PowerMonger
-----------

-> cheat #1 <-
 Instruct the captain to invent something, then pause and put the game speed
 up to full.  When you unpause the captain will have kept inventing and you
 will have lots of whatever he was making.  Be careful though as you may be
 attacked by the enemy while paused.
-> cheat #2 <-
 When you wish to invent in double quick time, click Invent and when your
 men leave, click on it again. This often makes a catapult immediately.
 This cheat works only once on each island.


                           STRATEGIC & TACTICAL GUIDE

                 published on the Absolute Adventurer Volume One


                             THE RHYTHMS OF CONQUEST

     The Reminiscenes, Impressions, and Eyewitness Account of Ptarmigan
     Burlihoo, Retired Imperial Poet Laureate and Paramount Censor
     Emeritus, Describing and Explaining the Campaign of Enlightened
     Domination Upon This Most Fortunate Continent by the Great Power
     Monger. Incorporating Additional Expository Material Detailing His
     Strategic Theora and Many Observations of the Peculiar Customs of the
     Contendly Subjugated Populations.

                             With Instructive Maps.
                           Deluxe Edition. (Abridged).

                                       -1-


                                    CONTENTS

               THE PATH OF CONQUEST                              4
               PROLOUGE                                          5
               LANDFALL                                          5
               THE JUDGEMENT OF THE SCALES                       8
               OPENING SHOTS                                    11
               WOOLY FRIENDS                                    13
               THREE SWORDS IN EMGGS                            16
               IF ALL THE SEAS WERE INK                         18
               THE VAST BLUE                                    20
               BRIETH ENCOUNTER                                 22
               THE CHAINS OF COMMAND                            24
               RECITAL                                          27
               ONCE IN A BLUE MOON                              29
               DOLDRUMS                                         31
               A MOVABLE FLEET                                  33
               SLASH AND GRAB                                   35
               LIFE ON THE EDGE                                 37

                                       -2-


               THE BATTLES AROUND GAUNTLET LAKE                 39
               THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY                            41
               A WAGONLOAD OF HINTS                             43
               NO ONE IS INNOCENT                               50
               WAITING GAME                                     52
               WHITE KNIGHT TAKES RED KING                      54
               CAPTAINS AND THE KINGS DEPART                    56
               POISON PEN                                       58
               DISCIPLINE                                       61
               OUR FAME PRECEDES US                             63
               PTARMIGAN AGONISTES                              65
               WORDS OF PEACE, ACTS OF WAR                      67
               NEVER SHOW A MONKEY YOUR TOUNGUE                 70
               PTARMIGAN RUNS SHORT                             73
               THE STORM AND THE CROWN                          75
               EPILOGUE                                         78
               NOTICE                                           80


                                       -3-


                              THE PATH OF CONQUEST

                                           1111
                                  1234567890123

                                1 X
                                2 XX
                                3  XXX
                                4    XX
                                5     XX
                                6      X
                                7      XXX
                                8        XX
                                9         X
                               10         X
                               11         X
                               12         X
                               13         XXXXX
                               14             X
                               15             X


                                       -4-



                                    PROLOGUE

                                    LANDFALL

     It occured to me that I was wet. Hazily remembering that I had spent
     the past several peirlous weeks at sea, that could also mean that I
     was drowned. But the fact that I was still breathing disallowed that
     possibility. Reassuring as that was, it told me nothing of my current
     location. I opened a blurry, salt-stung eye to reconnoitre. A crab had
     ascended my nose and was looking gravely down into my theretofore
     passive face. Our gazes met only briefly. Disgruntled that I was still
     alive and that my face would not be providing him with a leisurely
     meal, he scuttled away to conduct his business elsewhere.

     I knew I was on a beach because of the roar of the surf, my interlude
     with the crab, and the moderate quantity of sand in my mouth, which I
     languidly scraped out with a white, wrinkled finger. I offered up
     grateful prayers to the seven national deities, 11 local demigods, 15
     community spirits, and my 21 anscestral guardians, as well as the many
     fetishes I carry at all times but rarely bother to count. I gave
     thanks that the sea had spared me, that my voyage was at an end, and
     that I had enlisted in the army and not the navy in the callow days of
     my youth. Maritime manoeuvres suited neither my temperment nor my
     digestion. Both are sensitive. I stood at last on wobbly legs and
     scanned the sandy shore for my countrymen.

     There had been a woeful reduction in the Grand Army whose proud
     vanguard we once were. Our homeland had been destroyed by unimaginable
     geologic fury. Many of his Majesty's elite forces were swallowed up by
     hungry cracks in the earth in the initial disaster. The majority of
     the survivors were incinerated by steaming lava in the subsequent
     conflagration, wit the better portion of the remnants washed away by
     the concluding cataclysm. Then the situation began to deteriorate.

                                       -5-


     The score of use who were spared immediate calamity, including my
     sovereign lord, raced to the seaside to find a means of escape. I was
     alarmed to find that we would have to flee our disintegrating homeland
     in a fleet of shockingly porous fishing boats. Their condition would
     have been a scandal in less volcanic times. Still, we had no choice
     but to consign our fate to their leaky hulls. As we pushed away from
     the shore, the blast from an explosion struck our sails as an angry
     mistress strikes an insolent servant, and it flung us far out to sea.
     We never looked back as the smoke from our burning nation shrouded the
     sun. Only airborne, glowing ash from our lost homeland lit our way.

     The holocaust had changed even the familiar trade routes of the sea.
     We rode alien currents for weeks through doldrums and squalls, icy
     swells and tropical eddies. Our noble lord did what he could to
     maintain morale by taking his turns at bailing, rowing, and keeping
     watch, shouting encouragement all the while. He would accept no more
     than an equal share of our meagre rations, although all begged him to
     partake of more to keep up his strength. Without his noble and
     unselfish example we surely would have perished, and his name and that
     of his people would have vanished from the memories of nations. It was
     his strength, not our own, that brought us to a fair shore.

     At this moment, I feared he had saved us only to face new desolation.
     When I spied him at last, he was standing alone by a rampart of jagged
     black boulders. His red cloak shone like sunrise on a polished blade
     even as dusk and stormclouds began to veil the sky. Brooding before a
     roaring campfire built from the remnants of one of our incontinent
     vessels, he did not look up as we approached. We did not so much
     gather around him in the customary militarily precise circle as
     collapse in a ragged and exhausted oval. Many of us were still gagging
     up brine, and pulling seaweed away from our sunburned faces and faded,
     threadbare uniforms. I counted our depleted number; it was the
     mathematical equivalent of despair.

                                       -6-


     My lord's voice interrupted my geometric digression. I do not recall
     now the exact words he said, but even today when I think on them they
     are fire in my heart and heat all the corridors leading from its four
     chambers. The men rose and the storm broke as he finished speaking.
     The wind caught his cape in its teeth and flared it behind him like
     the tail of a comet, a sure prophecy of conflict and strife. The
     flames of the bonfire flared and convulsed, choreographed by the
     tempest into a livid dance of war. The pelting rain was hot, but not
     so hot as our warrior's blood. Then shet lightning struck the rocks
     behind my lord and shattered them; and in the place of the rough brow
     of stone was shining black glass carved into the five distinct peaks
     of a crown. Mere moments before, we had been a sodden flock of
     listless castaways. Suddenly, the words of our ruler had torn the
     weariness from our muscles and bones, and scalded our minds until all
     hopelessness dispersed like a foolish fog.

     Needless to say, I felt much better. And I so enjoy these
     opportunities to wax poetic. It is for this reason that I gave up the
     scholarly life to become a soldier. I began to outline an epic poem to
     immortalize us all.

                                       -7-


                           THE JUDGEMENT OF THE SCALES

                                    [MAP 1,1]

     This island seemed an unlikely cornerstone for the foundation of a
     great empire. It struck me as more analogous to the rude entrance to
     a gate house than a colonnaded ramp leading into a palace. Still, even
     the finest marble begins as the basest mud, and no throne is ascended
     without climbing a few steps. The campaign here also promised to be a
     brief one and would postpone any premature re-embarkation on the
     bounding main.

                                       -8-


     We had constructed a home of sorts, a tower on a hilltop. It was
     hardly an example of our brilliant national architecture, but then we
     weren't planning to stay long. It served its dual purpose as a storage
     facility for provisions and shelter for my noble lord. Before we left
     the rude shelter, as we did at the beggining of any campaign, we
     removed whatever food we had stored there. Better we eat it than have
     it fall to the tower weasels.

     Reconnaissance of the island showed it had only two large population
     centres, a northern settlement called Tossogy and a southern one named
     Ropmmer. The most disturbing thing about the natives, other than their
     apparent fondness for unattractive place names, was their demeanour.
     The regularity of their schedules, the rigidity of their organization,
     and the uniformity of their dress bespoke one of two things: (1.) A
     driven mania for unoriginality, or (2.) Milatarism. Not that those two
     possibilities are ever mutually exclusive, of course.

     My lord was wise enough to presume that these peasants, although not
     organized into an army, were nontheless trained to engage in open
     combat. His keen judgement echoed my own, as was often the case. I had
     observed that these blue-garbed foreigners occassionally stopped in
     the midst of whatever they were doing, saluted crisply, and shouted,
     "All hail our noble mistress, Jayne III!"

     I do not know how my lord arrived at his decision to attack Tossogy as
     opposed to Ropmmer; as a future poet laureate, I would have preferred
     Ropmmer since it lends itself to easier rhyming, although Tossogy might
     have allowed for freer metrical experimentation. But I had long ago
     resigned myself to the unhappy fact that the poetic muse occupies a
     rank inferior to that of the martial spirit. And I could always
     rearrange the facts for literary neccessity and effect later. Which I
     did.

                                       -9-


     The battle was brief and the victory decisive. Our attitude was
     casual, even passive, as we overwhelmed the rabble. The vanquished
     villeins slunk back to their rude dwellings in disarray. I led my
     doughty comrades in a victory cheer, although my attempts to get them
     to harmonize was met with the customary disnterest. The local
     peasentry was an undistinguished looking lot (I've already mentioned
     their tendency to slink), and their villagehad few visible resources.
     There seemed little reason for us to stay.

     I awaited my Lord's next order, which I assumed would be an attack on
     the bucolic churls of Ropmmer. Instead, he was studying a scales or
     balance, and pouring gold pieces into one of its tarnished cups. I
     assumed he was preparing to reward those of us who had shown the
     greatest valour and warlike spirit against the Tossogians. I
     endeavoured to commemorate the occassion with a couplet (although I
     was having trouble devising a rhyme for "well deserved") when the
     scales tipped to one side and my lord put it and the coins away. "The
     Conquest Balance has spoken. It is the judgement of the scales that we
     now control this territory," he announced. "On to the next conquest!"

