# No Dominion ---- by Eosin



## Eosin the Red (Mar 8, 2004)

*And Death Shall Have No Dominion*
_by: Dylan Thomas _

And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion. 

*No Dominion*.... An adventure to defy death itself!


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## Eosin the Red (Mar 8, 2004)

No Dominion is set within the Echoes of Glory Campaign World. It is a world where fantasy and myth clash in a romantic version of the reign of the barbarian empires (950 to 1100 AD).

In Middea, two dynastic struggles threaten to plunge the kingdom into civil war. The king has disinherited the grandchild of his most powerful vassal, the mighty lord of the Eastern Marches, and Marshall-General of the Realm, the Duke of Wingate. The lords of the realm fear madness has gripped the throne, to alienate the defender of the realm while the Eastern Marches are all that stand between the heart of the Realm and the King's mad half brother, Prince Caras. Amidst the turmoil over the crown, the young Prince Rafn comes of age blessed by the gods of old, within his hands is the power to heal even the most grievously wounded. Some whisper that even death is may not deny his call. The price of Middea’s Glory will be measured in blood and death.

To the West, the mystic Athan Re quietly raise the banners among the Free People. A call to the Glory of what once was and what will be again. The clan leaders speak of the Free People, who once were and who will be so again. Glory among the Free People has faded but it is not forgotten, it is both the Redeemer and the Reaper. 

In the Middle Kingdoms, the mighty Vintrian Empire rots while the Defender of Mankind is consumed with efforts to stave off death. The Empire lies fallow, controlled by courtesans who supply the husk of their dying king with potions and magics to extend his existence. In Vintria, Glory is the castrated husk of an empire so self consumed that it does not understand that it has already passed from this world.

In the frozen north, an ancient battle rages in the Fallen Kingdoms. Honor is entombed with the bodies of those who held any, and nobility has been bled from these lands. Here death waits, and all else is a distant dream of the Glory of bygone days.

While men seek personal and national prestige, the fetters of the Adversary have begun to close unseen by a world that has forgotten. Can men endure this, the third and final battle with the Enwrathi? Men who are mere Echoes of the Glory that once was.


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## Eosin the Red (Mar 8, 2004)

Coming soon.....the introduction and in a week the adventures begin in earnest. And it is about time, I have been working on this stuff forever.


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## DMO (Mar 8, 2004)

Sounds good so far, Eosin.

Is the politico-geographical picture you've presented one that's specific to the Echoes of Glory campaign setting, or is this of your own devising?  Also, I really like the suggestion that great healing magic is something notable.  Even moreso with the death-bending stuff.  Finally, good job on the catchy title for the story hour.  Wish that I'd taken it first.

Post more soon.


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## Eosin the Red (Mar 9, 2004)

*Here is the campaign introduction. Players are not required to have attended the School of Peers [see story] but the game will start with the assumption that all players are somehow connected through the School or the later Academy. Two of the PCs did attend the School, one is still deciding, one is still creating his character, and the final character had nothing to do with the school itself. *



*Merrik’s Tale*

The king placed his arm around Merrik, the old bard had trouble with stairs of late. It shocked him to discover how well the bard’s robes hid the weight loss.

‘Merrik, it would please me to see you perform one last time before the court. They all bicker and gossip about whom I will pick to replace you. I would like to remind them one last time that you cannot be replaced, that when you have passed none among us will have lived during the age of the hero kings.’

‘I believe you should pick Fingold, he has the voice and he has a sharp…’

‘Stop’ interrupted the king. ‘I am sorry Merrik, I know your opinion on Fingold. I also know that you are distracting me from getting your commitment to recite the Mabinogin.’
The old bard watched the king for a moment, his thoughts taken to another king in another age. His king. His age.

‘I will do it, but not for your court. I will do for the memory of your grandfather. I’ he paused ‘We would all do well to remember his strengths’ the old bard’s gaze held the kings for a moment ‘and his weaknesses. The tale will serve you well in the future.’

The king laughed at the bard’s forwardness. ‘I often forget that those who watched me suckle from the Queen-mother, rarely grant me politeness’.

‘I often forget that if my king catches me on the stairs he will hold me here forever with useless wagging of his tongue. However do you manage the kingdom sire?’

Startled the king realized that they were on the same step where the conversation had begun. After he helped Merrik to his room the king closed the door, but not before Merrik had another spell of coughing. ‘Do not worry, young kingling. I have it by Royal decree that I must perform in less than a fortnight’.

The grand hall was packed for the chilly celebration of Sojen’s birth. Fires burned in the great hearths, allowing all present to momentarily forget that winter would soon be upon them. Merrik entered after the meal. As always he wore the old robes of his office as Master Herald. The bard shuffled towards the stage that had been built for this evening’s tale. Although it violated tradition, the king came down from the head table to help his old mentor onto the stage.

‘My lords and ladies, the king has asked me to share the tales of the Mabinogion with you this evening’ began Merrik. He paused for a moment to judge the crowd. His vision was fading, but the bard could see well enough, even had his sight been completely gone. The hall was filled with fops and sycophants who knew nothing of war or of sacrifice. The unworthy youth that must support his king’s heir. Merrik wondered if he would have thought anymore of himself, he wondered what his mentor Donnel must of thought of him seven decades ago in this very chamber. Did Donnel feel the same sense of guilt to be leaving the world in such incapable hands?

‘The Mabinogin is your Legacy, it was for this.’ He lifted his arms to sweep in the crowd…’For you. Most youngsters ask me to skip ahead to the ’Good Stuff’ and in my youth I have done so from time to time, but tonight I will tell the tale in it’s entirety. The Mabinogin begins before the Hero Kings were born, or even before their parents were brought into this land. It is as old as death, but that story has yet to tale its tale. We are more interested in the Hero Kings and Middea, and THAT story begins in the year 1051, on the night of the Black Battle; the night that Cindares and Nydara struggled near what is now called the Battleford. The battle between brother and sister is only the catalyst of our story, but know this, these two Elder Beings, these Celestine, hated each other more than you can fathom. When they came together in battle, it would not…nay, it could not end until a life was destroyed.

The life of an Elder Being is a reflection of the Flame of Eternity, it touches the Primal essence of all things, the sacred fire that animates us and gives life. A piece of that true essence is housed within the Elder Beings, whether they be Ennwrathi or Celestine. When a container for that shard of divine essence was destroyed it sought to rekindle itself, and the Flame of Eternity is truly enduring. Many women heavy with child awoke suddenly that night, these babes were to become the Hero Kings.

