Here we shall talk of more recent happenings.
First, Carcassonne:
Duke Huebald frowns, and exchanges a look with his wife, who nods. "We shall speak unrelatedly of other matters that we are pressed with, but nonetheless able to overcome with thanks to the Lady, so we need no mystical assistance with," she says. "To demonstrate the truth of our chivalrous nature, and so how worthy partners we would be."
"Iron Orcs," the Duke says. "Like Black Orcs, but with the armour set into their skin, bearing runes of the Dark Gods. They come from the mountains in greater numbers every year." You grimace at that. Though the greenskins almost always stay true to their native Gods of Gork and Mork, that 'almost' covers more than enough nasty examples to give any ruler cause for concern, and motivation to seek esoteric answers - even if their societal rules prevent them from saying so outright.
"As far as you are aware," she echoes. "As far as I am aware, too. But we would have to become much further aware for that to be a safe endeavour. And the effort of becoming so much further aware is effort that could be spent elsewhere - such as, for example, the Iron Orcs of the Irrana Mountains. But if you were to come to us with something more tangible than dreams, then perhaps we might be tempted." She gives you a parting smile and a little wave before she disappears back into the crowd.
Carcassonne is the southernmost Bretonnian Dukedom. Thanks to a special update, Carcassonne have developed fledgeling contacts with the Dwarves of the Grey Mountains. Currently, they are struggling against the Iron Orcs, a group of Orcs that have forsaken Gork and Mork and wield Chaos Armor. They would be glad to be rid of them, such that they would even consider contributing to the Waystone Project as a result.
The Canals are progressing in development. They are not finished, but they are certain to boost trade with the Southern Kingdoms such as Estalia and Araby. Some of Marienburg's interests are threatened by the canal, but not all, as evidenced by Arkat Fooger's opinion:
"So now you'll be able to row from Black Water to the Aver, so what?" Arkat Fooger, head of House Fooger and the only Dwarf on Marienburg's ruling council, says to you. "Marienburg isn't built on a single accident of geography. Idiots think Marienburg has a stranglehold on the Empire, but what difference does it really make that all sea trade goes through us? Bretonnian trade can as easily go through Helmgart as through us, Tilean trade already has the River of Echoes, the Karaz Ankor is half built on the Empire's borders and the rest could go through Black Fire Pass. If some idiot has bet their shirt on something like supplying Arabyan coffee to Averheim then they're sunk, but if that's the foundation of a family then they're already underwater. No, what this means is that for a few years a bunch of amateurs and dilettantes are going to try to undercut Marienburg by going through Barak Varr, and apart from a handful of goods from Estalia and Araby they'll find that Marienburg has more going for it than the Reik and most of the routes will be back through us in ten years."
"Not everyone from Marienburg seems to agree."
"Pfah, it's because they're manlings. Right and proper they put their elders in charge, but their elders have maybe a decade of living left in them, and they go whenever they go instead of when they're at peace with going. They feel Morr's breath on their neck, and it makes them as hasty as a beardling in a brothel. Things going back to normal ten years from now might as well be never for them, because it means that they'll be less rich for the rest of their lives. So they fret and moan and rattle their sabres until they do something stupid enough to get their hands slapped and remember they've got a lot more to lose than to gain."
"Stupid things such as...?"
He snorts. "I take it you're getting at that business with the mine on the river? I'd be happy to throw the de Roelefs under the boat since they're the ones that stand to lose the most from the canals, but truth of the matter is I haven't a clue. All I know is that if anyone had come to me with an idea like that, I'd have buried them myself and saved you the trouble. Things like this, the big problem is that you aren't limited to the few who might actually benefit, there's also all the people who are stupid enough to think they might benefit."
Khazrak One Eye is dead without Boris losing an eye:
"Damned slow it seems to me, but at what I'm told is a breakneck pace for Elves. One of their Houses has taken responsibility for the Ulrican faith among the Eonir and is building a temple to Him in their city, and the Graf couldn't be happier. This whole matter was an unexpected windfall after an already advantageous beginning - the Beastlord who he was pursuing into that swamp is one that he had faced before and taken the eye of, and ever since it seemed determined to avenge itself upon the citizens of Middenland. The timely intervention of the Eonir helped bring the matter to a close, where otherwise it would have just been one more bloody chapter in an already too-long saga."
