SD.Net Kingdoms Story Thread

[Zor]

War-Room, Imperial Palace, Moscow

The Tsar examined the maps as he spoke with his top military officals, all were seated, most in finely made wooden chairs, save for the two Ursiod Generals, which sat on specially made cushions designed for the comfort of the Giant Creatures. The Table before them was covered in maps as the plans for the Tsar's ambitious plans. Numerous paths of conquest were proposed, However, after six debates and stragey Setions, the final plan was laid out.

An army with some 5,000 Streltsi, 500 Cavaliers, 250 Ursiods, 200 sisters, 20 rocket carts and 15 cannon would move out to the North/East with airship support when nessisary, conquering region by region as usual and laying/improving roads using Gulag Prisoners until they reached a minor territory known as Demyansk on the Yavon River, using the waterway to reach Lake Illman, they would assemble an army to besiege and take Novgorod. Novgorod was a major trading center and a wealthy nation, no doubt about this. Ultimatley, however, Novgorod was nothing but a Stepping stone for the Tsar's ambitions, for the real prise was what Novgorod gave the Tsar access to, which was a patch of swampland at the mouth of the Neva River. To many this would seem like a fool-hearty goal, however that patch of swampland was on the Baltic Coastline and to be home to a new comercial center and Naval base.

"So, is everyone in agreement?" The Tsar asked the generals. With that they responded, some nodded their heads, others utter a monosylibic responce, but in the end they all finally responded with a Yes.

"Good, we shall make preperations for this campaign." If all went well, soon the Tsardom would have access to the Oceans from it's new oceanic port and a birthplace for its navy. As for how said port would rise from the swamp, the Imperial Accademy of Science and Engineering had been working on plans for various implements from pile drivers to a specialized bardge for dredging, but most of the foul work would have to be done by hand, which would require alot of men to do in undoubtably miserable and dangerous conditions. However, he was tragically certain that enough of the people from his newly added territories would rebel against or resist the comming of crimson enlightenment and the prosperity it would bring to see the ranks of Gulag Prisoners would swell to the levels needed to supply the manpower to see the birth of Mikhailsgrad.

Results-The Tsardom mobilizes for war with the objective of gaining access to the Baltic Sea.

[Darkevilme]

Spring, Starfall Dominion territory
Four armies have assembled, two in the shadow of castle Hrun to the north of Starfall and one in a distant series of camps to the east. The story of the Dominions expansion told yet again as they march to pacify the lands beyond the borders, the size of the armies some would see as excessive compared to what can be mustered against them but with so mighty a force victory will surely be swift in coming.
Each army consists of
1500 Warriors
1000 footmen
1000 archers
100 wolfguard
500 horsemen
200 knights
50 Golems

A mountain top in the Starfall dominion

Another army has formed, but this one armed not with spear and bow but pickaxe and shovel. Already teeming around the chill peak to begin their work, day by day explosions crack the stone and send it tumbling down the slopes. Casualties are inevitable but nonetheless as The Children command so shall it be, the rocky facade starting to be broken away.

Result: Starfall Dominion starts expanding eastward and does enigmatic things to mountain tops.

[Fingolfin_Noldor]

Imperial Chronicles

The emissary arrived on the borders of Judea and requested an audience with their King. Whether or not they would accept the emissary from the Despotate was a big question, but there was no doubt that both powers would eventually have common borders; the question was where.

[Akhlut]

The March to Kiev

Iason Constantine talked with his advisors and the archon of Chersonesos.

"Now that our armies have swelled, I feel that we should move and take Kiev into the Republic, as well as Sochi. I feel that the expansion of the Republic would help us immensely. We would subjugate more of the world for Christ and Zeus Almighty in Heaven, as well as benefit the Republic by adding more to our coffers."

"Of course, Basileus. We find no problems. We'll have general Leo devise our invasion strategy, my lord."

"Basileus, I have heard that the some of the boyars leading Kiev are descended from some of the royal family that fled Muscovy when the Red Tsardom was established. When we take the city, what shall be done with any surviving boyars?"

"We shall not punish them for their ancestry, but if they are hostile to us for our association with the Tsardom, we shall send them to Muscovy and let the Tsar deal with them as he sees fit."

The Second Army of Taurica

200 Legionaries
200 Spearmen
300 Crossbowmen
100 Militia
100 Archers
100 Skirmishers
100 Raiders
100 Mounted Crossbowmen
Total: 1,100 Infantry, 100 Cavalry

The Third Army of Taurica

200 Legionaries
200 Spearmen
200 Crossbowmen
200 Militia
100 Atl-atl Javeliners
200 Raiders
2 Ballistae

Total: 1,100 Infantry, 2 War Engines

First Army of Leukopolis

400 Legionaries
100 Spearmen
100 Halberdiers
100 Archers
100 Crossbowmen
100 Militia
100 Raiders
2 Trebuchet

Total: 1,000 Infantry, 2 War Engines

Second Army of Leukopolis

200 Legionaries
100 Spearmen
200 Halberdiers
100 Atl-Atl Javeliners
100 Crossbowmen
100 Marauders
100 Boar Scouts

Total: 800 Infantry, 100 Cavalry

Army of the East, 1st Division

200 Legionaries
100 Spearmen
100 Halberdiers
200 Atl-atl Javeliners
200 Militia
200 Crossbowmen
100 Raiders
400 Mounted Crossbowmen
100 Marauders
100 Boar Scouts
100 Skirmishers
2 Trebuchet
2 Ballistae

Total: 1,300 Infantry, 500 Cavalry, 4 War Engines



The Armies of Taurica are labeled with "T," with the 2st Army having a subscript of 1; the armies of Leukopolis labeled with "L", with the 1st army having a subscript of 1, etc. The Armies of Taurica and Leukopolis are marching toward Kiev, while the Army of the East is marching further into Sochi.

The Armies of Taurica and Leukopolis face little to no resistance, as they are marching through unclaimed territory held by farmers. Being Greek-speaking (or, at least, Russified-Greek), they welcomed, or, at least, tolerated the armies marching through. Resistance was limited to roughly 1,000 peasant revolters, who were routed with ease.

The Army of the East dealt primarily with Zygii peasants, who put up more resistance, but the mounted crossbow men and marauders quickly routed the 1,500 peasants who decided to resist.

Results: Complete routs, but skirmishers scouting near Kiev indicate that the city will be difficult to take. No army deaths.

[Master_Baerne]

Baernish-Imperial Combined Fleet
Approaching Irish Coast
Dragon Carrier HGS Isabella

The ship's complement of dragons, brought on deck just as the coast became visible through the fog, tensed the great muscles in their titanic legs, preparing to spring into the air. At a word from the Wing Commander, they did so, smashing their claws downwards into the deck with enough force to tear an armored man in two.

