Did you enjoy your evening meal, my lord? Fantastic, I shall pass your compliments to the local chef. Can I interest you in a complimentary wine, perhaps? Ah, the news instead? Certainly, we hear much of interest and are happy to oblige in what may be to your fancy.
Much has occurred here in our very own Weiland! Do you wish to hear of strangeness in Everguarde? The rise of fallen animals? Beasts and monsters that belong in The Weald but roam our Lake? The state of The Manor? Constructions happening along The Border Forts?
Hmm, no I think you are perhaps most interested in the result of Duke Vespera of Heartsgrave and her Mandates! Well, let me be the first to say how surprised I was to hear the result….
I Met a Magic Man in the Woods
“Quickly Paisley, if we dilly dally we’re going to miss the beginning!”
So often Paisley Periwinkle found herself being led by the hand at her sister’s whims and fancies. And these whims and fancies always involved magic. Her dearest sister Piper would pout, pester and promise anything and everything in order to get Paisley to come along on these adventures.
For the longest time the girls would offer to make the trip to market and save their mother the trouble. It so happened that the market offered an opportunity to make a neat little detour to the Crystal Maw. Paisley and Piper would watch over the construction - from a very safe distance mind you - and then Paisley would have to check under Piper’s bed each night to make sure a ghoul hadn’t followed them home.
Most recently, the girls made one last trip for the naming ceremony of the dam when its construction had finished. Their eyes lit up upon seeing the Duchess of Everguard herself as she cut a large satin ribbon of pink, blue and white, and named the grand construction Winnifred’s Wall.
Once Piper grew tired of the dam, they started investigating around Lake Ladure proper. Piper had heard tell of Crystal Mana being found in the quarry, and wanted to see if she could find any herself. Paisley thought the quest rather ridiculous, but rolled up her trousers and helped her sister all the same. They turned over pebbles and stones in search of crystal for what felt like weeks. And when Piper gave up, they settled for collecting the strange white petals that littered the shores of Lake Ladure like fresh fallen snow. And now-
“Just imagine Paisley, he’s a Ser and a Mage! If I can ever go to a School of Magic, and you complete your Valors-”
Piper crouched under a branch that Paisley just managed to duck herself in time as they travelled further into the woods.
“Think of what mama and papa will say! Maybe one day we’ll make our own Noble House just like our Duchess did. House Periwinkle - imagine that!”
“There’s no such thing as a Magic School in Carningsfield, and likely not to be. And not likely mama and papa could ever afford to send you to Legend City or Andash. And you can’t stand the heat, Piper.” Paisley wasn’t much a fan of dampening her sister’s dreams, but Virtues and Valors seemed much more likely than-
“Well just you wait. I’m going to learn everything I can from this Ser Mage, and maybe he’ll write a letter to the Archmage, and maybe they’ll let me go to school, and maybe then everyone will believe me about seeing mag- oh look, look! We’re here!”
The woods opened up into a clearing, where several fallen trees had been dragged to make a sort of semi-circle seating arrangement. The whole thing seemed rather crackpot to Paisley, but she certainly wouldn’t leave her little sister alone in the forest.
Paisley watched from a distance as her sister and a handful of other brighteyed mages gathered around Ser Vincent Karwall the Flame as he spoke of theories and magic and magic theories. The whole thing made not a lick of sense to Paisley, but Piper was the stillest she’d ever been listening to the strange man. She kept her prickle of concern quiet walking home as Piper prattled on and on about blood rituals, the dale, and… endermarnie?
By the time they’d made home, Paisley thought perhaps she should start pursuing those Valors with a bit more… earnest. Just in case.
Game Information
Ser Vincent Karwall the Flame has respected the Duchess of Everguarde’s wishes and ceased his experiments in ‘The Dale of the Pale Man’. However, word has spread throughout the Kingdom of Bordevar, and eager mages have been seeking out Ser Vincent in Carningsfield to learn what he knows about Endemani magic.
The effect from last season where mages from Everguarde are forced to swift cast all spells, and may cast Detect Magic for free is no longer in effect.