At first, many lived life as you or I might, some as noble born and others as commoner. Eventually, all of these children would recognize their heritage, else they perished. King Sorin Ragnerik had ruled for nearly two decades when it was discovered what these children could become. Many blame King Sorin for the tribulations that followed, but those who knew the king believed his motives were pure in the beginning. What king could resist endowing his bloodline with the powers of the gods? King Sorin was a man of duty, and his duty was to the kingdom, not his 8-year-old son and heir. None know for sure if Rafn was truly from the king’s loins, but all know that a minor noble woman named Risha Lind had long been the King’s mistress. She birthed Rafn on the Night of the Black Battle, making him one of the Blooded.’

Merrik looked out meeting the gaze of one of the young Knights, his bearing much like that of Kristan in his youth. The bard saw other vacant eyes in the crowd. He chuckled. I hate explaining stories.

‘A wave from the sea appears to be moving only when it breaks, but long before that the force of the wave is traveling towards the shore. Though it was not seen, does not negate its existence, the same is true with the Blooded. Shadows and dark things had been in motion long before Nydara’s death, and there was whispering among those who celebrated the Flame Eternal. Few knew the extent of the shadow war taking place while these children grew into their heritage, the beginning of the Anathema.

Most stories date the beginning of the Anathema as the early spring of 1057, when King Sorin divorced his wife Janiece and disinherited his son Andris. He went against the advice of his councilors and immediately married a minor noble woman from the Lind family, she was to become the most reviled queen in the history of Middea: Queen Risha. The heir to the Triple Crown was her son Rafn. Friends of King Sorin claim that the deed festered in him until his end. When he divorced Janiece he offended the greatest magnate of the lands, Duke Rhys Mithrandall, Margrave of the East, Earl of Claypool and Tristor, and Marshall-General of all Middea. The powerful duke took steps to ensure that his daughter and grandson were safely escorted from the capitol of Middea, Chandra, to the Duchy of Wingate. Though this black deed was done in the interest of the kingdom, it would forever set the Dukes of Wingate against the Ragnerik kings.

The Margrave of the East was engaged in a war with the Palatinate of Lorain, and to busy to press his grievances with the king for several years, but his court faction soon found itself distinctly out of favor. With the Margrave busy elsewhere the king moved unopposed.

In 1060, Queen Risha announced the opening of the School of Peers. The school was open to all children of age with Rafn and care was taken to bring children from all over the Triple Kingdoms, so that the young prince might learn more about his countrymen.’ Merrik paused for a drink. The bitter wine was laced with essence of odnium. He hated how the drink dulled his wits, but feared he would be unable to continue without it.

‘So, this then is the beginning of the Hero Kings. In order to understand the Hero Kings, you must understand what happened at the School of Peers. The school was used to find other children who might be Blooded, those who proved to have the spark in them were separated from the others.

What these children, my friends, endured they would not confide in me. Even in old age, as death crept up on those lucky enough to embrace the specter gently, these men still wept when reminded of the school. I know some, bits and pieces given away over drink and such. Many were kept isolated seeing no others except for Prince Rafn, and their trainers. They were allowed to visit with one friend, usually a girl or boy of their age chosen by their trainers. They were denied names; instead they were called by the weapon they were to train with that day. Many times they would be forgotten in their cell for days at a time with no food or water, only to have the prince rescue them. The trainers would frequently beat them, many of the children died from these beatings. I asked a trainer once what caused him to beat such defenseless children, and he told me that all of the trainers drew straws at breakfast each morning to see who would beat their charge that day. It was completely random, the beatings were to teach the children that life was suffering, and the only time they would not suffer was when they were with the prince. If the beatings had been for discipline, the children would have learned to tolerate it for their perceived infractions of the rules, by making the beatings random it forced the children into a state of complete submission. Nothing they could do would change the pain; only the Prince could make it stop.

As the children grew they were forced to do cruel things, at first to animals and then to criminals. The prince would often be at hand to watch them kill, if they failed to do so he would look saddened and explain that because they had disobeyed him he would be unable to visit them for the next several months. This statement frequently broke the children, but those who accepted their fate were beaten more frequently than usual. When the Prince returned he would ask that they perform the task set before them so that he could continue to visit them. Eventually most of the children killed whatever they were asked to kill, without question, without hesitation. When they were done with their grizzly task they would look for the Prince to see if they had pleased him.

The bravest man I have known told me once that after several years of this inhumane treatment, he was brought before the Prince and told that in the next room was someone who had greatly offended the Prince and that they must die horribly. When he opened the door he found his chosen playmate, or as the trainers had begun to call them since the onset of puberty his breed mate. He told me that she took over a day to die.

The children who made it this far were called the Blood Guard, bound to the Prince in their soul. Most did not make it this far however. A few escaped on their own, but a group known as the Shield Knights secreted many away from the compound. The vast majority were slain by Prince Rafn. He began the ritual killing of Blooded children when he was nine; by the time he was twelve he had begun to ritually sacrifice other children or adults who displeased him. He told Mortimer, the dark mage who engineered most of the atrocities associated with the school, that he could tap the Elan of all beings even those who were unblooded. Most believe that at twelve Prince Rafn was already a powerful vessel of the Ennwrathi, and needed death to live. Those who died at his hands were not merely killed, Rafn turned death into an art form.

How many children the Shield Knights secreted away I do not know, but it must have been a little more than a few dozen. They began to unteach these children. They forced them into strong bonds of friendship, put them into tests where only teamwork would succeed.

Discipline was harsh under the Shield knights, but totally fair and measured. A list of rules and punishments was placed in the areas frequented by the children, it was the first thing they were taught to read. The rules never changed, and the pupils were always punished in exactly the same manner each time. The knights and their associates worked to teach a sense of responsibility and control. Children were encouraged to seek out their rightful punishment if they broke the rules and explain why they had done so. Many of the tests engineered by the knights required the breaking of the rules, giving each person power over their environment – if a child chose he could refuse a test. But refusing a test meant that he could not advance. He was allowed to pick the time and manner of his punishment.

