Varica: Children of the Sky

From: Haecadem II, Servant of the Emperor
To: Hroth V, Emperor of Varica, Four-Times-Blessed Ruler of the World, and Honoured Taka the Sage

Sire, I have written this with all possible haste, so as to give you full reassurance of my loyalty and readiness to fight against whatever enemies you see fit, as I and my people have done in the reign of your father before you. I do not write this, as some dishonest courtiers might claim, out of fear of your displeasure; for although I have heard that the bad tongues at your palace have said that I have delayed in sending an envoy to acclaim you out of impudence or conniving, I am your loyal subject and so cannot for a moment entertain the thought that you might listen to such vile and baseless slander of those who simply mean to make me a traitor one way or another. I assure you that they would never succeed, and that I consider myself honour-bound to assist you and your house in every way.

As for the reason why I was slow in writing, it is simply that the bittersweet news - bitter due to your father's death and sweet due to your ascension - have arrived with a delay; and though it may seem brash, as a loyal subject I feel obliged to point out that those of your false-advisers who make it out as if the eastern kings are not your allies but your foes are the ones to blame for this, for how else could one of your own envoys be stopped? In addition to this, it so happened that I was not in Werhold when the news did arrive, and have only recently returned from patrolling the realm entrusted to me and mine, to the infuriating news of the slander those cowards dare bore you with.

I had this message written as soon as I heard of this, so as to reassure you once again of my loyalty and confidence, and to pass on my best and fondest wishes for your incipient glorious reign, and to ask you to allow me to show my loyalty further by ordering me to attack your foes, for it will be a great honour to the people I lead, a great benefit to you and your plans, and a great dismay to all who wish to deceive you.

---

From: Haecadem II, King of the Werar
To: Jyanna, Queen of the Hrafn

It is sorrowful to hear that your husband, a mighty war-leader who was like an older brother to me and an inspiration to all Varican warriors, was laid low in such a way and by such despicable foes at the height of his glory; nevertheless it is also joyful to hear that he died in battle and died victorious. I ask that I be allowed to attend in person and with all my finest and oldest warriors, many of whom have had the honour of fighting alongside the Hrafn in the past - for they all will want to honour him, just like I do. And I would also want to assist the Hrafn in every way possible if those new northern enemies reemerge, for this would honour him better than anything else; so I should like to speak with you and your foremost warriors on this matter, and see how I and my warriors might best help you.
 
I'm around and about, now that there's something to be interested in again. ;)

Should respond to various PM questions at some point later today. My apologies for taking so long.

Got a bit of a problem. After two weeks with no response I launched assuming that you might not play. Kraznaya claimed Oerdan. Kraznaya, would you mind switching to the Gibraly or Rhenican Empires for Fuschia can reclaim the Oerdan?
 
OOC: Looking at the stats, I think grain production should be boosted all along the board. :)

And orders coming in 15 minutes :D
 
OOC: The deadline has passed. It is now Friday morning Korean Standard time. New players who don't get their starting stats in by tomorrow will be removed from the game. Fuschia has submitted orders for Oerdan while Kraznaya has not. I am awarding Oerdan to Fuschia, the original Oerdan player.

******************************************************************

To: Our most loyal servant, King Haecadem II of Werhold
From: Emperor Hroth V, penned by his Regent Taka


Fear not, my beloved friend, for the reputation of Werhold and her king cannot be soured by poisonous words. We know that you serve us well, as you did our father.

The death of two great warleaders in such quick succession leaves us fearful for our northern subjects. But though a Hrafan commanded our forces in the north, we know that a Werar commanded our forces in the west not long ago. Both peoples have marched side by side on every campaign of my father.

Though I have send the Hrafn many warriors, it is to protect them in their moment of weakness after the loss of so many men and great commanders. I ask that you take up the mantle as protector of the northern frontier. I am sending you 100 Raeka to aid you should the barbarians attempt to avenge their loss. In this way you will have the chance to prove your loyalty, not to me, for I believe your heart is true, but for all of your detractors, so that they might be shown as liars and fools. Should you wish to make an offensive of your own, use your judgment.
 
Update 0: Winter, 143

As the winter gives way to spring, the future of the Empire is uncertain.

The threat of war looms heavily over the south. Kings who have maintained their independence for decades, surviving foreign invaders and ideas alike, muster their armies for battle once more as tensions rise. The Sunta, the Huroto, the Tera, even the Xanfa eye each other warily, waiting to see who will escalate further.

