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>>6173829
And as always, the damn things always lie where you think you had already searched, twice. Under some old rusty pliers and a soot-stained apron, you found the key, a hexagonal seal, it seemed to you. Lined with gold and made of a material you weren't sure you knew. As per usual, there is the usual Imperial symbolism; the laurel leaves and the eagle prominently feature. But in the centre age, an anvil is engraved, upon which a hammer is striking. Which sent lightning bolts flying from it. It was small enough to hold in your hands, but only with the tips of your fingers holding it in place upon the palm of your hand. It was quite heavy, too, so you quickly brought it over to the anvil slot.

It fits; that much it does, but alas, while the form is correct, the hexagon itself won't fall nicely in place.

''So close, yet the builders of this place seem to thwart me once more. Why, for the sake of the leaves in Greifswald, won't it fit?'' You said out loud that the more verbal expressions of frustration, you kept behind your tongue for now. Wait a minute, you thought. What if it was made to be that way? Only being able to be put in place by force, the force of, say, a smith's hammer. It would be worth a try, though you didn't know if the one you grabbed from one of the tables would last beyond the first strike.

And it didn't; with the first strike, the ancient wood of the handle split in twain. Improving, you grabbed the metal head of the hammer to make it fit that way, and after a few short hits with the metal, you made it fit.

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>>6173832


The gem in it lighted up, as the precious metals on the anvil started to warm up; it glowed with a red-golden colour, which would have burnt any touched, so you refrained from doing so.

In the centre of the hall, a being was taking form, of the same blue hue that the Vilicus was coloured with. It was a short man, a dwarf rather, with a long white beard and a black apron covering his white tunic.

''Grungi, no sorry, Grungurius, master smith, of all varieties, at your service. Be ye guest or resident, I can make and repair anything to do with metal, gold, tin, steel, adamantium, or mithral. I can forge, melt, and decorate any and all weapons, armour, and jewellery you may bring.''

He looked around the hall and to the rooms where the coals and firewood for the furnaces were kept. ''Though you might want to consider foraging for fuel first,'' he remarked.

>Greetings to you, master Grungri.
>Can't I simply cut down the trees outside?
>Is there no magical source to fuel the forges?
>Write-in.

>>6173835
>>Greetings to you, master Grungri.
yo!

>>6173835
>Greetings to you, master Grungri.
Random magical smith? hell yeah.

>>6173835
>>Greetings to you, master Grungri.

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There was no need for you to enquire about such details as the fuel reserves just yet. Yours was a busy schedule, yes, but it doesn't mean certain pleasantries aren't to be practised.

''Greetings to you, master Grungri. I am, as always, pleased to meet one such a skilled craftsman as you are. It has often been said that your people, the children of the mountains, are amongst the greatest of all smiths. Though at present I have no commissions for you, I am certain that I shall call upon your expertise some time in the future," you told the transparent blue dwarf.

''You are most kind to bestow such praise upon me, Your Lordship, in spite of the fact most of my work lies rusted upon the floor of this very hall. But spare me the compliments. If my boss has told you anything about our nature, you should know how we aren't susceptible to such things," he said.

''Indeed he did, though you seem to have enough talk in you to deceive me in that regard,'' you answered in reply.

Then came a moment of silence; both of you seemed to be at a loss as to what to discuss next. Show you decided to instead show him your heirloom sword, Silberkralle, or Silverclaw.''

''Master smith, I would like for you to examine my sword, for it has been quite some time since it has been inspected by a proper smith. It is a mithral blade, so by its very nature it shouldn't dull or rust.'' You drew the blade and laid it before him on the anvil.

You saw the eyes of the old smith lighten up as he bowed over the exposed sword. ''Ah, you could make two gladii from the amount that went into this blade. The mithril itself is devoid of any impurities and is as sharp as the day its maker plunged it into the water to cool off. Hhhmmm, the crossguard has been decorated with a silvered eagle, has it? Let's see what else; the balance is most splendid, though the leather grip of the hilt may need to be rebound soon; a piece of it has come loose, you see. May I? He asked

''Sure,'' you answered.

In spite of his somewhat thick fingers, he seemed to handle the removal of the grip with great skill and grace. He held a piece of it close to his nose and sniffed. ''Cow's leather, good enough; I once got to make a hilt for a tribune's sword with crocodile leather, possibly the most unique thing I ever held in my career.''

''What's a crocodile?'' You asked.

''A big reptile, which looks a bit like a dragon if you squint, has no wings, nor can it breathe fire; they live in the rivers of Kahement and further down south.''

''Have you ever seen one?''

''No, the governor of Kahement told me when he came to commission the hilt. And—ah, someone left an inscription beneath the grip, in Elvish it seems.'' He looked at the exposed metal with curiosity.

''Can you read it?'' You asked

>>6174277
''Son, I have been reading this type of thing for a long time; every so once in a while, the Elven or Dwarven auxiliaries came along and asked me or some other unlucky sod to etch words or runes in their armour or weapons. By the end of my career, I had become a polyglot. In the written word at least, because all members of the legions are to speak Isidorian when on the job. Anyway, it reads: Nin mel an cin shall n- uireb, na cin, im on- cin hi magol, Arth-Galad. Which roughly means: My love for you shall be eternal, to you, I give you this sword, Arth-Galad. Who Arth-Galad is I cannot tell you; elves like to give people with whom they are friendly names in Elvish. Usually they simply grab the meaning of your normal name and then translate that into their language. At any rate, let me rebind the leather, would you?''

While you watched Grungri labour in silence, you were left with one singular question: Who the hell is Arth-Galad? As Grungri worked on the sword, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Arth-Galad than an inscription hidden in a sword, but for now it would have to do.

You were handed back the sword, and you placed it back in its scabbard. It was at that moment the Vilicus began to appear as he descended through the roof; incorporeal as he was, he could simply walk through the walls and floors of the palace.

''I was alarmed by an appearance of an energy pulse here, and—ah. You have found Grungurius, have you? I hope he hasn't been terribly impolite.'' The toga-clad overseer of the palace asked you.

''Don't worry your perfumed little buttocks about it, Vilicus; I ain't about to insult the good lad who woke me up from my little nap.''

''Yes, I am starting to remember why Lord Titus had your Clavis removed when he was done here.'' The vilicus loudly mumbled to himself.

''Aye, and he was a right proper cunt for it,'' Grungri mockingly said.

>What's a clavis
>I take it the working relationship inst very sunny.
>Vilicus, I have need of fuel, procure it for me, if you please.
>Write-in

>>6174278
Oh yes, and the Pastebin and Archive links.

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Settler%20Lord%20Quest

Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/u/Adlershorst

>>6174278
>Write-in: "Peace please. It's bad form to bicker in front of guests."
>What's a clavis?

>>6174328
support

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That last comment made you twitch your eye a little; colleagues would usually bicker among one another, but most would be professional to keep such matters away from any customers or guests. And thus, it was up to you to bring order to these two.

''Peace, please. It's bad form to bicker in front of guests." You said, perhaps louder than you had intended.

''My apologies if we have offended you, young master, but this is how we usually talk to each other. There isn't any malice in it; why old Grung and I served in the legion when we were younger. When you go as far back as we do, ha, we would wish each other a pleasant death whenever the camp was under attack; normally he wouldn't leave his smith's tent save when we were on the move.''

''Yeah, yeah, you big softie, I am fond of you too, you sentimental old tar,'' Grungri said to him.

''And you're doing it again,'' you said.

''Back off, you. What flies between members of the legions, retired or not. Is the legion's own business. An eternal brotherhood, forged in sweat and blood. Don't take offence if you hear us trading barbs; it's just how we two old men spend our time when there aren't any guests.''

''Right, right, anyway, what's a clavis?'' You asked.

''A key, or rather the general word for keys, our clavii, is what makes us function.'' He motioned you over to the anvil. ''Within the gem of Grungri's clavis is stored the information that makes him function. We are formed from the memory of Emperor Titus, who copied and then stored these memories in gems like this. Mine is kept somewhere else; the astronomer has one, as does the groundskeeper. The larger the key, or well 'key,' the more autonomous one can function. Grungi gem makes him capable of interacting with items, but he can't leave this room. I can't interact with anything physical, but I can go where I please.''

>Could one cheat death in such a manner?
>Do you have any warstories?
>Write-in.

>>6174653
>Do you have any warstories?
>Write-in: "where is the astronomers key?"

>>6174653
>>Could one cheat death in such a manner?

Ah, fellow soldiers then, or at the very least, the veterans of some great war or another. You were here for matters relating to war after all. When you were but a lad, you would read and hear about the gallant wars the chivalric armies of modernity have fought, yet you had never heard the stories of the great organised armies of yore. Legions marching in lockstep, marching and campaigning far from home for the glory of their realm. Commanded by men who for some war is a matter of craft, rather than a matter of birth.

''Do you have any war stories? Of great commanders who led you to foreign shores and lands? With whom would you bring low the barbarians and the enemies of the Emperors?'' You asked of the duo.

''Oh, there's plenty, but we need to recall some of them first,'' they told you. You can always come back to it later.

''About the Clavis, one cheats death in such a manner if the crystal or gem is good enough, that is.'' You asked them.

''You could, yes. But the price you would be paying for something like that would be very high. You know of phylacteries, used by those who would cheat death but retain their bodies? To place one's soul in one clavis is to kiss both death and your body goodbye. The soul would become trapped within such a gem, a jar to store your soul in, so to speak. Criminals in the Mithradian city-states would be sentenced to death and have their souls trapped in such things before being released after sixty years to punish them. The greatest evil we fought during our service made use of such magics. Which reminds me, you wanted a war story; you shall have one.''

>>6175381
''It was just after we had been transferred away from the northern limes; there we had subdued a few unruly Tautenic tribes in a punitive expedition the previous year. But we had received news of trouble on the eastern borders, so Emperor Titus cut the expedition short. Beyond the eastern limes, which stretched across the great deserts, drylands, and mountains of the Near Orient. An immortal king had arisen. We had kept tabs on what was happening in the region, but the news came unexpectedly. He was the lord of some minor mountain principality but had, in the years of his reign, perfected the art of soul transfer. He would place his soul in the bodies of his offspring whenever his body would wear out. And he created from the souls of his greatest warriors an elite cadre of immortals. Metal man, unfeeling and merciless, driven and powered by their souls.''

''Like the undead?'' You asked.

'i] ''Worse than that.'' The vilicus grimaced. ''With the undead, you would only need to kill whomever was puppeteering them; these abominations could function apart from their masters. They were hard to kill, and he had a great many of them. Strong they were too, without shields, but with a great weapon we could never hope to lift. He marched first to the city of Cyridia. Which his metal army took by chiselling through the walls. Once inside, they left nothing but destruction in their wake, slaughtering all who dared to resist. The city fell within hours; he would take eight more cities before we had mustered enough to march against him.''

''We lost the first few engagements; neither we nor the leadership really knew how to deal with such a foe, which led to great losses and routs early on. Eventually we started to overwhelm through sheer numbers and our better manoeuvrability.''

''Bloody ironic, considering how much armour you lot would wear in the field,'' Grungri commented.

''We managed to draw them into a valley with steep cliffs. We were ordered to hold the line against them; we were hard-pressed that day. Six cohorts were annihilated, killed to the man, in the fighting. But then the emperor executed his plan.''

>>6175382
''He had flown up to the cliffs on his Pegasus, from there he cast a spell that was so bright and hot I fought the sun had come down upon the earth. When it was over, and to my surprise we weren’t dead, we could finish off the rest of the metal monstrosities, half molten as they were, with little difficulty. We pursued the immortal king into his mountain fortresses, but Emperor Titus fought better of it, and melted the stone of the citadel his enemy was hiding in. A great triumph was held the day we returned to the capital, and that’s about all I remember’’

‘’And where, then is, the Astronomer’s key?’’ you asked.

‘’Somewhere at the top of the tower, don’t ask me where it exactly is. Go to the top first, then I can help you, maybe. See you around, I heard the climbing for stairs is good for one's health.’’ And the vilicus disappeared into the thin air once more.

With nothing better to do, you left the smithing hall, took the corridor back up to the surface floor via the stairs, crossed the inner courtyard before entering the central tower, from where you began climbing the central spiral stairs. You decided to take your time in ascending the stairs, the height of the tower could leave you exhausted before you even reached the top.
And you climbed, up, and up. In an endless circle you slowly ascended to the top of the great tower, you first reached the room with the Panopticon, before you took another set of stairs up into the great dome that form the roof of the damn thing. You took one look through the dusty old half-attic, half-observatory and began searching.

Roll 1D100 [DC 60] to see if you can find the astronomer's key.

Rolled 52 (1d100)

>>6175388

Rolled 86 (1d100)

>>6175388

Rolled 67 (1d100)

>>6175388

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You begin searching and digging through years and years of dusty old uncompiled notes that were never delivered to the archives for one reason or another. The slot where the key was supposed to be was at the centre of the room, in the supporting structure of the solar system.

Though you accidentally hit yourself on the head by crashing it into a supporting beam, you did manage to have a closer look. There was one great orb in the middle. Surrounded by smaller spheres on rings, all of these planets were well known to you; these had been in common learning since antiquity.

At the centre stood the world, Illurbis. Surrounding that were the moon and then the sun. Beyond that lay the planets, and then came the stars. Through these, the gods would signal future events to their faithful, their only method of communicating with mortals since the covenant of non-interference.

You found the key under a scrap of parchment, which out of curiosity you decided to read. The contents of it are beyond both your knowledge of Isidorian and astrology; it would seem to be the incoherent ramblings of a lunatic, talking about the mass and weight of the sun compared to the world, how frustrated the author is at not being able to calculate such a thing, and that he had his suspicions about the sun, not the world, being the centre.

You didn't really care, nor did you understand the arguments that were laid before you, so you laid the parchment aside and took the key, which was made of a bluish-grey stone with silver engravings in the form of stars and floral patterns. With you back to the model.

>>6175889


This one went in without a hassle. Though nothing or no one appeared. Strange; normally they would have appeared by now. You immediately cried, ''Vilicus, I require your presence!''

The ghost of the man appeared in a second

''Yes, young master, what's the matter?''

''Your astronomer hasn't appeared, though I placed his clavis in the slot.''

''Oh, I had forgotten about that; the astronomer will only be manifested at the light of the moon and stars. In other words, you have to wait a few hours until sunset. I take it you shall remain here to await him? In that case, I shall have something edible sent upwards at about 6 o'clock.''

You agreed and sat down upon a nearby chair; for extra comfort, you took off your belt and scabbard and laid them down upon the table. You watched as the sky turned from a pale blue to a red-orange, which then slowly cooled to a dark blue, only lit up by stars and the moon.

Twas then, that out of the pale moonlight stepped a man in blue robes, a silver circlet adorned upon his head, he towered over you, though you weren't short of stature yourself, for a human that is. As you got closer to him, you could see with clear sight that he was an elf; the long ears that kept his hair in check testified to that. You could guess from the stars upon the fabric of his clothing that he was, indeed, an astronomer. He gave you a curt nod.

''Greetings unto you, young one. I am Ilwëcenda, the court astronomer of this here establishment.'' He paused for a bit.

''Do you have need of any of my services? I am rather grateful to you for giving me a chance to see the night sky once more.''

>Can you perform a scrying? I have need of information from the future.
>Master astronomer, when shall the winter solstice come?
>write-in.

>>6175890
>Can you perform a scrying? I have need of information from the future.
>Master astronomer, when shall the winter solstice come?
Winter solstice is the most important one.

''Master astronomer, when shall the winter solstice come?'' You asked.

''Certainly, give me just a few minutes to review my notes. What year is it?''

''1254 Anno Curia.'' You answered.

''I am not familiar with that calendar. But if it started 1254 years ago, a lot of cycles must have happened during my absence. The winter solstices usually happen somewhere between the twentieth and the twenty-second day of the last month of the year. The last records I have date back to 52503=-1302 Coranartar, the Elven calendar of yore, but this is beginning to be a bit tricky because I don't think either of us knows how much time has passed between our calendars.'' He said.

''Well, from what I remember, the last High King of the Elves died about 19000 years before the start of our calendar.'' You told him.

''Oh, why didn't you say that right away? The High King died in the year 34805 Coranartar. And that would mean that, due to the natural cycle that the planet moves in, the winter solstice shall fall on the twenty-second. Then the day shall be shortest, and afterwards the Northern Hemisphere shall start to experience longer days while the south shall enter its colder seasons.''

>>6176447
''And how do you know all of this? You haven't calculated anything, nor have you written anything down, or is this some ancient Elven knowledge that has been kept out of the hands of the younger ones?

''I've spent the good majority of my career calculating the course of the world in which we live, young man. I can do the calculations in my head as if I were haggling for apples at the market. In the ancient days, when the great realms of the firstborn stood tall and great, there were those who sailed the world oceans and there discovered many a great thing; the northern half of the world shall have summer while the south has its winter, and so forth. But no, the solstice falls on the 22nd, no matter what.''