The children were divided into groups that had complementary skills. They were housed together, fed together, and trained together. The sleeping quarters were open and had enough bunks for all but one child. The food was prepared for all but one child. The weak and the timid usually slept on the floor and went without food, until one child asked an instructor why another child must suffer just because he was weak. The Knight replied that the weak child did not have to suffer, his friends chose for him to suffer. Only they could solve the problem of the weak being denied what the strong took. Soon the children took turns in bed, and each skipped a meal at their turn. These things did not change overnight, and many scuffles among the strongest children arose from these changes. Leaders arose who help organize their and other groups.

The children were encouraged to name their ‘band’, and competition was encouraged among the differing Cohorts. Though these children had been battered, they were not broken, but it took a long time to undo the damage.

During the training, the gifts of each child were noted and encouraged. A rare few possessed the gift of magic and these were eventually sent off to the Muldegians for further training. Some went to foreign schools to learn combat; all were given every opportunity to develop their talents. Many became men and women during these years. Soon these virgin blades would have to be tested to see if they held the tempering.

Each cohort was brought to Seven Oaks where they stood beneath the great tree and given a mission, they must live as a commoner for one year and a day. Each child was given a map and a family that he or she would become part of. The weapons and armor were taken, the arcane writings stored for future use, and a warning was given to each child. The prince taught you to kill, we have given you skills, and demonstrated that you must rely on one another but we cannot teach you to be people. You will live as a common man, working the lands and animals with your hands. If you cannot do this without violence, if you seek fame or glory, if you try to rule over those who are your family you will fail. Do not return, but if you can do these things return to the tree and we will see what the future holds for you’.

Merrik looked down, he thought about the many times he had met at that monstrous old oak. Many of his friends had asked to be buried there. He had asked his king once what the significance of the tree was.

‘Merrik, for you life has always been what you planned for and worked for. We never knew what that was. The tree was our freedom. It was our secret dream, to be able to choose what we wanted.’

‘Do you youngsters understand the significance of the tree?’ Ironic in a way that under this very tree Sojen had proclaimed his people to be free. The real name of Sevenoaks, should have been Sojens Oak but some scholar somewhere made a mistake.

A few heads nodded. ‘Good, then let me tell you about the first meeting beneath the tree. I was there, and I will never forget when they came riding from out of the woods, those who passed the tests were more than men and kings, they were the sharpest blades forged by human hands and minds. It was the fall of 1075 and…….


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## Eosin the Red (Mar 9, 2004)

DMO said:
			
		

> Sounds good so far, Eosin.
> 
> Is the politico-geographical picture you've presented one that's specific to the Echoes of Glory campaign setting, or is this of your own devising? Also, I really like the suggestion that great healing magic is something notable. Even moreso with the death-bending stuff. Finally, good job on the catchy title for the story hour. Wish that I'd taken it first.
> 
> Post more soon.



This is my homebrew that has been on the back burner for awhile but finally got moved up to center plate. Since the game was just starting we discussed a campaign log and the players really wanted one....I always wanted to try a story hour so badda-bing-badda-bang. 

BTW - It is a low occurance but high magical power type of world. Closer to what you see in fiction than in most D&D games.

Here is to a long and hopefully, enjoyable game and storyhour.


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## Eosin the Red (Mar 20, 2004)

First night of the new campaign, so we provide a little bump for the players.


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## Fimmtiu (Mar 21, 2004)

A very promising beginning! I love the scene of the dying man looking out mournfully over the assembled youth. Looking forward to seeing how it develops.


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## Eosin the Red (Mar 21, 2004)

*Echoes of Glory Campaign*
The opening scene takes place in the provincial capitol of Draysen County, a walled town called Redgorge, it has been a long winter and spring is just now arriving and with spring comes the season of war. This is an accounting of the adventure as told by Lady Isolade who is not present until sometime later in the telling.

Freya and Arron, two survivors of the infamous School of Peers, had arrived in Redgorge during a spring downpour. The rivers were swollen with snowmelt and the air was still chilly. Lady Brennica, the countess of Highvale and patron of the Academy, had sent the two of them to enquire about the recent raids in the region by the barbaric Vindel tribesmen. It was surprising they made such good time, unless Freya and his command over the weather had something to do with it. Upon arriving, the two of them settled into the local inn of some repute – I believe it is called the Wanderer’s Rest. 

I have long puzzled over the presence of Nagus, a paladin of Brynn within the bar and his continued presence among us. While I hate to lay credit on the feet of the Celestine, I can think of no other reason for his presence. I have yet to decide if this is something good or something that should have me worried. When the divine meddle in the affairs of men, nothing good happens. He was hard to miss, a towering albino with piercing blue eyes, not something you see everyday.

Finally, Jayme Wingate a younger son to the highly respected Duke of Wingate and the infamous bard Torean Norhill had just arrived in Redgorge from the south. Destined, so I hear, for Highvale.

The town was in disarray and near panic caused by the death of the Captain Commander of the Countess's guard, Sir Goran Toras. The Inn was full of nothing but talk of how his body was drug through the town by Lagos the Skindancer who took the body right up to the keep itself.

It became apparent after some questioning of the town folk that Lagos and his boss had intentions to marry the countess, which would not bode well for young Bren Draysen who is due to come of age in six months. Sir Jayme had some previous dealing with Lagos and knew why the countess’s guards had left her; Lagos was widely despised and known for his penchant of skinning those who displeased him. 

Freya and Arron braved the downpour to visit the fortress proper. Discouraged by finding the gates unmanned and the few men-at-arms on the grounds unwilling to challenge them, the pair walked into the fortress without fanfare.

Young Bren greeted them from the stairway, he held his fathers sword like he knew what he was about but it was obvious to the experienced warriors that he was untested. Accordingly, he waved the sword about and challenging the men and exclaiming his intent to fight them rather than let them have his mother.

The situation was calmed when Arron explained that they wanted to help the countess, not wed her. Arron indicated that a messenger had been sent to Highvale some days ago and that help should be coming from Highvale in less than four days. By the time his explanation was done, the albino paladin from the inn was standing in the doorway, soaking wet. After another round of introductions the Lady Draysen and her newfound guardians discussed matters at hand and the possible goals of Lagos and his superior, Earl Kerwin Riddik. 

Meanwhile, Sir Jayme Wingate and the Bard Torean had some conversations with the locals. The locals related that the increasing raids by the Vindel had become more violent than usual, while the barbaric hill folk were rightly feared, they rarely killed without reason, but the raids of the last two months had been wanton butchery.