It was for this reason that the decks of Dragon Carriers were made of steel, rather than wood.

As the steel-plated lizards whirled overhead, Imperial Marines and Baernish soldiers alike rowed swiftly away from the ungainly transport craft that had carried them across the Channel, several hundred boats bearing five thousand infantry. It was an impressive sight, with the rising sun glinting off the helmets and pikepoints of the warriors as they waded ashore and formed a shield wall, the second wave close behind.

The three-thousand-or-so defenders the city of Cork had been able to muster were completely outclassed, and they knew it. With the vast army before them, faces grim beneath helmets and swords drawn, many of the militia simply turned and fled. A few, more charismatic or deluded than the rest, managed to rally small knots of men, but these were struck down by mages or flamed by the dragons. Aboard Isabella and the Imperial flagship, a glass of wine was shared in congratulatory toast before the work of implementing the occupation of a country began.

RESULTS: Effectively-unopposed landing of Baernish and Imperial troops in Ireland. Native casualties: ~500. Allied Casualties: A Baernish sailor that a dragon stepped on, and two men who fell overboard and drowned. No enemies survived magical and draconic attack to reach combat range.

[DarthShady]

Location: Small Barbarian Village, Somewhere in Croatia

The old farmer was hard at work, making sure his crop would grow, when his little daughter came running. "Daddy! Daddy! Look.", she said pointing at something in the distance. The old man strained his eyes and tried to see, but he could not make out the strange objects in the sky. "What is that, daddy?", the little girl asked. "I don't know.", he said still looking at the sky, "Go to your mother child, now." As the objects in the sky grew closer, people from the surrounding farms all ran towards the small fort in the village centre. They gathered around their leader, hoping he would have answers. Unsure of what to do the leader ordered the men to arm themselves.

Suddenly the day turned to night and a loud roar ripped through the darkness, followed by an array of more and more horrifying sounds.

The armies of the Shadow Lord were on the move...

[Siege]

The Mediterranean

Suddenly, there were sails on the horizon. First one, then more, and more, and more still. Dozens, then dozens more, ships appeared on the azure waves of the Middle Sea. White sails billowed. The sounds of oars rythmically striking water filled the air. At the head of the approaching armada sailed a titan of a ship. It had nine masts, twelve sails and four levels. On its upper deck stood dozens, no hundreds of soldiers. This was the Sun-Barge, greatest of the Pharaoh's warships. Water elementals danced across the tops of waves its armoured prow cut. Air elementals played along its sails.

The great fleet came to a halt off the coast of the island. A small boat detached from the Sun-Barge. In it was a varied group of people: four rowers; eight elite soldiers, wearing the ornate helmets of the Horus Guards; a Son of Anubis in a bright red cloak; and a Khepri priestess of Ra. The boat gently struck the shore and its occupants filed onto the pearly beach.

Then one of the soldiers unfurled two great banners and planted them proudly in the sand. One depicted the Eye of Horus; the other the Ankh. The Khepri lit some incense in a golden bowl whilst the Son of Anubis kneeled before the two proud banners. "We give thanks to mighty Ra and all the gods for this day," he solemnly intoned. "We hereby claim these lands, on behalf of Pharaoh Atum-Ra, the great king, the mighty king, the king of the four quarters of the world. May this island, this Crete, be Egypt's from now until the end of eternity!"

Result: Egypt claims the island of Crete, and sends a fleet to enforce the claim. Incidentally, we intend to bring the guiding Light of Ra -aka civilization- to this island, and kick the living crap out of the creepy minotaurs that rule there now, and since we're not evil soul-eating bastards of gloom the local populace will probably like us for it too .

[Zor]

Parade Grounds, Outside Tver

The Tsar, dressed in his full military uniform inspected the troops from horseback as they stood at attention. The Ranks of Well Disiplined Streltsi stood on guard, rifles at the ready while their NCOs ordered them to salute the passing monarch while the redgimental colours fluttered in the wind. The Cavaliers held high their lances which glistened in the sun. The Artillerists stood confidant besides their prised guns and rocket wagons as the Ursiods, mighty and proud warriors of the Tsardom stood Erect, bearing their heavy rifles as the sun reflected off their mighty suits of Armor. Five Orthodox Preists, as well as a Rabbi, a pagan holy man and woman and even a Imam hald walked by, blessing the army in the manner their faith dempt appropriate. Drifting overhead, several airships, including a Mighty Kirov floated as there banners drifted behind them. All the armies waited for their sovereign to begin the camapign patiently. Finally, the Tsar pulled his sword out from his scabbard and began to make his speach.

"Soldiers of the Tsardom," He said proudly "Today you march to war in one of the Greatest mobilizations in our history. We have assembled this great fighting force to march to the Northwest and add these lands to our nation. Like soldiers of the Tsardom have before, you shall face down whatever hordes of raving savages the petty nobles of the lands beyond our boarders throw against you with calm, focused and disciplined responce that a soldier of the Tsardom shall give all who opposes us.

"The foes you face are the same foes as we have always faced, Noblemen. To these men, the lives of others are but stepping stones to power, either by toiling without end in the fields or as fodder to be tossed against the enemy in hopes of scoring a kill without any consern of saftey like so many arrows. They may claim to know how war is fought, but that is a lie. To them it is a game for power and presteige in which men are but pawns to be sacroficed in droves for there petty gains of land and men and as a sport to be enjoyed in there perverse mindset. However the people of the Tsardom know the simple truth that they have forgotton, War is Hell. In this conflict you shall unfurl upon those who stand against the Tsardom a nightmarish storm of Death to remind them of that fact.

"But even in the heart of battle, remember what you are fighting for. You fight for the Tsardom, to help the insure the well being and prosperity of her subjects. You fight for the future, so that the Tsardom should be stronger and her people be able to live in peace without fear of attack. Finally you fight for those who live under the heel of Noble Opression, to liberate them from there slave masters and from there backwardsness. Not too long ago, we were just like them and not to far in the future, they will be a part of us. So i say press the attack and ready your weapons. Today the Armies of the Tsardom March on to Glory and Victory to bring the crimson enlightenment to the lands which have for too long been shrouded in darkness and ignorance! Long live the Crimson Enlightenment!" He flourished his blade "Long live the Red Tsardom!"

With that the Ursiods let loose a mighty roar in salute, while the two Markov Airships overhead fired off a display of fireworks while the ranks of human forces began to chant

"LONG LIVE THE TSAR! LONG LIVE THE TSAR! LONG LIVE THE TSAR!"

