15-30 Misiska, 613 After Odo

Marjura

StartFragment

Clusta Noba

Trinsmyra

Rung

Milacke

No news

Kark

Palamux

The Islands

The Cannibal pirates capitalize on the mass frenzy among the island inhabitants to recruit more hands for the crusade they are about to embark on (Mobilize).

Kargom

"The night is dark, the moon is down. A witch is wearing a witches crown. She hears the sound of a branch that breaks She turns around, her body shakes. And then before her, a face she sees Purple tattoos and sharpened teeth.

She summons power from the moon, But the tattoos glows, purple with doom. Strong arms capture her, screams in the night, She is not going down without a fight. But moon-magic in the dark will not ignite enough a spark.

She hears the sound of a mighty feast She is scared, to say the least The fires are lit, the kettles boil. All the purple people are in for a spoil. Her flesh is torn, her bones are broken, Her teeth will be hanging as a token.

As her spirit leaves her body It sees the trace of somebody… A purple Prince, bows so deep She is rushing towards the endless sleep Or is her soul and magic strong To survive the Kargomites eating song…." (Attack Shadow Actor Success).

Fokale Plains

Barù Saulani and the Fire Tongue Inquisitors will Mobilise all available Inquisitors to Fokale. Tindri reports and the Veteran Priests meditations on the fate of Fokale have made clear that it is an important focus for the upcoming struggle (Mobilize).Iaslop‘s agents network with the local Huali tribesmen with significant investments. In spite of Folda’s dominance over the region, the potential of trade connections with a major trading house opens some doors (Raise influence).

Nastrôl

Folda's Salt traders acquire new ships of their own to make new markets accessible to them (Mobilize). Urbun da Zaroflas, freelance sorcerer in the employ of the New Sphere spends much of his time studying in HOXOH in addition to some more subtle research into the local politics (Mobilize).

Moskoria

Lasemos-Bhannavil

A Magilrian army lands in the province to fulfill the Magilri promise to the Kishat. The Iron Chain - the alliance between the Kishat, Magilre and Ransard - is now in effect. However, the army really doesn't seem terribly motivated. After camping along the coast, the commanders take their sweet time, and seem to prefer the company of the local prostitutes than doing any actual campaigning. By the time the army is ready to march, the Lasemosi, who was always fighting each other, have unified and are presenting the invaders with a quite formidable army of knights, many of whom have trained in the Bansikan arts. This will not be the push-over the Kishat thought it would be (Raise Influence Fail).

The Kishat

Myxa

No news.

Ziddisbar

Enji's trade emporium expands its tradenetwork into granite and copper, adding important infrastructure to its capacity (Mobilize).

Paratorna

Ilibauria

Ruhl

Paraltro

Gozcana da Skugre does not leave Illibauria lightly, nor does she usually send messengers with demands for a meeting, but both of these things have occurred recently. Messengers hound Goba da Grummi until she agrees to have a meeting with Gozcana. The healer is not looking well. The ravages of opiander addiction and the scars of recent injuries are marked clearly upon her face, and she relies now on a cane. Her mouth is twisted in a perpetual grimace of anger. Her snarled accusations of blasphemous sabotage are dramatic and on the verge of madness.It is fitting, then, that the room is suddenly filled with blood-thirsty thugs with a single purpose: Goba da Grummi’s death.

But the Claivoyant Peace Orcs have seen visions of this nefarious deed, and Goba's agents are ready. Instead of blood thirsty thugs attacking Goba in the tent, Gaddagormgald's even more notorious mercenaries storm in attacking Gozcana. Gozcana bolts, and a furious chase starts, with the Marsh Folk Merchants trying to smuggle Goba da Grummi out of Paraltro. Through clever disguises and fast talking, her Marsh folk agents manage to get her past most of the road blocks. It looks like she is clear of the tightening noose. But then, the Marsh folk merchants strike up a conversation with another merchant caravan. Gozcana, in her hiding place, never sees exactly what gives her away, but the other merchants are Trimelda's people, and see through the Marsh folk lies. From hidden compartments, a group of Iaslop’s condottiers spring forth, lead by the Duke himself. A harried chase ensues... into the swamps... Exhausted, Gozcana cannot run any longer and is soon stuck in the muck. Iaslop draws his blade as she’s stuck in the mire. “For my friend, Kaldor. They’ll never find your corpse.”