The two greatest men of the Empire lay dead, slain within two months of each other. The Emperor’s loss was felt across the whole of Varica, but the knowledge that Adalbrandr would guide the new child-emperor gave the people hope. His death against the strange Manische to the north-east of Varica was as great a shock as the loss of the Emperor.

The fringes of the Empire could unravel at any moment. Oerdan slips further and further towards Tessilki and the Thune. Though they are quiet now, the Darians may seize the opportunity to rebel. The Nakar and Fulanti lie just beyond the borders of the Empire, eager for revenge for the loss of their capital. The Gamars are quiet now, but are known to strike whenever they sense weakness. Most dire of all, the Manische lie beyond the borders of the Empire. The ancient regent, Taka, is thought by many to be too old to deal with the task ahead of him. Only time will tell if the doubters will be proved right.

But from the deaths of the two foremost men of the Empire has given the kings a chance at peace. The funeral of Adalbrandr will see the greatest kings of Empire and beyond come to Varica to celebrate his life. There is a chance that his funeral will see the kings of the realm set aside their differences

While many great men are dead, others remain. Cul Funkard of the Huroto and Tyrion of Teraldur have proved a useful bulwark to the Empire and may yet destroy the Sunta menace. Matteo rules over a vast trade empire that holds together the disparate part of the Empire. His greatest competition comes from the north. Werhold has recovered from its own civil war and now thrives. King Haecadem rules a land known for its intellectual and trading strength. The chronicles of Werhold are considered by many to be the definitive history of Varica. Dolu has risen from the ashes and stands alongside the Hrothnani as guardians of the north-west.

There are as many enemies inside the Capital as beyond its borders. Hronu, the Commander of the Imperial Raeka, Callista, mother of the Emperor, Venci, mother of Hroth IV’s other sons, Vallari, Hroth V’s spiritual advisor, and Tomakin, Magistrate of Varica, and Hroak, Hroth IV’s most trusted general all have their own goals and their own powerplays to make.

Rumours:

(Take these with a grain of salt. Though they include truths, they also contain exaggerations, elements of myth, and outright lies)

A Darian aiking (village chiefs and their chosen champions) was found with his throat slit in the night. This is the third such murder in a year. The blame has been placed on the Vengeful and the Damned, die-hard Dolu warriors who lost everything during the Darian invasion.

A Hrafn warrior has stumbled, frostbitten and half-dead from wounds, into a border village of the Bealdor. He was taken to Werhold as soon as he could be moved. He is s survivor of Adalbrandr’s army who was cut off from the rest. He brings news of an army of equal size to what Adalbrandr faced marching south. He tightly clutched some strange device wrapped in cloth. A present he said, for his king.

The Gamars and Darians living in the northern mountains have reported seeing strange sights. Strange lights were seen above the mountain tops. Some claim them to be the ghosts Haeka’s daughters dancing among the stars, spreading their glorious coloured light across the night sky. Other say it is Jagrokan, using his powers to keep the armies of the night at bay. A few have reported seeing huge, fearsome shapes frolicking on the highest peaks. Whether they are Sargothi, Fulanti, or some strange giants unknown to Varica, none can say, but few believe they have good intentions.

Hundreds of Phridian Haekists have been slaughtered in Bexuni. No one lifted a finger to stop what is now being called the ‘Temple of Light Incident’. Other call it the ‘Temple of Light Massacre’. The Phridians have created a new word for it: martyr. They call the even the ‘Temple of Light Martyrdoms’ or, more troublingly, ‘the first martyring’.

The Tikeecee continue their wild campaign against the Tarnee. The Tikeecee have lost many warriors, but they are now joined by wild Drissili tribesmen, wild thune of the north and their former enemies.

Haecomus have come to Coastal Varica in ships that rival those of the thune. They speak a strange tongue none understand. They have been allowed to stay among the Rheni and Yumin, but only in tiny enclaves of their own.

A wildman covered in paint of a thousand colours came to the lands of the Mannu. He danced a strange dance from midday until sunrise the next morning. He vanished without a trace.

***********************************************************************************

@Vert: I changed the amount of cash available for starting armies for all nations after you sent in your stats, I reduced your starting forces accordingly. Also, just like metal, you don’t have to spend vorthai or grain on starting forces.

Omega’s claims have lapsed. The Romadi are now available for new players. It should be noted that the Romadi had a marriage alliance with Assfell. The husband, Rodull, I believe died with Adalbrandr.

