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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.

Marja Henrietta Fontonajo stood on the veranda of the de la Montague ranch, a few miles northeast of King's Port on Terraversa. She knew the ranchero Hugo Gonzalo de la Montague from former... missions. Hugo Gonzalo had always been a true Terraversan, opposing the Mardierian throne. Marja had held up the relationship between Terraversan revolutionists and the Eslandolan crown for many years. But this time it was different. There was no more king Fernando. There was no more master. At least so she thought, until Hugo Gonzalo de la Montague started talking: "My son might be about to do something stupid, mistress Fontonajo." "Then you should tell him not to?" "Which father's words might stop a son's heart, young lady?" "My father did. Until he died, that was." "See?" "I guess you might be right", Marja frowned. "But what do you think he will do?" "Regarding that", Hugo replied, "I must admit I am not quite certain yet." "So what do you assume?" "At the current moment in time I assume it might be love." "Love?" "Sure, love. A heated heart leaves place for no cool mind, they say." "Why are you telling me?" "I am quite certain you know why, mistress Fontonajo?" "I won't help you. I cannot babysit your son!" "What other business hinders you, mylady? That of a broken king? Or your brother's? Highest political ambitions, they say. King of the Colonies he might want to become, or at least there are rumors? Is it this?" "No. But your son has to care for himself." "Does he really have to?" "I said no", Marja replied. "And I mean it." Hugo Gonzalo de la Montague hesitated for a while, before he replied. "Then, mylady, I am afraid I have to remind you that you owe me. Most certainly you know what I am talking about? And I guess your personal honour is still intact?" Marja's face hardened, and with a stern look she replied: "So who am I looking for?" "Ricardo Alphonso, my glorious son, a good looking..." - "Not him. Her.", Marja interrupted. "I fear I have no clue who she is." "No clue at all, Senor de la Montague? None at all?" "There might be one... thing... A housemaid had told me that she had heard him murmur a name in his sleep. Angelica, she had said." "Where can I find this housemaid?" The look in Hugo's face - when he had talked about his housemaid - both ashamed and enthusiastic at the same time, had told Marja all she needed to know. Now she had something against Hugo de la Montague. Whenever she would need it. But he had made her curious. And he was right in that she owed him. And now she wanted to find out more about this story. Time to find a girl named "Angelica" in King's Port. She had solved harder tasks before. For the first time since the fall of King Fernando she felt vivid again. Marja Fontonajo was back. ... to be continued ...

Here is my entry to Challenge V, category A, supporting Mardier. It’s great to be back building for Brethren of the Brick Seas! Disclaimer: No official LEGO string was harmed during the making of this MOC. In the current turmoil the Viceroy’s daughter Esmeralda would be a very good match for any power wishing to increase their influence over Terraversa. Cornelio is a young nobleman from Eslandola and has been sent to Terraversa to win the hand of Esmeralda. Proposal in King’s Port His tireless courting of the young lady has borne fruit and when he now proposes to her she happily accepts. Things are looking good for both Cornelio and Eslandola! Suitor So far it’s the happiest day of her life Everyone is not happy with this arrangement however, agents of the Marderian King Alphonse are doing their best to stop it. An assassin has found a way to strike and make it look like an accident… Assassin from the Marderian King Alphonse’s Death Guard While people are gathering around the unfortunate suitor, the assassin easily got away. The end of a love story… The building itself was inspired by 17th century houses in Amsterdam, particularly the high and narrow shape and a beam to raise goods up into the attic. Without minifigs. Without minifigs. Bonus shot: 100 % crop of the ring from the closeup shot of the suitor above, to test the ability of my new macro lens, fairly good effective resolution? And I think the builder himself is slightly visible behind the camera too

