Javert

"If there is one thing that I and my newly dubbed liege-lords agree upon, it is that a secular ruler should never hold a position as a religious leader - especially not as leader of the faith." Spoke Lord Meili Altwegg, who had only now began to cope with his new Druscan overlords - At least he knew they had similar ideologies.

FROM THE MARGRAVIATE OF AVISTRA CHALLENGE ACCEPTED Issued on the Thirteenth of Malin's Welcome, in the year of our Lord, 2034 LORD ROGER OF DRUSCO, Your challenge to arms has been received. Make no mistake, I will not shy away nor cower in my keep in the face of this request of yours. I will meet you on the field of the battle as my honor, the honor of my house, and the honor of my people requires such. I will meet you on the date which you have proposed. Whether I ride to my own victory or defeat at your hands remains to be seen, but ride I shall. And to the Avistrans who rally to my command thus far, hear me: We have won victories and suffered defeats over the course of this war. Now, I ask you once more to rally to my side. Let us defend our homes with sword in hand. Signed, His Lordship, Ser Meili Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Baron of Wing’s Crest, Knight of Ivoria

"They made a secular King the head of the faith?! Have they gone ******* mad?!" roared one of the many Imperial vassals. This decree had taken him by complete and utter surprise.

THE SON OF FIMBULWINTER THE PEOPLE OF THE NORTH ARE A ZEALOUS ONE. Thus, like our southern counterparts, we find ourselves believing in an assortment of prophecies and religious truths which we hold close to their hearts. One such prophecy, primarily believed by the people of the Skanarri tribes, my people, is the SONUR FIMBLEVETURS, or the SON OF FIMBULWINTER in the common tongue. FIMBULWINTER FIMBULWINTER, or FIMBLEVETUR in the Skanarri and Old Norlandic tongues, is the event which precedes SONUR FIMBLEVETURS. Believed to have been detailed to the Skanarri prophet Fnodd by the All-Father himself, it is an event which signals the death of the world and the necessity to progress to new lands to signal the rebirth of the All-Father’s creations. The coming of Fimbulvetur shall be signaled first by a mighty red comet which soars above the skies in a time of faux peace, where the sentient peoples of the world reach a temporary peace amongst themselves for one reason or another. This comet is no blessing, nor a friendly entity. It is a sign of the hard times which are to come. In the continent of Aevos, this sign has been reported to have been spotted already. Thus, many in the north believe that Fimbulvetur is upon us already. Then, many moons after the first sighting of the Red Comet, a great cooling shall fall upon the world. The north shall become harsher in its temperature, leaving only the strongest of beasts and men to survive. Resources will become scarce, leaving the inhabitants of the world to begin to bicker for what remains. Starvation and distrust among tribes shall run rampant, and the faux peace shall begin to crumble. As the tribes of man begin to turn upon each other, a Great Foe shall emerge from the cracks of the world to spew forth its eternal hatred. These are the unworthy, the foes of the father, voidal worshippers and demons. The All-Father’s defenses against the Long Dark shall be damaged, allowing for such forces to spill into our world. It shall be the duty of the disparate tribes of mankind to unite to drive back the Long Dark from whence it came. Just as mankind once united against the Inferi of Arcas and the Mori of Nyrheim, they too shall unite against what the Long Dark may muster. Yet, such shall be overwhelming in its power. Soon shall the forces of righteousness be on the verge of defeat. SONUR FIMBLEVETURS So then shall the Son of Fimblewinter come, born in the year that the Red Comet soared high above the clouds. So shall he proclaim the righteousness of the All-Father’s cause and rally the disparate tribes to one banner for the great war against the Long Dark. For this task, he shall be visited by the All-Father’s servants from the Father’s Hall and bestowed the mighty sword of Sumarboði, the Bringer of Summer. The Sword shall dance with a mighty red-and-orange flame, melting away snow and inspiring the fire in the hearts of the faithful. Sonur Fimbleveturs shall take up the sword and make war to the Long Dark on the All-Father’s behalf as He works to bridge the gap in His frontier so no reinforcements may come. Then shall the forces of the good, the righteous, and the faithful surge forth, making war upon the chaos worshippers and followers of the Long Dark. Soon shall the great enemy be driven back into the cracks with which they came, yet they shall find no return to their dreaded realm. Thus all who follow the Long Dark shall be slain without reprieve or mercy, for none was offered to mankind in its darkest hour. Yet the war against the Long Dark shall be devastating, and the creations of the All-Father shall find no homes to return to. Homes shall be destroyed, cities leveled, and mountains reduced to craters. A costly victory shall be the one taken by the forces of good. Sonur Fimbleveturs will likewise meet his end in this war, for he shall die with sword in hand dealing the final blow to the great enemy after having led mankind to its victory. Thus, the time shall come for the creations of the All-Father to set sail from the realm of Aevos. Just as once our kind evacuated from Arcas, Nyrheim, and Failor, so too shall we evacuate from Aevos. Yet still, shall this prophecy repeat itself. For every realm the creations of the All-Father settle, so too will the Long Dark one day attempt to claim it for its own dark purposes. And so it shall be the duties of the Tribes of Mankind to unite once more, so the Long Dark may be vanquished again and again.

