JDD had never met Rory, and even in his travels had not visited Denver. The news was puzzling, and made him angry. He decided to ride to Vanir immediately to back up Grandmaster. Hopefully the Denvers would relinquish their claim and things would be as they had been before.
The Vanir Confederation- A Federal Monarchy
- Thread starter Grandmaster
- Start date
Prince Padma vows to help protect the young Prince Grandmaster from these foolish Denverites. Never mind the "illegitimacy" of his birth. Grandmaster is clearly Shaitan's son, and was named by him as his heir in his will. As to these foolish Americans trying to "steal" some of Vanir, well, just let them try to take it!
Grandmaster
Deity
*The brash young Prince was now talking furiously with his advisors behind closed doors. His fury seemed uncontrollable; many a man had the soldier seperated from his head for less than this.*
GM: Who do these American dogs think they are?! They march into Vanir and tell me that THEY are the true owners of this place? Americans! Bloody Americans demanding the reins of the greatest of the Fanatikan Houses. I would sooner burn in hell than see some Yankee fool sitting in the Marillion's throneroom. If they want Vanir so badly, they can send the goddamned American Army and take it. My troops will send 'em all to hell! If I am the last man standing, I will keep fighting until either I am cut to ribbons or the whole of the American invaders are dead.
Councillor 1: What are you suggesting, then, m'lord?
GM: I am suggesting that we refuse their extortionate demands and prepare for war. If they are so determined to undermine my authority, then let them come and see how loyal my troops are to me. If I must I will send the Vanirian to forces to Denver and burn it to the ground!
Councillor 2: But what of Anja? Is she not the daughter of Shaitan?
GM: If it comes to war, then I will see that she is not harmed. If we are forced to kill off the whole of House Denver, then she will be angry, yes, but with time all bitterness dissolves. I only hope it will not come to that. We are done here. Oh, and one more thing.... if that redneck porker of a diplomat ever shows his face within the borders of Vanir again, have him imprisoned and exectued. You can send a letter to Denver warning of this, if you'd like.
*With this, the new Prince got up and left the room. He would not tolerate any challenge to his authority.*
GM: Who do these American dogs think they are?! They march into Vanir and tell me that THEY are the true owners of this place? Americans! Bloody Americans demanding the reins of the greatest of the Fanatikan Houses. I would sooner burn in hell than see some Yankee fool sitting in the Marillion's throneroom. If they want Vanir so badly, they can send the goddamned American Army and take it. My troops will send 'em all to hell! If I am the last man standing, I will keep fighting until either I am cut to ribbons or the whole of the American invaders are dead.
Councillor 1: What are you suggesting, then, m'lord?
GM: I am suggesting that we refuse their extortionate demands and prepare for war. If they are so determined to undermine my authority, then let them come and see how loyal my troops are to me. If I must I will send the Vanirian to forces to Denver and burn it to the ground!
Councillor 2: But what of Anja? Is she not the daughter of Shaitan?
GM: If it comes to war, then I will see that she is not harmed. If we are forced to kill off the whole of House Denver, then she will be angry, yes, but with time all bitterness dissolves. I only hope it will not come to that. We are done here. Oh, and one more thing.... if that redneck porker of a diplomat ever shows his face within the borders of Vanir again, have him imprisoned and exectued. You can send a letter to Denver warning of this, if you'd like.
*With this, the new Prince got up and left the room. He would not tolerate any challenge to his authority.*
Shaitan
der Besucher
*As Grandmaster prepares for a fitful night's rest there is a knock on the door. He stomps over to the door and pulls it open so hard that it knocks back against the wall with a horrific bang.*
Grandmaster: What in blazes is it?! Hasn't there been enough foul news today that my very rest must be interrupted for more of it?!
*With a shock Grandmaster realizes that the visitor he has railed at is none other than his half sister, the Lady Marie. He quickly gathers control of himself and ushers her in with hasty apologies. There is a laugh in her voice as she excuses his angry actions.*
Marie: I see you have yet to start working on your princely demeanor. Understandable under the circumstances I suppose. Still (*her voice becomes deadly serious*), it is something you WILL have to work on. Not only for appearances. It is important that your emotions do not betray you to your enemies.
*Marie walks over to the sitting area and takes a seat. She motions towards the chilled wine and Grandmaster fills two glasses. He is intrigued by this confident woman and curious what she wishes to speak about.*
Marie: I was...confused...at the wake and did not take the proper chance to congratulate you on your ascension. And also to welcome you to the family. I knew even before the will was read. Unlike the rest of my family and the others present, I had last seen my father in life when he was little older than you are now. The likeness is quite strong.
*She pauses to drink her wine, sampling it professionally and then taking a healthy swig.*
Marie: Quite a good vintage, that. I've had experience as a vintner during my exile. One of my first tasks here will be to improve your cellars. My father was a brew afficionado and has left you with generally subpar selections. But we'll discuss such household concerns later. There are items of import that I must tell you of.
There are two other challenges to your ascension. Rory has the strongest claim as the eldest legitimate male issue. There is also Harold, son of our sister Ruth. I doubt that he will prove too much of a problem. Vanir is too far away for the father to expect to spread and hold authority and Ruth would make his life a living hell if he tried. The last problem is another illegitimate son. Father never knew about him but I found him in my travels. He is a rather promising cavalry officer in your own command. If he remains ignorant he will be no threat but as I found him it is prudent to believe that others have as well. He wears father's stamp as strongly as you do.
Rory is too young to rule but old enough to want to. The Margrave is the push there as he controls every aspect of young Rory's life. The lad is bright and talented but warped by the tight reigns that are upon him. You may need to consider removing him in a more permanent manner. I know that this will smack against your honor but there are many things that get compromised when you play the game of houses. Father knew this very well - Vanir did not grow so great without solving the occasional problem. Should you decide that this is the best course I will handle the details. In my travels I have made many contacts.
I must return to my chambers. It is not seemly for a lady to be alone with you without an escort, even if we are half siblings. When you wish to talk simply summon me. I am here to serve.
*Marie finishes her glass and takes her leave. Grandmaster slumps into a chair and finishes his own wine in a single long swallow. He sits back thinking "what in the world just happened here?"*
Grandmaster: What in blazes is it?! Hasn't there been enough foul news today that my very rest must be interrupted for more of it?!
