Consequences
After a conference that lasted for several days to decide how to attempt to retake Silakoufstat from the Iberian forces Trohtîn Wiolant met privately with Lord Othar to do something Lord Othar never expected, apologize sincerely. Lord Othar walked in not sure what to expect and then saw the Trohtîn looking for once in his life as old as he was. Lord Othar had remembered the Trohtîn as a man who seemed full of life and far younger than he was, no longer was that the case. The man before Othar was a shell of his former self and it was obvious why. The Trohtîn motioned for Othar to come and sit with him and so he did.
Son, I want to apologize to you and through you to the remaining Sidona Bastarna. I was simply too focused on Nerwia and the Aorsi to see what Iberia was planning, but looking back now
The Trohtîn dropped his head slightly for a moment and the sorrow only a ruler, who had failed, even just once, could know. Then he continued before Othar could speak. To show the commitment of my family to all of the Bastarna my son and heir Ewald shall marry your sister if you will allow it.
Othar was stunned. He knew that Ewald would have to wed soon, everyone knew that he really should have already been wed, but Othar had certainly not expected this. He searched his feelings and thoughts and discovered that he understood the full reasoning of the Trohtîn. It was simple really, the Sidona Bastarna might never be strong again, but they were still Bastarna and here the Trohtîn was offering them the chance to join with his own Bastarna. Othar knew some would rather marry and join the Atmona Bastarna since they blamed the Trohtîn for their losses. Othar did not blame him. And so the answer was inevitable once the train of thought had completed itself in all of a few seconds.
Yes Trohtîn, on behalf of my family and the Sidona Bastarna I say that no apology is necessary. Just look around us and everywhere there are wars and conflicts. I feel it was only natural to ignore the one region where there was no conflict as far as we could tell. Lord Othar paused and felt distinctly odd giving away the hand of his older sister when he was not even 14, but a mans responsibilities had fallen on his shoulders and he would do his father and brothers proud. On the matter of my sister I accept the betrothal to your son and heir Ewald.
The Trohtîn smiled and sent a servant to fetch his heir, while Othar did the same for his sister. The time until their arrival was spent discussing what would happen to the Sidona Bastarna as a result of this terrible conflict. The discussion was halted once the now betrothed pair had arrived. Ewald took it as if it was expected, which Othar thought it probably was as Ewald was his fathers most trusted advisor and surely discussed this beforehand. Joscelin was quiet for a moment as she took in the sudden change in her life and then smiled politely and grasped the hand Ewald had offered her as soon as the announcement had been made. Othar could only hope Ewald would make her happy, but he knew in the end that didnt matter. This had to be done to secure the future of Walhia and Othar would do all in his limited power to do so.
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The Retaliation Begins
The plans had been made, the warriors had been told, and the march to battle was on. Ewald rode along with Othar and Gernot, who Othar had adopted into his family as a reward for his loyal service to the late Lord Raimond, as they led their men to try and retake Silakoufstat. They marched through the light rain as the fall now had a firm grip on the land. This would probably be the last battle of the season regardless of the outcome since winter was almost upon them.
The warriors marched on singing bawdy songs to entertain themselves through the long walk to where many of them would not come back. They all knew it and accepted it. For everyone went when it was their time and it was not a thing to fear, it simply was what it was and the gods would care for them in the afterlife.
The morning of the assault had arrived and the Walhian army sat in the tree line near Silakoufstat waiting for the call to attack. Men stood checking that their shields were ready, weapons were sharp, watching the Iberian scum, and some stood on the edge of reason either due to anticipation or fear. The call went out and the men burst from the trees.
The Iberians readied their lines and rebuffed the initial assault. The Walhian forces met them several more times but the Iberians held firm. Eventually the Walhians marched out of bowshot and set up camp for the night. The Iberians had also settled in for the evening. Both sides staring at the other in the dark imagining the victories they would achieve in the morning.
The losses on both sides were light as this was simply the initial feelers from both sides as they examined each other and their leaders tried to see what the weak points in formations, leadership, or position were. Everyone on both sides knew the next day losses would be far heavier.
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Messengers Arrive
The war council sat discussing what to do when the combat resumes and deciding who would lead what when a sentry returned with a rider who was almost half dead with exhaustion.
All of the council stopped what they were saying or doing and looked over at the arrival and waited for him to recover enough to tell them what had happened now. The tale was as surprising as it was unbelievable.
My lords, the messenger paused for another moment to compose himself. I am a scout keeping watch on the Nerwian border when refugees began coming into Walhia. He paused a moment as if waiting for questions but none came. They came in large numbers, many families, and possibly whole villages. They all said the same thing, Nerwia is lost. His audience gasped and spilled drink in surprise.
So then the Rebel won as we hoped? asked Sir Kuno, heir of the Yazyga. Several others sighed in apparent relief. Their relief was short lived.
No, milord. Neither claimant to the throne won the civil war. They are both dead and their lands taken by a tribe calling themselves the Goths. Silence was eerily absolute. Not even the animals and insects made noise on this still evening as if the whole world held its very breath.
Then the Trohtîn stood and faced the gathered council. We must withdraw for the moment while we figure out these Goths and what they wish. We can only hope they wish us no ill, but with the results in Nerwia, I very much doubt it. He glanced over the assembled war council and continued once he was convinced of the determination in their eyes. We face a threat to the very existence of Walhia like we have never known nor expected. A war with Iberia was always possible, but now we face a war with Iberia and this new threat the Goths. We shall have to pull back and discover what we may do and make sure these tales of Nerwias loss are true.
That next morning the Iberians manned their posts and waited for the charge. At first they thought the Walhians had moved back into the tree line to protect against archers being sent forward, but once the scouts returned and confirmed the Walhians had marched off in the night.
The soldiers were stunned. They knew they would defeat the Walhians (as all soldiers believe they will win if the army is large enough) but this sudden retreat was a mystery. Some began to cheer, but most simply tried to figure out why they had backed off. The answer would not come for a long time, as winter was setting in.
I'll forward you a PM shortly, containing some of the half-witted "diplomacy" I conducted yesterday in players' stead.
