THE HAMMERHEAD, EDITION V

[GMRO 6187]

 

Spoiler

(music ambiance)

BREAKING NEWS

 

Special thanks to the following for working so hard! @MotherLay @kaylacita @indiana105 @Demavend @ContestedSnow

 

 

THE HAMMERHEAD, EDITION V

 

 

Issued as of 633 E.S., 653 A.A., or 2080 A.H.

Published by the Theodosian Society

 

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“Black Company Trading was founded more than four centuries ago by Rhys I var Ruthern, Count of Metterden. Since its initial founding as a vassal levy, its trade has significantly expanded outward to include several businesses, including restaurants, mercenaries, shops, and a crier’s sheet, ‘The Hammerhead.’ Since the fall of the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska, the Company has sought to adapt to our Continental Empire and to the modern reader. This publication has been written in collaboration with, and as part of, the Theodosian Society.”

Herald of the Hammerhead

 

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GOD WILLS IT

Penned by Father Ailred

 

The crusade in the south, called by His Holiness Pontiff Caius II continues its preparations to strike out at the foul forces of evil, those of the Black Sepulchre and those who denigrate the sanctity of the church by naming themselves “the Black Church.” Such play will surely be punished righteously and forthrightly by God through His willing servants, the men and women of the whole of the Empire of Azuras.

 

His Holiness has hosted a series of wargames throughout the Empire to bolster its frontlining men, the cream of the crop, to ensure that the crusades smash through any meagre defences the forces of darkness may attempt to prepare. As His Holiness himself said in his proclamation, “The Holy Mother Church shall not abide the conquests of the servants of Iblees,” and so the Church shall continue to welcome donations to its war chests in preparation to rid us of these dastardly creatures once and for all. 

 

We pray for our troops in the coming fighting to undo those who seek to blaspheme and stand against the will of GOD and our Emperor. 

 

Are you doing your part?

 

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THANHIUM ON THE WATER

Penned by Andrey Barrow

 

Black sails under the sun can mean nothing but ill tidings, as it is with recent sightings from about the southern shores. Reports made to the Hammerhead by those brave sons and daughters of the Empire, whom of course, are in the midst of carrying out God’s will, seem to indicate the appearance of a strange sort of galley. This small misshapen vessel, which bearing both the cross of the Lorraine and a most foreboding black skull, is probable; in accordance with scholars of the eminent Theodosian Society, to be a scouting vessel originating from the Empire of Aeldin or some such associate.

 

Those most learned among us will recall the atrocities of the nefarious Empire in Savoy so many years ago, which left a ruinous blight on the southern coast of Almaris, of which only in recent memory does the devastation of Johannesburg compare. Our scholars had pointed to a text of these Aeldenic mercenaries, citing, "the blood of Ashford is one that is stained with rebellion and dishonour, akin to those of the first Horenic Houses of the Empire." One must wonder then, what interest these villains, with their Thanhic bombs and other unfamiliar weapons of war, may have in our own golden shores.

 

We advise any citizen of Azuras to keep their wits about them when visiting the coast. And, to keep a watchful eye out for any similar ill tidings.

 

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THE IMPERIAL WEDDING OF 632 E.S.

Penned by Lady Anastasya Ruthern née Galahar

 

Within the Imperial Palace’s throne room, a monumental collection of nobility and citizenry gathered to witness the nuptials of Her Imperial Highness, Pontia Vesta Horen, and the future Duke of Valmont, Remus Aurelius Helane. A Ducal heir and Imperial Princess is sure to make a powerful match. The event was held in two parts: first, the procession; second, the feast.

 

The nuptials were executed with precision and grace. It was as if every movement, a glance, a breath, and a smile were all rehearsed to perfection. Much akin to a dance, the moves were sharp and practised, but there was an air of effortlessness still hanging in the air. Father Lothaire Cardinal Montcollier, an esteemed member of the Imperial clergy, carried out the procession of marriage rites. 

The feast was bountiful and packed with attendants. The newlyweds were swarmed with eager congratulations and well-wishes, which took up most of their time. It was not until the event began to wind down in numbers that they were able to make their rounds to greet any outliers. This writer has sympathy for the couple, as they surely had no time to feast while their food was hot. To long-lasting devotion and the beginning of a new life together.

 

Congratulations to the new husband and his wife for their wedding, and their babe!

 

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THE MONTHLY ALMANAC

 

For the Northern Regions of Tarnarvon, Ghaestenwald, and Kvasz.

