The_Mad_Skylord

THE DUCHY OF OSETLAND "Glory is the reward of valour." -------- The Duchy of Osetland is a uniquely human realm, surrounded as it is by Dwarves, Elves, Gnolls, Greenskins and Half-Orcs. Though it remains part of the greater Kingdom of Castirmark, Osetland has fiercely resisted any effort made to taint its bloodlines with Orcish blood and, as a result, the Duchy is almost completely human, due in part to the common folks' remarkable xenophobia. -------- The Marble Court holds absolute sway within the borders of Osetland - the peasantry are nearly as pious as they are racist. Practitioners of heretical faiths are routinely rooted out in Osetland - where the Sacred Order of the Golden Tongue is openly welcomed - and Osetlander houses tend to be a riot of religious paraphernalia. While all of the major deities of the Marble Court are widely worshiped in Osetland, the most popular figures of worship are the two Patron Saints of Osetland, Saint Valdemar and Saint Valerian, both Dukes, who were canonised upon their deaths for their great deeds in service to the Duchy. -------- https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BvZhtEqBa-8rthlln508gwOH3zrRu3RdUIpHiKb7BN0/edit?usp=sharing Osetland has ever been a land of chivalry, of honour, of nobility. Ever since Saint Valdemar founded the Duchy after slaying the Red Terror, a wryvern of extraordinary size and might, Osetland has had a strong knightly caste, and strong knightly tradition. It is considered normal for the lesser sons of noble houses to seek status and title for themselves by pursuit of the knightly arts, as Prince Valdemar's original companions did, when they swore themselves to his banner. As is typical of a feudal realm, this knightly tradition is at the heart of Osetland's military tradition, and any Osetlander army is sure to have a strong core of knights, armed and armoured in shining steel, and mounted upon the finest steeds. This shining spirit of chivalry has served Osetland well throughout the years. Saint Valdemar and his descendants used it to drive out the Gnolls, the Orcs, the Goblins, to bring low the Elven princes and to establish the modern borders of the Duchy today, while Saint Valerian and his knights were responsible for saving Osetland in its time of greatest need, by driving out the Orcish invader in the Greymaw War. Osetland is a fiercely independent state, despite its obeisance to the Castyrian Crown, and it has strived endlessly over the years to retain this independence in the face of external threats and pressure from the Throne. Despite this, Osetland has a strangely close relationship to the greater Kingdom of Castirmark as a whole, with a peculiar list of trade laws and agreements, in place largely because of the Kingdom's reliance on Osetland as access to the Valdemere, the north-east's only easy means of trade with the southern Empire. In the modern day, Osetland stands at odds with the rest of Castirmark, a dutiful but reluctant member of an uneasy partnership, born from the end of the Greymaw War. While Osetland has maintained its allegiance to the Castyrian Crown, it has resisted any and all attempts to bring about the Orcisation seen in the northern provinces of the Kingdom, while Castirmark's membership of the Empire is, in part, due to the severe political tension and instability brought about by the Border Wars (wherein the vassals of both Osetland and greater Castirmark engaged in open warfare against each other, allegedly with the secret endorsement of the House of Castaszir-Osetland) and Osetland's intransigent refusal to bring the perpetrators to justice. For now, membership of the Empire has mollified tensions on both sides of the border, but ultimately, the future of relationships between Osetland and Castirmark is something only time can tell. -------- KAZIMIR II, DUKE of OSETLAND, BARON ze TARZESTOR Kazimir II is the only son of the late Kazimir I, a boy of barely 12 who ascended to rule of the Duchy following his father's untimely demise at the hands of a feral Gnollish javelin. While it is yet far too early to tell just what kind of a Duke the boy will be, he already dreams of following in the footsteps of his ancestors, Saint Valdemar and Saint Valerian, and achieving greatness and recognition through martial prowess. Duke Kazimir suffered an unfortunate injury as an even younger child, when he was kicked in the face by his pony. While he survived without an debilitating injury, his nose is flattened as if by a mace, and he has a cruel, hoof shaped scar across his left cheek. JACEK ze MALREZ, BARON ze MALREZ Jacek ze Malrez is one of the leading noblemen of Osetland. Though lesser in title than some of his peers, the Baron's marriage to the late Lady Luiza, Duke Kazimir's aunt, has left him uncle to his young liegelord, who he loves fiercely, following the death of his own son, Jozef. Jacek's close relationship with the young Duke has rendered him one of his chief protectors and regents, which - for now - has put an end to the behavior he is most infamous for. As a border baron, Lord Jacek has gathered notoriety - and a nickname, "Black Jack" - for his vicious and unrelenting raids into Castirmark. While these attacks have never escalated to the scale of the Border Wars, they continue to be a thorn in the side of Castyrian-Osetlander relations. KONRAD ze MORZESTOR, COUNT ze MORZESTOR Lord Konrad is the second member of the Duchy's regency council, and he is also the young Duke's uncle through marriage. Konrad is the premier peer of the Realm, controlling large estates throughout much of the country, and it is little secret that he desires to be name heir presumptive to Osetland, by virtue of his marriage to the Duke's uncle, and by the security of his line, whose future lies in the lives of his two young daughters. Konrad's cause, however, is marred by his blatant unpopularity, and Osetland's strict adherence to the tradition of male inheritance. STANISLAS ze OSETDELL, COUNT ze OSETDELL Stanislas is the oldest son of the late Duke Florian, Duke Kazimir II's grandfather. Unfortunately for Lord Osetdell, he is also Florian's bastard, with no claim to the Ducal title. Despite that, Stanislas was raised as Florian's son, and he has proven to be both an incredibly skilled knight, and a loyal servant of Osetland. With his brother, Kazimir I, Stanislas campaigned against the Gnolls, fought against Elvish incursions in the south, and chased off Orcish raiders in the borderlands. As a result, he has been reward generously for his services, and has made a favourable marriage to the Lady Sasha, a daughter of Mikhail, of the House Irimon. Despite his longstanding service, there is some question as to the Lord Osetdell's loyalty to the young Duke, as he is widely held to be an ambitious man. Intensely popular, Stanislas is currently considered to be best choice to be named as Duke Kazimir's heir presumptive. -------- Southern area on Hell's map. -------- THE KNIGHTS OF SAINT VALDEMAR In the darkest hours of the Greymaw War, when all seemed lost, Saint Valerian rode forth with his most trusted knights, and routed the host of the Red Orc, Vicarus, personally slaying him and scattering his army to the winds. This legendary charge has gone down in Osetlander annals as the pinnacle achievement of the Duchy's knightly caste, and ever since then the greatest knights of Osetland have been known as Knights of Saint Valdemar. While this honour is a title, rather than a dedicated knightly order, the Knights of Saint Valdemar march to war with the livery badges and emblems of both Saint Valdemar and Saint Valerian upon their heraldry, and they are widely regarded as the finest knights yet known to man. One of the honours bestowed upon the Knights of Saint Valdemar is the right to carry the Valdemarion and the Valerianus, two pennants - mounted upon each Saints' lance - that followed the Saints themselves into battle during their lifetimes. To be a Knight of Saint Valdemar is not just a petty honour, however - it is widely believed that the spirits of the Saints themselves follow these warriors into battle, for they have a truly uplifting presence for allied troops, and they inspire dread and fear in all but the most battle-hardened of foes. [Allied troops are inspired in the presence of Knights of Saint Valdemar, whilst enemy troops are unnerved and terrified in their presence.] -------- SAINT VALERIAN'S CATHEDRAL Following the death of Saint Valerian, and his canonisation by the Osetlander clergy, his son - Gabriel I - ordered the construction of an immense cathedral in his honour, to celebrate his saving of Osetland during the Greymaw War. Though the Cathedral took nearly fifty years - and the lifetimes of three Dukes - to complete, it stands now as a truly immense monument to the Saint's achievements. In the years since its completion, Saint Valerian's Cathedral has become renowned for the study of the divine arts, and many mages have been produced in its hallowed halls. [Provides an additional spell.]

THE HOUSE OF VRIZIA "Glory is the reward of Valour." Year 2 of the Third Age Roland sat in his tent, surrounded by his brothers and his liegemen. His rent mail hung from a stand in the corner, and his sword hung carelessly from the back of his curule chair. "We have taken losses we can scarce afford to lose. De Vries is dead, Morton too. Denair has lost a leg below the knee, along with three sons - his fourth is not of any use to me either, being barely fit to lift his father's sword, nevermind don his mail and wield his lance." He glanced out the tent, his brow furrowed, and his expression dark. "Our new friends have made our stay here difficult, and for now, we must withdraw." There were no angry shouts, only a few ill humoured grumbles from the most blockheaded of the company. "We have a good price for the prisoners, which dampens this defeat a little, but we have no choice but to withdraw northwards." In silence, the knights depart, and leave their liege to his brooding. ----- From atop a low hill, Roland looks imperiously out across the vast lands, green and bountiful, that seemed to stretch endlessly along the River Ynn. “It is unfortunate that we were unsuccessful at Tamerick Town” he spoke, to his brother Tancred “but this is a green land, and when we set out from Vrizia, we could not have hoped to find better than this.” He turned in his saddle, to look Tancred in the eye. “This, dear brother, is as good a place to settle as any, I think. We’ve ridden for years, let us now build a nation in this place.” Tancred shrugged, seemingly disinterested in this new plan of Roland’s. “What will you call it then?” his younger brother grumbled. Roland grinned. “Vrizenland.” ----- -More miners are employed. (5000C, 2 B) -Roland leads his followers north, where the Vrizians settle upon the banks of the Ynn. -Filled with wrath and eager to spill blood, the Count of Vrizia leads his horsemen on campaigns against the local villages, intent on forcing them to bend to his rule. 205 Knights, 150 Light Cavalry. (Mod)

THE HOUSE OF VRIZIA "Glory is the reward of Valour." Far to the east, across vast plains empty of life or livestock, through rugged mountain passes populated with creeping, mutated goblins, over mountains swept bare by wind and Ancient wickedness, in dark, dank forests, bereft of light and populated by horrors that still haunt the dreams of Roland, lies a castle, the namesake of his house. It was a grand castle in its day, a tall stone keep, thrice expanded by old Lord Robert, surrounded by a pair of high curtain walls, with a deep ditch circumnavigating it all. It had been a warm place, strangely warm for a castle, heated by the Ancient springs deep within the earth, vast pools of heated water treated by whatever sorcery the Ancients had employed. He remembered it well, did Roland, even now he could see it in his mind's eye - not as it had been at the end, covered in enemy banners, burning, with collapsed walls and strewn with corpses, no, he remembered it's airy grandeur, it's wide open halls, the vast courtyard where he had trained with axe, sword, bow and lance, the rooms where his brothers had been born, where he had been raised. He stood on a tall hill, letting the cold wind blow around him. His eyes were closed, and he swore he could nearly feel the rough hewn stone beneath his fingers, could touch the tapestries, sink deep into the lush furniture his father had loved so dearly, but when he opened his eyes, there was nothing save an open plain, covered in low hillocks. He felt a sharp stab in his heart and, despite himself, tears pricked at his eyes. It had been home, that castle, and its loss was a bitter blow. Still, there was little time for such reminiscing. He glanced to the ground, where he had carelessly cast his sword and helmet, before turning his gaze back to his encampment, in the field below. The tents, once fine pavilions, were patchwork now. The banners and the pennants thin and frayed, the surcoats and livery coats tattered and worn. Still, he reminded himself, the horses had thrived in these open grasslands, and the men were fighting fit too, and that was more important than any number of flags and banners and coats. "We've been in worse states, Tancred." He called to the big, hulking figure striding up the hill, clad in mail, missing an eye and most of his cheek. Tancred, the eldest of his younger brothers, reached the top and sat down in the grass, sprawling in the warm air. Roland smiled, gently kicking his brother as he sat down beside him. "We've managed to find some twelve hundred more men, Roland, nought more than levies, mind." Roland nodded, staring down the hill towards the encampment. "Then we'll march at dawn." He looked to Tancred, and cracked a smile "After all, there's a kingdom to be won!" ------- -Roland employs a new miner. (5kC, 2 B.) -The House of Vrizia rides to war….

