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Ambition and audacity.

Apulian

The Imperial armies gather at the Court of the White Fountain, guests of the sentinels, before marching east to Spiral and the City of Nets. Four armies; the Golden Axe, the Towerjacks, the Seventh Wave, and the Winter Sun. For some of the soldiers, crossing back over into Spiral is a daunting prospect. There are veterans of the Battle of Solen's Doubt in each of the armies, especially the Towerjacks and the Winter Sun. They were there when the thing that lurks at the heart of Spiral roused itself to wakefulness.

The march is not pleasant, under the grim oppression that emanates from Screed. A cold wind sweeps down from the north, frosting bones and adding an extra touch of misery to the affair. Dreams are tormented by madness and horror, and it becomes standard practice to studiously not ask one's fellows “How did you sleep?” for fear they might tell you. The welcome at Apulian however is especially warm; orcs and humans alike seem almost embarrassingly pleased to see Imperial soldiers, most especially the Towerjacks. All the armies are made welcome, but the engineers of Holberg are of special interest to the new orc citizens of the League. For many of the former Grendel, this is the first time they have seen the armies of the Empire up close, without being in danger of being killed by them.

Despite the mithril workings that infuse many of the buildings of Apulian, nights are still dark and haunted for many of the soldiers. The spectre of the Black Plateau hangs over everything even here. The grim atmosphere goes beyond even the aura of oppression, however. Citizens are worried about Grendel reprisals, of course, but they are also worried about the Urizen rebels in Ankra and Cinion. The spires are packed full of magicians after all, and who knows what wickedness they might be able to work on their neighbours when the mood takes them? There are newly immigrated Holbergers and Sarvosi here fuelling the fires of concern with stories of the Blight and the Doom that befell their former homes a mere two years ago.

The armies do not plan to stay long; a few nights to recuperate from the march through the open, and for captains and officers to go over the strategy again. Then, to the sound of echoing cheers from many of the citizens of Apulian, they head south. More than twenty-five thousand soldiers of the Empire, taking the Apulian Way into Mareave.

Golden Axe, the time has come. We have rested and gathered our numbers. Now is the time to strike. We march with our allies of the Imperial Armies, Knights of the Summer Realm will also join us, as will a sea of banners from our military units. Let us march into Mareave and like the Vard, Take their land, take everything.

Belakov Zakharovich Prochnost, General of the Golden Axe

The time has come to act on the exemplary plan forged by my predecessor, Barachel; We march into Mareave in an overwhelming assault! Audacity has been recognised as a true instantiation of Virtue, so let us show the Grendel just how audacious we can be! Your aim is to show the Salt Lord of Mareave the value of virtue and bring them to the negotiating table on our terms. Ambition inspires, so let our audacious assault inspire this salt lord to re-evaluate the cost of their current allegiances. Rendezvous with our spy network in Mareave and let them show our armies a clear path to victory; we will show the Grendel that the Empire is not a docile target for reckless plunder.

Melkior of Balthazar’s Vineyard, General of the Seventh Wave

Rather than waiting for the Grendel to come to us, we shall demonstrate our ambition and audacity and take the fight to them. For the first time as a nation of five cities we go to war. Draw from the clarity of the master strategist and seize as much of Mareave as possible.

Natalia 'The Falcon' Barossa, General of the Towerjacks

Heroes of the Winter Sun, we have spent a season seeking our past but now we look to the future and strike out at the Grendel before they can light our coast ablaze. We match for Mareave to bloody the Grendel in their own lands, make contact with the Imperial spies in the territory before sweeping across the land in an overwhelming assault and teach these barbarians that they should never have challenged us again.

