There are dozens of them, hundreds... more than have ever gathered before, in this fallen age. Minds which have been locked in contemplation for millennia have been awoken, others kept quiscient for centuries at a time have been released from their slumber by the sudden re-alignment of the Cosmic Imbalance. The Southern Gate is gone. The endless tide of corruption and filth has slowed, the toxic miasma that clouded their minds and dulled their knowledge has faded.
They burn like stars.
With delicate traceries of cosmic math they commune, theories and proposals exchanged, debates begun and concluded in time that is not time. Is this event a part of the Great Plan? No, certainly not, or at least not as it was designed before the Great Catastrophe. Is it the work of the Old Ones, adjusting their Plan to the development of the past cosmic cycle? There is insufficient data.
Clarification must be sought.
A proposal is made. Scouts must be dispatched, expeditions mounted... and while such works are undertaken, the Web must be reinforced. Even from here, the disruption caused by this Event can be perceived. The calculations of the minds cannot be completed with such damaged tools. Such work will require measures not previously contemplated, but... it is acceptable.
[Outside multiple High Elf cities, the earth violently reshapes itself to form great pictagrams of a kind known to be found in Lustria and other ancient relic-sites across the globe. When the sages of Hoeth are consulted, the language is found to be excessively simple, almost to the point of being insulting]
There are dozens of them, hundreds... more than have ever gathered before, in this fallen age. Minds which have been locked in contemplation for millennia have been awoken, others kept quiscient for centuries at a time have been released from their slumber by the sudden re-alignment of the Cosmic Imbalance. The Southern Gate is gone. The endless tide of corruption and filth has slowed, the toxic miasma that clouded their minds and dulled their knowledge has faded.
They burn like stars.
With delicate traceries of cosmic math they commune, theories and proposals exchanged, debates begun and concluded in time that is not time. Is this event a part of the Great Plan? No, certainly not, or at least not as it was designed before the Great Catastrophe. Is it the work of the Old Ones, adjusting their Plan to the development of the past cosmic cycle? There is insufficient data.
Clarification must be sought.
A proposal is made. Scouts must be dispatched, expeditions mounted... and while such works are undertaken, the Web must be reinforced. Even from here, the disruption caused by this Event can be perceived. The calculations of the minds cannot be completed with such damaged tools. Such work will require measures not previously contemplated, but... it is acceptable.
[Outside multiple High Elf cities, the earth violently reshapes itself to form great pictagrams of a kind known to be found in Lustria and other ancient relic-sites across the globe. When the sages of Hoeth are consulted, the language is found to be excessively simple, almost to the point of being insulting]
Tyrion: THIS IS NOTHING LESS THAN AN ACT OF WAR! If they can bend the very ground beneath our feet to their will, then who knows what else they might do against us. We must strike before they can do permanent harm to our people.
Finubar: I am always open to opening a dialouge with new allies against the Great Enemy of all..but this? This insults the dignity of the Phoenix King!
Alarielle : Dearest. Do shut up.
Tyrion + Finubar: Yes dear.....
Tyrion: THIS IS NOTHING LESS THAN AN ACT OF WAR! If they can bend the very ground beneath our feet to their will, then who knows what else they might do against us. We must strike before they can do permanent harm to our people.
Finubar: I am always open to opening a dialouge with new allies against the Great Enemy of all..but this? This insults the dignity of the Phoenix King!
Alarielle : Dearest. Do shut up.
Tyrion + Finubar: Yes dear.....
In stone made lighter than air, in pyramids older than mortal races, in a living work of magic and artistry given form by cold-blooded hands they come, drifting serenely across the surface of the Great Ocean.
On Ulthuan's shores they land, coruscating arcs of pale blue light bending beneath their descending form to cushion the force of impact. A breeze washes over the serried ranks of warriors awaiting them, rustling cloth and catching at the banners, making the great heroes squint as they brace.
From within the pyramid, a mind emerges; a vortex of magical energy bound by cold intellect in a body seven millennia old. One of the Slann, travelling beyond the borders of Lustria for the first time in centuries. It floats forwards on a slab of rune-marked stone, escorted by a full hundred saurus warriors of the Temple Guard, largest and fiercest of their monstrous kind. A handful of skinks dart and skitter around the party as it advances, and it is one of those that leads the way, pausing to squat a safe distance from the mighty figures at the head of the Elven army.
The Slann draws to a halt, and makes a simple gesture with one flabby hand.
"The Holy One Gratoranak, Slann Mage-Priest of the Third Generation, bids greetings to Aenarion of the Elves," the skink chatters in passable elvish, staring at the waiting delegation with unblinking eyes.
In stone made lighter than air, in pyramids older than mortal races, in a living work of magic and artistry given form by cold-blooded hands they come, drifting serenely across the surface of the Great Ocean.
On Ulthuan's shores they land, coruscating arcs of pale blue light bending beneath their descending form to cushion the force of impact. A breeze washes over the serried ranks of warriors awaiting them, rustling cloth and catching at the banners, making the great heroes squint as they brace.
From within the pyramid, a mind emerges; a vortex of magical energy bound by cold intellect in a body seven millennia old. One of the Slann, travelling beyond the borders of Lustria for the first time in centuries. It floats forwards on a slab of rune-marked stone, escorted by a full hundred saurus warriors of the Temple Guard, largest and fiercest of their monstrous kind. A handful of skinks dart and skitter around the party as it advances, and it is one of those that leads the way, pausing to squat a safe distance from the mighty figures at the head of the Elven army.
The Slann draws to a halt, and makes a simple gesture with one flabby hand.
