearest wish to honor the legacy of this august man, who was a great friend of my father and my father's father. Thusly I write to you, Holy Father, to plead that this hero by Sigmar's grace be granted the recognition that he deserves, and have bestowed upon him the title of a Venerated Soul of Sigmar for his unshakeable faith and valor on the field of battle. If that should be done, I further wish to consecrate a grand new cathedral to him in the city of Striessen, and hope that Your Holiness may see it fit to dispatch an archlector to oversee and bless the ceremony of breaking ground for this temple, during the Tourney at the Fields of Striessen at the end of this year.

May the light of Sigmar shine upon us, and may his grace bless the affairs of the righteous and the faithful,
His Highness Francis Ludwig von Ellinbach, By the Grace of Sigmar, Grand Count of Averland
 
(OOC: Deleted and reposted this since I just realized I didn't actually tag @Dovahsith lol)

To: Grand Theologist Wenzel
I have heard it said that the only way true victory might be achieved by evil, is for good to do nothing. Whether by cowardness, treachery, greed, stupidity or simple fear for what could be lost, such actions have almost damned us all, time and time again.

Yet despite this all too human failing, there is a spark of the divine that might be found. A ember that can burn as bright as the Twin Tailed comet when brave men stand their ground against such impossible odds, for the defense of mankind.

In honor of Count Martin and all those who fought against the eternal midnight so that Dawn might rise anew, I agree to your request. Let Martin of Stirland be known in the eyes of the Faithfull as a Venerated Soul of Sigmar and a guide to those who bring light to dark places with courage in their hearts and steel in their hands.

Signed
Wenzel Kraft
Grand Theogonist of Sigmar
 
@Carol

Ser Frederika Goldwasser, by the will of Sigmar, Grandmaster of the Knights of Sigmar's Blood, to High Priestess Joan of Nuln, the Most Holy Matriach of the Cult of Shallya, the Beloved.

Though, we know that you are uneasy about the state of the Provinces as they are and the Lords, the Elector-Counts' ambitions, and that you are interested in the general welfare of the people; the fate of many relatives and friends; who are fighting for Sigmar under the orders of their lieges, therefore, we think we ought to give you exact information as to the events of which a report has doubtless already reached you.

We will set forth from our chapter house, Heldenhame Keep, on the sixth day of the month of Nachexen and arrive safely at Stirland, intending to rebuild a castle of time past near Leicheberg with proper strength, that afterwards, the approach to the Haunted Hills might be not only easier but also shorter and safer for us as well as for all the faithful of Sigmar and Shallya. Our confidence goes to the many who were willing to support us in this venture and we wish to request you do the same.

We, once were, attended to by one of your faithful at one of your blessed temples. One cannot help but admire the skill of Shallya's faithful and their dexterous hands. We would like to witness such praiseworthy feats beyond just the battlefield again, this time by our side, bringing much reassurance to the hearts of my men. Our Great Lord Sigmar protects and glorifies Mankind, but Her Holy Ladyship Shallya sees to the broken, the injured and ensures peace. As such, not to keep you waiting on our request, we would be more than willing to have a Temple of Shallya raised within the premises of Heldenhame Keep, our chapter house and in the upcoming Lustenstadt Fort, our second chapter house within Stirland. We will see to the safety of the Shallyan priestesses to the utmost of our capabilities and encourage her most well-deserved worship.

And I will be at all seasons ready to perform in this matter and all others at your pleasure, with Shallya's grace and Sigmar's will, whom I beseech to send you the accomplishment of your most worshipful desires, my own fair lady, for I will no further labour you of our tales of ambition and slaughter of the undying.

Written and sealed by Ser Frederika Goldwasser, current Grandmaster of the Knights of Sigmar's Blood.
 
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Barret the Blessed

As the sun crested over the horizon, Barret leaned back against the tree he had spent the night sleeping in. It was as beautiful as always, here in the deep woods of the Altern Forest. It was a sight had seen many times, yet still he never tired of it. To his eyes, the sight of the swirling currents of the Wyrd never ceased to paint even the gloomiest of days with a world of color, indescribable, yet beautiful all the same. And it always saddened his heart that so many others could no longer see such a sight.

Barret stood from the nook he'd settled himself into, brushed off his robes, and hopped down from the tree in a move few could imagine an old man pulling off without injury. It is a shame still, but duty calls. He could feel it in his bones, a change was coming soon. He, nor anyone else, knew what exactly it held, and whether or not the coming tides would carry them forward, or drown them beneath it's waves.

