Utterly Mad

The King took the fire thrower from the Imperial after the brief instruction, and lined the sights up on his target. "And what is the key to constructing the crystals?" He braced, took a deep breath, and pulled the trigger. BOOM.

"That would be most appreciated. Much as I prefer my axe, the power of these devices cannot be ignored."

Haralus and Borrin took several more shots and had a fairly pleasant visit, all things considered. The daylight finally waned, and Haralus bid him farewell, returning to the castle with his gifts and entourage.

---

Later that evening, the King took some time to inspect the tribute Lyrkan had prepared for the Empress. A small gift, simply to repay the one given to him, it consisted mostly of quality crafts and trinkets, though Haralus did spy some more practical items such as an automated abacus and several tomes on historical economics. All seems fitting for a merchant Empire. he mused. Satisfied, he ordered it packed and sent to the inn, and went to his armory to pick out something for the commander.

Of all his personal rooms within the Citadel, the armory was certainly one of his favorites. Besides the opulence of the room itself, it was also simply a comfortable place to spend time. A massive hearth bathed the whole room in the warm glow of flames, while the golden walls absorbed enough heat to ensure the temperature was always comfortable. Several loungers arrayed before fireplace provided a good place to relax, or to read through a book from the small library he'd had installed upon his ascension to the throne. There was, however, no time for that this evening, so rather than selecting a story of mythical legends, or an account of a battle long past, the book the King pulled from his shelves was a catalog of items inside the armory itself.

He was on the hunt for a practical gift, something valuable, but not priceless. He eyes skimmed the pages as he lay on one of the loungers, and at some point, an attendant arrived with a jug of mead. After a fair bit of searching, he stopped, picking out a particularly good candidate from the massive list before him. Rising with his goblet of mead, he moved over to the weapon's location, and took it from it's home on the wall.

It was a long sword of Elven origin, presented to one of his ancestors for some service done to them in the past. Single edged, and razor sharp, it had been carried for a while out of respect by it's original owner, before being discarded in favor of a trusted axe. It contained history and meaning for some, but no special value for anyone still living or the King himself. Pulling it from it's sheath, he glanced back at his catalog, double checking the information of it's other interesting property. He pushed lightly on the gem set into the center of the hand guard, and the room was bathed in a blueish light that arced it's way up the blade. Rather pretty. While the magical light had no particularly special aspects, beyond never proven rumors that it was distasteful to the undead, it would do a good job of lighting the deepest of the catacombs, where the glow-fungus did not grow and torches would be mostly burned out. That should do. He put the sword back into it's sheath, and summoned Lyrkan, who he instructed to personally deliver the weapon.

He retired for the night, his mind full of thoughts and plans for the next day.

---

((Unstated actions that are happening:

- The court mages are investigating the cylinder.))

((If nothing happens in the evening, I will post the morning actions in a little bit. And then we can get to killing stuff and things.))

((So, by that, is it safe to say that without it's other components, the cylinder by itself is pretty much inert?))

Morning came quickly, much too quickly for the King's liking. The previous day had been busy, and the night had been late. No matter, there is work to be done!

He spent the first portion of the day alone in his chambers, going over the reports sent to him by the court mages in regards to the cylinder recovered from the Mist. They had been unable to identify it's purpose with any real certainly, but had concluded it was built to manifest something using a very specific type of energy - they had been unable to produce enough to make the object actually do anything. This, unfortunately, was not the answer the King was hoping for - he'd remained mindful of the dead Dwarf's mention of another artifact, similar to the heirloom crystal that had been in his family's possession for so long. Not knowing exactly what the reaction between the two may be made him leery. Still, fortune favors the bold. He wrote out a quick note for his mages to continue their investigation and to see if the crystal's presence somehow activated the cylinder. He also ordered that his court's scholars should make use of their Imperial counterparts to see if they were more familiar with whatever secrets the crystal might contain.