Instead, mages from Everguarde may cast Detect Magic, even if they do not know it, but only as a standard 30 second cast, and at a cost of 1 mana.
In addition, Bordevarian characters with the Magus Skill will have the opportunity to take a Special Downtime Action ‘Attend the Lectures of Ser Vincent Karwall the Flame’ to attend these informal classes on Endemani magic.
There will be further information and decisions to be made for the Duchess of Everguarde.
She Will Take Revenge to the Grave and Claw Her Way Back
Nearly two years ago, the small township of Thricefield in the heart of Weiland fell to the Blasserstreit. It fueled fears of conspiracy, a run on Bordevarian grain, investigation upon investigation. Finally, it appears that these fears can be put to rest, at the end of a blessed blade.
While information is still difficult to attain, sufficiently influential individuals or those willing to sit with enough Arbington Guardsmen buying them brandy can draw the shape of conspiracy in the shapes of what they aren’t saying. And it paints a picture as dour as could be imagined.
Count Lukas Hallowmere, Master of House Hallowmere, is rumoured to have been working on a way to create a substance or method of transporting Blasserstreit over distance so that it can be used to spread the infection in particular places, without risking the agents responsible for its distribution. Thricefield (part of House Hallowmere’s holdings) had been a fumbled failure that had thankfully consumed itself. But work had not ceased.
Worse than the simple existence of this goal in the hands of a House with the ability to pursue it, is the fact that they appear to have acted in concert. Agents of House Hallowmere have met with representatives of groups in Lerona Mere, Resinderholz, and perhaps unsurprisingly, the Onyx Aristocracy. The image of Blasserstreit spreading in Wolstad is horror enough. The thought of it spreading in Legend City brings the knowledgeable to weeping, and the ignorant to the nearest priest. Loose lips among Concordian heroes have long suggested the Blasserstreit as a weapon or bargaining tool, it appears that our enemies have been more than happy to act first in this respect.
But the Sheriffs and Dukes of Bordevar have not been idle. Between moonlit confluxes and the repeated investigations of the Weiland Customs House and the Arbington Guard Hall, the noose has closed around Count Lukas, his wife Rainella, and their treasonous banner.
Arbington guards have raided the smaller holdings of House Hallowmere and its cadet branches, businesses associated with them, and captured their agents on the roads. As a force gathered to make the judicial assault on the hall of Count Hallowmere, the wretched man appeared to discover his waning time, and fled to the north. Arbington guards and Concordian pathfinders have launched into pursuit, hoping to call upon the heroes of The Concord before the Count can reach a band of Onyx Aristocracy forces that have slipped over the border from Vassertal, led by a woman in white and red.
Around the northern keep of House Hallowmere, the remainders of the abandoned assault hold a hasty cordon. But the keep’s windows and arrowslits glow a foul hue in the evening light, and even with the Count’s departure, who knows what dangers and wonders remain within Fairstorm Keep.
Elsewhere, the Keepers of the Weiland Tax and Customs office prowl the paths out of the region. Some of them even travel outside of the Realm pursuing those forces in Resinderholz and Lerona Mere that aided Hallowmeres. And while the Keepers are capable investigators, their influence and skill wanes quickly beyond the borders of the Kingdom, and these foes have a respectable head start. The trail grows cold, but not without leads.
As the Summit draws near, the reflex to congratulate themselves may be more than heavy for the subjects of the Kingless Kingdom, but the work is far from done. Count Hallowmere must be apprehended before he can flee to the enemy, and the allies of the Hallowmere may grow to become a more dangerous foe than even Lukas and Rainella Hallowmere.
The fate of every living person in The Concord is held in the balance of these decisions.
Do.
Not.
Fail.
Game Information
Following consistent actions by Sheriffs, Dukes, and heroes from across Bordevar, a conspiracy has been revealed and now is the time to act, and bring the perpetrators to justice. Clustered around Count Lukas Hallowmere and his northern holdings.
Raids on businesses surrounding Count Hallowmere have led the Sheriff of Arbington to command a final assault on the Hallowmere estate, however it appears the Count has already fled. Concordian Pathfinders and members of the Arbington Guard hall are in hot pursuit. The Sheriff of Arbington will be responsible for organising a Conflux to capture Count Hallowmere, and his research, before it can fall into the hands of his benefactors and their agents from the north. This conflux will be dangerous, high impact, and low accessibility. There will be additional decisions for the Sheriff of Arbington.
