From Past Heights, Against Past Depths - An EU4 Anbennar Kumarkand AAR

[Steckie]

All out assault and undermine their rule are looking like a decent combination of goals.
If you don't hit them hard now, i don't know if you're going to get a better opportunity.

 

[jak7139]

Their magic-resistant helms

I'm assuming these ones have been modified and freed of Alusir's influence?

Even if this is you last good chance to attack the Command, you must be cautious. Drain them slowly and let rebellions and devastation do the work for you.

 

[Sybot]

I'm assuming these ones have been modified and freed of Alusir's influence?

Even if this is you last good chance to attack the Command, you must be cautious. Drain them slowly and let rebellions and devastation do the work for you.

They have been freed of his influence, though they are still used as processing power to keep running the fantasy world he is trapped in.

The voters strongly agreed upon an All-out Assault, with Secure Rahen in second place. These will inform our war strategy and objectives, and Offensive will earn bonus votes at the next idea group vote, as will the option for another vote…

Chapter Twenty: Division in Paradise
1704-1714

Wolf Warcamp, Central Sarilvahan, Shamakhad, 1706

To call it a warcamp was both appropriate and a great underestimation of what lay before them. The Command had taken two and a half centuries transforming the heart of the Ruin Kingdoms into their vision of a perfect city, and their efforts had not been fruitless.

The sprawling residential blocks surrounding the central warcamp, brutal and uniform in their construction, were miniature fortresses and in and of themselves, covered in windows that could be sealed tightly but for gunports. It was only thanks to the speed at which they had advanced that they hadn't had to fight building-by-building as they made their way to the heart of the city.

A bullet pinged off the air two feet away from Yazdan's head, but he had gotten used to it. The wards generated at the corners of his flying carpet platform flared, but were infused with enough magical strength that a bullet wouldn't hut them. A few stragglers still lurked in the outer districts, but not enough to stop their advance.

"There's a blank spot in our scrying!" shouted Andar, his words punctuated by the incessant crack of gunfire and distant explosions.

He was crouched over a bowl of water that retained its mirror sheen even though the platform jostled in the air from the breezes and updrafts endemic to a city, let alone one that was a battleground.

"Where is it?" Yazdan asked. His unit was rapid-reaction, intended to sweep in from above and destroy major targets before flying back to safety. If there was something that couldn't be scryed, then that was something worth destroying.

Andar blinked, his eyes unfocused as he stared into the water, and then the platform began to move under his power.

Yazdan brought his whistle to his lips and blew on it, the mithril-crafted device delivering a piercing keen that would be audible to all the other platforms in the unit.

"Follow us, and align your magic with ours!" he called out. The other platforms would struggle to hear even a shout, so he also translated his words into arm signals that could be understood by fellow warriors of the Zamukaraš.

Under Andar's guidance, the platform shot through the air, a half-dozen others right behind them.

If the outer city was a nightmare warren of fortresses, then the inner city, the warcamp itself, was as though someone had constructed an entire city out of nothing but walls and defensive towers. Enormous overlapping, angled, fortifications piled on top of one another, layers of earth sandwiching the brief gaps where windows and entrances could be seen. Towers rose from the bristling mass, banded by wide eaves that were both decorative and no doubt suited for soldiers to rain down death upon attackers.

With the aid of the other magi on the platform channelling their mana through the great workings of evocation that were woven into it, Yazdan raised his hands and felt the surge of hot and cold pins and needles running all the way through his skin to the very tips of his fingers.

"We're approaching fast, we need to be exact," he said, his jaw clenched.

"There!" Andar said, his arm held rigid as he pointed at a tower that looked like any other, but was conspicuously smaller than those around it.

"Fire!" Yazdan called out, the sensory connection that the unit shared flaring as his orders were shared among them.

Six beams of intense flame, alight with white-hot determination and roaring like the rage of a dragon, lanced out from the platforms and impacted the building.

But there was no effect. The fire and light were swallowed up as though Darkness itself had taken them, and Yazdan's hands went ice cold as familiar feedback gripped his flesh. He had felt it before in battle with the Command, but never on such a scale.

"How much Korashi do they have in there?" he wondered aloud, as he considered how much expense must have been put into a single structure. That only made it more important.

Their flight swung around the cluster of towers, as Yazdan kept his eyes fixed upon it. Movement on the eaves drew his attention, and the gaping maws of cannons unfolded from the walls, pointed directly in their flight path.

"Incoming!" he cried, before blowing hard on his whistle to indicate for them to scatter.

A sharp twist in his stomach nearly saw him lose his lunch, as his platform lurched at a right angle away from its previous heading. The roar of cannon fire followed, and cannonballs filled the air where they would have been if not for the magic of the Zamukaraš. Some of the other of the flight were not so quick to action, and ended up in the firing line. Though none of the cannonballs hit directly, through some means that Yazdan could not divine they still knew exactly when to detonate, showering two platforms in shrapnel.

He didn't even have time to see if any of those on the platforms survived, because the instant they were hit they folded up into themselves like a carpet would normally behave if dropped in the open air. Whatever wards they held blinked out of existence, and if anyone had survived the detonations then they would find their deaths against the sloped walls of the fortress below.

More Korashi. This wasn't something that magic could contend with, so he ordered the unit to pull back. They would mourn the lost later, as the war still raged.

It was an hour of careful observation from a distance, with eyes and without scrying, before someone managed to get cannons into position to bombard the tower conventionally. The sound of whistling shells and crashing impacts was music to his ears, when they were not aimed at him.

"Not enough damage," he said, peering through the smoke that was increasingly rising from the battlefield, so much so that dark clouds were gathering in the sky above Sarilavhan. The building was sturdier than he had imagined, and he wondered if he'd have been able to destroy it even with magic.

The bombardment continued, and the clouds continued to gather, and it was only when a lightning bolt shot from the sky, ignoring the taller towers around it, and shattered the top layer of the mystery tower, that he realised that something else was at work. Arcs of lightning were absorbed into the building, but the attacker struck again and again, each lightning bolt falling from the sky with a crack that echoed in his ears for minutes afterwards, and each time less and less of its power being lost. The city itself seemed to shake around them, in spite of the resilient construction of the thousands of housing blocks.

A terrific explosion detonated in the midst of the level which had held the cannon emplacements, and the top of the tower tipped and fell delivering burning stone and wood into the heart of the warcamp. Standing alone on the shattered roof was a single figure, lean but standing tall among the ruin.

As Yazdan brought his platform in, ignoring the whistle and deflection of shots from the ground below, he came face to face with a man who looked as though he had been starved for months but nonetheless had a thin layer of muscle that was enough animate his emaciated body, and broken shackles around his wrists and ankles. He gave a wide smile to Yazdan and spoke in one of the local languages that he had a passing familiarity with.

"You are a fellow shaman, yes?" the strange figure said, "let us free the others, then rain terror down on those who chain us."

With a cackle, he called down another bolt of lightning, which he caught in his hand and then drove into the floor beneath his feet. It cracked and shattered, and he rode the collapsing floor deeper into the building.

After a few moments, Yazdan nodded at his fellow magi and their platform began to lower into the darkness. He began to wonder, what chains might he himself be wearing?

Excerpts from Light upon the Planes, published in Utur Karqašlu, 2026 AA

The orders were dispatched from Panu Karqašlu. The armies stationed in Rahen, having spent years drilling for this exact conflict, rallied and marched for war. The Command would be struck down with all haste, and Rahen would be freed of their influence. Do to any less would give them a chance to crush Baihon Xinh and wield the entire strength of Haless against Karqašlu.

Through the power of the Ituqattar helms the Akalunakali sent out an enchantment that would make her soldiers fearless and devoted to their duty. Veterans of the war later spoke of hearing mad cackling and the boiling of oceans behind the sweet words and feelings that were transmitted behind the helms, but there was no further evidence of Kar Alušir breaking his golden chains.

A two-pronged assault was decided upon by the Bittu szal Sarnagir, striking both sides of the Marutha Desert to divide the Command's attention before ignoring the heavily fortified Kharunyana River to drive for Sarilavhan. Only then would they loop around through Xianjie and strike at the rear of the Command's forces on the Baihon Xinh front.

No plan survives contact with the enemy, and the Command reacted to the invasion as swiftly as a military dictatorship could be expected to. Reservists were drafted in massive numbers, mercenary bands were drawn from Wuhyun populations, and the full force of each of the Six Commands were mobilized instead of remaining focused on pacifying their regions. So vast was the mobilization that Grand Marshall Tanba Dragonborn declared that the Command was the greatest army ever seen upon the face of the world, capable of marching from Tianlou to Anbenncóst without halting.

They must have gone crazy with recruiting as soon as I declared war, because I was sure they didn't have more than 750k when it started.

He was true to his word and his station, as the assembled host marched against the southern flank of the Qašnitu invasion. The battle that unfolded was one that had been unmatched on Halann since the days of legend, with over six hundred thousand soldiers fighting on the fortified approaches to Tabharaan. Though the armies of Karqašlu were driven from the field, they inflicted more casualties upon the hobgoblins than they received, and retreated in good order behind the fortifications that had been assembled on the Ascension Peninsula

Direct battle was not the Command's only weapon. The Oni had long been held as slaves, working their Dark magics against the world and providing the Command with the enslaving tool of Korashi, or Siya Sahabaš. Though they plotted against their masters, they also did not wish to see Surael's Light wipe away their workings. In the darkest corners of Qašnitu-guarded Rahen, their touch worked to manipulate the inhabitants fearful of the war and the surplus of spirits that still filtered out of the ruined High Temples.

Though the Light of Surael had propagated into the depths of the Serpentspine, His teachings were not interpreted in the same way by all the states that dwelt there. The dwarves who swore fealty to Karqašlu declared that orcs were creatures of the Darkness, having spawned from the Dark ritual of an ancient evil. The Bittu szal Lahmaš issued a counter-statement, citing the works of Jaddar and the evidence of successful orcish civilization in Cannor. They re-iterated that the policy of Karqašlu was that all were welcome within its borders, so long as they were willing to embody the Light.

Battles raged back and forth across Rahen for months, but it was a strategic error by the Grand Marshall that saw Karqašlu triumph and drive the last hobgoblin army from the region. Tanba Dragonborn marched a portion of his army to the northern flank, which succeeded in forcing the Qašnitu forces there to retreat, but left his remaining forces in Rahen vulnerable to a counterattack.

Development of the mountainous region of Karqašlu continued throughout the war, with an increasing focus on searching for valuable coal, which was seeing increasing use as a fuel for the machines of industry now spreading across the nation. Though Bulwar was not as rich as Cannor or the Serpentspine, discoveries were made that could kickstart the further industrialisation of the nation.

The initial setbacks in the war effort worried Damaris, and with the aid of the Bittu szal Lahmaš she prepared a vast divination ritual to peer into the future and seek a path that would ensure victory for Karqašlu. Though she did speak of exactly what vision she saw, her following actions made it clear that she had learned of information that would be beyond even the combined efforts of all four Bittu to catalogue.

After much hinting, it is time to show off one of the most broken abilities in the mod. For the cost of 340 adm (depending on country size) and 150 dip + mil, you get -43% APC for a single year. There are a whole host of things you can do with this, such as grabbing very cheap techs or finishing entire idea groups in one go, but I'll be focusing on a couple in particular. Kumarkand/Karqašlu is also uniquely suited to making use of foresight, as if we get the bad outcome (which increases in probability the more you use it) you can simply abdicate your ruler and get a new one with the same magic schools.

She gave the Bittu szal Sarnagir a long list of names, of Ituqattar officers and even undrafted civilians, all of whom she claimed had proven themselves as brilliant commanders in the future she had seen. Over the course of the next few months, the entire military saw a massive overhaul in its leadership that put the perfect generals in place to counter the tactics of the Command.

Generals are now so cheap that we can go straight to 100% professionalism, stick on slackening recruiting and have a year of it for near-free. This also affects the cost of bombarding forts and other mil power actions.

Another initiative was to drive the adoption of new farming techniques and technologies. With the gift of a view of the future, Damaris suddenly held a great appreciation for the technologies coming out of Rayaz and Fahvanosy and directed the Bittu szal Amašuri as to which ones to adopt in order to see the greatest economic return. She also saw to it that the mountain cities were tended to carefully so that they could bloom without the swathes of environmental damage that she claimed would be caused by overmining of coal and metals.

A 30-dev province that can be improved for just 4 mana? I'll take that deal. This is the best use of dip power when activating foresight, sending your development into overdrive. As we've already been stacking dev cost as Surakeš-Karqašlu, we can get even more out of it and stack our grain production into space. After this batch we're at 20% of world production, and we can do it again later.

A revitalized Ituqattar made swift gains in the second year of the war, advancing to the point where the Kharunyana was fordable and opening the route into Shamakhad. The order was given to march directly for Sarilavhan while the opportunity was open and before the Command could organise a defence.

Though the sheer scale of the conflict with the Command had necessitated growing the size of the Ituqattar and recruiting commoners from across the nation, there had been little impact on the camaraderie and noble professionalism of soldiery. Though they would emerge from this campaign with noble titles and lands of their own, at that moment they rode side-by-side onto the battlefield, all of them patriotic Qašnitu.

The sprawling war camp of Sarilavhan was near-unguarded, its defenders having scattered under the rapid advance of the Ituqattar. Batteries of Korashi-laced shells were fired from the RPU Headquarters, dropping dozens of Zamukaraš from the sky and making the heavily-fortified compound the top priority in the city. As it was steadily levelled by conventional artillery, from the rubble burst dozens of magi of all Halessi races, 'shamans' as the Command would refer to them, eager to wreak vengeance on the authority that had imprisoned them for the crime of magical talent.

This is a very nice buff to have, accelerating our campaign and dropping their Korashi Reserves (the Command's unique government mechanic) potentially enough to trigger the Shaman Revolt disaster. It's not much of a problem for the Command in the version I'm running, but in more recent versions of the mod it has been significantly buffed. Maybe we'll see it in action the next time we have to face the Command in another campaign.

As Damaris' vision of the future began to fade, she put the final touches upon the gardens of the northern, southern and eastern mountains. Her daughter Keturah took it upon herself to see the roost-spires of the harpy homelands flourish, both in growing curtains of blossoming vines that dangled from the peaks and cliffs and in connecting them to the cities sprouting around the burgeoning mining industry.

The offensive continued, swinging southwards into Xianjie. These spiritually-attuned lands were the site of countless Korashi Forges, vast industrial complexes where Sahabaš was refined into Siya Sahabaš and the chains were forged that bound magic to the will of the war machine. The shamans fighting alongside the Ituqattar tore down the forges with vengeful glee, before dispersing into the misty hills to begin to rally their hidden brethren.

Hitting the Korashi Forge provinces in the Command also hurt their Korashi Reserves, though they don't give you as good a buff as the RPU HQ.

With the Qašnitu forces focused on a direct assault on the Command, it was inevitable that Baihon Xinh would not be able to hold against the strength of the Command. However, the offensive had drawn enough of the Command's forces that their conquests were limited to the dense and spirit-filled Bomdan Jungles. It would not be easy land for the Command to hold, while the core Baihon lands were safe to rebuild and prepare to take advantage of the Qašnitu successes.

