EPHIA: AT WAR

[Random_White_Guy]

Ephia: At War
By Celebyuin Hui'nalyw
Nadiri the First of Zol Nur

"To Dance with the Queen" - Unorthodox Warfare deployed, Tabbah 21, IY 7788

Upon the eastern front - one day after Conscription had failed, a new weapon deployed: The Kan'zuzu,

By utilization of the Wroth and a heavy price paid in ritual curse taken upon himself, Lieutenant Colmes was able to crack a Ninth Spoke sealed missive and secure answer at long last - How the Melek were able to master the Kan'zuzu. Along with Professor Flint and his favored Sandstone Student turned Scribe Celybuin Hui'nalyw, research efforts bore fruit and a possibility was made to sway the newly raised Kan'zuzu into a brutal and effective fighting force. Swayed by the workings of the dwarven bard Thrasamund Sorrow-Marked, it proved a strong showing of the alliance between the Dwarfhold of the South and the forces of Ephia's Well.

A new aspect of Total Victory was enacted. Asymmetrical warfare.

Read plain the accounting of the Warmaster himself, Rennik Colmes of Ephia's Well.

The completion of the Enemy's war machine forced a change in plans, as is all too common. I am told that the weapon was fired, obliterating a mountain in the process of calibrating its aim. The destruction of the device was deemed prudent, and Sergeant Ashworth was provided with a bomb capable of reducing it to rubble.

The Kan'zuzu proved instrumental in providing us with a clear path into the basement of the Enemy's fortress. From there, we encountered heavy enemy resistance as we progressed past traps and barricades, endured the onslaught of spears and spells before reaching the top of the tower, where the bomb was set and detonated. Losses were incurred, but the tower was taken.

The Orc garrison remains. We are in a better position than we were before, but the threat has not yet passed. They will not take long to gather themselves, and I suspect in two days, perhaps three, they will rally and advance. The ruins still present our best chance at pulling their forces into tighter quarters.

Lt. R. Colmes
Warmaster

For in "Total Victory" espoused rhetoric came the notion that new and differing ideas of war would be implemented. The Agasian Methods of the past, of Ephia Invictus, and more would be set aside. This is not a war to be won with honor, nor with pride, but with canny and cunning. If the Warmaster could not send Conscripts to crash their gates, he would deploy the very beasts and insects of the world to burrow beneath their feat. For there was little that could be stopped when Got Valdhazr and Ephia worked in conjunction.

Rather than all four of them being feasted alive, the Warmaster and Dwarf, Gnome and Elf, find their way to coax the Kan'zuzu queen to favor. And with canny enlist her brood to war. Victory was achieved and the Tower was taken, the siege weapon destroyed.

The next day, while the dead mourned, was Legate Marcellus Saenus returned to the throne of Ephia's Well. Now to sit opposite of Legate Argent.

...Who in a canny last ditch effort with Balstan Gloaimingdaith, instituted a myriad of legal, bureaucratic, and political problems for the incoming Legate Argent.

A financial crisis as the treasury near bankrupted during the time of war
Naming of differing postings and appointments
The cost of Voice raised to 15,000 dinar
And much, much more.

Though Ephia snatched a costly victory absent their long planned conscripts thanks to asymmetrical warfare, a political trap had been sprung.

Legate Saenus came in to a boiling cauldron of camel feces with a week of chaos and mayhem.
Legate Argent retreated to Ka'esh to prepare efforts and scout the front for one week's time.

...and amidst such a time came pressing news from the Front.

An open missive arrives to all in Divan operations, this one is marked as "VITAL"]

VITAL! Communique in regards to Eastern Efforts at the Lover's Gap War Encampment: VITAL!

Besiegement is holding.
Kan'zuzu forces have been exhausted, they won't be available for any further operations.

The Enemy Host has been broken in the far east by the Kha'eshi.

Remainders of this host have fled towards the camps by the bridge and work their way towards the ruins before Lover's Gap. Some eight thousand orcs.

A forward force will be needed to rout the Enemy and meet in the center kill zone, and slay Zthae'ikos, The Spear.

A secondary force will be needed to make passage through the western most camps, set fire and ruin to them.

Joined forces can then claim the Hill.

THIS NEEDS TO HAPPEN SOON. We need to clear a path for our allies from the East, and secure them from any treachery along the path.

- As dictated by Sergeant Seymour Duncan.

