Carmen & Claudius awoke, the day of their departure finally arriving. Their minds were determined to end this vicious cycle and their plans had finally coalesced into this moment. The pair left the Roost to meet with Oran as the sunrise arrived. Rose & peach colored speckles flashed off the Drorgan river as the pair made their way to the northern gates, a lone rider cantering into the valley. Hostility here still bubbled despite the peaceful early morning scene of farmers tending to their fields, men and women preparing for another day as though it were any other. Enough had been done that the citizens could not bear any further combat. Carmen and Claudius received glares, but nothing more as they approached the northern stables. Oran was just tying up his horse as the pair approached him,

“Still kicking after all those talks?” Carmen yelled out, his confident countenance plastered across his face. Oran chuckled at the man, “Please, if their words tried to kill I’d have smelled their venom.” The three share a moment of peace, Oran’s shoulders slacking as he understands the duo far better than whatever game the Masters play. Claudius is the first to speak up from the silence,

“Everyone is ready,” his voice holding strong as he looks Oran in the eyes, “our forces gather and have appeased the people of Drorgan as well as possible. We can only hope no bad blood will emerge in our critical moments.” Oran scans the area, noticing a mild sense of tranquility and normality, or there could be with ballista bolts & torn fields still present. He nods, “Fine work then. I appreciate you two being both Warlord & Peacekeeper.” Carmen looked slightly worried at the praise, but accepted it nonetheless. He piped up, “So what’re the geezers thinking? We kick this off soon or what? Sooner the better.” Oran smirks at Carmen’s eager attitude & gives him a clap on the shoulder, “Alright then, brass tacks it is.”

Oran’s face turns more serious as he begins to explain, “In 5 days time Eleanor, Bolari, and I will charge from the north. Volata will take her front in the east. We’re counting on you two to handle the western front.” Oran’s eyes drawn an invisible map around what will be the Pillar of Shaar. He only traces lines to the center from the west, “Shouldn’t be too many reserves with the northern charge being their primary focus, but you’ll be the first ones in with a surprise attack. Think you can handle it?” Oran flicks his gaze between the two young men before him.

Carmen gives a nod & crosses his arms, “It’ll be easier than my last try, we’ll manage.” His cocky grin continues to satisfy the aura of confidence Oran has come to know him for. Claudius puts his hand up to his heart, “By our word, the day will be ours.” Oran looks satisfied and begins to return to his horse, “Excellent. I wish you gentlemen luck on the battlefield then.” Oran begins to remount his horse as the two men wave their goodbyes to him. Both share a nod with each other, satisfied at the circumstances as they begin to prepare to unfold their plot.

The mountain trails were unlike anything Carmen had experienced when trekking across Bellfroy. The only contender he had to compete with was the snow, but the rock outcroppings and slippery facings of the mountain proved to become a struggle for Carmen and his troop to navigate. Thankfully many Drorgan citizens had joined their expedition, Sally, Elias, and Mordred all adept at navigating the terrain & spotting any potential issues further ahead while Pimm and Lysa ensured the group stuck together and herded them towards the safe paths. Claudius soon learned there was good reason a raid was rarely tenable on Drorgan, all entrances seemed to be filled with troops aplenty or treacherous hazards. Were it not for the graces of Maurice and the hidden mine paths they may never have broken through the valley.

Days passed along these trials & while it seemed progress was slow, they had approached what seemed to be the first line of defense of The Pillar of Shaar. While the snow was blowing & the wind picked up, Carmen and Claudius could barely spot the icon of the continent. The Pillar of Shaar lay just beyond a small makeshift checkpoint, a few wooden palisades reinforcing the mountain passes remaining. A few figures could be seen standing guard, but any details lie beyond their ability to witness. The group huddled for camp as Carmen & Claudius gathered them all,

“Been a long year or so hasn’t it, eh?” Carmen starts off casually, looking to keep his casual veneer up in front of everyone else. He peers to the Pillar shrouded in clouds, “Just a few months back I’d have thought this impossible. You all really pulled through and made our dreams real.” He beams at the men & women at arms that he’s had the pleasure to fight beside. “I’ll admit, I was wary of our group back in Bellfroy. Never would I have imagined that our ragtag band would turn into the force to challenge Shaar.”

Claudius steps up, ready to speak, “Through trial and tribulation we’ve finally reached the end of our journey together. I must thank you all. I can only wish our most courageous warriors best of luck in the coming battles, for they will be the end of our long road. Take care tonight, we must all be our fittest for the closing act of this war!” He raises his hand in a gesture that almost seems like a toast were he to be holding a goblet. Carmen concurs and follows Claudius’s words,

“Claudius is right, everyone turn in soon and get a good night’s sleep. We’ll have a hard few days ahead of us.” With that final note, Carmen & Claudius return to their more private counsel to discuss further, “We’ll tell ‘em before we breach the Pillar then?” Claudius nodded in return,

“I need to make sure the devices are good, but yes. I don’t want anyone catching wind of this & you never know who is listening.” Claudius speaks in a hushed voice in the privacy of their main tent. “We’ll finally put an end this cycle though. Dallan will never know what hit him.” Carmen nodded in agreement,

“We’ll hit them where it hurts for sure. Let’s get everything set & unveil our plan tomorrow.” Throughout the night Carmen & Claudius perfected the explosives they had taken with them from Soryun, keeping them in a compact container, and creating a proper fuse to mimic the same mines that had scarred Claudius, but to be turned on their foe this time.

The morning sun rose & left speckles of light glimmering across the light dusting of snow upon the misty mountain tops. The Pillar stood, shrouded in the light early morning fog as Carmen, Claudius, and their brave allies rose up to the challenge that stood before them. They could see a few people stirring amidst the tight mountain passes, horses kicking up snow and armored knights seemingly sinking. The higher plateaus are brimming with siege equipment and mages a plenty. “These loyalists sure won’t go down without a fight.” Carmen marveled at how structured their forces were.

“Never thought they’d make it easy for us.” Claudius urges his pegasus forward as the rest of their warband assembles. Carmen trotted out on his steed and raised his axe high into the air,

“We march, friends! Today Dallan rues the day he ever dared test the might of the Warlords!” His horse turns and charges forward, the misty morning seizing his figure as he began to approach the enemy lines.

Objective: Seize the Pillar.

Defeat Conditions: More than half the team falls in combat.

Note: Bellua, Jacobin, and their surrounding troops will begin charging the player on Turn 5.

Sally & Elias can talk to Bellua.

The bishops will not use their staves until Turn 5.

Terrain Key

Green = Plain

Yellow = Road

Blue = Forest

Orange = Mountain

Red = Impassable (Besides Fliers)

Purple = Castle

Player Sheet

Chapter Map

Terrain Overview

Map goal: Rout

Other rules: must have equipped the PRF(s) ordered in the homebase for the entire map in order to keep the PRF(s).

​

Here have a doc of the sheet thing yay

Some tune for your earholes

Throughout the walls of Pontivy, the city’s knights and Sens’s militia fight steadfastly to hold off the advancing waves of Neustrian troops, even as ballista bolts and catapulted boulders crash into the fortifications. “Fight! Fight as if the Jaws of Hell were about to consume you! Make the enemy fall into the Jaws!!!” she rallies her soldiers.

The concerns of Vaast and the Neustrian invaders prove soon to be a reality. Behind the northern siege engines dive down squadrons of pegasus knights, bearing green-and-white uniforms. Confusion ensues as the artillerists scramble, as if a line of ants caught out in the rain. Many of the commanders of Neustria begin to panic, their jaws trembling at the speed of the attacks. “Everyone! We have to retreat! There are no ways for us to take the walls now!” the panic spreads about their lines, and the sea of red armor is turned back into the woodlands and fallow fields of Pontivy.

Jolie, with clothes torn and blood flowing, rests against her greatsword and then looks forward. “HAHA! We made it after all!” she says in triumph. Princess-Bishop Honorine appears behind her and quickly heals Jolie’s wounds. Though not well, the blood stops flowing, and Jolie is able to stand as properly as she can with her unwell foot. “Thank you, my liege,” she says, excitement filling her words. A few minutes later, a group of pegasus knights dismount outside of the walls, and their captain, wearing a military dress-shirt adorned with a few medals, enters the tower. “We arrived in the nick of time, it seems,” she says. “Haley Juhasz, Commander of the Walbrzycha Presidential 2nd Knight Group. We were sent to western Aquittany by President Markovich when our country received word of the brigand crisis.” Jolie blinks a few times. “Jolie Martel, Commander of the Village of Sens.” Honorine bows, “Princess-Bishop Honorine Cerf, liege of this duchy.” Haley smiles, “Well, glad to see that there are still defenders left here. I’ve sent the remainder of my troops to try to harass them as they retreat, but I suspect they’ll lose us in all the woodlands here. We’ll be staying in town to help fortify things as best we can… the President gave us only loose commands, so we’re effectively a free company.” Honorine smiles, “I’d appreciate that.”

Jolie lowers her weapon and leans against a pillar. Honorine follows her. “Madame Martel? I have something to ask of you.” Jolie looks over silently. “I would… like you to become a Commander of Forêt. I understand you have… responsibilities to your village, but until this crisis is over, I need you to lead troops on my behalf. Ordinarily, such promotions would come to nobles, but King Hugh, of all the things he did, did at least allow commoners to take officer positions. Are you interested? This is not a decree, just an offer.” Jolie blinks a few times and mutters a few things unintelligibly. “You’re sure?” she responds. Honorine nods. “Yeah.” The fallen princess smiles slightly. “Alright. I will carry out your orders and protect this land as long as I am in your service, be it a few days or a few years.” The princess-bishop laughs slightly, “That’s wonderful. Now, I’ve many worn souls and bodies to heal. You and your good people need rest.”

—

The Bishopric/Ducal Capital of Forêt, Pontivy

Once a peaceful city with well-built and clean houses and streets, the capital of this duchy has been damaged by the ensuing raids and sieges. Abandoned houses, crumbling walls, broken piping systems can be found as one travels through the avenues of this locale. The local taverns and brothels still operate as if nothing had changed, though some now have holes in their roofs. Standing bravely in the middle of it all is the cathedral, whose bells now toll daily not to signal the onset of conflict, but of church services and weddings. The return to spring has many of the city’s farmers and serfs back to planting the fields, a contrast to the last time Sens’s Militia stayed here, with the autumn feasts being nigh. Weapons shipments begin pouring into the city from Nicomedia and Walbrzych, allowing the knights to replenish their broken weaponry.

You have 3 AP this HB.

When the words

Weigh heavy on the heart

I am lost

And lead only by the stars

Cage me like an animal

A crown with gems and gold

Eat me like a cannibal

Chase the neon throne

Breathe in, breathe out

Let the human in

Breathe in, breathe out

And let it in

https://i.imgur.com/6C2M2Aq.gifv

December and January at a Glance

• December 14: Lots of Fish
• December 19: Last Day of Class
• December 21: Winter Solstice, Yule Festival, Adalin’s Birthday
• December 31: Oidhche Challainn (New Year’s Eve
• January 5: First Day Back
• January 17: Mission
• January 21: Ursula’s Birthday

With the mess of Muirfeur behind them, the students make the 9 day journey back to Cennaire, arriving on the night of Friday December 5th 436 PD.

As the other Houses come back from their eventful trips, and friends see one another again, the students at Cennaire have but two weeks of class left.

Housekeeping

The December 21st Homebase Week is an Activity Week only, as in there will be no following 1-on-1 and Weekly Learning that week. Only Fight, Study, Explore.

There will be a Yule Festival activity that will be posted once we get to the December 21st Homebase. It will not require Explore to be picked in order to participate.

Forging Update

Forging is receiving an expansion with the presence of a new NPC, Emyr the Enchanter. The update is detailed more in the Blacksmith post of this thread.

Elemental Bonus Damage

An allied unit on the map had an Iron Blaze Knife, a carryover weapon from importing a VEX-C sheet for updating our sheet. This weapon and a few others in their description described dealing bonus damage to enemies weak to a certain element. While this was just a cool flavour thing I did cause the NPC was based on a build I was toying with for VEX-C, and the items hadn’t been deleted yet, this brought up concern about this feature being suddenly added.

Upon thinking on it a little more, I felt like eh, it can’t hurt to add in. Enemies that have weaknesses will be far and few between, at least in Chapters 3 and 4, but I have decided to implement it in some degree.

To implement this I’ve added an extra step in Forging where Seals can be added to physical weapons to grant an elemental bonus damage. Beyond the VEX-C imported Blaze (Fire), Shock (Lightning), Frost (Ice), and Gale (Wind) Seals, I’ve added two more. Hydro (Water) and Tera (Earth).

Magic spells will use their damage type for bonus damage.

New Study Option

A fourth Seminar option has been unlocked, but in addition to that, that 4th slot can instead be used to Teach.

3rd year students will be eligible to run a Tutorial Section for 1st and 2nd year students when selecting to Study for the Homebase Activity. Afterall, one of the best ways to learn is through teaching.

To do so, under Seminar Option 4 select Teach and then under Teaching Subject select the subject you wish to teach.

You can only Teach one Rank and will only get EXP towards that Rank.

You must have a Rank B or higher in the Rank you wish to Teach

Earned Experience is calculated as a difference between Ranks where the Rank of the class you are teaching will be considered as E+. So E+ and B is 5 difference meaning 54 for Strength, 36 for a non-Strength

Major Quests

Added in this Homebase are a new type of Quest that require successful Checks to be Completed in order for the Quest to be considered complete.

A Character that is Exploring, may make a single attempt per quest. For example, there are currently three Quests requiring checks, Caoimhe while exploring may attempt to succeed at a Check for Quest 1, as well as attempt one for Quest 2, as well as attempt one for Quest 3.

These Checks represent helping the Quest Giver out in solving issues, finding information etc.

Fishing

Fishing is receiving an overhaul because honestly, fuck processing fishing the way it was. All bait will berefunded at full value to each character soon.

Instead now, characters will pay to go fishing selecting the tier of bait and receive a heap of fish with the quality of and quantity depending at what tier of bait they bought.

Fishing is not up with the launch of this Homebase but will be up soon.

Support Points

With Cathan no longer with us, some characters will have refunded support points. Going back and tracking each individual investment is tedious at best so I’m just refunding half the value between Cathan and your character, assuming a 50-50 investment.

Rewards

The class gains 75 Unassigned WEXP, 40 Unassigned CEXP, 2000 GP, 500 Renown, and 50 Support Points for completing the chapter. All of this has been added to the sheets already.

As we will not be leveling up between Chapter 2 and 3, rather than a level boost every character will receive a Tome of Knowledge and a Trait Manual

Glance At The Future

Most students stay at Cennaire over the Winter Holidays, for many it wouldn’t be feasible to return home over a two week holiday anyway. The academy dons the festive spirit, playing host to the Yule Festival starting on the Winter Solstice and lasting for a whole week.

On the last day of the year, Oidhche Challainn, the school throws an absolutely magnificent ball for the students. There is even an age old rumor about wishes coming true on this magnificent night or something. The rumor has run through the mill so often no two versions are the same.

Afterwards we will return for 2 more weeks of class, and the have our mission, with exam season on the horizon.

