A History of the Covenant Lands [IC Posts]

The nation of Oszeth has a dark history. During the height of the Covenant, the vastness of the Desert Wastes was used as a prison of sorts. Those that broke the Empire’s laws that weren’t fined, jailed, or executed were sent into the Wastes to fend for themselves. Thinking themselves clever, the Empire never thought that the exiles might find a way to survive the perils that awaited them. A great many did perish under the hot sun, never finding water or being baked alive and left as mummies buried beneath the sand. Some even found themselves prey to the natives of the desert, a secretive race of bipedal insects known as the Zitherakk. Those that did survive moved from oasis to oasis, using up its resources before it was swallowed by the dunes.

Gradually, the exiles began to band together in small companies. Utilizing wagons from failed trading convoys or taming Corrathix (large but stupid insects used by the natives) to ride, they moved from place to place, always searching for food and water to survive. It wasn’t until the exile of a certain individual that things began to change for the better. The man wandered the Wastes for months, looking for a place to continue the dark work that got him cast from the upper echelons of the Covenant. One day, he came upon a cave deep in the mountains. The cave was barren, but cool. He was able to rest in peace and collect his thoughts. The man worked his magic within the cave, and soon, a verdant oasis was created within, centered on a bubbling spring of magical water.

The man spent weeks in this cave, shaping it to his will and spreading the reach of his magic. He began to suspect he was not alone in the Wastes, and called out to the leaders of the Exiled, those that drove their bands from place to place to survive the desert. He spoke to them through dreams and mirages and told them of his oasis. He told them to move their people to the mountains, to live without fear of the Zitherakk or the other perils of the Wastes. The leaders were skeptical, not knowing what to think of this new phenomenon. Many thought that the Desert had finally gotten to them, had broken their minds. Those that did not were jealous, and sought to take what the man had created and use it for themselves.

Still, there were those that decide to come to the mountains, to the place marked by bleeding, black stone, and found the cave. The man appeared before the assembled caravans as another mirage, stating that only the Leaders that he had spoken to were permitted to enter his oasis. Only when they had sworn fealty to him would he allow their people to traverse the cavern. Begrudgingly, the leaders agreed, and they left their caravans to eye each other with mistrust. The leaders entered the cave and found, not an oasis, but a paradise. The cavern was spacious and lit with a pale, comforting glow. Soft moss and grasses grew, covering most of the hard stone floor. Trees and other growth filled the area, abundant with plump fruits and herbs, all grown without ever seeing the light of the desert sun. They traveled further into the cave and found the man who had summoned them standing before a pool of water, the glow from it illuminating the cave.

It is not common knowledge as to what was said or decided upon, but all of the leaders swore allegiance to their new king and became the Council of Exiles. They pulled their people together and began to build a city around the Oasis. Vax Kaggath, or the Bleeding City, became the center of life within the Desert Wastes. The Council built a Palace of the mountain’s black stone to protect the entrance of the Oasis, and to hide its bounty from those they deemed unworthy.

The Councilors rule the nation, but defer to the judgement of the Shadow King, as the man is now called. Each Councilor holds dominion of a separate aspect of Oszeth. The military and guard is maintained by Councilor Mordith Pikara, a shrewd-eyed elven man with a mind for tactics and an eye for the finer things. Internal and External Trade is catalogued by Councilor Alsobeth Ravelt, a bony woman with a foul temper. Councilor Erasmuth Krenn, a rotund and surprisingly pleasant man, presides over civic works: maintaining roads, constructing walls, and seeing to the distribution of water and other necessities. Production is kept moving by Councilor Vorkesh, a man with more than a bit of orcish blood in him. He sees over the quarries and Corrathix pens and ensures that they are working at peak efficiency, earning him the secondary title of Vorkesh the Taskmaster. The final seat on the Council is taken by Councilor Salindra Balinar, a secretive and paranoid woman of unknown race who presides over the nation’s intelligence network. Her spies and informants, known as the Shadow’s Web, are sprinkled around the city and the surrounding area, keeping tabs on everyone that resides in or enters the city.

Oszeth, being a kingdom founded by murderers, thieves, and other unsavory characters, has very few written laws. The three laws that everyone follows are written thus:
"Do not interfere with the Shadow King"
"Do not interfere with the Council of Exiles"
"Do not interfere with the Shadow’s Web"
These laws are often interpreted in complex ways, as it is almost impossible for most Oszethites to know the dealings of any of the three’s plans, most notably the Shadow King, as only the Council knows his identity and where he rules from within the Palace walls. Everyone within the city is expected to get along or settle differences on their own. The city’s "nobility" is comprised of those who are clever or strong enough to consistently get their way.

