Turn IX
First Week still, "Camp Fox Den", Towards the End of the Feast
After some debilitation, Ashtings' plan wins out, and preparations begin. The knowledge of your approaching campaign, quickly travels through camp, and you make good use of it. Drawing on those with fire, metal and earth affinities, you heat some of the draconic copper and black bullion into non-lethal weapons; mostly clubs and the like. It isn't much, nor great fun, but the drunkards don't mind it much, the previous battle being easy, and the promise of more such battles, enough to draw them into the job.
At the end of the feast, you have managed to outfit your hallowed with simple black-bullion clubs, while the magic mutt-blood infantry, has been outfitted with copper-studded wooden clubs. These unenchanted side-arms of theirs, won't be much use in battle, nor hinder them much in doing so. For corralling civilians and routing troops though, they ought to do plenty.
As you have spent a good deal of the remaining week melding these weapons, Kxhir has become a bit unruly. The demon even gifts you some dream-visions in your sleep, mostly of the silver lancer hunting prey and slaughtering creatures in battle. Your bound demon, is a hexapod creature, best described as something between reptile and insect. It very much likes to set up ambushes for stronger prey, or simply going wild against lesser opponents, impaling them on its spear-like limbs. The
Eager demon, can normally be placated with slaughter in battle. Having you spill the blood of sacrifices, is far less effective, but also a method to still its bloodlust. Your least favoured method, though possibly also the most efficient, is to spill and sacrifice your own blood to the creature. A draining process, which you tend to avoid if possible.
The ongoing feast has loosened some tongues, giving you opportunity to straighten out some minor rivalries and grudges, with none of them currently being worrisome – though the general rivalry between mutt-bloods and the disdain of their blight-elf betters, being everly present.
Taintblood-Warlocks CovenTerayna is a southmen / stone-elf halfblood, who has served in the band for several decades, and has recently been transferred to logistics due to her advanced age. She comes to you with a particularly interesting offer.
While in the capital of the den'gal union, she informed one of her offspring of your recently acquired land and title. Said son of hers is a taint-blood, born from her and copsehelms' elder brother, who has retired about fifteen years ago. Merekh has served the band in the past, but stroke out on his own after roughly a decade of doing so. By now, he leads a warlock coven of his own. While primarily made up of goblins, his thirty adherents are quite proficient in their craft, at least as far as those without demon-blood go. Her sons' answer got to her by courier while you travelled through Floodside, the nearest city towards your south. Given the festivities, she though it a good time to breach the topic.
Merekhs' Coven, has a hypothetical offer for you – They would be willing to be hired for a fee of 20 souls up-front, and another 10 souls every year thereafter. Said offer is clearly on the high side, and their true intent is surely to have them share in your superior knowledge for a reduction in their hiring price. While not a pressing matter, they would likely want to hear your consideration of their offer within a year or so. Taking them, or similar groups into your service, might also serve to draw in more of their kind, the promise of a regime supportive of their craft, sure to be a selling point for them – and a point of worry for all of those wary of it. Admittedly, this would be the gross of the common populace, so you doubt that you would burn any bridges that weren't smouldering from the outset, but doing so might close some doors that might stay open to you otherwise.
Bastards HomecomingIn a related vein, the half-elf sees it fit to breach yet another topic with you, one that several others have hinted at before; The band is always on the move, and over the years, many of the mutt-bloods leave behind a child or two. In comparison the Blight-Elven children are treated as the blessings that they are, and are periodically sent back home, to be raised communally with their respective families – as is common for your people. The last of these “homecomings”, which are also used to transfer back retirees, and taking on new volunteers from your homestead, has been three years in the past. Doing so every five years or so, is common practice – as is sending back a hefty tribute to your homestead. While autonomous in your dealings for the most part, the band is still considered an agent of sorts of your people. Sending back enough surplus of riches, is also a prerequisite to be allowed to hire on more of your people.
The aforementioned children though, are primarily some sort of half-blood, and and given a decade or three, may become fine additions to the mutt-blood squads. Especially talented taint-blood individuals, might even be able to intermarry back into blight-elven society, though this practice is heavily frowned upon in higher circles, and disdained even by the normal populace.
Many of the mutt-bloods that care for their off-spring, send a part of their income to their children. With you now in possession of a territory of your own, they wonder if you would be willing to give those kids of theirs a permanent home of their own. A long-term investment, that isn't bound to any particularly urgent timescale, but a good deal of the mutt-bloods would like you to keep this point in mind, none the less.
~
All in all, the feast is a great success, having the troops let loose in a safe environment and among their peers, doing wonders for their strained morale and ailing endurance. While the gross of the duels during the festivities stop short of drawing blood, wounds aren't all that uncommon. A few of the men sport blue eyes, nasty cuts and similar after the feast, and one of the hallowed even managed to severely sprain an ankle during a match of naked wrestling – a rather popular past-time that has held over from the high-elven days of your people. The men-only martial discipline is especially beloved by the ladies, for obvious reasons, and winners of the bouts, not rarely finding themselves with companionship for the night.
With the “Mooch Company” having gained another temporary member, you take it upon yourself to inform the de-facto head of their department of this circumstance. On the last morning of the feast, you see it fit to pay him a visit, entering his quarters unannounced.
“Morning, Ashting”, you greet your visibly hung-over cousin. Rubbing her temples in clear indication of a strong headache, your sleepy vice-captain is devoid of all ceremony.
“Mmh? Coil. Whad'ya want?”“Why, just paying a visit to the head-mo-”,
“Doon't call him that!”. Pity. It seems his caretaker isn't in the mood for banter this particular morning. After dodging a pillow thrown at you, you enter into the inner quarters of her tent with a shrug, and under her venomous glare, proceed to make sounds, gestures and grimaces, that no respectable blight-elf, no less someone of your position, should ever be found to make in public. Your nephew, however, seems satisfactory pleased by your antics, with you keeping the bubbling ball of joy on your lap for the better half of a candle. While you
“might” be biased on the topic, the two-year olds aptitudes are clearly on the better side of the spectrum, his mother having chosen her funtime-partners with adequate care. Even then, she opted to keep his father out of the picture, not willing to settle down as young as her mid-fifties. The right choice, as far as you are concerned, and – while, again, you
"might" be biased – she can do better than a middling hallowed warrior in his early seventies. After spending some quality time with the youngest of your family, you are ultimately shoo-ed out of the tent by your slightly unnerved cousin, starting your days duties in a refreshed mood.
~
Mood changed to; Rejuvenated, but not quite rested yet. The troops are also
Expectant, hoping for an easy, bloody battle to come.
The logistics team has hidden your wealth and surplus provisions in several stone-enclosed chambers, scattered around the oasis – lugging all of them around, wouldn't allow you to transport any plunder else-wise. They won't be impossible to find for thoroughly searching intruders, especially those aided by relevant magics, but it is very doubtful that they can make away with the gross of your amassed valuables. The normal precautions, which only seldomly turn out to be needed – though given your current knowledge, there are no straight guarantees at this point.
Second Week, On the Road again
Safe for the grumbling of still hung-over troops on the first day, the journey towards the moon-claws main camp, proceeds rather uneventfully. On the morn of the third day though, Kirmik informs you of some observers, which are subsequently hunted down by your cavalry troops. With two of the three badger-folk in critical condition, the last of their number quickly becomes “pliable” enough to give you useful information.
The barbarian addresses you as demons from the get-go, claiming that “the spirits know”, and following that line, you are able to squeeze out that their shamans already expect your visit. A troublesome development, but not all that unexpected – calling on their ancestor spirits, being a common practice of animist cultures. Such “Clan Magic”, draws on the common spirit and unity of the whole group, and can produce nasty results overall. Some further torturing of your prisoners reveals, that their shamans mostly use strengthening spells, so you might expect a far less lopsided combat this time around.
You are also informed about the badger-mens troop movements. The hunting-team that initially attacked you, has currently drawn their 60 remaining numbers back to the main encampment, and is digging in for the expected attack. By the scouts information, another hunting-team, the one to the north-east, should also have arrived there by tomorrow – you won't arrive before them, even if you start a force-march now. The knights might make it, but they would be too close to the main-camp for comfort, possibly goaded into an ambush on the badger-mens home-turf.
Their eastern camp, won't make it back in time for your assault, though the troops of their western camp, are bound to arrive at about the same time as you. It is quite possible to stall the later warriors, if you send out your hallowed knights to harry them. Provided half of your scouts and two days of time, Ashting is positive that the knights can whittle down their number with guerillia-charges, with minimum risk to her troops. Should you dally for more than one day with your initial assault, it is also possible for the eastern hunting-camps' troops to fall into your back.
With Fort Spearpoint home to a 50-strong cavalry of dire-wolf riders, Vulk offers to hurry a small team of riders there, and ask for their support in delaying the eastern troops. By his estimate, doing so has a rather good chance of succeeding, provided you offer
++ to
+++ worth of valuables. Enlisting some of their infantry for a prolonged siege of the badger-folks main-camp, is a good deal less likely to succeed, and would also double the mentioned price.
Copsehelm, for his part, has acquired a potential understanding with these five demons. You needn't agree to any of them right now, but he offers the choices available for leisure in tactical planning. Calling on less sophisticated demons, like an armoured earth-demon bruiser of sorts to break enemy lines and fortifications, is also always an option.
Mjkhrjav, Putrid Watcher: This demon promises to be able to defile the badger-folks waterhole for sure, and would try to foul the water-reserves scattered throughout their encampment afterwards – though the later results, might vary strongly, depending on his luck and the local resistance.
Quaavrx, Noxious Sporeseeder: This demon promises to send out his debilitating spores, which should severely hamper the defenders efforts for two to three candles worth of time. With his attack being predominantly magic in nature, the shamans might be able to repel his ailment, but at great cost to their magic reserves.
Z'jx, Pestilence Spreader: This demon promises to infect the encampment with a wasting sickness, which would be difficult to repel, but would only show its full worth after two days. While the offer to teach a countering spell to his sickness is included, it would take your warlocks at least three days to cure the whole encampment of the otherwise lethal illness, double that if it should spread from a quarantine to your main-troop.
