((just gonna drop out cause I'm not really paying much head to this game honestly. Have fun ya'll.))
-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
Avila Bedanburg
“We told you Hera weren’t to be trusted.” A lanky boy with a dirty face and ragged clothes grumbled as he sat cross-legged on the floor before Avila Bedanburg. “She was a bad un’, no doubt about it. But you still wanted ta play nice! Now look at that mess! That ol’ priest is gone and Mankar-” The boy paused to spit on the floor. “-Mankar nearly got himself a bride!”
The Beggar Queen, seated on her cushioned dais in her manse, wrinkled her nose at the boy. “No spitting inside Erich, you’ve been raised better than that!” She scolded, earning an irritated grunt from the filthy boy. Drumming her fingers on her seat she couldn’t help but admit that Erich was right. She had been too willing to overlook Hera’s past actions and behaviour. She couldn’t afford to make such a mistake again. “You’re right Erich.” She sighed unhappily. “It is my fault. I was too careless.”
Erich blushed and mumbled under his breath. “It’s okay Auntie. Everyone screws up now and then.” He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “Anyways… Do ya want to know anything else?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes… Are you keeping an eye on those Harbour Schwipps?” She remembered those boys from when they were little. Even when scampering around in their youth, many of them had been bad apples, willing to fight the other children. Now they had just grown bigger, stronger and meaner. But they still had the same minds as when they were six. If someone had something they wanted, they would take it, regardless of what it took.
“Yeah…” The boy shifted around uncomfortably. “They’re gettin’ nastier and richer. They’re takin’ tolls from anyone who lives near them. Pay or starve. Nasty bastards.”
“Language!” She snapped making the boy flinch. Settling back down into her chair she sighed. “But I suppose you’re right. Something needs to be done… Thank you Erich, you can go now.” The boy gave Avila a small smile before he stood up and scampered out of the room leaving the Beggar Queen alone. Looking off into the distance Avila felt old. There was so much to do, so little time.
****************
Avila Bedanburg shuffled into the Council Chambers and sat down, a servant quickly telling her of what was going on. After a while she nodded. “I agree that Hera needs to be stripped of her rank and imprisoned. We also need to do something about these ‘Harbour Schwipps’. They are getting bolder and hurting the people of our city. We need to look after them.”
Eli Fara nodded, tightening the silk sash across his chest plate.
"With assent from the majority of the council, and in light of this damning evidence, Hera Loiranta is hereby stripped of her Princely status. Let candidates come forward and state their case for the open seat among the council.
"The Council also recognizes the motion put forward regarding the Harbour Schwipps. A clear strategy is needed in dealing with these brigands. Let tactics be heard."
"With assent from the majority of the council, and in light of this damning evidence, Hera Loiranta is hereby stripped of her Princely status. Let candidates come forward and state their case for the open seat among the council.
"The Council also recognizes the motion put forward regarding the Harbour Schwipps. A clear strategy is needed in dealing with these brigands. Let tactics be heard."
Kafka sat in his study in his Palace. He had many meetings that day and was almost done. His last meeting would be with a sellsword named Mira Valturis, who he had heard was a formidable Captain. She had recently fought with Kafka’s friend Bloodcloak in his recent battle with Mankar’s forces. Captain Valturis had apparently did very well in the battle, and Kafka wished to see where she stood on the issues plaguing the city. With the revelations about Hera he had to be very cautious who he trusted.
With that one of his Pages entered, “My Lord, Captain Valturis of the Tattered Banners.” Kafka gestured for the Page to show her in.
The sellsword was shorter than he’d imagined her to be, and decidedly less rough-looking. She wore her armor with the sort of elegance more befitting a knight than a common mercenary, even if she was their leader. Still, she seemed unfamiliar with the type of luxury befitting a Prince of Wuldbreach - when she entered his study, she stopped in the doorway and looked around the room with obvious awe, as much as she tried to hide it. When her roaming eyes settled on him, however, they narrowed considerably, and her face fell into an appearance of cold stoicism, devoid of any emotion. When she spoke, it was with the air of one who would much rather be anywhere else, but was resigned to the matter at hand.
“My Lord Eleisburg. It is an honor. On what business have you called me here today?”
With a pleasant smile on his face, Kafka replied, “I thank you for accepting my invitation here today. I am sure you would not have rather left your men, so I waited until I was sure that it would not harm your company to leave them at this time. As a Prince, I must make decisions that affect the entire city, and I wish to be as informed as possible when I make these decisions. Just as important though, I like to know those who carry out the declarations of the Council. You have served the Council extremely well in the recent battle, and I am sure the Council could have further use of your talents. As such, I wished to know more about you before I can vote in good conscience to assign you any more Council duties.”
The sellsword captain’s eyebrows arched, and the grim line of her mouth tilted into something resembling a smile.
“Is that so? I must say, I’m unused to my character being enquired about by high nobility. Oddly enough, all my past clients have cared about is my ability with a blade and with commanding men … and of course, loyalty to a contract. I see that you have different priorities, however.” She moved towards the chair on the other side of the desk, facing him, and gestured to it with a gauntlet-clad hand. “May I sit?”
