ArkonosBoard

Commander of Blacklight
Expansion 2/3
The sun was high, in the centre of the sky above the grand mountain Blacklight resided in, two-thousand dwarves marched out of the city, through the open stone gates. The remaining warriors inside the city watched as they marched out, pikes rising into the air, as they began marching through the valley, fading off into the distance. Svikar Redfist walked up a large set of stairs on the right side of the wall. He ran up, walking past the dwarven men gazing over the hills. Svikar itched his chin then nose, he faints beard across his face, and a larger nose than some, with dark brown hair.

“Close the gates.” He called with a rather deep voice, the dwarf to his left nodded, running to the far-left side of the wall, pulling a level. The gates then began to slowly close, the dwarf jogged back into his position on the wall. “Thank yeh.” He said, before nodding to the soldier and returning to the streets of Blacklight. He caught a few glimpses of dwarves on the street staring at him. He chuckled, he knew not many male dwarves didn’t have a beard, but he continued. Greeting dwarves that would pass him.

He walked straight on, the sunlight from the gates had long disappeared and the fires of forges and torches allowed him to see. He passed the markets, hearing chatter between the merchants and buyers. Then he was met with a grander set of walls. The Emperors palace, it was kept from the rest of the city with an enormous stone gate, as Svikar approached they opened just slightly, allowing him through. Upon entering the palace, a large hallway, pillars of rock lining both sides and a pathway carved into the floor, leading to the emperor’s throne. It was a beautiful sight to see. Before it was two dozen dwarven soldiers, their weapons out, their apparel had the two dwarven runes of steel and fire etched into them.

“Svikar,” The emperor said while laughing, standing up from his throne. “I have not seen you for a short while.”

“I’ve been orderin’ yer soldiers around mi’lord.” Sviakr said, dropping on one knee and kneeling before his emperor.

“You have prepared for the coming storm my friend?” Throkkrin sat back in his throne chuckling. He adjusted his crown.

“We have sent soldiers further into the mountains, our efforts ‘ave been without issue.” He lifts his head, then rises. “None shall oppose the empire.” Throkkrin Blackiron, lifted one of his hands, his palm facing away from him, he then began twirling one of his rings on his middle finger. He put his hand down, nodding slowly while yawning.

“Excellent, excellent. How are my subjects in the streets?” He asked, since he had not been outside the proximity of his palace in a week. Rather enjoying his many rooms, and the company of his soldiers rather than the common rabble.

“They are sparked with a new fire. Now that weh are growing stronger by the day, they are inspired by yer glorious rule.” He bows his head, towards the emperor of Blacklight, who has a small smile.

“Ah that is excellent is it not?” Throkkrin stands from his throne walking down the small set of stairs towards Sviakr. Putting an arm around him he begins walking to the left side of the hallway, touring him around the outskirts of the throne room. “You’re an excellent and loyal dwarf of Blacklight, and with you leading the mere soldiers and citizens of our grand and righteous empire. We are to rule the land under the sun.”

“We shall indeed.” Sviakr gives a smile in return to his emperor.

Battle on the Eidqa River
Expansion 2/5

The kingdom thought its troubles with violence had ceased with the annexation of the Paronans, but their hopes had been shattered by multiple raids upon many towns along the Eidqa River. As it was their duty, the senate sent the army to stop it, even if they felt more reluctant than worried. The senate sent Alltein, their prized general, along with Kalil, a well respected leader and warrior among the villages victim to the raids. The two leaders were to attack the enemy on different sides of the towns and then march together to where the raiders take their spoils.

The sun was still rising when Alltein and his men were waiting in hiding in some trees, a short distances walk from all the villages. And it wasn’t long before they saw a band a men dressed as thugs, brandishing weapons on a path to the centermost village. Alltein waited until the raiders were between him and the village before launching a surprise attack. The enemy was caught off guard, as they certainly didn’t expect an attack from the rear, if any at all. Alltein certainly got the upper hand in the fight, and before the enemy could completely retreat into the village, Kalil had crossed the river with a small group of men. The rest of his force had boarded the local trading and fishing boats on the river and began spraying a volley of arrows upon the enemy. At this point, Alltein and Kalil had won the battle before the sun reached its peak in the sky.

Through interrogations Alltein had learned that the raiders had set up camp in an old, abandoned Lopexian fortress. The fortress was in such an inconvenient spot, it was hardly remembered. The march to the lengthy, but still small in retrospect. The fortress was tall and looming, yet its superiority was challenged by trees close by. Its grey stature was ever so crumbling and looked beyond repair, but still study. It was spacious enough to hold quite a few bandits at a time, but not all of them would fit at the same time. At this old tower was Alltein met with a large band of bandits who took the tower as a hideout. While Alltein’s men clashed their way to the entrance of the fortified tower, Kalil’s archers aimed high to the top of the tower to stop the enemy from gaining advantage of their high ground. It wasn’t long before Alltein had stormed the tower, clearing out all the bandits that remained and found what was left of the stolen goods from the villagers. Alltein left Kalil in charge of the goods to be distributed back to the villages, as he wanted to march his men home, hoping they wouldn’t need to fight again.

