Tilea IC2401 (Campaign#8)

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It saves me a ridiculous amount of time! I felt like I was doing everything twice, as I had to do the text with Imgur limy links, then repeat the the process re-doing the text with my own website links. I was letting the process slide while I got on with videos and new stories and painting etc. Bat Rep soon, just need to put the latest video to bed. (If that's the right phrase???)
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Now, above prequel continued

“Might just be these on the move, while the rest continue their plundering,” he suggested. “And who’s to say they’re going to Eclano. Perhaps they’re just looking for the next villa to loot?”

“Maybe,” said Tino, slowly pushed a branch out of the way that he might see a little better. “They’ve a banner at their fore.” he whispered. “And, there’s another company following them.”

Filippo saw that they were not just men – there was a hulking orc among their ranks. As for the rest, some looked like Tileans or northerners, while others appeared to be Estalian or Arabyan. They were clearly making haste, marching faster than even light foot would normally be expected to. His companion had obviously noticed this fact too.

“If they’re looking for somewhere else to loot,” Tino said. “Then they’re in a rush to find it.”

Filippo was beginning to doubt they were simply scouting about for further opportunities. As they moved quickly by, another equally fast-paced company hove into view, of a similar composition but smaller in number and armed with blunderbusses.

They too had a large orc in their midst, striding in a somewhat ungainly manner due to his thick peg of a wooden leg, and bearing a blunderbuss that rivalled a swivel gun in size. More than that, there were smaller orcs, goblins and even a dwarf among them.

“Orcs and dwarfs!” said Filippo.

“Aye,” agreed Tino. “And men. All wrong ‘uns.”

“I mean,” said Filippo, “serving together, in the same company. I didn’t think that was possible.”

“That’s the least of their transgressions.”

“Wait,” said Filippo. “Now there’s another company! I think they are on the march.”

“Do they know about the garrison army’s march? Is the one of the jaws of a trap?” enquired Tino.

“Seems likely. We’ll know for certain as we ride to Eclano, for they’ll either follow us or not.”

Tino moved his branch again.

“This lot are all dwarfs!” he said. “Look at ‘em, fair bristling with blades and barrels.”

“Stop moving that branch will you,” ordered Filippo. “What’s the point of keeping to the shadows if make a tree wave at them?”

Tino was not really listening.

“I’ve heard of their kind,” he said. “Sea slayers, afeared of nothing. They’d hurl themselves into a kracken’s maw if it meant their blades could cut its flesh.”

The dwarfs were carrying a golden death’s head icon, like that of an orc’s skull, with crossed bones to bulk it up. Nearly all, to dwarf, were red-haired and bearded, if not bald.

“There’s more ‘n more – another company behind this lot! Should we be counting them?”

Filippo let out a groan. “What do you think I’m doing? Contemplating whether they follow the fashion?”

A green coated captain of a northern countenance led the next band. While Filippo strained to get a look at the company following behind, Tino pulled upon the branch again. The captain halted, then suddenly spun about to begin shouting at those behind him, while pointing at the trees concealing the riders.

“You bloody fool!” cursed Fillipo. “He’s seen us!”

“I wouldn’t worry, sergeant. We have horses and I know every path.”

Filippo could see what this band were armed with now.

“It’s their guns I’m worried about,” he said.

Several Sartosans were already taking aim.

As the first shots rang out, the riders turned to flee.

Filippo saw a branch splinter close by as a bullet tore into it, then heard Tino curse. But he knew any further shots would be wasted. Ducking low, so as not to be knocked from his saddle, he began thinking about who he would send ahead to warn Lord Nero, and who he would keep with him to count the rest of the enemy.

 

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Tilea's Troubles, Part 68 is uploaded. Glammerscale Hamgorn, the dwarf wizard, continues his efforts to find a place in the world!

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Again, for those following the 'present day' end of the campaign, here's a link to the start of a new battle report ...

The Battle for Eclano

The Realm of Portomaggiore. The end of autumn, IC2404 The Villa Bruscatta was neatly laid out. It had an ancient, sturdy temple, possessing chapel-alcoves dedicated to Morr, Myrmidia and Mercopia, …

bigsmallworlds.com

 

[Eric]

I always enjoy reading your campaign reports (such great photos).

FWIW you should be able to just copy and paste from your blog post into a post on the thread and it should link the images and so forth automagically, although it might need some format tweaking after that.

 

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Oh! Gonna try that now ...

The Battle for Eclano

The Realm of Portomaggiore. The end of autumn, IC2404

The Villa Bruscatta was neatly laid out. It had an ancient, sturdy temple, possessing chapel-alcoves dedicated to Morr, Myrmidia and Mercopia, and minor altars for several other gods of note, while the house was a more modern affair. Both were incorporated into a walled yard, beside which was a well-tended orchard. Laying in a wide valley in the Savuolo Hills, to the east of the ancient road running south of Portomaggiore, it was normally a very haven of peace. Today was to prove an exception.