 

 

Wzuvar ag Byvca ☼

Jula ag Piov ☼

Vzmey ag Hyff ϟ

Gronna ag Droba ❅ϟ

Tov ag Yermey ❅ϟ

Msitza ag Dargund ❅

Joma ag Umund ❅

 

 

For the Imperial Capital, Alba, Trost, and further abound.

 

 

Horen’s Calling ϟ

Owyn’s Light ☼

Godfrey’s Triumph ☼

Aurelian’s Glory ☼

Sun’s Smile ϟ

Harren’s Folly ❅ϟ

Dragon’s Roar ❅

 

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GREYE TRADING

Penned by the “Faithful Father’s Finest Finds”

 

 

As I wandered around the Imperial Capital of Rittersburg, my eyes often glanced through the storefronts of many spots with unique shopping opportunities; none stood above that of the Greye Trading at Stewards Way I. There is no greater way to furnish one’s home than with a carpet, and there is certainly no alternative for design in such intricate stylings than at Greye’s Trading. To those who caution buying due to their feline companions, fret not! The weaving of their rugs might as well be blended with carbarum itself, for it ridded my cat of its pesky claws. 

 

And yet, I still have not even spoken of the paintings, wherein we picked up a map of Azuras at a most affordable rate. Butterflies, Azuras, other… Such paintings and trappings. In truth, if you have no other means by which to make your two-meter-by-two-meter Orcish yurt homely for those cold nights, it’s probably the best you’ll be able to even afford.

 

If you’re planning to decorate your home, it’s our advice that you stop off at Greye’s Trading for any needs you might have!

 

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AHEAD OF ITS TIME

Penned by Alric var Ruthern, Burgher of Ghaestenwald

 

The newly instituted Burgherraad sat for its first official meeting in the Imperial capital of Rittersburg, but was met with a great surprise. The very first bill to be debated within the Burghers’ chambers was to be one prompting the return of the widely used and storied A.H. dating system, dating back to the Ascension of Horen himself, and a mainstay on official documents across many Empires and realms for centuries. Many hoped to see these dates honouring Horen returned to the Imperial Proclamations and edicts of our own great Empire.

 

The bill received widespread popular support in the chamber when first suggested in preliminary meetings, but when the time came to officially discuss it, the bill was vetoed, with no further explanation for the veto. Burgher Oliver Napier, who originally put forward the bill, maintained a stiff upper lip despite the setback in a good show of decorum, had this to say regarding the matter:

 

"I am disappointed, but I understand the reasoning. It was a controversial matter, and I do wish to raise the subject again in the future. Respect for our history - not just the Empires, but Humanities, is a cause dear to me, and from what I have come to understand, dear to many others. You shall not hear the last of this, that I can promise." 

 

Troubling times ahead for the burgeoning Burgherraad as it attempts to set out its democratic course against Imperial power, or will a middle ground be found? We wait to find out.

 

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CROW’S COUNSEL

Penned by Lady Marjoreya Galahar, Baroness of Ghaestenwald

 

Privej!

 

I am Lady Marjoreya, wife to Franz of Galahar, Baron of Ghaenstenwald. I like to think myself well-versed in the histories of all peoples, not just my beloved Raev, and I think I have the right of how things ought to be. Some have called me a traditionalist. Others, an extremist! Is it truly that extreme to believe that Man ought to dominate all of Azuras? Would an extremist believe that those dwarf rats got what was coming to them? I think not. I am simply a reasonable woman. 

 

To you, our beloved readers of human stock, I offer my sage counsel. Send a crow bearing your ills to Ghaestenwald, and I shall respond… Right here! 

 

Our first submission comes from an Alban noblewoman.

 

“Good morrow! Mine husband hath of late taken unto himself a most strapping young man for his squire, one with long, lustrous, locks of gold, fair enough to shame Saint Julia herself, I daresay. Oft do they depart upon hunts most long… aye, exceedingly long. Methinks he spendeth more hours in the company of his squire than beside mine own self. In truth, I fear the squire mayhaps possesseth greater beauty than I.

 

My lord husband is ever occupied with his knightly duties, and neglecteth the matter of our House and lineage. To speak plain, he spurns me, and shall not sire children upon me. What counsel hast thou for a troubled lady wife?”

 

Listen well, Alban. Your husband shall take many hunts, with many squires, while you waste away in the empty halls of his hold. You, as his wife, must fulfill your duty to his House. It is your responsibility to raise his heirs, and see that his lineage continues. 