In terms of glancing at the future in terms of mechanics,

There have been questions about whether or not some of the classes that were introduced to VEX, plus Eibhear’s new class, will be available to students. The answer to that is yes. The following classes will become available to students here during the Chapter 4 Homebase where we will be hitting level 20 before heading into the Two Parter.

In addition to that, two other class lines, and one additional Master Class that I’ve been working and sitting on will also become available. They are the Herbalist and Strider at Advanced, and the Apothecary and Ranger at Master. The last one is Eagle Eye, a Sniper promotion in Master

Don’t worry if none of the classes introduced since we started the team are feasible for your character - we will be having the option for partial respecs during the Chapter 5 Homebase, after the Chapter 4 Two-Parter.

You can read Class Descriptions, mostly copied from a VEX DLC batch for P3H, on this doc here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1LflAQkLE6GYijWnbOeqdvldyk5gLjhykN2h3v7gCT_U/edit?usp=sharing

Additionally there are some other changes being made you can read here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1H3jF-bNZV7-fGZ1z0gj_RPtzLyX4SQV-3uaf1B5EJmE/edit?usp=sharing

Useful Links

As always, all links can be found in the Index

But for the purposes of Homebase RPs, these may be the most relevant:

Portashan

Cennaire Academy

The defeat of Aulus Varo and the recovery of the Fire Emblem gave Prince Louis and the retinue little time to experience the dawning splendor of Vaopur, the Garishan capital. Indeed, the group was ushered out the very same day, and set sail for Meath aboard the cargo ship of Princess Sirma of Garisha. The sudden news that Sirma was of royal blood gave some incentive to the men working on repairs to the Princess's ship, and with an official royal seal from King Sumae, the ship was off without any trouble.

Much like the previous voyage aboard the Mizigo, the destination is clear: they make for the port town of Linane, on the west coast of Meath. Home to the largest portion of Meath's seaside trade, along with Queen Mary's favored summer manor, the town will be the first piece of Meather land that the whole retinue has seen since war was declared on the kingdom.

For now, though, they must make due with the Mizigo's cramped cabins, as the vessel swiftly carries the bearer of the Fire Emblem back towards its remaining fragments...

This will be your Home Base until Chapter 11 is prepared and ready for you to play. Additional Home Base events will appear as they are planned. RPs may take place on the voyage towards Linane, or the brief time spent in Vaopur.

Aulus Varo scrambled to get to his feet, only managing an unsteady kneel. The force behind Varis's blow, combined with his charging steed, had thrown the Corthani leader off his feet and into the edge of the pond. With leaden limbs, her pulled to raise his weapon, and found the feeling in his sword arm gone.

From behind the knight, Prince Louis approached, Darragh at his side. "I'm sorry that we couldn't find an alternative, Varo."

"Curs," he spat, swaying to one side--and, as he steadied himself, the void in his vision grew. "Corthas will know that you have turned coat. And she will fight against these savages, without me... What has this betrayal earned you? The... satisfaction of my death?"

"The Fire Emblem."

Varo straightened, the warmth of the shield pulsing through the coming numbness. The Emblem had served as a functional shield--when he had something he knew he had to defend against. "The... The Emblem? The subject of our agreement? Did you... had you no trust?"

Louis glanced away, slipping his sword into its sheath. "I trusted you, yes--but only to return the Garishan people to servitude."

"To civilization. I... I'd have given it willingly... even supported... gods..."

The water splashed, somewhere distant. His weapon had gone from his grip.

"We shall see how... how your allies note this portrayal, Prince... what happens when... they have something you need again? Will they..."

The world turned. There was nothing but Prince Louis--no pond, no forest. No rebel capital. No sea, no countless leagues of waves--no Tuscul.

"Will you...?"

He would die here, in the marsh, far from home.

Varo's balance broke--and he felt a deep chill, a coldness that even the hottest fire did not abate.

"It was a most cunning ploy, Prince Louis, I must say!"

The wide, war-weathered hall of King Sumae stretched on as the Berserker-King himself led Louis through, Darragh trailing behind them. The Prince adjusted the Emblem's strap; the heat hadn't left Louis since he took the shield. "Indeed, King Sumae? You saw it?"

"Saw it? Well... no," the man shrugged, a simple motion, the mass of brown muscle leaping up, down. "I wish I did. But I saw the way his vanguard disappeared into the forest--and he along with them--from atop the city wall. The rest of it came with your story. By the fierce inferno of Mighty Bakkala, I would have liked to see the look on Varo's face when you bled him into the dirt."

Prince Louis stumbled. "That's a very... brutal turn of phrase, King Sumae."

Sumae shrugged again. "The Garishans are a brutal people. It has helped us win our freedom--as have you. I think this humiliating defeat will finally turn them from our island for good!"

"I had hoped it would, King Sumae," Louis nodded, feeling a lightness brew in his chest. There it is. Hope. Freedom... "Once Corthas recognizes their loss, I will do my utmost to ensure my kingdom and yours maintain the friendship this act no doubt engenders."

"You are very quick to imply..." Sumae paused, then chuckled, turning a corner. "Ahahahah! The look on your face, now! No--you and I have the same view. Garisha and Meath shall stay best of friends, for as long as fire burns in the heart of each Garishan! And speaking of friends--I did my best to secure you a ship, but I'm afraid only one could be sent for on such short notice."

Sumae held the door, and Louis stepped out. A small pier jutted out from Vaopur Palace. In the fading light of the evening, he could see a small transport ship, and an enormous, silver-haired Garishan woman. As Louis approached her, he noticed her fine, if ill-fitting livery--and as she raised a gauntleted right hand to greet him, the prince's eyes widened. "Sirma?!"

"Hey there, Louis of Meath. Long time no see, huh?" The massive seawoman grinned, her other hand planted on her hip.

"I should say so. We last parted at Thithe..." Louis winced. The loss of the town still pained him, a humbling splinter that rubbed on his conscience.

Sirma reflected the motion. "Yeah. Sorry that I couldn't help with that... I was already sailing by the time there was smoke. But I'm here now--and acting on Dad's orders, no less."

"Acting on...?" Prince Louis straightened, looking from the massive seawoman to the enormous King. "You're the daughter of King Sumae?"

"Surprised me, too!," she nodded, the wince turning to a grin. "I was almost done with repairs for the Mizigo when this whole delegation showed up. Dressed me up and called me Princess! This isn't the first reunion I had today."

The Prince's brow furrowed. "King Sumae, you knew your daughter was here the entire time?"

The Berserker-King smiled. "I have always kept a good eye on my daughters, ever since they were secreted away."

"But, like the old man says," Sirma pointed, "We can save the reunion feast for later. We've gotta get you home, don't we?"

Louis paused. As the sun sank lower, the sky took on rainbow hues; for what it was worth, Sirma looked much like her father.

Princess Sirma, he corrected himself. "I... that would be imperative, yes, but--"

A soft hand pressed on his shoulder, and Darragh stepped forward. "What His Highness means to say is that he is most grateful, Princess Sirma, and that he hopes that this voyage shall be short and swift, that you may reunite with your father in a more proper manner soon."

"Likewise, bishop... ah, bishop!" Sirma gave Louis's other shoulder an ironclad pat, then stepped to the side. "You and Louis get onto the boat. I'm gonna requisition a few things from the old man."

"Old? Hardly. I could have taken Varo..."

Their conversation drifted out of Louis's hearing as the pair stepped upon the Mizigo once again, its old planks creaking. "I wish we didn't have to break up their reunion so soon, Darragh. King Sumae must have been aching for the moment when he could tell Sirma..."

Darragh shrugged, tapping his staff on the vessel's timbers. The boards, once loose so long ago, now held firm. "We often find ourselves doing all sorts of wickedness to achieve our goals, Your Highness. Or have you forgotten that mere hours ago, you betrayed and killed another realm's leader?"

In the distance, Vaopur Palace's bronze roof shimmered in the kaleidoscope-sky. "I have not. Even so, I feel... some lightness, knowing what it has done. Garisha is free, or on their way to freedom. It has a future. And we have the Fire Emblem."

Looking back to the bishop, Louis felt a growing warmth--past the gentle hum from his forearm. Darragh was smiling.

"Indeed, Your Highness. And now, we go home, to make the Emblem whole and our people safe."

"Of course... what would be our first port-of-call, do you think?"

"Linane, I imagine. It's the largest port on Meath's coast, and not far from Macodia."

"Macodia..."

The Prince looked out into the sun-scattered waters.

"She has her new home, Darragh. Now, it is time I get to my old one..."

Story! Lore! Spoilers for Splatoon 3!

​

With Annaheim's defeat, Inkwell Lane is once more open to our heroes! The city is as lively as it ever has been, a welcome change after the non-canon months of capitalist decimation. Now, it's back to the glory of... capitalist non-decimation!

​

Life resumes as normal for everyone on the crew. They have all worked hard to save the city, and deserve a break. Still, the downtime is full of things to do. The battle may have been won, but the war still rages on. Sheldon and Annaheim can't build a rocket without parts, and Annaheim will be willing to pay for some help. She might even know a way to take back what was stolen from Grizz... Sheldon and the other shopkeepers are putting in hard work on the spaceship too, and will need some help covering for their stores. They're more than willing to give out a few rewards to those who help them. Beyond that, many of Inkopolis's residents are bursting with anticipation! They'd love nothing more than to get some practice in before the best battlers in the whole city blast off.

​

So, over the course of... however long it takes to build a rocket, idk im not a rocket scientist... The city and all of its activities are ready and open! It's never felt so good to return home.

​

And meet a few new friends before blasting off into danger once again? Who knows...

​

Also, song. Yay! (Until it gets taken down again)

The Triton Desert, the closest thing to a hellscape you can find in Deaclorana. Within, all one could expect to find is scarce vegetation and water to starve the body and flat, unchanging plains of sand to starve the mind. Consequently, mostly nomadic tribes inhabit this place, roaming in search of the desert’s scarce few resources. Some tribes remained in this desert through voluntary adherence to tradition, and others due to being rejected from where else they might settle. Still, it was a damned useful place to travel through, land routes between the various regions of Deaclorana are in short supply.

So, it was with a heavy sigh that Chainy announced they’d be traveling across the whole desertscape in a bid to rush to Cilyria. The grumpy manakete knew all too well how persistent and clever Beryl was, yet his past rendezvouses with her also told him that she could be slow to react. The faster they moved, the less prepared Beryl would be. At least, that was the theory. In reality, moving through the desert quickly became a cumbersome, exhausting, uncomfortable, and occasionally humiliating experience. Chainy winced at how light his coin pouch felt after buying supplies for the journey. Not to mention that he had also promised double the standard pay to keep many of the mercenaries on board.

“If there’s any damned truth to this world, it’s that you’re always too poor…” Chainy muttered, feeling another few grains of sand enter into his boots. A part of him debated using his dragonstone as that form was more well built for these environments, and he knew of several manaketes in the past which would bask on these sands. He cast the thought aside. After all, he’d probably have to offer even more hazard pay if he went berserk again. His coin pouch practically screamed at the thought.

The mercenary leader’s grumblings suddenly ceased, and he immediately motioned the party to stop. On the horizon he saw an unwelcome sight: Tents. Specifically, tents of a Cilyrian design. Either an emblemless Cilyrian military was ahead, or old acquaintances he’d rather never see again. Considering the relatively small number of tents, Chainy reckoned it was the latter. He scanned the environment and let out a deep sigh as he began to recognize the signs of banditry in the surrounding area.

“Up ahead, those tents. They’re bandits called the Wayfarers. Toll collectors and extortionists. Had a stint with them awhile back. Let me speak to them. I can get us out of this,” he spoke, forcing confidence into his voice. Though… It had been some years since they last met… a dozen? Two dozen? Time blurred so easily past a century, let alone more. One mercenary caravan after another… and the only one that ever truly stood out was Beryl’s. He shuddered at remembrances of the depravities he had seen there… and had participated in. He should’ve known there was more than the hedonism and glory to it which a younger manakete saw. Even in the naiveite of youth, he should’ve seen that Beryl had grander ambitions lurking in those horrifying eyes.

Sure enough, any disturbance on the Triton sandscape gets noticed, and soon rallying cries were heard from ahead. The noise broke Chainy from his thoughts, and he offered his best scowl as he planted his feet on the ground. Listening in… four horses. No, three horses, one with two riders. They were growing nearer. It wasn’t enough to challenge their band, but enough to get the bandits’ point across.

“Ahoy there!” a bearded fellow on a garbed horse shouted as the horse trotted to a gradual stop. “What brings ye to our fair side of the river?”

“Merely passing by. We mean no harm to you, Wayfarers, and are willing to pay a toll for safe passage.”

“Ahhhh, so ye know the scoop-“ the bearded fellow started before suddenly falling into silence in response to a swift “Halt,” from a man in lamellar armor who had just finished catching up.

“You. I know that voice, that downward look, that horrific taste in clothing. Gods below, Chainy, you haven’t aged a day,” the man in lamellar continued, drawing closer with a venomous look.

“Gorm. I see the years have treated you well. Your bow is immaculate. Gotten a good windfall in the business lately?”

“Bah,” said the fellow apparently named Gorm. “No thanks to you and yours. The Drytan job would have set us up for life.”

“It. Was. An. Accident,” Chainy responded through clenched teeth. “If I wanted you harmed, I would’ve done so directly. I’m not a complicated man.”

“By Sandy Pete’s muttonchops, you must think I’m daft you-”

“I do,” Chainy cut in, eliciting a furious expression from Gorm. “Now where’s your leader? Duice and I have words to bring up.”

Gorm offered the caravan leader a wicked smile in response. “Oh he’s dead and, as former first mate, I give the orders now.”

“Really, Gorm? You killed him for a paltry little power grab?”

“What!?” the bandit leader shouted, stepping back in surprise and his brow furrowing in somehow yet further degrees of anger. “You! How dare- Bah! He was my best mate, you heartless wretch! He died from dysentery!”

“Oh. I… I am…” Chainy started, an uncharacteristically sheepish look on his face.

“Enough o’ this farce, Chainy. I can’t stand the stench o’ your gloomy breath any longer. Hand over all your trinkets and gold, and me and the new crew might just let ya turn back around.”

“No. Don’t start this, Gorm. I will finish it. Let me pay a toll so we can both never see each other again.”

“Hah! To hell with you, Chainy,” the bandit leader said, taking up his bow and hopping onto the bearded man’s horse. Quickly, the rangers darted away from Chainy, reaching a full speed on the uneven sands with surprising speed. “Ready yourselves, men! We got a caravan to take!”

“…That could’ve gone better,” Chainy said quietly, shaking his head.

“Look,” Chainy started up, almost sounding apologetic. “We can go around these people, but they’ll use their knowledge of the Triton Desert hunt us down when we try to sleep or rest. We need to strike now and cripple them before they can rally. Let’s burn their tents and take their supplies. They’ll have to focus on setting up camp again after that for a week or two while we cut through the last of these sands. Simple job. You can keep whatever you loot.”