Nordland is still mad at Laurelorn and Middenland but they can't do anything. Middenland and Laurelorn want to trade but have to wait for things to slow down:
"Oh, Nordland is still furious, and they keep nudging the Nordlander Ulricans into mumbling something condemning about it all, but honestly they got their hands caught in the cookie jar and they need to take their lumps and be thankful they're not getting what Drakwald got. The only real problem is where to go from here. They want to start trading and so do we, but they refuse to build a road through their swamp - can't blame them, considering how useful it was against the Beastmen - and the only other alternatives will piss off Nordland or Marienburg or both. So perhaps we just have to be patient and let things simmer down before we escalate things even further."
Stirland's condition:
"Gustav," you say as you approach the former Outrider and current Marshal of Stirland, clasping his arm in yours. The two of you didn't work together for long enough to quite call each other close friends in comparison to the relationships you'd built with Wilhelmina and Markus, but the two of you did fight alongside each other against the horrors of Sylvania. "How fares Stirland?"
"Well enough that I'm getting nervous," he replies. "One of the remaining Vampires now decorates the Grand Countess' mantlepiece, and the other has fled into the swamp and is being pursued by what seems like half the Battle Wizards in the Empire. Sylvania is once more ruled by Stirland in truth rather than just on paper."
"That is welcome news. What's to become of the administration thereof?"
"There's talk of establishing a Markgraf, but no firm details yet. Rumour has it that Baron Anton was offered it and was sensible enough to turn it down. It looks like the Black Guard are going to get the County of Tempelhof and Kasmir has been talking a lot about a local religious coalition getting control of the Barony of Mikalsdorf, but Waldenhof and Nachthafen are still untaken. The problem with Sylvania is anyone competent enough to stand a chance has much better offers from literally everywhere else. But we have to fill those seats or the Vampires'll do it for us."
You nod and commiserate with him for a while before moving on.
Sylvania is now free of major Vampire presence, and while a Markgraf hasn't been installed yet, Templehof now belongs to the Black Guard and Mikalsdorf now belongs the "Council of Manhorak:
The full 'council' seems to be of Manhorak and His sons: Bylorak, Fennorak, Darmorak, and Grimorak. General response seems rather confused, but nobody seems all that unhappy about a cult who's really into drowning vampires.
Edda has stepped down as Steward of Karak Eight Peaks as a result of pregnancy, and she is now officially married to Prince Kazrik of Karak Azul. The Steward to replace her is Viceroy Francesco Caravello of Karak Nar, due to his skills as a merchant and his trustworthiness as part of the Undumgi:
With Edda having established Dwarven industry so thoroughly, we have the opportunity to turn our attention to less traditional methods, so I'm going to make Francesco Caravello the new Steward when the time comes. There's going to be a lot of trade negotiations happening once the five passes are fully secured, and he has the knowledge and he's proven himself trustworthy.
There are also rumors of a new Overtyrant in the Mountains of Mourne, likely Greasus Goldtooth, which might have led to the migration of Ogres out of the mountain that emptied Uzkulak's stock of livestock:
And I want him keeping an eye on the east, too - there's rumours of a new Overtyrant among the Ogres, and that could really interfere with trade.
As such, Belegar has decided to look to the future with his Loremaster, and chose Okri Drakkison of Clan Bronzebeard, a promising young Engineer from Karak Norn, who comes from a splinter clan of K8P's former engineering Clan Stonebeard. His father is said to be a genius with steam and hydraulics, and that could do a lot for fleshing out the Engineering of K8P beyond flight:
"More or less. So if we don't have troubles today, we should lay in for the troubles of tomorrow. I've brought in a promising young Engineer named Okri Drakkisson of Clan Bronzebeard - Karak Norn's offshoot of Karak Drazh's Stonebeards, cousins to the Karak Eight Peaks Stonebeards."
"'Promising' and 'young' seem a bit less than what Karak Eight Peaks could have attracted," you observe sceptically.
"Aye, though I've heard good things about him. I'm hoping that through him I can bring in others from his Clan to refound the Karak Drazh Stonebeards, one more general in purpose than the modern Gyrocopter-focused Karak Eight Peaks Stonebeards. His father would be the real catch, he's said to be a genius with steam and hydraulics."