**** I GOTTA SPEEDRUN MY HOLY WAR AGAINST ELVES **** **** **** ****

THE CLAN OF MAK GRUGMAK, FATHER OF CLAN MAK THE CLAN OF MAK IS A NEWER TRIBE. Yet its members and their involvement in the history of the Horde dates back years. The Clan’s founder from whom all blood members descend is the late warrior and warboss known as Grugmak. Hailing from the northern tribe known as the Thaug’Maugrim, Grugmak’s reintroduction to the wider Orkish population came when the leader of the tribe, Skalvor, migrated back to the horde to become its Rex. Under the leadership of the new Thaug’Maugrim Rex, Grugmak would go on to participate in several guerrilla campaigns against the neighboring Kingdom of Hyspia and later the Vale of Nevaehlen. He would become one of the Horde’s warbosses, leading warbands of men into raids and obtaining loot and glory for the Horde. Carrying on the traditions of the Thaug’Maugrim, and wishing to create his own Clan, Grugmak would adopt and sire many children of his own. To them he would pass on lessons which they too would carry on into their own future. Chief among them being long pilgrimages into the north, the hunting of fearsome predators such as polar bears, the reverence of the spirit Mauloch, and living a semi-nomadic lifestyle at certain times of the year. Once Grugmak passed, the teachings were carried on by his children. His eldest son, Torosh’Mak, would initiate the creation of the Clan of Mak to honor his Father and heritage. Thus Mak was no longer a name, but an identity. A culture. A set of beliefs with which a select band of Uruks, Goblins, and Ologs chose to follow.

hey man, i've never been opposed to women coming with me to **** shit up. just ask the Skanarri

finally...the women may join us in our slaughter of elves...praise be to GOD...

[!] Copies of the missive are spread across the Empire of Man for all to read FROM THE MARGRAVIATE OF AVISTRA WHERE ARE MY MEN, LORD ROGER? Issued on the Seventeenth of the Deep Cold, in the year of our Lord, 2030 LORD ROGER OF DRUSCO, Some time has passed since your forces defeated mine in the Skirmish of Gottenthal, an honorable battle which your forces fairly won. In the aftermath captives were taken, which I personally ensured that I would pay ransom for as we previously agreed would be done for all captives before the war fully kicked off. Yet, many saint’s minutes have followed since the payment of this ransom, and my men have yet to appear. I had judged you to be a Lord of integrity and honor. Though our Houses are at odds, I had assumed you and your men would abide by the terms we agreed on and that the Emperor had approved. I myself have granted mercy to every prisoner that Avistra has taken, and have even released most without ransom being paid. I do this not out of weakness, but honor. I do not believe the smallfolk of this war should be treated unfairly, even if they are at times caught in the crossfire. Prisoners of War should especially be treated with honor and permitted to go home to their families should ransom be paid for them. Let it be said now - I will not complain of the defeat I have taken this day. We are one-for-one in that regard, and the victory you achieved was done by honorable means. All I ask now is to know the status of my men, and to hope that they have been released as per the ransom I had paid. Should I learn that my men have been slain unfairly and in violation of the agreement we had made, then I shall have no choice but to take further retaliatory acts both legally and upon the battlefield. I encourage you, Lord Roger, to ensure this war does not devolve into nothing more than sadistic killings. Signed, His Lordship, Ser Meili Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Baron of Wing’s Crest, Knight of Ivoria

