Spreading through the Drylands like a wildfire, the conglomeration of monster-men calling themselves the Red Polemarchy has been proving itself to be more than the nuisance that it was previously considered. Though only a few years young, it is already carving a place for itself in the history of this land.
Alignment:
Lawful Evil.
Overview:
The Red Polemarchy, also known as the Eleven Legions or the Red Empire, was born when with little to no warning, all the smaller northern goblinoid kingdoms and city-states began flying the same banner and announced their eternal allegiance to a single Warlord - the Polemarch - a warrior-king now known as Maglubiyet's High Warlord Prabu of All Legions. It is suspected that this action was being planned for years already, if not decades before it actually happened, but so far nobody had taken the numerous small, if bellicose, kingdoms seriously.
The nation employs an aggressively expansionist and warlike approach to international politics, taking over valuable resource sites and jumping on every advantage like an opportunist hyena, but so far it has kept amenable relations with the more potent powers. One has to wonder how long those will last.
Inhabitants:
People living in the Red Polemarchy call themselves Legionnaires - while leading to much confusion among other kingdoms, this mere fact summarizes the mindset of the Polemarchy rather well. The nation is inhabited almost exclusively by goblinoid races: Hobgoblins, Goblins and Bugbears, as well as Worgs, whose intelligence and loyalty to these races have earned them a honorary spot among Goblinoids in the Polemarchy's civil consciousness. Hobgoblins - ferocious and muscular red and yellow-skinned humanoids - tend to be the ruling class, though the Polemarchy is a meritocracy, and anyone skilled enough can carve a position of power for himself (excluding the numerous slaves, of course). Of course, due to obvious predispositions, the gigantic, brutish Bugbears tend to take occupations that make use of their incredible physical strength; the small, fast and numerous Goblins usually can be found doing more trivial or skill-based work. Worgs are almost exclusively hunters or soldiers, but are not treated any differently than any other inhabitant, and are valued and respected for their prowess.
Within the Polemarchy, anyone who is not a goblinoid is a slave, a non-person. Exceptions occur, however - diplomats and other people of political, strategic or diplomatic importance are well treated. Non-goblinoids are not allowed through their borders, but the nation gladly accepts goblin, hobgoblin, bugbear and worg immigrants.
Society:
A foreign visitor to the Red Polemarchy would find it extremely alien; more dramatic individuals would be quick to call it a hive-mind, or consider mass mind control. In truth, it's none of that - as far as it is known, of course. For starters, all Legionnaires are property. They legally belong to their superiors, from the lowest rookie belonging to his squad leader, to the Warlords themselves belonging to the Polemarch - and the Polemarch, in turn, belonging directly to their god Maglubiyet, which is the greatest of honors.
Within the Red Polemarchy, a life has no intrinsic worth. Between Goblinoids, there is no distinction between sexes, origins, or anything of the sort, because everyone is of no value by default, and only the Red Polemarchy matters. It is an extreme meritocratic system, in which everyone is only worth as much as what they provide, achieve, or do, and the moment they are unable to provide their service and cannot find another way that they will be useful to their society, they are summarily disposed of. It is a fact of life: most hobgoblins abhor even the thought of a life as, the way they see it, a parasite living off the Polemarchy's prosperity. Other practices that confuse newcomers include some people with occupations widely considered to be inferior being saluted and respected by members of more prestigious group, without (to outsiders) any apparent logic behind it; the separation of children into castes (Warriors, Craftsmen, Agriculturers, Hunters, Priests and Viziers) at birth, with priests divining the area the newborns will excel in and handing them to the appropriate caste, and all, without exception, are given extensive martial training as part of their education, making them all worthy of the moniker Legionnaire. There is no such thing as defenseless in the Red Polemarchy - every single inhabitant is trained to know how to kill.
The Legionnaires' appreciation for sweets and honey-based pastries has also surprised a lot of outlanders, who often do not expect such warlike beings to enjoy that sort of food.