THE HOUSE OF VRIZIA When old Robert of Vrizia - oft called a myriad of names in his later life, ranging from the Bold, to the Fearless, to the Grotesquely Fat - first arrived to the castle of Arnlynden, some miles beyond the boundaries of Illesia, he came as but a mere knight, unlanded, with only the smallest of Lances in his service. Within a year of his entrance to the service of the Baron of Arnlynden, he had earned himself a moderate estate, wherein he built a respectable manor he christened Vrizia. It was that year he whelped the first of his twelve sons on the first of his three wives, and his efforts quickly amassed him some considerable wealth and renown. Lord Robert was by nature, however, a discontent man, and his life in Vrizia swiftly became characterised by violence and blood feuds, as he rode against his neighbours, raided their lands, and redrew the boundaries to suit himself. Despite this vicious disregard for the Baron's rule, Robert's prestige - and the surprising number of hardened warriors eager to follow him - discouraged the Baron from taking action. Eventually, Robert found himself usurping Arnlynden, taking land and title for himself. Ever vain, he decided to rechristian his new title, changing the name from the Baron of Arnlynden, to the Baron of Vrizia, and within six months he had already decided to promote himself to a count. Robert's usurping, warmongering ways continued for years, once again focused on his neighbours, and it was in this violent reality that Robert's sons learned their trade, as they grew older, they became adept with lance and sword, and served in their father's service, each gaining their spurs, and their own minor estates. Robert's depredations were not to last forever though, and the House of Vrizia eventually found itself rooted out of its home keep, at the hands of an overwhelming alliance. Old Lord Robert was killed, and the leadership of his house fell to his eldest son, Roland, who led the House westwards, in the hopes of achieving fresh land and title in an undiscovered territory. For years the brothers traveled, and slowly they were abandoned by all but their most loyal retainers, but now Roland, Count of Vrizia, has arrived to the ripe lands of Illesia, and already fighting men flock to his banner..... --------- ROLAND, COUNT OF VRIZIA The firstborn son of Lord Robert, Roland is every bit the ruthless and exploitative robber baron his father once was. Hardened by his father's constant petty wars, and served by a band of loyal and capable retainers - including his brothers - Roland's ambitions are mighty, as he aims to carve out a Kingdom in this new land. Roland is a tall man, thick with muscle from years of wielding sword, shield and lance. Never particularly handsome, his looks have been made worse by the mace blow that crushed his nose, and the many scars that crisscross his face. His hair is black, cropped short, and he sports a short, pointed beard. THE SONS OF ROBERT Tancred Roger Simon John Hugo Paul William Percy Richard James Thomas --------- Vrizian Longbowmen Despite the longstanding preference for cavalry within the ranks of his father's armies, Roland has come to understand the benefits of massed archers, capable of pouring volleys of arrows onto the ranks of enemy troops. In order to provide a plenitude of such troops, Roland has ordained that all common folk in his service train with the longbow, and take to the battlefield as cheap, easily raised and unarmoured archers. [No metal cost Medium Archers] --------- A Lord and his Lances It has long been the tradition that when the knights in service to the Count of Vrizia march to war, each must contribute a Lance to their liege lord's service. For the typical unlanded knight, a Lance is defined as 2 Longbowmen and a Man-at-Arms. This system has long allowed Vrizia to muster capable armies for campaign. [Heavy Infantry and Heavy Cavalry count as knights, and each knight is accompanied to war by 2 Longbowmen and 1 Medium Infantryman.] --------- A Family Heirloom Old Lord Robert discovered, in the course of his travels, an ancient artefact - a signet ring from which he took his coat of arms - this ring is capable of creating earthquakes powerful enough to topple stone walls, and it currently adorns the ring finger of Roland, Count of Vrizia.

A lanky, and rather unfortunate looking, bard by the name of Agamedes puffs out his chest and begins to sing in a fine tenor voice; "Elves they are foul and elves they are rude, Elves are obnoxious, smelly and crude, They are a plague to be thrown from our land, So come all men with sheep-sheers in hand! Throughout our homes these child thieves do stalk, Vicious, stupid and crass in their talk! They oogle our women and our children enslave, Come brothers, all, our homes we must save! Friends if ever an elf at your door you do find, Wait not until he has robbed you blind! Whip out your clippers and claim both his ears, And let the scum know that them we don't fear!"

KONINKRIJK AADRENSVELD-RHYNSLAND Early 1891 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ THE FIRES OF INDUSTRY! RJIKSTAAD'S IMPERIAL FLOATYARDS TAKES MAJOR CONTRACTS! Imperial Floatyards, a prominent, privately owned shipwright located in Rjikstaad, in the Fatherland, has accepted major contracts from the Imperial Sechsian Navy and the Marine Aeronautique d'Acadie. Though this turn of events is unsurprising - given Aadrensveld-Rhynish superiority in ship construction - it has brought huge profits and increased employment to the city of Rjikstaad, which has suffered greatly in light of recent economic hardships and grain shortages. MARRIAGE! HIS HIGHNESS, CROWN PRINCE FRANZ-HEINRICH, TO WED LADY MARIAM OF TYREL! His Royal Highness, Prince Franz-Heinrich van Aadrensveld, is to wed Lady Mariam Kassadan of Tyrel, daughter of the sitting Archduke, in an Autumn ceremony. The ceremony will take place in the Cathedral of Hieromar, built by Heinrich III and located within Coenstaad, and the traditional venue for Royal weddings. Lady Mariam shall spend the remaining time before her wedding in Aadrensveld-Rhynsland, coming to know the country she is eventually to be Queen of. RIVALRY IN THE ADMIRALTY! THE FIRST AND SECOND SKYLORDS EMBROILED IN BITTER CONFLICT OVER STATE OF THE FLEET! A bitter argument has taken hold of the Board of the Admiralty, as the First and Second Skylords bicker viciously over the future of De Koninkrijke Marine. The First Skylord's proposed doctrine of "Strength by Land and Skies" has met bitter opposition from the Second Skylord and his faction, bitter advocates of their own doctrine "Steel Horizon". Steel Horizon advocates the pursuit of total aerial supremacy, by means of the construction of a capital ship focused fleet, while Strength by Land and Skies calls for a mixed balance of power between the Navy and the Army, with the Koninkrijke Marine designed in a manner that will allow the provision of maximum support to Aadrensveld-Rhynish ground forces, in the theoretical scenario of a large scale Continental conflict. MURDER INVESTIGATION UNCOVERS THIRD MURDER, NATION SHOCKED! Officers investigating the murder of two prostitutes from the Reksville slums have recently uncovered the murder of a man known as Fredrik Djik, a known gambler and drunk. The Nationaal Politiebureau continues to investigate both crimes, though there are currently no indications that either murder case is linked. NEW STOCK TRADER OPENS IN COENSTAAD! LADEMANN AND MANES, BROKERS, SEEKS NEW BUSINESS! A new stock trader opens in Coenstaad. Though no governmental sponsorship has currently been offered, Lademann and Manes have already secured the business of major corporations, such as Imperial Floatyards and Slanker Heavy Manufacturing. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Rain. Always rain. The heavy winter rains, filled with frigid snow and sleet, had given way to the spring rains, carrying with them the hope of a new year and new life. There was no promise of life in the air for Major Martin de Coninck, or his young aide, Lieutenant Olaf van Hee. The two officers of the Nationaal Politiebureau strode silently through the heavy streets of Reksville, fine uniforms and raincoats covered with mud, and worse, as they made for their destination. "Down here." Called van Hee, gesturing to an alley, which lead to a number of hovels that the wealthy factory owners who owned them called "tenements". Both drew their revolvers, and the Braun & Jannsen Model 1882s glistened wetly in the endless sheets of water. They neared a door, and Major de Coninck rapped it smartly. They had been directed here by a pimp, known as Big Bjork, who owned a brothel down on the Diddler's Way. Two of Bjork's girls had been killed in what appeared to be the actions of a serial killer, and the man who lived here was a known regular of both girls - occasionally at the same time, when the thoroughbreds had been good to him. "Mr Djik?" Called de Coninck, rapping again "Please open the door, Mr Djik." Silence. Coninck steps back, readying his weapon, and nods briskly to his young aide. With a flurry of soaking oilskins, van Hee kicks the door open, the lock bursting out of the light timbers, and the policemen step inside. Immediately, both are hit by a dreadful stench, and they choke on the scent of soaking, rotted purification. They proceed to the next room, where they find what remains of Djik, lying in a puddle of crusted, dry blood, a bloated, maggot infested and half eaten corpse. Coninck crouches down, and lifts a shell beside the corpse. "Not very professional." He tucks it into a pocket. "Run down the street, Mr van Hee, best call the Staadspolitie, have them lock down the street. We shall need to interview every neighbor we can lay our hands on." Van Hee runs out the door, and de Coninck walks around the room, casting an eye around the meagre furnishings and the even more meagre possessions. With van Hee gone, he takes the shell out of his pocket again, feeling a chill as he does. He couldn't be sure, but the Major could almost swear that the shell was from a police issue revolver. He frowned, adjusted his hat, and stepped back out into the rain. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ACTIONS -A survey of the local habitants of Vriesia is undertaken. If possible, Aadrensveld-Rhynish agents are instructed to thoroughly map the area, and make contact with the local tribes. -Celebrations across the country! With the establishment of Vriesstaad in Vriesia, the Government declares ownership in full of the new continent, and designates it as the Protectorate of Vriesia, to be administered by the newly appointed Kommandant-General, Rear-Admiral Rudolph Broeker. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ FINANCE -2 new colonies are founded (8 M, 60’000 Kreuens) --Vriesstaad in Vriesa --Zoetveld in Middeiland -2 new Civilian Districts are built in Coenstaad (2 M, 20’000 Kreuens) -3 new Material Industry. (30’000 Kreuens) - 6 Vitriol, 3 Coal sold -12 Destroyers and 2 Light Cruisers are commissioned on behalf of Sechsia. (60’000 Kreuens Build Cost, compensated with 74’400 Kreuens.) -3 Heavy Cruisers and 3 Destroyers are commissioned on behalf of Acadia. (67'500 Kreuens, paid by Acadia.)

KONINKRIJK AADRENSVELD-RHYNSLAND Summer, 1890 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ MURDER! TWO DEAD, SIGNIFICANT POLICE INVESTIGATION UNDERWAY! Two bodies were discovered in the Reksville slums, in the city of Coenstaad, Friday last, at three pm. While the Coestaad Staadspolitie (CSP) initially declined to comment, the case has since been taken over by the Nationaal Politiebureau (NPB), who have confirmed that both victims died as a result of strangulation by garrote. Believing the deaths to be the work of a serial killer, the NPB have opened a full investigation, under the command of senior police officer, Major Martijn de Coninck. WAAKZAAMHEID DISCOVERS NEW CONTINENT, DE VRIES TO BE COMMENDED! The discovery of a new continent by ZMS Waakzaamheid earlier this year caused great jubilation and celebration within the nation - while the pride of the fleet, Waakzaamheid, and her commanding officer (Mikhail De Vries) are to remain on home station until further notice, ZMS Osterhoudt has been dispatched to further explore the new territories. This new discovery promises to usher in a new era of wealth and prosperity to Aadrensveld-Rhynsland and De Vries, Captain of Waakzaamheid, is to be commended with a knighthood. Furthermore, this new continent was officially designated as “Vriesia”, by Parliament in the last sitting. TREATY OF RJIKSTAAD FALLS THROUGH, EASTERN KATSUMORE-AADRENVELD-RHYNISH RELATIONS COOL! Talks with the Eastern Katsumore Clan collapsed early this week, as the delegates of Katsumore Iwamoto to the Rjikstaad talks opted to reject generous treaty terms out of hand. Tensions heighten as territorial concerns increase, and the First Skylord calls for further naval rearmament. FIRST SKYLORD CALLS FOR RENEWED NAVAL REARMAMENT PROGRAMME, IN LIGHT OF TANNIC AGGRESSIONS! Admiral Frederick Pijlmann, the First Skylord of the Admiralty, calls for renewed funding for a major naval rearmament programme, in light of recent Tannic aggression on the Continent. In an exclusive statement to the Varsthaven Gazette, Admiral Pijlmann said; “While I acknowledge there is little desire within the nation for interference in strictly Continental matters - excepting, of course, the needs of our allies in the Jena Pact - recent diplomatic and political developments make it vital for the swift rearmament of De Kroninkrijke Marine, which has been woefully understrength since the Reform of ‘84 decommissioned the Navy’s older, pre-dreadnought battle fleet.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Summer rain tinkled down rooftops and rattled through old, rotted drain pipes as a pair of tall figures strode through the muck and filth of the Reksville slums. Both wore the black jackets and white breeches of Nationaal Politiebureau Officers, and both hunkered under their heavy rain cloaks, desperately trying to ignore the rancid smell of the foulest, poorest slum in the capital. “Where were they found?” says the older of the two men, carefully inspecting each crime ridden alley way as he moved along. “In alleys down the Old Street, Dhr Major,” replies his aide, a police lieutenant known as Olaf van Hee “both were prostitutes, relatively young, undiseased.” He struggles through the muck, slipping slightly as he tries to push his rain cloak out of the way, so he can reach the notepad in his pocket. “Marguerite and Katrin - both called Voorgeld, but unrelated to each other. They both worked for Big Bjork Bjorkson down on the Diddlers’ Way.” The Major chuckles a little. “Of course they were both called Voorgeld. I suppose it’s a pragmatic name for women in their line of work.” The pair of men finally turn a corner, and the grim, ugly and smutish Diddlers’ Way comes into view. About halfway down the street, the two NPB officers find the sign they’re looking for - faded black writing on a cracked white background, reading simply “BIG BJORK’S BJORKERY”. Without wasting any more time, the Major, and Lieutenant van Hee, step inside, taking off their hats as they do so. As they step through the ancient, half rotten door, a rotund little man comes hurrying down the steps to greet them. “Officers, officers, it is unusual that we have custom so refined as yours down here, but worry not I shall send you the cleane-” “We are here on police business.” snaps Lieutenant van Hee, looking thoroughly offended “Are you Big Bjork Bjorkson?” The old man gives an uneasy kind of a laugh “No, no, I am Little Bjork, his father. Please, come through, my son will make time to see you now!!” He sidles towards a door, opposite a rickety staircase, with a plaque reading “OFFICE” in cracked lettering. Shifty, weasley eyes examining them as he opens the door and hurries in. “Come in! Come in!” The Major and the Lieutenant step through the door. Sitting directly opposite them is an enormous, muscle bound mountain, crammed in behind a cheap desk, sitting on a rickety chair, with reading glasses perched on his nose, and a typewriter carefully sat in front of him. “Big Bjork Bjorkson, I presume” calls the Major as he steps forwards “I am Major Martijn de Coninck, I have a few questions for you….” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ACTIONS -A second expedition is sent to do a more thorough exploration of these new territories. While ZMS Osterhoudt and her screens are instructed to remain within relatively easy distance of home, the warship and her escorts begin the exploration and categorisation of the surrounding areas, seeking areas abundant in resources, points of interest or native life. (Mod) -A delegation is sent to the Archduchy of Tyrel. The envoy seeks a suitable bride for Prince Franz-Heinrich van Aadrensveld, the eldest son of King Bartholomeus III. While this envoy would rather a bride from amongst the ruling Archducal Family, he is instructed to consider brides from the lesser aristocracy, provided they are accompanied by a suitable dowry of either coin or some kind of equivalent assets. (Mod) -New security concerns prompt the Chancellor, Johann Frederick van Alfrenz, to establish the Kantoor van de Nationaal Veiligheid (KNV), or the Office of National Security. The newly founded KNV begins to fill its ranks with talented officers from the army, navy and police forces. (4700 Kreuens) -The National Treasury takes a loan of 20'000 Kreuens from the Bantu baseZulwini. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ FINANCE -6 Civilian Districts (60'000 Kreuens, 6 M) --1 Coal CD --4 Vitriol CDs --1 Luxuries CD -2 Material Industry (20'0000 Kreuens) -20 NP sold

