Part of Winds of the World - Winter 223
Velinda watched the blood roll down the sands, cooking in the midday sun. There was so much of it and it was so red against the orange grit. It was beautiful in a way; the final flood of rain, brought early through sacrifice of the holy. She tried to laugh but her chest was weak, all her glory spilling out onto the ground. It wasn’t even a bad wound; an arrow through the shoulder. She had seen tourney bouts with worse strikes.
But this place had a way of things - this Andashi land was hungry for the blood of the righteous. And so the young Squire bled onto the ground, dying from a hole in the shoulder. She supposed that she minded a great deal about this, but it felt so hard to muster up indignant rage. It felt hard to muster up much of anything.
All around, on the dunes and valleys, there were many like her. Some were already gone, their wounds so extreme that they barely laid upon the soil before they were consumed by its thirst. Many others were in the slow death of the hungry sand, watching blood that should not flow forth seep from them like the promises they failed to keep.
She had promised her sister that she would come back for her. Take her to live in a noble’s house. She had promised her mentor that servitude was not dying for Bordevar but living for it. She had told herself that she would be a Knight in the style of The Warden, leading Bordevar into the future through the flames. Instead she was here, bleeding to death, her back resting against more gold than she could ever hold in her hands.
The blinding fortress she leant against was like that of a Bordevarian Keep, save for its bulbous central tower and tall corner spires, all made from gold and burning in the Summer sun. It hurt your eyes to even look at it, and had a habit of starting fires of any scrub foolish enough to bathe in its reflection.
“You are a dying human. This seems foolish,” boomed a hollow voice to Velinda the Squires right. This time she did laugh, blood in her teeth as one fell from her jaw
“I guess I am. Not everyone completes their valours,” she giggled. Why was that funny?
The tall soldier of gold and bronze stood next to her, blood across its armoured form. The Guardians of the Blinding Fortress were strange beings; identical in their form and domineering in presence. They patrolled their walls and slew The Zekartaal when they flowed against them. When struck down, they simply became part of the soil, flowing like molten metal.
“Remember; to struggle is divine. Your struggle is the mark of a golden soul,” it boomed down at her. She didn’t move. The golden figure knelt and stared blankly at the young woman’s fading eyes.
“Human? Don’t you understand? To struggle is divine.”
Silence.
“Human?”
There was no response as the sand drank deep her scarlet ichor, and the Squire breathed shallow her final mortality. The warrior stood and returned to its patrol.
“Perhaps it is not so foolish.”
---
The First Banner of Bordevar, those who made The Miracle against The Onyx Aristocracy, stood against Sister Oak, the Warchief of The Zekartaal. In the north of The Tribelands, among the sands of the Tanebar Sea, The Knights of Bordevar intended to throw Oak to the ground, finishing a battle that started two years ago.
But the will of The Spheres turned this battlefield into a slaughterhouse. Divine magics woven by The Concord’s priests called forth blood and gold in equal measure. A gold and brass fortress, blessed by Panoply, erupted from the sands and blinded all who witnessed it with its majesty. The land hungered for blood and death, causing simple wounds to be fatal and spurning the abilities of surgeons and healers alike.
The Concordian forces arrayed were a motley lot. The Knights of the First Banner are some of The Concord’s greatest heroes. Names like Sir Farendil the Just, Countessa Quinn Quickarm and Lord Artemis Grayheart. But above all of them is Sir Amelia The Warden, Banneret of the First Banner, Master of House Avalon and Bringer of the Miracle. With a righteous bloodlust and steel-clad violence the Master of House Avalon made The Tribelands the site of her rage. The First Banner was joined by over a thousand mercenaries from across The Concord, a common sight for the Andashi in recent years.
By season's end, the First Banner was once again scarred but unbroken. The Knights of Bordevar once again prove that they are willing to kill and die in the name of The Concord. The losses are severe but glorious.
In exchange, Sister Oak’s army was shattered, fleeing to the north in broken warbands. The Zekartaal raiders crossed into Villacres and kept fleeing. The furthest scouts of the Andashi reported that the Zekartaal warriors are gone from Villacres as well, returning to Sarimento and Verlorenherz. Sister Oak’s location is unfortunately unknown; the Warleader of the Zekartaal was last seen at Abqala, but has since been lost in the sands.
Victory to the Banner, Victory to Andash, Victory to The Concord!
Game Information
Concordian forces successfully combined divine magic, mercenary might and sheer violence to defeat Sister Oak, routing her army and shattering them. The stragglers of the Zekartaal fighters retreated into the surrounding countryside. The Zekartaal still hold Villacres, with Zekartaal villages and roving bands hiding out there. But no military might that worships the teachings of ancient Zekartaal remains on the sands of Andash.
Characters who elected to take part in the campaign will have haunting stories like those from scripture. Harsh battles under a baking desert sun, golden soldiers of Panoply standing shoulder to shoulder with Bordevarian knights, the lifeblood of ally and foe alike slipping into the sands despite the efforts of magic and bandage.
The following Military Investments have suffered heavy losses and are considered damaged:
- Baron Kal’Killion Mon’star
- Huntsmarshall Arratay Carrick
- Vendetta
- Tarn Parry
- Elora D’Arcy
- Wulfwaro
- Jotuun of Baelags Holdfast
- Raul El-Obregon
- Fawz El-Murajil
- Ash El-Anka
- Ser Amelia the Warden
- Hunstmarshall Hahn
All characters who fought in The Tribelands alongside a military investment will find that they have a traumatic wound in their character bag. The Rivers of Blood that flowed under the sands of The Tribelands made combat even more dangerous this past season and these wounds reflect persistent injuries sustained during the campaign that have been enduring in their resistance to healing,frequently reopening, returning or becoming infected. Hopefully the skilled doctors of Passage will be able to offer respite.
The Concord once again has complete control over The Tribelands. With that comes a lot of difficult decisions and dangerous decisions for the Andashi people as they assess the damage Sister Oak has left in her wake while also looking to their future.