Nectorist

Fr. Villorik, Perhaps you misunderstand me or I have made myself misunderstood. I desire no Empire because I suffer no kings. They are inclined towards the ill and care only about the dynasty. There is no room for faith in the domain of an all-powerful king, for to contend with any other influence undermines his unquestioned authority. Where you may see inspiration in the rallying cries for battle that the faith may provide, I see only cynical ploys. The present war would have happened with or without the Church, and its ends- for the coalition the destruction of Veletz, for Veletz the destruction of the coalition- are designed to meet political ends of the factions in charge, not see to any sort of spiritual welfare or wellbeing. The privilege of the kings to avoid faith cannot be understated. When they are strong, the Church is weak and bows to them. When they are weak, the Church is strong and dictates to them. The power of the kings must be brought to heel by the faithful people, those who demand their voices be heard and the interests of the Church be promoted in greater capacity, or else we will remain in chains. When the power of the kings lay in the vassals and subjects, they sought to act right in the light and interests of the Church, as it was necessary for their own aims. With the vassals dead, the surest vehicle of Church power lies in the people whom it has neglected for too long as it tries to play the game of the kings. Until that day comes, the kings will happily use faith when it furthers their ends, but they will never cede it any degree of authority that may undermine their own. The Church's role as a mediator must not necessarily mean that they play the role of the pacifist. They were an extremely active agent throughout the War of the Two Emperors and the Time of Troubles, but we would not claim that they did not weigh their fingers on the scales. However, it provided a vision of sorts that could guide the actions of the rest of humanity, and the Canonist Princes, in awe of the power and ability of the Pontiff, bowed to this. We have not seen such forward-thinking behavior from the Church in centuries, as it acts reactionary and not proactively. It does not mediate between factions, but it mediates the secular, political aims of those factions to produce a conclusion that is most beneficial for the Church. Veletz is a lost cause, certainly, but that does not prevent the Church from convening these Canonist powers and putting forth its own desires and interests to see that it may see some benefit from this war and construct the post-war order that will result from it. From Aevos, Acolyte Davide

Faith and the Age of Man A response to Friar Villorik, Father Alderic, Father Petyr, and others. @Xarkly @Crevel @MRCHENN ☩ ☩ ☩ As powerful as they were, Tobias and Aurelius could not destroy the power of the Church. Instead, that was done by Peter III and Heinrik II. The Schism War was fought in the name of the Church. For their victory, the names Emma Vladov, Andrik Vydra, Paul Sarkozic, and Olivier de Savoie, my ancestor, are enshrined in history. What history often forgets is that they did not do this by themselves. There were thousands of men and women who took up arms behind these petty kings and minor lords. While many have accused these leaders of using this war, and so the Church, as a method for their political advancement, it would not have been possible without the many who saw horror in a future where their faith was slain. Any political gain required the support of the Church, which itself required advancing the interests of the Church. When Tobias the Conqueror overthrew Philip I, the High Pontiff, and the Imperial order, it was the Church that unified the successor states and gave them a common forum of cooperation when acting against Courland. He could not enforce his will on these people, for he violated their Church and for that they would never be Courlanders. When Aurelius threw out the High Pontiff and tried to fashion himself as a God, his vassals steadfastly refused. Hardly a man, woman, or child across the Empire submitted to the will of the Pertinaxi in this case. It was through this deference to the Church, above all else, that they kept a candle of freedom alight, as it served as a point of unity between these disparate states against the strong hand of the Emperor. When it came time for Joseph Marna’s War, the Church was one of the primary unifying bodies, and while this coalition collapsed the faith did not go with it. To resist Renatus, the states of man needed to join together under the Church and find common cause in it. When the Pertinaxi fell, it was the High Pontiff who unified man again under Alexander II and was instrumental in rebuilding a government. Despite reservations from Adrian Sarkozy and Charles Alstion, they placed their faith in the designs of the High Pontiff and all others followed suit. The Empire that emerged was crafted in the vision of the High Pontiff and his Church, and it was clergymen and others who quickly filled the ranks of the government and influenced policy. There are many more examples, but we see three threads in these most famous ones: 1) the benefit of the Church came above secular political concerns and 2) the Church sought to unify man when possible and 3) for kings to maintain the loyalty of their vassals and people, they needed to support the Church. And for it, people kept their faith in the Church. Much work was done on the ground to instill this, as priests became commonplace in villages and courts across the world. Importantly, too, was the vibrant voice of the Church as it weighed in on matters of importance, whether internal debate on doctrine and scriptural interpretation, or on worldly affairs. Some of the greatest minds known to man were closely tied to the Church, whether as clergy or most devout laity. The voice of the Church was not lent lightly, thus when it did speak all obeyed, for it was a body that remained ever-present in the lives of all and within intellectual spheres that advised policy. However, with the Age of Man came the emphasis on reason, centralization, urbanization, and nationalism. No longer wishing to make loyalty between subject and master a matter of contract, Oren and Haense saw loyalty as a necessary prerequisite towards citizenship. An Orenian was defined as a man loyal to the Emperor because he was Orenian. A Haeseni was defined as a man loyal to the King of Haense because he was a Haeseni. The nation came before all, and that soon included the Church. In this new age, it was not faith that unified a divided man, but the concept of the nation that unified those within designated divisions. Fearful of being displaced entirely, the Church sought to cling on to the highest power it could. Instead of directing the policy of the states it claimed spiritual dominion over, it turned to supporting the political agendas of these states so that it would not be displaced. Instead of being forward-facing in public life, yet muted in secular politics, it did the opposite. This change in focus alienated much of the faithful who saw the clergy as reclusive and unconcerned with affairs on the ground. James II did this when he ordered the Princess of Rubern to swear fealty to the Empire to atone for her father’s sins. This had little to do with any true matter of faith- vassalage does not cleanse the soul- but it was a desire of Peter III and so it was done. It was needless and he should have done as Everard VI did with the Adrian secessionists during the reign of Philip II: not interfere in political disputes. When Owyn III failed to sufficiently appease any one state, he was overthrown by them all. No repercussions came to Oren and Haense, who slew him and dozens of clergymen. Jude II acted well, serving as a voice of mediation between Haense and Oren and exerted his will over Joseph II during the Sedan Rebellion to ensure it did not turn indecent. Everard VI nearly recaptured the primacy of the Church when he successfully excommunicated Philip III and Anastasia, which incited riots against them and forced them to drop their ambitions and bow to him. This advantage was thrown away with the second excommunication, which was used for propaganda and alienated him from the rest of Oren. The course of the Sinner’s War, ostensibly fought to remove the Anathema, was instead fought to conquer lands for the dwarves and ended with neither Oren’s return to the Church nor the deposition of Philip III. The political calculus of the factions involved did not even consider the Church in the Peace of Eastfleet. When Heinrik Sarkozic submitted to Pontian IV during the Adrian Rebellion, in hopes of atoning for his sins and rejoining the Church, he was instead sentenced to death. Instead of forgiving him and dictating his next conduct, he instead allowed the Duke of Adria and his fellow Adrians, none of them excommunicated, to be beset within the confines of the Church. This forever hardened the hearts of the Adrians against him and ensured that none would ever entrust themselves to the Church in the event that they desired to see their excommunication lifted. In this present war, only Numendil and Aaun have cited the faith and Gaspard van Aert’s excommunication as the defining reason why they have taken arms against Veletz. To the rest of the coalition, the Church is again an afterthought. If Gaspard was to surrender his arms, and a man untainted by any removal from the Church took his place, this war would not end. Cries of “Anathema” ring loudly but hollowly because this war is solely fought to determine the future of the Heartlands. One must also note that in the cases of Philip III and Anastasia, Heinrik Sarkozic, and Gaspard van Aert, all four deserved their excommunications. However, the act of excommunication affected all of them very little. Their internal support did not diminish, their fates were not dictated by their relationship with the Church, and their enemies did not pursue the interests of the Church. For its part, the Church rarely has acted as a body of mediation recently. It has reduced itself to a branch of foreign policy for the most dominant friendly power, be it Oren or Haense, without regard for even its own interests. This is the direct consequence of the Age of Man and the philosophies that have followed. Kings rule with strong fists and demand unyielding, unconditional loyalty from their subjects. There is no higher power than the monarch who acts only in the interest of the nation. The only institutions that can be trusted are those of the nation. The only brothers and sisters that exist are those who come from the nation. The suppression of the Pontiff’s power over the king is intentional and has been undertaken by all states except Numendil and Aaun, but that does not mean that the Church has been woefully inept at adapting to the new realities of man. What can be done? Firstly, the Church must open itself to debate and intellectual discussion. There must be the freedom to suggest reform and reinterpretation, then there must be the will to implement those that are commonly accepted. Intellectuals have been pushed from the Church, which does not embrace critique. In turn, these intellectuals find service in the courts of kings, where they write histories of the nation, justifications for each action of the king, and manifestos on the inalienable power of the king. Men and women of this character ought to also find a cause in the clergy. Secondly, the Church must be proactive in all matters where Canondom may go to war. This present war could be seen years in advance, yet no action was taken by the Church to ensure that peace could be negotiated. Even now, the High Pontiff has not outlined his interests for Veletz and the people within. Does he wish for Gaspard to abdicate and repent? Does he wish them all dead? Does he wish all of Veletz dead? Where is an outline for peace, or at least an outline for what ought to be done after the war? Just as Daniel II crafted the post-Pertinaxi order of man, Sixtus VI must craft the post-Veletz order of man. He must design the humanity that he wishes to see rise from the ashes of this war and make it known that he will accept no other. The interests of the Church must be plainly stated and advanced through this war. Thirdly, the Church must encourage its clergy and agents to take places of power and authority so that they may represent it in political affairs and argue for its interests within the nation. They must be active in their local communities and attend to both spiritual and secular needs, striking a balance that makes them valued and necessary. They must also be firm and correct the ills of their flock, for we have seen that the king is unable to do so. Members of the Church must be seen as ever-present and ever-helpful, but the Church itself must not act as a branch of government. This trust must be put into its trained and competent clergy and faithful laity. Fourthly, the Church must realize that we live in a different era, one that has not yet broken from the Age of Man. Loyalty is not owed to lord, Church, family, and king, it is now owed only to the king and his nation. Service to God is not the end of all actions undertaken in the name of the faith, but rather the political gain of the state. Culture has been stripped bare of anything that may contradict the will of the king, including deference towards the Church. The king does not need to do anything for the Church because the Church cannot do anything for or against him. Perhaps time has passed and nothing can be done. Davide of Furnestock

Knox MacPherson sees opportunity. With greed in his eyes he prepares to go.

Wonderful.

While retreating from Brasca, Johanes comes across a paper golden crown labeled 'Burger King'. He flips it open and finds a slew of numbers and coordinates and plotted points. "What the...?"

Johanes reads over the death rolls from the Siege of Brasca and wishes that his son's name could be traded with his own. Gustaf had done everything asked for from a van Aert. Brave, bold, and competent in leadership. It was a bitter solace to the elder father that his son's death had been honorable, but he could at least cling to that as he grieved. "Only the good die young." That was a sentiment said a thousand times over. But to a father who now came to experience it firsthand, it was one of the most horrifying realities he faced.

The Cannons of Brasca ☩ ☩ ☩ "Mark…- LEFT- Thirty-three degrees. Aim it down- DOWN TWO. READY…. FIRE!” The thunder of Johanes’s cannon roared as it shot down onto the enemy battery below. Flags bearing a white star or a black stallion beneath a crossed sword and scepter fluttered. The wind that day was heavy, especially atop the heights of Brasca, but it could have just as well been the return-fire that caused them to blow like that. "Roll back! Cool…. Load! Roll up!” As his team set to work, the ageing knight took a moment to open his canteen and take a healthy drink from it. It had been hours. He could not remember the last time he felt the cool run of water trickle down his parched throat. He had to temper his thirst, though, for he did not know when it would be refilled next. "Spotter! Give me the new coordinates!” The boy he looked up to was young, as young as he had been during his first war. Some forty years ago, but he could remember it as vividly as anything. The siege suited him better today than the field did then. An uneasy peace had reigned since his own war, bringing an end to his usefulness, and that was perhaps why his skills, left to rust with time, were not needed in any great capacity now. At least he had his own cannon this time. "Thank you. You heard him, men! Left-Thirty-seven degrees. Up now. UP FOUR. READY…. FIRE!” Another blast rung out. With each shot, and there had been many, his senses dulled more and more. He did not mind it. The soft thuds of the shots ringing out across the field made for a nice backdrop to a beautiful afternoon. Not a cloud in the sky. A bright sun shone. If he had picked a happier way in life, he, Mariya, and the children would be picnicking now. "HIT- well done, my sons! Roll it back and cool it!” Still, a soldier’s heart can only subside. It jumped again as he looked down to see the smoking remains of an enemy battery. That made two on the day for Johanes and his men, who listened well despite their inexperience, and they’d not received any fire themselves. On any other day it might have been enough, maybe it would have been at Breakwater, but as the mass of enemy soldiers formed into ranks at the gates of their camps, the old knight accepted that the fate of this siege was out of his hands. "Roll up. Keep focus on their own cannons. We’ll be told when we need to pull back. For now, we duel. Left-forty. Left-forty. All else the same.” He did not even need the spotter now. His eyes, accustomed to the smiling faces of his family, the papers he read late into the night for King Edmund, the wide plains below the heights of Winburgh, now adjusted again to the sight of war. His first time firing a cannon was soon after he had become Duke of Adria. It was a small bombardment against Minitz, nothing great, but with it was his first taste in the siege. He loved it then and now. "Ready…. Fire!” It was a close miss, taking down a couple of gunners, but no direct hit. It was a shame. That was his last shot, and he’d hoped for it to be a hit. All said, it was a good day of cannonry, and that would have made it the best. Better not complain, they could have been the men at the earthworks getting blasted with the worst of the coalition’s artillery. "Disperse yourselves among the battery and join any crew that needs the help. Well-shot today, gentlemen.” Salutes were exchanged and the men left him at the empty cannon as he still looked out over the field. The front of Brasca had been dealt enough damage, even as nearly all of their artillery had been wiped out. If he lived to see the day, perhaps he would write another treatise on siege warfare. That was if. "The charge is coming, men. We’ve got orders from Sir Gustaf- DOWN TO THE MAIN HALL. NOW!” Another man’s voice with his son’s words. With Gaspard recovering from his wounds at Breakwater, it had fallen to Johanes’s son to take command of the defense. Although Johanes himself was not at the planning, he had heard good things from it. Gustaf was a natural leader, possessed a brilliant mind for warfare, and was as sure and brave a fighter as any. In that, he had surpassed most of the van Aerts already. If the world were fairer, his future would be the brightest in all of Aevos. As Johanes rose to his feet, following after all the others swarming down into the depths of the keep, he thought again of Rolly’s Hill, the place where he had first tasted combat. He remembered the cries of victory from the Adrians. More vividly, he remembered his fear, his despair, his confusion. Battle raged around and at some point he lay on the ground a broken, bloody mess condemned to die. He could taste the iron of his blood as it seeped into his mouth, or feel the phantom arm that had been robbed from him. He had lain there for two days, fated to die. It was a farmer who had saved him, but for the price of life he had been robbed of his hopeful delusions. The world was not fair. It wasn’t fair for him, nor would it be fair for Gustaf. They may not have chosen their bed, but they helped make it. The sound of cannonfire was beginning to be replaced by cheers and barking orders- now the time to lie in it had come. A brief reprieve came over Johanes as the loudest sounds of siege dulled. For a brief moment there was enough quiet to hear the rush of the wind. His old memories were like dreams- perhaps half true and difficult to remember- but he could recall a similar sort of day with his aunt Wilhemina. He enjoyed it, riding through the Petra as the two of them chatted and joked. What he would not give for a day like that again. Or perhaps when he and Mariya, still children, rode side-by-side to Alikos's Keep, where there would be a number of odd men and women, but all of them friends. It was always those simple joys that came to mind at times like these. The world was not fair, but at least there was some good that it had brought him. As the cannons of Brasca gave their final shots, Johanes van Aert drew his mace and began the long walk down into what could be his crypt. Victory and defeat had treated him much the same. The honor of the battle was what he fought for now; that was the one thing that had yet to fail him.

