The no quarter collectio.., p.1
The No Quarter Collection: Volume Two, page 1
THE NO QUARTER
COLLECTION:
VOLUME TWO
AERYN RUDEL
DOUGLAS SEACAT
WILLIAM SHICK
Cover by
JOSH MANDERVILLE
CONTENTS
MAP
WELCOME TO THE IRON KINGDOMS
CONVERSION
PATRIOT’S CRUCIBLE
NOT EVERYONE DIES
WARRIOR’S TELOS
SWAMPED
THE KING’S OWN
MAP
WELCOME TO
THE IRON KINGDOMS
The world you are about to enter is the Iron Kingdoms, a place where the power and presence of gods are beyond dispute, where mankind battles itself as well as all manner of fantastic races and exotic beasts, and where a blend of magic and technology called mechanika shape industry and warfare. Outside the Iron Kingdoms themselves—the human nations of the continent called Immoren—the vast and unexplored world of Caen extends to unknown reaches, firing the imaginations and ambitions of a new generation.
Strife frequently shakes these nations, and amid the battles of the region the most powerful weapon is the warjack, a steam-powered automaton that boasts great mobility, thick armor, and devastating weaponry. A warjack’s effectiveness is at its greatest when commanded by a warcaster, a powerful soldier-sorcerer who can forge a mental link with the great machine to magnify its abilities tremendously. Masters of both arcane and martial combat, these warcasters are often the deciding factor in war.
For the Iron Kingdoms, what is past is prologue. No event more clearly defines these nations than the extended dark age suffered under the oppression of the Orgoth, a brutal and merciless race from unexplored lands across the great western ocean known as the Meredius. For centuries these fearsome invaders enslaved the people of western Immoren, maintaining a vise-like grip until at last the people rose up in rebellion. This began a long and bloody process of battles and defeats. This rebellion would have been doomed to failure if a dark arrangement by the gods had not bestowed the Gift of Magic on the Immorese, unlocking previously undreamed-of powers.
Every effective weapon employed by the Rebellion against the Orgoth was a consequence of great minds putting arcane talents to work. Not only did sorcery allow evocations of fire, ice, and storm on the battlefield, but scholars combined scientific principles to blend technology with the arcane. Rapid advancements in alchemy gave rise to blasting powder and the invention of deadly firearms. Methods were developed to fuse arcane formulae into metal runeplates, creating augmented tools and weapons: the invention of mechanika. The culmination of these efforts was the invention of the first colossals, precursors to the modern warjack. These towering machines of war gave the Immorese a weapon the invaders could not counter. With the colossals the armies of the Rebellion drove the Orgoth from their fortresses and back to the sea.
The people of the ravaged lands drew new borders, giving birth to the Iron Kingdoms: Cygnar, Khador, Llael, and Ord. It was not long before ancient rivalries ignited between these new nations. Warfare became a simple fact of life. Over the last four centuries periodic wars have been broken up by brief periods of tense but wary peace, with technology steadily advancing all the while. Alchemy and mechanika have simultaneously eased and complicated the lives of the people of the Iron Kingdoms while evolving the weapons employed by their armies in these days of industrial revolution.
The most long-standing and bitter enmity in the region is that between Cygnar in the south and Khador in the north. The Khadorans are a militant people occupying a harsh and unforgiving territory. The armies of Khador have periodically fought to reclaim lands their forebears had once seized through conquest. The two smaller kingdoms of Llael and Ord were forged from contested territories and so have often served as battlegrounds between the two stronger powers. The prosperous and populous southern nation of Cygnar has periodically allied with these nations in efforts to check Khador’s imperial aspirations.
Just over a century ago, Cygnar endured a religious civil war that ultimately led to the founding of the Protectorate of Menoth. This nation, the newest of the Iron Kingdoms, stands as an unforgiving theocracy entirely devoted to Menoth, the ancient god credited with creating mankind.
In the current era, war has ignited with particular ferocity. This began with the Khadoran invasion of Llael, which succeeded in toppling the smaller kingdom in 605 AR. The fall of Llael ignited an escalating conflict that has embroiled the region for the last three years. Only Ord has remained neutral in these wars, profiting by becoming a haven for mercenaries. The Protectorate has launched the Great Crusade to convert all of humanity to the worship of Menoth. With the other nations occupied with war, this crusade was able to make significant gains and seize territories in northeastern Llael.
Other powers have been drawn into this strife, either swept up in events or taking advantage of them for their own purposes. The Scharde Islands west of Immoren are home to the Nightmare Empire of Cryx, which is ruled by the dragon Toruk and sends endless waves of undead and their necromantic masters to bolster its armies with the fallen of other nations. To the northeast the insular elven nation of Ios is host to a radical sect called the Retribution of Scyrah that is driven to hunt down human arcanists, whom they believe are anathema to their gods.