He had a brief morning meal of some fine mead and red meats, dealt with some of the trivial matters of the day to day operation of the Kingdom, then turned his attention to the grand strategy that would be discussed at the afternoon's meeting of the assembled force's ranking leaders. While most of the finer details would be relegated to liaisons, advisers, or the individual contingent's leaders themselves, there were some things that needed coordination.

One of the largest issues presented was that of actually coordinating the separate actions of such a large force. The catacombs had existed longer than the Rock itself, dating back to before the unification of the Highlands, when the cavern that housed the fortress was a simple mining operation. Few reliable maps existed, even of the top levels, and it seemed none had ever been made of the depths. Even for the Dwarves, who were accustomed to orienteering deep underground, the catacombs presented a serious challenge. It seemed very possible that the Men and Elves could lose themselves completely in the depths and never re-emerge.

His plan for dealing with this was somewhat risky. While mages could cast directional spells, and the more mundane troops could leave a marked trail behind, neither solution accounted for stragglers, or those who became separated from the main force. Accordingly, they would need some form of central landmark to which any tunnel would eventually lead. The landmark of choice was obvious: Some time, eons past, a massive central shaft had been dug to provide ventilation to the original miners. This had been lengthened and expanded upon, and while no one knew it with any certainty, it appeared to extend down to even the lowest of levels, miles and miles beneath the surface. As with most of the other entrances (or exits) to the catacombs, it had been sealed by his predecessors, who feared that the creatures beneath their feet might use it to sally forth into the Citadel. The seal itself was a massive obsidian disk, located directly in the center of the Rock's main courtyard. Removing this would allow air to flow freely through the tunnels, and all a lost soldier would have to do to find his way back to the center of the catacombs would be to follow this breeze.

Of course, it was sealed for good reason. Should we fail, then... well. The King pushed this thought from his mind - it had to be done, and so it would be.

A second issue was the division of troops. While he knew his own soldiers and the Elves would work together fairly well, he was unsure about how the Men of Harrowfeld would interact with them. The confrontation at the Inn the night before had been a harsh reminder that many Dwarves did not trust the younger races of Humanity - Harrowfeld's reputation as a nation of erstwhile allies and opportunists certainly did not help matters. He spent some time going over the troop rosters and order of battle assignments, tweaking them to his satisfaction. Though he was King of these lands, he did not set any of these plans into stone - he had made it clear to all parties that these sorts of matters would be open to reasoned debate. He had also made it clear to his own men that their appointments as ranking officers to the formations of their allies was more a matter of ceremony, and that while nominally outranking the foreigners under their command, they were to differ to the regular commanders and act strictly as advisers.

Finally, he made a quick review of the plan of attack and overall strategy. Having spent months considering the various options presented to him, he doubted that there were any improvements to be made there. Still, he spent the rest of his time checking and double checking the expected outcomes of the plan, before breaking for lunch.

---

After lunch, the King made his way to his armoury. He donned his finest ceremonial armor, a masterful piece of craftsmanship, heavily engraved, inset with fine gems, and gilded with precious metals. Despite it's appearance, it was also an incredibly functional protective device - the thick steel plates would turn most blades by themselves, and the engravings held enchantments that offered protection well beyond that of a more standard suit of similar design. It had served him well in many battles in the days of his early youth, and he did not doubt it would perform equally impressively in the coming battle. Over this, he donned a fine cloak of rich red fabrics.

He then turned to his weapon racks, and selected an equally impressive axe before remembering the gifts given to him by the Imperials. He returned it to it's place on the wall and took down the Imperial axe, finding it strapped perfectly over his shoulder without any adjustment. Finally, he moved to the racks that held a variety of more exotic weaponry. He paused for a while, debating on whether or not to bring the small fire-thrower that the Imperials had also gifted him. While he did not doubt the power it contained, openly wearing it had the potential to cause further issues amongst his own nobles. After some deliberation, he took it from it's display case and strapped it around his waist, making sure to do so in such a fashion that it would be concealed behind his cloak. The shot and crystals which powered it were tucked into similarly subtle leather pouches and also mounted on his belt.