A return letter arrives at 703 Cornelia Street a fortnight after. The young deliveryman begs incessantly for extra coin, citing the hassle it had been to track down the elusive Count of Basrid in the first place. "Dear Mr. Horace Napier, I am sorry to say that my friend and colleague, Lord Basrid, is presently indisposed and unable to write back. Because we live on the same street, I am entrusted with answering some of his mail when he is away, which I shall do now. My colleague and I thank you for your words, reflecting the true scholar's spirit more than any uncritical adulation would. The work of history is a difficult one, fraught with conflicting sources and viewpoints, and creating these broad, grand narratives is intensive on both our time and resources. As family men, we are frequently in short supply of both. Thankfully, residing in Valdev has its advantages. The Haeseni archives are among the most well-maintained and undisturbed, allowing us access to materials that are difficult to come by elsewhere. The Church archives are perhaps the only that surpass them, even if they must be used with extreme caution. There are some works from Aaun, mostly literary and oral tradition, that cover the late Mardon Empire, and the van Aert family has an extensive record of Pertinaxi-era military documents. Of course, the present war makes the latter two difficult to access. Oral tradition survives, though, and much of the official records of the Pertinaxi governments survive, though they are scattered throughout Balian, Petra, Haense, and Aaun, so while our research into the period is still ongoing, we are assured that there is enough material to build a comprehensive tale. As this first volume has mostly covered Aurelius's early life, intertwined with the fate of the Sixth Empire, we have not built out our bibliography of specifically Pertinaxi-era sources. It may very well be that when we begin the Annals of Mardon, to commence after the Historia Pertinaxi is finished, much of these sources will appear the same. This means that many of the sources we are using to build our next few volumes are currently being tested and weighted more critically now that the writing phase has begun. When some of these volumes release, I will have my granddaughter mail you a list of our sources. For now, here is a non-exhaustive list of some of the documents, writings, etc, that we have used in consultation with our other sources to write this initial volume. IMPORTANT HISTORIES PRIMARY SOURCES My Best Regards, Adolphus Gloriana"

