New Order: Difference between revisions

Kastore came to power in Burton. Halflings were declared traitors, so their last hope is to return to Eeofol. Acquire the resources for the voyage home and reach airship shipyard to win the scenario. Your heroes are limited to the level 36, but they will bring the Admiral’s Hat to the next scenario.

Victory condition:

Defeat Hero or Defeat All Enemies

Loss condition:

Lose All Your Towns and Heroes

Allies:

Enemies: 1:

Choose a bonus:

4

3

Carried to next scenario:

Max level:

36

Prologue

Kastore: A vain man counts his riches in gold pieces. A practical one, in hands ready to do his bidding. A truly powerful one, in minds working to bring his plans to life. I now own a whole country of such minds. Maybe it’s not a huge one, but all of it is mine. Each one of my subjects dreams of acquiring even a tiny bit of wonders from the Tomb for research. It may appear to an onlooker as though I readily make these wonders available, but in fact, I only share the things that are going to serve my interests right now. My only reward for hard work is the permission to cover some more of my needs, yet everyone involved comes out satisfied. Isn’t that the pinnacle of man management?

Scenario

Timed events

Day	Title	Message
Day 1	AI - minus resources	(Repeats every 1 days) Note: Only applies to AI players. -90000 Gold, -500 Wood, -500 Ore, -500 Mercury, -500 Sulfur, -500 Crystal, -500 Gems
Day 1	Return to Jadame - Part I	Henrietta: All the way back to Jadame, I was looking forward to just one thing. As soon as I got ashore, I would share the glad tidings with every halfling. Tavin is alive! And that means others are alive too—someone's family, brothers, friends. We will immediately start preparing a rescue party, and my new experience will help it go much better than my previous one. Years of hard work have paid off: our new airships are faster and more capacious. Now we'll recruit an army of warriors, their hearts burning with justice, and load up the mighty dreadnoughts. We'll return to Eeofol and pounce at the enemy; as they are handcuffed by their war with the heroes of Erathia, we can strike where no one expects us. We'll rescue everyone, bring them here, show them how well we’ve done for ourselves! I couldn’t help sharing every detail of my future plans with Wynona. Even though she supported me fervently, I think I kind of wore her out with my blabbering.
Day 1	Return to Jadame - Part II	Henrietta: At length, the long-awaited day came: our ship dropped anchor at a little wharf. Cages with exotic animals and boxes full of Couatl eggs were unloaded. Neither I nor the other expedition participants could hide our joy. After months of wandering through the wet, muddy jungle, this land felt even more precious to us than before, however scorched by the sun and dull in appearance.
Day 3	Morton and Fort Rotwang	Henrietta: We proceeded cautiously inland, avoiding the big roads and the open countryside. Our ears became our eyes; when you're being hunted, the more eyes the better. I grinned bitterly; I would have loved to grow a few more pairs, should Agar have been available. As I passed by a ravine, I heard a barely perceptible noise; a sniffle or snore. I gestured to Wynona, urging her to slow down. The elf's ears twitched, and a second later she was pointing in the direction the sound had come from. Silently, like a proper scout, I crept toward the ravine at the indicated spot. What I saw was a sad sight: a few haggard, wounded halflings, hiding under some dirty, tattered rags. I couldn't see their faces, but their bare heels, covered with sparse gray hairs, made my heart beat faster. “Kosta, you old rascal! Get up! Your ponies gobbled up all Melanie's carrots again!” Kosta jumped up and stared at me in fear. Tears sprang from the old carter’s eyes and a cry of horror escaped his chest, but as soon as his purblind eyes recognized my face, he began wailing even louder, this time out of with happiness. Kosta: “Henrietta, that you? I've had it. So it turns out they found me, and I'm in heaven now.” Henrietta: “What are you on about, Kosta? It's me; I'm alive. And you're alive! What happened to you?” Kosta: “Morton. That damn goblin! So many buds of mine got popped off by his devilish machinery! We barely made it out of Rotwang.” Henrietta: “Wait. Morton? He betrayed us, too?” Kosta: “Yeah, lass, him too. Small wonder, you know—for the green-skinned scum he is. When the people started coming from the north with bitter tidings, we began preparing for a tussle. We even pulled a bit of a ruse; got Morton ambushed and broke a dozen of his shooty thangs, but the toad-faced freak still got entrenched in the suburbs. Just a handful of us militiamen made it out alive, so here we are. There was no way to get back into town, and we went looking for help.” Henrietta: “Don't be scared, old sport. You found it!” “So Rotwang is either under siege or has already fallen. Even if it is the latter, the town must have suffered some big damage, so it’ll take Morton a while to rebuild its defenses,” I thought as I considered our options.
Day 3	Kastore comes to power	Henrietta: Once safe under our protection, Kosta came to quickly. Sure, he didn’t get any younger, but he was no longer the pitiful, half-dead, horrified and exhausted poor thing we had found hiding in a hole like a rabbit. He told me in detail what had happened over the last few months. I had never liked Kastore; I sensed something in him that made it hard to believe that his desire to help Burton prosper for the benefit of all the people of Terra Nova was sincere, as he never missed a chance to declare from the podium. Turns out, I wasn’t wrong. The man who came from beyond the sea grabbed hold of everything he could get his hands on. He kept demanding that more ore be mined and purchased and that more machinery be built; no one understood why. The halflings' shifts became longer and working conditions worse. Many turned to Frederick then, as they had done before, when he was head of the supervisory board for the Associated Burton Works, but the guards didn’t let them see him. No one had seen the inventor for weeks. After Kastore’s arrival, Frederick had started disappearing for long periods of time, apparently conducting research in laboratories hidden from the prying eyes, and now it was as though he had vanished for good—it seemed that no one knew where he was, except for the warlock. When the first disgruntled workers went on strike and stopped the steam hammers, demanding a renegotiation of the collective bargaining agreement, Kastore let his mercenaries in wide-brimmed hats and long cloaks at them, brutally suppressing the protest. Kosta: “Those fellers weren't ours—frig knows where the blasted sorcerer pulled them bastards outta," Kosta said. Henrietta: However, Kastore's reaction only gave the halflings more fuel; they had long learned to fight back when someone tried to take away what they had come to regard as their own. Soon most of the factories were halted, many of the machines broken, and my brethren began setting up militias. They’d catch the mercenaries and beat the hell out of them wherever they could, and painted the walls with graffities calling to throw the uninvited guest from Deyja off the throne he had made for himself, without regard for the opinion of those who never wanted any kings or sovereigns in Burton or the other free cities. Then Kastore outlawed every last halfling; some got shackled to their machines, others thrown into the dungeons. Those whom his bandits could not lay their hands on were hunted down. I, as the leader of the rebelling people, was charged with instigating sabotage and organizing riots.
