>>6131057
Militarily has seen the most action. The light cavalry crossed paths with a Mizarian raiding party a week into your stay. Thankfully, a veteran of your father's encounter with the Udirgols was in charge of the patrol. He quickly withdrew in an attempt to bait them into an ambush while tipping off a few knights who were nearby to check up on the scouts; they managed to eliminate the party in its entirety. You can only hope the enemy won't miss them too soon, as you would like time to prepare a warm welcome.

Aside from that, the men have been kept busy trying to restore some sense of public order back into this semi-lawless land. A few looters, thiefs, brigands, and other gallowsbait have been dealt with, but most fields yet remain untitled.

Religious conflict is also brewing, and the men nearly came to blows when the Mithradians refused to attend a service ministered by a 'western' chaplain, refusing the rites and communion in a tongue foreign to them. This isn't that much of an issue, though it might be a good idea to throw the Mithradians a bone in the form of their own minister.

As for the wider world, you cannot say. Father presumably still reigns from his seat in Rittersbach; the Mithradian emperor is presumably watching all this with close intent; and in Tautenland, the Kaiser is planning something; you know the vague outline of his plans, but not the details.

At a closer level, your friends have been snooping around the ruins here and there, although they can't find anything of use just yet. The more scholarly among believe there may be something of use in the leftovers of the past.

All in all, your position isn't precarious, nor is it secure. You're a long way from Greifswald and a stranger in a strange land. The house of Adlershorst expects that every man shall contribute to its legacy, and you most certainly will.

>First things first, I shall require a constant and reliable source of supplies; it's almost harvesting season, and I assume we'll stay here for the winter.

>The current base is high up in the mountains, very defensible and very remote. It would serve us to relocate to a more easily accessible position. From where we might control the countryside better.

>The Mithradian troops are a problem; I should look into either reforming them or finding another purpose for them.

>I require a set of eyes and ears, not on the front but in Elisonikon. I do not trust the Mithradians as far as I can throw them.
_______________________________

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>>6131058
>The current base is high up in the mountains, very defensible and very remote. It would serve us to relocate to a more easily accessible position. From where we might control the countryside better.

Gotta find the next bandit lord to make kneel, preferably one with a better house.

>>6131058
>>The current base is high up in the mountains, very defensible and very remote. It would serve us to relocate to a more easily accessible position. From where we might control the countryside better.

We should do what we can to accommodate the Mithradians, it is after all their land and people that we are fighting for, and I believe that it will pay off well to show that we are here to support them.

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>>6131064
>>6131119

For someone who planned to raise an army here in secret, this old fort is a perfect position—out of the way, steep, and a logistical nightmare for anyone who would come to expel them from it. But you are here to take initiative and to drive whatever plagues this land away. Sitting squat high upon the mountains would be most counterproductive. Therefore, it is of importance to replace your current billet with one closer to the inhabited world. The countryside might have been emptied, with only a few shepherds and other herdsmen still properly calling it home, but the few walled cities with functioning garrisons still have productive outskirts surrounding them.

You had some horseman scout the land for some suitable positions. From what you could recall from your lessons, the Mithradian cities of antiquity were usually independent of a central authority and thus had their own laws armies and coins. They also had a central point upon a slope which served as both a central temple and a citadel to fall back upon in case the outer walls failed. An acropolis. You weren't certain whether that style was popular in this region or not but looking for one wouldn't hurt.

There were some criteria for your next temporary home. It has to be more publicly accessible. It should overlook a good chuck of territory and above all should be made to serve not only as a fort but also as a castle. A place where you can live, work, arbitrate disputes if the Mithradian law system is lacking and other things. In short, it should be a place that could serve as a castle if one were to spend a longer time in it. But all that aside, you can decide upon whether you want a permanent base of operation later. For now, you would be contented with a place that won't be snowed in during the winter, or least not as much as in the mountains.

Ehrenfried reported back the following day. According to him, there are three suitable locations within a month's march, meaning you could come there before the first of Novalmons (IX).

>>6131295
The first is an old semi-fortified villa upon an island in the river. With a bridge connecting it to the mainland, it's still remote. The nearest village is a day's march away. But the bridge makes it an excellent choking point if it ever came under assault. The soil there is very fertile, it appears. So hopefully you can grow your own food there.

The village of Athos stands in the shadow of an old rock. Upon which stood a ruined set of fortification and an old temple. From the description it would seem to be an acropolis, though the polis it once served has seen better days from its description as a village. Apparently, there is a basement in the old temple that is yet to be opened. Some of your men hope that there might be value inside there. Perhaps the storage for the liturgies or some other treasure.

The city of Trorinolis is one of the few place around which law and order has largely saved itself from the anarchy that has engulfed the rest of the valleys. Because of this, they are dealing with a refugee crisis because of the fleeing peasants that are currently trickling in from elsewhere in search of safety. On the one hand, you could probably do a lot of good if you came here. Your forces could help the local authorities and if nothing else, there is a stream of manpower to exploit there.

Choose your destination.
>To the old villa on the island. (1)
>The acropolis of Athos (2)
>To Trorinolis. (3)

Would you consider making this place your permanent base of operations?
>Yes, even if I will eventually leave, having a permanent place to fall back upon or to serve as a depot would be handy.
>No, there might be places better suited and I intend to push as far as I can before the campaigning season is over.

>>6131296
>To Trorinolis. (3)
Well located, manpower and the refugees will be able to provide some (outdated) intel.
>Yes, even if I will eventually leave, having a permanent place to fall back upon or to serve as a depot would be handy.
Only a fool thinks he can conquer without supply.

>>6131304
Support

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Trorinolis is a relatively normal inland town by Mithradian standards. It lies near the convergence of two rivers and is notable for its walls, which keep it relatively safe. The countryside, too, is more orderly than what you have previously seen. Olive groves and wheat fields are in full glory here as a few peasants pull along a handcart. This is a far more pleasant surprise than you had previously expected.

Root cellars, granaries and a few farmsteads dot the hilly land as you march closer towards the city gate. For the occasion, you had appointed a banner-bearer to assuage any fears that you wear an enemy. Western heraldry is, after all, very different from the type of symbols the Saracen used for his banners. You also chose not to wear your helmet for that matter, as it would allow you to speak with the watch if they asked you about something.

Just before you came under the arch of the gate, a slender middle-aged man dressed in scale armour walked over to the middle of the gateway to block your path. ''Halt if you would please, we would like to know your reasons for appearing here, as you have shown no intention to do us or our city any harm. We would like to prevent any unnecessary conflicts.'' He spoke in a low, provincial accent of Mithradian that gave you some difficulty in translating before you spoke.

''Then you can tell your superior that I am a friend of your emperor, as I am here to aid him against his foes. I offer my help in your problems for a billet, food, and fodder for my horses.''

''Excuse me for a minute.'' the man walked back the way he came before returning. ''The Eparch had received word beforehand that an army from the mainland may come. He wishes to meet with you at the earliest possible convenience. You will receive your billet and fodder, but I am afraid that we currently cannot provide you with food.''

The streets of Trorinolis are heavily crowded, though they make way for the metal-clad men that march through their streets. Many look at your horse with envious and hungry eyes, and the marketplace is packed with tents for the refugees. From the inside, you spied the partially dismantled citadel that stood at the highest point within the city walls. You wonder what happened to it. You will probably find out.

The eparch is a spindly, balding bureaucrat. With a clear but troubled glint in his eye. His deck is stacked with towers of papers and parchment, as well as spend ink pots and other office supplies. ''Please, my lord. Sit down, if you would. I understand you have come here on a campaign against the invaders, and though my own resources are quite thin, I can at least offer you my hospitality.''

He offered you a glass of win, he poured in the wine first, before diluting it with water. ''It makes it less powerful, and keeps your head clear for longer. It's the last vintage from my estates before the workers ran away. Can't say I blame them.'' He paused.

>>6131646
''Farmers and shepherds keep flooding in here, and my garrison can only patrol so much of the countryside. So my ability so ensure a supply of food is nearly always in peril. I expect that next winter there will be a famine here within the city unless something changes.''

''If you are willing, my lord, driving back the enemy would be a part of the plan. But subsequently, we should attempt to restore a semblance of order to the countryside. Aside from that, I plan to seize vast amounts of land abandoned by our beloved aristocrats before they have a change to worm their way back here.''

''I can imagine that you have some questions about me, the city or our surroundings. And I shall try to answer to the best of my ability.

>What is up with that old citadel?
>Aren't you a aristocrat yourself?
>What is the history of Trorinolis?
>What's an Eparch?
>What is the state of the local arms industry?
>Write-in

>>6131648
>>What is up with that old citadel?
>>Aren't you a aristocrat yourself?
>>What's an Eparch?

>write in

We should enquire into their food needs, and compare it to our reserves. A little charity would go a long way I would think.

We could also seek to bolster our Mithradian forces with some of the refugees, I think they might would do well in conjunction with a small core of our professional fighters in controlling the countryside.

I think we should be wary of this mans motives in seizing land from aristocrats.

>>6131648
>What is the state of the local arms industry?
>What is up with that old citadel?
>What are the other major players in this region?

>>6131726
>>6131864
''What is up with that old citadel?''

''I had it dismantled. For the better part of two centuries, Mithras has not been under any serious threat. We neglected our walls, and they crumbled. I used the stone from it to repair the city walls. I didn't have the resources or the manpower to repair or man both. If you want to, you can set up camp there, it has been abandoned since last winter.''

'' Aren't you an aristocrat yourself? Why would you seek to seize land from your fellows?''

''They don't use it. Most of our nobility is in the capital, and they rarely visit their estates out here. Weak emperors have allowed a good chunk of state land to be carved up into their private estates. That is another problem, one far older and difficult to root out than the war. Before the invasion vast estates drove most of the smallholder to ruin, they then sold their farms to them, and when the Mizarians came the overseers fled along with their employers. I want to use that land to settle the refugees and others there legally as soon as the war is settled. That way, I can ensure that the fields are used to grow food for the cities, not crops for export.'' the Eparch explained in a dull and sleepy tone.

''Before I ask something else, what's an eparch, and how is the arms industry? Can I buy new armour and weapons here?''

''Eparch is my title. It means I am in charged with the governance of this city and its outskirts, together with the bishop. Above me stands the Strategos of the region. And above him stands the Katepano, who reports directly to the emperor. Only we haven't had a bishop for a long time, and when the strategos was captured in battle, the office has yet to be filled. As for our production of arms and armour, our smiths can supply our garrison just fine, only we're dependent on shipments of iron and coal. And we have had no shipments for a while. The mines lie north of a village called Athos. In what's known as the brown valley because of the iron. We have reserves, but only enough for ourselves. Equipping your army would deplete them.''

''Is there anyone else I should be aware of, any other major players in the region?''

''There used to be a man by the name of Cephalas, but he was more of an annoyance than anything. Most of the Mizarians have withdrawn south, I've heard, but the leader of the remaining ones is a man by the name of Tughril, who has taken on a defensive stance in light of the reshuffling of troops. I am no soldier, but aside from raiding, he has undertaken no offensives. So I believe he is a cautious man who counts his numbers. There is a robber chief by the name of Maurus. I suspect he has taken over the mines because of the ransom letters I received from his person, he has driven away the workers and has threatened to sell the ore to Tughril instead. So he is a problem.'' His face contorts for bit.

