《Encyclopaedia: A Collection of Accounts》 The Coming Storm, 1660 The year is 1660. War is brewing and thousands will die once more. The Maecktian Empire though overextended and close to collapse a decade ago has been consolidated under the rule of Willander II. With every passing day Imperial prosperity and strength grows with wealth flowing in from their trade routes. The silver from the mines of Haggrum buy the spices from Sodonia which are then sold in the North for staggering prices. The profit from the North then buys vast amounts of wheat from the Far West which feeds the Imperial military. A military which has now finally recovered from its great losses in the previous war. The core of veteran soldiers that crushed the uprisings in the aftermath of the Imperial defeat have been reinforced with fresh recruits from all over the provinces. Their weapons and armour have almost all been replaced with dwarven steel, making them deadlier then ever before. This new army is led by young talented commanders fresh from the Keizefurt officer academies, chosen by the emperor Willander himself to ensure their loyalty. For the past ten years these officers have been drilling and training their soldiers, turning them into an elite fighting force anxiously waiting for their first great test. The Imperial navy, that fights privateering wars as far south as the Sodonian Sea and as far west as the Neiw Haase, knows no match in size and strength. Armed with their dwarven ballistas the Maecktian ships are the deadliest force on the seas. The only weakness that plagues the Maecktian navy is how far stretched out their fleets are. The Maecktian Empire is a great behemoth to reckon with yet who is to bring about this reckoning? In the north the kingdoms of the Traak Coalition still stand triumphant. In the years after their crushing victory over the empire, the ties between the kings have only strengthened. The marriage between King Aryan of Meteizen and Queen Priscilla of Vidanis have all but united these two kingdoms in common rule, with Aryan and Priscilla acting as co-rulers. Though at first threatened by the power imbalance it created within the alliance, the other kings, Pavel of Kragge, Trenmer of Deveern and Dys of Olgrand did not break up the coalition, as they too began to intermarry to strengthen their bonds. Despite the Traak Coalition being more united than ever, it still deals with a great many problems, most important of these being economic ones. Merchants and traders of the kingdoms can barely compete with the Imperial mercantile might. The only things that seems to be keeping Maecktian merchants and producers from monopolising the entire northern market are the high tariffs and trade restrictions that limit Maecktian activity within Coalition borders. The only profitable trade route that seems to exist for northern traders is in the Far West, where Vidanis and Meteizen have established a foothold only because of the sanctions the Zeeburg Treaty placed upon the Empire. Losing these colonies would put the Coalition kingdoms in even more economic peril, which might be why so much effort is put into holding and expanding them. The privateering war between the Maecktian Empire and Vidanis and Meteizen in Western Waters is only one example of the many measures taken by the kingdoms to ensure the survival of their western trade route. Many criminals in the Coalition kingdoms can expect an amnesty if they are willing to settle in the vast lands of the Far West to add to the labour power there. Gangs of outlaws in the West are secretly hired by Coalition spies to raid Maecktian villages, even though the favour is returned to them in equal measure. Just a week ago the thousand man strong mercenary band of Ivar Ludikis landed in Ororia, to ¡°ensure safety¡± in the countryside. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. The eyes of the Traak Coalition monarchs are not solely focused on the Far West though. There are plenty of problems to their south as well. In their protectorate Rieve, or as the Maecktians call it Midlandt, the rule of their puppet duke Bergar has proven to be rather tenuous. The duke¡¯s rule only extends to the towns and cities, the countryside is almost completely in the hands of the Duke¡¯s Men: Guerrilla fighters who are led by a man who claims to be Duke Oskar, the rightful ruler of the dukedom, who was believed to have died in the wake of the Maecktian invasion of the country. This Duke Oskar, imposter or not, has many followers and has spent the last decade fighting a bloody insurrection war in Rieve. Nobles or towns loyal to Bergar, as well as any Coalition forces residing in Rieve have been attacked by the Duke¡¯s Men. Many attempts have been made to hunt down and kill the Duke, yet all have ended in failure. The activities of the Duke¡¯s Men have prevented the Traak Coalition from building the defensive fortifications they have wanted in Rieve since the signing of the Zeeburg Peace. The kings¡¯ generals had wanted to build many forts in Rieve, so that in case of another Maecktian invasion the war would be fought out in a grinding stalemate in Rievian land and not once again past the Traak into the Traak kingdoms themselves. As it stands however Rieve is virtually defenceless from any attack from the south and the guerrilla war drags on wasting Coalition resources. In the case of an Maecktian invasion, which is becoming ever more likely, the existence of the Traak kingdoms will once again be threatened. The odds are stacked against the Coalition. yet the Maecktian war machine was stopped by them before so who is to say it cannot happen again. Just like the Empire was defeated in the North, it too was once bested in the South. Though now half a century ago, the Battle of Infe was a testament to the strength of the Sodonian city states when