The Geography of Rivellesk

The Rivellese trace their origins to the hardy peoples scattered across the islands of the north. The early migration of a millennia ago had moved settlers outward from the centre of the continent; in every direction they traveled. The more intrepid amongst them went northward, to the very edge of the continent. Some went further, and found dwelling across the various islands we now refer to as the Rivellesk archipelago.

The meeting of tectonic plates where continental shelf abuts with its polar counterpart meant a scattering of over twenty thousand islands across the Zendir Ocean, half of them volcanic in nature. The majority of these islands are thus inhabitable and unreachable, suffering the extremes of both arctic cold, and lava eruptions. These also form a natural barrier, preventing further migration northwards towards the polar circle.

But while temperature and longitude would have determined the furthest islands to have been entirely out of bounds, the nearer ones were not so. The early migrants settled along the entire northern seaboard, in particular around the natural peninsula, a coastline of majestic fjords and cliffs, and made their gradual forays into the hundreds of islands within naval distance. These were still rugged and mountainous, barren and rocky, but were blessed with more reasonable climates, some surprisingly hospitable with their geysers, hot springs and mineral-rich land providing the means for the pioneering nomads to thrive. The five largest islands, Tenczek, Letzhia, Dreji-zil, Ninnorej and Hetvmik became its population centres, due to their proximity to mainland, and their wealth of resources, which the humans soon learnt to harness.

It was natural for the Rivellian peninsula to be the focal point of contact between the islands and mainland. The Rivellese imagined the peninsula as its cartographical centre, from which all its islands radiate, as if they were spokes of a great oceanic wheel. One geological feature made this imagination concrete. The mountain range that ends seawards towards the Zendir Ocean peaks at its highest point where land meets sea, an escarpment of thousands of feet, the waters below futilely crashing and spraying at its base. The Rivellese named the peak, and the subsequent city they built on it, Vodspitz.

It is said that a person standing on the highest tip of Vodspitz, on a clear day, can see all the islands of Rivellesk, right across to the polar icecaps. Vodspitz, or 'Spire of the Ocean', is the northernmost tip of the continent. In later years, when the empire of the Covenant stretched coast to coast, the northerly path of the Old Road took one through, and sometimes over, the mountain range, to end at Vodspitz city itself. In the early years of exploration though, it was the reverse. The migrants had settled comfortably in their islands, but none could look away from the spire. It was as if it was a beacon, a topographical lighthouse which drew their attention, and in some cases, worship as well. It took years to find paths and trails up, generations to establish and take root. It is said the first thing they built was a shrine to the gods of the forbidding north and the gods of the cruel sea. It is said that moment was when the peoples of the islands called themselves the Rivellese.

Hidden from the eyes of the empire the Nation of Dracalis came to be after the death of Firkragg the Scorching Death, a terrible red dragon who ruled over the Kobolds with a strangle hold. The Kobolds suffered greatly under Firkraggs rule, secretly planning rebellion but never having the means to accomplish the task. Until an escaped Kobold Drin Bloodscale returned secretly to the tribe from his travels to the lands of adventurers, bringing with him knowledge of dragons and military tactics; the spark needed to start the rebellion.

The battle last only a few hours but the cost was many, but the dragon was slain by the cliffs of the sea and became the starting point of the new nation and its Capital "Reds End". Not wanting to have his people to be subjugated again, Drin took command of his people and began to militarize his people, appointing generals to look after different aspects of the nation and beginning the construction of the city. Stones where brought from the mountains to build the walls and the bones of Firkragg used to make the Great Dragon Hall the headquarters of high command.

Many years have passed since then and Red Ends stands completed and well manned as the Militarized nation of Dracalis. The people of Dracalis are all trained in combat and tactics as part of the basic curriculum, even if they don't pursue further military advancement. Government is runned by the current "Dragon" Yipp Scarscale, who was appointed by Drin Bloodscale when he retired, and his four Fang Generals. With the city done and the people strong again the Dragon looks to expand Dracalis and open up avenues for further military might.

The Obsidian Empire
Orcs are rotten administrators. As such, they tended to rove in small tribes, reaving and cropping as they go. At some time, they settled into a loose organization, where a knight would provide defence to a village of croppers in exchange for food and other supplies.

Knights are larger orcs, with four arms, and a gently sloped brow. Faster, smarter, and stronger, they are in most ways superior to the smaller two-armed croppers. Not that a cropper is small, far from it. As big as a muscular human, they are intense labourers and are born to serve their larger cousins, in exchange for a guarantee to their freedoms.

