Darkness, a Conquest Roleplay
The Great Alliance has fallen in ruin. The world of Kolnur has descended into chaos with the annihilation of the order it has known for so many years. The Alliance was formed 200 years ago by the great powers of the age, and has ensured a time of relative peace of prosperity. But the peace made men weak, soft, and unobservant. Few were watching for the return of darkness, and those few who were watching were unable to rouse the Alliance from its slumber in time to defend itself from the tides of darkness that washed over the land, obliterating all that stood before it till none remained.
Now the Alliance is in shambles, and the few remaining nations of the world, in the forgotten corners of the land, must somehow hold their borders against both greedy neighbours, and the Great Shadow that slew the greatest alliance this world has ever known...
OOC: This is it. Now is the time for you to sweep aside all those oppose you and engrave your name forever into the stone of legend. Or will you stand shoulder to shoulder with your allies and hold back the Shadow with the power of your faith and raise a new Alliance from the ashes of the old.
Kerin-Curan - 1
King Gandogar Killisson was sat in his throne, made of black marble with white veins and intricate patterns of inlaid gold. It was taller than him by some five feet, and there was a ruby the size of a dragon egg sunken into the stone, and it appeared to be lit from within. The throne room itself was a feat of dwarven construction, with a roof fifty feet high, held up by twenty fluted pillars each fifteen paces around. The walls were lit by diamonds, the size of fists, which had been infused with ancient magics which had been lost to the race, embedded into the walls themselves. Each diamond alone was worth more than many people hope to earn in a lifetime of hard toil. The hundred that lit the Hall were priceless. Guards lined the wall, still as statues and each armoured with full suits of silver armour, precious materials decorating the plates, and each armed with a two-handed hammer. The Hall was the pride of Kazel, capital of Kerin-Curan, and no-one but the dwarves could have accomplished such architecture.
Before him, at the foot of the steps which made up his low dais, stood three Guild-Lords, all old dwarves with grey growing into their long, intricately plaited beards. The king was obviously listening intently when his oldest son approached the throne and stood at attention slightly behind and to the right. Prince Farin’s eyes narrowed slightly as he understood what they were asking of his father.
“- is desperately needed, Your Majesty. We’ve made it so far without a central place of learning for our Engineers, a repository of knowledge, but there is a growing feeling amongst the Mechanists Guild that they need one, and I agree.” The two other Guild Lords, of lesser repute than the speaker, mumbled their assent, but quietened at a look from the imperious king. The speaker himself was Guild Lord Snorri Snorrisson, descended from the dwarf who had designed the first Ironclads. His family was a legend. Very powerful, and a lot of influence. It was a ploy, and one well played. To refuse a dwarf of such high honour would be a snub against his ancestor. Even Gandogar, a living legend, would be unable to do that and escape without reprise from some quarters.
“I understand your wishes, Guild Lord, but such an expense is an additional burden on the Treasury. I am sure you are aware of the happenings in wider Kolnur, and I have responsibilities to the entire population of Kerin-Curan, not to mention the countless refugees we are currently housing. There are many groups lobbying for Royal gold right now, although, granted, few are willing to match my investment as you are.
“My generals and admirals tell me of the need to expand our fleet and armies, my stewards tell me that we need to purchase and stockpile foods from the mainlands. I ask you, why should I listen to you over them?” The king’s pure white beard, a mark of his great age which had earned him the name ‘The Elder’, moved as he spoke and caused the priceless gems - rubies which shone with fires like the forges of Kazel themselves, emeralds which gleamed like the grasses on which the humans tended their herds of horses and ponies, and sapphires that glimmered like the sea at noon - and rings woven into it to shimmer brilliantly. The movement also revealed another priceless artefact - around the king's neck was a ruby similar to the one on his throne, albeit smaller. Not many knew it, but the two were linked with workings lost in the mists of history.
“A good question, Sire, and one that I am prepared to answer. I would, though, ask that we have the Hall to ourselves ... And the Royal Guard, of course. It is a ... Delicate matter, and one that should convince you. Revealing it to early might not have the intended impact.” Farin scowled at that, clearly unhappy about the possibility of being asked to leave, but he knew he would have no option if he was. Even as the king's oldest son, prince to Kerin-Curan and the heir to the Marble Throne, his father expected nothing less than total obedience. Indeed, it was expected more of him than anyone else.
