FACTION UNITS
LORE
The Eastern Empire is the oldest part. The Sea of Grass is where the first Emperor was born, and the East fell to him swiftly. The loyalty of these people is unbreakable. Through the EMpire, they have prospered, been allowed to develop their own cultures in safety and freedom, to not worry about neighbours storming their homes - war is upon them, of course, but there is comfort in knowing who your enemy will be.
Myr Addati | The people of Myr Addat, the Adati, are a very insular people. They are not numerous, they live in a meritocratic society and only the chieftain is 'blood-born', or given his position through right of ancestry. He has always had the right to abdicate and name successors from outside his family however, and some have.
Their people live a dualistic life. Deep within the deserts of their land, there is a secret dwelling place, a secret city of the Myr Addat - the Hive City, many have called it. It's true name is Kedrawn, and it is a massively complex city, walled and fortified, surrounding a massive sandstone peak that splits the city clean in half, with many hundreds of tunnels running through it. Tunnels run everywhere, hence the name of the Hive City. It is vast, ancient and most certainly not built by mere men.
To find the entryway is a task in itself, as it is both naturally and artificially concealed. Some have mentioned a waterfall of sand being the veil that hides it, and others mention bizarre carvings in a tunnel dug by no natural hands. Whatever the reality, the slavers of Ashapur have never found it, but this has always been assisted by the fact that the Myr Addat do not hide behind walls...every step into their lands is heavily contested and they are true masters of hit and run fighting.
They breed the Dune-Hoppers - a strange creature indeed, with a rabbit-like head and ears but a body built to move across sand at great speed. This again has served them well - where other nations use camels, they move at blistering speeds and the Dune-Hoppers are adept at finding natural water, using their feeding tubes to taste the residue of water some distance below the shifting sands.
The Adati people are an enigma. They alone possess the metal Malech in their blood. Some believe this to be an experiment of the Selediri and Lindiri from thousands of years past, but contact with these cultures has long since been lost. They have surgically managed this metal, and by pulling on a system of tubes and needles, they can leak it in a flood, the metal coating the body in seconds in a metal that can withstand massive punishment, yet remains flexible enough to move with great celerity.
The past histories are recorded in the Hive City, and much of this deals with the constant war with Ashapur. In the entire world there has never been a more bitter struggle. The dead are said to be numberless, and many feel that this war is the sole reason that the Empire survives in the East. The Ahsapuri military is large, diverse and very highly trained. Most scholars postulate that the Ashapuri could have easily conquered the east in the years since Valerian's death; 1532 years in which to destroy an Empire at times in complete disarray. |
Religion Within the Eastern Ward | There are many cults they follow. Will list the main ones. many regions have their own 'gods' or 'demigods', but they are now regarded to be different facets of the same god in many cases.
TSIBI - 'The Soulnet', the 'Lady of Veils'. Tsibi is a Death Cult. They are not evil in ANY way. To be more accurate, they are a great comfort to many, and have power that has been lent to the Empire many times, when desperately needed. Her Temple Guard are very fine fighters. She abhors assassins.
BLADE - 'The Trueblade', 'Seversword' a warrior demigod. He is worshipped mainly by warriors of course, but his favour is sought by many who do not fight, as they ask for their loved ones to be returned from war. He and Tsibi are inextricably linked.
MOONBITER - 'The Painted man'. He is worshipped by many of the Western Empire. He is said to see through all veils and illusions, to be a god of vengeance, a judge of right and wrong. The Moonbiter is a mighty power, and has been known to actually manifest in times of need.
'THE BLUE LADY' - 'Elune', 'Lady of Temperance'. She is the goddess associated with the Moon. Her tears are said to flow from the rain on a full moon, and she is healer, charitable, gentle, full of mercy and overborne with a well of sadness.
CELIBH - 'The Lord of all Seasons', the 'Hunter in the Woods'. Celibh (se-leeb) is the main god of the Lindiri. When Ceryn Halfdark brought the Lindiri to fight for the lords of Caria, they adopted the cult, as they saw how the power of this god regenerated befouled fields, raised crops before their eyes, and saw shattered orchard produce fruit. Some despise this cult, as they see the Lindiri in a negative light.
THE CHURCH OF THE ONE (the Only) - This is an arrogant cult. They believe that there is only one god; theirs. Others must be tolerated, but are foolish to worship. They have been corrupt in the past, but have also been very much a stabilising force under the right leaders. They are a double edged sword indeed. They are the only cult to have a standing army and Church Levies |
Several Provinces exist within the Eastern Empire: Telmior Province | Telmior was ever pre-eminent amongst the First Kingdoms. They had a tightly ordered society, they were forward thinking, inventive and rich. They had the most fertile lands, were first to build walls, first to train a standing army, and they had one over-riding principle that this majestic society was built upon; slavery. For hundreds of years it had remained thus, and, in a few short weeks, they were to lose it all - for Ulaya, become Valerian, was to tear their world apart in a spume of blood and terror. The Empire of Telmior was going to fall.
Telmior was a land of open plains and rolling hills. To the north was Ancillia - the broken realm, a mix of mountain, rough steppe and savaged by a volcano and sheets of black ice that rolled down through the Winter. The East lay Dalthrasia, slightly south of that land was the Sea of Grass, where the most prized slaves were found, and further south were others, too far to matter.
Telmior revolved around the Brazen Queen, a woman always masked, the Empress of their world, lady of bronze, the whisperer of delights, she was said by most to be a true beauty, a wonder, by some a hideous crone who hid behind her mask. One thing was true - she never seemed to age or die, and that was reason enough for some to actually worship her.
When the first walls were built, the Brazen Queen and her Noble Sons were tired of fighting the barbarians of the Sea of Grass. They were beset by foes on every side, and all lacked order. The walls swiftly grew, and her people were safe more often than before. Her vigil was constant. She built up trade with some of the settlements at the edge of her demesne, and sent diplomats out to sow accord. Her nation was rising, and she knew that they stood above all others. Whether the Elves had ever been here was unclear, but precious little of her rule bore any shaping by elves.
Her rule expanded murderously. She sent her armies to conquer Ancillia, for fighting men could be trained from their stock, their harsh lives perfect for creating warriors. The few settlements in the south of the land fell in days. The northern half was harder to bring to heel, so she began a brutal campaign, burning the few fertile areas, salting the ground, brining them to starvation before accepting their surrender. These north men amongst the Ancillians were the best fodder for her new slave armies. In her cold chest her brazen heart sang.
The Ancillians were made to construct their own walls, to maintain a garrison of Telmiorne soldiers, to provide a levy of slaves each year, to have to beg for scraps from her table, and their harsh lives got harder.
She sent her forces two ways in the next hundred years; she raided the Sea of Grass constantly, for their quality as slaves was renowned, and she had found Ashapur, whose burgeoning slave culture caught her eye - she had an outlet for slaves, and Telmiorans were moving beyond their borders for trade, war and every other venture known to man. Daqlthrasia briefly fell to them, but they simply were asked to make a military tithe and a slave tithe each year; not as base as her 'accord' with Ancillia.
Her men’s' forays were led deep into Duinir now, and she fought with the men of Saladir, although they made no good slave stock, preferring to die than submit - much like the Barbarians of the Grass Sea, save that she had discovered how to break these men, whereas those of Saladir, noble and high-moraled could not be brought to heel.
The 'Empire' of Telmior grew, but more and more, the conquered nations became a vat of slaves to Telmior, even as the spread of this illness of conscience was festering within the very nations she ruled, as they came to depend on slaves from other nations within their own slave nation. The poison of moral decay spread, and she grew with it. She formed a new army, the Immortal Souls, slaves all, utterly hers to command and with them Telmior grew mightier still.
We come to the birth of Ulaya. Here, the Brazen Queen had converted all of her clients and vassals to what she had wanted - a fat vat of money, slaves and goods that self governed and almost existed outside her demesne, yet were so inextricably tied to Telmior. The Queen had finally achieved perfection, and now the sole target or her desire lay in the Sea of Grass. Records differ hugely, but she began to send slaver armies into the Sea now, upwards of four thousand men at a time sometimes, and the slaves became regular, but not plentiful. They would never unite - they had done on occasion, and this had held her from conquest, but they were dissolute now, stuck into several bandings of tribe, clan, caste, and even differences in their general demeanour. SO fragmented were they that she at last became intent on conquest, but the chance never came to true fruition, for now the child, Ulaya, was a man, and the doom of Telmior was written in the stars.
Ulaya was to become Valerian, and this name was taken from the books of Lore SHE kept, gathered from her lands, the names of nobles and high born men, which he stole from her.
We come to the scene at the Calrion City, the city nearest the Sea of Grass. Here, at dawn, the guards pulled their governor, Demetir, from his bed. A large column of his slaving forces was to be seen approaching the city, with a massive crop of slaves from the clans. There seemed to be few guards, but many slaves. This was truly exciting, but, when they approached the gates, it was found that the slaves were his men.... nine men bound to one, all blinded save the tenth, who was leading them home.
Such was the horror in his heart that he bore no consideration to what was happening elsewhere. As the blinded men began to clog the entry to the city, as the gates yawned ever-wider open, the forces of Ulaya attacked. Thousands of Spurhawk Cavalry dropped from the skies above, each carrying rocks that they dropped upon the city's defenders. From the tall grasses came two thousand Atlaians, 'Bloodhunters', who overran the gates in mere seconds, even as Demetri realised what his foe had done. Horsemen poured from the plains, more infantry. Thousands of barbarians from the Sea of Grass poured in to sack the second biggest city in the Telmioran Empire.