“Of course. I apologize for not offering earlier, but it has been a long boring day, and sometimes pleasantries slip my mind at this hour,” he kept his pleasant smile the entire time.
“I imagine the life of a Prince must be a rather dull experience, yes. Anyway, what exactly do you wish to know about me?”
“Being a Prince can be dull but it is also very important. I have a great chance to serve the city that has given so much to me and continue in the footsteps of my ancestors. Alas, we are here to talk about you, and not to listen to me whine about bureaucratic procedures and stately visits. I could ask you to tell me about yourself, what you are, where you have been, but I know all that, and I will not waste your time by asking such needless questions. I want to know who you are. Let me start with recent events. What did you think when you heard the allegations that a Princess of the Council was quite literally sleeping with the enemy? I am sure that even though you are a sellsword, the fact that one of your employers was actively undermining you would elicit some emotional reaction.”
Mira, now seated, paused a few moments before speaking. “Yes, it would. I will not lie and say that betrayal and sabotage are not common in the world of a mercenary - after all, men who fight for gold will not hesitate to betray for it. However, I am speaking truthfully when I say that I have always disliked that side of my profession. Think of me as a subscriber to the concept of “Honor among thieves” … not that mercenaries are thieves, of course. But when one accepts a contract, one should not betray it. This matter of the Princess, though, is far more despicable. She betrayed not only her fellow councilmembers, but also her nation and her people to a known enemy. And not for gold, or for survival, but for love.” The sellsword nearly spat out the last word, showing obvious disdain for it. “So yes, I have quite a negative opinion about that sort of behavior.”
Kafka’s smile flickered to something more genene when he heard Mira’s comments about Hera. “That is good to hear. Not just do you find such an act as Hera’s despicable, you also believe in honor, something that helps me decide that you would most likely be a good choice for further tasks for the Council. As long as the Council would hold up its end of the bargain, it seems like you would hold up yours.”
“I have more honor compared to other sellswords, I suppose, but only off the battlefield, in the realm of contracts and negotiations and payment. But on the battlefield … that is a different world. When a wrong move could mean your death, where hesitation earns you a blade to the heart or a missing limb, one can’t afford to possess ideals. War is no place for honor, or glory - only death, and survival by any means necessary. I must inform you that in that world, I am as savage and brutal as the rest of them.”
“I agree with your statements. At its most basic element, war is simply the art of killing before you are killed. I am glad you do not handicap yourself in the art of war. It would make you a less effective sellsword. Let the Swornswords of great houses follow codes of conduct. For what the Council would need of you, I think we would need you to be ruthless in combat,” with that Kafka sat back a little bit, “now, with your permission I would like to ask a bit more of a personal question, which would include information that you might not want to share. I would understand that, and this is more for my own personal musings. Do I have your permission to ask?”
Mira Valturis arched eyebrows again, but this time she did not smile. “What would you like to know?”
“As you likely have heard by now, the Council has removed Hera from our ranks. This has left an open spot. The question I have is if you harbor any ambition for the open seat, and what you would plan to do if you got it.”
The room was silent for several moments. At length, she spoke.
“I did not think that I would ever be accepted as even a remotely potential candidate for such a position. I can honestly say that the thought of becoming a member of the Council, and what I would do with such status and power, has never crossed my mind. I possess not a drop of noble blood, nor a family name of great renown. My father was a blacksmith in the Steel District, my mother a maid … the highest rank I’ve ever obtained is the leader of a sellsword company. May I ask what qualifies me for such a position?”
“Any noble is qualified, and your company is well known enough and you have enough money to be considered a noble of this city.”
“Even so … surely there are those more suited to such a position?”
“Most likely. I am asking you know to see how you stand on the issues of the Council. See if you would be someone I could serve along side.”
“I see. Well, the country is currently in a state of crisis, so I would focus on addressing it - although, I am not an expert on anything that is not military. Admittedly, the problems Wuldbreach faces are less severe now that Mankar’s army has been dealt a devastating blow and his lover, the Princess, has been stripped of her powers. However, Mankar himself is still at large. He would need to be brought to justice, and the pirates that are currently plaguing us need to be shattered with a strong fleet with competent leadership as well. Finally, the unrest in the city itself must be quashed swiftly and with extreme prejudice, with the greatest possible force. Wuldbreach has burned for far too long.” Mira seemed to have recovered from the shock of the proposal, and the calm woman with tightly-controlled emotions had returned. “Of all these problems, the first and the last are the most pressing. They are what I would focus on, if I were fill the seat on the Council.”
“Most interesting positions. As one of the more prominent nobles in the city, I have considered you, among others, a possible candidate for the open council seat. If you want it I suggest you attend and make your case at the next Council meeting.”
“I am not sure I would fit well within your world, my lord. I am not used to the life of nobility, the perfumed words and palace intrigues that your kind are so enamored with, nor the dull work you are so used to. I am afraid I would be a fish out of water, so to speak. However, if what you need is a Council member more experienced in the art of war than of bureaucracy, I would consider it.” She paused, as if a thought had just struck my mind. “But what would become of my men? If I were to ascend to such a position, surely the Tattered Banners would have to be disbanded?”
