Iron and Blood and Whiskey (Closed ~ TG if interested)

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Iron and Blood and Whiskey
Vionna-Frankenlisch in the new decade.

"Vionna-Frankenlisch and her Empire has won an eternal place in the history books of the world. Imperial glory has been achieved by the strength of Iron and Blood and Whiskey."
- Alexander II, King of Vionna-Frankenlisch and Grand Imperator

This thread is a place where affairs internal to Vionna-Frankenlisch and the Empire will be housed. Anything I have written which is not directly related to other threads will be posted here. This may include mini-plotlines which are unrelated to the overall national story or things of greater military, political or economic importance. I'd deeply appreciate people's opinions on what I post here and I welcome anyone who wants to get involved in the plotlines written here (and I encourage people to ask me how they may involve their characters).

I've run out of things to write here but I'm sure this opening post will be added to as things go on. Enjoy!

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Contents
-
Lord Henwyn's Folly
1. Courthouse
2. Letter
-
Match of the Day
1. Erin Duchy 2 - Adeleux 1
2. New Grythshead 1p - Cathena 1
-
Tales of Toffs and Tradesmen
1. Entrapment

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

“Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to Match of the Day. This football programme is presented by Sir Allistair O'Keith and John Matlock. This two-hour show will delight you with the exciting moments of this matchday including, highlights, an exclusive media interview, and an uncut film of one of today’s football matches with commentary from our presenters. Whether you are watching this on a home projector, or at a cinema or public house, please do enjoy today’s Match of the Day.”
- Voiceover by Ian Walken, played at the start of each Match of the Day film

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Today commenced the 2021 season of the Imperial Cup and things are off to a flying start. The first four matches of the competition have been played and the infamous First Round is over with some exciting results. Let us take a look at three exciting highlight reels before we enjoy our featured game on this Match of the Day.

Caledonia Princedom 1 - Geldport 0

In a fixture marred by a series of injuries, the Thistles dominated Geldport to secure the win and a place in Round 2. Throughout the match Caledonia took a modern approach, playing five midfielders to keep control of the ball. In the fifty-fourth minute, forward James McLoach turned this domination into victory with a courageous strike from twenty yards.

From the kickoff, this match was a bloody one. The hardy mariners of Geldport fought hard to gain the advantage over their opponents from the southernmost isle. The first injury took place in the eleventh minute, with Caledonia’s stout centre-back Johnnie Walker taken off with a broken nose after a hard clash with Geldport’s Maxime Lefelier. Lefelier himself was seen off when a tackle by Alexander McCall swept him off his feet and sent him tumbling into the stands. A poorly-timed punch for the ball by Geldport’s keeper, Francois Recherche, almost saw a penalty awarded to Caledonia as it made contact with James McLoach. The referee, John Maxston, allowed the matter to drop when Recherche promised his opponent a pint following the match.

This result sees Caledonia moving forward to face Larkinge County in Round 2, a fixture which is sure to be a tough challenge but perhaps not impossible for wonder-manager Billy McFielding.

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Loukussa 0 - Vladimirska 4

A strong performance by Boris Penchikoff’s team saw them deal a heavy defeat to the reigning champions of the Prodavan League. Loukussa fans saw a result they’d prefer to forget as, with only ten men, the north Prodavan team conceded four goals to Vladimirska.

Though initially seeing Vladimirska on the defensive, desperately scrambling to avoid conceding, Prodava could not keep up the pressure and, in the twenty-fifth minute, a hand-to-ball incident involving striker Rashid Koroman saw the 21-year-old sent from the pitch in ignominy. A series of snap substitutions saw Loukussa manager Michael Morton replace his entire midfield, clearly intending to play a more defensive game from that point on.

Morton’s changes seemed to be working as the commanding presence of Ali Alibe fought off multiple attempts on goal by Dmitri Nabukoff. However, once halftime had been observed, the Loukussa defence evaporated in the face of a refreshed Vladimirska midfield. Quentin Forsyth, Vladimirska’s recent signing from Gestoria, put the away team ahead after five minutes. Any attempt by Loukussa to get back in the game was hampered by their lack of attacking players. Vladimirska’s victory was crowned by a hat-trick by Nabukoff, each strike topped off with a shot of vodka.

Next for Vladimirska is the Espicutan side Aquilla. A fine team with plenty of flair, Aquila may frustrate the heroes of the north-west or find themselves pushed aside. No matter the result, this Round 2 fixture will prove to be a hotly-contested one.

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Royal Barbican 1 - Homewood AFC 2

In a surprise result at Barbican Park, Zeonese newcomers to the Imperial Cup, Homewood AFC, emerged victorious over the Frankenlisch club. The Cannoneers, tired from recent Crown League fixtures, were unable to break down a stonewall defence by the Zeonese challengers and came home empty-handed after a gruelling 99 minute game on a rainy afternoon.

Led by centre-back Elzy Burroughs, who wore the captain’s armband, George Stuart’s newcomers found their feet in an uneventful first half. Mitchell Proudman, Barbican’s new manager, made several substitutions at halftime which have been heavily criticised by fans. These included the debut of sixteen-year-old defensive midfielder Stuart Wilkins. Wilkins, an academy favourite, had a mostly quiet game but showed his fine footwork when an attempt on goal was charged down by Burroughs.

Joseph Whitehill, Homewood’s veteran forward, got the second half off to a flying start when he netted a brace for his club in only five minutes. The physical striker’s heavy challenges earned him a booking but no amount of officiating could stop the heavy-set man becoming a hero for Homewood. Leading 2-0, Homewood were content to sit back and bat away Barbican’s wavering attempts to break the loss.

As the match was drawing to a close, a penalty was awarded to the hosts when Richard Broughton was brought down by Joseph Whitehill in the box. Broughton hammered the set-piece home but it was little consolation for the home team when time was called in the ninety-ninth minute. The result is a tremendous success to the Zeonese newcomers and sees them through to Round 2, facing overwhelming opposition in the form of Crown League champions Gestoria F.C.

Exclusive interview with George Stuart - Manager of Homewood AFC
Our interviewer was John Simmonds.

Simmonds: “Mister Stuart, what must you be thinking. To have beaten a top-flight Frankenlischian club in your first foray into the international game. What does this mean to you?”

Stuart: “It’s a great feeling. We knew we had a big challenge today, but I had faith in the players, and in all the hours of practice they put in. It’s an honour to lead this team here, our first time in the Cup, and I know they all feel blessed to have this victory.”

Simmonds: “And to do it in such a fashion. Your team dominated out there. Are there any players you’re particularly proud of today?”

Stuart: “I’m proud of everyone. We have an old saying back home: only a fool brings down a tree by himself. Everybody contributes something. I’m blessed to have a very able captain out there. I told Elzy before the game that I wanted our defence to be stout as an oak, and he made it happen. And I’m very pleased with the work that Joseph Whitehill did on the field today. Getting the first goal in a game is always a good thing.”

Simmonds: “For those in the Empire who don’t know you or Homewood very well, what can you say about your club and your experience of the game?”

Stuart: "I can say this, this club was started by lumber men. We might not be the flashiest or the prettiest on the field, but there's nobody out there who's tougher than we are. Whether we're up or down, these men will never bring anything less than everything they've got onto the field. And we're excited to get into the Cup and face some new opponents, learn some new tricks, and show what we can do."

Simmonds: "Bold words. And to finish off, Mister Stuart, how are you feeling about going on to face Gestoria? Having won the top division last season and in good form in recent weeks, they must seem like quite the mountain to climb."

Stuart: “Gestoria will be a big strong oak, that’s for sure. We’re going to have to be at our very best if we want to cut them down. But we’ll see what happens when we meet them on the field.”

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Our featured match today:
Erin Duchy 2 - Adeleux 1

The match kicked off at 5pm at Sheridan Park. Rain and wind hampered the game from the start but the fans, ten-thousand strong, were safe beneath the canopy of the newly-expanded grounds.

