11th of Gornow, 26E219
Novo Dvoretz, Caer Kosev, Reznek Province, Novograd Region, Endaria
~1200
Caer Kosev, formerly known as Zamok Kosev, was the capital of the Novograd Region, a rich and fertile farmland and shipbuilding region regularly traded between Endaria and Noveia in countless wars. The New Palace, Novo Dvoretz, sat on a hill on the edge of town, overlooking the town. Within the halls, was the grand throne room of the king of the Region. The throne room itself was dark, its high ceiling, supported by great stone pillars, seemed to almost fade into the darkness. Wrought iron braziers both illuminated and warmed the throne room. The black banners, emblazoned with a crimson lotus only seemed to make the throne room more imposing than elegant. There were no guards in the room, instead, there was but two people. A servant girl, standing by the throne with a tray supporting a wooden box and a bottle of vodka, kept magically chilled, and a man, lounging in the animal fur clad throne. The man struck a striking appearance. He was clearly young, barely an adult. His black hair long and his rust colored eyes piercing. He wore tall, knee high black leather boots with his dark grey pants and oriental collar shirt. Draped over his shoulders was a long black leather coat, the collar, cuffs, and hem lined with black bear fur. He wore a black mazepynka cap, tilted slightly, and the silver earrings dangling from his ears glinted in the firelight.
With a silent glance at the servant girl, the girl opened the box on the tray. The man, the Black Tsar of Novograd, reaches in the box and grabs a pinch of some form of dried leaf and packs it into his Kiseru pipe, an ornate piece, recovered from the household of a fallen samurai family of the now destroyed Nara Shogunate. With a snap of his fingers, he ignites the contents of the pipe and takes a slow drag. The sound of the doors to the throne room opening drew the attention of the man, exhaling smoke as he watches the arrival approach the throne. The arrival was a man, wearing a black chokha coat, black boots, black gloves, and a papakha, adorned with crow feathers. The lower half of his face was concealed by a black face mask. He kneels before the throne.
"Speak, Oprichnik. What word do you bring me?" The Black Tsar is the first to speak, taking another drag from the pipe, a sweetish, dank smell of pine filling the air as he exhales the smoke.
"A copy of the report from the initial expedition to the new lands, Lord Kaminsky." The Oprichnik replies, offering up a scroll. The Black Tsar nods, and gestures to the servant girl, who sets down the tray, walks over, and retrieves the scroll, and brings it to her lord. He takes it, ripping off the seal and unfurling the scroll to read it. He draws from his kiseru as he reads silently.
"Huh… interesting. So there are multiple humanoid races with intelligence?" He asks, exhaling. He returns his attention to the Oprichnik.
"I don't know, Lord Kaminsky-" The man begins to speak, but he is interrupted by Orin raising a hand.
"Just call me Orin for now. My first name is easier and quicker to say, and no one is around for decorum to matter." Orin states before gesturing for the man to continue.
"Of course, Orin. As I was saying… I don't know. I didn't read the report. I only know what was officially published for everyone to hear. We also got sketches of the dignitaries, sir. If you flip to the back pages, all will include the sketches of the races that were in the entourage." The Oprichnik continues. Orin flips to the back pages and looks at the sketches of the races for a brief moment before returning to reading. Finally, after reaching the "situation report", Orin grins and tosses the stack of papers aside. He picks up the bardiche leaning against his throne. The Oprichnik looks at Orin in surprise. "Sir?" He asks.
"Prepare my personal flotilla and mobilize the other Oprichniki. We're going to Northrend." Orin orders enthusiastically.
"Is there a reason sir?" The Oprichnik asks as he stands up. Orin looks at him, laying the bardiche across his shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm bored. And there's excitement in Northrend." Orin answers, waving the Oprichnik off, who quickly bows his head and leaves the throne room to fulfill Orin's commands.
"Gerda, ready my horse. I'm departing at once." Orin orders, tying his hair back in a ponytail and dumping the contents of his pipe in a brazier. The servant girl bows and rushes out of the throne room. Orin pockets his pipe and sighs. He looks around the throne room one last time, then leaves.
11th of Gornow, 26E219
Zeppelin Tower, Durotar
~1500
"Marvelous! The Tsar is going to be thrilled!" Sokolov exclaims to his companion, his aide de camp, Kolochev who is loading their packs into their cabin on the zeppelin as Sokolov looks over the signed document.
"Certainly, it's good that we have secured an ally in this new world, Captain, but what was the point of the defensive pact? Do we really have a reason to help out people we just met?" Kolochev asks as he delicately slides a pack under the bed.
"While yes, it's certainly risky and certainly this 'Horde' may very well not be worth our time, they might be worth someone else's time. A defensive pact will reduce the Horde's ability to establish military alliances with the other powers, such as Endaria." Sokolov explains as he carefully seals the documents in a wax coated envelope.
"So it's to deny access to the other empires? I can see the logic in that. But how does the scribes deal help us?" Kolochev further questions.
"Come now, the reason behind that one is very easy, Ensign. Knowledge is power. Gaining access to Horde archives will allow us to know the history of this world and its societies. How they think. What they value. That can make us better friends or… far more lethal enemies." Sokolov turns to face Kolochev, sitting down at the desk inside the cabin and grinning. "I imagine Endaria, which has apparently made contact with the Alliance, will settle a similar deal. So long as we prevent word of this deal from getting out before they settle on something."