The savage wilds within and beyond the Iron Kingdoms contain various factions fighting for their own agendas. From the frozen north a disembodied dragon called Everblight leads a legion of blight-empowered warlocks and draconic spawn. The proud, tribal race known as the trollkin work to unite their once-disparate people to defend their lands. Deep in the wilds of western Immoren, a secretive order of druids commands nature’s beasts to oppose Everblight and advance their own various plans. Far to the east across the Bloodstone Marches, the warrior nation of the Skorne Empire marches inexorably closer, bent on conquering their ancient enemies in Ios as a step toward greater dominion. Shadowy conspiracies have arisen from hidden strongholds to play their own part in unfolding events. These include the Convergence of Cyriss, an enigmatic machine-cult that worships a distant goddess of mathematics, as well as their bitter enemies the cephalyx, a race of extremely intelligent and sadistic slavers who surgically transform captives into mindless drudges.
The Iron Kingdoms is a setting whose inhabitants must rely on heroes with the courage to defend them using magic and steel, whether in the form of rune-laden firearms or steam-driven weapons of war. The factions of western Immoren are vulnerable to corruption from within and subject to political intrigue and power struggles. All the while, opportunistic mercenaries profit from conflict by selling their temporary allegiance for coin or other favors. It is a world of epic legends and endless sagas.
Enter the Iron Kingdoms, and discover a world like no other!
“CONVERSION”
AUTHOR’S NOTES
Though I’ve had the opportunity to write several stories during my time at Privateer Press, “Conversion” is by far and away my favorite.
The original brief for the story came a few months before the release of the Convergence of Cyriss faction for the WARMACHINE tabletop miniatures game. The concept behind it was fairly straightforward: we wanted a piece that provided an inside look at this newest addition to the Iron Kingdoms, one that would introduce the new faction, its personality, and its ideology in a very clear way. The obvious answer was to set the story from the POV of a new member to the organization.
While I initially played with the idea of following a newly initiated member in his rise through the ranks of the Convergence soldiery, I realized that I wanted to take this story down a very different path than much of what we had done before. Unlike most tales from the Iron Kingdoms, “Conversion” really has no physical conflict. There are no battlefields, no rampaging warjacks, no thundering cannons. Instead, what I developed with the blessing of our lead scribe Doug Seacat was a story about a personal, and ultimately tragic, journey that explored the ideology of the Convergence through powerful themes of personal relationships, faith, and the choice that sometimes must be made between the two.
—William Shick
CONVERSION
BY WILLIAM SHICK
Caspia, 604 AR
Thaddeus Solomon sat hunched over his home desk, the stillness of the room broken by the furious scribbling of his pen. Stacks of papers and open books were scattered around its edges, creating a ramshackle paper fortress about the wiry engineer. His black hair was peppered with grey, and a pair of wire-framed glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose. Several mechanikal lamps gave the room a warm glow despite the lateness of the hour.
The sound of the pen scratching on paper stopped, and his brow furrowed, revealing deep lines upon his face as he paused in concentrated thought. He put down the pen and picked up a small gear puzzle box. Absentmindedly he spun the various gears, each turn causing other pieces to shift and rotate, the actions and reactions transforming the box’s shape in his hand. With sudden clarity, he placed the box down and began shuffling through one of the piles of documents on his desk, chin lowered to allow him to peer over the rim of his glasses. His thin lips pursed tightly as he carefully pulled a manuscript from near the bottom of the tower of papers, causing it to waver precariously. The title page read, “Principles of Voltaic Condensation and Expansion
He nodded to himself in satisfaction, then scanned the pages quickly for the information he needed. After a moment his blue-grey eyes returned to the notes he’d made on the paper in front of him and he picked up his pen. Scrawled equations and notes covered the page, several roughly scratched out. Next to the paper sat another manuscript. Upon it was a delicately rendered schematic of a storm chamber. To the trained eye, however, it was easy to see that several of the typical components had been altered and annotations added to the changes in precise yet elaborate script. He ran his finger over one of the notes as his lips moved silently even as he scrawled a new equation on his worksheet.
A soft voice from behind startled him from his concentration. “Hard at work, I see.”
Thaddeus paused and reviewed the lines he had just written. He grunted in frustration before crossing out the work with a dark scribble.
He felt gentle hands rest lightly upon his shoulders before sliding down his chest in a loving embrace. He felt the side of his wife’s face press against his. He took a moment to revel in the warmth and feel of her skin against his. Unconsciously his free hand reached up to clasp hers, squeezing it warmly.
The spell of his work now broken, Thaddeus finally registered the view from the window facing his desk. Calder’s pale blue light shone brightly, flanked by the weaker luminescence of his sister moons Laris and Atris. “What time is it?” he asked as he put down his pen. He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling very weary.
“Time for you to put away your work and pay attention to your wife,” she said playfully in his ear.
Thaddeus smiled faintly. “Who said I wasn’t doing that already?” He picked up the document he had been working with and held it up for his wife’s inspection.
“Conduction and Amplification: Theories on Advanced Voltaic Relay and Galvanic Exponentials. By Eliza Solomon,” she read aloud. “This Eliza Solomon must be quite a mind to have put you in such a state.”
Thaddeus turned to face the author of the paper he held, taking in her deep brown eyes as he said, “You know she is.”
