Author Topic: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole  (Read 16586 times)

Offline Padre

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole
« Reply #50 on: October 08, 2010, 11:19:46 AM »
A Time for Talk?

The horses must once have been magnificent beasts, 15 hands high and attired most nobly with glorious headdresses of red feathers and silvered rods. They still trotted nimbly along, lifting their legs in the exaggerated manner of horses trained for the parade, occasionally tossing their heads as if an impetuous liveliness coursed through them. Which of course it did not, for they were dead.

Or, more accurately, undead. They pulled a chariot just as ancient as themselves, crewed by warriors not one year younger. The chariot was lumbering, fashioned it appeared from plates of silvered metal, and so heavy that it must surely have only ever been intended for ceremonial. Perhaps once a conquering hero rode in it at the head of a returning army, greeted by the thronging crowds of ancient Remas in its time of worldly supremacy?

Now it carried two officers from Lucius Valerius Maximus’ Fourth Legion, sent out from the city to meet with the High Priest of Myrmidia Gabriele Condlumar, and to escort him almost royally into the city for the talks of the ‘Council of Remas’. Condlumar rode immediately behind as they passed by the ruins of long crumbled temples, which seemed to stretch for leagues around the city as it was now.

His guards were with him, his guardian knights of the Myrmidian Dogs of War chapter, and they showed no fear of the undead escort. Nor did he, for he had other things on his mind - a crowd of thoughts that had been assailing him for days. And foremost amongst them - soon he was to meet his enemies.


The chariot led them through some of the darker streets of the great city of Remas, until Condlumar found himself travelling down a long, grey street of at least a hundred doors, most guarded by flanking statues (or at least the crumbling remains of such). Yet there were no windows amongst the doors, only high balconies. He had forgotten this - how in Remas one can turn a corner and suddenly find oneself seemingly transported into a new city, built in a style entirely different from any other part of Remas

It was not the unusual architecture, however, that drew his real attention, but rather the street’s other occupants. Here before him were some of the Cerulean League’s soldiers, and he now learned that it was not just he who employed greenskins. Lurking there, as if little more than common street thugs like the Brigosi of Condlumar’s beloved Trantio, was a band of hobgoblins. As he passed they leered at him and his party, giving nothing that might pass as any sort of salute.

What he did not know was that he had just passed a general, no less, commander of an entire army of such creatures, and a warrior who would also be attending the night’s meeting - none other than the Ethnarches of the Reman Empire, Gurgit Trollpuncha.

Inside His Imperial Highness Nikephorus III Monomachus's palace, several Ceruleans had gathered and were already plotting. None seemed particularly concerned about the undead guards within the chamber, perhaps because said guards stood so still that they seemed to have no spark of un-life within them. Besides they were becoming a common sight, stationed all over the palace and city, attired in garments and armour somewhat similar to that worn by the Despot’s own men at arms. They were the soldiers of the Fourth Legion, ancient warriors under the command of Lucius Valerius Maximus.

The Despot himself (here seen upon the left with one of his palace guards, the guard is attired in the ceremonial uniform of ancient Remas) was perusing documents, letters and scrolls, muttering to himself as he compared and considered the texts and how they might inform his chairmanship of the council.

Count Isaac von Siegfriedshof of Istrien, Master of Ebino stood close by (OOC: Mathi, late 16th C attire will have to stand in for early 17th C), watching the Despot’s every (if limited) move, judging his demeanour and patiently awaiting his next words. This was not easy, for by his side (far right) was the Templar Grand Master the Lord Silic, currently engaged in what appeared to be some form of  shadow boxing, waving hammer and pistol about as if some invisible assailant were upon him, or he had a sudden need to exercise his arms.

Such odd behaviour was to prove Lord Silic’s undoing, for suddenly he let out a gasp and clutched at his arm painfully. “Damn all the devils in this world but I have just pulled a muscle.”

The master of Ebino was not surprised, and said so.

Lord Silic did not respond to the comment, but merely said abruptly: “I shall have to be excused. This pain is unbearable. I will attend later if my doctors agree to it. Decov, the standard bearer for my Order of the Black Writ, shall attend in my stead. He will make my excuses.”

Then, to the Despot and Count Isaac’s surprise, he turned without further explanation and left the room, slamming the door behind him. They could hear him, however, in the corridor outside, shouting:

“Decov, come hither. I need you to write a letter to this effect, ‘To all those in attendance, I wish to beg your pardon for not being able to travel to Remas at this time. Certain matters require my attention….” His words trailed off as he strode further away from the council chamber.

Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Padre

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole
« Reply #51 on: October 08, 2010, 11:21:12 AM »
Warlord Guldar Bestbasha fights the Golden Company
3000 pts T&G Greenskin Raiders (me) vs. T&G Merc’ Co’ (Vekram de Crux)

General Vekram de Crux was masterless. His company had been in the employ of the famous Mighted Sturmbrow, employed to guard the town of Red Rock. They had given loyal service, fought bravely, and their employer had been the best they had ever had. Vekram came close to considering the noble dwarf a true lord, rather than a mere paymaster. But then Sturmbrow had been cruelly cut down in an act of treachery and in that moment Vekram became (once more) a masterless mercenary.

But it did not feel like that. He felt that he owed the dead dwarven lord his continued loyalty. And so it was he had marched his company westwards. There was work to be done, and not unprofitable work. He kept to himself exactly what he intended, not even his own officers knew - but they did not question him, for he was as respected by them as Sturmbrow had been by him.

Some time later the mercenary company found themselves facing a new enemy. An army of greenskins, yet one employed and directed by human masters and not like those their old master had fought when clearing the Badlands.

Rough outline list of the ‘Red Rock’ Mercenaries
Lord General Vekram de Crux
2 Condotta Captains (Johannes Tierman & Konrad von Aver)
Wizard Lord (Sophia le Rein) & Lesser Wizard (Pholtus)
10 Heavy Knights
7 Heavy Knights
35 Pikemen
25 Men at Arms
10 Pistoliers
10 Mounted Handgunners
30 longbowmen
18 Crossbow with pavaises
2 cannons
1 mortar
1 ribaudequin

Guldar Bestbasha had been given his orders and this time there was no doubting he would be sent into a fight - for he was to form the vanguard of Condlumar’s forces. As Derkid was quick to point out there could be no better place, for he who met with the foe first got to plunder them first: he who marched into enemy settlements first got to take the best that the settlement had to offer. In fact, he could take it all if he so wished.

But before the plundering could begin, the fighting had to be done.


Orc Warboss (Guldar Bestbasha)
Giant Boar, Bartuck’s Heaviest Armour, Ogre Blade, Talisman of Endurance
‘Sharp Choppas’, shield = 293
Hill Goblin Warboss (Derkid the Sneakster)
‘irty Fightin’, Kaptin’s Cutlass = 120
Orc Great Shaman Lvl 3, Knowledge of Mork = 195
Orc Big Boss with Battle Standard (Hard Gabbins)
Banner of Mork, ‘Waagh!’,  Light Armour = 122
Goblin Shaman Lvl 2, Toof Amulet  = 115
Goblin Shaman Lvl 2, Waagh Dance = 135
25 Orcs with additional choppa  plus full command  = 195
25 Orcs with additional choppa  plus full command  = 195
12 Orc Piratz = 108
10 Orcs with xbows plus musician & champion = 110
25 Hill Goblins with goblin pikes and full command = 170
25 Hill Goblins with additional hand weapons and full command = 170
13 Boar Boyz with full command = 254
30 Common Goblins with short bows + musician = 110
2 Spear Chukkas extra crew= 80
3 Boar Chariots = 240
2 Goblin Rock Lobbers = 150
5 Orc Boar Boyz Big Uns (T&G: = special, @ 26 pts!) with command =  150
Hill Goblin Cannon = 85
(Edit: Forgot to include this originally)
The Field of Battle

The two armies had both been making their way towards the hill-top ruins of a long abandoned monastery when they had become aware of each other’s presence. Both assumed the other would begin aggressive manoeuvres immediately and so neither had a chance to re-position. The lines would be drawn up either side of the hill!