Freed from the southern front, the armies of the Command launched an immediate counteroffensive into Rahen, marshalling all of their slave states to join them in cutting off the supply lines of the Ituqattar. This was to be their final play, do or die, for if they failed to do this then they would not be able to stop the tide of the Light.

The Ituqattar were hardened from years of campaign experience against the hobgoblins, while the new generals hired at the recommendation of the Akalunakali proved their skill in countering the tactics of the Command. It had only taken a few years of war for the invincibility of the Command to be shattered and the last of their armies to be sent fleeing eastwards. Victory became a matter of time.

Many had wondered where the Grand Marshall had been during the final counteroffensive of the Command. He had granted himself an easier task; fighting in the caverns of the Serpentspine where only Karqašlu's client states had any presence. This did not save him or his forces, as the coward was crushed in battle by the elite Sarraka, who had been dispatched to hunt him down. Though he escaped through the many circuitous tunnels, he did not reappear for the rest of the war.

The work of Karqašlu had re-unified Rahen, even if it would only last for the remaining duration of the war. However, it allowed for the first time countless philosophers caught on opposite sides of fortified borders to meet in the Hall of Endless Debate in Rayavhashapal and discuss what the Qašnitu occupation of Rahen and the arrival of the Way of Jaddar meant for the teaching of the High Philosophy. Many argued that the High Gods had proven their failure at the hands of the Command and the Rending, and that only Surael could guide Rahen into the future, while others disagreed and accused Karqašlu of becoming an imperial power just like the Command, enforcing its own vision of the world upon the subcontinent.

No conclusion was reached, but a new influx of ideas began to spread westwards along the Golden Highway, bringing with them questions from those who saw the Akalunakali as no different from the tyrant she and her co-conspirators had deposed.

Such debates began to bubble within the Bittu szal Lahmaš, questioning whether the absolute power of the Akalunakali was necessary, now that the four Bittu managed matters of state. Questions that began to touch upon the edge of treasons, the thought that the monarchy might not be needed at all. The solution of the more conservative thinkers was to agree that she no was no longer the embodiment of the will of the nation, but she had still clearly been blessed by Surael in order to have the fortitude to wear the helm and guard it from the return of tyranny. As a divine figurehead, she could continue to shine her Light over the nation as it grew beyond the bounds of a single harpy to manage.

Replacing 'I am the state', to squeeze out a little more territory from this war.

The war finally came to an end, Tanba Dragonborn conceding Rahen in a letter sent from his holdfast somewhere in the lands of the Dragon Command. His claims of military hegemony were proven to be false, and he turned to licking his wounds, dealing with a shaman insurgency, and preventing a coup by the other Commands. This victory did not bring peace to Rahen, as roving regiments of hobgoblin and Wuhyun loyalists continued to threaten the countryside, but the key forts of the region were under control, divided between Karqašlu and its allies.

I focused on taking forts over pretty borders to help with our assault when the next war comes.

Those who had spent the past five years fighting in distant Haless returned to a Karqašlu tense with a changing of the ages. Discontent from wartime restrictions and conscription murmured beneath the surface, engineers and intellectuals resented the continued restrictions on artificery, and conversely magi resented their marginalisation in the civilian economy in favour of industrial machinery. The bloom of the Qašnitu paradise garden was beginning to wither, and no one could tell if it would revitalize or perish.

A new generation of Ituqattar settled into their farm estates, rich with the pay of a long campaign. They brought with them new advisors and their ideas from across Rahen, planting new crops and testing new techniques, while making use of Sarhali machines to work their vast fields with little manual labour needed. A flood of unemployment began to sweep across the nation, further exacerbating the looming crisis.

The government was still running high off its victory over the command, and turned its attention to an issue that had long lingered at the edge the national interest. The Divenhal swarmed with traders travelling to and from Re'Uyel, taking the wealth of Karqašlu away to the lands of Cannor. Negotiations with Corvuria and Busilar began to break down, with the Cannorians insisting that free trade remain in place even if that would impact the flow of money and goods. Eventually it was agreed that a punitive expedition would be required.

This is one of the less thematic Surakeš mission imo. You'll almost certainly have to go invading outside of Bulwar, as there is no way you are getting 40% of the power in Eborthil trade node without suppressing whoever holds that node.

Though Cannor was no great foe, only requiring a handful of divisions of the Ituqattar, it would still be a campaign that would cause an economic shock in the bazaars of the nation. The intention was for the war to end quickly, beginning with advancing across the Flooded Coast to secure trade concessions from Corvuria, before cajoling the members of the Empire of Anbennar to grant access to Busilar. Thieving Arrow was also called into the war as a counter to the armies of Marrhold, which had made their own inroads into the Serpentspine.

In the heights of the Šad Našratu, mines were being carefully dug to preserve the natural landscape, but such endeavours required the efficiency of machines to keep them from having a massive cost in the lives and health of their workers. The introduction of steam engines was of great importance, but proved another conflict point between artificers trying the skirt the bounds of the law by quietly enhancing their machines and magi who enchanted the devices directly.

The tensions and contradictions of Karqašlu reached boiling point in 1711, when a treatise calling for widespread reform was published in Brasan. It put forward the argument that the government was far more concerned with material wealth and international power than embodying the Light, that the gardens it had built were only meant for the rich and powerful and that the millions that served under the Ituqattar and the Bittu were rapidly losing their opportunity to do their duty to Surael, as machines and magic took up higher and higher positions in society. The document was soon spread to other major cities, including the capital, and became the talk whispered in homes and gardens along the length of the Suran.

Here we go again…

Damaris did not live to see this come to pass, as she fell ill shortly before the publication and was sequestered away in a roost-spire for the following weeks until her death. Her daughter, Keturah, took up the master helm, but held little interest in the politics of the nation. She was devoted to seeing the homes of her harpy sisters flourishing just as the rivers did, leaving leadership in the rising crisis to the experts of the Bittu.

Through her efforts, the gardens became a popular location for members of all races who sought the colder and clearer air of the heights. Far from the turbulence of the rivers, people could rest and enjoy a slow and simple life in the shadow of the mountains. For those watching from below, whether loyalist or burgeoning revolutionary, this only demonstrated a willingness to ignore the urgency of the situation, whether from a regular person retreating from their holy duty or for one who had the power to change things.

After over a century of dominance, the frontier republic of Ebenmas was defeated by a the Ynnic Empire, a collection of nations that all swore allegiance to the Kingdom of Trompolere. The motley collection of city states and Cannorian colonies had resisted the raids of the horsemen of the Epednan Expanse and finally turned their superior industrial strength against them. The defeat of Ebenmas saw their hard-fought conquests in Eordand shatter and their grip upon the frozen northern coast loosen.

That's quite the fall for a nation that was the strongest in North Aelantir for so long.

The Ituqattar continued to march towards Busilar, while negotiations with Corvuria were conducted to secure major trade concessions over the East Divenhal. The agreement saw the waters now patrolled by Qašnitu vessels, while river trade remained the purview of the Corvurians, and reparations were paid for the lost profits of decades of trade conflict. While the real battles would be fought in Cannor, two divisions of the Ituqattar were also dispatched from Kheterata to secure Busilar's Sarhali holdings, with the goal of freeing them from Cannorian colonialism.

Anger and frustration bubbled over into riots and desertion in the heart of the nation, shocking those who had lived their whole lives with war and rebellion being something only felt by the frontier. The days of the civil wars of the mid-seventeenth century were returning, and the violence only served to stoke the flames further. The Lightbringers stood back from supressing the riots, citing texts written by Jaddar that forbid the Chosen from warring among themselves, and it was not until some of the Ituqattar returned from the Corvurian front that the riots were dispersed. The heavy-handed response incited further anger with the administration, anger that the Bittu szal Brasan did little to suppress as it saw its chance to take the lead in national affairs.

Seizure of Busilar's ports on the Divenhal were enough to make Karqašlu the dominant power in the sea, though the true beneficiaries of this were the merchants. Many of them were allied to the revolutionaries, though primarily out of resentment for the entrenched aristocracy of the Ituqattar, and enriching them further only further bolstered the funds of those who supported change from the shadows.

Brasan was at the centre of it all, a vast city as large as Panu Karqašlu itself, and equally as resplendent in the wealth earned by monopolising trade between the endpoint of the Golden Highway and Re'Uyel. It was almost a nation unto itself, as it began to administer itself without the oversight of the government in the capital. The Bittu szal Brasan refused to deploy Lightbringers to the city, and its representatives stood before the other three Bittu and demanded that change be brought to the nation before it tore itself apart.

Small lore note: the Bittu szal Brasan is not named after the city, but both are named after a djinn who aided the ancient Bulwari.

If Karqašlu was to be Surael's Garden upon Halann, a paradise unseen since the times when the gods still lived, then it needed to find an answer to the concerns of its weakest, its poorest, and its meekest. For now they had power, they had backing, and they had the numbers to seize the reins of power and forge their own vision of an earthly paradise.

With this, the Surakeš mission tree comes to an end, though there is still the final event to fire.

To be continued…

Votes

The spread of revolutionary ideals threatens to upend the garden that we have so carefully cultivated. The new Akalunakali would rather tend to Karqašlu than further than risk slaughtering her own people in the name of her personal rule. Each of the four Bittu contemplate their own approach to addressing the rising discontent, but only one will succeed in seeing their vision of the earthly paradise of Karqašlu come to fruition.

Bittu szal Sarnagir – Hold Firm – The Akalunakali is blessed by Surael, and has withdrawn from the tyrannical ways of the Silver Regime to ponder upon His will. We of the four Bittu are her eyes and limbs as we shape the world, and need no further reform. (Resist the revolution. This option will have +5 bonus votes as the Sarnagir won the last vote)
Bittu szal Amašuri – Economic Concessions – Political considerations are born from economic considerations. Free trade has brought vast wealth to the nation, but many citizens have been left behind. Working to eliminate inequality will ease their pain and their anger, and bring us closer to unity under Surael.
(Enact reforms and privileges until ~50 absolutism to mitigate the effects of the revolution)
Bittu szal Lahmaš – Political Concessions – Widespread reform is needed to bring Karqašlu in line with other modern nations such as the Sarhali republics. A constitution, an elected grand assembly, and widespread economic reform will answer all the concerns of our population and make our garden a true paradise.
(Enact reforms and privileges to reach as close to 0 absolutism as possible to eliminate the effects of the revolution.)
Bittu szal Brasan – The War on Halann Resumes – The Lightbringers have done little to impede the revolutionaries, seeing them as the newest incarnation of the Jaddari fighting against the inward focus of modern Karqašlu. With the right push, this populist movement could become the wave that sweeps across Halann and sees Surael's Light brought to all. (Embrace the revolution. Note that we will retain our magic capability, but studying new magic will be harder thanks to elections.)

Vote by clicking on the below image.



Though it might seem less pertinent in the present situation, the lessons of the war with the Command offer the chance to further shape the nation in preparation for future conflicts.

Economic – Our wealth has only accelerated as industry continues to sprout. Redoubling our efforts to make ourselves the wealthiest nation on Halann will make us unassailable in war. (+2 bonus votes)
Diplomatic – Baihon Xinh and Thieving Arrow have proven themselves useful as distractions against the Command and Cannorians respectively. Cementing these relationships will make future conflicts straightforward.
Influence – Our friends have forged themselves into powerful forces that, while not capable of fighting the Command in open battle, can seize swathes of territory that would be expensive for us to assault directly.
Offensive – Striking at the heart of the beast has proven highly effective. Further campaigns will be conducted along the same lines. (+5 bonus votes)
Mercenary – Hired soldiers have proven their worth in storming fortifications that have been breached by the power of our magi. Integrating them further into our army will give us a significant manpower boost.

Vote for up to two options by clicking on the below image. Second place will earn bonus votes for the final idea group vote.



Voting will remain open for 72 hours

 

[jak7139]

Not all tyranny is as open as Alusir's was. Surakes might become the very thing they once fought against.

 

[Sybot]

It was quite close, and technically with bonus votes Hold Firm should have won, but given both options for concessions were ahead I will take their combined lead and declare Political and Economic Concessions the winner, striking a balance between these. There was not much appetite to go revolutionary in this campaign. Meanwhile, Offensive won by a landslide, with Economic coming a distant second.

Chapter Twenty-One: To An Accord
1714-1728

Halls of Accord, Panu Karqašlu, 1721

Blossoms scattered across the garden, settling on the grass, on the paths and on the babbling brook that wound its way through the grounds. Trees offered shade and a light dusting of petals as their flowers caught the breeze and drifted from their branches. Each species had been chosen with great care to a release a bountiful spectrum that intermingled such that the garden was painted with a rainbow. Representatives walked the garden, taking in the beauty as they talked on the way of the Light and the future of the nation.

Farûn could not care less about such frivolity, but he recognised that the tallfolk were awed by such a spectacle. It was something he had been warned about, upon leaving Ovdal Tûngr, that they would try to overwhelm him with sights and sounds that would leave him deaf and blind to the political manoeuvring happening in front of his face.

He and his companion walked across an intricate stone bridge that spanned the brook, and Farûn distracted himself with admiring the fine detail that had been put into it. He knew that there were fellow dwarves living out among the surface cities, and there were the distinct marks of proper craftmanship on the stonework. The cuts were clean and the edges smoothed to perfection, the cement holding them together showed no signs of wear, and each individual stone had a tiny signature painstakingly carved into it that the average eyes would not be able to make out.

Across the walls of the bridge was engraved an intricate image of the Qasnitu people, all races represented. Humans, elves, dwarves, goblins, harpies and gnolls marched in a column headed by an indistinct figure atop a horse, whose body radiated the rays of the sun. Even those not normally considered among the main population had their place in the sunlight, with orcs, trolls, centaurs and harimari all joining the column with equal weight as to the other races. Whoever had carved it had to have been a master to get to get such detail into such a small space.

"-from two of the other Bittu," Aragad said, drawing Farûn's thoughts from admiring the works around him.

"Of course," he said, trying to catch up on the conversation in his head.

The human was his guide to this whole world, a merchant with an appreciation for the underground who had spent years of his life negotiating with the mining cartels deep both in the coastal hold and in the mountains. That required a head for politics, to negotiate and bring several competing concerns to an amicable result. Farûn, on the other hand, had once been the chief operating officer of one of said cartels. He had only ever had to deal with his fellow dwarves, and while he had done enough of a good job that his fellows had thrust him into this position to represent them, it was a very different set of skills to what his companion had told him of.

A small cluster of representatives were stood where a mixture of blue and red petals converged to give the impression of purple, shifting with the breeze. Two humans and an elf stood around a pedestal where a bowl of fruit had been set out. On noticing the two others approaching, Arefi, one of the humans and famous magi, waved at them.

"Our trader and miner," she said, snapping her fingers and sending a shower of illusory sparks over the fruit, "come and join us, there's a lot to discuss."

They approached, and the other human, dressed in the ceremonial uniform of the Ituqattar, stepped forward with a hand extended to shake.

"I am Rizgar, of the seventeenth division. My soldiers have spoken well of the make of their weapons and tower chariots. We have much to be grateful of our dwarven friends," he said.

"I am just a miner, not a smith," Farûn said, accepting the hand to shake.