Eliza smiled and bent over, causing the Cyriss medallion she wore to fall forward. He felt it bump against him as she kissed him deeply. Her soft, full lips sent a jolt of electricity through him, and Thaddeus forgot all about equations and engineering principles. The only thing that occupied his mind was Eliza.
She drew away from him and her voice took on a more clinical tone. “So, have you figured out how to reconcile the increased voltaic energy output without relying on more conductive but less durable alloys?”
It took Thaddeus’ mind a moment to shift back into a rational mode. “It’s not simply an issue of metallurgy. The problem is with the voltaic condenser and amplifier. While in theory such energy generation is possible, it requires the fabrication of very small integrated components with impossibly narrow tolerances for deviation. This is simply not achievable given real-world parameters.”
One of Eliza’s eyebrows rose. Thaddeus knew that as a sign he was about to get an earful. “Theory drives practical application. Unless you are saying my theory is flawed.”
“No.” Thaddeus knew how Eliza could get when her work was challenged, and he knew he wasn’t witty enough to be able to win such a debate. “I’ve run your numbers every way I can think of. Your theory is sound. But of course theory always outpaces the capability to manufacture.”
Thaddeus tried to move toward her, hoping to end the intellectual debate, but Eliza crossed her arms, shutting down his advance. For her their discussion was not done. “Perhaps the issue is that you are too focused on the problem. A wider view often affords revelations thought impossible. Just look at what Sebastian Nemo has accomplished in the realm of voltaics and galvanic energy. His work on the Thunderhead project has shattered any previous notion of what is and is not practical in regards to manufacture and theory.”
“Well, I’m not Sebastian Nemo!” Thaddeus said in exasperation, sinking back into his chair. “And while the Thunderhead project demonstrates his genius, I would like to point out the man has yet to successfully complete it!”
Eliza’s face immediately softened as her husband’s frustration boiled to the surface, and she moved to embrace him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that you should be.”
Thaddeus grunted. He knew she wasn’t angry with him or even judging him harshly. She was simply passionate about her work and championed it fiercely. And he wasn’t angry with her. He was angry with himself—he knew the answers were there but he just wasn’t capable enough to see them. He muttered a soft prayer to Morrow.
Eliza cupped his face in her hands. “You are a brilliant engineer, Thaddeus Solomon. If anyone can bring my theories into practice, it’s you.”
He nodded half-heartedly. She leaned in and kissed him again, and as their lips met all his frustration melted away. “Now come to bed. You can return to equations and engineering conundrums tomorrow. Perhaps our service with the Light of the Maiden will provide some clarity. For the rest of tonight, though, it’s time for you to be nothing more than my loving husband.”
The reassuring atmosphere of the chapel of the Light of the Maiden settled over Thaddeus as he prepared to recite the Cyrissist prayer that began the service. His eyes took in the familiar sights of the old abandoned building that had been secretly reclaimed to serve as the group’s chapel. Eliza had told him when she had first convinced him to attend service early in their courtship that the building was nearly three centuries old. Thaddeus did not have a difficult time believing it. Although the building had been restored since the Light of the Maiden had taken it over some hundred years ago, the group had taken care to keep its true function hidden. Those areas accessible to outsiders were taken up with administrative offices and associated storage. The small Cyrissist faith that had been conducting ceremonies here for so long had been unable to conduct major structural repairs without drawing attention, and the chapel showed its age despite their best efforts. The once-rich mahogany supports were worn, the wood chipped and dull. The low ceiling showed similar wear, sagging where an old support had fallen. Some might have found the weight of time that permeated the place oppressive, but for Thaddeus it was incredibly soothing. He closed his eyes as he began the prayer with the other worshippers, letting the familiar words calm his churning thoughts.
“By the Maiden is perfection found. And by perfection is the Maiden revealed. By her equation is all reality bound. And by her equation is our consciousness made manifest. The Dark Wanderer lights the way for the discovery of revelation.”
The prayer complete, Thaddeus opened his eyes and looked toward the lectern where the Maiden’s priest had appeared. Like the rest of the building, the lectern showed its age. Though a chrome relief of the Maiden was set into its front, closer inspection would reveal the faint remnants of the symbol of the Royal Cygnaran University beneath. As with many of the building’s accoutrements, the lectern had been acquired when the university had replaced it.
Behind the lectern hung a large painting of the celestial plane. The painting had been meticulously transcribed from star charts on heavy canvas found in the library of the RCU. Though far from the stunning works of ascendants that decorated Morrowan churches, the celestial painting was nevertheless beautiful. Its precision and accuracy was impressive in itself, but the depth the artist had achieved made the monochromatic piece inspiring. Thaddeus swore that looking at it was like viewing the heavens through one of the university’s telescopes.
As he lost himself in the painting his hand instinctively found Eliza’s. He leaned over and whispered softly in her ear, “Every time I see your mother’s work I am truly inspired.”
Eliza squeezed his hand. “She would be happy to know that,” she said with a sad smile.
Thaddeus winced at the expression on Eliza’s stunning features. He cursed himself for not thinking; Eliza’s mother had died six months before, a loss he knew his wife still carried with her.
