File: Camp-Between-the-Hills.png (395 KB, 5188x2760)

395 KB PNG

Your name, of course, is Alessandro Galliota, the Viscount of Portblanc, that home of yours which now lays so distant. It had been almost four months now since you had been summoned from the wealthy tradehalls of your fief to wage a war under the command of your lord, Don Carles IV Brascarams, the Lord of Segoma and a Crown Prince of the Mirevalian Empire. Following his plans, you and your regiment disembarked in an foreign land, utterly alone, to fight your way through the countryside of Tilano (the region of Nera where you currently are) as they lay siege to Montechia, the largest city of the region and bastion fortress that holds the key to controlling it.

For two months, you waged your own campaign, advancing through the winding hills and rainy forests of the Tilanese Coast. You have defeated armies, taken cities and fought giants; and now, after all these efforts, you have finally reached the outskirts of Montechia, rejoining the forces of Prince Carles and entering what you hope to be the final path to victory in this war.

As you make your way down the hill, you stare out at the great valley that lies beneath you; in the bottom, a vast camp, fluttering tents of white fabric sprawling out across the plain. The smoke of countless campfires waft into the air, creating a column easily seen for miles; in the distance, over beyond the hill, another such similar sight remains. And the hills themselves, of course; or rather, the great hill that stands at the end of this valley, whereupon a great fortification sits, triangular bastions and towers sitting proudly besides the curtain walls. The intermittent sound of roaring cannons breaks the monotony of your ride towards the camp.

When you finally do reach that sea of white, it is a sight curious like none other. From behind wooden palisades, armed men watch as you pass the gatehouse through the makeshift road clearly dug in a hurry. From atop your horse, you travel amidst the length of the camp, resting soldiers going about their duties and rests around you; sutlers and merchants practice their trade, oxen and horse feed on their hastily built barnsheds. In the wind, the flags of Segoma's nobilities flutter in the wind. Yet oddly enough, no tent seems to stand out to you, none that hold the opulence you would expect one such as Don Carles, or even the other heads of the army, to use. Nevertheless, you are led into a particular tent by your guides, and after showing a seal confirming your identity, you were allowed inside.

"Don Alessandro. I see you have finally arrived. Greetings be to you."

Greeting you is a man who you can only describe as in the shape of a rat, thinner than a beggar and yet dressed in the field livery of a man of the robe. You know who he is: Octavi Colenáz, the Marquess of Castalla - standing right at the foot of the Ascarpian Mountains, the craftsmen of his fief were most likely responsible for the forging of a good deal of the weapons and powder your regiment first acquired. You also know him to be a man you would not trust if your life depended on it.

"Don Octavi. Greetings be to you as well - after waging my lone campaign throughout this region, I have finally arrived to join the siege. Where is His Highness? I must report to him of all that has occurred." you reply.

"Don Carles will be joining us shortly. His highness had been on the secondary camp, over beyond the hill, dealing with some matters with Don Salazar and Don Fadrique."

"I see..."

If that is the case, then you've no choice but to wait. In the meanwhile, however, perhaps you could talk with Don Octavi. Shifty as the man may be, he is a fellow nobleman still, and a military commander of this expedition in equal position to you.

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION (NO LIMIT, ASK AS MANY AS YOU WANT)
>Ask him about how the siege goes
>Ask him of what he has done in this siege himself
>Ask him about any news from the homeland
>Ask him something else (Specify what)
>Actually, I'd rather just wait

Thread I - https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6153604/

Thread I (Conclusion) - https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6189036/

Thread II - https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6231466/

Field Handbook - https://rentry.org/TercioQuest (Updated!)


Welcome to the second (third?) thread of Fog of War, I hope you enjoy it.

>>6275848
>Ask him of what he has done in this siege himself

Seems to be the safest question for a man we cant trust.

Good to see you back with more Fog of War Tercio!

>>6275848
>Ask him about how the siege goes
>>6275850
I think you might be already considering this, but a section describing the states/polities of the setting would be helpful in the future

Maps in the opening vote post, we are truly blessed!

>>6275848
>Ask him about how the siege goes
+
>Ask him of what he has done in this siege himself

Seems most natural to ask how the siege is going generally, and if Don Octavi has managed to gain any glory, in the same question.

But if it isn't too greedy then we might be able to finish with a comment that we haven't received any news from the homeland during our march, has there been anything of import (but only if QM wants to hint at anything from back home, obviously we can just write letters to find out about our specific home city and family)

>>6275848
Nice to be back.
>Actually, I'd rather just wait
Better to just ask the prince.

>>6275859
Didn't we already get that in some updates before? From that "Mundi" book. I guess putting it all in one place *would* be nice.

>>6275848
>Ask him about how the siege goes
+
>Ask him of what he has done in this siege himself

>>6275848

Aw yeah we back

>Ask him about how the siege goes

>Ask him of what he has done in this siege himself

I'd like both.

>>6275848
>Ask him about how the siege goes
Just this one

>>6275848
>Ask him about how the siege goes
Be polite. Best not give a man reason to squirm, especially if they're untrustworthy.

>>6275863
Yeah, I think QM could just update the handbook with the maps/info we uncover during the quest

>>6275848
>Ask him about how the siege goes
>Ask him about any news from the homeland
>Ask about the supply situation
>Ask whether they've encountered giants

>>6275853
Ask him about what he's done

>>6275859
>>6275953
>>6275964
Ask him about how the siege goes

>>6275861
>>6275927
>>6275937
Asking him about the siege and what he's done

Asking him about the siege and what he's done wins


Furthermore, I would also like to say, since a few anons were asking for a 'reference' about the nations of this world, I have created an addendum to the Handbook that shows you all that you have learned. Further choosing actions to read the book will unlock new entries.

https://rentry.org/MauvaMundi

>>6276242
I also forgot to add, since it took some time to set this up and I was a bit busy today, updates will be delayed for a few hours - so basically, tomorrow morning.

Worry not, however, as I will not be going back to my once-every-two-days schedule for the time being.

Missed the vote but welcome back OP. Thanks for the handbook update.

File: Imperial Plate.jpg (48 KB, 365x558)

48 KB JPG

"How goes the siege, then?" you ask, hoping to gleam some information from the man.

"About as well as can be expected", he begins.

"Montechia, this city, is nothing short of a boulder in our path. I am certain that Segoma in its entirety is not as well fortified as this. It is as though we have taken to warring Camponia."

Camponia, you quickly remember, is one of the princely states, the largest amongst them, and the one that stands to your east. It is currently ruled by one of the other Imperial Crown Princes, one Don Fernando if you are correct. Not only are they the largest and most populous of the Appanages of Mirevale, their hold over the northernmost pass of the Ascarpians, the great mountain range that splits the continent of Mauva itself in two, has ensured that the crown has spent no small deal in their fortifications - several Imperial Armies of the Crown are stationed there. It is no wonder that such a fief is almost always given to the 'favored child' of the ruling Emperor.

"So nothing has been done?" you prod.

"There has been progress, of course! All thanks to the forces I had brought." he replies.

"Is that so?"

"Aside from you, Don Alessandro, I am the only one who had brought guns to batter down these walls. Though they have not done so entirely, we have already dealt some deal of damage to the curtain upon that hill. Of course, if I had been given more time by his highness, perhaps I might have been able to acquire more cannons from the Artillery Guilds."

Artillery Guilds, as capricious and powerful as they were wealthy. That an entire guild - the Mascaloman Guild - had agreed to limit their services entirely to the Mirevalian Empire was a feat few nations could replicate. You had heard, once, in a ball, of nations in the far west who had no need of such matters and knew the secrets of cannonforging themselves, but you've no idea of the truthfulness of such.

Before you are able to continue, however, you talk is interrupted by the opening of the tent flaps as a new man walks in - whose sight drives both you and Octavi to bow forward in respect. It is Don Carles, your prince and liege lord. Adorned in black and silver plate armor, a golden cloak around his back, he signals you both to rise.

"Don Alessandro. It is good to see you have arrived here safely...how hast thou fared in these paths months? Tell me of your march across Tilano."

And so, you do. You recount the story of your battle at Costat Hill, of the cities you had passed through both friendly and unfriendly, of the volunteers who had joined you and the giants you had fought. Hearing your story, the Prince continues to stare at you attentively.

File: Siege of Montechia.png (7.77 MB, 10000x7082)

7.77 MB PNG

"I see...it is good to know this." he says, after you finish your report. "You have arrived in timely manner, with more men than you had begun with, and most of all, you have ensured that there is little danger of a relief army from the west. I am pleased by your performance, Don Alessandro. You have done well."

"Thank you, your highness." you quickly reply. "Your words bring me honor."

"There is little time for pleasantries, however." he continues. "Allow me to tell you of the situation you have joined..."

"Montechia, as you will soon learn, is an impressive painting of modern defense. As we had first arrived, we were unable to land too closely to the city - the coasts around it are nothing but cliffs, impossible to climb. We were forced to land farther out to the northwest, which certainly gave them some time to prepare. The city itself is built in a coastal depression, a 'valley' of sorts, and they have used these features most splendidly."

"To their west, stands the hill you have already seen on your way down here. It is defended by a great wall, surrounded by moats and bastions. Though it does not possess any Ravelins or Glacis, its natural defenses more than make up for it. The only weakness it holds is the age of its walls. Their curtains are made in the old, obsolete style, which cannot much handle heavy cannonfire."

"To the south and east, on the other hand, are a far worse problem - fortresses, three of them, built in the style of the Trace Colibrenne. They have none but the most modern of defenses - earthworks, halfbastions, hornworks, ravelins...their curtains are sloped and short, making them highly durable to cannonfire. We have had no luck in breaching them with the guns that Don Octavi had brought."

"What of the coast?" you ask.

"Little better. Their coastal batteries would ensure any attempt at landing ended far before it even reached their beaches."

That is certainly not good to hear - it sounds as though this city is an impenetrable fortress!

"What has been done, then, your highness?"

"We have set up our forces across two camps, to ensure they were not able to concentrate their men entirely on a single side - and ever since then, we have begun sapping efforts. To our good fortune, several mercenary companies had agreed to join our efforts, rather than those of the Fortelli, after being offered a decent sum."

"That is good to hear, sire. Hopefully, the arrival of my forces shall aid this siege greatly."

"We shall see. Now, is there anything you've left to say or ask before we move onto deciding what shall be done with your forces?"

"Well..."

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION (NO LIMIT, ASK AS MANY AS YOU WANT)
>Ask him about the homeland
>Ask him about possible interference by the Sbravani
>Ask him about the war in the rest of Nera
>No, that is all.
>Write-in

>>6276545
>Ask about everything
>Also ask about the following:
How does the enemy get water to the moat on top of a hill? Can that machinery be a vulnerability?
How about think about employing a fake blockade runner ship or two full of our men? Our local recruits could easily pass for reinforcements
What is the supply situation? How long do we have before we'll be forced to break the siege?

>>6276565
+1

>>6276565
+1

>>6276565
+1

>>6276545
>Ask him about possible interference by the Sbravani

>>6276545
really cool map!
>>6276565
+1

>>6276545
>Ask him about the war in the rest of Nera
Plus what that other guy said

>>6276545
>>Ask him about the war in the rest of Nera

And anon >>6276565

By the way QM, what happened to the giant we captured last thread?

>>6276565
>>6276586
>>6276587
>>6276599
Asking about everything and then some wins, writing.

