The Broken Crusade

After Isebrand was granted his Sylvan Empire by the Augus, he was obliged to at least try and spread the Trinitist faith. Of course, not really wanting to do this at all, he dragged his feet, but events would transpire that forced him to act.   The Satyrs had long been a target of conversions, with the Cult being disgusted by their rejection of proper "society" and their tendency to kill any missionaries who were brave enough to trek into the taiga. However, when the Immortal Kingdom still existed, it was a target of much higher priority, so the conversion of the Satyrs fell to the wayside. By this time, though, there was no Immortal Kingdom, and the Prelate of Selguro, Mateu Amorin, went on a pilgrimage to Histria. The pilgrimage, however, was not his primary goal. While there, he petitioned the Apostles for their permission to lead a Crusade into the Orienal Taiga, a petition that was granted. In 296, accompanied by a few hundred Nereid soldiers, Amorin would march northwards, gathering Dryad, Elven, and Giantic followers as he went. By the time the Prelate reached the taiga, his forces numbered a little over one thousand, though very few were professional soldiers.   Confident that the Gods would protect them, the crusading army entered hostile land. In less than a year, they were almost all dead. Armed largely with knives and clubs, and having never faced war in their lives, they were easy prey for the warrior women of the Satyr villages. In the day, they marched here and there, lost, starving, and tired, falling prey to ambush after ambush. In the night, as they sat around dimming fires, the crusaders would be woken from their torpor by the cry of a carnyx and the chanting of a Druid before arrows and spears came flying out from the forest. Far from home, freezing and terrified of every sound, the crusaders would die one by one.   Years would pass, and with no word from the crusaders, the Cult would come to know what had happened. The Satyrs had mercilessly killed good Trinitists, who wanted nothing more than to introduce them to the true faith, and this was a sin that could not be tolerated. The Augus would instruct the various realms of Oriens to teach the Satyrs a lesson, each one offering troops. A majority would hail from the various Nereid kingdoms, with those from the Giant despotates being second to their number. A strong number of Dryads were also offered to this united force, personally led by the Shahpur (Prince) of Arkadija, Elwand Mirzaii. The Sylvans offered the smallest force, made up almost entirely of Landsknecht, mecernaries traditionally hired by Elven nobles to do their dirty work. All together, the crusading army stood about 6,000 strong, and in the new century of 300, they set out for the North.   At first, the crusade was a success. Border towns fell to the sword with ease, and even beyond the frontier, no village could stand up against the Trinitist tide. It was this way for a year, with the crusaders being near unchallenged, but as the air began to cool, fortunes changed. Throughout the Fall, Seers across the taiga reported having the same vision: the Gods looking back on Ecumene as they left, the world drowned in Ash and then born anew. The message was clear. Ashamed of the races that they once loved, the Gods left the world, but would return when the time was right. If that time was ever to come, the Satyrs could not fall.   As Winter set in, casualties began to mount for the Trinitists. Just like those who came to this land before them, the crusaders froze and starved while on the march and while at camp, with nearly one thousand out of the six dying to the elements alone (including most of the Elves, who are incredibly vulnerable to famine just due to biology). This is not even counting those who fell to the Satyrs. When the next year came about, many crusaders, gaunt and pale, simply packed up and left, not worrying about ambush as much as they did about spending another day in the hellish North. Across the next year, thousands more would die to ambush and pitched battle, and while the Satyrs would pay dearly, largely due to their refusal to use steel weaponry or magic, practically all of the Taiga's women had taken up arms to defend this holy ground, and when if it came down to it, the men would not hesitate to fight either.   Unsurprisingly, the Winter of 302 came by, leaving uncountable corpses in its wake. Of the original 6,000, only about 1,650 remained, an absolutely disastrous number (although deseration rates among the crusading force were insanely high). At this point in time, command of the entire force fell to the Shahpur, as everyone else had died. A proud young man, he refused to concede defeat to their savage enemy, and as Spring entered in with full force, he would rally his men for a great battle. Over the Winter, Elwand (who had learned as much as he could of the Satyrian tongue), tortured a Satyr warrior and scried the location of an oracle from her. To that oracle the crusaders marched, the Shahpur waving his pulwar sword. As the oracle was holy ground, a force of Satyrs awaited them there, and at their sight, the prince ordered a charge. As the crusaders engaged with the Satyrs in front of them, none noticed that others had melted out of the forest, totally surrounding the Trinitists. By the time the moon rose, everyone was dead.   While the Shah of Arkadija was enraged by the death of his son and swore revenge, the war he ordered with the North would be one he took on alone, and one he would lose. Shocked and embarrassed that their armed and armored soldiers could lose so dramatically against unorganized tribals who refused to even touch steel and who were disgusted by magic not once but thrice, the Trinitist world mutually and silently decided that the Satyrs were to be left alone. As they were finally left to their own devices, the Satyr world largely returned to normal, though sporting some new religious beliefs about how everyone but them were scum who had betrayed the Gods and would eventually be purged for it. Largely speaking, this arrangement was maintained for a millennia after, until the Dryads would return to the North, seeking not Amenthes, but safety.