As an army emerges from the darkest depths, brine-covered and blood-hungry, The Concord marches to protect its shores. Against these foes most oceanic and obscure, Bordevar’s most vigilant and venerable veterans once more enter the fray.
But what weight will step upon which neck?
The boot of plated steel, or the one of sodden flesh?
How will The Concord fare against their fathomless foes?
Shining Steel and Salt-Crusted Savagery
Over the Autumn season, the people of Bayward South had been under great siege, as throngs of Drowned crawled from the oceans and began to move steadily across the countryside. Few places were safe outside of heavily-barricaded townships, but with supplies beginning to dwindle, things were beginning to look bleak for the Valleyfolk.
Their saviours would come clad in shining steel. Supported by a few small clusters of Valleyfolk, The First Banner of Bordevar would march into the Bayward South with a force nearly six thousand strong. There, armed with heavy shields and righteous fury, they would attempt to beat the intruders back.
If The Drowned thought their sea-based ambush would give them an edge, they would soon find out just how mistaken they truly were.
~=~=~=~
By the small hamlet of Eadness, one of dozens of villages scattered across Bolsterlee’s vast plains, a battalion of Concordian knights in dark steel armour marched in near-lockstep, cutting a wide path through the goatsgrass. As they moved, dozens of pairs of eyes scanned the waist-high grasses, searching for foes with whose blood they could whet their blades.
They would patrol for several hours with no signs of their foe, but the Bordevarians did not falter. Then, just as the sun was threatening to graze the horizon, a rustle. Their leader, Ser Mordevere the Dauntless, held up her gauntleted fist and the battalion came to a halt near instantly. They fell into a deathly quiet, and waited with bated breath. There! On their left, barely audible under the howling winds; a quiet, dreadful chant now all too familiar to the Order of the Tempered Blade.
Ser Mordevere drew her sword and, in practiced silence, the knights fell upon their foes.
The Drowned, attempting to lie in ambush, never stood a chance.
~=~=~=~
In Jaalstead, the warfront was strangely sporadic, though no less deadly. Unlike the earthen fields of Bayward South, the home of the grand Sea Hall jutted precariously into the Promised Gold, its many dozens of piers and jetties splintering off from the township proper. Day and night alike, the Drowned would crawl up the rain-slicked pilings, rush to ensnare the unlucky few outside, and drag them down into their fathomless depths. By the time the civilians in Jaalstead were ready to fight, the Drowned would have vanished once more.
But to the First Banner of Bordevar, this was nothing more than a nuisance. If the Drowned wished to slither from their watery burrows, the knights would be there. Waiting.
~=~=~=~
A knight swung his broadsword down, and shouted celebratorily as the head of one such Drowned was cleaved straight from its shoulders. Its body slumped to the side and was swiftly kicked unceremoniously back into the sea, its blood leaching into the saltwater.
“My fourth beheading today!” he shouted to his fellow knight on the neighbouring pier. “You’re falling behind, Ser Bragaine!”
“Oh just you wait, Ser Osric!” The other knight shouted back, resting his gilded greatsword on his shoulder. “There’s still plenty of time.”
The water behind Ser Bragaine the Deft sloshed violently as a cold and clammy hand erupted from the sea, aiming for his ankle. A moment later, that same pruned hand was pinned to the dock, the Drowned’s blood seeping into the salt-crusted wood.
“Get ready!” Ser Bragaine shouted to his allies. “The Damps are getting feisty again!”
With the clatter of armour, the many dozens of knights on the docks of Jaalstead readied their swords once more.
~=~=~=~
On the beaches of the Bay, the onslaught was ferocious. An exceptionally wide warfront and shorefront alike, this is where the greatest proportion of the troops would be sent. As The Spheres would have it, this decision would turn out to be the right one.
Day and night alike, hundreds of clusters of Drowned would rise from the dark ocean, marching forward as salt water poured from their rusted armour. Any who fell in battle would be dragged into the sea once more, their slot quickly filled by another Drowned soldier. Their numbers would be almost impossible to read, not at all helped by the appearance of some of their less-than-human allies.
~=~=~=~
Ser Elaine the Indignant groaned into her paperwork. A vein in her temple throbbed in time with the bastard Drowned’s endless melody. She had set her tent up as far from the water’s edge as she was allowed, but it seemed even that was not far enough to escape it.