The Tsar looked on to the cheering crouds with a stern, but confident and approving face. In a few minutes, soon the force of the Tsardom would move out to war. This was the begining of a new age for the Tsardom.

(Results-The Armies of the Red Tsardom are moving towars Lake Illman and the city of Novgorod. In their ranks are...

5,000 Streltsi
500 Imperial Cavaliers
250 Ursiod Warriors
200 Sisters of Scarlet Mercy
20 Rocket Carts
15 Field Guns

With access to the Tsardom's Red Air Force whenever the need arises to bomb the shit out of something. The army will attack two Zones at a time and be split into three main units, two advanced, one reserve.

The Advanced units will consist of...

-1,500 Streltsi
-200 Imperial Cavaliers
-100 Ursiods
-75 Sisters
-7 Rocket Carts
-5 Field Guns

Each attacking a single Zone en route to Novogorod

The Reserve force will stay behind and work in pacification and act as backup as needed. It has

-2,000 Streltsi
-100 Imperial Cavaliers
-50 Ursiods
-50 Sisters
-6 rocket carts
-5 Field Guns

[Fingolfin_Noldor]

Imperial Chronicles

It was a solemn mass held in the Hagia Sophia Basilica. Hundreds attended the mass inside, along with hundreds who waited outside, hoping to get a glimpse of what many have come to refer to as, the God Emperor of Man. He was the representative of God himself, now come to bring salvation to the world. The Ecumenical Patriarch sat on his right hand, while his wife sat on his left. Flavius Petrus Sabbatius Iustinianus rose and addressed the masses, "People of Constantinople. It is time to retake the lands that were once ours." The crowds cheered, they roared. The long awaited retaking of the lands of the Byzantine Empire can finally begin.

The Despot raised his hands to bade his people to stop. There was silence. "After hundreds of years, Constantinople has been restored to her former splendor, as have our other great cities, such as Nicea. It is now time to retake our lands. Close to our hearts has been the great city of Thessaloniki, that was once part of our Empire of old. We will retake the city in one glorious battle that will be sung and remembered for generations. We will rid the world of all the daemonic powers and all those who worship Satan, the Chaos Daemonic Prince. We will purge the world of all Chaos heretics and burn them with holy fire."

The crowds roared in approval. "Burn the heretics! Scourge them! Return the holy light of God to the world!" they yelled. Again Iustinianus raised his hand. "Our blessed Comitatenses will lead the charge to Thessaloniki. Another army led by the great Warmaster Belisarius will go east, while Warmaster Macharius will lead the charge to west. I will personally lead the attack with Macharius to assail the city of Thessaloniki and purge the city of all daemonic powers. We will retake back what is ours!"

The crowds roared. With that Iustinianus and his Warmasters headed outside the Great Walls of Constantinople with their armies. And then, they boarded the waiting Battle Barges, and headed for their targets.

Results:

Under Macharius and Iustinianus and heading for Thessaloniki
- 2 Chiliarchy of Comitatenses
- 2 Battle Barges
- 1 Ravager Cruisers
- 1 Lancer Frigates
- 100 Grey Knights
- Siege Magi (x40)
- Great Bombard (x20)
- Medium Cannon (x30)
- Anti Air Guns (x40)
- 50 Light dragons
- 25 Heavy Dragons

Under Belisarius and heading for East for Ikonium
- 1 Chiliarchy of Comitatenses
- 1 Battle Barges
- 1 Ravager Cruisers
- 1 Lancer Frigates
- Siege Magi (x40)
- Great Bombard (x20)
- Medium Rockets (x30)
- Anti Air Guns (x40)
- 50 Light dragons
- 25 Heavy Dragons

[DarthShady]

The Great Demonic Armies of the Shadow Lord were split in two. The conquest of the human world had begun.


The First Army:

3000 Barbarian Warriors
2000 Vampire Swordsmen
1000 Vampire Archers
500 Elder Vampire Warriors
500 Tanar'ri(Demons)
50 Golems
5 Goblin Trebuchets(group)
10 Goblin Balliista(group)
20 Demilich
5 Shadow Dragons
3 Doombringers
6 Spider Demons(Bebilith)

Hero Unit: The Shadow Lord

The Second Army:

3000 Barbarian Warriors
2000 Vampire Swordsmen
1000 Vampire Archers
500 Elder Vampire Warriors
500 Tanar'ri(Demons)
50 Golems
5 Goblin Trebuchets(group)
10 Goblin Balliista(group)
20 Demilich
5 Shadow Dragons
3 Doombringers
6 Spider Demons(Bebilith)

The Humans would soon fall before the Daemonic armies of the Shadow Lord. The Barbarians may be numerous, but they were no match for the horrors unleashed upon them.

OOC: No time to write up a battle now, but I'll get around to it.

[Siege]

The Enlightenment of Crete



The force dispatched by the Pharaoh to Crete consists of:

10 Khepri
10 Sageti
50 Sons of Anubis
2,000 Oryx infantry
1,000 Medjay archers
2,000 Kushite scouts/skirmishers
200 War Chariots

[PeZook]

Somewhere near the Baltic coast

The longboat moved steadily, the oars splashing into the murky waters with a numbing rhythm. It was a good boat, of the kind used by Pomeranian "barbarians". Despised and looked down by the so-called civilized nations, the Pomeranians were actually quite skilled craftsmen, and formed a loose coalition of tribes capable of challenging any invading force.

This particular boat was rented by a Pogorian messenger to carry a very special load. Nothing too heavy, but important nonetheless. While the boat's captain appreciated the hefty pay, his cargo made him extremely nervous.

It consisted of four druids and a sleeping forest witch.

The gnarly woman had to be carried on board by her bodyguards, and the crew received strict orders not to disturb her. The druids themselves stood watch by her side day and night, seemingly never sleeping. Or not seemingly - no crewman has ever seen them sleep, actually. With every passing day, the crew grew more and more agitated. Whatever the money was, he'd be glad to have the cargo off his boat.

The watchman cried out into the fog, and an answer was heard. Soon enough, the fog parted, revealing a long wooden pier sticking out deep into the bay on the Baltic shore.

"Right on time, captain. You are truly a man of your word.", a druid commented out of the blue. The captain almost jumped, as the man appeared on board without warning nor sound.

"Yes...the weather was agreeable, thank Wit."

"Certainly. Here is the second part of your payment."

The captain took the golden guineas without asking questions. He learned long ago that this allowed him to sleep better.

Four days later

The amber stones lay on the damp ground, arrayed in a precise pattern. Dark energies seemed to swirl around them, and magically gifted people could readily sense what they were.

Dreamstones. Catching glimpes of nightmares, so that zmorha spirits would travel with their holder.