The Cavalry Has Arrived
Carhaise Crisis Post V

Flames. She saw flames before her, cooking her flesh, roasting her alive. Her throat was choked with smoke, and she was paralyzed, helpless to do anything but watch as thousands of men, women, and children burned to death, screaming, screaming so loudly, like nails scraping on glass, screeches that tore through her thoughts, scrambling them as she screamed along side them, screamed with all of her-

Camaris awoke with a gasp, shooting to a sitting position like an arrow loosed from a tightly drawn bow, struggling to pant for breath, her eyes darting around her environment, taking stock of where she was. A tent. What was she doing in a tent? Why wasn’t she. . . Oh. That’s right. She was in the camp that the newly freed Carhaisian forces were using to clean up the rest of the Archangels and collaborators within their nation.

The woman rose, seeing the daylight stream from the gap in the flap of her tent, realizing she had slept longer than she had intended to. Sleep deprivation had been plaguing her since the Burning of Tessburg, and at times she slept for long periods of time. Exhaustion, no doubt. She always felt exhausted, nowadays. Healers told her it was her own mind, as her heart was heavy. She supposed they were right about that. Her heart was indeed heavy with the guilt she felt from the deaths of so many women under her leadership. Alyssa Bayle, Viktoria Lorraine, the thousands she had lost at the beginning of the Archangel occupation, the list seemed to grow ever larger.

Of her original Vixens, only thirteen remained, including the fiercely loyal Ahelys. The half-elf was her staunchest supporter, one of the only lights in the darkness of her despair. Her appreciation for Ahelys could not be understated. Without her, Camaris would no doubt have fallen to her own demons by now. Instead, she had something to focus her anger at herself on: Hirvio and his Archangels.

When the armies of Kostua Sol swept through Carhaise, slaughtering Archangels as they went, Camaris had been quick to spread word of it. The women of Carhaise rose up against the Archangels, joining the Kostuans, their ancestors coming to save them in their time of greatest need. The transgressions of the Red and Gold War were forgotten entirely, as everyone had to come together now against their common foe. Their cities were back in their own hands, as the Kostuans had allowed their own collaborators to have control of their nation back.

In a sense, that was humiliating. Camaris didn’t like that her people needed another nation to give them their land back, but what choice did she truly have? She had to accept their help, for the Kostuans were going to come through whether she wanted them to or not. It was better to sleep with the devil than be forced by him, she supposed. It made the passing of power easier to handle.

As Camaris left her tent, she saw a few women soldiers from Tessburg pass her, refusing to look at her. Well, she supposed she couldn’t really blame them for that. The men and women of Tessburg had expressed nothing but condemnation for Camaris and her actions in the Burning of Tessburg, which had done significant damage to their city. Funny. She hadn’t seen such protests from the destruction done to their precious city by the Empire’s liberation.

She sighed, moving through the camp, seeing women from all corners of Carhaise, and even some men holding spears. Skane, Dunedae, Tessburg, Carhaise itself, all were represented here. All were coming together now for one last battle against the Archangels to drive them from their land. Many were saying this was the end of Carhaisian occupation, but Camaris had her doubts. She believed this was only the beginning of the plague of Archangels assaulting Sokos. She believed that Hirvio had something else up his sleeve. How could he not? To orchestrate something like this on such a massive scale, he had to have backup plans for each of his backup plans. There was no way something as small as this was going to put him out of commission.

Camaris must have had one hell of a look on her face, because she had soldiers scrambling before her in every direction. She couldn’t help but let out another sigh, and try and look more like a leader. She was one, now. The new Carhaise was a lot different than the one she had fought a civil war in just months earlier, and though it seemed like the nation was going on a brighter path, she couldn’t help but wonder if the Council had made the right decisions.

In the near two decades since Carhaise had begun annexing the land around it, many peoples had been conquered and brought into the Queendoms, ruled from Trecaster. But in the time since then, the peoples had been restless. Rule from Trecaster had been anything but stable, especially in the past year. A call had come for change, for more autonomy since the position of Queen was uncertain to say the least. And as the women left in positions of power bickered and argued, the new system had been codified.

Carhaise was going to be divided into a series of Queendoms, who were largely independent from each other, bound together by a common religion and central ruler, the High Queen, who would be from the Line of the First Queen. Instead of their elective monarchy, the line would merge into one Great House, the House of Viktoria. Tessburg, Skane, Dietmaria, and Carhaise Proper would all be their own Queendoms. A new United Queendoms of Carhaise had been proclaimed.

Camaris had hope for the future, but did not truly know how this would turn out. She had been offered the position of High Queen, but had turned it down. She was no Queen. Evelyn Perryn, though she supposed that was Evelyn Viktoria now, had been chosen to take the office. The other Queendoms were currently in the process of choosing their own Queens, but Camaris cared little for that.

