Where the slow river flows

The Drakes' drum sounds, calling the yeofolk of the Marches to war.

Blood of the Wanderer

After the Autumn Equinox, a great host of Jotun crossed Odd’s Way into Mitwold. Fifty thousand or more warriors with two cohorts of the Knights of Glory. They took the Pride of the Marches by surprise, the only defenders the garrison of Forte Fidelis. Those Imperial soldiers committed to the Marches were in Bregasland, fighting to reclaim that conquered territory. Everyone was taken by surprise. They washed across Oddmire, conquered Meade March and the city of Meade, washed into the Meadows before their assault hit its high water mark.

Then during the Winter Solstice itself, Stephen of Sarcombe and his human yegarra launched an assault against the town of Wayford. Imperial heroes responded, passing through the Sentinel Gate to bring an end to his treachery once and for all. In the end though they were unable to save the kidnapped Wayford Wanderers hero Jim Moor; unable to stop him giving support to the heirs of Red Walder; unable to bring Stephen to justice. Despite heroic efforts, Jim was murdered at the same spot magistrates had once executed Red Walder; and where the death of the self-styled bandit king helped secure the prosperity of the Marches the slaughter of the beloved foot-the-ball player has put cracks in the morale of Mitwold.

The heroes managed to execute Bill of Beatsdown, the son of Red Walder, but that death only stoked the grudge-fires in the spirits of his sister Jill Longlegs, his childhood friend Jack Poultice, and his surrogate father figure Dusty Cobb. Of the three it is hard to say who will prove to be the most dangerous; the clever gossip who knows everyone’s business; the vicious thug who counts coin higher than any virtue; or the fallen monk angry at Empire and Synod alike. Together they are a dangerous combination, and now they are lose in Mitwold with weapons and armour provided by the traitor of the Mournwold.

My Drakes, it is time. We must return to Mitwold. We return to the Wayford, I'll cut down Jim Moor, bury him with his kit and my own football. We are to draw the line at Wayford with a Solid Defence, an opportunity made possible because Coal Carefoot ensured Bree Shaw's last act was to resupply the Drakes. We will bask in the warm Sun joining us from the East. Our older siblings heard our plea and come not as strangers but as kin when Black Roses Bloom here, let them remember who stood when Mitwold called, Our soil their Glory!

William Guildenstern, General of the Drakes

My Soldiers, I will make this simple. We march into Mitwold for a Strategic Defence. Hold the line in Wayford, it cannot fall. When the invaders meet our steel, leave none alive to do so again. Keep an eye open for Stephen of Sarcombe. I promise 10 Thrones to whomever brings me that vermin alive so I might wring his neck with my own hands. That traitor cannot be allowed to survive battle with us again. Stephen must Die.

Jack Ashton, General of the Tusks

Grey go the days with their grinding strain, Small are their victories, shadowed with pain; But bright is the battle-line that banishes fear, And hearts are made whole when the war-cry is near. There stand the shield-lines, steadfast and strong, Helms all a-glimmer, spears set in throng; Blade-song rises where bold battlers stand, And the field is made fair by their fate-forged hand. We shield the folk, spare the untried and weak, Let no sly scavenger plunder or sneak; No hand shall dishonour the dead where they lie, Nor trouble their rest ’neath the wide watching sky. These are our war-ways, our word and our will; Beautiful the battle-days, fierce and yet fair still- Not for the scarecrow that shrinks from the fray, But the bold who break forth where the war-banners sway.

Iron Osric, General of the Green Shield

My last orders to the Valiant Pegasus fills me with loyalty and pride. We defend with our siblings from the nations whilst we do what the Valiant Pegasus does best, tending to our brothers and sisters injured whilst we hold against our enemies. You my army have inspired, General Lucifor.