A substantial force of Sartosan pirates, a detached part of Admiral Volker’s invading army commanded by the sorcerer Adus Arcabar, had begun ravaging the entire region of Eclano, and was closing on the villa to increase its haul of loot. As they drew within sight of the villa, an advance party from the other half of the army arrived, being Captain Kardreath Leadforge’s Sea Slayers, a dwarven crew who had continued to march in the darkest hours of the night while the rest of Volker’s force rested. Leadforge reported that the Portomaggioran city garrison was closing in on the villa too. But not to worry, he added, as Admiral Volker was also on his way and should be there soon.

Ah, but will it be soon enough? thought Arcabur.

Still, it could prove ruinous to attempt a retreat, for then the enemy might gain the initiative, able to pick them off piecemeal as they withdrew. Besides, the Admiral, whom Arcabar considered a good friend, was not a man he wanted to disappoint, and so he ordered his force to array in line of battle as they closed in on the villa. They would see if they could keep the enemy busy long enough for Volker to arrive.

He himself joined Captain Garique’s crew, a body of handgunners, on the right of the line nearest to the villa.

Another smaller company of handgunners stood to their immediate left, being part of Captain Van Baas’s crew, while the newly arrived dwarfs were beyond, with Captain Van Baas’s crew on the battle-line’s far flank.

Captain Leadforge led the cheering from his regiment, while Van Baas brooded in his usual manner, employing his hook-hand to give rest to his cutlass blade.

The Sartosan artillery pieces, big and small, were placed to the far left of the line, with the sakers higher than the swivels.

These were entirely unprotected, perhaps because the Sartosans presumed that anything attempting to close on them would be torn to pieces by the sheer weight of firepower they could bring to bear? And yet, a body of enemy light horse was indeed riding upon that flank …

… and boldly crested a hill to stare right at the serried muzzles.

Upon the enemy’s other flank there were more pistoliers – two companies – beside a ribaudequin with brass barrels.

These too now promptly advanced – more cautiously than their counterparts on the far left of their line – riding through the orchard and thus concealing their movement.

This pincer-movement of light horse seemed to prove that the Portomaggiorans had come here to fight. The force massed in the centre of the Portomaggioran’ line was clearly intended to be a defensive garrison, for the vast majority were missile troops, with a large regiment of Sea Guard handgunners, a body of mercenary dwarven crossbows and the local Eclanian militia crossbowmen, the latter mustered under an impressive Portomaggioran standard bearing a Falconi emblem (revealing that much of Eclano was Lord Alessio’s family estates).

The main fighting regiment was beside the handgunners, being the Sea Guard swordsmen, an elite body under the command of Lord Nero Acciaio, military governor of the city state in Lord Alessio’s absence. One of the garrison’s two wizards was also among their ranks, the other having joined the handgunners.

Even more crossbowmen had taken position on the higher ground to the right of their line, ordered to keep an eye out for the enemy relief force known to be marching from Scalea.

Behind these was the garrison’s second fighting regiment, the mercenary dwarfs under Girseak Irongrim, being mostly his own clan warriors. And behind them were four brutes carrying cannons, or ‘leadbelchers’ as they called themselves, these having the potential to be most destructive both when shooting and when fighting.

Continued (20 image limit) ...

 

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While the Sartosans in the main line shuffled a little to better align themselves to the foe, with Captain Garique’s personally commanded handgunners wheeling about …

… to get a better line of sight on whatever was disturbing the trees of the orchard …

… the swivel gunners turned their attention upon the little company of horse up ahead …

… bringing two of them down. The survivors were not dismayed by their comrades’ demise and continued their ride.

Arcabar intended, now he could se what was moving through the trees, to conjure a fireball at the pistoliers in the orchard …

… but his efforts were thwarted by the enemy’s wizards, who unwound the etheric vapours he was coiling to form a fiery flash.

The three cannons all targeted the main dwarf regiment, two employing chain-shot, but only one was to prove successful, killing five.

Irongrim’s warriors were battle hardened veterans however, and despite not one being unspattered by blood, they began their advance, the ogres following behind, matching the dwarfs’ slow pace.

The last of the pistoliers on that flank, keen both to avoid further harm and to contribute to the struggle, rode quickly to the close flank of enemy’s artillery …

… but perhaps due to being somewhat shaken, their shots all missed.

On the other flank, the Harbour Guard swordsmen marched up beside the chapel …

… while the wizard with them attempted to summon a magical burning gaze on Garique’s handgunners.

Arcabar sensed the impending danger and used his precious scroll to dispel the attack. The wizard with the Sea Guard handgunners, however, had also conjured fire magic …

… hurling a fireball at the smallest of the two enemy handgunner companies. This killed more the half of them. Despite this harm, those remaining stayed put.