...A city in political turmoil and locked governance.
...A city near bankruptcy with its treasury hemmoraghing.
...A city with its military force reduced from Conscriptions overturn.

And arrives word on Illul 5th. That upon the 6th, Zthae'ikos, The Spear would be struck. Lest all would be lost. Unbeknownst to many soon would come The Battle for Lover's Gap - Which would come to be known colloquially as Samton's Last Stand, the last unified effort of Ephia's Well and Got Valdhazr...

...The battle which would serve as macabre audition and setting stage for the monumental Attack on Arslan...and all the chaos that entailed from such.

End Volume XV

[Random_White_Guy]

Ephia: At War
By Celebyuin Hui'nalyw
Nadiri the First of Zol Nur

"Samton's Last Stand" - The Legion takes Lover's Gap, Illul, IY 7788

The Legion's taking of Lover's Gap proved to be a turning point in the war effort of Ephia's Well. Absent of its conscription, absent of its Imperialist ambitions of the Sultanate, absent of Ka'esh's salvation, absent of anything it was left to stand on its own.

For hours did the fighting drag on, as Champion Aurellio battered the Western Gate to no avail as one by one his support waivered but his spirit never did. Allies falling to orcan spear. From time to time did the Nadiri Celybuin try and coax reinforcements from the main charge but time and again it was shirked, a sparse few one, two, answering the call. They refused to leave Legate Saenus' side as he charged time and again into the maw of the beast, only to be rebuked when the Orcan calvalry slaughtered the back camp.

Over. Over and over. There was no shift in tactics. There was no shift in approach. Men and women on the Western Front were dying. Men and women in the main front were dying. It did not matter. Rally. Cry for the Axe. Rush once more into the breach. Again. Again. They've struck the Camp. The Ballistaemen of the Legion are being butchereed. Retreat. Retreat. The flank is secured. Rush once more into the breach. Again. Again. They've struck the Camp again. Retreat. Retreat. The Flank is Secured. Rush once more.

Six times. Six times did the order come from the rear to charge into the breach and then retreat when the flank was exposed. The west was being torn to pieces. The rear flank was being torn to pieces. There was no wise calculation, there was no scholastic tactic, there was no learned approach to this matter by the once lauded Priest of Izdu. Nothing changed. Nothing evolved. It was the same over and over. In this grim and endless stage-show of Ephian live spent upon the western front, upon the rear front, so Legate Saenus could lead yet another failed charge. Nothing changed.

That is - Until Legate Saenus was wounded and rushed by stretch back to Ephia's Well.

It was at this point command fell to Sergeant Samton Ashworth and the ardent support at his side of Prince Zosmere Never-Crown. Portion of the main charge was broken to the western front despite the protest of some of the Purple Legate's loyalists.

"THEN WE WILL FIGHT WITH FEWER. GO. THEY NEED YOU." bellowed the large sergeant turned giant upon the field.

For even surrounded with the threat of death, for even forced six times into the breach, he would send relief to the beleaguered western front. With fewer men at his side, with less support...

He would square his shoulders. He would nod to the dwarven prince.

And he would lead a seventh charge. It would be the final charge.

Sergeant Samton Ashworth, beloved by many of Ephia's Well, was given an impossible challenge. Which was harder - An expertly raised series of Orcan Palisade with thousands battle-hardened Agasian fanatics behind it... or his Head?

On Illul 5th we had the answer.

Sergeant Samton Ashworth would drive head first and crash the gates. He would rally the Eastern and Western Fronts. He would march through the camp of Lovers Gap with aplomb slaughtering all who dared stand in his way, flanked by Prince Nevercrown. He would through the army of orcs cut a bloody swath to the beleaguered and bravest Champion Aurellio and the last few of his men surviving on the Legate neglected Western Front. He would reunite the force of Ephia's Well.

And up the hill they would charge.

He wouldn't live to see the Gardens of Zthae'ikos, and the first glimpse by many of Ephia of the odd meditations and peace of the Orc'ah high command contrary to its ravenous legions in a terrifying juxtaposition of how dangerous Iakmes truly was.

He wouldn't live to see the Betrayal of Zosmere, who he stood by so many times, and forged the bonds of Got Valdhazr before its prince was salughtered and Keep sundered as so doomsayed.

But even if the Demon itself descending from the Sky?

No power on or beyond the Disc could stop that man, on that day, from taking that hill.

