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>>5945726
The heavy oak door creaks open, unveiling a dimly lit, musty brick-grey chamber with an endless spiral staircase disappearing into the darkness. With Silberkralle, your ancestral sword, you firmly gripped the sword in your hand. It is most likely that whatever intentions these individuals harbour are far from virtuous. In times past, your father bravely exterminated a necromantic cult. Lurking in the shadows are dangers that even the most valiant crusader, knight-errant, or adventurer may struggle to overcome, such as undead horrors, treacherous traps, and malevolent spirits.
Among the myriad perils that lurk in the shadows, necromancy stands as a sinister art capable of defying the natural order and raising the dead to serve dark purposes. From disgraced students of the universities and dabbling criminals to more extensive and dangerous networks of the vampire covens. While it may seem logical for them to gather here amidst the corpses and skeletons, they may not be the sole interested party in this foreboding place, hinting at a convergence of disparate forces with divergent aims.
Legends speak of whispers, rumours, and ancient lore surrounding the adherents of the black doctrine, a forbidden sect whose origins trace back to the enigmatic time of Isidor, shrouded in mystery and dark deeds. Schwarzherr's cult and philosophy were the black doctrine. It advocated for things long since forgotten, yet some tenets remain in modern civilization. Their tenets include the establishment of a magocracy, the subjugation of all under the tyrannical rule of the Schwarzherr, the utilisation of necromancy and other forbidden magics to achieve dominion, and a vehement disdain for the constraints of lawful governance. In the dominions of the Schwarzherr, it was said that no semblance of law existed except that which aligned with his tyrannical will.
To this day, whispers persist among those seeking to free Schwarzherr from his extraplanar prison. Some hope for rewards, while others see his example as a guide on how to do things. Others are more interested in tearing a rift in the fabric of reality and making a pact with his jailers. The infernal denizens of Atria Tormentorun are as amicable to the gods as they are to him, and they see the mortal realm as great hunting grounds.
You have been descending the spiral stairs for a good few minutes now. If you have to guess, you are already deep under Sternheim. Indeed, cities in this world can be as perilous as the ruins and dungeons that the vagabonds explore. Being a young town, Rittersbach lacks the history and time to develop its own secrets and mysteries. It is said that in the oldest cities, you can spend your life delving into the underground tunnels, catacombs, and halls. Some serve as shelters for outcasts, criminals, and undesirables, while others function as ancient vaults and storerooms for the city's elite, offering free treasure if unclaimed.

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>>5945728
But neither for here nor for now, you have someone to catch, and thankfully, the person you are looking to catch does not have many options. The staircase comes to an end through an open archway. By now, you have descended so far that you can feel the earthy chill creeping through the grey walls. As you step through the archway, the dim light reveals a vast chamber filled with ancient statues and effigies from centuries past. The air is thick with dust and the scent of decay, hinting at the secrets hidden within these ancient walls.

Your steps reverberate as you make your way down the corridor. At this point, you are uncertain if you are ever going to find that figure in the robes, but as luck would have it. You find what you are looking for.

Chanting, in a distinct manner from the familiar hymns sung in church, carries a sense of foreboding and heaviness in the underground room. It exudes an eerie and slightly unsettling quality that sets it apart.

You begin to walk slower so as not to attract their attention. And you lean against the wall so you can peer from behind it.
They are in a circular room—about five or six of them. All dressed in the same black robes. They are also arranged in a circle, concentrating something—perhaps an energy source? The thing is too bright to make out. The chanting is in a language that is too obscure for you to make out. It sounds harsh, alien, and crude. A black tongue, if you ever heard one.

Your hand is almost breaking the grip of your sword. And you feel your face heating up with something—excitement, hatred, or perhaps a sense of danger?
>I should not be here alone; I should bring back some others to assist me.
>No guts, no glory. Time to charge in and cut them down.
>They seem rather…distracted by their ritual. I could perhaps sneak up on them.

>>5945729
>They seem rather…distracted by their ritual. I could perhaps sneak up on them.
Welcome back Kees.
Van de Zuiderbuur.

>>5945729
>They seem rather…distracted by their ritual. I could perhaps sneak up on them.

>>5945729
>>They seem rather…distracted by their ritual. I could perhaps sneak up on them.

From what you can remember of your father's court wizard's lessons, magical rituals typically require the caster in question to concentrate to such an extent that one is unable to sense the outside. In many conflicts, assassinating war wizards is a strategic tactic used to level the playing field. There have been plenty of tales about heroes slaying the evil necromancer or lich in direct combat, but there are also enough tales of men who use their wit to infiltrate and then assassinate the magic user in question. St. Livius was one such man, who in 734 managed to sneak into and then kill the Necromancer Udroringci. Udroringci was far too busy commanding his undead army to notice the intruder until it was too late.

Therefore, you should emulate this example. You have already drawn Silberkralle, and the silver blade gleams with a thirst for blood. Now, channelling the spirit of St. Livius, you will employ your cunning and stealth to outwit the necromancer and strike at the most opportune moment. In battles against evil forces, strategic thinking can prove to be as potent as physical strength.

You keep close to the wall at first; perhaps the legends exaggerate; perhaps it is a sense of caution that you keep instilled in magic users. You keep to the shadows, using the dark hooded travel cloak you have been wearing to obscure yourself even further.

As you slowly approach the circle in the centre, the chanting grows louder and louder. Far too loud for a mere six people to sing. It begins to reverberate inside your mind, giving you an uneasy headache. Yet you feel your patience flee as you come closer and closer. And by the time you are within reach, you feel the urge—the urge to shed blood.

With a roar more fitting for an animal of the far-off savannahs, you behead the first one with a ferocious strike; the second one does not notice it as you callously slit open his throat. You feel like a predator, and these people are your prey.

The third one, at least, is aware enough to look you in the eyes as you disembowel him. The fourth and fifth ones share the same fate: impaled on your blade. After you had impaled the fourth one, you used your great strength to push through to the fifth one and impaled him in the same manner.

The last one was at least back to her senses long enough to attempt an escape, but you don't need a weapon to kill. And thus, you strangled the witch with great prejudice. In the reflection of her eyes, you could catch a glimpse of yourself. A red-hot countenance, hair in a mess, wild, hateful eyes, and a snarling mouth.

And then, as you return to normal, the chanting is as quickly gone as it had appeared. And you feel strange, ashamed even. When you manage to stand again, you pull the heirloom weapon from the corpses, and to your disgust, it is covered in blood and parts of viscera.

Worse still, the energy has not subsided yet, it is weaker now, but it still glows. Whatever it is, you will most likely never know.

(1/2

>>5945777
>Leave, now. That thing could be a bomb or something worse.

>I must stay here, if anything comes from beyond, it is my duty to destroy it.

>>5945778
>Leave, now. That thing could be a bomb or something worse.

>>5945778
>>I must stay here, if anything comes from beyond, it is my duty to destroy it.

>>5945778
>>I must stay here, if anything comes from beyond, it is my duty to destroy it.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

A tie, time to roll.
1: Leave

2: Stay here

>>5946304
I changed my vote. I want stay.

>>5946331
Oh sorry, but I have already written about sixteen paragraphs with the other option. So I hope you don't mind.

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Whatever that thing was, it is not worth remaining around for. The sinister nature of this ritual permeated every aspect of it. And you don't want to remain here to see what will happen.

As soon as you reach the staircase, you check yourself and your clothes for splatters of blood and other incriminating blemishes, ensuring no evidence ties you to the grim scene you just left. Even if these men were criminals, you cannot be certain that you would get away with it. Some cultists have friends in high places, and while you are certain that you would be acquitted on status alone, the diplomatic incident would be an embarrassment for your father's reign.

The mithril sword cleans itself by nature, so at least one loose end is tied up. As for the rest, you calm yourself down, run your fingers through your hair so that it has at least some structure, and cover the stains in your clothing with the travel cloak. The cloak itself is clean enough, and the dark colour of the fabric hides the few stains well enough.

As you make your way back up to the surface, you attempt to make sense of what exactly happened. You have a temper; you know that. Usually, it takes more than just standing in front of someone to provoke it. Was it the magic? The chanting? You will most likely never know, but whatever it is, it makes you uncomfortable. It was something beastly, as you know for certain.

When you reach the nave of the cathedral again, you make your way from the nave to a pew in the back, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. You pray for protection against evil and dark sorcery, seeking forgiveness for potentially tainting the consecrated ground with blood. In a gesture of penance, you leave a significant amount of coin on the offering plate, hoping for absolution.

As you begin to move towards the exit, you meet the unmoving gaze of the statues and paintings of the cathedral, of saints, martyrs, and other holy people. They look at you in silence, and while you are unable to break the silence, you have a feeling that they don't judge you.

From the outside, the cathedral is a magnificent structure with towering spires and intricate stained glass windows, but on the inside, you can see its true beauty with its painted ceilings and the light of the stained glass. But that is neither here nor now. You are hungry, sweaty, and tired. It is time to return to camp, to wash yourself, and to eat something. In these clothes, you are too suspicious to stop by a tavern for a quick meal.

(1/?)

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>>5946358
You swiftly ascend onto Wittekind, your loyal destrier, the leather creaking under your weight. Urging him forward with a gentle nudge, you gallop back to camp, the wind whipping through your hair as the familiar landscape rushes past. No one looks at you, even with the hood and cloak, or even at the speed you are going. The thing is, after all, a finespun fabric of satin, not the rough homespun that the common man dresses in. Even to the city guards, it is clear that you are someone who could potentially ruin their careers if they were too rough. You do slow down when you reach the gates of the city.

But as soon as you are clear of the guards and the other traffic, you quickly pick up the pace again. Wittekind loves to gallop at great speed; the magnificent white stallion was aware of what he was bred for from day one. A true knight's steed with the temper of his master. Only you are allowed to ride; others may merely lead and feed him. A gift from your father for your thirteenth birthday, you have ridden him since he was a pony. Ehrenfierd considers him to be the most unruly horse he has ever seen, and more than one unlucky stablehand has lost the end of his finger to his teeth. Thankfully, he is most agreeable to you and the people who regularly feed him.

(2/?)

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>>5946360
And as soon as you return to the camp, you park him by his private haystack and retire to your tent. You give your face a wash, eat an apple, and settle in for a short nap. You know you are going to need your strength for the long trek ahead. You drift off to sleep, dreaming of the adventures that await you on the journey.

When you woke up again, it was almost time for dinner; the camp cooks were already preparing a meal for the soldiers. You were also looking forward to dinner, and in the meantime, you had properly washed yourself and were now making the round with Ehrenfried. You wanted to make sure everything was in order before sitting down to eat.

What you did not want were any unexpected visitors. Which is exactly what you got.

''Looks like we got company.'' Ehrenfried observed that the stranger rode on a horse, staff in hand, and dressed in the golden tabard bearing the arms of his master. A black double-headed eagle on a field of gold. Only one man in this country could bear that as his crest. And his herald had come to your camp.

The herald spoke, ''Wer von euch ist der Herr dieser Armee? Ich bringe das geschriebene Wort seiner Majestät, des Kaisers.'' The written word of the emperor? A letter, then. But what does he want?

''What in heaven is he doing here? I have done no offence to the Kaiser'' You whispered in discussion with Erhenfried.

''I think his majesty would like to know why you set up camp in his backyard.'' Ehrenfried pondered.

''We don't have any other choice then.'' You turned and walked up to the herald. ''Ich bin der Herr von dieser Armee.'' The herald dismounted and walked up to you. ''His Majesty's compliments, sir. In this letter, you can find your summons and a letter of introduction.''

''But why does his majesty summon me? I have done no great deeds; I am not one of his subjects. I am merely answering the call to crusade.'' You told the Herald.

''That may be so, but his majesty has made it a habit of receiving the highborn travellers that pass through his estates. He wishes for your appearance in court tomorrow. Preferably before midday. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to return to my lord.''