THE HISTORIA PERTINAXI: Introduction & Volume I; The Rise of Canonius Written by Justinian Nafis, Count of Susa and Adolphus Gloriana, Earl of Suffolk, Prince of Sutica Introduction "Some will call it cruel. Others will call it just. Both are wrong. It is simply reality; humanity must be governed through force or be left in their primitive state.” - Emperor Aurelius after the Sack of Nordengrad The name Renatus is one of the most feared, despised, yet also respected in all of human history. Although its origins lay in the foundational years of humanity’s distant past, many tend to associate its name with the Pertinaxi Dynasty, which definitively ruled over the realms of man from 1678-1725. This period, generally associated with brutality, crude governance, hyper-authoritarianism, arbitrary rule, and the oppression of the other realms of man was derided by many scholars and statesmen after its end. The descriptors ‘Renatian’ and ‘Pertinaxi’, once synonymous with the glory of Imperial conquest and power, were reduced to pejoratives in the early Petrine Empire to refer to someone with supposed authoritarian leanings and quickly caught on in places such as Haense and Norland. However, a closer examination of the Pertinaxi Dynasty shows a far more nuanced picture. While cruel suppression was often a means of dealing with subjects, it was often done to enforce internal control of the Empire. Although the instruments of government were poorly-refined and centered around the personage of the Emperor, they sufficed when it came to defending the state, which triumphed in all wars save the final one that brought about its downfall. Even though the rule of law was at best nonexistent and at worst a weapon of Imperial generals and prefects, the constituent parts of the Empire flourished (when themselves not under direct assault from the Heartlands). Many scholars have tried to explain the dominance of the Pertinaxi Dynasty through a number of theories, ranging from the overly-critical (Petrine-era characterization of the Empire of Man as simply a tribal horde only able to master warfare) to the overly-generous (more contemporary beliefs, no doubt born in light of the presently-divided humanity, that the Renatian State was the desirable end for man to reach). However, most scholarship around the period focuses on the later reign of Aurelius, then skips to Antonius and ends through John VII. In part due to the paucity of sources, few venture to examine the overlooked, yet crucial periods of Aurelius’s early life and the reign of Augustus. This series will seek to fill in those gaps and examine the Pertinaxi Dynasty and the state it created from the reign of Aurelius through the deposition and assassination of Antonius. In doing so, these authors hope to answer two questions: How was a young Canonius Horen, beginning with a small host of three hundred soldiers, able to form one of the greatest Empires history has seen? And why did the Empire of Man decline so rapidly after him? Our previous work, The Decline and Fall of the Holy Orenian Empire, was a study of ideology and how it drives the process of constructing, then deconstructing, a state through a battle of competing visions. The Petrine Empire provided a perfect model for examination, as laissez-faire, council-centric reigns of Alexander II and Adrian Sarkozy gave way to the centralized, liberal philosophy of the Petrine Emperors, which was swiftly undone by Philip III and Anastasia’s populist, hybrid model of government, which itself preceded Frederick I’s reactionary return to more traditional, feudal governance dominated by personal ties to various factions. This work will not be a story of the competition of ideology and how it drove, and later undid, an Empire. Instead, the Historia Pertinaxi will be an examination of power. How may it be used to the benefit of a Dynasty-State? How can it be wrought from little, yet lost from a position of great advantage? Does the power of a state exist independent of those who rule it, or must the idiosyncrasies of its leaders be factored when ascertaining its strength? How are institutions developed to cement the power of a state? These authors aim to investigate these questions, and more, in our study of the three monarchs of the Empire of Man. The Rise of Canonius "The world has not seen strength since John Owyn. It is our duty, granted to us by God, that we piece together this fractured race.” - Arpad Ivanovich to Canonius Horen before their march on Adelburg The origin of Canonius Horen, who would later come to be known as Aurelius, has been shrouded by myths born from superstitious peasantry and propaganda issued by the various Pertinaxi Emperors. Were an aspiring scholar to believe these tales wholeheartedly, they would come away with a story of Canonius Horen emerging from the sea while riding a chariot in order to knock down the gates of Adelburg with his two closest companions and depose the decadent and corrupt Mardon Emperors. Not a thought would be given to the man’s father and mother, nor what happened before he turned thirty five, nor why he wished to depose the boy-Emperor John VI at all. The true beginning of the man who would one day come to rule most of Atlas lay in the small town of Doggersden on the island of Tahn. While records are scant, given the low literacy rate in the town, accounts from foreign visitors paint a clearer picture of the homeland of Canonius Horen. During a visit in 1617, a retainer in the employment of a Lotharingian ambassador writes: "Although it was the capital of the Principality of Skravia and the seat of the roguish, yet fearsome House of Romstun, what I came across was little more than a backwater village out of time. Ramshackle wooden huts lay strewn about with no thought given for planning. The masses donned plain, woolen clothing. Chickens, goats, cows, and other livestock roamed freely through the streets. Overlooking the town, albeit laying on the same flat plain, was a monstrosity of a keep, doubtless made only with the designs of cruel practicality with little thought given to civility or Divine inspiration.” Another account, written by a merchant from the Dominion of Malin in 1620, recalls the character of the inhabitants of Doggersden: "I had been told all my life that the Romstuns and their subjects were upjumped bandits. The territory they resided on now was land stolen from Lorraine at the behest of the late Emperor John V as part of some greater peace accord. When I met them, they proved to be a blunt and inhospitable, though thankfully fair, sort. They did not try to haggle over the prices of my wares, nor would they hear any pitch I had prepared for them. They would pay the price they thought worthy or not spend a single coin. Although the town hardly sported a friendly face I now consider returning, for it appears, perhaps through ill-gotten means, that many of the inhabitants have coin that their squalor would suggest they do not possess.” Born in this small town on the western edges of the Kingdom of Lotharingia (later the Archduchy of Lorraine) in the year 1603, Canonius Horen was not raised in the glorious courts of Aeldin, nor brought to Axios by a large foreign army. Instead, he grew up among cunning mercenaries, ruthless brigands, and rugged peasants. His father, Carolus Horen, was a grandson of Pertinax Horen, the eldest son of the Exalted Godfrey, yet not the successor of his Empire, while his mother, Larissa Romstun, was a distant cousin of Leitsieg Romstun, a senior member of the powerful House Romstun. With his father constantly searching employment in the courts of foreign kings, where he could apply his training in law, the young Canonius’s training and education were left to his mother and her relatives. At the time of Canonius’s birth, the powerful Johannian Empire, once the most dominant and storied country the world had ever seen, had fallen. The Kingdom of Courland under Tobias the Conqueror now reigned supreme over the realms of man and had systematically begun its infamous series of campaigns. Lotharingia was absorbed in 1594. Next came the Imperial Crownlands in 1595 after the destruction of Johannesburg. The conquest of Haense followed in 1604, and the effective subjugation of the Kingdom of Mardon in 1607 rounded out the series of Courlandic conquests. By 1608, only the Kingdom of the Westerlands remained as the final bastion of the old Johannian Empire. With the Courlandic conquests came anarchy and lawlessness. Cities that had once supported robust civic life and bustling populations sat empty. Bandits and marauders freely prowled the roads of Axios, for the great host of Tobias Staunton was deployed only in times of open war. Brutal civil conflict broke out in those kingdoms which had fallen under Courland’s banner, as power vacuums emerged that allowed both large factional rivalries and petty feuds to answer their tensions through violence. The fall of the Johannians had brought an era of instability and fracturing. As trade broke down and humanity further splintered, the people of the disunited kingdoms cried out for a ruler who could protect them. However, in this era of war and political breakdown, the House Romstun saw opportunity. Being a family of martial persuasion (more crassly called soldiers of coin or bandits by their detractors), the Romstuns surveyed the scene and saw their ticket for ascension. Petty vassals of the Lotharigian kings, situated on the western edges of the kingdom, the Romstuns sat in an advantageous position, as the Kingdom of Lotharingia had neither the local control nor the manpower to reign in their ambitions. Over the years, the Romstun family slowly expanded their domains through brief, decisive wars against neighboring vassals. Eventually, they grew powerful enough to challenge King Hughes d’Amaury by 1609, but a Courlandic contingent sent to protect Metz, the seat of House d’Amaury, prevented any further advances. The nature of Canonius’s upbringing and education during these years is unclear, as records from the period are scant. It can be assumed that he served as a page, and later a squire, for Leitsieg Romstun, and later became a knight in his retinue. Under Leitsieg’s tutelage he would have been trained in the arts of warfare, strategy, and political intrigue, He seemed to possess at least a rudimentary understanding of letters, though he was no great writer himself and preferred to articulate his thoughts to a scribe during his rule, and he grasped many of the more nuanced and complex aspects of the Canonist faith, suggesting a natural aptitude cultivated by excellent teaching. The death of Tobias Staunton in 1608 broke whatever political order might have existed across Axios. His son and successor, King Joseph, possessed neither his father’s charisma nor his aptitude for command. Within two years, the subjugated crowns beneath the Courlandic Hegemony began to plan the overthrow of the Stauntons. The first stone to fall came in 1611 with the Greyspine Rebellion, where the Haeseni lords, led by Harren var Ruthern, rose up against King Joseph’s local administrators. In 1612, in the Second Battle of the Rothswood, the army of the Governor of Haense, Franz Kovachev, was destroyed by a smaller Haeseni force. This victory won Haense’s independence, whereupon they invited Stephen Barbanov to take the throne later that year. Haense’s victory caused a rippling effect throughout the rest of humanity. In 1613, the lords of the Crownlands began to attack local Courlandic garrisons, also forcing their retreat. Later that year, Mardon ceased its tribute payments. Come the spring of 1614, only the Kingdom of Lotharingia remained nominally loyal, although by now many within the court of Hughes d’Amaury had their doubts about their hegemon’s survival. As a result of the multitude of rebellions springing up across his realm, King Joseph was forced to recall his garrison from Metz, which left the city and surrounding countryside wide open to House Romstun. Leitsieg Romstun did not waste the opportunity and immediately continued his advance towards the Lothairingian capital. It is at this point, in the spring of 1614, that the Holy Orenian Empire was formally restored. Assailed from the west by the Romstuns, King Hughes offered to swear fealty to John Frederick Horen, the eldest son of the late Emperor Philip I, in exchange for the latter’s aid against the Skravian invaders. Although John Frederick possessed only a small retinue of his own, and had no considerable military or political experience to speak of, in this moment of desperation it was widely-believed that a Johannian was needed to reunite the realms of man and bring about stability to the realm once again. King Peter of Mardon, John Frederick’s younger brother, along with the lords of the Crownlands, promised to join the new Empire and pledge themselves to the defense of Lotharingia. Thus, on the 14th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1614, John Frederick was proclaimed Emperor John V in the court of Auguston, the capital of Mardon and personal property of King Peter, to rapturous applause. A week later, he set out with a small host to deal with the Romstun threat. The Coronation of Emperor John V at Auguston, c. 1614. While many had high hopes for the newly-restored Oren under the successors of the Johannians, the Mardon Empire soon proved to be weak, corrupt, and decadent. The coming campaign, brief as it was, was Canonius’s first experience in combat. Serving as a squire to Leitsieg Romstun, the young Horen watched as the wily commander defeated John V and his army in a lightning campaign. While Canonius’s own contributions are unknown, and are likely to have been limited, it is worth noting his first time seeing the field of battle. While he would never earn fame as a soldier during his life, nor even as a battlefield tactician, learning from the strategically gifted Leitsieg was no doubt of great benefit to the boy. By the spring of 1615, the Imperial host had been routed and the Romstuns were poised to seize Metz. John V’s saving grace came when King Stephen I of Haense and Prince Henry of Evereux (the successor state of the Kingdom of Courland) also pledged to join the fledgling, struggling Empire. With additional soldiers being sent from the Crownlands and Mardon, the Romstuns knew that their chances of obtaining a favorable peace would dwindle the longer the war went on. On the 16th of Harren’s Folly, 1615, the Lotharingia-Romstun Concord was signed, which formally ceded all of western Lorraine to House Romstun, but also vassalized the Principality of Skravia. Fearing the prowess of the Romstuns, yet also wishing to bolster his own forces, John V readily accepted them into the Imperial fold, though not before tacitly allowing them to flay King Hughes alive. It was during this time that Canonius began to be formally introduced to Imperial customs and court life. His father, Carolus, finally found employment in the Imperial bureaucracy as a land surveyor. With his income, he was able to bring his wife and son along with him as he traveled around the Empire performing his work. Although his paltry salary did not allow the elder Horen to afford much of an education for his son, Carolus’s frequent travels allowed the young Canonius to see the breadth of the realms of humanity. From Haense in the cold north, to Evereux in the warm south, from the Crownlands dotted by feudal manors and keeps to the urbanized Lorraine, Canonius saw it all and learned of the peoples and customs of these diverse and disparate lands. The future Emperor’s travels around the Mardon Empire ended in 1617 with the start of the Santegian Rebellion. As House Romstun was called to join John V’s march against the rebellious Duchy of Savinia, Canonius was also ordered to join his liege and resume his duties as a squire. Unfortunately for the two, the Emperor’s poor strategic mind once again plagued his response to a crisis that threatened his realm. The expedition was ill-equipped and slow to set out, which gave crucial time for a coalition of dwarves, Norlanders, and orcs to reinforce Savinia. When the Emperor’s army finally arrived in the friendly city of Trier in 1618, they set out on a slow, laborious march towards the town of Castell, the capital of the Duchy of Savinia. Although the following Battle of Castell is notoriously poorly-recorded, what is known is that it was a shattering defeat for the Imperial army. Forced to retreat to Trier, the Emperor and his paltry force chose to hole up in the city and prepare for a siege. The role of Canonius in this campaign is also little-attested, although the sparse accounts present suggest that the Battle of Castell was the first true combat he participated in. It is unknown whether or not he distinguished himself, but it is clear neither he nor Leitsieg Romstun were blamed for the disaster. Never the most loyal vassal to John V, the old Romstun and his host quickly departed Asul and returned to Doggersden. It was a fortunate decision, for the ensuing Siege of Trier in 1619 would claim the life of the Emperor and the whole of his army of two thousand. After this defeat, all Imperial holdings on the island of Asul were swiftly conquered by the Duchy of Savinia, which soon after proclaimed itself the Kingdom of Santegia. The disaster of the Santegian Rebellion shook the Empire. A brief power struggle for succession ensued, with the late Emperor’s brother, Peter Sigismund, King of Mardon, emerging triumphant in 1619 as Emperor Peter II. The ensuing four years were spent trying to administratively reorganize the Empire and recreate its destroyed army in the aftermath of the war, two daunting tasks that neither Peter II nor his government were prepared for. In 1621, Canonius was knighted by Leitsieg Romstun and brought into the general’s inner circle. Although he was no great warrior, nor would he ever be, he was at least competent at arms and possessed some ability for command and leadership. His keen analytical mind, sound sense of strategy, and wise judgment was what made him a valuable asset for House Romstun. A carpenter in the service of House Romstun relayed an account to the cousin of a Lorrainian chronicler, who wrote down the following tale: While conducting a census of the taxable properties within Doggersden, Canonius Horen came across a hut that was claimed by two different women as their property. Unable to find any land deed or writ of purchase, the young knight offered a compromise: he would saw the wooden hut in two and allocate one half to both women. The first woman readily accepted the offer and handed Canonius a saw of her own. The second wept and pleaded that her home not be damaged, offering to move out so that it may be spared. Taking both women’s reactions into consideration, the young knight decided to burn down the hut and construct a new armory there, for it would provide a greater benefit to the whole of the town. This story demonstrates the logical framework that Canonius would operate under his whole life. To him, justice was only dispensed when benefit was brought to the wider whole, rather than simply its individual parts. Where there were advances to be made, there was a policy for the young knight to support. While he gained a reputation for his ruthless, unyielding judgements, he also saw Doggersden grow in power and wealth. 1623 proved to be a year of significant change for Canonius. In the spring of that year, his father was killed in the recently-built capital of Adelburg. His death proved to be a turning point in the life of Canonius and was an important event that changed the trajectory of the Mardon Empire itself. The first, coming from official Pertinaxi propaganda published during the reign of Aurelius, states that Carolus Horen was a member of a republican dissident faction within the capital, where he had found employment as a tax official. When the plot among he and his conspirators was found, they were all sentenced to death for treason and hanged within the square. The second, relayed from the guard captain of Adelburg, a Lorrainian named Gabaston, says that Carolus was implicated in a plot to advance his own claim upon the Imperial throne. When questioned, an associate falsely claimed that it was a plot to establish a republic, possibly in the hopes of receiving a lighter sentence. Regardless, the truth was uncovered and all of the conspirators were beheaded in the square of the capital. The third and final account, first put forth by Reinhard von Schlitterbahn, an owner of several taverns within Adelburg, claims that Carolus was visiting a lover (later accounts would allege this individual to be a dwarf) when several colleagues of his also entered the establishment. In his haste to not be seen and humiliated, Carolus jumped out the window within his room. However, he misjudged his ability to fall with grace and ended up breaking his neck upon the ground. It was at that time that a cart was being trotted down the streets, which ended up decapitating him. Whatever the true story was, the Romstuns certainly believed that Carolus’s death was no accident. Within a fortnight, a gang of Romstuns and their affiliates marched into the capital and surrounded the Archchancellor and brother of the Emperor, Prince Philip Owyn. Too terrified to act, Peter II watched helplessly as his brother and his entourage were flayed alive on the streets of the city. The flaying of Prince Philip Owyn was one of the most notorious acts of the time. It both foreshadowed the brutal violence that would mark the 17th century and defined the inability to restore law and order during the rule of the Mardon Emperors. While the Emperor may not have acted to save his brother, he certainly sought to avenge him. An Imperial Ban was placed upon Deano Romstun, the Prince of Skravia, and the lands of House Romstun were declared forfeit. He executed his estranged Empress, Zoey Romstun, herself the daughter of Prince Deano, and ordered the banners of the Empire to be assembled. A great host flocked to Adelburg, for the many vassals of the Empire were eager to dispatch House Romstun which had struck fear in them all for years. In the ensuing conflict, known as Prince Philip’s War, Canonius Horen would prove his aptitude for warfare, even if the cause he fought for would ultimately be lost. As the resources of House Romstun were spread thin, and Canonius was a young, mostly unproven officer, he was assigned a small force of ten knights and ninety footmen with which he was to harass the Imperial supply lines. Official commendations from Leitsieg Romstun prove the success of the young knight’s mission, and he was reported to have slowed the contingent from the Kingdom of Mardon, itself ten times larger than his own host, preventing them from coalescing with the wider Imperial army during their march on the lands of House Romstun. Despite his own success, Canonius’s efforts made little impact on the wider war effort. The Imperial general, Owein aep Cynan, the Commander of the Nauzica Brigade, was a well-regarded strategist and tactician, certainly the only one in the Mardon Empire. Within a matter of months, he was able to use the overwhelming strength of the Imperial host to overrun the lands of the Romstuns, who were too few in number to give battle or properly garrison their castles. While frequent raids and skirmishes generally favored the Skravians, they were not nearly decisive enough to turn the tide of the war. By 1624 their lands had been wholly conquered and were returned to the Archduke of Lorraine. Although he had been a captain for the Romstuns and was a protege of their notorious Leitsieg, Canonius was quickly restored to the Imperial graces. The reasons for this are not specifically known, but it can be assumed that given the short supply of capable officers, the promising young Horen was offered a place in the Emperor’s army in exchange for a pardon. Imperial army payment rolls in 1625 confirm this, where Canonius Horen is listed as receiving salary for a general’s commission. Little is known of the following twelve years of Canonius’s life; he all but vanishes from contemporary sources. What can be pieced together is that he was given a small detachment of Imperial soldiers to guard the western reaches of the Imperial Crownlands. In a region considered to be fiercely loyal to the Imperial Crown, and seeing little conflict or strife, it can be surmised that the general’s station was designed to keep him far from the capital, surrounded by Imperial loyalists, and removed from his Romstun allies. Despite this, it is known that Arpad Ivanovich, a friend of Canonius and fellow knight that had served under the Romstuns, joined the Horen’s host. Arpad himself possessed a far more fearsome reputation as a warrior and battlefield commander, and it was said that during Prince Philip’s War he had nearly defeated a Haeseni army thrice the size of his own force. Another event of note was his marriage to his distant cousin, Theodosia Horen, in 1635. As the only child of one of the Empire’s more significant landowners. Coming into her father’s inheritance ten years earlier, the young Theodosia became one of the most desired women in the Empire. However, being quite distantly removed from the main Horenic line, finding a husband who would accept her lower station, yet also provide her some access to the noble circles of the Empire, was difficult. Aurelius, a young, rising general, showed both promise and ability. Within a year their first son, Constantine, was born. A year after came Antonius. While neither man would come to sit the throne after their father, both would play important roles in his reign. Payment rolls from the period show just how dire the state of the Imperial army was. Although Canonius nominally stood in command of a force of two thousand soldiers, only three hundred could be said to be in active service. Problems with the Imperial army across the Empire, such as frequent desertions, a lack of supplies, a shortage of payments, and corruption, hampered the host that had just years before defeated the fearsome Romstuns. By the time of Peter II’s ill-advised intervention into the War of the Beards in 1631 in support of the Kingdom of Urguan against a coalition-backed rebellion, the Imperial war machine was simply nonfunctioning. During the disastrous war, Canonius was not called to join the Emperor’s army as it marched towards Urguan, despite being one of the more experienced and competent officers in the Empire. Instead, command was delegated to the court favorites of Peter II regardless of merit and experience. It was even rumored that the famed Commander Owein aep Cynan was stripped of his command, which was given to a former elven castrato singer that was a lover of the Emperor. However, these rumors are unsubstantiated and may simply be the result of later Pertinaxi propaganda. Despite the questions of veracity, there is no doubt that the Imperial intervention into the War of the Beards was an embarrassing, catastrophic event. It was perhaps fortunate, then, that Canonius was not called to join the army as it marched into Urguan. Because of this slight, he was able to distance himself from the great defeats suffered at the Battle of Jornheim Fields and the Siege of Fort Kovakirr, both of which caused the already-decaying Imperial army to functionally cease to exist. By 1636, Urguan was wholly annexed by the rebellious Kingdom of Kaz’Ulrah and Peter II was forced by his council to abdicate. The former Emperor’s son, John Maximilian, a boy of nine, was thrust to the throne and proclaimed as Emperor John VI. Not surprisingly, this turn to a boy-Emperor, and his accompanying regency council, did little to solve the myriad of issues facing the Mardon Empire. Heavily in debt, possessing no army, wracked by instability, and facing an external coalition, the Imperial apparatus began to fracture. Adalwulf Horen, a mercenary captain who had long fought against the Empire, was hired along with his band in the hopes of providing some measure of defense to the porous borders. Additional mercenary companies, many of them former enemies of the Empire, were also hired en masse using steep loans taken from bankers in Adelburg. There is no doubt that Canonius watched with horror and great offense when a man who so mirror his own trajectory in life, being a Horenic scion turned general, was raised to the rank of field marshal and tasked with defending the Empire from external incursions. These looming threats would manifest in the spring of 1637 when the Kingdom of Norland, eagerly eyeing the weakened Empire, began to raid and pillage along its under-protected western border. Whole towns were burnt and hundreds were slaughtered as the Norlandic berserkers looted the western Empire unopposed. From his position within the Crownlands, Canonius was unable to act, even though he was likely the only general who could prove able to adequately defend the exposed borderlands. With an imminent Norlandic invasion from the west, and an unresponsive Imperial government to the east, he called a council of war to decide his next move. According to a shepherd that lived seventeen leagues from where the general’s army was stationed, the council of war that was held between Canonius, Arpad Ivanovich, and Leitsieg Romstun, who had recently arrived with a small host to support his old ward, were divided as to what the proper course of action ought to be. While all were in agreement that naming Canonius King of Renatus, an old, defunct title long-associated with martial prowess, was the first course of action, they could not agree upon the second step. Canonius appears to have wanted to go west and directly confront the invading Norlanders. Arpad believed that they should proclaim him Holy Orenian Emperor and immediately march on Adelburg. Leitsieg argued that the proper course of action was to return to their former lands in western Lorraine, where they still enjoyed a great deal of support, and raise a stronger host there. Due to these factional divides, Canonius and his army uncharacteristically dithered. It is not known precisely when Canonius made his decision to declare himself King of Renatus, but it must have been by the end of the Harren’s Folly, as by the month of Sigismund’s End vassals around the Empire had taken note of the new “bandit king” who they derisively mocked. Proclaimed King of Renatus before his army of just over five hundred, King Canonius I pledged to restore the collapsing Crownlands, defeat the Norlandic invasion, and return order to the Empire; however, he remained vague as to his true loyalties to John VI and the regency council (authorial note: while some erroneously believe that he adopted the name ‘Aurelius’ the moment he crowned himself king, he did not do so until officially coronated in Adelburg. For the rest of this volume he shall continue to be referred to as Canonius). A full-scale invasion of the Empire in the spring of 1638 changed whatever plans the King of Renatus may have had. With an army numbering nearly ten thousand strong, King Javier of Norland, joined by strong contingents from the dwarven clans of Kaz’Ulrah, the Horde of Krugmar, the Kingdom of Santegia, and the tribes of the dark elven Warhawkes, marched towards Adelburg from the west, sacking numerous towns and besieging many castles along his path. Desperate to stop King Javier’s advance, the regency council sent Adalwulf Horen with a mixed force of raw recruits and hired mercenaries to block the coalition’s path to the capital. Adelburg, c. 1630. It initially showed some promise, but it could never contest the power and influence of Metz or Alban. To his dismay, the force given to the mercenary captain was undersupplied, poorly trained, dispirited, and disunified. Numbering just over half of the coalition’s host, this final Imperial army was decisively routed at the Battle of the Bloody Road, fought twenty miles from Adelburg, on the 8th of Tobias’s Bounty. Days after the battle, many of the mercenary companies, led by Adalwulf, defected to the coalition’s army, while the Imperial conscripts simply broke and fled back to their homes and farms. Receiving news of the shattering Imperial defeat, Canonius and his council no longer wavered. While King Javier’s army would need a few days to recover from the battle and allow time for their baggage train to reach them, they were within striking distance of the capital. Were they to reach it unopposed, they would be able to storm the city with ease and take it, decapitating the head of the dying Empire. Not wishing to see the Crownlands fall under the rule of the Fatherists, Canonius and his small host raced to Adelburg, hoping to reach the city before the coalition did. As he rode, he met with the Company of Reiters, one of the few mercenary bands who had not defected to the coalition, and added them to his ranks. By this time, Imperial order beyond the walls of the capital had collapsed. Riots had broken out in Metz, Mardon, and Bastion, the capital of the Westerlands, decrying the incapable administration. Formerly loyal vassals in the Crownlands turned to powerful lords and ladies that could promise protection against the Norlanders. Haense had withdrawn itself from Imperial affairs entirely and prepared the defense of its own borders against the neighboring Kaz’Ulrah. Even the regency council fled the capital for the safety of Bastion, but fatefully left the young Emperor behind. Around the 12th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1638, Canonius arrived at the head of his army, which numbered around two thousand strong, on the outskirts of Adelburg. The Coup of Adelburg, the defining moment in the history of the Pertinaxi Dynasty, is shrouded by myth, misconception, and propaganda. Everything from the composition of Canonius’s army, to the size of the Adelburg garrison, to the circumstances around John VI’s death, are all disputed. These authors shall try to wade through the myriad of competing theories to reach the truth behind one of history’s most infamous episodes. Unlike what legends stemming from Pertinaxi-sponsored authorship would tell the typical scholar, the Coup of Adelburg was not carried out by Canonius Horen, Leitsieg Romstun, and Arpad Ivanovich alone as they cut through thousands of men to reach the boy-Emperor and slay him. More recent figures, uncovered by NGS-affiliated scholars during the Petrine Era, are more accurate, giving a figure of around three hundred soldiers, but even this derives from misinterpretation of the sources at hand. Despite having few men to defend the city with, the old Nauzica Commander, Owein aep Cynan, who had inexplicably been denied significant authority until these final days, had allocated his sparse resources wisely. Simply put, it would have been impossible for only three hundred soldiers to storm Adelburg, make their way to the Imperial palace, and reach the boy-Emperor, as they faced well over two thousand men of the regular city garrison bolstered by thousands more from the surrounding Crownlands lords, city militia, and general citizenry. From what can be gathered from official documentation from the camp of Reiter captain Székely Mátyás, all three thousand soldiers under Canonius’s command, among them his original Imperial soldiers, Reiter mercenaries, Romstuns, and bannermen from a few minor Crownlands houses, participated on the assault of the city. The attack began mere hours after the army reached the outskirts of the city on the 12th of Tobias’s Bounty, by which time the sun had already begun to set. The battle was hard-fought, but the advantage stayed with Canonius and his soldiers who, despite being outnumbered, clearly outclassed the city garrison. Within an hour, the gates had been breached and the Imperial defenders had fallen back to the palace in order to defend the Emperor. As his thousands of Reiter mercenaries and other footmen sacked and looted Adelburg, setting several quarters of it ablaze, Canonius advanced into the palace. It was here that he, Arpad Ivanovich, Leitsieg Romstun, and three hundred handpicked fighters, made the final push. Owein aep Cynan, at the head of a depleted Nauzica Brigade bolstered by remnants of the shattered city garrison, put up a valiant resistance, but it would be in vain. As the Renatians breached the inner courtyard of the Imperial palace, the Nauzica Commander fell in the thick of the fighting. With their commander dead, the dwindling cohesion within the Imperial ranks was finally snuffed out. Many dropped their weapons and fled, while others pleaded for mercy, though it was never given. Some few, mostly the remaining Nauzicans, circled around John VI, who had remained seated on his throne for all of the battle, but their resistance could only last for so long. The Romstuns, having lost only ten of their number, entered the throne room as the moon had just begun to rise above the burning city. The final Nauzicans, exhausted and outnumbered, were quickly whittled down. It was here that, in this most infamous occasion, the most infamous act occurred. Driven by bloodlust, as was thought to be a condition of his lineage, Arpad Ivanovich stormed forth and grabbed John VI with one hand as he held his ax in the other. Ignoring the fray around him, the enraged Ivanovich slammed the boy-Emperor to the ground before splitting his head open with his crude, orcish-made ax (alternatively, some accounts say that John VI was decapitated). Silence quickly fell across the throne room as the fighting came to an end. The last of the Imperial resistance had been snuffed out, Adelburg was in the hands of the Renatians, and with the boy-Emperor’s death, the line of the Mardon Emperors had been extinguished. While the full history of the Sixth Empire will be covered in the Annals of Mardon, its ultimate demise is too intertwined with the rise of Canonius Horen to be avoided here. Thrust into an era of weak Emperors, corrupt officials, underpaid and mutinous armies, and the decline of order and security, this period was one of the few where a man such as Canonius could make as rapid of an ascent as he did. Had he been born an age earlier, his initial opposition to the Empire would have meant his death. Had he been born an age later, he would have been subsumed by the multitudes of other ambitious, ruthless men that sprung up during the period. This is not to say that he was an unremarkable man, only that the age into which he was born did not possess any force that could oppose him. Even after Prince Philip’s War, which resulted in a sound defeat for the Skravian Romstuns, Canonius was given a frontier command that effectively undid any damage that may have been done to he and his allies. It was from this position that he was ultimately able to strike at the capital. If one lesson is to be learned from Canonius’s early years, it is that something can be made of even the worst circumstances. Born into a poor and ill-regarded family, in a city stricken by poverty and backwardness, Canonius did not succumb to the pull of mediocrity that had grasped so many others in such circumstances, but aspired to see what heights he could climb to given what he had. He was faithful to his closest allies, the Romstuns, yet showed political tact in his dealings with the Mardons. He could always rely on the former for support and use the latter to advance his position. The one danger that Canonius could have faced at this time was that the power he had was not his. Aside from the soldiers directly under his command, his personal connections with the Romstums allowed him to access services from the Reiters, which in turn made him an appealing candidate to support by the Crownlands nobility who feared dispossession if the region was conquered by King Javier of Norland. If at any point, one of these three critical links to his support base removed themselves, then he would have been left at a complete disadvantage. Moving forward, not only would he have to placate these factions, he would have to build a new center of political power completely loyal to him. O Ágioi Kristoff, Jude kai Pius. Dóste mas gnósi ópos sas ékane o Theós. Poté min afísoume na doúme to skotádi, allá as doúme móno to fos tis sofías kai tis alítheias. O Theós na se evlogeí. Canonius’s subsequent actions as King of Renatus shall be covered in our next volume of The Historia Pertinaxi.