The forest clearing upon which the small Pogorian party stood seemed ordinary, but in reality it was anything but. It was a site of ancient druidic rituals, aiding the focus of the forest witch - who still slept on her wicker stretcher. The druid which seemed to be in charge of the party kissed her hand and placed the largest, most ornate Dreamstone in her palm. The gnarled fingers locked upon the amber tightly.

"Awaken!", he druids began to chant, calling out the zmorhas. Terrible creatures they were - attacking a man's dreams, driving him mad and seeping poison into his very thoughts. And because of that, supremely useful for what use the Pogorians had in mind for them.

As the chant grew louder, and dreamstones released their deadly cargo. The spirits rose high above the clearing. Their presence was invisible to ordinary men, but even they could feel the sheer concentration of malicious energies. The chanting stopped.

Nothing seemed to happen for a while - in sight, anyway. In the dream world, the witch used her steel willpower to commune with the angry spirits and set them towards their goal. Not a minute later, the zmorhas disappeared, rushing through the dreamworld towards where their prey was told to be.

To the south east. Towards the advancing armies of the Tsardom, where they would sow chaos and madness.

Result: Pogorians decide to make the Tsar's campaign difficult by covertly unleashing two dozen zmorhas.

[Dark Hellion]

(OOC: sorry for the large number of sequential posts but I wish for each action to be clearly demarcated)

Memphis

The Davidian Ambassador scurried about the makeshift embassy sandwiched behind a small market square, his numerous clerks busy collating the various reports come in from official government channels, the few informants he had managed to sway and the augur who generally stayed in her room in back. Lord Cary had been trained for war, but his natural skills at diplomacy made him the prime choice for this duty, and he gladly accepted when Samuel requested it. He snatched the freshly scribed message to Atum-Ra from the cowering translator and started out towards the palace.

Walking through the market he towered above the average peasant, and they made way for the tall, lean man in his loose fitting black robe. A short time later he stood before the palace guard, showing his credentials to the gatehouse guardians. Within he handed his scroll to a lesser minister, telling him the message was for his lord, but could easily wait until he was unoccupied.

The scroll read:

Our augurs have informed us that you are dispatching a force towards Crete. As we foresee that you wish to establish control of this portion of the Mediterranean the Lord Samuel, Regent wished to inform you that we have no qualms with your kingdom also taking claim of Cyprus. Feel free to rest it from barbarian hands with our best wishes to your conquering armies.

[Dark Hellion]

Southeastern Crimea

The two figures skulked through the brush that surrounded the small farm. The farmer was working his field, slowly coming closer, his wife had just returned to the small cabin to prepare supper. The two had cased the place well, observing that the two lived on their own and rarely contacted anyone in the village nearby, and were rarely contacted in return. Whatever the reason for this, the two didn't care, they had found their victims.

The farmer was now 5 feet from the brush, and they struck, a poisoned dart striking his neck, the man hitting the ground in an instant. They quickly drug his body into the bush. They stripped his clothing and began their grizzly work. Small sharp blades made quick cuts through the skin, quickly separating it from the muscle. It took around 15 minutes for the removal to be completed. Studying the body carefully, one of the figures began to put the freshly flayed skin on, musculature shifting to match the man's stature. The other figure carefully stitched up the cuts and applied balms that masked the lines. They then proceeded to the farmhouse.

40 minutes later

The stew was quite delicious, they had to admit. Shame an unwatched ember would burn the house down, and the poor farmer and his wife would 'die' in their sleep. The two walked away from the burning house towards the first city they would visit. The lord Lucas wanted information about this Crimean kingdom and they would provide it. Neither liked the bodies they had though, but they could change. And perhaps finer specimens would present themselves.

[Dark Hellion]

Jerusalem

This was to be the greatest day of Cynthia's life. She had been chosen from amongst all the girls to be David's monthly handmaiden. The frightening Praetor that had chosen her had left and she was escorted by a pair of vicious looking Absolvers to a smaller rectory. In the rectory a number of hollow-eyed young women had given her a thin white vestment to wear and lead her towards the inner sanctum.

She removed her clothing, a simple woolen garment that showed her humble origins, and placed them within the ceremonial fire. She put on the white gown and then politely entered the room. Within it was dark, coated in shadows and smelling of musty oldness. Huge bookshelves lined with volumes of texts dominated two of the massive walls, while a large bed, desk and dresser took up the other two. A raspy voice spoke.

"So, you are my new handmaiden. Welcome."

Cynthia was ecstatic, her lord had spoken to her.

"Please," it continued, "come sit on the bed. I am feeling week today, and do not wish to move over there."

She walked to the bed, deep in the shadows. She sat... it was so soft. She had slept on a small pallet of straw at home, never a massive bedding of down like this. She could not believe her luck.

"I am sorry to impose so much on you. But my strength is so important for this kingdom, and for the future of humanity. I do not like doing these things I must, but my discomfort is irrelevant."

The figure exited the shadows. He was thin and wizened. Scars coated his exposed arms and legs, and the shadow seemed to cling behind him like a hound following its master. He looked so weak, yet exuded authority and power. He approached her and seated himself next to her. She could smell a musty smell like an old tomb emanating from him. For a moment she felt pity for him. She could tell why each handmaiden could only last a month, he would need so much help. A small tear formed on her check. And then she felt his hand clasp upon the back of her head, the fingers sinking slowly through the flesh.

"Don't worry, and don't pity me. Pity yourself, for the little time you will still be you. I am doing this to save you the pain."

And she felt it slipping away. Her family slid from her mind. She knew their names, but nothing was attached to those names anymore. All the emotional attachments severed. She tried to concentrate, find something important... something that made her herself. But nothing was there.

"Trust me, this is a kindness. The next part is far worse. Close your eyes. Whisper to yourself 'it'll be all right'. I'll try not to hurt you, but you will be uncomfortable."

Her eyes closed as a shadow overwhelmed the whole room. There was a sparkling of magic, and the tomb scent grew stronger. The thin robe fell way easily. 'It will be all right' she whispered, and he felt things move over her body. 'It will be all right' she felt them on her, in her, moving inside. She knew why each handmaiden lasted so short a time, and were the hollow-eyed women came from. She wept softly while David feasted.

Samuel's Study

There was a small chime ringing in his study. Samuel rushed to the small dais in the corner that held the largest and most pristine of his Palantir orbs.

"Yes my Lord David."

He bowed low and listened.

"Of course, I shall make the organization."

Another bit.

"If Lucas has been informed I am sure he has planned the campaign impeccably. Do not worry, I shall prepare the necessary apparatus to assimilate the new territories."