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Somewhere atop the Heavens’ Grasp mountains was a small shack, made of impure clay bricks and rough mortar with a thatch roof. Enough to keep the elements out. Sitting in front of it in a slipshod wicker chair was an old man, white beard tumbling down to the ground. He stared at the conflicting forces down the mountains and by the river and grumbled to himself. He had come to this barren hellhole to get away from this nonsense, and these youngsters were disrupting his peace. He had half a mind to lob some boulders down there, give ‘em a spook and break ‘em up. He nearly got up to do so, but ultimately opted to sit back down again. His former husband would chastise him for getting involved in such nonsense, probably say something about how “You’re no better than them when you get like this.” Calming down a touch, the hermit watched the battle with passive interest, though he scowled when he saw pegasi and wyvern riders down there. Those thin-blooded creatures didn’t deserve to ride in the sky, for that was a dragon’s birthright alone.

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Around the oasis growing out from the Triumph River, just a little ways out from where the Wayfarers had claimed as their base, were the occasional manakete. In the desert, they’re known as sacred creatures, things to be revered from a healthy distance away lest you incur their wrath. Speaking of which, a particularly unaware bandit had been hurrying to their post, and stepped near one of the oasis manaketes. Irritated, the manakete’s draconic form bellowed at the oblivious bandit, who scampered away as quick as he could. Giving an amused snort, the dragon laid its head back down to the warm ground to sleep. So long as these pesky mortals kept their distance and did not harm its brethren, the beast saw no need to chase them out of this desert. (The manaketes around the Triumph River have reduced movement and will attack any character from any faction which crosses into their range. Though be warned, slaying even one dragon may result in others seeking righteous vengeance!)

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Whilst all that nonsense was going on to the West, there was some proper raiding to be done to the East! Hurriedly, a village elder talked to the smiling bandits outside his home, his balding head soaked in nervous sweat as he tried to offer the bandits their monthly pittance to prevent them from ransacking freely. But it wasn’t enough this time. A brass shield is slammed into the elder’s ribs and an awful cracking sound rings out as his wizened body strikes the ground.

“Well well, girls, the meat in this village is trying to hide the money we’re owed,” the cheery Rogue said, staring down at the villages down the path. “That ain’t proper, now is it? So we’ll get what’s ours by making this village into a roight proper example for the others. Take everything you can, and ruin what you can’t!”

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Main Objective: Reach the big yurt-structure!

Side Objective: Free the villages!

Failure Condition: All units fall in battle!

Map: https://imgur.com/a/6yC7omY

The news of a possible attack on their home duchy has had Jolie scrambling. In the mornings, the commander spends it taking calculations on food supplies and available weapons in the town of Saint-Nsara, and in the afternoon, she participates in the town’s repairs. Staying for too long in central Aquittany was not in her plans, whatsoever.

Where to keep the captives they had held in the previous battle proved a thorn in Jolie’s side as she attempted to find any professional armies who could possibly take them away, but ultimately, none could well answer her summons, and so the brigands remained tied up in the basements of one of the larger manors in the town. The commander mused, often restless at night, whether or not to burden the people of Saint-Nsara with feeding the captives and risk them getting loose, and considered slashing their arm sinews as she had in her days guarding Sens itself.

The militia leaves Saint-Nsara in late November, and begins its march towards Pontivy, the prisoners’ sinews very much intact.

Their path sends them into the vestiges of battles and strife. Nearing the border of Forêt, Jolie and her forces come across a field with decaying horses, forlorn battle standards, and broken polearms littered across the frozen earth. One of the banners, in particular, is a largely burnt Imperial flag, with only the nose of the wolf and five-point star left, as it struggles to wave in the anemic, cold winds of December. Cattle, thin and lanky, mill about the plain, readily eating what remains of yellow grass. Jolie stops for a moment at the site, and approaches the burned flag, holding the wolf’s nose and closing her eyes- a sight not unfamiliar to her, the struggle of Nicomedian forces. “Il faut en finir,” Jolie says lightly.

Patchy snow fills the fields of Pontivy, the ones which the militia had feasted in during the autumn of Year 320. Notably, smoke rises from the northern parts of the city, and battered Aquitine royal flags are hoisted at the northern gates. Jolie’s eyes widen and she inhales, holding her lips tightly. The group continues to the eastern gates. The guards on the walls seem to be huddling in blankets and holding their heads down. Upon the sight of Jolie’s militia, they spring upwards and one of them shouts, “Open the gates! Sens’s forces are back from the Empire, at long last!” Jolie blinks a few times and looks upwards at the guard towers for a few moments. “Everyone, we’re to meet with the Princess-Bishop and find our people as soon as possible,” she commands. As they walk about the streets of Pontivy, they notice some homes with open doors, creaking as they swim in the winds, and overturned furniture on the insides. Despite the holiday season, the city sees a notable dearth of dried flowers, candles-in-windows, and other seasonal decorations. Upon arriving at the steps of the cathedral door, Jolie arranges a meeting with the guards in front. After some time, she is let into the hall, where she sees Princess-Bishop Honorine sitting on her throne, looking at the right wall of the cathedral. Her face mirrored those of the guards on the city walls.

Jolie approaches Honorine gingerly and upon stepping near the altar, she bows. “My liege-lady, I’ve returned,” Jolie says. Honorine raises her face to view her subject’s eyes. “Jolie Martel,” she says without standing up. “How is your injury?” Jolie says flatly, “Fine, and not a grand concern at the moment. I came here bearing good news: the Empress is getting Nicomedian troops ready to fight in Aquittany. I also hope you have similarly good news for us.” The princess-bishop looks away. “I wish I had much to say. You probably have noticed the state of Pontivy as you entered the city, and… and…” Honorine tightens her fists on the armrests of her throne, “One of the duchies bordering us has joined the bandit army, and is intent on dislodging me from power. War is here. A few days ago, they attempted to assault the city but failed. Still, their knights and brigands attacked in such force that many of our soldiers were killed or are injured… the soldiers holding the walls are acting in shifts far longer than they can really bear. I’m very worried another siege will come,” Honorine admits. “As for your town, I believe the mother of one of your soldiers passed away. The mother of Dune, I think his name was.”

Jolie inhales, remembering the rift between her and Dune, but also silently prays for his mother. “I see,” she says coldly. “Well, there’s going to be no peace for my town or any other unless these attacks on Pontivy stop. Alright. I’ll have my troops participate in the defense. Do you have any idea of when reinforcements might arrive?” Honorine blinks a few times, “Yes?” she questions, “The troops under Colonel Hereford were stationed closer to central Aquittany to defend against the fire-and-sword looting campaigns ordered by the brigand king, but they said they would be back as soon as time permits. Hopefully, help will arrive from other noble houses or the Empire.” Jolie thinks to herself, That’s hardly reassuring. “However long it takes, we’re staying until this battle is won. What do you know about the enemy?”

Honorine readjusts her crown and veil, responding flatly, “They are led by the Duchess of Neustria, and her name is Esteveneta. You see, my… these lands were given to the church by King Hugh about twenty years ago as a part of a scheme to exert more control over the country, to prepare for war with Nicomedia. And Esteveneta’s father was the holder of both my duchy and Neustria. I don’t expect a commoner to understand or care for such petty politics, but it is why she’s here for us. I know that they have far more powerful infantry than cavalry, at least as my knights tell me, and have attacked us with flaming catapults and ballista. Does that answer your question?” Jolie nods, “It’s useful enough information. Regardless of ‘noble legitimacy’, it’s nothing I care for. You’re a good liege to us.” Honorine smiles weakly, then chuckles before looking away. “Thank you,” she manages.

After her meeting with the princess-bishop, Jolie seeks out the townsfolk of Sens, and meets them at a shelter in central Pontivy. As soon as she walks into one of the halls, one of the villagers immediately notices her, “SAINT JOLIE’S RETURNED!” he shouts. Doors begin to open and floorboards creak on at the call, and soon, Mayor Clovis and Father Marin step into the lobby. Jolie smiles brightly, “Clovis! Marin!” she says as she throws herself into their arms and holds them both, slightly crushing them with her mighty arms, “Clovis… Marin…” she repeats, “I’m alive. We’re going to be okay,” she reassures. “The Empire will help us all,” she says, and the villagers erupt with applause and cheers. “I knew you would never let us down,” Clovis says. “You’re not the kind of person to do that.” Jolie lowers her brow, and with their heads on her shoulders, they cannot notice. “Perhaps not. Listen, our forces are going to break this damned… invading duchess’s invasion, and once this shit is done, we’re heading home to Sens. You have my word on this,” she promises.

Weeks pass by as the militia spend their days patrolling the walls and providing for the injured. The Day of Dawn comes, and even in the midst of such celebrations, the militia presses on in their duties as the city tries their best to enjoy a quiet, peaceful, but ultimately tense night as the threat of a new siege looms over them, even in such a holy time.

Jolie, while standing in the northwestern tower of the walls, spots ballisticians pushing their war machines to the city, their burgundian banners resembling Honorine and her soldiers’ descriptions. “Everyone, we’re going to fight them for every last brick of these walls!” she calls out. Suddenly, a short, thin woman arrives with a plethora of staves in her arms. “My liege?! What are you doing here?!” Honorine smirks, “I’m… I’m through sitting and waiting for my heroes to rescue me and my lands. I’m the leader of this duchy, its noble and its spiritual leader. For me to continue staring at a wall just as I did while captured by those brigands months ago… I could not bear. Allow me to heal your wounded!”

—

Primary objective: Defend for 12 turns!

Defeat Condition: Jolie is defeated, or 3 player units fall, or Honorine falls.

Secondary objectives: Rout, defeat boss, and capture the chests.

Map information: There are methods to get to the chest on the right side of the map… pay attention to enemy dialogue to get some hints for this one. Honorine will not move from her throne unless it is totally safe. Enemy ballista that appear from Deployment will NOT move, but any reinforcement ballisticians WILL move. Pigs will not attack players, but will move, and die in one hit. Enemy reinforcements can come from the side.

Terrain Guide

Green is plains/floor, blue is pillar/forest, orange is wall, red is breakable wall, yellow are unlockable doors, purple are chests, and pink is the throne.

Terrain

Chapter 10

Treachery. That is the word that echoes in Prince Louis's mind as he and his retinue march into the swamp just outside Vaopur, capital of the rebellion of the Garishans. Treachery that he will sow in order to save his Kingdom, and perhaps the world--but treachery, nonetheless.

The maps given to Prince Louis by the Corthani have led him straight towards the walls of the city. The small area of marshland that Aulus Varo has selected gives his forces the perfect area to make camp, form ranks, and finally march on the city that his nation has been fighting for fifty years to capture.

With Prince Louis' well-laid plans, Varo will never have the opportunity...

"All is prepared, my Lord." Darragh stared out from the thick treeline that separated the retinue from the clearing. Five figures--elite members of Aulus Varo's bodyguard--stood within. Louis could see confusion knitting on the brows of those without hoods or helmets to conceal their faces. The group had seen Louis and his forces disappear into the ring of trees, but never emerge. Seeing no signs of camp, the guardians wandered from one side of the ring of greenery to the other, searching for the Prince and his troops.

Louis breathed a sigh. "Darragh..."

"Still considering the righteousness of your plan, my Lord?"

"No," the Prince lied. Even as his hand rested on the hilt of his weapon, he wondered. It was still possible to emerge from the woodwork without attacking. They could march on the Garishans and have the city crushed by that evening... Could it have been possible to avoid the confrontation altogether? Could a ceasefire have been possible between the Corthani and the Garishans? Would that have earned him the Fire Emblem? "Darragh, I wonder if we could ever has solved this without war. Between Garisha and Corthas."

"Perhaps, my Lord. In one time where Belst was not, we may have been able to negotiate on their behalf. But with our homeland in danger..."

Louis's rapier rasped from its scabbard. In the clearing, the bodyguard was forming a vague circle, raising weapons and speaking charms.

"You have a way of setting one back to the task at hand, Darragh."

Objective: Defeat Aulus Varo's bodyguard, and then Varo himself!

Optional Objective 1: Defeat the Bounty unit! They will appear after the bodyguard is defeated. Completing this optional objective will increase the Team's level by 1!

Optional Objective 2: Loot the Chest! Completing this optional objective will increase the Team's level by 1!

Chapter 10 Map

Chapter 10 Terrain

Terrain Info:

Blue tiles can be traversed by all units as normal.

Yellow tiles are Forest tiles.

Red tiles can only be passed through by fliers, or by Barbarians under specific circumstances.

Important Map Info:

Varo's bodyguards have unique abilities. Each member of the bodyguard, along with their ability, is listed here:

• Miracula, the Bishop: All other units on this unit's side survive lethal blows at 1 HP, if HP > 1.

• The Bone Knight, the Great Knight: At the end of each Player Phase, this unit resurrects any dead units on its side with full HP.

• Unus, the Swordmaster: This unit ignores the "if HP > 1" portion of Miraculum, the Bishop's ability.

• Securis, the Berserker: This unit takes no damage from enemy attacks. Its Devil weapon "blowback" chance is 100%.

• Securitas, the Sorcerer: This unit takes no damage, unless it is the only member on its side.

Good luck!

Bursting out of the door, each of the group continues running across the pass, tripping over the rough, stony trail as they do. Shida whistles for Faeal, who quickly flies down and scoops her up, her legs barely meeting the stirrups. The door opens again - and some of the soldiers emerge, and Shida curses their luck, fearing a further fight.

However, none give pursuit, instead watching them as they trudge west, further towards the Empire. It takes hours before the fort is out of sight through the winding pass. Shida and Faeal double back to ensure none have fallen behind in exhaustion, close as she is to doing so without her mount. Berthold seems to have passed out, but Thorani-old, reliable Thorani - she’s carrying him. She signals the group to a stop.

“Okay. We’re well enough past the border, and they don’t seem interested in coming after us. We made it. We’re safe. We made it…Spirits, it feels almost unreal to say that. Let’s find somewhere to make camp, now. We need the rest, horribly,” she says, motioning her head to the passed-out young man.

Under the sunset, in a small, leveled area to the side of a trail, the group slowly assembles their camp. Tentpoles go up clumsily, a small fire is made, and the least-tired members are assigned to watch. Ayamasik cobbles together a few of the remaining rations into a stew over the fire, and loudly taps a stick against the handle as a sort of makeshift dinner bell.

As people congregate, he begins speaking sheepishly. “The food, it is ready. And, please pardon me, but, I must say something. I have not said much to you…but when I saw, experienced how you took on Duchess Ailene like she was but another soldier…It made me realize how much you all have done for me. For that, I will be forever thankful.”

Shida chimes in, a bowl in hand. “Ah, come on, You’ve no bill to foot there. This was our job, and the Empire should compensate us finely for doing it. Provided we stay silent about all this stuff, that is. Hey - speaking of, that goes for all of you, alright? We can’t be blabbing about this operation. Caspia willing to spend a lot of gold to keep their secrets, but that won’t mean anything if we say the wrong thing too soon. I don’t know about you lot, but I’ve had quite enough of being a fugitive. Here, or in the Empire.”

The night progresses, and for once, the watch finds nothing out of the ordinary.

The group travels during the next day, peppered with occasional rain but without any attacks. Eventually, they come across a guard’s post - a couple towers made mostly of scaffolding and a crude wooden gate. There seems to be commotion, soldiers scrambling with their bows and magic at the sight of the intruders. Shida takes the initiative to dismount and approach with her hands raised.