“I do not know, nor do I know who I would full on support when the Council votes. Although Hera was a soldier and it would fit to replace her with one. In the end, it is your decision. In regards to your company I suggest you ask the Seneschal about that. He would know the historical precedents involved.”
“Very well. I will ask the Seneschal, and then decide whether or not I would be interested in such a position. I trust that we have no further matters to discuss?”
“Captain Valturis, I would also like to extend an invitation to a banquet I am holding. While some of the guests will be a bit stuffy, many are nobles that I served with during the Anarchy in the Iron District. They are good fighters, and have many war stories that I am sure we will all enjoy sharing. The banquet will also have decent food. I do refrain from overspending, and from depleting the city’s food reserves, but it will still be good food. What do you say?”
“I would be honored, Lord Eleisburg. I still have time in the city before I must return to my men … and if I decide to pursue what we discussed earlier, I might find myself with much more time indeed. I will take you up on your offer.”
“I thank you for accepting. My Page shall show you out and I will see you soon at the Banquet.”
With that one of his Pages entered, “My Lord, Captain Valturis of the Tattered Banners.” Kafka gestured for the Page to show her in.
The sellsword was shorter than he’d imagined her to be, and decidedly less rough-looking. She wore her armor with the sort of elegance more befitting a knight than a common mercenary, even if she was their leader. Still, she seemed unfamiliar with the type of luxury befitting a Prince of Wuldbreach - when she entered his study, she stopped in the doorway and looked around the room with obvious awe, as much as she tried to hide it. When her roaming eyes settled on him, however, they narrowed considerably, and her face fell into an appearance of cold stoicism, devoid of any emotion. When she spoke, it was with the air of one who would much rather be anywhere else, but was resigned to the matter at hand.
“My Lord Eleisburg. It is an honor. On what business have you called me here today?”
With a pleasant smile on his face, Kafka replied, “I thank you for accepting my invitation here today. I am sure you would not have rather left your men, so I waited until I was sure that it would not harm your company to leave them at this time. As a Prince, I must make decisions that affect the entire city, and I wish to be as informed as possible when I make these decisions. Just as important though, I like to know those who carry out the declarations of the Council. You have served the Council extremely well in the recent battle, and I am sure the Council could have further use of your talents. As such, I wished to know more about you before I can vote in good conscience to assign you any more Council duties.”
The sellsword captain’s eyebrows arched, and the grim line of her mouth tilted into something resembling a smile.
“Is that so? I must say, I’m unused to my character being enquired about by high nobility. Oddly enough, all my past clients have cared about is my ability with a blade and with commanding men … and of course, loyalty to a contract. I see that you have different priorities, however.” She moved towards the chair on the other side of the desk, facing him, and gestured to it with a gauntlet-clad hand. “May I sit?”
“Of course. I apologize for not offering earlier, but it has been a long boring day, and sometimes pleasantries slip my mind at this hour,” he kept his pleasant smile the entire time.
“I imagine the life of a Prince must be a rather dull experience, yes. Anyway, what exactly do you wish to know about me?”
“Being a Prince can be dull but it is also very important. I have a great chance to serve the city that has given so much to me and continue in the footsteps of my ancestors. Alas, we are here to talk about you, and not to listen to me whine about bureaucratic procedures and stately visits. I could ask you to tell me about yourself, what you are, where you have been, but I know all that, and I will not waste your time by asking such needless questions. I want to know who you are. Let me start with recent events. What did you think when you heard the allegations that a Princess of the Council was quite literally sleeping with the enemy? I am sure that even though you are a sellsword, the fact that one of your employers was actively undermining you would elicit some emotional reaction.”
Mira, now seated, paused a few moments before speaking. “Yes, it would. I will not lie and say that betrayal and sabotage are not common in the world of a mercenary - after all, men who fight for gold will not hesitate to betray for it. However, I am speaking truthfully when I say that I have always disliked that side of my profession. Think of me as a subscriber to the concept of “Honor among thieves” … not that mercenaries are thieves, of course. But when one accepts a contract, one should not betray it. This matter of the Princess, though, is far more despicable. She betrayed not only her fellow councilmembers, but also her nation and her people to a known enemy. And not for gold, or for survival, but for love.” The sellsword nearly spat out the last word, showing obvious disdain for it. “So yes, I have quite a negative opinion about that sort of behavior.”
Kafka’s smile flickered to something more genene when he heard Mira’s comments about Hera. “That is good to hear. Not just do you find such an act as Hera’s despicable, you also believe in honor, something that helps me decide that you would most likely be a good choice for further tasks for the Council. As long as the Council would hold up its end of the bargain, it seems like you would hold up yours.”
