Klomster

From Dawn Till Dusk - Remastered

Seems my movement is monitored by others, i better keep guard.

Jokes aside i've looked at this RP, it seems like you've got a solid foundation here but looking at it i don't get any immediate ideas.
Those immediate ideas are important for me to feel hyped about a game.

I was thinking lizardmen, but then i felt like the game would feel a bit distant from the characters, i dunno, it might be awesome, but i just didn't get the spark.
Thanks for the invite though ;)

I'll subscibe and lurk though and see if any other nations spark my interest.

Titanfall II | War for the Frontier

Sup, curious about this one since i've been looking for an additional rp to play.

Some questions.
Let's say i want to play, i make a character and the names and stuff, choose weps, that's fine.
So i can't start with titans at all? Since they are all too expensive?
Can my character be a pilot? Since they seem really powerful and a free pilot seems way too good to pass up.
Can the IMC and Apex have pilots? Since pilots are only mentioned and only given cost in the 6-4 and the rebels.

But apart from those questions, i shall provide a character following the rules as best i can.

Character and division

Warhammer division.

Markings: The warhammer division paint their combat units in black with a white vertical line on their right side. Their icon is a white warhammer being swung.

Division type: Warhammer usually works in engineering operations, building field fortifications and besieging enemy fortifications. Other jobs include mine clearing, road clearing, wood clearing. Often referred to as "obstacle eliminations" within the division.

Units:
3 x R.E.A.P.E.R. units (1500)

10 Engineers, grunts. (200)
Armed with EVA-8's and A-walls plus an assortment of tools like drills, welding torches, entrenching tools, explosives and repair tools.

10 BRD-1 Specters. (300)
Armed with Spitfires and electric smoke grenades.

1 Goblin dropship. (x)
This one has been severely stripped down and only works as a transport unit.

1 Gremlin 4x4. (x)

2 Samson trucks. (x)

(Transports without combat capability and no written costs are currently counted as free, if you disagree with this please inform and i'll modify.)

Titans: No titan support.

Commander/Leader:

Ma boi

Name: John Harper.

AKA: Halberd.

Appearance: A gruff man in his 30's and with bionic replacements of his right arm, right eye, parts of his torso and his right leg, he has black hair with a few grey hairs and a well trimmed and very short beard. Looking nearly painted on because of its neatness.
His right eye is white and his left is green.

He wears a leather coat with his combat armour beneath it. Apart from its effectiveness, the modification he's most thankful of fitting in is its environmental system which regulates temperature, keeping it a nice cool in all conditions apart from extremes.
He mostly only carries his pistol on him, but sometimes carry a decorated saber.

Equipment:
Weapons:
B3 wingman Elite.
X-55 devotion.
Charge rifle.
Heavy modified combat armour. The modifications make it more sleek and form fitting.
A decorated saber (fully useful, but not effective against infantry armour).

Faction: IMC

Divisions: Warhammer

Background: Born on Typhon, he was schooled to become a researcher and did well in school, feeling rebellious however he changed his education to engineering, much to his parents dismay.

Being a skilled individual and granted permission by the IMC, he has performed and finished several pilot qualification programs such as salvage, deep-space search and rescue, loading and construction.
However due to an accident his right arm and leg was scorched badly and needed to be amputated. Exchanged for bionic replacements.
Due to not being qualified for combat operations, he is not given the option of regeneration, something he would also refuse if given the option seeing he would jeopardise his expertises in other fields.

Due to this, he has no hope of ever clearing the combat qualification due to mobility restrictions, even if his skills at shooting and close quarter was actually on par with pilot training.
He has served with IMC for a long time as part of Warhammer, but during the events of operation broadsword the division was severely battered and lost its commander.
Mostly since all ground assets were destroyed, the surviving parts of warhammer got away on the ship they were stationed on waiting to reinforce their ground forces.

With his home destroyed due to the vile rebels and his division being severely damaged in that event, he was approved to take command of Warhammer division.
He is a decent leader and very intelligent with a large set of skills.

Faction: IMC

Loyalty: 0

Military power: 2000

Reputation: To be defined.

Lore: The warhammer division is deployed in areas where fortifications, repair and construction are needed by IMC allied contingents. The warhammer division is well versed in repair and field operations and are composed of clever individuals. They are all well versed in Titan repair and modification as well and bring such tools to the field.
Its contingent of specters are only for defence of the division itself, thus not having to rely on carrying it ammunition over greater distances and as such carries heavier weapons.

Thanks in advance.

Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies

A meeting in the desert

Peering over the honestly arid wasteland in front of them from a cliff, two corpsmen from the Steel Fist gazed upon the field below. They were part of Claus so called scout corps and were used to scout ahead and report back to the steelhead. Right now they were taking a break and eating some jerky when their quarry was spotted.

Earlier, they had spotted riders, but not just any riders, Seikatsu riders. They weren't sure if they had been spotted themselves but they had returned to the main force and reported. This had intrigued Claus, he didn’t really know why there would be Seikatsu riders in the deserts, but he’d heard of the Grim company and his curiosity had been sparked.

This time, the two had been sent out to try and contact them. Johan scurried up, with jerky filling his mouth he raised a makeshift “flag”, a stick with a mostly white sock attached to it.
He stood up clearly and raised his banner high and waved in large motions, he was sure the riders would soon spot him.

Cautiously they closed, ready to attack with their readied spears, but both sides realized that this was only a scout team from each side. When the rider was way within shouting distance, he lowered his flag and held up a letter.

”It’s an offer of parley. For your leader.” Johan said clearly, offering the letter to the rider.

The Ishido eyed the Formarothian carefully before riding forward, his companion remaining several yards away with an arrow laid across his bow. A scarred hand was held out, the fingers closing around the letter. Ishido’s gaze never left Johans as the letter vanished, getting tucked beneath the samurais chest plate. He nodded at Johan and then turned and the two spurred away out into the desert, vanishing over the rise and into the darkness.

* * * * *

Tokugawa Ieasu turned the letter over in his hands, a messy but official looking wax seal on it. The paper was local, the writing messy, typical of what he had come to expect from Formarothians. He drew out a wickedly sharp knife from his waist regraded the seal for a moment. He recognized it as the new Imperial seal. Pondered for a moment and then swiftly slit the paper and drew out the document.

The writing was atrocious and it took him some time to figure out exactly what it said. At length he managed to decipher the writing.

“What does it say?” Lady Grim was sitting nearby, her feet up on a small futon, sipping green tea from a scalding hot mug, despite the evening desert heat.

“It seems that Claus, the man of the Steel Fist, is writing to you to discuss your motivations. He wishes to move an army through this area. He has had he would like to meet you, alone, five miles south of here. At the rock that looks like an Otters tail at midnight.”

She nodded. She knew the stone well. It was easy for anyone standing beside it to see the entire desert around. You couldn’t sneak up on a person there. “I will go.”

Tokugawa simply nodded. Arguing with her would be pointless. They would be able to keep a band of cavalry out of sight a mile or so away. Not that it would matter, Lady Grim was more than a match for any individual man.

It was twenty minutes later that Lady Grim and her escort thundered out of camp and into the desert.

* * * * *

Lady Grim knelt next to a small blaze set at the base of the Otter tail stone. She gazed into the flames, her magic flaring out around her, pulsing across the desert like a heartbeat. Sand trickled slowly between her fingers as she took up fistfuls and poured them from one hand to the other. Her escort waited out in the desert, well clear of the meeting place, as she waited for the Steel Fist.

Having only a small clue who to expect, Claus closed in on the Otter tail stone, something one of the guys had said was a landmark, it sure was a landmark, and the namesake was apt since one could easily see the smooth slightly curved spike rising into the starlit sky.

One could make out a small fire beneath the thing and some distance away a small bodyguard unit of samurai was seen. It was only Claus, Harper and Goyle who had closed with the place and he had them wait roughly the same distance away from the stone as the samurai, albeit from a different angle.

After making his way up a winding stone path, composed of a sort of natural staircase he eventually entered the globe of light that was the firelight illuminating its surroundings, seeing a woman beside it, very good looking, gorgeous even with her striking red hair. He noticed her pouring sand in between her hands.

”You doing some sort of prayer?” He said as he chose a comfy spot, standing with his hands on his hips in a laid back style, even stretching his back a little.

Rhaetia regarded the Formarothian as he struck what he probably thought was some sort of heroic pose. She stood now, letting the sand fall from her hand, until she was eye to eye with him. “The famous Claus of the Iron Fist. I am honoured.” There was a hint of sarcasm in her tone but she was intrigued nonetheless. “What can I do for you?”

He was going to correct her on the name but decided against it, he sighed and gave up for a second before reinvigorating himself and replying.

“The infamous lady Grim I assume? We meet at last. Never had the pleasure before.” He hadn’t made the connections before, but then again the Grim company wasn’t usually seen outside Seikatsu either. “What you can do is tell me what you’re doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” Her comment was flat and conveyed a promise of violence.

Claus noticed the hint of aggravation, this was no ordinary lass, something was off. “I’m here on orders of the Concord to mop up heretics, help solve the churches mess.” He was working on figuring out the odd woman in front of him, licking his teeth under his lips.

“The church!” Her laugh was almost a bark. “A mess of lies and treachery in its own right. Well, my armoured acquaintance, it seems the heretics are not so keen on being mopped up, which means we will have to fight.”

“So you’re working with the heretics? That’s unfortunate. Wouldn’t want to face the Grim company in combat after the stories….” He stroked his chin for a while, then got his most devious face and a shit-eating grin when he looked up at Grim.

* * * * *

A battle between legends

The morning was still cool and crisp, the sun not yet above the skyline, when the Steel Fist along with the concord forces crested a small ridgeline and looked down into the long valley that ran north to south, their road into the heartland of the enemy.

They were greeted by a roar of noise as the heretics danced and waved their weapons in the air. Trenches had been dug and sharpened stakes planted all along their land that marked the very edge of the green scrub grass. Behind them the oasis was dark against the white sand of the desert dunes but only a fool would miss the massed companies of the Grim Company, their trademark silence somehow made all the more menacing and unsettling then their horde of savage screaming allies.

The stark contrast between the parts of the Concord force was immense, the majority who were militia was sloppy and ragtag at best, formed into some semblance of formations on each side of the vanguard, the Steel Fist.

Flanking them were the beautiful formation of knights, while few compared to the numbers of the Grim cavalry they certainly wore better armour and seemed more drilled. In reserve was the armsmen of Orog, their green uniforms vibrant in the matte landscape. The sloppy walking of the militia was in stark contrast to the perfectly synchronized march of the Steel Fist, their footfalls in unison and black banners held high. Behind them the crossbowmen and mage support set up their pavises overlooking the regular corpsmen since they deployed in a downward slope.

With a synched footfall and a shout the Steel Fist came to a halt, the rest more meandered close to where they would hold positions before the battle. So far both forces stood outside effective archery range, simply studying the other. The tension was in the air and sobs could be heard from the Telmarian militia upon seeing the arrayed banners of the Grim company. The thought of having to fight the force which most of them just know realized had more samurai than they had militia.

Arrayed before the Concord, the Grim company and their tribal allies numbered nearly five and a half thousand men, with the primary force consisting of the Grim company itself. A silence fell across the battleground.

For the spear wielding mob the sight of their enemy was too much. As soon as the Concord Forces halted their advance, the tribesmen gave a wild yell and surged across the open ground toward the still deploying enemy force. They were a fearsome sight indeed, these warriors of the desert, fueled by liquor and the strange mushrooms that grew only in the deepest shadows of the high dunes. They were infamous for their ignorance to pain and fear. The same could not be said for their enemies.

Almost giving into panic, the militia stood firm only because of their allies nearby and their sergeants telling them to hold firm.
A single barrage from the Steel Fist crossbowmen was all that could be mustered before they hit home, bolts raining into the poorly armoured warriors, whom surprisingly took few casualties as they kept charging, some with several crossbow bolts deep in their flesh.

The mage support preparing wards and shields to protect from the soon to come missile and magic barrage that the Grim company was expected to let loose, since almost half their numbers wielded the Seikatsu longbows.

The tribesmen smashed into the Concord Militia with a wet thud of meat and steel, a sharp contrast to the often heard bards tales of clashing steel and shining chivalry. Driven by their “divine spirit”, the tribesmen wreaked havoc on their more heavily armed foes as they ignored the steel that gouged at their flesh, in some cases dragging men down to tear at their throats with bare teeth.

Claus let loose a horncall, the signal for the battlemages to prepare a fireball, five of them formed a circle and began to form it, half a minute it was channeled in mid air and then cast into the line of the raged tribesmen, rolling along their battleline setting dozens aflame and drenching the frontline in a horrid smell of burnt flesh and fat. The screams were drowned out by the horn of the Steel Fist, signalling a complex mix of calls.

With effortless ease, the Steel Fist began to envelop the tribesmen from one side, as the heavy cavalry flanked in from the other and sprang a mighty charge.
The carnage was immense. Roughly a thousand, the tribals stood no chance against the combined might of the Concord, especially without magical support and they were cut down to a man.

Several calls were made and the Concord army reformed, ready to face the Grim company proper, the smoke from the fires settled, revealing…… the long valley below, a few sad looking trees, sandy soil, and not a banner in sight, it was as if the Grim company had vanished in the smoke.

”Stay firm! They could be anywhere!” Claus boomed out, reassuring his men and preparing for the worst. Silence was the only answer, a few cries of wounded men the only sound in the valley as vultures began to soar above.

Collab done with @The Wyrm & @Klomster

Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies

Imperial Formaroth transport fleet, nearing Coruneon.

Imperial Formaroth transport fleet, nearing Coruneon.
It had taken days to just organise the force and get them to the transport fleet based in the harbor. Half a day to just load the men unto the ships and the fleet had sailed east for some time before spotters on the foremost ship called ‘land ahoy’. Something Claus had waited on for some time.
As usual he had made sure to be placed on the first ship in the flotilla as to be the first of his men to make landfall, he preferred to lead from the front, even if it was a bit foolish at times.