It would be a hill he would die upon.

But gods, it would be his.

"At Lover's gap we all had questions.
How can you place a price on Total Victory?
How can you quantify the weight of sacrifice?
Why did Marcellus abandon the Western Front?
What is the means to take stock of a man?
How do you measure a hero?

It's the same question we Misfortuned ask each night.
How do you ward off ill intent?

Throw the Ash has new meaning this night.
The Purple Wanderer was getting us all butchered trying to take that gate.
So we pushed him aside and we threw The Ash at it.

To Samton. And all he's worth"
-Fourth Legion Toast

End Volume XVI

[Random_White_Guy]

Ephia: At War
By Celebyuin Hui'nalyw
Nadiri the First

"Nevercrown Carved Down" - The Betrayal of Got Valdhazr, Illul 19, IY 7788

Gwilym Bitter-Oath
HARK, YE TRAITORS, HARK WELL!

We are condemned to death, to ruin, to doom. We of Got Valdhazr shall lose estate, honour, our lives, and all. This is our fate. This is our prophecy.

From when I were but a babe, 'ere three-centuries long past, I saw this moment in a dream. Now it comes to be. Remember us, for so long as you draw breath. Remember the blood on your hands, remember our faces, our voices. REMEMBER.

Condemn us. Let it not be in vain.

These words cracked the night of Illul 11. The arrival of the Dwarven peoples at Kardeslar was declared a single unifying moment. In which the Princess Shaimela, the Vizier of Ka'esh, the Legates of Ephia's Well, and the Elder of the Holdfast stood in harmony. In unity. In defiance. They so roundly declared they would rise together. An oath made in sacred place of boons and dominion.

...That is until the gleaming treasure of Arslan glittered. Until the thirst for vengeance upon the Seekers-After-Death took root in Ephia. When the marred jewel of the Great Ash Desert took to its basest instincts. Of treasure. Of vengeance. Of promises of victory - if only they would march with Ka'esh to put the traitors to spear and flame. Surely it would draw forth Iakmes.

And in this single decision a turning point in the war. The Dwarves who were promised so much... that Ephia would send aid and food through the blockade, that Ephia would march to salvation, that Ephia would march to honor its agreement. All thrown aside.

From the lips of the Prince Never-Crown spewed auld and ancient curse upon the Divan of War. He and his peoples storming out, departing for the Tablet or beyond.

The words of Champion Aurelio ringing across the Chip.

Aurelio d'Lyon
Live and drink Ephia's Well. I have some important words to share with you all, but in particular, to you Prince Zosmere I must address.

We of the Cinquefoil Rose have stood by the dwarves of Got Valdhazr since your arrival. We have planned and enacted great efforts to see your holdfast secured, to see relief to the beleagured within. Some of us, have even walked into the maw of the fiery depths of our world to find you salvation.

And now? You know what you have done Zosmere, I do not fault you for your anger. Yet in your anger you have struck against us. Against our belov'd citadel. So I must regard you there for what you are. A foreign prince who has wrought harm to my home.

I am sorrowful and torn, my heart broken by all that has happened. I wish dearly to save Got Valdhazr but I cannot. I beg you only plead your cause to my Grandmaster, for now, you have - as you know it true - comitted yourself to your fate.

Send word if you wish to appeal to her bless'd wisdom, that great Grandmaster Elizabetha and her heart, she holds much love for the peoples of the world. Yet do not come to the Krak des Roses seeking succour otherwise. I shall have to turn thee away.

Yet there are those who say the Champion himself bade the Prince to speak upon the Divan, standing aside him as the words of curse thrown. While the Rose offers with one hand -

It takes with the other.

For soon after with near immediacy came an all too familiar crooning of the Mirliva upon the Bellows.

Emilia Laurentis
The exile, and enemy of this /war/ has been captured. His head, that of the Dwarven Prince, shall be removed beyond the Gate of Roses within moments. You who revel in the result of battle can give witness.

We of the accord march, unified at last, against the host of Iakmes. You who stand against it will be met with this fate. So speaks the Mirliva of the Well, Balestriere of the Banderossi. From Blood to coin to ash.

Skirmish lets fly blood, spell, and steel upon the Gate of the Rose as a phyrric attempt is made to thwart the execution of the Nevercrowned. The Cinquefoil Rose offering with one hand, and taking with another as the Banda Rossa's premiere head-hunters rip Zosmere from the depths of the Creep. A fate that many of the Orentid remember all too well.

