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The Balian Crown Penned by Radmir "Avant-Vanguard" Montalt For the Balian Knights who stayed whilst their Queen fled, and the Legion of Burgundy. ☩ ☩ ☩ Written in parody of "The Balian Sound" an old Balian Sea Shanty, sung by the Legion of Burgundy Choir and one Orcish Krugmarine. Oh, Balian, is a beautiful country, Way, hay, roll and go. And we rolled all night, And we rolled all day, To raid the Balian Crown. Oh, Balian has a bright young ruler Way, hay, roll and go. But without her crown, who will back her? Way, hay, roll and go. And we rolled all night, And we rolled all day, To raid the Balian Crown Well, her father was an old adulterer. Way, hay, roll and go. And we rolled all night, And we rolled all day, To raid the Balian crown. Ah, Balian loves their throne room Way, hay, roll and go. Such a shame fire does too Way, hay, roll and go. And we rolled all night, And we rolled all day, To raid the Balian Crown Oh, Balian, is a beautiful country, Way, hay, roll and go. Oh, Balian has a bright young ruler Way, hay, roll and go. And we rolled all night, And we rolled all day, To raid the Balian Crown. And we rolled all night, And we rolled all day, To raid the Balian Crown.
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The Net of Whitespire ☩ ☩ ☩ It was always a near thing, operations that required a short burst in, then a short burst out, accomplishing the objective within a brief window. Lennerd, a simple private in Blackvale’s ranks, had never undertaken such a mission before. He was not to go alone, of course, nor was he to be relied on for much. Well, just one thing… “Lennard. I hear that you are the surest catcher in all of Tiel. Stories of the time that you caught all of Miss Jette’s fruit when she dropped them during the market. I will give you the opportunity to prove that yourself. You are to be put under one of my most loyal men, Ivan of Arpa. My cousin Hendrik has summoned him and a group of orcs to partake in a covert operation. Aaun has betrayed us. Whitespire is weak. We must strike while we have the opportunity.” Lennerd was a poor boy from a small market town. His meeting with Sir Gaspard was the first and only time he had seen a man of such a stature. Proud in action, despite the state of the war. Strong in tone, despite the many cruelties that he had suffered. What awed Lennerd the most was his resolve and strength. Even in these dark days for the League, the Captain-General’s mind worked at a pace he had not seen before. The fear in Lennerd’s heart was great. His devotion to his liege was greater. And so it was that he and an orc, a giant, fat olog named Brug, waited at the base of Whitespire during a rainy, cold morning. Each held the opposite ends of a giant net. Lennerd was no small man himself, he weighed more stone than any other in Tiel, but he felt dwarfed by even the smallest orc on the march over. They were loud, boisterous, sure of themselves in a way he never was. Brug, for all the wits he lacked, could at least notice this. As they climbed to the base of the great tower, the seat of the King of Aaun, Brug hummed a merry tune. It calmed Lennerd’s nerves for what was to come. As the minutes went on, he could hardly see, much less hear, the men and orcs that had stormed the tower. The guards of the city had been unaware of their movements, nor had the general citizenry awoken yet, but still Lennard feared what would happen if even one person crossed the bridge over to the tower the whole operation would be blown. The anxiety in his heart grew and grew as each minute ticked by. Then, when it seemed like it had gone on for so long that the raid had blundered in some way, Lennerd heard the call. “LENNERD! BRUG! THE NET!” It was Ivan’s voice. The two looked up and scrambled to unfurl the net and stretch it out when they saw it: boats flying through the air, each with a parachute breaking its descent somewhat. One snapped, sending a group of men plummeting into the sea to meet their deaths from such a height. Lennerd thought he saw a bishop’s crozier go with it, though he had only heard of such things. The others kept aloft, but it seemed that they were drifting out towards the sea. “Uhhh…. Hurry!” Lennerd’s voice broke as he yelled to Brug. The olog got the message and began to wade out some into the shallow sea. Lennerd moved slower, along small rocks that he could find his footing on. He and Brug were the backup’s backup, only needed if the worst happened. Now, the worst was here. The man felt that he was going to vomit, as the fortune of this whole raid now rested on the shoulders of him and an olog who couldn’t count to three. But then, fortune broke in favor of Lennerd. The winds that had carried the fleeing boat-parachutes north ceased, and without it beneath them the boats simply drifted straight down. Right into the awaiting net. It