Oh fuck i forgot to post the update, lmao

File: Nera War.png (1.06 MB, 1345x1132)

1.06 MB PNG

"How goes the homeland? I've not had any time to write letters in my march" you ask.

"If you've a desire to write letters, send them to the fishing village we've been using as a port. I've not heard anything out of the ordinary from Segoma, if that is what you wonder."

"I see...then, I must ask, what has the rest of Nera done, so far? Have they not sent an relief army to Montechia, nor attempted to break the blockade with a fleet?"

"That is a good question, Don Alessandro, and one better answered by looking at the greater picture. We are but one of the foes that the Fortelli fight. To their north, the Republic of Avonna has taken advantage of this 'civil war' to strike at Edroa. In the south, the Neterelli, the oldest patrician family in Nera, are consolidating their power in the south. And finally, Santula has also taken to striking at the island of Guiverni, which they once owned. To put their efforts against one would mean ignoring the others - and more than that, it would mean leaving Montellegaria itself unprotected. That is why they've no choice but to confide in the strength of this fortress - and why once it breaks, their spirits shall be in tatters."

It is certainly impressive, how much Don Carles seems to know of such things - the scale at which his plays are made is far greater than yours.

"I see...but then, what of the Sbravani? They've a long border with Nera, and if I am correct, had already invaded Straccia once."

"They've far greater foes than a single of the trade republics. Had they tried to invade it, almost every country they border would have responded in kind. Other than those Halfbreeds in Johannes, they've nothing but enemies surrounding them."

"I understand. I've no more questions." you finish.

Your meeting, however, was yet to end, for there were the matters of what you would do. Don Carles was quick to tell you that your regiment, once it had arrived, would be staying with the western camp to be used alongside the armies of his highness and the Condottieri that he had hired.

"We shall assault the walls, then?" you ask.

"Not yet. The cannons have yet to make a considerable enough breach - and our sapping teams have not yet tunnelled far enough to do such, either. With their higher position, and the moats they have around the walls, assaulting them properly would be...very difficult."

"It is an impressive feat, I must add." adds Don Octavi. "From what the men in the naval blockade and the folk from the villages we've captured say, they had built a horsedriven wheel system to bring water to the hill."

"And speaking of the blockade..." you interject, "Have we any estimates of how much time it shall be until they are driven to starvation?"

"A year, at least." says Don Carles. "Though they were unable to gather much of the harvest - we had found the fields all but filled, after all - a city as wealthy as this one would not be without great storehouses. Had we informants in the city, perhaps we would be able to use the mortars to destroy their storage...if they have not already moved it somewhere safer, that is."

"Perhaps we could hide some of our men amidst a blockade runner."

"A tempting idea, but far too likely to fail. It is very much a raresight to see such daring attempts nowadays. The've no reason to expect one."

And as such, they would most certainly see it through. You do not need him to tell you such to know it. No, it seems as though you will be forced to sit through a long siege, unless you are able to make a decisive breach. With nothing else to do, Don Carles dismisses you, stating that he shall be returning to the secondary camp for the day.

"Ah, one more thing, your highness." you say as he is leaving, remembering one particular thing of note. "In my campaign, I had captured quite a few prisoners, and amidst them, a giant. It shall be necessary to hold them."

"Very well. I'll see to it that they are placed safely with the other prisoners. If any offers of ransom are sent, I will be sure to pass the money to you."

And so, you are now free. With your troops arriving to set up camp, it is unlikely there will be much action for the day in your side of the siege. You could aid them in the matter, of course, and perhaps ensure they do so efficiently, but you could always leave the matter to Provençal and Hugues, and do something else instead.

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION
>Oversee the campmaking efforts
>Explore the city outskirts personally
>Set up your own tent and get to reading your books
>Set up your own tent and get to writting a letter
>Write-in

>>6277205
>Set up your own tent and get to writting a letter
Tell mom and bro that we're alive, well and covered in glory

>>6277205
>Explore the city outskirts personally

>>6277205
>Set up your own tent and get to writting a letter

>>6277205
>>Set up your own tent and get to writting a letter
Got to keep the family abreast of the situation.

>>6277205
>Explore the city outskirts personally

>>6277205
>Explore the city outskirts personally
Nat 1 headshot lets go.

>>6277217
>>6277326
>>6277334
Write Letter

>>6277299
>>6277369
>>6277453
Explore the Outskirts

It seems we have a tie. I will wait a little more for a tiebreaker, and if there isn't any, I will flip a coin.

>>6277847
Almost forgot...also, my ID changed? Let's test something.

>>6277205

>Set up your own tent and get to writting a letter

Read the whole thing in a day and caught up, good stuff QM !

>>6277847
>>Set up your own tent and get to writting a letter
Also, spend time with Joan

>>6277847
>>Set up your own tent and get to writting a letter


First things first.

Writing a letter it is.

File: wala.jpg (632 KB, 1441x1000)

632 KB JPG

Though you first think about exploring the outskirts of this city, you decide it to be an ultimately poor idea - how laughable would it be if you were felled by a shot from an enterprising marksman, or fallen into some manner of hole or trap? You'd be better off getting to write to your family in Portblanc.

With your goal in mind, you go about setting up your tent inside the area where your own regiment's camp will be. It had been decided, you were told, that your regimental camp would be westwards of the current one, expanding upon it to ensure general safety - though part of you thought that it was so you would be the first ones hit if an relief army came barrelling from the westward hills.

With your lordly tent soon set, you began to write your letter, the sounds of carpenters and soldiers working on the background as you take your feathered quill to parchment.

To mine honoured brother,

I must entreat thy pardon for my long silence these past months. Though I did greatly desire to send thee some word, the nature of this campaign hath rendered such a thing most unfeasible. It hath now come to pass, however, that I am not likely to depart from my present station for many months hence, mayhap even years, though Splendour forbid it be so. If it be thy will, direct thy letters unto this place, and the bearer of this missive shall know well how to see them returned to me.

Much hath come to pass, I must say. I have felt myself the tremors of battle and seen with mine own eyes the great spillings of blood. It is not out of joy that I say this, but I myself have claimed the lifes of more than one foe. Say naught of this unto our mother, for the sake of her own health, but I have found that it to be entirely impossible, as a leader of men, to wholly shun myself of danger. But a week before I had written this, a band of Himmerians - yes, brother, giants - had seen it fit to attempt an ambush upon my person! Trouble not thyself either, brother, for by Splendour's grace, I reain unharmed, and the giants were slain.

This land is not as I had reckoned, dear brother. The heat is great, like the fiercest summers in Uharta, yet what surprised me most of all was the humidity - Though I had thought Portblanc, as a city by the sea, to be wet and oft rained upon, it is as naught but a desert compared to the unceasing showers of these hills i trod upon, and worst of all, it is not yet summer! I cannot fathom how those who dwell in the northern reaches of Straccia, where I am told it raineth more still—endure such a clime in any sensible fashion.

But I prattle too much of mine own affairs; tell me, what hath passed in Portblanc since my departure? How dost thou fare, Jonatan? I hope you are able to sate my thirst for news; Not since my days in Mascaloma have I been so long estranged from our home.

With mine enduring affection,
Don Alessandro Galliota, this 17th day of December, in the year of Our Splendour 1542

Your final words written, you slump in your chair, glad to be availed at last of such a duty. Though the writting of letters is as though the lifeblood of communication in far distances, to write such long swathes of text without too grave an error shall always be an tiresome task to you. You'll leave the parchment to dry for now - and tomorrow, you'll send it to the 'courier ships' that Don Carles had spoken of.

Yes, there will be much to do, tomorrow...

>NO VOTE FOR NOW
>NEXT UPDATE IN THE USUAL TIME

My apologies for taking so long and having no vote, I got a bit busy so I just threw out whatever I could do have an update today.

>>6277968
It happens, OP, trust me. Thanks for the update.

>>6277968
Yeah, it's fine. Thank you for running this fantastic quest

Testing
Testing

File: Between-Hills, Expanded.png (166 KB, 2934x1449)

166 KB PNG

In the following morning, after handing over your letter to the courier, having sealed it with wax pressed upon by your signet ring, you return to your camp to meet with your officers. In the short day that you had spent writing your letter, a whole new camp was raised from the ground; but more than the village of tents that you had seen erected every single day upon the field, this one had purpose of length: wooden palisades sourced from some ways south, where you spotted a verdant forest, were raised along its border, such that a few men could patrol its edge for possible attacks. Dirt roads dug to more easily allow wagons to pass; small 'ranches' where horses and oxen could be kept when not grazing the fields of the valley.

It was impressive, the speed at which engineers and soldiers went through such a process - though perhaps not surprising: they must have done such things hundreds of times during their service.

Regardless of such, you make your way to the command tent, where Hugues, your second in command, and Provençal, your quartermaster, await you, already deep in conversation.

"How do things go?" you question, alerting them of your arrival.

"We have done as you asked, meu seynor. The camp has been all but set; our regiment is ready to aid in the siege efforts." begins Hugues.

"Good - then what are our orders? I had been told by Carles that they would be relayed to you."

"There are...none, sire, save for requesting usage of your artillery to continue battering the walls. Artillery Master Vettorio has already gone with his cannon to do so."

You can confirm that much; even from hear, you can hear the sounds of the cannnonade raining upon the city, and amidst them, the one that you had heard throughout your whole campaign.

"Is there no danger of counter-fire? Does the foe not possess cannons of their own?" you ask; if your army were to lose its guns, that would be very much bad for your goals.

"Nay," answers your sergeant-major. "From what I have been told, only the small Saker fieldguns brought by Don Octavi are outranged by the defenders; It would seem that they've none as far-ranged as a culverin.

"I understand, but...what doth you mean by no orders, Hugues? There is nothing or us to do?"

"Nothing we have been ordered to do, sire. The truth of sieges is that until there is a significant breakthrough in the defenses, all that can be done is wait. With that said, however...there are many matters that could be done in relation to the maintenance of our siege camp - we may send out troops to forage or scout, as we had done during our march, or perhaps instead to collect timber from the forests south to improve our fortifications or if just to use as firewood."

File: Monthly Report, 1.png (583 KB, 1056x767)

583 KB PNG

"I see..yet none of these things require mine own presence, do they not?"

"Indeed, sire; and as the colonel of our regiment and an honourable viscount, we must simply not endanger your lordship by making a waste of your time with such rudimentary tasks."

You had known sieges to be waiting games, but to this extent? By the splendour, if this turns into a matter of years, you shall surely not maintain your sanity. Still, you must do as is your duty...

Foreword

Before moving onto the ruleset, I would wish it to be said that you are not forced, as the player, to keep track of every moving piece. All statuses or numbers shall be kept track of by myself, and Alessandro shall be informed when any 'dangerous' or 'noteworthy' situations are afoot. Though strategizing is extremely welcomed, there is no need to feel overwhelmed by the system


RULES

You have now entered a Siege. In the age of gunpowder, advances in fortifications have led to the turning of sieges into lengthy, slow, and painful matters. Rather than weeks, events shall now be shown in a format of months It shall be your role, as Colonel, to lead your regiment through these months, ensuring they remain fed, paid, and protected from the elements. There is no timer; the siege shall continue indefinitely until a breakthrough is made, or changes occur such that the siege is called off.