     To decide such a thing on the basis of a tipped scales? At first, I
     thought my sovreign had fallen under the sway of some preposterous
     superstition. And as one who allows preposterous superstitions to rule
     my life, I was all in favour of this innovation. But as time passed, I
     came to trust the judgement of the Conquest Balance as purest applied
     science. I detest purest applied science, but what works, works. One
     may win a territory in the middle of a battle if a careful eye is kept
     on the Conquest Balance and one acts quicly. The Balance can tip all
     the way to the right during combat; if it does so, retire. But do not
     hesitate; it might tip back if the tide of battle turns against you.

                                      -10-


                                  OPENING SHOTS

                                    [MAP 1,2]

     The next territory was recahed after a mercifully brief sail; we would
     have to travel by boat many more times before our campaigns were over,
     but happily, never over the open sea. Short coastal or freshwater
     excursions were all that would be required. We built another simple
     tower (my suggestion for a cupola and bas reliefs was ignored) and
     awaited my lord's bidding. Our first target was to be the small
     settlement of Heacidm. We removed our stored victuals from the tower
     and sallied forth.

     The Heacidmic varlets and knaves were no match for even our most
     passive assault. However, they proved more skilful at war's
     manufactures than its practices, for when they were set to inventing
     they made several swords while in a neutral humour and even a cannon
     while feeling more aggressive.

                                      -11-


     Their unselfish motivation was, no doubt, to strengthen our cause and
     thus enable their unfortunate neighbours to share in the benefits and
     security of my lord's absolute rule. This becoming show of loyalty,
     keen perception, and metallurgy recommended them for inclusion in my
     lord's crusading legion, so all were recruited.

     It is worth noting that Inventing could leave my lord in a vulnerable
     position. When everyone is off in the woods, chopping down trees and
     diligently ruining fragile habitants, my lord was left all by himself
     by the workshop; one lone enemy soldier could have come in and made
     sure that he'd never be lonely again.

     We could now strive to conquer the island's more populous settlements.
     By my lord's will, Brininer would be next to fall. The lack of martial
     mettle we encountered there was complete; the flash of sword's edge
     and cannon's muzzle o'erthrew the local population with haste. This
     demonstration of utter helplessness touched the heart of the most
     calloused veterans, so we recruited all the Brininerarians to provide
     them with the protection they so clearly required. My lord presumed
     the citizens of nearby Brilltte were likewise militarily inept, so we
     hastened thence to take them under our nurturing care. We addressed
     the Brillteens with a salutary round of cannon fire and a few
     sword-blows of greeting, and they welcomed us by surrendering politely
     and without delay.

     This brought an end to our strivings in this territory. Upon our
     occupation of Brilltte, my lord's most prescient Conquest Balance told
     us that our strategic brilliance had brought these insular peoples
     within our beneficent sphere. We left our new contrymen behind as we
     travelled to the next cog in the meshing gears of the imperial
     machine.

                                      -12-


                                  WOOLY FREINDS

                                    [MAP 2,2]

     We built our next tower on a hilltop, enjoying a view that was most
     diverting. Too much so, perhaps, since it concealed from view several
     rustic hovels; we practically had to turn our rocky precipice to and
     fro to find them. My lord felt, as did I, that the nearby rough-hewn
     mountain-folks would seize our tower for sundry unclean and dire
     purposes if we left it unguarded before they were pacified. Our
     assault quickly brought them to heel, whereupon they were recruited so
     they might learn the kindred principles of civilised life and
     unquestioning obedience.

                                      -13-


     We also slaughtered their sheep so they would not have to wander the
     desolate hills alone, friendless, and decreasingly palatable. Since
     sheep yield 200 units of food each, it seemed the most practical thing
     to do, although we learned subsequently that we could have brought
     them along. When a farm or settlement's shepard is recruited, his or
     her wooly charges will accompany him when he leaves. Sheep could also
     keep up with our army when it was crossing a body of water. They are
     remarkably buoyant.

     But one sheep we spared. Upon our approach, this most singular ram
     exhibited the greatest glee I have ever seen a quadruped outwardly
     express. And when the battle was won, he joined us in our victory
     shout, and with great effort and patience balanced a plough on his
     head to mimic our helmets. The men warmed to him because of his
     warlike ardour and he was immediately adopted as our mascot. I
     christened him Rupert after our national god of hostile livestock and
     unusual hats.

     We marched away as Rupert Battle Sheep bleated cadence, and it seemed
     to us that our woolly new companion brought us luck as this land fell
     quickly to the fury of our arms. Yet our next battle was not an easy
     one. The C in Ctaten may have been silent but the natives were not,
     and their resistance was stubborn. First we saluted their bravery
     after giving them a sever beating; then we accepted them as brothers
     and their food as lunch. Both new and veteran soldiers needed to rest
     before my lord selected our next target, Josataise, named for that
     gore-sodden tyrant Jos the Red. We expected a battle fiercer than the
     last, but Jasataise was deserted when we reached it. The natives left
     with such haste that they left much food behind, which we added to our
     own stores lest vermin feast on it, growing brazen and rotund.

                                      -14-


     The men, doughty war dogs though they were, were given rest and repose
     as often as was practical. A smaller, rested force can cut a larger
     fatigued force into ribbons and other decorative materials. Therefore,
     in most cases when we attacked a settlement and got men/or food, we
     typically camped immediately to rest if it could be done safely. While
     the enlisted personnel were refreshing themselves, my lord would query
     one of the recently recruited villagers to keep track of his personal
     well-being. He would be very sickly in the wake of our fierce albeit
     justifiable assault, but when he resumed his customary rural
     robustness, we pressed on with our crusade. When possible, we gave
     battle only when the bulk of our forces were well or fit. The merest
     touch of a weapon or bare fist will send anyone who is sickly to a
     better world than this where they will do you little, if any, good.

     We expected to find the fell inhabitants of Josataise despoiling the
     countryside as a renegade army, but this did not come to pass. The
     rest of our stay on this bleak and rocky strand amounted to little
     more than mopping up, as we invaded Haywarand and reduced its larders
     and population to more manageable volumes (which is to say, empty)
     through conscription, and then applied the same theories of resource
     management and demographics to Joscidist, Brillman, Emwarh, and the
     very unfortunately named settlement of Vomataeux. This unhurried
     campaign came to a leisurely conclusion with the taking of Enwarlia
     and Hbols.

     Little did we know that this was to be our last casual campaign.

                                      -15-


                              THREE SWORDS IN EMGGS

                                    [MAP 2,3]

     Since before the mind of man runneth not to the contrary, my lord had
     exhorted to us to prepare for the possibility of wandering armies.
     The ruins in many of the settlements we had conquered had obviously
     been the residue of conquests before ours, and conquests are rarely
     achieved by posting surly notes to one's neighbours. An army or two is
     generally involved in such political realignments. We soon learned a
     simple and eminently practical policy when dealing with such opposing
     forces: kill them, kill them all.

     Our reconnaissance indicated the settlement of Beeme should be our
     first target. The valour of the natives would have been insufficent to
     fill a cavity in an immature tree shrew's molar. So as part of our
     effort to bring remedial education to th ebenighted inhabitants of
     this forsaken strand, my lord accepted the Beemish into his army. On a
  
                                      -16-


     probabtional basis, of course. Their first lessons were to kill their
     sheep, gather all their food, and make a few pikes. Their grades were
     passable if not scholarly. We repeated these steps upon occupying
     Feboy and Licem. It would take some effort to seperate the men from
     the Feboys, but as bringers of civilization, we felt obliged to try.

     My lord chose Emggs as the next laboratory for his expirement in
     educational reform. But he seemed uneasy as we travelled, as did
     Rupert Battle-Sheep, who sniffed the air amid muttered bleats. Rather
     than going into the unprotected settlement, my lord had us camp near
     to it and looked warily toward the north. Both sire's and sheep's
     instincts proved keen, for soon we were set upon by a savage
     carmine-clad hoard of brigands loyal to Jos XVIII. My lord called out
     "Three swords!" which is his signal for "No mercy!" The carnage was
     horrifying, some of our own fellows learned their final lesson upon
     that gory field, and my lord himself was failry coated by a frosting
     of red tunics and nearly undone. But in the end the day was ours. A
     short time later, the little Emms and their neighbours the Dessens
     were helpless before our onslaught, battered though we were. After the
     Conquest Balance declared our victory, the victors were more weary
     than the vanquished, and their dreams more troubled.

                                      -17-


                            IF ALL THE SEAS WERE INK

                                    [MAP 3,3]

     Recall if you will, my attitude concerning boats. Doing so, you will
     understand the discomfort I expirencedm, while participating the
     conquest of the next few territories. If all the seas were ink, I
     should endeavour to write even more and thus do myself the srevice of
     trying to empty them. Studying the lay of the land (and lack thereof)
     in these territories, I was going to suggest to my lord that we take
     every boat we came across; it would have been difficult to range
     southward without them. But my lord, ever prescient, had already
     formulated this policy before I could counsel him. It was always a
     comfort to know that his judgement was at least as keen as my own.

                                      -18-


     It likewise came to my immediate notice that the fresh lake air in
     this vicinity deepened the appetite ferociously. Indeed, on taking
     the settlement of Cttes as our first trophy here, the Citizens
     barely had time to swear their allegiance to my lord before we
     hastily slaughtered their sheep for our stores. When we set sail in
     those few boats in Cttes' meagre fleet, we hugged the shore tightly
     (displacement had been somewhat increased by our late ravenousness).
     My lord chose Hlled as our next goal.

     The previous massacre we had inflicted upon Jos' ancarnadine
     mamelukes had not taught them the meaning of fear. The red gang we
     faced on the outskirts of Hlled would remain similarly ignorant,
     since we slew them all with aggressive relish. The boats we removed
     from their rended corpses proved more durable than they did, and
     greatly speeded our progress down the peninsula. But as the land
     broadened, our military difficulties increased. We began to
     encounter the bloodthirsty rabble who follow the banner of Jayne III,
     the cruel blue queen of atrocities. As we battled them in their
     barbarous encampments, my lord frequently had to call to us to become
     more immoderate in our posture; our natural inclination toward
     mildness and mercy did not serve us well in some skirmishes.
     Nonetheless, our progress was rapid through the fetid lanes of
     Bwarry, Mash, Fueux, and Siery, absorbing all men and edibles as we
     passed.

