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TO SCALE THE SPIRES Grandest Siege Of The Year 21 Age of Dragons. ♩♫♪♬ FROM THE COAST TO THE SPIRES! “You’re lagging behind gents! You’re lagging behind, haul up those cannons; crack out the shovels; we got to dig in! We need ladders, ladders, ladders! This war is just about won, but there's just another on the horizon. We ought to brave the horizon. Fellas we ought to surround them once and for all- end this war! I’ve got the plans, I’ve got the guns! Come on lads forwards!” -Yohan Maximilian Valentin-Kaczyn ONE FINAL MARCH! As the war nears its conclusion orders are set for once final siege, the storming of the great MONKEY LANDS now called VORTICE, high terraces that pierce the sky, will they be reached, or will the desperate tribes of defenders repel the Crusade!? THE WUNDERWAFFE! Within the halls of Lurak in shipments to the north safeguarded are components to the largest cannon ever devised, from a Goblin workshop. Its name: “THE REXKHAN,” safeguarded by the boy Commander the cannon passes through newly conquered lands, will it reach its destination or will it be stopped?! THE SIEGE OF THE MOUNTAIN TARGETED TILE: TILE_KARSTS_2 WAR CLAIM GOAL: ANNEXATION OF CAPITAL

THE FINAL ACT Formed with Faith, Honor, and Blood in 1998. A MESSAGE TO VORTICE “Where does the blood of VIKEL flee if not to the North? And upon their tails- the Wolf of Lurak.” The demands laid before you are of the coalition of Honest States, Cannonist Leaders, and the Vicar of God. Refusal to agree to these demands will result in death and destruction. Heed them well citizens of the Monkey Mountains, lest your disgraceful lives be given to forfeit. DENY the demands and the Holy March will continue. ARTICLE I: THE SURRENDER OF ARMS All soldiers of Vortice will lay down their weapons, any soldiers caught disobeying orders will be in violation of the article and therefore slain. ARTICLE II: SUBJUGATION TO GOD Vortice will be abolished as a sovereign nation, their people’s individual determination being left in the hands of the Holy Church of Canon to administer as regents; a governorship will be placed upon the land from which the Vorticians will subscribe. ARTICLE III: PAYMENT OF JIZYAH Vorticians will be relocated into their main sector province, their vast lands which lay mostly uninhabited will no longer be ruled by petty Lordlings as they will be forced to centralize. Under this management they will pay a yearly tax to the Holy See, a tithe “Jizyah” to continue mostly uninterred with customs deemed agreeable. ARTICLE IV: CONSTRUCTION OF THE HOLY MOUNT The Vorticians will deliver regular supplies to the Holy See and the army of Lurak to construct shrines upon the most Holy Mount. EXTREME HILLS 4 EXTREME WARCLAIM! EXTREME!

What happened to those who weren't there wondering why the server was crashing. (AKA, canonists, orcs, and elfs attack Silasia like Hydrogen Bomb vs. Coughing Baby.) Spoilers: Based @Panchofor making this! Join the fight and save the halflings from annhilation, protect the rest of Aevos from a potential pandemic, and be remembered in one of the most important wars in the history of Aevos!

To the Orcs of the Khanate -=+=- -=+=- In response to recent events- the assumed slaughter of our Thain and my bitch ex-wife- Magnolia Collingwood, at the peace-talks of which she was promised safe passage to in order to discuss the purging of the supposed darkspawn in our lands- the lack of a response to the peace treaty sent to the Khanate in which our Shaman presence would be increased to aid in the excursion of the aforementioned darkspawn that the Khan had claimed to be dwelling within our lands- and the kidnapping of halfling children painted to be dark mages- ah crime a child’s soul is incapable of performing; We the Weefolk now send to the Orcs of the Khanate our demands, should they fail to be met, they shall face a most embarrassing defeat at the hands of the Shire-fyrd and those that have sworn to protect our peace-loving, neutral Shiredom, they are as follows: The Khanate shall put aside this childlike, unoriginal reform and return to its historical and well-regarded title of Krugmar, to distance themselves from this unwarranted grievance against their historical allies and friends. The Elders of the Rexdom shall call a tournament amongst their own in order for a strong, honourable and incorruptible son of Krug to take the place of the word twisting elf-lover that currently sits at the helm of Orc-kind. An outpost for the Shaman-Lodge is to be constructed on the location of the Vikelan camp so that any darkspawn that may appear to terrorize our people can be purged with ease- and that communication between our peoples may be swifter. Any Vikelan accused of being darkspawn that is found on or off of the lands of Krugmar by any that bear the Rex’s banner is to face a fair and spirit-respecting trial at the hands of the Shaman-Lodge in which they are tested for the accusations put against them. The to-be Rexdom of Krugmar is to vow to never involve the Weefolk in their warpaths ever again, at the threat of dishonouring themselves- and is to scowl in the faces of others that would do the same to us. Upon the selection of a new, respectable Rex, a grand feast is to be held to both repair broken friendships caused by this pointless conflict- and to mourn those that it has taken. Any elf that did not hold the title of honourary prior to the selection of the current Rex is to be exiled from the Rexdom to seek refuge elsewhere, where they shan’t whisper ill lies in the ears of Lurak’s successor, whomever they shall be. The Men of Lorraine that have been terrorizing the halflings at the order of the Khan, kidnapping the innocent, slaughtering children- and robbing those simply minding their own business shall henceforth be banished from the lands of Krugmar until they seek penance for their actions before the eyes of Billybob and those they have wronged. Should the Men of Lorraine appear within the Shire with the intent of causing grief to the peace-loving Weefolk, they are to be hunted to the ends of Aevos by the honourable Orcs of Krugmar. The birch-forest land unlawfully claimed by the Orcs within the claim of Silasia is to be returned to those who had declared ownership prior to it’s settlement. Fulfilment of these demands shall unquestionably restore the friendship between our peoples, and any questions of the honour of those that call Krugmar home. We sincerely hope those among the Rexdom that still value the old ways, and still hold a sense of honour shall take these demands and ensure that they are acted upon. And to the Khan- if you dare march upon the lands of the Halflings, a defenseless and pacifistic people- the world shall see you as we now do- an honourless, warmongering, cowardly tyrant who would rather prop up his Human and Elf companions rather than enacting the will of the Spirits; And those that march with you shall find naught but a shovel shaped dent in their noggins. Yours, now and forever- King King Cyris James Collingwood the first, the second, Friend to the Lurs, the Ungris and to those among the Rexdom with an ounce of honour to their name.