Religion:
The Red Polemarchy's state religion is the cult of Maglubiyet, the Fiery-eyes, a deity of domination, destruction and supremacy and patron (and creator) of all Goblinoids. Any other religious beliefs are illegal, not that there are many among the ranks who are not avid servants of the deity. The Priest caste conducts the rites, and offers sacrifices of slaves, cattle and even their own for good luck. This is both done to quietly weed out inferior specimens, possible dissidents or troublemaker slaves, and to boost the morale of the legion. Occasionally, they may actually gain their deity's blessing or aid in return. The cult of Maglubiyet is a collection of rites, teachings, allegories and commandments tailored to educate young hobgoblins to be from birth what the race in general needs them to be: loyal, physically apt, reliable. Stories of how other races betrayed them in the past ignite violent racism and a sense of justification to their incursions; stories of how those who distanced themselves from the desired ideals met only shame and disaster keep the young ones obedient; stories of the Fiery-Eyes himself coming down from the burning skies to invest the paragons of the race with his own godly power push each Legionnaire to excel at what they do. The pragmatism behind this religion is obvious; yes, it exists to praise the great Maglubiyet and venerate him, but most of all it exists as a tool to keep the legions stable and under control.
Commerce:
Though the Polemarchy's industry is still young, the sheer amount of raw materials, especially minerals, they have access to helps quite a lot. It is said that there are two things the Legionnaires can produce: war equipment, and honey. Weapons and armor made in the Red Polemarchy can be of very high quality, and it is by far the nation with the best (and more numerous) beekeepers in the entire continent. Other exports include salt and slaves. The nation has also been known to rent out some of their armies or military advisors to allied kingdoms. The Polemarchy mostly imports food, building materials and rare metals, but has absolutely no demand for luxury items.
Military:
There is no nation more inclined toward - or capable in - warfare than the Polemarchy, they say. Their strategists are some of the most brilliant in the land, their weaponry is of high quality, their numbers are great, and almost everyone living in it is a capable warrior. Goblinoids are mentally and physically inclined toward warfare, and in this case, nurture simply reinforces the efforts of nature, creating an entire Empire of killing machines.
Legion armies are usually mixed and well-balanced, foregoing the overspecialization of other armies and making liberal use of skirmishers, mercenaries and siege weaponry. However, some specialized roles of note exist. Hobgoblin and Bugbear Phalanxes march as one, and are feared for their ferocity. Unseen goblin archers and slingers assail their foes from cover, whereas the massive Hobgoblin and Bugbear longbowmen stand in the open, dishing out death from above - and are more than willing to charge into the fray or hold their line when attacked.
Unarmored Goblins are unleashed in hordes against pikemen, and are trained to roll under the pikes and get into melee range, making them great counters. Groups of shamans are part of each army, casting powerful weather and earth magics to change battlefields to their advantage. Squads of worgriders are common and deadly, and make both potent cataphracts and swift light cavalry, as well as good mounted archers (notably, most worgriders are well-trained enough to switch between all three of these roles in a pinch). Well-trained Drakeriders provide tactical advantages with their maneuverability and ease in bypassing fortifications and city walls. Blood-crazed spawn of the Kennels (see below) are often unleashed upon tight formations, destroying morale and leaving them disorganized. Traps, ambushes and other dirty tactics are the name of the game for the Polemarchy - a battle is won before entering combat, not during.
The Red Polemarchy often brings siege weaponry and other war machines to battle. Nothing destroys enemy morale more than a dozen ballistae firing at the same time - and flying contraptions are in for a nasty surprise...
Places of Interest:
The Red Polemarchy is currently divided in eleven states ("Legions"), each ruled by a Warlord, sworn to forever serve the Polemarch. These Legions are:
- the Ravenous Wolves, notable for being led by Gorefang the Worg, who used to be the Polemarch's own mount.
- the Red Ghosts, whose henna tattoos are believed to ward off spells
- the Broken Banners
- the Bloody Fangs, the legion the Polemarch himself belongs to - or did, at one time
- the Clever Weasels, led by Ig'nak the Goblin Shaman, said to be feared by even the Gods
- the Deathstalkers
- the Impalers, consisting mostly of Bugbears
- the Cracked Skulls, legion that spawns some of the best strategists and diplomats in the entire Polemarchy
- the Hundred Blades
- Maglubiyet's Pride, by far the smallest of the states, but one of the fiercest
- the Axe-breakers
The most notable places in the Red Polemarchy include:
- The Bladed Citadel: Deep into Deathstalker territory is the seat of the Polemarch himself. Centuries before the Polemarchy even existed, the Bladed Citadel was already the heart and soul of the many Hobgoblin empires that preceded it. The entire area is off-limits to any non-goblinoid: the very, very few that have seen it speak of a large fortress, its walls made of the swords of each warrior fallen in the service of the Goblinoids, bound together by the rust of ages. Inside it, in a large palace, resides the Polemarch and his eleven Faceless Peers, powerful paladins of Maglubiyet, one from each Legion, who serve as both bodyguards and advisors. It is said that whenever a goblinoid Emperor sits on the Citadel's throne of steel and bone, he is possessed by the spirits of his predecessors.