Johanes and Saskia oversee the massive expansion of beef production throughout the Midlands. They also begin to dabble in genetic manipulation so that they may make cows that are larger, fatter, more tender, and come complete with all of the nutrients a soldier needs. @JoanOfArc

Johanes van Aert sends his best regards to his son, Gustaf, whose heroics he hears have begun to triumph his own. It was as any father hoped, that the children surpassed the parents, but for it to be so soon was a sweet thing. @Halt

[!] Johanes van Aert sends the following letter out to his beloved cousin, Saskia. "My dearest cousin, Saskia, I hear that you have defamed my name and slighted my honor. You claimed to have mastery of the game of billiards, yet it is known from Talar'nor in the West to Aaun in the East that I am the most fearsome player. I first had my practice when I took a cue from an opponent during our war for liberation. Ever since I have used it, for it bestows luck upon me, and for it I have not been felled in this battle over the table. If you care to back your words with action, you know the tavern to find me in, you lowly curr. Your friend and cousin, Johnny P.S: I hope you enjoyed the lamprey pie that I made. It was my first try at baking." @JoanOfArc

In 1690, Kondak'Raguk had been one of the wealthiest individuals on all of Atlas, never mind among the orcs. More a scavenger and trader than a warrior, he had been the principal financier of Rex Guruuk'Lak's war effort against the might of Renatus. San'Kala, the seat of the War Horde, had suffered bombardment and assault from Aurelius's siege, but it still held. Norland had fallen, Arberrang was weak, Kaz'Ulrah had been bloodied, but the Horde stood. Death was inevitable, Guruuk'Lak had driven his people into folly, no victory would come save the honor of a glorious stand. It was all that an orc could dream of, especially during those times. A week before the final assault, Kondak fled. As he made over the hills of the Wonkawoods, he could hear the thundering of trebuchet and the clash of steel as battle was made. When he reached one peak, the banners of Renatus swarmed across San'Kala. He watched the destruction of his people for a brief moment, then turned around and ventured back into the foliage. For the ensuing centuries he was nothing more than a petty outlaw, robbing from strangers on the road, avoiding Imperial patrols, and sleeping under trees and in caves. Life became a blur as he sunk to nothing more than the type of beast he had hunted in his youth. From a lonely tavern on the roads, in a place where he had not yet earned the ire from any decent type, he drinks a solemn mug of ale and overhears the conversation about him from the few patrons. Out east, his people, united again, prepared to make a stand. For a moment, the extinguished flame in his soul burst alight again, enough time for him to draw his blade and slit open his own throat. As he gasped for air he could not find, his drink mixing with his life's liquid as both spilled to the ground, he felt content that his kin had not stooped so low as he. There were more than a few honorable orcs left in the world, even if he was not one of them, and for that he was briefly happy for the first time in over two hundred years.

"Oh my God, she's choking it. DAMAGE CONTROL, NOW!" Johanes screams to several young interns as his cousin gets mobs by Church officials demanding answers for the slip-up.

Johanes shuffles the deck of cards and deals them to her as they sit beside the fireplace late into the night. "I wish."

"They say you're anathema, Gaspard. They say you're killing Canonists, Gaspard. They say you're evil, Gaspard. They say you're a draconic spawn, Gaspard. How will you respond, Gaspard?" Johanes van Aert says to his brother in the barracks as they get ready for another day of training before the 'big game.' @M1919

The Maxims of Lodenlander Warfare by Johanes van Aert 19th of Horen’s Calling, 1951 Maps of the city of Nordengrad and the Krag Castle during the Siege of Nordengrad, c. 1690 The Lodenlanders, thought to be a petty and insignificant people, owing to our small numbers, have never been studied or documented outside of cultural practices that have faded since the 17th century. The manner by which our people undertake war is, therefore, critically under examined. However, the success of the Blackvale Vrijkorps since the Eastfleet War, and a reexamination of military history dating back to the Pertinaxi Empire, which saw many Lodenlanders in the employ of Aurelius and his successors, has sparked a strong interest in the study of warfare from those who conduct it best. The following are lessons that have been applied across the history of the Lodenlanders: MAXIM I. Never abandon your line of communication from overconfidence, yet to change that line is a skillful art that may be authorized in highest necessity. (See: The Siege of Arberrang, 1691, where after a first failed assault against the town Emperor Aurelius and Imperial General Joep van den Beld shifted their lines of communication with Carolustadt westward to avoid raiding parties around Curon.) MAXIM II. Scattered bodies of an army moving towards a fixed point must be united a safe distance from the enemy. If this takes place near the enemy, they are at risk of being defeated in detail or prevented from junction by a concentrated force. (See: The Battle of Ferry’s Folly, 1867, where Emperor Philip III and Duke Willem van Aert concentrated their superior numbers at a ruined citadel outside of Jarad’s Tavern before marching to defeat a force of Ferrymen at the ruins of Haverlock.) MAXIM III. To besiege a fortification which gives no advantage to yourself nor annoyance to the enemy is a wasted endeavor. (See: The Siege of White Peak, 1668, where King Aurelius bypassed several Courlandic castles and towns to strike at their capital. Renatian Major Hendricus Woordes was able to establish an effective rearguard to ward off any threats from undermanned garrisons in the rear and allow the main army to strike a decisive blow against the Staunton rebels.) MAXIM IV. Every position must secure protection for your flanks and lines of communication. (See: The Battle of Rolly’s Field, 1918, where Duke Heinrik Sarkozic and Duke Valentin van Aert were able to extend their line of attack to be anchored by the River Reden and Jasper’s Farm, allowing them to encircle the Aaunish army without threat on either flank or of their lines of communication back to Veletzia being cut off.) MAXIM V. A position cannot be too strong that it cannot be reinforced by field-works that allow for a smaller part of your army to defend against a greater part of the enemy’s so that the greater part of your force may assail the enemy. (See: The Battle of the Forkwoods, 1661, where a majority-Lodenlander battalion on the left flank of the Renatian army, commanded by Colonel Toon Berkenvelder, was able to resist two battalions of Norlandic soldiers by assuming a strong position behind a river bend. A third of Colonel Berkenvelder’s battalion was able to put up a staunch defense against the Norlandic forces while the other two-thirds made numerous flanking attacks and eventually drove them off.) MAXIM VI. When on the eve of battle recall all your detachments. Never attack with a portion of your force when a short delay may allow you to bring your full strength to bear. One may never have too many soldiers. (See: The Battle of Rochdale, 1640, where a company of Lodenlander freeriders under Renatian Captain Gijsje Hoog Stoevenbeld was recalled to join the main host hours before the battle and played a crucial role in driving back a dwarven surprise attack at dawn.) MAXIM VII. If your enemy is entrenching and you decide to attack, do not delay, as each hour may lose you a hundred men or more. (See: The Battle of the Rolling Hills, 1660, where a force of Haeseni soldiers attempted to take a defensive position atop a hill to stave off a retreat. Renatian Lt. Colonel Lennerd Wiendels op den Pas acted quickly and immediately assailed their position with his battalion, despite being greatly outnumbered. This gave time for the right flank of the Renatian army to arrive and crush this holdout before they could organize a proper defense.) MAXIM VIII. An attack made on the enemy’s center is the most decisive. That on a flank is the most secure. (See: The Battle of New Providence Bridge, 1851, where Duke Gaspard van Aert led a direct assault against the center of the Imperial force facing him, which was twice as large. The Imperial line immediately caved inwards, forcing a general rout early into the battle.) MAXIM IX. An army in an enemy country should never be for a moment without an advance guard and advance posts. (See: The Leuven Campaign, 1716-1718, where Imperial General Marthijn Weggeman led two battalions of Lodenlander light cavalry to secure the northern woods bordering Haense and cut off the southern roads that would have allowed reinforcements from Fenn and Curon. With these two positions held, the Imperial Legion led by Sir Donald Horen was able to advance on the County of Leuven without fear of being attacked from either flank.) MAXIM X. Time is the only disadvantage that cannot be mitigated by skill or fortune. (See: The Great Siege of Helena, 1716, where the time that Arthur de Falstaff needed to train and organize his army was better-spent by the Renatians, guided by William Jrent and Imperial General Korneel ter Hedde, who fortified Helena until it could not be conquered by Joseph Marna’s massive host, no matter how much training or supplies they had received.)