Your Dear Leader Speaks! "Good evening. Today, our fellow citizens, our way of life, and our very freedom come under attack in a series of deliberate and bad faith Orcish threats. Those demanded from us were in Vikela, before its fall; Butchers, Bakers, Candlestick Makers, Elves and Men; moms and dads, friends and neighbours. Thousands of descendants were suddenly displaced by evil, despicable acts of terror, others were slain where they stood. These acts of murder were intended to frighten the Eastern Alliance into chaos and retreat. But they have failed; our Union is strong. A great Alliance has been moved to defend a great people. These baseless threats may strike fear into the peace-loving Weefolk amongst us, but they cannot touch the foundation of Dúnwen. These brutes may have caused Vikela's walls to crumble, but they cannot dent the fine bluesteel that is the Halfling resolve. Dúnwen was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world, because we granted asylum to those who desperately needed it. And no one will keep that light from shining. Today, the East sees this evil for what it is, as the worst of Orcish nature. And we responded with the best of Dúnwen -- with the hospitality and kindness of the halflings. Our priority is to protect those who have been displaced and to take every precaution to protect our citizens at home and around the continent from further attacks. The functions of our Shiredom continue without interruption. Our Sheriff patrols day and night for the first sign of raiders. Our barns remain prosperous, and the Halfling economy will be open for business, as well. Dúnwen and her friends and allies join with all those who want peace and security in the world, and we stand together to win the war against Krugmar. Tonight, I ask for your prayers for all those who grieve, for the children whose worlds have been shattered, and for all whose sense of safety and security has been threatened. And I pray they will be comforted by a power greater than any of us, the benevolent embrace of Knox. This is a day when all peoples of the East from every walk of life unite in our resolve for justice and peace. Halfling kind has stood down enemies before, and we will do so this time. None of us will ever forget this day. Yet, we go forward to defend freedom and all that is good and just in our world." Thank you. Good night, and Knox bless Dúnwen.

Vikela Delenda Est Lurak Triumphant ♪ ♫ ♬ " Yes it is ours, The Tree of the Five, The Fallen UBUNTU, The Hallowcliffe . . . and were you not warned of the impending demise? Did I not speak to you before any blood was spilt, were our offers not just? That you rend your castles which brought nothing but ruin upon the Jungle? And yet . . . You denied our peace offers, you spit in our face not once, not twice, but four times. And so it is done. Your people will know no peace. Ever. I will see to this. Do not take my threats as idle, do not believe that because you have not been struck upon by marauders that I will not find whatever hovel you cockroaches crawl into. Because, that is what you are. You will crawl and find another nation to occupy, another forest to destroy, another UBUNTU to build. It is why I have made example of you. Your propagandists may paint us as Imperialists, go ahead- for it will let the others like you know that what you have done is not, nor will ever be tolerated. And so we march upon you. We finally destroy Ba'lance. Not Ping-Heng the captive of your ilk, but the statue of the daemon you worshipped. Your people will be wiped from the earth for you have had no semblance of remorse for your actions. The Cannonist Pontiff, GOD rest his soul, taught me to believe in forgiveness; but I have learned too- you cannot forgive the un-remorseful. Off to the Nether with you then. If you somehow come to your senses and kneel before the Rex, deliver to us your capital with all its treasures, we might find it in our hearts to spare you. Until then, we march upon your shoddy creation. Thank whatever GOD you worship it is us to deliver you, and not the others who would see you crucified. You will have a good death, full of honor; or what little remains of it. " ~The Final Letter of Daahd'Lur to Vikela. With this announcement, the REXDOM and its allies march to siege VIKELA. The demands have changed. Any former allies of Vikela will remain neutral lest they provoke the wrath of Lurak and be forced to pay reparations among other concessions. Allies of Vikela be warned: you have made your own bed, you now will pay the price of war. The REXDOM makes these demands which will be ceded in full or any peace will be denied: The removal of all structures built by Vikela. The replacement of the Queendom with stewards of the forest. The destruction of the daemon statue (it floats upon the waters without voidal intercession!) The destruction of the so-called tree of “five.” Accomplished. War Reparations from nations who oppose the just action of Lurak and prevent it from being a quick endeavor. The Relinquishing of claims over the southern 'Forgotten Valley,' by Vikela and Brabant. War Reparations from Brabant. The Destruction of the DEMONIC EVILS that VIKELA is conjuring at HALLOWCLIFFE, as well as the structure of IBLEES. Accomplished. War Reparations from the Vikelan Government to pay for the cost of War. The exile of Vikelans from the continent for eternity effective one year after unconditional surrender. The Fall of Ubuntu. Accomplished. The Fall of Vikela. WARCLAIM: JUNGLE_PLATEU_8 (VIKELA_CAPITAL) WARGOAL: THE REMOVAL OF THE VIKELAN ENTITY HENCEFORTH. ]

UBUNTU HAS FALLEN . . . THOUSANDS MUST SIEGE HALLOWCLIFFE. "To you who did not respect the Spirits Wishes for our battle to be a 'suit and tie' event, smell the blood in the air as we reave your fort of stone and mud, -whatever will it take for you to realize your follies? Will we have to muster upon your city or will you submit to the correct path. Yes, history will remember your fight. They will remember your armies and ours clashing, however only when they recall the reformations of the Uruk army and how our force disciplined and valiant slaughtered your men in castles of twisted collaboration with little casualty. Our armies will be more experienced, more driven, stronger than any on Aevos. Do not mistake this for a simple gloat, or an empty threat. It is a promise. Wherever the forces of the disparager march we will be behind, until we achieve full surrender. Look to the consequences of your resistance. Look how the demands heighten. Remember they only grow day by day, just as your forces resolve weakens. The Spirits are angry, they call for your desolation, they call for the return of the Jungles. 'Deliver this' they ask. Lo' I tell you of how we won upon Ubuntu. It was upon our first volley that a GREAT SPIRIT gave me premonition. The Spirit, one of memory showed me how the battle was to play out if we marched upon Ubuntu, a grand victory. It was the WATER SPIRIT who pointed me up your walls, it showed me how your armies would be slaughtered- at the moment of our victory my mind was made spectral and I could not thrust my blade into your bodies, nor slash your necks- then only did I know it was a premonition of things to come. TRANSPORTED back to my siege camp I decided alone to continue bombarding you until we relieved ourselves of ammunition. Why? Because it terrified your troops and slaughtered them, because it was RIGHTEOUS. This is how UBUNTU FELL. Remember this, the SPIRITS are upon our RIGHTEOUS side." -The second letter of Daahd'Lur to the Vikelan peoples. With this announcement, the REXDOM and its allies march to siege HALLOWCLIFFE. The demands have changed. Any former allies of Vikela will remain neutral lest they provoke the wrath of Lurak and be forced to pay reparations among other concessions. Allies of Vikela be warned- you have made your own bed, you now will pay the price of war and your lands are considered hostile. The REXDOM makes these demands which will be ceded in full or any peace will be denied: The removal of all structures built by Vikela. The replacement of the Queendom with stewards of the forest. The destruction of the daemon statue (it floats upon the waters without voidal intercession!) The destruction of the so-called tree of “five.” Accomplished. War Reparations from nations who oppose the just action of Lurak and prevent it from being a quick endeavor. The Relinquishing of claims over the southern 'Forgotten Valley,' by Vikela and Brabant. (Tile 1 Birch Forest) The Destruction of the DEMONIC EVILS that VIKELA is conjuring at HALLOWCLIFFE, as well as the structure of IBLEES. War Reparations from the Vikelan Government to pay for the cost of War. The exile of Vikelans from the southern half of the continent for eternity effective one year after unconditional surrender. The Fall of Ubuntu. Accomplished. WARCLAIM: JUNGLE_PLATEU_9 (HALLOWCLIFFE) WARGOAL: THE REMOVAL OF THE VIKELAN ENTITY HENCEFORTH.