''Of course, you have my lead to go hither and return to your lord.'' The herald made a short bow and returned to his steed.

You take a look at the seal—a double-headed eagle with an inescutcheon with an eight-pointed star on it. From that alone, you can verify its authenticity. You break open the wax seal and read the summons first; those are simply some instructions on how to introduce yourself and that you should show them to any courtier or guard who questions your presence.

You then fold open the letter written in a refined calligraphy that not even your mother could master. This is most likely written by the Emperor himself. A scribe would write in a simpler font.
(3/4)

>>5946362
I extended my greetings to you, Albrecht von Adlershorst.

You have appeared in my personal estates without any prior notification of your arrival, but that is not of any concern. I trust your journey was smooth, you are well rested, and you will continue towards your destination in good health. I do hereby offer you my hospitality during your stay, at least for a day. I understand that the crusade is a calling far greater than the summons of an emperor; however, I consider it a courtesy to extend my hospitality to the highborn guests who travel through my realm, and I hope that you will accept my offer graciously.

Singed,

His imperial and royal majesty, Ludwig the Third, by favour of divine mercy, august emperor of Tautenland.

''Well, it is settled then. You have to answer him. There is no sneaking away in the night with this one; we are too deep in this territory.'' Ehrenfried told you.

''It is what it is.'' You nodded in agreement. ''I have to meet him then'' , you declared with a sense of determination. Meeting the Emperor: has a progeny of the house of Adlershorst ever done such a thing? Has the Emperor ever heard of the name von Adlershorst? Presumably, he has heard of the realm your father carved out in Greifswald, but he has likely never met a member of your family in person. Well, then, that is something you're about to change.

But before you go to sleep, you should make certain that you have the right clothes ready. The choice of clothing can say a lot to people, and you should make your choice with great care.

>I have someone polish my armour and prepare my best tabard, I will appear as a true knight.

>Fetch my most fashionable clothing and jewellery, among the high nobility, one must dress to impress.

>Bring me my formal robes, in my capacity as the heir to the duchy of Greifswald.

>>5946364
>I have someone polish my armour and prepare my best tabard, I will appear as a true knight.

>>5946364
>Fetch my most fashionable clothing and jewellery, among the high nobility, one must dress to impress.

>>5946364
>>I have someone polish my armour and prepare my best tabard, I will appear as a true knight.

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''Tell someone to polish my armour and prepare my best tabard, the tourney one. Make certain my helmet is adequately decorated as well.'' You told an attendee.

Normally, a squire would do it for you, but you have never had the time to find a suitable one. While you could simply pluck a random farm boy from the fields, you would be his knight and teacher, and you would not be about to drill the average noble child's mandatory lesson on accounting, dancing, and other such things, which took up your youth into someone who would most likely need to learn all that in five or six years.

''And what do you suppose he is like?''Someone at the table asked. News of your summons spread through the camp like wildfire. It would be of no use to keep quiet, considering how the herald had boldly rode into camp with admirable bravado. But the heralds typically have immunity as they are the official messengers and diplomats of their lords.

Whoever asked that question does have a point, you thought as you took another bite from the piece of rabbit. You know precious little about the emperor. From what you recall from your conversation with your sister in Goslaren, the emperor is supposed to be relatively young and interested in the reform of the legal system. Aside from that, you don't know much else; from your general knowledge of the Kaisers of Tautenland, they were elected. Though, in practice, they usually come from the same dynasty until it goes extinct. You suppose that Ludwig III is the latest in the line of rulers.

When the morning comes, you feel both excited and nervous. This is something exceptional; to come before the sovereign of a nation, any nation is a great honour. Even more so for one of the great powers of the continent. You can't help but wonder if you will make a good impression.

(1/2)

>>5946710
When you make your approach up the hill to the imperial castle, you feel the high and old chambers and towers weigh down on you. It oozes royal authority in a way few places can match. It has impressive fortifications. The guards at the gate eye you warily, their armour gleaming in the morning sun. As you are escorted, at first from the courtyard, which, to your surprise, is completely cobbled, through the grand halls, you can't shake the feeling of being a part of history. Here, the emperors reign, the imperial princes vie and scheme, the courtiers make merry, and all the maidens are fair. It is with great interest that you let your eyes glide from one tapestry to another, from a painting to a statue, and back again. It is like the Albrechtsburg back home, only bigger and stuffed to the brim with courtiers and art. Your father's court seems sober compared to this one. But it also leaves you with a question: if this is the imperial court of Tautenland, then how opulent is the one in Mithras?

To your surprise, as well as how many other races are employed here as well, at several places, dwarves were busy improving or preparing parts of the walls and structures. Elves could be seen tending to a garden covered in glass, half-scurrying about with drinks and food. And even some orcs could be seen carving out the hunting trophies and tending to the hunting hounds. All of them could be found in the livery of their lord; they all wore it over their armour.

Your escort then halts before a set of grand double doors, adorned with intricate carvings and golden trim. He hands one of the two guards your summons, and the doors swing open to reveal the opulent hall of the castle, where the Emperor awaits your arrival.

Before you can make your way down the carpet, the herald from yesterday emerges from behind a pillar with a friendly expression on his face.

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>>5946716
''As you are a foreigner and thus not a subject of his realm, you are not required to bow or kneel before him,'' he says with a smile. ''Instead, you must simply walk to the end of the carpet and present yourself to his majesty with a courteous lowering of the head.''

And so you do. You slowly approach the emperor with a carefully paced march, helmet in hand, until you are standing directly in front of him. As you walk, you can feel the gazes of the assembled nobles burning into your back, but you keep your head held high and maintain a calm demeanour. Some are envious, others disapprove; the younger members of the court seem to admire you as some kind of knight-errant; the older courtiers are split between those who consider your family an upstart and the ones who can appreciate a good and clever new house.

''Eure Majestät, I have answered your summons, and thus I now present myself for you. I would wish to know the reason for my summoning and how I may be of service to you.'' You announce with a lowering of your head.

''Service, perhaps it is best of all parties involved that you keep your service to your true liege-lord. It would not be wise to serve anyone else; that simply complicates matters.'' The emperor said with a chuckle. In truth, you had expected someone older, but he is barely older than you. But his presence and authority are undeniable. A faint smile rested upon his countenance, more or less emulating the air of a friendly monarch making small talk with subjects.

>You majesty, I merely require passage throughout your realm, nothing more nothing less.

>If there are things to discuss let's do it somewhere else.

>I am most honoured by your summons, and I would like to extend my thanks to you.

>>5946722
>I am most honoured by your summons, and I would like to extend my thanks to you.

>>5946722
>I am most honoured by your summons, and I would like to extend my thanks to you.

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>>5946751
>>5947172

''I am most honoured by your summons, and I would like to extend my thanks to you.'' You say with a courteous nod.

''That is all good, but I wish to discuss other matters. The realm needs attending, and I have a few free spots on my schedule, but that does not mean I don't have to meet promising people. Stand.'' As if following his own command, he arises from his throne himself. He is a bit shorter than you, and he has a paler countenance than you have the kind one attains by sitting inside. His seems to be the very image of a young monarch; he has a strong jaw, which reminds you of your father, and calm, glinting sky-blue eyes, like the hue of a clear summer day. From his stance, you can see that he is no warrior, even if his clothes hide most of his figure. Yet you can't help but admire his natural authority and calmness. There is more to kingship than the sword. A monk once said that a true lord was wise in both the ways of the sceptre and the sword. And if you cannot find a king who embodies both qualities, then you must choose wisely which trait is most important to you. And delegate the other responsibility to someone who possesses it. It is clear from the outset which way he chose.

He then makes his way up to you and sizes you up and down. ''I would like for you to follow, please, my lord.'' And in a most uncourteous manner, the Emperor started walking with long strides, cutting straight through the assembled courtiers. Who all hurried to make way. Even the guards had trouble rushing ahead for him to clear the way until he came to a smaller side door. ''Mittkomen, jezt.''

No sooner was the door closed. He starts to walk again. For someone as physically active as you, you had no trouble keeping up with him. Though this manner of walking is usually reserved for taking strolls outside, not for moving around the court. ''Your majesty, if I might ask you something, Why are we moving at such a quick pace? And why did you not formally leave the court? Isn't that against protocol?''

''If I want to go from one location to another, I go at the pace that will get me there quickly, do you understand? Not even slowing down for your question. ''As for your other questions, I do not regard the court as a place where you need to spend too much time; there are other matters that can be better worked on from behind a desk rather than from the throne. It might also be that I have no real warm feelings for the proceedings in court. He informed you in the manner of a schoolmaster instructing a favourite pupil when the two of you finally slowed down in another room. He then turned to the two guards guarding it. ''See to it that the Lord von Adlershorst and I are not disturbed until we emerge from here.'' The guards only answered with a silent nod of obedience.
(1/2)

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>>5947204
The spring sun shone merrily through the small office you found yourself in. The place was nicely organised. Neat stacks of paper and parchment stood on heavy tables. And on one of the display tables lay an unfinished book. When you got closer to it, you saw that it was quite thick and dense. A proper doorstopper or table stabiliser as any.


''Ah, I see you have found my life's work. Well, in the beginning, it was a project of my late father, but I made it mine. It is a lawbook, detailing all the miscellaneous laws of Tautenland and its fiefs. When it is finalised, it shall cover both the laws of the realm and the laws of the princes, dukes, and others who are enfeoffed in this empire of mine. The scribes have already given it a title, the 'Codex Ludovicus' after emperors of old.'' And with a smile, he looked out the window. ''The classical age was one where order and law were held as the highest virtues. Law is a complicated matter; the Isidorian emperors of old said that it both restrains and protects the people from the state, outsiders, and each other. There is much about them that is best left in the dustbin. But a universal law, codified in a script and written by those who can author just and virtuous laws, not the petty whims of the nobility.

''Which is why the crusade is such a godsend.''

>Because it takes the gaze of the church away from you?

>Because the nobles are distracted with glorious crusading?

>Write-in

>>5947206
>Write-in: Because the church and nobility are busy with the crusade it gives you some space to be able to pass this universal law without too much hassle from you political opponents.

>>5947206
>>Because the nobles are distracted with glorious crusading?

>>5947212
+1

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''Because the church and nobility are busy with the crusade, it gives you some space to be able to pass this universal law without too much hassle from your political opponents. Am I mistaken?'' you asses. When the cat's away from home, the mice dance on the floor, as the proverb goes. With a good chunk of the Tauten nobility, or at least their most able warriors, tied up in crusades in Mithras. The balance of power tips in favour of the ones who have kept their troops at home. Like, say, the most powerful man in the realm.

''You got the general picture, but there is more to it than that. The Mithradians and we are not on close terms, as you well know from our history as such. I believe that my presence at the crusade would only complicate matters. I have already received a special dispensation from the pontiff in Portemosa, exempting me from said duty on the grounds that it could jeopardise the relationship between the Crusaders and the Mithradian Court. But I still have matters with them that need to be handled'' He said this as he placed his crown on a cushion. ''A funny thing is that power is not something tangible. Yet we make symbols that symbolise it, in our thrones, crowns, weapons, and magic. But political power is something that you must wield with your mind and tongue. And yet people are more likely to believe in you if you dress in gold and brocade.'' He strokes back the hairs that have been kept in place by the crown before facing you again.

''I have seen the name Adlershorst only three times; the first time was in a heraldic manual of the margraviate of Fluddenmark. The second time was when I looked at the history of the Northern Crusades, where the one who I presumed is namesake made a name for himself, and lastly, when your father wrestled control of Greifswald from the Order of the Argent Stars. Something tells me that you Adlershorst have a drive to succeed, but your unique position within the realm allows you to manoeuvre with a liberty not even I can afford. You are a free agent without any loyalty to any faction within Tautenland, an outsider, but of our countries' blood.That is why I am requesting your aid on a matter of great importance to me. I believe your independence and connections could prove invaluable in this delicate situation. Your ability to navigate political waters without allegiance could be the key to success in this matter. ''

''I require you to deliver a letter of mine to the Cardinal Ottavio di Cremolora, while I understand that might seem to be a mere errant beneath your worth. I believe that this letter would otherwise be intercepted. The cardinal lives in the major port of Pocantello. So you can set sail from there. Additionally, I trust your discretion in handling this sensitive correspondence with the utmost care. I hope I can rely on your honour.''
(1/2)

>>5947477
>''I will grant your request, your majesty.'' You are eager to do what his majesty requires of you.