He stood at the fore and gazed upon the closing land of Coruneon, he didn’t really look forward to meeting up with his additional forces there. He was to meet up with the forces of Wulfrick and Greensworth, people he had no grudges against. No, the problem was the forces of Tuania, of whom he had a bit of a recent history with. He hoped they wouldn’t try to assassinate him or something.
He stood with a foot atop a barrel and held onto a rope for balance, wearing his new armour, it was mostly a new cuirass but he had made sure to order it reinforced over the breast, with fluting for extra strength and bordered with roping for added flair. It was now blued to a black sheen instead of painted black and painted with the clenched white fist atop its surface.
He had kept his old helmet, now reshaped to be even again, but it had a slight bend to it still and most of the old battle scars.

The wind blew strongly, but not too harshly. With a strong salty smell and taste in the air which Katrina could smell and taste as she approached Claus.

“You’ve been rather quiet the past few days sir” Katriana said with a smirk. After her voyages between Sypius and Telmarion she had grown accustomed to the sea, even if her legs still shook a bit “You still haven’t explained why you made me visit my uncle. I was quite content using couriers to reach out to him, even if it used up half my wages to do so” She said as she rubbed the back of her head where her uncle had slapped her. She had barely said two words before he had done it. It was clear he was not happy that she had run off to join the steel fist. At the very least after the first half an hour of shouting he had calmed down. As frustrated as she had been with him prior to leaving it was good to talk to him again. She was just relieved that she hadn’t ruined their relationship. As much as they drove each other up the wall, they still loved each other, in their own stubborn hardened way. It was strange, while it was clear he wanted her to come back he almost now seemed content with the decisions she had made. He had always been so protective of her during her childhood, perhaps he had finally come to accept she was old enough to make her own choices. Not that the stubborn bastard would ever admit it.

Claus stood and watched for a few seconds before turning his head and answering.
-”I guess i wanted you to save your wages to buy other stuff.” The smirk betrayed his lie, which was exactly his intention.
-”As for being quite we’re off to war, lots of things to think about.” He turned away and avoided the question, it wasn’t too obvious but Katrina picked up on it.

“But that’s not all is it sir”? Katriana said, unamused by how Claus avoided her question “Ever since you met my uncle you have been acting weird around me”.
Only now did Claus turn his head to her, eyed her from top to bottom and then smiled.
-”Ever the stubborn one are we? Alright i’ll tell, I was worried if you’d feel vengeful with me after sending you to get things from the place you ran away from.” Claus smirked faked a sheepish expression.

Katriana’s face turned sour as Claus continued to avoid her question. She knew it was no coincidence that Claus visited her uncle shortly after her own meeting with the emperor. They all knew something about her mother and they were all keeping it from her. Still she knew how stubborn Claus was, if she tried to push now it would likely backfire and make him more persistent in not telling her. She would have to bide her time.

“What’s our first move once we land, sir” Katriana said, not trying to hide the bitterness in her voice.
Noticing her sour mood, he ignored the whole idea completely.
-”On landfall in Coruneon we’ll meet up with the Telmarion, Orog and Nash forces and their assigned dirtbags and lords in that order, you’ll have to do a lot of counting and then we’ll plan the final move up north.”

“What do you expect we’ll face” Katriana replied “Based on what the couriers have said Lycaon is doing well enough clearing out the rebels without our help”.
-”What i expect? Hopefully it ain’t elephants.” Claus almost shuddered at the thought, he kept on.
-”Those are a real bother, so preferably none of those. Otherwise i’m not sure, probably some Uzgobian militia types, some regulars and perhaps a squadron of tribal auxiliary, but I'm not counting on those.” He was seriously considering what sort of enemies might show up. He was also unsure if any nobles forces would fight for the uprising, he pondered and stroke his chin. He shrugged.
-”There’s a big chance the couriers are correct and we’re only coming in to mop up the remnants. So let’s hope for that.”

Normally Katriana would have laughed at Claus’s comment regarding the elephants. Instead she simply turned around and headed back below deck.
A bit solemnly, Claus watched Katriana leave before returning his gaze towards the shore.
He didn’t like that Katriana was angry with him, she was a stubborn lass, that’s for sure.

Coruneon shore.

Coruneon shore.
Much like he landed in Telmarion, Claus made sure he was among the first to make landfall in the first landing skiff. Walking up to some lesser officers waiting for his arrival.
What worried Claus greatly was a distinct lack of banners in the nearby encampment, missing large portions of the expected forces, even if the lack of Tuania banners was a relief.
The officers gave a nod and greeting with ‘General’.
-”What in Timtos festive surprises is this? I’m not seeing the banners i’m expecting!” Claus was annoyed and wanted answers, the younger officer present looked slightly taken aback while the older nodded and answered.
-”Not lord Timtos ser, it’s orders from above, the uprising is deemed not important and most of the forces are being sent to support the war in Seikatsu.”
Claus was slightly surprised when answering.
-”Seikatsu? Against the elves? Why wasn’t I sent there? I have a lot of experience in elven battle tactics and strategy.”
The group had begun walking and a pair of corpsmen intercepted the entourage which began to march towards the camp. The older officer reported once more.
-”No idea ser, can’t fathom the thinking of the imperial family, think it’s from them. You were to keep marching upon Uzgob.”
-”Hmph, well boss probably has a reason to, I just don’t like sudden changes of plans. Alright, let’s begin to assess our forces, my quartermaster is right behind me and with her i’ll begin the assessment of our forces.” Following that was a thorough assessment of the forces to march upon Uzgob, with the Tuania section and several others missing, there was only four and a half thousand troops left for the north.

Claus found himself once more with a local lordling, on an eastern shore inspecting troops that would be fighting against forces from Uzgob and just like last time, he was walking in front of Telmarion militia with broken spears and rotten shields.
At least lord Petrus Bornian of Coruneon wasn’t the snob Tuania was, but a similar sense of pride washed over him when they walked in front of his own forces. Claus at least was happy that the primary Coruneon unit of his supporting forces were at least armed properly, even if their haphazard training showed through in how the men stood at attention, given that calling what they did was ‘standing at attention’ by any standard was a bit of an overstatement..
This time he had enough and simply rubbed the bridge of his nose and just kept inspecting the troops.

Following the militia groups was something Claus was surprised and happy to see, even if he had little experience in leading cavalry personally.
Arrayed with banners held high and the cavaliers being at full attention with lances held high, the heavy cavalry from Nash was a beauty to behold.
-”Now we’re talking, how many of these gentlemen do we have?” Claus asked hopefully, but his hopes was slightly crushed when the answer was five hundred.
-”I see… well we’re here for mop up anyway. I’ll just have to make do.” He longingly took a closer look at one of the Nash armsmen, flawless attention and great control of his horse, clad in plated maillé and a visored helm with a striking black and white plume. A fine white silk Sash draped over the breastplate of the cavaliers.

He finished his inspection, obviously showing off his Steel Fist forces to lord Bornian, who were more impressed than young boy Tuania had been, which gave Claus good hope for this campaign and his new ally.
Overall two thousand militia from Coruneon, a thousand more from Telmarion even though Claus almost preferred not to have them. From Orog a thousand arms men were gathered, while not crack troops he saw that they were dependable and of course he had his Nash cavalry, his ace in the sleeve apart from his own vanguard.

Sitting in the command tent, Claus, lord Bornian his aides and Katriana had at length discussed marching orders and various details of logistics and inter combat group relations.
Katriana herself was pleased that the numbers were so low. On a more selfish side it meant far less work for her but on the other it also meant that the threats they were to face in Uzgob were likely to be less formidable than they originally thought. Afterall Katriana doubted Alasdair would send his forces all the way to Seikatsu otherwise. Unless perhaps the imperium posed an even greater threat than she could imagine, the thought made her shudder.

“Considering that we have far less soldiers to have to outfit now, we may want to consider getting decent equipment for the Telmarion forces, else they may be something of a liability” Katriana reported to Claus, she had allowed her bitterness towards him to subside for now while she focused on her job.

-”Giving them our practice stuff would be better than their own gear.” His bitterness was showing through. “But to outfit that large a group on short notice will take some time. Also is the fact that the Tuanias should have been outfitting their poor sods in an acceptable way before sending them off to war so I'm not inclined to pay their expenses… but then again their weapons are pretty much rubbish, so I'm keeping the suggestion open, what do you sirs think about that?” Claus turned to Borneas and his aides, whom pondered the question and lord Borneas was the first to mouth his view on the matter.
-”The outfitting of the Telmarian militia is hardly of concern, we’re not expecting heavy fighting and as General Rotstein pointed out it would take valuable time, time we could be moving or fighting battles and generally finishing up this whole Uzgob ordeal.” Several nods from the aides and Borneas quartermaster added.
-”I agree with lord Borneas, while the poor equipment of the militia is an apparent threat to their fighting potential, we’re mostly here to do mop up after the church. On top of the fact that they should indeed have been equipped better by their masters, something i suggest we bring to attention in the campaign reports.” More agreements from those present apart from Claus and Katriana whom were concerned about the whole deal.
-”True, but what if there is a proper battle or two? A full third of our forces would be close to useless in such an event. That’d be possibly devastating.” Claus concerns were truthful but met little support.
-”Lord Borneas, do you have any weapons that could be used by the militia? The empire would of course buy them or return them after the campaign.” His question was direct but without any real emotion.

“As you know, Coureon has numerous strongholds and hillforts scattered around the kingdom. Each one has its own barracks so that the local militia can quickly arm themselves in the event of an invasion. Provided we have a guarantee that our losses will be compensated I could send word to the fort’s quartermasters to have the weapons and arms delivered to us”? Lord Borneas responded.
Claus pondered slightly, before answering.
-”It’s good that you are willing to lend the arms should they prove useful elsewhere, however i feel that it would waste far too much time to send for those arms and have them distributed, especially with the fact that the church has dealt with the primary threat in this campaign. So considering that we’ll not be bringing those weapons, the Tuanias should have armed their men properly to begin with.” He put forth his opinion matter of factly but one could notice the hint of disapproval in the mentioning of house Tuania.
Upon this turn Katriana got a bit reserved and bitter but didn’t word the fact. She did want those poor souls to be armed better and she recalled the siege of Clarm.
She also recalled the battle of Telmarion where thousands of similarly armed men had been slaughtered by the Mandarass forces, barely any chance for survival. It was a miracle by Timtos or Leplo that any survived at all.
She however understood Claus reasoning and kept her mouth shut.

The rest of the meeting was for lots of details like marching order and supply chains, where all present did their best to figure out the best solution for all the problems they could think of.
Almost two hours later the imperial force moved out, north, to Uzgob.
It was a long march ahead and the imperial forces were moving at a decent pace, still not knowing what would come next.

Collab by Me and master Morgan

Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies

Nyhem, a day after the training session beneath the ruined tower.

Nyhem, a day after the training session beneath the ruined tower.
The grey clouds and snow mixed rain was effective in making everything slightly damp. Claus had made sure to oil his armour fully before setting out but that didn't stop the water from somehow reaching him inside the suit anyway.
He wore a woolen cloak to protect himself from the weather, had he not he would be shivering right now but with it he was just damp and annoyed.
The streets were a dull grey tone, few were out and those who were wore similar cloaks as Claus, hiding their frames just showing where they were going.
Claus himself wasn't sure where this was going to lead, but he had gotten a funny feeling after Katrina had been to her meeting with the emperor.
The emperor himself had written a message detailing that Katrina would be kept safe, away from field battles and other dangers.
Why did Alasdair care about Katrina's safety? Wasn't she just some blacksmiths daughter?
Claus didn't appreciate secrecy, sneaking around and performing acts in the dark all cloak and dagger, he didn't swing that way at all.
But this was about Katrina, someone who had turned out to be invaluable to the fist and someone he realized he actually cared about. Not many of those around.
Deciding to solve this mystery, he had ordered his men to ask around a bit and they had figured out that Katrina had lived with her uncle Roland.
She had been adopted by him following mysterious circumstances. They were unclear and riddled with fantastical rumors, some frankly unbelievable.
He moved past the renowned 'The pointed needle' and saw 'black iron smithy' across the street of the Bazaar, the place he had ordered his new suit of armour.
But he wasn't going there, he turned and went past the bazaar and into a smaller side street, approaching a smaller smithy. 'The Brass hammer.'
Katrina had told him this was a good place, but not where he wanted to go when he ordered the mace for Alasdairs coronation, when he thought about it she had seemed rushed about the place and he couldn't put his finger on it then.
Now it seemed it was the place where her uncle lived, perhaps he wasn't a deciding factor in Katrina joining up with the Steel Fist, perhaps she had even run away. Little rascal she was he thought.
It was just a few houses left, he wasn't unprepared and flicked his head signalling his two corpsmen who were nearby to await further orders.
He saw their cloak covered forms take cover beneath some roofs, trying to escape the rain.
With an initial stride in his step he aimed for the little shoppe and crossed an alleyway when his blood turned ice and his resolve shattered as he spotted something to his left at the corner of his eye.

Wearing a worn black cape, with tattered auburn hair and a rusted cuirass of the steel fist, the helmet concealing her face. A rotting pavise on her back. What made the warrior the most recognizeable was the battle-worn corseque bound with ragged cloth bands along its shaft, drenched in caked blood and fluttering in the wind.
She stared at Claus, that dark stygian void that should have been her eyes stared right into the core of his being and the only thing he could feel was horror and guilt.
His legs wanted to give way, but they didn't, he wanted to move but he was petrified.
With a slow, purposeful inevitability she lowered the corseque and pointed it at him.
-"You abandoned me... everyone..." Her voice stern and with a hint of anger.

Piercing through the panic his guilt took over, he quickly turned towards the alleyway but it was empty, a faint rolling thunder in the distance as he stared into an empty street curving out of sight.
He panted heavily for a moment, then he walked to the smithy.
Hallucinating during the day, he needed a drink. Something strong.
His men had noticed his distress and were looking at him curiously, he did a handwave ordering them to stand down, with a shrug they went back to covering from the rain, as best they could.