Lucifer, General of the Valiant Pegasus

Radiant Knights of Dawn, our Sun may rise in the East, but we set our shields in the West. The Golden Sun shines where the Empire needs it most. We march with the beat of the Drakes drum, we do not come as strangers, but as kin. Guard the fields as you would your own name. The land remembers who bled for it. Let the soil drink its fill. Let the black roses bloom. Let our solid defence stand as strong as any oath sworn by a friend, by a brother. Our loyalty to this Empire and those in need will lead us to victory as a shining example of a new Dawn. Their soil, our glory.

Lord Daemon Mortére, General of the Golden Sun

And of course Stephen escaped, along with many of this troops, to remain a thorn in the side of the Marchers and the southern Empire. His fury and bitterness at the loss of his partner has curdled into something truly monstrous; he has become a man who does not quibble over murdering innocents to achieve his goals. A man who wields terror and violence as a weapon against his enemies. While the Jarl-of-Jarls, and many of the Jotun champions, have clearly come to view Stephen as a liability, the yegarra is not without his supporters. There have always been a few Jotun who pay only lip service to their ideals, and to them Stephen seems a fine example of what can be achieved when one puts winning above the archaic, idealistic demands of honour. They’ve seen him triumph over the Empire time and again, and while his methods may be blood-soaked and dishonourable, one cannot argue with results.

As the Solstice ends, and the slow climb to Spring begins, this is Mitwold then. Riven by chaos, grieving, angry, afraid of what the future might hold. The people of Oddmire and Meade in thrall to the Jotun conquerors, the folk of the Meadows and the Downs worried that they might be next.

Imperial Aid

Nobody doubted for one moment that the Drakes would return to Mitwold to fight the invading Jotun, and come they do. Out of Bregasland, through Green March and the outskirts of Alderly, over the Chalkdowns to the Golden Downs and a rendezvous with the other Imperial armies come to drive the Jotun out. With them, some ten thousand force under arms of Imperial captains - Marcher folk of course, but next to them are sworn allies, a cohort of knights from Dawn, Highborn guardians, and heroes of Wintermark among others. To meet this sea of red and black are the Tusks, of course, but also the Golden Sun, the Valiant Pegasus, and the Green Shield. At their sides, the garrison of Forte Fidelis.

As the armies gather, so do the clouds. Last season saw bitter Winter snow, but after the Solstice the weather turns unexpectedly. The corpse-blue sky of late Winter is already beginning to give way to the softer blues of Spring, promising the first life-giving rains. They fall early in Mitwold this year, and every drop resonates with the healing power of Spring magic. No injury that it is not mortal will fester here; even dire wounds will heal overnight provided the patient is able to sup fresh water in their sickbed. Those who recognise such things - and there are stargazers in the Marches, even if they do not give themselves airs and graces - say that the Fountain, which Marchers sometimes call the Green Willow watches over Mitwold as the armies march to war. Perhaps they are right; those who have fought where the Rivers of Life flow say that there is something different this time, and soldiers speak of strange dreams of a figure who whispers in their dreams of birth and growth and the surety of Spring following Winter.

The Imperial strategy is twofold. The Jotun must be denied any more purchase in Mitwold; the bulk of the Empire’s soldiers hold the line against the invaders. The Drakes and the Golden Sun set their standards in the good earth, ready to do what it takes to hold the barbarians. The Tusks prepare to meet the advance of the Jotun, ready to move where they can best harry the enemy and turn them back. The Valiant Pegasus stands beside their allies of Dawn and the Marches, swiftly deploying their field hospitals and ensuring every cohort of the Empire has healers and physicks ready to tend the fallen and ensure as few lives as possible are lost in the defence.

At the same time the Green Shield pushes forward, to engage the enemy and take back the land they have already stolen, to drive them west back into Bregalsand. Yet they also fight with honour - not to shepherd their allies but to leave the Jotun in no doubt that they are honourable opponents. They are better than Stephen of Sarcombe, murderer and despoiler. With them come a heavily armoured host of the Knights of Glory, conjured from the demesne of the Lady of Pennants. Fearsome commander Elodian the War-smith leads her warband of rune-armoured hammersmiths. They send their enemies sprawling with irresistible blows of their greathammers, all the while singing battle-hymns of glory and heroism to inspire the Winterfolk they strive alongside.