While not xenophobic, they do not share power, and even a well armed foreign trader had best heed the primary orc rule, "You kill, you take." Ownership passes to the victor.

Nobody knows from where the Overseer arose. With his collection of Sun Sorcerers, he quickly organized the tribes into a loose state, expanding their overall territory with a series of magically backed attacks. The blend of arcane might and skills as reavers carved out a large portion of the hot jungle as for orcs, and orcs alone.

Building a stone fortress on the last mountain of a chain, Fortress Mountain, the Overseer and his cult of sorcerers rule the Obsidian Empire with none of the disdain for administration as orcs are known for. Instead, by forming a network of guilds, which is really the word orcs use for alliances, and espousing rituals of honour and vendetta, they have turned competing tribes into valued neighbours. Now, the patchwork quilt of quarrelsome tribes has been forged into a latticework of mutual defence pacts hellbent on vengeance.
With their mysterious sorcery and dedicated labour population, the orc nation stands to rise quickly in the Covenant. What stands in their way is their laziness and lack of focus. As such, only the Overseer and his sorcerous cabal keep the orcs united and outward looking. Should anything happen to the central leadership, the orc empire would likely devolve into just another jungle filled with heavily armed and volatile mercenaries.

With the Overseer, however, the orcs singular capacity to accept rule without overthinking any order coupled without a disdain for anything not of the orc, makes them a dangerous faction indeed.

Elven Wars: It is said that the Creator's victory over the Destroyer at the End of Ages changed the world. For the elves, that meant seeing their homeland destroyed into the barren land that is now the eastern desert. Some survivors stayed faithful to Avencia, knowing that with her teachings, their land would eventually heal. Many however, chose to leave and migrate west. And so, during the early days of the empire, 11 elven tribes moved into the Old Lands. Their settling into the human lands brought then into various conflicts and skirmishes that quickly degenerated into full blown wars, threatening the still weakened kingdoms and their fragile alliances. It is said that, in a twist of fate, one of the tribes decided that Avencia abandoned the elves because they continued to bring destruction to the land and disappeared. Seeing their internal division, the realms that would latter form the Covenant, joined forces to face the common invader and slowly managed to gain the upper hand. Surrounded and outnumbered, the tribes eventually lost their strength and retreated to poor and infertile lands. To prevent further invasions, the emerging Covenant built a borderland fortification. This fort was the gate to the covenant lands, and so it became known as the Cavenant's Gate, which became an important trade center of the Empire, under the protection of the Margrave (local governor).

Tribes in the empire: The new elven homeland, being unproductive marshes, forced the tribes to adapt. Claiming that Avencia was dead, killed by the Destroyer himself during the End of Ages, these elves turned to worship the nature spirits. Having little to give the Empire, trade was difficult, even though some minor routes would be used frequently. However, their great military and combat skills and their endurance gained from being raised on the harshest conditions, turned out to be a great asset for the expanding empire. And this was something they could export: mercenaries. These mercenaries were first hired as travel escorts for merchants using the dangerous trade roads between Covenant’s Gate and the tribes. Their loyalty to the contract owner and their magic and archery skills meant that they were noticed by the Margrave, who deployed as security and patrol in dangerous areas. As a reward, the now pacified tribes were integrated into the Covenant, their leaders being promoted as high as councilors to the Margrave himself. After that, their reputation grew so much as to make these mercenaries the most sought-after bodyguards and, even full army regiments were being exported to boost every lord's army at the time the Covenant recalled their men and the empire went silent. To this day, it is still possible to find their mounted archers, blade singers and druids serving under other noble houses.

The rise of the Marches: But change was coming to the tribes. With the weakening of the Covenant, for one reason or another, internal conflict within the marshlands was brewing, and the ambitious new leader chosen by the tribes, known by the title of The Lady of the Eleven, was quick to act. Raising the famous mercenaries regiments, the marshes were fully brought under her control, and she put an end to the trouble before it started. As the lizardfolk and sahuagin refugees moved from the conquered marshes, flooding the gates of the capital, some for the defeated forces formed brigand squads, disrupting the merchant routes. All this destabilised the region and damaged the Margrave position. Offering to help the imperial governor, the elven forces marched into the capital almost unchallenged, to pacify and stabilise the region. Controlling such a central place of the empire’s trade route, staple rights and tolls were immediately put in place, escort mercenaries became almost essential to anyone travelling in the region due to the rising number brigand’s attacks and, with the lack of an efficient imperial army, an extensive protection racket was established to enforce the tenuous claim to the newly formed Eleven Marches Confederation. The Confederation is now using its privileged assess to trade to gain enough wealth to stabilize the unproductive region where it established itself.