She had only one goal in life left, and that was to kill Hirvio and destroy his Archangels. She would not rest until she had driven her blade through Hirvio’s heart. Camaris knew the path of revenge was not a healthy one, but she no longer cared for her own life or well-being. She had thirteen women who would follow her into hell itself, and she would follow that man into the bowels of the earth if she had to.

As she considered this, the horn sounded to prepare for battle. This final battle to free their nation. She smirked, her sword already sheathed across her back. The time had come. They would beat the Archangels here, and prepare themselves for the counter-attack they knew was coming. That, at least, she found satisfactory.

Idiotic demands
Expansion post 4/5

The council had been gathered. They had an important decision to make. Would they join the kingdom of Fed Ter, or to try and fight the takeover. They’ve heard the stories. The stories of an unstoppable army, that has defeated anyone in its path.
“We shall have to join the kingdom,”stated one council member. “We cannot risk the lives of our men in a fight we are not likely to win.”
“No!” shouted another. “We cannot give in! We are a free people, and should not have to submit to others.”
This debate went on and on, for days. And while they were wasting time, the army of Fed Ter was marching towards them.

“Marshal Murdoch,” said commander Lea, “Our proposition to that tribe has been delivered. According to our spies they have been debating about it for days.”
Murdoch smiled. “Good, if they are fighting each other, it will be an easier takeover.”
“Should we not at least wait for their response?” Asked Lea.
“You are right. But we shall only give them one more day to deliberate. Then I want my answer.”
Lea smiled at him. “Thank you Mur. I’ll make sure they know.”
Lea left the tent and headed outside. Slowly, but with a steady pace, she walked towards the area where the horses were kept. When she got there she got one of the soldiers on duty to fetch her horse. When the horse came, she quickly mounted it and drove off towards the tribe that had been handed a very simple ultimatum. Join Fed Ter or die trying to defend yourselves from the rightful rulers of the land. It wasn’t a long ride. The army had set up in such a position that they would easily be able to attack the tribe if anyone tried to flee.
Once she reached the tribe, the gates were opened to her. The tribe knew that she was there to bring news and not attack them, and either way, they would never attack the messenger.
Once inside, Lea dismounted her horse and headed into the building of the council.
“My Lord wants an answer by the end of the day, he does not want to wait any longer.”
The council members looked alarm, and then broke into a discussion where not a single word could be heard. It was just shouting and rambling and shouting and rambling over and over.
“You know, this whole council idea doesn’t seem to work very well.” Lea observed.
The council looked up. “That might be your opinion, but we made a decision.” Said the council member at the head of the table. “We shall join the kingdom of Fed Ter.”
Lea looked startled. “Well thank you, I will tell my commander.”
“Under one condition,” the council member added, with a smirk on his face.
“Let’s hear it.” Lea stated.
“A member of the royal family comes and lives here, boosting our importance.”
You have no right to make demands. We could crush you!” Lea shouted.
“Those are our demands.”
“Okay, I will bring it to my commander.” Said Lea, the sarcasm in her voice obvious.
Lea rode back to her camp as fast as she could, and told Murdoch the news.
“And crush them we shall.” Murdoch said. “Prepare the army, we are attacking right now.”
Lea bowed and headed outside. She quickly gave the order to mobilize. Within an hour, the large force was ready to crush the Council that was making these idiotic demands.

And crush them they did.

The force made quick work of the tribe’s warriors. After the battle, Murdoch appointed a new leader for the tribe, and abolished any form of council to happen here again. All the Council members that agreed with the idiotic demans were taken by Murdoch, and would work for the army as a punishment.

After the War
Expansion 4/5

After Empellia took control of the East side of the Eidqa River, more goods and farmers with their harvest began flowing to the city more and more. With this surplus of goods and crops, the merchant was able to expand his business to hold a few foreign luxuries. The merchant had never seen so many goods in one place, nor large bustling crowds like the ones now in the marketplaces before Empellia’s expansion. Money had been coming and leaving his stalls and shop faster than they have ever before, and not all of it the standard Empellian Pryad, but coins of copper and gold as well. He had even seen a few Moons up from Korada and the small, shiny coins from the Aelythium colony in the bay. The marketplaces of Quetecalla had never been more lively, all of the bustling crowds almost made the merchant forget about the chilling rumors of demonic angels burning cities to ash he’d heard from the pink-skinned Aelythian colonists. The rumors he heard under the moonlit night held no restraint from bringing in superstitions from any culture involved, and the rumors of vile angels from a different land seem contradictory, if what the merchant understood angels as is true.