''As for your other question, I can scry for you, but be warned that the signs the stars give do not always make sense. Most messages are drenched in symbolism and metaphors. I can tell you the signs, but I cannot tell you what they mean. So write down what I shall say, because you shall be guessing and interpreting for a long time. Now let us start; we shall go outside to the night sky.''

The heavens were clear that night; the moon was at its fullest. You had both quill and parchment with you. The astronomer began looking at the stars and, to your surprise, began singing.

>>6176448
When you were a boy, you had heard that Elvish singing was among the most beautiful things there are, so clear, so pure; they used to say that such songs could be used to bring down mountains or be used in the making of great creations. He sang in a long and melancholic tune. Seeing the unseen, bridging the unbridgeable, a faint glow began coming from him, but he continued to sing, his voice weaving through the night air like a spell. The words were foreign to you, but the emotion behind them was unmistakable, awakening something deep within your soul. When he stopped, he seemed more corporeal than his colleagues, almost as if he was really there.

''Thou plea, it has been heard. Heed these words well and think of them often, for they shall be the chart to navigating the treacherous path upon which you have embarked: The snake is strangling the eagle, who is wounded from his fight with the bull. The eagle's flock looks on in indecisiveness, while the ravens, crows and other vultures circle from a distance. There shall come a time of confrontation, from which you can either withdraw, within the safety of the valleys you have secluded yourself in, or act, uniting and reconciling those who have lost their way.''

You scribbled it all down, thanked the elf for his time and expertise, and then quickly and quietly retired for the night back to your room.

The following morning, after breakfast, you decided to confer once more with your closest advisor about the next steps in the coming months; the 22nd of Nivosus was still two months away, and there was much to be done, both here and in the wider world. You had been here for about a week now, and while this most wondrous palace is presumably filled with hidden treasures and wonders, you still have matters elsewhere that you need to attend to.

Any trust that the Mithradian court might have had in any of the crusaders has probably been evaporated by the declarations and pretensions of Raymond, who now styles himself King, no ''King'' of Amaliona. You know Mithradian pretty well; perhaps you should try your hand at reassuring the Mithradians by paying a visit. By now, your lieutenant in Trorinolis should have gotten the replies from the other leaders of the larger crusading armies; perhaps it is time to go back there to arrange a meeting?

> We shall remain here until the new year. I want this place turned inside out before I leave it.
>Good relations with the Mithradians are crucial for success in this damned war, and I can't communicate with them from here; we should go back to Trorinolis and contact the government from there.
>With each day that passes, Raymond makes himself more and more the master of the Amaliona. It is time I act, to form a united front by organising a meeting between myself, Castelanne, Marlwick, and Westernesse.

>>6176449
>>Good relations with the Mithradians are crucial for success in this damned war, and I can't communicate with them from here; we should go back to Trorinolis and contact the government from there.

>>6176449
>Good relations with the Mithradians are crucial for success in this damned war, and I can't communicate with them from here; we should go back to Trorinolis and contact the government from there.

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You cannot stay here. The outside world is moving at its own pace, and you cannot act accordingly if you stay here. The infidel has been trounced, but not defeated. As far as you know, they could still come back.

Then there are the other two headaches you have. When you got here, you managed to quietly usurp command of an army-in-the-making from their reluctant commander. It was a plot by the noble Mithradian family, the Maniakids, to overthrow the present dynasty. Prokopios Maniakes isn't someone who will be pleasantly disposed to you should he take the throne, and you aren't too fond of him either. Besides that, Raymond's little stunt has practically jeopardised whatever goodwill there once was between the crusading armies and the imperial court.

Likewise, the crusading momentum shall most likely be upended, and initiative shall fall into the hands of the Mizarians before the year is out should this situation prove irreparable. Things have become very delicate in these parts.

No, it is time for you to ride back to Trorinolis; from there you shall make contact with the imperial government, perhaps having the Eparch throw in a good word on your behalf as well. From there on, you shall make an attempt to forge a united front against the upstart Raymond and stop him from gaining any more strength.

The next morning you bid the Vilicus farewell after breakfast. You stepped through the portal that would bring you back to the temple through which you had found this place. From there on out it was easy riding back to Trorinolis. By Greifswalder standards, the temperatures were pleasant for the time of year, though dark clouds were coming from the east as you rode closer and closer to your destination.

>>6176947
As soon as you had ridden through to your headquarters, you immediately wrote down a letter that you hoped would explain the situation that you and some of the other crusaders found yourselves in. How what Raymond is doing is wrong and unjust, and how you have returned all the territory you recovered to the empire, the Eparch of the city also put in some reassurances and praises of your conduct in the time that you had been there.

You had written it in flawless Mithradian, and you also wrote a smaller letter to Eleftherios, confiding to him that your search has been a success and it was well worth the visit. It was a nicety to yourself, so you thought, one letter for matters of friendship and the other for matters of state.

You had the quickest horse you had (aside from Wittekind) made ready with the most able rider to ride at breakneck speed for Elisnikon. You will not be blindsided with the conniving of the scum of the earth, who so dearly cling on to the pretension of nobility; no Maniakid nor Montpelerin would stop you in this matter.

With the letters out of the gate, you decide to start implementing some of the other things on the agenda. You send out ransom notes to the Mizarians for their prisoners while you let them work on creating a system of canals, reservoirs, and terraces in accordance with the tome on Dwarven agriculture you found.

You had sent your scribe, Ulrich, back to the palace to copy the pages of as many books as possible for future use, of course. The palace itself was a useful resource to you; the forge it boasts can supply your may if amply supplied, and you won't abandon it completely. It can also act as a safehouse in case of a truly great disaster or in case you need to hide someone or something. To that end, one of the places to be considered as a target for next year's campaign would be the iron mines in a valley to the north.

>>6176948
And, things returned to their normal routine. You trained, planned, held meetings with the Eparch, and curried favour with both the local Mithradian elites and your direct subordinates. There were problems and incidents here and there, but nothing the provosts and city watch couldn't handle. To your surprise, some of the soldiers had taken on a local wife, not merely the Mithradian ones, but the Tauten ones as well. You supposed it would be a matter of time, especially after you had let them take leave here, but you preferred being able to depart without any attachments.

It was a cold autumn morning when you were inspecting the renovation of the walls when a runner came up to you. Holding a letter.

''A message for you, my lord, came from some self-important fellow with a silly hat.''

You dismissively took the letter and thanked the runner for it. You would read it as soon as you were back inside.

The letter itself was unmarked, with no seals or indication of its origins. The contents were written in Auruncian, so it wasn't from Anastasios, nor from the Mizarians, nor was it from your fellow countryman; this was a westerner who was contacting you.
My friend,

Though we haven't spoken in person before, we have met before, in the halls of Emperor Anastasius. I am sending you this message out of a belief that our interests might be aligned. The last few months I have been watching the situation in Mithras unfold, and though my own duties have on occasion kept me busy elsewhere, I can tell you that I am within the vicinity once more.

I shall be brief on the matter; I want to meet in the coastal town of Athra. Once there I shall explain to you in more detail.

I hope you can join us.

Carlo Scandellago, the Doge of Alotoro

So, the final player puts his pieces on the board. The Castanan merchants of Alotoro have kept the seas clear of any infidels so far, but they themselves are at least partially responsible for the sorry state the Mithradian Empire finds itself in. They're a finicky bunch, those Castanans.

>I shall not be lowered into talking with the likes of him, burn the letter.
>I am willing to hear what he says, but not without escort, and he never mentioned that I should come alone.

>>6176950
>I am willing to hear what he says, but not without escort, and he never mentioned that I should come alone.

>>6176950
>I am willing to hear what he says, but not without escort, and he never mentioned that I should come alone.

I had another idea to put forward, a letter to the bandit Maurus complimenting him on securing the iron mine from the foul heathen, requesting that he muster his men for our spring campaign and resume shipment of iron promising glory and wealth to come in the next campaign season. If we can flip him over to our side it can kill two birds with one stone.

>>6177326
seconded, sounds like a good scheme

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You decide upon taking up the Doge's offer of a meeting. While Raymond may have the largest army on the island, barring the Mithradians were they to come in full force, the Alotorans control the seas around the archipelago. Hearing him may be worth the time, if nothing else. Though you do have second thoughts about his own plans for the region. Powerful or not, men like him only care about the flow of trade, upon which the merchant princes are dependent.

Before leaving for the meeting, you write one more letter to the bandit headman, Maurus. Though you did not know if he could read or not, in it, you put various flatteries, congratulating him on keeping the precious iron mines out of the hands of the infidels and asking him if he were willing to resume the iron shipments to you; you also put in offers of a general pardon and clemency if he were willing to join you in the next campaign come the next spring.

You did know much about Maurus, but hopefully, he is more like the merry outlaws who steal from the rich and give to the poor or the likes of the outlaw bands who would wage a war of shadows against the tyrants of the past rather than a common brigand. You had enquired about his past with the Eparch, according to whom Maurus was either a deserter from the imperial army, who turned to a life of crime after his unit was killed. Or the son of peasants, who fled to the mountains after he was caught rustling goats and sheep.

You would deal with Maurice later; for now, you were content with meeting the Dodge. You set out with a good escort of horses, for you would ride for a few short days before reaching the coast.

>>6177446
You rode through over the fields and hills, until descending be the coast. From there, you rode over the beach to your destination. In the town of Athra, located in a cove, the houses were all huddled together and painted white, with small windows. The harbour was mostly populated by small fishing vessels, but a larger vessel, adorned with the flag of Alotoro, was also present. It wasn't the Doge's flagship, because that thing wouldn't fit there. You arrived at sunset, just in time for dinner, and the Alotorans had prepared for you a meal of pasta with tuna. The Dodge mostly kept to more casual subjects for as long as the dinner lasted; afterwards, he invited you outside. You walked out of the inn; the Alotorans had invited you in, back to the harbour. Before the two of you left, you thought about removing your sword to gain some trust.

''Keep your weapon; after all, I keep mine at my side as well.'' He made the coin purse on his belt jingle.

''When you first got here, you arrived on a ship chartered under the Alotoran flag. Is that correct?'' He asked.

''Yes, why'd you ask? It seems a bit trivial," you answered.

''I have always been very interested in what my captains have to say and who and what they transport. That is also how I found out you smuggled out Cephalas Maniakes. That was quite bold of you, my friend. But I am afraid that such news spreads fast, needless to say. Prokopios is very interested in having both you and his brother be brought before him.''

''Needless to say, I am not interested in having Prokopios claiming the imperial throne, but Raymond's antics combined with Prokopios having successfully murdered Anastasios's eldest son have given him more support among the court than he should have. Anastasios can behead, blind, and banish as many of them as he pleases, but those methods have their limits. Anastasios is clever, but too inflexible with his wrath and mercy to understand his support base is slipping from his fingers.'' He stroked his thin moustache.

>And how would you know of this?
>What is your stake in this? Money?
>You seem to be a little to well-informed for my tastes, your serenity.
>Write-in.

>>6177447
>You seem to be a little to well-informed for my tastes, your serenity.

>>6177447
>You seem to be a little to well-informed for my tastes, your serenity.

Something was off; the Dodge was a little too well-informed for your tastes. That he had been able to find out you had arranged for Cephalas' escape made you feel a sudden bout of distrust towards the man. Did he intend to blackmail you? To do his bidding? To act as his muscle while he secures various ports and cities. Probably not, or he would have done so in his letter. Besides that, the only thing he could threaten you with is making you an enemy of the Emperor.

Castanans do have a history of intrigues and spycraft that would leave any outsider confused about what is happening behind the curtains. Their little machinations and plots to secure and advance their positions, both within and outside their merchant republics. An assassination here, a bribe there, the intimidation or buying of voters. Honestly, the amount of plots and scandals of those republics makes you wonder why they even bothered with the whole thing in the first place.

Still, you decide to voice your suspicions

''You seem to be a little too well-informed for my tastes, your serenity.'' You told him.

His eyes shortly gave off a hint of amusement, and he mockingly pursed his lips. ''I am but a humble merchant; I simply tell you what I have been told. But in seriousness.'' His voice became heavier. ''Having a network of agents and feelers out and about is what one must do to stay ahead in the game. I don't bother with assassination or other lower forms of the hooded ones. We merchants typically are at each other's throats all the time, so we need informants and spies to keep us safe and one step ahead of the competition; this goes double for our foreign affairs.''

He paused.

>>6177652


''Our diplomats are authorised to find and gather information that may be useful to the common interest of the republic; gold opens many mouths and many doors. Especially among those spendthrifts that so litter the royal courts. To give you an example, what do you know of Montpelerin?''

''He's from Aurilie, related to their King, and too ambitious for his own good.'' You told him.

''A rough sketch, you have an image of him that isn't inaccurate but very basic. Through one of my subordinates, who was working as a representative for the trading family in the area, I have been able to gather some more: He's short, with a brown, curt beard and receding hairline, and is very petty and self-conscious. His original plan was to claim the entire island and demand your oath of loyalty, but he was dissuaded by his lords. This was all extracted from one of his courtiers, who indulged in drinks and gambling a little too much and sold some secrets to us.''

''Montpelerin is useful; you see him as a disreputable cur, which he is. But he is a stopgap, bottled up in his little kingdom, trapped between the Mithradians and the infidels; he keeps both of them at bay, for now. Which gives us time and room to operate with considerably more freedom than usual. Montpelerin is a small fry, deluded with ideas of his own greatness; his hold on power is more tenuous than he would like you to believe. He can always be dealt with later. It is the Mithradians who need our gracious intervention.''

''Do they now? Last I saw, the current regime seems to keep itself relatively stable.'' He said

''A good facade, I admit. There are things you don't know about the inner machinations of their court. When you and the other crusaders left, the Cardinal and I were invited for dinner with him. There, he would start coughing up blood, and in the months that I have seen him since, he has grown paler and more feeble; the death of his eldest son has made him completely lethargic. His dynasty is either to be led by a wastrel or one of his daughters. A Maniakid Mithras is closer than you might think.''

''Why are you so interested in what will happen then? It seems to me that you want to pick your own emperor.'' You said.

''Maybe I do, but there is more to it than that. The Mithradian government and some of their noble families have racked up massive debts with our merchants and bankers. Prokopios would default on the debt the second he sat on the throne. What I want is very simple: a stable Mithras that is open to trade and is paying its dues to us. That means there are no isolationists on the throne, that the infidels are to be thrown back to their little sandbox, and Raymond is sent crying back to Aurilie.''

''What is your plan, then, to secure a stable future for both you and Mithras?'' You asked.

>>6177655

''I will work behind the scenes; I shall look for a suitable replacement in place of Anastasios' son. This replacement will have to be quickly confirmed by the Senate and then consecrated by the patriarch of Elisnikon, so it will take some time for me to find someone who fits the bill. If things go awry, and, as unlikely as it may be, Prokopios would execute a coup. We should countercoup as soon as possible if it does come to that. I would like for you to help me in that regard; Prokopios isn't particularly popular among the regular army, but the palace guards and city watch are different beasts. If it comes so far, I would ask that you return at once to the capital. My navy will transport you across the waters. With a bit of luck, the Mithradian general will refuse his usurpation. Then we can kill it in the crib. That is all I ask of you: to act as backup in case matters go wrong or events travel faster than they should.''

>And if it truly goes wrong? Say we don't arrive in time and Prokopios is truly made emperor?
>What game are you playing here, Your Serenity? Are you asking us to intervene in a potential civil war in Mithras? What if I am engaged elsewhere if Prokopios reveals himself?
>I would be most happy to help you in this regard, Your Serenity. If the signal is given, and you call for my aid, I shall answer.
>I am sorry, Your Serenity. But I must refuse; I cannot partake in such a game of skuldug

>>6177656
>What game are you playing here, Your Serenity? Are you asking us to intervene in a potential civil war in Mithras? What if I am engaged elsewhere if Prokopios reveals himself?
>write in:"Why do you even consider me? "

You had never been good at this type of thing. Father considered such plotting to be a low and dishonourable act. He isn't averse to making backroom deals; that is how he acquired his duchy, after all. But in truth, he would never consider a coup or interfering in the affairs of other nations in such a manner. Mother did teach you something, mostly about being on guard for yes-men, flatterers, and orbiters. But most of that was how to react, not how to act. But you had enough sense in your head that you knew when someone was drawing you into a scheme.

''What game are you playing here, Your Serenity? Are you asking us to intervene in a potential civil war in Mithras? What if I am engaged elsewhere if Prokopios reveals himself?'' If you were on the other end of the Island, it could take a month of maybe more before you were back, that would be time Prokopios could use.

''That is a possibility. I cannot ask you to break off immediately, but you shouldn't worry that much in such a case; I have a backup plan.'' He told you in a reassuring tone.

A backup plan, one of which you don't even know the details. Perhaps that is for the best.

"Why do you even consider me?" You asked him.

He gave you a smirk.

