---

Nagrub's warband began their wild hunt in the early hours of the morning. Throughout the night scouting parties reported in roars and guttural screams of 'elf boyz' in the trees and shadows, but all investigations led the orcs nowhere. At last, a believable sighting occurred. With Nagrub's own beady red eyes he watched an elven scout, his short blue cape and blonde hair flowing as he ran across a small crossing in the river. With a roar, Nagrub raised his great choppa and called on his boyz to chase after the elf. With chants of "'ere we go" and animalistic roars the greentide of forty or more orcs began making the crossing over the river. Of course, there was no organization in an orcish crossing, and more than one boy would fall over his comrades and be cast into the cold water.

It was only when the first orc had made it across did Nagrub realize what was happening... As the first boy made it to shore and began marching up the embankment, a long white wooden arrow pierced his makeshift armor, and then another through his left eye.

This was a trap.

Elves appeared all along their side of the river, arrows ready, and began firing into the massed orcs. With increased fervour and rage, the orcs sped up their crossing in a rush to kill their ambushers. Stepping over wet, cold, greenskin bodies more and more orcs charged up the embankment, Nagrub included. Swinging his great weapon with unseen rage the Orc Warlord cared not if he struck elf or orc, there would be blood for attempting such unorcy tactics against a warlord as great as he. Thus, the clash began.

Choppas met makeshift spears and elven shortblades, and it was evident that in close combat the victor would inevitably be the orcs. The wooden spears of the elves snapped on impact with orcish axes; however, the elves had the advantage of continued arrow fire from more ambushers in the distance. The elves immediately began to focus their fire onto the biggest and most armored of the orcs, Nagrub himself, though many of their bolts would not pierce his iron armor. In one hand, his great choppa, in the other Nagrub grabbed hold of the nearest non-green body he could find. The elf was pathetic, his eyes wide with fear and his teeth grit in pain as Nagrub effortlessly snapped the helpless boy's neck between his brutish hands. He tossed the limp body towards his former comrades and continued the charge, however, with the death of this elf it seemed many of his compatriots had suddenly began to lose faith. It was in that moment that Nagrub realized, he had just killed the leader of this ambush. Was it the leader of this entire little tribe? He was not sure, but was quickly as the battle had begun it was over. Along the river bank twenty or more orcs lay dead, their bodies bleeding and arrows protruding from all sides, and ten or so elves, including the commander of this little attack. Perhaps not a victory in numbers, this was a victory none the less. Raising his great choppa Nagrub roared, and his remaining boyz roared with him. The bodies of the dead elves, and some orcs, were taken for eating on the long road back to Iron Rock. Nagrub was not sure if the elf he had slain was their leader, or if there were more where they had come from. All the Warlord knew was he went west for a fight, and a fight he had. He could safely return to his camp and show his boyz his might as he added new skulls to his banners and more snapped bones to his talismans. The point he wished to make to the elves and his boyz had now been made.

"Orcz are da biggest an' da strongest."

---

C) Improve infrastructure

Back at Iron Rock things remained relatively quiet. The Greenseer continued his ever holy works in the name of the orcish pantheon and the remaining boyz kept to work prospecting the lands. However, a new 'vision' came to Wurtag, and in the early hours his lesser shamans beat the drums and the camp encircled the Greenseer's great hut. Waving his 'magickz stik' Wurtag began proselytizing to his fellow greenskins of his vision. While they worked to prospect the land and breed the livestock, the gods were unhappy with the lack of effort their followers had put into their camp itself. Certainly there were enough spiky bones and protruding metal, but there lacked 'struktur' as Wurtag called it. What that word meant, not even Wurtag really knew, but after banging some heads and threatening to 'blast ya boyz wit me spellz' the orcs went right to work with... Whatever it exactly was Wurtag had demanded of them.

X) Panic and grief gripped Celebrimbor. They had tried to stand tall against the orcs and been broken. Their friends and family slaughtered at the hands of the orcs, their bodies devoured. They had made their bet and lost. In a helpless atmosphere it was as though they awaited death.