THE SIEGE OF UBUNTU "To the pitiful defenders of the siege at “The Tree of Five-Maehrnor”, your hallow walls have been brought asunder with but a few cannonballs and a singular ladder. This was your greatest fortress? How do you intend now to defend from our advance? Do you regret now spitting on the Sons of Krug? Hark, it is now in our grasp. Your Ubuntu… we only need to reach out and take it. From the ashes of your abominations will grow the largest flora in Aevos, your blood is only watering the ground of the returning Zag’hal of Zag’bal. Defend this Ubuntu for our warriors thirst for another battle, this siege did not sate desire; but know the longer you take to give in the more our demands will heighten." -Letter of Autarch Daahd’Lur to the defenders of the Castle Ubuntu. With this announcement, the REXDOM and its allies march to siege UBUNTU. The demands have changed. Any former allies of Vikela will remain neutral lest they provoke the wrath of Lurak and be forced to pay reparations. Remaining Allies of Vikela be warned- you will now pay the price of war. The REXDOM makes these demands which will be ceded in full or any peace will be denied: The removal of all structures built by Vikela. The replacement of the Queendom with stewards of the forest. The destruction of the daemon statue (it floats upon the waters without voidal intercession!) The destruction of the so-called tree of “five.” Accomplished. War Reparations from nations who oppose the just action of Lurak and prevent it from being a quick endeavor. War Reparations from the Vikelan Government to pay for the cost of War. The exile of Vikelans from the southern half of the continent for eternity effective one year after unconditional surrender. The Fall of Ubuntu. WARCLAIM: JUNGLE_PLATEU_10 (VASSAL_UBUNTU) WARGOAL: THE REMOVAL OF THE VIKELAN ENTITY IN SOUTHERN AEVOS.

Three years had passed since the initial declaration of Wahg. Three years of strife for the Concord of Coastal Companions. It began with the forging of the signature of the Lubba, and verbal abuse which caused the Serene State to withdraw. This act was followed shortly by the declaration of neutrality by Dunfarthing. It was the denial of peace which saw Vortice remove themselves from conflict. Call them cowards, call them 'backstabbers' but would you defend a so called 'ally' who neglects to defend themselves? Throw men and mina down the drain for a lost cause? Whatever the case, the Vikelans had ample time to prepare... The Orcish March waited. To the astonishment and wonder of the world who said: "Why do the Orcs not march upon them! Why do they not belittle them with savagery! Why?!" And the answer was simple. The Red Spirits. It was as with the declaration. The Great Shamans of Lurak went to the Lieutenants of the Four Great Red Spirits, the Blue Spirits, and asked them: "Shall we march, oh friends? The Green Spirits are with us! Oh Blue Spirits, wise in your opinion- why do we hold off on Wahg?" They replied. “DO NOT MARCH O' REX AND AUTARCH OF LURAK, DO MOT MARCH FOR YOU MUST WAIT. FOR IF YOU MARCH NOW YOU FACE THE CURSE OF THE SIXTY.” It was then the Shamans cried: "Oh the CURSE OF THE SIXTY! The Sickness of the Evil Spirits! Allies of Iblees they are! How can it be so that the Sixty (even after exile from the Spirit World) still vex us!" So they waited, and despite not knowing what this curse was they listened to the venerable BLUE SPIRITS, servants of the RED SPIRITS. And they were rewarded, a clear path was laid through what remained of the jungle and unassailed they began their siege. Even while freedoms were repressed in Vikela as was the way of the failed order of heretics. Wahg was upon the world once more.

UBUNTU MUST FALL THE DEMANDS OF LURAK “You admonish the land, you tear down the ancient trees, you annihilate all life and replace it with its twisted contort. The Shamans say the Spirit Freygoth and Zagbal are angered by the ruination of the jungle, the destruction.” The demands were set for the “Queendom of Vikela,” demands that many saw as too light a sentence for the desolation. "Remove your castles surrounding the capital and attempt to reforest the ancient land which lay scarred and barren; desolated." These demands were denied in council where it was brought to them upon the dissolution of the Confederation. With these demands denied there lay no pathway open to saving the jungle but through war and the replacement of old stewards with new. So it is that with confirmation of the REX and the AUTARCH, LURAK DECLARES AN OPEN STATE OF WAR UPON THE FALSE QUEENDOM OF VIKELA, VIKELA IS TO BE REMOVED FROM THE JUNGLES BY FORCE AND EXILED HENCEFORTH FOREVER. With this announcement, the REXDOM and its allies place themselves in opposition to Vikela and its allies and marches upon them. If Vikela’s allies abandon them to their desolation in their daemon worship, no harm will come to those who lay down arms. The REXDOM makes these demands which will be ceded in full or peace will be denied: The removal of all structures built by Vikela. The replacement of the Queendom with stewards of the forest. The destruction of the daemon statue (it floats upon the waters without voidal intercession!) The destruction of the so-called tree of “five.” Stipends from nations who oppose the just action and prevent it from being a quick endeavor. The permanent exile of the Vikelans from the jungle they destroyed. The Fall of Ubuntu. WARCLAIM: JUNGLE PLATEU 3: THE TREE OF FIVE. WARGOAL: THE REPLACEMENT OF THE DAEMON WORSHIPPERS WITH STEWARDS OF THE FOREST, THE ANNHILATION OF THE VIKELAN DESOLATION. IE: CONQUEST AND SUBSEQUENT TRANSFER FROM LURAK.