The war moved swiftly. Two towns fell to Ulaya, both burned, but the worst thing, the travesty, was that he killed good free folk, and FREED the slaves. Ancillia had declared themselves independent very quickly after the first blows of the war fell. Others may have well assaulted her on every side as they fell silent, watchful, eager even. Some settlements sent soldiers, others freed their slaves, and others simply barred the gates to the walls that Telmior had had them build.
Within a month it became apparent that the Brazen Queens must meet Ulaya, now daring to call himself Valerian, in the field. She gathered the Immortal Souls, gathered her lesser slave legions, her allies that had sent forces, the mercenaries she maintained and the Noble Sons led the regular army behind their gilded chariots. She fielded 40,000 men, the largest force to have graced the East, and awaited the Men of Ashapur, who had promised half that number in addition; their full host to protect their interests.
Valerian, hearing of their warcamp, accepted the surrender of the latest small town and marched immediately towards her forces. Never one to miss opportunity, he gathered all to him and arrayed his host opposite hers. He had less than twenty thousand, many of whom were very young clansmen or even were forces of the Telmioran slave army. To maximise his surprise, he had not had time to gather his best and his garrison troops, but his Air Cavalry were all present. Messages had been sent, but he dared not hope any would be in time. Valerian knew his foe and he also knew how effective his strategies were when in combination, and this battle held the greatest risk he would ever take, yet had the greatest plan behind it. He gave himself a one in ten chance of winning.... less of surviving. Yet this was not yet a dream of Empire, but one of revenge.
With Dawn's rise, the battle horns sounded. Valerian's forces were arrayed in supportive ranks, having piled dirt up during the night for their archers to gain height, and their spearmen took the front ranks, protecting the better but less armoured soldiers of the clans.
In her centre, the Brazen Queen of Telmior had the Noble Sons, flanked by thousand upon thousand of the other forces. As the chariots swirled around her, she signalled the Immortal Souls, and they split to take the far point of each flank, enveloping the forces of Valerian, each of those forces set in an enormous wedge. From almost any viewpoint, the battle seemed won, but it wasn't.
As you may already consider, Valerian had been working on the slaves that formed the greater part of her host, but it was not a simple end to this battle. The first ranks clashed, and men and horses died. For an hour they fought, before the first slave and allied forces pulled back, retreating at speed. The loss of these men left gaping holes in her lines, and she ordered the Immortal Souls forwards, into battle - the others she would deal with at leisure.
The armies clash again, and Valerian's lines seemed to buckle against the Immortal Souls. He ordered the Air Cavalry in, to strike the rear of the foe's legions, and the battle swirled back and forth. AT about the eight hour, the Brazen Queen lost her right centre, as her forces from the more eastern allies dissipated. She ordered her reserves of Immortal Souls in, to slaughter them, and the battle became chaotic. This was what he had prepared for. Valerian's gambit had paid off.
He could never turn the Immortal Souls. None could. They were broken men, her slaves forever, her lovers, her children. So he turned to her people themselves. As the Souls renewed their assault, the Noble Sons drove harder into their flanks, whilst other household units began to cut down those next to them, the ones who hadn't turned.
Valerian mounted his Spurhawk. Taking a thousand of his men, he drove straight at the Queen's massive chariot, and few stood in his way. The Immortal Souls that barred his path were slaughtered where they stood, much as they were elsewhere in the utter confusion that reigned. Valerian cut down her commander, his men scattered her Brazen Guard, and finally the man that was Ulaya stood before her. She stood tall, and her Kinsai blade swept a path towards his head. He sidestepped the blow and grabbed her mask, twisted and pulled her to her knees. They struggled for a few more seconds, then he cut the bindings that held the mask on, and her face was revealed in the sunlight. The Brazen Queen was a strikingly beautiful girl; she was not human, but bore golden skin like that of the Selediri Elves, yet her features were mean; she looked as foul as the Selediri were fair, and she would never tell her tale to a soul, for, as he held the mask in numbed hands, she pulled her throat into the blade that Valerian had cut her mask straps with. In a dire sort of majesty, she toppled sideways to the bloodied grass, lifeless.
Telmior was done. Valerian was to spend mere weeks in negotiations, freeing all slaves, but executing those who turned on their previous masters. He stood as a King, and his judgement was seen to be divine indeed, for he began to mend the society that was broken - a task that would take a hundred years to truly fulfil, but at least had it's beginnings here. |
Ancillia | Ancillia is a strange province. The south is not considered to be overly fertile, but sustains a decent populace, where plains slowly become steppe and then end in a broken mountain range. Legends speak of this range moving, of it coming to life before the terrified eyes of travellers, only to settle again in a different position. Some with the knowledge pos that it could one of the most ancient of Avatars; one so old that it has grown to be the 'small god' of an entire mountain range rather than a stream, pool, or oasis. If true, then it is mighty indeed.
To the north of the mountains, the land becomes disastrous. A leaking volcano dribbles fire and poisons into a series of valleys, pooling around a large plateau that seems to cling to life, if barely. The plateau extends to the sea, and here Ancillia is visited by other horrors. From the coast one can see the many small isles that act as home to many Avatars, wild and abandoned, filled with sharp reefs and often clogged with strange predators that prevent the simple of fishing from brining succour to the land. In winter, the black ice comes from the north...it grows tall and shears from the polar caps, then gathers water to it as it journeys south, meeting the coast of Ancillia, driving up the beaches, to plough into deep grooves in the Plateau. Where the Black Ice meets the volcanic mass, strange things happen, and men have gone mad when exposed to the gases emitted. Many talk about the Black Ice as if it was haunted, or alive with malice, but that seems ridiculous to anyone sane.
Ancillia was enthralled to the Brazen Queen of Telmior from its earliest days. Certainly in the south, her hold was strong, but in the north, her legions simply build one garrison town and sat there in fear. The culture of Ancillia was built of toughness, or survival, both even. The oldest tradition is Ancillia is that of the fighting pit. In the north, when communities or clans argued there was no war. They could not afford to lose their men in battle. Instead, they fought between champions and the winner was considered to justify his cause. These men slowly became more professional and were called 'Pit Dogs' by the Telmiori.
In the south, she conquered the land fully, and it was under her sway, growing and becoming more decrepit and stagnant morally under her heavy hand. The battles for 'justice' ceased, and simply became games to wager on, blood to enjoy the shedding of and the crowds would escape their servitude and roar like lions at the death of their own people, especially when a Northman was brought south in chains, or a warrior from the Sea of Grass was torn apart by wild beasts.
When Valerian crushed the Brazen Queen, the Ancillians revolted. It was no massive military action, but very sedate. They simply stopped paying attention to the Brazen Queen and her officers and officials were slain in the pits, dragged there by the hungry-eyed crowds. It was after the fall of Telmior that their problems really began. Several leaders came forwards, and a council of sorts was formed. In the time that it took from the fall of Telmior, through the capture of Acaserena, they had begun to look outwards, the ambitions of fools gone mad with power.
In the north, the Telmior garrison was overrun and slaughtered, but little else changed at first. Then a leader came forward who changed much in the north. He was an old 'pit-dog', named the 'Mournweaver', on account of the amount of people he had slain. He had lost only once, but left enough blood and body-parts behind in that fight to be spared death by the victor, who had then fallen from a cliff when rescuing a stranded herd-beast.
Mournweaver marched south, determined to have a voice in the future of Ancillia. AT this time, the Council saw fit to raise monies by hiring their pit-dogs out to neighbouring nations as bodyguards and, then to the Crown Prince of Dalthrasia in his attempt to replace his Queen as the ruler of that Queendom.
When Valerian foiled this attempt, he lost good men, and his ire turned north, to Ancillia. The province was poor, but he was fascinated by the legends of the northern side, and his fury would be sent against the South.
The Mournweaver gathered his men and marched to the westernmost town of Laseya, whereupon he was barred access at first. This wild-looking man and his warriors were recognisably Ancillian, but their councillor was in the new capital, Lysillia and the ability to make choice upon need had been bred out of them by the Brazen Queen. When he demanded access and succour, they shot arrows at him and his men, wounding several, and he fell back in a black mood. Two days later, he and his men assaulted the walls and killed every man in the town that bore arms against them.
Word reached the capital quickly, and a force was dispatched to deal with him. This army outnumbered his by five to one, the best and the worst the fledgling state could offer. They marched swiftly on the town and invested it, swiftly building engines of war with which to shatter gates and walls. Their commander, Ederis did not like the option of facing North men on the walls. He knew what they lived through and their toughness and savagery.
Valerian fell on the fortified town of Kirine and swiftly took the walls, then was dumbfounded by the stone keep within the wooden shell. The keep had a wooden roof under which archers could shelter, and Valerian could not bring his Air Cavalry to bear, so he began to ready an assault on the walls, costly though it may be. The citizens of Kirine faced no brutality at Valerian's hands, but their leaders were hung in the market square, their crime of regicide read at length to the populace, who had known nothing of this.
Almost simultaneously, the forces of Valerian attacked the keep and the Ancillian attacked the breaches they had created, but the forces of Mournweaver beat them back in 5 day-long assaults. The Keep of Kirine fell swiftly once the Atlaians and the Royal Guards of Dalthrasia stormed the walls, vengeance and indignation in their hearts, where the defenders has little of anything in theirs.