was a brilliant catch, and Lennard and Brug could not help but cheer, for King John of Aaun and the High Pontiff were both snagged! Their flight, in both meanings, had been cut short by the movers of destiny that they claimed to have at their backs. Just as the king’s guards were about to hop out, perhaps to do battle to save the King and the Pontiff, Bo Amador and Warboss Apek, leader of the orcish contingent there, quickly scaled down Whitespire. It was as if they were climbing a rope, so fluid and peerless was their dexterity. Shocking the Aaunish soldiers into surrender, for they could see more soldiers quickly making their way down the wall after the two, no further fight needed to be had. Apek had carried chains during his descent, a show of strength as well as intelligence, for he soon had the soldiers shackled. The King of Aaun and the Pontiff were shown better treatment, and they were escorted to a small rowboat by Bo and a few of his soldiers. The return to Veletz was swift and without problem. It was as if the world had stood still for several hours. For his part, Lennerd was paid enough coin to allow him to buy a farm outside Tiel and marry his longtime village sweetheart, a cobbler’s daughter named Mariet. Brug was given a lifetime’s supply of roasted pig to eat, which he consumed in full within a month.
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Liberation of a Library 12th of The First Seed, 1858 “The need for knowledge sprouts from us all.” An army of Elves, accompanied by volunteers and mercenaries would storm the Capital of the Illegitimate State of Haelunor, in an attempt to take control of the city. The goal, to show the power of the Silver Princedom and take control of the city. The mighty warriors would travel by boat, reaching the secluded isle with relative ease. Upon reaching the shores, they would climb the steps of the Capital, the gates drawn as they neared, allowing the troops to enter the city with no resistance. Not a single troop was in sight. The Liberators were welcomed, with no present citizens opposing the righteous takeover. As the men and women liberators entered the city, they spread out to seize all aspects of the city. Some of the notable targets seized were the Citadel, Tavern, Military District, and of course, the Eternal Library. The takeover of the Library was headed by Prince Frederick I of Sedan, alongside several others. With no resistance, the Library was completely under the control of Frederick and the other accompanied warriors. The man would proclaim himself the Head-Librarian of the Frederick Library, and rename the building accordingly. The sign out-front would be changed with all due haste to reflect such. With the Library gates taken over and entrances guarded, the Library was completely under control. Throughout the days and nights, the gates would be watched with a keen eye from the greatest of gatekeepers, Altheya Valin’dar. Over time, many fellow fighters would come by and visit the Library, reading the various texts and conversing. Truly this Reformed Library was a glorious place, one where the company of others and intriguing unique texts could keep one entertained for hours upon end. May the Glory, Knowledge, and Prosperity of the Frederick Library continue for all Time. Due to the recent events that have transpired, we hereby proclaim the following: I - The Eternal Library is hereby dissolved, effective immediately. II - The Frederick Library is hereby proclaimed as the official successor to the Eternal Library. III - All the assets, land, and building of the Predecessor Library are now transferred and belong to the Successor Library. IV - Frederick Stanimar de Joannes, First of his name is hereby proclaimed and recognized as the Founder and Head-Librarian of the newly established Frederick Library. V - Altheya Valin’dar is hereby appointed to the position of Gate Guard of the Library. VI - Durin Hammerforge is hereby appointed to the position of Head-Guard of the Library VII - All signatories may bear the title ‘Liberator of Libraries’ for their efforts in the acquisition of the Library. VIII - All signatories agree to rally in defense of the Library, should the need be deemed necessary. Signed, HIS SERENE HIGHNESS, Frederick I, By the Grace of God, Sovereign Prince of Sedan, Count of Louisville, Haverlock and Döbern, Viscount of Fauconberg, Baron of Ponce, Avoria and Pyrmont, Protector and Lord of the Valley of Goats, the Haikaprier, Head-Librarian and Founder of the Frederick Library, Liberator of Libraries THE KEEN EYE, Altheya Valin’dar, The Bookkeep, Gate Guard of the Ancients and Frederick Library, Keeper of Knowledge, Protector of Time, Liberator of Libraries THE MIGHTY SMITH, Durin Hammerforge, Forger of Monk Stavz, Handsome Dwarf among Handsome Dwarves, Champion of Eating Competitions, Veteran Potato Farmer, Ally of the Sedanite People, Loyal Head-Guard of the Frederick Library, Liberator of Libraries