A small bell rang as he entered the smithy, it was warm and smelled of burning coals inside.
In the backroom a man could be heard and the unmistakable sound of rummaging through metal objects, grunting and a few small curses could be heard before the man began to move.
As he waited, Claus observed the things for sale.
It was mostly iron fittings, door handles, candle holders and loads of nails. A few blades were standing in a stand which had a rudimentary but sturdy lock so no one could steal them without at least making some sounds while doing it.
His eyes fell upon a wicked falchion, heavy and with a hint of rust, not a pretty blade at all, but for some reason it reminded him of himself.

The blacksmith rubbed his hands with a rag as he entered the room, greying hair and a slow gait betrayed his slight aging, but he was no older than fifty.
He was reciting a greeting spiel when he looked up and saw Claus and froze, just uttering.
-"You!...." A concoction of emotions were brewing inside the man before Claus, he on the other hand spoke.
-"Are you Roland, Katrina's uncle?"
-"Where is she?! You have some nerve coming here, i should....!" The smith had lost his temper and quickly walked up to Claus spitting accusations, but had stopped in his tracks when he noticed Claus empty ice cold stare combined with the fact he hadn't even moved when a muscly smith had approached him in anger.
-"You should be anwering my question, that's what you should. I'm imperial advisor of war after all." Claus made a quick tootless smile lacking emotion and looking completely fake.
-"Yes... of course ser.... i am Roland Nikos... Katrina's uncle." Claus eyed him up and down before speaking.
-"We should talk, got a place to sit?" Claus question was met with a nod and the smith showed the way to a hidden staircase.

The two men sat down over a heavy table roughened by age and Roland put down a bottle of decent cider and two cups, Claus opened it and pured two servings.
Roland sat down and had a tired guilty expression.
-"I'm sorry for my first response, it's just that i'm angry for Katrina and it felt like your fault." He wasn't looking at Claus during his apology and Claus sipped some cider before offering the other cup.
-"Look up gramps, just shows you care for the lass." Roland looked up and met eyes with a smirking Claus offering him cider, this lightened his heart and he took the offered cup and sipped as well.
-"So, how is she doing? I heard she's well off, some sort of officer or something." He was curious but spoke with sort of lost hope, almost sad.
-"She's lieutenant Katrina Nikos, head logistician of the Steel fist." Claus was trying to be comforting with his words. It worked to some extent as the man looked down and let out a relieved smile.
-"Young Katrina is getting somewhere after all. I feared she would end up on the streets when she ran off."
-"Ran off? You weren't taking care of her?" Claus voice had a hint of spite in them, he took a gulp of cider.
-"No no, don't get me wrong, i did my best, told her all i could think of. Did my best to take care of her. But she's always so stubborn... from her mother." Roland hurriedly answered to clear his name, to this Claus chuckled and said.
-"Oh that sounds like Katrina. No doubt about it. Please carry on."
-"Well she wanted to travel, do all these things, like going on a ship, see dragons and unicorns, meet a handsome prince and become something... all i wanted her to be was a safe blacksmith.... perhaps i was a bit overprotective..." Roland sighed as he contemplated his choices in life, Claus spoke up in response.
-"Ey, sounds like you did your best to raise her. Sounds better than my own father even... nevermind. So she felt trapped, that's what you are saying?"
Roland rotated his cup and looked into it before answering.
-"Yeah, when you put it like that i did trap her a bit. But my father had just died when her mother died, i didn't want to loose her too."
Claus nodded and looked to the side, he added a response.
-"Sounds like she was close, rough stuff." Roland was slightly annoyed at his expression, but realized that the man in front of him didn't talk ill of her but this was how he always expressed himself. Blunt and earnest.
He saw a certain charm to it, but was still annoyed with him, especially since he was already on his second cup.
-"Is it that good?" He pointed at Claus cup with a hint of sceptiscism to it, Claus understood the hint and looked at his cup which was almost empty and counted in his head which one it was.
-"You're right, it's not 'that' good." He gulped down the last of the cup and made a point of putting it out of reach. He asked.
-"So, i'm not one for speaking around subjects. I think you know why and now i ask. Why would the emperor ask me to keep Katrina away from fighting and keep her safe?" He looked Roland deadpan in the eyes, Roland was slightly taken aback by this and answered.
-"That's strange, but perhaps he likes her." Roland wasn't looking at Claus and Claus didn't believe him a single bit.
-"Yeah, the emperor meets her once and suddenly he feels responsible for her and want to keep her safe because he 'likes' her. Makes perfect sense." At likes Claus even made quotation marks and was letting know how ridiculous this sounded to him.
Roland had hoped Katrina and the emperor would have met several times and his lie would make some sense, but right now he was cornered.
He was raising his voice a bit and almost shouted.
-"I don't know, perhaps he'd like to bed her! What would i know!?" He met Claus gaze which didn't budge for a second, he wasn't believing any of this, he knew this smith knew something.
-"Cut the crap gramps. You know something and you are going to tell me!" With a surge of anger, Roland stood up and inhaled furiously, resting his hands on the table.
He then realized in front of him sat the imperial advisor of war, the legendary captain of the Steel Fist and it showed that he had fought most of his life.
Exhaling deeply through his nose Roland let his anger go and sat down.
-"Damn you, you oaf... there is no escaping it with you. Alright i'll tell you!" He took a moment to gather his wits, while Claus settled in more comfortably and took his hand from his dagger.
-"Her mother you see, Anna, was a handmaiden of Ruth... queen Ruth. And her father was Heylot Remonet..." Roland let the weight of this sink in, Claus was puzzling together the situation as best he could. After a pause he responded.
-"So... Katrina is a bastard of the mad king... that's..." Claus was surprised and confused, but then realized the weight of this as he said it out loud.
-"Yes, she's the bastard child of king Heylot." Roland confirmed Claus conclusion and kept on.
-"So that's why she's important, why she's being protected. I suppose the Snake is choosing his next move between marrying her or disposing of her. Ptwaa!" Roland spat at the end of his sentence, showing his disgust at the whole ordeal.

This did change everything, sure she was a bastard but even then she had a legitimate claim to the throne, unlike so many others including the current emperor.
Claus smirked at the situation and said.
-"Well, that means i'll have to make sure she's safe then." He seemed oblivious to the importance of the situation. Roland spoke up again.
-"Oh and one more thing, Katrina knows nothing of this. Far as she knows her father was a drunk who shared a single night with her mum in a tavern."
-"Then i won't tell her for now. Since we're going to Uzgob, she would be distracted." Claus said with an earnest tone.
-"Uzgob... to war... please keep her safe ser!" Roland was worried.
-"Don't worry gramps, it's in everyones interest she remains safe and sound. Plus she will be in my baggage train keeping track of things, i have no intention of letting any enemies close to them." Claus winked and smirked before settling into a more comfortable seat with his legs crossed over a chest. The two sat in silence for a while before Claus spoke up again.
-"You know i feel like i owe you one, for barging into your home and you raising such a great logistician. I'm gonna order fifty door mechanisms for inner doors. And that falchion downstairs, i'll buy it as well." Claus was completely no-nonsense about the whole thing while Roland almost choked on his cider.
-"That's... unexpected." He calmed when the suddenness of it had passed.
-"Also, that way i can have Katrina go here and pick them up, BUT!" Claus stood up as he said this but raised his finger and his voice at the end.
-"She does have to go with me on the campaign. I know you want her back but she's coming, and if you try anything i'll send in my vanguard to get her back." He said it in a joking mood, but was dead serious.
Roland shone up since he hadn't met Katrina since she ran away from home.
-"Don't worry ser, i'll just give her a telling to she deserves."
-"I'm sure you will." Claus said with a smirk as he left the room.

The Fumes of War

Kingdom of Svedira

Kingdom of Svedira.

The flag of Svedira is in three parts, at times the parts hang vertically. The charge is then turned so that it always is upright.

Geography:

Svedira lands are almost exclusively mountainous. Steep slopes, rocky platous and the odd glacier here and there. Forests exist but they are deep and dark and steeped in folklore and mystique. Wood isn't a commonly utilized material at all in Svedira and so the woods are left almost alone since the middle ages.

Geographical Location of Country:

probably neighbouring Vercigetorix

|Country Size:| Roughly Small.
Each square pixel of the map is around 256 kilometres, or 16x16 kilometres.

Cities:

Cities: Logusû
The grand Capital of the kingdom of Svedira. A tiered fortress carved into a mountain with the royal palace at the top. Large parts of the town has been clad in red marble and Logusû is known as the "Red city" to many.
The sun reflects on the gold trims of the palace and in the red marble of the city which makes it a beautiful place.

Pross
This city is far less impressive. Constantly covered in black smoke, the smokestacks outnumber the population it would seem and there is always noise of industry somewhere.
This is the biggest producer of Steel in Aeagan. And coal comes out of the mountain on large conveyor belts in an unending stream.

Sentra
Much less of a city but more of a massive village, it is here the majority of the farms of Svedira reside. Since the entire place is strewn along cliff faces and mountain-tops, even more so than Logusû and Pross the area is exhausting to hike through and vehicles are basically useless.
But an experiment with a strength suit similar to the warsuit is at times used to carry things. But the best way to automate this area is with expensive lift contraptions.

Natural resources:

There is one thing that exist in the moutains of Svedira above all else. Coal.
Coal has fueled the state ever since it was first found in the rocky slopes during the middle ages and it has been mined ever since. The massive veins seem to have no end and the sky runs black from all the coal fires.
One of the primary uses of the coal is to smelt the high quality iron which is abundant as well in the mountains of Svedira.

With their age old focus on coal and steel, their metallurgical knowledge of this material is unsurpassed in Aeagan and none produce finer steel than Svedira steel.
However, this doesn't imply a great versatile knowledge of metallurgy. For other metals have always been seen as inferior. They never saw the use of aluminum as anything other than interesting plates for nobility, gold is pretty but lack strength, tungsten and chromium are not even common knowledge.

The primary source of food is from the Gosser-goat, a mountain goat indigenous to the mountains of Svedira and is fat from eating the roots of the Toppler herb. The herb growing along all sorts of slopes but is tricky to farm since it require a moss covered stone base. A staple in Svedira cooking is Toppler root with Gosser meat.
The Gosser-goat is also the source of wool that the vast majority of clothes in Svedira is made. Thick sturdy cloth which many people find itchy. But it's warm and strong.

Other common things are copper, lead, basalt, stone, uranium and marble.

People & Culture:

The people of Svedira are hardy, tall, somewhat stout and has a marvelous balance. Natural climbers all, those who weren't good has been waned off through natural selection.
Svedirans also have a great sense of national pride, seeing their history of being oppressed minority. They took the mountain for themselves and NO ONE will take it from them.
Otherwise the Svedirans are kind and helpful folks, always ready to give a hand to a neighbour or a stranger.

Cultural oddities

If you are offered goat milk in a wooden bowl, it means you have been accepted as a member of the family. It is seen as a big deal in Svedira.

Teens often climb to a ledge near the village in the night and drink and shout over the glaciers. The drunk quires of bassy shouting is seen as providing good luck in the future and to be invited along is a sign of friendship.

Tossing rocks down the mountain is seen as causing bad luck.

Loudly counting 1, 2, 3, 4 doing a thing and finishing off with a 5 is common practice. No one knows the origin.
An example is jumping a gap. 1,2,3,4 HUPP! 5!!! With 5 after landing.

Looking an outsider in the eyes and rubbing oneself with wool cloth is seen as an insult, implying the outsider is weaker than Svedira folk.

Population:

Roughly 8 million people.

Demographics:

WIP minority from other country here. Large majority of population.

Government:

Absolute monarchy.

Ruler:

cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/568557…
King Vasil Svediri, lord of Logusû, king of the highest land, ruler of Pross.
"The good king of the mountain."

The king of Svedira is a rather young king at 24, taking over from his father King Frerik Svediri II who died of pneumonia at the ripe age of 64, may he advice us all in Zevo.
Vasil has ruled since he was 14 but only recently at age 18 really got to the part of ruling, since up to that point he was still very much still in royal training to become king.
Learning the arts of science, economy, diplomacy but also painting, poetry and longsword fencing. (Where he got his scar on his lip.)

His strength was never in the physical department, unlike the Svediran kings of old who were broad shouldered giants of men, he is far more slender in appearance.
This doesn't mean that he is small by international standards at 1'82cm in length.

During his rule king Vasil has encountered problems in how to rule Svedira. Unlike his father, who was a warmonger and the reason Svedira is so ludicrously militarized in its current state.
Vasil is trying to go the fine line of catering to the will of his people, while aiming for lasting peace for his kin.
Which is difficult with the resentment and at times even still raging hatred for the empire of Vercingetorix and other neighbouring lands.
King Vasil is however still hard at work and his biggest project so far is finally done, the first international Svediran rail-line, which goes to the corax dominion.
This is the first of his many steps in his plan to create lasting peace with his surrounding countries.

The primary obstacle for the good king is ironically enough his own populace, who are often nationalistic and proud to worrying lengths. Always ready to fight the enemies of Svedira and often with a faultless loyalty to the king.
So Vasil must be careful with his choices and decisions or risk alienating his subjects.

Royal family

King Vasil also has two sisters.

Karina Svediri.
A long haired beauty with a stern face. She is 26 and advices the king on political matters. Her intellect is large and the king much values the input of his sister in matters of the state.
She owns the foundry which produces most of the blimps of Svedira, giving her great influence in the air traffic of Svedira.

Veroniq Svediri.
Dark blonde unlike her siblings, she is 20 years old and was the reason their mother died because of complications at birth.
This has affected the young lady and while no one else blames her, she secretly blame herself.

She is very artistic and keep her guilt at bay with fine art. She advises the king on matters of culture and art and is semi in charge of the royal art museum in Logusû.

Volksgeist:

The national identity of Svedira is their strong sense of freedom and a feeling of belonging in the mountain. To be Svediran is an honor and a duty, that duty is to Svedira which means its king.

It is also a very martial society, everyone, including the women, are trained to fight with some sort of hand to hand weapon since the middle ages, in modern times this now incorporated firearms and every family is by law required to have a firearm per family and one weapon per member of the house of fifteen years or older.
Chivalry is a common notion and it is particularly common in Logusû, where knights are commonplace even in the modern age.