While the dark night holds many secrets, it is also home to festivals and celebrations in the city squares full of colorful fires, flags of all kinds, and dancing characters in festive masks. Foods of all kinds would be sold at stalls that sold jewelry by the day. While the merchant himself wasn’t keen to spontaneous noises, he found the merry plays and theatrical stunts humorous and enjoyable. The fresh, scrumptious smell of fried bread mixed with the overwhelming aromas of pinyon and mint spices and incense. Magical flames of vibrant colors always danced in the winds around the plazas. After the east came to become part of Empellia, the festivities only grew more in size and diversity. Soon paraders in masks would be selling northern delicacies; easterners would come telling Imperian tales. Soldiers from the Imperian wars would tell stories of Akanae’s heroics and leadership, and eventually, theatrics and puppet shows caught on to the tales. Not only was Akanae a war hero, but a character in fabricated stories. After a night of blissful celebration, the merchant would wake up from a nightmare that dragged him back to his inescapable chains made by a Cajapoyan forge. He would wake up and prepare for another day to sell his wares after warily brushing off the grim reminder of his people’s past.

~Ꮿ~

A salty breeze is always covering the docks. Many of the fishers and traders their get used to the smell and sometimes find the lack of it odd. A certain fisher likes to spend a lot of time at the docks. The docks have their own sort of society, many sell foodstuff or items or questionable origins. The docks act similar to the market places that are found in many parts of the city. The fisher always meets new kinds of people at the ports, especially from Aelythian traders, and the stories they tell are always fascinating. The fisher doesn’t have much money to barter, but he catches enough fish to just trade things directly. He has seen many kinds of people on the docks, all of them accept trades either money or fish. Often, the fisher eats food with strangers who have started a campfire to eat and tell stories. The fires people sit around on the docks are meeting places for strangers to meet without a worry or care. The light from the hearth provides a warm safety and friendliness; a shield from the chilling dangers. A protector from the demons of their shared past. A protector that is quick to fade away once the fire is gone and they part their separate ways.

Extending the flag; securing the base
Expansion ⅗

Rusan, when last I wrote you I spoke of our flight east to the next fort. We did not know how long we would have before the Dhorvasi were on to us. When we arrived we informed the leader there, a tall, bark brown, dahakrian named Giv, of the situation. We could not provide clear numbers, only that we were outnumbered. We set about making for our defense. Between our troops and those already here we numbered about a hundred and fifty. It did not seem likely that we would be able to hold out for long.

After securing the fort as best we could, all we could do was wait. We waited for what seemed like an eternity. It reminded me of the time before our first raid, you remember the occasion? The tension, the anticipation. Mere minutes felt like long hours. At one point we began to wonder if the Dhorvasi would come. Perhaps they had only been scouting? Or only wanted the one area. We did not have to entertain this false fantasy for long before the thundering of horses was heard. Like before, the Dhorvasi riders streamed into the area at the base of the hill’s upward incline. They poured in for some minutes before a bulky Dahakrian broke from them and made his way towards us. A brief way up the hill he called out to us, encouraging us to surrender and live another day. We would be spared.

We did not trust his words. Our own band leader would have had our guts for such a thing in any case. Our commander, Giv, called out our defiance, adding a taunt as well. He boasted of our numbers, much higher than there was in truth, and many other declarations meant to give our enemy pause. It was admirable to see him trying to discourage their impending attack but it did not ease any of our own feelings.

The Dhorvasi gathered into lines, though they were oddly slow about it, and they remained mounted. Surely they did not intend to advance up the hill while mounted? It was a strange sight. They continued this way for some time and we were beginning to think the stories were tall tales. They did not seem well organized. Suddenly their leader shouted some command and one of their numbers let loose an arrow that they had lit ablaze. It soared high and to the left. It was nowhere near the fort. Our confusion intensified at this strange display.

I was brought back to the present from my wonder when one of the Dahakrians behind me seemed to fall against me, making me lose my balance and falling under their weight. I turned to shout at their foolishness only to find blank eyes staring at nothing. He was dead. I only then realize the shouting around me as arrows began to stream into our fort. The mounted Dhorvasi were not all they had. Some had gone to higher ground above us, traversing the tree line unnoticed by us. All was panic. A few of us managed to make for a tunnel beneath the fort that lead deeper into the wood. We had to warn the band. None of us voiced the unspoken understanding that this new mission merely served to justify our flight out of fear….

Saviour

Aros stood on the walls of Savia, the city slowly rebuilding after the Archangel attack, the men had after 15 years learnt the horrors of war that they had long escaped from. Reports had already come in from Frelshar, the men that left it to defend the road had done their job, but had left the city undefended. The Archangels had used this lack of defence to stir up more of their followers and captured another Distikan city.

Aros swore as the reports came in, another city taken, his men already dealing with the deaths of taking Savia. Aros knew that they could take Frelshar, but if the Archangels took another after Frelshar, the army might not be able to take the next city.

Preparations were already taking place, the cannon in the armoury stores within in Savia were being prepared and serviced and being brought to the front. The army were cleaning there armour and sharpening their swords. They were resting after the battle with the Archangels in the walls of Savia. At dawn's early light they would march south-east towards the foothills of the Eternals, again free the captured Distikan city.