''Do you think you're the only one I send a letter to? You are my first choice; I admit to that. Raymond won't cooperate or see it as an opportunity to sit on the throne himself; Castelanne spent a good chunk of his army taking a fortress up north. Marlwick is wracked with bouts of gout, and his army is dying of camp fever. Westernesse spends most of his time trying to clear out the remaining pockets of resistance there; these three could act as your substitute if it was necessary. There are other crusaders on their way here who can do the same. I have a friend among the strategoi who can keep Prokopios occupied. Your participation in this plan isn't crucial to its success, but it would greatly aid with the pace at which it can be executed.'' he told you.

''And if Prokopios does succeed? Say he manages to secure the loyalty of the army and the senate. And he cements his position as emperor. What will we do then?

The Dodge's features shifted to one of grim determination as he responded, "If that were to happen, I shall do everything in my power to ensure his downfall. The Mithradians have borrowed too much money for us to let them go now. It would ruin several banking houses and merchant families; if that were to truly happen, I would have no choice but to directly seize whatever the Mithradian treasury contains. It would be that or economic ruin for La Serenissima, capiche?''

>In that case, I would be happy to help, Your Serenity. May such a day never come to pass.
>I must decline your offer, Your Serenity. But my conscience cannot permit it.

>>6178023
>I must decline your offer, Your Serenity. But my conscience cannot permit it.
I worry this would just be letting a bunch of wealthy merchants to get their hooks into us. If they can coup an empire, dealing with us the second we do something they dislike would be a trifle.

>>6178023
>I must decline your offer, Your Serenity. But my conscience cannot permit it.
He never even offered us anything substantial for it. Does this guy think we'll just do his bidding no questions asked?

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This is too shifty for your tastes. And aside from that, this glorified merchant wants you to do his bidding without letting you know what exactly you stand to gain from this arrangement. Nor do you trust his plans; he has designs on this empire, and while he talks about using Raymond as a pawn, isn't he also hoping to turn you into a pawn? To be used to put strings on the empire, and to be discarded and sacrificed if the need arises. No, thanks, you deal with Prokopios the old-fashioned way. By running either your sword or your lance through him. Should he take the empire, you will dispose of him through a passage of arms. So you tell as much.

''I must decline your offer, Your Serenity. But my conscience cannot permit it.'' You said in a firm tone. Whatever this moustached peddler was trying to sell to you, you wouldn't have it. You were half of a mind to insult him with an insult made for his kind, something with copper, but you decided otherwise.

''A pity; I had hoped for a productive cooperation, but I am not as petty or as small-minded to bear a grudge. I thank you for at least being willing to hear me out. I hope we can depart on friendly terms and that we may meet in favourable circumstances in the future.'' If he is disappointed, he is hiding it well. Nevertheless, you decided against staying the night; you rode back inland and only set up camp when you thought yourself out of their reach.

It was hard riding back to Trorlinos; a hailstorm had made the roads into mud, and your cloaks couldn't handle the rains. It was a journey of dirty breeches, pulling horses out of the mud. And soaked clothing, but you managed to pull through. As you rode back through the gates and back inside, you changed clothes before receiving the report you wanted about the bandit Maurus.

To determine what kind of man Maurus is, roll a 1d100, if you please.

1-34: Maurus is the last of a once-prominent noble family, whose estates had been burnt by the enemy. He led the survivors into the woods and hills, from where he wages a guerilla war. He is a true patriot and more than eager to help you in the war effort.

35-67: Maurus was once a lower-ranking officer in the imperial army; now, without purpose or master, he made off for the wilds, where he set up his own little army. Cynical and world-weary, Maurus is willing to hear you out, but yearns for something more peaceful.

68-100: Maurus is nothing more than a hoary old bandit, with no loyalties save his own coffers. He is willing to sell you iron at exorbitant prices but wants you to stay clear of his own turf.

Rolled 93 (1d100)

>>6178153

>>6178241
Well hell, I guess it is to be a battle then.

Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>6178153
I'm just gonna roll and convince the QM as the player who suggested this plan this should be the roll he takes.

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According to the men you had sent into Maurus' territory, there seemed to be an absence of, well, anything. The villages were all empty, or so it was thought at first. As it turns out, the villagers tend to hide whenever someone, or something, comes approaching, as Maurus' men tend to round up the young to work in the mines. These people are kept in line through a regime of terror and intimidation. At this point, only the old and the crippled, as well as the very young, are left in the villages.

When they did come across his men, your men feigned interest in buying some of his iron ore. However, as they haggled, Maurus' true intentions became clear. He demanded a hefty price for the ore and threatened violence if it was not paid. Fortunately for your horsemen, the brigands are more used to intimidating poorly armed and armoured peasants, not professional men-at-arms. They quickly broke through Maurus' feeble bodyguards and left for Trorlinos and have been awaiting your return for a few days.

From what you can gather, Maurus and co. are not professionals, at least not when it comes to proper setpiece battles; rather, they prefer targets that don't fight back.

You had fought against this type of scum before; in Greifswald, such men would often hide deep in the woods. Preying on isolated villages and caravans, Father had a series of specialist rangers patrol these forests, which helped, though some of them moved deeper into the forest, where things dark and dangerous dwell, so that problem usually solves itself; on the other hand, they tend to stick to sparsely populated areas on the border, where the men-at-arms are less thorough.

It was nearing the end of Pulvimons (X), and the winter solstice would happen at just over the halfway point of Nivosus. So you still had time, if you so wished, to pull a quick one, jump Maurus, kick him in the shins, and have his head on the Eparch's desk before the winter is even here. On the other hand, it might be prudent to postpone such actions until the new year.

>Maurus is a loose end that should have been tied up long ago; we will march.
>Though it pains my heart, I cannot aid the poor fellows who suffer under his oppression until next spring.

>>6178589
>Maurus is a loose end that should have been tied up long ago; we will march.

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You wouldn't be much of a knight were you to let the evildoers of this earth harm the innocent without taking action. Ever since you were but a squire, no, but a page in your father's court. You have been instilled with a sense of justice. The commoners till the fields, mine the ores, and yield you your taxes; it is, therefore, within your interests to protect these good fellows from those who mean them harm.

You marched lightly with as few waggons as possible, as you wouldn't want to be stuck in any autumn mud before delivering battle. You ordered the men to wear their woollen red cloaks to protect them from the wind and the cold. A pleasant surprise it was when the weather stayed clear for the coming days, and roads thus dried up.

You crossed a bridge over the river and took the road up north into the valley where the iron mines were located. You ordered the men to be billeted in one of the abandoned villages for the night while planning your next move.

''Maurus won't give us battle; he knows his men aren't cut out to fight ours. He will remain hidden and only re-emerge when we have left.'' One of the men said.

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>>6178738


''Then we should force him out of hiding by squeezing where it hurts, his iron mines; we'll do it slowly and carefully so that he will muster out his men. Bandits are cowardly creatures, and I have a feeling that he'll only come out if we hurt his income," you told the man.

In the two weeks that followed, you and your men marched upon a variety of mines; the guards stationed there were easily dispatched with a crossbow bolt to the throat. And what you found inside was truly sickening; boys and girls as young as ten work themselves to the bone alongside their parents. You quickly freed the lot of them. It might have been careless to send them straight back to their villages, but you knew that Maurus would be kept busy with you.

It was when you were marching towards another mine that your scout spotted something that could be called an army. When you first saw what they had been composed of, you couldn't help but laugh. There's a reason bandits don't rob castles, and it's the same reason as the one here. You and your men are too well armed.

This is going easy, is what you thought as you ordered the footman and archers into the line formations. You spotted the enemy had about ten men on horseback; one of them probably was Maurus.

>Have the calavry poke at their flanks, ride on, regroup and then charge them from the back.
>Order the crossbowmen to cut down the curs where they stnad, nice, clean and easy.
>Have the line advance, youll do this the oldfashioned way.
>Write-in

>>6178742
>Have the calavry poke at their flanks, ride on, regroup and then charge them from the back.

Maybe this old goat is more cunning than he appears? Probably not.

Anyways, this way our men get close enough time test their mettle, identify if these are even bandits and not dressed up hostages, and spring any flanking traps these dirtbags may have planned.

>>6178742
>Order the crossbowmen to cut down the curs where they stnad, nice, clean and easy.

No sense wasting good men

>>6178742
>Have the calavry poke at their flanks, ride on, regroup and then charge them from the back.

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From a distance, they might have been mistaken for an army or a unit of them. But as you get closer, it is more a mob of rioting peasants. Their armour is improvised, their weapons poorly maintained; mining iron is easy, at least compared to forging it into something. They seemed to content themselves with throwing insults at you and your army. Only you and a select few could understand them; these threats fell on deaf ears.

You would end this quickly and decisively; a good cavalry manoeuvre will bring them to their knees. You rode over to one of the squadrons with your own bodyguards to inform them of what you wanted to do.

The cavalry on both sides formed themselves up and began to pick up speed. Slowly, at first, but fast enough as you came closer and closer to the enemy.

They responded by throwing javelins and pelting you with rocks. As the pang of something that bounced off your helmet told you. You and the rest lowered your lances and chipped off some of their men. You rode past, slowed down outside their range, and regrouped for the next charge.

In the meantime, the footmen and archers would advance to truly envelop them. And as fate would have it, they were already wavering; this was doubly so when you came back to their rear. Unable to decide between fighting you and your advancing footmen. The brigands scattered, to be easily chased down by the light horse.

Casualties were light that day, fewer than a dozen actually dead; the rest had injuries that could be treated, mostly undeep wounds from the pebbles they had thrown. As for them, you had them hunted down and put down like the dogs they were, though they were without the nobler characteristics of that animal.

You had the field searched for Maurus, either for his body or to take him prisoner. And you did eventually find him. His lower legs were stuck under his horse, a cheap farm nag, riddled with four crossbow bolts. You had your men drag him from under his horse, then you had him tied up with his hand behind his back.

''You little turdmongler, I had a good thing going, you filthy rat.'' You hadn't seen him in person before, but you found him very ugly, with a voice that was guttural and low. You refrained from retorting, instead motioning to one of your men.

''Still!'' One of the common soldiers said as he deposited his armoured fist into Maurus' mouth. This made him cough up even more of his already missing teeth.

''Right, make sure he's tied up properly; if he tries to run, you shoot. Now, what to do?'' You said.

>Kill him on the spot
>Bring him to his home village to stand trail there
>Take him before the magistrate of the area, the Eparch that is.

>>6178799
Yeah no, Maurus, or rather is version of him, is the most hostile of the three, but also the weakest. Asking him to fight a battle is like putting a 1940s mobster in charge of a battalion in World War II, without being trained.

>>6179262
>Take him before the magistrate of the area, the Eparch that is.
He was a taint to the whole area and has hurt more villages than one. Also gives some legitimacy to the local Eparch for handling his own local affairs, so he's in a stronger position should we be not there.

>>6179262
>Take him before the magistrate of the area, the Eparch that is.

>>6179262
>>Take him before the magistrate of the area, the Eparch that is

>>6179262
>>Take him before the magistrate of the area, the Eparch that is.

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You would do this by the book, handing him over to the rightful authorities, who would then deal with them. What would happen then was of no concern to you.

The trip back was thus mostly uneventful; you had him wear a bag over his head to keep his identity hidden from any angry villagers.

You rode to the Eparch's residence. There you brought the criminal before him, and he seemed pleasantly surprised.

''So we meet each other at long last. You know, I now know why they used to call you Maurus Mangled-eye, looking at that face of yours. At any rate, Maurus, you stand accused of crimes ranging from sheep-stealing to the kidnapping and murder of Mithradian subjects. As such, I do hereby summon you before the court of law; your trial shall begin this afternoon.'' The Eparch told Maurus, who seethed in silence.

The trial itself was a short affair; some of the villagers of the village he grew up in told the Eparch, who, much like a feudal lord back home, would preside over matters of justice, that he started stealing sheep and other cattle from a young age. He would later be hired to chase out smallholders by corrupt nobles, though this was at the start of his career. Later on, when the authority of Mithras collapsed, he set himself up as a king of criminals of sorts. The Eparch kept it short and sentenced him to death by hanging. To be carried out imminently.

It was a short affair; the Mithradian priest kept his plea for repentance short on account of the weather. He was quickly put on a barrel and put under the gallows.

He turned to the crowd before facing his death and said, ''What care have I for your laws and states? I am an outlaw, beyond your reproach, and I shall die a man free from law and base morals.''

The rope worked its work quickly; the man was dead after the first snap. The Eparch had decided to move the corps back to the entrance of the valley he once terrorised to remind his few former subordinates of what fate awaited them.

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>>6180113


Winter was a late visitor in this land, and though the peaks of the mountains had been capped with snow for a while now, the higher valleys were busy being snowed in as well. It was a mild cold compared to the blizzards and freezing temperatures of Greifswald, according to the Eparch, who invited you to dinner nearly every week. Further down south, there are snowless winters, which was something you found hard to believe. Winter would always bring snow, of that you had known for as long as you had lived.

Thanks to your timely intervention, the food stores this year were amply supplied. That didn't mean there were problems; many men caught the typical winter diseases, which put many out of action. You had also taken the prisoners back from out of the fields to prevent any from freezing to death.

It was the tenth of Novisus (XII). When you got up, long before the dawn, you put on your best and warmest clothes. Forgoing your armour for now, you put on your woollen overvest to keep out the cold, a jerkin to keep out the wind, and, to top it all off, a heavy fur cloak and hat. You had the same done to your horse, and before long you were riding over the frozen roads.

It was six days of hooves crunching in the snow; through whitened mountains and dales you rode, rode back to the palace, hidden deep in the mountain chains, hidden from prying eyes and foreign armies.

This time, you didn't need to go through some convoluted trail to get there. When you got to the temple ruins, the portal opened on its own. Riding through, you found yourself in a place you had never been before, the stables of the palace. And the Vilicus was waiting for you this time.

'''Please place your steeds in the empty stalls," he said, gesturing towards the spacious stable. "I take it you are here for the return for my lord. Well, you are just in time; I shall fire up the hearths.''

''Hang on, what do you know about the return of your lord? What exactly will he do?'' You asked.

''I can't say too much. Titus told me at my creation that I should not say anything, because that would ruin the surprise, so I can't say what it is, sorry. Oh, no, wait, there is one thing: you should come out at midnight because it is then that he will appear in front of his mausoleum.'' And then he disappeared.

You spend the next few days silently reading in the library, eating in the halls, studying the stars, and swimming in the underground steam baths.

The night has come; all of you didn't sleep. No, that would be something you could do afterwards. There were no clocks, and the sundials would obviously not work. You and the others spent two hours outside; there was no wind, and the weather here wasn't as cold as elsewhere, just cold enough for snow to fall and stay.

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>>6180116
You and the rest remained there in front of his mausoleum, as nothing seemed to happen. The sky was dark; there was no moon nor stars that night. So it was extra dark.

It was then that not one but two little golden suns appeared. Sparkling with radiance, then more appeared, a man, of middle age and tall of state, regal and elegant, came into being. The suns, his eyes, shone bright golden light as he slowly approached you. Everything, from his golden laurel crown, his purple toga, his staff in one hand, and an orb in the other, made it clear who had materialised before you. It was as if a god had descended from the heavens, his presence commanding awe and respect. The surrounding air seemed to shimmer with power, as if the very fabric of reality bent to his will.

He looked at you and your fellowship, and then spoke: ''Are you without tongues, or has my presence struck you speechless? Fear not, for I am not here out of malevolence or ill intent.'' He spoke with a voice that could crumble rocks, uproot trees, and instil the coward with the courage of ten ordinary men.

>Ave, great and noble Imperator, I humbly bow before your immaculate splendour and offer our utmost respect.
>My lord, I come before you with need for your council, I feel like this land is tearing itself apart.
>Gracious Emperor, I seek answers to many questions, could you help me?
>Write-in

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>>6180118
And the close-up of his face.

>>6180118
>Ave, great and noble Imperator, I humbly bow before your immaculate splendour and offer our utmost respect.
>Write: in give your name, titles and land where you are from and also let your other companions introduce themselves.
>Write in: Your majesty your land is currently in the process of tearing itself apart and beset by foreign powers against it and ones who at first position themselves as allies, but are ready to bring it to ruin faster so they can feast and desecrate onto it's corpse.

Do we have anyone of us writing down what is happening?

>>6180137
You did send your scribe over to copy books from the palace library, and he is present.

>>6180118
>My lord, I come before you with need for your council, I feel like this land is tearing itself apart.

>>6180118
Support >>6180137

>>6180118
>My lord, I come before you with need for your council, I feel like this land is tearing itself apart.

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You went on your knee; normally you wouldn't have done so, as you didn't consider yourself a subject of the other monarchs that you had met before; indeed, the only person you had ever knelt before was your father.

''Ave, great and noble Imperator, I humbly bow before your immaculate splendour and offer our utmost respect.'' You said as you went on your knees.

''Arise, young one. I have heard your words of greeting and would now like to offer my own. I am indeed emperor, though obviously not reigning. You obviously know who I am, which is good. So I would now know who you are and from where you and your companions hail from.''