KONINKRIJK AADRENSVELD-RHYNSLAND 1890 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The sun slowly rose, creeping inch by inch over the distant horizon, casting long shadows on the deck of warships as it rose slowly through the morning clouds and mist. Silent, oilskin-clad airmen raced across that slippery surface, barely faltering as they rushed to clear for action, as a shrill, piercing whistle cut the chill air. As the crew finished their preparations, one of their number - a groundsman, not yet even considered as Able - slips, hitting the deck hard and slipping violently across the steel floor. He lets out a shrill scream as he nears the edge, before being hauled violently to a stop by his safety harness. Harsh, abusive hands quickly pull the fool to safety. From the experienced hands, he receives no sympathy - the grounder had destroyed their division's time. Finally they reach the hatch that leads them into the steel belly of the vast beast, just as the guns begin their slow mechanical whine, rotating clockwise to a target off the port side. "Three minutes and eleven seconds, Captain." Reports a prim young Lieutenant with a pocket watch. The Captain, Mikeal de Vries, shakes his head, clearly irritated. "This is Waakzaamheid, Mr Janssen, three minutes and eleven seconds to stow the upper decks for action is far too slow - this is Waakzaamheid, and we are De Kroninkrijke Marine." He turns to look out the glass on the bridge. "Let us see if our gunnery is any better - have the guns fire as they bear." As the vast metal behemoth, now fully risen above the clouds, finally sights her target - an ancient, anchored hulk, once the battleship ZMS Vermetel, now used only as a gunnery target, her systems totally outdated. An enormous plume of fire streaks from the muzzle of the gun, and earth shattering noise follows the colossal explosion. The Gunnery Officer, in the prow turret, seizes a telephone as the shot misses, and listens intently to the instructions relayed to his over the phone. "Correction! 2 degrees starboard, 1 degree elevation!" Another shot roars from the enormous guns and, four kilometres of empty sky away, the shell strikes the midships of Vermetel and an enormous explosion rocks the aging vessel. Captain De Vries nods, pleased. Their gunnery was quick, and effective. "Mr Janssen, as officer of the watch please instruct the Wardroom that they are invited to dine with me tonight - it is only right for a new Captain to entertain his officers." As Janssen nods, De Vries leaves the bridge, stepping downstairs into his stateroom, where he carefully breaks open the letter with his orders, and reads the command written within.... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ACTIONS -As the year begins, Waakhaamzeid and four destroyers are instructed to make a short routine patrol to the south-west, to investigate reports of a new continent, close enough to the Homelands to be easily influenced. Waakzaamheid, precious as it is, is instructed not to go far, and is ordered to run at the sign of any significant trouble. (Map in Discord) -The Archduchy of Tyrel is invited to open an embassy in the capital of Coenstaad. (Mod) -A small patrol is sent into the Coenstaad Caverns, where they are instructed to begin exploring and mapping the tunnels. (Mod) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ FINANCE -4 Material Industry (40'000 Kreuens) -20 NP sold to the market (80'000 Kreuens from sale) 52700 Kreuens saved

Koninkrijk Aadrensveld-Rhynsland Capital: Coenstaad Official Languages: Thuis Praten-Natie, Lingua Herin Religion: Het Statsgelooft (87%), Hieromaric Church (8%), Miscellaneous (5%) Government: Semi-Constitutional Monarchy Head of State: Bartholomeus III Van Aadrensveld ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Kingdom of Aadrensveld-Rhynsland is a semi-constitutional monarchy, with an elected lower house of Parliament. Though Parliament bears responsibility for many aspects of national decision making, it is the King who holds executive authority. The chief officers of the state are selected by the King, who can appoint and dismiss these officials at will. Furthermore, the King serves as Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces, and is the primary decision maker in regards to foreign politics. Aadrensveld-Rhynsland is a prosperous, if small, nation, on the path of rapid industrialisation. Isolated for a significant portion of its history, Aadrensveld-Rhynsland only opened itself up to the world following the discovery of airships in 1791. Since then, Aadrensveld has been embroiled in a technological, social and industrial revolution. Aadrensveld-Rhynsland has undergone rapid urbanisation since the first opening of the country to the outside world, and the state has quickly turned from an agrarian, farming and rural based economy, into a fully industrialised state. Furthermore, as industrialisation has become more and more prevalent in the country, the desperate need for materials has also increased, which has led to many within the upper levels of government turning their eyes outwards, to the newly discovered New World. This new colonial focus meshes well with the government’s primary military focus – defence of the Fatherland by means of overwhelming airpower. Aadrensveld-Rhynsland has spent much of its history totally isolated and, as such, is not dominated by the Lingua Herin, speaking instead its own, unrelated language – Thuis Praten-Natie, literally “the national talk”. Furthermore, the religious makeup of the country is considerably different to that found in the outside world – in Het Statsgelooft, Hieromar the Progenitor is considered to be a single, all powerful diety, and the existence of the “Saints” and other “Grandmasters” is simply not acknowledged. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Aadrensveld was colonised in the final days of the Conflagration, by a desperate gang of refugees, led by a man called Aadrens. Over time, the nation developed here, under the guidance of the monarchy. In this long period of history, a very narrow strip of safe passage was found from Aadrensveld to the small neighbouring island – named Rhynsland, in honour of the then king, Rhyns I Van Aadrensveld. Since then the nation has persisted onwards, eventually becoming a semi-constitutional monarchy, following a series of major famines in the mid-1600s. Upon this change in government, the current national flag was adopted, featuring the Orange of Aadrensveld and the Blue of Rhynsland. In the early 1800s, the world finally took to the air. It was during this time that the country was finally opened up to outside influences, and since then the country has been steadily modernising, with an extreme burst of industrialisation and naval militarisation during the last decade in particular. Now, under the rule of Bartholomeus III, Aadrensveld-Rhynsland turns its eyes outwards, towards the New World, and the prospect of fresh rich and resources, with which to power its rapidly expanding industrial base, and to further expand the might of De Koninkrijke Marine, the main source of the Kingdom’s power. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Unique Military Units (Max 3): Osterhoudt-class Dreadnought Designed to serve in colonial or convoy raiding roles, the Osterhoudt-class is capable of serving as a main line battleship, as a raider or on independent action. The class is named for Admiral Lord Klaus van Osterhoudt, whose long service and prestigious career ensured his ennoblement following his retirement, and the honour of being named for a line of battle warship following his death. The Osterhoudt-class forms the core tenant in Aadrensveld-Rhynische naval doctrine – detailing a strong, versatile corps of dreadnoughts, capable of flexible action, as the primary wing of De Koninkrijke Marine. 5/5/5 dreadnought Majesteus-class Fleet Carrier The Majesteus-class is a long range fleet carrier designed for rapid strategic movement. Incredibly flimsy and poorly armed, the Majesteus is instead designed to travel immense distances, swiftly, at extreme altitudes, undetected. 5/1/1 carrier, +1 unit capacity Kuiper Sturm SAAG-89 The Sturm SAAG-89, manufactured by Kuiper airyards, is an advanced assault granship, designed specifically to attack enemy airships – capital ships, in particular. The SAAG-89 is equipped with a high power aerial torpedo, designed to punch through thick armour and do the maximum possible damage to the targeted ship. The SAAG-89 is also designed for long range missions, and is capable of traveling a great distance away from its base. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ National Idea: The Steel Horizon De Koninkrijke Marine (The Royal Navy), is by far Aadrensveld-Rhynsland’s primary military wing. The Navy receives most of the focus of the government, and as a result, the nation is home to a great many shipyards, and possesses a great deal of knowledge in the development and production of warships. -1 to capital ship construction time ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Point of Interest: ZMS Waakhaamzeid ZMS Waakhaamzeid is, without a doubt, the largest and most powerful warship in service in any navy in the world. She is faster, better armoured and better armed than any other craft, and is outfitted with enough comfort and luxury to please even the King. Waakhaamzeid serves as both the flagship of De Koninkrijke Marine, and as the Pride of the Fleet. Her duties, outside of her military functions, primarily involve representing the state of Aadrensveld-Rhynsland by carrying the King or the upper ministers on various visits to other nations. As befitting her status, Waakhaamzeid flies not only the naval jack and her Admiral’s pennant, but also the royal coat of arms and the national flag. Waakzaamheid is a unique vessel – she was repurposed from ancient technology discovered in an archaeological dig in Rhynsland. Waakhaamzeid is irreplaceable – unless another such relic of the past could be found, of course. A 6/6/6 dreadnought. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ National Traits: Military – Advanced Logistics Economy 1 – Industrial Giant Society – Coloniser Resource Deficiency – Textiles Army Doctrine – Air Power Naval Doctrine – Capital Ships Economy 2 – Heavy Industry

AGE OF RUIN https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FqtttbbYfSM “Freeholder Infantry, the Battle of Arnau…” Autumn comes to the Broken Coast, as the leaves begin to fall from the trees. It is a cold, wet Fall this year, and heavy rains wash over the war torn region. Bloody conflict persists across the Broken Coast, as the armies of Einzner descend upon New Prospect and lay it under siege. So far, the conflict has been nothing but defeat following defeat for the Coalition, and a Munznenberger Corps is utterly defeated and scattered at the Battle of the Crossing, and a second battle in the region is imminent, as a second Munzenberg Corps moves to engage Iurd. In the north, fierce fighting erupts in Waltberg, as Pithish and Proctish troops engage General Kruger’s Army of the North in and around the city. The Shogunate, meanwhile, continues to do little of note. Einzner continues to fight hard for victory, and fresh Kempennenische corps are raised this year, in and around Volksburg. In Arnau, the last remnants of the Revolutionary Republic is crushed by Bob Kellum and his roving vagabonds. Westmark pushes into the last remnants of Middenland, and lays siege to the remaining stronghold of General Klein, the leader of the Military Authority. In the west, new developments arise, as an expeditionary force from the Concordat marches across the mountains, and claims much of the badlands for themselves. Konigreich Arktis-Munzenberg The Metternichische Freikorps is raised, some 15 thousand green regular infantry, 6 thousand green light cavalry and 5 thousand regular heavy infantry. Telegraph research begins. (Discord) Tsardom of Ligmagrad B7 falls to the Tsar, but B9 resists, as the Church once again rears up its ugly head The 24th Expeditionary Legion A5 is claimed. The lowlands of A4 are claimed, but the mountains are filled with savage, curse ridden madmen, who raid the outposts established every night. Before long, Legionaries are forced to withdraw from the area. There is no problem building railways to neighbouring countries. The Concordat is pleased. (Discord) Westmark Republik Westmark’s war against the last remains of Mittelland continues. Yashida Bakufu The Shogun shall have a basic network of iron roads constructed by Spring 3252. Kawahkwara Shogunate Westerveld receives the ambassador. (Discord) The hunt for magicians begins. (Discord) The Commonwealth The war continues, as Einzner fights hard to crush his foes, one by one.

Wrong sub-forum

Wrong forum guys, this forum is for play-by-post roleplay games. Totally unrelated to LOTC.

