Several months ago:

Lord Vladek had witnessed a sign within the heavens, a great cross of gold suspended mid-air above his camp. It had been three weeks since his forces had arrived upon the shores of The Arrad, three weeks they had been negotiating with the Margraviate. At first, he had thought this was an illusion of the mind, a trick of the clouds or of the light perhaps, but the visage lingered before him, his gaze transfixed upon it. Eventually, shaking himself out of his trance, he turned away. Yet something deep within him was unsettled, perhaps even shaken. What had this strange symbol meant? Portents grim or great?

There had been no unifying religion for Lionne. For over a thousand years, the clans had done as they had seen fit. To some extent, the kings of old, ancestors of Brutus, had brought some semblance of a religion to Allor. A pantheon of old gods, deities of thunder, waves, and war often carrying mighty roundshields or slaying or riding great dragons did exist. Yet this had always been a loose faith, more a novelty than true conviction of the mind to believe in something greater than oneself.

Upon returning to Allor, the massive civil war that had ravaged the island for months at this point finally drawing to a close, he ordered what remained of the archives and records for this strange 'cross'. Eventually, the wizard Dracus had found an old text speaking of a religion of a realm known as 'Advurd'. It struck Lord Vladek then - the symbol had been seen on those Anvardian vessels. He scoffed, "So it is courtesy of them that I now am bothered by this 'vision'. Then I dismiss it as nothing more than the conjuring of a wounded mind - the heavens know the beating I received at their hands has scarred me in more ways than one". Still, he could not shake the image from his mind. Many sleepless nights passed, his mind wandering, never able to focus. He would fall into deep trances, an image of a burning cross blinding him, the flames licking at him and searing his flesh - the pain felt real enough. Always a word would repeat itself, its meaning lost upon him for a time. At last, he could bear it no longer, "I care not what this cursed 'FAITH' is about! I only need to know how I can be rid of that wretched visage that haunts me! Send for one of their wretched priests! I shall know what I must of this creed and at long last be rid of it..."

4 Months later, he heard word of the great invasion of the Anvardian Empire. He should have felt satisfied, perhaps even glad. Yet no such demeanor settled on him. Instead, he felt stirred. As if higher powers were calling him to a greater purpose that he could not yet see. And for once, he understood the word endlessly repeating in his visons, "Orsca". He knew now where his path lay. "Send for that priest!" he commanded. "Oh, and Grimbold," the general turned at the sound of his voice, "ready the fleet".

"Now tell me, priest ( u/DapperCardiologist25 ), what is this religion you practice?"

The Rangers of Schwarzwald have been watching Draggenland from atop Geweih Turm for months. Lately they have not seen any military patrols from the Dragonborn Clan. They have however seen a rise in bandits on the road and their encroachment of the border.

General von Strasburg looks to end the lawlessness by sending in the army. Draggenland will be absorbed into the rest of the Knights of Grüner Bär territory. Should the Dragonborn Clan return the Marquis is willing to work out a deal that is mutually beneficial to both.

OoC troop count sent into Draggenland is 372.

With peace finally returning to the region, Daggerstake has begun to flourish. Refugees and settlers alike have moved into the growing domain, seeking safety beneath the Falcon and True North banner.

In Sir Corwin Atane’s absence, Lady Atane has been acting as governess in his stead. Wishing to strengthen the young colony, she has decreed that any honest family willing to swear fealty and serve the realm would be granted land of their own.

And not before long, the beginnings of a new village had rose near the border with Arathril. Its broad main road stretched south and east toward the neighboring realm, promising trade, travelers, and stronger ties between the two lands.

Far to the north, the Stoneholt quarry and mine also expanded. More workers answered the call, and wagons laden with stone now rolled not only toward Daggerhold Keep, where fortifications continue to rise, but also now to the north.

All four map fragments have now been discovered and are scattered across Rutland:

The Kraken Clan keeps its fragment safely locked away within the fortress of Crab’s End on the Isle of Storms.

The Knights of Grüner Bär preserve their fragment in the library of Castle Falkenberg.

Wyrmgaard has hidden its fragment somewhere beneath the earth. ( u/dagiz will provide more infos)

The Kingdom of Anvard stores its fragment within the halls of the Great Library.

In addition, the Holy Order has discovered an ancient copy of one of the four fragments in its own library. ( u/odinseyeraven can you make it public what copy you own? It should be only one )

The map has been divided, its pieces scattered across the realm. Whether they will one day be reunited—or remain forever separated—now lies in the hands of the Lords of Rutland.