“I have more honor compared to other sellswords, I suppose, but only off the battlefield, in the realm of contracts and negotiations and payment. But on the battlefield … that is a different world. When a wrong move could mean your death, where hesitation earns you a blade to the heart or a missing limb, one can’t afford to possess ideals. War is no place for honor, or glory - only death, and survival by any means necessary. I must inform you that in that world, I am as savage and brutal as the rest of them.”
“I agree with your statements. At its most basic element, war is simply the art of killing before you are killed. I am glad you do not handicap yourself in the art of war. It would make you a less effective sellsword. Let the Swornswords of great houses follow codes of conduct. For what the Council would need of you, I think we would need you to be ruthless in combat,” with that Kafka sat back a little bit, “now, with your permission I would like to ask a bit more of a personal question, which would include information that you might not want to share. I would understand that, and this is more for my own personal musings. Do I have your permission to ask?”
Mira Valturis arched eyebrows again, but this time she did not smile. “What would you like to know?”
“As you likely have heard by now, the Council has removed Hera from our ranks. This has left an open spot. The question I have is if you harbor any ambition for the open seat, and what you would plan to do if you got it.”
The room was silent for several moments. At length, she spoke.
“I did not think that I would ever be accepted as even a remotely potential candidate for such a position. I can honestly say that the thought of becoming a member of the Council, and what I would do with such status and power, has never crossed my mind. I possess not a drop of noble blood, nor a family name of great renown. My father was a blacksmith in the Steel District, my mother a maid … the highest rank I’ve ever obtained is the leader of a sellsword company. May I ask what qualifies me for such a position?”
“Any noble is qualified, and your company is well known enough and you have enough money to be considered a noble of this city.”
“Even so … surely there are those more suited to such a position?”
“Most likely. I am asking you know to see how you stand on the issues of the Council. See if you would be someone I could serve along side.”
“I see. Well, the country is currently in a state of crisis, so I would focus on addressing it - although, I am not an expert on anything that is not military. Admittedly, the problems Wuldbreach faces are less severe now that Mankar’s army has been dealt a devastating blow and his lover, the Princess, has been stripped of her powers. However, Mankar himself is still at large. He would need to be brought to justice, and the pirates that are currently plaguing us need to be shattered with a strong fleet with competent leadership as well. Finally, the unrest in the city itself must be quashed swiftly and with extreme prejudice, with the greatest possible force. Wuldbreach has burned for far too long.” Mira seemed to have recovered from the shock of the proposal, and the calm woman with tightly-controlled emotions had returned. “Of all these problems, the first and the last are the most pressing. They are what I would focus on, if I were fill the seat on the Council.”
“Most interesting positions. As one of the more prominent nobles in the city, I have considered you, among others, a possible candidate for the open council seat. If you want it I suggest you attend and make your case at the next Council meeting.”
“I am not sure I would fit well within your world, my lord. I am not used to the life of nobility, the perfumed words and palace intrigues that your kind are so enamored with, nor the dull work you are so used to. I am afraid I would be a fish out of water, so to speak. However, if what you need is a Council member more experienced in the art of war than of bureaucracy, I would consider it.” She paused, as if a thought had just struck my mind. “But what would become of my men? If I were to ascend to such a position, surely the Tattered Banners would have to be disbanded?”
“I do not know, nor do I know who I would full on support when the Council votes. Although Hera was a soldier and it would fit to replace her with one. In the end, it is your decision. In regards to your company I suggest you ask the Seneschal about that. He would know the historical precedents involved.”
“Very well. I will ask the Seneschal, and then decide whether or not I would be interested in such a position. I trust that we have no further matters to discuss?”
“Captain Valturis, I would also like to extend an invitation to a banquet I am holding. While some of the guests will be a bit stuffy, many are nobles that I served with during the Anarchy in the Iron District. They are good fighters, and have many war stories that I am sure we will all enjoy sharing. The banquet will also have decent food. I do refrain from overspending, and from depleting the city’s food reserves, but it will still be good food. What do you say?”
“I would be honored, Lord Eleisburg. I still have time in the city before I must return to my men … and if I decide to pursue what we discussed earlier, I might find myself with much more time indeed. I will take you up on your offer.”
“I thank you for accepting. My Page shall show you out and I will see you soon at the Banquet.”
Gregor stood before the council of princes, his blood red cloak hanging from his shoulders and his sword resting on his hip. "Princes and Princesses, I would put my name forward to fill the open seat on the council. You have seen evidence of my martial skill, and would it not be better for a prince to serve as the city's captain-general rather than a simple sellsword captain? More than that, I have friends in the court of Duke Francis of Coburg in Gothra, no doubt that would be worth something should we deal with the empire in the future." He bowed to the council. "Should you have any questions I will be happy to answer."
Princess Avila Bedanburg squinted at the sell-sword captain. "You do have an impressive history Lord Bloodcloak, and your connections could indeed be useful. I would ask you this though... If you are chosen to sit on the Council will you and your 'Red Bastards' continue to request payment to hunt down Mankar? It is the duty of the Princes of Wuldbreach to protect the people and the city against creatures like the fallen Prince Stilvist. Would you be willing to let your men be put to use as an arm of the Council? Within reason of course."