Those players who have gotten their stats in on time will receive a minor growth bonus.
I still need starting stats from:
Shadowbound (Four Claw)
Lord_Iggy (Dolu)
Labrat13 (Nimosa)
Charles Li (Ropp-Rokina Alliance)


Those who have not will not receive the bonus. Should their stats not be in by the time I return from Japan in five days, they will recieve an unspecified penalty, probably in the form of an event. In the future, I will punish late orders without proper warning in this thread with penalties.

I still require an updated order set from Last Praetoria. He submitted orders on time but I need them corrected. He will receive the bonus for getting his orders on time.

Let me know if I’ve made any mistakes. It’s very likely.

Orders for update 1 are due midnight March 5th, Korea Standard Time.

Send all orders to me (including trade orders) and trade related orders to Shadowbound. Anyone who needs to do defensive orders will have a few days after that. This turn is long because of my five day vacation.
 
The men of Surtn lay still among the reeds. Dalrir could see not a single one, but he knew they were there. Thirty chosen men of Surtn and Carrowbacht lurked in the swampy moor behind the Manische.

The men of Surtn were reknowned, even among the Hrafn, for their skill at war. They were known as the ghosts of the forest by their comrades for how they moved so silently. They’d earned the notice of their king in the northern wars that expanded Assfell into the great unknown beyond the forests.

It was by his order that they lay in the swamps now. A half-dozen of their strange enemies lay dead, their bodies hidden under the mud of the swamp. Now the Surtn awaited their chance. A hundred enemies stood before them. Goods odds for any Hrafn, but glory wasn’t the goal here. Lesser men would have charged madly into the general’s bodyguard in search of honour, but not the Surtn. Their mission was clear: slay the Manische lord and escape. Slaying a score of warriors would bring Dalrir no honour unless their target was one of them. So they waited for the moment.

Fifty of the Manische sat atop the strange mounts the bards called Yomba. There were monsters of out of legend that ate wayward children in lore of the Hrafn, yet here they were, in the flesh, ridden by mere men. What kind of men can tame a legend? Dalrir thought to himself as he watched.

There was a flash of light, brighter than any he had seen before. Surely a sign that Haeka was watching! This must be the moment! In the center of the ring of guards, the enemy general held up his rod of command. The Yomba riders kicked at their mounts. The things screamed and unearthly cry of rage at the indignity, but regardless rushed down the hillside towards the Hrafn below.

Dalrir turned his gaze to Jorn, his aiking, veteran of the wars with the Snerkitta and the Nakar. When the Yomba were out of sight, Jorn put his fingers to his lips and made a call like a raven. The men of Surtn and Carrowbacht rose silently from the bog and began the approach towards the Manische. The Manische were unaware, relying on their pickets to warn them of any flankers. The same pickets that lay beneath the bog.

They were only forty yards from the Manische when the alarm was raised. It was met by the deafening battle cries of thirty of the Raven’s greatest servants. Dalrir’s voice joined those of his brothers. The Manische would die, or they would all meet again in Haeka’s hall.

*************************************************************************************

Duke Zio frowned down at the battle below. This was supposed to be an easy campaign: march west in advance of the Prince’s armies and invest tribes beyond the Sissiric thune. There were rumours that some barbarian lord made war on those tribes, from the rumoured empire of ‘Vareesa’. It was his mission to stop the Vareesans and invest the western tribes in the name of the Emperor.

Zio had thought the Vareesans, with their massive tropical empire, to be a myth, a legend told to keep Manische warriors on their toes. All men knew that no country could match the strength of the Manische. The Emperor’s armies had never known defeat, who could think that

Zio now saw the price of his arrogance. The army before him was more than his equal in numbers. He hadn’t thought barbarians could organize such an army, but they had. Most surprisingly were the elite soldiers they fielded. Disciplined and well armoured, they must be the Vareesan equivalent to his master’s Imperial Guard.

No matter, he would still have his victory. It would be costly, but who among his people could boast of victory over such an army? In the distance, he heard the unmistakable sound of the Star-Thrower, the ancient weapon wielded by the sons of his house.

“How fares my son, Yol?” he asked of the cavalry captain beside him. Yol was known for his sharp eyes as well as his quick wits.

“His counterattack is working. We’ve broken their Guard. They’re brace though my lord Duke. Some are standing to fight.”