Things did not begin well for Erin. Having won the coin toss, the Harps began the game but immediately lost possession of the ball as Donald O’Rourke on the left lost his footing and enabled Adeluex’s Jean Lanche to claim the ball and take up the attack.

O’Kieth: “It’s an early evening start here at Sheridan Park and Erin Duchy has called heads. They will be kicking off the match, Patrick MacArthur to take.”

Matlock: “They say that man has the ‘golden touch’, he’s done wonders for Erin since joining last year.”

O’Kieth: “Very true, John. Can he bend that talent into victory against Adeleux, here, though? They have been in fantastic form in the Gallandic First Division.”

Matlock: “Possibly. Adeleux have- Oh a rookie mistake from Donald O’Rourke, he’s tripped over his own feet on the end of that cross and given the ball away immediately. We’re only seconds in!”

O’Kieth: “O’Rourke is a tall man and he’ll be kicking himself for that embarrassment later. Fantastic work however by Michael Connolly in regaining possession with a lightning challenge on Lanche. Excellent timing there to prevent Adeleux gaining momentum.”

Matlock: “He’s very graceful on the ball, Mike Connolly. That’s a routine pass back to Josh Fredericks, Erin’s fantastic left-back, who plays it forward for Shaun Shaughnessy.”

O’Kieth: “Put a bit too much strength into that, did Connolly, and the ball has outpaced Shaun. That’ll be an Adeleux goal kick.”

Thirteen minutes passed without either side breaking down their opponent. Both possessing skilled midfield players, neither Adeleux or Erin could keep possession long enough to really get into the attack. Late in the thirteenth minute however, a free kick was granted to Adeleux not far outside the Erinite box. A foul by Albert Johnson on Alexandre Souffon was the cause.

Matlock: “The spot has been marked about twenty-five yards out. The players have moved into an awkward interlocking line and Jean Lanche is the player taking the kick.”

O’Kieth “A fantastic ball! Lanche puts in a fine punt, reaching the feet of Pinnock. A seemingly free goal has been denied, however, what do you make of that Johnny?”

Matlock: “Aye, a perfect move by the keeper Ploughman sees the ball over the bar. How did he manage that?”

O’Kieth: “A fine scrape with his hands there, Johnny. The flag has gone up though so even if that had been scored it would have been offside for Pinnock. What a devastating loss of a chance there for Adeleux. A show of pure skill though, on both sides of the argument.”

Matlock: “Martin Ploughman is no veteran to the sport but he is just as skilled as any thirty-year-old elite keeper. He has the spirit and unwavering bravery to face down any shot.”

O’Kieth: “You’re right, so you are, very right Johnny. We should take this free moment to mention that Erin Duchy are sponsored by Harpers’ Best, the finest dark ale this side of Grythshead...”

A tough struggle for possession developed but, by the 27th minute, Adeleux had secured their control of the ball and flowed forward in a threatening attack through the center. Emmanuel Raya, Adeleux’s keeper, played the ball confidently forward to Baptiste Leonard who led the attack. Avoiding Erinite defenders all the way, a series of well-taken crosses saw the ball at the feet of Guilbert Bertinet.

Matlock: “A perfect position for Bertinet to be in, a fine ball there from Baptiste Leonard.”

O’Kieth: “Aye. He’s moving forward, will he try a shot or attempt another cross?”

Matlock: “I think he’s- Yes, sending it forward for Tonet. And a great interception by Albert Johnson! And Erin Duchy are heading straight into the counterattack, led by Finnegan and MacArthur.”

O’Kieth: “Shaughnessy is already ahead and waiting to receive the ball.”

Matlock: “But will Finnegan try it? Oh there won’t be a chance now!”

O’Kieth: “What a game! Liam Finnegan has been expertly dispossessed by Jaques. A fantastic ball! Tonet is there to receive it and is sprinting with the goal in his sights! Tonet!

Matlock: “Ladies and gentlemen, what a remarkable save! Ploughman has saved his team twice with absolutely perfect saves that will enter the Erin Duchy history books.”

Completely outpacing the entire Erin defence, Tonet’s pounding shot on a nearly open goal was pushed clean over the crossbar by Martin Ploughman. All momentum was lost as the players moved for an Adeleux corner.

Matlock: “Corner is to be taken by Lanche. He drifts it in well and it looks like Leonard is ready for it.”

O’Kieth: “John Davis has just outreached him there, so he has. Nodded it forward to safety and saved the defence a lot of trouble.”

Matlock: “Erin have been defensively solid today. Pinnock has reached the unclaimed ball first, though, and there may be some hope for an Adeleux goal.”

The attack again petered out in the face of a strong Erinite defence and the stalemate was maintained. Though a series of corners and throw-ins in Adeleux’s half seemed to threaten the Gallandic team, Erin Duchy were consistently frustrated in converting their chances to goals.

While attempting to stop a Adeleux counterattack, John Davis received a yellow card for tripping his opponent. This foul granted Adeleux a free kick in a spot very close to their previous chance. The shot, taken by Lanche, was intercepted and Erin broke into the attack. Though this caught Adeleux by surprise, Raya was able to prevent John Davis’ eventual shot from causing any trouble by tipping it over the bar.

Soon enough, Erin were back in Adeleux’s half with a free kick to be taken by the towering Josh Fredericks.

O’Kieth: “Fredericks to take. It may be too far out to cause any trouble. Oh he’s sent in a fine cross.”

Matlock: “Penalty!”

O’Kieth: “Is it? Surely not…”

Matlock: “The referee seems convinced, and so does Finnegan who was standing right there. Baptiste Leonard committed an amateur handball!”

O’Kieth: “And only three feet from his own goalkeeper. A risky and foolish move, to be sure. And it’ll give Erin the chance to pull in front in this stalemate.”

Matlock: “It’s been confirmed, a penalty has been awarded to Erin with only three minutes to go in this exciting first half. Leonard has, of course, received a booking too and it appears Davis is stepping up to take the penalty.”

O’Kieth: “It’s in! A blinding strike, so it is! Emmanuel Raya went the right way but Davis’ ball had too much power, a very neatly taken penalty, to be sure.”

The first half came to a close without any further action of note. No substitutions were made in the halftime and Adeleux kicked off the second half. A somewhat half-hearted attack in the first few minutes was closed and defeated by Erin’s stout defenders, special mention going to Donald Smith for making the final interception.

Another threat to Erin, a free kick just outside the box, was wasted when Lanche sent the ball wide of goal. Every chance to equalise was wasted and, in the fiftieth minute, Adeleux’s poor luck became worse.

O’Kieth: “Liam Smith will take the throw-in. It’s a fine place for it.”

Matlock: “It’s basically an Erin corner. Baptiste Leonard has headed it away but it goes straight to the feet of Fredericks.”

O’Kieth: “A poor mistake, especially so close to his goal. Leonard will be kicking himself for that, so he will.”

Matlock: “Fredericks to Davis. Davis beats the defender to get the ball to Shaugnhessy. Shaugnhessy looks for Finnegan on the right- What a goal! He’s put it straight in, past half the Adeleux defence and right beneath Emmanuel Raya!”

O’Kieth: “It’s a marvellous shot, to be sure. Calm, collected, even amongst half of the Adeleux players. Liam Finnegan should be proud of that, so he should, a top-rate goal.”

Matlock: “That’s quite right, Liam Finnegan has put Erin 2-0 ahead in the fiftieth minute with a blinding strike.”

O’Kieth: “And a fine somersault to celebrate, the fans are loving that. You can tell he’s been drinking his Harper’s Best…”

Only minutes later Raya saved a strong attempt by Donald O’Rourke on the left wing, who received an excellent cross from Davis in the center. A tense back-and-forth developed in Adeleux’s half, every Erin attempt being defended strongly but an accumulation of set-pieces preventing Adeleux from breaking to counter-attack.

By the sixtieth minute, Adeleux were starting to tire. In the sixty-fifth they were frustrated by another brilliant save by Martin Ploughman, which prevented them from launching back into the game. The substitution of Lanche for the young and brave Maurice Lannes had no effect and, by the seventy-fifth minute, Erin were again full in on the attack.

