• Crusader Kings III Available Now!

    The realm rejoices as Paradox Interactive announces the launch of Crusader Kings III, the latest entry in the publisher’s grand strategy role-playing game franchise. Advisors may now jockey for positions of influence and adversaries should save their schemes for another day, because on this day Crusader Kings III can be purchased on Steam, the Paradox Store, and other major online retailers.


    Real Strategy Requires Cunning

Deaghaidh

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"Here is a thing unheard of in history. An army of dwarves under the standard of house Deagrin, marching under the command of an orc. Still, you have proven more than competent thus far.

Emir Saladin's action has delayed the advance of the enemy somewhat. But in time the fires will go out, and the horde will march again. I hope that the seeing stone has given you a insight as to how to stop this."
 

BlackBishop

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From Fire, To Blood​

Having stopped the Corpus horde at the great river, Emir Saladin was powerless to hold the horde once the dragon oils burned out, and the undead began crossing the river once more. As his casualties began to mount, Saladin retreated to a fortress north of Mutikabir. As the dead surrounded the walls of the fortress, the hearts of his army soared as a large force approached from the East.

Ra'Gru of Goi'Orka, Lord-General of the Golden Army commanded a staggering force of nearly 30 000 troops. Such unity had not been seen since the early days of the Empire.

The great host drove deep into the Corpus Horde. Saladin opened his gates and led a sortie to pin the horde between the attacking force and the walls of the fortress. Though their casualties were great, the unified army was able to crush the horde and build great pyres to burn the dead. First Seed is now over, and the month of Monsoon is now upon Agorath, but the threat of Corpus is still very much alive.


Victory!​

Remaining Troops​
Ra'Gru of Goi'Orka leads 8 000 GA and 4800 of Clan Goi'Orka
House Deagrin, led by Deagrin Wrothiron 4100 w/ 2200 House Urist
House Kalare, led by Kvothe Kalare 3900
House Krestarii led by Asharian of Krestarii, 3700
Mistress Eylinn sends 3100 Troops
House Frostservd led by Alföðr Frostsverð 400
House Coalmenel led by Armas of Coamenel 3800
House Huaindren sends 4600
3200 of Saladin's Troops Remain
2900 Emir Asads Troops remain​
Corpus outbreaks are still occurring within Highathar, Hroniden, and have spread to Galadriel!
Players within these territories will suffer from misfortune rolls until their armies make their lands safe!

Nord Slavers have been reported to be raiding up and down the coast of Galadriel!

Players must decide whether to remain with the Golden Army under Lord-General Ra'Gru of break off​
 
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BlackBishop

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((A new round of war orders are now open! As well as plots - still no Diplomatic orders yet!))
 

BlackBishop

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Calender of Agorath

Sun's Shadow
Named for the ecliptic alignment that takes place the third week of this month, Sun's Shadow is the beginning of the new year and often a time for drunken revelry across Agorath. This month is typically cold in the lands across agorath, even in parts of Hroniden.

Snowfall
The winter month of Snowfall is aptly named for the heavy snows that often occur. The northern Rill River becomes impassable by ship and all of Norseland, Galadriel and Highathar are typically snow covered for the entirety of the month. Ecclestius is often snowy in the north and cool and rainy in the south. Hroniden experiences some of its coldest nights this month.

Serpentine
The revered month of Serpentine is named for the mating season of Flamehead snakes in Hroniden, who emerge from their burrows in droves to find mating partners. Religious festivals and rituals mark this month in Hroniden to celebrate the Creator and His creations.

Snowsmelt
The winter snows generally recede in this month and most mountain passes in Highathar open once again. Riverlands often flood in this month and many northern beasts emerge from hibernation.

First Seed
The month of first seed begins the crop season for farmers in Agorath. Unlike southern Ecclestius most of Agorath relies on a shorter growing season and marks the beginning of the planting season.

Monsoon
Heavy rains tend to plague Agorath in this month, but the heavy precipitation does have its advantages as it is attributed to the growth of crops planted in the previous month.