But death never came. The orcs had gone home and the elves would have to look to their future once again. It was Theldaneth they had put their faith in and he had brought this disaster on them. He had failed them. He was himself very distraught at his failure and before the crowd he stood powerless. He had neither the will nor the ability to sway them. He was loudly and publicly dethroned and denounced, no longer would any elf heed his council. Once their budding leader he was now relegated to disgraced obscurity.

The fear of the orcs still ran high, no one desired to risk being butchered like their countrymen had been. Flight was brought up. Many among them were anguished at the thought of leaving what they had accomplished behind. In this wealthy land they had fertile earth, bounties of silver and amber, they had all they could have wished for were it not for the dreaded greenskins. However no amount of wealth was worth the loss of all their lives. Theirs was not a god of war or vengeance nor was war their trade. It was decided that the settlement would be dismantled and they would take whatever they could carry by cart and by hand and set out west, in search of greener pastures, further removed from the orc menace.

They walked nervous and scared, it might be said that they spent more time looking over their shoulders than they did looking forward. Under the watchful eyes of the elf-at-arms that still remained they hoped that they would find safety soon.

Every night they prayed for deliverance from their perilous journey.

Turn 5

Points of interest are marked with flags outlined with your color. Your forces' position is also marked with such flags.

The Lothelonni

@Polybius



@Cyclone



@Chairman Stein



@Lady Selune



@Murtox



@LordZell No post found. Player's civilization is standing still until player returns. Automatic dropout in 3 turns away without word.



@Pirate



@Kangutso

Orcs, thought Maxim grimly. The Master of Arms, what others called a general, had been conspicuously absent from the senate ever since the news had come back. Redskins were brutal, bloodthirsty and insane beasts no better than a wild boar or ferocious wolf, and needed to be dealt with as such. Maxim hated giving the order for conscription, but alas, that was the way of the world. The Maerians were not a particularily diplomatic people, but they did know the way of the sword, and the way of the sword seemed to be the way forward.

30% of their men and women; the Maerians did not make a distinction in the military, even the weakest of people could be put to use, behind the lines, as skirmishers or arbelasts... It was a shame they had so few weapons and so little materials to make them with. Maxim was kicking himself for not giving the order to establish a lumber yard when he had the chance, but they would have to make do. Hunting bows, boar spears, and once again those gladius': they were not defenceless by any means.

And, they had brought bulls. Not a lot, only the professional soldiers who had joined before the conscription order had been sent out would get it, but they had the distinctive banded leather armour that their homeland's own soldiers would have worn. A breastplate mate from stiffened leather, straps along the shoulders and arms, cloth bindings around the hand to prevent chafing, and so if, god forbid, they were totally disarmed, they could throw punches.

It was a damned shame they had no iron. If they had had it, then they would have been able to make proper breastplates and helmets, but this would have to do for now. The fishing boats were perfect for the 'short' trip to and from the orcish camp, and if they could get a foothold near it, then that would become a perfect place to establish a military base, and perhaps, in the distant future, a town.

For now though, there would be training. From the barracks' training yards, there was the steady shouts of an army being trained, the distinctive 'clack' of training swords, and the smell of food being prepared for the army, hard tack and salted mutton, wafted across the city. It was a damned shame they had no grapes, but perhaps the soldiers could find some; military expeditions always went easier with a little alcohol to dull the sway of the waves.

Maxim watched as the government building was erected at last. It was no grand basilica, that was for sure, just a squat, triangular-peaked building with simple columns rising up. It would honestly fit a temple better, and Maxim would ensure that his lasting legacy would be to turn this into a temple once the senate moved out, but for now it would serve well. Chairs and a large table had been moved in, and the front area had been determined as a courtroom, a courtroom that had thankfully not been needed to be used.