All he could do was help his fellows, however he could. To that end, his travels had taken him to Stirland, a land of hidden beauty, sadly buried beneath the stench of the undead. It was a land that had suffered much, yet recent events have at least rendered a measure of aid that the land has long since sorely needed. It burned that Barret and his fellows could not act here, where the living were so often preyed upon by the dead, and where the arts of his kind may yet make a difference. But sadly, the winds blew other ways.

For now, he could only hope that man may still aid other man, even against the tide of the dead.

For now, work called forth. Letter delivery might seem a demeaning task, yet it was one that Barret had an odd fondness for. Perhaps that was what got him into this mess in the first place. Yet now, he was betting that it would get him out. Life truly goes around in circles, and he'd been walking in circles longer than most.

And so an old man walked into the depths of the forest, seeming vanish into the branches of the woods.

(@comradepitrovsky , @mcclay , check your PM's please.)
 
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THE MOST HOLY MATRIARCH
Letters to the Outside

To H.E. Frederika Goldwasser,
Grandmaster of the Knights of Sigmar's Blood

Rejoice, blessed child of Sigmar, for I have read your correspondence and have found much to agree upon. I am overjoyed to hear of the high regard the Knights of Sigmar's Blood have of my humble congregation. In turn, I confess that tales of your order's valorous conduct, as men and women of honor, have reached my ears and have touched my heart through your chosen occupation still pains me. Furthermore, know that the Ever Loving would never turn aside those who require Her assistance and so we follow in Her example. My dearly beloved brothers and sisters will come and establish the temples as requested. I pray for your success in the Haunted Hills so that both the living and unliving there may find eternal peace.

IN GOOD FAITH,
M.H.M. JOAN
 

Ehre Für Myrmidia
Hildrun poured over various doctrinal texts and theological treatises searching for an answer to what seemed like such a simple question, which came to her from one of the various smaller temples scattered about Wissenland. They had written to her firstly as she was the Eagle of the North and so their direct senior in terms of the hierarchy in the Temple, but secondly she knew all too well because they did not wish to send the question down South to either Tilea or Estalia in search of clarification. Which, as Hildrun sighed pulling another dusty discourse on religious theory, made all too much sense. Unfortunately the Tilean and Estalian branches, long-established as they were, were constantly at each others throats, figuratively and sometimes literally, and as often as not seemed to contradict the other's doctrine for the pure prideful spite of it, and so increasingly the smaller, but less divided Northern temples looked inward for enlightenment on Myrmidia's teachings.

And so Hildrun sought to answer a question which on the face of it seemed barely a question at all, but which she had found very little in any of her sources to help her reach a conclusion of her own. The question, posed more as a hypothetical than a practical dilemma, was thus: The teachings of Myrmidia were that you should not kill an enemy who has surrendered, and to respect prisoners of war. It also commanded that one show no mercy to the unrepentant enemies of humanity. So, if an enemy of humanity actually did surrender, what should an Honorable Myrmidian do?

Hildrun was not sure. It was a question she had never encountered either in the teachings or in her own experience. She had had many enemies who surrendered and had fought many unrepentant enemies of humanity, but for precisely the reason they were such, the latter never numbered among the former. No greenskin, beastkin, follower of Chaos or walking corpse (or even, a talking corpse) had ever laid down their arms and sought surrender. Well, a few of the corpses had lost their arms before a blow was struck, but she was quite sure it had never been intentional. They hadn't stopped trying to kill her or her men, at least.

On the one hand, it would seem obvious to some. The command was to never show mercy to an unrepentant enemy of humankind, and surely the protection of mankind outweighed the other strictures. On the other hand, the commands to respect prisoners and accept surrender were as much about Honor, possibly moreso, than about mercy. And if even such a creature as these laid down their weapons and sought succor, could they truly be counted as unrepentant, in the first place? It was a vexing question in its deceptive complexity, made all the more so that few, if any scholars of the faith had given it any thought, and then it was generally as an unresolved musing rather than anything like a substantial treatment.

Finally, after more research and some deep consideration, Hildrun had been decided. Putting aside her texts, she drew forth her inkwell, seals, and parchment and began to write her own official ruling on the matter, to be added to the archives there at the Temple of Nuln, and would be disseminated into the broader tenets in the northern branch of the Temple, as well as a copy sent direct to the priest who had inquired on the subject, for his consideration and perusal.

It was, she had decided, within the considerations of honor, wholly appropriate to accept the surrender and treat with what respect might be due any prisoner of the enemies of mankind as might offer such, and treat them as one would treat them with all due caution. For, the matter of accepting surrender and well-treating ones enemies was a matter of personal honor, as much as bestowed mercy, and any who surrender are offering at least the pretense of consideration of ones actions, and the due judgment thereof. Satisfied for now, she had it taken to be so copied and transcribed into the works of the Temple, secure in the knowledge that it, should her commentary on the matter ever truly need to be consulted except in future research of theoreticalities, it would be the first time in her, and as near as she could tell the Temple's, experience.