Ready for what may come, for the great host of the Jotun that must come, the forces of the Empire await the breaking storm.

Stormbreak

The storm comes, but it is perhaps not the one the defenders of the Marches had anticipated. The Jotun invaders, the great host of them, have pulled back west already. Yet the barbarians have not abandoned Mitwold. In their place come the three armies of the Lasambrian-Jotun - the covetous Corazón, the zealous Escuta, the disciplined Hierro. Alongside the Hierro marches a warband of Summer warriors, lead by the lion-maned warlord Kore in scarlet armour. His troops are fantastical swift-footed knights with the lower bodies of great cats, crimson knights who use their short lances to great effect on the flatlands of Mitwold, devastating their enemies with a thundering charge and then laying about themselves with spear and claw. The hammersmiths of Elodian meet their assault head-on, revelling in the chance to test themselves against their cousins of the Summer realm alongside their Winterfolk allies.

While the Escuta and Hierro seek to push forward, looking to secure the Jotun hold over the Meadows, the Corazón fall back into their traditional ways. They look to plunder the farms and villages of the Marches, more interested in the loot they can claim than in fighting Imperial troops or pressing barbarian claim to the Marches. Not to say that they are any less dangerous; when they encounter Imperial defenders they fight hard to overcome them retreating only when it is clear they will claim no booty this day. Even with the Ice Fishers of Ldansk alongside them, the Corazón have their work cut out for them - but they have almost as many successes as they have failures and slowly but surely they gather a great store of stolen wealth not only from the Meadows but from Meade March and Oddmire as well.

It’s clear the Lasambrians are expecting tough opposition; the Hierro set the pace with a slow, almost cautious strategy looking to secure the gains the Jotun have already made in the Meadows and to ensure the Empire gains no foothold in Meade March. The Escuta, showing a little of the wildness that beats in their soul, strike sporadically looking to be as unpredictable as possible forcing the larger Imperial force to spread itself thin, looking to balance their greater numbers with quick, agile skirmishes. Yet for all their speed, they are careful to avoid direct confrontation, preferring to retreat than allow themselves to be cornered or forced to fight.

The barbarians test the Imperial defence over and over, but are unable to make headway. The cordon of iron and blood thrown up across eastern Mitwold is too sturdy for them to penetrate. As the weeks drag on it looks as if this engagement will be a stalemate… until the Battle of Wayford takes the barbarians by surprise.

Daemon Mortere, General of the Golden Sun

William Guildenstern, General of the Drakes

Jack Ashton, General of the Tusks

Iron Osric, General of the Green Shield

The Battle of Wayford

This is not our land, but we fight for virtue of our cousins as they answer their call of honour. Let Loyalty be our battlecry, let Pride in our fellows be our shield, and let Ambition be the blade we set against the throat of the Marches.

Eahgoh Blackhammer, General of the Hierro

The future lies before us, and we must not blink as it turns its bright gaze upon us. Waste no lives, for the Empire is cunning in the traps it lays, yet do not fear the battle to come. The virtuous godhi speak of Ambition, and of Pride, and we know we walk in the footsteps of our ancestors.

Lefsnir Red-armed, General of the Escuta

Take everything that is not nailed to the ground, and show the Ice Fishers of Ldansk that we are the best at what we do.

