Calradia

Suno was a large town with high stone walls and bright banners shining in the breeze. If ever Charles needed a reminder that his was but a small fief on the borders of a greater kingdom, this was it. He was hailed at the gates, but his banner and bearing of a Swadian lord drilled in him since birth gave the guards little inclination to delay him more than they needed to. A small crowd gathered to watch his entry either to cheer or gaze at him curiously along with Asiha and his two horsemen. When they entered the keep of the city, it was clear that they were among the last to arrive. Lord Despin himself stood to greet him, clad in scarlet colored fur roads and a welcoming smile on his old face.

"Lord Charles Hossberg. Welcome to to Suno," he said, greeting Charles with his official title for which he was grateful for he could feel the stares of the nobility on him, sizing him up. Judging him. He made the correct bow to his host.

"I thank you for this honor, Lord Despin."

"Now that you are here, we may begin the tournament. Shall you compete?"

"Yes, I shall."

Soon enough, both he and Aisha were sorted into a team with two other fighters and engaged in duels with other teams of four. Wielding a curved centaur and kite shield like his own, the two worked well together as they often fought in tandem against their opponents, though early on one of their teammates was eliminated followed by the other in the next round. Eventually, Aisha was eliminated and Charles faced one last opponent.

Dranton was a large man clad in thick plate mail and wielding a huge sword and shield. He regularly competed in these tournaments. Rumor had it that he made his living from the winnings he earned. He was bigger and more experienced than Charles was, not to mention he had thicker armor. The young lord knew that if he was to win, he would have to be quick and tire the man out. As soon as they entered the arena, they bowed to each other and they began.

Dranton didn't waste any time. He moved forward and slashed with his sword but rather than block it with his shield, Charles stepped to the side and aimed blow of his own, but it was easily blocked by the man's shield which he used to try to bash into Charles' head, but thankfully, Charles managed to dodge. This set the tone for the whole fight. While Charles managed to make nicks through the gaps of Dranton's armor and even managed to bang his helmeted head once with his shield, the man was undaunted. Neither was Charles able to dodge all the bigger man's blows. His shield sported quite a few dents and he himself had a few cuts as well. Slicked with sweat, Charles made another stab into the gaps of Dranton's armor, but this sword stuck and when Dranton's shield collided with his helmeted head, he knew no more.

The crowd would cheer, with roars and clapping they would be leaning over the rails in their excitement, it took moments before they were calmed by the urging of Lord Despin who stood in the wooden box overhang, overlooking the tournament grounds. A broad smile would be on his face, the show was splendid, if Charles had yet to prove himself before, he had now proven himself to be a capable warrior. He himself would clap, jeering with the trial and the grueling battle. Dranton was a strong opponent, and a seasoned tournament veteran, there was no shame in losing to the man. In moments there would be boxes set in the middle of the tournament grounds. The soft dirt churning and crunching beneath Lord Despin's feet as he walked to them, it all would be spotted with the blood of the brave men that had enrolled in the tournament, sweat, and maybe even tears.

Three men stood in a line, two of them noticeably more bloody than the other. To the third place winner he would give a nod and extend a handshake and then a ceremonial dagger to which the value was equal to that of three hundred denars. And then he would move on to the second place winner, looking Charles in the eye with a grin, "You would have done your father proud, Lord Charles." And with that, and a handshake, he would take a silver jewel encrusted sword to which the value was equal to that of one thousand, four hundred and fifty denars from the displayed hands of a servant that had rushed forward, and present it to the second place victor.

Moving on to the first place victor he would give a nod, "Always a pleasure, Dranton." And at his ushering three servants would stumble forth presenting a chest, full of three thousand denars to the first place victor. The crowd would roar once more, reveling in the splendor of the tournament and it's victors.

Baldwin was camped along with his troops in a forest near the village of Ayyike which laid south of Reyvadin. They were waiting for the sun to set and planned to attack under the cover of darkness. Feeling a bit restless he walked to the rest of the camp where his "troops" rested. He saw his men sitting around a small fire drinking wine and eating. Looking at his men Baldwin yelled in his deep dark voice, "Men in a few hours we will attack the village of Ayyike. After this raid we should have enough money and resources to create a base for us in the mountains. So I need all of you to be prepared and ready to fight by then." The men quickly stood up and started to equip themselves with their armors and weapons. As the men dispersed he saw his second in command William. William was an older bandit in his forties, while he was not as strong as in his younger days, he made it up with decades of experience. Baldwin thought about calling him over to further discuss their plans, but it could wait until after the raid.

Thee hours later the raid had been completed without losing a single man. The entire village had been sleeping and were unable to mount any kind of resistance. He was extremely proud of how well his troops had managed to accomplish. They had also managed to gather the last things required to build their planned base in the Vaegir mountains.

(OOC: I will finish the rest of this tomorrow due to how late at night it is right now in my country)

Agnes became alarmed when Kavar had suggested she join them for hunting.

"My lord, I can't see how a servant girl such as I would be of any use during a hunting expedition, but if you desire for me to accompany you I shall readily do so." She said.

