Red Fangs Drawn in the Night

The clatter of chitin and bone hard claws against the steel of wrought shields would ring up and down the line as the electrical bark of rifle fire arced over head, here and there a scream of pain from a human or inhuman throat would break up the monotony of battle only to be replaced by a defiant roar from throats run hoarse. If one was to look around they would see but the swirling melee of combat, swords, axes and spears glinting in the gloom as hardened edges pierced irradiated hide before sprays of blood would see the collapse of a figure beneath the hulking mass of a mutant. The smell was what got most, the mixture of sweat, blood and ichor all smashed together in a true crucible unlike any other, strength being the only way through to the other side and the glory that awaited the tales told by the side of the fire as others gathered round to hear the words of those that had passed under the greatest test any of them could know in this age. That they thought would have to come later as they parried a claw aimed at their shoulder before cutting up into the howler’s neck, rewarded with a spray of putrid flesh and blood as the creature let out a shrill cry before it’s skull was crushed by a mace from their clan-fellow to the left of their position, a small grin shared between them as the cellborn line pushed on.  The place where they battled had once been some kind of great clan hold, hearths for thousands spread out amongst the towering edifices of the past, clans of all stripe coming and going as their lives dictated only for now all that remained was debris and long forgotten trash, rusted out hulks and abandoned towers standing like skeleton remains in a grave. It was enough to almost make them wonder what the point was before the din of war rung them from their thought, another taloned limb stabbing for their clansmen to their right, almost getting there as they swung their sword down cutting the limb off before smashing the creature back a step, stunning it long enough for a rite perched somewhere with a long rifle to pick it off, coating those nearby cellborn in a showered of vapourised blood much to their apparent amusement.

“It’s almost like they want to die on our blades, I though the swarming masses where supposed to be fierce not stupid” “We’ll leave that to you Olaf”, The laughter would ripple up and down the line as the warband pushed forwards, the crossed axe’s of their clan emblazoned on every shield and pauldron. The first fight in this new place had been surprising straight forward, such that even the most reckless of their clan were wondering where the mutant’s apparent smarts had gone. If she was honest it was probably because those creatures they had faced so far that had chewed upon a few of their number were only of the lesser kind, the swarm saving its strength for somewhere or something else as she nudged a rusted can with one boot. “What say you Ase, these mutants make for poor tests” “Only because they send their weakest, no one can be tested truly against such pitiful things”, the whole warband would nod at that as she looked over at the one who’d asked the question, a young warrior called balder. She wasn’t surprised it was him that had voiced the opinion, Balder already had a reputation for speaking his mind even at his 19th year but he’d earnt the right to in her mind when he’d passed the test to join the clan, all of them having a voice unlike in other places. She’d heard that if a clansmen in the Mech-corp spoke to the wrong person they would be hung for speaking to their betters, how a place like that could function she had no idea, the notion repulsive to her as everyone deserved their chance at testing their strength however it came to them. A whistle from up ahead would pull everyone’s attention as their shields came up, a nod and a gesture with a blade sending a group forwards to where their scout was waiting for them.

“Brutes, two of them, by that rusted wreck in the shadow of the eve”, looking where the scout was indicating Ase would see just what they meant as two hulking creatures seemed to be hiding as if in ambush, their frames making that near impossible but all the same they were a threat. Bringing her band forwards Ase would gesture to those with spears and long arms, these creatures she knew of, behemoths, armoured but totally blind. The key here she thought was to surround them, keep them guessing where they were and then bring them down by a thousand cuts, for all that armour they were slow as a drunk, the mental image making her smirk. Bringing her force down the road quietly as possible they would almost be in position when one of the behemoth’s raised its head as if listening, sounding left and right before growling as Ase heard some kind of movement. A few seconds later the first behemoth would be lit up by mass chattering weapons fire from multiple points, a couple of thumping sounds being followed by detonations that drove the two mutants into a frenzy, charging forwards only to have their legs blown out from beneath them, more weapons fire putting them hard as they were battered into submission and then non-existence.

