Scarlet sands
Gold In The Dust
The newly completed Grand Lodge of the Golden Pyramid is built in northern Clisearn. It is a wonder - a grand edifice that reflects the wealth, power, and influence of the richest Conclave order. It is a symbol of the Prosperity and Pride not only of the order but of the Conclave as a whole. It is also something of a whispered promise to the recalcitrant inhabitants of Clisearn - those former Grendel who chose to remain when the Imperial Orcs claimed Mareave - that their prestige is recognised and assured.
It is unfortunate, perhaps, that barely a week after the work is completed, the Lodge is besieged by the Grendel.
Shortly after the Summer Solstice, the orcs of Attar sent their land-forces north out of Ayereed into the lands of the Brine Turtles sept. Welcomed with open arms, they swiftly seized Fleisardh and pushed further, toward the mithril mines of Clisearn. They continued to push through the Equinox, and the path to their eventual goal, to the Fundindelve led them inexorably to the weirwood gates of the Grand Lodge.
With the Iron Gulls leading the Storm Sharks and the Brine Turtles north toward the mithril mine, it falls to the Naguerro to seize the wealth of the Golden Pyramid. Former Lasambrian orcs, the Naguerro were once known as furious warriors led by their witches and shaman. Rescued from certain death at the hands of the Iron Confederacy in what is now Arbonne, the Salt Lords have nurtured a fierce Fidelity among this sept, showering them with gifts of land and wealth. They have repaid Fidelity in kind, and it is hard to imagine that this disciplined army that surrounds the approaches to the Grand Lodge is the same band of rough bandits that fled the western Bay. It is easy to forget that once upon a time the Naguerro were fierce sailors, a major thorn in the side of the people of Sarvos. Under the careful cultivation of the Salt Lords, it seems that they are reclaiming their heritage just as their cousins in Hierro and Corazón have rebuilt their own pride with the aid of the Jotun.
Regardless, the siege is remarkably mannered. When the Naguerro arrive, they do not attack immediately. They block entry to the Lodge, and give the Imperial citizens within a long night to ponder the future. Then a small contingent of orcs, hands open, requests parley. The request has the weight of a demand - there's little chance the Grand Lodge could survive a concerted attack from an entire army. A small group of Order members is put together, to speak with the delegation from the Grendel, before the gates of the Lodge's palatial gardens.
The Naguerro contingent is led by an unmistakable Wind Lord; a powerful and respected magician who nonetheless bears the marks of the Naguerro. Wind Lord Ivárruri Naguerro has been granted leave by the Salt Lords to deal with the Grand Lodge of the Golden Pyramid as she sees fit. After sage advice from certain of her fellow Wind Lords, she has chosen to attempt a diplomatic solution. Or, rather, to offer an opportunity to avoid losing everything by instead giving up... well, a frankly eye-watering tithe in money, crystal mana, or lore, to be paid each season.
"Call it rent," says Wind Lord Ivárruri wryly. In return, the order will maintain its presence in Clisearn; will be free to trade with the Grendel and the people of Beoraidh if they feel they can do so under Imperial law; and will secure free passage for labourers and merchants to Beoraidh and thus back into the Empire. "Also," she points out, "It would be a shame to see this beautiful mansion burnt to the ground when you have invested so much in it."
It is not lost on the Imperial magicians that through the entire presentation - it is a little one-sided to call it a negotiation - Wind Lord Ivárruri is flanked by two heralds of the Autumn realm - an observer from the City of Gold and Lead and an advisor from the City of Bar and Bond. They do not speak much, but there's little doubt they are keen to see the Grand Lodge defended.
Ivárruri is at least peripherally aware of the workings of the Conclave - no doubt thanks to her supernatural allies - and does not expect an immediate response. Yet she warns that her patience, and that of the Salt Lords, is finite. She expects a decision to be made during the Winter Solstice, and until then, the Naguerro will continue to control access to the Lodge. "After all," she says philosophically, "There is no finer symbol of dominion than the ability to destroy."
The Naguerro are as good as their word, securing the vicinity of the Lodge and showing every sign of being ready to strike decisively against the Lodge should there be any funny business. Winged Messengers are dispatched to Order members, and those besieged within the walls at least live out the following weeks in the lap of luxury.
Silver on the Mountain
The siege of the Fundindelve is nowhere near as civilised as that led by the Naguerro. The Iron Gulls, the Storm Sharks, and especially the Brine Turtles press the limited defences of the great mithril mine hard. They strike swiftly and surely in an attempt to overwhelm the defences. Imperial Orc settlers are driven back toward Eoradal, but many decline to abandon Clisearn, creating a temporary armed camp around the entrances to the mines. They work with the human miners - many Imperial Orcs still make it a point of honour not to work mines, and this is an Imperial concern rather than a national one. Many of the labourers here are Marchers trained in the depths of the Singing Caves and no stranger to defending against barbarian aggression. Their stubbornness sees them fight alongside their Unshackled fellows to hold on to the mine in the face of nearly overwhelming force.