The History of Rivellesk

The Rivellian / Slesshelissan Alliance

One of the high points in the history of Rivellesk was the marriage of Baroness Evenna of Hetvmik, to Prince Vodos, third heir to the triton kingdom of Slesshelissa. It captured the imaginations of the country as it was not a politically motivated union nor a marriage of convenience, but one of true love. Before that, the tritons had largely kept to themselves in the depths of the Zendir Ocean, content to let the human kingdoms above rise and decline. The chance meeting of Lodos and his entourage, hunting wayward sahuagin, with the diving explorations of the Hetvmician sea-priests lead by high acolyte Evenna, turned into a fairy tale story of boy and girl, prince and princess. It was recorded that the wedding itself was a mystical wonder. Held on the shores of Hetvmik island, a wondrous globe of airy water enabled both land and ocean dwellers to participate side by side in the ceremony, after which bridge and groom rode off in a whale of majestic size and bearing.

The net result of this of course was the everlasting unity between Rivellesk and Slesshelissa. No treaty was needed, no alliance negotiated by graybeards and politicians. In the ensuing years, the exchanges of cultures and resources saw the island of Hetvmik at the frontier of deep sea exploration, enriched by trade and mining. The phrase ‘slesshed blessed’ came to be a nickname for Hetvmicians who were ‘sea-touched’, ie. displaying some trait or feature or behaviour of triton ancestry. Half-sea elves came to pass. Tritonic magic became commonplace in the everyday lives of the islanders. The Baron himself and subsequent rulers worshipped simultaneously the god of the sea elves and the god of the north.

Recent Events

A week ago, the Jolly Squall, a ship of the line from the capital, from Count Delmark’s own fleet, sunk off the west coast of Hetvmik. While these misfortunes occur from time to time in a seafaring nation, what was curious was the discovery of tritonic magic in the salvage, and no survivors. Although the existence and spread of tritonic magic in Rivellesk is commonplace and should not warrant any undue attention, one of the items recovered was a necklace of water elemental command, a string of rare pearls bearing the insignia of the Slesshelissan queen herself. This artifact was thought to be lost decades ago, in a battle with magma elementals emerging from tectonic shifts. How it came into the possession of the Count, and more interestingly, why it was being transported by cargo ship, remains a mystery. Needless to say, the Slesshelissans are not happy and have cordoned off the shipwreck. And neither is the Baron of Hetvmik, who has sent his own Marczhaal to demand an explanation.

Disaster in the Lower City
Lord Erasthmus Krenn, a short, portly man, stood at the window of his estate, looking off into the distance at the plume of smoke that was climbing into the eastern sky. He had already seen the reports, read over them a few times, and then had a hefty drink. Wiping the sweat from his face, he thought about the ramifications the volcano would have on the families that lived in that portion of the lower city. It sickened him to think of those who may have been harmed by the initial eruption.
He had seen to it already that steps were being taken to evacuate that portion of the city, and to work preventative magics that would steer the smoke and magma from the rest of the citizenry. Many were crying that it was the work of Qhaanh, the great Desert Wyrm, but Erasthmus was much more practical. He knew that the Wastes were dangerous, and that, even here in the mountains, their lives were always one disaster away from being over. No sense in bringing gods into the equation. They had enough to worry about.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but he didn’t have to turn around. "Is it done then? Did they agree to convene?" he calls out to the source
"Yes," he heard. Lady Salindra stalked forward, her steps making little noise, even on the polished marble of Erasthmus’s study. "But they aren’t happy about it." Her voice slithered through his head, like a snake burrowing into the sand. It unnerved him, even frightened him, but he kept it to himself. Weakness was not tolerated in Vax Kaggath, especially from a member of the Council of Exiles.
"Let us be off then," he said, turning to allow her to lead him to the Council chamber.