''I am Albrecht von Adlershorst, son of Dietrich von Adlershorst. Heir to the duchy of Greifswald, knight of the realm. These, my companions, mostly hail from Greifswald also.''

They all went before him, introducing themselves by name and title. You wondered what the thought of you, in his time, Tautenland was, but a wild land ruled over by wild barbarian kings; Greifswald lay beyond even that land.

He looked you all over and then gazed into your eyes. ''I know what those blue eyes and blonde hair mean. You're a Tautenian, though your culture has advanced since last I saw one of your kind, but the fervour of the old Tautenic warrior remains hidden behind a sincere sophistication; you remind me more of the civilised northern nobles we subjugated than the wild men beyond the limes, but then again I assume there is much that has changed since I last walked the earth. But this land of which you speak I know little; the far north was the domain of the Elves, and we were content to let them keep it. They gave us stones and metals for our marble and wine; they also didn't raid our ships or towns, so we were content in where we had drawn our northern frontiers.''

>>6180705
''But I could look at your land if I so wished.'' He told you.

''You can? Is that what the orb in the tower is for?'' You asked

''You know of the orb, which is good, but you cannot properly use it; it can only bring you here; it requires one who is able to understand the higher mysteries to properly use it; allow me to demonstrate.''

He threw the dark blue ball in the air, where it remained, floating. With his hand, he began to manipulate the orb, which changed from a dark centre to the whitened forest you were all too familiar with. He stopped over the city of Libau, where the orb showed you the silhouettes of the cathedral and the town houses. He looked inside, where the bishop was conducting a service.

''How quaint! I had been told that you worship some distant family member of mine, but to see it happen is a whole other matter. No sacrifices? Ah well, I am not one to judge; your religion seems far better organised than ours ever was. Let me tell you, they kept filling the temple hill with more and more temples, all so the patricians could have more of a chance at claiming the high priesthood of one of our gods. Thankfully, this practice was in decline after the rise of the path of the elder king, which looked down on such practices. Anyway.'' He made some more motions with his hand.

He continued on, along the roads and villages that were so deeply nestled in the forests; he looked at the castles and monasteries, which he found mildly amusing, especially after you explained why a bunch of men would spend their entire lives together with each other. Then he made the orb project Rittersbach, the capital of Greifswald.

>>6180706
''A quaint little pile of rocks, is this where you live? The windows of your father's home are rather big, a novelty of your time, I assume? Glass was far too expensive to be used in such large quantities in my time.'' He looked inside, where, before a warm hearth, a blonde middle-aged man sat behind his desk, working the hours away.

''That's my father!'' You exclaimed. ''He can't hear us, now can he?'' You asked of the emperor.

''No, and neither can you hear him. This artefact can do many things, but hearing isn't one of them. Your father seems a diligent and dutiful man, of which I approve; neglect is the most common vice among the monarchs; the only thing worse is an active malice or hatred of the country one rules. He might not be able to solve all problems, but at least he is willing to work on solving them, rather than distracting himself with feasts and hunting.'' The orb turned dark again as it fell into his hand. ''That's enough of that for now. Is this something you need from me?'' He asked.

''Your majesty, your land is currently in the process of tearing itself apart and beset by foreign powers against it and ones who at first position themselves as allies, but are ready to bring it to ruin faster so they can feast and desecrate onto it's corpse.''

''The Provincia Mithradia is my home, not my land. My true homeland, Aurunicum, was sunk beneath the waves. That province was the cradle of what would become the Imperium Isidoricum. It is true that Mithras was one of the first additions to the empire, and that it was an important economic hub, but make no mistake. This palace, and the grounds surrounding it, is simply my vacation home. My official residence, in the capital. It was much, much larger and more spacious than this palace. Though I am fond of the old girl, my actual homeland is gone, sunk beneath the waves for so displeasing the one whom you worship. He is much younger than I was when I died, but when he smote the corrupted remains of what was once our empire, I came to a realisation.''

He drifted off in a muse as he pondered something. So you asked him again.

>>6180707
''My lord, I come before you with need for your counsel; I feel like this land is tearing itself apart.''

''Have you ever considered that it was meant to fall apart? That the foreign powers that are now eyeing it to feast on and desecrate its corpse have reasons to do so? Nothing, and I do mean nothing, lasts forever. Before the empire, you had the regional hegemonies. We defeated them and became the empire. Before the time of men, the continent had many great Elven and Dwarven kingdoms on it, but all of them, even the empire I, my predecessors, and my successors worked so hard to create, expand, and preserve, would not last forever; to think so was a folly. I realised that when I saw Aurunicum struck down, some things are best left to give up the ghost.''

''And besides that, why are you, a foreigner from a far-off land, so invested in the future of this land?'' He asked.

>Mithras is the eastern bulwark against the infidel; to let it fall would open up the mainland to them.
>Because I believe that this country can still be saved, it may need new vigour, but its part isn't played out yet.
>I have grown rather fond of this country, and I would be loath to see it fall.
>Write-in

>>6180708
>Because I believe that this country can still be saved, it may need new vigour, but its part isn't played out yet.

>>6180708
>Mithras is the eastern bulwark against the infidel; to let it fall would open up the mainland to them.

>>6180708
>>Because I believe that this country can still be saved, it may need new vigour, but its part isn't played out yet.

>>6180708
>>Mithras is the eastern bulwark against the infidel; to let it fall would open up the mainland to them.
ALL HAIL MITHRAS
I took your advice and just voted with zero information :D

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''Because I believe that this country can still be saved, it may need new vigour, but its part isn't played out yet.''

You have seen some of the problems that were prevalent in Mithras. A corrupt, divided, and apathetic nobility; chronic shortages of manpower; an overburdened bureaucracy and manpower; and a stagnant economy. But that doesn't mean that coming here was a waste of time, is it? No, you were here to crusade for its preservation; letting it die would be antithetical to your purpose here. Did you come here for nothing? Was what you were doing pointless? Those were questions you would rather not ask yourself; Mithras simply needed new, young, and energetic leadership. Letting it fall wasn't an option; it was the eastern bulwark, keeping the wicked fireworshippers out of the door. Letting it fall would mean opening the gates to them.

''And because Mithras is the eastern bulwark against the infidel; to let it fall would open up the mainland to them.'' You told him with conviction.

''That I find believable, but don't appeal to me by using religious arguments; you should know better than that. The states of the Near East shall fall and crumble one day. Don't act like your faith is in existential danger; it isn't. As for your other plea, if its role isn't played out, do tell me then, how is it to be saved? Will you single-handedly save it from itself? Or are you waiting for some promising young man to stand up, claim the throne, and save the realm in its darkest hour?'' He said in half a mocking tone.

''I, I don't have a real plan. But that's also partially why I came before you, Your most August Majesty. The players are moving too fast for me to act, and I am not much of a schemer. Can you help me in this regard?'' You asked him.

The Emperor put his hand to his chin, before he spoke: ''You haven't really explained the situation in full, I sense that there are more players in the game than You, the crusaders, the Mithradians, and the infidels, as you so graciously describe them. Lay it out in full, the entire picture, and I shall see if I can help you, preferably inside.'' He took off; you noticed that his robes dragged along on the ground; he was obviously lifting himself off the ground. When he had entered the throne room, he floated up to the raised podium the throne was placed upon and sat down; he motioned you with a hand to begin your briefing.

He listened with quiet interest as you told him of Prokopios, who was planning a coup to then kick the rest of you out. Of Raymond, the Aurilién, who was in the process of carving out his own kingdom, of the Doge, who had contacted you to brew a plot to counter the coup that Prokopios was brewing. About how Emperor Anastasios was effectively broken, no longer able to effectively counter the plots of the snakes who now tore at his empire

>>6181181
''From what you have told me, I can conclude that the situation you described is dire, there are too many enemies for you or the Emperor of whom you speak to take on at once, if you aren't able to save them all. You should learn to prioritise; it is a hard and often cruel lesson to learn, but if you want to save Mithras, you should not try to take on all the problems at once. Stop, analyse, and evaluate the threats, then go after the one you consider the greatest foe. Deciding your attention and resources can and will overwhelm you on all fronts, rather, you should give ground on one front so you can go all in on the other. By defeating them in detail, you will have the advantage. Now tell me, who do you consider the greatest threat to Mithras?''

>Raymond, Duc de Montpèlerins
>Prokopios Maniakes
>Carlo Scandellago, the Doge of Alotoro

>>6181184
>Carlo Scandellago, the Doge of Alotoro
He's rich, has influence over the crusaders in transport and supplies, controls the flow into and out of the country and can simply run away and return later to try again.

>>6181184
>Prokopios Maniakes

>>6181184
>Prokopios Maniakes

though this guy is right: >>6181335
that's more of an indirect danger

>>6181184
>Raymond, Duc de Montpèlerins
making his own kingdom..

''Prokopios Maniakes'' You told the Emperor. You hadn't met in person, but from what you could remember from what his brother told you. He was a plotting and scheming blackheart. A claimant to the throne through his marriage to one of the old emperor's sisters, late in the year, he had Anastasios' eldest son murdered.

Were he to take the throne, he would most certainly be counter-couped by the Doge, who would install a puppet of his own. Carlo had made that much clear when he contacted you. The simplest way to foil both of these plans is to eliminate Prokopios; no coup means no countercoup, or at least the Doge would need to find another excuse to tighten his grasp on Mithras.

''Ah, the schemer, a more elusive creature than the merchant or the would-be king. I have seen many of his ilk, both domestic and foreign, in my time. These types of men work from behind the scenes and have their pasties do the dirty work. You told me his brother was raising an army for him? Hmm, obviously he is relying on the courtiers and the imperial guards to install him if he is unpopular with the army. If the emperor is on death's door, as you tell me, he will probably attempt to stage his coup as soon as the official word is out. He'll go to a place where he can claim popular support, have the senate acclaim him emperor by the force of the populace before giving the palace guard their bribes or otherwise compensating them for not stopping them.'' He said

He continued ''Now, the important thing about plots like these is that they revolve around one man, the central spider in the web; removing Prokopios will make the conspiracy collapse in on itself. You said he is in hiding? He'll probably remain as such until he thinks the time is ready to strike. He won't be hiding in the capital; it's too risky, and I doubt he is willing to live in the sewers for a prolonged period of time. Not only that, but he will stay somewhere, say, in a place where he has local support so that when he moves openly, he isn't at risk of being stopped.''

''Like in his home province?'' Someone blurted out.

>>6181940
He lowered his finger in approval. ''Exactly, he'll be safe there where he is the most popular and has the most connections. He won't hide in one of his estates, of course, but somewhere out of sight. A place where the imperial government isn't likely to look.''

''Like in the mountains?'' You pondered about.

''A good guess, but he wants to be on his feet quickly; no, he'll stay close to the coast to take the boat to Elisonikon. The coast around these parts is rocky and steep; aside from the beaches, the cliffs make up a good part of Mithras. Many of these cliffs have caves in them; in the past, pirates operated from them; he could hide in one of these.'' He said.

''And how am I supposed to know what cave he's staying in? How am I to know that he is even staying in a cave?'' You said.

''You aren't, but tell me, are there any buildings that the average Mithradian governor would rather not search, anything that would require so much effort that they don't consider it worth the effort?''

''Well, I doubt he is hiding in a church; those are usually off-limits. Now there are the… the monasteries. Isolated and secure, and many wouldn't dare lay a finger upon it. But I am not certain as to what monastery he would be hiding in.''

''Hmm, you had said you had met his brother and that you took over the army he was supposed to raise. While you were there, did you find or look for any correspondence?'' Emperor Titus asked you.

''His what?'' you asked.

''His letters, any exchanges between the two brothers, or any information that could lead us to his whereabouts,'' Emperor Titus clarified. "That could be a valuable clue in finding him."

You realised you had been a fool; you facepalmed. And told him you hadn't.

''Then the obvious course of action is to find whatever remains of those letters. His orders, regular letters, and anything else that can be of use to us.''

''Well, I doubt that Prokopios signed off his letters with a return address,'' you said sarcastically.

''That may be so, but there could still be important clues: instructions, unintended clues, or perhaps even some encrypted messages.'' As soon as he finished talking, you turned to the men.

''Well, what are you waiting for? That little layer of snow outside won't stop you; go out and find me those letters at that old camp, we met Cephalas. Go!''

With speed, they took off; hopefully they would be back before New Year's with the letters.

To see the Success of the search for the letters, roll a 1d100 (DC 50)

Rolled 28 (1d100)

here goes

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>6181943

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>6181943

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It took a week, the search. In the meantime, you regained some lost sleeping times and awaited their return, as well as the coming of New Year's Eve. Two days before the end of the year, they returned. They brought a variety of letters, some on paper, the others on parchment. All of them were in Mithradian. Some of them were from other men; they weren't relevant to you, and you put them aside as you sorted them out. You managed to find the oldest letter and read it out loud.

''Cephalas, you miserable drunk.'' You began.

''Though you are my brother, you have brought shame upon our family name with your failure to understand the most basic of my plots. Instead of using the money I entrusted you with to bribe the commander of the palace guards and the eunuchs, you instead spend it all on drinks and whores. You are to redeem yourself before my eyes, and as your elder brother and emperor, I am within my rights to do so. Our nephew, the head of the Olcis monastery, has been so good as to give his rightful overlord the shelter he so needs from the vile persecution of the false emperor. Because I know that you aren't capable of understanding complex plans, I shall keep it simple on the matter of instructions.''

''A lovely example of fraternal affection.'' Ehrenfried quipped. Which caused some quiet chuckles.

You continued after drinking some water: ''As to my instructions, they are as follows: raise an army; it matters not what size, to destabilise the now eastern frontiers; cut off Trorlinos from any communications before marching on the coast to distract the central government; when you have done so, I shall enact my part of the plan. Do not fail me again.''

''Burn this letter upon receipt.''

''Your Emperor and brother, Prokopios.''

>>6182331
So, he is hiding in some monastery. In Oclis, wherever that is. Hopefully, he hasn't spooked out by moving to some other hiding place. Then again, judging by the wine stains on the letter itself, Cephalas probably drank himself into a stupor rather than burning the letter.

''Where did you find this letter?'' Titus asked.

''Under his bed, we did find some scraps in the hearth, so he probably thought that he had burnt them all, but his love of the bottle shall now lead us to his brother,'' a knight told him.

''Ah, brothers, they can be both your greatest allies and your greatest enemies. My brothers were the unambitious sort, but my father's brothers were a constant headache to him,'' Titus mused.

The rest of the day, you looked over a map of Mithras, trying to find some clue as to where Oclis was on the map. And it was found, not the monastery, but a tiny speck that had the words Oclia Peaninsula written on it. The Oclian peninsula, if there was a place where the old villain was hiding, that would be it. You immediately made plans to ride to that place, but not before asking Titus whether he'll be gone before too long.

''You have until the 22nd of Tepidus (I); after that, I shall rejoin the dead. So you'll have time to speak to me again. Best of luck to you.''

You rode hard and light; you did your best to stay off the main roads and with light protection. You reached the coast on New Year's Day. And reached the peninsula by the 5th. You ordered the horseman to hang back while you dismounted to peer from some bushes.

''Right, the cave is probably the best entry to infiltrate the monastery without being seen. There are some row boats nearby. We should do this lightly, I suppose, with no kicking in the front door in full armour to cut down random monks, but stealthily go through the cave to infiltrate it. No armour, that way we might be able to swim our way out if necessary.'' Ehrenfried told you.

>Let's wait until it is night before we move in; it shall make us harder to detect.
>We can see more in the daytime. And if we row during prayer hour, we can be unseen.

>>6182331
>We can see more in the daytime. And if we row during prayer hour, we can be unseen.

hide in sunlight

>>6182332
>We can see more in the daytime. And if we row during prayer hour, we can be unseen.

>>6182332
>We can see more in the daytime. And if we row during prayer hour, we can be unseen.

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That night, at the temporary camp you had set up, you held a council of war; the plan was as follows: You and Ehrenfried would go in; both of you could swim, and the boat you found only had a place for two people. You start rowing at about seven o'clock, when the monks would be summoned for a two-hour praying session. Then you would find your way in from whatever impromptu harbour you found in the cave before finding and killing Prokopios. That much you were certain of; kidnapping him wasn't an option. You have to drag him out of here, while presumably the monks wouldn't be very happy to let you leave with him; no, you would kill him in whatever dark hole he had hidden himself in. It is a bold and risky plan, but one that can work, especially since most monks are sworn to non-violence.

You pushed the boat into the water at dawn, rowed into a concealed position, and waited for the bells to signal the calls to prayer, the waves, and the chanting, as well as the bells, which would keep you unheard as you rowed.

''Well, this is different.'' You said as you put your back into the motion of the rowing.

''No armour, no horses, no lances. I feel more like an assassin than a knight.''

''Yeah, well, this is the type of mission you can't kick in the proverbial door to challenge Prokopios to a duel. This very much is a cloak-and-dagger type operation. We should be swift and unseen. Do you have a knife or a dagger with you? Good, we might see more use out of it than from our swords.'' Ehrenfried said as he rowed along with you.

