The 8th Crusade was launched against The Crown of Eyes in 1286 PDE. This Crusade has failed. Our adventurers begin assigned to the rearguard covering the months-long retreat to the safety of the mountain passes.
The continent of Tor-Duhn has been at war for over a millennia. The natural consequence of some poor, forgotten soul teaching a sentient locust swarm the vile art of Necromancy.
It wasn't long after that fateful event that The Crown of Eyes, a term used both to describe the nation and the insectoid ruler of said nation, started expanding, consuming everything in their path. They begun on the northeastern coast, and in less than two years only a lucky few survived.
The first, and then the second Crusades were called, and The Crown of Eyes was driven past the Duskborne Mountains.
All life on Tor-Duhn exists within this context. The Sun rises. The Crown hungers.
Some run, chasing fairy tales of safe passage across the seas.
Some hide, deep in forests or under the earth, hoping that these barriers hold back death long enough for them to find it on their own.
For many, the only choice in the face of this oblivion is to fight. This isn't the heyday of the Crusaders, so many years in the past. Our enemy is wiser now. Cautious, with well-trained soldiers and a deceptively competent bureaucracy dedicated to waging war upon the world.
Given time, it will unerringly determine the best way to exterminate us.
And so we fight. Again and again and again.
One day we will lose.
But with the Gods as our witness, it won't happen on our watch.
Continental Politics:
There are only four nations which survived the initial onslaught of The Crown of Eyes. In the years since they've absorbed territory from their now-dead former neighbors as they've marched towards the mountains.
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The Theocracy of the Hearth sits at the south of the continent, expanding into the hills of the Duskborne Mountains as The Crown was pushed back. The beating heart of industry and trade on the continent, it wields outsized financial influence. Originally a primarily Dwarven and Gnomish nation, the Theocracy absorbed a large number of refugees during the dark years and now boasts a more metropolitan population.
Their ruling council is composed of a mixture of industry leaders, elected officials, and members of the clergy. The church of Torag has retained many extra-legal privileges over the years, and still has complete control of the Nation's standing army in addition to its own separate treasury.
Since crossing the Ocean is all but impossible, and there is no nation on another continent willing to accept teleportation from Tor-Duhn on fear of The Crown infiltrating, the Theocracy has had to get a little clever with trade partners. One of their solutions is an agreement they've come to with a legion of Archons, who they supply weapons to in exchange for various blessings, mostly related to the harvest and fertility. It is not an uncommon sight to see Archons in the nation's military in an advisory capacity even in relative peacetime, and between 80 and 200 of them arrive for every crusade.
When it comes to the politics of the Crusades, many of the other coalition members are deeply skeptical of the Theocracy, as they have the most to gain from war. The fact that the 8th Crusade was called by the Theocracy's Oracles, immediately corroborated by their extraplanar trade partners, and then forced through on the back of economic pressure has earned them little good will. Though their dire warnings of a force that could breach the pass were eventually confirmed by the forward scouts, the common belief elsewhere is that the Theocracy is primarily motivated by money these days. A more nuanced understanding would take into account the fact that the Theocracy is the only nation that can boast having beaten The Crown of Eyes at their height in a protracted land war, and as such has a more rosy view of crusading on the whole. While all the other survivors were protected by geography, the Theocracy was protected by stone and steel, and were the first to take the fight to the enemy and succeed.
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The Dawn Star Protectorate is something of an exception. Draconic Protectorates are by their very nature insulated from some of the uncertainty lesser nations face. Originating as a single coastal fortress housing a garrison under the watchful eye of a Silver Dragon, the Protectorate has expanded to include most of the farmland available to the coalition on the continent.
Known for the bizarre and strict legal code, residents that get past that are able to enjoy the best quality of life on the continent. Between the stability of food access, the many institutions of arcane learning, and the intense commitment to public works, the Protectorate is a fine place to live. They are the only nation to attract overseas visitors, with scholars being sent on a one-way trip to study there, communicating back home via expensive scrying magics. Others come to retire, paying a steep fee at entry to enjoy the benefits of residency.