[Dark Hellion]

East of Divinadavidia

The armies moved out quickly. Each of the five Praetors had been assigned to capture specific swathes of land from the barbarians. Those that resisted would be slaughtered, those that surrendered peacefully would be given a share of their land back in return for fealty. It was a simple plan and had proved effective in the past. The primitive tribal cultures did not field anything that could threaten the moving forces, and both sides knew it. It took little more than a few weeks for the Davidian armies to drive all resistance out.

(OOC)

Each force consists of a Praetor, a Lich-Born, 50 Dusk knights, 200 Absolvers, and 300 Dusk knights. Each is conquering a grouping of 5 territories to the Southeast of the kingdom. They will be involved in the occupation of the land for the rest of the turn.

Deaths: 0

Casualties: numerous incapacitating injuries but nothing untreatable by magic, nor significant in weakening army strength.

[Zor]

300 meters Outside a Local Warlord's hold, Russia

Major Dmitri Pyotrvich, Commanding officer Red Imperial Army's northern group watched through his binoculars, looking on the gaping hole where once a wood and iron gate stood after the smoke cleared. The stink of sulfer still filled the air, as was the case in battles. As he inverstiaged closer, he saw that the savages were begining to get smart as he saw a pile of dirt propping up a few boards. Aparently they were trying to back the gate with a pile of dirt, a tactic that would have made things a hell of alot more complicated if they had started it sooner. Never the less, there was only two responces that could be given, surrender or a last stand.

And given the screaming forces that poored through the gate, it was clear that it was the last. The forces were swordsmen, horsemen, archers and spearmen, all infantry wearing no armor besides helmets, knowing what a firearm could make of them. However, the Tsar's forces were ready for them as the Streltsi had their rifles to bear and loaded. He jestured towards the gate and gave the word. "FIRE!" The NCOs corused and a salvo was fired off, sending a hail of bullets into the enemy's ranks. There was little time to pick out targets and little need, the salvo slammed into the massed group, knocking many men and horses to the ground dead, over a hundred of them. Yet they pressed on, undoubtebly trampling there own and spreading out as best they could to try to avoid fire from their armies. Not that they managed to spread out enough to avoid the second salvo wreaking massive causalties, nor did they stop before a cannonade broke through the core of those still comming out. A third salvo of rifle fire crashed into their ranks, at this point a few began to flee especially as the mighty ursiods and Imperial calaviers moved in on the flanks. Some of the cavalrymen turned to engage the Tsardom's horse mounted soldiers and great bears, only to face high caliber fire from these mighty warriors' rifle. At that point more and more soldiers were tossing aside their arms and breaking while those who were not were being singled out and gunned down.

After two more salvos the entire army was either running for the woods, dead or surrendering as bear and cavalrymen aproached their sides. Some 500 were left and were walked away from their weapons by the ursiods. The Tsar's men broke out into cheers, before marching in to tie and restrain the prisonners. The captured weapons would be either sold to other nations or melted down to make cannon balls, depending on there value and quality. Major Pyotrvich looked at his pocket watch, it took less than 5 minutes from the destruction of the gate to the decimation of their foes armie and the addition of a new province to the Tsardom. He closed his watch, taking a second to do something he did not do in a long time, and admired the runes that had been engraved onto it. They were suposed to ward off maligenent spirits, as were those issued to other officers and important figures. There was also a runestone, the symbols on it were blessed with writing in Hebrew as opposed to more traditional runes, but the accademy of Runepreists said that it would make no diference in its power in offering protection against corrupting spells and malignent spirits. It had been delivered this morning via airship and should be installed in the town before sunset, as was standard proceedure when taking a city like this one. He looked onto the walls of the town before him, it was small, maybe with some 7,500 people living in it. Up until today, it was but a minor barbarian warlord's stronghold. Now with it's warlord dead and what forces he could have mustered either corpses, captured or making a mad dash to the trees, its new life would begin soon it would be reborn as a proper city of the Red Tsardom.

Result-The Red Tsardom Conquers new territory in it's quest for the baltic, slaughtering some 1,500 savages with only 2 casualties from arrows hastilly fired, one leathel. As well as the Setting up a defensive runestone to protect the Tsardom's men from malignent spirits and magics.

[PeZook]

Pomerania

"We fear no Tsar, Emissary. Your ploy is as transparent as it is futile."

The tribe's leader was far from the stereotypical barbarian warlord. He was a tall man, muscular, of course, since he had to be a fearsome warrior in order to reach this position. However, he was also a sly politician and a gifted speaker. He called himself a prince - Prince Gniewosz, leader of all Pomeranian tribes. He now gazed from his amber-incrusted throne at the Pogorian messenger, who brought him an offer of a mutual alliance.

"Then you are a fool, sire. The Tsardom exists as an anathema to our way of life. Should they come for you...", the messenger attempted to reason.

"Then we will fight them, as we fought those who came before! We will fight them and they will all die in this land, which they do not know or respect!"

"Sire, I urge you to reconsider..."

"There is nothing else to think about, Pogorian. Your ilk have been trying to conquer Pomerania for centuries, and you know perfectly well how futile these attempts are. Our warriors are strong and disciplined, our lands - hostile to anyone who doesn't know them. This is but a latest attempt at subduing us, and it will fail."

The messenger bowed, seeing that his visit would gain nothing else.

"If this is your decision sire, we will, of course, respect it. Please know, however, that king Radoslaw only wishes to protect our common ways from destruction by foreign nations."

"Then he should look to his own defences, Pogorian."

The messenger withdrew and exited the great wooden palace. He looked upon the great pomeranian grod of Gdansk, sitting at the mouth of the Vistula.

"Should we head back to Krakow?", his guide asked him.

"No, of course not. This is but a first of many visits. Don't you know how Pomeranians negotiate?"

Result: Pogorians continue their diplomatic campaign. They shall expand north-east, dividing and conquering smaller tribes while forging alliances with bigger ones.


Arrow shows direction of campaign ; Pomerania and Prussia are large barbarian nations

Wawel Castle, Krakow

"Your gifts were most appreciated by his royal highness, sire, and I have been instructed to inform your that he does indeed worry about the Tsardom's ambitions. An alliance between us would do much to counter them.", the Danish envoy was standing before the King in the huge audience chamber. He came from Denmark after the Pogorian envoy visited their country, and it seemed that an agreement could be reached quickly.

Radoslaw never expected what came next, though.

"In order to cement this alliance, our gracious King would like to make an offer to you, sire. It is understood that the Pogorian King has no wife, and thus the Danes would like to offer their most precious treasure as a gift of friendship and token of good will..."

And thus, the envoy extracted a finely painted picture and presented it to the King.



"Your highness, princess Marta."

Result: Why, a personal union between Denmark and Pogoria? That girl sure is hot, and Radoslaw is so lonely...