The two were bound for Highvale but Sir Jayme felt that his father would desire for them to assist Lady Draysen. The Countess had always been a firm supporter of the Duke and with his troubles in Chandra, and the Duke Wingate could scarcely afford to squander any allies. They also reasoned that if the county of Draysen were to fall into the hands of Earl Riddik, they would also lose Highvale since the mountainous province traded much of its mineral wealth for food and other subsistence items. Earl Riddick would only need to close the roads or place an unreasonable toll at Woodbridge to effectively starve the province out. Deciding that Draysen must remain free, the bard and the young nobleman began the soggy march to join those already locked in discussion within the fortress.

Jayme and Torean also walked into the open doors unopposed; thankfully Torean accustomed to the finer things in life, like heat, closed the doors.

The Countess tried to convince the party to flee with her son but several of the more martial members of the ad hoc group tried to form a defensive plan to hold the town. Eventually maternal instinct won out, if the boy was killed the Countess would be forced to remarry, perhaps not Riddick but she would find herself with a royally appointed spouse. Bren Draysen was due to come of age next season and should he live long enough, it would be a simple matter to reclaim his Earldom. 

Royal edict prevented those with titles less than ducal from raising more than 100 armed men, for personal use. Even assuming that Earl Riddick ignored the ban, it is unlikely that he could or would desire to face the Duke of Wingate and his famed military on the field.


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## Eosin the Red (Mar 21, 2004)

*Torean Norhill's Account of Events*

*One of the players is a bard and has decided that he will keep a personal journal of events in addition to the DM's version so here we go with a nice double dipping story hour.*


Eosin


*Lago’s Folly*



I awoke on _Arbor Day_ in Orenstone. The Earl of Northrun_,_ and I have been staying here these past few weeks. On this day, we were summoned to a meeting with Duke Rhys Wingate_._

Jayme, with whom I have been traveling, was ordered by the Duke to make the journey to Highvale in order to meet with Lady Brennica. He had some hopes that the lady would provide some aid to his military campaigns in the upcoming summer. I was asked by Duke Wingate to accompany his son on this trip, he felt that I might be able to get some useful information about the Academy, to which he provided generous financial support. The Duke received frequent reports but as most men of his station, he often liked to obtain his own information unpolished.

Our trip was not pleasant, the spring rains and winter thaws made mud our constant companion. We encounted burned out freesteads that seemed to be the work of raiders. Perhaps it is the work of Vendel raiders, but they rarely kill and destroy, they merely steal. After several wet days on the muddy roads we arrived at the town of Redgorge to find that all was not well. We noted an unusual number of people seemed to be leaving the town as we arrived. We headed to the local Inn, the Wanderer’s Rest, to see about gaining lodgings for the night and to try and find out what was afoot.

The two of us began questioning the locals about recent events in an effort to determine what was happening. Why were people leaving town? Where were all the town guardsmen? The tidings we received were ill indeed.

Yesterday the Captain Commander of the town guard, Sir Goran Toras, was apparently murdered. Lago, a lieutenant of the Earl of Hailen, Kerwin Riddik, had dragged his body though the streets of Redgorge. He unceremoniously dropped the body off in front of the fortress of Countess Drayson. When his entreaties went unanswered, several locals overheard him making a declaration about returning two days hence. Many of the town guards and the local citizenry are now in flight from the town for fear of what the morrow may bring.

The Countess Drayson is a widower with a son who has yet to reach his majority. Such is the hazard of such an unwed noble woman. A new marriage and the tragic loss of the rightful heir and the lands would fall to the new husband, however unwanted he might be. It is thus that Lago’s master seeks to expand his own holdings. A terrible injustice looms nigh.

Lago is also known as the Skindancer due to his unsavory practice of skinning his enemies. He is a harsh villain, one who blurs the distinction between civilized man and the monstrous trollkin. From the tales I have heard his mannerisms are more in keeping with the latter. Lago’s master, Earl Riddik, is not a well-liked man. The aged Earl Riddik is a bitter man who desires to expand his holdings and with age his ruthlessness, and lack of tact, has increased.

The innkeeper recognized me soon after we arrived, I get that a lot, and the usual offer of free food and lodging for an evening’s performance soon followed. I consented to play but a few songs for the crowd, I could tell they sorely needed what cheer I could grant them. I was unable to accept the Innkeepers offer since Jayme had resolved that we must make for the fortress to talk with the Countess Drayson.


We arrived at the fortress to find the gate open and the guards missing. Within we found the door to the great hall was standing open and we feared the worst. Fortunately we soon found the Countess Drayson and her 16-year old son Bren in discussion with others who would aid the noble Countess. The other men who had come to the Countess’s aid were; Nagus Pantojan, a Paladin of the god Bryn, Arron Termen who appears to be a worthy warrior, and Frya a mage. This bodes well I thought, for Earl Jayme is also a mage. Mages are very rare people and having two in the small town of Redgorge was so unlikely as to be preposterous.

Our council lasted only a scant hour before it was decided that we must escort the Countess and the heir to safety. We chose to use the manner’s escape tunnel into the mountains since the roads of the town would surely be watched. Once away we would flee toward the Eastern March and thence to Brayport. In Brayport we could find a safe route to Orenstone and the protection of Duke Rhys Wingate, Margrave of the Eastern March, Marshall-General of Middea, and the father of Earl Jayme. A trek through the Eastern March was a risky course but also much less likely to be watched. We were barely to emerge from the escape tunnel before we had our first encounter with Lago’s men.

We emerged to discover the weather had again turned and rain was falling steadily. Wooded mountains in the dark in the rain are one of the chief reasons I prefer Inns. Arron scouted the immediate area and soon found very fresh signs of a horseman in the area. We could not turn back now so we began to venture out. Alas we were almost immediately challenged by a group of 4 footmen. These turned out to be some of Lago’s men who were scouting the area and happened upon us by chance. Arron and Nagus valiantly met these enemies and though out numbered two to one, they made quick, and bloody work of the overmatched soldiers.

As the battle ended a lone horseman appeared at the edge of the clearing. We knew that we could allow no fugitives for the escapee would surely bring the balance of Lago’s men upon us. Frya the Storm Mage mumbled under his breath some arcane words and coursed through the very air at the incredulous horseman. The horseman’s amazement soon turned to horror as with another spell the breath escaped from his body with a wisp of vapor from his gaping mouth. The horseman fell gasping to the ground and the Storm Mage landed and cracked his head with flat of his blade.

