Fidwog


Fidwog has always been a bulwark for the First Families and that of many Royalist Clans in every sense of the word; from the highest peaks of Y Bren Cyf and that of the Great Galt to the ardent support of the local common Quar and that of the gentry. Each in their own way defines the very essence of the Fidwogger and the struggle endured, its loyalties having been secure since time immemorial.

For the last 11 years the Croesgadwr Fyrch has been vehemently knocking on Fidwog’s backdoor, but to no avail. Within the last few years the fronts of By-Setin and Aggor have stabilized with little in the way of solid gains for the Crusade. This is not in any way to be perceived as peaceable, as the Aggor front is a literal fernol hunle (hellish nightmare.) Small patrols of Alykinder’s Quar search for ways into the heart of Fidwog through the Great Galt, most never to be heard from again, its vast morass of jutting karst mazes for mile upon mile consuming and losing anything that enters.

Artillery rains upon the open front of Aggor with its hundreds of trenches reworked and rebuilt each day by the many replacements on both sides; a trench gained one day is inevitably lost the next. Its pockmarked countryside is eerily calm at times with the natural low lying fog of the great moor that the battles are fought upon.

At other times it is chaotic with the fog of war.

Then there is the By-Setin front, the strong clan of du-Gwybaer holds this ground, giving not an inch as tractor battles rage day and night, attempting to fight their way up the slopes of Y Bren Cyf, the wreckage strewn across the north-western countryside of Fidwog is constantly being reclaimed by Alwyd as flora takes hold of the rusting beasts and fauna make homes beneath and between them as war rages on.

All is not so bleak on the Achon-Fidwog front. The Fallacious Front, as it is so vehemently called, is a few trench lines dedicated to the monitoring of one another; the Achonian Crusaders have little interest in warring with their strongest trade partner and even less interest in spilling their blood for Alykinder. This has been a thorn in the Chancellor’s side, as the Achonian troops refuse to fight on any other front, and the foreign officer cadre that has been brought in has been able to do little in the realm of motivating them. So they sit watching and listening to each other, occasion- ally rousing their sports teams out of the trenches and into the open for a scrum.

Paf Braed!

It is said amongst the diminutive quar of Fidwog that the rallying cry of their brave fighters chills the very blood of the tyrant Alykinder. Few gave credence to the notion that the naturally smaller quar of this mountain kingdom could give pause to the mighty war machine of the Crusade, much less stop it in its tracks for almost a decade. The apologists of the Iron Regime may blame the rugged topography of Fidwog, but those quar who live among the hills and karst insist their resolution and firm beliefs are stronger than any other quar on the planet, and it is this undying faith

in King and Country that holds them apart and allows them to resist Alykinder.

No matter what the underlying cause, it cannot be doubted that the fighting prowess of the Fidwogger is unmatched, especially in the tight confines of their mountain lairs and tunnels. The kinship that knits many of Fidwog’s military units together is something of legend, as are her bottomless coffers. Rich veins of ore crisscross the mountain ranges that dominate Fidwog. Many clans extend their homes by the very act of increasing the King’s wealth, for it is each quar’s duty to tithe to the kingdom. The First Families that were able to flee Tok, Shralm and even Achon have forged an alliance with King Edifys Fedderic III, strengthening the Royalist cause and further prolonging the war which Alykinder had so hoped would be over quickly.

Fidwog Miniatures