Tracing the truth of the larger conspiracy has proven somewhat harder, given enemy proficiency, long distance, and some Concordian missteps (owing to both confusion, and timidity). The Sheriff of Weiland has been responsible for much of this work, and will have additional information and opportunities to continue the investigation beyond Bordevarian borders into Lerona Mere and Resinderholz.
Count Lukas Hallowmere was a wealthy and influential lord, with holdings across the Realm. These holdings have been seized by the state but efficient work from Civil Servants on the ground have cleared many of them from involvement in the case. While some have been returned to the Wise Council for dispersal, some have been held by the Civil Service for auction. A number of Count Hallowmere’s holdings in the form of investments, and collections of resources will be auctioned on the second night of the Summit. This auction will only be open to Bordevarian nobles, Knightly Grandmasters, and Stewards.
Every Stone in the Wall is Unique
Since their completion in Autumn 224 the Borderforts of Starscar have yet to see a proper engagement, and this winter was no different. The forts are far from quiet, however, thanks to the work of Alyce Baker, the Deedholder to the Lake Ladure Quarry. The season would see twenty tonnes of arcstone transported across Weiland, with workers travelling to each of the five forts to improve Bordevar’s defences against the Aristocracy to the east.
Great mounds of stone and wood are created before the walls of the Oaken Keep, reinforced with arcstone and disguised with earth. Designed to break apart any wave of undead that sought to crash upon the walls, they create a host of redoubts from which the expert skirmishers of the fort can strike out at unsuspecting foes.
Amidst the construction, a host of billmongers strike out to assist the Barrow Hounds further into Draemoor, their leave of absence secured with mercenaries funded by Lord Arthur Shepherd. Less noticed, a squad of rangers break north to scout the Wolfsbuel with supplies against the plague provided by the same.
Barrow’s Roost is perhaps the busiest of the five, with stewards rushing around to make way for the new ownership of the fort. Fortunately, the construction is focused to the top of the walls and stays mostly out of the way. Over the course of the winter two new towers would appear atop the fort, and the existing ones reinforced, providing greater visibility, ranged defensive potential, and more aviary space.
That space would not go unfilled for long, with the tireless efforts of Duchess Winnifred Eldermere and her group of magi working to promote the breeding efforts of the fort’s falcons. The flock of enlarged birds stands ready to support their new housemates with deliveries of arms and armour into the heart of Draemoor.
The knights of Caelins Barrack would sit at their post, awaiting the order from their Champion that it was time to sally out from the fort and reclaim their lands. The arcstone goes towards reinforcing the trenches that span the cleared land before the walls, further deepened and stretched. Additional labourers paid for by Ser Louisoix Leveilleur allow for works beyond that of the other four, with sturdy palisades providing even more defense.
In the Keep of the Horned Count, the sound of construction can barely be heard over the sound of arguing nobility. It is a handful of letters that make the difference for Lord Galadin Pearbell and boost his voice above the others. Support from former senators, Baron Kal-killion Mon’star and Ser Louisoix Leveilleur, from Duke Kore Vespera, and from a number of other nobles has allowed him to firmly take leadership over the operations of the fort. New banners of a fruiting tree in a field of bluebells now hang, protected by fresh arcstone crenellations and buttressing.
By the time works are complete, Gray Keep has all but receded into the rocky base of the Steinvaults. A hollowed chamber in the mountain, scaffolded by an arcstone frame, allows key supplies and infrastructure to be protected from any foe. The quarried stone extends the walls of the fort, funnelling attackers towards the gates defended by arrowports and oil.
It is through these gates that a troupe of deserters are marched by Duke Wynters herself. The message is clear: State of Emergency or not, there is no excuse for abandoning your post and weakening the realm.
After two years without formal orders, and governance left an internal matter, each fort has developed its own personality and traditions. Whilst they stand ready for the final assault into Royal Bordevar, the question remains, however, what happens to these bastions of individuality once there is no longer a warfront to protect?