While the crossbowmen on the hill managed to bring down one of the swivel gunners, two of the ogres could aim their muzzles at Van Baas’s regiment. Their blast killed two, then the dwarfs put down another three and the Eclanian standing force crossbows added another casualty. Van Baas and his men barely flinched. The grey coated captain simply stared intently at the foe, as if he knew something they did not.

(End of Turn 1)

 

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It worked! Now, back to insert the prequel in the earlier post!

 

[symphonicpoet]

^Copy pasta? It's certainly nice to see all the pictures here, but don't make it too much work on yourself. Happy to read them on your blog as well. Either way, it's wonderful stuff! Inspiring, even.

 

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It's nothing like the work it used to be. Previously I had to put all the pictures on Imgur and then swap them all out to post on forums. Mostly I did the forum versions first, then later had to re-do all the picture placings for my own website! I was really surprised to see it work here. Technology moves ever on!

 

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The Battle of Eclano Continued ...


It was then that Volker and his large relief force began to arrive. Their sudden appearance, so soon in the struggle, made it immediately obvious that the Portomaggiorans were very unlikely to prevail, being both outflanked and vastly outnumbered (despite the fact that the admiral had left several regiments and hissecond wizard at Scalea to continue its plunder). It was not entirely impossible that Lord Alessio might appear with his own army, returning from the ‘holy war’ against the vampires in the north, for he had a reputation one of the best generals in Tilea, with many victories under his belt. But everyone, on both sides, knew this was unlikely, for he was reported to be many, many leagues from home. For reasons known only to himself, he had not embarked his force, or even a portion of it, onto ships in Remas to make the last part of the journey home by sea (as many in the city expected), but had taken the longer route over land.

Admiral Volker himself led the largest regiment (the goblins having lost much of their number during the squabbling in Scalea), consisting of his own crew.

His trusted navigator, Ubaida el-Noor was by his side in the front rank, making quite a contrast, what with the admiral in a black coat, hat and dull green waistcoat, while the arabyan wore blue, yellow, red, green and grey!

Topping the rise on their left flank, and matching their advance, came the newest reinforcements in the Sartosan fleet – the ogre Captain Kroll’s crew of axemen.

Kroll’s pet parrot, a giant amongst its kind, as befitted such a hulk as he, flapped down a few yards ahead, while he himself surveyed the enemy to decide what exactly to do.

A moment later these two regimented crews were joined to their right by the rest of the force.

Close enough to Volker that he could smell them, came the sand trolls, each of whom, were it not for the bent and bowed nature of their spindly limbs, would have stood taller than Kroll.

Beside them came the rest of Volker’s crew, a large company armed with blunderbusses. Out on the far right of the relief force advanced Captain Fark’s goblins, ordered to that position by Volker, who wanted to avoid any further outbreak of greenskin squabbling hindering his victory today.

Losing no time, the Sartosans moved on, the trolls outstripping the rest to close on the dwarfs, while Kroll’s axe-weilding warriors came very close to the crossbow regiment’s flank.

Captain Fark, however, ordered his regimented crew of greenskins to turn to face the three pistoliers …

… which might seem a waste of his crew’s fighting strength, but he had been looking for every chance to prove he really could shoot his pistol well since fighting the Luccinans ten months before, and had got it into his head that with a well-placed shot he might dispatch not one but two of the riders.

As he brought the enchanted pistol to bear, delaying just enough to shout out “Watch dis, lads!” once again, he was dismayed to see the swivel gunners blast and kill all three riders befoe he could even pull the trigger. Behind him a goblin laughed, so he turned and shot him instead!

 

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Volker’s force advanced …

… while the sorcerer Adus Arcabar hurled a fireball at the pistoliers in the orchard, which was again dispelled by the enemy’s magic users.

In fury, he instead wove a magically flaming cage around the riders, killing two, then two more when the survivors attempted to flee through the flames. Moments later there were explosions as the flames heated the riders’ powder flasks! This pleased the old wizard, but he cared not if anyone had noticed.

Taking a chance before their line of sight might be obscured, the two sakers that were able to fire (the crew of the third struggling to make it ready after a misfire) took aim on the dwarfs.

Their chain shots tore four dwarfs apart, then felled one of the brute ogres behind. The dwarfs, however, no doubt unwilling to perish before they caused some harm to the foe, charged the trolls.

Volker watched with fascination, having never seen two such opponents embroiled together.

Even Kroll found himself momentarily distracted by the sight!

Out in the centre of the field, the Sartosan dwarfs and Van Baas’s crew now saw where things were going, as they watched the enemy’s large regiment of elite swordsmen face about and begin marching away.