Events
During each month, a number of events may occur. These range from positive to negative and anywhere inbetween. Your foraging parties may be attacked, or your scouts may find an enemy force marching on its way to attack you. Keep in mind, however, that not every event will have an immediately obviously outcome...

Regiments
They are your army; your soldiers. When not faced with the prospect of field battles, there is little importance in the divisions of an regiment save for that of their overall capabilities; as such, the soldier of not only your regiment but of every other under the Army of Segoma is divided by type. (For more specific organization, please refer to the Field Handbook)

Supplies
It has been said that an army marches on its stomach, and this is no less true here. Your supplies are what determines whether your army shall be fed, and starvation can be a far more fearsome foe than bullets or spears. Keep in mind these terms...

Local Availability represents the physical wealth of the region. It can range from Very Poor, Poor and Average to Rich and Very Rich. This value determines the ease with which your soldiers may forage and sack supplies from the countryside, and is heavily dependant on both your location and season of the year.

Supply represents any 'consistent' stream of supplies being received by your army; in this case, the supplies you receive by sea. There are various levels of supply. Insufficient means your supply is wholly unable to support your army; it shall only barely slow the decrease of your storage. Lacking means they are far more decent, yet still not enough; they will somewhat slowdown your supply consumption, taking two months to burn through a single month's worth of supplies. Sufficient means you have enough to feed your entire army and will suffer no supply loss whatsoever. Finally, Plentiful means you are receive all you require and then some; actively increasing your supply storage every month.

Status represents how well your army is doing at the moment; a well-supplied army is not only happier, but more capable as well. It is in your best interest to maintain this value as high as possible.

Stored represents how many weeks of supply you hold in your baggage train; It is what ensures you will continue to eat even if your foraging parties fail. Lose it, or let your supplies run dry, and your army will begin to starve. It should be kept in mind, however, that losing your stored supplies does not spell instant death; as long as your troops are capable of foraging from the land, you may continue to remain afloat.

Finances
The general who does not pay his soldiers will not remain a general for much longer. In this age of warfare, no soldiers holds loyalty greater than to that of cold, hard cash. It is what motivates them, and it is what keeps you in charge.

Warchest represents the wealth you have stored. It can increase or decrease as a result of events or purchases, but its main usage is to pay the wages of your soldiers at the start of each month.

Upkeep represents the total sum of the wages demanded by your army; this includes not only your recruited soldiers, but your mercenary companies and specialists as well. Failing to pay them in time will have grave consequences...

Months Until Bankruptcy reprents how many months worth of wages your warchest is capable of paying.

Tasks
In this period of early modern warfare, the 'Little War' is more important than ever. You may, at the start of a week, assign any number of your companies to carry out any 'task' you deem necessary. Although the choice remains in your hands, some are particularly important.

Scouting
Companies assigned to this task will dedicate their time to studying the land ahead of your army, looking out for villages, hostiles, or indeed anything of note. The only units capable of scouting are 'Mounted or 'Light Infantry'

Foraging
Companies assigned to this will dedicate their time to pillaging and harvesting the land, sacking villages and farm fields for supplies. It is a bloody, but ultimately necessary effort. Although any unit is capable of foraging, mounted and light foot units will have a far easier time of it.

Labor
Finally, you may dedicate your units to raw labour, using their manpower to work on projects for the war effort. Mercenaries and Mounted units are unable to be dedicated to this; their superior 'value' means they shall entirely refuse being put to work like peasants.

"Very well, then, let us decide what to do."

HOW WILL ALESSANDRO PASS HIS TIME? CHOOSE ONE.
>He shall remain in his tent and read his books
>He shall fraternize with one particular person (If so, who?)
>He shall petition Don Carles for better supplies
>Write-in

SHALL YOU ASSIGN UNITS TO A TASK?
>Yes (Specify which units, and which tasks)
>No

Field Handbook - https://rentry.org/TercioQuest

Almost forgot.

>>6278457
>He shall petition Don Carles for money
We have a month and a half of wages left, this is dangerous

>Assign all mounted units to foraging, and the rest to labor. The mercenaries can guard the camp.
>Use our local recruits' knowledge to find foraging targets. Maybe even search for less plundered regions farther than the immediate vicinity

File: Trojan_horse_in_Canakkale(...).jpg (84 KB, 465x363)

84 KB JPG

>>6278457
QM, does anything like the Iliad exist in this universe?

>>6278491
+1

>>6278491
Supporting this, with the qualifier that asking Don Carles for money is just making sure we have it and our men are being paid, not, like, asking for more than our fair share

>>6278491
>>6278718
+1
>>6278533
the funny thing about the iliad is that the trojan horse episode doesnt happen in it
I don't think it'd work anyways, wile e coyote aah tactic

>>6278457
QM, how good is our shipborne artillery? Can we attempt a mass landing under its cover?

>>6278842
As previously mentioned, attempting to land would be a death sentence due to the coastal batteries of Montechia. As a whole, coastal batteries are nearly always more powerful than shipborne cannons, not being constrained by size nor weight.

>>6278491
Alright, this vote wins, writing

File: The Tax Collectors, Quent(...).jpg (108 KB, 586x709)

108 KB JPG

Though it is not a matter that many consider proper, you know above all of the importance of money; from the heaviest of gold bullion to the smallest copper coin, they are the very basis from whence civilized society is built, more fundamental even than the bonds of lord and vassal, and the blood which selects them for the right of rule. It is only through wealth that artisans are able to build, that farmers may cultivate crops to feed distant cities.

It follows, then, that having seen your own reserves to be running dangerously low, it falls on you to deal with an issue.

"Greetings be to you, your highness." you say, as you approach Don Carles on horseback. You both currently stand at the hills at the mouth of the valley, those hills where you had first gazed upon the siege that you now partake in. The finely-dressed prince seems rapt in thought, staring at all occurring bellow him.

"Greetings be to you as well, Don Alessandro. What is it that brings you to me?" he says, not for a moment breaking his study of the land.

"It is the matter of coin, my liege. Though I'd not wish to impress upon you, the warchest that I had brought through my lone campaign stands capable of paying my regiment for but a single month more." you reply, clearly stating your current case yet not directly asking your lordship for the funds he had promised: such was the way Etiquette demanded it.

"...I see." he answers, calm as always. "Very well, then. Send your list of payments to my quartermaster. I shall see to it that they are handled."

"My gratitude upon you, Don Carles."

And so, with but a single word from your liege, your monetary woes are solved; From now on, so long as you continue to be camped with the Army of Segoma, your upkeep will be immediately paid by Don Carles at the end of a month.

With such issues handled, you return to the normalcy of camp life, waiting to see how the other matters of the month will turn out...

>ROLL 1D100, THREE TIMES

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>6279011
Based Carles

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>6279011
Hard to beat that 91

File: IMG_5040.jpg (137 KB, 1125x1096)

137 KB JPG

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>6279019
Damn.
>>6279011

File: pog.png (47 KB, 136x125)

47 KB PNG

>>6279019
Oh here we go

>>6279019
heheheheheheh

>>6279016
>>6279019
>>6279022
Well, that's one way to start of the thread.

Give me a moment, I gotta think of a way to give you a critical that doesn't immediately skip through the entire siege.

>>6279433
Lmao, take your time.

Maybe that giant will come through for us...

File: Spoiler Image (651 KB, 935x590)

651 KB PNG

For the following weeks, a 'peace' of sort seems to fall over your own livings. Although the siege continues on day and night, cannonshot fired at the walls and returned upon the ever-encroaching trenches in return. You spend your days all but idling, overseeing the management of your camp or talking with your fellow noble lords about plans and strategies. In the meanwhile, your soldiers continue on with their duties, nearly all of your army save that of your mercenaries sent away to scour the land for more supplies or ascertain the state of the region, looking out for relief armies that may come from the south or east.

And in that regard...they do wonderfully.

Your scouts, of course, report nothing of the sort. Indeed, it seems that after your campaign, nearly all of Tilano has been pacified. Whatever holdouts still remain loyal to the Fortelli family have learned well to remain within their walls and wait out to see the winner. Once this city falls, the region shall truly be yours, and with it, the road to Montellegaria, the capital of Nera, will be wide open.

Similarly, your foragers do well and above what you had expected; venturing a few days south, neath the coasts of the Carsa River that lays down southeast of Montechia, they found several villages, their storehouses ripe with harvest from the late spring. They took them without issue, cutting down the resistance in their path and bringing to your camp a considerable sum in supplies.

+ RESERVE MAINTAINED
+ RESERVE INCREASED

As the final days of December approach, bringing summer together with it, it had seemed to you that the rest of the year would be left in this stalemate, but yet...!

You are in your camp, during mid-day. Amidst a slowly crackling fire, you and other nobles from your army enjoy some pillaged wine, drinking it merrily as you dine upon salted venison. You reach for the bowl of white bread, reserved for your upper circle - and thunder permeates your very being.

A crack, an burst of sound so heavy you can feel it upon your bones, so surprising in its nature that you fall to the ground. Across the camp, horses scream in surprise, almost throwing some men from their saddles entirely. You turn your head to the source, to the mighty source of this shattering sound: and you see a cloud.

A black and white cloud, growing ever greater into the skies, far greater than any you had seen before, rising from amidst the hill. You waste not a single second before ordering that it be found immediately what had happened; though you've already an idea of what it might have been...

File: Spoiler Image (237 KB, 1870x1553)

237 KB PNG

It takes only a few minutes to confirm your suspicions: in a stroke of what could be seen as unbelievable luck or grave misfortune, a great powder magazine hidden in one of the corner towers of the southernmost fortress was hit, sparking its contents and blowing the entire thing sky high. Indeed, so great is the cloud of dirt and smoke thrown from the explosion that smatterings of dirt, ash and pulverized stone rain upon the field like winter snow for several minutes - even now, the smoke has not dissipated.

Yet despite the utter destruction of the corner tower, of the gigantic breach delivered upon the walls of Montechia, there is no movement in your own part. No orders arrive for your forces to move out and assault the opening. You send for a messenger to ask your liege for orders, yet the answer is all the more puzzling: We are not to attack.

You cannot understand it: new as you may be to the art of warfare, you have read enough, seen enough to know that a breach of such scale would be of immeasurable value. So why does he not charge?

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION
>Attempt to convince your liege into launching an assault before the breach is patched up
>Have your culverin sent south to continue bombarding the area
>Trust Don Carles' planning
>Write-in

>>6279472
>Trust Don Carles' planning

>>6279472
>Attempt to convince your liege into launching an assault before the breach is patched up

>>6279472
>>Trust Don Carles' planning

Simply getting to the breach we would suffer atrocious casualties by the look of it, the loss of their magazine is quite fortunate though.

>>6279472
>Have your culverin sent south to continue bombarding the area

>>6279472
>WRITE IN: Attempt to convince your liege to allow your culverin sent south to continue bombarding the area

This feels like something we should ask for permission on, but keeping fire on the area might prevent them from rebuilding

>>6279472
>Trust Don Carles' planning

Carles hasnt proven himself a fool yet
We should follow his orders.

>>6279472
>Suggest to Don Carles that we send the culverin south, but go with his plan if his objections are reasonable

>>6279472

>>6279499
>>6279602
+1 to these

>>6279472
>>Trust Don Carles' planning
He hasn't steered us wrong yet, and he's also paying for our forces so it's the least we can do

>>6279472
>>Trust Don Carles' planning
He seems like a reasonable fellow, so he surely has some ace up his sleeve. Or whatever the equivalent is in this setting.