Meketh of the Flames, General of the Corazón

Built on the southern borders of the Meadows, where the river Meade flows slow, and shallow, and wide, the market-town of Wayford is a centre for trade and travel. Old, sometimes seen as sleepy, but rich nonetheless. The raid of Stephen of Sarcombe first made the people wary, then it made them angry. When the Hierro push forward, they find the garrison of Forte Fidelis already in position, a rough militia of yeomen farmers and retired Marcher soldiers lined up alongside them. The commanders of the Tusks have anticipated the Lasambrian strategy, and prepared their defences, Along with soldiers of the Drakes who grew up around Wayford, backed up by Highborn physicks and Dawnish knights, they wait in ambush a little way down the river. As the Hierro and the Escuta cross the ford that gives the town its name, the trap is sprung.

As the defenders of Mitwold attack from upstream, as the garrison and the militia hold the town, the Green Shield pour down from the north. The Lasambrian forces are caught between them, half on one side of the river and half on the other. They rally quickly - many are veterans of the plains of Segura and the hills of Kahraman and they know better than to underestimate the Empire - but they are at a clear disadvantage. At first it looks as if the battle will be entirely one-sided - but then the Ice Fishers of Ldansk raise their banners and come crashing across the Meade north of the ford to attack the flank of the Green Shields. These Jotun are no strangers to fighting in situations like these, as adept at navigating the warmer rivers of the south as they are the ice-floes and frigid lakes of their icy home far to the north. In their wake come the Corazón, more eager to get to the rich pickings represented by Wayford then they are to engage the Winterfolk army.

The river is shallow, but fighting in water is a challenge for orc and human alike. The river itself flows with life, but it heals wounds; it offers no protection against drowning. Foes who fall in the Meade struggle to keep their heads above the surface. A bitter irony, to drown in these life-giving waters; one that too many soldiers come to understand too late. If not for the Vigilant Pegasus on the one side, and the caution of the Escuta on the other, the death toll might have been grim indeed - especially for the Jotun fighting alongside the Lasambrians, who fear death by drowning more than any other fate.

The riverwater churns with mud and blood and then explodes. The first geyser erupts in the middle of a fight between heavy-armoured Hierro and Marcher pikemen, showering both with heavy droplets of pure water. Instantly, all injuries heal, and the warriors on both side are filled with an almost unendurable burst of vitality. Then another waterspout, and another. One soldier is flung twenty feet into the air when the river waters by his feet surges upwards - they land with cries of pain, shattered spine… and then the healing waters restore them as fully as they had broken them. Fountains of magical healing water burst wherever the fighting is at its fiercest, and where their waters touch they heal everything - war wounds and terrible injuries alike - restoring health and vigour and allowing warriors on their last legs to keep fighting. Blood flows and flows, fatal amounts, but almost every time the waters heal the soldiers and keep them fighting. The battle between barbarian and Imperial becomes the worst kind of meatgrinder; the only way to keep the enemy down is to execute them or to hold them beneath the water so they drown. Scuffles break out up and down the riverbanks, warriors on both sides abandoning any pretence of strategy to wrestle their foes beneath the water and flood their lungs with water.

The Green Shields sound their horns first, calling their warriors back before the conflict can descend into true barbariasm. The Hierro follow suit minutes later; not everyone responds in a timely fashion. As the two sides separate, the fountains of life subside. The barbarians on the wrong side of the river take the opportunity to fight free of the defenders, retreating across to where their fellows are forming up. Arrows fly - from both sides - but those who fall in the river pierced by wooden shafts quickly rise again thanks to the curse of Spring.

Across the river, the two sides stare at each other, as the bodies of the fallen float downstream between them in their dozens, Imperial and barbarian alike, many too mutilated to be recognisable. One final indignity; the dead are already beginning to decompose as if weeks were passing in mere minutes. A quick truce is negotiated to allow both sides to try and hook the fallen from the river, the horror of a battle that might never have ended, sharp in the minds of orc and human alike.

Night falls, and the two forces stay on their own side of the river. The next day, the Lasambrian Jotun pull back. They know now that they are outnumbered, and even without the cursed river battle they would not have held the day. The Corazón at least are happy; they at least have done well out of the confusion looting the outskirts of the town. In particular, they have made off with many foot-the-ball trophies the Wayford Wanderers won over the years, including that kept as a memorial to their terrible last game when so many died at the hands of the heralds of Siakha.