They were unsurprised to see that the enemy’s missile troops did no do the same – presumably they were to linger a little longer, to wreak some harm from a distance before departing themselves. Perhaps dismayed at the thought that the battle was already lost, the Portomaggiorans magic users failed to conjure any successful spells, although it could not have helped that one of them had his back turned as he left with the Sea Guard.

The ogre leadbelchers …

… joined with the dwarven crossbows, the Eclanian crossbows and the handgunners to pour a veritable storm of lead and bolts into Van Baas’s crew, killing ten of them.

While somewhat concealed by the walls and buildings of the villa, the last company of pistoliers, who had been making heavy work of crossing into the yard, began to file away from the field. The crew of the organ gun up were also dragging their burden away, giving thanks to Myrmidia that the pirates could not see them.

The Portomaggioran crossbowmen on the far right, somewhat desperately considering how close Kroll and his crew were, loosed their bolts to kill five of Volker’s men massed down below.

Then they were surprised to see Irongrim’s dwarfs cut down one of the trolls, wound another …

… and break them. When the trolls lumbered away, the dwarfs hurtled forwards into Admiral Volker’s regiment.

So it was, and somewhat unexpectedly, Volker found himself in personal combat with Thane Girseak Irongrim, the two quickly drawing blood from each other as the warriors around them hacked and hewed with swords and cutlasses.

End of turn 2

 

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And ... before the next bat rep installment ...

In a world where evil magic is real, fear makes people do terrible things. Part 69 of Tilea's Troubles is up.

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[symphonicpoet]

^That was rather a depressing one. Well told, but painful nonetheless. Well done sir.

 

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Next video is the prequel to a big bat rep. Mind you, the prequel itself is 'big' too!

 

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THE BATTLE FOR ECLANO, CONCLUSION​

Unwilling to miss out on the slaughter, Captain Kroll shouted, “Right lads! Let’s get ‘em!” And led his axemen into the flank of the desperately isolated crossbowmen on the hill.

The fight was short and bloody, so much that it was over before Kroll even felt it had begin. It was observed from a distance by the goblins, who had turned around to see how the real battle was faring.

As the last of the crossbowmen was cut down, Kroll and his crew found themselves at the crest of the hill, looking down on the enemy’s ogres down below.

Kroll, though he did not show any sign of it to his men, felt disgust, even embarrassment, that fellow ogres would demean themselves so much as to serve as mercenaries for a human lord, receiving pay and eating salted beef instead of taking plunder and eating raw and bloody flesh.

As the last of the sand trolls left the battlefield (by the time they halted they had forgotten they had been fighting) Volker’s blunderbuss company had also noticed the leadbelchers, but despite the urge to do so, neither they nor Van Baas’s dwindling regiment managed to charge the brutes.

The sakers targeted the ogres with their chain shot, both overshooting, and one reaching the dwarf crossbows behind to kill two. Meanwhile, Admiral Volker remained locked in combat with the mercenary Lord Girseack Irongrim, finding out just how difficult it could be to find a chink in dwarven armour! He was thankful of his own protection, in the form of a magical talisman he always carried with him, for there was a moment when without its charming influence he was sure he would have been grievously injured, if not killed. The pirates and warriors around these two fared little better, and despite the Sartosans’ greater numbers, the dwarfs stood their ground.

Deciding that Kroll and his crew were the greater danger, the leadbelchers turned to present the muzzles of their pieces at them.

Kroll let out a laugh, for he was not scared of their carried cannons, and although many of his crew would undoubtedly perish should they charge, nevertheless he fully intended to do so.

Upon the other side of the field of battle, the Harbour Guard handgunners joined the swordsmen in moving back towards the city, although the wizard with them stepped away intending some more mischief before he too retired.

The last surviving company of pistoliers, concealed by the yard and the church, where also in the process of exiting the battlefield, as were the crew of the organ gun up ahead.

But the crossbowmen in the middle of the field, both the local standing force and the mercenary dwarfs, lingered, slaying another six of Captain Van Baas’s crew. The captain was beginning to lose his patience, for his crew’s role in the battle had so far to have been a magnet for missiles, which meant there were hardly any left standing!

“Captain,” shouted his bosun, Moukib Brahimi. “Let’s get to fighting before there’s none of us left, eh?”

“Aye!” said Van Baas, pointing at the leadbelchers who had just turned their back on him. “Let’s start with them.”

With that, at last, his surviving crew began moving at a pace forwards.
As the leadbelchers fired a blast at Kroll’s crew, much of which buried itself in the grassy slope leading up to them, Volker noticed the dwarven lord seemed to be tiring.

Using an unnaturally precise lash from his enchanted whip as a distraction, coiling the thane’s arm and yanking it aside, he swung his cutlass deftly between Irongrim’s helmet and gorget, cutting his head clean off! With two more their own also killed, even the stout hearted dwarfs lost the will to fight, and so turned to flee. They were cut down by their longer-legged pursuers, however, and Volker and his crew found themselves in combat with the ogres!