>''I require more context if you would please.'' This sounds like a round of intrigue, it better you get a better view of the picture. [Will start a persuasion roll]

>''My profound apologies, but I must refuse.'' You are not about to be sucked into the world of Tauten politics

>''Can you provide me with something to aid me?'' If he is eager to give you an assignment you might as well have him support you. [Will start a persuasion roll]

>>5947484
>''I require more context if you would please.'' This sounds like a round of intrigue, it better you get a better view of the picture. [Will start a persuasion roll]
But if we fail the roll then
>''I will grant your request, your majesty.'' You are eager to do what his majesty requires of you.

>>5947484
>>''Can you provide me with something to aid me?'' If he is eager to give you an assignment you might as well have him support you. [Will start a persuasion roll]

>>5947509
+1

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Persuasion roll: His Majesty, Ludwig the Third, most August Emperor of Tautenland, King of the Tautens, etcetera, etcetera.

> Lower Social Standing / Reasonable Request
> 40DC
>Willing to extend goodwill, +5 DC
>Kaiser Ludwig: Able politician +1 Adverse Re-Roll

>45DC

[Spoiler]Double Fail= The emperor is an able politician, and thus he is able to employ the most dangerous abilities of a politician, evading the question with vague answers.[/spoiler]
[Spoiler]0= He doesn't budge, he instead tells you that for your own safety, you should be left in the dark, before quickly sending you on your way. [/spoiler]
[Spoiler]1=The emperor manages to obscure the larger part of his plans, but he does give you one clue about the cardinal [/spoiler]
[Spoiler]2=You are able to pry something out something out of him, mostly relating to cardinal Cremolora and a vague idea of what the letter might contain. [/spoiler]
[Spoiler]3= You somehow manage to play to his weaker spots, and you can gain the complete picture of the letter.[/spoiler]
[Spoiler]Double pass= The Kaiser does consider this a matter of great importance, and thus, he sends something or someone to your camp. [/spoiler]

Three rolls of 1d100 if you would please.

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>5948090
come one.

Rolled 32 (1d100)

>>5948090

Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>5948090
Didnt see the quest return

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>5948098
I am using Ludwig's adverse re-roll to attempt to counter this result.

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>1 Succes: The emperor manages to obscure the larger part of his plans, but he does give you one clue about the cardinal.

There is a bigger picture here at play, but of what? Is the emperor trying to gain support from the church? Is this Cremolora looking for a patron? Or is there a deeper political motive at play? Many questions can be better asked of Cremolora than of the emperor. But you can ask about Cremolora.


But how does one gain information about this man? But how does one gain information about this man? The best place to start would be with his close associates and confidants. But those are most likely in Castana. No, the best place to start would be with Ludwig himself, though you have the suspicion that he is reluctant to give you more information than is necessary.


A thought then pops up in your head: you could play up your youthful inexperience and unfamiliarity with the southern lands and the ecclesiastical politics to gain a sketch not only of Cardinal Di Cremolora but also of Castana. You will pretend to be naive and curious, hoping that Ludwig will let down his guard and reveal more than intended.


''You have to forgive for prying on your secrets, your majesty. I do, but I do believe we need more than your word on this. I am unacquainted with the internal matters of the church. Greifswald is a faraway land from the centre of faith at Portemosa. Even worse, I have never been to Castana, and I do not know about the political situation there. I am afraid I need more to act upon than my gut instinct and your blessing. I would if I could, of course, but you cannot expect the hatchling hawk to fly in a day.''

>>5948292
The man opposite you has already sat down on his chair and seems to be pondering how to answer. He then locks eyes with you, and you see them again; he is good at it. His body language is completely silent, his countenance is as rigid as marble, and his gaze is one of an unmoving, calm ocean. He is a master at maintaining his composure; you know he is filtering his information for your use. His eyes betray nothing, revealing no hint of his internal thoughts or emotions.

Then he speaks.

''What you need to understand about Castana is that every hill is a republic of its own. Every castle has its own liege, and the church is everywhere. The republic part deserves its own explanation, I suppose. Do not act like the commoners are beneath you there; the citizens of those republics consider themselves to be free men and women, independent of any feudal lord.''

He pauses while he strokes his chin, considering his next words carefully.

''The church at present is busy with its own affairs, and with the crusade preparations in full swing, you must forget that the leadership in Portemosa won't personally go on crusades either. They will send their own representatives instead.''

''As for the political situation, Castana is a three-way tug-of-war between the Tautens, the Aurilieans, and the church. I hold sway over the northeast, King Francois in the west, and the church over the south. Some cities and countries have successfully managed to avoid being drawn into the spheres, and it is important that they come over to one side, mine if I could make it happen. But alas, Castana is a land where deadlock has been the preferred state of things since the fall of the old empire.''

>>5948296
He then opened a metal box, from which he produced a small, sealed letter. He looked at it for a minute before handing it to you.

''The letter, take it. I do not ask that you protect it with your life. That would be too much, but if you believe it to be at risk of being opened, I ask that you throw it into a fire or a river. The contents of that letter are of great importance, not just to me but to the future of Tautenland. Its secrets must not fall into the wrong hands.''

He then rises again from his chair and clasps you on the shoulder. Shockingly well, for someone who you thought was a bookish type.

''The best of luck to you, safe travels, and a fortuitous crusade. May the infidel be struck with heavenly fire as Isidor did with his progeny. He made a motion to the door before halting again.''

''I would not be much of an employer if I didn't give you something upfront. Do you have any Reichsthalers? No? Well, these are the main coins of the empire; the sigil makes it good in any part of Tautenland. Your native currency might be good enough to buy supplies, but if you want the good stuff, this might be what you need, catch.''

And you catch the heavy pouch filled with golden coins; they are smaller than the greifs in your homeland, and they all bear the eagle and the profile of the emperor.

Gained: 320 Reichthalers.

''The freshest batch was made by my masters of the mint. I hope it can get you on your way.''

After being treated with a proper midday meal, good heavens that pheasant was pleasant. You find yourself on the road down to either the city or the camp. You leave with as many questions as you have answered. Is Cremolora the church representative, is he the pivot in the politics of Castana, or is he something else? What is he up to? Kaiser Ludwig, are you a convenient messager or the key to completing his plans? Questions, questions, questions. But at least you got some money out of it.

The sun is still hanging high in the sky, and thus the shops have not yet closed. Perhaps you could find something useful there; alternatively, perhaps you could hire someone to help you learn the Castanan language or maybe the Mithradian one as well.

>Let's go to the market district.
>I tyre of this; let me return to camp.
>I should look to hire someone useful.

>>5948299
>>Let's go to the market district.

>>5948299
>I should look to hire someone useful.

>>5948299
>>I should look to hire someone useful.

>>5948299
>I should look to hire someone useful.

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There is a lot you don't know about Castana, and your army might need the help of someone with certain qualities that are currently not being employed within it. Thus, it might seem useful to you to hire someone who can help in such a manner. Thankfully, you are in the capital of an empire, and thus. It should be easy to find some talent.

Thus, you decide to recruit in a nearby inn after giving the innkeeper some lesser bronze coins. Basic qualifications are literacy, a certain level of education in a trade or something else, and the willingness to travel longer distances.

With these standards in mind, you narrow the choices down to a few candidates.

The first is a woman by the name of Gebirg Pflücker. A herbalist who is eager to leave the capital after failing to find employment. She has ample knowledge about the various herbs, fruits, and mushrooms that can be eaten in the wild, a good trait if you are several days removed from society. But she is also afraid of violence and seems to whine about things that make her uncomfortable.

Lorn Radmacher, a dwarven wheelwright and farrier, is the second candidate. who has to seek new employment after his workplace was burned down by a clumsy apprentice of his. He is admirably optimistic about the whole thing because he jokes that the only fatality in the incident was the apprentice. Nevertheless, while you do have smiths who make the horseshoes, he has specialised in them, and a wheelwright would also be handy to repair any carts that break, yet he isn't without his flaws, as a man from another table tells you as soon as he is gone. He is prone to perfecting his work for too long and will get mad if you press him on it too much.

Ulrich Schreiber is the third candidate, an apprentice scribe until his master was run out of the city for standing debts. A clever young lad, he can write both classical languages, Isidorian and Mithradian. Though he can't speak them, he is apparently rather quick with the quill and thus able to write at a good rate. Unfortunately, he had a habit of turning up late to his old workplace and is not much of an early bird.

The last candidate is a doctor. Marco Ebra, a physician by trade from Castana, is currently looking to change employers. He claims to be able to operate on both humans and a variety of animals, primarily horses, mules, oxen, and donkeys. However, he seems to have a habit with the bottle, as you could see when he managed to waste three-quarters of his pay on alcohol. He is also prone to insulting people in his native language, and while you cannot understand it, you do get the idea from the tone of his voice.

At present, you have 320 Reichthalers and 590 Greifs. with a rough exchange rate of one Reichsthalers to 1,40 Greifs

>>5948976

>Hire Gebirg Pflücker, 94 Reichsthalers or 131 Greifs
>Hire Lorn Radmacher, 130 Reichsthalers, will not accept payment in Greifs
>Hire Ulrich Schreiber, 82 Reichsthalers or 115 Greifs
>Hire Marco Ebra, 175 Reichsthalers, will not accept payment in Greifs
>Refuse to hire any of them.

>>5948977
>>Hire Ulrich Schreiber, 82 Reichsthalers or 115 Greifs

>>5948977
>>Refuse to hire any of them.

Sounds like people that will slow us down or cause morale issues.

Perhaps we might have better luck in Castana

Rolled 1 (1d2)

An impasse, time to roll.

1: Hire mr Schreiber

2: Do not hire anyone

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''And you say that your previous employer was run out of the city? Why do you seek to attach yourself to a crusading army? It doesn't seem like the type of employment an apprentice scribe would seek. After all, it is a large enough city with enough employment, so why not take up a clerk's position at the court of justice or the town hall?'' You asked Ulrich Schreiber, a few years older than you in his early twenties.

'' I was nearly finished with my apprenticeship and was preparing to begin on the work that would allow me to advance to the level of a journeyman, but thanks to that wastrel, I am in no position to start. The guild has not been much help either. I have been left standing in the cold because of my past association with him. It seems like there's no way out. he told you glumly.

''I can understand, but that does not explain why you seek to come with us. You can't fight, you told me so yourself.'' You answered him while taking a swig of your tankard.

''My lord, the plan is for me to produce a work of exceptional quality, which will allow me to gain acceptance into the scribes guild. A chronicle of a crusading army would fit nicely, and besides, I can write Isidorian and Mithradian, which can be useful considering your destination. I can also draw; thus, it will be all the more authentic.'' The young man explains with a motion of his hand and a faint smile.

An account of your own travels and campaigns in Mithras is an appealing notion. Not only would you make history, but you would also have the option to write it. Indeed, you could embellish your own deeds there and downplay the achievements of any potential rivals, should you so please. By creating a direct source, you could wrangle the future historical discussion in favour of the dynasty. Not that Schreiber would be concerned with that, he's more interested in gaining his journeymanship by going on adventures.

''Very well, you are hired. But don't come too late. As you aren't a part of the men-at-arms, you will travel with the baggage train. That means with the cooks, carriage drivers, sutlers, and other supporting camp followers.'' You told him.