Having prepared himself physically for the upcoming battle, he took several minutes and prepared himself mentally for the upcoming meeting, then exited the armoury and made his way to the assembly.

---

The meeting was held in the highest floor of the enormous gatehouse. The room was impressively large, with a vaulted ceiling that stretched far above the heads of even the tallest of the men assembled there. One wall of the room was covered in what maps of the Catacombs had been discovered, as well as stoneboards covered with childlike scribbles made by officers detailing planned troop movements and formations. A solid chunk of stone, carved directly from the rock that made up the Citadel itself, ran across the room, acting as a table, and ornate chairs had been brought up for the guests to sit on. Drinks, food, and some small pass-times had been provided, and there was almost a celebratory mood in the air.

The King was the last to arrive, as was fitting, and he took a few seconds to watch the interactions of his guests before moving to sit on his throne at the end of the table. Much like the table itself, it had been carved from the rock around them, inlaid with bones that were rumored to have come from a dragon, and engraved with Dwarven runes that spoke of legendary heroes from days long past. It, much like the rest of the room, was incredibly impressive.

Damned throne, mused the King, A curse on whichever of my forefathers thought stone would make for a comfortable seat. He had managed to get in and settle into his chair mostly unnoticed - the only reaction he was given was from Lyrkan, who moved to take his place at the King's side.

"Attention!" Lyrkan barked, cutting through the hubbub, "All Hail Lord Haralus Thornbeard, King of the Highland Dwarves, Protector of The Gullies, and Guardian of the Rock." He was met with a resounding cry of "All Hail!" from the rest of the crowd in the room, though some were more enthusiastic than others.

"His Lordship has called this meeting to discuss our actions, starting this evening, in the Catacombs. Before we commence this discussion, does any man here have the need to address the King?"

---

((Actions:

- The court mages are going to see if the cylinder has anything to do with the crystal.
- The imperial mages have been asked to also check out the crystal.

Think that sums up the roll-worthy stuff or whatever.))

((Questions:

- Did Slade end up showing up at the meeting?))

If no one needs to speak before the King, I'll try to post a second part shortly. Edits for spelling and shit.

Haralus sighed to himself. While he'd never given implicit orders that the catacombs were off-limits to the general population, it had always been implied that they were not a place to be toyed with, or entered lightly. That Slade was apparently involved was an annoyance - the larger concern was that the Dwarf apparently felt no shame at sending Durrin's young sons to their deaths. That dishonor and guilt should weigh heavily on any Dwarf. The King rose from his seat, and addressed the grizzled warrior.

"Durrin Ironhold, as always, I appreciate your honest words. It disappoints me that your children have acted foolishly, but I am more disappointed that someone among our people would knowingly encourage our brethren to put themselves in such danger. It is a shameful act, and a pointless one. Still, there is no dishonor on you, nor have I been wronged by this action. Should they survive, there will be no punishment, nor will there be any reward should they meet with success - it is a mere folly of youth. As there is no crime in encouraging foolishness, no matter how shameful an action it may be, I cannot offer you any recourse against the instigator, should the dog ever be publicly identified." Haralus had some difficulty in disguising the disgust in his tone while speaking those last words. The King bowed his head slightly. "I will instruct our priests to ask the Ancestors for their protection, and will detach a small unit to search for them when we enter the underground in force."

The King returned to his seat. "Would anyone else address his Lordship?"

---

((Anything specific to know about the catacombs themselves that the Highlanders would already know about, or should I just run with it a bit?))

No one else spoke up. Lyrkan looked over at Haralus, who gave a small nod. "As the King's audience has spoken their peace, His Lordship now calls this assembly to order. All tongues shall be held until the dictation of his will is complete."

Though the plans had been formed by both of them, it would have been unseemly to the King to address the group directly in such a formal session. He would sit back and allow Lyrkan to do the speaking, though he had suddenly changed his mind about a small matter that would have to be addresses shortly.