FROM THE MARGRAVIATE OF AVISTRA FIRST BLOOD Issued on the Ninth of the Deep Cold, in the year of our Lord, 2030 GOOD PEOPLE OF AVISTRA, It has been said by our foes that Avistra stands no chance in this war. That we would be swept aside by the superior quality of Druscan soldiers. Our honor was insulted and accusations of cowardice stood - No longer. Today we, the people of Avistra, silenced the doubters. 900 men marched forth from the village of Wing’s Crest to assault the Druscan heartland itself. In the defense of the mighty keep stood 600 men, men who we assumed would pose a true challenge in trying to storm the castle. Caution was used in the beginning of the battle. Arrow-fire was exchanged between our horse archers and their own. After many saint’s minutes of back and forth skirmishing, the brave Avistran militiaman known as Bo the Barkeeper surged to the Druscan gate, meeting one of their men head on. This Druscan, it seems, stood little chance against the fury of the righteous farmer, as he was swiftly cut down in single combat by a Barkeeper. First blood was achieved in this war, and it belonged to Avistra. The time soon came to scale the walls, which the Druscans had kept low to the ground in their arrogance and sense of superiority. At our coming, the brave men of Drusco, of great quality and skill, fled into their tower to hide. Then another Druscan, who had grown overconfident and perhaps bored, sallied out to try and surprise us. He was met head-on by Alexander the Fisherman, who drove him back into the gatehouse and slew him head-to-head. Finally, at nearly a saint’s hour of fighting with not a single Avistran slain, yet another opening was pointed out in their interior defenses, this time by Peregrine Altwegg, son of the Margraves. A door had been left weakened, and so we exploited it. Once inside, little could be done to prevent our victory as we flooded into their castle and put the remaining defenders to the sword swiftly. Once victorious, we Avistrans gathered the loot of the dead and made off with our own, with not a single man of ours having lost their life to Druscan hands. The invincibility of Drusco has been shattered, and the resolve of Avistra proven. This war is far from over. FORWARD AVISTRA! Signed, His Lordship, Ser Meili Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Baron of Wing’s Crest, Knight of Ivoria Her Ladyship, Arya Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Baroness of Wing’s Crest

FROM THE MARGRAVIATE OF AVISTRA CALL TO ARMS Issued on the fifth of the Deep Cold, in the year of our Lord, 2030 GOOD PEOPLE OF AVISTRA, It has become apparent to the various inhabitants of our quaint village of WING’S CREST that, even in the wake of the rising Empire to whom we owe our fealty, peace is far-off. Many months ago, I received a face-to-face ultimatum from one Lord Roger of Bourdon, claiming that the lands I hold rightfully belong to the March of Drusco. He demanded that I and my family, as well as the many hardworking common-folk and serfs, either pack up our belongings or bend the knee to Drusco as our rightful liege-lords despite already being sworn to Ivoria. Such a move of aggression came as a shock to me and our people. What threat did we, a village of farmers, fishers, smiths, and herders, pose to the highly militarized Drusco who had plenty of other enemies to turn their ire to? It appears that we of Avistra are simply the targets of a bored and power-hungry vassal, but such does not deter us. I rejected Lord Roger’s terms then, and I continue to do so now. Drusco shall not have the fealty of Avistra, lest they earn it on the battlefield. Thus, I call all of the able-bodied citizens and serfs of Avistra to arms. Raise your spears, don your armor, and let us drive the Druscans away from our farming town. Muster within the village and prepare for war, for the Emperor has decreed this feud shall be settled by nothing less. And to the Druscans, who doubtless will try to spin your own tale of what rights you hold to this land, or try to slander me for not yet having met you in battle, hear me. I will not cower in my land. The Avistran Militia is assembling, and soon I shall ride to meet you in the field. FORWARD AVISTRA! Signed, His Lordship, Ser Meili Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Baron of Wing’s Crest, Knight of Ivoria Her Ladyship, Arya Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Baroness of Wing’s Crest

