I don't believe the Hillmen would have willing allowed Lithmorran sergeants to command them. Based on their familial units, clans, and the high place that family holds in their culture they would more likely follow either a particularly distinguished member of their clan, or maybe one from another. Now, drawing on some historical parallels, such as the "barbarians" employed by the Romans, it could be posited that these distinguished Hillmen are "professional" soldiers that stay with the Lithmorran army learning the trade of warfare.
It could be suggested that during the off season these men would then return to their clan to recruit more warriors prior to the campaigning season. Thus, you not only have a core of elite fighters but also the masses of soldiers required to "soften" the enemy before the main Lithmorran troops engage.
Granted, none of this has really been elucidated upon. But there's always more to come.
I would also like to note that the Hillmen should not really fit into the "barbarian" stereotype as such. Of course, the Lithmorran people will view them as such but they have a rich culture that is certainly worth exploring in more detail.
Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm a historian friend of Wolfie. We've been discussing various aspects of TI for quite some time now, although, I do not play. And I've been trying to help him flesh out ideas, as well as add a "historical" perspective when needed. I have to say, the relative lack of information on the Hillmen is intriguing as it leaves much room for interpretation and creation.
Unpacking the War: Notes on the Consolidation
7: continued with comments on Hillfolk, tactical assessment of the “Battle” of Amhurst, and the Lord Paramount’s blockade
In terms of the established narrative, Dav needed these Hillfolk to bolster his ranks. Conveniently, they fought for nothing of value to the Lithmorrans. In line with Zeta’s thinking, I believe that I have missed some fundamental cultural ideas that would have effected how the hillfolk involvement would have played out. The helpfiles are written from a Lithmorran bias when indicating that the hillfolk are barbarians. This certainly influenced my early approach to the Hillmen as a culture.
The Hillfolk, though perceived as barbarians and monstrous creatues like the Hillbeast, have considerably room for characterization. The important question to ask becomes “How do the Hillfolk perceive themselves?” I do not imagine the pejorative ‘barbarian’ comes up in their day to day lives while speaking their own language. As Zeta would probably point out, the historical background for this word comes from the Latin for hairy or unshaven, the same root as barber. The Hillfolk are not dwarves. Nor are they wildmen from Lord of the Rings. There is a rich culture here which needs to be explored so that their role in the battles can be refined. When that is done, then their history can help define who modern Hillfolk are.
Let’s start with the name. Hillmen. Would they call themselves that? I imagine, like many native peoples, they would have a singular word which describes their entire race. The Saxons did not call themselves Saxons. Nor did the Souix call themselves Native Americans. While the label is useful for defining the regional peoples from the stand point of a superior, the hillfolk likely refer to themselves as ‘The People’ or some derivative thereof in their language.
What is their culture modelled after? Zeta imagines a wonderful combination of Viking altered by their landlocked lifestyle and feudal Japanese Shinto because of their spiritual involvement in the world around them. Their world is built around ritual. Combat is usually seasonal because of the need to establish dominance over resources. Ancestors are likely counted among the spiritual pantheon, needing to be appeased and honored as much as the spirits of cold, growth, fertility and warfare. Their crafts, too, carry a spiritual domain. The construction of a steel sword would involve the ritual burning of objects of power such as a bone from their hallowed ancestor, adding carbon and creating a weapon with properties so superior that they would have been considered magical.
Can you imagine the power invested in such a ritual object? It is little wonder that early Vikings were thought to have worshipped their swords. There was a time when I was preparing a Hillman smith (a popular character combination) and wanted to develop a ritual story for working with steel. Blacksmiths, in many ways, were the alchemists and witchdoctors of their period. They could – with sweat, muscle, fire and the right sacrifices – transform some rocks into a strong, flexible piece of living metal that could cut a man in half. These were dragon’s teeth that had been secreted away into the dark places of the world to contain their power and only a blacksmith of knowledge could coax them into their ‘true form’. In some versions of this story, the flames are characterized into the creature Salamander, the fire lizard. The wild creature would, even in its tamest form, burn a man’s very flesh and sear his lungs. A master of fire would be able to tame this beast by properly feeding it wood, coal and air. It would become more dangerous as time went on, becoming hotter and hotter until it could make metal malleable and imbue it with its magical properties. The process of crucible steel, the purest process for steel making available until probably until Bessemer came along during the Industrial Revolution, involved creating a ‘cocoon’ around a crucible filled with steel, filling it with coal and pumping air through it for hours on end. This process would have had great ritual significance. The cocoon of bricks, slathered with mud, would have been a symbolic womb and the community involvement just to supply the sheer muscle power would have made this ‘birth’ the product of the entire clan. By focusing the will of a mystical creature and the entire clan into a single blade, a warrior would be able to tear through wooden shields or pierce through mail with ease. The legendary berserkers were rightly confident in their abilities on the field.
With all of this perceived investment in their weapons and armor, it is likely that the Hillfolk knew quite a bit about war. As mentioned before, their warfare was seasonal over arable land. Are all hillfolk warriors? No, not in the professional sense. While all of them have a capacity for war, they still have infrastructure to preserve. The skirmishes would have not been for the exceptionally old or young, or the artisans or farmers. Each of the families, and therefore the clan, would have had a core group of elite warriors that did nothing but that. Come winter or summer, they were distinguished as being warriors for all seasons.
It is this core group of professionals that Zeta believes would have been the command structure for the Hillfolk during the war. While the Lithmorrans would have desired sergeants to keep them in check, the honor system of the Hillfolk would make it difficult for a foreign petty officer to direct them. While it was Dav’s intent – with his own bias in place – to use the Hillfolk as shocktroops to soften up his enemies, I would make the case that they were more organized and effective than previously believed. While not regimented regulars like the Litmorrans, there was ample time for them to train up and adopt the martial formations of the Lithmorrans. It is also possible that the Hillfolk elite – once they distinguished themselves in Tubor – would have been accepted into the Lithmorran knighthood along the lines of the historical Varangian Guard.
So let’s play with this idea of the Hillfolk marching away from the regular army on Dav’s western flank. Why are they there, if not because there are barbarians looting their way to Vandago? What is on the western flank that would have warranted professional soldiers, even if they were not Lithmorran? My answer would be the docks at Sartez. The social elite of Tubor – a nest of hedonism and corruption – would have been Dav’s true long term goal. The mineral and material resources were secondary necessities that would help to power his war machine, but the Island Jewel could have been his true target from the beginning. If this was the case, it could have been possible that Dav was watching the oversea routes that could harass his main force and actually –entrusted- this weak spot to the professional soldiery of his new allies. By having the hillfolk – hardened mountainmen and rangers – pass through the forbidding terrain along the northern coast and the edge of the future Forest of Jaren, he ensured that a mobile force could meet any Tubori threat trying to hit him on the side. This would have allowed the more heavily armored Lithmorran units to pass straight northeast.
In the interim, Jaren travels to Tubor to meet with the ruling elite and the Lord Paramount in the winter of 111. It is a bitter winter in his homeland, but as soon as his ship powers through the storm wall of the Squall, he would have had to lose a few layers of clothing for the sake of the glorious, unnatural summer of the Islands. Stepping off the docks, he could have been carried in a palanquin into the city and whatever airy summer palace had been newly constructed since the Squall was manifested. The Lord Paramount, being fed fruit and rum, perhaps being fanned, would have welcomed his vassal as if nothing had happened, as if no missives for troops had been received. Jaren would have been furious. Accusations would fly. Was he being used as a shield for Tubor? Did they think they were impervious behind the Squall with their navies? How many Skilled were hidden in the islands? It was perhaps assumed that Dav would attack Vandago first and become embroiled in the horrible winters, dying away like the Germans (or Napolean or the Turks) in Russia’s winter. Furious with the implications, Jaren would grab the Paramount by the toga and love beads and tell him that if he could not have troops, then he would come back with his own army.
With the hillfolk guarding the northern section of forest and the road to Sartez, Dav’s main force would have emerged from the forest into the hills of Amhurst. It is here, I will say, that Dav met Jaren. Both armies would have stopped with a half mile of each other. The internal forces of the Vandagan nationals would have had the benefit of her mineral resources – heavy arms and armor, perhaps a tension bolt thrower like a Roman scorpion. Though a small force, they were well-armed, if undertrained and hastily gathered. The Lithmorrans had lesser arms, but had drilled for nearly two years. To the west, the tree line of Jaren’s forest was filled with Hillfolk ready to sweep into the Vandagan flank if a threat was no longer sensed from the shores of Sartez.
Jaren’s forces, in their home territory, would have had a local encampment on the border. Jaren, however, left the bulk of his force behind and rode off with a small clutch of commanders or honor guard. The composition of his companions is unknown for this meeting, but Dav’s likely included Earl Marshall Authryn ab Sidharr and the ever-knowledgeable Gweran op Melthun. I think Dav, as a clever commander, would have included at least one heavily armed Hillman chieftain in his guard as a hint of what was hidden in Jaren’s flank. I am uncertain if Aelwyn would have appeared with the vanguard of this first potential engagement, given his task to oversee the purges following in the army’s wake. However, Aelwyn was no slouch in the combat department as Dav’s former guard captain. Perhaps he rode up from the rearguard to keep Dav safe and to see the face of the man leading the people he would inevitably have to put to The Question.