The duality of humanity on bare display: Word honored and word broken. Aid offered, and head taken.

If to sprinkle fine Ghulati Salt into the wound came further bellow:

Emilia Laurentis
Sub Overseer Uz'Khalak, the Banderossi await our payment at the fortress of the Rose. Legate Argent, the cursed traitor, cultist, and enemy of the well -Never Crown-, shall indeed never bear a crown. His head is removed.

To the Senate of Low Kulkund did the Banda Rossa's Mirliva pledge both contract and head of the severed prince.

To those by the Assembly in the past deemed vile and enemy for their attempts upon the Torchbearer.
To those by the Legates in the past declared false and unworthy of recognition for their claim over Mount Kulkund and the auld Holds.
An Officer of Ephia pledged fealty, so long as the bloodmoney were to come.

And in one fell swoop the promise of Princess Shaimela raised at Kardesler thrown to dust. Agreement thrown by the wayside. For there is no place for promises in Total victory. No matter the cost. And in every instant of Total War- The first casualty is honor, the second casualty is decency, and soon comes blood.

For to fight Iakmes is to not preen the glory of war, nor its medals, nor the heroism of the Balladeers of the Grandmaster. To fight Iakmes is to fight extinction. And when pushed so far to the brink, Humanity will do as it will ever do.

It will survive. No matter the cost.

Seven days later would Iakmes' forces take the Holdfast of Got Valdhazr, butchering the Dwarves to the last as the Siege Broken. Ephia's focus shifted to Arslan.

And in this singular action did the true face of the Cinquefoil Rose take to show.

The Balladeers' decline from Hero to idle observer falling by the wayside. The Grandmaster's great tales of glory given way to the brutal efficiency, professionalism of La Banda Rossa. Little did the Lyrist and Balladeers know they know it would cost them much face, much support, and much Dinar at the assemblies in the wake of Arslan and elections to come. This would be the cost of Victory.

But with the promise of at last ending the threat of Iakmes? Nothing mattered more. The teeth of La Banda Rossa shall be borne.

And woe to the Dwarves, to Iakmes, to the Balladeers, to the Legion, and any others who stood in their way.

Condottiero Mirielle Rosseau had entered the Theater of War.

And Arslan would be her masterpiece.

End Volume XVII

[Random_White_Guy]

Ephia: At War
By Celebyuin Hui'nalyw
Nadiri the Second

"The Second Star of Illul" - The Assault on Arslan, Illul 20, IY 7788

Total Victory. No matter the cost. These six words beaten into the heads of the Ephian citizenry at every turn with the Gold League's meteoric rise to power amidst the doldrums of the war. That through a focused effort they would adapt the policy of Ka'esh and warp it into a truly ephian identity. The mercenary boardworker lauded in medals, the Accorded officer gleaming on high in honor and victory on behalf of the Heron, the Legates taken to the field of war while other leaders of other settlements watch on. The difference however between the Assault on Arslan and the previous battles falls into a singular category:The Astronomers of Q'tolip

Exiled from glorious Baz'eel for their defiance of heterodox philosophy and magical theory the Astronomers have been part and parcel of Ephia's existence since its conquering in 7777 and its division among the Three Powers. While Nadiri and Apothar alike have partaken of the War against Iakmes in many shape and form it would be at the Assault of Arslan their full powers once more on display in a stunning showcase of Magical prowess not seen in the Great Ash Desert since the Battle of Red Hill, made famous by Meteor Mae's decimation of the Sibilant Forces.

In a veritable showcase of magical projects a great deal of resources and undertakings were unveiled for what the Warmaster deemed the turning point of the War. Among a litany of other projects taken to the field and theories put to practice were:

DM Shout: Apothar Mae Stern presents some new fangled invention from the Tower of Q'tolip in the Krak des Roses...

DM Shout:
Three mannequins stand motionless, covered in thick, heavy fabrics, connected by tubes to a helmet companion, cradling in their arms a strange device, glass containers filled with some strange, swirling chemical mixture.

Maepalm Launchers and Prototype Suits

Though the details are proprietary three prototype suits and launchers, suitable for use by the non-arcanist, were introduced into the field in Arslan. One for the La Banda Rossa, one for the Janissary, and one for the Unaffiliated. To take them as they please for deployment upon the front.