O’Kieth: “We’ve had a much less exciting second half, haven’t we Johnny?”

Matlock: “We certainly have. Even Erin are having a hard time breaking through, ever since Finnegan’s fantastic goal. The Harps are breaking here but Adeleux have succeeded in frustrating them so far.”

O’Kieth: “That was a good routine cross out there, though, straight over the defenders and to the feet of O’Rourke. Chance here! He’ll take it, that’s certain sure.”

Matlock: “Defeated by the keeper. Much in the way Raya fended off O’Rourke’s last shot. Faced down bravely and pushed the shot aside, good goalkeeping.”

MacArthur took the resulting corner but Adeleux smothered the attempt. Erin were forced back before an attacking threat could develop and soon found themselves on the defensive again. Adeleux’s attack was lazy, however, and multiple shots failed to find their mark. With only five minutes to go, Adeleux were getting desperate and the quick reflexes of Pinnock were all that stopped Erin from going 3-0 up.

However, at the beginning of stoppage, Erin were suddenly demoralised by two bookings. Albert Johnson brought down Tonet as an attack began to develop and received a yellow card on the spot. Only a minute later, Donald Smith also tripped Tonet and received the same retribution from the referee. This sudden accumulation of fouls, no doubt brought on by the tired frustration of both sides, inspired Adeleux and demoralised Erin. In the ninety-third minute, the last goal of the game was scored.

Matlock: “Ponchet takes the free kick and Johnson sees it straight out again. It’s ended up back at Ponchet’s feet though.”

O’Kieth: “Will he try again or go for a cross?”

Matlock: “He’s tried for a shot! Punched away cleanly by Ploughman, a good save.”

O’Kieth: “Aye, a clean punch perhaps, but it’s gone straight to the feet of Febre. He’s put it in! By God, a fine strike, skipped it through the defence and beaten Martin Ploughman.”

Matlock: “Nothing the keeper could’ve done there. That shot was divine.”

O’Kieth: “Well this is a surprise, so it is. Adeleux have scored in the last few seconds of the match from a desperate melee in Erin’s box.”

Matlock: “And there goes the whistle, it’s all over. What an exciting match that was, putting Erin Duchy past the dreaded First Round of the Imperial Cup and into Round Two against Espicuta’s Ascunia Real. What a fantastic display across the board.”

O’Kieth: “Truly was, Johnny, it truly was. Well, the final result is Erin Duchy 2 - Adeleux 1. What a stupendous group of goals, so they were.”

[South Helland]

What is this

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

What is this

At the moment I am posting things which I have already written but are not yet on the site. Please note the closed tag, if you're interested I'd prefer we discussed it over telegram.

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

“Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen. Welcome to Match of the Day. This football programme is presented by Sir Allistair O'Keith and John Matlock. This two-hour show will delight you with the exciting moments of this matchday including, highlights, an exclusive media interview, and an uncut film of one of today’s football matches with commentary from our presenters. Whether you are watching this on a home projector, or at a cinema or public house, please do enjoy today’s Match of the Day.”
- Voiceover by Ian Walken, played at the start of each Match of the Day film

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Four matches from the Second Round of this season’s Imperial Cup were played and the exciting results continue. Already things are not quite going to plan for some of the competition’s high flyers and you can enjoy the controversy, drama, and nail-biting action on this Match of the Day.

Larkinge County 2 - Caledonia Princedom 2
Won by Caledonia Princedom on penalties

A game in which both sides will be glad to put behind them. Caledonia took their physical and controlling style of game from the First Round forward into this fixture. However, the stout yeomen of Larkinge proved a tricker opponent than the Mariners of Geldport. Right from the get-go Caledonia’s heavy midfield proved more a hindrance as, despite keeping much of the possession, they failed consistently to carry the ball into Larkinge heartland.

When, in the 38th minute, midfielder William Armstrong was shown the red card for a dangerous tackle on County forward Finnley Wright, it didn’t seem things could get any worse for the Thistles. However, they got their break in the 44th minute when, despite a poor build-up, James McLoach put his team ahead with a determined drive through the County defence and a powerful shot from close-range.

The second half was, though exciting, marred by periods of poor performance from both sides. Operating with only ten men, Caledonia were delighted to start the second half with a goal as imposing centre-back Jimmy Logan headed in a corner delivered by their midfield genius Killian Burns. Larkinge County were left dejected as their own attempts to counterattack fizzled out despite lacklustre opposition from the Thistles’ defence.

On the verge of condemning themselves to defeat thanks to their own poor finishing, Larkinge switched their modern 4-3-3 formation out for the classic 4-4-2 with the introduction of veteran striker Fletcher Thompson from the bench. In the 34-year old’s first appearance of the season, he gave the Thistles a violent and skilled reminder of his illustrious career with Wooton Park as he scored a pair of stunning solo goals and saw off a heavy tackle by Angus Morton which left the Caledonia left-back worse for wear as he tumbled into a goalpost and was taken off with a minor injury.

Somewhat controversially, the referee awarded only two minutes of stoppage time and, with little opportunity for either side to break the deadlock, the result was decided by a penalty shootout. Every spot-kick was taken well with the exception of Larkinge’s Timothy Butler. Billy McFielding embraced his staff rapturously as the away stand burst into cheering. Caledonia, despite a poor performance and with only ten men for the second half, record only their second appearance in the Third Round of the Imperial Cup. The coming fixture finds them at home, facing New Grythshead of the Balion Super League.

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Frankenlisch Maritime 2 - Marinia 3

From a match fraught with poor performances to one where both sides may come away proud of themselves. At His Majesty’s Stadium Docklands, a five-goal thriller commenced at four-thirty in the afternoon. Two seaside clubs clashed as the dockers and navymen of Frankenlisch took on the tough fishermen of Marinia.

The game started off with excitement as Javier Romero, playing as a defensive midfielder, put Marinia ahead by scoring directly from a free-kick with a fantastic strike in the seventh minute. Romero’s game unfortunately ended not long after as he pulled a muscle ten minutes later and had to be substituted. The early concession did little to temper the Tars’ spirits, however, and Frankenlisch Maritime spent the second quarter of an hour in full attack. Each time the Tars went forward, the line led by their towering striker Adrian Lane, the attempts were closed down and smothered or batted away by Miquel Diaz who saved four shots in quick succession.

Elliot Wood stepped up to be the hero for the Tars and, in the thirty-fourth minute, he took advantage of a whipped cross by Taylor Chapman to lunge forward and put the ball through Diaz’ legs. The scores equalised, Maritime seemed content to sit back until the halftime. This proved a wasteful strategy when, on the cusp of half time, Armando Castaneda put Marinia back in the lead with a powerful header assisted by Arnau Botero.

Neither team made a change during half time and the second half commenced with full energy. Starting the half, Frankenlisch Maritime began a determined series of attacks which only ended when a bad tackle forced Lane to come off injured. The 6’6 forward gave as good as he got however as Inigo Callado, who made the tackle, came off injured himself a minute later - strained by the damage his own body took in the clash.

Though they edged the half in terms of ball possession and attempts made, the Tars had lost their best attacking player and it showed as their attacks petered out in the face of dogged opposition. It was during one of these failed attacks that Marinia finally gained the ball for long enought to mount a counterattack. One chance was all they needed as Castaneda widened the lead with an audacious shot from a tight angle. With thirteen minutes of the game to go, Maritime seemed to tire badly and by the time five minutes of stoppage was announced even Marinia had run out of steam. A steady midfield battle took place in the closing minutes of the game. Though he was on the losing side, Elliot Wood made his mark on the competition by scoring a second goal from impressive range with only ten seconds left on the clock. This proved to be the last kick of the game and Marinia have gone through to Round Three where they will face the winner of our next game.