“Of course, Guild Lord. Of course,” was the answer, accompanied by a sigh. A number of nobles, courtiers and advisors whose curiosity was now piqued were ushered out of the hall, through tall, arching doors emblazoned with the symbol - tribalistic wolfhead, lines trailing behind it, underneath an anvil - of Clan Tri-Kazelim.
An hour later and Guild Lord Snorri Snorrisson emerged from the Hall, flanked by his two Guild-Brothers and looking grimly pleased with himself. The king was distracted when the group, a mix of dwarves and humans, was allowed to re-enter, and soon called an end to the petitions. The only thing he would say to Farin was that the Guild Lords had their funding. Work on the Mechanists Guild School would begin immediately, near the dock warehouses, built directly into the cliffs beneath the city.
Province 12 - Build Science Academy (called Mechanists Guild School)
Province 11 - Build 100 ships
76, 77, 78, 86, 87, 90, 91, 92 - 100 Ironclads each
88 - 200 Ironclads
Aramore had served as the capital of Anicea for as long as any cared to remember, it had gone from a small town that grew on the bounty of the sea to the beating heart of a mighty Empire over the course of centuries, and despite the nation’s fall from grace the power and achievments of the Anicean Empire still lived on in the ancient structures that dominated the city. The Anicean Science Academy, the Naval College and Academy of War, and the sprawling docks that at one time served as the meeting point of vessels from across Kolnur were monuments to the Empire. Looking up however, the centrepiece of the city by far was the Palace of the Anicean Kings which served as a beacon to any within the city’s walls. Originally Aramore had been a town confined to the walls and keep of the castle, but as the city grew, so did the palace, before it became the fortress from which Anicea was born. During the time of the Empire, Dwarven architects and Gnommish engineers were tasked with transforming the Keep into a blazing symbol of Anicean supremacy; the result was a structure stretching to the heavens, home to not only the Royal family but to the city’s garrison, their families, aristocrats, servants and guests alike. Indeed, it would be no exaggeration to see Aramore Hold as a vibrant town within the Capital itself. Even with the golden age of the Empire confined to the past, few could match the extravagance and beauty of the Capital of Anicea.
King Elfire Steelfarmer had sat on the throne of Anicea with a guiding hand for over 100 years, rising to the position upon the abdication of his father when many feared that Anicea would slide into the long dark, shattered by the might of the Alliance’s armies. With its people broken, its armies in shambles and its economy ailing, Anicea was on the verge of collapse; however, the rapid and drastic steps taken by Elfire upon his inaugauration are credited with not only halting the decline of the Anicea, but in some instances reversing the nation’s fortune. For too long, the Kingdom had been focused on its colonial and imperial interests, expanding ever outwards for decades: Anciea could not sustain itself without the sustenance of its Empire and her colonies. King Elfire sought to rectify this, in a number of bold moves he shut Anciea off from Kolnur, and mobilised what remained of the army not for war, but construction. Within the first three decades of his rule, Anicea was crisscrossed by the mighty railroads and the Iron Engines which pulled forward the sudden economic development. For so long, the country had stagnated, lavishing in the success of its past, the inward development spurred the entire population into action, the Academies once again became centres of learning and knowledge and although it was still a shadow of the Empire, Anicea rose from the ashes standing tall, with King Elfire Steelfarmer at its helm.