The East-Sea Pact A D O R I E N T A L E M P L A G A M M A R I S Anno Domini 1950 PREAMBLE In the spirit of righteousness and unity between a strengthening understanding of two races, the following articles have been mutually agreed upon by both the parties of the United Kingdom of Aaun and the Serene State of Lurin. The pact length will be aforementioned within the duration clause, in which it will be renewed once the pact is over. To new beginnings and to the strengthening unity of two nations of diverse cultures and races. Article 1: Sovereignty I. The Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun hereby concur to acknowledge the autonomy and sovereign prerogative of each respective realm. The northern crossroads of the Floodplains and the Lowlands shall be the sovereign right of the party of the United Kingdom of Aaun to claim entirely alone and forever; The Crownlands shall be the sovereign right of the party of the United Kingdom of Aaun to claim entirely alone and forever; II. The Northern Crossroads of the Floodplains shall be the sovereign right of the party of the United Kingdom of Aaun to claim entirely alone and forever; The Crownlands shall be the sovereign right of the party of the United Kingdom of Aaun to claim entirely alone and forever; The middle of the floodplains, known by Lurin as the Marchlands shall be the sovereign right of the party of the Most Serene State of Lurin to claim entirely alone and forever; The southern Lurin coast shall be the sovereign right of the party of the Most Serene State of Lurin to claim entirely alone and forever. Article II: Mutual Guarantee I. The Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun hereby pledge to refrain from engaging in any acts of aggression or military hostilities against one another in any manner. II. In addition, this commitment encompasses the preservation of the right to unrestricted movement of their respective citizens between the signatory nations. III. The citizens of either party shall refrain from accepting military commissions or engaging in mercenary employment from any state with which the other party is involved in a state of war. Article III: Defensive Alliance I. The Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun agree to a defensive military alliance, in which any hostilities from a third party against any one of them will be viewed as an attack against the both of them. II: The Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun agree to settle any dispute between them or in which they may be involved through diplomatic means in such a manner that this alliance and the laws of The Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun are not endangered. III: The Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun agree to consult together whenever, in the opinion of either of them, the territorial integrity, political independence or security of the Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun is threatened. Article IV: Extradition I. The Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun hereby consent to a reciprocal extradition provision, whereby a citizen of either nation, provided there is justifiable cause for their arrest, may be apprehended and subsequently transferred to the jurisdiction of the courts in the territory where their alleged crime transpired. II. In such instances, an Extradition Request must be formally submitted by the judicial authorities of the first party's state to the Monarch or Trade Prince of the second party for approval. III. Legal representation for the defendant may be provided by the judicial representatives of the nation from which the citizen or subject originates. Article V: Diplomatic Exchange I. The parties collectively affirm the principle of diplomatic exchange between their respective governments, aimed at fostering dialogue and mutual understanding. In accordance with this, the United Kingdom of Aaun shall dispatch a temporary envoy to the Serene State of Lurin, and reciprocally, the other party stands ready to attend diplomatic meetings at the behest of His Majesty's Government. II. The parties jointly endorse the principle of diplomatic freedom, emphasising the inviolability and immutability thereof. This entails that envoys and government messengers shall enjoy unrestricted movement within the territory of each party. Furthermore, they shall not be subject to prosecution by local or national authorities for any civil or criminal proceedings unless their home country explicitly waives their entitlement to such immunity. III. The parties retain the prerogative to formally expel a diplomat whose actions are deemed to have substantially undermined the national integrity and order of either party's realm. Article VI: Duration I. The Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun hereby stipulate that this treaty shall remain in force until the majority of His Majesty the King; that is to say this treaty and its functional articles shall remain extant for twenty years. II. Should any of the Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun desire to enact modifications to this treaty in the future, they shall engage in consultations with the others to deliberate upon substantiated alterations, in order to prevent the potential dissolution of this agreement through mutual consent. III. Upon the expiration of the treaty's stipulated duration, the Serene State of Lurin and the United Kingdom of Aaun reserved the option to petition for an extension, to be collectively considered, should it be deemed advantageous to both parties. Article VII: Trade Agreement I. The United Kingdom of Aaun accepts and allows a merchant quarters to be built within the Lowlands Crossroads within the Kingdoms borders. The quarters will not be taxed, and will be expected to be regularly restocked to continue socio-economic growth within the respective nations. II. The Serene State of Lurin accepts and allows a merchant quarter to be built within floodplains crossroads within the Serene State’s borders. The quarters will not be taxed and will be expected to be regularly restocked to continue socio-economic growth within the respective nations. Signed, HIS MAJESTY, Edmund II Alstion, by the Grace of God, King of Aaun, Prince of Alstion, Duke of Corazon, Balamena, Protector of the Realm, and etcetera Lumia Anarion, the Silver Lubba

The Dragon-Star Pact F O E D V S I N T E R D R A C O N E S E T A S T R A Anno Domini 1950 PREAMBLE In the spirit of righteousness and unity between a strengthening understanding of two races, the following articles have been mutually agreed upon by both the parties of the United Kingdom of Aaun and the Principality of Celia’nor. The pact length will be aforementioned within the duration clause, in which it will be renewed once the pact is over. To new beginnings and to the strengthening unity of two nations of diverse cultures and races. Article 1: Sovereignty I. The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun hereby concur to acknowledge the autonomy and sovereign prerogative of each respective realm. The northern crossroads of the Floodplains and the Lowlands shall be the sovereign right of the party of the United Kingdom of Aaun to claim entirely alone and forever; The Crownlands shall be the sovereign right of the party of the United Kingdom of Aaun to claim entirely alone and forever; II. The north eastern portion of the Midlands, where Celia'nor lies, shall be the sovereign right of the party of the Principality of Celia'nor to claim entirely alone and forever; The soon to be Northern portion of the Principality of Celia'nor’s borders of the southern western likes of the Taiga Highlands shall be the sovereign right of the party of the Principality of Celia'nor to claim entirely alone and forever. Article II: Mutual Guarantee I. The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun hereby pledge to refrain from engaging in any acts of aggression or military hostilities against one another in any manner. II. In addition, this commitment encompasses the preservation of the right to unrestricted movement of their respective citizens between the signatory nations. III. The citizens of either party shall refrain from accepting military commissions or engaging in mercenary employment from any state with which the other party is involved in a state of war. Article III: Military Alliance I. The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun agree to a defensive military alliance, in which any hostilities from a third party against any one of them will be viewed as an attack against the both of them. II. The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun confirm and declare that should either party intend offensive military undertakings against a third party nation, then, if in defence of their independence aforementioned, Article III clause I comes into operation; if the declaration of war shall be with intent to conquer, humiliate or any other reason than defence of independence, then they shall immediately consult the other party for assent, for both parties declare that above all the interests of their own inviolable sovereignties are taken into account. III: The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun agree to settle any dispute between them or in which they may be involved through diplomatic means in such a manner that this alliance and the laws of The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun are not endangered. IV: The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun agree to consult together whenever, in the opinion of either of them, the territorial integrity, political independence or security of the Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun is threatened. Article IV: Extradition I. The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun hereby consent to a reciprocal extradition provision, whereby a citizen of either nation, provided there is justifiable cause for their arrest, may be apprehended and subsequently transferred to the jurisdiction of the courts in the territory where their alleged crime transpired. II. In such instances, an Extradition Request must be formally submitted by the judicial authorities of the first party's state to the Monarch or Trade Prince of the second party for approval. III. Legal representation for the defendant may be provided by the judicial representatives of the nation from which the citizen or subject originates. Article V: Diplomatic Exchange I. The parties collectively affirm the principle of diplomatic exchange between their respective governments, aimed at fostering dialogue and mutual understanding. In accordance with this, the United Kingdom of Aaun shall dispatch a temporary envoy to the Principality of Celia'nor, and reciprocally, the other party stands ready to attend diplomatic meetings at the behest of His Majesty's Government. II. The parties jointly endorse the principle of diplomatic freedom, emphasising the inviolability and immutability thereof. This entails that envoys and government messengers shall enjoy unrestricted movement within the territory of each party. Furthermore, they shall not be subject to prosecution by local or national authorities for any civil or criminal proceedings unless their home country explicitly waives their entitlement to such immunity. III. The parties retain the prerogative to formally expel a diplomat whose actions are deemed to have substantially undermined the national integrity and order of either party's realm. Article VI: Duration I. The Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun hereby stipulate that this treaty shall remain in force until the majority of His Majesty the King; that is to say this treaty and its functional articles shall remain extant for twenty years. II. Should any of the Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun desire to enact modifications to this treaty in the future, they shall engage in consultations with the others to deliberate upon substantiated alterations, in order to prevent the potential dissolution of this agreement through mutual consent. III. Upon the expiration of the treaty's stipulated duration, the Principality of Celia'nor and the United Kingdom of Aaun reserved the option to petition for an extension, to be collectively considered, should it be deemed advantageous to both parties. Article VII: Trade Agreement I. The United Kingdom of Aaun accepts and allows a merchant quarters to be built within the Lowlands Crossroads within the Kingdoms borders. The quarters will not be taxed, and will be expected to be regularly restocked to continue socio-economic growth within the respective nations. II. The Principality of Celia’nor accepts and allows a merchant quarter to be built within Northern Midlands crossroads within the Principalities borders. The quarters will not be taxed and will be expected to be regularly restocked to continue socio-economic growth within the respective nations. Signed, HIS MAJESTY, Edmund II Alstion, by the Grace of God, King of Aaun, Prince of Alstion, Duke of Corazon, Balamena, Protector of the Realm, and etcetera Her Excellency, the Honourable High Princess, Illyria Ibarellan, The Prophesied, The Reclaimer and Phoenix of the Principality of Celia'nor,