Here are some of Okri's ideas and plans for the future:
"Aye, and build I will. That Gotri does his best but his heart is in the sky, he's more familiar with a swashplate than an inclined plane. The way of the future is in Dwarf-portable weaponry, and Zhufbar's Drakegun is just the start. I had a few ideas to start with, but having seen some of the reading material you managed to nab from the former inhabitants of here, I've got much more than a few now. Been working with the manling engineers here, including that Zharrzhufokri of yours, and have been exchanging letters with the Gorlzhufokral to hammer out a few ideas. We refound Karak Eight Peaks Ironbreakers, give 'em something that holds real punch but can still be carried around, and pile 'em into those flying machines of Gotri's, and we'll be able to deliver a proper kicking to anywhere that needs it on a moment's notice."
You allow him to talk your ear half off about said ideas, including an entirely mechanical equivalent of the Ratling Gun, an explosive charge launcher based on Adela's design but not reliant on being carried by a Bright Wizard, and refinements to be made to the current Drakegun designs to extend their range and increase the damage inflicted upon those caught on the wrong end on them, before you thank him for his time and escape. He's clearly ambitious and seems to know what he's talking about, but you can't help but feel he might be biting off more than he can chew. You're intimately familiar with the inside of a Ratling Gun and the many insane yet inspired ways it exploits the nature of warpstone to function. Is there really any chance of a machine so portable as to be carried to be able to replicate its functioning? Surely not.
The High King has reactivated the Eyes of Grimnir and plans to retake Mt.Silverspear within the coming decades, his plans are to ensure complete Dwarven dominance over overland routes to the Far East:
"No more. For the first time in three thousand years, there is a Dwarfhold anchoring four of the five navigable passes through our mountains. If we had all five, we would be in a position to reach agreements with the Umgi nations to guarantee the safety of travellers and the vigilance against threats from the east, in exchange for a portion of the wealth that passes through our mountains and promises of mutual support against significant threats. But we cannot yet claim to rule the mountains that our Ancestors left to us. So in the coming years, mercenary forces from Barak Varr will work to secure the western approach to Mad Dog Pass, while Watchtower-Clans who have been living in the Grey Mountains for millennia will re-establish themselves in their ancient homes with every assistance from Karaz-a-Karak. And when sufficient forces have been gathered, I will personally lead an attack to retake Mount Silverspear and return it to the control of Clan Gunnisson. As we all know, it fell to the greenskins during the early centuries of the Time of Woes in what is now known as the Silver Road Wars. What few remember is that part of the reason it was lost is that an ancient wonder from the time of the Ancestor Gods that watched over the Silver Road was blinded by those tumultuous times.
"But now..." High King Thorgrim Grudgebearer spreads his arms, and each of the jewels inset on the walls begins to glow. "The Eyes of Grimnir will open once more." With a wave of illumination, an image projects from each one of the thousands of jewels, each showing a different part of a long, rocky road through the mountains. The images change after a few seconds, and then there's a low tone as one becomes framed in red light, and the image grows until it centers on a band of Goblins riding wolves along the road. Another tone sounds, and another image is framed in red, this time warning of a small group of Orcs on a mountainside peering over a rocky barrier at the road below. As more tones sound, the High King's smile grows. "That which is wrong with the world that we cannot fix with the blades of our axes, we shall surely rebuild."
King Byrnnoth in particular has plans for Mad Dog Pass, primarily hiring mercenaries to clear the way around the pass and take control over the Howling River to ensure that the Pass is taken care of with the use of minimal manpower.
People are most likely familiar with Mathilde's personal adventures, so I will not cover the Drycha and Alberich events specifically to a great degree. However, the adventures have granted some clues to different things that might be of note. First:
Near the border with Talabecland, you peruse an ancient structure too overgrown to identify that the Longshanks have chased cultists of the not-quite-forbidden but quite disreputable Goddess Dark Helgis out of several times in recent weeks.
This might be nothing, but just recently, Gehenna mentioned taking down a Cult of Styriss (illegal god of poachers) within Ostermark that were punching outside their weight class who were using Anath Raema runes. This might have some sort of connection. Or perhaps not. Something is odd in Ostermark.