The Iron Gulls are veterans of a dozen clashes with the Empire, more than a match for the desperate defenders at the Fundindelve. Experienced siege engineers, they are unlikely to be slowed by the makeshift barricades erected by the miners. Yet they are also taking extra care to ensure that no damage comes to the mine workings; it would be less than ideal to claim the mines and their mithril stockpiles only to then have to spend months digging them out of the side of a collapsed mountain.
As they bring more and more of Clisearn under their control, General Ansleah of the 'Gulls dispatches messengers to the citizens of the region, especially the Adahr, the Marr and the Tholdie. In this, the General perhaps overplays their hand; they make barely veiled demands for a show of Fidelity; for supplies and troops to bolster the 'Gulls and their efforts to liberate Mareave. These "requests" go over very poorly with the former Grendel; within a week the sorcerous Savurn Marr has made surreptitious contact with the Golden Pyramid members in the Grand Lodge asking what their plans are and falling just shy of suggesting that the former Wind Lord and their family at least is considering jumping ship to support the Empire if presented with a compelling enough case...
While his approach to the recalcitrant orcs of Clisearn is misjudged, elsewhere General Ansleah is much more cautious - and not just out of a concern for the mines. The Grendel captains know that the element of surprise only serves an invader so far. The Empire will surely respond to their aggression in Mareave. The main question is whether they will be able to free up sufficient forces from the other theatres they are engaged in this season or not.
Flies in the Honey
Seventh Wave! Our time has come to finish our long standing work. We return to Mareave with virtue in our hearts and our allies to our sides. We stand as the strongest army in the Empire, we are a beacon in this Empire. Push to Mareave. Let our friends and allies the Imperial orcs know that we will not let invaders take our homes and our lives.
Wildfyre, General of the Seventh WaveTowerjacks, we will remember when the Imperial Orcs rallied to Holberg to lift the siege. Remember that Reckoning as you armour yourselves and make a steady conquest to drive the Grendel from Imperial Land.
Gabriel Barossa, General of the TowerjacksHeroes of the Winter Sun, we have fought hard to break the hold of slavery over the Sarangrave but now we march south to defend our own lands. Sweep across Mareave in a balanced attack and ensure the homes we are building and not destroyed before the hearthfires can be lit. We claimed these lands once, now let our virtuous cry ring out again as we drive the Grendel back to their borders and prove that we hold to our bonds and defend the lives we seek to inspire.
Skywise Rykana, General of the Winter Sun
The answer to the Generals' question is delivered sooner rather than later; news of a significant force of Imperial soldiers entering Mareave through the Apulian Way explodes across the territory. Three armies, with the Winter Sun in the vanguard, come down through Icarion to Eoradal with their allies, and the fight for Mareave begins.
The 'Sun are fresh from fighting the Druj in the Sarangrave. Having marched south into Zenith, they joined up with the Towerjacks and together braved passage through madness-haunted Spiral. No army wishes to spend longer than necessary beneath the oppression hanging over the League territory; they paused briefly at Ballaghadruh as guests of the castellan, then moved as swiftly as possible through Apstrus to the Apulian Way. Those nights they were forced to spend in the accursed hills and plains have taken an inevitable toll. Night terrors and dark moods are the least of it - the grim power of the Black Plateau is ever-present. At night League and Imperial Orcs musicians are encouraged to try and outdo each other to try to keep the malign influence at bay.
At the mouth of the Apulian Way, they meet with the Seventh Wave who have made excellent time along Carstag's Way, taking advantage of the mithril-woven hostelries along its length to minimize their exposure to the oppressive atmosphere. Together they march through the pass into the arid hills of Icarion.
Even as Winter approaches, Mareave remains hot and dry. Whatever mud still lingers from the Sarangrave and passage through sodden Proceris soon turns to dust and falls away. There is little water in this parched land; outside of Clisearn and Fleisardh it is only thanks to the Great Aqueduct at Eoradal that any crops are able to survive in this near-desert.
With the Empire's soldiers comes the power of Imperial magic. In the foothills of the north-eastern peaks, in Nadir, the drake-hunters are startled by the appearance of six squat towers of black basalt, topped with ramparts of silver. They bring with them an unnatural chill that provides welcome relief to Imperial Orcs more familiar with the alpine climate in Skarsind. From the fortress issues a legion of warriors with the aspect of great white bears, each bound in mithril harness and armed with axe and shield. They are soldiers from the demesne of the Queen of Ice and Darkness and they join the marching armies as they pass through Nadir bound for the south.