Skywise Rykana, General of the Winter Sun

The Golden Axe set the pace. The Grendel lands are ripe for conquest, and they are very keen to embrace the legacy of the Vard and take what can be taken. In addition to almost seven thousand Varushkans, most in heavy steel armour, there are nearly forty warbands led by Imperial captains. Most are from Varushka or Urizen, but there are a smattering of champions from other nations alongside them. Their numbers are almost matched by those of the proud fey warriors who fight alongside the Golden Axe. They are broad-shouldered figures with flashing eyes and both their shimmering, braided hair and their heavy metal armour glows with all the colours of the sun at dusk. They are armed with axes, and from shields and standards the insignia of the Queen of the Pennants roars over the battlefield. Their presence helps many of the Varushkan warriors endure the shadow that hangs over Spiral more readily than the troops of the other armies. Combined with their enthusiasm for conquest, this makes it perhaps inevitable that they are the first soldiers to set foot in Mareave in a very long time indeed.

Take Their Land

The other three armies enjoy the boons of Imperial magicians as well, the Clarity of the Master Strategist helping them coordinate their assault against the Grendel territory. Not since before the abortive attempt by Axos to invade Urizen during the reign of Emperor Nicovar has such an Imperial force been assembled and marched onto the Broken Shore, onto Attar.

This is a dry land. Similar in some ways to the arid grasslands of the Brass Coast but rockier, more broken. Northern Mareave is made up mostly of hills. Desolate, dry hills. Empty hills, for the most part. It becomes obvious fairly quickly that there are comparatively few settlements here, mostly mining villages inhabited by those who work the foothills of the mountains to the north. They have their defenders; a few put up a fight until they see the sheer number of Imperials arrayed against them.

More serious resistance comes from the Brine Turtles. One of the major septs of the Broken Shore, these orcs apparently have their homeland in the south of Mareave. They are well-armoured and heavily armed, well-disciplined, and they know the terrain well. They're supported by soldiers from the garrison of Beoradh itself, sent by Salt Lord Eshan. The Salt Lord does not take the battlefield themselves, and there is little suggestion that anyone actually likes them, but by all accounts they pay well and that's enough.

It becomes clear pretty quickly that these defenders are heavily outnumbered. They fight entirely defensively, trying to pick when and where they engage the Empire, and falling back whenever the weight of arms facing them becomes too heavy. Icarion falls, conquered by Imperial troops.

After that the fighting spills east and south. The Brine Turtles pull back to the shelter of the walls of Rathmonna – the largest settlement in the north-eastern hills, nestled between the mountains that rise north, east, and south. It has solid stone walls, but they are barely a fortress and no match for the Towerjacks. The town holds out for a fortnight, then the Grendel retreat south, and with them any hope of holding this region.

The inhabitants call it Nadir, and it is perhaps a fitting name. A low-point. There is precious little water here, and most springs happen to fall in the hunting grounds of packs of vicious drakes – whose numbers go some way perhaps toward explaining both the relative lack of settlements in the hills here, and the need for walls around Rathmonna.

While the Brine Turtles and the Salt Lord's soldiers retreat, the orcs here remain fiercely independent. They quickly scatter ahead of Imperial soldiers, but there's no sign of any of them surrendering. Some slaves are freed from the mines in Icarion, and from the settlements in Nadir, but it appears the majority of the population of northern Mareave is made up of free, independently minded, orcs. Not part of the Brine Turtle sept as such, not even necessarily Grendel as such, but happy to pay tithes to the Salt Lord in return for being left alone. Many are hunters; the rest are miners. They take to the hills, and they show little interest in coming down out of them.

They're also pretty clearly not a threat to the Imperial forces as they secure their hold on the northern hills.

No Welcome in Eoradal

The Empire still does not have a completely reliable map of Mareave. Even as the Empire invades, however, scouts and spies are moving quickly across the territory, making use of the recently completed spy network. These scouts mostly avoid the armies, pressing deeper into the lands of the Brine Turtles. From some of them, however, the armies discover that the region directly south of Nadir, along the mountains, is called Eoradal.

This is the next target of the Imperial advance. Hilly, like the northern regions, but a little more densely populated. It is scattered with ruins – sturdy remnants of the vanished Skourans. The closer one gets to the eastern mountains, the more common these ruins become. Some have been converted into settlements by the orcs. Mining and hunting again seem to be the main activity among these settlements. These are hard-bitten orcs, very different to the traditional image of the Grendel. It's doubtful that many of them have even seen the sea, much less actually set sail across it.

