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"I told you to watch your health, my friend." Montoya sighed. "Not even Hercules himself would have been able to do what you attempted after such an ordeal." "I could have sworn I was almost as good as new..." Cooke insisted, stretching his arms. "But perhaps one should listen to his doctor..." "Now, I am up, back in strength both physically and mentally - only to find my beloved country at war, and myself without a ship! Languishing at shore..." "Bah, you know perfectly well you will soon feel the deck under your feet again. The Royal Navy is ever in need of competent officers, and you have proven yourself many a time. A command will come your way." Montoya said in an attempt to cheer up his friend. "To be perfectly honest, I would take any plank that could float, even that old tub!" Cooke pointed to the ancient-looking, but elegant caravel docked at the quayside. "Oh, is she a warship? I took her for a merchant..." "What a fellow you are, Isaac. As you see, she carries nary a gun. She is the old 'Chester Castle', a trader out of Balondia. Altough I have to say, her master keeps her in an excellent condition!" _______________________________ A build for Westface, which will be licensed as a medium commerce for myself. The ship will be posted and licensed separately. Here you see the full build:

During the recent conflict on Terraversa, Cooke had been through quite an ordeal. Having landed in the dark of night at the center of an Oleonese insurrection, he gave himself in to the local authorities after failing to escape the settlement. Being subjected to a long and taxing interrogation, he was transferred to Kings Port in disgrace under accusations of being a spy, where he languished in jail, until the storm on Kings Port posed for him an opportunity to escape. Having travelled across wartorn Terraversa, and been on the brink of capture, he was finally found by his countrymen. After a short recovery, he returned to duty, assisting in the fortification of South Silitholina. Shortly thereafter, though, he had fallen ill with a malady most likely contracted in the dungeons of Kings Port, striking him down with a dangerous fever. Montoya had called upon his full medical facilities, but had feared for his friend. To avoid the spread of the disease, he had been isolated in the Pine Island Monastery, the very same place diplomatic talks was being held. "My dear friend, you are up and about! What joy!" Montoya exclaimed. "Truth be told, I had feared for your existence." And after a pause... "Young Baker and I have taken turns to sit at your bedside... In your feverish rantings, you said some rather... indiscreet things that we could not let others hear." "I thank you much for your attentions, Isaac. I am certain I owe my survival to your care and competence." Cooke stretched and sat up. "How long have I been indisposed? My body feels weak and spent." "Longer than I care for, longer than I care for. The squadron has sailed. The Greyhound has been passed on. You are still on Terraversa, and apart from the Lotus Empire, we are at peace." A look of dismay came over Cooke. "I am without a ship? I must have a ship! Glory will slip through our fingers if I cannot regain a quarterdeck!" "Calm yourself, my friend. You are not yet your old powerful self... Give it a few days..." Montoya tried to calm his friend. "I know for certain a ship has recently arrived in Westface without a captain, so no need to rush yerself." Picking up his uniform, hat, and sword, Cooke headed for the door, dressing hastily and motioning Montoya to follow. "A ship, you say! In such case, there is not a moment to lose! Time and tide waits for no man!" _______________________________________________________ After a prolonged absence I am returned! And for that, a suitable story an trying to recreate Ayrlego's awesome Pine Island Monastery seemed just perfect!

Terraversan Commonwealth Rum-Runners Part of the Fort Arltrees Foreign Merchants' District Close to the southern end of the Foreign Merchants' District, the East Terraversan commercial delegation represented the greatest surprise for most of the inhabitants of Fort Arltrees. Only three years before, Terraversa and Oleon had faced each other in a bitter war, and only the military intervention of Corrington and Eslandola -both on the island and in other areas of the archipelago- prevented a complete victory of the Empire of Light. However, while not completely defeated, independent Terraversa itself didn't survive the war. The eastern region of the island declared independence from the capital, in open rebellion against Archduke Oldis, giving rise to the Commonwealth of Terraversa. At the moment, the Commonwealth was struggling to recover from the war and, despite its dreams of freedom, it had de facto almost become a vassal state of Corrington. Allowing a commercial delegation of the Commonwealth on El Oleonda, together with the ferry built between North and South Sillitholina, represented an important attempt towards the normalization of the relations between Granoleon and Westface, even if doubts and mistrust still existed on both sides. An official Terraversan consulate in an Oleonese colony or formal trade agreements between the two nations was still far too much for both sides. Instead, an office and a small warehouse of a trading company represented a less "official" step, but still allowed some informal contact between the governments. If things worked well, an RNTC office might have appeared in Tarlor or Westface, in the future, breaking the almost complete monopoly of Corrington on the trade of the young nation. The name of the company, the Terraveran Commonwealth Rum-Runners, seemed appropriate for a band of smugglers... and actually it had started as such during the Mardierian rule, before the Terraversan Revolution granted it some respectability. Quite unsurprisingly, the acronym TCRR (with the "C" added after the Westface Secession) was often preferred, especially in official documents. The uniforms of the TCRR guards were clearly inspired by the ones of Corrish soldiers, even though their training was not even comparable with the one of Her Majesty's Royal Marines: with the militias still in place, even the regular army of the Commonwealth lacked men with military experience. A couple of soldiers guarded the entrance, while a figure in black slipped through the door, with an envelope of papers in hand. A simple merchant or someone else? An Oleonese diplomat? Or maybe a Corrish agent? The core business of the TCRR in Fort Arltrees -despite its name- was not Rum, but vanilla. The only known source of this valuable spice was Jameston, on Cascadia Island, but small vanilla crops existed also on El Oleonda. Due to the huge distance from the motherland, and the limited amount of production, Fort Arltrees couldn't compete with Jameston in this profitable business (not yet, at least), but the profit margin was still interesting. The TCRR office was small and overcrowded: bags and cases of vanilla pods occupied any available space, together with maps and piles of documents. The flintlock pistol on the director's desk, a memory of his past in the Terraversan Revolution, tended to make all the reports particularly fast and concise. Even though the Corrish influence was starting to take place in some aspects of the Commonwealth administration, the influence of Mardierian culture was still clearly recognizable: for example, in the overly decorated uniforms, or the baroque still-life painting hanging on a wall. Only time would have told whether the relations between the Commonwealth and Oleon could sooner or later normalize, or if the business of the TCRR in Fort Arltrees was destined to last. Profitable trade between two nations, sometimes, could be a good reason to avoid unnecessary wars between them! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The reason why the TCRR could only dispose of the lower floor was also the only reason why that small company could afford a place in the Foreign Merchants' District of Fort Arltrees. The reason had a name and a surname: Professor Alejandro Coronel, archeologist, writer, philosopher, and, as a hobby, occultist. This peculiar character was not interested at all in the vanilla trade, but had a desperate need to move on El Oleonda... something not easy, for a citizen of the Corrish-aligned Commonwealth. Therefore, he paid a significant portion of the settling taxes for the TCRR, and personally financed the construction of the building. In return, he occupied the whole upper floor and obtained from the company a passage to the island, as well as the promise to support him in all his future enterprises. The studio of this peculiar character was completely occupied by a variety of "findings": a variety of idols, ritual masks, maps, scrolls written in ancient languages, and many other objects. In an (apparent?) chaos, Atwi idols were positioned side by side with antiquities from Tellvok, Tyree'De artifacts, and ancient codices written by the first Mardierian explorers. Professor Coronel had heard about the ruins of an ancient city on El Oleonda, and hoped to finally prove his extravagant theory. Indeed, he firmly believed that an ancient civilization once existed in the East, far before recorded history: after ruling most of both the Old and the New World, that Empire had somehow disappeared, leaving mankind in the darkness for thousands of years. Even the Great Pyramids "of Tellvok", according to Professor Coronel, were actually an artifact of that ancient empire. How could all the other archeologists not understand this truth? Despite the plot of the Order of the Faith to conceal the truth, the signs were hidden in plain sight, if one just looked for them! Even the tarots, considered by many a senseless superstition, also told a part of the story... the Rising Sun, the East; the Broken Tower, a clear hint to the cataclysm that had destroyed the ancient empire. Little mattered if other symbols didn’t have an obvious meaning, all of them must have been in a way or the other allegories of the ancient disaster! Most of the academics laughed at him, but he would have proven all of them wrong! He only needed to find the proof of his theory somewhere in the archipelago, possibly even there on El Oleonda... the large islands of New Haven Seas were clearly part of the ancient continent, swollen by the merciless Ocean millennia before! He would have laughed last, he was sure… Even if most considered him a lunatic, and the TCRR guards hoped never to be chosen to accompany him in his expeditions (actually they had placed bets on how soon he would have disappeared in the jungle), Professor Coronel had actually done some important discoveries, down in Tellvok. Only time will tell if the Professor will be able to discover something about the ancient civilisation of El Oleonda, despite his weird theories, or if he will get lost in the interior. For sure, you will probably hear about him in the future!