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

As the rain poured down, and feet splashed in the mud, the men miserable in the rain, but focused on the mission to recapture the city. Aros on horseback was at the head of the vanguard, the King had aged from a young man, to an experienced King, commanding respect from all his men and general.

Aros was to focused on his mission, they had passed many villages burnt to the ground, with men staggering around, bodies burnt and limbs hanging off. To give these men a merciful death was the only thing that could be done for them.

As they neared the city of Frelshar, they could hear the screams of pain. Piercing the minds of the men. Cannon was soon brought to the front lines ready to break down the walls in order to free the city. Aros looked over the city from a small hill. The archangels were fortified within the city but their numbers were still smaller than the Distikan army. The battle to come would be brutal but it would be a victory.

Aros soon stood within the tent with Bjornstad to prepare the plans for the upcoming battle.

“I will stand on the eastern side of the city, as soon as we break the walls, the men will rush in to capture the city centre and stop the Archangels from fortifying further inside the walls.” Aros said. “You will stand on the northern side of the city, I have men inside the city that are willing to risk their lives in order to open the northern gate. You will give the signal with a flaming arrow as soon as the cannon barrage starts. As soon as the northern gate is open you will flood in and capture the city, street by street.

Bjornstad nodded to his king. “It will be done my lord, I will use our archers to pick off the men from the walls and from there I will lead our forces into the city.

“Get some sleep, we have a long, hard day tomorrow.”

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[i[36 hours later[/i]

The city was retaken, the archangels were again in retreat their uprising a failure, but it had come at a cost for all those that fought, a number of Distikan lives were lost, wrestling the freedom of the city from the Archangels. But in the end the victory was again placed in Distikan hands. The city had been heavily destroyed in the large attack but it survived. The repairs would take time but it would again stand strong on the foothills of the Eternals. Aros stood in the large city square, directing his troops to the last pockets of resistance by the Archangels.

“My lord, we have captured a thousand men that uprose at the Archangel command, what does my lord wish to do with them” Bjornstad said coming up to the steps of the city square to face his king.

Aros thought over what should be done with them. “They must be punished, they sacrificed the peace and freedom of Distika for themselves, they took what we uphold to the greatest degree,” Aros said “This punishment must be death, crucify them along the Imperial Highway from Savia to Davir, all must know the final punishment, for treachery and traitors.”

“It will be done my Lord” Bjornstad said bowing “What about the dead?

“Burn those that fought against, their ashes will be all that purge our lands, for our own men, honourable burials for all those that fought in the name of Distika.”

Extending the flag; Edge of the Bay
Expansion ⅘

The immensity of it was fascinating to Sobutai. Though he had heard of it, he had never seen such an expanse of water as he did now. He had led their portion of the army further north, leaving a few aravs to continue building outposts up along the coast. They were securing all they could so that the next time humans invaded they would not catch them by surprise. Sobutai shifted his weight as he looked around, out towards the rough seas. His horse shifted with him, a personal gift from Huang-Kai. It was cold here, colder than in Dhorvatai. The wind was fierce where the land met the water. He narrowed his eyes. The Dsen commonwealth was supposed to be on the other side, the lands forming a sort of gateway into Bantry Bay. He hoped he could foster good relations with the other nation, it would help them better secure the bay. The human nation Distika might have qualms with such a thing, and he wondered what standing the Dsen held with the humans there.

Sobutai urged his horse on, continuing to survey the coast. Resistance to their army had been scattered. There were not many Dahakrians to be found this far north. It was probably too cold for any to bother, the few they saw likely having been outcasts from other bands. There were more Dsen but they had not yet found any city even half as impressive as Rizhou had been. Perhaps they were on the frontier for them. They had encountered a small fishing village but it was only a tiny group, not even enough to man a defense. It had happily submitted to avoid any conflict and to be allowed to resume their usual routine. The humans had probably landed further south where they had already cleared.

“Are you not freezing?”, a call came to Sobutai. He turned to find Jaliqai riding to meet him. He smiled as she came close.

“Naturally, but my mind is elsewhere. It distracts a little from the cold. The wind has settled a little as well.”

Jaliqai scoffed, “And yet it is still harsher than is normal farther south. Why would anyone wish to live here?”

“Perhaps they have nowhere else to go. They could be outcasts, or descendant of outcasts. Maybe they could not compete with a rival band.” Sobutai replied. Band? Or did Dsen call them tribes? He wondered about the word used for a moment before shaking his head. It did not matter.

“How is your suvem handling the chill?”, he inquired of his friend.

“Many have added extra hide to their armor. Covering the exposed areas. They do not voice much complaint though. They know why we have marched this way and are equally eager to secure our borders.”