Day 4	Murdoch	Henrietta: We had gotten a foothold in Larimar, but it was not worth it to stay here for long. This small, poor town was not a good base camp for us, and the locals were outright frightened of us. Of course, it would be silly to get angry at them for that: the draconian laws penned by Kastore and the punishments promised by the usurper were to blame for it. The penalty codex counted for nearly half of the weighty tome, Leges Terrae Novae, published by the Burton printing house just a month ago. To think that not a year had passed since we had faced adversity side by side with these men and labored for our common future! And now our roads have parted and will diverge further and further with each passing day. Ample proof of that was my encounter with a local boy, too young to remember our struggles against the pirates or Zog. The kid sprang out from behind the bushes with a loud shriek, probably meant to be a battle cry. I almost laughed—it sounded so hilarious in his birdish voice. Not at all embarrassed by not having made the desired impression on me, the boy pointed at me with the stick that his imagination had made into a gun: Kid: “Die, you traitorous midget! Bang, bang, bang! I'm Murdoch, the best marksman in the Ravage Roaming! I can hit an enemy’s heart square from a mile away! Fear me!” Henrietta: I used to laugh and play along with the children as they posed as ogres, goblins, and other monsters in their games, but this was different. The child's antics struck me unpleasantly. I gave in to outrage, snatched the stick from the little bully’s hands, snapped it over my knee, threw it into the bushes, and gave him a good slap up his head. The boy was no chicken; he didn’t burst into tears, but rather spat at me and ran away, looking back and shouting: Kid: “Yeah, you'll regret this too! Murdoch is close by, and he knows you're here! You'll see! He'll shoot you all like the prairie dogs you are, and we'll—and we'll stop being afraid, and everything will be as it was before!”
Day 5	Moonchild	Henrietta: I was sitting alone by the fire, deep in my thought, when Kosta came up to me, holding out a flask of Triple Cactus Swill, a teeth-grindingly potent brew of his own distillation, of which he was incredibly proud. I never was one for ceremonies; I took a couple of swigs, and then we just sat there in silence. I remembered how way back in the day, in the winter evenings, when I was still very small, I’d sit by the fireplace in old Haye’s cabin, and my foster grandfather, usually picky and shouty, would braid the hair over my right ear with his stiff fingers. “Listen, Kosta... What's a Moonchild? Ever heard anyone called that?” Kosta: “It is known, lass... When a young girl brings…” The old carter suddenly shuddered, as if he remembered something very important, and almost shouted: “No, no, don't know about no child, don't want to know, never seen, never been near, damn me to where the horned ones drag their buds out of!” Henrietta: The old man dropped the flask, jumped up and walked away, slapping his heels on the sand. I sat staring into the flames. A thin figure emerged from the darkness. Wynona stood on the other side of the bonfire, her head raised to the sky. Wynona: “We have a song... You don't know our language, but I'll try to translate it for you.” Call her Moonchild Dancing in the shallows of a river. Lonely Moonchild Dreaming in the shadow of a willow. Talking to the trees of the cobweb strange, Sleeping on the steps of a fountain, Waving silver wand to the night-birds song, Waiting for the sun on the mountain. Henrietta: “That’s beautiful... But why was he so scared? Couldn’t have been because of an elven song. There must be something else... I wish I knew the answer, but I don’t want any more poor old men to die or run away in terror. Gods, I never begged you for the secrets of my past. I like the present just fine; I’m alive, strong, and able to decide for myself what I want and where I go... Why now?”
Day 8	Mission Objectives	Henrietta: Outlawed, my people left their homes and workshops in a hurry. The factories were now staffed by obsequious green-skinned goblins—their numbers were great, and they would do anything to escape their abject poverty. Amazingly, a bunk in a worker's barracks and a bowl of sticky cattail root gruel, the cheapest food imaginable, meant enviable prosperity for them. They had no idea of occupational health and safety, and workplace accidents never shook their eagerness to work. They were clumsy and slow at learning, but the new factory supervisors, appointed by Kastore, could easily swap a worker at the machine every day; sooner or later one was bound to turn out at least somewhat teachable. All that meant Kastore no longer had the slightest need for the halflings. Many were fleeing south, to cities that the usurper's greedy hand had not yet reached. One such last haven of freedom was Fort Rotwang, now besieged by Morton. The militiamen’s sabotage did quite a number on the goblin, and we now had two or three weeks before he would be able to really dig in and get reinforcements. We had to break the siege and reunite with the refugees in the city before then. Upon liberation, Rotwang should become our main base where we’d be preparing for our flight to Eeofol. Of course, a rescue party was now out of the question—once we left Jadame, no one would be waiting for us back here. The stakes were as high as it gets: either we help Erathia vanquish the red-skinned locusts and regain our homeland, or we die trying. Such a fate surely is better than huddling somewhere on the edge of the world as two-time fugitives. One of the halflings in Kosta's team turned out to be an experienced planner from the Associated Works’ central office. With his help, we were able to make the calculations. We would need at least 125 units of sulfur, mercury, and ore for the rearmament and the long flight. I thought about trying to contact Frederick, but no one knew where he was, what had happened to him, or whether he had had a hand in what was happening here in the land we just recently thought of as our own. Thank you, old friend! You saved us, helping us become brave and resourceful. To you I owe the strength that lives within me, that I feel more and more of every day. It’s time to take my life and my people’s fate into my hands. We will go our own way. I hope you are well, wherever you are. I believe we will meet again one day, and you will tell me about your new wonderful discoveries.