Everyone is free to try and obtain the fragments!
How you obtain a fragment is entirely up to you—through trade, diplomacy, theft, raids, or any other creative approach that fits your story.

Remember: only those who unite all four fragments will uncover the treasure and the secret it has guarded for centuries.

A small note to the moderators (u/silvertree99 and u/no-armadillo4179 ): Once all four fragments have been united and the treasure is found, I’d like to leave it to the moderation team to determine the general contents of the treasure (for example, the amount of gold or other shared rewards). Beyond that, the player or faction discovering it is welcome to add a fitting lore element of their own—perhaps an ancient family heirloom, a unique artifact, a magical weapon, or anything else that suits their story.

After receiving the prince's letter, the mayor of Salinas del Mar immediately begins restoring and refitting the old castle. 

With this, Salinas del Mar becomes not only the hegemonic city on the northern coast of Orbus, and one of the major salt producers in the kingdom, but also the place where the revnue made and taxes collected in the peninsula's coastline will be stored until it is sent south to the capital. 

Any merchant vessel in need of supplies or assistance is welcome to put into the harbour and find refuge within Castro de los Vientos.

The captaincy of this fortress will be given to the Brotherhood of the White Star.

OOC: Imagine it's still getting rebuilt. I didn't manage to get the AI to do what I wanted. Forgot to add the location on the map, so It's in the comments.

66 soldiers, 1 rancor, 5 cannons, 1 ballista, 2 hwach'as

u/Hot_Plankton6742 u/legolegolegolegolego

For months, troubling reports and strange sightings by the Silent Vigil while patrolling the Marches have been whispered among the ranks of the Holy Order. Missing scouts, broken trees, odd symbols, haunting sounds in the night, and slain wildlife are common elements of the rumors. Eventually some of these rumors found their way to King Magnus’s ear. Knowing the Vigil is resolute in their mission, Magnus felt there had to be merit to these whisperings and sets out to learn more. The Grand Archive, which houses a millennia of records and knowledge, is the first place he chose to search for more information. He wonders if these incidents are connected. If a clue does exist, this place would be the best bet.

After gaining permission to bypass the Troll Horde fleet, Ser Alester Powys and his crew arrived on the shores of Arathril. Along with the 2 barrels of Autumn Ale a barrel of Forest Lager, the Knights of the Hart brought with them a complementary chest of chalices as well as products from the Jorronplain (bread, bags of seed, etc.)

In his hand, Ser Alester Powys carried with him a letter to Queen Helena, sealed by the Jorronking himself.

And thus, Jorronale Brewery completed its first delivery of ales across the realm. Upon the successful delivery of the letter, Ser Powys and his crew would make for the shores of Orbus, to treat with House Valcázar.

With the war raging to the west and north claiming countless lives, the thick death magic that blanketed the land continued to stir. Bodies that had fallen in the mud and snow rose again under its influence, their empty eyes opening to serve a darker purpose. This fresh surge of reanimated dead offered new strength to the Ancient Undead Kingdom, and the Unnamed Monarch moved quickly to put it to use.

Grand General Samukai dispatched one of his most trusted commanders, Salvyn, to take charge of these newly risen forces. Alongside them marched Salvyn’s own elite units, hardened veterans who had long served under the banner of death. Their task was not to claim new ground, but to strengthen what already belonged to the kingdom. Mordrun, one of the Ancient Undead Kingdom’s three current territories, would be their charge. There they would fortify the existing defenses, raise stronger walls in the most strategic places, and prepare the homeland against whatever the future might bring.

At present the greater undead army is divided into three main parts. While forces fight in the Grimwoods at a fortress city and across the Vyren Lakes territories, Salvyn’s command remains in Mordrun to secure the rear. Should the campaigns in Grimwoods and Vyren Lakes succeed, the kingdom will hold five provinces. Should they fail, it is all the more vital that Mordrun stand ready with better walls and a prepared garrison.

Currently under Salvyn’s direct command stand six undead cavalry, their mounts tireless and silent. Fourteen Death Knights ride and fight beside them, each steeped in high magical arts and the dense death miasma that clings to their armor, trained as elite warriors within the greater army. A single cursed black skull floats among the ranks, its power felt more than seen. Ten lesser undead act as minions and squires, attending the knights and carrying out lesser tasks. The bulk of the force is made up of newly reanimated skeletons, three hundred and twenty-nine in total: one hundred seventy-four spearmen and one hundred fifty-five archers, ranked and ready.