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Sutican Might Eternal 13th of The Amber Cold, Year 59 of the Second Age. Sutica Eternal, for Freedom, and Prosperity Sutican men of young and old travelled forth towards the Haelun’orian Capital. The men whose home was long gone still wished to uphold such patriotic values of Freedom, Trade, Equality, and Prosperity. Thus they marched forth to bring liberation to the High Elves, those who opposed the Sutican values. The Butchers In the Barracks The men of Sutica, totaling in ninety strong, marched on towards the High Elven Capital. Upon reaching the gate, they successfully took a hostage, baiting the High Elves inside to draw near the gate, causing a crowd to gather. The captive outside was searched and executed afterwards upon his distasteful actions and gestures. His blood and guts would splatter over the front gate, his corpse remaining lifeless, slowly decaying to time as all things did. Upon the death of the captive, the Haelun’orians clearly were upset, thus the inner gate was drawn and two hundred soldiers entered into it, prepared for battle, with hundreds more inside awaiting the liberators. The gates opened briefly where a brief back and forth ensured with no success at casualties on either side. The Haeluno’rians would close the outer gate, retreating back into their city. The brave Sutican men laughed at the Elven cowardice as they approached the citizen doors near the gate where the recent encounter ensued. With great skill, they picked their way in, chasing the Haeluno’rians further back into their city. The High Elves would further retreat back into their Barracks, cowering in the courtyard. However, the mighty Suticans and their justice would prevail, for Lady Sutica is mighty fine and inspired the warriors with a great intense thirst for Justice. Through scouting, they climbed atop the rooftops, where a back and forth ranged fight ensued for several hours. As the Sutican soldiers drew nearer and nearer, the Haelun’orians retreated further and further back, leaving the Barracks Courtyard and retreating back into the Barracks building itself. However, no wall, no lock, no building was mighty enough to fight the waves of her Lady Sutica and her people. With due haste, the Suticans took control of the Barrack walls and gate. Thus began the siege of the Barracks itself. Several balcony entrances were breached as the Suticans entered through there among other unexpected entrances. Where least expected, the forces would rush in, slaying soldier after soldier, moving with haste from location to location, working together, wave after wave like the Sea. In the end, the total of Haeluno’rians dead would total hundreds, close to the thousand mark. There were no survivors from Lady Sutica’s Justice. Sutica Eternal and her Justice Everlasting. Signed, Lord of Sutica; Baron of Sutica; Old Guard of Sutica; New Guard of Sutica; Potato Farmer of Sutica; The Embodiment of The Concept of Sutican Nationalism; Additional Sutican Watchmen
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When the Paper Doesn’t Hold 13th of The Amber Cold, Year 59 of the Second Age. The Silver Lubba Band out of patriotism for their old lands prepared, putting on Sutican guard armours and grabbed the old weaponry of Sutican origin such as halberds and simple bastard swords. 90 men and women donning the shields of the band headed out from the meetup point shouting the name of Sutica at the top of their lungs. They did not stop their shouting all the way from the long trek towards the beach to rowing across the sea to the very shores of Haelun’or. Bold and patriotic they did not care anymore for being sneaky and opted for effectiveness, cutting off one of the Sillumir soldiers in front of their gate, which too was quickly dealt with. After this quick manner of getting rid of a nuisance, men of stone were called forth, though the band quickly mobilized and used the exact same trick as they had done before, simply going through the citizen doors with their vast amount of lockpicks with relative ease. Once the door was heard to be picked from the inside of the square, it was apparent that the Haelun’orian forces retreated out of cowardice for the steel which their paper could not hold. Quickly a route was made to reach the forces hidden within the military hold of the Sillumir, though some of us had trouble as they had patched up our previous ways in. A solution was found rather quickly, sending out a small detachment of half the men forth which the rest slowly trickled in to prepare for battle. The Silver Lubba Band donning their Sutican armour found themselves on the rather sturdy rooves of the city as they shot down into the military base, catching them by surprise. A battle occurred, finally. Incompetence of their forces soon followed. The Silver Lubba Band simply opened and closed doors as they went for a more fun approach, blocking in those who went out and allowing our men and women to get in with relative ease for a charge. The elves within gave a fair battle, though clearly outmatched as they dropped like flies over time with our men and women all still standing at the end to slaughter the remainder of their livestock just in case. Unable to deal with simple mercenaries of old-Sutican origin and fearing them as we stand in front of their gates ready for another round. No casualties. No survivors. No hostages. ETERNAL WE STAND signed, The Silver Lubba