(Note: IRL ‘Vekram’s’ missus did the scenery, as per usual at his place. Having been here before, neither of us was particularly surprised to find big lump of some sort smack bang in the middle of the field!)


Vekram had a lot of horse soldiers, ranging from the expensively maintained heavy knights to the lighter pistoliers and mounted handgunners. Most of these (all but the pistoliers) he commanded to take position on the far right. There his pikemen would support them, hopefully marching up behind them as they thundered into the foe. Some artillery support was given on that flank by the ribaudequin, as well as the magical assistance of the lesser of his two wizards.

Vekram himself led his men at arms, an elite regiment of full plate armour wearing warriors armed with swords and shields. His massed longbowmen stood next in  line, and then the bulk of his artillery formed the left flank - cannons and mortar and crossbowmen. It was in front of these, initially screening them, that he sent his pistoliers, with orders to move forwards and harry the foe at the first opportunity. His wizard lord he suggested should find a place in the rear, ready to move wheresoever he thought best.

Guldar had a lot more soldiers at his disposal, but even he recognised the dubious quality of some of them. After all, could he really expect goblins to contribute anything of worth? At the most he decided they might provide a suitable distraction, to buy him and his boar riders and chariots time to smash the enemy in one flank and then ride down their line in slaughtering rampage. At least, that’s what he saw happening in his head.

So he sent the goblin archers and his small body of crossbow wielding orcs along with the spear chukkas to face whatever the enemy might deploy on his far right. He did not expect them to fight, but to sting, and get in the way of an advance. What he had not thought of was that the enemy would also place his artillery there too.

His main battle line consisted of foot regiments of orcs and goblins, the shamans and rock lobbers in the rear, with his three boar chariots and two bodies of boar riders on the left. The cannon he ordered out to the far left to make a lot of noise and discourage any flanking attack down that side.

Guldar had thirteen of his boar riders to accompany him and his giant ‘sanglier’, while a small but hard hitting body of big ‘uns rode alongside. Three huge, lumbering chariots were ordered to keep pace as best they could, and look for any opportunity to hit the foe, especially in the flank if they could do it.

But facing this fast moving wing was the enemy’s heavy horse, easily an equal match for the boar riders, if not even harder hitting. And the enemy’s pikes could prove ruinous to chariots or boars foolish enough to take them on frontally.

Guldar cursed and wondered whether it would have been better to have been on the other flank, but then decided he would rather face mounted knights than the blazing mouths of cannons and a deadly tipped rain of quarrels. On the opposite side of the battlefield, Vekram de Crux simply stared at the foe whilst praying to Sigmar that the god would bless his army in this fight against one of the Empire’s traditional foes.

Beforer he had finished his prayers, the light horse made their vanguard moves: the mounted handgunners moving into the woods before them …

… while the Pistoliers cocked their pistols and trotted almost carelessly towards the greenskin archers ahead of them.

To follow asap: The battle proper
« Last Edit: October 09, 2010, 10:39:42 AM by Padre »
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Padre

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole (lots added on 8th October!)
« Reply #52 on: October 09, 2010, 12:48:40 PM »
(NB: Please see edited post above foe the field of battle/terrain. I forgot the picture before.)

The Battle, Part 1 (First one and a half turns!)

Noticing that some enemy riders had already entered the woods ahead, Hard Gabbins and his lads had a sudden urge to get to the foe, and rushed forwards to do so - thus making Guldar’s line somewhat ragged. (Note: An animosity move forwards, would have put them on top of the chariot, so we assumed - rightly? - that the unit should just move to the far side, as indeed they would if they were fleeing.)

This impetuousness paid off, however, for the orcs were now within reach of the mounted handgunners and so charged them without further ado. Four of their number died to a hail of bullets bursting from the trees, but this was not enough to halt them. Guldar, on the other hand, was feeling more cautious, and indicated a slow advance to those around him. Eyeing the enemy’s heavy horsemen up ahead he had no wish to gift them the chance to deliver a thundering charge into his boar riders. No, he had other plans, and the time was not yet right.

The chariots on his right were crucial to those plans, and so he watched satisfyingly as they trundled up onto the brow of the hill and set themselves a little obliquely to the front of his own riders.

Guldar’s Shamans made a sorry show of their first attempts at conjuring harm on the foe, though what little they did was dramatic enough. Two knights were felled by the Foot of Gork, which made Guldar chuckle. His chuckle turned to a proper laugh when he watched a  ball from his goblin crewed cannon slay two more knights from the other (larger) company. The spear chukkas sent their bolts wildly off-target, as did the rock lobbers. But the crossbow orcs saw the pistoliers riding towards them …

… and sent a volley to bloodily unseat three of them. The young gentlemen’s subsequent flight meant their was greenskin laughter on the right side of Guldar’s line too.

The fight against the light horsemen in the woods was quick and bloody. Five of the riders perished but only two orcs fell.

The riders fled away and Hard Gabbins managed to stop his lads from pursuing. He had a good idea what Guldar intended and had no wish to ruin the battle plan by bursting through the woods to receive the enemy charges before all was in place.

In the centre of the field, while the first brush with the enemy was happening on the left, the three other large regiments of foot advanced to the hill. Luckily the monastery was in ruins and the pike goblins could begin to pick their way through them (Note: The T&G rule says pike cannot enter buildings. BTW, aren’t the new terrain rules weird for foot - they can basically go anywhere!)

And so the first contacts of the day had been made, orc choppas against swords, and orc quarrels against horse flesh. As the two companies of light horse fled, Guldar wondered whether the enemy could be lured as he so wished.

The full situation on the field:

Vekram de Crux was also thoughtful. It was no surprise that he two light horse companies would be rebuffed, but nevertheless there was still the problem of how to engage with such a numerous foe. The mercenary commander stood with his adventurers, swordsmen for hire as well as all sorts of characters on the edge of society having only their skill at arms to support themselves. Wild and reckless they may be, but they were tough, and fought with the sort of skill that only such experienced men could possess.

His mind made up, Vekram signalled an advance. His pike, knowing that the enemies that faced them had every reason to be afraid of them, advanced boldly, while the heavy horse, already bloodied, moved much more cautiously on their flank.

The pistoliers rallied and reformed, but the badly mauled mounted handgunners continued their flight. The lesser wizard, Pholtus, flew into the woods to hide. From there he summoned what magic he could, along with Sophia still safely off behind the lines. (Magic 6:5 = 11CD:6DD, no channeling) The Throne of Vines and the Amber Spear both succeeded, and a couple of orcs died as a consequence. No other magic could break through the greenskin shamans’ attempts to dispel it.

The mercenaries’ shooting was a little more dramatic. Between them the crossbow, Longbow, cannons and mortar killed 4 goblins and two orcs. One cannon misfiring did not help. 

It was not that Guldar decided to try his luck and order what he had intended from the off. Raising his huge bladed spear …

… he signalled to one of the three boar chariots to charge. If it hit the foe, well and good (he thought) for that would both maul them and pin them for a moment, if it failed then they would be drawn forwards to deal with it, while he still had two companies of Boar Riders and two chariots to charge.

Hard Gabbins was too busy shouting at his lads to neaten their ranks and files to notice the chariot wheeling down the hill afore him …

… but he heard the crunch when it did (to many orcs’ surprise) hit the enemy knights.

This was a lot better than Guldar had expected. (Note: Double 6 rolled for the charge!)  He had thought he was sacrificing the chariot to draw the enemy on, and yet here it’s massive bulk and scythed wheels killed two knights in the impact alone. When the boars killed another and the orcen crew felled a fourth, the lone survivor turned and fled the field.

The chariot was not the only one to enter combat at that moment, both the pike goblins and the second regiment of orcs reached Vekram and his men at arms. They should have known from the sight of the mercenaries full plate armour, as well as the way they seemed keen to receive the charge cheering heartily as the orcs came on, that this particular foe was more than a match even for two greenskin regiments. Their banner of Restless Spite was partly the cause, but their hard earned confidence did the rest. Only the men at arms champion and one other fell to this joint attack, while six goblins and two orcs died. The pike goblins fled, but the orcs somehow found the courage to stand. (Note: Greenskin loss by 4 CR, but orcs - without a re-roll available, rolled snake eyes!).