Duke Zio nodded. Not even the legendary Vareesans could withstand the might of the holy relics. He watched with pleasure as his son’s Star-Thrower cut gaping holes in the Vareesan’s ranks. He lacked Yol’s eyes, but even he could see the burning balls of the Sky-Warrior’s weapon.

Suddenly, a blast larger than that even of a Fire-Pike blinded him.

“Yol! My son!” he cried in despair. Yol didn’t answer. The Duke raised his God-Lance and waved the cavalry forward. “Avenge my son!” The yomba sped down towards the battle below, spears leveled and birds shrieking. “You!” He pointed to a guardsmen. “Fetch me a yomba, I will avenge my son on these barbarous bastards!”

The Duke sat back onto the chair of command that was his honour to sit on. He put his head in his hands to hide the tears from his soldiers. There was no room for weakness among his people. He couldn’t live with the double shame of surviving his son and showing weakness.

Someone behind him called out. Zio turned. Some of the barbarians had snuck through his sentries somehow. He sneered at the murderers. He knelt on the ground and braced his God-Lance against his shoulder. He aimed at the biggest of the barbarians and flicked up the trigger guard. The sneer on his face grew as he pressed the button on the God-Lance’s stock.

*************************************************************************************

Vayka, the greatest of the Carrowbacht warriors, led the charge. Dalrir had seem him snap the necks of his former brothers among the Reyki like they were sticks. His strength had so impressed the Carrowbacht aiking that he accepted the man as his own to replace a son killed be the Reyki. Today, he led the Carrowbacht men towards the Manische.

The Guardsmen led out a ragged volley from their oversized crossbows. Three men fell, quickly forgotten by the rest. The Hrafan responded with their francescas then threw themselves into the Manische. Dalrir watched at Vayka raised his double-handed axe and bellowed in rage. A beam of light, as if from Haeka’s hand itself, lept from the crowd of enemies and pierced Vayka like sunbeam pierces the clouds. He fell with a burning hole in his heart. His precious chainmail holed as easily as his flesh.

Dalrir stopped in shock. He stared down at the huge man. A man that songs would surely have sun of so easily slain by…. by what? By light? By the divine light or Haeka, or… some… perversion? Some daemon force? How could be? He was Varican, the chosen of Haeka. More than that, he was Hrafn, the creations of Haeka himself from his beloved ravens.

He snapped back into reality. The Surtn and Carrowbachti hit the lines of the Manische. He starred down at Vayka’s massive axe and knew what he must do. Let the priests and poets divine the meaning of this. He was warrior of Varica. He knew he place. He hefted the mighty axe and lifted his voice to the sky.

A Manische lay on his side, wounded, hiding beneath his oversized tower shield. Dalrir ran up the shield like a ramp and leapt off of the end. He drew back the axe as he ran. Landing in the middle of the ring of Guardsmen, he brought his axe down on a guardsmen, splitting skull and splintering shield with the massive weapon. Jorn and another man rushed through the gap Dalrir made. They charged the Manische lord. The daemon weapon lanced through the two men, but the burning hole in his abdomen couldn’t stop Jorn. The last swing of Jorn’s sword removed the Manische’s head from his shoulders. They both collapsed in a heap.

Dalrir dropped the axe and lunged for the strange Manische weapon. He turned to see the Manische closing in, “Hrafn!” He shouted and held the weapon high. Though they were brave, they were few. Barely a score of his comrades cheered at his prize. They knew instinctively what to do. With that weapon, the honour they would earn would be endless.

Those who still had francescas launched them at the Guardsmen surrounding Dalrir. The others made a final charge. Dalrir ran as quickly as he could into the swamp and the chase was on.

*************************************************************************************

Three men huddled in the darkness. They suffered the encroaching winter silently. In the distance the cries of the awful terror birds filled the night. Dalrir knew now what it must have been to live in Hroth’s time. Packs of Fulanti ruled the night in those days. Varicans huddled together for protection against the daemons that hunted them. The Fulanti would taught them with their animal cries. The Hrafn would sing the songs of their people to ward off the darkness and keep up their spirits. When compared to the legendary deeds of Blargramr, how could any Hrafn be afraid of a simple Fulanti?

But there would be no songs to ward off the Manische and their wild steeds. Fourteen men had escaped the battle. Now only three remained. They’d tried to find the rest of Adalbrandr’s army, but their pursuers prevented it. Now, after too many weeks of dodging them through the Zostor tribes and plains thune, they had no idea where they were or what to do next.