While Oleon has invested heavily in their newly conquered territories in Northern Terraversa, Corrington's resources has been stretched in countering the Lotus threat to the far East. This has put Corlander investments in a rather unfavourable light, something L'Olius has not been late to remark, privately or publicly. "Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your new position, my dear friend!" Cooke beamed a bright smile. "Her Royal Majesty's ambassador to all of Terraversa - I would say that is quite the honour, and well-earned for your many years of service" Montoya, giving a polite bow to his friend, replied: "Indeed, indeed. An honour and a burden, but one I am very willing to take. However..." he sighed. "However, our resources are spread thin across the Brick Seas, and our support for the Commonwealth of Terraversa after the war has been a bloody disgrace!" Cooke spat out bluntly. "We have even removed most of the fleet East, leaving little to protect our interests in these seas!" "Might you not be slightly biased by the lack of a command for yourself, my dear friend?" "That is ENTIRELY besides the point!" Despite these words, Cooke did visibly calm down. "And have you not spent your time productively with the artillery and defences of the new Commonwealth, as well as training it's navy?" "I have, I have... But let me tell you this, Isaac, if I do not soon get a deck under my feet, I will go stark raving mad - not to mention that I will lose all chance of promotion!" "You are the most senior post-captain in the list...." "In Terra Nova, yes! Back home, the spit and polish crowd are caressing their interests with the Admirality and Royal Court, and I'll tell you this - at some point some upstart from a moneyed family will show up here, bossing me around. Some puppy, with little actual experience! Bossing me around!" The colour was rising in Cooke's face as he ranted on. "I am sure the rear-admiral will not let that happen, my friend." Montoya ensured his friend. "He holds you in high regard." "Yet I am left without a ship! Without even a barge to call my own!" "One will come, in due time, I have no doubt." Montoya turned. "Now, allow me to give you a tour of this newly constructed embassy. It is quite the showpiece, I will tell you...." The newly built Corlander embassy to Terraversa was placed in Westface, to solidify Corlander policy that the Commonwealth was to be the main hub for Terraversa. It was a stately building of three floors, the bottom holding conference rooms, kitchen, and a large dining hall. On the middle floor, stately offices, studies, a large library, and private chambers were located, while the top floor held bedrooms for staff and dignitaries. ________________________________________________ To be licensed by Corrington as a medium art and culture in Westface.

2 years after the Terraversan wars, Grand Admiral L'Olius, now statholder of the Commonwealth of Terraversa, is giving his "state of the Commonwealth" address. From the balcony of the Westface Government Hall, formerly the city hall, his booming quarterdeck voice rings out across the so-called "Mardierian stairs" to the crowds assembled there and in the main square. The two years have brought peace, and the initial investment on agriculture have ensured that none have gone hungry. Trade has not boomed as much as hoped, and Corrington have been heavily invested in renewed wars with the Lotus, and not able to support the fledgling nation as much as hoped. However, L'Olius has big plans... Amongst the crowd, Captain Cooke and Consul Montoya, still held up in Westface, are listening to the speech, reflecting on Corrington's limited involvement in the new nation. Both painfully aware that Corrington has not offered the assistance they had both wished for... 2 years of independence by Christian West, on Flickr _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ This will be licensed by the Commonwealth of Terraversa as a large cultural building. It's been in the works for a long time, but any feedback is more than welcome. _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ A few sources to the back story of this build: Oleon's mission to Terraversa Corrington's ditto Oleon's attack on Kings Port First and second issue of the KPA, detailing the Terraversan Civil War/2nd Terraversan War of Independence Peace negotiations NB: There are plenty of other builds related to this story, and a little digging around will find you a very interesting series of events.

The soldier paused for a moment beneath the pine tree to take in the wild scent. When the sun warmed its bark, the tree let off a rich, sweet aroma. What could be better? Since the end of the Second Terraversan War, life in the Commonwealth of Terraversa was charmed. ------------- OOC: Playing around with some new curvy roundies for a base.