The King sat in his throne, deep in thought, listening intently to his old friend. “Your highness, we cannot afford to remain detached as we once did; Kolnur lies in ruin and the entire world has shifted. The collapse of the Alliance may be heralded by some,” Hokum Stormmail, the son of Lord Stormmail of Clan Skrioudalr who had fought alongside the King since the two were but children, glared pointedly at the Minister, his bearded face contorted in annoyance, “but rest assured chaos and anarchy can only ensue. We must strengthen our borders and establish ourselves on this new stage before we find ourselves assailed by bandits and brigands at our door!” Elfire knew that this debate had been raging for days within the parliament and that an extended stalemate between the parties was the only reason that the dwarf had deemed it prudent to step his foot into the stinking brew of politics. The minister looked at the dwarf undaunted by the outburst, “My lord, the Alliance was our greatest foe and the hated enemy of Anicea, it was only expected that they’re expansionist policies bring them ruin but we must not let this opportunity pass us by.” One of the king’s eyebrow’s rose slightly, of all the things that the recent catastrophe that had befallen the continent could be called, ‘opportunity’ was not the first one that sprung into his mind. “Already we are suffering overcrowding from refugees, and as much as I pity these innocents, we cannot hope to accommodate them all unless we take advantage of the circumstances. The correct course of action wo-“ raising his hand, Elfire silenced the gnome, deciding he had let the argument run its course long enough, “Although I appreciate your concerns minister, we have a responsibility to the people of Anicea to defend them from any threats first, then consider any other moves second.” The king turned to his aides, “Send word to the parliament, we must secure our borders as an absolute priority before attempting anything rash. My second decree, we need information from the mainland, try to raise old contacts, send diplomats if need be, just ensure that they are adequately protected.” The king rose from his throne, dismissing those in the hall, “The time for Anicea to be isolated is over, I must know who remains: be they friends or foes? Make preparations for the Admiral’s return from the central sea, but until then I want the Iron Navy staying near the coast.” Those present saluted the king as he exited the throne room, but hidden from view there was a frown of worry on his gnomish face, By the gods see us through.
Military unit positions:
Province 66: 500 Ironclads
Province 68: 250 Ironclads
Sea Province 6: 250 Ironclads
Province 67: +100 Ironclads (Turn 1)
Province 68: +100 Ironclads (Turn 1)
Province 66: Researching Mithril Armour (Turn 1)
OOC: Garrgh! Not my best work, but I'm tired today...
EDIT: Woops forgot to mention where I'm sending the diplomats :3
Diplomats dispatched to:
with offers of dialogue and possible trade agreements as well as the offer of the Iron Navy patrolling certain waters against pirates and brigands.
14th of Breaking Cold, 17th Era 63 (Common: 1243)
“Sir, we have reports from the East,” Reported Guardian Phaeric, Slaér’s secretary. “The Shadow is advancing again.”
“Damn,” Cursed Slaér, strolling back and forth in the Bellaric Centre of the Bastion, the home of the Guardians. “We have no military to speak of, and the nearby countries don’t seem too pleased with us. We’re too vulnerable a target.”
“That I would agree with, Sir.”
“That you do, Phaeric. I will have to discuss this with Irèsp and the others. Tell the Defendants to be here tomorrow daybreak. I will need to give them the verdict.”
“I shall do that, Sir. May your sword be ever sharp.”
“But your wits sharper.” Slaér responded, turning swiftly to Phaeric’s bow and walking out through the Bastion. It was made entirely of magically-strengthened white marble, with runes inscribed on the pillars. It was home to the 500 Guardians of Salthiusar, an organisation set up by Irèsp to safeguard the nation. And they were due to be tested. Upon reaching the portal room, he walked purposefully into the council portal, and was teleported there almost instantaneously.
The Council Building was majestic, crystalline and turquoise. Made of the same hardy crystal as all the rest of the city, breaching it would be no easy feat. After a short walk, Slaér reached his destination – the Council Room. And it was already in use. Striding in, he watched Dalàth, the Head Librarian, and Calleis, the Head Magus, arguing, as usual.
“I’m telling you, there is no way an army of that size could simply teleport over here, Dalàth. Even if it is as spiritual as it is rumoured, not even an Arch-Lich could hop it so far.”
“But here is your problem, Calleis – The Lich could easily phase them out of existence. If he were to move a great enough magical focus near here, he could summon it all at a moment’s notice.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything here,” Slaér interjected. “But we have fresh reports on the Shadow. Our current estimates give us less than a few years until they arrive, unless the border nations can hold.”
Irèsp stood up from his throne, next to the desolate throne that had lain empty since the Salth’s second era, and spoke. “In which case, Slaér, begin population assessment. We need to re-equip for war. Also, send out ambassadors to find how our neighbours feel about us and this situation. We may need to wipe some out.”
“It shall be done.” Slaér responded, bowing then striding out of the room. As he left, he heard Calleis and Dalàth arguing again. He could only laugh to himself about how much fun Irèsp must be having.
15th of Breaking Cold, 17th Era 63 (Common: 1243)
As the sun rose on Kolnur, the true beauty of Salthiusar rising from the night, the Defendants gathered in the Bellaric Centre. Slaér imparted to them their orders, the elite ten accepting their tasks with usual enthusiasm. Another long year was ahead of them, and little could be done to ease the hardship.