AGE OF RUIN “Freeholder Infantry at the Battle of Jamesvale…” Winter, 3250 After the Departure https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2W1Wi2U9sQ As the last leaves wither and fall, the grass dies back. The nights grow long and the days grow short. The few still foolish enough to fight in these months must leave their dead where they lie, for the ground has frozen hard, and burial is no longer possible. Winter has come, and all pray now for the return of Spring. Tragedy strikes in the Kingdom of Artkis, as old King Klaus, respected and revered, finally breathes his last. Ill for several years, the late monarch passed away in his sleep, to the dismay of his lady wife and his four daughters. With neither a son or any close male family, the nobility conferrs in parliament for several days on who should take the Artkis throne. After a week of deliberations, this parliament votes to offer the crown to Reinhardt von Hausser, King of Munzenberg, a powerful neighbour, and also husband to Klaus von Holle’s eldest daughter. Long live the King! Tensions rise in the far west where Mirasol continues to watch the expansions of her two closest neighbours with rising trepidation. Feeling isolated and clearly soon to be surrounded by their unfriendly neighbours, Mirasol takes the drastic action of inviting the Concordat into the country, giving all contracts for supplying the Royal Army and Royal Navy over to the great power, along with signing a number of treaties that invite the Concordat to reform the Mirasolian military. The Triumvirs have finally gained their first foothold in the Broken Coast. Winter has arrived, but that has not stopped the bitter fighting in the Bush War. Though the war is as of yet undeclared, the forces of the Freeholders’ Republic and Middenland met at the small town of Jamesvale for pitched battle, to decide control of the Bush, an inhospitable area of dense trees and harsh brush, separating the two nations. Though the battle was fought in late November, no knowledge of the result has yet spread beyond Middenland or the Freehold, slowed by the coming of Winter. Kempennen says nothing further to the Commonwealth on the subject of Kessler - though their ambassador delivers a rather fiery letter declaring his thoughts on the subject to President Harriman. Despite von Einzner’s silence, the “Tyrant” has opted to heavily man the border between the two countries, and the FIC hears rumours of further military reform, with talk of the Potentate creating a dedicated artillery reserve corps, for army level control of artillery support. Westerveld continues to build their iron road, working hard even in the winter to lay the tracks across the vast, flat plains. In the north, Jan Sharps’ Commando still hunkers down on the border of Middenland, guarding the border from the Veld’s treacherous and warmongering neighbours. Yashida Bakufu Though the war has been painful and bloody, and not short of humiliations for the Shogun and his ambitions, the recent victories against the Jizuru Clan, and the fact Field Marshal Gorou lays siege to Jizu has done much to sanitise the world’s image of Yashida arms, leading to some prestige for the small state. (+2 Prestige) Konigreich Munzenberg With the death of his father-in-law, Reinhardt II von Haussen is invited by the nobility of Artkis to assume the Throne, to rule as monarch and protector of the Konigreich Artkis. (Discord) (+3 Prestige) The King’s scientists report that a working locomotive will be available in the Spring of 3251. Konigreich Zunderland A force of Mujahideen roll down from the mountains and seize the Outsiders bridge in E5, occupying it, in an attempt to cut off the line of retreat for Zunderland’s Royal Army. (Discord) Sugondasigrad The Tsar’s horsemen spend a harsh winter galloping around D1, subduing the mostly empty region’s sparse tribes, who are largely happy to accept the Tsar’s authority, on the off chance it might improve their miserable lot even a little bit. Probably not though, you know how it is with Tsars. The Kawahara Shogunate Kawahara finally finishes its conquests of F33. The rapidly approaching winter prevents the conquest of F32, however, and the army is forced to withdraw into friendlier territories, lest they be exposed to that frigid climate. The Commonwealth Little of note happens in the Commonwealth, over the course of these few months, though Kessler apparently chases off what he describes as “an enemy patrol”, on the northern border. Regardless of what the truth of the incident may be, the General’s claimed victory stands the Commonwealth in good stead. (+2 Prestige) The Kingdom of Procteland Procteland marches into F31, and manage to bring the King's rule to the province. The Vrenian Principality The concert is a resounding success, and musicians of great renown arrive from all around the Broken Coast to play. Even an officer of the Concordat, stationed in Mirasol to train their troops, but a renowned artist all the same, arrives to compete. The most popular performer is an unsponsored man from Soglasigrad, however, and his grand performance is the one that summons the New Year. Pyotr Tchadvoksy plays in the New Year, with an incredibly rousing piece in the Tsar’s honour, concluding in a massive crescendo to the thundering of a dozen 12 pounders rolled up onto the stage (to the shock, and delight, of the concert attendants). (+3 Prestige for Vrena, +2 Prestige for the Tsar.) The attempts to map Klandestan are not met kindly, and the KKK’s Sentinels waste no time in making this opinion known to the trespassers. While they have no weapons fit to actually sink the airships, they quickly take to climbing to the heights of their enormous mountains, and taking potshots with what appears to be highly advanced rifles. A dozen would-be cartographers meet their end this way, and the airships are forced to desist, lest they lose too much trained talent. The Relic arrives to the university safely, and the copy-pasted Felsen character quickly begins her study of it. (Discord) Though Vrena easily subdues C4, it fails to make headway in C5, where it meets heavy resistance from followers of the Church, who appear to be combing the area for something. With neither foot nor artillery available, Vrena is unable to dislodge these zealots. Westmark Republik The actions of Middenland have turned public support in both Westerveld and Westmark against their mutual neighbour. The Parliament of Westerveld is more than happy to accept the Westmarksiche delegation, and are glad to listen to what they have to say. Eidgenossenschaft Middenland All is quiet in the east and the south, with Westerveld and Westmark both petulantly sitting, staring across the border at their near neighbours. Meanwhile, the War in the Bush continues, even through the Winter months... Freeholders’ Republic The war continues in the Bush, and Bob Kellum shows no signs of backing down…. Mujahideen The Mujahideen seize the bridge, cutting off the King’s line of retreat.. (Discord)

AGE OF RUIN “General Ishikawa Kais leads his men across the border into Yashida lands…” Autumn, 3250 After the Departure The days grow colder, the nights grow shorter. The sweet odours of the dying season hangs in the air, as leaves colour and fall, while flowers wilt and die. A short time of haunting beauty comes with the pleasant Autumn breeze, as the harshness of Winter grows ever closer. In the early days of summer, a conflict known as the Fools’ War of 3250 erupted, between the nations of Westmark and Middenland. Though the conflict was short, with both sides displaying criminal cowardice and indecisiveness in their military planning, it still came at a cost of several thousand lives, as the capitals of both transgressors were shelled heavily in the inconclusive fighting. Peace came bare months after war was declared, after Middenland declared the entire conflict to be the fault of Westerveld. Westerveld’s Parliament, understandably upset, has proceeded to denounce Middenland, and to embargo them, henceforth prohibiting the passage of all Mittelandische goods through Westerveld. Additionally, Parliament has cut diplomatic ties with the country, deported any of its citizens and withdrawn its own ambassadors. The divisions of Kommandant-General Sharps’ Commando have been stationed in defensive positions along the border, lest the treacherous Middenlanders attempt to use their false accusations as a cassus belli. Huge fanfare erupts in the ports of the Commonwealth, as the Kesslerische Freikorps and its commander, the dashing and daring General, the Lord, Heinrich von Kessler, Count of Zaunschweig arrives. Kessler accepts commission as a Lieutenant-General in the Commonwealth’s Army, as well as authorisation to raise his Freikorps, in a clear move by the Commonwealth against Joszef von Einzner. Kessler fled Kempennen after the defeat of the Lord Governor-Generals, the old aristocracy of the nation, at the hands of von Einzner after the Battle of Volksburg. As one of the senior most remaining members of that old rebellion, Kessler has sworn to tear down von Einzner’s incredibly popular rule. Since the General’s arrival in the Commonwealth, he has wined and dined his way through half of the city, and has reportedly bedded the wives and daughters of nearly all of the Commonwealth’s senior ministers, in the fashion of a true hussar. Jozsef von Einzner, meanwhile, has reacted poorly to the news, and has issued an immediate demand to the Commonwealth for the General’s extradition, citing von Kessler to be “...a rebel and enemy of the state…”. The Jizuru Clan, victorious against the invading Yashida Shogunate at the Battle of Tsurei, do not cower and wait for the return of the enemy invader. Not long after their victory at Tsurei, Lieutenant-General Ishikawa Kais, long standing servant of the Jizuru Daimyo, leads his army across the border and into Shogunate territory, seeking to inflict a decisive defeat upon their enemies, and to end the war on favourable terms. ---------- Yashida Bakufu War! Following the disaster at Tsurei, the Jizuru army presses on, launching an offensive into Yashida lands during the autumn months! Konigreich Munzenberg Wedding time! Humina humina humina!!!!! The people of these two proud nations rejoice! Konigreich Zunderland The lands to the south (C1) are somewhat less barren and desecrated than the regions around them. They even host a small number of settlements and petty, insignificant nations. Beyond the rocks (A4), they discover the land to be a lawless, barren, waste. Teeming with horribly dangerous creatures, derelict structures half buried beneath the seas of rock, sand, and glass. Among them are small parties of Ruiners who seem to be perpetually picking through this wasteland in search of lost treasures. General Elsteeden marches south, crossing the great bridge before decisively crushing the small tribal confederation which had previously resisted the Zunderlandische in the spring. Unfortunately, they find the area to already be partially occupied by the Mujahideen. (50%) Sugondasigrad The Tsar’s cavalry continues its ride north. Upon entering the targeted region, they clash with a sizable group of Church Clerics, Paladins, and Crusaders, as well as a small horde of their loyal militants already present in the area for some reason or another. The conflict does not escalate into anything beyond a handful of brutal skirmishes, but the Tsar’s cavalry, lacking much infantry support, is unable to pacify much ground. The Church has established itself in a handful of minor settlements and villages, and numbers at least a few thousand. They show no sign of leaving any time soon. Alexei’s Engineers estimate they will have a workable “iron road” for the fall of 3251 The Kawahara Shogunate Envoys arrives from both the Concordat and Kaph. (Discord) Telegrams will be ready by Autumn, 3252. The Pith border appears to be only moderately staffed, by shoddy, poorly trained troops. Fighting continues in E20, and the province is eventually conquered by late summer. Progress in F33 is somewhat reduced by the mountain crossing, and only half the province is taken by the end of summer. The Commonwealth Kempennen demands the extradition of Heinrich von Kessler and the Kesslerische Freikorps. (Discord) The Commonwealth will have a working Locomotive prepared for the fall of 3251. The Kingdom of Procteland The Iron legion marches beyond the western river, claiming yet more land for the Kingdom. Their attempts to cross the mountains are thwarted midway through by a number of small avalanches as well as the emergence of several small groups of thinking-metal soldiers, all reported to bear a “B” insignia. The Vrenian Principality The Queen Amelia Piano Concert appears to be a great success, as it hasn’t actually happened yet! Many private musicians from across the Broken Coast show interest in attending, as well as many from Mirasol. The KKK have yet to reply to this invitation, and many suspect it will probably remain that way. Maps are made to the best of their ability. Klandestan accepts, as does Westerveld. Ass-storm’s division is able to secure and integrate a portion of the wastelands over the course of the summer. During his expedition, his army roots out a small band of Ruiners found excavating an Outsider ruin. They are overpowered in short order, and among their belongings is a Holy Relic which they had apparently uncovered. Ass-storm has it sent back to the capital at once. The team estimates they will have working telegrams for use by fall of 3252. The study of logistics as a science has reached its current peak. The chemists reason they will have a water resistant fabric which could easily be mass produced and issued to the military prepared for summer of 3251. Westmark Republik The Republik will have a working Locomotive prepared for the winter of 3251. The Government’s investigation finds no evidence of foreign involvement in the situation which sparked the brief war between Westmark and its neighbor. Eidgenossenschaft Middenland The Middlandische effort to colonize the bush regressed significantly in the brief months in which their army was forced to withdraw from the area. Torching what holdings they had gained during their retreat does not help matters either. Upon reentering the province, it is clear that the inhabitants of the area are wholly in support of resistance. A full military invasion and subsequent occupation of the region will be necessary. Middlandische engineers estimate their locomotives and railways will be ready for the fall of 3251. Freeholders’ Republic The clever boys up in the science building swears they’ll have Concertina bombs ready for next spring! The boys galavant south into swathes of previously unclaimed bush (E13). Here they find the folks to be in a bit of an uproar about some middle-ladder-ers (a bunch o’ drongos and bogans really) tryna take em all over or some jazz. They say these freeholders seem like nice blokes, though, and the whole province apart from the parts occupied by the Mittelandische have joined the republic. Mujahideen The brave Mujahideen finally break out of the mountains and highlands of the province only to find that the rest of the province has been occupied by strange infidels from beyond the river…. Vyacheslav Confederacy The Confederacy makes little headway in their research. The properties and uses of gunpowder is a rather new rediscovery, all things considered, and they simply do not know of similar substances or even a way to improve the explosive yield.

