Wyvern

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Realm of the Wolf
Swadia
- Chapter Six –

Chapter6Swadia.jpg

With the fall of Reyvadin, The Khanate, foes of old, descend on Yaroglek at Ichamur, their vengeance unchecked, ambition clear. The Vaegir king is captured and rots in a Khergit cell, Ichamur is once more a part of Sanjir Khan’s domain. A desperate messenger arrives soon after, sent by Boyar Vuldrat no less. He is marshal of Yaroglek’s domain now, some say king in all but name. He begs for peace that he may fight the invading nomads, though refuses point blank any thought of tying the realms together as one.

Kragen’s advisors tell him to refuse. This is our chance to destroy Yaroglek for good, Kragen only shakes his head. “What use a realm whose people know I abandoned them to invasion and slaughter” he asks. “No, I will give Vuldrat the peace he desires for now, and pray one day he will join our cause.”

A week later signal fires are lit across the horizon, it is not what anyone expects. Soldiers of Swadia have been spotted marching from Suno, Swadia has declared war on the Bandit King!

King Harlaus has picked a disastrous time to attack, the last throw of a desperate man. That he scores an early victory at Burglen is no surprise, Kragen’s men are forced to withdraw following the skirmish and await reinforcements. His lords are out of position and looking to the east, it will take a while for them to mobilise.

Swadia however is but a shadow of her former glory, picked clean by the Rhodok and the Nord kingdoms, the old imperial cities of Uxkhak and Dhirim are lost to her, her border castles all but destroyed. Kragen will gather his forces for a swift campaign the like of which Calradia has not seen since the days of the Emperors of old. Suno falls swiftly and Bergaru made her lord. The statement is clear. Kragen will reward those who help him. Two pitched battles follow outside the walls of the capital at Praven and Swadia’s strength is broken. No more will the golden knights’ ride forth on armoured chargers, Swadia’s name will become but a bookmark of history.

Chapter6SwadiaDestroyed.jpg

Bryn is at Radoghir castle when she goes into labour. She has retired there from the intrigues of court to give birth to their first child. It is a quiet place set amongst a small wood halfway between Reyvadin and Curaw. She will be safe here all agree, they are at peace are they not? The first time she can remember.

Peace. Bryn has forgotten what it means. It seems there is always more fighting on the horizon, more threats to their fledgling kingdom. Is this what the child she carries must look forward to assuming it survives? The child is early and all know two lives are in the balance this night. She shudders as lightning cracks outside her window, briefly illuminating the rustling trees beyond. The rain is beating out a steady tattoo on the roof and she gasps as the rhythms of labour increase as though in time to the beat.

She lies on a bed, a cloth upon her brow. Nalya her old nurse is here, fled from Curin Castle less than a month ago. Bryn grasps at the older woman’s blouse and pulls her near. “Where is he?” she demands, sweat running in beads down her face, “he swore he’d be here.” She screams then, not for the first time, a sound lost in the raging storm outside.

"Be calm my lady" Nalya sooths running the damp cloth over Bryn’s brow, "he'll be here soon I'm sure." She casts a furtive glance out the window at the pitch black night beyond. The rain continues to coming in torrential sheets, the horizon briefly ablaze once more before the rolling thunder booms. More distant now, the storm is moving away at last.


* * * * * * * * * *​

A quiet anger burns in Kragen's soul that night as he views the bandit camp. Soaked to the skin he has spent the last four hours trekking through the forest in search of this place. Alayan's scouts have heard rumour of a Nord base in the area, and this close to Reyvadin he cannot leave it unchecked.

What he finds leaves him cold. Bed rolls, weapons, casks of food and supplies in great number, all neatly secured against the howling rain. This is no minor base for a few scouting parties and too well organised for bandits. No, this site is designed to support a large body of men and that cannot bode well.

Yet where are they now? The camp is deserted, not a guard in sight. The fire pits are cold and the lean to tents empty.

The crack of a snapping twig has Kragen swinging round as a man bolts from behind a stack of crates. A Nord Kragen thinks, but Bandit or soldier who can tell? The man is running for the safety of the trees and should he make it he will be safe amongst the all consuming shadows.

"Firentis!" Kragen barks and the little nomad raises his dagger and sends it flying through the air. The blunt end of the handle catches the man square behind his head and he tumbles to the sodden forest floor.