*With a shock Grandmaster realizes that the visitor he has railed at is none other than his half sister, the Lady Marie. He quickly gathers control of himself and ushers her in with hasty apologies. There is a laugh in her voice as she excuses his angry actions.*
Marie: I see you have yet to start working on your princely demeanor. Understandable under the circumstances I suppose. Still (*her voice becomes deadly serious*), it is something you WILL have to work on. Not only for appearances. It is important that your emotions do not betray you to your enemies.
*Marie walks over to the sitting area and takes a seat. She motions towards the chilled wine and Grandmaster fills two glasses. He is intrigued by this confident woman and curious what she wishes to speak about.*
Marie: I was...confused...at the wake and did not take the proper chance to congratulate you on your ascension. And also to welcome you to the family. I knew even before the will was read. Unlike the rest of my family and the others present, I had last seen my father in life when he was little older than you are now. The likeness is quite strong.
*She pauses to drink her wine, sampling it professionally and then taking a healthy swig.*
Marie: Quite a good vintage, that. I've had experience as a vintner during my exile. One of my first tasks here will be to improve your cellars. My father was a brew afficionado and has left you with generally subpar selections. But we'll discuss such household concerns later. There are items of import that I must tell you of.
There are two other challenges to your ascension. Rory has the strongest claim as the eldest legitimate male issue. There is also Harold, son of our sister Ruth. I doubt that he will prove too much of a problem. Vanir is too far away for the father to expect to spread and hold authority and Ruth would make his life a living hell if he tried. The last problem is another illegitimate son. Father never knew about him but I found him in my travels. He is a rather promising cavalry officer in your own command. If he remains ignorant he will be no threat but as I found him it is prudent to believe that others have as well. He wears father's stamp as strongly as you do.
Rory is too young to rule but old enough to want to. The Margrave is the push there as he controls every aspect of young Rory's life. The lad is bright and talented but warped by the tight reigns that are upon him. You may need to consider removing him in a more permanent manner. I know that this will smack against your honor but there are many things that get compromised when you play the game of houses. Father knew this very well - Vanir did not grow so great without solving the occasional problem. Should you decide that this is the best course I will handle the details. In my travels I have made many contacts.
I must return to my chambers. It is not seemly for a lady to be alone with you without an escort, even if we are half siblings. When you wish to talk simply summon me. I am here to serve.
*Marie finishes her glass and takes her leave. Grandmaster slumps into a chair and finishes his own wine in a single long swallow. He sits back thinking "what in the world just happened here?"*
Grandmaster
Deity
*The Prince continues to ponder these threats to his sovereignty.*
GM: First an American, then one of my own officers? This will not stand. If this new challenger rises against me, I will have him shot as a traitor. It's that simple. My troops are loyal to me, they will carry out the order. And what right has he over me? If he too is indeed an illegitimate son, than why has he any greater a claim than I do?
GM: First an American, then one of my own officers? This will not stand. If this new challenger rises against me, I will have him shot as a traitor. It's that simple. My troops are loyal to me, they will carry out the order. And what right has he over me? If he too is indeed an illegitimate son, than why has he any greater a claim than I do?
naervod
My current user title
Unaware of the situation at hand in Vanir, the soon-to-be Archduke (OOC: Padma, can you please get around to processing, you said you would do it yesterday) sat at his table enjoying a fine lunch. A messenger brought him news of traitors among the officers of Vanir. He mounted his steed and rode to the Marillion to serve his lord in case of a coup among the younger members of the House of Vanir. He carried with him his trusty rifle and supplies, nothing else. This could be a long week...
Octavian X
is not a pipe.
Octavain decides to leaves the Games at the Augusta via caravel to check on the situation at the Marillion. He had heard of the Denverites claims to the Marillion's throne, and had prepared a full legal document that was sure to prove Grandmaster's claim.
This voyage was a short, routine one. A small bay seperated the two great palaces, and they were visible from each other.
When he reached the midpoint of his voyage, he had noticed something someone he had not seen before. The boat was Octavian's private one, and was usually manned by the same sailors. He was odd because of his facial features; he didn't look Fanatikan. Figuring he was a replacement for a sick worker, Octavian remained unbothered.
The strange sailor disappeared below deck, while Octavian went from the rear of the ship to the front. So many times had he visited the Marillion, as a caslte, palace, and even bigger palace. He began to reminisce of the happy times he had spent with Shaitan there...
This blissful memory was cut short by a sickening cry in English, "All hail Devner!" Before there was any time to respond, a loud explostion ripped through the blissful sea air. Octavian was knocked to the ground.
When he got up, the rear half of the ship had been blown up, and fires were rapidly burning up the rest. Quickly grabbing a plank of wood he hoped could float, he jumped from the ship and watched it sink to the bottom of the sea...
This voyage was a short, routine one. A small bay seperated the two great palaces, and they were visible from each other.
When he reached the midpoint of his voyage, he had noticed something someone he had not seen before. The boat was Octavian's private one, and was usually manned by the same sailors. He was odd because of his facial features; he didn't look Fanatikan. Figuring he was a replacement for a sick worker, Octavian remained unbothered.
The strange sailor disappeared below deck, while Octavian went from the rear of the ship to the front. So many times had he visited the Marillion, as a caslte, palace, and even bigger palace. He began to reminisce of the happy times he had spent with Shaitan there...
This blissful memory was cut short by a sickening cry in English, "All hail Devner!" Before there was any time to respond, a loud explostion ripped through the blissful sea air. Octavian was knocked to the ground.
When he got up, the rear half of the ship had been blown up, and fires were rapidly burning up the rest. Quickly grabbing a plank of wood he hoped could float, he jumped from the ship and watched it sink to the bottom of the sea...
Shaitan
der Besucher
The young cavalry officer walked down his picket line, giving a word of encouragement here, a friendly correction or bit of advice there. Captain Snow commanded one of the few intact cavalry regiments left in Vanir. The Indians had been crushed and driven en masse into the sea but most of the knight corps has dissolved upon the death of the old Prince. Now that the Indians had been dealt with, it was those same knights that were now the target of the new cavalry. Not all of the departing soldiers had gone quietly back to their families and farms. Many had formed into small bands of mercenaries (which was bad enough) and others had taken up the way of the outlaw.