Tricilve

The Chronolab maintenance crew keep busy, handing out prophecies and predictions to anyone, for a price. By now, their reputation is firmly cemented, and even the very highly placed within the city make use of the services. As they do so, they divulge a lot of secrets to the crew that they probably should not have (Raise influence success). The Cult of the Innocent starts to become an accepted part of the city, recognized and tolerated though certainly not dominant. Small greetings and sayings start to seep into common parlance and they are used without much thought (Raise Influence Success).

Hiltre & Hoejdar

Malusa

New Mark

Duke Grigor Trimelda is sitting in an oaken chair with elaborately carved handrests shaped like globes, the coastline of Paratorna exaggerated in size compared with other Trakorian islands. An endless queue of village champions, elders and wisemen are parading by. The odd flag is thrown onto a pile of tributes in front of the duke, but more the gift is a hamlet's speaking stick, ancestor idol or best and only hayfork.

Along the line, recently appointed bailiffs march up and down, keeping order with their canes of office. The droning of hurdy-gurdies further puts the supplicants in a fitting mood, as the courtiers milling about the duke cool themselves with scoops of Ranzian snow infused with pear juice.

"M'lhoyg, puhking ooersheeuhsh aboff ghe wabble wash ghe wighk fing kuh goo," nods the tongueless Knower of Things with approval, to his master. "Ngew Maghk bowsh khoo yoo, yaw ghaische.

"Taxation always wins the day," Trimelda mutters, distractedly.

His small, peppercorn eyes have detected an approaching contingent of dignitaries against the endless fields, framed by columns of smoke in the horizon. The group are preceded by altar boys spreading rare perfumed flowers over the dirt road ahead of them. They gilded palanquin in the center is flanked by walking castrates, lauding the passenger's virtues in obscure languages. Their light vocals jar against the bombination of the hurdy-gurdies, as a delicate stepladder is unfolded, and the Legate of the Bodak in all his splendor appears. A chained halfling is thrown to the ground as a living carpet, so the luminary doesn't have to soil his pearl-stitched slippers in the mud.

"Honorable Trimelda, duke of Bralorge, conqueror of Karramak, presumed subduer of the Kryffer Forest and most carnal dominator of Hoejdar, head of a twice elevated bloodline and future progenitor of uncountable noblings whose deeds will echo in..."

"Finally," interrupts the duke, and bluntly rises to snatch the golden laurels from the velvet pillow in the legate's hands. He tucks it under one arm and snaps for refreshments to be served to the guests, ignoring the legate's shocked face.

"But there must be a proper crowning ceremony, this is only a token of..."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure," Trimelda grunts, waving him off. Bralorgan knights escort the delegates away. Turning to his courtiers, several of them already feeling the tips of their stiletto daggers and checking their poison supplies, he orders:

"Let it be known that all subjects loyal to the throne will appear PERSONALLY at a grand assembly of the peerage, to be held in Tricilve before the end of a fortnight, hence. There, we shall decide the fate of our realm, and unmask our true enemies. All free companies, bands of mercenaries, spy rings or what it may be shall vacate the place or be rooted out with steel and fire. Whomever is currently controlling that harlot's netherhole will be held responsible for seeing this through, and guarantee the safety of their guests with their own life. Any who decline the invitation will have their lands and titles made forfeit, to be divided out among real nobles. So the Emperor commands!"