>>6131962
I have also received rumours about a marauding band op people who dress up as hoplites. Allegedly, these men are led by a man thinks himself a hero of antiquity reborn. They dress up like them and move with erratic speed. I used to dismiss them as mere rumours, but my men had some close encounters with them. From what information I could receive from the survivors, these men have forsaken the faith in favour of the old pagan ways. They are also looking for monsters to kill, as apparently one survivor overheard them talking about hunting a Pegasus, a flying horse that hasn't been seen in over a millennium. I do not know what their motives are, but I cannot help but suspect they are up to something, they have also been spotted searching the old temples. So I think they might be more to them than a glorified death cult.''

Upon returning outside, you directed the men to march over into the yard of the old citadel. To make an updated inventory of provisions to see if you could miss anything, and to make certain that the place wasn't a complete hovel.

''I suppose we could miss the non-salted food, as well as the food the forages brought in. What I can give the refugees the non-conserved food which will spoil more easily, the apples, olives and other fruits and vegetables we have plucked from the country.'' the quartermaster told you.

''Then we shall do that, I will go and recruit some men in the refugee camps. The must be enough desperate men out for work at any rate.''

''Is there anything you would like the rest of us to do?'' A knight asked.

>Begin cleaning up this place so we can properly inhabit it. The camp will only serve us for as long as the sun shines.
>Begin patrolling the countryside with all the horse we have, do so in cooperation with the garrison so we can cover more.
>Ask the garrison for help with training our Mithradian conscripts.
>Write-in.

>>6131974
>Begin cleaning up this place so we can properly inhabit it. The camp will only serve us for as long as the sun shines.
>Begin patrolling the countryside with all the horse we have, do so in cooperation with the garrison so we can cover more.
We can do this is shifts. The conscript issue is something I don't know to solve yet.

>>6131974
>>Begin cleaning up this place so we can properly inhabit it. The camp will only serve us for as long as the sun shines.
>>Begin patrolling the countryside with all the horse we have, do so in cooperation with the garrison so we can cover more.

>>61320460

As to the conscripts, I think we should review their leadership and see what we can do personally about developing them, and perhaps encourage them to learn our language, and likewise encourage our own leadership to learn theirs. Building cohesion in our force will be a good way to pass the winter.

We should make it a priority to recapture the mines so that we can replace their arms and armor as well.

>>6132046
>>6132131
The citadel was dark and dusty. Not as dark and dank as you had expected it to be. In Greifswald, such a structure would have been a musky hole filled with mould. The warmer climate here is kinder to its buildings, it seems. Unfortunately, you had to write off some towers, hallways, rooms and other parts of the fortress as prone to collapse. Thankfully, most of the living quarters and the stable are relatively intact. And the cool halls provide a much welcome reprieve from the late summer sun. You gave the order for your belongs to be moved from the carts into the room of the citadel's warden. You brought the bedsheets from Cephalas with you as a reserve and had Wittekind placed in the stable.

For now, the Mithradians would be made to clean up and repair the place. When you got the proper equipment, you would begin training them. You also intended to use them as a temporary reserve force. If one of your men died, whether in battle or in something else. You would take his armour and arms and give it to someone else. This wouldn't fly with knights who brought their own equipment, but the rest was equipped with weapons paid for with your father's money, and was merely lent to them. Not given.

In the longer term, you intend to begin integrating and coordinating between the two groups. For now, most of them communicate with nods, grunts and sign language. While it is better than nothing, you want them to be more effective if they could.

But first things first, you had the cavalry assembled and broken up into smaller groups to patrol the countryside. They are to not engage unless they are certain of the odds. But alert the rest, if the enemy was big enough, they would still be there. If they weren't, then they aren't with enough number to assault the city.

With the horse off, you began to settle slowly into the room that you would call your own for now, while carrying a smaller type of tent roll on the back of their saddle. While the room was habitable, the paint and plaster had seen better days. You would probably need to send someone to clean the chimneys before it become icy, whether this warm land would have a kinder winter than at home you didn't know, especially up here between the mountains.

In the evening, just as you had finished eating your evening meal with the other nobles in the improvised mess halls. A sergeant of your men-at-arms was patiently waiting outside in the hallway.

''My lord, some of the common soldiers wish to take leave in the town for the evening. I thought it would be prudent to ask for your permission before we acted upon it.''

Hmm, leave you suppose that marching a month through the country has been exhausting upon their spirits, but on the other hand, there is the ever-present threat of losing discipline.

>>6132217
>Very well, but only for the Tautens.
>I suppose it's only fair to them.
>Only until eleven o'clock. I will have someone blow the horn for the curfew and send the provosts after the stragglers.
>Absolutely not!
>Write-in

>>6132217
>Only until eleven o'clock. I will have someone blow the horn for the curfew and send the provosts after the stragglers.
>Write-in: and only in a groups of minimum 5 men. (to avoid dumbasses ending up robbed, injured, dead or within someone else's bed.)

>>6132218
>>Write-in

We should inform the Eparch so that he may relay it to his garrison so that they can make arrangements on their end to account for our men being given leave.

Then,

>>Only until eleven o'clock. I will have someone blow the horn for the curfew and send the provosts after the stragglers.

You suppose that the men should have some relief after the journey. This is the first major city they have been in since you left Elisonikon, the lads in the ranks are young and should have some distraction before you throw them in the fray again. Whether that comes from the dice, backgammon, drink or *ahem* carnal 'distractions' is up to them.

What should not be up to them is their bedtime. You don't want to spend the next morrow collecting and fetching every man from wherever he ends up. That would be a massive waste of your time and of your attention. Therefore, you shall institute a curfew at eleven o'clock. And you shall authorise the provosts. The men responsible for keeping order in the camp and in the billets with retrieving any stragglers, latecomers who are carrying a drunk comrade to bed, are not to be punished. But the ones who lie giggling in the gutter will probably get a trip to the stockade.

''Sergeant, I want you to make certain that the men go out in groups of five, they who go out together, will go home together. Make certain to distribute the tight-wads, the killjoys and anyone else who will watch the clock in even number across the groups. That way, at least one of them will stay sober enough to think.''

''Very well sir, is there anything else?''

''Yes send a runner to my room, I wish to inform the Eparch and his men, so we can avoid any fisticuffs. I don't mean to antagonise the local government by causing trouble.''

With all that done, you returned to check out some reports your subordinates had penned up for you. For some you write a reply, for others, you placed a seal. Either for your approval or authorising them to do a certain thing. For a while, you contemplate going out into town yourself. Not any of the lower entertainments (Who knows what they would say if you were spotted there?) But in the end, you decide it would be better to go get a full night's rest.

Come on the morrow, with the cackling of the cock. The provosts were hauling in the few men who managed to slip past your arranged rules. For some it would be latrine duty, for others the pillory, and for the greatest offenders would come the lashing. An ever-present reminder that you would punish undisciplined behaviour. You also received a note of thanks from the Eparch, who expressed this gratitude to you for not undermining his authority.

''Well, I suppose that for a first night it went well, no serious fights, no attempted plundering or robbing and for now the local authorities tolerate us. It could have got a lot worse if you ask me.'' Konrad von Heichsgau said in-between eating his bread and drinking from his cup filled with cow's milk.

''I agree. When you let soldiers off the hook, they rarely behave unless you keep a close on them. It can be a bloody business, one that doesn't always end well.'' Ehrenfried said while cutting the ham.

>>6132268
''Yes, honestly, I expected to be buried under complaints. I suppose we have been lucky that our men don't have that many pent-up frustrations just yet. Which is good, as I intend to hold a short campaign before the fall rains set in. The eparch has given me three good, obvious targets to focus on. And I intend to neutralise one of them, or barring that neuter their offensive capabilities for the rest of the year. And I have decided we shall attack-.''

>That strange hoplite cult. I don't like the sound of them. And I want them out of the game before they become an actual problem.
>The Mizarian raiding parties must be stopped, be depriving them of their bases and routes of attack. We can keep them away for a good amount of time.
>That Maurus fellow sits upon the resources we need the most. I don't want him selling to the Mizarians, nor do I want him to sit squat upon the biggest strategic ore vein in the region.

>>6132271
>The Mizarian raiding parties must be stopped, be depriving them of their bases and routes of attack. We can keep them away for a good amount of time.
Food and safety to maneuver first.

''The Mizarian raiding parties must be stopped by depriving them of their bases and routes of attack. We can keep them away for a good amount of time.''

Raiding and plundering is something easy to do. But they are but men still. So they should have camps and bases around somewhere.

''That is easier said than done. If we aren't careful, they'll simply slink away before our army, which comprises both foot and horse.'' Someone at the table said.

''Yes, if they spot us, they'll probably attempt to lure us out somewhere where we would be easy pickings. Surround us on all sides with archers, bleed us out before going in for the kill.'' Konrad said. He continued.

''We should not attempt to march openly upon them. They will spot us long before we have the chance to engage. If anything, we should send smaller parties of our own to ambush them. Or to at least shadow them so we can close the gap before they know what's going.''

''Or we do something else. The dwarves have a saying: That to truly hurt a man, you must strike him in his purse. If we manage to find and attack the place where they store their loot, they will be forced to defend their treasure. They might withdraw if they find they have nothing to gain, but if we go for their treasury, they will have everything to lose.'' Ehrenfried said.

Both these plans had some merits and some flaws. Ehrenfried's plan was the riskier of the two, but if successfully executed, could draw in enough of their man to make it worthwhile. While Konrad's plan relies on you carefully stalking the raiding parties and eliminating them one by one.

In the end, you went with:
>Ehrenfried's plan
>Konrad's plan
>I have a plan of my own brewed up. (Write-in)

>>6132682
>Konrad's plan

>>6132682
>Ehrenfried's plan

Rolled 1 (1d2)

An impasse, time to roll

1:Ehrenfried's plan.
2:Konrad's plan.

>>6133271
You decided to go with the plan of Ehrenfried's plan. It was a plan most risky, yes, but you decided that the potential reward was worth the risk. Indeed, depending on the plunder, you potentially can pay for supplies with any treasure they might have.

''I think your plan has the right of it, Ehrenfried. If we could force them all into in place by cutting the proverbial jugular, we could cripple their efforts for a good chunk of time. Depriving them of their coin would severely limit their capabilities.'' You said

''Good, the first thing we need to do is find one or more of the raiding parties, we should not engage with them unless the need is dire. We should have the light horse shadow them, and relay their movements with the main army on foot and the heavy cavalry.''

''Even when they are looting a village?'' You asked.

''No.'' He grimaced ''It may sound cruel or callous, especially coming from me. But in this case, we need to cover our approach, alerting them could alert them far, far too early for then we would otherwise want. Though it shall grieve both my heart and conscious to do so, I would recommend such an approach.''

''Well…'' You decided to change the subject. ''Obviously someone should be left behind here to look after our belongings and to oversee the repairs, aside from that. I shall inform the Eparch that I will be temporarily withdrawing the cavalry patrols from the countryside to bring the full force into the field. I will expect the army to be assembled before midday.''