Sobutai nodded in reply. They sentiment was common. Whatever descent there had been among the unified bands, or voices of objection to unclear decisions he had made, the human attack had silenced much of it. The reason, the need to unify was now greatly apparent to most. Even those who initially questioned bringing Dsen into their fold had quieted. The devastation inflicted on the Oyuneg served as a vivid example that they could not resist as scattered bands.

Another rider approached, saluting as he came near. Sobutai returned the salute. The dahakrian scout then paused, catching his breath. He had been riding with speed, even his mount seemed to have need to collect itself.

“What news a head?” demanded Jaliqai.

“The Dsen have greater numbers than we have encountered so far. There seems to be a city further along the coastline. Before we reach it we have to cross the outer edge of what seems to be their territory. They seem aware of our march. We spotted several groups converging two rivers past.”

“Very good, meet up with the rest of the suvem and get some rest.”, Sobutai said, acknowledging the report. The scout gave the standard salute, his fist smacking the upper portion of his armor, before riding off.

“Seems we will have a chance to warm ourselves. The Dsen ahead sound quite willing to fight.”

Jaliqai merely nodded and gave her own salute before riding off to her own suvem.

Of Men Called Degenerates
Expansion 2/5
(in the aftermath of this page=rmb/postid=35392691)

The men of the 10th Ranger-Scouts continued their march southwards, the tribe they encountered now part of the Confederacy. A large fire roared behind them. Whether a bonfire of joyous celebration, or the destruction of innocent lives, they knew not: for they were the group sent ahead to scout the areas they would travel to. The main group was behind them, with each fire signalling their successes. Though none of the vanguard wished to believe that the comrades behind them chose the way of the sword over the pen, they remained fully prepared to face that reality. To accept the fact that they too played a hand in killing them. But for now, they paid no mind. For now, they would explore the woods that stretched beyond them. Light could not penetrate through the sheer mass of trees that was there, so torch in hand, the Vixae went into the darkness. Captain Nildet was their commander, carrying the first torch. Led by one of the few locals of the areas, they explored, listening to his stories of the hairless demons that lived there.

The path was uneventful. A deer spotted, a faint noise heard, but nothing out of the ordinary. The guide was speaking of stories, surely. Then a scream at the back of the line. Running to the source, the men regrouped, confused as to what warranted such a noise. The recruit, the youngest of them all (and thus being delegated to the back of the group), pointed in the distance. At first they simply saw a tree branch, and began mocking the recruit for his overreaction, some laughing at the poor boy. But then another pointed it out. It was no branch. It was a paw, outstretched on the ground. They could not see the body past the trees. Silence proved victor. No one was laughing anymore. What was once looked at with jest was now looked with such seriousness that the entire situation seemed surreal to the vanguard. They carefully approached.

They saw the bodies of two Vixae. An archer and a warrior. They could tell from their clothing. They first inspected the lightly-clothed archer, searching his body for any notes he may have left behind, as well as to inspect any wounds they could find. In his body they found a small, metal ball lodged in his torso. They took it out, and found that the wound has burnt itself dry. They looked at the ball. Somehow this killed the archer. They also found a piece of paper, stating plans for an ambush. The warrior was in a messier state. A gash to the shoulder and one to the head. The greener members of the company revulsed backwards, upon seeing the sight. But the sword he held in his hands intrigued them. Captain Nildet picked it up, inspecting the sword that shone the same color as smoke. He tested it against his own, and found it to be much stronger than copper. He put it in his possession, and continued to investigate. At a tree stump, they saw a pool of blood gathered there. Someone sat there, while they were bleeding. Snapped arrows, fletchings shown, scattered in the ground. He was riddled with so many arrows. Then they heard the distant snap of twigs, and then the faint glow of torchlight followed by the sounds of men talking.

They extinguished their torch and hid amongst the bushes, arms at the ready. They looked at the men. Three men, wearing clothes the color of smoke, and brandishing swords like Captain Nildet picked up. They were hairless, but they were no demons. They were flesh and blood. They were strange men, whom they had never seen anything like before. Yet there they were, two men of the trio laughing at their more inexperienced counterpart’s fear of the darkness. They were people, with dreams and fears, just like them. There were no monsters amongst them, no demons to be slain. Just men refusing to see each other as brothers in this uncaring World. Seeing these men, those who the local tribes harassed, they retreated into the darkness, pondering who started the cycle of violence, that wasteful dragon that knows no end. They thanked the Old Gods for letting them slip by undetected, and went into the night.

They met up with the main group, and told them to make great haste a returning group, warning the Crown of these new men. They were powerful. They could be dangerous. They could mean the very end of the Confederation as a whole. But the idea was always up in the air, never acknowledged by any who put it into mind. The idea that these men may one day be useful.