As they ran, Derkid’s bunch, dismayed by the sight, joined them in flight. (Typical goblins! But, you get what you pay for.)

The Greenskin’s magical efforts proved pathetic as nothing they attempted to conjure would manifest. The rock lobbers fared a little better, between them killing to of the rallied pistoliers, and one spear chukka caused some damage on a cannon. As the rocks crashed to the ground the victorious chariot restrained its pursuit and turned to threaten the other knights, ignoring the pike at its rear for they knew the mercenaries could not hope to wheel sufficiently the charge them.

Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Dosiere

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole (lots added on 8th October!)
« Reply #53 on: October 10, 2010, 06:41:25 AM »
Thank you for posting all these battle reports Padre, I have really enjoyed reading them!

 I must say, you seem to have a rather obscene amount of painted miniatures!  Where the heck do you store them all?

Offline Eighty

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole (lots added on 8th October!)
« Reply #54 on: October 10, 2010, 12:20:58 PM »
while i had no idea what was happening half the time, i enjoyed the reports immensly

you sir are awesome
Trumpets sound around me, the wind blowing through my hair, as fellow gamers look in awe at my Army, secretly wishing they chose empire instead of their stupid rats

Offline Padre

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole (lots added on 8th October!)
« Reply #55 on: October 13, 2010, 07:01:51 PM »
Thanks for the positive comments. Got some more written ...

Battle Part 2 - up to the end of turn 3

The chariot crew got their way. They did indeed threaten the knights, so much so that the armoured riders wheeled sharply around to charge them for the mercenaries did not want the very foe that had just smashed their comrades behind them! Nearby, Pholtus the wizard landed his carpet right in front of the pike, as if trying to tempt the enemy on. 

For a moment Guldar thought he more than he could have wished for - the chance to charge the knight’s flank - but this was not to be, for the knights easily dispatched the chariot (now it’s deadly momentum had been removed) and then simply reformed to face the enemy once more.

Now Vekram’s wizards tried what magic they could (5:2, I channel 2 and toof amulet, so 7 casting cf. 8 dispel!), and although they could sense a very palpable resistance from the greenskin shamans, Bjuna got through and brought Hard Gabbins to the ground, lifeless. Guldar’s battle standard had fallen!

Five crossbow orcs and two pirate orcs fell to the mercenaries’ volleys, while a rock lobba was destroyed entirely by a cannon ball. Vekram himself was busy, for he and his men at arms took down four of the orcs on the hill and then cut them down in pursuit when the orcs attempted to flee. So it was that Vekram de Crux found himself cresting the hill with a clear view of the enemy behind. The two regiments of goblins were still fleeing away immediately below him, but also two little, green shamans turned to look at him, as did the crews of the brace of spear chukkas.

He realised that to stay there could ‘sting’ but at the same time he was reluctant to advance and commit his men to a part of the field where the real fight was not to occur. As he considered his options, Guldar gave a great cry of 'Waagh!', a signal to his men to get a move on and get stuck in.

For a moment nothing moved, then finally the advance began. What resulted, however, was not what Guldar had hoped for - his own boar riders merely shuffled a little way forwards while the orcs who had been with Hard Gabbins swung around the woods and annoyingly got in the way of one of the chariots. Guldar did not let this trouble him, and ordered the charge. This time the result did annoy him - neither he, his boars, the big ‘un boars or the chariot reached the foe. For the knights simply turned and fled away, denying the vicious orcs and boars the chance they had been  lusting for.

Was this some enemy trick? thought Guldar. Surely not, for if they were trying to draw him into a trap, then the wizard would not be right in the way of the pikemen preventing their charge. (What he did not know was that the foe did indeed have 'something up his sleeve'!)

Greenskin magic proved pathetic. Guldar’s crc shaman killed only one man at arms with Gork’s Warpath, then got stomped on himself and was left almost dead! No more magic could get through. The Sspear chukkas, however, did what magic could not do. Six men at arms fell to their two hits and Vekram suddenly found he no longer had to worry about where to advance - for he and his men were sent running away back down the far side of the hill.

Here you can see the men at arms running off between the ribaudequin and the longbowmen, while on the near side of the hill (the monastery scenery accidentally still removed to make space for the men) you can see the two rallied regiments of goblins …

… who had been - under Derkid’s instructions - attempting to set up a trap in which Derkid’s lads would hit the men at arms in their flank when they undoubtedly smashed their way through the raggedy pike block.

Now came the enemy pikemen’s trick. Just as Guldar thought they were prevented from charging by their foolish wizard, they used their commander’s skill at precision drill (T&G rule) to reform first …

… then launched a charge at Guldar and his rather surprised boar riders.

As battle was being joined there on the mercenaries’ right, Pholtus flew over the woods to the far side, while the knights rallied and reformed in the rear. Of course Vekram rallied his men at arms, for none of the veterans were exactly sure why they had run in the first place. Still, six men skewered and torn in two by huge bolts was a sight novel even to them, and had been a little unnerving.

The mercenary wizards’ magic fizzled, while the ribaudequin’s impressively loud blast unimpressively killed on pirate orc. Derkid’s goblins where now hit hard by a mortar grenado, with ten of his gobbos perishing as a consequence. And as their dying screams went up, the last of the pair of rock lobbers succumbed to another cannon ball and one of the spear chukkas was finished off by the crossbows. All in all a good round of missile fire from the mercenaries. 

But it was the hand-to- hand fight that was to make the real difference. One boar rider fell to the massed pike tips, and the condottieri captain was bloodied by Guldar, but the orcs and boars failed to harm anyone else in the block of pikemen and as a consequence, broke and ran! Luckily the pikemen could not catch them.

(Important note: After the game Vekram realised we had done this combat wrong. We gave the orcs and boars -2 WS due to the phalanx rule, thus their very bad showing in the combat BUT ‘phalanx’ only works when charged, not when charging. Oops! In the end, however, you will see how it did not affect the game too much, and how we also came up with a way of compensating for this error at the end of the game.)

Last part to follow when I have the time!
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline Uryens de Crux

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole
« Reply #56 on: October 13, 2010, 07:05:19 PM »
(OOC - I forgot loads of stuff for my army, like my Men at Arms had a ward save to warmachines amongst other stuff, I blame it on the uncontrollable sneezing I was experiencing)
We go to gain a little patch of ground that hath in it no profit but the name.
The Free Company of Solland

The Barony of Wusterburg

Offline Padre

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole
« Reply #57 on: October 16, 2010, 05:41:45 PM »
You were ridiculously sick that day, I have to admit!

Final instalment

Of course the big 'uns and chariots now smashed into the pikemen’s flanks, while Guldar Bestbasha rallied his riders and reformed.

The two goblin shamans were joined by the pirate orcs and Derkid’s gobbos in turning their attention on the wizard Pholtus ….

… but once again the greenskin magic fizzled and sputtered and failed to manifest in the material realm, and when the three pirates discharged their pistols they all missed the slippery little wizard. Elsewhere a pair of men at arms and a knight were killed by somewhat heavier artillery fire.

While the last big orc foot regiment tried to squeeze by the fight to threaten (or distract) the reformed knights, the chariots managed to fell only two pikemen upon impact. Five more pikemen fell to the attacks of big uns, boars and charioteers, yet only one big 'un was killed. These pikemen proved a steadfast bunch, their numbers and ranks giving them confidence, and they fought on.

The knights now decided they would not wait for the orcs and attempted to charge them. But their sturdy steeds must have been tired from all the activity so far and the lance-wielding nobles (even though their magical Rampagers’ standard should have spurred them on unnaturally) failed to reach their target.

Pholtus used his flying carpet to escape being surrounded by greenskins large and small, mundane and magical, and landed himself near the hill so that he could see the orc shaman and Guldar’s boars. Vekram now signalled his surviving pistoliers to join him and his men at arms in making a move to the right, where the pikemen and knights were fighting the real battle. This meant field on the mercenaries’ left become a battle between missile troops: arrows, quarrels, spears and balls flew back and forth. Indeed eight goblins fell to the crossbowmen’s volley, yet strangely the little green fellows chose to stand their ground even in the face of such punishment!

