After consulting his superiors via hat, Sir Pottingham was willing to sign a simple non-aggression pact, with penalty of immediate disbandment of any unit to break it, one of the few binding punishments that barbarians can agree to. Tanya never found the time to learn signamancy, but one of her wands was a large novelty pencil that could write binding agreements that had simple, direct terms and short durations. In this case, four turns, one more turn than they needed to pop the replacement knights.
It was hardly ironclad, there were plenty of loopholes in such a threadbare agreement, but it was sufficient to allow for some trust to be extended on both sides. Their ships were allowed to remain in the harbor zone, and Sir Pottingham was allowed to bring a stack of assistants with him to the negotiating table.
One side effect of being so far away from their original side was that the culture around taking tea was just slightly different. If it wasn’t for the Royal special dripping the relevant knowledge into her head, she counted at least two faux pas that she would have made by using the rules in Jetstone’s court, specifically: you poured the milk in the cup before the tea, and when seated at a table the saucer remains on the table.
“Now, this tea is from the city of PorkSir, it’s a favorite of Admiral Spiffin, who was my mentor.” Sir Pottingham explained, enthusiastic on the topic of tea. “A perfectly balanced flavor with no exploits.”
Tanya nodded politely. “It’s quite nice.” She said, before sensing an opportunity to get to the point. “Now, as for the matter at hand: our purpose here is simply to replenish our numbers before re-stacking and moving on our way, and we need only three more turns of production to do that. If nothing else, we can simply rest and relax for the amount of time necessary to do that, we’ll be off the island before the pact expires.”
“Hm, her Majesty won’t be happy about the delay,” Sir Pottingham said, “But perhaps we could come to a more equitable arrangement.”
It would be incredibly difficult to get better than ‘accept small inconvenience, everyone walks away peaceably’, given that the uncivilized alternative equates to massive losses on their part, but Tanya still held enough cards that she didn’t feel threatened by them. Besides, the non-aggression pact means they’ve already won that much.
“What did you have in mind?” Tanya asked, sipping once more at the tea. It was quite good tea. Tasted a little bit like bacon.
“Her Majesty is of the opinion that the situation on the Continental is turning into something undesirable.” Sir Pottingham explained. “However, the diplomatic situation is rather… precarious.”
Ah, they need a deniable asset. “We are not only capable of independent operation, it is preferable to us to do so.” Tanya said, a conspiratorial smirk on her face. “What’s the situation?”
“I shall start with a bit of history,” Sir Pottingham began, which was appreciated. “In the past, the Hopback dynasty has been sowing their oats among the local area. About two thirds of the local royalty draws lineage from them. However, it is only recently that His Majesty William Helmet absorbed a few other sides and declared himself Emperor of all the Hopbacks, by the Kind Sir Right.” After seeing Tanya’s confusion, he explained: “It was something the original Hopback King, whose name has been lost to time, implemented to reduce fighting among his descendents. A side with five capital sites will allow a King to declare themselves Emperor, which remains once they split off subordinate sides.”
Tanya spent a moment trying to remember if the word ‘Hopback’ was something in her old world. With a tiny expense of juice, she rifled through her normally forgotten memories. Oh, it’s a beer brewing thing.
“Now, one of the groups that took offense to this was The Lederhosen Entente, a three-side alliance that formed in response, composed of NordVPN, MeetBall, and Coorsway.” He continued, “So some posturing and a small invasion was had. The Empire… invaded back.”
Tanya nodded. Everything seemed pretty normal. “So what’s the issue?” She asked, taking one of the small cakes the other warlord had brought with the tea and eating it.
“NordVPN has been absorbed almost entirely, with only their hidden remote capital site remaining. They have some kind of grand magic that’s keeping that capital site hidden.” Hm, if she ever got a discreet capital site, using NordVPN’s trick would help keep it protected… Sir Pottingham continued, “In short, the Empire is winning. If they succeed and are allowed to consolidate their gains, our own security will be in danger. A disunited and squabbling Continental is critical to our side’s secure position as the Master of the Sea.”
Hm, that did explain why her scouts were feeding her some images about modifications made to their ships. Screw propellers at the back… Did they have a turnamancer improving their ships? “So you think that Emperor Will Helm could use some raiding to distract him from his conquests, then?” Tanya asked, deliberately shortening the ruler’s name for her own amusement. Not meeting many new people for so long can make one forget how much everyone’s names are puns or references she can only sometimes understand. Wait, was that a crumb on her chin? Drat.
“We understand each other.” Sir Pottingham said in agreement. “Anything that keeps the Continental sorts focused on each other and not on Albinny is useful to us.”
