Fantasy ◙-Fᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Sᴛᴇᴇʟ-◙

[Pat]

​

"Sir Arenos, I should like to remind you to exercise your zeal on those who yet live. Inform the mayor and guildmasters of Bernadock that if the late Garton will not compel piety from the sinful, that he will instead compel piety from the pious. Command the former to continue his noble service, and the latter to maintain just prices for their wares in their dealings from the highest lord to the lowest serf, or else the outlaw will festoon every gibbet of the port in pieces along with his cutthroats." Lord Roth stated in the reeve's manor, surrounded by his vassals. "Until the spring planting is completed, I cannot in good conscience call the levy away from their fields, but with what men I have at my beck and call, a few brigands are a trifling matter."

Turning his attention to the messenger waiting for his latest communication with his neighbor, he speaks curtly. "Baron Teycan obstructs our path. Bid him to join us, or stay out of our way. I care not which. If he chooses to align himself to the side of King Edmund and Paragon Emmortal, let the estates of Flamebay and Sunwick be pillaged on his behalf, and their contents quietly transferred into his coffers. The spoils of war can be his, with little of the blame but inaction, and all he will have to do is defend himself for the duration of this war as my forces march to the sea up through Wellshine Priory." Lord Roth never intended to subject holy men to the terrors of war, but if word was foolishly sent to Duke Selastin, a detour through Sinburne could surprise him in more open ground as the traitor-lord may hurriedly fortify the natural choke point.

Then there was what to do with Fishers' Town. "Let no man have the right to claim favoritism to this awarded work. The charity will be performed as recommended. As for this other matter, Father Mulley has the right of it, but the downtrodden peasantry of Fishers' Town could be persuaded to join our cause. Their land is poor, but on the battlefields of this war, fortunes can be made and lost. Should they be willing to yield their plows for swords, I say let them. Pollard can be responsible for the settlement's administration, and the lady of the absentee knight who wrongfully shifted the blame to him, can pay a penance to Merrandy Abbey to attone for her lies. Any in Fishers' Town who owe a debt to her manor will be freed of it."

🜲 3,036

Retinue
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13x Roth household knights
5x Roth country knights
30x Roth squires / men-at-arms
25x Roth mounted sergeants
45x Roth valots

6x Connway men-at-arms
10x Connway sergeants
9x Connway valots
3x Merrandy men-at-arms
3x Merrandy brother-sergeants
7x Merrandy postulants-at-arms
7x Holy Temple clerics

9x Assorted men-at-arms
8x Assorted mounted sergeants
19x Assorted valots

Levies​

5x assorted mounted men-at-arms
8x assorted mounted sergeants
20x assorted horsemen

58x Bernadock sergeants
30x Sykes sergeants
3x Ollithar sergeants
3x Watmarr sergeants
5x Lorens sergeants
2x Thorlmar sergeants
3x Agrand sergeants
6x Ithgen sergeants
7x Sorbry sergeants
6x Tenpram sergeants
5x Anhur sergeants
8x Merrandy sergeants
7x Settor sergeants
65x Sykes footmen
110x Bernadock footmen
10x Agrand footmen
25x Ithgen footmen
38x Merrandy footmen
29x Anhur footmen
19x Tenpram footmen
29x Sorbry footmen
39x Sorbry bowmen
20x Enstoke footmen
17x Thorlmar footmen
23x Lorens footmen
10x Watmarr footmen
20x Settor footmen
19x Ollithar footmen

41x Bernadock crossbowmen
10x Sykes crossbowmen
20x Sykes bowmen
12x Merrandy bowmen
30x Anhur bowmen
45x Tenpram bowmen
19x Sorbry bowmen
7x Watmarr bowmen

Reserve Levies
???

1) Lord Roth, Sir Arenos (and any forces he chooses to bring), 4 household knights, 16 men-at-arms, and 8 mounted sergeants go to clear the camp of bandits Garton revealed, attempting to surround the site by cover of darkness before attacking at daybreak. Any surviving bandits are captured and executed in Bernadock, but not tortured as Garton was, to demonstrate the earldom's laws will not be broken, and inspire the small folk of Bernadock to join Lord Roth's army.

2) Taxes are collected when fully gathered, with the exception of Fishers' Town.

3) Army continues to gather, mustering at Ithgen in preparation for a march through Baron Teycan's lands beginning after Lord Roth returns from his little hunting trip whether or not he complies with Lord Roth's demands, burning the estates of Flamebay and Sunwick as they travel through. The forces will not march through the forest to Wellshine Priory after moving through Baron Teycan's lands as Lord Roth implies to him, but instead through Sinburne, to raze Bursack, Touneton, and all other Sunwick lands in that area which are hopefully unguarded.

Detachments of soldiers visit every settlement in the earldom with the exception of Fishers' Town, raising it's full levy once the spring planting is complete. Deserters are flogged, attended to by physicians, and pressed into service. Those that bring with them shoddy equipment are fined and disciplined.

The part of the retinue comprised of troops from several minor vassals, along with the crew of the small galley, and Merrandy Abbey's own ships, remain behind to garrison the earldom from Dyrnwald raids or an unexpected attack from a fellow vassal or traitor lord. They do a parade in Bernadock to drum up more troops. Their ranks are filled out by levies after the spring planting is complete, and the rest of the levies are sent on to follow and reinforce Lord Roth's army, led by Sir Gawain.

Spoiler: Development

Wooden tower at each crossroads.

Peat mine at Watmarr.

 

[Lorsh]

• BARONY OF SWANTON
• BARONY OF BERNGARD
• BARONY OF FLAMEBAY
• Lordship of Sherfield
• CLAN MACEANRUIG
• EARLDOM OF SYKES

• 
  ✶ Bᴀʀᴏɴʏ ᴏғ Sᴡᴀɴᴛᴏɴ ✶
  
  ...countryside ablaze and what'd they have to show for it? A failed escape attempt and a humiliating surrender before the gathered retinue of the enemy's lord. Swanton could hardly believe his luck; the fates, it seemed, had turned firmly against his favor. He wiped his brow with a kerchief, swearing under his breath at the stiffling heat generated from so many bodies crowded into too small a tent. His son shifted awkwardly at his side, the youth likewise unaccustomed to the situation they found themselves in. Across from them, the aide to Lord Bomric continued to read out the terms of their surrender. More than a dozen figures hovered around the Lord and his right hand, hawking over the chance to see this event play out. The dull drone of the man's voice was sometimes eclipsed by the sounds of celebration outside; Bomric's soldiers were living up their hard-earned victory against the lackluster defense offered by Swanton's side. Almost twenty minutes later, as the aide read aloud the final damning words of the agreement, the time came to seal the deal, as it were. All eyes followed the disgraced lord as he moved from his son's side, striding slowly over to the victor of this conflict. He paused four paces out, knelt, and withdrew his sword in a single, slow action of submission. Without words he presented the fine blade up to Bomric. He couldn't, wouldn't, try to find something to say in the moment. It just wasn't thinkable.
  
  
  Swanton Keep has capitulated!
  
  It's a lively morning in the Lord Bomric's camp: the soldiers and other faculty are celebrating an easy-won victory over their enemies. Swanton thinks back to the night before as he waits for the ceremony to finish; back to the sight of half his realm burning into cinders and the primal terror it invoked in his very soul. The choice to surrender without conditions was a simple choice to make after being faced with such a hellish alternative.
  
  [Writing by St. Clover ]
  
  
• 
  ⚜ Bᴀʀᴏɴʏ ᴏғ Bᴇʀɴɢᴀʀᴅ ⚜
  
  After a week of mounted raiding going unchecked within the Barony of Scarwin, you and your allies have inflicted fiery and severe losses on the foe. Several score tenants were killed, and thousands of crowns no doubt lost in blasted land, and killed and stolen chattels. Wegford is burned, as are many of the large riverside hamlets. Hundreds of villfolk are left with naught but ash for homes and belongings.
  
  A large hamlet located in the lightly-forested hills east of Judsham Village is seized by your uncle, Lord Mardas. His family previously had a claim on those lands, and so rather than sacking it, it is incorporated into the Barony of Aldwyn. The local Myre-affiliated bailiwick is dismantled, and its few officials arrested or expelled. The demesne of their previous knightly overlord is taken over, and several other families in the area have their property sequestered. A new master, Sir Hegre - a rich merchant's son serving as a knight the Wesgrath garrison - is declared. You hear him being derided as a lowborn among many of your noblemen in the pavilion that night, though at least a few begrudgingly mention some prowess he had as a man-at-arms.
  
  
  
  Continuing your reprisals against the turncoat lords, you soon drift to the neighbouring fiefdom, which belongs to a vassal of the Baron of Myre himself. This is the lordling Bentley Buckell, who presides over a small keep near Bronsfield. Your promenade through his lands cut short when one of your outriders gallops up to you, delivering grim news.
  
  
  Berngard man-at-arms
  
  "Sir Robert - ah, please excuse me - your Lordship," an exhausted man-at-arms suddenly arrives, dressed in a surcoat bearing Swanton heraldry. Several of his friends, Swanton men who were already in your host as part of the entourage of Master Eshen, Lord Jetrin's steward, ride up and give cheer that he is alive. However, the mood soon terms grim once the man relays the news. This soldier, along with three others, were all that managed to escape Swanton Keep. "It was a folly... Sir Oshard Swanton, the brave son of my Lord, was captured in the attempt of escape. Any man who knows the Baron knows he will yield anything to save his beloved son." He says out the next part unnecessarily loud and dishearteningly. "Swanton Keep is taken! The armies of the bandit lords will be seeking their vengeance upon you."
  
  There are suddenly whispers, which quickly grow into loud shouts as there is commotion among the men.
  
  "Did you hear that? Swanton Keep is fallen!"
  
  "They could be on their way, milord - at this very moment!"
  
  "Sire, what do we do?"
  
  "Calm yourselves, lads," urges Sir Arthon Maynard. Your high captain raises his voice and his hand, addressing the surrounding horsemen. "If friendly knights made it into our lines, then so can those of the enemy. You men!" he gestured at some idle men-at-arms. "Meet up with our outriders, and make haste back to us if you spot the enemy." He unslings his horn, tossing it to a young rider. "Go. Now!"
  
  
  Surely enough, you receive word that a significant force of foemen, possibly up to three hundred men ahorse, is looming to the south of Bronsfield. In their attempt to take you by surprise, they left several thousand footmen behind. Still, your host is slightly outnumbered. Your men are less preoccupied with baggage and loot, considering most of the gains from their raids are now safely stored on your cogs. Dripwood, Swanton, Aldwyn, and Berngard men all break off from whatever pillaging they happened to be doing, and assemble under your banner. By the time the host regathers, their spirits are risen, and many of them are eager for a fight.
  
  Lancepoints and spearheads glisten in the after-midday sun. Gray smoke drifts up into the white clouds and slightly orange-tinted skies.
  
  
  Yonbry, Scarwin, Myre cavalry
  
  "Now is the time to truly bring the fight to them," your uncle Lord Philip urges.
  
  
  "The foot of the bandit lords' army is doubtless marching to Wesgrath," your other uncle Lord Mardas says. "We should regroup at my township with the infantry I've already raised. Listen - if we perish here, our lands will be forfeit. Remember, my Lord nephew, Berngard is a stone's throw away from there."
  
  "Dear Mard, you will be pleased to know that when we triumph here, saving Wesgrath and Berngard shall be that much easier," Lord Philip retorts.
  
  "Orders, my lord?" Sir Maynard reigns in his horse next to yours. "The foe have gathered in the field - they may be sending for a parley, or they may strike without warning. It appears we still have time to retreat, should it suit us. Otherwise... we should form ranks quickly."
  
  
  
• 
  ❁ Bᴀʀᴏɴʏ ᴏғ Fʟᴀᴍᴇʙᴀʏ ❁
  
  The men of Cwyallan march out of their wooden keep after the Baron of Skerry's standard is lowered, folded and delivered to your person. A small stack of bows and swords are made as the defenders discard their arms. The keep itself is in good condition, will palisades and trenches around its perimeter. In the cellar are several sacks of grain, barrels of beer, and saltfish. A few commoners from the local area that worked on the outpost grounds request to stay and continue their work on the site's upkeep. Finally, an Oriflamme herald raises the fiery standard of Flamebay above the outpost, incorporating the seized holding and its attendant lands to your demesne.
  
  You quickly assemble your trusted vassals around you. "Perhaps the Baron of Berngard could be invited to our victory feast," suggests Sir Oster Jocklyn.
  
  "The man may be otherwise predisposed," says Lord Benfred of the Ryker family. "There has been fighting around Swanton Keep, I have heard. Trouble in his uncle's lands... If he emerges victorious, he'll have his own feast for to throw."
  
  Lord Horall scratches his beard. "We should consider helping the Baron of Berngard, if we truly wish for a betrothal. Nothing makes men kin quite like drawing their swords side-by-side. The weasel from Scarwin, I would not trust. With so many of his own lands already put to the torch, and his avaricious allies no doubt wishing to stake claims of their own... there will be scant few returns to be had by supporting his side."
  
  "I do not agree," says Sir Lorran Kerrin, Master of Alorend. "It really ought to go further. We should only make an alliance of convenience, and grant ourselves just enough time to defeat the stronger of the two, before taking up arms against the remainder. That way, we will be able to have lands to spare, for to attract more knights."
  
  "Something tells me that will earn us very few friends," remarks Sir Issan of Marth. He laughs uneasily.
  
  "What? Giving land to people will doubtless make friends," Sir Lorran says.
  
  "I am moreso talking about the taking of land from people, sir. This belligerency will attract unwanted attention. There are still lords about who would keep the peace in the name of our dear Edmund, or perhaps attack us out of fear they may be next..."
  
  One of your knights coughs. Another shrugs. One of the valots returns and says that the emissaries were served their cups of wine and are now ready to leave, though they are open for brief parting words if you had wanted to give them any.
  
  --
  
  A few of your men set off to serve as envoys to Berngard Castle. Their lord was last reported to not be present there, but the prospect of marriage could still be presented to his steward.
  
  To your great luck, you receive a parley from the remaining Skerry peninsular forces hiding out deep in the forests around Waynbrok, the only unconquered hamlet remaining. Three knights there have now surrendered to you without conditions. One of them offers you their sword and asks to change sides to your cause, while the other two promise to not return to Skerry Isle. A few crossbowmen and other soldiers are disarmed and dispersed, with your men making small piles of helmets, swords, padded jerkins and shirts of mail to be loaded into the carts. A few sheaves of quarrels and quivers of arrows are taken, alongside ten crossbows and twenty-two ordinary bows.
  
  Regarding the looting that took place in the mainland Skerry hamlets, you are handed a spoils report by your High Steward, Sir Trenwin Morrigan. Many beasts, ploughs, coins, jewels and other valuable items have been stolen. Around a third of the looted crowns go to you, but since your army is afield, it is in your power to immediately arrest all animals. Still, the men may expect to receive some of them back as gifts at the feast later.
  
  
  
• 
  φ Lᴏʀᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴏғ Sʜᴇʀғɪᴇʟᴅ φ
  
  Lord Morran is conflicted about the assault on his person by the men of Darndon. He is aware that both he and his liege are within their honour to respond with force, and he does have half a mind to do so himself. However, Morran tells you that the stratagem of his liege lord may - or may not - call for a more malleable approach. In the end, he hasn't exactly given you any advice one way or the other. "Do whatever you feel needs to be done, my liege. I will not let my feelings get the better of me at a time when we ought to be mindful and shrewd in our actions."
  
  
  Lord Morran
  
  With new camps quickly being constructed, lumber harvesting operations begin in the forest belonging to High Lord Mallick Cerham. Any armed men that accompany the camps ensure their heraldric markings are removed. Several country people near Jesworth and Urkyth are paid off to not reveal the location of the camp to any of Mallick's foresters, and about ten gold pieces are spent in this endeavour.
  
  
  Lumber camp
  
  Workmen are recruited in Sherfieldton to begin construction of the armoury house. Purchases of some of the weapons begin, but others have simply been commissioned and are yet to be made. The bowyers and cutlers in Sherfieldton are now hard at work.
  
  After the call to arms is given to the freeholding populace of the land, soldiers - mostly spearmen - begin to show up to muster in Sherfieldton and Holmfirth. A few sergeants and horsemen arrive, but most of the more well-to-do men have bought their way out of service by paying shield money, with a hundred and two gold pieces being collected in total.
  
  The men generally possess spears, hand weapons, padded tunics and leather jerkins, bucklers and larger round or almond-shaped shields. Most of their helmets are of the more Fyrdosian segmented, round-topped variety, though a mix of more Carmon-style helms are also in usage. There is the odd mail collar or set of mittens worn without a hauberk, as well as ringed "broignes" of faux-maille. Very few men have full mail sleeves, and their padded or leather armour is of simple make, at best. There are more than a few men whose jacks are tattered, or they wear no armour besides an extra woollen tunic. Fortunately, nearly all the men have some form of head protection, usually of iron rather than leather. Some of the men don't wear any shoes.
  
  After being fined over rusty helmets, sheepskin shield covers, not having a spear, or long enough knife, etcetera. many of the men are not in a particularly good mood, especially since rumours are now circulating among the populace, wondering why they are being summoned. Some of them have been keeping up with the tourney incident at Sherfield Castle, so they think one nobleman must have slighted another somehow. Many of the people wonder if they are going to war with their neighbours to the south of the river, with mixed feelings. At the moment, the thought of going to war against fellow Fyrdosians in Darndon is not on anybody's minds. You also receive a report of alarm on the sighting of Eacciew heraldry from a farmer who did not realize that Greydan's men are currently serving auxiliary to your own forces.
  
  A few otherwise exempt men join the gathering levies for a chance at plunder or adventure. It isn't long before drunkenness and whoring becomes problematic in Sherfieldton, where many of the soldiers are now taking up lodging at inns, taverns, and even local houses.
  
  One Sherfieldton townling was killed last night, hit in the head by a stone that was thrown by a levied man that came from outside the town. As the settlement is graced with your protection, it would be a grave insult to the townsmen living under your charter if he was not sentenced to death. The mayor of Sherfieldton petitions you to have him hanged in the town square, and his property transferred to the victim. However, you have significant influence over the town-courts in Sherfieldton. You could rule that he should be tried in the lord's court instead, and his property transferred to you. Sometimes, the rural petty nobles and yeomen become disgruntled at the notion of townlings gaining property in the hinterlands. It is well and good for the lord of the land to receive it instead, for he then might grant it to one of them.
  
  
  Sherfield hamlet levies
  
  The owners of the three cogs you order arrested in the ports of Sherfieldton petition for a reimbursement of one gold piece per day their ships are seized. They also offer their own sailors to help man the vessels. There is no law put to ink in this land that mandates that a lord must pay a man in order to seize his ship, it is simply more of a might-makes-right matter this far in the northlands. Still, a small boon is often expected by those who don't have any reason to be in the bad graces of their lord. Your nephew, Sir Vargas Enguerrand, the knight acting as the lord's townward and representative reeve in Sherfieldton, suggests adding a few soldiers to the crews, especially bowmen or slingers. A few other sailors could also be press-ganged in Sherfieldton in order to fill any of the gaps in the crews.
  