                                      -19-


                                  THE VAST BLUE

                                    [MAP 4,3]

     Our accelerated progress continued through the next territory. Sensing
     peril in the beckoning shadows of nearby Fineh, my lord guided us to
     Relyman. There we encountered but token resistance from the
     Relymansmen, who seemed genuinely chagrined by the blandness of their
     temperament. They clamoured for inclusion in our ranks so they might
     be influenced by our vigorous attitude, and offered up all their
     provisions and boats as enticement. How could my lord refuse?

                                      -20-


     Our next operation, the conquest of gloomy Fineh, put some colour in
     Relymanic blood. The Finehers themselves marvelled at the salutary
     effect enlistment in my lord's service had had on their formerly wan
     neighbours, and followed their example. Our sweep into Renogene
     turned this into something of a mass movement as, after a brief
     skirmish, each and every one of the Renogenetic pleaded to enlist in
     my lord's cause so they might better emulate our hardiness. Indeed,
     the veterans among us frequently had to admonish the recruits not to
     perfrom calisthenics during periods reserved for rest. Our march into
     Modgen was met with less enthusiasm than we were now accostumed to,
     but the Modgenals still yielded to our relentless onslaught. And to
     prevent any further onslaughting on our part, they invented a
     serviceable flotilla for our pleasure.

     The excursion to the southern shore was mercifully brief. Our
     lightning campaign and sinewy tactics quickly brought Flya, Fbetria,
     Emmmlia, and Brian into the service of the cause of righteousness
     and tipped the Conquest balance in our favour. It was a bitter thing
     to leave the dishevelled, unmotivated foreign scum I had moulded
     into battle-hardened, disciplined foreign scum, and many soldierly
     tears were shed as we parted.

                                      -21-


                                BRIETH ENCOUNTER

                                    [MAP 4,4]

     I almost cried a few more soldierly tears when I realized that my
     aquatic aojourns were not at an end. The seawinds around Fninria
     bore away the cries of the wounded as our first campaign here
     reached a climax. We convinced the Fninrii that their hurts would
     heal more rapidly if they remained active, but we marched away from
     them when we left for Hayatmit. Before we began our country sojourn,
     though, we collected all their boats as we knew we'd have to get off
     this island at some point. The ensuing battle implied that the sea-
     going Haytatmitnauts must have been better sailors than warriors;
     they all would have drowned otherwise. We took all their boats to
     encourage them to develop their landslide skills but left them
     behind as food was scarce.

                                      -22-


     We journeyed to Brieth, where we gave them a taste of the single
     sword. We made a present to ourselves of the food and boats but left
     the weary Briethers behind as we knew our journey across the ocean
     blue was to be long and treacherous.

     We plied the somewhat odious waves to Togbalr; it fell easily as
     spring rain. They also had the first sheep we had seen in weeks. It
     was here we brought on board our first hired troops. Futmmman proved
     no more doughty, but the people could hum wonderfully well; we
     recruited them all to teach them to hum our national anthem as soon
     as I wrote one. We went to Decanogy and Deferr and repeated the
     excerise. The position of Deferr to the nearby forest allowed us to
     build a catapult which was a mighty force in our continued conquests.
     My lord sensed a lurking Blue troop approaching. Their fate was the
     same their brothers' had been in the shadow of Brieth.

     Our power was now sufficent to overcome the most stubborn
     countermeasures of the settlements of Emmd and Heazarth, and the
     Conquest Balance declared in our favour yet again.

                                      -23-


                              THE CHAINS OF COMMAND
     
     Consider this chapter as an interlude between campaigns. No, not an
     interlude as much as a debriefing. Certain information imparted
     herein I was able to jot down only delayedly, long after the fact.
     Other events I was not aware of at the time of their occurrence, and
     I could describe them only after interviews with my sovereign lord.
     But these facts, no matter the number of years elapsing between the
     events and their inscription, must yet be known for a complete
     understanding of our success. Or as my lord would say with an
     economy of phrasing I find endearingly quaint, "Better late than
     never."

     Enlisting multiple Captains was imperative to my lord's master plan.
     In as much as Captains must scatter to carry out a broad strategy,
     issuing orders to them was often a vexation. The use of carrier
     pigeons was the only practical avenue for such communication. Because
     there was always a delay between a pigeon's departure and arrival,
     careful planning was necessary to issue orders. If pigeons were sent
     out at properly choosen times, it was possible to "stack up" orders.
     For example, if my lord wanted a subordinate Captain to get food,
     then equipment, then men, he could send out pigeons in sequence to
     carry these orders. However, a newer order overrode an older one, so
     timing had to be precise and well-monitored.

     The forces of Jos the Red, Blue Jayne, and even Rather Yellow Harold
     soon began to mimic my lord's innovation. When a single carrier
     pigeon not of our own prized flock was espied flying above us, it
     meant one of my lord's opponents was sharing conspiracies with one

                                      -24-


     of his scabrous commanders. O dreadful cooing messanger of havoc!
     Happily, my knowledge of ornithology was so voluminous I was able to
     suggest two alternative strategies for handling this ongoing
     situation: First, sweep the feathery heralds from the sky's great
     blind shell; or, second, follow the lice-ridden little statue
     stainers.

     Killing a carrier pigeon on the wing is no task for an unclear eye
     nor usnteady hand. Their flight is as fast as that of bow-shot
     arrow, which in likewise the only weapon that can bring them to
     earth. But if all an opponent's pigeons are shot down, he will no
     longer be able to issue orders to his swinish minions. Tracking
     pigeons is an easier matter, as long as surface conditions do not
     slow down the tracker. Following them in their flight can also lead
     one directly to enemy forces which might otherwise be hard to detect.
     But keen vision is necessary for both endeavours, since it is
     possible to mistake a soliray flushed coot or migratory flock of
     grebes for a carrier pigeon.

     There were also protocols established concerning subordinate
     Captains. They were often assigned the tasks that my lord did not
     have time to perform himself: Inventing, supplying food to a village,
     recovering discarded equipment from a battle field, etc. They could
     similarly be used as my lord's main attacking force, although the
     lag time in issuing orders might have been irksome and inefficient
     in battle when managed by a lesser commander. This also allowed
     Lord PowerMonger to stay in the back lines and thus have a more
     panoramic and strategic view of the battle.

                                      -25-


     Sending a Captain to survey unfamiliar territory with a vanguard of
     less than four men was an RSVP to catastrophe. He was more
     susceptible to attack by unabsorbed townspeople and oafs. If his
     contingent was less than four, it was often best to assign him to
     spy, thus allowing him to sulk observantly across the land without
     being set upon by opposing blackguards.

     There is one stratagem, however, that requires a Captain to travel
     alone: Assassination. To play the assassin's role, the captain who
     is given the task must be equipped with a sword or bow and
     dispatched to an area near his target. When the enemy camped, the
     assassin moved in as a normal spy would; but when he was inside the
     circle of camp, he attacked. With luck, the enemy Captain died
     before his men realized what had happened. If the enemy was very
     healthy or well equipped, the attempt often failed and my lord lost
     a servant.

                                      -26-


                                     RECITAL

                                    [MAP 5,4]

     There was a time when I was not as accomplished a versifier as now I
     am. The following fragment shows this, I think (even though it is not
     a completely unaccomplished piece):

         Through the flowery fields to Mouist,

         Our armour shing, our valour truest.

         The Blackguards! How they cringe and creep,

         Watching while we kill their sheep.

         Their men sign up to avoid impalin',

         And everyone scampers towards Embalem.

                                      -27- 


         We attack from where the warm sun rises

         And deliver many rude surprises.

         Recruitment will make the locals less insular,

         And we head for Futtted, where the land is peninsular.

         The battle is brief in flighty Futted,

         And we leave it, like Embalem, looted.

     The rigours of camp life left me little time to work on my rhymes,
     hard though that may be for you to believe after you have read the
     previous. So I will continue the commentary on this campaign in more
     prosaic terms. We turned again toward Embalem, where we paused to
     make a cannon. We then made our way towrds Liced. The Red horde we
     had seen before appeared. They fared no better then the sheep did
     before the fury of our aggression. A passive demonstration of the
     joys of the warrior's life convined the Licedines to take up the
     trade, and they brought along all the food to add to the general
     merriment. They even practiced a bit of warfare on their own
     sheep.

     Following our swift victory, we overcame the town of Timllh. The
     Conquest Balance declared that no further slaughter was necessary
     in this land.

                                      -28-


                               ONCE IN A BLUE MOON

                                    [MAP 5,5]

     I cam to miss the lobsterback ruffians that follow Jos the Red before
     I left this territory; even more did I miss the wretched warriors who
     stumble along ineptly after Rather Yellow Harold. The scurrilous
     scoundrels who follow the lead of Blue Jayne were all we encountered
     here, and they did nothing to soften my harsh estimation of their
     character.

     Emcidion fell with almost embarrassing ease; they would have
     surrendered to Rupert Battle-Sheep if they'd had the chance. Their
     rather portly Captain was so eager to please us that he offered to
     spy on the settlement of Futmmn. He located a boat, as he had to
     cross the one sea, then went on his merry way. His enthusiasm for
     treachery did not recommend him particularly, but it was good that
     his offer was accepted. Even then, and invasion was brewing.

                                      -29-


     Our spying Captain's intelligence warned us of the Blue approach; we
     went north to secure some seemingly abandoned boats. Waiting until
     their polluting tread sullied the beach, we attacked them without
     mercy. We recovered a goodly amount of food and boats from the
     carcass of their slain Captain, but barely had time to secure our
     grains before more Blues attacked from teh south. We dealt with them
     as we had with their loathsome kith, and left their bodies in the
     relentless surf.

     Before we left Emcidion behind, we decided to produce a catapult to
     assist us in our onslaughts.

     Futmmn was then brought to task for striking at my lord. We had food
     and boats aplenty, so we took none from this place, and we left some
     townspeople behind so they might inform others of the might of our
     arms. Mofofry was treated likewise. We crossed the seas of Togemit.
     This island was roaming with Jayne's hoards so we were always on the
     lookout. The miners of Togemit raised their picks against us only
     briefly; we then instructed them in the making of swords to show them
     what true warriors wielded. And then, Mwarboy, Ropoage, and Briery
     were ground beneath our ravishing stride. The Conquest Balance rarely
     tilted with the finality it did then.