One of these outlaw bands was preying on the caravans now heading regularly from Gunningheim to Riga and Satsuma, part of the massive rebuilding effort. The cavalry had set its picket to catch these outlaws when they attacked the caravan that the regiment was shadowing. They had been in place for several hours, longer than Snow had though would be required. His travel down the picket reassured his men and the general restlessness that had been coming over them passed.
After completing his tour of the picket he returned to his command station and surveyed the surrounding plains and tundra. It was simply too perfect a spot for the raiders to pass up. The caravan sat fat and vulnerable at the juncture of two hill chains, in a lee and protected from the northerly winds. Comfortable camping yes, but easily trapped by a force of experienced horse raiders closing from front and rear. Snow knew in his bones that the outlaws would not pass up this opportunity.
He was not disappointed. Within an hour of his return to the command, the first picket arrived with news of horses approaching from the West. A few minutes more and one arrived from the East as well. The numbers were unclear due to the setting of the sun and massive glare from the icy tundra but it was happening. He quickly issued orders and the pickets advanced, continually sending back refining reports. Behind them came the bulk of the cavalry regiment, some 300 horsemen armed with the finest Valhall longrifles and a smattering of the new carbines and repeaters.
The rogue knights came into range quickly and the picket stopped and was absorbed by the regiment. Snow raised his pistol and fired into the air. At the signal, 300 horses broke into a charge and stormed down on the confused and surprised knights. The knights regrouped quickly and turned themselves to charge against their attackers. At this, the cavalry came to a dead stop. 300 guns raised as one and a deafening explosion rocked the hills as white hot death rained down on the rogue horsemen. The effects on their charge was devastating. The first several ranks of horses went down and the ranks following them piled into and over them. Perhaps a hundred had died from the volley and half again as much from the collisions and falls that followed.
The knights regrouped and began to withdraw but by this time the cavalrymen had reloaded their weapons. The second volley was not as devastating as the first as their targets were not so tightly packed but it was still effective. Another fifty or so outlaws were felled. The rifles were returned to their holsters and the aborted charge of the cavalry resumed. The fleeing knights were weighed down by their arms and armor and the protections worn on their horses. The cavalry had no such encumbrance. They did not wear armor since armor was no protection against the weapons they used. They ran down the hundred or so knights that fled. Many were butchered if they stood and fought but the majority had the sense to surrender. When all was said and done, Snow's regiment had lost a dozen men. They had killed close to 300 and captured just over 100 more outlaws.
There are not many trees in that are of the tundra and plains of North Vanir. There were barely enough to hang all of the prisoners. A few months ago, Snow would have balked at the task but since then he had seen the attrocities that outlaws like these performed at a whim. He was now quite satisfied in doing his duty as an officer in the Vanir cavalry and give these scum their legal deserts.
He detached 20 cavalry to continue escort of the caravan and another 40 to bring the captured horses to the stockades in Gunningheim. The ones who could stand a rifle blast over their heads would become cavalry mounts. The others would become scouts horses or draft animals, or be sold as stock. When the regiment next collected their pay they would enjoy a fat bonus from the bounty on that prize.
By midmorning the cleanup from the previous evening's battle was complete. The hanged men were cut down and placed in a pile with those that had been felled in the battle itself. The trees they had died on became the pyre for the mass immolation of the dead. Standard procedure would have been to let the corpses stay in the trees as a warning to other outlaws but this was a well traveled road and Snow did not want to terrify the honest traffickers. In any case, this story would very quickly be in the ear of every rogue and vandal from Dapperdan to Bavaria.
Snow smiled at a job well done.
One of these outlaw bands was preying on the caravans now heading regularly from Gunningheim to Riga and Satsuma, part of the massive rebuilding effort. The cavalry had set its picket to catch these outlaws when they attacked the caravan that the regiment was shadowing. They had been in place for several hours, longer than Snow had though would be required. His travel down the picket reassured his men and the general restlessness that had been coming over them passed.
After completing his tour of the picket he returned to his command station and surveyed the surrounding plains and tundra. It was simply too perfect a spot for the raiders to pass up. The caravan sat fat and vulnerable at the juncture of two hill chains, in a lee and protected from the northerly winds. Comfortable camping yes, but easily trapped by a force of experienced horse raiders closing from front and rear. Snow knew in his bones that the outlaws would not pass up this opportunity.
He was not disappointed. Within an hour of his return to the command, the first picket arrived with news of horses approaching from the West. A few minutes more and one arrived from the East as well. The numbers were unclear due to the setting of the sun and massive glare from the icy tundra but it was happening. He quickly issued orders and the pickets advanced, continually sending back refining reports. Behind them came the bulk of the cavalry regiment, some 300 horsemen armed with the finest Valhall longrifles and a smattering of the new carbines and repeaters.
The rogue knights came into range quickly and the picket stopped and was absorbed by the regiment. Snow raised his pistol and fired into the air. At the signal, 300 horses broke into a charge and stormed down on the confused and surprised knights. The knights regrouped quickly and turned themselves to charge against their attackers. At this, the cavalry came to a dead stop. 300 guns raised as one and a deafening explosion rocked the hills as white hot death rained down on the rogue horsemen. The effects on their charge was devastating. The first several ranks of horses went down and the ranks following them piled into and over them. Perhaps a hundred had died from the volley and half again as much from the collisions and falls that followed.
The knights regrouped and began to withdraw but by this time the cavalrymen had reloaded their weapons. The second volley was not as devastating as the first as their targets were not so tightly packed but it was still effective. Another fifty or so outlaws were felled. The rifles were returned to their holsters and the aborted charge of the cavalry resumed. The fleeing knights were weighed down by their arms and armor and the protections worn on their horses. The cavalry had no such encumbrance. They did not wear armor since armor was no protection against the weapons they used. They ran down the hundred or so knights that fled. Many were butchered if they stood and fought but the majority had the sense to surrender. When all was said and done, Snow's regiment had lost a dozen men. They had killed close to 300 and captured just over 100 more outlaws.