>>6279472
>>6279478
changing my vote for these
>>6279602
>>6279499
+1
>>6279731
>he surely has some ace up his sleeve. Or whatever the equivalent is in this setting
I guess something akin to the lansquenet card game would be fitting

>>6279476
>>6279479
>>6279499
>>6279558
>>6279602
>>6279668
>>6279817
It would seem that trusting Don Carles but suggesting that you send your culverin south to bombard the remnants and stop rebuilding wins.

No update today, I'm getting ready for a several hours trip. I'll get something up tomorrow, though.

File: Firing Arcs, Drawn.png (269 KB, 2590x2464)

269 KB PNG

Now, you're no sycophant who believes those of a higher station to be utterly without failure. Just as it is in their monarchical nature to order those below them, it is in your nature, as a man of the nobility, to possess the good mind to see issues the decisions of your liege lord. Don Carles may be of the grandest lineage of Mauva, but he is no holy man. And so, to learn that he has decided not to attack brought you some manner of pause.

With that thought however, you also knew the man to be one not so easily trifled with; he is no mere spoiled brat who served as but a spare for the imperial line, but a Crown Prince and a true candidate for the Crown of Mirevale. If he held some other manner of plan, you would put your trust in it. With that said; it would be truly foolish to simply allow the enemy to do as they please. Waving off your bodyguards, you set off to find Don Carles, that you may greet him with a new proposition: to assign your own regiment's culverin to continuously bombard the breached area and stop any attempts at building a makeshift barricade.

Whipping your horse into a sprint, you and your retinue make your way to the southern camp. Though you had not journeyed through it yet, it seemed no different than from your own: a sea of tents of various sizes, men around campfires, and sutlers practing their trades. Entering the Colonels' tent, you see Don Carles, wearing his armor as he usually is, besides Don Fadrique de Caduyas, your colossal fellow from Zaroza. You bow to your liege, as is customary.

"Your lordship, I came as soon as I had heard the others: we are to hold back?"

"Heh, surprising, isn't it?" comments Fadrique, jovial as he usually is. "I'd asked his highness but the same question."

"The reason for my refusal to attack is simply a matter of geometry, Don Alessandro. Even if that tower had vanished entirely, it would have cost most of our army and then some to march through it."

He pointed to a table in the tent; one containing what seemed to be figurs and replicas of fortresses and walls, put together such that they were not too dissimilar to the fortifications that awaited you in the city (barring, of course, the still-standing corner tower in the replicas). Approaching them, he took out a wooden stick of sorts, and began to drag it as if to show you something.

"Fortifications built in the style of the Trace Colibrenne are built on the strategy of overlapping fire. To even reach the breach, our men would be forced to charge under the fire of not one nor two positions, but three. And that, of course, is without counting any men that may be deployed on the curtain walls."

Having not had any experience in such matters, you had not considered of such specific effects in the shape of a fortress. You'd seen how much damage an arquebusier's volley could do upon an ill-ready foe.

"In that case, sire, shall we not at least place a cannon to prevent them from rebuilding some defences? Mine own culverin could very easily be drawn here for such a matter."

"We shall, of course. However, a mortar would be most capable in such a matter, being capable of firing upon it without a direct line of sight."

"Very well, I thank you for the explanation, Don Carles."

"For now, you've no need to worry about an assault, Don Alessandro. Continue as you may."

And so, you returned to your rest.

It was now nearly the end of the year; soon enough, the night of the 31st of december would be upon you, the eve to the new year. It was a common holiday, amidst all cultures, to commemorate in those days they considered to be the final revolving point of the seasons. It was no holy day - sermons would be held for the prayer of a good new year, but not much more.

The soldiery, of course, would be partying as well as they could, no less due to the imminent arrival of their monthly salaries. Fruits and sweets would be eaten and beverages would be drunk to welcome the new times and the arrival of the summer season. You've no much doubt it's the same for the men in the walls of Montechia, lest their morale be driven to the lowest of points.

It does, of course, beg a question: where shall you spend this eve?

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION
>Fraternizing with your own regiment
>Socializing with the other noblemen
>In your tent, alone, reading.
>Write-in

Last time I leave my updates for after i've had to spend half the day driving.

>>6280349
>Fraternizing with your own regiment

Seems like we've been hanging with the nobles a lot. Good to keep up the morale of our troops.

Also Don Carles seems pretty based. I'm glad we were polite and he was fine with explaining.

>>6280349
>>Fraternizing with your own regiment
The boys need some love

>>6280349
>Fraternizing with your own regiment

Should improve our regiments image of us

>>6280349
>Fraternizing with your own regiment

>>6280349
>Fraternizing with your own regiment
Loyal soldiers mean more bodies between us and the enemy.

>>6280366
Alessandro Galliota, Hero of the Empire...

>>6280349

>Fraternizing with your own regiment

Soldiers will be more willing to fight if they think of us well.

>>6280349
>Fraternizing with your own regiment

>>6280349
>>Socializing with the other noblemen

>>6280349
>Spent it alone with our servant, Joan

>Spent it alone with our servant, Joan

>>6280353
>>6280355
>>6280356
>>6280357
>>6280366
>>6280374
>>6280378
>>6280437
>>6280558
Fraternizing with your own regiment wins

File: Irish Soldiers and Farmer(...).jpg (188 KB, 800x596)

188 KB JPG

You've no delusions about some 'fanatical loyalty' of your regiment. If it were not for the payment they receive, you would be deserted to the last. Still so, do these men not march towards death under your orders? Is it not you who they have followed so far from their homes? In the books you have read, sieges all too commonly end in two ways: a long, drawn out starvation campaign, which could see your men stuck in these shores for years on end...or an assault, as costly as it is bloody.

To these men whom know not if they shall see the end of the year that shall soon arrive, commemorations such as these are all too well deserved.

With that said, you cannot party with the men; it would be far too great a breach of etiquette, and worst of all, it would be all but a dampener to the mood. What manner of soldier, so attuned to the brutish and blunt ways of their class, would be able to revel in the presence of one such as yourself? It would bring them nothing but unease, being forced to watch their own acts so as to not offend their noble lord.

There are, however, a few amidst them you'd have no issue carousing with, and that is their Captains. Those trusted with such a position are but always either nobles themselves, or commoners who, through martial valour, have earned the right to stand besides the noble class in the field of battle.

And so, in the last hours of the last night of the year, you and your captains eat and drink merrily around a table, lamps and campfires sending away the darkness as you enjoy the finest of the provisions one could find in a camp. Fresh meat, hunted in the local wilds and sold to your camp by poachers all too happy to use the breakdown of order to line their pockets. Whereas the soldiers had no choice but to stay content with salted pork and dried meats, you ate roasted hare and cooked lamb. You had wine, rather than rum, and bread rather than hardtack.

You found yourself talking, in particular, with the leader of the Banda Grisa mercenaries, Lucon Demaro. The old, gray-haired mercenary whose long colorless hair had gained him the name of Barbagris even during his youth happily celebrated, drinking to every toast raised in the night.

"Hah! Another year still yet dodging the grim hand of death." he says, raising his tankard and turning to you. "Viscount, it's a good campaign you've been running. Well paid, none too hard, and with good foes to kill. My men in the Arquebus company have yet to stop bragging about the giants they've fallen."

"You've not fought them before?"

"Nay, and I'm not all too sure I'd have lived if I had. I fought alongside one of their bands, once, in the lands of Vidrel."

The Vidrellians...? You'd not read much about them, or perhaps you had simply forgotten. You've only the distinct memory of knowing their kingdom to be amidst the oldest in the land, as old as the age of the old giants, when Miravel had been but a patchwork of tribes, cities and petty warbands. You also know them to be reputed throughout the very continent as mad barbarians who charge into battle with naught but the barest of armors and not a single regard for their lives.

"It wasn't any great war, mind." says the mercenary captain as he recounts the story. "I'd reckon there's been skirmishes in those regions for centuries by now, and the Montcherians are always looking for hired swords to pressure them. I was just a young man by then, hadn't even formed the Banda Grisa. Some simple raiding missions eventually turned into a proper campaign, and before I knew it, a battle of former armies had begun...until those damn Sbravani arrived and shattered the men with their bows. You've ever seen one of those, lad? They've the power of a cannon with several times the speed. If there's anything that's ever brought me close to quitting this trade, it was the sight of seeing a whole formation of men skewered like pigs by arrows the size of a pike."

He gives out a hearty laugh.

"But I've spoken enough of myself. What of your lordship, Sir Viscount? What stories brought thee to this table, this very night, if it not be too rude to ask?"

Well...

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION
>Talk about your time in Mascaloma
>Tell him you've not any interesting stories such as his
>Ask something else about his past instead
>Write-in

>>6280776
>>Talk about your time in Mascaloma
tit for tat.

If we can, do express further interest in his stories. This man is a wealth of knowledge that could help with not just fighting, but even trading afterwards.

>>6280776
>Talk about your time in Mascaloma

would be rude not share since he has.

>>6280776
>Talk about your time in Mascaloma

>>6280776
>>Talk about your time in Mascaloma

>>6280776
>>>Talk about your time in Mascaloma

Eh, worth a shot.

>>6280776
None of those guys are farmers; the two on the right are kerns, low-status soldiers

>Talk about your time in Mascaloma

>>6280778
>>6280791
>>6280875
>>6280939
>>6280942
Talking about Mascaloma Wins

>>6280944
"Irish Soldiers and Farmers" is the name of the painting.

>>6281310
Huh, I never knew

>>6281321
I generally try to put the name of the painting as the filename whanever I use one.

File: The Academy of Baccio Ban(...).jpg (95 KB, 600x391)

95 KB JPG

Some might consider it a breach of etiquette to speak of such matters with a stranger, but you've no reason to deny the captain of a story - and as a yet young man, from a peaceful and stable realm, there is but one thing you can think of.

"Though it is no tale of war, I've no doubt that my time in the Universitat Impériale in Mascaloma to be the most interesting of times, before I had embarked on this campaign."

"Ah, I've heard of it. It is no cheap or easy task to gain entry to this school, I have heard."

"Indeed, Captain Demaro. To enroll oneself in the Imperial University requires either great influence or vast wealth. Indeed, save for those wealthiest of burgher sons from the lineages of bankers and commercial magnates from Bagra, my inheritance as Viscount in a Princely State was of no great notice. It was only the unordinary wealth of Uharta, and the honor of Grandée that made it so my enrollment was possible."

You stop for a moment, taking a sip from your goblet of wine.

"Mascaloma is a city of unending sprawl. Without a doubt, the largest of the human race. Hundreds of markets, thousands of taverns...to be a young man of the blood, with great wealth in his pockets and weeks away from the prying eyes of one's parents...it is not hard to see how many of my colleagues held little control over themselves. Under the law of the crown, students hold the status of the Clergy. That is to say...they are all but immune to common crime. Only a tribunal of the church may condemn them."

"I've already heard of the lot. Common ruffians, is the word around, dueling and drinking and doing as they will upon the cities they infest." says the captain, rubbing his beard. Around you, men continue to drink and eat, engrossed in their own conversations.