[The Romulan Republic]

King Adrian sat on his tall, carved-oak throne. A tall, thin man of middle age, he had a sharp, angular face with peircing eyes crowned with greying brown hair. He had inheritted his throne 20 years before, when his father had died in the last major outburst of plauge. That same plauge had nearly claimed him as well, and had left him perpetually sickly. Yet he had clung to life, and if his body was not as strong as a king should ideally be, his mind was as sharp as any in the realm, adept at combining fragments of information into a cohesive whole and pitting one adversary against another.

Now he sat in the smaller chamber adjacent to the public audience hall, the private council room where he met with his advisors and important messengers. Though less imposing than the main hall, it was still an impressive work of architechture, a circle 50 feet in diameter with a domed rough rising 30 feet above the ground. 12 great marble columns in the classical style ringed the room, rising 20 feet up to the series of sculptures that ringed the hall at the base of the dome. From the tops of the columns sprang ribs of stone, spanning outwards to meet in the middle of the brightly painted dome. Just beneath the crown of the dome hung an orb of brilliant white, suspended like the Sun above the heads of the Lords of the Kingdom. Two tall statues of Roman soldiers flanked the entrance to the room, towering over the two identicaly armoured human soldiers that stood guard at their base. Rose coloured stone slabs composed the floor, forming a great spiral pattern. In the center of the room was a circular table. On one side, facing the door, sat the King. Arrayed before him were the three Counts who held the between them a third of the Kingdom's land, the Council of Mages, five officers of the army and navy, and the head of the Inquisision. They were here to discuss the growing communications between the various civillized realms in their chaotic world, the meetings of empires light and dark, and the possission of the Kingdom in this new world.

(Just an introductory post. I'll be sending out emmissaries, but if any one wishes to negotiate, my King is recieving ambassadors in the council chambers).

[Darkevilme]

Military camp, beyond the Dominion frontier

General Gaetan sighs in relief as he looks out over the camp. A constellation of fires spread out across the field to match that of the stars above. The clamour of merriment heard from the middle as drink, whores and dice are partaken of freely. And why shouldn't they be merry? Had the campaign not been an easy one thus far? But it was not unexpected he reflects, the massive show of force these armies represent to the fractious tribes outside the dominion practically quells all open resistance in short order. Some tribes swearing fealty now the symbol of the Dominion's protection is here at hand. There were those who resisted of course, a couple of inevitable battles with fatally uncooperative chieftains who had to be put to death unfortunately as an example when the unpleasantness was over....and with that thought Gaetan finishes what he was doing, tugging up his britches and heading back towards the tent where his advisors await, his last thought before slipping through the flap a reflection on the sorry state of field Latrines for the army on the move.

Results:
Wolfguard suffered numerous injuries but negligible casualties leading monster clean up of captured territories.
Total of around 400 warriors in all 4 armies dead due to poor battlefield discipline.

[The Romulan Republic]

The King's gaze swept around the room, alighting briefly on each of his councilors. Some were allies, some adversaries, but none were friends. Certainly none were trusted. Certainly not the individual currently speaking.

"My lord, it is all very well to talk, but what of the risk of overextending our armies? Two tied up in a campaign on the peninsula. Growing conflict abroad. Should we be required to send a force overseas, we would at minimum retain only a single reserve division!"

The King frowned. Count Rogan was an a powerful man, but subtlety was not his strong point. The nobility had strong motives to delay expansion up the peninsula, as times of war and expansions of the realm usually lead to a diminishing of feudal power. The Senate was becoming increasingly isolationist these days. But the King had his own supports, chief among them the man who now rose to address the Count. He was tall, with a stern face and noble bearing, slightly younger than the King. General Alonzo was perhaps the King's most important alley in these councils, as both a powerful noble in his own right, and the realm's best field commander.

"I assure you my lord that their is no real risk. The chances of a foreign conflict are currently slight, and if required we should have ample time to pull troops back from the northward campaign. Regardless, I judge that one division plus militia forces should suffice for a campaign northward to Rome. We are fighting ill-equipped peasants and feudal rabbles, not professional forces.

My friends, the time has come to act. For too long the land of our forefathers has been in barbarian hands. We are strong now, and have been for many years. The only reason we must stretch our forces at all is because we have waited this long. Now is the time. Our needs will grow greater, not less, if we do not expand our borders." That got an angry glance from the three counts. The King decided it was time to conclude this discussion.

"General, how long do you think it would take to advance as far as Rome?"

Alonzo frowned.

"Uncertain, Sire. It depends on weather we can persuade most of the rabble to come to us willingly. Some months, I would imagine. This would require the rotation of militia forces."

"Would your advance require navel support?"

"It would speed operations, but it is not essential. We need not commit our fleet in any capacity besides some smaller vessels to transport troops across the rivers."

The King nodded.

"Very well, you are authorized to proceed with your preparations. You will prepare a declaration, which you will present to me in one week's time for my Royal Assent. Now, let us turn to other business, and specifically the proposal we have received regarding our non-intervention in the Balkans. Let me specifically draw your attention to the issue of trade routes, and how this offer might be turned to our advantage."

Adrian could see the displeasure of the nobility, but they had no avenue for complaint. No doubt their would be some small, petty recrimination in the Senate, but foreign matters were the domain of the Crown, and his father had ensure that their would be no opportunity for more... overt disloyalty.

[Zor]

Vasilievsky Island, Neva River Delta,

The swamp was unclaimed, the swamp was uninhabited, the Swamp was though was not considered valuable by anyone. Until now.

Above the Swampland, they floated silently. Six airships, five Markov-class, one Zhukov-class bearing the Flag of the Red Tsardom. First the Markovs landed one by one in the only clearing large enough for them, unloading passengers and equipment while the Markov was forced. Among them were some 25 Crimson Guardsmen, 5 Runepreists, 10 Sisters of Scarlet Mercy, 45 Labourers and 10 Warrior Alchemists. With them were unloaded their supplies, ammunition, tools, food as well as a few more exotic items. The first being a large runestone which was carefully unloaded and set while the runepreists did their work setting it in to protect the facillity from supernatural threats, as well as the special runic pendants that each member was issued. The second item was a keg of Alchemite, a highly valuable substance that the alchemists readied to use, solidifying ground, uprooting trees and priming the area. Doing this with the entire island would drive the entire Tsardom bankrupt, but for a select small pascel of land, it was worth the expense. Meanwhile the labourers (all of which were well paid for their efforts), Sisters and Streltsi set to work processing the logs, hacking away the branches and roots while a few more set up tents while the Runepreists left, their job done. A few were sent down into the ground as piles, but just as many more were put into holes to establish the walls. They worked until an hour past sunset, celibrating with song, dance, Vodka and spit roasted deer which one of the Streltsi Shot before going to bed. When they awoke at dawn, only the Zhukov Airship remained, although in the fog they could not make it out and went back in estalishing their tiny fortress/landing sight for airships. The task would be done within a week. However, this was but the first step in the birth of Mikhailsgrad.