Day 10	Lightning Rod Warning	Henrietta: I jumped up on the bed; there was a sensation I thought long lost among the memories of my old life in Eeofol. The hair on my feet bristled... and not only on my feet. As I stepped out of the tent, I saw my comrades, each sporting a dandelion-like hairdo. The air smelled of a thunderstorm… and something else. That odor—where did I know it from? Oh. Of course. My memory opened the floodgates, and sensations poured rushing at me. Sight, hearing, smell, even taste—everything was sharp again, just as it had been in my childhood. A long summer day of my carefree youth: Frederick in his workshop, showing me a shiny iron ball and telling me about lightning, charges, and how he is about to harness lightning and make it turn millstones, illuminate the darkness of caves, and even drive away wild beasts. He clicked something; the room filled with this familiar smell, and the hair on my feet stood up, just like right now. I shuddered. I remembered what had come next. Smiling mysteriously, Frederick invited me to touch the shiny ball. I reached out to feel the pretty little round thing, but there was still a good cubit between my hand and the ball when lightning struck with a loud snap and pain shot through my body. I cried and swore for a good while, while Frederick blurted out apologies, muttering words I didn't understand at the time—something about calibration, calculated power and arc-through energy. Could it be that he had eventually mastered the lightning, but the artificers now think that the wild beasts are… us?
Day 11	Lightning Rod Warning... Again	Henrietta: My worst fears were confirmed. We stumbled upon something I could only describe as an ugly manifestation of a dark experimenter's twisted genius. We wandered into a small rocky valley while on a recon raid. The smell of thunderstorm and burnt flesh, and charred skeletons tied to metal lightning rods—those were the gloomy decorations of the dull wasteland we saw. The sand around the iron structures had turned to glass in some places; some large stones were split, and their exposed surfaces displayed tree-like patterns etched into them by some unknown force. There was a kind of somber, magnetic beauty about them... Here and there, burnt markings with some kind of numbers on them were scattered. It was an execution, a long and painful one; it looked like it lasted all the while the wretches were testing their new weapon. I hoped fervently that the mind behind this atrocious contraption was anyone but Frederick’s. Now we knew: a thunderclap could hit any of us, anytime. We had to remember that and try to find some means of protection.
Day 13	Couatls Scouts	Henrietta: That day, the Ñouatl that Wynona and I had been trying to make into a scout returned to camp. I was not yet convinced that these creatures could be useful anywhere but on the battlefield. Still, the elf insisted that the Couatls were incredibly intelligent. She'd found common ground with these creatures much faster than I'd hoped. Probably thanks to Tlamac’s ritual. I'd almost forgotten the thrill of watching my friend help a small serpent, feathers all shades of red, out of its egg. It was as if it had been generations ago, back when the Couatls reigned over the world and the world was just a few islands... Wynona's bond with her new friends was unusual yet unbreakable. Hugging the tired scout by his big, craggy head, she could see everything that he himself had seen over the past few days. It seemed as though we were not the only targets of the bounty hunters Kastore had sent out. The Couatl saw several gunslingers dragging a shackled man who looked like an alchemist. There was also another prison to the north, guarded by juggernauts, but there was no way of knowing who was languishing there. We were not alone in our struggle against Kastore; at least that felt somewhat encouraging.
Day 17	Abandoned Factory	Henrietta: Wynona progressed by leaps and bounds in mastering the benefits of her friendship with the Couatls. Not so long ago, I was chuckling as she tried to explain the job to her first feathered spy; now we had a whole flock of nimble scouts scouring the clouds and keeping enemy airships from taking off. The Couatls are much smarter than the wyverns; those would mindlessly throw themselves at airships’ propellers out of their habit to go at their prey’s tail, and lost more than a dozen before getting the idea to attack the balloon. Conversely, our winged friends knew the airships’ weak points perfectly well, so now we had decisive air superiority. Moreover, thanks to these amazing creatures, we knew of the traitors’ well-fortified, impregnable fortress and of at least three commanders from Kastore’s growing army who had deployed their troops on the approaches to this bastion. We also knew of the ever-increasing dragon population and of one very intriguing town, abandoned after the undead rose from their graves. There were intact manufactories and foundries in that town, which meant that with the undead laid to rest, we could produce some automatons for our own needs.
Day 29	Enemy Hero Waves - First Warning	Henrietta: Kastore has thrown the full might of his growing army at us. This is not simply an attempt to intimidate the renegades or quell a rebellion. This means a war of attrition, one we are certain to lose. Every day, the furnaces of his forges and factories burn hotter and hotter; the goblins gain experience and work better and better, and he demands more and more from them. Sooner or later, there will be two or even three self-propelled machines or marksmen for each one of us. Every hour of delay today is sure to bring us bitter defeats and losses tomorrow. We cannot fight two wars at once—one in the present, with former friends, and the other in the future, with old enemies. Still, I believe we can gather enough power and take off for Eeofol before Kastore pounces.
Day 85	Final Warning (411)	Henrietta: We cannot wait any longer. We must get the airships ready and leave for Eeofol now, or Kastore will sweep us away like a stormwave washes away a sandcastle on the beach. All we have accomplished here has been such a castle, mistaken for a new home. Our future no longer lies in these barren lands—it lies out there, across the ocean. There is only one place worthy of being called home. We may die in this uphill fight with the demons, but we will fall on our own land.