There are not many trees in that are of the tundra and plains of North Vanir. There were barely enough to hang all of the prisoners. A few months ago, Snow would have balked at the task but since then he had seen the attrocities that outlaws like these performed at a whim. He was now quite satisfied in doing his duty as an officer in the Vanir cavalry and give these scum their legal deserts.
He detached 20 cavalry to continue escort of the caravan and another 40 to bring the captured horses to the stockades in Gunningheim. The ones who could stand a rifle blast over their heads would become cavalry mounts. The others would become scouts horses or draft animals, or be sold as stock. When the regiment next collected their pay they would enjoy a fat bonus from the bounty on that prize.
By midmorning the cleanup from the previous evening's battle was complete. The hanged men were cut down and placed in a pile with those that had been felled in the battle itself. The trees they had died on became the pyre for the mass immolation of the dead. Standard procedure would have been to let the corpses stay in the trees as a warning to other outlaws but this was a well traveled road and Snow did not want to terrify the honest traffickers. In any case, this story would very quickly be in the ear of every rogue and vandal from Dapperdan to Bavaria.
Snow smiled at a job well done.
Shaitan
der Besucher
*Rudy and Grandmaster are in Grandmaster's private study, going over the paperwork that keeps the Princedom functioning and having a strategy meeting. As usual, Rudy's preparation of the paperwork makes that portion of the meeting very short. Rudy then gives Grandmaster a brief state of the nation and items of note that affect Vanir's relationship with her neighbors, Fanatika at large and foreign nations.*
Rudy: ...so, our fur sales are going very well. We were able to divert most of the cache during the Indian occupation and the foresters came through relatively unscathed. The new rifles coming out of Valhalla are being snatched up faster than we can produce them. We have to watch there. We have to balance between equipping our own cavalry and our Fanatikan tithe. We may need to pull back from foreign sales for now, at least until we get fully ramped up with the repeater assemblies. We may also soon receive the long ago promised assistance to fully settle the north. The governor's office has stop saying "not now" and started saying "yes, soon".
Grandmaster: Excellent. Thank you for your analysis. I believe that concludes our meeting but by the look on your face I believe you have something else to tell me? Something that's not as easy to recite as land profits and fur sales?
Rudy: Er...yes, my prince. I spoke with the Lady Marie. She's quite an...intense...woman. She is quite concerned with young Rory in Denver and that Snow fellow in the cavalry. Between the desertions following your father's death, losses in reclaiming our territory from the Indians and the troops we have committed to the Fanatikan forces our main strength is dangerously depleted. Denver has been building up for quite some time. Our best defense against an offensive from the High North is a counter by fast cavalry. That cavalry has been through the fires of hell with none other than your half brother Shaitan Snow.
*Grandmaster interrupts.*
Grandmaster: Shaitan? His given name is Shaitan? I had no idea.
Rudy: Yes. Your father was quite a popular monarch and there are hundreds of boy children named in his honor. That's not really a surprise, especially since he is a Snow.
*It is the custom in Vanir to give the surname of "Snow" to male children who are illegitimate. Female children in the same situation are given the surname "Star".*
Rudy: It could end up causing problems though. Look at his story. He was born to nothing. He fought his way into the army and then into the knights. He overcame his surname to become commander of his own troop at a remarkably young age. When the news of Prince Shaitan's death came he kept his troop together and used them to keep the bulk of an entire brigade intact. He hunted down deserters and himself tried and hung three officers who were attempting to subordinate their troops. He took command of the brigade and was a decisive force in routing the Indians. His men were the first to shed their armor and train with the new rifles - our first cavalry. He's a bloody hero of Vanir and, though it pains me to say it, rightfully so.
What happens when the new coins circulate with your stamp and he looks in his purse one day and sees his own face looking back at him? He could discover his parentage earlier than that. Thanks to that new printing press there are drawings of you out and about. Your face is becoming known in a way that previous nobles' never were. It's entirely likely that somebody will comment on how much he looks like Prince Grandmaster. He's bright, he'll put it together.
Grandmaster: Okay, so he's popular and a known hero of Vanir, especially with the mounted units. Probably more popular than a foreign born Prince that until recently was sworn to Lancre. He still has no better claim than I do to the throne! Yes he obviously has ambition. He'd have to in order to accomplish what he has. But everything about him smacks of dedication and loyaly. I'm simply not comfortable using Marie's "solution" when there may be no problem at all.
Rudy: But there is a problem, my Prince. I received reports of a Denver delegation entering Vanir. They did not reach Valhalla. From other reports of "bandit activity" I believe that delegation actually headed towards Gunningheim. I believe they are trying to find Snow. The only reason I can think that they would do this would be to try to subvert him and his men. If they can convince him to back Rory we have nothing in the area to counter Denver annexing a goodly portion of the High North. As you said, he's ambitious. Rory would be the first "family" in his life. If they play to that ambition, could he be subverted? Can you take that chance?
Grandmaster: So what do you advise then? Do I have Marie take care of him? Recall him to the Marillion?
Rudy: It is difficult to say. If he pledges to Rory we could lose all of Vanir. If he remains loyal and Denver moves, he is absolutely the man we need in place to push him back. Either choice has risks and I am afraid that you must make that decision as it is your neck...
*Rudy is interrupted by a pounding on the door. Grandmaster yells out permission to enter and a guardsmen veritably runs across the stones and dives to one knee in his haste.*
Guardsman: My Prince, it is the Lord Octavian. He was fished out of the Seabrake. His craft was destroyed by treachery. American treachery! Himself and a handful of crew was all that survived. The cirugeons are at him right now in the infirmary.
*Without another word Grandmaster rushes to the infirmary.*
Rudy: ...so, our fur sales are going very well. We were able to divert most of the cache during the Indian occupation and the foresters came through relatively unscathed. The new rifles coming out of Valhalla are being snatched up faster than we can produce them. We have to watch there. We have to balance between equipping our own cavalry and our Fanatikan tithe. We may need to pull back from foreign sales for now, at least until we get fully ramped up with the repeater assemblies. We may also soon receive the long ago promised assistance to fully settle the north. The governor's office has stop saying "not now" and started saying "yes, soon".
Grandmaster: Excellent. Thank you for your analysis. I believe that concludes our meeting but by the look on your face I believe you have something else to tell me? Something that's not as easy to recite as land profits and fur sales?