I imagine that Jaren, being the first on the field, would have run up a white flag instead of the Tubori protectorate (Vandago) colors. Intrigued, Dav would have rode out with his honor guard and met the man himself. The words are unknown, of course, but it is likely that Jaren explained up front that his people – the people of the Vandagan territory – were tired of their sun-drenched masters and would gladly accept the Truth that Dav brought.
“The Lord Paramount,” Jaren would say, “is corrupt beyond words, hiding in a magically constructed paradise while the iron men of the unforgiving mainland cut a living out of stones and steel. My people desire the power to throw off this yoke and conduct commerce on our own terms. We will accept your Question and your banners, but you must give me the army that the Lord Paramount would not. I will march across the sea for you if you put his throat within reach of my boot.”
Dav would empower him as a Duke, granting him domain for Vandago city and its surrounding territory. It is likely that a signal from Jaren would have caused his loyal men to round up whatever Tubori overseers were within his ranks. The common soldiers were conscripted or put to the sword. The commanders were put on a ship and sent back through the Squall to Tubor with the message, “I am coming.” The forces would take several weeks to integrate, probably relying heavily on thon the command structure already in place. Mixed units would be unlikely at first, unless they were irregular infantry where discipline and formations were not vital to their tactical significance. An encampment would have likely been built up outside of the city walls here as ships were prepared to first break the blockade at the Squall put in place by the Lord Paramount and then to ferry troops into a proposed beachhead at Strongjaw.
Given the volatile nature of the bay, it is likely that the ships were deep keel boats for the sake of stability. Smaller clippers would have operated around the harbors, but for actual transport across the Dralth, it is unlikely that a large amount of sails would go over well. Troop ships would be large and ungainly barges perhaps hauled into place by other ships more than sailed. The Lord Paramount would have used the Squall as a natural barrier and poached the slower ships with faster boats on the much more pleasant Tubori side. Perhaps losing several hastily assembled ships to the weather and the Paramount’s blockade, the armies of the Consolidation would retreat back into Vandago city to brave the winter.
Dav, Jaren, Aurthyn and Gweran would have likely spent the winter here. I remember a military barracks in Vandago, as well as the Cathedral that Jaren orders in 113 to be built to commemorate his trip to the springs. With the Tubori overlords ejected from their holdings, it is likely that these Big Five passed the winter season in relative comfort. Jaren was brought into the fold and was told that he needs to make a pilgrimage to the Springs. During this ‘down time’, it is possible that Aurthyn, Aelwyn or even Gweran would try to gauge Jaren’s new loyalty for themselves. Thinking about Aurthyn and Jaren sparring in a snow-crusted courtyard seems pretty badass. Jaren is closer to Dav in social status and their friendship is probably quick. Their similar upbringing and responsibility allows Dav freedom to speak that rivals that of Aelwyn and Aurthyn. This does not sit well with Aurthyn in the year to come.
In terms of the established narrative, Dav needed these Hillfolk to bolster his ranks. Conveniently, they fought for nothing of value to the Lithmorrans. In line with Zeta’s thinking, I believe that I have missed some fundamental cultural ideas that would have effected how the hillfolk involvement would have played out. The helpfiles are written from a Lithmorran bias when indicating that the hillfolk are barbarians. This certainly influenced my early approach to the Hillmen as a culture.
The Hillfolk, though perceived as barbarians and monstrous creatues like the Hillbeast, have considerably room for characterization. The important question to ask becomes “How do the Hillfolk perceive themselves?” I do not imagine the pejorative ‘barbarian’ comes up in their day to day lives while speaking their own language. As Zeta would probably point out, the historical background for this word comes from the Latin for hairy or unshaven, the same root as barber. The Hillfolk are not dwarves. Nor are they wildmen from Lord of the Rings. There is a rich culture here which needs to be explored so that their role in the battles can be refined. When that is done, then their history can help define who modern Hillfolk are.
Let’s start with the name. Hillmen. Would they call themselves that? I imagine, like many native peoples, they would have a singular word which describes their entire race. The Saxons did not call themselves Saxons. Nor did the Souix call themselves Native Americans. While the label is useful for defining the regional peoples from the stand point of a superior, the hillfolk likely refer to themselves as ‘The People’ or some derivative thereof in their language.
What is their culture modelled after? Zeta imagines a wonderful combination of Viking altered by their landlocked lifestyle and feudal Japanese Shinto because of their spiritual involvement in the world around them. Their world is built around ritual. Combat is usually seasonal because of the need to establish dominance over resources. Ancestors are likely counted among the spiritual pantheon, needing to be appeased and honored as much as the spirits of cold, growth, fertility and warfare. Their crafts, too, carry a spiritual domain. The construction of a steel sword would involve the ritual burning of objects of power such as a bone from their hallowed ancestor, adding carbon and creating a weapon with properties so superior that they would have been considered magical.
Can you imagine the power invested in such a ritual object? It is little wonder that early Vikings were thought to have worshipped their swords. There was a time when I was preparing a Hillman smith (a popular character combination) and wanted to develop a ritual story for working with steel. Blacksmiths, in many ways, were the alchemists and witchdoctors of their period. They could – with sweat, muscle, fire and the right sacrifices – transform some rocks into a strong, flexible piece of living metal that could cut a man in half. These were dragon’s teeth that had been secreted away into the dark places of the world to contain their power and only a blacksmith of knowledge could coax them into their ‘true form’. In some versions of this story, the flames are characterized into the creature Salamander, the fire lizard. The wild creature would, even in its tamest form, burn a man’s very flesh and sear his lungs. A master of fire would be able to tame this beast by properly feeding it wood, coal and air. It would become more dangerous as time went on, becoming hotter and hotter until it could make metal malleable and imbue it with its magical properties. The process of crucible steel, the purest process for steel making available until probably until Bessemer came along during the Industrial Revolution, involved creating a ‘cocoon’ around a crucible filled with steel, filling it with coal and pumping air through it for hours on end. This process would have had great ritual significance. The cocoon of bricks, slathered with mud, would have been a symbolic womb and the community involvement just to supply the sheer muscle power would have made this ‘birth’ the product of the entire clan. By focusing the will of a mystical creature and the entire clan into a single blade, a warrior would be able to tear through wooden shields or pierce through mail with ease. The legendary berserkers were rightly confident in their abilities on the field.
With all of this perceived investment in their weapons and armor, it is likely that the Hillfolk knew quite a bit about war. As mentioned before, their warfare was seasonal over arable land. Are all hillfolk warriors? No, not in the professional sense. While all of them have a capacity for war, they still have infrastructure to preserve. The skirmishes would have not been for the exceptionally old or young, or the artisans or farmers. Each of the families, and therefore the clan, would have had a core group of elite warriors that did nothing but that. Come winter or summer, they were distinguished as being warriors for all seasons.
It is this core group of professionals that Zeta believes would have been the command structure for the Hillfolk during the war. While the Lithmorrans would have desired sergeants to keep them in check, the honor system of the Hillfolk would make it difficult for a foreign petty officer to direct them. While it was Dav’s intent – with his own bias in place – to use the Hillfolk as shocktroops to soften up his enemies, I would make the case that they were more organized and effective than previously believed. While not regimented regulars like the Litmorrans, there was ample time for them to train up and adopt the martial formations of the Lithmorrans. It is also possible that the Hillfolk elite – once they distinguished themselves in Tubor – would have been accepted into the Lithmorran knighthood along the lines of the historical Varangian Guard.
So let’s play with this idea of the Hillfolk marching away from the regular army on Dav’s western flank. Why are they there, if not because there are barbarians looting their way to Vandago? What is on the western flank that would have warranted professional soldiers, even if they were not Lithmorran? My answer would be the docks at Sartez. The social elite of Tubor – a nest of hedonism and corruption – would have been Dav’s true long term goal. The mineral and material resources were secondary necessities that would help to power his war machine, but the Island Jewel could have been his true target from the beginning. If this was the case, it could have been possible that Dav was watching the oversea routes that could harass his main force and actually –entrusted- this weak spot to the professional soldiery of his new allies. By having the hillfolk – hardened mountainmen and rangers – pass through the forbidding terrain along the northern coast and the edge of the future Forest of Jaren, he ensured that a mobile force could meet any Tubori threat trying to hit him on the side. This would have allowed the more heavily armored Lithmorran units to pass straight northeast.
In the interim, Jaren travels to Tubor to meet with the ruling elite and the Lord Paramount in the winter of 111. It is a bitter winter in his homeland, but as soon as his ship powers through the storm wall of the Squall, he would have had to lose a few layers of clothing for the sake of the glorious, unnatural summer of the Islands. Stepping off the docks, he could have been carried in a palanquin into the city and whatever airy summer palace had been newly constructed since the Squall was manifested. The Lord Paramount, being fed fruit and rum, perhaps being fanned, would have welcomed his vassal as if nothing had happened, as if no missives for troops had been received. Jaren would have been furious. Accusations would fly. Was he being used as a shield for Tubor? Did they think they were impervious behind the Squall with their navies? How many Skilled were hidden in the islands? It was perhaps assumed that Dav would attack Vandago first and become embroiled in the horrible winters, dying away like the Germans (or Napolean or the Turks) in Russia’s winter. Furious with the implications, Jaren would grab the Paramount by the toga and love beads and tell him that if he could not have troops, then he would come back with his own army.