The Black Palace of Vax Kaggath was a work of art, though the impression it left was not one of wonder, but terror. Standing out over the city, the black marble it was constructed of made the whole thing look like a series of dark, bleeding splinters jutting from the sand. Mainly built with magic, it stood taller than anything around it, except perhaps the mountains that loomed in the sky behind it. The Council Chamber stood in the heart of the Palace, a circular chamber with five thrones orbiting each other. A small alcove was carved into the rock 20 feet above the chamber itself. Said to house a throne for the Shadow King, should he ever decide to take part in the proceedings.
Erasthmus entered behind Salindra, feeling as though he looked clumsy beside her lithe, calculated movements. She strode across the chamber, taking her place in the dark throne directly below the King’s, as she always did. The others turned to look at Erasthmus as he climbed into his seat, a mixture of emotions on their faces.
A bony woman, Lady Alsobeth, was the first to break the silence. "So, Krenn. How do you plan to drain my coffers this time?" she said with disdain. Her body and her voice spoke of youth and beauty, but her time on the council dwarfed that of even Erasthmus’s considerable 30 years.
"Your coffers?" another spoke. His already dark armor was smeared with soot and sand, impressing upon Erasthmus that he had accompanied his troops to help in the disaster. Mordith Pikara had been on the council longer than all but Lady Salindra, and being of elven descent, would likely be in his position by the time they all laid in the earth. "The treasures of Vax Kaggath are not yours to spend on yourself, Alsobeth."
"Figure of speech, Pikara." She waves him off.
Erasthmus takes a deep breath, before speaking. "I believe you are all aware of the situation in the Lower City." He says, looking around to his fellow councilors.
"Aware?!" Shouted a deep voice to his left. The hulking form of Councilor Vorkesh made his throne seem too small for him. Even for those with Orcish blood, he was a large and imposing figure. "I lost a large chunk of my quarry workers to the volcano! I am as aware of the situation as one can get."
Erasthmus nodded solemnly. It was brought to his attention that the eruption had began in one of Vorkesh’s marble quarries. The initial casualties were his, though the smoke and magma that followed also decimated a large portion of the surrounding homes. He also knew that Vorkesh did not care for the lives lost, but for the loss of productivity that the city faced with this development.
"Right." Erasthmus continued, "The volcano beneath the quarry presents a few challenges with the continuation of expansion and development within the city." He did his best not to cringe at the Orc’s exasperated groan. "A number of workers and civilians have been forced to move closer to the city, creating an issue with the amount of space we have available and the cleanliness of the city as a whole."
"What should we care what happens to those dregs?" Alsobeth asks.
"We should care, because the strain may cause unrest within the populace." Erasthmus chides. He hated these meetings. His fellow council members could be so blind to anything that did not bring them more power. "Should the people become too unruly, they could revolt, causing more destruction that might potentially make it into the Inner City. Now may I please get to my point?"
She sniffs indignantly but concedes.
"My plan to combat this has two facets to it. First, we need to deal with the congestion issue faced within the Lower City. I think we need to divert some of our funding into the development of higher quality housing." He holds up a hand to cut off Alsobeth’s rebuttal. "Let’s face it. Allowing the commoners to house themselves in broken down wagons and tents can only get us so far. We can create some simple, multi-leveled houses with cheap sandstone to get a majority off the streets. Not only does this create a more unified city structure, but we can get more people into a smaller space." He looks to Mordith, who is leaning back in his throne, seemingly weighing the pros and cons of the idea.
"If we design the buildings effectively, the streets would be much easier to move troops through if necessary." Erasthmus offers him, to which he nods as if he had already thought of that point. "And, with more people in the city, we have a much higher pool of candidates to conscript," he says, then looks to Vorkesh. "or to bring into the workforce." Vorkesh’s face belies that he is also deep in thought.
"The other facet to my plan is to utilize the force that we have unleashed from below." The councilors snap out of their collective reverie to stare in confusion at Erasthmus. He smiles internally, knowing that he had their full attention now. "While the appearance of volcanic activity was not expected nor intentional, I believe that we can use it to our advantage and launch ourselves into a new era of productivity. Think about it. We have uncovered a large, perpetually burning furnace that requires nothing from us. We know already that the Corrathix’s hide is resistant to heat. We use it already to protect our soldiers."
He pulls a notebook from his coat, producing a few pages with designs and plans scrawled over them. "If we can harness this resistance, even enhance it with some clever enchantments, we could produce a small workforce that can work directly with the molten rock." He passes the pages to a servant standing beside him, who proceeds to go around the room to show each councilor. "As for the quarry. I believe we should convert it into a forge unlike any of us have seen. Let us surround and contain the volcano and use it for our benefit. We can ventilate the gasses it emits and let it escape far from our citizens. We can use the heat to smelt our metal and forge it with magic to capture the heat of the earth within."
Wicked smirks and pleased smiles grow on the faces of each of the councilors, all except Salindra, whose porcelain mask hides her true expression.
"I take it we are in agreement?"