The Protectorate is in an equally odd place when it comes to the Crusades. As a nation with a primarily defensive military posture, they view them as something of an external concern. Their position on the Eastern coast, defending the only traversable water route into coalition waters, gives them an easy excuse internationally. The internal factions which are more aggressive are routinely cut off from funding and political power, and as a result the various chivalric orders representing the Protectorate in the 8th Crusade are all from minority political factions, trained armed and funded by the Theocracy.
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The Archipelago is not really a nation. It isn't officially or unofficially unified, and its internal politics are complex to the point of absurdity. The fishing villages which initially covered the islands south of the Theocracy were inundated by a swarm of refugees and exiles during the dark days. The culture that has emerged in the time since has its own share of peculiarities.
For starters, the Archipelago has a strong isolationist bent. There is a culture of fanatic self-sufficiency, with many islands only having relations with the islands immediately next to them. There are also tensions from the islands tendency to draw all sorts. Escapees from The Crown of Eyes, wanted wizards looking to escape a government across the sea, lowlifes malcontents and wanabee pirates. The Archipelago attracts all sorts. If you're persistent enough, nearly anything can be bought here.
The proverb "A captain cannot sail alone" encompasses the predominant view of morality on the islands. So long as you have a community you belong to which will hold you accountable to a mutually agreed upon code of conduct, most people would not care what the particulars of that conduct are. If they have a problem with it, they'll ask an authority in their community to mediate with one from yours. It's tolerant, but also insular.
Paradoxically, the Archipelago is the staunchest supporter of the Crusades. The experience of being trapped with nowhere to go, a constantly increasing stream of refugees they struggled to feed, watching helplessly as The Crown nearly ate the entire world... it left something of a strong impression. There is an understanding that despite living the furthest from the frontlines, they truly have nowhere else to go. They choose, individually and en-masse, to fight the enemy. A conservative estimate would be that 70% of fighting age persons signed up with the 8th Crusade, at least from islands whose isolationist policies did not include travel restrictions.
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The Edenlark Clans, of the Edenlark Forest in the west, were perhaps the least effected by the war from the beginning. The untamed wildness of the aforementioned forest meant they were never a serious military target, and the vicious tides and rocky terrain makes their coast impassible to ship-traffic. As such, the many factions within the forest are primarily concerned with internal matters. The elves, the halflings (emancipated abroad and brought through an arduous set of interplanar passageways like the worlds most dangerous underground railroad), the Druids, the old-world cultists, the three different factions of the Fey, the various profiteering factions, and the three major cities of Oldwood, Midwood, and Kent give eachother more than enough tension to focus on.
The economic security of having exclusive access to the most magical site on the continent and all of its natural resources gives the nation the finances to buy what it cannot produce itself. Their contribution to the 8th Crusade is primarily in materials and healing potions, though many of the hunters, trackers, and duelists who make their home in the forest have joined up with the Crusade on their own.
Campaign Traits:
The Hearth Protects (Campaign):
(Pre-requisites: Worship Torag, lived in the Theocracy)
You are a devout follower of Torag. You have grown up in the shelter of the Hearths which have stayed lit through the greatest calamities of the age. Their light protects you, even now.
You receive a +4 trait bonus on saves against death effects. Knowledge (religion) is a class skill for you.
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State Indoctrination Education (Campaign):
(Pre-requisites: lived in The Dawn Star Protectorate)
Though you probably don’t think too much of it, your Draconic overlord ensured that you received an education fit for royalty.
Choose two knowledge skills. You are proficient with them and with spellcraft. You gain a +1 trait bonus with one of the knowledge skills (your choice). If you are already proficient with spellcraft, you gain a +2 trait bonus on spellcraft checks.
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Blessed by the Fey (Campaign):
(Pre-requisite: Lived in the Edenlark Forest):
You met the Fey once, you think. Or was it a dream? Either way, they seemed to be pleased with you, and await your future with great interest.
You may cast mage hand and detect magic, each once per day as a spell like ability. Treat your total character level as your caster level.
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Tales from the sea (Campaign):
(Pre-requisite: Lived on the Archipelago)
You spent your time down by the docks, listening to the old fishermen tell their tales. One of them gave you something to remember them by.
You begin play with a permanent magical item costing no more than 250 gold. It is an intelligent item with an int of 2, a charisma of 1, and a wisdom of 14. It's alignment is neutral. Its special purpose is to protect you, it can communicate empathetically, and as far as you know it has no other powers. It gets agitated when left out of water for too long.