King’s Grove 4 - New Penchester 0

King’s Grove met the Zeonese newcomers New Penchester at Shooter’s Field in a dominant performance aided by a brace from Albert Holland. Marshalled into action by Brian Dervish and keen to kick off the season well following their National League title win last term, the Foresters put four past New Penchester to continue their fantastic form of late. Compared to their countrymen from Homewood, the champions of the Zeonese league had a torrid time in their continental debut and endured a result they will want to forget quickly.

Though it would have been a bad day at the office for any team, New Penchester’s dismal first-half performance was further marred by a heavy tally of fouls which saw yellow cards being presented to Obadiah Clements and Cotton Best. Unused to the continental game, the travelling supporters could only watch in despair as King’s Grove took the lead with a 7th minute header, as towering center-back Oliver Lloyd pushed home a Lewis Atkinson corner. This lead was widened ten minutes later when Miles Allen passed a perfect through ball past the New Penchester defenders to meet the spectacular run of Albert Holland - the pacy striker scoring his first goal for King’s Grove since his move from Lawrenceburgh.

A lull developed from this point as, with New Penchester in possession, the game slowed down as they patiently probed for openings in the Grove defence. No such openings showed and the only attempt the visitors had on target was from a free-kick just past the halfway line. The long-range strike was pawed away by Jamie Doyle with ease. Things worsened for the Zeonese champions when Holland added his second goal of the game, making an audacious sprint to beat three defenders and the keeper. Holland’s short-range finish sent the home supporters into rapturous celebration and the situation seemed dismal for New Penchester.

The second-half, though comparatively goal-shy, was no less exciting than the first. Both managers decided that the game would be decided in the midfield and halftime substitutions saw this area of the pitch strengthened for both sides. Carson Jones, another newcomer for the Foresters came on to replace Rhys Ross, the stout No.10 who had been injured in the first half but managed to play on until the halftime.

A fierce battle developed from the first minute of the second-half. New Penchester came back into the game with a vengeance while King’s Grove carried their fantastic first-half performance into the second forty-five minutes. Neither side could break the other down and, though many attempts were made, neither side seemed likely to score. This situation favoured the Foresters, as their three-goal cushion kept them safe. However, attempts by Phineas Cowan and Seth McConnal were narrowly prevented from reducing the deficit for New Penchester. Albert Holland’s first-half theatrics were not to be repeated as he was substituted with a gashed head with twenty-minutes to go - the new was replaced by the old as Grove’s aging legend Andrew Turner came on to play up front for the rest of the match.

With the game winding down, Turner left the result in no doubt as he netted a screamer from thirty-five yards which dropped over the keeper and bounced up into the goal. Play was paused as several King’s Grove supporters ran onto the pitch in delight. With retirement swiftly approaching, the legendary status of Andrew Turner is something to be savoured and the pitch invaders were let off without punishment. Play resumed only as a formality as the whistle for full time was blown thirty-seconds later, putting a spirited but ultimately doomed New Penchester side out of the Imperial Cup and moving King’s Grove forward to face Marinia in Round Three.

Exclusive interview with Andrew Turner - long-time player for King’s Grove
Our interviewer was Lana Knight

Knight: “Andy, what a performance from King’s Grove today. Watching from the bench, what did you make of your team’s dominant first-half performance?”

Turner: “Delighted, Lana, absolutely delighted. I know the manager was too. Absolutely full credit to Ollie and Albert, a great set of goals between them and we fully deserved the lead.”

Knight: “Not to mention a violent first-half too. Do you agree with the condemnation of New Penchester’s heavy and sometimes clumsy tackling?”

Turner: “Well, to be honest with you Lana, while it was indeed clumsy and probably a bit much at times, I think you have to sympathise with New Penchester a little. This was their first game in the Imperial Cup, and I wish them many more in future, but that sort of pressure and expectation breeds nervousness. I remember in my early days for King’s Grove being incredibly anxious about my performances and that kind of feeling makes you clumsy.”

Knight: “So New Penchester were only nervous?”

Turner: “With due respect to the Zeonese players in general, their league is not quite at the same level as the Crown League or the Real Liga, for example. They were playing in a new competition against unfamiliar and, frankly, better opposition. I don’t blame them for being a bit clumsy and I definitely understand why they might not have erred on the side of caution.”

Knight: “I see, I see. And how pleased are you with your own performance? A fantastic goal.”

Turner: “Very happy. With my career winding down, I’m happy for what game time I can get and to be able to score a goal myself - especially one like that… It’s always special. But for me, at this particular point in my career, I was glad to have such a good game.”

Knight: “Well put. Before we wrap up, can you give me your thoughts on moving forward to the next round? King’s Grove will be facing Marinia, who placed fourth in the Real Liga last season.”

Turner: “Whew, well Marinia are going to be a tough opponent - no doubt about that. Obviously I can’t speak to the performance because I didn’t see it but I heard they gave Maritime quite a contest today. The Espicutan teams have always been tricky to face in this competition because they play in a fashion that can often unpick sides from Vionna-Frankenlisch. They’re quick on the ball and rarely out of possession. I see this being one hell of a fight but I think we’ve got it in us and I know the gaffer would agree with me.”

Knight: “Thank you very much, Andrew Turner. Congratulations.”

Turner: “Thank you.”

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Our featured match today:
New Grythshead 1 - Cathena 1
Won on penalties by New Grythshead

Cathena kicked off the match which took place at Horton Fields under a clear sky and the eyes of 19,000 spectators. Having finished third in the Real Liga last season, Cathena were favourites to win and Julio Dandes elected not to play his usual XI - instead fielding a mixture of regular starters, squad options, and promising young players. Martin Miller, his New Grythshead team currently in poor form in the Balion Super League, saw his opportunity to turn their fortunes around.

O’Kieth: “The clocks have just struck three and we’re away. Ibei Batenero has kicked things off for Cathena.”

Matlock: “And it’s been played back to the keeper via Paez to start the game on a cautious footing.”

O’Kieth: “Cautious indeed, Johnny? A long ball forward from the keeper Olivier Villalobos is hardly cautious. He sought out Batenero but found the head of Arthur Murray who has sent it back to Wilson. An unnecessary giving up of possession in the first twenty seconds.”

Matlock: “A poor ball by Villalobos, completely overreached his man. And young Batenero is hardly a tall striker.”

O’Kieth: “True, that is, Johnny. A very promising young man, Batenero, but not blessed with height at 5’8.”

Matlock: “Wilson has played it forward to the feet of Scott, much better ball. Scott through to Jonathan Andrews. Andrews to Luke Russell.”

O’Kieth: “The attack was gaining pace there, so it was, but Cathena have reformed their defence perfectly to slow things down.”

Matlock: “Aye, nothing coming from that, Ally.”

Ten minutes passed of patient, passing play from both sides. New Grythshead played well but found trouble breaking down the Cathena defence. Led by mainstay captain Ollen Paez at center-back, the defence was able to close down the attempts on goal with Eloy Albacete a particular rock in a central pairing with Paez.

Matlock: “The throw-in is just next to the corner flag, Oscar Minguez to take.”

O’Kieth: “To Saenz, and Saenz has passed it straight back. Oh this is dangerous!”

Matlock: “Church has missed his header! But Jonathan Andrews has gotten to the ball first. A scary moment for New Grythshead as the clearance is made.”

O’Kieth: “Back to Villalobos. Once again a poor ball from the young keeper. Straight to the feet of Nicholas Scott and so the attack can begin again against Cathena.”

Matlock: “A good-looking ball through to Russell but it’s been charged down by Paez. It’s still hot though and Jonathan Andrews is keeping the attack going. Good ball back to Scott!”

O’Kieth: “Just wide of the mark! A fine opportunity to put New Grythshead in front but Nicholas Scott has just missed his chance. Out for a goal kick.”

The battle continued. Neither side could take the lead though the attempts flowed freely. With six minutes left to go in the first half, the deadlock was broken.

O’Kieth: “A strong throw-in from the towering Arthur Murray has found the feet of Rudolf Stepthenson. The Cathena defence seemed to have smothered him but with some fine footwork he’s seen the ball back to Lucas Simpson. Simpson now to Church. Church to Richardson.”