Name: Nola Mar Ownership: Oleon Location: Royalist Terraversa Mayor: Knights Treasurer Chapter Master Sir Helmut Von Braun (Ross Fisher)  Who can own property in Nola Mar: Anyone except the WTC (current properties excepted) Who can freebuild in Nola Mar: Anyone Size for EGS purposes: Large City Needed to upgrade to Grand City: 12 Artisan, 6 Commerce, 15 Factory, 1 Residence, 1 Education, 1 Royal (53 total) Trade value: 570 Troops: 310 Architectural guide: As one of the oldest settlements in the Brick Seas, Nola Mar has a large number of buildings built in the local blue-grey stone. The remainder are usually built from local timber, with white or tan plaster. Buildings from the Mardieran or Independent era are often accented with yellow elements, whereas those associated with the current Oleonaise administration are frequently accented in blue. The heart of the settlement is marked by canals, colonnades and piazzas. While the port region is decked out with red wooden warehouses. Fortresses: City Walls Artisan: 16 Nola Mar Stud Farm Avenue Des Champs Valerie Claude's Shipbreakers Cafe and Taverna Commerce: 16 The Harbour The Quay Harbourside Buildings Warehouse RNTC Way Station FTA Rum Store and Office Nola Mar Campanile Factory: 15 RNTC Silver Refinery Large Factory for the production of bricks LBSF Pottery Factory Residence: 31 Courtyard A Nola Mar Street Knights Treasurer Chapter House Nola Mar Gaol Mansion Art and Culture: 18 Caves under Nola Mar Respite Mission of Zeus Nola Mar Priory of Athena Orphanage of Athena Shrine of the Recovery Cooke's interrogation Silhouette's Umbran Cameos Art Gallery Floating Chapel of Poseidon The "Shell" of Artemis Mardieran Consulate Education: 6 Nola Mar University of Classical Studies Index Libroram Prohibitorum Pigeon Post Plantations: 0 Mines: 0 Other builds: A pamphlet from Nola Mar Get Ready, and... Fire! Military Supply Depot Cooke's Escape Trenches and Barricades Training the Troops Imports! Royalist Redoubt A Meeting on the Shore The Gates of Nola Mar Another Meeting on the Shore Meanwhile, in Nola Mar

Still in Terraversa following the hostilities with Oleon, Captain Brickleton and Major Brickford ( @LM71Blackbird ) go for a walk to discuss their plans to expand ETTC presence to every settlement in the Brick Seas. They stop near a barn and decide how they can bring the trade company to the settlements they govern. OOC:

As part of the peace treaty for Terraversa, Silitholina has been split between the newly founded Commonwealth of Terraversa and the Oleonese territories, along the river Sil. With this, families risk being split, businesses risk being separated from their suppliers, and trade between the two parst in danger of petering out. To avoid this, both sides have agreed to keep trade open and at the old bridge, originally built by the Mardierians, an islet in the middle of the river has been designated a free trade zone. Although this show of benevolence on the rulers of the recently warring territories has given rise to considerable hope for a peaceful future, there is still a significant mistrust against the new neighbors and defenses has been erected by either side. "Normally, I should never have recommended carronades for fortifications" Cooke observed to Allcock and L'Olius. "However, in this particular case, they will serve well." His listeners each raised an eyebrow to see this peculiar, and distinctly inelegant, naval weapon mounted upon the recently completed gatehouse. "Some may lament the low accuracy and range of these brutes, and I should be hard-pressed to challenge such claims." the sea captain acknowledged "...however, for clearing a narrow bridge, nothing can compete. You see, the weight of metal and the rate of fire is unmatched by long guns!" "And to that, the inability to effectively target the opposing defenses makes them less of a provocation for our blue-coated counterparts." Allcock added "...and it would take but a short while to set up proper siege artillery, should the need arise." L'Olius nodded, visibly impressed. Corlander pioneers, with a workforce of Terraversan militia and craftsmen, had erected a new gatehouse in record time, and overseen the mounting of the carronades, posing a potent defense for the Commonwealth's northern border. Trade and traffic was passing through largely unhindered, but should conflict arise the heavy gates, artillery emplacements, and crenelations would pose a formidable barrier for anyone trying to attack his new fiefdom. _________________ Collab with @KotZ and @Thomas Waagenaar. It has been a fun collab! Other parts of this collab can be found here: Checkpoint North by Thomas The center-river trading zone by Kotz