  Your tax collectors request to wait until the levies have been deployed, since they imagine they will encounter trouble due to the amount of armed tenants around. Tonis argues that the servile population could still be assessed.
  
• 
  ✵ Cʟᴀɴ MᴀᴄEᴀɴʀᴜɪɢ ✵
  Hɪɢʜ Lᴏʀᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴏғ Kʀᴀɢᴡʏɴ
  
  The day following your return to Kragwyn Keep, outlying villages report sightings of the King's host on the road, on his way up from the Borough of Aerchran. He has already crossed Derford Bridge, and nears Killdarren. People have lined up along the road to watch the mighty Tharon Grenn and his entourage pass through. They bow and shout, with some villfolk calling on their King to deliver them from the Carmons' yoke.
  
  Your councilors and hearthsmen have gathered in the Great Hall of Kragwyn Keep, sipping from cups of watered wine. Sir Bruce enjoys a roasted leg of chicken, gnawing off a piece. "We've made what preparations we can, although his approach is admittedly... sooner than expected," he remarks after swallowing.
  
  "I fear that our king may have been turned away from some of his own hearthsmen's castles. Saves him time on his circuit, at the very least," Lord Amos says.
  
  
  Lord Amos
  
  "The scout said he counted at least ten score horses, my lord. The haywards of the villages ought to be wrung for fodder, otherwise we are going to have to pay our townlings dearly for it," grumbles Sir Gordon. It was yet another expense anticipated for when your castle begins hosting the king and his sizable retinue.
  
  
  Sir Gordon
  
  It is not long before several of the king's heralds arrive just ahead of his main entourage. The royal reception is imminent. A few curious travelers and villagers have already gathered outside the gates. Some attempt to speak to a royal herald, but quickly grow frustrated after being ignored. Some freeborn men in Fyrdos always feel the need to make themselves heard by the king, on the grounds of their supposed ancient rights. In practice, however, they are shoved back by Grenn men-at-arms, and mailed horses block their way. A path is cleared for the approaching retinue, and only a fool would stand in the path of the many war horses that followed.
  
  
  King Grenn
  
  There are hundreds of hoofbeats, growing ever louder as a forest of painted lances draws close, pennants and banners of various colours fluttering in the wind. Many of the horses are covered in maille or scaled caparisons, others with cruder ones of hardened leather or a patchwork of sewn iron rings. Whatever adorned the beasts, an armoured horse of any kind was considered to belong to the peak of Fyrdos's warrior elite. Perhaps half of the mounts in the king's entourage are covered.
  
  Your liege lord himself, the King of Fyrdos - though derisively, merely 'King of Kuldren' - steps down from his horse and passes off the reins to a royal groom. The advisors on either side of you begin to lower themselves before their king. Tharon acknowledges the perfunctory kneelings and bows, before embracing you. "Your great Lordship," he greets. The king plants a kiss on either of your cheeks. "I thank you for your hospitality, and wish you and your clan strong seeds this planting season."
  
  The King speaks with you in confidence, later on. "Albert, I have something to ask of you - as you know, our land stands at the precipice of war, from within and without. I have received reports that Darndon and Sherfield will soon be at one another's throats, and that there is bloodshed in and about Flamebay. I think you will agree that Carmondy and its lords have delivered great injustices to our realm. I will admit to you that my crown seems to be a very cheap thing... Yet I still wear it, as I endure humiliation after humiliation at the hands of my foreign overlords, and not to mention these damnably ungovernable 'noble' men at home."
  
  Tharon continues to talk plainly. "Your family has a strong claim on the Fyrdosian crown, as does mine... Yet, it was not in the ancient custom of our own confederation that this king came to sit on his throne - he was placed there by another agent. I would have it that Edmund is no longer my master, even if it puts the legitimacy of my kingship up in the air... if it must, it can be talked upon by a moot of our great lords. In Gwyburgh, no less - after our land is made free."
  
  The King nods at you. "Tell me what you have to say on this matter, my servant. Offer your counsel..."
  
  (1) Your castle's town. Detached from Kragwyn Keep, but within eyeshot.
• 
  ❖ Eᴀʀʟᴅᴏᴍ ᴏғ Sʏᴋᴇs ❖
  
  Tax gathering is set to begin soon. A request is made by your feudal officers for you to commit a certain number of extra troops to stay behind and assist in carrying out this task.
  
  Your horsemen surround the encampment of brigands, laying in wait. During the night, one bandit drunkenly wanders too close to your lines, and is knifed by one of the sergeants. At dawn, the raid commences. You and your cavalry appear without warning, swiftly riding into the camp. A score of outlaws, as well as a few camp followers, relatives and Fishers' Town women, are all captured. About a dozen of the thieves were killed during a brief spat of resistance that their camp put up when some of them haplessly drew their swords. One outlaw managed to unhorse a sergeant with a swing of his staff, before making a daring escape into the brush. An interrogation of the captured members of the band reveals the man's name to be 'Joth Swan', who is apparently of renowned acrobatic ability and agility. He is the only member of Garton's bandits known to have escaped - though there may have been at least a few who simply weren't at the camp at the time.
  
  There is the question of what to do with the other camp members such as the women and few children, but otherwise the captured bandits are all taken to Bernadock and hanged in the harbour square, much like their leader had been. The condemned souls are pelted with rotten food and the jeers of townlings, and it is not long before they put on the scaffolds.
  
  
  Spring planting finally begins to conclude as the last of the seeds are put into the soil, and the early bloomtime crops are harvested. Conscription of freemen begins in the various domains around the earldom. A few men are arrested by the local bailiffs after failing to appear at muster, and are briefly thrown in the gaol, before horsewhippings are meted out by a few sergeants of House Roth.
  
  Two more sergeants, with one ahorse, join your forces in Bernadock. Five other ordinary horsemen with grey or beige surcoats, rounceys, helmets, lances, and padded jacks offer you their swords in the same town. Following the advice of Sir Arenos, your arrayers broaden their search for potential recruits beyond the town walls and into the surrounding hinterlands, and manage to drum up twenty-four extra bowmen. Most of them turn up with particoloured tunics, metal skullcaps, and a short self or recurve bow. Only four men out of this group have bows of a similar height to themselves.
  
  Beasts, carts, wagons, tents, and provisions are gathered up in Ithgen. A few complaints are made by the locals concerning mischief and thievery among the gathered men. Those who brought inadequate supplies of foodstuffs are the most likely culprits - as well as those who brought more than adequate quantities of drink. One of the men, an archer from Sorbry, is caught stealing a ham from someone's house and is badly beaten by peasants, then arrested. At least two fathers complain of deflowered daughters, and demand that the freeborn levies responsible be made to marry them. A third case involving an already-married man engaged in the same activity results in calls for his execution.
  
  Aside from these incidents, the mustering of the army at Ithgen goes relatively well. A few stragglers arrive, further bolstering your ranks of levied men. The last few cartloads of supplies and gear soon reach Ithgen, and your forces prepare to move. Over one thousand men are here.
  
  
  
  As you pass through the Barony of Envale, the estates owned by Duc Selastin Melayne and his cousin Phillipe de Oriflamme are put the torch, and their employees and servants captured. One Flamebay man attempted to ride away, but was felled by a crossbow quarrel after several of your earldom's soldiers shot at him. Another retainer at Sunwick attempted to engage in a swordfight against ten men at once, to little avail, and he was sliced to pieces. Other than those two, it appears that all whom you have captured are scribes and clerks of no real standing. Some armour harness and weapons are found, suggesting that the two slain men could have equipped themselves as men-at-arms, if they were not caught unawares by your army's advance.
  
  You do not receive a reply from Lord Firth, but doubtless, he will be angered at these depredations in his subenfeoffed lands.

​

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Ruling on Town Killing, Levy Crackdown
Lord Amias had expected conflict with the High Lord Cerham to begin shortly after the fight at Freyk which had left egos on both sides bruised. However, the better part of a fortnight had now passed since he'd raised a small levy of his townsfolk.

However, the most action had been found in Sherfieldton itself - the town's population had swelled by several hundred following Amias' call to arms, with military-aged men without family or jobs in town - needless to say, they spent most of their time roving the town. During the debauchery, a levied man from the countryside murdered a commoner of the town; for this the mayor of Sherfield requested the soldier be hanged publicly, a request which Amias would judiciously grant, sequestering the criminals' property to the victim's family. Further, Lord Amias would Instruct the mayor to work with the town watch and Bailiff's retinue to crack down on misconduct in the levies, punishing all those found fighting, harassing townsfolk, committing robbery or thievery, and other petty crimes.

Shipmasters' Compensation
The shipmasters of Sherfieldton had requested compensation of one gold a day for the arrest of their cogs for the purposes of the upcoming war. Due to the fighting not occurring as soon as expected, Amias would only be able to agree to half of the fee requested. Sailors from Sherfieldton would staff the cogs, and small detachments of bowmen would join the crew, the rest of the ship's capacity being filled with primarily foot sergeants from Amias' own retinue and the levy, with retained footmen filling the cracks.

Levy Upgrades & Tax Evaluation
After the imposing of fines on the levied men who's equipment is inadequate, the collected gold is reinvested to bring their equipment up to par. On top of the orders for the maintaining of armories in Sherfieldton, Holmfirth, and at Amias' keep, Lord Amias would order new shoes, jacks, and helmets for those levies whom had mustered with insufficient arms.

Lord Amias would be petitioned by the tax collectors to hold off on the evaluation of the lordship, due to the levy having been put into place. They fear reprisal from the large amount of armed men around. Though, Lord Amias would agree with his steward, Tonis, and order that the evaluation begin anyway. Amias' subjects were bound by law to pay their dues, and it wasn't like the taxmen were there to collect yet, only to survey. Let any man who would assail one of their liege's bailiffs face the due consequence. Further, it would make visits to countryside fiefdoms less difficult, as their men would be levied in town.

War Council Meeting: Darndon
Lord Amias would meet with his council to discuss the state of things.

"I may have been premature in my mobilizing of the townsfolk. I had expected to trade blows with Mallick shortly after our men had in Freyk, but no trouble had yet to come from the man. To stand down the levy with no action would be an embarrassment. You all know, some of you will even remember, that the Lordship of Shepbrook was once held by House Glens, a noble house owing fealty to my own. When our last Lord Glens died with no heir, a family named Gorth, relatives of Cerham but then subjects of House Enguerrand, took control and threw off their allegiance to my father, instead pledging fealty to Lord Mallick. Thus, Sir Filibert Glens and his family hold legitimate claims to the Lordship of Shepbrook in my name. If another week passes without any move by the High Lord, I believe pressing this claim by force of arms will be our next course of action. How do you all view this endeavor?"

War Council Meeting: Lanidor
Amias would thereafter explore another avenue of use of his levy. "It is of no secret that Lord Lanidor to our north is weak, and his power hollow -- despite his cadre of vassal lords, he does not hold the title of High Lord, due to his inability to fully press fealty upon those lords. It is possible that King Grenn is unimpressed with Lord Lanidor's rule over the villages, and would prefer the local nobility to be reigned in, especially when loyalties are dubious enough as it is. If nothing comes of the disagreement with Mallick, perhaps we shall ask for our King's ear on the matter?"

Messages to Allies
Following the council meeting, Amias would send messages to Lord Lanidor and Lord Thorpe. He would inform his allies of his mobilization, and suggest that war is imminent -- he would share his strategy to fortify and defend around Holmfirth, hopefully drawing Cerham into a decisive battle there, and in the event of victory moving on to capture the village of Shepbrook, and raze it's surrounding hamlets, before eventually putting Cerham Castle to siege.

In the message to Lord Lanidor, Amias would advise that he put Tarren Moyes onto a high alert, as an assault from Cerham Castle on his lordship would be swift and likely overwhelming, and would no doubt lead to the looting of Norsyth and siege of Lanidor Keep. He would also request that his retinue be given favor and access in and around the hamlets of Fedley and Freyk, as the two villages would serve as strategic positions in the upcoming skirmishes with Mallick, and whomever is able to project power from those places will hold a significant advantage. This petition would be forwarded to the Lord of Granswold if need be, as he is the overlord of Fedley and Freyk; Gareth would be surrendering military access to Lord Amias, but would suddenly find his easternmost holdings well secured and fortified against any marauders from Darndon.

FoS Wikia
In the evening, Amias recounted happenings occurring to his east, around Flamebay and Sunwick.

In the northlands, the Baron of Brightwood had invaded his neighbor of Muldhold, taking the village of Justyn. After a period of gathering forces, an army led by Galark Styervrigante, Baron of Ishtear and brother-in-law of King Edmund met an army led by Duc Selastin of Sunwick, with the baronies of Muldhold and Dripwood attending the royalist cause and Brightwood that of the Duke. The rebels were victorious, Galark murderd - some say by Selastin himself, others by a gang of his retainers, and the Royalist army put to rout. Since, most of the lands of the defeated have been incorporated into Brightwood, with the caput of House Styervrigante still holding assumingly holding fast against a siege in Galarhold, a month after the Battle of Waraslar. It is yet to be seen how King Edmund and his supports will reply to Galark's killing -- the nearest candidates for delivering swift retribution would be the Baron of Envale and Earl of Sykes, though Lord Amias knows not what agenda those distant lords pursue. There was also chance that either Prince Rylan or Grand Marshal Erhard would lead the King's army north to rebut Melayne and his cohorts' machinations, if the southern barons were susceptible to their forces being levied for such an effort.

By the Flamebay, Lords Mardas and Bomric had gone to war after Bomric usurped some border village between their two baronies of Myre and Aldwyn; the consequences had been significant for both sides, after bringing their allies to the conflict; the baronies of Yonbry, Scarwin, Swanton, Berngard, and Dripwood. The Lordship of Oading in the Barony of Scarwin has been devastated by an army led by the young Robert Cherbourg of Berngard, while recent reports indicated that Lord Swanton has been forced to surrender his castle to the rebels, paving their way to Wesgrath. Latest reports indicated that both armies were moving in the direction of Bronsfield, where Lord Bomric may respond to recent attacks by Lord Robert.

The Baron of Flamebay himself had sought fit to finally rid the mainland of Carmondy of his rival, the Baron of Skerry's holdings. After a short battle, the riders from Rooster Keep wrought destruction on those holdings, and their stewards were forced to promptly surrender after only a couple weeks of resistance.

And of course, one could not forgot the Sacking of Byron's Bastion. A confederation of wildermen had assaulted the fortress in the furthest northeast reaches of Fyrdos, sacking its' town and slaughtering numerous innocents. Though the barbarian hordes were rebuffed and their numbers culled by several hundreds, the makings of alliance between the primitives posed a grim picture.

Wikia Cont. Local Threats
There were also local threats looming over Amias' lordship, in the form of the bandit Lord of Lethran and the Geadisch of Fynbroke.

Amias' courtiers had informed him months ago of the Lord of Lethran's lands falling into banditry and lawlessness, and more recently he had learned of the possibility that Lethran and his vassals themselves had turned toward brigandage. Sir Greydan had informed Amias that brigands equipped as men-at-arms and knights but lacking heraldry (much like Amias' guards at his illegal lumber yard) had been conducting robberies nearby the town of Alenton, lorded over by House Doylehard, rivals of Amias' in-laws. The scoundrels had yet to seriously target Daelstride nor Porthaewidge, but there are chances that the criminals will turn their attentions soon enough.

The inevitable raiding season of the Geadisch was possibly a more pressing issue. They were a particularly influential strain of woodsfolk which had clung desperately to their ancestral sanctum of Fynbroke, a slaver castle hidden deep within the woodlands north of the lands of Torrek. Their leader, Artair, had styled himself like his forefathers as the Lord of Fynbroke. Amias' house had been in small conflicts with the Geadisch countless times over the many years, most recently when Geadisch marauders pillaged the lordships of Chepsworth and Granswold - spillover had resulted in the harrying of Amias' subjects' properties nearby the targeted holdings, harrying which Amias had responded to, resulting in deadly skirmishes. That having been two years ago, the time had come that the Geadisch would likely set out on another raiding expedition yet again -- Paragon knows whom the heathenous 'Lord of Fynbroke' will sic his wardogs unto next.​

---

Trouble in Town
- Amias would grant the mayor's petition to have the rock-thrower hanged.
- He would grant the criminal's land in the country to the victim's townling family, despite the rural classes' common objections to townlings gaining country land
- The mayor and the bailiff of Sherfieldton are ordered to crackdown on petty crime, by the levies or otherwise, with the use of the town watch and Bailiff's retinue. If required, additional retainers can be dispatched to quell the turpitude.

Shipmasters' Compensation
- Amias would only agree to half the requested one gold a day.
- Sailors from Sherfieldton would staff the cogs, accompanied by a small detachment of bowmen (4-8), the most of the rest of the ships' capacity being filled with retained and townling sergeants (6-12) and the cracks being filled with retained footmen (5-10)

Levy Fines
- Reinvest 100 gold collected from fines on poorly equipped levies to bring their equipment up to standard.

Tax Evaluation
- Order the evaluation to go ahead despite worries of resistance from the levies.

Council Meeting
- Talk about House Glens' claim on the Lordship of Shepbrook, and how House Enguerrand may go about pressing it in the case that Mallick makes no move of his own.
- Talk about Lord Lanidor's decentralized power base, and discuss whether King Grenn may support House Enguerrand's bid to lord over his domain in his stead, as he has proven ineffective.

Message to Thorpe
- Tell Thorpe that war is imminent
- Tell him about the mobilization of the townling levies
- Outline strategy to fortify and mass troops at Holmfirth, bait Cerham into battle there, and then attack Shepbrook by land and by river, while the Lord of Midburgh hopefully strikes near Rystreck.

Message to Lanidor
- War imminent, mobilization, strategy same as Thorpe
- Suggest he put Lord Tarren Moyes on high alert, since a surprise attack there from Cerham Castle would be devastating
- Request military access at the hamlet and village of Fedley and Freyk, due to their strategic locations. Forward this request to Lord Gareth Granswold if necessary.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

As Robert drew nearer to the origin of the haunting scent, a disturbing amalgamation of smoke and burnt wood seized his senses. It wrapped around him like a sinister embrace, casting a dark veil over the air and sending shivers down his spine. The once-fresh breeze now carried a malevolent presence, as if the essence of danger and decay had materialized. Each inhalation was an invitation to a realm of shadows, where the lingering remnants of fire and destruction whispered of hidden malevolence and unseen threats. Beneath the surface of this noxious perfume, a vile and unsettling odor clawed its way into his nostrils, assaulting his senses with its acrid, repugnant tendrils. It was a scent that reeked of malevolence, as though the charred remnants exuded the essence of wickedness and suffering.

With cautious steps, he approached the source, the intensity of the scent growing with each passing moment. The air became thick with a chilling memory, evoking images of dark rituals and ominous gatherings. The smoke, now intermingled with the scorched remnants, seemed to writhe with a sinister energy, as if it were a living entity seeking to ensnare his very soul. Every breath he took intertwined him further into a macabre tale, as the scent whispered of ruin and despair. The fragrance of smoke and burnt wood, tainted with a malevolent aura, imprinted itself on his senses, forever altering his perception of the world into a realm of shadows and dancing flames.