“What in the fells” Balder would exclaim, the entire warband glaring at the dead mutants as Ase herself held up her sword for them to hold, more movement being just about audible as she watched as a red light danced about her sword and then settled onto her head, before a voice, gruff and stern would call out to her “You CellBorn down there?” “Aye, Red Axes” Ase would shout back, the red light that had been joined by others disappearing as figures emerged from multiple positions, all clad in blue, white and black puzzled clothing with tight helmets, blacked out plate and automatic weapons. Her warband would shake their heads as they realised who’d just dropped the behemoths as Ase stepped forwards to meet the groups leader as they came down towards them “You robbed us of a good test Hive-Sec...hope you’ve got some better drink to make up for it”

### Military Campaign Progress

Even in the earliest days of humanity there were rivalries formed not of malice but of begrudging, two sides forever locked in a cycle of combat with one another that one day could stand shoulder to shoulder with one another, and yet at the next be at one each others throats with the same level of anger shown for their true enemies. The reasons for such an existence are great and varied but the common bonds formed in the face of war have proven the tipping point for many a clash to come to fruition in both armed conflict and peaceful resolution. Some of the greatest civilisations in mankind's history has been founded by brothers, living embodiments of this cycle where united they had stood and divided they have grown only to stand united once again. Amongst the ruins of the once mighty capital this tale has been sung from every inch, from friendships forged through violent admiration between two lone figures through to entire towns and settlements rivalling one another that when faced with the unknown have readied themselves to fight for one another. In such ways this story is that of the CellBorn and many others, the great clans issuing forth from their holdfasts to challenge any and all, finding new enemies from which to carve new tales whilst also finding friends amongst those that have stood the tests brought before them and remained standing, bloody and defiant. In such times the Cellborn have found few that meet their legends, few that can truly appreciate what it takes not just to survive but also thrive in such an environment where the only thing that can stand above all is the strength of will to survive. Accordingly since the formation of the clans the Cellborn have viewed all those that put the test of arms before the darkness as worthy of respect, fellow warriors willing to spend what little life they have defying death being the only friends and rivals the CellBorn could ever really have.

As such the various clans of the cellborn spend most of their time making as many friends as they do enemies even within their own ranks, their belief in strength helping to drive this ever forward within their society as each clans holds their own interpretation close, finding those of similar ideals natural allies whilst those that oppose them as natural enemies. Accordingly the Cellborn have fought several wars with not just the mutants of the ruins but the various other factions, each clan holding their own memorable in a way but there is one that all Clans can agree upon enjoying as much as one can be said to enjoy war, and that would be their wars with the soldiers of the Hive-sec. Some would say they are the natural rival to the Cellborn as a whole, where the cellborn value the individual strengths of their clans, the hive-sec value their singular instilled belief in discipline, their thin blue and black lines holding back the baying warbands of the clans with a righteous strength born of true firepower, even the most grizzled rite jealous of the sheer power they can bring to bear not just on the defence but the attack, their mantra of total warfare being something they just can’t ignore. With this in mind most Cellborn would also state that if they were to consider the only friends they have in the ruins some would point, until recently at least, to the Nomads of the Lost for their shared ideals but  f you were to ask the clans that mattered, those on the thanes council or those that dare tread the paths of the green hold, you would find a surprising answer, their most common rival being replied as oddly their most  considered friend.

The first few days of the new season would see the Iron Blade contenting itself with its latest conquest, the various clans present within the army reporting back to the thanes in charge of their cohort as was the case with each and every new territory taken for the holds. Accordingly one could almost say the army was in a celebratory mood with the new space to explore and of course cause as much mischief as your usual cellborn warrior could when lacking anything to fight. Those with an eye to something productive would have keep an eye on to their fore, the ancient road ways and undercrofts leading into tunnels seemingly covered in strange graffiti and warding markings as best can be made out from those familiar with such things. The realisation of just where they were wouldn’t take long to spread through the army once the various thanes had sat to discuss the matter with the thaig themselves. The information that they were literally not camped on the doorstep of the holdfast of the tribal people’s would cause a great sea of smiles to cross the faces of all present as they all knew what that likely meant, the prospect of true combat sending some of the iron blade’s more blood thirsty warbands into overdrive as the various clan camps would be filled with the sound of sharpening blades, oaths being sworn, challenges declared and vast quantities of local brewed drink poured down eager gullets. By the middle of the first month it would be clear the CellBorn of the Iron Blade were more than looking forward to taking the people’s to task, a real test of the army’s strength gripping everyone in its tight grasp as from warband to warband all would be making ready to storm the very heart of the people’s territory. What they would get instead would come in the form of a message dispatched by the Iron Blade themselves to their army, the Hersekal ordering the entire force to be ready to break camp and move out on their order. It would take a couple of days but the rumours of what was going on would range from the Hersekal allowing the army to truly charge, to issuing challenges for single combat through to tales of People’s scouts fleeing at the sight of warbands already poking at the edge of the space between them. What the actual orders were would leave many feeling like a weak fire spluttering before it died, only to be reignited when told who they would be truly facing in the coming weeks and months ahead.