You rode before the gathered host, dressed in red a few times. A short inspection before you would march out. You had the footmen and archers assembled in a column, with the remainder cavalry on the flanks. The majority of the cavalry would ride ahead, to search and shadow any movements of the enemy. They would only engage them to cloak the location of the army proper, insofar as that was possible, one of their scouts could easily spot your movements and signal it back if he so wished, so you prayed that night for concealment from both the elements and the eyes and ears of the enemy.

Roll a 1d100, best of three, the lower, the better.

im sleepy i cant read, are yo guys talking criptically about important things?

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>6133281
Why do we have too wait so many seconds for captcha man.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>6133281

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>6133281
I win

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Well, this will be interesting….

The roads go ever on, as the fields and meadows slowly begin to give way to the untamed hills and dales that scatter the landscape as you go in search of the Mizarian's treasure.

To begin with, you cross an old bridge over the river as you formally cross into enemy-held territory. You told the men to be on extra guard from now on, as the Mizarians could be hiding behind every bush and rock. For the first few days, you came across no one of note. Only the few people brave or mad enough to continue farming or shepherding here are the ones you came across.

But you do find something, something that made you worry quite a bit. ''My lord, one of the scouting parties found the remains of a campfire a few leagues over.''

''Interesting, is there anything to suggest that they might be aware of our movements?'' You asked of the man.

''Not that we know of, but cloud always be a possibility. The terrain is becoming steeper as we move, and we will have to pass through a pass between two rock formations. I would recommend caution.''

And that you did, you know that rough and unequal terrain would make for a likely point of ambush if it ever came to it. According to father, his great-uncle, and your namesake, had to deal with ambushes from the then pagan natives of Greifswald. But those were in heavily forested areas, where one could slink away if a thing went awry. But you supposed that you would have to take the risk. After all, if they know you are coming, and you know they know you are coming, you should take the best advantage of it.

It was past midday, on a relatively cool day for the time of the year, with a clam northern breeze keeping the sun from boiling you in your armour. You came across what you supposed to be the pass that you had to cross. As a precaution, you had a heavily armoured group of volunteer ride ahead, to see if they lay in ambush. For a moment it appeared that no-one was there, but then…

''They're here, they're here!'' cried one of the men before the shrieking of arrows clamoured through the air.

-You have been ambushed, DC shall receive -15 malus for the first few turns of the battle-

What shall you do?
>Fall back, regroup and reorganise.
>Advance up the hill to eliminate the archers.
>Write-in

>>6133839
>Send the left flank to attack and harass the archers while the rest wheels back to regroup and support the push on the left.

>>6133839
Seconding >>6133985

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The army came to a stumbling halt as the first arrows began to fall. The column your men were formed in wouldn't do for this situation, but on the other hand, you could not regroup without leaving the men in the open vulnerable to the enemy's attack. You had to counter them somehow. Of course, your own archers could offer counterfire, while the others would regroup into a line of battle.

The horse quickly turned about to fall back; the foot had a much harder time about it. Their heavy armour meant that though they could take a few arrows here and there, they were also slower, and you would need to move to engage the enemy upon the slope. If you could get your footmen into contact with the archers, they would surely melt in the melee.

But to get them there, you would need to suppress their barrage with one of your own. You had your crossbowmen and your rangers.

''Send word to the archers: rangers and crossbowmen both; have them form a line and prepare to give counterfire to those bowmen upon the hill.''

You won't let it end here for certain, that's certain—not without shedding some of their blood as well. A few of the unlucky ones already lay dead upon the field, hit in the throat or eye. You can only hope a few of them have none-fatal injuries.

The lines themselves were at first a mess before the sergeant quickly reordered the formation and your own archers made ready to fire. The crossbowmen had to advance a bit more to make up for the shorter range of their weapons, but their accuracy would make up for it.

There is still one thing you could do before ordering the advance: to help the men regain some confidence and to ease the effect of the ambush, you could attempt to rally them if you so wished, though you weren't certain at what risk it would put yourself.

Would you like to rally the men?
>Yes, yes I would (Attempt to rally the men easing the malus if you are succesful, at risk of your own personage. [Roll a 1d100]
>No, just execute the plan [roll a 1d100, DC 35 (Base DC of 50-15=35)

>>6134628
>Yes, yes I would (Attempt to rally the men easing the malus if you are succesful, at risk of your own personage. [Roll a 1d100]

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>6134679
also

Oh yes, before I forget, it's still best of three in case anyone else wants to try their hand.

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>6134679
Support

Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>6134628
RALLY

Things were not going well, not well at all. All things considered, this was beginning to be a problem. The lines are buckling under the pressure coming in from atop the hills. There is no other option, the men need a push in the back, something to bring them back from the brink.

Straightening your back, you draw your mithril sword, Silberkralle from its scabbard, allowing it blue-silverish blade to shine in the daylight. You give Wittekind the kick in the side to get you in the front of the army.

An arrow or two whizz past you as begin to speak. ''Stand fast you men, do you want to live forever? Now is your chance! Either live with your tail between your legs or life forever through the eternal glory that victory shall bring to both the living and the dead. VICTORY OR DEATH!!!'' You bellowed at the top of your longs as you rode up and down the formations, you repeated yourself a few times more, victory or death, victory or death.

After the initial confusion had worn off, some men had caught on to what you were saying. And in turn began yelling it back to yourself. Victory or death, Sieg oder Tod, Sieg oder Tod. The word reverberated up and down the lines of the assembled men.

''Sieg oder Tod!''

''Sieg oder Tod!''

''Sieg oder Tod!''

And so it was, you rode up and down last time, touching the tips of their weapons with your own. Before they went on to advance, yelling, and southing war cries, curses and taunts. Not matter what happens next. They were not going down easily, especially not now.

-Roll a 1d100, DC 45 (Base DC of 50-15+10=45)_

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>6135580
Just popping in to say that your art has really improved QM.

>>6135588
Thank you, also that roll was really close.

Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>6135580

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>6135580
Gonna do another roll to keep us going

File: Ambush at the pass 3.png (898 KB, 3248x1770)

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Your words strike true, and the mass of red begins marching forward once; this time they would reach the enemy lines if it were up to you, and with your own archers giving supportive counterfire, the men are able to march without too much harassment. Up the slope they go, the clatter of their armour reverting as they go. It is good that they are so well armoured, what with the Mizarians heavily favouring archers over regular infantry. The enemy archers continue to rain arrows down upon your advancing troops, but their armour holds strong against the barrage.

The first ones to come into melee combat are your own infantry and that of the enemy, who are mostly equipped with swords and shields, contra your own poleaxeman. The melee that will follow now will most likely be one of hard-fought man-to-man combat; even though you managed to keep them in formation, they won't be able to keep it straight. None but the most elite and disciples of soldiers could do formations that could hold for under pressure. The reverse is also true for the enemy, but it seems that your little pep-talk has given the lad the taste for blood, considering their taunts. And though you can't truly see over the helmets and weapons as they hack, slash, and stab into each other. It seems that your men are gaining the upper hand over them. The enemy's ranks are beginning to tumble under the relentless assault of your troops, their discipline slowly starting to waver as chaos reigns on the battlefield.

The meat grinder turns, but in your favour for now, though it will probably cost you if you keep it going. The archers over the river are still there, though their effectiveness has been hampered by the movement of your troops. The archers on the left, however, are beginning to come in reach of your troops, with all that that entails.

Momentum is now on your side, and a lot quicker than you had expected. It won't be easy to keep, especially with those archer on the right virtually unengaged, but then again. The cavalry has been idle for the battle, and for good reason, only an idiot or someone desperate would charge up a hill, it would exhaust the horses and lessen the impact of the charge, but on the other hand. Archers aren't known for their prowess, and though they most likely carried some kind of reserve weapon, they would be no match if you could get your knights and horseman up there.

Another move you could do is to have the cavalry ride up and beyond their flanks, as to roll up their line, engage the enemy force of cavalry and cut off a rout of retreat.

These are two different plans with two very different objectives and different in what they want to accomplish, but you have to make priorities, and so, you chose to:
>Have the cavalry ride up to flanks to preform a pincer manuever.
>Find a ford in the river to cross to attack the archers on the right.
>Write-in.

>>6136074
>Have the cavalry ride up to flanks to preform a pincer manuever.
>only the left flank though.
The enemy was stupid to split their forces over the river. you have a better defensive position sure, but we can concentrate our forces and take them out piecemeal.

>>6136116
support

File: Ambush at the pass 4.png (894 KB, 3248x1770)

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Victory is within your grasp; you can almost taste it. The Mizarians had a good plan, that's true, but their positioning was atrocious. All it requires is one last push, a last prod in the right direction.

Thinking, you notice that the flank of their archers is exposed while they make an attempt to defend themselves from a melee they are ill-suited to fight. With a swift manoeuvre, you can capitalise on this vulnerability and secure the victory that is so close at hand.

You spy your horse on the left; the right should remain in place to guard against their other archers, but the ones on the left are ripe for the picking. Once the knights and horsemen charge, you shall have your men push with all their might. This shall require some finesse, as one should not spend the energy of the horses charging up the hill, but one should still start the charge as soon as is convenient as to maximise its impact.

It shall require good timing; that much is certain, but with how the battle is going, you are confident that it shall work out.

To that end, you seek out the leader of that compartment of the army. A Greifswalder noble of middle age by the name of Franz Prätz von Mechelüng.

''My lord von Mechelüng, I have orders for you; as you can see, the enemy is beginning to falter. As such, you are to ride up and then charge them as soon as it's possible.'' You told him.

''You wish for us to charge up the slope, my lord? Forgive me, but would leave precious little time to bring out the charge.''

''You may swerve and manoeuvre as you please, if at all possible you shall keep at the walk until the crest of the hill, then you may descend at the greatest speed possible.''

The man starched his chin before riding back to his own men.
''Right lads! Our future Duke is counting on us to end this dance in our favour. As such, I intend to shove my own lance up the rear of as many of those phoenix worshipping pansies that you could make a tree out of it! Now who's with me?''

Sounds of agreement came from his men before they all kicked in their spurs and rode off.

-Roll a 1d100, DC 65 (Base DC of 50+15 (Wavering enemy) =65)

Rolled 61 (1d100)

>>6136775
roll number 1

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>6136775

Rolled 83 (1d100)

>>6136775
Incoming glorious Cavalry Charge.

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They ride slowly at first, but the ground still trembles under their collective weight; the hooves leave behind the imprints and some dust clouds. As they pick up speed, the rhythmic pounding of their hooves echoes through the valley, creating a thunderous symphony of movement. The riders lean forward, urging their mounts to go faster, their destination looming in the distance.

Horns and trumpets are sounded as they accelerate; their lances are kept high for now, but all know what will come when they pass over the crest of the hill.

While the footmen are still engaged with the ever-hungry tug-of-war, they will approach. You watch all with sweat on your brow, partially because of the southern sun and partly because of the battle and party because of your impatience at their progress.

You wish you had some measure of keeping the time in minutes, because the sun can't hack it when it comes to measuring small units of time. No, you would like some kind of clock. But those things are fragile and cumbersome, not suited for the chaos of battle. So you continue to wait, keeping at directing and ordering around the men already present.

But then it happens.

As if from a play, the pride of the Greifwalder aristocracy barrels into the layer upon layer of already scared Mizarian archers. For a split second, there is no reaction, but then… They break, scattering like leaves in the wind as the cavalry charges through their ranks, leaving chaos and destruction in their wake. The battle is nearly at its end. For the ones on the left bank of the river.