Willem Guilder had been in King’s Harbour just two months ago at Corrington’s “Great Ball of Terra Nova.” Now he had returned to talk to his old friend and political colleague, Román Fontonajo. In Fontonajo’s retirement, he had built a lovely house on Cocovia and settled down to enjoy a quieter life, away from politics. Guilder hated that he must ask Román to disturb his peaceful life and return to the political arena, but hoped that Román would embrace the opportunity. Guilder was greeted at the door by Román’s wife, Clarissa, and she led him into the study of their house in King’s Harbour. “Román,” Clarissa Fontonajo shouted through the house. “It’s Admius Legistrad, Master Guilder.” Román went down the stairs. “You should feel free to call him Willem, my dear,” he said. Turning to Guilder, “Welcome, old friend. Come in. Mind if I prepare something to drink for us?” asked Román, and he started walking toward the kitchen. “Yes, please, call me Willem,” said Guilder to Clarissa. “No need for formalities. And thank you, Román; a drink sounds good about now.” Guilder followed Román into the kitchen. “Juice? Wine? A tea? Or just some water?” Román asked. “Tea would be wonderful.” Guilder rubbed his leg above his peg leg. “I’m getting more used to this, but it serves as a constant reminder of the war to me. Tea always reminds me of the rewards of exploration and trade.” “Tea ... Have you ever traded it at larger scale?” Román asked while he started boiling some water. “I haven’t,” Guilder said with a bit of a sigh. “Cotton and indigo, plenty. I must redouble my efforts regarding the indigo we found on Ferro Azure. But with so many varieties of plants on every island we go to, there must be some plant out there with leaves perfect for a new type of tea” he continued wistfully. “I guess we haven’t found it yet, either ... But you are quite right about the sheer quantity of newly discovered islands. When two years ago all we could think about is colonizing and claiming the next island, and then the next after that, today we struggle to properly colonize all those we already own. I feel our collaborative efforts have become rather lackluster. But who am I to blame? I guess that’s not much of my business, anymore. Today I hardly do more than brewing tea. And look, the water is boiling. Which one? I will take my favorite Nellisan Herb Mix -- always feels like home to me.” “I will take the same, thank you. Perhaps I can share your feeling of ‘home’.” Guilder paused briefly, then continued. “And even in your retirement, if that’s the proper thing to call it, our collective efforts will always be your business. You are one of the major architects of colonial Eslandola. You are dearly missed in the council, I assure you, but I think I understand why you stepped away. You and your lovely Clarissa are blessed with a large family and each other; I am a man married to my work by happenstance as much as choice.” “And the Sweet Bardo Peach for Clarissa. Now come, let’s head to my study and have a seat.” Román said, as they walked towards the next room where Clarissa was already sitting and waiting. “And you are right -- marriage is a blessing to me. Just last night we talked about the nothing I would be without Clarissa. And I’d even claim that our colonies would not be what they are, if it wasn’t for her. But I guess you are not here to talk about the love we have found in life, have you?” “No, I have not. You know me well.” Guilder settled into a chair and propped up his pegleg. “I have come to ask a favor -- a favor that will pull you back into political affairs for a bit, but not for too long.” “A bit and not too long ... it doesn’t really sound like you know what this favor will be exactly, do you?” Guilder laughed. “This is exactly why I am asking this favor of you. You are much better at the language of diplomacy than I am.” Román thought for a second before he replied: “I have always felt more like a selfish tactician, with my own hidden agenda ...” “But isn’t that exactly what Willem just said?” Clarissa interjected with a broad smile on her face. Guilder laughed again with a broad grin. “Clarissa, you understand the game well!” Guilder composed himself, then faced her husband again. “Román, I’ll get straight to the point. War is hard, and sometimes keeping the peace is just as hard or harder. We’ve allowed ourselves to relax too much in the aftermath of the war. Oleon is actively courting Mardier and has sent a delegation to Terraversa as well. There are military rumblings from Oleon, and though I discount them for the most part, they remind us that we have work to do. Terraversa, newly independent, is a young nation finding its way. We both fought against Mardier, and now we need to solidify our relationship going forward. We need to make a gesture to Terraversa, and to all the nations of the Brick Seas, to show our recognition ... and support ... of Terraversa’s independence. So, we need someone to go to Kings Port and carry that word to Archduke Oldis. That someone must show everyone how important this is to us. I could think of no one better than you.” “Terraversa ... I’ve always had mixed feelings about their location. The less attractive Terraversa becomes as a halt on a ship’s journey between the worlds, the more likely every single ship is to stop at our most beloved Eslandolan town on the eastern coast of Nellisa. Which is, of course, in my favor more than in anyone else’s. So I assume I wouldn’t benefit much from acknowledging Terraversan independence, would I?” After a quick pause Román continued. “But surely we are not here to discuss the impacts of national politics on my very personal wellbeing. And I surely see some reason behind pursuing an alliance with Oldis. Which brings me to the core of my question: Who are we actually trying to become friends with?” “There is no doubt that Nova Terreli and Nellisa have surpassed Kings Port and Terraversa in importance on the trade routes. But Terraversa is still a strategic location. In the hands of an ally, it can assure that trade continues to flow freely to Nellisa. Furthermore, I can imagine that cooperation between Terraversa and Neliisa could increase trade revenues for both. But in the hands of a foe, it can restrict trade. If Oleon’s RNTC were to gain favor, they might implement taxes selectively to influence trade away from Nova Terreli. And if Mardier were to regain control, we might find ourselves in an undeclared war at sea again. Guilder shifted in his chair as he watched Román turn things over in his head, but continued before Román could speak. “And you have identified the key issue, easily the most delicate: who are we trying to become friends with. Terraversa is a two-sided coin. Oldis is Archduke, but L’Olius essentially controls the navy and is quite popular among the citizenry. We must find a way to be friends with both.” “And so the unborn may do his first grand favor to our nation ...,” Fontonajo mumbled after some seconds of thought. “What was that?” asked Guilder. “Or her,” Clarissa answered in Román's stead. “We are going to be grandparents soon, you know?” She had a dreamy smile on her face. “Oh! I had no idea. Congratulations! Which of your children is expecting?” “Joaquin,” said Román. “With his wonderful fiancee, Poca from Berreli. You get my point?” “I’m not sure,” replied Guilder, puzzling it over. “Other than that keeping the peace is bigger than one island or one nation, or one people, and there is more to it than personal considerations ...” “I guess L’Olius might be more open to the arguments of someone who has crossed the boundaries of races, just like his ancestors did, don’t you think?” “Ah! Of course! I forgot about L’Olius’s Atwi heritage. I can see you’re already developing a plan. Tell me more.” “We should definitely go together. That is: Joaquin, Poca, their baby, Clarissa, and myself. And split up in Terraversa, so that Joaquin can talk to L’Olius -- they are both brave men, seafarer and adventurers, after all -- while Clarissa and myself talk to Oldis. There is no way around winning both, and for now they surely do want the same thing: preserve Terraversan independence. We can aid them in this regard, we are the strong ally here -- and we can negotiate from our position of strength. So our goal is an official military alliance?” “An excellent approach to L’Olius! Your sense of family has always been a strength of yours. ... As for our goal -- goals, actually -- I wish a simple, straight-forward answer was possible. We want to limit any influence Oleon might gain in their talks, at a minimum maintaining the status quo militarily and in trade. We also want to do what we can to make sure Mardier doesn’t return. So how to achieve these goals? Personally, I favor a military defensive pact, and there are others who favor this as well. Of course, any treaty we negotiate will have to be ratified by the council, and there will be opposition -- some fear being drawn into another conflict. You know how the council can be. But I believe there is enough support to approve a defensive pact, and I think that is the surest way to prevent Mardier’s return. There is also support for a trade agreement of some sort, and while what form that would take is less clear, it would probably be easier to get approved. So you have great latitude on where to take things. While I obviously hope for more, even if we just come out of this with improved relations with Oldis and L’Olius, that will be something. Certainly see where they want to take the conversation and take our cues from that.” “And surely we will officially acknowledge them as an independent nation of their own?” “Yes, I have here a statement approved jointly by the Colonial Council and the Continental Council, signed by King Fernando! I was worried it might be difficult to get Fernando’s signature, but once it was explained to him that it would be like throwing night caps at Oleon’s King Philip, he was all for it.” “I hope it has your signature as well? And best those of all Council Members? Fernando’s name may not mean too much to successful revolutionaries, such as Oldis or L’Olius, who have triumphantly unbound from the chains of traditional Continental nations -- while I am rather sure your word or Román’s will,” Clarissa stated. “It does, indeed, Clarissa. I have signed, as have all the members of the council. But the king’s signature is significant. It shows no ambiguity in our stance on their independence. And a king recognizing the rights of such revolutionaries sends a powerful signal to the noble houses of Mardier and Oleon.” “Yet still we have a tough task ahead of ourselves,” Román said. “Oldis is said to be a relentless negotiation counterpart. Shouldn’t we be bringing some gift?” “Do you have something in mind?” “I have heard tigers make for wonderful pets.” “Seriously?” replied Guilder, a bit startled. “I must admit that hadn’t occurred to me.” “If it were you I’d make sure to get you one, because I know you could handle the beast. I guess it might work for L’Olius as well. But Oldis? Not so sure, the tiger might decide to just eat him, and that would be it for our negotiations. What about some fine clothes instead? And maybe Maestro will contribute some apple cider?” Guilder let out a hearty laugh. “I could handle him only because he would take one taste of my pegleg and deem me inedible!” Guilder slapped his leg for emphasis, then worked to return himself to a serious manner. “I’m certain we can get some of Maestro’s fine cider, and I will trust your judgment on what gifts to take. If you need me to acquire anything, just say the word.” Guilder leaned forward a bit, in a slightly softer voice. “If you have a lead on a tiger, that may indeed be a fine gift for L’Olius. It is, however, quite important to make sure Oldis does not feel upstaged by anything we present to L’Olius.” “A good point. But it applies both ways. We will always have to give Oldis more than L’Olius to make sure we acknowledge his rule, but only so much more that L’Olius does not feel upstaged. What a nice word, Willem.” “Or we just bring entirely different and unique gifts to both of them ...,” Clarissa suggested. “I would not think we should give Oldis more, but rather the gifts to each must speak to what each values. Clarissa makes a good point that the gift or gifts to each of them should be unique. To that line of thinking, a tiger would speak to L’Olius’s military role, where fine clothes would speak to Oldis’s taste for the finer things. Or perhaps a fine Eslandian stallion for Oldis? An animal for each, but each representing different qualities and values.” “One of many hard things, certainly. But we will find a solution. Do you see any other obstacles in our way?” “Just communication at this point. We need to send word ahead to let them know you are coming. And simply assembling an appropriate squadron to carry you on your mission. Logistics ... and time. We mustn’t dally, but send you and your family on your way as soon as possible. Oleon has quite the head start on us.” Guilder gave him a sly grin, then said, “I take it this means you accept this mission?” “This seems like a very intense and difficult diplomatic mission...,” Román voiced his thoughts. “Willem,” Clarissa interupted, “even with all the admiration I have for my husband and his success in both trade and politics, isn’t what you are asking for more of a task for a Colonial Grand Ambassador of Eslandola? Who may appoint local ambassadors ...” “... like his son?” Román asked her, innocent as a lamb, to which Clarissa responded with a soft smile: “Yes, for example. Or just anyone else.” “Román, my apologies. I sometimes get so focused on an end result, I forget about some of the necessary tasks to get there.” Guilder reached into his coat pocket and produced a sealed letter. “As you know, that position has been vacant for some time, a casualty of the political upheaval. And the council believes it is high time that was addressed.” Guilder handed the letter to Román. “The Continental Council confers on you title of Grand Ambassador of Eslandola, with all its incumbent powers ... if you accept.” Román looked straight at Guilder: “Powers ... I consider an ambassador more a man of words than a man of power ... But that might be for philosophers to discuss. We are here in this world, where I gladly accept the trust the council has in me. I will make sure not to disappoint you.” Román took pause and circled the room several times, in deep thought, before he continued. “Now there is one more thing that lies heavy on my heart. As you know, I have effectively taken all responsibilities of governing Nellisa. And almost all inhabitants of our colonies know that I am de facto the Governor of Nellisa. But you and I know that there has never been an official acknowledgement from our council to clarify this uncertainty for good. I would be ... very pleased if you could look into this and bring distinctness, once and for all. It would surely make the lives of all Nellisans a bit less burdened.” “You’re right. I must admit, I had forgotten that it was never made official; such is the strength of your governorship that Fontonajo and Nellisa are thought of as one! Such appointments are simpler when the trade company controls the island. I will bring that up with the council and see that it is taken care of.” “That sounds good, Willem. The urgency for the mission must be even higher than I thought, given the little resistance you showed towards my proposals ... I guess I might ask for a palace in every Eslandolan town and you would consider actually making it possible! But both you and I are more than simple bargain-hunters on the fish market. So let’s call it an agreement, be satisfied with the result and keep all the rest in mind for our future meetings. You will stay for dinner?” “My dear Román, you did not ask for anything out of place ... although I must admit that I’m relieved we have reached the end of your list,” Guilder replied with a grin. “And you assess the situation correctly: we’ve been napping diplomatically and let Oleon take the lead, which we must now correct. But I feel better already knowing you are on board for this venture. … And I would love to stay for dinner.” * * * After dinner, Guilder made his way down to the docks, where Captain Ambrose MacMathain of the Eslandolan ship Valiant Phoenix was waiting. “Captain MacMathain, I hope I have not held up your departure.” “Not at all, sir,” said the captain. “My men are having quite the time offloading our cargo.” “Yes, I see that,” replied Guilder, eyeing the scene pensively. “But have no fear, sir, my crew and I are up to whatever task you have for us.” “I’m sure you are, captain.” Guilder then handed MacMathain a sealed diplomatic pouch. “Deliver this to Archduke Oldis’s court in Kings Port. We are notifying the Terraversans that we are sending an ambassador next month.” “I will watch over this letter personally, Admius Legistrad.” The captain hesitated, fearing he should not pry in official matters, but worked up his courage. “Who is our ambassador to Terraversa?” “Román Fontonajo, our former and first Admius Legistrad, has agreed to step out of retirement to represent Eslandola as Grand Ambassador on this mission. He is to officially announce what we should have said to Terraversa and the Brick Seas months ago. He will be sailing to Nova Terreli this month to prepare for his trip.” “Do you need me to do anything for the ambassador?” asked the captain. “No, other arrangements are being made for him,” replied Guilder. “Just deliver this letter to Kings Port.” “I will see it done,” replied the captain. And with that, Guilder was off. Captain MacMathain clutched the diplomatic pouch tight. Not being a man of politics, he wondered to himself what the announcement would be. But for Román Fontonajo to come out of retirement, it must be important.