"You've no error there, captain, though it be the sons of merchants that are the worst of the lot. They've no Noblesse Oblige binding their reputation. I had met a band, once, who had no greater love than bringing others into their petty fights. One eve, I had been in a tavernhouse, studying a book. They had approached me, claiming my studies of Agrastus to be outdated and irrelevant, calling me an Antiquarian. When I had told them it was their nature as mere exchangers of money that stopped them from understanding the finer works, the lots drew their knives! Drunk as they were, I've no doubt they would not have had the good sense to stay their hands."

"So what had your lordship done, then? Cut down the bastards as they should have been?"

"Nay, Captain. I'd not had carried a weapon, back then. It was this campaign where I first claimed a life; though what I did was as close as one could get. When the man approached, I slammed by drinking glass on the cur and ran. As I've heard, the shards had cut so deeply upon him he went blind on both eyes."

"Hah!" Lucon laughs, slamming his tankard on the table. "It's what a merchant bastard deserves. Thou've a great spirit, milord..."

File: Monthly Report, 2.png (600 KB, 1054x767)

600 KB PNG

And so, the commemorations continue, well into the night - and amidst the valley, the shore, and the sound of distant cannons, the Year of 1543 begins.

In the next morning, you yet again meet with your officers, though this time under a far more serious (and hungover) mood. The time has come to assign monthly details. Because you had assigned your men to labor duties, your Quartermaster says that they will be Unavailable for reassignment - they are, of course, still deep in work, though he assures you that the results will be quite visible soon.

HOW WILL ALESSANDRO PASS HIS TIME? CHOOSE ONE.
>He shall remain in his tent and read his books
>He shall fraternize with one particular person (If so, who?)
>He shall petition Don Carles for better supplies
>Write-in

SHALL YOU ASSIGN UNITS TO A TASK?
>Yes (Specify which units, and which tasks)
>No

>>6281357
How difficult would it be to sneak some troops in through the breach and conduct some sabotage behind the lines?

>>6281357
>He shall fraternize with one particular person (If so, who?)
The giant (more interrogation than fraternize). Kinda hoping we can learn more about him and his tribe and who might pay a ransom (or if he'd be interested to fight for us, in order to gain his freedom)

>>6281357
>He shall fraternize with one particular person (Joan)

Haven't spent much time with her, and I'm interested in seeing what she thinks of this whole endeavor.

>>6281477
Support

>>6281477
Support

>He shall fraternize with one particular person (Joan)

>>6281357
>He shall remain in his tent and read his books
Let's not forget, we are a bookworm and our intellect is perhaps our best weapon

>>6281357
>He shall fraternize with one particular person (Joan)

>>6281538
Yes, but we're a lover at heart

>>6281477
>>6281493
>>6281499
>>6281515
>>6281567
Fraternizing with Joan is the winnner.

You still need to vote for a task plan, though. Do you want to keep all your cavalry on foraging duties even though local availability has fallen to Very Poor?

>>6281663
Can we send the cav further afield? We don't want to starve the local peasantry to death, we need them to provide food next year too

>>6281673
You are already sending the cavalry pretty damn far, any more and you'll be talking about multiple month long foraging campaigns. They'd be foraging not for just for your own regiment but for themselves too.

>>6281663
I should probably specify, but I *do* need this in order to make the update. So I suppose I'll put it properly as a vote

SHALL YOU (RE)ASSIGN UNITS TO A TASK?
>Yes (Specify which units, and which tasks)
>No

>>6281698
>Yes (stop cavalry foraging)

>>6281703
Supporting

>>6281703
+1

File: Jacques Amyot, French Ren(...).jpg (138 KB, 539x800)

138 KB JPG

You are in your tent, surveying your desk of sorts. Though a book remains on it, open to whatever latest page you had read, you are not reading it, not now. In these latest weeks, you have come to feel a rather intense sense of boredom. It is weird to say, but you had never been quite as unoccupied as you currently are. In your hometown of Portblanc, even during the winter months, there were things aplenty to do - to oversee the running of the city, to settle disputes, to watch the latest theater play...yet now, outside of those little times of excitement and meetings with the other colonels, you've nothing but your tent and your books, and you've only brought so many.

You had begun to consider simply carousing around the city outskirts when another figure entered your tent - Joan, your lifelong servant. She carried with her a basket of clothing - freshly cleaned, you imagine.

"These clothes of yours have finally dried, sir. I have taken to simply stringing them up under cover alongside one of the bigger fires. It's not quite entirely dry, but with these constant rains, it is the best you can hope for."

It must be said, this manner of dialogue would have seen as preposterous had it been anyone else. Though you've several other servants along with you in this campaign, none other speaks with such irreverence as she does. No, it is better to say that none else speak to you as she does, save perhaps your ownn brother.

As she sets down the basket, she glances over to your desk. "What is it you are reading this time, Sir?"

"The Valcheniad." you reply.

The Valcheniad, of course, is the ancient "epic" of the Straccian people - it is very easy to forget, with how subtle it is, that Straccians are not human. Not entirely, at least. Though millenia of interbreeding had left them with all but the barest of differences, they had once been amidst the Uhren, the "Eared Ones", a race of savage predatory folk from the far north, across the Meringian Sea, in the land of Valschen. During the Great Migration, as they call it, they had departed from their homes, crossing lands and seas until they finally reached Straccia. The Valcheniad, written in the 8th century, depicts all these events, and is a work of no little popularity.

"The Valcheniad? I am particularly fond of that one." she says, as nonchalantly walking towards you, before leaning over you in the chair to look at the book in the deks. Which, of course, leaves her chest pressing into your neck and shoulders, and you not quite able to react properly. You would like to think of yourself as no mere pissant boy, blushing at the presence of another girl, yet you find it difficult to act differently when it comes to the owl-eared woman close to you.

"I do not recognize this language, Sir." she says, after a moment.

And without another word, the woman moves forward, and takes a seat...in your lap, the fluff in her neck and ears pressing amidst you as she maneuvers her neck to be by your side so as to allow you to see. If you were unable to speak then, you are entirely frozen now - and yet not a single ounce of shame or emotion seems to strike her face. She tilts her eyes, animalistic ears flipping along with them.

"What is it, sir? Do you not wish to read the book?"

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION
>Continue reading the book as you are
>Push her off you
>Something else...? (Write-in)

>>6282105
>Push her off you
Get off me, foul wench.

>>6282105
>Continue reading the book as you are
Let’s just see where this goes. No need to make a move one way or another.

>>6282105
>Continue reading the book as you are

family friendly reading time

>>6282105
>>Continue reading the book as you are
>Ask her what her thoughts on the story are. If it is one of her preferred ones, perhaps there is some wisdom to gain from her perspective?

Aka THE LAP AIN'T FREE

>>6282105


>>Continue reading the book as you are
>Ask her what her thoughts on the story are. If it is one of her preferred ones, perhaps there is some wisdom to gain from her perspective?

Adorable.

>>6282105
>Continue reading the book as you are
>Ask her what her thoughts on the story are. If it is one of her preferred ones, perhaps there is some wisdom to gain from her perspective?
>If the book has any romance, ask her opinion on that

>>6282105
>She tilts her eyes
Btw, can Joan turn her eyes like a human? Owls can't

>>6282281
+1

>Continue reading the book as you are
>Ask her what her thoughts on the story are. If it is one of her preferred ones, perhaps there is some wisdom to gain from her perspective?
>If the book has any romance, ask her opinion on that

>>6282326
Yeah, supporting all of them

>>6282105
>>Push her off you

>>6282105
>>Push her off you
YOU FREAK

>>6282105
>Something else...? (Write-in)
Mating press.
Naturally, as we can't go that far, we should try resting our hands on her legs, or wrapping our arms around her waist.

>>6282283
I wonder if we can see her eye tubes through her ears.

>>6282266
>>6282270
>>6282281
>>6282288
>>6282326
Reading The Book + Extra Wins

>>6282283
Ah, that is a mistake - what I meant to say was that she 'tilts her head'. Although she is technically capable of most things any other 'human-like' being could, she also has completely pitch-black eyes as some owls do.

File: Énée et Didon, 1815, Guérin.jpg (7.84 MB, 3869x2920)

7.84 MB JPG

If there was any doubt that this woman knew how she provoked you so, then it is gone now. Yet you are no earthly animal, dictated and controlled by your emotions like some common savage. You know of the reason you have not acted out your desires towards Joan; you know very well of the complications that would entail such a tryst. And so, putting your every ounce of will into ignoring the growing tightness in your lower regions, you simply...

Ignore it.

You begin to read the book, as you always had, narrating it in your own language, that Joan might understand. You focus yourself entirely on reading even as her body continues to press upon you, the feathery fluff gently swaying against your body with her every breath and her 'sizeable' chest ever so slightly pressing against your arm every time you turn a page.

It is, needless to say, not very easy.

Yet your will sees you through, and you continue to do so, reading through the old Valcheniad. The tale tells of an ancient tribe of the Uhren, forced from their homes by the swords of an foe. Without a home, they departed from the northern expanse of Valschen towards the southern coast, where, falling an entire forest with their own hands, they built a fleet to house their entire population, and set sail throug the Meringian.

The greatest portion of the epic follows Stracus, the young king of the departed tribe as they search throughout the vast sea for a new homeland. After a storm drives his royal ship away from his fleet, he sails aimlessly for years on end, finding mythical islands which almost always endanger and kill his men. Throughout the hours that you keep on reading, you do not hear a single word from Joan, not a single sound save from her soft breathing.

As you continue through yet another chapter, one tale in particular grabs your attention - that of Halcinea, the Queen of the Nymphs. Said to be of unearthly beauty, the lonely queen in her isle fell in love with the journeying king, offering him her hand and the magics to live eternally alongside her in that mythical kingdom. Yet the young king, smitten as he was, rejected the woman's offer, that he may return to his people and kingdom the way a monarch was meant to. Sneaking into his boat one night, he and his men set off, and the queen, heartbroken, throws herself upon a blazing pyre.

Perhaps as a way to distract yourself, you decide to ask Joan what are her thoughts of this tale of Halcinea. Amidst many other pieces of Straccian culture, it had gained a rather considerably popularity amidst Mauva and even Bach. You had more than once, in your tourings of Mascaloma, seen a picture depicting the 'beautiful' Halcinea and her 'tragic' love and death of Stracus. As for your own maid's opinion on the subject, well...

"Ah, the Queen? Truthfully, sir, I do not see what they see in her. She was rather foolish, was she not?"

"Whatever do you mean?" you reply.

"She had loved Stracus so, had she not? So much that his departured had driven her to take her own life. Had she loved him so dearly, would it not have been better had she fled the island with him and joined him on his journeys?"

"She was a Queen, was she not, Joan? One does not simply abandon their own birthright and duty for a matter as flimsy as love."

"Is death not abandonment, sir?" she fires back, quite calmly, though tinged with something else you cannot quite tell. "What good shall she do to her own people as ashes in a pyre, buried in the ground?"

"Mayhaps she was simply unable to do so. And even if she had done so, the young king already held himself a wife and a son. Imagine the trouble it might have spawned, had the long gone king returned with not only a lover, but children of his own? The conflicts amidst his followers? Amidst those who would seek to use the one who did not inherit as their own pretender?" you say, a bit more strongly than usual.

"Even so, had he truly no means other than to flee away in the night, never to so much as bid her farewell?"

"So that she may cry and beg him? Trap him in the island? The young king knew of what had to be done!" you say, harshly.

"Y-yes, that may be, but that does not mean that...!" she says, exasperated, standing from her spot in your lap. Yet before she says anything else, Joan stops, before recomposing herself.