That interesting and exasperating bit of scholarship no longer occupying the foremost place in her mind, Hildrun turned to more practical concerns. Which, right now, included reaching out to and refreshing some of her associations.

---------------------

Honorable Großmeister Erbsenzähler, @Skrevski

It has been too long since we exchanged correspondence. As always I know you work to bring honor to Myrmidia and peace to the Empire's people. Although we of course work closely together, I feel there is room for more substantial coordination on some endeavors that will serve both those goals and work to the benefit of Myrmidia and her faithful. At time of writing the Temple itself has no urgent or pending initiatives in need of such, but please inform me if there is aid we might provide to further the work of the Blazing Suns.

Nordadler Hildrun Steinhauer, Eagle of the North

---------------------

Großgraf von Wissenland, Friedrich von Schwarzburg @SirLagginton

Highness, I know you look to the best interests of the people of Wissenland and you honor the Bellona Myrmidia. As a fellow Wissenlander of the faith, I feel it is in the good interests of both that the Temple provide what assistance and support it can to the County and it's Grand Count, to show that Myrmidia and her followers can be counted on to serve the people as capably as any of the gods, and hopefully ease such concerns as have arisen from those more skeptical of the Goddess. Please, do not hesitate to inform me should there be a service the Temple of Myrmidia can render in aid to you or to the County.

Wisdom, and Honor

Hildrun Steinhauer, Red Lion of Wissenland
 
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@Lord_Asmodeus
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High Priestess Hildrun Steinhauer

To be offered aid by one so exalted by the Bellona Myrmidia is in of itself an honour. Rest assured that I agree wholeheartedly with the goal to have all gods-fearing men and women to recognise the Goddess as the defender of civilisation and am much gladdened for the aid of the cult. There is actually one matter I wished for your assistance in by happenstance. A delegation of Tilean personages shall be making their way to Nuln soon, and I have little doubt that they will wish to eventually visit our grand temple here. I only ask that if they seek assistance in matters of spiritual import that your order shall be there to provide it. I regret to inform you of the possibility however that the Sigmarite faithful may be disconcerted by the arrival of the Tileans, and therefore I advise it would be prudent to be especially cautious while the delegation is present. I look forward to further correspondence.

The gods smile upon thee, and Myrmidia shield thee from the darkness.

Grand Count Friedrich von Schwarzburg, Elector Count of Wissenland, Baron of Nuln, Warden of Echoes
 
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Knights of the White Wolf
"Cheeky little buggers, aren't they?"

Grand Master Adolf von Jager of the Knights of the White Wolf set down the missive that was evidently going around the more southern Counties. Some talk about a big and grand tournament for the glory of man and the might of Sigmar and all of that rubbish and sundry. Pageantry and folly it was, to exhaust such coin and treasure on counting coup and making a great scene of it.

The enemies of humanity wouldn't care about how strong and how tough your best were, they cared about how much damage they could do before something managed to sink its teeth into their throat. A terrible waste when the enemy was at the gates and within the frontier.

There was work to be done yet--the Ar-Ulric and Regent Konrad had some decent ideas going around and could use some extra manpower to anchor it. He could pick up some of his more gregarious boys to support the homesteading efforts--there was plenty of room to expand in the woods after all, as long as someone was crushing the damned greenskins and beastmen who spawn within them.

But there was always a need for more knights, and more fighters to support those knights in battle. Fortunately, he could take down two birds with one rock if he played his hands right.

"Specht was recently bellyaching about the warherds fucking around on the frontier if I'm not mistaken?" He asked, his scribe looking through the records and mumbling a few lines of agreement. "Good to know, he's in charge of supporting Regent Konrad's push that way. The rest of us are going to do work securing and anchoring the Ar-Ulric's homesteading project--Ulric knows we could use the extra territory sooner rather than later. See if we can peel off some diamonds while we're at it for ourselves, I'll never say no to a chance for more knights."

Should be as good a start as any, let Sigmar's boys down south have fun with their games--as always, the Wolf God's kin will get the real work done.
 
Honorable Großmeister Erbsenzähler, @Skrevski

It has been too long since we exchanged correspondence. As always I know you work to bring honor to Myrmidia and peace to the Empire's people. Although we of course work closely together, I feel there is room for more substantial coordination on some endeavors that will serve both those goals and work to the benefit of Myrmidia and her faithful. At time of writing the Temple itself has no urgent or pending initiatives in need of such, but please inform me if there is aid we might provide to further the work of the Blazing Suns.