With the hillfolk guarding the northern section of forest and the road to Sartez, Dav’s main force would have emerged from the forest into the hills of Amhurst. It is here, I will say, that Dav met Jaren. Both armies would have stopped with a half mile of each other. The internal forces of the Vandagan nationals would have had the benefit of her mineral resources – heavy arms and armor, perhaps a tension bolt thrower like a Roman scorpion. Though a small force, they were well-armed, if undertrained and hastily gathered. The Lithmorrans had lesser arms, but had drilled for nearly two years. To the west, the tree line of Jaren’s forest was filled with Hillfolk ready to sweep into the Vandagan flank if a threat was no longer sensed from the shores of Sartez.
Jaren’s forces, in their home territory, would have had a local encampment on the border. Jaren, however, left the bulk of his force behind and rode off with a small clutch of commanders or honor guard. The composition of his companions is unknown for this meeting, but Dav’s likely included Earl Marshall Authryn ab Sidharr and the ever-knowledgeable Gweran op Melthun. I think Dav, as a clever commander, would have included at least one heavily armed Hillman chieftain in his guard as a hint of what was hidden in Jaren’s flank. I am uncertain if Aelwyn would have appeared with the vanguard of this first potential engagement, given his task to oversee the purges following in the army’s wake. However, Aelwyn was no slouch in the combat department as Dav’s former guard captain. Perhaps he rode up from the rearguard to keep Dav safe and to see the face of the man leading the people he would inevitably have to put to The Question.
I imagine that Jaren, being the first on the field, would have run up a white flag instead of the Tubori protectorate (Vandago) colors. Intrigued, Dav would have rode out with his honor guard and met the man himself. The words are unknown, of course, but it is likely that Jaren explained up front that his people – the people of the Vandagan territory – were tired of their sun-drenched masters and would gladly accept the Truth that Dav brought.
“The Lord Paramount,” Jaren would say, “is corrupt beyond words, hiding in a magically constructed paradise while the iron men of the unforgiving mainland cut a living out of stones and steel. My people desire the power to throw off this yoke and conduct commerce on our own terms. We will accept your Question and your banners, but you must give me the army that the Lord Paramount would not. I will march across the sea for you if you put his throat within reach of my boot.”
Dav would empower him as a Duke, granting him domain for Vandago city and its surrounding territory. It is likely that a signal from Jaren would have caused his loyal men to round up whatever Tubori overseers were within his ranks. The common soldiers were conscripted or put to the sword. The commanders were put on a ship and sent back through the Squall to Tubor with the message, “I am coming.” The forces would take several weeks to integrate, probably relying heavily on thon the command structure already in place. Mixed units would be unlikely at first, unless they were irregular infantry where discipline and formations were not vital to their tactical significance. An encampment would have likely been built up outside of the city walls here as ships were prepared to first break the blockade at the Squall put in place by the Lord Paramount and then to ferry troops into a proposed beachhead at Strongjaw.
Given the volatile nature of the bay, it is likely that the ships were deep keel boats for the sake of stability. Smaller clippers would have operated around the harbors, but for actual transport across the Dralth, it is unlikely that a large amount of sails would go over well. Troop ships would be large and ungainly barges perhaps hauled into place by other ships more than sailed. The Lord Paramount would have used the Squall as a natural barrier and poached the slower ships with faster boats on the much more pleasant Tubori side. Perhaps losing several hastily assembled ships to the weather and the Paramount’s blockade, the armies of the Consolidation would retreat back into Vandago city to brave the winter.
Dav, Jaren, Aurthyn and Gweran would have likely spent the winter here. I remember a military barracks in Vandago, as well as the Cathedral that Jaren orders in 113 to be built to commemorate his trip to the springs. With the Tubori overlords ejected from their holdings, it is likely that these Big Five passed the winter season in relative comfort. Jaren was brought into the fold and was told that he needs to make a pilgrimage to the Springs. During this ‘down time’, it is possible that Aurthyn, Aelwyn or even Gweran would try to gauge Jaren’s new loyalty for themselves. Thinking about Aurthyn and Jaren sparring in a snow-crusted courtyard seems pretty badass. Jaren is closer to Dav in social status and their friendship is probably quick. Their similar upbringing and responsibility allows Dav freedom to speak that rivals that of Aelwyn and Aurthyn. This does not sit well with Aurthyn in the year to come.
Welcome Zeta. :)
I've always thought the Hillfolk would regard themselves in much the way many Scotts do (or did) - warrior poets, perhaps poor in coin, but rich in heart and spirit (and goats). Personally I prefer to view Hillish culture as not more or less advanced as Lithmorran, but different. From an economic standpoint the Hills may be underdeveloped, but from the standpoint of things like social mobility, gender equality, and a lot of personal freedoms we value today, the Hills are actually more "advanced" than Lithmore.
Where I struggle is when Dav turned on the Hillfolk and killed or enslaved many of them. I have a hard time reconciling that with my own desire to not have Hillfolk viewed as hapless victims, and with the idea that they were even halfway competent. Are the stories of the Lithmorran defeating the Hillfolk exaggerated? If so, by how much? If not, shouldn't the Hillfolk be waging guerrilla war against Lithmore even now?
I've always thought the Hillfolk would regard themselves in much the way many Scotts do (or did) - warrior poets, perhaps poor in coin, but rich in heart and spirit (and goats). Personally I prefer to view Hillish culture as not more or less advanced as Lithmorran, but different. From an economic standpoint the Hills may be underdeveloped, but from the standpoint of things like social mobility, gender equality, and a lot of personal freedoms we value today, the Hills are actually more "advanced" than Lithmore.
Where I struggle is when Dav turned on the Hillfolk and killed or enslaved many of them. I have a hard time reconciling that with my own desire to not have Hillfolk viewed as hapless victims, and with the idea that they were even halfway competent. Are the stories of the Lithmorran defeating the Hillfolk exaggerated? If so, by how much? If not, shouldn't the Hillfolk be waging guerrilla war against Lithmore even now?
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Zeta Ockham
Thank you.Geras wrote:Welcome Zeta. :)
I've always thought the Hillfolk would regard themselves in much the way many Scotts do (or did) - warrior poets, perhaps poor in coin, but rich in heart and spirit (and goats). Personally I prefer to view Hillish culture as not more or less advanced as Lithmorran, but different. From an economic standpoint the Hills may be underdeveloped, but from the standpoint of things like social mobility, gender equality, and a lot of personal freedoms we value today, the Hills are actually more "advanced" than Lithmore.
Also, I agree. Rather than the Viking analogy, I envision them more akin to the Scottish. Although, the Celtic traditions of the Scottish were heavily influenced by the Norse invaders. They would certainly be a creative group as nearly everything they own is decorated in some fashion. It is likely that they would also have a strong oral tradition leading to many tales and legends being told around hearths during the harsh winters. Where Wolfie references Japanese Shinto is that the Hillfolk would be more "in tune" with nature and the elements. Leading to a belief in many different spirits.
I think that as Wolfie elaborates upon the events of the Consolidation the reasons as to why Dav turned on them could be sussed out. Truth be told, I'm not sure why he would, perhaps it is an exaggeration designed to perpetuate the idea that the Hillfolk are "barbarians" compared to the more civilized Lithmore.
We could continue to discuss the Hillfolk, but that would be derailing Wolfie's excellent thread on the Consolidation.
Great work, Wolfie! There are a few things I'm thinking about:
1) I'd like to see more of an explanation about the role of magic pre-Consolidation and how it changed. I like the idea that the seventh circle was anchored in the Seven themselves, and magic's structure weakened and become unreliable as they were killed off.
2) The Hillmen: I think a lot of the helpfiles talking about their role in the Consolidation and Dav's betrayal of them are unnecessary simplifications. To some extent I think they may even be there just to make Dav look more like a cruel, mad King, and we've got plenty of that. I'd actually like us to entertain 100% removing the betrayal. It's unnecessary and it kind of actively hurts perceptions of Hillmen, as Geras said.
(I believe we talked about the Hillmen calling themselves the Umsa; I liked that a lot.)
1) I'd like to see more of an explanation about the role of magic pre-Consolidation and how it changed. I like the idea that the seventh circle was anchored in the Seven themselves, and magic's structure weakened and become unreliable as they were killed off.
2) The Hillmen: I think a lot of the helpfiles talking about their role in the Consolidation and Dav's betrayal of them are unnecessary simplifications. To some extent I think they may even be there just to make Dav look more like a cruel, mad King, and we've got plenty of that. I'd actually like us to entertain 100% removing the betrayal. It's unnecessary and it kind of actively hurts perceptions of Hillmen, as Geras said.
(I believe we talked about the Hillmen calling themselves the Umsa; I liked that a lot.)
8: 113SC – Ash on the snow
Industry in Lithmore and Vandago goes into wartime overdrive. With new trade opportunities available, it is likely that Dav would have ordered that the road between Vandago and Lithmore to be reinforced and widened to accommodate trade, the movement of materials and troops. Trading posts would have bolstered the growth of farming communities and their villages. It is possible that Wilhelm, Sartez, Talfore and Lothos saw some increase in activity.