𝕻𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖓 𝕬𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕯𝖆𝖆𝖍𝖉 𝕲𝖔𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓 𝕮𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝕽𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 (𝕺𝕾𝕬)

𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖑 𝕯𝖊𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖂𝖆𝖗 𝕿𝖔𝖕 𝕾𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖋 - 𝕯𝖆𝖆𝖍𝖉 𝕲𝖔𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓 𝕮𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝕽𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 (𝕺𝕾𝕬) @femurlord

A SECOND ENCOUNTER WITH CHIEFTAINS OF REINMAREN YORE [!] A mural depicting Theoderic summoning the Reinmaren people for Moot. As the brave men and women of Reinmar settled down for the night after a day of preparation for the coming war against the Ravenswood, a vision would come to those that had been BLOODED. You would find yourself within what looked to be a tribal camp, your trained eyes darting around for hostile natives. You would feel an air of reprieve as a Reinmaren man in full armor, dented and scratched from multiple battles stood in front of you; the shadowed eyes of the man looked towards you, masked by an iron faceplate similar to those of the officers of the Host of St. Johann. You recognize this man as Theoderic, one of the two most fabled Chieftains of Reinmaren history. Ancient Reinmaren war drums bellowed in the distance. “I called you back here to remind you of the storied legacy you are to uphold, blood of my blood!” The graveled voice of Theoderic called, he would walk up and put a gauntleted hand on your right shoulder. “On your mantle, you carry me and Gelimar’s legacy, much like the Blooded brothers and sisters before you that have passed on and returned here.” He proclaimed, gesturing with an outstretched hand to the Reinmaren that stepped out of their yurts and removed their helmets, here you would see the familiar faces of brothers, sisters, parents, or other family and friends that passed on from your world. Another man in the armor of a Chieftain, much like Theoderic, would stand at his fellow Chieftain’s flank. This one you recognized as Gelimar, who’s gauntleted hand now laid on your left shoulder. “For those who live, fight for the glory of Reinmaria. For those who will die, die with honor, o’ kin of mine.” Rang his voice within your ears, the wisdom of both Chieftains etched into the very corners of your mind. Suddenly, clouds parted and briefly showed the glory of the Fifth Sky as Saint Johann, the namesake of your Host, came down to meet with his kin. “Glory to GOD who watches the world from His throne in the Seventh Sky.” The Saint proclaimed to all within the camp, Theoderic and Gelimar stepped back to allow Johann to talk with you. The Barclay Saint walked up to you, his very presence steeled the resolve within your Blooded Reinmaren soul. “Hark these words from your Father GOD, as His Word is the Absolute Truth: The ground within Ravenswood itself cries out for salvation, this is your purpose in this campaign. Purify that accursed land in the name of GOD.” Saint Johann explained, your focus drawn to his message. “You, kin of mine, may fight for glory, but do so in the name of GOD the Father.” The Saint would walk away from you as his Barclay blue eyes looked at the gathered crowd of Reinmaren. “Honorable are the ones who die in the name of our LORD, glorious are those that fight in His Name! WER RASTET, DER ROSTET!” Yelled Saint Johann, pounding his chest plate loudly with his fist, sounding like thunder, in a Reinmaren salute to all as he began to ascend back to his place within the Seven Skies. “WER RASTET, DER ROSTET!” All that gathered yelled, including yourself, as everyone returned a Reinmaren salute to Saint Johann in unison before the clouds parted and then concealed his pious visage. Once the clouds came back together and calmed, Gelimar’s visage stood in front of you. “It is time for you to return to your brothers and sisters, o’ kin of mine.” His voice reverberated behind his helmet’s iron mask as he laid a hand on your forehead, then spoke in the ancient Reinmaren tongue before everything went black. When you opened your eyes once more, you were back home within the Reinmaren Capital of Kretzen; laying in your bed as rays of sunshine seeped through the windows of your bedchamber. It was morning and in your soul, you held a freshly steeled determination that was ready for the war to come. WER RASTET, DER ROSTET.

CERULITE SECESSION Issued at Year 174 of the Second Age Music :) With our Most Serene March of Cerulia growing rapidly and dismissal of our Silver Lubba’s duties within Lurin to ensure the stability of the realm through court, we as the Cerulite Council have decided to secede from that which plagues our prosperity while showing mercy to our former overlords by not taking them out altogether. OUR DEMANDS Our demands are simple: Lurin is to secede the midplains in its entirety to Cerulia Lurin is to grant 2000 mina to Cerulia’s treasury Lurin is to grant Cerulia a barrel of Copper Ore Lurin is to grant Cerulia a barrel of Daemonsteel Lurin is to grant Cerulia 10 barrels of Steel Lurin is to grant Cerulia 5 barrels of tanned leather Lurin is to never lay claim to Cerulite lands Lurin is to purge the undead from its council through golem imprisonment Lurin is to deactivate the voidal tear underneath their city Lurin is to have their leader baptized into the true faith If our demands are not met then we will enforce these demands ourselves through any means necessary. ETERNAL WE MARCH signed, The Former Silver Lubba, Mika “The Resourceful” Anarion, Serene Marq of The Most Serene March of Cerulia and Minister of Defense of Lurin, Protector of the Lurinite Floodplains, Lord of Lubba’s Keep, Lubba Knight of Lurin, Founder of Lurin, Founder of Cerulia, Brickmaster of Lurin WARCLAIM: REBELLION WARGOAL: Tile_Floodplains_4 See you on the battlefield.

☩ ☩ ☩ "Will pride prevent peace? . . ." Over the last month I have penned hundreds of letters and corresponded with every Canonist Leader within the FAITHFUL FLOCK. While I have seen truths and lies among these, and heard sympathies and belittlements my offers remain the same. I will reiterate them publicly so all the FAITHFUL not just the KINGS and QUEENS may understand our position. Our people that choose to remain in the MIDDEN live in FEAR of not just their lives but their very SOULS. We understand that foul magic has made its way into the highest recesses of the HAENSETI court and invested the TSAR. They live with the constant threat of evil looming over them and stealing not just their livelihood and home but that of their children. Because of this… We, the Winburgh Uprising, men and women (formerly called soldiers of Midden, and now resign ourselves simply to be WARRIORS of GODAN) will lay down our arms if the following conditions are met: An occupying force other than that of the HAENSETI EMPIRE takes control of the city, overseen by the HOLY MOTHER CHURCH. An independent and NON-BIASED investigation is launched into the case of ALEKSANDR consorting with the LICH. Furthermore, I, SIR RADMIR MONTALT, will (if sworn on Holy Relics our offer will not be backpedaled) offer myself as hostage to the alliance so long as my host is not of HAENSE. If these conditions are met, my soldiers will STAND DOWN, and follow all terms of agreement. This offer stands, lives will not have to be lost, the security of your nations does not have to be compromised. We, the people of Midden, entrust our lives to the FAITHFUL. There is nothing that justifies an unjust massacre, will the pride of the HAENSETI prevent the Covenant from PEACE? -SIR RADMIR MONTALT