they are unified. That bloody victory won in the Sodonian sea ensured the continued independence of Sodonia from imperial rule. The Maecktian Empire is still a major player in the South however despite giving up on political domination of the territory it still wages war on the Sodonian city states. Nearly everyday ships are sunk in the Sodonian sea by Imperial privateers, corsairs or Sodonian warships in the unofficial privateering war between the Maecktian outposts and the city states. It is because of this war that the Sodonian cities are still loosely allied, instead of resuming the traditional territorial wars between each other. The alliance may not appear as strong as that of the Traak Coalition in the North, yet it has withstood fifty years of Maecktian intrigue and bribing. In the year following the defeat of Maeckt in the North the city states even launched a second assault at Gadna though this assault met the same fate as the last one. As long as the alliance holds the power balance in the South will remain a stalemate with neither side strong enough to deal a fatal blow to the other. The only things that could upset this balance are either a betrayal within the Sodonian alliance or a Maecktian collapse. For both of these possibilities many plots are in motion, it has even been said that Sodonian emissaries and those of the Traak Coalition have been in contact with each other to negotiate a defensive pact. This is the current state of our world. We are on the precipice of a calamitious series of wars that will decide the fate of many. Before this all unfolds however you must know how we ended up in the calm of this storm. For if you want to understand the present, you must first know the past. -Your Humble Encyclopaedist, 1660 The Coalition War Swamps and forests that is all the North is. The land is not rich like that behind the Hoogpiek Mountains and conquest of it would add little to the empire. This is what I told emperor Engelbert in the hopes of persuading him to keep the peace rather than waste resources in war. Engelbert, as weak emperors are wont to do, refused to listen to wise advice, instead favouring the words of warmongering marshals and generals who told him that a great military victory was necessary to secure his throne. Pure foolishness of course, considering I and his father had spent the past twenty years strengthening imperial power and disposing of any overly ambitious aristocrats or merchants that stood in the way. I told the emperor this as well and yet again he refused to listen. So preparations for war were made: troops were mobilised, taxes were raised and the imperial forges burned day and night. The target would be Midlandt, the impoverished duchy that is the gateway to the lands further north. The campaign was to be short and sweet. Our armies would sweep through the poorly defended dukedom and take the fortresses that protected the crossings of the major natural obstacle, that is the broad, slow flowing Traak river. This was how the generals envisioned it at least but, as this story will show, the military¡¯s enthusiastic projections should always be distrusted. The invasion force was finally ready in the spring of 1645 when two armies led by generals Alarik Grootland and Kornelius van Hove crossed into the high grass of Midlandt, with fire and steel in hand. Villages were pillaged, fields were burned, and peasants were massacred. All the dirty wartime business. It all seemed to go rather smoothly just like the generals had promised. In the first month the Midlandian duke and his army had been decimated in an ambush while the few castles and cities of the land preferred surrender over destruction. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Everyone was saying that the war would be over before summer even started, until the newly formed Traak Coalition joined the war. Sure, the Coalition army led by Albert Waterland was defeated at Hertenbos the moment they crossed the Traak to engage our forces, yet now we ourselves were forced to cross the Traak to deal with five kingdoms united in a common cause against us. The war dragged on for four more expensive bloody years before disaster struck first at Wateren and then at Baaker, not to mention the foolishness that was the Grijswater expedition. We were defeated and I had to urge Engelbert to sign the treaty of Zeeburg before things worsened. I had already seen trouble brewing in the capital, I had foiled countless plots of opportunistic merchants and prevented a coup of a cabal of nobles, yet this would prove to be inadequate. Chaos erupted in the provinces in the wake of the peace treaty, with freedom fighters appearing everywhere. Several of our governors had to flee their palaces to avoid capture or execution. While the provinces were in open revolt a group of Maecktian nobles saw an opportunity to capture emperor Engelbert and so they did. After killing any loyalist opposition in the capital, the conspirators put the emperor¡¯s cousin Dietrich as a puppet on the throne. I would have been killed as well if I had not had the foresight to flee the capital for the army camp of crown prince Willander. The prince welcomed my service and with my advice he brought order back within the borders. He crushed the revolts in the provinces and put down the coup with an iron fist, freeing his father from the grasp of the conspirators. Then Engelbert abdicated his throne to Willander, the only wise decision he made during his reign. Willander is not like his father, he more resembles the old emperors: he is cunning, ambitious, and ruthless when he needs to be. With Willander on the throne and me as his chancellor the Empire is in good hands once more. -Imperial Chancellor Vreemde, 1651 Broken Dreams of Revolution Emperor Engelbert was not a man who ever deserved to sit on the Imperial