This powered armor and accompanying mobile launchers offered a differing approach than the Tenth Legion's artillery barrage. A horrifying chemical compound spewed upon the masses of oncoming orcs that would not permit their usual battle-hardened resistence to flames to hinder. Raw, unmitigated power and ingenuity pressed to the killing fields resulting in a high volume of Orc'ah Casualties.

The suits protecting the user from both Orcish magics as well as potential crossfire,

[close]

DM Shout:
A harrowing exchange takes play over the Eagle's Mount... a fluffy of purple and bright rainbow magics breaks into a strange silence

The Banners of the Heron and Tapestry

In a robust and splendid craft of artisan skill mixed with esoteric magics the Nadiri Zain lead a project of creation of Banners of the Heron. These pieces worked with Senior Scribe Bashir, traders in Baz'eel for the highest quality silks, and a great many Nadiri of the Tower and Apothar Isaac Naught saw a splendid ritual undertaken.

Utilizing the Nadiri's thesis works on Tulpal Manifestation the very essence of artistry and imagination tempered with hope and prosperity were woven into the very threads. A patriotic symbolism emboldened by Aspectral Prism of indomitable spirit, of clarity of purpose, of pride and zeal against the encroaching extinction broached by Iakmes and his terrible legion.

As well as the very lifesblood of Nadiri Zain himself, spilled as Senior Scribe Bashir executed him with a long needed hammered directly into his skull to bleed out upo the Tapestry in ultimate sacrifice - to die for the Well.

It would go on in the field to assist robustly in rebuking the foul machinations of the War Groknak but so too the lingering influence of Iakmes' scepter.

[close]

DM Shout:A strange light has fallen, somewhere in the desert. It hangs where it fell, mostly bled, but lingering like an aurora. A covetous hue to the sky, like gold.

DM Shout: That which had alighted upon the desert vanishes, for those who watch from afar. A zone of little color, dull drab, drained replaces it.

DM Shout: The moon shines bright tonight, down onto the sands. Pale and bright, O' Moonlight.

DM Shout: Moonlight fights with something else in the east. A patch of sky that has had many hues tonight flickers, but holds...

DM Shout: Once. Twice. Thrice. Something... snaps.

The Killing Light

It is a light.

It kills. Anything else you had to have been at Arslan to witness the raw power of.

[close]

And lastly, attended to by Zol Nur Apothar, Nadiri Shum Sheroy, Nadiri Voutan Mair - Zenithar Ishakr's pride and joy.

The Mobile Shade Prototype. Enclosed an excerpt from his research and orders of Deployment.

We have been in close discussions with the Sultanate over the past days....detachment...of...safeguard the headquarter...With all due caution... we have agreed to break apart a portion of the Shade...carry it onto the field...Safety paramount... overwhelm the camp, it would be...unparalleled disaster...

- Ishkar

The Mobile Shade and Advanced Ashstorm Prediction

If the Ash were able to overwhelm the Camp, it would be an unparalleled disaster. And with the portents and readings of the Tower's many lenses it was anticipated that a Storm would be cresting upon the horizon at the time of the Battle as chosen by Ka'esh for maximum disruption of the Orc'ah. Fortunately however the Astronomers of Q'tolip have at our disposal magics and occultism unparalleled.

Attended by the Apothar and the Nadiri the main headquarters was protected from a storm that would have otherwise crippled both logistics and claimed countless lives - it allowed not only environmental refuge but in the swirling of the storm itself were the forces of Ephia able to rest, regroup, and reprepare for the next push in the engagement.

A reprieve in a long day of fighting is a rarity and can make all the difference between victory and defeat, in life and death. For if an army marches on its stomach, it battles on its respite. And with new vigor and zeal were the forces of Ephia able to marshal and prevail.

A far preferable outcome to the skin of our Accorded Officers, Legates, Artilleriest, and other warriors sloughed off and burned as their Risen corpses rose burning and in agonizing screams.

[close]

It was the culmination of these Projects spearheaded by Apothar and Zenithar, and other lesser projects undertaken by the Nadiri in the days leading to the War that lead to a tipping point in the conflict. For while the Orc'ah had much - They were unable to contest the sophistication and complexity of the High Zenithar Q'tolips many students working in synchronized harmony.