Honor is however not that important to Svedirans, or at least not in the common sense. To break the law is ugly and frowned upon in society and the rules of war are held onto with great respect and seriousness.
The only exception to this is towards Vercingetorix Where it is not uncommon to toss out the civil laws of war and go to borderline war crimes because of the deep rooted resentment and hatred for their ancient foe.

Factories have not really taken off either so a large portion of the production is made by artisans. Making the supplying of the military costly but the quality of the equipment is outstanding since the craftsmen take their job at the utmost of serious.

Religion:

The people of Svedira has roughly the same religion it had when it was Nehrvak, an ancestor based religion called nothing at all.
By others it's referred to as ancestor worship or paganism or heathendom.

The core belief is that if you remember your ancestors, they never truly die, and when one dies one goes to a realm known as Zevo.
Zevo is different for everyone, one can temporarily visit in life during intense meditation or spiritual enlightenment (hallucination) and it always takes a place of serenity for the worshipper.
If visiting Zevo, one can ask for guidance and if the ancestors want to, they answer.

When one dies one is in a limbo, in Zaak.
But as people remember them, and particularly after a remembrance ritual one enters Zevo to live with the ancestors.
Zevo isn't a paradise where one lives forever, but more like where ones soul exist and it can reform to answer questions.

To end up in Zidenûs is to be forgotten, people speak not of this fate.
But those who have done heinous acts that makes someone deserve to be forgotten end up there. It is never defined but it's a horrible place.
Only the worst are wished to end up there.

To end up in Zaak is not as bad. While Zevo is tranquil and Zidenûs is anguish. Zaak is nothing.
Some people even prefer to be forgotten, but it is seen as a choice of ones peers if one deserves to be remembered or not.
To feel one wants to end up in Zaak and tell this to others is often met with comfort and support. It's a melancholy state similar to depression if not actually depression.

A common saying is "Remember the fallen." Since they are heroes to Svedira and because of this people doesn't fear death as much as in other nations.
Sure they fear it, but it's a more tranquil response than most other faiths.

History:

What is now a simple province in the east of the empire of Vercingetorix, the former kingdom of Nerhvak resides forgotten and without history.
In the middle ages, during the years the empire expanded the most the Kingdom of Nehrvak was targeted for occupation, but what was supposed to be a peaceful occupation took a poor turn when incompetence, fear and misunderstanding combined which resulted in one of the most famous genocides in history, 'the great march'.

The empire of Vercingetorix pushed hard diplomatically for annexation of Nehrvak, the king gave in and as imperial soldiers patrolled the streets, he took his own life with a dagger .
This unknowingly sent a message to the populace, there can be no life under the empire and as such a monstrous proportion (in modern times counted to be roughly 98%) of the population decided to leave Nehrvak.

The occupation was led by general Polter whom was ill equipped and had poor instructions apart from "Seize Nehrvak and its people for the empire, peacefully." But when the population simply stood up and left he was completely surprised and had little idea of a good solution.
He decided that the order was "Peacefully, if possible!" And began to force the refugees to stay.
Widespread fear of the empire and less than optimal conditions led to violence, often imperial troops shot in the air just to be cut down from behind by frantic farmers.
Having taken firearms, the situation escalated.
Where some parts of the refugee horde had formed into a makeshift militia others simply ran for their lives.
No side was completely free of blame in the great march but what is known is the escalation.

The Nehrvak refugees kept on their march, and reached the mountains of Svedira.
The Svedira mountains used to be far to uninhabitable for most settlers. And had it not been for outside influences the refugees of Nehrvak would certainly never have settled there.

Thousands upon thousands lost their lives during the great march. Which led to the mountains of Svedira. Now having nowhere to flee but up the mountains they took the latter choice, the climb claimed hundreds of lives, the weather thousands more since winter was in full swing.
But in the end the refugees found the large valley of Pross.
Here they began to make their new life. The army of Polter not having the resources nor will to follow them into the mountains there and then sat up a siege to later sent to drag them out by force.
By then the refugees had begun to fortify the mountains, landslides planned and precision strikes from flanks and above often killing many many more than they lost.

Now it was settled, the mountains of Svedira had been their salvation, so now they would be the people of Svedira.
For years the army of Polter assailed them, but as time passed the empire got news of the situation.
The entire operation had gone nothing like they planned and they realized they'd made an enemy where they planned to get a new province.
General Polter was degraded and court marshalled, the army was sent to other duties.

The 20 year old siege had ended and now the people of Svedira were fully settled in the mountains.
The old hatred settled as well and instead resentment set in. But set on showing themselves as the better people they began to build the Capitol of Logusû, it would be the crown jewel of the mountains of Svedira, a gemstone upon the tallest top.
In reality it's not on the highest mountain, but it's still a marvelous place which is breathtaking to all who see it.

At the advent of steam, the empire came back, but this time with another strategy. For now coal was needed, and a lot of it. Coal which was abundant in Svedira and everyone wanted it.
The empire sought to open trade with Svedira, other nations vied for the mineral rich mountains but couldn't get a hold on them. For decades the wars, skirmishes and sabotage was claiming lives on both sides. The conflict making the Svedirans more and more martial in nature.
Preferring heavy armour and close quarter fighting, they often triggered a landslide followed by charging in and massacring the survivors.
In latter years with the advent of firearms the heavy guns of Svedira are feared by their enemies.

Only in the very latest years have Svedira had peace, a troubled cease-fire with a great attempt at trade.
Svedira has constructed a single train line with a single armoured train. It is always manned with a thousand elite soldiers and it goes to the corax dominion largely funded by corax. It's goal is to sell coal in exchange for goods that cannot easily be obtained in the mountains.
It is a shaky cease fire, very expensive for Svedira and barely worth it. But they are determined to prove they are the better people and to make it work. For if they can have peace would that not be best?

Armed Forces:

The Svediran military is a massive part of their budget, almost 10% of it goes to fortifications alone. What this does however is put loads of workers in jobs, which in turn feeds families and the economy.
'The steel of Svedira is worn' is a common saying and it shows, the sturdy folk of the mountains wear an exorbitant amount of armour compared to other militaries soldiers and the tradition forged from constant infantry tactics have set the land into a technological mess.

Large parts of the society is still in the middle ages in a way, military vehicles are barely used and those that are are solely steam tech. The modern invention of diesel tech is solely used on the armour of the infantry and the lone oil pump and refinery in Pross is guarded by a comparably ridiculous force for such a facility. But considering it's important for the working of the Svedira combat suits it's no wonder it is so meticulously guarded.

There are three major wings of the military.
The ranger corps, the infantry and the royal guard.
All of them supplied with gas masks as standard.

The ranger corps

Estimated 50'000 soldiers.
The most active of the forces in Svedira, they are tasked with border security. Seeing how the vast majority of the borders of Svedira is mountainous the regular combat suits of the infantry is not practically plausible.
Instead they wear a 'Light armour' as the Svedirans refer to it. Compared to the armour of other nations however it's a hulking mass of steel capable of stopping pistol bullets and some light calibre or powder rifles.
Armed with a break action rifle, built to mimic the muskets of old. They are accurate rifles firing non-enriched uranium bullets. Which are dense, heavy and poisonous and with a copper casing and steel tip that has marvelous armour piercing qualities.
The 'light' armour is at times bought by militia as part of the armed family law.

The infatry corps

Estimated 100'000 soldiers.
The heavy lifters, heavy hitters and primary force of Svedira. The infantry wear what is known as 'medium armour' which is a fully functional battlesuit for the common soldiers.
In their constant search for heavier armour for their infantry, Svedira has come to the point as to where they give their infantry these, the 'Mountainside warsuit', an exoskeleton providing support and strength for the heavy metal plates and their heavy weapons, the light portable cannon.
The cannon is a 40mm bolt action cannon that can fire uranium penetrators similar to the rangers, explosive, gas and incendiary rounds. However the gas and incendiary rounds are prone to misfire so are not used frequently nor en masse.
The warsuits are clunky and often hot and sluggish, but while their movements might not be gracious, they can take a beating. Regular pistols do no harm against them and it takes a heavy rifle to have any chance of a certified penetration, and even then the shot will have lost a lot of its force.

Special troops. Trench-sweepers.

These soldiers are uncommon and wear the 'Fortress warsuit', the heaviest suit available to Svedira together with a cyclic 12mm machine gun which fires similar uranium penetrators as the ranger corps in rapid succession.
One or two of these soldiers are covered so they can get into the trench of the enemy and from there just wade through it and spew death in front of them. In their left arm they often carry a warsuit sized warpick, to pry open doors, armour plates and lightly armoured vehicles.
Some trench-sweepers carry a flamethrower instead of the chaingun. Another variation is the 18,5mm chain-shotgun loaded with uranium pellets and producing a rapid firing shotgun which devastates unarmoured foes.

The royal guard.

Estimated 10'000 elite soldiers.
To be a royal guard is to be the finest of the Svediran military, chosen solely on merit and after that further trained, these soldiers are the elite and it shows.
Unwilling to don such cumbersome armour as the warsuits, they wear a superior version of the 'light armour', capable of standing up to small rifles with some dependency.
Their primary defence however is their skill and their speed. Capable of running as fast as an unarmoured man in his armour, these soldiers
have few equals.
They are the best suited to fighting in either long range or intense close quarters. They carry blades as a sign of office but make no mistake, they are equally highly trained and lethal with the sword as a rifle.
The rifles and pistols are the same type as the ranger corps utilize but of obvious better quality. The swords are of magnificent quality tempered steel and thus cannot pierce armour that well. But against infantry that seldom matters in this age.

A final truth about the royal guard is that few know how utterly devout they are to the king.
Not even the king knows, but he knows of a few events in the past.
For several times in history, the royal guard has gone against the orders of the military to 'better serve and protect the king', something which can be a potential problem within the kingdoms armed forces.
In history generals have been ignored and even literally pushed out of the way for a royal guard.

Fun facts

Svediran engineers was the proud inventors of the escalator.

|People of Interest:|

None yet.

|Starting Tech:|

Hurr durr, lvl 5 infantry :P

The Fumes of War

I suppose you can pop in on the discord and get a feel for the game. We have a lot of finished lore and the map isn't up to date here.

The Fumes of War

Southwest Sentra, area of Planegrund. 3 days ago.
touropia.com/gfx/d/small-towns-in-swi…

Walking through the village of his birth and upbringing flodded him with emotions, how he used to play ball with his friends, how said ball rolled down the slope and jumped over that fence and they had to climb for an hour to get it back, how he felt when he enlisted in the army, graduated school and how the sun always warmed his face in the summers.
Now he was carrying a simple pack, filled with towels and bottles and heading outside town.

He reached the old arch marking the edge of town and stood for a while waiting. They had planned on meeting here midday and it sure was midday now, but he could see no sign of the others.
Without warning a wool blanket was tossed over him followed by a roar of laughter and four guys slapping the blanket as ferociosly as they could.
-"Danie boy! Little army man can't even see us coming, no wonder you aren't a ranger!" Danie recognized the voice of Jacky, one of his childhood friends and whom always teased him and the others for all sorts of things.
-"Who'd want to be a ranger anyway, i'm proud infantry!" Danie retorted while getting the blanket off, knowing full well Jacky always bragged of his father who was a retired ranger. Jacky took his revenge with giving Danie's nose a slap with the finger.
-"Let's go slowpoke, last one there carries Jonn back!" Jacky blurted out while setting off.
-"Hey, you know i'm always last!" Jonn was a bit fat and the tone of his voice was an obvious fake hurt.

They climbed the mountain, as they had done many times before. There was a path hewn from the stone in the middle ages and they had helped put up new rope lines when they were kids on one of the sections.
After some time they left the trodden path and went along the cliff side. It was a winding break in the rock and there was a precarious drop below the half metre ledge they were trodding along, often going sideways with their backs to the wall.
-"One, two, three... FOUR HUPP!!!..." On four Danie jumped the gap leading to the small plateu on the side of the mountain. He finished with.
-"... five."
They were setting up their stuff, some blankets and a pillow and sat down and looked over the amazing view.
Far down in the valley one could see the little stream, all around the majestic broad mountains could be seen and to the northeast one could see parts of Logusû, mainly the royal palace in its splendour.
In the distance the sun was setting and this spot was among the best to see it. The clouds were coloured in oranges, pink and purple. In truth the display was beautiful.
The clinks of bottles broke the silence and Jacky was handing out beers and the signature plops of the corks being undone filled the scene followed by Jacky giving a great exhale and looking at his bottle and saying.
-"This is some nice stuff, you can afford this Danie boy?" The doubt colouring his words.
-"I got an advanced paycheck, to help me prepare for the service, so i have plenty to spare. I'm a fortress-suit operator after all, among the best paid in the military."Danie plopped open his beer, gave a small cheer and took a mouthful letting the taste fill his mouth, the others were gawking at him.
-"Fortress-duty? No way! The only ones with more pay are the royal guards! No wonder you got the best stuff." The others were jealous but honestly happy for their friend, not that they would admit that. Danie just shook his head and looked at his bottle.
Steelbrew, made locally and flavored with Toppler-herb flowers, to say it's the fine stuff is like saying an iron pot is the fine stuff since it isn't clay, or no pot at all. But they had been poor farmer boys all of them their whole lives, Steelbrew was just one of those things that weren't viable for them most of the time.
Danie looked at the others, smiled and just let out a bawling groan that was Svediran throat singing, popular with young boys like himself.
Jacky took a gulp, helped Jonn up and they simultaneously started a real bassy low tone, followed with Bill taking a high note, which Danie followed with the lyrics.

They sang and laughed and drank for hours, truly enjoying themselves and made so much noise they woke up some of the neighbours, but they didn't care.
It was tradition to send their friend off with a party like this, it had been in Svedira for generations. Soon Danie would do his service in the military, a great honor but tough work.
Tough work indeed.