Imperial Areodrome, Outside Moscow

Alexander Lavrov walked aboard Markov-class Airship Pheonix as it cast off, clutching his pocket watch in hand as the doors closed while he sat down near the chests, taking a shot of Vodka to calm his nerves. It contianed alchemically enhanced armor and swords, pocket watches, pelts, a set of blueprints for a basic seed drill and a finely made silk and gold adorned greatcoat as gifts for the monarch he would be meeting next. One which made him very nervous. He had recently gotten back from Egypt and had spent a pair of relaxing days with his wife and two daughters before being summoned back by the Tsar for a mission which he was frankly a bit fightened of what he face, apparently the kingdom he was going to was one which was mobilizing an alliance against the Tsardom. His job was to try to open up commications with this nation, to try to prevent an unessisary war and unessisary bloodshed between this nation and the Tsardom.

Egypt was a strange alien place, but ultimately they did not desire war with the Tsardom and was quite co-operative. Besides, from the reports he read this place was even stranger, Inhuman monsters created from women, forests populated by nightmarish spirits and cruel witches. Never the less, he had a duty to Tsar and Tsardom to try to find a way to secure peace with these Pogorians.

RESULTS-The Red Tsardom begins to establish a minor presence at the Neva River's mouth, while a diplomatic team was dispatched to tryto secure a peace treaty with Pogoria.

[Siege]

Palace of Minos, Crete

The minotaur-king was a terrifying creature to behold. Part man and part bull, it was known by the natives of Crete as Baal-Moloch, the great tyrant, who demanded of them seven youths and seven maidens be sent every ninth year to be devoured, and inflicted great hardships upon the Cretans.

Previous days had seen fierce battles between the minotaurs and the invading Egyptians. Formidable as the creatures were, a dozen soldiers had been slain for each minotaur felled. Now, a truce had been called and an Egyptian delegation had come to the Palace of Minos. To talk, the Egyptians had claimed.

The minotaur-king looked upon them, its bull-eyes alight with crimson fire. “Have you come here to abase yourself before my greatness?” it demanded. “Prostrate yourselves, or I shall devour your souls!”

Seth, the Speaker in Tongues, looked at the Khepri and nodded barely perceptibly. The priestess of Ra focused her great many-faceted insect eyes on the evil creature in front of the delegation, and made a single, almost casual looking, gesture in its direction.

The minotaur-king combusted. Struck by the awesome power of the Sun God, the creature seemed to light up with the brightness of the noon sun. Blinding rays of sunlight shone suddenly from its mouth, its ears, its nose, the very pores of its skin. Then the vile being simply disappeared in a blinding flash of light and heat. Ever so briefly, every nerve ending in the bodies of those there assembled recorded a strange, prickling sensation -- the sheer pressure of photons trying to push them backward. It was over after a mere fraction of a second. Of the vile god-beast that had terrorized Crete for so long, nothing more was left than a long shadow of carbonized dust on the ground.

“Atum-Ra has given you his answer”, Seth quietly addressed the remaining minotaurs, and readjusted his crimson robes. “From now on, you bow to him.”

Thus was broken Baal-Moloch’s hold on Crete, and began the benevolent reign of Pharaoh Atum-Ra over the island. And there was much rejoicing.

Result: The power of Ra smites the minotaur-king but good; Crete is now ours. And there was much rejoicing .

[Fingolfin_Noldor]

Imperial Chronicles

The Hagia Sophia and the Ave Maria brought the army two-thirds the way to Thessaloniki before disembarking the army. The army would march the rest of the way on foot. The Despot and his Warmaster were not taking any chances, and preferred that the army moved stealthily for rest of the way. Inquisitors scouting along the Shadow Empire border have been sending messages back via psykers that there was movement along the Shadow Empire. This placed an even greater urgency on Despot to complete and finish the siege in the quickest possible time. Thessaloniki must be taken as soon as possible and the army must split and march down to take other important cities such as Sophia and Larissa and down to the Pelopponese. The march east must progress as far as Antioch if possible, before the Judeans made any moves.

While the army marched on, the Thematic troops in Constantinople were busy rebuilding the roads to Thessaloniki. The army of workers worked as fast as they could fixing the roads which have suffered from centuries of neglect. After the Great War, the armies of the Despotate were withdrawn to its core cities guarding against any intrusions by daemons. It was the job of the Thematic troops to patrol the borders and to hunt down any daemons that slipped in. Now, the thematic troops were doing their part in expanding the influence of the Despotate beyond the cities, and the roads will go a long way in re-establishing Byzantine authority in Greece.

Assigning some comitatenses as scouts, the army moved cautiously ahead. Scouts made sure that there were no enemies that lay in wait to ambush the army. When the army was a few kilometers from the city, two Inquisitors appeared and came to the Despot. They have been sent 2 years ago to the city of Thessaloniki to provide intelligence on the disposition of the city armies, and to sabotage the enemy's war efforts. Weekly reports on the situation in the city enabled the army to prepare for the coming battle. "Do you have anything new to report?" asked the Warmaster Macharius.

"No m'lord. The city is as it is when we left it. We have here the most updated map on the city, and which parts of the walls you might be able to breach easily."

"Excellent. And the state of the enemy army?"

"The daemon prince that rules here is strong. Though most of the army is composed of heretics who would probably scream profanities as they charge our lines, there are groups of elite daemons that form his bodyguard."

"We have here the full company of Grey Knights that will deal with these daemons and destroy them. Worse come to worst, we can always equip the army with anti-daemon weapons. The Captains in the Chiliarchies typically have some anti-daemon weapons in their store."

"Then we seem prepared for the siege."

"Indeed." Turning to the Despot, Macharius asked, "Do you approve, sire?"

Nodding, "I approve. We move to take the city in 2 weeks."

With that, the army moved on. Along the way, the roads were littered with cruxified humans, with evil runes inscribed on their bodies. These were taken down, cleansed and blessed by the priests, and then finally burnted. When they finally arrived on the outskirts of the city within sight of the walls, the army fanned out to its assigned dispositions. Scouts made sure that no enemy army would ambush the siegers. The frigate circled around the city and also posted look outs on the high mast. The cannons were rolled forward to their assigned positions and waited. The siege magi organised work crews to construct trebuchet and onagers. This was all in plain sight of the enemy. Mass was said for all the troops as they prayed for the Lord's providence. Then a herald rode forth with two guards to the gates of the city. "The Despot of Byzantium demands that you surrender the city and surrender yourselves to almighty God for judgement. In reply, the defenders snickered and tossed a dead body over the walls. Close examination revealed a body that was tortured and inscribed with evil runes. "They must have sacrificed him to Satan in preparation for the battle," said the Inquisitor.