Their archers were the first to break, but both the onslaught from your footman and now the threat of being truly encircled make them break soon after as well. The Greifwalder cavalry presses forward, their victory seeming imminent as the Mizarian forces disintegrate before them. The remaining soldiers over on the right bank of the river can only watch in horror as the defeat of their comrades becomes inevitable. In the distance, you can see that their sole unit of cavalry has begun their withdrawal. Their commander is most likely among them; whoever he was, you don't think you'll ever have to face him again if this is his performance.

Many of them are trying to rid themselves of their armour. Some make a break for the river to cross to their friends on the other bank. But most are cut down by your cavalry; what few stragglers remain are finished off by the advancing infantry.

The day is nearly yours, but a few more matters require your attention before you can claim victory.
>Find a ford across the river, our victory isn't compelte until we have broken them as well.
>Finish of the rest of the remaining enemy on this bank. I want to maximise their causulties.
>Write-in

>>6137288
>Finish of the rest of the remaining enemy on this bank. I want to maximise their causulties.
Prisoners for labour and also simply killing future bandits and deserters. (it may be quite heartless, but it's brutally pragmatic)

>>6137288
>Finish of the rest of the remaining enemy on this bank. I want to maximise their causulties.

Let's kill what we have at hand before we advance over the river and split our troops like the enemy did before.

>>6137288
>>Finish of the rest of the remaining enemy on this bank. I want to maximise their causulties.

>>6137294

Support, either labor or ransom would be fantastic.

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By now, the battle is nearly coming to an end; what few remaining Mizarians are left on your bank of the river are by now being slaughtered piece by piece; some poor soldiers drown in the river trying to flee. The cavalry cut down what stragglers remain afoot in the rear, easy pickings for them. You see a few more unsporting types ride after a fleeing Mizarian in an attempt to see which one of them can stab him first.

Your own men are nearly done with throwing people into the river; some have even broken off to finish off what few remaining men lie wounded on the ground; the archers likewise have traded their bows for their secondary war knives. The wounded Mizarians, of course, can't really resist, but while the rearguard is busy slaughtering the enemy wounded on the ground, you notice a small group of enemy soldiers attempting to regroup, but they are exhausted and weakened by the day's fighting, and when a group of your horsemen comes upon them, they begin chipping at their circle of spears, slowly withering the formation until the last men.

On the other bank, the enemy archers are beating a quiet retreat; they know the battle is lost and that they are powerless to stop you, ahem, incapacitating the enemy's offensive capabilities.

You do find it a bit odd that you have received no proper calls from surrender from the ones stuck between your men and the river, but then again, it might be for the best.

''My Lord, I believe that day is ours; in fact, our men have begun slitting the throats of the immobilised enemies. I'm not certain what the protocol is here; in Argalis, the nobles and knights would have been taken for ransom, and the common soldiers either let go after being deprived of their arms or killed. But I'm not certain whether those rules apply to the infidel or not.''

>No pity, no prisoners, I came here to stunt their capacity for raiding, and by St. Gerardus I intent to do as such.
>Try to at least take some prisoners, at very least they should know we are not without mercy, after all, if one of ours ends up being captured, we should be able to retrieve him.
>Write-in.

>>6137774
>>Try to at least take some prisoners, at very least they should know we are not without mercy, after all, if one of ours ends up being captured, we should be able to retrieve him.

>>6137774
>>No pity, no prisoners, I came here to stunt their capacity for raiding, and by St. Gerardus I intent to do as such.

We are not done yet are we? Otherwise taking prisoners will cripple our ability to move.

>>6137774
>Try to at least take some prisoners, at very least they should know we are not without mercy, after all, if one of ours ends up being captured, we should be able to retrieve him.

Pure massacre is a bad look

>>6137774
>Try to at least take some prisoners, at very least they should know we are not without mercy, after all, if one of ours ends up being captured, we should be able to retrieve him.
They may be infidels, but just slaughtering them like cattle feels wrong.

''Try to at least take some prisoners; at very least they should know we are not without mercy.'' You told the man, after all, if one of ours ends up being captured, we should be able to retrieve him. In war, there should always be aspects of gentlemanliness and fairness. Senselessly slaughtering all your enemies will get you results, yes, but it will also earn you a reputation that will make future negotiations difficult. Especially if one of yours falls into their hands, you at the very least want to ensure that they can be ransomed or exchanged.

''It is as you command, my lord. I shall make haste to the men with new orders.''

And with that, the man took off; he rode over the one group of men after the other, ordering them back into formation. Afterwards, the men began searching the dead and wounded for any that still lived; tie them up and huddle them together before you. They would be dealt with later.

''What we will with them? If there are too many, we won't be able to take them all back with us, and aside from that, the common soldiers won't be worth the ransom of their lords.'' ] Ehrenfried said.

''Labour, Sir. They will be put to work in the fields, building our buildings, or as servants in our households.'' You said. There probably won't be that many of them left to cause any trouble anyway.

Aside from finding the few remaining living enemies, the men also make busy plundering as many valuables as they could find. A knight took a curved sword with a gilded hilt as a trophy; some footmen were busy divvying up the silver they found in a pouch of one of the dead. A squire took a helmet with intricate feathers as his own. Unfortunately, you didn't seem to have bagged their supply train, so their money remains in their hands.

Some others were busy with retrieving your own dead and bringing them back to your camp for proper burial and treatment. The field was yours after all, and you had the ability to retrieve as many of them as you could save.

The remainder of the day would be spent taking prisoners and retrieving the wounded, as well as burying the dead in a respectful manner. The chaplain had consecrated ground for this purpose.

In the meantime, however, you would see to the prisoners, of whom there were a few. But not enough to worry about. Most of them silently looked at each other and, on occasion, mumbled something in their own language that none of the guards understood.

You, of course, didn't speak their language, nor did you expect them to know your native tongue. So you tried in a trade language, Isidorian at first, and then in Mithradian.

''Which one of you is the highest ranking among your lot? I wish to speak with him.'' You told the prisoners assembled before you.

File: Gülhan.png (154 KB, 969x1000)

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''I am, alsalam ealayk ya rajul alshamal.'' An olive-skinned man of middle age said to you in a formal bass. He nodded his head in greeting. He was large of nose, with dark eyes and a black beard.

''And what is it, then? That you just said to me?'' You asked of him.

''It is a traditional greeting in our religion; it means peace be upon you, followed by your name. As I don't know your name, I have named you as a man from the north.''

''How did you know I was from the north?'' You asked of him.

Because of your golden hair and pale skin, here only the richest of women are as pale as you are, but I suppose that it is normal where you come from. I mean no offence, of course, but the only men I have ever seen who are as pale as you either come from the steppe or the 'aradi al'ashjar.''

>Could you please stopping talking in that language?
>And what does that mean?
>You are our prisonors now, if you would be so kind as to inform your countrymen of that.
>How much is your ransom worth?
>Your lord fumbled his ambush, do you know why?
>Write-in.

>>6138243
" I am Albrecht von Adlershorst, Heir Apparent of Greifswald. You are all now my prisoners. If you act with integrity and honour you will find no harm comes to you in my care. Now, tell me where your main camp is located. For the sooner your leader is captured the sooner you will be ransomed."

>>6138243
>>6138272
+1

''I am Albrecht von Adlershorst, heir apparent of Greifswald. You are all now my prisoners. If you act with integrity and honour, you will find no harm comes to you in my care. Now, tell me where your main camp is located. For the sooner your leader is captured, the sooner you will be ransomed." You told.

''If you would please translate it for your fellows, please.'' You add.

The man looked at the ground with a resigned smile. ''Oh, believe me when I say that you won't be able to take him after today. He will flee in the night to flee Tughril's wrath at wasting so many men and at bungling what should have been a simple ambush.'' He told you in a dismissive voice. Furthermore, he chuckled. ''Bloody ironic, I suppose.''

''How so?'' You asked of him.

''Tughril only has daughters; his harem has dearly disappointed him in that matter; he only has nephews who can inherit; that, combined with a temper better left sleeping, means that all of his heirs spent their time jockeying for his favour. Or dying in some matter, usually at the hands of the Mithradians or by Tughril's executioner. This is the third, or fourth, cousin I have served. Plainly put, his failure today has effectively signed his death warrant. And considering how he has signed his death warrant, he'll hide deep in the mountains if he's lucky.'' That is interesting, but not what you asked of him.

''Very interesting, but you haven't answered my question. Where is your camp?'' You asked again.

''If you really want to know, it's half a day's march from here, over the hills in an abandoned village. Thanks to you, we only have a few archers and his cavalry escort.'' He said.

''You are rather forthcoming with that information.'' You told him.

''I am, yes. But I have my reasons for that. Tayir Alfiniq ve peygamberi beni gözetsin.'' Your hearing was good enough to know that he seemed to switch between two languages.

''Like what?'' You asked.

''That is between me, the Lord Phoenix, and his Prophet, and a few mortal men. Güzel Sultan, our great and benevolent lord above them all. But I can tell you this, Albirisht fun 'Adlirshurst.'' That sounded close enough to your name, you suppose. ''I am worth more to you alive than dead. After you have ransacked the camp, I recommend you send your ransom not to Murat Bey or Güzel Sultan, rather than Tughril Bey.''

''For what reason?'' You asked

''I cannot say yet, but know that if you do as I recommend, the effort shall be worth it.''

''Very well, I shall send you to be held in captivity in my stronghold in Trorinolis. These gentlemen shall be your escort for the duration of your travel there. Safe travels.''

The men brought out extra rope to make knots between the bound hands of the prisoners. Before set off, four horsemen and ten guards were on foot.

>>6138451
''So.''

''So?'' You asked Konrad.

''What shall we do next? After all, it's not like we came out unbloodied from that one as well. We should count our numbers, and if they prove insufficient, cut our losses and withdraw.''

''Withdraw? We have them on the run! Poppycock! We should go through with what we set out to do and reap the opening the gods have granted us.'' Adalhard said. The boy was about two years younger than you. But his crusader zeal was already showing.

''Still, we should at least make the effort to see if our losses are light or heavy. After all, if our infantry is particularly badly mauled, we shouldn't attack.'' Konrad said.

''Good point; I suppose the day nearly passed. We should probably audit whether we can sustain this campaign.'' Ehrenfried spoke in a pensive tone.

''Very well, I suppose it does make sense. I want a report on our losses by sundown.''

The report came, and though your losses weren't catastrophic, they weren't light either. At the smaller level, some units had to be merged, but all in all, you could probably do one more attack before the autumn or your losses would put an end to it.

But in the end you decided to.

>Continue marching on.
>Withdrawl back to Trorinolis

>>6138452
>>Continue marching on.

>>6138452
>Continue marching on.
Final attack.

>>6138452
>Attack

Break them

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You clapped your hands together, the sound of your armour adding to the noise. ''We shall march; we may have received a few blows, but they are far worse than we are. For that alone, we should go. When you wound a bear on the hunt, you follow its trail of blood back to its lair. Thus, we follow the wounded beast back to its lair.'' The others simply nodded in agreement.

