// Perisno is a complete overhaul mod for Mount and Blade Warband. It has fantasy aspects and well is really fucking hard so if you're tired of vanilla check it out. //
Chapter 1
The Roaring Sound of War.
"The cold Northern wind sweeps over the Volheere countryside, where seemingly people never struggle to sustain themselves. Hunters challenge the wildest boars, farmers try their best to grow oats. In the distance walk the Volheere People, counting up to 900 military personnel. Raiders set sail for the mainland that is old Perisno, which is divided in seven kingdoms.
As mentioned above, Volheere is on a small island in the North. Going further south, the Reich des Drachen flourishes. Trade caravans move smoothly and Snowwalkers get ran down by Ritters. Going further down south is Maccavia, which is as snowy as the Reich. People struggle here, since bandits and brigands terrorize villagers while harvesting season is almost here.
Further south, is the Tolranian Kingdom. Yeomen practice their aim in the forests, goat herds lead by shepherds roam the wide plains and villages prosper and suffer depending on their Lords. To the west of Tolrania are many outlaws though. Marauders, Vanquishers and Criminals tend to run down and capture peasants for a meagre ransom.
Going further to the west, the coastline of Perisno is reached. The Elintoran Queendom reigns supreme here, also known as Redwood Elves, with under their thumb Geldar, which are known as Bluewood Elves. Some argue that the bluewoods are being oppressed while others argue that they are usurpers fighting against Queen Arwen for the throne.
Going further to the west over the sea, we reach uncharted lands. The Aurolu Tribes reign supreme here. Simple people with simple tools, yet hard to go against in an open field due to their Leaf Bombs. They live secluded from Perisno.
If we go further south, we reach the Hakkon Empire. Spread out over the savannah, with arid winds and bronze armorpieces shining in the sun. The Hakkonese fight fiercely when it comes to preserving their Empire's prestige.
Moving more to the east is the Drahara Confederation, situated in a desert. Mysterious warriors wearing black cloaks and Royal Riders clad in bronze. The villages prosper, the palmgroves flourish. The peasants are respectable warriors on their own, mastering the spear at an early age.
Moving more to the east past the big and wide mountains is the Kaikoth Confederation. Imps and Dwarves live in these parts. They are superb smiths and engineers, mastering the usage of a pickaxe at an early age. They are the main craftsmen when it comes to smithing, but they also tend to outweigh most armies with their wide assortment of crossbows.
Moving more to the east are the Bakhal and Sut giants. They are basically the same, they're giants. They tower at ten feet most times, and wield heartwrenching weapons of destruction. They mostly are passive though, like gentle giants, but you know what they say about gentle giants and their anger...
And now finally, the Cretas Monarchy... Nobody really knows of them, since they own almost no lands. Their culture surrounds itself around horsehunting.
Also, before I forget them. The Falcons have landed, and a mysterious invader looms around the corner of Perisno... Will Perisno be ready to face them while they shed their own blood? No, probably not. We'll see."
- Narrator.
"Now, boy. I can see the shore, so get ready and pack up." says the captain of the trading cog, moving onto the next crewman. Meet Luther, a squire turned sailor due to debts. His younger days are coming to an end, yet his face doesn't show this at all. People refer to him as The Boy, due to his youthful appearance.
Luther takes ahold of his sheathed darkened bastard sword and stares ahead at the promising land of The Reich des Drachen. He grins ever so slightly, strapping his belt back around his waiste and readjusting his shoulderpads. A simple leather jerkin with reinforcements here and there with a set of padded trousers.
Moments later.
The ship lands and sailors exit. The busy docks irritate Luther. Freising is especially busy at this time of day, though the cold winds soothe him, they remind him of home. They remind him of the times Sir Arthur Maklo slammed him off of his horse during a jousting practice. The cold winds flew through his hair before he slammed into the ground and mach speed. These winds reminded him of the Miller's daughter, which he spent most of his time with near the frozen lakes of Plakov. The first time he kissed a girl.