"With the formalities done, I believe all of you should be aware as to why we are here. The beasts below us have troubled us long enough, and his Lordship has called upon the willing warriors of our nation and it's allies to address this." Lyrkan summoned over an attendant, who handed him a long stick. He walked over to the maps of the catacombs, and continued:

"As you can see, there are several entrances to the underground, with the currently active ones being here, here, and here." He tapped out the locations with his stick. "While one main entry point would be beneficial to our forces, structural realities mean that we unfortunately cannot seal these three entrances. Instead, we will be assigning the Volunteer Legion to enter from these points, progress to these areas," he tapped the map again, marking the holding points, "And perform a holding action against anything the main force drives up from beneath. We will also have small numbers of the Citadel Guard posted to the entrances themselves, should anything make it past the Volunteers."

Lyrkan took a deep breath. He knew this next part would unsettle some. "The main force will be entering from the central shafts, which we will unseal shortly after this session adjourns. His Lordship is acutely aware of the risks involved in this, but I feel I speak for all those gathered here when I say that we should have little need to fear anything making it through our collective armies. Regardless, the remainder of the Guard will be posted around the shaft to insure the security of the Citadel." If there were any objections, the audience was polite enough to obey court customs and hold their tongues.

"As you can see, there are four large corridors that descend into the depths of the catacombs from this shaft. We have broadly assigned each national force to one of these - they will be responsible for pushing forward into the underground from here."

Lyrkan spoke for some length, assigning the Elves to the north passage, the Men of Harrowfeld to the south, the Imperials to the east, and the Dwarves to the west. He then touched on the rally plan: "Should your men become lost, or should you need to regroup your forces, you will simply follow the flow of air back to the central shaft. We have made provisions for a basecamp to be set up there, and our supply chains will radiate from that point." He then went on to discuss more specific tactics for each group, and make recommendations on how best they could achieve their directives and fight effectively in the tight tunnels on the lower levels.

"We will push as far as we can, and his Lordship has faith that we shall meet success in utterly eradicating our foe.

After delving into the basic plan, the topic turned to how the forces would be arranged. "While our allies are all self-sufficient in regards to their combat capabilities, His Lordship submits the following changes be made to our order of battle:

Firstly, our friends the Elves have brought many capable healers. These will be used to supplement our own medical staff, and be divided amongst all the regular forces. The Volunteers have been assigned a number of our own healers, who should be capable of keeping them alive should they encounter more serious resistance than we anticipate.

Secondly, the Men of the Empire have contributed a group of soldiers known as Rangers, and their commander has assured us that they are capable of acting independently. These men will also be divided amongst the forces, and will be responsible for giving heavy support where they are needed - their fire-throwers will compliment our axes and arrows if we meet a powerful foe.

Similarly, our mages have prepared themselves for combat, and will also be divided amongst those assembled. Their numbers are limited compared to the rest of us, and their powers can be exhausted - they are not to be used lightly. In addition to this, should the tunnels have no end, and it be determined that pushing further will only result in an unacceptable loss of life, they will be responsible for permanently sealing off the passages. To this end, we have also attached engineers to each division, so that they can decided how to most effectively accomplish this if the need arises.

As the Men of Harrowfeld, as well as our own forces, are the most numerous amongst us, we shall form a reserve from members of both parties, to be sent into combat where needed. This reserve will rotate as the campaign wears on - this should keep the soldiers from growing too weary.

Beyond this, you and your officers shall take the fight to our foes in the manner you see fit. We have placed our own officers and liasons into your forces to advise you and suggest courses of action. All of these men are veterans of this terrain, and will prove invaluable."
Lyrkan motioned for the attendant again, and was handed a long list of names.