Though I previously figured that the frustration of this early assault would have started to cause Hillmen to desert and return to the mountains, I realized that many of them may have been extremely pleased to be in a region like Vandago, if only for the availability of iron. Obsessed with detail and crafstmenship, perhaps out of the rarity of materials in their homeland, the Hillmen artisans would have added their skill at forging to the Vandagan means of mass ore production. This integration would have allowed high quality weapons to be produced on site without having to ship the
ore or ingots off to Lithmore.
The ability to generate massive amounts of ore may be worth exploring. The prerequisites for ore production at this time period would include: manpower, tools, good roads, the ability to pump water out of mines during wet seasons and necessary forges to process the ore.
Manpower seems a given with the idea of peasants. Mining is not a job you give to people you like. The work would be grueling and in hostile conditions. Supervisors would likely be necessary to give direction and an expert eye on the rocks. The mines would probably be of a shaft and lane style, supported by local timbers and wattling to keep the loose dirt and rock at bay. I am sure the Vandagans could go all Moria on their mountains, given enough time, but a hundred years is not terribly long to throw peasants with chisels at a mountain. The roads out of the mine would need to be heavy enough to accommodate mule and cart traffic back to the city. The movements of heavy earth and even the removal of water via pumps could be facilitated though man-powered hamster wheels and pulley systems.
The actual mass processing of the ore would have to be suitably advanced for the period, though instead of a single massive factory it could simply be a cottage industry where an entire quarter of the city is home to regular sized forges. While crucible forging in our own history was a well-kept secret of the East until around the industrial revolution, lesser steels did exist. While I’m not a metallurgist, it may be worth it to explain what separates iron from steel, and medieval European steel from Japanese steel from Arabic/Andalusian/Damask/Spanish steel.
The qualities of metal usually stem from its composition and the uniformity of its atomic structure. When you see a blacksmith wailing on a piece of red-hot metal and there are sparks flying off his hammer, that is actually impurities leaving the metal in the form of slag. These impurities deform the crystalline, grid-like structure of the atoms, creating points of weakness that could result in the blade chipping or snapping off during combat. Hard is great for keeping a cutting edge, but it also makes the blade exceedingly brittle. The holy grail of martial smithing is a balance of flexibility, strength and weight. And that is where our friend carbon comes into play. Carbon is an extremely common element and may have been introduced into the manufacture of metals purely by accident. Getting iron to the appropriate temperature would have required not only wood, but charcoal and an oxygen source. Somewhere in the mix, you could have gotten carbon into the iron. As mentioned before, ancient forging rituals often involved sacrificing bones to the fires, which would have certainly added carbon content. Functionally, the large carbon atoms fill in the spaces of the iron matrix while the iron is hot. When the iron cools and this matrix crystallizes and contracts, the carbon is locked into place, creating a magical hybrid that is both flexible and strong.
One of the keys to good steel is the uniformity of the matrix and an absence of impurities. Iron, in its natural state, is a filthy rock that just as likely contains a dozen other minerals along with the desired metal content. Purifying metal takes a lot of work, some of which is accomplished through the shaping, but a large part of it comes from the presence of heat and oxygen to vaporize impurities and allow them to bubble out of the iron as gas or slag. A smith, using an open coal forge with bellows to feed air upwards through the fire, will not be able to reach the same temperatures as a crucible forge in which the metal is sealed within a brick cocoon filled with fuel and fed oxygen via bellows for a few days.
Crucible steel was not used in Europe until nearly the modern era. Medieval weaponry would have been comparatively impure, however, there was better steel in the world. The highly educated Arabs and Indians had crucible steel, but prior to that, there was Damascus. Damask, of course, is the best steel available in The Inquisition. It is a high-carbon steel that is characterized by large iron and carbon crystals visible in the surface of the blade as swirls or streaks, the result of a slower cooling process than usual.
Though the game world does not have to worry about it, the case of Japanese steel is an interesting one and a vital example for how labor can overcome inferiority of the base material. Japanese steel is made from bad iron, as a point of fact. Each year, a small amount of steel is made from the native materials in a highly ritualized process which has been characterized to me as a birth of a some god or monster. The seething ore is packed into a egg or cocoon shape that ‘cooks’ for several days before being cracked open to reveal the metal. From this point, the various shards of metal are gauged for their carbon absorption – namely their relative hardness and flexibility. The Japanese style of blade comes together like a puzzle. The hand-sized shards of softer metal are folded around a rigid core, and then the cutting edge is hard-faced with more durable steel. All of this is welded together and made uniform through days and days of hammering. Once ready, the blade is coated along the cutting edge with a clay that slows the cooling process. When the blade is quenched, the temperature differential in the spine and edge of the blade give it its characteristic curve. Through meticulous polishing, the blade is able to cut through the air with less resistance than a normal blade, adding to its cutting power.
What does all this say about the Vandagan infrastructure and weaponry available to the Consolidation army? The Vandagans were dealing with a reasonable quality of iron as it is likely mountain-based veins and not something inferior like Japanese iron sand. The production of iron and steel ingots for forging would not have been highly ritualized due to this quality, I believe. Scarcity or the investiture of work most likely breeds ritual process. Though Jaren would have access to arms manufacturers in his city, they would not have been of a superior quality. They would have been ornate, perhaps, given their predilection for design. The exportation of processed ore as probably the third most important industry in Vandago behind clothing (wool and dye) and architecture (design, building teams, masons and presumably cranes/tackle/etc) would have required either a centralized facility with large scale tools or numerous low scale facilities in terms of cottage or guild based industry.
While a large centralized facility seems best for quality control, the sheer engineering know-how seems impractical for a nominally medieval/renaissance society. Though I suppose if Vandagans are building cathedrals and such around the kingdom with massive cranes powered by men in hamster wheels, some industrialization is feasible. One of the keys to industrialization is the scale of power. A pair of smiths, working with one forge and an anvil can rapidly pound a piece of steel out but they will eventually tire. In a larger workshop, you could have multiple forges working at once, with separate stations for grinding and finishing pieces. Somebody to put the guard on, somebody to put the pommel on. Somebody to cut hafts for the axes, somebody to lathe the lances. To make things more efficient, you could throw in water powered machinery via streams or rivers, or even windmills to take advantage of the coastal winds and turn them into mechanical, rotational energy. Then you could use things like lathes or triphammers, to alleviate some of the manpower issues.
All in all, Vandago would have been a noisy place in 113. The snow would have been mixed with ash, Hillmen would be taking over forges to make weapons instead of just processing ore. Shipwrights on the coast would be going bananas trying to figure out how to build something that could bypass the Squall –and- deliver troops to the shoreline. The ironworks, the shipwrights and the army would have all been looking to Aurthyn for direction. Dav would have been planning, too, but I suspect that part of this year would have been spent with initiating Jaren and even taking him on a pilgrimage to the Springs. Dav, installing his first Duke, would have taken him personally.
Those HIllmen that were not forgemasters would have still probably been disgruntled over the lack of action. When Aelwyn returns during the winter of 113, it is likely that some Hillfolk were included in his area purges while establishing a new Office of Inquisition.
Industry in Lithmore and Vandago goes into wartime overdrive. With new trade opportunities available, it is likely that Dav would have ordered that the road between Vandago and Lithmore to be reinforced and widened to accommodate trade, the movement of materials and troops. Trading posts would have bolstered the growth of farming communities and their villages. It is possible that Wilhelm, Sartez, Talfore and Lothos saw some increase in activity.
Though I previously figured that the frustration of this early assault would have started to cause Hillmen to desert and return to the mountains, I realized that many of them may have been extremely pleased to be in a region like Vandago, if only for the availability of iron. Obsessed with detail and crafstmenship, perhaps out of the rarity of materials in their homeland, the Hillmen artisans would have added their skill at forging to the Vandagan means of mass ore production. This integration would have allowed high quality weapons to be produced on site without having to ship the
ore or ingots off to Lithmore.
The ability to generate massive amounts of ore may be worth exploring. The prerequisites for ore production at this time period would include: manpower, tools, good roads, the ability to pump water out of mines during wet seasons and necessary forges to process the ore.
Manpower seems a given with the idea of peasants. Mining is not a job you give to people you like. The work would be grueling and in hostile conditions. Supervisors would likely be necessary to give direction and an expert eye on the rocks. The mines would probably be of a shaft and lane style, supported by local timbers and wattling to keep the loose dirt and rock at bay. I am sure the Vandagans could go all Moria on their mountains, given enough time, but a hundred years is not terribly long to throw peasants with chisels at a mountain. The roads out of the mine would need to be heavy enough to accommodate mule and cart traffic back to the city. The movements of heavy earth and even the removal of water via pumps could be facilitated though man-powered hamster wheels and pulley systems.
The actual mass processing of the ore would have to be suitably advanced for the period, though instead of a single massive factory it could simply be a cottage industry where an entire quarter of the city is home to regular sized forges. While crucible forging in our own history was a well-kept secret of the East until around the industrial revolution, lesser steels did exist. While I’m not a metallurgist, it may be worth it to explain what separates iron from steel, and medieval European steel from Japanese steel from Arabic/Andalusian/Damask/Spanish steel.