He looked at the elf, who merely smiled and stepped forward to speak to the assembled group.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice before the session. If you have not met me before, I am Taelar Trizuir, a student of the schools of infrastructure for over two hundred years," he said. Farûn thought that was a strange way to put it, but he had heard the name before. Taelar had worked on the Golden Highway in his youth, and had been a proponent of extending it across the Salahad. The elf continued, "we have here representation from all steps of the logistical trail of our great nation. From those who mine and shape the tools of war and industry, to those who ship them, to those who enchant them, and then finally to those who wield them."

The exhortations continued for a while, and Farûn could feel the roots of his beard going numb as the talk began to wash over him. He looked at Aragad, who noticed his look and fixed him with a firm stare in response. The man wasn't going to do anything for him, he would need to show them himself that this commoner could not simply be walked over with words and pretty engravings.

"That is all very fluffy," he said, cutting off Taelar in mid-sentence, "but what exactly are you offering?"

"How blunt," Arefi said, "you do know what you want, don't you?"

"There is going to be a war, is what I am getting," Farûn said, pulling together things as best he could, "if we are going to be asked to increase mining output to support it, we need compensation."

"Even if it is for the sake of the nation?" Rizgar asked.

"Even if so," Farûn said. He levelled a glare at Taelar. "Your lot are all about working together and spreading power to the people. You do not light a cave just by stepping inside."

Maybe you could these days, but the idiom still held. Ovdal Tûngr was daylit down to the fifth level, thanks to extensive works with cobalt glass from Orlghelovar that redirected sunlight into the depths. Even so, the work to smooth out a cavern and eliminate all places where shadows might hide was not something that happened just because it was demanded.

"Compensation needn't be monetary," Arefi said, "I'm sure all of us on the famed logistical trail have something we need that is more than just coin and crystal."

"Now, before we get into specifics," Taelar said, "are we all on the same page, and willing to consider such offers as they come? If so, we can discuss this in more detail after the session."

Whatever sense of timing he had was very close to the mark, as the sound of distant bell marked the beginning of the next session of the Accord. As the rest of those people in the garden began to filter indoors, the five of them gathered around the fruit each gave their assent that they were at least curious as to taking the lead in supplying the upcoming war. It was a strange sensation for Farûn to consider, that he would be talking about something that would kill thousands, probably more. That he had reached this position despite being born in a hovel carved out of the mining efforts on the seventh level of the hold, and now here he was. He had to learn quickly, or this would all overcome him.

The group followed inside, splitting along the lines of the Bittu each of them represented and filtering through one of four doors into the grand central chamber of the Accord.

If the gardens outside had been designed for beauty and peace, then the interior was designed to demonstrate function and power. The chamber was an enormous square, centred on an enormous dias with multiple lecterns for speakers and an ornate, presently unoccupied, throne sat at the centre, surrounded by rising stands each capable of seating hundreds built up against each of the walls. Members of each Bittu who had been elected, each in their own ways, to represent the interests of the people of Karqašlu, were steadily filling up their own stands, with the most senior members sat closest to the centre and the green members at the back.

As Farûn ascended his steps alongside his fellow popularly elected representatives, he noted that his was the most eclectic mixture of all of them. While the other Bittu were mostly filled with Bulwari humans, elves and harpies, nearly every race and culture could be found among those of his own. It was his duty to see that Copper Dwarven needs were met by this Grand Accord, or else the years of tense reform would be for nothing.

A herald called upon Taelar to take the stage, his business having been selected by some arcane procedure that Farûn had yet to fully understand, and the elf stepped up onto the stage, alone.

To Farûn's surprise, when Taelar chose who to turn towards first to begin his address on his plans, he turned towards the representatives of the people, not those of the military or economy or priesthood. In the game of politics, the people now held real power, power that could change the future of the nation if only he, and the rest of those like him, could begin to grasp it.

Excerpts from Light upon the Planes, published in Utur Karqašlu, 2026 AA

Though debates continued and the Bittu fought in the halls and offices of Panu Karqašlu, one facet that was agreed upon by all corners was to prevent the secession of the outer reaches of Karqašlu. The Silver Regime had forged a single Qašnitu identity, but it did not include those who held a different heritage that was distinct from that of Bulwar. The Cannorian settlers in Bahar, the Kheteratans, and the gnolls that roamed the plains south of the Salahad were all highlighted as potential sources of turmoil and granted permission to form devolved governments to manage their own local bureaucracy.

The war with Busilar raged on across Sarhal and southern Cannor, with the last great offensive being an attempt to march up the Mother's Sorrow and cut off the Sarhali front, lead by a gentleman adventurer who had been plundering the heart of Sarhal. After his defeat, there was no more resistance from the Busilari government and negotiations for peace began.

Though half-elves were seen a sign of end of the ways of the Cult of Jaher and the children of a new age, they remained very few in number. Far more common were half-orcs, born of those fleeing the collapse of the orcish states of the mountains as they met the welcoming folk of Karqašlu. Many first settled as manual labourers, but as they integrated both orcs and half-orcs were soon found in all walks of life across the nation.

Devolving power to the outer provinces did little to stem the anger of those in the vast urban areas of Karqašlu Proper. The Suran still burned with riots and rebellions, pushing the Bittu to come to an answer on the crisis before it spiralled out of control.

The resolution came with an alliance of two over the others. The Bittu szal Amašuri and szal Lahmaš both saw violence as a failure state for the nation, be that the revolutionaries marching on the royal palace or them being crushed under the hooves of the Ituqattar. Rather than quibble on the specifics, the greatest economic and philosophical thinkers of both Bittu came together to produce two treatises on the nature of government. Wrapped in the doctrine of Jaddar, it was clear how forward-thinking the Divine Herald had been. By preserving and amplifying the Light in the actions of people, while constraining any acts of Darkness, the government could serve the people while holding the justification to protect them from their own worst impulses. With such a justification, a new breed of zealot began to emerge between the absolutists of Sarnagir and the populists of Brasan, the Accordists. This anti-revolutionary faction fought not just to end the Revolution, but to end the conditions that brought about the Revolution and reforge the nation into one that Surael would eternally shine upon through the accord of all its people.

This really fixes the liberty desire issues we had been seeing as a result force-converting all our subjects, so the bonus LD from Leviathan is no longer needed.

The Accordists had to make their moves quickly, as the war with Busilar had drawn to a close and hundreds of thousands of freshly blooded Ituqattar were returning to Karqašlu. Though the entire Sarhali coast and much of the Salahad was annexed, this was only a temporary state of affairs and these regions would soon be managing themselves. The Lightbringers and Ituqattar would all return at once and the simmering tension would boil over into violence on the streets.

For centuries the people of Akasik had been occupied by foreign and rapacious powers, be they gnolls worshipping creatures of the Malevolent Dark or Cannorians seeking blood and treasure. For the first time the region would be unified under Surael, as the Akalate of Udam Akasik, free of foreign influence. A local noble was raised as Akal and missionaries were dispatched to see the people returned to the Light. The Salahad territories were too sparsely populated to form a coherent state, so would remain under Qašnitu protection for the foreseeable future.

The spark of reform was lit in Azka-Sur, as Accordisst engaged in a fiery debate with one of the Revolution's most prominent thinkers. Despites efforts by supporters of the Bittu szal Brasan to incite the attending crowd into a riot, the rapid pace of reform by the Accordists won over significant portion of the revolutionaries. As they departed the university with Maganir they were confronted by the Lightbringers, who intended to take him into custody for their own ends. However, the sheer mass of people following them gave the Lightbringers pause and they withdrew. This retreat marked a downturn in the public's view of the organisation, whether effective or dangerous, and gave the Accordists the political room they needed to swoop in upon reform.

One of the most important reforms was to undercut the ideal of the Way of Jaddar as a militant faith that was merely a replacement for the Command. The plans of the Bittu szal Brasan to resume the War on Halann would lead to untold destruction, even if fought with the intention of creating a paradise under Surael. More moderate voices were called in to form a permanent advisory board on matters of faith for the Akalunakli and serve as advocates for Jadd worshippers beyond the borders of Karqašlu.

The Ituqattar and Sahiru were not ignored, as their support for the Bittu szal Sarnagir could spell doom for reforms if they were angered. Military and mercenary seats were established within the government that would be filled by their representatives. The Accordists were not above simple bribery either, as they paid a significant premium on contracts for spirit hunters in Rahen to placate them.

With further loyalty secured among their potential enemies, the Accordists moved to sate the revolutionaries directly. They established a commission for the economic redevelopment of the nation, including a massive program of expansion of the cities that were filling to bursting with migrants who had been put out of work by the arrival of mechanization. They also took the radical decision to lift restrictions on the rights of those who did not follow the Sun Cult and insert members of the most prominent minority faiths onto the religious advisory board, including the High Philosophy, Regent Court, Ravelian Faith, and Dwarven Pantheon. They assured their allies among the clergy that their goal was not to enshrine these as equal under the law, but to chart the best route to their enlightenment under Surael, even if that meant some regional syncretism.

The husband of the Akalunakli had always held a merely ceremonial role, from the heights of the Silver Regime to the quiet leadership of Keturah. Even from such a position his name held some weight, and he spoke out in favour of the Accordists and their reforms, claiming it would allow his wife to focus on the greater goal of tending to the Garden of Surael rather taking everything upon herself.

Artifice remained a point of potential split among the Accordists, with the Amašuri seeking to purchase the doodads to bolster the economy, and the Lahmaš holding an intellectual interest in them while not wishing to upset the status of magic in the nation. They feared that the introduction of mass artificery would cause a disruption almost as bad as mechanization had, and so moved to maintain restrictions and tariffs on the import of doodads, as well as ongoing oversight of Gommo office in Aqatbar. While the contention remained, that they were not banned entirely was satisfactory for those who maintained interest in them.

If you've been reading the Victoria 3 Anbennar dev diaries, doodads is the official term for an item of artifice.

Finally, the reforms culminated in the establishment of the Qašnitu Grand Accord, or Utur-Laruq, an elected body that would hold power, draft laws, and offer a voice to those who had not had the chance to speak. The Halls of Accord, the great chamber where this body would meet, was divided into four quadrants, each one representing the four Bittu. For Sarnagir, seats were held by military and religious figures elected by their respective institutions, for Lahmaš the same stood true for academics, intellectual professionals and magi, while Amašuri held merchants, landowners, and economists elected in the same manner. Beyond them, the most radical of the four was the Bittu szal Brasan, where every member was to be directly elected by the general population. A common citizen might now find the means to speak alongside the most powerful and educated people in the nation.

The first order of business was to prove that this new institution was functional. The Bittu szal Brasan would be the hardest to bring onboard, after the Lightbringer's efforts to disrupt national stability, but as their representatives were fully popularly elected the power of a militant organisation could be undercut. Eight special elections had been held by the time of the first session, with fifty more still slowly being prepared, but that was enough that the face of Brasan now became the brave leaders who had stood up and stepped form their local political environments directly into national politics. With a resounding vote of agreement, an overhaul of the century-old canal system along the Suran was approved, bringing work and renovation to the growing cities.

A breath that had been held across Karqašlu was finally released, the air gone from all but the most fervent revolutionary as the realisation of the promise of reform and advancement smothered the anger of the average citizen. Electoral politics was something new to the nation and the rollout was fraught with conflict as candidates scrambled to form campaigns, but the moment of danger had passed.

The revolt risk from the Revolution scales based on absolutism. At this point, we are running a max absolutism of 26, halfway between the political and economic concessions options, with the actual value fluctuating further due to parliament seats being assigned. At these low levels, the Revolution has no impact at all.

On the first full meeting of the Accord, the Akalunakli attended and stood in the centre of the chamber, the eyes of the nation upon her. She explained that she had foreseen this, through the magic of her helm, and learned that her intervention would only incite the absolutists to rally behind and lead to inevitable civil war. Now that the moment had passed, she was willing to sign away a significant portion of her powers to the Accord, including the right to declare war, the right to push forward her own laws and the majority of the tax earnings that previously furnished her palaces. It was not a complete abrogation of responsibility as she retained the power of veto over laws, control of the master helm (though with oversight from the Bittu szal Lahmaš) and significant ceremonial and religious power. Through this balance, power began to shift at last from the helm that had sat upon so many heads.

Popping Foresight to allow us to take this tech 11 years early and start on Offensive ideas. I also dump all my free dip power into developing provinces.

Among the first issues debated by the Accord was on the reforming of the military. The wars in Sarhal and Haless had cost hundreds of thousands of lives, but the majority of those deaths were to injury, disease and malnutrition, not to enemy action. If the Ituqattar were to take the fight to the enemy, then they needed further bolstering to reduce enemy fortresses and secure proper logistical trails in hostile territory. Soon, legislation was passed that founded military academies to train the next generation of officers and a new class of war magi specialized in demolished fortifications and specifically countering the threat of the deployment of Korashi by the Command.

Getting five out of seven ideas isn't bad for a single batch of mil points. There are probably ways to optimize it to get an entire idea group at once.

Rahen had not been integrated into Karqašlu proper, nor did they have any representation in the Accord, as the long-term intention for the region was to see it freed from the Command's influence entirely and made into an ally much as the dwarves had. However, worship of Surael had spread wildly among the lower castes who found their lot in the world improved by the impartiality of the Jadd. Celebrations of the sun became frequent throughout the land, placating the spirits who were bound to Dhenbasana, the Great Spirit of celebration and easing the ongoing burden of the Rending.

Politics was a not a simple endeavour, not when the nation spanned the length of a continent, and opportunity remained for agents of the Malevolent Darkness to find purchase in the system. Several of the representatives from Sarhal, in the vicinity of the Shadow Swamp, were discovered to be under the influence of the hags that dwelt in the depths of the swamp. It was a reminder of what lurked upon the southern border, and incited the Accord to make its first declaration of war.

The hag coven and their remaining troll servants still lurked in the depths of the Shadow Swamp, and had the protection of both of their Sarhali neighbours. The lizardfolk had come to an agreement with the hags to study the Shadowroot Matriarch and the planar boundary disturbance for their own scientific ends, while the Mengi of Lipmekat sought to prevent Karqašlu from advancing deeper into Sarhal.

War raged in the cold north of Haless, as both the Command and Armed Republic of Kalsyto fought to absorb the remaining free nations, anticipating a conflict over this distant frontier. Seeing a population boom brought on by the absorption and settlement of vast swathes of the Forbidden Plains, and a citizenry that wielded weapons more often than the average hobgoblin, Kalsyto had outpaced the Command and become a candidate for true military dominance. The question remained however; with their relative isolation would they be in a position to wield it?

It was unusual to see the Akalunakali at the frontline, but she made clear that she intended to see the Shadow Swamp for herself and find out if it could be tended to so that it would flourish as the gardens of Karqašlu did. With her presence, the captive powers of Kar Alušir were more easily channelled through the Ituqattar helms and the magic of the Sarraka and Zamukaraš was redoubled, granting the soldiers the confidence that they were the mightiest in all Halann.

With a cavalry/shock build, war magic is incredibly powerful.