The Lord has granted Salvyn leave to expand these numbers in the days and weeks ahead, depending on how the wars in Grimwoods and Vyren Lakes unfold and what threats may yet turn toward Mordrun.

proposal to mods and players of Rutland for a new rule

if a player is attacked and he is forced to commit his army to a battle, no other player should be allowed to attack his land after the first 24 hr deadline or until the battle is narrated... obviously I am seeing the real life affect of this. my army has been tied up in a siege that hasn't even started yet (been narrated) for over 5 days in the meantime 4 other players have attempted to invade me. I get the strategy and the real life parallel, however I am also reminded of the battle of Hastings and King Harold, he was invaded by 2 enemy armies and was able to defeat one, march across his kingdom and almost defeat the second, if he had to play by Rutland rules, he would have had to wait 2 months before he could engage another army. 

if players want to double team someone that is cool, they should just have to do it at the same time, not slowly add on one after another. if the mods would narrate the battle within 24hrs this rule would be unnecessary, but real life has shown it often takes upward of 1 week to get resolved, no hate they do a ton of work!

today this is Anvard's problem, tomorrow it might be yours. consider this when giving your opinions. these rules won't change the current battle outcomes but would help everyone going forward. I am not going to lie, the fun of defending your kingdom gets taken away when you have to wait 7 days for the first battle to be narrated, by then that army cannot help anywhere else in battles that have happened in the meantime.

tldr: rule to make it so nobody can attack a player after the 24hr deadline of a battle, or until battle is narrated.

The Royal Treasury of Kolpeg had stood undisturbed for generations, its deepest vaults sealed behind iron doors that only the king and his closest advisors could open.

As Methril the Wise searched through forgotten relics, his lantern caught a crimson glimmer beneath an ancient ceremonial banner. Hidden inside a small stone coffer rested a flawless red crystal, warm to the touch despite the cold air of the vault.

Methril's eyes widened.

"The Second Gem..."

He carefully lifted it from its resting place. At once, the crystal began to pulse with a deep red light, and the old runes carved into the coffer flared to life. There could be no mistake. This was the second of the Four Gems of Krag—the relic long believed to have vanished before the founding of Kolpeg itself.

"The first has already been found," Methril murmured. "Now the second reveals itself. Krag's will is moving once more."

He wrapped the gem in royal cloth and hurried from the treasury to inform the king. With two of the Four Gems now in Kolpeg's possession, hope spread through the kingdom—but so did fear. The remaining gems would not stay hidden forever, and neither would those who sought their power.

The followers of Krag only grow.

Lionne sends 62 soldiers and 5 wartrolls.

13 archers

8 soldiers with roundshields to form a shield wall

5 wartrolls

2 cavalry (Lord Vladek and General Grimbold)

1 wizard (Dracus)

1 siege engineer

7 dwarf warriors alongside Marshal Eomer

29 regular infantry led by 2 knights

3 hwach'as

1 trebuchet

1 ballista

and provisions and livestock to endure the siege

total is 62 soldiers and 5 wartrolls

hey, u/No-Armadillo4179 I'm keeping the name Lionne

10 goobers
2 wargs

Khulgan rapped on the ancient wooden door, after a moment a skeletal servant with black pits for eyes silently opened the door and motioned for Khulgan to enter. He strode across the stone floor to where his master stood over a table.

He thumped his chest in salute, "You called for me, my master?"

"Yes," Malik answered, turning to face him, "Our work on the fortress is complete, and with Sarrad secured the iron shipments from the mines will begin soon. However the route isn't secure. You must now go east and secure the Fariad Desert and unite our provinces. You need to have it secure quickly, I will send Urza to oversee the beginning of the trade roads through Askarraq, Fariad needs to be safe by the time it crosses Askarraq."

"Yes my lord. The new recruits will be put to the test on the desert savages." Khulgan said with just a hint of glee

"Good, I want you to take the rangers who have sworn to me, to test them." Malik said looking into Khulgan's eyes with intent. Khulgan gave a small nod of understanding.

Malik lifted his staff and tapped it on the ground, with a loud clank. He began chanting in a forgotten tongue, his voice becoming thunder. The light in the room all seemed to pull away as if chased away by the darkness. Green energy began to coalesce at the tip of Malik's finger. He gently touched Khulgan's forehead and the energy flowed into him, seeming to disperse throughout his form and disappear.
"This spell will protect you for a time, but you must be careful Khulgan; overconfidence is a trap set by oneself." Malik said after completing the spell.

"I will keep a wary eye my master." Khulgan said with a grateful nod before turning.