THE WINTER CROWS: Volume V; Stefan I - The Strong Written by Demetrius Barrow Stefan I - The Strong "He is a scourge who knows no loyalty nor tact. I could not conceive of a greedy opportunity that he would not jump at eagerly. I fear, Your Imperial Majesty, with words that must express my utter contempt despite my reservation to make such a pronouncement, that the King of Haense is a deviant to the Imperial State and a foe to all humanity.” - Prince Philip Owyn, Archchancellor of the Holy Orenian Empire, c. 1621 Although he died at the young age of twenty six, Stefan I had lived several lives by the time drew his last breath. The first of these came when he took that initial breath on the 15th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1597, in the Ottosgrad Palace. Born to the child royal couple of Marus I and Queen Adelheid, Prince Stefan Karl’s early life was dominated by tutors, priests, and nuns that attended to him far more than his parents ever would. Much of what was said for Petyr Mark can be said for Stefan Karl: the scant few years he had in Haense before the Great Northern War ended abruptly upon his father’s defeat. Forced into exile in Mardon in 1604, Prince Stefan was only seven when his childhood home was burnt and his father’s kingdom conquered by King Tobias of Courland. As he entered his middle youth in Mardon, what few memories he had of his home were so muddled that he questioned whether they existed at all. Where Prince Stefan’s upbringing differed from his brother’s was in his nature. The elder brother was meek, the younger gregarious; the elder sickly, the younger strong; the elder an afterthought, the younger a symbol of hope for the lost Haeseni. Stefan did not have the time to make a great impression on the court of Ottosgrad, but throughout his upbringing in Mardon he was a central part of King Peter’s court and frequently mistaken as the heir of the Barbanovs. He even served as a personal page and aide to the king during the brief Courland-Mardon War. The many intrigues of the Greyspine Rebellion have been discussed in the previous novel, so treading that same trail shall be avoided. Prince Stefan was briefly considered as a candidate to sit a restored Haeseni throne over his brother, but a break in the line of succession was quickly dismissed by the conspirators. Throughout the later of 1611, as the combined forces of House Ruthern, Prince Otto, and the Rothswood clans cemented their alliance in the First Battle of the Rothswood against House Kovachev, it was King Petyr that they fought in the name of. Unfortunately this would not last, for mere weeks after the sickly boy was dead and the plans of the conspirators had fallen into disarray. While one would assume that the aims of the Greyspine Rebellion would naturally shift towards putting Prince Stefan on the throne, matters had changed. Lukas Vanir’s arrest at the order of King Hughes of Lotharingia had removed a key, unifying voice in the movement to restore Haense. Additionally, the early death of Petyr II had made many wary of the prospect of enthroning another young boy as their king. Within a few months, another problem of succession could arise. With the forces of the Archduke of Akovia marshaling to launch a counterattack, the Greyspine conspirators tabled the issue of succession and focused on simply winning the war. This temporary agreement does not mean that the command was unified within the rebel camp. Captain Harren of Metterden and Count Vladrick var Ruthern wanted to return to Metterden and await reinforcement by the experienced soldiers of Dunamis Company and the Knights of the Black Sepulchre. Prince Otto thought that they should disperse in the face of an amassed Kovachev army and focus on raiding many of the small towns and poorly-manned castles in Archduke Franz’s control. Brynden Tosali and the Rothswood clans called both ways cowardly and bitterly argued that a full assault was needed to finish the battered Kovachev forces before they could be reinforced by their allies in Lorraine and Clan Frostbeard or, even worse, an army from Courland. Prince Otto, knowing that a break in strategy was far worse than a plan he did not care for, relented to the Rutherns and retreated to Metterden with them. The Dunamis Company and the Knights of the Black Sepulchre were only weeks away, and they brought not only additional manpower but an edge in quality that was desperately needed by the rebels. This general agreement in strategy was not fully adhered to. Not the sort of people to be convinced otherwise, certainly not with their homes on the lines, the Rothswood clans remained and gathered in force. This proved to be a most unwise policy by the clans, but they were no adepts in warfare to begin with. Immediately after his humiliating defeat, Archduke Franz called upon each vassal still loyal to him, each village where reserves could be drawn from, and every sworn knight and man at arms in all of Akovia. He knew well that the fortunes of his house were now on the line. He could either usher in a century of glory for House Kovachev, and perhaps a royal title to go with it, or the power of this old, esteemed house would be exterminated by the Greyspine Rebellion. The Frostbeard mercenaries arrived in Turov on the 26th of Owyn’s Flame, and the King of Lotharingia promised that he would arrive by the year’s end with his army of knights. King Joseph of Courland also began to organize an expeditionary force, but large-scale demobilization and retirement after the end of King Tobias’s conquests had left behind an army that was small and ill-equipped. A new one would have to be trained and supplied. Not wishing to wait for months and give his enemies time to grow their own strength, Archduke Franz launched a counteroffensive into the Rothswood on the 4th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1611. At the head of an army four thousand strong, the Archduke met two thousand Rothswood clansmen led by Brynden Tosali six days later at the Battle of Dunarsund. Ill-equipped, ill-prepared, and poorly led, the Rothswood army could only count on its collective ferocity and bravery, which could only go so far. In a confusing mess of a battle lasting over four hours in the thick woods around the small village, Franz Kovachev managed to avenge his earlier loss by soundly defeating the Tosali chief. Most of the Rothswood army lay dead or had scattered, while the Kovachevs had only lost two hundred soldiers. Mortesviel and Dunarsund, the homes of the Tosalis, were captured and made a base of operations for Franz Kovachev. The Grimrichs, Dunes, and Blackwoods, among other families, set their own manors and villages ablaze to prevent them from being taken by the advancing Kovachevs. Raising additional soldiers by the day, the Archduke of Akovia felt confident enough to divide his forces and spread out across the north. Isolated guerilla bands were crushed. Villages sympathetic (or at least accused of being so) to the rebel cause were burned. Those who had pledged support to the Greyspine Rebellion were executed. Refugees from the Rothswood flooded towards Metterden, seriously straining resources in what was quickly becoming the last bastion of the rebellion. Fortunately it was the gateway to the north, so possession of it could ensure limited trade and reinforcement from the south. As the year drew to a close, many in Haense and abroad in Mardon feared that the First Battle of the Rothswood had only been a minor victory, the high-water mark of what was quickly becoming a faltering rebellion. Franz Kovachev had now assembled an army numbering some seven thousand two hundred strong, so it could afford to be divided and garrisoned across Haense. Four and a half thousand of those were personally sworn to House Kovachev, which meant their loyalty could be relied on. Two thousand came from the settled Courlandic vassals in the north, who did not wish to be dispossessed by a successful rebellion. Seven hundred were Frostbeard mercenaries and formed a formidable core of shock infantry. Over much of the next year, Franz Kovachev was able to secure his hold on the north. By the month of Owyn’s Flame only Metterden stood, but reinforcements from the Order of the Black Sepulchre and the Dunamis Company made it a formidable target to attack, so the Archduke of Akovia decided to wait for the arrival of the armies from Lorraine and Courland, but that was no certain thing. Despite it having been over a year since the outset of the Greyspine Rebellion, both had been slow to arrive. Unusually slow. As mentioned in the previous volume, the strength of King Joseph of Courland paled in comparison to what his father boasted. The core of veteran soldiers, loyal officers, and capable commanders had been lost to years of campaigns and later retirements. The boy’s regency council cared more about cementing their individual stations than managing the affairs of the realm. As political intrigue in Aleksandria took the attention of more and more figures in the government, the Greyspine Rebellion became an afterthought, a matter that the governor of the north could handle. As for the King of Lotharingia, he truly had no intention of supporting Franz Kovachev nor the Courlandic government that had failed to sufficiently reward House d’Amaury for their services. King Hughes, though young, was ambitious, and he knew that if he could aid in toppling the Courlandic hegemony, he would be a power broker in the ensuing interregnum. His arrest of Lukas Vanir in 1611 had been a ruse to convince the Archduke of Akovia that he was a loyal friend, but as he allowed his army to slowly meander across the Heartlands at a snail’s pace, he enjoyed tea and charcuterie with the former Palatine of Haense. The pair got on well, and in between discussions of strategy they spoke of philosophy, politics, and infrastructure. Simple things, but the young King of Lotharingia made a strong impression on the old Vanir. The war lay dormant for many months. The Kovachevs did not dare to move against the well-fortified Metterden, but the Rutherns did not have the strength to face their foe in the open field. Just as it seemed a long stalemate was set to ensure, the Lothairingian contingent finally arrived in the south of Haense on the 21st of Owyn’s Flame, 1612. With Lukas Vanir there to prove their good intentions, the southern knights were accepted into Metterden and joined the Haeseni rebels to raucous cheers. At a council a day later, King Hughes advised an aggressive offensive against Franz Kovachev, who was blindsided by the Lotharingian betrayal. Due to Lukas Vanir’s old age, King Hughes’s inexperience, Count Vladrick’s youth, and Prince Otto’s unwillingness to command an army larger than his roving band, Captain Harren of Metterden was given full authority over the forces of the Greyspine Rebellion. Concurring with the King of Lotharingia, the army of the rebel lords marched north from Metterden, catching the scattered Kovachev army unaware. Archduke Franz’s forces were scattered across the north, but he was able to organize a skillful retreat to his camps by Mortesviel in the Rothswood, where he began to consolidate his forces. Captain Harren, an aggressive but not foolhardy general, did not confront this united force, having failed in the objective of defeating it in detail. Instead, over the next month he took a few small towns and castles, projecting the authority of House Ruthern outside of Metterden again. However, this was not a popular strategy, and by the end of the month of Godfrey’s Triumph, the pressure from the mercenaries and hotheaded lords within the rebel army to fight a battle was too great. Acquiescing, Captain Harren marched north to Mortesviel to decide the fate of the war. The Second Battle of the Rothswood, fought on the 7th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1612, was no sure thing for the Haeseni rebels. Franz Kovachev was a capable, experienced commander, and his host of seven thousand two hundred men was formidable. Under his command, Captain Harren had two thousand Ruthern levymen, seven hundred Barbanov soldiers under Prince Otto’s command, four hundred mercenaries from the Dunamis Company, another four hundred mercenaries from the Order of the Black Sepulchre, seven hundred Rothswood clansmen, and one thousand Lotharingian knights and squires. It was a motley army, but the Ruthern armory had been nearly emptied to outfit every last man and woman, and despite having two thousand fewer men than his Kovachev foe, Captain Harren’s army was experienced and of high quality. Heavy blizzards marked the days leading up to the battle, creating a foreboding atmosphere that was noted by the soldiers of both armies. This battle would certainly decide the war, the very fate of Haense. A Kovachev victory would spell the end of any resistance and cement themselves as the rulers of the north for generations, while Courland’s hold on the region would be kept. A Ruthern victory would bring back the Haeseni Crown and catapult House Ruthern into primacy in the north, effectively replacing the spot that House Kovachev had inhabited before them. The stakes could not have been higher, and as the snowfalls forced the two armies to proceed on foot, the soldiers endured the mind-numbing cold knowing that each and every one of them would be needed for the coming battle. Lotharingian knights being guided by a Ruthern footman during a scouting expedition, c. 1611. While King Hughes’s army was famed for its cavalry wing, their unfamiliarity with the northern terrain meant they had to be guided by locals. On the afternoon of the 7th of the Grand Harvest, 1612, the two armies met just outside of Dunarsund and arrayed against each other. The snowstorms had abated, but several inches still coated the ground. This made maneuvering difficult, and by the time that lines were drawn it was well past midday. With the Archduke of Akovia holding a strong defensive position around the village, he wisely felt no need to press an attack against the smaller army. He simply had to lure them into a foolish advance and overwhelm them with his numbers. To bait them, he sent forth a skirmishing force. Captain Harren, similarly, did not wish to be the aggressor here, but the Kovachev skirmishers forced him to deploy his own. He had hoped to use the expert cavalry under Prince Otto and the King of Lotharingia to his advantage in the battle, but the snows made it impossible. With no camp to retreat to and a need for a swift victory, the general was forced to respond in the exact manner he did not want to. Calling upon the light javelinmen of the Dunamis Company, he began to harass the Kovachev entrenchments around Dunarsund. For an hour this state of affairs persisted, but the tides shifted when the Archduke of Akovia was struck in the face with an arrow while shoring up his archers. Although it was not a fatal blow, it did force his retirement from the battlefield as he was taken to the manor of Mortesviel to be treated. Franz Kovachev had failed to establish a clear chain of command, so as he withdrew, unconscious from his wound, confusion spread through the ranks. Many of his personal bannermen in the center, fearing their liege had been killed, drew back to the manor to investigate. Captain Harren, seeing this weakened center, ordered the Ruthern contingent of the army to advance and support, among them the young Count of Metterden himself. Prince Otto’s band and the Knights of the Black Sepulchre on the left pinned down the Frostbeard mercenaries, while King Hughes led his Lotharingian knights and the Rothswood clansmen to counter the Courlandic-Akovian vassals that were also directionless. The Dunamis Company was given the most simple task of the day: cause panic. Taken from his army at the height of his power, Franz Kovachev was not there to rally it when it needed him most. Scattered, confused, and leaderless, thousands of Kovachev soldiers were cut down by the advancing Rutherns. On the left, the Frostbeard mercenaries quickly withdrew as they saw the tide of battle turn almost instantly, and the many vassals of the Archduke did the same. Many still had lands in titles in Courland. The north may be lost, but they had a place in the south, so hundreds more fled the battlefield for their homeland, at times even ignoring the castles and towns they had taken possession of after Tobias’s conquest. Only the Kovachevs stood to fight, losing the numerical advantage they had boasted at the start. With thousands dead or fled, the remainder tried to defend the Mortesviel manor and their unconscious liege. For a short time there was a stalemate and the Kovachevs gained control of the gates around the petty manor, but in doing so they only sealed their fate. Prince Otto, not wishing to lose significant numbers in a frontal assault against the manor, ordered it set ablaze. A great fire swept through for the next hour, killing many hundreds of Kovachev men including the Archduke of Akovia, who apparently never woke from his injury as the fires raged around him. As the final embers died the moon had risen over the battlefield, illuminating the strewn bodies in its soft glow. Three thousand Akovians had perished, most of them Kovachev soldiers, and another two thousand had been captured. Only seven hundred Haeseni had been killed or wounded, but among that count was the old Palatine, Lukas Vanir. In his final hours, the elder statesman had helped secure the restoration of his kingdom. The Second Battle of the Rothswood marked the end of House Kovachev’s primacy in the north and forever changed the balance of power within not just Haense, but the whole of Axios. As the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska was restored from the ruins of Akovia, and all the exiled lords invited back to repossess their old estates, the King of Lotharingia and the King of Mardon followed the north’s lead and declared themselves free and independent of Courlandic rule. King Joseph of Courland, now of age, dismissed his regency council and informed the Haeseni lords that he would be willing to make peace on favorable terms to them. With the power of House Kovachev broken forever, even if the loyal Duke Sergei of Carntia was to be granted some of his traitorous cousin’s old possessions, House Ruthern now took the position of the strongest family in the realm. Count Vladrick and Captain Harren knew that their role was that of the kingmakers, for after Petyr II’s death no heir had been recognized. Although the rights of the late king’s brother, Prince Stefan, would seemingly take precedence, he personally lacked the means of enforcing his claim as he had not fought in the Greyspine Rebellion. Crossing into Haense on the 30th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1612, mere days before the turn of the year, Prince Stefan returned to a realm that he hardly remembered. Having only been a boy when he first departed, the prince, in the company of a few loyal Barbanov men, remarked that “... the snow, which I had remembered being a vivid, blinding white was very much that, but often too we came across a patch that was stained red.” Fortunately for the young prince, the violence that had been shed over the past year was not without cause. The returning vassals of the north flocked to Metterden and its surrounding villages. It was here that the beginnings of a Duma, as agreed to by the victors of the Greyspine Rebellion, commenced over the ensuing weeks. As the lords of Haense gathered to elect a king, three major factions emerged throughout the late winter months of 1612. The first, the Yellow Party, was led by Prince Otto, Duke Sergei Kovachev, and Marquis Petyr Vanir, son of the late Marquis Brandon Vanir. They represented the Barbanov cause and advocated for the return of the legitimate line to the throne, beginning with Prince Stefan. House Barbanov had ruled the north well, and the Greyspine Rebellion had its origins in the plot to retake the throne for Petyr II. It was obvious that most of the realm desired a return to what had been. The way to do that was to avoid notions of elevating another line and put faith in the capable Prince Stefan, who was well-liked in the court of Mardon and could keep the strength of the anti-Courland coalition together through it. The second, the Greyspine Party, was led by Count Vladrick and Captain Harren, and found support among many of the veteran soldiers of the rebellion, who argued that those who had led Haense to victory and reclaimed its independence were best-suited to rule. Boasting impressive lands and many bannermen to themselves, the Rutherns were by far the most powerful family in the north. St. Karlsburg had been burned, the Barbanovs had shown their failure in the Great Northern War, and Haense needed to enter a new age, one led by the forward-thinking House Ruthern. Additionally, King Hughes of Lotharignia made it known that they favored a Ruthern king, which added further weight to the legitimacy of the Greyspine Party. The third, the White Party, was led by House Vyronov and the Rothswood clans, who desired a swift departure from the ways of old. Whether Barbanov or Ruthern, all that would happen upon either’s ascension was the return of the ancient families to their seats and the continuation of the same aristocratic hierarchy that had existed before. Although they had fought against Franz Kovachev, the White Party did so believing that they would be amply rewarded. When it became evident over the course of the Duma that this would not be the case, they turned towards more radical calls for land redistribution and the reorganization of the aristocracy, which won the support of many minor lordlings, merchants, and landless knights. Although the weeks of the National Duma were contentious, the outcome was never truly in doubt. Fearing the power of an all-controlling House Ruthern as much as the radical platform of the White Party, many of the middle nobility flocked towards the Yellows. Winning a great majority of the vote from the assembled nobility of Haense, Prince Stefan was formally accepted as King Stefan I on the 3rd of Sun’s Smile, 1613, to great applause in Metterden. A number of speeches were given, and while their contents have been lost to time, accounts from those there remarked that the young king was well-spoken and resolute. It was determined that the king, aged sixteen, needed no regent, so Stefan I was thrown into the politics of a newly-independent realm that had been ruined by war. He officially had no seat of government- much less a government itself-, faced disaffected factions in the Greyspine Party and the White Party, and sat in an uncertain place in the global stage. It was to be a mountain of a task, but thankfully for the young king he was not without key allies. His uncle, Prince Otto, and his cousin, Prince Heinrik of Bihar, son of the regent Prince Karl Sigmar, became leading voices in his government and aided him in rebuilding a state bureaucracy. House Ruthern and its vassals were invited to partake, and from then on the Greyspine Party ceased to exist, as many young lordlings were granted posts and titles in the government and Count Vladrick and Captain Harren were given places on the king’s council. Notably, the White Party was neglected, and while the Vyronovs and the Rothswood clans could do little but protest, they returned to their homes and vowed only to fulfill what their oaths to the king required of them and nothing more. Ironically, one of the first acts that King Stefan did to secure his reign was to return to the Heartlands, more specifically to Lotharingia. King Peter of Mardon had already responded positively to the restoration of House Barbanov, but the court of Metz was far more muted on the subject. To curry some favor with Lotharingia, and keep intact the united front against Courland, King Stefan decided to venture down there with his court. In what was a shocking move at the time, the King of Haense also agreed to have his coronation in the Hochspitze Palace, home of the absurdly wealthy House of Horen-Pruessens, one of King Hughes’s key vassals. Held on the 6th of Harren’s Folly, 1613, to a crowd of mostly Heartlanders, Stefan I was officially recognized as lord and master of Haense, a move that ruffled many feathers among his northern courtiers, but more than pleased the King of Lotharingia. King Stefan’s connections to the Heartlands was unprecedented for a King of Haense and proved to be a defining point of his reign. Raised in Mardon and well-connected with the southern nobility, the young monarch was thought to be more comfortable in the warm, colorful courts of Auguston and Metz than he ever was in the cold, backwards north. He struck up many friendships during his ventures south, most fortuitously with Prince Frederick of House Horen-Preussens, the head of the Horenic scion and perhaps the wealthiest man in all of Axios owing to his abundant lands in the fertile, bountiful lands of eastern Lotharingia. It was the Prince of Pruvia who gave King Stefan a number of loans to finance the rebuilding of Haense and was a key southern ally for House Barbanov during the early years of Stefan’s reign. Another key step in King Stefan’s ‘southern ambitions’ was formalizing peace between Haense and Courland. King Joseph of Courland had effectively recognized House Barbanov’s right over the north by his refusal to attempt to reconquer it after the Archduke of Akovia’s defeat, but it had not yet been made official. The ensuing weeks of negotiations, mostly conducted by Prince Heinrik of Bihar and Sir Louis de Felsen, saw King Joseph’s formal recognition of King Stefan’s possession of all lands and titles that had been taken during the Great Northern War. Additionally, King Joseph’s twin sister, Princess Elizabeth Mariya, was sent north to marry the King of Haense. In return for this, King Stefan gave much-needed loans to Courland to keep its government afloat financially. While hindsight proved King Stefan’s wisdom in his foreign policy in 1613, it did not make him a popular king in his early reign. He had spent most of it in Hochspitze Palace with the Prince of Pruvia and other Lotharingian vassals, dining, hunting, attending balls, and operating his government out of a bedroom he had been given. His coronation in the south, rather than one of the traditional estates of Haense, was another slight, as was his eagerness to make peace with Courland and marry one of its princesses. Many, specifically those who had made up the White Party or were veterans of the Greyspine Rebellion, loudly decried their king’s neglect of affairs in the north. Towns had been burned, including a capital that had yet to be rebuilt. Much of the unapportioned land in the north was unclaimed, or even worse, claimed by two or more parties. The government apparatus was present enough in the south, where it established embassies in Mardon and Metz and had garnered recognition for an independent Haense across the world, but back in the northern realm law and administration had been left to local rule. Hochspitze Palace, home of the House Horen-Preussens in Lotharingia, c. 1609. Stefan I spent at least five winters here during his reign and visited twenty two times in all. Although officially owned by his friend, Prince Frederick, he was given considerable say in renovations and expansions to the palace. To further these difficulties, a small revolt broke out in Turov led by Andrei Kovachev, brother of the late Archduke of Akovia. This rebellion was bloodlessly put down by Captain Harren, who had Andrei executed, but in the aftermath he loudly questioned why the newly-elected king was spending more time in the south than he was back in his home where there was serious work to be done. King Stefan was not ignorant to this, and in the summer of 1613 he returned north, perhaps wishing to stave off any ambitions by House Ruthern or others even more than he desired to truly rule there. Still, at the urging of Prince Otto and Prince Heinrik, he established his court in Metterden and turned his focus towards settling domestic matters. He left Prince Heinrik in Lotharingia, where he would stand as his cousin’s proxy for his wedding with Princess Elizabeth, but otherwise he brought most of his court back to the north with him. In Metterden, the king made up for his neglect by working furiously to rebuild his realm, perhaps with greater diligence than a King of Haense has ever shown. He spent weeks settling various land disputes, confirming titles, granting abandoned castles, towns, and other lands to key supporters, and ordered the reconstruction of all estates and settlements that had been damaged during the war. Fatefully, he cemented the loyalty of House Ruthern by confirming the possession of all lands that they had occupied during the Greyspine Rebellion. This angered many, foremost among them Duke Sergei of Carnatia and Marquis Petyr of Vasiland, who both stood to lose the most from this, but they had neither the allies nor the manpower to leverage any sort of weight. The end of the prominence of Kovachevs and the Vanirs, two of Haense’s oldest families and key parts of its early history, was solidified at this moment. They would continue to occupy places in Haense’s nobility, but never again would they play any decisive role in history. On the 14th of Horen’s Calling, 1613, King Stefan was married via proxy to Princess Elizabeth in a large ceremony in Hochspitze Palace. In an odd display, nearly all of the Heartlands nobility, from the King of Mardon to the nobles of the Crownlands, were present for this occasion. The only person absent himself was the groom, who was far away in Metterden finalizing the establishment of a new capital at a place called Camp Alban, located at the base of House Ruthern’s seat on the Greyspine Mountains. The origins of Camp Alban, which would later become the City of Alban, is hazy. It seems to have its origins as a logging camp along the southern border of Haense, close to one of the roads leading to the Heartlands. From here, a trade town grew around it, which later became a military