Matlock: “Hefty pass forward to find Jenson Todd unmarked on the right. A fine ball forward to Russell but Albecete was too tall for him.”

O’Kieth “It’s not over yet, his header has found Nicholas Scott. Scott to Kaur. Kaur has scuffed his shot but the ball has bounced to Todd. Todd!”

Matlock: “What a goal, Ally! Jensen Todd has scored an absolute screamer to break the deadlock in this tough, tough fixture.”

O’Kieth: “The man will be delighted. Thirty-three years of age, never scored a goal in his two seasons at New Grythshead and he finally puts in his first to give his team the lead here today. The fans are chanting his name and Olivier Villabolos is absolutely fuming at his defenders.”

Matlock: “As he should be, as he should be. To have left a player with the experience of Jensen Todd in that kind of space, so close to goal. Shame on the Cathena defence. Just because a man doesn’t have the scoring record of some of those other New Grythshead boys does not mean he isn’t a threat.”

O’Kieth: “New Grythshead take a deserved lead and Julio Dandes is cursing at his players for their defensive efforts.”

Half-time was observed and New Gryhthshead kicked off the second half poorly, losing possession almost immediately. Neither side truly found their feet and a free kick taken by Josep Valladeres was the only show of skill from either end of the pitch.

Matlock: “Valladeres to take. Murray’s clearance. Oh no!”

O’Kieth: “Murray has scuffed his clearance and the scores are equal! Sebastian Ariza has scored his first goal for the senior team off the back of an awful mistake by Arthur Murray. That’s bad, isn’t it Johnny.”

Matlock: “He’ll be kicking himself for that one, Ally. An experienced defender like Murray does not make mistakes like that often and he’s sacrificed his team’s lead. Credit does need to go to Valladeres though for putting in such a clean ball and to Ariza for seizing on the mistake.

O’Kieth: “To be sure, Johnny, but that is a bad one.”

Matlock: “It’s beaten Wilson at his far post and with such a quick delivery, nothing the keeper could do.”

O’Kieth: “Certainly so, Johnny. Wilson has little to be ashamed of. That’s Murray’s mistake, pure and simple.”

Matlock: "Look's like it won't count though, Ariza will be kicking himself for that. The flag is up for offside."

O'Kieth: "I did think he went forward a bit early, but I didn't want to say anything at the time. It's a tough call and the Cathena players are appealing but the referee has disallowed the goal. Did you think it was offside, Johnny?"

Matlock: "It's hard to tell from our angle but I think it probably was. I saw Ariza move and I thought Church might have been keeping him onside but I won't argue with the call, it certainly seemed a tad fishy."

O'Kieth: "Well, either way, the goal has been pulled back for offside and New Grythshead still have a one-nil lead. Arthur Murray will be relieved."

There was a moment of concern in the sixty-fifth minute as a coming together between Kieran Kaur and Fernando Sastre saw an end to both of their games.

Matlock: “That looked a bad one there, what will the decision be?”

O’Kieth: “I don’t think there will be a decision there, Johnny, it looked to just be a collision. I don’t think the referee can give anything either way.”

Matlock: “Looks like bad news for these two though. Kaur and Sastre are both down and neither one appears to be getting up in a hurry.”

O’Kieth: “It was a heavy collision. Kaur looks dazed. He’ll not be returning to the fray in a hurray, that’s for sure. Both strong players there, that’ll have hurt.”

Matlock: “We’ve all taken knocks in our careers but that was a nasty blow to the head for Kaur, certainly. Sastre is quite upset about his knee too, looks like it’ll be the stretcher for him.”

O’Kieth: “Sure he’ll not be getting off the pitch under his own steam there, Fernando Sastre. This is an unfortunate accident for both teams, Johnny.”

Matlock: “The managers can at least be thankful that they have the options to replace them. Looks like Salvadore Pareno is stepping up to take Sastre’s place. And… Is that Michael Routman coming on to replace Kaur?”

O’Kieth: “Looks like it, Johnny. Well there’s a blast from the past. A fine player, so he is. You played with him at Barbican didn’t you?”

Matlock: “Only in my last season there, but yes. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he was the best winger I played with - not compared to Richard Rallic. He was very good though, even then, and at thirty-four he is still a threat. Especially in Balion where his experience is unrivalled.”

O’Kieth: “It is becoming more and more common nowadays for players to make the switch to Balion. Do you think that’s a good thing, Johnny?”

Matlock: “If it means we can keep watching legends like Routman then absolutely. Balion is a less punishing environment than the Crown League but the Super League is still thoroughly entertaining. I can’t think of a better retirement home, so to speak.”

O’Kieth: “You reckon they’d take me now, Johnny?”

Matlock: “I reckon you could replace a few members of that New Grythshead midfield today, Ally. We’d better not let Martin Miller you’re here or he’ll try to sub you on.”

O’Kieth: “~flattered chuckling~”

The game entered a lull after the clash which saw both Kaur and Sastre stretchered off the pitch. Whether it was down to the trauma of the injuries or some other factor, both teams settled into the second half poorly. Defences were carved up easily and attacks fizzled out goalless. The only players of note for a long time were the goalkeepers who claimed high or pushed weak attempts away. Against the run of play, the stalemate was broken in the seventy-sixth minute.

O’Kieth: “You know I don’t like using the word but I’d have to describe this second half as ‘boring’. Are you finding that, Johnny?”

Matlock: “Well I might not have gone so far, Ally, but it’s not been the same as the first. It has been a real mixed bag. Rare to find a game where both sides have been so poor. Stephenson has it now, passing heftily forward to Jonathan Andrews. Andrews with it now and it looks like he’ll lob it over to meet the run of Russell.”

O’Kieth: “Olivier Villabolos has gotten to it first and cleared it decisively. What do you make of that, Johnny, quite the punt downrange?”

Matlock: “It’s a strong clearance and it’s found Albert Saenz who was out of position down the pitch. With New Grythshead on the attack and pressing high, Nathan Wilson has found himself abandoned by his defenders.”

O’Keith: “Murray and Richardson are rushing back to cover Wilson and Lucas Simpson is trying to close in on Saenz. That’s quite a cross there and- Oh it’s in!”

Matlock: “The header was clumsy but it didn’t matter, Ariza was onside thanks to Lucas Simpson and he’s knocked it past Wilson. It’s one all!”

O’Kieth: “Such a quick transition, Johnny. They’ve been appalling in front of goal, so they have, but Cathena somehow find themselves level with fifteen minutes to go. Perhaps this game which we were about to write-off can end up with a bit more excitement than we bargained for.”

Matlock: “Looks that way. I think there might still be a goal in this game but I couldn’t tell which end it’d be headed for.”

Cathena’s equaliser did little to change the performances of the two sides, which looked tired and almost disinterested as the referee indicated seven minutes of added time. A final attempt to break the deadlock by Michael Routman was charged down by Oscar Minguez and finally smothered by Villabolos

Matlock: “And there’s the whistle. It’ll have to be penalties then.”

O’Kieth: “That’s right, Johnny. In the Gallandian style there is no extra time in the first two rounds of the Imperial Cup. So, we’re headed straight to penalties, so we are.”

Matlock: “Usually I’d favour Cathena in a shootout but, as we’ve seen, their shooting has been very poor today.”

O’Kieth: “Aye, but New Grythshead haven’t been much better. I really cannot call this.”

The first two penalties were put away neatly but the poor shooting of the game quickly came back to haunt both sides. Sebastian Ariza and Jose Angel Valdes for Cathena and Rudolf Stephenson and Howard Church for New Grythshead all missed the target or found their spot-kicks parried by the keeper. Jensen Todd tucked the next penalty away keenly and Josep Valladeres did the same. The shootout was even when Michael Routman marched up to the spot.

O’Kieth: “I can’t see Routman missing this. He could always put them away at Barbican.”