Early in the morning of the third week the thanes and cohorts would be called together, the thaig standing in for the Hersekal as they sat upon the throne of blades itself, their orders being read out for all to here, the army was being ordered to march west, away from the edges of the people’s homeland and holds. There would be an up roar from the notoriously ill disciplined berserkers amongst the force, some screaming themselves near blue in the face at being apparently denied the chance to spill challenged blood. Their rage would ripple out into the entire army as the thanes themselves wondered what on earth the Hersekal was thinking until they would hold up a hand, a clear sign they weren’t finished explaining in the slightest. As such this cycle over the coming weeks would repeat itself with great masses of mutants hurling itself against the oncoming wall that was the Iron Blade, packs sent reeling time and time again as each encounter was met with bloody thirsty excitement from the army, the swarm apparently not sure how to handle a force equally as ravenous as itself as the two engaged in what almost amounted to a like for like tactic, no quarter given, no mercy shown even if the swarm could have shown mercy the Iron blade certainly didn’t, running each and every mutant they could find to ground like prey before a pack of hounds. This steady stream of combat would see each and every member of the Iron Blade in combat at some point as the swarm with its already reduced numbers forced to split its attention between the Cellborn force and that of the Hive-sec, the sudden hammer and anvil created by them crushing the swarm between to the point some warriors were reporting back to their thanes that the mutant packs seemed almost confused, unsure of what to do as lesser creatures slung away from fighting them, the great beasts the darkness was capable of throwing at them failing to emerge or when they did in far lesser numbers that the CellBorn had come to expect, some warriors would say they were almost disappointed in the lack of spirit and strength the swarm was showing, like the Iron Blade was being insulted by the pitiful show the swarm was putting on. That single emotion would be the driving force behind the army for the coming days as finally under the shadow of a great tower they would get the battle they had been hoping for, though the outcome would leave many wondering what they were exactly meant to do next.

Clearing through a sprawl of what had clearly once been markets of some kind the Iron Blade would come across a great open square, the ground clearly meant to be clear for some kind of assembly or address judging by how it was built when they still made things like this some thought. The Thanes taking stock of what was before them as they stood by the Thaig and Hersekal would all agree it was almost like someone had laid a great arena floor before them, a testing ground like the proving fields of the holds with them on one side, and the swarm potentially on the other. As if to prove their point a nest of harpies would detach itself from the tower and swoop down, the numbers to few to do anything beyond provide target practice for the long rifle armed rites covering the upper levels of the once open air market. Accordingly with the idea well and truly set in their minds the Iron Blade would do its best to goad the swarm into coming at them, baiting packs to follow them until come the middle of the second to last week of the season the swarm would finally respond, a great mass rushing their way as if to escape the approaching Hive-sec. The thanes would realise this was the case but still the opportunity to test their steel against the mutants on an open field was a glad one as they ordered their warriors into ranks, warbands forming up into shield walls with rites and the like nestling themselves overheard to form a wall of iron for which the retreating swarm to break upon. Using a number of other warbands they had pushed long ruined vehicles into place to block alley ways and ancient roads, channelling the majority of the swarm towards them like water rushing into a cup. The effect would be spectacular as the swarm, some creatures missing limbs or openly bleeding ichor everywhere from gaping wounds would crash into the waiting Cellborn, shield lines heaving into a whirl of bloody mess but importantly holding as the swarm numbers from behind hemmed itself in. The resulting clash would be as bloody as it was frenzied, individual packs of mutants though injured still capable of inflicting grievance wounds as they tried to claw their way through the CellBorn lines, though ultimately to no avail as each and every time they tried to use what momentum they had the Cellborn would feign a gap before slicing the metaphysical limb clean off, minute by minute grinding the m remaining swarm down until it reach a critical point of no return.