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The Band’s Offensive 12th of Snow’s Maiden, Year 59 of the Second Age. Today for the first time in history, The Silver Lubba Band and some people recruited from the roads to our way there have taken a hostile approach towards The Silver State of Haelun’or. landing on their shores with our rowboats the band and local support for a total of 90 men and women alike moved up to the Silver City without any resistance, opting for a more stealthy approach; we had blocked off the citizen doors and picked the first one open. This alerted the guards within the city so we went to reveal two of our bondsmen in front of the gate before promptly a charge was ordered by the folk inside, a mistake. The gates opened with a charge from the sillumir, quickly flanked by our remaining hidden forces, killing off one of their men in the process to make them close and hide behind their gates once again, thinking they were safe. A mistake once more as we opened the door and they simply opened the other one for us without question in an attempt to get the surprise, though we flew out with force and took more lives in the process with relative ease, barely any of the sillumir escaping from our steel to hide as their paper did not hold up against the might of the Silver Lubba. None of our men died and the city was left emptier than before as those who took up arms fled or were removed by force. No hostages were taken. Till we meet again. ETERNAL WE STAND signed, The Silver Lubba ((Screenshots because they are fun)) -
RECAPTURE OF THE BASTION 15th of Snow Maiden, Year 57 SA “Jesus Pablo is ballin’ out on Ferrymas” - Banjo https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CduA0TULnow 1,200 Tripartite forces composed of Ferrymen and Irehearts marched on the roads towards the heart of the Imperial Capital, New Providence, to deal a devastating blow to Imperial forces. Under the command of Captain Banjo and Commander Bakir Ireheart, the small band bandited the roads of Oren until they approached the bridge, all that stood in their way of entering the city was a 1,500 force o’ wig-wearing lobsters. One could say you could hear the rattle of their metal-bucket hats as they quivered in fear at the sight of the notorious Ferrymen. The battle first started at the foot of the bridge, where both sides exchanged arrowfire. Seeing as this exchange of volleys led to a stalemate, the Ferrymen tactically led a maneuver around the bridge, flanking the Orenian forces as they were caught in utter dumbfounded surprise. Their little lasting bravery was soon replaced by cowardice as they routed back to the security of their gates- or so they thought. They stubbornly attempted to push out of their gates, but they were met with dwarven steel and Ferrymen prowess as their men were slaughtered like dogs. The Imperials were very wrong to think they were safe behind their walls and gates. A small detachment of Ferrymen consisting of Jesus Pablo, Diome Indoren, Banjo, and Mika managed to breach past their iron doors and began to take the entire force on their own. There within the gates, Jesus Pablo showed his ferociousness and prowess on the battlefield as he single handedly charged in a moment of bloodlust into a group of Orenians. His savage charge proved useful as it opened the opportunity for the rest of the Ferrymen to push through the gates and into the hearth of the city. 1,100 Imperials dead. Once more the bastion and city fell to the hands of the Ferrymen. Signed, Banjo, The Captain of the Ferrymen, Savior of the Common and Free People, Pillager of Elvenesse, Liberator of Man, The Bringer of Equality, Capturer of the Bastion, Defeater of Racism, Debearder of Grand Kings, Sailor of the Seas, 2x Mr. Almaris, Emperor of the Roads, Heir to Shipman Keep. Bakir Ireheart, Clan Father of the Irehearts, Legion Commander, King’s Hand