throne, his brothers were yet they, like their father, had succumbed to plague. So, as it so often does, hereditary succession punished the people and put a crown on the head of a half-witted buffoon. Engelbert¡¯s early rule was unremarkable, yet there were already signs of his incompetence and disinterest in ruling, signs that would become all the more apparent when the war started. Invading Midlandt was a fool¡¯s errand that would only provoke the aggression of the Traak Coalition. I am told Engelbert only did it so that his warmongering generals would stop bothering him with their requests for a military expedition. Something I am inclined to believe as someone who has spent a considerable amount of time with the man. What happened next is of course well known to all. Midlandt was quickly overrun by imperial troops which caused the Traak Coalition to declare war on the empire to save its subjugated southern neighbour. Several years of bloody warfare followed which would end in imperial humiliation first at Wateren and then at Baaker not to mention the lunacy that was the Grijswater Expedition. Unlike many young noblemen at the time I was at court as these events unfolded getting caught up in the intrigues of the aristocracy, instead of getting my head caved in by northerners on the battlefield. I meddled in the courtly intrigues with a vision in mind, to free the empire from the autocratic rule of the Imperial family, for I am a Kapelist, a follower of the ideas of Johannes de Kapel. Kapelists believe the power of the monarch should be restrained by a constitution and a parliament of nobles who were elected from amongst the aristocracy itself. A conspiracy was needed to overthrow the emperor and bring about a more enlightened empire, thus I sought support for my ideas which I soon found in my more powerful peers, Arnold Bekker, duke of Hassen and Wilfred Sperden, count of Kalmen. Though they were not Kapelists like myself, I naively assumed I could convince them of my cause. I was very wrong. Sperden and Bekker did not care for enlightened rule, they only cared for their own power, they wanted to restore the nobility to its former glory by putting a puppet emperor on the throne. The puppet they had in mind was Engelbert¡¯s cousin Dietrich, who happened to be the son-in-law of Bekker and who was very eager to wear a crown. Being a co-conspirator I was allowed to meet Dietrich myself, who turned out to be not only stupider than Engelbert but also an arrogant sycophant. Yet, I did not voice my complaints as I was still holding on to my foolish hope of being able to implement the constitutional monarchy I wanted when we finally seized power. The moment we would seize power could not come soon enough for me. The entire last year of the war I urged for us to strike. We had already bought the Imperial Guard by then, and the Keizefurt city watch was led by Sperden¡¯s brother Isaak who was a fellow conspirator. Even though all the pieces were in place Sperden and Bekker convinced me to wait for the opportune moment to strike, which finally came when the army was defeated in the north and instead of avenging the losses, Engelbert opted for peace. This cast the empire into chaos and gave us our long awaited opportunity. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. Within a day we had captured Keizefurt and dethroned Engelbert. Dietrich was proclaimed as the new emperor while Engelbert was confined to an estate in southern Maeckt. Sperden and I wanted Engelbert executed but Bekker persuaded us he would be a valuable bargaining chip to use against the crown prince Willander, whom we heard was marching down south with an army to take our heads. Though we were initially successful everything soon went downhill. We did not manage to capture the Maecktian nobility that was loyal to the emperor during our coup, so they were able to flee to their estates forcing us to waste soldiers in skirmishes in the countryside. Sperden had hoped to break the spirits of the resistance by sacking the mansion of the Holle family, yet this proved unsuccessful, mainly because the news of the victories of the crown prince against the separatists in the provinces emboldened the loyalists. As this turmoil was going on I decided to write a constitution for the new Maeckian state, a draft of which I showed to Bekker and Sperden. They firmly rejected the draft and also the idea of implementing a constitution. They called me a foolish revolutionary and sent me back to my quarters where I was put on house arrest to prevent me from causing possible turmoil. In the weeks that followed my confinement the coup would rapidly fall apart. The negotiations with Leander de Osina ,the governor of Spiria, failed as the emissaries were arrested for treason. Soon after de Osina granted Willander free passage through the province and helped him cross the Ado. The force that tried to stop the crown prince¡¯s advance, led by Sperden, was then smashed to pieces in the Battle of Hasever, even though Sperden threatened to kill Engelbert if Willander attacked. Sperden died in the fighting leaving Bekker in charge of Keizefurt, which descended into riots as Willander was approaching the city. The city watch tried to restore order but failed and what was left of the coup¡¯s forces retreated to the Imperial Palace to await the crown prince. The moment I heard the news of the defeat at Hasever I knew I had to escape. Luckily for me I had connections in the Sodonian trade. I managed to sneak myself onto a ship of a dear merchant friend of mine which was headed south, first to Gadna and then to the Sodonian city states. I would be an exile for the rest of my days but I would live. Something that cannot be said of my fellow conspirators. I got news of their fates when we stopped at Minaburg. Five days after my escape the crown prince stormed the Imperial Palace. Bekker was captured and then publicly executed. He was broken on the wheel before he was beheaded. As for the Imperial guard, they too met a gruesome end. After they surrendered Engelbert to the crown prince they were all impaled on pikes. I now sit in this strange land hoping for a return that will never happen. The little influence I had back home no longer exists. I hear my estate has been sold off to some merchant and that the rest of my family has been exiled from the capital to the provinces. I was a fool to believe I could change anything I suppose. I¡¯ll languish here in the hot sun dreaming until my death, dreaming of home and a better future. -Luca Edenman, Sodonia,1653 The Imperial Guard I still remember the day me and my mates first set foot in the Imperial Palace. We all were young dwarves then that had never even set foot outside of Haggrum, so the journey to, and the arrival at Keizefurt had been quite the adventure for us youngsters. We of course did not show our amazement, we had been sent to the Maecktian capital for professional business important to the standing of dwarves within the Empire. The emperor had summoned the best young warriors from Haggrum to serve as his imperial guard, so we acted like cold professionals instead of the awestruck youngsters we really were. At first, I did not know why the emperor would want dwarves as his guards, but then again I did not know much of anything going on outside of the Haggrum city walls. I also did not speak the Maecktian tongue at the time which made explaining things to me rather difficult. Only after two years at court did I understand why the emperor wanted dwarves for guards instead of human knights. Apparently the emperor¡¯s father, emperor Engelbert, had fought a war against his own aristocracy for reasons still unclear to me. In this war he had been betrayed by his own imperial guard who had captured him and offered the imperial throne to the cousin of the emperor, Dietrich, I think the cousin¡¯s name was. Emperor Willander freed his father from this predicament and he eventually won the war. The entire imperial guard was put to death in various painful and elaborate ways as befits traitors, but Willander, who had become emperor after his father abdicated, had become rightly paranoid of human guardsman who always seem to have certain political ambitions, so he looked elsewhere for protection. Luckily for him his grandfather had vassalized our lands in the last years of his reign. Us dwarves were, and still are, regarded as skilled loyal warriors with little interest in human politics, so it was hardly surprising that emperor Willander II approached King Lucius IV of Haggrum for protection. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. At the time there was much argument among our elders about whether we should send the greatest warriors of our magnificent city to the capital of the foreign invader, yet after much negotiating and a large amount of Maecktian gulden, I and two hundred of my mates were sent south to protect the emperor of Maeckt. That is a decade ago now, and me and most of my comrades still hold our posts. In these years I have learned that the imperial court is a pit of vipers. The aristocrats, the courtiers, the knights and the sorcerers are all overly ambitious sycophants that lie and cheat for higher social standing. In our early years we had been approached uncountable times by lowlifes who attempted to bribe us, to have us spy on the emperor for them. They were all denied and arrested shortly after for treason. We have been called fanatically devoted to our emperor ever since because humans apparently cannot fathom that we would not defile our honour in favour of a hefty coin purse. The value of honour and loyalty is lost on you humans but not on us, we will guard the emperor even if hell itself was coming down on him, because we swore an oath we would. -Claudius, Imperial Guardsman, 1660 They look like statues with those masks on. Small steel statues. Back in the day the Guard had helmets sure but you could still see their face. It was part of the legend of the Guard. You could see them and everyone knew at least ten Guardsman by name. They were heroes of the Empire that every woman wanted to be with and every man wanted to be like. The epitome of knighthood. Nowadays no one knows the names of the Emperor¡¯s Dwarves. I doubt anyone outside of the imperial family have ever seen their faces. -George Bruggen, Courtier, 1554 The Dukes Men Our country bleeds. Invaders from both north and south have burned, pillaged and murdered their way through it. A puppet duke sits on the throne while our liege, the true ruler of this land, is forced to hide in the grass. How could this have come about you might ask? For that we will have to go back ten years. I was there, waiting in the high grass along with the other of the Duke¡¯s men when we heard the trumpet. It was not our horn. Not our signal to attack. The men were worried. Worry turned into dread when the shrill trumpet blast was followed by the clattering of hooves. Within moments the Maecktian cavalry crashed into our ranks. Panic erupted. The few who stood and fought were quickly slaughtered. The rest routed. Regrettably I was also among those who ran. I was still a boy then, lacking courage and experience. If I was there today, I would have stood and died bravely for my duke and country. Yet these hypotheticals are useless now. The point is that the duke¡¯s army was broken by the Maecktian cavalry and scattered in the four winds. Most importantly it was believed that duke Oskar was dead. In the month after the battle most of the Rieve lords surrendered their castles to the invader. I was hiding in the grass at this time with a band of other former soldiers. We ambushed Maecktian supply wagons and to my shame extorted villages to feed ourselves. We were bandits... I was a bandit. As Bergar, the puppet, marched into Rieve with the Coalition army to throw out the Maecktian invader, I was drinking and stealing behind the front lines. I enjoyed that life, taking whatever I wanted and killing anyone who stood in the way. I was lost then. Not even when news reached us that the Duke had survived the battle and was leading a band of men in a guerrilla war against the Maecktians did I remember my duty to Rieve. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. I carried on robbing and killing until one day we ran into an ambush. Arrows flew everywhere, killing my comrades left and right. Armed men jumped out of the high grass surrounding us completely. It was clear to me that this was the end, so I threw down my sword and prayed for the gods to be merciful. Luckily for me, they were. A man with an iron mask stepped forward. Instead of butchering us like we deserved, he was here to make us an offer, he announced to us. To join him in the fight for his dukedom or to die in the dirt for nothing. Needless to say the choice was easy. I, along with the others, kneeled before him and swore our loyalty to him. From that day on I was a Dukeman. I was put in the commando of Ser Harald, one of the few nobles who had not pledged his sword to the false duke. Our commando was no more than forty men but still we wreacked havoc in the Maecktian rear. Raiding supply lines, killing messengers and sabotaging roads, we became notorious. At the end of the war we spent many days tracking and killing the survivors of Baaker and Wateren that had made it across the river. We did our part in the war and foolishly expected a reward for it. When the peace negotiations started duke Oskar rode to Rieve to take part in them, only to be imprisoned. The Coalition wanted to put their little puppet, the duke¡¯s half-brother Bergar, on the throne so they could control Rieve. When the Duke arrived at Rieve he was immediately captured by Coalition soldiers. The kings claimed he was merely an impersonator, not the real Duke Oskar as he had perished on the battlefield. A blatant lie of course, but a lie backed with thousands of swords, so the Duke was slated for execution when the peace talks were over. What the kings nor Bergar did not foresee, was that the Duke would escape before any treaty was signed. How he did it I do not know. He arrived at our fortress in Kaeront hill as a hero and the fight went on. This time not against Maecktians but against Deveernians, Vidanians, Meteizians, Kraggians and our own country men. Blood still flows and it will flow until the Duke returns to his rightful throne. Aryan, Dukeman Commando, 1657 The High Grass I do not believe anyone has ever described Midlandt as a welcoming place. The first things travellers are met with when they cross the Imperial border into the duchy are fields upon fields of high grass. Something that would be considered a weed in any civilized nation is allowed to grow freely and abundantly in Midlandt. The people live of it. They fuel their fires with it, they make their roofs from it, they feed it to their livestock and in times of hunger, even eat it themselves. The high grass prevents nearly every other kind of cultivation, so the Midlandians depend almost solely on the meat of their cattle to survive. Few trees are able to grow amongst the grass, so due to the lack of lumber Midlandians are forced to dig their homes in the slight hills of their country. The only trees that seem to be able to withstand the high grass are those of the Tilia species, and Midlandians worship these as if they are Gods, making prayers to them, and it is said, even sacrificing humans at their roots. The attempts of missionaries to chop down these trees and to bring the teachings of the True Book to this savage land have all been met with violent resistance, leading to the death of many men of God. The tendency of these people to live beneath the earth might explain their pagan heathenism and rejection of the True Word of the Church, yet even the dwarves never treated the messengers of the Lord with such enmity. Some of my brothers say that the root of this pagan madness is the high grass itself. That within those walls of green, daemons reside that spread the ill influence of the Dark to the men that live amongst the grass. I do not condone these theories however and consider them nearly heretical. This talk of daemons is merely the result of fearmongering soldiers returning from the last war. After our army ravaged Midlandt in its conquest of the duchy, the generals foolishly believed to have destroyed any resistance in the country, even though any person with an iota of historical knowledge should have known the Midlandians have a penchant for guerrilla warfare. The concealment of the high grass lends itself perfectly for this enterprise. It would not take long for stories to circulate among our ranks about monsters hiding in the grass that ambushed and butchered wagon convoys in the rear. A person of a sound mind would of course realise that no such monsters existed. This harassing of the supply lines was obviously done by the remnants of the duke¡¯s army yet this is difficult to explain to the sole surviving soldier of a Dukesmen raid. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The underestimation of our generals of the dangers Midlandian guerrillas would pose in the high grass would cost us even more dearly following the defeats at Wateren and Baaker. Our retreating soldiers were easy prey in the grass. The only solace that I find in the North following our defeat is that the Coalition is now forced to deal with high grass raids instead of imperial men. From the intelligence I have received nearly all attempts of the Coalition to build forts along the Imperial border have failed. The resources that have to be brought down from northern Midlandt, the lands along the Traak where the high grass stops and forests grow, rarely reach their destinations. Almost all of these caravans are ransacked. If I were them I would simply give up on Midlandt all together and fortify the crossing fortresses. They would have done this I am sure if these forts were actually in their hands. Unfortunately for the Coalition their little puppet duke Bergar holds them, very tightly I might add, and might be persuaded to switch his allegiances if the Coalition becomes less inclined to support his claims to dukedom. I do not doubt that the emperor would happily welcome Bergar as his ally for a while in the next war. After imperial garrisons have arrived at his forts however I am not sure if Bergar will have any more value to us then. He would not want his country harmed, a wish the emperor and his military do not share. The next time the Imperial army crosses into Midlandt the high grass will burn. All of it: the grass, the pagans, the trees, everything will be reduced to ash. Ash that will leave the land fertile for Maecktian settlers. Just like the True Book says: flame purifies everything. The Dalleren Contract (Short Story) The corpse of the man was swaying in the wind as it hanged from the beech tree. Crows had picked out his eyes and taken off his nose leaving his face a bloody pulp. His once white shirt was covered in blood and dirt. The legs of the man had been cut off from the knee leaving a puddle of blood in the mud above which the man hanged. ¡®An imperial messenger riding from Dalleren to Hallesz Castle¡¯ said the captain in a severe gloomy voice. ¡®a hunter found him this morning.¡¯ Jurgen slowly looked the corpse up and down. Two days. He concluded. ¡®How many so far.¡¯ ¡®Including him? Fifteen.¡¯ ¡®All like this.¡¯ ¡®Yes. The dwarf leading them insists on cutting of their legs to ¡°put them down to normal size¡±.¡¯ ¡®A dwarf?¡¯ ¡®Not one from Haggrum but one from the south. Once a captain of a punitive expedition. Deserted after the Kirrina campaign and has been terrorising the region ever since.¡¯ ¡®What about his gang?¡¯ ¡®Fourteen other deserters most of them dwarves... Real cruel fuckers.¡¯ Jurgen stared at the corpse. ¡® I was told this was a one-man contract, yet you tell me this gang is fifteen experienced dwarven deserters. I am a skilled bounty hunter but no matter what the rumours say fifteen is too much for me.¡¯ ¡®The contract does not tell you to kill the dwarves it merely asks for the location with additional pay for any outlaw head you deliver to me or the bailiff. Find their hideout and me and my boys will make short work of them.¡¯ A rustling of leaves and cracking of sticks started coming from the undergrowth as a group of three imperial soldiers emerged. ¡®They are here for the body.¡¯ said the captain. ¡®Talk to the hunter he might have more information. Show me the way to those fucking midgets and you will be paid handsomely.¡¯ ¡®I will do what I can.¡¯ Jurgen shook the captain¡¯s hand and left the beech tree for the village of Dalleren, which was the hunter¡¯s home. Walking away Jurgen could hear the captain yelling orders at his soldiers. Jurgen¡¯s horse, a black mare, was standing where he left her, in a clearing by the road. He urged her on riding briskly to Dalleren. In the distance the sky was darkening, and chaffinches were flying overhead heralding rain. It was late in the afternoon when Folker arrived at the village. Dalleren was built around the Red Hen inn and consisted of only a couple of huts and a granary surrounded by a low palisade. At the gate Jurgen was greeted by the barking of a dog and an older man with a crossbow. ¡®Who goes there.¡¯ The older man called out to Jurgen. ¡®A bounty hunter looking to ask some questions.¡¯ Jurgen called back. ¡®A bounty hunter eh? Ride on through then, Larson will want to speak to you.¡¯ ¡®Who is Larson?¡¯ ¡®The innkeep. Follow me.¡¯ Following the older man to the inn it started to rain. Inside the inn it was warm and quite comfortable. The tables were mostly clean, and a large fire was roaring in the hearth. Behind the bar stood a tall stout moustached man, who must have been the innkeep Larson. He was pouring a drink for the customer sitting on the barstool opposite him. He turned his head towards the older man as he and Jurgen entered. ¡®Who have you brought here Jan.¡¯ The innkeep asked the older man. ¡®Someone who might be able to solve our trouble. He¡¯s a bounty hunter.¡¯ ¡®Here for the contract are you.¡¯ Larson said turning to Jurgen ¡®I am. I came here to talk to a hunter who found the corpse of the messenger.¡¯ ¡®Have a seat then.¡¯ Jurgen sat down next to the man drinking in silence. The older man named Jan also sat down. ¡®You want a drink.¡¯ Larson offered. Jurgen nodded and got passed a flagon. ¡®About the hunter.¡¯ Jurgen began after a silence. ¡®Where might I find him.¡¯ ¡®You¡¯re sitting next to him.¡¯ The man who had been silent up to this point replied in a drunken voice. ¡®I found the boy hanging from the tree. I saw black birds circling above the trees and I hoped an animal got caught in one of my traps, but God was I mistaken. I could hardly believe my eyes. That boy just hanging there and the blood. Oh God the blood.¡¯ ¡®It¡¯s okay Hans just finish your drink and go home to Maria.¡¯ Larson said. ¡®Bounty hunter perhaps we should talk in private. Jan take Hans home.¡¯ Larson led Jurgen into the kitchen. ¡®It has been very hard on him; this is the second one he has found. The last one was a farmer¡¯s wife that went missing washing clothes in the stream. He has been hitting the bottle ever since and this only made it worse I¡¯m afraid.¡¯ ¡®I am sorry for him, but I need to talk to him for information about the gang.¡¯ ¡®He won¡¯t tell you anything I don¡¯t know so ask me and leave him in peace, he needs it.¡¯ ¡®If I am to track the gang, I need to know about their movements. Where they were last seen, which way they were headed and what they were doing.¡¯ ¡®They pillaged Hoppedal a month ago, killing every man, woman and child. After that imperial soldiers showed up forcing them to lie low. They have been kidnapping and killing locals to pass the boredom waiting for winter when the soldiers leave. With the first snows approaching I¡¯m glad the bailiff finally decided to hire a professional.¡¯ ¡®Not much to go on but I can make it work. I¡¯ll need a place to sleep if I am to do this contract though.¡¯ ¡®You can stay here free of charge. It would be good to have extra protection. I¡¯ll even pay for you to stay in winter if you don¡¯t catch them before the snows.¡¯ ¡®That¡¯s awfully generous of you.¡¯ ¡®Generosity is not what motivates me. I have a wife and two daughters, and I¡¯ll be fucked if they end up like all those other poor souls.¡¯ Jurgen led his horse to the inn¡¯s stables after he was shown to his room. He did not have to sleep in the common room but got a separate space. Even though there were few guests Jurgen was still relieved, he did not have many fond memories of inn common rooms. He removed his sword and a copy of Adelman¡¯s Bestiary from his horse and returned to his chamber.It was midnight when Jurgen heard the thumping of hooves and cursing outside that sounded dwarvish. Without hesitating Jurgen dressed and grabbed his sword. Larson, and Jan, still wielding his unfired crossbow, were halfway across the hallway when Jurgen barged out of his room. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡®T-they¡¯re here Jurgen! They are going to attack the village please stop them!¡¯ Larson said out of breath. ¡®Find your wife and daughters and hide. Jan hand me the crossbow. If I don¡¯t come back, flee and find the captain.¡¯ Outside three dwarves with torches in their hands were arguing with two dwarves on horses. It was in dwarvish, not in the language of the dwarves of Haggrum but in the southern dwarven tongue. Folker understood most of it and from the tone of their voice gathered they were quite drunk. ¡®Hwar istentud dwach!¡¯ yelled one of the dwarves from his horse. Jurgen did not answer, instead aiming the crossbow at one of the mounted dwarves. He could see the dwarves clearly thanks to the moon and torchlight. They had braided black hair and beards adorned with golden rings. Over their chainmail they wore colourful fabrics, blue red, orange, purple and green. They looked odd and out of place in the rainy Kirrinan village. The dwarf was still shouting at Jurgen. Jurgen took a deep breathe and shot the yelling dwarf in his face between the eyes and threw aside the crossbow to unsheathe his sword. ¡®That¡¯s one¡¯ Jurgen thought. Though they seemed quite shaken the dwarves quickly reached for their weapons: axes, swords and clubs. The other mounted dwarf charged Jurgen with a spear in hand. Jurgen did not flinch nor run away from the charging horse, he wanted to kill. As the rider got closer and closer Jurgen could see the dwarf was ill at ease in the saddle. The dwarf clumsily jabbed his spear hoping to draw blood, yet he struck nothing but air. Jurgen ducked under the dwarven spear and like lightning sprang up again with his sword. If it were a human in the saddle the blade would have cut across the chest of the rider yet for the dwarf the steel slashed through his beard and cut his throat to the bone. Blood splattered Jurgen in passing as the horse charged on. With a hoarse croak the dwarf fell from the saddle, gargling up blood the dwarf perished in the mud. ¡®That makes two.¡¯ The remaining dwarves were now yelling angrily at Jurgen but hesitated to come closer. Finally, they came at Jurgen trying to surround him. Jurgen attacked first however lunging at the dwarf coming from his front. His sword clashed with steel the first time but with the second swing he found flesh, slashing the dwarf across his face. With an almost inhumanly quick turn Jurgen parried the blows of the two other dwarves rushing towards him. Jurgen counterattacked, with a quick swing of his sword the belly of one dwarf was rented open leaving the dwarf clutching his guts on the ground. Jurgen hacked at the hands of the second dwarf taking of several fingers. With a high-pitched scream, the dwarf dropped his axe and with a swift kick to the chest Jurgen forced him to the ground. Jurgen hit the still screaming dwarf repeatedly in the face with his sword pommel, breaking his nose and knocking out teeth. ¡®Sthop, please sthop.¡¯ The dwarf hissed through his remaining teeth. ¡®Where is the rest of your gang.¡¯ Jurgen growled angrily. ¡®Thfuck you.¡¯ He spit back. Jurgen threw aside his sword, looked at the dwarf, despite his beard the fear in his eyes made him look young. Jurgen hesitated for a moment but then remembered the hanged man and his stumped legs. He grabbed the dwarf¡¯s right leg and twisted it powerfully. The dwarf howled in pain. ¡®Now you won¡¯t run.¡¯ Jurgen left the howling dwarf and walked back to the inn. ¡®Larson! Jan! Where are you!¡¯ With a slight creak the kitchen door opened. Larson and Jan, visibly frightened by Jurgen¡¯s bloodied jerkin, emerged along with three other faces. They were Larson¡¯s wife and daughters. ¡®W-what happened, have they gone?¡¯ Larson asked ¡®In a sense.¡¯ Jurgen said ¡®Who¡¯s howling outside?¡¯ ¡®I need rope and a shovel.¡¯ ¡®F-for what.¡¯ ¡®The rope for the howling one and a shovel for the rest.¡¯ ¡®You left one alive!?¡¯ ¡®For information. I¡¯ll tie him up and bring him to the captain.¡¯ ¡®But the rest of the gang! They¡¯ll want to free him! They¡¯ll want revenge not only on you but on us!¡¯ Jurgen paused for a moment. ¡®You have a point there.¡¯ He began after a silence. ¡®I¡¯ll have to interrogate him here then but while I do that one of you must take my horse and ride to inform the imperials¡¯ ¡®One of the Plat boys can do that they were stable boys back when lord Gregor still ruled from Blumburg, I can wake them right now if they aren¡¯t awake already.¡¯ Said Jan ¡®Do that.¡¯ Jurgen said curtly. ¡®Larson follow me, we have a captive to tend to.¡¯ The dwarf was still lying in the mud cursing. Several of the other villagers were looking on from a distance. ¡®Everyone clear off! Larson will explain in the morning what happened!¡¯ Jurgen said to them. The few villagers returned startled back to their huts. After a couple of kicks and punches Larson and Jurgen managed to tie up the struggling dwarf. As they dragged him to the stable of the inn Jurgen¡¯s horse with a young man on its back rode quickly passed them. They tied the dwarf to a post in the stable, put a gag in his mouth and once again left for their beds. Jurgen did not sleep, however. He began perusing the copy of Adelman¡¯s bestiary that he had taken with him. It was a book full of useful information for one who spends most of his time in the wild. Unfortunately, Adelman was not a man of progressive ideas. On the contrary, in his magnum opus that was his bestiary Adelman classified dwarves as beasts. But Adelman being the diligent scholar that he was did give an extensive description of the cultures and habits of both the dwarves from Haggrum and the southern dwarves which were pieces of information Jurgen could make use of. One of these pieces of information being that the male beard had significant religious and societal importance in southern dwarven society. The red sunrise brought a foggy morning with it. Jurgen ate a quick breakfast of dried meat and hard tack in his room then he walked to the stable dagger in hand. The dwarf was still tied up with a bloodied face and a broken leg. ¡®Good morning, my dwarven friend.¡¯ Jurgen greeted as he pulled out the gag from the dwarf¡¯s mouth. ¡®Bletwe kartz.¡¯ He moaned hoarsely. Jurgen kneeled down to the dwarf¡¯s level, grabbing a hold of his beard and putting his dagger against it. ¡®Here is what¡¯s going to happen, you are going to tell me where your friends are, or I am going to cut off your precious beard.¡¯ The eyes of the dwarf widened at Jurgen¡¯s words as he tried his hardest to struggle away from Jurgen¡¯s iron grip. To no avail. ¡®Phlease, phlease I will tell you everything.¡¯ The dwarf squealed after a while. ¡®Where is the hideout.¡¯ ¡®There are setheral, but I know whith one they are in now. It¡¯s an abandoned mineshaftht three miles north of here. Now Pleathe put the knithe away.¡¯ ¡®Thank you, very much.¡¯ Jurgen stuck the knife in the dwarf¡¯s throat and within seconds he was dead. Jurgen cut the dwarf free, took a shovel from the stable and dragged the dwarf outside the palisade surrounding Wateren so that he could bury him, and his comrades who were still lying dead in the mud. Jurgen had just dug the third grave when Larson found him. ¡®You already killed him?¡¯ Larson asked holding a shovel in his hand. ¡®I did.¡¯ Jurgen replied. ¡®Learn anything useful.¡¯ ¡®Very. When our friend Maecktian friends get here those dwarves won¡¯t be a problem for long.¡¯ ¡®That is good to hear. I can finally rest easy.¡¯ ¡®Not yet. When the captain gets here, I¡¯d ask him to leave some soldiers behind for protection.¡¯ ¡®I will. You need help digging?¡¯ ¡®No, get back to your family Larson they need you more than I need you.¡¯ ¡®Thank you Jurgen.¡¯ Jurgen did not answer him. Killing was nothing to be thankful for. He merely wanted his payment and get back on the path. Jurgen finished digging at noon. Wiping the sweat from his brow he returned to the inn for a drink. Before he even opened the door however he heard the thundering of hooves heralding the arrival of the captain and his men. Jurgen was the first to greet them. ¡®Good day Jurgen.¡¯ Said the captain. ¡®Only a day has past and already you have proven your worth. Where is the captive?¡¯ ¡®In the ground along with his friends, no need to morn his loss though he already told me their hideout, a mineshaft three miles north from here.¡¯ ¡®The mineshaft north of here, my men know the place. You¡¯ve done excellent work and have more than deserved your reward.¡¯ He threw Jurgen a pouch of gulden ¡®for finding the hideout¡¯ He then threw another one ¡®and for killing those midgets. Me and my boys will take it from here. Good luck on the path.¡¯ ¡®Same to you.¡¯ Replied Jurgen and the captain rode off with his men. Before they left the palisade however Larson stopped them and requested some troops be left behind to protect the village. ¡®I see no need for that Larson.¡¯ The captain said. ¡®The midgets don¡¯t know what happened to their comrades yet and we¡¯ll have killed them before they do. Besides if worst comes to worst you have a seasoned bounty hunter staying at your inn.¡¯ And with those words the captain and his men left Dalleren. Luckily that was the end of it. In the evening of that day Captain Klaas and his men returned to Dalleren with seven dwarven and three human heads hanging from their horses. They were carrying two Maecktian corpses as well, it had not been a fully clean raid. The captain told Jurgen about the fight. They had taken the bandits by surprise and killed most of them with crossbows in the first phase of the engagement. One of the dwarves and a human had still managed to kill the two Maecktians with a return folly of a throwing axe and a javelin however. The Captain seemed sorrowful about the loss. After finishing his account he bid Jurgen farewell and headed back to his garrison in the ruins of Blumburg. Early in the morning of the next day Jurgen also left Dalleren, in search of another contract before winter.