Gndull, the carpenter, and Bruul, a tenant farmer of Jorn’s were all that remained of the mighty men of Surtn and Carrowbacht. They were Dalrir’s equals, but they followed his lead. They thought him blessed by Haeka for his victory. Starving, exhausted, and with numb and blackening hands, Dalrir thought the others had a rather dim view of Haeka’s blessing.

The shrieking stopped. “Come,” he said to the others, “If we can’t find shelter, we won’t survive the night.

“Which way?” Gndull asked.

Dalrir stared up at the night sky for a moment. “There’re Thea’s scales. We head towards it.” South, towards Varica, eventually. But who knew how far away the blessed capital was, or even the damn frontier.

They hurried through the endless sea of tall grasses. In the distance he could see something, some point of light on the horizon. A house? A village? A bright, low star? Whatever the source, there it was, and light is life.

In the distance, the shrieking started again. The Varicans stopped and dropped to the ground. Gndull and Bruul looked gravely at each other. “We saw the light. Go to it. We’ll keep them back.” The two men rose to their feet and disappeared into the grasses, their frozen hands barely able to hold onto their weapons.

Dalrir rose shakily to his feet. He said a silent prayer for his friends. With what little strength he had left, he launched himself towards the village. He could hear the desperate clash of arms behind him. The terror birds would feast tonight.

He staggered now through fields of grain and suddenly into the light. A great bonfire silhouetting a dozen bow-armed men. Exhausted, he collapsed at the edge of the field. Women pulled him into a tent. “Who are your people?” he said, with his last bit of strength.

“We are Bealdor.” The women replied.

“Take me to Werhold."
 
Cool stuff mate, looks like things are gonna heat up pretty soon :)
 
OOC: Very disturbing... :eek:

Could you please clarify the rules involving trade and the purchasing/selling of goods? I'm under different assumptions:

1. we can sell directly to Kingdoms, in which case CP means nothing.
2. We can sell to region, which means CP does mean something.
3. It's a mixture of both.
 
OOC: Very disturbing... :eek:

Could you please clarify the rules involving trade and the purchasing/selling of goods? I'm under different assumptions:

1. we can sell directly to Kingdoms, in which case CP means nothing.
2. We can sell to region, which means CP does mean something.
3. It's a mixture of both.

It's #3. You can sell directly to another King (player). In that case, the king makes the decision. That player pays whatever the two of you agree to. In that case, the king gets to keep the resource traded.

You can also sell to the kingdoms within a region. You will them receive the value listed in the region's trade pricing and kingdom receives the benefit of consuming another resource.

Does that help clarify?
 
There are no starting stats for me to do, everything about the Four Claw has already been picked out.

To clarify trade, you can sell to me, the player, or you can sell to the Four Claw. The Four Claw buy stuff at the trade value of the Savage Lands. I might choose to buy at a different level.

For example, I want to buy Saon for 2 ep. If you just sold to the Four Claw, you'd only be able to sell for 1 ep. But, because I personally want Saon, I'm willing to pay a higher price.

I am serious about the Saon.
 
There are no starting stats for me to do, everything about the Four Claw has already been picked out.

To clarify trade, you can sell to me, the player, or you can sell to the Four Claw. The Four Claw buy stuff at the trade value of the Savage Lands. I might choose to buy at a different level.

For example, I want to buy Saon for 2 ep. If you just sold to the Four Claw, you'd only be able to sell for 1 ep. But, because I personally want Saon, I'm willing to pay a higher price.

I am serious about the Saon.

Oops! You're right, my bad.

As for trading, yes, that's correct. If you bought it personally, you get to keep it. If your subjects buy it, it is consumed by them and disappears.

Off to Japan! Farewell!
 
(ooc) apologies once again folks for my lack of involvement. I will be devoting more time to this game as it becomes available.
 
In response to the following message
Spoiler :
To Rhakhim Mizrahi Ruler of the Nimosa
From Warrior King Tyrion of the Teraldur:

Hail Friend, it has come to my attention that your people and mine could greatly benefit from trade between our lands. Primarily we are interested in bringing to your people both honey and building stone, in exchange for whatever goods your traders hope to sell to my people. We would also greatly appreciate it if some of our traders, who hope to make their way to the lands of the Thune in order to sell pottery, tiles and such, could travel through your lands and take ship from the coast to the Thune cities in the east.