You send the cavalry up ahead; they would scout out the whereabouts of the enemy camp and report back to you with their findings. They rode off before nightfall; if it went right, you could rendezvous with them before too long. In the meantime, you would help organise the retrieval of the last wounded; you would leave them behind as soon as you had pinned down where exactly they were located.

The journey there was mostly uneventful; it did begin to get colder, but whether that was because of the seasons or because of the attitude you didn't know. The wind picked up as you travelled, causing the temperature to drop even further. Despite the chill, spirits were high, the nectar of victory giving both you and the men a nice moral boost.

It was early one morning when you were out ahead with the vanguard; the enemy encampment had been spotted. And you wanted to see it for yourself. As the twilight and the dawn were still changing the guard. The fires of their camp were still burning, though you did see some of them being put out. It was in an old compound nestled between two mountains. There are a few complicated, however.

''That over there is their camp; it lies beyond that river over there.'' The head scout pointed to a sliver of blue-purple water that shone in the morning light. ''There is a bridge, but using it in full force could alarm them into either engaging or withdrawing if we aren't careful.''

>Ride up to the river, see if you can find a fordable place.
>Attempt to conceal your movement for the time being.
>Wait until the twilight comes again before moving the bulk of your army over the bridge.
>Write-in.

>>6138834
>Ride up to the river, see if you can find a fordable place.

>>6138834
>Ride up to the river, see if you can find a fordable place.

You rode down to the river in the early morning hours. The mist hung low over the water, creating an ethereal atmosphere as you watched the sunrise. The sound of birds chirping and the gentle flow of the river provided a sense of calm and tranquillity. The last celebration of summer, it seemed, before things would be cold, windy, wet, and grey.

''You stay here with the horses; we'll go out to find a fordable spot on the river.'' You told the squire of one of the knights.

You turned back to approach the rest of your party, one of whom gave you a long stick.

''Use it to stake into the riverbed and sound it. Aside from that, we should look for a bank that isn't too steep and a bedding that isn't unstable; if it's too steep, we'll need to lead our horses over on foot.''

And so you went on, behind the bushes and reeds that had nestled themselves along the banks of the river.

Roll a 1d100, DC 50

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>6139527

Rolled 11 (1d100)

>>6139527

Rolled 26 (1d100)

>>6139527

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You walked along the bushes and reeds; you hoped that there were no birds hiding within them, for if they saw them, you would have a problem. You eventually came upon a sandy bank, plain, and in the open with no rocks, trees, or other obstacles in the way. The ford was a good spot to cross as well, as it would be a short march across to the enemy.

''Look, the other side has a sandy bank as well; hopefully enough of the stuff has been slipped up here to make it worthwhile. Remember, if the water reaches our waist we should dismount our horses; if it reaches to our elbows we might as well swim. Try to find the edges or any holes in the ford; we might be able to recover from them, but our horses might stumble if we attempt to cross on them. '' The man who gave you the stick said.

''Let's start prodding.''

You felt the cool river water seep through your armour as you went deeper into the river. From your feet to your ankles and further up, but fortunately, it never went any further than your knees before you started to emerge from the water on the other side. You forded it back across to the other side to discuss the next steps.

''Any potholes in the ford? No? Good.'' You said, as the men also came back on land.

''I've got an idea; do any of you have any rope with you, preferably a few metres? We could use those sticks as poles, and then we can use the rope to mark the perimeter of the ford.''

''Hmm, well, I suppose it would help. Give me a few minutes. I'm going to fetch some rope from my horse.'' The knight returns a short while later with two rolls of brown braided rope, while the rest of you were busy making securing the sticks in the ground. You then made a few knots and stretched to make it remain straight.

''Well then, I believe our work is done here. Let's see if it's a good alternative for the bridge.''

By the time you had returned in full force to the river, the sun had fully emerged from behind the mountains, but your appearance in full force doesn't seem to have alerted the Mizarians all that much. But that is something that's about change

Who should be sent over the fording first?
>Send in the cavarly first.
>Have the infatry march across

>>6140106
>Have the infantry march across
but your appearance in full force doesn't seem to have alerted the Mizarians all that much
There are traps aren't there?

>>6140106
>>Send in the cavarly first.
SHOCK AND AWE

>>6140106
>>Have the infatry march across

We should establish a defensible bridgehead first, just in case

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They marched into the river, their stride breaking up the flow as they went. The men marched over the ford in a column, long and narrow. The water rushed around their footwear, splashing up against their legs as they pressed forward. The sound of their footsteps remained silent on the sandy riverbed. They soon enough came out on the other bank; they kept on marching towards the village in the distance.

By this point, the Mizarians had finally been alarmed. They are marching to form up a line of the remaining archers and prepare for the impending attack. The men continued their advance, determined to reach their destination.

The first volley comes in; some of them go down, but all in all, the heavy armour of the men proves its value yet again.

You crossed over the crossing shortly after; though Wittekind chafed under having to go into the water, he eventually relented and carried you through without a hassle.

For now, things seem to be going in your favour, even with the harassment from the archers; their lack of any serious infantry or other heavier troops works greatly to your advantage. For now, you dictate the flow of the battle.

Orders, sir?
>Have the column advance directly into their line
>Have the column speard out into a line to counter them.
>Have the cavalry brought up to charge this rabble.
>Write-in

>>6141440
>Have the column speard out into a line to counter them.
>have the cav cross behind them.

>>6141440
>Order an infantry charge!

Smash into these rabble

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1:
>Have the column speard out into a line to counter them.
>have the cav cross behind them.
2:
>Order an infantry charge!

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Time was not to be lost, not this time; you would crush this rabble permanently this time, with no delays and no withdrawals. This time, there will be absolute victory.

To that end, you ordered the sergeants to march the infantry at the fastest pace possible before charging them into the enemy line. To ensure their momentum was properly built up, the sergeants began giving the men a verbal lashing.

''Onwards, you men!''

''Get moving, you dogs!''

The soldiers responded to the sergeants' commands with a bloodthirsty howl, pushing themselves to their limits to reach the Mizarians as quickly as possible. Their armour was moving in unison, and soon enough they would make contact with each other.

Roll a 1d100 if you would please

Rolled 24 (1d100)

>>6143069

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The column smashed itself head first into the assembled line of Mizarian archery. You were aware that this would be an archer who would perform poorly against your heavily armoured and armed poleaxemen.

Any sense of formation or discipline had been expelled from their thoughts as they began hacking and slashing their way in. There would be no prisoners here, of that you were certain. The winds picked up again from a northeastern direction, bringing with it the iron smell of blood and the stench of sweat. You kept your distance for now, preferring to overlook and command from the rear, as you were the man in charge of this campaign; you shouldn't risk yourself by fighting in the front.

Though part of you had dearly wished to join them in the bloody business that is melee combat, you also knew that that was not to be. In your youth you had time for such things, adventuring and erranting across as the squire of Ehrenfried. Those were good times, yes, but they also are now starting to feel like the past, an echo of your boyhood. Yet, you knew that if you were to return to Greifswald, your old life could not be picked up again. No, you would return as the full-fledged heir of the dukedom, expected to be the ever-present and loyal heir. There would be no more adventures, no more racing Wittekind across the plains. Duty would come for you.

But you do still wonder why you came here; your faithfulness aside, of course, was it a desire to see the world before the world would demand all your time? Did you come here to leave as a boy and return as a man? Or is it the opposite? Did you come here to escape the drudgery of adulthood?

This crusade can't be all you can be remembered for; tight, the shadow of your father and, to a lesser extent, that of your great-granduncle loom large over the family legacy. What would be yours compared to your father's? Shall you be a footnote in the history of it all, only remembered as the second duke and the second crusader named Albrecht von Adlershorst? How can you slip out from under your father's shadow? Your namesake at least had to earn his place in the world, though at the price of having to pass things on to his great-nephew rather than any children of his own. But it is his sword that now rests on your belt. Is there really such a shame in being handed all you have to you by the previous generation? Was that not the natural way of things? Part of you wished to go out and carve out something on your own, but has your father not given you the foundation to build something greater with? Is that not the point of it all?

>>6143793
Perhaps you are simply overthinking things; you're a long way from home, after all, a knight in a foreign and ancient land. Long have you wandered to come here, but as the roads go ever on, no matter what, this shall be your greatest adventure, something to look back upon with a smile as time goes by. One day your feet shall turn back to home afar; you shall settle down, marry, and have children of your own.

It shall be good to see them again: father, mother, Charlotte, old grouchy Philippe, and so many others. It shall be a long journey back, over rock and grass, under trees and clouds, but you shall return one day. Who knows what fate has in store? You wonder if Mother or Father has already found a suitable bride for you. Perhaps that's something you should take into your own hands, but not here. The very thought of it: no, a Mithradian noblewoman would be not be respected on the continent, and a princess would be out of your league unless the Mithradians were truly desperate. No, love is not required in a marriage between nobles, and this is no place to ponder such things.

In the front, the lines have developed slaughter; your men wander in loose parties, culling whatever remains of the Mithradians. Only their cavalry remains for now holed up in the village.

Orders, sir?
>Round up whatever infantry still have cohesion, have them block off the village
>Order the the cavalry to charge foward and surround the village.
>Write-in

>>6143795
>Order the the cavalry to charge foward and surround the village.
>Round up the infantry to wrangle them into a formation

>>6143795
>>6144125
+1

>>6144125
>>6143795

Support this but offer then horsemen a chance to surrender.

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For the most part, it seems that you have nearly won; there is one last thing to be cleared out before you go in for the coup de grâce. The enemy cavalry is yet to be seen on the field of battle, for they are still holed up in the village, most likely. First things first, they must be cut off from a line of retreat. Then you shall keep them bottled up inside the narrow streets of the village; if they try to break out, you shall countercharge; if they stand in there, you shall starve them out.

Another thing you should take care of before anything else is wrangling the infantry back into disciplined formations. While having them descend upon the enemy as though they were a pile of violence worked wonders in decimating their lines, you now needed them back in formation for what was to come.

''Go forward and ride to surround the village. If any attempt to flee, you shall pursue; if any charge you, you shall countercharge. As for the rest of you, begin bringing the infantry back into formation; I shan't suffer the indignity of leading a rabble just yet.''

The riders set off with a great dust cloud, some bearing the colours and arms of your house, others bearing their own ancestral heraldry. Trumpets and horns are sounding, banners are flying, and horses are crying. The Greifswalder cavalry might not be as prestigious as the famed chevalier of Aurilié and Venautra, considered to be the gallant cradle and home of chivalry. But these fellows know their craft. They are good and true in what they do, patient and diligent in times of peace, vigilant and brave in times of war.

They went on, from a walk to a trot, and then the gallop. Their hooves pounded into the dry earth as they nimbly avoided the leftover fences, ditches, and sheds that dotted the land. From upon high, you could see them moving in four large blobs, who slowed down as they began to surround the village. You also saw the infantry being brought back into formation by a selection of red-faced sergeants, barking their lungs and teeth out to regain a semblance of control that they had lost after contact with the enemy. It seemed to work, as they began to slowly cluster back together.

It took about half an hour before the remaining Mizarians attempted to break out. They charged out, attempting either to lure or outrun your own cavalry. The response came in the form of a harsh clash and sent them back into the village; twice more they charged, and twice more they were beaten back in a countercharge by your own until they came out no more.