''Thank you, my lord. I will go and fetch my scant few belongs and head for the camps as soon as I am ready'' The lad suddenly seen full of vigour, as if awakened from a stupor. Before he stands up from his chair and makes for the exit, you throw him a pouch with the agreed sum. As the emperor did with you, so you do with him. Though he nearly loses his footing trying to catch.

In what currency did you pay him?
>82 Reichsthalers
>115 Greifs
(1/2)

>>5949779

And as you find yourself on your horse once more during the afternoon, you discover yourself wondering if he was a good hire. If the stories about his tardiness are true, the army life will shake it out of him. Still, you uncover that as you ride through the streets of this packed city, you do dearly miss your family, your father, your mother, and your younger sister. Brünhilde had left the proverbial nest for far longer, and you had spoken with her not too long ago, yet your heart aches for home.

Oh, land of deep and green woods! How I dearly miss you, how I miss your berries, your wildlife, how I yearn for your wilderness and your simpleness, oh land that shall be my inheritance, may I be worthy of thee. You muse to yourself as Wittekind makes mocking snorts at passersby. Perhaps it should help to put some of it on paper, and so you ride down two lines.

An eaglet spreads its wings to skies unknown,
With heart emboldened, dreams it can't disown,

Huh, it rhymes. You were never one to read copious amounts of poetry; a little bit of it never hurt. It is good entertainment for a rainy day, but you never imagined yourself as a poet. Perhaps it is something for when you are without anything to do or maybe it is a waste of your time.

>Return to camp, it is time to leave.
>Let's buy something in the shops.
>Wander around some more, perhaps you can write some rhymes

>>5949779
>115 Greifs
I think Reuchsthalers are more respected and accepted in many other nations, while Greifs are a bit more difficult.

>Let's buy something in the shops.

>>5949779
>>115 Greifs

>>Let's buy something in the shops.

>>5949779
>>115 Greifs

>>5949780
>Let's buy something in the shops.

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At present, you possess both Greifs and Reichsthalers. As well as two letters of credit your father gave you to pay for passage to Mithra via the sea

Your present possessions of note are:
-Siblerkralle, mithril sword +15DC (equipped)
-Niveiwood lance Doubles Damage on the Charge (only breakable with a double or crit fail) -20AV to enemies (only on horseback)
-Chainmail shirt and Coif +10AV (equipped)
-Great helm +5AV (equipped)
-coat of plates +10AV (equipped)
-heater shield +20AV (equipped)
-Destrier Warhorse 'Wittekind' +10DC(Mounted), +15DC(Charge)

Marktplatz, Sternheim


Stables, farrier, and Saddlers, only accept payment in Reichsthalers.

Palfrey, 280 Reichsthalers
>+15 DC (Mounted)
>+5DC(Charge)

Courser, 290 Reichsthalers
>+10 DC (Mounted)
>+10DC(Charge)

destrier, 315 Reichsthalers
>+10 DC (Mounted)
>+15DC(Charge)

Reshoe Wittekind, 60 Reichsthalers
>+1DC for Wittekind
________________________________________
The bookshops will accept payment in both Reichsthaler or Greifs, (Silver coins are still silver)

Isidorian for laypersons. 24 Reichsthalers or 34 Greifs
>Allows you to learn Isidorian

Lamentations and musings for the empire of yore. 11 Reichsthalers or 15 Greifs
>Poetry bundle about the Isidorian empire

The Chronicle of Tautenland. 33 Reichsthalers or 46 Greifs
>A history compendium about all the Tauten emperors

The pale war. 27 Reichsthalers or 39 Greifs
>The history of a conflict in Venautra about 212 years ago.

The battle of battles, or how the great war between good and evil ended. 29 Reichsthalers or 40 Greifs
>An account of the legendary showdown between schwarzherr and the emperor

The Mithradian alphabet and language are explained. 34 Reichsthalers or 48 Greifs
>Allows you to learn Mithradian

The speartip in the sea. 19 Reichsthalers or 27 Greifs
>A legend about seeing the legendary rooftop of the tower of the Isidorian emperors stick out of the sea.
_________________________________________________________
Blacksmith and Armoury Will only take Reichsthalers.

Masterwork Chainmail shirt and coif, 280 Reichsthalers
>+5DC, +10AV

Dwarven-made hauberk, 278 Reichsthalers.
>+3DC +12AV

Round shield, 190 Reichsthalers.
>+15AV

Kite Shield, 210 Reichsthalers.
>+15AV, +5DC when Mounted

Journeyman-Forged Mace, 220 Reichsthalers.
>+1 Damage if 3 Success

Journeyman-Forged battle-axe, 215 Reichsthalers.
>-10AV to Foe

_____________________________________________
The church of our revered providence

The church accepts payment or ''donations'' as they insist on calling it, in all forms

Blessed amulet 98 Reichsthalers or 137 Greifs
>+1 Combat Re-roll

Sanctified Rosary 65 Reichsthalers or 91 Greifs
>+ 5DC against the undead

Blessing of the war banner 230 Reichsthalers or 322 Greifs
>+10 moral in battle against any infidel.

>>5949986
Oh yes, specify what currency you would like to pay with if that is an option.

>>5949986
>Isidorian for laypersons
>The Mithradian alphabet and language are explaine

>Sanctified Rosary

Greifs

>>5949986
>The Mithradian alphabet and language are explained. 34 Reichsthalers

>Blessing of the war banner
In Greifs

>>5949986
>Sanctified Rosary
>Blessing of the war banner
In Greifs.

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The pouch feels a lot lighter than what you had set out with. Your father had given you enough of an allowance to buy yourself some things aside from the regular funds for the army; now it was nearly empty. You can hear the clinking of the coins as you walk and ride after making your investment. Thankfully, the pouch of Reichsthalers you were given by the Kaiser could prove useful in case you needed to buy something.

The first thing you bought was a comprehensive tome on how to write and read Mithradian, an important thing considering where you are headed. The alphabet of that country is something that you should decipher as well. Schreiber could help you in that regard, but you should perhaps find someone who does speak the language to teach it to you. In the meantime, however, you can content yourself with the learning the basics.

Afterwards, you went to the church. Although you cannot buy anything for them, It became quite clear that in exchange for donations, they would give blessed trinkets or perform special services for those who were in need of them. You managed to donate enough of your money to them that the deacon agreed to give you a sanctified rosary. While normal religious symbols that are commonly found in the jewellery and decorations of people are powerful enough to repel the undead, the rosary actively hurts the undead in a manner that distracts them. If it gets close enough, it is said, it burns them. But it hasn't been tested since it was donated itself, about 153 years ago.

The blessing of the war banner, however, was something you did not want to miss for anything in the world.

A selection of your best troops slowly carried the banner into the church, its colours and heraldtry announcing the presence of your family. The priest took it in his hands and brought it before the altar. There he said a few prayers about the crusade, the men of Greifswald, and the banner. Three times, in front of the altar to Isidor, with the altar to Siegfried, and then to the altar of Saint Lohengrin, known as the swanknight in live and having become the patron saint of the Tauten knights. When this was finished, the priest doused the banner with holy water, then one of them touched it once more and said a prayer, and then, as a test of faith, the red banner was dipped into a fire. If it got out unscathed and unburned, the blessing would be a success.

When the banner got out after about a minute, the assembled crow erupted into cheers.

Krieg!
Krieg!
Heiliger krieg!

Holy war, with a holy banner to guide it, makes you feel like a hero from a book, but you don't need books to live out that fantasy; you can do the real deal. Those fire worshippers will be whispering your name in hushed tones for the next hundred years. You hope, perhaps for the next millennia.

(1/2)

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>>5950894
You went to talk a bit to the priest to thank him. ''Oh, it was nothing, my son. The church has been dealing with these kinds of blessings for as long as it has existed; as a matter of fact, the most ancient flags, standards, and banners are often blessed similarly, though with a more powerful blessing.''


''What do you mean?'' There were tales of old about how the sightings of the legionary standards of the old empire could turn the tide of battle with their appearance. ''A similar blessing binds the oldest of the old banners, though it requires a bit of the monarch's blood to maintain the bond between the banner, country, and monarch. It is often said that the blood of kings is potent and the blood of emperors doubly so. Only certain members of the clergy may perform such rituals. But for the existing blessings, the monarch only needs to give a single drop of their blood. Kaiser Ludwig did so during his coronation. In public, if I recall. The priest went on with his lecture on the nature of such artefacts, about how some regalia are also blessed and enchanted, and other such things, until they went in one ear and out the other. When you finally got to lay down again In your tent, you slept well and easy, dreaming of gallantry, glory, and whether or not Mithradian girls would be attractive or not.


The first point of business after breakfast is the planning of the next destination. You need to get to Castana; ergo, you need to go further south. The only question is what route you should take.

You could take the western route, making your way southwest through the middle and southern fiefs of Tautenland, which is sunny, hilly, and renowned for its local wines. However, they still get blown out of the water by competition from Aurilie, Venautra, and Castana.

The central road will take you straight down to the Castanan border; of particular, not along this route is the Preburger Dom, said to boast the highest church tower in the world. It is also the shortest route; unfortunately, the statelets that lie on the other border have been embroiled in a war with each other, which would make supplying more difficult.

The eastern road will bring you into the mountains much earlier; these fiefdoms are collectively called Steyern and form the southwestern bulwark of the empire. This land is renowned for its good beer, food, and horridly annoying music. It also has multiple gold and salt mines.

>Let's go west, easy weather would do us good.
>Damn the risk, go down through Preburg.
> Let's go east through Steyern.

>>5950896
>Let's go east through Steyern.

>>5950896
>> Let's go east through Steyern.

>>5950896
>Let's go east through Steyern.

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Weiter nach Osten, ins schöne Steyern.

''My lords, I have decided on our next course of action. We shall take the southeastern route through Steyern. I pray that the mountains and valleys will favour us while we march through them.'' You lean back to gain an appraisal of their reactions. Ehrenfried remains carefully neutral in his expression; Gert does as well. Only Werner von Pernmarck, the son of a count in the south of Greifswald, comments. ''Steyern, eh? My pa and I have family there; they brew some good beer there; I tasted it myself, and the girls are the fairest in all of Tautenland, blonde and pale to the last, I swear.'' He may be a year younger than you, but it seems like he's determined to make the most of his youth.

''And pray to tell, Pernmarck, are you telling us this with truth in your heart or do you get blissfully drunk at the mere mention of Steyern?'' You asked half-mockingly; usually, he doesn't shut up about the damn place for hours on end, telling one and all about the grand mountains, the picturesque village valleys, and the buxom maidens. The way he makes it sound, Steyern is a land where you can draw beer from a well, get roasted pork from the trees, and the girls line up to dance and kiss. Which is all well and good, but you hope that your trip through there will be uneventful.

In the background, young Schreiber is already busy noting down various notes and records. His quill provides some welcome background noise when the seated council falls silent. The boy had been roused early by one of your men-at-arms to chalk down and copy the various ledgers and notes.

''What is the current political situation in Steyern? Did any of you pick up any rumours in Sternheim?'' Konrad von Heichsgau, the head of the scouting force, asked. '' Isn't that your job?'' Pernmarck asked him with a cheeky smile. In response, Heichsgau merely rolled his eyes. ''Shut up; I do scouting, not espionage.''

''As far as I remember, Steyern is split among different branches of the same family. Consequently, each branch holds the title of Duke of Steyern, and they all have the right to claim this title. Typically, they are named after the specific regions they govern, such as Ober-Steyern, Nieder-Steyern, and Steyern-Waldhut. The tradition of primogeniture has not yet been introduced there, so all sons can inherit a piece of the pie.'' Adelhardt von Hirschkrichen, the son of your father's friend, and particularly well-read exposits.

''I see, and are they at peace with each other, we wouldn't want to stumble into a family feud.'' The scout makes a motion with his hand while the others intently listen. ''I don't think so, open warfare is hard to keep secret. There might be raids or other subterfuge but I doubt we are in any trouble'' Came the answer

''Well, we best get packing then.'' The knights all rose from the table, wished you a good night and set off.