AGE OF RUIN “Kempennen Cuirassiers charge at the Battle of Volksburg.” Spring, 3250 After the Departure The Broken Coast, a land of wonder, of heartbreak. A land of joy and a land of sadness. A land of conflict, strife and war. A new year dawns, as the late winter snows gently fall upon the lands of a dozen different nations, alike only in one thing - their mutual dislike of their neighbours. For now, however, there is peace in the Broken Coast, as most nations have wintered their men, awaiting the Spring. But Kempennen is not most nations, and for the past two years, the industrial city states of that internecine Confederation have partaken in a harsh civil war, seeking to tear down the reigning Potentate, Josef von Einzner, from his office. The war, already bloody, climaxed in a great battle, outside the town of Volksburg, some miles from the Potentate’s capital at Waltburg. For two days, the fighting raged, until late in the second day, as it drew near seven o’clock, von Einzner ordered in the entire Corps of his Iron Guard, cavalry and infantry both, to shatter the rebel centre. Peace reigns in Kempennen, as the Old Year ends and the New begins. In Westerveld, the good citizens of the country rejoice, as the Parliament unveils the first ever steam locomotive, and reveals plans to build the world’s first rail line, connecting the south of the vast, open country to the north and the east to the west. Westerveld, already an incredibly swift combatant in her home territory, will no doubt gain a fearsome advantage on the defense, once the rails are complete. The Klans of Klandestan do little as the year draws to a close while they skulk in their mountains. On occasion, passers by can see a momentary glimpse of a heavy white robe, before its wearer disappears from sight. The Klans continue to prowl their borders, protecting their Accursed citizens from the vicious persecution of the Church and its followers. The swamp-dwellers of Iurd continue to pray to the Outsiders, ever hopeful of the return of the Gods. Beloved of the Church, primarily because the Church rules the country with an iron fist, Iurd engages in brutal slavery of the Accursed, and harsh, punitive measures for those who step out of line. Sometimes, the Accursed flee, hoping to reach the safety of Klandestan, where they are safe from the depredations of the unafflicted, but usually they are hauled back to the plantations, kicking and screaming, to be made an example of. The Jizuru Clan, bitter isolationists, continue to hide behind their walls and fortresses, leaving their hinterlands only to trade minerals for additional food. This year, however, the granaries hold strong, and no representatives of the Lord of Jizu ride forth to treat with the foreigners. Across the Great Sea, the Sultanate of Kaph eagerly seeks material for her industry. Desperate to make inroads in the Broken Coast, Sultan Abdul commands ambassadors to go forth, to open relations with any nation in the Broken Coast willing to treat with Kaph, promising great wealth and rewards for any who associate themselves with the great power. But the Concordat is not far behind, for they are eager to use the might of their armed forces and the wealth of their nation to prevent Kaph’s ambitions, and to fulfill their own goals in the squalid Broken Coast. ---------- Konigreich Munzenberg A militaristic Kingdom of proud, independent patriots, who love both King and Country. The young King Reinhardt II doubtlessly has a hard road ahead of his, as his small nation is wedged between many others, including both the Maritime Commonwealth, a Republic, and Kempennen, a mighty military industrial power. The young King will need to be bold and fearless and, conversely, wise and cautious, if he wishes to lead his country to triumph. Vyacheslav Confederacy Once the Confederacy was a land of tribes, of savage, barbaric warfare, but that is no longer the case. The Confederacy has been brought together, both by the will of a unifier, and the threat of outside foes. Though they are safe, for now, only time will tell what the nation’s fate will be. Yashida Bakufu A land where tradition meets modernisation. The days of strife were long in the Kingdom of Yamatai, as its leaders sought to raise it out of its archaic, backwards shell, and turn it into a modern, progressive nation. Yamatai is far from backwards now, and it is just as well; for she will need all her strength and cunning to remain strong in the tempest to come. Konigreich Zunderland A proud nation of nationalists, under a beloved King, Sunderland sits along the north coast, nestled by the clear, crystal waters of the Northern Lake. All is not well, however, for the proud nation is near many would be foes, and its safety cannot be guaranteed without strength and valour in arms. The Maritime Commonwealth The second largest of the Broken Coast’s nations, rivaled in size only by the Confederacy of Kempennen, the Maritime Commonwealth wields vast power, by land and by sea, and is more than capable of expansion at the expense of her enemies - but whether she will manage to defeat her foes is another question altogether, for it will take powerful leadership to overcome her stubborn and proud neighbours. Westmark Republik A nation that has only recently seceded from Munzenberg, Westmark is a young country, a Republic surrounded by monarchies and dictatorships, with few allies to call friends. The men of Westmark will need strong sword arms to survive the days ahead. Tsardom of Soglasigrad Soglasigrad, a land of many people, great ambitions and a hideous Tsar. A rich land, Soglasigrad has gained much status from its domination of one of the main thoroughfares from the Northern Lake to the Great Sea, and is unashamed of the tolls it places on passage. But the Tsar and his minions have greater plans afoot, and they gaze out across the plains, looking for their next conquests. Freeholders’ Republic A small nation of outlaws, vagabonds and scoundrels, the Freedholders’ Republic is a place where a man can flee to forget his past, and to spend his days drinking, whoring and gambling. A paradise on earth, really. The Felsen Reich A brutal dictatorship of angry, disease ridden manlet-incels, living in the fantasy equivalent of their mother’s basement. The Felsen Reich hungers to punish the surface dwellers for their sins - but only at night, of course - and greedily aches for territories they consider to be theirs. The Kawahara Shogunate Kawahara is a contradiction - a federal republic ruled by a military head of state. Despite this, the country is modern and powerful, with respectable armies and an excellent reputation amongst nearby democracies. It is, like many, surrounded on all sides by potential foes, and who knows what the future will bring for the people of the Shogunate?

THE AGE OF RUIN __ The World Is Dying The Gods have Abandoned it for their homes behind the Sky The World is Languishing Civilization after civilization rises and crumbles to dust The World is Cursed The ruins and artifacts make us sick and change us But they also grant us power. A world near the end of its existence, broken, dying, and twisted by magic. The better part of all that will ever be has already come to pass, and the ruins of countless eons before are scattered throughout the world like bones on the seafloor. But life goes on, after all, there is still some time left - time enough.. According to legend, the Gods - or the Outsiders, as they are more commonly known, vanished from the world long ago in an apocalypse called the Departure. They have left behind a world in ruin, littered with the wreckage of their so-called eternal kingdom. Once-great civilizations were cast into ruin; humanity, which once traversed the great blackness and worked great miracles under the Outsiders’ supervision now languishes. Now, the Age of Attendance, when gods walked the earth, is nothing but a fading memory; no less mythical than the Deep Past, before the outsiders ever arrived, and now man persists in an endless cycle of bloody horror, as the broken, battered lands and states that remain battle in a ceaseless attempt to control land, resources and ancient artifacts. Once, when the Outsiders walked the earth amongst mortals, mankind traveled the stars in great constructions of steel, platinum, and chrome. His monuments were vast, his achievements mighty. The Outsiders gave to mankind such knowledge and skills as can now only be dreamed of, and with these gifts, man built a utopia upon the earth, a society of incredible, unimaginable technology, a world of compact, seamless energy, where a person’s every need was simply at the tip of their fingers. But those days are gone, and men now languish in the realities of a broken world, with none of the incredible machinery of the past to ease the harsh conditions in which humanity now attempts to thrive. Of the great artifacts of the past, some remains - much of it buried beneath mountains of rubble and ruin, entombed since the last days of the Departure. While man has found many of these trinkets, it has been well beyond his ability to reproduce, or even to understand them, for an unfathomable amount of time. Though simpletons, in comparison to the peoples of olden days, mankind is not yet without innovation or technological development. It is only within recent memory that weapons based upon launching a projectile with chemical force have become prevalent, and the gun has become the centerpiece of much of his military power. The nations of the Age of Ruin battle with firearm and cannon to assert their authority, in vicious, bloody conflicts that can be called nothing but crude in comparison to the ways of the past. But life advances in ways that cannot be predicted. For all of the flaws of man, and the loss of his greatest discoveries, his will to invent can never be tamed, for the blighted world, once run by energies that could only be called magic, now chug and groan, as steam power fuels the broken realms of mankind. ---------- It has been three thousand, two hundred and fifty long, bloody years, since the Outsiders left their loyal subjects, and the realms of man crumbled into dust, to be lost upon the winds of time. For thousands of years, since the Departure, man squabbled in the dirt, like mangy beasts, fighting over the scraps of whatever was left in prolonged, hellish and pointless conflicts, reducing what little remained to a state of utter nothingness, and condemning many priceless artifacts of the times before to be forever buried under sand, and stone, and rubble, and ruin. But man is a persistent beast, and out of the ashes of the old has risen a new order and a new way of life, which has become dominated by the advent of steam power and the prevalence of the rifle and cannon. The Broken Coast is a geographical region defined by many different climates and terrains, inhabited by a wide range of peoples and a diverse spread of nations. The Broken Coast has been embroiled in constant, internecine conflict for as far back as anyone can recall, and the farmland has been well watered with the blood of men. In recent times, however, the presence and ambitions of two new players has changed the balance of power in the region forever. Across the Great Sea, the Sultanate of Kaph hungers for fresh material, as natural minerals and resources slowly become scarcer and scarcer in the homeland. The Sultan of Kaph, Abdul III, demands progress from his representatives in the Broken Coast, as tensions slowly rise between Kaph and her rivals, and the Sultanate’s war machine remains ever hungry for fresh means. Kaph is determined to make inroads into the Broken Coast, by almost any means necessary, and will richly reward her allies who support her endeavours. Kaph’s greatest rival is the power known as the Concordat, a militaristic state, determined to destroy its rivals and bring order to the lands across the Great Sea. The Triumvirs of the Concordat gaze greedily at the Broken Coast - not for its resources, but rather for the chance to starve Kaphi industry before a war even begins, and it is rumoured the agents of the Triumvirate already stalk the lands of the Broken Coast, eagerly seeking allies in their efforts against their greatest foes. ---------- You are the nations of the Broken Coast; a motley gang of monarchies, republics, dictatorships and oligarchies, as diverse as they are warlike. The course of history is in your hands. Who shall endure? Shall Kaph dominate the region, and find enough material to finally defeat their enemies? Shall the Triumvirs of the Concordat succeed in their plot to starve their enemies, and bring their harsh order to the lands across the Great Sea? Or shall the Broken Coast stand alone, rejecting all but those that call those fickle, violent territories their home? Only time, and your endeavours, will tell... APP Discord: Nation Name: Flag: Culture: History: Characters (Up to 3): Location (Pick 3 Provinces): Unique Units: Rules: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1NlpbtrUXMqV5vkJOF7PaHp8Gm5Vm9bDAUiDo4ETyag4/edit#gid=0

Application Discord name (or you can just add me: wealthypiano#5651): I'll message you Desired faction: NCR