Nordadler Hildrun Steinhauer, Eagle of the North


Greetings and salutations to you my friend. Indeed it has been long since we have seen correspondence and are glad you have chosen to write. We are heartened to work together to see more coordination between the Blazing Sun and yourself and see that Myrmidia continues to shine above. While we currently are only engaged in minor activities ourselves we hope in the future to see movement that will see our cause and Order on the rise.

Signed,

Ser Adalius Humfried Erbsenzähler, Grandmaster of the Order of the Blazing Sun​
 


Hail Elector-Count and Chancellor Frederick von Schaffernorscht ,

As Verena is my witness ,
I am notifying you of the establishment of the chapterhouse of our Order in the League of Ostermark , in the town of Essen to be more accurate.
Should yourself or any of your subjects be in need of selfless defenders or of Justice arbitrated , know that the Templars of Verena will be at your disposition.


Grandmaster Horst Kleiner of the Order of the Knights of the Everlasting Light

The League of Ostermark appreciates the efforts undertaken by your Order and your eternal quest for the ideals of Justice and fairness. Know that you shall always have a place in our lands.

Chancellor Frederick von Schaffernorscht, Elected Count of the League of Ostermark

Count Luciano Malasangre @Wade Garrett

It has been a pleasure to host your son, Alessio, in Bechafen. Your heir as conducted himself as well as one could expect and has made quite an impression with one of my own sons, Heinrich. Let's us hope this is but a start to further good relations between our respective lands. For the security and stability of Sylvania is something that we all aspire to.

On my part, I have already sent orders to prepare the convoys and gather the material. Your son has assured me that you shall have a proper escort ready to take over the goods once my men reach the border, but if that's not the case, please do not hesitate to inform us. It would do no one any good if the caravans were to be waylaid.

Chancellor Frederick von Schaffernorscht, Elected Count of the League of Ostermark
 
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@Mina
Article:
Dear Lady Hochland,

I'll admit I do not know you as well as I would like to, but my friend Astrid has spoken well of you during the time I have known her, and I would like to take the time to get to know you better. To, as my Chancellor so often puts it, "foster good relations and good tidings".

I am throwing a celebration in Salzenmund, since I know full well that it is how my dearly departed Uncle would have want to be remembered, and in the name of hopefully appease my Chancellors rapacious demands for more diplomacy and also in the spirit of getting to know you better then off-hand remarks from our mutual friend I would like to invite you.

Whatever else, I can promise there will be plenty of stout drink and entertainment to be had.

May the Gods be Good and may Ulric grant you strength.

Signed,

Baroness Jana von Moltke, Elector Count of Nordland
 
Well met Count

As you might be aware with the death of my predecessor I have been made the Elector Count of Stirland. As such it is my aim to purge Sylvania from the taint that has infected it since the vampire wars, as such I will soon launch an effort to expand and fortify the Gardens of Morr within the region. I expect you to aid in this endeavor with what resources you can spar.


May Sigmar's Light be upon you.
Elector Countess Mathilde Van Hal


As your Highness commands, all that we can spare shall be rendered over to Father Morr. And I shall eagerly await word of your exploits in the campaign to come.

Myrmidia favor your steel.

Count Luciano Malasangre


THUS IS DECREED BY HIS GRAND HIGHNESS FRANCIS LUDWIG VON ELLINBACH, GRAND COUNT OF AVERLAND, TO ALL THE KNIGHTS AND LORDS OF SIGMAR'S FAITH

Noble sons of Sigmar's blood! Twas one hundred years ago that my grandfathers Sir Siegfried of Stirland and Friedrich Henry von Ellinsbach, Grand Count of Averland rode in battle with the pact of dwarfs and men against the vile vampire king KONRAD VON CARSTEIN. With the blessings of Sigmar we did destroye his foule vampyre armies, and with Sigmar's grace his plot to enthrone his undead puppet Grand Count Helmut was reveal'd to us and driven out! In this year of Sigmar two thousand and two hundred, I do honor my forefathers with a grand tournament at the Plains of Striessen, so that our ancestors may look upon our arms from Morr's realm and know that these lands and children of theirs who they so labor'd to guard remain protect'd in the safe hands of our brave and noble knights of Sigmar!