So thwarted in his intention to take on the ogres himself, Kroll surveyed the ground below the hill-top and decided he would break off from his crew and take on the dwarven crossbows by himself.

But he stumbled a little as he descended down the slippery grass of the slope towards them, which gave the dwarfs time to flee away out of his reach, streaming through the militia crossbowmen and out the other side.

 

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Kroll cursed, as it seemed he was not going to get to grips properly with any enemy of note at all that day.

The Portomaggioran ogres had quite the opposite problem, for now Captain Van Baas led his crew in a charge against their rear, while Volker’s blunderbuss company came in on their flank, s0 that they were surrounded by attackers on three sides!

The wizard Arcabar saw his chance of harming the foe slipping out of his grasp, and thus somewhat foolishly attempted hastily to conjure a magical flame cage about the enemy’s harbour guard swordsmen.

Too hastily, for although the spell was brought into being, killing two of the enemy, he allowed the etheric energies to swirl beyond his control, causing an explosion of etheric heat to burst from him, sclding his arm and killing four of the handgunners with him (torn apart by a combination of the magical heat and the explosions of their powder flasks and pieces)!

Captain Fark commanded his goblins to shift over so that the gunners could sight the foe better …

… allowing the swivels to so severely maul the militia crossbowmen that they broke and fled away. Kroll cursed again. Would no-one stand their ground against him? Then he laughed as he saw a chainshot kill no less than seven of the fleeing dwarfs, leaving but one lone survivor reeling in confusion! He laughed even louder when another shot, this time plain old roundshot, took the enemy wizards’ head clean off!

Now came a moment that all who witnessed would remember for the rest of their days.

Admiral Volker, his blood well and truly up, lashed so cruelly with his enchanted cat o’ nine tails, that he killed two of the enemy ogres before anyone else could land a blow. Stunned himself at what he had achieved, he stood panting with exhaustion as the rest of the pirates hacked the last ogre down brutally and quickly.

And so ended the fighting at Eclano. Lord Nero led the last of his garrison force away, shouting orders for all to make haste, back to the safety of the city walls, with the organ gun and last few pistoliers in tow, leaving Eclano to be plundered by the celebratory Sartosans.

And the tales most often recounted during the drunken revels of the next few days was that of Admiral Volker’s whip: pinning a dwarven lord’s arm to allow the removel of his head, then so viciously slicing the leathery flesh of the enemy brutes that not one but two fell dead to its attentions! It was close to the time that the Sartosan fleet voted regarding whether to have a new admiral, but what with these stories and the glut of loot taken from Eclano and Scalea, it seemed the outcome was certain. Admiral Volker was becomind a legend in his own lifetime!

In this hour of need in Portomaggiore, where was Lord Alessio? It seemed that the VMC commander, General Valckenburgh, was not the only defender of a realm to have been absent when the pirates came. Or perhaps, more accurately, that Admiral Volker was a proven expert at targeting his cruel raids just when a realm was at its weakest – itself another reason that he should be re-elected as the fleet’s commander.

 

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The Blessed Knights

An Excerpt from Bonacorso Fidelibus’s Work: The Many Wars of the Early 25th Century

Autumn, 2404

Early in the season the Sartosan pirates returned to their island haven, there to rest, repair, refit and recruit. Although one might think the pirates fully sated from their plundering of Alcente, their greed knew no bounds, and so Admiral Volker promised great riches to come, hoping thus to retain his command of the fleet. He was happy to receive news that the ransom for their prisoner, King Ferronso of Luccini, had been agreed and already part paid. Look, he said to his captains, the gold flows in even without the need to fight! Still, he was keen to ensure his captains had not the slightest reason to doubt his suitability, and so he raised the biggest force he had ever commanded, adding the infamous ogre Captain Kroll and his crew, and declared they would raid the richest realm on the coast of Tilea, Portomaggiore. He even claimed the fighting would be easy, as Lord Alessio had foolishly marched his realm’s army away to fight in the war against the vampires in the far north.

Lord Alessio Falconi was indeed many leagues from home and, due to the need to transport the magical colossus, was travelling much slower than others might. As his army, accompanied by the soldiers of the VMC who had fought with him at Miragliano, were crossing the bridge of Pontremola, he learned that Captain Mazallini’s mercenary company, the Compagnia del Sole, were a little way ahead (having fled from Campogrotta where the uomini ratto’s terror weapon had poisoned the land, including a swathe of the Tettoverde forest). Apparently, the mercenaries had already met with the Reman force outstripping the Portomaggiorans and VMC on the march southwards, and due to the difficulties presented by the need to forage for supplies in a barren land, there had been a bloody disagreement between them!