The first real battles of the war were not around the Shadow Swamp, but were instead on the desert frontier in the north. Rayaz deployed advanced armies equipped with heavy autoloader artillery but a lack of infantry or cavalry to screen them. While these weapons inflicted serious losses in the opening moments of battles, as soon as their lines broke they found themselves at the mercy of the Ituqattar and were obliterated.

The main front spanned thousands of miles, but they were quiet miles. A tense standoff ensued in the centre, while the cannons and magi of Karqašlu rapidly ground through the fortresses that had been raised from the greyscale mires. The Accord had given instruction that an all-out invasion of the hag's backers was not to go ahead, both to save lives and ensure that relations could be restored once the Shadow Swamp was secure.

Visiting a warzone was a dangerous decision, and it only grew in danger as technology and magic both advanced. While working with a group of volunteer Jasiéne's Daughters to tend to the wounded, a Mengi sniper recognised the master helm and took his shot. The power of Alušir awoke for a moment, and Keturah described a moment of terror as his voice began to speak up before she was able to steel herself and place him back within his dream. It had been enough to save her life, but it was a reminder of how important her duties were to the nation, and that her life was not one to give up so easily.

If you are casting war magic in the late game your ruler is at risk of exactly this happening. Levels in Abjuration allow you to block it with increasing effectiveness, but even Abjuration Level 3 has a chance of failure. If the other side is using Black Damestear bullets, then even Level 3 only gives you a 50/50 shot.

Wielding magical power to the extent that the Zamukaraš did was near-unbeatable to a more traditional army such as those fielded by Lipmekat. Even when outnumbered by tens of thousands, their barriers stood strong, their spells found their mark, and the enemy were cut down as their lines shattered under an ever-shifting chain of evocation, transmutation and enchantment. Holding the sky as they did, few could touch them.

The Mengi were the first to withdraw from the war, conceding their holdings on the eastern edge of the Shadow Swamp. Though the representatives of the Bittu zal Sarnagir at the Accord pushed for harsher terms, their aggression was outvoted by those who saw opportunity to reconcile with the sky-worshipping peoples of eastern Sarhal, as soon as the shadowy threat of the hags was eliminated.

Captured Rayazas artillery formed the basis for a new generation of conventional artillery to be deployed in the Qašnitu army, picking up on the technical advancements such as rifled barrels and autoloaders that did not require extensive use of either magic inscription or artifice doodads. The extensive infrastructure initiatives of the Accord would serve to see these new weapons moved quickly across the nation, be that on the other side of the desert or deep in the Raheni jungles.

Revitalization of the cities also continued apace, with overcrowded slums being cleared and replaced with towering apartments crafted from the finest modern brickwork with extensive gardens surrounding them. In the heart of the city of Bulwar, surrounded by the re-dredged and redecorated canals, was the Sun Garden, the greatest park and garden in all of Halann, demonstrating to citizens and visitors alike that Karqašlu ultimately stood for peace and for the careful tending of the world.

Now the Surakeš MT is truly complete.

Rayaz withdrew from the war with their portion of the Shadow Swamp remaining under their control, and so work was able to begin in hunting down the three hags that had dominated the lands since the Day of Ashen Skys. Hireet Smoketusk, Ilfanill Gloomweaver, and Komina Riftwhisper were sighted fleeing deeper into the depths of the swamp, their retreat covered by the deaths of thousands of their own followers in a suicidal last stand. However, in doing so they had completely conceded the Shadowroot Matriarch and with it the connection to the Shadow Plane that they relied upon for their fey plots.

The downside of losing most of our absolutism…

The early success in appeasing the spirits of Haless had encouraged further syncretic support among the clerical advisory board to mitigate and eventually end the Rending in the Raheni territories. Merchants were encouraged to work with spirits of trade, especially as the next campaign against the Command was likely to push towards the Kharunyana, which was known to be inhabited by a Great Spirit that was a devotee of the art of commerce.

From the days of Kumarkand, farming was the lifeblood of the land. As mechanization took hold, yields only increased and more and more of the world was fed by Qašnitu grain. Even as the cities developed and more complex industries began to take hold, the economics of the nation were still heavily based on finding new and innovative ways to move and sell food. It was a simple fact that all life, from the harpy to the dwarf, needed to eat.

While national attention withdrew from Sarhal to focus on a more pressing issue in the east, the Akalunakali remained behind in the Shadow Swamp to fulfil her dream of tending to vast reserve of unique plants and creatures that dwelled within. At the heart of it all was the Shadowroot Matriarch, pierced and tortured by the hags as part of their foul schemes. Purifying it of their influence and healing it would be the work of decades, but she was intent upon using up some of the vast magical reserves that she held to permanent push back the Darkness.

The Ituqattar continued to evolve with technological improvements. Metallurgical improvements that came with burgeoning industrialization made tower chariots cheaper and lighter, turning them into a more viable weapon to deploy. For those who were still on horseback, rifles were produced that did not need immediate reloading and could be fired at full gallop, allowing them to barrage the enemy relentlessly as they approached. To maintain the pace of military developments was absolutely necessary as the rate of advancement of the world at large continued to increase.

In the Halls of Accord, the representatives debated on what laws they could pass to aid the soldiers marching out to the front lines. In the ten years since the foundation of the Accord, it had settled into the normal flow parliamentary system, with progress not a rapid and radical as it had been to begin with, and so massive military overhaul was not on the cards. In the end, the Bittu szal Sarnagir was able to the requisition swathes of government land as quarters for troops on the march, which would dramatically reduce the cost of training new soldiers and housing them before they were deployed. It was small, but it would be valuable in the coming conflict.

While Karqašlu had been focused on internal reform and the war in Sarhal, the Command continued its campaigns as though nothing had changed. Daengun had lost the steppes and its connection to the valley north of the Jade Mountains, while Yanshen had been conquered in its entirety. Though the Command and Kalsyto stared at each other over a tense border in the north, it remained an isolated frontier that could be fought over with minimal impact.

The Accord agreed on one simple fact. The Command could not be allowed to exist any longer, for so long as it held strong to its ways of war and destruction it would always find a way to rise from the ashes and inflict pain on those around it. This time they would not stop halfway. This time they would march to every corner of Haless and give the Grand Marshalls no place to hide. The Great Command would be shattered at the hands of Karqašlu.

This CB is added in a more recent version of the mod, but I backported it. Normally it would only activate if the Command is specifically the No1 Great Power, but I adjusted it for our needs. Next time we will have a long fight ahead of us, as this one is all-or-nothing.

To be continued…

Next chapter will be the final chapter, epilogue aside. We have finished the MTs and are about to go for our final clash with the Command, and even going revolutionary might have only extended it by one or two more chapters.

 

[jak7139]

The final showdown is sure to be legendary! Karqaslu forever!

 

[Sybot]

Chapter Twenty-Two: To the Ends of Halann
1728-1738

Ruins of Sarilavhan, Occupied Command Territory, 1738

The Light flickered and dimmed, a bank of cloud rolling in to cover Surael's gaze as if He did not wish to look upon this scene any more than Kalila did. The master helm sat heavy on her head, pressing against her feathers uncomfortably, and the seat in which she was sat was not quite designed for a harpy, leaving her wings hung over the backstop. She was out of place, and yet she was the one who would cast final judgement on those before her.

All around was a wasteland, rubble that had once been homes and offices covering the ground to the horizon. However, this was the land of the Command, so those had also been armouries and barracks. The only clear land was the building before which she was sat, and a road carved through the rubble from the distant edge of what had once been a city. Built from stone painstakingly carried from Karqašlu, and with a courtyard large enough to hold a thousand people, the courthouse for the trials was a monument to the victory of the Light over what had stood here before.

"Grand Marshal, Marshals, Generals, and all other officers, draw your attention to the stand!"

A hundred heads lifted, and those who refused were forcibly held up by the soldiers patrolling the lanes between the prisoners.

It was a sight out of nightmare. A dozen rows of tall stakes had been driven into the ground of the courtyard, and chained to each of them was an emaciated figure in rags. Most were hobgoblins, but there were a dozen humans and a few orcs. At one time these were the mightiest commanders of the Command, and now they were left with nothing but scorn. Once-powerful warriors thin and sickly after years of imprisonment awaiting this moment, while hundreds of their comrades had found ways to die fighting their guards or commit suicide before reaching it.

And yet, this was what had to be done to put the final pin in centuries of suffering. Kalila did not wish it, but the vote of the Accord had been near-unanimous. This was what the people willed.

Around the courtyard were the seats filled with onlookers. The local plant life had not recovered from the levelling of the warcamp, but imported trees gave the guests meagre shade through struggling and wilted leaves. Among them were representatives from across Halann, of nearly every race and nearly every creed. Orcs from Grombar sat warily beside armed citizens of Kalsyto, while lizards in intricate robes were lost in conversation with gnomes adorned with strange gadgets.

Kalila herself was sat in a position that was above all of these, a towering stand from which she had a view of the courtyard, the courthouse, and the ruin that was all around them. She would have an entirely ceremonial role in this, until the final moments, and those who spoke on her behalf would take the smaller stand just below hers.

Jatasur szel Rabaghekhur stepped up and faced the assembled prisoners. The harimari was one of thousands of his folk who had embraced the coming of the Jadd, in spite of the ongoing occupation of southern Rahen. In the years since the arrival of Qašnitu troops to his homeland, he had risen the ranks of the Order of Judges and had spent his career on preparing a case for exactly this moment.

"You all here are accused of warmongering, slavery, mass-murder, tyranny, destruction of cultural artefacts, and ravaging of natural beauty," he said.

His voice was authoritative, his words precise. There was not a moment of throat clearing, or claws flicking through notes. All the arguments had already been laid out, everyone in attendance had been handed copies of the case files. It was a formality, but it paid to have every reasoning lined up.

"The verdict has been determined," Jatasur continued, "as your ways are those of war, we of the Order of Judges agreed that your guilt ought to be decided through a trial by combat. A trial that has already occurred, involving millions on both sides. You were defeated, and so you have failed."

Kalila expected discontent to rumble across the prisoners, but they merely looked upon the stand with weary eyes and drooped faces. They knew they had lost long ago and that this was all for show, just as much as she did.

"Before the judgement is rendered, you will have a moment to speak," Jatasur said, "are there any among you who will raise their voice?"

After a moment of quiet, one voice cut through. Sharp, practiced and not degraded from years of imprisonment.

"You do not understand your weakness," said Yuryan Lionborn, in perfect Qašnitu learned in her years of imprisonment, from the centre of the first row of stakes. The former Grand Marshal was as gaunt and bedraggled as any of her kin, but her dark red face held firm and her gaze pierced the air sharply enough to almost make Kalila flinch.

"As laid out in the prosecutorial documents, we are aware of what you consider strength," Jatasur replied, "and a refutation was issued, through the power of the Ituqattar."

"That is your weakness," Yuryan said, "you rely on power from beyond. Shamans, magi, whatever you might call them. Your queen wears a crown of a monster of magic, and you trust that it will not rise again."

When Kalila closed her eyes, she imagined she could see into the dream, see armies marching to conquer every corner of the world, see the ocean boiling as insane magics were wielded against it, see chariots that took to the sky pulled by dragons, see what ever the mad emperor dreamt up. She had faith in the works of the magi and artificers together, regularly maintaining the master helm and producing more helms for the network so that the dream would never fade. Was that faith enough?

"Only mundane discipline can stand against the monsters," Yuryan continued, "only iron rulership can supress the powers that threaten the fabric of the world."

"We are aware of your position," Jatasur said, raising a paw to signal a soldier to muzzle her if she got too out of hand, "it is evidenced in your extensive murder and enslavement of the magi of Haless. Do you seek leniency, based on your justification?"

"No," Yuryan said. She stood as tall as the chains would allow, and held her chin high. "As you said, our fate is sealed. I did not wish to depart without delivering a final warning."

She closed her eyes and did not move. The others around her all lowered their head, though whether that was out of a sense of defeat or reverence Kalila could not tell.

"If there are no more statements, then I will proceed," Jatasur said. He slammed his paws down on the stand drawing the attention of all attendees and prisoners. "For the crimes of the Command from the fall of the Ruin Kingdoms in 1431 through to atrocities committed in the course of their final defeat: every officer of rank captain and above will be executed, every military unit will be disbanded and disarmed, every slave will be freed. The Command, in both form and function, will be annihilated."

The time had come. Kalila stood from her seat, and with a flap of her wings found herself above the courtyard, looking down upon the hundred prisoners and countless onlookers. Below, Jatasur continued to read out the sentence, but Kalila tuned him out and focused upon drawing power from the master helm. Her syrinx thrummed, as her voice began to rise as the air around her began to shimmer and shift.

This was a technique her mother had devised, based on memories passed down of the 'Onslaught' that Kar Alušir had dreamed up. She thanked Surael that her mother, a gentle woman who had only wished to tend to her gardens, had never had to use it anger. This was her burden to bear, as her duty to Surael was to see her people safe and prosperous. She would not let any other take this task, even if another could wield the power of the helm.

Her song increased in volume, far beyond what she could naturally achieve, and the air swirled around in an increasing spiral. A wordless song that grieved for the devastation that lay all around them and prayed for an enlightened future where it would no longer be necessary. Light began to pass across her back, as the workings of her magic reached the clouds above and scattered them. Surael's Light shone down upon the courtyard and those doomed to die.

As her singing reached a crescendo, the air aligned perfectly for a fraction of a moment, a through a series of perfect air-based lenses a shaft of light pierced the gap between the heavens and Halann, stabbing directly through the centre of Yuryan's chest and leaving a cauterized hole where her heart once was. A moment later the intense heat took effect and her clothes and body caught fire, a burning candle among a hundred more to come. In her last moments, the Grand Marshal had not shifted an inch from her final pose of defiance.

There were still more to be executed, all looking on in horror at their fate to come. Kalila would sing for them, and make sure that their Light returned to Surael with a minimum of suffering. It was only right.

As, one by one, the last remnants of the Command went up in smoke, she made a pledge to herself that never again would Karqašlu stand for such destruction and death. They had been freed from the grasp of a madman and built gardens in the desert. There was no need to rule the world, simply to live in it and serve as the demonstration of the Way of Jaddar. Stand strong against the Darkness, protect the innocent, and offer peace to all who desire it. She prayed once again, that one day her ideals would hold true, from one end of Halann to the other.

Excerpts from Light upon the Planes, published in Utur Karqašlu, 2026 AA

It would have been remiss for the powers of the master helm to go unused during this war, even if the Akalunakali herself remained far from the frontlines. Kar Alusir had been famed for his farseeing, taking in entire continents through his silver-glazed eyes. Keturah did not go so far, but did use his power to chart the location of the Command's armies. Half a million soldiers marched through Shamakhad, making it clear to her and her generals that the new Grand Marshal, Yuryan Lionborn, would not make the mistakes of her predecessor.

The Grand Marshal was well aware of the greatest weakness of the Ituqattar; that they had to close to do the greatest amount of damage. In that moment of initial charge they were the most vulnerable. She brought a vast arrangement of cannons that could turn the fields of Rahen into a sea of impassable craters, and descended upon the vanguard of the Qašnitu invasion.

