The Concord feels the weight of war with each step forward. The struggles of each Realm combine to ensure their foes are the enemies of all who side with the young nation, bringing with them boons and banes of great consequence. One such boon, following a great victory now years in the past, even lightened the burden for a short yet vastly impactful time. Whispers and rumours abound of what was required to enact this rare and gratefully taken chance, but the truth matters little as the winds of war finally begin to blow.
After so long, the Zekartaal engine of war begins to stir into life once more.
Where Are Your Sheep, Dear Shepherd?
The screams echo all through the vast war camp of Verlorenherz. Many ignore them, but those who are new to the sound shift uneasily in their half-sleep. Some still, awake and staring at what little sky they can see, appear mournful in ways that cannot be explained in words. Tonight the screams are not alone, joined instead by the voices of one more, wordlessly howling as if their very everything was being torn from them. Eventually, the screams would stop, but the night would not remain quiet.
The harsh sobs that followed were far more heartbreaking than the screams.
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“How dare you question my resolve!” snarls a voice barely known by the war leaders who stare with tired eyes. “I earned my place, as all of us did. I do not see the grudge in my dreams as you do, but do not dare say I do not hold it in my heart.”
Brother Ash tilts his head, not unlike the way Thorn used to when he was amused, a sly grin threatening to break out from his otherwise stoic face. “Calm yourself, Alder. If you did not carry the will of those before us then we would be having a very different talk. Be rageful, but listen to me. I have a plan.”
A scoff with all the grace of a bull breaks the words of Ash “Do not listen to the druid who drags our people through memories of pain.” Sister Oak, donned still in rippling Thunder Oak armour and gripping her club with white knuckles, continues to speak in a low tone. “You will think to hold here and wait for a moment that won’t come. No longer. You are not the bird, don’t pretend to think like him.”
Quiet fills the room, lasting for what feels like an age to Alder, finding it uncomfortable for a first meeting with these figures of legend. Oak’s eyes, carrying a great weight that could only come from restless sleep, do not leave the crudely carved map before her. Ash, his movements unusually sluggish, eventually raises a hand and places it upon a land marked in blood.
“Then do what you must, Sister. I will be here, waiting for your return yet again.”
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The war host of the Zekartaal, met within Verlorenherz for a few short days, was many thousands strong. A great size that could only be considered a horde, yet driven from itself by the ambitions and nature of those that lead them. What could have been one of the strongest united forces in all of Southern Esterra instead finds itself divided in goal, if not in purpose.
Sister Oak, flanked by her Eagles and thousands of war-hungry warriors, leaves the forests for the sands. There is no march, no care for who stands where and why, just the ever moving form of the Zekartaal’s strongest hero. She who was struck down is simply followed by those that believe in her, desiring to prove themselves as worthy of the name they bear.
Even in the newest of leaders there is a hidden ambition worn by too many faces. Alder holds control over those beneath her through a constant battle of resolve, breaking any who would doubt her with her flaming conviction. There is no fear in those that follow her, but a respect simply awaiting an opportunity to reveal itself. Still she holds steady.
The different beasts of Brother Ash find some small peace beneath the shades of the forest, glad to be out of the burning sun. Handlers and druids taking a well-needed rest while their leader plots and schemes in a way that only few had seen in years past. His grip like iron, there is none who would oppose him should he continue along his promised path.
The Zekartaal move, slowly but surely, positioning themselves to better achieve their ambitions.
Game Information
The forces of the Zekartaal shift and move beyond the territories of The Concord.
Brother Ash sits within Verlorenherz, close to the border of Resinderholz and The Tribelands.
Sister Oak trades places with Ash, venturing into Villacres and remaining there for the time being.
Alder, a fresher face within the Zekartaal military landscape, maintains her hold within Verlorenherz.
The Concord lacks much information against the Zekartaal and so opportunities to disrupt them are rare, largely focused on mass actions of Concordian Heroes. Contrary to any rumour, The Concord and the Zekartaal remain at war.
I Ask For Your Future, I Beg For Your Past
Across The Concord there are whispers of what an age-old foe might be planning. The Zekartaal have been quiet for so long, that despite a lack of invasion upon Concordian land, it is hard to believe that nothing is afoot. Eyes and ears across Resinderholz and The Tribelands stay pointed into Villacres and Verlorenherz, hoping that the enemy stay their hand further yet. Little and less is known about their goals, but a collection of rumours and whispers give some clue to one of any number of potential futures.
None have seen Alder in person, but somehow the name has been whispered through all the havens and towns of Resinderholz. The force she leads have come from North of Ritterswald; they have not yet proven themselves on the field of battle against The Concord’s armies. They have not been seen crossing the border in any number, seeming content to stay within the spoils of their past, but surely this cannot last forever. Whispers spread that Alder is not one to sit and defend a place that does not truly belong to her, but none can truly find the source of these rumours.
For now, it seems the people of Resinderholz could care less about an enemy who stays away.
The Harbringer’s Nightmare is but a small part of the border to Verlorenherz, yet it draws worry enough. To the people of Krezenberg, it is a place to watch even more carefully than the forests around and beyond it, but the chance for carelessness is dashed by the keen eyes of those who have felt loss before. It is these watchful eyes that see the strange lights over their horizon, flashing sparks of colours in green and gold that can only be ritualistic in nature. Nearby in Abqala, the same lights can be seen reflecting in the peaks of its waterfalls. While perhaps a rather captivating sight, the dread it filled its people with would not be quelled quickly.
Some in particular, those with good memories and harsh experience, know that the rituals of Ash must soon come to bear.
The Tanebar Sea still holds the bloody scars of war not too far gone, its sands long since burying corpses far from home. Those Nomadic folk that still travel near the dangerous border of Villacres have told tales of caution and worry that feel all too capable of opening these once-closed scars. Arrows, fletched in yellow and gold, shot as if simply practising range across lengthy distances, found and presented as proof to those that would question such tales. Hope remains that they are simple remnants of the years, but the wise know better.
To practise is to wish to improve. An art such as archery is not unique, but the skills of Oak’s Eagles are an all too present reminder to veterans of the bloody sands.
Game Information
The actions of the Zekartaal war host are not hidden, but no great attack on The Concord comes. Instead, rumours and reports tell of bolstering forces, consolidation of territory, and ritualistic magics. Much of this can give a potential indication of the future, but the pathfinders of The Civil Service wasted no time in working to destroy Ash’s chance of casting his strong druidic magics. Their job is not one of directness, but instead one that allows others better suited to the task to get where they need to with speed.
If a Zekartaal army was to attack Resinderholz from Verlorenherz, such an action remains invisible to Concordian forces. Instead, those armies will appear to be taking a variety of other possible actions. Until The Concord defeats the Harbringer’s Nightmare, this effect will remain in place.
A Strategic Opportunity will be presented to The Warchamber at the coming Summit to disrupt Ash and possibly prevent his rituals from coming to completion.