                                      -30-


                                    DOLDRUMS

                                    [MAP 6,5]

     This territory represented something of a lull. Or perhaps my mood was
     just a bit grey. The attack on Licboler required no tactical
     improvisation or acts of valour (I found it hard to keep my eyes open
     during the contest), and was quickly won. Even taking all the men and
     food in town lent no invigoration. I daydreamed through the siege of
     Togcaning, was barely able to join the victory cry, and even found
     killing some sheep passed the time drearily. The conquest and
     harvesting of Myiogy overwhelmed me with deja vu. Lackaday!

                                      -31-


     The Blue attack on Myiogy from teh south added a destive note, and
     they were a formidable lot. We used the whole of our might to defend
     against their assult. The poverty of their Captain also spoiled the
     mood. I dragged myself to Heazarist, then around lakes to Huand,
     wearily recruiting and requisitioning all as we went. With the leaden
     steps of a sleep-walker, I lurched toward Jlly, my comrades seeming
     to float along beside me. Were the Blues who attacked us halfway there
     the gossamer wisps of a dream or actual foemen? Whatever they were, I
     killed my share. The Conquest Balance dropped its cup, and I finally
     got the sleep I needed so badly.

                                      -32-


                                 A MOVABLE FLEET

                                    [MAP 6,6]

     The ways of the sea are mysterious, and the men who sail it fear its
     intentions. That, at least, we have in common. If, as is claimed,
     the sea is haunted, then it is not just by the wandering souls of
     men. The ships that sail it also travel in ways cautious men do not
     try to investigate.

     Our invasion of Ropssral began this campaign on a successful note.
     Men, sheep, and food were found worthy of our use. We likewise
     favour Jbroman by accepting all it had to offer. These new recruits
     quickly proved my lord's estimation of them to be correct (what else
     could it be?) as they were instrumental in obliterating a Red attack.
     The Reds' leavings provided us with wnough food, but insufficent
     boats, for our full troop.

                                      -33-


     How does my lord see so far, beyond seas, beyond mountains, beyond
     horizons? It is a mystery, even to me. Yet he perceived food and
     boats aplenty in far Dtisse, and set sail for its unseen shore. This
     required us to leave behind several of our brothers to an unknown
     fate. To increase the chances of their remaining safe, my lord left
     them outside of Jbroman. As we sailed away, I watched them wander
     disconsolately on the beach until they were at last lost from sight.

     We did not take the most direct route; had we done so, we would have
     encountered a Blue armada that could have been our undoing. Dtisse
     was deserted by all but one ragged citizen when he reached it; it
     must have been the site of a great battle at some recent time for we
     found a beach littered with boats and a cache of food. We took all we
     found. Their coming was as timely as it was marvellous, for we were
     at theat moment attacked by Blue cutthroats. Our late-arriving
     brethren contributed much to our total victory.

     The rest of this territory we then conquered with ease.

                                      -34-


                                 SLASH AND GRAB

                                    [MAP 6,7]

     Finesse in battle is often lost on the Blues and Reds, even if you
     don't happen to kill them. Any engine of war more complicated than a
     bow is beyond the scope of their so-called minds. Their tactics
     usually consist of nothing more than slashing and grabbing.
     Primitive! Fun, but primitive.

     This territory was also dominated by Blues on the cutting edge of
     Blue technology (i.e., they had bows). We learned to change our
     posture here frequently as conditions and our lord dictated; not all
     villagers were unprepared for our coming. And while boats were not a
     necesity here, the numerous lakes puddling the landscape made having
     them a good idea.

                                      -35-


     We thought the simple ports of Whdgage and Fdglia could improve their
     fishing techniques under our tutelage, so they were brought under our
     administration. We were on the lookout for Jos' Reds as scouting
     reports indicated they were about. We borrowed their boats to
     demonstarte advanced fishing techniques, but found in the end we had
     to use them for military purposes. To ensure their trust, we brought
     the townspeople along so they might keep an eye on their property.

     Fueux fell happily into our hands, as did the hilltop settlemet of
     Josggand. My knowledge of Geology suggested that this community
     might be atop a rich vein of iron, and at my lord's neutral urging, a
     mine was constrcuted. Indeed, ferrous orse was tucked just beneath
     the topsoil. To celebrate the event, the hardworking Josgganders
     constructed many fine ceremonial swords and, with aggressive fervour,
     a cannon decorated with tableaux of our many victories. Swords and
     cannon, while able to stand scrutiny as objects d'art, also stood
     the test of the uses of war. They and the boats we were safeguarding
     were put to good use as we travelled a complicated route across
     the landscape to Whssman, Myeral, Brieene and Mylene, all of which
     provided us with the riches of their fields to fill our bellies and
     the flower of young manhood to fill our ranks. Thereupon we were able
     to safely liberate Mollen and Scria from the grasping hand of Blue
     Jayne. The drop of the positive side of the Conquest Balance
     confirmed her defeat.

                                      -36-


                                LIFE ON THE EDGE

                                    [MAP 7,7]

     During my university days, before an unfortunate misunderstanding led
     to revocation of my scholarship, confiscation of my books, and a
     death sentence, Geology was among my foremost areas of expertise. Had
     there been time, I would have studied the river-etched canyon that
     formed the central and most obvious feature of this territory. My
     travels around it were necessarily hurried during this visit,
     however, so I had no opportunity to analyze its strata.

     The ramshackle huts of Mynogth were the first to feel the fury of our
     war making. The Mynogths seemed truly grateful to accept enlistment
     into our now-legendary force, and offered up all their food as a
     token of appreciation. There were a number of boats ready for the
     taking here, but my lord indicated we shoudl pass them by for the
     time being.

                                      -37-


     The terrain around the canyon proved difficult to travel, and echoes
     resounding off the chasm's sheer walls were eerie and confusing.
     We thought we heard sounds of battle far to the north, but we could
     not be certain. It might just have been Rupert kicking rocks into
     the yawning rift as a prank. After many changes in direction, we
     reached and conquered Whied. The Whiedbodies had tired of a life on
     the edge of the canyon (the echoes kept them up at night) and were
     happy to enter the soldier's life. They brought along their food as
     well lest it topple into the gorge that was the source of their
     sleeplessness.

     Traveling to Licggeux allowed a much straighter path, but the presence
     there of a Blue army lessened our enjoyment of it. We let the Blue
     taste of our unbridled wrath, a last meal they found most bitter. We
     served Licggeux a sweeter repast, but in the end it was our hunger
     for conquest that was satisfied. Killing some sheep in Thanksgiving
     and exchanging booty in a spirit of comraderie, we set out for
     Ematasit; we left a few Licggeezers behind after they began to
     construct mines in our honour. Emataist was deserted, so we turned
     our attention to Mywarth. There were signs that Bluebellies had
     passed this way, but there was no telling when. Mywarth and Futien
     completed our set of conquests. The Conquest Balance declared that
     this contest was over.

                                      -38-


                        THE BATTLES AROUND GAUNTLET LAKE

                                    [MAP 8,7]

     The most notable geographic feature of this territory was the large
     freshwater lake in its centre. It to me looked rather like a mailed
     fist, so I named it Gauntlet Lake. We came to know its shores well as
     we liberated the settlements that surronded it from the yokes of Red
     and Blue tyranny. The first of these was Siwarise, a provincial
     backwater loyal to my lord in quick order, and we took their food into
     our care to prevent unnecessary spoilage.

     I was devising in my mind a bold campaign to capture the neighbouring
     hamlet of Maceage when my lord gave the order to march on Finbalral;
     this sounded like a marshy trek to me, but I learned later that a Red
     sun was rising in the west and would be set upon us soon enough.

                                      -39-


     My lord chose our target well, and the name Finbalral was soon added
     to our battle ribbons. No sooner had the Finbalraliers pledged to our
     sacred cause than the swinish minions of Jos the Red attacked us
     from across the lake. The sound of their paddling betrayed their
     coming and we slew them as they landed. Their swords made teh battle
     a deadly one, but we overcame them (it is our fate to rule, after
     all). We took their blades to turn them to the cause of virtue. We
     likewise turned their food to the cause of breakfast.

     Captain Vonoh of Finbalral warned us that a gang of Blue Jayne's
     torturers and fiends might be lurking to the west within the bloody
     walls of Haycedime. Rupert Battle-Sheep was ready to storm this
     bastion of azure woe, but torturers and fiends require a more subtle
     approach, and bloody walls retain a slickness that makes storming
     them troublesome. Vonoh's knowledge of the place recommended him as
     just the spy to penetrate Haycedime's secrets and observe its blue
     oppressors. So anxious was he to carry out this duty that he left
     forthwith, pallid and sweaty with anticipation.

     Swords at the ready, we marched on Mninise and Brinenen, both of
     which offered little more than passing sport for our whiling blades.
     Neither the Mninisie nor the Brinenen bled remarkably much when we
     overwhelmed them; such rapid coagulation recommended them highly for
     soldierly tasks, so we recruited them all. In the meantime, reports
     from Captain Vonoh assured us that Blue Jayne's wanton marauders
     remained awash in unwholesomeness within Haycedime. Now was the
     time to take their measure, and we had just the ruler to do so.

     Massacres are never pretty; then again, you don't stop to look at
     them much when you're in the middle of one. Haycedime was reduced
     after a savage battle. After that, only Beidboy and Jlland stood in
     our way. Jlland was empty after the depredations of the Blues and
     Reds. But the butchers of Bcidboy paid the same price as the
     harrowers of Haycedime. The Conquest Balance then tilted in our
     favour, and our revenge was complete.

                                      -40-


                              THE ENEMY OF MY ENEMY

                                    [MAP 8,8]

     If there is anything postive I have marked in the natures of Jos the
     Red's pestiferous thugs and Blue Jayne's noxious yahoos, it is that
     they are as likely to attack each other as they are to attack us. It
     makes them seem almost appealing. When they weaken each other in
     battle, so much the better for us. This territory allowed us to
     observe this mutual bloodshed. It is their only good habit. I should
     add, however, that as we approached our final conquests, both Blues
     and Reds attacked us somewhat more than they did each other, but
     never in alliance.

     We avoided Ropbety at the beggining of this campaign, as my lord
     thought its citizens might be tougher than they appeared. The bland
     appearance of the inhabitants of Tolguette concealed no warrior's
     mien, however, and it felt like a desiccated pomegranate

                                      -41-


     We recruited the bipedal population, but left the quadripedal
     population for a later reckoning, as our lord demanded haste in our
     travels. Ammem proved less amenable to conquest, however, and we
     needfully attacked with a whiff of aggression, inflicting a few
     instructive casualties on the stubborn Ammembers before they
     surrendered.