Aftermath

The battle of Wayford is not the last engagement of the war in Mitwold; far from it. The Lasambrians are chastened, but they do not abandon their ambitions. Perhaps they are a little more careful around the River Meade, leery of whatever dangerous water spirits possess its water. Twice more, though, they seek to cross from the Jotun-dominated side of the Meadows to the free side, but they are at pains to use the bridges that have stood for three centuries or more. Twice more, they are beaten back.

At the same time, the Green Shields and their rune-armoured allies from the Summer realm use their momentum to push the orcs hard. They seize on their caution around the river, pursuing whenever they leave an opening or an unguarded flank. Engagement by engagement, the Winterfolk drive the Lasambrian Jotun back. A few Imperial warriors who perhaps should know better take to hurling buckets of water toward the Lasambrians during these scattered engagements, mocking their caution of the River Meade. The Winterfolk commanders have sharp words to say about such behaviour, and it mostly tails off. Mostly.

Whenever the invaders are forced to retreat, the Tusks and the Drakes are there to hold what the Green Shield have taken. As the Spring Equinox gets closer, its clear to everyone that the Hierro and the Escuta can’t hold out in the Meadows. Perhaps its the terrain - too much of it is simply flat open ground and as they have demonstrated in Segura they are not at their best in such conditions. Perhaps its the fervour of the defence, the common folk of the Marches inspired by the Drakes, organised by Forte Fidelis, refusing to give any more ground to the invaders.

They retreat, out of the Meadows, but no farther. The Green Shield try to push into Meade March, but they encounter too stiff a resistance to make much headway. While the Lasambrians can’t face the might of the Empire alone, even with their allies the Green Shield can’t face three entire armies by themselves and hope for more than limited victory. Yet even a limited victory, in such conditions, is still something of a triumph.

As the Equinox dawns, the Empire controls the Meadows and both Downs, the Jotun-Lasambrians hold Meade March and Oddmire. The Green Shield have made some small progress toward liberating Meade, but the city remains in the hands of the Jotun. The news that comes from Meade is not good - the Corazón have been through the place like butter through a goose. The Jotun who robbed the place last season were rank amateurs beside the orcs of the Lasambrian hills. At least, though, there has been no hint of an atrocity such as the one Stephen of Sarcombe planned.

As to Stephen himself… his warband has not been seen this season to the frustration of those who would see him brought to book for his crimes. It is too much to hope he has been executed by his own side. The general of the Tusks has placed a ten Throne bounty on his head, and that just adds to the enthusiasm of those who want to see him dead for what he has done not only to Jim Moor but to folk across the Marches whenever he has the chance. Indeed, there’s stories of friars supporting anyone prepared to make their grudge against the traitor concrete, to sanctify it with liao. The Valiant Pegasus in particular is concerned to hear of this, but in the confusion of battle there is little chance to investigate further.

Stephen himself might not be visible, but the ripples of his continued presence in Mitwold certainly are. It seems that he has been busy offering aid to the heirs of Red Walder - and they have been seen right enough. While Imperial armies fight to protect Mitwold, these cowards attack baggage trains and refugees alike, caring neither for the sanctity of the Marches nor for those who have already lost so much. The Golden Sun and the Valiant Pegasus drive the bandits off - they are in no position to face disciplined soldiers of the Empire - but where there are no soldiers the only defence is the militia organised by the garrison of Forte Fidelis and they are stretched to breaking. If the situation is allowed to continue, it’s anyone’s guess what the increasingly bold bandits - and their traitor patron - might try next.

For now though, Spring comes to the Marches and away from the battlefront, the rhythms of life reassert themselves. Ploughing, planting, planning for the year to come. As the last of the healing rains fall, green shoots begin to unfurl. Whatever else happens, it looks like this year will see a bumper harvest in Mitwold. Thirsty soil in the best soil, after all.