"Princess, I served as captain-general of the city's forces and my men fought against Mankar's just recently without any payment from the Council. I would have hoped that it was clear that I understand the situation that the city finds itself in. To be direct, no, relating to the matter of Mankar at least, I would not request payment for my company, the safety of the city's people and the Wuldbreach are too important to barter over." He bowed his head to the princess.
Avila smiles. "Sorry if I wasn't clear deary. I should've asked if you believe your men will accept their new situation. Mercenaries, no matter how noble, may not be too pleased with giving up their life of freedom for something much more mundane." She rubs her hands together. "But if you think they can, you will have my support in joining this council."
Krabb was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them.
OK, maybe he was. But he was a clever sort of stupid. Kind of like a hungry rat, or a slightly smarter sea sponge. But he knew that once in awhile one had to kiss some ass. In this case, this was the ass of an extremely old lady.
The Harbour Schwipps brought fifty pounds of bread and cheese, protected by some fifty thugs, to one of the known refuges of the Begger Queen. This "good" intention had some rather unseemly issues, mainly the brutal beating and robbing of anyone seen in the street at the same time of the cart. The good news is that the bread made it there in one piece. All of which was with a message.
"Krabb dun wan war. Krabb want peace. Dun make Krabb angry, dun make Queen angry. All good."
This was delivered by a rather illiterate boy, the Harbour Schwipps meant to sent a note, that being the "noble" thing to do, except that none of them could read or write. They hoped that the bribe (for no better word) would buy the Schwipps some time or sympathy or ... something.
-------
Krabb sends the Begger Queen 50 lbs of bread and cheese as a tithe to not bring him up to the council anymore.
OK, maybe he was. But he was a clever sort of stupid. Kind of like a hungry rat, or a slightly smarter sea sponge. But he knew that once in awhile one had to kiss some ass. In this case, this was the ass of an extremely old lady.
The Harbour Schwipps brought fifty pounds of bread and cheese, protected by some fifty thugs, to one of the known refuges of the Begger Queen. This "good" intention had some rather unseemly issues, mainly the brutal beating and robbing of anyone seen in the street at the same time of the cart. The good news is that the bread made it there in one piece. All of which was with a message.
"Krabb dun wan war. Krabb want peace. Dun make Krabb angry, dun make Queen angry. All good."
This was delivered by a rather illiterate boy, the Harbour Schwipps meant to sent a note, that being the "noble" thing to do, except that none of them could read or write. They hoped that the bribe (for no better word) would buy the Schwipps some time or sympathy or ... something.
-------
Krabb sends the Begger Queen 50 lbs of bread and cheese as a tithe to not bring him up to the council anymore.
A man is brought forward to Krabb later that evening, having been wandering around the harbour asking everyone if they had seen 'a crab'. The man was gigantic, easily nine feet tall, but looked as harmless as they come with the wide smile on his face and the blank eyes. The man obviously didn't have much going on upstairs. After standing for a few minutes in Krabb in silence, the same stupid grin on his face, the man blinked and seemed to remember to do something more than just breath.
"Err, Auntie Avila sent me." He said slowly, drawing out each word carefully as if he was afraid that they'd twist around if he spoke to fast. "She says that, err..." He picked his nose and stopped talking for another few minutes. After getting prodded in the guts he blinked and started talking again. "Auntie says that she, umm, she happy to take food from the crab. She says she wants food every week." He frowned as he concentrated. "She says that if crab play bad, she... umm... bad stuff happens." He smiled suddenly, clapping his hands together and making a sound that wasn't too dissimilar from a thunderclap. "She says that good crab gets looked after! Good crab play nice, Auntie look after crab! She says that she is sure crab is nice crab, and that crab is happy to help Auntie." He beamed widely before turning around and lumbering away. It took half a dozen men to coral him back out into the street, where the giant of a man ambled off into the distance happily.
***********
Avila Bedanburg wants weekly payments of food from the Harbour Schwipps for the foreseeable future in return for silence on teh council. She also proposes that the Schwipps work with her for continued protection, or she will take action.
The temperature of the Council Hall dropped perceivably as the mouth of the girl hung open and the voice of the cold spirit was heard...
Mazella
Supreme Priestess of the Wuld Mother
"Regarding the ascension of Captain Gregor Trask to the Council of Princes, I, and many among my order, are in favour of such a motion. Trask has served this council well, and unlike what is typical among sellswords, has sought no paymet for his deeds. Unlike mortals, I do not dream, however, through sacrifice and ritual I may peer into the dream state of Mother. The dreams of Mother are disturbing, and beyond the threat of Mankar, a greater danger lays in wait. I sense a soldier upon this council will be sorely needed.
"Yet Captain Trask has failed to pay appropriate homage to the Wuld Mother, the Goddess of peace. Had appropriate sacrifice been made perhaps this war would be over and attention could be paid to the harvest, alas we starve and war holds our minds oppressed. Should the Council see wisdom in naming Gregor Trask a prince, I hope the voice of war will be cast from his lips, replaced by the kiss of peace."