Feerjnix, Smoke Flurry: This demon promises to send chocking fumes towards the encampments defenders, leaving them poisoned or gasping for breath for at least a whole candle, before his powers will start to wane.
??, Nocturnal Devourer: This demon, whose name can't be traded without cost, promises to “take care” of the badger-folks functionaries, provided you will allow him to take his time with devouring their shamans – souls of those versed in magic, always a special treat for demons. Should you want him to only kill the shamans, and hurry on to the champions afterwards, he would demand 10 souls as his summoning fee, but would be sure to cause far more mayhem.
Should you wish to call forth more than one of these demons, your warlocks would need to rest at least a full day, before being able to call the next one.
You gained +1 Prisoner.
Cedarcoil
Blight-Elven Metal Conjurer
Blood-Pact with Kxhir, Silver Lancer
Demon Mood: Eager
Equipment:
True-Silver staff, easily meld-able
Silken Battle-robe, medium shielding enchantment
Melding Metals, for eased use in battle
Personal Nightmare Mount, calm personality
Spell Repertoire:
Generally melding, purifying, oxidizing and conjuring of metals.
“Bolt Salvo”, “Harpoon Shot”, “Rust Cloud”, “Cold Smelt”
Vice-Captain Ashting: Leads the Hallowed Knights. Talented Cavalrist, bound to a Fire Demon. Your cousin with which you were raised.
Lieutenant Rotburl: Leads the Hallowed Warriors. A seasoned warrior himself, and schooled in strategy. Bound to an earth demon.
Lieutenant Copsehelm: Leads the Warlocks and Logistics Team. Among the most veteran members of the band. Bound to a demon of lightning, contracted with a lesser wind demon.
Lieutenant Leymor: High Elf. Leads the Harry Archers. Capable magic archer, competent wind mage. Acolyte under Copsehelm, bound to a lesser demon of wind.
Lieutenant Vulk: Tundra-Orc / Snow Elf Halfblood. Leads the Magic Infantry. More of a mage than a swordsman, but with noble upbringing. Contraced with a lesser ice demon.
Head-Scout Kirmik: Wood-Elf / Gnoll Halfblood. Leads the Scouts. Talented tracker, gifted with some sort of supernatural instincts or insight. Bound to a lesser shadow demon.
Camp Fox Den (temporary)
~300 Mercenaries:
~150 Blight-Elf Soldiers
~100 Mutt-Blood Soldiers
~25 Mixed Logistics Team
~11 “Moochers”
15 Badger-Folk Prisoners
Mood: General Exhaustion, Slight Irritation at the current situation.
Facilities:
Civil Reservoir: “Partly filled with undrinkable, filthy water”
++ ++
Agricultural Reservoir: “Partly filled with undrinkable, filthy water”
+++ +
Outer Gardens: "Once a lush paradise, these gardens are currently in decline"
Dates: ++Inventory
Changes
Dates + "A few industrious individuals, have started to harvest the sugary treats on their own. Going by the positive reception, you have little doubt that this trend will continue on its own for the foreseeable future."
Provisions
Your supplies in rough numbers.
If coloured, signifies a full months' worth.
Trend is a monthly prediction. Shortages will be brought to attention.
Foodstuff: “Mostly dried goods. Not very palatable, but the usual.”
++ ++, Trend: ---
Water: “A precious resource in this climate.”
+, Trend: -
Nightmare Feed: “Only fit for a starving stomach. And the nightmares, that is”
++, Trend: --
Good Booze: “You splurged a bit, but are sure to get your moneys worth out of it.”
+++, Trend: ?
Other Goods
Valuables: “Much is golden coin from the union, but there also is plenty of plunder from the battlefields.”
+++++++++++++, Trend: -
Raw Black Billon: “The favoured, enchanted blight-elf metal - more spoils from the battlefields.”
~300 Bars, Worth: ~ ++++++, give or take +++, strongly dependent on the buyer
Drake Copper: “Melted from drake-scales.”
~20 Bars, Worth: ++ to +, depending on the market. Might be worth more to dragon-kin.
Military Equipment
“You are currently not in the mood to list the exact equipment of all your troops. Maybe later.”
58 Nightmares: “Not much training is needed for these pack-hunters, their ferocious nature lending itself well to war.”
39 Mares, 19 Stallions, 2 three-year fillies – Worth: ”Eh? Our cuties are not for sale!” (about ~++ each, give or take +. Low demand.)
A tenative map, drawn over an incomplete map acquired from a trader. Your northern borders aren't clearly defined and rather open to discussion, or so you would have heard.Purple Star = Camp Fox Den,
Cyan Circle = Fort Spearpoint,
Maroon Sites = Moon-Claw Camps,
Brown Sites = Plane-Strider Camps,
Green Site = General Thornfolk Area
I'll compile some of those spoilers together before long. Not today though.
Hm~ Guess that answered most of the recent questions, while also advancing the plot a good deal forward. Well, here ya' go.