The Imperials make for the growing town that has sprung up in the shelter of the aqueduct. At Eoradal they prepare for their offensive against the orcs of the Broken Shore. Many of the soldiers are taken aback by what awaits them; walls of black granite have sprung up around the burgeoning town, connecting minarets of bone-white stone and metal. The walking dead - skeletal warriors of human and orc stock - guard the ramparts, wrapped in blackened steel, and the approach of the Imperial armies is heralded by the howling of ox-sized white wolves that stalk the open ground. The Basalt Citadel of the Tomb King, of the Lord Sorin, has been conjured here out of the ruins of the old Skouran town. It's presence has helped hearten the defenders here, and impressed the independent orc clans that cluster around the place - even the cynical Uthni cannot deny that the magical citadel is impressive.
The black citadel has drawn interest from the engineers working on Ruicraic's Redoubt as well. The construction proceeds apace, and while the Imperial armies prepare to face the barbarians several of the Towerjacks are invited to inspect the work being done on the eastern castle. Work is nearly complete; the new fortification will be finished in time for the Winter Solstice provided that the Grendel do not manage to push north into Eoradal. Some of the orc builders mention to their League peers that the Uthni are grudgingly coming round to the idea that perhaps the Imperial Orcs are not as full of hot air as they first assumed. If Imperial forces can drive the Iron Gulls and the rest back into Ayereed it can't help but prompt a fundamental shift in the attitude of the Eoradal orcs to the Empire.
When the Empire's armies leave the shelter of Sorin's walls to begin their battle for Mareave, a battalion of skeletal warriors and magical white wolves accompany them. Perhaps even more significantly, a warband of Uthni youths silently join the Winter Sun to follow them south. The problem with the Uthni and the families that look to them is that they do not believe that the Imperial Orcs are here to stay, or that they will come back in the event their dominion is challenged. It seems that recent events have gone a long way toward challenging that belief. It is not a wholesale endorsement - and it is clear some of the Uthni are unhappy that their young warriors want to fight the Grendel - but it is perhaps a heartening sign nonetheless. These youths demonstrate a significantly more mercenary spirit than some Imperial orcs are entirely comfortable with, wanting to know when they will be paid their share of the Imperial Guerdon. Members of the Sannite sept make a particular point of befriending and welcoming these new warriors. They have a shared heritage and hear the same ancestors after all. There is no doubt that of all the Unshackled septs they best understand where these would-be reavers are coming from and the opportunity they represent.
Into Clisearn
To Clisearn, then, where the wealthy and privileged Grendel families of Mareave once held court, far from the cramped quarters and stink of Beoraidh. They have little affection for the Empire, but are equally unfriendly and resentful of their fellow Grendel who left them behind when Imperial forces conquered Mareave. The fact that on their return General Ansleah has disrespected them has certainly not strengthened their fidelity to their former countryfolk - quite the contrary.
There is a sizable welcoming committee to meet the Winter Sun, the Towerjacks, and the Seventh Wave when they cross into Clisearn. The Brine Turtles and the Iron Gulls, besieging Fundindelve, receive the Imperial advance alongside the zealous warriors of the Storm Sharks. The latter seem bent on recreating the deeds of their ancestor - Rucraic the Storm Lord - with audacity and cunning that is notable even for the Grendel. The iron fist of General Ansleah keeps the daring of the Storm Sharks in check - just about - but they are eager to test themselves against the Winter Sun and the Seventh Wave in particular.
Both sides favour a measured approach to the war; the Highborn and the Imperial Orcs take more risks than the Grendel but even they balance the desire for victory against the lives it will cost to achieve it. All three Imperial armies have fought here before, having helped to claim Clisearn from the Grendel during the initial invasion. As Clisearn fell, so fell Mareave, and in a way that remains true. With Beoraidh insisting on neutrality, backed up by the patronage of the Sarcophan Delves, the Grendel cannot threaten the arid northern regions.
At first the battle balances on a knife-edge, but as the day draws on it becomes apparent that the Empire has the upper hand. Between the magical allies conjured from the Summer and Winter realms and more than seven thousand troops lead by independent captains, the Broken Shore armies are heavily outnumbered. General Ansleah rages as they are forced to sound the retreat; with the Storm Sharks covering their withdrawal they pull back to the south ceding the Fundindelve. The Empire's soldiers are greeted with a mighty cheer from the miners, and they ride that wave in pursuit of the retreating barbarians.