☩ ☩ ☩ "To all true Canonist Patriots . . . " It is decreed that defenses be laid for the oncoming siege. In accordance with the Grand Marshal's vision the BURGUNDYIST STATE OF MIDDEN will adopt the SAMSONIST DOCTRINE entailing…. A resurrection of the HOLY CHURCH OF CANON within the walls of Winburgh to be supervised by the HIGH OFFICE of BISHOP. The Church in Haense has proven itself to be corrupt in arguing against the excommunication of a known LICH-CONSORT, and thus all good men and women of Canondom are asked to flock to the streets of Winburgh in worship and praise. The cities prayers are said, like a forcefield, to repel all false Canonists, ADULTERERS, and LICH-CONSORTS. In accordance with a promise once given to BISHOP CALLAHAN, SIR RADMIR decrees that the idolatry of the BRASS BULL shall not make a return to the city as long as it is ruled by true Canonists. The city of Winburgh calls upon all true MIDLANDERS both domestic and abroad to support the growing war effort against the boastful, false, treacherous, lecherous, deceitful, snake-tonged, liar, feigned, evil, cruel, malicious, disgraceful, rude, adulterer, gross, disgusting TSARIST forces. As the SWORD of CANON we will annihilate the forces of EVIL, or DIE trying. “The APOCALYPSE nears… FIGHT- FIGHT for your SOULS.” -Grand Marshal SIR RADMIR MONTALT, LORD PROTECTOR APPARENT of the BURGUNDYIST STATE of MIDDEN. (Watch Below)

Chronicles of the Reinmaren The Siege of Fredericksburg Issued by the HAUPTMANN OF REINMAR On this 17th day of Tobias’ Bounty in the Year of our Lord 1959 To The Reinmaren People: On this day, a force of Reinmar Horsemen rode down to the steps of the fortified keep of House von Theonus with the Grand Covenant against the forces of Veletz and their allies. The action started with a devastating Covenant volley of cannon fire, trebuchet, and arcane power directed at the enemy’s own siege weaponry and their meager fortifications of dirt and stone. The Reinmaren Warband, standing five-hundred strong and led by His Serene Highness Leon Barclay and His Princely Grace Alfred Barclay, descended from the Coalition’s fort and stormed the throne room of Castle Aurelian with the rest of our holy host. Those of the green and blue held the throne and courtyard captive as scouts called out the positions of the enemy. As the throne room and courtyard was completely within Covenant control, our pious band, prayed over and assisted by the Prince-Emeritus and Cardinal of Albarosa, and the Coalition’s own cavalry drove the Horde of the Anathema into a befuddled frenzy and routed them. All but ten cowardly men were slain, those surviving ran as the bodies of their brothers and sisters-in-arms laid scattered among the rubble of the Stassionite keep and surrounding hills. After everything was said and done, victory was taken in hand with the raising of our banner and a cheer, echoed by the Reinmaren Warband before riding back home to live and celebrate another blessed day. Saint Edmond, as my brothers go to battle over the coming years, grant them fortitude and protect them. Pray for GOD to show mercy to the dead, and that in hoping for victory today, we may win the peace tomorrow. GOTT MIT UNS, Hauptmann of Reinmar Meyster Alchimist of Reinmar

INTO THE JUNGLE - A LION - OUT A MOUSE Beneath the southern sun, the armies stood. Across the expanse of Hippo’s Gorge, broken only sporadically by freshly-sawed palisades and earthen bulwarks, the forces of the Grand Covenant stared northward at the Veletzian-Krugmar host. The Orcs and reavers cheered and heckled as their cavalry formed lines between the brush. Though outnumbered, they showed no fear; they were, after all, the great victors of the Battle of Westmark, where they had brought the advance of the Covenant infantry to a screeching halt, and it was they who had left no land unscathed by raids and pillaging over the long Saint’s winter. The mounted legions of the Covenant stared down their foes amassing on their horizon, and they raised no cheers of their own. And yet, as the banners of Norland, Petra, Balian, Numendil, Aaun, Urguan, Hyspia, and Haense streamed in the wind, and thousands upon thousands of steel-tipped lances gleamed in the sunlight, it was not despair that gripped them. Instead, it was defiance. That defiance smouldered in Viktor Daemonsteel. The Duke of Vidaus gripped his poleaxe, from which tassels in the colours of House Ruthern flew, as he glared across the gorge. He had earned his moniker in the heat of Valdev’s forges, where he had hammered countless iron and daemonsteel day and night to replenish the Covenant armoury. That defiance burned in Patriarch Josef. The Patriarch of Jorenus sipped his canteen of vodka as he squinted through the sunlight, and his mare struggled to hold his weight. Throughout the long winter, he had lived in the barns and stables of the north to procure fresh hides to sate the endless demand for leather. He had become the bovine reaper, feared by all cows, and he had defended those barns with every fibre of his being. That defiance blazed in Queen Amaya, the White Flame of Haense. As she sat atop her horse, enwreathed by her gold-worked satin cloak, she no longer trembled as she held her weapon. She had learned the nature of war in that winter, for she had been taken captive when she took up arms to fight in a raid. But she did not fear; not anymore, and her radiance instilled the same bravery in the Haeseni horsemen at her side. When the battle began, that defiance blazed through the Covenant army like an inferno. Like a bolt of lightning, Captain Banjo led his fabled warriors of the Yachtsmen as skirmishers on the rear of the battlefield, biting devastating holes into the Veletzian flank with each pass. Under a hail of arrowfire, the main cavalry under King Aleksandr held their ground as they waited for their opportunity to charge. Beneath their visors and faceguards, their jaws were set grimly, and their eyes burned with the heat of that inferno. When Captain Banjo signalled the first charge, King Aleksandr led the cavalry in sweeping tide of deadly lances into the disorganised right flank of the Veletzian army, and it was with a fury for the capture of Queen Amaya that the Haeseni riders sliced the flank into ribbons. When the second charge came and the Covenant cavalry thundered across the Gorge once more, it was with a vengeance of the Red Coronation that the Balian defenders with a malice never before attributed to them. With the third charge, the Petrine Knights exacted their blood-price for their burnt and murdered clergy. Finally, the Covenant horses turned and fell back to their palisades in a feinted retreat. When the remnants of the Veletzian invaders pursued, it was then that Captain Banjo charged his Yachtsmen through the brush, and slammed into the midriff of the Veletz column; Balor Ireheart, Sigrun Ireheart (stonehammer), Otto Ludovar, Ser Garen, Sigmar, Emilio Jr, Ser Rickard (and his herd), and other valiant Yachtsmen. With the final trap sprung, the Covenant banners were hoisted high as the main cavalry veered around, and galloped into the Veletzians as they were caught in the Yachtsmen lances. The Veletzians, who entered the battle as lions, scurried in defeat like mice from the battlefield. As fifteen-thousand horses bore down on their foe, the Covenant roared with that defiance. As fifteen-thousand warriors charged into the frey, any question of their unity was silenced. As fifteen-thousand lances struck in unison, the Battle of Hippo’s Gorge was won.