They're no friends to the Empire, and much more amenable to helping the Brine Turtles (even if it's pretty obvious they have no time for the soldiers from Beoraidh). A few of those fighting alongside Winter Sun hail from this part of the world; for most of them it is a bittersweet homecoming. There's no welcome for members of the Sannite sept here, but a small handful are able to find lost family members and speak to them. Some of these meetings go well, and end with a few new orcs ready to come north to Skarsind with friends or family. Most end poorly, with bitter recrimination, accusations of treachery, or the discovery that anyone who might remember the Imperial Orc have already been killed by Imperial soldiers or misadventure.

There's also a little tension here and there with both humans from other nations and orcs from other septs. To most of the Imperial Orcs, especially the Sunstorm, the orcs of Mareave are just more barbarians who need to be swept away, taught never to challenge the Empire again. That does not sit well with every member of the Sannite sept.

From spies, and from the Sannites, a picture of affairs in Mareave becomes a little clearer. Tension between the Salt Lord and the Brine Turtle is old news, something baked into the Broken Shore. What is newer is the whisper of tension between the Salt Lord and their peers. Anger at the Council that chose not to send more warriors to defend Mareave against the invasion that everyone, even orcs half-way into the mountains of Eoradal, knew was coming. There's also resentment of Kalliact and her fellow traitors – and maybe a hint here and there of wistfulness. Some of the orcs here are a little jealous of those who have “escaped” north, away from the heat, the iron grasp of the Grendel, and the bitter salt of the seas and the hills.

The Gate of Storms

Eoradal proves a harder nut to crack than either Icarion or Nadir. The Brine Turtles receive further reinforcement from their sept-lands to the south, along with mercenaries paid for by the Salt Lord.

The Grendel commanders make use of a place referred to as the Gate of Storms, or sometimes Rucraic's Aerie, a fortified settlement in the south-east of the region, built up against the skirts of the mountains. Once upon a time it was a grand fortress, but the years have not been kind to it. It is well defended, but no match for even the smallest Imperial fortification. It is difficult to approach though, making it the ideal location from which the barbarians defend Mareave.

The Seventh Wave are the ones to confirm its presence, narrow down its location, and begin to plot a route whereby it can be taken. But it is clear that it is serving its purpose as a place of safety for the defenders. They are able to slow the Imperial advance, and in a few places turn it back.

As the Winter Solstice draws closer, the Imperial armies have conquered Icarion and Nadir – and both some Urizen and some Varushkans have eagerly begun to explore the ruins scattered across the region, albeit with very different goals in mind. They have made inroads into Eoradal, but there is still a long way to go – and before the region can be completely conquered the Gate of Storms will need dealing with.

It isn't entirely clear how much longer the Brine Turtles can hold out, however. Even in light of their overwhelming campaign of conquest, Imperial troops have suffered very few actual casualties. The defenders, by contrast, have clearly been severely depleted. Perhaps as many as five Brine Turtles fell for every Imperial left unable to fight. Even with the mercenaries and the Grendel soldiers from Beoraidh it's doubtful the Brine Turtle can continue to hold off the equivalent of five entire armies by themselves.

There's also the report of the spies and scouts to come; hopefully it will provide more information about what Mareave actually looks like, especially the southern lands claimed by the Brine Turtles.

One thing is increasingly clear though; there are deep divisions between the people here, and going on than initially meets the eye. Yet there's also one burning question on the lips of many soldiers. If the Salt Lords suspected the Empire would invade Mareave... why are only the Brine Turtles here to defend? Where are the rest of the Grendel?

Game Information: Mareave

The Empire has conquered two regions and is a fifth of the way toward a third. There is no map of Mareave, so the precise details of each region are unknown as is the layout of the territory. The expectation is that the spy network will provide such information at the Winter Solstice, at least to those captains who contributed to its operations.

Further Reading