"You are right, sir. It is what had to be done. If you may excuse me, I must fetch your dinner."

And without another word, she hurries away, leaving you alone in the tent, and with a feeling you cannot very easily describe.

"No matter." you tell yourself. It would be wiser to sleep early, that you may wake early as Provençal had asked, and seen with him the matter of your men's labor.

>ROLL 1D100, THREE TIMES

Rolled 17 (1d100)

>>6282555

Rolled 4413 (1d9999)

>>6282555
Crit

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>6282555
Wrong dice whoops lol

Too much risk

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>6282555
We fumbled fine shyt. You hate to see it.

>>6282555
Kiss her!! Kiss her you fool!!

>>6282557
>>6282568
>>6282573
>17, 18, 91
Not very good, but not the worst, either.

File: New Road.png (24 KB, 1107x1567)

24 KB PNG

In the days that follow your little meeting, things return to normal - Joan does not comment on your 'discussion' nor much change the way she acts, though she's yet to attempt any of her 'flirts' she's come to do every now and then. You, of course, say nothing either - perhaps it would be better to wait until this whole war is finished to deal with that sort of matter.

In other matters, Provençal at last called you to see what it is that he had been doing with all the men you had handed him, summoning you to the small village that was being used as a port - with the specific request that you do so by way of the roads, rather than simply crossing the open valley. Perplexed by the strange request, but knowing him to be a trustworthy man, you decide to do so.

Passing through the valley pass, you and your retinue move up the road north towards the coast, looping around the large hill before finally hitting the shores, then yet again moving east. It takes you a few hours to do so, but eventually you reach the village port. In the distance, you see a few large trade galleons anchored on the shore, no doubt delivering the many, many supplies required to maintain the siege effort.

You meet with Provençal outside of a small chapel, the man having just seemingly went to a sermon that was being held for the stationed soldiers and few villagers who had remained.

"Greetings, milorde." he says as he approaches you, mounting his horse. "I realize it may sound tiring, having just asked you to do so, but I request that your lordship join me as we move south. We may have to pick up the pace, as well."

"..Very well, Quartermaster." you reply. "But I must hope you've a greater point to all this travelling. The roads here were horribly mud-filled, thanks to the constant rains of this season."

"Correct, sire, and it shall only get worse." he continues, as you two begin galloping south, upon a road you did not exactly remember seeing before. "Though the splendour hath blessed this land with fertility beyond measure, such rains are of little help to the ferrying of supplies. Plenty of wagons have already been lost, and I presume even more shall."

"Why have you brought me here, then, Provençal? Already a month has gone by with most of my men working as 'labourers' under you - what have you used them for?" you ask, beginning to lose your patience with the overtly unclear man.

"With this, sire." he says, finally answering you, as you reach the end of the road - where well over a hundred men continue to work on digging a path through the dirt, clearing out the vegetation and compacting the soil underneath.

"In the past month, sire, I've had your men work on making a road through this side of the hill - a direct road towards the camps. I believe this might help cut the danger of our supply wagons considerably, that they would not be forced to traverse a hill through muddy roads."

He speaks the truth - aside from being a far 'shorter' road, there would be far less danger. You've already heard of some wagons losing their footing and barrelling down the hill before crashing and rendering all its supplies intact...as well as severely wounding the man who had been piloting it. Certainly, it is a good usage of your men; but something yet bugs you.

"Where are the others, then, Provençal? I see only a few hundred men, yet I have given you well over a thousand to use in these labour projects."

"That is why I had brought you here, sire." he says, as regal and strict as ever. "This road you see is but the first, I would hope, part of this project. As the rain intensifies, lands beneath hills such as these shall be flooded all the more so. Dirt alone would not be enough to help it. I had planned, therefore, to turn it into a log road."

Log roads? You had heard of them, but never actually seen one; supposedly, in areas of great wetness, such as swamps or marshes, roads would be made out of logs, that they may resist the mud. If that is his goal, however...

"May I presume you have sent the rest of my men to work as loggers, then?"

"That is to, sire." he replies. "Yet, I am afraid it is not enough. We have already acquired quite a few logs, but this path requires a far greater amount, long as it is. And because your soldiery all but entirely hail from the city, their experience is certainly lacking. It is not as easy as acquiring firewood."

"And so, we've a problem to solve, then. What do you reccomend?" you ask.

"Well, there are a few options, sire..."

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION
>Import the lumber from your homeland through the ships (Cost: 1,300 Imperii)
>Force the locals into helping you with the logging
>Ask the other noblemen to dedicate their own men to the matter
>Force your mercenaries/cavalrymen to help too (Specify which, or if both)
>Write-in

>>6283002
>Ask the other noblemen to dedicate their own men to the matter
Doubt they’d help much, but it’s better to at least try before forcing anybody or blowing any money.

>>6283002
>Force the locals into helping you with the logging
We’ve been remarkably kind to the locals and in a way, this does benefit them. I see no real reason not to do this. Asking our lords will spend political capital and buying the logs will be actual capital

>>6283002
>Ask the other noblemen to dedicate their own men to the matter
It'll be a good use of everyone's time.

>>6283002
>>Ask the other noblemen to dedicate their own men to the matter

Maybe we can do this in a quid pro quo manner. Have our men help in tasks they are good at, while they give us woodsmen.

>>6283080
Supporting

I think your logic makes sense

>>6283002
>>6283035
+1

Just nobles doing noble things really. Maybe we can frame it as a generational investment for them.

I don't really want to pay for infrastructure in a foreign land, and not involving the other nobles means we should get credit for the endeavor

>>6283080
+1

>>6283026
>>6283069
>>6283080
>>6283114
>>6283178
>>6283192
Asking the other noblemen for help wins, writing.

File: Siege of Montechia, January.png (1.5 MB, 10000x7082)

1.5 MB PNG

Your first thought was to simply import the wood. If there was already a supply line bringing goods to this small port (almost certainly from Santula or other nearby friendly states who might be willing to sell, rather than going all the way back to Mirevale itself) then it follows that it would not be too difficult to buy lumber. The cost, however, seemed to be a bit prohibitive for you. Your money was your lifeline in this foreign land, and you did not wish to reduce it, not when there were other paths.

Your second thought was to simply conscript the peasants of the region into the effort. Certainly, you had been plenty of kind to them, had you not? Many a general would have simply razed all into the ground as his army went past, looting and killing as they pleased. However, this plan was cut short when you remembered that by now, most of the ablebodied had fled southwards or eastwards to avoid conflict. Finding enough men to constitute a working force would be rather difficult.

And so, you are left with one other option: to ask for the aid of your fellow colonels.

In the next 'meeting' between the colonels of the army, you bring up the idea, repeating many of the arguments put forth by Provençal. Though they seem to agree, there is still some apprehension; to pull men from the siege only increases the risk, should an attack or sally be made. Still, your arguments are well enough that Don Fadrique begins to speak.

"Well, lad, you've a good plan there...and it just so happens that a few of my companies are sourced from the south of Zaroza. With all the lumber mills, those men ought to have plenty of experience in the deal. I'll send them over."

"My gratitude, Count."

"It's nothing, Don Alessandro. I'll welcome anything that gets me my monthly shipment of wine to my tent faster, heh!" he responds, chortling in that cavernous voice of his.

And so, just as he had promissed, your men in the woods south of the valley soon find themselves joined by the men from Zaroza. With actual loggers in the workforce, the entire operation becomes far more efficient. Within weeks, the efforts to lay down the massive quantities of logs for the 'Timber Road' has already begun, and should be finished by the middle of next month., short of any other complications happening.

It is now well into summer: by the final days of January, the heat has grown such that you have all but been forced to abandon the notion of going about your days in full plate armor, lest you suffer from heatstroke. Your only rest from the beating rays of sun are during the almost daily rain showers, sudden downpours that appear with little warning, assault the earth with its ear-deafening squalls, before vanishing as quickly and as suddenly as they had arrived. The worst, of course, is the mud. It has gone to a point where you been forced to cover the ground around your tent lest it be turned into a dirty sludge.

File: Monthly Report, 3.png (583 KB, 1055x767)

583 KB PNG

The siege, of course, goes as slowly as it could have gone - apparently, there had been almost no advances in the sapping efforts, no thanks to the rain flooding the trenches as soldiers tried to dig, and almost dragging the cannons down into the earth as they fired.

It would seem, yet again, that there is nothing to do but wait and carry out your duties. As with the previous month, your men will be available for reassignment while they finish the Timber Road.


HOW WILL ALESSANDRO PASS HIS TIME? CHOOSE ONE.
>He shall remain in his tent and read his books
>He shall fraternize with one particular person (If so, who?)
>He shall petition Don Carles for better supplies
>Write-in

SHALL YOU (RE)ASSIGN UNITS TO A TASK?
>Yes (Specify which units, and which tasks)
>No

>>6283412
>He shall fraternize with one particular person (Don Fadrique)

>>6283412
>He shall fraternize with one particular person (Don Fadrique)
Guy seems cool.

>>6283437
Support

>>6283412
>>He shall remain in his tent and read his books
Book worm, anons

>Yes (Specify which units, and which tasks)
Only thing I can think of is finding other sources of water. If it's this hot in January, I can't imagine how hot it will get and a shortage of clean water will kill an army quicker than anything else

>>6283412
>He shall remain in his tent and read his books
It's been a long time since we read, hasn't it
>Yes
Put our cavalry out as scouts as a precaution in case a relief army comes from the east.

>>6283864
Aren't we basically in a jungle? Constant heavy rains, very hot, thick forests...

Sorry, no update today, my neck feels like shit and I can barely turn without it hurting like hell.

>>6283953
>jungle
I didn’t interpret it as that, due to how much of a breadbasket it is. I just imagine it’s like the great American plains or Ukraine, with more forest.

>>6284011
No biggie. Enjoy your Saturday

>>6283412
>He shall remain in his tent and read his books
>>6283864
>finding other sources of water
+1

>>6283953
+1

>>6284026
>I just imagine it’s like the great American plains or Ukraine, with more forest.
They grow stuff like watermelons and are in the coast. They also mention having really bad storms. It's at the very least closer to Florida or some such other 'warm and humid' climate than a temperate region like Ukraine.

>>6283864
>>6283953
>>6284034
>>6284256
To remain in the tent and read the books wins.

I'll also give a freebie and say that there is plenty of access to water, not only from wells from the outskirt villages they seized, but from, well, the rain. As for whether it's clean, well...it's the 1500s. It's about as clean as water you can expect from that era.

File: Regions of Mauva.png (5.66 MB, 4593x2063)

5.66 MB PNG

Though you had at first thought of spending more time with the other nobles, and especially Don Fadrique, the constant rains quickly dissuaded you from the thought. The Count of Zaroza and his men had been stationed in the southern camp. Being required as you are to remain close to your camp whanever possible, that you may be able to lead them should any danger arise, you would be forced to travel in the rain; layman as you may be, you do not require a scholarsihp in the Santo Cor to know what ill exposure to rain does to one's health.

Instead, you shall remain in your tent, whose thick and finely crafted materials leave you entirely dry. Although your supply of books you have yet to read steadily dwindles as the siege goes on, there is one amongst them that you are sure you shall not be able to read until its very end - the Liber Regionum Mundi. You had already seen a few of its chapters, but had not done so further during this campaign. It was nigh time you changed that.