"While the lower ranks are aware of their assignments, I have before me a finalized list of ranking officers and liasons. The following officers will be assigned to the Harrowfeld group." He rattled off some names, then repeated the process for the Elves, including his own as a strategic liason. "It has been decided that the tactics used by our Imperial allies are foreign enough to us all that they would not benefit from having low level advisors. Instead, Durrin Ironhold and the officers of his choosing shall be assigned to their command staff to make strategic recommendations and act as liason." As per Borrin's request, no mention of the Imperial mages was made, and Haralus trusted Durrin to keep their activities quiet.

Haralus knew that what was about to happen next would come as a bit of a surprise to Lyrkan. "The following Dwarves will be given responsibility for their own divisions of forces:

Aeric Cutmaker will lead the Iron Fists.

Baric Firestone will lead the Night Axes...."

He continued listing the appointments for some time, and the King noted the smiles of those chosen. He could recall his first serious appointment as though it were yesterday. It is good they realize the honor they are given. All the more reason for them to earn it.

"Slade Stoneburrow shall.." Haralus held up a hand, cutting Lyrkan off, and motioned for him to come speak in private. He spoke quietly, and directly into his second's ear. A puzzled, then concerned look crossed his face before he turned back to the other, and continued. "Slade Stoneburrow shall head the King's personal Guard, and be entrusted for his safety while he makes his inspections of the front."

This was indeed a surprise to many. Though he often spoke of his martial skill, it was widely accepted that Slade had not been tested in many actual combats, at least combats that the other nobles were aware of. Beyond this, the King usually acted as the head of his own guard, seeing little need for a go-between. And this honor, I'm not sure he knows what to do with. The King suppressed a smile. Perhaps some responsibility would be good for Slade, and this way, worst come to worst, Haralus could at least keep an eye on him.

Lyrkan finished his list, then moved on to the division of spoils. "As every Dwarf here knows, the catacombs are vast and ancient. Our ancestors dug deep, and there are many artifacts and treasures hidden below for our taking. Any artifact of magical or historical importance shall be left in place, under the normal Penalties of Theft, until they can be investigated and cataloged by our scholars. All other spoils will be retrieved by our combined support staffs, and be stockpiled for division after the campaign is completed." Lyrkan cast a serious glance around the room. "This includes any personal trophies - we do not know what dangers we may face, and we do not need our soldiers letting their guards down while trying to retrieve objects for their bragging rights." He continued on, detailing the percentages each nation, commander, division, squad, soldier (and so on) could take after the fight was over - the lion's share obviously went to the Royal Treasury, and the leaders of the respective nations were free to dictate how much of their share the troops would *actually* be able to keep, but the King felt he had been acceptably generous in making sure his allies were compensated. If we meet with success, it's very possible I've just made many men rich.

The rest of the meeting consisted of Lyrkan revisiting strategies and expounding on details, and the King found his mind wandering. He'd never been very patient for official planning sessions such as this, and spent the rest of the assembly trying to look interested while also daydreaming about what strange treasures and beasts they might discover below. "Thus ends the dictation of our Lordship's will. Any wishing to speak and contribute may do so now." Lyrkan's words brought Haralus back to reality, and he re-focused on the task at hand, ready to address any concerns or discuss any alterations.

---

((Ok, so, not actions but a summary:

- Each nation has dwarves attached to it's army on varying levels of command, as well as mages, healers, scholars, and engineers.
- The main plan is to enter through the shaft in the central courtyard, send each army in one of four directions, and then basically let them be responsible for themselves.
- The Volunteers are pretty much just in charge of keeping the other entrances secure, as are the Citadel Guards.
- There is a decent reserve force of men and Dwarves. As I wrote this all out, I realized I have no idea as to how much of the Highlands military was freed up for this.
- Slade gets to hang out with the King. Sounds fun. The King's Guard are still his handpicked men, but will nominally take orders directly from Slade.
- There is a nominal division of spoils. I don't think I explained this well up there, but it's set up kind of like a 17th century boat - captains (head commanders) get x%, ranking officers (division commanders) get x%, soldiers get x%. Of course, the King of Harrowfeld might decide that he keeps 80% of the loot assigned to Harrowfeld which means that the soldiers from there get y% instead of x%, but the King's own men will get well paid, as will the Volunteers. The King has been generous, but also isn't just giving dwarven money away, so to speak. The Highlands will get a very large percentage of whatever is pulled up - I don't have a number in mind since actual dollar values are maybe a bit irrelevant, but it's a high enough number that he doesn't expect any of his subjects will complain.
- Anything magical doesn't get touched because it might be dangerous. Anything historical (art, statues, whatever) doesn't get looted. Once that stuff is all checked out, it might get included as loot.
- Penalties of Theft mean harsh punishment, up to losing a hand.