A few hours are spent in discussion as to the exact measure to be taken in both parts of Erasthmus's plan, but the decision remains to go along with it, for now. Erasthmus, feeling rather pleased with himself, begins to leave his chair as the others prepare to leave as well. A quiet cough stops them all in their tracks before they can get far, however. Salindra remains seated patiently, facing them all. "We are not quite finished," she tells them smoothly.
They all bashfully return to their seats, not taking their eyes off the strange masked woman. "There is one more matter that need be discussed," she informs them. "My agents have informed me of a rather unfortunate visitor within the city. A holy man, preaching goodness and law to any who will listen, which are very few." Her annunciation of those two words speaks wonders as to her true feelings on the concepts.
She sits forward slightly in her chair, folding her hands in front of her. "I have instructed a few agents to… deal with the man. The only report that I have gotten back was from an agent who was beaten close to death. It seems our problem is a little more complicated than I first assumed. The man is a Paladin."

The Peoples of Rivellesk

Dwarves

There are no dwarves of Rivellesk.

While the majority of the Rivellese live on the hundreds of habitable islands surrounding the Rivellian peninsula, an increasing number of younger Rivellese have flocked to their capital city, Vodspitz, in anticipation of a different kind of lifestyle, away from sea-based occupations, away from ships, and perhaps most frivolously, away from a diet of fish. To them, Vodspitz represented someplace aspirational, someplace more cosmopolitan (if a city thousands of miles from the Convenant Lands could be said to be cosmopolitan), someplace higher and loftier, both literally and metaphorically. These were singularly human Rivellese, the sea elves naturally had no interest in mainland.

It is at Vodspitz that these young migrants might meet to only dwarves in the whole of Rivellesk. Vodspitz sits on the northernmost tip of the Vodulian mountain range, home to the dwarven kingdom of Kharas-Rad, where the great mithril hall of King Gruendarr is said to lie diametrically opposite of Vodspitz along its north-south axis. The treaty that continues till this day defined everything above sea level to belong to Rivellesk, and everything under the mountain to Kharas-Rad. Except for mutual embassies to house the exchange of envoys, no Rivellese ventures below, no Kharaz dwarf above.

There are dwarves in Rivellesk, but no dwarves of Rivellesk.


The Geography of Rivellesk

The Cleft

The tectonic plates that formed the spires of the Vodulian mountain range, on the highest of which sits Vodspitz, also gave rise to another spectacular geographical feature in the peninsula. Huge gorges and ravines bisect the mountains, some thousands of feet deep, disappearing below into the dwarven kingdom of Kharas-Rad, the most dramatic of which is simply and aptly named the Klyvtahv, or the Cleft, a gorge of mind-blogging length and depth stretching across the mountain spine. The dwarves say Hammerfist needed someplace to rest his axe when he shattered the civilised world in the End of Ages, and that when he picked it up, the blade left a scar so deep it nearly cleaved the continent in two. The pragmatic Rivellese concocted no such legend, but simply found longer routes around the Cleft to travel from their capital to the flatlands in the south.

Recent Events

"Are you absolutely certain of this?" Count Delmark pondered over the contents of the latest missive.
"Yes my lord." The messenger confirmed.
"Don’t give him grief Delmark, it’s impossible to be mistaken about an entire dwarven citadel suspended by clockwork and steam, rising from the bowels of the Cleft. Made of stone no less. Why I’d say it’s nothing short of scientific genius!" Thelfstan, younger brother of the Baron of Ninnorej island, and current advisor to the count of Vodspitz, with far too much time on his hands than he knew what to do with, chided. Bored with the trivialities of island governance, he enjoyed the courtly activities of the capital city far more. And also the roast mountain goat.
"But but, then what should we do?"
"Send a garrison to watch the northeastern trade route. Set up patrols along the border and coast. Then move some of our smelting facilities there. If the dwarves make contact, and they will, welcome them to jointly develop the roads. While we try to find out what their intentions are."

Post 1: The New Council
(Confederation's Council)

With her new powers, the lady of the Eleven makes changes to the local council, establishing the tribes as a discrete majority within the local government. As her army marches in the streets of Covenant’s Gate, it is clear that a new Commander of the Guard is needed and the previous is swiftly replaced by a loyal mercenary veteran. Conferring with the Margrave, she additionally creates the new position of Appraiser of Arts, given to a dwarven sympathizer, ensuring that the council looks balanced to the outside, but 4 of the six sits are under the influence of the tribes. The Lady of the Eleven further convinces the Margrave that the current instability in the region is an urgent matter and the Margrave summons the new council for an emergency meeting. On the table are the many problems plaguing the new Confederacy: the influx of refugees, the lack of food from these unfertile lands and the increased brigand activity. All but the new Commander of the Guard attend the meeting as he is preparing to welcome the return of four important mercenary Companies, including the famous Winter’s Ballad Company, returning with news of Barak of House Bremartin defection to join the undead armies of Macara (which turned out to be in violation of the contract terms, releasing the Company from his service).