Matlock: “In more ways than one, Ally. ~chuckling~”

O’Kieth: “~laughter~”

Matlock: “As we suspected. A finely taken penalty. Only one keeper I’ve known who could fend off Michael Routman from the spot.”

O’Kieth: “Douglas McCoulson?”

Matlock: “John Harriman actually. I never knew Routman to beat him, for some reason Harri always got the better of him.”

O’Kieth: “A real veteran, John Harriman. Still playing at forty-one, a rock in goal when he was at Richmond Rangers and still a rock for Eldham Town.”

Matlock: “Yeah, a real honour to play with him at Richmond. Long time ago now. It’s 3-2 on penalties here at Horton Fields and Nil Lenero is stepping up to take the fifth kick in this shootout for Cathena.”

O’Kieth: “He’s had a mixed record Lenero. Taken four penalties last season in the Real Liga, scored two of those.”

Matlock: “Well he has to score this one or Cathena are out of the Imperial Cup.”

O’Kieth: “Oh dear…”

Matlock: “Well he took it quick, barely a run-up. Perhaps trying to confuse Nathan Wilson. But Wilson is the one laughing because Lenero has blazed it into the stands and New Grythshead are headed to the third round of the Imperial Cup!”

O’Kieth: “I don’t think either side will be particularly happy with their performance. I think New Grythshead might have just edged it with their first-half performance but they’ll need to improve and quickly if they want to beat Caledonia in the next round.”

Matlock: “Quite right, Ally. Not an unentertaining game overall with chances from end to end but certainly lacklustre in terms of real quality. But anyway, the result today is one-all, won by New Grythshead on penalties. That means they’ll be headed to Caledonia for Round 3 of the Imperial Cup.”

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

This is a repost. Thanks to my old friend Gran Chaco for the idea.

---

There was a sickening crunch, almost like a grinding. Joe was vaguely aware that, next to him, Fred was screaming. There had been a wet spatter, almost like a can of spray paint, which had reached Joe’s face. He staggered back. It seemed, for a moment, that Fred tried to do the same, to get away from whatever was leaking. But Fred was incapable of doing so. For a start, he couldn’t move. More importantly, it was him which was leaking. Leaking blood at an alarming rate. Leaking blood from the mangled piece of modern art which was once a left arm. Leaking blood on himself, on Joe, on the machinery in which he was caught.

A loud ringing commenced, the factory bells which tolled with each accident rang out and the shop floor came to a sudden halt, the machines starved of delicious electricity. The foreman, cursing as usual, came forth to see what the matter was. He swore some more and ran to get the chief supervisor and a couple of crowbars. These were used to wrench the machine open and rescue the withered limb of Fred Smith. The poor man was whimpering, tearlessly, and struggling to move the injured arm. The machine had clamped down below the elbow and the whole area was like an experiment gone wrong.

“It’ll have to go…” One man commented quietly.

“Quiet there!” The foreman ordered. “It’ll be useless, though…” He added, muttering, to himself.

The Chief Supervisor had called an ambulance and Fred, faint white and struggling was carried in. The lunch bell rang but most men had lost their appetite, a few headed to the cafeteria but only for a strong beer or tin mug of tea. The only man in the factory who saw fit to eat was the big man himself. Harold Hargreaves sat in his office eating a hearty lunch of roast beef, eggs and lightly buttered toast. He was not a fat man but his three-piece charcoal suit bulged unfashionably at the waist and anyone could see that corpulence lay in his future. To the right of his plate was a crystal glass of Ceasian Red and he wore a napkin from his collar emblazoned with the sigil of the Baron Hackstleness, who had sold his estate following financial ruin. There came a rapping from the door and Hargreaves allowed the knocker to enter.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Mister Hargreaves, sir.” It was a foreman, one of six who oversaw Hargreaves’ six production lines. “There’s been a bit of an accident, sir.”

Harold Hargreaves wiped his lips with the old and famous arms of the House of Hackstleness and burped uncouthly. “Which line?” He asked, curtly.

“Line Three, sir.” The Foreman replied, his cap in his hands held to his aproned chest.

Hargreaves nodded. “You know the drill, send them home for the day. Make sure the area is cleaned for tomorrow.”

“Without pay, sir?” The Foreman asked with some trepidation.

Hargreaves rolled his eyes. “You heard me. Let’s not break protocol. They take the rest of the day off without pay and we start again tomorrow. Bring the injured man to me when the sawbones’ are done with him.”

---

A week passed. Harold Hargreaves heard the lunch bell ring and smiled warmly as his assistant, Amy, brought him his lunch. She placed the plate before her employer, poured his wine and tucked the well-decorated linen into his collar. Before she left, she informed him, “There’s a worker here to see you, sir. The one who was injured last week.”

“Ah, yes,” Hargreaves adjusted his napkin and nodded. “Send him in, I’ll sort this out before I eat.”

“Yes, sir.” Amy affirmed and opened the door for the crippled man.

Fred Smith wandered in, cap held in his right hand, left arm in a sling, the hand missing entirely. Thirty years looked more like forty and he bore a sad countenance. “Fred Smith, sir, Machine Operator.” He reported.

Hargreaves pushed his glasses on to get a better look at the poor broken fool before him. “Ah yes, Smith. Now we need to sort this out, don’t we. Sad affair, does it hurt much?”

“Hurt like ‘ell, beggin’ your pardon, sir. When it ‘appened that is.” Fred responded apologetically.

“Yes I can imagine.” Hargreaves replied. “Now, I’m afraid I really cannot be keeping a one-handed machinist on the books, it would be most peculiar and probably bad for business. So, you’ll get a month’s wages and I wash my hands of you.”

“A month?” Fred asked, sounding almost disgusted. “I’ve a wife, sir, and two little’uns. What am I supposed to do with a month’s wages?”

“You have a problem? Take it up with the Ministry of Industry, write a complaint.” Hargreaves almost laughed at the thought.

“Will it do me any good?” Exasperated, the worker wondered.

“Of course not,” Hargreaves said and sipped his wine. He sighed and sat back. “Look,” he reasoned, “Maybe I can do something for you. I’ll put you in the Post Room. Seven hours a day, ten shillings and ninepence a week.”

“The Post Room? With Strange Reg?” Fred sighed. “Well if it’s that or no job at all, I’ll ‘ave to take it, won’t I?”

“Up to you.” Hargreaves looked down at his lunch, signalling to the cripple that it was getting cold and he was to make his mind up now.

Fred took the hint. “Alright then, sir. I’ll ‘ead down to the Post Room.”

“Glad to hear it, my man. Now then, go and take a look at your new digs.” Hargreaves smiled and ordered. “Close the door!” He added, once Fred had walked away. It slammed shut and Hargreaves raised an eyebrow. “A one-handed machinist…” He chuckled and got to work on his roast beef.

---

Fred Smith stopped in the cafeteria before heading to the Post Room. He sat, as he always did, with the other machinists on Line Three. With Joe Kipp, Michael Creech and Mr Larkinge, the foreman, who maintained that his late father was the bastard son of one of the Dukes of Larkinge. There were twenty workers in total on Line Three but some others left the factory for lunch or were simply elsewhere.

“So then, what did he say?” Asked Joe as Fred took his place at the hard, wooden bench.

“Post Room…” Fred grumbled as one of the lunch girls placed a tea-stained tin mug of strong beer on the table before him.

“On the house.” The grinning waitress informed him and rubbed his back lightly.

“‘Ta, love.” Fred thanked her and sipped at it. “I’ll be working seven hours rather than eight and it’s ten shillings, ninepence.” He told his fellow workers. “Not much, but I think we can live on it if I do overtime. Molly’s going to get a job in textiles to make up the difference.”

“You won’t get a chance to work at all, let alone overtime, Fred.” Michael Creech warned him. “The Post Room is Strange Reg’s domain, mate. You know about him?”

“Odd fucker isn’t he? Never met the bloke m’self.” Fred finished the mug and placed a penny on the table for another.