The leader of the expedition, however, would not be the general or Maxim himself. The general was an old man, a strategic genius but not suited to fighting, and the senate had deemed Maxim to important to lose, and so it would be Maxim's daughter who would be 'in charge' of the expedition, one of the original soldiers, and the only one with proper metal armour, inherited from her father.

Aemilina was a soldier through and through. She had served in the military back home when it had been her time, and had continued in her service for another five years, and was one of the most experienced out of all of the men and women in New Matem with seven of her twenty-five years in service. She would be a capable general, the senate and the people had no doubt about that.

---

C) Improve Infrastructure

After some time, Dag himself made the trip to the mountains. The purpose that he claimed was a desire to inspect the new mine, but he was equally driven by curiosity about the strange creature that his men had found. The Gilbin, they were calling it now.

When the High Chieftain looked at the thing, he quickly realized that it posed little threat in a battle, however it had the sly look of a snake about it. This was the sort of creature that would sneak into your home and butcher you in your sleep, not raise a host and lay siege to your village. The realization didn't set him much at ease.

Nonetheless, the question of what to do about the Gilbin remained. There was quite possibly a whole tribe of these creatures hiding in some crevice or peak, and Dag knew that if a member of the Iceborn were murdered, he would be the first to cry out for war and vengeance. So was it safer to kill the Gilbin so that its supposed tribe might never learn of its fate, or to release the thing and hope that its captivity wouldn't spark a war? Was there even reason to fear a war with these creatures? If a war did happen, would the scrawny little things make good slaves? Were there even more of the creatures in the first place?

In the end, the thinking began to drive Dag mad. The idea crossed his mind to bring the Giblin back to Dagshall and have the Godis and wise men look over it or use their magic to learn of it, but that hardly seemed worth the effort. If the Giblin was a lone creature then it posed no threat, and if it had a tribe then the Iceborn would not cower from any war that might come. So Dag offered the Giblin some food and drink and then had his men release it, and that was that.

As the talk of the Giblin and skraelings eventually died down, work could finally resume at its previous pace. Dag realized that the tribe could bring bars of iron back to be worked by the smiths in Dagshall, but hauling boulders of unprocessed ore would be too inefficient. It would have to be processed near the mine, so Dag saw to it that the necessary smeltery was built at the mining camp.

There was also construction to be done in Dagshall. A smithy was already being erected in anticipation of the iron that would soon be coming from the mountains. In addition, atop the empty hill in the middle of the village, work finally began on a great mead hall. It was time that the High Chieftain, his family, and his retainers have a home worthy of their status. In addition, the mead hall would be a place large enough for half the tribe to gather for meeting or celebration, and atop that hill it would make a good holdout should the village ever come under attack. Fittingly, the mead hall would be able to keep true to its name if Sverker had success with his honeybees and meadery.

B) There was nothing to do but go on. What they would find no one knew, but all desired to put further distance between themselves and the orcs and few desired to make their home in this dark forest. They would subtly mark their way behind them and try to continue on a straight path forward as best they could, aiming to find the other end, hoping that the distance is not too great. Fatigue, hunger and fear was something they would all have to deal with in the days ahead, doing their best to shield their children from the worst of it. Many sought comfort and distraction in prayer and work, but the weight of their situation was undeniably heavy and it only became harder as supplies grew sparser. At least here among the trees they were somewhat hidden.

It was true that with Theldaneth's fall from grace their society had reverted once again to a more primitive state. But they were not entirely dysfunctional in such a state. Most among them were at least to some degree educated, with experience in managing their own businesses and being raised on reason, and they put these qualities to use in managing their runaway civilisation. Many decisions were made independently while at other times the prominent elves among them gathered to make decisions collectively. For example the decision to mark their way behind them was at the initiative of the hunters, who knew how treacherous forests could be. How such a system, or the lack of it, would handle more serious disputes or more complicated situations remained to see, but no one really viewed it as permanent and for now it was enough for them to get by.