For a week, the men had rode from hamlet to hamlet, farm to farm, burning and pillaging all that they witnessed. There was no glory or honor; it was a slaughter. Like chattel being culled in the wake of a plague, the settlements burned and indeed had to be burned for the war effort. It was all for the greater good, Robert consoled himself as the men unleashed judgement upon Bronsfield, inflicting vengence for their Lords' sins. Robert muttered a short prayer to the Paragon before he was interrupted by a man in the livery of Swanton.

---

Robert stood in silence for a few seconds as he heard the wisdom of his Uncles. Both had their merits. It would be the prudent choice to ride back to Wesgrath to join the levies raised there. Yet, approaching the men from the south was an opportunity to win a decisive victory that could quickly end this war. Robert looked to Lord Mardas and said "Uncle, I urge you to ride swift to Wesgrath with only a few of your most trusted men. However, I ask that you leave me your able men. I have a gambit in mind and ask that you trust me to deliver us a great victory while you prepare the levies to truly end this war." Robert then looked to Lord Phillip and said "Ready the men. The plan is to ride east to make it seem like we are falling back to Wesgrath. To emphasize this, ask the men to discard any spoils that they gathered in the middle of the open field to the south east as if we are lightening ourselves to flee faster, but assure them that we will recover the spoils and more. We will ride east until we are out of sight and hidden behind the woods near Ramscrest. If I know these Bandit Lords well enough, they will attempt to at least give chase at first, but some if not all will fall to their greed and attempt to secure the spoils and baggage we left behind, thinking that they successfully scared us off with their superior numbers. It is at that time that we will come charging in from the east and into them while they are distracted and split apart thanks to our bait. Hurry! Time is of the essence if this plan is to work."

---

Summary:

Robert asks Lord Mardas to ride back to Wesgrath with a small bodyguard, but to trust in Robert's plan to catch the enemy by surprise.

Robert orders the men to start riding east/south east to make it appear as if the entire mounted host is withdrawing and leaving to head towards Wesgrath. To emphasize this appearance, the men are instructed to discard their loot in the middle of the field while the men ride east (to make it seem like we are panicking at the sight of the slightly more numerous force and discarding our luggage to travel lighter/faster) until they are out of sight by riding towards the north eastern side of the dense woods to the west of Ramscrest. With the bait set, the men are to silently wait for the enemy to stop, split up and start gathering the discarded loot before the men all charge from the east and ideally catching the enemy by surprise and all split up and not ready to receive a unified mounted charge with the heavier mounted men leading the charge and the more lightly armed mounted men in the rear and flanks of the charge.

 

[Lorsh]

Ω Ꮯꮮꭺɴ Ꮐꭼꭺꭰꮖꮪꮯꮋ Ω

The thralls have finished sowing the bloomtime seeds, and the clanfolk are eager to begin this spring's raids. Presumably, some of them have already been doing it since the snows first melted.


Blanwech

Your ancestral lands near the village of Blanwech were recently reclaimed from the Lordship of Estwin on the other side of the hill range. All his subjects in that vill are now yours, though maybe half of them have fled rather than live under your rule, thinking their children will enslaved or maybe boiled into soup - who knows. A wizened veteran of many raids, Trelk fen Burmac, assumed rulership of the town.


Aeldorman Trelk

Similarly, the sizable hamlet of Falacree - which was also under the control of the Lordship of Estwin - has been seized by your warriors as well. A few valiant raiders were killed during initial clashes with the peasant locals and rival clanfolk, but the foemen were eventually driven off or slain. A local warlord from your tribe, Dregwin fen Naoghas, killed the most number of men - including the village knight - and so later declared himself Aeldorman of Falacree.

All the new aeldormen are on good terms with you; it would be foolish to make such proclamations otherwise.

From the seat of power in your moss-covered keep of Fynbroke, your people have remained the custodians of these ancient woodlands since time immemorial. The laws of the other lands in this realm do not apply to you - it as if their essence is scattered by the tall trees. You are only a tangential vassal to the King of the Fyrdosians. In truth, you are a lord unto yourself, who knows no law but the sword. The Geadisch have not ceased their ways of banditry and raids.

Though shielded by its mighty forests, rumours have slowly trickled into your little lordship... There are whispers of chaos in greater Fyrdos, of many brewing wars of lord against lord. Byron's Bastion has been sacked by the Stone Clans, and Eogan divines that 'Lord Robert', the High Lord of the MacEanruigs, sacrificed his life to save Byron during the battle.

Even with these increasingly dauntless barbarian incursions aside, the word is that the realm is teetering perilously close to anarchy. Private feuds, which are supposed to be proscribed by the king, are beinging to reignite. Nobles and commoners alike have taken to banditry in other parts of the realm, or have spurned King Grenn during his circuit - which, it should be noted, has never included Fynbroke Castle. Instead, you are expected to liaison with royal officials at shifting meeting points; the townlings in Hedgton(1) despise the Geadisch, and you are specifically declared an outlaw by the royal burgh.

Your relationship with the King, Tharon Grenn, has been strained in the past... but he has never turned his sword against you. Apparently, he blames you for when several royal men-at-arms were killed in skirmish with militiamen from Hedgton, who attacked the king's circuit court as it met with your clansmen near Arsly.

Lord-Sheriff Daric, a cadet of the mighty Graffoth Clan from Coedensoke, was placed in charge of the burgh, and did well mopping up the king's enemies. However, his appointment spelled ill news for your people as well... for some of your men had kidnapped and murdered Daric's sister several years ago, leaving him with a bitter vendetta against your tribe. Strangely enough - concerning his appointment by the king, Clan Grenn has traditionally been at oddly with Clan Graffoth, as the heads of both houses maintain rival claims to the throne. Eogan the Seer says that the people of Hedgton hate their Lord-Sheriff almost as much as they despise you... but a man of his brutality, perhaps, was the only thing that could put those townlings in line. He had a vision of a great quarrel between Daric and the rest of the Graffoth clan.

A few months ago, Murchag's scouts eyed several Clan Grenn hearthmen entering the Hedgton town gates. They never left, suggesting that the King reinforced his garrison. Tharon Grenn definitely no longer seems to be a reliable ally; those men will doubtless be used against you.


Fynbroke

Your kinfolk in Fynbroke fret about having enough food for winter, since at least a few hundred people now live in and around your castle. Some villfolk have left the hamlets of Arsly and Trendor and come to offer themselves to your service, apparently finding little distinction between serfdom and thralldom. Still, their numbers are few and far between, with the majority of the populace holding your people in disdain, and cling to their traditional lords no matter how sorry the protection they grant them is.

(1) Alternative to "Hedgeton"​

 

[Myxyzptlk]

The Call of the Morning

Artair's eyes had all but been looming toward the open windows of the keep. Moss and kudzu creeped towards the edges; the flicker of green comfortably waved at the Lord of Fynbroke. Hair long and beard untamed he was always disheveled. The events of the past weeks preoccupied his thoughts and only seemed to further aid the Lord's irritability. Among other things he was an active presence in the far west of the known world. Previous to Artair invoking thoughts of barbarous creatures snatching merchants from the streets and leading violent raids in the dark of night the Geadisch were a fabled clan that had been reduced to neglect and unimportance while southern lords prospered.

Artair and the current state of Fynbroke was a symptom of that neglect. Perhaps out of need for recompense or from a place of pure spite the assaults began but the Geadisch were now a recurring issue for the Southern puppets and the meek Fyrdosian vassals who are indifferent to their status within the realm. Artair's plans seemed an anomaly to other lords but for him it was a simple matter of pride. There was a growing disdain for the clans who conceded to the comforts of Carmondian powers forming in the pits of his bowels. The Geadisch clan raids succeeded in claiming the immediate territories that once belonged to Artair's dynasty. There was certainly more work to do in that department as his plans would require him to continue further.

Administration
Artair moved from the keep. The more he sat upon the pretentious throne the less productive he felt. Having the patience to carry out his will became a problem whenever he was left with his thoughts and thus he determined himself to oversee Fynbroke in person. A real leader is one you can see, or so he thought. There was things he needed to address in preparation for the next raid. Artair had his own reservations as to what next needed doing but he could not do so without consulting the rest of his troop which he trusted. Among them was Caheal Fen Maguire Geadisch, his advisor and cousin, whom was chief among Artair's ensemble that challenged Artair the most and was the source of much ire for the lord. Of course, Caheal's knowledge had proved invaluable and this staved off Artair's urge to pickle his head in a jar.

The other of which was his marshal, Taog "Bold as Boars", he was not of any reputable dynasty but rather was raised in Fynbroke to village farmers. Taog's hunky mass made him a prime candidate for raids as soon as he was fifteen years of age. Taog had seen action in petty bandit raids under Artair's father and would be one of the few that could bare to maintain a brotherhood with Artair. Such conditions made him the suitable candidate for marshalling when Artair had to elect his court advisors among the keep's populous. The two advisors now were important pieces in Artair's legislative decision making process as he ushered the duo into the war room.

The events that preceded the morning had fuzzed Artair's mind on domestic matters. Artair required careful review and would deliberate with Caheal regarding the current status of the treasury, needed improvements to Fynbroke castle, provisions and necessities for the newly annexed territories, and the state of farming. For Taog the discussions were more notably centered on the martial affairs of Clan Geadisch. Artair wanted to know the exact sums of total troops, raiders, veteran raiders, bowmen, javelinmen, slingers, shieldmen, mounted veterans, mounted lancers, and reavers.

A nasty bit of business

An equally important matter to Artair was the current status and count of thralls among Fynbroke castle. The thralls of Clan Geadisch were almost as famous as the clan itself. The peculiar dynamic of slavery's existence within the walls of Fynbroke and the surrounding villages were the fascination of criers and warning bells throughout Fyrdos. The process of managing thralls was it's own separate chore for the chieftan. It was among Taog's tasks for the week to tally the number of enslaved and to divide them among healthy, fit, and elderly. Bad actors among the thralls were also to be singled out and used for training for the levies to keep their martial craft sharpened. Those that behaved were treated more amiably although their statuses within Geadisch society were always known as secondhand, and likewise their treatment would similarly be.

A village hard at work
After adjourning his meeting with his advisors Artair preferred to walk among the common rabble and to learn of the needs of his people directly. If one was a free folk inside the walls of Fynbroke castle it was not uncommon to approach the Lord with one's grievances or to hold passing conversation. Granted, it was not wise to make idle of one's time with the Lord given his slim temper but he was reachable among those who lived under him. An exception to this were of course the thralls whom Artair never deigned look upon. The outlier to this rule was Eogan the Seer. Eogan was a rarity among the thralls for his status as an elder. The majority of elders in bandit raids were slain promptly, and the ones that were captured were used as fodder for the levies to train with. Eogan however served a different purpose and held some manner of value for the Lord. At times, Eogan was more knowledgeable about the status of the thralls than Taog. Furthermore, Eogan spoke in detail about the thoughts and patterns of the thralls. The result of this was that Artair usually had wind of dissenters before they would lash out. Artair's last step was to ask Murchag about the findings regarding Hedgeton, the two deliberated and it was agreed that talk of infiltration or a full scouting party would need to be discussed regarding the strength of troops at the garrison.

Aggressive Expansion
Artair would later call for a second meeting among his two advisors. At the end of every raid required the need to select separate targets for the next raid. Historically, this was a cycle of well travelled merchant paths. However, as the expansion into the recently acquired territories began, the ambitions of the Geadisch lord had become sweltering. Artair's destination of choice would be the encompassing villages of Hedgeton. Their positioning near the forests and their debated status as Geadisch lands made them a priority for the Lord. Caheal urged Artair to consider Loddoth and Estwin and the encompassing areas as they left unsettled business after planting themselves in Blanwich and Falacree. Taog suggested further south and to target Trendor and Weskrund.

The debating commenced and no sooner had it began had Artair become greatly frustrated with his advisors. Artair adjourned the meeting early, demanding the information he asked for in the previous meeting and declaring his decision would be made after better information was provided. The bickering of such a topic flared his short fused temper rather quickly given its importance to the Lord. His earlier visit with the common rabble allowed him to catch wind of what Murchag's scouting party discovered. Artair now needed to weigh his options considerably. There was some slight good fortune however as an influx of Arsly and Trendor commoners would add a meager bolster to their ranks. With the addition of more thralls the opportunity to annex more territories into Geadisch hands was becoming a likelier outcome.
​

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Troops

• Get a total troop count
• Get total counts of each specialized troops
• Record the number of thralls
• Single out bad acting thralls as training fodder

Administration

• Check on the status of the treasury
• Check on the state of farming
• Write to the village chiefs of Falacree and Blanwech regarding provisions and necessities
• Check on the status of Tanderwon and Bronnant
• See what improvements need to be made for Fynbroke Castle

 

[Lorsh]

Spoiler: Music

Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏғ Bʀᴏɴsғɪᴇʟᴅ

Your uncle flips up his visored greathelm. "Aye, nephew. The men of Wesgrath will fly to your aid. Hiyah!" cries Lord Mardas, spurring his horse and galloping off with four Aldwyn men-at-arms, as well as his squire.

You rally your men to the best of your ability, and although they are shaken by the sudden arrival of the foe, they are quick to look to you for guidance. Although somewhat begrudgingly, they begin to discard their loot as they enact your plans. Barrels of ale and wine from the local taverns and temple, respectively, are left behind - as are cartloads of chests filled with personal valuables, huge sacks of grain, and bundles of valuable tools. Dozens of head of cattle are abandoned, along with untold crowns' worth of various other plundered goods. A woman is shoved aside, left crying in the village streets in a torn dress.



There is a sense of chaos, and the retreat is anything but orderly - but that simply makes the farce look more real! Some of the host's servants are inevitably left behind, but most of them manage to flee alongside your armed men after being saved by their masters, or else untying the carthorses and mules from the the wagons and mounting those. Still, if you were to look over your shoulder, you would see at least one servant boy being cornered and struck down by a group of angry villagers.

After your cavalry reach the cover of the treeline, there is a slight clamour as many lances and flagstaffs clatter against the branches. At least one man-at-arms is unhorsed by the foliage, but he is able to get back up afterwards.

Your lords, knights and seasoned men-at-arms form the front ranks, every horse barded in mail or gamboised trappers, and every man saddled atop them in steel or iron chain. The young squires, poor men-at-arms and sergeants begin to form the ranks behind them, followed by the valots, the lighter horsemen and the mounted rangers. Lord Volstaff, Lord Philip, Sir Maychard Saylor, and two of the sons of Lord Mardas, your cousins Sir Darrian and Sir Gautham Aldwyn, take up positions alongside you, lest you arrange them differently. Master Eshen is also here; the Swanton men have decided to fight with you, despite their lord's apparent surrender back at their castle. "If we have victory here, we shall retake our home soon after. Lord Jetrin's submission will be void... To that end, we will fight alongside you, my lord."

The horses and their riders break out of the treeline, slowly picking up the pace as they gallop back to Bronsfield. The enemy turn their heads and widen their eyes in fear. At least one pair of foemen had actually been fighting each other at swordpoint over one of the loot carts, but suddenly find themselves allies again. Men rush to grab their lances and climb back on their horses, others simply draw swords. Scores of mounted warriors have come to meet you, but the countercharge of the Myre, Yonbry and Scarwin forces does not have the same numbers, or momentum that it would have otherwise had in a pitched battle. Many of their men are still on foot - at least half of them.

A wave of heavy beasts and heartless steel washes over the enemy. Your lance suddenly breaks off in something's flesh amidst the tangle of men and horses - you're not sure which one it is. As your mount surges forward, you hear a sickening crack as one of its ironshod hooves meets what sounds like someone's skull.

Although a great many foemen are cut down in the initial clash, with arrows and bolts flying into their flanks, your host's momentum gradually slows - at least in the centre - as it becomes bogged down in a brutal melee. The heaviest horse have slammed into the enemy where they are thickest, and so the dance of sword and lance begins.



Master Eshen's hauberk absorbs one lance strike, but as he reels, he takes another to the throat, which pierces through his standard of mail and kills him at the same time he skewers his slayer; a Yonbry man-at-arms. His horse keeps going, and nearly runs into yours. Your horse rears, in spite of its training, and it gives time for a knight of Myre to ride towards you. His lance shatters against your helm - thankfully a glance - but the momentum is enough to send you tumbling from the saddle.

Your uncle Lord Philip has already planted his sword through the eyeslit of the knight that unhorsed you, before wrenching his blade free with a crimson spray. After meting out this small vengeance, he lingers long enough to ensure you are back on your feet and able to draw your weapon, before he goes about rejoining the fray.

You are not given any time to gain your bearings. A valot with a ram stitched on his gambeson comes out of seemingly nowhere, swinging a two-handed cleaver into your chest. You are briefly staggered, but it otherwise it harmlessly bounces off your jackoplates - though, it may have loosened a few rivets. The valot's head is suddenly broken open when Sir Gautham swings a ball and chain - you get a small dash of brains on your surcoat - but then another man-at-arms spears your cousin's warhorse in the eye, straight through the small ocular hole cut in its mail caparison. You hear Sir Gautham yell and unsheathe his sword as his horse falls on top of him. He continues to scream afterwards, saying something, but his voice is heavily muffled by his helm.

Three men push their way past their other comrades in order to confront your fallen cousin - he is nearly defenceless with his leg being pinned under his fallen steed, not to mention the beast's heavy coat of mail. Still, he refuses to yield.

Two of the foe are clad in chain from head to foot, wielding shield and sword, and wearing non-discernible, plainly-coloured surcoats. The other is a sergeant in a Buckell livery coat, carrying only a sword that he now swings with both hands, the blade clanging off of Gautham Aldwyn's helm.​

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

What if I want to make you understand that the path you chose leads to downfall
But you only understand the language of the sword

What if I want to tell you to leave me and my beloved ones in peace
But you only understand the language of the sword

So my tongue shall become iron
and my words the mighty roar of war​

With a thunderous roar, Robert raised his lance, signaling the charge. The knights bellowed war cries that echoed through the air, fueling the flames of their courage. The ground beneath them shook as the men surged forward, their horses galloping with unrestrained power. The collision was a cataclysmic clash of might and fury. The sound of thundering hooves mingled with the clash of steel, drowning out the cries of the fallen and the wounded. The impact was bone-jarring, as knights collided with bone-crushing force, their weapons slashing and thrusting in a desperate dance of survival. Blood spattered the ground, painting the field in a macabre tapestry of violence. Swords and axes cleaved through armor, seeking gaps and weak points with deadly precision. The knights fought with grim determination, their faces hidden behind visors, their eyes burning with fierce resolve.

Splintered shields littered the ground, bearing witness to the onslaught of relentless blows. Armor became dented and marred, the marks of battle etched upon them like scars. The air filled with the stench of sweat, iron, and the sickening aroma of death. Mounts screamed in pain and terror as they crashed into each other, biting and kicking in a desperate struggle for dominance. Some knights were thrown from their steeds, their bodies meeting the unforgiving ground with bone-shattering impact. Yet they fought on, their survival instincts pushing them to endure. Every swing of a sword was met with a parry, every strike deflected with expert precision. The ground became a canvas of fallen warriors, their lifeless bodies trampled beneath the relentless charge. The wounded writhed in agony, their cries drowned out by the cacophony of battle.