Creech laughed an ugly, howling chuckle. “He was a perfectly normal machinist until he got clobbered over the head by a falling pipe. Big fucker lived, never met a stronger man. But he got moved to the Post Room and took to it like a dying man to water.” He explained, telling the tale like a campfire ghost story, leant in like a crouched beggar. The Foreman lit his pipe and chuckled along to the story. “So, he starts doing more and more work in there. He sorts all the letters, all the bills and all that lark. He does it perfect, not even a crease on the papers. Then he gets given an assistant, some new lad fresh out of the comprehensive and he starts trying to join in. The poor little bastard lost two teeth, caught a black eye and had to be let go.”

“What ‘appened to ‘im?” Asked Fred, with murmured trepidation.

“Reg battered the lad. If the boys on Line Six hadn’t heard the noise, I swear he’d have killed ‘im. They ‘ad to drag him back and Mister Lane, their Foreman, ‘ad to give Reg a stack of the Supervisor’s papers to sort. The second they were put in ‘is little input tray, Reg was back at his desk sorting paper again.”

Joe burst into hysterics. “You poor fucker, Fred. Reg won’t let anyone near a single letter. You’ll be sittin’ at a desk for seven hours a day doing fuck all!”

“You’ll need that one hand to scratch your arse cause you’ll ‘ave nought else to do!” Creech joked and joined Joe in hysterics.

Fred sighed and showed a grin. “Still, nearly eleven shillings a week for doing bugger all. You bastards ‘ave still got to sweat for your twenty.” He joked along. But inside, a part of Fred withered away and died. He sighed again.

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

Brenbirchcott, Duchy of Grythshead

“Time is half-past six in the PM. This sitting of the Brenbirchcott court is in session. Edward Forwick, Bailiff of the Parish, sitting. Do we have any grievances to be settled before I make announcement?” Ted Forwick was a stout, plain-looking man with a friendly smile and a shiny, bald head. He wore his chain of office with evident pride and his head was held high whenever he sat in the great wooden chair which overlooked the courtroom in Brenbirchcott’s village hall.

The first grievance was a simple one. Two smallholders, Joe Murvey and Joe Yallow had a dispute over the sowing of their land. Joe Yallow had discovered that some of his fallow land was sprouting barley, which was being grown in Joe Murvey’s neighbouring selion. Forwick discovered that Joe Murvey had, while working through the night, accidentally crossed the poorly-marked border between the lands and sown part of his crop on the wrong selion. The pair were made responsible for marking the border more clearly and Joe Murvey was fined two shillings. The additional crop was forfeit and Forwick decided that, as Joe Yallow had not planted it and Joe Murvey had already received a fine, the crop, once grown, would go to the lord.

Dealing with the second grievance brought before the court was rather trickier. Martin Halfey had accused the baker, Laurence Edston, of selling pies made with ale without the permission of the Innkeeper’s Guild. The local Serjeant-Constable had Edston brought before the court and, though Martin Halfey demanded that Squires of the Guild be summoned to investigate, the Bailiff investigated Edston’s documents personally. The documents were, of course, perfectly in order and Halfey was fined a penny on principle. Involving the Guild in minor grievances was very rarely done. Though they often solved matters swiftly and accurately, their retribution on lawbreakers could be frighteningly heavy.

Finally, Roger Jowler came forward. Jowler had come before the court the previous fortnight to protest damage done to his fencing and, though Harvey Foltnam’s boys were suspected, a jury found them innocent. This time, things were much more serious. For a start, Roger Jowler was a mess: dried blood drizzled his forehead liberally and caked his short, beige hair. He limped up to the stand to give his story, his heavy boots making an unnerving scraping noise along the planks. Supposedly, a gang of mounted thugs had ridden up to his damaged fence during the night and had climbed over with ease, from there they stole four lambs and killed a ram. A sudden bleating had awoken Jowler and a farmhand and they confronted the bandits before they escaped. A struggle had ensued and both the farmer and his assistant had been injured and the bandits got away into the woods nearby. The arrival of banditry was news enough, but it was Jowler’s next allegation which truly shook the court. These bandits were from the neighbouring barony.

“So you mean to tell me, Mister Jowler, that these brigands were from the Lord Henwyn’s hundred?” Bailiff Forwick, astonished, asked again of the crofter.

“Aye, your honour,” Jowler assured him, nodding his head for good measure. “They’d have ridden along the Shire Road from Fernhaerwick and they wore Lord Henwyn’s colours beneath their cloaks. I’m sure of it, your honour.” He spoke with a strong accent but his voice was high. “They were speaking, your honour, about stealing his lordship’s tractors.”

There was a clamour of horror from the assembled commonfolk. Forwick brought his gavel down on the sound block. “Quiet!” He ordered with a sudden unnerving snarl. “This court is dispersed!” He came to his feet and those present followed suit. “Mister Jowler, come with me. Serjeant, join us.” Ted Forwick, with quite some urgency, pulled his trenchcoat over his court gown and grabbed his katzbalger. Jowler looked at the bailiff with worry. “We are going to go and inform his lordship. This has become his concern.” Forwick told him and dashed from the courtroom. With some help from the Serjeant-Constable, Roger Jowler tried to keep up as they rushed in the direction of the village's trim little inn, no doubt with the intent to commandeer the innkeep’s pony and trap.

---

George Wiley, Brenbirchcott’s fat-fingered, rosy-cheeked innkeeper had been only too happy to help out. While his wife had helped Roger Jowler climb onto the cart, he had taken his two sons and his dog (not to mention a heavy Snider-Enfield rifle he had brought home from Prodava) to watch Jowler’s land in case the outlaws should return.

Jowler, meanwhile drove the horse hard in the direction of the local lord’s residence. Ted Forwick sat on his left, desperately buckling his sword to his belt and straightening his clothes out. On Jowler’s right, the Serjeant-Constable had strapped on his helmet (a peaked, feathered piece made from hard black leather) and had one hand on his pistol holster, the other on the flanged mace which was the ceremonial weapon of his rank. Approaching swiftly, the towering silhouette of Breckenford Castle stood stark against the steadily darkening sky.

Breckenford, fortified in 1328 under the orders of the new King Edwin I of Grythshead, was a castle of the South Vionnan style most popular during that era. A simple, circular curtain wall surrounding a blocky keep. Both were constructed of thick stone designed to resist the siege engines of the day, particularly the ballistae which were a particular favourite of the mathematically-minded heathens in northern Prodava. Though the threats it had been constructed against were long gone, the castle’s military purpose had not ended. It was the meeting-place for the local militias and contained enough stores to arm and provision two hundred fighting men. Despite this important bearing on the local defence, the castle boasted a permanent garrison of only twenty men, not including Lord Breckenford himself and those members of his council who helped with military affairs.

Luckily for the three in George Wiley’s cart, the gates were wide open and the rifle-armed guard gave them no trouble. He simply grinned stupidly and took control of the horse while Ted Forwick and the Serjeant-Constable helped Roger Jowler down from the rickety trap.

“Is his lordship awake?” Forwick asked the guard.

The response was unhelpful. “I couldn’t say, sir. Maybe.”

Forwick shook his head in exasperation and led his party towards the open gates of the keep. He battered angrily on the inner door. “This is the Bailiff, I must have an audience with his lordship!” He called. There was no challenge, another guard opened the door from within and waved the trio inside.

“His lordship is in the study.” The young man informed them from a sloppy position of attention, his Metford rifle ordered at his side.

Old Lord Breckenford was, indeed, in his study. The whiskered gentleman with his scarred forehead and wavy, grey mane sat at a round table, hunched over a weighty tome. He read the dusty volume with the aid of an ivory-handled magnifying glass and a lantern. The rest of the room was illuminated by a series of elegant electrified sconces as candlelight risked setting fire to the paper which filled the room in books and documents.