“Assuming we can come to an accord on price and support, that is agreeable.” Tanya said, daintily wiping her mouth and chin with the napkin.
“In that case, we should adjourn so that I may be advised, as I am not authorized to make payments large enough to cover your force’s upkeep, much less anything more.” Sir Pottingham said, preparing to leave the room.
“My starting proposal is triple upkeep, which would be approximately seventy-five thousand shmuckers a turn, with a minimum contract of twenty turns, and full looting rights, taking as much as I can carry.” Tanya said, glancing at the rest of the cakes but refrained from taking one, knowing it would be rude to eat another so soon. “I can contact my good friend in the Glade of the Hippiemancers to create the contract.”
Sir Pottingham sputtered. “Outrageous!”
“That price comes with full discretion, of course.” Tanya said, waving off his concern. “There will be no alliance, and as far as anyone else would be aware, my forces are merely marauding barbarians of unusual strength, razing and pillaging to sustain ourselves. My associate will use the utmost caution in making contact.” After a beat, she added: “That price also assumes the bare minimum of support, that is, your maps of the relevant terrain, to the best of your side’s knowledge. I’m taking a lot of risk, here. That risk requires a commiserate reward. If you took steps to mitigate that risk with additional support, such as more detailed intelligence, lighter terms could be negotiated.”
“Still, that’s one and a half million shmuckers…” Sir Pottingham said, frowning.
“Take that offer to your Queen or Chief Warlord and/or Caster, let them make the decision.” Tanya said, staring at the nobleman with intent. “That is merely the start of negotiations.”
“...Very well.”
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As it turned out, Queen Virginia decided to handle things personally, through an extended conversation via notes passed via their respective crowns.
“I love your ink!” She wrote in her latest missive, accompanying it with a little smiley face. “Where’d you get it?” Below the question was another counteroffer, detailing the quantity of juice that would be reserved by their Lookamancer, Sir Eric Blair, for Tanya’s discretion as support. Oh, the conversation had lasted long enough for sidebars? Excellent.
She’s trained for this. Drawing on memories of texting, she waved her wand across the pages and let the ink take shape according to her mental image. “It’s a magic pen. (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ”Giggling to herself, she added: “It makes the ink for me. ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ" If you want your own, I’m sure you could get a dollamancer to make you one. Sadly, mine was lost with my side. A changemancer would likely also suffice.” Below the informal exchange, Tanya outlined yet another counteroffer. They’ll reach an agreement soon, she thinks.
“Your drawings are so cute! (^-^)” Queen Virginia replied, giving her own approximation of a Japanese-style emoticon. “No one else ever writes them back to me… (;-;)” Underneath, were a complete set of terms, with only minor changes.
“No one? o(〒﹏〒)o How rude.” Tanya wrote back, almost wishing she had one of those eyebooks that Maggie told her about… but they weren’t secure against Charlie, so it was for the best that she didn’t. She took a glance to the harbor, where the Queen’s sailors were still moored. “Those terms are acceptable btw. (⌐▨_▨) Mission will begin in two turns, as agreed.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Okay bestie, now that the official stuff is over… Tell me: was Prince Ansom as dreamy in person as he was reputed to be? (0-o)” Was that supposed to be a raised eyebrow?
Tanya took a moment to think about the man. As before, there wasn’t any kind of foreign emotion, no fluttering heartbeat or anything at the thought of the objectively handsome man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) He was stupid!” Heh. Tsun-tsun…
“Oho?” Queen Virginia send back alone, followed by another paper. “Does the Princess protest overmuch, perhaps?”
Ansom had often commented on the value there was in speaking with other rulers on a personal level, as it allowed one to speak with someone who you did not hold power over, which was very refreshing, in his words. As in a lot of things about being a ruler… he was right.
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So as it turned out, the area in question was known as the Continental Break, a land riddled with chasm hexes that complicated land travel. Thus, in the Continental Break, fast fliers were valued moreso than in other areas.
The chasms noted that the place could be subdivided into fourty-two regions, and the Empire controlled twenty-nine of them. It took a while for Tanya to get a straight answer on what their side was actually named, but apparently it was called McBethlefuck, and even that had to be written down instead of spoken aloud, with the last four letters censored. Apparently, saying the name of the side that she will internally refer to as McBeth (and even saying that much out loud was seen as bad luck) was taboo, some kind of Signamancy nonsense. It’s not like she was capable of saying it aloud herself, because the stupid Perfect Warlady spell made her instead say ‘McBethleboop’. So everyone just calls it ‘The Empire’ now.