Understanding that hunting rarely ever involves people without the appropriate skills such as servants, Agnes took this as a gesture of generosity from his lordship to relieve her from her duties for a while. She smiled, feeling a rather warm feeling of appreciation in this. Following closely behind him, "I'll prepare some food and other supplies for the journey with the other servants."

Kavar shook his head, "You can carry things and you can ride a horse, good enough for now." He paused thinking on it, the trip shouldn't take too long, a day at the most. "Be sure to bring a bed roll encase we have to camp out." What she said had truth... She really had no reason being out there, but it was for her own good. She needed to learn how to kill and defend herself... Everyone could only truly count on themselves in the end, and she must have the strength to take life before they take hers.

"Once you get what you need, meet me outside the manor. Your horse will be there already." Kavar said and stood to the side to let her scurry ahead of him.

"Well sire. I graciously appreciate your inviting me to your journey. But I believe we don't have enough bedrolls at the moment. If you would allow me to, I could shop for them and other important supplies with some of the other servants at the general store before we embark. Could you grant me leave, and some denars to cover the expenses?"

"We are out?" Kavar said, another thing he would have to buy as a soldier needed to be well rested, He reached to his coin purse and pulled out twenty gold denars, it was more then enough to cover anything she could need, "Here." He said holding the coins out for her, "Get what you need, and buy yourself a dagger."

Agnes had returned after purchasing the needed items from the peasants. She looked a bit pale and had an expression of uneasiness. Nevertheless, she composed herself and found Lord Badrick discussing some matters with some of his other subjects.

"My Lord," She said. "I've done as you said and prepared everything we need for your hunting trip."

"Good." Kavar said before waving off the servant who asked him what color he wanted the drapes. Why did he care about the drapes? He did not even care if there was drapes, "It is time we be off. Did you buy the dagger." He said turning on his heel and heading for the main door, Tira and the others should already have the horses saddled and ready to go.

"Of course my lord." Agnes replied, following closely behind Kavar.

Kavar had told her to get the dagger for a few reasons, no one should be without a weapon. It was better to have one and not need it, then need one and not have it, and two having something to hold on to sometimes helped people when in a dangerous situation. The bear would more then likely devour her, dagger or not, but at least it could potential help with nerves.

It was not a long walk as the manor was truly just a very large house, and he could already make out the faint sounds of the horses fighting agianst their reins ready to go to... wherever they were going to, Tira and the others were, as Kavar suspected, already mounted with their armor and weapons ready, and nearby his own warhorse and Agnes's. He did not waste words in greeting, only nodding to the informal 'hey' from Tira before mounting his own horse, and glance around to be sure everyone was ready. Almost from the shadows a small boy ran forward and handed Kavar is full helm, which he took and slide on only to find two spears also shoved up into his face that the boy held with struggling stretched out arms, but Kavar did not make him wait long before he took those two laying them across his legs.

"Lead on Tira." Kavar said before setting his horse to a trot behind her, they had awhile to go.

Agnes got on her horse with the help of another servant and followed closely beside Badrick. She looked around at Badrick's followers. All armed and prepared for hunting. She had never seen his men in battle but have heard of their prowess. She felt a sense of comfort thinking that bandits would think twice about attacking the party. She looked at Badrick, thinking it might be a good idea to talk about things to make the trip feel less burdensome.

"My lord. If I may ask freely. What is the purpose of this trip? Are we trophy hunting to gift to another lord? Or perhaps you are competing with one to determine who is the greater hunter?"

"I am going to kill the bear because I want to kill the bear." Kavar said simply, "Then I will have a cloak made for myself from its fur." If other counts wanted a bear cloak, they could kill a bear themselves as he was doing. It must be hard for other people to understand, but they did not need to. He was going to kill the bear because he desired to kill something and test his limits, the large bear would be a good target for that, and he was curious as to this pond the bear was supposedly guarding.

"Have you never killed something?" Kavar asked.

"Well, nothing more complicated than perhaps a rat that comes out at night my lord. Oh and I'm sure a fur cloak would look wonderful on you my lord. I can put together a pretty decent cloak myself. You might consider that as an option instead of handing it over to a professional tailor to work on it as their services can be quite expensive. But, of course I'm not implying that you wouldn't be able to afford such services my lord."

"I thought so too." Kavar said to the idea of the cloak looking good on him that, and it would be nice to have for the winter. He did consider it as an option. Her making it for him would save him some denars... "Very well. I will give the fur to you for you to work with." Of course, if she failed in her needle-work there would be repercussions, but he was sure she knew that already, so there was no point in threatening her. He turned his attention ahead of him, and could already see the forest coming into view, it would not be long now until they reached the pond, and if all went well, they could avoid having to camp out. If all went well.

"Oh, you wont be disappointed my lord. You'll be the envy of all the other lords in the land. Speaking of them, how would you say is the political atmosphere at the time? Oh, I hope no one holds hostility against you my lord. Perhaps you might consider forging a friendship and military alliance with some. I'm sure your people will honor you for such a wise decision. Although I would hardly consider myself a competent political advisor, I am merely curious of our present situation. Or have you considered conducting some trade, or perhaps arranging a research agreement with their scholars?"