The streets of Kings Port is alive with soldiers and civilians running more or less aimlessly around as the church-bells and shouts of alarm alert the Terraversans of Oleon's invasion. Watching his guard running off Cooke ponders what little difference it matters, the door being as unyielding as ever. Cooke had largely been ignored since being brought here from Nola Mar, most likely because a Corlander post-captain under accusation of spying is about as horrible a potential diplomatic case as can be. Suddenly, a rending crash tears through the cell window, as a cannonball hits home. Pushing himself against the wall, debris flies through the cell. As the dust settles, an interesting scene appears. The walls have crumbled, and the iron door shot off its hinges - and outside the cell, Cooke's hat, cape, sword, and documents have conveniently been left for the picking. That's one opportunity Cooke will not be missing out on... ____________________ Nice to finally have my character back again, although he may have moved from the frying pan into the fire, with the way things are going on Terraversa!

Westface 29 Sept 620 With the invasion in full swing, Westface now stood as the lone Terraversan held settlement on the southeastern side of the island. The military had begun fortifying the city, preparing for the imminent attack that would one day come. Refugees and sympathizers streamed through the gates daily, eager to join one of the many militia groups forming to augment the army, or looking for protection from the invading forces. Among the refugees, two particularly gruff men were admitted through the city gate. While nothing of their appearance was of note, an onlooker with a keen eye and plenty of time on their hands, may have found their behavior to be quite interesting. They began methodically walking through the city streets, skillfully keeping to the shadows and alleys, avoiding the regular Terraversan army patrols. In normal times, this may have caught some eyes, but with the almost frantic atmosphere in the city, no one had any thoughts other than an army of bluecoats materializing on the horizon charging for an attack. As such, the two men continued unchallenged through the city streets, the first man making notes of any notable thing in a small ledger in shorthand, the other, hatchet in hand keeping a watchful eye for anyone who may make sense of their purpose in the city. _____________________________________________________________________________ Since I was on vacation last week, I decided to try my hand at doing a digital build. Its been many years since I've done so, and only used LDD at the time. Switching to Studio made a world of difference, but definitely takes some practice and time to learn all of the functions it offers. I'm still a bit slow at it, but the customization it offers for colors and the like made it perfect choice for this build.