 

You ought to find a squire of your own that understands such things, preferably one who shares the blood of your husband. Does he perhaps have a younger brother?

 

This next submission came in from the capital itself, an Imperial soldier.

 

“Ave, pig-Raev. I am a Man. I am the Emperor’s chosen. I am a servant to our Imperium, and I love nothing more than to relish in the death of the enemies of Man. The touch of my wife brings me no joy. I only feel when I hear the tortured screams of a subhuman facing the Emperor’s righteous justice. The warmth of their filthy blood excites me beyond expression.

 

I have not changed my gambeson since the days of the War of Crown and Crozier. I remove it to relieve myself, on occasion. These garments have felt the touch of the Restorer, ever Tiber. I shall not wash away the Touch of the Dragon.

 

How can I cleanse the blood of the impure from my garments without washing them? As you are a woman, I feel you would be well-versed in such menial tasks. Ave Imperium.”

 

I know a ‘Renatien’ when I hear one. Come to Ghaestenwald, say this to my face. I’ll flay you myself and fashion a fine burgundy cloak of my own. 

 

Try salt for your rancid, disgusting rags. I have found it draws even the most stubborn blood from any fabric. 

 

And, the final submission for this publishing, a woman who claims to hail from Valwyck.

 

“Every night my husband drinks himself into a stupor at that damned Bear Trap! I tell him he’s a drunk, and he tells me - well, honestly, I don’t really know what he tells me. I can’t understand these people! Something about his culture, and that in his great-great-grandfather’s day, I wouldn’t be so uppity!? What in the Hells is he talking about?

 

Last night, I complained that he stunk of Carrion. He soiled himself, for God’s sake! He struck me with a large tree branch. Over, and over. I think he’s going to kill me, please help!”

 

It is the right of every Highlander to drink as we please. Godanistan has given us ale, and He has given us mouths. Have you, perhaps, tried caring for your husband when he returns from this Bear Trap? Fulfilling your sworn duty as his, I presume, baseborn (and homely, on account of your not joining him in the tavern) wife? 

 

After reading your nagging drivel, I fear he may be right. In the golden age of our kind, you would be worth, at most, a handful of almonds and three sheep. I fear you have only two options: remember your place, or strike him in turn. Both involve you to cease your beyond endless whinging.

 

If my lord husband placed hands upon me, he’d no longer have hands.

 

That’s all for this edition. If you have penned me a letter and you have not yet seen a response in Crow’s Counsel, fret not. Unless it was terribly boring, I will likely respond in the next edition of the Hammerhead!

 

God preserve the Empire of Azuras!

Godani Jest Wielki!

 

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That concludes the edition of the Hammerhead. We wish to thank our readers who remained loyal to us through the changing of the seasons and history. We implore those with stories worthy of note to send us word by crow, or dispatched to any of the Bureviy Host that you encounter, wherein it shall make its way back to us. 

 

God save the Emperor.

 

 

[TaraJess 2848]

Stuck to the confines of her home, Aurelian, in her boredom, spent her afternoon catching up on missives. This one, however, jolted her from her lazy near-slumber. "PA!!!" She shouted, her voice echoing through the house. "OUR SHOP IS IN THE PAPER! PEOPLE LIKE MY PAINTINGS!!!!!!!!!!"

[woke 1157]

"This is pure auric make," Antonius mused, the passage having stirred interest in him.

[trinn 5128]

“..ahahahahahahahahahahahaahahah…”

 

 

”..ahahahahahahah…”

 

Resounding laughter came from the tower of the Princess-Justiciar, a sound so scarcely heard from the confines of that gloomy office. The servants scrambled from the doors for fright of what it might mean.

[Cheese 8883]

“Your Grace, the Hammerhead,” spoke a courier who delivered the newspaper unto the Duchess of Valwyck’s desk.

 

Constantina took it thanklessly and leaned back to flip through the pages. It wasn’t long until she reached the last few pages, and skimmed through the Crow’s Counsel. Her lips thinned upon the first question hailing from her homeland. “Alban men are all the same, it seems, no?” She questioned to no one. “The Baroness Galahar seems to make a point in advising this Lady to ‘Take a squire of her own’.” Something of a dry laugh escaped Constantina, before she continued reading.

 

…When she reached the final entry, the Lady’s eyes widened some. Slowly, she folded the paper and set it neatly upon her desk. Her head creaked towards her courier, to whom she commented, “What a... creative solution to such a problem. Hm!”