-The Guardians begin population assessment;
-Pairs of Guardians are sent to Indiga, Skibul and Darkorin in peace to find their stance on the Shadow, gauge hostility and see if they are willing to aid Salthiusar against the shadow. Truces requested.
They were all gathered together, Lord Pietor Hibracht, human king of the Great Trade Republic, Lord Nirah Baggro, his Gnomish counterpart, Generals Radgerast and Kirolo, the six top merchants of the season and a score of emissaries and scribes. There were some old hands and a few new faces.
“So,” Began Lord Hibracht, “How goes the Evermarket?”
One emissary, a gnome with a long, braided beard, spoke up.
“All is well milord, an emissary has been sent to us from the Kerin-Curan, offering a treaty of alliance.”
The kings considered for a few moments, but there was no real debate.
“Of course!” Hibracht said, smiling widely. “Tell the Leader of the Kerin-Curan that we accept their offer!”
The emissary nodded and rushed from the room Another emissary stood, a human this time, he held a heavy parchment.
“Milord, we have made a list of countries, those who we believe it is of paramount importance that we remain on good terms with.”
The emissary handed over the list and the kings read it with expert eyes.
“The Empire, The Korgan-Sul and the Puplori.” Hibracht read out loud. Baggro nodded quietly.
“Very well, send emissaries at once, I wish for your return within a month!” Several emissaries nodded, bowed and left the room.
“Gentlemen,” Lord Hibracht said to the remaining people. “Ladies,” He quickly added to Loria Baskervil, a senior merchant. “We have much to rebuild and we must be ready to receive this new threat, this Darkness, thisGreat shadow. We must not let it cripple us. We must bolster our defences and make preparations, but do not it allow to stand in the way of trade, for that is our lifeblood.”
Emissary sent to:
Emissary received from:
all emissaries accepted
Soldiers given rousing pep talks (doesn’t really do anything, just prepares them a bit, makes them feel better.)
(OOC) Will write another post tonight containing the replies that I have recieved and such.
King Sebastian looked at his diplomats, his commanders and the rest of his government that had been assembled for this meeting. In the past few weeks many similar meetings had been held. No one had yet to come up with a solution to the many problems that had risen with the shadows. Today however, that was to change. He had been summoned with the promise of an answer.
"Your highness" one of the commanders started "as you well know with the shadow's resurgence many of our men feel the iron grip of fear close upon them..." Normally Sebastian would wait for the man to get to the point at his own time but in this case he was in no mood nor did he have the time to deal with a drama "Commander, I know of the situation we are in, I came after being promised with a solution and unless you have one I might as well leave now."
"yes m'lord" The commander said bowing his head "with our expected food shortages, our low morale, and our position on the front lines against the shadows. We simply need support" Pausing for a moment the Commander drew in his breath as he prepared to state his plan "Sire many of my colleagues and myself believe that our neighbors will not be able to spare any resources due to them spending it on their own defenses, however should we take it and put it to use for our defenses we would hold the line and the other empires would still be safe."
Sebastian stared at the young commander then at the rest of the called government and as he looked at them they all nodded their agreement. Obviously he realized that they had already discussed and this idea seemed to be the most popular. "Sir a quick victory would likely raise moral for our troops by seeing the power of Terra"
At first the idea seemed crazy in his head, but as Sebastian thought it through, it made a sort of twisted sense. Gain more supplies from the weaker empire, show off their power while loosing little troops, protect the new land and its people and hold off the shadows. "Very well, I can see that you have all thought this through and for now it is the only option we have. You have my permission." And with that Sebastian left the court, leaving everyone else to squabble among st themselves and finalize their plans. Funny he thought to himself how a war will be used to end a war.
Light infantry = 50,000
arequbus = 20,000
heavy cavalry = 10,000
move from 44 into 39
War against Gayur
General Le Marc stood on his balcony over looking the capital of Terra, from where he stood he saw the picture of the empire, smoke rising from its great factories, the distant trains ever accompanied by their smoke but he also knew what it all meant, another war with the shadows was coming and the government convinced the king to enter another war. The trains he now saw were loading up on arms and undoubtedly were going to help the spearhead of the attack. More people would die and their homes would be undefended from the real threat. Looking down he also saw an Ogre loaded onto a carriage along with several others, undoubtedly to be used as cannon fodder or a pack mule. So much potential wasted he thought, looking up again he glanced one last time at the city, as it shone seemingly golden by the setting sun, the many factories that would pump out thousands of arms, the trains zipping across the land, all the people milling about getting to their jobs or heading home but always in a hurry, nowadays in this technological boom everyone was in a hurry. Thinking on that last thought he headed inside, he was one of the few who opposed the new war idea, even as a general though his voice meant little in the grand scheme and soon he too would hurry like those bellow: but for now, he needed to rest.