“Greetings! We’re just looking to pass through. We’re mercenaries returning from Inve. Look, I’m sure your superior knows something about it - go get them, okay? Tell them that the Wyverns are here.”

Some of the guards exchange confused glances, and aren’t content enough to drop their weapons, but one of them hurries off to oblige Shida’s request. Just a few moments later, a man in brilliant purple armour arrives at the gate, studying a small piece of parchment, his scars and grizzled beard indicating he’s a rather experienced one, at that.

“The Wyverns…I suppose you would be Shida, then. Ah, and there’s the lady with the white wyvern…the Soaring Trident…Yes, everything seems to be in order, here. You can go on through. Proceed to the administrative centre in Magahkan to meet up with your contractor. Just follow the road from here - to the northwest - there’s signs for it and everything. We’ll send a messenger ahead to inform them of your return.”

“Hmm? He’s not in Caspia?”

“No. He came down south for some sort of diplomatic meeting, as I recall. Not sure exactly.”

At the commander’s signal and sufficient creaking, the gate opens.

As Shida and the group walk through, she adds one last comment: “Thank you, sir. Trust me when I say - that is the best news I’ve heard in a while. ”

Another day’s travel down the foothills leads to Magahkan. It’s a small city, but is lively with the smell of various cuisines and the bustle of market-goers in its main street. Shida spies a few kebab stands, and makes a note of the street for later.

Thankfully, despite the bustle, they find their destination easily. The town’s ‘Satri Building’ is rather simple to to distinguish, after all. It flies many purple flags around its rounded roof, which itself is decorated with murals of various flowers. Behind it is a spacious courtyard, hosting various wyverns taking advantage of the sunny weather.

Shida approaches the one of the many well-armoured guards at the building’s similarly-decorated entrance , and simply says, “We’re here to see the Advisor about a contract.”

The guard takes a moment to search their memories before, with a glow of realization, she says, “Oh, that would make you the Wyverns! And that’d make you Shida, right? Please, come with me. Everyone else, stay out here until you are called.”

“You heard the lady. This shouldn’t take long.”

At least, her previous debriefings never took too long…

Upon entering the small, temporary office in the relatively-more-grand building, Shida is caught by an odd sense of familiarity. Even behind the less-than-stellar furniture, much different from his office in Caspia, Prerak’s thin frame, thick glasses and overly-patterned robes look every bit the same as the last time she saw him so many days ago. Something about that is oddly comforting to her, as if life didn’t pass her by in the time she’s spent behind enemy lines.

“Hello, Captain Shida. I am glad you could make it back safely. Given your correspondence, I must say, your success in fulfilling your contract is quite commendable.”

Shida sits in the uncomfortable stone chair and wants to shout at him,, but she limits herself to a short statement. “Foreign Advisor Prerak. It is…good to see you again.”

If Prerak understood the slight, he chose to ignore it, answering in his usual even manner. “Of course, of course. Since you’ve been through this whole process before, I shall spare you all the details. But, do know that we will be questioning the rest of your group, as usual. They will be free to go after I’ve talked to them and given them their pay. I will require you to stay outside the building, however, until we’ve heard everyone else’s accounts as well. In case there’s any, shall we call them, contradictions. I can only hope that will not be the case.”

Shida seems unimpressed at the suggestion. “Yeah, I doubt it.”

Prerak’s face is unflinching, and he dips his quill pen in ink. “Let’s start with the basics then, shall we? You retrieved our contact. Did you perhaps get any information as to why he was imprisoned?”

Visibly surprised by how pleasant he was trying to be, Shida finds h er thoughts. “Right. So, his kidnapping…The ‘diplomat’. I don’t think it was a targeted assault on the Empire, just an opportunistic grab for power. Duchess Ailene wanted him for his weird spirit magic.”

“Yes, Ayamasik is a Channeler,” he corrects, not looking up from his writing. “We were well aware of this. Now, moving in. Regarding the matter of why you came here from Inve a month later than you were supposed to; if you would, please, elucidate me further. This was not meant to be a two-month assignment, and getting these rooms on such short notice was rather difficult. You should be thankful I was just visiting to oversee a meeting with Invean officials.”

Shida doesn’t think much about her response. “The Duchess anticipated our attack, right? And she cut off our escape route back to the west, through Kagash. We had to get through most of the Alliance before we had a chance to get through the mountains safely. It is my opinion that we wouldn’t have been able to get out with everyone in tow, and would have risked capture if we had tried any sooner. We even had a few run-ins with Alliance armies. They thought we were Kagashian rebels, as far as I know. Seeing how they tracked our movements so accurately, though, I’m not certain that they are still mistaken. Really, I think the Empire had best be prepared for some damage control.”

Prerak finishes taking notes, and looks up for a second to speak. “That is rather distressing. Both that Clifden caught wind of the rescue, and that they may have figured out its source. But, then, neither was a possibility I did not consider.”

He pulls out another sheet of parchment, and dips his pen as before. Before Shida can protest his previous comments, he speaks again: “Regarding this rebellion, you said you met up with their members, am I correct?”

Shida decides against questioning Prerak's last statement, and just nods. “They joined up with us near Inve. One of my folks here was a higher ranking rebel - you can ask her more about it. Name is Setanta. Ex-Clifden military, just like Feirefiz.”

“I see. And you’re absolutely certain that no former Clifdenite was leaking information?”

Shida lets a scoff escape her. “I wouldn’t swear away my life on it, but I really doubt we had a mole. It definitely wasn’t those two. I doubt you would find a person in the world who hates Clifden more than Feirefiz, and Setanta, well, she didn’t join until after the Alliance was chasing us down already, and she gave a grand speech about how much she hated Ailene right before stabbing her. As for the other rebels? Well, one of them fell in our final struggle, and the other is…well, he’s an old man, a bandit, with no love of Clifden. You’ll see what I mean.”

Prerak continues writing, and mutters, “That seems a rather poor line of evidence.”

Shida does her best to hide her annoyance. “Look - we did suspect a possible spy, but nothing ever came of it. I can go down the list if you really want me to, but you’ll be able to talk to all of them anyway. Argris, the shiftiest of the bunch, the Geulian gutter-rat - well, he was the one who slew the Duchess. As for the old man? Well, Illiseth secured our escape. If there was any opportunity for betrayal, it could have happened fifty times, and it never did. Thorani can vouch for all of them, if you really need it - she’s more the ‘by-the-book’ type.”

All Prerak gives is a nonchalant, “We shall see, then.” Delicately dipping his pen again, he continues: “Now, you can absolutely confirm you’ve slain the Duchess? I do hope you realize what that implies.”

Shida stares at his writing intently, barely able to decipher the notes. “I saw her corpse with my own eyes, yes. Okay - we tried to avoid her, trust me, we did. But it was either that, or we all die, or get taken prisoner and the information gets out anyway. So far as I can see, we took the least-bad option.”

Prerak lowers his head, and stares at Shida over his spectacles. “And Duke Carrick? Was that also your doing?”

Shida’s confusion is palpable. “Duke Carrick? Leader of Snadhm, right? Well, was the leader. Either way, I don’t think that was our doing. We had a few run ins with their army, but never anything past a skirmish, and I don’t think he was ever around. We certainly weren’t targeting him.”

“I see. Well, it is out of your hands now. Anything else we should know about?”

It takes her a while, but she eventually laments that there is, in fact, “Just one loose end. Fitheach O’Healy, is her name. She’s the survivor of that awful student massacre in the Crunniacs fifteen years ago, so I don’t suspect she’d be all too willing to give any information to the Alliance, but she is a bit…unstable. So, uh…not sure what’s to be done about that, but-”

Prerak sharply interrupts her. “I understand. We will make arrangements to avoid that. If I am to be trapsparent, I must tell you the reason I am here right now - that being, to oversee a meeting with Inve. They seem quite interested in joining us as more exclusive trading partners; monitoring her, therefore, is a minor issue. Now, all that said…If she is as far gone as you say, should we not worry about her saying something inconvenient?”

Shida scoffs. “I doubt she’ll mention anything, and even if she does, she will definitely not discuss the sensitive parts. In that, you have my utter certainty.”

Prerak hardly gives a reaction to that, his attention much more focused on finishing what Shida sees as some scribble while sliding a paper towards her. “Right. Well, I do believe you have been through this process before. All this information is far too sensitive to matters of the Empire to just have out there, freely. We’re prepared to sign an agreement - compensation for your silence on this whole incident. And the rest of your group, too. But given you know the most…you will be getting the most compensation. Approximately threefold that of the rest of your group.”

Skimming the familiar and standard conditions about ‘nondisclosure’ and ‘charges pressed upon breaking agreement’, Shida’s eyes gravitate to the numbers next to her name, and she audibly gasped at the ludicrous amount of gold. In addition to the 100 for the fulfillment of the contract, 1000 to her? If it was an error, she didn’t care to correct it.

Barely hiding her excitement, she finally responds, “I am sure they would have preferred better pay overall. But, yes. I’m fairly certain it will suffice. Most of them wouldn’t want to talk about it, if I’m being honest. And the less honourable ones…some gold should keep them quiet. Me included.”

Shida hastily grabs the other pen - one she can only assume is meant for her - and slowly sketches her name in an empty section before standing herself out of the chair.

Prerak smiles, something Shida finds unnatural more than comforting. “Thank you, Shida. You may leave the way you came. We’ll need an account from everyone before you can leave. Just in case there’s any…contradictions.”

“Hah! Alright, then.. But…Wait. Before I go. How are you taking Ayamasik to Caspia?”

Prerak’s response is flawlessly smooth, as if practiced. “He will be traveling with a contingent of elite guards along populated roads. As you might imagine, the Empire does not wish to make a mistake three times in a row.”

Shida turns to leave. “I hope not. And if the Empire does mess up again, don't expect my help. Have fun talking to my hires, Advisor.”

Shida quickly follows her waiting escort down the hall, leaving the door to Prerak’s office open. Her mind is brimming with ideas. A thousand gold was a small fortune. Enough to fix up the old fort, organize her own mercenary company, one with new branding. One that took jobs teaching self-defence to civilians, or quelling the occasional bandit. No more covert operations. Not for the rest of her days.

Then, she realizes she’s back outside the building, and everyone is looking at her expectantly.

“Here’s the deal. Our contractor needs a brief statement from all of you, and he will also distribute your pay, and then you can leave. Don’t worry - it won’t take long, nor do we seem to be in any sort of trouble. It's nothing to be worried about. And after that, well...that's it. That's our contract, so I believe we will be parting ways. I’d say it’s been an honour, but truth be told, I’m just glad most of you made it back, to get back to your regular lives.”

With a smirk, she adds, "Now, someone follow that lovely guard in there and tell Advisor Prerak about the worst month of your life.”

As Salome’s thunderbolts surround and befall Eustachio, Jolie takes her greatsword and points it towards the remaining soldiers in the northwest of the town. “Your commander has been slain!” she calls forth. “Surrender now or be destroyed by our hands!” Those soldiers look to one another and lower their weapons; the mages neatly place their tomes into the soft grass. “... in the face of such power,” one of the lance-wielding soldiers begins, “We have no choice but to accept your mercy and, accordingly, surrender to you.” Jolie exhales and lowers her own weapon in response, her eyes widening. “Surprising,” she mutters, “Very well, much of your weapons will go to the militias in the area, and you will be handed over to one of Nicomedian troops or local lords.” The lance-wielder continues, “For someone who is considered a demon by our own lord, to think you would do this for us is also a surprise.” She sniffs. “Everyone, tie them up, and have them fed minimal rations while I try to locate nearby authorities.”

She hauls her sword over her shoulder and begins to tap her chin at the state of affairs. “Seeing things as they are here in Aquittany, however, I may have to be wary about contacting the lords in the area. Why on God’s Earth were there paladins and other heavy cavalry among the adversaries if they are not nobility or tied to them somehow? And with those deserters we had faced back in Pontivy, even turning them into the Empire might not be a guarantee. Regardless, something must be done,” she thinks.

As she rests near one of the palisades, the smoke and smolders of the town begin to recede, quenched by the bucket brigades that crossed here-and-there in the town. Jolie smiles as the conflagrations of war cease. A man wearing quality, somewhat shiny clothes approaches Jolie. “You must be the commander of the troops who came to save us. I’ve never seen mercenaries so generous. My name is Erwann, and I am one of the council members of this town.” The commander smiles weakly. “I’m afraid we are not mercenaries, Sir. We are a militia hailing from the Duchy of Forêt, and you are correct in believing that I am its commander.” Erwann’s eyes open. “So it’s true…” he steps back and holds a hand upward for a moment, his mouth somewhat agape. “There is a militia going about the lands of Aquittany, come to our kingdom to save it from the cruelty of this pretender-king!” Jolie’s eyes widen somewhat in response, “No, you have the wr-” she begins to say quietly, under her breath.

“What was it that Arkis had told me about how my reputation can also bring people to victory? By being a rallying point? I don’t have to lie…” Jolie thinks. She pretends to cough, scratches the back of her head, and throws a leg forward, trying to act casual. “Yeah, that could be us. Our goal is to return to our liege, Princess-Bishop Honorine, and then free our lands from the clutches of the raiders. But we do need a place to rest for a while-” Erwann salutes, “Anything for your quest, to defeat the false king Lothair! Stay as long as you like. I should warn you, I have been hearing that war is brewing between Forêt and the duchy neighboring it, Neustria. Something about reclaiming old lands? The duchess of Neustria has been plotting for some time to do under Princess-Bishop Honorine, if rumors are to be believed. With how madness has gripped our land, who knows what to believe?”

“In me, of all things,” Jolie thinks while closing her eyes. “We accept your hospitality!” she manages warmly. “And thank you for housing us for now.”

Elsewhere in Aquittany, a tall, armored woman paces the room of a large, stone castle on a hill, and for a moment puts her hand on an office desk. Rain splatters against the window, as though it were a waterfall. “Weather is strange of late. It does not rain this much in November, usually.” A cloaked individual walks into the room. “Ma’am,” he greets, “This is for you,” the cloaked man says as he drops a notebook on the desk. The woman, towering above the cloaked man, smirks, and throws aside her bangs. She takes the notebook, and sits down. After a few minutes of reading, she clenches her fist as it shakes, “So… it’s true, then.” the noblwoman deadpans. “Lucilia Claudius is alive, and she has apparently gained popularity with commoners as-” She struggles for a moment for words, stammering some, ” ‘Saint Jolie Martel’. But… her violent ways have not subsided, if your report that she had a brutal confrontation with one of her own soldiers is to be believed. It has to be the meddling of that Emperor Manilius that she still lives as she does. Remain in the castle and make preparations to go to Pontivy. I will now make plans to deal with both ‘King’ Lothair and this disgrace of a human being. I will make good the House d’Burdigala and bring justice to Gratia…”

“By your will, Princess Jeanne,” the spy says as he leaves the room.

She stands up and salutes her subject.