"The Holy One Gratoranak, Slann Mage-Priest of the Third Generation, bids greetings to Aenarion of the Elves," the skink chatters in passable elvish, staring at the waiting delegation with unblinking eyes.
A deafening silence greeted those words, though all could sense the eyes drawn to Tyrion, still clad in his ancestors armor, the spitting image of the first Phoenix King, though whether that could be considered a boon or a curse would depend upon the individual.
Clearing his throat, the Elven Warrior spoke.
"I, Prince Tyrion of the line of Aenerion, accept and return the greetings of your people, on the behalf of the Phoenix King, my lord Finubar."
Said lord and master stood several paces back, flanked by a pair of White Lion pelted warriors from Chrace, politely hiding his stares of curiosity at the Slann floating in their midst.
"Might I ask if the change that has so affected the world has brought you to our shores. We received your message, such as it was." Tyrion continued, the faintest traces of red now appearing in his skin, his pride stung by how simple it seemed to be, marking the land under his protection so.
Let's get this out the way and assure you we have no idea what just happened. We had no involvment with whatever put all those new moons in the sky and led to all those magical nightmares.
But whatever caused it also made Par Vollen disappear. Not only that, but whatever foul land the Qunari called a homeland. Now, with that in mind we are planning on renewing our efforts to crush them once and for all. Seheron will return to the Imperial fold that it should have never left. We tell you this because of Kont-aar. We intend to see the Qunari utterly consigned to the pages of history, and yet we have no desire to antagonize you by sending our legions to fight in your backyard.
So, if you happen to find the desire to remove that stain on your lands, now would be a good time with the Qunari's focus soon to be shifted fully to us.
To: Felicisima Armada @EliudFS1
From: Tevinter Imperium
Confidential
The Magisterium has decided that now is the time to deal the final blow to the Qunari. As such we request the services of your ships to support the Imperial Navy in establishing full control of the seas.
You shall be properly compensated for your efforts.
The Empire and the Grand Principality of Reikland 2522 IC
His Imperial Highness and Most Serene Monarch Karl Franz I, Grand Prince of Reikland, Defier of the Dark, Protector of the Empire, Emperor Himself, Elector Count of Reikland, by the Grace of all the Good Gods, Commander of the Grand Order of the Reiksguard, Peaceful Ruler of the Entire Empire in Perpetuity, is not a happy man today. The Council of State has been convened, the Prime Estates are sitting in council, the Colleges have been alerted and representatives from every single Great Province across the entire vast territory of the Empire that has survived two thousand and five hundred years are present. Disorder rules and even the Council of State is in disarray, from Balthasar Gelt standing under a barrage of questioning, his face impassive as ever to Lotte Hochsvoll surrounded by a throng of scribes and secretaries that panickedly hurry to and fro. "Order! Order!" sounds the tired voice of Agatha von Böhrn - the seventh time she has had to raise her voice over the rest of the Council of State today - and slowly a blessed peace, which His Imperial Highness is only too aware will unfortunately be temporal, falls over the chamber.
The Empire may have endured two thousand and five hundred years, he thinks, but if he has to endure this for just two hours more he will die. And what a strange situation too. Seven moons in the night sky, distant report of new countries across the great sea, vast changes in the blowing of the winds of magic. The debate resumes and soon the shouting does as well, Karl Franz does not know much of these foreign lands, nor does anyone within these exalted chambers, but he knows just one thing; if any of these newcomers threaten his Empire, the Empire of Sigmar Heldenhammer, then he will personally put their heades on spikes for inflicting this frustration upon him.
The Empire. Two thousand five hundred and twenty two years of dominance, since it was established by Sigmar Heldenhammer, king of the Unberogen and the Twelve Tribes of Man. Since then, it has weathered Norscan assaults, Greenskin tides, vast invasions on behalf of the Ruinous Powers and civil wars that have lasted longer than several states have existed. Laying across the Old World like a tapestry and spreading from Nordland's snowy forests to fertile Wissenland's wide fields of grain, the Empire is composed of ten Grand Provinces, each ruled at least in theory by an Elector Count, all of which must ultimately answer to the Emperor that they have elected. The Empire is diverse and multicultural, the "dialects" of Averland often as unintellegible with Hochlander or Middenlander tongues as another language entirely. Its vast size is further compounded by the disordered mess of city-states, knightly orders, townships, priesthoods and lordships that dot it, making the administration of such a vast and exalted body more or less impossible by any single person. Instead, the Grand Provinces act more or less autonomously to deal with their own problems while the Emperor minds the good of the entire Empire.
However, despite its division and bickering, only a fool would attack the Empire and be convinced of their own success, for history is littered with the waves that have crashed against the mighty house that Sigmar built. Where are the waves now? They are nowhere to be seen, subsumed back into the ocean as the impregnable Empire stands proud still. When faced with an existential crisis, the Empire transforms from bickering provinces into a terrifying force which no threat can face directly. Its armies number legion and the sound of marching Imperial soldiers is the sound of thunder and the fury of a storm.
Important Persons:
Frankly too many to mention, but the following are the most most important.
His Imperial Highness, Karl Franz I, the Emperor Himself: What has not already been said of Karl Franz I? Ingenious, courageous, patient, diplomatic. Karl Franz has reformed what the Empire even means. From a loose confederation of kingdoms and duchies into a vast machine of war held aloft by an ancient and lofty culture. As Grand Prince of Reikland and Emperor, Karl Franz has a long history of diplomatic solutions and negotiation to achieve his goals behind him. He has reformed the Empire several times and constructed several new institutions from scratch. If there is any man in the Empire capable of uniting the Elector Counts against this new threat, it is Karl Franz I.