"How could their knowledge of our deal affect things, sir?" Kolochev asks, sitting on his bed.
"Simple, if Endaria learns of the deal, they can inform the Alliance of the deal. This will give Endaria a leg up in negotiations, as the Alliance will be desperate to cut as good or better of a deal with Endaria, lest they get outpaced by the Horde. Therefore, Endaria will be able to essentially force the Alliance to provide more in return. That obviously is not desirable to us. More for Endaria means more of an advantage that they would have over us. We already struggle to keep pace with them after we lost the majority of our fleet in the last war, and without the lands of Novograd, we can only maintain high intensity wars during the warmer months." He explains, breaking out a bottle of vodka from his pack and taking a swig.
"Information War." Kolochev remarks.
"Exactly."
13th of Gornow, 26E219/13th Day of the 8th Month of the 3018th Year of the Third Age
Shores of Harandor, Gondor, Middle Earth
~1700
Kasimir and his men walked in loose formation, departing the beach as they head in land. Tramel and Piotr were on point, with Hans and Jozef bringing up the rear. Victor was out of sight, having rushed off to maintain a position where he can keep an eye on the squad.
"Hot day. Think we will find people anytime soon?" Erich remarks, scanning the area. The hot, late afternoon sun beat down on them. Erich, Piotr, Jozef, Tramel, Walter, and Akira had all stripped off their studded leather chest armor and chainmail shirts to avoid getting to hot.
"Hopefully. It's too goddamn hot. Why did we have to land somewhere so toasty?" Akira responds, wiping his neck of sweat. He takes a swig from his canteen and groans.
"The sunburns are going to be a bitch." Jozef speaks up from the rear.
"Oh yaaas… my smooth skin is going to be like… so messed up from this…" Imad jokes flamboyantly, eliciting a laugh from August and Akira.
"Your impression of a girl from Dalemedor is disturbingly good, Imad." Hans comments.
"Is that a compliment?" Imad asks.
"Not supposed to be." Hans chuckles.
As they march on, they reach an abandoned hamlet. The squad looks around, soon realizing there is no one here.
"Guess they heard you were in the area and decided they needed to get out before they had to listen to you, Imad!" Walter remarks as he glances inside a house.
"Harhar! Very funny, jackas-!" Imad begins to respond, but he is interrupted by an arrow slamming into the wall a few inches from his head. He wastes no time.
"Contact! Hostile!" Imad shouts, diving for cover behind a barrel. The others scatter. Hans and Jozef take cover in a house. Walter and Piotr dash into a stable. Tramel scans the area as he shoves Erwin and Erich in a ditch, diving in with them. Kasimir, August, and Akira take cover behind a shed. They hear shouting from the direction of the arrow. A few other arrows whiz bay as they are taking cover. Tramel looks up from out of the ditch. Almost two dozen attackers, men in red and black armor, wearing turbans and wielding sabers and bows are rushing the hamlet.
"Contact from the east!" Tramel shouts. The others draw their crossbows and turn their attention towards the attackers.
"Fire at will!" Comes the order from behind the shed. Walter and Piotr are the first to fire, landing accurate center of mass hits on two bow wielding targets. A few arrows are fired at them, but they take cover, avoiding the small volley. There is a brief flash of blue light, barely visible in the late afternoon sunlight. The flash of light, faster than an arrow, hits another archer in the head, causing a burst of a pink cloud as the archer's head is partially carved out by the mysterious projectile. He falls dead to the ground. A rapid series of smaller bolts, fired from repeating crossbows, flies out of the window of a house. The front two attackers are struck by a handful of bolts each. They stumble and fall with cries of pain, fatally wounded.
"Cover me!" Imad shouts, dashing out from behind the barrel now that the archers have fallen.
"Supporting!" Akira shouts out in response as he and Walter also break from cover and join Imad in making contact with the enemy. Bolts fired from behind the shed strike down three more attackers as the three squad members charge the remaining enemies. Drawing their swords, they close the distance.
Walter is the first to make contact. As an attacker raises his sword in an overhead strike, Walter dashes inside the enemy's guard, driving the pommel of his sword into face of the enemy, earning a satisfying snapping sound as the nose is broken. The man shouts in pain, stumbling back, allowing Walter to slash him across the stomach. He turns to face the next enemy, who is charging him. As he prepares to defend from the attack, Imad dashes in from the man's blind spot, swinging upward as the man's blade comes down, contacting the man's wrist. The man's hand and sword fall to the ground. Walter lunges forward, thrusting through the man's neck before he can scream. He looks off to his left to see Akira taking down an enemy as well. Four others lie dead or dying from crossbow bolts. The remaining attackers had already begun to retreat and now turn and flee completely. Two more are struck dead. One struck in the back by a crossbow bolt, and the other's throat seems to explode in a bloody mist as another flash of light strikes him.
"Enemies neutralized or routed!" Walter reports, shouting, as the rest of the squad breaks from cover and walks over to join them.
"Just what the hell was that though? Akira asks, inspecting the body in front of him.
"Perhaps they are the reason the village is abandoned." Hans remarks, slinging his repeating crossbow over his shoulder.
"I'm not seeing anything on them…" Tramel says, looking through another body as August, Piotr, and Erich also check bodies.
"Well, take any money they have on them. I doubt Endarii are valid in this area." Kasimir orders. The others nod and begin salvaging any coin they can find on the bodies.