Even so he is up like a shot with Firentis is on him now and swiftly he wrestles him to the ground. Over and over they roll until the nomad has him in a vice, the arm across his neck slowly chocking out his life. Kragen draws his sword then and approaches the pair, the man’s eyes are wide with terror for he must know here, alone in the forest he has little chance of mercy. He is not some grand lord worthy of ransom, he is but a common soldier when the mud is wiped away, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Please" he begs, as Firentis slowly releases his hold.

"Tell me where your companions are" Kragen demands in a voice of ice.

"I can't" the man trembles, “mercy great lord" he begs as Kragen’s blade draws near. "I ran away” he cries, “I'm not with them! Its madness what they try."

"Bah, a deserter" Firentis spits in disgust preparing to slide his knife across his throat.

"What do they plan to do?" Kragen cries, dropping his sword and wrestling the man up by his jerkin. He fears the answer but know it he must.

"The castle" he stammers, "they're heading for the castle."

The buzz of an arrow winging through the air is the first warning they get. Kragen finds himself holding the dead weight of the man in his arms, an arrow firmly lodged in the deserters back. Other shafts are being released now, men crying in pain. He whirls barking orders to his men as they scramble for cover and together with Firentis starts dragging the wounded man to cover praying he still lives and can tell them more.

Pain explodes in his shoulder, a grunt escapes his lips. Firentis looks at him in shock as Kragen lets slip his grip. Just a moment Kragen murmurs to himself, I just need to rest a moment. Strong hands shake him then. “You must get up” a voice shouts in his ear. Arms lift him to his feet and they stagger to the edge of the trees.

“Which castle?” the King hears himself cry. Which castle? There is a cold dread gathering in his heart. There is but one castle near here.
 
Last edited:

Nikolai II

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Oi, looks like I can read this and also comment? :wacko:

Exquisite narrative. :cool:

Until it has been confirmed that all keys work well and without major issues, yes. Once that has happened, rights to comment might be limited to those who have registered the geme. Reading will always be open, though.
 

Monnikje

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Excellent chapter once again.
Swadia was bound to fall, with the nibbling by the other kingdoms. But taking over that kingdom will enrich yours :). You're doing really well!
 

Stuyvesant

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Until it has been confirmed that all keys work well and without major issues, yes. Once that has happened, rights to comment might be limited to those who have registered the geme. Reading will always be open, though.

Thanks for the update. Even though it's not what I want to hear, it's nice to know what is going on.

Wyvern, it seems that a bigger kingdom merely means bigger trouble for Kragen. You would've thought that all the recent victories would have secured his position, but it seems that is not yet the case. I hope he's in time to stop whatever unpleasantness might otherwise occur.
 

Wyvern

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Yep, a war with Swadia wasn't really what I wanted at that time as it leaves those two Swadian cities out on a limb and very hard to defend should the Rhodox for example decide to get antsy. It does however mean I control 5 cities now and a fair few castles, so militarily things are improved amongst my vassals, but my personal strength took a bit of a dive due to having to leave garrisons in them.

Story wise it was also a little hard to fit neatly into the arc as Swadia's invasion was really a pretty silly thing for them to do and easily destroyed.
 

Enewald

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Well, I will try to comment and read as long as I can.
Might even buy the game. :p

So, you are going to create a dynasty?
But soon there will be nothing to conquer for your kids! :D
 

Wyvern

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Realm of the Wolf
The Night of Terror
- Chapter Seven –

Chapter7Banner.jpg

Harsh voices of men ring across the courtyard; they are those of fighting men their swords red, still dripping blood. A Nord warrior lifts his axe ready to send it crashing into the solid oaken door that blocks his way. Bands of iron are stapled across its beams, it will hold for just a little whilst yet, the last defence of Radoghir castle.

The dead litter the yard. Men half in armour, others lying silent with little more than a weapon in hand. The Nord invaders have caught the defenders unprepared and it has cost them their lives.

Five men on horseback thunder through the castle gates drawing savagely on reigns to bring their mounts to a stop. One, a heavyset older looking man jumps down and takes in the scene. His blond hair elaborately braided, his beard showing the first sign of grey. From his dress he is of the noble class.

"Jarl Olaf!" a Nord rushes over to greet him.

"Sergeant" Olaf nods. "So where is that wayward get of mine?" His gaze sweeps the courtyard as though probing each dark recess.

"She must be in the tower my lord" the soldier replies, indicating the oaken door where two men, bare-chested take it in turns to strike the door with their axes. "They'll have it open before long and then the men get to play."