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Mediator (Campaign)
(Pre-requisite: Lived in the Archipelago)
You were called upon by your community to speak on their behalf when mediating disputes. Perhaps you have a calming disposition. Perhaps they hoped you’d embarrass yourself or be killed. Either way, you survived the experience.
You gain a +2 trait bonus on sense motive checks, and sense motive is a class skill for you. Once per week you may cast Sanctuary, treating your total character level as your caster level and using your Wisdom score to determine the save DC.
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Friends in high places (Campaign):
(Pre-requisites: Lived in the Theocracy, Dwarf or Gnome, worship Torag)
You are connected to the highest levels of the clergy. By blood or happenstance, it matters little. Your favor may be courted by enterprising souls.
You begin the campaign with an additional 500 gold worth of funding. In addition, you know the supply sergeant’s name, and begin on friendly terms with them. Once per month, you can ask for insight from the heavens, making a knowledge roll with a +10 bonus. Since this knowledge is not your own, you can use this feature to re-roll a previously failed knowledge check.
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Druidic champion (Campaign):
(Pre-requisites: Alignment within one step of neutral, lived in the Edenlark forest, at least one rank in survival)
A secretive order of Druids bent on protecting the natural world from the tyranny of The Crown of Eyes has inducted you into their ranks. Since their very existence threatens the relative isolation of the forest, you will find many doors are closed to you.
You begin play with a set of masterwork ironwood full-plate, which you will find particularly easy to enchant. You gain druidic as a bonus language. You are caught in the middle of the deadly political ambitions of some of the forest’s most repugnant members.
Character Creation Rules / Allowed Content & Optional Rules:
Starting level of 3.
Your leftover gold should be marked as formal credit (see the formal and informal economy section below)
The only evil alignment allowed is Lawful Evil, and if you choose this you will be subject to a higher standard of scrutiny than other characters in terms of selection.
We will be using the 3rd edition of Elephant in the Room, background skills, and 25 point buy.
Two traits, and a bonus campaign trait (the list will be posted when recruitment opens).
No 3pp beyond that, though the guided weapon quality (+1 that allows you to use wis for hit/damage) is allowed. No races above 20 RP.
Additionally, everyone starts with two 'Spine of the 8th Crusade' which are masterwork daggers that have 1 charge which replenish when you resupply. By using the charge when you hit, you can remove debuffs on allies or remove buffs on enemies. Is your buddy poisoned, cursed, enchanted or possessed? Stab them.
Crafting during character creation is permitted, taking 10 for the roll. If you succeed that is 1/3 price on mundane items, and 1/2 price on magical items. Potions of cure light wounds, cure moderate wounds, and enlarge person can be purchased at 3/5 price.
Firearms are emerging, though you are warned that the noise may be a particularly thorny problem in this campaign.
Include in your application where your character was transferred from (see the section on the 8th Crusade for details on the various attachments). Was it a voluntary transfer?
Finally, consider that “Spine of the 8th Crusade” is a pretentious and political sounding name for a tool used by grunts. I’d love it if you lot figure out a name that might be used for them by the rank and file by the time recruitment closes.
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Magic item crafting can be done in the way described in the core rulebook, but for crafting on the field there is a much faster option, which involves convincing elementals, spirits, or other conceptual beings to merge with or bless your equipment. This will be handled through RP and skill checks, and rewards a party that has a wide skillset and an open mind. Such beings are capricious and usually only care about a small number of specific and bizarre things.
Designing your own spells as you progress in power is highly encouraged. It’s a facet of pathfinder’s system that I feel is often underappreciated. Its especially nice if you tie it in well with what your character is going through.
Infernal is the language of contracts, designed for exact specificity. It is also an insidious, corrupting force. The powers that be consider it a net benefit, as little solace as that may be to you. Characters who learn the language gain a wide variety of circumstantial bonuses and penalties.
Opening Scene:
The horn sounds at dawn, and a grim attitude takes hold of the encampment. The call has come from Center Command to send reinforcements. Some of you volunteered, some of you were selected.
None of you need a visitor to your tent to know where you are supposed to muster.