Game Information

• The Empire has driven the barbarians out of the Meadows, reclaiming the region
• Imperial troops are a tenth of the way towards liberating Meade March

The fighting this season has seen the Lasambrian Jotun held back from claiming any more of Mitwold, and thanks to the offensive orders of the Green Shields they have lost their foothold in that region. The Winterfolk army has pushed forward, beginning to take a foothold in Meade March. The barbarians still control that region, including the city of Meade, and the region of Oddmire. The Empire benefitted from its defensive tactics; estimates are hard given the Rivers of Life but it seems the barbarians suffered easily three times as many casualties as Imperial forces.

The Corazón have been engaged in plundering Mitwold, seizing whatever wealth they can get hold of. The Green Shield have been using the fight with honour order; while it does not impede the Corazón, the fact the Wintermark army has chosen to do so is obvious to everyone in the territory.

The battle at Wayford is the major engagement of this season, and is marked out by unpredictable magical effects. Marcher landscapers believe it was likely caused by an unexpected interaction between the constellation of the Green Willow and the powerful curse of Rivers of Life.

The heirs of Red Walder - the three would-be bandit chiefs who escaped from Imperial heroes at the Winter Solstice - are causing trouble in Mitwold. With support and weapons from Stephen of Sarcombe, they are taking every opportunity to raid baggage trains, attack travelers, and even assault small, outlying farms. At the moment their impact is not great - at least not on the people who aren't on the receiving end of their attacks - but there is the potential for serious problems in the future. As such, the regions of the Meadows, Maiden Downs and Golden Downs have all gained the Banditry quality representing the impact of their criminal actions.

Participation : Battle of Wayford

• Any character whose military unit participated in Mitwold this season may have been exposed to chaotic Spring magic
• A briar character can use this opportunity to enhance their physical and/or roleplaying trappings, and gain a temporary point of endurance in the process
• Any unlineaged human might use this opportunity to gain the briar lineage
• Red flowers are a very appropriate trapping for anyone who takes one of these options

The general of any armies in Mitwold, or anyone whose military unit supported one of the armies or reinforced the garrison of Forte Fidelis, may have fought at the Battle of Wayford. Those who did so may have been exposed to the wild healing curse that washed over the battlefield.

If your character has the briar lineage you may uset his as an opportunity to increase your physical trappings if you wish, such as by adding additional bark, or adding flowers. In the latter case red flowers are particularly appropriate. You may also choose to intensify one or more of your roleplaying trappings either permanently or for the duration of the Spring Equinox. In either case, any briar character who fought at the Battle of Wayford begins the Spring Equinox with an additional, temporary, point of endurance. This point is the first lost when you take an injury, and cannot be restored. It fades by the end of the Spring Equinox regardless.

Any human character who does not have lineage and fought at the Battle of Wayford alongside their military unit (or was a general of one of the armies involved) may take this opportunity to develop the Briar lineage as a result of being repeatedly healed by wild Spring magic. You will need to email plot@profounddecisions.co.uk before midnight on the 27th of May with your PID. You will need to physrep your trappings; in addition to bark the addition of red flowers is particularly appropriate for showing that you gained your lineage as a result of the battle. Be aware that lineage is generally a permanent change to your character so think carefully about the commitment before you choose to embrace it. Also bear in mind that characters who already have lineage will not develop it due to the waters of Wayford.

Participation : Holding a Grudge

• Any Marcher whose military unit supported the fighting in Mitwold may choose to have been inspired by the preaching of Friar Book
• Characters may choose to gain a hallowed item with an aura that clearly does not come from one of the seven virtues

Any Marcher character whose military unit supported an army in Mitwold, or who reinforced the garrison at Forte Fidelis, may have been motivated by a desire to defeat Stephen of Sarcombe. During the fighting, a friar going by the name of Book has been outspoken about the wrongs done to the Marches by Stephen and his fellow traitor yegarra and the stain on the nation that his continued survival represents. They alternate praise for the general of the Tusks with calls to action, and for those who have spoken to them privately afterward they are prepared to use their small personal supply of liao to help dedicate folk to the pursuit of Stephen.