Here and there at first some lesser creatures would turn and attempt to flee, only to be crushed by others behind it, until other greater strains would slow, coming to a halt before backing away, attempting to get away from the cellborn lines. To those well versed in battle it would be clear what was happening, the remaining mass of the swarm spent and with ultimate destruction looming the hive-mind was trying to extricate itself from a intended trap, the Iron Blade scenting the chance for a decisive kill taking one look to their thanes and breaking into a charge. In the resulting aftermath units chasing down runners would find themselves encountering the leading elements of the Hive-Sec army, the so called 1st chapter, of what the CellBorn warriors weren’t sure but few understood how the hive-sec named their bands. Meeting in the shadow of a habitation tower the leaders of both armies would find themselves in an odd situation, the swarm was well and truly defeated, broken and shattered like so much broken glass. The CellBorn had slaked their thirst for battle for the first time in years, no holding at least 20 percent of the territory they were in, but conversely they now faced a battle hardened and ill-trusting Hive-sec army holding the other 80 percent, they clearly unsure of CellBorn intentions as the Iron Blade were unsure of theirs. Retiring to their respective camps the CellBorn would celebrate and drink well into the night, the air of the territory filled with their war songs and elations. For the gathered thanes however they would have other things on their mind, a message sent to the Thaig and Hersekal, the swarm was no more and though they had the numbers the prospect of facing a hardened and clearly well supplied Hive-sec force was not something they favoured, for the time being the two armies, pushed into proximity by the will to destroy a mutual foe leaving them squarely looking at one another, each with eyes on the others weapons.

Waiting for the army to settle itself the Hersekal would stand, something coming with them as they raised a desiccated piece of bone that resembled a sword almost above them, letting everyone see as they spoke, their words making it clear they would be going to war, but not on the tribals of the peoples, not yet, they would instead be testing themselves against death itself, making war on a swarm that had drawn to close to CellBorn lands. This new information would see the instant rage replaced with a look of sheer excitement and understanding, those berserkers roaring before now all to eager to throw themselves against the darkness made flesh, strength of will against the strength of silence. Away from the army itself the Hersekal would let the thanes of the cohorts understand exactly what they would be facing as under the tarpaulin of their command tent they would show the information provided to them. For some seasons the warriors of the Hive-Sec had been engaging a swarm, driving it back and running it down, they had come close to finishing it but it had almost slipped the final noose. The Iron blade would be that final noose the Hersekal explained, the gathered leaders of the Iron Blade all looking at one another with a mixture of surprise, excitement and sheer bloody eagerness as some gripped sword hilts or axe hafts as they marched out of the tent, preparing their warbands to get on the move.

Packing up the camp the Iron Blade would march as directed, leaving the territory they had just taken on grumbling stomachs even as they grinned at the prospect of combat. Here the Hersekal would reveal what they had been upto, the first shipment of many from their newly secured node providing food to the army, leaving every warband as they marched out of the no rapidly emptying camp with a wrap of food to chew on the go alongside slick clean water to drink. The first leg of the journey would take a couple of weeks alone to traverse, passing back through the various bunkers and check points behind as they passed over long dead road ways and through empty tunnels that just now were beginning to show signs of Clan markings as outriders made themselves known with small bands of the long range roving scouts waving to the army or throwing a salute with a kick of grit to the passing CellBorn Horde. Most would be thinking of the fight to come but others would know that at least this first part would put them in range of their recently encountered acquaintances, the Hindered, the quasi-mutated inhabitants of the territory back along their path of travel.  The Hindered themselves would be genuinely surprised to see the Iron blade coming back through so soon after they had just been in their territory, the walls of their settlement manned until they realised the CellBorn were once more simply passing through. A few nights would be spent camped around the base of the settlement, their elders and leaders curious at what the army was upto but over camp fires and songs they would learn what the CellBorn were planning on doing, their reaction hesitant at first but after some internal discussions, and some translating via the same scouts who’d helped escort them last time; they wished their new esh’tan as they called the Cellborn the best of luck, even the hindered knowing one less swarm moving about the ruins was good news for everyone, and given the apparent proximity to their settlement more safety for the Hindered themselves.