Despite the battered nature of all these armies, even open skirmishes between them, one of the VMC officers, Colonel Van Hal (commander of the ‘Meagre Company’) mentioned to the Portomaggioran Lord Marcus Portelli how potentially fortunate it was, just as a new force of uomini ratto were threatening Tilea, that the three battered armies now returning home (the Portomaggiorans, Remans and army of the VMC), should meet with the remnant of the once mighty Compagnia del Sole. For it had occurred to Van Hal that should these forces join, they could form by far largest army assembled in Tilea for over a century, sufficient perhaps to nip the surgent ratmen threat in the bud.

Alessio, an astute and able commander, could not help but ponder this notion, and (despite his need to return home to protect his realm from the Sartosan raiders, who had already ravaged the VMC controlled realm of Alcente) made enquiries of the other commanders concerning this fortuitous turn of events. Yet the VMC generalissima, Luccia La Fanciulla, regretfully answered that despite wanting very much to help, she had orders from her master to return south as soon as possible. And the Reman commander, a stubborn dwarf still smarting from the drowning of Captain Soldotovya and the dwarven warriors in the stinking waters of Miragliano, wanted nothing to do with the idea, saying he took orders only from the Reman arch-lector. Besides, he swore he would never serve in a force containing the Compagnia del Sole. Consequently, despite Captain Mazallini’s stated willingness (provided nothing was done contrary the dwarven King Jaldeog’s wishes) Lord Alessio gave up on the idea and continued his journey home.

Passing Remas he chose not to hire a fleet and travel the rest of the way by sea, again (perhaps) because of his urge to ensure the colossus was not lost, but this decision was one he was soon to regret, for in the last weeks of Autumn the Sartosans landed at Scalea, divided into two (still large) forces and set about thoroughly razing both Scalea and Eclano. The commander of the garrison army of the city of Portomaggiore, Lord Nero Accaiao, attempted to thwart them, but had insufficient forces for the task, and was forced to retreat back to the safety of the city walls having lost several regiments, including his dwarven mercenaries and their brave commander, Lord Girseak Irongrim. Thus it was, as winter began, the Sartosans’ mountain of plunder was so high that the vote regarding command or the fleet was won by Admiral Volker unanimously and loudly.

The realm of Portomaggiore was large enough that the loss of Scalea and Eclano was not a crippling blow, and the walled city itself contained not just the substantial remnant of the garrison army, but also a large standing force of militia soldiers (who had refused to march out of their home to assist at Eclano). And Lord Alessio was on his way home. And there was seasonal income and banked gold aplenty at Lord Nero’s disposal. Portomaggiore might be battered and bruised, but only in the way a dragon might be after its tail was bloodied, so that it remained very dangerous. What happened next depended on how bold Volker felt, how far away Lord Alessio was and whether the militia would act more bravely when it came to defending the walls of their home.

In the north-east, the mysterious elven denizens of Tettoverde Forest spied upon the uomini ratto in Campogrotta, and there were reports that an elven emissary had spoken to King Jaldeog of Karak Borgo, presumably to broker some sort of alliance between the two realms against. By the end of Autumn, it appeared that the ratmen army had left the city to disappear into their subterranean passages. Considering all the rumours and reports concerning the extent of these ancient underpasses and tunnels, many in Tilea became concerned.

…

Interlude: Fizzle-Crackle

Somewhere in Tilea

The new engine, which Gradger had seen fully assembled for the first time only the day before, was an unusual contraption, the like of which he had never previously encountered. He recognised several component parts, but their configuration and connections were strange. He struggled to see how it might be used as a weapon, despite the fact it bore several shards of sky-stone and vented the occasional fizzle-crackle.

Unlike several of the army’s war engines propelled by warpstone-heated steam, or the terror-bombard pushed by a modified steam-wheel, this relied on a more primitive power-source – several wretched slaves, encouraged in their endeavours by a lash wielding overseer. This was not what made it unique, however. It was everything else about it.

His friend, Farrgrin, meanwhile, was concerned about the proximity of the man-thing village. Gradger had attempted to assure him that it was entirely abandoned, most likely during the recent wars that wracked this part of the world.

“Good and better,” said Farrgrin. “For if the man-things have been fighting wars, then their armies are damaged-diminished, their strength sapped. But, see and know, Gradger, their houses have cellar-pits and roof-attics and other places to hide. Can you know for certain-sure all these were search-inspected?”

“Worry not. If there is someone lurk-hiding within, then why should we concern ourselves?” reassured Gradger, his voice as ever muffled by his mask. “While they skulk and scrabble in the small, dark places, then what can they do to us?”

“They might sneak out in the dark-night and go off to advertise our presence to all and sundry.”

Gradger shrugged his shoulders as if nothing could be done.

The chief engineer, who had ridden the engine earlier but was now walking by its side, was chatter-shouting commands up to the crew upon its platforms, apparently pointing out a course correction.

“Where is he taking us?” asked Farrgrin.