You continued on without saying another word. As you got closer, you began hearing the chanting from one of the rooms, and the water got calmer as you began to enter the cave.

It was a dim, dank and all around eerie cave, but small enough, you docked the boat at a tiny pier that had been built there and then went up the stairs to the undercroft you presumed.

''No guards, so he must really think himself secure. Is it locked?'' Ehrenfried asked as you came to the door.

''No, we can enter.'' You replied.

The two of you picked up the pace as you tried to get out of the basement as soon as possible. You went up the stairs. And entered one of the corridors. The entire place was deserted as they had all gone to the chapel to pray. Nevertheless, you stuck close to the wall, making certain to peek before going somewhere; if there ever was a place the two of you stuck out, it would be this place. Even without your surcoats or armour on, it was easy to see that you were intruders.

You avoided the chapel and went in the other direction to the courtyard before spotting a monk where he should not be.

>>6182498
''Look, why isn't that old man attending the morning service?'' You asked.

''The hell if I know; perhaps he got lost; let's shadow him,'' Ehrenfried replied.

The two of you shadowed the old monk to another courtyard. Where the monk stopped to talk with another monk, thinking quickly, you jumped over the fence to crawl to their location to overhear their conversation.

''Now remember, Alexios, it is your turn to bring food to Prokopios; with the rest at the morning service, you can go and bring it without raising suspicion from the outer members. The third wooden flower on your left hand on the panels, remember?'' Some other fellow said

''Of course, what does the caged bird have for breakfast this time?''

''Grilled fish and bread with goat cheese. If he throws it away again, I'll tell the abbot I will no longer cook his meals for him.''

''Ah, he's a pain; hopefully, that ship that he's always talking about will come to take him to his throne, because I think my time on this earth will shorten for every day I have to see him.''

''I share your sentiment, brother. Let's hope for the best; just bring him his food. If he dies of starvation, he has no one to blame but himself.''

The two went their separate ways, and Alexios came to a room that was decorated with wooden panels. He twisted the third wooden flower on his left and opened a creaking panel, the size of a small man. He went in and closed the hidden door behind him. Taking the food with him.

The two of you quickly moved into the room, waited for the monk to be out of distance before entering the same hidden door, which led to a staircase that went downstairs. You picked up the pace as you descended, making sure to close the door behind you; you weren't cads, after all.

As you went along the narrow corridor, you came upon a side room, no lock.

''Let's hide in there, wait until the monk has left, and then we shall pay Prokopios a surprise visit.'' Ehrenfried said as he opened the door.

''So,'' Ehrenfried whispered. ''Do you want to kill him immediately, or do you want to interrogate him first?''

>Keep it simple, keep it clean. Kill him as soon as you lay eyes on him.
>Let's make the piggie squeal; interrogate him.

>>6182500
>Let's make the piggie squeal; interrogate him.
But if he makes too much noise (like calling for help out loud) we take him hostage or kill him.

>>6182500
>Keep it simple, keep it clean. Kill him as soon as you lay eyes on him.

Hate to pass up on the opportunity but so much can go wrong.00

>>6182500
>Keep it simple, keep it clean. Kill him as soon as you lay eyes on him.
Gotta gut the weasel

>>6182500
>Keep it simple, keep it clean. Kill him as soon as you lay eyes on him.

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This was something too delicate to leave to chance. No, you would kill him then and there; this farce had gone on long enough, and from what you could remember from Cephalas, he could scream quite loudly. But the reasoning is sound: No Prokopios means no claimant; it also means ringleader for the plot. Without him, it will burn itself out quite handily.

''I shall keep it simple, keep it clean. We will kill him as soon as we lay eyes on him. No half measures, not this time.'' You whispered.

''Good, I forgot to bring any rope, so the interrogation would have been longer than necessary.'' Ehrenfried whispered back.

The two of you waited in the dark until you heard the footsteps come along and leave the other way out. You put the door ajar. Waiting until the monk was out of the way, you went back to the corridor.

''Now remember, you should use your knife or dagger for this. Grab his mouth with your free hand and then slit his throat with the other. Sneak up on him to avoid him raising the alarm.'' Ehrenfried said.

At the end of the corridor, there was a door, behind which you heard the clattering of cutlery against a silver plate and the smacking of someone eating his meal. You saw that the monk hadn't properly closed the door, and you could fit through the gap.

You could feel the beat of your heart in your throat as you came closer to him. He had just put the fork into the fish when you put your hand over his throat. You quickly moved your elbow down over his chest to lock him in place before slitting his throat.

Prokopios died with surprise still in his eyes. When you did look at his face, he looked a lot like his brother, though with paler, pastier skin and with darker hair. More weasel-like but calmer than Cephalas. Prokopios' lifeless body slumped to the ground, blood pooling around him. As you wiped the blade clean on his robe, you couldn't help but wonder what fate Cephalas awaited.

''Well, with that done, we should find a way out of here.'' Ehrenfried said as he grabbed a piece of the bread. ''Want a piece?''

''Sure, no goat cheese though; I prefer it plain.'' Goat cheese was an acquired taste, and you never did really like it; no, you preferred the normal cheese made of cow milk.

The two of you quickly went out of the secret compartment of the monastery. You wanted to go back to the caves, but as you went to the section facing the beach where your army was located, you ran into a monk. He immediately ran away, screaming about intruders in the monastery.

''Scheisse, schnell, they'll block off the path to the caves before we know it. Come, there always is a way out.'' Ehrenfried said as you began to run.

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>>6182889

Thinking quickly, you ran to the northern section of the monastery and opened one of the doors that led to a cell of one of the monks. It had a window, so you quickly grabbed the monk by the shoulders and threw him out, then you locked the door before blocking it with his bed. While Ehrenfried opened the shutters that consisted of the window.

''Konrad is on the lookout for us; blow that horn you have with you to signal them to the beach.'' You told Ehrenfried.

Ehrenfried did just that, and while an angry mob was busy assembling behind the door, which you had now placed all the furniture you could find against. The two of you stepped up to the window.

''Ever jumped from this high?'' You asked.

''No, and I'd rather not after this, but we don't have much of a choice now, do we?'' Ehrenfried replied, looking down at the waves below. With a deep breath, you both climbed out onto the ledge. You took another deep breath, tightened your grip on your sword, closed your eyes, and jumped.

You felt the wind slide past you as you quickly descended, diving feet first into the sea. You took a deep plunge, but within a few seconds you were on the surface, as was Ehrenfried. Both of you quickly began swimming to the shore, where the horsemen had just assembled.

Exhausted, you came onto the shore, wet and cold. You were quickly given your horses. And while the monks had only now figured out that you were on the shore, by the time they would come to this beach, you had already left. You stopped once to change clothes and dry yourself before riding off quickly.

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>>6182891
There was no denying it. You had effectively saved the imperial government, or at least given it a new lease on life. The Dodge, the Mizarians, and Raymond remained out there, menacing the Mithradian cause. But you had for now brought it some temporary stability; within the month, Prokopios plot will be relegated to the dustbin of history. You hoped that the succession would be a cleaner affair when Anastasios died.

-A year in review-

With the arrival of the crusaders, the tide has been turned in regard to the struggle for the central island. In the utmost north, a triumvirate of crusaders has, at great cost to themselves, captured the fortresses that guarded the passes there; this has in turn freed up manpower for Mitrhas to use elsewhere. In the centre, you have done much the same, restoring control over a sparsely populated but resource-rich set of valleys, which can now supply a resurgent warmachine. The good news seems to be rolling in, as with the coming of the new year, more and more of the faithful shall come to bolster the ranks of the crusaders.

Unfortunately, there are a few stains on all this; both Raymond de Montpelerin, who now styles himself as the Crusader King of Amaliona, as well as the Doge of Alotoro, seem to be using the guise of the crusade for their personal ambition. The ire of the Mithradians seems to be on Raymond for now, though it is the Doge who probably has the more dangerous designs on their empire.

As for yourself, as you are warming yourself in front of the hearth fire, you wonder what to do next, come next spring, when once more the campaigning season is open to you. Marching to the shore is the obvious option; by driving the Mizarians from this island, you could solidify your position here and fulfil your duty. On the other hand, apprehending Raymond could be another objective that you could focus on, as the Doge is out of reach for now. And then there is the last option: Technically, you have already fulfilled your duty in regard to the crusade and are now free to return home at your own leisure. If you so please, an option you normally wouldn't consider, but with the amount of antics from both the Mithradians and the crusaders, you do sometimes consider cleaning your hands of this mess and returning home.

For a new campaign, you shall:

>Finish off what I started; the infidel still has the highest priority.
>Raymond must and shall be removed; the crusade can wait for that.
>I have had enough. I am going home, back to Greifswald.

>>6182893
>Finish off what I started; the infidel still has the highest priority.

>>6182893
>Finish off what I started; the infidel still has the highest priority.
Then by joining hands with the triumvirate we can get Raymond to back down. Some stability restored to the land, infidels and leaches expunged. Job done. Rewards given to us and the other crusaders. some may stay as a pseudo Varangian guard, some get religious artifacts/titles, loads of gold and gifts to all participants and maybe some trade concessions/discounts. We bring as much knowledge from the old emperors summer palace. Get home fight amongs ourselves again or have a temporary peace due to the comradery of the crusade. Simple as.

>>6182893
>Finish off what I started; the infidel still has the highest priority.

The Heathens must be destroyed and the Emperor owes us a Princess

>>6183084
You have given me an idea.

>>6182893
>>Finish off what I started; the infidel still has the highest priority.

It wouldn't hurt to both setvan example for other crusaders, and show the Mithradians that we are not all untrustworthy scoundrels.

>>6182893
>Finish off what I started; the infidel still has the highest priority.

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It would be strange for you to distract you with the sideshows that the Doge and Raymond (not that you would ever give him the king prefix). If you can drive the Mizarians from Endoxonisi, the Alotoran navy could block off the island from the eastern ones. While in an ideal situation, you would drive them from the archipelago altogether, there is only so much you can do, and you wouldn't give the Mithradians more than they could chew. No, the rest should be recovered by the Mithradians themselves. You were here to help, but if you had to constantly salvage the matter on your own, you might as well crown yourself emperor or at least be richly compensated. Money, secret technologies, or perhaps the most prestigious reward would be the hand of a princess, preferably born in the purple. That would greatly enhance the prestige of the house of Adlershorst and would give any future progeny equal footing with the crowned heads of Argalis, at least in terms of bloodlines. Father had once tried to broker a betrothal for you with one of the northern kingdoms, but they had rejected any prospects on the grounds of your family's recent entry into the ranks of the high nobility. It was, and is, one of those things your father has remained insecure over. And it was something you would have to deal with too one day.

However, before you can reap, you must sow. The Mizarians had offered you enough pounds of silver for some of your expensive projects, which you could finance. The family of Gülhan had offered the weight of a donkey in a ransom, so Adalhard had a donkey stuffed with fodder before the negotiations. The money that this freed up you used to hire and reopen the miners and mines for their iron and coal. You had Grungri fire up the forges with the coal and the iron to make new batches of steel, and you had some of the camp smiths moved there as well. Aside from new swords, spears, poleaxes, lances, armour, and the other basic necessities, you hired up most of the cart and wheelwrights in the vicinity as well as most of the spoked wheels for what would come next.

While Trorlinos might be the only major fortified city in the vicinity of the northern valley you had chosen to campaign in, the same could not be said if you were to come closer to the coast. Most of the fortified cities in Mithras were primarily along the coast, on account of the relative peacefulness that islands knew. If you were to take them, you would need the tools to crack open the shells.

>>6183662
In Castana, you had hired a Master Alfonso Dellagati, a specialised siege engineer; he would help you in this regard. You had given him the old instructions of the Isidorian siege engines to work with and told him to modernise them. Traditionally, such war machines would be assembled on the spot and dismantled when the city or castle was taken. But, inspired by the legionary legacy you had been in touch with for a long time, you decided upon a deviation of the traditional methods. You wouldn't do something as stupid as nailing the base of a trebuchet on the floor of a cart or anything. Trebuchets are too tall for that sort of thing; Master Dellagati instead developed a ballista that had all the modern advances of some models of crossbows, as he augmented the lever with which one would string the bow with some gears. By placing the lever on one of the gears, which can't roll back thanks to its design, reloading could be done much quicker. He also added some gears on the beams that kept it upright in a firing arc so that it could be aimed better and added some larger wheels for ease of transport, as he made them so they could be towed by the regular carts.

It would not be long before Imperator Titus would return to the dead, so you asked them about the flaming weapons that were used in the campaigns you had read about. You believed that such a weapon could at least damage either their morale in the field or damage their structures in the sieges; as for knocking down their walls, you would rely on the trebuchets.

''Now, you know how to distil alcohol, like wine or beer, right.?'' You nodded; you were no vintner or brewer, but you knew the basics behind it.

''If you were to distil some alcoholic substances long enough, you would be able to extract a very flammable substance; it's poisonous to drink as well and has a very distinct scent. I am no alchemist, but the laboratory with the installation equipment should still work. You should pour it into a clay pot for storage; be very careful in that regard, as it is very flammable; no candles and torches are allowed in the laboratory for that matter. Now, you do use it; be sure that there is something that could easily catch fire, like wooden buildings or whatever, as you most certainly have seen; there aren't many of those around, or at least not that have been plastered or otherwise hidden. Now most buildings here have wooden support structures under their shingles. I remember we would always fire a regular round to bypass the bricks or rooftiles before we would fire the flaming ammunition, so I would recommend you do the same. Even when you are preparing to fire these things, you should be careful, as you need to light the contents of the pot before firing them, and if you're not careful, they could burn down the siege engines. There are some empty pots and bolts for that matter, so you can produce as much as you want.'' He thus explained the basics of it to you.

File: The Northern Valley.png (437 KB, 1829x1677)

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>>6183663
Within the day, the section of the palace where the alchemical laboratory was located soon was drenched in a very distinctive smell. The pots that contained the substance were placed tightly in a special cart to be placed apart from the rest because of the danger it posed. Still, as long as it was kept away from any fires or, for that matter, away from morons who wanted a taste, the stuff was relatively harmless.

You waited a few months more for the winter to pass and the early spring rains, yet spring was in the air, and you had decided to spend the three months between New Year's Day and the official start of spring producing as many siege engines (both ballistas and disassemble trebuchets) and pots of the flammable substance, which had earned itself the nickname ''Flammenwasser'' or Flame water, because of the transparent appearance of the liquid.

You had prepared well for this campaign. Not only that, but you had hired extra drivers and carts with steeds for them to drive, stocked up on supplies, and mapped out the old roads and trails.

Your main objective would be the city of Isadia, the main population centre of that part of the island. Further to the north was another city, but it was for one of the northern three to take; as for Raymond, you hoped that he would distract the Mizarians down south while you advanced, yet you also knew that you would need to take the city as soon as possible, for if Raymond was victorious, he would set his sights on it as well. If you take it before he can, you can claim the victor's spoils; if not, he would most certainly demand to be part of the siege.

It was these thoughts that kept you busy as you marched through the valleys, up and down and up again. The roads twisted and turned to the tune of the hills, the mountains, and the rivers. You crossed the river near an old toll bridge, which had a tiny garrison of Mizarians in it. The vanguard managed to assault them in the night, and there were no survivors. You had marked this place in your maps, as there were two smaller towns here. One was further down south in the valley, and taking it would cost you time but would clear out the hinterland for your supplies and communications; moving straight ahead, with you going for the town that would bring you directly on the road to Isadia, would keep you ahead of schedule but leave potential threats from the rear untended.

>Option 1, the straight road to Isadia. (Will have to take a 1d100 roll [DC 50] to see if there weren't any enemies in the valley.)
>Option 2: Go down south and make certain there isn't any funny business. (+1 to Raymond's advance)

Raymond's advance tracks his progress to Isadia; if it reaches ten, he will be before the gates of Isadia.

0/10 Raymond is yet to break camp.

>>6183664
>Option 1, the straight road to Isadia. (Will have to take a 1d100 roll [DC 50] to see if there weren't any enemies in the valley.)

>>6183664
>Option 1, the straight road to Isadia. (Will have to take a 1d100 roll [DC 50] to see if there weren't any enemies in the valley.)
Go fast at first then we can slow down. The enemy doesn't know our movement (yet).

>>6183664
>>Option 2: Go down south and make certain there isn't any funny business. (+1 to Raymond's advance)

We shouldn't risk any threats to our rear.

>>6183664
>Option 1, the straight road to Isadia. (Will have to take a 1d100 roll [DC 50] to see if there weren't any enemies in the valley.)

Time to kick the shit out of some heretics

>>6183672
>>6183691
>>6183717
>>6183825
Righty-ho, The straight path it is, roll a 1d100 (DC 50) if you would please. Best of three, you know the drill.