A mortar grenade fell smack bang on top of Derkid’s bunch, tearing eight of them apart, but not harming the shaman also caught in the blast. These goblins, through some strange new species of courage, also chose to fight on. An orc also succumbed to the blast of the ribaudequin, though the crew were disappointed to see such a limited effect.

The mercenaries’ magical assault now hit hard - with an amber spear killing three orcs and Melkoth’s Mystifying Miasma drastically affecting the fighting skills and perception of Guldar and his lads. (Note: Until now, I had not realised Throne of Vines was bolstering a bunch of spells, and so I had not been trying to dispel it - something which would have been a much better use of my poor casting dice rolls.)

Of course the pikemen’s fight continued, five more mercenaries dying to the swish of heavy bladed spears and choppas, with a few chipped splinters of wood torn from a chariot in return, then the big ‘uns champion was slain by captain Johannes Tierman, commanding the pikemen. Still the pikemen steadfastly stood their ground, even though they could see that Guldar was signalling his own large body of boar riders to charge the pikemen too (admittedly somewhat dizzily due to the effects of the spell) .

In they went, nevertheless, with Guldar’s monstrous boar at their head …

… and even though they were weakened by the spell, Guldar still managed to slay Johannes with his first flurry of earth shattering blows. Eight more pikemen perished at the (green) hands of their foes, while only two of the boar riders fell to the thrust of pikes. (The pikemen were still, amazingly, steadfast - but it wouldn’t help them - they rolled 11!) Such harm was too much for the mercenaries who had lost their captain so bloodily - at last they broke and ran. They were, of course, run down in a brutally efficient manner.

Just as Guldar was winning this fight, the orc foot soldiers charged headlong into the faltering knights, but they could do little to penetrate the layers of steel that garbed each man and horse. Seven orcs died…

… which was just too much for even the battle hardened orcs to stomach. Even as Guldar and his battle wing of boars prepared behind to face the knights …


… the orcs broke and ran and the knights came crashing on to hit the foremost chariot.

This proved easy to defeat, being already damaged and virtually a stationary target for the steel-tipped lances. The knights thus now crashed into Guldar and his boars behind. This was indeed turning into the decisive melee of the battle, though events were moving on elsewhere (the goblin archers finally fled when another seven of their number succumbed to the mercenary crossbows).

As the knights hit home, the last pair of big 'uns and the last remaining boar chariot counter-charged simultaneously into them.

‘Bash ‘em Lads’ was successfully cast upon Guldar and his gang, while the last spear chukka tore through the ribaudequin’s body to damage the machine beyond (battlefield) repair.

The fight was hard indeed, even though the chariot's impact failed to have any affect on the foe. Striking first (blessed with a magical dexterity) Guldar struck down the knights’ champion, hewing his head dramatically from his shoulders to send a spray of blood into the air. (1 overkill.

Yet the rest of his lads simply could not pierce the knights’ polished steel cuirasses. Two boar riders fell as well as a charioteer, while three knights tumbled to the ground as their mounts were gored and killed by the boars and speared by a charioteer. Somehow the knights found the spirit to fight on. (Note: I forgot the boar riders had +1 strength to their choppas and Guldar’s ‘sharp choppas’ T&G rule would have put the enemy at another -1 to their armour save. If I had remembered, a few more knights would surely have died!)

While the cannon destroyed the spear chukka, all the mercenaries other missile and magic caused not even a scratch upon the greenskins.

The fight between the knights and the boars went on, but although a pair of boar riders died, and the condotta captain Konrad von Aver was wounded by Guldar (his sacred shield of Myrmidia negating all three of the monstrous boar’s attacks), neither side could break the other.

Vekram stood watching, pain writ clearly upon his face. He was just too far away to intervene as his knights were being slowly (but surely) hacked down.

Game Over, end of turn 6 Result = 827VP : 837VP, a draw![/I]

BUT because of the mistaken use of 'phalanx' earlier, slowing down the orcs’ defeat of the pikemen, we realised that the fight against the knights should have begun a turn earlier, and thus - if I also remembered to apply 'sharp choppas' in that extra turn - the chances were that in a corrected version of the game the knights would certainly have perished by the end, along with their captain, while Vekram would have been no closer to reaching the foe. Thus my opponent conceded defeat and gave me victory! Hurray! And thank you, Vekram.)


As Guldar and his lads cut down the last of the knights, Vekram de Crux could see it would be insanity to fight on and so fell back to the little redoubt of longbows, cannons, mortar and crossbows on the far side of the field. From there the mercenaries slowly withdrew from the field - unhindered by the greenskins, for they were busy looting and celebrating and entirely unwilling to ride into the hail of missiles that would surely greet them if they pushed the mercenaries any further.
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Offline Padre

  • Pure of Heart
  • Posts: 3623
Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole
« Reply #58 on: October 16, 2010, 06:41:53 PM »
IMPORTANT Note: In the four posts that follow several (large) sections were written by other players in the T&G campaign. They are thus not my work. I have inserted these as quotes. If the players in question do not want them here, please PM and I shall remove them, but I think most have already said, or indicated otherwise, that it is ok.

Inside a tent in the camp of the Compagnia del Sole

“Are you sure this is right? This is what is best?” asked Captain Niccolò Forteguerra

Captain Frederico Matallesta was not in the mood for elaborate explanations and long-winded justifications. As far as he was concerned the officers had agreed before, and now he was acting upon that agreement. This was not the time for them to change their mind.

“Yes,” he answered. “You agreed before, and I took you at your word. Condlumar is not a worthy employer, and he will lead us to ruin. This much is plain to see. Tell me now, will you go through with this?”

The younger captain did not show any sign of agreement. Instead he cast a questioning look at the other man there, sergeant Zacharie. When he said nothing, simply fixing him with his own stern stare, Niccolò spoke again. “I know what they say Condlumar has done. But there is no proof - other than his grief and his angry bursts.”

Frederico laughed. “Ha! You think I care what he is accused of? You have misunderstood. We must look to the Compagnia’s future, not the high priest’s. Every man amongst us wants for pay, yet this high priest would lead us on some foolish charge into oblivion. He would have us fight a foe we need not fight, for no pay, to be certainly overwhelmed. The Despot, however, will pay us. He would not throw us to the lions simply to satisfy his own grief. We all know we should not have let Condlumar take general Villeteschi’s place. It is not for this priestly employer to command us this way. Villeteschi would not have let him do so.”

“But …” began Niccolò.

“No,” interrupted Frederico. “No buts. Tell me now, are you with us?”

Niccolò bowed his head for a moment, then with conviction this time, said, “I am with you.”

“Good. Then listen carefully, this is the plan …”

Later that night

It was Niccolò’s job to draw Condlumar’s son away, as well as those other men who were so often at the high priest’s side. Thus it was that he approached Pilocomini even as the young gentleman’s father was talking with the captain of his men at arms a little distance away.

It didn’t take much to lure them away. There was no need for cunning, or persuasive words, or even lies. All it took was the promise of wine and a little repast - which is what they would get - and the men came away easily. It never occurred to any of them to distrust the noble standard bearer.

With Condlumar himself, however, was a man who would prove much more difficult to deal with if he was not suitably distracted - Captain Giacomo Pigitliano.

Frederico had considered this, and thus it was that the Brettonian sergeant Zacharie stood close by making a show of voicing some concern over the camp’s palisade defence.

“Any damned fool can see that this could be easily removed. The stakes are not set deep enough - this is nought but the illusion of defence.”

Then, as if only just noticing Frederico for the first time, the sergeant called him over. “Captain, you must tell these fools that this work is shoddy, that it must be redone. Look here …”

Frederico was already on his way over.

With little reason to remain there, and no desire to become involved in the soldiers’ concern over fencing, Condlumar began his walk back to his own pavilion. Already the conspirators were moving in …

… led by the full plate armoured Alberino, Fredrico’s own personal guard and a man renowned for having faced many perils in battle.

The trick, you see, was how to subdue a battle priest such as Condlumar. He had proven that he was not afraid of a fight, for he had gone into battle with the Compagnia del Sole twice, removing the bones of Castriccio della Scara even while Ogres were being killed all around him. And he could wield cruel and terrible battle magics, something nearly all in the Compagnia had seen.