The qualities of metal usually stem from its composition and the uniformity of its atomic structure. When you see a blacksmith wailing on a piece of red-hot metal and there are sparks flying off his hammer, that is actually impurities leaving the metal in the form of slag. These impurities deform the crystalline, grid-like structure of the atoms, creating points of weakness that could result in the blade chipping or snapping off during combat. Hard is great for keeping a cutting edge, but it also makes the blade exceedingly brittle. The holy grail of martial smithing is a balance of flexibility, strength and weight. And that is where our friend carbon comes into play. Carbon is an extremely common element and may have been introduced into the manufacture of metals purely by accident. Getting iron to the appropriate temperature would have required not only wood, but charcoal and an oxygen source. Somewhere in the mix, you could have gotten carbon into the iron. As mentioned before, ancient forging rituals often involved sacrificing bones to the fires, which would have certainly added carbon content. Functionally, the large carbon atoms fill in the spaces of the iron matrix while the iron is hot. When the iron cools and this matrix crystallizes and contracts, the carbon is locked into place, creating a magical hybrid that is both flexible and strong.
One of the keys to good steel is the uniformity of the matrix and an absence of impurities. Iron, in its natural state, is a filthy rock that just as likely contains a dozen other minerals along with the desired metal content. Purifying metal takes a lot of work, some of which is accomplished through the shaping, but a large part of it comes from the presence of heat and oxygen to vaporize impurities and allow them to bubble out of the iron as gas or slag. A smith, using an open coal forge with bellows to feed air upwards through the fire, will not be able to reach the same temperatures as a crucible forge in which the metal is sealed within a brick cocoon filled with fuel and fed oxygen via bellows for a few days.
Crucible steel was not used in Europe until nearly the modern era. Medieval weaponry would have been comparatively impure, however, there was better steel in the world. The highly educated Arabs and Indians had crucible steel, but prior to that, there was Damascus. Damask, of course, is the best steel available in The Inquisition. It is a high-carbon steel that is characterized by large iron and carbon crystals visible in the surface of the blade as swirls or streaks, the result of a slower cooling process than usual.
Though the game world does not have to worry about it, the case of Japanese steel is an interesting one and a vital example for how labor can overcome inferiority of the base material. Japanese steel is made from bad iron, as a point of fact. Each year, a small amount of steel is made from the native materials in a highly ritualized process which has been characterized to me as a birth of a some god or monster. The seething ore is packed into a egg or cocoon shape that ‘cooks’ for several days before being cracked open to reveal the metal. From this point, the various shards of metal are gauged for their carbon absorption – namely their relative hardness and flexibility. The Japanese style of blade comes together like a puzzle. The hand-sized shards of softer metal are folded around a rigid core, and then the cutting edge is hard-faced with more durable steel. All of this is welded together and made uniform through days and days of hammering. Once ready, the blade is coated along the cutting edge with a clay that slows the cooling process. When the blade is quenched, the temperature differential in the spine and edge of the blade give it its characteristic curve. Through meticulous polishing, the blade is able to cut through the air with less resistance than a normal blade, adding to its cutting power.
What does all this say about the Vandagan infrastructure and weaponry available to the Consolidation army? The Vandagans were dealing with a reasonable quality of iron as it is likely mountain-based veins and not something inferior like Japanese iron sand. The production of iron and steel ingots for forging would not have been highly ritualized due to this quality, I believe. Scarcity or the investiture of work most likely breeds ritual process. Though Jaren would have access to arms manufacturers in his city, they would not have been of a superior quality. They would have been ornate, perhaps, given their predilection for design. The exportation of processed ore as probably the third most important industry in Vandago behind clothing (wool and dye) and architecture (design, building teams, masons and presumably cranes/tackle/etc) would have required either a centralized facility with large scale tools or numerous low scale facilities in terms of cottage or guild based industry.
While a large centralized facility seems best for quality control, the sheer engineering know-how seems impractical for a nominally medieval/renaissance society. Though I suppose if Vandagans are building cathedrals and such around the kingdom with massive cranes powered by men in hamster wheels, some industrialization is feasible. One of the keys to industrialization is the scale of power. A pair of smiths, working with one forge and an anvil can rapidly pound a piece of steel out but they will eventually tire. In a larger workshop, you could have multiple forges working at once, with separate stations for grinding and finishing pieces. Somebody to put the guard on, somebody to put the pommel on. Somebody to cut hafts for the axes, somebody to lathe the lances. To make things more efficient, you could throw in water powered machinery via streams or rivers, or even windmills to take advantage of the coastal winds and turn them into mechanical, rotational energy. Then you could use things like lathes or triphammers, to alleviate some of the manpower issues.
All in all, Vandago would have been a noisy place in 113. The snow would have been mixed with ash, Hillmen would be taking over forges to make weapons instead of just processing ore. Shipwrights on the coast would be going bananas trying to figure out how to build something that could bypass the Squall –and- deliver troops to the shoreline. The ironworks, the shipwrights and the army would have all been looking to Aurthyn for direction. Dav would have been planning, too, but I suspect that part of this year would have been spent with initiating Jaren and even taking him on a pilgrimage to the Springs. Dav, installing his first Duke, would have taken him personally.
Those HIllmen that were not forgemasters would have still probably been disgruntled over the lack of action. When Aelwyn returns during the winter of 113, it is likely that some Hillfolk were included in his area purges while establishing a new Office of Inquisition.
Dice wrote:Great work, Wolfie! There are a few things I'm thinking about:
1) I'd like to see more of an explanation about the role of magic pre-Consolidation and how it changed. I like the idea that the seventh circle was anchored in the Seven themselves, and magic's structure weakened and become unreliable as they were killed off.
2) The Hillmen: I think a lot of the helpfiles talking about their role in the Consolidation and Dav's betrayal of them are unnecessary simplifications. To some extent I think they may even be there just to make Dav look more like a cruel, mad King, and we've got plenty of that. I'd actually like us to entertain 100% removing the betrayal. It's unnecessary and it kind of actively hurts perceptions of Hillmen, as Geras said.
(I believe we talked about the Hillmen calling themselves the Umsa; I liked that a lot.)
Unfortunately, #1 isn't and cannot be true based on some of the other things I've written and have lying about. Rather, I think the Seven named themselves and arranged themselves after the Acadamie's standard Seven Circles.
I don't have any stance on the Hillman Betrayal, but would be interested in being directed to the help files for review.
Wolfie, I love your stuff. Thank you for your continuing efforts and creativity granted to our game.
After nearly a year encamped outside of the city of Vandago, it is likely that things were looking grim. The longer an army is in one place, the more you have problems with sanitation and morale, especially among irregulars like the Hillmen. It is likely that the camp was built on the mustering ground of Vandago’s internal forces, and with native ingenuity, would have had suitable latrines and a mix of timber and canvas shacks to keep the snow and wind from killing their men. With the addition of the Lithmorrans and the Hillfolk, the encampment would have grown in size, leading to possible conflicts between officers in regard to the bunking of their men. Those outside of protective shelters would likely have frozen to death from exposure.
Some time in February, the resounding crack of ice would have pulled many soldiers and citizens out of the doldrums of winter and put a little hope into their hearts. The timbers from the roughshod barracks could have been cannibalized into materials for ships and landing boats. Eager to get the men afield, the naval campaign would resume.
The naval situation, as explored earlier, would have been precarious. The major oceanographic feature to contend with is the natural borderline generated by the Squall. Whether this is a giant circle around the island, or what, the border – as the helpfile states – would generate a great deal of storms due to the temperature differential between the regions. If I were the Lord Paramount, I would station ships just inside the tropical zone to poach any interlopers coming through the wall of storms. The Tubori strategic advantage at the outset of this engagement is immense. They have forewarning of the attack, are on land versus a foe that has to send landing boats onto the beach, knowledge of the terrain, possible mages (having retreated from Lithmore much earlier), a fleet of ships to allow for station to station transfer across the islands and – if we are treating them as aristocracy compared to the Vandgans – wealth enough to afford small contingents of elite guards.
However, on the material side, the Tubori position is very poor. While they are probably true and social nobility, making them relatively better equipped to deal with attacks one on one, there are probably not many of them due to the exclusive nature of the islands. The majority of their resources on the island would be trade goods, not arms. Their standing army is probably very small, as most of their holdings are on the mainland. You do not need an army or even many Reeves if Tubor is a vast series of plantations and fishing villages. The tactical choices for the Tubori are limited. While the capitol has fortifications, they probably do not have the numerous, heavy stone buildings that the Vandagans need to survive their winters. However, it would be interesting to note that several of this style of building would exist on Tubor as a nod to the cold weather roots of the pre-hex/Squall island. Hence, the fortifications of the capitol are likely similar to what surrounds Vandago city. Small lookout posts would be situated to overlook natural harbors or passes between the islands.
While my timeline shows that Dav went for the head of the serpent – the capitol – relatively early on in the engagement, the Tubori are notoriously slippery and I wanted history to show that. While they dispersed into the island interior to begin a guerilla style counter-offensive, the nobility of Tubor also requested aid from Vavard – probably leveraging control of the canal into the Kirulean and the benefits of trade. The canal, requiring advanced engineering and massive amounts of labor could have been constructed with the aid of the Skilled during their hay-day or was perhaps just an enlargement of a natural inlet.