For several days the rangers Celamon and Kato tracked the brute through the wilderness. As the land transformed from river-forest to grassland, Celamon noticed that everything was larger. Rocks became boulders, grass soared above the tall elves and obscured their vision. Towering trees dwarfed the tiny rangers as they pressed on. Wary, and tired, the duo pressed on keeping a safe distance from the brute.

After a hard journey, senses dulled from days tracking the creature, the rangers came upon a village with a pallisade wall, campfires and the sound of civilization. The walls were enormous, perhaps felled trees from the behomeths they had passed on the trek inland.

And the smell...

Celamon shuddered. The overwhelming stench from the brutes settlement permeated his clothes and hair and clung to his nostrils. It was the smell of sweat, blood and meat. Beside him, crouched in the underbrush, Kato stared wide eyed. Celamon issued the order for retreat and the pair beat a path back to the river trail.

Panting from exhaustion, Kato shook his head. "There must be 50 of those...those ogres in there. Gods what land have we found?"

Celamon rested a hand on his companions shoulder. "A good one, Kato. We know not what these creatures intend. Perhaps they are friendly." Celamon cracked a smile. "Probably not!"

Kato chuckled despite himself. "Let's get back. Lord Brightflower will want to hear this." Celamon nodded agreement and the rangers began the trek home to Cantivale.

---

Back at Cantivale, Lord Brightflower was consulting with his officers. Leena, a trusted retainer of house Brightflower was examining the ledgers.

"It would be better to have a smaller, well trained force m'Lord," said Leena. "A few men and women handpicked, well trained and on alert at all times would be a better force than to rally a militia in times of crisis." Leena spoke the words with an emotionless certainty. Lord Brightflower nodded.

"I agree Leena, you are my most trusted military advisor, let's begin immediately. I also wish to know of any dangers to our village. We should begin construction of concealed watch towers, high in the trees to evade detection by enemies," Lord Brightflower pointed to several locations on the crude map layed out before them.

Leena suggested a few alternate locations and the elves agreed. "We will keep rocks and plenty of arrows in the towers as well m'Lord, just in case. I will begin the training immediately and consult with the craftsmen about these towers. As you please m'Lord." Leena bowed and Lord Brightflower returned to studying the map.

"Where are you Celamon?" he whispered to himself.

C Improve Infrastructure Build camouflaged watchtowers and defensive points around the village up to 2 miles away and stock them with arrows and projectiles.

Time to Farm

Arngir looked out at the pier, at the fishermen hard at work gathering food for the clan. However, he knew that it still would only just feed them enough and they needed more. He recalled how some of the others stated that they found the land around them suitable as farmland. And so, it was time to make use of it.

The clan came together, at least those who weren't fishing, and Arngir suggests to them that they should search their supplies and the area for anything they can grow as a crop. It was quickly agreed upon to have small groups search the area and a few others to search their own suppies for anything to use as a crop. While the remainder were to immediately begin preparing fields to grow food as soon as possible. Hopefully, they would find something sturdy and hard for the weather to kill.

---

Prospecting and Sighting

Soon they would need perminant homes, Arngir knew this, for while they had sturdy enough homes in the mean time, they were still temporary and not quite... dwarven. They were right next to a mountain for a reason after all. He got a few others to agree, including a Goldbeard named Echadon*, that a group should search the nearby mountainside for minerals and ore, as well as scout where they could start building into the stone. While this was the objective of the group, numbering twelve, they would also climb up until they could clearly see over the forests and see how many mountains were around anything else worth noting. Echadon would lead the group, and for safety they all took simple wooden spears and some of the few worn axes they had, in case they were to run into anything that would wish harm upon them.

---

Makings of a Leader

With how well Arngir was doing as a sort of leader to them all, the elder dwarves, as well as the experienced and notable ones, were commonly gathered to discuss the possibility of making him the king of the clan. There were never any objections, but it was agreed to wait until anything was agreed upon.