The first Svediran international railway. Present day.
It was the grand opening of the first international railway of Svedira, it went southeast into the lowlands of the Corax Dominion, an old enemy of Svedira who in latter years have pushed hard for a railway connection.
Through hard toils, hundreds of political meetings and rallies and speeches, the railway was finally built, partially funded by Corax but to their great miscontent not the same width as their railways.
The Svediran logic was that should this experiment be fruitfull, the rail will be widened to allow for Corax locomotion, but for now it will be like this.
In truth it was a pathetic railway, it went for eight kilometers into Corax and stopped at a trainstation there. On the opposite side of the yard compared to the Coraxian line. From where cargo would be unloaded and then the train would reverse back to Svedira.
For this reason, the train had two locomotives, both armoured behemoths of steel. Sure they were nothing like the castle trains of Corax, but compared to other nations they were machines of war.
Spewing black coal smoke and slow, but such were the trains of Svedira.

Hundreds had gathered for the great inauguration and even the royal family was there.
Banners fluttering in the wind, flowers made into all manners of decorations and the sun was high. The cheers of the people almost drowning out the orchestra playing marching songs.
With a fanfare, the royal soldiers of the Svediran army came marching in practiced line and file, putting up a show by raising their knees high with each step, at least those in light armour.
Danie Hopps was second to the left on the first row of five Fortress Warsuit troopers of three, behind a whole lot of rangers and a whole lot more Mountainside infantry behind him.
He risked looking on the gathered populace and they were cheering louder as his squad came into view. Fortress warsuits were a pride of the nation and being part of its corps was seen as a great honor and they were showing it.
He thought he glanced his mum in the crowd, he wanted to wave but resisted the urge to do so, especially as his eyes wandered to a stand, where he could see the stoic forms of the royal guards, guarding the king himself.
Wearing a beautiful black jacket with gold buttons and red lining, he wore his steel crown and had a positively regal attitude and stance.
Danie immediately straightened his walk a bit more and concentrated hard on showing his absolute best side.
The king himself was here, the good king of the mountain.

King Vasil Svediri I looked upon one thousand of his loyal troops, looking impressive and competent as always. He tried his best to look regal and in charge while in truth all he wanted to do was to get to some shade because of the warmth.
Used to the cold windy mountaintops of Logusû the lowlands was hotter than he remembered, or perhaps today was just awfully good weather.
He cursed his choice of attire, dreaming of another jacket, white with imported pearls.
Without looking at him, he ordered one of his servants to fetch water and give it to him on signal, the sharply dressed servant made a hasty bow and scampered off at speed.

Soon the procession of troops stopped, near a tarp covered thing on the rail which was obviously a train but the inauguration planners at least tried to keep it as much of a surprise as possible.
Stepping up to a stone pew, the king adjusted his sleeve and checked the microphone.
-"Dear populace of Svedira and all others gathered here today, today we witness a great moment in our history. The inauguration of the first international railway of Svedira!" He put on a smile for the cheering populace, the mood was at the top and many, including the king felt a great sense of pride.
-"Through the hard work of our miners, mill workers, soldiers and many others we've finally gotten to this moment, the moment where we officially connect to another country for the first time. Let this be a pillar, symbolising our prophesised future, a future of peace, joy and abundance."
The people were now listening with great interest, silent nods and joyful smiles.
-"So gaze now upon this pillar of our future!" Raising his arm palm up towards the train, the people all turned to see the tarp being removed, massive cheers erupted as the machine beneath was revealed.
With a hidden gesture the king motioned for his water and drank, upholding his image as the stoic man people thought he was.
The train was a massive steel armoured steam train with a stocky look, a rounded top and front with a massive grilled prow several meters tall and wide.
The entire train was massive, compared to the castle trains of Corax it wasn't that much to be sure, but this train was still a hulking behemoth unlike most others. Clearly inspired by the trains of their southern neighbours but with a distinct Svediran look to it.
The king now strode towards the train, with his entourage of royal guards forming a perimeter around the king, whom some even threw flowers towards.
The railway chief gave a deep bow and presented a wooden bowl to the king, filled with gosser goat milk.
He now held the bowl up high, a man struggled to get the microphone cable to the king so he could speak into it.
-"I will now welcome this beast into the family that is Svedira. We will take care of it as it will provide for us. I name thee..... 'Behemoth's stride. Pillar of the future'." With a massive cheer the populace threw hundreds of flowers into the air as the king tossed the goat milk all over the grilled prow of the train.
With that the king waved and took his leave, he was boiling alive and wanted to get to shade as quickly as possible. He had planned to go to a nice balkony on a nearby house, to enjoy some shade and to see the train take its virgin voyage from a vantage point.

A brass horn signal followed and the soldiers began to march as the music began anew. They began to board the train and take their positions.
From his vantage point the king could see how massive the train was. Armour plated carriages, a train locomotive on each end of the train, both equally massive. Behind the coal wagons a turreted citadel with anti-mech cannons to fend off any threats.
A thousand troops to protect the Svediran interests, it was a sign of power, and a sign of paranoia to the citizens of Corax who were present on this side of the border to hear the kings speech.

Within twenty minutes, the train was up to heat and gave off a massive signal from its twin steam whistles, who gave off an unexpectedly growling whistle before the train began to chug and move.
Massive cheers and the band playing the Svediran anthem, which people soon joined in and sang to their hearts content.
A song singing of pride, the vileness of Svediras foes and protecting your homes. Forming battallions and defending what was rightfully Svediran.
A song that often made others sceptical, especially the part with letting the mountains drizzle with the blood of their foes to make the Toppler herbs grow vibrant and strong.

The Behemoth's stride soon left the station, to go to the border and into the Corax dominion to one of their border stations to sell its coal.
Danie felt paranoid, he was sitting in one of the troop wagons on standby, going into the corax dominion, who were formed of several old enemies of Svedira. But in truth it wasn't the Corax that made him feel paranoid, it was the fact that ten Svediran royal guards were on the train.
Sleek bright steel armour, imposing longswords and beautiful rifles and pistols, standing with a royal grace and deadly presence even he, wearing a fortress warsuit, the heaviest armour in the known world felt like he wouldn't be able to take one of them on should they feel the need to.

He wasn't actually afraid they would do anything like that, but their deadly presence still sent chills down his spine, and also the fact his nation felt the need to put royal guards on the train meant that this was a very serious operation.
He hoped nothing would go wrong. That the corax would not try anything funny.

Hours later, the area of Planegrund, finest hotel in the area.
The king never like going with zeppelin, they moved to much in the wind, he preferred cable cars or lifts. Sturdy reliable and grounded transports.
King Vasil and his sister, Karina were sitting on another balcony and looking over the beautiful village of Planegrund.
They had sat there for a while, exchanging a courtly hug befit of siblings and enjoyed some small talk over tea.
-"It is always a pleasure talking with you Karina, but sadly i'm not meeting you simply for pleasure. How goes the mooring post project?" King Vasil kept stirring his tea, but his tone was in aserious business tone.
-"How i missed simply talking to you brother." She slightly shook her head before answering.
-"The mooring post is coming along somewhat well, we've had some issues with wind and a delay of a section of the mast. Apparently the transport tram fell over and the whole thing got stuck in a tunnel. Luckily no wounded." The king nodded his response.
-"So Vasil, how goes the diplomacy side of things? I know you've had issues with setting up meetings with Vercingetorix." Karina's voice was optimistic and regal, but one could notice a hint of tiredness in it and her eyes.
-"Well unlike in the past it's not on the side of the empire the problems lie, sometimes i curse fathers propaganda and the loyalty of the populace. I'd love to go to the empire for a political visit, but my 'dear' loyal troops wouldn't let me leave with less than a battallion of bodyguards and probably half the army...." He was overreacting and venting his frustrations, but he was correct.
-"I know of their love for you, i know how frustrating it can be." She smiled a broad smile, Vasil met her eyes with his and sighed.
-"Do you now? Regardless of that i've sent a political envoy with a small group of ten bodyguards in my stead, they will speak to the envoy of the empire and go over the details of the air traffic agreement, hopefully we can continue our good progress from the last meeting." Vasil's answer was filled with apathy.
-"Yes. I read the reports and i agree it is coming along nicely. I will work on my final proposition to the empire and send it to you for evaluation." She finished off with a sip of tea, her voice filled with little emotion since both of them knew it was basically her dealing with the empire and Vasil just nodding and sending it along.
-"Perhaps something else will cheer you up. How goes that aid package you planned?" Karina asked with a clear curiosity to her, the king lost some of his apathy and responded.
-"Ah yes, the Gaellician aid package. I've worked on how to best route the transport and speaking with the governments involved." Vasil sipped his tea before he continued.
-"The transport vehicle itself is also soon finished, it should be able to bring along all the things it will need."
-"What was your response to your advisors idea of sending them military supplies as well?" Karina asked.
-"I told him that was not my intention. This package is for the populace, not for the war. Despite i don't want to anger the Volsinii." The kings answer had little emotion, Karina simply made a small shrug and agreed.
-"Oh did you hear of dear sisters new painting, she'll be showcasing it in the capitol tomorrow? Should we go?" Karina was now changing the subject completely, trying her best to be cheery.
-"I don't know, there is a lot of planning and...." Vasil began with trying to excuse himself but changed his mind.
-"No, i will... NO, we will go, all three of us will go and watch the unveiling of dear Veroniq's art exhibition. I've worked far too much lately and she deserves the attention." Vasil put down his cup with a clatter, emoting his feelings, he really felt like doing this, mostly for Veroniq's sake but also since he felt the three of them spent far to little time together.
Karina smiled and the two of them started planning the day and phoned Veroniq.

Formaroth Part 2: Throne of Lies

A magical meeting

A magical meeting.
It was raining a bit in the slums of Nyhem, Balthar Uneiuss Imazz, Orvel Forrin and twentythree other mages were making their way through the wet streets now reeking of soil and filth.
Following them was a ox-drawn covered wagon.
Uneiuss who was leading the rag tag group of mages wondered if they had indeed gotten the correct address as they looked into the slums, very few apart from themselves were out and their dark woolen cloaks were heavy and moist from the rain.

He once more wondered why he was leading the group, he knew at least two of the others were vastly superior destruction mages, and several more had served in militaries before. But the others were adamant that he should lead them. He himself felt like a silly buffoon faking his position when he lead them along the streets following the little brat he'd paid to show them the way.
He had demanded the exorbitant price of a silver coin, but Uneiuss didn't feel like bartering. If it was one thing this new job had promised was good pay and his family was also of some renown and wealth.

As they turned a corner they saw a newly built stone wall with a metal fence on top, the speartips looking menacing in the grey lighting and in their wet state.
There was two steel fist corpsmen guarding the fence gate, they looked relatably miserable in the rain and Uneiuss walked up to them in the most imposing way he could muster.
-"Is the the barracks of the Steel Fist?" He even straightened his posture, the response of the corpsman was completely dull and sort of unexpected.
-"Yup, you the new mage fellas?" Uneiuss had expected more spite or fear, perhaps they were trying to keep up appearances. He spoke again.
-"Yes, we've been assigned to show up here." Uneiuss felt he had put in a perfectly imposing answer. The corpsman nodded, sniveled and opened the gate for them.
-"Take the cart to the right, steelhead will meet you inside, the kids will show you where." After hearing the corpsmans answer he made a sharp nod and went inside, leaving the cart on the right which was soon taken inside a stables away from the rain by some corpsmen.

When the group entered the main building through the thick oaken door they were met with a rustic practical interior, thick boards covered the walls and upon closer inspection weren't even all of the same type of wood. Corpsmen were seen carrying things, moving or just sitting in different places of the large building.
As they saw a bunch of men roasting a small pig on a spit in the fireplace a young child boy came up to them.
He was wearing a dark blue tunic, with a piece of canvas sewn on to resemble a clenched fist. It was however obvious the child himself had done the sewing.
-"Ar' you da mages?" The child spoke a bit nervously to Uneiuss and Orvel who was leading their group.
-"Yes, we're here to receive our orders." Uneiuss answered with his best leader voice. The kid just made a sort of bow and told them to follow him gesturing with his hands.

As they made their way through the building Uneiuss whispered to Orvel.
-"So what do you think?"
-"Suitably rough and ugly, fits them well, much less piss, shit and barfstains than i expected." Orvel didn't bother with whispering which caught Uneiuss off guard and tried to hush him to no avail.
They reached a large double door and entered, finding themselves in the dining hall. A room repurposed from a ball room into a room with as many tables and seats that could comfortably fit, while it was more on the filled with furniture side, it wasn't cramped.
A few corpsmen were sitting in a corner and eating a meal while discussing cheese, they barely even took note of the battlemages as they entered.
The child bid them to sit and hang their cloaks by the door. Which they did and they were told steelhead would arrive soon.

They sat and waited a while and a corpsman came out from a side door wearing and apron carried out a large pot steaming with some sort of food, shortly after Claus Rotstein entered through the main doors.
-"Ah finally! The mages, i've been waiting for you. I got you some grub, do take some" Claus was gesturing to the food with a broad smile on his face, his audience however were not overly impressed and just sat in place.
-"Suit yourselves." Claus added with a shrug.