Rudy: Er...yes, my prince. I spoke with the Lady Marie. She's quite an...intense...woman. She is quite concerned with young Rory in Denver and that Snow fellow in the cavalry. Between the desertions following your father's death, losses in reclaiming our territory from the Indians and the troops we have committed to the Fanatikan forces our main strength is dangerously depleted. Denver has been building up for quite some time. Our best defense against an offensive from the High North is a counter by fast cavalry. That cavalry has been through the fires of hell with none other than your half brother Shaitan Snow.
*Grandmaster interrupts.*
Grandmaster: Shaitan? His given name is Shaitan? I had no idea.
Rudy: Yes. Your father was quite a popular monarch and there are hundreds of boy children named in his honor. That's not really a surprise, especially since he is a Snow.
*It is the custom in Vanir to give the surname of "Snow" to male children who are illegitimate. Female children in the same situation are given the surname "Star".*
Rudy: It could end up causing problems though. Look at his story. He was born to nothing. He fought his way into the army and then into the knights. He overcame his surname to become commander of his own troop at a remarkably young age. When the news of Prince Shaitan's death came he kept his troop together and used them to keep the bulk of an entire brigade intact. He hunted down deserters and himself tried and hung three officers who were attempting to subordinate their troops. He took command of the brigade and was a decisive force in routing the Indians. His men were the first to shed their armor and train with the new rifles - our first cavalry. He's a bloody hero of Vanir and, though it pains me to say it, rightfully so.
What happens when the new coins circulate with your stamp and he looks in his purse one day and sees his own face looking back at him? He could discover his parentage earlier than that. Thanks to that new printing press there are drawings of you out and about. Your face is becoming known in a way that previous nobles' never were. It's entirely likely that somebody will comment on how much he looks like Prince Grandmaster. He's bright, he'll put it together.
Grandmaster: Okay, so he's popular and a known hero of Vanir, especially with the mounted units. Probably more popular than a foreign born Prince that until recently was sworn to Lancre. He still has no better claim than I do to the throne! Yes he obviously has ambition. He'd have to in order to accomplish what he has. But everything about him smacks of dedication and loyaly. I'm simply not comfortable using Marie's "solution" when there may be no problem at all.
Rudy: But there is a problem, my Prince. I received reports of a Denver delegation entering Vanir. They did not reach Valhalla. From other reports of "bandit activity" I believe that delegation actually headed towards Gunningheim. I believe they are trying to find Snow. The only reason I can think that they would do this would be to try to subvert him and his men. If they can convince him to back Rory we have nothing in the area to counter Denver annexing a goodly portion of the High North. As you said, he's ambitious. Rory would be the first "family" in his life. If they play to that ambition, could he be subverted? Can you take that chance?
Grandmaster: So what do you advise then? Do I have Marie take care of him? Recall him to the Marillion?
Rudy: It is difficult to say. If he pledges to Rory we could lose all of Vanir. If he remains loyal and Denver moves, he is absolutely the man we need in place to push him back. Either choice has risks and I am afraid that you must make that decision as it is your neck...
*Rudy is interrupted by a pounding on the door. Grandmaster yells out permission to enter and a guardsmen veritably runs across the stones and dives to one knee in his haste.*
Guardsman: My Prince, it is the Lord Octavian. He was fished out of the Seabrake. His craft was destroyed by treachery. American treachery! Himself and a handful of crew was all that survived. The cirugeons are at him right now in the infirmary.
*Without another word Grandmaster rushes to the infirmary.*
Grandmaster
Deity
*The Prince rushes to the infirmary to check on his old friend, Octavian of Dougnutia.*
GM: Doctor, how is he? Will he be alright?
Doctor: Aye, he'll be fine m'lord. A bit of a shock from that blast, and quite a chill from the water, but otherwise he's fine. GOt lucky, he did.
GM: Good, good. Any word on who perpetrated this cowardly act?
Assisstant: Sire, it was those accursed Americans if what he tells us is true.
GM: I thought as much. But I never knew of Americans stooping so low to the level of suicide bombing. Persians, Babylonians, Egyptians, and Japanese, yes, but not the Americans. If it truly was those Denverite dogs who committed this attrocity, I will see that they pay for. I will dispatch of the Head of Denver and of that usurper Rory by my own sword if they infact ordered this attack. Rudy?
Rudy: Yes, m'lord?
GM: Make ready the cavalry in the Far North. Regardless of what Captain Snow has in his head about the Vanirian throne, he is the man to do the job should we need to attack Denver.
Rudy: Right away, sire.
*The Castellan of the Marillion leaves to send a letter to Snow's Cavalry, while Grandmaster continues to discuss Octavian's health with the doctors.*
GM: Doctor, how is he? Will he be alright?
Doctor: Aye, he'll be fine m'lord. A bit of a shock from that blast, and quite a chill from the water, but otherwise he's fine. GOt lucky, he did.
GM: Good, good. Any word on who perpetrated this cowardly act?
Assisstant: Sire, it was those accursed Americans if what he tells us is true.
GM: I thought as much. But I never knew of Americans stooping so low to the level of suicide bombing. Persians, Babylonians, Egyptians, and Japanese, yes, but not the Americans. If it truly was those Denverite dogs who committed this attrocity, I will see that they pay for. I will dispatch of the Head of Denver and of that usurper Rory by my own sword if they infact ordered this attack. Rudy?
Rudy: Yes, m'lord?
GM: Make ready the cavalry in the Far North. Regardless of what Captain Snow has in his head about the Vanirian throne, he is the man to do the job should we need to attack Denver.
Rudy: Right away, sire.
*The Castellan of the Marillion leaves to send a letter to Snow's Cavalry, while Grandmaster continues to discuss Octavian's health with the doctors.*
Octavian X
is not a pipe.
Slowly, Octavian woke up. His vision remained blury, he couldn't hear correctly, and he still felt tired and cold. As his vision returned, he found himself in a bed. After taking a look around, he realized he was at the Marillion.
Sound began to return to him. He heard the familiar sound of Grandmaster's voice, along with another. They both reentered the room, and noticed he was awake.
"Octavian!" began Grandmaster.