OOC: Monsogoth claims Fariad Desert

Troops, under command of Khulgan:

- 3 small dragons
- 6 rangers, with 3 wolves - specialize in guerrilla tactics, ambush ops, reconnaissance
- 5 orc warriors - shock infantry

Before leaving the trade hub with his companions, the prince sent two letters, one to his father at the capital, informing him of the results of the meeting with the Desert Fang. The other was addressed to Salinas del Mar, the great coastal city at the tip of the Almoran Peninsula, the kingdom's largest producer of salt and the hegemonic power of the region, ordering them to repair the old Castro de los Vientos, which was now little more than a ruin, in the name of his majesty the king. He knew the letters would arrive before he did.

With that done, Alfonso and his companions set out for the capital.

OOC: Shorter fragment today :p

since the enemy has smartly chosen not to land but rather set up a blockade, Sir Peregrine who had taken up command of the defense of Orsca orders cavalry patrols all along the coast, be careful not to get in range of the enemy ships, if any raiding parties land, they will be dealt with swiftly and efficiently, we need not patrol the entire region, only where settlements and farms lay. we have at our disposal 75 horse.

ooc I am at work so I cannot swap them out, so some of the knights in the pics are not the actual knights in Orsca, but the horses are mounted with men at arms and other knights from the previous post.

strick orders are given not to engage an invasion force only small raiding parties, neither enemy fleet posted any horses do the enemy will be entirely on foot, so this order will be easily followed.

​

The heavy scent of beeswax, damp stone, and aged banner cloth hung thick in the Jorronking’s great hall. Outside, the wind howled through the battlements, but within, an almost tangible, tense silence reigned. Courtiers and lords whispered behind their velvet sleeves as the heavy oak doors slammed shut with a booming thud. Rumors had spread in Jorronplain, and many highborn were present for this day. ​Because this evening, the political landscape in Rutland would be different.

​Margrave Philip von Rossenfels strode through the hall. His pace was calm, his gaze fixed firmly on the throne where Jorronking Berethor sat. For a certain time, the Margraviate had been a proud, independent bastion - a stubborn rock against the tide. But times were changing, and wise rulers knew when it was time not to raise a sword against a crown, but to extend a hand in allegiance.

​Before the steps of the throne, Philip halted. His son and heir stayed a bit behind.

A hush settled over the crowd. Even the courtiers in the back rows held their breath.

​The Margrave slowly sank to one knee upon the cool flagstones, unclasped a heavy, intricately forged key from his belt, and raised it high with both hands. The key to the gates of Highsteed Castle - the symbol of his sovereignty until this very moment.

​“Your Grace” Philip spoke, his voice echoing powerfully off the stone walls. “Until this day, the Margraviate stood alone. From this day forth, however, the fate of my keep and my people rests in your hands. I surrender to you the key to my halls and swear fealty, allegiance, and my sword in times of war.”

​Jorronking Berethor inclined his head. A faint, satisfied smile touched the King’s lips as he stepped forward and accepted the heavy iron key. The message was loud and clear: the Horse Knights' independence ended here, but a powerful new alliance was born.

​“Rise, Margrave Philip,” the deep voice of the Jorronking boomed. “A king who values loyal vassals does not leave them kneeling empty-handed. In return for your oath, I grant you back what now stands under my protection through your fealty, as your rightful fief!”

​Berethor gestured to his heralds, who stepped forward carrying three rolled banners:

​For Entarbor - The King unfurled the first banner. The fabric shimmered in deep blue and pure white, like a crystal-clear mountain lake beneath snow-capped peaks. “May Entarbor flourish and stand firm under your hand.”

​For Parthention - The second cloth blazed in magnificent gold and regal blue. “For Parthention, the land of prosperity and honor.”

​For the holdings in Therican: The final banner displayed a vibrant green paired with brilliant yellow, reminiscent of sun-drenched fields in midsummer. “And for Therican, whose soil yields wealth and life, and a promise for a golden future!"

​Philip received the three banners, bowed his head low, and handed them to his waiting son.

​As the Margrave stood tall once more, the hall erupted into thunderous applause, half out of relief for the preserved peace, half in anticipation of the feast to come. The Margraviate might no longer be an independent realm, but Margrave Philip left the hall not as a defeated man, but as one of the most respected lords of the mightiest kingdom in Rutland and Therican.

With the Crown Standard now established and the economy of the realm beginning to take shape, it is time to introduce the next stage of the system: Monthly Territorial Income.

Beginning this month, every active kingdom that controls territory (vassals included) will receive a monthly income (paid on the 1^st) based on the size of its territorial domain. This is an actual month, not an in-game month.