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THE CITY STATE OF OREN AND ITS SURROUNDING MANORS Saint James Bleeds THE BATTLE OF NEW PROVIDENCE BRIDGE Twenty-thousand Tripartite. Seven-thousand dead. Forty-thousand Imperials. Twenty-Thousand dead. Those twenty thousand Tripartite surmounted the steps to New Providence, chins lifted to the skies and with grips of resolve to their weaponry. At the very front stood three - the commanders of the Tripartite. Captain Banjo, Diome Indoren and the Butcher of the East, Brick. Those three shared glances, for this is where their dawn had begun all those years ago - forty some. It was nearing the Saint’s year anniversary of the first bloodshed Orenia had received on Almaris. When they fought with five-thousand against sixteen-thousand, where all sixteen-thousand were slain and tasted their foremost major defeat. But a few of the old guard stood with them, yet the grumbles and chants of war still echoed from the side of the Tripartite. Against such unfavourable odds again, would they triumph once more? Any who witnessed the slaughter on the steps of Providence would answer with a resounding yes. Outnumbered two-to-one, facing a force of forty thousand Orenians, the Tripartite force valiantly charged the front gates of the city, where they exchanged numerous volleys of arrows with its defenders. After being forced to abandon their positions atop the walls by relentless arrow fire, the Orenian force consolidated and sallied out to meet the Tripartite army in battle. The first two of their charges were unsuccessful, being swiftly outmaneuvered and beaten back behind the walls of Providence. It was in the midst of these failed attempts that Diomé Indoren personally led multiple infantry charges against the enemy, ultimately leaving eight-thousand Imperials slain. To the dismay of the Tripartite commanders the third push of the Orenians found success, effectively splitting the already outnumbered force in two and crushing much of the Tripartite cavalry. Rather than capitalize on this, the Imperials saw fit to blindly chase a band of no more than four-thousand Tripartite soldiers all the way to the Urguani borderlands. These Orenians found themselves deftly evaded by the Tripartite men who managed to join the main force at (Providence Bridge) once again. Here, Auguste van Aert rallied his men and drove them against the scattered Imperials who remained, cutting down four-thousand before routing them toward Providence. As the other half of the Orenian army made their way back to the field of battle along the road from Southbridge they were harassed relentlessly by the cavalry of the Ferrymen. Seeing their weakened state the Butcher of the East led a lance charge into the Imperial cavalry, knocking most from atop their steeds and trampling them underfoot. Knowing their situation to be hopeless, the remainder of the Imperial army finally began their retreat. The Tripartite army, emboldened by their victory, gave chase as they ran for the safety of the walls of the capital. Hope was there for the assailants, seeing as the Orenians had turned charges and fought with some crumbs of honour. Yet, minutes turned into more – the Imperial State Army and those who took up arms with them had retreated into their fortifications a final time. At the climax of the battlefield, the last standing knight – Sir Mohammad Hassan – fought with Islamic fervor against Captain Banjo; he was last seen praying to Allah as a longsword impaled his midriff. (SIR MOHAMMAD HASSAN 4 LYFE)
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Get off Our Lawn 5th of Malin’s Welcome, Year 48 of the Second Age “‘Run trough dem’, but also turn back on dem.” [!] The missive would be posted around Almaris, specific copies of the missive would be sent to Urguan, land of the Dwarves. The reign of terror of the Ferrymen is now a mere memory of those who met our swords, but that does not mean we are vanquished. We lure in the dark, a retirement so call it, until we are brought back into the world to fight once more. A beast in slumber must not be poked, lest you wish to deal with a terminating conclusion. Once we are brought back into the world to serve our mission once more, it is not only Urguan who will suffer but the world. You have attempted to take advantage of our slumber Urguan, kicking us out of lands we were granted by Grand Kings before you. Your greed and stupidity will be your downfall. My terms are simple: You have but two options, the following which you may choose from: Get the **** off of our lawn. Leave our lands alone, our forts alone, and allow us to live peacefully in retirement. OR The nation of Urguan, for as long as I am Captain, will never be able to hire out our services. The nations of Almaris shall once again feel the fear of the Ferrymen. I expect your decision to be swift, a meeting if necessary can be arranged. Pick wisely Urguan, for the fate of the world rests in your hands. Signed, Banjo, The Captain of the Ferrymen, Savior of the Common and Free People, Pillager of Elvenesse, Liberator of Man, The Bringer of Equality, Capturer of the Bastion, Defeater of Racism, Debearder of Grand Kings, Sailor of the Seas, 2x Mr. Almaris, Emperor of the Roads, Heir to Shipman Keep.