“For the present and now, he goes wheresoever the seer-lord command-orders, but when the time is right and good, the engine help show us the way, not its master. He will merely impart its understanding to the chieftain-commanders and Lord Urlak. Look see, Gradge, the engine is binnacle and compass, the engineer but the helm-tiller.”

“Then why and for what reason does he carry a perspective glass, if it is not he who should and must find the way?”

“That he might spy-see what lies ahead. The engine might suggest a route to travel, but I doubt it can know if a mountain rises, a river courses or a chasm lies in its path,” explained Gradger, despite being altogether uncertain about what the engine revealed.

“That may well be true, I understand and admit, but the machine is now assemble-constructed, its spokes turn-spinning and the master a-pointing and commanding. If we are going where Lord Urlak commands, then why is all that such and so?”

In truth Farrgrin’s discombobulation regarding the engine arose from the fact that he had become used to being the one who discovered such secrets, what with his message carrying and delivering, and the chance to hear the words of the senders and receivers of said messages. This time he had learned nothing, and so was forced to rely on his Gradger’s engineering knowledge. This made him feel considerably less important.

“The master and his mates must learn-practise,” said Gradger. “They must study the engine’s language, fathom its mysteries, comprehend its quirks, and master its movements both major and minute. If the engine speaks with a stutter, they need to know how to compensate. If it sometimes overspins, carried too far by the sheer speed of its revolutions, they must correct. Then when the time is right and needs must, their efforts will prove both acceptable and worthwhile.”

“And how do you know so much, when none and no others do, except the master and his crew?”

“I have been giving it much thought-consideration. Remember, friend Farrgrin, I am no mere ‘prentice scullion when it comes to engines.”

He had indeed spent much of the previous night pondering the engine’s purpose and how exactly it worked. Its uppermost assembly seemed to key to its function. A foremast-like shaft, itself reinforced with an iron shell, acted as the axle for a hub from which spokes projected, holding not the rim of a wheel but three exactly similar shards of sky-stone and an iron casting in the likeness of a lightning bolt.

Continued ...

 

[Padre]

The shards were not the purest quality, but they had been carved (a process which undoubtedly cost the lives of several labourers) to match each other in shape, size and presumably weight. At first, the lightning bolt made him think the engine was most likely a weapon, and indeed there was a fourth shard attached to a topgallant mast at the head of the axle, beside which an ether-coagulator was mounted rather like that found on the most common kind of warp-lightning cannon. But the iron pointer was merely a solid casting attached to a fourth, iron spoke, and thus very unlikely to channel a sufficiently controlled fulmination of warp energy to form a satisfactorily ranged bolt.

Perhaps this engine was more like a drill, or a saw, or a hammer? But these possibilities made little sense either, for nothing else about its form lent itself to such purposes. He had seen one of the engines that drills the exit tunnels from the underpasses, and if they were an iron chisel, then this flimsy contraption was a feather pen. It was not inconceivable that a well-placed hammer blow might shatter the entire engine. Besides the iron bolt was not connected in any way to the coagulator, neither by pipe, cable nor wire, and so, surely, it could only be what it appeared to be – a pointer!

Once he had a chance to observe the crew tending the fully operational engine that morning, now that they were not merely hauling the semi-dismantled engine as a clumsy burden through underpass, he could watch exactly what they were doing. He quickly perceived that they paid great attention to the subtle spinning of the shards and pointer, sometimes quick, other times slow; most often smooth but occasionally with a sudden juddering jerk, and it was obvious they were somehow reading its motions. But why they did so evaded him. Did it indicate the proximity of enemies, or allies? Could it reveal the approach of foul weather or the winds of magic? Did it show which direction a particular target lay? Or give warning the most dangerous or magical of foes?

He could not know. But it was obviously attuned to something, and clearly indicated a direction.

What really marked out this engine from all others he had seen was the pitiful prisoner, encaged in iron, hanging from its side.

This poor wretch, reduced to nothing more than flesh and bone (the latter quite visible through what little remained of the former) also had an ether-coagulator directed at him, and so perchance was a magic user of some kind, or in some way either powerfully blessed or cursed? But what could he possibly contribute to the workings of the engine? Was he as irrelevant as a mascot, or some sort of lucky charm? Or was whatever essence being drained from him crucial to the engine’s operation?

Having noticed Farrgrin’s repeated glances in the direction of the village, Gradger broke the silence, saying,

“I have been consider-thinking, and it seems to me that Seer Lord Urlak will want the manthings to know we are near and close. Urlak can use a terror weapon like the bombard but once to melt a city or annihilate an army, or instead he can more profitably employ it time and time again to scare-terrify the foe into retreat, or surrender, or convince them to pay a ransom so that they might live. If so, then the enemy needs to know the bombard is here.

Farrgrin hissed as if his friend had insulted him.