"None touch my daughter" the Jarl snarls “make sure that’s understood on their lives.”

“Yes sir” the sergeant snaps as the sound of wood splintering draws their gaze and the battered door sags on its hinges. They have broken in.

The lower levels are empty but at the top women and children are huddled in a corner staring helplessly at the door whilst the sound of the Nord’s approach ever closer outside. One holds a babe protectively in her arms. A servant is crying, her face buried in the bosom of an older woman. This one’s face remains calm. She tries to set an example for the others even as she knows what is to come. They have one guard remaining to them. He too is little more than a child, a boy called Devin. He holds his sword before him bravely facing the door. Their last line of defence against the Nord and what is to come. "Surely they won't harm women and children" someone whispers, clutching a companion for comfort. The older lady only gives a sad shake of her head.

The Nord are at the door now. One shoulder barges it open and a man steps in, a dark scowl upon his face. "There's nowhere to hide now my girl" he snarls just as the boy Devin swings his sword.

"Devin no!" a woman cries. She is too late. The Jarl, his own blade already in hand contemptuously parries the boy’s clumsy strike before sliding his sword into Devin's chest. A look of disbelief crosses the boys face before he slides gracefully to the floor.

The Jarl kicks the body aside and looks more closely at those inside. "She's not here" Jarl Olaf snarls scanning the desperate faces looking up at him. "Kill them all" he roars, "I want no survivors!"


* * * * * * * * * *​


Alayan leads his own survivors from the ambush at the bandit camp carefully away through the woods, the Nord pursuit is temporarily left behind, lost somewhere in the night. The storm has passed over now, dawn yet to rear her sleepy head. The king has been placed on a make-shift litter beside which Alayan now walks, Rolf, their medic has removed the arrow but the king has lost much blood and lies now pale and unmoving. Rolf has assured them the king will live if given time to heal and a chance for the wound to be cleaned but Alayan fears for him all the same, he has never suffered such a wound before.

"Alayan", Kragen grasps feebly at his sleeve, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "Alayan” he repeats, “you must get to the castle." His hand bereft of strength falls to drape trailing in the mud.

Alayan halts the company a moment and kneeling down by his monarch’s side he gently places Kragen’s arm back across his chest. "We travel as fast as we can sire, but the woods are treacherous and the enemy all around."

The king struggles then to sit up, his urgency lending him strength, "Damn it Alayan you know where they go. Leave me; I'm only slowing you down." The king collapses once more to lie panting, "please Alayan" he begs, "no one else can save her."

The king has lost consciousness again and Alayan is lost too. For the first time since he was a boy he knows not what to do. Can they reach the castle before the Nord? Perhaps. Much depends on when the main body of the enemy force left their camp. A few men travelling fast can cover much ground and far more quickly than an army. But he cannot, will not abandon his king.

He shakes his head in despair. Kragen will not understand, nor forgive if Bryn comes to harm. He remembers fondly the look on the lads face when first they saw the lady. It was Kragen’s first tournament victory and he was flush with success. The girl had stood with her father, ill at ease and never away from the man’s sight. That bruise upon her cheek, Kragen had asked him. Find out who gave it to her and I'll kill him.

"Rolf" Alayan calls the medic over, his decision made. "I'm leaving you in charge here. Get the king back to Reyvadin. I must go rescue the queen."


* * * * * * * * * *​


Bryn stumbles down a dark corridor. The walls are bare earth, the only illumination comes from a torch held by the man at her side. She carries a babe in her arms, swaddled in cloth and fast asleep. Let her remain so she prays. The man assists her as best he can for she is in pain, the child she holds newborn this night. Faint sounds from the courtyard up above still reach them for the tunnel they travail goes under the castle itself, a bolt hole of last resort for those who know it exists.

Alayan is one such who does. He has ridden through the night with two companions yet still arrived too late to warn of the attack. This has not stopped him gaining entrance by this secret means at the same time as the raiders are breaking in. He is in time, if barely. The inner tower still holds, the Nord’s still hammering at its outer door. Alayan takes the stone steps leading to the tower peak three at a time, what he finds at the top has him offer a prayer of both hope and despair to his god. Women and children huddle together for comfort, their eyes staring at him in terror. "I'm a friend" he calls out, trying to allay their fear. He has little effect.

A woman stand up, her eyes wide in shock. "Alayan?" she gasps, "how did you get in here?" She rushes forward then her composure breaking and he finds himself holding her trembling form, his arms awkwardly going around her, offering what comfort he may. "Where is Kragen?" she finally asks, pulling back and wiping away a stray tear, "and why are the Nord here?"

