“The only good dwarf is a dead dwarf.” -The Duke of Savoy to Emperor Robert I, circa 1466 “Midgor Ireheart, the Great Chieftain of the Urguanites, is dead, sire,” offered Lord Adrian of Rothesay from within the shadows of the Holy Orenian Emperor’s private study, his hands gently clasped onto the silver tip of his cane. “The reports say he choked to death on his own hemorrhaging blood.” “God’s will,” retorted Emperor John the First, taking a deep bite into the apricot he had before him, the stone fruit’s sweet juice running down his chin and into his expertly curled moustachios. He wiped his mouth with the starched white cloth adeptly provided by his personal chamberlain, Filipe. “That scullion Ireheart and his persistent banditry drove my capital into the ground. Without even a declaration of war, those nefarious people - if you can call them people - slew man, woman and child indiscriminately in the hopes that guerilla warfare would be our undoing.” “...Yet it was not; indeed, the Urguanite way of impertinence and deceit has gone on unpunished for far too long. Your Majesty, my agents have perused the candidates for the throne. They are but weaklings, catchpoles and pederasts, all of them,” retorted Edward, Marquis of Guise, the Emperor’s bastard brother. “In fact, the hierophant of their pagan cult, one Hogarth Irongut, happens to be the chief of these sodomitic pederasts, keeping elven eunuchs as lovers.” “What effrontery!” scoffed the sovereign of man in response as a knock resounded on the door to his office. The chamberlain opened it to reveal the figure of Henry of Rothesay, the Archchancellor’s younger brother and a promising fieldmarshal tested in warfare against the Fenlandic menace. The younger Rothesay doffed his helm and bowed low before the Emperor, “Your Imperial Majesty,” quickly passing his lips, “Our orcen allies are to march on Fenland within the Saint’s Week, with their dwarven protectors now impotent.” “What must I do?” asked the Emperor, his eyebrows raised slightly. “My emperor, we must put them to the sword,” offered Henry to the closed assembly, “And God in all his mercy will find a just reward. Whenever humanity shows the slightest hint of vulnerability, like the jackals they are, those dwarven degenerates pounce. All true Imperials must be as one and gather for this fight.” A dire ash cloud loomed overhead, and verily, the Emperor took it as a sign, and he spoke hither unto his council. “To forgive the Urguanites for their sins against our country may be God’s providence, but to send them to Him is mine. We must finish what Emperor Peter started, and revenge ourselves upon the barbaric dwarven aggressions against us, tenfold. Send the fleets to Erochland, take up our spears, take up our swords. We march from there, root them from their holes and kill them all.” _______________________________________ WARCLAIM DETAILS TYPE OF BATTLE: Skirmish TIME: Sunday the 6th of December, 10 PM GMT, 5 PM EST, 2 PM PST (Proposed) ATTACKERS: The Holy Orenian Empire and allied forces DEFENDERS: The Kingdom of Urguan and allied forces LOCATION: TERMS OF VICTORY: VICTORY FOR ATTACKERS- If all defending forces are routed or killed. VICTORY FOR DEFENDERS- If all attacking forces are either routed or killed. REWARDS: Oren victory: A temporary Oren region will be made to build a siege camp in front of the Dwarven capital city. Urguan victory: The area will be non-war claimable for a month. RULES: -No status switching. -No golden apples. -No altering of terrain or construction of new fortifications after this WC is posted. -All LOTC rules. -If the dwarves do not show to their side of the warclaim, they implicitly forfeit and Oren is allowed to determine the siege on a time of their preference.