Orders sir?
>Have the cavalry dismount and clear out the houses.
>Sent in the infantry once more
>Have the cavalry ride to the street to comb them out
>Offer them a surrender.
>Give the archers some exersice.
>Write-in

>>6144813
>Offer them a surrender.
otherwise
>Give the archers some exersice.
of course if there are no civilians running about.

>>6144818
+1

Do remember to threaten them with the archers when we offer them surrender, though.

No, enough for now; there is a time and a place for everything, and now is the time for a parley. They are in the corner now; either they shall surrender or they shall die. Aside from that, their horses would be a welcome prize aside from their stacks of loot. And now seems to be the moment opportune.

The four companies of horse have been able to drive them back into the village for now, and with the crossing of the bowmen, you can easily deal with them if you wanted to; about four minutes of peppering the village with arrows would probably do the job, followed by torching the buildings if necessary, a brute but effective method that the chaplain has assured you is justified by their heathenism. But much like a tournament, or trial by combat, the losing party should at least be entitled to an opportunity to yield. After all, the proverbial blade is already on their throat, so you might as well follow tradition and give them a formal offer to yield the field of battle.

But to do that, you will need to send a negotiator, a volunteer at that, and someone who can speak Mithradian. Thankfully, one of the more well-read knights has already offered to deliver terms to the enemy. With a limit of expiration of two hours.

''And if they either don't come out or he doesn't return after two hours, you will deliver them death. In the meantime, move forward and take up positions that have advantages for shooting. The negotiator will make it clear that failure to comply will result in severe consequences; failure to comply will most certainly be dealt with in the harshest terms, which is why it is up to you to make certain that if things go awry, they won't live to tell it. That is all; now take up your positions.'' You told the archers' officers.

The negotiator had his lance fitted with a large white cloth, which would serve as a sign of willingness to talk; he slowly rode off toward the small village, and one could only hope that the cooler heads within the enemy camp could prevail over whatever fanatics or diehards were among them.

-Roll a 1d100 to see how the negations will turn out.-

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>6146047

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>6146047

Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>6146047

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You saw the rider going off; he became smaller and smaller as he began to close in on the village. Soon enough, he disappeared behind the buildings within the boundaries of said village. In the meantime, the archers began to march to their designated position.

The early autumn winds began winding down, allowing the summer to, once more, make the tension feel palpable. Half an hour passed before the negotiator came back out again.

Underneath your helm and coif, you could feel the sweat slowly trickle down as the minutes passed. The man came back to you; quiet disappointment was upon his face.

''Your opposite number has declared that, though he finds your magnanimity admirable, he shall not accept. He has declared that, to redeem himself in the eyes of both his uncle and the lord Phoenix, master of the universe. He shall pay for his failures and cowardice with his own life if need be, but he shan't be made to undergo the final humiliation of being taken prisoner by the infidel.'' Tension thus gave way to sombre silence, a pity, but his willingness to atone makes it a less bitter thing.

''That is… disappointing, to say the least. But very well, we shall let the ultimatum expire, let us hope that they will change their minds.'' You told him and the other men surrounding you.

Time came to a crawl; silence truly began to settle across the land; even the birds stopped singing. You could hear your heartbeat every so now and then; it sounded like the banging of the drum. You remained stiff upon your horse as the minutes crawled by at a turtle's pace.

As the sun reached the agreed position, the silence was broken. Across the lines, officers began to bark for the archers to prepare to give volley fire. The next sound was the cocking of the bows and crossbows, then the sky above the village darkened.

Great bundles of arrows were sent flying into the village, descending upon it like a murder of crows. Here and there you could hear the screams of men and horses alike as the archers let loose another barrage. But then, after the third volley, when the bowmen were reloading, you could hear them coming out again.

These men were driven on by lashes of their masters, it would seem. Like they were a completely different calibre than before. Was it desperation, or perhaps hope, that edged them on? It would matter not; here they would die.

Roll a 1d100 (DC 40) to see if your cavalry can keep them inside the village.

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>6146771
Here's hoping

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>6146771

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>6146771
Fuck we spread our forces too forwards. should have had some cav in reserve.

>>6146847
nevermind roll solved it :)

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They came in riding hard, spurring their horses on to the breaking point as they made a daring charge at a company of your cavalry. The sound of their war cries echoed through the valley; their strange gurgling language made you want to put wax in your ears; their banners were either inscribed with phrases in their script or other symbols.

If they got out, they could easily slip from your grasp once more, and that was not something you would like to see.

Thankfully, it would seem that the commander of that particular company is aware of the grave danger he is in. And before you knew it, they were countercharging. Brave, but unless something else is done, you doubt that you can stop all of them.

Then, you spot something: the other cavalry units are on the move! Thank the gods and saints for their initiative; they themselves also rode through the village, beginning to close in upon the advancing enemy.

At first, they crashed into each other, and a glorious melee would soon develop between the two units of horsemen, but that was not to be. For like the hammer upon the anvil, the other horsemen and knights came upon the back and flanks of the enemy.

With the encirclement complete, the horsemen began closing the nets upon their foe. Slowly but steadily they whittled down the remaining enemy until there were none left to stand or fight. Whoever could no longer fight had their throats cut; their horses, or at least those gravely injured, were put out of their misery as well.

You made your entrance into the village late in the afternoon. For what it was worth, it wasn't an impressive place to live in; here and there, the clutter, baggage, and waste of your enemy were found here and there.

You had made note that the men could 'salvage' whatever they found within the enemy camp, as long as you could get your hands on the hoard of loot that these raiders have accumulated, as well as their provisions, of course.

You found your reward in the basement of the old church, which had been converted into a makeshift warehouse by the infidels. With their provisions where the pews should be and their loot in the undercroft.

For the most part, there's much in terms of raw money; most of it consists of jewellery or other precious metals and gems that would need to be weighed before they could be sold. That didn't mean there weren't some coins, of course, a palpable sum, which would add nicely to your balance. The most unique thing wasn't something you found in the hoard, but in the home of one of where the enemy general might have lived. A vase with neat geometric patterns and depictions of peacocks and palm trees. You had promised your younger sister that you would bring something back home for her, and this would fit nicely.

You made your way back to Trorinolis, just in time for the autumn rains to truly begin. The campaigning season was over.

>>6147318
When you travelled back through the countryside, you had noticed that things were slowly beginning to improve. Under the oversight of the local garrison, the prisoner you had taken had cleared good chunks of land for agriculture once more. And though the growing season was now over, the farmers and shepherds had moved back to their homesteads. For now, agriculture could return to its natural tranquillity. As long as you could keep the raiders from coming back next season, of course.

The Eparch thanked you for your efforts and would mention your contributions in his next report to the Emperor. Trorinolis itself had recovered as well, with much of the destitution driven back into the slums. Your base in the old citadel had been given a new set of plaster and paint for the interior, and the chimneys had been cleaned for the winter as well. As you returned to your room to take a quick nap in a proper bed for the first time in weeks. An older knight you had left behind to oversee training and renovations approached you in the corridor. He handed you a set of letters.

''These came in while you were away, my lord. Two of them bear seals; the third one only has your name on it in Mithradian. I shall leave them in your care.''

You took them and continued on to your chamber; you shifted through them once or twice. The Mithradian one did indeed have your name on it, and the other two letters did indeed have their seals on them. One bears a cross fleury, presumably from a knightly order or the other; whoever it was, it at least wasn't the order of the Argent Star. The other bears two lions passant. Both had the problem of being red from the wax, and thus their associated colour wasn't present.

>Open the Mithradian letter first
>Open the one with Cross Fleury
>Break the seal depicting the two lions.

>>6147319
>Open the Mithradian letter first
>Open the one with Cross Fleury
>Break the seal depicting the two lions.
Just look at all of them. (take your time to write all this stuff though QM, cause I got a feeling this will be an info dump.)

>>6147327
>>6147319
I agree, just dump them all out QM and we can sort through how we want to deal with them all.

>>6147319
I think >>6147327
is right we will go through them all eventually why not do it in one and have a multi answer vote at the end for those of them that require it

You shuffle the letters one more time before you open the door to your chamber. Walking in, you put the letters on the desk while you retrieved your paper knife.
You put the two sealed letters at the top, and you opened the unmarked letter before laying it down upon the slanted part of the desk. This letter had seen the most wear and was probably a few months old. As you unfold the letter, it becomes clear that whoever wrote it had knowledge of Tauten, for while the envelope was written in Mithradian, the letter itself was written in Tauten, with precise, nearly mechanical perfection of the script. Though you hadn't spoken with Eleftherios since you had left Elisnikon, his handwriting was recognisable.
You began to read.

To my student,

I do hope this letter finds you in good health; the autumn and winters are hazardous for anyone, especially the elderly. Though you are still youthful in both mind and body, that doesn't make you immune to the elements that so taunt man whenever he finds himself outside, but I digress.

You have caused quite the stir, you know. Elisnikon is awash with rumours and intrigue after it was revealed that Celephas Maniakes had disappeared. Though it took me quite a while to get on your trail, I finally caught wind of your whereabouts when you got to Trorinolis. I told you before that you should attempt to either take him prisoner or to deliver his head to the Emperor. I now see that that might have been a bit shortsighted of me. Not only that, but I had discounted that Prokopios might retaliate, or at least I underestimated either his ability or his willingness to do so.
I don't know what you did with Celephalas, or if you had anything to do with it. But the emperor's eldest son and intended heir was murdered when an assailant threw him off his horse. The circumstances are unclear, but it appears Alexandros was convinced to leave the safety of his bodyguard for a while on a hunting trip. With him dead, Anastasios's other sons will be in line. Georgios is a drunken whoremonger, only good for riding his horse on parade. The others are too young to be considered. There is blood in the water, Albrecht, and the sharks are on their way. Anastasios has already begun to purge whatever noble families have been implicated in the murder. Several city palaces have already been burnt down. The Varangians are brutalising the upper parts of the city as I am writing this. But Prokopios remains on the loose, but I can't help shaking off the feeling that the Castanans are up to something as well. They keep disappearing and reappearing with more ships than when they leave for their patrols.

>>6147733
In more fortuitous news, my half-year ban on entering the state archives has expired. I have been able to study something about the valley of Edoxonia you find yourself in. The records mention that the Emperor Titus Isidoricus suppressed a rebellion here, most harshly, I might add. The record, written by a Gneaus Ursius Pulcher. Mention rows of crucifixions along the roads that lasted for at least five kilometres. Afterward, it became a retreat for the very same emperor. Who had built a palace somewhere within the valley. The location of this palace has been lost to us. Though it was apparently a marvel of its time, filled to the brim with knowledge, both magical and mundane. The sources mention that it is built as a hexagon, with six towers on each point and a large tower in the centre.
Normally, I would dismiss this as a lost fairy tale. But then I found a poem, you see; the Isidorians liked hiding their most treasured belongings behind poems, that is. In their will, they would leave behind a poem describing where one could find their treasures. According to tradition, this was to ensure that their valuables ended up in the hands of the worthy.

The poem reads as follows.
In twilight realms, where time’s whispers fade,
Amidst the misty veil that shrouds the past,
A hidden valley beckons, softly made,
To those who seek the ancient lore at last.

The palace stands, a testament of old,
Where mystic wisdom dwells, and secrets sleep,
Built by a sorcerer-emperor bold,
Who wove the fabric of time, his magic deep.