I think that covers most of it, but I'm sure you'll catch anything I miss anyway.

Also, other people should get in on this shit. You can literally do whatever you want according to Vulnus. Hell, I get to lead a crusade into the deeps and in then end, possibly end up wrecking one of the major kingdoms if my future plans go really wrong. If Haralus dies, I could get to be some peasant dealing with whatever mess he's left. I even get to help make some lore apparently, which is cool as shit. What's not to like about this concept?))

((OH, THEY'RE FLAMETHOWERS. Very cool.

Also, I'm suddenly very glad for the extra legion that's coming. I didn't mention them in the strategy meeting because Haralus (i.e. me) maybe underestimated how dangerous this was all going to be, and figured we'd be mopping up Azmodal's version of giant rats by the time they got here. I am pleasantly surprised.

For scaling sake, and so the King can properly adjust his strategy, roughly how many creatures vs. soldiers were involved in this fight?))

---

It looks like we have a fight on our hands. In the many years since the last serious attempt at exploring the catacombs had occurred, the stories of the beast therein had apparently become watered down, and Haralus was shocked at how easily they'd managed to cut through his men. We might need to adjust our tactics a bit.

While the cleanup was in progress, he waved over Lyrkan. His second jogged up to him, looking slightly uncomfortable with what had just transpired. "Send out a runner to the Volunteer divisions, and have part of our reserve be directed there. Send another one to the armorers and have them begin issuing short spears alongside the standard arms. Our numbers will mean little when we are spread through the tunnels, and in the tight passageways - a good spear might mean the difference between a man dying and keeping these creatures at bay." Lyrkan nodded, and ran over to a small group of his men, passing on the instructions.

Catching Borrin's eye, the King waved him over as well. "Well, my friend, do these beasts look familiar to you?"

Name: Alexander Harrowfeld, Prince of Harrowfeld
Age: 37
Race: Human
Job: Second Son of King Harrowfeld
Skills: Excellent Swordsman, Tactician
History: Alexander was born to the King, Ashur Harrowfeld, second of two sons. He had the great misfortune of being the later child, his brother Walden receiving all of the attention, titles, and inheritance. He spent most of his young life the ward of his uncle, Roger Goodman, who trained him brutally in all methods of swordplay common in the kingdom. He was given a choice when he came of age. Enter the clergy, as so many second sons in the past had, or enlist to train the peasant levies and poorly disciplined mercenaries that make up the majority of the nations military, as the honor and glory of battle, the thundering of hooves and the din of combat, are reserved for the knights, their first born, and the first born of the king. He enlisted with a mercernary unit after a few years of this soul destroying work, but has returned home once more, hearing his brother has left for a war in the dwarven realms, and his father is aging... One way or another, Alexander will sit on the throne.
Clothes: Black leather coat, part of his mercernary uniform, a plain pair of trousers, and sturdy leather boots.
Armor: An unadorned black Great Helm, and a set of plane and unadorned plate mail armor, metal breastplate resting over a mail tunic, and a set of sturdy bracers, gauntlets, and high metal boots.
Weapons: A thick, broad bastard sword, and a sturdy round shield of iron plated oak.
Other Items: A necklace with a magical crystal shard of some unknowable pearlescant material