Olaf Giantsbane
Lord-Forsworn of Oranth
"I had the privilege of fighting at General Trask's side at the Battle of Cryus Hill, and witnessed his victory that brought the rebel Wollad to our custody. IT was Trask's cautionary strategy that brought us victory and kept us from falling into another of Mankar's infamous traps. A reckless commander may have led our forces into the pincers of the bulk of the rebel army and their navy, instead we split their forces and baited them to fight on our terms. Trask may lead game to Mother's alter, but make no mistake, Oranth is with him.
"To General Trask, I say this; sacrifice a dozen oxen in the name of the Valorous God, you've seen first hand the blessings he may bestow, and your ascension and future victories will be assured. Furthermore, it is my hope, that you will voice the will of Oranth under your princely crown, as it is a voice that will be needed since the Hera bitch forsook all valour and her God and turned traitor."
Mazella
Supreme Priestess of the Wuld Mother
"Regarding the ascension of Captain Gregor Trask to the Council of Princes, I, and many among my order, are in favour of such a motion. Trask has served this council well, and unlike what is typical among sellswords, has sought no paymet for his deeds. Unlike mortals, I do not dream, however, through sacrifice and ritual I may peer into the dream state of Mother. The dreams of Mother are disturbing, and beyond the threat of Mankar, a greater danger lays in wait. I sense a soldier upon this council will be sorely needed.
"Yet Captain Trask has failed to pay appropriate homage to the Wuld Mother, the Goddess of peace. Had appropriate sacrifice been made perhaps this war would be over and attention could be paid to the harvest, alas we starve and war holds our minds oppressed. Should the Council see wisdom in naming Gregor Trask a prince, I hope the voice of war will be cast from his lips, replaced by the kiss of peace."
Olaf Giantsbane
Lord-Forsworn of Oranth
"To General Trask, I say this; sacrifice a dozen oxen in the name of the Valorous God, you've seen first hand the blessings he may bestow, and your ascension and future victories will be assured. Furthermore, it is my hope, that you will voice the will of Oranth under your princely crown, as it is a voice that will be needed since the Hera bitch forsook all valour and her God and turned traitor."
Last edited:
A man enters the Council Hall, accompanied by a small entourage of servants, squires and swornswords. Clad in a fine cloak and jeweled cap, the large man of dark eyes and serious features, made all the more severe with his long black hair and mustache, stands before the council, heralded by Eli Fara as Ser Conrad Berkhart.
Berkhart is a man whose reputation is well known within Wuldbreach. Though he lived in the city long ago, Berkhart has been abroad since the time of the Arrogant King Haroldi. He distinguished himself as a captain of Haroldi's army and led a successful campaign against the Goths, his countrymen. For largely unknown reasons, assumed to be a difference of opinion in tactics, Berkhart left Haroldi's army just before the war turned against the former king and journeyed back to the Shattered Isles, where he has amassed a great fortune among the free cities, holding property in nearly every one.
Recently, Conrad Berkhart left the Isles and pursued a land claim in his native Gothra, though it seems that rivals have pushed him out of the empire. Bowing low as he removes his cap and holds it to his breast, the man strains his lips into a smile.
Ser Conrad Berkhart
Noble
"Hail Princes of Wuldbreach, distinguished nobles. The Gods are with you. Cold and bitter is a world that treats the just and righteous as criminals. Tyrannical is the swordarm that seeks to sever the hand of the true. Amnesty I ask of you. Amnesty against the lies of men that surely ride my coattails. Across this world I travelled, and many places I could go, but it is here I hold my heart. Too long it's been since I seen her, the jewel of the Shattered Isles, and yet even in the state men of low means have brought her, no other place would I rather be.
"The death of a cousin brought me next in line of the Duchy of Dussle within the Gothra Empire, but jealous rivals, harbouring resentment for my service to Wuldbreach during Harlodi's War sought to undo my claim, and end my very life. I persevered over their assassins and escaped. Now to this Council's embrace I have come, and whose service I offer. Grant me amnesty from the Goth Empire, and consider me at your service."
Berkhart is a man whose reputation is well known within Wuldbreach. Though he lived in the city long ago, Berkhart has been abroad since the time of the Arrogant King Haroldi. He distinguished himself as a captain of Haroldi's army and led a successful campaign against the Goths, his countrymen. For largely unknown reasons, assumed to be a difference of opinion in tactics, Berkhart left Haroldi's army just before the war turned against the former king and journeyed back to the Shattered Isles, where he has amassed a great fortune among the free cities, holding property in nearly every one.
Recently, Conrad Berkhart left the Isles and pursued a land claim in his native Gothra, though it seems that rivals have pushed him out of the empire. Bowing low as he removes his cap and holds it to his breast, the man strains his lips into a smile.