So her task was to distract the Empire from their material acquisitions, to assail them. Albinny was off of the eastern coast of the Continental Break, fast ships being their primary method of defense. The Lederhosen Entente were stationed to the south of Albinny, but they included chunks of land that were connected to the Empire, although those were most of what was already conquered, numerous port cities along that part of the coast to allow the Empire to issue more seamen and the ships that occupy them, most importantly more warlords with Seafarer, as while they don’t exclusively pop in coastal cities, you’re not going to staff your officer core with dumb luck.
Now, Tanya wasn’t alone in this mission: The neighboring side of Toadarm was already invading from the north, and there was some sabre-rattling with the side of Rush to the south. The other sides in the area, particularly the ones in the west, were weak and easily bullied by the grand Empire. They also served to be additional obstacles, as crushing the Empire did no good if it just meant that either of those sides rise to take their place, particularly as neither of the sides were Royal-led anymore.
All told, the Continental Break was about twelve hundred hexes across and eight hundred wide, which meant that it was large enough that finding secure bases and only sallying forth from them was impossible. But perhaps… Hm.
“So this is a chasm hex.” Visha said contemplatively as they hovered over the hex in question. It wasn’t bottomless or shrouded in darkness, as Tanya had expected, but instead it was just a canyon, with a bunch of bedrock with a small river at the bottom. “What are you thinking?” She asked.
Tanya tilted her head. “I’m going over my inventory of wands in my head, and… I think we can make a hidden base in the cliffs.”
Visha, as her primary assistant, had helped her organize her inventory, so she thought about it. “We could look for caves with that Lookamancy wand.” She suggested.
“True.” Tanya acknowledged, although it wasn’t really for that. It was more for looking for hidden threats. “Or we could use the digging wand to make one.” That particular wand was probably the most versatile of her wands, as it essentially endowed her with the Digging special, and allowed her to spend juice instead of move to execute the digging. Given how much she drilled her digging troops, which was a large reason that they were able to force Charlie to enter their fortified hex in order to attack it, meant that she understood how far that could be stretched.
Visha frowned. “Would that avoid the normal move penalties?” She asked, scratching her head.
“If we leave the cave open to the air, I think so.” Tanya said, thinking carefully about the interaction between underground spaces and the flying special. The penalty could definitely be worth it, particularly if she puts in extra work and makes a bunker… but if it could be avoided? All the better. “I can use foolamancy to conceal the entrance.” A simple concealment of the entrance should be within her skill without much issue.
“Are we still going to wipe out that fortified position on that bridge?” Visha asked.
Eh? Tanya took a moment to go over the math in her head. “...Yes. Even with the move penalty, we can hide five hexes down the chasm from the bridge, with a bit of help from the turnamancy wand.” Sure a low-powered wand like the kind Elya could make can only transfer move between units that are of the same type, but that was enough for her.
Now, for the first move of her new job.
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[Joshua von Canaan, level 5 warlord]
Life was terrible. After five hundred turns of drilling and holding Jericho pass, now that the damned Toads are positioning to invade, here comes Prince Ceasar Salad, taking his command along with the admittedly welcome reinforcements.
If only he wasn’t so… irritating about it. Caesar isn’t even an heir! But he was a level 7 warlord, so that bonus would be sorely helped.
Besides, Caesar also came with a few interesting accessories. Joshua once more disassembled the pistol, cleaning it with a rag, and re-assembled it within a minute. Only the warlords were issued these new weapons, and after touching one… war becomes a very different thing. They didn’t have a lot of bullets for them, so they’ll have to use them carefully, ensuring that only high value targets are croaked, but the idea of personally croaking enemy warlords, or heavies, even casters is intoxicating. Even if his most likely target will probably be knights. It wouldn’t do to fail to croak something due to being overly concerned about preserving that ammunition, after all.
Holding this pistol felt right. No, not just right… Righteous. Like he was meant to be holding it, to croak the enemies of the Titans. It was his Fate.
Natural chokepoints from mountain passes, rivers, and chasms served a similar role that Walls did: they reduced the capacity of a defender to croak their attacker, but it did an even better job protecting the defender from that attacker. Frequently, if the chokepoint was fortified enough, the turn would end before the attacker could even finish breaking through the hex, allowing for further reinforcements to arrive.
On top of that, in the case of rivers and chasms, no amount of digger units would help, as going under the bridge would just lead to drowned or fallen units. Chasm hexes were exceptionally dangerous, falling damage nearly always resulted in croaking when one fell into a chasm. You had to either fly or be tunnel capable to traverse a chasm hex by going down to the bottom without triggering fall damage, and in the case of chasms with rivers, like this one, not even tunnel capable units could cross it.