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11th of the First Seed Bloodlust answered with Dwarven Ire The Moon rose into the black sky as the sun fell back behind the orcish city. As the orcs and their slaves alike gathered in the Krugmar square, huddling around the lit campfire for warmth the generals of Krug stood around ready to give a speech. Urguani Forces led by Grand King Levian’Tol Grandaxe and Bakir Ireheart moved into the city with a company of 90, made up of Dwarven Legionnaires, Men of Blackwald, The Rustlers, and the GOATS, with compliments of the The Silver Lubba band. They charged the square quickly, cornering one of the Krugmarian Generals, the Urgani force was quickly surrounded by 135 Urks of Krugmar. The Urguani forces slammed their swords and axes together preparing for Battle. Bakir stepped forward asking the cornered general “Where is your Rex? Bring him to us.” Some orcs in the group surrounding them chuckled and awaited the response of their Targoth. The Krugmar General simply responded “Our Rex is dead, died of a heart attack” Bakir shrugged, going to lift his axe pointing it at the throat of the orc “Then we shall take you instead.” With that an orc war cry rang out, the circle of orcish warriors collapsing on the group of 90 dwarves surrounding the Grand King and the Krugmar General. Battle ensued, Urguani and Krugmar forces clashing, the sound of battle filling the streets of the city. The Orcs were quickly driven back into their own gatehouse, orc bodies filling the square with not one dwarf being scathed. The remaining warriors of Krug and with their two Generals hid in the gatehouse expecting to be safe from the dwarves that were waiting inside. The Warriors of Sedan and Silver Lubba suddenly pushed into the gates where the orcs were hiding, quickly overcoming them and dealing with them easily. Axes and swords were raised into the air and thereafter, Urguan War Cries filled the Orcish square as the corpses of Krug’s kin began to rot. The Raid party then returned to Kal'Darakaan. Victorious, hauling a sack of orcish heads behind him.
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THE START OF THE LONG DISPUTE [!] A well drawn picture of a few rustlers outside of the gates of Elvenesse. Just over two years had passed since the last attack on the Woodland Realm. The elves of Elvenesse had thought they were safe... But everything changed when the Rustlers attacked. Today is a day of triumph. The Wardens- cowards. Sitting high up in their towers, useless to the onslaught the Rustlers brought upon them. Arrows flying through the air- falling upon rock and dirt, only to be picked up and loaded into the crossbows of the very Rustlers they were shooting at. No iron clashed upon any soldier, no blood was spilt. - The citizens took their place. Massacred, robbed from, forced into hiding during the slaughter. No Wardens on horses rode through the city. Instead, they hid in their tower in an act of cowardice. Time and time again, Elvenesse has lied - coming up with continuous nonsense about winning raids, killing people, and the ‘might’ of their cowardly army. No more shall it continue. They shall be brought to light for their chants of ‘victory’ over the likes of the Orcs, Rustlers, and Ferrymen. This marks the start of the long dispute. [!] A well drawn picture of the rustlers after they stole a painting of an elven warrior. [!] A well drawn picture of the rustlers.