Game Information
Over the past season, works have been completed on each of the Borderforts of Starscar. Under the order and donation of the Deedholder of the Lake Ladure Quarry, Alyce Baker, Arcstone improvements have increased the maximum strength of the fortification by 1000. Additionally, the next time the fortress is damaged it can be repaired at no cost.
The Weiland page has been updated to reflect the expanded details about each fort.
There will be information regarding the state of Wolfsbuel for Lord Arthur Shepherd following orders to Scout the Frontline from the Oaken Keep. Other forces from the Keep have assisted with the Fight Further into Draemoor action this season.
Through magical experimentation, the birds at Barrow’s Roost have increased in size, and the flock has recovered in numbers. It will be more capable of transporting information over risky flights and carrying larger packages. There will be further information for characters who undertook the Special Action.
Further information about the presence of the Barrow Hounds at Barrow’s Roost can be found in the relevant Winds entry.
In Caelins Barrack, workers have been hired to further reinforce the trenches in front of the fort. The maximum strength of the fortress has been increased by an additional 250.
Letters from several Nobles from across the Houses of the heroic delegation have resolved a leadership dispute in the Keep of the Horned Count. House Pearbell now firmly leads the fort, thanks to the support of the heroes.
Deserters from the Gray Keep have been hunted down through Weiland township and returned to their post. There has been no reduction in the maximum strength of the fortress, but discontent may grow as the State of Emergency continues. There will be additional information for characters who undertook this Special Action.
Sometimes, Dead is Better
The spires of what was once known as Peregrine’s Roost are far quieter than the bustling fortress they stand above. Glowshards cast light over the stained rafters of rooms thick with the scent of hay and droppings. These shards, specially developed with aid from heroic mages, would serve a more important purpose in the hatchery rooms. The warmth they provide would be a critical factor in the maturation of the dozens of large eggs that rested below them.
Aviarist Lyore sits on a stool, armed with ledger and quill, reviewing each egg in turn. She holds one up to the light, the glowing pink revealing the chick thriving inside, making her notes accordingly. The next is dark and motionless, the lack of an air sac the telltale sign of a stillborn bird. Such things were not overly uncommon, even in standard practices, but still she let out a small sigh.
It is only as she is about to mark her ledger that the bird, that was so still, moves. It moves with purpose, its head turned directly towards her as if it could see Lyore even through the shell of its egg. She drops it in surprise, the shell cracking open on the hard wooden table. The bird within starts to move, impossibly so, even for a healthy chick of its age. It stands on malformed feet and takes shaky steps forwards, its milky dead eyes locked onto Lyore, paralyzed on her stool. With a piercing shriek, it runs forwards as best it can, before collapsing under the weight of its own body at the edge of the table.
The cry shakes the Aviarist from her stupor, the stool clattering to the ground behind her as she almost trips off it in her haste. She backs up, trying to understand the scene that has unfolded before her, when the hatchery is filled with the sound of cracking eggs. Dozens upon dozens of eggs start to shift and shake in their places, not all but certainly more than would be expected.
As ethereal shrieking fills the room, Lyore stumbles backwards, fixated on the fledgling choir of rot before her. Unaware of the stairs spiraling down behind her, her foot catches the hem of her robe.
At the bottom of the stairs, one last egg cracks.
~=~=~=~
A bellowing cry shatters the silence in the early morning stillness around Lake Ladure, followed by a scream. Emerging from a furrow in the ground, carved from beneath, stands a cow. Her flank has rotted away, revealing organs that twist and pulse with new life, and ribs encrusted with reddish crystals. From her head, the same crystalline growths form ersatz horns, each movement cutting into the flayed, purulent skin from which they burst.
It is an unlucky farmhand who is the first to encounter her, resting his eyes beneath the tree that marked the burial site. Startled from his nap by the shifting earth, he barely has time to register the situation before her horns bury themselves in his chest. His desperate cry for help is choked into silence by the aspirated blood bubbling from his mouth.