IN THE NAME OF GOD 1740 FVC “Symanski’s Brigades, prior to the Battle of Kwarwy.” The year is 1740 FVC, and it has been only a bare seven months since the disastrous Imperial defeat at the hands of Radzimir Pasha, in the narrow confines of Kwarwy Pass. With the Emperor, Ioan VII, killed, and much of the Empire’s leadership similarly slaughtered, the policy of both the Sejm and the new Lord Regent, Janos Dusza, Duke of Prizeczs (brother to the late Emperor), has been to replace the dead officials as swiftly and efficiently as possible. With Ioan felled on the battlefield, Prizeczs has arranged for his infant son Maciej, a boy of barely four, to ascend the Imperial Throne as Ioan VIII, and the Duke now keeps a tight hold upon his young nephew. Chaos has reigned across the Empire since Kwarwy, and the sudden (and unfavourable) peace that followed has left many mercenaries with neither continued employment, nor the pay originally promised to them. Most of these Free Companies have now resorted to open banditry to fill their purses and the areas around Arscea, Bihar and Karancanay have become especially inundated with dissatisfied soldiers of fortune. Imperial weakness has not gone unnoticed, and for the first time in a decade, pirate galleys sail forth from Kemijar, to raid the inland sea of Kozeps and along the northern Imperial coast, causing much disruption along the important routes of trade and travel between Valgrym and the Empire. More alarming, perhaps, is the sudden presence of significant military buildup along both the Kemijari and Kopranian parts of the Valgrymian border. What the brother-Kings Henrikk and Kasper have in store, none can say, but Valgrym has already made an appeal for support to her senior partner, the Empire. Kwarwy has crippled much of the Empire’s military leadership, and many of her State Armies. With the deaths of the Barons Frize and Szeged, leadership of both the Army of Northern Kiralska and the Army of Eastern Kiralska has become vacant, though both are now heavily bereft of troops and material. With the Grand Duke of Arscea dead, the Empire also lacks a Captain-General, and the Imperial State Army lacks a Colonel-General, while the posts of three Electors are also open for election, the first election of such a scale in Imperial history. ----------------------------- The Grand Duchy of Rzechsawa, the traditional heartlands of Dusza rule. Rzechsawa policy is always the same - what the Emperor wills, Rzechsawa wills, for it is his primary title. As of late, Rzechsawa has fallen into the governance of Janos, Duke of Prizeczs, who rules the Empire as Regent. The Duchy of Prizeczs is one of the oldest titles in the Empire, and has traditionally been held by the eldest Imperial son. This tradition was broken when Emperor Jaszu II Dusza awarded it to his second born son, Janos, who has held it ever since. Janos is an ambitious man, and he maintains a heated rivalry with his neighbours, the Kingdom of Valcea. The Duke currently rules as Regent, but maintains close ties with many in this region, especially the neighbouring County of Bartkow. Prizeczs is an Elector. The Kingdom of Valcea is the largest state within the Empire, and the strongest bastion of Jozsefite sentiment. Ruled by the House of Radulescu, Valcea takes a line of hostility to her neighbours, especially Janos Dusza’s Prizeczs, and his allies in Culrath and Bartkow. The King of Valcea, Mikhail X, has long opposed the monopoly the Dusza have held on the Imperial Throne, and is unreserved in his open attempts to oppose them at every turn. Valcea is an Elector. The Grand Duchy of Arscea is a small region, famed for its staunch support of the Vaseric Church, its loyalty to the Imperial House of Dusza and its particularly savage hatred of the Trazmiri. With the previous Grand Duke-Elector slain in the Battle of Kwarwy, Jan Antoniewicz has inherited the title, and the Elector’s Seat. Arscea is an Elector. The Kingdom of Rowne was once the largest and most powerful state in the eastern half of the Empire, but years of infighting and unsuccessful territory grabs have left the Kingdom bereft of allies and depleted of troops. King Siegfried I, having recently inherited the throne from his brother, seeks to reverse his Kingdom’s ill fortunes, and to reclaim some of Rowne’s old lands. Rowne is an Elector. The Barony of Frize is a fairly unimportant and poor fiefdom, that gained notoriety from the great military skill of its previous Baron, Aleksy Symanski. Symanski fell in the Battle of Kwarwy, ostracised and neglected by the Emperor, following the unsuccessful campaign around Arscea. His eldest son, Aleksander, a staunch Jozsefite, has since inherited the Barony, and makes no secret of his distrust of the Dusza. The Duchy of Szwale is a sorry state, for it has lost all influence it once possessed. Previously married into the Dusza and possessors of an Elector’s Seat, Szwale lost all relevance when the previous Duke fell and Kwarwy, and the entire Duchy passed to a minor branch of the Hervencz family. Eager to use his new authority to advance his ambitions, the young Duke Bogdan seeks new allies and benefactors in his quest for power and renown. One of only two states like it in the Empire, Vsezprem is a Commonwealth, where all men are equal before God. Proud Jozsefites, Vsezprem is remarkably unpopular, especially amongst the traditional Vaseric nobility, for its “populist” beliefs. Still, the Commonwealth is a large and capable military power, and few are eager to jump brazenly into war against one of the foremost bastion of Jozsefism. The League of Kara is the largest trade alliance sitting on the Southern Ocean. Mostly unconcerned with territorial conflicts and Imperial wars in general, Kara troubles itself only with maintaining its advantages over Estergaard, its primary trade rival. The League has fought several unofficial conflicts with the maritime Kingdom over the years, and maintains a strong navy as a result. Sigismund Borch heads the League, and also holds an Elector’s Seat, the only Free City representative to do so. The County of Bartkow is ruled by Czesiak Bartkowitz, a loyal ally to the Elector-Duke of Prizeczs, Jan Dusza. Bartkow has long been a bitter enemy of Valcea, and both have fought viciously in the past, usually at Bartkow’s expense. As such, the Count is always eager to knock his larger, Jozsefite neighbour down a peg or two. Bartkow is an Elector. The Mac Cabas of Culrath are the largest and most powerful of the many Dzikny clans along the Western Border. Resettled for generations, the Mac Caba are remarkably Imperialised and, unlike the other Dzikny, they tend to march to war in the Imperial fashion. Pragmatic people, The Mac Cabas are Jozsefites, but are still prominent supporters of the Regent, the Duke of Prizeczs. A far more recent addition to the border of the Wold, the Ua Tomnhair are far more traditionalist than the Imperialised Mac Caba, and they still follow many of the Old Ways, often taking pilgrimages across the border into the great unknown of the Wold. Insular and isolationist, the Ua Tomnhair defend the border territories, and provide mercenaries at an extortionate rate, but otherwise for no interact with the greater Empire. The Barony of Szeged is a march along the Kemijari border. Mostly irrelevant, Szeged is remarkable only for two things - one, it is the only fiefdom in the Empire ruled by an ethnic Kemijari and, two, the Baron of Szeged, Kalevi Makinen, inherited the Barony from his father, Kalevi, who served as Sterzstadt-General for the region, and was slain at Kwarwy. Szeged follows the Ascetic. The Kingdom of Varkul is a large state, in the central area of the Eastern Empire. Ruled by King Andor V Horvat, Varkul is staunchly Vaseric, and incredibly hostile towards its neighbour, the Commonwealth of Vsezprem. Despite its Vaseric nature, Varkul is largely ambivalent to Janos Dusza, and it is well known that King Andor considers him to be a perfidious and shallow fellow. The County of Rasco sits upon the Kozeps Sea, and relies largely upon trade to serve as the basis of its economy. Staunchly Jozsefite, Rasco is tucked away in an unseen corner of the Empire, and its pleas often go unheard in the Vaseric dominated Sejm. Ruled by Count Vuk Brankovic, Rasco maintains close ties with the likes of Valcea, to defend Jozsefite interests. The County of Krysta is a territory bordering Durkov and the resettled Dzikny states. Ruled by Han Kalinszi, Krsyta has been allied to Durkov for years, and is as staunchly Jozsefite as the Duchy. Both are hostile to the nearby border barbarians. Ruwa is a large shipbuilding city, settled along the far north-western reaches of the Southern Ocean. A powerful Free City, Ruwa is the home of many shipwrights, and the city provides ships from simple whalers to large, dedicated galleons, built for the fury of battle. As a result of this, Ruwa maintains close relations with Kara, and the burghers of Ruwa often advocate war with Estergaard. Vaseric. The Duchy of Durkov is a small province, ruled by the cripple-Duke, Balazs Kalinzsi. Constantly subjected to raids, by both pirates and Dzikny raiders from the Wold, Kalinzsi holds a bitter hatred of the Dzikny savages, and is forced to maintain a fairly potent military in order to defend his territory. A long ally of the County of Krysta, Durkov is extremely hostile to the nearby Dzikny states, even those resettled within the Empire. Jozefite. Foldz is a minor Free City in the Northern Empire, on the Kozeps Sea. Often falls victim to sea raiding. Vaseric. A minor Free City, but one of the most important whaling towns in the Empire, Siofok’s only interests are to protect her stake in the whaling trade from the ambitions of the larger and more powerful League of Kara. Vaseric. The largest and most important river port in the Empire - if not the world. Szrachaven sits high in the mountains, across an old Imperial road. From there, it sails goods downstream, where they then travel across the Kozeps Sea. Szrachaven maintains its great wealth and prominence due to its position - to effectively reach the Kozeps Sea, all central Imperial trade must travel through it. Vazyrow, the seat of His Holiness, the Patriarch. Vazyrow is an unusual city as, while it is within the borders of the Empire, it is not subject to Imperial law. The Patriarch has ruled here, from Saint Petran’s Cathedral, since the foundation of the Church by Saint Petran himself. It is here, on the very steps of the Church’s holiest site, that Jozsef the Ascetic condemned the Vaseric Faith, and the Church has sought to violently oppose Jozsefism wherever it may, ever since. --------------------------- County of Chrósty Chrósty is a fief made not for the meek or weak of heart, it stands as a northern bastion of the Vaseric Church against the Kemijar and even Imperial Fiefs that have fallen to the Jozsefite ways. Even now the Count will find himself tested at both the national border against the Northerners and his supposed Imperial colleagues to the South, with pirate galleys raiding the lake that both Kiralski and Kemijar with little in the way of hindrance from their native Kingdom and its government. To the south outlaws, deserters and miscreants have continually nipped at the heels of Chrósty taking grain, women and weapons. But the men and soldiers of this County are a hardy folk and will not suffer brigand or buccaneer for long. County of Budivel The County itself is inside of what can be considered the strongest heartlands of Jozsefites in the Empire, with the Commonwealth of Vzesprem across the sea and the Commonwealth of the Golden Horn to its South. Its coasts are relatively well protected due to its proximity to many potential allies however therein lies a soft underbelly of the Glittering Woods. The Changeling Tribes in the South offer fair warning to the Count and his Soldiers not to cross too far into their territory, peasants tell tales of entire villages disappearing in retaliation to any notion of aggression. How will the Count deal with these Heathens who prey upon his people? Holy March of Mis Beyond the fiendish mountains, through the hellish woods, lies the bitter and divided land of Orchemya, where dwell a race of angry, violent giant-folk. It is with these giants that the brave men of Mis must contend, for only they can stand as the Empire’s defense against these unholy beasts. Blessed by God above, Mis stands with Jozsef, united against the depredations of every sacrilegious and impious faith that blights the face of the Empire... County of Balcescu One of the few places a commoner might consider nice and prosperous in the East to settle given its protection on all sides by various Marches and its proximity to the Capital itself. The Lords of Balcescu are well loved by their people for their perceived good rule and protection of their fields. However banditry and brigands are on the rise as deserters from both the Imperial Army and the Eastern Kiralski Army have begun to litter the once peaceful Countryside of Balcescu. All is not grim however as the famed Mercenary Company native to the County the Bastards of Balcescu is said to be marching home for the coming Winter so that its soldiers might spend this time with their families as the campaigning season draws to its conclusion. Clan Siurdan Across a great distance marched the men, women and children of Siurdan, shepherded by their great leader. Through hills, mountains, streams and fens, the young warrior lead his people, until they reached the fertile land of the Empire, where they raided until they were granted acceptable concessions. But the plights of Clan Siurdan are not yet over, for she is surrounded by fickle neighbours and disdaining masters, and the call of the Old Ways, of tree and river, dampens from its mighty roar, to a lonely sigh... March of Bihar Bihar suffered greatly in the closing days of the Fourth Trazmir War, and of all Imperial territories, only she is capable of projecting the intense hatred the Traitor, Radzimir, truly reserves. She must bide her time now, looking across the border towards that perfidious fiend, but the leaders of the March know that the day of reckoning will soon be at hand, and that they shall have their chance to punish the Snake... The Commonwealth Built by the grubby hands of ragged peasant pikemen, the Commonwealth is a living example of open rebellion against the Imperial norm. Though it has existed for many years now, and publicly maintains its obligations to the Emperor, none within the great heights of the state truly feel comfortable with the open rule of uneducated peasants. Though the Commonwealth stands proud, it is surrounded by neighbours who hate the very concept of its existence, especially with its proud support of the hated Ascetic... County of Przeworsk An old and prestigious realm within the Empire, Przeworsk is a land laden with both great sailors and skilled craftsmen. The men of Przeworsk are masters of shipbuilding, and their warships have long been a famed sight throughout the Empire.But their greatness comes with a cost, for both Ruwa and Estergaard look upon the maritime state with envy and hate, and across the Southen Ocean, the fleets of Trazmir ever stir….