     My lord was unrelenting in his demand for lightning travel.
     Togferen and Hon were the next to fall, and both we left empty as
     we left quickly. My lord had selected Togoa as our next conquest
     (our forces would have become too spread out if we had attacked
     Mobaland). But to our delight we found that Blue and Red armies
     had met near the city, destroying each other in the process. Out of
     respect for their valour, we stripped the bodies of bows and food
     and promised to use them for the good of the people of this land,
     assuming they were on our side.

     The mining centre of Tottage was no match for our new found bows,
     and Whatas and Ropbety were no more challenging. The Conquest
     Balance dropped a shoulder, and all was well.

                                      -42-


                              A WAGONLOAD OF HINTS

                                    [MAP 9,8]

     (Archivist's Note: It was my duty to assemble this chapter from
     Ptarmigan Burlihoo's notes for the revised edition of ANNALS OF
     THE POWERMONGER. This was a challenging task. Except for the original
     parchment, all other copies of the ANNALS were lost when they were
     sold in lot to a fellow named Ououadage who represented himself as a
     bibliophile but actually operated a fish market in the piscivorous
     village of Slough. Ptarmigan's notes were very disjointed and
     confusing; for instance, I have no idea what the chapter's title
     refers to. Ptarmigan's habitual literary self-indulgence didn't help
     matters, either. Still, his writing, irritating though it may be, is
     the most thorough source of information we have on that long ago
     era. Other than that, I'm glad he's dead.)

                                      -43-


     To Vomdgist; take all food and men and kill some sheep. Hurry to
     Vonlyion, do same. Go toward Mywarral. Red army halfway to
     Mywarral; they will still be weakened from last battle, so attack
     them at Aggressive posture. Kill Reds, take food (they have no
     inventions). No need to go to Mywarral, Assral, or Das, they've
     been emptied & have no sheep or goodies. (But check Assral for boats,
     which you won't need.)
     Go to Brioa, Jostattte, and Headgem. Take men & food from each. Was
     enough.

     Recruiting

     Each tribe at the start of each land has certain characteristics.
     Some tribes walk faster, some tribes eat more food. When my lord
     notices this after I pointed it out to him by imitating their
     various gaits and table manners, it was of great advantage when
     deciding which people to recruit.

     Bowmen

     If bowmen were not hitting their targets, my lord issued his
     attack order from a different angle. For example, target a specific
     person or a nearby house.

     Transferring Troops during Battle

     Having two armies, one of which was in a battle and disgracing
     itself, my lord transferred some of the troops from the first army to
     the second army as reinforcements. This was a good surprise tactic
     as well.

                                      -44-


     Spy command as Escape Option

     If the tide of battle flowed ill, a Captain often attempted an escape
     by spying on something. His men attempted to retreat home to be
     recruited later. This did not work if said Captain was fighting hand
     to hand.

     Food Philosophy

     Each person in the world has a job and only certain jobs produce food
     for villages. Of farmers, merchants, fisherman and shepherds, only
     farmers and fisherman produce food for their villages. Unless you
     enjoy eating merchants, which has never appealed to me. Farmers will
     not produce food in Winter but will stay at home. Fishermen will
     produce year around. If a farmer has a plough, he will produce twice
     as much food. Each time a farmer returns home, he brings enough
     food for himself and one other person.

     In Winter when people are staying at home in their houses, they will
     eat more food to stay warm.

     If troops are in camp, they eat half the amount of food as when they
     are marching.

     Merchants carry food and equipment around from town to town,
     whether it is your town or an opponent's town. They are shameless
     mercenaries, by far their most winning characteristic. So if you see
     a merchant and you don't want him delivering food to others then kill
     him.

                                      -45-


     Enemies

     Beware of enemies wandering around your settlements or armies; they
     might be spies. Both the Power Monger and I learned this quickly.

     Armies and settlements are seperate entities. So if there is an enemy
     army camped in an enemy settlement, one can attack the army without
     the townsfolk joining in and spoiling the transaction with their
     unprofessionalism. The attack must be aimed very carefully, of course,
     and one's targeting must be precise.

     If the leader of a large wandering army is slain, his troops may all
     run to their homes. This can split a large force into two or more
     manageable portions that can be more easily defeated. Further, if the
     home they run back to was conquered by an opponent since they left it,
     the faithless rabble will change their allegience to that opponent,
     further diluting the power of their former side, and possibly adding
     to yours.

     Subordinate Captains

     My lord sometimes found that sending subordinate Captains toward our
     destination a little ahead of the main force was an efficacious
     manoeuvre, but he was ever careful not to sent them into battle by
     themselves; they'd die and he'd miss them. This sentimental side
     always endeared him to his men.

     Likewise, subordinate Captains provide good standby protection if my
     lord was attacked. If such subordinates have no troops assigned to
     them, they might be kept to the First Captain in case his person is
     insulted by the enemy while his troops are carrying out such
     assignments as Inventing.

                                      -46-


     Equipping Inventions

     Battle is a disconcerting experience, and sometimes distorts
     perception, especially when one is Equipping Inventions left behind
     by their recently deceased owners. Indeed, one may try to equip
     one invention, only to equip something else entirely. But if one
     perseveres, the desired invention will be equipped.

     Combat

     You cannot divide an individual Captain's forces in combat to execute
     complicated strategic manoeuvres; you have to use them in a bloc. But
     if several Captains have troops, they may be used to attack from
     multiple directions and thus divide the enemy. The PowerMonger
     employed this tactic several times after I suggested it to him in a
     private discussion.

     Inventions

     Boats are valuable Inventions to have equipped, but don't necessarily
     equip every one of them you see; walking along the shore and picking
     them up one by one can waste valuable time, either from a
     settlement's store or from the detritus left behind by slain enemy
     Captains.

     Watch for settlements at high altitudes where mines can be
     constrcuted. A clanging noise from such a settlement means that either
     a mine exists there and inventing is going on, or a mine is under
     construction.

     Food

     Keep soldiers well fed. If you don't maintain a good food supply, your
     men will be quickly overwhelmed by irresistible homesickness.

                                      -47-


     Watch your food consumption CAREFULLY; it is accelerated in some
     territories. Don't campaign in winter unless you have lots of food or
     you know large armies are wandering around. The slower movement rate
     in winter will make your food run out faster. Freezing cold and
     driving sleet wet the appetite.

     Movement & Speed

     Beware when crossing a body of water, or moving through terrain that
     is near a body of water. Any troops who aren't equipped with boats
     will lag behind or wander about dazedly when confronted by seas,
     lakes, rivers, lagoons, estuaries, etc. Even a relative puddle in
     your line of march can send a platoon or two reeling into the
     countryside. If you do not want to get caught in battle short-handed,
     make sure you plan your moves through the terrain appropriately;
     zig-zag when necessary.

     If you notice that your army is moving slowly, you can take measures
     to speed it up...sometimes. Rain or snow will cause an army to slow
     down and there's nothing you can do about it; you might consider just
     camping out until the weather clears. For unknown reasons, movement
     in some territories is slower than it is in others. But if you've
     been picking up everything that isn't tied down during your campaign,
     you're bound to go slower; carrying 30 boats and three cannons would
     impede anybody's progress. Mark a Captain's speed to make sure he
     isn't overburdened. If he is loaded up with a huge cache of
     inventions, drop some. Keep in mind that one may not have to drop
     everything to boost the First Captain's Speed up to the desirable
     level, and you can pick-up what you drop later.

     Any weapon you have equipped can be taken on a boat, so you won't have
     to leave your cannons or catapults behind when you cross water. These
     implements of destruction can even be used to bombard the shore while
     you're bobbing along.

                                      -48-


     Settlements & Towers

     You may find abandoned settlements here and there. Keep an eye on
     them: They may be repopulated later either through birth of new 
     citizens, Deranked troops from opposing armies, or refugees from
     armies whose Captains have been slain.
 
     If all the settlements in a territory are owned by one opponent, the
     craven wretch won't attack you until you take one of his settlemts.

     It was determined that if a settlement is attacked, Captains friendly
     to the ruler of that settlement will support the settlement if they
     are sufficently close by. So if you take a settlement and camp in or
     near it, and a force allied with the settlement's former overlord
     attacks the settlement, you'll get dragged into a fight.

                                      -49-


                               NO ONE IS INNOCENT

                                    [MAP 9,9]

     You never know where a recruitment drive might take you. Settlements
     provide the usual meadows for reaping soldiers; less populated fields
     are typically fallow. But rustic vales are sometimes fertile fields
     for harvesting enlistees or even conscripts. Indeed, some of these
     chaurls proved to be most able warriors. The image of callow farm
     youth rambling tawny pastures and trading chirrups with the merry
     lark is propaganda. When it comes to taking up the sword, few are
     genuinely unwilling. And on a battlefield, no one is innocent.

     We began this campaign with a passive, modest little attack on a
     small building called Deaand. The nearby municipality of Jeing

                                      -50-


     reckoned our endeavours to be provocative and came to express their
     displeasure. My lord ordered to increase our aggression as necessary,
     but not to kill too many of the Jeingites; he had other plans for
     them. After Jeing's insolent interference was turned away, we
     procured Deaand's food and men.

     But Jeing was still near to our hearts. We killed a few of their sheep
     as a demonstration of what was in store for them if they continued to
     resist. When we attacked their town itself, our little visual aid had
     done its work, and they succumbed to a passive approach. My lord urged
     haste in collecting Jeing's men, boats, and food; it was only later
     that he informed us a Blue army was at that moment crashing northward
     like a poisoned tide. If Jeing's Captain had not earlier, he could
     have sent a spy to these Jaynite filibusters. Rupert volunteered for
     the duty himself but was turned down. Even though he was a master of
     disguise as horn-bearing ungulates go, he would no doubt have been
     discovered and would have ended up bobbing in gravy among carrots.

     But even without the intelligence a spy could have provided, the doom
     of the Blue army was ensured when we took Jeing; as long as we
     recruited everyone we encountered, the manpower of Jayne's bully boys
     could never exceed our own. A sojourn to the fish hut called Headgh
     and Parogy town provided us with enough men, food, and conflict to
     maintain our interest. We were also careful to scan the countryside
     for any wandering individuals. A sweep through Hdgh, Remms farmhouse,
     and a few fishhuts increased our number until we were unstoppable.
     (I've always enjoyed being unstoppable; it does wonders for one's self
     esteem.) We had but one logical target left, the tower of Emiand. With
     the bows we had invented earlier, and an aggressive attitude to
     improve our aim, it fell quickly. The sweeter cup of the Conquest
     Balance swung low, and we were once again victorious.