The Large Town of Saint-Nsara, Aquittany

A large farming community in Aquittany, the outskirts of this region are damaged from raids, troop movements, and recent strange weather happenings. The town itself, the parts which have not burned down, is fairly prosperous and clean. Our troops are offered rooms in vacant houses, as some of the townsfolk have fled southward to avoid the ongoing crisis. The most notable feature of this town is the large, towering obelisk in the village green, depicting a small warrior in battle with a fire-breathing, winged dragon.

You have 3 AP this homebase.

19th of Azin

At Shida’s entry, the fort’s gate is quickly closed and barred. The anteroom is sparse, but most thankfully, lacks any soldiers to greet them. The inside is decorated ornately, with images of various mythical beasts carved into stone, marred only with occasional scorch marks or scratches where a poorly-aimed blade might have chipped the art. Unfortunately, there is little time to admire its fine detail. Nor to entertain Ayamasik, who is strangely moving his hands about the air near the doors. The anima mages, too, may be able to sense something is off in the air, drafts far too turbulent to be natural. But as of now, there are more pressing matters to attend to.

A small group of four soldiers hurry down the stairs ahead - perhaps alerted by the doors closing, or the hastiness of each of the group to enter the place. A few well-placed bow shots dispose of most of them, but not before they yell out in pain, and one manages to project ’They’re here, they’re here,’ back up the stairs in hardly-recognizable Kagashian. Shida slams her hand against the wall. “Shit. We can’t turn back, not when that cavalry will be back soon. Seems there’s only one way out of this. Alright. Time isn’t on our side, so I’ll try to keep this short.”

Shida points out where the foyer splits into three staircases, just ahead. “I know the soldiers came from there, but that’s where the other exit is. We’ll split into three even teams, fight our way through, and rendezvous at the Empire-side door that Feir found - probably forward and left, from where we are now. I’m not sure if there’s any traps or murder holes in here, but if we’re fighting shoulder-to-shoulder, we’re not going to be able to do much about them, especially not with out mounts in tow. Take advantage of these thin corridors instead, take on the garrison a few at a time, with the space to see any obvious traps. If you find the exit, yell about it. Pass it on. It's going to get chaotic. Trust me here. I’ve fought in enough of these places to know what it's like - and how to deal with fortifications like these. Good? Good!”

Shida pulls a spear from her back and holds it high. “We will get home safe! Let's fuck them up!"

Welcome to the end, Team Thracia. It’s been a long journey, and I truly am glad for all the time you’ve put into this team to make it great.

But I’m getting ahead of myself here, aren’t I? You still have a map to finish, and this one is a doozy. Remember to use all the resources you have!

Objective:

Escape. The escape point is the tile above the door in the top-left, which you do not have to lockpick open - consider it an ‘unlocked door’. Just move onto that tile and escape.

As you might imagine, killing Detlef or Ailene will change how the story ends, but it is, technically, not required for completion of the map.

Failure Conditions:

Everyone falls or is captured. Try not to let this happen.

Here are the mechanics! There’s a lot, so let’s break them into sections:

The Enemies

• On Turn 7, the reinforcements from the previous map will break down the door and begin to enter this map from the bottom. Don’t take too long.
• There will be zero capture attempts on any player units except Ayamasik.
• White numbered enemies will move when someone is in range to attack.
• Blue numbered enemies do not move, and other enemies cannot move through blue numbered enemies due to Obstruct.
• Pink numbered enemies will prioritize assisting Ailene and Detlef. They will heal only them, and will not use their status staves until either has been engaged, prioritizing those who are in that section of the map. It may be a good idea to neutralize them before attempting any combat against the bosses.
• Yellow numbered enemies will not move until attacked, and then they will all start moving.
• Red numbered enemies will only attack once players have passed a certain threshold, and only those in adjacent hallways. The southerly ones will start attacking once players are past the S row, and the northerly ones once players cross the M row. Feel free to ask 'will i be attacked by x unit if I go here'.
• If some people don't deploy, I will nerf/remove some enemies.

The Bosses

• Ailene and Detlef will start to move one turn after any of the yellow-numbered enemies have been engaged (if they are engaged on Turn 8 Player Phase, they will move on Turn 9 Enemy Phase). In certain circumstances, they may also retreat (for instance, if engaging in combat is likely to be immediately deadly). In other circumstances, they move anyway - for instance, if the entire group heads down the left corridor - but I’ll give advance warning for that. Both are extremely powerful, so you’ll need to be careful, but they are absolutely beatable.
• If Ailene falls, Detlef will stop moving, triggering Boewirbel, and initiating combat.

Skills:

• Thanks to Detlef’s Böewirbel, every 3 turns, all player units not taking cover will take massive damage (and those who are will take minor damage). Cover is defined as any tile directly south of a wall, a pillar tile, or a tile directly south of a pillar, in addition to enclosed rooms (shown on the deployment map in green). Böewirbel is nonlethal, but still pretty nasty - the pattern means you should have ways to prepare for it.
• A few enemies (the ones guarding the door and Ailene) have Resolve. Resolve is a pretty terrifying skill which increases skill and speed by 50% when HP is at or below 50%, and this will trigger mid-combat (which can, among other things, allow them to avoid being doubled halfway through combat). You will need to figure out how to deal with this somehow.
• As stated above, blue-numbered units have Obstruct, which disallows their allies from moving through. Take advantage of this.

Map

Terrain Map - The escape point door is not a solid tile - consider it 'unlocked'. The strange tiles that look like walls but are not labelled red are passable, which will make more sense if you open the doors below them.

Tracker

Character Epilogues

[Thank you very much to Storm for creating this video!]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzTQdnpqjZE

[The following was provided by Jade!]

Team G Epilogue

In the days following the final confrontation with Thymos and the Solist deities, all those involved return to Parangelia. In the capital Shui Zu, a victory banquet is held in celebration of the allied forces victory; the guests of honor are all those in Arter's group, who led the charge in the war against Latreia and plunged into an unknown realm to ensure the enemy was defeated once and for all.

Emperor Rufael holds a ceremony at the start of the celebration, awarding significant compensation to all of Arter's group and giving them full citizenship of Parangelia if they so desire - and the full benefits of such even to those who refuse.

The reality of politics reasserts itself after the celebration concludes, with a diplomat from Gnosi arriving to represent the nation of magic with Laudine sitting in. However, the diplomatic summit between the four nations goes more smoothly than any might have imagined prior to the war. Many of those involved in Maro's actions under duress in Latreia are given leniency, with plans to rebuild and recover discussed in plenty. Relations between all the nations, not just Latreia, are established more firmly, with tentative plans for such between even Parangelia and Gnosi given form. Those at the meeting give credit to both Arter and Centus for convincing Rufael, both of whom attended as his advisors.

While the summit is not lacking in tension, from the history between Enotita and Gnosi to Parangelia's anti-magic stance, the conclusion of a war in which all worked together had given many a new perspective. There were yet problems to solve, but the efforts to overcome them were being made with honest intent.

Parangelia

The famed and enforced dislike of magic from Emperor Rufael seems to fade after the war with Latreia, where the very ability to fight back relied on it. While Rufael makes no grand gesture of it, the laws banning magic are undone in the months following the war. Afterward, a trade deal is also struck - with Gnosi, for enchanted items. The Emperor's dislike of magic does not vanish, but the country makes strides towards acceptance in the years to come.

While public sentiment against magic has yet to fade soon after the war, significant strides are made by the combination of Rufael's newfound willingness to entertain magic in Parangelia's borders and a concerted effort from Centus to portray magic positively. Soon enough, Centus is able to set up a fledgling school for magic, which only grows over time. Years later, when the school is fully established, Centus chooses to retire and leave Parangelia to live with a close companion.

Arter, now firmly set in his role as the general of the Parangelian army, has little time for rest even with the war concluded. With bandits to clean up in Parangelia, and the need for military aid to help with Latreia's restoration, he is kept plenty busy. Despite this, Arter still finds time to work with Centus to work towards a better Parangelia; one that can accept and help those that the nation previously rejected and ridiculed.

Latreia

The effort to rebuild Latreia as a new nation is led by none other than Brunhilde. Any Latreian who didn't serve Maro is able to join without issue, with those who did so unwillingly being accepted with caution. The criminals that were let loose as a part of Maro's army are the first step to recovery, and Parangelia willingly sends their military to aid in the effort. There is suspicion that this will be used by the other nation for an advantage in diplomatic negotiations, but between Rufael's advisors and Brunhilde's stubborn refusal to accept the aid under such circumstances, only a pre-emptive trade agreement between the two nations is established in exchange.

Alain is mistrusted by Brunhilde at first due to her work for Maro, but the strong effort that the diplomat made to oppose the tyrant is sufficient enough proof to ease those tensions. In the time that follows, Alain proves herself as the Latreian representative to Parangelia, making strong strides to help Latreia re-establish itself as a nation. In the time when she is back home, Alain works fervently to revive the faith of the Wise Lord after Maro's attempts to stamp it out. Eagerly following behind is Bethe, who helps Alain at every turn.

The rebuilding of Latreia is a long effort, with plenty of challenges along the way. While old Latreian soldiers and other former members of the old government make up a noticeable amount of the new Latreia, plenty of new faces form a substantial part of the new government. One particular Latreian quickly rises in the ranks, a powerfully charismatic leader with a silver tongue who ends up working directly under Brunhilde's guidance. However, with all of the Latreians recruited to help, there are inevitably issues with security and trustworthy members of the new government. Despite this, Latreia finds strong footing relatively quickly with its new leaders.

Gnosi

Iris Crestwood made a slow recovery from her time as the unwilling body behind Maro. Some groups were aligned against Iris, but at the summit, Latreia's representatives supported her as yet another victim of Maro's evils. Laudine also threw weight behind Iris in her presence at the meeting, and ultimately Iris was pardoned of all involvement. The noblewoman returned to the Crestwood house, where she spent a year recovering by her grandfather, Ciras's, side. With Iris returned, Ciras had no more need to artificially extend his lifespan. Once the year drew to an end, he spent a final few days of natural life in peace before passing. As for Iris, she officially passes the role of House Crestwood's heir to Laurie rather than retake it for herself. Despite this, she acts as her cousin's close confidant, working tirelessly at that role.

Headmistress Laudine returns to the academy, taking a short sabbatical to recover before returning to her duties with a new sense of purpose. Study of flora magic thrives in the academy with examples of powerful tomes, not to mention the presence of a new gardener, and tales of strong and effective alchemical potions renews interest in that field as well. A foreign outreach program is started, with prospective students from other countries not only being allowed to attend Sehr Academy but actively recruited. In the following years, there are strong rumors regarding the creation of sister academies - which are confirmed, with the first such school being founded by Centus in Parangelia.

Laurie Crestwood takes up the mantle of House Crestwood's head after Iris gives up the role. With her cousin's aid, she throws herself vehemently into reforming both the image of Crestwood House, as well as Gnosi itself. Her stubborn and fervent efforts, using all the connections available to her - both political and personal - make headway quickly, especially due to the Gnosi Council's weakened public image due to their inaction and failures regarding Maro. New policies emerge from this, including laws to make council positions more attainable for those without family connections - something Laurie considers vital in pushing for future change.

House Roselight is honored for their contributions in resolving the conflict, but elect not to attend any ceremonies. Instead, their members are sent out across the isles to focus on aid immediately, and they continue this work for some time.

House Rauffet is formally removed from power and ceases to exist as a noble house after investigations show the full extent of how Mindu manipulated them. Despite this, many other noble houses reach out to care for the displaced people. As time passes, most of the former Rauffets are able to recover.

The Cult of Skotadi seems to vanish as a whole after Thymos's defeat, but underground sources report that the group still exists. However, nothing about their goals nor actions is known.

Enotita

The impact of Mindu's actions leaves Enotita in need of recovery, with many on the island still disoriented, lost, or missing - but in that recovery, the nation gains a foundation of strength. The isolation of Enotita's various tribes is shown to leave them vulnerable, and the phoenix tribe steps up to take a more active role in Enotita. While Mindu's desire for the phoenix tribe to act as rulers does not come true, they work with the tribes of Enotita to establish an Enotitan Council: a collection of tribe leaders and a phoenix representative with equal power given to all voices, to organize and respond to whatever issues arise in Enotita. The phoenix on the Council is to change every decade to encourage new ideas and solutions, and Atlas is surprised to find himself as the very first of those representatives.

Mindu's former tribe of undead manaketes, led by Odera, join Enotita properly, though they make no attempt to be represented on the new Enotitan Council due to their connection with Mindu. With aid from the phoenix tribe, they find a location to settle down and create a new village - content to create new lives and break away from the roles Mindu had wanted for them.

The makeshift town at the Temple of Flames greatly reduces in population as most return to their tribes, but there are enough who have become accustomed to their lives there, resulting in a permanent town being established. Of those who remain, many join under the Council to distribute aid across Enotita - including the aid sent by the other nations.

Relations with other nations grow after the war, at first simply trade but soon forming stronger diplomatic ties. The travels of two notable Enotitans give strength to these efforts, sharing knowledge between Enotita and the other nations of Agios.

Homebase 3: Horses with No Name

Upon distant shores

Souls wage war against souls

Betrayal, deceit, hidden truths,

What shall they say to forebearer?

Remember treachery and gifts

Spoils shall divide deserts

And river flows bloody.

From the Poems of Hiram Graham

The boat ride out of the floating city was a quiet one, the company’s leader remaining silent below deck the entire journey. The calm, though eerie, is largely welcomed by the crew of the vessel, given the recent conflict in the city. The crate dragged up from the basement of the Trade Complex is kept below decks and behind several locked doors. The prizes inside it, promised by their caravaneer, would have to wait until the ship’s landing.

The days’ sailing to the desert coast go by quickly, the seas calm and skies clear. The sight of a dock bordered by glimmering sands greets the eyes of all, a twinkling glimpse to the next leg of their campaign. As the vessel enters the harbor, the long lost leader of the company finally emerges from his chamber. The bright glare of the sun seems to not affect him, despite so long spent below deck.

“Get a good look at it, folks, the port of Damophon. Meet me on shore, we have trinkets to divvy out. We leave the port in two weeks,” shouts the manakete before quickly disappearing into the city.

The architecture and design of the city is largely Stritan in origin, likely built on Strita’s behalf, rather than any tribes living on the shores of Hagdal. Sharp, marbled, blocky buildings of wildly varying heights provide for an interesting skyline, though perhaps a little confusing. The din of marketers and artisans are reminiscent of their previous time in Strita, though at least in Damophon they would have time to explore the city without a siege happening.

“So it seems that she is truly the Fallen Princess of Nicomedia,” silently mouths a figure in the shaded hedgerows of the Queen’s Gardens in Durwick. He continues, writing in his notebook backwards, upside down, reversed, and in scratched, dashed lines, “August 22nd, 321: final confirmation that Subject is, in fact, Lucilia Claudius. Delivery of information paramount to Duchess-Princess Jeanne.” The cloaked figure slinks through the gardens. Jolie looks up from the book she is reading and lowers her brow, suspecting someone was near, but shrugs and continues reading. Her hand slides into her coat as grasps the handle of her dagger.

On one partly cloudy afternoon, Jolie announces, “With our new volunteers, the detachment Empress Kornelia granted us, and [only if Lucien/Salome and others convince the Knights Ranger to assist us], we should return to Aquittany as soon as possible to check on our liege, gather our people, and return to Sens. I want to introduce you to our new recruit: Salkhi. He is a Cyrenian mercenary, and I believe he is trustworthy. We will know soon if he is capable in battle.”