First Harvest
Warmer, drier weather in First Harvest make this month an ideal time to reap the crops planted two months before. Plentiful food usually leads to many festivals in this month as well the great buffalo migration as the beasts migrate from southern Ecclestius to the North.

Dragoon
The month of Dragoon, named for the emergence of dragons across the land, is a time of festivals and hunting. Though traditions dictate lords hunt dragons this month, most settle for boar, and understandably so!

Last Seed
Autumn is beginning to turn the land and growing season is dwindling to an end for most of Agorath. Farmers use this time to plant one more crop before winter. Weather generally begins to cool and days begin to shorten.

Hallows
This month marks the anniversary of the great battle that saw the Dark One banished from the realm. People of the land take time to remember the great war, their ancestors and heroes and celebrate the Light. Shorter and cooler days are often filled with revelry this month.

Last Harvest
Autumn is in full swing this month and it is the last chance for a final crop before winter comes upon the land. Feasts to celebrate the bounty of the growing season are typical in households across Agorath. Days are short and the nights often cold.

Lights End
Eluded not only to the shortest days of the year, but also the time when magic disappeared from the world. The occasion is commemorated more often than not, by firework displays in town squares from Hroniden to Norseland. Snows often fall this month in northern Agorath and heavy rains in the south.​
 
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Groogy

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(( Is there a "pause" in the fighting now? As in I can collect my fallen for burial and talk with my thanes? ))
 

unmerged(271387)

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"I,Urist Wonorm,herebly believe that all armies should remain together.After all,two in harmony is better than one in perfection.Breaking off,even in smaller groups,would lead to our amries being decimated by the coprusmen.However,I also believe that the regions of Highathar and Hroniden should be cleared from Corpus.It should be our top priority,since both of these regions are really important to the Empire's economical stability.Highathar offers a variety of metals and weapons,while Hroniden produces the largest supply in grain and other varieties of goods.Since the disease just spread in Galadriel,the infected must be few and as such,Galadriel can defend itself.However,I condemn the raids of the Norse slavers.Their actions couldn't be any more ridiculous."
 

Bialaska

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Ambassador Perseus looks down at the recently received letter, before addressing the Assembly.

"While my liege, the Lord of Three Rivers, actually thought of doing a contingency in secret, he has reconsidered and will instead seek the support of the entire Assembly."

He pauses.

"With Chief Ra'Gru becoming the Lord Commander of the Golden Army we have shown our trust in him. But my liege believes that while trust is good, it is better to always have a contingency, just in case something goes wrong. The Lord Commander came here, telling of his encounter with a strange artifact, allowing him to connect with the Necromancer, learning certain secrets. We hope that Ra'Gru has such a strong mind that he remains untouched, but the worst fear is that he has been influenced."

"Therefore, on behalf of Count Justinus Celestian of the Three Rivers, I ask that the Assembly makes the right decision. That they will support a plot that will place masters of the silent death in the entourage of Ra'Gru. These will remain passive and secret, only becoming activated if Ra'Gru shows signs of corruption, of being under the control of the foul necromancer. This will not be murder, but should be considered an act of mercy, by ensuring that the name of Ra'Gru and his family will not be sullied, and because it may save thousands upon thousands of troops who may have been led into a trap by a pawn, albeit unwilling, of the Necromancer."
 

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For Glory, of Memories Unspoken

The room was flooded by puzzled eyes and shocked expressions when Zelpher began his tirade. Eylinn stared at her defender, not sure what to think of it. Gratitude? Shame? As the Elf ended his speech with an apology, he left the room to calm himself down.
“What just happened?” She asked Alvon with a faint whisper.
“You’ve lost the argument.” He said with his usual blank expression.
“Are you serious? Why me?”
“He defended your honour.” She shrank a little in her chair, and imagined being invisible for a moment. She wanted to say something.
“Should I say something?”
“Oh dear... No, no.” She was at a loss. Politics was hard.