"We are in the same kingdom." Kavar said, "We already have military alliances with them all, and formally, we are all friends, but I doubt any of them would show up to aid me in a siege." But he expected that already. He did not want their love. Their friendship. He only required their respect, and he would get that over pile of corpses. Research project, that was almost funny, who would he send? The only people who could even read in the village was only about seven, "There is no point in wasting time with them. An inevitable war will be my avenue to strengthen my position in my country. I will not pander to another count."

"I would not argue with you my Lord. And yes, perhaps 't would be better to not get heavily involved with others'. One moment a Lord may provide economic or military assitance. And the next he may very well publicly denounce you and spread false rumors. Although, again I'm hardly someone who can give advice in political matters. I just merely happen to overhear lots of gossip and such from other people. But, if I may ask my Lord. Did you say that war would be 'inevitable'? Surely there must be a way to avoid meaningless violence?"

"When one has power, the only thing they want, is more power." Kavar said as the group passed into the forest, "Humanity is a warlike race. We have always fought and killed, and we will always. It is nice and well to hope for peace, but peace is simply the time between wars." If wars died out, he would have lost his own job a long time ago. As simple as it was, there was a cold truth to the world, at the very core of humanity was a very dark place. A primal side that enjoyed killing. That enjoyed destruction... but it is what also made them human.

Kavar jerked hard on his reins when he heard that distinctive war echo across the forests. It was near, and it had spotted them, he could feel it. Kavar quickly swung himself off the horse, a spear in both hands. "Quiet." Kavar said, almost unnecessarily as the lads were already dismounted and crouched as well. They moved silently, or well as best they could with armor that clanked as they moved, but it did not take long before Kavar could hear the sound of slow running water then the form of a large bear head stuck out from behind some bushes. His men moved to raise their spears, but Kavar waived them off. This was his hunt, and the bear was hidden by the bush, there was no point in throwing the spears at it at the moment. He started to angle himself to the left, hoping to get a better shot at the large creature, and luckily it did not move seeming to be preoccupied with whatever it was it was doing, and as he neared, Kavar had to admit it was a descent sized bear.

The bear was getting into berries on the small bush, and seemed to be ignoring everything else around it, so Kavar lifted dropped his spear in his left hand and stood up before taking a step and throwing the spear. The bear had seen him out of the corner of its eye when he stood and had turned to face him and roar, but by turning it caught the spear deep into its left thigh, and its roar turned into one of pain and anger. Feeling threatened the bear charged, and Kavar bent down to pick up the second spear before pointing the tip at the bear and started to move to the left trying to cut off the bears charge by forcing it to stop and follow his circle movements, but it didn't stop, and when Kavar noticed this, he threw his second spear at it, but it only grazed the bears shoulder tearing a small path, not enough to do any real damage.

Before Kavar could draw his blade the bear was on him, and it sweep its great clawed paw at him and caught him in the ribs, experience had him moving with the blow, but it did not help much as he was thrown a good couple of feet. He had felt his ribs give in and the pain told him something had cracked, not broken... the chainmail had saved him from being sheared nearly in half by those claws. With the space given by the blow, he drew out his sword. He could feel the adrenalin and fear rushing through his veins, this is what life was about. The rush before taking a life, and the sensation afterwards. He started to circle once again, but the bear would have none of it as it charged him again, although it was starting to breath hard as the spear still lodged in its thigh was giving it trouble.

Kavar's world went black for a moment as something smashed into his head, and then he saw light... his helmet had been knocked clean off his head by the bear. He had not ducked hard enough and the bear had caught the top, by luck or judgement, he had not clasped the leather that keep the helmet from being removed which had saved his life, but he felt something warm trickle down his face, and half his vision turned red as blood seeped down into his left eye. The bear stood on its two feet showing its impressive height as it saw its chance to crush him and end the fight, but kavar saw his chance as well, he stood and brought his sword up, up and through the bears jaw slicing and breaking into its brain, Kavar had to almost scramble out of the way as the bear tumbled down, dead before it hit the ground.

Tired and beaten, Kavar sat on a large log, his sword still in the bears head, "Skin it and take what meat we can. It is too large for us to take back." He said through short breaths as his fractured rib made it hard to breath and speak, "Lets go find out what this pond is hiding."

Soon enough, Charles had been revived by one of the healers and he stood next to both Lord Dranton and a third place winner he knew not as Lord Despin gracefully presented their prizes. He took his silver jewel encrusted sword with a bow to his host as was customary and shook hands with Lord Dranton to show he bore him no ill will. Nonetheless, he was disappointed he had not won first place. It reminded him that he had a long way to go yet as a warrior and he vowed quietly that he would.

At the feast, he put on a good front and socialized with many of his father's old acquaintances, grateful for the seat of honor and Lord Despin's right hand. When it came time for his party to depart, he thanked Lord Despin for his honoring of him and promised to be in contact. On the way home, however, they stopped in a town to sell Charles' prize for much-needed denars and when they were alone, Aisha raised an eyebrow at him.

"You have been moody all day, Charles," she told him. He didn't dispute this as he sold it to a merchant for one thousand, four hundred and fifty denars. He simply replied.

"You're right. I just wanted to win. That's all," he confessed.

"You will do better," she stated, "I know you will."