- The Saltsea: Vast expanses of salt farms to the North, the Saltsea is a large, barren wasteland inhabited mostly by slaves who toil day after day, gathering the salt that the nation exports. There are no insects or scavengers in the Saltsea, so the pristine bodies of dead slaves of every race can be found lying about, forgotten by time. There are also legends of areas where the salt forms waves and flows like a sea and stories of gigantic white worms that live underground, but these are regarded mostly as superstition.
- The Warchief's Might: Residing in the heart of the kingdom, is a massive statue of the goblinoid deity, Maglubiyet, pointing his ever-bloody axe at the lands to the south, ordering his faithful to conquer, slaughter, and pillage until the known world all belongs to him. The Legionnaires believe that the day Maglubiyet finds them worthy, the statue itself will come to life to lead them into battle, and that the entire world will tremble in fear.
- The Kennel: It is said that deep in Clever Weasel territory, a humongous facility exists, where a massive amount of experiments in eugenics and magical and biological enhancement take place - the refinement of the race demands constant effort. Ever wondered where those violent, mindless and monstrous lifeforms wandering the forests and wilds come from? According to many, they are the aberrations that result from failed experiments that took place here.
Change.
In the last few months, the Polemarchy's fauna and flora has been subtly changing. Visitors will report that within the borders of this new empire, plants become black and grow thorns and animals grow slightly, turning fiercer and more cunning. Even to the most clueless onlooker, the animals within the Polemarchy, from the largest predator to even the most innocuous herbivore, display a mean, even malevolent streak and glimpses of sadistic intelligence.
This seems to come as no surprise to the natives of the Polemarchy, who continue using the beasts and plants of their land as they always have, if with a bit more care. Though the creatures and plants have become meaner and a bit unsettling, little has changed in practice. It is however noteworthy that druids and others that hold influence over nature have been noticing their power over the fauna and flora of the Polemarchy slip away over the course of the change, until the creatures have become effectively fully outside of their control. This is not only restricted to beings native to the Polemarchy; any beast or plant that is brought within its borders will change over the course of only a few days. Recovery from this state might be possible, but only seems plausible outside of the empire's borders - the strange mutating influence is too intense for change to be achieved. Either way, the search for a cure hasn't been attempted yet.
Perhaps this has something to do with the strange spike-shaped structures that have been cropping up all over the Polemarchy? Something rather sinister might be afoot. Some scholars already make connections between the changes the creatures of this kingdom suffered, and the differences between human and goblinoid physiology and mentality...
Worgs, who despite their looks are already sentient and sapient creatures and not simple beasts, have not been affected by these strange happenings.
In the last few months, the Polemarchy's fauna and flora has been subtly changing. Visitors will report that within the borders of this new empire, plants become black and grow thorns and animals grow slightly, turning fiercer and more cunning. Even to the most clueless onlooker, the animals within the Polemarchy, from the largest predator to even the most innocuous herbivore, display a mean, even malevolent streak and glimpses of sadistic intelligence.
This seems to come as no surprise to the natives of the Polemarchy, who continue using the beasts and plants of their land as they always have, if with a bit more care. Though the creatures and plants have become meaner and a bit unsettling, little has changed in practice. It is however noteworthy that druids and others that hold influence over nature have been noticing their power over the fauna and flora of the Polemarchy slip away over the course of the change, until the creatures have become effectively fully outside of their control. This is not only restricted to beings native to the Polemarchy; any beast or plant that is brought within its borders will change over the course of only a few days. Recovery from this state might be possible, but only seems plausible outside of the empire's borders - the strange mutating influence is too intense for change to be achieved. Either way, the search for a cure hasn't been attempted yet.
Perhaps this has something to do with the strange spike-shaped structures that have been cropping up all over the Polemarchy? Something rather sinister might be afoot. Some scholars already make connections between the changes the creatures of this kingdom suffered, and the differences between human and goblinoid physiology and mentality...
Worgs, who despite their looks are already sentient and sapient creatures and not simple beasts, have not been affected by these strange happenings.