Yours in Blood and Friendship,
Tyrion.


To: The Warrior King, Tyron of the Teraldur
From: The Prince Regent of the Nimosa, Rhakim Mizrahi

It always gladdens our court to hear requests of trade and offerings of friendship from our neighbors. Your honey and your building stone would find a place here in our lands, and would be graciously accepted. What we would care to offer would be a supply of our spices.

Your interest in trade through our lands is also granted, on the condition that you provide a modest contribution to provide for the upkeep of the roads themselves. I'm sure something can be arraigned. If however you wish to set merchants up within our city walls, you would be using our city as we have intended, and you may find more buyers to ply your wares.

We await eagerly your reply.
Rhakim Mizrahi.
 
To The Prince Regent of the Nimosa, Rhakim Mizrahi
From Tyrion, Warrior King of Teraldur:

We are pleased that we could come to an agreement. We see no problem with helping pay the upkeep of your roads though we trust this will not be a crippling expense.

In regards to our merchants setting up shop in your city we will leave that to their discretion.

Yours in Blood and Friendship,
Tyrion.
 
I'm back. I'll get back to people who've contacted me over the course of school tomorrow. Also, please make hew diplomacy public as I asked before.
 
From: Thane Darit'h of the Darians, Lord Demarkes' Second in command
To: Five-Arrow of the Four Claw Fulanti

The emissary bowed to Fulanti who stood before him and then patiently awaited Five-Arrow's permission to speak. When motioned to he cleared his throat quickly and unrolled the scroll in his hands. The paper was merely a formality since he could barely read and the message was all memorized.

"The new second in command of the Darian Marches Darit'h wishes the Four Claw tribes much prosperity in trade and many heroic feats from their fearsome warriors. The Fulanti are a proud people and much admired by Thane Darit'h and he begs a boon of the patient Five-Arrow. He seeks permission to journey to you and learn from your vast knowledge as it will benefit him in such undertakings as will be disclosed if he be granted admittance to the noble court of the Fulanti.
Signed,
Thane and Lord's Second, Darit'h
"

The emissary passed the scroll to Five-Arrow's attendant and stood at attention while he awaited a reply.
 
OOC: Alright, I think I'm all caught up. Stats have been updated to include Nimosa and the Darian March's updated stats. The Ropp-Rokina alliance has been removed. All I require now is Dolu stats. Let me know if I've missed anything.
 
To: Our beloved son King Haecadem II of Werhold
From: Queen Jyanna of Hrafn


Truly as the poets say,

Our shield has been broken,
Our armor rent asunder.
Like babes we lie naked,
As a bride on Nuptial Night.


But do not be fooled, let no one deceive you. Let the horns of war sound out and you will find the men of Hrafn there. For how shall I call myself one of the Hrafn if I hold back my right hand? How shall I face my husband Adalbrandr if he knew the armies of Varica marched without us? Therefore give us a sign, whether to advance or to hold and it will be done. And if you look upon us and are surprised at how few we are, know that it is not out of fear, but because our blood has already flowed onto the earth as an ocean. But we ask you one boon, we have heard that one of our men, who won undying fame and fought beside my husband became lost and wandered into your land. Let him be quickly restored to our bosom, both him and the trophies his hand has won, so that we might reward him as his valor deserves. And if he has eaten anything from your table, or put on your clothing to cover his nakedness, or taken of your metal weapons so he have not the shame of appearing before his lord without the iron he was given, tell us and we shall compensate you sevenfold.



To: Hroth V, Emperor of Varica, beloved of Haeka and of me, the least of your servants
From: Your daughter, Jyanna of Varica, Queen of the Hrafn


Most righteous lord, I hear (though I scarcely know whether to believe them, so outlandish are they) that there are kings within your realm who cannot keep order within their own realms. Now I say this not to condemn them, but I speak only as the words reach my ear. Now I fear that rumors will reach the ears of other kings, as they have reached my own, and that they will fear to leave their own realms, lest some violence be done against them. Then the honor of my lord, Adalbrandr, the greatest of your servants, will be harmed, for he will not be mourned as he should. Therefore I ask that you set forth a decree, that any who travel to or from Varica for the funeral of Adalbrandr travel under your protection, whether they be small or great, as well as anything they carry with them. And if anyone raises their hand against them, let them know that they raise it against you. If you do this I know that all your servants will rejoice and both great and small will acclaim your greatness with one voice, just as I, your servant, does both now and forevermore.
 
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