The cow lowers her head, allowing the body to slump back to its final rest beneath the ancient oak. Her tight lips curl into the approximation of a snarl as she begins to feed upon the sweet prize her horns uncovered. It is in this manner that she is found by the group of farmers coming to investigate the strange noises in the fields, muzzle bloodied and entrails hanging from teeth not designed to tear flesh.
“Big Anne?”, calls a gentle voice, far more comfortable in connection with this animal than any of the people around it. “It is Lucas. You know me.”
A handful of others in the group have already begun to run back to the nearby buildings; some seeking body and blade, others seeking refuge. Those that remain brandish simple tools and try to call Lucas back, calling him fool boy and touched in the head. But for a young man with no connections bar his brother and his cow, the pleas fall on deaf ears.
For a moment, it seems as though whatever force animates the beast is not strong enough to overcome this bond. Then, an outstretched hand is crushed between powerful molars, bones cracking beneath the force. The farmers rally, doing their best to pull Lucas free and to fight back with hoe and fork.
All that remains when armed help finally arrives are broken bodies and a broken fence.
Game Information
For the second time, priests of Arcadian would call upon the power of The Ardent Mind to blanket Weiland in a Ward of Ironclad Vigor. The Ward would see the people of Weiland less affected by the mundane illnesses of winter and accelerate the harvest of wheat and herbs across the region. Or it would have, had it not been replaced by something far more sinister and powerful.
Across Weiland, many animals that die - whether naturally or by human hand - are raised in undeath shortly afterwards. There have been widespread attacks by raised animals, particularly around farms and the Wolfden Woods, resulting in some deaths.
No humans have been raised in this manner, nor has there been any outbreak of Blasserstreit or other disease.
There will be additional information regarding this effect for the High Priest of Arcadian and the High Priest of Lumos.
Farm investments in Weiland will find they have produced as if 1 Tier lower (or at half if they are Tier 1) due to the increased costs involved with managing livestock.
There will be additional information for the Sheriff of Carningsfield regarding Big Anne.
Bordevarians may opt to be affected by the following roleplay prompt:
If Onyx Aristocracy necromancers can raise animals in Weiland from afar, why not in the Madre Campo? This may be the first step to doing the same to humans. Whenever you hear an animal’s cry you are struck by a sudden fear, and should look around to make sure the source is not nearby.
Risk Losing Everything at a Stroke
“Duke Kore Vespera, Master of House Vespera has failed the mandates required of them by the Wise Council, and the Crown. By the powers of the Wise Council, Kore Vespera and all who share her name and allegiance shall have their noble title and status removed from them. To serve the Crown and the People of Bordevar is a great weight, one that should not be given lightly.” - Ser Artenor the Wolf, speaking as a member of the Wise Council in Weiland Township, 26th of August 226.
The role of nobility within the Kingdom is to provide access to power, wealth, and responsibility to those best suited to it. It is to provide a formalised path of ambition for the commonfolk and the children of nobles to see how they might better themselves in a world that so often lacks clear paths through its malaise. Nobles are granted access to the highest levels of power and have far more say in the rulership of the realm, its policies, and its future.
The system is abused through nepotism and the distribution of resources. It can produce petty tyrants in the same breath as revealing glorious heroes. But when the people of Bordevar cast their glances across their borders to the chaos of many cultures around them, they stand resolute in this tradition as the right way to do things.
Highest of the nobles, is the title of Duke. Ruling vast swathes of crown lands in the name of the King, Dukes wield immense power afforded to them by their title, but also implicitly through social capital and their good standing. But such titles carry the weight of expectation. Mandates laid upon these titles from the Wise Council that rules in the King’s stead are non-negotiable and failure to succeed in the minimum of them will see your noble title revoked and the noble titles of your entire house as collateral.
This punishment has been rendered this season, seeing House Vespera removed from the Peers of the Realm by the writ of the Wise Council. As the Realm looks to the heroes of Bordevar for their next Duke of Heartsgrave, the power of the Wise Council to destroy legacy is evident.
But the work of Kore Vespera can be seen. Far to the South West of Weiland stands ‘The Manor’. This vast cliff-clutching expanse of halls, keeps, and dormitories was once the winter abode of King Artourious Bordevar, where he could watch over this realm in brooding calm. When the King died, the Manor became his resting place, and when his body was removed by the Order of the Hallowed Word, it became abandoned.