How could no one see she just wanted the fighting to stop? For the rulers in the assembly to understand the plight of the whole realm? How Elves were abused by the Nords? Kvothe seemed to have taken great offence to her speech, but it wasn’t meant as personal. Indeed, she was furious with his actions, but most of all, she didn’t trust him. And how couldn’t more people see his past actions as a treachery towards all life living? Could he just not have admitted he had done wrong? Could no one else see it at the very least was untimely to prioritize conquest with the current events unfolding?

Zelpher returned to challenge the Nord to a duel. She liked that. With a little luck, the rugged thug could be slain. “What a horrible thing to say.” Her mind, heart and hands were struggling to grasp the concept. “You’re letting fear take you over again.” Funny, she wasn’t aware her fear had ever left.

She looked around the assembly. Wrothiron, of the Deagrin Dwarves, already had his one eye fixed at her. “He probably hates you for what happened to his kin.” That wasn’t fair. From Eylinn’s memory came the instant sensation of Burntbeard’s blood covering her face. “It wasn’t your fault.” She shied away her gaze downwards, inspecting her hands that she had placed on her lap. “Maybe he just thinks you’re weak.” She was not aware that there was any dispute in that regard.

It became more and more apparent that the duel was not going to happen. Ra'Gru stormed in, revealing the news of the plot to find a weakness in the necromancer.
“We better prepare the men.” Alvon said more audible this time.
“Yeah...” The assembly had closed. All that remained was war.

Eylinn sat in her tent, resting her head on her hand. “Your first time leading the men into battle.” She smiled. At least this she knew she was good at. “How would you know? You’ve never done it before.” Her smile disappeared. This was no time to doubt herself. She started thinking about nothing instead. Much better... A captain entered the tent. She straightened her back and looked at him.
“Mistress, the troops are ready to march with the Golden Army.”
“Understood.” The captain beat his chest in salute. He quickly looked down on the ground below Eylinn, then turned and disappeared through the canvas shield. What was that about? She looked down. Her leg was shaking.
“Dammit...” She hated diplomacy. Playing brave for a few hours at end weren’t her forte it would seem like.

Alvon entered.
“Well. They’re moving out soon.” He said.
“Yes, just let me fetch my equipment and we’ll be...”
“You’re not going.” Eylinn froze in her step.
“Excuse me?”
“You won't be leading them.” Her ears turned red.
“Don’t be ridiculous. This is no time for jokes. Save it for the ride south.”
“I’m not joking.” Eylinn became irritated. She wrinkled her nose, putting her instable leg behind the more obedient one.

“You don’t have any saying in this. Now, if you don’t want to go, I won’t stop you. But you should start guarding your tongue around me. I’m a ruler, and I’m no child no more.”
“You’re right about that. And you’re not going.” She approached him, trying a different tactic.
“Look, I hate those meetings. I’m not even trying to hide it. They do scare me. So if you could stop acting like my guardian for a second and actually be a little supportive, I would appreciate it.”
“I am. You’re not going.” She turned sour.
“Enough! Leave me alone!” And just as she was about to turn around, Alvon pushed her to the ground. “What... How dare you?!” She got on her feet, practically exploding. Alvon pushed her down again. “Stop it!” She made a graceful jump back up again. And again, Alvon just pushed her down on her back. “Get out!!” She furiously pointed at the door, her whole body burning with rage. Alvon grabbed her hand and forced it to the ground as he bowed down with his knee on her stomach. It was painful. “What are you doing?! You’re hurting me!”

“You’re not going. That’s the end of it.” She was powerless. She tried to hit him with her left hand. In what must have been the split of a second, Alvon raised his knee, and trapped her free arm under his boot, right by the wrist. He now sat on her pelvis, and it hurt.
“Enough! This isn’t even remotely funny from any angle anymore! Get off me now, or I will call for the guards!” Alvon slowly drew his sword and placed the tip, right over her heart. She was paralyzed, speechless. “They bought you... Those Nords... How...?” She tried to read his face, but it was in its usual, emotionless state. Her eyes teared up. She fixed them at his, trying to read his soul. There was nothing there. An enigma. “How could you do this to me...?” She whimpered. She had given up.