King's Port Batteries, Terraversa, 16 August 620 (T-DAY-1) "And all around the shore, where cannons still roar, they're haunting my dreams, they're still there when I sleep" The Terraversans called them "Oldis' Fist", according to the intelligence. Probably it was one of the heaviest souvenirs left by the Mardierian army... and everybody could easily guess why it was left behind. That massive 64-pounder was for sure quite difficult to move by itself and, furthermore, it was on top of a steep cliff. For sure, it represented a real threat for an attacking fleet: that beast could throw a roundshot up to three kilometers far, or a shell filled with dozens of musket balls on a shorter range. If the defenders had the chance to make those "gift" rain on the ship decks or on the crowded longboats, it would have been a massacre. Moreover, the small promontory was surrounded by reefs and shallow waters, which made the approach difficult for bomb ketches... running aground in range of enemy batteries wasn't a great perspective! This was the reason why, the night before the main landing, Tristan and his men were in those small canoes, rowing towards a coast just slightly darker than the night sky. As several other times in the past, darkness was a good friend for them: they couldn't see the landing point, this was true, but they were also hidden from their enemies... and, if everything had gone as planned, they didn't need to find that small beach on their own. Flashes of light broke the pitch-black night, as a man waved a lantern on the coast... two flashes, a pause, two more flashes. The conveyed signal! Their man on Terraversa was telling them that the way was clear... or somebody had captured him, and now was dragging them all in a trap. Trying to be as quiet as possible, the rowers headed towards the shore, while the other soldiers, Rimbaud's Raiders and mountaineers of the 5eme regiment Pride of Guelph, grabbed muskets and sabers, ready to fight tooth and nail if they had been betrayed. The canoes scraped on the shoals, avoided some surfacing rocks and, at last, reached the small beach. Their man was waiting, hidden among the rocks and, fortunately, alone. That beach was too small for a proper landing, with only an old, half-crumbled mule track leading to the top of the cliff. A patrol checked it, now and then, but they were almost outside King's Port defensive system... if they had met a few soldiers, they would have easily got rid of them without noises, with knives or bows: some of the Raiders had spent years living with the natives and could use that weapon quite well. That night, however, they didn't meet anyone, either on the beach or along the trail. After a few hours of climbing, sliding and muffled cursings, the commando reached the top of the cliff. It would have been almost impossible without their local guide, and this explained that little hole in the Terraversan defenses. It was dawn. Below them, on the shiny sea, they saw the spectacle of the Oleander fleet: an endless row of ships of the line, frigates and galleons, with support ships and bomb ketches moving around... sails and flags waved in the wind, and hundreds of cannons shined in the gunports under the morning sun. It was impressive, but it also meant that they were late: they had to take the battery immediately, before it could fire on their comrades. There was no time for a plan, for a flanking attack, for a reconnaissance. A few cannonballs, fired from the distant fleet, stopped right in front of the battery, hitting the low wall with almost no force and sinking in the soft ground... Damn! A frontal assault was a bad perspective even without the risk of friendly fire! Reloading would have taken a few minutes, so that was their chance... hoping that down below they had good spyglasses! The Terraversans artillerymen were surprised as they were loading the first shot, but reacted quickly, grabbing weapons and tools. However, they were only a few, and they were not trained at all for close-quarter engagements... the fight to take the battery would have been fast and relatively easy. At least, in theory, thought Tristan as a Terraversan tried to split his head in half with a shovel. The bluecoats climbed the low wall and charged forward. That cannon would have not fired that day: whatever the cost, they would have taken the battery, and would have held it against the enemy counterattacks. Meanwhile, along the coast, dozens of cannons were blazing, and at least as many had been destroyed by the massive artillery barrage. One of the forts was burning, but also one of the largest battleships was tilting, and the sailors were jumping in the water. That day was going to be the longest in the whole life of hundreds of men. That day they were making history!

Location: Westface, Terraversa Type: MCRA TER Terraversa had been hit hard by Oleon, and resources had been running low. Fortunately, donations were being shipped in from across the Brick Seas by those who didn't want to see the island taken by the Bluecoats. The City had been reinforced in preparation for Oleon's forces. Windows were boarded and barricades erected. While some rested in between shifts, crates of 'Genuine Giraffe Jerky' and Muskets were unloaded onto the wharf. Terraversa would not go down without a fight... FIN Thanks for viewing my. build, and my support for an independent Terraversa. The build is pretty straightforward, maybe a bit simple, but I don't think it needed much else. The Terraversan officer uses Cedric Diggory's body from the HP CMFs.

Having escaped from his captivity under allegations of spying, Cooke has started making his way back to Westface and his squadron. Dodging fights between the Olean invaders and Terraversan defenders, he has managed to get into the hinterland, where he made contact with (or rather, was surprised by...) a group of Atwi guerillas. The Atwi guerillas agreed to help him onwards towards Westface, although insisting that he first assist them with a small task involving an Olean Patrol. Luckily, there is going to be no witnesses to tell the tale of a Corlander naval officer attacking forces of Oleon...

Location: Westface, Terraversa Type: Terraversan Support Build "Form an Orderly Line, and please leave all non-essential belongings on the bridge." Shouted a Terraversan Soldier through a megaphone. People bustled and murmered on the small bridge, one of several on the Drake River. As Oleon had invaded the island, civillians had fled to the last safe bastion of Teraversa, Westface. "Name?" Asked the screener. "Harold Burton." Said the Refugee. "Occupation?" Continued the screener. "Cobbler." Replied the Refugee. "Can you fight?" Asked the screener, this time with a tinge more emotion. "No." said the old refugee, sadly. Further down the line, children cried, and a pig squealed, the only belonging a farmer had been able to take out of his home. Things deemed 'useless' by the Terraversan authorities were cast to the side of the bridge. Form an Orderly Line by North White, on Flickr While they were glad to be alive, there was little hope in the eyes of the refugees. Soon, Oleon would sweep west, and they'd be forced to submit, or flee Terraversa altogether. Under the muskets of the soldiers, stationed to prevent panic or worse, Oleander armies, the line moved slowly onwards. Truly, these were dark times for Terraversa. FIN C&C appreciated. This is a bit darker of a build, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I briefly considered a bridge battle scene, but I've been enjoying painting the different angles of the conflict. Lighting isn't as good as I hoped it would be, it was sunny enough to not have to use my usual set up, so I thought I'd try with sunlight instead. I'm not sure if it worked as well, so I might retake the photos. Thanks for viewing!