"So, I made it..."
Sound began to return to him. He heard the familiar sound of Grandmaster's voice, along with another. They both reentered the room, and noticed he was awake.
"Octavian!" began Grandmaster.
"So, I made it..."
Shaitan
der Besucher
*The interview was not going well. Smythe had discarded his foppish attire in Denver. It would not have impressed the military man he now faced. The effect needed here was much different from the irreverant neglect presented to the Pretender. The folk at the Marillion would likely not even connect the massive hulk of a soldier with the foppish and obese dandy that had invaded their presence short days ago. Smythe radiated command and confidence and carried his pistol and sabre like a man well used to them. Still, the interview was not going well.*
Smythe: You would not even need to commit fully. Simply taking your troops on southerly maneuvers would suffice. We could not then guarantee as much land for you but you would still be justly rewarded for supporting the rightful heir.
Snow: As I told you, land means nothing. Land is a means to acquire power but power is and must be the goal. Whatever pittance of land you would bestow upon me would simply tie me to Rory's apron. No, I'll not support your venture.
Smythe: (raising voice) How can you be so damned dedicated to that man? Don't you believe the evidence of your own eyes? Look at the bloody coin! Look at the newsline I brought! The two of you are peas in a pod. There can be no doubt that you are a son of Shaitan the first. You're as much an heir of the old prince as the Pretender is. He is no more entitled to that throne than you are yourself!
*Smythe catches a quick gleam in Snow's eye and smiles craftily.*
Smythe: Ah, that's it then, isn't it? The crown or naught? I should have known not to bother with these pittance offers. Very well. I am authorized to offer you a more partisan offer. You and Rory will declare for each other and join to topple the Pretender. When your cavalry and Denver's troopers have taken control, Vanir will be split. Rory will take the High North from Dapperdan to Gunningheim and Naerva north. You will have the entire south. What say you?
Snow: That is quite a more attractive bargain, Mister Smythe. I'll entertain it. My adjutant will guide you back to your tent.
Smythe: Thank you for your time, sir. I trust you will make the decision that is best for both you and your nephew.
*Although Snow had wished to hear more from Smythe, he had received a signal from his adjutant. A messenger was waiting for him with an urgent parcel. When Smythe had been led from the clearing the messenger rushed forward. He saluted sharply and handed his satchel to the Captain. Snow opened it, breaking the intricately twisted wires that sealed it. His eyes quickly scanned it and his expression became very grave. He read it again, slower and more thoroughly. When he was done he called for his adjutant and the corporal of the guard.*
Snow: Break camp. We ride within the hour.
Adjutant: Which is it, Snow? Do we follow a Captain or a Prince?
Snow: Just a man, old friend. A man who has just learned that not only does he actually have a family but that it is as close to disfunctional as it's possible to be. Denver has already moved, attacking Lord Octavian on his way to the Marillion. The plot failed and Octavian survived and was able to name the attackers. His move from the High North would coincide with this. He's likely already moving south and probably has Naerva in seige.
Adjutant: You haven't answered my question, Shai. Are we heros or revolutionaries?
Snow: Heros, for now. We will break the force against Naerva and then we will attack Denver. These orders don't quite give me that authority so I may need your skills at contrivance to make a plausible chain of events. Oh, yes. Don't forget to truss up that Smythe character and his envoy. Send them to Gunningheim in chains. They talk to nobody. Gags all around.
*The corporal of the guard heads off to arrange the imprisoning of Smythe and the American troopers. Snow's adjutant speaks to him with the composure of long time companions.*
Adjutant: No regrets? It's more than plausible that it could work. We are the only effective force in half of Vanir.
*Captain Snow sighs deeply.*
Snow: Yes, it would work. I've already planned it out. The cavalry retreating from the steadily advancing and numerically superior troopers...taking outrider positions on Valhalla and Marillion...falling on the unsuspecting defenders at the right moment...
Yes, it would indeed work. But could you live with yourself after treachery so great?
Adjutant: It's not treachery for me, Snow. I swore my oath to you when the army broke at the old prince's death. You're all that kept us together. Me and these men, we're following you.
Snow: Then I suppose it is a good thing that I couldn't live with it. I may be ambitious but the ability to commit such treachery is a trait that I thankfully lack. I'll not take power by taking fellow Vanirians in the rear and in any case I'm not convinced that Prince Grandmaster is truly my enemy, especially considering the source of that information.
Now, get those men moving! I've got a nephew to meet.
Smythe: You would not even need to commit fully. Simply taking your troops on southerly maneuvers would suffice. We could not then guarantee as much land for you but you would still be justly rewarded for supporting the rightful heir.
Snow: As I told you, land means nothing. Land is a means to acquire power but power is and must be the goal. Whatever pittance of land you would bestow upon me would simply tie me to Rory's apron. No, I'll not support your venture.
Smythe: (raising voice) How can you be so damned dedicated to that man? Don't you believe the evidence of your own eyes? Look at the bloody coin! Look at the newsline I brought! The two of you are peas in a pod. There can be no doubt that you are a son of Shaitan the first. You're as much an heir of the old prince as the Pretender is. He is no more entitled to that throne than you are yourself!
*Smythe catches a quick gleam in Snow's eye and smiles craftily.*
Smythe: Ah, that's it then, isn't it? The crown or naught? I should have known not to bother with these pittance offers. Very well. I am authorized to offer you a more partisan offer. You and Rory will declare for each other and join to topple the Pretender. When your cavalry and Denver's troopers have taken control, Vanir will be split. Rory will take the High North from Dapperdan to Gunningheim and Naerva north. You will have the entire south. What say you?
Snow: That is quite a more attractive bargain, Mister Smythe. I'll entertain it. My adjutant will guide you back to your tent.
Smythe: Thank you for your time, sir. I trust you will make the decision that is best for both you and your nephew.
*Although Snow had wished to hear more from Smythe, he had received a signal from his adjutant. A messenger was waiting for him with an urgent parcel. When Smythe had been led from the clearing the messenger rushed forward. He saluted sharply and handed his satchel to the Captain. Snow opened it, breaking the intricately twisted wires that sealed it. His eyes quickly scanned it and his expression became very grave. He read it again, slower and more thoroughly. When he was done he called for his adjutant and the corporal of the guard.*
Snow: Break camp. We ride within the hour.