Charles smiled slightly at his friend's words. She did not speak much, but when she did, it was a balm for his worries. As they moved to exit the town, they found a horse breeder admiring Aisha's horse. It was a breed from the Sarranid Sultanate Aisha took in her exile and he offered them a payment of denars and half-price for a herd of horses if they would allow him to stud it out. Charles agreed, already thinking of the land around Ferry's Village. Grass was plentiful and horses were always in demand across Swadia. Aisha, surprisingly, agreed to the idea and they departed for Ferry's Village, Aisha riding behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist.

When peasants and merchants passed by, rumors circulated that a Lord with the emblem of a Lion on a field of Silver had won the heart of a foreign lover and peasants, typical to human nature, would tell the story in pubs and inns and many would add their own details to the story, but Charles and Aisha remained unaware of this at the time.

Baldwin was walking around the mountain where he had ordered his men to meet up with him. After the raid he had sent them to a nearby city in disguises to buy the final things such as tools, wood and food for their new base.
The area he had chosen was a large cave system in the Vaegir mountains which was nearly impossible to find if one didn't know what to look for. He had found it a few years earlier after a botched raids when manhunters had started tracking him throughout the forest surrounding the mountain. By sheer luck he had managed to find the cave system and hid in it until the manhunters departed, believing he had managed to escape them. Baldwin had then spent a few days exploring this new place and realized that it was a perfect place to use as a hideout. He was correct. Several times that cave system had been what saved him from his enemies. Now he had decided to create his base inside the cave. For now he was alone there, but soon his men would return and begin building and hopefully draw more recruits for his armies. Perhaps one day it would become the capital of his own nation.

At long last Ancel had found himself in the city of Suno. The lack of a horse was starting to wear down on him as he never seemed to get where he wanted in the time he wanted. He had missed the tournament, which was the main reason for his appearance in the first place, and to top it off the feast as well. He couldn't help but think he wouldn't have even been invited and he was fine with that a bunch of nobles talking down to him for abandoning his home was the last thing he had in mind in the means of fun.

There were many staring eyes which came as no surprise. Weather they were of pity or confusion he didn't care he wanted neither. It had become something he had come to be used to. At this point most of the country knew about the destruction and abandoning of his home and managed to peace his face to the rumors. It was consider strange that anyone would just give up a place of power.

He stopped past the gate and into the city so he could pull out what looked to be a list his eyes scanning over it rather quickly. As frown appeared over his face and he put the list back into his bag. He was fully aware of the hopelessness of what he was trying to accomplish but he didn't care. Thinking the tavern was his best bet to find information at this point he started off towards it doing his best to ignore the on looking eyes.

Report;


Available Gold; 6,622 Denars.

Income; 672+500(2)(Denars per turn) at 45% TR, and 45% TR on Commercial Income.

Building being built/time remaining; Palisade Walls/3 turns.

Standing Army; "Defenders Of Hossberg," 9 Horsemen, Chainmail, Kiteshields/Sabers(&or Arming Swords). 11 Crossbowmen, Chainmail&Leather, Crossbows/Daggers/Bayonets. 15 Infantry, N/A, Arming Swords/Spears/Round Iron Shields. 14 Recruits, N/A, N/A.

Current Fiefs; Ferry's Village.

Population Under Your Control; 223

Commoner Opinion; News of your victory in the tournament are welcoming, they rejoice in your exploits, though a select few feel if your father had been in it, he would have won. After a few weeks they feel that you've shown yourself a competent enough leader, thus far. Though the coming winter has them fretting as it's believed it will be an impossibly harsh one. They look forward to judging your actions under pressure.

Nobility Opinion; The meeting you as a young man and seeing you fighting in the tournament have warmed them to you, but a great deal of them that weren't there, weren't there for a particular reason. You have a strong ally in Lord Despin.

Events; It's revealed that each set of chainmail would be 80 denars while each set of leather armor would be 45 denars. After searching, a weaponsmith from Suno offers half price for all weapons created and delivered, so long as you only buy from him, and this seems to be the best option currently available. The horse salesman sends letter that the Sarranid Horse provided, is a fertile beast, breeding strong offspring and reveals to you after your dealings that he could sell a flock of 36 colts and young females for 1,980 denars.

Caravans seem to be comforting back to your bridge, and business has picked up while your village also reaps heightened income from the increased amount of caravans passing through. 14 Recruits took up your call to arms, joining you for expected wages.

A mounting tension with the Kingdom of Rhodoks has a great deal of Lords patrolling the border, and you're called upon by King Harlaus to be ready within 3 weeks(1-2 turns) to take a patrol to the border, as he predicts war will soon be upon the Kingdom of Swadia.

The men from Whiterun did not get very far.

The old man in the wagon stood and yelled, “Hey! You won’t take them bandits so easily!”

Ulrich raised Fang and yelled back “then we’ll take ‘em hard!” At that, his fellow Nords went wild, roaring fiercely and banging their axes on their shields.

The old man was unconvinced. “You won’t get to use them axes with arrows lodged in your skulls!”

“Arrows?” Ulrich asked.

“He means archers,” Bryling answered before the old man had a chance. “Vaegir archers.”

“He means Vaegir archers shooting from tree cover,” one of the Companion archers chimed in.

“Shit!” Helvard growled.