In that cleared circle near the northern gate of the encampment, you find Captain Selene Oakbough and over a hundred other doomed souls. The half-elf captain is something of a cult figure in this camp, famously drunk and wary, having sniffed out many ambushes through paranoia and skill. Like always, she’s dressed in the parade armor of a cavalry officer, though no horse is in sight.
“Listen up you nimwits!” She barks out at the soldiers assembled. “The powers that be want us to walk before we die. We have 10 hours of daylight. If we waste it, we’re all dying early.”
She takes a look at the group as though assessing them.
“Alright, what are you waiting for! Form up! Raise the gate! Thank you gate! Aaaaand march!”
The group passes the wagon of the dead they are replacing on the road. The harsh sun of late spring shines clearly on their backs.
There is a single stop. Barely half an hour. The captain seems nervous about something.
You arrive, the column brutally exhausted, just as the skies start to turn orange.
The gatekeeper asks the Captain if she lost anyone on the journey.
“Not yet.” She replies with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
The commander is busy, so one of his scribes has all hundred some line up for assignment. The man is an older ratfolk, stooped over with age, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes framing a kind, grandfatherly face. A dwarf in plate but with no indicator of rank walks down, making low comments to the scribe as he does.
Slowly the soldiers are sent off to get acquainted with their new position, until just over a dozen remain. The scribe, who you now know as Andy, is quick to divide you into three groups.
“I will not mince words.” he says. “You have all been determined notable for one reason or another. Were this any other war, your lives would be spent cautiously.”
He cuts off, staring blankly into empty space for a few seconds before shaking his head as if to clear whatever it was that overtook him.
“We do not have that luxury. If we fail, a quarter of a million soldiers rise as undead and spearhead the largest invasion of the heartlands in our history.”
He looks slowly over the assembled group, taking his time to meet everyone’s eyes. “Most of you will die. Some of you will not. Pray, to whatever gods favor you, that it will be enough. You report to scouting dispatch in the morning, E6.”
“You will want to be rested. Dismissed.”
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Some notes about camp setup: the whole setup is standardized, so E6 is actually an area designation for where you are going to be reporting. Your quarters, or well your areas to set up your tents, is with the the lowest rung of the scouts, some of the closest living spaces to the walls.
The camp is unusually large, as it was originally built during the advance several years ago, and expanded since. The walls are a curious mixture of ooze, stone, and holy water, and some soldiers swear they're alive as you and me.
The Formal and Informal Economy:
The Pickford Doctrine is the core tenet of every Crusading army. It can be summarized as “most will die, but the ones that don’t will be worth it” and it is the principal advantage that non-tyrannical governments have in warfare.
The coalition armies have professional soldiery shoulder to shoulder with irregulars and volunteers. The system invented to keep all of them supplied and paid is as follows:
Formal credit is issued to every soldier at regular intervals (typically monthly, with additional after heavy combat). This allowance is designed to give you a chance to survive, and to reward those who do. This allowance can be used to make resupply purchases. Professional soldiery generally has a set of gear it has first priority to in order to preserve its ability to sustain its tactics. A particular style of shield and javelin, for example. Formal credit allows the purchase of most basic military equipment, and many magical items which were massed produced, such as scrolls and healing potions.
One of the interesting facets of the system is that it provides one of the best metrics for assessment of the strength of a given force, based on various breakdowns of the payouts. The goal is always to create a core of competence that has survived many difficult battles, and this is one of the easiest ways they have to measure that.
As members start to run a surplus, the system has two inbuilt release valves. The first is that this credit can be bartered away, or the items it procures can be, depending on circumstance. As formal credit is the most useful to the professional soldiery, this creates a familiarity between the two groups, even if it doesn’t always lead to a cordial relationship. The second release valve is that if combat preparedness isn’t going to be increased by the gear available, you can pay into the supply sgt’s requisitions fund, which is used to subsidize the lowest paygrades. Contributions to this fund contribute to your pay when your service ends at a very high rate of 400%. This fund is also used as a metric, an indicator that the Command has reached critical mass where basic gearing needs are being comfortably met and that increased investment in the Command would be prudent.