                                      -51-


                                  WAITING GAME

                                   [MAP 9,10]

     Waiting is a soldier's lot, even more so than combat. He must wait for
     his commanders' decisions, he must wait for the weather to moderate,
     he must wait for his enemies. It sounds dreary, and often is, but it
     allows time for observation as well. In this territory, waiting
     offered us the delightful oppurtunity to watch our enemies decimate
     each other.

     We attacked Finod as our movement, and found the Finodes receptive to
     our overture. We quickly recruited the locals while our quartermaster
     recruited their edibles; our alacrity inspired second thoughts in a
     Blue army approaching at the time with the intent of attacking us, I'm
     sure. They camped sullenly while we expressed loud and exaggerated
     doubts concerning their hygiene. They departed in tears a short time
     later. We let them go so they could be tortured by their shame.

                                      -52-


     Our results in Finod were so encouraging that we decided to repeat
     ourselves in Fissand. Our accomplishments here were mixed: The
     conquest was simplicity itself, but there was only one Fissander
     present to recruit. We assured him we would enter into a holy crusade
     to liberate his former neighbours from their servitude to whatever
     foreign slave-master had spirited them away. Then we killed all his
     sheep. I hope he didn't think we were sending him mixed signals.

     Then the Blues made another in their chronic series of fatal errors.
     They attacked the Red capital of Aovery even though it was obvious
     they hadn't the strength to carry it. Many of our troops wished to go
     watch the fun, but my lord ordered us to the Blue base of Acidmit
     instead. We whiled away the time there playing cards and composing
     ribald songs until the battered Blues returned from their certain
     defeat. They were no match for us in their weakened condition, and in
     a trice they were not only defeated but in fact gave up the Blue tunic
     for the White. They would now learn the ways of the victor.

     Their first classroom was Whllh, where an army loyal to Jos was
     camped. They needed little encouragement from us to despise the poxy
     nematodes who served the cause of redness. It was a brief melee.
     Afterwards, we had to reclaim a few of our previous conquests south
     of Whllh, to make sure their new citizens remained loyal to my lord
     and had the inestimable opputunity to serve him.

     We next attacked Jos' foul seat at Aovery. Seat as in capital, that
     is. It collapsed like a diseased larch in a monsoon. The rest was beer
     and skittles. We freed Hmmtte from a Red army of occupation, and then
     swept Ber and Attem clear of ruddy detritus. The fleeing Reds made a
     last stand at Whllh, or at least tried to. Upon their inevitable
     defeat they fled to their homes, which were controlled by my lord.
     Learning this, they had no alternative but to join and become
     followers of Lord PowerMonger.

                                      -53-


                           WHITE KNIGHT TAKES RED KING

                                   [MAP 9,11]

     We passively attacked the town of Scrballia, tried and executed some
     seditious-looking sheep (who then became part of our provisions as
     further punishment), and recruited all the Scrballians. By the time
     we had reached Scrnoglia, they had all learned to march in step. As
     a reward for responding so quickly to training, we let them watch
     the fight between Jos and Emgges of Macciding. After the two armies
     had decimated each other, we attacked aggressively and killed Jos
     and Emgges, and their remnants of their haughty hosts. (If we hadn't
     killed Jos with some dispatch, he could have given orders to other
     units in the landscape. We later learned, however, that Jos was not
     quite as dead as we thought.)

     Scrnoglia then laid helpless (as well as unpronounceable) before us,
     and was taken easily and without aggression. All the Scrnogalerts
     were eager to join our number (they were impressed, I think) and
     their

                                      -54-


     food and equipment was likewise accepted into our lord's service. As
     my lord despises littering, we also spruced up the battlefield by
     picking up what food and equipment we could find there. We did not
     tarry there for long in case other Red or Blue contingents were on
     their way to investigate the fates of their overdue comrades. Leaving
     Scrnoglia, we went thither some distance to rest. Once refreshed, we
     next overwhelmed the settlement of Macwartte. My lord wondered at the
     quality of Macwartty handicrafts, and was duly impressed by the pikes
     he had the Macwarts fashion for him.

     Then Rupert Battle-Sheep baaed an alarum; we had almost been surprised
     by a sea of Blue uniforms. And at their head was Jayne III herself!
     Even their sovereign in command, the Blues were overwhelmed by our
     pikemen. Ruler and ruled alike died on the cruel points of our
     weapons. We rejoiced at the fall of our master's great antagonist; now
     surely all the Blue forces would be immobilized, and overcome with
     ease.

     The battlefield was cleansed of all that we might use, and all
     Macwarts were conscripted for the remainder of our stay here. We
     learned of Jayne's tower stronghold called Sifofise and it was decided
     that it, too, must be purged of the pollution of it's late mistress.
     So disconcerted were the Blue remnants that they fell to a passive
     atatck. After a rest, we made for Macciding. It was conquered rather
     casually. Upon seeing our Macwart-made pikes, the Maccidinglings were
     consumed by jealousy. To prove their own superiority in handicrafts
     they fashioned fine bows for our use and even a fearsome catapult. The
     Red circle at Vombolion was broken into random parabola by its awful
     missles, and the tower of Fferes crumbled also.

     The capital of Molyr was last to fall, conquered almost as an
     afterthought, and surely with passive demeanour. The sweeter cup of
     the Conquest Balance descended with the surrender of Molyr's last
     defender.

                                      -55-


                          CAPTAINS AND THE KINGS DEPART

                                   [MAP 9,12]

     I hate to miss a good battle. Carnage, suffering, and dying gasps
     provide me with some of my best source material. I'm sentimental that
     way. My early experience in this territory led me to believe I was
     gathering the best research to be had hereabouts, but later reports
     informed me I had missed some quite delightful and picturesque
     massacres. Oh well.

     First, we attacked Jnogise passively, which defended itself just as
     passively, so we carried the day. The Jnognese sheep proved just as
     nonchalant about life and death and seemed unperturbed as we killed
     them for food. Adding the provisions of the town to this plethora of
     fresh mutton and lamb, we had nearly 3000 units of provisions.

                                      -56-


     We couldn't have eaten that much by ourselves without feeling
     gluttonous, so we decided to share it with our former caretakers by
     accepting them as fellow Legionnaires.

     After a hearty meal of mutton sandwiches, we attacked Scrbalsh. While
     I usually hate to make aggressive war on a full stomach, I nonetheless
     did so when ordered by my lord. The size of the Scrbalshian encampment
     of Blue Jayne's fanatics left us no choice. Many of them fell, as did
     a few of my brothers-in-arms. In the end, the Blue hooligans
     surrendered, the few of whom survived taken into our number.

     It was then that we first heard of the remarkable events that
     transpired in this territory just before our arrival. The Captains of
     Rather Yellow Harold had formed armie, and then in warfare with the
     Red and Blue blackguards almost everyone had been obliterated. All
     native Captains were slain, and only a few stragglers survived. The
     Yellows retained the only viable (if small) army. By the time we
     reached Scrbalsh, the war's refugees had returned to their homes to
     reconstruct their shattered lives. My lord decided to shatter them a
     bit more before the season turned.

     The Yellow army was thought to be in Whqueria, where we hastened to
     congratulate them on their victory and demobilise them as soon as
     possible. Yellow survivors were indeed found there, but the remaining
     army had conquered Jnogise and our homebase. The men called for
     vengeance against such rudeness, but my lord counselled patience. He
     believed they would return. They did, after which they neither won,
     nor survived, any more battles.

     Then it was just a matter of mopping up the survivors from Emoogy,
     Rellboy and Emees. We thought we had won, and the Conquest Balance
     confirmed the surmise.

                                      -57-


                                   POISON PEN

                                   [MAP 9,13]

     (The following is adapted from the text of a maddeningly arrogant
     letter from that shrieking harpy, Blue Jayne. I have added Editor's
     Notes to correct errors and provide commentary.)

     To: The "PowerMonger"
     From: Her Most Cobaltine Majesty, Jayne IV

     Greetings. Your usurpations begin to amuse us. I take it from the
     scribblings of your rather over-florid scribe you think me twice dead,
     but there are many of me. Slay me as you wish, rend my flesh, shatter
     my bones, drink the spurting blood hot from my opened veins; in the
     end, it is you who will perish. (Editor's Note: Over-florid!)

                                      -58-


     How shall I let you know how closely and precisely I follow your
     movements? Would a recounting of your most recent campaign suffice?
     First, you attacked Bridgist with extreme violence, afterward stealing
     every crumb and kidnapping the peasants. (Editor's Note: Our attack
     was passive; her other comments are not entirely accurate, either.)
     Your thirst for blood unquenched, you indulged in the massacre and
     pillaged Timiboy. (Editor's Note: Another passive attack that everyone
     survived.) Not even the sheep were left alive! One poor creature was
     tortured to death, his skull crushed with a plough! (Editor's Note:
     That was Rupert, of course, and he was only sleeping.)

     Back at Bridgest you sought more men and invented a fiendish implement
     of destruction. (Editor's Note: It was only a catapult.) I sent a lone
     peace envoy to suggest an end to the carnage, but he was murdered in
     cold blood. (Editor's Note: He was alone with an army and there was
     nothing cold about the way we killed him.) The food and boats that
     should have gone to his widow and children you instead claimed as
     booty. As if that weren't enough, you raped Timiboy one more time.
     (Editor's Note: I wouldn't call taking food and one little boat
     "rape".)

     Your cruel tyranny and looting was then visited upon Macdgboy, where
     you depleted the place of its stores. (Editor's Note: We settled down
     for a good meal near Abrom.) After that I could stand no more!
     (Editor's Note: About time!) My personal guard was patrolling a
     coastal area when I ordered them to put an end your wanton cruelty.
     You defeated them, but only through the foulest of tactics. (Editor's
     Note: Which is to say, we fought better than they did.)

     You committed your next atrocities in Abrom, stealing every scrap of
     food and slaughtering a troop of underpriveleged Blue youths on a
     nature study in the bargain. (Editor's Note: They were soldiers,

                                      -59-


     of course.) Using the foulest propaganda measures, you managed to
     sway the more gullible of my soldiers into joining your fell army.
     You then walked off with Abrom's finest technological wonders and
     returned to Bridgest for some unholy celebration. There you found
     that a small troop you had left behind had "killed" me. As you
     gathered the food and boats from my "corpse," I was laughing at you
     the whole while! (Editor's Note: She has an unconventional sense of
     humour, I'll give her that.)