Fair words won't bury grudges.

Marcher Proverb

Marcher characters can choose to take advantage of this and receive a hallowing on their weapon that will last for the coming year. To do so, you must email plot@profounddecisions.co.uk by midnight on the 27th of May and include your PID and indicate which of the following three motivations most underpins your desire to see Stephen of Sarcombe executed.

• You are angry that the guilty go unpunished, and want to see them brought to justice.
• You are prepared to pursue vengeance not only against Stephen but against anyone who wrongs “your people” (however you define that)
• You know that grudges are rooted in virtue, and that nobody should be shy about seeking retribution against criminals such as Stephen

Book talks seriously about the importance of settling grudges, something they say is rooted in the heart of the Marches. Criminals like Stephen need to be brought to justice, and the traitor has made this personal. He's murdered Marcher folk, and there has to be a reckoning for that. "There's two ways to bury a hatchet." as the Marcher proverb goes. Stephen of Sarcombe needs to get what's owed to him, Book says. Ideally in a way that gives anyone else thinking of harming good Marcher folk pause.

There is some concern that Book is preaching something that comes close to the "false virtue" of vengeance here. Openly bearing a hallow created using a spiritual power other than one of the seven may prove problematic. While the Synod has not proscribed false hallows, it has determined that preaching or promoting vengeance is a crime and its possible that might extend to Friar Book and his enthusiasm for Marcher grudges. On the other hand, as he points out, there's nothing new about the Marcher passion for ensuring those who wrong them, pay for it.

Participation : Pride and Loyalty

• Characters whose military unit supported the Drakes or the garrison of Forte Fidelis may partake of a form of spiritual inspiration
• Accessing this inspiration requires an anointing of either Loyalty or Pride
• The inspiration is stronger for Marcher characters but people from other nations still receive a benefit
• Military units who supported the Drakes, or reinforced the garrison of Forte Fidelis, may receive a special benefit

The Empire has taken steps on several battles to bolster the Pride and Loyalty of the Marcher armies, and while those efforts have been focused in Mournwold and Bregasland, the people of Mitwold are still heartened to see "their" army return to fight for them. The general of the Drakes has sworn powerful oaths to protect the people of "their" territory. The inspiration this act provides should not be underestimated.

Any Marcher character whose military unit supported either the Drakes or the garrison of Forte Fidelis this season may experience that inspiration if it suits their characterisation. As long as they have an anointing of Loyalty or Pride, they receive a bonus hero point during the Spring Equinox. This bonus increases their maximum number of hero points for the duration of the summit.

Any character who is not a Marcher may also receive a benefit but it is less intense. Instead of an increase to their maximum hero points for the summit, they receive a single temporary hero point which is lost once it is used - provided they have an appropriate anointing.

Note that the character does not have to start the event with the anointing of Pride or Loyalty. They can claim the benefit if they receive that aura in play provided it is a Marcher priest who leads the ceremony. In the event that they lose or change their anointing of Pride or Loyalty, the bonus hero point is lost and can't be regained during the summit.

Battle Opportunity

• A potential battle opportunity has been identified in Meade March

Imperial prognosticators making a study of the Sentinel Gate believe a major conjunction exists to allow Imperial heroes to strike into Meade March during the Spring Equinox. Indications are that a significant force of Corazón supported by warriors from the warband of the Ice Fishers of Ldansk are transporting some of the wealth looted from the city of Meade west toward the coastal town of Odd's End and, presumably, from there to Bregasland. The conjunction offers an opportunity to intercept this warband and perhaps recover the stolen treasures before they can be used by the Jotun.