Objects

Events

Location	Message
6, 69, 0	Map Event Text. Guardians: 11 Pikemen, 1 Griffin, 1 Monk, 3 Seamen, 2 Pirates, 34 Peasants, 4 Nomads

Towns

Location	Type	Name
36, 0, 0	Dungeon	-
20, 9, 0	Factory	Corakstone
52, 5, 0	Stronghold	-
7, 47, 0	Factory	New Dolere
24, 84, 0	Factory	Larimar
66, 47, 0	Factory	Rotwang
87, 97, 0	Factory	Arcadia
97, 25, 0	Factory	Mount Copper

Heroes

Location	Player	Hero
29, 99, 0		Wynona the Mercenary
32, 100, 0		Henrietta the Mercenary
16, 20, 0		Jangaard the Mercenary
28, 71, 0		Wededh the Barbarian
39, 22, 0		Eanswythe the Artificer
48, 95, 0		Murdoch the Mercenary
71, 8, 0		Zarghebar the Barbarian
89, 14, 0		Ilsingore the Overlord
31, 93, 1		Urdeon the Death Knight
79, 92, 1		Xaver the Druid
59, 28, 0		Umender the Artificer
66, 49, 0		Morton the Mercenary
4, 10, 1		Mirlanda the Witch
10, 11, 1		Victoria the Artificer
13, 11, 1		Banbragh the Barbarian
29, 3, 1		Sanya the Cleric
33, 1, 1		Caitlin the Cleric
35, 1, 1		Rion the Cleric
2, 2, 1		Gohh the Barbarian
3, 7, 1		Astral the Wizard
3, 1, 1		Valquest the Mercenary
4, 2, 1		Rumeon the Warlock
6, 2, 1		Wrathmont the Artificer
7, 6, 1		Yargo the Barbarian
9, 2, 1		Terghez the Ranger Note: Hero identity is Giselle.
9, 6, 1		Skrell the Artificer Note: Hero identity is Celestine.
11, 2, 1		Razargal the Warlock
11, 6, 1		Stina the Mercenary
13, 2, 1		Melchior the Mercenary
14, 6, 1		Seneth the Overlord
16, 2, 1		Horoagh the Battle Mage
16, 6, 1		Winzells the Mercenary
18, 2, 1		Phott the Overlord
18, 6, 1		Ziph the Artificer
20, 2, 1		Agar the Artificer
21, 6, 1		Jerhesh the Battle Mage
23, 2, 1		Guerhaugh the Battle Mage
23, 6, 1		Elderian the Artificer
11, 2, 1		Razargal the Warlock
25, 2, 1		Strobus the Warlock
25, 6, 1		ReventyrReventyr Reventyr the Warlock
27, 2, 1		Dury the Mercenary
1, 59, 0		Balindar the Wizard
10, 92, 0		Thulig the Druid
53, 24, 0		Yovilla the Cleric
107, 78, 0		Khevasar the Druid
93, 75, 0		Ilmarin the Alchemist