“Shit.” Bryling agreed.

“These Vaegir scum will trouble my people no more.” Ulrich planted his feet and crossed his huge arms.

Bryling walked right up to him. He could not match Ulrich strength for strength. No man in Whiterun could. Bryling did have age and experience on his side, however. “Ulrich, listen, our men are brave. They will charge the forest if you give the order. They will die like men, but they will die.”

Ulrich flexed his arms and stared Bryling full in the face causing the tension in the air to immediately thicken. Helvard moved to intervene, but before he took a step Ulrich motioned for him to remain still.

“Bryling,” Ulrich began, “you have always given me wise counsel, but you are a fool if you think I would give that order. I want you to take one of your archers, the three Companion infantrymen, and five of the town guard. I will take the other archer, Helvard, and seven of the guard. We will split our force, enter the forest from the east and west, and flank these sons of whores. As soon as you hear Helvard’s warhorn, unleash hell.”

Bryling grinned fiercely and nodded in satisfaction. He took his men and moved off to the east. Ulrich and his men went west.

The sun was beginning to set as the men from Whiterun entered the forest. A thick canopy plunged the warriors into near total darkness. Torches were out of the question. The going was tough, but not impossible. These were Whiterun pines. This forest was not even half a day’s march from the village proper. Many of the Nord warriors had played hunter and bear in this forest growing up. They were still the hunters. And these were their woods.

Ulrich led his team forward. As they neared the position the old man had pointed to, Ulrich got down on all fours and crawled. His men followed his lead. The day’s chill had become a biter, hard cold. A light snow was beginning to crawl. For men not of Nord blood, this was an evening best spent indoors.

Ulrich paused and listened. He was still for so long that Helvard was about to say something.

Ulrich slowly turned and cupped his hands in Helvard’s ear, whispering, “listen. Do you hear that?”

Helvard listened intently, and heard nothing but a breeze rustling the pine trees overhead. Then, the noise reached him. It sounded like bones knocking together, beating out a quick staccato.

Helvard grinned. He whispered to Ulrich, “the Vaegir sentry is cold. His teeth betray him.”

“He will soon be colder.” Ulrich had to have faith in Bryling. The older veteran would know what to do.

Ulrich had each of his men ready their weapons. Then, Helvard raised his warhorn to his lips.

A deep, throaty bellow ripped the forest’s stillness. The bellow was followed by Ulrich’s enormous war cry.

Ulrich raced toward the chattering teeth. Fang, his huge war axe, actually led the assault.

The bandit archer was leaning against a tree, rubbing his hands. He reacted slowly to the sound of impending death, frozen by more than the weather.

Ulrich took his head in one giant swing of his axe. Fang severed bone and flesh like a hot knife going through butter.

A nearby bandit archer reacted quicker than his companion. He had been watching for the Nords, and was lining up a shot on Ulrich’s back. He never saw Helvard, or his axe. The housecarl had once sworn a blood oath to defend his Jarl with his life. He would not break that oath. Not this day. Helvard’s ax bit deeply into the archer’s elbow, nearly severing the arm. Blood spattered the nearby trees and reddened the snow on the ground. The man groaned and stared at his wound. His left arm dangled by a single sinew. Helvard buried his axe in the nearest tree trunk. He dropped his round shield, and grabbed the archer’s head with both hands. Helvard shoved the archer’s head with all his strength into the axe head. There was a sickening crunch, more red snow, and the archer’s eyes closed. Helvard retrieved his axe and shield, and moved on.

The bandits seemed to be in groups of two, scattered along the tree line, facing the clearing. They were not expecting an assault from the sides, from the forest.

Ulrich looked around and saw the Whiterun guard engaged with bandits in the forest. Sightlines were too broken for most archers to take up their bows. Daggers did not fare well against axes, especially Nord axes. Ulrich heard sounds of battle from the other end of the forest. This made the Jarl smile. Bryling did not disappoint. He would have to buy the man a keg of Honeybrew for this…

His reverie was cut short by a thrown dagger that missed his face by a hair and lodged into the pine tree near his head. Ulrich turned to find the man who was now short one dagger.

A much smaller, much thinner man stood off at a distance. Was this the bandit the old man spoke of? Ulrich laughed, strapped Fang to his back, and ran after the man.

Ulrich was not fast over long distances. But, he moved like an angry mother bear protecting her cub over short stretches. The smaller man severely misjudged Ulrich’s ability to close, and he almost paid for it with his life.

Ulrich charged the small bandit. He reached out to grab for him. Focused on the bandit, Ulrich missed the exposed tree root. He went down like a ton of rocks.

When he pulled himself to his feet, the smaller bandit was gone. And the battle was over. Fifteen bandits lay dead or dying. Five were being tied together. Three of the town guards were dead. Two were wounded.

“Ulrich!” Helvard yelled.

Ulrich ran to his friend to find both of the Companion archers kneeling on the ground, struggling to support Bryling’s head.

Bryling was dying. Ulrich had seen enough dying men and animals to know the smell of death.

The old Companion had a dagger stuck to the hilt in his abdomen. An arrow was stuck in his chest. Bryling was coughing up blood.

“Did…did we get the buggers?” Bryling coughed, and more blood came up.