How long had it been since the charge began? What was likely mere minutes felt like long, brutal hours as Robert felt the crush of bones and the rendering of flesh. His horse brayed and reared. A metallic ring suddenly hit Robert as his head was thrown back by a glancing blow of a lance. Soon after, he felt the unusual sensation of his armor pressing against his back as for just a faint moment... Robert found himself captivated by the clear, blue skies. Robert tore his eyes away from the sky, turned to his side and began to rise from the ground. His uncle had expertly dispatched his assailant and kept a look out as Robert regained his balance and drew his sword. With a shout, Lord Philip joined the fray once more. Robert on the other hand found himself facing several others who were unmounted or perhaps never had the chance to get back on their horse. One valot had the misfortune of testing their iron against his steel. Only for him to be rewarded with the alarming and perhaps mind-blowing realization that a cleaver was not a suitable weapon to use to try and take on an armored lord.

Sir Gautham soon found himself on the ground as well as his horse took a spear in the eye. Robert watched as three men pushed past their own to confront Sir Gautham. This day would not be the day that any kin of Robert would find themselves prisoner or dead. Robert gripped his arming sword in both hands. His right on the hilt, and his left on the middle of his blade. With a fury, Robert approached the distracted men who without a doubt had their mind on trying to capture the trapped knight and earning themselves a handsome ransom. They would pay for their insolence with blood as Robert thrust his sword with both hands towards the rear upper thigh of one of the unmarked men to force him to bend the knee by hamstringing him. They would all bend the knee once Robert was done with them.

 

[Lorsh]

Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏғ Bʀᴏɴsғɪᴇʟᴅ

As you bring your blade towards the foeman, it manages to bypass his stocking of mail, quickly meeting the tendons on the back the man's knee. "Arggh! Damn it! Bastard!" the man cries, swinging his shield into the side of your head, but it merely bounces off of your helm. As he whirls around, his sword glances off the side of your migthy greathelm as well. Athough your ears are left ringing for a moment, you are otherwise unscathed. The hamstrung man-at-arms crumples into a heap, jingling as he writhes, though sometimes his sword arm shoots out in an attempt to slash at you.


The other man-at-arms has turned about to face you, and raises his shield in front of himself. He cuts with his sword and hides behind his shield when he can, tying you up in swordplay for several deadly seconds.

The sergeant becomes distracted at the scuffle, only to have a horse charge into him, knocking him down.

Sir Eftan, one of the sons of Lord Volstaff, rides past and breaks a lance against the man-at-arms that has begun to fight you, sending him to the ground with a choking gasp.

Sir Gautham slashes with his sword, and the House Buckell soldier loses several toes, with the tip of his shoe - and foot - being cut completely off. As he shouts damnations of your cousin to the Abyss, the sergeant crawls towards the knight, attempting to jab his sword past his visor, but it is deftly parried.



A knight appears behind your cousin, hefting a great sword above his head. The blade comes down with such a force that it splits through Gautham's flat-topped greathelm, and blood geysers from the meaty red cleft that it leaves behind. Through the open face on his bascinet, you can see that your cousin's killer is none other than Sir Cortyn Malcress, the Baron of Myre's only son. He is tall lanky and muscular, his green ram surcoat fluttering in the wind. He swings his sword and divorces a charging horse's legs from its body, sending a House Aldwyn man-at-arms soaring - though not before the rider lands a blow upon his head with a flanged mace. The Aldwyn man he unhorsed lands on top of the Buckell sergeant, promptly beginning to wrestle with him.

The blow has staggered Sir Cortyn severely, and blood is now gushing from both of his nostrils. As he lifts his head to look at you again, you see him grimace, his mouth bleeding as if he bit his own tongue off after being struck.​

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Robert stood frozen in horror as he witnessed the brutal slaying of his cousin, Gautham. The knight, Sir Cortyn Malcress, his sworn enemy, had struck with a force that seemed to rend the very air. Gautham's flat-topped greathelm split open, spilling forth a geyser of crimson as his life was extinguished in an instant. Through the visage of his bascinet, Robert saw the face of his cousin's killer. It was none other than Sir Cortyn Malcress, the Baron of Myre's only son. The man stood tall and lanky, his muscles taut and his frame imposing. Adorned in a green ram surcoat that billowed in the wind, he exuded an aura of deadly prowess. The few seconds that Robert had to watch Sir Cortyn... he learned much about him. Sir Cortyn was not interested in wealth nor did he seek valor and glory. He had entered the field of battle for blood. Rather than try to take the trapped knight as prisoner, he would rather cleave his head in two.

Sir Cortyn swung his mighty sword with vicious intent, severing the legs of a charging horse and sending a House Aldwyn man-at-arms flying. But not before the Aldwyn soldier landed a blow upon Sir Cortyn's head with a mace, leaving him staggered and bloodied. As Robert's gaze locked with Sir Cortyn's, he saw the grimace etched upon his face, blood streaming from his nostrils and his mouth. It was as if the blow had taken its toll, inflicting damage that even his formidable resilience could not easily withstand. The sight of his cousin's lifeless form, coupled with the wounds inflicted upon Sir Cortyn, ignited a tumult of emotions within Robert. Grief welled up, mingling with a seething rage. Vengeance beckoned, urging him to avenge Gautham's death at the hands of this murderous knight.

Robert took a moment to pick up the shield of the man at arms that Sir Eftan had lanced. Robert knew that after taking a lance like that... the man at arms would not need his shield. Robert locked eyes with the bloodied heir to the Barony of Myre. Between them were several bodies, his cousin, his horse, and the two men wrestling for their lives though one was on a timer as his foot had been severed. Robert carefully walked to his side while keeping his eyes on Sir Cortyn, circling him like a lion does with its prey. Robert did not want any obstacles between him and Sir Cortyn. Robert knew that he faced a dangerous foe. Sir Cortyn's physical abilities were laudable. Able to rend a helm and practically quarter a horse with his great sword, Sir Cortyn could not be underestimated with his greater range. However, Robert found some comfort in two things. One, his blade surely no longer held such a sharp, pristine edge after cutting through a helmet and a horse. The second was that the knight had taken a mace to the head and likely was shaken if not disorientated from such a strike. Between those two facts, Robert found some solace. He knew he could not play to Sir Cortyn's advantages. With longer reach, the great sword could be used to keep Robert at a distance and at the mercy of Sir Cortyn's pace. Robert had to enter and close the distance.

Thus, Robert lifted his sword and shield and approached Sir Cortyn with determination. He would approach the edge of Sir Cortyn's range and pre-maturely strike/swing early at Sir Cortyn's hands to try and bait a response. Here, Robert aimed to accomplish one of two possibilities. One, Sir Cortyn could try to advance/lunge and strike at Robert. However, this was bait as it would give Robert the opening to aggressively step into Sir Cortyn's guard at the same time that Sir Cortyn stepped forward to try and swing at him. Robert's shield would help him enter into Sir Cortyn's guard with some degree of safety by displacing Cortyn's sword/sword hand. From there, Robert would attempt to throw him to the ground and/or find an opening to finish him off with his sword or dagger. Alternatively, Sir Cortyn could step back to try maintain the advantage with range his great sword offered him and keep Robert at a comfortable distance. However, there were bodies everywhere around Sir Cortyn. One step, and Sir Cortyn would find himself stepping on bodies and potentially losing his balance, once again offering Robert an opening to close the distance and nullify Sir Cortyn's reach then finish him off. Robert would dictate the tempo of this fight and refused to give Sir Cortyn a chance to recover and gather himself.

 

[Lorsh]

Spoiler: Music

Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴏғ Bʀᴏɴsғɪᴇʟᴅ

The Buckell sergeant loses his sword, but manages to produce a dagger, beginning to stab at his foe as they roll about, though the blade fails to find an opening in the Aldwyn armsman's mail harness. The sergeant is, however, able to smash the man-at-arms in the face with his dagger's flowered pommel, and seizes the opportunity to push the other soldier off of him. The sergeant quickly gets to his feet, despite the lack of several toes, and delivers his bloody stump to the head of your uncle's man, sending him sprawling. Staggering almost drunkenly, the Buckell man reaches out towards a rider that has begun to slow down, grabbing the front lacing of a Dripwood valot's gambeson and violently pulling him from his horse, causing him to drop his lance and forcing him to grapple over the dagger the sergeant is wielding. The Aldwyn man grabs the sergeant from behind, but has the brim of his foe's war hat smashed into his teeth when the sergeant jerks his head backwards, making him let go. Finally grabbing hold of his stabbing implement, the toeless sergeant switches his dagger to a reverse grip and begins to plunge it down several times into the face into the face of the valot, also gouging several holes through the man's hands as he tries in vain to protect himself, screaming and gurgling.

"Arghh...!" The lanced man-at-arms, as well as the one you have hamstrung, continue to writhe on the ground in pain. The latter crawls over to the former, and makes an attempt to check on his injuries.



Disorientated and leaking tears of blood from both of his eyes, Sir Cortyn can't help but fall for your feint. You bring your shield up and shove past his great sword to get up close and personal with the foe. Cort drops his unwieldy blade and suddenly grabs hold of your sword arm's wrist using his left hand, before pressing forth with his armoured weight and toppling the both of you over. "Yeawh, sah," he chokes out, crimson-tinted saliva dripping from his chin. He produces his quillon dagger with his left hand.

There is a clang as the sergeant of House Buckell is smashed in the head by the Aldywyn man-at-arms, after the latter retrieved his fallen mace. The blow knocks his helmet aside, and makes him sprawl across the ground in pain. Blood continues to squirt out of where his toes used to be. "Bastard!" Your uncle's man swings his mace with both hands, and the sergeant is struck across the head a second time, cracking his skull beneath the iron skullcap and chain coif.

As Sir Cortyn struggles atop you, he manages to cut the chinstrap on your greathelm, and begins to yank it off. Sir Cortyn snarls down at you... and with a sickening crunch, his eyes are suddenly knocked almost from their sockets when the already-dented bascinet adorning his head receives another fearsome strike from a flanged mace, the knight falling to his knees and prostrating himself. "My lord!" the Aldwyn man-at-arms exclaims, stepping back. It looked like your uncle's man finally got around to finishing the job of dispatching him. But Cortyn remains alive, doubtless a man of extraordinary vigor. Still... he is a sorry sight. His skull is marred with cracks, his eyes bulge nearly out of his head, and his mouth hangs agape, drooling and bloody. If you wished it, you could deliver the coup de grâce right here and now.

Moments later, you hear the tramp of feet - more enemy soldiers begin to menace you, but they are suddenly run down by your charging men. Fighters lose their swords and are sent flying as horses slam into them. Sir Eftan's destrier bucks, kicking a Yonbry armsman's courser straight in the head, toppling the beast and its rider. Your uncle's man smashes down another horseman. There is more fighting to be done... you may have managed to slay several more of the foe, as well. It isn't long before the tide of the battle irreparably turns against the enemy.

"Ride, ride! Get out of here!" Enemies begin to break away from the battle, leaving first as individuals, then as large groups. "We can't win - run!" Their levied and hired men begin to depart from the field first, leaving the armed households of the magnates behind... but then, the Baron of Yonbry's standard withdraws, he and his retainers fleeing at a gallop as well. It isn't long before everyone is abandoning the fight at the first opportunity for escape. Others yield. The two men-at-arms on the ground that you confronted earlier no longer put up a fight.

The Baron of Scarwin, Lord Wernick, has been captured. The Baron of Yonbry has fled. The Baron of Myre, Lord Bomric Malcress, was killed in the battle alongside his son. On your side, Sir Gautham Aldwyn, Master Eshen, and Sir Thoran Volstaff were all killed - or mortally wounded, in the latter case. It is expected that Sir Thoran will die sometime tomorrow morning. Your household lost seven men, while the other members of the alliance lost eleven. The enemy have suffered at least eighty killed, and about seventy captured. The cavalry element of their army has effectively been destroyed. Not all of the wounded men and lost or injured mounts are yet accounted for.
​

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

​

"Victory! The Paragon has blessed us this day!" Robert cried out in both joy and anguish as he took off his helm. The battle had not lasted long, yet it felt like an eternity to him. Cheers arose from the men as the looting commenced. Robert turned to look at the cleaved head of his cousin. He slowly approached, dropped to his knees and muttered a prayer seeking both forgiveness and for the Paragon to guide Gautham. Robert's head looked up into the sky, seeking an answer to his prayers, yet like before he only found himself momentarily entranced by the clear, beautiful blue skies. It was almost as if the Paragon was unaware of the bloodshed that had been spilled that day. Robert jerked his head to Sir Cortyn, still prostrating himself on the ground where he had been struck and being watched over by his Uncle's man. Robert walked over and said "My good man, what is your name? My uncle will hear of your deeds this day. Sadly, I do not think that Sir... Lord Cortyn will live long enough to ransom him. Yet, he is a mighty man and you were the one who laid him low." A large blood, soaked in blood, lay in the grass near them. Robert bent over to pick up the great sword and said to no one in particular "I will keep you. To remind myself of this day, both the glory I have earned, and the failures I have wrought."

---

As the day wore on, Robert organized the men to make sure things stayed as orderly as reasonably possible. Much looting was taking place, but the fallen knights of the enemy were buried by the local temple while the commoners of the enemy fallen were buried in a mass grave at the site of the battle, all stripped of their belongings of course. Whatever shelter that remained in Bronsfield, Robert made sure that his wounded and the wounded of the enemy who were of notable status were taken care of or at least made comfortable, in particular Sir Thoran who would pass soon. Robert made plans to bring their dead back home where they could be buried according to their family's wishes. Robert set up camp in one of the few remaining buildings where he organized efforts to set up patrols and gather horses, supplies, prisoners and loot to begin the journey back east.

They would spend the night at Bronsfield to have sufficient time to loot, prepare to travel, get some deserved rest and then head east at dawn back to Wesgrath or Aldwyn. However, there was unfinished business in Bronsfield. He sent a messenger and several men to the Keep owned by Bentley Buckell to offer a deal. Without a doubt, the inhabitants had witnessed the battle. Thus, Robert offered its inhabitants safe passage out of Bronsfield to deliver the news of the battle to the Baron's family in Myre along with the news of the Baron's death, his severely injured son's capture and the capture of Baron Scarwin. However, they would have to surrender the keep peacefully and leave behind their belongings.

---

Robert wondered how prideful the Baron of Scarwin was. He had heard stories of certain proud lords boasting of their prestige and power that when asked to name their own price for ransom, they would inflate it heavily. Thus, Robert decided to invite the Baron to dine with him (hopefully in the great hall of Bronsfield's manor) and his knights to see if the Baron of Scarwin could be coaxed to name his own price for his release. If they could agree to some sort of ransom price and overall agreement, then Robert would release some of the lower status Scarwin prisoners to send word back home of the Baron's capture and the terms of his ransom.

---

Summary:

1. Robert works to keep the men orderly and organized in the ensuing looting and post battle activities to ensure that the men do not drop their guard. He orders that his wounded and any enemy wounded of status be brought to any remaining shelter in Bronsfield to allow them to rest and be more comfortable. He also orders the burial of the fallen enemy Knights by the local temple, and the fallen enemy commoners in a mass grave on the site of the battle. (Forcing the commoner prisoners to dig if need be.) Finally, he tries to compile a list of loot and prisoners obtained from this battle.

2. He offers the inhabitants of the Keep in Bronsfield the opportunity to peacefully surrender the keep and leave the settlement and head to Myre to send word of the battle, the death of the Baron of Myre, the capture of his severely injured son, and the capture of the Baron of Scarwin. A rather tempting offer since they saw their own relief force get destroyed in a quick, pitched battle.

3. Robert attempts to play up the Baron of Scarwin's ego by inviting him to dinner and attempts to get the Baron to name his own ransom price.

4. The men spend the night at Bronsfield to get some rest before setting out east to return to Aldwyn.

 

[Lorsh]

• Lordship of Sherfield
• Clan Geadisch
• Barony of Berngard

• 
  φ Lᴏʀᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴏғ Sʜᴇʀғɪᴇʟᴅ φ
  
  At the gallows in Sherfieldton, a small fight breaks out when friends of the man, led by his brother, attempt to intervene and stop the hanging. Watchmen from the town are able to subdue them with their flails, for the most part. The man's brother is arrested and put in the town gaols for his breach of the peace. Several townlings and country levies were injured when they fought each other with their fists, although one man was reported being stabbed in the arm. The condemned is set to dangle, and his body is splattered by rotten produce thrown by the jeering townfolk.
  
  
  
  Sometime during the ruckus of the hanging, a wanted outlaw known as Marson Kads killed two Sherfieldton watchmen, and subsequently fled. The local guards, as well as the knights serving as your justices of the peace in the surrounding areas have already started to hunt for him. Tonis talks with the mayor and reeve of Sherfield, and organises for some of the levies to form search parties as well. Due warning is given about Marson's swordsmanship, but he will definitely find himself outnumbered this time around.
  
  --
  
  Tonis gives you some prospects on what may be able to be requisitioned from Sherfieldton. You know well that your lands may be fertile, but they host little ore. Still, there are weapons and basic armour to be found within the town, though some may say they are of amateurish make, or fit only for brigands at the worst. Few men in the town know how to make proper maille armour, but they definitely give their best attempts at it. Otherwise, basic kit such as padded tunics and leather jerkins are readily available. There is also a second-hand weapons market, and several shield and buckler-makers. Spears and basic polearms are withdrawn from the recently-completed armoury in Sherfield, allowing you to spend your gold gained from the amercements on other gear.
  
  
  Meanwhile, at the council meeting, your close advisors enjoy some roasted goat and good drink in your castle's mead hall. Hearthmen clad in purple tabards over mail stand on guard with their fearsome swords and great axes, and you hear the birds chirping outside through the castle's embrasures.
  
  Jennos Enderl hums. "You may be seen as troublesome by your King if you begin prosecuting a feud, but such a thing is not unprecedented. Feuds between both the highborn families and old clans of Fyrdos are anything but rare, especially during a reign as fragmented as Grenn's."
  
  Tonis speaks up. "A private war that doesn't directly affect him may not warrant a response, considering that his forces are known to be limited... you are aware of at least a few chief lords who nominally owe fealty to Grenn, but quarrel - quite violently - with one another. A headache for your liege, nonetheless."
  
  Father Enderl goes on. "Some say that he plans to gain revenge against the vassals who have wrong him, Amias. Maybe we should be careful... but the longer we sit here, there is the creeping prospect of attack from that dastard, Mallick."
  
  An attack on another lord-chief may damage your chances of being awarded any of the Lanidor lands - at least Lord Torrek keeps all the trouble within his own domains, rather than exporting much of it. Torrek is a friend of Grenn's as well, though still, he is arguably a poorly-suited governor for that region.
  