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>>5951586
As you made your way out of the Kaisersgut along the road, you saw that the peasants had already begun the process of ploughing their fields. Men with oxen and draft horses plough, and women and children sow.


It is a quaint paradox. Here, at the heart of the imperial and royal power, the nobility is oddly absent. Free men plough their fields here, not the serfs. In many parts of Greifswald and Tautenland, such an arrangement is more of an oddity that can be easily overlooked, but here it seems that the common man farms for his own profit and pays directly to their emperor rather than through a local lord. Not that you disapprove of such a practice, Ehrenfried, for whom you have squired for many a year, has always had a strong adversion to the institution of serfdom.

Being at the figurative heart of the country does always have its benefits, and in this case, it comes on properly maintained roads. Your father had done similar construction in his domains, but he never got around to creating a proper paved road network. But then again, this road is also made out of sand, dirt, and gravel. A hardened new road outside the cities has been a rarity since the fall of the old empire.

It is nearly midday when you stop in a quaint little farming village to resupply the water supplies from the nearby river. When you spot an old mill atop the hill, it has been abandoned for a long time, it seems. And you are curious enough to inquire with a local villager.

''May I have a moment of your time, good sir?'' You approach an older man; if anyone has local knowledge, it is going to be him. ''A sodger, sodgers appearing during the planting season is bad luck, my pa used to say; matter of fact, sodgers appearing is bad luck any time of t'year. The rural mannerisms get on your nerves, but you bear it for now.

''Ya mean tha ol' mill? Place's been abandoned for more than thirty years. Miller was found dead one day, as was the next one. The fourth one gave up and built a watermill over yon'' He makes a wave with a grubby little hand, marked with years of toiling in the fields.

''And you never found the killer?'' This sounds mildly concerning and interesting as well.

''Ah, what do you care for it huh?'' The man is quick to dismiss you it seems, perhaps it is because you are a soldier, perhaps because you are nobility, or maybe because you are an outsider.

>>5951589
>''My good man, I am trying to offer this village help; whatever happened at the old mill can happen again.'' By making an honest offer of assistance, you hope you can win him over.

>''Oh, very well, then, let the problem fester. Let's see how you will handle it when the killer moves on to the rest of the village. '' Time to draw him out with a combination of a guilt trip and an appeal to common sense.

>'Listen here, you rural lout! I am trying to offer you help, but your boorish manner is not exactly making it easy for me.' It's time to play it hard and rough. Let's see him handle a smackdown from a noble.

>>5951589
>''My good man, I am trying to offer this village help; whatever happened at the old mill can happen again.'' By making an honest offer of assistance, you hope you can win him over.

>>5951591
>>''My good man, I am trying to offer this village help; whatever happened at the old mill can happen again.'' By making an honest offer of assistance, you hope you can win him over.
Npw2t

>>5951589
>>''My good man, I am trying to offer this village help; whatever happened at the old mill can happen again.'' By making an honest offer of assistance, you hope you can win him over.

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'My good man, I am trying to offer this village help; whatever happened at the old mill can happen again.' By making an honest offer of assistance, you hope you can win him over. Honesty might be the longest path, as the old chaplain used to say, but it is the path that will lead to the greatest destination.

The man narrows his eyes for a bit before finally responding to your offer of help. 'Alright, it ain't my neck that's at risk. Let me tell ya something that I have just remembered.' Remembered? Or just conveniently forgotten? You quietly ask yourself. 'Bout five years ago, a group of o' pilgrims came through here, among them a group of them women monks. What are they called again?' He asks himself while scratching his nose: A large, flat thing that looks like it belongs on a cow, then on a human. 'They are called nuns.' You inform him. 'Yeah, yeah, anyway, one of them 'eard the stories and decided to take a look. Dunno what happened, 'cept that she put something on the door, which made the killing stop. But by that point, no one wanted to mill anymore.'

The old farmer looks mildly uncomfortable when he stops the tale; perhaps it reminds him of a sorrowful time in his youth. 'I was friends with one of the miller's sons when the mill was operational.' The old man begins to have a look of nostalgia and melancholy. 'But when his father died, he moved away with his mother to find work in the cities; I don't know where he went or where he ended up. If I could, I would pay to tear the damn thing down.' with his chin resting on his hands, which in turn rests on the wooden end of his pitchfork. 'I you would please 'cuse me, yer lordship. You have brought back some unpleasant memories.' He then solemnly walks off into the fields, where a young boy waves at him to come over.

The mill stands at the summit of the hill, a looming reminder of the past. The young boy's innocent gesture brings a moment of solace to his troubled mind as he joins him in the fields. But not for someone like you, who has never been to this town or this mill. The old building has had its milling sails and frames removed; rather, they were never maintained, the sails are gone, and the frames upon which they used to hang lie scattered and broken in the vicinity. The fields surrounding it are empty—no crops, no livestock, nothing.

(1/?)

>>5952336

Yet, like a raised finger, the towering hull of the mill still stands defiantly. 'That mill looks like nothing special; it's probably just some peasant superstitions.' Heichsgau's scepticism does have some merit, but fortunately, it's Hirschkrichen who makes the effort to debate. 'Those superstitions are usually based on a core of truth. Dismissing it as rubbish for old wives' tales is a bit too easy, and besides, we have nothing better to do; the men are still busy drawing water from the river.' Hirschkrichen's reasoning seems to have convinced Heichsgau and the three of you decide to go up to the old mill.

As you approach the old mill, you ride around it to find the door to the inside. It is an easy thing to do, as the circular design of the building means that you merely need to ride a circle to find the door. On said door is carved a message.

Know all ye who shall read this: an evil has taken hold within this building. Though it was not within my power to destroy it, I was able to seal it inside. It keeps quiet during the day, but it WILL attempt to break free during the night. Because of my circumstances, I was not able to determine what monster had holed itself up within these walls. I can only pray that you either keep this door closed or that you are skilled in arms. Sealed by sister A.E.

Strange, you thought to yourself. Normally, monastic orders make their members take on new names to formalise a break between their old and new lives. You suppose it was done for safety purposes or maybe for some other reason.

'Well then, Heichsgau. Your suspicions remain unfounded. If what that carving says is true, then we are morally obligated to destroy it.' Hirschkrichen attempts to open the door, first by normal means and then by throwing his weight against the wooden door. 'That won't work; hang on. I got a hatchet for cutting wood with me on my horse. Heichsgau goes over to fetch the axe, and before you know it, the old wooden door is reduced to splinters and firewood. And the three of you march into the old mill.

At first glance, there appears to be nothing out of the ordinary; the mechanism for the milling process is covered in cobwebs, and old sacks of flour lie unused under the stairs leading up. There is also a staircase going down into a basement, but it is then that you see the clues that something here is wrong: the walls are covered in old splatters of blood, and the millstone is covered in scratch marks. Whatever lives here must be carnivorous and dangerous.

The clattering of things downstairs quickly alerts a lot of you to action. All of you quickly rush down into the basement to find the bane of the town.

(2/3)

>>5952336
The thing could once be called human, but it now lacks hair on every part of its body. Its lips and nose are missing, leaving its exposed nasal passage and sharpened teeth open for all to see. The creature emits a guttural growl as it lunges towards you, its claws outstretched and ready to strike. Adrenaline courses through your veins as you prepare to face this abomination head-on, knowing that the safety of the town depends on your swift action.

Prepare for combat!

Select a combat stance
>Cautious - Double AV (Max 80), Total unsaved damage to Foe is halved (Rounding up)
>Guarded - Exchange of Blows does not inflict or sustain damage.
>Balanced - AV and Damage remain unchanged.
>Belligerent - Exchange of Blows does not inflict damage; +1 Damage to Foe if any unsaved damage is inflicted.
>Audacious - Halve AV (Rounding up); Each point of unsaved damage to Foe is doubled

I would have included a drawing of the monster, but every attempt ended up to derpy looking.

>>5952338
>>Guarded - Exchange of Blows does not inflict or sustain damage

>Guarded - Exchange of Blows does not inflict or sustain damage

Albrecht von Adlershorst, heir to the Duke of Greifswald: Healthy
>Combat = 50DC [Healthy +5DC, Silberkralle (Mithril sword) +15,Santicfied rosary + 5DC, von Heichsgau +15DC, von Hirschkirchen +10DC]
>Armour Value = 25AV [Chainmail shirt and Coif +10AV, Great helm+5AV, coat of plates +10AV]

VS

The Vlergaust of Mötznach : Healthy
>Combat = 30DC [ Sharpened Claws +10DC, razor teeth +15 DC, Unnatural strength +5DC]
>Armour Value = 15AV [Dried up outer skin +5AV, Undead insensitivity to pain, 10AV]

>Personal combat: Base 50DC + (Albrecht's DC [50]) - (The Vlergaust's DC [30]) = 70 DC

Crit-fail = Suffer a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage sustained AND dismounted/disarmed)
0 Success = Suffer a solid blow (2 degrees of damage sustained)
1 Success = Exchange glancing blows (1 degree of damage inflicted and sustained)
2 Success = Inflict a solid blow (2 degrees of damage inflicted)
3 Success = Inflict a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage inflicted)
Crit-pass = Inflict a killing blow (what it says on the tin)

Doubles Pass = +1 damage ignores opponent AV or Dismounted/Disarmed penalty
Doubles Fail = Dismounted and/or Disarmed penalty

3 rolls of 1d100, if you would please.

Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>5952773

Rolled 84 (1d100)

>>5952773

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>5952773

>1 success: exchange glancing blows.

>Due to guarded stance the effects are negated.

To their credit, the other two knights do not flee at the sight of the Vlergaust. And while the room you're in is too small to gang up on the creature, Instead, they quickly block the way up and out, leaving the four of you trapped in the basement.

The monster leap makes you quickly step aside from the onslaught of the Vlergaust. It fiercely leaps forward, but as soon as you are out of the way, it instead makes a scratch on the wall behind you.

The knights exchange a knowing look, realising that their only chance of survival is to keep the Vlergaust contained. With no way out, you all prepare for a battle that will test your strength and courage.

The monster lets out a roar, causing your ears to ring slightly. Then you raise their weapon, ready to face the Vlergaust head-on in a fight for both of your lives. (Or, well, unlive in the Vlergaust's case.)

Select a combat stance.
>Cautious - Double AV (Max 80), Total unsaved damage to Foe is halved (Rounding up)
>Guarded - Exchange of Blows does not inflict or sustain damage.
>Balanced - AV and Damage remain unchanged.
>Belligerent - Exchange of Blows does not inflict damage; +1 Damage to Foe if any unsaved damage is inflicted.
>Audacious - Halve AV (Rounding up); Each point of unsaved damage to Foe is doubled

I wanted to update yesterday, but I was too exhausted to do so.

>>5955294
>Belligerent - Exchange of Blows does not inflict damage; +1 Damage to Foe if any unsaved damage is inflicted.
Attack

>>5955294
>>Belligerent - Exchange of Blows does not inflict damage; +1 Damage to Foe if any unsaved damage is inflicted.

>>5955294
>>Belligerent - Exchange of Blows does not inflict damage; +1 Damage to Foe if any unsaved damage is inflicted.