Now, in order to take advantage of a natural chokepoint, there was a need to maintain a certain number of units, enough to physically block the bridge’s exit in a battle, as once the lines get broken, the defensive benefits of the hex were moot and it was no different to fighting in an open field.
They expected action this day, as the scouts reported the presence of a Toadarm column approaching to go through their position. The work of the diggers, the erfwork fortifications that were meant to make things even more difficult for the enemy, were freshly remade, as the start of turn eroded that hard work. These were mostly to reduce the damage if the Toadies decided to start raining arrows from the other side of the bridge.
He was on cavalry duty, mounted with a stack of similar knights, all riding Bearwolves, which were units that had a transformation special that allowed them to shift between two states at night when they looked at the moon in the sky, either a swift unit with high offensive stats or a heavy one with higher hits and defense. They were in heavy mode right now, naturally.
All told, their defensive position wasn’t exactly the greatest the Empire could boast, but it was a respectable one. Seventy stacks of infantry, thirty of them archery to ward off the limited fliers the Toadies can muster, five stacks of cavalry, twelve ballista emplacements, seven warlords, and of course the five stacks of dorfs, the digging natural allies of the Empire.
As a proper soldier should be, they were ready for the Toadarm invasion the instant dawn broke. But… the sun did not rise from the horizon. It hung there.
…It was the barbarian turn. Now, this wasn’t something new; barbarian units popped often enough, and ones that popped near their chasm usually found it by means of following the distinctive terrain feature. But on this turn, of all turns? It was ominous.
Turn order was natural predictamancy, as even if the number of sides were just the initial 99, having 99 turns in one day would make actually taking turns nearly impossible. So any given unit could only sense a turn if there would be something that they could notice going on during that turn… to an extent. It was complicated, and Joshua didn’t pretend to fully understand it, but it was enough for him to be on high alert.
Caesar didn’t seem to agree with that assessment, as when the perimeter sentries that he ordered to watch all the hex boundaries and even the skies started to blow their horns, the Prince was still reading some letters that had come in for him via hat overnight.
He was the first to croak to a bullet in the brain. Well, he was in charge again.
“Titan’s toilet!” He exclaimed as he looked to the direction the bullet came from. That was what, two dozen stacks of flying knights, each armed with a gun? Not even a handgun, like he was, but full rifles! He had never seen so many barbarians in one place before!
Still, “Legions, form up! For the Empire!” He shouted, rallying the hex. “For Caesar!” The reminder of their prince croaking so ignobly stirred their spirits, and so they followed his instructions to continually restack as they took losses.
His words were useless, though. Bullets whizzed by him as the knights dispassionately used their out-of-hex archery to cut down the majority of the knights and cavalry units, using one full clip of ammunition each. The fortifications helped, preserving some of their forces, but they weren’t designed to protect against an aerial assault, only attacks from the bridge.
After they reloaded, their commanders had apparently decided that working around the fortifications and the out-of-hex archery penalty was too inefficient with ammo (or, at least, that’s why Joshua would order a charge after such a devastating volley) and entered the hex to finish the job.
Their leader was breathtakingly beautiful, the very picture of a princess who leads from the ballroom, not the battlefield, but her scepter crackled with shockamancy, the weapon seeming to be just as deadly as the rifles her subordinates held. He brought up his pistol and fired straight at her.
The bullet was stopped by a barrier accessory, but the look of shock on her face was priceless. “Jōnetsu-tekina ai no bakuhatsu!” She shouted, pointing her wand directly at his stack, which erupted in fire.
As the fire washed over his stack, his only thought was: it burned. He had never suffered fire damage before, and it felt… a little like his handgun did. Like it was his Fate to burn. His eyes were burned out of his sockets, enveloping the world in shadow. He fell down off his mount, and into the chasm, still clutching his trusty pistol, his Light Shining in the Darkness.
Ah, so this was it. He landed in the water, and to his shock, he was still alive to notice his hits drop down to 1. As a Noble, he had a stat bonus over other warlords, in his case he had a few extra hits. At level 5, this equated to 17 hits instead of 15. His mount and the rest of his stack took up most of the shockamancy, meaning he only lost 8 hits to the fire spell, but falling damage only dealt him 8 more. For a normal, short fall, this was a low but believable amount of damage. For a chasm fall? Absurdly lucky.
He was still going to drown, though. Or, at least that’s what he thought. As it turned out, there was a cave, which he immediately washed up in. He was dumbfounded as to how he could have survived, but he did.
After a string of luck like that, the Titans must have a plan for him. He’ll just have to do his best to do their work, then. Praise them.