The outset of the naval engagement of 114 would have had to bypass or destroy a good section of the blockade. From what I understand, the storms coming off the Squall have a natural tendency to go east-south-east to make the northern climate of Vandago that much worse. The easiest passage for a fleet from Vandago would likely be to go north from the mainland and catch the tail of the Island chain. While I posited a landing far to the east in Strongjaw, it is possible that Dav’s forces had to work their way west from the furthest islands, which would be defended less than the larger landmass that holds the capitol city. Though the capture-and-move technique would string out his forces and make the smaller islands susceptible to naval counterattack by the Tubori, the shortening of physical distance would circumvent the need for ships that could traverse the Squall –and- carry enough boats to land a suitable invasion force.
While I posited that the main beachhead would have been at Strongjaw, the invasion pattern would have come through Longpoint to capture Fort Merdigal to the south then establish a beachhead on Yestraden/The Tail and advance west along the main island to the chokepoint at The Throat and then move via ship across Lightwater Bay to Sinjiara/Redcliffs/Strongjaw to bypass the mountain ring protecting the capitol to the west, north and east.
The Tubori Campaign is grueling, taking from 114 to 121. Seven years of jungle fighting or spent on ships, constantly being harassed by a faster, more knowledgeable force that loves to use poison and disease to their advantage.
Breaching the blockade would probably require a lighter vanguard to punch through the Tubori lines. If I were Dav, I would try and use fire ships. Though they would be difficult to light after passing through a stormy sea, blazing ships would hit the larger of the Tubori blockade vessels and sink them. These blockade vessels might have had groups of archers, bolt throwers or raiding parties on standby. The small Tubori ships would be a problem. Their mobility and familiarity with the border waters of the Squall would give them a tactical advantage to flank the incursion and sever rudder ropes, throw firebombs or flaming arrows into the sails.
A scenario for island hopping begins at Longpoint/Rapostra, a remote island far to the east on the border of the Squall. This tiny toehold is protected by a fort to the south, Merdigal, which guards one of the shortest routes from the mainland. If I were to characterize it, Merdigal would have been built before the Squall came into being. Though the Vandagan mountains are known for their stone quarries, the Tubori/Vandagan ancestors would have known stone with more than passing familiarity. There would not be much else to use, if Tubor was an icy island like Greenland. Prior to the Squall, Tubor could have been a geothermal oddity of cold temperatures, hot springs and volcanic swaths of rock which was later transformed into a Hawaii or Caribbean paradise.
Merdigal could be an island fort with stones cut from the dark volcanic earth. It is likely that it also included a lighthouse powered by timber or oil from the mainland. As Merdigal would not have to defend against high-powered, cannon-based naval bombardment, it is likely that its primary usage was as a watchtower and lighthouse. The walls would not need to be especially heavy, but would need to survive winter storm conditions prior to the Squall and tropical storm conditions afterward. The watchtower itself could be a four-sided, blunt pyramid shape to withstand such conditions. Under this would be barracks and supply, walled on three or four sides, depending on the geography. With signal fires placed high up in other watchtowers like these, the capitol could hear of infiltrating ships within a day.
And therein lies a strategic problem for this eastern approach into Tubor. Jaren would likely have known about Merdigal’s existence and possible communications system that would have alerted the Island capitol. In his debrief with Dav, he would have made total disclosure. Would Dav have even cared? Was the retreat of the Tubori – a social elite surrounded by a magical barrier – have solidified his opinion of the Islanders to the point of making their purge a necessity? Surely this assault was what Dav promised Jaren, and the Consolidation needed troops. So be it. The Tubori knew Jaren was going to return, selecting the eastern approach could have been to hammer home that fact and insight panic.
I am uncertain whether Dav would opt to attack Merdigal first or establish a toehold in Longpoint. In either case, the men that go ashore would be subjected to harassment from the sea, depending on how far inland they were able to get. A man with a rotten toe from waterlogged boots would find himself breakfast for crabs before morning on these beaches. The threat of Tubori raiding parties slipping boats into shore at night would be endemic. Tropical diseases, dysentery, mosquitoes, all manner of infernal natural contrivance would be cursed as foul magic wielded by the Islanders to slow the invasion. Even the matter of sea sickness would be an issue for the largely land-locked Lithmorrans and the Hillmen. None of the skirmishes at Longpoint or Merdigal would have been easy with weak-kneed men that had just braved the choppiest waters in the known world.
With both of these islands secured, Dav would have been forced to the main island in order to secure a supply of fresh water large enough to support his army. The mainland would have offered many benefits for the Consolidation forces; with an established beachhead, men would finally be able to find their feet and the LIthmorran and Hillmen forces would not be as violently ill. However, the mainland would also mean a new avenue of attack via ground. While seemingly a bonus for the Consolidation ground troops, they would be fighting in someone else’s backyard.
Tropical jungles have proven the bane of many invading armies throughout our own history, and a medieval campaign would be no different. It is a wild place filled with fear and danger. The locals would seem to have supernatural abilities of stealth and curses as they would fade in from the surrounding foliage, strike with poisons derived from the verdant wildlife, and then fading away. I honestly would not be surprised if Dav and Jaren slashed and burned their way from The Tail to The Throat if only to deprive the Tubori of their hiding places in front of the advancing army. In keeping with Dav’s theme of cleansing, it is likely that each province was cleared and troops left behind to cover the flanks. The Tubori had no place to retreat to other than other parts of the Island. Though the clear-and-garrison approach was slow and required vast resources, it seems like the only way for Dav to be sure and still have the problems I outlined in the timeline before – guerilla warfare.
The Lord Paramount, knowing that there is no welcome harbor in Sartez or Vandago, would have retreated into the capitol city and begun to orchestrate a counter-offensive that would use every advantage the Tubori had available. Their knowledge of the land, their ability to sail ships to any point within the island chain, and the long, winding supply chain that would extend from Longpoint back to the shores of Vandago. As a writer, my gut tells me that this is where the pirate prince tradition of the Tubori came into its own and became representative of the culture. They were horrible aristocratic louts turned freedom fighters. How cool is that? The gentry and even some of the nobility could have stripped away the trappings of their wealth, adopted the dress of the working-class commoners that ran the plantations and subverted every attempt that Dav made to identify and punish the ringleaders of the guerilla defense. Unless he put every Tubori he saw to the sword, he would never be sure until someone talked.
And this, my friends, is where it gets interesting. Let’s return for a moment to our principle characters and their development during this massive invasion. Jaren, we are told in the helpfile, is the Sword of Dav. How does he get so close to Dav during this time period? As stipulated before, it is probably because of his ability to relate to Dav as a fellow ruler and a peer. Aurthyn and Aelwyn were both guards or soldiers in Dav’s employ and in spite of proving themselves and being entrusted with vast amounts of responsibilities, their relationship with the king has likely suffered since his revelation. Aurthyn would be busy leading the troops and planning the day-to-day movements of his warrior elite. Aelwyn would be behind the Consolidation lines, overseeing the necessary purges and intelligence gathering of the locals through the ever vital Question. He would, as a priest of the Order, also have been in charge of securing the vital, life-giving waters on the mainlaind of Tubor.
Here we turn back to one of my favorite characters in TI lore: Gweran. Gweran is Dav’s defacto intelligence officer in my mind, and I think that there may be something to the title of Grand Bard of Tubor given to Martis le Cabot during the Consolidation. My reason for this is that Cabot was brought to Lithmore (according to the helpfile) during the Consolidation. While this is a 30 year span of time, and it could mean anywhen at all, I want to tie in Cabot’s rescue with Gweran’s super-power as a social dynamo. What if Cabot was rescued from Tubor during the assault? What if Gweran was able to extract him from the capitol in exchange for asylum before it fell to Dav’s forces? The possibilities are wonderful.
Lastly, during this year the breakneck construction of Nimrock is completed. Also, it is highly likely that the Lord Paramount sent a request to Vavard for some flanking support against the land-based supply chain of the Consolidation forces. The spring of the next year, 115, would see them throw their lot into the war as they moved in forces to harass the Vandagans from the Kirulean.
Some time in February, the resounding crack of ice would have pulled many soldiers and citizens out of the doldrums of winter and put a little hope into their hearts. The timbers from the roughshod barracks could have been cannibalized into materials for ships and landing boats. Eager to get the men afield, the naval campaign would resume.
The naval situation, as explored earlier, would have been precarious. The major oceanographic feature to contend with is the natural borderline generated by the Squall. Whether this is a giant circle around the island, or what, the border – as the helpfile states – would generate a great deal of storms due to the temperature differential between the regions. If I were the Lord Paramount, I would station ships just inside the tropical zone to poach any interlopers coming through the wall of storms. The Tubori strategic advantage at the outset of this engagement is immense. They have forewarning of the attack, are on land versus a foe that has to send landing boats onto the beach, knowledge of the terrain, possible mages (having retreated from Lithmore much earlier), a fleet of ships to allow for station to station transfer across the islands and – if we are treating them as aristocracy compared to the Vandgans – wealth enough to afford small contingents of elite guards.