Seeing the man who was supposed to be the imperial advisor of war gave Uneiuss mixed feelings, mostly feelings of 'who is this dork' and 'how did this man end up on the imperial council' but some other feelings as well.
After studying his brethren he realized they were eyeing not only Claus but also him to do something, so he spoke up.
-"Perhaps later, what can we except to do within the imperial guard?" He was serious and made a striking pose where he adjusted his glasses to sit closer to his face. Claus just looked at him and responded with.
-"Bleh, don't call us the imperial guard in our house, call it the fist. As for what you will do is a heck of a lot of marching, drills and training. We work hard and play hard, off duty most things go, but on duty i expect the very best of everyone."
-"So you expect us to be simple soldiers?" Uneiuss counter was sharp as a stiletto.
Claus dropped his humour.
-"I expect you to be battlemages, skilled specialists with unique applications. If there's a field battle, which i have reasonable reason to believe we will be in soon, i expect you to protect the fist and fling some nasty stuff the way of the enemy. In peacetime i expect you to advise me on how a mage would make my work as chief of the imperial guard hard, so i'll ask you how you would assassinate the emperor or just about anyone in the castle.
I also expect you to help out with logistics, carry stuff, advise me and my officers.
I expect you to be the best you can be, just like i expect every single man and woman in the fist to be. And if you aren't the best you can be, i'll make you the best you can be or i'll kick you out."
Finishing his last sentence, Claus gestured towards the door behind him with his thumb.
There was a pause, people looked to Uneiuss who expected something different, Claus changed his posture and spoke in a calmer way.
-"But let's focus on more fun things, like your new stuff!" He snapped his fingers and the little boy from before dragged off a sheet of cloth from a pile of equipment.
Claus took one of the packs and put it on a table with a loud thud. It looked like a cuirass with a morion helmet on top with soft things stuffed inside.
-"This is a standard issue pack of gear within the Steel Fist, modified to suit your needs as best i understand it after serving with battlemages in the past." He loosened a strap and began to show the contents.
-"A cuirass, a helmet, goat skin gloves for extra dexterity, make sure to keep these in sight since these cost a fortune compared to the normal gloves in the fist, so some of the new guys might get jealous. Bag of stuff like a wool blanket, razor, soap, rags, bowl and some sturdy boots. Linen hoses and a gambeson in black. There's some other stuff as well. If the clothes don't fit seek out Katrina or any of her aides, she's the quartermaster in the fist and she'll sort you right out." As he described each item he messily tossed it on the table so those present could see.
Uneiuss was surprised. While nothing fancy, the items seemed to be of excellent quality, even the armour which was munitions plate looked nice and sturdy.
-"Grab a pack each, there should be enough. Kiddo will show you your new quarters. And for Timtos sake do grab a meal! Tomorrow we'll go to an old tower down south and do excercises and we've only been waiting for you, so eat up and don't worry, i'll start easy with ya. But don't tell the boys i said that." Claus gave a deep grinning smirk at thr end, as he was fully aware of at least four corpsmen who were in the room with them.
He stopped and went and got a large shield.
-"Also you will be carrying these." He slammed the pavise unto the table making it rattle below it. Upon the surface a variation of the iconography of the Steel Fist was prominently visible, a clenched white fist holding fire on the classic black background.
-"Bert came up with the design, honestly he should be a herald but that's none of my business. You will be painting these on your shields since the weather got crap and we haven't had time to do it. You'll also get some maces." By which he took a mace and held it upside down resting on the table.

The room was mostly silent, the mages were used to getting some things for protection. But not plate cuirasses with lamed tassets and pavises, that one was completely new to them.
Uneiuss saw the obvious catch and asked.
-"So we're expected to buy these expensive things just to have the 'privilege' of being in the Steel Fist?" He almost added 'disgusting' to the end but refrained because of his politeness.
-"What? Heck no, most guys can't afford these things. They are provided by the Steel Fist and returned at the end of service. But a few guys take the helmet with them or the mace as a memento." A slight hint of bemused annoyance at the final part, Claus surprised Uneiuss and his kin again.
-"I see... it seems i was mistaken." Uneiuss was just overwhelmed, he was expecting something completely different, especially after he heard of the second battle of Telmarion.
A battle which Claus apparently had been a general in, or so he had read, which reminded him of a question he wanted to ask his new employer.
Partly to get a grip on his character and partly to get his opinion on mages.
-"So i heard you were a general during the second battle of Telmarion. How do you feel the battlemages were utilized during that battle?" He eyed Claus closely.
-"Poorly. Yeah sure it was effctive but such a waste of specialists. I'd have just used stakes or a bunch of pikemen. But then again most troops are scaredy cats so they would probably just have run their lot..." Claus answer was again unexpected but a welcome one, he seemed to be lost in thought gently rubbing his chin before he realized he was in front of a crowd.
-"Ah, doesn't matter, i didn't choose that deployment and only got there in the end. Not like i could have done anything different about it." He shrugged and plopped down the mace and went with a bowl to the still steaming food.
-"Do grab some, it's catfish stew. Heard it tastes like meat." He grabbed a large portion and sat down in front of Uneiuss and tasted the stew.
He looked Uneiuss right in the eyes and spoke directly to him.
-"It doesn't really taste like meat, but close enough. Send your guys off for food so we can talk?" His serious tone was suggesting an order, Uneiuss got the hint and told his men to grab some of the food.
Only Orvel stayed with Uneiuss.
-"So, you are trying to spoil us? Is that what this is?" Uneiuss was apprehensive still and it was obvious that Orvel shared his sentiments.
-"If i am is it working? More seriously though i'm not really trying to spoil ya. Entire Fist is getting that stew today and you are getting similar stuff as all the others. Minus a main weapon since your main weapon is in here." Claus tapped his head with his index finger.
-"You're mr Forrin? If you are i'm happy to see ya, always wanted a healer mage for the fist but as a mercenary group i could basically forget that. Not i don't have to rely on my barber surgeons to save the wounded." Claus was munching on his stew while talking, but he sounded genuinely relieved.
-"I am mr Forrin. I'll try to patch up some of your men." He sounded terribly bitter, so much that Uneiuss almost corrected him.
Claus stopped munching as he looked Orvel straight in the eyes.
-"And none of 'that' attitude please. This is the Steel Fist, here we are all family and help each other like it. I know you are new and we've never had a mage detachment before, but please try to fit in." He wasn't angry but annoyed, he knew fully well of the hatred and mistrust towards mages.
-"I promise to give anyone who bothers you about being what you are a good slap if you do." Where Claus added a smirk and returned to munching his food.

By now a few of the battlemages sat down and could listen in on their conversation, so Claus quickly emptied his bowl, literally pouring it into his mouth and putting down the bowl before speaking.
-"I'll leave you to it, tomorrow we march. I'm gonna try out my new potential with you. Be sure to rest well. I have things to plan now." After which he simply left leaving Uneiuss and Orvel with the others.
What would this bring them they wondered.

Next morning

Next morning.
The Steel Fist was up early, waking several citizens whom were used to waking others like bakers, grocers and fishermen.
With perfect footfalls and pristine formations they marched through the streets of Nyhem heading for the gates.
They needed to get up early since the Steel Fist was soon to depart to the north to Uzgob and needed to get this training in before so the battlemages could be properly integrated into the fighting structure of the Fist. Claus had in the past been in command over varying numbers of battlemages with some success, especially in the first battle of Telmarion where he used them to great effect. But now they were an integral part of the corp itself and he needed every ounce of potential he could squeeze from them.

Uneiuss was not in the slightest used to the heavy armour, the massive pavise or even the weight of a mace at his side. Luckily for him he was gonna opt for his privilege as company lieutenant to bear the arms they chose themselves. He had been trained in his family to wield a blade to a decent degree and he much prefered the balanced weight of a sword to the lug of steel the Steel Fist maces were. Sure the handle was hollow but they were all steel.
In truth he was suffering, but he did his best to keep up appearances. Most of the other battlemages were used to marching and keeping formations but even they were not used to the pavises that hung on their backs.
He wanted to think ill of the corpsmen in front and back of him, but in truth he was impressed with their drill, fitness and determination. With all the rumours about the Steel Fist, he was not seeing the rag tag mercenary group who slept drunk on the streets, this was a formidable fighting force.

They marched for an hour, stopping once for a break to drink water and rest.
But eventually they saw the ruined outline of the old watchtower. Looming over the treeline.
A two-score horncall from Claus stopped the entire force, the close to simultaneus stop footfall of the entire company was almost eerie to Uneiuss.
-"Break march!" Claus voice boomed to make his order even more clear, he followed up with.
-"Meeting in a single stretch, i'll be on the main wagon. Lieutenants in front."
The corpsmen immediately spread out and began to do a well drilled and trained stretching excercise, focusing on precise movements which Uneiuss realized was designed to take a certain amount of time to perform.
The battlemages had never even heard of this excersise and tried their best to follow along.

Claus was sitting atop the largest wagon in his baggage train, the oxen were still in their spilts and now happily munching some grass when Claus began his meeting with his lieutenants who were simply lined up in front of him with the entire corps just standing there trying to listen in on the meeting.
Uneiuss and especially Orvel were more used to secluded command meetings in special tents where the troops were kept in the dark.
-"Alright people, we're here to train for the upcoming campaign in the north. Uzgob to be precise which is gonna suck. So you'll be fighting carrying double water rations. Then i want you to welcome our new battlemages!" Claus gestured to them and there were mixed reactions.
A few applauds, a holler, waved hands and a bunch of headnods.
-"I want them to be all our new best pals, since they will be keeping a lot of shit from hitting us. So again, make them feel welcome. But don't get too friendly, i do think most of them prefer women over your ugly faces." A few chuckles came, the sound of a woman spoke up.
-"What about me then?"
-"Oh do shut up Daisy!" Claus massive grin shaped his words, but the morale was high and a bunch of snorts and chuckles followed.
-"Right. Today we will have a mock battle, training gear is in the wagons as usual. If i catch anyone with a non training weapon i will have them whipped." Claus booming voice carrying well so a lot of those present could easily hear him.
-"Roogel will lead red side, Ashala........ Jorrel Harpe! You take blue side. I will be taking care of organizing the training itself." Claus for a moment forgot that she was dead, he however soon returned to his usual self.
-"You mages, you will form teams of five, since i heard you work well in groups. Take two teams for support on each side. Focus on defence. I'm thinking one group does only defence and one mixes in some offence. Oh and only non-lethal, i'm sure you can do stuff that gives the guys a good knockin' about." He gesticulated slapping himself while addressing Uneiuss.
-"If hit with a good hit, lay down in the safe way and wait until we're done. Katrina, show the mages the safe way and mr Forrin. You will be with Katrina until further notice."
-"Now go get your stuff!" Claus stood up and clapped hard twice and motioned for people to get going, not before long orderly lines of people getting several training weapons for their teams came up to the wagons and carried bundles of polearms and headbands in bright red or blue.
Roogel and Jorrel were choosing their lieutenants and Uneiuss went along and formed his detachment into two and went and got a bunch of headbands as well.

Within the hour the Steel Fist was deplyed in two forces of roughly a thousand men in each, with crossbow squads, scores of halberdiers and even mage support.
Uneiuss had been asked by Claus to try and guide the battlemage team of Roogel. He was unsure of this and seeing the opposing armies stood up like this opposed each other made him chilled to the core, he was just happy his first battle would be a mock one but still feared getting hit. True the weapons were only training weapons but the leather tips and pads were still perfectly good at giving a burst lip or an ugly bruise.

Orvel Forrin was getting increasingly bitter. Seeing the mock armies in front of him with the only direction to sit next to this little girl. Who apparently was the logistics officer of the entire company.
She was giddy with anticipation and soon all the battlemages realized.
The Steel Fist found the mock battles fun, some of them even had grins on their faces. It was apparent it was a sort of competition as well seeing how excited some were.

With a short sort of fanfare from his horn, Claus called the training to begin.
Immediately Roogel and Jorrel began to shout orders and manouvre their forces trying their best to defeat their opponent, the formations of perfect halberds moved towards each other, trying to shield their crossbowmen who soon set up small fortifications of pavises and began to loose leather tipped bolts upon their foes. The battlemages soon got positions and set up their own pavises and just when they were done a hail of bolts came raining down upon both forces.

Magical shields, gusts of wind and the occasional magical force blast began to form in the air as the battle grew more intense. Many of the bolts simply being flung aside not even close to hitting their marks.
With a loud crash the opposing sides slammed into each other and shouts and the clatter of weapons drowned out a lot of the noise in the entire area.
Nearby farmers looked on in shock, some even began to run to the capitol mistaking the training for some sort of invasion.

During this Claus walked up to Forrin and with a broad smile asked him.
-"Impressive isn't it?"
-"Their drill is better than expected, i give them that." Orvel Forrins crossed arms and bitter retort was not exactly standing ovations, but he was honest. They stood for a short while before Orvel simply couldn't take it any longer and asked.
-"Why am i on the side? Am i not trusted to be in the battle? Or do you wish to insult me?" He faced Claus who looked surprised and answered.
-"No. I simply had an excersice in mind i was gonna throw at you to see how you handle it." Orvel raised and eyebrow and let Claus continue.
-"Imagine this. You just arrived on this site following you restocking your mage thingy supplies in Nyhem. I am nowhere to be found and you get to this baggage train with Katrina here and this field battle going on against the enemy. Let's say Roogels red bands are the enemy. What do you do?"
Orvel thought for a second, opened his mouth to answer him but realized by Claus posture and demeanour that this was a test for him. He turned to Katrina.
-"Quartermaster, i need the medical wagon, there are wounded that need attention!" Orvel was a quick thinker and just began to go with his well groomed instincts of setting up emergency aid stations and sent out two of his guys to immediately recover fallen soldiers while hastily setting up a triage station.

After Katrina helped Orvel she returned to Claus who was just observing his mercenary force in its prime.
-"It's quite the sight isn't it?" Katrina asked with a broad smile on her face, Claus just nodded as she asked again.
-"Are you proud of em?"
-"Prouder than a momma seeing their firstborn walk. They are however lacking form and Terrance squad is not up to snuff." He was trying to hide his pride, but not very well.
Katrina gace Claus a long look and watched him study his companies every move in the excercise. This was his element, he thrived here.
They both studied the minor field battle in front of them. Eventually Harpe's division managed to send a task force to flank Roogels forces and got to the battlemages.

Uneiuss was shocked when he and his men were getting to feel drained that they were completely surrounded by corpsmen with blue bands, he felt the need to fend them off and was planning to until they simply demanded.
-"Surrender, or else we give you all a good clobbering!" It was told in a sort of cheerful glee and Uneiuss realised he had no interest getting clobbered by a fifty or so elite mercenaries so he and his men raised their arms.
Not soon after, having lost their magic support, Roogels division was driven back, a third of the remaining force was set to cover the retreat of the rest. This allowed roughly half of the remaining force to get away while the rest got defeated or captured.