  Lord Tobin eventually replies with a herald and a letter saying that the Barony of Thorpe will be observing the situation carefully, and reiterates his family's support as allies of your house.
  
  You do not receive a reply from Lord Lanidor at this time. One of his vassals, however, does offer a response; Lord Gareth refuses your forces any access to his domains, unless you provide a hundred-gold payment to him. He also offers the services of ten ordinary horsemen if you accept these terms.
  
  
  Granswold horseman
  
  One of your hearthmen appears, removing his flat-topped helmet and letting his long hair fall around his shoulders. "My Lord," he bows. "The hue and cry was raised, but our hunters weren't able to stop him. The rogue Marson evaded the outpost south of Granswold, and rode past the hamlets of both Fedley and Grant. We believe he is headed towards Jesworth," he mentions. Your advisors begin to look at each other."
  
  "It will be... a justified provocation, perhaps, if we continued to search for him in Mallick's lands," Tonis mentions.
  
  "But it may lead to a second, less-flattering provocation... drawing attention to that area may lead the High Lord to discover our illegal lumber mill in his forests," Jennos sighs.
  
  "Let him be provoked," mentions Sir Alvis Branson. "A fight is bound to occur, in either case! Let us get it over with. Sherfield men were killed by brigands - he must not be allowed to shelter them. Not only that, but one of your hearthmen has been attacked. Lord Morran," he mentions.
  
  
  
• 
  Ω Ꮯꮮꭺɴ Ꮐꭼꭺꭰꮖꮪꮯꮋ Ω
  
  Trelk fen Burmac, the new aeldorman of Blanwech, asks for some wine, weapons and gear to be sent from Fynbroke Castle to his newly-conquered village. He
  
  Concerning improvements that could be made to your keep, Dolaidh suggests enthralling more villagers from Blanwech and forcing them to begin quarrying in the hills for stone. "During the takeover, a few of the farms were burned and the crops taken, so the crofters will be needing new jobs. The curtain wall could use reinforcement in some parts, which we will need more stones for. The hoardings on the castle have begun to rot and are in need of being torn down and replaced. We may also want to deepen the ditch surrounding our castle and it's outlying structures."
  
  The thralls are later surveyed by Dolaidh and his slavedrivers. The Geadisch have several thousand people in bondage, including six hundred able bodies who can be pressed to fight for their masters... though only a couple hundred of these men have armaments of any note. The majority are rabble, armed with clubs, wooden spears, scythes, forks, axes, and knives. Others carry an old sword and nothing else. Most of the thralls are barefoot, though some have wrapping boots or leather sandals. They have no armour, wearing simple shawls and hooded cowls, threadbare tunics and ratty leather caps. Only a few of the spearmen have shields, and all of the selfbows of the archer thralls are quite diminutive compared to the ones used by your regular warriors - more likely to wound a man rather than kill him outright, surely. Your thrall master informs you that he will have a more detailed list of the thralls in the coming days. "Soon, Artair, soon!" As for bad actors, Dolaidh selects about a dozen or thralls he deems to be too old, weak, unlucky, or disobedient, and hands them over to the warriors for to wet their blades upon and fill with arrows. This puts the new count at approximately two thousand five-hundred thralls. Screams ring out from the forest as the unneeded bodies are dealt with. Some of the raiders drink draughts of blood from the slain thralls in order to give them vigor for the marauding in the days ahead, staining their beards red.
  
  One thrallwoman - a young thing with raven hair - who is about to be brought away to the training grounds, has several warriors intercede on her behalf, asking for her to be spared. You have heard Dolaidh complain about her many times before, being thieving and disobedient, and having far too much sway over her fellow thralls as well as the guards thanks to her nature as a temptress.
  
  
  
  As for the farms, husbandmen are able to provide the castle with enough meat, more or less every year. There is some to be left over for the clansmen and the best dogs as well. Onions, beets, leeks, spring oats, stoneground bread, eggs and cheese are readily available at Fynbroke. There have been some minor annoyances with weevils and fruit-catcher birds. Overall, at the moment there is nothing very pressing regarding agriculture that a lord ought to concern themselves with directly.
  
  Taog assists you in having several more warriors assessed. An additional twenty-three lancers are drummed up; the mounted lancers of the Geadisch carry long spears and round or almond shields, as well as axes and swords of iron, or pilfered Boldic steel. Many have stolen Fyrdian helmets, while others are of native make. Either way they are usually made out of iron, or have metal segmentation combined with hardened leather. Some lancers wear padded jerkins, rawhide coats, banded leather, or else simply their tunic and boots. Most of their legs are bare.
  
  Lancer, raiders, bowman
  
  As for the clanfolk skirmishers, most of them have javelins, although many also have slings in case their supply of sharp darts and throwing spears runs dry. What separates them from the thrall slingers is that most of the skirmishers tend to have a buckler and a small axe or long knife in addition to their missile weapons. Unlike the vast majority of thralls, the Geadisch skirmishers necessarily aren't precluded from wearing helmets, though they're usually very light.
  
  Discussion is had on the Hedgton militia. Murchag speaks on his experiences scouting and spying in that area, where he has often disguised himself as a serf or vagrant in order to better look around. The garrison and militia of that burgh probably numbers around two to three hundred men, with an unknown number of those soldiers perhaps dedicated elsewhere, as part of the royal levy. It's also possible that the townlings may also form additional, ad-hoc bands of rabble to oppose your forces, which may include up to several hundred more men. Undoubtedly, the town will possess more iron helmets, padded jerkins and shirts of mail than your own men.
  
  Ultimately, the discussion with Murchag develops into something more substantial than was discussed even with your closer advisors. Your chief huntsman goes into detail on the defences of Hedgeton. The most serious obstacle for your men in Hedgeton is the wall. The palisade surrounds the entire burgh, though there is a small suburb just outside the wall that could be burned relatively easily. Moreover, after the outside palisades are breached, there is still an inner bailey and keep seated atop a mighty mound that must be taken. There are archers, javelinmen, and rock-throwers to contend with in a siege. Your master of the hunt mentions that hooks, ropes, and scaling ladders should be relatively easy to make, as well as battering rams out of suitably strong tree trunks. Murchag continues to muse on the prospect of a siege, and says that Celean may be able to help Fynbroke's woodcrafters create mangonels, mantlets, and belfries to attack the walls. Though, they'd need to be able to bypass the giant ditch that surrounds most of the town.
  
  He argues with a few other warriors in the great hall, even after the war meeting is adjourned. Whatever the case may be, the guards on duty mostly say that they believe that attacking Hedgeton is too risky. It is definitely a step up from what your other advisors had suggested. Murchag defends his proposal, saying that the townlings may attempt a preemptive strike before the Geadisch raiding season begins in earnest. "What is to stop them from assembling their knights and trying to root us out? We have become too predictable... and now that the other nobles may not be able to save them, attacking us first is the only thing they can do!"
  
  
• 
  ⚜ Bᴀʀᴏɴʏ ᴏғ Bᴇʀɴɢᴀʀᴅ ⚜
  
  The man-at-arms looks around at the carnage with a wince... but at least it's over. "My name is Elroy," he says, bowing to the lord. "I am the... lovechild... of the Master of Haldrup, Sir Mortus Ranglen. I fought with my father and younger half-brothers here, today," he explains. Looking at the prostrated Sir Cortyn, he frowns. "My apologies, sir - my lord - I meant not to strike so hard." It seems he has killed him, more or less; Cortyn has simply yet to expire. "I don't think a physician can fix that." Clearly, he wishes that the Baron's son could have been captured. Either way... Sir Gautham has been avenged.
  
  
  Elroy, Aldwyn man-at-arms
  
  Several of your knights risk sauntering up to the gates of the keep of House Buckley to deliver your demands. As they approach in a tight form of glistening plates and quicktrotting horses, the posted sentries make no move to resist, though one is sent to inform his lord of their approach. After your knights informed the sentries who remained of your requests for surrender, they hastily returned to the main body, and managed this safely.
  
  Some time passes. After an hour, Lord Robert asks for your permission to prepare an assault. Whether or not you give it, one is prepared by men eager to break in -- rams are brought to bear, and ladders thrown up. Your crossbowmen force the sentries to retire via a salvo of bolts. However, as your soldiers grow more and more eager to be done with this bastion of resistance, the last of the defenders of Bronsfield emerge, as if having waited for the last second -- there are only eight of them. Lord Bentley Buckell, his wife Lady Ianna, two men-at-arms and four valots, all wearing the particolours of House Buckell. Your soldiers promptly take them into custody.
  
  
  Buckell manor
  
  The battlefield outside Bronsfield has received some attention from the locals, of which several have gone out to loot, and also bury some of the fallen. Presumably, loved ones are searching for their fathers, sons, and brothers. Shoes, mail, helmets and weapons have all been stripped off of the dead, as well as anything else of any value. You see one sergeant smashing a corpse's silver teeth out of his head.
  
  Though your mortalities were few, your alliance suffering only a fourth of the number killed on the rogues' side, several of your men have received superficial wounds. One man was bashed repeatedly with a shield, his nose is terribly shattered, jaw smashed, and he may lose his right eye - but, this is the worst of the injuries. Another man lost a digit on his pointer finger, another was slashed across his back and shoulders; others received similar non-life threatening wounds.
  
  The feast in Bronsfield is a success - your noble captives lunge at the oppurtunity to appeal to you for their freedom. It is not a particularly spectacular feast - the great hall had been sacked in the excitement and had to be hastily made presentable. Several knights of the Myre, Yonbry as well as Scarwin attend as your prisoners, and they all commend you on your victory, assuring you of your right to hold them but urging you to release them as soon as possible. Some arrangements are made for messengers to be sent out to contact families for ransoms.
  
  Lords Buckley and Wernwick also attend. Wernwick offers you a smaller sum of six-hundred crowns for his ransom, excusing himself by saying most of his property had been destroyed during the war. However, he offers to legally cede the village of Judsham to the son of late Master Eshen, and the village of Wegford to Mardas. Though you could easily go and conquer these places, Wernwick's surrendering of the fiefs to you would make the transition a lot smoother. Buckell offers you two-hundred gold for his release, and even offers to take your side from now on in this war.
  
  News of the battle has spread, and all sorts of folk begin to arrive in town from the road leading from Ramscrest. Peddlers, scavengers, whores and the like. However, amongst this scourge of sinners are some women and children, dressed in black for their fallen, come to mourn. Once again, the sea of dead that was the battlefield is alive with activity. It isn't long before the mass grave is finally covered in earth.
  
  The next day, your scouts return with a report about the rebel foot, which were on their way to Wesgrath. Things aren't going well. Most of their officers were killed, captured, or simply disbanded in the clash here at Bronsfield, and thus, they're dealing with mass desertion. So much so, that Lord Yonbry IV has withdrew his levies, presumably from the conflict itself, and begun to march home. It is up in the air whether a confrontation with your uncle's forces in Wesgrath is even possible at this point, but presumably he continues to gather strength.
  
  

​

 

[Lord Bradorian]

News came early one morning of the result of the encounter at Bronsfield. By some stroke of genius deception, the army of Cherbourg outmanuevered and decimated the rebel army, resulting in the deaths of nearly a hundred of their cavalry, the killing of the Baron of the Myre and his son, and the capture of the Baron of Scarwin. In the aftermath, the Baron of Yonbry, Yonbry IV, has withdrew his forces from the rebel army heading to Wesgrath. Now the title of the Baron of the Myre is up in the air, and Amias' ally Grannos in Midburgh is known to hold a strong claim to the region - however, a Fyrd claiming lands of Carmondy could prove problematic.

Amias would counter-offer Lord Gareth with an offer of three-hundred and twenty gold for access to his lands and either service of fifteen mounted sergeants and men-at-arms (total, not of each,) or the service of the ten horsemen in addition to the rights to levy thirty additional footmen for service from each hamlet - should this be agreed upon, the masters of the hamlets would be offered fifty gold each, assuming they were knights, to serve with Amias against Mallick, along with their squires and whatever retainers they possessed, assuming Grann would allow them to enter this service and appoint stewards to their holdings. Raising the hamlets' levies or bringing on an additional fifteen armored horsemen would allow Amias to utilize his purchased access without much use of his own troops, avoiding spreading Morran's garrison too thin over their sentry, patrol, and sending out unmarked guards to the lumber yard. If this offer was rejected, however, Amias would fall back on the previous offer of one-hundred gold payment for military access in the aforementioned hamlets, as well as the enlistment of the ten offered horsemen. With his newfound discretion in moving troops through Lord Grann's lands, Amias would call for squads of at least a dozen cavalry to visit both hamlets daily, to ensure Mallick's men were not skulking around; should they be found, they would be informed that the hamlet was under House Enguerrand's protection, and they will be required to leave, or be made to do so. Efforts would also be made to entice volunteers to come and enlist at Holmfirth.

Amias and his council discussed many matters of importance while imbibing at the mead hall within Sherfield Keep. Of utmost, was deciding what to do about Marson Kads. A lowlife bandit, whom had recently been captured after leading a small band of fellows on a string of highway robberies between Sherfieldton and Forrosyth, not only damaging the merchants' margins, but also straining relations, as it was more often than not peddlers coming from Forrosyth to town which had been struck - Amias' townlings had little business in the small northern village that said villagers wouldn't be willing to bring to them, being the largest center of commerce in the region -- Sheriff Graffoth had shifted his town's economy to facilitate it's long-winded war against the Geadisch, and thus, paled in comparison to the hustle and bustle at Sherfieldton. This Kads had taken advantage of the unrest in town to seize an oppurtunity to escape, murdering two watchmen in the process -- having evaded Branson's post facing Granswold, and being seen riding between Grant and Fedley, it is clear that the outlaw is making a break for Mallick's lands, where the masters won't likely be eager to hand him over. "We cannot allow Kads to find safe harbor in Mallick's lands. He has proven himself to be quite capable of rousing rabble, evident by his role as ringleader in crimes against our merchants on the road north. At Jesworth, there will be no shortage of rabble to join him in repeated offenses -- they may even grow so bold as to raid Fedley or Grant, both of which I have placed under my protection now that I have made treatise with the lordling Gareth. Charibert, ride out with all of my knights save for Branson and Glens, my sons, and whatever number of other riders you see fit, and deliver Kads to me - in one piece, or several, it does not matter. Precede your arrival at the hamlet with a courier carrying a letter written by my eldest, informing the master there of your coming and ordering the arrest of Kads. Your party should follow the courier closely, so as to not give the Master of Jesworth time to organize defenses or call on reinforcements. If Kads is not brought out to you when you arrive, you may enter and search for him - should you encounter organized resistance...put them all to the sword and their homes to the torch."

As conflict approached, Amias sought some material aid from several potential benefactors. Requests for arms, crowns, volunteers, or other supplies for the effort are sent out to the Baron of Flamebay, the castellan at Crown Coppe, Kuldren, as well as the lords of Richwick and Uponhall.

On account of the situation by Jesworth, the lumber yard in the nearby forest is ordered to pack up, pulling up stakes and hastily trying to remove evidence of their being there, besides felled trees.

Having been able to further assess the situation by Hedgeton, Amias reconsiders his purchase near the town. He had decided to do nothing with it due to the advice of his steward - the operation may be bust if an enemy were to march on it. The likeliest foes would be the Geads, the Lord of Secchons, or somehow Lanidor or one of his vassals, if they were to turn against him. Amias doubted Graffoth himself would have any reason to torch the business, and further doubted rebel forces would see his place as a valuable target at the outset of the war - even more so if the men of Coedensoke are amongst the dissenters. And so, Amias would call back his evaluators and his steward, and order that the mining operations go ahead, providing all neccesary funds.

On some quiet night, Amias would find his eldest son and pull him aside for a private conversation. "Sir Amias, my beloved son. You have grown to be an elegant gentleman, a talented swordsman and wise tactician. However, you lack in knowledge of state and diplomacy, and you must shore up these weaknesses of yours. For Amias, my love, I believe some day soon you will rule this House. I am old...my time was many years ago, and my deal with the old sorcerers is ending soon," Amias joked with a smirk. "You are young, brave, chivalrous, and powerful. You will lead this House to greatness. In the coming years, the land will be in chaos, at total war - and ripe with oppurtunity. Take it. Make House Enguerrand the great lordship it once was. Bring Cerham and Lanidor to heel, and count yourself a high lord, and amongst the great lords of Fyrdia. Perhaps you will one day hold a claim to the throne, as you deserve. It is you, my son, that will lead us to glory."
​

 

[MrThe]

At Cwywallen a feast is being held. "Before we begin the feast in earnest there is some business to be taken care of. First we have new brothers in arms to welcome into our fellowship. Come forth ye newmade Knights of Flamebay and accept these tokens to become my oathbound ringmen." All of his recently acquired vassals come up one by one in order of rank and pay homage to their new lord, kissing his ring and in turn accepting a ring bestowed on them. "Work hard and be rewarded for your faithful service my brave and glorious knights. Now speaking of rewards, it is time to bestow favors upon those servants who have earned much for their deeds." Phillippe began calling out to each of the vassals he wants to reward. Giving particular attention to those who performed well in battle. He gifts grants of land and cattle to those men of arms who are yet landless and gifts of coin to his higher retainers. He replaces the horses of any who lost theirs in the fighting and awards the remaining number to his best riders.

After that is done, Phillippe retires to the high table so he can converse with all of his advisors about the future, in particular all of the fighting happening to his south. "Lord Horall, Sir issan, as always you speak with great wisdom. Sir Lorran, I am disappointed in you, such land hungry belligerence against our neighbors is not why we fought here but to avenge a longstanding grudge against my house, the lands we gained were merely a significant bonus. Just cause is essential when exercising our noble prerogatives. I would like to give my support to Lord Berngard quickly but the men need time to reorganize. Once the peasants are fully levied we shall lay siege to Geldred then Scarwin Keep. Bring forth Lord Scarwin's messenger." The recently wine refreshed man was brought to his presence and at last the long awaited reply to Scarwin's plea for aid was given. "Tell this to your master. He must think me to be like him, giving battle to my neighbor out of greed and self interest. This is not so, war must be waged for higher causes. The Skerrymen were put to the sword for vengeance and their many slights against my House stretching from ancient times. You and your allies on the other hand are honorless dogs unhappy with the ancestral fiefs granted you by Paragon Emmortal. Your lands are being devastated because such ingratitude and ill governance has turned God against you. My victory on the other hand is further proof that I have gained his blessing by ridding the mainland of unfit rule."

 

[SoRonery]

The arrival of any lord that wasn't his own was always a troublesome event. Feasts had to be planned, lodgings made ready and room made in the stables for the guests horses. All at the expense of the hosts of course. That of course was why the Castle of Kragwyn was abuzz wit activity. Guest rooms being cleaned out, kitchens operating at full capacity. Like a bee hive that had been kicked Albert thought as he walked into his private chamber after talking to his lords. They to had there own concerns with this particular visit.

King Tharon was on his way. His train had already passed through Killldareen. He had approved orders to begin sending for hay from the villages. If he was lucky the king would only stay for a week. He prayed that he was lucky.