Ulrich knelt beside his thane. “Some managed to escape, but they won’t be troubling Whiterun for a long time.”

“You…(cough)…should have seen (cough, cough) the first bastard I caught (cough, cough, cough). He was taking a shit!” Bryling laughed, and there was a lot more blood. Then, the coughing abruptly stopped.

“Bryling!” Ulrich yelled. “You do not have your Jarl’s permission to die!”

He was gone. Ulrich balled his fists. He could not let his men see how much Bryling meant to him. This only deepened his anger. If I ever get my hands on that little man…

“Men,” Ulrich shouted, “we will take our prisoners and our wounded back to Whiterun. We take our dead home to their families. We return on the morrow to bury what’s left after the wolves take their due.”

With that, the men of Whiterun returned home.

Report;



Available Gold; 682 Denars.

Income; 716(Denars Per Turn) at 75% TR, 50% TR on Commercial Income.

Building being built/time remaining; N/A

Standing Army; "Badrick's Lads," 20 men, Chainmail, Swords/Kiteshields/Spears. 48 Recruits, N/A, (Weapons in the process of being equipped.)

Current Fiefs; Roriksstead.

Population Under Your Control; 231

Commoner Opinion; You killed the legend, the bear that ward them off from their once sacred spring of old legend and kill the bear known to kill hunters and rumoured to have massacred whole families at one point. They're becoming quite proud, despite your cruelty and high taxes, to be citizens of Roriksstead. It's the first time they seem to have a stable Lord that won't go to war and simply die, and this period of expansion is cheering their forsaken hearts.

Nobility Opinion; They feel the hunting down and killing of the Great Bear of Veluca and making of a cloak is pretentious and uncalled for. The more good-at-heart Counts are beginning to find you "eccentric" and see a side of you that's seemingly, "genuine." King Graveth got a great laugh at the tale of your exploits, finding you to be a fun, "character."

Event; You killed the Great Bear of Veluca, now of a tale of your own, the cloak was made beautiful, the shining coat, with thick skin like soft metals, beyond mere leather. The coat of a gentle blackish gray color. At the spring you find mystic seeming waters, set in the back of a shaded forest amongst Velucan hills. You find it's fairly close to your fief and thus must have been the source of the power of the tale. Several old abandoned cottages surround it and in the darkest one you find a set of bear cubs, and several documents, including sword fighting techniques and one history scroll to which the value equals that of nine-hundred denars. The rest fairly insignificant unless to your villagers who may rejoice in the recovering of them. They're all dusty and faded, forgotten, but the old techniques seem remarkable in comparison to modern techniques.

A man is pulled from your village, a seemingly little old man, with a pure heart and warming smile, he's joyous at the opportunity to share his love of wine with his Count. He reveals that a simple Vineyard should have a start up cost of 2,000 denars. At the tossing of 500 denars, Anders has the order done as quickly as possible, the order brought unto the village and to be equipped to your new recruits.

You're sent a letter by King Graveth warning of a mounting tension between your Kingdom and the Kingdom of Swadia, it's just a warning, but the small talk included seems nervous and yet determined, foreboding an offensive soon to be.

Your financial advisers find that you're heading toward debt if you aren't careful.

"Each set of leather armor will cost 45 denars. A set of chainmail will cost 80. A letter from a prominent weaponsmith in Suno has also arrived. He has agreed to make and sell weapons to you for half price for as long as you buy only from him. It is a good policy for the moment," Rukil advised Charles as he, Aisha, himself, and Father Clovis sat in the Hall, the latter looking vaguely uncomfortable in such rich surroundings.

"Very good. How goes the recruitment for the militia?" he asked, causing Rukil to stroke his beard thoughtfully.

"Fourteen good men have answered the call and are in need of armor and weapons, but a letter from King Harlaus suggests that tensions are mounting with the Kingdom of Rhodoks. He expects you to mount a patrol along the border within 3 weeks," his adviser stated.

"War is inevitable. The feud between your people and the Rhodoks is within your blood. You will need to be prepared for war," Aisha told him, certainty in her lovely brown eyes.

Charles nodded in understanding, "Buy a surplus of weapons and armor: leather and chainmail alike along with spears, crossbows, swords, and the like. Also increase the pay of the militia and my soldiers by a quarter. Send word to Lord Despin that I will hire any fighting men and women he directs to me. Also, arm the militia with the weapon that most suits them."

"This will cost a good amount of denars," Rukil noted.

"More denars may be made. Have you heard from the horsebreeder?"

"Yes. He offers a herd of 36 colts and young females for 1,980 denars after your dealings."

"Accept the deal and build stables and purchase the supply needed to care for the horses. Hire also a breeder to look after the herd and breed them well when they're of age. The same one if possible, but another is acceptable as long as he or she is competent," Charles ordered.

"The villagers worry for the winter," Father Clovis put in. Charles frowned for a moment.

"Start storing up food and firewood for the winter then, but do not delay the building of the Palisade," Charles ordered.

"And the patrol?" Aisha asked.

"Ready the men. We leave tomorrow at dawn."