For't has been fifty years and more since the swords of men were last raised against the the hosts of the foule living dead, and more still since the last ravages of the greenskins hath travers'd our lands! Our greatest foes may soon forget that in times of strife, all we men shall fight with Sigmar's grace to vanquish those vile things that walk his sacred lands, and shall do so by the valor and the force of arms with which our Holy Sigmar hath bless'd us! But we, brothers, musn't ever forget! For all thou art my brothers on the field of battle that may come, in the next day when the undead or the greenskins or the heretic or slaves of darkness should trouble our lands, and in the next, and the next, and the next! So soon in our petty quarrels is sacred duty which bindes us together, we sons of Sigmar, left by the wayside. We must remember, lest the forces most foul which beset the realms of men on all sides overcome us!

We shall be gathered, as well, for a reason second—to honor the memory of the late Grand Count Martin of Stirland, who was so cruelly taken from us with little warning not long ago. I knew him, and my father knew him well—my grandfather counted him as great friends when mine rode under him to fell the vile vampyre Mannfred von Carstein. All my life I knew Grand Count Martin to be a just and honorable lord, possessed of infinite zeal and valor and of a vim and vigor even in his old age that surpass'd but few men. He was a true hero of man and a worthy heir to Sigmar's legacy, and tis' my greatest regret that he shall not be with us here today to see the brotherhood he would celebrate without any doubt. And so I extend my welcome to the new Grand Countess and all the lords and knights of Stirland in particular, so that we together may toast his life and honor his memory with the unity of the faithful he instill'd.

And thus, I do invite thou to feast and fest with thine fellow sons of Sigmar upon the Fields of Striessen, where we shall honor the Sigmar and the lesser gods and our forefathers with our valor and martial talents. 'Tis the greatest and most dear hope of mine that on this day we noble warriors and lords under Sigmar's grace shall forever forswear petty conflict between ourselves, and vow instead to turn arms not against our brother but against the liche, the vampire, and the orke, against the heretic and the usurper and the knave, and to thusly see Sigmar's peace restor'd at least in word and spirit. I have spared no expense in this venture, my friends, and only the finest accommodations that <10 Capital> can purchase shall await you here today. Friends, let us spar and drink in the name of our savior Sigmar, and let us show all the foule things and treacherous villains that lurk among and beyond our lands that the Sons of Signar SHALL NEVER BE DEFEATED!

Your Highness,

It gladdens my heart to hear that Count von Kristallbach shall be honoured so. My family owes him a great debt, as for without the efforts of noble warriors like the late Count and your grandfather we would never have been able to reclaim our estate from from the Von Carnstein usurpers, long may they rot in the graves they cheated.

It is with a heavy heart that I must decline your offer, despite the love I bore Count Martin and the respect I bear to your family. You see, I swore before Father Morr's altar in Waldenhof on this Hexensnacht I and my wife would personally lay alms upon that very same altar, and to journey from Sylvania to Striessen and back before Hexensnacht is upon us, it cannot be done. And a vow before the Shrouded One's altar, that is not something one....

But let us speak of happier matters. My sons Alessio and Thiago have made no such oaths, and they will gladly stand for Malasangre at your celebration. I wish you fair weather and fair fortune for the occasion.

LUCIANO MALASANGRE, COUNT OF SYLVANIA AND LORD OF DRAKENHOPF

Count Luciano Malasangre

It has been a pleasure to host your son, Alessio, in Bechafen. Your heir as conducted himself as well as one could expect and has made quite an impression with one of my own sons, Heinrich. Let's us hope this is but a start to further good relations between our respective lands. For the security and stability of Sylvania is something that we all aspire to.

On my part, I have already sent orders to prepare the convoys and gather the material. Your son has assured me that you shall have a proper escort ready to take over the goods once my men reach the border, but if that's not the case, please do not hesitate to inform us. It would do no one any good if the caravans were to be waylaid.

Chancellor Frederick von Schaffernorscht, Elected Count of the League of Ostermark

From your lips to the Gods' ears, Lord Chancellor. I am pleased to hear that my son has presented well, and I have taken appropriate measures to uphold my part of our accord.

I shall await receive the shipments on the banks of the Stir myself, and I pray that our arrangements are merely the first step in the restoration of the ancient friendship between Ostermark and Sylvania

Count Luciano Malasangre, Lord of Drakenhopf
 
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Der Herr und Die Hexe
Act Two -- Prelude

Dramatis Personae:

FRANCIS LUDWIG
FATHER SIGISMUND (A priest of Sigmar. Court chaplain of Francis Ludwig)

(The curtain rises.)
(The nave of the palace church of Schloss Ellinsbach. In the background, a stained glass painting of Sigmar's striking down Nagash stares down. The room is dark save for an dim oil lamp lit by the left pews. Under it, Francis Ludwig sits, holding open but not reading a book of prayer. He is in contemplation, and appears to be apprehensive. Sigismund enters and, surprised, bows to his liege.)