Though these nostalgic memories of pure bliss and joy are cut off by screams of agony. A guardsman runs at Luther and eyes him and his equipment. "Boy, can you swing that?!" screams the guardsman as he looks around eratically.
"Yes, I do as a matter of fa-" says Luther before being cut off, the guardsman jerking out his broadsword and motioning Luther to follow. Luther unsheathes his mediocrely big sword and follows, holding the handle in both hands. The guardsman turns to face Luther again, yelling at him. "The Old Gods heretics are killing all New Gods believers, these Divine Aethlings are dangerous so watch out!" he yells, turning around and getting hit by a javelin in the throat. The guardsman drops down, slowly succumbing to the wound he just got.
Luther makes a dash for it as his vision blurrs, panic taking over in an instant. Without thinking he enters an alleyway, a dead end. Luther turns around and is faced by two beserker aethlings. Their helmets have masks, their eyelids are black. Wearing nothing but bear pelts and ironwood armor, armed with great axes that could crush anyone at anytime.
Luther shakes wildly, his sword barely being held by his hands by now. A squire turned sailor, never ever being in a combat situation where his life is at stake. The raiders laugh and approach, speaking in their native tongue. Luther braces for a hit, tightly gripping his bastard sword. The aethling swings at Luther, but misses. His axe goes out of balance and Luther lunges forward, jabbing his sword into the aethlings chest and jerking it back out. The beserker drops down, his screams echoeing loudly.
The second beserker charges instantly at Luther, wildly flailing his axe around his head and swinging it at Luther. Bam, down goes Luther, yet alive. The back of the axehead hit him, the blunt side, though this doesn't go unnoticed. The beserker charges his attack back up, but Luther doesn't seem to comprehend that anything is happening. Before he almost drifts out of consciousness, he sees the beserker stopping and dropping with three arrows sticking out of his chest.
A hooded man looks down at Luther and offer his hand. "Come with me, the barbarians don't rest.".
to be continued
Chapter 1
The Roaring Sound of War.
"The cold Northern wind sweeps over the Volheere countryside, where seemingly people never struggle to sustain themselves. Hunters challenge the wildest boars, farmers try their best to grow oats. In the distance walk the Volheere People, counting up to 900 military personnel. Raiders set sail for the mainland that is old Perisno, which is divided in seven kingdoms.
As mentioned above, Volheere is on a small island in the North. Going further south, the Reich des Drachen flourishes. Trade caravans move smoothly and Snowwalkers get ran down by Ritters. Going further down south is Maccavia, which is as snowy as the Reich. People struggle here, since bandits and brigands terrorize villagers while harvesting season is almost here.
Further south, is the Tolranian Kingdom. Yeomen practice their aim in the forests, goat herds lead by shepherds roam the wide plains and villages prosper and suffer depending on their Lords. To the west of Tolrania are many outlaws though. Marauders, Vanquishers and Criminals tend to run down and capture peasants for a meagre ransom.
Going further to the west, the coastline of Perisno is reached. The Elintoran Queendom reigns supreme here, also known as Redwood Elves, with under their thumb Geldar, which are known as Bluewood Elves. Some argue that the bluewoods are being oppressed while others argue that they are usurpers fighting against Queen Arwen for the throne.
Going further to the west over the sea, we reach uncharted lands. The Aurolu Tribes reign supreme here. Simple people with simple tools, yet hard to go against in an open field due to their Leaf Bombs. They live secluded from Perisno.
If we go further south, we reach the Hakkon Empire. Spread out over the savannah, with arid winds and bronze armorpieces shining in the sun. The Hakkonese fight fiercely when it comes to preserving their Empire's prestige.
Moving more to the east is the Drahara Confederation, situated in a desert. Mysterious warriors wearing black cloaks and Royal Riders clad in bronze. The villages prosper, the palmgroves flourish. The peasants are respectable warriors on their own, mastering the spear at an early age.