Monsters

Location	Type	Message
0, 0, 0	Halflings	Monster Text

Seer's Huts

Quest Guards

Quest Gates

Artifacts

Epilogue

Henrietta: The new home we built here; those whom I considered my comrades, if not friends – everything I gained in Jadame is leaking away. It’s just like ground oil; you can’t catch it with your hands. It takes iron pipes, augers, and an artificer’s gift. Likewise, it takes courage and strong will to make the world submit. I spent years forging them, but my blade shattered upon clashing with the work of a better craftsman. Now I must reforge it and quench it in devils’ blood; for the sake of everyone who was with me on my way here and of those who will be by my side as I leave. This foreign land was not meant to become our own, but now we can claim back the one of our birth.

@@ Line 25: / Line 25: @@
 == Scenario ==
 === Timed events ===
-{| class="sortable wikitable" cellpadding=5px
+{{TEheader}}
-| style="background-color:#f2f2f2; text-align:center;" | '''Day 1 - Day 1'''
+{{TErow| 1 | AI - minus resources | freq = 1 | ''Note: Only applies to AI players.''<br>-90000 {{Gold}} [[Gold]], -500 {{Wood}} [[Wood]], -500 {{Ore}} [[Ore]], -500 {{Mercury}} [[Mercury]], -500 {{Sulfur}} [[Sulfur]], -500 {{Crystal}} [[Crystal]], -500 {{Gem}} [[Gems]]</br>}}
-|-
+{{TErow| 1 | Return to Jadame - Part I | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: All the way back to Jadame, I was looking forward to just one thing. As soon as I got ashore, I would share the glad tidings with every halfling. Tavin is alive! And that means others are alive too—someone's family, brothers, friends. We will immediately start preparing a rescue party, and my new experience will help it go much better than my previous one. Years of hard work have paid off: our new airships are faster and more capacious. Now we'll recruit an army of warriors, their hearts burning with justice, and load up the mighty dreadnoughts. We'll return to Eeofol and pounce at the enemy; as they are handcuffed by their war with the heroes of Erathia, we can strike where no one expects us. We'll rescue everyone, bring them here, show them how well we’ve done for ourselves! I couldn’t help sharing every detail of my future plans with Wynona. Even though she supported me fervently, I think I kind of wore her out with my blabbering.}}
-| style="padding-left:7px; padding-right:5px;" | Timed Event Text
+{{TErow| 1 | Return to Jadame - Part II | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: At length, the long-awaited day came: our ship dropped anchor at a little wharf. Cages with exotic animals and boxes full of Couatl eggs were unloaded. Neither I nor the other expedition participants could hide our joy. After months of wandering through the wet, muddy jungle, this land felt even more precious to us than before, however scorched by the sun and dull in appearance.}}
-|-
+{{TErow| 3 | Morton and Fort Rotwang | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: We proceeded cautiously inland, avoiding the big roads and the open countryside. Our ears became our eyes; when you're being hunted, the more eyes the better. I grinned bitterly; I would have loved to grow a few more pairs, should Agar have been available. As I passed by a ravine, I heard a barely perceptible noise; a sniffle or snore. I gestured to Wynona, urging her to slow down. The elf's ears twitched, and a second later she was pointing in the direction the sound had come from. Silently, like a proper scout, I crept toward the ravine at the indicated spot. What I saw was a sad sight: a few haggard, wounded halflings, hiding under some dirty, tattered rags. I couldn't see their faces, but their bare heels, covered with sparse gray hairs, made my heart beat faster.<p>“Kosta, you old rascal! Get up! Your ponies gobbled up all Melanie's carrots again!”<p>Kosta jumped up and stared at me in fear. Tears sprang from the old carter’s eyes and a cry of horror escaped his chest, but as soon as his purblind eyes recognized my face, he began wailing even louder, this time out of with happiness.<p>'''Kosta: '''“Henrietta, that you? I've had it. So it turns out they found me, and I'm in heaven now.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “What are you on about, Kosta? It's me; I'm alive. And you're alive! What happened to you?”<p>'''Kosta: '''“Morton. That damn goblin! So many buds of mine got popped off by his devilish machinery! We barely made it out of Rotwang.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “Wait. Morton? He betrayed us, too?”<p>'''Kosta: '''“Yeah, lass, him too. Small wonder, you know—for the green-skinned scum he is. When the people started coming from the north with bitter tidings, we began preparing for a tussle. We even pulled a bit of a ruse; got Morton ambushed and broke a dozen of his shooty thangs, but the toad-faced freak still got entrenched in the suburbs. Just a handful of us militiamen made it out alive, so here we are. There was no way to get back into town, and we went looking for help.”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “Don't be scared, old sport. You found it!”<p>“So Rotwang is either under siege or has already fallen. Even if it is the latter, the town must have suffered some big damage, so it’ll take Morton a while to rebuild its defenses,” I thought as I considered our options.</p>}}