Adjutant: Which is it, Snow? Do we follow a Captain or a Prince?
Snow: Just a man, old friend. A man who has just learned that not only does he actually have a family but that it is as close to disfunctional as it's possible to be. Denver has already moved, attacking Lord Octavian on his way to the Marillion. The plot failed and Octavian survived and was able to name the attackers. His move from the High North would coincide with this. He's likely already moving south and probably has Naerva in seige.
Adjutant: You haven't answered my question, Shai. Are we heros or revolutionaries?
Snow: Heros, for now. We will break the force against Naerva and then we will attack Denver. These orders don't quite give me that authority so I may need your skills at contrivance to make a plausible chain of events. Oh, yes. Don't forget to truss up that Smythe character and his envoy. Send them to Gunningheim in chains. They talk to nobody. Gags all around.
*The corporal of the guard heads off to arrange the imprisoning of Smythe and the American troopers. Snow's adjutant speaks to him with the composure of long time companions.*
Adjutant: No regrets? It's more than plausible that it could work. We are the only effective force in half of Vanir.
*Captain Snow sighs deeply.*
Snow: Yes, it would work. I've already planned it out. The cavalry retreating from the steadily advancing and numerically superior troopers...taking outrider positions on Valhalla and Marillion...falling on the unsuspecting defenders at the right moment...
Yes, it would indeed work. But could you live with yourself after treachery so great?
Adjutant: It's not treachery for me, Snow. I swore my oath to you when the army broke at the old prince's death. You're all that kept us together. Me and these men, we're following you.
Snow: Then I suppose it is a good thing that I couldn't live with it. I may be ambitious but the ability to commit such treachery is a trait that I thankfully lack. I'll not take power by taking fellow Vanirians in the rear and in any case I'm not convinced that Prince Grandmaster is truly my enemy, especially considering the source of that information.
Now, get those men moving! I've got a nephew to meet.
Shaitan
der Besucher
Correction
If anybody read post #52 between when it was posted and now, there's been a slight change at the end. I was a bit sleepy when I originally wrote it and made a goof that would have spoiled the story line. It's all fixed now.
If anybody read post #52 between when it was posted and now, there's been a slight change at the end. I was a bit sleepy when I originally wrote it and made a goof that would have spoiled the story line. It's all fixed now.
Grandmaster
Deity
*Grandmaster continues to discuss with Rudy what should be done about these two new threats to the crown.*
GM: Rudy, I wonder something. What would happen if we were to perhaps to hedge our bets a bit with this Snow fellow. Perhaps recall him to the Marillion and make him a Lord of Vanir? At least a Knight, perhaps even a Baron or Count?
Rudy: We could, m'lord, but it's no guarantee against trwchery from his side. Plus, it would cost us a fair amount of gold and a damned good cavalry captain.
GM: So I realize.... I am going to retire to my chambers now and think it all over. Oh, and Rudy, one more thing that might help. Have my face removed from the coin presses and replaced by that of our founder, Shaitan. Maybe Snow hasn't noticed the likeness yet.
Rudy: Right away, sire.
GM: Rudy, I wonder something. What would happen if we were to perhaps to hedge our bets a bit with this Snow fellow. Perhaps recall him to the Marillion and make him a Lord of Vanir? At least a Knight, perhaps even a Baron or Count?
Rudy: We could, m'lord, but it's no guarantee against trwchery from his side. Plus, it would cost us a fair amount of gold and a damned good cavalry captain.
GM: So I realize.... I am going to retire to my chambers now and think it all over. Oh, and Rudy, one more thing that might help. Have my face removed from the coin presses and replaced by that of our founder, Shaitan. Maybe Snow hasn't noticed the likeness yet.
Rudy: Right away, sire.
Shaitan
der Besucher
*Snow's brigade closed on Naerva. Four of the five regiments were present, over 450 highly trained cavalry. Scouts had started to return with news of the American deployment. Snow had been partially correct; the Americans were moving against Naerva but he had given them too much credit for coordination. The invading troops were still approaching Naerva. The American vanguard, knights and some cavalry, were in the process of cutting off the city and some of the fleeing citizens had been captured, others slain. This presented a problem. The brigade's preplanning had assumed that the Americans would be entrenched and vulnerable to fast strikes in their exposed rear echelons. Troops on the move would be much more difficult to engage in this rocky, snowy terrain.
Snow called a conference with his regimental commanders and his adjutant. After some heated discussion it was decided that the 1st and 3rd would move west and circle around to the American train. The 4th and 9th would attack the main body with fast strikes to pin them down. The 51st, the command regiment, would take the van. The 1st, 3rd and 51st would then join back up with the 4th and 9th to prosecute strong strikes against the main body.
Like all plans, it did not long survive contact with the enemy. Like most of Snow's plans, it worked frighteningly well anyway. The 51st smashed the van with unexpected ease. The majority of the American horsemen were not actually knights or cavalry. They were hobilars and unable to fight on horseback. The Naerva militia, relieved of the threat to their rear, launched against the approaching main body. This caused great confusion in the attacks by the 4th and 9th and the cavalry were forced back to wait for better numbers. When Snow and the 51st rejoined them the Americans had entrenched in the bountiful cover. Only one attack was made and that had heavier than acceptable losses. Shortly thereafter the 1st and 3rd arrived in the American force's rear and successfully enfiladed them. It was carnage as 250 cavalry charged through the American formation. With their lines disrupted, the intruders were not able to concentrate fire as Snow led the other 3 regiments down on them. The Americans broke and routed.
The 4th regiment was dangerously depleted and they were detached to assist the Naerva militia in handling captured soldiers and hunting down fleeing Americans. The 1st, 3rd, 9th and 51st immediately turned north to Denver.*
Snow called a conference with his regimental commanders and his adjutant. After some heated discussion it was decided that the 1st and 3rd would move west and circle around to the American train. The 4th and 9th would attack the main body with fast strikes to pin them down. The 51st, the command regiment, would take the van. The 1st, 3rd and 51st would then join back up with the 4th and 9th to prosecute strong strikes against the main body.