“You’re not stable.” He left her gaze, and moved it to the blade. “You were weak in that room. That’s why you’re weak now.” She wasn’t ready to die. Could she top Kvothe’s offer, whatever it might have been? She wanted to give him a price, but her lips only briefly opened and closed. Her voice would break.

“I... I... Just...” She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. “Please don’t make it hurt... Please do it clean.” Her every syllable trembled. Alvon didn’t seem to pay any notice.
“It’s time you start using these.” He lifted the sword and tapped the blade on her left breast. She stopped breathing. She started shaking. The world turned purple and distorted. She jerked her head to the side, still refusing to breath.
“You fu...” She had yet to inhale, hissing the words as they came out through her teeth. “Fu... Get... Off...” She would not open her eyes.
“It’s about time you grew up. Your father is dead, and your sister’s your heir. If you don’t have a child, your house will extinguish. Cease to be. No more flame of Barumin to protect the Green Chasm.” She altered between heavy, and no breathing. Tears had made the soil wet, and dirtied her face. “There was not a man in that room who didn’t desire you. You could have any of them to marry. You were blessed by the Light in this regard. You must use it, or others will use it against you. Without a marriage, you leave your people to fend for themselves.”
“Off... Get off...” She drew a few heavy breaths. A strange mix of rage and mind-numbing fear was boiling up at an alarming rate inside of her. “I... Will... Kill you... ” Alvon lowered an eyebrow. “You... Sedated... Bag... of Filth...” She inhaled through the nose, relaxed her shoulders and tilted her head into the grass, exposing her neck. “Kill me... Clean...”
“What in the world happened to you? I thought I’d seen all you’ve seen for the past six years.” Alvon studied her. Her increasingly pounding jugular exposed her racing heart-beat.
“Shut... Up... Kill...” She opened her eyes and looked at him, a stare with an almost unnatural glow. “Me...”

Alvon was unfocused for not even a second, and she took her chance. With almost impossible force she broke her right hand free and pushed his sword, hand guard first, into his forehead, so hard he was forced backwards. With a roar, she had slithered herself from under his body, grabbed the sword, and hit him over the temple with the hilt. He flung helplessly to the ground, and dark, red blood formed an elegant stream from his ear to his chin. She drew the sword over her head, as far back as she could muster, point aiming towards his face. Her right leg stretched backwards, she shrank, leaving no opening and making herself a small target. It was perfect. She had a predator’s eyes, and her face was twisted. The kill would be fast.

But then her face suddenly lost all activity. A blank, sad expression spread over it. Alvon’s sword fell from her hands. Her breathing settled. She stood up, only to fall to her knees.

“Nice punch.” It seemed only fair of him to say, for it was.
“I thought they'd bought you...” She kept staring at him in shock. “You made me ready to die...” Alvon stood up, slightly dizzy and disoriented. He walked up to her and put his hand on her head.
“There’s nothing in this world that could buy my loyalty. That part of my life has passed.” He crouched and laid his arm around her, her head rested on his chest. She wanted to say father, but she didn’t speak. “But I will tell you the hard truths. And I don’t tell hard truths gently, because you’re no gentle woman.” She looked up on his face. “You’re a warrior, with a frail soul.” She looked down again, not exactly comforted. “You can’t stop nature. Children grow in women. And we will need the help from another house.”
“I won’t. I won’t ever.” They both rose up. “I will marry my sister to someone. But I will never...” She swallowed to stabilize her vocal chords. “Please, just don’t ask me to. Because I won’t.”
“You’ve been shaken since Highothar. You should head home.”
“Yes. I will. Fine.” She smiled again. “Live to fight another day then.” Alvon inspected her visibly.
“You’re dirty. You should clean yourself up.”
“Yeah... I will.” Alvon left the tent, leaving Eylinn alone again. “Don’t leave me...” She said to no one.