So to capture him would take cunning, skill and a lot of nerve. And Alberino, a man who believed that there was no substitute for a sharp blade, the prowess to use it well, and a suit of full plate. Men such as that were thought to quell the effects of magic, as if they had about them the same sort of aura that dwarfs were renowned for.

In the end, and though there was a moment that it all looked as if it might go badly, Condlumar proved more malleable than the soldiers had expected, more even than they could have hoped. It seemed to Frederico as if the old man had no fight left in him, and almost welcomed events. (Or perhaps no longer cared.) He had indeed noticed that a change had come Condlumar ever since the news of Lord Silic’s death had been brought to him. But even before that, there was something odd about his behaviour, foremost being the way the goddess and her church had gone from being his daily devotion to being almost forgotten.

Thus it was that Condlumar was led away by a route carefully planned beforehand, and guarded at all key points where witnesses might be encountered by soldiers loyal to Frederico.

Condlumar was quiet. He knew what the soldiers where doing, and why - he had suspected it for some time now. He had no real wish to resist, for a part of him wanted to meet with his accusers face to face, and he looked forward to defending himself before the Despot. The god Solkan, whom the Despot had cited as having jurisdiction over this matter, was a god of vengeance. And this had without a doubt been a matter of vengeance. It would be good to get to grips with a doctrine that simple, with strictures as clear as: “Never allow a wrong to go unanswered”.

He knew he was not in the wrong, how carefully he had chosen his words when he discussed with the foe and the Despot, and that Solkan was surely with him. How else had his enemy been so easily dispatched. Vengeance was done.

And if the men he was about to meet were stubborn in their denial of these facts, he cared not. He had done what must be done. His son was avenged. Solkan was satisfied. Now there was no more for him to do. He was ready for the end. 

Before long the little group were out of the camp and approaching that part of the area patrolled by the undead Legionaries of Lucius Valerius Maximus. The sense that they were being watched came long before the proof of it. Then, as they came to the pre-arranged spot, suddenly Maximus’ soldiers appeared.

Condlumar simply smiled. It would be a quiet walk, it seemed, to meet with the despot, and that suited him. Dead men were unlikely to trouble him with banter and questions. He would have the peace he needed to ponder his fate.

Before him a purple-cloaked skeleton carrying a vicious cleaver of a blade stepped forwards. Greaves hung loosely down from the man of bone’s knees, something which a living man might have found uncomfortable but would obviously not trouble this man. His helmet was of a strange and ancient design, bearing a spear like adornment. Somewhere in the back of his mind Condlumar realised that this was the ancient uniform of a centurion, the helmet having long since lost its decorative horse-tail.

The centurion beckoned with his gauntleted finger, and Condlumar walked on. The officers of the Compagnia del Sole watched as their employer was taken away. All were glad they were not in his shoes.

Quote from: Inarticulate
The Skeleton saluted in the ancient Reman army way which can sometimes still be seen in certain military formations that can trace their lineage back that far.

The Skeletal officer however did break the unearthly silence that tended to permeate the area around the soldiers of Lucius Valerius Maximus's Legion. Condlumar noted, even through his miserly state, his mind ravaged by war, loss and treachery that the words were spoken in a magical fashion and not of the necromantic way of which the undead are normally re-animated.

Titus Flavius Turpio, Dominus, Pilus Prior of the Second Cohort of Legio IV Felix Invictus.

Condlumar nodded slowly, his lined face bore a half-smile.

Gabriele Condlumar, High Priest of the Goddess Myrmidia you are arrested for heresy and treason to the great god of law Solkan Invictus and the throne of the Reman Empire. You are taken into my custody in the name of the Megas Domestikos and await trial by Inquisition.

A squad of Legionaries silently trooped into a formation to the side and behind Condlumar, their ancient weapons ratting, the sound of armour on bone. They had no need to take hold of the old man physically, for Condlumar was led away towards the city, the dead of night enveloping the little party into total darkness, the moons curiously blocked from shining their lights down onto the scene where moments before they had illuminated the camp of the Compagnia del Sole.

To the officers watching, the Priest seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness.

The Trial

They sent one guard to collect Condlumar from his cell, a man at arms of the College of Inquisitors garbed in the white robes traditional for the escort of a prisoner to a treason trial. The guard thus gave the appearance of purity, cleanliness - an agent of law and order, whereas the accused no-one was yet sure about.

Of course there was also the gaoler, a man who Condlumar had grown to hate over the last few days of his incarceration. This was a man who seemed never to cease his mumbling monologue concerning his woes and the corrupt ways of the world. The high priest had quickly grown tired of his mutterings, though as the fellow led him through the maze like tunnels of the dungeons beneath the Despot’s Palace, Condlumar gained an insight as to why the man was so aggrieved. He was obviously a prisoner too, as indicated by the ball and chain fastened to his wrist. This man must have been pardoned a punishment on the promise of serving as gaoler in the damp, dingy and disease-ridden dungeons. Maybe he had every right to complain?

Finally, both Condlumar and the guard slowed by the fact that the gaoler (who would not yield the keys he had) came to the outer door of the dungeons. Of course he had no key for this door, and so stepped aside and let the guard do the honours. As the door opened sunlight streamed in, dazzling the priest, and sending the gaoler into an apoplexic fit of laughing.

Condlumar could not help but smile at the thought that the man who had done nothing but complain for days, suddenly, and just as he was about to leave him, found something to laugh about. When the gaoler, however, saw the smile he fell silent and scowled. His ugly face then disappeared as the guard closed the door and locked him back into his miserable domain.

Several stairways later and Condlumar finally reached the chamber in which the trial was to take place. There stood his judge and jury. The former would be Valerius Lucius Maximus, Megas Domestikos of Remas, acting in the Despot’s absence as Imperator. Being what he was, which no living man could ever forget for the merest moment when in his fearful presence, he was surrounded by servants and guards of a most horrific kind. Spearmen guarded the door of the chamber, whilst three torch bearers carried aloft the myrrh-scented torches that were always burned at such trials.

One nervous looking gnome attended as a secretary, having already begun scribbling in a leather bound tome, while the Pontifex Maximus and his College of Inquisitors stood off to one side, each one hooded so that their faces could not be seen, their reactions would be entirely unknown by witnesses and accused alike.

Within moments Condlumar was led to his place, and immediately the gnome’s squeaky voice began reading the indictment.

“Gabriele Condlumar, high priest of the church of Myrmidia and Trantian by birth, you are hereby accused of heresy against the great god of law Solkan Invictus and treason against the throne of the Reman Empire, for the ordering of the assassination of Prince Silic von Petrova, Count of Morea & Prince of Trantio.”

The little blue clad figure lifted his bespectacled face giving the impression that he was looking to see if Condlumar was still there, and then continued: “How do you plead?”

Condlumar spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse from his confinement in his subterranean cell.

“Not guilty.”

There was complete silence in the chamber.

Condlumar was standing behind the little form where prisoners of more humble birth and office would be expected to kneel, often three or four at a time whilst verdicts were quickly read out. Behind him there was a stone chair which revealed by its form and adornment just what means had been used in the past to extract confessional statements from the accused. No-one there would think to use such a thing upon a man such as Condlumar, a high priest and a wielder of magic who might (perhaps involuntarily) release harmful magics into the room if he were so tortured.

Behind him stood two more of the College of Inquisitors men at arms. Although these were not garbed in white as was the knightly soldier assigned personally to Condlumar, they too had a very traditional role, for they were armed with the very blades that would be used to behead traitors. One bore a long sword, the weapon of used when a noble was to be beheaded. The other carried a large polearm with a heavy, curved blade - this being the instrument that would hack a commoner to pieces for just the same crime.

Next to speak was Valerius Lucius Maximus, and his authority-laden and terrifying voice seemed to suit the circumstances much better than the gnome’s high-pitched pronouncements.

“We have a long list of accusers, starting with the Despot Nikephorus III Monomachus himself. They all say you are guilty. You must explain yourself, high priest. You shall have what time you need. Prove your innocence.”

Condlumar now surprised the company, muttering something about needing a seat and then turning to climb the dais behind him and sit upon the manacle adorned, blood-stained stone chair. The members of the college wondered whether he did not care it was such a seat, or whether he was so distracted he had not even noticed.