With such tools at her disposal was Commander Mirielle Rosseau, serving as overseer of the Conflict while Warmaster Colmes ambushed and missing in action, was Ephia able to take the day.

while Ka'esh suffered much, While the Seekers-After-Death suffered much, While Iakmes suffered much, While the Legion loosed its artillery on our own forces due to the Sisterhood passing flares to the untrained - by the workings of the Tower, Ephia's suffering mitigated. And far more returned home than would have absent of such complex and dutiful invention.

As the Second Star shone over Arslan, sparked by the Q'tolipans on Illul 20, did the banners of the Jackal and Heron fly victoriously.

End Volume XIII

[Random_White_Guy]

Ephia: At War
By Celebyuin Hui'nalyw
Nadiri the Second

"The Titanic Shift" - The Stirrings of the Auld Titans, Tesrin Hray 8, IY 7788

It was meant to be a showcasing of victory. Of fun, of games, of the Champions of Ephia's Well draped in laurel and finery to strike a blow upon the wretches of Iakmes and his champions captured by the Jackals of Ka'esh.

The glory and festivities of the day would be lost to the sands, for in one terrifying instant did History return to the Present. As above, so below. The Titants of Bronze and Silver, the cruel machinations of Cyraxes the Ancient Giant resurfacing at the same time the Seekers-After-Death and Iakmes' forces stage their breakout of the Grand Arena of Ka'esh.

For weeks the sands had been quiet - only to erupt into a blind horror that gripped the imagination of even the newest awoken refugee. These titans undercutting all notion of what the brave and true Boardworkers knew to be so. To quaff many brews, to leap headlong into contest, to brazenly and with highest bravado strike with daring-do.

...Only to have every piece of magic stripped from you, absorbed by the Titan, and used to turn your best friend, your cousin, your League-member, your co-soldier, your fellow recluta, and anyone in proximity into what may only be described as a puddle of muddled wine in the sand. For it was not the Orcs that returned to the Great Ash Desert.

It was fear. Fear that cut to the core of the Boardworker, while the Accord leapt immediately to toil. The Cinquefoil Rose and its many thorns binding new paths to malign them. The Legion keeping shrewd eye and harsh watch. And the Astronomers designing mean and method to sunder them to ruin where they belong.

Overtime though matters would dwindle - The Rose, embroiled in an internal conflict and a tale to be told in the next volume, would begin to grow insular.

The 4th Legion, attending its many duties, would only be able to attend so much. So much atop the countless other demands imposed by the Purple League, the Sultanate, the Scribes, and more. They must keep order during war time, no small task.

The luxury though of the Tower - while less occupied minds tend the mundane nature of bureaucracy, we are able to glimpse 'pon the horizon. To see, to know, to anticipate, and to study the world around us.

Herein lay fragment of transcript from Zenithar Obam himself, of what would be come to known merely as "Task 028".

Nadiri, Astronomers,

I have...oversight of...research of these shards.

We are working...conjunction with...Stonebreakers...as well as the Golden Vizier....

As we understand, these shards - and I welcome your individual reports on examinations - these shards radiate ... quite unlike any currently in use...striking similarity in energy reading to certain ancient...

...they can be used in a manner as fuel. We will need to gather many...wherever they appear, to power the 10th Legion's 'Titan Cannon' in the coming phase of the war.

Gather them, collaborate, research, propose. Do as you would, but know that...they charge...the cannon.

Zenithar Obam

And so would begin the salvaging, archaeological efforts against the reanimated husks. Procuring a great many of the shards by all means possible, as Nadiri and Apothar alike secure them away from the opportunistic, the greedy, and the, as the Apothar Azimi puts it "Misguided Fools of Brimstone College".

While theory proven in experiment and practical testing, while the blueprints and shards ferried to the testing site and sent beyond the hands of the Tower of Q'tolip...

...Down below in Ephia's Well would absolute chaos take hold.

When a Lieutnant of the Fourth dragged before a neophyte Magistrate Awoken, a Balestriere of La Banda Rossa.

In what would become one of the most tumultuous, and for 163 refugees, the most bloody and uncertain days of Ephia's Well since the Fall of the Citadel.

End of Volume XIV

[Random_White_Guy]

Ephia: At War
By Celebyuin Hui'nalyw
Apothar of Q'tolip

"An Invitation to Chaos" - The Marishyen and Accord Strife, Tesrin Hray 18, IY 7788

Beware. Tesrin Hray. A Time when Doors ought to have been sealed. Thrust and flushed open...