     Next, you used passive attacks to add the following settlements to
     your menu of carnage: Whnogeme, Tolan, Brizarr, Tower Briwarmit, and
     Myaboy. All of these offered up some men and provisions, which you
     then threw against Toloveeux. This last was the site of your greatest
     act of barbarism as you slew an encampment of Blue maidens gathering
     flowers for their grandmothers. (Editor's Notes: They were soldiers,
     they were gathering nothing but dust, and I doubt they could trace
     their ancestary as far back as their grandparents. We attacked on
     neutral.) Thereupon, your dark victory was sealed.

     (Editor's Note: What an unpleasant woman.)

                                      -60-


                                   DISCIPLINE

                                  [MAP  10,13]

     Discipline has never been a problem in my lord's forces. Even the
     greenest recruit who had seen us destroy his home and liveliehood
     understood the military necessity of doing so and was later ready (and
     occasionally eager) to repeat the exercise elsewhere. If discipline
     ever came close to breaking down, it was from the enthusiasm our
     forces had for the cause, and not because of any flaws in their
     training.

     There was nothing remarkable about this territory. Our first target,
     Tolbaleme, was taken with tolerable ease, men were recruited and food
     was accepted without incident, and a rather portly Captain joined us.
     After a period of rest to get acquainted with our new comrades, we
     turned our attention to Whcidd. The Whcidders' stubbornness required
     a moderately strident attack, which was quickly modified to passivity
     when their reluctance began to crumble.

                                      -61-


     Soon there was more food, more men, another Captain, alughtered sheep,
     you know the pattern by now. The Whcidd Captain warned of dark deeds
     afoot in Jtarty, and so was sent there as a spy to investigate.

     While my lord's agent attempted to ingratiate himself with the
     Jtatrians, our lord directed us to Togish. It was overcome in a
     routine operation, and its resources were exploited in a routine
     manner. A third Captain joined us, which was a little out of the
     ordinary. My lord left in him in Togish with orders to react
     aggressively if the need arose.

     In the meantime, that undying virago Jayne III was combining her
     forces from Tolbolise, Finataed and Han. While we attacked Togish, she
     had engulfed Whcidd into her empire. The insatiable Blue harridan then
     attacked Tolbaleme, and then Togish; but my lord PowerMonger had by
     now devised a brilliant plot to counter and defeat her.

     As Blue Jayne attacked helpless Togish, my lord sent us to camp near
     Jtatry. Some in our camp broke ranks to go rescue the unoffending
     settlement, but my lord called upon the discipline he had taught them
     and called them back from what would have been a certain defeat. The
     Captain of Togish was captured in the melee, and he the joined the van
     of the Blue witch as she turned her cold, hungry eyes on Jtatry.

     She had tried to do too much, Jtatry was left to fall into her hands,
     but we then attacked the settlement ourselves. The beating she had
     inflicted upon them had left them weak, and the settlemet was ours in
     a trice. We the immediately attacked the Blue army aggresively; they,
     too, were still recovering from battle, so they were slaughtered. If
     we had attacked them while they were fit, as some overzealous recruits
     had wished to do, their superior weapons would have been our undoing.

     Our faith in our lord PowerMonger was again proven well-founded when
     the Conquest Balance tilted after the Blue army was slain.

                                      -62-


                              OUR FAME PRECESES US

                                   [MAP 11,13]

     Word, as they say, spreads fast. When we arrived in this foreign
     place, we found that the enlightened population of Aitth had already
     declared for our cause. But this was not the first place we visited.

     My lord granted Mowara his first audiece. Their resistance to his
     message was brief. We removed a quantity of food from the settlement
     to determine its wholesomeness, but the people we left behind, if
     only for the movement. We also took three boats so corsairs might not
     use them for piracy, and looked for more as we travelled along the
     coast.

     The welcome we recieved in Sitth made all our hard campaigning seem
     worthwhile. Our larders were almost bare when we arrived, so we took
     all the settlement's food, which they seemed glad to give.

                                      -63-


     The Sitthians also told us of more food and a pile of boats that a
     Yellow Captain dropped north of Futcanion. We found it necessary to
     wait until the Blue marauding army from the north was occupied in
     attacking Heabroage before we grabbed the formerly Yellow possessions.

     In his generosity, our lord did not want to deny the men of Nowara the
     glory of combat, so we returned to the settlement. Meanwhile, the Blue
     army was besieging Whffral, leaving their recent conquest Heabroage
     ripe for plucking. And plucked it was, although the Blue army came to
     their rescue as we slew them with gusto.

     After a whirlwind campaign through Whffral, Futcanion, Hayette, and
     Finsasr (Futcanion was deserted except for some unusually tasty sheep)
     we encountered a lone enemy Captain wandering the countryside. His
     suicidal attack impressed us by its valour and we did him homage after
     cutting him into bits. The ragtag remnants of a Blue army appeared,
     and we dispatched them with equal respect. The Conquest Balance avowed
     the completeion of our strivings here.

                                      -64-


                               PTARMIGAN AGONISTES

                                   [MAP 12,13]

     My name is Belshezar. I am writing this for Ptarmigan, who was
     "wounded in the last battle" and claims he cannot hold a quill to
     write with. He does not know that I know his hand was injured when
     that crazy ram he keeps as a pet bit him when he tried to take a
     chicken leg from it. Writers! Give me the old barbaric preliterate
     days anytime. Maybe if I write this down for him he'll quit his
     whining. I'm just scribbling down most of what he says - he uses a
     lot of words I can't spell and would not care to learn to.

     These are his words (most of them):

     Attacked Futtatboy passively, get food and men aggressively. Rested.

     Attacked Ftatria passively, get food ad men aggressively. Rested.

                                      -65-


     Blues sent out a scout who conquered our homebase and then started to
     go to Ftatria. Killed them, grabbed his food and about a score of
     boats. In the meantime, a Blue army conquered Futtatboy and was making
     it's way to Futatria. Our men were spurred into battle by the attack,
     but Lord PowerMonger called them back since they were outnumbered.
     Attacked lone Blue Captain called Bribroman instead. Grabbed all his
     food and equipment as before.

     The Blue army then left Futatria to attack a Red-owned city called
     Deggh. We attacked them while they were weak and defeated them. We
     proceeded to attack the city while the yellow and red armies were
     fighting; they had exhausted each other so we won. We camped in the
     centre of the city. Then the Red Captain wandered home and attacked.
     We killed him, getting much food and equipment. Also got all the food,
     men and equipment from the city.

     Went to Relyry which has been attacked (by Blues?) and were only a few
     men there. Killed all the sheep in this area after conquering
     settlement.

     There was a fairly large army now advancing towards Deggh. We attacked
     them aggressively and killed them all. We got the slain Captain's food
     and picked up all the boats.

     Then it was just a matter of defeating, grabbing all the food, men and
     equipment from the remaining towns: Boer, Brinien, Brillish, Pareth,
     and Siwarria.

     That is all Ptarmigan said. And this is all I, Belshazar, can write.
     My hand is cramping and must hurt more than Ptramigan's. I don't know
     how he does it. Perhaps all his talking strengthens the muscles used
     in writing as well as his flapping jaw.

                                      -66-


                           WORDS OF PEACE, ACTS OF WAR

     Again, I am moved to interrupt my commentaries on our brilliant
     campaigns to cast greater light on the details that ensured their
     success.

     First, I offer a summary of the unpleasant mechanics of killing. We
     are discussing war, after all. It was ever my fantasy that our enemies
     might be overcome by the power of our eloquence; alas, dreaming could
     not make it so. Briefly, a pikeman can kill two unarmed people, a
     swordsman can kill four unarmed people, a bowman can kill one person
     no matter what weapon they have, and artillery such as a cannon or
     catapult kills everybody in a small area.

     Catapults and cannons were our most effective weapons, but could only
     be used by Captains, and were a long time in the making. It took one
     year for one person to forge one, although naturally it took two
     people one/tenth the time. It was futile for a subordinate Captain to
     carry more than one unless it was his lord's intent that he transport
     it to another subordinate. The destructive power of such artillery
     could blast houses and workshops into slats; if a workshop was
     destroyed, all the inventions in the shop would be destroyed as well.
     Left to their own devices and faced with the draft alternative, the
     villagers rebuilt their houses, and sometimes decided to build
     workshops even though there may not have been one there in the first
     place.

     When we projected our force upon a settlement, we bore in mind the
     following tactics. If we attacked from the sea, the villagers were not
     to be able to reach us unless they had boats. This assumed, of course,
     that we had bows and arrows to attack from a distance. All that should
     be obvious. What might be more obscured is that villagers will go

                                      -67-


     towards their workshop to pick up any weapons stored there. It was
     thus our practice to get as close to the village as possible to
     surprise them and prevent them from getting to their weapons.

     Once we defeated a village, our ungrateful new fellow citizens always
     seemed dissatisfied. To sweeten their humours (whenever it seemed
     necessary), we would give them food. If we did otherwise, they would
     often turn traitorous, or even go to the extreme of joining another
     tribe. And if we left them surplus equipment in a settlement, the
     cunning yokels would automatically pick them up if they had a use for
     it.

     Attacking armies travelling overland was a more hazardous endeavour
     as we were never certain how many of these brigands were equipped with
     weapons. It is likewise a brave soul who attacks a Captain who has a
     cannon or a catapult because one of these weapons can literally wipe
     out an entire army with one salvo.

     After an enemy Captain was vanquished but not killed, he would always
     return home, whereupon he bacame one of my lord's Captains if we had
     previously absorbed his settlement or tower into our enlightened
     commonwealth. Happily, our soldiers would never attack someone who is
     running away, even when mistakenly urged to do so.

     It's a good idea to have half your men equipped with bows and the
     other half equipped with pikes.

     If you are faced with an army of bowmen, try and instigate the attack
     in the trees since foliage will offer cover for your men.

     If you've been playing a particularly long game then the people in
     your army can grow old and feeble. If they are over 60 years old, you
     will notice them start to slow down. If they reach the age of 80, they
     will seek to leave your army and go back home to die. So think about
     replacing your army with younger, more robust troops.

                                      -68-


     Nothing expedited making an alliance quite so much as the high opinion
     of a prospective ally. Thus anything we were carrying when an offer of
     an alliance was made was given over in the form of a tribute.

     This is totally non-refundable. And once you have attacked an aligned
     partner, then the alliance is immediately broken and you have very
     little chance of reforging that alliance again.

     Forming alliances proved to be of mixed eddicacy. It enabled us to
     trade for better weapons, a less strenuous practice than taking them
     as booty, and to maintain an ample supply of food. And in territories
     where local populations had not yet learned the fulfilment to be had
     by catering to our every whim, having a safe place where we could fall
     back, minister to my lord's hurts, and gather our wits about us was
     often the difference between victory and its bleak alternative.

