The Ruin of Fomoria 8

Every few months, another envoy from the Lion Kings would demand our unconditional submission. The wives of the Fomorian would ambush the diplomat after he'd say his piece, and keep him for their own nefarious ends. An apoplectic Tuan would raise his arms to the sky every now and then, shake his old head and warn of dire perils and huge swarms of warriors about to engulf the kingdom. I am convinced it was an act. And some young Fir Bolg would arrive and report another victory against the Great White Bull's armies, with little casualties on our side.
There was an undertone of growing danger to these reports, though. As our army got closer and closer to Machaka's great walled city of Mababwe, the armies of the men kept swelling in size, while ours was cut from reinforcements. The squad of javelinists led by Chief Coamghan had had to turn back and return to the nearby fort in Mount Jome, rather than staying idle for months. With springtime, the rivers had become impassable. Cold winds were swept away by unnatural heat, pushed by the drums of the men. Morale was falling in the ranks. This was unsustainable.
Tuan, in his spare time, had drawn a rough map of the world, with the location of some arcane places of power of Valanis. His theory was that this Aithon entity would try to claim them in order to compel all peoples of the world to acknowledge his sovereignty. Angus had completed the map with reports about strange empires his men had explored.

Turns out Aithon had already staked its first claim. According to Tuan's explanations, there was a magical gate in the hills north of Mababwe, standing at the edge of the world. Through this gate, it was possible to travel to the Moon where, once, the supreme god ruled from his throne. According to Tuan again, the Machakan armies had made the trip and exterminated the local population of men and giant white apes that lived there.

Angus also told me about huge battles in the Far East, between the empires of Ur and Berytos.

In other news, a family of enchantresses had been found hiding inside an empty root of the giant Tree of Nern. A Fomorian druid had kidnapped their youngest and oldest and the whole bunch of them was now working for us, half-drunk and half-frozen. A strange pilgrim had come in Nern and performed a sacrifice of blood to the tree, too. Reports were sketchy and I had trouble making sense of them but there was some bad mojo at work.

Year 3 - spring
21 provinces, 1294 gold, 201 rp, 34 gems and 3 slaves a month
The newest Machakan stack is 220 heavy. I think I will manage that with 50/55 warriors and a bit of PD, but if it keeps growing I will need to retreat. The gold and gems of those Northern provinces are good though.
As you can notice on the map, I have begun to expand in the sea and on the other landmass. An Agarthan army is sitting on the Throne #2 and I want to expand into the remaining independents of the region before I get into a conflict with the troglodytes. A summoned black servant is exploring this area.
I am trying to rush towards Construction 6 even though I now think I should have gone the Enchantment way. The thing is, I have not found any Death site so far, despite some manual searching and extensive use of Dark Knowledge.