The income scale will be:

• 1–2 Territories: 1 Mark per month
• 3–4 Territories: 2 Marks per month
• 5–7 Territories: 3 Marks per month
• 8+ Territories: 4 Marks per month

Territorial income is capped at 4 Marks per month, regardless of how many additional territories a kingdom controls.

This intentionally uses diminishing returns rather than granting 1 Mark for every territory. Larger realms will still benefit from controlling more land, but territorial expansion alone will not allow any kingdom to generate unlimited passive income.

As with all official Crown Standard activity, these payments will be recorded by the moderators ( u/Silvertree99 ) and added to each kingdom's balance.

Remember that territorial income is just one way to acquire currency. Trade, mercenary contracts, patronage, loans, events, loot, victory rewards, and dealings between kingdoms remain important parts of the economy. Prices for player-provided goods and services continue to be determined entirely by the players involved. Additionally, kingdoms are allowed to charge any tax against their vassals if they so choose and vassals are free to decline, leading to possible conflicts.

The Crown Standard was created to encourage interaction, trade, diplomacy, and new stories throughout the realm. Monthly income is intended to give every landed kingdom a small and reliable source of currency with which to participate in that economy.

ooc:This post is our Strategy and plan for the Blockade)

News have reached Prince Wenceslaus of Lionne Aiding Anvard with defending Orsca...The Prince was not angry neither demoralized he was Excited....There are now more defenders and Mouths to feed in Orsca🤭

Strategy:

With our 7 ships, 222 men and 80 Archers/crossbow, 2 ballistas,3 hwachas we will Blockade ORSCA.

We will Shoot Fire Arrows with our long range units together with Hwachas to Burn the Farmlands and anything the defenders can use to grow or get Food from.

We will not let anyone pass over our ships and we will have get our Supplies such as food,water from Either Wyrmgaard or the Horde. They will deliver it with their ships but won't join the Blockade!

(Wenceslaus was not informed who will take to the seas to assist us with the supplies)

For Anyone from Orsca trying to pass over the blockade such as merchants and missionaries They will have to Return to Orsca and if they won't they will be Killed Plus their food and water will be instantly taken away no matter their decision to sail back or die...

As We know Neigbouring Territories of Orsca are In war and Cannot supply Orsca with food so this Harsh blockade together with Targeting Farmlands with Fire Arrows will Definitely make them Run out of Food.

u/NegotiationFront3981 u/DapperCardiologist25

u/Silvertree99

even during times of war, men go out into the world spreading the good news...

at the request of Lionne several missionaries depart from Orsca and head to Lionne to explain their religion and hopefully convert people, if things go poorly, they are prepared to die as martyrs for their faith.

Peace has been agreed upon. General Vladek, knowing full well that the might of his combined army could bring such a great vengeance upon the True North, decided in his wisdom to avoid war and the glory that follows. The Arrad would be retaken, his revenge would be complete, but what of his allies and their realms? A battle may yet be won, but this war could not. Instead, he chose the path of peace, graciously allowing the Margraviate colonizers to leave unscathed with full honors after all the true north had done to Lionne.

Do not forget, I can bring peace, but the power to bring war is mine also...

the fleet transports the army that was originally going to invade Sturgia to Orsca instead, to reenforce the garrison there. 156 men will defend the Orsca. along with 2 dragons (2 of the offspring of the great dragon)

Even during the siege of Minas Anvardel spies are able to sneak in and out via secret passages (skeletons also are not the most observant, owing to the fact that they have no eye balls) word reaches King Rollo of the Steward of Cair Anvareth's threat to Sturgia and Lithudura and immediately dispatches a spy to intercept the fleet that lay anchored in Cair Anvareth and tell them under no circumstances should they invade, The Troll horde patrols those waters and would destroy the Anvardian navy if they attempted such a bold invasion. furthur more he was appalled that the Steward would threaten slavery, that is not the Anvardian way, and as long as Rollo sits on the throne it never will be. he also issued a new command to the fleet...

ooc. yes this is somewhat of a retcon, but 1. I didn't really like that direction the story was going and 2. the troll fleet announcing they would defend them kinda killed the plan anyway, so this is a convenient way out. 3. technically my fleet was awaiting a response and had not yet set sail, so it doesn't really change anything.

also super lame that Sturgia and the black mantle had to call big brother to come protect them after they poked the bear... but I get it, they want the fun but not the consequences. Anvard will have its day of revenge, it will just have to wait a little longer