outpost. It was overrun by King Tobias’ army during the Great Northern War before its occupation by House Ruthern in 1609. Possessing room for growth, strategically located, and along a thriving trade route, Camp Alban was an ideal location for a new capital. By late summer of 1613, construction had begun for a palace and city that would become the new seat of House Barbanov and the Haeseni Crown, but it would not fit the court of Haense for some time, so King Stefan remained at Metterden where he could overlook the construction’s progress from the ramparts. The busy year of 1613 came to a close with Queen Elizabeth’s arrival in the north alongside Prince Heinrik. The young king was recorded to be “....thoroughly excited to meet his wife, and throughout the weeks leading to her arrival he planned a number of festivities for his queen’s entry. He commissioned a number of paintings of her, and he told all his courtiers that he had been told that she was the most beautiful, lively woman in all of Axios.” Whether misled or lying himself, King Stefan’s words were far from the truth. Upon her arrival in Haense on the 19th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1613, the vibrant decorations and luxurious fairgrounds that greeted her could not mask the unenthusiastic reception from the people of Haense. King Stefan may have been working hard to repair his reputation, but it did not mean that a Staunton, much less a Staunton queen, was going to be embraced with open arms. One would assume that Queen Elizabeth’s reputation would improve with time as her husband’s did, but this was unfortunately not the case. The nobility understood the strategy behind the marriage, so they acted courteously in her presence, if never warm. The soldiers, peasants, and lower classes of the realm were a different story. To them, she was the living embodiment of the continued grip that Courland had over Haense. Thousands had died to try to keep the north free from the conqueror, and thousands more had died to free it from his son, but no punishment came from House Staunton itself. Instead, they had been rewarded with the greatest honor that they could have possibly been given: the queen. King Stefan’s initial excitement and enchantment with his wife also quickly extinguished. Queen Elizabeth had been given a modern education in Aleksandria, where she was well-tutored in politics, history, and government, and for her efforts she was a prominent advisor for her brother and a close counsel for him. This clashed greatly with the far more conservative courtly apparatus of Haense, where she was expected to be a quiet, pious matron and mother. Her acerbic wit and refusal to conform to the traditions of the realm angered King Stefan. The young king barely tolerated being contradicted by his own councilors, but to ever have it come from his wife was an insult that dug deep within him. Within a month the couple took to separate bedchambers, and soon the Queen of Haense, like her husband, sought every excuse she could to go south, away from the north and to the courts and salons where she would not be rebuked for trying to voice her opinion on the affairs of the world. This frigid marriage, ”colder than any northern gale.” as put by one of the king’s secretaries, Ludvik Poetl, did little to dent Stefan’s high spirits. Without a queen to build a court he did so himself, and he imported many traditions and fashions from the southern halls he had so often frequented. There was some resistance to this, but many of the higher nobility had been with him for years in exile, so they readily took up the traditions of Metz and Mardon and incorporated them in the Haeseni courtly apparatus. A fine dancer and an energetic conversationalist, King Stefan was a lively participant in the many balls, festivals, and tournaments that he often personally organized and hosted during his reign. By 1614, the winds of Axios had changed again. In the south, rebellion in western Lotharingia had taken King Hughes by surprise and pushed his forces back to the gates of Metz. In the old Crownlands, petty lords and robber barons feuded and fought, as there was no central authority to govern them all. Courland had begun an ill-advised expansion into the interior of Asul, which strained its thin resources further than it could afford, leading to an economic collapse. From his calm seat in Auguston, King Peter of Mardon observed the scene with an eager eye. He sent word to his elder brother, Prince John Frederick, who had been quietly living in exile in the Kingdom of the Westerlands for all these years, that an opportunity to restore the Empire had now presented itself. Over the next few months, John Frederick went around the courts and keeps of the Heartlands, making his pitch to restore the Empire to any lord or lady that would hear it. In this time of great tumult and uncertainty, a return to the days of the Johannians was much-desired. King Hughes of Lotharingia, most of all, hoped that with a new Empire could come the protection and military aid he so desperately needed to fight off the rebels of House Romstun that threatened him. On the 14th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1614, John Frederick was crowned Emperor John V in the court of Auguston, bringing the Heartlands under his control. His successive campaign in Lotharingia was less successful, but by the summer of 1615 he was openly courting Haense to follow suit. King Stefan was eager to take advantage of this, even if the rest of his council harbored some concerns. It was obvious from the outset that John V was not made in the mold of his Johannian predecessors, nor was his realm anything close to the power that John III had boasted two generations ago. By tethering itself to a weak Empire, Haense would be thrust into the intrigue and politics of the south to a greater degree than it had before, and with that would come all the consequences. Of course, to King Stefan this all sounded like music to his ears, and he knew that a strong Haense could leverage its place in a weak Empire far more effectively than before. He agreed to pledge his fealty to John V and send an army south, but in turn demanded extensive trading rights, tax exemption, and legal autonomy within his kingdom’s borders. The Emperor, desperate for assistance, agreed without haste, and so on the 2nd of Sun’s Smile, 1615, the Kingdom of Haense officially took its place back in the Holy Orenian Empire. It must be noted that at this time, King Stefan’s brother-in-law, King Joseph of Courland died of a burst belly. His young son, Henry, took the throne, but a regency, this time held by one man, Prince Frederick Staunton-Baden, a brother and senior general of the late King Tobias. Desperate to resolve his kingdom’s dire finances, Prince Frederick dissolved the Kingdom of Courland and had his great-nephew take the title ‘Prince of Evreux’ in exchange for vassalization by Emperor John V and the assumption of House Staunton’s debts by the Imperial Treasury. To fulfill his end of the agreement, King Stefan sent an army south led by his uncle, Prince Otto, to aid the floundering Imperial campaign in Lotharingia. Little fighting was done, but this show of force was enough to convince House Romstun that a favorable peace was in their interests. They pledged direct fealty to John V and laid down their arms in exchange for tacit permission to flay King Hughes alive. Reluctantly, the Emperor agreed to these terms in order to bring peace to his new realm, and so the King of Lotharingia who had been so instrumental to the Greyspine Rebellion’s victory, was killed on the 18th of Harren’s Folly, 1615. The Emperor’s mishandling of the rebellion, and his willingness to allow the execution of one of his vassals unpunished, did not inspire confidence among his subjects, least of all King Stefan. Although he had been raised in the court of Auguston, and was a friend of King Peter of Mardon, he was little-impressed with the heirs of the Fifth Empire. Over the next few years he devoted himself to strengthening his own realm. Under Prince Heinrik and Captain Harren’s leadership, the Haeseni army professionalized and grew, giving the king a reliable force of his own again. It was tested during a series of riots in the fall of 1615 by farmers protesting low wheat prices, which they blamed on Queen Elizabeth. The new army was able to quickly and effectively put these down. By 1616, enough of the City of Alban had been built for King Stefan and his court to move there, even if further construction happened around them daily. Taking residence in the Esenstadt Palace on the western end of the city, the king and his court began the process of shifting power away from the seat of House Ruthern and towards that of House Barbanov. The presence of the royal court gave the city a much-needed stimulus, and over the next few years thousands moved to the new capital. By 1619 construction had finished, the Esenstadt Palace was completed and christened, and Alban had grown to be the largest city in all of Haense. Around this time, a daughter of a local burgher in Alban caught the king’s eye. In part by the king’s own insistence, the woman’s surname is not known, only her first: Agafokliya. The pair fell in love by 1617, and it was said that this burgher’s daughter was closer to a consort than Queen Elizabeth was. Agafokliya, owing to her station, was never allowed anywhere near the circles of the Haeseni court, nor was she officially recognized as King Stefan’s mistress, but the pair often danced at public festivals, and on occasion they could be spotted together in a tavern or during a hunt in the woods. In 1620, Agafokliya bore Stefan his only child that would live past infancy, a boy named Jakob Ludvik, who would come to be the progenitor of the House of Ludovar. This was the case because Queen Elizabeth failed to produce an heir. The royal couple hardly spoke to each other, much less shared the same room, and as said by Prince Heinrik, “the lifeless marriage between the two birthed children that inherited this disposition.” Prince Heinrik, a loyal Palatine and soldier to his cousin, would no doubt have been executed had these uncharacteristically cruel words been overheard by anyone other than a water-carrier with a reputation for lying. The couple’s first child, a girl named Viktoriya Katerina, was born in 1617 but died three months later from consumption. Their second, a boy named Petyr Karl, was born a year later, but came out stillborn. Neither loss seemed to trouble the monarchs too greatly, but after that they only saw each other in passing, as Queen Elizabeth spent more time in the courts of the south than she did in Haense. In a rare trip back north on the 17th of Sun’s Smile, 1619, she and her party were caught on the road by members of Clan Blackwood and killed. King Stefan did not shed a tear at the news, but he issued a challenge of a duel to Viktor Blackwood, the patriarch of Clan Blackwood. In the first of his many famous duels in his life, King Stefan, a fine swordsman, slew his foe. He then ordered the manor of Clan Blackwood to be burned and the principal conspirators executed. This was perhaps the kindest deed he had done his late wife, and it made up for his short, uninspired speech he gave at her funeral a week after her assassination. People of the Rothswood clans being investigated by a Haeseni patrol for suspicious activity, c. 1614. In the aftermath of the Greyspine Rebellion and the National Duma of 1612, the Rothswood became a hotbed of dissident activity from those who felt that their loyalty had been taken for granted. While it rarely escalated to violence, at times tax collectors and surveyors were attacked while traveling in the region. As this was happening, King Stefan had not lost sight of his ‘southern ambitions’. In 1616, a series of letters between him and King Peter of Mardon surfaced, detailing a conspiracy to depose John V. The Emperor, powerless to act against them, instead gambled on turning the forces of the Empire outwards. Rebellion had broken out in Evreux and Prince Frederick had requested the aid of his liege to put it down. In the winter of 1616, the Emperor ordered all of the vassals of Haense to assemble in Adelburg, the restored Imperial capital. King Stefan maliciously obliged, assembling a force of two thousand under the command of Prince Otto, perhaps a third of his true strength, but he wisely joined the army in person to quell suspicions. King Stefan’s role in the disastrous Santegian Rebellion is as hotly-debated now as it was back then. Some, adhering to The Debacle of the Santegian Campaign, the seminal work of James FitzJames, an officer in the Imperial army at the time, accused the King of Haense of having deliberately weakened the Imperial host alongside the other vassals of the Empire. He and Prince Otto were slow to follow orders, at times resisting them outright, and barely pretended to cooperate with the Imperial high command during the war. They did not arrive on Asul until four months after the main Imperial host, and even then they went around raiding separately from the main body. King Stefan was late to arrive at the Battle of Castell in 1618, where John V’s host was shattered and routed back to Trier. At the Siege of Trier itself, Prince Otto directed the army outside of the walls of the city, where it occasionally skirmished with detachments of the rebel Santegian army. When the defeat of the Imperial army at Trier became an inevitability, the King of Haense and his host boarded their ships and returned home, hardly losing a man in the whole affair while the Emperor and his army perished at Trier. In 1620, Prince Heinrik published a response to James FitzJames, titled A Defense of the Conduct of Prince Otto and of His Majesty During the War in Evreux. In it, he accused Emperor John V of outright incompetence and revealed that Prince Otto had in fact written to the Imperial war camp, begging them to not engage in direct battle with the Santegians. The Imperial army was ill-equipped, poorly-trained, and far from a functional force to wage a campaign. Knowing that following them would mean the death of the Haeseni contingent, Prince Otto faithfully led the army in a number of successful smaller battles and raids. The Emperor’s defeat at the Battle of Castell and retreat to Trier would have only been made more disastrous if another host had entered the city, draining it of much-needed resources. It was a sounder strategy to position the Haeseni army outside of the besieged port, where it could effectively harass the Santegian army. By the time of the siege’s end, King Stefan knew that the destruction of the Imperial army would have disastrous ramifications back home, so he made the decision to withdraw not to save himself, but to save the Empire. Following the disastrous Santegian Rebellion and the death of John V at the Siege of Trier on the 8th of Tobias’s Bounty, 1619, King Stefan made for Adelburg and occupied it with his army. This proved to be a wise decision, news of the Emperor’s defeat and the loss of all Imperial holdings on Asul sparked riots throughout the Empire. Without a garrison, the capital would have been at the mercy of the mobs, but Prince Otto and the Haeseni army kept order. When Prince Robert of Marna, the former Emperor Robert II, tried to make a ploy for the Empire, it was King Stefan who had him arrested and briefly installed himself as the de facto Lord Protector until King Peter of Mardon could arrive to assume the throne. This was done on the 31st of Tobias’s Bounty, 1619, and as the year closed the new Emperor Peter II rewarded the decisive action of his loyal vassal with several jewels from his late brother’s collection and a number of estates in the Heartlands. While the Santegian Rebellion had been a loss for the Empire, it was a great boon for King Stefan who had now proven himself to be the dominant political and military power in the Empire, even above the Emperor himself. It made him a popular man with much of Haense, save House Ruthern, which still held strong loyalties to the wider Empire and fellow southern vassals. Captain Harren of Metterden acted most drastically, resigning from the Haeseni council, his post in the army, and joining Peter II’s government in Adelburg as a senior military advisor. Count Vladrick was not so temperamental, but he did hint to his liege that he would not stand by any talk of outright rebellion. King Stefan did not immediately return home after this brief succession crisis, and instead he sent the army back north while he traveled to Lotharingia to see his old friend, Prince Frederick of Pruvia. Remaining in Pruvia for a month, King Stefan and Prince Frederick arranged a most fortuitous arrangement for the realm. Knowing that the winds were shifting against Lotharingia, which had experienced a number of assassinations, small rebellions, and other schemes since King Hughes’s death, Prince Frederick arranged for his family’s acceptance into the peerage of Haense in the event of Lotharingia’s downfall. In exchange, he gave Stefan half of his wealth, which included a thousand different manors, shops, vineyards, castles, and other lucrative properties across Axios. Overnight, the Haeseni treasury had reached an unprecedented size. On the 15th of Sun’s Smile, 1620, Stefan fought his second famous duel with Odo d’Amaury, a former King of Lotharingia who had been King Hughes’s predecessor before a palace coup. According to Francis of Geese (or Guise, for Francis’s account can only be found in the journals of Olof of Hedeby, who was infamously poor with spelling), Odo d’Amaury was incensed at the Haeseni king’s sudden possession of nearly a fifth of Lotharingia’s lands, far greater even than its king’s own properties. The pair fought a gentleman’s duel for first blood to decide who would have ownership of a bridge that had been formally bequeathed to the King of Haense, but led to a wheat farm belonging to one of Odo d’Amaury’s estates. King Stefan won this duel handily and severely wounded his foe. King Leufory, wishing to be rid of his troublesome father, did not even bother to send for a medic and allowed him to bleed to death. King Leufroy and King Stefan had a previous history of working with each other. They had both been involved with the initial plot to overthrow John V, then during the Santegian Rebellion they made an effort to cooperate some, even fighting a small battle together in 1617. During Stefan’s occupation of Adelburg in 1619, Leufroy moved in support of the temporary regent by arresting supporters of Prince Robert of Marna in Metz. The two reaffirmed their alliance by arranging a betrothal between King Stefan’s cousin, Prince Otto Georg, and King Leufroy’s cousin, Princess Eleanor Aleksandra. With his latest ventures down south completed, King Stefan returned his attention to matters in the north. He had not set foot in Haense since 1617, when he had left to join the ill-fated Imperial campaign to defend Evreux, but he came to a thriving realm. Prince Heinrik’s competent administration had led to a growth in trade within the kingdom. The Pruvian Inheritance only bolstered this economic expansion, and with its steady revenues a number of ports, bridges, forts, roads, towns, and other pieces of infrastructure were built across the realm. The City of Alban was expanded again to accommodate a swelling population, which had begun to flock to Haense from all over the Empire, owing to the instability of the Imperial regime. This added to Alban a number of artisans, merchants, and craftsmen who only further allowed the capital to flourish. In these later years of his life, King Stefan seems to have had a change of policy when it came to culture and the court. Perhaps due to his distaste towards the weakness of the Heartlands and a need to affirm Haense’s own autonomy, Stefan began to devote more time and attention to emphasizing and promoting Haense’s culture, which had suffered through violent wars of conquest then through the adoption of many traditions from the Heartlands. King Stefan, Prince Heinrik, and Lord Elias Colborn, assembled a commission of scholars and historians to record Haense’s history, find obscure cultural traditions, and piece together the New Marian language. Before the codification under Stefan I, New Marian had been a tongue fragmented by local dialects that descended from mixtures of the Old Marian and Raevir Botch languages along with several others. Because of this, it had been impossible to issue laws or conduct royal business in any language other than Common. This only further muddied the distinction between the cultural spheres of the Highlands and the Heartlands. A lack of a clear distinction had been fine while Haense had been under a strong Empire, but it was clear to all in the court of Esenstadt, not least the king, that the end of the Mardon Empire was a matter of when and not if. After the fall of the Empire in 1595, members of the Canonist Church flocked to Haense, as they faced persecution under King Tobias of Courland, who created a new Church with his handpicked favorites. Monastic communities in particular sprung up across Haense, and they became an important part of King Stefan’s project of standardizing New Marian given their literacy and access to many manuscripts which they could translate. The emphasization of the unique place of Haense among the human realms as the home of all of the Highlanders was almost certainly King Stefan’s impetus for standardizing New Marian. That said, this is by no means the unique consensus, as others point to the king’s lack of familiarity with Raevir Botch and Old Marian, and he could only roughly speak the mixed dialect of the St. Karlsburg region. Over the course of three years, starting in 1620, King Stefan, Prince Heinrik, and Lord Elias Colborn collected all texts containing the broader Marian language, sent out royal agents to every town and village to note all linguistic patterns, and enlisted the aid of a group of monks that specialized in calligraphy. The three men, along with dozens of other contributors, established a formal and universal New Marian language to be used across Haense. Authors, poets, and playwrights were sponsored by the government to promote the use of the New Marian language in the arts, which laid the roots for the Haeseni literary tradition that would blossom several generations later. Troubles on the border confirmed Haense’s need to maintain its autonomy. In the spring of 1620, raiding parties from Norland, taking advantage of the weakened Imperial garrisons in the west, made forays into Haense. Several farms and towns were burned and looted, which prompted the King of Haense to send the reliable Prince Heinrik down to strengthen it. Several more attempts were made from Norland, sometimes so serious that Stefan himself fought alongside his army, but all were repulsed. Proving Haense’s strength, the king was reportedly quite relieved when he heard that the Norlandic raiding parties had begun to focus on the western Heartlands of the Empire, which were weakly-defended. Able to settle into a short period of peace, Prince Heinrik was able to implement a number of military reforms based around the old Carnatian system under Jan Kovachev, which emphasized intensive selective breeding of horses to create an industry that could supply a proportionally massive heavy cavalry wing. This was a sudden departure from the discredited Imperial army structure at the time, which was based around heavy infantry with only light cavalry in support for scouting and harassing maneuvers (this was only nominal- quite frequently, the Imperial army did not have the resources to equip its soldiers properly. Although it was an expensive venture, the Palatine was able to secure the funding to create a number of large stables. Soon, the Haeseni steeds were considered the finest in the known world and were sought far and wide. By 1622, Stefan had also begun a series of reforms within his beloved court. Free from the pressing demands of inter-Imperial relations and border security, he implemented many of the same ‘Haensification’ policies (as they were now being called by southern courtiers in Alban like cultural historian Sir Walter Rowley). The southern ways of dress and court ceremony were discarded, music and instruments had to originate from the north, and New Marian was made the mandated language in all court settings. These changes brought some grumbling from those who had become accustomed to the Heartlander culture that had been imported, but they quickly adapted to their king’s new court rules. King Stefan’s consolidation of power over the court and his establishment of a stronger national identity could not have come at a better time. Emperor Peter II had been even less stable of a figure than his older brother and the Empire was suffering for it. The Imperial army, which had never recovered since the disaster in the Santegian Rebellion, was all but replaced with unreliable, untrustworthy mercenaries. The Emperor himself was unhappily married to a daughter of House Romstun, one of the most notorious of these gangs that had already caused the Empire trouble back in 1614, but in 1623 any pretense of an alliance was shattered when his brother, the Archchancellor Philip Owyn, was flayed in the streets of Adelburg by members of House Romstun. While Peter II’s initial response had been one of indifference, as he retreated into his palace while his brother screamed for mercy, his council urged him to take action. The banners of the Empire were called again, and from reports received from Harren of Metterden, now in charge of prosecuting the war against House Romstun, victory would rely on the ability of the north. In the summer of 1623, an army of six thousand Haeseni led by Prince Heinrik marched south to join the main body of the Imperial army in Adelburg. This Imperial force, around ten thousand soldiers in all, then marched into western Lotharingia, the homeland of House Romstun. After a quick campaign that saw little fighting, the rebellious mercenaries were driven out by an efficient, well-led Haeseni vanguard. By the month of Sun’s Smile, 1624, western Lotharingia was restored to Imperial control, mostly as a result of the Haeseni contribution. The reason that King Stefan had been unable to join his army was because of a swelling around his neck that had onset early in 1623. While he was able to attend to his royal duties with the same diligence as before, he often had to take long breaks and sprinkle brief naps throughout his day, something that would have been unthinkable before. By winter he was bedridden and only rose for mass and to hear reports of Prince Heinrik’s operations in the war against the Romstuns. He was bled, leeched, and drained many times, but his condition only seemed to worsen as a result. Never to be discouraged, he wrote two poems in New Marian meant to help young children learn the language and established a committee to translate Church documents from Flexio to New Marian to be chaired by Lord Colborn. Even in the closing months of his life he worked tirelessly to transform his country’s national identity. After these final acts, he slipped into a coma for two months until he finally passed away on the 6th of Harren’s Folly, 1624. He was twenty six years old and had ruled Hanseti-Ruska for twelve years. He was not awake to hear of his cousin’s victory in Prince Philip’s War, but he likely would have been assured of success. The news he had been receiving was positive and the Haeseni army was perhaps the single most competent force on Axios at that point. As the first King of Haense to die in his homeland, no great procession around the continent was needed. In a well-attended funeral on the 7th of Harren’s Folly, with crowds in Alban numbering in the tens of thousands, Stefan I was interred beneath the Esenstadt Palace. All mourned for the young king, whose death had been expected for months, but was no less devastating. He was a strong, wise ruler beyond his young years, and had he lived to a prime age he certainly would have become one of history’s greatest men. His old friend, Lord Elias Colborn, delivered a eulogy that brought a close to a ceremony that had lasted ten hours. Some of his words have been preserved to today. "There was no certainty that our restored country would prosper as it had before. Were a weak incapable ruler to have been elected to the throne in 1613, we would be suffering the same ills that some states in the south presently are confronted with. Instead, it was King Stefan who guided us. Unburdened by the evils of the past, he bounded forward relentlessly into this new age and made the most of it. He took the fortune of our past and applied it to his designs of the future, which has made us a people united by customs and language more closely than before. Our Haense, emerging from our war for independence, was a blank canvas with which he had painted a most beautiful picture. His successors will need only to follow his example, and our tapestry will be the most magnificent the world has seen.” At a high place of honor in the funeral ceremony was a man who had been burdened by the evils of the past. With no sons or daughters to inherit, the Crown of Hanseti-Ruska would pass to the man who had fought the hardest to see it put upon the head of the Barbanovs again. Prince Otto Heinrik watched his nephew’s body descend into a prepared crypt beneath the Esenstadt with clenched teeth and a stoic demeanor. The last thing he had ever wanted was to rule the north, but when the corpse of Stefan I was sealed shut all eyes would turn to him. Dravi, Stefan I ‘the Strong’ 15th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1597-6th of Harren’s Folly, 1624 (r. 7th of Owyn’s Flame, 1611-6th of Harren’s Folly, 1624) Svyatye Kristof, Yuda i Piyus. Dopuskaem, chtoby my znali, kak Bog nas sozdal. Nikogda ne pozvolim sebe videt' temnotu, no budem videt' tol'ko svet mudrosti i istiny. Pust' Bog tebya blagoslovit. The reign of Otto I shall be covered in the next volume of The Winter Crows.