A Legate, or a member of their cabinet is required. Promptly. [His voice is shaking like a leaf.]

The Marishyen. Who in their wake leave chaos and destruction, who in their wake leave twisted corpses and blackened hands. Who in their wake leave uncertainty among the resolute, who give pause among the brave, who give hesitation in moment of largest opportunity. For it is said wherever they grace their feet, plague and misery to follow. Wherever their words are heard cattle give still-birth and famine grips harvest. That upon the annals of history even their deeds - sparse and terrifying, are so chronicled.

Though the myth and folklore of such any organization that endures since time immemorial gives root to boundless myth, wild rumor, errant, and more. It is not unheard of even in our own times - the Sisters of the Sybaline Vine, those humble and charitable sisters, so eager of their many cloisters to offer barest charity in 7787... in 7788 have taken on a new and differing hue, focusing now most publicly on far different agenda.

It is only natural to presume that overtime the Marishyen may have developed harsh consternation from their rivals. Until one begins to dig deeper. That there lay from decades, centuries, signs and portents of their works.

...Wherever strife and discord occur...can be seen in the shadows...said that they whispered...the ear of Zojhir...worked his first heresies.

...Did rile up Fulmizid Silverknee...and his Thousand Clans wrought ruin over the Ash...

...Even distant...tutelage of the Magi, it is said...whispered in the hear of Marib...caused Great Consternation in the Houses...

These works are innumerous, found littering the Great Ash Desert from Forgotten Villages burned to ash to doomed paths amidst pits of blackest ichor where piglrims perish having sought hope. The specter of danger. And while the more brazen and bold are quick to declare with surety that these are only myth, that these are mere rumors, that these are Tales of Fairydust to scare children, to scare the ignorant, to scare the superstitious, or to scare the politician. I offer you this.

My first hand account, as the Warmaster of Ephia's Well asked of me simply to share with him of the Marishyen.

Since time immemorial they have arrived upon the moments of climax, a preamble to a grim denouement in which obstacles grow fiercer, in which surety becomes doubt, in which valor is replaced with trepidation and in which all that was becomes all that it should not be.

In the harshest sense of the word I cannot express their danger. While some call such coincidental, we of Q'tolip have long studied the stars. The celestial bodies that so many take to calling "Random Chance", that so many take to calling "Unpredictable". But as one studies, as one learns, as one grows, one begins to see patterns.

The same can be said of Archaeological works, The same can be said of histories. When one studies, when one learns, when one digs, one begins to see patterns.

And I can emphasize this in no greater fact than this:

FIVE AND A HALF HOURS AFTER THEIR ARRIVAL,
MOST OF WHICH SPENT IN TRIAL,
BALESTRIERE EMILIA WAS SENTENCED TO HER FATE.

Less than an hour later, came the darkness. When blood shed in the street, when chaos gripped the hearts and minds of many, when tensions rose, when threats levied, when chaos and danger and more draped over the Citadel like a black banner.

For in the dull and splendid glow of the Celestial Disc that is the moon, much can be revealed. And in this instance it took only five hours after their arrival for Balestriere Emilia to be executed in the streets. For blades to be drawn, for curses to be hewn, for howls of rage to be echoed.

Orders of the Bey! Orders of the Bey! Janissaries are to return to the Garrison. Calm is bidden!

Presmir Talvenir has brought us to the brink of war. This can be averted by returning my Balestriere to me. Bring Emilia Laurentis to the Krak des Roses immediately. I am tired of waiting.

Small amendment - The Janissaries produced the body of prior Balestriere, their new scarab, the now dead Emilia.

On a day I wished to celebrate as a victory, where I stood with the united forces of our citadel to free a captive ally and friend, I must instead mourn the death of peace.

You let your men kill an officer of the Rose today.

There will be blood for this. That is all!

That is all Condottiera? There will be blood? A death threat after you attempted to kill a magistrate. And where is your evidence of their reason? In the sentencing of a known brooker in the worst kept secret of the well that you somehow managed to be the only one ignorant of despite being her master?

And I will make this clear, and hope that you heed me well, Miriam Rosseau. Let your attempt on my life be forgiven as a foolish act of grief, and let the taste of sand in your mouth serve a gentle lesson in humility. But if you should try it again, pray that you strike true.