Moving more to the east past the big and wide mountains is the Kaikoth Confederation. Imps and Dwarves live in these parts. They are superb smiths and engineers, mastering the usage of a pickaxe at an early age. They are the main craftsmen when it comes to smithing, but they also tend to outweigh most armies with their wide assortment of crossbows.
Moving more to the east are the Bakhal and Sut giants. They are basically the same, they're giants. They tower at ten feet most times, and wield heartwrenching weapons of destruction. They mostly are passive though, like gentle giants, but you know what they say about gentle giants and their anger...
And now finally, the Cretas Monarchy... Nobody really knows of them, since they own almost no lands. Their culture surrounds itself around horsehunting.
Also, before I forget them. The Falcons have landed, and a mysterious invader looms around the corner of Perisno... Will Perisno be ready to face them while they shed their own blood? No, probably not. We'll see."
- Narrator.
"Now, boy. I can see the shore, so get ready and pack up." says the captain of the trading cog, moving onto the next crewman. Meet Luther, a squire turned sailor due to debts. His younger days are coming to an end, yet his face doesn't show this at all. People refer to him as The Boy, due to his youthful appearance.
Luther takes ahold of his sheathed darkened bastard sword and stares ahead at the promising land of The Reich des Drachen. He grins ever so slightly, strapping his belt back around his waiste and readjusting his shoulderpads. A simple leather jerkin with reinforcements here and there with a set of padded trousers.
Moments later.
The ship lands and sailors exit. The busy docks irritate Luther. Freising is especially busy at this time of day, though the cold winds soothe him, they remind him of home. They remind him of the times Sir Arthur Maklo slammed him off of his horse during a jousting practice. The cold winds flew through his hair before he slammed into the ground and mach speed. These winds reminded him of the Miller's daughter, which he spent most of his time with near the frozen lakes of Plakov. The first time he kissed a girl.
Though these nostalgic memories of pure bliss and joy are cut off by screams of agony. A guardsman runs at Luther and eyes him and his equipment. "Boy, can you swing that?!" screams the guardsman as he looks around eratically.
"Yes, I do as a matter of fa-" says Luther before being cut off, the guardsman jerking out his broadsword and motioning Luther to follow. Luther unsheathes his mediocrely big sword and follows, holding the handle in both hands. The guardsman turns to face Luther again, yelling at him. "The Old Gods heretics are killing all New Gods believers, these Divine Aethlings are dangerous so watch out!" he yells, turning around and getting hit by a javelin in the throat. The guardsman drops down, slowly succumbing to the wound he just got.
Luther makes a dash for it as his vision blurrs, panic taking over in an instant. Without thinking he enters an alleyway, a dead end. Luther turns around and is faced by two beserker aethlings. Their helmets have masks, their eyelids are black. Wearing nothing but bear pelts and ironwood armor, armed with great axes that could crush anyone at anytime.
Luther shakes wildly, his sword barely being held by his hands by now. A squire turned sailor, never ever being in a combat situation where his life is at stake. The raiders laugh and approach, speaking in their native tongue. Luther braces for a hit, tightly gripping his bastard sword. The aethling swings at Luther, but misses. His axe goes out of balance and Luther lunges forward, jabbing his sword into the aethlings chest and jerking it back out. The beserker drops down, his screams echoeing loudly.
The second beserker charges instantly at Luther, wildly flailing his axe around his head and swinging it at Luther. Bam, down goes Luther, yet alive. The back of the axehead hit him, the blunt side, though this doesn't go unnoticed. The beserker charges his attack back up, but Luther doesn't seem to comprehend that anything is happening. Before he almost drifts out of consciousness, he sees the beserker stopping and dropping with three arrows sticking out of his chest.
A hooded man looks down at Luther and offer his hand. "Come with me, the barbarians don't rest.".
to be continued
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