A Lovers' Tale Part II (Against Mardier) Prelude Part 1 (Bregir) Part 2 (Elostirion) Part 3 (Ayrlego) Rumours had spread quickly in town. Ricardo Alphonso de la Montague had proposed to Angelica Castellano. In the many taverns of King's Port the stories of Ricardo's proposal were already told, how he had brought a carriage with more than one thousand flowers, a ring of pure gold with the biggest ruby that had ever been found in the new world, and proposed to bis beloved Angelica from down the streets, up towards her balcony. And how she had replied, singing with the softest voice of an angel, as her name sugggests, a song to express her deep love for Ricardo, and to say yes. Marja Fontonajo knew different. She had been there. She had found Angelica Castellano in King's Port, and realised that she was the girl that Ricardo's father had talked about, the girl Ricardo was in love with. There were not a thousand flowers, nor a pretentious ring, nor did she sing. But what she had seen had gone far deeper. These two did not need any of these symbols. It was the real and honest love of a young couple. Now, a few days later, the facts were obvious. The de la Montague family had always been pro Terraversan independence. And while Ricardo's father, Hugo de la Montague, was afraid for his son, he would not oppose the marriage. General Castellano, commander of the Horse Guards, was more sceptical. He had not yet decided for a side in the Terraversan conflict, and did not like the idea of his daughter deciding for him. And then there was King Alphonse XIII of Mardier, who had been struggling to get the powerful Castsellano on his side in the Terraversan conflict. It was known that his ruthless Death Guard had already arrived in King's Port. The danger for Ricardo and Angelica had become real. At the "Grape & Goblet", a tavern and guesthouse in King's Port The Death Guard is entering the tavern, while Ricardo and Angelica are climbing down the window. But how have they gotten there? And why is blood dripping from the upper floor? Two hours earlier Marja Fontonajo saw one of the kitchenmaids hastily leave the guesthouse through a backdoor with a letter in her hand. The maid ran straight to a larger estate and handed the letter to one of the guards at the gates. The guard took the letter inside, and soon after Marja could see a Sergeant of the Death Guard assemble his men in the courtyard. Marja hasted back towards the "Grape & Goblet", where she confronted the innkeeper, but found him to be innocent. In fact, he had not even known that the young couple who were his guests were actually Ricardo and Angelica, but when he learned he agreed to help. Marja quickly ran up the stairs, and burst the door open, where she found the two lovers kissing, half naked. "Get dressed. Immediately!", she commanded the ashamed lovers. While Angelica looked at her in fear, Ricardo - though still confused - grabbed for his rapier. "If I wanted you dead you would already be.", Marja replied. "Who are you?", Angelica asked, afraid of the answer. "Your guardian. Now listen! You have been betrayed. The Death Guard is on its way. Your lifes are in danger. Now get dressed, and stay in here. When I give you a sign you leave through the window. You", she added towards the befuddled innkeeper, "get us a rope and a board to barricade the door. Now!" And looking at the lovers again she added: "Climb down the window, then run towards the back of the house, fifty metres to the left, turn right, and you will find an alleyway. Go down, at the first crossing go left, and then just follow the path till it ends. You will find a closed tavern called Othello's Folly. Climb in the second window at the back and I will meet you there and get you out of town." "But my father...", Ricardo started. "Already knows", Marja interrupted. "Now stop discussing and get ready. They will be here in a minute!" When the first soldier of the Death Guard ran upstairs, Marja gave the sign for Angelica and Ricardo to climb. Once the soldier has spotted her and starts running, drawing his saber, a bullet hits him right in the heart. Marja hasn't killed anyone in quite a while. Now, however, her only thoughts are with the lovers. And how she will leave the tavern in about thirty seconds. Downstairs the innkeeper tries to win some time by discussing the honour-code of the Terraversan guesthouse association, that clearly forbids to disclose any details about guests. The Death Guard's sergeant is already getting angry, while the next of his men cannout hold it an run upstairs. Two more members of the Death Guard are entering the "Grape & Goblet" right now. Little do they know that the room of Ricardo and Angelica is already empty... ... and that the two lovers are fleeing the guesthouse right under their nose. __________________ To be continued...