Valerian immediately set off east, and word reached him of the attack on Mournweaver. He paused momentarily, and led half of his force to the east. He fell in wrath on Mournweaver's enemies, and a brief battle was fought - in truth a slaughter. Barely two hundreds of Mournweaver's mean remained, but he met Valerian as an equal and was high in his esteem. Together, they turned west, to the capital, and they arrived precisely as the host from the host did.
Swiftly, the capital, Lysillia, was invested. Every man defended the walls, and some of the best soldiers of Telmior had fled there after the Queen's death; this fight would not be an easy one. For three days, Valerian pounded the city, the deep coughing of war engines sending fire and death into the city, but he could breach the walls, and the inevitable assault began, with both towers and ladders brought up against the defences.
Six assaults were made, and the war engines kept their fire upon the city between each assault, depriving the defenders of sleep, whilst his men rotated their numbers for each attack. On the seventh attack, Valerian himself led the most part, with Woundweaver at his side. The Pit Dogs were unstoppable, and the Atlaians that guarded their Emperor were equally driven, but of less skill in the brutal art of massacre.
Punching a hole in the defenders' lines, he secured the gates and his army poured through into the city. They fought running battles, and the city fell, piece by piece. All that surrendered were spared, and their wounded were tended to. The last stand was made in the market square, and their end was merciless and brutal. Woundweaver led this assault, and he cut down dozens of men by himself. At the end of the defence, nigh on all defenders were slain, and the nation of Ancillia capitulated. Ready for a second despotic ruler, they awaited their punishment and indenture into slavery, but they were mistaken.
Valerian gave them two years without taxes, money and men to rebuild all damage and installed Woundweaver as their confused new governor. The fortunes of the province rose greatly, and the Imperial Guard Legions were trained in the harsh north. Those that survived were toughened, and the pit-dogs of Woundweaver were taken as the Emperor's new bodyguard; honour and respect were heaped heavily upon them, and they never failed this amazing man, fanatically loyal and devoted in their duties. Wound weaver eventually was given the title of Warden of the East and led his legions to the west, to fight at Saden Fields. |
Kai-Losson Province | Kai Losson is not filled with a rich history. It is Province 'forced' into being by Valerian and circumstance. The Province has few settlements at all; it's filled with a rich, fertile soil, and holds great potential for development, if it could increase it's populace - as it is now, it is the breadbasket of the East, and the rolling hills contain rich deposits of both metals and precious gems. These remained utterly unexploited until the time of Valerian, and, even now, they are barely exhausted at all. Telmior, Dalthrasia, Acaserena all manage vast fields of crops and boast good resources, but incomparable to Kai Losson.
Valaerian moved to the province under advice from his ancient ones. He uprooted the remnants of Telmiori and deported most, killing those foolish enough to resist. As a man, he disliked slaughter, but sometimes it was necessary to prevent bloodshed on a greater scale and interrupt peace and harmony.
The majority of the tribes of Kai Losson agreed to parley, and he convinced them of his intent, the safety he could guarantee, and the degree of autonomy he nearly always granted; enough to salve their identity and pride. The tribes lived far apart from each, gathering rarely, but he suggested a different path.
He moved in the people he would need for growth. They established settlements, which were colonial in nature, peacefully so. Trade was established, mines, which tithed a good part of their productivity to the tribes. He respected the tribes' wishes, and strengthened the province vastly over the next decade. It would reach it's true potential for many more decades, but became vital, peaceful, and it's Horse Archers were integral to the strategy of the Eastern armies. |
Province of Saladir | The Imperial Province of Saladir in the East is a Principality as such, but they were placed under strict confines in this aspect by the emerging Emperor, after his swift, sky-borne, victory in the south. As with many conquered countries, the Skyhawks were vital in the conquest of Saladir. They simply could not defend against such a swift and decisive action.
The quick and light cavalry of the Saldir army was able to outmanoeuvre anything that Valerian could muster; they knew how to fight in the sands and arid lands they occupied and used their cavalry highly effectively, and had superb horse archers. Their noble 'Silver Lancers' were an appalling foe, and the Queen's Horse were fine shots. Their tactics were to outmanoenvre foes and wear them down, before hitting them hard as they stood exhausted, overcome by the heat.
Valerian brought in one army, making a defensive line around an oasis. Here, they were taunted and worn down. Dead littered the ground from horse archer fire. They sat for two weeks, leaving a force of 12,000 remaining from almost twice that. His was a decisive plan however. Behind the enemy lines, his air cavalry had already seized the capital city, Selis, seizing the Queen and the royal family. The massive hawk force had been silencing any messengers, and now struck the Royal Army from behind. Ten thousand Spurhawk riders hit them at dawn. As the air cavalry struck, Valerian led his cavalry, which had been hiding 1 mile hence, carefully wearing sand coloured tabards and cloaks. Three Thousand Legion Lancers hit the left flank, even as Valerian advanced on the foot troops of the foe. There was a terrible battle being fought - the Royal Army had no chance.
The King died before Valerian could get to him, but the Royal Forces surrendered, and Valerian was always magnanimous in victory.
The Queen and her sons were kept as the rulers of Saladir, but the sons would only ever be princes, not kings.
To placate the populace, they were given three years of no taxation or tithes. Better water was drawn from deeper wells, a council was et up to help rule. This was made of equal numbers of peasantry, military and aristocracy. A chosen Imperial Governor was also appointed, to aid in rule. One hundred years after this, the Prince was given equal power to the governor, and the Council was given powers over all of the industry and infrastructure of the Province, whilst the Prince and Governor were placed in command of the society and military of the Province. Since then, Saladir has remained an utterly loyal, supportive and productive member of the Empire. Saladir is a noble and idealistic province, and have always served the Empire well. |
Acasarena Province History | Some wars were fought hard during the first days of Empire. Valerian's invasion of Acasarena was not one of his finest hours, but it paled when compared to the murder of Telmior. AT least Telmior had a reason for the hate it inspired in the clans of the Sea of Grass. Acasarena was another story entirely.
Having seized Telmior, Dalthrasia, with the peaceful amalgamation of Atakash and Duinir, the road towards Empire was paved for the youth Valeian was. He moved forces against two more foes: Saladir and Acaserena. Saladir was a straightforward move - he would use diplomacy where possible, appeal to either the nobility or the people and engineer peace or a revolt.
Acaserena was a different tale entirely. Valerian knew nothing about them or their culture. They were simply beyond the borders of Telmior, and seemed a tempting target. Acasarena was wealthy as such, and it boasted an army that people called the 'Lionhearts'. Whilst not numerous, they proved to be a difficulty that almost tore the throne from his grasp. In the end, sheer brutality won out.
Diplomatic inroads were attempted, but all attempts were simply returned, always accompanied by the note 'A Lion does not bend its knee to a savage'. This infuriated him, and he began plans to invade. His usual tactics included heavy use of quick moving troops, of the Air Cavalries that he prized above all else, and of forced marches and daring manoeuvres.
Valerian delivered a three-pronged assault. To the north of the province, he sent seven thousand of his clansmen, only one thousand of which were mounted, all of which were ferocious fighters and heavily blooded. The target was the principal chokepoint of the self-styled 'kingdom', which wound through to the north of Telmior, into Ancillia. The town of Salia fell to the army in one blistering assault.
In the centre, Valerian sent four thousands of Spurhawk Cavalry, to assault the Capital of Acasarena; the city of Isiltir. Here, the plan went wrong. Hearing of the fall of Telmior and the lands to the south and east of the Sea of Grass, they had prepared their defences against aerial assault. Catapults had been raised to send shards of steel into the air; they had raised spikes on the walls, netted off areas of the city and had hired eight hundred crossbowmen from Ancillia to protect the city.
The Dawn assault was perfect in execution, but the Spur Hawks were repulsed easily, with heavy losses. They had seized some sections of the city, but with no support from ground forces, they were forced to flee. Luckily they could manage at least this with some grace.
In the South, Valerian moved his main force, twenty thousands of the main Imperial Army. There were men of Duinir, Atakash Angelbloods, more Spurhawksmen, Clansmen and men of mixed cultures who were the forerunners of the Legions that would soon be fully formed in Valerians' mind.
They attacked the Lionsbreath - the narrow valley that held the Fortress of that name, nestled in a high vale, silver walls glistening, pennants flying in a mist - this was where the heart of the nation stood. With one blow, he could finish the kingdom as a threat or target. The Spurhawks swept up over the walls, and were met with heavy missile fire, but tore through into open streets. His other forces struck in three places; the front gate, an eastern tower and the southern central wall. Siege engines coughed, missiles flew and men on both sides died.
Within hours, it became clear that this would be a hard fight, so when the Spurhawks came from the north, they were met with delight. The news they brought was not heard with delight. One thousand were sent north again, with dire orders, which were to be executed to the letter.
The Lionsbreath was attacked three times that day, and the sounds of battle were heard twice more that night, but there was little movement on either side.
Dawn the next day brought Valerian's anger down on the capital City, Isiltir. For hour after hour, the hawks rained pots of oil, pitch, bales of straw and possibly many other flammable chemicals. For a half-day, they did this, as the army from the north filed down into the plains before the city. Then, as the sun set, they dropped fireballs onto the city streets. The city burned for three days, uncontrollably. The screams rent the air, and all who fled from the conflagration were slaughtered as they ran from the walls. At the end of the third day, thousands littered the plains, and the city was lifeless. He had his victory, but at what cost to his own morality?