Turn Action:

F) Improve resources/technology

The Scouts returned with quite the information about their surroundings, already marking positions to establish mines, quarries or a lumber mill , Amari Asto was proud of his people but most of the success was thanks to Manco who coordinated the prospecting the efforts over the course of the last months, but as always the decision of where to start exploiting the resources was left to Manco who like many of the Kingdom wanted to start building stone houses and buildings, just like back in the empire, where magnificent palaces were made out of stone and walls higher than hills defended the cities of the empire, after all, stone was a sturdy, strong and workable material, back in the empire it was also one of the most common materials and it could be found almost everywhere.

Although Manco was unimpressed for the decision he proceded with his common efficient way to work and soon enough working shifts, caravans and building materials were gathered and ready to be used. If Amari Asto wanted a city of stone he would get a city of stone and in between tools and other things could be done.

Turn 6

NPCs (non-player civs) are put on the map the same way as your settlements, only they have black text with their color outlining it, while players have their color outlined by black.

The Lothelonni

@Polybius



@Cyclone



@Chairman Stein
Edit: Player has dropped out. Civ will end next turn. Contacting others in queue.



@Lady Selune



@Murtox



@LordZell No post found. Player's civilization is standing still until player returns. Automatic dropout in 2 turns.



@Pirate



@Kangutso

---

X) Raise Army

As Dag made his way back to the settlement, he realized that their current method of hauling the iron to the blacksmith in Dagshall was proving to be difficult. In fact, it was the only limiting factor. The miners could dig up entire boulders of ore and have it processed quickly enough, but there was only so much iron that a cart could carry and only so fast that a tribesman could pull the cart. So when Dag arrived with one of the first deliveries of iron, the shipment wasn't the great surplus that the tribe had been imagining.

Still, there was enough for the smiths to begin crafting some new weapons and tools and so they got started with what iron they had. In the future they might look into finding a better method of transporting materials, but for now the carts were enough.

It was not long after the smiths finished the first of the new axes and knives that a man ran into Dagshall bearing news of how the miners had discovered an entire cavern full of giblins. The man had left immediately after; for all they knew, the giblins were attacking the mine even now.

Without hesitation, Dag demanded that everyone capable of holding lifting an axe assemble themselves into an army. The freshly forged axes and blades were swiftly grabbed, and after that the various levied warriors found other weapons. Old blunted axes that they had brought from the Fatherland, fishing harpoons, and hunting bows were all to be seen. They made do with what was available. Dag led them all at a quick march towards the mine. On the way he had little to do other than to steel himself for the worst. Still, there was some hope. The miners had not been entirely unarmed or defenseless, so an outright massacre was unlikely.

B) The elves awoke at peace. At peace, yet confused. The events in the forest felt as though they were merely a vivid dream, perhaps the product of some faintness or sickness. But it quickly became apparent that they had all had the same experience. What to make of it no one was sure of, but there was wide sense of relief. They had put the forest behind them, the orcs now felt like a distant threat and for the first time since their arrival on the continent they met a race of people that was not entirely savage. It might be said that they were rather rudely spirited away but in truth they were thankful that the dark elves or whatever spirit possessed the forest had spared them and carried them safely further on their way to their unknown destination.

It was decided that they would stop and rest for a while. The journey had been arduous and harrowing and now they had the opportunity to experience a bit of calm. But it was clear to them that they could not stay. They had been thrown out of the forest without a word and it seemed a safe bet that if they valued their lives they should not attempt to exploit it. So for now the weary, young, old, wounded, anyone who could use the time would have a moment of rest, while those of youthful vitality would go north and west to forage and hunt and perhaps find where they should go next.

Once they were rested, their journey had to continue.

Aemillia listened to the young man and nodded to what he said. "If the orks catch you, the divines themselves will not be able to bring you back home safe. May the mother protect you, the wanderer guide your steps and the warrior your blade. I certainly hope we will see you again Aurillius." She nodded and gae a curt salute, one hand over her breast, watching as he left.