Actually reaching the sight of the ongoing battle between the Hive-Sec and the swarm would take another month of actual travelling, passing northwards now out of the hindered’s land along the road way identified by the army’s scouts some months before in the previous season the Iron Blade would make good progress, the various cohorts all reporting in their warriors apparent excitement to get to grips with the enemy. Most had seen some action to varying degrees against lone packs or the occasional raider stupid enough to have a go at the edges of Cellborn Clan lands but the prospect of a true battle left many quite literally salivating at the prospect, banter between the clans reached a crescendo rapidly as bets and wagers passed back and forth, every night at every halt duelling rings and fighting pits springing up as each and every member of the army whirled itself into a preparatory frenzy, even those normally charged with overseeing armour and weapons see practicing with their own weapons, clearly anticipating even they might have the change to test their own brand of strength against the coming of the old night. Still all this activity would prove itself useful by the time the first warbands sent forward from the 1st cohort reached the outer edges of their destination, sending back runners with descriptions of what they were seeing it would seem that the territory ahead was not unlike that which they had just past through, forward scouts describing great towers reaching into the air above with clusters of buildings encircling each and every one like the home cells of the clans back in the holds. It would be very rapidly clear that this land had once been home to manys tens of thousands of people, a vast hold in of itself the CellBorn would know as they pushed their leading edge through to form a beach head into the territory proper. Even from here they would hear the sound of battle, mass gun fire, screeches and the occasional explosion announcing the position of the hive-sec as clear as waving a great flag above them as if to say over here. The amusement of it would stitch across many a face in the Iron Blade as they were urged forwards, the scent of war breeding an eagerness to their every step as they began to push further and further. As they did though they would encounter the first true packs of the swarm, seething masses of howlers and Alpha’s directing them that at the sight of the Iron Blade would careen straight into them, carapace, fangs and ravenous hunger meeting warded plate, shield wall and blade as the two sides set upon one another live two great vicious beasts.

In doing so it would become quite apparent in the first couple of days of engaging one another that the swarm had already been badly hurt, the Hive-sec’s vaunted expertise in killing mutants showing to be justifiably true, more than a few clans grumbling at the Hive-sec not even being in view and already show boating over them with how many they could kill. This wouldn’t last long as the army set about getting truly stuck in, the first two cohorts forming a arrow head that ground forwards, Berserkers carving a bloody path into the mutant packs, scattering them before the advancing might of CellBorn steel cut them to shreds, each pack encountered being utterly annihilated as the air began to sound with the war songs of CellBorn truly at war.

As such this cycle over the coming weeks would repeat itself with great masses of mutants hurling itself against the oncoming wall that was the Iron Blade, packs sent reeling time and time again as each encounter was met with bloody thirsty excitement from the army, the swarm apparently not sure how to handle a force equally as ravenous as itself as the two engaged in what almost amounted to a like for like tactic, no quarter given, no mercy shown even if the swarm could have shown mercy the Iron blade certainly didn’t, running each and every mutant they could find to ground like prey before a pack of hounds. This steady stream of combat would see each and every member of the Iron Blade in combat at some point as the swarm with its already reduced numbers forced to split its attention between the Cellborn force and that of the Hive-sec, the sudden hammer and anvil created by them crushing the swarm between to the point some warriors were reporting back to their thanes that the mutant packs seemed almost confused, unsure of what to do as lesser creatures slung away from fighting them, the great beasts the darkness was capable of throwing at them failing to emerge or when they did in far lesser numbers that the CellBorn had come to expect, some warriors would say they were almost disappointed in the lack of spirit and strength the swarm was showing, like the Iron Blade was being insulted by the pitiful show the swarm was putting on. That single emotion would be the driving force behind the army for the coming days as finally under the shadow of a great tower they would get the battle they had been hoping for, though the outcome would leave many wondering what they were exactly meant to do next.