>Belligerent

Combat
Albrecht von Adlershorst, heir to the Duke of Greifswald: Healthy
>Combat = 50DC [Healthy +5DC, Silberkralle (Mithril sword) +15,Santicfied rosary + 5DC, von Heichsgau +15DC, von Hirschkirchen +10DC]
>Armour Value = 25AV [Chainmail shirt and Coif +10AV, Great helm+5AV, coat of plates +10AV]

VS

The Whergaust of Mötznach : Healthy
>Combat = 30DC [ Sharpened Claws +10DC, razor teeth +15 DC, Unnatural strength +5DC]
>Armour Value = 15AV [Dried up outer skin +5AV, Undead insensitivity to pain, 10AV]

>Personal combat: Base 50DC + (Albrecht's DC [50]) - (The Vlergaust's DC [30]) = 70 DC

Crit-fail = Suffer a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage sustained AND dismounted/disarmed)
0 Success = Suffer a solid blow (2 degrees of damage sustained)
1 Success = Exchange glancing blows (1 degree of damage inflicted and sustained)
2 Success = Inflict a solid blow (2 degrees of damage inflicted)
3 Success = Inflict a mighty blow (3 degrees of damage inflicted)
Crit-pass = Inflict a killing blow (Exactly as it read)

Doubles Pass = +1 damage ignores opponent AV or Dismounted/Disarmed penalty
Doubles Fail = Dismounted and/or Disarmed penalty

Three rolls of 1d100 as before

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>5956228

>>5956236
in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, Amen

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>>5956236
>Nat 1
>On the introduction monster no less.
Welp, hopefully, it is a sign of things to come

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This isn't the time to horse around, not this time. You know what will happen when that thing gets out; unlike vampires, vlergausts are not hurt by the light of the sun. It will go on a rampage, murdering the entire village and the village next over until enough people have come to destroy it. It is up to you, then, to stop it.

You advance, Silberkralle in hand, ready to strike. The beast growls and lunges at you once more, but the same move won't work twice; this time, you are ready, and though you are not yet in a position to deliver the final blow, you know what needs to be done. You hold your sword in one hand momentarily, then drive your armoured fist into the creature's gut with enough force to knock it off balance. Seizing the opportunity, you swiftly raise your sword in an arc, slicing from right to left, separating the vlergaust's head from its body.

For a split second, it stands there confused, before first the head and then the body both fall to the ground.

The lifeless form of the vlergaust twitches briefly before becoming motionless, allowing you to stand triumphantly over your conquered enemy. The excitement of the battle begins to subside, giving way to a sense of accomplishment and relief.

Well, that's that. For a moment, you consider dragging the body out to burn it, but after a minute of watching it, you decide that it would be unnecessary. 'Come, there is nothing left for us to do here. The vlergaust is dead, permanently.' You turn to your two companions with a wide grin. 'Oh, that I know, I was simply wondering if this thing will be the first of many.'

'I hope not; fighting pitched battles is one thing. But these things are not mere men.' The two knights were back to bickering once the three of you were climbing up the stairs once more.

When you got back outside, a small crowd of peasants had assembled before the old mill. One of them probably alerted the others and gathered them due to the fight. 'What are you doing here? If that thing had gotten out, it could have slaughtered all of you. You cannot simply come here; had that old man not warned you.'

The crowd murmured for a while before the old man spoke up. 'Ah did not tell anyone less; Ah figured ya wouldn't be so reckless as to break open a sealed building. But, ah suppose that we should be grateful for clearing out the old mill. That part of the village can rest easy now.'

Afterwards, you all returned to the village, mostly to rest, eat, and recover from general exhaustion. A group of villagers approaches you when it's time to leave and go further.

'We are grateful for your help; thus, we have all contributed to give you a little money, it is not much, but we hope we can express our gratefulness'

>I cannot accept this, you all need this more than I.
>I happily accept your reward.
>Write-in.

>>5956367
>I cannot accept this, you all need this more than I.

>>5956367
>>I cannot accept this, you all need this more than I.

>>5956367
>>I cannot accept this, you all need this more than I.

You cannot accept the money, and under no circumstances would you accept it. Your time with Ehrenfried erranting around Greifswald has given you a perspective that differs from most nobles. While some of the more indolent aristocrats would happily claim that such is the natural order and that the commoner should accept that, you see things differently. Though the nobility rules and fights, it is the peasants who plough the fields and herd the cattle, the tradesmen who forge the weapons and build the castles. The clergy has always been an estate apart, but the parish priest has nearly never been from the nobility. You understand that for society to function, it needs the combined cooperation of all members of the estates.

No, you will not take the money these hardworking fellows have painstakingly earned. To be a peasant is to toil in the fields, granaries, and cattle sheds, day in and day out. Throughout the year. Every bit of money counts for them, and you will not take it from them. And thus, you tell them as much. '' While I understand and appreciate your generosity, I cannot accept this; you all need it more than I do. Please understand that I have no need for your money, nor do I turn it down out of haughtiness or vanity. I believe that you should hang on to your own money. All of you have earned that money; save it for a rainy day.''

A sense of relief falls over the crowd. Then a discussion arises once more, mostly about that they should at least give you something. And so a fat, balding man with a rather frisky moustache steps forth. Because he is wearing an apron, you can guess that he is the local innkeeper/. He claps his rather large hands together and smiles jovially. ''If you won't accept coins, the least I can offer is some free beer on the house.''

''Ha, I can't say no to free beer.'' You exclaim with a hearty guffaw. ''Refreshments are in order, and a tankard of cool beer will help to cool off after that experience'' You ride your way back to the tavern, slowed down by the crowd that elected to walk with you there, but you do not mind. If you weren't on horseback, you're certain they would carry you in their hands.

Now, about that free beer.

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>>5957295
Three weeks later, near the border between Steyern-Kröschen and Castana, deep within the mountain

A beautiful sight, that is for certain; you have never seen a proper mountain chain form so up close. The kaisergut had some smaller ones, but those weren't this big. A true mountain higher than high, accessible only to the birds and the mountain goats. This, combined with the endless beauty of the valleys and lakes, made you feel most at ease while travelling through the Grenzbirge.

It is in many ways completely different from Greifswald, with its ravishingly flat plains and deep, thick forests. Forests still exist here, of course, but they feel a lot less… heavy; they are more transparent and less mysterious. Your father once told you that parts of the woods in Greifswald are still untamed, a leftover from a different time. When magic was abundant and all manner of strange creatures roamed the land, the court mage once theorised that those parts of the deepwoods are leftovers of ancient nexuses of magical power. Older than even the old empire.

But is something that could wait until your return to Greifswald. Instead, the march through the mountains has given rise to a fresh discussion of military ideas about how to best fight the Saracen in Mithras.

Two camps have emerged, one arguing for better implementation of defences in case the army gets ambushed in the narrow mountain passes of central Mithras. The other is for the improvement of a tactic that has become standard for the men of Greifswald: ambushes from the forest. Both arguments have their merits and their flaws, but as the commander, it is your call to make. From what you recall, Orenis, the island where most of the battles are being fought, has both woodland and mountains.

>Implement reforms for fighting in the mountains [Gain: Mountaineering: +10DC in battles with the army in mountainous terrain]
>Implement an improved ambush tactic for within the forest [Gain: Improved forest ambush: +20 when attacking from wooded terrain]

I will get into general battle mechanics later, needless to say, it will still follow the 3 1d100 system but some thing of my own devising

>>5957300
>Implement reforms for fighting in the mountains [Gain: Mountaineering: +10DC in battles with the army in mountainous terrain]
Sometimes we may only fight in mountaines Sometimes only in forest and sometime both. Better be adaptive

>>5957300
>>Implement reforms for fighting in the mountains [Gain: Mountaineering: +10DC in battles with the army in mountainous terrain]

>>5957300
>>Implement reforms for fighting in the mountains [Gain: Mountaineering: +10DC in battles with the army in mountainous terrain]

Indeed, in the mountains and hills, it is the polearm that has the last word. Thankfully, you have an abundance of those in the form of your poleaxemen. And the six hundred could easily block off a narrow pass if necessary to allow the cavalry to dismount and for the archers to give supporting fire from behind. This strategy allows for a coordinated defence against potential enemy forces attempting to navigate the treacherous mountain terrain. The combination of poleaxemen, dismounted cavalry, and archers creates a formidable obstacle for any advancing army.

That is, of course, the crux of the matter; in the mountains, the advantage lies with the defender. All attempts at outflanking or encircling are dependent on whether or not there are over mountain passes to pass through to manoeuvre in.

There are other problems. Of course, the harsh winters could easily freeze an entire army caught in the mountains; an avalanche would do much the same. Additionally, the steep cliffs and narrow pathways make it difficult for large numbers of troops to advance simultaneously, further hindering any option of swift manoeuvring. Moreover, the unpredictable weather patterns in the mountains can also pose a significant challenge for military operations, as sudden blizzards or storms can easily disrupt supply lines and communication.

Thus, you set out to train the boys in the ways of the mountains, not actually expecting them to become the equivalent of the mountain goats that jump tip to tip, but that they know what to do in case they encounter an enemy blocking the way, what to do when ambushed from above, and to keep the calvary in the rear so it cannot cause any problems.
(1/2)

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>>5958084
The crossing of the border was a bit grander than you had expected. Upon leaving the sight of the last Tauten castle in the border valley and the crossing of the small creek that marked the border, you rode up to see the glory of the land of a thousand republics.

Part of you had expected to enter a land filled to the brim with wineries, olive groves, and great ancient marble ruins. But for now, you would have to content yourself with merely gazing down upon it from above.

Now, then. It's time to unfold the map again. Your main destination should be to reach Cardinal di Cremolora. Who is at present in his see at Pocantello, it is therefore logical to travel there as soon as possible. However, there are perhaps a few matters you would wish to address.

>I am about to travel to a land where I do not speak the language, I should find a translator.
> This is a land filled to the brim with the unscrupulous, cutthroats and, yes, even copper clippers. I should look into security measures for the baggage train.
>Most above all I should get a proper lay of the land, and seek out who's who and with whom the regional power lies
.
>Write-in

>>5958087
> This is a land filled to the brim with the unscrupulous, cutthroats and, yes, even copper clippers. I should look into security measures for the baggage train.
Never trust copper clippers

>>5958087
>>I am about to travel to a land where I do not speak the language, I should find a translator.
>> This is a land filled to the brim with the unscrupulous, cutthroats and, yes, even copper clippers. I should look into security measures for the baggage train.

Why not both?

>>5958087
>> This is a land filled to the brim with the unscrupulous, cutthroats and, yes, even copper clippers. I should look into security measures for the baggage train.

>>5958087
>> This is a land filled to the brim with the unscrupulous, cutthroats and, yes, even copper clippers. I should look into security measures for the baggage train

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Castana holds different meanings for different individuals. In reality, there are two distinct aspects of Castana: firstly, it refers to the geographical region of Castana, which is more of a term to describe the land than a unified country.

This region is divided among several small states that constantly engage in petty conflicts for various reasons, most of which are trivial. Since the late 700s, there hasn't been a reigning monarch in Castana, and the prospect of unification appears distant. The other aspect of Castana pertains to its people, who can be described as a charming assortment of merchants, scoundrels, and other unscrupulous individuals. In the rest of the Curian world, merchants only hold influence within the confines of the city, their caravans, or their ships.

The presence of the crowned heads of Argalis and their vassals ensures that they remain in their rightful place, in the market, where they sell their goods. However, rumours in the courts in Aurilie, Tautenland, Lolegal, and many others circulate that in Castana, the number of merchants surpasses that of the nobility, and their trade with the Orient has bestowed upon them wealth to the extent that they consider themselves equals to the aristocracy. This situation is highly uncomfortable for honest and upright Tauten men of noble blood. Castana is a land of deceit and duplicity, inhabited by individuals who would betray you after breaking bread with you.

But that does not mean it isn't a land without its virtues either; wines of high quality are produced here. You have always been more of a beer man than your father, who loves a good Aurilién burgundy, with your mother preferring a vintage from even southern Venautra. The crafts and arts are held in high regard here, as is the development of the banks.

Something that the Castanians took over from the dwarfs, and your father later introduced it to Greifswald. A lesser man may baulk at such a financial institution. And although you prefer not to be in bed with a bunch of money-brained whingers that make up the merchant class, as the heir to a duchy of your own, your father made sure that you at least have a grasp on accounting and the day-to-day management of your future inheritance. Knightly virtues and chivalry are all fine and good, but you were not born for a life of errantry. It was perhaps then for the best that you are engaged in your wandering years now, for you are too young to be bound behind a desk or on a throne.