The High Lord of Kragwyn’s chamber was a simple affair, furniture was plan but well made. Simple and sturdy, traits that the MacEanruig clan had become known for. The bed was a tall four post construct. The curtains were drawn back currently, on the side of the bed facing away from him was a richly decorated screen, an object that would have seemed normal in any other lords chamber but looked so alien in his.

His wife, who he could here fretting with her ladies, had insisted on there being some color in this room other then plain oak and gray stone. He had hoped that she would be done, but alas, that hope had been dashed.

“Oh, Albert, I didn’t hear you walk in,” Elisabeth said peeking here head over the modesty screen, her golden hair flowed over her shoulders in curling rivulets, and even after living in Frydos for so long her voice still held that Carmon inflection, “The children are ready if your wondering.”

“Very good,” he replied almost absent mindedly as he sat down on the bed and placed his hands in his hands. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“You worry to much my husband,” she whispered in his ear.

He sighed, “Your right, but I suppose that my lot in life. To worry.”

She kissed his cheek, “Just remember you dont shoulder your burdens alone.”
Lined DividerThe king eventually arrived with much pomp and circumstance in they Frydosian fashion. The standard greeting were shared, formalities exchanged. Of course feasting would follow the kings arrival but eventually that would wind down and the two men would find themselves in a position to talk without the preying eyes of the castle watching them.

Albert listened to his liege lord and he thought as he sipped his mulled wine, “The MacEanruig’s will always stand for the freedom of our people. To throw off the southern tyranny we would gladly raise our banner.”

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

​

At the feast, Robert took great care to meet and speak with the various lords and knights. They offered their platitudes and requested to be released as quickly as possible. However, Robert knew that the longer he kept them... the more desperate that they would become. Still, he maintained a cordial environment as he welcomed them to the feast. More importantly, the Baron of Scarwin and the Lord of Bronsfield gave their offers for their release. The Baron's offer, in Robert's estimations, was lacking. The Baron of Swanton surrendered all his men and his caput to just keep his second son alive. Robert suspected that the longer the Baron was kept in captivity, the more pliant he would become. Lord Buckell offered 200 crowns and to pay homage to Robert, which was a tempting offer. However, Robert found it difficult to trust a vassal who was so easily willing to surrender. Perhaps, even the Lord Buckell would become more pliant given more time under custody.

However, when it came to the men of lower status, Robert felt somewhat generous. Rather than put them to the sword, Robert knew that the widespread destruction in the region would lead to food insecurity and drive up the prices of food in the markets. His own fields needed tending to as well. Thus, Robert would give them a chance to avoid death by offering them a chance to become villeins or indentured servants to Robert.

---

Spoiler: Letter to Lady Malcress

To the Lady Regent Malcress,

It is with a heavy heart that I must tell you that both your husband and son have fallen in battle. Although we may have faced each other on the field of battle that day, my cause was to come to the aid of family whose ties I value the most. It is only family that one can rely on in troubling times as these, and while I do question Lord Malcress' intentions in starting this conflict, I also believe the common peace and prosperity of all Bolds and my peers. Yet, I fear that conflict will further grow in this region as pretenders rise to claim your late husband's titles, be they your brother in laws or nephews.

Thus, to bring the Paragon's peace upon us and to correct what has been wronged, I propose to you a treaty. Release and return Swanton Keep, Haldrup, and the Baron Swanton. Legally cede Ramscrest, Bronsfield and the hamlets andthat lie east of Ramscrest as reparations for this feud. In exchange, I propose the betrothal of my brother Louis till he come of age in a year to your daughter, Jacelyn and a pledge to support you in your attempts to stop any familial pretenders from forcefully taking the Barony of Myre in favor of your chosen heir to the barony. I ask that as a dowry that you present the hamlets of Aldheed and Masserly to Louis so that any children born of this union will have the means to provide for themselves while I pledge 300 crowns as dower to Jacelyn. Many vultures circle the Barony, seeking to tear it apart, but through this treaty and the union of our families we may yet preserve the Barony of Myre and help bring some peace to the region in these uncertain times.

If you accept or wish to further discuss peace terms, then let us meet in the fields west of Bronsfield where we may meet and finalize any treaty.

Baron Robert de Cherbourg II

---

Spoiler: Letter to Lord Mardas

To Lord Mardas,

I bring both great and terrible news. We have met the enemy on the fields of Bronsfield and they are ours. Lord Bomric Malcress was slain in battle. His heir, Sir Cortyn Malcress, succumbed to his injures inflicted by Elroy of Haldrup. The Barony of Myre faces a succession crisis with the eldest daughter, now married to a Frydian Lord, likely facing threats from other male pretenders to the Barony who seek to press their claims and those who chaff at the idea of being ruled by a Frydian. One of my knights also has captured Baron Scarthon of Scarwin in battle while the Baron Yonbry has withdrawn and returned to his lands.

However, this victory came at the cost of Gautham's life who was felled by Sir Cortyn. May the Paragon guide him and may he be sated with the vengeance we wrought. However, this victory presents an opportunity for us to end the feud on terms favorable to us. The Baron Scarthon proposed to cede Wegford to you and Judsham to Master Eshen's, who also fell in battle, heir along with a paltry sum of crowns for his freedom. He has even offered to cede Oading and the neighboring hamlets in exchange for Bronsfield whose Lord has surrendered to me. However, I believe that the longer he remains a guest, the more amendable he will be to more agreeable terms. In addition, I believe that the Lady Regent Malcress will seek to end this war and do whatever she can to prevent the coming succession crisis. I intend to propose a marriage between Louis and the younger Malcress daughter in exchange for the lands of Bronsfield and all land east of it to secure peace.

However, the fruit must be ripe before we pick it. Uncle, I ask that you meet what remains of the Bandit Lords army, who I hear suffers from desertion due to their lords and lieges now either fleeing, residing in my custody, or laying dead on the field of Bronsfield. Run them to the ground and scatter them so that we may freely siege Swanton Keep. The garrison at Greffold, Redyal and Harjaw should now be able to join your host without fear of siege. In addition, I ask that you send some of the men west to liberate Haldrup, take Laughlen and to join me in anticipation of a siege of Ramscrest. In the mean time, I will continue to harass the enemy and attempt to seize the nearby hamlets to put additional pressure on the Lady Regent while Baron Scarthon has more time to think about his position.

Baron Robert de Cherbourg II

Robert summoned his vassals and allies to a war council in the Bronsfield manor. "My Lords and Sires, with our great victory upon these fields, the time has come for the ripening of the fruit. The Barony of Myre is in chaos with the death of the Baron and his heir. The main enemy host suffers from mass desertion as Lord Yonbry withdraws his men. The Baron of Scarwin remains under our custody. Sir Royck, I will task you and your men with delivering this letter to my Uncle, Lord Mardas in Wesgrath. Afterwards, you will ride south to Royton to inquire about and hire mercenaries to assist us in potential sieges. Two of my men at arms will join you and your men in this endeavor to assist you.

The rest of us will focus on consolidating our gains in the region. We will ride out to demand the surrender of Aldheed, Masserly and Ramscrest with the colors of the Barons of Myre and Scarwin to show them that there is no relief army to speak of as it was already destroyed in battle. If they refuse, then we will raid and siege them. If Ramscrest does not surrender, then perhaps we can pay some of the merchants and looters who came from there for information or even open the gates for us from inside to avoid a long siege. Regardless, it is time to finish our duty and see this conflict to its end."

---

1. Robert offers prisoners who are unable to gather a ransom (the valots/other lower status men) the opportunity to live if they enter into a contract to become villeins on Roberts various estates or indentured servants.

2. Send messengers led by Sir Royck to Wesgrath to inform Baron Mardas of the victory at Bronsfield and the disintegrating enemy army. Robert requests that Lord Mardas quickly marches to smash what remains of the enemy army and march upon Swanton Keep to liberate it and any captives there. Robert also requests that Mardas send a portion of the army to aid Robert in a potential siege of Ramscrest. After delivering the message, Sir Royck and his retinue are to head to Royton to inquire about and potentially hire mercenaries from the town.

3. Send mounted parties to the neighboring settlements (Aldheed, Masserly and Ramscrest) to demand their surrender or be raided in the case of the nearby large hamlets or siege and sack in the case of Ramscrest. They are to wave the captured colors of the Baron of Scarwin AND the Baron of Myre to emphasize that there will be no relief army to end a siege or stop a raid for the relief army has already been defeated and routed. If Ramcrest does not surrender, then Robert will attempt to see if any of the residents could be bribed for information or to turn coat and provide them with entry to the castle. However, if they do surrender, then the garrison will be permitted to leave the castle without being captured or harmed as an incentive.

4. Send messengers to Lady Regent Malcress to propose a peace agreement. Robert demands the return of Swanton Keep and Haldrup and release of the Baron of Swanton. Robert also demands the formal ceding of Bronsfield, Ramscrest and the nearby hamlets to Robert. In exchange, Robert proposes the betrothal of Louis and Jacelyn to ensure peace among all the involved factions (Asking for two hamlets as a dowry and offering 300 crowns as dower). In addition, due to the familial ties between the two families, Robert promises to support the Lady Regent's choice of heir against any other familiar pretenders to the Barony of Myre in an attempt to deter any potential succession crisis.

 

[Myxyzptlk]

The Cry of Ambition


The Lord of Fynbroke deliberated among his trusted peers on the most present issues of Clan Geadisch. The Geadisch chief responsibly dragged out each member of his inner circle and had them delegate in the great hall. They had gathered around a table; not one person present sat down and each presiding member of the circle spoke openly and freely. Oftentimes speaking at the same time; this was the usual manner in which presiding issues were discussed within Fynbroke Castle. These meetings were consistent in argumentation and haughty debate. The established rules allowed for each member to speak freely without consequence so long as no member insulted the chief or another member. Should a member of the inner circle disrespect another during the meeting they were subject to pay the insulted a small parcel or offer a thrall as recompense. No such instance would take place at this meeting however, and the members of the table were veterans who understood the tradition very well

The first issues were brought forth to Artair fen Bridei; the newly annexed Blanwich needed a seed of supplies in order to ease the settlement process. The discussion regarding the matter was rather brief. Each council member unanimously agreed to spare the wine, gear, and equipment with haste. The order was to be carried out by some of the presiding veteran raiders with a supply line comprising of fifty hefty thralls fit for the manual labor. It was etched into writing and all but solemnly acknowledged before the circle began discussion of another matter.

The first prominent issue concerned battlements and fortifications. There was not much argument among the council regarding this either, and Artair's inclination toward engineering seemed to aid in his thought process of how to best proceed about the reconstruction of the hoardings. Artair proposed using the displaced crofters to help manage the stone fortifications under the careful guidance of an engineering-minded resident within Fynbroke, and if not possible, than outsourced from one of the other keeps. The council agreed to levying another fifty thralls in order to mine the quarries on the hills for the fortifications of Fynbroke Castle. Artair also made mention of adding slits to the hoardings and along the curtain walls for the archers to take care of invaders who may try to seek refuge underneath the canopy of the castle walls.

Thirdly, came to the circumstances regarding the thralls. There was consideration towards arming the thralls with leather armor and rudimentary arms. They would be necessary in skirmishes and future raids. However, Artair held off on making any direct decisions until the full list of details returned from Dolaidh's hands. The general innovations in his mens armaments was something that would need to be considered. For this reason, Artair ordered a full count of the treasury so that he would be able to budget appropriately. The matter regarding the disobedient and elderly thralls took care of itself. With Dolaidh providing the tunic bearing force of thralls to be used as martial practice for the Geadisch barbarians. An unusual issue regarding a lone thrall came to being as a woman among the thralls ranks created a ruckus among the thralls and his own soldiers.

"Bring this temptress to me. Find out what she desires, I may have use for her yet."

There was something considerable in the sway of this supposed temptress if it brought Dolaidh so much disdain and had his own soldiers in a bind. Whether her craft was occult or seduction it was a potential talent that Artair had no quarrels with fully exploiting. Perhaps with expansion and the acquisition of more thralls it was likely that the need for overseers in the other keeps would be required. By chance alone Artair could possibly utilize the temptress in one capacity or another. The situation would likely bring something peculiar along with it but it was a problem which would be addressed once presented in front of him.

The final and most pressing issue surrounded Hedgton. The town had been an eyesore for the Geadisch for quite some time now but the encounters with the town have been short of kidnapping their merchants and small scouting parties to assess the scale of their forces. The task seemed daunting but it was possible in Artair's mind. The siege could quickly devolve into attempting to starve the royal garrison out but the swifter the takeover the better. There was an element of fear aiding the Geadisch but the more time allowed to Hedgton to reinforce the worse.

"I side with Murchag. If we are to be more than bandits than we must make our prowess known. Hedgton shall fall and we will be ample prepared to succeed in a siege."

Smaller numbers, heavy fortifications, and poorer armaments currently worked against them however these were issues Artair could remedy. Better equipment would need to be set aside for the raiding force and the proper siege weaponry would also need to be constructed. The large ditch proved an obstacle but it was no mighty motte guarding a city, they could construct long ladders and carve out planks long and wide enough for soldiers to cross over. The engineers would certainly be busy this time of year but with the excess abundance of free labor that Fynbroke had come across it certainly would be no lack of hands trying.

"We will set aside enough coin from the treasury to strengthen our arms. We will keep expenses down by using any furs and leathers from our herds and game for leather armor. Gather some thralls and send a skirmishing force to test the defenses of Hedgton. Let the soldiers remark upon the success and where our best chances lie. Bring Cealean the Blacksmith and let him know of our plans, he will need to construct functional designs for the siege to come."

The elements of surprise, barbarity, and fear could be external factors not being taken into consideration. Certainly surrounding villages and castles prayed that the Geadisch stayed their hand and kept themselves to petty banditry until some angel from the skies delivered some cruel justice. Artair however knew better and understood the value of preying upon superstitions surrounding his clan name. It had manifested itself in the sheer amount of thralls he had come into possession of and he believed it would soon rear its head for the better in an expansion from the forests to which his clan had clung to for the longest time. Fyrdos was in a state of disarray, and in a time of such vulnerability spelled opportunity.
​

---

• Spare wine, gear, and equipment for Aeldorman Trelk in Blanwich and leave a portion of the fifty thralls from the supply line for his usage
• Utilize the displaced crofters to help reconstruct the curtain wall and hoardings. Etch out slits for archers along the curtain wall and hoardings
• Send out fifty thralls to mine the quarries on the hills
• Find out what the raven-haired thrall desires.
• Meet with Cealean the Blacksmith to discuss siege equipment for a raid on Hedgton
• Get the total coin count of the Fynbroke treasury. Prepare to set it aside for armament upgrades among the troops.
• Prepare a small skirmishing force of thralls to test the defenses of Hedgton

 

[Lorsh]

• Lordship of Sherfield
• BARONY OF FLAMEBAY
• High Lordship of Kragwyn
• Barony of Berngard
• CLAN GEADISCH
• Retroactive : Clan MacEanruig

• 
  φ Lᴏʀᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴏғ Sʜᴇʀғɪᴇʟᴅ φ
  
  
  Lord Gareth Grann
  
  Lord Gareth accepts only his initial offer, and rebuffs any notion that you pay money to his vassals or enlist their help without his permission - he mentions that it would be a slight against him. Ten lightly-equipped horsemen enter into your service, one carrying the standard of Granswold on his lance. The men each have a flattopped kite shield, a leather jerkin or padded jack, and either a solid iron skullcap or segmented cone helmet.
  
  The time comes for the lumber yard to go, and the necessary despatches are made to the camp reeve for takedown and disbandment to begin. And so the adulterine logging operation near Jesworth is quickly dismantled, with the workmen doing their best to cover their tracks. In the interest of saving precious time, the stumps of the felled trees are left where they are, along with the odd piece of scrap wood that wasn't gathered. Anyone could have done the deed, of course.
  
  Your knights return from Jesworth, having gained entry to the hamlet. After conducting a search of several hovels, barns, and root cellars, Marson Kads was not found. However, some of your knights seized a man and a woman that were deemed suspicious, and tortured them until they revealed Marson's location. Apparently, while the couple were taking their produce to sell at the market in Darndon, they witnessed a party of strange men being allowed into Sod Tower, one of Mallick's roadside outpost just outside his caput of Cerham.
  
  
  
  Several other knights accuse the citizens of Jesworth of poisoning their horses by providing fodder laced with hemlock. Either with or without Charibert's sanctioning, this leads to at least a dozen people being hacked to death by your knights in retaliation, and many homes are then razed to the ground. Charibert's party also stole ten horses from the village, three good for riding and seven sumpters. Two war horses from Sherfield - strong stallions, both - took ill and died several hours after returning from Jesworth, leaving their riders furious. One man remarks that he wishes he could go to Jesworth and finish off the 'rats' that remain there, while another, Branson, suggests an immediate assault on Sod Tower in order to separate Cerham Castle from the town of Darndon. "We have surely provoked them, now. Strike while the iron is hot!" Sir Alvis urges. Meanwhile, Sir Trempe of Couryonne chastises the men of Charibert's party. "If such cruelties were not visited upon the poor people of that settlement, there would have been no escalation. Whose to say that the farmers were telling the truth after such torment?" Clearly, he seems unnerved. You know that as master of the hamlet closest to Jesworth, Sir Trempe has had business there before, but some of the other knights dismiss his objections to the treatment of the people. His most vocal opponents are those knights whose steeds are now dead.
  
  
  
  Sir Tonis, one of the few knights not present at the massacre, scolds the others at the council meeting, but later tells you that they should be treated leniently. "We have raised the whole of our levy. The lads thought we were at war, especially after Telemar was attacked at Freyk. We can't punish the men, however unjust they were, right before we may have to commit to multiple sieges. Still... Charibert did not command the men as well as one may have hoped. He is a fine leader of common soldiers and more regular men-at-arms, but the knights have the habit of seeing each other as all peers when their liege himself is not around. Still, this raises the effectiveness of his captaincy. I understand he is a great fighter, but..."
  
  When recess is over, the talk in the great hall shifts to the bigger picture.
  
  You were speaking to your vassals. "Though the arrest of Kads was paramount to prevent him from recruiting a raiding party of the less fortunate in Mallick's lands, such is no longer a concern. We have given them plenty enough excuse to attack us with or without Kads' rabble rousing. As such, I see little importance in capturing him now, besides of course serving him justice and avenging the fallen guardsmen. Tell me, Alvis, how exactly will a strike at Sod Tower cut off Mallick's town from his keep? Could his men not just march around our blockade, or is the terrain prohibitive?"
  
  Sir Alvis Branson takes a moment to have a bite of cabbage, turnip and berry pottage, wiping his beard with a piece of table linen. "M'lord," he begins, after finally having a sip of wine to wash it all down. "-we need to have that outpost removed, or it will prove a great menace to us if we besiege either Cerham's castle or the town of Darndon." You know that Sod Tower rests upon a mound fifty feet high, and is surrounded by a spiked ditch filled with mud and cess. Protected by this ditch as well as a palisade wall, a small bailey rests at the bottom of the mound, containing the stables, a few shops, and the residences of the servants. The keep atop the mound itself is said to be made of logs banded with iron.
  