Johanes van Aert reads the headline and grabs his baton to prepare to engage in strike-breaking operations, but then reads the rest of it and feels happy for his cousin.

Johanes van Aert and his fellow Sonlachians and Rivigrenzians celebrate him getting a new job. @bickando

Galar Ithelanen adds a journal entry beside his notes on the study of the Wild Faith. It is also of interest to me that our last rites come after the death of the recipient. During my time in the court of Augustus, I did not witness, but understood of, the opposite. The burden of sin and guilt weighing upon the human soul must be lifted before one dies, else they may not enter the Skies. This is the case because, in the Canonist Faith, sin is ever-present and accrued constantly. It is an inescapable reality that all mortal souls commit some evil deed, even to the pettiest degree, that requires a cleansing. Father [this is erased] gave me this metaphor: 'A shirt may be washed, ironed, and pressed after use, making it clean and wearable again. However, it is not permanently in this state, and as it acquires grime and wear it must be washed again. It is best that this is done frequently, else the shirt may required extreme, thorough cleansing at best, or may be rendered permanently unwearable at first.' I do not disagree with its inherent premise that all evil is committed, but I find evil to not just be deed and thought, but an immutable characteristic of mortality. I was born with a callousness that will never subside, no matter how I temper it. It is an evil thing, and I have done evil as a result of it, but it is a fixed part of myself and cannot simply be overcome. It exists side-by-side with my bravery in battle, perhaps one of the few qualities that redeem me. It will never be cleansed- it can never be- so I am forced to live with it and make do. Evil in deed is not arbitrary, it comes from defects in the soul, but while ill-deed may be made up for, there is no recompense for rot in the heart. Who would it be given to? One's self? This is why we must be given the rites after death. We cannot expunge the evil that lives within us and plays its part in guiding our actions. We can only live with a truthfulness and try to exercise discretion where possible to do good where our conscience allows it. Our evil, and the deeds that come with it, can never be detached from our life and cleansed away. It is part of the summation of our lives and it must be considered along with the rest as we pass from this world to the next.

Galar Ithelanen writes a small journal entry next to other annotations from Illynora's Way of the Mother: On Marriage. There is another facet to the introduction of marriage that I have observed within our society that I believe may be an imported practice from humanity, but has served our own ends and can be seen to be replicated across the known world. There is a clear divide between those whose every action may be deemed public and those who are, for lack of a better term, insignificant to some degree to be allowed private action. In our culture, we would normally find our relationships to be private, a part of our own lives and choices but otherwise not beholden to the wishes and whims of our wider community. I myself occupy this rung of insignificance and have for some time. With two women and one man, our vows were made with locked spears and our divorce came with death. I, like most other of our kind, have no need for a formalized institution. Yet for those who live in the realm of the public at nearly all occasions, arrangements such as these are impossible. I speak of monarchs and princes and one of high standing in a Seed that occupies some important station. It is at this level that politics must be played. Love cannot be factored, even if it may be present, for the compatibility of the spouse to their station takes precedence. The bond forged in this union is greater than between the two spouses, it ties seeds, perhaps even polities, together (Note: Not as frequent as elsewhere). At a point, monogamy becomes a necessary practice for the elite, else they risk letting the affairs and whims of the private seep into the public, damaging themselves and others. It was a great embarrassment when [this is erased] pursued [this is erased] time chasing lovers and concubines, inciting tensions between them, and turning their esteemed office into a theatrical farse. Let us at the bottom be allowed to enjoy these disgraces.