Something is happening in around the area of Karak Ungor:
You consider Goblin bodies being fished out of the Talabec upstream of Bechafen, too battered and waterlogged to determine whether they are Forest or Night or regular Goblins and whether they originated in northeast Ostermark, southernmost Kislev, or in the World's Edge Mountains around Karak Ungor.
"And the Boyar of Fort Jakova has remained in Fort Jakova - unrest in the mountains, he says.
Goblin bodies drifting downriver and the Boyar of Fort Jakova indicating unrest in the mountains. Considering Fort Jakova's position around the headwaters of the Urskoy and its proximity to Karak Ungor, that implies something is occuring there.
Maneater is in the Empire:
You have an unnerving conversation with an uncharacteristically canny Ogre leading a group of his fellows in the employ of Ostermark, who appears surprisingly cooperative despite his sobriquet of 'Maneater' and tells you at length in heavily accented Reikspiel about the unusually large pack of giant wolves his Ogres had chased down, defeated, and consumed.
He has yet to make his name as a mercenary and cause the Ogre Mercenary renaissance that leads to them migrating westwards, but he has earned his nickname and might or might not be on the way to fame.
Sartosa infighting:
An uptick in traffic through Barak Varr, apparently as a result of more infighting than usual among the pirates of Sartosa.
According to the canon timeline, this might be because of Borgio the Besieger kidnapping the Pirate Princess of Sartosa and ransoming her. Or it could be something else.
Couronne and Wasteland conflict?
And rumours of unrest between Marienburg and Couronne, possible a reignition of the eternal question of where, exactly, the border between Couronne and the Wasteland can be found.
Drycha desired royal blood, so she sought Boyar Kalashnivik of Kislev for her goals:
"Boyar Kalashinivik of Resvynhaf. The Praag branch of that family was aligned with the Tzarina Kattarin the Bloody and were purged, but the Resvynhaf branch was spared. The Tsarevich and the Ice Witches are going to be investigating him to decide whether that was a mistake."
"It probably was if Drycha's after him. Either he has something that he shouldn't, or he has blood in him that he shouldn't. Royal blood is always potent, and magic doesn't care if it's human or vampire, Kislevite or Nehekharan."
"You think Drycha has her own agenda, rather than operating for Athel Loren as a whole?"
He gives you a strange look. "Of course, the same agenda she's always had."
"And what is that?"
He looks baffled. "How do you know Coeddil's name, but not- oh, did Laurelorn tell you about him?" You nod. "It makes sense that they would be a bit behind on things. Of its Treeman Elders, Athel Loren only has Durthu left, as Adanhu was killed and Coeddil corrupted by the endless battles against Morghur." He frowns. "Well, apparently endless. Are you sure it was him you saw up at Karag Dum?"
"I am, and so are the very many people that were also credited with my paper on the subject."
"Mm. By all accounts he's impossible to mistake for anything else. I do wish you'd been able to get some hard answers about what that was all about."
You manage to keep from bristling. "So do I, but my duty was to the Expedition, rather than my curiosity."
He nods. "Of course. No criticism intended. What was I getting at?"
"Coeddil and Drycha?"
"That's right. Coeddil attempted regicide, and was imprisoned somewhere within Athel Loren. Drycha has been scouring the continent for magical power ever since, in what we assume is an effort to free him. Many shrines and temples in Bretonnia and the Empire have been looted by her forces over the centuries, and the Amber Brotherhood have fended off several attacks by her on the Amber Hills. She fails more than she succeeds, sometimes by the efforts of defenders, sometimes due to being pursued by Athel Loren loyalists. But just like the one that corrupted her master, her nature grants her the privilege of coming back no matter how many times she is struck down, and every success takes her closer to her eventual goal."
The Ice Witches are to investigate the Kalashniviks to determine their loyalties thanks to a favor asked by Tsarevitch Boris.