For a moment he merely glanced around the chamber, as if studying for the first time who was in the chamber …

(A massive thank you to ‘MyrmidianMan’ for painting this image of Condlumar)

And then he began his speech.
« Last Edit: October 16, 2010, 07:37:10 PM by Padre »
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Offline Padre

  • Pure of Heart
  • Posts: 3623
Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole
« Reply #59 on: October 16, 2010, 06:43:49 PM »
The speech

Condlumar settled himself in the unusual chair, and a transformation came over him. It was as if he had been transported mentally to another place. As he spoke it became clear where that place was - for he sounded like a teacher at a tutorial lecturing to his initiates. It was also obvious he had extensively prepared for this moment.

“I am, and have been always, an honest man. Yet I am also a servant of Myrmidia, who teaches that cunning and misdirection are a vital part of war. It is very poor strategy indeed to show your hand to the foe, or the act so honestly before an enemy that they can take advantage of the fact to defeat you.

“Thus it is that I have been forced, over the last few months, to choose my words carefully, so that they are neither lies nor intelligence gifts to my foes. I shall explain….”

The high priest stopped abruptly, in fact so unexpectedly that a harrumph or two of surprise went up from the hooded jury. Then it became clear why he had halted.

“You there, master gnome, bring me the papers I have prepared.”

The little gnome grabbed at a pile of parchments and papers, and scurried across the court chamber to hand the bundle to Condlumar. There followed another moment as the high priest re-shuffled the sheets, stopping occasionally to send a disapproving glance at the gnome (presumably the blue clad servant was to blame for the papers’ disorder). Finally he spoke again:

“I shall begin with the first notification concerning the council of Remas:

Quote from: T&G admin
Announcement from the Council of Remas
By Order of the Leadership of the Cerulean league and the Vermillion Legion,
For the purpose of ensuring the best possible outcome of the forth-coming peace talks between the leadership of these two mercenary factions
There shall be a temporary cessation of hostilities for the duration of turn 11 between the Cerulean league and the Vermillion Legion

No Vermillion forces will attack locations controlled by the Cerulean league, and likewise the forces of the Cerulean League will refrain from attacking lands under Vermillion control until the conclusion of the Council of Remas.

Any breach of this order may result in the failure of the talks and the immediate dissolution of the Council.

“Thus I understood there was to be a cessation of hostilities. Well and good, I thought, though it was already too late for one man. For you see, and here again I have no intention of lying, I had already ordered the assassination of Lord Silic. A hostile act, yes, but one performed during a time of war, and so a legitimate time for hostile acts, and one ordered to put right (to a small degree) the wrongs done to me and my own by the Cerulean League.

“Before I go on with a consideration of what was said, let me pre-empt your questions. First I suppose you might ask how I can plead ‘not guilty’. That will become plain, but for now, keep in mind that the order was already given before notice of the council was made. Also you might ask Why Lord Silic? I would say the answer is obvious. My son, Prince Piero of Trantio, was murdered as we were forced from the city by the Cerulean forces. My city was taken from me. And Silic took my son's crown and set it upon his own head - revelling openly in what he had done. From that moment it was divinely clear to me that the League was my enemy, but Lord Silic my very particular foe.

“But I shall return to this matter. Now the wise words of his highness Nikephorus III Monomachus, delivered unto me before the meeting of the Council of Remas:

Quote from: admin playing the Despot
I shall re-iterate my guarantee of safe conduct. The priests of Remas have invoked the divine protection of Solkan the Avenger: any who violate the peace of Remas will suffer nothing less than total obliteration. Solkan is unforgiving and inflexible. Do not doubt his power. Nikephorus III Monomachus.

“At the time I considered these words carefully, and also my response. Solkan the Avenger had been invoked, and I saw immediately that this was a heavenly sign. I sought revenge for the evil done to me and my son. Solkan was the one god who would expect me to exact such revenge. He had spoken to me. And I saw too that I could answer truthfully, for the order for assassination was in the past, and I had no intention of ordering my armies (neither the Compagnia nor the other forces at my disposal) to attack the foe during the time of the council. Nor did I intend to harm any during their time a the conference. So I answered thusly:

‘There is no need for such threats in my case, for I have honour enough never to stoop so low. I am a true servant of the gods, and know full well what their displeasure feels like. Myrmidia has of late abandoned me, yet I stay loyal and pray daily for her blessing to be re-bestowed upon me.

Let the noble members of this grand council be undeterred by the lies spread by those who wish to see us fail before we even have chance to meet.

If I, who have lost my son and my city and the love of my god, can come to these talks to look for future peace and prosperity, then surely the rest of those invited can put aside fears created by the petty minded gossipers and spreaders of dissension.

Whenever leaders meet there will be talk of assassination and treachery, such is the nature of many (low) men. Our servants and subjects cannot all be as noble as us. Let us lead by example and show how men of honour can behave.’

“Consider the last part, which upon the surface may appear full of falsehoods. Not so, for once again I chose my words carefully. Low men do gossip - that is the truth. And men of honour behave honourably - thus my exaction of perfectly balanced revenge against the Cerulean usurper prince of Trantio for the death of my son.

“And so the council took place, and agreement was reached. When we were asked to voice our assent to the treaty, I chose my words even more carefully, yet at the same time was forced to risk revealing the deep truth behind the surface truth of my words. I answered: 

‘In so far as you are all honest men, who have never wronged me, I Gabriele Condlumar, High Priest of Myrmidia and chairman of the council of the Vermilion Legion, do hereby agree to the terms as presented.’

“Why did I speak so? Because in truth, and by right, my war against the occupiers of Trantio must continue, for by their very presence in my city, my palace, they had wronged me (never mind their alliance to my son’s murderers). I would not say that I would under no circumstances attack the Ceruleans, for that would be a lie. Thus my words.

Quote from: admin playing the Despot
‘Do not speak weasel words in a chamber sanctified by Solkan the Avenger, Priest!
If you agree to the terms, say so in clear and unambiguous language.’

“To this outburst I answered:

’I speak the plain and simple truth, uttering not one word I do not mean. I have yet to lie, and do not intend to. I say again, if you be honest men you can trust me. If you wish me to call you liars before I accept your terms, then the terms themselves would be ridiculous.

The gods can be capricious, but it is not for the Despot, a secular ruler, to decide when they are and when they are not. He would make himself ruler of the gods. I am a high priest of the church of Myrmidia, and a servant to the gods.

If you wish to tear down the treaty by claiming to misunderstand my words then it would be proof that you never intended to see the terms through. Are you so shifting as to say "Oh, you used words that expressed the need for our own honesty, that's annoying for we intended to lie. We take back what we offered." If so, then it is you who speak in 'weasel' terms.

In what way is it, or ever it shall be, appropriate to speak to a high priest in such a manner? And on a much more base level, in what way would you expect the father of a murdered son, and an exile from his own city to answer? You think I should say: "I do not care if you are honest, I still agree."

I stand by my words. You have my agreement in so far as you are honest men. If you say this is not good enough then you are declaring yourself liars.’

“I then looked with barely concealed disgust at those who had spoken against me. I could feel the fire burning within my eyes as I suppressed an anger that threatened to burst from me. Yet even here in these last words I risked revealing the truth openly. I spoke of my murdered son and my own exile. I could not help myself - speaking letting more of the truth spill from my lips that I intended!

“And so the council ended. And so Silic, the foul usurper died. An act of war against an enemy who gloated at those he had defeated by wearing a dead son’s crown. And so the charge of treason was brought against me.

“First the despot spoke of treason …

Quote from: admin playing the Despot
’The Cerulean League have brought serious charges against you: that you did commission the murder of Silic of the League.

I give you this chance to defend yourself against this allegation. Swear before Myrmidia and Solkan that you did not do this deed.’

… and so I answered:

‘Your Highness, Nikephorus III Monomachus

You must name my accusers, otherwise the indictment cannot be considered legal. I shall not be goaded into defending myself over such a base accusation if the accusers remain anonymous. Know this, your highness, these Ceruleans are enemies of our Legion, and would accuse you at the drop of a hat of some evil deed if they thought they could get away with it.

