| FURYONDY'S DILEMMA By David Insley |
| THIS EDITORIAL DOES NOT REFLECT THE OPINIONS OF THE OWNERS, MANAGEMENT OR PATRONS OF WIZARDS OF THE COAST, THE RPGA, THE LEAGUE OF WOMEN VOTERS, THE LEAGUE OF HALFLING VOTERS, THE LEAGUE OF HALFLING WOMEN VOTERS, THE DWARF-TOSSING RIGHTS COALITION, OR ANY OTHER ORGANIZATION, INCLUDING THE NOW-DEFUNCT WoGFC. BUT IT DARNED WELL OUGHT TO. FEEL LIKE COMMENTING? GO RIGHT AHEAD - DROP ME A LINE. |
| COUMNIST NOTE: This piece was written almost the same day that the 1998 Greyhawk Adventures stuff came out, which laid out in detail the Second Greyhawk War. As this piece is set in 585 CY, it must be taken into that context, as it does not jive with "canon" Greyhawk inasmuch as the official WoG timeline's events differ. In other words, as I say in this piece, it's my own concept of WoG from my personal campaign six years ago. The count raised his fist and slammed it down upon the oaken table. "I care not for your war-wewary shirking! It is little more than cowardice!" He glared at the knights of Heironeous who sat before him. "I respect your valor, and your leadership during the war, even though it came too late to help my homeland. But you--" "Too late? Only because you failed to heed our MANY warnings, Highness." Sir Merrith Bainbridge, 25-year-old paladin of Heironeous and hero of the Veng battles, rose quickly at that, color rushing to his face, and interrupted his erstwhile lord. "The Shield Lands might have held - had your people listened and prepared themselves for Iuz'a hordes rather than sit idly, hoping for miracles and showing disdain and mistrust for their allies." Artur Jakartai, newly-named Count of Crystalreach, was now trruly enraged. "Sit idly--? You insolent, impudent...!!!" His body began to tremble, and his hands clenched into fists,pressed against the top of the table by the sheer force of will that kept him from striking the young knight. Livid, his face a nearly beet-red hue, Jakartai had a few men at the table gasping. "How dare you speak to me in this manner, whelp?! I fought far longer than the likes of you," he said, and stabbed a finger at Bainbridge, "before you condescended to help my people across the Veng. You know NOTHING of what they went through - the sufferings, the privations, the RIDICULE, which to this day continues by your, your... people!" "Highness, with all due respect," interjected Edgar Whaples, squire to Bainbridge, "I think we might have more knowleddge of it than you might to care to credit us with possessing." "Oh, do you, now?" the Count said icily. "Well, while you were shining the boots of the mighty knight Sir Merrith so he could look good fighting goblins, do you happen to know where I was?""Yes, Highness, I know," the squire, himself now shaking, managed to respond. Drawing himself up, he took a deep breath, and added, "I know where you were. You were trapped behind enemy lines, and fought your way out to safety. You were a shining example of valor and an exceptional leader. And these were but two of the many reasons you were made ruler of Crystalreach - others being your dedication to King Belvor, and your perseverance during the loss of your homeland." "Hear, hear," was the reply from many at the large oval table, the harumphing augmented by the slamming of several tankards. "And only after he made sure as many of his loyal troops got out as possible did he make good his own exit," added Tobias Sudhoff, Knight of Furyondy and loyal Trithereon worshipper, added quickly, looking admiringly upon the Count. "And thanks to his bravery, scores of his men made it to safety that day." "And you dare claim I did not to my utmost in the fighting, pup? Coming from someone who knows little more than to patch a hole in a mail coif, or to tie down a pack saddle --" "Please, Highness, I meant no such thing,": the squire managed. "I was merely pointing out that we were not only aware of the situation, but that we understand your sacrifice. Forgive my speaking out of turn. I meant no challenge to your abilities or those of your people." "Please, Highness," Bainbridge added, "my point is that we need to work together, and NOT to launch further large-scale raids against Iuz's lines. It would be a fatal, foolish endeavor. We are already denuded of much of our strength. To further deplete our resources of manpower--" "And elf power!" Elnish Arundel, elven warrior-mage, chimed in. Bainbridge nodded to Arundel. "And elf power, yes - would only open the door to Iuz. And if we lost the Veng, fair Fendrelan, the very town where we confer this might, will be yet another of Iuz'a goblin brothels... and open-air torture chambers!" "And with no natural barriers between us and them, Highness," Arundel added, "you would quickly become a count in EXILE." Jakartai stiffened at this comment, which Arundel knew full well would offend the Count. After a fashion, he was already a ruler in exile. "Nonsense, elfling," Jakartai said condescendingly - to a demihuman 100 years his senior. "When we have given Iuz a bloody nose, we can rebuild. But to rebuild after a loss is detrimental to morale as well as to progress." Jakartai was in the full flush of his rhetoric now, and his color was fading a bit - at least, enough to make most of the assemblage relax. He was ALWAYS red; at least, since 582, he had been. "We must regain all the lands we have lost, and then see to it that they never fall again! The only way to know the strength of our foe is to fight him, to avenge the losses we have suffered thus far by killing a dozen for every one we lose!" "And what if they have thirteen to our one, Highness?" Simon Archer, priest of Heironeous and Canon of Fendrelan, inquired softly. "What then? You know all to owell how quickly Iuz'a humanoid troops can replace their losses, but we take far longer. And let us not even make mention of races with longer lifespans, such as our elven and dwarven allies." Jakartai grunted his digression, and took his seat. "So what do you propose? Sitting idly by and digging holes to hide in so that when they attack us AGAIN - and you know they shall - we can snipe at them when they get in our rear areas?" "Hardly, Highness," Bainbridge