But quietly, over the last year and by the order of the once Duke, The Manor was slowly transformed. Walls and roofs were repaired, and those people who were suffering were invited to see if the old manse could become a new township, known as ‘King’s Vigil’. This past winter the grounds have sheltered its first population of people, who live in dormitories similar to the vast Lerona Mere boarding houses. They walk the foothills of the Steinvaults, hunting, gathering, and tending to gardens. The Grand feasting hall has been rebuilt as a public house, with its small bar and handful of tables impossibly dwarfed by the scale of the construction around them. A small painting of the Duke who made it happen rests above the wine bottles, affectionately naming it ‘The Hall of Vespera’.
Elsewhere in King’s Vigil, the King’s old winter garden has been deemed too beautiful, and too ornate to simply be broken down and used for carrots and beets. Instead passing to the hands of the new Duke to do with as they will.
Perhaps most importantly, and most morbid, is the matter of The King's grave. The Mausoleum of Artourious Bordevar is quite simple on the surface, but with a subterranean complex large enough to function not only as his sepulcher, but also to house the leadership of the Order of the Hallowed Word and nearly twenty knights who were in the King’s eternal service. Now the empty sarcophagus gathers dust, its internal vessel removed, and there are fears that this place of national mourning will become a cellar for firewood, or an emergency goat-stable.
In response to this fear, the Wise Council took action, Not only naming the Mausoleum itself crown lands, but instating the position of Sepulchral Sentinel, the Knight-Protector of the Mausoleum, the Keeper of the Grave, and the Crown’s Executioner.
But this is not the end of the Wise Council’s work this season. More and more the nobles bother for news about the would-be-monarch. While complaints about the lack of a will and the meddling of foreign claimants have failed to stall matters, the Wise Council has surprised all the nobles of the Realm by presenting three possible futures for this title. While the Wise Council’s requirements for the naming of a new Monarch are well known, these three options have been carefully crafted alongside the Civil Service and have been handed to the Nobles of the Realm to understand what it would mean to have a new Monarch in Bordevar.
Game Information
The Duke of Heartsgrave title is up for election this summit after the previous Duke failed their mandates. There will be information for the next Duke of Heartsgrave regarding the loss of nobility of the former Duke.
The Manor has been reestablished, not as a museum or monument to the lost glory of House Bordevar, but as a small settlement in its own right, known as King’s Vigil. Nearly two hundred people now live within its halls, grounds and outbuildings. There will be decisions available for the Duke of Heartsgrave regarding this new settlement. In addition, there are two new investments available for the Duke of Heartsgrave to distribute, both are within this settlement in the territory of Heartsgrave:
- The Hall of Vespera (Tier 2 Business)
- The Greenwood Hall (Tier 2 Herb Garden)
With the resettlement of The Manor, a new title has been created; The Sepulchral Sentinel.
The title, Monarch of Bordevar, has been created, although the circumstances required for its election have not been met.
What's Yours is Evidence
“A scared man.”
“Really?”
Hoddert nodded as he sipped from his short tankard of Lerona Mere beer. It was thin, less frothy than he would like, and tasted vaguely… fruity? As the tankard had been used to hold cider or mead and not properly cleaned.
“He knows that he’s the last bulwark against the Senate falling off the cliff into some sort of Lerona Mere swamp of infighting, or an Iron Valley ice field of fighting everyone.”
Warwick shook his head and lowered the broadsheet that was showing an only slightly characterful image of Lord Sigismund. He opened the thin paper newsprint and held up an image of the two Lerona Mere senators with a cocked eyebrow.
“Vampire.” Grumbled Hoddert as he pointed at the drawing of Senator Jacques Di Zisseau.
“Clown.” He grinned as his assessment fell on the comical image of Senator Gisett Triboulet. Warwick rolled his singular eye as his companion giggled into his beer.
“What do you mean then?” he challenged, with a tone better suited to telling off a dog. Hoddert burped clumsily and made a show of thinking heavily.