The informal economy is substantially more flexible. Have services you can provide? Items you can procure? That dirt poor recruit might consider it a wise investment to pay some of their first formal credit to a seasoned adventurer in exchange for invaluable survival advice. Scented candles might be extremely hard to come by, an opportunity for an enterprising alchemist. A captain might arrange for a priest of the proper religion to say a few words, or perform the correct burial rite. It is usually more advantageous to not receive formal credit for these services. The relationships, favors, and goodwill a shrewd negotiator can accrue have a tendency to prove more valuable.
These Crusading armies are a vast machine, designed with a shrewd and callous eye over hundreds of years to cultivate legends. Opportunity abounds. Will you find it?
The Crown of Eyes forces:
In all conflict, the Crown seeks victory through attrition. Time, hunger, exhaustion, despair... in the hands of the enemy these are all formidable tools. From this perspective all military decisions of our foe can be understood to a basic degree.
It should also be noted that the sentient swarm itself does not take to the field. The 2nd Crusade, though slaughtered to a man, famously took a piece of the monster’s soul with them.
Each of its constituent forces has a specialty, though none are so one-dimensional they are unable to function in another context.
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The primary strength of the undead is their inability to tire. They are deployed in three main roles within the Crown’s forces.
As skirmishing cavalry, they serve as the looming threat if any force should rout. While they lack horses in the literal sense, their necromancers have long since perfected the art of stitching bones together into an optimal configuration for taking advantage of necromantic locomotion. The quality of these skeletal mounts will often vary: some sturdier, some faster, some able to climb or burrow or swim. Fleeing soldiers will find no remorse or restraint. Patient, disciplined, and methodical, they are a genuine menace to face in any terrain. This kind of force has come a long way from the undead slingers of the 1st and 2nd crusade era, now fielding spears and specialized long-distance crossbows which are maintained by a trailing support unit.
The undead also serve as the reserve officer corps, embedded into every unit of the military, ready to assume command if needed. When they have to take charge, they tend to be a bit rigid in following the current doctrine, but the real benefit of this arrangement is the competence they showcase in executing the plans of someone more flexible. While nearly all undead capable of sentience are utilized in this role to some extent, much like the cavalry the skeleton is by far the most prevalent.
Their final use is as pack-mules, securing the logistics of resupply for forces which require it.
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Vermin and kobolds must be discussed together, as vermin are only deployed with the kobolds to guide them. Centuries of experimentation have allowed the kobolds of the Crown to to fight right alongside their mindless allies without any fear of friendly fire. It should also be noted that kobolds are the vast majority of sentient life within the Crown of Eyes.
The primary force contesting the skies are the wasp-riders. These are some of the best trained and equipped kobolds in the armies. Highly specialized, they use either a lance or a shortbow. The giant wasps they ride give them an extreme advantage in aerial speed, though the mounts tend to be quite fragile. Because of this, their tactics tend to favor quick, decisive strikes before retreating to regroup and pick up remounts. Pursuing them is usually a mistake, as they take losses extremely personally, and regularly come to eachothers aid even against higher orders. They have greater control of the skies at night, and limited control during the day.
The main infantry force of the Crown’s military are commonly referred to as the swarming spears. As a somewhat irregular force, the bulk are lightly armored kobolds with spears and shields. The armored ones are the ones you have to watch for. Many are skeletons, using the armor to hide the swarms they bring with them to the front lines. Others still are kobold champions mixed in with the ranks, often deadly when underestimated. Sometimes the armored ones are just an illusion, pulling the countermeasures to the wrong part of the line. The mages hide within the mass of spearmen, nearly indistinguishable while the swarms and armored threats to pull eyes elsewhere. If you have the misfortune of fighting them, expect trickery and a brutally chaotic melee. When deployed with giant vermin, it tends to be the burrowing kind, who will be guided to ambush a force already committed from a new angle.
The true strength of the Crown of Eyes has always been the strength of its magical contingents, which are mostly kobolds, though ifrits and humans do pop up from time to time. Part of the reason the 8th Crusade is getting beaten so soundly is that the increased population and usage of trolls allows for a new environment the mages can strike from on the battlefield. Basic doctrine relies heavily on illusions for both deception and communication. Once they get past the basics, individuality shines through. Summons are a common specialty, with swarms or daemons being the usual choices. Necromancers can be particularly difficult to handle, as they frequently tag along with doomed regiments to harvest the souls of the dead to increase their personal power.