responded. "But we are by no means prepared for the all-out offensive you and many others propose. We must find an alternative to the two extremes, a middle ground to maintain the security of the realm." Bainbridge saw how the count had begun to turn red again, and thus spoke calmly. "We gain little territory by fortifying, I admit--" "And I would be one such party to that belief!" Sudhoff growled. "Holes are for rabbits. And walls are for scaling" This exclamation, accompanied by his raised flagon, was greeted with another round of harumphing from the pro-offensive faction. Bainbridge looked to the ceiling, took another deep breath, and seemed to be counting to ten. "I freely admit it; fortifying does not gain back the Shield Lands. But neither does dying in vain, Highness." He cleared his throat. "And much as I know every man - er, person - here would like to, we cannot simply pick up our weapons, ford the Veng and start slaying goblinoids in the hopes of accompliahing any realistic strategic goals. We are severely outnumbered, and our men are still stinging from the last such raid a month ago, when half the force was lost or seriously wounded!" The Baron's face was back to beet red. HE had ordered that raid, and was likewise still stinging - from the loss of political face its failure caused him. -- Okay, maybe circumstances within the County of Crystalreach didn't quite go this way, but it has to be something remarkably similar. Why? Well, first, a little background: In 582 CY, Iuz, despotic ruler of a goodly portion of the north-central Flanaess, launched a massive invasion, led by demons and mustered largely by monstrous humanoids and evil human mercenaries in a bid to overrun Tenh, the County of Urnst, Furyondy, the Shield Lands and several other nations. After much bitter fighting, the Shield Lands, fell, and much of northern Furyondy, including the old capital of Crockport, fell under Iuz's sway. The fighting reached its crescendo in Furyondy in 584 when Chendl, the new capital, was besieged and nearly taken. But luckily, reinforcements from nations to the south of Furyondy - and the bravery of those inside Chendl - helped lift the siege and drive back the Old One's hordes. In late 584, a peace treaty was signed in the Free City of Greyhawk, effectively ending the worst war to engulf any portion of Oerik since the Invoked Devastation and Rain of Colorless Fire a thousand years ago. Many brave knights and commoners lost their lives to preserve the freedom of the areas Iuz failed up put under his boot - and many, most notably the worshippers of Trithereon, the Summoner, God of Vengeance, want to strike back at the Old One for his crimes. However, casualties among the men of Furyondy and the exiled Shield Landers who fought alongside them were so heavy that many farms now go untended, and many chores normally reserved for men are being taken up, as best as possible, by the female population of the kingdom, so that their husbands, sons and fathers may keep the kingdom free for one more day. Another religious group, namely, the paladins and priestly followers of Heironeous the Invincible, God of Liberty, want to take advantage of the respite created by the Peace of Greyhawk to fortify Furyondy's borders, from the Veng River in the east to the Vesve Forest in the west, to prevent Iuz from taking another inch of free land. This split within the knightly hierarchy has rarely resulted in more than angry words between the two faiths, but it does make for intrigue within the court of Belvor IV, King of Furyondy. Himself a paladin of Heironeous, Belvor tries daily to maintain the balance of power between these two, and many other, factions, and to keep his kingdom safe from the predations of Iuz's minions. This is what makes Furyondy such a great place for a politically-based campaign, as well as campaigns based upon hit-and-run raids against the Old One in Dorakaa. How would you resolve this? This is the true beauty of Greyhawk - so many different ways to do one thing. I personally have this plan for my campaign: 1] The followers of Heironeous finally lose sway after a series of atrocities are committed by human and orcish raiders, who cross the Veng under cover of night and attack isolated settlements in Furyondy, some miles behind the river and the front line its presence creates. 2] Adventurers are the first sent in to stem the tide of these incursions, and, for a while, it works. The orcs and mercenaries are driven back into the Shield Lands. 3] Iuz gets impatient - and sends a larger force across the Veng in midsummer of 586 CY. After three weeks of brutal fighting, this sally is repulsed as well. But Baron Artur Jakartai, a Shield Lander by birth, uses it to his political advantage. And in 587 CY, the Second Greyhawk War begins, as Belvor's army crosses the Flare Line to do battle against Iuz. 4] In the ensuing war, the Trithereon worshippers get just what they wanted - revenge. But, as the Oriental saying from our own world goes, "before seeking vengeance, dig two graves." Jakartai himself is nearly killed at Grabford. Critwall walls to him a month later, as his valor andcunning sends Iuz's poorly-disciplined humanoid troops reeling back in several successive routs. 5] However, at the battle of Critwall, Jakartai pays a heavy price; more than half of his already weakened force is lost - and the newly-regained territory, plus the area behind the front lines, lie at risk as Iuz rallies and counterattacks. 6] Furyondy, nearly bankrupt and bled white by this new war, is forced to abandon its newly-liberated section of the Veng coastline, though they keep control over Grabford, cutting the Bone Road that runs to dark Dorakaa... There is so much that can be done with any WoG campaign, and this one is a bit different than the picture portrayed in The Adventure Begins, as the Great Northern Crusade, the return of the Crook of Rao, and the Banishing of the Fiends swings the scales back toward the cause of good... But, hey, as DM, you can make anything happen. David Insley |
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| This column originally published 13 June 1998 |