Let It Burn!

the Ferndalian plan for 1620

       Disgusted with his ministers and the failures of his Intelligence services Peter the Famished pounded his fist on the table and shouted once more, "Damn the North! Let It Burn! We have advanced thus far and I will not be distracted by the Freedonian adventurers and the turbulent Frozonians. After we capture the capital we can mop up those fools." He looked up at the cowering courtiers and asked in a darkly threatening tone, "Do any of you have something worthwhile to tell me?". The Minister of War exchanged glances with the Finance Minister, "Well , Your Majesty, I have good news from the west". Peter leaned back in his chair smiling vicously, "Do tell, my faithful servant", he enjoined.
         Igor Mankowski had served as Peter's Minister of War long enough to have learned that it was best to lead with the bad news. He had let the others broach the subject of the Frozonian atrocities and the failure of Boozonia to keep the Freedonians out of their lands before he began his dissertation. "Your Highness knows of the attack on the bridge of boats, a surprise to say the least. But meaningless in the larger picture as we had already resupplied the portion of the capital that the Small-Platers control. The attack stripped out a significant portion of the garrison of the northern third of the capital, it is now held by a skeleton force and we will likely be able to capture it by assault instead of a lengthy siege". He unrolled a large map across the table showing in detail the area around the Gluttonian capital, "Their infantry fled downriver in the pontoons, their cavalry is scattered to the winds while their Freedonian allies wander the swamps of our northern provinces"
        Peter held up his hand, Mankowski instinctively paused, "How long before the Proper Mealers can organize a response?" the King queried.
         "Given the distances they will need to march, three to five weeks", Mankowski's index finger stabbed the map at the location of the Gluttonian Proper Mealer winter quarters, "They are badly out of place, do doubt expecting that their friends northern adventure  would  keep you distracted".
        The King leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as he traced the path of the roads to the capital, "Deliver me unto that city and I will make you Duke of all the lands that fall to our swords this year" his voice was like the purr of a beast of prey. He leaned back in his chair, "Now go! Deliver me victories! I need to be freed of this lunatic Prince who has been wandering my palace; get him a throne of his own!"
        Minister of War Mankowski smiled as he walked down the hall to his office, "Duke eh? Of all the lands that fall to our sword?" he thought as he walked into his private chambers and looked at the wall map with the dispositions of the Ferndalian armies, "Well then, I will be almost a King myself, and Hanz will be Emperor of nothing"  he laughed quietly to himself then whispered, "Emperor Igor Mankowski The First".........

the (proposed) Grand Duchy of Mankowski