With that, the dogs of war were unleashed. The cannons and trebuchets fired torrents of projectiles at the walls and over the walls. The Battle Barges used their superior elevation to fire accurate shots at the top of the city wall, where it was at its weakest. For two days, parts of the wall began crumbling, and then on the third day, a large section of the wall crumbled from a projectile fired from the Hagia Sophia.

By then, it was clear the city was going to fall regardless. The city was aflames in many areas, and the defenders more or less fled the walls, terrified by the sheer weight of the bombardment. Finally, the daemon prince strode forward on his two hooves. Bellowing a large roar, the prince roared, "Come out here cowards. At least face me before my glorious city crumbles!"

The Despot walked forward. Power crackled about him as he begun to summon his psychic and alchemical powers. Runes of power were activated as his sword seethed with energy. The daemon prince charged, swinging his huge axe. He dwarfed the Despot, but the Despot was undeterred. He leaped aside as the monster swung his axe, but jumped up and slashed the daemon's arm with his sword. Black blood spilled and the daemon yelled in pain. He summoned his dark energies and spat out dark flames that set the area alight. The Despot swung his sword and steel met steel as the daemon parried. Surprised by the strength of the Despot, the daemon for a moment quailed, giving the Despot an opening. Grabbing the axe blade, the Despot used his alchemy, and shattered the axe blade, despite all the evil runes inscribed on the axe. Realising that he was simply outmatched, the daemon tried to flee and raised his wings. He did not get the chance; the Despot unleashed his psychic powers and tore the creature of the warp asunder, destroying his spirit entirely. At this, the army charged, destroying everything they saw, heretic and daemon alike. By the end of the day, the city was taken, and Thessaloniki was once more belonged to the Byzantine peoples.

Result: Thessaloniki taken, and the surrounding lands fall to the Despotate. A new city will be founded upon the location, after it has been cleansed with fire.

[PeZook]

Somewhere in Pogoria, north of Wawel

The airship floated gracefully, high over the forests. From such heights, the country below looked wild and untamed, with trees covering it as far as the eye could see. Nary a hamlet or even village could be seen with the naked eye.

However, this was but an illusion. Powerful binoculars revealed to the crew the forests were, in fact, inhabitated. They could see charcoal burning parties easily, lumber clearings and other signs of civilization. The captain would not risk landing anywhere in the woods, though: not only did it lack a suitable clearing, but the crew was terrified of what they could find below.

Two days since they entered Pogorian airspace, a mighty eagle began circling over the airship. A huge beast, obviously a product of strange magicks of this place, gazed upon the intruder leisurely, as if wondering what to do with it. Its claws could challenge any dragon, and - just in case - the airship's crew trained their guns on it, should the need arise to defend themselves. The beast left, eventually, flying due south.

More wonders presented themselves as time went by. On the third day, they risked stopping briefly near a small creek to acquire some fresh water, and observed forest nymphs play nearby, skipping from tree to tree, like whispers of the wind. Lavrov's crew had to restrain one of their own, who was enticed by the Nymphs' seducting call, having left his pocket watch aboard. The Russians retreated quickly to their skyship, so as to not tempt fate.

The very next morning, however, the forests gave way to the brilliant and mighty Vistula River, surrounded by fields. Thousands of farmers worked on them - with hand tools, Lavrov's crew noted, though the fields seemed bountiful and rich. Cobbled tracts connected hamlets, town and cities, which seemed well organized and decently wealthy.

By evening of the seventh day, the "Phoenix" set down near the city of Krakow, the seat of Pogorian power.

Wawel Castle



"What do you make of those arrivals, Chociebor?", the King asked, while advisors and court officials milled about the throne room, in anticipation of the Tsardom's delegation.

"I do not trust them, sire. They bear gifts, of course, probably in the hope of untying their hands near the Baltic coast."

"Sire, with all due respect to duke Chociebor's political shrewdness, we should look upon their gifts before passing judgement.", count Bogumir said and shot Chociebor a disapproving look.

"You just want to get your hands on their firearms, Bogumir.", Chociebor shot back, "We must take caution not to forego the interest of the Kingdom in exchange for mere trinkets."

The commotion died down, which signalled the gathered that the delegation was about to enter. After a moment, the Russians were led into the throne room, escorted by a ceremonial guard. The King's druid bodyguards, standing watch behind the throne, grimaced immediately upon sensing the Russian's runic pocket watches.

"Your highness!", Lavrov began, a little startled by the crowds gathered in the throne room. He was still uneasy after their trip, during which he used to stay awake at night, feeling a distinct chill crawl up his spine, "I bring word from Tsar Mikhail, ruler of the Red Tsardom. I was instructed to bring word to the Pogorian people that the Tsardom does not desire conflict, and seeks only peace with all its neighbors. To give weight to our words, we brought these gifts with us."

Lavrov's crew began opening the massive chests full of rich goods indeed. Chociebor noted, however, that they did not bring guns or other weapons with them. They distrust us, he thought.

Chociebor shot a glance across the room, towards the old witch sitting quietly in the corner. She had her eyes closed and muttered something under her breath.

"These are fine gifts indeed", King Radoslaw began, after the presentation was complete, "And we accept them gladly. Tell me, what does the Tsar desire of Pogoria?"

"Nothing but peace, your highness,so that both our people can live long and prosper."

Silence fell in the throne room. The King seemed torn - the right decision would not come easy for the young ruler. He leaned over towards Chociebor and exchanged a few words in a whisper. Chociebor then motioned to one of the druids, who walked out of the room. Lavrov stood there and watched, clutching his pocket watch - it was tucked safely inside the special pocket of his greatcoat.

The druid returned after a few moments, and again whispered something to the duke. Chociebor in turn reported to the King, who finally straightened and looked Lavrov in the eye.

"If such is the case, take these words to the Tsar: If the Tsardom truly wishes peace for all out people, it shall receive it from Pogoria. Let it be known forever, that no Pogorian soldier will ever spill Russian blood in anger."

A scribe crafted these words into a letter, which was presented to Lavrov, along with bountiful gifts from the Pogorian court: Pomeranian amber, fine drinking meads, samples of expensive wood, chests of mountain crystal, finely crafted swords, a druid healer's staff and a young eagle - Pogoria's symbol and crest.