Damien had been preparing for winter by importing more grain and cutting down more trees for firewood. The winters there were harsh, as such the population always had to prepare for it. The mines were holding up well as the work load came back since more came to the town. With a full workforce he spread the word around the village that the Wolves needed more soldiers in it's ranks. This was true as they had more equippment than they could use. Damien wanted more people to come to Raven's Post to eventually create a town but in order for that to happen he needed to have a strong military. That military force would teach the populations in the realm that Raven's post was a safe haven from violence. The winter would provide a wall itself from bandit and nord attacks as it always did for it was the country's largest defence since it's foundation.

Later in the day he had a meeting with the village elder. The elder represented the people so as such he respected the man greatly. The elder warned of a possible assassination atempt, something that Damien always faced since his family owned the mine. "The people wish for this town to become the center of attention in the realm. They want all to see the prosparity that the village has to offer and the righteousness that is your rule. They want more trade, expansion, growth, and resources. Whenever the villagers trade with those of other villages they speak highly of your rule and how you wish to place the people in hight stature. The will is to become great and powerful. To make the village a seat of power. They believe that only you can do such a thing." The elder finished. "Rest assured that will happen, this I promise. As for the plot of my assassination I tell you this. If you find anybody who is slandering me or plotting against me then report this and they will dealt with swiftly." At that the meeting ended.

Damien ordered Renald to recruit even more soldiers into the ranks and train harder. More equippment was to be created according to the influx of recruits and more money would be spent to train the soldiers. He wanted the soldiers here to become the most disiplined force in the land. As for the economy he sent out scouts to find ore in the mountain land that he owned and also to find out if their were animals that held expensive furs that could be hunted. Since the land was not furtile the source of income would ultimately go down to ore and furs. The more resources he could find the more money he would gain, the more money he had meant more soldiers, with more soldiers and work came a larger population. That would be how he would gain his power. Perhaps the king would even eventually consider him a possibility to becoming baron or even a duke. The possibilities were endless.

Charles Hossberg

Available Gold; 1764 Denars.

Income; 672+500(1)(Denars per turn) at 45% TR, and 45% TR on Commercial Income.

Building being built/time remaining; Palisade Walls/2 turns.

Standing Army; "Defenders Of Hossberg," 9 Horsemen, Chainmail, Kiteshields/Sabers(&or Arming Swords). 11 Crossbowmen, Chainmail&Leather, Crossbows/Daggers/Bayonets. 15 Infantry, 15 sets of chainmail being delivered, Arming Swords/Spears/Round Iron Shields. 20 Recruits, 20 sets of leather armor being delivered, weapons being delivered.

Current Fiefs; Ferry's Village.

Population Under Your Control; 229

Commoner Opinion; News of your decision to store up firewood, grain, and other foodstuffs for the winter has been met with approval and reassured most of the people worrying about the winter. They also meet your decision to patrol the border with a mixture of approval and curiousity. Some dread the thought of conflict while others are excited.

Nobility Opinion; A great deal of the nobility approve of your decision to mount a patrol straightaway, feeling that this act proves that you take the king's orders and your duties seriously while others believe that you are reckless, looking for a battle and may provoke a war with the Rhodoks.

Events: While patrolling the border, you find little of interest. You find a few highwaymen preying on caravans and travellers along the main road and you quickly dispatch them, taking few casualties. When your patrol comes to an end, you find a mine close to your lands and just within the border of the Kingdom of Swadia. You discover it is an iron mine operated by bandits and raiders using captured travellers for slave labor. They offer you half the iron and profits in exchange for protection and looking the other way. Some of your men balk at the idea of making a deal with criminals while others see the value of the mine and suggest taking the deal while the others suggest taking control of the mine and freeing the slaves.

Meanwhile, six recruits were sent your way to the village and Rukil has ordered 15 sets of chainmail for 1200 denars for the infantry and 20 sets of leather armor for 900 denars the recruits as well as ordering weapons for them, amassing a surplus of extra ones for a total of 1000 denars. The horsebreeder agrees to move to Ferry's Village to take the position when the herd of horses you have brought from him for 1930 denars are well enough to travel. Rukil advises you refrain from spending more lest you go into debt.

Reports;

Attila Noyan

Life was going fine in the fief of Huns Height; it was a relatively normal sized fief. It was close to the border of three other countries. The lord was in his palace listening to his two advisors, the older one said that they should ride into the other lands and raid for treasure, the other said they should send messengers in all directions. The lord finally decided that the best course right now would be to trade instead of invade, so he sent some ten of his men to the lords to offer war horses, spice, messenger falcons, and other things in the market.

Available Gold: 2,000 Denars.

Income: 673 (Denars Per Turn) at 50% TR, 50% TR on Commercial Income.

Building being built/time remaining; N/A

Standing Army: "swift falcons," 50 men, Bows/Lassos/Chainmail/Spears.

Current Fiefs: Huns Height.

Population Under Your Control: 200 villagers.

Commoner Opinion: They are neutral about their new lord because he paid most of the craftsmen to be there. The few that followed him from the fief his father had, are still judging him.

Nobility Opinion: the nobles think he is stupid for not taking his father’s fief. A few are waiting to see how it goes to see if he is full of himself or if he actually can pull it off.