SIGISMUND:
Your highness, I beg thy forgiveness,
I expected thou not at this hour.
Come, sire, the dark suits not thy august presense,

(Sigismund starts to light the candles. Francis Ludwig stops him as he begins)

FRANCIS LUDWIG:
(In poor spirits)
No, father, thy troubl'st thouself overmuch.
'tis better little light shine on my eyes,
for no sight ought see throught them my soul,
and thine own least of all.
Behold me not!
For not but blackest tar dwells in mine hart.
Among sinners alone I am high.
'tis I, not thee, who must for pardon beg,
for 'tis this house of yours I have sullied,
and 'tis Sigmar himself I offend.

SIGISMUND:
Thou art merely of troubled hart, sire,
of tar and damned souls, I see none.
What truly troubl'st thou, Your Highness,
that at this hour you have come?

FRANCIS LUDWIG:
What trouble could my hart darken,
but this great sin I have wrought?
Of honor and truth I to Sigmar swore,
and yet in my soul hold the opposite.

SIGISMUND:
(With a laugh)
Ah, your highness! 'tis but this matter again!
My imprudence you must forgive, for to hear it
is not trouble, but great relief!
'twas moments ago I had feared,
for some sin thou hast committed.
But of this, 'tis none and less!

FRANCIS LUDWIG:
I know thou mean'st well, father
But 'tis no need to deceive.
This deed of mine was sin indeed,
nurtur'd not in Sigmar's light,
but chaos' busom most foule.
For lords and men I have deceived,
and greed and treachery have I courted.
To speak of plot as honor,
Of lies as welcome,
These are that which I have verily done.

SIGISMUND:
Your highness, thou simply dost doubt now,
at this last eve and hour,
in what thou sayest, there is no lie
in what thou doest, there is no plot.
In deceit lies sin aplenty,
but to fool a witch is no deceit.
'twas Sigmar who struck Nagash with hate
'twas Wilhelm Blessed who stole the ring of Carstein,
and yet though hate and theft are sins quite great,
'twas no sin in these.
To strike a beast 'tis no wroth
to covet piety no envy.
Thou plotest not for thine own,
but for all our flock,
who from the witche have much to fear.
In this, tis no sin, but virtue.

FRANCIS LUDWIG:
And yet though mine plot thou mayest absolve,
Behind lies naught but yet sin more.
For 'tis not plot alone I have wrought,
but the darkest of blasphemies.
Blessed Martin damn me,
for 'tis his name I have sullied
and his faithful I deceived.
For my greed have I took a blessed in vain,
and asked declared in all the Altdorf annals,
this avarice of mine.

SIGISMUND:
'twas not thy tongue which blessed Count Martin,
but those deeds his own, and quite so many.
Of these, you spoke only of that which was done.
And 'tis not you who makes a Blessed, sire,
and in His Holiness' wisdom lies little to doubt.
Of your deeds, Your Highness, fear not,
for 'twas for fighting the witche that Count Martin was blessed,
and by leading men that he did triumph.
Thy deeds do him no shame,
but honor more than all,
for thou honorest his legacy,
by concluding his work.
Had he still sight,
and could see all those you have assembled,
though his name, against the witche,
it would be his greatest pride.

FRANCIS LUDWIG:
And yet!
Though all these may ring true!
'tis still not for mine honor or mine faith,
that these deeds I had done,
but for greed and for pride and for sin.
'tis wealth that I covet,
for gain that I act,
and in this, a sinner I am above all.

SIGISMUND:
My lord!
Could but you hear yourself now,
and though the last days hence,
thou wouldst sayest not such foolish things.
For though thou believest this,
'twas I who looked upon thou all these days,
and 'tis I who sayest now that of these desires,
I saw none.
In thou fear for thine soul,
thou hath shown already quite enough,
the truth of thy intentions.
For would not any usurper,
care little for such matters as these?
Did the witch care,
when Martin she had slain,
thrones she had usurped?
No, thou art not them, and them art not thou.
And thou, sire, doest not the work of sin
but the work of Sigmar.

FRANCIS LUDWIG:
Yes... yes, of this now I see.
Father, I thank thee greatly.
For thou hath shown me the truth from lies,
and cast away this dreadful inhibition.
I see now, verily, that this worry of mine
'tis little but craven fear,
and these doubts of mine were not of faith,
but of shirk, from this sacred duty mine.
For 'tis a WITCHE who hath been enthroned,
against whom We make Our plot,
and who hath usurped, and lied, and killed,
and brought all the lands to disorder.
And Francis Ludwig does now swear,
that no pain nor foe shall halt my quest,
and no doubts shall e'remore beset me,
in this blessed mission of mine.
And no longer shall this Empire ours,
be brought low by chaos and disorder,
and our lands and children menaced
by such villains as vile as these.
Yes, Our path is clear now,
and no cowardiance We'll entertain.
The torch is lit, the calls sounded,
and Our venture set afoot!
We shall gather all the lords and knights,
and lead them just as those before me,
and on this path of Blessed Martin we shall march
to destiny's awaiting triumph!
 