What followed was a battle that remains contested in the history books. Her strategy proved effective, slaying twice as many as she lost, but the steady ramping pressure of magical assault against her forces took its toll. As the main body of the Sarraka joined the fight, she withdrew in good order. Though she had inflicted heavy losses, she had also removed herself from the war for the next few months.

With the core of the Command's army removed from the field, the Ituqattar advanced and began delivering crushing defeats to ogre and orcish armies that took the field alongside smaller units of hobgoblins and Wuhyun. The slave warriors fought ferociously, but raw strength was not the sole determinant of victory in the age of massed cannon and massed magi.

In the first six months into the war, through the initial offensives from both sides, losses were estimated to approach seven hundred and fifty thousand. The scale of such a conflict defies belief even by the standards of modern warfare. Massed armies engaging in brutal direct clashes, facing artillery whether mundane, artificery, or magic, led to unprecedented casualties being inflicted in a very short span of time.

We're doing well on warscore, but it is meaningless as the only way to win this one is through occupation, not battles.

Much as Tanba Dragonborn had been caught out in the previous conflict, the Qašnitu commanders were overconfident after their initial victory and split their forces to siege the remaining forts barring the way to Sarilavhan. This was where Yuryan struck, her forces emerging from the foothills of the Tree of Stone to annihilate two entire Ituqattar divisions. Suddenly, the balance of forces had shifted.

She continued her offensive, launching a massed assault against Ituqattar in Rajnadhaga. This battle was much the inverse of the first major battle of the war, as the Qašnitu magi had adapted new strategies for countering the massed artillery that Yuryan preferred. Overlapping wards, counterbattery magic, and smaller Zamukaraš devoted to disrupting artillery units all contributed to a lopsided casualty rate in favour of Karqašlu. The Grand Marshal was heard to say that if she won another such victory, the war would be lost. Despite such trepidation, the victory granted her the space to launch her own assault on Rahen.

Despite our killing power, sheer numbers have a weight of their own.

The home front of Karqašlu was untouched by violence, but not by the secondary effects of the war. Families grieved, merchants struggled, and unrest simmered as the excess urban population displaced by mechanization was conscripted to work in logistics and fill other roles left open by the Ituqattar at war. However, guided by the Way of Jaddar, the Qašnitu were willing to accept this hardship and work together in the name of destroying a foe as tenacious and embroiled in Darkness as the Command.

As the Grand Marshal advanced, she kept her armies in position to mutually support one another, and for months they reversed the Qašnitu advances in Rahen while the Ituqattar looked on unable to see an opening to launch a counterattack of their own.

The solution was careful use of terrain. A key fort guarded one of the southern approaches in Rahen, forcing the Command and its allies to take a longer route through the Jungles of Dhujat and making it more difficult for them to reinforce their armies in the interior. By striking at the besieging forces and the more isolated forces in two decisive blows, the Grand Marshal would be forced to make an impossible choice. It seemed that she lost her nerve, as neither army was reinforced and seventy thousand troops were killed or routed for barely more than ten thousand Qašnitu casualties. This moment of weakness was the turning point of the war.

Avoiding giving the AI the opportunity to doomstack is a big help when outnumbered

Thousands of miles away from the war, the Akalunakli passed away. Her work to cleanse the Shadow Swamp was dangerous, and no matter how much food was imported from the outside there remained the risk of the Shadow Plane imbuing a meal with deadly poison. Some suggested that the hags were at work, though no evidence was found. Either way, her daughter resumed her work from a new base camp outside the bounds of the swamp, offering her magical support from her distance.

The gnollish inhabitants of the region had welcomed the Jadd with new fervour not seen since the original converts in the wake of Jaddar's victory in the Battle of the Sun's Providence. Having suffered at the machinations of the Shadow Pact for centuries, they took the lead in cleansing the Shadow Swamp, clearing pathways, draining marshes and ensuring that the magi and scientists of Karqašlu faced no further threats whiles stepping on the boundary to Darkness.

After the victories in Rahen, the Ituqattar did not lose their momentum. They breached the final layer of fortifications guarding the Shamakhad Plain and stormed Sarilavhan before the Command could reinforce it. This time, no cell went unopened, nor did any piece of Korashi remain unbroken. Those members of the War Room who did not flee or give their lives in the warcamp's defence were clapped in chains and shipped to a prison built into the walls of harpy roost in the Šad Siádan, to await their eventual trials.

The bonuses for hitting the Command's Korashi supply are repeatable.

Three years of war had passed, and the Command could be considered on the verge of breaking. With losses approaching one and a half million and barely a fifth of that remaining on the field, the Grand Marshal scrambled to rally the secondary Commands to present a solid front and strike back. However, even they were exhausted. Mercenaries were depleted and refused to join a losing war. Hobgoblin households had been decimated. The Wuhyun were beginning to facture and consider their own future. After three hundred years, the unbeatable was on the verge of being beaten.

The fall of Grônstunad, the heart of the Jade Mines, marked the beginning of the great eastwards pivot of the Qašnitu forces. The hold was deep, deeper than any the Ituqattar had tried to lay siege to before, and the goblins defending it were willing to concede it endlessly and leave the attackers to try and clear entire floors filled with traps. The Light would not reach this low, and the decision was made to let them retain the depths while keeping them bottled within the mountain, for the destruction of the Command proper was the greater purpose.

Those armies of the slave states still on the field fought an interminable and futile battle, but still they fought. Whatever loyalty the Command had instilled into them remained unbreakable, as they threw themselves against the gun and wards of the Ituqattar.

The Grand Marshal made her last play, assembling the most skilled survivors among those of the Dragon Command and forming them into a single powerful battery of cannon. Wielding the best of the best, she won a surprise victory over a larger force and began the work of retaking Xianjie.

It was already too late, as the most elite soldiers of Karqašlu did not break their stride as they continued to push eastwards down the Yan River into Yanshen. A few armies were diverted from local defence to contain the Grand Marshal's effort, but she had been demoted to a sideshow to the work of bringing the entirety of Haless under control.

She was met by two fresh Ituqattar divisions, recruited and trained following the two she had destroyed at the start of the war, as she attempted to cross the Kharunyana. The majority of her artillery were lost to the swell of the river, the Great Spirit washing them from the shore in passing, as if seeking revenge for the actions of the Command and their Oni subjects. Yuryan fled into the Bomdan Jungles, assembling whatever she could in sheer desperation.

Any sense of order in the Command had shattered, and while the other Marshals launched an attempt to retake Sarilavhan it became a disaster as the members of the different Commands blamed one another for the state of the war and refused to cooperate. Dozens of individual armies roamed Shamakhad, a triviality for the Ituqattar to corral and destroy.

The Sarraka returned from Yanshen to hunt down the Grand Marshal, who was once again attempt to cross the river into Rahen Proper. This time, she did not escape. Her army was surrounded and she was enchanted into surrender before she could give the order for a final suicidal charge at the Qašnitu lines. She joined thousands of other captured officers, all awaiting a reckoning for their relentless Dark drive for destruction.

With no more organised resistance, the war became a matter of rooting out every place that the Command, whether the central government or any of the subsidiary Commands, could hide and organise its forces. Six years after the start of the war, Qašnitu forces marched into Tianlou and looked upon the Ocean of the Lost. The city welcomed them with a celebration heralding Karqašlu as the western children of the Great Spirit Yanhe, as a region based so heavily around a river as Yanshen was. Much of Yanshen was thoroughly Wuhyunized, but the eastern coast had resisted for the longest and still clung to their dreams of independence.

Four more years passed, with Ituqattar divisions patrolling the countryside and eliminating any rogue bands of Command loyalists that appeared. They would not rest until the last of the commanding officers under the Grand Marshal were captured, and every administrative vestige of the Great Command was annihilated.

In distant lands stolen from Daengun, the remaining Marshals of the command made their final stand. They were cut off from their fleet, and any hope of retreat, though there were previous few places on Halann that would take refugees from the Command. Even Karqašlu's rivals held that the Command was too great a threat to remain intact. Those who could be captured alive were, while those who could not fought to the death so that they might die with their dream of a regimented world.

Across Haless, the Ituqattar worked to undo the work of centuries. Warcamps were destroyed, the Command bureaucracy was uprooted, weapons were seized and every scrap of Korashi that could be found was annihilated. Even that would not be enough to see all the damage undone, as millions of humans, harimari and half-orcs had been raised in the brutal and unrelenting culture of the Command, and would not be swiftly brought to their senses. To restore them would be a project of decades, maybe even centuries.

The wargoal means that they will never surrender unless completely occupied. It was a huge pain to get every last province, especially as for most of the war there were still roaming stacks that were too strong for me to split my armies too much.

And so, the war was declared to be at an end. The Ituqattar, long away from home, were ordered to return, and preparations were made to bring punishment onto those who truly deserved it. Haless had burned, millions had perished, and there would inevitably be millions more dead as the aftershock of the fall of the Command reverberated across the continent.

In Sarilavhan, in a building erected atop the hill that had once been the fortified warcamp at the heart of a machine of endless war, the trials of the Grand Marshal and thousands of other captured officers took place. There was little leniency to be found, as not just their crimes but the crimes of the Command dating back to 1444 and earlier were all pinned upon the final generation of their leadership. With representatives from the remaining surviving nations of Haless in attendance, as well as countless others from those lost nations seeking to rebuild themselves, Yuryan Lionborn was executed with the power of the Light of Surael itself. An era had ended.

But a new era had begun, one that did not herald peace. With the withdrawal of Qašnitu armies from Haless, warlords immediately sprung from the ashes of the Command. Yanshen quickly fell under the control of a unified Dragon Command, which had seen the least devastation and had the most time to prepare hidden safehouses and weapons caches for this situation. The goblins of the Jade March and the ogres of Azjakuma emerged from the mountains they had been hiding in and res-established control of their territories. Haless' great enemy had been vanquished, but the power vacuum would be almost as destructive.

Baihon Xinh, the only surviving truly independent nation in Haless, was in no position to take advantage of the chaos. Its population had been ravaged by repeated wars with the Command, and the Rending continued to take its toll even as they worked to restore the High Temples and bring it to an end. Meanwhile, Kalsyto looked upon the disaster and began drafting plans to bring freedom and personal armament to the commonfolk of Haless.

The event pops out all the subsidiary Commands, which you won't have a truce with so you are free to immediately jump on them. The four slave states get a little bit more of a reprieve from us with a full 15-year truce.

Eyes began looking eastwards towards Haless, seeking the wealth that had been held in chains for so long, or at the very least denying it from a victorious Karqašlu. The Mengi nation had been united under Fetengoni, now Melakmengi. While carefully watching their border with Karqašlu, they plotted to extend their influence across the Gulf of Rahen and establish the Sarhali as the rulers of the east. The Baashidi states to their south, famed centres of philosophy, struggled to maintain their independence in a changing world, but with the aid of the merfolk that plied their waters they held a firm grip upon their peninsula.

Scientific development continued apace in Rayaz, as the spire in the city of Zerat was seen alight with energy. In their efforts to claim the 333^rd Empire, the lizardfolk had taken their first steps into something far greater, and as part of that they prepared to seek out the other secrets that lay deep beneath the jungles of Sarhal, Haless, and even closed-off Insyaa. As the centre of scientific progress on Halann, the following century would be defined by their actions.

The Fahvanosy Federation had established itself as one of the greatest naval powers in the world between its four constituent states. Though they did not seek to conquer, their traders plied the route around the continent and bypassed Golden Highway, giving them an inordinate amount of wealth and influence that began to be leveraged into real power as they sought new customers and new goods to sell, as well as the spread of the Ravelian faith that had caught on among the halfling population.

Western Sarhal was still marred by Cannor's attempts at colonialism, but with the defeat of Busilar came the opportunity for them to claim a place in the world. However, they were unaware of the coming danger beneath their feet, that would threaten to upend everything they had built.

The Mengi managed to unify in the one month between me ending the Command war and ending the campaign. Fahvanosy being Ravelian is a surprise. It is meant to spread around a lot canonically, but you don't usually see entire nations outside Cannor convert.

Through the relentless growth of the jungle, an entire continent seemed lost to the world. The unified Kheionai under Theínós were the sole remaining bastion of traditional civilization, as Taychend fell into anarchy as it was steadily consumed. Faced with an entity as voracious as the Effelai, people began to wonder whether it could be communicated with, or if it would require the efforts of the world to see it burned to the roots.

The spectacular collapse of Ebenmas, and then shortly afterwards the Ynnic Empire that attempted to rule over it, marked the beginning of an all-out land grab in North Aelantir. The Trollsbay Concord advanced from the south, Lorentish armies advanced from the north, and Arakeprun, now the strongest of the Eordan Ruinborn, advanced from the west. Having taken advantage of the vast Precusor knowledgebase buried in Eordand, they were now the closet to unifying the region and forming a new major power in Aelantir. However, they remained in a tense but peaceful relationship with their cousins who had emerged through the Domandrod portal and held the interior of the great forest. They would need to find a balance between strength and friendship, or a war might break out among the trees.

Zanlib and Saamiršes, both members of the Concord, both considered themselves the true followers of the Light of Surael in Aelantir, though they followed different rites. Both republics had a significant portion of their population that held to the way of Jaddar, which led to intense suspicion of an effort to see them subdued by the great monarchy to the distant east, but Karqašlu only sought rapprochement and cooperation, as the Accord held little interest in distant adventures.

Cannor remained stagnant as the world shifted around it. The Empire of Anbennar rotted from within, seized by Ravelian zealots. Rogeria and Marrhold sparred for the future of Escann, blind to the world around them. Lorent continued to struggle under the opposition of its neighbours, while failing to rein in its rebellious periphery. Though it had taken advantage of the chaos in the Ynn to expand its colonial holdings, and still held many others besides, those had not afforded it any advantage within Cannor.

To the north, Grombar grew in strength, having refused to embrace a future of half-orcs and instead relying on strict caste system divided between orcish rulers and human servants. Though it was growing in power, its eastern border with Kalsyto presented an enormous strategic problem, while its population grew more restless as liberal ideologies began to permeate the continent.

However, all the powers rising and falling across the world, did nothing to assail Karqašlu's position as the greatest economic power in the world. With Rahen's liberation came the unlocking of vast resources once lost to the Command, while mechanization of endless fields of the Suran and Mother's Sorrow took food production up to nearly a third of the world's output, freeing up millions to enter the cities and find new industries and make new discoveries. Though its rivals remained right on its heels, so long as the Qašnitu people remained innovative and free, their position in the heart of Halann with mighty rivers and Surael's unending Light would make them unbeatable.

Standing as the greatest nation in the world, Karqašlu had achieved the dream of Kar Alušir, if not in the way that he had imagined. Standing as an example of a unified, peaceful and prosperous nation, none could deny that it embodied the Light, and through its generous liberation of Sarhal and Rahen it had demonstrated that it had none of the apocalyptic ambition that resided within the silver helm. As the world turned, as science and artifice grew to challenge magic, and as new opportunities emerged to spread gardening and Light, Karqašlu would stand ready to meet them.

To be concluded…

Thank you to all my readers! I will be posting the preliminary vote for the next campaign shortly, the epilogue sometime before the close of the preliminary vote.