Former Elector Count and Magus Alberich was planning on performing a ritual to prove his worth to the Chaos Gods that Mathilde interrupted by killing him. There are still mysteries to be uncovered regarding the incident, particularly regarding his accomplices and the nature of his empowerment:
There are still unanswered questions, of course. Though a number of groups that happened to be in the direction Alberich was headed are rounded up, they all prove to have innocent explanations for their presence, so if he had accomplices they've managed to escape and will now be laying very low indeed. You don't know where he was hiding out, and though it could have been simply a rented and flea-infested room at a tavern somewhere in the Ratholds, it could also have been something more elaborate, and if so is now one more hidden mystery among many to be found in the city's slums. And to the Longshanks, Alberich's identity remains a mystery.
There's also the question of Alberich's empowerment. Despite his severe injuries, Alberich only grew faster in the few minutes between the beginning of your encounter and its climax, and for a man to move with the sinuous grace of a lesser Daemon of the Tempter implies more attention than you'd expect the Dark Gods to pay to matters like this. You are also very aware that you had more company than that of Ranald on this night's work, and you don't mean your colleagues among the Longshanks. Perhaps you should not have given a wolf's howl with sword in hand while pursuing a Slaaneshi Magus through the streets of a holy city. That is an uncomfortable density of resonances, and you feel uncomfortably watched from multiple angles right now.
This is Mathilde's first clue to the Everchosen Tournament. This increased turbulence within the Chaos Cults might also be connected:
"The methods seem like the Violent, the pageantry of the Tempter, the echo of past events smacks of the Changer, and the mood this'd be inflicting on the rest of the Unfähigers rounds out the Four. There's been a fair bit of activity from that lot lately, and this is the sort of game They like to play."
[ ] Research: Underworld Turbulence
'A fair bit of activity from that lot lately' is not really actionable. See if anyone knows exactly what's got the Chaos cults of the Empire in a tizzy lately.
The conflict between Talabecland-Ostermark over the canals has apparently been settled, but a few sparks remain for possible exploitation:
"Thank you for coming," you say, as the magic conceals you from prying eyes. "I wasn't expecting you to be here so soon, though."
"I was up in Bek, keeping an eye on the biggest agitators for Talabecland-Ostermark conflict over the canals. A favour for Lady Magister Wilhelmine."
"I thought that business was settled years back?"
"It was, but there's a few sparks left. They'd usually go out on their own if left be, but we can't really trust the Empire's many enemies to pass up such an opportunity to sow discord, can we? So while there's even a hint of bitterness, it's best to keep a careful eye on the situation. But it can wait. What's the trouble here?"
Nuln's failed raid against the Skaven under their city, Clan Skab, has led to them increasing hostilities, which has led to Elector Count Konstantin to ask for Mathilde's help. Considering she refused him, he has likely found a replacement and is looking to deal with the problem:
"I always thought he was a story for children, chasing the rats through the street with his hammer. Anyway, apparently we've got Clan Skab under us, whatever that means."
You're glad you checked your books before setting out. "The nine most powerful Skaven Clans have a seat on their ruling Council. Clan Skab is one of them. They produce an inordinate amount of Stormvermin, the black-furred warrior caste, and train them to a higher standard than other Clans, and a lot of their wealth and influence comes from selling their services as bodyguards."
"So, none of the tricks with monsters and strange guns?"
"They probably do have them. That'd be what they'd spend their wealth and influence acquiring."
"Damn. Anyway, that's the score. You're good at killing rats, and we've got a lot of rats that need killing. You'll have all the resources of Wissenland behind you, and if you're like the Dark Lady and want to build a creepy tower, you can have the Iron Isle - it's the size of a city block but the Dwarves get annoyed if we try to do anything with it, but they like you, right?"
A few issues and projects of note within the Karaz Ankor:
"I'm sure Karak Vlag could use assistence in making sense of the world they've returned to." He thinks for a moment more. "Zhufbar has a nest of Fire Dragons in one of their upper halls that has resisted every conventional attempt to evict them. Karak Norn always has strange and mystical troubles of one sort or another. Barak Varr has some sort of plan for Sartosa, which was an outpost of theirs long ago, but in modern times has proven able to resist any conventional assault - and there's also talk about something in the Border Princes to stamp out the pirate problems, you might be able to help with whatever that turns out to be. Karaz-a-Karak might be meaning to take a poke at Mount Silverspear - when I met with the Grey Mountains Clans they let slip that they're apparently also in talks with Karaz-a-Karak. If that's the case, they'd probably need something novel to avoid it going the same way as the Silver Road Wars. The current Emperor is asking for Dwarven assistance in securing under-Ubersreik... and undoubtedly there's plenty more that I'd hear word of once the Karaz Ankor realizes that you'd be available to help out."
