The incorrigibly lawless nature of Malathians is once again on display. A huddling group of Malathian refugees, crammed into a tiny fishing dhow, arrives in New Port Archangel. Immediately, without so much as a thank-you for their rescue, the louts begin to set fires and hack at the wooden buildings with their newly revealed great-axes!

Fortunately, the facet Malachite has just sent a consignment of his facet warriors to the port, and they raise the alarm. The Malathian ne’er-do-wells fight like cornered rats, mercilessly slaughtering several of the eager Fidelian hinterlanders who rush to the harbour’s defence, but are eventually driven out of the area, leaving twenty-seven of their countrymen to face proper Fidelian justice from Edvardo Khozinov’s Eschatonic Order troops.


It was Malachite’s facets that first raised the alarm.

Jogging in from the port, the last of the Crystral Heaven Warriors announced that the Malathian refugees that New Port Archangel had recently received were tearing the place apart. Several of the Eschatonic Order: 1st Infantry insisted on having a look through the facet’s telescope, as the Facet Archers headed straight up the walls to begin the assault.

Through the telescope, it was clear as a sunlit day: Nicole Amici’s fifty-seven ‘refugees’, setting fires and hacking at support struts with their great-axes, in the lovely new harbour.

The thirty tribesmen of the Hinterlands Embrace were having none of that - straight from the training grounds, they barrelled out of the city at a dead run, intent on manhandling the Malathians out of any cover they might find. Not to be outdone, the Squires of the Eschaton 2nd were close behind; the two Malathian squires particularly determined in their display of righteous fervour, although the Flembics and the one mokosh in the defensive force were also incredibly keen to prove themselves.

Following at a more cautious advance, the Kamakuran recruits of the Guardians First and Second and the Holy Archangel Protectors - still in their training gear, swords and heavy armour that they still seemed somewhat nervous about even touching - followed the Facet Fighters, Soldiers and Pistoleers and the Awakened Defences back to the harbour. Keeping to the shadows, The Last Line, Eva Ilyavitch’s small but determined squad of pistoleers, also headed in.

The outcome was never in any doubt - pinned down under the rain of arrows from the walls, the Malathians had no chance of success - but the treacherous scum sold themselves dearly. Seven of the Hinterlands Embrace fell to the skilfully wielded great axes of Legion X and the Black Legion; one of the Holy Archangel Protectors was ambushed and knifed to death by the dagger-wielding Amici House Guard; a Flembic squire was beaten to death by the Yardsticks before the others could get to him; and one of the Facet Soldiers was missing in the final count.

Despite the expert marksmanship of The Last Line, watching the escape routes assiduously, fully half of the Malathians managed to scuttle out of the city like rats, leaving twenty-seven of their comrades behind to die at the hands of your troops. A few of Nicole’s Guard and Legion XI are taken prisoner, but the Malathians do nothing but spout blasphemy and defiance until Edvardo Khozinov’s Eschatonics have heard enough and righteously execute them.


They would have got away with it, the survivors tell you, if it hadn’t been for those meddling facets.

The journey over was perfect. Your troops have long stood in defence of Black Sands Port, and the other defenders there give them no trouble. Whilst the six-day sea voyage aboard the dhow Serenity was cramped and uncomfortable, possibly the most vulnerable time for the soldiers, it was uneventful. The harbour of New Port Archangel accepted the refugees with open, trusting arms.

It was only when your troops actually started taking the harbour apart that the shifty crystalline creatures, a kaleidoscope of which had been recently disgorged by their own ships and were performing various drills like real soldiers near the bustling docksides, scattered off and raised the alarm.

The imposing walls of The Light Unassailable, the fortress raised by Constantin Gorbechevskief after the last wave of burnings, towered threateningly all around the Malathians, now distinctly nervous in their fire-setting and pier-breaking, one eye always over their shoulders.

It did not take long for the rain of arrows to start, forcing your troops to take cover; then the Fidelians arrived in force..., not even a majority of them were Fidelians. Oh, the Hinterlanders Embrace, thirty tribesmen in the stripped-to-the-waist training gear they were wearing when the alarm was called, those were definitely Fidelians; they died like Fidelians, too, no concept of door-to-door fighting, boldly charging around corners straight into Malathian great-axes. And not to be outdone, the Squires of the Eschaton, some Flembics and their pet mokosh, were eagerly emulating their strategy; at least one of them wouldn’t be reporting back, either.

But those silent, wiry humans, the Guardians First and Second playing with swords that they were still nervous of, the Holy Archangel Protectors shovelled into heavy armour they obviously had no concept of how to wear, shrinking almost like the very touch of it burnt their skin - or at least profaned the memories of their ancestors? Those were Kamakurans. Why their master Edvardo Khozinov thought it made any sense to treat them like Fidelians, your troops have no idea - given some spears or something they weren’t practically afraid to touch, they’d probably have been much more dangerous.

Still, they were wary and organised, and the deadly rain of arrows made it impossible to properly engage. The facets were suddenly everywhere again, too, and whilst most of them were armed with sticks, some of those sticks were surprisingly heavy.

And there was a small cadre of Fidelian pistoleers - Eva Ilyavitch’s - which knew exactly how to bleed a beleagured enemy with a few well-placed shots, never quite coming close enough to be in danger; some of the facets had picked up a few tips from them, too.

It was clear that the Relocated Malathians had no chance of finishing their work on the harbour, or gaining any further access to the city; gradually, leaving a rearguard, they slipped away into the countryside, hoping there would be better pickings further inland.

Given the forces arrayed against them, they counted themselves lucky to have lost under half their number; once they regrouped and had a chance to count their losses, five of the Yardsticks, seven of the Amici House Guard, four of Nicole’s Guard, six of Legion X, two of Legion XI and three of the Black Legion were unaccounted for, presumed dead in the New Port Archangel harbour.

Alas, even in their best estimates, they don’t think they could have killed more than a dozen of the enemy in return. But they were still loose in Fidelia and ready for further action.


The incorrigibly lawless nature of Malathians is once again on display. A huddling group of Malathian refugees, crammed into a tiny fishing dhow, arrives in New Port Archangel. Immediately, without so much as a thank-you for their rescue, the louts begin to set fires and hack at the wooden buildings with their newly revealed great-axes!

Naturally, the brave defenders of Holy Archangel easily put down the incursion, raining fire and arrows from the walls of The Light Unassailable. The Malathians fight like cornered rats, but eventually every last one is put to the sword; alas, the few that survive to be put to the question spout nothing but lies and foul blasphemy, and must also be executed swiftly to protect the souls of the listeners.