However, on the material side, the Tubori position is very poor. While they are probably true and social nobility, making them relatively better equipped to deal with attacks one on one, there are probably not many of them due to the exclusive nature of the islands. The majority of their resources on the island would be trade goods, not arms. Their standing army is probably very small, as most of their holdings are on the mainland. You do not need an army or even many Reeves if Tubor is a vast series of plantations and fishing villages. The tactical choices for the Tubori are limited. While the capitol has fortifications, they probably do not have the numerous, heavy stone buildings that the Vandagans need to survive their winters. However, it would be interesting to note that several of this style of building would exist on Tubor as a nod to the cold weather roots of the pre-hex/Squall island. Hence, the fortifications of the capitol are likely similar to what surrounds Vandago city. Small lookout posts would be situated to overlook natural harbors or passes between the islands.
While my timeline shows that Dav went for the head of the serpent – the capitol – relatively early on in the engagement, the Tubori are notoriously slippery and I wanted history to show that. While they dispersed into the island interior to begin a guerilla style counter-offensive, the nobility of Tubor also requested aid from Vavard – probably leveraging control of the canal into the Kirulean and the benefits of trade. The canal, requiring advanced engineering and massive amounts of labor could have been constructed with the aid of the Skilled during their hay-day or was perhaps just an enlargement of a natural inlet.
The outset of the naval engagement of 114 would have had to bypass or destroy a good section of the blockade. From what I understand, the storms coming off the Squall have a natural tendency to go east-south-east to make the northern climate of Vandago that much worse. The easiest passage for a fleet from Vandago would likely be to go north from the mainland and catch the tail of the Island chain. While I posited a landing far to the east in Strongjaw, it is possible that Dav’s forces had to work their way west from the furthest islands, which would be defended less than the larger landmass that holds the capitol city. Though the capture-and-move technique would string out his forces and make the smaller islands susceptible to naval counterattack by the Tubori, the shortening of physical distance would circumvent the need for ships that could traverse the Squall –and- carry enough boats to land a suitable invasion force.
While I posited that the main beachhead would have been at Strongjaw, the invasion pattern would have come through Longpoint to capture Fort Merdigal to the south then establish a beachhead on Yestraden/The Tail and advance west along the main island to the chokepoint at The Throat and then move via ship across Lightwater Bay to Sinjiara/Redcliffs/Strongjaw to bypass the mountain ring protecting the capitol to the west, north and east.
The Tubori Campaign is grueling, taking from 114 to 121. Seven years of jungle fighting or spent on ships, constantly being harassed by a faster, more knowledgeable force that loves to use poison and disease to their advantage.
Breaching the blockade would probably require a lighter vanguard to punch through the Tubori lines. If I were Dav, I would try and use fire ships. Though they would be difficult to light after passing through a stormy sea, blazing ships would hit the larger of the Tubori blockade vessels and sink them. These blockade vessels might have had groups of archers, bolt throwers or raiding parties on standby. The small Tubori ships would be a problem. Their mobility and familiarity with the border waters of the Squall would give them a tactical advantage to flank the incursion and sever rudder ropes, throw firebombs or flaming arrows into the sails.
A scenario for island hopping begins at Longpoint/Rapostra, a remote island far to the east on the border of the Squall. This tiny toehold is protected by a fort to the south, Merdigal, which guards one of the shortest routes from the mainland. If I were to characterize it, Merdigal would have been built before the Squall came into being. Though the Vandagan mountains are known for their stone quarries, the Tubori/Vandagan ancestors would have known stone with more than passing familiarity. There would not be much else to use, if Tubor was an icy island like Greenland. Prior to the Squall, Tubor could have been a geothermal oddity of cold temperatures, hot springs and volcanic swaths of rock which was later transformed into a Hawaii or Caribbean paradise.
Merdigal could be an island fort with stones cut from the dark volcanic earth. It is likely that it also included a lighthouse powered by timber or oil from the mainland. As Merdigal would not have to defend against high-powered, cannon-based naval bombardment, it is likely that its primary usage was as a watchtower and lighthouse. The walls would not need to be especially heavy, but would need to survive winter storm conditions prior to the Squall and tropical storm conditions afterward. The watchtower itself could be a four-sided, blunt pyramid shape to withstand such conditions. Under this would be barracks and supply, walled on three or four sides, depending on the geography. With signal fires placed high up in other watchtowers like these, the capitol could hear of infiltrating ships within a day.
And therein lies a strategic problem for this eastern approach into Tubor. Jaren would likely have known about Merdigal’s existence and possible communications system that would have alerted the Island capitol. In his debrief with Dav, he would have made total disclosure. Would Dav have even cared? Was the retreat of the Tubori – a social elite surrounded by a magical barrier – have solidified his opinion of the Islanders to the point of making their purge a necessity? Surely this assault was what Dav promised Jaren, and the Consolidation needed troops. So be it. The Tubori knew Jaren was going to return, selecting the eastern approach could have been to hammer home that fact and insight panic.
I am uncertain whether Dav would opt to attack Merdigal first or establish a toehold in Longpoint. In either case, the men that go ashore would be subjected to harassment from the sea, depending on how far inland they were able to get. A man with a rotten toe from waterlogged boots would find himself breakfast for crabs before morning on these beaches. The threat of Tubori raiding parties slipping boats into shore at night would be endemic. Tropical diseases, dysentery, mosquitoes, all manner of infernal natural contrivance would be cursed as foul magic wielded by the Islanders to slow the invasion. Even the matter of sea sickness would be an issue for the largely land-locked Lithmorrans and the Hillmen. None of the skirmishes at Longpoint or Merdigal would have been easy with weak-kneed men that had just braved the choppiest waters in the known world.
With both of these islands secured, Dav would have been forced to the main island in order to secure a supply of fresh water large enough to support his army. The mainland would have offered many benefits for the Consolidation forces; with an established beachhead, men would finally be able to find their feet and the LIthmorran and Hillmen forces would not be as violently ill. However, the mainland would also mean a new avenue of attack via ground. While seemingly a bonus for the Consolidation ground troops, they would be fighting in someone else’s backyard.
Tropical jungles have proven the bane of many invading armies throughout our own history, and a medieval campaign would be no different. It is a wild place filled with fear and danger. The locals would seem to have supernatural abilities of stealth and curses as they would fade in from the surrounding foliage, strike with poisons derived from the verdant wildlife, and then fading away. I honestly would not be surprised if Dav and Jaren slashed and burned their way from The Tail to The Throat if only to deprive the Tubori of their hiding places in front of the advancing army. In keeping with Dav’s theme of cleansing, it is likely that each province was cleared and troops left behind to cover the flanks. The Tubori had no place to retreat to other than other parts of the Island. Though the clear-and-garrison approach was slow and required vast resources, it seems like the only way for Dav to be sure and still have the problems I outlined in the timeline before – guerilla warfare.
The Lord Paramount, knowing that there is no welcome harbor in Sartez or Vandago, would have retreated into the capitol city and begun to orchestrate a counter-offensive that would use every advantage the Tubori had available. Their knowledge of the land, their ability to sail ships to any point within the island chain, and the long, winding supply chain that would extend from Longpoint back to the shores of Vandago. As a writer, my gut tells me that this is where the pirate prince tradition of the Tubori came into its own and became representative of the culture. They were horrible aristocratic louts turned freedom fighters. How cool is that? The gentry and even some of the nobility could have stripped away the trappings of their wealth, adopted the dress of the working-class commoners that ran the plantations and subverted every attempt that Dav made to identify and punish the ringleaders of the guerilla defense. Unless he put every Tubori he saw to the sword, he would never be sure until someone talked.
And this, my friends, is where it gets interesting. Let’s return for a moment to our principle characters and their development during this massive invasion. Jaren, we are told in the helpfile, is the Sword of Dav. How does he get so close to Dav during this time period? As stipulated before, it is probably because of his ability to relate to Dav as a fellow ruler and a peer. Aurthyn and Aelwyn were both guards or soldiers in Dav’s employ and in spite of proving themselves and being entrusted with vast amounts of responsibilities, their relationship with the king has likely suffered since his revelation. Aurthyn would be busy leading the troops and planning the day-to-day movements of his warrior elite. Aelwyn would be behind the Consolidation lines, overseeing the necessary purges and intelligence gathering of the locals through the ever vital Question. He would, as a priest of the Order, also have been in charge of securing the vital, life-giving waters on the mainlaind of Tubor.
Here we turn back to one of my favorite characters in TI lore: Gweran. Gweran is Dav’s defacto intelligence officer in my mind, and I think that there may be something to the title of Grand Bard of Tubor given to Martis le Cabot during the Consolidation. My reason for this is that Cabot was brought to Lithmore (according to the helpfile) during the Consolidation. While this is a 30 year span of time, and it could mean anywhen at all, I want to tie in Cabot’s rescue with Gweran’s super-power as a social dynamo. What if Cabot was rescued from Tubor during the assault? What if Gweran was able to extract him from the capitol in exchange for asylum before it fell to Dav’s forces? The possibilities are wonderful.
Lastly, during this year the breakneck construction of Nimrock is completed. Also, it is highly likely that the Lord Paramount sent a request to Vavard for some flanking support against the land-based supply chain of the Consolidation forces. The spring of the next year, 115, would see them throw their lot into the war as they moved in forces to harass the Vandagans from the Kirulean.