Ser Conrad Berkhart
Noble
"Hail Princes of Wuldbreach, distinguished nobles. The Gods are with you. Cold and bitter is a world that treats the just and righteous as criminals. Tyrannical is the swordarm that seeks to sever the hand of the true. Amnesty I ask of you. Amnesty against the lies of men that surely ride my coattails. Across this world I travelled, and many places I could go, but it is here I hold my heart. Too long it's been since I seen her, the jewel of the Shattered Isles, and yet even in the state men of low means have brought her, no other place would I rather be.
"The death of a cousin brought me next in line of the Duchy of Dussle within the Gothra Empire, but jealous rivals, harbouring resentment for my service to Wuldbreach during Harlodi's War sought to undo my claim, and end my very life. I persevered over their assassins and escaped. Now to this Council's embrace I have come, and whose service I offer. Grant me amnesty from the Goth Empire, and consider me at your service."
"Ser Berkhart, we are honored by the presence of a hero of Wuldbreach such as yourself. I have to ask though, as giving you amnesty may anger the Empire, I must ask how you could serve the Council. Please do not take this as an insult, it is just that the city is in troubled times these days, and we can ill afford to anger any more Empires in these times without imperative reason."A man enters the Council Hall, accompanied by a small entourage of servants, squires and swornswords. Clad in a fine cloak and jeweled cap, the large man of dark eyes and serious features, made all the more severe with his long black hair and mustache, stands before the council, heralded by Eli Fara as Ser Conrad Berkhart.
Berkhart is a man whose reputation is well known within Wuldbreach. Though he lived in the city long ago, Berkhart has been abroad since the time of the Arrogant King Haroldi. He distinguished himself as a captain of Haroldi's army and led a successful campaign against the Goths, his countrymen. For largely unknown reasons, assumed to be a difference of opinion in tactics, Berkhart left Haroldi's army just before the war turned against the former king and journeyed back to the Shattered Isles, where he has amassed a great fortune among the free cities, holding property in nearly every one.
Recently, Conrad Berkhart left the Isles and pursued a land claim in his native Gothra, though it seems that rivals have pushed him out of the empire. Bowing low as he removes his cap and holds it to his breast, the man strains his lips into a smile.
Ser Conrad Berkhart
Noble
"Hail Princes of Wuldbreach, distinguished nobles. The Gods are with you. Cold and bitter is a world that treats the just and righteous as criminals. Tyrannical is the swordarm that seeks to sever the hand of the true. Amnesty I ask of you. Amnesty against the lies of men that surely ride my coattails. Across this world I travelled, and many places I could go, but it is here I hold my heart. Too long it's been since I seen her, the jewel of the Shattered Isles, and yet even in the state men of low means have brought her, no other place would I rather be.
"The death of a cousin brought me next in line of the Duchy of Dussle within the Gothra Empire, but jealous rivals, harbouring resentment for my service to Wuldbreach during Harlodi's War sought to undo my claim, and end my very life. I persevered over their assassins and escaped. Now to this Council's embrace I have come, and whose service I offer. Grant me amnesty from the Goth Empire, and consider me at your service."
Conrad Berkhart gives a stiff bow to Prince Eliesburg.
"A fair question, noble prince. I have significant holdings in Heartstone, Urnox and Windgultch, and my word carries weight within the courts the rulers of these cities. Grant me protection, and I shall use my influence to forge a trade network between these cities, so that prosperity may once again rule this city. Granted such trade can only begin once the atmosphere within these walls calms, but once it does so, I promise to do my part to see the coffers replenished.
"As for Gothra, you needn't fear any immediate reprisal from them. The court of the emperor is in turmoil, though his bravi work to quell all word of dissent. The Imperial Marshal usurped control of the army early this year, and burned the Emperor's holdings in Wisgot. His chancellor, entrusted to end the rebellion, turned traitor and attempted to seize the Imperial palace. Though this rebellion was crushed, and the Chancellor dead, all of Gothra is in turmoil and the Emperor and his family in hiding. Chaos reigns in all corners of the world.
"Know this, the bellows of empires may be loud to the ears, but it is this council that holds great power they all envy, the Godswell, and with it, the world is yours."
"Ser Berkhart is an influential man who has served this city before, and since suffered unjustly. We would be quite remiss to deny him amnesty out of fear from a distant and divided empire that has never held great love for us. It would be a move of sheer cowardice and inhospitality to turn Ser Berkhart away.
On the matter of the Prince to replace the traitor Hera, I believe Ser Trask is a suitable candidate, with a history of serving the city well, and possessing the proper skills and disposition to join our illustrious ranks."
On the matter of the Prince to replace the traitor Hera, I believe Ser Trask is a suitable candidate, with a history of serving the city well, and possessing the proper skills and disposition to join our illustrious ranks."
"I agree with you on both points. I believe Ser Berkhart should be granted amnesty, and I have no objections to Trask."
Avila Bedanburg nods finally, after hearing Berkhart's words. "It sounds reasonable enough. I support granting amnesty to this man."
Crypto Valeesan
Archon of Issiris
"Lords of Wuldbreach, harvest is upon us, and a dire one it shall be. War has sullied the fields and the power of Chaos grips all Tha'Wuld. The time is now to cast thoughts to the upcoming Godsmoot. We need to begin gathering sacrifices in preparation for the holy event. The greater Breach Isle is torn apart by war, making the gathering of suitable sacrifices folly. We will need to look abroad in order to attain a blessing from the Gods this Dark Season.