Through labyrinthine halls, where shadows play,
Echoes of forgotten knowledge stray,
And whispers of a long-lost era say,
That those who find this place shall seize the day.

But few may reach this hallowed ground, for fate
Reserves its paths for those who dare pass the gate.
I have reason to believe that there is a way to reach this palace in the mountains. As the records also state that the cult of the timekeeper was popular here, if you want to go treasure hunting. Make certain that the statues are of either an old, hooded man with a beard or a skeleton with an hourglass; those two are how this pagan figure was usually depicted.
That is all I wish to tell you, though I might request that you offer me shelter in case things truly go awry.
I remain,
Eleftherios.

>>6147734
You weren't certain what you should make of it. That Maniakes was scheming wouldn't surprise you; whatever the Castanans were up to was, it is beyond your reach. And that part about the palace would be nice if it were peace, though it may be worth spending time on now that campaigning won't start properly until next year. The cynic in you wished to dismiss it as the delusions of an old man. But you decided to keep it in mind.

You next opened the letter with the seal of a cross.

To whom it may concern, we are the Knights Cognisant, a special knightly order created by the holy pontiff to procure, extract, safeguard, and curate the various holy and unholy artefacts that littered around the world. I am writing this letter to you, the various leaders of the crusading armies, to let you know we are not to drive back the infidel like our brothers in the other orders. But to save whatever knowledge and lore we can. We warn you all that interfering with this holy mission will lead to grave actions against you. You may recognise us by our light blue robes and the white cross fleury. We wish you the very best in combat against the foe.

I remain your obedient servant,

Gilbert de Gramat, Commander in the Knights Cognisant.

Of all the knightly orders to send you a letter, you get the one from Portemosa's pet archaeologists, and burglars too if you believe the slander. They do useful work; they keep things too dangerous for any man, dwarf, or elf to hold deep in a vault. But that doesn't mean that is all they do; they sometimes attempt to claim harmless family heirlooms. Your eyes had immediately shifted over to Silberkralle when you had read the name; that was something those magpies would also be interested in claiming. But they aren't here yet, so you opened the final letter.

The contents of which suddenly made you feel the deepest form of disgust.

To anyone who shall read this, salutations.

We, Raymond, Duke of Montpelerin, the most valiant and brave knight of the Kingdom of Aurilie, do write to you all in a state of dismay and urgency. In an act of great cruelty and betrayal. The vile Mithradian emperor and his corrupt officials denied us the taking of multiple cities; thus, we, in conference with our lords and most loyal and beloved vassals and knights, have thus found common cause. We do hereby acclaim Raymond as the first king of the first crusader state founded in centuries. The kingdom of Amaliona is hereby proclaimed. King Raymond shall be coronated on the first day of winter. Any and all men with a righteous heart may attend.

Long live King Raymond!

Long live Amaliona!

What followed was a list of other lords who denounced the Mithradians and pledged allegiance to their new king. If you were eighty years older, you might have gotten a heart attack. If you were Mithradian, you would have torn up the letter in anger over this.

>>6147736
There really is blood in the water, and Montpelerin smelt it first. When you first got here, there was a lot of enthusiasm; now you must walk a rope to avoid being snatched by the Mithradians, Montpelerin, and the infidel. While there are many things you now like to do or say, for now you can at least write a response.

>Write a letter denouncing Montpelerin
>Eleftherios has a contact within the palace; I can write a letter to him asking him to pass over a letter for the emperor. By contacting him, I might keep myself in the clear.
>Test the waters for now; write to the other big crusader leaders in the north. Castelanne, Marlwick, and Westerlasse haven't opened their mouths yet; mayhaps you can find common cause with them?
>Keep silent; by remaining in obscurity, they won't notice you.
>write to the doge, he is main naval power in the region, and might make or break Raymonds startup kingdom.
>write-in.

>>6147737
Hmmm, I'm not sure *what*, but i feel like we probably should do something, no? Being silent is not a good idea...

>>6147737
>Eleftherios has a contact within the palace; I can write a letter to him asking him to pass over a letter for the emperor. By contacting him, I might keep myself in the clear.
>Test the waters for now; write to the other big crusader leaders in the north. Castelanne, Marlwick, and Westerlasse haven't opened their mouths yet; mayhaps you can find common cause with them?
We do not denounce the guy yet, but write letters to others along the lines of:"What the actual fuck? you guys seeing this bullshit? We came here to fight the infidel not conquer our allies."

>>6147854
silence is indeed dumb. I think sending some letters communicating with others who don't such dumb decisions as those "Amalionans" did.

>>6147737
>Write a letter denouncing Montpelerin
>write to the doge, he is main naval power in the region, and might make or break Raymonds startup kingdom.

Time to pick a side and claim us a Princess boys. We are not simpering politicizing nobleman, we are a warrior of god.

>>6147737
>Eleftherios has a contact within the palace; I can write a letter to him asking him to pass over a letter for the emperor. By contacting him, I might keep myself in the clear.
>Test the waters for now; write to the other big crusader leaders in the north. Castelanne, Marlwick, and Westerlasse haven't opened their mouths yet; mayhaps you can find common cause with them?

This, this is certainly something. You slowly began crushing the parchment of Montpelerin's letter in your hand. This angered you; he angered you, and you weren't even an affected party in this matter. You held the letter over a candle to burn it. Before resting your face in the palm of one of your hands.

This wasn't anger, no. It was something far more bitter than blind anger; it was disappointment in your fellow crusaders, supposed to be the most pious and vigilant of all the Curia's faithful, yet as susceptible to the common temptations of greed and ambition.

Were you in any other place, at any other time, you would have ridden down to Raymond de Montpelernin and challenged him to a duel, or another act to rid this land of his presence. But you are in a foreign land; your father can't back you here. Your only real ally, were you to undertake this now, would be a Mithradian state that seems nearly comatose. Thus, you must embark on this action by quill and ink, not the sword.

First things first, you need to electrify the Mithradian government into mobilising against this threat while the court and the emperor might be reeling from the recent assassinations. This is not the time to tarry; if you can get them to act, Raymond won't be calling himself King in the open air very soon.

Second, you obtain real, credible allies with the crusaders. While you haven't really spoken with Castelanne, Marlwick, and Westernesse, you can contact them sooner than Montpelerin can, though you should take care to go all in on denouncing Montpelerin. The waters here are muddy as far as diplomatic relations between the five of you are concerned. Castelanne is from Aurilie, as Montpelerin is, so he might bend to him on nationality alone; the same could also be said of Westernesse for you. Marlwick would be the wildcard in this, being from Angenland; he has no real cultural or national ties to either of your nations. Aside from descending from Aurilién noble stock, the Angenlander nobility is perhaps the last people on this earth who would like to be reminded of their kinship with them. That would mean that for now, things are level.

This evening you would write five letters, one for Eleftherios and one for his contact within the palace. Three letters would be sent to Castelanne, Marlwick, and Westernesse expressing your concern with what is happening in the south, considering how what this is not what either the Pontiff nor his cardinals had agreed upon. Your case could be considered a good one.

If you can get them together and convince them of it. You could form a front that could make Montpelerin stand down. But cajoling them all together would take time, so for now you simply open dialogue with them. Your last act before slipping into a dream was to seal the envelopes with a seal of your own.

>>6148531

Come the next day, you see the couriers off before returning inside. While the autumns are certainly warmer than they were in Greifswald, on bad days they can be just as wet. For now, things, aside from the 'Montpelerin affair', as some had dubbed it, were stable. The supply situation has been stabilised for soldiers and civilians alike. Sure, the iron mines wouldn't be properly open to attack until the thawing and drying of the soil, but in terms of food and new wood, things were stable. Sightings of Mizarian parties had dropped to below the point of a threat. And as long as someone remained on one side of the river, you could live in relative peace.

For now, you remain the head of an army that has been bolstered with local Mithradains, who have already replaced your own losses in the last campaign. There is much you can do with the remainder of them, and you have enough time on your hands to do some old-fashioned adventuring with Ehrenfried and the lads.

Choose an activity for the army to do.

>Repairing and fortifying Trorilonis and its citadel.
>Begin training the Mithradian conscripts in a modernised version of the Phalanx.
>Start planning a few raiding parties of your own, mostly targeting food stocks and granaries.

Choose a personal activity.

>Follow the hints Eleftherios sent you; perhaps it might be worth something.
>Go on a scouting mission to the iron mines.
>Make a trip to the Athos acropolis to see if there is anything worth taking.
>Though it might be dangerous, start mapping out mountain trails.

>>6148532
>Begin training the Mithradian conscripts in a modernised version of the Phalanx.
mobile reserve forces
>Follow the hints Eleftherios sent you; perhaps it might be worth something.
ok I'll take the mystery box.

>>6148532
>Begin training the Mithradian conscripts in a modernised version of the Phalanx.
Also drill the rest of the army, chip away at the lack of discipline displayed these last few engagements.

>Follow the hints Eleftherios sent you; perhaps it might be worth something.

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One of the more interesting things about warfare is the ability to do some field testing of various tactics, formations, and doctrines. One of the more problematic things you have noticed is that when the lines of infantry make contact with the foe, they usually break down into a band of violent murderers, preferring to take on the enemy one by one rather than advancing as a formation. In antiquity, instead of levies, men-at-arms, and mercenaries, the Isidorian Empire had a professional army divided into legions, consisting of permanent, salaried soldiers. Even before that, the early Isidorian and the old Mithradian made use of citizen-soldiers. Something that the urban militias in the cities of the modern day have copied with some success.

You couldn't copy the Isidorian legions; you have neither the resources nor the financial backing to raise such a force, but you can revive another formation that has been relegated since the introduction of the stirrup. In the Mithras of old, city-states would train their citizens to fight in a formation of long pikes. The phalanx could be an effective tool if properly guarded on its flanks, and because the heavily armoured legionnaires with their scuta wouldn't make a return any time soon, they won't be there to counter them.

Metallurgy has also advanced since those times, so you can equip with more for less; aside from that, you have the instructors drill the men in the art of formation fighting and see if it was possible to charge on foot while maintaining a formation, and come to think of it, the pikemen would compliment your poleaxemen quite well.

Eleftherios is a funny old man, perhaps one of the few Mithradians who ever bothered travelling beyond his home shores, his word probably the most trustworthy you shall get from a Mithradian. Father liked to tell you bedtime stories about how he once found an elven tower in the middle of the forest, and while delving into long-forgotten halls and dungeons is something usually handed over to the ever-eager and expandable adventures, that doesn't mean that the aristocracy doesn't consider it a quaint pastime. As a matter of fact, finding some ancient artefact or weapon or other object to put on display in one's castle home or manor might be one of the most aristocratic things there is. And beside that, it's time for some personal adventuring.

The first thing you do is visit the local library for any mention of this old timekeeper figure. While it isn't what you would call a great library, its contents are old enough to be worth your time. In particular, an old accounting scroll, which stipulates in both Isidorian and Mithradian that the liturgies for the temple of the Custodis Temporis must be brought to the temple overlooking a mountain named the 'Eternity Peak,' supposedly the tallest mountain in the region.

>>6148960
Consulting with the map you got, you concluded that this mountain is about five days riding away; it lies at the end of a smaller valley that you can enter from the north. It is a quieter part of this land. And as such has not been touched by the war.