Supreme Patriarch Balthasar Gelt: The Supreme Patriarch of the Colleges of Magic is as mysterious and shrouded as the Emperor he serves is famous and known. With his mask of gold, this man who is the youngest to hold the title of Supreme Patriarch, commands an aura of awe and respect from even his peers that kings would find to evoke. A silent and soft-spoken man, he nonetheless is a master of the magical arts seldom seen. In all matters dealing with the arcane, Balthasar Gelt is the chief advisor of the entire Empire.
Grand Theogonist Volkmar the Grim: Unwavering. Unshakable. Unbreakable. All words that have been used to describe the foremost spiritual authority of the Empire. Volkmar the Grim is the Grand Theogonist and head of the Church of Sigmar. Despite his withered appearance and less-than-flattering stature, this man holds a fire within him that compels those around him to give more, do more, be more. He frequently locks himself inside his study for days and studies tomes that would break lesser men. Volkmar has promised a grand battle between good and evil before, will these seven moons be its heralds?
Reikmarshal Kurt Helborg: The supreme commander of the Empire's forces, it is the duty of the Reiksmarshal to gather the forces of the Elector Counts, corral them together and otherwise transform the disparate fighting forces into a singular army. In this duty, Kurt Helborg has repeatedly succeeded. Infamously rivalrous towards the Emperor's Champion, he has led the vast armies of the Empire everywhere from Kislev's freezing tundras to Araby's wasting deserts. While he is an honourable man, his honour is ultimately contingent on the Empire and he is not afraid to compromise it for the good of the Empire.
The Emperor's Champion Ludwig Schwarzhelm: Often called humourless, Ludwig Schwarzhelm is the Emperor's Champion. He travels from city to city to ensure that the edicts of the Emperor are upheld and represents his lord in judicial duels, something which has caused several nobles to simply confess to crimes rather than face him. Ludwig is a man of justice and a man of fairness, but he is also a man of great inflexibility and to his mind it would be tantamount to putting the entire foundation of the Empire at risk to bend even a single of the Emperor's laws.
By the authority of the Imperial Throne, his Imperial Highness Karl Franz I of Reikland bids the Electors of the Empire, all of whom love their people dearly and whose lineages are sanctified, to enact a comprehensive census of their Grand Provinces and to record whether notable increases in the depredations of Beastmen or the accursed Norscans have taken place.
A terrible act has befallen the world and the Ruinous Powers are on the loose. Therefore, by the authority of the Imperial Throne and the line of Sigmar Heldenhammer, his Imperial Highness Karl Franz I of Reikland calls to his oldest and most beloved ally, the Asur of Ulthuan and her tenfold kingdoms and enlists their aids. Once again, mankind and elvenkind must clasp hands and protect the peoples of the world against the depredations of the Beastman, the Norscan, the blasphemer and the Ruinous Powers that they worship. His Imperial Highness has seen fit to begin an investigation into the matter spearheaded by the august Imperial Colleges of Magic
With the impeding chaos and unknown factors of the situation, his Imperial Highness Karl Franz I of Reikland has seen fit to assume immediate sovereignty of defence over the waters of Marienburg. The trade shall not be disturbed, but Imperial soldiers shall be garrisoned in noble Marienburg for her inviolate safety. For the good of her safety and that of the Empire. This shall remain true until a better grasp of what has befallen the world is acquired. His Imperial Highness joyously invites the College of Navigation and Sea Magicks of Marienburg to cooperate in a deeper investigation of these matters arcane.
Let's get this out the way and assure you we have no idea what just happened. We had no involvment with whatever put all those new moons in the sky and led to all those magical nightmares.
But whatever caused it also made Par Vollen disappear. Not only that, but whatever foul land the Qunari called a homeland. Now, with that in mind we are planning on renewing our efforts to crush them once and for all. Seheron will return to the Imperial fold that it should have never left. We tell you this because of Kont-aar. We intend to see the Qunari utterly consigned to the pages of history, and yet we have no desire to antagonize you by sending our legions to fight in your backyard.
So, if you happen to find the desire to remove that stain on your lands, now would be a good time with the Qunari's focus soon to be shifted fully to us.
To: Felicisima Armada @EliudFS1
From: Tevinter Imperium
Confidential
The Magisterium has decided that now is the time to deal the final blow to the Qunari. As such we request the services of your ships to support the Imperial Navy in establishing full control of the seas.
You shall be properly compensated for your efforts.
Our political stance regarding the conflicts between the Qunari and the Tevinter Imperium remains as it always has. We thank you for informing us of your military ambitions, and would like you to know that we will keep a close watch on them.
We thank you for informing us of the current situation regarding the Qunari. We will keep what you have said in mind.
From: The Felicisma Armada
To: The Tevinter Imperium
We welcome the employment from the Magisters of Tevinter. Our cost is high, but so are our result. You can hire our (2) navies for a (medium) price.
Our political stance regarding the conflicts between the Qunari and the Tevinter Imperium remains as it always has. We thank you for informing us of your military ambitions, and would like you to know that we will keep a close watch on them.
We thank you for informing us of the current situation regarding the Qunari. We will keep what you have said in mind.
By the authority of the Imperial Throne, his Imperial Highness Karl Franz I of Reikland bids the Electors of the Empire, all of whom love their people dearly and whose lineages are sanctified, to enact a comprehensive census of their Grand Provinces and to record whether notable increases in the depredations of Beastmen or the accursed Norscans have taken place.
