Well, seeing as Kessel is basically German for Potter or pot-maker...
Is it really that surprising there are multiple families in the empire baring the same name?
EDIT: Just a fun factoid - Hohenzollern translates to Long-measurement (literally: Hochen - taller, longer & Zoll - a unit of measure comparable to the inch) or alternately high tolls (Zoll can also mean toll, border-customs in old German)
EDIT: Just a fun factoid - Hohenzollern translates to Long-measurement (literally: Hochen - taller, longer & Zoll - a unit of measure comparable to the inch) or alternately high tolls (Zoll can also mean toll, border-customs in old German)
...I'm not sure that is a valid interpretation.
I'm something like 88% positive that Zoll is translating as 'duty' only in the same context as toll - a duty to pay, as it were.
Still, I might be totally wrong.
Yeah, a chipped nail is a heavy toll to live with.
Forces of Chaos
Tzeenth - lost the changeling to a timeout. Best agent for tzeentch, but not the only agent.
Khorne - lost skulltaker, a few bloodthirsters, still angry strong.
Nurgle - lost to the whims of dice.
Slaanesh - Doing fine
The army of chaos - Endless horde in service to the four. Endless, say it with me endless.
Gunthar, count of middenland. - Trolled hard by others, but he is supposed to be on our side. Hurt the empire, win for chaos!
Skaven - Already replenished, probably. They breed fast.
Orcs - Fight? Whaaaaaaaagh!!
Beastmen - Working to prove their relevance.
Tilea - hmph
Estalia - 'stare'
Kislev - Baby, it's cold outside...
Elves - ?
Dwarves - The reclamation has stalled, damn grobi. We just got started.
Brettonia - Their teeth got smashed.
Araby - Things happen here.
Cathay - Far away, and over the hills.
Ogres - ?
Undead- Vampires = Exist, Nehekara = exist, necromancers = exist, Sylvania was claimed by the Empire.
In summary, we got a Chaos that has infighting (not new), Skaven freddy can't purge from the world (not new), Orc tides (not new), beastmen plots (not new), whatever the elves are up to (beyond human help), empire plots from within the empire (not new), magister plots (to be a future concern, later, magnus believed that anyways). Oh, and the Empire is about the only world power in the area in a strong position if they get about ten years of no threats attacking. Maybe Kislev can be called stable, instead of excluded? The dwarves are tied in the mountains. Tilea and Estalia are squabling children. Kislev is a sensitive topic. Brettonia is a wild card. Araby is relatively quiet. The elves are elves. The borderlands are outcasts. At least blackfire pass is being fortified, I wonder if the old dwarf fortifications there will see rebuilding?
In raw numbers most likely, however they lost : Doomclaw a immortal member of the council of thirteen, The entirety of Clan Rictus and their seemingly endless hoards of stormvermin, at least 3 grey seers of 169 who will take time to replace, however many have died in the inevitable civil war over who replaces Doomclaw, at least 2 screaming bells and the services of at least 2 Verminlords including Verminking himself for the next few decades.
In raw numbers most likely, however they lost : Doomclaw a immortal member of the council of thirteen, The entirety of Clan Rictus and their seemingly endless hoards of stormvermin, at least 3 grey seers of 169 who will take time to replace, however many have died in the inevitable civil war over who replaces Doomclaw, at least 2 screaming bells and the services of at least 2 Verminlords including Verminking himself for the next few decades.
I was trying to make the point that Freddy hasn't done much to severly cripple any of the important enemy factions.
The 'eternity stair' success is reliant on the elves, and might blow up at any time.
The trident is isolationist, and only now successfully walking out with not much help from Freddy. Even the Averland and Reikland diplomacy stunt were relatively better for a Faith reason than Freddy.
Ostland is doing well, except there is a percieved need to focus only on strengthening Ostland's military might, screw everything else if it doesn't kill our enemies better. For example, why study the bikes when we can focus on guns and useless engines (yeah, yeah, steam tech, but only for weapons, because nothing is good enough to be researched if it doesn't serve as a weapon)?
Ummmm, Sylvania is an indirect casuality of the war against Zacharias, but Ostland helped, as did everyone else to remove the undead there. Sylvania is no longer home to the undead, but it has only started recovery.
The players married Sabine, but intrigue actions have failed. Her skill at coin is fun though.
Oh, there is a positive thing, the Norscans have had really bad luck trying to attack Ostland by sea, and might not raid this year.
In raw numbers most likely, however they lost : Doomclaw a immortal member of the council of thirteen, The entirety of Clan Rictus and their seemingly endless hoards of stormvermin, at least 3 grey seers of 169 who will take time to replace, however many have died in the inevitable civil war over who replaces Doomclaw, at least 2 screaming bells and the services of at least 2 Verminlords including Verminking himself for the next few decades.
Yeah, about that council member. There is a war against the greenskins being fought, good practice to prove your worth. The Skaven have been busy since KU (many years ago), they were in Estalia, attacked dwarf settlements, human settlements, Wolfenburg got skaven settlers. The war factory of the skaven should be running as hard as lightning.
Ostland is doing well, except there is a percieved need to focus only on strengthening Ostland's military might, screw everything else if it doesn't kill our enemies better. For example, why study the bikes when we can focus on guns and useless engines (yeah, yeah, steam tech, but only for weapons, because nothing is good enough to be researched if it doesn't serve as a weapon)?
You... do realize that the option to further develop the bicycles explicitly mentions that the goal is to make them suitable for military and off-road use right?
Welcome to Warhammer. Where the Elector Count's first and foremost duty is to keep their province safe from those who would seek to bring ruin on the people of Sigmar's Empire and their works.
You... do realize that the option to further develop the bicycles explicitly mentions that the goal is to make them suitable for military and off-road use right?
most military innovation that does not kill will likely become available for civilians i can see Ostland start selling bicycles to its own people and export them to the rest of the world
You... do realize that the option to further develop the bicycles explicitly mentions that the goal is to make them suitable for military and off-road use right?
Welcome to Warhammer. Where the Elector Count's first and foremost duty is to keep their province safe from those who would seek to bring ruin on the people of Sigmar's Empire and their works.
I never bought into bicycles as super viable until we get some decent(smooth) roads, develop some sort of cushioned tire if we don't have rubber, start burning vasts sections of forests and countryside to get the undergrowth out, or pick up all the rocks and bumps from the countryside.
Like the dwarfs and elves probably have roads that are smooth enough to not rattle peoples teeth out but good luck getting them to pay attention to it.
I'm actually more interested in their design, and the requirements needeed for decent military application. Imagine if gear change is figured out, tire treads, or we copy some of the principles of the way Steam Tanks move off-road onto the bicycle. Next step, Steam Tank Construction!
GM Note: Late, I know. Front page changes, some, made. I know there are likely mistakes. Most likely, they will be pm'ed to me in time, so that I can fix them. Elector's Meet Stuff will come later.
Military: Stephan von Raukov is a quiet yet experienced mercenary soldier, but his dedication to Ostland and family is unquestionable. He strongly believes in honor, preserving the lives of your own fighters, and unconventional tactics. (Choose 2):
Circle Up: The Blood Fane is a disgusting shrine to the Blood God, and must be destroyed. Conventional weapons will certainly not be enough. On the other hand, you cannot afford to simply let it sit around out there in the wilderness. No, the Army of the Forest and the Army of Ostland need to keep that placed locked up as tight as they can, prevent the beastmen from coming close. Or anyone else entirely. You don't know if they will be coming at all, and if so where. There are also greenskins who might want it simply because you have it, or swarms of giant spiders that might move in, and so on and so on. It will prevent the Army of Ostland from doing anything else for the year, so that will have to be factored in of course. But this is, obviously, very important indeed. Cost: 1,000. Time: Until Blood Fane Destroyed. Reward: Blood Fane Not Claimed By Other Forces. Chance Of Success: Variable Depending On Outside Forces. DD on Circle Up
- See Below
Investigate Beast-Paths: It's time the mercenaries did something on their own. Specifically, the Beast-Paths. Disturbing trails driven into the forests, likely ranging the entire Empire. The Wood Elves know of them. And they could use the aid, or if failing that, a way to back them up if they are in need of it. And you need to know them better. For the rare poor individual who finds them, often never finds their way back out. But something tells you that you won't have forever to know the taste of retaliation. Ever since you killed Warhoof, hearing the rumors, the reports, and now this? The beastmen are up to something, and you need to be ready. That includes possible attack vectors. Such as the Beast-Paths. It's a harsh job, but you're paying them, are you not? Cost: 500. Time: 1 Year. Reward: At Least One Major Beast-Path Located. Chance Of Success: 75%
- Required: 25. Rolled: 41.
It's not like you haven't heard of the beast-paths. Everyone has. Bone-strewn trails carved into the forests that span the Empire over thousands of years. The relentless capacity of the beastmen for destruction, harnessed in the simple act of traveling wherever they will. The stories are endless. A hunter stumbling upon them had best retreat immediately, or else slit his throat then and there. For the beastmen do not take incursions into 'their' places kindly. They are endlessly mobile, constantly traveling along their paths between their most sacred places when they aren't rampaging outwards and killing anyone in their way. The Wood Elves know these paths as well, simply to track their seemingly endless foes. A dangerous prospect regardless. Some are larger than others, centuries of growth trampled beneath their hooves. But one was found and marked, leading southwest into Hochland. There is a point where the water runs low, low enough for them to trudge through, and off into Hochland itself. It is north of the bridge, closer to the mountains than anything else. Worse, it seemed recently traveled, according to the Wood Elves at least. Based on the sheer crush to the bones and dirt of said recent tracks, the answer as to 'who' and 'what' was obvious. Some advance warning was useful, at least. Reward: One Major Beast-Path Located: Ostland-Hochland Border North End Beast-Path. Small boost for Circle Up due to information gained.
Line Them Up: The thing is, you are not fighting large fleets of foes. You are facing sporadic raiders, who dance along the coast and try to strike a single village and then leave with their ill-begotten goods. The fleet simply cannot cover the whole of the province's coastline every moment of every day. But you have soldiers waiting to protect them, to guard, but they are limited in number as well. There's also the knights. Really, the major issue is getting reinforcements there in time, and to do that, you need to know that they are needed in the first place. A strong series of stout towers along the coastline, capable of passing messages along but are defensible in and of themselves, equipped with eagle-eyed fighters supplied with good spyglasses? Might just help things along. Keep some closer to the shore than others, so that even if raiders do land it takes them a moment to get to the towers which can pass messages along. Constructing them, supplying the men and training them, these things will take time. But it can be done. Cost: 1,500. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Salkalten Guard and Ostland Coast gain a series of watchtowers, capable of passing messages back and forth through bird or by horse, while also scouting further than the average dockworker might be able to see. Mechanically reduced DC for naval successes due to better warning and reinforcement system. Will Complete This Year.