Terraversa, East of King's Port, August 620 "Thousands of feet march to the beat, it's an army on the march. Long way from home, paying the price in young men's lives." The first battle had been won, and several bridgeheads had been conquered all over the island. The losses had been relatively mild but, still, they were the highest suffered since the Juniper War. And that damned island was still largely to conquer. The first, rather obvious objective was the capital city, King's Port: the city had the largest harbor and was right in the middle of the excellent road system of western Terraversa. The capital city of the island also had a strong strategic and politic value: its capture marked the turning point between an island successfully resisting to the invasion and some minor strongholds still in enemy hands... and, for foreign nations, it could also make the difference between joining a war or supporting isolated pockets of resistance. Therefore, they had to conquer King's Port, and quickly! During the T-Day, the forts of the city had been shelled and stormed, and the vanguard of the army had entered the city from South and East. However, refraining from a brutal bombing with heavy artillery had had its cost, and the bluecoats were still fighting in the streets, with the local militia clinging to buildings and barricades. The troops landed West of the city, so North of the King's River, on the contrary, had successfully captured fortifications and batteries but were still too weak to attack the city and defend themselves by a counterattack from Pamu, so they had entrenched and were waiting for reinforcements. And the easiest way to bring those reinforcements was crossing the King's River from the South, building a proper bridge, and using it to bring soldiers, supplies and artillery between King's Port and Pamu, cutting the city off from the Kingshead district. The designated crossing point was a few miles East of the city, where the King's River was nothing more than a fast stream... quite easy to cross for a man, but an insuperable obstacle for a cannon. Combat engineers and common soldiers started working hard, reinforcing the riverbank by hammering long wooden poles in the sand. More poles were hammered directly into the bottom of the river, creating a robust anchorage for the pontoons... for sure a difficult and uncomfortable job. On the other side of the river, the bank was cleared from the bushes and the sand was leveled with shovels and spades. The next step was far more difficult, especially considering the fast flow of the river. Empty barrels were thrown in the water and secured to the poles, creating a sort of floating platform: the buoyancy of each barrel could barely sustain a single soldier, while the complete structure will hold men, horses and even cannons. While the privates worked, the officers planned the next moves with the chief engineer: according to him, the bridge could be completed in half a day, enough to let the column rest and to complete the siege before the evening, if they marched quickly enough. Soldiers and sailors followed the instructions of the combat engineers, trying to keep the barrels in position before they are dragged away... and trying not to be dragged away themselves while working in the deep water! The bridge quickly started to take shape, at first as a simple row of ropes and barrels... ...and then, when planks and earth were cast over the structure, as a robust floating platform. For sure not a bridge intended to last, but a fast solution to bring men and cannons onto the other side of the river. The soldiers marched forward, platoon after platoon, ready to face the enemy on the battlefield. Among them, the veterans of the Mardierian Legion. Several of those soldiers lived on Terraversa -or were even born on the island- before the "Terraversan patriots" forced them to flee with their families. Some were members of the garrison, others were simply political opponents of L'Olius or Oldis, who had ended up in proscription lists for a reason or the other. For them, the war was something far more personal... a chance come back to their land and to get their deliverance! -------------------------------------------------------------- A series of three builds I've done for the invasion liberation: the river banks remain the same, with the soldiers progressively clearing the bushes and building the bridge. Probably it would've been better using a larger river, this one doesn't really seem worth of a bridge... but I imagine that it would still be a problem for our cannons!

Westface surrounding beaches around midnight: After much fighting over the course of several weeks, Oleon successfully captured most of the prominent settlements on the coasts of Terraversa. The last stronghold on the coast is the city of Westface. In an effort to complete the circle around the island, several boats have landed supplies on the beaches a short ways from the city. While some of the guards can feel a tension in the air, some are exhausted from the sleepless nights and fall fast asleep. Beach Ambush 1 by LM71Blackbird, on Flickr As the bluecoats relaxed a little, a brave band of Terrversian raiders from Westface had been spending the past 2 hours slowing advancing on the unsuspecting enemy. Beach Ambush 2 by LM71Blackbird, on Flickr In and instant 2 shots rang out as the small band of raiders quickly overtook the enemy guarding some much needed supplies. Though one solider returned fire, two fled as two lay dead in the sand. Beach Ambush 3 by LM71Blackbird, on Flickr Knowing that the shots would certainly cause a stir, the raiders quickly went about securing as much of the supplies as they could before reinforcements would arrive. As the guards had fled, they figured they would help themselves to the two empty and waiting boats. Beach Ambush 4 by LM71Blackbird, on Flickr The supplies were loaded and boats were launched. The remaining raiders would escape on foot back to the walls of Westface with the intent of drawing any enemy fire away from the escaping boats. It was uncertain if this brazen ambush would help the Terrversians retain their freedom or not, but it was worth a shot. Beach Ambush 5 by LM71Blackbird, on Flickr ------------------------------------------------- A build for the support of Terraversa and their continued freedom! C&C are welcome and apprecieated and thanks for looking.

On the outskirts of Westface: With the every growing threat of attack being an immanent danger, some of the regulars from the local garrison have taken it upon themselves to drill the new recruits so that they might be able to at least have a fighting chance at repelling the blue invaders. 20201013_131230 by LM71Blackbird, on Flickr It is a motley crew to say the least, but the more proficient they become could mean the difference of a free Terraversa or a Terraversa under rule of foreign power. 20201013_131251 by LM71Blackbird, on Flickr The garrison regulars can tell that they have a lot of work to do if they intent to repel these invaders by themselves. Some of the recruits seem a bit to well dressed for the heavy combat that's sure to follow, and some need to gain control of their weapons! 20201013_131321 by LM71Blackbird, on Flickr -------------------------------- My second build in the war effort supporting the Terraversian conflict. C&C are welcome and apprecieated and thanks for looking!

Terraversan officials have hired Guerilla Mercenaries to sneek into Oleonese-held cities to find information and eliminate key individuals. Man people have rallied to the call, from locksmiths, to expert climbers, shipwrights and ex-soldiers. They are all united by one thing - the promise of cash. 'Aah, for Poseidon' s sake! I said Guerrilla, not Gorilla! '. Said an infuriated organiser. The Oleonese invasion plan was flawless - but for one thing. They forgot to fix the destroyed walls they came through, and now Terraversans can easily sneak through. ' For liberty and freedom we fight, to rid this sacred land from the vile invaders-' 'Wait, what, we aren't doing this for money?' OOC. I can't seem to delete that third pic, the one identical to the second. Can anyone help me with this please?

After the first wave of brave troops took the beaches, they were soon followed by supplies. Shot, rum, food, money. Everything was needed. A cart had already taken off to bring more ammunition to the men pushing past the beach. A watch tower had been erected, and a captain was looking at his map to see where they would be going next.