  Sir Alvis says, "the outpost rests squarely between the road leading from Cerham castle to Darndon-town."
  
  "And the rest of you? Charibert, Trempe, Tonis? I am highly cautious of attacking, and attempting to occupy and defend a fort in the middle of Mallick's lands. However, if this move may so cripple his ability to mobilize his levies as Alvis suggests, it is of no doubt the correct one. So, speak plainly. What do you all think?" Amias asked, wanting to gauge the opinions of all of his most important knights on Branson's bold attack plan.
  
  "This position could be vulnerable to a counterattack by the militiamen in Darndon," Sir Trempe mentions.
  
  "Oh - we'd be able to defend it, with enough men," Sir Alvis says. He is heartened by your approval of his suggestion, but Sir Tonis interjects.
  
  "Both Cerham castle and Darndon town are places that could mobilise horse against us. We should not assume we will be free to pillage all of their lands simply because we've taken their wooden robber-tower."
  
  Amias shakes his head at Alvis as his advisors mostly discourage the idea. "It is a bold move, Sir Alvis, and the idea has merit. If I had more men at my disposal, I would undoubtedly heed your advice. However, such is not the case - until our allies' banners fly alongside our own, we cannot spare manpower for such an endeavor. We will capture Kads, but perhaps later rather than sooner. Now, I believe that with the raid at Jesworth, we should assume a state of war exists between our House, and House Cerham. Full mobilization of the levy should begin immediately, and the armouries emptied to better arm the poorer fighters. What forces have already been raised must be made to march to Holmfirth, at the double-quick; further, I will send calls to arms to Midburgh, Thorpe, and Lanidor. We must decide whether to go onto the offensive, or remain on the defensive - Lord Morran has heavily fortified his fief in preperation for it's defense, and luring Cerham into battle there would give us every advantage, however, allowing him to make the first move will allow him ample time to gather forces from across his Lordship, but also provide US time to bring our allies into the conflict. Offensively, the Lordship of Shepbrook is the most pressing target - Sir Glens posesses a claim, it is close by and accessible by road as well as river, and is notably Cerham's only major waterfront. Taking it would wholly disable whatever amount of trade or travel his subjects participate in on the Northlands, and also secure the nearby crossing, allowing the forces of the Barony of Thorpe to easily cross into Mallick's domain. So. To attack, or to defend?"
  
  "We must attack!" urges Sir Halmar, a household knight of Lord Morran Telemar. "My master and I's domains should not be the shield upon which the High Lord Mallick focuses his wrath. Lay waste to the hamlets of Urkyth and Buldnor, and begin making weapons of siege..."
  
  Sir Filibert Glens nods. "We must convince Lord Moyes to open another front to the north - if only he could tie up Lord Maygne, of Ruthold..."
  
  Sir Tonis seems less convinced. "Our allies are... of dubious reliability. Even if he did launch this offensive, then he would make easier a siege of Cerham Castle, which is what we ought not to do - if we consolidate in Holmfirth, and begin a blockade of the town by the river, we will be able to stifle his supply lanes, if we also take care to raid the caravans on land."
  
  Sir Rullen shakes his head. "The route from Darndon to Cerham for resupply by land is heavily defended. Our men will have no avenue to attack, without being at risk from the foe's horses."
  
  Sir Tonis continues to raise concerns. "We can't afford to spread ourselves too thin, either - Mallick's lands are a large target to attack, but we could be wiped out one by one if he organises reprisals against our scattered raiding parties. Sod Tower will tie up too many of our men, let them rot up there. At most, we should try to torch the bailey where the stables are located." The other knights begin to show a positive reception to the idea of not climbing a fifty foot hill.
  
  "Regardless of whether Lord Moyes were to attack Lord Maygne, we must defend against incursions into Lanidor lands, and unless Moyes has been similarly fortified as Holmfirth, it is better that we be on the offensive there. Have any of you heard of fortifications' being build by Tarren?"
  
  "We haven't been in those lands," a junior knight mentions, whose name escapes you. "Nor have we been informed of anything, but doubtless they are?" The meeting goes on, and on...
• 
  ❁ Bᴀʀᴏɴʏ ᴏғ Fʟᴀᴍᴇʙᴀʏ ❁
  
  Sir Lorran looks down into his goblet and swishes it around, before having a small sip.
  
  The emissary of Scarwin is taken aback. "It was by the divine rule of kings my lord inherited the titles and claims bestowed unto him and his heirs through royal enfeoffment, not the touch of Paragon Emmortal's hand your cox-comb brow pretends," he sneers. It is then that he says that he will take his leave of the feast.
  
  However the envoy may have been dealt with, Sir Issan raises the next question - this time it concerns the levy. "We've raised nearly a millenary of men, and about a quarter as many of that in horses. With our foes in the peninsula come over to our side or destroyed, what will our common soldiers be set to accomplish? It will be expensive to keep this many men in arms, but I am sure you have something in mind, my lord," he says.
  
  "We should take Midburgh," says Sir Dorrian of Pressyx. "If we take that own and then entrench ourselves in those mountains, nobody shall be able to remove us."
  
  Sir Benfred Ryker shakes his head. "The town walls are one thing, but the citadel of Lord Grannos is impregnable," he says. "And what of the turmoil on the homefront? We should seize the robber castle of Scarwin," he says, as if Rooster Keep were not a robber castle.
  
  Sir Issan Marth says; "Well, traders passing by Alorend from Myre revealed to one of my servants that Lord Wernick has actually already been captured by the forces of Mardas Aldwyn. Not to mention - Lord Bomric and his son Sir Cortyn are dead as well, slain by the Baron of Berngard in the battle."
  
  Lord Horall hums. "If they already have the Scarwin lord as a captive, what is the point of besieging his keep? Mardas and Robert already possess the keys to the castle, so to speak," he points out.
  
  "Well, couldn't we take Myre? Lordless and hopeless - easy pickings, I'd say," Sir Lorran suggests. He takes a bite out of a leg of roasted chicken, and smacks his lips. He goes back to a conversation with some of the less important knights at the table, ostensibly discussing the merits of the various attack points, though they laugh too often to be talking martially. There is a general lull in the discussion as the men at the table laugh at some dancing women and particoloured jugglers, more wine for the high status men-at-arms and beer for the sergeants being brought out in great barrels.
  
  "A message from Fyrdos, m'liege. From the Low Lands," one of your valots says, quickly running over. Another missive from Lord Amias Enguerrand I. He mentions your promise to provide all help within your means to his cause, and informs you that war with Mallick is at hand. He once again asks that you deploy your forces to aid him in destroying your nemesis, but also asks that if you still cannot, you may at least be able to provide some means of financial or material aid to the war effort. He thanks you profusely for your time, your previous response, and any aid you can render.
  
• 
  ✵ Cʟᴀɴ MᴀᴄEᴀɴʀᴜɪɢ ✵
  
  The king kisses you on both of your cheeks. "Thank you, my lord. With your aid secured, we are prepared to move upon our foes. Let us take this time to discuss our next stratagem scarefully. I have with me Oran Ewynor, my Hearthkeeper." The man bows, having a long and well-kempt brown beard, and he wore Grenn's standard on a surcoat over his long green tunic. The King introduces several other officers of his, including the Steward of Kuldren, Manick Raysend, and last and not least the High Lord of Slayte, Yarth Murryn. "You know him as the man who led the relief of Byron's Bastion," says the king. You also know that Murryn is probably of some distant relation to your vassal, Lord Amos Murray.
  
  Lord Yarth nods. "It was an honour to fight alongside your brother. Robert distinguished himself well, I've seen few men of arms such as he. He can cut one of those heathens down as if it were no challenge whatsoever." He smiles, seeming to have a liking for you despite your absence from that fight - after all, you are your brother's unmarred visage. Some have said that duplicate children have a part of their spirit with their counterpart at all times - even that one will die shortly after the other if one is killed.
  
  The king goes on. "My son, Prince Rylan, is currently at Tref Iawn. He and the High Lord of Wehrcarden are prepared to lay a swift siege to the Edmundian fortress of Mogg, which has long menaced our riverland folk with its tolls and the unfree work upon the battlements demanded by its evil castellans."
  
  A messenger arrives from the west, hailing from the royal mead hall in Darndon. Apparently, there's trouble in Darndonland, Sherfield, and the Lordship of Lanidor. "Eh? Damn it... Jesworth was sacked, and my otherwise loyal noblemen are at each other's throats. Amias and Mallick would never turn their backs on me, but alas, they turn their swords on one another. It seems I will have to negotiate a peace between these men, before we proceed any further. Then, we could rendezvous with my son's army at Grandserry, and make preparations to take the Carmon garrison at Malleyeth," the King of Fyrdos hums.
  
  "How will we prevent word from spreading south?" asks one of the high-ranking hearth knights that is present at the council, whose identity eludes you because he only wears a plain scarlet tabard. He goes on. "... perhaps we should consider having everybody in these garrisons put to the sword. Nary a witness."
  
  "No, no," says Oran. "That will arouse far too much anger. There men of good birth in those castellanies. Slower for the Carmondians to respond in the short-term, but more fiercely in the long-term? Prithee, no."
  
  "Let's not preclude a negotiated surrender - it will save time and gold if these men yield the castles themselves. We wouldn't be able to just kill them afterwards," Lord Amos Murray says, having come to meet the king from Killdarren.
  
  "What of the people?" asks an old tribe chief in a tartan ionar. "The masses will love to see those villains whipped through the streets. Let everyone see it, I say! We will need the common army of this kingdom in order to have any hope of defeating the heavy horses and sheer numbers of the Carmondians."
  
  "The knights of Fyrdos are second to none. We do not need the mob in order to win this fight," protests the red knight.
  
  "You are a fool. The Carmondians will have padded jerkins and mail, while we have wetted our blades on nothing but bare-legged clansmen with naught for armour but woollen mantles and hair tunics," says Sir Allister, your young yet sharp hearth knight. "We can beat them, maybe - but we will need numbers. We're a little kingdom - while they have many towns. There could be thousands of men sent up from the south."
  
• 
  ⚜ Bᴀʀᴏɴʏ ᴏғ Bᴇʀɴɢᴀʀᴅ ⚜
  
  One sergeant refuses to be made into a serf. You recognize him as the Buckell sergeant from the Battle of Bronsfield, who struck Gautham Aldwyn in the side of the head with his sword - this blow was, of course, not the lethal strike delivered several moments later by Cortyn's great sword, and Gautham had retaliated by delivering a blow with his sword that divorced most of the toes from the sergeant's foot. Still, this wasn't enough to stop him from unhorsing and killing a Dripwood valot. After Elroy, Sir Mortus Ranglen's bastard, struck him twice in the head with his mace, he was left so grievously injured that he requests to be hanged rather than be made into some landless serf.
  
  The rest of the men who cannot afford to pay their ransoms are enserfed. This raises the question of several men whose homes do not lie within your fiefs, and how they will have means to support themselves. Still, everyone acquiesces to the offer over fear of being put to death.
  
  Whatever forces the hamlets of Masserly and Aldheed could muster surrender to your host without issue, however, your men are not allowed within the gates of Ramscrest. Upon attempting to force entry, they were fired upon by arrow, and instead have settled in for a long siege. The Lord-Steward of Ramscrest has sent you a missive offering his conditional surrender for the extortionate price of eight-hundred crowns. He promises you that his garrison is numerous, well-armed and well-provisioned, and a siege will be costly. Nevertheless, your forces have begun digging in around the town for just that, fearing a sally should the talk of their numbers be true.
  
  You do, however, receive a response to your letters, later...
  
  Lord Mardas received news of his son's death, and is too stricken with grief to take up his quill for any great reply. However, he does send a small note back with your messenger, saying that he will disperse the weakened army approaching Wesgrath lands.
  
  Rather than Ramcrest's Lord-Steward, you receive one from the Lady Regent, who offers different terms.
  
  
  On the back of the letter, she says she is willing to parley with you in the village outskirts of Ramcrest, a safe distance from the walls.
  
  During the feast, you also receive a missive from Lord Phillipe of Flamebay.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
• 
  Ω Ꮯꮮꭺɴ Ꮐꭼꭺꭰꮖꮪꮯꮋ Ω
  
  
  
  A quarry is built in the hills nearby the villages of Bronnant and Blanwech, worked by Geadisch thralls and administered by one of the freeborn Geadisch and his foremen and stone-carters.
  
  After some careful accounting by your wise men, they manage to scrounge up an extra twenty-two gold pieces. Half of those gold pieces were found with the possessions of a thrall-scribe, so he was hauled off to the training grounds as a matter of course.
  
  The thrallwoman is summoned to meet you. She wears colourful beads on her wrists, and a dark jerkin over a sanguine dress. The black-of-hair girl smiles, bowing her head and showing you deference. Whatever insolences she may have committed to Dolaidh, she seems to respect you. The woman does not speak unless spoken to, diverting her eyes to the floor. When bid to speak, you find she looks into your eyes.
  
  When given the opportunity to speak, she tells you several things. "My name is Vayla, m'lord. Your man Dolaidh has never liked me. I can insult him by merely by looking at him. He ordered my father put to death yesterday, so I bit him in his tongue... I beg for your forgiveness, m'lord. He would see me put to death, and I am very scared. Some of the men whom I love also fear for me, and I am sorry if that is unseemly... but... I love them as well. I shall advocate for these men."
  
  
  Vayla
  
  Meanwhile, at the council meeting in the great hall of Fynbroke castle...
  
  "Sending skirmishers would only alert Daric that an attack is impending. We must strike with all our might, with swiftness and surprise! That way, Hedgton will be our's by nightfall. Mark my words!" advises one of your reavers. A cold, calculating man named Josarah, who you know aspires to be landed as one of your Aeldormen, and perhaps aims to claim Hedgton or a peripheral hamlet by way of leading this brazen assault. His family is known to be rivals with Clan Naoghas, from which your blacksmith and the Aeldorman of Falacree come.
  
  Aeldorman Naoghas counters Josarah's position. "It would be wiser to send the skirmishers, and at the same time, attack Mounton and Jakell. There, we can gather supplies for the winter, take thralls, and take vengeance, with little danger to our limited forces. Coinciding these raids with the sending of the skirmishers will limit what reprisal Graffoth can organize against our reavers."
  
  One of Aeldorman Trelk's shieldmen speaks up. "The Lord of Moyes has ambitions in Hedgton... though you might doubt he'd give up the town to our ilk, once it's taken. Maybe he could be dealt with afterwards." The Lord of Moyes, one of Lord Lanidor's vassals, is mostly shielded from Geadisch raids from the royal burgh and its attendant lands to the north of him, though that doesn't mean the occasionally small hamlet of his hasn't been sacked. Still, he may be able to be reasoned with, if he thinks he can take the town for himself.
  
  "Hah! Do you really think he will listen?" asks Murchag. "I know many think King Grenn weak, but why would this small lord risk so much to attack his king's own sheriff?"
  "He would be unwise to do so, yes - he would risk an attack from the Sherfieldmen," mentions another shieldman.
  
  Eogan gently taps his walking staff on the floor. "If it pleases," he speaks softly, "I believe the man you call Moyes will be willing to hear such terms..." You have heard that your neighbours to the south fancy themselves as lords in their own right, despite being subvassals. Many consider this thought carefully, though Eogan still has those who sneer at his advise, though they are never resentful of his presence, which has become quite normal.
  
  "The Sherfieldmen can do nothing to assist Hedgton. Lords Enguerrand and Cerham are on the precipice of war, and it provides ample oppurtunity to raid the fertile lands of Sherfield while they're distracted. Let us strike at Taernsby!" cries a young shieldman with a great, braided moustache.
  
  
  Taernsby
  
  Later on, the scouts return with information on Hedgton, and are able to provide a map of the town and its surrounding areas.
  
  
  
• * Clansmen and soldiers were killed when the MacEanruigs assisted in the relief of Byron's Bastion. *
  
  
  
  |-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|-|
  
  
  
  MacEanruig casualties
  † MacEanruig hearth man-at-arms
  † MacEanruig clanfolk mounted warrior
  † MacEanruig clanfolk mounted warrior
  † MacEanruig clanfolk mounted warrior
  † MacEanruig clanfolk mounted warrior
  † MacEanruig clanfolk mounted warrior
  
  Barbarian casualties
  (Inflicted by MacEanruigs - hundreds more killed by allies.)
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Stone Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  † Deargol Clans warrior
  

​

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Following nearly two hours of deliberation, Amias would finally adjourn his war council without settling on any one strategy. He would give his knights strict orders to not take any action yet, and instead array themselves and their retainers at Holmfirth, in preparation to move out.

During the recess of the war council, Tonis would approach his liege on the topic of punishing the knights involved at Jesworth.

"Charge them a goldpiece each," Tonis says. "It may be well and good that we have such discipline on record, but don't ruin them. A lot of men don't have nearly as much in their coffers as we have in the treasury at Sherfield castle. Perhaps we could make the fine seem larger by having you pay some of it on their behalf, and give it towards the peace offer to Mallick."

Amias scoffs at the idea of paying his vassals' fees. "You expect me to...!?" Amias begins, before heaving a great sigh. "Two gold pieces. The fee will remain at four total. I will cover half, and put it toward the peace offer," Amias grumbles.

After speaking with Tonis, Amias would retire to his chambers to write a letter to his rival, Mallick, making an attempt to restore peace before things truly got out of hand. Amias would urge him to see reason, and that going to war would leave both of them in a disadvantaged position come the real war that is brewing. He would also imply, quite very vaguely, that, if King Grenn were to rebel against the Carmondians, Amias would take his side; citing his endless love for Fyrdia and her people, and referring only to his fealty to Baron Thorpe -- meaningfully omitting any talk of loyalty to King Edmund, an absence which talks on Amias' deteriorating loyalties to the southron King. In this way, though it would be of no doubt to Mallick where Amias would stand come the uprising assuming it were backed by the King of the Fyrds, the letter could not be used as damning, incriminating proof of Amias' plans to defect.

Finally, he would offer to pay three-hundred gold pieces to Cerham as reparations for the killing of the Darndon noble, the raid at Jesworth, and to put the feud to rest and restore peace and trade between the townships of Sherfield and Darndon. In return, Amias asks that Mallick extradite Marson Kads, and grant him logging rights within the forests around Cerham Castle, which Amias would be willing to purchase for an additional one-hundred gold, totaling his offer of Weregeld at four-hundred gold. Should Mallick accept these terms, Amias would require his assent in writing, so as to prevent Mallick from going back on his word without Amias' ability to proclaim him a public enemy for breaking the truce.

Amias would send another message, to Tarren Moyes. He would inform him that an attack by Mallick may be imminent, and implore him to raise his levies and call his liege lord and fellow vassals to arms, amassing their forces at Moyes. In the event of the outbreak of war, Amias would ask that the army of Lanidor focus on excursions into the Lordship of Ruthold, while the forces of Enguerrand, Thorpe, and Melgan attack the lordships of Shepbrook and Darndon directly.