When the news was delivered to Lionsbreath, the fortress surrendered unconditionally. Fearing for their people, they surrendered, and their nobility burned itself into the raw eyes of the young Valerian. He was said to have never forgotten it, and he paid for it every day in his own mind. In his youth, his temper had ruled his heart, and he had won, but he could never take away the truth, and never did. He paid minstrels to sing of the Lion-hearted men of Acasarena, and raised the province above most others in his new Empire. He was said to have poured so much money into the province's rebirth that he almost bankrupted himself, but by then, was invading north and south...still impetuous, but a little more restrained in his emotions.
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The Imperial East, or the Ward of The Eastern Empire, is a land constantly threatened, constantly at war, never anything but a shifting mass that ebbs and flows, a roiling battleground in the wars between the 'non-subjugate powers' and the Empire - they face the might of Ashapur and the Federation as constant and consistent enemies, raided by the wolfborn reivers, and the coats scourged by the slaver-pirates of Hanghaven. The Bandit Kings are a thorn in the Empire's side, mostly due to the rich mineral deposits that their destitute 'lords' have raised their parodies of cities upon.
In the East, east of Duinir, lay the Naugiri, a predacious and hellish foe that moved their continent to crash into the Empire in order to scourge the lands clean of 'parasites'; meaning all humans. Duinir and it's Wardens bear the brunt of this, aided by many legions of troops, drawn up from the army that was to regain the Sun King, or 'Rebels'' lands, preventing a terrible war in the south, replacing it with a more terrifying war in the north east. Deadly, vicious, a war is fought under the eaves of Duinir, but occasionally spills out into the Sea of Grass and into Dalthrasia; one of the militarily strongest of the Eastern Provinces, with it's elite Pike units, often held back as reserves, to gauge which conflict needs them the most.
The Rebellion freed the Rebel-lands (The Lands of the Sun King) from Imperial rule, and the coming of the Naugiri ended all thoughts of a re-conquering of them. In the south, the Federation gather, but are rebuked by the men of Atakash and Saladir. The men of Losson Province aid the Myr Addat in their war, and the fleet of the east tackles the Wolf Born and Hanghaven as much they can. The Bloodless Ones, or Cimrai, hold the tall mountains south of the Naugiri, and are constantly engaging in skirmishes with them - they have become less of a plague since the Orcs came.
In short, the Eastern Empire is a liquid nation, shrinking and expanding, yet ever hanging on with bitter nails, their legions and massive wealth repulsing attack after attack. Make no mistake, the Eastern Empire is where it's wealth comes from, but the West is ever a military power, and the breadbasket of the whole Empire. It is not unusual for Western Provinces to commit troops to the East, but it usually come with an almost mercenary cost. Teetering valiantly, the East stands at a crossroads, one that will see it's pre-eminence or it's doom.
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Eastern March Provinces
History of Telmior Province
Telmior was ever pre-eminent amongst the First Kingdoms. They had a tightly ordered society, they were forward thinking, inventive and rich. They had the most fertile lands, were first to build walls, first to train a standing army, and they had one over-riding principle that this majestic society was built upon; slavery. For hundreds of years it had remained thus, and, in a few short weeks, they were to lose it all - for Ulaya, become Valerian, was to tear their world apart in a spume of blood and terror. The Empire of Telmior was going to fall.
Telmior was a land of open plains and rolling hills. To the north was Ancillia - the broken realm, a mix of mountain, rough steppe and savaged by a volcano and sheets of black ice that rolled down through the Winter. The East lay Dalthrasia, slightly south of that land was the Sea of Grass, where the most prized slaves were found, and further south were others, too far to matter.
Telmior revolved around the Brazen Queen, a woman always masked, the Empress of their world, lady of bronze, the whisperer of delights, she was said by most to be a true beauty, a wonder, by some a hideous crone who hid behind her mask. One thing was true - she never seemed to age or die, and that was reason enough for some to actually worship her.
When the first walls were built, the Brazen Queen and her Noble Sons were tired of fighting the barbarians of the Sea of Grass. They were beset by foes on every side, and all lacked order. The walls swiftly grew, and her people were safe more often than before. Her vigil was constant. She built up trade with some of the settlements at the edge of her demesne, and sent diplomats out to sow accord. Her nation was rising, and she knew that they stood above all others. Whether the Elves had ever been here was unclear, but precious little of her rule bore any shaping by elves.
Her rule expanded murderously. She sent her armies to conquer Ancillia, for fighting men could be trained from their stock, their harsh lives perfect for creating warriors. The few settlements in the south of the land fell in days. The northern half was harder to bring to heel, so she began a brutal campaign, burning the few fertile areas, salting the ground, brining them to starvation before accepting their surrender. These north men amongst the Ancillians were the best fodder for her new slave armies. In her cold chest her brazen heart sang.
The Ancillians were made to construct their own walls, to maintain a garrison of Telmiorne soldiers, to provide a levy of slaves each year, to have to beg for scraps from her table, and their harsh lives got harder.
She sent her forces two ways in the next hundred years; she raided the Sea of Grass constantly, for their quality as slaves was renowned, and she had found Ashapur, whose burgeoning slave culture caught her eye - she had an outlet for slaves, and Telmiorans were moving beyond their borders for trade, war and every other venture known to man. Daqlthrasia briefly fell to them, but they simply were asked to make a military tithe and a slave tithe each year; not as base as her 'accord' with Ancillia.
Her men’s' forays were led deep into Duinir now, and she fought with the men of Saladir, although they made no good slave stock, preferring to die than submit - much like the Barbarians of the Grass Sea, save that she had discovered how to break these men, whereas those of Saladir, noble and high-moraled could not be brought to heel.
The 'Empire' of Telmior grew, but more and more, the conquered nations became a vat of slaves to Telmior, even as the spread of this illness of conscience was festering within the very nations she ruled, as they came to depend on slaves from other nations within their own slave nation. The poison of moral decay spread, and she grew with it. She formed a new army, the Immortal Souls, slaves all, utterly hers to command and with them Telmior grew mightier still.
We come to the birth of Ulaya. Here, the Brazen Queen had converted all of her clients and vassals to what she had wanted - a fat vat of money, slaves and goods that self governed and almost existed outside her demesne, yet were so inextricably tied to Telmior. The Queen had finally achieved perfection, and now the sole target or her desire lay in the Sea of Grass. Records differ hugely, but she began to send slaver armies into the Sea now, upwards of four thousand men at a time sometimes, and the slaves became regular, but not plentiful. They would never unite - they had done on occasion, and this had held her from conquest, but they were dissolute now, stuck into several bandings of tribe, clan, caste, and even differences in their general demeanour. SO fragmented were they that she at last became intent on conquest, but the chance never came to true fruition, for now the child, Ulaya, was a man, and the doom of Telmior was written in the stars.
Ulaya was to become Valerian, and this name was taken from the books of Lore SHE kept, gathered from her lands, the names of nobles and high born men, which he stole from her.
We come to the scene at the Calrion City, the city nearest the Sea of Grass. Here, at dawn, the guards pulled their governor, Demetir, from his bed. A large column of his slaving forces was to be seen approaching the city, with a massive crop of slaves from the clans. There seemed to be few guards, but many slaves. This was truly exciting, but, when they approached the gates, it was found that the slaves were his men.... nine men bound to one, all blinded save the tenth, who was leading them home.
Such was the horror in his heart that he bore no consideration to what was happening elsewhere. As the blinded men began to clog the entry to the city, as the gates yawned ever-wider open, the forces of Ulaya attacked. Thousands of Spurhawk Cavalry dropped from the skies above, each carrying rocks that they dropped upon the city's defenders. From the tall grasses came two thousand Atlaians, 'Bloodhunters', who overran the gates in mere seconds, even as Demetri realised what his foe had done. Horsemen poured from the plains, more infantry. Thousands of barbarians from the Sea of Grass poured in to sack the second biggest city in the Telmioran Empire.
The war moved swiftly. Two towns fell to Ulaya, both burned, but the worst thing, the travesty, was that he killed good free folk, and FREED the slaves. Ancillia had declared themselves independent very quickly after the first blows of the war fell. Others may have well assaulted her on every side as they fell silent, watchful, eager even. Some settlements sent soldiers, others freed their slaves, and others simply barred the gates to the walls that Telmior had had them build.
Within a month it became apparent that the Brazen Queens must meet Ulaya, now daring to call himself Valerian, in the field. She gathered the Immortal Souls, gathered her lesser slave legions, her allies that had sent forces, the mercenaries she maintained and the Noble Sons led the regular army behind their gilded chariots. She fielded 40,000 men, the largest force to have graced the East, and awaited the Men of Ashapur, who had promised half that number in addition; their full host to protect their interests.
Valerian, hearing of their warcamp, accepted the surrender of the latest small town and marched immediately towards her forces. Never one to miss opportunity, he gathered all to him and arrayed his host opposite hers. He had less than twenty thousand, many of whom were very young clansmen or even were forces of the Telmioran slave army. To maximise his surprise, he had not had time to gather his best and his garrison troops, but his Air Cavalry were all present. Messages had been sent, but he dared not hope any would be in time. Valerian knew his foe and he also knew how effective his strategies were when in combination, and this battle held the greatest risk he would ever take, yet had the greatest plan behind it. He gave himself a one in ten chance of winning.... less of surviving. Yet this was not yet a dream of Empire, but one of revenge.