Breckenford did not seem at all bothered by anything outside the confines of the pages of his book. Heavy-looking and leather-bound, a closer look would have told an observer that his lordship was studying an early edition of Monstrum, a work of the great Frankenlischian writer Theodorus and the earliest example of Vionna-Frankenlischian horror. The Baron’s thin lips were curled into an amused smile and his free hand rapped lightly on the table. Despite his enrapturement in his book, Breckenridge did not seem bothered by the knocking at his study door. Indeed, he welcomed the arrivals, who bowed their heads respectfully, with a kindly smile.

“Mister Forwick, Serjeant Coverly, Mister- Erm- Ah-” Stammered Breckenford on greeting his subjects. His voice was soft and friendly, yet something about it suggested that it had once been stern and authoritative.

“Roger Jowler, so it please your lordship.” Jowler, unoffended, introduced himself with another bow of the head.

“Mister Jowler, yes. How lovely to see you, gentlemen, please come in.” Breckenford sat back in his chair and the three men lined up before him. “Mister Jowler, you look awful, have you been fighting, sir? What can I help you with?”

Forwick cleared his throat. “My lord, there is dire news for your consideration.”

A sigh from the Baron. “Oh dear,” he closed his eyes and yawned. “Serjeant, be a good fellow and pour me a glass of brandy.” As Serjeant-Constable Coverly moved to Breckenford’s liquor cabinet, the Lord motioned for Forwick to continue. Forwick simply looked to Jowler.

“Oh. Erm. Well, milord,” Jowler began to explain timidly, “I have had four lambs stolen and a ram killed. Outlaws broke onto my farm, milord, they took the animals and me and my lads couldn’t do nothing to stop them.”

Breckenford took his drink from the Serjeant and shook his head. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that, young fellow. I’m not sure what I can do to help you. Do you need money?”

“I beg your pardon, milord but it’s not that which is the problem. I heard them talking and they want to come back on some other night, milord, and steal your lordship’s tractors.” Jowler informed his superior. “And there’s something worse, sir. The men belonged to Lord Henwyn, milord.”

Forwick quickly interrupted. “We think they were Lord Henwyn’s men, my lord. They wore his colours and came from the direction of Fernhaerwick.”

“Oh dear.” Lord Breckenford repeated. “We must act!” He declared and came to his feet. His usually dull eyes were wild with excitement and, in his dressing gown and smoking cap, he looked quite the theatrical sight. “We must call up our fighting men and defend our homes. Isn’t that right, Serjeant?”

Coverly stammered and Forwick answered for him. “Of course, my lord, but what if we are wrong about Lord Henwyn?”

“I will write to him. And to the Viscount, he will know what to do.” The Viscount of Daven’s Valley was Breckenford’s direct superior and he had obligations to protect his vassals. If Henwyn had truly been disturbing the peace and raiding the lands of other noblemen, it was the duty of the Viscount and the other lords of the area to haul the rebel before Court to face justice.

“And what should we do now, my lord?” Forwick asked for instructions.

Breckenford replied instantly, full of sudden resolution. “You will ride back to Brenbirchcott and Serjeant Coverly will ride to Faulkenfield.” He grinned with excitement. “Gentlemen, call the militia to arms.”

[Vionna-Frankenlisch]

To Dear Lord Henwyn

Richard, old boy, I do hope this letter finds you well and your family in fine health and spirits. My dear wife seems certain that you've been struck with a cold but I don't see how that can be possible, you've always been blessed with a fine constitution, your father was much the same. I wonder perhaps if (and I mean to suggest nothing untoward by this) you have doctor's blood somewhere. Heritage aside, I do hope of course that my wife is wrong in this case and that you are in your usual roaring health.

Anyway, to business. I have some rather unfortunate news for you. Some small parts of my land have recently been raided by bandits. Men have been hurt and livestock killed and stolen and property has been damaged. It is nothing too serious at the moment but I have fears that they will strike again, this time with more ambitious goals. This concerns you as it appears they have been operating out of your barony. I'm sure this will come as a tremendous shock to you and I assure you that you have my full support if you are having security troubles.

Unfortunately, things do not quite end there. One of my people, a mere commoner, seemed to have an inkling that the bandits may have been men in the service of your banner. I told him how ridiculous this was, of course, but it led me to believe that they may have been deserters or otherwise operating without your knowledge. I would never suggest, of course, that your command of your retainers has been anything less than soldierly and disciplined but the question must be asked. If, indeed, there is the possibility that these men, as my man suggests, were wearing your colours then you may depend on my full support in bringing them to justice for disgracing your name and House. I would also suggest that the Viscount be informed immediately.

Please do write back to me soon, I am (I should hope understandably) eager to have this matter dealt with as swiftly as possible.

Your friend,
Breckenford

Henwynford, Duchy of Grythshead

"Dithering old fool!" Frederick Henwyn put the letter down with a loud laugh. He looked to his brother, who was also chuckling. "Robert, dear boy, he really is a silly old fellow." Robert simply nodded between laughs.

The Baron Henwyn was cold and silent. He cleared his throat. "You must mind him well, boys," he lectured his sons, both around twenty years, with a voice which oozed intelligence and authority. "He was a fine soldier in his day. A wise man too, in his younger days, indeed, a brave man. But he is become weak in his idleness, old and lost in study." Henwyn drank Cunard Red from a silver chalice. "He does not yearn for his younger, soldierly days but languishes in decrepitude. It is said that his lands are inefficient and managed mainly by the peasantry."

"But father," Lord Henwyn's daughter, Lyra, argued, "He has two flourishing villages and a stout keep. He cannot be an inefficient man."

The Baron looked kindly at the golden-haired girl, she was fourteen and her father's pride and joy, "Lyra, my dear, that may be true. But he does not manage his own lands and has not done as other lords have done and appointed a guild or a corporation to manage them for him. It is noble of him, true, how he does not care for money. However, he will have pissed away his family's fortune by the time his dear son Reggie inherited his lands and then there will be ruin on the entire barony. Land will be sold, money will be borrowed, and a proud house will know ruin. And know ye this, ruin for Breckenford means shame on the whole Viscouncy."

"Why must this mean such violence, then, father?" Lyra asked her father, head cocked to one side in exaggerated confusion.

Lord Henwyn shook his head and stroked his black-grey stubble. "Lord Breckenford has become foolish, Freddie is right there, you see. He turned down my offers to help him modernise his estate. He refused to allow Reggie to court your Aunt Halley, when she was alive, of course. And, though I must do it so harshly, I am trying to help him. I'm trying to help the institution which we represent, a great cause, the nobility of the realm."

Henwyn's sons chuckled and Lyra asked him how that could be so. She walked around the plush couch on which her brothers sat to sit on the arm of her father's chair. "You see, Lyra," Lord Henwyn explained, rather half-heartedly it seemed, "It can be necessary, at times, to force change with the whip." He raised one eyebrow. "One does not train a horse by letting it wander around the stable. You must take it by the bridle and introduce it to the crop." He thrust his hands into his waistcoat pockets and added, "Lord Breckenford and his people have never known trial, they simply carry on in their way and he carries on losing money. It is bad for all of us if noblemen continue to lose money and have to sell their lands to rich commoners. So he must be encouraged, sadly with a little violence, to change his ways."

"Still," Frederick Henwyn interrupted, suddenly a little morose. His father stared at him through glasses perched at the end of his nose. "It seems a little rum to go raiding the dear old bumbler's lands. Is there no other way?"

"Would you rather I march straight in with my men and force him to change his ways?" The Baron replied. "It is regrettable, I admit. I cannot deny, either, that I would like to settle my grievances with him more fairly. But he will not listen to me and I cannot simply invade like some kind of rogue generalissimo." He came to his feet and looked over to the corner of his lounge where his scribe was sitting. "John, I would like you to reply to Lord Breckenridge. Tell him that I know nothing of these brigands but I shall begin an immediate investigation. Tell him his support is appreciated but I shall not need any help."

"As you say, my lord." The scribe, in his white apron and traditional paper waistcoat bowed deeply and reached for his tray. Frederick handed him the letter and the servant scampered out of the room.

"I wonder," Frederick mused aloud, "What dear old Breckenford is thinking..."