Then, Amias would message Baron Thorpe and the Lord of Daelstride. He would inform them of the action at Jesworth, though they'd likely already been informed, and ask that they begin to raise their levies, and suggest they may wish to march to Holmfirth to join Amias' army, either fording the river at Couryonne or forcing passage over Rayner's Crossing. Lord Thorpe would be authorized to raise the levy of Porthaewidge, and enlist Sir Melstar and his retinue.

Finally, Amias would message the Lord of the Midlands, calling on him to raise his army as well, and suggesting that when war is declared, he should launch a lightning offensive into Rystreck, before continuing on to lay siege to Darndonton, where his army will likely join those of Amias and Tobin.

In preperation for Mallick to turn down his offer of peace, Amias would assemble his full army of a thousand and five-hundred men at Holmfirth, doubling the village's population overnight. He and his council would also move there, taking up residence in Telemar's manor. Amias would give Mallick merely two hours to return his letter, before fully committing to the conflict, unwilling to allow Mallick to make the first move.

Should Amias' message not be returned in due time, the following attack plan would be put into action forthwith. Parties of two men-at-arms and six mounted grooms, each led by one knight, will be assembled to strike at Buldnor and Urkyth at once. The rest of the cavalry, aside from Amias and his officers, save for Charibert whom will lead, will ride out to Shepbrook. There, they will assess the village's defenses and garrison. As the cavalry moves in, at the same time all four of the cogs will head down river, manned by sergeants, footmen and archers, captained by a squire. Should the cavalry judge that Shepbrook can be taken with this combined force, then it shall be. If the oppurtunity presents itself to strike with advantage even without the riverine force, Charibert shall take it. Should Shepbrook be taken, Sir Glens will be installed as it's Lord per his ancestral claims, and Rayner's Crossing will be next, and a blockade by river shall be put in place. For this purpose, the remaining five cogs in Sherfieldton and Holmfirth will be drafted into service, bringing to bear all of Amias' naval might, but the blockading ships will only be armed with a small compliment of archers, enough to ward off any civilians attempting to run the blockade.

Finally, Amias would send one-hundred and fifty gold to the Master of Jesworth as reparations for the actions of his knights. Although he may very well find himself at war with the Jesworthians in short time, Amias was of honorable stock, and despite this, feels the need to recompense for the unjust cruelties placed upon the people of Jesworth by his knights. Along with the reparations, Amias would send a letter apologizing sincerely for his knights' actions, and suggest that should war be declared, no further harm will befall Jesworth unless soldiers attack Amias' forces from it. ​

 

[Lorsh]

Φ-Hᴏᴜsᴇ Gᴜʟᴀ-Φ

Crocodile


Vizgard

Overcast skies loom above mighty Vizgard. Summer has come, and so have the tides of war. The people now look to someone to guide them to freedom.

Despite the whisperings of a great revolt - a thousand swords ready to be drawn in Gwyburgh - things remained mostly quiet at Vizgard. The routine of castle life continued; stable lads took care of the horses as they roamed and grazed in their paddocks, feeding them, mucking out their stalls and giving them water. Household servants took care of most of the day's menial chores, overseen by your majordomo, Kesmar. Interspersed among the castle staff were people working in the kitchen, preparing meals, baking bread and brewing beer. With the resident magnate's current appetite, the castle kitchen was rarely idle. Guardsmen minded the gate, only letting folk in from Vizgard Vill if those outcrofter yokels surrounding the castle had official business in the Gula caput.


Silver Goblet Inn

Vizgard Vill, the settlement surrounding Vizgard Castle as simple palisade-defended outworks, hosted over twenty families, and had a sizable inn known as the Silver Goblet, a popular stop on the way to Gwyburgh, Careg, or Urnmoth. Here, mercenaries, adventurers, and other itinerants often swap news with the innkeeper and wenches, which you are privy to as well. It is a simple arrangement - looser tongues mean more words slipping forth, so the drink had to be provided. The Silver Goblet needed amenities to be desirable, so naturally, it may be of the lordship's interest to keep in good condition. That is not to say that the establishment doesn't make a subsistent amount of gold on its own, although their ale is sold quite cheaply for not being at all watery. Mirthful music from the travelling jongleurs that play about the hall of tables drifts out from the Goblet's unshuttered windows.

Meanwhile, in the high councilroom of Vizgard, the sycophants and courtiers have been left behind, leaving you only with your closest advisors and men of arms. "My Lord," Meldraut begins, bowing his head. Your captain of the guard has served you faithfully for many years. Sharp of mind and sword, though not a knight. "We have every reason to believe that the situation in Gwyburgh is highly akin to a firepot ready to explode. However, our report from Sir Egton tells that Lord Arathand and his garrison, along with the Carmondian-Gwyburgher militia from the Boldward, tend to have fewer than a thousand men in arms at any one time. However, this does not take into account potential draftees from the hinterlands - or if the militia in town were mobilised against us en masse."


Sir Harpe, one of many knights

"The longer he take to remove him, the more time he will have to rouse the Carmon populace against us," remarks Sir Harpe, one of your more trustworthy hearth knights. Long and yellow of hair, with a small moustache.

"The Fyrdians in the city, as well as the downtrodden folk of Hartown and the old Fyrdward will flock to any cause that promises to berid them of the Magistracy," another high-ranking knight, Sir Dethric says. It is known that those outworks around Gwyburgh are mostly of Fyrdosian stock, and the districts each have their own local guard captains.



"Do you think we will have enough numbers to overthrow them form within?" asks Sir Maythred. "Mayhap... we throw open the main gate."

"The main gate?" Captain Meldraut scoffs. "There are too many knights there to contend with, that is, if you are not skewered by a stake-thrower or scalded by hot bog oil. We cannot go in through that way."

Sir Dethric replies, "well, we can't get into the main city, any other way. The towers are equally menacing, and evenly spread... and even if we take one of the outer wards, they are each separate from the main walls."

Kesmar, chief among your advisors, speaks up after a hacking cough. "There are sally ports. Hidden passageways... and let us not forget the naval option. The Dock District is not walled from the sea... though, we are lacking in knowledge regard Arathand's maritime capabilities. Some of his ships left with the Carmondians when they invaded Valcay to the south, but we are not certain how many of these vessels returned. Mostly cogs, horse transports... I digress." Coughing again, Kesmar turns his head, looking at your corpulent figure for input. Quickly, the rest of the eyes in the hall fall upon you as well.​

 

[Lord Bradorian]

£-Aᴛᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ-£

You awaken to the usual vision out your large window of your harbor. Stationed directly outside is your small flotilla of personal cogs and other craft. In the larger part of the harbour, tradeships have already arrived early in the morning - some of the sigils you can make out belong to the houses or towns of Yonbry, Sunwick, Brenheed, Delster, and the Dyrnwalders of Kanarith. Trade has gone well this spring, despite the cropping up of regional wars as of late - you have several belligerents' peoples trading at your bay now. The price of grain is up thanks to the rampant sacking that has gone on, with many farms and fields torched around Galarhold and Myre.

The land is in turmoil. Six months ago, King Agbert's war in Valcay, which had dragged on for years, finallg along Agbert himself, was ended. His son, King Edmund, ascended to the throne in order, but his rule has been unpopular. Many view him as a weak King. As such, there are fears of rebellions or uprisings by various different factions - the powerful barons and magistrates forming the consulships of the south, the rogues around Sunwick and the Flamebay, and of course, the oppressed clans of Fyrdos, and their vassalking, Lord Grenn. The Baron of Flamebay strikes that of Skerry, the Baronies of Aldwyn and the Myre have brought allies to a significant conflict, and of course, Edmund's brother-in-law Galark were slew at Waraslar. In the north, an alliance of barbarians of the Stone and Deargol Clans assaulted Byron's Bastion, sacking the town and besieging the fortress before being rebuffed by the horse of Lords Murryn of Slayte and Sir Robert of Kragwyn, amongst others'. Also in Fyrdos, a friend of your's across the realm, Lord Enguerrand of Sherfield, is on a war footing with his neighbor, Mallick Cerham, High Lord of Darndon. This Mallick is a dangerous enemy, his demense dwarfing that of Amias' clan. When you last received word from Amias some weeks ago, he spoke of having made formal alliances with his in-laws, the Baron of Thorpe and the Lord of Daelstride, the latter's vassal. The old lord spoke of worries of his King's reaction to his bringing Carmon soldiers to the conflict under his banner, but believed he knew Grenn well enough to say that he will understand Amias' hands being tied in this matter - he could not hope to stand alone against Cerham and warlordlings.



In the last week, knights of the Barony of Berngard as well as the Barony of the Myre visited your township on separate days, accompanied by small gangs of respective liveried retainers. The Myremen requested, respectfully, that your Lord-Mayorship may visit Lord Bomric at his seat in Myre Town, to discuss terms of hiring your mercenaries - if you were willing to enlist some of your soldiers to Lord Bomric's service, you could bring however many along with you, and the Lord of the Myre would guarantee to hire them all for at least two months' contract. Though these particular terms are now moot due to the passing of Lord Bomric at Bronsfield, it's likely you could hammer out a similar deal with his heir apparent, Lady Malcress-Grannos of Midburgh, or the current regent of the barony, his widow, Lady Sheila Malcress.

Your councilmen recently gave you a brief summary of the Myre-Aldwynian conflict thus far. Nearly two months ago now, Lord Bomric Malcress of the Barony of the Myre launched a surprise attack on the village of Haldrup, owned by his rival, Lord Mardas Aldwyn. It is disputed whether Bomric had a legitimate claim to press on that hamlet - however, such was not much of a matter, as soon after Lord Malcress made incursions into Swantonland, prompting the formulation of an alliance against him; the Baron of Aldwyn called to war the Baronies of Swanton, Dripwood, and Berngard, along with their vassals. In reaction, the Baron of the Myre called to action his cohorts in the Scarwin and Yonbry lands. After some manuevering, skirmishing and pillaging, the cavalries of both armies finally met outside Bronsfield, a town within the Myre. There, the Army of Aldwyn, led by the Lord of Berngard, defeated Bomric's. Unfortunately, the event occurred only two days after you'd been contacted to hire out mercenaries, and had not worked out terms with either party in time to have your men at the fight. The rogues' horsemen were destroyed, their lieges put to rout, killed or captured, and their notables imprisoned. The fate of the Barony of the Myre is unknown, as Sir Cortyn Malcress, Bomric's heir, was also slain, but many presume that Lady Maudlin Melghan, wife of Grannos Melgan, the Fyrdian Lord of the Midland, will present her claim, and others guess that Lords Mardas or Robert will usurp the title for their kinsmen or even their own. While the footmen of the armies of Scarwin and fragmented Myre continue to stubbornly march to Wesgrath, having secured their passage after capturing Swanton Keep some months ago, the Baron of Yonbry has withdrew from the conflict, significantly diminishing the size of this force. Reports tell that an army of the townlings which highly outnumbers that of the rebels has sallied out of Wesgrath to eliminate the approaching threat.
​

A familiar knight wearing the crest of the Lord Berngard arrived the next day - one Sir Varryn Royck, Master of one of Robert's northernmost fiefs of Eshfyrd, an average hamlet, and of distant relation with the founders of Royck's Rook. As expected, Sir Royck had arrived to inquire about hiring mercenaries with you. Unlike Bomric, Lord Robert does not make any specific requests or guarantees, only asking if you're interested in making a deal, presumably through correspondence. It seems Lord Robert is not in as much of a rush, or as desperate - perhaps you could get more out of the Myres...Personally, Sir Royck says some words in an effort to sway you.

"Milord-cousin, I have served Lord Robert for only two years. But I have seen already his excellence - he is a master of the sword, a mentor of tactics. He is, as well, a stalwart leader. Despite being at disadvantage at Bronsfield, he led our forces to complete victory! Lord Malcress, Paragon forgive him, has invaded the lands of our ally, Lord Mardas, with unjust cause, and around him, ambitious rogues flock to take their pound of flesh. Should you help us repel these criminals, I assure you, my liege will reward you handsomely."​

​

 

[Lorsh]

φ Lᴏʀᴅsʜɪᴘ ᴏғ Sʜᴇʀғɪᴇʟᴅ φ

As the army passes through on its way to wreak havoc in neighbouring Darndonland, the last of the serfs finally make done their harvest of the spring wheat. As corn is ground in the watermills, the men are given freshly baked bread and wellbrewed ale along their march by the villfolk. The odd freeborn man is found and pressed into service by your retained men to bolster the ranks of the army, some only carrying a staff.


Conclusion of the spring wheat harvest

The Darndonland army is closer than you'd anticipated. In fact, it seems as if Mallick has pounced upon you as soon as you marched into his domain. Several outriders are reported killed and wounded sore by javelins, slingshot and arrows. Some of your men clashed shields with Mallick's forest clansmen already, though both sides retreated not long afterwards, neither committing to a disorganised melee. Still, it seems that this chance encounter has quickly grown to the scale of a pitched battle between thousands of soldiers.

Riding at the front ranks with your younger brother Amias, your father's captain Sir Charibert and his own knightly son, Sir Fygren, you witness the approach of Sir Pelisar, a knight of Lord Tobin's contingent. "My lords," he bows as your in-laws and their lieges rein their charges up beside you. "The enemy are near," their knight cries. Swords begin to be drawn from their scabbards as the cold rasp of iron fills the air, and targes and spears and axes are brought to bear.

The knights and men-at-arms of Fyrdos begin to form a battle line alongside their Carmondian allies, the clinking of many iron caparisons filling the air. A solid line of razor-sharp lances, swords, heavy horses and armour. Your horse is well-barded with a trapper of tempered steel chain and a silver-studded chamfron of hardened hide, purpled and whitened on split sides with leather dye. The solid headpiece is cut with holes to give the horse sight, and is securely tied to the mail harness.


Darndonland infantry

"Have no fear, lad," Charibert says to Amias III. "We've assembled all of our might. There is no better timing than now." It was true that Shepbrook had been taken easily, and that Buldnor and Urkyth were also sacked without any issue. The speed at which Mallick's army moved was matched by the quickness in which Charibert managed to rendezvous his forces shortly before the chance encounter.

Sir Fygren's squire passes him his lance, and he takes a deep breath. "The battle today was meant to be. Tomorrow, let us meet on the plain of victory, or the plane of the Hallowed Realm." Several lords and knights lowered their heads in a quick prayer to Paragon Emmortal above, asking Him to grant them triumph. Then, you find every head turning to look at you.

"What do we do, Sir?" asks Lord Telemar, a look of worry showing through his open-faced bascinet. Son of Lord Amias, you must command this field. Already, you can see the army of Mallick beginning to form in the distance, a forest of spears and banners. You hear the call of a horn that resounds throughout the countryside, making every heart beat harder. Behind your frontmost battle of cavalry is the common army of Sherfield, within it the lives of thousands of common tenants that have come armed in your father's cause.

​

 

[Lord Bradorian]

"Hold fast. We will allow Mallick's cavalry to make the first move, and engage them thusly. Once they are dealt with, we must focus our attentions on their northern flank - it would be folly to face the enemy head-on - he is known to outnumber us. We will defeat him in detail. Should the tides turn against us, or should I fall, you all must ensure an orderly retreat into the Thorpelands," Sir Amias bellowed to his fellow knights. Assuming his knights were in agreement with his outlined battleplan, Sir Amias would ride out to the front of his ranks, in full view of his army - and the enemy's.

"Men! Today is a an unfortunate one. We must turn our swords on our countrymen, do battle with our neighbors. Milord-father has toiled endlessly to help Lord Mallick see reason, through endless letters and offers of weregild. But still, Mallick spits in his face, sheltering his enemies and soiling his name, and his men tried to murder Lord Telemar at Freyk. For this, we must MAKE him see reason! Today we put this mindless feud to rest, and we secure the future of our Houses, our families! And at the end of it, you shall all see riches and be allotted land you'd never dreamed of! Today, we make our own luck! Do not fight for me! Do not fight for your liege! Fight for the man aside you!" Amias would cry at the top of his lungs, so that as many of the troops could hear him as possible.

Once his men had settled in reaction to his speech, Amias would issue his first command of the battle. "Nock arrows!" he screamed. Once safely regrouped with the chivalry, he would finish the command, holding the opposing army at swordpoint.

"Loose!"

Young Amias' eyes widen in terror. He had only trained with his brother for four months, yet here he was, attending to him as he commands an army of his father in battle. And Amias knew that he would be expected to join him and the other knights in counter-charging Lord Mallick's horsemen. He prayed silently to Paragon, shifting uncomfortably in his barely fitting armors, his brother's many lessons running through his mind. Would today be the day he'd die? There was so much he hadn't done, or seen! Fear gripped Young Amias in totality. Charibert's words did little to put him at ease.
​

---

The night of the Jesworth raid, sleep escaped Old Amias. Guilt, worry and fear coursed through him, banning him from slumber. His wife, Lady Royse, took notice. "Are you alright, my dear? What're we still doing up?" she asks.

Amias sighs, and places a long kiss unto his Lady's lips. "I'm alright, dear. I am only...Spurned to wakefulness, by anticipation of the battles ahead," Amias tells her with a lackadaisical smile. His eyes had deep, purple bags underneath. Besides his normal issues sleeping - Amias had issues with everything, almost - the precipitating conflict with Mallick had further robbed him.

"Sweet Amias...Pray with me," Royse said, before pulling herself onto her knees on the large mattress, and taking her husband's hand. "Milord. Please be by our side in the coming trial. Please aid ye faithful and ye long-toiling servants, whom hath seen your love for all our lives, and shall watch on it forevermore. Grant us the strength of one hundred thousand giants, the speed of one hundred thousand horses, and the heart of one hundred thousand of your nonpareil. See us through to the end of our endeavors, and we will bring hundreds if not thousands of our enemies to thy light, by Paragon's name!" Royse sermoned.

Amias was moved to tears by her words. After a long moment of silence, Royse had not yet ended the prayer. She expected Amias to say his piece.

"My lord-father...I love you so. I ask you for nothing, milord. I only hope that you see that I love you, and I serve you as best as I can manage with these old hands, each and every day...Oh, how I toil..." Amias would mutter, as his face contorted with grief.

"Amen."​

 

[Crocodile]

The corpulent Ricardi Gula ran his fat, ringed fingers along the map of Gwyburgh with a thoughtful expression as he listened to those sworn to him. His beady, intelligent eyes regarding the details of the city. He was eager to tip things over but knew that intrigue would win the day. Guards and servants could be bribed or eliminated. Corruption was the tool he sought to wield here.

"The main gate is suitable, but we must make it ours. Bribes, poison, killings. I want people under our influence put into control of it. Find their weak points and exploit them. Lovers, children, pleasure or money. If all else fails, we will spike casks of beer and mead with something nasty and make sure the gate and garrison get those. When the uprising comes, I want the local guards shitting themselves to death or already dying from what we give them. This is no time for honor. They will show none to rebels."

"The inn in Vizton, I want some more investment into it. More leads and agents we can get. I must spread my web wider to carry out this plan. Is that understood? We will quietly martial support from the locals. Get them weapons, but we must control the servants of our conquerors. Poison and knives. There will be no one safe in the night the rebellion finally comes. We much hunt them like a spider, entrapping them in the web... and then we will strike with venom and viciousness."