After some serious washing and a dress change, Eylinn spoke to the troops and told that she would not be joining them, or lead them into battle with the Corpus horde. She assured them no Nord would be leading their flank, and that you can always trust an Orc in command. She warned them that among the plagued armies were men from their own lands, now corrupted and out for the blood of their own. She told them to liberate them in a manner they deserve. As true Elves of the Chasm. Then she and Alvon rode north in silence with a small entourage.

And so ended her first Assembly of Lords.
 
Last edited:

BlackBishop

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(( Is there a "pause" in the fighting now? As in I can collect my fallen for burial and talk with my thanes? ))
((yes. The horde has been defeated but Corpus is still spreading. The army is now camped in Misr, Hroniden and you may consult your advisers. You must decide whether to stay with the Golden Army or not.))

((EDIT: Players may want to give counsel to Lord-General Ra'Gru, and he may want to lay out his overall battle plan for his campaign in the Wilds.))
 

Groogy

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Thane Týr Váfuðr approaches the Assembly carrying a parchment scroll.

- "Apologies on behalf my Arl. He is currently taking the bones of the fallen home to make sure they may rest with their families."
The Old man takes the Crownless Arl's seat.
- "My liege is willing to send 500 strong men to Galadriel to support the local populace with dealing with the Corpus before the problem manages to take a hold.
He looks over to the elvish representatives and does a gesture with his hand towards them.
- "As a show of good faith, he wants me to request that you assemble some officers, just a small amount, to guide the troops and to show the populace that there is no inherent danger. I will as well lead these troops myself."
His tone grew a bit darker and more serious as he finished with:
- "We will as well protect the elven lands from any insurgents that tries to disturb the peace in this time of need"


He leans forward, cross his fingers and wait for the response of the Assembly.

Frostsverð army of 400 men leaves the Golden Army
 
Last edited:

Bialaska

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"My liege, reports has arrived that the Corpus has now arrived in Galadriel." the messenger stated, while kneeling in front of the Lord of Three Rivers.

Count Celestian dismisses the messenger, before turning to his sister, Helena.

"What are your thoughts of this, sister?" he asks of her, to which she responds, "Of course we must aid our neighbours. The plague must be stopped before it ravages our lands. And the Golden Army is far away."

The Count gives her a nod, after he has considered other alternatives.

"Invite the soldiers to a feast. Tonight we shall dine, tomorrow you must lead the skirmishers into Galadriel, to aid the lords. I shall send messengers ahead, to make sure the lords knows of your arrival."

Justinus Celestian sends 1000 troops into Galadriel to aid against the Corpus
 

unmerged(271387)

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"Sadly,I can not send any armies,since my remaining 2100 men will remain with the Golden Army.However,I can give the soldiers going to Galadriel the blessing of Kilmorph and the Creator.Watch the skies,travelers."
 

GreatSlayer

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The Deep Elves

To ease the distinction between their own and the other Elven states, the people of the Chasm started to titillate themselves as “Deep Elves” some four hundred years ago, as they moved further into the north and south branching canyons of Green Chasm. They’re identical to their other kin in appearance, except for a slightly paler complexion, developed from the very limited sunlight that penetrates the leaf canvas, and their tendency to wear much darker hue clothes to "harmonize" with the shaded canyon.

Culturally, there are several differences however. The canyons Elves are an honour-bound sort, which practice discipline in their everyday lives as a virtue. This has lead to a complex pyramid of guild communities growing among the artisans, where a person would dedicate his life solely to one craft, with little flexibility in times of a slow market, but also offered high quality goods when the market was in a boon. Family bonds are very strong, and it is not unusual for the wives to adopt their husband’s trade, rather than her parent’s.