IN THE NAME OF GOD https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2W1Wi2U9sQ In days long vanished, there stood a civilisation that lived as a blessed utopia, where lived men who were masters of art, philosophy and the magical sciences. For centuries, this utopia reigned supreme on earth, until God brought fiery vengeance upon these Ancients, for their hubris, and cast their people down, with the enormity of his wrath. Or, at least, so the legends say. None truly know what happened to that civilisation, but all know the wonders of the machines they left behind. Even now, thousands of years after the Fall, Ancient Mana Engines work as if it were the day they were made. Across the known world, man has come to rely on these relics of the past, using them to provide light, heat, running water. Using them to power airships, and to take to the sky. Arcane Engineers toil endlessly to replicate these wonders, eager to usher in a new era of prosperity and wonder. But life, fickle and dangerous as it is, is never so simple. For the world is not as it was in the myths that speak of the Ancients, it is not a wondrous, united place, where man lives in seamless unity, working together for the betterment of all - no, it is not that. It is a harsh place. A hard, cruel place, where the pettiness of man has never been so pronounced, or the divisions, so apparent. The world is segregated into nations, nations built high upon ethnic and cultural identity. Nations, built around and fortified with religious and political differences. Nations, where blind hate for their neighbours is the everpresent, inescapable norm. In the south east lies arguably the greatest of this world’s nations - or at least, the largest, if you are not Trazmiri. The Azari Trazmir is a vast, rich land, with a diverse range of internal cultures, and distinctive geography. From vast mountains in the south, around which Trazmiri industry is built, to the great plains and steppes of the north, from whence come their infamous cavalry, to the vast salt wastes that span much of the country’s centre, there is little that cannot be found in Trazmir. The Azari Trazmir is ruled by the Azar, Ozdemir II, called the Great by his friends, and the Tyrant by his enemies. Governing the Azar’s empire in his name are his governors, who hold lifetime appointments to manage their territories. Most famous of these governors is the Kiralski traitor, Radzimir Pasha, a genius general who betrayed his country and his religion to take refuge in the Azar’s Court. He spends his days guarding the lands around Kwarwy Pass, where most of his force of elite infantry is raised from. North of Trazmir is a strange, vicious land, called Orchemya. Heavily divided and incredibly internecine, Orchemya is a land populated by a race of giants, who stand anywhere from 7 to 10 feet tall. Rich in resources, the Orchemyans occasionally cross the mountains to raid Imperial territories, and the sight of one of these giants sprinting up with a 4 pdr held like a gun, blasting grapeshot into the ranks of infantry and then charging in like a berserk madman is something that most veterans speak of with great dread. Orchemya is divided into dozens of minor kingdoms and petty duchies, where each local lord attempts to enforce his rule over his neighbours, usually unsuccessfully. In rare circumstances, warlords sometimes manage to unite the region and lead the Orchemyans forth on a vicious spree of blood lust. This has happened thrice in the past centuries, and each time the giants have been turned back, but only with great Imperial losses. For now, the region is quiet, though talk abounds of a particularly powerful warlord, deep within the poisoned heart of the region. South west of Trazmir is the country known as the Kungvold Estergaard, a nation of hardy seamen, who primarily make their living from whaling and trade, who gleefully take to the water as if sea salt were in their very blood. Estergaard is a pretty place, filled with glittering sand, and characterised by warm, sunny weather. But it is far from a soft place - the soil of Estergaard is poor, and the small maritime nation is oft wracked by the terrible storms of the Southern Oceans. But to be Estish is to sail - and the people of this hard land roam the seas, fishing to put food on their table, and to provide their merchants with goods to sell. Estergaard boasts the finest navy in the world, and often clashes for control of the Bay of Estmarr, with Trazmir and the Empire both. Trouble brews, however, between religion and between legislatives, as King Petyr II and the Republican, Ulrik Carstensen, both seek to empower their respective political factions. Of the Northern Kingdoms, the mightiest is the Osvanti Kemijar. Though poor, Kemijar is a military power of exceptional renown. Her armies are fierce, excellently drilled and extremely bold. Under the guidance of the soldier-king Henrikk IV, the armies of Kemijar have come to dominate in the northern regions, and the Koprani-Kemijari alliance has placed immense pressure on the far smaller Kingdom of Valgrym. Here is the greatest bastion of Jozsefism in the world, and it was here that Jozsef fled, following his condemnations. Kemijar is a harsh, cold and impoverished land, and always Henrikk looks south, to the territories occupied by Kiralska, two centuries before, where much of the population is ethnically Kemijari. Imperial-Kemijari relations have never been colder, especially as Henrikk moves to further his ambitions in Valgrym. Allied to Kemijar is Vostike Kopran, a neighbouring Kingdom, ruled by Henrikk’s younger brother, Kasper I. Though Kasper is a sickly, frail man, in an incredibly cruel place to live, he is beloved, as both an exceptional general and a benevolent ruler. The people of Kopran adore their sickly warrior King, and often look uncomfortably across the border, for Kasper’s heir is none other than Henrikk of Kemijar. Kopran is the coldest, bitterest place in the world- that boasts a nation, at least - and Kopranian politics are defined by their need to access the Kozeps Sea, dominated by Valgrym, in order to easily trade with both Kemijar’s more civilised areas and the Empire. As of late, Kopran seems intent on gaining this access by means of military force, and has joined Kemijar in pressuring the small, fairly weak Valgrymian state. Vostike Valgrym is a small country, with a small army and a respectable navy. The country is rich, but split in half by the straits known as the Teeth, which control all access between the Kozeps Sea in the south, and the Sea of Czwarza in the North. Upon the throne of Valgrym, sits the Emperor of Kiralska, for the Imperial House of Dusza has held both nations in personal union for centuries now. In practice, Oliver-Kaj Stiernhelm, Jarl of Jykland, is the ruler of Valgrym, as the royally appointed Governor-General. A famed commander, Stiernhelm is determined to resist Kemijari and Kopranian invasion, even as continuous religious schism and political dissatisfaction threatens to tear Valgrym apart. Neighbouring Valgrym, on the eastern side of the Teeth, is the vast, inhospitable region known as the Wold. A wilderness, characterised by its beauty, savage and feral. Inhabiting the Wold are a thousand tribes and clans, who call themselves the Aitribhead (or Aitrianni) in their own tongue, but who are most commonly known throughout the world as the Dzikny, mercenaries of great skill and renown. The Wold is a cruel place, and many of these Dzikny have chosen to forsake it over the years, choosing instead to settle in the western half of the Empire, where their clans are given land in exchange for military service. Constant raids define these borderlands, and even the Imperial controlled border is closer in nature to the Wold than it is to the rest of the Empire. Amongst all of these nations, surrounded on every side, opposed on every front, is the Empire. Called Tym Kiralska Birodaloz in the tongue of Cazimir, the first Emperor, the Empire is a vast, diverse land, filled with wealth and beauty. Mountains, hills, plains, streams, marshes, forests and bogs are present in every corner of Kiralska, and it truly is a land of comfort, and easy living. Within the borders of the Empire lies the capital of Rzechsaw, where the great canal gives access from the Southern Ocean into the Kozeps Sea, along with Vazryow, the ancient, sacred seat of the Patriarch, and the heart of the Vaseric Faith. Kiralska is a holy land, where piety and faith dominate daily life. It is from the Empire that two of the greatest schisms (or heresies, should you listen to the Vaseric Church) have originated - the Jozsefites and the Magites. Of her neighbours, the Empire finds friends only in Valgrym, where the Emperor rules in personal union. The Empire is large, powerful and diverse, but Kiralska is faced with foes on every front, along with deep internal rifts. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The Empire is a large, ethnically diverse nation, in a position of central dominance in the southern parts of the Known World. On three sides, it is bordered by hostile peoples, and on the fourth it shares a sea with a hostile maritime power. The Empire is the beating heart of the Vaseric Faith - both the holy city of Vazryow and the Patriarch reside within the Empire’s vast borders. Key to the Empire’s wealth and military capabilities is the Kozeps Sea, a large inland sea with only two entrances - one in the north, called the Teeth, is dominated by the Kingdom of Valgrym, while the Imperial Capital of Rzechsaw is built around the Great Canal, giving access from the Southern Ocean into the Kozeps. Militarily, the Empire is fairly powerful, and boasts a wide array of armies and navies - from the Imperial State Army and Navy, to various regional state armies, to private armies and fleets owned by free cities and noblemen - the Empire has a vast source of military power at its disposal. Tym Kiralska Birodaloz is ruled by the Emperor, appointed by 9 Electors. These Electors are, in turn, appointed by the nobles’ parliament, called the Sejm, to perform this service. In reality, most Electors pass their seats down with their titles and, until recently, a new Elector had not been appointed in nearly two centuries. The Sejm also serves as an arm of governance to the Emperor, often managing much of the minutiae of such a large, diverse territory. While the Imperial State Army and Navy, along with the Dragoner Korps, answers to the Emperor, the Sejm appoints the Streztadt-Generals (State-Generals) who manage the various regional military forces. The Sejm provides a service of mediation - by Imperial law, disputes must be settled with the Chambers of the Sejm though, in reality, many nobles choose to ignore this, and simply spill blood anyway. The Empire is home to a diverse range of nobility, from Marcher Lords and Counts, to Barons and Knights, to Dukes and Kings, as well as a wide spectrum of Free Cities, which can be ruled by anything from a merchant’s republic, to a military dictatorship. The Sejm exists to create a synergy between these unlikely allies. In recent years, the Empire engaged in the Fourth Trazmir War, in a bloody attempt to regain former Imperial territories from its age-old enemy. A bloody defeat, inflicted by the hands of the traitor Radzimir, near Kwarwy Pass ended that long conflict with the death of four Electors and the Emperor himself. While one of these seats remains in its ancestral hands, that of the Grand Duke of Arscea, the other three are of lineages destroyed in the male line, and it now falls to the Sejm to appoint replacements. The inheritor of the Imperial Throne was the infant son, Maciej, of the previous Emperor, Ioan VII. With the swift ratification of the remaining Electors, Maciej has been crowned as Ioan VIII, Emperor of Kiralska, King of Valrgym, Grand Duke of Rzechsawa etc etc, but true power in the Imperial Government lies now with Jan Dusza, Duke of Prizeczs, the young Emperor’s uncle, who stands as regent until the youthful monarch reaches his majority. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Politics, in the Empire, falls into a number of divisions. First, foremost and most prominent is the divisions between those who back the Jozsefite True Mechanists’ Order, and those who support the Vaseric Magitechnical Guild. These religious orientated politics are the bitterest and most divided source of opinions in the Empire, and the only thing either side tends to agree on is “Death to the Trazmiri”. Also particularly prominent is the divide between Dusza loyalists and their disorganised opponents, which tends to overlap with religious politics (the Dusza are staunchly Vaseric). Much contention can also be found surrounding geographical politics - the eastern lords tend to demand action against Trazmir or Kemijar, whilst the lord of the west call for more support in their efforts to quell Dzikny raiding, and the southern cities demand increased levies and taxes (and sometimes open war) be focused on their primary trading rival - Estergaard. These are, however, simply the broadest and most general factions - in the Sejm, every man looks out for his own interests, and nobody else’s. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The two primary religious factions in the Empire are the Vaseric Church, who sponsor the Magitechnical Guild; engineers of anything and everything to do with arcane technology, or the Jozsefites, a newly arisen band of dissidents who venerate the True Mechanists’ Order, who control most production of firearms, gunpowder and artillery, along with more mundane innovation. The primary difference of theology between the two churches is their stance on magic - The Vaserics regard magic as a gift from God, which exists solely for the betterment of man, while the Jozsefites consider magic to be a devilish creation, that resulted in God’s destruction of the Ancients. Jozsefism is growing particularly popular in the Empire, especially amongst the poorer peasantry, who could afford none of the luxuries presented by arcano-tech anyway. Less widespread, and hated by both factions, are the Magites, a heresy that believes magic to be the living incarnation of God himself. Magites are particularly prominent in the eastern sections of the Empire, in territories that have switched between Imperial and Trazmiri hands many times over the years. Magite beliefs are very close to Trazmiri beliefs - Trazmir regards magic to be a part of God, and considers the usage of all magic, including foul practices involving the Cursed Arts, to be an act of worship. As a result, Trazmir tends to be tolerant of the Magite heresy, whereas the Empire prefers to deal with such heretics with violent and vicious pogroms, often burning whole families of Magites when they are found. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ In The Name Of God is a homebrew gunpowder fantasy FRP, based in a pseudo-late 16th century setting. In The Name Of God operates on a mechanical system, for which we use an automated Google Sheet to make simple. In The Name Of God is a co-operative FRP, and all players take positions as nobles or free cities in the Empire, a large state comparable to the Holy Roman Empire in structure. Within the Empire, most NPCs are based on Polish, Romanian and Hungarian aesthetics, but for player applications, a nation based on anywhere in central or eastern Europe is totally acceptable. While the game may appear daunting at first, please don’t feel intimidated, as both myself and Will (my co-moderator) are more than happy to help out anyone who is unsure or confused, and veteran players are also more than happy to help out. If you’re interested, feel free to join up! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ APPLICATION Discord name (PM if you wish): Nation Type (County/Marcher Lord/Free City): Nation Flag (optional): Nation Name: Nation Culture (Brief description): Nation History: Religion (Jozsefite, Vaseric): Special Characters (Up to 3, generals/agents may be added or included if purchased with starting funds):