With Dawn's rise, the battle horns sounded. Valerian's forces were arrayed in supportive ranks, having piled dirt up during the night for their archers to gain height, and their spearmen took the front ranks, protecting the better but less armoured soldiers of the clans.
In her centre, the Brazen Queen of Telmior had the Noble Sons, flanked by thousand upon thousand of the other forces. As the chariots swirled around her, she signalled the Immortal Souls, and they split to take the far point of each flank, enveloping the forces of Valerian, each of those forces set in an enormous wedge. From almost any viewpoint, the battle seemed won, but it wasn't.
As you may already consider, Valerian had been working on the slaves that formed the greater part of her host, but it was not a simple end to this battle. The first ranks clashed, and men and horses died. For an hour they fought, before the first slave and allied forces pulled back, retreating at speed. The loss of these men left gaping holes in her lines, and she ordered the Immortal Souls forwards, into battle - the others she would deal with at leisure.
The armies clash again, and Valerian's lines seemed to buckle against the Immortal Souls. He ordered the Air Cavalry in, to strike the rear of the foe's legions, and the battle swirled back and forth. AT about the eight hour, the Brazen Queen lost her right centre, as her forces from the more eastern allies dissipated. She ordered her reserves of Immortal Souls in, to slaughter them, and the battle became chaotic. This was what he had prepared for. Valerian's gambit had paid off.
He could never turn the Immortal Souls. None could. They were broken men, her slaves forever, her lovers, her children. So he turned to her people themselves. As the Souls renewed their assault, the Noble Sons drove harder into their flanks, whilst other household units began to cut down those next to them, the ones who hadn't turned.
Valerian mounted his Spurhawk. Taking a thousand of his men, he drove straight at the Queen's massive chariot, and few stood in his way. The Immortal Souls that barred his path were slaughtered where they stood, much as they were elsewhere in the utter confusion that reigned. Valerian cut down her commander, his men scattered her Brazen Guard, and finally the man that was Ulaya stood before her. She stood tall, and her Kinsai blade swept a path towards his head. He sidestepped the blow and grabbed her mask, twisted and pulled her to her knees. They struggled for a few more seconds, then he cut the bindings that held the mask on, and her face was revealed in the sunlight. The Brazen Queen was a strikingly beautiful girl; she was not human, but bore golden skin like that of the Selediri Elves, yet her features were mean; she looked as foul as the Selediri were fair, and she would never tell her tale to a soul, for, as he held the mask in numbed hands, she pulled her throat into the blade that Valerian had cut her mask straps with. In a dire sort of majesty, she toppled sideways to the bloodied grass, lifeless.
Telmior was done. Valerian was to spend mere weeks in negotiations, freeing all slaves, but executing those who turned on their previous masters. He stood as a King, and his judgement was seen to be divine indeed, for he began to mend the society that was broken - a task that would take a hundred years to truly fulfil, but at least had it's beginnings here.
The Province of Ancillia
Ancillia is a strange province. The south is not considered to be overly fertile, but sustains a decent populace, where plains slowly become steppe and then end in a broken mountain range. Legends speak of this range moving, of it coming to life before the terrified eyes of travellers, only to settle again in a different position. Some with the knowledge pos that it could one of the most ancient of Avatars; one so old that it has grown to be the 'small god' of an entire mountain range rather than a stream, pool, or oasis. If true, then it is mighty indeed.
To the north of the mountains, the land becomes disastrous. A leaking volcano dribbles fire and poisons into a series of valleys, pooling around a large plateau that seems to cling to life, if barely. The plateau extends to the sea, and here Ancillia is visited by other horrors. From the coast one can see the many small isles that act as home to many Avatars, wild and abandoned, filled with sharp reefs and often clogged with strange predators that prevent the simple of fishing from brining succour to the land. In winter, the black ice comes from the north...it grows tall and shears from the polar caps, then gathers water to it as it journeys south, meeting the coast of Ancillia, driving up the beaches, to plough into deep grooves in the Plateau. Where the Black Ice meets the volcanic mass, strange things happen, and men have gone mad when exposed to the gases emitted. Many talk about the Black Ice as if it was haunted, or alive with malice, but that seems ridiculous to anyone sane.
Ancillia was enthralled to the Brazen Queen of Telmior from its earliest days. Certainly in the south, her hold was strong, but in the north, her legions simply build one garrison town and sat there in fear. The culture of Ancillia was built of toughness, or survival, both even. The oldest tradition is Ancillia is that of the fighting pit. In the north, when communities or clans argued there was no war. They could not afford to lose their men in battle. Instead, they fought between champions and the winner was considered to justify his cause. These men slowly became more professional and were called 'Pit Dogs' by the Telmiori.
In the south, she conquered the land fully, and it was under her sway, growing and becoming more decrepit and stagnant morally under her heavy hand. The battles for 'justice' ceased, and simply became games to wager on, blood to enjoy the shedding of and the crowds would escape their servitude and roar like lions at the death of their own people, especially when a Northman was brought south in chains, or a warrior from the Sea of Grass was torn apart by wild beasts.
When Valerian crushed the Brazen Queen, the Ancillians revolted. It was no massive military action, but very sedate. They simply stopped paying attention to the Brazen Queen and her officers and officials were slain in the pits, dragged there by the hungry-eyed crowds. It was after the fall of Telmior that their problems really began. Several leaders came forwards, and a council of sorts was formed. In the time that it took from the fall of Telmior, through the capture of Acaserena, they had begun to look outwards, the ambitions of fools gone mad with power.
In the north, the Telmior garrison was overrun and slaughtered, but little else changed at first. Then a leader came forward who changed much in the north. He was an old 'pit-dog', named the 'Mournweaver', on account of the amount of people he had slain. He had lost only once, but left enough blood and body-parts behind in that fight to be spared death by the victor, who had then fallen from a cliff when rescuing a stranded herd-beast.
Mournweaver marched south, determined to have a voice in the future of Ancillia. AT this time, the Council saw fit to raise monies by hiring their pit-dogs out to neighbouring nations as bodyguards and, then to the Crown Prince of Dalthrasia in his attempt to replace his Queen as the ruler of that Queendom.
When Valerian foiled this attempt, he lost good men, and his ire turned north, to Ancillia. The province was poor, but he was fascinated by the legends of the northern side, and his fury would be sent against the South.
The Mournweaver gathered his men and marched to the westernmost town of Laseya, whereupon he was barred access at first. This wild-looking man and his warriors were recognisably Ancillian, but their councillor was in the new capital, Lysillia and the ability to make choice upon need had been bred out of them by the Brazen Queen. When he demanded access and succour, they shot arrows at him and his men, wounding several, and he fell back in a black mood. Two days later, he and his men assaulted the walls and killed every man in the town that bore arms against them.
Word reached the capital quickly, and a force was dispatched to deal with him. This army outnumbered his by five to one, the best and the worst the fledgling state could offer. They marched swiftly on the town and invested it, swiftly building engines of war with which to shatter gates and walls. Their commander, Ederis did not like the option of facing North men on the walls. He knew what they lived through and their toughness and savagery.
Valerian fell on the fortified town of Kirine and swiftly took the walls, then was dumbfounded by the stone keep within the wooden shell. The keep had a wooden roof under which archers could shelter, and Valerian could not bring his Air Cavalry to bear, so he began to ready an assault on the walls, costly though it may be. The citizens of Kirine faced no brutality at Valerian's hands, but their leaders were hung in the market square, their crime of regicide read at length to the populace, who had known nothing of this.
Almost simultaneously, the forces of Valerian attacked the keep and the Ancillian attacked the breaches they had created, but the forces of Mournweaver beat them back in 5 day-long assaults. The Keep of Kirine fell swiftly once the Atlaians and the Royal Guards of Dalthrasia stormed the walls, vengeance and indignation in their hearts, where the defenders has little of anything in theirs.
Valerian immediately set off east, and word reached him of the attack on Mournweaver. He paused momentarily, and led half of his force to the east. He fell in wrath on Mournweaver's enemies, and a brief battle was fought - in truth a slaughter. Barely two hundreds of Mournweaver's mean remained, but he met Valerian as an equal and was high in his esteem. Together, they turned west, to the capital, and they arrived precisely as the host from the host did.
Swiftly, the capital, Lysillia, was invested. Every man defended the walls, and some of the best soldiers of Telmior had fled there after the Queen's death; this fight would not be an easy one. For three days, Valerian pounded the city, the deep coughing of war engines sending fire and death into the city, but he could breach the walls, and the inevitable assault began, with both towers and ladders brought up against the defences.
Six assaults were made, and the war engines kept their fire upon the city between each assault, depriving the defenders of sleep, whilst his men rotated their numbers for each attack. On the seventh attack, Valerian himself led the most part, with Woundweaver at his side. The Pit Dogs were unstoppable, and the Atlaians that guarded their Emperor were equally driven, but of less skill in the brutal art of massacre.
Punching a hole in the defenders' lines, he secured the gates and his army poured through into the city. They fought running battles, and the city fell, piece by piece. All that surrendered were spared, and their wounded were tended to. The last stand was made in the market square, and their end was merciless and brutal. Woundweaver led this assault, and he cut down dozens of men by himself. At the end of the defence, nigh on all defenders were slain, and the nation of Ancillia capitulated. Ready for a second despotic ruler, they awaited their punishment and indenture into slavery, but they were mistaken.