The canyons are isolated from the rest of the world, and are surrounded by comfortingly high cliffs from both the inside, and the outside. However, this led to a lack of game, which also happens to be one of the basic cuisines among the Deep Elves. While hunters have to travel to the very outlets of the canyons to even enter the forest, the acquisition of meat has slowed in an even pace, going hand in hand with the increase of population. It is thus common for each household to maintain some self sustained poultry. Wheat foods are less common, exclusively reserved for hard crisp bread, as it is more durable and act as emergency food in times of slow hunt.

Their religion is very closely related to the faith of the Northern Elves in Coamenel and Mirrorwater, with some exceptions. The Deep Elves do not view Darkness as an evil, but an extension of Light. “Without Darkness, there would be no Light.” Is a common expression, and is meant to symbolize the glory of Light only shining stronger because there is Darkness. Thus, they view all magic as subject to intention, and not by its nature, as the patron Saint of house Mindrilla was, in fact, using magic that was identified as Dark, but for a good and virtuos purpouse. They are however exceptionally vigilant against unclean practices, such as necromancy and curses. Deep Elves are near obsessed with cleanliness, and wash at least twice, sometimes thrice, per day. Farmers, smith's and other hard labourers can end up washing even five times before sunset.
 
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BlackBishop

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Character Bio

ArchMage Qylan





Son of a Nordic Lady and an Elven Master, Qylan was born to a ruling family in the Galadrian Province of Mountainshadow, Qylan was first in line to become Master of the province. For several years Qylan served his father as his champion, as he is highly skilled with both sword and bow. In those years he was known as Brighteye, named for his brilliant golden eyes. He is also intelligent and convicted in his beliefs, so Qylan instead chose the path of the Mage. At Thirty years old, Qylan left Galadriel and enrolled in the Tower of Light to learn the old ways of magic. Believing he could somehow harness the power of Light and become a spellcaster, Qylan threw himself in his studies.

Though he was unable to learn no more than simple tricks, as other Mages, Qylan did become a promising student of the Arcane and its history and it wasn't long before he had the ear of the most influential men in the Imperial City.

By the age of 59, Qylan was named the ArchMage of the Tower of Light. He counseled the Emperor on a daily basis, and as time wore on, became increasing troubled by the actions of his liege. As ArchMage he had to drop his House name and all aspirations for leadership in Galadriel, so his only avenue of dissent was through his counsel. Attempts to advise Emperor Essos I from his murderous path of killing all claimants to the crowns of Galadriel led Qylan to being placed under house arrest.

When Essos I died and his son, Essos the Fat, ascended to the throne, Qylan was released and allowed to continue his duties as ArchMage. It wasn't long after that, that Qylan hatched a plan with High Steward Mathlion to initiate the Empire's surrender to the rebellion.

After the death of Essos the Fat, Qylan was named the Keeper of the Light, and assumed a place of honor among the Assembly of Lords. Strong willed and set in his beliefs, the ArchMage is completely unwilling to compromise his values for what may be deemed to be the good of the realm. Qylan forsook all claims to power in order to lead the Tower of Light, and under his rule the Order of Light has become a source of great wisdom and respect.
 

Sneakyflaps

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I Chief Ra'Gru of Goi'Orka, Lord-General of the Golden Army proposes that we start a forced march into the wilds. In the wilds we will find a fortress with the sources of the Corpus, this must be removed , while many might want to go home there won’t be a home if we don’t secure this. So i once again propose that we all start a force march into the wilds, i will lead the men in the front and show the way. I also want Saladin to guard the Flanks of the army with his Mamluks and Kvothe to guard the rear with his men.
 

BlackBishop

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Lord-General Ra'Gru's Camp, Misr Province, Hroniden...

[HR][/HR]

Captain Jacob stands among his House Krestarii guards, his hands being back in shackles after the sweet feeling of having a heavy sword in their grip.

A soldier in the Golden Army walks by, and nods at the mercenary. Jacob returns the nod.

"Making friends, Sellsword?" Questions one of his guards.

Jacob smirked. "Mayhap be one of the men I saved in the battle."

"You're a regular hero, are you not? Like the tales of old?" Mocked the guard.