 

[Sybot]

Monsters of the Serpentspine

The status of 'monster' is one that can only be applied from outside, never from within, though some take pride in such labels. Monsters have built great monuments, forged mighty empires, and assembled armies of unprecedented discipline. What actually defines them as such is their non-adherence to the diplomatic and cultural standards of the nations around them, be that in Cannor, Bulwar or Haless.

It was during the reign of Castan II Beastbane that an official definition of monstrousness was established. During the First Pantheonic Council that canonized the Regent Court, the Emperor of Castanor pushed to have races that did not fit into his ideal of civilization labelled as the Spawn of Agrados, irredeemable beasts that were to be purged wherever they were found. Under his rule millions of centaurs, satyrs, harpies and gnolls were slaughtered across Cannor and Bulwar, and two millennia of purges and expulsions followed.

His arguments held some merit, hence their near-universal adoption among the settled and civilized societies of Halann. Slavery, devouring captives, abduction for breeding and countless more atrocities were common across the polities formed from the monstrous races. Yet, as with the examples of the P'ezarangi Harpies and the Goldscale Kobolds, there were those that demonstrated that they could form civilized societies and live amongst those they had once warred with. It ought to be clear that it was their environment, and not their nature, that lead them to such extremes.

Which brings us to the deepest depths of the Serpentspine, the Dwarovar, the great mountain range that splits the world and once hosted the Aul-Dwarov, who considered themselves equals to the full might of the Precursor Empire. It was during their clash that monsters claimed the mountains. From deep within Hul-Jorkad, an innumerable host of orcs emerged, brutal warriors who could camouflage themselves and had no deeper desire than to destroy the Aul-Dwarov. One by one the holds fell or barred their gates, and the tunnels were turned over to endless bloody warfare.

In such an environment, trapped in dark and confined tunnels with limited resources, it was inevitable that base violence and atrocity would be become the currency of the land. Orcish and goblin clans fell into an endless spiral of conflict that left no room for development or progress. It was not until the rise of Korgus Dookanson that there was an upheaval great enough for change to come for monsters.

His departure into Escann, bringing the vast majority of orcs and goblins with him, left a void in the once tightly-packed tunnels of the Serpentspine, one where clans with different outlooks could find room to breathe and forge their own destinies. With the remnant holds massing behind their gates and reclaimers beginning to ply the tunnels, the monsters will have to learn quickly, prepare themselves for the upheaval to come, and then demonstrate to the world that there is more to them than beasts of the darkness to be slain.

What form will that take, though? Will they seek to emulate the civilized powers of the world, will they form societies of strength and honour, or will something stranger and more unique come from these peoples, who have long been derided and hunted, as they step into the light for the first time?

Options

Notable monster exclusions include Escanni orcs, the Command and Azjakuma, and harpies, all of whom have been options before. The Emerald Orcs are excluded due similarity to Eordand. Other than those I think all monsters in and around the Serpentspine are covered.

A - Snotfinger – Goblins
Rurnor Snotfinger, an insult warrior of great renown, humiliated his orcish oppressors and fled from their slavery deeper into the Serpentspine, forming the Snotfinger Clan. Now that the Greentide has departed and been defeated, his loyal followers are ready to emerge once more and end orcish oppression across the Serpentspine, powered by an endless supply of new and exciting drugs.
B - Railskulker – Goblins
For centuries the Railskulkers have travelled the long-ruined railways of the Serpentspine, seeking a home. With the emptying of the mountains of orcs, they finally found an opportunity to claim a home of their own, settling in Er-Natvir, the Railyard. With access to long-decrepit technology of the Aul-Dwarov, zooming from one end of the mountains to another is no longer just a dream.
C - Mountainshark – Goblins
It is a tale like many others. Glozark, the Great Shark, freed his clan from orcish oppression through cunning and brutality. However, unlike all those others who merely pretend to offer freedom to the common goblin while they become oppressors anew, his dream will see democracy and liberty spread among the disparate clans.
D - Truedagger – Goblins
Goblins are small and weak, perhaps one of the individually weakest races in all Halann. However, they make up for that with sheer cunning. None embody this more than the Truedagger Clan, who have refined subterfuge and assassination to an art, one that might see them slip a knife into the back of even the strongest of great conquerors.
E - Spiderwretch – Goblins
Dwelling in the spider-infested caverns far from any former dwarven hold, the Spiderwretch clan make the best of their situation by taming the arachnids and riding them into battle as mighty mounts. Beyond the walls of the mountains, great plains beckon with new enemies and new allies alike to plunder and trade with to fuel their claim to the rest of the underground.
Note that all of the above will aim to form the All-Clan
F - Chaingrasper – Goblins/Undead
It was only in recent years that Ovdal-az-Ân fell to a horde of goblin clans, who soon set to squabbling amongst one another. This came to end in the Week of Stabbings, when the brilliant young mage Dak Chaingrasper wielded hexes and enchantments to drive the other clanbosses to fall upon one another and leave Clan Chaingrasper ruling over it all. Dak knows that his power is all that keeps this unity from shattering and he is a mere mortal goblin. Thus, he seeks the one thing that will guarantee the stability of the burgeoning nation – immortality.
G - Overclan – Goblins
Dookanson's hold on the vast numbers of goblin clans was frail, reliant solely on pure orcish might. As he led his forces into Escann, the clans on the southern fringe of his control fled, passing through the Serpentreach and emerging into Bahar. The realms of the surface were already ravaged by famine and civil war, and the Goblin Exodus became their breaking point. Though the clans have divided, they remain the dominant power in Bahar, ready to found the first true goblin nation upon the surface.
(The options for the final vote will be Marblehead, Landshark, Mountainhugger, Greysheep)
(Note that this might be a shorter campaign, as there is currently no Overclan MT)
H - Underkingdom – Goblins
The Tree of Stone is steeped in history. Believed to be the birthplace of dwarfkind, where Halanna herself carved them from stone, it is the most ancient region of the Serpentspine, though mostly abandoned. The goblin clans who still dwell here peer out at the likewise ancient land of Rahen and wonder if they can emulate such opulence, forging a kingdom spanning beneath the world and reaching above to claim the titles of the Raja of the surface.
(The options for the final vote will be Dirtwater, Ambersniffer, Poisoned Rock)
(Note that this might be a shorter campaign, as the Underkingdom MT is still in development)
I – Maghargma - Ogres
Long ago, much of Halann was ruled by the giants and their servants, the Giantkin. When their rule was cast down by the draconic alliance, the last giants disappeared, their fate unknown. Or perhaps, the last of their kind were brought low by their own servants. Ogres, in their insatiable hunger, might have consumed their own progenitors. They are scattered into enclaves across Halann, each seeking its own answer to the problem of their hunger. Of these, the Fathide Ogres of the Ogre Valley intend to forge a civilized empire that will reunify the Giantkin and build institutions that keep their own relentless appetite in check.
J - Skurkokli – Ogres
Not all ogres believe that their hunger is something to be abhorred and managed. They achieved their stature and power by the consumption of the giants, they gain the strength and wisdom of the foes that they consume, and the world is vast and plentiful. The Frosthide Ogres strain against Maghargma chains, ready to burst free and begin devouring all that they see before them. Centaurs, humans, orcs, elves, nothing will stand in their way, until one day they might reach up, pull the gods themselves from their thrones and devour them as well.
K - Mire Maw – Ogres
The Serpent's Vale, a fertile valley that separates the ancient dwarven capital in Kingsrock from the rest of the Serpentspine, was once the breadbasket of Aul-Dwarov. After its collapse the irrigation systems fell into disrepair, transforming the vale into an inhospitable swamp. But not for the Mossmouth Ogres. They trudge through the marsh, enjoying the bounty it has to offer in food, rare herbs and poisons, living a peaceful life with sated hunger. The arrival of goblins fleeing orcish slavery has woken them up to the changing world, one where the must defend their swamp lest it be overrun by invaders.
L - Skewered Drake – Orcs
The Hold of Gor Vazumbrog held firm against the darkness until a purple dragon burst forth from the depths of the hold, leaving choking poisons and magical fallout in its wake. The hold came under the rule of orcish clans who discovered the drakon, vicious flightless lizards birthed from the toxic malaise, and took them as companions and mounts. Together, they will ride forth and carve a draconic kingdom into the mountains and the lands below.
M - Shattered Crown – Orcs
When the lost Kronium Crown, the unadorned base of the Dwarovkron, was found at the bottom of a deep pile of loot held by an unassuming minor orcish clan it changed everything. The orc who retrieved it was granted a vision that one day the dwarves would return to reclaim their homeland. Fuelled by this vision, the Shattered Crown clan united countless disparate groups for two great purposes: to see their promised homeland within the Serpentspine preserved from those they had rightfully won it from, and to uncover the truth about their history so that they might rescue Dookan from his captivity at last.
O - Masked Butcher – Orcs
It is said that something lurks in the darkness of the caverns, a monster that is less of an orcish warrior and more of a creature of nightmares. Clad in the flesh of its victims, savage and yet cunning, the Masked Butcher steals away life and retreats into the night. Deep, darker, under a crimson light, they have found true power. Oh, god-begot, god-begot…
P - Roadwarrior – Orcs
Among those who remained in the Serpentspine instead of following Dookanson, none hold tighter to their freedom than the Roadwarrior clan. Revering the endless tunnels of the Dwarovar rail network as a holy land, their great convoy travels its length slaughtering any who dare defile it with their presence. As the convoy grows, so do does their ambition. An empty wasteland, an endless expanse of empty land where an orc might only find plunder and glorious battle from one end of Halann to the other.
(Note that this will be a shorter campaign)
Q - Karakhanbar – Orcs
When the Greentide swept out of the Serpentspine, some clans found themselves trapped in the Deepwoods by the Verdant Veil. Though Corin shattered the Veil, they had since settled in a rhythm of endless war with the local goblins and elves. Some clans have turned to the fey for aid, while others spurn and war with the masters of the forest. For those that have made enemies of the Feyrealm there is only one choice; to keep chopping and burning to fuel a war machine that will never fall under the sway of another ever again.
(Though any Deepwoods orc can form Karakhanbar, only Sapchopper currently has an MT so there will be no options on this vote)

Western/Northern Options

Southern/Eastern Options

Vote for up to five options by clicking on the image below. The resulting top five will be included in the final poll.



Voting will be open for two weeks

 

[Steckie]

Railskulker is my number 1, let's see some machinists conquering everything and perhaps even make the trains run on time.

 

[jak7139]

She had faith in the works of the magi and artificers together, regularly maintaining the master helm and producing more helms for the network so that the dream would never fade. Was that faith enough?

Sometimes all we have is faith and hope. Let's hope it is enough.

In the first six months into the war, through the initial offensives from both sides, losses were estimated to approach seven hundred and fifty thousand.

Dang!

Thank you for another fun campaign!

 

[Sybot]

Epilogue: In Light of Trust

Above the Planar Rift, Ocean of the Lost, 2024 AA?

Surael shone his Light upon Kar Alušir and gave His blessing to this great endeavour. The baking heat did not bother the Emperor Evermore, nor did the chill wind from standing at the peak of the greatest sky chariot yet produced by the Eternal Empire of Karqašlu. The vast chevon-shaped construction, made of the finest materials mined from the deepest depths of the Serpentspine, was so large that it eclipsed the horizon itself, the distant corners carrying on for dozens of miles. Upon every square foot of the expanse of the sky chariot was stood a member of the Ituqattar, packed together in their unflinching loyalty to their ruler.

Alušir flexed the wings of his body and resisted the temptation to fly out to meet the dragons that were towing the sky chariot. Bronze, Gold, Brass, Red, Blue, Green, all of them had knelt when faced with his tremendous power, and now they served as the mightiest draft animals on all of Halann. Massive helms had been crafted by the most skilled of the indentured artificers so that the beasts could join the vast network that would power this most important mission.

"Mighty warriors of Karqašlu!" he projected, the song of the Akali reaching through the air to the most distant of his Ituqattar.

Humans, elves, gnolls, harpies, dwarves, trolls, orcs, lizards, harimari, ogre, and even the mechanim of enlightened Insyaa, all turned their heads towards him as they heeded his words.

"For centuries we have fought and struggled against the oppression of the ocean! We have weathered the Second Onslaught, and the Third, and the Fourth, and the Fifth, and each time we seized more of the coastline and delivered crushing blows ever deeper into their domain."

As he spoke, he began to channel his spell. Below the great chevronic chariot, the ocean roiled with rage. His scrying had revealed the location of the source of ultimate Darkness, the Planar Rift leading to the Plane of Water. The foul deep devils had crawled from this domain, nothing but beasts who knew nothing of the world of Light, and in their rage had devastated the First Empire. Now he was ready to deliver a blow that would end their threat once and for all, while granting all of Halann the generous boon of unlimited land to seize and develop.

"Focus your minds and bodies as you have been trained, and look to Surael's guidance. Our final victory is at hand. Avenge Karqašlu! All for Karqašlu!"

The echoing cries returned to him, and he grinned with ecstasy. All the eyes of the Ituqattar turned skyward, the sheer magical force of their attention driving the clouds form the sky and casting aside any chance that weather might stop their mission. As they worked, computing the intricacies that Kar Alušir had no need to manage himself, their eyes began to scorch as they stared unblinking at Surael's magnificence. None flinched away.

High in the sky, a roaring tempest of wind spiralled ever higher, carrying with it perfectly aligned droplets of water. The sky chariot shook, the dragons struggling against the torrent of air and water being ripped away. A flicker signalled the start of true alignment, light marking a lensing effect the size of a continent, all the air of a quarter of the world turned towards a single goal. Kar Alušir felt his lungs burn as every last breath was ripped away. However, he had enhanced this body beyond any mortal imagining and could survive hours without air. All the others would make the ultimate sacrifice in the name of final peace.

"Let Light descend!" Kar Alušir cried, arms and wings spread wide as the spell unleashed.

A beam of light miles wide tore through the sky and blinded all who looked directly at it, while piercing the ocean with a roar that deafened all who heard it. Steam billowed in unimaginable quantities, engulfing the entire surface of the Ocean of the Lost in a blanket of death, and through his mind's eyes Kar Alušir watched as the beam passed through the Planar Rift and began to unleash unending destruction upon its inhabitants. It would take hours yet to completely annihilate all who dwelled within, and the world's water level would drop by hundreds of feet as the devastated Plane was refilled. Then he would seal it shut, and nothing more would stand against Karqašlu.

His empire already stood astride the world. All the rest of the mortals would swear fealty to him, and then he could bring his enlightened rule and Surael's Light to the rest of existence. To the Planes, to the Astral, and whatever lay beyond. Everything would be his.

His head tipped back and he began to laugh.

And he began to laugh.

He began to laugh.

To laugh.

The Ituqattar, all blind and deaf and scalded from head to toe, laughed with him. The chorus of laughter continued and echoed again and again, caught in a loop of repetitive action. Against the backdrop of a burning sky and scorching ocean, the thoughts of Kar Alušir spiralled away from sentience into nothing but mad flashes of triumph and desire.

Garden of the Akali, Akalate of Utur Karqašlu, Illumine Accord, 2024 AA

"He is gone," Aruhana said. She opened her eyes and lifted the master helm from her head.