“Milords, the emissaries have returned.” Said a guard, slamming his spear-wielding fist into his chest as a salute.
Three emissaries entered the room, each reporting their respective successes.
Lord Baggro noticed something. "Where is Vilanco? He was sent to speak with the Puplori."
There was no word from him for several hours, when suddenly the doors were pulled open. Two humans walked in, carrying a shrouded figure. The body was just over five feet tall and was obscured by a large, heavy shroud. Blood stained the shroud and a little box was sat next to it.
“Our emissary from the Puplori.” A guard said. General Raderast looked into the box and spoke angrily. “Milord, I must ask that we respond to this disgraceful act!”
"What happened?" Asked Hibracht, staring curiously at the shrouded form.
"They have slain our emissary milord!" The general fumed.
The two kings conferred briefly. The Lord Hibracht knelt and picked up the box next to the body. As he opened it, both generals moved to stop him, but too late. The king recoiled, dropped the box and a severed, mutilated head rolled out.
“Gods above!” He cried involuntarily. The merchants were all murmuring, looking shocked or sick.
The kings glanced at each other, very briefly.
“We cannot allow this to stand!” Said the gnomish general, Libri Kirolo. His hand was rested on the hilt of his short sword and rage was contorting his normally benign face.
"Agreed." Said Hibracht and Baggro nodded.
"As of this moment, the Puplori will are enemies of the Great Trade Republic!"
Messages sent to all allies, requesting aid against the Puplori.
Troop movements (PMed to Romero)
6th of Sow, 17th Era 63 (Common: 1243)
“This has been a fast procedure, has it not?” Guardian Phaeric asked, turning the last of the 500,000 papers over. The population assessment was done and dusted in a mere nineteen moons, more than a week faster than last time.
“It has, Phaeric.” Responded Slaér. “But the result is not what we wanted. Too few can fight well, and we don’t have enough Guardians to fight for Salthiusar. We have no military presence.”
“You aren’t suggesting-”
“I am. Send this letter to Irèsp. Tell him the premise of my plan and arrange a conference. The city cannot deny this.”
“May your sword be sharp, sir.” Phaeric took the letter and left following Slaér’s reply. Slaér stayed a while, checking over paperwork until the timeband broke, popping a small blue flame into the air. He quickly dispelled it and set off for morning drills, swiping a binding rune on the door as he left.
8th of Sow, 17th Era 63 (Common: 1243)
The Council Building was truly a work of art, and no less fit for purpose. The magic lights dotted about the crystalline structure, the perfectly contrasting floor, the various sculptures and plants between and in pillars, it was all beautiful. It was of little surprise to know many regard it as one of the best pieces of architecture known to Kolnur.
However, Slaér wasn’t too observant of the crystal. He was more interested in war. Today was a special day. As he walked from the Council Rooms, he was happy. He was happy Salthiusar could defend itself, one day. Irèsp had given the go-ahead on an immense project, requiring the help of hundreds of the most skilled crystal-singers in the city, and hundreds of creation-trained mages for the new building. To be sung in the city’s wall, right next to the Bastion, was the Rhetoria Bellaere. Salthiusar’s new Academy of War.
-Construction of the Rhetoria Bellaere, Academy of War, begins.
“Lord, the Shadow is now at our border and we must prepare for war. Maybe we should call to the inland nations for aid?” said General Lucius. The Emperor looked to his left, down the long curve the war table that was in the war room of the Imperial Palace. The war room was a large circular room with a horseshoe shaped table that the various Generals and the government officials met with the emperor when they had important matters to discuss. Hanging from the walls were several large Army banners that had stood for the various Legions of the Empire. And underneath each of the banners stood a Legionary from each Legion and acted as the honor guard for the Emperor. General Lucius was one of the lower ranked, and therefore experienced generals, and was at the far let of the table.