Taking the enormous, leather-bound tome from your book chest, you carry it over to your reading desk, and carefully place it in the pedestal. Flipping your way to the index, you begin to wonder of which region you should first read about.

There was, of course, that Kingdom of Giants, the holders of the Himmerian Plains, Sbrava. Having faced one of them in combat yourself, you could say with certainty that they were as imposing as the legends said. There was also Sudamedia, still reeling from the Colibrian Wars that had involved so much of the continent. There was the Lily Coast, where Chivalry was born, and Vidernia, where the oldest nations of humanity stood. Straitland, as you recall it, had been the site of the Eastern Crusades a few centuries before, and of course, the Valkes, one of the few in the eastern side of the continent to resist the ever-encroaching expansion of the League of Bach.

But which one to choose?

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION
>Sbrava
>Sudamedia
>Lily Coast
>Vidernia
>Straitland
>The Valkes

>>6284680
>Lily Coast

>>6284680
>Sbrava

>>6284680
>Sbrava
I think the giants are really cool and interesting

>>6284680
>Sbrava

>>6284680
>Lily Coast

>>6284680
>Sbrava

>>6284680
>Sbrava

>>6284680
>>Lily Coast

>>6284684
>>6284810
>>6285080
Lily Coast

>>6284693
>>6284697
>>6284738
>>6284832
>>6284884
Sbrava Wins.

File: Straccia, 1543.png (7.87 MB, 3442x2452)

7.87 MB PNG

Alright, this update might take a while, so I won't be able to finish it today. In order to tide you over until then, here's a political map of Straccia as of the year 1543

Feel free to ask any questions you have about it, and I can give some 'short' answers (not a full writeup, mind, you'll have to read about them in the book to get that)

>>6285164
Are any States based on historical irl analogues?

>>6285164
Do you have a terrain / climate map of the world?

>>6285175
Well..it's a bit obvious that Straccia is pretty much just Italy. To tell you the truth, I haven't really fully thought out how most of the states would be, beyond the surface since there is a chance you won't ever even get to see it, but there are some for whom I've had a specific idea for.
>The Most Serene Republic of Nera
It is, a bit obviously, inspired by Venice for the government, but more narratively so, it's inspired by Milan. More specifically, the very start of the war was inspired by how the Italian Wars began, with Charles VIII forging an alliance with Ludovico Sforza of Milan to intervene in the peninsula to solidfy his position as Duke of Milan.

>Despotate of Senucco
You will learn more about them, but they were inspired by Medieval Rome (No, not the Byzantines, but Rome itself during the Middle Ages) and in particular, one Cola di Rienzo.

>Kingdom of Allegro
This was also inspired by Rome, albeit more directly. You will notice that "Allegro" is the name of the ancient empire that owned the entire peninsula and then some and eventually fell.

>Judgedom of Avonna & Judgedom of Ghiabria
Although the lands themselves are different, the concept of the "Judgedom" government was taken from Sardinia's very own Judicature Kingdoms.

>Duchy of Silenia
Naples and Sicily, of course, but also the Duchy of Burgundy. You will find out later why.

>>6285178
Not yet, although I've meant to do one. I'm mostly stuck because I've yet to figure out how the *other* continents would look like. The rest of the world, that is, outside of Mauva.

>>6285531
Cool! The judgedoms seem the most interesting to me. I hope you manage to run the quest far enough so it gets as crazy as the real italian wars
I guess there's no analogue to the old swiss confederacy?

File: Himmeria & The Sbravani T(...).png (7.45 MB, 6755x2896)

7.45 MB PNG

Having at last fought one in the field, perhaps it would be interesting to learn more on the Sbravani, those greatly feared giants who even now could dispatch an army to relief this city with ease had they wished it so.

Chapter VIII, Section I: Sbravanskoye Tsarstvo
Capital: Hravasky
From of Rule: Absolute Monarchy
Faith: Himer Faiths

Within the heart of Mauva, there lies a great plain; entirely flat land, as far as the eye can see, desolate and bare. Little lives in that land, for what little does, does so greater than in any other land in the corners of the world. The Himmerian Plains are a vast steppe, whose few rivers borne from the vast mountains that border them in the north and south house plant life of enormous size. It is said that once, there had been animals whose stature was as great of the giants themselves, but, unable to quench the hunger of the maneaters, they were driven to extinction.

This event, our records say, is what first drove the Himmerians from out of their continental depths into the vast continent, a thousand years before the coming of the Splendorous Faith. For the millenia that followed, these giants, united under what they called their Eternal Kings, launched a campaign upon the unorganized and primitive human tribes of the continent, forging an empire which ranged from the very reaches of the Ascarpian Mountains, in the west, to the eastern coasts of the Valkes. Central Mauva was under their grip. The only ones to avoid this fate were the Vidrellians; ferocious hillmen who fought the giants with great abandon, fighting always to their last breath and with far greater numbers.

Throughout the ages, the Himmerian Yoke prevailed over the continent, humanity itself being kept as slaves and cattle for the Maneating Goliaths. The cruelty of their rule drove vast swathes of tribes not only towards the Mirevalian plains in the west, but north, towards the almost uninhabited forests of Straccia, and even further south, into the beastly wilds of Samica.

Yet even a reign such as theirs was not to last; their vast realm soon grew corrupt and decadent; unable to contain their cruelty towards their servants, they consumed themselves from within, waging slaughter upon their own with such ferocity that the very existence of their race came to be at risk. What little remnants remained were of no threat to the human race. They were, in almost their entirety, driven off the lands of the continent, their cities burnt and razed by those whom had served them. The Vidrellians, above all, took no little part in this matter, attacking them with such ferocity that it is said not a single stone of the ruins of old Himmeria remains in the eastern continent.

For the centuries that followed, the threat of the giant seemed as thought it had been eradicated, driven to the depths of the continent where they might have never again be seen. The Great Kingdom of Allegro, made from the descendants of the Uhrenics who had conquered Straccia around the time of the fall of the giants, rose to fill their position as the eminent power, exerting influence upon the countless human kingdoms that had been slowly forming through culture and trade.

Yet the threat of the giants was not to be forever slain; for they would soon make their return. It is not known what had occured to the giants within the depths of the plains; it is forbidden by their faith that a human should ever step foot within their heartlands, under the strict penalty of death through consumption. What we know is that amidst those that remained, one particular tribe of the giants rose amidst the rest: the Sbravani. Having united the giants once again, they forged an empire anew under their new 'Tsar', waging brutal wars of conquest against the nations of Mauva. It was these wars that triggered the downfall of Allegro, these wars that drove the Kings of Bagra to kneel in servitude to Mascaloma.

It had seemed to all that the days of Himmeria had returned, but to humanity's luck, this expansionism did not last...

You flip to the next section.

Chapter VIII, Section I: Veče Drovičei
Capital: Raskow
From of Rule: Noble Confederacy
Faith: Himer Faiths

Most of what is known about the workings of the Sbravani come from but one single source; the Drovichs. Supposedly a warrior class that had risen to prominence after the fall of Himmeria, they had steadily grown in power over the centuries until the Sbravani unified the divided giants. It was not too long until the Tsars of Sbrava soon came after the one remaining element that preceded their power: the Drovich. Steadily, their powers were restricted decree by decree, until they could take it no longer: as the Tsar laid waste to Allegro, an event which would cause the disintegration of their kingdom, the Drovich rose up in revolt, estabilishing their Confederacy, an assembly which they came to name as Veche.

Though not succesful in overthrowing the Tsar as they had hoped, the Drovich were not defeated; fleeing to the southwestern corners of the plains, they soon found allies in the shape of the human kingdoms of Sudamedia and the Lily Coast, who themselves feared the rise of Old Himmeria. Devoid of allies save for the Halfgiants of Johan, the expansion of the Sbravani was curbed, and they arrived at the borders they hold to this very day.

"Quite fearsome, these giants..." you say to yourself, having finally finished the section. Though the chapter still went on describing whatever else the authors knew of these giants, you figured you had had enough for now. You had received some letters, at last, and it would be wise of you to read them hastily.

>ROLL 1D100, THREE TIMES

File: Alessandro.png (4.04 MB, 1709x2157)

4.04 MB PNG

Also, unrelated to the update, I'd like to thank OlympusQM for making this pretty cool art of Alessandro for his review, which he posted in /qtg/

Don't necessarily take this as absolute canon, since glasses don't much well exist in such an advanced form during the current period of time of the quest, but I do want to show it nonetheless, as I liked it plenty.


>>6285609
>I guess there's no analogue to the old swiss confederacy?
Not in Straccia, I'm afraid.

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>6285655

Ere we go

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>6285655
Let's see how this goes then.

Rolled 12 (1d100)

>>6285655

Rolled 23 (1d100)

>>6285655

>>6285681
I guess those giants are marching to relieve the city then...

>>6285681
no :(

>>6285681
>>6285682
>>6285683
Christ these are dogshit rolls.

>>6285665
>>6285681
>>6285682
Your rolls certainly don't seem to be average this thread.

Entirely unrelated, but
>ROLL 1D3000, BEST OF THREE

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>6286177

>>6286178
1d3000, anon.

Rolled 2545 (1d3000)

>>6286177
Time to see if this funny name is the cause of disapproval.

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>6286178
>>6286179
Whoops. Let me redo my roll.

Rolled 839 (1d3000)

>>6286182
This is embarrassing.

Rolled 1295 (1d3000)

>>6286181
>>6286185
>>6286187
>2,545
Not bad! Writing.

File: Borgias Pope Alexander VI(...).jpg (580 KB, 2000x2750)

580 KB JPG

You begin to look over the letters you had received, eyeing the seals on them, when one catches your attention: it is the seal of the Galliota family, and there is but one other man currently alive who holds it: your brother! It had worried you that his letter had taken so long, but you supposed some such manner must have delayed its delivery. Nevertheless, you waste no time in taking it, cutting away the wax holding it sealed as you carefully fish out the parchment within.

To mine honoured brother and lord,

My apologies, my good brother, for the similar lateness with which this letter may arrive to you. The duties assigned to me in your stead are ever so difficult for one who hath not been used to their workload as you are. Your letter was received with much joy upon this household, most of all by mother, who was under no small deal of duress during your silence. It is good indeed to know that the splendour has provided to your safety, and it is my hope that you shall continue so.

To answer thine own questions, it is with pride that I tell you that Portblanc has continued so most peacefully. There is plentiful harvest from the spring in Segoma to supply us, and the business of merchants has ever been present. Their disputes, of course, are ever present; in order to deal with this matter, brother, your chancellor and I had seen it fit to bring back to full motion those sluggish lower courts, conferring upon the judges the power to deal with such minor issues as they should have.

I've also the happiness to tell you that your trade mission, brother, the one you had sent to the League of Bach, has returned at last, and done so most succesfully. I am told that they've returned with 6,545 Imperii. Having invested 3,500 in the effort, it is no small profit. Such gains shall, of course, await thee in our treasury, brother.

In mine own matters, things are of no great difference, save for one. Mine health continues as it always has, but it has not worsened, nor have I had any spots of aggravated frailty in these past months, which I thank the splendour for. My spirit, however, could not be higher, for one event I had never expected has taken place: I've been approached with an offer of an arrangement for marriage! Is it not unexpected, brother? The man in question, one Don Tallascas, is barón from the Imperial Territories. He has approached me with the offer to marry his eighth daughter should I provide him with a rather sizeable dowry. I've little doubt that this is anything but a move of desperation; perhaps the man has acquired a great deal of debt as I am told a great quantity of the courtiers in Mascaloma do, though through what manner he had come to learn of mine situation I know not.