>>5958795
It is time for you to put some measures in place. You will quickly prevent some swindlers from selling you rotten fish or bread. You know how it will go. Some sly, greasy slimeball of a merchant with a stupid hat and a ridiculously styled bread will take advantage of the fact neither you nor any of the quartermasters can speak Castanan to quickly dump some expired wares on you at a premium and laugh as he would be gone long before you could exact your revenge.

Instead of the present system, where the quartermasters either go to the nearby villages and cities to buy supplies or for a merchant to come to the camp, merchants are now banned from peddling foodstuffs and other wares to the quartermaster. They may still sell to the soldier, who can pay out of pocket if they must, but to make certain that the supplies are provided for by someone you can trust, you create a new rank, the quartermaster-general. To be in charge of logistics and supplies and to make certain that perhaps the most crucial branch on a strategic level is handled by someone you know and trust.

The baggage train itself should also be secured, for while scepticism might keep away the silvered tongue of the merchant, the thief would not be dismayed by such a measure. To keep that from becoming a problem, you divide the monetary reserves into various sacks, all of which will be traded and counted at the end of every week. The letters of credit your father entrusted you with would be worthless to the thieves because of the safety precautions in place, and besides that, they are folded up somewhere within your personal tent—the safest place in the camp.

That only leaves you with one last safety measure to take. Learning the language, or at least finding someone who can. After all, it helps to know when someone sells you, say a ''una bella pecora dalla lana soffice'' or whatever the guy in the first village you passed by attempted to sell you. But where to find a translator?

>Search among any merchant caravan you encounter on the way.
>Ask around with the clergy, surely there must be a Tauten monk or pilgrim here
>Do what you did in Sternheim, and try to recruit in a tavern of the largest nearby city

>>5958800
>>Do what you did in Sternheim, and try to recruit in a tavern of the largest nearby city

>>5958800
>>Ask around with the clergy, surely there must be a Tauten monk or pilgrim here

>>5958800
>>Do what you did in Sternheim, and try to recruit in a tavern of the largest nearby city

File: Hiring menu.png (157 KB, 495x611)

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You manage to find a suitable tavern in the sleepy town of Grerno, which lies at the foot of the Grenzbirge

Eventually, you narrow it down to about three suitable candidates. Alfonso Dellagati is the first; he was originally a mathematician hired to work on the basilica in the city of Lonina. However, he was let go when he realised that his calculation about the load-bearing capacity of one of the towers was correct, even though it differed from the engineer's assessment. He took matters into his own hands and made the necessary adjustments himself. When this was discovered, the engineer had him banished from the city; thus, he was in search of new employment. When you mentioned Mithras, he was delighted to talk about the intricacies of the math behind some of the architecture there and would not shut up until you distracted him with a question about being able to build a trebuchet. He immediately took a piece of paper and scribbled down a sketch of how to build a trebuchet, complete with detailed instructions and diagrams. Unfortunately, he also seems a bit strange. He constantly fiddles with his fingers and turns his head to whatever loud noise comes from somewhere nearby.
Second, is a fellow by the name of Giacobbe Sorba, a former wine trader who lost most of his merchandise in an avalanche earlier this spring and now spends most of his time wandering the streets aimlessly, searching for a new purpose in life. Although he does have enough connections with merchants all over Castana, he unfortunately couldn't rely on them to support him. Unmarried and too far from his home village to return, he now seeks a place to work, as his last money barely pays for his stay here for another month. He does not seem to be very temperate with the bottle—perhaps a coping mechanism for his failing business, perhaps the cause of it.


The last man to apply for the job isn't a Castanan at all but a Venautran minstrel by the name of Estéve Calvet, who has a light melodious voice according to himself. But what makes him interesting to you is that he can speak not only Castanan and Tauten but Aurilén and Venautran as well. According to several other tavern patrons, you would be better off not hiring him. He only knows about three songs, which he repeats until everyone is sick of them.

Your personal amount of Greifs is, unfortunately, too low to hire any of them with it. You 320 Reichsthalers

In the end, you settled on
>Master Alfonso Dellagati, 20 Reichsthalers.
>Giacobbe Sorba, 16 Reichsthalers.
>Estéve Calvet, 6 Reichsthalers
>None of them.

>>5961420
>Master Alfonso Dellagati, 20 Reichsthalers.
siege engineer is just a must

>>5961420
>>Master Alfonso Dellagati, 20 Reichsthalers.

>>5961420
>>Master Alfonso Dellagati, 20 Reichsthalers.

The good master, Dellagatti, is more than happy to join your armed pilgrimage, but not before listing some of his preferences and needs. The most important of which is that his tent be set up away from the rest of the group for privacy. And that it be a quiet area in the camp, or else he couldn't work. He also only eats bread with eggs and dried meat and will not have anything else. He also refuses to talk to anyone until he has had his morning drink of water with a good splotch of vinegar because it ''gives him energy and focus for the day''. You yourself consider the idea of drinking vinegar a bit strange, but you have no real objection to it. What is verging on the ridiculous, however, is that he doesn't ride a horse or a cart. But he insists on walking everywhere with a toy hobby horse. Thankfully, he doesn't always ride it, but he occasionally talks to it. as if it were a real animal. It is a bit embarrassing, but you keep him far away enough that he isn't seen with you. You also have him calculate the accounts of the army and keep the records up-to-date, which he does with great precision.


He eats up your ledgers like breakfast, usually with some clever recalculation to cut costs here and there and keep the numbers looking clean. Schreiber can translate it back into actually readable numbers, and your records look a lot more efficient the longer you let him look them over.

Your progress to the east progresses smoothly; this part of Castana is under the thumb of some of the larger statelets, and thus it feels a lot safer than the other regions you've travelled through. Of course, the only thing that can really stop you is another army or a hostile case. Yet because the house of Adlershorst has no friends in this land, it also has no enemies. As for the brigands, bandits, and their ilk, only an idiot would attempt to rob a marching army.

Travel itself is most pleasing; the sights of Castana are something to behold. The pale marble remnants of the old empire contrast with the brick and plaster of the more modern construction. Every so often, a grand set of pillars and maybe a frieze cone come into view, or a half-forgotten column depicts the campaigns of the legions of yore. Be it in Angenland, against your own barbarian ancestors, or the far-off and long-since-gone empires of the Orient.

It is the 24th of Flosculus (V) when your army finally reaches the approaches of Pocantello, though, for both your own and their safety, you order that camp be set up outside of view behind some trees.

There is a lot you can and need to do. To begin with, you might deliver the letter the emperor gave you to the cardinal. On the other hand, going to the bank to redeem the letters of credit and secure passage with one of the captains would also be a good idea. Ships seem to be abundant here, like a grand forest of masts that clog up the harbour.

>>5962208
>I should deliver the letter first and foremost, getting into contact with the cardinal should be my top priority.
>Redeeming the cheques and securing transport to Mithras shall give us a clear timetable, and the sooner we get there the better.
>I want to see this city before I go on matters of business, I am very curious about these Castanan cities

>>5962210
>>I should deliver the letter first and foremost, getting into contact with the cardinal should be my top priority.

>>5962210
>>I should deliver the letter first and foremost, getting into contact with the cardinal should be my top priority

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Finding and contacting the Cardinal should be your utmost priority to resolve this urgent matter. While starting at a church or basilica may seem logical, it's not a service day, and the higher-ups in the church are occupied with other duties beyond daily routines like cleaning and praying. If anything, you can probably find him at work in either his palace or perhaps he is in a temple, though you should probably ask around for his location first and foremost.

Pocantello bustles with the constant flow of boats, merchants haggling, travellers rushing, and crusaders preparing for their armed pilgrimage. It is a bustling city that never seems to sleep. The harbour reminds you of the one at Libau, though this one is a lot bigger and more chaotic. And instead of the cogs traditionally used for cargo and transportation in Libau, here you see a variety of ships. All of them are galleys, an ancient class of ships used since before the old empire and crewed primarily by oarsmen who relentlessly row through the relatively calm waters. The waters of the open oceans further out west are too rowdy and dangerous for these types of vessels, which are best used in inland seas. Since you will probably journey on one of these boats, it's essential to inspect them in advance to ensure a smooth voyage. You make a few mental notes about which ships are best suited to your needs before riding on to find the good cardinal.

Fortunately, your search doesn't last long. At the market square, quite a scene seems to be unfolding between a bearded old man in a ragged brown robe and another old man in a red robe with a scarlet galero. It seems you have found your man. Both of them look like they came out of the previous century; this could easily be true as well.

You dismounted to talk to Dellagatti one-on-one and see if he could understand what the two were arguing about. ''Hmm, one of them calls the other a coward in front of our heavenly lieges; the other argues that as the senior clergyman here, he is to make the decisions regarding the crusade; he also says that fanatic preaching is a wasteful practice while there is an actual war going on. And that he should disperse his rabble of followers because they have no way to secure the passage across the sea. And-''

The mathematician abruptly stops speaking as he observes two men restraining the ragged old men. ''Il Cardinale says that his patience has run thin; he will tolerate the antics of a gaggle of flagellating beggars and other miscreants. He also says that the instructions from the holy see were clear: only those properly equipped and led armies may go on crusade; a rabble of pitchfork-wielding peasants would only get themselves killed. He's talking too softly for me to hear. But considering how the monk is being dragged off, I think the conversation is over.'' And so it is. Without sparing a glance at the monk, the cardinal promptly turns away, instructing his escort to clear a path to his palace.

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>>5963030
You quickly make your way to the entrance of the Cardinals palace, though in truth it is more like an oversized townhouse. From what you remember, it typically houses a chapel, the personal quarters of the bishop, and a few classrooms for studying canon law. You assume that Di Cremolora is both the bishop of this diocese and a cardinal. But you do wonder what that little incident with that brown-robed preacher was; perhaps it is best not to press the subject, though perhaps you should out of curiosity.

The guards posted outside briefly stop you as you approach the entrance. Thinking quickly, you produce the letter with the imperial seal on it, and one of the guards fetches a canon to verify the seal. The canon then addresses you: ''The cardinal has been expecting a message; please follow me; your friend will have to wait outside.''

As you are escorted inside, you can't help but feel a sense of unease about leaving your Dellagetti behind. The man might get into trouble if you don't keep a close tab on him. However, the urgency of delivering the message to the cardinal outweighs any concerns you may have. The grandeur of the interior of the episcopal palace leaves you in awe as you follow the canon to meet with Cremolora. You come to a stop in a cool vaulted room, where the canon gestures for you to sit down. ''His Eminence will summon you shortly. Please make yourself comfortable and wait here.'' With a nod, the canon disappears through a nearby door.

Two minutes pass before the door opens, and you are invited to enter the cardinal's study.

At first glance, there is not much impressive about him; he is balding, and the hair that remains is grey and wispy. His big eyebrows and sunken eyes partially conceal his eyes. He slowly raises his head to meet your gaze as you approach. His green eyes look at you stoically, giving away nothing about his thoughts.

''I see that our mutual friend has delivered me another message.'' He holds out his left hand; his fingers are long and bony; his palm is open; and you hand over the letter to the cardinal, who motions for you to sit down. He then carefully pries the seal wax of the letter before carefully laying the seal in a drawer. ''I enjoy collecting seals.'' His voice is hard and flat, and his Tauten is good, though his pronunciation of some words is a bit off.

He quickly reads the letter before promptly standing up and throwing it into the fireplace. ''A risk of the trade, I am afraid. I am fortunate enough to retain my good memories even in my old age."

''Now then, is there anything else I can help you with? Or shall I show you the door?"

>Your eminence, I would merely ask for a simple blessing in our plight.
>If I might be so bold, your eminence, what did the letter contain?
>Write-in

>>5963034
>>Your eminence, I would merely ask for a simple blessing in our plight.
The temptation is strong to ask for more info. But I don't know if he'll budge.