Turn One - The Avaricious Schism
The Avaricious Schism
(Written by @EarthScorpion with my approval)

"It is widely agreed by reputable scholars that, although the rupture in the Cult of Shallya widely known as the Avaricious Schism seemingly came out of nowhere, in retrospect the roots had been laid long ago. The Shallyan faith had never had much internal organisation, and as a result when a radical faction came to power in Altdorf, centred around Nuln, they initiated a radical shift in Shallyan doctrine.

"This faction, known as the Joanite Tendency after their leader, Joan of Nuln, was a product of the wealth of Nuln in the late twenty second century. The influence of merchant houses, combined with the stability and fortune of the city, had led to a developed financial system with heavy use of usurious loans. Proto-Joanite factions of the Shallyans had already begun 'gifting' the poorest with funds to help them escape the most ruinous of the loans - and though it was unspoken, the expectation was that once the individual in question was no longer in financial peril, they would make a donation equal to the among given, plus a little extra out of thanks.

"However, this was culturally unique to the Nuln branch of the Shallyans, and had no wider traction in the greater lands of the Empire. As a result, when Matriarch Joan of Nuln publicly joined with the Reiklander merchant house Meyer to create a system of so-called 'credit unions', the backlash among the greater body of Shallyans was rapid.

"Simply, the majority of the Cult overtly rejected the authority of Nuln. Offering loans to their patients and families? Encouraging the deliberate pursuit of wealth - and worse, to encourage people to praise kind-hearted Shallya for such avariciousness? The shunning of the traditional Shallyan duty to minister to all? Clearly the Joanites had lost their way, corrupted by the wealth and temptations of the rich southern cities.

"The rejection of Joan of Nuln's actions were not purely religious, however. With the state of the Empire in the early 23rd century, such an unprecedented breach with Shallyan doctrine at the seeming prompting of a Reiklander merchant house was completely unacceptable to Reikland's many rivals.

"Matters were further complicated when words of the actions of the Imperials reached the chief temple of the Order of the Bleeding Heart in Couronne. The Order of the Bleeding Heart had always controlled the vast majority of the temples and hospices in the greater Cult of Shallya, and the Brettonian inclinations of the Bleeding Heart saw such willing collaboration by the Joanites as a sign that they had lost their way. Many messengers from Couronne made their way east, and their words were firm - the Bleeding Heart would not, could not, and would never condone such blatant greed. Matriarch Guiselle's Grand Condemnation Of The Wickedness Of Usury, translated into Reikspiel, was a bright light turned against the Joanites. Her personal letter to Joan was simple - cease this usury, and return to Shallya's mercy.

"However, Joan of Nuln was not without allies. The Joanite tendency was strongest in Wissenland, Averland, Western Stirland and Eastern Reikland - and also found some support in Tilea. There, the proto-Joanites had spread sympathetic priestesses to many temples and they were less affected by anti-Wissenland and anti-Reikland sentiments. Indeed, as represented by the well-known Richeza Meyer, many merchants from various houses came to back the increasingly isolated southern Cult. They spoke about helping the poor help themselves, the need for personal responsibility, and how the peasantry and urban destitute simply had to learn to work for a living. Notably, while this scandal saw contributions to the overall Cult fall within the Empire, around Nuln the prosperous bourgeoise increasingly gave more to the Cult and pushed for a more rapid expansion of the 'credit union' plans.

"By the end of 2200, the Imperial Cult of Shallya was in full-scale schism. The Joanite south-eastern Cult was effectively ruptured from the greater body of the faith, and had been publicly denounced by the Grand Temple in Talabheim which increasingly took the role that had previously been assumed by Nuln and Altdorf. And with the catastrophe in Sylvania and the growing tensions in the Empire, it was a dark beginning to the twenty-third century."

Christoff Sauer, "The Crisis of the Early Twenty Third Century"

Common View

"Shallyans expectin' you to give 'em back their charity? 'Taint natural, that's what I'm tellin' you. I can't afford to do that!"

Ingrid Valeria, Shopgirl

"I don't care what any Nulnite tells me. I'll never help my people get in debt. I bought most of them into this world and I know them. I won't ever be part of helping them beggar themselves. And any fancy temple priestess who tells me otherwise can go stick her head in a latrine."