We soon revived the felled horseman, the only survivor of our enemy. From him we learned who they were. Another spell from the Storm Mage ensured that the scout would sleep for many hours so we hid him in some nearby brush. The bodies of the footmen were tossed off the side of the mountain to allay any clue from whence they had fallen. The rain was our ally in covering our tracks. I know not what became of the horseman’s mount.


The climb back down the mountain was exhausting and harrowing but we made it without mishap. The boy Bren had a near fall but was saved from a plunge due the quick and strong hand of the Paladin Nagus. We managed to traverse the valley and reach the mountain pass to the Eastern March by the next evening.


As we made camp we were one again unfortunate enough to encounter a contingent of Lago’s men. There were nearly a dozen of them and Lago was with this party. We resolved that this could be a very dangerous fight and so I volunteered to try and bluff our way past the patrol. I have always been skilled and thinking on my feet and fortunately that skill served me once again. While the Countess Drayson and Bren hid under covers in our makeshift shelter I, Nagus and Arron greeted the patrol. I explained that we were seeking Vendel Raiders due to the bounty that had been placed upon them by the Earl of Terse, a man well known for his unending hatred of the Vendel. They bought it. Since I was recognized I said that I was accompanying these hunters in order to write a sonnet about the great Vendel hunt. Lago’s spokesman, for he would not talk with us directly, told that they were hunting outlaws, a woman and a boy who claimed to be the Countess Drayson and her son. I offered to accompany them on their hunt since that sort of intrigue sounded much more worth of a story. They then hastened to leave since they sought no notoriety in their real endeavors.

The next day we encountered some miners in the pass who warned us of a pair of trolls in the vicinity.

Fortune shined upon us in the planes of the Eastern March. We soon encountered a century of troops belonging to Duke Wingate. Earl Jayme ordered them to accompany us to Brayport and thus the rest of our trip was very safe and uneventful.



The town of Brayport is where I grew up and my stepfather Roth, is the owner and Innkeeper of the Lucky Monkey. It is one of the finest Inns in all of Middea and we soon found warm greetings, good food, and friendly people. We soon resolved that we had to send word of the happenings to Highvale of what had transpired in Redgorge. Fortunately I was acquainted with Tael Noried a female guilder who often had goods running between Brayport and Highvale. For the price of an evening’s entertainment for her and her party she was glad to arrange covert delivery of our message to Highvale.

The next day we, with an escort of a dozen of the Duke’s troops, set out for Orenstone, the capital of the Duchy of Wingate. We encountered Lago and some of his men at one of the towns we stopped at overnight. But now we were on the Duke’s land. We had the Captain of the troops inform Lago that he and his men were not welcome here. Heavily outnumbered they peacefully left.

We are now in Orenstone and the Duke is happy with our actions. The Countess Drayson and her Son are safely under the Duke’s protection and two centuries of his troops are now marching to Redgorge to expel Lago’s scum and Earl Riddik’s men. On the morrow we will bid the Countess and Bren our farewells and resume our journey to Highvale.


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## Edsel (Mar 22, 2004)

That last bit looks pretty good. Oh wait... I'm the one that wrote it. 

Edsel: player of the character Torean Norhill.


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## Eosin the Red (Mar 29, 2004)

Part 2
The group began preparations for a long overland journey. The maids were dismissed but two butlers, Tollin and Gordy had decided to remain in the fortress in an effort to maintain the illusion that the Countess and her son were still present. The toothless old men also had a few surprises for Riddicks men when they tried to take the place. No one had any delusions that anyone remaining in the fortress would be treated with any civility. After several hours, the makeshift party began to climb the hidden stair that provided an escape route for the noble family should the worst occur.

In the darkness and rain above fresh horse sign alerted the party to a scouting encampment. The battle was swiftly closed with arrows being useless in the deluge. The most fearsome aspect of the battle occurred when Fyre summoned the breath of the enemy captain in the darkness, dropping him from the saddle dazed and easily captured.

Bodies were hidden or dropped to the cobblestone far below before the captain was awoken and questioned. The men were ordinary soldiers from the county of Trier. Fearing pursuit the party pressed on in the darkness until they reached Gorn's cleft a narrow defile that provided access to the valley below. The route was treacherous but navigated without injury.

Camping until nightfall let the rain lessen and gave the refugees time to form a plan and get some much needed sleep. With nightfall it was decided that they would flee across the valley and attempt to ford the raging Bray River. The band rightly suspected that both Brayford and Woodbridge would be well watched. All seemed well until the swollen river came into view and Jayme Wingate began to lose his nerve. In the predawn hours Jayme had a few drinks to settle his nerves while Fyre summoned arcane spirits to draw a rope across the river. More than calmed by the strong drink, the refugees realized that Jayme would need assistance across the river. 

Making quickly for the Southern Craghorns lest they be caught out in the open, the party collapsed barely noticing their drenched beds. The next day saw more progress into the foothills towards the Eastern March and safety. Drader's Gap was also washed out but still navigable. Early the second day the party joined a makeshift camp of miners searching for gold. The miners warned of troll activity in the hills and of the Vindel raiders who were burning villages along the foothills. Torean spoke with the miners at length discovering that they thought the party to be Vindel headhunters after the bounty placed on the thieving savages by the Earl of Terse. 

That evening the party’s camp was set on by more than a dozen men led by a mousey looking figure of nervous mean. The party had little notice but enough to get the countess & her son out of sight. Striding forward, the Bard Torean, spoke with the master at arms for the group, less soldiers than highwaymen. Blessed be Ro, for the corporal had seen Torean perform once in the halls of Lord Bailstone barely two summers ago. Torean explained that the party was hunting Vindel raiders and he was traveling with them in search of some stories. When questioned about the missing countess and her son, Torean perked up and asked if he could travel with the band of warriors on such a noble quest. Stymied, the soldier spoke with the mousy leader, who was later discovered to be Laggos and the troop quickly moved off.

The next few days were rough travel across rougher terrain but without incident. In the Marchlands the party acquired an escort consisting of a full century of men under the service of General Fenthalion, commander of the Eastern March and vassal to the Duke of Wingate. The group was escorted all the way to Brayport and into the territorial lands of Wingate. Torean took up with his family at the Grinning Monkey Inn while the tired travelers rested from the journey before setting out for the capitol of Wingate, the Fortress at Orenstone. 