This is Aksel's own words regarding the condition of the Nordlander Hedgewise who reside within the Forest of Shadows, indicating that things have been going well for them as of late:
"It's good times for my lot," he says to you as you settle down. "Most of the Ostland Blessed are dead, which is unfortunate, but it means that their families are coming out of the east for protection, joining with us. Old families with a lot of old secrets and a lot of proven wisdom. And the business in the west has people a lot more willing to face the dangers of the Forest, and having a lot more respect for those that protect them from those dangers. Word is you've a part in that."
Mathilde's conversation with the We reveals that they are in a very good position and are considering splitting, and she's managed to convince them to try out splitting their nest into Kvinn-Wyr to serve as KAU's librarians at the cost of Gold-Food:
"I hear that you're considering splitting," you say to the spokesspider inside what you take to be a meeting room within its nest, as the floor is free of webbing and they have acquired a few battered chairs from somewhere.
"Sufficient food, very good many-food. Black-Crag-green-four-legs hunting is four-eighths sufficient, small-food is one-eighths sufficient, gold-food is three-eighths sufficient. Gauntlet-We will be closer to Black-Crag-green-four-legs, can hunt deeper into their tunnels. Could also hunt in old tunnels of the smaller-not-green-four-legs, or in the above. Different nest in different place, will learn different hunts. Gold-food means can spend much time learning without no-food."
The room goes silent as the constant background noise of the hive's activity goes silent, as the entire attentions of the We are focused upon this decision. "Split-We will try book-nest," it eventually declares. "If many-food continues, split-We will build We-nest in book-nest. Otherwise must no-food to Black-Crag-tunnel."
You smile at the warning. "That is acceptable."
"We will lay eggs for split-We. Will be ready for split in..." It takes a while to think. Above-ground timekeeping has not come naturally to the We. "Six-eights above-fire."
Six weeks, then. Thankfully, the base-eight thinking of the We translates easy to an eight-day week. "I will have the masons ready to build a chamber or chambers for their nest to their specifications, and I will organize trainers to teach them how to maintain a book-nest."
That last bit is easier said than done, but the reputation of a Dwarven King is a useful thing. You smile to yourself as you picture the announcement soon to be distributed to scholarly guilds and learning institutions throughout the Old World. 'King Belegar of Karak Eight Peaks seeks Loremasters and Scholars to train a colony of large and non-hostile spiders in librarianship...'
Mathilde's donation of the Organ Vat has resulted in the discovery of the Skaven's adrenal gland cloning process and furthering the medical knowledge of anatomy. It has also resulted in the discovery of cures for at least two conditions:
Unfortunately for you and me, but fortunately for the advancement of knowledge, one of them blabbed to the Physicians Guild, and now those buggers are running around giving it to everyone for everything. I can't get them to stop - might be there's not a power in the world that could get them to stop selling the latest nostrums - but I can bully them into telling me what they've found, and I have."
She opens a drawer and pulls out a notebook and flips through it until she finds what she's looking for, and continues on. "Drinking it does nothing but make the physician richer, as expected, but things get interesting when you're a bit more creative with it. Applied as a vapour has proven very effective as a tonic against croup and anhelitus, but when injected it causes the subject to feel anxious and jittery, of all things."
You consider that. "That sounds like a perfectly reasonable reaction to being stabbed by a physician, regardless of the substance involved."
"I tried it myself. The heart beats faster, the body sweats, the hands shake, fatigue is banished. Rather similar to the feeling one gets during a confrontation."
"Might this be related to the phenomenon of 'Black Hunger' among the Skaven?"