The kobolds are also the core of the logistics and siege warfare units. Their prowess in defensive warfare is eclipsed only by the Theocracy itself. There’s a reason that the heavy hitters were given nearly a year to soften up the strongholds before the main army started marching past the passes. They’ve also seen deployment alongside trolls, firing their ballistae from within the shield walls to devastating effect.
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The trolls are a new threat, and play a prominent role in both the 8th Crusade being called as well as its subsequent retreat. While they had shown up previously, for unknown reasons their population has boomed, allowing them to be deployed en-masse. Heavy infantry with an insane pain tolerance, a brutally rigid hierarchical worldview, and the ability to recover from nearly any injury. The crown jewel of these regiments is The Sundial, named as such for the 12-beat cadence they call out as they march. The Sundial makes use of an artifact which emits a massive antimagic field, which combined with their preparations and harsh training makes it nearly impossible to handle their regeneration. Since The Sundial was activated, the 8th Crusade has been in a steady retreat. So far the only thing approaching a victory against them involved the Seabound Seven re-routing a river into their path.
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The final component of the Crown’s forces is by far the least predictable: the monsters.
It is unclear if the Daemons have been called, or if they’re a natural occurrence in the face of the overwhelming despair and terror caused within the Crown’s borders. Regardless, they feature regularly both as hero-hunters and as high-ranking officers. Every army has at least a few dozen cacodaemons taking souls on the battlefield.
The closest thing to dragons that are fielded are undead monstrosities that were once kobolds before a vile ritual awakened their latent draconic potential. The ritual unfortunately has a 0% survival rate, which works out surprisingly well for a necromancer.
The most feared of the lot though is the Touch of Despair. The undead, non-corporeal entity specializes in long-range possession, which it uses to deadly effect to fight on a dozen fronts at once through the limbs of its subordinates. When doing so, it fights with a spear, which it uses to apply curses to its foes. Its ‘standard’ approach involves a curse which induces the despair that has given it its name. They are particularly dangerous when able to isolate their quarry.
Many odd sorts find their way into the Crown's military. For a detailed report, you might have to convince someone who would have access to those documents.
The Road to Retreat:
The 8th Crusade did not begin as a disaster. While the general consensus before it was called would have had the Crusade beginning nearly a dozen years in the future, there was no member of the coalition caught unprepared for mobilization.
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The first phase of the Crusade was conducted by three small groups of powerful individuals while the armies were still being assembled and moved. Their aim was to establish beachheads by aerial assault in the valley on the far side of the pass. Additionally, they were to hunt enemy mages at every opportunity, hopefully crippling the ability of the enemy to employ rapid-reinforcement tactics when the main army arrived
The most important of these groups, particularly in the context of this operation, are the Seabound Seven. Halflings who cut their teeth freeing slaves using the extremely trecherous interplanar pathways, their lack of raw power is more than made up for by an abundance of caution, discipline, and creativity. While exact figures are disputed, its estimated that in the 8 months they were operating in the valley, they were responsible for a fifth of the total mages in the Crown’s service meeting their end. They took the initiative to strike deep into Crown territory from the footholds they established in the valley, to great success. Sabotage, intelligence gathering, assassinations, they did it all.
The problem came with the Silver Thorns, an order of Paladins funded by the Theocracy but known for recruiting heavily from those looking to leave the Edenlark Forest. The exact details are still shrouded in secrecy, but most people know enough of what happened to get the picture. At least one member was either captured or pinned down, luring in the others. When the dust cleared, all 18 members were dead, undead, or mind-controlled.
Old Albert and his entourage arrived in the aftermath, and while they were able to consolidate our position in the valley, the old wizard turned his focus to preparations for the coming push rather than take another risk on the back of such a disaster. The one truly important member of his entourage would be Chaplain Phillips, an oread who rose to the highest political office allowed to be held by someone not a gnome or dwarf in the Theocracy: the national champion. During times of peace, his responsibility is to accept challenges on the state’s behalf, and during times of war he would vanguard their forces. In a one on one duel environment, there is none finer in the entire continent. Pairing him up with Old Albert, who survived the 5th, 6th, and 7th Crusades was a natural choice.