Claus signalled training over after a while, trying to see how Orvel was doing and then began to clap loudly. The rolling applause spread and even hollers and cheers all around with people who seconds ago were fighting like crazy were now embrazing and high fiving each other.
The next hour was spent with Claus going over details he wanted to improve on, praise and comments before food was served.

In the middle of the meal, Claus stood upon a box and boomed out.
-"Alright, there is something i haven't done yet. I have a bunch of fighting to be done!" Many of the corpsmen cheered, while a bunch were just puzzled like Uneiuss and the rest of the battlemages but also the new guys hired in Telmarion.
-"For the new guys, that means i have a friendly duel with each and every one of ya! And i have never lost yet! So line up!" Claus explained and a bunch of people were readying to go.
Uneiuss however noticed the sour look on Forrins face and the apathic indifference of his kinsmen so he put down his bowl hard, stood up and marched off to Claus.

-"What about us?" He said with a stern voice, there was a silence as people listened with anticipation, most of all the battlemages who were assuming they would not be part of this.
-"About you? You wait in line like everybody else. I said EVERYONE, that includes you lot." Claus voice echoed over the entire area.
Uneiuss knew where this was going, so he put to word what all his men were thinking.
-"And i assume 'no magic' since real men don't fight with magic. Right?" He was crossing his arms and Claus got visibly annoyed.
-"Why should i pose such an ridiculous rule, you lot not being allowed to use their magic is like me not being allowed to use my arse, and while my farts are more deadly than any magic i'll refrain from using them since this is a friendly competition!" He lost his annoyance and ended with a smirk.
Uneiuss and the other battlemages were surprised about this, they were used to being set aside, to not be compared in bouts of physical fitness and combat prowess since they had magic but here comes this oaf and wants to do just that.
-"Very well, let's have at it then. Rules?" Uneiuss tried to play it cool and was doing a good job, but he had little actual clue of how these duels were done in the Fist.
-"Simple, first one on the ground and with too little GO left in them to stand up. No lethal attacks and all in good spirits." Claus was grabbing a padded mace, it was still a wooden slab with leather tacked unto it so it could still leave a good bruise.
Uneiuss was given a training sword and they stood up a handful of steps from each other, Uneiuss really trying his best to give his best fencers stance which Claus just leaned his head and scoffed at.
-"You been trained by a fancy teacher? What kinda stance is that!?" He followed up with a laugh and a smirk making his taunting obvious.
-"A stance taught to those of fine birth, unlike you mr Rotstein." Uneiuss retort was quick witted and he even surprised himself, he got a few hollers cheers and whistles with Claus laughing hard.
-"Haha! Are we fine folk now? Perhaps you forgot that i'm actually a lord now, so that's SIR Rotstein to you mister!..... HAVE AT THEE!" Claus gave Uneiuss little time to react and charged in with great speed, Uneiuss was caught off guard but still managed to parry Claus telegraphed attack.

Following up on his advantage, Claus swung from left to right back to left making his foe jump back and parry awkwardly. Uneiuss was not in the mindset yet and was frantically trying to not get hit.
But after Claus last strike where he stopped to give him a grinning smirk Uneiuss reached out his hand and began to channel magic.
Dots, orbs and miniature stars of light emerging like a constellation in front of him, radiating a bright yellow almost white light towards Claus shining weakly upon himself.
The blinding light caught him off guard, but Claus response was to shield his eyes and laugh.
-"NOW we're talking! OOF" His happy exclamation cut short with a solid strike on his helmet jarring him. Uneiuss halted his attack thinking he had struck too hard.
Claus retorted with a manical laugh and gave him a hard kick over the chest which sent him flying.
Had he not been a master Alteration mage, he would probably have hit the ground hard, but Uneiuss was a master Alteration mage and knew all sorts of implementations that others never thought about.
Like telekenesis of an object, like himself.
True it didn't mean he could fly, but he could catch himself, right himself like a rake that someone stepped on and launch a two-handed strike while doing so.
-"NICE TRICK!" Claus boomed while ducking, grabbing hold of Uneiuss belt and the neck of his cuirass and using the momentum to heave him over himself.
Uneius twirled himself in the air, landed softly on his feet and swept Claus feet from under him throwing him to the ground with a yank.

The crowd around them was positively booming with cheers and hollers, some even betting on the fighters to see who would win.
Claus raised his legs and shifted them forward to launch himself with speed to quickly rise up with little issue, he wiped his mouth which was wrought with spittle and he was panting heavily.
Uneiuss matched Claus smirk and took the fencers guard again, which made Claus refreshed with a new laughter. He'd never fought a proper battlemage up close, and this guy was using magic he'd never even seen before. In truth Claus had seldom had this much fun in a fight before and the crowd was going wild over it as well.
With a twitch Claus charged in, tossed his mace towards Uneiuss face which he blocked with ease and little effort. What he didn't block was Claus drop kicking him in the chest and sending him flying backwards a good metre or so landing hard.
He spent a few seconds breathing on the ground, he had fought in Claus mock battle the whole day and had rested only a while before this while Claus was all fresh from overseeing the whole ordeal.
Realizing Claus might think he has given up he held up his sword, pointed his palm at it surrounding it in magical essence showing as a vague glitter and used telekinesis on it to raise it upward, while also holding it effectively giving himself a hand to get up.
Meanwhile Claus was cracking his neck and demanded a training two-hander, which he got in short order while several corpsmen were hollering and ooing.
-"I seldom need one of these, but with you i'm making an exception. You have magic after all." He panted heavily and finished off with a wuick smirk and a flourish.
Once more taking his guard pose Uneiuss was ready to keep going.

With a quick downward thrust Claus closed in, Uneiuss pushed it aside with a motion of his hand and forcing it aside. Claus followed up with an upwards strike which got him good in the side and sent the mage stumbling back a few steps.
With another downwards strike Claus forced his foe on the retreat, Uneiuss had to step back once, twice, a hit left him kneeling and with a level swing from his right Claus swung his sword right at Uneiuss breast.
Kneeling Uneiuss held out both his hands, the moment the sword slammed into his hands it looked like it was covered in see-through stone made of glass, the secong later it crumbled and fell into nothing but the blow bounced like it had just hit a stone wall.
A bit jarred Claus followed up with a step in and pommeled Uneiuss in the head.
With a slight wobble to his movements, Uneiuss took a firm hold of Claus cuirass at the bottom with one hand and with a burst of magic he gave himself the strength of five men and tossed Claus a good man and a half height up into the air.
As Claus was falling down Uneiuss stood up, focused a destruction spell and slammed down with a force blast which hit Claus like a downward wind forcing him unto the ground.
The fall and that blast left Claus wheezing for air, but Uneiuss was now completely spent as well and keeled over and both fighters were left gasping for air on the ground.
The crowd was chanting 'Steelhead, steelhead steelhead!' and 'Magic, magic, magic!' with vigor.

It took several moments before Claus managed to stand up and walk over to Uneiuss, whom just looked up at him and panted heavily, raised a hand and created a small dancing ball of light which erratically danced towards Claus whom easily leaned out of its path.
-"I.... i like your style mage... call it a draw?" He held out his hand for Uneiuss who took it and Claus helped him up.
-"A draw... that... sounds fine...." His answer was strained and with little breath, but both of them had a smile on their faces.
-"Welcome to the Steel Fist mr Imass. You will make a damn fine addition!" With that Claus dragged him close and embraced him and gave a good slam on the back which left Uneiuss gasping for air. A roar of laughter followed from the corpsmen around them.
-"I will take a slight break before my next battle, not that i need it." Claus lied and got a few 'yeah sure' as a response.

After a while Claus began to fight people one by one as he was used to doing. Countering a blow with a fluid motion felling his opponent to the ground and pinning him in place.
The battles against the battlemages were often longer, but several of them were spent after the day and Claus could defeat them with much less effort than it took to take down Uneiuss.
Orvel Forrin gave a good show but in the end Claus managed to shift him to the ground and sit on his back until Forrin gave up.

After the long break, the corps set up another field battle training, with new matchups and mage support. Claus was experimenting with orders and tactics for the battlemages and how to utilize them while his lieutenants were getting used to the circumstances.
The march home was filled with bragging, compliments and friendly insults about the days achievements. To say it was marching was also a bit generous but Claus knew there was no need to ruin the good mood.
People were still talking of things from the day as Claus walked into his office, sat down and took a deep breath.
His men needed this day, to bond and to get crucial field battle skills for the future, a future that would very likely mean the Steel Fist going to Uzgob and fight the enemies of the new-formed imperium of Formaroth.

Letters

Letters.
He had sat down and written for an hour or so, the darkness had set in and the loud chattering outside had died down to a few barely audible words going past the door now and again.
He had sent out one of the kids with a message to the keep that everything was fine, it was only them training and not a hostile force which the farmers had thought.
Right now however he was in the middle of describing the latest imperial advisors meeting, he wrote in detail about his exchange with Isabel De'Reimer when he put down his pen and rubbed his eyes deeply.
He had been getting better sleep lately, but better was still not good. The nightmares occasionally came back and he at times were afraid to sleep.
And he thought of the ethics of things, how to run his company, how to make sure his men got out of the massive cat litter box of Uzgob and how to do his duties to the emperor to his fullest.
Well, good enough at least.
He took a gulp of water and dreamed of a good mug of Orog wine, or perhaps a strong grog. He wrote about Lanayas outrage and how he beat the crap out of Vivian Blackwell and of her fate.
With that he finished the letter with no name and the text 'as usual, burn this letter after copying it.'
He sealed it with wax with no stamp and wrote the recipient.
House Blackwell, ser Eli.
After which he sent for Roogel who arrived shortly.
-"This goes to the backyard place, you know the guy." Claus order was acknowledged by a simple nod from Roogel who left the room with the letter and no words.
At times he wondered if this was ethical, how it would affect the future of the realm, if this was worth getting a silly sword over.
He decided there is a price to a sword, that price was now paid.
Roughly five letters had Claus sent to the Blackwells since the old man had met him. Now six letters, letters filled with state secrets and crucial information written as well as Claus could understand it, which in truth wasn't always that well but smart people could probably puzzle together his incoherent scribbles and he knew that Eli probably devoured the information like a ravenous hound.
But now it was time for it to end. After all now he would soon be in all out war with the man and Claus didn't want to make it any more dangerous for himself than he already had.
Who knew, perhaps he had already given Eli too much. Perhaps it was nothing.
Perhaps he was just contemplating this to avoid going to sleep. It was seriously late and Claus just realized he was ready to drop.

Eli would have to find a way to cope with the loss of his letters. Claus cared little for it as he simply walked to his room and his bed.
As he opened his door he was met with a pair of gazing deep red eyes, they stared into his soul and they burned hotter than any fire.
As soon as it appeared it was gone. Claus heart was now beating harder than the drummer on a warship, he was even hallucinating, or so he hoped. The panic he felt was residing and he wasn't even sure anymore if he had even seen anything at all.
He wasn't even sure about his own hallucinations... he desperately needed sleep now.
With a heavy thud he sat down on his bed, reached behind his bedtable and produced a bottle of hard liqcor. The bassy plop of the cork leaving the bottle as he forced it out was distinct, but he didn't care, he cheered his inner deamons and downed half the bottle.
He put the cork back and let the booze set in, before he literally fell asleep from exhaustion.

It wasn't always like this. But some nights were harder than others.
Sometimes they still haunted his mind, the hollow ghosts and memories of the battle of hymns.

Thanks

Thanks to @TheDuncanMorgan for giving me pointers and input on the use of magic.

The Fumes of War

Kingdom of Svedira

Kingdom of Svedira.

The flag of Svedira is in three parts, at times the parts hang vertically. The charge is then turned so that it always is upright.

Geography:

Svedira lands are almost exclusively mountainous. Steep slopes, rocky platous and the odd glacier here and there. Forests exist but they are deep and dark and steeped in folklore and mystique. Wood isn't a commonly utilized material at all in Svedira and so the woods are left almost alone since the middle ages.

Geographical Location of Country:

probably neighbouring Vercigetorix

|Country Size:| Roughly Small.
Each square pixel of the map is around 256 kilometres, or 16x16 kilometres.

Cities:

Cities: Logusû
The grand Capital of the kingdom of Svedira. A tiered fortress carved into a mountain with the royal palace at the top. Large parts of the town has been clad in red marble and Logusû is known as the "Red city" to many.
The sun reflects on the gold trims of the palace and in the red marble of the city which makes it a beautiful place.

Pross
This city is far less impressive. Constantly covered in black smoke, the smokestacks outnumber the population it would seem and there is always noise of industry somewhere.
This is the biggest producer of Steel in Aeagan. And coal comes out of the mountain on large conveyor belts in an unending stream.

Sentra
Much less of a city but more of a massive village, it is here the majority of the farms of Svedira reside. Since the entire place is strewn along cliff faces and mountain-tops, even more so than Logusû and Pross the area is exhausting to hike through and vehicles are basically useless.
But an experiment with a strength suit similar to the warsuit is at times used to carry things. But the best way to automate this area is with expensive lift contraptions.

Natural resources:

There is one thing that exist in the moutains of Svedira above all else. Coal.
Coal has fueled the state ever since it was first found in the rocky slopes during the middle ages and it has been mined ever since. The massive veins seem to have no end and the sky runs black from all the coal fires.
One of the primary uses of the coal is to smelt the high quality iron which is abundant as well in the mountains of Svedira.

With their age old focus on coal and steel, their metallurgical knowledge of this material is unsurpassed in Aeagan and none produce finer steel than Svedira steel.
However, this doesn't imply a great versatile knowledge of metallurgy. For other metals have always been seen as inferior. They never saw the use of aluminum as anything other than interesting plates for nobility, gold is pretty but lack strength, tungsten and chromium are not even common knowledge.

The primary source of food is from the Gosser-goat, a mountain goat indigenous to the mountains of Svedira and is fat from eating the roots of the Toppler herb. The herb growing along all sorts of slopes but is tricky to farm since it require a moss covered stone base. A staple in Svedira cooking is Toppler root with Gosser meat.
The Gosser-goat is also the source of wool that the vast majority of clothes in Svedira is made. Thick sturdy cloth which many people find itchy. But it's warm and strong.