Mathilde's village is currently prospering with a new sheep breed being introduced for its fine wool and intelligence and Mathilde approving another Sheep breed well known for its milk for crossbreeding. The quest for the ultimate sheep begins:
You learn that the headsman you knew is still given the respect due to a headsman, but over the years the unofficial authority has unofficially migrated to his son, Rolf, your Steward for these lands. You find him older, more confident, and now with a flock of his own and several children, one of whom is named Mathilde. He leaps straight to business, showing you a trio of rams kept in a fenced-in area of pasture just outside the keep. "Estalian mayor sheep, m'lady," Rolf says. "Imported from Averland, who imported them from Tilea, who stole them from Estalia. You did tell me that if I saw an opportunity to invest I should take it, and I had your EIC check the seller to make sure they were reputable." He pauses as if waiting for you to react, and continues on once he's sure you're not going to do so. "It has a reputation for very fine wool, but more important, they're smarter than the average sheep. Problem we're having up here is the ragwort, it springs up all over the place if other plants die off and leave room for it, like during drought or if you overgraze. So in bad times there's more ragwort than anything else, and it's poison if a beast eats enough of it, and sheep ain't got the sense to avoid it. The mayor sheep is smart enough not to eat too much of it, and almost as tough as the local breed, so we're breeding them in to the local flocks."
You give a thoughtful nod, as though you're at all qualified to pass judgement on animal husbandry. "I see. That seems a sensible idea."
"I'd also like to bring in some East Westerlander rams to try to improve milk production in our ewes. You said I could make improvements without asking, but problem with these is that they're a lowland sheep. I could let the mayor sheep out with the other flocks tomorrow and they'd be mostly fine, but lowland sheep don't do well up here, and it could take generations of crossbreeding them until we get something that does. Until then I'd need to bring in provender from Tarshof, that'd come to a shilling per head per month, more during the winter, so maybe as much as a crown per head per year. To maintain a breeding population until there's enough of the local blood in them to survive up here, without breeding out the extra milk..." He inhales through his teeth. "Could get as high as a hundred crowns, and no guarantee that it'd prove worth it in the end."
The Reiklander Hedgewise are currently in some sort of theological conflict with the Sigmarites, which caused them to lay low such that Aksel couldn't contact them. Something happened in Reikland:
After Marienburg you keep your eyes peeled for even a thin trickle of outbound energy which you presume to indicate a currently-unused 'backup' leyline, but you find nothing but the bright streams coming in from Talabheim and Nuln. Aksel tries to get in touch with his counterparts in Reikland, but with the Reikland Hedgewise engaged in some sort of theological conflict with the Sigmarites and therefore being especially hunted by the Templars, he's unable to do so.
Further clarification on the Council of Manhorak and one of their High Priests:
Under what you assume to be Kasmir's direction, the Council of Manhorak has structured itself along monastic lines, and so the High Priest of Darmorak is titled the Abbot of Dark Moor. Of the four, it's the one you know next to nothing about. Bylorhof is where the worship of Bylorak kept one corner free of Vampiric influence, and Grim Moor and Hel Fenn were the sites of the defeats of Konrad and Mannfred von Carstein, and, presumably, where they still remain. All you really know is its approximate location on a map, but that location is at the headwaters of the Templa, nestled up against the mountains and no more than twenty miles from both Castle Drakenhof and Zhufbar. Abbot Ionel himself is a beardless man in his forties with kind eyes, long brown hair and a limp, who walks with the aid of a walking stick topped with an axe head and wears a long, curved dagger on his waist, both of which are made of a dull grey metal you'd guess to be bog iron. He's here as a demonstration of both authority and responsibility, and speaks of Vampires in general and Von Carsteins in particular with a quiet and tightly-controlled loathing.
Goendul comments on Mathilde's reputation in Stirland/Sylvania and the rumors that surround her. Inflated but hold an element of truth:
She smiles. "I meant you." Ah. "Many locals believe that like the Countess' Chaplain, you never left Sylvania after the Drakenhof campaign, and spent years carving a bloody swathe of vengeance across the land. That you slew the Singing King, liberated Nachthafen, purged Teufelheim, saved the Grand Countess from assassins, and laid curses upon the Lahmians of Mikalsdorf and Waldenhof."
A minor noble by the name of Nyklaus is rumored to be interested in the title of Markgraf of Sylvania:
To you, this is a curiosity, but to Roswita Van Hal and to whoever she ends up putting in charge of Sylvania - you'd heard a rumour that a minor noble by the name of Nyklaus had actually shown some interest in the task - this could be used to cement the claims of human hands on this corrupted province.