The Guardian of the Library and the Overseer of the Roads, the original tribal archdruids on the council, explain the current situation: The new influx of refugees puts a great pressure on the already limited food supplies. With no food or shelter, these refugees are being recruited by the brigand groups who are getting more and more confident. Not only they attack those that travel the Imperial Road, reports of one of these groups has taken control, and dared to claim, one of the northern regions, closer to Widowvale’s border: a strategic place to stage further attacks on the caravan’s traveling through the Covenant’s Gate.

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Post 2: A plan for stability
Event: Willowvale approaches the Marches, offering to grant access to their trading network, but what is the price, and is it too high?
(Confederation's Council)

The lands are infertile and the recent instability means that the food stocks are dangerously low. A stable source of food must be secured, but the Guardian of the Library and the Mouth of the Land can’t agree on the approach: the Guardian wants to send his spies to the nearby realms to carefully determine which fertile land is more… exposed, while the Mouth suggests a more peaceful approach, sending a diplomatic mission to the neighbours to secure the needed supplies through the opening of trade routes. The Overseer of the Road intervenes "We have heard reports of that the troubles at the Imperial Road extend as far as Zahad. We must set up new checkpoints to secure key locations along the Imperial Road and boost our patrols to reinforced new and existing trade routes". He concludes that new trade routes and more patrols would promote the mercenary business and maybe the lizardfolk and sahuagin could be put to use for the service of the Eleven Marches, instead of being recruited by criminals.

It was consensual that the brigands must be disbanded by any means necessary. As the Lady of the Eleven, joining as head of the council, summarised "We must bring these brigands to accept the Confederation’s authority with words, coin or sword!", so the Overseer’s suggestion was generally welcomed. The work drafting the orders started immediately:
1) The Wind’s Whisper Company would be dispatched to deal with those brigands that dared claiming part of the Marches’ lands to serve as an example and encourage the others to accept either words or coins.
2) Diplomatic missions were to be sent to Southcove and Northcove ports to establish potential trade treaties and military alliance.
3) A defensive alliance would be proposed to Unilith, who also stands alone in the Old Lands

The discussion is interrupted by a dry, repetitive knock at the doors. "Honorable councilors, would I have permission to interrupt?" one of the guards asks, still behind the closed door. "Please, come in" replies the Margrave, who has been mediating the discussion. "A messenger from Willowvale is her to discuss an important matter with the Margrave himself." All except one of the councilors look at the Margrave waiting for his answer, the Guardian, a key player in the "tribal uprising" looks at the Lady of the Eleven of gauge her reaction. "Bring this messenger in" the Margrave says with authority. Willowvale’s emissary slowly walks in with two of his bodyguards, accessing the Confederation’s council composition, quickly confirming the rumours that the Lady of the Eleven has "walked" into the Coveant's Gate. He raises his hand, showing a sealed scroll "I have a proposition from his honor, the Duke of Willowvale" he moves closer to the Margrave and bows respectfully "It is for your eyes only".

---

Post 3 The Secret Deal
Event: One of the Eleven's premiere mercenary bands is found slaughtered
(Confederation's Council)

The room stays silent even after the Margrave has left the room with the emissary. "We have placed the increased revenue at the guilds’ disposal. These investments will improve industry and manufacturing, further improving the wealth gained the trading activity" the Master of the Guilds breaks the silence, relaying the success of the local investments. Working with the Appraiser of arts, they have raised enough capital from the merchants and their trade activity to promote investments on the city's infrastructures, remodelling the extensive network of markets to make them more efficient and… taxable. The various guilds also welcomed the lower interest loans on their investments. "The boost in production and wealth gained from trade will gives us a trading edge to secure all the supplies we need, including a stable source of food" the Master points out, allying with both the Overseer’s and the Mouth’s previous ideas.