+{{TErow| 3 | Kastore comes to power | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: Once safe under our protection, Kosta came to quickly. Sure, he didn’t get any younger, but he was no longer the pitiful, half-dead, horrified and exhausted poor thing we had found hiding in a hole like a rabbit. He told me in detail what had happened over the last few months. I had never liked Kastore; I sensed something in him that made it hard to believe that his desire to help Burton prosper for the benefit of all the people of Terra Nova was sincere, as he never missed a chance to declare from the podium. Turns out, I wasn’t wrong. The man who came from beyond the sea grabbed hold of everything he could get his hands on. He kept demanding that more ore be mined and purchased and that more machinery be built; no one understood why. The halflings' shifts became longer and working conditions worse. Many turned to Frederick then, as they had done before, when he was head of the supervisory board for the Associated Burton Works, but the guards didn’t let them see him. No one had seen the inventor for weeks. After Kastore’s arrival, Frederick had started disappearing for long periods of time, apparently conducting research in laboratories hidden from the prying eyes, and now it was as though he had vanished for good—it seemed that no one knew where he was, except for the warlock. When the first disgruntled workers went on strike and stopped the steam hammers, demanding a renegotiation of the collective bargaining agreement, Kastore let his mercenaries in wide-brimmed hats and long cloaks at them, brutally suppressing the protest.<p>'''Kosta: '''“Those fellers weren't ours—frig knows where the blasted sorcerer pulled them bastards outta," Kosta said.<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: However, Kastore's reaction only gave the halflings more fuel; they had long learned to fight back when someone tried to take away what they had come to regard as their own. Soon most of the factories were halted, many of the machines broken, and my brethren began setting up militias. They’d catch the mercenaries and beat the hell out of them wherever they could, and painted the walls with graffities calling to throw the uninvited guest from Deyja off the throne he had made for himself, without regard for the opinion of those who never wanted any kings or sovereigns in Burton or the other free cities. Then Kastore outlawed every last halfling; some got shackled to their machines, others thrown into the dungeons. Those whom his bandits could not lay their hands on were hunted down. I, as the leader of the rebelling people, was charged with instigating sabotage and organizing riots.</p>}}
+{{TErow| 4 | Murdoch | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: We had gotten a foothold in Larimar, but it was not worth it to stay here for long. This small, poor town was not a good base camp for us, and the locals were outright frightened of us. Of course, it would be silly to get angry at them for that: the draconian laws penned by Kastore and the punishments promised by the usurper were to blame for it. The penalty codex counted for nearly half of the weighty tome, Leges Terrae Novae, published by the Burton printing house just a month ago. To think that not a year had passed since we had faced adversity side by side with these men and labored for our common future! And now our roads have parted and will diverge further and further with each passing day. Ample proof of that was my encounter with a local boy, too young to remember our struggles against the pirates or Zog. The kid sprang out from behind the bushes with a loud shriek, probably meant to be a battle cry. I almost laughed—it sounded so hilarious in his birdish voice. Not at all embarrassed by not having made the desired impression on me, the boy pointed at me with the stick that his imagination had made into a gun:<p>'''Kid: '''“Die, you traitorous midget! Bang, bang, bang! I'm Murdoch, the best marksman in the Ravage Roaming! I can hit an enemy’s heart square from a mile away! Fear me!”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: I used to laugh and play along with the children as they posed as ogres, goblins, and other monsters in their games, but this was different. The child's antics struck me unpleasantly. I gave in to outrage, snatched the stick from the little bully’s hands, snapped it over my knee, threw it into the bushes, and gave him a good slap up his head. The boy was no chicken; he didn’t burst into tears, but rather spat at me and ran away, looking back and shouting:<p>'''Kid: '''“Yeah, you'll regret this too! Murdoch is close by, and he knows you're here! You'll see! He'll shoot you all like the prairie dogs you are, and we'll—and we'll stop being afraid, and everything will be as it was before!”</p>}}