Sargoloth now borders the Surezkian colony

Extending the flag: Dsen Dissent
Expansion post 5/5

The wind tore its way across the field. If his army felt the chill through their bodies, they did not show it. Sobutai was pleased. The Dsen had assembled to meet them. Their force was smaller but they had a strength that could not be underestimated. They also lived here and were more accustomed to the wind and cooler air. They had arrayed on the opposite banks of the river before them. Sobutai did not relish having to cross. He did not know how deep the river might be. Fortunately, like many he had fought so far, this enemy did not seem to understand the value of scouting their opponents. Sobutai had sent Torgun further south to march parallel with his own advance. The strategy had worked effectively for them against the western dahakrians. Still, he would need to keep their attention on his forces until Torgun could come up behind them.

Sobutai hoisted his spear high to signal Jaliqai and her suvem began to move towards the river. Jaliqai had divided her suvem among the aravs that comprised it. Each arav rode across their side of the river, firing volleys toward the Dsen and interchanging directions. The Dsen archers struggled to keep up with the mounted dahakrians as they continued to change directions. A few managed to hit their targets and a dahakrian rider would fall but far more Dsen fell for each of them. Still, they could only do this for so long before the Dsen caught on that something was up or before they changed strategy. If the Dsen retreated it might make things more difficult with a portion of the army still on the far side of the river.

Suddenly the thundering of horses began to carry over the field as Torgun’s suvem came into view. The Dsen army tried to scramble to prepare for it but they were too disorganized. Torgun’s suvem charged straight into their chaotic mass. The Dsen units no longer tried to rally, and instead tried to flee. Some attempted to cross the river but were picked off by Jaliqai’s own suvem still mounted across from them.

*****

Renyao had been confident that the dahakrians wouldnt cross the cold river on their horses. They were still in reach of there bows but the same was true of their own. However he had not expected their tactics. One after another, a group of theirs would ride down along the banks of the river, firing a volley into his troops. They would cycle their direction. It made them difficult to hit. He could not mimic their efforts as his own soldiers were not mounted. Renyao tried to think of a counter but he was limited. Crossing the river in a charge was not an option. Though not terribly deep, they would be easy targets in the water. They could fall back but then they would be out of range for targeting the dahakrians.

Renyao had run out of time. Before he could issue commands, the air broke with a thunderous noise. He looked to the south and saw another group of dahakrians charging towards them on their side of the river. There was no time to get his Dsen into coherent lines to brace for the charge. The riders crashed into them and the battle became chaos. Renyao’s men had discarded their bows and brought their spears or clubs to bear, but they were quickly crumbling. Renyao moved through the chaos, dispatching two of the dahakrians that attacked him. Several of his troops rallied to him and he thought he might be able to turn the tide.

“Rally to me!”, he yelled over the noise mess of death. Any further order was lost. A large charcoal dahakrian appeared before him on horseback. Renyao raised his club but the dahakrian’s spear thrust into him with speed he did not expect.

*****

Torgun yanked on his spear and it pulled loose from the Dsen before him. The Dsen toppled to the ground without a word and Torgun pressed on. Many of the Dsen were now surrendering. The battle slowed as the last of them were either slain or captured. The river was full of those who had tried to escape. Torgun raised his spear and the dahakrians around him roared in their victory. The flag of Dhorvas continued to extend.

Deception
Okada struggled up the small sandy hillock.

“Not much”, he reported, “just sand and those damned thorn bushes.”

We remounted our horses and trotted back to base camp.

The next day, Captain Akos straddled his horse and beckoned us to follow. Starting at a walking pace, we began trotting, then finally cantering. For hours and hours, there was nothing but the sun baked sand and withered scrub. For the umpteenth time, we stopped to swig from our increasingly leather tasting canteens.

We travelled for four days under the blazing sun and unfamiliar stars when Captain Akos stopped. We had run out of water in the third day and kept slogging on in military discipline. Up ahead was a pool of water. We madly rushed for it, sand flying and sandals pounding.

“STOP!”

We all halted to Captain Akos’ voice, confused. Then we heard multiple sharp hisses as a hail of arrows flew just missing as the attackers were anticipating for us to keep running. Kodai cursed and unslung his shield and drawing his scimitar. I did similarly.

“FORMATION,” Captain Akos bellowed, “ON ME”

We yelled and formed into a defensive circle formation. The archers seeing that there was no effect of their arrows due to our massive round shields, drew sabres and scimitars and charged in a ragged line. There was a deafening crash of steel on steel but the raiders had lost their best weapon, surprise. They were all quickly cut down.

“Too easy,” Kodai muttered while sheathing his sword, “No fun.”

I made my way through the carnage to find Captain Akos to report casualties and injuries. Scanning through faces I didn’t seen the captain.

“Down here,” a faint voice whispered, “I’m here.”

I looked down to see Captain Akos with a black shafted arrow puncturing his chest. I crouched to check his condition. Fatal wound to the upper chest. He shouldn’t have been breathing. He muttered something incoherently. I knelt down closer to hear the captain’s final words.

“Build it here,” he rasped, “Build the great empire here.”