“General Lucius, we are the Empire. Where in all of Kolnur can you find troops that can stand against out Legions? No, we will call for aid. We will stand and hold the Darkness from gaining any momentum, and when the other nations finally pull their armies and act together we will mount an offensive with them. Until then we will stand and fight by the strength and honor of our legions,” responded Emperor Octavian with steel in his voice. He then turned to another general about that was two seats to his right and asked, “What do you say General Turok? Can your Elite infantry hold the shadow at bay?”
General Turok was the General of the Elite Heavy Infantry and the back bone of the Legions, and therefore the highest ranking Ogre in the Empire, and one of the highest ranking Generals. “My lord, your Legions will push the shadow bade to Hell if you give them the order” rumbled General Turok in a voice that sounded like two giant boulders crushing against one another. With a chuckle in his voice at the utter faith that Turok had in the Legion the emperor replied, “I am sure they would General, but just have them hold our borders for now. We don’t want to commit ourselves to an offensive without first knowing who our allies behind us are. And on that note” all serious again the emperor turned farther his right to Tribune Varo who was in charge of the Empires diplomatic/spy core. “Varro, I want emissaries sent to all the nations we don’t have open communication to. Find out what they are up to and what their plans are."
"I will do that immediately Lord. But we have recieved an emissary from the Great Trade Republic. Apperantly the nation of Poplori has murdered a Republic Emissary. The Republic is requesting our aid in a war against the Poplori. What do you want me to tell them Lord?" replied Varo.
"The Republic is one of our greatest allies gentlemen. And our we do not allow our Brothers go to war unaided! Varo, tell the Republic that we will give any aid that they need, whether that be troops or arms.
And Turok, get the Legions recruting. I have a feeling that we will need as many trained soldiers that we can get. And I believe that is all for now gentlemen. Get your Legions ready for we are going to war!”
Sent emissaries to:
All territories start training soldiers.
42 and 65 Trains Heavy Infantry
41 Trains Archers
Winds whistled through the jagged peaks of the Kogani Range, white capped daggers piercing the very heavens. "Are we there yet? I think my feet have frozen solid Tsering!"
"According to the map, we are very close. This mission is of the utmost import, so quit your whining or I'll put it in my after action report!" The two men crested a ridgeline, which abutted a massive tidal plain. "Haha, yes, we have made it! Now we must link up with the dwarf recon unit out here. They are likely camped below the snow line. Make haste!" The two Kogani long range scouts broke into a trot, their makeshift snowshoes tossing up a flurry of freshly fallen snow. As they neared the snow line, the faint smell of a cooking fire wafted by one of the men. "No smoke, but I smell a cooking fire. The dwarves are close."
The men had not barely stowed their snowshoes and began their hunt through the alpine forest when a voice issued a challenge. "When the sun has set, and the hammers ring!"
The leader of the scouts drew his bow quickly, singing the reply "The horde swells and Kogani sings!"
"Aye laddy, a little off key but t'will suffice!" A contingent of Fiendfoe dwarves emerged from the brush, daubed in mud, crossbows drawn and axes beared.
"Hail, Master Dwarf! The name's Tsering, and my buddy is Tenz. We are here to reinforce your position and provide surveillance for the commanders back in Kogan-sul."
"Well met, name's Rock. Me and the lads been up here fer a fortnight."
"Mission?" replied Tsering.
Rock chuckled, "snooping, a little rabble rousing, ye know that asymmetrical stuff they teach ye at the Academy."
"How go the preparations, Mafis?"
"Everything is in order, my Khan. We have sent our emissaries to the Republic and Kerin-Curan...
"What of the scouts?" the Khan interjected, spilling wine from his jeweled goblet.
"No word yet from either our men or Snori's. But I would not worry Khan, they are adept at what they do."
"Do not seek to console me. Consolation can wait for after we have destroyed the Shadow. Mafis, we are at war, and though we shall likely not bear its brunt for some time, I endeavor to win this battle and bring great honor to our land."
Mafis stood silently, jotting a note in his ledger and doing a quick calculation on his abacus. "Milord, the troop movements should be nearing completion, according to my calculations."
Emissaries sent to Republic, Kerin-Curan, Puplori
Forward scouts sent to border with Puplori
Territories 27, 28 requisition 2000 conscripts
Territory 28 requisitions 1000 Dwarven heavy infantry
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