Meanwhile, back home, prospecting was under way. On the island, surveyors poked and prodded, but now that boats were streaming across the passage, the mainland had become a focus too. Tents had been set up here and there, the scraping of shovels and clang of picks as stone was excavated for identification. Without iron, there would be no industry, and without industry the Maerinum could not thrive again.

Maxim sighed. He had hardly been a young man when they had made the crossing, and now his age was catching up to him. The sea air helped, as did his regular training, but he needed to impose himself as emperor soon, to mark his legacy. An emperor needed a temple to be crowned in, and so they would need a holy place for the divines to inhabit. This would be his greatest work.

F) Improve resources

As Amari Asto noticed that he forgot about something quite important indeed , he quickly called for Manco and told him to start building the Quarry the prospectors had talked about, he also said sorry to Manco for not listening before and so all was set, it was time to get that Quarry going so that his new kingdonm would have the stone needed to build the palaces and monuments that Amari Asto desired to have here , although it may take quite a while to get to that point.

From Pride in farming, to Judgement, what a day.

Arngir looked out at the new farms being made, they had been fortunate enough to gather several vegetable crops such as cabbage and corn, as well as some fruits born of trees, like the humble apple. While the terrain limited the size and methods, they would be able to make do with what they could for some time yet. Besides, when the time came, they could move the farms further down river where the terrain would be capable of supporting large rotation crops.

It was as he looked out over the farms that a few elders, Delvar among them, "Arngir, there is a matter that we seek your opinion on. Would you give us one?" Arngir gave the elder a sideways glance, wy would they want such a thing from him? "Yes elder, if you wish it."

It was then that Arngir was told about a dispute between families. There was no hiding his being perturbed by the fact that a family in the clan thought themselves higher than any others, since they were all slaves before they came here. He suggested the elders to make note of that, as it was not a good sign of what kind of people that family could become. As for the dispute itself... Arngir proposed that since they only had either family's word on the matter, and no third party witnesses, the dwarfling would be punished by being made to complete tough or menial tasks throughout the settlement for others. Under supervision, of course, preferably from one of the younger elders.

To most, the rotting stench that laced the air of the swamp would have been more then enough to drive away the person doing the smelling; To Gredy, it smelt of freedom.

For what had to be the first time in years, he woke up without shouting and kicks from some orcish task master in a makeshift hammock that hung above the muddy ground below; When the plan had come together to flee into the night to escape into the swamp, there had been some debate on what to use as bedding. Some of the other goblins had suggested trying to bring bedrolls and such, but Gredy had quickly put his foot down on the idea. Considering that they were going to be fleeing into a swamp were ground and water had a much more interesting relationship then in most other areas, Gredy had argued for the importance of sleeping off of the ground. Thus when they had fled into the night, they took a fair few fishing nets with them.

Rolling out of the hammock and placing his feet on the relatively solid ground that he had pitched as his for the time being, he looked around at the various little camps that had sprung up around the area. Considering the nature of the ground that they were on, camps tended to be based around what few areas of high ground that could be found since they were relatively solid and you were less likely to sink into the ground and drown in your sleep.

That... needed to change.

A settlement here wouldn't work if there wasn't somewhere safe and dry off the ground to store food. At the moment any supplies that were gathered would need to be used right away or the risk of losing them to the swamp was too great! It had taken some discussion, but the idea that was decided upon was simple enough; They needed to make a proper foundation that was raised up and above the swampy ground in order to give them a safe place to not only build their homes, but also to store supplies and food...

But before they could do -that-, they needed to know what resources that they had to work with so that they could properly build the best foundations that they could under the circumstances. With his head held high, Gredy stalked his way through the shadows of the swamp in order to find out what was out there.

The icy wind blew across the plains, it was cold no doubt, but for many lycans, this was the warmest weather they had ever experienced. Fires were only been build by many purely out of habit and the expectation of lower temperatures. The continent the race hailed from (referred to as Lycholme by most ) was truly freezing, with nights lasting longer than weeks in many cases and little plant life growing there. But they had endured. Just as they would endure any challenge this new land could conjure.