A Game of Chess
Expansion Post
[1/1]

In the city of Salant, spice was the major resource. As the geographical and economic capital of the Thirteen Islands, prosperity should've been the norm. The streets should've been bustling with people going to and fro, not unlike the prosperity of the Arhlant islands.

Instead the city was covered with an oppressive atmosphere, guards dressed in blood red armour stationed at every major intersection. Lopexians who braved the streets usually walked swiftly with their heads down. Only stores that sold the basic necessities which everyone needed were open. Gates which lead into the walled city were closed tightly, with two Sérkirs^[1] of troops watching over the two gates. The local inns had been converted into mobilization centres for troops.

Porcelain shards covered the study room of Cersla Tripton, King of the Thirteen Islands. A chessboard lay between two Vixae, the one on the right stroking his beard while pondering about the recent changes in the Kingdom. His young compatriot seemed to be irritated by the lack of attention. He slammed the black chess piece.

"This is too rash of them isn't it Father?" The young man said, trying to illicit a response from the man sitting opposite him.

"Rash?" The man questioned, chuckling without a trace of joy.

"I told you not to mess with that old bastard. He has schemes upon schemes. Consolidate, Comprehend, Conquer. My exact words." The man said his voice low yet piercing through his son's ears and into his heart, making it race in fear.

"We have military strength on our side. We hold the offspring of the other lords. What is it that makes you afraid to face Karlois?" Ahrnad Cersla asked his father, his blood red armour, glistening as light leaked through the stained glass on the roof.

His father, Kharnad Cersla, sighed before saying,"Before we rose to power, the old king favoured Lord Farlas as his successor. Farlas and the old bastard had a long rivalry. It is said that their rivalry was so intense that they could barely look at each other in the eye before pouncing on each other. You can imagine how well the decision went down with Karlois." Kharnad said waiting for his son, who nodded in response before continuing.

"Within two weeks, Farlas's town was under the flames of a rebellion, his closest aides against him, his sons taking control of the armies. Within two weeks, Lord Karlois destroyed the dignity and respect that the Farlas family had commanded since the Kostuan days." He said, his son looking at him with widened eyes.

"That is why, though they may seem to acknowledge our superiority, don't think even for a second that we have them under our control." He said, the hardness in the voice of Kharnad 'Iron Hand' Cersla returning.

"But Phlyxas. He condemned his son and banished him. Plus though they managed to get Prylax, he is still in our territory. We can get him back!" Ahrnad said, the vigour of a Sáshir's^[2] general returning.

"No." The King said, denying his son's request quickly and continued to elaborate.

"He picked those three before we even rose to fame. Phlyxas, Phrixius and Prylax. He calls them the Trinity of Leaders. The Love of the People, The Might of the Sword and The Schemes of the Mind respectively. He might have condemned his son, but have you ever stopped to think how he managed to get out of the city without us noticing? That old man has some scheme up his sleeves, and with Prylax escaping, until I get solid knowledge of his tricks we will not make a move.

"So that's it? You're afraid of an old man and his tricks? We are going to leave the fact that Arhalant has declared war on our staunchest ally?" The young man said, his hands trembling with rage and disbelief that the man that thousands feared was wary of a Lord who had a tenth of their strength.

"Do you not understand? Why is that Salant, though having better geographical locations and resources still can not match up to the prosperity of Arhalant? They have solved their internal problems, their merchants travel far and wide, their military might though being small has exploited every ounce of strength that those cats have efficiently. And us? We focus on mostly suppresing rebellions in the hinterlands most likely orchestrated by him, impeding our growth. Unless we go out of our way to restrict him, we will be left alone, and we will prosper." The man said

His son got up in rage, "And what happens in the meantime? Our allies get swallowed up while our enemies recognise him as King. We will be alone, do you not realise? We will be alone in the world. Our prosperity won't be worth anything if we can't stand up to those bastards!" The man screamed, his fists white with rage.

The man just chuckled before putting one of his legs on the other.

"I'm sure that some of the more ambitious Sokos nations would be willing to consider a prospering Lordship as their subordinate. All they would have to do is ensure our ability to retake what's ours." He said.

Ahrnad seemed to have been shocked by this notion, his fists loosening as he said, "You-You'd give up the throne and become a subordinate to those invaders?"

"Karlois takes only the islands as his chess board. He has truly driven me into a corner here. I admit that on this front, even if the defeat isn't in the near future, I have indeed lost. But he hasn't thought of one thing." Kharnad said while making a move on the chessboard. Ahrnad looked at the chessboard, still reeling from shock only to realise that he had lost. His King was surrounded by white pieces.

Suddenly, the chessboard flipped as Kharnad casually turned it over and said something that would make him ponder over the exact meaning for a while.

"Unlike in chess, life continues after checkmate."

--
Sérkir^[1] = Word for Company in Native. Platoons are fixed with each one having 250 troops.
Sáshir^[2] = Word for Battalion in Native. Fixed at 1,000 troops.

Organization of troops will be explained in a factbook.