Events: sending of messengers to nearby lords in other countries

After weeks of riding back and forth along the border, Charles still hadn't found anything. Well, to be fair, he and his soldiers had found a few groups of bandits preying on travelers and had swiftly dispatched them. However, he had yet to meet any Rhodoks soldier or marauder crossing the border. On one hand, he was glad that the Rhodoks were keeping the peace, but on the other hand, he was worried about the Rhodoks planning something. He was not afraid of battle, of course, but he was wary of being caught by surprise. His father had once told him that the army that surprised the other most often won.

It was with this in mind that Charles had decided to take a lesser known path that led through a series of ravines. This, of course, led him into another pack of bandits that were put down with a combination of good infantry in formation, crossbowmen, and horsemen flanking them from behind. As they rode further, Charles held up a hand when a sight greeted him. It was a mine leading into a cliff populated by chained men and women working it as armed men stood watch over them. Charles frowned, gripping his sword as lookouts sounded the alarm and the biggest of them, and thus in command it seemed, approached to greet him.

"Stop here, milord. I have as proposition for ye," the bandit announced, holding out his hands in a gesture of peace.

"And just what could you possibly have to propose to us," Aisha told him coldy, glaring at him and gripping her swords. Charles knew she wanted nothing more than to cut him down. He himself wanted to do the honors, but he held his blade.

"Speak quickly," he stated coldly.

"Iron. Lots of it. This mine is sitting on a whole vein of it. Give us sanction to operate it and handle its "workers" and you will get 50 percent of the ore and the profits. You could find a use for that, couldn't you?" the bandit asked.

"He could be on to something," one of his horesmen stated, "Iron can be used for weapons and sold for profit."

"I don't like this," Aisha stated, "You aren't seriously considering this, are you? This mine runs on slave labor and the iron these slavers keep is probably used to make their own weapons. To harass other innocent people. Your people."

"Aisha is right. I will not condone slavery. To arms!!!" Charles ordered.

"You will regret-" the bandit leader began, but Charles had already beheaded him. As the bandits charged and fired their arrows, Charles' infantry locked their shields and thrust their spears forward as the crossbowmen returned fire at the bandit bowmen and bandits that gave any inclination to making formations of their own. Meanwhile, the horsemen split into two groups standing on either side of the infantry, guarding their flanks riding out to flank the bandits.

The bandits were slaughtered within minutes as the well disciplined troops quickly and with deadly poise executed a list of orders from their Lord, Charles Hossberg. Slaves scattered and searched desperately for cover. Soon, however two of them had rounded up a young woman and a young boy holding them hostage before the Lord himself.

It would be moments but on silent orders through a quietly brewing standoff one after the other went down, a bolt in the larger man's eye. While the other took one to the shoulder, the hostages would scream pulling themselves away before the young Lord would skillfully dismount. The small man had lived, crawling away, what was left of his men had routed and he was left alone, surrounded on all sides by eerily stationary men. There breaths labored and frosted, the cold air telling of a soon winter, creeping upon them all. Some wore smirks, while others only remained solemn. Their weapons at the ready, their stances maintained.

"No please!" Don't-" He would shriek before a sword erupted from the back of his chest and stuck in the ground, holding the man's now dead body propped up, impaled. Lord Charles Hossberg would pull his hand from the hilt in a manner of nonchalance, not acknowledging the body or the actions he had just taken.

The battle was over in mere moments, and the prisoners released and encouraged to move to Ferry's Village. 18 bandits were killed while 4 routed. 3 Defenders of Hossberg were killed in the skirmish.

The battle was short and bloody, but Charles was grateful that he lost few men. The men who died were two infantrymen and one crossbowman and, to their credit, they faced their deaths bravely from what he could tell. When the battle was over, he ordered his men to search the area for prisoners and anything of value to take back to Ferry's village. When that was accomplished, he ordered his troops to clear the area and camouflage the mine as best they could. He didn't want anymore bandits or worse, Rhodoks, taking possession of it. By the end of the day, he and his men reached Ferry's Village and Charles personally delivered denars that were owed to the families of those who had fallen for their lives.

Within the manor house, Charles took stock of the situation with Rukil, "I want the mine operational as soon as possible. The iron there should attract weaponsmiths and blacksmiths to the village when the iron hits the market. How many denars and men would it take to defend the mine from bandits and raids from Rhodoks? Can a fortification be built around it?"

"I will take many denars to build an outpost to defend the mine," Rukil warned. Charles frowned, but quickly dictated a letter to a servant.

Lord Despin,

As you know, the fief of Ferry's Village borders the Kingdom of Rhodoks and I have patrolled it vigilantly. Recently, I have found an iron mine in good condition with plentiful iron. I believe that I can get the mine operational very quickly, but the mine is close to the border and may be in danger of raids once word spreads of it. I formally request a loan of denars needed to build an outpost to defend it. In exchange, I am willing to offer you a 20% discount on all iron and weapons produced from its ore until the debt is settled through your savings or I repay the loan with my own denars.

Respectfully,

Lord Charles Hossberg

He also wrote a letter to weaponsmith that had been making his men's armor and weapons about the discovery in order to entice him to move his shop to the village. With luck, the prospect of cutting off the merchants as middlemen for his supply of iron would be enough to convince him to leave for Ferry's Village.