ONE LAST SWIM TEST “Poor is the pupil who does not surpass his master.” - Captain Banjo As Captain Banjo looked out from his war camp - his gaze met his former students on horseback repping their green bandanas. Hidden from his soldiers, a smile enlightened Banjo’s face as he recognized many of the faces of those fighting against him. He thought to himself: “Perhaps, this is the day my students surpass their Captain.” He chuckled at the thought of it and as the bombardment of the siege equipment commenced, he charged out with a small detachment of the Covenant’s finest - Garen and Sigmar Baruch, Vasili Vanrov, and others. His men engaged the horsemen with their bows, but seeing the war camp pummeled with fire - he decided to charge upon the enemy’s cannons. “Charge!” He yelled, commanding the entire Covenant force to charge at the enemy’s entrenched positions. Fear must have struck into the poor Van Aerts & Ferrymen’s hearts who were manning the cannons as they saw the legendary Captain Banjo at the forefront of the charge and the first on their battlements. As the skilled captain and his personal guard quickly slayed the enemy’s fear-struck soldiers, the remaining Covenant forces poured into the enemy’s position quickly slaughtering the enemy and destroying their cannons. Satisfied from their push, the Covenant forces pulled back to their camp to continue their bombardment of Brasca. Not shortly after, the enemy returned to their positions on the lower cannons. Captain Banjo pondered: “Why? Did Vyllaenen, Istvan, and Gustaf Van Aert not learn?” Upon seeing this, the mighty Captain and his companion, King Aleksandr III, ordered another charge upon the enemy lines. The enemy died just as quickly as they did returning to their beloved cannons. As Covenant artillery battered the enemy fort with their fire, Captain Banjo took his special force - Yacht Team 6 - to the western tower of the fort where many of the Ferrymen were. His small band clashed with the Ferrymen and their allies before the Ferrymen retreated back into their tower behind their gate. It was there he laid his eyes on his pupils - Django and Vyllaenen - and right next to them the gate controls! He raved as his former apprentices attempted to leverage one of his own strategies - gate trapping - to beat the Captain! “Ah - the classic gate trap strategy. It has a 100% success rate against Orenians” As soon as the gate opened once again, the Captain stormed the tower, but when they closed the gate thinking they trapped him, the Captain outwitted his students and used the gate controls to let in his remaining soldiers. It was in fact here where Vyllaenen met his blunder, as he was slayed, along with his Van Aert companion. “Perhaps the student still needs to learn a bit more - at least Django was smart enough to live!” He rejoiced knowing at least one of his students had learned something. As he reunited with the main force, the Covenant men committed to one last final push to break the remaining Adrian & Ferrymen forces. It was here where most of the enemy ultimately met their fate. As he reflected on his victory, he could only be disappointed by his former men’s performance. He wrote to his former ferryfriends, “Today’s lesson of the day: the swim test. Those who cannot swim should follow the Captain on his ship - not drown following those who cannot lead.” 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, Lord of Shipwreck Keep, Occupier of New Providence, 40 Star General, The Greater Lobster Fisherman, Premortem Saint of Epic Ballads, Grand Admiral of Haense, Emancipator of the Scallywags & Sailors, Steward of Breakwater Ruins