Before i trouble thee with such thoughts, allow me to tell you that the matter of the money has been handled. Thanks to mine own inheritance from our departed father, as well as the allowance thou has granted me, I have more than sufficient wealth to cover the 4,000 Imperii that had been asked of me. You are still a bachelor, are you not, brother? It appears I shall be acquiring myself a wife before you yourself.

I await for thy answer soon, and pray for your safety always.

With mine enduring affection,
Don Jonatan Galliota, this 3rd of January, in the year of Our Splendour 1543

Well...that is unexpected, isn't it? In comparison, meeting a giant seems as such a little matter. Your brother, married? It cannot be underestated how heavily infermities such as that of your brother may impact their standing in society. According to the Holy Law of the Church, and the very will of the Splendour, one's body is a temple to their very soul. It is why orders of healers such as the Santo Cor hold so much importance: to heal cleanses not only the physical, but the spiritual as well. As such, to hold one of the Infermitats malèvoles, incurable ailments borne from birth, is none too different from holding a cursed brand upon their forehead. To risk passing such a curse to their children dissuased most from the idea of marrying their own children to one burdened by this.

It brightens your mood so to hear your brother has surpassed this great difficulty. That night, when you go to sleep, you do so most content, even as the clouds in the horizon grow ever darker...


>NO VOTE FOR NOW
>NEXT UPDATE IN THE USUAL TIME

File: IMG_4954.gif (3 MB, 568x480)

3 MB GIF

>>6286201
>losing the wife race to our crippled brother
We gotta get our game up.

>>6286201
Good forJonatan. And good for us, if he can manage to have a child, it'll give our royal house a legitimate heir, allowing us to concentrate on banging our maid

The eighth daughter of Don Tallascas, as it turns out? Joan.

>>6286400
Don't give the QM ideas, you devil

>>6286400
So that's why we got "good" news despite rolling a 1...

File: Claude Monet (French, 184(...).jpg (795 KB, 1600x1291)

795 KB JPG

You sleep that night soundly, though not without some introspection. Though your brother had been removed from the line of inheritance due to his ailment, any son of his born healthy enough to avoid a similar decree would, by virtue of being the grandchild of your father, the previous Viscount, a perfectly valid heir to the title. The House of Galliota would, should you be unable to bear a heir of your own, be secured. Though you certainly wish to have a son of your own, as any man in his right mind does, perhaps he need not be a 'valid heir', if that is the case?

But, it is far too early to think of such things. At least, that is what you think, as you finally doze off to slumber...

The sound of lighnting crashes upon your ears. Your eyes shot open from beneath the covers of your bed. Your first thoought is that it is still dark; none but the faint flame of the oil lamp hubg on a stand not too far from you. What you can only presume to be a torrential downpour crashes upon the roof of your tent with a deafening roar, as though you were right amidst an army of arquebusiers firing an endless barrage of shots. Throwing off the covers, you move to stand up, and immediately feel wetness upon your feet. It would seem that not even the barrier that had been placed around your tent was enough to keep off these Tilanese rains.

Hurrying to get up, yet still in your sleepwear, you begin to check your belongings, checking to see if any are at risk of being ruined by the rain. To your good fortune, however, it would seem your servants had the good sense of placing most of your goods in well-made wooden chests, but your books remained in your reading desk still. Left out, they might become filled with mold from the humid vapors from the rain. You quickly place them in your book chest. Breathing a sigh of relief, you take a seat in your bed, and begin to wait out the storm...

It takes far shorter than you expected; though you know not how long it is, in this foreign land without the tolling of church bells to tell you the time. Drying your feet with a cleaning cloth, you don your day clothes, and walk out of your tent, that you may see what damage this ghastly storm had wrought upon your camp. As you do so, one of your retinuemen, assigned to guard your camp, turns to you in surprise, approaching with a bow as he speaks.

"Your lordship, the Quartermaster has called for your presence in the command tent."

Provençal? If he has called for you, it must be an matter of duty. You nod to the man and go on to the command tent. As you enter, you find your quartermaster with a troubled look on his face. He turns to you.

"Milorde, It would appear that our preparations for the rain were insufficient. The storm was far stronger than anything we had anticipated. It has done quite some damage on the camp, but worst of all, it has damaged our supplies. The crates and abrrels they had been stored in were soaked into uselessness. The flour, the wheat, it is all inedible now. We have lost over three months worth of supplies. Only what had already been divided out amidst the soldiery remains. We should be fed through the rest of this month, but no longer."

- RESERVE DECREASED
- RESERVE DECREASED
- RESERVE DECREASED

"Damnation!" you curse, knowing how utterly bothersome such a loss is. You need not think deeply to know what a lack of food might bring.

"What options have we, Quartermaster?"

"I've thought of a few, sire."

CHOOSE YOUR OPTIONS (NO LIMIT)
>Ask Don Carles to handle the supplies (Will cost you in social standing)
>Arrange for your personal supply line by seat (Will cost money)
>Try to get your troops to acquire food from the wilderness, by fishing, hunting or gathering (Chance of failure)
>Begin rationing what you have to slow down your supply consumption (Will worsen the condition of the troops and make them displeased)

>>6286732
>by seat
By sea, fuck. I'm not posting it again a third time.

>>6286732
do we have any estimates on how much establishing a sea supply line might possibly cost?

>>6286752
That will depend on how you roll, but it will definitely not be below 1.5k Imperii per month.

>>6286732
>Arrange for your personal supply line by seat (Will cost money)
>Try to get your troops to acquire food from the wilderness, by fishing, hunting or gathering (Chance of failure)
>Begin rationing what you have to slow down your supply consumption (Will worsen the condition of the troops and make them displeased)
>Make a big show of reducing our own ration as well

>>6286764
+1

How far out do scavenging missions go currently? A few days and they bring back what a few carts can carry? I wonder if it would be possible to deploy all of our Calvary and take every possible transport we have and go out days in one direction to see if anything can be taken.

I know we’re trying to go for fair peaceful general but this constant spending of money is going to really get us put in a bad spot

>>6286732
>Try to get your troops to acquire food from the wilderness, by fishing, hunting or gathering (Chance of failure)
>Begin rationing what you have to slow down your supply consumption (Will worsen the condition of the troops and make them displeased)

>>6286773
>How far out do scavenging missions go currently?
As previously mentioned, your foraging missions go as far as they are capable. Any more and they would be consuming more supplies than they'd be able to get. Foraging is a complicated matter because the more wagons you add, the more animals you need to pull them, and the more animals, the higher your food consumption.

At this point in time, foraging 'villages' would be very difficult, as shown by the 'Very Poor' availability modifier.

>>6286732
>Ask Don Carles to handle the supplies (Will cost you in social standing)

Yes, it will cost us in standing, but we also successfully held the independent command he granted us and starving soldiers will definitely cost us in standing.

>>6286732
>Arrange for your personal supply line by seat (Will cost money)
Don Carles is taking care of our finances for now, so it should be okay.

>>6286732
>Ask Don Carles to handle the supplies (Will cost you in social standing)
We'll find some way to return the favor. You know, if he isn't already appreciative of us enabling the landing in the first place. I think we've been pretty pivotal so far, frankly.
>>Try to get your troops to acquire food from the wilderness, by fishing, hunting or gathering (Chance of failure)
It's worth a shot, not like we're rolling the bones on losing half our foot regiment.

As far as the other options go I think we definitely want to save money where we can, especially since food availability is at such a premium and will definitely be more expensive than normal, and pissing off our troops during a siege when a significant portion are mercenaries sounds like the prelude to an episode of Renaissance Jackass.

>>6286764
>>6286770
I'm going to go ahead and lock this plan as the victor.
>ROLL 1D100, AVERAGE OF THREE

Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>6287213

Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>6287213

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>6287213

>>6287218
>>6287219
>>6287231
>43
Not the best, but not the worst, writing.

File: Montechia, Late February.png (5.77 MB, 10000x7695)

5.77 MB PNG

Though you dislike the thought of going through such lengths, it is better to be sure than to undergo the pains of hunger. Your first order is to immediately begin the strict rationing of foods: though soldiers already did, in a way, undergo 'rations' by virtue of having access only to what they were given or what they could buy, you will begin reducing and spreading out these rations.

Your edict is met, expectedly, with great anger, no less by your noblemen, who in such a distant, isolated land, cannot simply use their wealth to buy better rations. Your attempts to placate them by ensuring that your own personal stock is divided out amidst the soldiery does not quiet the grumbling, but it does seem to lessen what amount of it is aimed upon you. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you are forced to chew upon salty strips of meat and the most disgusting bread you have ever eaten. Is this truly what the soldiery eats every day?

+ RESERVE MAINTAINED

Your second order is to have the men go out and harvest from the wilderness. As the lord of a coastal fief, some of your troops have some manner of experience with fishing: you send them out to gather from the sea with tools 'taken' from the fishing village. Your noblemen and cavalry are sent out to hunt; you imagine this will certainly distract their anger, at the least. Finally, you also send your men out to gather whatever they can from the wilderness: being summer at it is, there is bound to be some fruits and berries.

The results are...not the worst, to say the least. Though nowhere even close to being able to feed your army on their lonesome, what is brought is put to well use diversiying their diet, or being traded with men of the other armies for more rations.

+ STATUS MAINTAINED

At last, you also get to work on putting your best of skills to work: commerce. Talking with the traders who had been contracted out to deliver supplies to the army, you find out any amidst them who still yet held more ships to spare for this 'route', or knew those who could. After some talking, you are able to find an Avonnese merchant who knew a friend of his capable of carrying out the route, and all for the fee of 2,150 Spadas per month, or 2,015 Imperii.

This, of course, is nothing short of absurd, and had you been another lord, you might have had the man whipped for such insolence when talking to one of the Grands of the Empire. You, however, were no old aristocrat, but one of the modern age, who knew the workings of commerce, and the man was well capable of asking for such prices when your desperation was such. Perhaps if you had made connections with Straccian traders, you might have been able to get a better deal.
And so, you close the deal, and for the moment, your food supply is secured.

Provençal tells you that thanks to the Timber Road (which has at las, finished) it shall be far easier to ensure the safety of the wagons.

Time continues to pass, and the end of february is fast approaching: the tunnels have seemingly made enough progress in the west to finally reach the foot of the hill, but your liege continues to say little of what his plans are. Though you do not doubt him, You feel as though this siege will continue to drag on unless you are able to find something to aid in the effort. But what exactly could that be?

CHOOSE YOUR OPTION: BONUS OPPORTUNITY
>Write-in (Good enough ideas might considerably advance the progress of the siege)
>Trust your liege's plan and do nothing

>>6287265
I have only two ideas
>Send a team of picked men to sabotage the mechanism that is refilling the moat and drain the water
or
>Build a trebuchet to fling feces into the city in an attempt to start an epidemic

>>6287298
>Build a Trebuchet
What is this, 1353?

>>6287302
You can't effectively shoot feces out of a cannon (to my knowledge)

>>6287307
Anon, cities at that time had plenty of feces already. You're confusing it with the time the Mongols threw plague victims over a wall. We do not have access to plague victims.