A terrible act has befallen the world and the Ruinous Powers are on the loose. Therefore, by the authority of the Imperial Throne and the line of Sigmar Heldenhammer, his Imperial Highness Karl Franz I of Reikland calls to his oldest and most beloved ally, the Asur of Ulthuan and her tenfold kingdoms and enlists their aids. Once again, mankind and elvenkind must clasp hands and protect the peoples of the world against the depredations of the Beastman, the Norscan, the blasphemer and the Ruinous Powers that they worship. His Imperial Highness has seen fit to begin an investigation into the matter spearheaded by the august Imperial Colleges of Magic
With the impeding chaos and unknown factors of the situation, his Imperial Highness Karl Franz I of Reikland has seen fit to assume immediate sovereignty of defence over the waters of Marienburg. The trade shall not be disturbed, but Imperial soldiers shall be garrisoned in noble Marienburg for her inviolate safety. For the good of her safety and that of the Empire. This shall remain true until a better grasp of what has befallen the world is acquired. His Imperial Highness joyously invites the College of Navigation and Sea Magicks of Marienburg to cooperate in a deeper investigation of these matters arcane.
The response from the elector counts is a general positive one. They begin to do as told, though the quality of the census varies from province to province. (Results will be seen at the end of the turn)
From: The Directorate of Marienburg
To: Emperor Karl Franz
The Directorate has voted on your proposal, I am afraid to inform you that we can not allow Imperial troops to be garrisoned in our fair city. Marienburg has been, and will remain independent from the Empire, be in political or military matters. We assure you that our private militias are sufficient enough to keep the safety of our city and of the trade that is the lifeblood of ours and yours.
However, we do recognize the need for cooperation with the Empire. The representatives of the College of Navigation and Sea Magicks will be sent to assist in arcane matters.
A terrible act has befallen the world and the Ruinous Powers are on the loose. Therefore, by the authority of the Imperial Throne and the line of Sigmar Heldenhammer, his Imperial Highness Karl Franz I of Reikland calls to his oldest and most beloved ally, the Asur of Ulthuan and her tenfold kingdoms and enlists their aids. Once again, mankind and elvenkind must clasp hands and protect the peoples of the world against the depredations of the Beastman, the Norscan, the blasphemer and the Ruinous Powers that they worship. His Imperial Highness has seen fit to begin an investigation into the matter spearheaded by the august Imperial Colleges of Magic
The Asur have ever been the warden watching over our world, to hold fast against the creeping tides of darkness, yet we have never done so alone. Whilst we have sent forth High Loremaster Teclis to investigate what has changed upon our world, the Asur will too seek to stand at the side of the Empire of Man should Chaos spill forth once more.
A deafening silence greeted those words, though all could sense the eyes drawn to Tyrion, still clad in his ancestors armor, the spitting image of the first Phoenix King, though whether that could be considered a boon or a curse would depend upon the individual.
Clearing his throat, the Elven Warrior spoke.
"I, Prince Tyrion of the line of Aenerion, accept and return the greetings of your people, on the behalf of the Phoenix King, my lord Finubar."
Said lord and master stood several paces back, flanked by a pair of White Lion pelted warriors from Chrace, politely hiding his stares of curiosity at the Slann floating in their midst.
"Might I ask if the change that has so affected the world has brought you to our shores. We received your message, such as it was." Tyrion continued, the faintest traces of red now appearing in his skin, his pride stung by how simple it seemed to be, marking the land under his protection so.
The skink emissary cocks its head, then looks to the side... no, back at the Slann upon its palanquin. For a long minute nothing happens, utter silence falling over the lizardmen as they wait for their mage-priest to render judgement. Then the Slann's oily hide takes on a touch of blue amid the more vibrant green, and the skink bobs its head up and down in acknowledgement.
"The Holy One extends greetings to Finubar of the Elves, Phoenix King of Ulthuan," it says, this time addressing the actual ruler of Ulthuan, "It is the wish of the Holy One to communicate appreciation for the manifold efforts of the Elves in safeguarding this world, in defending the nodes of the geomantic web and staunchly contesting the forces of Disorder that would seek to destroy it."
You are quite certain that the Slann said nothing of the kind, but then it would hardly be the first time a functionary or ambassador has intervened with more diplomatic language on behalf of a head of state.
"The Event has damaged the web. Many nodes are broken, or simply absent. The Holy Ones have observed your efforts to stabilise it, and wish to provide assistance."
In the old days, when the Drowned God lifted our islands from the waves and gave the all the world to His favored children. When he named us His scourge, his reminder to the landsmen that what rose from the sea will return to it in the end, all their fields and castles and fat sons and pretty daughters.
What did it matter that our islands were were lashed with storms and choked with sea salt? We had the sea, and all the world besides. To take what we wished, when we wished, spill the blood of the strong and set the weak to toil. That was the covenant He made with us. That was the Old Way, set in salt and stone when the world was young.
And now? Now we huddle around our cook fires and tell old tales. We wrap our hands around fishing lines, not swords. We drink and remember the days of glory. The days before the dragons. When we chose kings to rule us, not lords to bow and scrape to the greenlanders. When we owned all the world, not two and two score rocks to starve and freeze on as we grow old and feeble. The days that are dead, burned with Black Harren and his sons.
The Old Way died, we butchered it ourselves, when we saved our skins and sold our souls to the dragons. But what is dead may never die, yet rises again...