THE BATTLE OF BREAKWATER KEEP A hawk drifted through the morning sky. Its wings spread, it cawed as the rolling green plains of the Aevosian Heartlands spread out beneath it. Over pastures and farms did the hawk fly, casting its soaring shadow on the quilted landscape of budding amber grain, as it flew northward beneath sparse clouds. It rode the wind northward, leaving behind the sparse smattering of keeps, farmhouses, and manors in the vicinity of Winhburg, and it crested the hills in the northern Heartlands. On the other side of those hills, the teal towers of Breakwater Keep, citadel of the infamous Ferrymen reavers, cast long shadows in the morning sun. But those shadows did not fall across the usual barren stretch of fields surrounding the keep. Instead, the sun and shadows fell upon an army. Atop the ramparts of Breakwater, banners streamed. The star of Celia’nor flew alongside the burgundy bull of Veletz above the forces of the keep’s defenders, wearing steely determination beneath their helmets and cowls, while the black-red scorpion standard of the Iron Horde was draped over the stakewalls that ringed around the keep. Across an expanse of trodden and churned mud rose a bulwark of earth and wood, and it was there that the Covenant banners billowed in all their dozens of colours. There was the purple-blue-and-white of Aaun, standard of the 2,000 soldiers marshalled by the freshly-crowned King John Alstion; the regal crimson of the 3,000 Petrine warriors, there alongside their child monarch Queen Catherine; the Ashtree of Norland, carried by its 2,000 warriors from the far north, who made the long march for a righteous battle; the four-pointed white star of the 1,200 of Numendil, rallied to the Covenant cause in the name of justice and piety; the purple-white of King Adrian’s 3,400 of the Balian Armada, who were first to take up arms in defence of their honour; the orange-grey of the 2,000 Urguani legionnaires, ever eager for battle; the rich blue of Cesar II’s 2,000 Hyspian skirmishers; and 7,400 seasoned Haeseni soldiers, many of them veterans of the Adrian War, under the direct command of King Aleksandr, the Covenant’s commanding general. As the morning sun slowly climbed above the horizon, the grass sparkled with the night’s dew, and the light flashed against the thousand of spear points jutting above the stakewood walls of the Covenant’s siege encampment. Instead of the usual calm sigh of the morning wind as it blew through the trees, Breakwater was a ceaseless torrent of noise; countless boots stomped against the ground as the Covenant arrayed their colossal force of 20,000 soldiers and officers’ voices echoed in the air. “SQUAD FOUR AND SEVEN, FALL IN!” “PIKEMEN, TO ME!” “TWO MORE ON THE ARTILLERY!” As that hawk glided above it all, the Covenant forces bustled like ants. 20,000 - one of the greatest armies marshalled in all Descendant history - formed up in their resplendent mail and national banners, their eyes and hearts fixed on Breakwater and its garrison of 15,000 Men, Orcs, and Elves. As the hawk continued on its flight, a lone feather drifted down, stirring on the wind as it fell to the Covenant camp. As it made its slow descent, so too did time seem to lull as the Covenant forces awaited the order. In that calm before the storm, seconds seemed to stretch into hours and the enormity of what awaited the army weighed on them. Marius Lovetts of Valfleur, a Petrine armsman, held his longbow with a tremble. He had hunted deer before, but never had he drawn his bow against another person. But, as he stared across the palisades to the walls of Breakwater, he searched for his resolve. He pictured the face of his beloved little sister back in Valfleur, who was the same age as their Queen, Catherine -- the same Queen who had almost been cut to ribbons by Veletzians who had stormed the city after the Queen failed to do their bidding. “You bastards,” he hissed under his teeth, his breath steaming in the morning cold. As his hand reached into his quiver, it did not quiver with fear -- it trembled with rage. “I’ll never let any of you threaten a child again!” Boon of Merryweather ran an oiled cloth along his sword as orders were shouted all around him. He stared into the polished reflection of his blade, and his scarred and eyepatched expression stared back. He had been among one of the guards in Aaun when the Stassion rebels had murdered King Edmund - the king they had been sworn to obey, and the king he had been sworn to protect. Boon felt no fear as he took to a knee in the middle of the camp, and bowed his head as he gripped the blade. “I failed you then, King Edmund,” he whispered to the steel, “but I will not fail you today.” Farald; Brotherhood of Saint Karl, he stepped back and dusted off his hands once the trebuchet had been calibrated. Unlike many of the greener soldiers around him, he wore an ecstatic smile, for today would finally be his chance to follow in the footsteps of his forefathers. His father had fought the Adrians after their rebellion on Almaris; his grandmother had served under King Karl III when he laid waste to the Kingdom of Oren; and his great-grandfather had been one of the honoured standard-bearers for the Brotherhood at the fabled Battle of Eastfleet. Farald grinned so broadly it began to hurt; for him, killing Van Aerts was simply the family business. The descent of the hawk’s father finally ended as it fell upon the helmet of a Norlandic warrior, and with it ended the calm. A warhorn peeled across Breakwater as the signal was given, and the battle began. The air erupted with roars of ‘Krusae Zwy Kongzem’, ‘Tandem Triumphans’, ‘In Hoc Signo Vinces’, and dozens of other battle-cries as the Covenant initiated their attack. It began to rain, but it was not the soft rainfall of early summer: rock and fire rained down upon Breakwater as the Covenant siege engines sang under the command of Patriarch Josef, Dante DeNurem, and High Keeper Ellenore. The white stone was stained black with soot as the cannons rocketed, and the teal tiles of towers splintered across the keep as trebuchets hit their mark. While the united Covenant siege engineers began their bombardment, the rest of the Covenant forces stood in airtight formations; King Aleksandr II oversaw the main force, alongside Rickard of Valdev and Django Mareno who shielded the artillery team, while the joint Petrine-Balian army under King Adrian, Percy de Lyons, and Villorik var Ruthern assumed the rear-guard of the encampment, while Cesar II’s Hyspians held the gate itself. The defenders of Breakwater, however, did not stand idle as their fort began to crumble. Squads of elite Ferrymen horsemen took to the field, weaving their steeds between occasional volleys of Covenant arrows, encircled the Covenant encampment in small knots and pried for weaknesses with their bows and javelins. Yet, for all their skill, they found no easy pickings at the Covenant encampment; at the rear, the Petrine-Balian army ruined any hope of a flank, while King Aleksandr’s force peppered any horseman who neared the Covenant artillery with arrows. Eventually, every horseman returned to the keep with an unbloodied blade. And so, for hours, the rain of rock and smoke continued. The Veletzian trebuchets were destroyed before the sun reached its apex at noon, and Breakwater’s garrison were forced to shelter beneath what walls remained standing as the Covenant fired relentlessly. By an hour after noon, the first teal tower fell, and splintered into the earth. By three hours after noon, the second fell. As the sun began to ebb towards the western horizon, the siege engines slowed as ammunition fell scarce and the barrels of the cannons begun to malform from the heat, and the waiting soldiers of the main army and the Petrine-Balian army marched on the spot to prevent their legs from going numb. At five hours after noon, the signal was given. “THIS IS OUR PEACE!” came the splitting roar of King Aleksandr from atop the Covenant bulwark. With Svetjlast, ancient blade of the Ruska kings, in arm, he levelled the tip towards the crumbling ruin of Breakwater. “CHAAAAARGE!” Petra. Balian. Aaun. Norland. Numendil. Urguan. Hyspia. Haense. Not always had these nations been comrades throughout history, and on precious few occasions had they even all thought of one another as friends. And yet, on that day - the day that Breakwater was smashed - they charged as one, and fought side-by-side in one of the greatest armies ever fielded by Descendant-kind. Together, they buried their pikes into the Orcs of Krugmar as they crossed the muddied battlefield; united, they sunk arrow after arrow into Celia’norian Elves on the slope to Breakwater; and, as one, they rent the flesh and shattered the bones of Veletz as they stormed the ruined corpse of Breakwater. Both lines broke in the shadow of Breakwater, but no soldier was dettered as a bloody melee ensued. The splintered stone of Breakwater was painted crimson as the Covenant pressed their colossal numerical advantage, and not even the legendary Ferryman tacticians could stem the tide. Sigrun Stonehammer, marshal of Urguan’s legion, bested a Ferryman lieutenant in the fields outside the keep, while a Captain of Adria was wounded by King Aleksandr in the woods fringing the battlefield. One by one, the banners over Breakwater fell. The scorpion of the Iron Horde was crushed in the melee. The Celia’norian star was shredded by stone shrapnel. The bull of Veletz was the last to fall; as it was sliced from its halyards from the flagpole in the main keep, there was a brief moment of silence as the burgundy cloth drifted to the ground. Then the cheers came like a thunderclap. For on that day - the 16th of the Sun’s Smile - the Covenant prevailed. On that day, history was written. On that day, Breakwater Keep fell. T H I S I S O U R P E A C E .