The meeting comes to an abrupt end as the Commander of the Guard burst into the room "The Winter’s Ballad Company did not arrive yet. I’ve sent scouts to meet with them, and…" the Commander struggles to grasp the reality. One of the most veteran company was found slaughtered in the Southcove’s lands. Few survivors made it to the border where the scouts found them. They have been ambushed, but the descriptions were so confusing that it looks like the survivors were in different battles. Arrows flew from the sky, or maybe some dark force followed them, or was it a strange disease? The only thing that seemed consistent was that the Imperial army was present one way or another. This immediately convinced the Guardian to order his network of spies, mages and investigators to join the Commander’s effort to find out how the Winter’s Ballad Company could so easily be defeated and secretly infiltrate the diplomatic mission to Southcove to find what they know about the attack (and gain valuable information for retaliation is needed!).

(Margrave)
Meanwhile, in the Margrave’s meeting chambers, Willowvale’s emissary explains the current situation. Unlike what the Margrave expected, the brigands at their border were not the problem. It seems like their merchant ships are being targeted and they need help securing their maritime routes. Rumors suggest there is increased triton activity on the North sea, and they suspect Windrise’s involvement, possibly through their alliances with Terminus or Southcove. The Margrave considers these words. It is true that the Old Lands have been under pressure after the Imperial army was recalled by the emperor. Since then all attempts to make a decision at the Imperial senate and court have been fruitless, bringing the Empire to a standstill in an already dire situation. "We have hear of your great success stabilising your March my lord. We only ask for some military support until this situation is solved. In return, we will be willing to put our trade routes and mercantile fleet for your use." Even though this sounded like a great deal, with the access to the maritime trade potentially proving fundamental, the request would require Companies of mercenaries to be sent until Willowvale’s situation is solved, weakening the Confederacy. "We are expecting the return of some Companies as we speak. I’m sure we can spare some to help a friend in need" the Margrave says as he closes the deal, using his imperial authority to decide without the council’s approval. He wasn’t aware of the recent loss of the Winter’s Ballad Company and was convinced this deal would open up the trade routes that the councillors were hoping for…

The Lair of the Scorching Death was bare when the first of the Rangers from Dracalis arrived. Nothing but the cold Stone and bones of Firkraggs meals lay inside the Dragons Stone fortress, the hoards of treasure that the tales fortold nowhere to be seen. The Rangers returned to Red's End giving their report to the Dragon Council, much to the disappointment of Dragon Yipp Scarscale. Discussion of what to do with Firkragg's Lair commences with Master of Arms Kri Bloodscale wanting to establish an Outpost to watch over the lands surrounding the mountain. Master of research Clin Darkscale on the other hand believes that the cave could reveal more into dragon biology which could help greatly with the dragon wyrmling that they found running amuck in the troop holes of the shopping district. The Dragon favored General Clin and tasked her with appointing an research and excavation team to research on Dragons and further inspect the Lair of Firkragg.

The Research team escorted by the Rangers made its way to the Mountain lair and began their research into Dragons. Much was learned about the habitual living of the Red Dragon, some fangs and scales were recovered and even a few bones of creatures not native to the area were found. The greatest discovery came deeper into the cave in a cavern vast enough to house a dragon with a ceiling so high the darkness swallows it. Having an innate ability to see in the dark the research team didn’t notice the riches of the cave until a fire was made for the evening meal, the walls the fire was closest to shined brightly with thick veins spidering along the walls. The reason the Rangers never found Firkraggs hoard was because the mountain was his hoard.

The Discover was short lived for the Research Team as the alarm is raised at the entrance and the sound of battle could be heard. Scurgescale a tribe of Golden scales kobolds have slowly overcome there fear of the Dragons cave with the Research teams arrival being the tipping point for the tribe. Wanting the riches of the cave Scurgescale attack in Mass decimating the Ranger squad and most of the Research team. The surviving members make their way down the mountain with haste to Dracalis to deliver the report of the incident. The report from the research team was not taken lightly and the war horns of Dracalis were sounded, summoning forth the massive force of the Dracalis Military. They marched forth at first light, it would be a few days travel to make it to the mountain.

Scurgescale having had sometime and expecting the return of the Dracalians, had built themselves makeshift fortifications at the mouth of the cave, claiming the gold for their own. But the tribal Scurgescale did not take into account the difference between themselves and the more advance Dracalis and their Superior numbers; with Scurgescale war band numbering in the hundreds Dracalis brought thousands to decend on the cave. The battle was over before long and no remorse was given to the defeated. General Kri Bloodscale got her request to build an outpost on the mountain and construction begins to start up a mine in the cave. Dracalis has secured it’s gold and scouting parts have been sent out to find the location of Scurgescale village. From atop the mountain outpost the Dragon looks out across the lands, analyzing and contemplating the future expansion of Dracalis.