THE LAST ORK STANDING GRUGMAK WAS FAR PAST HIS PRIME. He had known this for years now. His days of glory ended with the Second Great Aevosi War. Though a decorated veteran and proven leader in his own right, Grugmak was not content to idle as he started to grow old. He continued to push his body to the limits, never denying himself the combat he constantly sought both in his youth and now older age. And so when the bells of Lurakhan rang, calling the warriors of the Horde to arms, Grugmak did not hesitate. He sprung from where he sat, grabbed his arms and armor, and joined with the forces of the Horde. Despite expecting nothing more than bloodthirsty bandits who knew nothing of proper war, what Grugmak and his comrades instead found was an army - disciplined, war-ready, and with no shortage of a desire for blood. The banners of Drusco flew high, and not long after the Horde’s arrival did battle commence. Grugmak’s comrades, many unprepared for the harshness of true battle, fell quickly. Picked off by the superior fighting strength of the Druscan men. One by one did they fall until Grugmak and whatever survivors remained fell back to the gates of nearby Lotharia. The Imperials pursued, cutting down who remained until Grugmak was able to turn about and shut the gate in the upper levels of Lotharia. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Grugmak noticed the Imperials beginning to withdraw from the City. Yet, Grugmak would not cower. He would not deny himself battle, so he drew forth his warbow and fired down upon the Imperials. Arrows were exchanged for many minutes until eventually one Druscan soldier came upon the gate, sword in hand. He challenged Grugmak to a duel, and the Orc, though tired and past his prime, would not refuse. The pair fought fiercely, trading blows with one another until eventually the Imperial found a weakness in Grugmak’s armor and exploited it. The Orc tumbled to the ground clutching his wound as his sword clanged down the steps away from him. The Imperial stood over him, sword high, waiting to deliver the killing blow. Grugmak shut his eye, muttered a prayer, and then once more looked to his soon-to-be killer. “Give mi a hozh flattin’, Emperiul.”

"AVE IMPERATOR!" Roared Ser Meili Altwegg, Margrave of Avistra, who immediately pledged his Loyalty to the new Empire!

can't wait for a random Aengul to smite me for accidentally staring at his/her pocket domain for too long

Eylumar and his 400 (4) kinsmen bore confused looks on their faces, having been prepared to die for the Silver State. He gave a shrug, decided that vassalization under Numendil wouldn't suffice, and took his kin to disappear into the woods to plot and plan once more.

FROM THE MARGRAVIATE OF AVISTRA DECREE OF THE COMMONS Issued on the ninth of Malin’s Welcome, in the year of our Lord, 2030 GOOD PEOPLE OF BURGUNDY, It has been some time since the Avistran village of WING’S CREST was established under the watchful eye of the HOUSE OF ALTWEGG. In this time, the village has established itself as a home of the common-folk, those willing to work the land in the services of their liege-lords. No laziness or privilege can be found within the lands of Avistra, nor can it be afforded. Therefore, a decision has been reached which will ensure the integrity and productivity of our fiefdom. Henceforth, only LOWBORNS, COMMONERS, and SMALLFOLK are permitted to reside within the village of Wing’s Crest and other holdings of Avistra. The only noble houses which may be permitted to find permanent residence within Avistra shall henceforth be the HOUSE OF KEEN, the HOUSE OF ALTWEGG, and the HOUSE VAN AERT. This decree is made to ensure that all citizens and residents of Avistra shall serve as productive members of the March who understand the integral nature of the feudal system which Avistra follows. Furthermore, to all those of lower stations who seek to find available housing, honest work, and fair tax, you are welcome within Avistra and Wing’s Crest. May GOD’s light guide your journey to your new beginning. Signed, His Lordship, Ser Meili Altwegg, Co-Margrave of Avistra, Knight of Ivoria

"LETS ******* GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" roared Trevaj War-lover at the sight of yet another war kicking off in Aevos! He moved to grab his best popcorn and prepared to travel south to watch the elf-on-elf violence.