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The aftermath of the first phase was twofold: The complete loss of the Thorns was a major blow to morale, and the scouting reports spoke of civilized trolls integrated into the Crown’s army. For the first time, the nation whose most populous sentient race has been kobolds for nearly a thousand years would be fielding heavy infantry.
The Crown now had a way to take territory that wasn’t reliant on spellcasters. Combined with its many ways to hold territory, the prognosis was bleak, and the solution was clear. The assembled coalition would have to break this army before it started gaining momentum and figuring out how to apply the force that it has.
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The push into the valley, the second main phase of the war, took more than a year. Harassed at every turn by the wasp-riders and their persistent night raids, establishing a secure path through became increasingly difficult.
The first major victory came at Oxfort Hill, where the Crusades not only beat back a full army of swarming spears, they suffered the lowest casualties of any recorded force against such a foe. The Spine of the 8th really proved itself that day in conjunction with the revised triage doctrine, turning a fight with an enemy infamous for its use of disease into a resounding victory, full-stop.
It should be noted that the 8 minor pathways through the mountains also saw extensive fighting through the entire duration of the Crusade, trading hands multiple times and occasionally spewing raiders into the heartlands of the coalition.
Following Oxfort Hill, the push forward went suspiciously smoothly for 2 months. The problem, only seen through hindsight, was that as soon as the Crown determined the main objectives the Crusade was effectively over. Knowing that the establishment of a series of fortifications around the headwaters of the Jia-Nogu River would mean the end of the ability of the Crown to arm itself, the ensuing countermeasures were swift and absolute.
Instead of giving ground and picking at the flanks, the Crown started taking a stand for every blade of grass. Everything slowed down, and the increased scouting presence was not noticed by the Crusade until it was far too late.
The Massacre of Oldspire, or the Shame of Oldspire depending on who you’re talking to, was the moment the jaws of the trap snapped closed. The Griffin Knights, the pride of the aerial force of the crusades, had been steadily maneuvered into a single decisive battle with their opposites, the wasp-riders. When the cloud of death rolled in, and all 30,000 Griffins died instantly, their insides turning into acid as a result of a two-part alchemical mixture, the first part having been seeded in the local wildlife. Worse still, most of the elite Kobold forces had been moved to circle the landing spot, disguised as regular scouting regiments. Less than a thousand soldiers survived, most of them squires stationed further away from the main force, avoiding the fate of being herded into an uncontested field of aerial bombardment.
A hasty attempt to cobble together a functional defense of the skies followed, and the advance stalled. But over months, the slow weight of the massively reduced attrition this new Crusade boasted carried them further forward, determined to make it to the headwaters. The advance was brutal, but to turn back now would be madness, not when they were this close.
The brilliance of the enemy’s plan was that they let the Crusade do exactly that. They let them take the headwaters, dig trenches and build their fortresses.
Then they took them back. In the dead of night, a contingent of Trolls walked over the walls, aided by a massive ritual allowing them to walk on air. The anti-air defenses were formidable, but not enough to crack the shell of their formation. If it weren’t for Brother Phillip, the failure that night could have doomed every single soul of the Crusade. Instead, a ragtag group of former thieves and supply officers survived for 3 months inside the captured fortress, committing all manner of hostile operations. Hiding in the walls, they made brilliant use of enchantments and illusions to stir up hostility within the army reinforcing the trolls. And to cap it all off, they stole back the 3rd army’s fallen standard and broke out of the encircling forces to return it to the now-retreating Crusade.
In the meantime, The Sundial had arrived, and should the retreat be delayed just that slightest amount, The Sundial will personally seal the 8th Crusade’s fate.
The heroism of Brother Phillip, holding the vanguard of the pursing forces to a standstill for three long months with less than 40 men, is at this moment the enduring legend of the century. The reason the Crusades can retreat instead of rout, the reason there’s a sliver of hope to salvage anything at all from this absolute failure of a Crusade.
The 8th Crusade was formed with the intention of holding a dominant position at the headwaters, which it would use to crush the trolls long before they reached our own borders. It was supposed to be the first major expansion of territory by the coalition since the 4th Crusade ousted the enemy past the mountains. It was supposed to leave a string of impregnable fortresses manned by canny veterans to deter any hostility for the next hundred years.
The 8th Crusade is retreating. Please, I beg of you, save it.