"The goat herds of Breach Isle have been scattered and mostly slaughtered by rebels throughout the year. The Dwarves of Heartstone are well known for populous herds of fat goats which would please Issiris, should the Princes, in their wisdom, deem divinations from Issiris this Godsmoot. It is clear why a blessing from Issiris should be pursued. Our treasury is depleted, our trade pact with Great Canton has dissolved and we find ourselves with no friends abroad. A blessing from Issiris will surely fatten the coffers and increase the wealth of the nobility as well as aid us in forging alliances."
Olaf Giantsbane
Lord-Forsworn of Oranth
"The Gods' realms are under assault by the forces of Chaos, and only Oranth, the god of war and valour, has the power to push back the tide. As it is in their realms, so it is in ours. Bloodshed wars with Great Canton, emboldened by the power of Chaos. Should this hostility go unchecked, we will have greater conflict with the Chaos worshipers of that fallen city. Princes of Wuldbreach, sacrifice to Oranth and guarantee our victory over Mankar and solidify our alliance to Great Canton with the power to aid them in battle.
"Honourable raids, blessed by Oranth, will replenish the treasury, and bring order back to Tha'Wuld and beyond. The thanes of Windgultch have numerous herds of oxen that will please Oranth."
Baro Hophs
Archmage of Hyrda
"How can we give thoughts to the Godsmoot in two seasons time when one of our own is held by the agents of Chaos? We need to prioritize the rescue of Geilli the Kind above all else.
*Sigh*
"But if we must lend credence to this debate now, gathering Drakes in southern Grayspear will appease Hydra. A perilous task, however earning his blessing will restore balance to Tha'Wuld. Hydra is widely respected, and even the most fervent worshipers of the other Gods would respect such a sacrifice."
Mazella
Supreme Priestess of Wuld Mother
"I respect the Archmage's desire to see Geilli returned to us, however now is the time to prepare for the Godsmoot. Storm Season will be too dangerous to scour the Isles for sacrifices. We must dispatch an emissary now."
Eli Fara permits the entry of emissaries of distant lands, representatives of the great empires of Tha'Wuld. A sense of arrogance follows the parties of the ambassadors, perhaps well placed considering the power they represent. From the Issira Empire, a bald man with fierce eyes, wearing black silks adorned in gold, walks proudly before the council. He is heralded by Fara as Caliph Seso Ariza, Grand Vizier of the Issira Empire.
Seso Ariza
Caliph of Ugra, Grand Vizier of the Issira Empire
(300 Sellswords, 3 ships)"Chaos reigns, Princes of Wuldbreach. It cannot be denied. Last year's peace and prosperity has been replaced by strife in the very hearts of men, manifesting in rebellion and chaos in all Tha'Wuld. Left unchecked, and the ambitions of traitors will be the least of our worries. I have been entrusted by the Pharaoh to ensure Issiris is given honours upon the Godswell. The choice is clear. Issiris brought all the Gods together to battle Chaos, and it is only through His grace, that we may hope to once again quell this uprising of the One Eye's minions. The mortal realm and the planes beyond are under threat, it falls on you, honourable princes, to see the Gods' power restored.
"Sacrifice to Issiris this Godsmoot and my Pharaoh is prepared to offer you a boon of 1000 gold rubels, and favourable trade terms that shall ensure prosperity in the year to come. Would you callously disregard such terms of friendship? I should hope not."
Seso Ariza
Caliph of Ugra, Grand Vizier of the Issira Empire
(300 Sellswords, 3 ships)
"Sacrifice to Issiris this Godsmoot and my Pharaoh is prepared to offer you a boon of 1000 gold rubels, and favourable trade terms that shall ensure prosperity in the year to come. Would you callously disregard such terms of friendship? I should hope not."
Last edited:
The old Beggar Queen, Avila Bedanburg, blinked slowly as she considered her words.
"Your suggestion has merit Caliph Ariza, but I would not consider the actions of your Pharaoh that of friendship but instead of desire. If it was friendship he sought to build then he would have aided us quite some time before the Godsmoot, not giving us money and trade when it is nigh upon us." She tilted her head curiously as she sipped at her weak wine. "And although Issiris is indeed the founder of the coalition that cast out the One Eyed God, couldn't it be argued just as succinctly that we would benefit just as much from sacrificing to Oranth, the god who cast out the Great Deciever?"
"Your suggestion has merit Caliph Ariza, but I would not consider the actions of your Pharaoh that of friendship but instead of desire. If it was friendship he sought to build then he would have aided us quite some time before the Godsmoot, not giving us money and trade when it is nigh upon us." She tilted her head curiously as she sipped at her weak wine. "And although Issiris is indeed the founder of the coalition that cast out the One Eyed God, couldn't it be argued just as succinctly that we would benefit just as much from sacrificing to Oranth, the god who cast out the Great Deciever?"