The crowd of attendants before shifted and gasped and her declaration. Within moments a pair of artificers strode forward and took the master helm out of her hands to analyse. The Accord had a multitude of plans to deal with the magical power contained within the helm, now lacking a mind to potentially hijack it. This had been a long time coming, but Aruhana had not known the exact date or time that would mark the end of her family's long watch. For years she had feared it would not happen in her lifetime. But now she was free.

She wrapped her arms and wings around herself and took in the sight, scent and sensation of freedom. Her throne was placed in an indoor garden, a style standard to buildings across the Accord. Filled with delicately sculpted trees that shook in the light wind that was granted entry to the chamber, rows and columns of ever-blooming flowers that painted images of joy and love, and immaculate sculptures carved in styles from all the corners of Halann, it was her place of respite.

"My Akali, is everything okay?" asked Zarin.
The attendant rushed to Aruhana's side, the jewellery adorning her wings and dress jingling as she approached. With great care she ran her fingers through Aruhana's feathers, a soothing sensation that had seen much use in the tensest of diplomatic debates.

And that was what her role would be from now on. While the Akali wielded nothing more than ceremonial power, words still held power over the world. Her family had been trained for centuries in the art of speaking and convincing other, and it was a duty that she was not going to give up. Perhaps her clutch, if she deigned to lay them, would be lifted from this duty as well and her role would be folded away entirely.

"I am well," Aruhana said, reaching out from under the wall of feathers to lay a hand on her wrist, "but I would like to have some time to myself."

The younger harpy nodded and stood, letting the Akali stand and set down the heavier bracelets and necklaces that she wore. Zarin fidgeted as Aruhana walked towards one of the great vaulted windows that surrounded the indoor garden. Into the window was placed a doorway that led out onto a perch, just large enough for a single harpy to step through and out. Which is exactly what Aruhana did.

Stood on a perch a thousand feet in the air, the heights of the royal roost-spire still rising above her, she looked outwards. Around her, Utur Karqašlu sprawled.

Perhaps 'sprawled' was not quite the right verb, but there was no denying the nature of the land she protected. Utur Karqašlu was nothing less than a city the size of a subcontinent. Along the length of the Suran and Brunan and all of their many tributaries, high into the hills of her ancestors, and all along the coast up to and in some cases crossing the borders of the Surata and Baharkand Republics, the city was ever-present.

Though some might not even call it a city. As far as the eye could see, the ground level was covered in greenery, only occasionally broken up by low level buildings that did not reach the great heights of the roost-spires that dotted the landscape. Parkland, farms, and wild reserves covered the open areas of the city. After all, with such a great a bounty as the rivers and Surael provided, it would be shame to see it paved over. Though more than a billion people dwelled in the great green city, they were entirely self-sufficient in terms of food.

The roost-spires were where the citizenry dwelled. They started as a concession towards the new harpy dynasty of mediaeval Karqašlu, but as populations soared and both technology and magic developed alongside them, it was determined that they were the optimal way to live. Soaring thousands of feet into the air, fed by endless conveyors of artificer technology, and ornamented by a population with the means and free time to devote their lives to vast works of art and culture. In some places, primarily the sites of the oldest cities in the nation, they were highly clustered so a dozen might stand next to each other, while elsewhere they were found individually or in pairs. From their peaks, one could see as far as the Serpentspine Mountains, or down to the clear blue waters of the Divenhal. Each spire had many gardens akin to her own. Entire floors were given over to greenery, and while it could not be as intense as that which flourished from the soils below a great deal of care was placed into ensuring that even citizens who never left their roost-spire could get a taste of tranquillity.

Here, where the museums and archives of the old palaces of Panu Karqašlu lay in the flourishing landscape below, there was the largest single concentration of such abodes. Aruhana watched as a vivid mural slowly came into existence on the roost-spire across from her own. A team of thousands of artists stood upon a great ever-adjusting floating platform each contributed their own small piece towards painting both the war and peace negotiations with the Lava Sultanate. From the planar breach created by the Dendugma Volcano, roaring reds tearing through tender greens, to the great standoff and negotiation in the heart of the Salahad led by Aakhet and blessed by Kuršagal, painted in scattering yellows marked out with sharp points of silver and bronze. The façade of plain stone, built over the sturdier materials that made up the rest of the tower, was becoming a real treasure. The return of the genies was an important lesson for her, but she had much to do before she could even consider that thought.

Without another thought she stepped forward off the perch and took flight, soaring into the air currents that formed around the towers. The air was already filled with commuters travelling to their places of work or play, whatever it might be. It was not only harpies who had the means to take to the sky, a necessity when one's travel was inevitably far more vertical than horizontal. Magical strength remained a variable factor for people, but through the effort of the artificers and magi modern flying platforms only needed the slightest touch of mana to control.

She dove and weaved through the crowded airspace, enjoying the moment as she passed by thousands of travellers who held no idea of her identity without the presence of the master helm. There was purpose to her flight, as she had a specific goal in mind.

A roost-spire stood tall ahead of her, painted with a spiralling array of enormous animals that glimmered in blue as the Light shone upon it. It served as a home for those the Raheni and Halessi members of the Accord, as well as ambassadors from the fractious lands beyond the bounds of Surael's Gardens. Choosing her landing spot, she found no trouble in grabbing onto a perch much like the one she had left, leading through the glass partition into another beautiful garden that was adorned with a rocky landscape and an array of plants that found purchase among the stones.

As she stepped inside, shaking off the cold air of the outside for the basking warmth within, she was approached by two orcs in thick robes, their faces nearly completely covered by their cowls.

"The Wulin has been expecting you," one said, "he has sensed the shift in the Chi of the city."

The Akali nodded, and followed them to their master. The Wulin of the Xia was a regular visitor, spending perhaps as much time in Utur Karqašlu as he did in his wartorn homeland. He claimed that it was to balance the serenity of the gardens with the chaos that he dealt with as he worked to revive the ancient warrior orders in one of the most unstable regions of Halann.

"You come for advice on how to make use of your freedom?" was the first question that he asked.

The Wulin was a weathered orc, his brown skin taut and scarred by conflict. Unlike the monks, he was close to nude, sat up to his chest a pool atop the highest set of rocks in the garden. The water slowly filtered past him, down a stream, before ending up in the spire's drainage. It was not something that Aruhana would consider comfortable, but perhaps comfort was not the purpose.

"Not just advice, but shared wisdom," she said, bowing to him from a perch atop a rock that overlooked the garden. If not for the view from the towering windows, she could imagine she was in the heights of a Xianjie monastery. She continued, "I know that your lands are in flux. The Jade Empire and the Dragon Command continue to vie for control of Xianjie, and your brethren in Bloodsong and Thunderfist still refuse to seek reconciliation while the southern nations squabble amongst themselves. I wish to compare our thoughts and ideas to solve both of our problems."

"Besides thoughts and ideas, could you offer us the armies of the Illumine," the orc said, opening one eye to peer at her.

"That is not mine to offer," she replied, "though the Accord might listen to me, we have sworn to only fight when necessary."

"Then how will you stop the march of relentless armies?" the Wulin asked.

"That is precisely what I need to understand," she said, "for if I can halt the Dragon Command in their tracks with my words, then there are other, far stranger armies that I might be able to speak to."

That caught his attention. He opened both his eyes and turned to face her.

"You have ambition," he said, "but you will need to learn. Read on the ways of war and peace, write on the histories of the world and how such things came about, and then come face-to-face with the monsters that you wish to tame."

"Of course," she said, bowing her head, "Surael will guide me. As long as I stay in the Light, I can win the War on Halann without taking a single life."

Foot of the Kuiika Gamyi, Gamyi City, Fahvanosy Federation, 2026 AA

The relentless flash of blue lights was near overwhelming, but Rafohy bore it with a smile and a wave. Viewcatchers and Rollviewcatchers flickered constantly as journalists from across the world got their piece of flesh. No doubt the Triunics would call this a triumph of tyranny, the life-entangled elves would call it a gross overuse of technology and the postcolonial states of Cannor and Haless a sign of Sarhal's intention to unify against them. Very few would see it for it what it truly was. An end to centuries of bloodshed.

She held Kroshk's hand in hers, shaking it for what felt like minutes as the flickers of capturing images and video continued. His clawtips were blunted, but still dug into her skin, but it would not do to loosen either of their grip with so many eyes on them. Finally, she got a signal from one of her team, and let go to step onto the podium.

Ahead of her was a sea of face from across Halann, and behind them were an assembled crowd of thousands of halflings, humans, and lizardfolk, both locals and visitors to witness this moment. The city of Gamyi spread out from the edges of the plaza, adorned with the rainbow weaves of the Federation and the blue spirals of the Empire. It was far more of a halfling city, densely packed with squat warren-like buildings and filled with the scent of well-baked food. The distant Lake Kuiziva glimmered, filled with the masts of pleasure boats.

Behind her was the cause of both the war and the peace. The Kuiika Gamyi loomed, an obelisk in black and gold and nearly seven hundred feet tall. They were not stood exactly at its foot, as the actual base of the obelisk had been given over to a massive railyard, with dozens of rail lines converging and terminating at a single point below the massive tower. It was through the ingenuity and effort of both sides that this system had been established, learning from the Empire's mistakes with its other similar endeavours.

"To all the people of the Fahvanosy Federation and the 333^rd Empire," she began, her voice amplified by the Echo Stones built into the podium, "for centuries we have struggled for control over the Kuiika Gamyi, sacrificing the lives of far too many of our kin for what many believed to be no more than a religious icon."

She turned to give Kroshk a firm nod.

"It has only been in the last hundred years that the honoured scientists and artificers of Khatalaysha have delved into the secrets of the pillars and begun to explore beyond the bounds of this world. I am sure many of you know of the joys of Romutha and Shagatan, but also of the wars on Agradent and the tragedy of Ashazual. This is not a project that one can walk into with eyes closed, and so we have agreed that their expertise will aid us in our own efforts, and they will join us as they take a step into whatever lies beyond,"

Kroshk stepped up to the podium. Compared to her finely tailored suit, he was dressed in loose wrapping and intricate body paint over his scales. For the lizardfolk, who cared little for the touch of the elements, it made sense, but it still marked the stark social differences that divided the Federation and Empire from one another. Perhaps in time and with further cooperation that would change, or perhaps they would coexist in their own unique ways.

"By the grace of the Thraxis," he said, his voice rumbling as he spoke Sarhali Common with a thick accent, "we have found the route to another place of hope. Another place where we might find answers. We do not need to seek them alone. In friendship and cooperation, the 333^rd Empire will remain the Final Empire."

The crowd erupted into applause, as another round of viewcatching took place. Questions rose from the journalists, but the security team kept them firmly at bay. An official document would be released later in the day and propagated around the Runenet. She stepped down from the podium, ignoring the noise and commotion, and walked over to the fence blocking the drop down to the railyard below the plaza. Though normally it would be sized for a halfling, with so many taller folk in attendance, it now towered over her so ever the tallest person would not trip and fall a hundred feet onto the lines.

"Do you feel the touch of the divine upon our meeting, Madam Face?" Kroshk asked, standing beside her.

"As much as God has spoken of the need for rational cooperation through His Fragment, yes, Foreign Minister," she replied, answering title for title. As the Face of the Federal Council she had the duty of events such as these. "Does the Emperor see this as holy cooperation?"

"The Prophecy calls for the Final Empire to hold all of the pillars," he replied, "which is the source of our many conflicts as you well know. However, our struggles have taught us that there is much about the planes of existence that we do not know. To draw on the knowledge of others, and delve into the pillars together as friends will satisfy the Prophecy and may even be key to achieving it."

Their moment was interrupted by claws clicking against the stone of the plaza, and the voice of an unexpected guest.

"Blessings of the Light upon you, Madam Face, Foreign Minister," said Akali Aruhana, approaching them with her own small entourage. It was strange to see her so lightly adorned, lacking the helm that gave her dynasty so much magical power and wearing a simple blouse and skirt that were a deep cream and blue matching her skin and feathers.

"Please call me Rafohy, my Lady," Rafohy said, "and I am sure Kroshk has no issue with informal address either."

The lizardman rumbled out an affirmative. The harpy monarch turned to him first and bowed, a surprising gesture considering their relative titles.

"I have interesting news for the Emperor's eyes," Aruhana said, "before I departed, the four Bittu of the Illumine Accord held a vote regarding declassifying discoveries made in the cleansing of the Shaded Grove. Having seen this-" she extended her arms and spun in place, highlighting the grand cooperation all around her "-there is no longer a reason to hold secrets in the Darkness."

"You are speaking with too few specifics," Kroshk said, "I trust you have more than just words."

"Of course," Aruhana said, motioning for an aid to hand over a cobalt glass slate that flickered with text. Kroshk took it and ran his claw over it, scrolling through the data magically encoded within the glass.

"So, the Accord wishes to step out of isolation and get involved in this initiative?" Rafohy asked.

"There is a lot that we wish to get involved in," Aruhana replied. She smiled as though she wasn't discussing geopolitics so casually. "Though, before our teams get into the fine details, I did want to ask you both about the Cannor and Haless situations."

"Our continued presence in Cannor has been requested by both the common halflings of the Small Country, and at the request of our allies in Ravelian Anbennar," Rafohy said, "it has been decades since we withdrew from the Lorentish occupation."

"And yet they are still fraught with their own conflicts," Aruhana said, "with Ravelian zealots, Adeanic and Corinite loyalists, and plain nationalists all fighting among themselves."

"You and I both know that would be seen as further colonialism," Rafohy replied, "the Federation has renounced such things."

"Then what is the right thing to do?" Aruhana pondered, "the Accord stood by while so many lives were lost because we feared a repeat of the Great War."

"And then was drawn into the Breach War anyway," Kroshk snorted. He had handed back the slate, and had a pensive look on his face. "The Great Spirit Lupulan consents to our protection of his rainforest, and under our rule the damage done by the previous occupiers has been reversed. With the guarantees of continued environmental protection, we have already withdrawn from the occupied northern regions."

"You see, Akali, we both have our reasons," Rafohy said, "and we are aware of the cost is. How would you solve the risk entanglement in their affairs once again?"

The harpy placed her hand on her chin, her wings fluttering as she was lost in thought for a moment.

"The Light is the answer," she said, "just as I convinced the Accord, we should hold no more secrets between us. Even if it is painful, even if it means giving up a bit of what we believe we are owed, cooperation begins with making clear our intentions, whatever they may be, and deciding where we can compromise."

The rumble of a vehicle down below drew their attention. A carriage, powered by miniature sparkdrive engines built into its axles, rolled along one of the tracks, loaded high with crates of supplies for the first expedition beyond the pillar. Riding alongside were an odd mixture. The halflings of the group, with some gnomes also included, were wearing full-body environmental suits with independent air supplies and inbuilt artificer doodads that would generate heat, cold, shielding, or other effects depending on what they encountered. The lizardfolk, by comparison, wore simple breathing masks and a single belt containing a shield generator, and would otherwise rely on their scales, having mutated such that their outermost layer shone like impenetrable metal that could ward off the harshest of conditions.

Workers scrambled around them, preparing smaller hand carts for the initial foray, while a squad of hovering magigyro holding a fresh set of rails in the air, ready to be delivered to bridge a distant gap as soon as the all clear was given. A klaxon sounded, and all but those ready for the expedition retreated to a safe distance.