There will be no officer handed over to anyone to maim, torture and murder to satisfy anyone's urge for bloodshed. The same follows for the Magistrate. If there is an Accord to be broken here, that fault will lie with the Banda Rossa.

This was but one day, one night, one brutal and horrific evening... that would lead to days of increased tension, of scheme and politic, of threat, of danger sown in the streets, of uncertainty. All at a time in which the Titans roamed, all at a time in which the Orcs raised force.

A White League Magistrate's attempted assassination by a Condottiera.

La Banda Rossa would be once more withdrawn from the War by the orders of their Condottiera over the sleight of their Officer's massacree.

The fate of Sergeant Carrot Grimes, uncertain, said by some to be sent to death and said by others to be given leniancy if he is stentanced to death, leading to consternation and uproar among the Leagues. Politics would swirl, knives would sharpen, lives would be lost.

For a great many day's time matters would boil over into feud and strife. And while eventually - and at exceedingly high cost of over a hundred thousand dinar - dinars that could have been put towards so many restorative projects and more to aid this city. Dinars that could have been put towards greater works of the war effort in any capacity.

Dinar was given. Bloodmoney. Weregild. For the life of an Officer given a Medal of honorific from the Legates, stuck like a pig and bled into the sands on the street. No amount of Dinar could rebuild the trust that was shattered. The death threats and sabers rattled over the bellows, in the streets, the black oaths to dark gods and pleas of mercy from the benign. That there would be blood. That there would be vengeance. That there would be wroth.

And there is no telling what next shall be wrought from their works upon this City, when it is said the march to The Scald to come, the most dangerous and terrible leg of this campaign of extinction.

...All because the Marishyen were invited. All because in Tesrin Hray, the Doors which ought remain sealed, were so graciously opened.

End Volume XV

[Random_White_Guy]

Ephia: At War
By Celebyuin Hui'nalyw
Apothar of Q'tolip

"Cannon Hray - A Time when Walls are Opened" - The Mighty Kuşatma , Kanon Hray 10, IY 7788

With the looming of the most cruel and enduring march of the War Effort, nestled outside the Gate of Sand lay not the fabled Industrial District, the illustriou dream of the Gold and Purple Leagues and Gohari Industries first factory. The opposite in fact - Not the builder of walls. The billings from the massive smokestack outside the Gate of Sand is not the forges and inspiration of the izduan mechanical loom. The belching fury, akin to ripping open a hole in the ground and spitting forth from the mouth of Djinn Lord the most roiling flame.

The Breaker of Walls. The Shattering Voice of the Q'tolip. The Mighty Kuşatma. Known among the layfolk as The Titan Cannon, Zenithar Obam's masterpiece of craft. The subtle interlay of grace and terror. The off-white stones, like bone. The subtle curvature. The imprinted sigils - embossed and raised just ever so slightly as if carved by a master artisan. The blend of artistry and decay, engineering and magic, beauty and ruin.

Forged and operated by the Sultan's 10th Legion it represents a pinnacle of the workings undertaken in the face of Iakmes. The preparations for this long and final march - the combined efforts of the Tower of Q'tolip, the Sultan's Legion, and the Battle-Mages of Ka'esh.

Utilizing proprietary magics the Shards of the Titan are inversely served as repulsive accelerator, launching its salvos with a force of energy not seen since the crashing fall of the Summer Palace. Massive, sweeping craters left in the sands from its field testing. Soldiers of the Tenth joking that it holds "Magnitude beyond the powers of any artillery thus far into the field. If at Arslan a shot could kill four, five Recluta. This? This a Battalion of them."

As if by divine providence at the time Ephia's Well finds itself in the throes of a religious fervor and zealous feud betwixt the servitors of the Wheel and the Dome, the forces of mortals assembled in defiance of the Thousand Clans efforts of extinction have created perhaps the single most destructive force in the modern era.

...The only difficulty awaiting?

Traversing the horrific and blistering Scald, and the inevitable dangers that await each time the Camp assembles to move. For undoubtedly the Elements, Iakmes, the Seekers-After-Death, Brooker, Baharu, Hundred Prince, Melek, Blood Plague, and more shall be awaiting southwards.

If though the Accord and its tag-along sellswords, if Ka'esh and its Wild Brothers, battle mages and camp followers, and assembled mercenaries such as the Silent Ones, Big Chums, and more can converge...

Total Victory. No matter the Cost.

End Volume XVI