“Zisseau is only in the job to get more clients to bother magistrates with, and he really wants to run for Lerona Mere parliament, rather than senatorship. Triboulett is a patron of the arts, with all the stupid, vapid, expensive bullshit that entails.” Hoddert finished his assessment of their host senators, and downed his beer in one last gulp, while Warwick glanced around the dark taproom with his one good eye. Back in Weiland a similar assessment of Lord Sigismund would have been grounds for a punch up. Either the people of Madre Campo have worse hearing or worse opinions of their senators.
“And I’ll save you the trouble of finding pictures of the rest of that pack of rats.” Began Hoddert as he leaned back magnanimously.
“Patriot, Puppet, Warmonger, Puppet, Traitor.”
Warwick shook his head as he waved off the barman who was beginning to pour a refill for Hoddert.
“Where do you get the time to learn all this?” He asked incredulously as Hoddert began to strap his studded cuirass back up and reached for his sword belt.
“What do you think our job is mate? Come here and make friends? Arrest a few fookin’ bandits then head home tell Wallace everything’s all hunkey doory?” Hoddert was shaking his hips as he let the sword belt and its violent cargo settle under his heavy belly.
“Mark my words Warwick, next time we’re back here, we’ll be carrying a writ of arrest for the whole lot of 'em, signed by the fookin’ King 'imself.”
Warwick just shook his head as the two rangers wandered back out into the night, undoubtedly in the pursuit of just another bandit, but only Stallia knows what the future held for these King’s Rangers, The Concord, and its people.
Game Information
There will be a report for the Senator of Weiland regarding their discoveries in Madre Campo and Priado Expanse. Concerns that The Concord may be shot through with cults, cabals, and spies, there will be options to take further, more extensive actions when this power is used again. These more extensive options will target not just off-screen concerns, but also heroic actions that may be interpreted as acting against the Concord.
There will be decisions for the Royal Ranger, and the Senator of Weiland regarding corruption and failures within the other Concordian nations.
The First Banner and the Iron Brawlers have gained the following trait, reflecting Bordevarian distrust of other Concordian forces;
| Name | Casualties Inflicted Mod | Casualties Suffered Mod | Claim Mod | Special |
| Untrusting of Fools | - | -10% | - | Armies and Fleets that partake in campaigns alongside this army, that do not belong to the Kingdom of Bordevar, suffer +10% casualties. This effect stacks. |
Hunt What Hunts the Innocent, Until it Hunts You
Inside the table's circle,
Inside the hunter’s circle
Under the sacred sword.
Under the sacred sword
A knight must vow to follow
A knight must come to know
The code that is unending,
That its hunger is unending
Unending as the table—
Unending as the feud
A ring by honor bound.
Between the woods and crown
A knight is sworn to valor,
A hunter is sworn to hunt
His heart knows only virtue,
His heart knows only greed
His blade defends the helpless,
His arrow strikes down his prey
His might upholds the weak,
His might undoes his game
His word speaks only truth,
His word speaks only hunger
His wrath undoes the wicked.
His wrath undoes the virtuous
The right can never die,
The wrong can never live
If one man still recalls.
If one man still remains
The words are not forgot,
The debt is not forgot
If one voice speaks them clear.
If one voice speaks them clear
The code forever shines,
The hunt forever holds
If one heart holds it bright.
If one feast remains uneaten.
Game Information
Despite the Hirshkind not being seen around Lake Ladure, The Rickon’s Tier continues to produce nothing this season with its workers too terrified to return.
The Hirschkind has been sighted hunting within Everguarde, specifically targeting Knights.
Everguarde has gained the trait “The Hirschkind Hunts”. The Sableheart has lost this trait.
| Trait | +Cas. Inf. | +Cas. Suff. | Special |
| The Hirschkind Hunts | - | 5% | Bordevarian or Greenweald armies that leave this territory suffer 100 casualties. If the army remains in the territory and fights, it only suffers +5% casualties as listed here.
Only affects Greenweald armies and Bordevarian Armies. |
There will be further information and decisions to be made for the Grandmaster of The Knights of the Everguarde and the Sheriff of Carningsfield.
