The lore behind Para Bellum’s Conquest is one of the best, if not the best, in all of wargaming. The rich worldbuilding is on a level that is rarely reached by some fantasy authors, let alone wargame developers. The lore has inspired me to take a stab at some of my own fiction based on the world of Ea that Para Bellum Games has created. Hope you enjoy, and if you would like to see more of this content in the future be sure to let me know in the comments! Enjoy the read:
The Stranger moved like a man. It’s gait, its bearing, it’s presence did not betray it. Any passerby who looked would only see a taller than average man, covered in robes, moving swiftly toward the castle. Just the Stranger’s abnormal height was not enough to make anyone stop and question. It was fortunate that no one tried. Of course, later, after the chaos and confusion had subsided, tales were told about the Stranger. Many people remembered seeing the Stranger striding through the streets on it’s way to the castle. Strangely, no men-at-arms remembered seeing or speaking with the Stranger at any of the gatehouses that led to their lord’s keep. Not even the Household Guards could give an explanation on how the Stranger entered the Duke’s own chambers.
Later, after the initial shock of the incident wore off, there were stories. There were men who had claimed to know the task the Stranger was set upon that night. Their description of what they saw was unbelievable, but their stories were worth the price of their drinks at least. They claimed that the Stranger entered their lord’s private chambers, let in by the very Household Guard who claimed not to have let a soul pass through. It was only when their lord screamed in alarm that they had any idea there was something terribly wrong. The tale-tellers in the taverns had never actually seen the Stranger, they would always claim, but they had known a man who had. Or, at the least, their squad-mates had known a man. Maybe this is why the stories of the Stranger de-robing into a whirling form of bones and blades with too many arms to wield them did not cause quite the stir they should have. Despite the majority of these stories being extremely similar in their telling.
Regardless of the tales told in the local taverns, the city was in disarray. For the ones in positions of power this was an opportunity. An entire noble house, with its incomes and influence, was waiting for the person who would fill the void of power left by the Duke’s murder. For the common people, who worked the various tasks required to keep a city from falling into chaos, little had changed. For anyone of influence in the city, everything had changed. The vacuum of power left by the Duke’s death would soon plunge the city into chaos. The lord had no family, no one who was the obvious choice to continue his rule. Maybe that is why this assassination was carried out.
Unfortunately for Gerecht he could not move among the townsfolk unnoticed as the Stranger had. His shield, depicting the blindfolded image of justice, marked him an outsider as much as anything contained in the stories about the Stranger. He was an Errant of the Order of the Shield, and while there were relatively few of his Order left, nobles and common-folk alike knew the symbols of his office. Charged with the protection of the common man against all threats, both from without and within their own communities, Gerecht knew that his presence was sorely needed here. He also knew it would not be universally welcomed. For this very reason, finding lodging had been difficult, but eventually Gerecht had settled in a small room in an inexpensive boarding house.
***
News had traveled fast of his arrival. Gerecht could tell the cutthroats attempting to enter his room were no professionals. They were making so much noise attempting to pick the lock to his room it was a wonder they had bothered with stealth at all. From the looks of the door, kicking it in would have been faster and made only slightly more noise. Moving quietly, Gerecht moved to the space just beyond where the door would swing open. Meanwhile, the cutthroats had finally managed to trip the locking mechanism on his door, As they moved quickly into the room straight toward the bed the two men were slightly surprised to find the room empty, but Gerecht had to give one of them credit. After he slashed the throat of the man closest to him, the remaining cutthroat had the wherewithal to turn and defend himself with a wicked looked short sword. Unfortunately, for the remaining cutthroat, his weapon was not well designed for dueling. More of a long knife than a true short sword, it was designed for quick cutting of flesh not the parrying of blades that was required now.
Not that it would have mattered much if the cutthroat was properly armed. As an Errant of the Order of the Shield, Gerecht had faced off against far worse than this mortal would-be assassin. Keeping out of the reach of the other man’s weapon was not difficult. It was equally as easy to get past his attacker’s guard to end the fight.
Two men dead, and in need of finding new accommodations, is not where Gerecht expected to find himself after his first night in the town. However, there was a hidden gem in this otherwise un-fruitful night. There was someone out there who did not want a man from his Order within the town. They wanted him dead so badly they would risk a botched attempt on his life therefore giving credence to his theories. With the assassination of the Duke happening just recently this could only mean one thing. Those tavern tales of the Duke’s assassination may be closer to the truth than anyone in power would care to admit. Times of political upheaval, like the atmosphere created with the Duke’s death, rarely meant the common-folk would be well cared for or heeded. This town is exactly where an Errant of the Order of the Shield needed to be.
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