Clearing through a sprawl of what had clearly once been markets of some kind the Iron Blade would come across a great open square, the ground clearly meant to be clear for some kind of assembly or address judging by how it was built when they still made things like this some thought. The Thanes taking stock of what was before them as they stood by the Thaig and Hersekal would all agree it was almost like someone had laid a great arena floor before them, a testing ground like the proving fields of the holds with them on one side, and the swarm potentially on the other. As if to prove their point a nest of harpies would detach itself from the tower and swoop down, the numbers to few to do anything beyond provide target practice for the long rifle armed rites covering the upper levels of the once open air market. Accordingly with the idea well and truly set in their minds the Iron Blade would do its best to goad the swarm into coming at them, baiting packs to follow them until come the middle of the second to last week of the season the swarm would finally respond, a great mass rushing their way as if to escape the approaching Hive-sec. The thanes would realise this was the case but still the opportunity to test their steel against the mutants on an open field was a glad one as they ordered their warriors into ranks, warbands forming up into shield walls with rites and the like nestling themselves overheard to form a wall of iron for which the retreating swarm to break upon. Using a number of other warbands they had pushed long ruined vehicles into place to block alley ways and ancient roads, channelling the majority of the swarm towards them like water rushing into a cup. The effect would be spectacular as the swarm, some creatures missing limbs or openly bleeding ichor everywhere from gaping wounds would crash into the waiting Cellborn, shield lines heaving into a whirl of bloody mess but importantly holding as the swarm numbers from behind hemmed itself in. The resulting clash would be as bloody as it was frenzied, individual packs of mutants though injured still capable of inflicting grievance wounds as they tried to claw their way through the CellBorn lines, though ultimately to no avail as each and every time they tried to use what momentum they had the Cellborn would feign a gap before slicing the metaphysical limb clean off, minute by minute grinding the m remaining swarm down until it reach a critical point of no return.

Here and there at first some lesser creatures would turn and attempt to flee, only to be crushed by others behind it, until other greater strains would slow, coming to a halt before backing away, attempting to get away from the cellborn lines. To those well versed in battle it would be clear what was happening, the remaining mass of the swarm spent and with ultimate destruction looming the hive-mind was trying to extricate itself from a intended trap, the Iron Blade scenting the chance for a decisive kill taking one look to their thanes and breaking into a charge. In the resulting aftermath units chasing down runners would find themselves encountering the leading elements of the Hive-Sec army, the so called 1st chapter, of what the CellBorn warriors weren’t sure but few understood how the hive-sec named their bands. Meeting in the shadow of a habitation tower the leaders of both armies would find themselves in an odd situation, the swarm was well and truly defeated, broken and shattered like so much broken glass. The CellBorn had slaked their thirst for battle for the first time in years, no holding at least 20 percent of the territory they were in, but conversely they now faced a battle hardened and ill-trusting Hive-sec army holding the other 80 percent, they clearly unsure of CellBorn intentions as the Iron Blade were unsure of theirs. Retiring to their respective camps the CellBorn would celebrate and drink well into the night, the air of the territory filled with their war songs and elations. For the gathered thanes however they would have other things on their mind, a message sent to the Thaig and Hersekal, the swarm was no more and though they had the numbers the prospect of facing a hardened and clearly well supplied Hive-sec force was not something they favoured, for the time being the two armies, pushed into proximity by the will to destroy a mutual foe leaving them squarely looking at one another, each with eyes on the others weapons.

### Summary:

Following the seasons  of idleness the Iron Blade have marched westwards away from the militarised territory they ahd conquered on the border with the Peoples. Passing back through the inhabited lands of the Hindered they have spent several weeks on the march before finally passing north and reaching their indented destination. Entering a Primus grade habitation territory the Iron Blade has engaged the swarm there that was already being engaged with by the forces of the Hive-sec, the resulting battle has seen the total collapse of the mutant swarm with light casualties on the sides of both the CellBorn and the Hive-sec. As such the Iron Blade sits in control of 20% of the territory whilst the Hive-sec army controls the other 80%, both armies have refrained from engaging one another and the Iron Blade awaits orders accordingly as to their next move. 636 mutants were confirmed slain overall, whilst only moderate losses of 165 across both armies were taken in return. (Note: Standing strength of the Iron Blade is at 2918/3000, 1st chapter now stands at 1600/2000 whilst the Swarm was eliminated and broken. Swarm has collapsed and dissipated)