- Jolinn Greyjoy
Alliances: Sworn to House Targaryen of King's Landing, lords of the Iron Isles Religion: Worship of the Drowned God, He Who Died And Yet Lives; The Watcher Beneath The Waves
Personages of Note: Lord Aeric Greyjoy, head of House Greyjoy and Lord Reaper of Pyke, once a youth of great promise and daring, rendered maimed and invalid by a fiery misadventure during a voyage in Essos, sometimes called "Lord Ingot", although never in the hearing of...
His eldest sister, Jolinn Greyjoy, Protector of Pyke and First Captain of the Iron Fleet, oft married, oft a widow, and oft a mother, of whom the Princess Rhaenys once said "She drops murdering sea reavers like a sow drops piglets". Called "Mother Kraken" by her bannermen, a living example of the rare Ironborn noblewoman "washed clean by the Drowned God" who bears arms, reaves, and claims saltwives. Her many children and grandchildren
Internal events:
Ever since the Quest for Erebor and the Battle of the Five Armies, the Dwarves of the Kingdom Under the Mountain prospered. The worm Smaug was dead, the Orcs and the Wargs were defeated, and the Men of Dale were staunch allies. Even the Beornings under Grimbeorn the Old were not hostile.
The landquakes were, all things considered, a normal if troubling thing for a subterranean people. The appearance of extra moons in the sky was not. The Witnesses and Loremasters saw this as an ill portent, but the populace of the Lonely Mountain were barely fazed; after all, they've defeated the dragon, and - with help, they grumbled under their beards - the Orcs and the Wargs, too. Come what may, they said to themselves, the Lonely Mountain will withstand it, with Dwarven fastness and Mannish industry.
Then came the scout reports; a horde of Easterlings was spotted marching alongside the northern bank of the River Running. King Dáin met with King Brand, a decision was quickly reached, and both Dale and Erebor filled with the sound of soldiers preparing for war.
Diplomatic ties, treaties, and the like:
Alliance with the Brandings of Dale
Good relations with the Elves of Mirkwood and the Beornings of the North
Diplomacy:
From: Dáin II Ironfoot, King Under the Mountain To: Thranduil Elvenking @EliudFS1
Pardon us for our briefness, for our time is short.
Our scouts are reporting that a horde of evil Men out of the East are making their way Westwards towards Mirkwood on the northern bank of the River Running. We of the Lonely Mountain, and our allies of Dale, shall meet them in battle, but their numbers are not known to us, and it is a fool that bets on the certainty of his victory. Prepare yourselves, for it may be your lands that he passes through next.
With respect, etc etc,
The King Under the Mountain
From: Dáin II Ironfoot, King Under the Mountain To: Whomsoever that leads the Easterlings @CT22222
Turn back and leave the Dwarven lands on which you have trespassed. You have one chance.
After half a dozen meetings , numerous speculations and a large amount of ink used , order returned in a somewhat swift manner in fortress of Weisshaupt. The Grey Wardens , by their open-minded approach to magic , their endless fight against hordes of drakspawn without counting and their determination to duel Archdemons , were more prepared than others to face world changing events but not everyone had such discipline.
Most notably the scorched and very religious lands of the Anderfels had the potential to react to the appearance of several new moons and stars with panic and disorder.
The High Constable Sabastian , a long-time friend of the First Warden who had always been more gregarious and attuned to the peoples of Thedas and was even more so since he became a sort of public figure and liaison between the Order and the Anders communities around Weisshaupt , feared the apparition of would-be prophets , cults , or simply bandits profiting from the confusion and recommanded to the First Warden an deployment of the wardens into the Anderfels to calm the population and forge closer bonds with them.
Having the constant preoccupation of finding more recruits in addition to having to wrestle regularly with the inept High King of the Anderfels about poiltical matters , the First Warden jumped on the occasion to sap the authority of Hossberg and reinforce its own standing , and not only authorised the deployment of troops to keep order in the rural lands but also asked his officers to help locals form militias , officialy solely for the purpose of protecting the people against the darkspawns.
The world change , and the Order change with it. The Grey Wardens march.
The Iron Islands are rocked by a series of uprisings, as the seven moons in the night sky are seized on as portents by thralls who keep the Andal Faith, foretelling deliverance from the wretched lives they have been forced into.
From Pyke to Blacktyde, farming tools and mining implements spill Ironborn blood as desperate men and women follow the lead of would be prophets, fishing villages and mining outposts put to the torch, lone reavers are pulled down by ragged mobs, and drowned men are hanged. The most heaviest fighting occurs within the walls of Lordsport itself, with a septon turned thrall exhorting his followers to seize ships in the harbor to flee the Isles.
In the end, it comes to naught. Longships crammed full of reavers in full armor cut through the waves, overwhelming each scattered band of would be holy warriors, with Jolinn Greyjoy's own Wave-Tamer ramming its way onto the Lordsport docks to deal a killing blow to the most organized effort, and in the aftermath comes atrocity, as any thrall so much as suspected of being in league with the rebels is flung into the sea with a stone lashed to their necks.
The priests of the Drowned God rail against the Seven and their followers, the lords and captain weep for their dead, and when Lord Aeric calls his bannermen to attemd him at the Great Keep it is an infuriated and impoverished host who gather, seething at being forced to defend their home from such pathetic foes and scowling at empty mines and untilled fields... @EliudFS1
It could be said that no world was as shaken as the world of Thedas was. A few months after the great nightmare and the appearance of the extra moons and constellations. The world of Thedas would find itself under attack. Under the command of Count Noctilus. Three fleets of undead pirates would explore the new world of Thedas, and by explore, I also mean exploit. The fleet of count Noctilus would discover and make landfall in the city of Amaranthine in Ferelden. The Vampyrate fleet would overrun the ports and the city. The defenders of Amaranthine went from defending the city to evacuating the city as fast as possible as they quickly realized that there was no hope in repelling an invasion of this much force. It would be fortunate for them that the vampires would stop to resurrect the fallen defenders.