Do not let them lead you by the hand to disrupt the truce that we have. If I had commissioned Silic's death, then it would be a mere balancing of the foul deeds he has committed against me. Would you consider it nothing if your crown was robbed from you? Would you do nothing to right such a wrong?

I advise your majesty to find a way to dismiss these accusations, otherwise you will become a puppet in their hands, as they have tried to make me on many an occasion. There is a precarious peace just now, but it is only because it suits the Ceruleans for this moment in time. They would slit all our throats at the first opportunity if they thought it would benefit them in the slightest.

I have not the tiniest intention of considering my enemies in war, men who have merely made a truce with us, my judges. Such is a ridiculous proposition. Should I lay down arms on the field of battle and hand myself over to the foe because one of their men was killed in battle?

Consider what you ask before you make such demands of me. Consider the parties involved. And think not that Myrmidia, goddess of strategic war, would consider the death of an enemy general, howsoever brought about, a bad thing.

And in all this, I admit nothing. For I will not play their games.


“Nevetheless, even in the face of this good advice,  the charge was brought against me through the agency of Lucius Valerius Maximus - the indictment you have all already heard: heresy and treason against the great god of law Solkan Invictus and the throne of the Reman Empire

I now handed myself to dear Lucius’ soldiers and came to my cell here in the palace. Then began a torrent of hateful letters from Ceruleans who wished to heap more dishonour upon themselves, by claiming a new wrong ought to be done on top of their first wrong. I had avenged my son’s murder, and part way avenged the theft of my home, and hear they still wanted to tip the scales of wickedness once more and heap further injuries against me.

“I cannot expect you to listen to all their words, for it would take up too much of your time. Van der Kuypers, Count von Siegfriedshof, Dob van Dwi all clamoured to hold an illegal show trial. I shall read only one excerpt:

Quote from: Matthi Afblut
‘I, Count Isaac von Siegfriedshof of Istrien, Master of Morale of the Cerulean League, demand that High priest Condlumar will be delivered alive and in chains to myself on pre-arranged spot … we, the League, holds the right to extract punishment and vengeance as we see fit!’

”They claimed jurisdiction where they did not have it. They would so usurp the Despot’s authority, just as they had usurped mine and my sons.  By reserving the right to execute me themselves (as they put it) they were patently asking to kill me, not put me on trial. When they could not have that, they clamoured to be tourists at my trial. This too was not allowed (rightly so).

“This trial is being held to see if I broke a holy oath, and thus acted treasonably. I am on trial for the breaking of an oath made in the name of Solkan and in the presence of the Despot for the ordering of the death of Silic. Now I could have claimed that I cannot be tried by this court for I am a High Priest of the Myrmidian church and can be tried only by my peers or by Myrmidia herself. The priests of other churches are not my peers. Secular rulers are not my peers. Nor are allies. But I chose to respect the court, and to allow the jurisdiction of the ancient realm of Remas. I am thus able to present my case and show it to be honourable in all aspects.

“In summary I would present these facts:

“First, you have heard my words. I did not harm anyone during the time of the council. That harm had already been done by the contract put on Lord Silic, before I even knew of the council. 

“As for the charge of Treason, then I would ask against whom? I am not the despot’s subject, but an ally. Nor did the Despot ever pay me or my army. And even if he had, treason is a crime committed by a subject against his lord, not an employee against his employer. I am certainly not a soldier or servant of the Ceruleans, rather their enemy. Would you have me pretend my mortal foes are my friends, and give them my neck to cut?

”As for the matter of the oath, I have no concerns here. Solkan has smiled upon me.

“I am an agent of Solkan the avenger. I have brought swift justice to the murderer of my son, the usurper of his throne, and the thief of my city.

“I did so with the wit and wisdom gifted me by blessed Myrmidia. She has guided my hand in this most political war. A war of words and proclamations. A war of assassinations and vengeance.

“I killed Sillic, and in doing so I did no wrong, nor spoke any falsehood. My enemies assassinated my son whilst playing sly diplomatic games. Thus I was forced to join them not in a war upon the field of bloody battle, but in a war of words, spies and assassins. They brought this upon themselves. I played them at their own game.

“Praise be to Solkan for his justice. Praise be to Myrmidia for her guidance!”

With this last outburst, Condlumar ended.

Several moments of complete silence ensued, as everyone waited to hear what the judge had to say. It was his right alone to speak now, and to thus guide the jurors in their decision.

Quote from: Spiney
From the far corner of the room, among the Reman officials observing the trial the Konostaulos spat on the floor and muttered to those nearest,

"Traitor! He produces the evidence that he himself tried to manipulate the Despot into making himself an enemy of the League!

Faithless cur, he calls the League an enemy of the Legion, when days earlier he had signed his own name to a treaty of truce!

Countless Cerulean soldiers from all manner of places have been slain by the troops under his command during the course of this war, each of them the son of a mother and father, and yet he reserves the right to throw the peace of Remas into turmoil for his own petty vengeance, this is not the act of a noble lord, nor a priest, but a bitter and twisted old man. Would he welcome the blades of a thousand Marienburg widows, whose husbands fell at the seige of Commercio I wonder..."
« Last Edit: October 16, 2010, 07:39:29 PM by Padre »
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Offline Padre

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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole
« Reply #60 on: October 16, 2010, 06:46:07 PM »
Quote from: Inarticulate
The Pontifex Maximus watched the Priest of Myrmidia intensely during his impassioned speech. The self righteous fool! he thought with a sneer. The Solkanite was a tall man and elderly, his balding head showing the liver spots of age. The robes of his office, blood red and midnight black hung on his bony frame in what one would assume would be unflattering, but the High Priest of Solkan seemed to wear them with the majesty they were designed to create. A lot of effort had gone into creating that effect, money too.

Around him, the hooded Inquisitors sat silently, awaiting their master's rebuttal. Picking his words carefully in his mind, the ageing priest made to stand up but was caught halfway when the Basileopator himself rose from his seat, his skeletal frame impossibly able to make him stand upright. Caught in the curious position of half standing, half seated, the Pontifex slowly lowered himself down, hoping that none of his subordinates had noticed.

Lucius Valerius Maximus, silent as the grave - the Pontifex chuckled at the analogy - leant forward to the bowl of water placed on the stone table before him. The Priest had been wondering what the upstart undead bastard had put that there for, and the reality dawned on him with cold dread.

The Basileopator dipped his skeletal fingers into the bowl, slowly, and with ceremony washing his brittle and yellowing hands with the pure water. Drying them with a towel offered by the Gnomeish scribe, he turned towards the Pontifex and bowed his head, perhaps to the assembled clergy, perhaps to the sacred icon of Solkan raised up on the wall behind them.

With that simple gesture, the skeletal lord marched towards the exit, the great lacquered wooden door opening for him with the slightest wave of his hand. His two skeletal legionaries, his Equities Singulares fell into step behind him, the door slamming shut after them, the sound reverberating around the trial room.

The Pontifex could now feel all eyes on him, particularly those of the accused, Condlumar. The Solkanite cleared his throat and stood.

"I see clearly that you have not lied, but instead steered a very careful diplomatic course in your words - even to the point of almost speaking plainly concerning your justified hatred of Prince Silic of Trantio. If lying is a sign of treason, then such a label cannot be put upon you.

I see also that you have sought only rightful vengeance for a terrible wrong done to you, and you did so by killing not your master, nor servant, nor ally but an personal and public enemy. And the death of enemies in a time of war is to expected.

It also occurs to me here and now that all can see the dignity of your office. You are a high priest, a noble of Trantio and father to a prince. People will not forget this now, for you have shown that you are not a man to be wronged. You will seek suitable justice against those who wrong you, and you will fight your enemies tooth and claw.

I believe Solkan, the Almighty God of Law, the Avenger, Invictus Himself, has indeed worked through you. You may have wronged your allies in the sense that you disagreed with their truce, but you have been truthful to yourself and to Solkan.

I can see little Evil in you, Priest of Myrmidia and I speak for this assembly when I say that all charges made against you before you entered this chamber shall be dropped forthwith."

Condlumar showed no emotion at these words, the merest hint of a smile playing across his lips.