Powdered wigs askew and embroidered coats flapping, the courtiers mount their steeds and ride off to all directions of the wind. Trimelda watches them a while, then takes seat again. Glowering at the ranks of peasant notables, rooted to where they were standing in awe and wonderment, he bellows:

"We are not done, yet. Continue!"

Bralorge

No news..

Bretalva

No news

Karramak

No news.

Saphyna

Ardahals

In the Ardahals, merchants in league with Geryon try to seize control of the local markets. Unfortunately, they are not as well coordinated as Geryon's other associates, and when the Ransardians arrive, they find themselves swept up in the chaos and excitement. By the time the gather themselves, the opportunity has passed with little achieved but embarassment (Raise influence fail). In an attempted pincer movement, the Kishat's mercenary army move in from the south while the Vortiger's Griphon cavarly moves in from the north after disembarking near Tigold in Korjulme. However, this is where the Ransardi tide finally meets hard resistance. Gaaz Ulul lies in the mountain pass connecting the north and south of the island, in a highly defensible position. As the Ransardy forces have approached, the informers of the Digeta Longa have used their highly sophisticated networks to keep the commanding officer of the Trakorian heavy cavalry in Gaaz Ulul abreast of the advance, with exact information about troop movements and composition, while at the same time spreading disinformation among the population to confuse the enemy. This proves to be highly successful, allowing the commander to do highly disrupting hit-and-run attacks against the enemy where they are weakest, disrupting key supply infrastructure, while keeping Trakorian losses low by getting away before the enemy can intercept. Meanwhile, Folda's merchant navy keeps the city of Gaaz Ulul well supplied with all its citizens, and the Trakorian cavalry, needs to carry on the fight. Both the Ransards and the Kishat get increasingly frustrated as they lose precious time without any discernible gain. (Raise Influence Fail).

Korjulme

Old Blood nobles aligned with Geryon Grotteschi move into the Korjulme region ahead of the Ransardian navy. The bring their political acumen to bear against the existing power structures. If Trakoria valued the region, where are the defenders? No, Trakoria has abandoned them to the incoming liberation forces. Best to start adjusting to the new status quo. The locals nervously listen to the Old Blood nobles, and start taking their advise on many things (Raise Influence Success). These preparations do nothing to stop the Ransardi navy from moving ashore. If anything, they make the locals much more amenable to switching their allegiance the moment that vast fleet shows along the horizon. Hundreds of longships land, most around Tigold, but others all along the coast far to the West of the city. Fighting the force would mean certain death, so the locals quickly show the invaders all Folda loyalists, who are quickly deposed and replaced by Ransardi chieftains and warlords, even as many Ransardi freedom fighters emerge from wherever they were hiding when the province was held by Trakorian powers to operate in the open, paving the way for the fierce warriors. So far, the new war has been surprisingly bloodless for being a Ransardi attack, and Vortiger's control is absolute (Raise Influence Success).

Frimboline Plains

Knowing that the Ransardian fleets are en route, Geryon moves to link up with the academics in the Frimboline Plains. There, they scope out the positions and resources of the defenders, using all their knowledge learned from ancient tomes, all while Geryon himself is calling in old family favors. They're more than ready to set their plans in motion when the fleets are spotted. As Prince Folda's men leave their posts, in towers, outside warehouses, or in the streets, rushing to get a view of the incoming enemy, or rushing to find the commanders, those vacancies are swiftly filled by those eager for freedom from Trakoria (Raise Influence Success). Meanwhile, Folda's bribed nobles keep their heads down, licking the wounds they received in Ilibauria by recruiting some local merchants to join them (Mobilize).It's a good thing, too, because soon, the Ransardi berserkers come pouring down the mountains from the north, destroying everything in their wake. Any mayor or high level magistrate gets the sword, plumes of smoke reach for the sky from burning farmsteads. Halflings hide in their burrows, as does the rest of the farming population as the horde approaches. Within about a week, the plains are conquered by the Ransardi forces (Raise Influence success).

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