Valerian gave them two years without taxes, money and men to rebuild all damage and installed Woundweaver as their confused new governor. The fortunes of the province rose greatly, and the Imperial Guard Legions were trained in the harsh north. Those that survived were toughened, and the pit-dogs of Woundweaver were taken as the Emperor's new bodyguard; honour and respect were heaped heavily upon them, and they never failed this amazing man, fanatically loyal and devoted in their duties. Wound weaver eventually was given the title of Warden of the East and led his legions to the west, to fight at Saden Fields.
Kai-Losson Province
Kai Losson is not filled with a rich history. It is Province 'forced' into being by Valerian and circumstance. The Province has few settlements at all; it's filled with a rich, fertile soil, and holds great potential for development, if it could increase it's populace - as it is now, it is the breadbasket of the East, and the rolling hills contain rich deposits of both metals and precious gems. These remained utterly unexploited until the time of Valerian, and, even now, they are barely exhausted at all. Telmior, Dalthrasia, Acaserena all manage vast fields of crops and boast good resources, but incomparable to Kai Losson.
Valaerian moved to the province under advice from his ancient ones. He uprooted the remnants of Telmiori and deported most, killing those foolish enough to resist. As a man, he disliked slaughter, but sometimes it was necessary to prevent bloodshed on a greater scale and interrupt peace and harmony.
The majority of the tribes of Kai Losson agreed to parley, and he convinced them of his intent, the safety he could guarantee, and the degree of autonomy he nearly always granted; enough to salve their identity and pride. The tribes lived far apart from each, gathering rarely, but he suggested a different path.
He moved in the people he would need for growth. They established settlements, which were colonial in nature, peacefully so. Trade was established, mines, which tithed a good part of their productivity to the tribes. He respected the tribes' wishes, and strengthened the province vastly over the next decade. It would reach it's true potential for many more decades, but became vital, peaceful, and it's Horse Archers were integral to the strategy of the Eastern armies.
Province of Saladir
The Imperial Province of Saladir in the East is a Principality as such, but they were placed under strict confines in this aspect by the emerging Emperor, after his swift, sky-borne, victory in the south. As with many conquered countries, the Skyhawks were vital in the conquest of Saladir. They simply could not defend against such a swift and decisive action.
The quick and light cavalry of the Saldir army was able to outmanoeuvre anything that Valerian could muster; they knew how to fight in the sands and arid lands they occupied and used their cavalry highly effectively, and had superb horse archers. Their noble 'Silver Lancers' were an appalling foe, and the Queen's Horse were fine shots. Their tactics were to outmanoenvre foes and wear them down, before hitting them hard as they stood exhausted, overcome by the heat.
Valerian brought in one army, making a defensive line around an oasis. Here, they were taunted and worn down. Dead littered the ground from horse archer fire. They sat for two weeks, leaving a force of 12,000 remaining from almost twice that. His was a decisive plan however. Behind the enemy lines, his air cavalry had already seized the capital city, Selis, seizing the Queen and the royal family. The massive hawk force had been silencing any messengers, and now struck the Royal Army from behind. Ten thousand Spurhawk riders hit them at dawn. As the air cavalry struck, Valerian led his cavalry, which had been hiding 1 mile hence, carefully wearing sand coloured tabards and cloaks. Three Thousand Legion Lancers hit the left flank, even as Valerian advanced on the foot troops of the foe. There was a terrible battle being fought - the Royal Army had no chance.
The King died before Valerian could get to him, but the Royal Forces surrendered, and Valerian was always magnanimous in victory.
The Queen and her sons were kept as the rulers of Saladir, but the sons would only ever be princes, not kings.
To placate the populace, they were given three years of no taxation or tithes. Better water was drawn from deeper wells, a council was et up to help rule. This was made of equal numbers of peasantry, military and aristocracy. A chosen Imperial Governor was also appointed, to aid in rule. One hundred years after this, the Prince was given equal power to the governor, and the Council was given powers over all of the industry and infrastructure of the Province, whilst the Prince and Governor were placed in command of the society and military of the Province. Since then, Saladir has remained an utterly loyal, supportive and productive member of the Empire. Saladir is a noble and idealistic province, and have always served the Empire well.
Acasarena Province History
Some wars were fought hard during the first days of Empire. Valerian's invasion of Acasarena was not one of his finest hours, but it paled when compared to the murder of Telmior. AT least Telmior had a reason for the hate it inspired in the clans of the Sea of Grass. Acasarena was another story entirely.
Having seized Telmior, Dalthrasia, with the peaceful amalgamation of Atakash and Duinir, the road towards Empire was paved for the youth Valeian was. He moved forces against two more foes: Saladir and Acaserena. Saladir was a straightforward move - he would use diplomacy where possible, appeal to either the nobility or the people and engineer peace or a revolt.
Acaserena was a different tale entirely. Valerian knew nothing about them or their culture. They were simply beyond the borders of Telmior, and seemed a tempting target. Acasarena was wealthy as such, and it boasted an army that people called the 'Lionhearts'. Whilst not numerous, they proved to be a difficulty that almost tore the throne from his grasp. In the end, sheer brutality won out.
Diplomatic inroads were attempted, but all attempts were simply returned, always accompanied by the note 'A Lion does not bend its knee to a savage'. This infuriated him, and he began plans to invade. His usual tactics included heavy use of quick moving troops, of the Air Cavalries that he prized above all else, and of forced marches and daring manoeuvres.
Valerian delivered a three-pronged assault. To the north of the province, he sent seven thousand of his clansmen, only one thousand of which were mounted, all of which were ferocious fighters and heavily blooded. The target was the principal chokepoint of the self-styled 'kingdom', which wound through to the north of Telmior, into Ancillia. The town of Salia fell to the army in one blistering assault.
In the centre, Valerian sent four thousands of Spurhawk Cavalry, to assault the Capital of Acasarena; the city of Isiltir. Here, the plan went wrong. Hearing of the fall of Telmior and the lands to the south and east of the Sea of Grass, they had prepared their defences against aerial assault. Catapults had been raised to send shards of steel into the air; they had raised spikes on the walls, netted off areas of the city and had hired eight hundred crossbowmen from Ancillia to protect the city.
The Dawn assault was perfect in execution, but the Spur Hawks were repulsed easily, with heavy losses. They had seized some sections of the city, but with no support from ground forces, they were forced to flee. Luckily they could manage at least this with some grace.
In the South, Valerian moved his main force, twenty thousands of the main Imperial Army. There were men of Duinir, Atakash Angelbloods, more Spurhawksmen, Clansmen and men of mixed cultures who were the forerunners of the Legions that would soon be fully formed in Valerians' mind.
They attacked the Lionsbreath - the narrow valley that held the Fortress of that name, nestled in a high vale, silver walls glistening, pennants flying in a mist - this was where the heart of the nation stood. With one blow, he could finish the kingdom as a threat or target. The Spurhawks swept up over the walls, and were met with heavy missile fire, but tore through into open streets. His other forces struck in three places; the front gate, an eastern tower and the southern central wall. Siege engines coughed, missiles flew and men on both sides died.
Within hours, it became clear that this would be a hard fight, so when the Spurhawks came from the north, they were met with delight. The news they brought was not heard with delight. One thousand were sent north again, with dire orders, which were to be executed to the letter.
The Lionsbreath was attacked three times that day, and the sounds of battle were heard twice more that night, but there was little movement on either side.
Dawn the next day brought Valerian's anger down on the capital City, Isiltir. For hour after hour, the hawks rained pots of oil, pitch, bales of straw and possibly many other flammable chemicals. For a half-day, they did this, as the army from the north filed down into the plains before the city. Then, as the sun set, they dropped fireballs onto the city streets. The city burned for three days, uncontrollably. The screams rent the air, and all who fled from the conflagration were slaughtered as they ran from the walls. At the end of the third day, thousands littered the plains, and the city was lifeless. He had his victory, but at what cost to his own morality?
When the news was delivered to Lionsbreath, the fortress surrendered unconditionally. Fearing for their people, they surrendered, and their nobility burned itself into the raw eyes of the young Valerian. He was said to have never forgotten it, and he paid for it every day in his own mind. In his youth, his temper had ruled his heart, and he had won, but he could never take away the truth, and never did. He paid minstrels to sing of the Lion-hearted men of Acasarena, and raised the province above most others in his new Empire. He was said to have poured so much money into the province's rebirth that he almost bankrupted himself, but by then, was invading north and south...still impetuous, but a little more restrained in his emotions.
The Karesi Lionhearts | After the Conquest of Acasarena, Valerian made every man or woman who bent their knee to him listen to the tale of Acasarena. On one hand, they were reminded of the brutality he evidenced, but, more importantly, it evidenced his magnanity in victory, and the true nobility of the warrior classes of the province.
He took the soldiers from the Lionbreath, formed them into one army, and then named them the 'Lionhearts'. They were trained, equipped and given the complete freedom over their fortress in that Vale. He raised them up for all to see, and they embraced him for it, for he made them heroes, and cast himself as the villain to do so |
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The Province of Akatash | The People of Atakash are bound by a warrior-code. They are honourable, motivated and highly organised. They are also most certainly not fools.