The Pontifex smiled maliciously. "However, a more recent accusation has come to light. You dare to mention another god's name in the prescience of Solkan Invictus! You sully this courtroom with the belief that another god is the Avenger's equal! Solkan will not stand for such a disgrace!"

Condlumar's face turned to stone, not the smallest hint of a smile now.

"You shall be taken to a place of execution where your head shall be struck from your neck in the prescience of the most Powerful of Gods, this will be an example that the will of Solkan the Avenger cannot be broken.

Take him away."

As the guards moved to take the Priest's arms by his shoulders, the tiny, squeaky voice of the gnome spoke up over the mumbling of approval from the assembled Inquisitors.

"My Lords, I have been instructed to present this letter at this very moment!"

The Pontifex Maximus sent the small creature a withering look.

Impatiently, "Get on with it, Gnome"

"At once, my lord!"

Quote from: Nikephorus III Monomachus
Lucius Valerius Maximus,

Now, to the matter of the trial of Condulmar: my agents in Trantio have informed me that Prince Silic is not dead. He lives, though he is lost in un-waking sleep and has a long road to recovery. Thus the charges against Condulmar are inaccurate and must be amended.

Given this new information, and the clear mental instability of the man, I ask you to exercise clemency. Offer him retirement to a quiet estate in the Reman Plains if he will step down from military command and from his office as high priest. Please explain the reasons behind this decision to the court.

Nikephorus III Monomachus.

The Pontifex sat quietly in his seat, seething with rage. What did it matter that this letter was presented at this time? The execution could still take place! He waved at the men-at-arms to carry on.

As their mailed fists closed on the priests thin arms, the door crashed open, the sound causing many of the assembled Solkanites to flinch in astonishment.

The slow beat of hobnailed sandals marching perfectly in step marched uniformly into the chamber, the squad of undead Legionaries led by the Basileopator himself, his armour shining golden in the torchlight.

The Men-at-arms froze. Mighty men though they were, legends had been told of the undead, and thee Guardians of Remas were particularly feared, many still remembered their butchering off the few Cerulean soldiers stationed in the city during the reconquest.

Lucius Valerius Maximus turned his eyeless gaze onto the soldiers who released Condlumar immediately before running from the room, their duty to Solkan forgotten.

The Pontifex, though trembling with fear stood turned his voice on the undead General "How dare you! You desecrate a holy trial of Solkan!"

Lucius' voice seemed to cut through the Priest's mind like a saw, every syllable sending pain coursing down his spine.

You are the one who desecrates my God, Priest. Now begone to your temple.

He glared at the assembly of hooded Inquisitors, their fear plain to see.

All of you!

The room was filled with the sound of velvet slippers scurrying across the chamber.

Lucius turned to Condlumar.

It seems your revenge has not yet been served, Priest of Myrmidia. Though in the interests of the state it never can be, know only that your every breath is revenge enough on those who wish you dead.

He looked to the Gnome.

Let it be known, scribe that the word of the Despot is to be un-challenged, that he is the voice of Solkan on earth and any who disagree with this judgement are to have the full fury of Vengeance unleashed upon them.

Quote from: Silic
The city of Trantio was overlooked by a thin, high tower in the center of the city. White light pulsed through the huge windows of the tower, creating a lighthouse, a beacon in the recovering land of Tilea. Chanting could be heard day and night, reverberating into noble houses and backwater slums.

A small bed was situated in the highest room in the tower, drenched in sweat and blood. Encircled by six members of the order of White Magic, a body convulsed and heaved under the thin blanket. Each movement of the chant brought more spasms and clenching of teeth. As the mages swayed, the bed shook across the marble floor. The body shuddered and stretched itself in all four directions, and after 5 days of light and prayer, the body fell motionless.

For some time, the city of Trantio was silent. The city has recently been in a flurry of activity, preparing everything for the delegates of the Golden Company and the Tyrian Guild. They were to bring peace this the ravaged land. A Vermilion representative was notably not attending.

Slowly, the eyes of the depleted and starving body opened.

It was like waking up in the middle of your deepest sleep; the body was paralyzed, unable to muster the energy to move, and you can't help but be fearful at your helplessness. The White Mages looked down on their lord with a measure of both satisfaction and surprise. A mage closest to the head poured a thin clear liquid into the body's mouth. Instantly, the corpse shuddered and relaxed. As the eyes closed, the mouth opened.

"Who?" said the body quietly.

"Condlumar, my lord."

"We will not leave Tilea."

"Yes, my lord. Lord Silic von Petrova, Silic the Attuned, Grand Master of the Knights of the Black Writ, Master of Diplomacy for the Cerulean League, Count of Morea, Prince of Trantio, Silic the Resurrected."


The Basileopator’s undead Legionaries led Gabriele Condlumar away. He said nothing, his expression blank, his reaction unreadable (if the undead had had a mind to read it!). Another journey through the place corridors began. The route, however, contrary to Condlumar’s expectations, took him upwards not down towards an exit. He realised he was being taken to a room where he might be held in rather more comfortable surroundings than his old cell.

Inside his mind his thoughts were racing. The guards and priests of the palace had conjured powerful enchantments to ensure he could not employ magical spells whilst a prisoner. To do so would be suicide, for he would have not control over the magical forces he might summon. The more he tried to force the winds of magic, whilst held within the curse, the more uncontrollable they would become.

But it was not this that occupied his mind, it was his circumstances. He had been ordered to retire, to relinquish his title as high priest of Myrmidia. Yet what surprised him most is that he did not seem to care. It was as if, what with the revelations of the trial and aftermath, he had lost his will, his way. His son was still dead, his home still in enemy hands, and the man he had paid 2000 gold to have assassinated (OOC: along with 200 more afterwards as a 10% tip to the ‘old man of the mountain’ - I bet I was the only player to do that!! A 2200 assassination!) was not dead. There had been no revenge. And now he was powerless, penniless. His armies had left him (his officers had handed him over as a prisoner) and there were no friends or servants left.

Ironically the only creatures left in the world who would do anything for him now were these undead soldiers of bone, opening doors, even assisting him on the stairs. The dead were his only companions. A crack suddenly seemed to course through his mind. Should he have tried to bring his son back? Should he have resurrected Piero so that his bones would walk at his side?

The crack grew wider until large enough that the few sensible thoughts he had left began slipping through it and out into the void.

Then he found himself in a room, a heavy door with a little barred window closing behind him.

There was nothing he could do. He wracked his brains, and all he could remember was that he was supposed to live in the countryside, tending a garden and supping wine and water. Was that it? Was he to yield all power, all authority, all pride and become an invalid old crone?

No, that would not do.

Outside in the corridor the skeletal legionaries were striding away from the room down the almost pitch black corridor (what use had they for light?) when suddenly the last one turned back to look at the door.

There was light pouring out of the little grill in the door, bright piercing light, as if a huge window had been un-shuttered in the room beyond. But there was no window there.

Some tiny vestige of curiosity kept the undead soldier there, staring at the window with spirit eyes. Perhaps to such vision the light was even stronger that it would appear to living orbs? For the light was magical, an outpouring of enchanted energy.

Then, suddenly, the light grew violently bright, and burst through the door to wash down the corridor in a violent wave of almost physical power.

The legionary’s bones unknitted and he fell into a heap upon the stone floor. Those behind him did the same, as did about eighty more upon this level of the palace as the light leaked and spilled through the corridors and open doors.

An agonised cry was heard, but it came not from any skeleton. It burst from Condlumar’s throat in the moment of his death. The sound of true anguish and grief, the dying wail of a wholly defeated, utterly bereft man.

When finally an hour later the Despot’s living servants found the source of the disturbance, they discovered only a charred corpse, wisps of grey hair still attached to his blackened chin. 
Photobucket has now re-destroyed my pictures, so the first half of my collected works thread is no longer working again. To see my website version of the campaign thread, with fully functioning pictures, please go to https://bigsmallworlds.com/

Offline WallyTWest

  • Posts: 1031
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Re: Condlumar & the Compagnia del Sole
« Reply #61 on: October 22, 2010, 06:46:06 PM »

Um... what happened next? (Runs over to T&G)
It’s all about Renaissance Punk.