The journey was a quiet one in the lands of Jayme’s father barring an incident at the Wandering Minstrel Inn where the party found Laggos seeking arrangements and asking after them. Sir Jayme Wingate, son of the duke simply commanded the vile Laggos to be directly gone from these lands on pain of death.

The fortress at Orenstone proved both intimidating and welcoming. The duke welcomed the Countess and on hearing her story the Marshall General of Middea dispatched four centuries to quell the unrest in Draysen. Meanwhile, the party collected gear and set to make for Highvale at the soonest opportunity.

Nagus, the Justicar spent many hours alone with the duke and before he left, proclaimed him to be a most blessed man and supporter of the great struggle. Other happenings surely occurred but remain unspoken at the time of this writing.


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## Eosin the Red (Oct 11, 2004)

I have been keeping up with the Storyhour - just not on ENworld. I will attempt to remedy that. 

Part 3
Still muddy from the spring rains, the roads into Draysen took the party through the lands of Lord Bailstone. The lord is known as the Troll of the Gravewoods for his fierce demeanor and unrelenting battle style. His infamy through the lands of the east had everyone on edge. Noble titles and famed performances would not afford one leniency in under the harsh laws of the Gravewoods.

The party felt more at ease when they reached the rustic town of Woodbridge. The most southern crossing of the Bray River by foot or horse, the small town held strategic and economical power disproportionate to its size. The feeling of relief was short lived. In the central square of town was a pillory surrounded by small folk chanting for the death of some unlucky soul. Arron pushed his way through the crowds to see what was transpiring while the rest of the group headed for the Weary Traveler, an inn famed in the region for its fine fare and comfortable accommodations. 

Chained and miserable in the center square was a Mendicant priest and Bishop of Draysen, the father Haerflyn. He face was battered from thrown rocks and his fine clothes stained with spoiled fruit. Arron stood in front of the Bishop in a rash moment and declared the priest to be under his protection, at first the crowd seemed ready to surge forward and teach the warrior the folly of his confidence but before they could do so, the pale form of the Justicar made his way forward. Faced with two warriors, one the intimidating albino in service of the Mighty Host the crowd quailed.

Meanwhile, in the inn Torean had spoken with the barkeep and discovered that the Bishop had admitted to helping hide a runaway Vindel savage. The mayor of Woodbridge had taken the priest into custody to save him from the refugees of the Vindel slaughters but when the mob began to threaten the mayor’s home with fire, he brought the Bishop forward with a sentence of the rack for five days and nights.

After long and heated discussions on the best manner in which to proceed, it was eventually decided to speak with the Bishop and if necessary guard him for the next several days. Arron had been speaking with the pilloried priest while the party cavorted in the inn and eventually relayed the whole story to his companions. A young Vindel man and his companions had been set upon by raiders east of Woodbridge. Wounded and bleeding, the leader of the group had sought shelter within the temple of the Great Fellowship. The Bishop was leery of the huge savage but saw in his heart that the brute cleaved to the tenants of the faith and was a good man. 

Unfortunately for everyone involved, the Vindel warrior had been tracked to the temple. The region has suffered greatly under the recent raids of extraordinarily brutal Vindel raiders and the locals along with refugees from the Vindel raids were in a mood for a lynching. Fearing for the life of the young man who had entrusted himself to the care of the temple, Bishop Haerflyn helped him escape. But, the mob had the taste of blood in their mouths and they would not be satisfied with the bishop’s perceived betrayal. Fortunately for the bishop the mayor arrived and took him into custody. Fearing for the safety of the town, the Bishop pleaded with the mayor to sentence him to the pillory - with the blessing of the Great Fellowship (The mayor rightly feared retribution for sentencing one so far above his own station.). The party decided that the good bishop could not be left to the mercy of the angered refugees and decided to protect him though his sentence.

With guard duty decided, the party settled in for a long delay. The night passed uneventfully, but the early morning duty fell to Fyre and the storm mage did not return to wake his relief. Fearing the worse, the party braved the rain to find Fyre near death with an arrow in his chest and the Bishop’s body already cold. Fyre was taken to a local healer, while she was not trained in the ways of the Order of Apathos, she was able to stabilize him.


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## Eosin the Red (Oct 11, 2004)

Part 4
Scouting in the rain proved fruitless. No trace of the assailants could be found. Jayme and Torean felt that perhaps a professional tracker might be needed if they were to catch the assassin (and by the shot that took the life of the Bishop he was an expert marksman). The two of them roused the Mayor, who was put off by the intrusion but quickly cooled when he discovered that he was speaking with one of the Lords of Wingate. The mayor directed the party to a woman come recently to these parts and who had just came to the mayor yesterday to offer her services as a tracker. That woman just so happens to be me (Isolade).

Leaving their gear, the party raced head long in the muddy predawn to my makeshift home where I was waiting for them with my gear packed and ready for the long journey ahead. Arron and Freya were familiar to me as men who had spent time at the Academy where I occasionally taught woodland skills. Making quickly for town with a minimum of discussion the men watched me perform my assigned duties as if expecting that a woman might not be able to manage the task. Soon, the party packed their belongings and made to meet me on the outskirts of town. I noted rather quickly that we were headed into Gravewood county and the home of the infamous Earl Bailstone, a man known for his penchant towards violence and oppression. By nightfall we had arrived at Lichefield and I was fairly confident that our prey had also entered the small town.

The bard Torean & Arron entered Lichfield where Torean plied his trade well at a dismal inn called the Good Rest. Before they had retired to the rooms for the night they had learned that a party of five warriors had arrived a few hours earlier under the command of one of the men know to enforce the will of Earl Bailstone. Sir Karse was known as a violent and rough man who took great pride in his bloody work.

We had spilt the group in two, half camping in some near by woods and half in the town, several days passed before we were given a chance at the killer. For men who value honor and justice, the party I found myself traveling with had a knack for the fine art of the ambush. The sniper and his men never even drew weapons. Arrow fire, including my own, made short work of the unarmored men. Fearing to leave a trail and also desiring to send a message, the men left sign that Sir Karse and his men had been done in by a Vindel raid.