When news comes of the fighting to the north, Wind Lord Ivárruri somewhat regretfully curtails the negotiations with the Golden Pyramid. The Naguerro move to meet the retreating Grendel armies but are careful to leave a contingent behind to ensure the Imperials trapped in the Lodge do not make the mistake of trying to leave just yet. While Ivárruri may have represented the civil, diplomatic, political face of the Broken Shore, the Naguerro warriors themselves are as furious and deadly as ever. Bolstered with Night magic, the former Lasambrians throw themselves into the fray with glee, shouting the name of Naguerro as they try to hold back the Imperial tide.
In the end, it makes only a little difference. Barely a week after the Naguerro left the Grand Lodge, the Broken Shore armies are marching south. The forces the Naguerro left behind are forced to retreat with them by the approach of the Towerjacks, and in short order the Golden Pyramid palace is secured and protected from Grendel counter-attack.
The pattern repeats itself; the Broken Shore armies try to break the Empire's armies, to push them back. The Empire holds, and presses the barbarians and the battle lines shift before the Grendel are forced to retreat toward Fleisardh. One by one the estates of the Adahr, then the Marr, and finally the Tholdie are brought back into Imperial hands. They are no more welcome than they were the first time, but there is a kind of fatalism in the reception of these orcs. Regan Tholdie complains bitterly about the damage their orchards suffer when the Seventh Wave drive off the Brine Turtles warriors camping around the family villa. Devan Adahr talks about demanding compensation from the Towerjacks and the Iron Gulls alike. Their complaints ring a little hollow; what is notable is that few of the former Grendel living in Clisearn choose to accompany the Broken Shore armies as they retreat south.
Reach Exceeding
In the end it becomes apparent that the Grendel reach has exceeded their grasp. Mile by mile they are pushed out of Clisearn, forced back into the Brine Turtle lands. The Empire follows them step for step. The fighting does not end at the border but continues into Fleisardh. The Brine Turtles in particular become desperate, fighting more and more recklessly even as the other three barbarian armies become more conservative - more resigned to the reality of losing their foothold in Mareave.
The Empire and its allies build on their advantage, and as the Winter Solstice approaches the Broken Shore armies are pulled up around the town of Fioroult, and the great freshwater lake there. If things remain as they are, there's no doubt the Grendel will be forced to abandon their attempt to reclaim Mareave. Without serious reinforcements they are unlikely to hold on to Fleisardh if the Empire keeps up the pressure.
Any potential Imperial victory brings with it the difficult question of what to do about the Brine Turtles - the sept not the army. They don't seem inclined to flee their holdings in the south of Mareave, but they are clearly going to offer succour and support to any future invasion of the territory. They still send their warriors to fight under the banners of the Salt Lords, and that army at least, will never accept that Fleisardh is in Imperial hands.
The tally of the dead indicates that the fighting here has been bloody indeed. Near two thousand Imperial soldiers have been lost in the slow drive through Clisearn into Fleisardh. Estimates suggest that the Broken Shore forces have suffered comparable losses. A lot of blood spilled for control of Mareave, and while the Empire has the upper hand at the moment there is many a slip twixt cup and lip as the Marcher miners might contend.
Game Information
- The Empire has driven the Broken Shore forces out of Clisearn and is three-tenths of the way towards securing Fleisardh
- Beoraidh remains neutral in the fight between Grendel and the Empire
- Completion of the Golden Pyramid Grand Lodge has removed the Uncooperative quality from Clisearn
- Completion of Ruicraic's Redoubt has removed the Uncooperative quality from Eoradal
The Empire has won a significant victory in Mareave, driving the Grendel armies out of Clisearn and establishing a foothold in Fleisardh. Their successes have gone a long way toward convincing the cynical and the selfish independent orcs of Mareave that perhaps the Empire is here to stay after all. Along with the completion of the Golden Pyramid Grand Lodge and the fortification of Ruicraic's Redoubt, this has removed the uncooperative quality from both Clisearn and Eoradal. There is still a way to go before the independent orcs there seek to join the Unshackled, but the first steps have been made.
The Brine Turtles sept remains opposed to the Empire. The Uncooperative and Under Threat qualities persist in Fleisardh; there is no love for the Imperial Orcs or the Empire among the sept.
Beoraidh remains neutral; there has been no effort to offer support to either side in the ongoing battle here. Both Imperial and Grendel merchants are welcome at the port however; Salt Lord Ehsan is not playing favourites.
Further Reading
- Mareave
- Lines of care and sorrow - 387YE Autumn Wind of War detailing the Grendel invasion of Mareave
- Treaty with Beoraidh