We’ve been travelling for about an hour or so now through the mists of Blind Man’s Road after passing by the orchards and farmlands bordering the city and I have been kicked in the shin, had my hair vigorously matted and been laughed at for nearly jumping out of my skin because I mistook a fox running through the brush for a wolf. I have missed my dear sister immensely and she’s as mischievous as ever. We haven’t seen each other for months and already it is as if we have spent the last several weeks travelling together.
Isabelle and I have been joined on this journey by two others. The first is Giles, a heartland native who owns the carriage and horses we are using to travel through Ayrlaston. He’s a bit of a grump if I’m being honest. One who smells vaguely of tavern ale and who keeps muttering about marauders and grimlurks under his breath before growling that he’ll not be going into the forest of Dyan to get to Stonehold despite the fact that I have told him we won’t be heading north for some time. If I’d had my own way I probably would have acquired the services of someone who might make this trek more agreeable. If the notes of my predecessors have taught me anything it’s that good company can make all the difference. However, Belle assures me that he could navigate these roads in his sleep if he wanted and so I will trust my sister’s judgement on this matter. Continue reading “The Journal of Felix Emberheart Part 2”
The country of Lochland has never really known true peace since the first settlers landed on its shores centuries ago, long before it acquired its present name. Tales of sadness and sorrow are no strangers to the people of the winter lands. The great Houses that rule the Court of Winter are quite content to feud with one another until the influence or possible intrusion of an outside force deems it necessary to renew ancient treaties calling to arms the combined might of the Court under the banner of the King. If you were to ask any person from another realm in Ayl’gard their opinion of these northerners you might hear words such as ‘stubborn’, ‘foolish’ or ‘hot blooded’. In contrast to this, another fitting description of the frost folk that can be attributed to them is loyal.
The Baine family were undoubtedly loyal to the House of Graveson and had been for as long as memory served. They manned a small holding of farmland along the road into Wintermere, the home of the Winter Court and its King. They professed no love for the other Houses of the city and sang few songs in the name of their monarch but before each evening meal, they would raise a mug in honour of their liege. Over the storied course of Lochland’s long history, many sons and daughters of the Baine family have given their lives to fight and serve on behalf of their Lord. Such was their staunch and unwavering fealty. And so it was to be again when the bloody hordes of the Dothylfar began their Harvest in the east, the call to arms was sent forth through the realm. This call was led by the House of Graveson who would personally lead the charge against the encroaching band of warmongers. Knowing that this family have served them well in the past, a personal letter addressed to them was sent by courier to summon them into service once again. A knock at the door came late in the night upon its arrival and without hesitation, Duncan Baine grasped his late father’s sword, said goodbye to his family and left to fight without even waiting for the light of the morning sun to guide his journey. Continue reading “The Price of Fealty”
The wait is almost over. Tomorrow is the day I will finally leave Amberfall and embark on a journey I’ve been waiting for ever since I saw my first map of the Wester Vale in father’s study as a child. A chance to fulfil my dream of seeing the world, not through the journals of my predecessors or in the paintings of Goldhallow Hall but with my own eyes. I have been commissioned by the Baron of Amberfall and by the edict of King Dagon to travel the realms and chronicle my findings. Every decade or so only a select few scholars are chosen from all over Ayrlaston to journey both within and beyond our borders into the other realms, to discover the state of the world and its people. I am tasked with reporting on the current state of our neighbours, noting any potential new trade opportunities and recording even the slightest possibility of new threats to our kingdom, among other things. If I’m fortunate, perhaps I’ll even find something new, something no one has ever seen before. There is no greater triumph for a scholar. The excitement is almost unbearable.
We’ll be stopping by the Aeon Citadel before departing. My sister, Isabelle, has been granted permission by the Arch Magisters to accompany our party and so will be joining my expedition. At least until we arrive in Frosthaven. Apparently she has some business to attend to with the Alchemy Guild and so it makes sense for us to travel together. It’s been six months or so since we last saw one another although it is difficult to ignore the tales of her achievements flooding the streets of the city since I left, not that I would. From the taverns of the Old Quarter all the way up to the nobility of Cherry Lane, it seems the entire city of Amberfall has been talking about her triumphs. Being a mage was always her true calling and she has undoubtedly flourished since we last met. Belle wasn’t too thrilled with the Council of Magister’s decision to end my stay at the Citadel and they’ve kept her busy ever since. It will be good to reconnect after all this time. I have missed her. There were few I could call friend whilst I was there, her company certainly made my work a little easier to tolerate. Continue reading “The Journal of Felix Emberheart Part 1”