Other common things are copper, lead, basalt, stone, uranium and marble.

People & Culture:

The people of Svedira are hardy, tall, somewhat stout and has a marvelous balance. Natural climbers all, those who weren't good has been waned off through natural selection.
Svedirans also have a great sense of national pride, seeing their history of being oppressed minority. They took the mountain for themselves and NO ONE will take it from them.
Otherwise the Svedirans are kind and helpful folks, always ready to give a hand to a neighbour or a stranger.

Cultural oddities

If you are offered goat milk in a wooden bowl, it means you have been accepted as a member of the family. It is seen as a big deal in Svedira.

Teens often climb to a ledge near the village in the night and drink and shout over the glaciers. The drunk quires of bassy shouting is seen as providing good luck in the future and to be invited along is a sign of friendship.

Tossing rocks down the mountain is seen as causing bad luck.

Loudly counting 1, 2, 3, 4 doing a thing and finishing off with a 5 is common practice. No one knows the origin.
An example is jumping a gap. 1,2,3,4 HUPP! 5!!! With 5 after landing.

Looking an outsider in the eyes and rubbing oneself with wool cloth is seen as an insult, implying the outsider is weaker than Svedira folk.

Population:

Roughly 8 million people.

Demographics:

WIP minority from other country here. Large majority of population.

Government:

Absolute monarchy.

Ruler:

cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/568557…
King Vasil Svediri, lord of Logusû, king of the highest land, ruler of Pross.
"The good king of the mountain."

The king of Svedira is a rather young king at 24, taking over from his father King Frerik Svediri II who died of pneumonia at the ripe age of 64, may he advice us all in Zevo.
Vasil has ruled since he was 14 but only recently at age 18 really got to the part of ruling, since up to that point he was still very much still in royal training to become king.
Learning the arts of science, economy, diplomacy but also painting, poetry and longsword fencing. (Where he got his scar on his lip.)

His strength was never in the physical department, unlike the Svediran kings of old who were broad shouldered giants of men, he is far more slender in appearance.
This doesn't mean that he is small by international standards at 1'82cm in length.

During his rule king Vasil has encountered problems in how to rule Svedira. Unlike his father, who was a warmonger and the reason Svedira is so ludicrously militarized in its current state.
Vasil is trying to go the fine line of catering to the will of his people, while aiming for lasting peace for his kin.
Which is difficult with the resentment and at times even still raging hatred for the empire of Vercingetorix and other neighbouring lands.
King Vasil is however still hard at work and his biggest project so far is finally done, the first international Svediran rail-line, which goes to the corax dominion.
This is the first of his many steps in his plan to create lasting peace with his surrounding countries.

The primary obstacle for the good king is ironically enough his own populace, who are often nationalistic and proud to worrying lengths. Always ready to fight the enemies of Svedira and often with a faultless loyalty to the king.
So Vasil must be careful with his choices and decisions or risk alienating his subjects.

Royal family

King Vasil also has two sisters.

Karina Svediri.
A long haired beauty with a stern face. She is 26 and advices the king on political matters. Her intellect is large and the king much values the input of his sister in matters of the state.
She owns the foundry which produces most of the blimps of Svedira, giving her great influence in the air traffic of Svedira.

Veroniq Svediri.
Dark blonde unlike her siblings, she is 20 years old and was the reason their mother died because of complications at birth.
This has affected the young lady and while no one else blames her, she secretly blame herself.

She is very artistic and keep her guilt at bay with fine art. She advises the king on matters of culture and art and is semi in charge of the royal art museum in Logusû.

Volksgeist:

The national identity of Svedira is their strong sense of freedom and a feeling of belonging in the mountain. To be Svediran is an honor and a duty, that duty is to Svedira which means its king.

It is also a very martial society, everyone, including the women, are trained to fight with some sort of hand to hand weapon since the middle ages, in modern times this now incorporated firearms and every family is by law required to have a firearm per family and one weapon per member of the house of fifteen years or older.
Chivalry is a common notion and it is particularly common in Logusû, where knights are commonplace even in the modern age.

Honor is however not that important to Svedirans, or at least not in the common sense. To break the law is ugly and frowned upon in society and the rules of war are held onto with great respect and seriousness.
The only exception to this is towards Vercingetorix Where it is not uncommon to toss out the civil laws of war and go to borderline war crimes because of the deep rooted resentment and hatred for their ancient foe.

Factories have not really taken off either so a large portion of the production is made by artisans. Making the supplying of the military costly but the quality of the equipment is outstanding since the craftsmen take their job at the utmost of serious.

Religion:

The people of Svedira has roughly the same religion it had when it was Nehrvak, an ancestor based religion called nothing at all.
By others it's referred to as ancestor worship or paganism or heathendom.

The core belief is that if you remember your ancestors, they never truly die, and when one dies one goes to a realm known as Zevo.
Zevo is different for everyone, one can temporarily visit in life during intense meditation or spiritual enlightenment (hallucination) and it always takes a place of serenity for the worshipper.
If visiting Zevo, one can ask for guidance and if the ancestors want to, they answer.

When one dies one is in a limbo, in Zaak.
But as people remember them, and particularly after a remembrance ritual one enters Zevo to live with the ancestors.
Zevo isn't a paradise where one lives forever, but more like where ones soul exist and it can reform to answer questions.

To end up in Zidenûs is to be forgotten, people speak not of this fate.
But those who have done heinous acts that makes someone deserve to be forgotten end up there. It is never defined but it's a horrible place.
Only the worst are wished to end up there.

To end up in Zaak is not as bad. While Zevo is tranquil and Zidenûs is anguish. Zaak is nothing.
Some people even prefer to be forgotten, but it is seen as a choice of ones peers if one deserves to be remembered or not.
To feel one wants to end up in Zaak and tell this to others is often met with comfort and support. It's a melancholy state similar to depression if not actually depression.

A common saying is "Remember the fallen." Since they are heroes to Svedira and because of this people doesn't fear death as much as in other nations.
Sure they fear it, but it's a more tranquil response than most other faiths.

History:

What is now a simple province in the east of the empire of Vercingetorix, the former kingdom of Nerhvak resides forgotten and without history.
In the middle ages, during the years the empire expanded the most the Kingdom of Nehrvak was targeted for occupation, but what was supposed to be a peaceful occupation took a poor turn when incompetence, fear and misunderstanding combined which resulted in one of the most famous genocides in history, 'the great march'.

The empire of Vercingetorix pushed hard diplomatically for annexation of Nehrvak, the king gave in and as imperial soldiers patrolled the streets, he took his own life with a dagger .
This unknowingly sent a message to the populace, there can be no life under the empire and as such a monstrous proportion (in modern times counted to be roughly 98%) of the population decided to leave Nehrvak.

The occupation was led by general Polter whom was ill equipped and had poor instructions apart from "Seize Nehrvak and its people for the empire, peacefully." But when the population simply stood up and left he was completely surprised and had little idea of a good solution.
He decided that the order was "Peacefully, if possible!" And began to force the refugees to stay.
Widespread fear of the empire and less than optimal conditions led to violence, often imperial troops shot in the air just to be cut down from behind by frantic farmers.
Having taken firearms, the situation escalated.
Where some parts of the refugee horde had formed into a makeshift militia others simply ran for their lives.
No side was completely free of blame in the great march but what is known is the escalation.

The Nehrvak refugees kept on their march, and reached the mountains of Svedira.
The Svedira mountains used to be far to uninhabitable for most settlers. And had it not been for outside influences the refugees of Nehrvak would certainly never have settled there.

Thousands upon thousands lost their lives during the great march. Which led to the mountains of Svedira. Now having nowhere to flee but up the mountains they took the latter choice, the climb claimed hundreds of lives, the weather thousands more since winter was in full swing.
But in the end the refugees found the large valley of Pross.
Here they began to make their new life. The army of Polter not having the resources nor will to follow them into the mountains there and then sat up a siege to later sent to drag them out by force.
By then the refugees had begun to fortify the mountains, landslides planned and precision strikes from flanks and above often killing many many more than they lost.

Now it was settled, the mountains of Svedira had been their salvation, so now they would be the people of Svedira.
For years the army of Polter assailed them, but as time passed the empire got news of the situation.
The entire operation had gone nothing like they planned and they realized they'd made an enemy where they planned to get a new province.
General Polter was degraded and court marshalled, the army was sent to other duties.

The 20 year old siege had ended and now the people of Svedira were fully settled in the mountains.
The old hatred settled as well and instead resentment set in. But set on showing themselves as the better people they began to build the Capitol of Logusû, it would be the crown jewel of the mountains of Svedira, a gemstone upon the tallest top.
In reality it's not on the highest mountain, but it's still a marvelous place which is breathtaking to all who see it.

At the advent of steam, the empire came back, but this time with another strategy. For now coal was needed, and a lot of it. Coal which was abundant in Svedira and everyone wanted it.
The empire sought to open trade with Svedira, other nations vied for the mineral rich mountains but couldn't get a hold on them. For decades the wars, skirmishes and sabotage was claiming lives on both sides. The conflict making the Svedirans more and more martial in nature.
Preferring heavy armour and close quarter fighting, they often triggered a landslide followed by charging in and massacring the survivors.
In latter years with the advent of firearms the heavy guns of Svedira are feared by their enemies.

Only in the very latest years have Svedira had peace, a troubled cease-fire with a great attempt at trade.
Svedira has constructed a single train line with a single armoured train. It is always manned with a thousand elite soldiers and it goes to the corax dominion largely funded by corax. It's goal is to sell coal in exchange for goods that cannot easily be obtained in the mountains.
It is a shaky cease fire, very expensive for Svedira and barely worth it. But they are determined to prove they are the better people and to make it work. For if they can have peace would that not be best?

Armed Forces:

The Svediran military is a massive part of their budget, almost 10% of it goes to fortifications alone. What this does however is put loads of workers in jobs, which in turn feeds families and the economy.
'The steel of Svedira is worn' is a common saying and it shows, the sturdy folk of the mountains wear an exorbitant amount of armour compared to other militaries soldiers and the tradition forged from constant infantry tactics have set the land into a technological mess.

Large parts of the society is still in the middle ages in a way, military vehicles are barely used and those that are are solely steam tech. The modern invention of diesel tech is solely used on the armour of the infantry and the lone oil pump and refinery in Pross is guarded by a comparably ridiculous force for such a facility. But considering it's important for the working of the Svedira combat suits it's no wonder it is so meticulously guarded.

There are three major wings of the military.
The ranger corps, the infantry and the royal guard.
All of them supplied with gas masks as standard.

The ranger corps

Estimated 50'000 soldiers.
The most active of the forces in Svedira, they are tasked with border security. Seeing how the vast majority of the borders of Svedira is mountainous the regular combat suits of the infantry is not practically plausible.
Instead they wear a 'Light armour' as the Svedirans refer to it. Compared to the armour of other nations however it's a hulking mass of steel capable of stopping pistol bullets and some light calibre or powder rifles.
Armed with a break action rifle, built to mimic the muskets of old. They are accurate rifles firing non-enriched uranium bullets. Which are dense, heavy and poisonous and with a copper casing and steel tip that has marvelous armour piercing qualities.
The 'light' armour is at times bought by militia as part of the armed family law.

The infatry corps

Estimated 100'000 soldiers.
The heavy lifters, heavy hitters and primary force of Svedira. The infantry wear what is known as 'medium armour' which is a fully functional battlesuit for the common soldiers.
In their constant search for heavier armour for their infantry, Svedira has come to the point as to where they give their infantry these, the 'Mountainside warsuit', an exoskeleton providing support and strength for the heavy metal plates and their heavy weapons, the light portable cannon.
The cannon is a 40mm bolt action cannon that can fire uranium penetrators similar to the rangers, explosive, gas and incendiary rounds. However the gas and incendiary rounds are prone to misfire so are not used frequently nor en masse.
The warsuits are clunky and often hot and sluggish, but while their movements might not be gracious, they can take a beating. Regular pistols do no harm against them and it takes a heavy rifle to have any chance of a certified penetration, and even then the shot will have lost a lot of its force.

Special troops. Trench-sweepers.

These soldiers are uncommon and wear the 'Fortress warsuit', the heaviest suit available to Svedira together with a cyclic 12mm machine gun which fires similar uranium penetrators as the ranger corps in rapid succession.
One or two of these soldiers are covered so they can get into the trench of the enemy and from there just wade through it and spew death in front of them. In their left arm they often carry a warsuit sized warpick, to pry open doors, armour plates and lightly armoured vehicles.
Some trench-sweepers carry a flamethrower instead of the chaingun. Another variation is the 18,5mm chain-shotgun loaded with uranium pellets and producing a rapid firing shotgun which devastates unarmoured foes.

The royal guard.

Estimated 10'000 elite soldiers.
To be a royal guard is to be the finest of the Svediran military, chosen solely on merit and after that further trained, these soldiers are the elite and it shows.
Unwilling to don such cumbersome armour as the warsuits, they wear a superior version of the 'light armour', capable of standing up to small rifles with some dependency.
Their primary defence however is their skill and their speed. Capable of running as fast as an unarmoured man in his armour, these soldiers
have few equals.
They are the best suited to fighting in either long range or intense close quarters. They carry blades as a sign of office but make no mistake, they are equally highly trained and lethal with the sword as a rifle.
The rifles and pistols are the same type as the ranger corps utilize but of obvious better quality. The swords are of magnificent quality tempered steel and thus cannot pierce armour that well. But against infantry that seldom matters in this age.

A final truth about the royal guard is that few know how utterly devout they are to the king.
Not even the king knows, but he knows of a few events in the past.
For several times in history, the royal guard has gone against the orders of the military to 'better serve and protect the king', something which can be a potential problem within the kingdoms armed forces.
In history generals have been ignored and even literally pushed out of the way for a royal guard.

Fun facts

Svediran engineers was the proud inventors of the escalator.

|People of Interest:|

None yet.

|Starting Tech:|

Hurr durr, lvl 5 infantry :P