ADRIFT; A NEW HARBOR “If you’re going to be onboard - be onboard. If not, just sail away because you’re just a scallywag” - Captain Banjo “Django… Vydrek… Jesus… Brick… Andronikos… Leonidas… Valentin… Adzy… Lyulen… Father…” He murmured as he looked upon his depiction of the original founders of the Ferrymen in his galleon. As he sat on the helm of his newly acquired galleon (financed by his victory over the Van Aert family), a dream in his sleep - a message from Godan himself. [Chat GPT write a message from God calling Banjo to fight for Haense/God] As Banjo awoke abruptly from his slumber, he reached over to his night stand and grabbed his green bandana once more - one last final time. He made his way to the helm of his galleon, making way to the shores of Aevos. Invigorated, he put up his sails and walked to the hull of ship where the previous name of the ship read: “King Phillip’s Folly” And put an X through the name of the ship, before writing next to it: “Vyllaenen’s Blunder.” As he docked in the harbor of Haense, his oldtime ally, with his newly revised and upgraded flag, he strutted off his ship and made way to the royal palace. THE FOLLOWING TERMS HAVE BEEN AGREED UPON BY BANJO AND ALEKSANDR II: I. Captain Banjo and his yachtsmen will rally their banners to fight with the Covenant. II. Captain Banjo will be titled ‘Grand Admiral of Haense’ and given supreme authority over (naval) wartime decisions. III. Captain Banjo will be given stewardship of Breakwater Keep ruins for the rehabilitation for any Post Siege Stress Disorder (PSSD). IV. Captain Banjo will emancipate all sailors and scallywags from the influence of Van Aerts. V. The agreement between Banjo and Aleksander II will be voided at the conclusion of the war. HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Aleksandr II, by the Grace of Godan, King of Hanseti and Ruska, Grand Hetman of the Army, Hochmeister of the Order of the Crow, Prince of Bihar, Dules, Lahy, Muldav, Slesvik, Solvesborg, and Ulgaard, Duke of Carnatia, and Vanaheim, Margrave of Korstadt, Rothswald, and Vasiland, Count of Alban, Alimar, Baranya, Graiswald, Karikhov, Karovia, Kaunas, Kavat, Kovachgrad, Kvasz, Markev, Nenzing, Siegrad, Torun, Toruv, Valdev, and Werdenburg, Viscount of Varna, Baron of Astfield, Buck, Esenstadt, Kraken’s Watch, Kralta, Krepost, Lorentz, and Rytsburg, Lord of the Westfolk, Protector and Lord of the Highlanders, etcetera. 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, Lord of Shipwreck Keep, Occupier of New Providence, 40 Star General, The Greater Lobster Fisherman, Premortem Saint of Epic Ballads, Grand Admiral of Haense, Emancipator of the Scallywags & Sailors, Steward of Breakwater Ruins

Issued and averred by His Royal Highness Prince PAUL ALEXANDER in the year of our Lord 1953 PAUL ALEXANDER by the GRACE of GOD PRINCE of the PETRA The Coalition has besieged the Ferryhold – it is no longer. As many as thirty-five thousand soldiers rallied to the call to arms by Her Majesty the Queen Catherine I to aid the Coalition in destroying Our enemies; the Ferrymen, the League and their Allies. There does exist a personal grudge against the Anathema Gaspard, who had viciously ordered my abduction at the hands of the Ferrymen in the quiet of the night. It was then I was hauled to the same Keep that no longer stands. Much recollection from this event supersedes me, but I know mine enemy. We fought, and we won. Rejoice! Ave Le Petrére. “They do nol know of our strength, but the time is nigh for them to learn.” The Queen-Emeritus Renilde, the Prince Paul, and the Prince Marcus holding Breakwater Keep, c. 1953 @tilly@Chorale__ @Andustar WITNESS Ourselves at the Royal Palace on the 11th day of the Suns’s Smile in the year of our Lord 1953 / 98 Astana de Regne Petrére. Faithfully Signed, His Royal Highness, Paul Alexander of the Petra, Prince of the Petra, the Prince of Valfleur, Lord Chamberlaine of the River Court of the Commonwealth, Elector of the Garmont Assembly, Patriarch of the House of the Petra de Valfleur

TO PURGE A THREAT Agreed upon by: THE KINGDOM OF HAENSE & THE GRAND KINGDOM OF URGUAN On this 10th of Tov And Yermey, 432 ES | 10th of The Amber Cold, 82 SA The Dual Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska and the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, has now learned that the Horde has resorted to associating itself with foul elements. Furthermore, wishing to defend the honor of the Grand Kingdom of Urguan so recently besmirched, by the authority of His Royal Majesty King Karl III Barbanov-Bihar and Grand King Bakir Ireheart declare themselves to be in a state of war. A campaign shall be pursued until all forces, offensive to nature itself, are neutralized, and levied insults against the Grand Kingdom are remedied. “And to ye Sons of Krug, who have fallen to other faiths, I admonish: GOD punishes not, but protects. And there is no pain with GOD, but without him. And so you suffer not in retribution but in separation, and in the Skies you shall find solace.” - Exalted Prophet Owyn ARTICLE I - AZDRAZI HARBORING The Horde in recent times has been exposed for harboring Azdrazi and known associates of Iblees. Great evidence has mounted against the Rex for not only allowing the Azdrazi to settle Ireheart land and for a full Azdrazi academy to thrive, but also to be a very close friend to the worshippers of Iblees and to Azdromoth himself. ARTICLE II - AGGRESSION ON DWARVES The Rex amongst other members of the dishonorable Horde have repeatedly made aggressions against the Grand Kingdom of Urguan and its people. The First insult is the threatening of Grand King Bakir Irehearts life and then the demanding of tribute from Grand Kingdom. The second slight was the harboring of Azdrazi that attacked the Grand King in the Haeseni tavern. And finally the most dishonorable of all, the capturing and killing of dwarves within the city of Krugmar. ARTICLE III - DENIAL OF PEACE After the repeated aggression and slights against the Grand Kingdom of Urguan, reasonable terms for peace were proposed twice to the people of Krugmar, and twice they were rejected. Refusing to regain their honor and do right to those they have wronged. A summit held by the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska was held to mediate peace. Yet, the Horde did not show. A singular Goblin representative was sent, a mockery of good faith to instill peace. It is evident The Horde does not wish for peace. Wargoal: Conquest of Tile 90 Attackers: The Grand Kingdom of Urguan The Kingdom of Haense Defenders: The Horde (Haelun’or) Date: Saturday, July 30th at 4pm EST [This is taking into account the current ongoing War] Warpath: Grand King of Urguan, Bane of the Orcs, Bane of Philip III IV JOVEO MAAN, His Royal Majesty KARL III by the Grace of Godan, King of Hanseti and Ruska, Grand Hetman of the Army, Prince of Bihar, Dules, Lahy, Muldav, Solvesborg, Slesvik and Ulgaard, Duke of Carnatia and Vanaheim, Margrave of Korstadt, Rothswald and Vasiland, Count of Alban, Alimar, Baranya, Graiswald, Karikhov, Karovia, Kaunas, Kavat, Kovachgrad, Kvasz, Markev, Nenzing, Torun, and Toruv, Viscount of Varna, Baron of Esenstadt, Kraken’s Watch, Kralta, Krepost, Lorentz, Rytsburg, Thurant, Venzia and Astfield, Lord of the Westfolk, Fidei Defensor, Protector of the Highlanders, etcetera.

Watch me fail at using a trebuchet lol