>>6183840

Rolled 30 (1d100)

huh Ill try again

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>6183840

Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>6183840

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This would need to be a rapid advance; there would be no time for distractions. You didn't know where Raymond was, but he will be marching upon Isadia as well. It was the greatest price in the vicinity. Him taking it would strengthen his would-be kingdom even further. If you take it, he would be contained in the valleys and river deltas of Amaliona. It was a strong defensive position, but alas, if you controlled both of the exits, he would be locked up in his own kingdom. To that end, taking the city of Isadia would be the main imperative. You would risk it and go straight ahead; you would beat the dusty trail and march out of the valley as soon as you could.

You marched along the road and crossed the bridge near the town of Cebros, where you stocked up on fresh water. From there, you would come upon the Edranan gates. The mountain pass that led out to the eastern coast and plains. If there was going to be a battle, it was going to be there.

To that end, you had sent out scouts to feel out if there were any enemies blocking the road. They confirmed as much, a small but able force was blocking the mountain pass. And you would have to get past them one way or the other.

Due to the terrain, you had been forced to march in a column, long and thin. Thankfully, you had put one of the carts, pulling one of the ballistas, in the front. Unfortunately, you had left the cart containing the burning ammunition in the back, so you would have to do with the regular bolts.

You had the column broken up, and the men made ready in a standard double line formation, with the horsemen on the flanks. The enemy has a strong defensive position where the pass is at its most narrow.

It is nine o'clock in the morning. Each turn, about two hours will pass. Defeating the enemies in a day will keep you ahead of Raymond; failure to do so will give him +1 to his advance for each day that you are delayed by battles and other distractions.

Your army's morale: High

Enemy army morale: medium

Your orders.
>Have the ballista pepper them from affar. Keep our distance for now.
>Press hard against them, drive them from their advantaougoes position.
>Have the cavalry find out if there are any fords to bypass the enemy lines.

>>6184362
>Have the ballista pepper them from affar. Keep our distance for now.
>Concentrate fire on one of the units and then rush the gap with cav and infantry.

>>6184362
>Press hard against them, drive them from their advantageous position

>>6184362
>>Have the ballista pepper them from affar. Keep our distance for now.

>>6184362
Support >>6184372

You had observed the enemy lines from afar, and you had come to one conclusion. If you were to use the Ballista to weaken their morale, then send in the cavalry infantry to create and exploit a gap in their ranks, you could easily win this battle, hopefully before lunchtime.

Roll a 1d100 to see the effectiveness of the attack. (DC 70.)

Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>6184557
1

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>6184557
2

Rolled 46 (1d100)

>>6184557

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The bolts of the ballista sang as they flew through the air, conjoined by the wailing of the crossbow bolts. Indeed, the enemy itself seemed to be intimidated by the sheer weight of the rain you were raining upon them; the ballista bolts sometimes missed, and at other times they didn't have much of an effect at all. But more often than not, they hit, and they did so hard. Ploughing down entire ranks of troops as you watched in satisfaction.

You had them bombarded a few more times before you would press them and hopefully break them. You then gave the order; the cavalry would break through, followed by the infantry to split and rout them.

The advance of the cavalry went as well as you could expect someone riding uphill. While they did break through the gaps you had made, they didn't do so with the speed they would need to break their morale, and soon enough some of them got into a fight they were only saved from by the arrival of the infantry. It was the classical dilemma; the terrain was against you, and the borrow path you had to take meant that the advancing troops became clogged, leaving fewer men able to effectively engage the enemy. This would have to change, or else the cavalry could become endangered.

Enemy moral: Brittle

>Pull back, regroup; they are already wavering, so we should push them the old-fashioned way.
>On the double! Have the footman rush over to close the gap between them and the cavalry.
>Use our greater depth in ranks to push hard, have the cavalry disentagle to focus on the enemy archers.

>>6185151
>>Use our greater depth in ranks to push hard, have the cavalry disentagle to focus on the enemy archers.

We're already on the cusp of pushing through them, may as well press it.

>>6185151
>Use our greater depth in ranks to push hard, have the cavalry disentagle to focus on the enemy archers.

>>6185151
>Use our greater depth in ranks to push hard, have the cavalry disentagle to focus on the enemy archers.

>>6185151
>>Use our greater depth in ranks to push hard, have the cavalry disentagle to focus on the enemy archers.
pushhh

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There was a problem, and the solution was quite obvious: if the opening was too small for you to go through, you will simply widen the gap. All that was needed to widen this particular gap was a little momentum, and what better momentum than a few packed ranks of zealous Tautens and vengeful Mithradians? The horsemen up ahead can save themselves by riding after the archers.

In the hours that followed, the enemy slowly began to give way, and soon after, with them starting to rout, little by little they started to fall apart.

As midday came, the last Mizarians were being chased from the pass; you had the army march across the pass to pause for a light midday meal. From here on out, there would be no more up and down, no more endless doddering in the mountains and valleys; here, you could fully deploy the cavalry in full force. And manoeuvre freely.

However, with you and the army out of the mountain ranges, you will no longer be shielded by them either. Here you would be open to attack from all directions if you didn't scout and reconnoitre properly. Here in the open, you would march over the open plains and fields. You would move more freely and quickly here.

The open fields gave room for the salty eastern winds, which would provide a refreshing change from the stagnant air of the mountains. You continued on, down from the high altitudes you had been fighting in thus far.

By the evening you had reached a river. From here on out, you would spend the time before bed surveying the map for any potential strongholds or outposts the enemy might have. And you did find one. You could, if you wanted to, cross the ford a few hundred metres downstream or march upon the bridge a kilometre or five further downstream. Taking it would lock down the northern part of the plateau, though it would probably cost you time.

>We shall wast no time, Isaria awaits, and Raymond must not come close.
>We should look at the bigger picture, and attempt to capture as much territory as possible.

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>6185642
As for Raymond's progress.

0-25: Raymond has suffered a setback, and suffer -1 to his advance

25-40: Raymond has been stalemated: 0 to his advance

40-85: Raymond makes progress: +1 to his advance

85-100: Raymond makes great progress: +2 to his advance.

>>6185642
>We should look at the bigger picture, and attempt to capture as much territory as possible.
supplies, supplies and fallback lines. Never rush and not secure your logistics for a siege. (for a decisive battle it may work though.)

>>6185642
>We should look at the bigger picture, and attempt to capture as much territory as possible.

>>6185642
>>We should look at the bigger picture, and attempt to capture as much territory as possible.

>>6185642
>>We should look at the bigger picture, and attempt to capture as much territory as possible.

>>6185642
>We should look at the bigger picture, and attempt to capture as much territory as possible.

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In a siege, it is important for the army to gain and retain the hinterlands of the besieged cities to keep control and ensure the safety of the supplies for the camp. Obviously, you cannot patrol the countryside in its entirety while the vast majority of the army is stuck in camp besieging; in such a scenario, you can only send out the cavalry to patrol, but you would prefer not having the cavalry or anyone patrol at all.

As soon as you would come before the Iasida, you would need everyone to help with the investment of the city. Aside from that, the idea of Mizarian raiding parties on your camp was something you did not want to happen, especially not on an open plateau like this, to that end. You resolved to capture and clear out as much territory as you could.

It would be a gamble against the clock; too much time spent clearing out the countryside could leave an opening for Raymond to pull up to Iasida before you could, but you would roll the dice if it meant a safe passage to Iasida.

To that end, you marched east to the bridge over the river; you took it after a two-day siege by storm. From there on out, you marched along the coast, clearing out the coastal fishing villages and towns. You let the great eastern harbours further down south be for now. After you take Iasida, it would be next in line, for it would give the Alotorans and the Mithradians a naval base in the east. You then went further inland, driving out the small garrisons that had been scattered across the land.

It was in the middle of the spring when you felt confident enough to attack Iasida. Though scouts had brought you a report on something that could either be a pain or a blessing, a large Mizarian army was gathering to the south. Either coming for you or for Raymond, who allegedly is fielding a large enough army, bolstered by his newly created vassal lords. On the one hand, you could strike first, hitting them before they can properly organise and move upon wherever they were going; on the other hand, this army could potentially bog down Raymond for the time being, keeping him one step back from your own plans and giving you a wide timetable for the siege, though it is the riskier of the two options.

>Make the gambit, gamble that the Mizarians will go after Raymand instead of you.
>Take the initaitive, and send these heathens running to the hills.

>>6186705
>Make the gambit, gamble that the Mizarians will go after Raymand instead of you.
I think that army is closer to Raymond's army if I'm correct.

>>6186705
>Make the gambit, gamble that the Mizarians will go after Raymand instead of you.

>>6186705
>Make the gambit, gamble that the Mizarians will go after Raymand instead of you.

>>6186705
>>Take the initaitive, and send these heathens running to the hills.

If I were them, I would ignore Raymonds army and assault us while the city garrison sallies out to take our rear.

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You would roll the dice and gamble on the idea that the Mizarians would go for Raymond rather than you. To that end, you had the cavalry screen your movements, making it look like you were withdrawing while in reality you were moving to the east further away from the Mizarians, who set off to meet Raymond in battle.

The stakes were high, and you wouldn't normally gamble in such a manner; it was also technically a deception of men who formally were your allies to take the brunt of the enemy while you claimed the prize. When you had set out from Greifswald, you hadn't imagined yourself doing such a thing; no such actions were unchivalrous and dishonourable, but the realities of your situation had made you do things you would've never considered doing. In many ways this has been an inheritance from your mother's side; she is, and will remain, ever the icy-eyed mask of court politics. She had thought you and your sisters about the more cynical facts of life and about how not all those who wear surcoats are as noble as their status might suggest. And as you rode on, over the plains and hills, you had come to one conclusion: You might have left Greifswald a boy, but you would return a man. And you already had some plans for what you might do in your time on the throne.

The defences of Iasida are at least a century or more out of date. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a typical Mithradian city, with good thick walls made of brick and filled with rubble. It lacks the citadel of Trorlinos or the castles typical of the mainland, but it will have to be taken regardless. To that end, you set up camp outside their reach for now and order the cavalry to harass and cut off all the traffic coming in and out of the city. You had the infantry erect a palisade and earthworks to act as the headquarters for now; you also ordered a latrine ditch and ditch to dump the dead in to stave off disease. Though the summer would probably lay low enough men with diseases in time for them to die in the autumn. When the camp would be a mud pool if you weren't careful. You had the artillery set up on the hill; other war engines could be constructed in time as well. The next morning, the men would assemble the trebuchet to bombard the city. While all of that was going on, you had enough wood left in reserve for something else. You

>Ordered the building of a battering ram and siege towers for a quick assault.
>Ordered the start of a tunnel, either to undermine the walls or to somehow infiltrate the city.
>Had the men begin investing the city, by breaking the terrain open with a wooden palisade and some earthworks.

>>6186922
>>Had the men begin investing the city, by breaking the terrain open with a wooden palisade and some earthworks.

>>6186922
>Ordered the building of a battering ram and siege towers for a quick assault.

>>6186922
>Ordered the building of a battering ram and siege towers for a quick assault.

Time isn't on our side.

>>6186922
>Ordered the building of a battering ram and siege towers for a quick assault.

>>6186922
>Ordered the building of a battering ram and siege towers for a quick assault.
Always start with an assault. if it works out it saves time. It's a way to avoid a long siege. It however should not be done against super fortresses. That's suicide.

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For this siege, you would need to break in quickly and decisively. You would be in a race against time, either against Raymond or the Mizarians, or the autumn and winter of the year. To that end, you would begin building the siege towers, ladders, and battering ram necessary for the assault. In the days that would follow, you would begin to batter the walls with the artillery, while the actual assault would follow in the days after that.

Still, there was at least one thing that worried you, and that was the lack of cowhides and other flame-resistant materials for the siege towers and battering rams. And if you waited, you could have the smiths in the palace make a purpose-built metal ram to break open the gate instead of the ad-hoc ram being built by the camp smiths.

Would you like to use the flaming ammunition?

>Yes (+10 to targeting the city proper)
>No (+5 to the walls.)

You told the men to aim at the:

>Walls
>The city

>>6187401
>No (+5 to the walls.)
>Walls

Roll a 1d100, (DC: 60) : Base of 50, +5 with outdated defences, +5 due to using ordinary ammunition.

The walls are currently undamaged.

Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>6187432

Rolled 27 (1d100)

>>6187432

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>6187432

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The barrages batter the walls as hard as they could. Though most shots from the trebuchets and ballistas mostly missed or landed in front or behind the city walls.

The sounds that you heard were those of stone battering stone or the shattering of the rooftiles as the boulders plunged themselves through the defences; the garrison, in the meantime, scrambled back and forth in an attempt to somehow counteract the heavy equipment you had brought forth. But aside from a few potshots, they didn't have the ability to really reach you. For that, they would need to commit to either a sally or a raid, which they seemed to be unwilling to do for now.

The siege towers began to arise in earnest. You had climbed to the top of one as they were installing the rope for lowering the gangplank for the assaulting; one thing that you were missing in the supply side of things was the hides necessary for fireproofing both the towers and the battering ram. Without the hides, or some substitute like metal, though that would encumber the already lumbering engines even more, there was a serious risk of the tower being set ablaze by the enemy if you weren't careful.

To that end, you had sent out the horsemen and some of the archers, along with the quartermaster to procure the hides, either by buying them or confiscating the hides or the animals. But it would take a while for them to procure the necessary amount of hides for the engines.

At present the section of the wall you have under bombardment is bruised; it will take a while to take down.

If you were to assault the walls right now, it would be 30 DC (base 50 DC - 25 due to vulnerable siege engines, + 5 due to bruised walls).

Raymond's advance is at 0/10.

It will take 1 turn for ladders to be built. (+3 to the assault DC.)

It will take 2 turns for enough hides to be collected. (+10 to assault DC by mitigating the vulnerability of the engines.)

It will take 4 turns for a specially made ram head to be delivered. (+5 DC due to the upgrade to the battering ram.)

It will take 6 turns for additional artillery to be constructed. (+10 DC when bombarding the walls.)

Would you like to attack now or wait?
>Attack
>Wait

>>6187967
>Wait

We should at least wait for the hides to be procured, to negate the malus.

>>6187967
>Wait

Rolled 19 (1d100)

Raymond's progress to Iasida
0-25: Raymond has suffered a setback, and suffer -1 to his advance

25-40: Raymond has been stalemated: 0 to his advance

40-85: Raymond makes progress: +1 to his advance

85-100: Raymond makes great progress: +2 to his advance.
_________________________________________________
You decided to delay the assault for now, you didn't feel confident enough to order the assault for now, instead you waited, while the trebuchets continued battering the walls.

Would you like to use the flaming ammunition?

>Yes (+10 to targeting the city proper)
>No (+5 to the walls.)

You told the men to aim at the:
>Walls
>The city

>>6188204
>Walls
haha Raymond keeps having bad luck.

>>6188204
>>6188235
And also
>No (+5 to the walls.)

>>6188204
>No
>Walls

Seems like the time to politely offer the city's commander a chance to surrender

>>6188204
>No (+5 to the walls.)
>Walls

Roll a 1d100, (DC: 64) : Base of 50, +5 with outdated defences, +5 due to using ordinary ammunition, +4 due to the walls being battered.

The walls are currently battered .

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>6188583
rolling

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>6188583

Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>6188583

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This time, however, you would score a significant blow; the trebuchets resumed their barrage with renewed precision and ability, spurred on by an increased confidence the crew was gaining as they got accustomed to operating the lumbering beasts of war. One after the other, they landed on the walls, brushing aside the crenelation behind which the defenders were hiding, and collapsing one of the towers with one particularly well-placed shot. The garrison tried to reinforce the walls, though that was in vain, as another round of shots rendered that section of the wall unwalkable. It wasn't a breach, but in theory you could funnel enough ladder through it as to scale the walls, though you weren't sure of the drop if one were to climb the ladder and then drop into the city.

The more you thought about it, the stupider that particular idea seemed, so you scotched it before it even left your mouth. Still, if you kept this up, you might be able to cow the garrison commander into surrender. It would seem that Raymond was too entangled with the Mizarians, so neither would come for the time being. For now, that would mean you still held the initiative, and the cards. Time might be against you, but if the deadline was twelve and the clock just struck one, you had a lot of time to gamble with. Or, as you told your most prominent commanders and lords that evening over dinner.

''I do believe the time for negotiating a surrender is near. If we're lucky, the commander of the garrison has been sufficiently spooked by the towers, ladders, and trebuchets outside the city, and with no help coming for the time being. I hope to take this city as intact as possible, if that is what can secure this land.'' You told them as the appetiser (onion soup with bread and cheese.) was served.

''That will be a disappointment to the men; usually they will get a bonus for all this drudgery by being allowed to plunder such a city, but I suppose that the men haven't yet reached that level of frustration yet,'' Konrad said while stirring the soup.

That is true, but considering your mission here to strengthen Mithras, and not to weaken it, leaving the city a shell of its former self can negate any positive effects a seizure of Iasida might have upon the region. Still, if you were to take the city without having to subject your soldiers to a hard, and most likely costly, storming of the gates and walls, you might be able to consolidate your hold on the region without one blow of your sword, leaving the Mizarians to scramble for the ports and Raymond back to his kingdom.

Will you open negotiations?