Jacob shrugged. "I wouldn't say that. If one of those things had been on top of you... I would have let it eat your ugly face."

The clubs of his guards fell down upon his head and shoulders. The beating felt almost as sweet as a wenches touch.
 
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GreatSlayer

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Home Sweet Home​

Their travel had been done in complete silence. Eylinn had sent Alvon to the back of the train to oversee the supply carts, only an excuse to get some distance from him. She felt lonely, but she needed some space. It’s strange, for a man who never talks, he was great company. She just wish he could’ve shown some more empathy once in a while.

They entered Galadriel when it was dusk. It did not matter. These roads were familiar enough to trek in the dark. As they moved deeper into the forest, a strange smell appeared to them.

“Fire...” She squinted, trying to spot the embers, but to no avail.
“Mistress!” Alvon hurried on his horse. “Someone is coming.” They all drew their weapons, readied a defence.
“Archer’s into the snares and trees, now!” She yelled. “Spears three feet apart, shields... up!” The wall was formed. The rider came just around the corner, passing the carts as he went. He was alone. “Halt! Who goes there?”
“Courier from Hroniden!”
“Well aren’t you a quick one.” She smiled. “What news of the battle? Casualties?”
“We’ve beaten the horde back!” A sigh of relief could be heard as the men started to stand at ease. “For your troops, four hundred men lost.” It stung her heart. To count them up so casually. But what other ways are there? She assumed it was the only way.
“We commend you, courier. I will let you depart with 6 coins of...” It happened so fast. An infected man launched himself at the couriers horse, and started gnawing into its flesh. “To Arms! Attack!” The spearmen ran to block the road, and slay the assailant. She looked at Alvon. “You, me, we control the rear!” Alvon aimed his head to the sky.
“Archers! Stay this ground! Nothing comes through!” And they rode off.

The source of the smoke lay only a few hundred feet away. A whole village, torched, and ten men and women stood in a line, sobbing at the flames.
“What happened?!” Eylinn asked. “Is it...” A tall robust Elf turned around.
“Corpus, milady. We must head to our Master’s capitol in the east. We lost everything...” She looked at the man with sympathy. Then she looked at Alvon, and her gaze hardened.
“It seems we have no choice now. Here comes our other day, to live, or die.” She turned her head against the flames. “Or be completely infected with mad.” She spurred her horse back to the carts to fetch the men, and then go towards Green Chasm in most haste.

They were greeted at the Wheat Glade entrance by her vassal, Coerthas Vielthmir.
“Thank the Light you are alive, Mistress.”
“How many of the Corpus have you seen?”
“They are starting to arrive in small parties, everyday. Our archers have been able to clear them before they entered the Chasm. I heard that the situation in the north is the same.”
“We can idle no longer. We must root this out before the plague spreads. And we can’t do this alone. Courier!” The poor man had been saved just in time by the soldiers.
“Yes, milady?”
“You will be given a horse, and will ride to your homeland. Find the Golden Army, and deliver this message to the commander. Green Chasm need One Thousand of their troops back.”
“Immediately, milady.”
“Someone take notary!” An army clerk rushed forward and brought out pen and paper.

“I, Eylinn of house Mindrilla, Mistress of Green Chasm, call to the reader of this letter to pay heed. The Corpus is spreading at an alarming rate. The mountains of Highothar, the forests of Galadriel, now have a widespread infection and must immediately be dealt with if we wish to stop it before reaching the North, or Ecclestius.

I call for aid. I have the intention of leading an army to purge it province by province to stop this from happening, and save my homeland. I beseech you not to remove all your troops from the Golden Army, but at least send some! Any will do! If we don’t act now, there will be no place in the whole settled continent safe from the plague. I will await your reply, and pray it come swiftly. We must ride out soon.”
The notary stopped. Eylinn gave him her sigill.
“Copy it, and send it to every ruler in the realm.”
“Yes, Mistress!” Alvon looked at her.
“Oh don’t you start now.” He shrugged, and rode ahead.
 
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