At the end of the day, the city fell to the tide of undead, as refugees fled into the countryside. News quickly spread to Denerim as the newly crown King Cailan vowed to expel the undead invaders as he gathers his armies alongside his most trusted general Loghain MacTir. King Cailan has also called for aid to all their allies.
The Assault on Amaranthine
Troubles in the Deep There is something worse than Darkspawn in the Deep roads. Reports of a massive rat-like creature has been seen exiting the Deep Roads by the people of the Anderfels. There even has been reports of the rat-like creatures fighting Darkspawn to confused onlookers. So far this new development has troubled the population of the Anderfels, as there seems to be a new war on the horizon. The Dwarves of Kal Sharok are also concerned but also sensing an opportunity to reclaim the lost Thaigs from the Darkspawn.
The Reclamation of Seheron As soon as news reached the Tevinter Imperium that the Qunari homeland disappeared, they quickly organized an attack with the help of the Felicisima armada. The Qunari, while they were somewhat confused due to the disappearance of their homeland still had the teachings of the Qun to fall back to. The Magic backed Fleet of the Tevinter and the Dreadnought Qunari fleet engaged each other once more.
This will meet in victory for the Tevinter Imperium as they defeated the main Qunari fleet and blockaded Seheron. Remnants from the Qunari fleet quickly currently seek to regroup and find their homeland to relieve the siege of Seheron.
Before Tevinter moved to blockade Seheron, another pack of warriors made a daring raid against it. This time it was a pack of Norscans who assaulted the Qunari colony. Meeting heavy resistance, the Norscan warriors managed to get decent loot for their troubles. Diplomacy or confrontation with the Tevinter Imperium appears imminent.
Gotrek and Felix Made Landfall
The mercenary group of Gotrek and Felix made landfall in Denerim at about the same time that news reached of the Vampyrate invasion. Pledging their swords to King Calian in exchange for huge amounts of gold and knowledge of the new treats to Ferelden. The arrival of an entire army who knew their enemy sent a wave of relief to the armies of Ferelden. If they know their enemy, and it can bleed, then it can be killed.
Also, Gotrek attracted the attention of a great number of Dwarf merchants. Which lead to all kind of shenanigans. (Diplomacy with Orzamar and Ferelden unlocked)
They also learned of rumors of a fleet of strange Qunari-like fleets that were seen scouting the lands of Ferelden.
The Beastmen Tide
A Group of Beastmen led by the famous Grimgor Ironhide have traveled all the way from their home and towards this southern continent. They settled in what the locals call it the Arlathan Forest (Elvhenan), where they were immediately attacked by what they thought were a weird race of wood elves. They were quickly defeated and made their home in this place. Getting ready to terrorize the people of Antiva.
A Warden's Call
The Grey wardens have gotten decent success at training the Anderfels peasants. Which has greatly reassured the peasants. Though it has annoyed some royal officials.
In other news, the Grey Wardens have been asked to help the people of Ferelden against the undead tide that is sweeping the nation. Even as reports of increasing Darkspawn prescence is felt in the Deep Roads in Orzzamar. King Cailian offers the full help from the Kingdom in combating the Darkspawn threat, if they were to help out against the Vampires.
His Lord Father was feeding albatrosses. His lord father hated albatrosses, Harwin knew. Up by the parapets, where the wind whipped heavy furs like banners, Lord Bywin Strong ripped off pieces of bread and tossed them to the birds. They were flocking around Harrenhal like pests, but his father forbade any servant from harming one. It was the curse of Harrenhal, the smallfolk and even the bannermen and man at arms whispered. It chilled Harwin. The curse was just... a scary story to tell around a fire, one that would be laughed away in the morning sun.
But there was something about his father that Harwin could not place his finger on. Something subtly off. Like there was some masterful puppeteer moving his limbs.
[The Shade of Harren sends out albatrosses he has skinchanged into to survey Westeros, into the Riverlands, the Iron Isles, the North, and the Crownlands. He also sends them over the seas to view the new landmasses.]
Once the Kings of the Arbor, House Redwyne's illustrious past has given way a less acclaimed present. Like the many powerful Houses of the Reach, House Redwyne is said to be descended from the legendary Garth Greenhand, though they are through his younger son Gilbert of the Vines who would go on to teach the secrets of wine-making to his own descendants. When the Andals invaded millennia ago, House Redwyne and House Hightower worked together to hold back those mighty warriors with their own famed fleets. And before Aegon Targaryen began his conquest, House Redwyne is said to have hosted the proud Valyrian King on their isle.
When the last King of the Arbor was lost at sea, House Redwyne returned to the fold of the Gardeners and when King Aegon Targaryen ended the fabled line, the proud Lord Redwyne found himself subservient to an up-jumped steward known as Tyrell like the rest of the Reach. Now the Year is 96 AC and many events have come to pass, from Lord Manfryd Redwyne serving as the Master of Ships of under King Jaerhaerys to Ryam Redwyne becoming a member of the Kingsguard and eventually known as the most talented Knight of his generation.
The future has yet to happen, but with their mighty fleet often considered the finest in Westeros alongside the location of the Arbor, the fortunes of House Redwyne will not be brought to ruin. Across the Kingdom of Westeros, Manfryd and Ryam have ensured the prominence of the Redwyne name while the other members of the House tend to their duties and obligations.
Family Tree of House Redwyne:
Lord Manfryd Redwyne* (20 AC - 89 AC) - The father of Robert Redwyne, Rickard Redwyne, and Ryam Redwyne. Former Master of Ships and Lord of the Arbor, now resting in House Redwyne's crypts.
Lady Alysanne Redwyne nee Hightower (22 AC - 92 AC) - A former Hightower lady, who was betrothed to Manfryd at age 16, with her husband dead she joined him shortly after grief-stricken and heartbroken.
Lord Robert Redwyne** (38 AC - present-day) - The current Lord of the Arbor and Admiral of the Redwyne Fleet. An old Knight, who has turned away from his glory days and has taken to ensuring House Redwyne's continued prominence and prosperity.
Lady Jeyne Redwyne nee Grimm (41 AC - present-day) - The wife of Robert, and the mother of three children. A daughter of the Shield Islands, her marriage to Robert would bind the Arbor and the Shields closer together.
Ser Desmond Redwyne*** (58 AC - present-day) - Yet another Arbor Knight, this Redwyne though capable of fighting is far more concerned with the monetary matters and administrative proceedings of the Arbor Isles
Lady Erayna Redwyne nee Goldwyne (60 AC - present-day) - A daughter of the cadet branch of the Redwynes, her marriage to Desmond was one of love and continued support of their own vassals.
Ser Donnel Redwyne**** (70 AC - present-day) Like his father and grandfather, Donnel is an Arbor Knight but unlike them young Donnel has taken to traveling through Essos and negotiating various deals with the Essossian Merchants regarding the various prices for the Arbor wine and more.
Horas Redwyne**** (80 AC - present-day) - The youngest son of Ser Desmond, Horas has taken to martial pursuits like his Uncle Gyles, serving as the Redwyne Knights squire as he travels throughout the Reach he's taken part in a great many tourneys and borne witness to many bandit hunts.
Ser Gyles Redwyne*** (59 AC - present-day) - A true Arbor Knight, Gyles travels through the Reach attending Tourneys and hunting bandits abound, martial pursuits are all he seeks.
Lady Celesse Redwyne***(62 AC - present-day) - A proud daughter of House Redwyne, Celesse took to her lady duties like a duck to water. Now she rests as the wife of Lord Hewett once more ensuring the Shield Islands and the Arbor alliance would stand.
Ser Rickard Redwyne** (39 AC-present-day) The often overlooked middle-child of his generations Redwyne children, the Knight who was knighted by King Jaehaerys and in turn knighted Prince Baelon, Ser Rickard has turned his attention to the ships his own family was famed for. With the knowledge of navies and war at sea, Rickard would serve as a capable Admiral for his house.
Lady Elenai Redwyne nee Tarth (42 AC - present-day) - Serving to foster ties outside of the Reach with yet another naval power and important port within the Stormlands, Elenai and Rickard were wed.
Ser Tylan Redwyne*** (72 AC - present-day) The first child of Rickard and Elenai, Tylan has earned his spurs not in the Arbor but with his relatives upon the isle of Tarth. Like his father, Tylan has taken to naval pursuits and is quite the adept sailor often sailing with the Tarth fleet in its pursuit of pirates and protecting their merchant ships.
Acolyte Meylen Redwyne*** (73 AC - present-day) The second-born, Meylen was quite academically gifted and focused on learning. When the time came he joined
Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Ryam Redwyne** (40 AC - present-day) - The most famed Knight of his generation, now serving as the King's Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Loyalty and vows are strongly upheld by him, chivalry is what he breathes. Just don't let him rule the realm, politics and administration aren't his strong suit. One might say he'd make for the worst of Hands.
Ties: House Redwyne count themselves as some of the chief Bannerman of House Tyrell, and as a loyal vassal of the Iron Throne. They currently are closely entwined with Hightower and the Shield Islands alongside an alliance of sorts to Tarth.
Breakdown of Ties:
Bannerman of House Tyrell
Vassal of the Targaryens
Economic, Marriage Alliance - Family with House Hightower
Economic, Marriage, and Military Pact - Family with House Grimm and Hewett of the Shield Isles
Economic, Marriage Alliance - House Tarth
The bells of every Sept in Westeros were ringing when they saw the seven moons on the sky. Septons from all over where already assigning roles from the Father to the Stranger to these new moons. One thing they could all agree was that of the green one, that one they all reserved for the Stranger.
In the Lands of the North, the Starks in Winterfell saw the ash that had fallen, and the Winter that came with it to be one of ill omen. Wary of a Long Night, and that of the moons in the sky. The Stark in Winterfell sent his brother Benjen as a emissary to the Wall, in order to find out if this sudden change herald the return of the Others. In this young Benjen had no problems or ills, for the Night's Watch greeted the Stark warmly and with great need, for the Lord Commander was just finishing a letter to King Jaehaerys and Queen Alyssane about precisely the same topic.
There have been reports of a new band of what looked like Wildlings. Reports from rangers saw great warriors with all kinds of beasts and fell magicks. Giants and Direwolves were with the roving band, but they were different from what they normally thought they looked like. It was like they were strangers and not from this land. They came in from the North, from the land of Always Winter, and it looked like they were fighting something over there. Battles have been fought beyond the wall, Ice Spiders and dead men made battle against corrupted Direwolves and Giants, and a bloody woman, of all people, was leading the charge.
"It was Chaos out there" was all the First Ranger had to say.
First Contact in the Middle of Nowhere
A couple of months after the second great Valyrian eruption and the emergence of the Moons of the Seven. The Lannisters of the Westerlands were intrigued to say the least. Some members of House Lannister still heard rumors of witches in the woods. People who survived the Andal invasion and had made their living telling fortunes and doing petty tricks here and there. Or so they thought.
One day, a seer made a prophecy to a young Jason Lannister, heir to the Rock. A prophecy that said that the far of lands of Sothoros and Yi Ti where no more. Replaced with four new worlds, and that those new moons where a part of them. Of course, she was imprisoned in the dungeons of Casterly Rock for blasphemy. It was only when rumors and traders that went to and from Essos came back with rumors that proved her right, did the Lannisters hear more from the seer.
Armed with knowledge, the Lannister fleet from Casterly Rock went West, attempting once more to cross the Sunset Sea. If there really was a land beyond the endless ocean, then will the seer live.
It came as a surprise to them that they didn't find land, but another fleet from a different continent. The Ebonheart pact had very much the same idea, as the two fleets found themselves meeting in the open ocean, to the surprise of everyone involved. (Diplomacy between The Ebonheart Pact and Westeros Unlocked)
Raid on Dorne
Immediately after quelling a Thrall rebellion, Jolinn Greyjoy made the discovery that all of this was a Dornish plot, as the leader of the rebellion was a Stone Dornish thrall. Gathering her fleets and men, she led a Iron Fleet to sack and plunder the Dornish homeland. All over Dorne did her ships land, assault and plunder. Even Planky town and the great capital of Sunspear were put to the sword. Soon, after three months of campaigning, the Dornish fleet would find itself either burned or sunk.
Afterwards, the eldest son of Jolinn, Galen Harlaw went north to King's Landing on his ship Red Wake, with two "gifts" for King Jahaerys: the salted corpse of the youngest son of House Botley, little more than a boy, who was slain in the fighting at Lordsport, and the pickled head of the Dornish septon who led the rebel thralls.
He made his case to the King, espousing all the evils that the Donrish have done, including the raids on both the Stormlands and the Reach. He reminded the court of their treachery, of all the things they have done to the good people of the Seven Kingdoms. He said all of these things and more as he made the case to move against Dorne.
The Great Voyage
House Lannister was not the only one to make grand exploration journeys. House Redwyne sent a exploration fleet to find the lost Targaryen Isles discovered by Alys Westhill 30 years prior which were found easily enough. The fleet has made preparations for the first Westerosi colony, which will serve as a launching point for further expeditions into the unknown worlds.
Another expedition was also attempted, this time with the cooperation of House Tarth and House Hightower this one with the ambition of going all the way to Yi Ti and record all the eccentricities and wonders they encounter. They however, did not find what they were looking for. Instead of reaching Yi Ti, they would find open ocean instead, upon landing in Qarth, they would be informed that one day, Yi Ti and the surrounding lands were gone. Replaced by Ocean and a winter-ish hellscape. They would also learn rumors of a brand new continent as well. One filled with jungle, and some say, giant reptiles. (Diplomacy between Lustria and House Redwyne unlocked)
To: Fellow Norscan Tribes @EliudFS1
From: Wulfrick the Wanderer
Brothers, these new lands to the South are ripe for plunder and conquest. I call upon those to raise their axes in the name of our gods and come south with us and reveal in the glory and death that awaits us on these new shores.
To: Strange Ships off the Coast of our Island @Bandeirante
From: Wulfrick the Wander A vessel appears in front of your fleet unenxpectingly with warriors brandishing no visible weapons.
Hail Southerners. You fly banners we do not recognize. Tell us now where you're from and what you are doing so close to our own fleet.
To: Strange Ships off the Coast of our Island @Bandeirante
From: Wulfrick the Wander A vessel appears in front of your fleet unenxpectingly with warriors brandishing no visible weapons.
Hail Southerners. You fly banners we do not recognize. Tell us now where you're from and what you are doing so close to our own fleet.
The very soil of this land is watered with the blood of our legions. And that of the wretched Qunari. The ruins amid fog strewn jungles were places there by our hands. The aqueducts, walls, settlements and roads used now by our enemies were originally built by us.
We have fought long and hard to reach this moment. The Qunari will die, its outrageous philosophy will be wiped off the face of the earth and whatever is left shall be carried in our holds as spoils of our victory.
You are obviously not from here, so your ignorance can be forgiven, stranger. So take this warning carefully; the Imperium is not a foe to be made lightly. We have no quarrel with you. But if you choose to stand in the way of our retribution, that will soon change.
The very soil of this land is watered with the blood of our legions. And that of the wretched Qunari. The ruins amid fog strewn jungles were places there by our hands. The aqueducts, walls, settlements and roads used now by our enemies were originally built by us.
We have fought long and hard to reach this moment. The Qunari will die, its outrageous philosophy will be wiped off the face of the earth and whatever is left shall be carried in our holds as spoils of our victory.
You are obviously not from here, so your ignorance can be forgiven, stranger. So take this warning carefully; the Imperium is not a foe to be made lightly. We have no quarrel with you. But if you choose to stand in the way of our retribution, that will soon change
.....BAHAHAHA!!!! Ya hear that lads, we got a big bad southern milk sop in front of us. What can ya do to us? Shoot lighting from your arse? That would be a feat wouldn't it boys? A full grown man dropping pants and shitting lighting.
Ya know what, that's what I'll call ya now, lighting shitter CAUSE THAT'S A FITTING NAME FOR A SKINNY, "I AM BIG AND SCARY" MILKSOP LIKE YOU!!!!
An indivdual steps forward. Calmer and more mellow than the warrior in front of him.
Please know that what he means to say is that although we respect these shores, we cannot leave until our leader gives the order.