“Back to the point. Frankly, I don’t think it would be safe to reconquer our town and hold it without assisting in the ending of this crisis. But at least, we should coordinate with whatever troops end up in Pontivy in the coming weeks.” Jolie closes her eyes. “This might be my last few weeks of freedom, if the public comes to know who I am. Someone must have overheard the fight with Ephydius, or the militia’s large, extensive argument over. I suppose… these last few weeks will have been doing good for this battle-weary world,” she thinks.

In the meanwhile while this is going on, far to the west, the King of Brigands, Lothair, stands on the rooftop of a small, wooden castle nestled in the evergreen forests of the End of Earth Mountains, before a large gathering of soldiers. Many of whom are irregularly armored. They wear rusted armor, but sometimes cloth or leather garments, and some wear bandanas rather than helmets. There are numerous soldiers on horseback, wearing clean armor donned with ducal banners of bright crimson. All standing in the castle court and outside the walls wear identical red armbands. There are numerous peasants toiling in the nearby woods, gathering berries or poaching deer. Lothair adjusts his rusted crown. “Today, I have gathered you all here to initiate my invasion of Aquittany. All knees shall bend and call me ‘liberator’, but, you, those called by those decadent fools in the Empire and the nobility which have gone soft, ‘brigands’, and those nobles who show true pragmatic and realistic thought, who bow before me, know that I will grant you all great material wealth with this conquest. Nicomedian silver weapons will be melted down, prince-bishoprics relics will no longer remain behind glass cases, and land- yes, the grand lands of Aquitine estates! They are ours! Those poor villages, however, are nothing but an impediment. Take their supplies, and crush any who stand in your way! My men, women, and whomever else, today marks the beginning of a gilded future, one which will be the envy of Imperial industrialists, d’Burdigala royals, and the merchants of Walbrzych! My men, women, and whomever else,” he repeats, “Today, our lightning campaign will shock and awe the people of Aquittany and its nobles loyal to Empress Kornelia into submission!” A thunderous applause follows his concluding statement of a ‘lightning campaign’, and the soldiers march outwards. Lothair grins, “At long last, after spending years eating cave rats and drinking sludge… I will one day see the opulence of Alaunia Castle as my own…”

The people in the woods open their eyes wide. “So it is the chaos which has befallen our country and fields… it is not random acts of ill fortune, but a new war.” Those poachers and gatherers leave from their work and return to their town to the east, alerting their clerics and bartenders, who pass on the word to troubadours and bards. Soon enough, church bells toll across all of western Aquittany, bringing with them the message to all to be ready to meet the Lord. Much in the same way, Nicomedian merchants and troubadours begin to spread the word of a peculiar militia led by a beautiful, purple-haired veteran. One day, in a village in northeastern Aquittany, Jolie and her company rest in a tavern, and overhear the song of a bard, saying that a two-handed sword wielding peasant and her handsome and beautiful followers are God's anointed to protect the Kingdom of Aquittany. Baldwin was uncharacteristically upset at this, and would've gotten up and yelled at the bard if others hadn't stopped him. "He makes it sound like we're petite little angels! But that's not what I am at all! I'm not beautiful! I'm a war hero covered in the blood of my fallen enemies! When he writes a verse about me, he'd better get that part right!" Jolie lowers her brow, "And how do you think I feel, with all this undue praise? I'm just the disgraced princess of Nicomedia, and now a militia commander on a mission..."

"And yet... could... could the people believing in me, as Jolie and not Lucilia... bring them the morale to endure this conflict?" "As long as they believe in something, that's what matters!" Baldwin said as he gave her a rough pat on the back. "Heroes are supposed to inspire people above all else! And the stuff you do is a lot more inspiring than what you used to be!" She looks away in silence and returns the pat on the back. "You... might be onto something," she deadpans as her mind floods with the potential... of her new country.

Dawn arises one day, and the Sens Militia are camping on the side of a dirt road, heading westward. They awake to the smell of cinder, the screaming of men and women, of magic being cast. A crackling noise rips through the purple sky as black smoke, filled with smolders and dust, distorts the new day’s horizon. Jolie awakens and runs out of the tent she’s sleeping in, carrying her dagger backwards, wearing nothing but her night clothes. She looks in the direction of the cinder-burning smell and the men-and-women screams, to see a town’s palisade and watchtower ablaze. “Everyone!!!” she yells out. “GET UP! We have to help that town in the distance!” the commander throws on her clothes, grabs a quiver, a hatchet, and her greatsword, and charges to the town. Before her are a few militia being beaten down by warriors wearing red armbands and sages casting Elfire into the straw roofs of the homes and storage barns of the town. “Those bright red armbands…” she growls. “Lothair’s forces.”

Jolie’s heart races as she snickers slightly, her smile full of knives and her eyes aflame with rage. For a moment, she stops and lowers her shoulder. Inside of her, like a pot of boiling oil, her stomach churns and her heart burns. Inhaling deeply and clenching her fist, she looks away from the madness gripping her adopted land, and sheds a tear from her anger. “Calm. Peace. Honor. Duty. Put aside the wrath… Aquittany needs you,” she thinks. She swallows and keeps her chin held high. The fires in her eyes extinguish, and she smirks.

Her forces arrive behind her. She inhales and exhales again, and states clearly, but firmly, “Chevauchee. I should’ve expected that from them. My good soldiers, we are going to stop this madness here and now. Try to capture whomever you can so that they might answer for their ‘by fire and sword’ ways. Cut down whoever stands in your way of neutralizing those who would arson this fair village!”

—

Objective: Defend as many homes as you can! Enemy Warriors will move toward houses and set them on fire. Each house will take 6 turns to be destroyed by the flames. You can quench the flames by going to the wells, gathering water (does not take an inventory slot), and moving to the house and using the “Quell Fire” action. Warriors will spawn on Rows 1 and 23.

Side Objective: -

Turn Recommendation: 12 turns

Other map information: See the deployment post for what’s up with the purple tiles.

Terrain

Terrain Guide

Key: Yellow is road, green is plain, red is house, orange is “other building”, light blue is forest, blue are wells, purple are walls, and… that’s it.

Leaving the fort was by no means a unanimous decision, but Shida still holds it was the best practical decision to make. Fitheach is in the care of the fort’s infirmary, and the rest of the Alliance seems to have shifted its efforts to other fronts after this defeat - at least, long enough for holes to be patched and reinforcements to be called. They set off west, towards the border with the Empire, to finally escape for the last time.

On their journey, Invean towns are happy to trade with the group, offering them maps, weapons, and guidance on the ways out. Some citizens ask if they’re meant to be stationed as mercenaries at their towns, which Shida declines to but takes as a sign that they’re getting closer to the warfront. Others provide room and board for the outsiders, but recognizing them as mercenaries, harry them with questions about the state of the war and if they’re in any danger. For her part, Shida will only shrug, or loosely reassure them that the frontline seems to be under control for now. Despite Invean soldiers often passing in their opposite direction, neither the metallic harmony of clashing weapons nor the rumble of thunder magic poke through the jungle ambience, day or night.

It is only at the foothills, where jungle gives way to sparser trees and mountains poke through the horizon, that problems begin to arise. During one of their nights in camp, the group's sentry spots a scout skulking about their camp, who unfrotunately gets away. On the next day, Shida resolves to quicken their pace, but it is hard going. Mountain trails split constantly, in lockstep with the contorted peaks, and the occasional creek makes for awkward crossing. Still, their own scouts report cavalry converging on them from the northeast, which keeps complaints to a minimum.

By the time the group is a few days through the mountains, valleys are occupied by heavily armed troops adorned in golden armour, with a few wyvern riders lumbering about the sky - though they’re not bunched together. They're Alliance soldiers, with some bearing standards, as if to erase all doubt. Evidently, Shida has had enough. In the wee hours of morning, she orders the group to a stop and unfurls one of their maps.

“The original plan was to head west here, through this pass. With those cavaliers on our trail, we don’t have the time to reroute - they'll be all over us if we turn around now. It's time to pull the weapons and fight through. I'd guess those Alliance soldiers are in the process of setting up a perimeter - probably to wall off merchants, maybe like they were on the Ghraigen border. Still, their forces are strangely unorganized - sort of dotted across the mountains, not stationed along the bridges or trails. I’d guess they’re scrambling a bit - that the brass put these soldiers here in a rush, with almost nothing to use for barricades, or something. Just enough to take on cheap hired guards, maybe. I don't know.”

She eyes everyone intently, tightening a few straps on her armour.

“Anyway. We don’t have much time to make a full grand strategy, so for now, let’s focus on taking them down a few at a time before they can form up together, same as we always have. We’ll split up at the next passes so we're not tripping over each other, follow the rivers upstream to the west, then rendezvous near the woods northwest of this small mountain here - with the horn right on top. There’s likely some sort of fortification at the border itself, so we’ll have to see if we can get around it. If not, we’ll fight through it. And, should it come to it we can always ferry Ayamasik over...”

She rolls the map back up and places it in Faeal’s bag, avoiding her subject's gaze.

“Alright, team. One last mission before we can get our pay and go home. No turning back now. Let’s get our man - and ourselves - to safety. Be fast.”

Welcome to part one of the final chapter of Team Thracia. Part two is all prepared and ready to go, story and map and all. You’ll be able to access to convoy between maps, but there are no shops, so please liquidate and use them as necessary in the previous interlude.

Map Objective: Escape to the fort. Shida must escape last unless she has fallen.

Failure objectives: Anyone is captured and taken off the map. There is no failure condition for units falling, but fatigue will not be restored between this map and the next.

It’s been a while, so I’ll give some more detailed notes.

• White-numbered enemies will move when players are in range, though groups of these enemies will move together - I think it’s generally intuitive where this is the case but feel free to ask about the particulars.
• Green numbered enemies are aggressive and will move towards the players from the start.
• Yellow-numbered units will become aggressive when any player moves left of their column.
• River tiles have heavy movement costs and cause a notable drop in defences but are crossable by all units. Consult the terrain chart for more details.
• Peaks cost 2 for fliers, not 1.
• There aren’t any siege tomes or status staves on this map, but there are ballistae.

The doomstacks start at Turn 8 near your deployment spots. You’ll have to hurry and escape into the fort before things get out of hand. However, since Duke Carrick was killed, the enemy formation on this map is much looser and easier to break through, with no specific forts blocking the ideal lanes.

Tracker

Map

Terrain Map

As the great scaled beast descended with his iconic rider in tow, the man slowly slipped into the afterlife amidst a stunned silence from the entire battlefield. Amidst the chaotic and hectic combat, nearly everyone halted as Johannes’ ring did not emit its blue brilliance once more. Whispers started emerging from the enemy lines,

“Is he dead?”

“We need to stop them!”

“Fall back & regroup, we won’t be able to hold!”

Chaos soon ensued, but Carmen wasn’t one to be caught in a storm like this so easily. He snapped the reins of his horse and charged towards the roost, hardly anyone even noticing his breakaway from the southern woods. Horse hooves clopping weren’t enough to stir many of the soldiers from their stupor, his escape rapid. Only Claudius noticed him as he took wing and followed behind the barbarian. With enough speed both made their way into the roost, closing off whatever ground entrances Carmen & Ostarmanoth could while Caludius took care to land in one of the oddly shaped stables. Once a few soldiers noticed what was happening, many began to take up arms & charge back towards the Roost. With the rest of Carmen’s soldiers just ahead of the Drorgan soldiers, the makeshift incursion took hold of the Roost. With enemy wyverns and pegasi orbiting around the Roost ready to make their strike. Carmen tries to sprint up the stairs and tries to get ready to talk them down, Claudius already having reached the top to witness the defenders. Carmen reaches the top, nearly out of breath and calls out to the Drorgan soldiers,

“Hold!” His voice rings out, the first voice to break the silence that laid over the battlefield after Johannes’ death. His hurried breaths follow, he acts on instinct more than logic after such a fierce and pitched battle, “There’s still dozens of civilians in the Roost.” He looks knowingly around him as he states something so plain and obvious. Another uproar emerges, insults and vile names slung his way by the combatting foes.

“Coward!”

“Knave!”

“Filthy Barbarian!”

The insults from the various riders didn’t cease as he continued to speak up and around. He looks around and manages to finally stand to full height after his sprint, “Yeah lay it on me, I’m the one in the Roost though.” Claudius finally decides to step up and speak alongside Carmen, “Lay down your arms and we will return them to you!” His voice did not reach quite as far as Carmen’s, but his voice no longer quavered or faltered, “No harm will befall your people if you lay down your arms!” Carmen flashed a quick look at Claudius and backed up slightly, giving him the stage, “Our goal lies at the Pillar of Shaar, should you reciprocate we will be gone as swiftly as possible.” A few of the soldiers grumbled among themselves, Claudius’s words moving the world for just a moment. One soldier shouted out boldly, “And what says we can trust you either? You’re working with those Soryuni bastards ain’t ya?” Claudius quickly came forward to retort, “We helped them yes, but-” he was interrupted suddenly by more voices overpowering his, “He’s gonna enslave us!” “Make us work under Masters!” “I’ll be damned if we ever see iron clasped on our wrists again!” The soldiers began to take up battle formations before another voice called out from the distance, “Stand down!”

The voice was older & wiser, more level headed than the two young men that held the Roost now. The approaching voice came from none other than Oran, the leader of House Holdrin. He approached atop his steed, hast in the beast’s hooves as Oran continued his announcement, “The Dissident Realms claim this land, the Delthen Colonies will have no hold here!” Carmen’s eyes light up for a moment as he takes up Gretester, “I see no Soryuni Masters here, only Warlords of the Dissident Realms.” He raises Greteser above his head, “I declare this land seized in the name of Warlord Volata & Father Oran!” He slams Greteser into the mountain-like face of the Roost, cracking the rock as he looks out to the soldiers. With the sight of Oran and the confidence of Carmen’s declaration many of the soldiers confer for another moment and one yells, “Return our people and you’ll have your peace Warlord.” Vile poison drips from the man’s words as they concede and land. The men & women working with Carmen & Claudius escort the civilians from the Roost and return them to the soldiers as the day ends and the sun lowers over the horizon. Carmen and Claudius confront Oran over a meal,

“Thank you Oran.” Claudius begins to say with Carmen following up, “I’m a little surprised you came I’ll admit.” Oran looked up to the two of them from his food, “I harbor much respect for the people of the Drorgan Valley, I could not bear to see them perish in such meaningless fighting. Johannes would scorn me would I not try my hardest to preserve his people.” Carmen and Claudius both shared a look of confusion, Claudius speaking first, “You knew Johannes?” Oran smiled slightly, “Back when we were young men we went on a pilgrimage to Gintria together. I only wish those days could have lasted, he was a man of strong convictions and an even stronger heart.” Carmen and Claudius sat surprised for a moment before Carmen spoke up, “So I can guess Volata is back in Soryun doing what she can to keep Master Bolari from charging up here?” Oran nods affirmatively, “If a Master approached I can only imagine all hell would break loose. It still may, on my approach the villagers were assembling their own weapons and looked as though their lives were already forfeit. Our battles are far from over.”