There is a religious sentiment in their society. It is held that they were visited many times by angels. It was these angels that gave the nobility their rule, and their blood is said to run in the veins of the Atakash Noble Families. There is a rite that is held as truth, laid down in history at the dawn of man. It tells of dealings with angelic figures, who taught them many things, but, more importantly, shared their blood with the greatest amongst the Atakash, as it imparted wisdom through shared memories. One hundred and twelve men formed the first tribe of the Atakash, and they are even now the 112 noble families of the Province; the Autocracy of Atakash.
There are no singular titular heads of Atakash. The 112 families rule together, but all disputes are taken to a 'lowborn man', making there a hundred and thirteen members of the Autocratic Council. The last man, the lowborn, is given greater powers, and is the arbiter in any decision. He can veto edicts, given the support of a third of the Houses, but has a limit before he must resign. It's lands are divided into 113 'provinces', each under the lordship of a noble family, save the last, the City of Arakamesh, which is home to the ruling council, and the 'lowborn man'.
The land was never numerously populated, but the sheer ferocity of its warriors allowed them to remain autonomous until the coming of Ulaya, the man who would become Valerian, first Emperor of the Dragonthrone.
Their culture was never stagnant, but, like the Atlaia under Valerian, they had no dreams of conquest. Trade was left to the lower born, and each person occupied a vital role in the community, from the weaver to the Akurai, or commander of the Guard - a general for want of a better word. There was no colonial dream; warriors fought for dreams and ritual passage, only man versus man; battles were fought between Houses, but these were usually to bloody troops, to keep their abilities sharp and to rectify slights of honour. Combat could be arranged by champions, or a house could go to war with another. Should a war occur, no territory was conquered, and it was very rare that more than a few hundred fought. There were ancient alliances, but somehow, they invented an exceedingly complex system, which prevented the slaughter of thousand for political power. The ruling classes trained their sons every day, and for little but combat expertise.
Early on they had fought various incursions, many of which were from Ashapur or even slavers from Telmior. The south was unconquered wilderness, inhabited by Fey folk and abnormal beasts. This they left to it's own devices.
The nobility always formed the core of any army, gathered by family in units known as the Atakash Angelbloods. They were known by this name due to their exalted bloodline and for the wings they wore to battle. These wings were an ancient gift that allowed the wearer to offset some of the burden of weight from heavy armour, aiding the wearer in burden or over harsh terrain. They are agile, swift and deadly.
Each family is made up from a Ashkarakai (a 'chieftain'), his immediate family, then a feudal grouping of lesser families that provided 1 noble Angelblood and 2 in every 5 people in their jurisdiction would be called as levies for war. The system certainly works. Many small nations rose and fell in the forming of the greater ones that consumed them. Atakash was never conquered or made subservient, despite many attempts to conquer them.
When Valerian took his armies south to Atakash, he had taken Salidir and was fascinated by this new culture. He observed their society and gained great respect for them as a people. In all of this time, he never visited in state or armed for war, but is said to have made many journeys into their lands and settlements as a plain trader. His main observation lay in the gauging of the price of Conquest. He decided that it would be a long, bloody war that would have to break the back of a society he had come to like. Each and every Angelblood would have to die or be turned to his side, and he knew they would never betray their own, so it was murder to achieve domination of them. Each settlement was strong, down to single noble manses, and would be resistant, almost naively, to air attack.
He entered the country with ten men. The favoured 'divide and conquer' approach was of no use, as was any direct assault, so he simply walked into the Grand Hall, where 86 of the Ruling Lords were debating, and announced himself. He talked quietly about the visions he had, of his view as to how the world should be and how he had won his battles. He gifted each House with a Spurhawk, and gave every word a song of humility. He was perfect. He promised protection from the enemies that Atakash already had, that the young Angelbloods would have the change to test and improve their skills in war. He would only ask that he would maintain a sizeable force of Angelbloods permanently, and that the province would need to provide the levies in the way that the Atakash already had agreed culturally. There would be no foreign interference in their society and it's culture and no taxes. He would, however, require a gift each year to support him, but no amount was ever set, and he would pay the Houses for their soldiers in the field. As it stands, Atakash gives this 'gift' once per year, and it contains what they can afford, no more, no less.
He brought in his air cavalries, showed their manoeuvres and the Lords were greatly pleased. He then gave them 200 of his Spurhawk Riders as a force under their own control, and would train new legions to use the hawks for themselves, as well as train the lower castes into Legions should the Province be attacked. It was genuine, and the lords voted on becoming an almost totally autonomous province of the Empire. It was unanimous. Atakash would become vassals of this great man, Ulaya, now become Valerian.
The first thing to change for the better was the great agrarians of the Empire...they sent many farmers and even Old Ones to Atakash, and the arid soil was enhanced, allowing better crops, water was diverted, better wells made - many valuable 'modernising' methods were introduced, but none would impact on their beliefs, nor change the way they were. Valerian was in love with their world, and he kept the Angelbloods by his side through every campaign, relied on them for their utter loyalty, and their ability to be able to show him a foolish decision he would otherwise have made, when others may stay silent for fear of their heads.Angelbloods | Basically, the structure of Atakash is developed around martial prowess. It's not necessarily only the highborn that get to fight, but a warrior that is gifted can be elevated to the nobility for this skill. Since they became a part of the Empire, the lowborn soldiers they used to maintain are supplanted by the Legions (although the lowborn are often the soldiers that form the legions), so they field only the Angelbloods as a standing force.
The Atakash Angelbloods are called Angelbloods because they, like most conquered nations or once great powers, still cling to their heritage, and they freely give their blood to the survival of their nation and it's ways. There is mention of the warriors being taught by angelic creatures, which is completely unsubstantiated, but lends a blood nobility to the high born amongst them....a right to rule and a benevolence in doing so.
As warriors, they remain some of the best and most steadfast of all Imperial Forces, and abhor the very notion of slavery, so often fight in the vanguard of any action against Ashapur |
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Imperial Province of Duinir | Before The Empire came, Duinir was a deeply wooded area, where small villages lived in a loose community. Wardens moved through and protected these villages, and decided fair justice on those within. Trade was arbitrated by them, as were most matters, and the Wardens were idealistic and had integrity for the main. The Great Ward was a larger dwelling, dug out of an ancient Weirden Tree., ringed by smaller versions of the long dead father of the forest. The inhabitants of the Great Ward had no idea what a Weirden Tree was, or that the Lindiri had abandoned it some time before the Duinir moved into it. The highest amongst the Council of Wardens knew of the Lindiri; often they visited, as the tree was held in high regard, and those living there were determined to have given the forest the respect it deserved. Should the Lindiri have wished it, at this point in their history, the entire population of Duinir would be dead overnight should they have lived differently.
Around 800 Wardens lived in the Great Ward, and a similar amount were travelling the villages of Duinir. These men were all that stood between their people and those would seek to harm them. The 20 Council members had been taught much of their knowledge, and their morals by the Lindiri. A few Wardens had been given the knowledge of Ley Channelling; they proved to be almost the only humans ever to have been able to use it...the elves will always state that man cannot Channel because of their state of mind, not because they just cannot. Weiridng magic is the way of man in the use of magic, as the College of Sorcery taught the first firebinders under Valerian's tutelage.
Within Duinir, a large community of Lindiri still remained, deep in the forest, and it is likely that they do so now. The Wardens performed another task within their main shepherding of their people. They proscribed the areas the Lindiri occupied as places of no travel, although some did try entry; they either turned back on themselves are began where they had started, or a few were said to have made it to the spirits in the forest and came back much changed.
For generations, this way of life had existed, and it had worked. New blood within the Council pushed the larger settlements forwards, building upon their lands, erecting new buildings, moving some of the populace where there was building to be done, and an influx of trade brought new people to their forests, swelling the population. Their easy, sedate lives were changing. Full councils, run by Wardens, were installed within the larger settlements. This development hit it's height when they built their first 'city' - In the Woodpike lived nearly three thousand people, and it was a wonder, consisting of a walled town and many building erected in the huge trees that rose around it, and passed through it. A militia had formed to deal with past threats, but this city began training a small regular army.
As the walls were finished, there came reports of missing people to the East, and even an entire village had burned without any survivors. Here had come the first scouts of a foe they would later face in full. In the Great Ward, power was being transferred to individual settlements, and they were slowly becoming more isolated and insular. The Wardens in the settlements still behaved as they should, but the greater knowledge they had was held solely within the Ward. To meet this threat, the Great Ward mobilised its Wardens. Eleven hundred men and women marched to the east, to find this threat where the lesser skills of the towns-wardens would not endure.
They came across the village of Tenbeam and stumbled into the mire of slaughter left behind the invaders. They discovered a small force of Lindiri camped nearby, who had also begun to track these foes. They revealed what they knew, and that was little. NO one had seen the creatures the Lindiri described before, and that sent cold dread into the Wardens there gathered. AT this point a terrible tragedy was unveiled. A party of Lindiri scouts was ambushed by people of Duinir, sent from the settlements. Nearly 80 animist had been killed, alongside some few Fey, but they had fought hard. The Wardens from the Great Ward attempted to avoid any retaliation, but many animists marched in the deeper shadows of night, and the urban troops of Duinir were scattered, almost annihilated by them. The remainder were hunted down and slain - not one would return to their homes, and the Wardens could not argue against the Lindiri response.
