Rumours of War

Humble Beginnings

You all had your individual reasons for signing on with the Madrigal Company at the recruitment drive in the town of Granforth. Their Commander, Lucius Arenius, was well known and had a reputation for fairness. A mercenary company is a more stable job than joining one of the so-called ‘adventurers guilds’, and for all the stories of adventurers rising to fame and fortune from humble beginnings, most of them end up dead or forgotten. There are exceptions of course. The Legendary Colonel Markus was once a tavern bouncer, and King Skotti himself was an adventurer in his early years. Even Saint Cuthbert of the cudgel started life as a peasant with a stick.
But the Madrigal Company was a promise of respect. With a war on the horizon they could expect to be paid well, and receive the best training and equipment. 20 silvers a month, good food, and a chance to make a good career.
After a few weeks of drill it wasn’t looking too good... “I don’t care if you think you’re some sort of wizard, pick up that shield and spear and get into line, and if I hear one more complaint about wearing the armour, I’ll put you on a charge. What do you think’s gonna stop you getting skewered when the arrows start flying?”
Not everyone is cut out to be in the heavy infantry, but the rule was: everyone trains. That way you know what your fellows are going through. They sweated their way through gruelling drill and combat manoeuvres, ten mile runs and all-night watches.
One evening, after some particularly brutal shield-drill, you are called before Lucius in his command pavilion. Sweaty and tired, you come to attention.
“We did not all think you would stick with it, so many have dropped out. But that’s the point isn’t it? You’ve shown great determination to get this far. Not great sense maybe, but you’ve got guts. And guts is enough.”
“You’ve passed the test. If you can put up with all the shit we’ve been piling on you for the last few weeks, you’re ready for the next step.” Lucius scratches his short beard and gestures to a wiry man in an expensive doublet and hose. “This is Mister McGuffy, who represents certain interests in Gradsul, and he’s got a proposition for you...”


Rumours of War...

For many years the Lion throne of Keoland has dominated the south western regions of the Flaneass. From the capital Niole Dra, King Kimbertos Skotti has ruled wisely, and entered into alliances with the neighbouring countries. Trade is good, and the people are prosperous. Merchant adventurers and colonists take ship to explore the Amedio jungles, far to the south, and bring back tales of riches and ancient civilisations. The laws of the King are adhered to, and peace prevails.
The Gods of Greyhawk are widely worshipped – Pelor, Ehlonna, and Heironeous in particular are favoured. The popularity of the Gods of Asgard, Olympus and Heaven westward (Norse, Greek and Eqyptian) are also on the increase, with ‘missionaries’ taking the word of the Gods to the new colonies.

Although Niole Dra is the seat of government, the great city of Gradsul is the shining star in the Keoish Crown.
The City of Grasul at the mouth of the Sheldomar is the largest seaport in Keoland, larger than both the foreign ports of Gryrax and Irongate, its closest rivals on the Azure Sea. As such it maintains a large fleet year round near its protected harbor, that guards both access to the navigable portion of the river and provides security for mercantile vessels along the Azure Coast. Behind its expansive wharves is a vast sea quarter of warehouses interspersed with shops and eateries. The open markets of Gradsul, located between the palace of the Duke and the sea quarter, are undoubtedly the mercantile center of Keoland, a gateway to traders from as far away as the Aerdi Coast and the Densac Gulf. Unlike Niole Dra, the city sports a diverse population of various races as well as numerous visitors from across the sea. The people of Gradsul are not as superstitious or provincial as their brethren in other provinces.


The Duke of Gradsul, whose family seat is the port city, is a powerful figure in the kingdom. Often thought of as second in influence only to the Throne of the Lion and the Council of Niole Dra (of which he is a prominent member), the duke is also traditionally allied with mercantile interests. The current Duke of Gradsul is Austin Churchill who also heads the royal navy in his role as Lord High Admiral of Keoland. He is considered one of a handful of prime candidates in the Court of the Land to replace Skotti, should the current monarch fail to produce a suitable heir. Of course, many of the Dukes of Gradsul have been elected to the throne in the past, most notably the line of Tavish (287-488 CY) which inaugurated the kingdom's imperialistic phase. Many nobles see Austin Churchill as a potential successor to these kings in more ways than one and want no part of another bid for empire.


Trouble Brewing.

Until recently, the Hold of the Sea Princes has kept much to itself. Originally settled by retired pirates, It is haven for people who don’t wish to live under the rule of any king and prefer a more localised form of government (or sometimes no government at all). Here everyone is a ‘prince’ and the country is a loose collection of city states and minor lords. Hobgoblins and other creatures live freely amongst the more common ‘civilised’ races. Much of the area is poor, sparsely populated marshland, but the Hold extends a considerable influence over the Azure Sea.
The fortress port of Monmurg, built on the remains of an ancient volcano has been a trade centre for honest and dishonest merchants alike. For years it has been a thorn in the side of the Keoish throne, and it has always been claimed that piracy and slavery are rife there.
About a year ago, a sudden, bloody coup left the entire city in control of Terractus, who proclaims himself high priest of Erythnul, (God of Slaughter, Bestial rage and other nasty stuff). Thousands of hobgoblins, gnolls, ogres, a few Fire giants and at least one Dragon took over the disunited merchant houses, sacked the Norse temples and imposed a rule of terror.
Stories tell that the place is importing slaves in huge numbers from the Amedio jungles, holding death-sports and organising the many ships there into one big fleet. Keoish sea power is being interdicted in many skirmishes in the Azure Sea and is virtually cut off from her colonies in the south.
No declaration of war has been made, and ambassadors from Monmurg have declared these attacks on Keoish ships to be nothing more than terrorist pirates, disgruntled with the new change of government.
In Keoland there is a rising lobby for ‘something to be done’ about the Monmurg situation. Some want a military policing action, some a surgical strike by suitable heroes, and some a full-scale crusade, to wipe away the evil once and for all. Mercenary companies are being raised and preparations are being made for the war that everyone are sure is coming.

Eve of Destruction?

A couple of months ago a massive storm lashed the Azure Sea. When it was over, a fleet of ships the like of which had never been seen found their way to Anchor off Gradsul harbour. These strange ships, including one enormous vessel, seemed to be home to a whole race of refugees from a far off land or some say another world. Calling themselves the T’chien (commonly referred to as the ‘Chin’) these people are apparently all that is left of a once great Empire. They have many strange customs and worship different Gods altogether, but ones that seem to grant them little power. They are weak in magic but very strong and fearsome warriors. Their martial class they call ‘Samurai’...
They are currently moored off the coast with their Emperor awaiting a personal meeting with King Skotti, although many of these refugees are finding their way into the city, to a mixed reception.

Author: Dave Brown

Last modified by Jon Burfoot