>Yes
>No

What shall be your terms? (If you want to negotiate?)

>Magnanimous, there shall be free passage for the city commander and the garrison.
>Generous, free passage for the garrison, but the commander shall be taken hostage to await a ransom.
>Harsh, no free passage, the garrison shall be made to work in rebuilding, and the commander to be taken hostage.
>Write-in

>>6188704
>Yes
>Generous, free passage for the garrison, but the commander shall be taken hostage to await a ransom.
Our men can be happy they won't have to plunder. plundering really happens after a siege went on too long or there were enough casualties.

>>6188704
>Yes
>>Generous, free passage for the garrison, but the commander shall be taken hostage to await a ransom.

>>6188704
>Yes
>Generous, free passage for the garrison, but the commander shall be taken hostage to await a ransom.

>>6188704
>>Yes
>>Generous, free passage for the garrison, but the commander shall be taken hostage to await a ransom.

>>6188704
>Generous, free passage for the garrison, but the commander shall be taken hostage to await a ransom.

You had decided, now would come the time to demand a surrender from the garrison. The commander of the garrison, as well as the governor of the city, if they weren't the same person, would hear your offer. Hopefully they would agree with your offer; if they didn't, you would simply continue the siege for now.

Still, for the occasion, you put on your best surcoat and brushed up the coat of your steed Wittekind, whom you had dressed in tourney caparison. And you tied a great white cloth to a lance as a sign of your diplomatic intentions.

You rode out of the camp slowly, coming to a halt a hundred metres from the gates. You had elected not to wear a helmet as you wanted to be diplomatic in your approach, and wearing it would have made speaking difficult.

Still, as you got closer, you felt vulnerable; you and the brightly dressed horse upon which you were sitting were open targets. One arrow where it doesn't belong, and the house of Adlershorst is headed straight to extinction in the male line, and father is already getting up there in age, so the chances of a little brother being born in your absence are pretty slim.

But no arrows flew, and you managed to come before the gate, close enough to talk to the men in the gatehouse.

''Halt! Not another step! State your business. Or be gone.'' Someone shouted from the gatehouse.

''I am Albrecht von Adlershorst! Leader of this here host, currently besieging your city, tell your lord that I wish to parley with him immediately. We may be able to come to a peaceful resolution without further bloodshed.'' The men in the gatehouse talked to each other before someone seemed to walk out of the building.

''Give us a minute; we shall fetch the commander!'' One of the guardsmen shouted out.

A few minutes passed before the gates were opened; thereupon, a magnificent, nimble palfrey was ridden by a man dressed in fine silks and a waxed beard and moustache. Flanked on both sides by eastern riders, who served as his counterpart to the two knights you had brought along. He was typical of his people, with olive skin, dark eyes, and hair. With the scent of perfume reaching its way to you, this man, in due honesty, was either a massive fop or the civilian administrator, placed into a position he can't handle at all.

''I am open to your offer, young man. If the terms are reasonable enough, that is. I know of you; unlike that southern dog, you at least release the men when their ransom is paid. That makes you trustworthy. But what are your terms?'' He asked.

''The garrison shall have a free and safe passage away from here; the city shall remain intact. However, to guarantee good conduct and make certain they don't return as soon as they are with the other Mizarians, I require a hostage. You, to be precise.'' You bellowed out in your most dignified voice.

His dark eyes narrowed, and through his facial hair, you could see his mouth twitch.

>>6189399
Roll a 1d100 DC 65, (Base 50, -10 because of unwillingness to actually be taken hostage, +10 because of earlier shown willingness to take, and release prisoners of war, + 10 due to generous terms offered, and +5 due to the state of the walls.)

Rolled 71 (1d100)

ok

Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>6189400
Rolling under right?

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>6189400

>>6189405
Yes

His eyes hardened as he went into a mode of deep contemplation. He began stroking his beard with his hand.

''Hmmm, I do not like this deal. I prefer my personal freedom over that of the troops, but I assume you do not wish for us to trade places? No, I thought as much. Still, you are in a better position than I am; the army the Bey mustered took away a good chunk of the garrison. And your war engines seem to be destroying the walls at a pace that I hadn't anticipated, but you are willing to let the garrison leave with colours and weapons intact. I suppose we can come to some sort of agreement, as long as my men are able to leave unharmed and with dignity." The commander nodded.

''But I have one condition.'' The commander said, ''My children, wives, and servants will be allowed to leave with the garrison and their personal belongings. And we shall be given two hours to gather.''

You hesitated for a moment; was it a trick? Would he honour his word? Did you make a mistake in coming here? He did agree, but waiting two hours for them to vacate the city seems like a small price to pay for gaining the city. Something was not right; he wanted to buy time for something. But you didn't know what. And in the end, your eagerness to take the city overtook your suspicions.

''Deal,'' you said, and you extended your hand. He took it and shook it.

Over the next two hours, there was a lot of commotion in the city as the garrison made ready to evacuate and vacate themselves from the city. You had the army assembled in formation; commanding officers in the front greeted them as they went on, and the commander of the garrison sat on his horse beside you. As his personal guards escorted the carriage carrying his children, wives, and servants, he waved them off with a sly smile underneath his beard. You didn't know what it was, but you had the feeling he had secretly scored a victory as well. They left in quiet dignity to the eastern ports to see the family of the man off.

You entered the city later that day; through the main gates, you had thought about making it a complete parade with tooters and bells, but you decided against that as the city dwellers wouldn't be positively inclined towards you, not after you bombarded their houses for the last few weeks.

You came to the main square, where the inhabitants had been busy throwing a fire altar, the object of worship for the infidel, out of their church, as the bishop watched on, ready to reassert his control over the old basilica.

The old garrison commander was kept under house arrest in his old town house. You took up residence in one of the city palaces. Where you tasted oriental treats like dates, baklava, and marzipan for the very first time. The furniture got some getting used to, though. The army would be partially billeted in the now-empty barracks. And the siege engines were dismantled and used in the reconstruction.

>>6189624

It was only evening now, but by tomorrow news of your taking of the city shall have reached both the Bey and Raymond. By the end of the month, it will have reached the ears of the court and the imperial government. Though you were half of a mind to break the news even earlier, there was no Mithradian governor, like the Eparch in Trorlinos here, only a bishop. And though some of the garrison, the Mithradian guardsmen who decided to stay behind, it wasn't enough. For now, you would have to garrison the city yourself. Limiting the mobility of your army for now, but you had no other choice, lest the Mizarians or Raymond snatch it while you were about.

>Send a missive to Elisnikon, requesting the formal reestablishment of the Thema Iasida, with a Strategos at the head of a small army. It may take a while, but it will be worth it.
>I shall take over governance of the city myself for now, while the Mithradians search for a replacement; this shall give me freedom to act.
>Appoint one of the locals as the mayor; they might not have such a position, but organising them in such a manner will prove beneficial in the short term.

>>6189629
>>Send a missive to Elisnikon, requesting the formal reestablishment of the Thema Iasida, with a Strategos at the head of a small army. It may take a while, but it will be worth it.

In the meantime we could work with the Bishop and whatever nobility or administrators remain in the region.

>>6189629
>I shall take over governance of the city myself for now, while the Mithradians search for a replacement; this shall give me freedom to act.

There is one lord here, bow before us and get fucked

>>6189629
>I shall take over governance of the city myself for now, while the Mithradians search for a replacement; this shall give me freedom to act.

>>6189629
>Send a missive to Elisnikon, requesting the formal reestablishment of the Thema Iasida, with a Strategos at the head of a small army. It may take a while, but it will be worth it.

I guess, this commander is not in fact the commander, and the real one managed to escape disguised as a woman or something? Or they destroyed/took something important? Ah well, nevermind.

>>6190005
He has a lot of mulberry trees in the courtyard of his house for some reason....

>>6189629
>Send a missive to Elisnikon, requesting the formal reestablishment of the Thema Iasida, with a Strategos at the head of a small army. It may take a while, but it will be worth it.

>>6190006
Egads! The silkworms, nooooooo!

>>6189629
>>Send a missive to Elisnikon, requesting the formal reestablishment of the Thema Iasida, with a Strategos at the head of a small army. It may take a while, but it will be worth it.

You decided upon the formal and lawful manner; you dipped your quill in the ink. And wrote a missive to the Mithradain government, informing them of your taking of the city and assuring them of your intentions to hand it over to the lawful governor as soon as he is appointed. To that end, you requested the formal appointment of a Strategos at the head of a new detachment of the imperial army. That way, you can freely move about in the land once more. Without being stretched into immobility by your new commitments here.

You invited the bishop for dinner later that night and were in turn invited to the reconsecration of the basilica. There were a slew of the local, minor nobility to come along to pay their respects and to petition you for a good word with the incoming Strategos for an appointment to office.

In the meantime, you had the camp partially broken up. You had no need for it now, and the materials could be better used elsewhere. The cavalry would patrol the surrounding countryside to ensure a safe surrounding for the farmers, travellers, and merchants. Ever since your army had left Trorlinos for good, it has been followed, at a respectable distance, by a gaggle of merchants, baublers, and other peddlers of goods. Usually, they would sell trinkets like amulets, liquor outside of the rations, and other things you didn't provide the soldiers as part of the standard rations. These merchants now came in handy, as they had agreed to reopen the old internal trade routes to the Mithradian interior. This would, in the longer term, further the reintegration of the province into the empire it had once belonged to.

The days dragged on, and as the spring slowly came into its full bloom, you settled into the role of an interim administrator. You arbitrated disputes between the local populace and made certain the various fees and taxes began to be collected, slowly at first, to make it easier for them to swallow. And rebuilding and renovating the infrastructure of the Thema, making certain that the walls would be rebuilt and modernised, the bridge had been given two importu towerhouses on either side. And the roads, where possible, were repaved and weeded for better transportation. It was quite the hot spring for someone like you, not used to the warm Mediterranean climate of this land, dry too, compared to the eternally damp forest of Greifswald. But it was something you could live with, considering the near lack of fog that this land boasted, which made this place all the more comfortable.

>>6190714


It was one of those pleasant spring days that you had been out riding in the countryside when you came back to your study; the mail had been delivered. Two of them were in Mithradian writing, and one was in Aurunician, bearing the seal of Raymond, of all people, but then again, your personal opposition to him wasn't public knowledge just yet. And you hadn't spurned him just yet, so either he was hoping to coax you to his side or make an offer.

My friend,

I, Raymond I, King of Amaliona, Duc de Montpèlerins, Peer of Aurilie, etc. Do hereby congratulate you on capturing the Iasida; that city had been the prize here in the east. And with its capture, it is but a matter of time before the infidel is driven off the island once and for all. However, it has come to my attention that you may intend to hand this city over to the Mithradians. I urge you to reconsider this decision, as it would be a grave mistake to give such a strategic stronghold to them, they who have barely done anything to regain the territory they so incompetently lost. We crusaders should not fight for them or their decadent empire. But for our own glory, the time of the Mithradian Empire is nearly at an end; what these lands truly need is new order that shall-.

The letter went on like this for a while, talking about how both the Mithradians and the infidels deserved to be put under the boot and how we should be here fighting to create a new bulwark in the east, not propping up some decaying empire on the brink of collapse. It contained some high-handed offers of collaboration and alliances, as well as offers of bribes of various sizes. You threw the letter in the fire, not thinking about it for much longer. You opened the Mithradian letter bearing the seal of the imperial government.

To the honoured foreigner, who remains faithful even when so many of his kind have turned their backs on us. We are pleased to hear of your achievements in regards to the capture of Iasida. With the recovery of this city, we have one less problem to deal with for now. In recognition of your accomplishments and your fidelity to the empire, we would like to extend to you, in the name of the emperor, the honorific of Patrikios (patrician). Furthermore, in regards to your request, a suitable candidate has been found to fill the position of Strategos for the theme. We are sending Lord Laurentios Pedaximos at the head of a Tagmata to fill that position.

As soon as the new Strategos is installed, we would like to invite you and your army to the capital to formally receive the honour from the Emperor and the Senate. We do hope you would be so kind as to come hither.

I remain the empire's obedient servant.

Andreas Kouloukes, Parakoimomenos of the Empire of Mithras.

>>6190715
A formal invitation to the capital, though for some reason they require the presence of your army as well. Was the Doge up to something? Was somebody else besieging Elisonikon? The letter did not say. Still, this letter gave you suspicion, if anything else. There was something off, but you did not know what. And so you turned to open the final letter.

My student,

I write to you now from the cabin of a ferry, carrying me away from the capital, towards you. Things in the capital have forced me to seek out refuge elsewhere, together with some others. There have been sporadic riots in the capital since the emperor failed to show up at the hippodrome. It simply isn't safe for someone like me.

If in any case you have received an invitation to attend something in the capital, I would strongly recommend you spurn such an invitation. The eunuchs have effective control over the government right now, and they distrust the palace guards. I believe they are seeking alternatives to using regular troops to suppress the riots. For now, they have shifted the blame to other groups, like the scholars and the Castanans. I am of the belief that things will get worse and worse if the emperor is actually confirmed to be dead. I am coming your way; do not, under any circumstance, travel or march back to Elisonikon.

I remain,
Eleftherios.

So that is why you were asked to bring along the army to Elisonikon. To act as a substitute for the regular army, and you were far more willing to believe Eleftherios than some random court official. Still…

>Await the arrival of the Strategos after conferring with him. I shall plan the next steps.
>Is Eleftherios on the road? Then I must go and look for him. His advice can be valuable in the times to come.
>That strategist is a pet of the eunuchs most likely. Oh, I shall march and march to rid the government of these parasites.

>>6190716
>Is Eleftherios on the road? Then I must go and look for him. His advice can be valuable in the times to come

>>6190716
>Is Eleftherios on the road? Then I must go and look for him. His advice can be valuable in the times to come.
Fucking Eunuchs. The bane of any large empire. At least noble families have children and partners to think of. Eunuchs haven nothing to lose.

>>6190716
>Is Eleftherios on the road? Then I must go and look for him. His advice can be valuable in the times to come.

>>6190716
>>Is Eleftherios on the road? Then I must go and look for him. His advice can be valuable in the times to come.

Perhaps we should make a return to the capital, but we should gather as much information as we can and be prepared for treachery.

I doubt it would make much difference, but perhaps we should attempt to contact the crusaders in the north? If the status of their leadership is in as a bad a state as we were led to believe, we might could take command of them.

File: Eleftherios.png (90 KB, 660x712)

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Eleftherios, you had grown quite fond of your old teacher in Mithradian; he had given you much insight into the more sophisticated aspects of Mithradian culture, like classical philosophy and literature. He possesses a formidable mind for someone of his age and was rather spry too. In many ways, he is like the grandpa you never had. Both of your natural grandfathers had met their ends before you could meet them. Mother's father died in a freak riding accident, and your father's father had drowned while crossing the swamps on a ferry on a stormy night. You had grown fond of the old man, and you wouldn't let anyone hurt him without just cause. No, this required action; he helped you once, so you should help him.

You saddled up early, rode hard and fast towards where he might be tracing along the roads he might use to get to you. In the capital, people might have recognised him, but out here in the countryside, he is but one travelling old man amongst many; if he's clever enough, which he is, he should keep himself out of trouble just fine.

You rode on further, tracing back your steps, passing through the old battlefield where you had fought and where the crows were pecking the corpses of the dead without a care. Wittekind hated the smell and became most unruly whenever you passed by the old battlefields. You went back up the road to Trorlinos, and you had begun to fear that he would be too close to the coast; he should move into the interior, where the government had less reach for now.

It was early in the evening when you passed by an old farmstead, being occupied by a travelling band of what seemed to be merchants, judging by their carriages and packing animals. A small, tawny old man was standing in the middle of the road. Which forced you to slow down as you approached, which meant that you eventually came to a halt, and you recognised him immediately. The nose alone gave him away.

''I am glad to see that you are well, my teacher. I was quite worried about your message.'' You told him.

''And I am pleased to see you as well, dear boy.'' Ah, an upgrade from being called a student.

''I am pleased to tell you that the poem that you sent me has borne its fruits, an entire hidden palace from the Isidorian period, completely intact. It is perhaps the most luxurious establishment I have ever visited.'' You told him with genuine enthusiasm.

>>6191026
''I am happy to hear it. I found that particular poem in a most obscure section of the imperial libraries. I would have gone myself, but I no longer travel except when I have to.'' He said wearily.

''Were the eunuchs after you?'' You asked with more anger than intended.

''Not yet, but they started to disappear some of my colleagues over the last few months, which they then blame on the rioters. I decided I wasn't going to wait for my arrest warrant to be signed. So I escaped through the sewers, together with some other people I know. Come along. Let me introduce you to some of them.'' He took you into the old farmhouse.

Inside the house, about six men were about talking or otherwise distracted with some game or the other.

''These are all of them?'' You asked.

''No, one of them already went to bed upstairs. And their servants sleep outside. Not the ones of that important personage, whose servants sleep in the same chamber. But not to worry; I am certain you'll get along when you meet.'' He said in an assuring tone.