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Zeta Ockham
Sounds like Dav could have used some form of Greek Fire to ignite the ships prior to running them through the blockade. Although, the actual composition of the stuff is unknown so it might not be the best choice. The holds could have been sealed up and made as water tight as possible. This could allow them to be filled with barrels of an flammable substance which could then be ignited.
Structurally weakening them would not be a good idea as it could lead to them breaking up while passing through the Squall, but perhaps equipping them with some sort of break-away ramming feature, such as the ramming prows found on Greek triremes, could help with the spread of the conflagration in the hold.
The island hopping brings to mind the Pacific theatre during the Second World War. Especially as the United States was moving westward toward Japan. I would imagine that some of the tactics used by the Japanese could serve as inspiration for speculating on how the Tubori might have handled the invasion of their sub-tropical islands. Granted, the lack of obvious modern machinery does make for a bit of a stretch but I feel the comparison is apt.
Structurally weakening them would not be a good idea as it could lead to them breaking up while passing through the Squall, but perhaps equipping them with some sort of break-away ramming feature, such as the ramming prows found on Greek triremes, could help with the spread of the conflagration in the hold.
The island hopping brings to mind the Pacific theatre during the Second World War. Especially as the United States was moving westward toward Japan. I would imagine that some of the tactics used by the Japanese could serve as inspiration for speculating on how the Tubori might have handled the invasion of their sub-tropical islands. Granted, the lack of obvious modern machinery does make for a bit of a stretch but I feel the comparison is apt.
(short post as I go over my notes for these notes, noteception)
The physical make-up of the Tubori “army” and its armaments is difficult to discern as there are no historical accounts to start with. I would assume that there were two stages of armed forces in the region: the standing regulars, composed of the local peacekeepers and those stationed at the various wayforts/observation posts and dock security and then the irregular guerillas, which would be composed of multiple classes and capabilities. The regulars would be uniformed to a degree, at least their sergeants would bear the crest of their governing house and they would have armaments and training similar to their Vandagan counterparts, given the closeness the cultures share. In lieu of a crest, the guards would likely wear the colors of their dock authority or house. Or maybe a big hat made out of a conch.
Before diving into the battles of The Throat and the landing at Strongjaw across Lightwater bay, I want examine a few things, namely another look at the Squall as a force of change and the cultural implications of the Tubori/Vandagan conflict.
The Squall, the storms which constantly come up the temperature differential caused by Tubori’s opposing weather, is merely a symptom of the change inflicted by The Seven. Though the motivations are unclear, Tubor could have been an experiment by the Seven in joint-invocation. It could have been a show of force or the groundwork for a new home for the Skilled as a unified culture. Whatever the reason, the pocket of tropical weather would turn a cold rock into an exotic paradise. But when was it cast? Tubor was founded, according to the helps, prior to 8SC. If that is truly the case, then it is the earliest city known to history. What does this ‘founding’ mean semantically? I am of the mind that a founding does not necessarily mean the breaking of ground or that the city suddenly popped into existence. Building up from a hamlet to a city takes a good deal of time. The foundings listed in the helpfiles were probably the first year that a significant population held residence in the area and something like a king was put into place.
The Tubori could have been on the island for centuries before pushing south into the mainland. I believe that Tubor would have been inhabitable without the magic in place. I have tried to simulate the Tubori-Vandagan relationship a few ways. There was a wisp of a legend in the back of my mind that I believe came up the last time I asked about Tubori sailing beyond their island. This was eons ago when I was still playing Pter or Saern. The legend spoke about an unreachable nation of princes, perhaps similar to Atlantis. Of course, this was also before I realized that the island was surrounded by magic. However, this nation – The Princes Over the Sea – could have been a fragment of an explanation of the proto-Tubori arrival on the island. As mentioned at the beginning of my Pre-Consolidation timeline, there is a possible situation where the Tubori arrive via the sea, land on the Islands, and then establish a colony in present day Vandago. These people mingled with the proto-Hillmen and proto-Lithmorrans before their particular cultures were established as we understand them, giving birth to the heavier built Vandagans.
With knowledge of the Squall now in place, the situation evolves a little bit. The physical similarities between the Vandagans and the Tubori as mentioned in the helpfiles now leans toward a common point of origin – a people that were once united but then later divided upon class lines because of the sudden separation and improvement of the Islands. Was the climate change on Tubor sudden? It may not have been. In interest of describing the Squall as an early experiment by The Seven (even ‘A’ Seven), one should call to mind a balance in terms of energy demand. This spell is seemingly interminable, after all. Though the Seven are perceived as inhumanly powerful, I would wager that in interest of magical economy, they created a relatively simple effect with a longer duration instead of a complicated effect with a limited duration. We can see similar effects with the flaring of torches or the rhyming of rats.
It seems like they just parked a high-pressure weather system over Tubor and found a balancing point with naturally occurring weather systems along the coast. Sure, the temperature differential creates massive storms and therefore massive energy, but perhaps all of that bluster is feeding back into the energy loop. For all we know, this magical device could be a massive variation of Atmospheric Vortex called a hurricane with Tubor in the middle. Maybe they were trying to isolate the Islands from the rest of the world with a permanent typhoon, but the spell began to wane at some point, enabling trade to resume. There’s a thought. What if the Squall as we know it trapped Tubori-Vandagans on the Islands and separated them for a generation or two as the tropical climate transformed the landscape? What if this isolation is what caused the split in their languages, their appearance and culture? What if this cultural divide was an experiment by the Seven?
The physical make-up of the Tubori “army” and its armaments is difficult to discern as there are no historical accounts to start with. I would assume that there were two stages of armed forces in the region: the standing regulars, composed of the local peacekeepers and those stationed at the various wayforts/observation posts and dock security and then the irregular guerillas, which would be composed of multiple classes and capabilities. The regulars would be uniformed to a degree, at least their sergeants would bear the crest of their governing house and they would have armaments and training similar to their Vandagan counterparts, given the closeness the cultures share. In lieu of a crest, the guards would likely wear the colors of their dock authority or house. Or maybe a big hat made out of a conch.
Before diving into the battles of The Throat and the landing at Strongjaw across Lightwater bay, I want examine a few things, namely another look at the Squall as a force of change and the cultural implications of the Tubori/Vandagan conflict.
The Squall, the storms which constantly come up the temperature differential caused by Tubori’s opposing weather, is merely a symptom of the change inflicted by The Seven. Though the motivations are unclear, Tubor could have been an experiment by the Seven in joint-invocation. It could have been a show of force or the groundwork for a new home for the Skilled as a unified culture. Whatever the reason, the pocket of tropical weather would turn a cold rock into an exotic paradise. But when was it cast? Tubor was founded, according to the helps, prior to 8SC. If that is truly the case, then it is the earliest city known to history. What does this ‘founding’ mean semantically? I am of the mind that a founding does not necessarily mean the breaking of ground or that the city suddenly popped into existence. Building up from a hamlet to a city takes a good deal of time. The foundings listed in the helpfiles were probably the first year that a significant population held residence in the area and something like a king was put into place.
The Tubori could have been on the island for centuries before pushing south into the mainland. I believe that Tubor would have been inhabitable without the magic in place. I have tried to simulate the Tubori-Vandagan relationship a few ways. There was a wisp of a legend in the back of my mind that I believe came up the last time I asked about Tubori sailing beyond their island. This was eons ago when I was still playing Pter or Saern. The legend spoke about an unreachable nation of princes, perhaps similar to Atlantis. Of course, this was also before I realized that the island was surrounded by magic. However, this nation – The Princes Over the Sea – could have been a fragment of an explanation of the proto-Tubori arrival on the island. As mentioned at the beginning of my Pre-Consolidation timeline, there is a possible situation where the Tubori arrive via the sea, land on the Islands, and then establish a colony in present day Vandago. These people mingled with the proto-Hillmen and proto-Lithmorrans before their particular cultures were established as we understand them, giving birth to the heavier built Vandagans.
With knowledge of the Squall now in place, the situation evolves a little bit. The physical similarities between the Vandagans and the Tubori as mentioned in the helpfiles now leans toward a common point of origin – a people that were once united but then later divided upon class lines because of the sudden separation and improvement of the Islands. Was the climate change on Tubor sudden? It may not have been. In interest of describing the Squall as an early experiment by The Seven (even ‘A’ Seven), one should call to mind a balance in terms of energy demand. This spell is seemingly interminable, after all. Though the Seven are perceived as inhumanly powerful, I would wager that in interest of magical economy, they created a relatively simple effect with a longer duration instead of a complicated effect with a limited duration. We can see similar effects with the flaring of torches or the rhyming of rats.
It seems like they just parked a high-pressure weather system over Tubor and found a balancing point with naturally occurring weather systems along the coast. Sure, the temperature differential creates massive storms and therefore massive energy, but perhaps all of that bluster is feeding back into the energy loop. For all we know, this magical device could be a massive variation of Atmospheric Vortex called a hurricane with Tubor in the middle. Maybe they were trying to isolate the Islands from the rest of the world with a permanent typhoon, but the spell began to wane at some point, enabling trade to resume. There’s a thought. What if the Squall as we know it trapped Tubori-Vandagans on the Islands and separated them for a generation or two as the tropical climate transformed the landscape? What if this isolation is what caused the split in their languages, their appearance and culture? What if this cultural divide was an experiment by the Seven?
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