Returning to Woodbridge nearly two weeks later we found Fyre was up and if not hale at least ready for the ride to Redgorge. I elected to continue my travels with the party at the command of my mother superior, and truthfully I had best not remain in one spot too long lest my past catch up with me. Spring was fading and summer well on its way as we entered Redgorge. It had been nearly two months since the men had joined company and nearly a month since I had joined them. 

Torean made several comments on how Redgorge had changed dramatically since their hasty departure, buildings had been burned, pleasant streets ruined, and the fortress had been sacked among other things. Fluttering above the fortress was the welcoming sight of the Draysen colors and below them the colors of Wingate. Soldiers moved briskly about their business in the streets and peace had come to the quiet little county.


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## Eosin the Red (Oct 11, 2004)

Part 5
While collecting additional supplies we were surprised to be approached by a large Vindel youth. His scars and massive size deterred many who would have taken advantage of his youth but not the guardsmen of Jayme, who had been a quiet presence until now. Standing, the two giants nearly came to blows and the hate in the eyes of Sir Jayme’s guard foreshadowed problems to come.

The Vindel youth, called Ivanic explained that he was recently rescued by the Bishop Haelfyrn and had seen their faithfulness to him. Honor demanded that he avenge his fallen fellows and those who had caused the death of the Bishop indirectly. He spoke at length with the party pointing out inconsistencies with the "Vindel Raids" and the way his people raid the lowlands. The Vindel do not take enough to force people off of land, they do not kill needlessly, they never leave slaughtered animals, and they do not burn villages. To do these things would cause the raiding lands to be abandoned or heavily garrisoned both of which could jeopardize future raiding. It was not the way of the Vindel to raid like this. Already understanding these things and aware that the raids were just a cover to seize Redgorge by Earl Riddick we agreed to help the Vindel find the raiders.

Several weeks sifting through burned and abandoned villages revealed little other than the depths cruelty of the raiders. Eventually we discovered a recently raided farmstead, one with fresh tracks for me to follow. We trailed the raiders into the foothills, eventually realizing that the raiders were headed south using the Craghorns to hide their movements. Taking to the lowlands, where we could out pace the raiders we drove our horses like mad to get ahead of them and then intercept the killers. Once again, arrow fire proved to be the downfall of unarmored men, these friends of mine all have the making of fine woodsman. Searching the bodies we discovered that the raiders were headed to a base camp several days to the south.

Scouting out the camp proved to be easy but taking the hollow it rested in would be another matter. Nearly a dozen raiding parties used the hollow as base camp with permanent sentries and a defensible approach protected by a wide stream. Formulating our strategy, we removed the northern sentry in the dark of night. Using the hole we had created we advanced on the sleeping camp hoping to bring death on the sleeping raiders. 

I had wondered about the possibility of other sentries and was not amused to be spotted by a distant guard as we began the dirty work. The camp was turned into an inferno of burning tents and dying men and women. Fyre and Jamye, for the first time unleashed the devastating power of Elan (magic) at their command. The raiders were panicked by the amount of raw magical power commanded by our party and with the disorganized defense they were cut down easily. Arron & Nagus had made their way to the command tent and just as Laggos the Skindancer was exiting. What ensued was a dramatic display of weapons work, perhaps some of the finest that I have witnessed, as Laggos transformed himself into some monstrosity with claws and fangs. As the surrounding battles dwindled the creature that had once been Laggos sensed the turning tides and chose to flee. His were-form was much to fast to follow.

In the morning we finished collecting what valuables we could find and returned with several horses to Redgorge. The commander of Redgorge took note of our report and would return the goods to the growing number of homeless and needy in Redgorge. He would also see to it that the Duke was informed of his son’s findings. 

Satisfied that we could do no more, the journey to Highvale awaited us but not before we departed company with Ivanic the Vindel.


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## Eosin the Red (Oct 11, 2004)

Part 6
Upon returning to Highvale we made plans to attend a circus. On the journey to Highvale we had heard several rumors about the circus which had a nefarious reputation in the towns of the valley. Unfortunately we encountered a brawl between two young lads over the affections of a young lady immediately upon entering the circus. The cheeky lass was fearful that the boys might hurt each other. Unable to stand the comely young lady’s distress - Nagus, Arron, & Leonidas taught the town what brawling really looks like. We all felt a bit uncomfortable as the one of the teens and both of the fathers were carried away on stretchers, the girl, of course was sobbing at the display of martial prowess. Looking for a place to hide from the stares of the crowd, we decided to check out the freak show.

Within the tent of the freak show were several odd looking creatures, including a dog boy, midgets, bearded ladies, a giant man, and even a slug man. The last caught the attention of Arron who scrutinized the charred and melted form of the pitiful creature he had found. Convinced that there was something familiar about the mass of flesh he attempted to speak with it. I know that Arron was shaken to discover that the man was none other than Hiblus the Black – once the head master of the school of peers and a man who had abused Arron and Fyre in ways unmentionable when they were children. Arron Left the circus and re-joined several other members of the group who were promising a young lady that they would take her away from the circus that evening. Sometimes I wonder why I travel with men who are so blind to the ways of the fairer sex?

At Arron’s demand we made plans to raid the circus that night – plans that included taking the girl and Hiblus. We arrived shortly before sunset and met Eris, the young lady held against her will by the circus masters. She asked help in retrieving her mother’s wedding ring from her tent before leaving. Several of the group followed her to the carnie section of the circus, where they encountered Madame Zora a seer of some repute. Several of our party spoke with the Madame about issues that they have kept to themselves, however Torean was unable to get the answers that he sought and was instead invited to call upon the Madame in a weeks time in the town of Brayford (just down the valley and one of two ways to cross the Bray river). Leaving the tent we headed to the freak show, noting for the first time a separate tent housing a creature called the White Serpent.

With a mixture of magic and stealth we rescued Hiblus without fanfare or combat. We secreted him away to the Academy where he was questioned by Arron. Apparently, Hiblus had been a cruel and vicious head master at the School of Peers but what had troubled Arron the most was his complete dispassion – he beat the children and worse but never took either joy or remorse in the beatings. It was just something that he did. Now, Hiblus was in the hands of those whom he had crushed but his legs had been amputated, most of the left side of his face charred beyond recognition – a charring so deep that his teeth protruded where his cheek should have been – and the rest of his body appeared to have been liquefied before gelling into its current form.