The leaders of each tribe stood in a hastily erected tent,made of the sails of their old ship. The rest of it would likely be used for construction later. Vlath stood in front of the other 3 chieftains, inspecting them for a moment before he began to speak "We have made it to our new home. We must first examine the area we have found ourselves in before any other work takes place" The Shadowclaw turned to Mex "I want your scouts to identify any wildlife or resources that we may use. Do not kill the wildlife, I have plans for them." The lycan nodded, Mex was not as large or experienced as the other chieftains but she would complete her task, she was loyal to her race and had been the first tribe to join the Shadowclaws when their uniting of the race began.
Next Vlath turned to Basir "Inspect the mountain to our north, I want any minerals of value identified so they may be mined soon." The lycan gave a bow to Vlath "As you wish, Voidcaller."
As the other two departed to carry out the High Voidcallers will, Grash spoke "What would you have me do, Vlath?" He spoke with submission in his voice, although Vlath could still feel the anger in it. The Bloodfangs had been the least compliant with his plans, it had taken many years to secure their service. Vlath replied in the same neutral tone he had spoke to the previous chieftains with "All I require from you Bloodfang, is to keep our people in check. You and your warriors are to prevent in-fighting among the tribes. Any lycan who kills another will be offered as a sacrifice to amend for their crime" Grash sighed slightly before bowing "As you wish. High Voidcaller" he said before exiting the tent.

---

I) Iceborn Diplomacy

This situation called for the Iceborn's manner of diplomacy: storming the mines. It was clear that these strange creatures were no more than beasts, and so their presence could not be tolerated. The mine had to be cleared out of their kind before it could resume operations.

Though Dag was no coward, he was also no fool. "They might have prepared a trap," he declared, "so who stands brave enough to go forward ahead of the rest?"

There were a few volunteers: two old men who no longer feared death (and in fact, probably desired a death in battle) and one youth heroic perhaps to the point of stupidity. Those three would be the first to charge down the mine and into any trap or ambush, so Dag praised them and prayed to the gods and ancestors to protect them.

Those three ran eagerly down the mine's tunnel, then the rest of the army followed after with Dag at their head. They formed a tight shieldwall and walked somewhat slowly because of it, but in these tight quarters a shieldwall would offer them good protection.

Dag's orders had been clear: any giblin that carried a weapon or fought would be slaughtered. The rest were to be taken prisoner, and those that struggled would of course be beaten into submission.

The general considered carefully what her next move would be. Attacking the main settlement would be a hopeless endevour, but the port... Their force could easily destroy that and show the orks that they were not the first peoples on this land, and were not safe from the might of Matem. With efficiency they packed up the camp they had been staying in and marched, the distance not far. They would not attack yet, she had an idea, and summoning a piece of parchment one night she wrote a message, folding it neatly away and sending it back with one of the supply ships.

Dear Father.

I hope this letter finds you well and blessed by the divines. We have discovered that whilst the main Ork town is unassailable with our current forces, we can raze the port that was responsible for the attacks on our fishing vessel. I beg of you, since I know that the Galleys must be finished by now, to send the boats, and some more conscripts, to attack the port from one side whilst we attack from the other, slaughtering the forces there.

May the divines watch over you for as long as the weaver allows.

Your daughter

Maxim crumpled the letter up and tossed it in the fire, before turning to the senate.

"It seems that they are too well fortified for us to attack them head on. We will send a galley to deal with the port, however this will not stand. Send surveyors to find iron, and Mannerlicher." He turned to the foreigner, a supposedly prodigious engineer, "you will, when we find iron, start to make us the war machines we need. Ballisti in particular." The forigner nodded as Maxim left.

The emperor thought to himself. They needed to find iron fast, and he needed a personal guard. There had been an attempt on his life, so it seemed he would need his own praetorian guard.

"We are the best, the bravest, the strongest. The Warrior has blessed us and the Smith protects us, and with our lives we ensure the Emperor may never lose his."- The Maxim of the Praetorian.