     Alliances also had their contraty aspects. When a tribe with whom an
     alliance had been struck took over or already controlled a large part
     of their native territory, we were inevitably obliged to break the
     alliance and confront the ambitious bumpkins on the field of battle.
     If these erstwhile comrades had been busy conquering land and
     gathering resources, the resulting negotiations were all the more
     frank and lacerating.

                                      -69-


                         NEVER SHOW A MONKEY YOUR TONGUE

                                   [MAP 13,13]

     I believe I have previously mentioned my absolute faith in
     superstition. Not that I approach it uncritically; I obey only those
     superstitions whose effacy I have observed first hand. I never carry
     salt in my hat, I never extinguish candles in a vat of broth, and I
     never show a monkey my tongue. Nor have I broached the greatest of all
     prohibitions, killing all the sheep in a territory. And look where I
     am today, having attained high station and rank as a result of
     avoiding these dreaded taboos.

                                      -70-


     Some think of reincarnation as superstition, but this is not so. If a
     person is killed, they will be reborn, but not necessarily in the same
     village from which they came. And the requirments for rebirth are not
     that different than those for birth: A person will only be reborn if a
     husband and a wife are in the same house at the same time. So if all
     the men or women from all the villages are recruited into an army,
     then no people can be reborn in that village no matter how many have
     died.

     The issue of superstition arose in this campaign since it takes place
     in a territory our maps reckoned as being 13 measures to the eats and
     13 measures to the south. Some of my less sophisticated comrades
     thought this to be the worst possible luck. Being rather educated, I
     know it is just the opposite. As long as everything said about this
     territory is written in the present tense, that is. 

     Attack Togferboy passively, you will only just win, but will get a
     second Captain. Get all the food, send the second Captain to spy on
     Futoing. A lone Blue Captain called Diing will attack you while you
     are in Togferboy, kill him and grab his food and equipment. Send your
     army to camp near Moataeme, and wait. A few armies will pass you by
     without giving you a second glance.

     Wait until Moataeme is uninhabited and attack. Then nearby on the
     coast a Red Captain has been ambushed and killed by a Blue army. Kill
     the Blue army and its leader and grab all his food and equipment. Go
     to Futbros and conquer it. It is uninhabited and so causes no
     problems. Invent a catapult and equip it. Go to Moataeme where
     survivors are returning and are joining your army as the city is now
     owned by you.

     Get all the men from Moataeme and go camp near Futoing. Attack Futoing
     and using a combination of passive and neutral postures get all the
     food and men from Futoing.

                                      -71-


     Now the next target is Hqueion. On the way there, pick up as many men
     from all your cities and any food, weapons that you come across on
     the way. (There is a bow, some food and some boats to the south west
     of our homebase.) Attack Hqueion. Get food and men from Hqueion. Go
     and camp outside your homebase.

     The final battle. There are two Red armies camped outside the tower,
     and a Blue army that owns the tower. The first catapult fire will
     kill the Red Captains as well as the entire Blue army that is camped
     within the tower. The Conquest Balance is quick to declare our
     victory.

                                      -72-


                              PTARMIGAN RUNS SHORT

                                   [MAP 13,14]

     Shortage of paper when written. Making do with birch bark. Must be
     brief. Writing will lack artistry. I weep.

     Attacked Moggage passively. Army was camped there but no competition.
     Food. Men. Subordinate Captain. He slouches.

     Red devils of Jos from Robeteux attack. Arrows, bows, death from
     above. Reds slain but not before Subordinate Captain falls valiantly.
     Dropped much food and more than 20 boats he was carrying. Explains
     poor posture. Got boats, bows.

                                      -73-


     Rebeteaux paid for crimes. Taken in battle. Men enlisted, food taken,
     sheep killed, Rupert sheared. More comfortable now.

     Danger! Peirl! Raiding party from Moggage attacked. Killed them,
     killed them all. Got their food, more bows and boats. Practiced
     archery. Didn't go fishing.

     Went to Whssth. Two people, no vowels, no resistance, some food.

     Reds camped outside Jffy. Only 16 Reds, attacked them passively.
     Complete victory, survivors returned home to Whssth. Learned my lord
     was now their ruler, joined our side. Much rejoicing as my lord
     promised to grant them a vowel for their city as soon as possible.

     Learned of red tower called Emttes. Many Reds, but fewer then us.
     Rested, attacked passively, won. Conquest Balance proclaimed our
     victory. No need to attack Blue Jayne's city; cost might have been
     terrible.

     Found paper. Finally. Just in time for the final battle.

                                      -74-


                             THE STORM AND THE CROWN

                                   [MAP 13,15]

     When did I truly lose my former home? A year ago? A decade? It is
     almost lost to memory; even my vaguest dreams seem more tangible now.
     Did I have life then, or was I born when I dragged myself along that
     beach so long ago, and a violent sky bellowed to my lord of a new
     realm? My old life ended as it sank from view beneath waves thick and
     bitter with dissolving ash. This new life would truly begin only when
     the final battle was over and the promise of the storm was kept. And
     that battle was soon to come, somewhere in this isolated corner of the
     world. Our 27th conquest would be last one we would need to
     accomplish.

                                      -75-


     Our terminal campaign began in Hllogy. Even in defeat, the Hllogists
     attempted to thrawt us by hiding five sheep in a barn; Rupert saw
     through this and rammed the barndoor to expose their flimsy ruse. The
     sheep were slaughtered before the eyes of the felonious herders and a
     stern warning was issues. They were also taken into service to purge
     them of their contrariness.

     It was hard to rest with the bouquet of final victory succulent upon
     the zephyr, but my lord ordered that we conserve our strength.
     Refreshed, we marched upon Jfery and secured it against only a modicum
     of resistance. No sooner had the Jferians joined our cause and made
     the appropriate offering of food than a band of Jayne's carrion-crows
     appeared with blue murder in their eyes. Their hearts seemed not to
     contain their eyes' murderous aspect, however, for they fled without a
     fight. We sent only derisive laughter to follow them as we took some
     rest, finding some diversion from battle in piecing together a sturdy
     catapult.

     My lord guided us next to the enviorns of Mbalion. We imitated the
     action of the tiger, watchful, silent, and deadly as we observed the
     poisoned witch Blue Jayne form an army of corrupt Mbalionites. Then we
     sprang, and gathered in the prey for the kill. None survived our
     pounce. The dreags of Mbalion were likewise defeated, but allowed to
     live to they might serve us their food and surrender their equipment
     in a humiliating ceremony.

     Red Jos decided at this point to test our resolve as well. His fleet
     landed north of Mbalion, and we hastened there lest they have time to
     fortify their beachhead. Never have I seen the battle light shine so
     fiercly in the eyes of my lord's minions as I did on that day. We left
     the Red host to be food for crabs and gulls, took their meagre
     leavings, and built a sandcastle as mockery of Jos' ever fleeting
     power.

                                      -76-


     We began to surge over the landscape, restless and relentless as the
     storm that drove us onto that distant beach so long ago. We fell upon
     Coveen like burning hail, consuming all that we touched. After
     resting, we precipitated on Tolbroer much the same manner. Gathering
     all the men, food, and boats we could, we pointed our prows towards
     Tocidry's loathy enviorns. Sweeping over the unsuspecting
     settlement as a tempest-swollen river bursts through weakened levees,
     the flood that was my lord's army swept away men, food, a catapult.
     And when that catapult mimicked the lightning as we attacked Jbalion,
     the Conquest Balance tilted one last time, slowly, as if exhausted
     from weighing out victory after victory.

     The promise that had been made on that beach long ago to a landless
     ruler.

                                      -77-


                                    EPILOGUE:

     THE COLORS FADE

     I retired from my lord's army soon after he was crowned, but not from
     his service. Accepting appointment as his poet laureate and paramount
     censor, I spent the next several decades composing poetic tributes to
     my lord's past victories. Now, I, the chronicler of those campaigns,
     am their last veteran.

     All my old comrades in arms have gone to their reward. Even Rupert
     Battle-Sheep, fiercest of the ruminants, passed from the scene. He
     grew near-sighted with the passing years, and put away his
     plough-helmet. One day, he saw what he believed to be a Josian trooper
     standing bold as you please in a public square, brazen in his scarlet
     tunic. With a savage bleat, Rupert charged his ancient foe.
     Tragically, what Rupert had myopically observed was a bullfight, a
     colourful sporting event adapted from a quaint Josian warcrime. Some
     silly fellow was standing in the middle of an arena, waving a red cape
     at a bull in a manner I assume bulls find irksome. At any rate, Rupert
     and the bull simultaneously converged on the provocative garment at
     breathtaking velocities. The impact killed Rupert instatly. The bull
     died several days later without regaining conciousness. The fellow
     with the cape was so shaken by the experience that he retired to a
     cave for a quiet life of contemplation and vegetarianism.

     I was inconsolable when I heard of my comrade's fate. My grief poured
     itself out in a cycle of sonets that still makes even the most
     down-to-earth sheep farmers weep when they hear it recited. They weep
     because they hate it so profoundly, but I enjoy the intensity of their
     Response nonetheless.

                                      -78-


     I buried Rupert in a field of sweet clover on a windswept hill, where
     the silver rain falls gently and the golden sun shines warmly,
     adjacent to a swift rushing stream fragrant with the run-off from a
     nearby slaughterhouse. I knew he would have wanted it that way.

     Call me sentimental, but it was too hard for me to bid Rupert farewell
     without keeping some momento, some token of our now legendary
     campaigns. I had been searching for some time for just the right
     length of parchment and vellum upon which to enscribe my epic poem.
     No stationer had what I was seeking. It occured to me that no other
     surface would be as worthy to bear the record of my exploits as the
     scraped, stretched, ad bleached hide of my woolly comrade.

     So the great masterpiece of my career was enscribed using the finest
     blended inks on the meticulously prepared hide was everything I had
     hoped it would be, soft, supple, yet sturdy enough to resole a pair of
     boots (which I did using a leftover scrap, with the utmost respect and
     gravity).

     But the larger piece bears my epic. I cannot read it myself now (curse
     these dim eyes that once shone so brightly!), and few now frequent the
     dusty corner of the archives where it is shelved. People nowadays have
     no interest or respect to spare for bygone triumphs, Insolent young
     scallions!

     Then again, perhaps it is unaviodable that my story will be forgotten.
     Perhaps ancient war stories share the same fate: They just fade away.

                                      -79-


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                            Cluebook by Michael Humes
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                  (C) 1991 Electronic Arts. All rights reserved

                                      -80-



                              Finally, the END....