BOBs Brief Stories 04 : Lady Jazmyn Cuervo Kidnapping, part 2 After a quite incomfortable trip from Torrach Bonn to Terraversa, Lady Jazmyn Cuervo has been disembarqued in King's Port in Terraversa. The privateer known as "Le Pingouin" reached a little wharf at the port near the market place where fishermen are usually selling their goods. He met the local Mardier officer in charge of this part of the port who was worried about the situation... Actually, with the war pending between Mardier and Eslandola, the local garrison was lighter than ever and the Separatists could try anything. Seing "Le Pingouin" arriving with an Eslandian prisoner was not the best news he would have expected and feared the situation would escape out of his control ! He was telling the privateer to continue his route when an astonishing lady dressed in purple arrived backwards to distract "Le Pingouin"'s men. She just blinked once and suddenly, the situation got out of control ! The men guarding Lady Cuervo solidly tied up in the rowboat at quay were quickly stunt by the lady in purple and her friend while many citizens raised arms to fight the poor garrison stationed around the wharf ! Fishermen, farmers, gentlmen and ladies were suddenly became angry Separatist rebels. The leader of this operation came to free Lady Cuervo during the time his troops attacked the Mardier men. He told her that he was a dormant agent for the Eslandolan crown and he was awared of her kidnapping. So, he tried to free her here in Terraversa using the ambiguous situation of the island at this time, before seing her sold at Mardier. He ensured her that she will be extracted quickly by night thanks to an Eslandola fleet that was sent to blockade the Terraversan Port. Finally, Lady Cuervo followed him leaving a market place in trouble. She was free ! The Terraversa situation is actually not really settled and many separatists are still active. Will Mardier succeed in bringing peace in this isalnd ? Or will the separatists manage to create an independant state without being disturbed by the war against Eslandola ? All of this is still unsure... But who can tell ! Here is the end of Lady Cuervo kidnapping. I wanted her to be saved like we decided with @Stash2Sixx Of course, I am not pretending to describe the absolute truth and it is possible the Separatists are not so strong, but the Mardier presence should have been lowered since the beginning of the war because of some troops being sent to the front. Anyway, feel free to comment both the story and the build. Thank you for reading.

After the Civil War had lasted more than twenty years within Mardier, the island of Terraversa has finally gained its independence in March 617 AE. It is said that their leader Miro Oldis, formerly Mardierian Viceroy of Terraversa, has led the troops to victory himself, when they chased the Death Guard of King Alphonse XIII of Mardier into the sea, and officially, finally and irreversible declared their independence. Today the young nation has to establish itself: Structures are required for government, military, administration but also things like an education system of their own, which they have never had. This is no easy task for Miro Oldis, who is hasting from council meetings to official speeches to diplomatic correspondence. Will he stand up to the task of forming Terraversa into a lasting and powerful nation? Miro Oldis, Archduke of Terraversa The lengthy war of independence between Terraversa and Mardier has created many militias and small troops, often under the command of one nobleman or another, or even a self-elected leader. Almost every soldier has been decorated with medals of honour from someone, and wears his self-created epaulettes and other enblembs with pride (which may often lead to odd-looking uniforms for militias). Many Atwi have fought alongside the Halosian Terraversans, and formed squads of their own. For now the feeling of unison still holds strong within the young nation, but establishing a real military organisation, with uniforms, ranks and common strategies will be one of the key tasks the government will have to tackle. Prima Compañía, the first official Terraversan miltary unit Terraversan Militia Units a noble bannerman, a townguard of Westface, an explorer, a musketman Sailors of the Terraversan Naval Forces a captain, a navigator, a common marine, a mercenary sailor from a privateer Warriors of the Atwi Tribe a militia-guardsman of Pamu, a tribal archer, a musketman from a militia-squad, a member of the crew of L'Olius Those emerged from our NPC development group (see Jameis Fastrider's Guide). I though I'd dedicate them a topif of their own which I could just link in the Terraversa text over there.

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:

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!

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!

"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!

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.

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 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!

Citizens of the Brick Seas, stormy clouds are gathering over Terraversa! See besides the lies of the Corrish Empire! See besides the clean facade they built to hide their interest! A military Corrish expedition has landed on Terraversa to make contact with Admiral L'Olius, a local warlord in open contrast with the central government... they claim they want peace, but as soon as another nation peacefully pursuits a commercial enterprise, immediately they arrive, to "keep the peace" with their bayonets! They claim that Nola Mar is in open rebellion and that a foreign nation is funding the rebels, then they brazenly admit that their secret agents are on the island, and that their naval officers have taken contact with the tyrant of Westface, a man who has seized power and keeps it with the constant menace of a civil war! Actually, I see only one foreign interference in Terraversa... and its color is red! They say they want a free and independent Terraversa... Do they consider us all fools? Right now a fleet of Corrish frigates is blockading Terraversan ports, inspecting every ship arriving or leaving... with which authority? They already behave like the masters of the island, deciding who can arrive and who can leave, and they claim they want free trade! Do you remember their lies in Nova Malto? They occupied the settlement, blocking the arrival of Eslandolan supplies, and they claimed they were helping the population! They delayed reconstruction, they willingly prolonged the sufferings of the inhabitants, just to plan the annexation! Does Terraversa need the help of Corrington too, as Nova Malto did? Or are they creating a new crisis, just to feast on the ruins? L'Olius, the friend of the Corries, is imposing tremendous port taxes on the vessels of all the foreign nations. He destroyed the once-flourishing commerce of Westface, and now he allows smugglers to flourish on the island, buying Terraversan goods for a misery... one could guess why, and could imagine a turbid system of bribes. Now the local authorities of Nola Mar are trying to fight those criminals, and what happens? Corrington sends its ships, in a clear intimidatory act. Are they defending peace, or only the pockets of their henchman? Will you submit to Corrish arrogance? Will you swallow their outrageous lies any longer? They behave as masters of the world, sending their soldiers wherever other nations are establishing favorable commercial connections... When will they decide that the Rum Islands need "protection", or that Altonia deserves the same fate they reserved to Balondia, once a free nation, a friend of both Oleon and Eslandola? When will they decide to help the next Nova Malto? A Loyal Terraversan Citizen Credit to @Bodi for the build