+{{TErow| 5 | Moonchild | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: I was sitting alone by the fire, deep in my thought, when Kosta came up to me, holding out a flask of Triple Cactus Swill, a teeth-grindingly potent brew of his own distillation, of which he was incredibly proud. I never was one for ceremonies; I took a couple of swigs, and then we just sat there in silence. I remembered how way back in the day, in the winter evenings, when I was still very small, I’d sit by the fireplace in old Haye’s cabin, and my foster grandfather, usually picky and shouty, would braid the hair over my right ear with his stiff fingers.<p>“Listen, Kosta... What's a Moonchild? Ever heard anyone called that?”<p>'''Kosta: '''“It is known, lass... When a young girl brings…”<p>The old carter suddenly shuddered, as if he remembered something very important, and almost shouted: “No, no, don't know about no child, don't want to know, never seen, never been near, damn me to where the horned ones drag their buds out of!”<p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: The old man dropped the flask, jumped up and walked away, slapping his heels on the sand. I sat staring into the flames. A thin figure emerged from the darkness. Wynona stood on the other side of the bonfire, her head raised to the sky.<p>{{H|Wynona|0=}}: “We have a song... You don't know our language, but I'll try to translate it for you.”<p>''Call her Moonchild''<br>''Dancing in the shallows of a river.''<br>''Lonely Moonchild''<br>''Dreaming in the shadow of a willow.''<br>''Talking to the trees of the cobweb strange,''<br>''Sleeping on the steps of a fountain,''<br>''Waving silver wand to the night-birds song,''<br>''Waiting for the sun on the mountain.''</br><p>{{H|Henrietta|0=}}: “That’s beautiful... But why was he so scared? Couldn’t have been because of an elven song. There must be something else... I wish I knew the answer, but I don’t want any more poor old men to die or run away in terror. Gods, I never begged you for the secrets of my past. I like the present just fine; I’m alive, strong, and able to decide for myself what I want and where I go... Why now?”</p>}}
+{{TErow| 8 | Mission Objectives | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: Outlawed, my people left their homes and workshops in a hurry. The factories were now staffed by obsequious green-skinned goblins—their numbers were great, and they would do anything to escape their abject poverty. Amazingly, a bunk in a worker's barracks and a bowl of sticky cattail root gruel, the cheapest food imaginable, meant enviable prosperity for them. They had no idea of occupational health and safety, and workplace accidents never shook their eagerness to work. They were clumsy and slow at learning, but the new factory supervisors, appointed by Kastore, could easily swap a worker at the machine every day; sooner or later one was bound to turn out at least somewhat teachable. All that meant Kastore no longer had the slightest need for the halflings. Many were fleeing south, to cities that the usurper's greedy hand had not yet reached. One such last haven of freedom was Fort Rotwang, now besieged by Morton. The militiamen’s sabotage did quite a number on the goblin, and we now had two or three weeks before he would be able to really dig in and get reinforcements. We had to break the siege and reunite with the refugees in the city before then. Upon liberation, Rotwang should become our main base where we’d be preparing for our flight to Eeofol. Of course, a rescue party was now out of the question—once we left Jadame, no one would be waiting for us back here. The stakes were as high as it gets: either we help Erathia vanquish the red-skinned locusts and regain our homeland, or we die trying. Such a fate surely is better than huddling somewhere on the edge of the world as two-time fugitives. One of the halflings in Kosta's team turned out to be an experienced planner from the Associated Works’ central office. With his help, we were able to make the calculations. We would need at least 125 units of sulfur, mercury, and ore for the rearmament and the long flight. I thought about trying to contact Frederick, but no one knew where he was, what had happened to him, or whether he had had a hand in what was happening here in the land we just recently thought of as our own.<p>Thank you, old friend! You saved us, helping us become brave and resourceful. To you I owe the strength that lives within me, that I feel more and more of every day. It’s time to take my life and my people’s fate into my hands. We will go our own way. I hope you are well, wherever you are. I believe we will meet again one day, and you will tell me about your new wonderful discoveries.</p>}}
+{{TErow| 10 | Lightning Rod Warning | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: I jumped up on the bed; there was a sensation I thought long lost among the memories of my old life in Eeofol. The hair on my feet bristled... and not only on my feet. As I stepped out of the tent, I saw my comrades, each sporting a dandelion-like hairdo. The air smelled of a thunderstorm… and something else. That odor—where did I know it from? Oh. Of course.<p>My memory opened the floodgates, and sensations poured rushing at me. Sight, hearing, smell, even taste—everything was sharp again, just as it had been in my childhood. A long summer day of my carefree youth: Frederick in his workshop, showing me a shiny iron ball and telling me about lightning, charges, and how he is about to harness lightning and make it turn millstones, illuminate the darkness of caves, and even drive away wild beasts. He clicked something; the room filled with this familiar smell, and the hair on my feet stood up, just like right now. I shuddered. I remembered what had come next. Smiling mysteriously, Frederick invited me to touch the shiny ball. I reached out to feel the pretty little round thing, but there was still a good cubit between my hand and the ball when lightning struck with a loud snap and pain shot through my body. I cried and swore for a good while, while Frederick blurted out apologies, muttering words I didn't understand at the time—something about calibration, calculated power and arc-through energy. Could it be that he had eventually mastered the lightning, but the artificers now think that the wild beasts are… us?</p>}}