### New Oaths Written upon Old

Whilst the news reaching the clan holds about the destruction of a true swarm has caused a noticeable uptick in those clans petitioning to be allowed to strike out into the ruins it is the smaller missive that reaches the thanes council that causes the most uproar though in a far more positive way. During the previous season the CellBorn had been faced with a test they were looking to ultimate fail, that being the looming starvation they were starring down the barrel of with little leeway in any direction to avoid it. Plans had been made and decisions tallied amongst the clans but before the greatest amongst them could call a moot the council thanes meet in a closed assembly, the high adjudicator present with the news that demanded their attention. Thought sorely pressed and outnumbered the clans that tread the green hold had managed to secure a node in the nick of time, seizing it through a melee of arms to ensure no CellBorn would ever face the test of hunger. This information is sent out into the holds and met with wild cries and roars from the clans ordinary, under hang bars and taverns filled with raised tankards to the name of the Earls , their timely intervention seeing many a clan wonder if their strength came from shrewdness, a wily form few could wrangle they say, older rites and Oathed nodding in agreement at the sentiment passing around. Either way with the threat of starvation held off for the time being the council not being one to sit on their laurels turn their efforts ensuring their back up plans serve a different purpose. Checking with various clans and knowledgeable sorts a potential idea is formed that could see be put to task in multiple ways, the Great Clans eventually settling on two that could be set in motion if they so wished. Presenting their options to the assembled clans during one calling a great wave of affirmation from those that brought them the chance is heard like a great voice, the high adjudicator having to call the assembly of clans to order with the threat of their blade as the commotion almost spills over to the pedestal of the great clans.

Whilst all this is going on however a more subtle piece of news reaches the Shieldborn, never the largest of the great clans their focus on the strength of spirit that sits at the heart of every CellBorn concerns them greatly. The decision to return the long dead to their kin amongst the Hive-sec had not gone unnoticed, the warband sent by the Iron blade’s current Hersekal to oversee it reinforced by a cohort of the ShieldBorn’s own warriors. What those combined clans saw at the gate to the Hive-sec’s western holdfast had a profound effect they weren’t expecting, the armed battlements and walls lowering their arms as a band of Hive-sec Thanes came forth to receive their honoured dead, taking great care with the remains as those warriors ordered to carry them formed up in ranks so sharply even the CellBorn wouldn’t need telling them the strength of pride and respect was pulling at those very warriors. The Hive-Sec and CellBorn have fought one another as often as others and yet in this case the returning CellBorn find a war band of Hive-sec covering them every step of the way, making certain no harm comes to them as in one instance a band of raiders thinking they had spied an easy target were mercilessly cut down before the leading ShieldBorn could utter a word, the hive-sec Thane, called a Leiu-ten-ant apparently; simply looking at them with their expression behind their balaclava showing they would not let an insult of injury be committed to those CellBorn, their own warriors giving the CellBorn a solemn nod before they parted ways. The Hive-sec for all their might have always been an enigma to the CellBorn, once an ancient enemy not a begrudging rival and friend at the same time, the respect shown to those Hive-sec raising an old idea long thought laughed into the annuals of history. Though others might jest at the idea the CellBorn and Hive-sec had more in common with one another than different, together representing a true military force that could sweep the ruins clear of any that opposed them. Returning to the holds the ShieldBorn would discuss amongst themselves a renewal of an old oath, their eyes filled with a keenness rarely seen as they wondered should the sword and shield stand as one.

### Summary:

1) Thanks in part to the efforts of those from Clan Early present the CellBorn have been saved from the brink of starvation through the successful securement of a node. This brings much needed food and special supplies into the CellBorn’s lands, as such the Thanes Council has taken the chance to examine their now unneeded back up plans and think they can turn them to a new potential. It will take some work but two options lay before them, one a potential market whilst the other a silo of some kind. Accordingly an adjudicator has been dispatched to discuss the potentials with the CellBorn in the Green Hold

2) With the decision to return the long dead to the Hive-sec the CellBorn present were witness to a rare sight, the Hive-sec guarding them as they left their lands with actual respect coming from every Hive-sec Soldier towards the CellBorn for their act, even from the Hive-sec leaders they called Officers. This feeling has left some wondering it the residual good will that has been generated couldn’t be extended or even made permanent some how, the ShieldBorn in particular very interested in this. As such they have dispatched one of their own to discuss the potential with the CellBorn present in the Green Hold

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