Magdalene Voight, Midwife and Initiate of Shallya

"Did you hear about the Shallyan from the east? She would rather birth profits than prophets!"

Marcelle of Couronne, Jester

The Elite

"Praise Shallya and her generosity! It is only the actions of the Brettonians which have held us back before. They would keep our peasants as impecunious as their own serfs! I believe in this, Elise, and I think you should too. This year, I would recommend that you turn your donations to helping the worthy Matriarch's cause. After all, is it not better that the peasants learn to help themselves with worthy responsibility?"

Richeza Meyer, Nuln Merchant

"Jolly good show, honestly. You know, I see so many poor lying around in front of my carriage, and if you toss coins to them, they just come back for more. I built my shop from nothing but my own sweat and blood and a small gift of land from my father, so they can do the same!"

Johan Sommer, Altdorf Burgess

"Damn. Why didn't we think of hiring the Shallyans first? Their market reach is impressive!"

Johan van der Messer, Marienburger
 
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Ar-Ulric Kriestov:

"NOW this is the law of the jungle, as old and as true as the sky,
And the wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the wolf that shall break it must die.

As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back;
For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack."

The high priest stands over a series of maps, documents and books with a frown on his face.
Out side it snows and the sun is setting, his fingers slide across his battle axe propped up against the table, he knows where he would rather be.

Yet here he has to stand surrounded by several of his high priest.
Huge rugged bearded men, they look more like a raiding party than they do high priests, and yet holy men they are to the last.

"Most of you have questioned my plans,.." He begins only to be cut off by one of the youngest there speaking.
"Not I, Ar-Ulric! My loyalty is true" He quickly shouts eager to prove himself.

"I am glad you have questioned me." He continues and the others give quite chuckles at the young one being shot down.

"Your loyalty should be to Ulric and to his followers, not to me, not to the church not to anything else. So question me when you have doubts. Now some of you have expressed concern that our actions weaken the church, and in some ways they do. We spend coin on increasing the production of iron, we spend coin on hiring dwarves we spend coin and influence getting nobles and guilds to work with us. We spend this coin and favor and expect to see nothing back

And yet

We build a country and a faith. We make more iron for strong men to wield weapons and we pay for forges and anvils to make and repair those arms and armor, we train those men with the army, with our knights and with our priest, we build walls and fortifications that those men may stand upon, even against great odds.

We spend a staggering amount of wealth yes, but what need does a wolf have for gold instead of fangs? No we protect the pack by making the pack able to better protect itself."
 
Turn One - The Horse-Killer's Journey
The Horse-killer's Journey
(Written by @Havocfett with my approval)

The mission was as simple as it was ambitious. While the Stirlish and their allies cleared the Haunted Hills to the South, the Order of Everlasting Light would put right an ancient and terrible wrong. The Red Abbey, far in Sylvania's eastern reaches, had been desecrated by Konrad von Carstein in centuries long past. Its monks, now undead, still kept their unholy vigil, and its muted bells told away their eternal torment. The Knights of the Everlasting Light would purge the keep, consecrate the grounds, and turn the location back over to Sigmar.

Alas, faith and good intentions swiftly ran into a wildly ambitious project. The Red Abbey was deep within Sylvania's borders, beyond Drakenhof and Waldenhof and many places that were yet strongholds of the undead. The locals had begun to hide their food, and themselves, away and without the cooperation of the Count Malsangre, getting supplies from them was nigh impossible. Worse, forage was useless. Little grew nearby, many of the fields had been torched or harvested prematurely, and ranging away from the road would have required braving the Hel Fenn, something the Knights of the Everlasting Light found themselves unwilling to risk.

So they marched, food dwindling, numbers growing as the faithful joined them, doomed by logistics more than anything else. It was mere coincidence that their largest wagon broke, a wheel shattering upon uneven ground, spilling precious water and irreplaceable grain. But once it was gone the expedition was given up as doomed. They retreated, forced to kill and eat some dozen horses to maintain themselves as they returned to Stirland.

But none had died, and combat had been avoided, and lessons had been learned. The Red Keep is not an insurmountable obstacle for a future expedition. The Scouring of Sylvania has done much to reduce the population of the Undead, and the towns are at least….populated enough. The issues at hand are distance, local cooperation, and the investment of capital necessary for the journey at hand.

And, of course, the awkward matter of the Curse that plagues the Order.

Still, the failure was an embarrassing one to report, and resulted in furious Knights of Sigmar's Blood forced to march south empty handed, to join the Purge of the Haunted Hills late, and with nothing to show for it besides.

This was, in the end, for the best.
 
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