Elftherios took you along to make the rounds; two of the six men were courtiers who had run afoul of the eunuchs by discovering their embezzlement while working for the treasury. One was a captain of the palace guard, forced into an early retirement. The other three were all a variety of important bureaucrats, too supportive of Anastasios' regime to be trusted now, one from the navy, a tax collector, and the personal secretary of the emperor. They didn't have a lot in common; some of them were quite friendly, others were somewhat high-handed when it came to talking with you, though most toned it down after you continued to converse with them. But they did have one thing in common: all of them had been eager supporters of Anastasios and his reforms, but now such eager support had been turned into an excuse to purge such men from the ranks. They all had stolen a badge of office that came along with the position in an act of defiance. Part of you blamed them for not fighting to keep their posts, but then again. These men work from behind a desk, and with a quill, not on a horse with a sword. It was decided that you would give them refuge if it came to that; either you would keep them safe in the hidden palace if necessary or close enough with you.

File: Princess Anastasia.png (409 KB, 1109x1133)

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>>6191029
The next morning, you arose from a relatively uncomfortable bed; whoever had gone to bed early must have claimed the best beds available, as the servants and personnel that the men had taken with them had been sleeping in the barn and stables. You rose early; perhaps it was the uncomfortableness of the bed, perhaps it was the fact you had forgotten to shut the blinds. To your surprise, the snoring from the rest of the highest-class sleepover in history was continuing undisturbed. The door to the room that had been shut the previous evening was now wide open. You didn't pay much attention to it; why should you? You continued downstairs, walking down the stairs to the room you had conversed in.

You had smelt it before, but now you were certain that someone was making breakfast. And much to your surprise, there weren't one but three persons in the room. And all three of them were women.

Two of them were servant girls, cooking and serving the third woman, who sat behind the table and awaited the results of the cooking.

The two servant girls only gave you a cursory glance before returning to their duties, but the third one kept on looking at you. She had a calculating look in her dark eyes, and her dark hair complemented her pale skin quite well. She was young, about your age, and the two of you seemed to be locked in a staring contest.

Whatever shall you do now?
>Break the ice and introduce yourself.
>Wait for her to say something, anything at all.
>Continue on, not say a word, and take a seat at the table.

>>6191031
>Wait for her to say something, anything at all.

Stare...

Mmm, what's appropriate here?

>>6191031
>>Break the ice and introduce yourself.

>>6191031
>Continue on, not say a word, and take a seat at the table.
>Break the ice and introduce yourself.
Be at ease.

>>6191031
>Break the ice and introduce yourself.

>>6191031
>Continue on, not say a word, and take a seat at the table.

>>6191031

>Break the ice and introduce yourself.

Finally caught back up, was there at the start and now I am back. Glad that you continued this QM.

File: Staring contest.png (384 KB, 1224x1184)

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You then realised you were still standing on the staircase, and you sure as hell weren't about to lose a staring contest, princess or not. Though you did not know if she was. Nevertheless, standing still here wouldn't help anyone.

You are well-bred enough to hide the more primal emotions; indeed, if you kept focus, you could project a Stoic image that made you look like a marble statue. You're no blushing schoolboy, or some ogling peasant boy with his jaw so far down. No, you can keep your emotions and perhaps any potential feelings for her in the back of your mind for now; it is wise for you to test the waters first.

You did take your time to get over to her. Mostly because you didn't want to shout from the other side of the room to speak with her. You thus approached her with a calm and gentlemanly demeanour. Someone would have to break the ice sooner or later, and it might as well be you.

As you did get closer, you got to see her closer; she had nice, naturally red lips and a pointy but small nose, and you found that she was quite buxom, though for the rest she was quite elegant and slim of figure.

Still keeping eye contact, you initiated the conversation.

''I do not believe we have met before, my lady. May I introduce myself?'' You said as you extended your hand.

''Indeed, we have not. Though I have seen you before, in the imperial palace of Elisonikon. If I am correct, were you not the tall, pale one with hair of gold and straw? We did not speak, and I remained out of sight, so no, we haven't met before.'' She extended her hand; one of the fingers was adorned with a ring with a large ruby stone. She has a refined voice, though it had an air of confidence you normally didn't hear from a young noblewoman. And she carried it well, so you thought as you bowed over to kiss the ring. It reminded you vaguely of your mother, though even she never went to the level of natural confidence that the young woman before you displayed.

Then she spoke: ''You have the honour of standing before Princess Anastasia. Third born daughter of Emperor Anastasios.'' She put on an air of authority, though it did not make much of an impression on someone like you. You, who have already rubbed shoulders with some of the continent's most powerful men.

''I am Albrecht von Aldershorst, heir to the Duchy of Greifswald. Though you might not have heard much of my homeland, you surely have heard of my recent successes on the battlefield.'' You said it with some extra confidence.

''I have, yes. It is unfortunate that our army has been reduced to a state of impotence, and even more unfortunate that most of your compatriots lack your fidelity to the original purpose of your presence.'' She said.

>>6191508
''Might I be seated?'' You asked.

''You may.'' Came the reply.

And so you sat down, opposite her, and the two of you continued the undeclared staring contest. In many ways, she was your physical opposite; she was a woman, obviously, but you had bright blonde hair and blue eyes. She had black hair and dark brownish eyes. And the two of you continued to stare at each other. It wasn't the romantic type of staring you had seen the maidens at court do when some clotheshorse or the other had learnt to play an instrument. She was testing the waters as much as you were. And so while her maids began bringing her her breakfast, you changed tactics.

''May I have something to eat as well, your highness?'' You asked with some fake annoyance.

This did catch her off guard, as she was forced to annoyingly shift her attention to the chambermaids, who she told to serve you breakfast with a nod. When she turned back to you, you simply smiled and said, ''You lost.''

This caused her to stifle a laugh, though she did not fire back, at least not yet.

>So pray tell, princess. Of all the places to flee to, why here?
>It might not be appropriate of me to ask, but how is your father?
>It must be strange, for one of your status, to be travelling like futigives.
>Write-in

Disclaimer: From here on out, I cannot guarantee that you are safe from dialogue that may or may not come off as tacky and/or cringe

>>6191511
>It must be strange, for one of your status, to be travelling like futigives.

Veering off into personal and uncomfortable waters.

>>6191511
>It must be strange, for one of your status, to be travelling like futigives

>Spoiler
It's been charming so far. Keep it up as is and your worries will be unfounded.

>>6191511
>It might not be appropriate of me to ask, but how is your father?
We need to find out if the eunuchs got him or not.

>>6191511
>>It must be strange, for one of your status, to be travelling like futigives.

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''It must be strange, for one of your status, to be travelling like fugitives.'' You said in a casual tone, after all. Someone like her was used to the pampered in the palaces and estates. She probably never had to walk more than a kilometre before. And from the carriages you saw assembled in the yard, she was most likely travelling in absolute comfort as well.

''The first few days were the worst; we spent two days in the palace sewers. I had never thought that they went so deep. Then one of us managed to buy passage to the east. We stopped near a loyal noble's estate, and we borrowed some of the carriages from him. We had to split up multiple times to avoid being caught by the patrols. I had hidden between the planks of my carriage whenever they came to search the caravan. Though, the patrols stopped after we crossed the mountains. It is strange, you know; I have never left Elisonikon or the island it is on before. All in all, the food is worse, the rides are rough, and though out here I can go and come as I please, I do miss the comfort of home, as stifling as court life is.'' She said with derision.

''Stifling?'' you asked.

''Have you no courts, in whatever land you come from? It is a never-ending circus of ceremony and strict etiquette. If you are not participating in any of the ceremonies, you are expected to stand and keep quiet. I hated it; it was the most dour and dull thing you can ever do," she said.

''Oh, we have something like that, but in Greifswald, it is the lord who dictates the pace and schedule; my father sometimes hears petitions, and at other times he is behind his desk or on a hunting expedition. But he is never subject to the strict etiquette I have seen in here, short as it was. I got the feeling that the court at Elisonikon is perhaps needlessly ceremonial.'' In Greifswald, the very idea of a court eunuch would have been laughed out of the room.

>>6191924

''What's it like?'' She suddenly asked.

''What's like, what?'' You asked.

''Your homeland, what's it like?'' She asked again.

You thus went on an oration of your homeland, of its verdant fields and forests, of Tauten lords in brick castles, of great merchant ships that went on and off. She seemed interested, though you had to dispel the idea that you lived in a fairy forest. And though that might at least be partially true, you made certain to understand that it was a land of men, first and foremost. You described the isolated forest villages, where the local natives of old still lived in quiet, and the glades that could be so beautiful in the spring.

She, in turn, admitted that it sounded like a nice place to be. Though it sounded more like an admittance to jealousy than anything else. She seemed curious, curious about the outside world and curious about you. Still, you did not broach the subject and ate up breakfast.

As the others came down, she went up again, taking her maids with her, and you were left with the fugitive members of the Mithradian government. Still, this does present an opportunity; these high-profile bureaucrats know the inner workings of the government far better than you ever could. With them, you can begin to plan not only a campaign or a plan of action but, if you're able enough, a countercoup. But first things first, you should decide where to keep these men, women, and their respective entourages.

>Send them to the hidden palace; there they will be safe, and you will pick them up on the way to Elisonikon.
>Take them with you, back to Iasida; from there, you will plot their return to the office.

>>6191925
>Take them with you, back to Iasida; from there, you will plot their return to the office.

>>6191925
>Take them with you, back to Iasida; from there, you will plot their return to the office.

>>6191925
>>Take them with you, back to Iasida; from there, you will plot their return to the office.

We will need their expertise, I should think.

>>6191925
>Take them with you, back to Iasida; from there, you will plot their return to the office.
Eunuch delenda est.

>>6191925

>Take them with you, back to Iasida; from there, you will plot their return to the office.

You decided that it would be better for all parties involved that they move back with you to Iasida. The new strategos would be dealt with when he arrived.

You decided to ask around with the Mithradian men for some background information about this man, what kind of man he was, where his loyalties lay, and if he would be an obstacle in any future plots.

''I would like to know, from any of you gentlemen, something related to our current predicament. Have any of you ever heard of a fellow by the name of Laurentios Pedaximos?'' You asked

''I have, his father, Ioannes, was head of the imperial stables about forty years ago.'' The old guard captain said. ''Laurentios comes from the western part of the empire, where his family has a great stud farm. He is capable and honest, but unimaginative and unambitious. He is also a bit gullible; if it came to it, his loyalties would lie with the emperor, but the eunuchs know he can be kept in the dark quite easily. He'll probably have orders, forged to look like the emperor's, to make certain you do actually leave for Elisonikon.'' He explained further.

''Very well, then. If he really can be kept in the dark so easily, we can deceive him as well. Now then, as soon as you have finished your breakfast, I would like for you to tell your subordinates to begin packing. I intend to be back in Iasida to receive our new strategos personally.'' You told the assembled men.

It took a while for them to be assembled; their assembled column had more the characteristics of a very well-guarded merchant caravan than a small army, but you had ordered the cavalry to act as scouts and outsiders to deter anything or anyone from coming too close. All in all, there were about four carriages: one for the princess and her handmaidens, one for the senior officials, one for the others, which is where Eleftherios was placed, and a supply cart. The princess' carriage reeked of perfume, and heaven knew what type of cosmetics they kept in there. When the caravan started rolling, you kept a respectable distance from them.

>>6192209

It was uneventful, but not entirely boring. The winds had gotten warmer, a traditional sign in Tauten culture that there would be a good harvest and a long summer this year. And indeed, part of you wanted to break off, ride a full trot over the golden field and verdant meadows, riding under a golden sun towards an eternal summer.

At one point you reached a bendy point, so you slowed down, which allowed the princess' carriage to catch up with you. To the point, one of the windows slit open, and you were assaulted with the stench of the perfume.

''I have to ask. Your Highness, how is it possible that you haven't been suffocated by that horrid stench?'' You asked her.

''Horrid? Quite the contrary; it is a concoction of rosewater, frankincense, and mint. Quite a lot of effort went into making it. And it was either this one or the one with mint, lemon, and thyme. So you should consider yourself lucky.'' She said in a mockingly haughty tone.

''I prefer the fresh air.'' You said it nonchalantly, which made her smirk for a split second.

''But at any rate, that is not what I wanted to ask you, but you do have a rather large horse, I have noticed. A stallion, isn't it? I have never seen one of this size before.'' She seemed to be quite fascinated by the 600 kilograms weighing beast you rode.

''Wittekind here is the result of a lot of careful and selective breeding,'' you proudly said while patting the great destrier on the neck. ''Horse breeding is a matter of prestige among all the knights and lords of the realm, especially in the west. It is one of the things I imagine we do better than you.'' You told her.

''How so?'' she asked.

''From what I have seen here, Mithras has perhaps the most advanced state on the continued. Where I am from, we are still reliant on the feudal networks; we have to work with them, and our armies aren't standing, nor do we have a central structure for taxation and administration. What we do have is a judicial system, but I imagine that is but a pale imitation of the old empires.'' You explained.

''It does have its advantages, but you are still an outsider, my lord. And things always look better from the other side of the sea; we have our own problems, part of which is to blame for the situation in which I now find myself.'' She said.

A silence then followed, not awkward, not pleasant, but the two of you were looking for a new topic to talk over. And you decided to shoot first.

''So I have been wondering, can you ride yourself? Because it might be handy in case we need to get away quickly.'' You asked the princess.

''I, um, no… I cannot ride a horse.'' She admitted, ''I was never expected to need such a skill and thus I wasn't taught it.''

>Oh well, that's a pity; if there is nothing else, I bid you a good day.
>I could teach you, if you wanted too.

>>6192215
>I could teach you, if you wanted too.
Romantic bonding moment? yup.

>>6192215
>I could teach you.
"Could" already implies "if you wanted to"

>>6192215
>I could teach you, if you wanted too.

>>6192215
>>I could teach you, if you wanted too.

Mizarians to our east across the water, and whatever minor holdouts remaining.

Alotorans plotting from the waves.

Raymond to our south.

Eunuchs to the west in the capital.

We're hemmed up pretty good, aren't we? At least we hold sway over a decent amount of land from Iasidia to Trorinolis. Hopefully we might have some luck with the northern crusaders, perhaps even raise some additional men from the locals.

File: The ride.png (208 KB, 1410x1060)

208 KB PNG

''I could teach you, if you wanted to.'' There was no harm in it, or at least so you thought.

''You could?'' She asked.

''Of course I can; I have been riding horses since my early childhood. Though I have never taught anyone to before, but we'll work it out.'' You replied confidently.

''We'll start when we have reached a good spot for the horses to run. Put on a simple dress. And, uhh, leave your jewellery in the carriage; that includes your earrings and rings. We do not want anything to get stuck or lost while riding.'' You told her

By the evening you had reached the open plains of the east, and the next morning you would begin. Early in the morning, that is, as she insisted. She seemed to be an early riser, which you didn't mind. Still, it appeared that you hadn't thought out the session as much as you should.

''And, where should we begin?'' She asked, as you had two horses by the lead. You had searched the entire camp, but you couldn't find a sidesaddle, which… complicated matters where it came to her womanly status.

''Well, it appears I can't teach you to ride aside; speaking of which, I don't even know how to ride aside, only astride. Now, this may sound like an odd question, but are you in possession of some trousers?'' You asked, somewhat embarrassed.

The sardonic battering of the eyelashes and an unimpressed stare gave you all the information you needed.

''No, then, welp. I suppose there is only one other option.'' You said as you put a foot in the stirrup to ride over to her.

>>6192822
She seemed a bit sceptical, and she asked, ''And what are you planning?'' As she began to look up further and further when you came closer.

''It's something I just remembered. I used to ride with my sister, and before she was capable of riding herself, she used to ride with me on the same horse. I think it might work for us too.'' You explained, hoping she would agree to give it a try.

For a moment, it looked like she might refuse outright or would try to weasel herself out of it. But she acquiesced, and you pulled her up onto the horse.

''Your hands are harder than I expected,'' she said as she wrapped her own hand around your waist for support. What this had to do with riding you didn't know, the life of a knight and noble required you to be physically active, and handling swords, spears, lances, and horses were all part of that lifestyle; that your hands would be calloused was natural.

It would take a while for Wittekind to rebalance himself with the extra weight; you had been afraid he would not take her or make an attempt at biting her. Wittekind was an infamously bad-tempered stallion, feared by the stable hands in the Albrechtsburg. Only you could ever ride him; that he tolerated her was one thing; that he allowed her to weigh down on his back was an act of tolerance he had only ever granted to members of your family, though when Father tried to ride him, he was thrown off in the courtyard.

How would you like to ride?
>Take it easy and gentle; nothing too quick.
>Start slowly, but start picking up the speed as you go along.
>Give a good kicking of the spurs, and go as fast as possible.

>>6192823
>>Start slowly, but start picking up the speed as you go along.

>>6192823
>Start slowly, but start picking up the speed as you go along.

>>6192823
>Start slowly, but start picking up the speed as you go along.

>>6192823
>Start slowly, but start picking up the speed as you go along.