"They shall not pass!" Outskirts of Nola Mar, Terraversa, August 620 After the long calm, after the time of plots and conspiracies, the day had finally arrived. In Nola Mar, weapons were taken from the secret hideouts and passed from hand to hand: in just a few hours, the militias gathered in the agreed locations and marched towards the main strategic points all around the settlement. All the main roads from Sillitholina to Pamu were blocked by barricades and improvised defenses, all the forced passages were occupied by small military units. Everybody knew that there was no coming back: if the plan had succeeded, the whole island would soon have been in their hands. Otherwise, they would have fought to the death... there was no mercy to expect from Oldis' servants or L'Olius' henchmen! The role of Nola Mar rebels during the first days of the war was quite simple, but all the same essential: they had to block any possible movement of enemy troops along the Coastal Road, the shortest connection between King's Port and Westface, or at least slow them down as much as possible. In practical terms, this meant blocking the reinforcements from Westface to King's Port and, if the landings would have been successful, cutting the retreat route from Pamu to Sillitholina and preventing the reorganization of Oldis' troops. Small contingents of Oleander soldiers, mainly light infantry, had joined the local irregulars in the most vulnerable zones: cracking the line of the chasseurs and of the Mousquetaires du Roi wouldn't have been an easy task! Far south, in the last stronghold before the territories controlled by L'Olius, tension rose minute after minute. While the older veterans chewed some tobacco or absently rubbed whetstones on the blade of their knives, the recruits walked nervously back and forth, continuously staring at the horizon. Here, the presence of the Oleander soldiers was a little stronger, with a few small cannons quickly dragged there with horses and oxen. More soldiers and cannons would soon have come from Nola Mar, provided that they could leave the city undefended. However, nobody really knew if they would have seen arrive the blue coats of Oleander soldiers or the dark blue uniforms of L'Olius' minions. In that case, they would have sold dearly their skin. "Horsemen! Horsemen from Sillitholina!" Everyone grabbed his musket and rushed to the parapet. The gunners lit the fuses and loaded the cannons. Nobody uttered a word. "Damn, they are still too far! I cannot see the uniforms. Hold fire until my orders!" The soldiers stood still, looking at the tiny cloud of dust growing bigger and bigger... Just a small prequel of the battle for Terraversa, while the fog of war still covers the island... Overall view-1: Overall view-2:

Landing Point Charlotte, Terraversa, 17 August 620 (T-DAY) "Hell is waiting where the ocean meets the sand"  The soldiers of the first wave got onto the small rowboats, that were immediately lowered into the water. Somebody whispered a short prayer to Poseidon, others hummed a popular tavern song, most remained silent... only the platoon of legionnaires assigned to the ship continued chatting and laughing till the last moment, as if their assault was nothing more serious than a pleasant walk. The cliffs in front of them started appearing from the morning fog. It was almost the hour. In a few minutes, they would have started rowing as madmen towards Plage Charlotte, one of the designated landing points... not thehardest target, but still well under the crossfire of forts and batteries! Everybody knew that a lot of things could go very, very, wrong: according to the plan, they would have reached the shoreline immediately after the first artillery barrage, overwhelming the shoreline fortifications and opening a safe passage for the second -and more consistent- wave; meanwhile, their artillery would have hammered the remaining forts, turning them into ruins. Suddenly, the capital ship shot the first volley, immediately followed by hundreds of other cannons. On the shore, a battery exploded, immediately followed by another one. With a savage yell, the soldiers started rowing, while dozens and dozens of cannonballs flew over their heads. Small clouds of smoke announced the first return volleys. A few seconds later, jets of water exploded from the sea, and a nearby ship received two blows. As the artillery duel continued, the small boats reached the shore. The bigger coastal batteries continued their barrage against the fleet, but the mortars and the small culverins were waiting for them. One of the boats was annihilated, directly hit by a grenade. After what seemed an eternity, the keels of the boats hit the sand and the soldiers jumped forward. The rain of iron and fire began immediately, as the soldiers arrived in the range of Terraversan blockhouses. Organ guns and wall muskets started firing, giving rise to a hellish concert of bangs and rattlings. In just a matter of seconds, dozens of bullets were flying in every direction.  Some soldiers fell after a few steps, mowed by mortar fire and organ guns, but most charged forward, taking shelter and starting a strong cover fire with their muskets. One of the organ guns fired again, but those damned weapons were inaccurate and slow to reload... with the soldiers moving and scattering along the beach, this time most of the bullets hit only the sand.  An officer of the Zouaves, the tirailleurs from New Oleon, started yelling orders, reorganizing the soldiers for the charge: if they took the fortifications before the Terraversans could reorganize, the first bridgehead would have been taken! Only a few dozen meters and they would have reached the blockhouses... a run through the Tartarus, towards the guns of their enemies, but also the road towards King's Port and the victory!   A few more pics of the battle:   The Terraversan organ gun:   Obvious credit to @Khorne for the foreign legion and the zouaves, something I never had the chance to depict. Ps So it begins... as soon as possible I’ll add a link in the AMRCA thread!

Dear Eslandola, word has reached my ears, even here in Terraversa, about the most concerning recent financial reports. Be assured, my dear friends of the Colonial Council, that you do not stand alone in this struggle. The Fontonajo family is with you in these difficult times. I am certain you all realise any taxation of wealth is not an option? After all, the freedom of choice is what has made our nation great, and most certainly you will not dispossess your citizens of this freedom! I have always been in favour of further taxation - port taxes, taxation of new investments (properties), even taxes for living in the most luxourious towns, taxations for larger fleets, for titles, for offices - just about for everything that leaves us with a choice to decide against it, and thus against the taxes. While taxes on regular income might be a grey area, taxing our possessions leaves us with no choice to take another path - which is essentially the demise of freedom and thus the doom of our Empire. To express my support with more than just words I hereby transfer some of my most valuable possessions. While I give the Cotton Island near Salida Este to the Merchants Colonial Trading Company, which should be netting the MCTC around 150 Dubloons in monthly revenue, the Colonial Council Hall in Montario is hereby transferred to our nation. I entrust you, my friends in the Colonial Council, to use the money wisely. Also as of today, all port taxes acquired by Nova Terreli shall go directly to the treasury of our great Colonial Eslandolan Empire. My utmost respect to the work all of you are dedicating to our nations in those hard times. My finest regards Román Esteban Fontonajo, Colonial Grand Ambassador I might license this as a small commerce in Kings Port, Terraversa. And some more detail-shots of the furniture:

With a copy of the signed treaty calling for cessation of all hostilities in hand, Captain Brickleton thundered southward on his horse, throwing pebbles and rocks up in his wake. The Terraversans of Pamu, from whom he has been lent the horse, claimed it was the fastest mount available - and as Brickleton galloped at full speed for hours on end this appeared to bear fruit. He would seek out Colonel Allcock and attempt to stop Corrington's assault on Tarlor before it was too late ( @Ayrlego ). OOC: