A tale told

The Jotun revere their ancestors - they are the most devout of all the orc nations and treat their ancestors like gods.

Prelude to Invasion

The Summer Storm, the Bloodcloaks, and the Green Shields withdraw from Skallahn, out of Iron Stand into Sermersuaq. Back in Wintermark, they join up with four other Imperial armies... and barely missing a beat launch an overwhelming invasion of Tromsa, believed to be the northernmost of the Jotun territories.

They're joined by the Strong Reeds, the Tusks, and the Bounders, three armies of Marchers hunting the fugitive Mathilda Fisher, believed to have taken refuge with the Jarl of Tromsa after her comprehensive defeat in Bregasland. They're also joined by the Fire of the South, the Freeborn army making a forced march the length of the Empire from Kahraman.

Seven Imperial armies. Some thirty-five thousand soldiers from four nations, supported by more than twenty-five thousand warriors fighting as part of elite warbands, lead by Imperial captains. They're also supported by ten thousand fey knights from the Fields of Glory, a splendid rainbow of armoured warriors that glow with inner light, called forth by Imperial magicians.

Bloodcloaks, my Rhyv rimmed grimnir, my dauntless warlike champions, the Jotun look to us in Skallahn but we have greater work in the north. We will be the mighty host to the Mark. The unyielding storm. Fear no engagement. Dare every heroism. The greenshield out tireless triumphannt vanguard. We take Tromsa here. Now. Conversion requires common ground. Let's take some.

Lofyn Blood-cloak, General of the Blood Cloaks

Heroes of the Greenshield, hail to thee! Captains go to the Bloodcloak, her war host will walk us to triumph. We go to the vanguard, blood-glistening spears to cut them a way. Triumphant charge across the border, be first amongst the foe. All of the West comes with you, join us and see, heralds of Janon. Arm in arm to hard won war-play come summer swords and elfin-shot. To Jarl Olgaf we taken this war time, shields will be sundered! That war day, that red day, now comes early to Tromsa.

Iron Osric, General of the Green Shield

Every army save the Fire of the South and the Strong Reeds marches with a contingent of the Summer heralds – and the Fire of the South have their own allies. Snow-white warriors in coal-black around, lips and eyes red as blood, armed with viciously hooked and serrated blades. Clanking and whispering with the chains that adorn or bind them, have been sent by the Bound King to aid the bold Freeborn. Apparently the Thrice-cursed King appreciated the Winter magic the army used in Kahraman, and in return for allowing him to slake his hunger in the Brass Coast, he has sent his court to support the Freeborn just as he has the Dawnish and the Navarr in the past.

The Green Shields and Summer Storm have additional allies. One dark night shortly before entering Tromsa, a double handful of lithe, crimson dancers emerge from the shadows to march alongside the Winterfolk, and another score or so with the Imperial Orcs. Barely armoured, scarlet skin covered with intricate golden tattoos, they are full of passionate intensity, inspiring their fellow warriors and urging them to embrace the things that rule their hearts. In battle they are relentless, full of unquenchable energy, leaping and spinning through the fray with their short spears. Emissaries of the Shadowed Fire, there at the behest of the generals. Their presence is not welcomed by the Summer Knights fighting with those armies, but for the most part they do their best to ignore Janon's chosen. Unfortunately the unpredictable heralds of the Shadowed Flame seem to take that as a personal challenge, seeking opportunities to show elfin warriors up on the battlefield, or infuriate them when the fighting is over.

Shortly before the armies leave Sermersuaq, one final group of peculiar creatures turn up to join them. A contingent of short metallic creatures that seem to be made of silvery-white metal. They present themselves to the commanders of the Imperial forces, and say that they have been paid by the Academy of Heroes to “fight the Jotun somewhere.” They are beings of the Autumn realm, three odd little mercenary companies named the Plate Metal Reeves; the Tin Helms; and the Mercury Blades. The commanders are not entirely sure what to make of them but their intent seems sincere. They are not very strong – certainly not a match for any Imperial soldier - but they work very well together, perfectly drilled to fight alongside others and follow orders. They are also, patently, made of tin, which makes them very fragile. They are given roles as runners, although they insist on trying to fight alongside the much larger human and orc soldiers at every turn, in accordance with their contracts.

The armies gather in Stark, at the Fortress of Kalant. The presence of so many creatures of the realms alongside the Imperial forces conjures a peculiar atmosphere; there is something almost unreal at times about this campaign under the aching skies at the top of the world. Putting such feelings aside as best they can, once the gathering of forces is complete, Imperial troops cross the southern arm of the Lansipari, and drive west into Tromsa. The Green Shield lead the way, charging heroically into the unknown, but each of the other armies strives to match them - only the Fire of the South lag behind a little, tired from their long march north.

Freeborn, we take our fire north, let our passion be at the fore front. Let our flame burn bright. One more season of fighting the Jotun. We will fight cleanly as freeborn should. Joined by the bound kings knights. We will not execute, we will not attack those retreating. We will not attack the healers. Follow our flame!

Velasco i Guerra, General of the Fire of the South

Warriors of the Summer Storm! We have gone into Skallahan and heard Sjofn Bittenblade, now lets go into Tromsa! Let me formally invite the heralds of Jannon on our Overwhelming Assault on tromsa. Together we shall free the thralls and take back their land! We are going into battle with our ancestors and we shall see what Sjofn has to say as we take all we can!

Irontide Skorr, General of the Summer Storm

Into Icewood

Tromsa is ruled over by Jarl Olgaf Anagarsson, an experienced warrior known for his wildness, who heeds only the words of Yrsa Jansdóttir, Queen of Kalsea, and the counsel of his respected rival Ustigar, the aging Jarl of Kierheim. Much like Skallahn, he leads six lesser Jarls, each of whom presides over a single region, representing one of the great extended clans of the western orcs. It seems they are not expecting seventy-thousand Imperial soldiers. They have been caught flat-footed by the strategy of the Military Council, focusing their attention to the south, in Skallahn. That is not to say that the territory is defenceless – the Jotun are well known for building forts and castles wherever they go. Yet no castle, not even the Castle of Thorns, not even the unscalable walls of Holberg, can hold off seventy-thousand troops for long.

Not much is known about this cold northern territory; only what little was gleaned during the recent expedition to map the Sea of Snow, and stories of old campaigns against the Jotun have surprisingly little to say about it. There is snow here, even in the height of Summer. The land is rugged and wild, broken by hills that rise to mountainous heights in places. There is a particularly impressive peak at the heart of Tromsa, which the thralls say is called Mount Majastind and claim is the throne of the gods. The rest of the territory is peppered with unwelcoming forests, especially along the eastern borders.

One such forest is Icewood, the first region of Tromsa encounters by Imperials, a vast wild land that apparently runs the entire length of the eastern border. It's hills are covered in a cloak of ancient, black-barked trees – pine, fire, beggarwood, and spruce – and have few roads. This poses a challenge in itself, as do the predatory dire beasts that lurk in the depths of the forest. They mostly flee before large groups of soldiers, but smaller parties of scouts sometimes find themselves in dreadful life-or-death struggles with dire wolves, a behemoth ice bear, or even stranger creatures. There's also the problem of the cold. Even though the Summer Solstice is barely past, the weather is bitter. The Fire of the South in particular, feel the bite of the chill winds blowing down out of Sydanjaa, but even the Winterfolk are a little unprepared for just how sharp the fangs of these lazy winds prove to be.

There are Jotun here, mostly thralls in scattered villages who hunt the beasts of the forest – including the immense darkhide dire elk - or gather ambergelt and dragonbone from among the trees. As with Skallahn, they mostly flee when they encounter Imperial soldiers. The overwhelming majority are orcs - there appear to be very few human thralls in the Icewood. They are subjects of Jarl Bjørnda Bearcrusher, a doughty Jotun who it is said once crushed an ice-bear's head with her bare hands, and her warriors are quick to respond to the Imperial invasion. Bands of Ulfur begin to probe the Empire's forces, avoiding direct conflict, reporting back to their mistress, and marking the progress of the Imperial forces. Cunning Bearcrusher abandons her hall, rallying her warriors and as many of her thralls as she can, and retreating westward, once the sheer size of the Imperial forces massed against them is clear.

Icewood is claimed by the Empire within a handful of weeks, although the depths of the forest remain just as unknown as they were before. There is one particularly notable encounter in the north. A band of Bloodcloaks following a trail seemingly left by thralls fleeing a nearby settlement enter an area of the forest where the firs and pines are all marked with unfamiliar glyphs. These angular sigils are cut deep into the bark, and the trees are adorned with wood and bone tokens carved with the runes Hirmok, Irremais, and Wyr.

The Freeborn are not best suited for the cold of the far north, but there is a fire within them that keeps them warm no matter how chill the winds might be.

They have not progressed far, when a quartet of massive humanoid beings seemingly built of animal bones bound together with leather thongs and surmounted with the horned skulls or immense aurochs, elk, and moose emerge suddenly from the shadows. Their eyes burn with a dull blue fire, and between them walks an orc woman wearing an eyeless bird-mask and a feathered mantle. She warns the Winterfolk that they are trespassing – not on the lands of the Jarl Bjørnda but into the demesne of Fiksuvaris, Raðljóst's Guide. A domain where they are not welcome. An Icewalker with the scouts is able to determine that this area of forest belongs to, or has been claimed by, Wise Rangara – and that if the armies want to claim it they will need to fight the eternal to do so. The scouts wisely withdraw, leaving the decision of what to do about this place to someone else.

The place appears to be one of those peculiar embassies the Jotun maintain to the magical realms – places Imperial spies have seen in Hordalant, and whose existence inspired the creation of fanes in the Empire. At this time Wise Rangara seems disinclined to interfere in the conquest of the Icewood, so the decision is made to leave a small force of a hundred soldiers behind to keep an eye on the rune-marked woods, and to continue the invasion of Tromsa. It is a difficult decision though, especially given the dangers posted by Estavus' fane provided for Imperial forces in the recent campaign in Skallahn.

Skyfall

From the Icewood, the Imperial forces divide, pressing westward. The Marcher armies and the Fire of the South emerge from the forest in the south, while the Imperial Orcs and the Winterfolk leave the woods to the north-west, emerging onto a storm-swept tundra. These are the Skyfall Wastes, according to the thralls. No trees grow here, and if anything they are even more sparsely settled than the Icewood.

At night the northern lights are clearly visible in the clear skies, and barely a month after the height of Summer it is normal to awaken to frost on the ground and flurries of snow. All the orcs encountered wear sigils, marked with the rune Diras which they grudgingly explain hide them from the attention of the twisting ribbons of ice, and from the wicked spirits that sometimes come down from the north with the howlingwinds. Travel far enough north across the Skyfall Waste and one finds Tsirku, and the endless storm of Sydanjaa.

Jarl Hodne Hodnesson has a lightly fortified hall, built atop an artifial mound, in the southern part of the region. Considered something of a mystic in Jotun terms, Bjarnesson's warriors are no match for the Empire, but fight desperately to try and stem the Imperial advance. They know the tundra well, and use that to their advantage, but they are massively overmatched, and Hodnesshal swiftly falls. Hodne echoes Jarl Bjørnda; he and his champions retreat west. Skyfall is conquered.

This area includes Lake Karnakadatha, a massive body of water similar to those found in Sermersuaq that lies on the border between the Skyfall Wastes and Tsirku. The waters here are significantly warmer than those in the rest of the region, and numerous small settlements dot its shores. The main industry here is fishing, but that is not the reason that Jarl Hodnesson maintains several watchtowers and a force of warriors here. The lake was apparently formed long ages past when the Northern Lights apparently caused a fragment of star to fall and destroy the castle of a prideful Jarl. Star metal is commonly pulled from the depths of the lake, or found in the bellies of fish. Some of those fish are apparently very odd indeed. Both strange fish and star metal are sent south, to be used by the Jotun smiths, and are apparently the main reason Skyfall is settled at all.

Reeds! Folk heroes of Bregasland, we have shown the fire that burns in our hearts and run the Jotun and Fisher out of Bregasland. But do we stop there? Do we rest on our laurels? Of course not. We will take up the chase and march into their land, see how they fucking like it. March with me friends! Loyalty calls us to drag matilda fisher from her hole.

Amberlain P. Black , General of the Strong Reeds

Jacks of the Tusks! We march on Tromsa to take the war to Jotun homelands. Bring all your virtue to bear as we take away their means to wage war. They say fisher is hiding here, Leave no ground to go to.

Stanley Of Chalkdown , General of the Tusks

Marchers, I march as your general one last time. Infused with the power of summer we take the war to the Jotun and hated Mathilda Fisher should she be found. Tonight we strike, there is thunder in the sky, together we fight; some of us will die, they'll always remember how we made a stand, and many will die by our hand!

Ciaphas 'Black Jack' Dekar, General of the Bounders

Rikskog and the Battle of Viheltavathorn

West of Icewood, south of Skyfall, lie the lands of Jarl Klarra Sembansscion. Heavily forested in the east, the region becomes flatter and more open as one travels westward. The first actual farms are encountered – if you can call them as such. The Marchers scoff at the hardscrabble life that amounts to agriculture here. The soil is hard and cold, and most of the thralls focus on raising herd animals rather than trying to grow crops.

There are also a large number of burial mounds here – noticably more than the Imperial armies have encountered elsehwere in Skallahn or Tromsa. The thralls barely cooperate with the Imperial soldiers, but share a few stories of the long-ago battles between the Jarls of Skallahn and Tromsa. It seems these two territories have not always been so closely allied, although the stories strongly imply that these conflicts ended before the fall of Terunael.

These ancient battles may explain the presence of Viheltavathorn; the hall of the Jarl of Rikskog is a heavily fortified tower surrounded by a small town. The largest settlement the invaders have encountered so far, it is also the site of the first organised resistance against the Imperial armies.

Jarl Klarra Sembansscion leads the defence of Rikskog themselves. Warned by Jarl Bjørnda's Ulfur, they also have an unexpected ally. More than a thousand Yegarra, many with pike and pole-arm, are camped around Viheltavathorn. There had been stories that when they were driven out of Bregasland, the Fishers of Fisher's Rock did not return to their lands in Hordalant, but fled north. Rumour suggests that the Jarl of Tromsa owed his life to Mathilda Fisher, and that the would-be Steward of the Bregas has fled back to his lands. The fact that Mathilda's presence has brought the angry Marcher armies down on Tromsa is not likely to be overlooked.

The first actual battle takes place on the plains before the town, Jotun and Yegarra clashing with Marcher and Freeborn. Additional reinforcements begin to arrive from further west, lead by Jarl Olgaf Anagarsson himself. Several thousand Jotun, with a vanguard of massively heavy-armoured Skjaldir at their head. A siege is laid and for a very short time it looks as if the Empire's advance might end here.

Unfortunately for the Jotun, two days after the first clash, the rest of the Imperial armies arrive from the north. News of the Jotun forces reaches the ears of the Kallavesi among the Winterfolk armies, and with Skyfall Waste secured, they crash against the flanks of the Jotun defenders.

The Viheltavathorn falls before the Imperial hammer. Jarls Olgaf and Klarra try to hold the gates of the tower themselves, buying time for their forces to retreat, and when the rubble of the shattered fortification is searched their bodies are found, back to back, buried in the broken stone. At first there are wild rumours that Mathilda Fisher has perished alongside her ally. More than a dozen Marchers describe seeing her struck down by a blow from a bill that shattered ribs and spilled her bowls to the floor. It certainly sounds like a fatal blow - but there is no sign of her body among the fallen - nor can anyone identify who actually landed the fatal blow.

There's more than one way to bury a hatchet.

With or without Mathilda, the remaining Fishers retreat alongside their Jotun allies, and as soon as the last Jotun resistance is crushed the Empire's armies follow suit with the Bounders leading the way. The self-styled Steward of Bregasland will not escape Marcher justice again.

Tromsdalen and the Battle of Oksenesfestsal

West of Rikskog lies Tromsdalen, and another Jotun fortification. The region itself is rough and hilly, with perpetually snow-capped and cloud-wrapped mountains to the east. He region nestled between these high peaks, and the great Mount Majastind that lies in the centre of Tromsa.

The mountains of Tromsdalen are part of the same range as Eyrarfell, and on their eastern edge stands the Oksenesfestsal, a commanding fortification that also served as the seat of the Jarl of Tromsa himself before his death. The castle is massive – a match for the Castle of Thorns in Astolat – although there are signs that it has been expanded to its current size only within the last few years. More importantly, perhaps, there are signs that the structure is reinforced with adamant – the same almost indestructible stone of the Summer realm used in the construction of the Adamant Gate in Semmerholm, or the Court of the White Fountain in Redoubt. Three high towers surmount a massive curtain wall; the highest fashioned after the horned head of a massive aurochs. Serpentine dragons coil around the other two towers, giving a strong indication that this fort has been constructed in part at least with the aid of the Stone King.

The Jotun make a stand here, in the shadow of the mountains. It seems that the castle is under the command of Igya Olgafsdottir, who has some experience of dealing with Imperial armies and is by all accounts well-beloved by both the King Under the Mountain and the Queen of Air and Darkness. The surviving Jarls of the conquered regions – or their heirs – gather here reinforcing the garrison of the Oksenesfestsal, their banners hanging from the walls alongside those of Tromsa, and the bull-skull banners of Skjaldir, that popular faðir who epitomizes the tenacity of the Jotun people. Yet alongside the red and white banners of the Jotun hangs one single blue banner – the banner of the Fishers of Fisher's Rock. The Marchers prepare to assault the castle.

The walls of Oksenesfestal repel assault after assault, Jotun and Imperial troops alike falling left and right. As the Autumn Equinox approaches, it becomes more and more obvious that the Empire's momentum has faltered, absorbed by the adamant walls of the Jotun castle and its tenacious defenders. Yet there can be little doubt that momentum has carried Imperial soldiers further than any Jotun might have imagined in their wildest dreams, and seen them camped before the walls of the Jarl of Tromsa's own throne.

Heroism, Honour, and Cruelty

As always, the armies of Wintermark particularly fight heroically, seeking to defeat their opponents rather than slaughter them. This is obvious to all the Jotun they face... and it appears that this attitude is being reciprocated. During the battles of Viheltavathorn and Oksenesfestsal, it is clear that the Jotun engaged with the people of Wintermark hold back from killing where they do not need to, honouring their Winterfolk opponents. Despite this, some fifteen hundred Imperial soldiers die in the invasion of Tromsa. The Jotun have suffered significantly more serious casualties; the entire garrison of Viheltavathorn, many of the warriors of Icewood, Skyfall Waste, and Rikskog, and a large number of soldiers defending the walls of Oksenesfestsal.

Not everyone shows the honourable restraint of the Jotun and the Winterfolk; the general of the Fire of the South has instructed the Freeborn soldiers that "We will not execute, we will not attack those retreating. We will not attack the healers." This may be a reaction to the violence unleashed by the influence of the Winter enchantment that influenced them in Kahraman. Unfortunately, perhaps, the warrior-knights of Tharim broadly ignore this instruction. They don't risk Imperial lives to do so, but they relish opportunities to cut down those attempting to flee, and will execute fallen opponents unless a Freeborn captain is present to ensure that they do not. They take great pleasure in singling out healers, too, striking them down with icy-cold blades and chain-bound maces.

Whatever else has happened, it has become clear that Tromsa is a peculiar territory. Perhaps it is due to its presence on the edge of Tsirku; perhaps it is something else. The Imperial Orcs speak of there being something in the air here; those who feel a connection to warlike ancestors apparently find the voices clearer during the campaign into Tromsa. Those who can hear Sjöfn of the Bittenblade in particular report that it is even easier for them to hear the distant voice of that Jotun ancestor, urging them to fight heroically, gloriously, and revel in the clash of steel on the battlefield. Perhaps this is due to some spiritual or magical quality of the territory, or perhaps it is merely a symptom of the way the Imperial Orcs are internalising the lessons of the Illarawm. Another mystery, one that must wait until the fighting is done.

For while the Empire has done well, the fighting is very far from over. Mathilda Fisher is unaccounted for. Three fyrds have formed, made up of the defenders of Icewood, Skyfall Waste, and Rikskog, rally to the west. The Jarl of Tromsa may have fallen along with Viheltavathorn, but his daughter stands ready to take his place, and she is much more familiar with the heroes and soldiers of the Empire than her father. And much angrier with those who slew him.

More pressingly, there is news of an immense force of Jotun, including all the armies of Kalsea, having reached Skallahn. They have recaptured all the territory claimed by the Empire last season, and they are ready to march north into Tromsa – or perhaps launch their own raid into Sermersuaq. Either way they might in theory cut off the Imperial retreate – the armies are a long way from the borders of Wintermark. If the Jotun force can take Rikskog, Imperial armies would need to fight their way back through them to reach Imperial territory.

For now, though, the world catches it's breath, but any moment now the chaos of the fray will erupt once again, here in the north, beneath the cold charcoal sky.

The Empire does not have a map of Tromsa, nor have the soldiers the luxury of trying to create one while invading the territory.

Game Information

The Empire does not have a map of Tromsa. Soldiers on the ground are able to cobble together a very rough approximation of where some of the things they have seen are in relation to one another, but nothingmore. They are reasonably confident there are seven regions in total, of which they have seen four. The Empire has captured three of the (presumably) seven regions of Tromsa: Icewood (which has the forested quality and is the only region in the territory that borders Sermersuaq), Skyfall Waste (which apparently has the skyhaunted quality reflecting the proximity of the Northern Lights), and Rikskog. They are one tenth of the way toward capturing Tromsdalen (which has the hills quality). The latter two regions border Skallahn to the south, as does Icewood.

During the invasion of Tromsa, it is clear that the Jotun are engaging with the people of Wintermark differently to the soldiers of other nations. As with the Winterfolk themselves, they seek opportunities to fight rather than kill their enemies; extending quarter and acting honourably or heroically. As such, all casualties taken by the Wintermark armies are reduced by a tenth. This effect continues as long as the Winterfolk continue to fight honourably.

In the process of capturing Rikskog, the Empire destroyed Viheltavathorn – a rank one fortification – and inflicted significant damage on Oksenesfestsal- a rank three fortification with the unbreakable quality which means that like the Adamant Gate it cannot fall below 1,000 strength. It can be captured, but not destroyed by mortal means.

In Skyfall Waste, the Empire has captured an ilium source. Lake Karnakadatha could be allocated by the Imperial Senate. It's not clear how much ilium the lake provides each season, and actually claiming any of that production would rely on the Empire continuing to hold the region.

The Empire appears to have captured a fane dedicated to Wise Rangara in northern Icewood. A small contingent of Imperial troops are watching over the fane but there is no sign that anything threatening is going on there – certainly no sign that Wise Rangara is minded to send out heralds to support the Jotun.

Fyrds

Each region in a Jotun territory generates a fyrd when it is conquered by the Empire. As the Jarl and their warriors are forced to retreat from their lands, they form up into a fyrd, a warband with a military strength of five hundred. A fyrd is unable to act independently of fortifications or armies in the territory; it will only act to support a Jotun army in the territory or a fortification if there are no armies present..

A region's fyrd may be dismantled by killing the jarl or through other opportunities.

Participation : Military Units

Any character whose military unit was assigned to fight alongside the Green Shield, or the Summer Storm this downtime may choose to have been impacted by the experience of battling in close proximity to large numbers of heralds of Eleonaris, and inspired by the emissaries of Janon.

Any character whose military unit supported one of these two armies may choose to gain a single temporary hero point even if they do not have the hero skill. Once spent, this additional point is permanently gone and will have faded entirely by the end of the Autumn Equinox regardless. If you choose to claim this benefit, however, you also experience a powerful roleplaying effect: you feel driven to get take action, especially in pursuit or defence of the things you care for most. Whether a person or an ideal, it is easy for you to act without thinking when you feel that thing is in danger, or hen an opportunity to support it presents itself.

The roleplaying effect is particularly strong for anyone who already has the changeling or naga lineage.

Battle Opportunity

Shortly before the Equinox, horns are sounded and a parley called by the defenders of Oksenesfestal, who wish to meet with the commanders of the armies of Wintermark, and representatives of the Marchers.

A small group of Jotun and yegarra meet representatives of the Empire atop a battle-scarred hill within bow-shot of both armies. Igya Olgafsdottir herself – now Jarl of Tromsa - leads the Jotun contingent. Flanked by heavily armoured Skjaldir, she is accompanied by a single yegarra in the blue livery of the Fishers. She addresses most of her comments to the Winterfolk, but acknowledges the Marcher commanders. What is discusses there is not currently public knowledge, but the prognosticators have divined a major conjunction of the Sentinel Gate leading to Tromsdalen during the Autumn Equinox that is surely connected to the matter of the parley.

Further information will no doubt be available before the Equinox.