>>5963034
>Your eminence, I would merely ask for a simple blessing in our plight.
>Write-in: Is there a problem with the crusader peasants?

>>5963034
>>Write-in: Is there a problem with the crusader peasants?

If possible, we could perhaps take some of them under arms and organize them.

>>5963034
>>5963171
I'll change my vote to support this in case of a tie.

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''Your eminence, I would merely ask for a simple blessing in our plight. After all, the faithful are in danger from the fire-worshippers.'' The old man looks at you with a look of contemplation before he answers. ''A blessing, then; have you not been blessed at home? Young sir knight? Or at least on the way here? But I suppose that if you wish for my blessing, I will grant it. May you find courage and strength in the face of darkness. For when the legions faced the hordes of the Witch-King, did they not fall back in fear but stand tall and united, ready to face whatever evil may come their way? Do not answer the question; I will also give you some advice. Do not trust the Mithradians; the court in Elisonikon eats those unprepared to face its intrigues alive; the church network of informants has told me that there are factions at the court that would rather not see crusaders in their little island chain; don't trust the Alatoroans either; the serene republic has agreed to keep the water free of enemy incursions, but they themselves have sunk the imperial fleet, leaving the very power vacuum in the region that allowed the infidel in the first place.''

He leans in and, in a conspiratorial tone, continues. ''I should also warn you of the more ambitious of your peers in the crusade. The bulk of them are second or otherwise not eligible to inherit a piece of land at home, so they try abroad. Of course, should the ever-fickled Mithradian court ever decide to overthrow the current dynasty, and if they decide to reverse course in their present policy of relations with us, the would-be kinglets would make for a far safer bet.''

It is a lot to take in. While you of course went on a crusade both out of the ideal and to see something of the world outside Greifswald, the idea that some of them are only here to claim land for themselves is an idea you find yourself holding in contempt. You are not naive, you know this happened on previous crusades and it will probably happen again, but you find the cutthroat nature of it to be beyond the pale.

(1/2)

>>5963936
On the logical side of it, it does make sense for the landless sons to crusade for their own profit, the dying corpse of an empire ripe for the picking, and only the infidel and the copper clipper get a piece. That won't do, not when Argalis is brimming with hotheaded young nobles eager to gain glory and power. But it is not an ambition you share, you are going there to help fellow believers and to stop the infidel.

However, another question is egging your mind about that wildman preacher and his followers, though you have yet to see them in person. The translations provided by Dellagatti give you a vague idea, self-flagellating fanatics, led by someone who is either a madman or a priest. Even if he did arrest that fellow, you still want to breach the subject with the cardinal.

''Is there a problem with the crusader peasants? I saw that you had one taken away, might I ask what that was about?'' The cardinal fixes his gaze on you before tightening his eyelids before answering. ''Crusader peasants? I suppose that is one way to address them, but I prefer the term beggars. Il Gonfaloniere does not want such people in his republic, and the council of hundred and I agree with him. That man you saw being arrested is Guy of Guisbes, an Aurilién monk who studied in Castana for a few years before returning to his monastery in Aurilie. Needless to say, when he caught wind of the crusade, he immediately riled some peasants to follow him on his way. A greater display of idiocy I have never seen, you and other nobles have organisation, carts, horses, money, proper arms and armour. The only thing they got Is a bunch of pitchforks and a half-mad monk. Needless to say, with him kept safely in the dungeon, the city militia has begun to disperse them out of the city and its surroundings.

>You talk like you know this Guy of Guisbes.
>May I talk to him?
>I would like to add these peasants to my own army.
>Write-in.

>>5963938
>>May I talk to him?
>>I would like to add these peasants to my own army.

The extra manpower might come in handy, if they're at all reasonable or capable. Apparently true believers so they may not be entirely hopeless.

Even dispersed I expect many of them would turn into problems in the countryside, thievery and banditry.

Perhaps with some slight support from the church we can solve the problem.

>>5963938
>>5963993
+1

For the first time, the cardinals reserved demeanour cracks. A smile, borne out of amusement, like a master letting his favourite student fail as a lesson. ''Guy of Guisbes isn't within my custody; I only assisted in his arrest to help the Gonfaloniere disperse the rabble he's with in the city dungeon. If you wish to speak to him, you should take the matter to the city government. As far as I am concerned, the role of the church has been played in this incident. If you are so insistent on meeting him, I should warn you beforehand; he can be a bit… unstable.''

''And as for the peasants? I would like to add them to my army.'' Perhaps a bit overly idealistic or maybe naive, but you are always willing to help. With their leader gone, they could easily fall into banditry or worse. By taking them with you, you hope to prevent something that could easily become a tragedy. There are stories of pilgrims being sold off as oar-salves to row the gallies, which is a fate comparable to forced labour in the mines.

''Do you speak Aurilén? That's where most of his followers came from. I imagine the city authorities are already in the process of dispressing them; they will probably be given notice to leave the hinterlands of Pocantello within the week, and if they resist, they will face harsh consequences. Don't take the Gonfaloniere's harsh stance to heart, as he is merely trying to protect the citizens. Past crusades have demonstrated that the utilisation of peasants led by charismatic preachers can result in unintended harm to the nearby population. There have been accounts of plundered villages that were forced to pay for their upkeep. So it is important to approach this crusade with caution and consideration for the well-being of all involved. Even the ones you pass by on the way there. ''

Sensing that the conversation had reached its conclusion, the cardinal walked to the door with you trailing behind him. As he opened the door, he turned back to you with a fatherly smile. ''I feel that you shall accomplish much, yet in your young life, my son. Go forth with confidence and remember that faith, both in our gods and in your family, shall be your guiding light."

Upon returning outside, you found that Dellagatti had not wandered off or disappeared. Intead, he had gotten into trouble with the local dove population for feeding them crumbs without having enough for everyone. After you scare off the birds, It was time to plan your next option.

>I should go to the prison, to speak with this Guy fellow.
>To the office of the Gonfaloniere, let's see if I can arrange for his release or bail.
>Guy can stay where he is, I want his followers.
>write-in

>>5965802
>I should go to the prison, to speak with this Guy fellow.
>To the office of the Gonfaloniere, let's see if I can arrange for his release or bail.
Too see if the guy (heh) is worth saving.
Don't think we can control religious zealots without Guy though.

>>5965802
>I should go to the prison, to speak with this Guy fellow.
And afterwards, if we think he's worth saving (or at least a good connection)
>To the office of the Gonfaloniere, let's see if I can arrange for his release or bail.

>>5965809
Support

>>5965802
>>I should go to the prison, to speak with this Guy fellow.
>>To the office of the Gonfaloniere, let's see if I can arrange for his release or bail.

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Right, so to personal events I couldn't update for a week but I hope to do so tomorrow. In the meantime, have this map

The prison is an old, imposing thing housed in what is known as the old castle at the other end of town. Its towering, grey walls and imposing gates strike apprehension in all who dare approach. The gallows and the chopping block are on full display in the courtyard. A guard blocked the way inside. After you explain who you are and that you have met with the cardinal, he is willing to let you inside.


The prisoners themselves are kept in the dungeon. The upper floors are where the guards and torture chambers are housed. You are led through dark, damp corridors until you reach a cold stairway.

The stairway eventually gives way to a corridor lined with iron bars that leads to the cells where the prisoners are kept. You find the man you are looking for in a praying position facing the small entrance of light that filters in through a small window high up on the wall. He has not yet felt the effect of imprisonment; of course, he has only been here for less than a day. His eyes are closed, and he appears to be at peace.

The warden bangs his weapon on the bars. ''Hai visitatori, in piedi, sobillatore.'' The warden loudly tells him. The guard's words fall on deaf ears as the inmate remains motionless. The warden rolls his eyes in frustration and says something to Dellagatti, who nods in understanding.

''You have about two hours to speak to him. After that, he is supposed to stand trial.''

''Well, I suppose we better make use of it.'' You reply

>You came a long way from Aurilie, yet you are now arrested, why?
>I saw you in a debate with the cardinal before your arrest.

>>5972724
>>You came a long way from Aurilie, yet you are now arrested, why?

>>5972724
>>You came a long way from Aurilie, yet you are now arrested, why?
>>5972198
Sexy map

>>5972724
>>You came a long way from Aurilie, yet you are now arrested, why?

''Politics'' The monk says this as he slowly stands up and turns to face you. ''I am not very popular within the church's upper echelons.'' He has a ruddy face that his beard fails to hide, and he retains a single pluck of hair on his forehead where once his tonsure was.

Until now, he speaks intelligible, if accented Tauten, but you can feel the mood sour when he sizes you up more closely.

''You are of noble blood, are you not ?'' When you nod, he makes a dismissive motion with his hand. ''I have spent enough time around your ilk to be sick of your kind; you are as bad as the merchants or the bishops, prowling about in your fine clothes and gilded carriages, while the rest of us toil in the fields and streets.

His eyes narrow as he continues, “You may have wealth and status, but you lack true understanding of the struggles of the common folk.” The resentment in his voice is palpable. ''From the day I joined the monks, I have had to content with the nobles; I have been passed over for promotions time and time again.''

''And I take it that you're in dispute with Cremolora?'' You ask of him.

''Cremolora taught me canon law, but he comes from a patrician family. After he was created a cardinal, he used his influence to raise his nephews into the proper nobility. Cremolora loves to play the caring grandfather or the loving uncle, but he is just as prone to committing power plays and schemes as the other high clergy.''

''I take it that you didn't come from a prominent family?'' A bit of an obvious question, of course: to come anywhere in the church, you would need connections—lots of them. Not too often does a lord make his brother or son the bishop, or his sister or daughter the abbess. Not directly, of course, but he instead cosigns a younger child to a monastery, makes sure he is well-educated, and then waits for the right moment to put his child in a position of power. The chapter usually does not dare to oppose him. Typically, the bishops and abbots of the world come from either the merchant class or the nobility. There are some exceptions, of course, but they come from a background like that of a free farmer or a craftsman. For a peasant to make it to such a high position is highly unlikely.

>>5976655
''My father was a cooper, but he could afford to raise me, so I went to the monastery, and there I learned proper literacy, not the limited garble of words that the common man often learns. I excelled at studying and was sent to a Castanan university to study Canon Law. There, I was introduced to the noble students and Cremolora. I dedicated myself to my studies, determined to become a respected scholar in my field; unfortunately for me, I was passed over for various positions again and again. So I withdrew back to Aurilie to live a quiet life away from the disappointments of the ecclesiastical world. I remained in seclusion for thirty years until I heard about the crusade, and then I saw my chance to build a new society.'' His eyes widen when he says the next sentence. ''away from the corruption and politics of the kings and the church.''

You can see him smile through his beard as he continues to speak. ''A society without kings, without corrupt bishops, without cities filled with moneygrubbers—as a matter of fact, we can do away with cities altogether and start fresh in the countryside. No more castles, manors, cities, or cathedrals. Only the monastery and the village—only through those can a virtuous society be built.''

Now, that is… what's the word, radical? Revolutionary? Unhinged? It is possible that ignoring the foundations upon which society is built will lead to chaos and destruction.

>:Laugh, ''And how are you going to convince the Mithradians and the infidel to let you alone?'' The idea alone is ridicoulus, but you are willing to see if he has put any thought into it.
>''You claim that the church is full of corrupt and powerhungry men, but now you are attempint to create you own nation? Is that not dishonest of you?'' Hopefully you can disuade him from this fools errand.
>Write-in.

>>5976658
>>''You claim that the church is full of corrupt and powerhungry men, but now you are attempint to create you own nation? Is that not dishonest of you?'' Hopefully you can disuade him from this fools errand.

>>5976658
>''You claim that the church is full of corrupt and powerhungry men, but now you are attempint to create you own nation? Is that not dishonest of you?'' Hopefully you can disuade him from this fools errand
>"Wouldn't that just be a society that will be attacked and taken over by a more militant centralised state?"