A second army was on it's way though, and numbered three thousand...a host of the men of Duinir, but one not of the Wardens. It became apparent that the urban councils had fallen away from their old way and old oaths. They were met in the field; this time by the Lindir and the old Wardens. In a shifting battle, the outcome was sadly one-sided. The urban army was smashed, and the 'Warden' leaders were brought before the Lindir and men of the Great Ward. They were summarily executed. Wardens were dispatched to all settlements, to remove any of the Councils that refused their oaths to be retaken.
In some places, the Councils ran true, but in many, they're were utterly corrupt. Some welcomed the Wardens, others refused them entry, and others sent their heads to the Great Ward.
SO the civil war began. The Great Ward gathered its men and women; messages were sent to the settlements that were true. Woodpike, the 'capital' of Duinir remained true, but was swiftly placed under siege. The corrupted Wardens lay siege to it, and they sent three armies against the other large settlements that remained true, alongside a force to burn the Great Ward. This was their mistake. The army that moved against the Great Ward began to bring up ladders, even to construct siege engines, but they were never used. The tiny garrison, two hundred only, were on the walls when the Lindiri attacked. Three thousands of Animists and another thousand Fey attacked this army. The Great Wardens sallied, and the enemy were routed.
The Fey followed this up. They moved to aid the Great Wardens, and battle under the forest eaves was fought for seven years. The entire west and South of the province went over to the 'corrupt' Councils, but many of the Northern and Eastern settlements went to the Great Wardens. The West and South were far more densely populated however, and only the Lindir allowed them to hold. Slowly, they held their lines, and then slowly began to defeat the western settlements. It was the West that capitulated first. Their hearts were still tied to the forests, and it took only a show of force and three decisive battles to bring them back to the old ways. They would not take up arms against the Southern men of Duinir, but the held to the old ways. It seemed that a dense black cloud was lifting in the West. There was more to this that just simple corruption.
The south had hired mercenaries from Dalthrasia and some from further south, amongst the Clans of the Earthspine - CImrai, they were called, although the nobles called themselves the Haladin. The civil war was to be a longer and more bloody affair because of this. The New Council of Duinir had amassed nigh on twenty thousand troops, whilst the Great Wardens numbered only 1100 Wardens, 6000 militia and 3000 Fey. More years passed, and the war was swinging back and forth, decimating villages and shattering the walls of Woodpike, which had held a four month siege in the spring, when the main strength of fey were locked in battle in the south west, tricked into a rash strike due to the burning of Weirden Trees. They destroyed the forces that were killing the great trees, then swung north at speed, and struck the besieging force. This time, the battle was not so single sided, but the siege was broken and it took days to burn the dead.
The war entered its final stage two months later, as the forces of the Great Ward were being increasing fewer. Rumours told that more of the Lindiri were marching from the south, but the Great Ward may well have fallen, had not Valerian (still known as Ulaya at this time) come upon them. With a swift assault by Spurhawk Riders, he took two major towns, and his infantry swept up to link with those of the Great Ward. In Council, Valerian met the Lindiri and the Great Wardens, and terms were agreed. The Empire would aid them in their just war, leaving the Fey to their chosen lands in perpetuity, whilst Duinir would become a province of the fledgling Empire, under the terms that it would remain socially as it was, allowing for the development of the south into a defensive wall against these Haladin of the Earthspine Mountains. They would pay tithes to the Empire, provide soldiers, but would, in return gain stability, growth and the just laws of the Empire, and the promise of it's Legions in war.
This lasted hundreds of years, with great peace. Duinir was one of the few Provinces not to see the scars of war. This changed with the coming of the Naugiri, the Orcs, whose scouts had so long ago destroyed a village in the East of Duinir. |
HISTORY OF DALTHRASIA PROVINCE | Complete with appalling typos....I can spell, write joined up, all sorts, but I just can't type even simple things....sorry it's long...I have REALLY truncated these, believe me...
Dalthrasia is a province of hills and flat plains, fertile, rich with metal deposits, even gemstone mines, it was, behind Telmior, the most powerful nation in the East before it encountered Valerian and his armies. Telmior was butchered, for the crime of slavery. Dalthrasia was won by other means.
The people of Dalthrasia is inhabited by tall men, akin to the men of Duinir, but founded on different ideals, and boasts very little forest. The political system is Monarchic in nature, but Valerian changed much of that. The people of the province worked hard, built walled strongholds, and spent a hundred years fighting petty wars before uniting behind their first King, Lodens. It was his grand-daughter, Iriyin that Valerian faced. Her consort was Prince Telenyrn, who had a solid basis in economics, but little if any military experience. Iriyin however had plenty of experience. She had led the Lords of Dalthrasia against the incursions of Telmior, who were no allies of Dalthrasia. She fought for several years to repulse enough attacks to make Telmior think twice about sending more men tot heir deaths for small gains.
She was a typical tom-boy; a girl who behaved in a most unlady-like fashion. Born to the saddle, wielding a blade of wood when four, she had made a great Queen at the age of fourteen, and now surpassed all expectations. She was not a fool. After Telmior toppled, she celebrated, but with the fall of other nations to Valerian, she saw the danger he presented ever more keenly, and knew he would turn his gaze to Dalthrasia; a prize for the taking, which would seal all borders of the Sea of Grass with allies or client-states.
Her finest men were the Dalthrasian Pike. They were legendary men, who were simply the best soldiers in the East. They had learned tactics to eliminate the chariots of Telmior, and she trained them hard - harder yet since she slept on the growing fear of Valeiran. She had trained her archers to stand within the ranks of pikemen, who held pikes in differing lines, to cover the heads of the soldiers from this Hawk threat. Still, she could not see a victory in the coming conflict, so she sought other means for victory or simple peace. The secret counsels she held were, as all secrets are, leaked by some, and other nobles believed she would capitulate. They plotted to remove her, and ally themselves with whatever 'free states' remained. They sent men to Ancillia and Ashapur, even to Clans from the Sea of Grass who still remained apart from Valerian's unification.
Iryin was to be removed, and it fell to her Prince Consort to remove her. As happenstance sometimes is, she changed her guard that night, and the men of the House of the Ebon Hawk were replaced by the House of the Glittering Spear, who proved to be loyal. Unbeknownst to her, there were some who grew aware of this plot, and they seized the chance to move against their traitor brothers. Three of the noble families stood by her, and they sent one of their own each to watch in her chamber each night. Luckily for her, they were present; usually she grew furious and shouted them out of her bower. Tonight she did not.
The attack came at midnight. Three hundred men were let into the palace complex, and they seized the gate and other areas quickly and without alarm...few even tried to resist, and some joined them. With their numbers swollen, they assaulted the palace itself. Twelve of their number had remained inside the palace, and attacked her rooms. The Glittering Spears saw them with naked blades and barred the doors to them. It took them twenty minutes to break through to her chambers. Elsewhere, the sound of battle raged - the East Wing was under assault, and the West was unable to stave off the first attack. Their Palace Guard retreated further into the palace.
The Twelve attacked the Glittering Spears, who has roused the Queen and her unwanted 'champions. They entered the fray, and soon the Glittering Spears lay dead amongst the bodies of five of the Twelve. One of her champions was wounded, and his blood ran freely. The surviving seven of the assassins closed in on her, and they threw back their hoods. Amongst their number was her Prince, whom she loved. As he revealed himself, she almost collapsed with shock. Her champions threw themselves at the assassins, enraged by his betrayal. In a brief clash two more of the assassins had died, but only one Champion stood unharmed. Another clash saw one of them dead, and it appeared hopeless.
Else where in the palace, things were bad; the West Wing had fallen, and the East was sorely pressed. The central palace proved harder to force, but there was little chance that the hundred Glittering Spears that began that night alive could stave off over three hundred men. With the usual sound judgement, help came from an unexpected place. Men dressed in the red of the Empire dropped from the backs of Spurhawks, into the Palace grounds. As with all secrets, they often became exposed, and Valerian had many means to do so. He led a small force himself, landing on the Palace roof, above the Queen's chambers. He saw knots of men fighting, and saw that his own men needed him, as they struggled to gain a foothold. AT first, some of the Glittering Spears attacked them, but soon saw their purpose, and threw themselves into the fray alongside these red men.
Valerian sent his band in two directions; one to lead the men below, and one squad to assist the Queen. The force he led dropped onto the balconies of the Queen, and saw her surrounded, one man standing between her and her would-be-slayers. Even this man shook and swayed, slick with blood. Valerian charged into the assassins, bowling two over, whilst his other men advanced somewhat more cautiously. Within mere seconds, men died and Valerian placed himself between the Prince and the Queen. The Prince's men desperately fought Valerian's men, but were dying one by one. The Prince-Consort duelled with Valerian, wounding him twice before Valerian eviscerated him. The Prince was a master swordsman, but he lacked Valerian's brutality and fearlessness.
In the palace the fight raged for another two hours. Valeian's men were left with the Queen, but Valerian himself led the forces that retook the palace. As troops arrived from the city, Valerian became surrounded by the Dlathrasians, who openly argued about killing him. They almost did, but the Queen arrived in immaculate statehood and denied her people the killing of the man that could be the end of her Kingdom.
She welcomed Valerian into her lands, and he gave her the best terms he could: her people adored him for saving her life, and he would love her in return, destined to be her husband and her Emperor in one. The Province saw six months of war after that night, as the traitor-elements within the nobility were ruthlessly hunted and slain. Promised soldiers from Ashapur never showed themselves, but Ancillia made the mistake of letters offering aid. No clans were ever found to be culpable in this. Mere months after the traitors were finished, Valerian turned angry eyes on Ancillia. |
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