Caaaaaahn yoouuuu heeeaaarr…
She signed her name on the missive with a flourish, folded it, and stood. Her squire, Dominic something-or-other, jerked awake from his dozing. A gangly teen of seventeen years, he blinked as Elaine thrust the note into his hand.
“Give this to the Valley Senator. Instructions for his next defensive shift.”
Thhee seeeaaaa’ss grreaaat caaaaalll…
“Y-yes, Ser Elaine!” Dominic squeaked, causing the older knight to wince slightly. He scurried towards the tentflap and lifted it with one arm.
“I’ll make sure…” He froze, his already pale skin now ashen.
“Oh my Spheres… I-is that a kraken?”
Elaine felt her blood turn cold. She pushed past Dominic, and surveyed the cool night. There in the water, surrounded by dozens of half-submerged figures was a huge hulking shape barely visible in the darkness. As she stared, one of its many tentacles flicked towards the First Banner’s camps and ensnared a fully armoured knight with ease.
Tooooo ooooceeeeaaaann deeeppthhhssss…
The knight whose name Ser Elaine did not know struggled, but the tentacle seemed to only squeeze tighter. As the sounds of a dreadful scream and shearing metal cut through the endless chanting, the knight fell limp.
A wave of boiling fury surged through Ser Elaine. She rushed down the coastal dunes, dodging between her fellow knights as they drew their weaponry and moved onto the beach proper.
“SPEARS AT THE READY!” She screamed, and behind her a dozen soldiers raised their javelins.
“HOLD…”
Thhhiiissss laaaaandd wiiillll faaaaalll…
“LAUNCH!”
~=~=~=~
Despite it all, the First Banner managed to hold firm against their amphibious foes. Their mysterious goals seemingly foiled, the Drowned would slip back into the Bay of Promised Gold almost as quickly as they had arrived. The people of Bayward South could breathe a sigh of relief, at least for the moment.
Game Information
Over the past winter season, the First Banner of Bordevar and a small handful of Concordian Investments marched into the tall goatsgrass of Bolsterlee’s Bayward South, to hold the territory against the invading army known to The Concord as The Fathomless Depths.
By the end of the season, it appears that The Concord’s cautious defence has paid off, and the First Banner will enter the Spring Summit with a strength of 5600.
Rebuffed by the Concordian wall, The Fathomless Depths has retreated once again into the Bay of Promised Gold, with scouts suggesting the enemy ended the campaign at a strength of 3800. While these forces descend into the depths, they are impossible for us to follow or even block with our fleets or our landbound forces. However strategists hypothesise that a fleet would offer harm to these enemy forces if they attempted to retreat through them, albeit without blocking them entirely.
The Concord has not been able to locate these foes since their submersion.
To Weather the Endless Storm
I swim.
I go along the down.
I find small greens!
I like small greens.
I swim.
My brother is beside me.
He look like me.
I look like me.
What do I look like?
I swim.
The not-corals are back.
I do not like the not-corals.
They make their bad sounds and sway like small greens.
I like small greens!
I swim.
The not-corals took my brother.
They make their bad sounds and now he is with them.
My brother is not moving right.
I do not like the not-corals.
I swim.
The up is dark now.
It was dark sometimes, but light sometimes too.
Now the up is only dark.
I am scared.
What is scared?
I swim.
The blue is not safe now.
I swim and swim and do not move.
The blue push back on me too hard.
I think I must leave my blue.
I swim.
I do not know where I am now.
The small greens here taste strange.
I miss my brother.
But the up is not dark, and the blue is safe.
I swim.
Game Information
An enormous storm has appeared over the Bay of Promised Gold West, stretching so far as to encompass large swathes of Mancante Terra and Ventarossa. The Bay of Promised Gold West has gained the following trait:
| Name | Casualties Inflicted Mod | Casualties Suffered Mod | Claim Mod | Special |
| The Great Storm | - | 20% | - | This trait does not affect armies or fleets belonging to The Drowned. Increased movement cost entering this territory by two. |
All Naval investments in Mancante Terra have been damaged due to the lack of a sheltered port in the region.
All Business investments in Marepato and La Dove Dormani will find that they have produced as if they were one tier lower (or half if they are tier one) this past season due to the storm driving away potential enterprise.
All Business investments in Bayward North and Bayward South will find that they have produced as if they were one tier higher this past season, as the surge in fish populations and relatively peaceful weather brings new business and coin to the territories.