Like all plans, it did not long survive contact with the enemy. Like most of Snow's plans, it worked frighteningly well anyway. The 51st smashed the van with unexpected ease. The majority of the American horsemen were not actually knights or cavalry. They were hobilars and unable to fight on horseback. The Naerva militia, relieved of the threat to their rear, launched against the approaching main body. This caused great confusion in the attacks by the 4th and 9th and the cavalry were forced back to wait for better numbers. When Snow and the 51st rejoined them the Americans had entrenched in the bountiful cover. Only one attack was made and that had heavier than acceptable losses. Shortly thereafter the 1st and 3rd arrived in the American force's rear and successfully enfiladed them. It was carnage as 250 cavalry charged through the American formation. With their lines disrupted, the intruders were not able to concentrate fire as Snow led the other 3 regiments down on them. The Americans broke and routed.
The 4th regiment was dangerously depleted and they were detached to assist the Naerva militia in handling captured soldiers and hunting down fleeing Americans. The 1st, 3rd, 9th and 51st immediately turned north to Denver.*
Shaitan
der Besucher
*Rudy approaches Prince Grandmaster with a messenger's satchel in his hand.*
Rudy: Sad news, my lord. American troops approach Naerva. This message got out just before their van circled the city. By now they will be under siege or taken.
Grandmaster: (Groan) And Snow? Any word on his movements?
Rudy: None, but that is to be expected. He was performing outlaw supression actions and could be anywhere between Dapperdan and Gunningheim. He'll get the orders we sent when his scouts pick up his regular discourses but that could be days from now. The only way he could even know of the current situation is if one of the messengers somehow stumbled into one of his pickets.
Grandmaster: How long can Naerva hold with what she has now?
Rudy: Nördmauer will hold for months but they can likely supress the city in a half day or less.
Grandmaster: And then they will be heading here. Very well, we will give battle at Valhalla. Raise the garrisons, evacuate the city and the Marillion of any non-essentials. Send them to Kuhkaff for now.
Rudy: My lord, initial estimates in this missive put the American troop count at 1500 to 2000 troopers. We can raise perhaps 500, a bit more if we pull the garrison at Küstenberg. You'll be pinned and trapped for sure.
Grandmaster: We won't be trapped, Rudy. We will meet them north of the city. Send riders to Klein Vanir, Manitou and Lancre. Request aid to stop the American encroachment. Stress that it's a foreign invasion, not a family dispute. Perhaps they will rally to us in time.
Rudy: Grandmaster, that is a brave and honorable plan but it is the plan of a general, not a prince.
Grandmaster: That it is, but I've been a general far longer than a prince. Send the messages, Rudy. I go now to raise the troops.
*Rudy watches as Grandmaster crosses the room and out the door. Rudy is amazed that in those few steps the worry on the prince's face is replaced with a cocky smile and look of confidence. The leader of Vanir disappears to be replaced by the leader of men.*
Rudy (softly): Spirits, protect us. And our Prince.
Rudy: Sad news, my lord. American troops approach Naerva. This message got out just before their van circled the city. By now they will be under siege or taken.
Grandmaster: (Groan) And Snow? Any word on his movements?
Rudy: None, but that is to be expected. He was performing outlaw supression actions and could be anywhere between Dapperdan and Gunningheim. He'll get the orders we sent when his scouts pick up his regular discourses but that could be days from now. The only way he could even know of the current situation is if one of the messengers somehow stumbled into one of his pickets.
Grandmaster: How long can Naerva hold with what she has now?
Rudy: Nördmauer will hold for months but they can likely supress the city in a half day or less.
Grandmaster: And then they will be heading here. Very well, we will give battle at Valhalla. Raise the garrisons, evacuate the city and the Marillion of any non-essentials. Send them to Kuhkaff for now.
Rudy: My lord, initial estimates in this missive put the American troop count at 1500 to 2000 troopers. We can raise perhaps 500, a bit more if we pull the garrison at Küstenberg. You'll be pinned and trapped for sure.
Grandmaster: We won't be trapped, Rudy. We will meet them north of the city. Send riders to Klein Vanir, Manitou and Lancre. Request aid to stop the American encroachment. Stress that it's a foreign invasion, not a family dispute. Perhaps they will rally to us in time.
Rudy: Grandmaster, that is a brave and honorable plan but it is the plan of a general, not a prince.
Grandmaster: That it is, but I've been a general far longer than a prince. Send the messages, Rudy. I go now to raise the troops.
*Rudy watches as Grandmaster crosses the room and out the door. Rudy is amazed that in those few steps the worry on the prince's face is replaced with a cocky smile and look of confidence. The leader of Vanir disappears to be replaced by the leader of men.*
Rudy (softly): Spirits, protect us. And our Prince.
GenMarshall
High Elven ISB Capt & Ghost Agent
Interesting Story 
. I wonder when I would be mentioned .
BTW, I am still loyal to Vanir.
. I wonder when I would be mentioned .BTW, I am still loyal to Vanir
.
Shaitan
der Besucher
It's sort a 'pass the story' thing. Feel free to jump in.Originally posted by CivGeneral
Interesting Story
BTW, I am still loyal to Vanir
You haven't been mentioned because you were off in Lancre, job hunting.
GenMarshall
High Elven ISB Capt & Ghost Agent
Originally posted by Shaitan
It's sort a 'pass the story' thing. Feel free to jump in.
You haven't been mentioned because you were off in Lancre, job hunting.
Oh, almost like the "Tales of the GBC" story
. Well I can be the Military Advisor in Vanir
, I was wondering If it would be possible to be what Padma was a "Living Bridge" Thingy like an Vanir Ambasidor to Lancre .
naervod
My current user title
The Knights of Numenor were a fierce bunch, 500 strong. Upon the arrival of meesengers at Shimonseki and New Falcon's Nest, they rode with newly equipped rifles to Kukhaff. There, they met the Archduke of Vanir. The Archduke had changed since the last time they saw him, almost a year ago. He was now taller and more muscular. We was a silent and claoked figure mounted on an huge black steed, branded with the arms of Vanir. He gave ashout and soon a regiment of Klein Vanir was on the way to Naerva, to fight the dastardly Americans, trying to shed Fanatikan blood. Little did the Americans know that their own blood would be shed.
Similar threads