The workings of the pillar were hidden deep within its internal mechanisms, but months of hard calculations had determined precisely where it would create a portal. Energies of every colour, and more besides, spewed out of thin air, and a wobbling tear began to form in the exact centre where the rails met. It appeared two-dimensional at a glance, but that was a strange optical illusion as it was spherical in actuality, ready to receive travellers from every direction.

After a few words between them, the team surrounded the iridescent and opaque sphere. They stepped through, lizard and halfling hand-in-hand and their carts dragged behind them, and once more the people of Halann voyaged into the distant unknown.

Looking at those she stood alongside, Rafohy felt confident that this was just the first of many such great mutual endeavours.

Consider this a very brief taste of the eventual Khatalaysha MT. I will definitely not be writing a Sarhal campaign until that is ready.

Nagar Vyechei, shared authority of Eordand and Aráya, South Aelantir, 2027 AA

Seron'ao flexed and felt the tendons of his body strain and pop against the roots that ran deep beneath his flesh. The Goddess' Song ran deep within him, soothing any pain that might have been inflicted upon him, and leaving only the pure knowledge that he was one with Her will. Implanted beside his hear, the Seedling pulsed, drawing its nutrition from his blood and its energy from a winding branch that curled around his neck and sprouted a collar of leaves that cascaded over his shoulders and covered his whole body. He knew it was a sight that unnerved visitor, and yet it was a blessing nonetheless to be so in tune with the greatest life upon Halann.

He strode through the streets of Nagar Vyechei towards the skyport, feeling the reverential stares and hushed prayers of the common citizens as they looked from their mottled wooden dwellings. Even in this day and age, when Her Song resonated across the continent, implantation remained a rare gift. Through centuries of careful cultivation and study the process had settled on a twenty percent failure rate, and a further thirty percent risk of long-term disability, which were odds that only the most devoted were willing to take. Seron'ao could feel that one of his arms did not have the range of motion it once did, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make to lose himself in Her Song.

At one time this had been a warlord city of Taychend, beset by constant violence and death. Then it had fallen under the spell of violent crusaders against slavery, who were little better for those they had freed, drafting them into an endless war. Now, the concept of slavery or property was meaningless. Homes were crafted from the cast-aside timber of the Goddess, whose roots spread across the region. Food was taken from Her plentiful bounty, clothes were woven from the silk spun by the creatures that dwelt in the overgrown lands beyond the city's boundaries.

They wanted for nothing, and if their lives needed more meaning then they could take the challenge of travelling into the heart of the Goddess, whether to slay one of the beasts that prowled the darkest canopies and become a warrior of Her defence, or to join one of the great institutions of thought that communed with Her and one another to solve the great problems of the day.

Most of the inhabitants of this city did not do so, for they had another ideal to aspire to. It was strange to Seron'ao, but the Goddess had expressed Her assent when one of the fey patrons of Eordand had communed with Her. Something had passed between them, and She had loosened Her grip upon a number of cities, which now served as embassies not just for the other members of the Life Partnership, as they called it, but also for other foreign emissaries. Such as the ones he would be meeting.

After a leisurely stroll through the root-entangled streets of the deep city, the roads began to clear for more sorts of foreign transit. Wood buildings, each unique in form and function, were replaced by drab, dead stone and glass. Foreign, artificial, fabrics became more common among the citizens, and some even worked upon machines of artifice, wielding strange magic to empower cold and silent metal devices with the energy of life.

The skyport jutted out of the harbour, a great expanse of reclaimed land bounded by stone warded to keep the Goddess from piercing it with her roots and turning the flattened area into a beautiful shattered and blossoming landscape. As he stepped across the invisible magical line, his seedling quivered and thrummed. There was anger there, if muted. Some part of Her wished this to be excised, even if She as a whole understood the need to communicate with the outside.

Descending from the sky was a long and tall craft of metal and plastic, with three layers of windows and four wings jutting from between them. It had cut its thrust and began to glide in, as inscriptions on its wings flared and unnatural winds braked its approach. With a clunk, its wheels touched the surface and it almost immediately rolled to a stop. As Seron'ao watched it taxi towards him, he considered whether a true living spawn of the Goddess could match such a craft. That was the reason the jungle had not been spread for centuries, for the seas were now guarded by the fiery wrath of the Union of the Dawn, and the few harpies and other flying inhabitants were not strong enough to mount an oceanic invasion by themselves.


The bulky craft settled to a stop, and a ramp descended, unloading dozens of passengers. The vast majority were blue ruinborn, Theínósi who were here to trade, negotiate, and in some cases join the communion with the Goddess.

"It is an honour to meet one so blessed with life," said the one outlier among the group. A harpy, though not one of those from the eastern peninsula that had embraced a life of nesting and flying in the heights of the Goddess' canopy.

"It is an honour to speak on Her behalf," Seron'ao replied, shaking his shoulders to send a wave of rustling down the length of his body.

"I don't know this one's name, but he should have a connection to the jungle," said a blue woman in a tone that irritated Seron'ao. She was dressed wrapped in the robes of Theínós, painted in tones that he knew were not found in nature, but dreamed up in a vat of chemicals somewhere.

"Come now, Istradora, I can see he is more than just a conduit," the harpy said, "your people negotiated a peace with them, I would hope."

"Apologies, Akali," Istradora said, offering a small bow, "but we do find it best to get to the heart of the topic when speaking to a Seedthrall."

What a strange word for one so blessed. Seron'ao could feel the roots constricting his body and yet he was far more free than he had ever been in his life before. Free from pain and suffering, free from the need to search for a purpose, and free from death as his soul would join with the Goddess when this body eventually failed. Straight talk had been the means of negotiation, it was true, but he would just as eagerly debate the philosophies of the Goddess, if only the divine words he spoke could be understood by them.

"I have a couple of questions, then," the Akali said, stepping towards him with a look of interest in her eyes. "First, I am most curious about the efforts of the Life Partnership in North Aelantir and Escann. I have heard what the Spring Court has to say about it, but I would like to hear your perspective."

The question filtered through Seron'ao's ears, through the thin branch that tickled the backs of his eardrums, and into the Seedling. An echo resounded back, a song that sang of new trees growing across the world, of the birth of a great new life on par with the Goddess herself, arising from the ash of a life once thought lost. For a few moments his mouth moved, but no words came out, for Her Song was not for the ears of the uninitiated.

"The Feyrealm, the Plane of Life, the Positive Energy Mirror," he finally said, speaking words he did not recognise and yet bubbled up in his mind anyway, flowing out from the thoughts of implanted scientists and philosophers from across Aráya. "To shift the balance of Halann towards pure and natural Life, that is the aim. Life can be harnessed, life can grow and transform, and life can always recover from the greatest of disasters. Our partners seek to regrow a World Tree, and with it heal the damage of thousands of years of war and hundreds of years of pollution. It is an initiative we agree with, though we cannot know if their intentions are pure."

"And that is the problem," the Akali mused, "if only intent were as easily spoken as words. Perhaps you would have come to understand us sooner."

"Perhaps," Seron'ao echoed back, a deeper and louder song sounding in his bones. His body, besides his vocal cords, had gone limp and was only held up by the roots that ran through it, while his mind was ecstatic at the thought that She had now touched him directly to treat with this foreigner.

"So that is my second question," the Akali said. She stepped closer again, and gently set a hand on Seron'ao's arm, the one that had lost his function. "How did you, and our blue friends, communicate your intent to one another enough that you were able to come to terms."

Images continued to flow through Seron'ao's mind, leaving his body near insensate as all his energy was devoted towards translated on Her behalf. It took all he could to even retain enough lucidity to see and hear what was happening beyond the edge of his body.

"For so long, their walls of cold stone and their weapons of burning flame were an obstacle, monsters that that would be overcome to preserve the jungle," he spoke, "it was only when they delved into the depths of the blue desert and returned with tools that touched upon the world's fundamentals that the touched us. Though the weapons crafted of blue sand caused our limbs to grow tumorous and fetid, they also opened up a path of communication that was not there before. The one thing our relentless Life, and their technology now shared."

"A fundamental force," the Akali said, "I know the Standard Theory of the five fundamental forces. Could that be the key?"

She seemed to ask the question more to herself than to Seron'ao or the greater mind behind him, so there was a moment of blessed calm that allowed him to start regaining his physical faculties. He lifted his head from where it had flopped to the side, and saw the harpy smiling.

"I believe I know what I need to do," she said, "Thank you. May Surael's Light forever shine upon your leaves."

Above the Planar Rift, Ocean of the Lost, 2029 AA

Surael shone his Light upon Akali Aruhana and gave His blessing to this great endeavour. The baking heat did not bother her, nor did the chill wind from so high in the atmosphere. The platform on which she rode was small but well-insulated, holding only enough magi to maintain it plus two passengers.

Beside her was her self-proclaimed bodyguard, a giant of a 'human' with deep bronze skin and the outfit of a warrior from the age of the Silver Regime. Compared to her simple and plain clothes, it was almost ostentatious. However, if she was correct then none of that would matter.

Atop her head she once again wore the master helm. Much of the magical power had been drained from it now, distributed across replica helms that could be used to give minor boosts to the magical strength of individuals. No longer would there be a vast difference in strength across the Illumine Accord, for even someone who could barely touch magic could be elevated to the level of a skilled magi. Across the millions who could benefit, perhaps they would be the ones to drain this seemingly-endless well dry at last.

Even with the power that remained, it was still more than enough for what she intended.

They descended to the surface of the ocean, as indistinct and grey as any other region of swaying waves. Below them, long known since the Gommo first charted the edge of the Insyaa Stormwall, was the space where reality unfurled and the distant Plane of Water touched upon the oceans of Halann. Perhaps it was the place the oceans originated. She did not know, but she might be able to learn, if this worked.

In the distance, the grey shapes of dozens of warships from the Accord and its allies drifted on the surface of the water. If negotiations failed, then the sad truth was that war would be the only option. With the wonders of artifice and modern magic on board, she had no doubt they could accomplish a feat similar to Kar Alušir's final fantasy, but that would be a tragedy she would prefer to avoid.

With a signal from her, the magi adjusted the workings of the platform and it began to descend into the depths. A bubble of air surrounded them, and more importantly at the very top of the bubble was a permanent portal to the outside world. Through it, the Light of Surael shone brightly on their party and a steady stream of air resupplied the otherwise claustrophobic space. It took an hour for the platform to reach the sea floor, a place of deep and impenetrable darkness from the edge of the bubble off into infinity.

"Last chance to back down," said the bronze man, "you have impressive fortitude for a mortal, but I don't know if your mages can keep up with you."

Every edge was required. This was a project that was unimaginable to the original wearer of the helm, unimaginable to most at all. Aruhana reached out and touched each of the magi in turn, laying a charm of calm and peace over each of them so that they would not panic, no matter what happened. Though they were all volunteers on this endeavour, even the bravest could falter. Even she might.

"I have spent years preparing for this," she replied, "if I fail, then the helm is buried for good. If I succeed, a new horizon is opened for us."

She held up her hand, opening it to the sunlight shining down from the portal above, and channelled it into a perfect dense sphere of pure Light that burst forth an endless beam that for the first time in perhaps forever cast daylight into the depths of the ocean. Not to burn or destroy, but merely to illuminate. Even in the glaring Light of Surael, the sandy and rocky landscape of the bottom of the ocean was cast in twilight and shadows, only the barest visibility afforded beyond one hundred feet.

But she had made her proclamation, using the power of the master helm that ought to shine like a magical beacon to things that lurked in the depths. It did not take long for a response.

Pulling itself up over a rock came an abomination that exactly matched the vision of the Second Onslaught that Kar Alušir had imagined. A creature of death and malice, comprised of the bones of creatures of sea and land both, held together in a roughly human shape by hundreds of tendrils. A true deep devil rose before her. Underwater it did not move like a person, but rather each clump of grey flesh pulled independently, causing the shape to constantly shift and tumble as it moved across the sea floor.

The bronze one drew his blade and licked his lips.

"An underwater fight might be tricky, but these things have caught my eye before," he said, "I've got some ideas."

"No," Aruhana said, "first we try my way."

He grumbled, but relented. He was only here for the adventure anyway; he would likely be satisfied by watching her do something that had never been done before.

For years of study she had wracked her brain on how she might communicate with creatures that did not seem capable of communicating with the people of the surface. She had conversed with fey, with genies from the Lava Sultanate, with elementals summoned from the Planes, to try to understand their ways, and studied every school of magic for something that might offer a solution.

It was in the most forbidden of schools that she had found a solution. For the ocean depths were known to be built on the corpses of billions of sea creatures that had come before.

She raised her hands, and channelled every scrap of magic she could draw from the helm. Before her the ocean floor began to rise, a mound of sand forming in front of her, held together by fragments of bone and discarded shells. This was not true necromancy, for the souls of the lost were not being used to animate what she had transmuted, but it was built on the concept that life retained some knowledge of its form even long after death, and imitating that was far more efficient that creating life anew.

The sand and bone and shells grew taller and taller until its base gave way and left a formless shape floating just above the sea floor. All the while the deep devil writhed closer.

With one final heave of effort, the mass remembered what it once was, the image of a life long since lost reasserting itself on reality for just a moment. It flattened and spread wide, taking on the form of a flatfish, or a ray perhaps, a thin and tenuous creature with fins marked out by protruding bones and patterns of shells running along its body. Many times larger than it had been in life, it swam forward and engulfed the deep devil, tiny teeth made of sharpened shells picking and grabbing at the bones that made up the body of the creature.

In doing so, in imitating the same drive that seemed to animate the deep devil, Aruhana found a bit of sympathy welling in her heart, the magical connection doing its job. The ocean floor was picked clean of useful material by scavengers. The land was plentiful in life and could sustain the deep devils in building materials for centuries to come. It was a horrible, alien, ideal, but it gave her a piece of understanding of what she was up against.

After a moment the deep devil cast aside the necro-flatfish, leaving it damaged and flailing. From where it had been fighting, with chunks bitten from its body, it stared at Aruhana without its eyes. She could not tell if it had absorbed any of her intent for peace from just a single tussle, but that it was not roiling in a relentless march towards her was a good sign. Whether it was considering her as a more dangerous foe that needed a new approach, or something different, someone it could deal with without tearing apart to use as body parts, she had yet to understand.

"So, did it work?" asked her companion.

"I think we might be able to open up a dialogue," she said, "but this is just the beginning of my diplomatic onslaught."

The End

Thank you all for reading! Voting remains open in the preliminary vote for the next campaign.

Vote for up to five options by clicking on the image below. The resulting top five will be included in the final poll.



Voting will be open for four more days

 

[jak7139]

Thank you for the story!

Maybe world peace is achievable if Aruhana keeps at it.

 

[Sybot]

My new thread is open with the final vote for our nation: https://forum.paradoxplaza.com/foru...ne-an-eu4-anbennar-aar.1747351/#post-30358875

 

[theauthor]

Alusir had helped Bulwar into greatness but he is now no longer needed. I admit his story does end rather suddenly mission tree wise so i guess it make sense in here the Akalete just... simply put the helm away.

Thankf you for writing the story.