The Fountainhead of Order
A Dominions 6 Narrative Campaign
In the beginning, there was Chaos.
Now the Wheel has turned once again.
The sudden disappearance of the Pantokrator was as if waking from a dream. The stultifying aura of absolute Order had lifted from the land and unveiled an unrecognisable world as the influence of the Supreme God bled away and all beings felt a newfound freedom and independence. It was a time of wild revelry and deep despair as the old and familiar rituals ceased to provide result, but settled down soon enough as a new routine asserted itself. New and old faiths emerged to offer succour and all peoples looked to the future.
The city of Marignon, some forty-thousand souls, found new guidance in an old icon of theirs. In the centre of the Grand Piazza had always stood a large statue depicting a robed woman, armoured and bearing the scales of justice, wielding a hammer and with the cornucopia at her feet, and with the removal of the decrees of the old God which chained and imprisoned so many lesser deities, the Marignese priesthood soon began to receive whispers from it’s spirit. Now the city worships a new god and her people already see great dividends.
Crecimienta, Goddess of Marignon, the One who Purifies Everyone by the very Utterance of Her Name, the Beginning and the End, the Fountainhead of Order, Lady Precious Green, the Mistress of Growth. Her lands are safe, orderly and productive, crops seem to spring forth from the ground with barely any effort from farmers and good fortune is part of life. Save only for the mages’ insistence that the aether is dull and magic-less, Marignon is as close to ideal as any could wish.
This makes their lands coveted, however, and there are enemies all about. Not only do men desire what they have, but the disappearance of the Supreme God has surely empowered many foreign faiths and worse yet, the Thrones of Ascension are vacant- hoards of dangerous power that could be turned against any foe of the claimant. It is for this reason that the men of Marignon step out to secure their existence of their people and their faith and install Crecimienta as the Ruler of All.
Spring in the Year Zero of the Ascension Wars
Marignon
The parade ground within the Grand Citadel rung with the clashing of steel and the cracking of crossbows as men practised. Captain Guido had only a month to form them into an expeditionary force and was working overtime. Volunteers from the city guard, some pikemen and crossbowmen were expected to be bolstered by a fresh raising of more crossbowmen and whatever fanatic crusaders could be enticed away from the city temple would have to do for Marignon’s first appearance on the world stage.
It was no true crusade- indeed, the expedition lacked any holy support as the House of Justice was still in ferocious debate over who should take up the mantle of Prophet. Nor was there to be aid from magicians as they busied themselves over adjusting to the new draining effect of Crecimienta’s domain and organising an investigatory group to follow behind the ragtag “army” in search of magical resources to exploit. Guido was under no illusions- it would be a bloody first assault, and a harbinger of the times to come. He only hoped that Puillain the Troubadour could sneak positive information back to him from Arcatus, the first province slated for addition to the Marignese fold. It was hoped that the mountainous region held many metal deposits to be consumed by the hungry forges of the city, in production of the heavy armour the regular troops favoured.
With a sigh, Captain Guido drew his falchion, holding the flat of the blade outward and marching out into the parade ground to encourage some new dandies who were more occupied with preening in their flamboyant uniforms than practising their marksmanship.
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Puillain was feeling quite sick of Arcatus. Weeks spent with tedious tribal chieftains, enduring endless talk of “enemies driven before you” and “lamentations of the women” and repetitive requests to play “Hooves of Fire” on the lute again and the most he could get out of them was outrageous boasts about the number of their riders and confirmation that there were villages in the mountains above the plains, scraping a living in the rock.
He would be well glad of Captain Guido’s forthcoming assault, as would those settled people, and the tribesmen too, no doubt, once they had been introduced to some good wine rather than the rancid concoction of mare’s milk and horse blood it appeared to be traditional to sup on.
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and then I fumbled turn 3 by taking on too many horse tribe at once with too few crossbows since any other type of troop is too expensive for marignon to produce at game start