+{{TErow| 11 | Lightning Rod Warning... Again | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: My worst fears were confirmed. We stumbled upon something I could only describe as an ugly manifestation of a dark experimenter's twisted genius. We wandered into a small rocky valley while on a recon raid. The smell of thunderstorm and burnt flesh, and charred skeletons tied to metal lightning rods—those were the gloomy decorations of the dull wasteland we saw. The sand around the iron structures had turned to glass in some places; some large stones were split, and their exposed surfaces displayed tree-like patterns etched into them by some unknown force. There was a kind of somber, magnetic beauty about them... Here and there, burnt markings with some kind of numbers on them were scattered. It was an execution, a long and painful one; it looked like it lasted all the while the wretches were testing their new weapon. I hoped fervently that the mind behind this atrocious contraption was anyone but Frederick’s. Now we knew: a thunderclap could hit any of us, anytime. We had to remember that and try to find some means of protection.}}
+{{TErow| 13 | Couatls Scouts | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: That day, the Ñouatl that Wynona and I had been trying to make into a scout returned to camp. I was not yet convinced that these creatures could be useful anywhere but on the battlefield. Still, the elf insisted that the Couatls were incredibly intelligent. She'd found common ground with these creatures much faster than I'd hoped. Probably thanks to Tlamac’s ritual. I'd almost forgotten the thrill of watching my friend help a small serpent, feathers all shades of red, out of its egg. It was as if it had been generations ago, back when the Couatls reigned over the world and the world was just a few islands...<p>Wynona's bond with her new friends was unusual yet unbreakable. Hugging the tired scout by his big, craggy head, she could see everything that he himself had seen over the past few days. It seemed as though we were not the only targets of the bounty hunters Kastore had sent out. The Couatl saw several gunslingers dragging a shackled man who looked like an alchemist. There was also another prison to the north, guarded by juggernauts, but there was no way of knowing who was languishing there.<p>We were not alone in our struggle against Kastore; at least that felt somewhat encouraging.</p>}}
+{{TErow| 17 | Abandoned Factory | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: Wynona progressed by leaps and bounds in mastering the benefits of her friendship with the Couatls. Not so long ago, I was chuckling as she tried to explain the job to her first feathered spy; now we had a whole flock of nimble scouts scouring the clouds and keeping enemy airships from taking off. The Couatls are much smarter than the wyverns; those would mindlessly throw themselves at airships’ propellers out of their habit to go at their prey’s tail, and lost more than a dozen before getting the idea to attack the balloon. Conversely, our winged friends knew the airships’ weak points perfectly well, so now we had decisive air superiority. Moreover, thanks to these amazing creatures, we knew of the traitors’ well-fortified, impregnable fortress and of at least three commanders from Kastore’s growing army who had deployed their troops on the approaches to this bastion. We also knew of the ever-increasing dragon population and of one very intriguing town, abandoned after the undead rose from their graves. There were intact manufactories and foundries in that town, which meant that with the undead laid to rest, we could produce some automatons for our own needs.}}
+{{TErow| 29 | Enemy Hero Waves - First Warning | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: Kastore has thrown the full might of his growing army at us. This is not simply an attempt to intimidate the renegades or quell a rebellion. This means a war of attrition, one we are certain to lose. Every day, the furnaces of his forges and factories burn hotter and hotter; the goblins gain experience and work better and better, and he demands more and more from them. Sooner or later, there will be two or even three self-propelled machines or marksmen for each one of us. Every hour of delay today is sure to bring us bitter defeats and losses tomorrow. We cannot fight two wars at once—one in the present, with former friends, and the other in the future, with old enemies. Still, I believe we can gather enough power and take off for Eeofol before Kastore pounces.}}
+{{TErow| 85 | Final Warning (411) | {{H|Henrietta|0=}}: We cannot wait any longer. We must get the airships ready and leave for Eeofol now, or Kastore will sweep us away like a stormwave washes away a sandcastle on the beach. All we have accomplished here has been such a castle, mistaken for a new home. Our future no longer lies in these barren lands—it lies out there, across the ocean. There is only one place worthy of being called home. We may die in this uphill fight with the demons, but we will fall on our own land.}}
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