ETESH -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 1048 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Vibrant roses bloom Winding beds of beauteous joy Beware! The prickly thorns.” Near the shores of the Sea of Ophir - part of what others call the Mesogean Sea - rests a great jewel, built into and around a single, towering hill; resplendent and glorious. Etesh commands the surrounding countryside with a mighty aura, radiated from the miles of grim slums at the foothills, to the majestic palaces of bronze and marble, atop the great heights of the settlement. From peak to base, the city is a tangled warren of rambling streets and avenues, labyrinthine both above and below the ground - where run the endless tunnels of the Catacombs. Countless people live here, most clustered into the cramped and flimsy apartments in the lower parts of the city, living meagre - but not particularly hard - lives. These poor accommodations are not, however, important; in the grand scheme of things. Power, as it always does, resides at the top, amidst the palaces and houses of bronze and marble, surrounded by intricate glass, and dwelled in by the mighty. It is atop this hill, at the pinnacle of Etesh, that Nunamnir - Lord of Dust, the Stargazer - makes his home, in a small (comparatively speaking) residence, surrounded by acres of rambling gardens. It is late in the spring, and the many flower beds roar with boundless colour, as roses of every shade and hue struggle and clash in an endless battle to declare themselves the brightest, the most vibrant, the most beautiful. Through these garish lanes walks a man - or what would be taken for a man, were it not for the strange crest that sat atop his head, topped by a half dozen little green flames. His stride is purposeful, confident; it is clear he has walked here many, many times. Through the rose beds he weaves until, at last, he reaches a small clearing, where two sit at a small metal table - one clearly human, though a human possessed of strange red eyes, and black veins; and the other a member of the same strange race as the hiker. “The stars in the sky” recites the non-human, as the hiker approaches “Glittering high above the earth, far beyond my reach.” The red-eyed human makes a sound of disgust, as the hiker finally reaches the table, weathered stone face gazing down impassively upon the seated pair. “As poetic as ever, Nunamnir.” he greets, a sardonic smile contrasting sharply with the otherwise empty; flat expression “One would think you had better things to do with your time, than tend roses and write verse.” A snort from the human answers this declaration, as if he had argued this case already. The one called Nunamnir says nothing, and instead reaches towards a gameboard upon the table, and slides a metal piece across two squares. “I believe I win again.” he mutters quietly, before turning his full attention to the newcomer “What do you want, Inzak Orator? Can you not see that I have little want nor need of whatever it is you come to offer?” Inzak blinks and takes a deep breath, attempting to control his rising irritation. He turns his head slightly to look at the human, Lazarus, who grimaces, looking uncomfortable. “Are you not even going to offer a guest the hospitality of your home?” Inzak finally snaps, turning his eyes back to his elder sibling “Or have manners also deserted you, in your long ‘retirement’?” “You have nothing to say that I wish to hear, so why make offers that will keep you in my house for longer than is necessary?” Bored with the conversation, and unconcerned with his brother’s wrath, Nunamnir stands, scraping his chair across the stone, before wandering away, down a path surrounded by white roses, tinged with blue and black. “Nunamnir!” roars Inzak, at his departing back “You think they will let you live like this forever? You swore to serve Etesh when you took the Binding! Already the Inquisition calls for you to be sealed! What will it take to make you do your duty? Condemnation to the Inkart-?” Inzak chokes back his words, as Nunamnir turns back with thinly veiled fury. “Do not invoke that name in my home - I believe you have said enough, and I am sure you know the way out.” With a swirl of robes, the Lord of Dust turns and walks away, disappearing within the maze of roses. Finally the Orator turns, his displeasure obvious, to Lazarus. “And what of you? Will you continue to defy the wishes of the Senate?” The red-eyed human shrugs, muscle bulging beneath his tunic as he makes this simple movement. Fingers with nails like talons tap upon the table, and a twist of Lazarus’ mouth reveals rows of viciously pointed teeth. “I go where my masters command, Inzak Orator, but lest there is blood for me to spill, I see little reason to leave this place. I am the Lord of Ash, and I have little interest in anything save blood and war, pillage and rapine, torture and mutiliation.” The creature - who by now is clearly not human - grins, sinisterly “So command me forth is you desire, but expect me not to go, should there not be anything I might enjoy in my duties.” Inzak stares at the creature, a chill running down his spine at the thought of releasing this barely shackled beast into the world. The quiver of doubt lasts but a moment - he swiftly stills his heart and hardens his resolve. “I will send you forth then, to do your duty to Etesh, and to me.” He turns then, keenly aware of his unwelcome status, and begins to pick his path back through the rose beds. Near the doors, by a patch of particularly radiant flowers, he stops, his eyes picking out the differences in colour, the sharpness of the thorns, the loving care with which the soil has been weeded. He reaches forwards, gently, and picks a single rose. For a while, he considers it, before savagely crushing it in his closed fist. The broken rose turns black as Inzak throws it into the bed with the others. As he turns and storms out the gate, the rose bed wilts and dies, and bright blood drips from his ragged fingers. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The winds howled as they blew through the ruins, producing a chilling melody as they shifted and twisted through the lonely columns and collapsed walls. Once, long ago, a proud fortress once sat there; now it was nothing more than a forgotten pile of rubble. Above the bleak, wind-blasted carcass of the fort, a blanket of black storm clouds seemed as if they would burst at any moment. The eerie tranquility of the scene soon interrupted by the appearance of a lonesome armored figure, an Exalted too no less. Where small plumes of white and gold flames once burned upon the tips of Oris’ many crests, simple streaks of pale blue-green light had taken their place. Slowly, he drifted through the shell of what were once buildings, bony hands running along their surfaces. “Wake up, you have a new task. Our time has not yet come...” A small pebble shifted and fell out of place, tumbling down onto the earth. Slowly, a mound of rubble began to move as an armored skeleton pulled itself from its earthen tomb. Soon another followed, and another, and another. Before long, the whole site was a hive of activity as long dead warriors clambered to the Exile’s side, compelled to serve he who bore the Pale Crown. “The Beyond is waiting...” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a calm day in the Sea of Orul, with a humble northwesterly breeze offering a meager amount of force to supplement the labors of the oarsmen. It was just enough to draw the sails of the five Tiremes, each a spitting image of the other per the demands of naval discipline. It presented a superb portrait of seagoing life; something to make the true sailor's heart leap with joy. Though the four captains who presently stood on the after-deck of the flagship were too occupied with their anxiety to appreciate it as this display was subjected to the most intense kind of scrutiny. With anticipation, they awaited the verdict of the figure who, his back turned, could have any kind of hideous expression of displeasure on his face. Looking over the rail, tapping a long finger upon it, the purple-clad Exalted gazed a little longer at the four Tiremes in their perfect line abreast formation. The captains wondered, did their particular arrangement of the rigging match the flagship? Had the gold leaf been neglected? Were the rams polished? Were the rhythms of the oars just right? "You know", said Azlatan, Lord of Salt as he abruptly turned about face bearing an uncharacteristic grin, catching the four captains off guard, "I once spoke to a merchant; a grave-brother of course, who managed to get himself blown four hundred leagues out to sea and had been fitfully making his way back to the coast for weeks. His was a trireme, a shabby old thing really, which our quinquereme had no trouble bringing under our lee in short order." Blank faces stared at the freshly minted Exalted as he leaned on the rail and emoted his tale with vigour. "The merchant's oarsmen were eviscerated with hunger, it was plain to us at a distance, his stores most likely being nearly out. So the captain had us prepare some of our water casks, and we set about rigging a'try in order that we might do our brothers a kindness, as is our duty. As you all know, it is a delicate operation and we had to come up right alongside him in order to do it; barely a man-length between us. We noticed the merchantman and his crew were deeply anxious, observing our conduct as we tried to swing these great heavy objects onto his deck in a heaving cross-sea. Thinking that they were concerned we might let the provisions fall between us, the captain called out - "Don't you worry Grave-Brother, we will see that you will eat and drink to your heart's content until you reach shore." To which the merchantman - " Azlatan paused, his toothy grin widening, ", to which the merchantman replied, 'Never mind that - you'll ding up the paintwork if you don't mind your god damned con." Azlatan's firey eyes narrowed into slits as he let out a disconcerting, growling laughter. Below the deck, the flagship's officers could be heard laughing among themselves, being well acquainted to Azlatan's ways. The captains remained as blank as ever. "You see," said the Exalted commander of the Republican fleet as his face transitioned to something more like the demeanor of the stoic leviathan his underlings feared, "that merchantman and his crew were more concerned with their bearing, their pride than they were with survival. In that moment they put every naval warship afloat to shame, no matter how trim or gaudy. Remember, gentlemen, that what makes a happy fighting ship is not the aesthetic appeal or the quantity of polish employed, but the pride of its crew, and its officers in their work. Do not let any comments about your aesthetics detract your attention from this " The entire after-part of the trireme fell into hushed silence. "Your commands are in excellent shape, I commend you for your efforts. Come tomorrow, we will have a go at maneuvers. You are all dismissed." And with that, the fleet hove to and the captains departed to their ships in contemplative silence, while the deathless commander paced his afterdeck, contemplating the setting western sun as a favorite Dusii verse floated across his lips: Of sea-captains young and old, and the mates, and of all intrepid sailors, of the few, very choice, taciturn, whom fate can never surprise nor death dismay... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- —E C O N O M I C A C T I O N S— -- 266,480 Talents 182,000 - Two legions are raised in Besdit [70 Iron] [2 Lumber] 30,000 - Two Akirs are named 20,000 - Hakur is consecrated as a City of Halls 10,000 - Inzak is given agent status 6,000 - The Exile’s ranks swell in number [3 Iron] 12,000 Talents remain unspent Raw resources are sold off in vast quantities. The wealth of Etesh is made abundantly clear. -6 Stone overland to the Axian Order in return for 12,000 talents in compensation. -40 Lumber and 10 Stone overland to the Princedoms of Nyre in return for 80,000 talents. -1 Lumber overland to the northern markets for 250 talents -12 Iron overland to the northern markets for 3,000 talents -4 Stone is saved —M O D A C T I O N S— -Spiders move in the dark [10,000 Talents] [Discord]

Please do not litter in the FRP section.

BUCHANAN'S BRIGADE 2274 - Turn 4 ------------------------------ The whistling scream of an artillery shell screeched through the night, and an almighty explosion burst across the camp. Shattered ammunition cases and burning fuel barrels rained around the NCR camp, as bullets exploded and ricocheted in the intense heat of the fire. Screams of pain and anguish echoed, mingling with the roars and shouts of officers calling their men to position. A company raced down towards the trenches protecting the perimeter, but as they leapt into the dug outs, Legionaries fell on them, leaping into the trench and tearing the horrified Troopers to ribbons. Gunfire burst through the night, as NCR men on the left managed to get their machine guns firing, just in time to shred the first ranks of the approaching enemy. One gun jammed, and through the bloody haze and tangled bodies of the first wave came Caesar's veterans, hardened warriors all, and the flank broke. Across the river sat Buchanan's Brigade, sent over the previous night by General Campbell, to fortify the other bank, to cross in the morning. It was there that Brigadier-General Buchanan scrambled out into the night, only half dressed, and armed only with a battered pair of binoculars. "Get the mortars turned!" He roared at a band of shaken looking conscripts, as he anxiously peered through the binoculars at the other half of the NCR camp. "Where is the ******* bugler?! Sound the call to arms and positions!" The bugle call thundered, and men rushed into their positions, clutching service rifles and cramming helmets on their heads. A sudden roar cut through the murky night, as a panicked captain yelled out in horror. "Sir! On our left!" Buchanan wheeled round, surprised but determined, and roared. "Fire at will, you sons of *******!" Once more, gunfire erupted, as NCR Troopers gunned down hundreds of crazy, shrieking Legionaries. This time, the green enemy forces shattered, and fell back in confusion, just as the Legion sprang their trap. A solid wedge of Caesar's Best came charging from the other side of the river, where three full brigades of troops had been put to flight. The new Legionaries smashed into the NCR gunline, and Buchanan's men swiftly caved under the pressure, and hundreds of Troopers were caught in a violent pell mell in and around the water. Buchanan shook his head grimly. "Picton, I want a rearguard." Colonel Picton nodded, shouting for a company to form up on him. Buchanan turned to his chief aide d'camp. "Captain Trimball, I want you to recover our mortars and our battle honours - keep them well guarded and fall back." "Yes sir!" shouted the pale looking officer, as he sprinted off into the night. Buchanan stepped into his tent and collected the uniform he hadn't had time to don, as he burned or collected confidential information. "Company will form line!" Thundered Picton. "Pick your shots well now boys! Steady! Steady!" He called, as his men fired into the oncoming Legionaries. Fleeing NCR Troopers sprinted past the rearguard, until Picton grabbed a man and struck him across the face. "No! No! Not like that! Face the enemy, you damned cowards!" Still the gunfire rang out, as the gunline moved back, a step at a time, firing steadily into the oncoming Legionaries. Men who had been fleeing gathered their wits, and hastily joined the gunline, as the company stepped back, step after step after step. Finally, they reached the edge of the camp, and the Legionaries turned their attention to looting the abandoned position, as Picton and his men finally retreated into the night. ---- Buchanan stepped out of the building, if it could be called that, housing the officer quarters. He glanced down at the pavement, rubbing his stuff neck with one hand. Another bad night's sleep. Whenever that dream struck, only one detail ever crossed his mind afterwards. He ******* hated the Legion. 2 Scrap Yards - 4B + 15'000C 1 Market - 1B + 5'000C 1 Construction Yard - 7'500C 22 men are trained - 2'200C 45 T1 Heavy Weapons (9M) 150 T1 Guns (6M) 75 T2 Guns (9M)

THE GUILD OF ENGINEERS 2272 - Turn 3 Ash made slurry by rain washed down the once white marble of Chicago Union Station. The ancient steps were cracked, worn smooth, stained black, red, gray and brown by centuries of misuse. The grimey water splashed as heavy boots trampled down the bruised stone. A company of infantry marched down, rifles slung over their shoulders, dressed in ancient, fraying boiler suits, as a crowd of slave-zealots gathered at the bottom of the stairs, to listen to Frederick Suhl, who stood on a great podium, adorned in the religious regalia of a high priest of Choo-Choo. "Do not fear!" He cried, raising his staff on high, and striking it down with a great crash "You are the beloved servants of the Mighty Steam God! You are his minions, his worshippers, his sons! You are his Steam-men, and blessed shall you be by his Holy Whistle! Forth you shall march, fateful weapon in hand, to defend this, Choo-Choo's Holy Land! Strength he will grant you! Courage he will give you! Glory he will send you! So fear not, ardent believers! On! On! On! Onwards, unto his Glory! On! On! On! Onwards, unto his Vengeance! Fight with every faithful bone on your blessed bodies, Children of Steam, and we shall arise victorious over the polluted and malformed mutants! We shall defend this Holy Place, and drive these abortions back, back to the Hell from which they came!" With the conclusion of the High Steam Priest's speech, the congregation below let out an almighty "Whoooooooo-whooooooooo!" in reply, before leaving up and down, cheering and roaring to the glory and honour of their God. Nearby, their commissars, the Iron Captains, watched, desperately trying not to laugh at the ridiculous antics that had been drilled into the heads of these poor souls. Finally, Suhl waved his hand, and the Iron Captains hastily began to herd the force of melee infantry towards the front line, at gun point. 50 T1 Guns (2M) 4 levels of block defenses (2000C + 4B) 1 Agri House (5000C + 2B) 65 men Trained (6500C) T1 Artillery (14/15R) The Guild of Engineers stays firmly put.

THE GUILD OF ENGINEERS 2271 - Turn 2 The last light of day shone over the broken horizon, as Donovan stood, hand caressing the side of the ancient steel beast before him. She showed her scars. Scores from where she was thrown from the rails. Scorch marks from explosions. Bullet holes, no doubt put there in bitter firefights over the years. To Donovan, she represented the absolute height of his ambitions, the glorious pinnacle that he had hoped to achieve in this place. And yet, once more, he was exiled, cast out. His people condemned to wander the broken, mutant filled and radiation warped landscape of Old Chicago, until they found a new home to be robbed of. He caressed the metal panel. He knew this train. He had ridden her to work every morning, before the bombs dropped. Before the cryosleep. He could remember her, an old workhorse, engine roaring under the weight of dozens of carriages, packed with working class men. Christ! He had worked as a senior engineer on the plant where she and her sisters had been built. Trains had always been his dream. Waltzing Matilda, that's what this one was called. Waltzing Matilda, a name affectionately bestowed by old Jim Leathem, an Australian engineer who had married American, the man who had designed her. A tear dropped from the end of Donovan's nose, then he lifted his hand, and walked away. -5R into Molotov Cocktails -5R into T1 Artillery -Bands of scouts are deployed to the west, seeking a safe path from the station for the homeless band of Engineers. [Mod/Details in Discord]