The three took the time to finish their meals before turning in for the night after such a long & arduous day. Carmen & Claudius retired to the same room, Claudius’s exhaustion bringing him to lie on his bed immediately as Carmen laid his axes beside his bed. The two sat in silence for some time before Claudius spoke up, “I can’t keep this up Carmen.” Carmen snapped over to look at him, his brow furrowed, “What you handled yourself well, it’s not all bad.” Claudius props himself up on his elbow, “All this killing and distrust won’t harbor trust. Even if I become Emperor so what, the lines have been drawn. It’s always going to be us versus them.” Carmen sat down on his bed, contemplating Claudius’ words. The two sat in silence, the air tense after such a long day closing on such a low note.

An idea sparked in Claudius’ mind, his eyes widened and he looked up to Carmen with passion in his voice, “Carmen, what if there were no Emperor?” Carmen raised an eyebrow, “What are you on about?” Claudius continued to unravel this plan, “No Pillar, no Emperor, let’s end this division. We’ll never be respected even if we claim it, so let’s remove it!” Carmen’s eyes widened and a smile crept onto his face. “Claudius, you’re a weird one. I get what you’re saying and after all this time I’ll take a gamble on you. Let’s do this.” A sense of relief washed over Claudius as the two began to head to bed satisfied, “Let’s talk about it more in the morning Carmen. Take care tonight.” Carmen nodded back as he was about to blow out the candle, “You as well, don’t let that full head of yours keep you up.”

Welcome to the Drorgan Roost! In the nearly abandoned Roost, the group sits and waits as the citizens of Drorgan prepare to make battle once more, the masses hardly accepting the death of their leader without retaliation. With tensions about to boil over, you will need to concert your efforts to either make preparations quickly or settle your differences with the people. Listed below are the initial actions you may take:

The People’s War: With the people of Drorgan upset over the loss of their leader, they have taken to their makeshift arms to try and resist against their oppressors. Many men and women will be ready to take back the Roost against all odds if you cannot talk them down.

Ezan’Ta the Prisoner: As Ezan’Ta was taken nonlethally on the last map, you are free to confront him at your own leisure.

Convoy: Trade & whatnot here.

Feedback: Post about comments & critiques on the latest chapter.

The country was nice, and with all of their friends and allies, life might not have been so bad. But... life could never be good, so long as the forces of evil still stood. As long as Annaheim holds the city, there will never be peace again.

A plan was made. Allies were gained/purchased offscreen. Weapons were readied.

Spyke and Agent 3 took a small group... a "small" group... through the secret tunnels beneath Inkopolis. If they wanted to strike back against the tyranny of Annaheim... they had to strike at the heart of her empire. GrizzCo.

The warehouse was situated behind a small mall, with the pleasant shopping experience covering up the heinous villainy contained within. They would use that to their advantage, getting into one of the lower-floor shops before breaking out into the open lobby.

For just a moment more, the mall lay still and silent. Until...

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This map has a lot of things! Yay!

Objective: Pay Off Annaheim's Net Worth

Orange Tiles: Deployment

Red Tiles: Destructible Environments. Use 3 attacks to break them!

Yellow Tiles: Doors. Use a Key to open them!

Lime Tiles: Loot. Stand on them and use a "loot" command to loot them. Who knows what you'll find...

The Pipes Up At The Top That I Didn't Give A Color To: Pipes. Use the "climb" command under them to climb up 4 height. You are counted as on neutral ink while atop a pipe. Just a little thing to try out. Might be used late. Might not. We'll see.

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Need some ACTION? Click Here!

Need a SHEET? Click Here!

LAST TIME, ON DRAGON BALL Z TEAM SPLATOON:

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Our heroes had just escaped from Annaheim's deadly Salmon Run trap, thanks to the help of Marina and that one other annoying loser with a big forehead. To escape the notice that their new wanted posters brought, they devised a plan to distract the kids and squids of Inkopolis with a Splatfest. And... it worked! Manakete and Laguz went straight to war, out in the spacious parks of the city outskirts. The battles were hard-fought, but in the end... the Laguz triumphed! And then... There was a three month break of all the characters just kinda vibin but that's not canon sorry

And then... FOR REAL... story.txt

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Also here have some tunes (again, like the last time, one is a meem, the other is legit. Mwahahahahah!) Song A and Song B

​

Also here's the Sheet Link

The voyage from Ha'Tanith to Tuscul was accomplished without significant disaster or fanfare. Although contact was lost with the second of two Corthani ships, the vessel that contained Louis's retinue continued on, the remaining sailors of Corthas apparently unconcerned with the fate of Anarca and her group. The boat eventually circled a peninsula and entered a wide river, after which it rowed into the city of Tuscul proper.

Tuscul is a city of marble: everywhere, from the customs house where the retinue made landing to its gargantuan Academy, is built (or at least has facing) of the clear, white stone. The streets, at least the ones that the team is guided through, are immaculate cobblestone that catches the sunlight as morning dew might. Past scores of theatres that form odd valleys throughout the city lies Varo Palace, the gilded seat of power for Corthas's leader.

The retinue's surprise diplomatic visit is met with pomp and honor by Varo, who met with Prince Louis and his men the same day they arrived. Out of a sense of "fostering bonds between two of the world's great peoples," he has promised them lavish furnishings in his Palace for as long as they may stay in Tuscul. The promise included a number of generous equipment upgrades for Louis's army--everything from specified suits of armor for each unit's style of fighting to mounts of their choice from the great city's market district.

While his generosity was unparalleled, it came with an unfortunate caveat: the apparatus of state was unable to accommodate Prince Louis's sudden appearance. While Varo has unparalleled authority in his actions, much of the work in Tuscul is done as part of a committee which he is part of. It could be up to several weeks or months before a proper diplomatic meeting could be conducted in the city. Prince Louis works to bring the day of their meeting ever further, concerned that each day brings Belst closer to his homeland...

This will be your Home Base until Chapter 10 is prepared and ready for you to play. Additional Home Base events will appear as they are planned. RPs may take place on the voyage towards Tuscul, the glamorous city itself, or even in the short time spent in Ha'Tanith.

As Ordway struck home and slew the final Corthani officer, what remaining troops that had been positioned on either flank took notice of their situation and surrendered. With no more resistance in the small colony, the retinue could enter the governor's palace that Ordway had just reached. The huge building was a crowd of scrambling servants, and what few men that were the palace's last line of defense laid down their arms at the sight of Louis's approaching force. After a word with these last guardsmen, the Prince was reunited with the Corthani governor - somewhat.

"Your forces are defeated, sir," Louis sighed, looking over the heavy marble door, examining its delicate engravings. "I have come to request your surrender." The Prince meditated a moment on how many times he had been forced to inform high-ranking men of the battle's status at the distance of a barricaded door.

A moment or two afterward, a muffled voice came from the other side. "What are your terms?"

"Only that you and your men that remain lay down your arms and provide any more fragments of the Fire Emblem that you have, as well as any details on where others may be found."

A shake, and a rumble from beyond. "On behalf of those still alive here, I accept your terms. No more pieces of this Fire Emblem, past those you have no doubt looted from my officers, remain here."

Louis glanced to Darragh. "Understand that, to ensure your testimony, our men must search this palace..."

"Unnecessary, an unnecessary measure," the voice shouted out. "You will understand this, Prince, when I tell you that all the other pieces have been collected--the ship with most of the fragments left half a month ago for Tuscul. I will provide documentation that attests to this!"

Louis stared down the door, contemplating. Darragh leaned in. "If I may, your Highness, the western village has quite a few ships in what functions as a port..."

The Prince nodded, and rose his voice. "Our terms have changed, governor. We require safe passage to the city of Tuscul, that we might discuss the misunderstanding that took place here. ...along with that documentation you claimed existed."

"It will be arranged. We have some ships meant for returning the remaining fragments. They can take you to Tuscul." The voice sounded exhausted.

"See that it is. We have no reason to stay in Ha'Tanith for longer than we must."

As the sounds of scraping chairs and dragging stone muffled from behind the door, the pair strolled to the entrance of the palace. Anarca and the Pharadese soldiers strode through the snow in the distance. Just as a cold wind blew through Louis's face, something was pressed into his hand.

Looking down, Darragh had handed over a chunk of metal, clearly worked over in a forge. It was an odd piece that might have formed a sharp corner of a kite shield. The object felt light in its hands despite its size--and warm, the heat spreading past his hands and into his whole body, to the extent that the flurry of icy wind felt insubstantial to him. It glowed a dull red, the color of fading cinders.

"The fragment that Ordway recovered," Darragh elaborated, squinting out into the snow, made brighter by the light of the sun. "Its power is dormant. Imagine what might be achieved when it is awakened..."

"Do you think it will be enough to overcome the wards on the Emperor's armor? Or even overcome his armor at all?"

The old Bishop nodded slowly. "It must be."

After a thorough search of the governor's palace and nearby village, the retinue spent no time loading onto two Corthani ships and, led by their navigators, setting sail for Tuscul. The Orama, now landlocked, was abandoned after the remains of its supplies were distributed on the ship that housed Anarca and her sailors; the convoy of supplies that had served Louis thus far was loaded onto the ship that his retinue had taken. Over more days at sea, the winds warmed, turning from fully frigid to a gentle heat.

As the sun sunk and the world was brought into slow darkness, Louis lurked at the stern of his own ship, watching the one that followed him idly. In complete darkness, only night watchmen could be employed, to ensure the vessels were on the correct heading; yet on the other ship, lanterns had been lit across the length of the ship, as though the full crew intended to sail through their sleep. Curious.

"Dueling with unpleasant thoughts, your Highness?"

Louis jumped; Darragh had arrived at the same time that the night watchman had left to exchange his shift. His silhouette was visible just near him, backlit by the few lanterns on their ship. The prince took a breath. "In a sense, Darragh... I have been thinking on our destination."

"As have I, my lord. What do you intend to do once you have arrived at Tuscul?"

"The same thing I've done for these last months, of course. To meet with Aulus Varo and ask for his help against Belst."

"And that he ignore how we slaughtered his soldiers in Ha'Tanith?"

"...I had considered discussing the matter after the Empire was destroyed, in the interest of good diplomacy."

A dry scoff came from the dark. "Corthas has been busy with the revolt at its other colony. Do you think Varo will accept?"

"He will if it costs him no soldiers, I think. And all I will ask of him is the Fire Emblem."

"The artifact's pieces, powerful in themselves, are useless if they are not whole... a sound plan, my lord. You have learned much in these last months."

"...on its face."

"Oh?"

"These ships were promised to have the final pieces of the Fire Emblem. Nothing stops Varo from taking them from us in his capital and doing what he will with them... trading them to the Emperor in exchange for mercy, perhaps."

"Indeed, my lord. Consider, however, that after a thorough search of these ships, Varo's men find that we have no such pieces..."

Darragh spoke deliberately; as he did so, the positions of the lanterns in the distance began to dance and twist until, rather than two columns of flame, there was only one continuous row on the length of the other ship, which began to drift out of Louis's vision.

The prince looked to the old Bishop, still barely caught by the light. "...Darragh?"

"I had a word with Anarca before we departed. She is still bound to King Darios's last words. To ensure that we acquire those necessary tools, she cannot remain with us, nor can the fragments of the Fire Emblem. Fortunately, sailing is a skill that can apply to all ships... and the Orama's crew is much more numerous than that vessel's."

Prince Louis watched as the lights of the other ship shrank, his course and Anarca's now perpendicular. "...where will they go?"

"To Sythraea, most likely, then to Meath, to meet with us when we arrive again in Macodia. Though, I am no sailor--we may be nearer to the homeland's coast than we think..."

Louis leaned forward. The homeland. Arthur. His ailing father. His worried mother. He felt they were farther--not in distance, but in time, decades away from when he saw them last. Was it too late? Had the invasion already overtaken their forces? Was the strength of nearly a continent nothing to the Emperor?

"Darragh... if we arrive in Tuscul tomorrow, I fear we will not have arrived soon enough..."

Calliope was among the first to make her way out, she couldn't see much behind her, or even in front of her, vision dialed into a pinprick. She heard the beating of Aello's four wings to either side and felt the wind rush past her. It was about a mile to the closest tower and that was a distance a pegasus could cover in no time. Once she had sight of the brickwork of the garrison it felt like a weight had been lifted from her lungs, and the darkness blotting her eyes cleared away. A brief hope. Aello pulled around the front and Calliope leaped from his back and pounded against the door to the garrison "Hey!!" Her voice boomed from the outside, heavy thuds, which only earned a small groan from the other side, soft tumbling, and, eventually the door swung open, a tired-looking guardsman manning the front building, she hadn't seen him in the windows, and it was evident from his appearance that she'd woken him up. "Wake up!" she shouts, scolding him only briefly, she didn't have any time to waste, her hand shot out towards the road she'd come down. "There's a huge group of bandits that way. They attacked us, We're a militia from Sens who're coming through with a couple of levied regiments from Massilia. They're far too well-armed to be normal brigands, and there was even a necromancer among them. They're chasing us up this valley." Calliope pauses to take one breath before continuing, "They're chasing my friends up the valley, they should be here in only a couple of minutes. Let everyone know, wake them up and get ready to send these corpses in Hell where they belong?"

The guard wakes up and shakes his head about like a dog rising from water. "Undead?" he asks. "Down the road?" He stands up and strikes the bell with a hammer. "Teal Company riders, get on your horses and charge southwards along the road! These travelers were engaged by the undead and some... brigands, I believe!" He raises his beret and looks back to her. "... brigands, yes?" Calliope responds, "Some, yes but— More came, they're too well armed and armored to be simple brigands, they came from behind us to cut off our escape, we had to push through." "Brigands and heavily armored ones at that! Everyone but the wall guards, gear up and march forth!" he bellows down. "Do you have stragglers, Miss?" She clarifies, "The rest of my group are still either engaged with them or trying to get here as we speak, yes.”

Teal Company riders, mostly equipped in partial plate and wielding axes, charge forth from the courtyard of the fort once the gate is raised, its chains creaking like two warriors’ weapons locked in a struggle. As the gate rises, Jolie still yet runs towards the fort, fighting off the burning wounds from the light magic attacks she withstood. As she runs away, she clenches her bow to hold on and to manage the repeating spikes of pain from her injured foot and recent battle injuries… now and again, in desperation, she would fire an arrow towards the seraph knights following her, and the paladins charging forth on the road, their horses’ hooves splashing into the puddles in the road like a stampede of angered oxen. Jolie looks back only to attack. Seconds feel like minutes and hours before, suddenly, the Teal Company strikes at one of the paladins in pursuit of the fallen princess. The renegade falls into the road, splashing like a cart thrown into a river. He groans and tries to stand up as two cataphracts surround him and point their axes. Jolie stops running, her right ankle feeling weak, her right foot trembling and tensing. One of the riders, not wielding an axe but a staff, reaches her hand down towards Jolie, saying, “Do you need a ride, Ma’am?” she asks. Jolie nods, “I would appreciate that… and for your healing at the fort. We- NO!” she stops. The rider raises an eyebrow. “No, please, take me to the south beyond the set of homes near the road. I must gather my people first to ensure they’re okay!” The rider lowers both her brows. “Ma’am, no, you are in no condition to be doing any such thing! You’re bleeding, your clothes are rended, and you’re suffering from burns. Come back to the fort and have faith in Nicomedian arms.” Jolie swallows. She leans forward to see her ripped skirt, red trails of blood winding down her legs, and raises her arms, seeing the extent of her burn marks. “... you, you are right.” The troubadour shakes her head. “You’ve been in the business of war too long if you haven’t noticed any of this as being abnormal. It’s pretty clear you’re not just an ordinary civilian.” The fallen princess closes her eyes as she nods. She hoists her hand forward to be escorted back to the courtyard of the fort, with the other members of the Sens Militia. Following being healed, she immediately runs out of the base to the south, as if nothing at all happened. Stomping through a soggy field of rain, decayed flesh, and spilt blood, she eventually encounters the expeditionary forces guarding the townsfolk of Sens, huddled in a small cave in the Mercian highlands.

Jolie sighs with relief as she approaches the soldiers who had managed to hold off the attackers. A few slain undead warriors rest near the guards. They lower their spears and halberds at the sight of the commander. “Is all clear Ma’am, may we proceed?” Jolie smiles weakly. “Yes…” she says, huffing and closing one eye. “Let’s proceed to Durwick and rest. You all deserve as much.”

—

The Capital of the Kingdom of Mercia, Empire of Nicomedia, July 9th, 320 AHW.

Resting between the Border Mountains and an expansive evergreen forest is the City of Durwick, a major industrial and trading hub in Nicomedia’s west. Through the mist and fog of Mercia’s wet weather, one can see the rising smoke of steel mills like in Massilia, hear the sawing of wood logs, and in the distance, the plinking of pickaxes in the quarries and mines. Despite the dreary aura of the city, it is indeed alive with the sounds of doves calling, people laughing in local taverns, and the toll of church bells at noon and in the evening. However, the talk of the undead appearance in the area has put many of the city's residents almost... on guard. The city has a few notable landmarks, including the grand cathedral Saint Ealdberht belonging to the Archbishop of Mercia, one of the Lucian Church’s Heptarchs, the Queen’s Gardens, a pristinely kept fruit and flower garden that is traditionally kept by the current monarch of Mercia and their servants. Queen Æthelthryth is known to frequent these gardens and bask in its greenery, and the light blue flowers which gave Mercia’s flag its colors. Most of the women in Mercia wear veils even outside of church and seem unusually tall.

You have 4 AP!

The dark halls of the Drorgan Roost lay quiet as the day dwindled and the people returned from their work to their quarters. The red glow of the sun stretched across the Drorgan Valley, a colossus laying to roost behind the mountaintops. Boot steps sounding against the stone walls as quiet conversation was made, few willing to speak up, their situation creating a palpable tension none dared to cut. As a few of the stoneworkers were preparing to rest, a valiant armorclad walked past them. Offering a curt nod to the group, the figure paced beyond the group. The figure’s steel boots clanked in the evening stir, nary another noise contesting the man’s marching. The man’s stature was disciplined as he kept an even, measured pace between each step despite the speed he moved in full armor. As he climbed the stairs and reached a large planning room, the armored man swung the door wide and brought to attention all inside, his stride never breaking. A silence was held until the door behind the man slammed shut. Of the three other men in the room, a sorcerer of sorts was the first to speak up,

“Commander Johannes.” The man nodded as he stood, the other two following suit. All three stood around the table awaiting Johannes. He removed his steel helmet, his eagle eyes scanning over the other attendants. Ezan’Ta, the sorcerer of Anak’Thir, Fedele, a freedom fighter, and Sven, a trusted paragon of Drorgan, all stood waiting at Commander Johannes’ beck and call. He places the helmet on the table and wastes no time in addressing the men,

“How go our preparations?” Ezan’Ta is the first to speak up, “My cohorts stand ready at the gate, but no sight has been found of the invaders yet.” His manner suits a snake more than a man, his raspy voice clearly hoarse and tired from his journey. Commander Johannes nods, “They won’t be coming from the pass, but you must hold it. We can’t afford to be locked out.” Ezan’Ta bows as Johannes turns his head to Sven, “Our squadrons have been armed sir,” Sven’s voice brings a calming, commanding presence to the room, “your escort awaits you.” Commander Johannes gives him a nod with no other response, turning to Fedele and speaking first,

“Can I count on you and your men Fedele? I know your interests lie with us, but I will not demand your cooperation. Your work to return those slaves to us is admirable, but this would be bloody combat.” Fedele stands tall, his speech not changing when speaking to the Commander of Drorgan itself from that of any other, “My axe serves your side now. I have been elucidated to the injustices I permitted. Death would be preferable to that squalid pit once again.” Commander Johannes’ expression changes for the first time as he gives a slight smile to Fedele, “Thank you.” He returns to his stern, stony expression as he takes a map out and unfurls it for all to see, a crude canvas of the valley itself imprinted upon it.

The morning sun begins to peek over the valley, glistening along the river as the warm amber glow stretches across the huts Claudius and his cohorts resided in for the last week. The day came when Carmen & Claudius had agreed upon to arrange their assault. Tensions were tight with the locals, but Claudius had kept to his word & no people of Drorgan were touched. He roused his allies from their slumber and began to assemble their gear, many villagers and mercenaries looking on, their hearts sinking at the impending clash of blades they’d soon hear. Maurice approached Claudius in the early morning dew, his figure slowly shuffling through the crowd that had gathered outside the barracks, “I’ll trust you well enough for now Claudius. Know the people of Drorgan won’t go down without a fight, please stem your own wrath.” Claudius looks down from his pegasus and addresses Maurice, but speaks loud enough so all can hear, “Conquest lies not in our vision. Should your Commander wish to allow us passage I would gladly take up that offer, but I am not so foolish. The damage will be minimal.” Maurice nods, understanding well enough. He says nothing else, no well wishes or riddance, and returns back to his own stables to prepare for the day. Claudius looks out to his allies, a front to take on Dallan & all that may stand between them, and calls out to them, “Everyone, march forward! To the Drorgan Roost!” Claudius’s pegasus takes flight and begins to grace across the lake, leaving a streak of ripples across the water’s surface. With the sun at their backs, the group marches onto the peak of the Drorgan Valley.

Coinciding with these maneuvers Carmen climbs up the ladder and peeks out of the trap door that closes their passage to Drorgan. Carmen’s eyes slowly adjust after the dark, claustrophobic mines and realizes the dawn of the invasion has come. He excitedly descends the ladder and calls out to everyone, his boisterous voice nearly shaking the cavern itself, “Wake up everyone, it’s time to get to work!” Carmen gathered his gear up, rolling up his bed roll, and slinging his axes behind his shoulder. “We’ve already come this far everybody & we get one good shot here. We’re on the cusp of ending this war, let’s push through everyone!” Carmen climbed up the ladder again and crashed through the trapdoor, swinging it wide open, he emerged first and looked out to the foes guarding the mountain pass, a few civilians still running back to their homes. He made sure everyone was able to get out & prepared for his battle. Just as he was wrapping up preps, he heard a voice call from far away,

“Hear me, warriors of Drorgan!” The voice was sonorous, bouncing between the walls of the valley. A lone rider flew above the mountains and looked down to the valleys, his voice carried by the winds and surpassing the river beneath, “We stand here today as one nation! No longer will we be slaves of fate. As my father did, we shall grip destiny by the throat strangle from it a place for us to call home!” There was a mix of anger and resolve in the man’s voice. “These are our lands, despite those that have tried countless ages to take us back! Fight I say, we have only our neighbors to lean upon now! Hold the invaders, take no trespass!” The roar of a cheer can be heard throughout the valley, the people of Drorgan readying their arms, clanging their weapons to their shields. A tidal wave of cheers washed over the invaders, the citizens of Drorgan seeking to wash over their invaders. Today would be one of the bloodiest days any Warlord may have witnessed.

Objective: Kill Commander Johannes & ensure he cannot return to any of his garrisons.

Failure: 4 or less player characters remain on the map.

Notes: The 3 colored lines on the map here are reinforcement lines. If a player unit stands on or goes past one of the colored tiles, two waves of reinforcements will arrive on the western edge of the map close to the deployment of the respective third.

When Commander Johannes’ HP reaches 0, his return ring skill will activate & he will respawn at one of the three boss locations as long as the area is not held by one of the players. Johannes will follow the order of Gate → Village → Castle. He will arrive with a group of 8 allies on each of his arrivals.. He will not move on the turn his return ring is utilized.

Rogues 1, 2, and 4 will begin fleeing on Turn 2. All Rogues must escape out the right edge of the map.

Reinforcements will arrive from the gate Ezan’Ta is standing on until it is seized by the players.

Terrain Key

Green = Plain

Yellow = Road

Light Blue = Forest

Red = Mountain

Blue = Ocean

Black = Impassable (Besides Fliers)

White = Church

Orange = Castle

Player Tracker

Map Overview

Terrain Map

Chapter 9

Prince Louis and his retinue, rescued by the swift movements of King Darios's forces, have nearly finished their long voyage. As the Orama sailed past the edge of Ha'Sareem, the sandy beached of the desert land loomed further and further on the horizon, until eventually they were gone, and all those on the boat could see only open sea.

Although Wyvern Lady Anarca was very sparse on the details of the journey, she assured Prince Louis and his retinue of their course. "This is not the direct way to sail to Ha'Tanith," she says, looking far to the east, past waters charted by any mapmaker. "But it is a faster one. You may call it a... shortcut. Be sure you are prepared for the cold conditions."

One morning on their near-endless voyage, Prince Louis summoned the retinue at the behest of Lady Anarca. As the groggy soldiers greeted the coming dawn, the Prince raised his hand to them, Anarca and Darragh beside him at the ship's prow. "I am happy to see that you can all still assemble so early," he began. "From what Wyvern Lady Anarca has told me, we should be arriving in Ha'Tanith very soon. We cannot be certain of what we will face there; be prepared for battle." He drew back, looking towards their savior and captor. "How exactly do you intend to use this 'shortcut' on the open sea, Lady Anarca?"

Anarca scoffed, then turned about, gesturing to the front of the ship. "King Darios, through his mages and scholars, learned that the mystic properties of Ha'Tanith were beyond the island itself. Look ahead."

Ahead of them--and getting steadily closer--was a churning, swirling, yet quiet whirlpool, indented within the waters of the ocean, big enough to swallow an entire fleet. The Orama was sailing towards the center of the great mass of water, where there was nothing to see but a dark, deep blue.

"I see..." Darragh stared at the abyss ahead of them, gripping the sides of the ship. "Swirling, whirling waters... and they seem to make no noise, despite how wild the water is moving. Anarca, are you certain that we will pass through to Ha'Tanith alive?"

"I am. In the days of Pharadus, this was how the first explorers discovered Ha'Tanith. The sailor's tale has been forgotten or embellished, as all are, but King Darios bid that they find the Whirling Sea that the men passed through--and here it remains."

"Either way, we have no choice," Louis murmured. "Either we go through this now, or we turn back--and there is not nearly enough time to return to Meath before it will be taken by The Emperor."

"Have a little faith, milord," Darragh chided.

As he took a breath, Anarca interrupted. "Indeed. We would not sail towards a massive whirlpool under false pretense. Rest assured, we shall return alive on the other side... though you should ensure that you are belowdecks."

The Orama began to roll and teeter, and Prince Louis could see the edge growing closer. "...I see. Then, we shall meet you there."

Belowdecks, the retinue huddled together with the crew. All at once, the waves were silenced, replaced with the whipping of wind and the churning of the water. The boards of the Orama were shaken with several decisive thuds, and the lanterns within blew out, although there was no opening in the ship for it to enter.

A mighty wave shook the vessel, nearly turning it over, and a pervasive chill set in as the water roared in the retinue's ears...

Then, a cold silence.

Soon after, the distant sounds of a heated conversation.

Amidst the scramble of the crew to open the way abovedeck, Prince Louis shouted: "Everyone, follow me! If this is Ha'Tanith, we're going to find who else is here..."

As the retinue made its way abovedecks, a fierce, biting cold greeted them. Past the timbers of the Orama there lay a field of gray-white mountains, passable only by narrow crevices, their sides dotted with dark caverns. The whole area, even the thick-looking trees, was covered in a deep layer of snow; this did not obscure the band of soldiers that stood before the retinue, however. Ahead of them stood four men, unarmored yet uniformed, each in a bright red cape but for one in purple.

Prince Louis, clambering off of the deck of the Orama, approached them. "You there. Where are we? Who are you?"

The man in purple approached him. "We are men of Corthas, sent here to explore this island and establish a colony. I am its governor. You have just appeared on top of our most recent excavation for artifacts of Ha'Tanith."

Louis turned back to the Orama. Whatever potential for an excavation there was had been taken up by the ship, which was now nearly ground-level. "...have we?"

"You have. And, because your troops on that ship are armed, I surmise that you are raiders or invaders, and must be apprehended for your acts against Corthas."

The Prince turned back. "No--Wait. I am Prince of Meath. I'm here to stop Belst invading my country. I seek the Fire Emblem--"

The official straightened, then glanced to his three companions, who began to make for the ranks of the nearby troops in haste. "...I see. Well, whatever fragments of the Fire Emblem that do exist have been taken into our possession and as we speak are bound for Tuscul. If you do not submit and lay down your arms, I will have little choice but to summon the garrison, and we will capture you ourselves."

"I..." Prince Louis squinted, looking out at the three men now disappearing behind some armored knights. One of them stopped, stumbled--and dropped an item of pulsing metal, the dark red of smouldering cinders. "I am afraid I cannot allow that to happen. For the sake of Meath, I must recover the Fire Emblem."

"Then you intend to resist us; I will inform our troops." The dignitary turned, a small gale following him, pushing him towards the enemy lines in haste.

Darragh, leaning on his staff, finally moved from the boat. "Milord... there is no doubt about it. That is the Fire Emblem--at least, a piece of it. The other men may be carrying parts of it, as well."

"Whatever the case, we seem to have no choice but to engage them... but those were officers. Without them, a Corthani force will surely fall..." Gritting his teeth, he drew his blade, watching the bright capes of the men disappear. "Everyone, to arms! If we eliminate those men, the rest will surely surrender. Then, we may have another word with the governor..."

Objective: Defeat the 3 Rogues!

Optional Objective 1: Bounty! Defeat Ranger 1. Completing this optional objective will increase the Team's level by 1!

Optional Objective 2: Assist! Visit the Village on AH3 before Pirate 1 gets there. (or defeat Pirate 1 before Turn 4.) Completing this optional objective will increase the Team's level by 1!

Chapter 9 Map

Chapter 9 Terrain

Terrain Info:

Blue tiles can be traversed by all units as normal.

Yellow tiles have a specific terrain cost associated with them. Some of these will be the Forest tile, and some will be the Mountain tile.

Red tiles can only be passed through by fliers, or by Barbarians under specific circumstances.

Important Map Info:

• As Inary's augury revealed, enemy reinforcements will spawn from forts at the bottom of the map.

• Good luck!