Several of the students who had survived the School of Peers discussed what was known about Hiblus (In all there are less than two dozen survivors at the Academy). He was a master of the dark arts of Necromancy and once an Archon of the Vintrian Synod. While his necromantic prowess was unchallenged, he was also recognized as a powerful wizard even barring his powers over the Ennwrathi. He beat the children without mercy, joy, or regret – occasionally even using the powers of necromancy to inflict pain that went far beyond anything that the human body was meant to experience. There was no act so foul that he would balk, nor a sight so gruesome as to cause him to turn away.

The questioning lasted several days and the once mighty Hiblus never resisted the questioning. The truth of the matter was almost beyond belief. Prince Rafn, master of the School of Peers and heir to the throne of Middea had committed to some act so black that even Hiblus rebelled against it. Believing himself to be more than a match for the prince he struck with all of the powers at his disposal. He lost. The prince made a lesson of the broken mage – fearing neither the knowledge nor the necromantic power of one of the mightiest mages in all of Middea. Hiblus was questioned repeatedly and even compelled to answer what it was that the prince had done but to no avail – the knowledge simply was not there. Whatever the prince had done would remain a secret for the time being.


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## Eosin the Red (Oct 11, 2004)

Part 7
We made plans to speak with the Duke of Wingate about the news from Hiblus. Reaching him would be a challenge; he had retired to the Fortress at Ridgewall and was expected to take the field in the Ravenswood sometime soon. Collecting supplies we set off to find Jayme’s father – the Duke of Wingate but first we needed to stop at Brayford and speak with Madame Zora. Among the other secrets that Torean was keeping from us was his desire to know the answer to a certain question. 

Before we left out Arron, Nagus, & Alacran had the occasion to meet a Vintrian swordsman by the name of Leonidias who took up travel with us for his own reasons.

If the encounters at the circus went badly the week before they were a disaster in Brayford. We met with Madame Zora. Torean apparently discovered the information he sought but also discovered that the White Serpent sought to destroy us.

While we were getting ready to leave, I spied the movement of several crossbow welding thugs who seemed intent on killing us. Arron and Nagus sprang out the tent drawing their fire in a blur of motion. Neither was seriously wounded but found themselves facing nearly a dozen armed men – thankfully once again none of them were armored. The Ringmaster seemed ready to fight until he saw up close the destruction that my companions were capable of unleashing. Instead, he ran into the big top.

Rapidly dispatching the assailants we gave chase, hoping to catch the ringmaster but he had unleashed several wild creatures and the knife throwing triplets who were one of the major draws of the circus. Fyre summoned vast amounts of Elan, rising into the air searching for the ringmaster. Less taxing but no less impressive, Jayme used the torches within the tent as his eyes seeking the coward within the big top. What Jayme saw was not the Ringmaster; it was a scene of carnage. A lion had broken free in the commotion and had killed one of the trained goats – at the sight of a wild lion in their midst’s the crowd had panicked stampeding the exits. Torches were overturned and fire rapidly engulfed the big top. Fearing the loss of hundreds our way against the crowd in an attempt to rescue those trapped within. 

Sooty and coughing we emerged from the tent as heroes but heroes who had lost sight of our prey. Both the Ringmaster and the White Serpent had escaped into the Bray River where I could not track them.


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## Eosin the Red (Oct 11, 2004)

Part 8
Torean and I had been sharing a bed for sometime when the other members of the group were otherwise occupied; even still it was quite a shock when they discovered my indiscretions with Torean. The trek through the Eastern Pass of the Craghorns was arduous as always but even more so when I began to suffer sickness in the mornings and we were forced to call the march while I heaved my breakfast. Soon, the others began to suspect what I already knew - more than merely bad food was the cause of my condition. I never realized that Arron & Leonidas felt so strongly about congress. It caused a bit of fury amongst the men, however even delayed by morning sickness and occasional bouts of bickering that strayed close to open violence we reached Ridgewall within the month.

_Ridgewall is the most secure fortress in all of Middea – and boastfully within the world. The fortress is situated atop a 200 mile long cliff face that ranges in height from 50 feet to 125 feet. The wall, while assailable in many places without rope, prevents any real troop assault. At the foot of the Fortress is a smaller fortification called Breaker Keep – to gain access to the narrow defile leading up the exposed cliff face one must first take the well fortified lower fortress while it defends itself. To make the task more harrowing arrows and worse rain down from the fortress proper. Many of the best generals will not even consider a siege, instead leaving a contingent of men out of bow shot to hem the garrison in._

The ascent into Ridgewall was impressive for those of us who had never been here before. It is an active military fortress and was quite a sight. Ridgewall normally houses a contingent of nearly 2,000 trained soldiers but the numbers far exceeded that today if I can count. General Isam Fenthalion, reputed for his stern leadership and iron nerves normally commands the fortress but at the present time he had taken to the field with the Duke. Serving in his stead as commander was Jayme’s brother and heir to the ducal seat of Wingate – His Grace Jhoren Wingate. It was obvious that Jayme both looked forward to and dreaded the meeting with his brother and someday his liege. Jhoren is everything that his brother is not; loud, confident, and commanding.

The Jayme was invited to a private dining with Jhoren. He later told me that the meal was an austere affair with Jhoren displaying his typical warrior’s bravado and occasional recklessness. Jhoren told Jayme that he would be taking 450 mounted warriors and 10 scouts into the Ravenswood after their father and that he intended to meet an army that had gotten past the duke in the dense woodland. After small talk and fine food, Jayme came to speak with us and detailed his brother’s plan. Several of the more military minded commented on the stupidity of bringing such a large force of mounted knights into a woodland without a huge contingent of foot to screen. Arron went so far as to call his grace a “knucklehead.” Fearing for the life of his brother Jayme sought out the commander of the garrison in an attempt to stop Jhoren but was informed in no uncertain terms that Jhoren outranked everyone in this fortress and even if the idea was bad – it was his to make. It was also pointed out by the Captain that Jhoren was a veteran Captain-Commander and was highly regarded for his skill at the craft of war.

The next morning saw the departure of Jhoren and his warband but not before my wedding to Torean, I should say Lord Torean but I think I will spring that one on him later. Many of the soldiers stopped by to wish my husband well but many were bemused that one of the most famous philanders in the realm would find himself wed in a fortress that could not be escaped. As if that was an accident?


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