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?

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.

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.

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!

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...

King's Port, Terraversa, 20th February 621 They had done it! After the fierce battle for the shore and the coastal batteries, after the long siege and the battles in the streets, after two full days of brutal room-to-room fighting in the Palace of the Archduke, King's Port had finally fallen! On the other side of the monumental square, now a labyrinth of trenches, moats and barricades, they could see the Council Hall, where the Archduke Guards and a company of Altonian mercenaries had made their last stand. With their surrender, just a couple of hours before, the Battle for King's Port was definitively over. Philip climbed one of the pinnacles of Oldis' Palace and started waving the blue flag of Oleon. Down in the streets, dozens of soldiers were watching, cheering and throwing their hats in the air. Just a few years before, the Raiders were considered the scum of the Empire, a discipline unit to be sacrificed as far as possible from the motherland. Now they were hoisting the colors of the Nation, celebrating the victory of Oleon over its enemies! ------------ My first attempt with forced perspective, I hope you like it... the inspiration is the famous picture of the Red Flag over the Reichstag.

Franz Koran saw an opportunity and took it. With the war in Terraversa over, the city of Tanari on the western coast was located away from Oldis' tax collectors in King's Port, the Eslandolan trade barons in Pamu, the strict rule of law in the Oleon territories and Corrington's orderly influence in Westface. He and his crew claimed a small rocky island in Tanari cove and built a tower. From the tower, they could quickly unload goods from ships and then row them ashore - tax free of course. He specialized in the finer goods: books, sherries, scented candles, rum. The luxuries went for a pretty penny once they reached the island. When he saw a ship approaching, he would fire his flintlock pistol into the air and wait to hear the correct countersignal. Koran kept a stash of Terraversa, Oleonese, and Corlander flags at the ready in case some sort of authority showed up and they needed to appear legitimate. ---- OOC: My submission for CH IV - CAT F: Smugglers Den. Wanted to try making an island that didn't have any tan or dark tan! Didn't have any wedge plates in nougat, so used quarter round tiles. Also experimented with a stepped SNOT base for the tower.

Cooke was tired. Having escaped Kings Port and later been part of an Atwi ambush near the city, he had been looking for a friendly settlement. Avoiding patrols, checkpoints, and the nosier locals was exhausting, and his sea-legs were not suited for the hard, unforgiving land. Everywhere he went seemed to be occupied and swarming with bluecoats. Finally, he had found a track leading to a farm where he could rest his weary body under a tree, shaded from the burning sun. Quickly dozing off into restorative sleep, he left his worries behind - being taken up now would most certainly see him executed as a spy, regardless of his explanations. He *was* out of uniform. Suddenly, he felt the prodding of a musket butt and the insistent orders in an accented Terraversan. "Papers, now! What are you doing 'ere? This is Oleonese territory, and I shall see your papers - Are you a spy, per'aps?" The young soldier's arrogance was false confidence, but Cooke had no time to think. He had no choice... ____________________ Nothing major - just a small build to progress Cooke's story - I somehow need to get him back on the deck of his ship Also, no bluecoats were harmed in the making of this build...

After returning from a reconnaissance mission across eastern Terraversa with Colonel Allcock, Major Brickford oversees a group of 47th Foot as they use machetes, hatchets, axes, and chains to clear and expand the single tracks that crisscross the interior. If the Corlander Army needs to bring field artillery north, they'll be ready!