- The watchtowers are complete. High structures of stone and thick wood, their fires will burn bright as necessary. The launchers were added as well, ensuring that messengers can literally fly to each other if required. A small set of stables with well-bred horses of impeccable stock built for speed are present, as well as comfortable barracks for those stationed there. A valuable thing indeed. For too long, the Counts of Ostland saw their coast as little more than a wasteland, focusing within the forests. But now you've made the damn thing somewhat valuable, and so it simply must be protected. This will have to be enough for now. Reward: Salkalten Guard and Ostland Coast gain a series of watchtowers, capable of passing messages back and forth through bird or by horse, while also scouting further than the average dockworker might be able to see. Mechanically reduced DC for naval successes due to better warning and reinforcement system.
Mercenary Office: An office has been established, purely for the purchasing and ending of mercenary contracts, as well as ordering them to aid in different purposes. When one does not require this, the office will ensure that no issue is made of it. When does, it will not take away resources from other offices of the central government of Ostland. [Note: Do not need to act upon this if not required]
Purchase Additional Mercenaries: You have the money to pay, and you have the need. Mercenaries are omni-present in this world, and you could use some extra bodies. Or expertise, or training, or any other number of things. Send out the call, see who responds, and set up the contracts. Cost: Depends. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Choose Which Mercenary Band To Hire, and For What.
- The hiring is complete, and the mercenaries have joined your ranks. For a price, of course.
Third Imperial Navy: As the Steward of the Third Imperial Navy, you have a responsibility to build up, maintain, and use the ships of the Empire for its betterment and protection. The First Imperial Navy is based in Nordland, while the Second Imperial Navy is based in Marienburg. Should the material requirements extend beyond that of the Imperial Stipend, they will come from the treasury to fill in the gap. (Choose 1): Due To Docks Being At Over-Capacity, No Further Ship-Building Actions Can Be Taken
Guarding Ships: A number of wolf ships could escort your trade caravans, ensuring that they can be relied upon to gain both more goods and be better protected in bringing them back. This will, obviously, draw away some of your wolfships from regular patrol duty to do so, but it is not the worst thing in the world when you have a good number of wargalleys, right? Off they'll go, ranging out down the coasts in search of wealth, with some might Ostlander Wolf Ships guarding them the entire way. Far better than the simple defenses merchants would otherwise possess, right? Cost: 100. Time: 1 Year. Reward: 50% Chance Of Increased Trade Income For This Turn, Recoup Cost And A Bit Of Extra Profit.
- Required: 50. Rolled: 53.
Your wolf ships headed west and then south, along with some trade ships, where they visited both the hubs of Nordland and then down to Marienburg. There was some risky business there, but the Marienburgers are not out to cause people to cease trading with them all together. Your captains report that prices seemed a bit higher for buying and a bit lower for selling than they would have preferred, but in the end they were still able to make something of a profit. Nothing major, but something is better than nothing. Able to spend more, the usual caution thrown ever so slightly to the wind thanks to the presence of true guard ships, they came back with an appreciable amount of goods. The furthest they went was down the coast of Bretonnia, but there was not nearly as much trade there as they hoped. The 'Scourge of Seas', a self-named Bretonnian pirate, has been bothering their coastline for quite some time. Your people minded themselves and held more to caution than risk, and returned rather than find themselves 'appropriated' for some purpose or another. Reward: +350 Additional Income For This Turn, Cost Covering = 250 Income For Treasury For This Turn.
The Greatest Offense, Part 3: There was a reason this part came second. The second half of the defenses involves restructuring the things behind the new wall. Protected as they are now, the docks you've already built can be improved on, in terms of protection against nature or possible attack, as well as properly expanded without compromising on overall structural integrity for the docks and city as a whole. Stone reinforced warehouses with materials for immediate maintenance or entirely new production can be built, along with areas built by the Barak Varr engineers for seafood storage and sorting. But also, they intend to drop shaped stone just below the waves in front of the Sea Wall, invisible thanks to the coloration of the waters but protective all the same. Artificial defensive reefs, something only possible due to the amount of foundation and defense built up thus far, as well as indulging these engineers in their less-than-traditional fantasies. Once this is complete, only ships and captains of Ostland will know the proper paths to get into the gates. No fleet will be able to approach the walls without being ruined, forced into the paths demanded by the jagged blocks. Towers will rise from the walls, allowing for simply more surface area for weapons firing while also providing greater visibility in clear skies and without – possessing hollows in the center through which lights can blaze bright. The docks will also be enlarged and enhanced. The breadth of what you have built in terms of defense has granted you a not insignificant amount of space to build up inside of. Cost: 7,500. Time: 3 Years. Reward: Second Half of Salkalten Defenses (Revised) Constructed. Slight Fishing Income Increase. Ship capacity increase. Will Complete This Turn.
- If you wish to do anything more to improve the defenses of Salkalten, you'll have to outright station an entire new army there, or just a whole lot of new cannons. Or both. Its walls are just slightly thicker than should be reasonable. Defensive reefs built so that those who do not follow the directives of its defenders will be utterly ruined. Towers have risen with scorpions and great cannons alike, a vast array of smaller swivel guns at checkpoints and along the walls in case of infantry-based assaults. The walls themselves are high enough and thick enough that their innards can be lighthouses in terms of bonfires. Within the confines of the walls, the docks have been vastly improved, allowing for more ships to be berthed, maintained, and even constructed. Obviously, the fleet itself does not spend every waking day there either, they can be out on the water for weeks at a time on patrol, and sometimes longer. This, in turn, allows for more merchant ships to come inside, unload their goods, and leave again before berthing becomes an issue. Obviously, there are small sections dedicated for military vessels, but that is simply part and parcel of the new Salkalten Docks. In truth, the city is actually remarkably empty, by comparison to the size expansions you keep throwing at it, but that only allows those going there for work to easily fit in. Other settlements in Ostland who were beginning to feel just a bit tight have sent many young sons to Salkalten to seek their fortune, flooding it with young professionals and apprentices, as well as new businessmen opening up brand new establishments of all sorts. Plus, the streets themselves have been re-organized, buildings demolished and rebuilt over the course of these years to make them more defensible in material and placement. The streets are themselves a tactical consideration, in case the walls should fail somehow and an army allowed in. Some are wide for crossfires, others are smaller, forcing would-be invaders to march in smaller number and be picked off. Whole sections of the city are now walled and gated, meaning that in the case of total emergency, they can be shut off and contained. Smaller towers, just enough to let the Salkalten Guard see above the crowds, and checkpoints to let them keep watch over the populace as closely as possible. Minor commercial interest aids as well, with a remarkably militarized Salkalten Fish Market now in existence. You've also got multiple bird bomber flocks that now reside in Salkalten, ready and waiting to deliver death out upon the waters as required. Reward: Second Half of Salkalten Defenses (Revised) Constructed. +50 Fishing Income Increase Per Turn. Ship Capacity Increased To 100 Due To Improved Berths/Docks.
Diplomacy: Natasha is your incomparable wife. She commits to her work with business-like attitude, with no distractions. With Sabine here, what can be done, and with who, has expanded in scope and scale, it seems. (Choose 2):
Not Quite Trident: The province of Stirland is not part of the Trident. But you can respect them regardless. The Nordland and Ostland have suffered under the Norscans, the druchii, sea beasts, raiders from beyond and so on. Ostermark suffers from the orcs of the World's Edge Mountains and the raiders of Kurgan and many other tribes pushing through Kislev. But Stirland has been dealing with Sylvania for centuries. Vlad. Konrad. Mannfred. Necromancers aplenty. The strigoi. Plus, as well you suppose, the greenskins brave enough to try and bull through the mountains and come west through them. They lost their finest farmland thanks to one of the most frustratingly greedy and idiotic Emperor's to have ever existed. So they've suffered, certainly. Of course, no province in the Empire has been free of pain, of war, since before they were even provinces. But, perhaps only Averland has had to deal with the same level of continual outside threat. But now Sylvania is on the inside, technically of Stirland. So perhaps reach out once more to the Countess, and see if there's anything you can offer her to help? Cost: 100. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Increased Stirland Communications. Chance of Success: 85%
- Required: 15. Rolled: 37.
Ava is a hard woman. She has to be, considering she's spent so much time with Sylvania as a problem. Her province's culture is a naturally conservative one. She never made friends with the other provinces around her, focused as she has been on her own problems. She couldn't do much otherwise, besides the usual levels of diplomatic connection. Obviously there were requests for aid, the usual kind, but her own nobility is pretty staunchly proud. And she does not have the accomplishments that the Northern Trident does to simply bull her way through. The marriages of her children are of vital importance within the province to maintain her own power over the upper and middle nobility, while she's gaining influence with the lowest levels by granting lands and such to them within Sylvania. Her communications with you are severe, yet somewhat warm regardless due to one simple fact – you don't have any interest in trying to push her around, or secure something in particular from her right now. Also, apparently, Ortrud has been regularly communicating with her as well, so that helped smooth things along. As it is, the only things she would really like from you is for you to help lobby with Arthur to get significantly more support from the Cult of Morr in her lands. Militarily, spiritually, and infrastructure-wise. Beyond just Arthur himself, that is. Perhaps some trade compacts, running up along the rivers. More pleasantly, you are also introduced, through letters, to her children. Two strong sons, both knights in their own right, who have recently been granted estates within Sylvania to develop along with the rest of the land. Maximilian and Marius are their names, and they seem in somewhat cautious awe of you speaking to them. Reward: Two Stirland-based Actions Unlocked, 1 Piety, 1 Diplomacy. Contact with The Krieglitz Brothers, Maximilian and Marius.
Opening Old Wounds: Johanna didn't quite actually die. But nor does she precisely live anymore either. Her father will never, ever forgive you for this. You cannot wholly blame him for this. But what of his sons? You've not particularly spoken to them before either. You haven't even made the effort. Perhaps it is time you did. At the least, it would be better for both of your provinces that relations grow easier. Perhaps they'll not grow warm within your lifetime, but you can hopefully keep them from utterly freezing over. It has been many years and you lose little offering your hand again. Seek out these two sons of Talabecland, who make friends with giants. But keep it quiet, of course. You don't need Adolf Fuerbach to explode at you. Again. But he shouldn't be able to get too mad at you for trying to open up some diplomatic channels with his sons. You don't really know too much about their relationship to Johanna, you realize. She was the heir, and remained as such even when she left the Empire itself, such was Adolf's affection for her that he refused to change that until she was 'dead' to him. Really, you'd just like there to be a bit less tension between your provinces. Cost: 750. Time: 1 Year. Reward: Non-Negative Diplomatic Contact With Sons of Fuerbach. Chance of Success: 50%
- Required: 50. Rolled: 16.
It did not go well. The young dukes immediately saw that you were trying to get past their father to speak to them, and they promptly informed their father. Your letters of approach were returned scored with marks of Taal usually meant to represent the marking of a cursed object or site. Accusations were flung, of leading their beloved sister to her death, while Adolf himself seethed at you for daring to try and speak to yet more of his children. Perhaps you are trying to entreat them to fight more of your battles for you, hmm? To build your legend atop the bones of another child of his? No, he refuses to let you do so. Krugar, the heir, rebuffed you ever so piously. Aloysis, on the other hand, as the so-called Champion of Talabecland, came a hairs breadth away from challenging you to a duel in the name of his sister's honor that you have besmirched. So…that avenue has shut quite firmly, you think. At least they didn't raise tariffs or such on your people. Failure. The Brothers Fuerbach Do Not Care For You. Adolf Found Out, Isn't Happy.
Bloody Money: Sabine has had a thought. She will never be quite fully Ostlander, but that was rather at least part of the point of marrying outside of Ostland. But back to the point. There is one thing that everyone in Ostland knows about, even if it is in a somewhat abstract sense. From the lowest hamlets to the highest office - yours - conflict is common. Tavern fights, brawls after a few too many beers, and so on. But there is something that you yourself have experienced, something that is, depending on the city, illegal. Specifically, pit fighting. In many places of the Empire, it is a fatal sport. But this does not necessarily need to be true. Perhaps the weapons are kept to nothing but the body. Perhaps those that are used are blunted. With priests on hand, and organized physicians? A thought. For now, at least. You could, even, potentially end up using some of the Jade Wizards for healing purposes, with them receiving a portion of the fees that they would deserve after preserving the fighters. What Sabine wants to do is scout the Empire, up and down, for a specific flavor of fighter, and those that help organize such things. Not too brutal and murderous enough to constantly kill their opponents, but neither too weak at actually spilling a bit of blood. Depending on how well it goes, she thinks it could even become a somewhat religious sponsored event. At least for the Cult of Sigmar and Ulric. Why not turn the natural impulse towards sport like this into a protected, carefully watched - by priest and witch hunter potentially - yet profitable thing? All that matters is finding the right people with the right expertise. Something the common man can participate in, rather than a knightly joust. Cost: 1,000. Time: 3 Year. Reward: Pit Fighting Organization Foundation? Possible source of income/entertainment for the province. Chance of Success: 70% Will Complete This Turn.
- Required: 30. Rolled: 63.
So it begins! The Imperial Fighting League, or the IFL, has come into proper existence. It may not quite rival the current gambling profits and fighting stable of the Wolf Pit of Middenheim, or the glamor of the Gilded Arenas of Araby, but it is something all right. For now, Sabine has organized the IFL into an officiated league, positions of commercial authority, and so on, amongst the various arenas that exist in Ostland. The Salt Deck of Salkalten, the Horn of Jegow, and various smaller basement pits in Wulfenburg proper, for instance. Strictly non-lethal, at the moment, though blood is still shed. So it is less 'exciting' for many who would otherwise attend. On the other hand, the idea of fighters regularly returning without, well, dying, means a more long-term and sustainable venture. And, yes, there are profits. But there could be more. There will be more, she promises, as things come to a head and interest rises in a progressing venture. But, there is something more that could be done, she thinks. A proper, fully established, arena. Like the coliseums of old, in the days of Myrmidia's near unified Estalia and Tilea. Blessed, of course, by the priests of the Empire, to ensure no influence from darker entities. She has plans beyond that, too. You've seen the damn things. Whole reams of paper. Different 'divisions' of fighters, security concerns, possibly even building IFL arenas in other cities of Ostland and beyond. Plus something she calls 'sponsorships'. Reward: IFL [Imperial Fighting League] Formed! New Income Source: IFL Profits. Current Profits Set At +50 Per Turn. Will Increase Over Next Few Turns As Interest Grows In Ostland.
Stewardship: Morgan von Bernhardt is an energetic woman. While her father was not the most creative man, she seems to be more so. With her vigor, she has promised you significantly more than her father was able to stay awake for, though lately she has been coughing a bit more and spending time with her children. (Choose 1):
Agricultural Survey: You've been building a lot of new farms recently, mostly by expanding the land, declaring it farmland, and having farmers take it over. But how good is your farming, really? Ostland was never the most farming-inclined, and you've been relatively lax on making it standardized or anything. The best expertise you have right now are the halflings, for they come from the Moot, possibly the most fertile land in all the Empire for farming, to hear them tell it. If you could organize a few halflings to survey the various farmlands of Ostland, new and old, they might have some tips or be able to identify inefficiencies or bottlenecks here and there. Even the nobility can't complain too much, for even if it goes against 'traditional' farming, or go against their own decisions for the land, they appreciate more food and income as well as anyone else. Cost: 1,000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Farmland of Ostland Surveyed for possible improvements? Chance of Success: 75% Will Complete This Turn.
- Required: 25. Rolled: 91. Critical Success
- Not only were there improvements to be made, they went ahead and did some of them. One of the greatest issues between the farms of Ostland and those of the Moot is the fact that Ostlanders hacked theirs out of the forests and then tore up the soil to make it do what they wanted. The sheer forested nature of your province, coupled with the refusal to travel very much outside the bounds of the roads or the village you came from, means that your agricultural knowledge is actually quite behind the times. Largely just food, no cash crops, and whatever could be immediately acquired and nurtured enough to provide within the suffocating confines of the forest. To a humbling extent. Your planting patterns, the crops you're planting, where you're planting what, and even soil treatments. You had quite the lengthy conversation with Moro who, absent of being the Elder of the Moot anymore, has apparently become the main leader of the Ostland halflings alongside Hagrid. Where Hagrid manages most urban matters, she's been ranging out into the 'wilderness' outside out of a sense of duty and newly found freedom. You wonder what you would do if you weren't shackled by your own responsibilities? In any case, there's more to be done, obviously, but they found it in them to perform the first steps. Reward: Farmland of Ostland Surveyed For Possible Improvements. Minor Improvements Enacted! +100 Farming Income Per Turn. Major Agricultural Update Action Unlocked.
The Northern March: The Northern March is the least-forested part of the province. Windswept grassy plains, they are not particularly valuable in terms of farming. Well, right now at least. What they can be better used for, however, is rearing of horses. The lands of Nordland and Ostermark cannot quite match it, given over to other geographical features. If anything, the plains are similar more to the steppes of the Ungols to the northeast. More recently, Serhild and Arthur have taken up command in part of Vogelsang of a small horse rearing group. Now technically that place is under the control of Arthur's branch of your family, and from there, Serhild and Sabine could potentially expand their horse rearing operations to far greater numbers. Possibly combining breeds of Kislev and the Empire together. Of course, horse breeding takes time, but more than simply just breeding for better horses, you can also work to simply produce them. Horses are valuable after all, for more than just warfare. You can sell them to coaching companies, merchants and their caravans, and, possibly, for meat. Setting it up would take time of course, but all things do. Cost: 1,000. Time: 3 Years. Reward: Horse Rearing/Breeding Organized In Northern March. Minor for now. Opens up further options for various sales/projects. Will Complete Next Turn.
- Serhild has actually become quite taken with this venture, and it has brought her closer with Sabine as a result. The two are working quite closely on this. It warms your heart to see the skittish woman act so confidently. When it comes to coin, she's practically one of Ulric's wolves on the hunt. Will Complete Next Turn.
Logging Assistance: Wood is always in demand, across the Empire. To build houses, carriages, wagons, and more. Barrels for ale, for instance. Sabine has suggested an investment into your major logging communities, such as Roezfels and Vandergart. Government subsidies, effectively, to allow them to create larger and more sophisticated logging facilities, allowing greater profit to flow in the province as a result. It takes money to make money, as Sabine can often be found saying. You could also put some towards the logging yards near Jegow, allowing that settlement to expand slightly in the future, while reducing the nearness of the forest to their settlement. In the future, that should provide aid against greenskins, beastmen, or otherwise, at least allowing the Bull Warriors a chance to see them coming. Cost: 1,000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Single-time fund gain. Logging Income Increase.
- Money goes in and hopefully money will come out. Sabine is ensuring it, between caring for her children and spending time with Magnus. She does not spend nearly as much time at court as she might once have, you think. Will Complete Next Turn.
Research: Helga and her daughter have taken up this position, switching off whenever the other has to be teaching a class or engineering something or other in your engineering facilities. ONE OPTION LOCKED OVERALL DUE TO AVERLAND PRODUCTION REQUIREMENTS (Choose 2):
Blastweave: The intricate and exacting carvings within the Ironblaster Cannon have a clear purpose. Their spiraling nature ensures that, upon exiting the barrel, a comparatively sized single shot has far greater accuracy and speed. Blastweave, they've taken to calling it, after how looms spin together a far greater product from simpler strands of cloth. Only this time the loom is the spiraling, and the 'weave' is the effect of the improved firing pattern. A rather obtuse lateral linguistic maneuver, but none of them were particularly taken with calling it 'cannoning' or 'ironblasting' for some reason. And really, shouldn't they have been called Bronzeblasters if they were made of bronze? Or shot – it doesn't matter. Regardless, adding blastweave to your other cannons is not going to be simple. It has to be remarkably exact, a preciseness that means you can't simply say 'do it' and have it be done. It will require time to train properly, as well as manufacture as well. That's besides even managing to extend it to your other cannons. Or, heaven forbid, managing to somehow make it possible for your handguns or pistols. You need to start now, or never get it at all. The continued intense studies of the Ironblaster were, thankfully, written down. Cost: 1,000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Blastweave Upgrade Action Unlocked For Great Cannons And Dash Cannons. Smaller Blastweave Project Possible. Chance of Success: 75%
Honestly, after so much obsessive study of the original Ironblaster, it should have come to no surprise that the engineers were able to replicate its innards. They certainly spent enough time inside of it. You have, Anna has, Helga has, and Idette has. A fever pitch was the mainstay for this project for months and months, forging and testing the design until it became ironclad. The shouts of 'spiral power' became a regular occurrence during their drinking binges. You don't quite get the sensationalism of it, but you don't need to. What matters is the results they've produced. Blastweave is a concept now fully ready to be added into your current cannonry. It will be expensive, you'll basically be reforging the damn things, somewhat, but the benefits are obvious. Plus, you can start, potentially, on working on creating smaller blastweave for things like handguns and swivel guns. That, on the other hand, will surely be a bit more difficult. Fine manipulation is harder than cannon molds, after all. Reward: Blastweave Upgrade Action Unlocked For Great Cannons And Dash Cannons. Smaller Blastweave Project Unlocked.
Steam Boiler Improvements: Okay, so Valma refused and cannot be expected to release any more dwarfen truths, especially with her death. Still, Helga, and Agatha are willing to try and work on the Steam Boilers of your equipment, usually in the Doomspheres, though you hear that the steam power of the dwarfs helps their impressive Ironclad vessels move about. If you managed to improve your own steam power, your Doomspheres would be faster, and would probably just be far better in general. The more power in them, the harder they can hit things and…well. Who knows what improved steam power could bring in the future? You'll never know if you don't work on it. With the study of the Soup Tank completed so thoroughly, you can use ideas and concepts taken from the soup…boiler…and contribute to this project instead. It should certainly help! And if your engineers can do this, perhaps they can apply the knowledge they've gained on other sorts of engines… Cost: 1500. Time: 4 Years. Reward: Improved Steam Power For Future Projects. Doompsheres improved, though cost will go up equivalently. Better knowledge on boiler systems and engine works for other projects. Chance of Success: 65%.
- Required: 35. Rolled: 39.
It has begun. It will be rough going. It already is. Burns, shrapnel exposure, flesh being scalded from bones, and so on has occurred with startling rapidity. It takes the Jade Wizards to ensure that as many engineers as possible survive their wounds. Will Complete In Three More Turns.
Piety: You now have three religious advisors. One, Jorgen Albrecht, is a Priest of Sigmar, Emil Beltz on the other hand is a Priest of Ulric, while Lady Rosa is a Priest of Morr. Having all three prominent advisors from all three of these religions is a powerful statement, and with their own staffs you get a little bit more ability to…well, do things. (LOCKED):
The Great Kitchen of The Mountains: Now that the Middle Mountains have been thoroughly divided, it is time that you make your section a true home and hearth for your people who choose to settle there. And nothing helps people feel welcome like a hearty meal! It will take a bit of work to set one up, but it will likely be worth it in the long run. The various Great Kitchens of Esmeralda usually become major locus points for the people to come meet at, eat at, and communicate with one another. They spend what tithes people give them, or donated foodstuffs, to create the meals. While the Grand Kitchen has the highest quality due to the nature of common clientele including yourself and other major nobility, the faithful of Esmeralda can do a lot with very little – in comparison. Set it up further in than Mierach, for that place is close enough to the Grand Kitchen in Wulfenburg. Cost: 1,500. Time: 3 Years. Reward: A Great Kitchen of Esmeralda set up in Middle Mountains. Faith of Esmeralda spreads. More likely for settlement growth in Middle Mountains? Will Complete Next Turn.
- Construction continues, kept going even in the colder clime by halflings swaddled in furs and ogre assistants. Will Complete Next Turn.
Other Gods: Verena. What do you know of Verena? Little, compared to Sigmar, Ulric, or Shallya. Less than Manann, Taal, and Rhya. About the same as Myrmidia, if you are honest. You know, thanks to Ortrud, that Verena is the Goddess of Knowledge, Science, Law and Justice. You know from your time in Jegow and listening to the grousing of nobles, that they are also a bit manic when it comes to certain things. Leaping upon pyres of accursed knowledge to preserve them, for one. Their dogged pursuit of what they consider to be law and justice has occasionally brought their cult into conflict with those they should not try against…though sometimes it is deserved. Probably, you think, it is not as if you actually know much about them. Perhaps it is time that that changed. The dwarfs do not…love humans trying to worship their Ancestor Gods. And there is an idea there, you know, of perhaps using Verena or Myrmidia for your engineer's purposes…for now an idea is all it is. For is Myrmidia not also considered by some to be a Goddess of Wisdom, Beauty, and Honor, and perhaps just Civilization? But you need to know more about them first, if you even want to consider inviting them into your province at a greater level. Perhaps in different ways? Cost: 500. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Cursory Study Into Verena and Myrmidia for possible future options. Chance of Success: 100% Will Complete This Turn.
- Well, you certainly know more than you used to, at least. For one thing, you probably should have done this earlier, as the information you got based around Verena's domains as a Goddess, and the rule of law for the more developed Myrmidian courts in the south of the Old World, it would have helped you in your ongoing law project. In terms of fairness, of organization, of information, all three of these could have been obtained sooner than now. Thus, you find yourself going backwards and revising a lot of your works. There are some darker things about Verena that you hadn't known before. The Defenders of Truth, for instance, are madmen. Any book, any knowledge, any research? You know very well what sorts of cursed knowledge there is hanging out there. The Witch Hunters can tell, as can the wizards, of certain tomes corrupting those who touch them, let alone read them! There are also rumors of Verenans fostering unrest against those they find to be 'unjust', whatever their interpretation of such there is. While you appreciate a certain portion of her works, the fact that she is sometimes less concerned about the actual rule of law itself might post problems if you go too far. There are other things, of course. Myrmidia is also apparently the Goddess of Wisdom, as well as a patron of the sciences and the fine arts. Which means they're both similar in that respect. But there is something you also discovered in your research. The 'Great Book of Wisdom' in Estalia had an entire campaign orchestrated against it by a Necrarch vampire! So, Verena's ability to maybe help you with your law works aside, Myrmidia clearly is doing something right to get a vampire so eager to plunder her secrets or desecrate her artifacts. The capabilities of their military aspects are obviously of interest to you as well. But sciences, the science of war specifically…maybe you've found a patron for your Engineering School beyond just Sigmar and Ulric and so on? It is not as if worship of the Ancestor Gods is something the dwarfs would look upon fondly, after all. Honor, sure, but worship? No. Things to consider, at least. Reward: Verenan Consult For Law Personal Action Unlocked. Science Of War Action Unlocked.
Ogres Of The Wild: It is not easy to get into contact with a Patriarch of Taal or a Matriarch of Rhya most days, especially the ones of Ostland. Their combined cult has been scouring the forests of Ostland, practically flooding them with their people seeking to consecrate that which has been held in shadow for so long. Who could help them with this? Tough hunters, able trackers, durable and eager to learn? Why the ogres of course. And if you are going to do this, truly do this, you need to get into contact with Helmut and Raina, if those are the two even in command – such as one can be – anymore. They wander constantly, so you need to track them down, and then get them to lend their influence amongst the cult to help indoctrinate the ogres of Ostland further. The more secure they are with that, and the works of Esmeralda, the less likely they will be to fall to other influences. Faith is, you know very well now, a very important shield in the world. Cost: 500. Time: 3 Years. Reward: Cult of Taal and Rhya Further Entrenched Amongst Ogre Population. Ogres To Aid Cult/Work With Cult/Further Effects? Chance of Success: 75% Will Complete This Turn.
- Required: 25. Rolled: 28.
A number of ogres, otherwise listless with no particular prospects, have left the villages and cities where they found little to occupy them. Only so many can be employed at a time after all, and ogres are not a monolith species when it comes to their abilities. Some are far better fighters than cooks, for instance. These, it seems, are those that simply needed something else in life. You understand it, the men and women of the Empire have always had the same sorts since the time of Sigmar. Finding a serenity and sanctity in nature, beyond just seeing things as food, and finding their natural place in the world's natural balance. You hear rumors of young ogres joining the Kin of Taal, of them becoming as Wardens as well. They are, it turns out, consummate and remarkably skilled hunters when taught properly. A number of lady ogres have also been sighted as apprentices of the Bringers of Bounty, clad in rough spun brown robes following around older matrons. While they certainly require a bit more food than normal hunters, their ability to adjust and adapt is plainly remarkable. Plus, though they're quite gruff about things, neither of the Hierarchs will deny the sheer utility of having an ogre defending a sacred place of Taal, their endurance and strength outweighing that of a normal human man tremendously. The no-nonsense nature of the cults works to their favor in this. Ogre men and ogre women, are still men and women, and aside from a few aspects work mostly in the same way, do they not? The transition was easier than you'd thought it would be. Or maybe that is just the way of those two elder deities that you'd spend less time thinking about. Reward: Cult of Taal and Rhya Further Entrenched Amongst Ogre Population. Ogres To Aid Cult/Work With Cult/Further Effects?
Intrigue: You have two different intelligence organizations. One, Witch Hunter Marlisa, is focused on combating cults, threats, monsters, and generally outside forces. The other is Master Baggins, a very influential halfling cook and champion of the common man. Now, a third, is present in the form of Sabine. Her own experience is different, but that does not preclude her from having value in this. (Choose 1):
Entrenchment: You can't rush this. You simply can't. This isn't a war of swords, it is one of words and shadows. It will take far longer, but you need to actually find spies. Recruit them, gain their nominal loyalty, and it is not something that can be done quickly. Hagrid is confident that he can do it, but that it will take time and work to get it to happen. First off, you aren't even going to start in Marienburg, but in the Wasteland surrounding it, and then work your way towards its heart. You've got to build up the ranks of your previously non-existent spy ring. It's going to take a while to pull off, but it will, hopefully, be worth it. First, Hagrid has to figure out someone in Marienburg willing to engage with you. Then move forward, until you've actually got information you can work with. Cost: 2,000. Time: 3 Years. Reward: Marienburg Spy Ring Established. Chance of Success: 70%
- Required: 30. Rolled: 42.
So it begins! And gods, what a boring time the setup period is. People need to have their covers accepted, their presence known but unwatched, and their ability to act will not come without the first two being firmly established. It will take time, but hopefully at the end of this, this will be of use. Will Complete In Two More Turns.
Investigate The Stewards: Now that you've got your people properly set in Hochland, you can use them. And you need to know what these stewards are truly about. Of course, the province has functioned well enough that the Emperor, who surely would know by now, hasn't seen fit to tell them one way or the other. Or perhaps he doesn't know well enough. It's a dangerous line of thought, you know, to simply assume that you know better and should decide matters, but hopefully it is not a slippery slope that you will fall down. All you need to know is that Theodoric Blaschke and Jurgen Ditezen aren't letting their squabble negatively impact the Empire too badly. Hopefully they aren't. If they are, you could maybe speak to Ludenhof, if you ever manage to get a hold of him. It wouldn't look great for the province if the Emperor had to personally chastise them twice, and if it came out that you were responsible, you'd face anger from just about every sector of Hochland's citizenry. Out of besmirched pride, if nothing else. Cost: 1,000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Steward's Investigated. Information. Chance of Success: 70% Will Complete This Turn.
- Required: 30. Rolled: 33.
Well, it is confirmed. The two stewards of Hochland squabble as much as they like, with various endeavors to one-up one another, but neither are daring to do anything that might impact the overall stability of Hochland. Hochland's army still marches, doing regular patrols, and the two of them appear to have come to an agreement of ordering them about for half of the year each. The general in charge, a swarthy fellow named Gustav Briggs, helped organize this. He apparently got tired of them throwing money at him in an effort to make him do as they wished, actual loyalty to Hochland driving him to force them into making an agreement. The sheer quietness of the province apparently allowed you to miss the near military coup that General Briggs nearly enacted to make the two stop mucking about to such an extent. So in truth there is a third leader in Hochland, besides the two stewards. While they play their political games, General Briggs runs the military and keeps the peace going. Neither Theodoric or Jurgen have the forces to outweigh his own, and with Ludenhof wandering about it seems that Sigmar himself sent Briggs down to knock some sense into their heads. Unfortunately, Briggs himself is forced to curry favor from the two for supplies and barracks, depending on which half of the year it is, but otherwise seems remarkably competent at his job considering the circumstances. Part of you is happy about this, and part of you isn't. It isn't…perfect, and of course the ancestral thought of 'I could do better' which has floated up in every Hohenzollern's head about Hochland rears its head once more. But…you don't have any reasonable excuse to do something about it openly, let alone try to get the Emperor to do so. Magnus has far better things to do and prepare for. Reward: Steward's Investigated. Hochland Stability Enforced By General Gustav Briggs, Leader Of The Army of Hochland. So Long As Gustav Is In Power, Excesses Of Two Steward Situation Cribbed. Hochland Functional And Stable.
Personal: God's above, your family has been through too much. (LOCKED):
The Law Of Ostland: While you could not have imagined the delay it would take you to reach this point, you have at last, reached it. It is time to put your mind to use more than your blade, and shred away this insane wild tangle of laws, points of authority, agency, punishments, and more. It is a beast you are unfamiliar with, to be sure, one of paper and vellum and ink, but it is one that you will fight regardless. Ostland deserves better than that, and its people do as well. Might the nobles dislike how their authority may fluctuate as a result of what you do come up with? Perhaps. At the moment, you haven't put anything into place, and this is a private work, so there is nothing for them to complain about. For now, it is time to begin, sending out your feelers and servants across the province to bring every copy of every corner's legal code forth to you, that you may create a unified Ostlander legal code, rather than one that changes every few bloody feet outside of Wulfenburg! Cost: 1,000. Time: ??? Reward: Streamlined Unified Legal Code For Ostland Province. Will Complete In ??? Turns
- You've got a few books down, in terms of paper. But now you've got to go back and practice it in theoretical usage to see how it might flex and bend, or even worse possibly break. Work Continues…
The General Fist: Your personal steelfist worked out well for you. War fist, steelfist, ironfist, whatever and so on. Though yours was built as a personal prosthetic, the general idea behind it still interests you. You could just as easily try to make them more universally applicable, granting some of your troops at least a last ditch weapon. Sometimes you don't have the ability to pull for the boot knife, or draw your sword. Sometimes you have to rely on the oldest human weapon in existence, the fist. Or the foot, maybe, you're not supremely well-read in anthropology. But in this case, the fist. You just have to work on the design a bit, make sure that it is not too heavy, not too light, and not prone to having them cut themselves with the spade shape of the blade when they go to scratch their heads or balls. This is something you can do by yourself, at the least, rather than needing a team. And afterwards if it works out, you might be able to give your troops another weapon, which has literally never been a bad thing in your experience. Cost: 1,000. Time: 2 Years. Reward: Universal Ostland Hornfist design completed. Could add to almost all available troop types, granting one more last ditch weapon in case of emergency or opportunity. Small shield and stabbing/cutting implement in one, augmentation onto standard gauntlets. No weight issues, parrying possibilities for numerous troops. Will Complete This Turn.
Every man in Ostland usually carries a belt knife. So do most women. It is only practical, from hunting, farming, to slitting your own throat before the beastmen can come out of the woods and eat you alive. But there is more required. A multi-tool, sort of thing. Which the Hornfist does quite well. It can help dig trenches, it can help stab, it can help cut. And, given the quality of the things, a standard device which is of a quality that some men cannot afford in terms of knives. Plus, it lets you punch and actually do possible verifiable damage to the enemy! A minor shielding implement as well, a faint bit weightier than wearing nothing at all, but it works. A full buckler would cause issues, certainly, but even the archers can wear this and have a bit more protection without wearing them out in terms of carry weight. Plus, it has, strangely, become a sort of symbol amongst the soldiers. Almost…and you hesitate to use the word…fashionable. Flattery through imitation, Sabine tells you with a laugh, which in turn has led to your soldiers adopting them with no major friction with the addition of training to get used to the things quite well. Never has the phrase 'You mess with the bull, you get the horns' been more appropriate, apparently. Regardless, it is a simple upgrade, but one with benefits. Reward: Universal Ostland Hornfist design completed. Could add to almost all available troop types, granting one more last ditch weapon in case of emergency or opportunity. Small shield and stabbing/cutting implement in one, augmentation onto standard gauntlets. No weight issues, parrying possibilities for numerous troops.
Sidestepping: Some might consider it a backwards move to consider a catapult or trebuchet form of war machine. What with cannons existing. But, as the dwarfs and frustratingly the greenskins have proven, as well as the Bretonnians, such war machines are perfectly viable in this day and age. Cheaper and somewhat more reliable than cannons in some cases even. Far less prone to exploding, and wood is never so difficult to shape, purchase, and refine as metals. Comparatively at least. If you could make the payload worth it, then it would, simply be worth it. It's not quite a step back, nor is it fully a step forward, technologically. More of a shuffle off to the side, idly pondered and possibly brought into reality. But you can see it, you honestly can. Specially shaped containers of wood or metal, carrying…what, dwarf rotgut? The things that not even they can drink, the sort of things that can make one go blind. Hell, you could just take the runoff from the Bugman Brewery, set it alight, and have it erupt over the enemy. Or amongst them. Either way. It's something you can fiddle with on your own time, and if it turns out to work, then, hell it's something you can stamp your name on. Cost: 1,000. Time: 3 Years. Reward: New War Machine? Will Complete Next Turn.
- You've spent a lot of time going backwards, examining old catapults and the more modern Bretonnian trebuchet. The design is coming together, for launching terms, but the payload is where you must focus your efforts now. Everyone knows about the value of hot sands, oil, and perhaps even burning alcohol when dropped down during a siege onto attacks below. Perhaps that might prove a use? Will Complete Next Turn.
Blood Fane Choice
[X] Calling Outside: Your priests may be strong, and mighty, but they might not be enough. You've heard enough horror stories to know that challenging something like this in their esoteric realms could end in their deaths, torn apart by forces more powerful than they. You could request aid from the Cult of Sigmar or Ulric to send some of their more learned priests, perhaps even the Ar-Ulric or Grand Theogonist themselves…or perhaps not. You won't know until you do, but you won't have to risk your own people at the least. It will take time for them to be marshalled however, and in the meantime your troops will be otherwise tied down defending the site from reclamation. Communications To Cult Of Ulric And Sigmar To Bring In More Powerful Priests. Surety In Blood-Fane Destruction/Cleansing. Likely Retaliation Attempts For Longer Periods Of Time.
Fell Fane Felling
(Requesting Aid From Ulric: 88+20=108/100)
(Requesting Aid From Sigmar: 2+20=22/100)
(Waking Hordes: 50+15(Fane Untouched)+10(Marshalled Elsewhere)+10(Sky Scouting)+10(Amber Awareness)=95/100)
The first attack came on the very first day of the year, before you or your sons have time to get there. Luckily, for the first few waves, it seems you were unneeded. A motley band of gors, howling with fury in their eyes and a core of minotaurs goaded forward by their chieftain. Only a few hundred, they attempted to thunder down from the north and surprise your soldiers at midnight, frost still clinging to their fur coats as they came roaring out. Yet, you had seen them coming, thanks not just to your own scouts but the myriad mercenaries you'd hired this year. Thankfully, many of them were able to take water-based transport from Tilea, heading up through the rivers to you. The Taalites you've hired were especially useful, managing to blend in better than any of your regulars. The benefits of utter zealotry dedicated to the forests, you suppose. They heard the beastmen the moment they came out of their beast-path…wherever it was north of you.
The fact that the icy winter had helped mask their approach was not heartening, but the fact that you caught them and cut them down certainly helped keep the blood warm.
With the entire Army of Ostland present, there are enough men to keep up a constant triple rotation of alert soldiers, bolstered only more by the mercenaries. The slayers are more than eager for every fight or opportunity for a fight – to the point that they even volunteer to guard foraging parties who scour for additional supplies out of the forest. To the Hohenzollern Forest's credit, it provides combat just as they desire. Giant spider swarms, their territories reduced in the winter time, awaken as your soldiers tromp through. A rabid band of mutants with at least two extra sets of arms became literally insane when their perimeter – indistinguishable from the rest of the forest – was crossed. These and more became constant fights for the mercenaries. The Wolves and Hellions especially, who rarely actually pass back into the army camps proper. They prefer to make their camps in the forests themselves, remaining near entirely hidden to your own comparatively meagre senses – compared to, you suppose, an animal or elf. Considering the rather significant number of boomdiscs brought along with the Army of Ostland, they have to avoid the patches of earth where the things are buried. The beastmen, never having encountered the things before, run roughshod over them and are blown to bits again and again.
But more than even them, your greatest asset is also the most unusual.
The Whitewings.
Their accents were immediately recognizable as Bretonnian, thanks to your long experiences with Roland. But there were not distinct enough for you to pick out what dukedom, if any in particular, they all came from. But the vague aristocratic nature of their demeanor is, to your surprise, not entirely grating like you might have originally assumed. The destruction of a dark altar, guarding their fellow men from the depravities of beastmen? They throw themselves into their task eagerly. Oskana, for her part, is happy to fly with other beings, though she does seem to have some issues with recognizing them as not prey or not. You have to thump her more than once to get her to back off, and the Whitewings thankfully take her small bursts of aggression in good humor. And with them scouring the skies, even the tremendous overgrowth of the Empire's forests cannot hide things as they might have before.
Obviously, in certain cases, the canopy is too thick to see anything, but the range they can make per day and the times they can see through more than makes up for it. All of a sudden, the warherds are far more visible than they have been in quite a long time. Possibly ever in the Empire, now that you think about it. Then the Amber Wizards join in. Sometimes they are pegasi themselves, other times large eagles, and still others transformed Great Stags and Winter Wolves that stalk through the trees. Between all of your new specialized scouts, the pegasi riders, and the aid of the amber brotherhood, you have absurdly good advanced warning. Not least of which is because most beastmen purposefully scoff at traditional stealth, smashing through and crushing the nature around them to make their way.
Still. It is disheartening to see just how many beastmen can come to bear when they are truly incensed.
A thousand here, a few hundred more trying to attack foragers there, and dozens upon dozens of skirmishes between your forces and that of the enemy. The sheer number resulted in the complete and total exhaustion of every boomdisc that you had produced beforehand, leaving only bloody ruin and blackened earth in their wake. Some, Magnus repels with brave charges. Others, Arthur strikes down at the head of the Black Guard. Still others you come crashing down on from above from atop Oskana, who gleefully tears apart all who face her while Urgdug helps surround and crush them. At one point, a pair of cygors come stomping too close for comfort, apparently hungering after the wizards present. The Whitewings and yourself take care of that one, striking them in the heads and throats with lance and swipes of Brain Wounder. The sheer tactical usage of aerial combat speaks volumes to you, especially when a flock of harpies comes screeching out to try and feast upon the fields of rotting meat you've been creating. Or maybe they just saw something and wanted to kill it. The latter is a perfectly acceptable use for their misbegotten kind.
Slowly, but surely, the pressure begins to grow, in numbers and equipment, but at the least you can organize yourself accordingly. You even get to let Magnus in on the planning sessions, proposing and arguing over deployment and ambush with the rest of your officers. It does your heart good to see him do so. Near three decades of a hard life have passed for him, and he is only getting better. The Army of Ostland is seeing in him even more of a leader, and on occasion you can even let him run the war meetings while you are off scouting. At one point, of course, you must leave entirely, though it is only to help escort the Cult of Ulric's representatives.
Your letters had gone out to both cults the moment you'd made the decision, but in the weeks since, you had received only words of support and 'impending' aid from Sigmar's priesthood. They were preparing to do something in Sylvania, at the moment, as it turned out. You had simply called upon them at the absolute most inopportune time as they spread out to try and keep purifying the lands there. The Cult of Ulric, on the other hand, barely takes a month since the beginning of the year to reach you. A large column of White Wolves and Ulrican priests ride their horses hard to get through the paths of the Middle Mountains – alternatively newly carved by Middenland or crafted earlier by yourself – and straight down near Wulfenburg to meet you.
===============================
"Frederick!"
"Ar-Ulric Lo-gah!"
The Ar-Ulric himself greets you in a bear hug, nearly lifting you off your feet as he wraps his large arms around you in a creak of leather and metal. Logan Kron was already older than you when you fought in the Vampire War, by now his formerly vibrant red beard has become shot through with grey, but in terms of vitality he seems entirely unchanged. Without the direness of your son's situation that previously brought you to him, he is a substantially jovial fellow, happy to clap his hands on the back of fully armored White Wolves and nearly send them sprawling with each guffaw-laden blow. Over his back is an axe that actually drips frost, while he himself rides atop a simply magnificent example of a winter wolf, whose slavering jaws oddly mirrors the effect of his axe. Heavy furs are piled on top of a heavy suit of armor, but that does not catch your attention as much as what all of these templars and priests have been escorting.
"You…took the Flame of Ulric out of the mountain?"
Sitting just outside the walls of Wulfenburg is the mobile…thing that is still being pushed forward by a dozen sweating men stripped to their waist. In terms of construction, it is almost like a battering ram set up, the wood and metals of it bent and shaped to provide as much protection to its pushers as possible. Yet on the outside it is covered in spikes, sharpened blades, and more. Almost like a flattened porcupine…if the quills were spears and blades and hooks. Nearly a cousin of the steam tanks, only this one seems to rely on muscle power rather than steam. A significant portion of it is a massive brazier which contains, yes, a large silvery blaze which flickers oddly even as you watch it.
Yet even as you voice the thought, you know it was a foolish thing to consider. As far as anyone knows, you actually can't move the Flame of Ulric. But you can, apparently, create children of it.
"Haha! Yes! From a certain perspective, we did," Logan nods, teeth bared in a happy grin. "Had enough of those Sigmarites crowing about their precious war altars. Decided to make one of our own. True men of Ulric will fight with His Flame at their backs for once!"
A large number of the Ulricans around you begin to hoot and howl as they thump their feet. Those of the elite Teutogen Guard are joined by their wolf mounts.
"I don't see a preaching platform," you note, jabbing him slightly with your shoulder as you cross your arms and examine the thing more closely.
Logan just snorts.
"I'm not the Grand Theogonist, Frederick. Ulric's favor will find us in the fight, but his Flame will strengthen us as we do so!"
Then he clenches his fist, raising it to the sky, and you blink as you see a faint silver sheen erupt around it. Only for a minute, and then it is gone, but a casual display of divine strength is nothing to sneer at. You know that very well, by now. Even if it had to be beaten into you. After a few seconds of quieting down the rest of his howling fellows, Logan turns back to you, his boisterous voice turning gravelly and low as he leans in.
"Now, I hear there's a disgusting altar to the Dark Gods in these woods. It's still Winter. It is still Ulric's time. So let us see what He has to say about it."
From there, you are able to guide them along the roads before taking the hacked path towards the Blood Fane itself. Based on reports from the many priests there, as well as the jade and amber wizards, the damn thing seemed to recognize what was coming. Nightmares became common amongst the soldiery, only stopped by Arthur and his own priest's works, safeguarding the minds of men as they slumbered. This time he caught it early, knowing it for what it was, a similar maddening and mutating effect as what had been spread before. But the very ground itself became a problem, a continual and supernaturally powerful stink of charnel flesh, scorched bone, and the immediate aftermath of battle causing extreme morale issues. No one, save perhaps vampires, the mad, and the damned, could suffer the stench of cloying blood and sourceless screams for too long.
But this time, you took something with you. Oskana was very unhappy with the weight, but at the least, she could handle it. Sort of. If she held it with both arms. So she only carried it for a bit before you ended up having it loaded on the carts with the rest of the supplies the Ulricans brought. Oskana, on the other hand, ended up laying on top of you for an hour to show you the difference between 'capable' and 'willing'. Because, yes, you can lift her up slightly if she holds herself on your shoulders, but your thighs weren't meant for that sort of continual punishment. After a feast of several cows, however, she thankfully forgave you and let you ride her into the skies once more.
Of course, the beastmen do not simply wait around. In the time it takes you to get back to the Blood Fane, the slayers have finally begun to take casualties. Significant ones. To be sure, they throw themselves into the fray in front of everyone else, dealing out tremendous amounts of death before they finally falter, but falter they do. Even a dwarf slayer falls when impaled over a dozen times through one end of the body and out the other. They also die when one of the worst things in existence is properly awakened by the drums of the beastmen and comes screaming out of the forests. One of the things you, personally, have never fought in life is known by one word. Jabberslythe. The slayers died killing it before the sheer madness its very presence induces could spread too far. Even then, some of the Hoarfrost Hellions had to put down their newly insane fellows as a result. Then came another. Then another, always accompanied by bursts of beastmen from the forests, first attacking from one angle and then another.
Their numbers were growing. From hundreds of miles of uncharitable forest, the beastmen of Ostland seemed rather fully roused. Given the reports you received from some of your mercenaries, beastmen outside of Ostland were beginning to come as well. On the brighter side, when you asked to increase the pace, the Ar-Ulric simply laughed at you and cajoled his column to do so without question. Thankfully, out of battle the Flamefang – as it is apparently named – can be hauled by horses. In battle, of course, the horses would be absurdly vulnerable, and so it will rely on the men within to push it forward. You often flew ahead to scout, and eventually you made it there right as another battle was beginning. This time a pair of bray shamans were ordering forward horrible swarms of razorgors and tuskgors on one side while a pack of ghorgons howled against the other of the Army of Ostland. All the while, the Blood Fane remained in the center.
It had changed in the time you had left. Magnus' and Arthur's reports did not do it justice.
Where before it had been a dark obelisk of stone, struck through with spikes and stained in the rust of uncountable deaths, now it visibly glowed with crimson streamers more akin to the lightshows sometimes seen over Norsca than anything else. A palpable aura of dread surrounded it that chilled your blood on sight while the chains implanted into its frame glowing with infernal and sourceless heat. Most worryingly, every priest in the Army of Ostland has surrounded it at a distance greater than the former perimeter. Mostly because they can't get any closer. The ground at its base has become a murky froth of somehow constantly churning blood and dirt. Priests of Sigmar, of Ulric, of Taal, and of Morr surround it, each screaming themselves hoarse as they pray to keep it from doing…something. And evidently, they are just barely succeeding. Half-formed things keep trying to crawl upwards and out into the material realm, before Urgdug personally reaches down and smashes them apart with a club.
Your return, atop a screaming Oskana, is heralded by cheers and renewed vigor amongst your soldiers.
The raucous charge by the White Wolves, eager to get some combat for themselves against the rear of the ghorgons, is received even better.
But what is truly heartening is their response to the sight of the banner granted to you by Karak Kadrin. It is mounted high atop Urgdug's back, his armor and strength more than mighty enough to heft it freely. The cheers that greet the gromril glinting in the wan sunlight are practically riotous.
You are not known for a weak stomach. Yet getting closer to the Blood Fane, you find that you have to force yourself to continue on. Revulsion forces its way into you, on sight and as the distance closes, in greater and greater quantities. You have to grit your teeth as you approach, but you manage it. Vaguely shimmering air surrounds the entire Blood Fane, all the while the priests cry out a constant chorus of prayer and beseeching to the powers of their Gods. For now, it's working, and for now, the beastmen have been beaten back, but you have no idea how long you have.
"Ulric's beard, Frederick, you weren't kidding," Logan sucked at his teeth as he came closer than you deigned to.
Behind him, the Flamefang is brought closer as well. You had to remove the horses, for they were nearly killing themselves trying to get away from it, but the men within are made from hardier stuff. Or maybe it is the fact that an honest to goodness child of the Flame of Ulric is burning just above them. It certainly warms them enough that beards, boots, and pants are more than enough to keep them warm in winter. The silver blaze roils in its brazier, yet almost seeming to burn fiercer as it senses its own threat. Where the Blood Fane spews madness and blood, the Flame of Ulric's child growls in its brazier so badly it seems to shake the entire construction built to contain it.
"This is old," he continues, eyes narrowed. "And strong."
Strong enough that, perhaps, you might have lost every priest you had trying to destroy or purify this thing otherwise. For surely you could break it apart with enough cannons, or something. But the shards of it would still be tainted. No, every single part of this thing is…wrong. Not one piece of it can be allowed to leave this clearing in such a state.
"Can you do it?"
Logan just huffs at your question, glaring at you with one eye closed.
"Ulric's will is that the dark things of the world such as this are to be fought. Always," he growled.
An eyebrow raises before you can stop it.
"That's not the answer I was looking for," you drawl, the bemusement remarkably good as a balm against the vile presence of the Blood Fane.
"We'll, I suppose we'll have to see, won't we," he shrugs, cracking his neck from side to side as he does so, turning slowly so he can give a firm look towards all the priests who followed him from Middenheim.
There are quite a few. Some are…lesser priests, at least in terms of station, while others clearly bear the marks of their high priests. For goodness sake, even High Priest Siegbert came. The somewhat portly Ulrican came bounding out of his temple in Wulfenburg to make his respects to the Ar-Ulric and ended up being swept up in religious fervor to follow with his own smaller cadre of White Wolves. There are quite a few. Each bears their own weapons, wolf furs, and so on. All seem rather stuck between either exalting the Flame of Ulric or the Ar-Ulric. Or both. As he begins to organize them, you are approached by another person entirely.
"You the Count?" The remarkably rotund looking dwarf woman says as she glances up at you, hands on her hips.
She is absolutely wreathed in gold and jewels, thick bangles, circlets, ringed bands, earrings, and more. Even her face is rather pierced by studded rings along the eyebrows, nose, and lips.
"I…am," you blink down at her. "You would be…Aleena Bittersteel?"
The laugh that is her initial answer is raspy, her head thrown back enough that you can see the slash scars around her throat as thick as rope. Even her teeth are each individually gold-capped or entirely replaced by the stuff.
"Hah! How'd you guess? I mean, of course you're right, but still."
You shrug, glancing at the piled dwarf weapons in the wagon behind her. All are clearly of dwarf-make. Some are even rune weapons. That, plus an absolutely ghoulish amount of torcs and the like that you know you have seen on slayer bodies before.
"Just lucky I suppose."
Her laughter stops as she catches your look over her head, and turns into a purposefully blank line.
"They sign the contract. They know what they're getting into. I bring them good deaths. Nothing else matters," she says flatly. "Nothing else."
Something deep inside of you, dusty and twisted, tilts slightly in your soul.
"And they're all dead anyway, so what does it matter, hmm?" You can't keep the disapproval out of your voice.
"Correct," is her only response. "Besides, you're good for business, Hohenzollern. The more death I can find for them, the more they come to me, the more money I make. Pleasure doing business with you."
By now, every slayer in her company is dead. They exacted quite a toll, to be sure, slaying monsters that mere men would quail from. But a hundred dwarfs are dead, their bodies looted by their own employer. Other mercenaries took casualties, but only one was wholly wiped out. Only one was treated like this by its own master. And for some reason, that makes you mad. Beyond the general unhappiness of seeing such a thing. But what are you going to do? Go against her own signed contracts, that they agreed to? There's no point in it. But there should be something you should say. Something, but you don't know what.
(Fires Of The Deep: 73/100)
But you do hear drums.
"By Gazul's Blade, you dishonor Grimnir's Sacrifice. When He finds you in the Dark, beware His Grudge."
The words spill out of your mouth before you even know what they mean. Bittersteel, on the other hand, recoils as if she was shot, stumbling backwards against the wagon containing the wealth of the dead. Suddenly there is a strange dirty filth in your mouth, forcing a cough out of your suddenly clenching lungs to release some sort of thinly spread cloud of dust that dissipates as quickly as it arrived. Grey as bedrock stone. Her face is a rictus of horror, and she stumbles away from you the moment you take another step forward, hands going up to try and ward herself from you or something. She turns and flees, outright running from you with the jangling of her jewelry. She moves so quickly that you find yourself locking eyes with more dwarfs, ironbreakers, who watch you in silence. They don't even appear to be breathing before turning as one and walking away.
"Father," Arthur's voice brings you out of the fugue, his hand on your shoulder spinning you around. "What was that?"
For a moment, he is not your son. He is High Priest Hohenzollern of Morr. Some form of black filmy substance covers his eyes.
"I don't…know," you tell him honestly.
It is distinctly strange for him to examine your teeth and face like some sort of prize horse. Not to mention the oddly lukewarm flicker of sensation that travels from the tips of his fingers into the rest of your body.
"IN ULRIC'S NAME! HRAAAAGGH!"
There is a sudden explosion that sends you and Arthur sprawling, chips of white hot metal slashing across your skin. One rather long shard strikes you straight through the cheek and out the other. The pain stings but the surprise is more important. You and Arthur help each other up both glancing over to see a rather put out looking Logan Kron, his red and grey hair blown black with soot. The rest of the priests had already skittered back, leaving him the closest to the Blood Fane above all others. The shattered haft of some weapon or another still smokes in his hands.
"Logan!"
Ulric's highest chosen priest just shrugs at you.
"It was worth a shot. Now it's time for the hard way. BRING THE FLAME OF ULRIC CLOSER!"
=====================================
Bittersteel never returned to exchange words with you, nor to re-acquire the wealth of her dead employees. Apparently she turned to hiding out in the supply train amongst the other non-combatants and camp followers. You don't have much time to question it either. Because the moment that the Ar-Ulric actually begins a more proper ritual than simply trying to break it with a warhammer, there is a physically present pulse of unholy energies that spills from the Blood Fane. Many of those around are knocked to their feet once more, save for the Ar-Ulric and several of the Ulrican High Priests. Arthur stays standing, for one, but everyone else is rather busy elsewhere. Specifically, listening to a suddenly angry forest.
From every direction around the clearing surrounding the Blood Fane, you can hear it, the entire forest comes alive with unnatural fury. Howls and hollers, guttural growls and bestial roars. Even the thundering feet of larger creatures. In moments, you are air born atop Oskana, joined in the air by the Whitewings and a flock of giant eagles whose fetishes and unnatural whorls give truth to their wizardly nature. Down below, Magnus orders the troops into renewed defensive lines with the aid of the White Wolves, while Arthur turns to the Blood Fane with the rest of the priests. They begin to pray and join in, supplementing the Ar-Ulric. Thankfully he ordered the White Wolves out to accept both your and Magnus' operative command authority, so they do not simply remain around the Blood Fane.
(Awoken Hordes: 76+10+10-10(Blood Fane Under Threat)=86/100)
(Ulric's Will: 96+15(Flame of Ulric)-10(Ancient Evil)=101/100)
Gors. Ungors. Bestigors. Minotaurs. Ghorgons. Doombulls. Bray Shamans. Harpies. Even howling herds of centigors. Cygors screaming in joy at finding prey they can verifiably see. All these and more come out of the woods of the former Forest of Shadows. How many are Ostland-born, and how many came from elsewhere, you can only speculate. The fact that you know it is possible for portals to grant them travel, even if they can only be constructed by their greater magic users – you hope – means that you literally can't assume anything about their force deployment capabilities. Either in terms of quality or quantity. But you plunge into it all the same, wetting Brain Wounder with the blood of a dozen abominations in less twenty seconds. Oskana does twice as much damage in the same amount of time. Though, to be fair to yourself, she has two more combat viable limbs than you and a beak that can bite through plate mail.
Down below, the Ar-Ulric lifts his arms high, one wielding his axe and sweeping it back and forth as if it were lighter than air. With each movement of his weapon, the silver flame atop the mobile altar sweeps and twists like it is alive. And, at the climax of one downward strike, there is a crackling spread of frost and ice that suddenly freezes the frothing earth around the base of the Blood Fane. All of a sudden, the unholy movement ceases, and one last abominable thing that nearly makes its way out into your realm dies – flash frozen and shattered into a thousand pieces. The Blood Fane shudders in place as ice begins to creep up the chains that still burn with incandescent heat. And yet the ice does not melt.
The Army of Ostland itself is in a circle formation, and with today on fields of snow and ice they deliver death. Three thousand handgunners fire once, as nearly that number of archers nocks and fires as many times as they can. Holes open up in the formation to allow the cannons to be let loose, firing rending blasts that slaughter entire ranks of the enemy before they can even get within pike distance. Sliding slates of metal announce the shifting of the pulverizers so that the maelstrombringers and thunderbringers behind them can fire through the temporary gaps. Three thousand bullets, over seven thousand arrows, and one hundred thirty-five cannon balls do an absolutely horrific amount of damage. Even to such rampaging hordes. Then all twenty bird bomber flocks release their charges, successfully even, with accuracy. Such sheer explosive power is awe inspiring, especially seeing it from above. What you can see of it in between momentary stabs and slashes on the harpies, blocking their own screeching attacks, at least.
Oskana squawks as she is buffeted by red winds, blowing into the air with such force that even the Whitewings struggle to remain on their mounts for a moment. The Flame of Ulric recoils in its place, the ice seeming to melt over the chains somewhat before struggling to refreeze. The weakening coincides with a resurgence from the beastmen. Many of their strange sorts are only incensed by the sheer amount of blood spilled, even though the vast majority is their own. A dozen minotaurs are driven utterly mad, striking aside pikes and throwing swordsmen yards away. It is the Hoarfrost Hellions that plug the gaps made, driven to even greater heights of zealousness with the presence of the Ar-Ulric himself. Berserkers of the olden days, granted life once more, that come charging in to throw themselves against the minotaurs. The regular gors and ungors, the pikemen can handle, especially with ogre support, but minotaurs are no mere beasts. They can be run through again and again without falling.
You do not see as the Hellions fall, one by one, because you are assaulted by something that comes bounding up out of the forest with something mixed between a yowl and all too human scream.
(Vile Presence: 78+10(The Drums)=88/100)
"Sigmar's balls!"
Oskana is forced vertical as she is assaulted by a slimy quadruple horned beast, its very appearance tearing at your eyes so badly as they avert themselves that you feel blood trickling down your cheeks. Her claws rend and tear, all four of them, wings beating desperately to maintain altitude as the jabberslythe clasps against her. A thump from its mace-like tail comes up to slam against the small of her back but thankfully she's more durable than that. God's above, the stink, the sensation, the very feeling of it being so close to you is an assault on every sense you possess, a cloying disgusting taste flooding your mouth with every breath. Visions of horror and things you cannot even properly understand assail your mind with every blink of the eye.
(Aerial Combat: 5+19(Martial)=24/100)
It is something you are entirely unfamiliar with, fighting something Oskana's size while being on top of her. The way she twists and moves, even with all the straps and ropes, is something near incomprehensible to you. Worse, the jabberslythe seems eager to get at you in particular. The way it claws and wraps its unnatural body around Oskana makes that more than obvious. But at one point, Oskana twists, enabling her to slam its wing into its head, but simultaneously allowing its claws to reach out and shred through the bindings that keep you on her. Just like that, in the passage of one second to the next, you are falling back and downwards through the air. Then, something worse happens.
Because its tongue is lined with fangs.
You know this because the moment it is able to disentangle its head from Oskana, you are caught by it stabbing out and biting into your chest, teeth writing with suckers emerging from the meat of it to better impact into you. A scream makes its way out of your mouth as it draws you in with impossible speed. Its waiting maw widens with a cracking of bone and tendon to accommodate you, with all of a second passing before you are drawn in. Its normal teeth are jagged sharpened things, the stench of its innards nearly making you black out simply on close contact. A solid crunch of its maw brings said things down on you, as well as a great many more which protrude out of the roof of its mouth and come down on you to stab into your armor and body further.
(Keeping A Grip: 43+19=62/100)
(Slaying A Form Of Madness: 97+19=116/100)
A wordless scream escapes your throat as you tighten your grip around Brain Wounder. This is not Karak Ungor. This is not a squig. This time, you're going to kill it and get out without nearly dying. Whether or not the jabberslythe is smart enough to realize that you are cutting it apart from the inside in time or not doesn't matter. Within seconds you have sliced off its damn tongue, cut open its lower jaw, and slammed your runefang up through the top of its head. Roaring as you reach out through the gore to grasp one of the horns and pull yourself free, you manage one last cut before Oskana snatches you out of the sky and leaves the rest of the corpse to fall down to earth. Your gryphon squawks and folds her wings beneath her, diving straight down, unfurling them for a moment just enough so that the two of you are not slammed into the dirt.
Instead she just drops you down before beating her wings again to regain altitude.
You don't even realize that its blood is melting parts of you until there is a bright flash of green around your neck.
(Major Wound Sustained! Light of Summer Activates: 65/100)
As for yourself, you roll into a heap at the foot of a gromril boot. Groaning, you unfurl yourself and steadily get up to your feet with aid from a proffered hand. Said hand happens to belong to one of the so-called Stonesouled. Their expression is completely inscrutable, the normally fearsome snarls worked into their helms missing entirely. If anything, the expressions forged into them are rather oddly blank. A not inconsiderable amount of your own melted skin and muscle – mixed with a not inconsiderable amount of your armor – sloughs off onto the ground, a pulse of green accompanying the regrowth.
"Hell of a thing up there, Count Hohenzollern," he says to you in guttural Khazalid.
Then he turns away and begins marching over to one of the lines.
"Father!" Magnus comes rushing up to you on a horse, his hammer and armor liberally splattered with the gore of the enemy. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. My loyal mount saved me," you growl, glaring up at the accursed creature as it goes flapping off to begin assaulting another group of harpies. "Get me up and let's get back into the fight."
A crack appears in the Blood Fane, the stone itself splitting as if hewed by some monumental axe blow straight through the top. Around the edges of the scar grows pure white ice, tendrils of it sprout out in a lightning pattern around the stone. It is accompanied by the Flame of Ulric nearly exploding out of its brazier, increasing in size and intensity. Perhaps incensed by the continuing success of the God of Winter's chosen, the beastmen continue their rush. By now, they carpet the grounds surrounding the Army of Ostland in their own bodies. But still they come. Green thorn vines come ripping from the earth around bray-shamans, while larger creatures are skewered by pikes, blown apart by cannons, or simply shot apart. But more, and more come. The Hellions keep fighting, laughing and calling to Ulric all the while. The Bull Warriors begin to sally forth and reinforce crumbling position. The Black Skulls, who have been in your employ for some time simply plug another gap where your men were beginning to bend, letting themselves become a shield of meat, steel, and bone for those being pulled back for healing. Even the Chargers dance their horses dangerously close to the rear of your own shield and pike walls, firing arrows at a constant punishing pace.
But the ones who truly show their worth are the mercenary pikes. The Scorners go forth, spitting insults so fierce that it makes your ears feel like they're being melted all over again. In another area, the legendary Leopard Company show just why they are regarded as such. Yet even they take casualties, such are the numbers that are coming forward. In moments you yourself are thrown in, plunging in to reinforce the lines as Magnus does the same. At some moments you surface, bellowing orders for resupply and refreshing ranks to keep exhaustion levels down. Others, you focus just on killing as many as you can. Magnus joins you, and between the two of you there is little that can face his hammer and your blade at the same time. But it doesn't mean that you can hold back the entire warherd facing you alone.
"Reset, reset! Shift shieldwalls on my order!" You bellow above the din.
"White Wolves forward, prepare for charge! Thunderbringers, set yourselves!" Magnus roars from behind you.
As one, the shieldwall splits down the middle, pikes over shoulders insuring the swordsmen can keep themselves from collapsing entirely. A resounding series of detonations fly through the gap, the ogres hefting their cannons into position faster than standard cannons could be wheeled about. The initial amount of shock is enough to allow the cavalry forward. The White Wolves are more than happy to plunge into a suddenly reeling sector of the foe, while elsewhere, Black Guard and Raven Knights do the same. The North Star also show their own strength, eager to show that they are just as good as those who are more famous. Hundreds and hundreds of knights, boring gaping holes into the enemy, supported behind by the light cavalry who ensure that those who survived the cannons and heavy charge do not live long. The handgunners fire again and again, the archers arcing their shots whenever a opening is not presented for them to immediately fire through. The bird bombers fly once more, refitted with new explosives, while the Whitewings themselves dive down to break up any growing knots of organization they can spot. Occasionally, bright amber spears will appear from the trees, from the beasts in the sky, and even from the midst of the lines, striking at bray-shamans and the greater beasts.
At one point, a crackle of foul lightning spews from the mouth of one, only to suddenly fizzle out and dissipate the moment it gets close to Urgdug. In that same moment, the banner held on his back seems to flare with runic light. You swear you can hear the satisfied chuffing of a dwarf runesmith in the distance at the sight of it. They always do enjoy grounding out magic. Did. Do? You might have taken a head strike at some point, but for some reason your helm feels largely untouched. Regardless, the Ironhorn Banner more than works. You swear that you see whole swathes of men suddenly stiffen their postures, tighten grips over weapons, and reset stances as Urgdug carries the banner back and forth. At one point, when Urgdug passes by you, cannon held over his shoulder to fire over the heads of your lines, you feel an immense yet comforting heat flare up into your inner being. It banks back down to embers as he moves away, but its remnants remain even then.
Something akin to a wolf's howl, magnified a thousand times beyond what should be possible by any natural means, cuts through the din of the fighting entirely. It drowns literally everything else out, save for the faintest sounds of rock cracking and collapsing. An all-encompassing cold wind spills out, striking you in the back and seeming to wreath everyone present. But instead of bowling you over, it seems to prop you up. A surge of strength returns that you didn't even know you were missing. Opposite you, the beastmen are seemingly frozen, their fury and insane bloodlust stoppered in an instant. Even the bestigor whose hot entrails are spilling out over your forearm stops struggling, not out of realization that the damn thing really is dying, but rather something else. The churning snow slush of mud and blood all around your feet has refrozen back into harsh packed ice.
Then a dismayed wail begins to be heard, all around you, as the smallest of the beastmen turn away, immediately fleeing as their basest instincts take over. Cannons fire again, already lit beforehand, and kill more of the larger creatures, toppling a cygor halfway back into standing position after it pulled a massive boulder up from the ground. Handgunners and archers refuse to cease, in fact the vast majority of all the Army of Ostland – veterans of Karak Ungor – keep pushing forward. Mercilessly, they stab and cut, pike and sword, great weapons and halberds. The carnage continues for several more seconds before more of the beastmen begin to turn away. It is the beginning of a flood. They turn, beginning to run, in greater and greater numbers. Some of them, too lost within the so-called 'bloodgreed', fight back, uncaring that the vast majority of their support is gone. Volleys take down those who turn their backs as well as those who stand to fight.
And then it is done. Those who can track and chase, do so as best as they can, but the battle proper is over.
And the Blood Fane is done. A few minutes later, you and various other officers and priests are assembled around where it once stood. The ice has completely swallowed the entire thing, growing so opaque as to completely obscure what lies within. Even the chains, once burning so hotly with infernal heat, have cooled. Forcibly. The Ar-Ulric is on his knees, still chanting beneath his breath, while the Flame of Ulric remains burning as bright as it did when it arrived. But even then, as you watch, the ice begins to melt. But there is nothing left underneath. The chains melt down into the frost coating the ground around the base, as if they had become ice to be shattered, no sign of the cursed metal that once remained. The miniature glacier which had formed around the Blood Fane then cracks apart as well, flaking into pieces. Of the rusted stone within, so lathered with blood, near calcified with the fluid for so long? That too, is gone, overtaken by Ulric's presence which has so completely blanketed this place. As the ice crumbles away, there is only purest winter's remains now. In the very center, where the Blood Fane once stood, is now a pile of ice where the slightest flicker of a silver flame can be seen. Burning faintly, but brightly, without the ice even hinting at melting away.
Logan huffs and turns to look at you, chest heaving and cheeks red from exertion.
"Ulric's Will has been done here," he intones loudly, his hands raised to the sky. "Sanctified in war, in winter, with his wolves bloodied!"
Then he scrambles up to his feet, able to point his axe straight to the north, just as a pile of skulls once did. Beside him, his massive wolf comes to help keep him propped up, her maw dripping with the blood of beastmen.
"IN HIS NAME, YOU BASTARDS! ULRIC STANDS SUPREME HERE, NOT YOU!"
A bolt of thunder and red lightning which hacks its way through the sky above and in front of you towards the north, nearly bleeding your eyes out of their sockets. Much of the spilt blood surrounding the battlefield surges suddenly before falling back inanimate. In a few horrible cases, some even comes out of the bodies of those who are still living but wounded. The Ar-Ulric, for his part, barely seems to notice. Instead, he just tilts back his head and howls, the sound of a wolf emerging from his all too human throat. It is a call picked up by the rest of the animals nearby, horses whinnying angrily, White Wolves screaming too, a guttural yell which is picked up by all present. A handful of men are deafened by Urgdug joining in, while the rest of the Army of Ostland begins to scream as well.
And you are struck by a memory.
Of how horrified the rest of the tribes were, in the Empire, as thousands of men, women, and children died. Norsii men, women, and children. Who had nearly exterminated the Udoses, your tribal ancestors, but had been killed in such numbers that the stories say that they covered the coast from one end of the horizon to the other. And how the Udoses, so harmed, for so long, had howled with joy for an entire day and an entire night. How long has the Blood Fane been here? How much blood of how many Ostlanders has been spilled here in the name of the Gods the Norsii worshipped then and worshipped now? Too many.
So now you howl, with the rest of your men, in Ulric's name, who along with Taal and Manann were the gods of the Udoses then, and the Ostlanders now.
Results:
Blood Fane Utterly Destroyed By Ulric's Power. Ground Sanctified Thoroughly.
Cult of Ulric Has Constructed Its First 'Flamefang' - A mobile altar to Ulric, to embolden and empower his faithful, carrying a child flame of that which burns in Middenheim. A visible source of Ulric's power, now carryable throughout the realms. Construction/Sanctificaton/Transfer To Brazier Details Unknown.
Mercenary Groups Rendered Defunct By Battle: Hoarfrost Hellions/Viridian Wolves/Black Skulls/Bittersteels Bastards [Aleena Bittersteel Has Closed Company Charter, Departed Immediately To The Mountains]
Mercenary Group Casualties:
Leopard Company = 750 Remaining
Black Scorners = 250 Remaining
Knightly Casualties:
100 Infantry Knights Slain [North Star]
200 Mounted Knights Slain [North Star]
50 Infantry Knights [Bull Warriors]
150 Infantry Knights [Black Guard]
35 Mounted Knights [White Wolves]
Beastmen Casualties/Notes
Estimated 15,000~ Killed.
Five Cygors Slain.
Multiple Ghorgons/Doom Bulls/Minotaurs Slain.
Multiple Harpy Swarms Slain.
Multiple Bray-Shamans Slain.
Centigors Sighted. Centigor Casualties Light Before Retreating.
No Beastlord Sighting.
Beastmen Morale/Sense Of Purpose/Motivation Seemingly Heavily Linked With Blood Fane?
Only Target = Blood Fane, No Reported Attacks Elsewhere In Ostland This Year.