You had been riding over roads, grass, and trails, by streams and villages. The humidity of the rains ended the dust clouds of the horses, and you were thankful that you could stay at an inn for the one night that it was storming.

''So tell me.'' Ehrenfried asked of you while eating a piece of mutton the innkeeper had served you with a side dish of some strange dairy product you weren't certain of. ''What exactly are you expecting to find in the summer home of this emperor? For all we know, it merely was his favourite hunting lodge, and there is nothing to find except bones and skulls of dead animals.''

''I disagree; I think it hosts a great library, filled with lost knowledge that could be of use to us.'' Konrad said with a motion of his cup.

You haven't thought of that; part of you simply wanted to do something else than sitting out the autumn and winter in Trorinolis, part of it was simple human curiosity. What do you expect to find there?
>A weapon, great and terrible, enough to end this conflict in our favour in a single afternoon.
>Treasure of course! You can't never have enough money for when you need to pay for supplies
>I seek answers for things in the past. I have never seen a Isidorian palace from the inside.
>Whatever is in there, it will be worth the search, just you wait and see.

>>6148963
>Whatever is in there, it will be worth the search, just you wait and see.

>>6148963
Since the word being used is "expect".
>Whatever is in there, it will be worth the search, just you wait and see.

''Whatever is in there, it will be worth the search; just you wait and see.'' You said in a tone half serious, half self-mockery. Your sense of curiosity had overpowered any sense of scepticism that had been within you; finding treasure among ruins was one thing, but entering and exploring an intact palace of the greatest empire that had ever existed, now that was something rare. Finding it alone would merely etch, but engrave your name in history. A prize the likes of which could not be surpassed for another millennium.

That night, while you were upon a straw bed covered with homespun. You dreamt of walking among the senators and tribunes, of seeing legionnaires on parade, strolling along grand galleries of pillars, arches, and other marvels of architecture. Ah, the Isidorian Empire, the cornerstone of western civilization. At the height of the empire, mighty sorcerers wrought great marvels from the mountains themselves. Great legions marched with auxiliaries of battlemages and flying pegasi and griffons. Then the world was young; in those days, magic was more common, elves more numerous, dwarves less reclusive, and man had built an empire capable of not merely subjugating the other races but integrating them as well. But it was not to last; the empire was gutted and then deprived of its imperial line by the witch-king, though the last emperor was deified for efforts and martyrdom, the empire had effectively fallen. Though it stumbled on for a while, led by an increasingly corrupt and hedonistic class of senators.

You dreamt further. You pictured yourself wearing the toga and the laurel leaves, for you imagined yourself the emperor for a while. Would you have been able to save the empire? Probably not, but it felt good to dream about. For was that not the dream of every Curian? To restore the empire that had given birth to their faith? An empire of steel and marble, rather than kingdoms of bricks.

You left early in the morning, a statement made harder with the shortening of the days. The cold wind shrieked past you and your party as you rode on over the old roads and up the ridge. You would spend a long time ascending and descending. And then you found it.

You gleaned upon a valley great and tranquil, for not even the autumn with its harsh winds and storms could tarnish its beauty. The little villages that dotted the landscape were like jewels scattered across a tapestry; here the shepherds and farmers have been left to their own devices, and it would seem they have adapted wonderfully. You rode on until you saw the peak of eternity.

Proud and high, unmoving, unaging, shimmering its white tip high over the world. It has stood here long before you came and will remain here long after you leave.

>>6149542
The temple itself had long since fallen into ruin, scrapped and repurposed. Intact, it would have been like many other old temples: oblong, with a tympanum, a row of pillars, and a frieze. But now, all that remained were remnants of its former glory, scattered among the overgrown vegetation. You spoke not a word with the others; you ascended the steps first.

And there, upon three pedestals, stood three figures; all three were as black as soot. In the centre stood a long figure in a cloak, a hood over his head; he frowned down at the ground. In his right hand he held a staff, like the ones you could see a mage using. His left hand was extended in a judging manner, something accentuated by his two aides.

Two skeletons, who seemed far more lively than their master, one held an hourglass in his hand, the other scales. These two looked down with their mocking, skeletal smiles and empty eye sockets.

''Well, where do we start?'' Adalhard asked of you.

''Knock on the pedestals and the stones; try to see if there is anything hollow under them.'' You told him.

And so the lot you began, you held your ear close to the marble and the other stones before knocking on them with your hand, though one of your friends decided to do it with a hammer instead.

After about half an hour, this method seemed to be getting nowhere. You find nothing, and the usual frustrations soon begin expressing themselves. In particular, with the hammerer.

''Give us your damn secrets, you stupid statue!'' And he struck the hourglass with the hammer.

To your surprise, neither the hammer nor the hourglass broke, but the hourglass turned on its head, and a click was heard.

''Wait a second, maybe the answer is in the statues, not the foundations. If I were to tamper with the scales…'' Ehrenfried said as he placed two stones upon each scale.

The scales tipped, though not in either direction; it instead slumped down. And before you knew it, a hidden entrance was beginning to open itself around the statue of the old man.

''Gentlemen, I suggest we go in.'' You said with an eager grin upon your face. You returned to the horses for some torches and then descended into the basement of the temple.

For the most part, it was uneventful. An empty corridor where dust was left to gather for who knows how long. Before you reached a dead end at last, or at least, a closed door.

''There seems to be an inscription upon this door, in Isidorian.'' you said as you blew off the dust.

This thing all things devours;
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Gnaws iron, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones to meal;
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats mountain down.

A riddle, one which must be solved if you wished to press on.
>Make a educted guess. [roll a 1d100, DC 50]
>Evil
>Death
>Time
>The Sun

>>6149544
>Time
It's the only one that really makes sense with the whole riddle.

Sun doesn't fit at all and Evil and Death kinda work with all the living beings but doesn't make sense with metals and rock.

>>6149544
>Time

>>6149544
>Time

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Time, of course, you were in a temple dedicated to a being called 'the timekeeper.' The temporal motives from that one skeleton with the hourglass also came back to you. This one was quite obvious.

''Time, the answer is time, obviously. Hmm, it doesn't seem to open. What is the Isidorian word for time again? Tempus, if I believe right?''

As if at word of command, the heavy stone slabs revealed themselves to open into a long, narrow slit of a corridor, dark and gloomy with a faint glow at the other end.

Your steps reverberated heavily upon the floor as you strode over the hallway. Heavens know what is at the other end. Part of you had hoped that it would be a simple stroll through a tunnel and then to the palace, yet you knew that there would be more trouble up ahead. A sense of dread began to hang over the lot of you, for you began to hear the dripping of water where there was no water and the breezes of wind while you were deep underground.

The air grew colder and harder. Most of you had already put your hands on your weapons. Most of you had expected something, a horde of animated skeletons? The ghosts of the pagan priests that had been this place's guardians? Or perhaps something far, far more sinister than the shadows of the past. But nothing did come, or at least not something that could be killed. It began as a whisper, a faint voice echoing through the darkness, growing louder and more urgent with each passing moment. The words were in Isidorian but were pronounced in a manner long considered dead.

Ad inveniendum in tenebris semitam tuam, debes exstinguere lucem tuam!

A particularly hard wind then came over you and blew out the torches. Quickly, the room went dark, and you couldn't see your companions any more. You opened your mouth to speak, but the voice spoke up again.

Ad chart avia, solus ire necesse est!

You called out to them; each name you called out, but no reply came. The darkness had separated you, it seemed. You must carry on, without friends or without light. You walked on regardless; you wouldn't let this temple subdue you that easily, nor would you give up on your friend that easily. As you came closer to the end, the voice once more boomed with such power you were nearly knocked off your feet.

Ad inveniendum ineffabilem, via inambulabili ingredi debet!

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>>6149964
You walked into a room, cold and grey, where the pale statues looked down on you as princes did on their subjects.

There were three pairs of statues; on the left stood a man and woman, young and vigorous; the dame was dainty and thin, with an elegant little face and big eyes. Her pose straddled between one of a proper young lady and that of an elusive noblewoman. The man was clad in the armour of yore, holding a sword in his hand; his eyes had a hunter's focus in them, and he had a hard, angular face.

The next pair was of a matronly, middle-aged woman; she looked good for her age and wore a veil on the back of her head. The man here wore the toga and laurel wreath of an emperor. His face had grown even more angular here, though the worries of his duty had begun to etch itself in his countenance.

The last pair was old and tired. The woman had a gentle smile on her weathered face, her head now completely covered with a veil. While the man's eyes held a lifetime of wisdom and experience, though the weariness of age had begun to truly take its toll upon his face, and in his hand he held an orb as pale as snow.

Choose…. To go where thy wishes to go, thou must choose. That was in Isidorian, but it was intelligble to you this time. How strange.

>Walk under the arch of the young pair.
>Walk under the arch of the middleaged couple
>Go under the arch of the elderly pair.

>>6149967
I think the youth and elderly was mentioned when we couldn't understand it.
>Walk under the arch of the middleaged couple
So middle it is. other anon's correct me if I made a mistake.

>>6149967
>Walk under the arch of the young pair.

>>6149967
>To find your way in the dark, you must turn off your light!
>At the grandmother's chart, you need to go alone!
>To find the unspeakable, one must enter the impassable road!
Im stumped by this one honestly.

>>6149999
What do you meam by that? Are you talking about the dream in >>6149542?

>>6151427
Let me clarify

>To find your way in the dark, you must turn off your light!
Means: To find your way in the dark, Thou must extinguish thy light
>At the grandmother's chart, you need to go alone!
Means: To chart the uncharted, thou must walk alone.
>To find the unspeakable, one must enter the impassable road!
Means: To search the unsearchable, one must tread the untrodden path

>>6151427
Welp I wrongly translated the latin part then.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

A tie, time to roll.
1: The middle-aged couple
2: Young pair

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Through the centre, through the arch of the middle-aged couple, you hope to find the way to the hidden palace.

What little light there was in these strange halls disappeared as you went deeper and deeper into the cold corridor. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear, not even the voice that had nearly knocked you off your feet.

Yet sound returned, not in the form of laughter or conversation, but in the form of wind. Then the stars came out, which was strange, for you were sure it was still morning when you entered this strange land.

The stars were all around you, at your side and above you, even below you. But when you looked down, you found that you weren't walking, you were falling, and falling deeply, for you saw a great ball of light, which at first you thought was the sun, but it became clearer that it was the earth you were now falling to. As you recognised the shapes from the maps.

You weren't sure how you got here, or what the intentions were when this thing was built, but you wanted out.

Then the voice came again, clearer this time, aristocratic and crisp.

''To see the unseen, thou must transcend mortal sight. Look not with thy eyes from the ground, but a from above, as the sun looks down upon us all.''
Surprisingly, you could understand that part, though you had no idea what the voice meant.
''Choose, close in upon the land thy wishes to survey''
Close in upon the land, what? Does he mean that you should choose a country to look at, do you need to think about it, or do you need to say the name of the land you wish to see? It might be worth a try though.

Select a country you wish to see
>Mithras
>Greifswald
>Tautenland
>Castana
>Somewhere else (Write-in option for a place on the map)

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>>6151763
The map

>>6151763
>Mithras
We are after all in these lands and it is quite important for our survival and success to get good intel.