“What ails you and why?” asked Gradger.

“You told me that the bombard could not possibly work, yet here and now you call it terror weapon.”

“I can and do, for all and sundry know what the last of its kind did. It was a lesson to be learned by all our enemy-foes.”

“But you said everything and all about the new bombard was wrong, now here you change your mind, now claiming it can destroy cities after all. Why should I listen-believe when you tell me you know how this engine works?”

“I said only that it will show us the way,” explained Gradger. “I never claimed to know how.”

“So, Gradge. Tell and reveal – when Lord Urlak finally yields to this engine’s will, where will it take us?”

Farrgrin scowled, but not in an unfriendly manner, more an exhibition of his frustration.

“Friend Farrgrin, I have no idea!”

Continued ...

 

[Padre]

An Excerpt from Bonacorso Fidelibus’s Work: The Many Wars of the Early 25th Century, continued

The Compagnia del Sole lodged first in Viadaza, where they met with the last survivors of the Brabanzon mercenaries and assisted in obtaining ships for them to return home to Bretonnia. By the end of Autumn, they had moved to Urbimo, invited by Barone Pietro Cybo. He had isolated himself in his palazzo since returning from the great defeat of the Disciplinati Di Morr a year previously, widely rumoured to be quite insane. Now, at last, he had emerged from his self-imprisonment to govern his realm once more.

In Remas the citizens welcomed their army back with open arms, the arch-lector blessing them for all they had done and rewarding all the officers among them with pensions and the soldiers with a year’s pay in advance, without demanding that they serve that year. A surprising number chose to remain in arms and took part in the grand parade to celebrate the great victory gained over the vampires. They gathered in the city’s Empire quarter – what with so many of them hailing from the north – before the taverna del Grifone Verde, there to cheer the knights parading throughout the city.

This new knightly order, the Cavalieri Benedetti, were being received into the Church of Morr’s service.

Each of them was a veteran of wars at home and abroad, some having already served as Cavalieri Addobbati or Cavalieri di Corredo, others having been members of knightly orders in the great ultramontane Empire (and occasional customers of the Green Griffon).

Now they had vowed to spend the rest of their days in service of Holy Morr, obeying his worldly representative, the arch lector’s, every command. Liveried like the palace guard in the colours of Remas, their standard bore the crossed keys to holy Morr’s garden.

Each knight bore some remnant insignia of their previous order, to reflect how all mortal souls, no matter whom they serve, as long as they are sufficiently worthy, will finally come to Morr’s garden.

This officially sanctioned order was just one of the ways that the Arch-Lector Bernado hoped to restore the high church’s traditional control of the city after the turmoil of both the wars and the rise of the Disciplinati di Morr.

The latter had not vanished completely, despite the complete annihilation of its army a year before, but his holiness ensured that it remained within its bounds, and functioned as just one of several religious orders, under strict supervision. As the Portomaggioran general Lord Alessio had proved, with a professional army of Remans, Portomaggiorans and VMC mercenaries, it was soldiers who could win wars against the undead, something even a huge rabble of dedicants and fanatics had found impossible.

In central Tilea, a new, uneasy peace had been achieved, or at least a tentative truce for the time being, between the antagonistic realms of Pavona and Verezzo. It was as if a moment in time had been stretched out, with each participating party willing it to continue, despite ongoing distrust and doubts of many kinds. As long as Duke Guidobaldo lay ill, his son would rule in his stead, and there were few in Tilea, even Pavona’s enemies, who did not have respect for the young noble, for all that he had done attempting to defend the realm from evil. While the uomini ratto presented a new danger to the whole realm, Barone Iacopo, the Verezzan regent, was glad to avoid war against the Pavonans (despite all that they had done). Meanwhile, he could enlarge his forces, so that whether he facde ratmen or Pavonans, when the time came he would be ready. His new alliance with Ridraffa (which had been instrumental in obtaining the truce) offered hope to both realms, as did the knowledge that Lord Alessio Falconi was returning from the north, for the barone had served in the alliance army commanded by Alessio, and not only respected him as an able commander but trusted him as a friend.

Boudlerguts’ ogres had left Tilea entirely. The vampires and the rotting legions had been burned. Now it was Sartosan robbers and ratmen who presented threats, which (at least to those who knew their history) seemed somewhat less worrying, for neither were known for stability or longevity. The pirates had a habit of dispersing to the four corners of the world once they had sufficiently satisfied their lust for gold, while the uomini ratto had a propensity for chaos in many forms, from backstabbing and squabbling among their commanders to an over reliance on dubious strategies and unstable engines of war, and they were cursed with a streak of cowardice that could send them scuttling away at the first sign of possible defeat.

Could it be that once these two, last threats were overthrown, Tilea would enjoy a time of peace?

 

[Padre]

The fanatics are on the march! Tilea's Troubles part 70 is now available!

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