"My lady" he pauses, unsure what to say. Her eyes darken in fear, her body gone tense. "He lives" he blurts out, feeling her relax in his arms, "he is injured though and sends me to get you. We have to get out of here, now!"

Yet he cannot save them all. He has not the horses or the men to protect them even should he be able to get these others out of the tower, and the Nord will not take long to discover where they have gone. They will break in any moment, to risk delay for these others is to doom them all. It breaks his heart what he must do, but he is here for the queen and no other. He spots a young lad, a page by his look. "Boy" he calls him over, "I need you to guard that door until I get back. I must take our lady to safety now. Can you do that for me?"

The boy nods solemnly, latching on to the semblance of order and responsibility Alayan's words provide. An older lady, more experience in the ways of the world nods at Alayan in understanding "take our lady and her child to safety with all speed; I'll look after these folk". God save me Alayan prays, accepting the woman’s benediction, I'm about to betray them all. He dares not look them in the eye as he leads the queen and her child out the door, back down the tower steps and to the cellar where lies the hidden door. His means of entrance and now escape.

"Quickly my lady" Alayan beckons her now. He takes her arm then for she is struggling. One of his companions he has left guarding this exit from the castle. The passage is narrow and should the Nord discover it one man can buy them a little more time, perhaps. An unenviable task but at least the man is a soldier, the risk part of his trade. Alayan’s mind shies away from thought of the other people he has left behind this night.

His second companion, Lezalit, waits with the horses at the tunnel end. They are nearly there when a scream echoes down the damp passage. A death cry reverberating behind them. Dropping the torch he picks Bryn up in both arms, trusts her to hold on to her child. He can make out a faint light at the end of the tunnel where Lezalit holds a torch and so running down the last stretch of the passage Alayan finally break free, gasping like a dying man the fresh night air.

The horses are saddled and ready and go. Alayan looks at Bryn, sees she can barely walk let alone ride. He hands the babe over to Lezalit, and mounting his own horse lifts her up in front of him before with a final mad shout he cries "ride!"
 

Wyvern

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So evil Nords.

Well, a fort can be regained, necromancy does not work usually.

Evil they are indeed, and it only gets worse . . . :eek:
 

Stuyvesant

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That is ugly (on the side of the Nords) and very unfortunate (on the side of Kragen and Alayan). But the King and Queen still live, so there is hope.

A pretty dark update. It will make the eventual (inevitable?) revenge all the sweeter. :)
 

CatKnight

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To my knowledge named characters can't die in M&B (though certainly injured and even captured.) Kragen and company should be safe if they can avoid Nord units.

Time to raise the banners and avenge yourself on the Nords.
 

Wyvern

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Realm of the Wolf
A time of Despair
- Chapter Eight –

Chapter8Banner.jpg

Keeping to the tree line Bryn, Alayan and Lezalit look down at the burning village of Sumbuja. They have come here hoping to buy supplies, all they find is death. Men on horseback are riding through the village, throwing torches on the wooden shacks and slaying indiscriminately. Distant screams drift over to them on the evening breeze, cries of terror and death. They spot a young woman running from one of the buildings, her cloths torn and hair dishevelled. She sprints for the safety of the trees, direct to where they hide. Her legs pumping as fear lends her strength.

A man on horseback canters slowly after her. He is in no rush, this is all part of the game he plays. Watching, Bryn can do nothing but put her fist in her mouth to stop from screaming. That could be her, running from a Nord raider, her child in her arms. She prays then to her god as she has done many times these last few days. Let my little one be safe, don’t let the raider spot us. Her two companions loosen their swords as the woman draws near, but the raiders spear catches her in the back before she reaches the trees and she tumbles to the ground, her anguish and fear forever blotted out. The horseman pauses a moment, turning his mount to stare at the woods, finding nothing of interest he flicks his reigns and turns back to the village.

Bryn only realises she has been holding her breath when the horseman is gone. “We’ll wait here until dark and then see what we can scavenge” Alayan finally says. “Best rest for a few hours now whilst we can.” They have been travelling for two days and have scant food remaining. It is no longer safe to travel by day. Their way to Reyvadin blocked by Nord patrols, the countryside leading to the capital is wide open grassland, impossible for them to cross without being spotted. They have had to choose a new destination. Curaw, the city of Lord Naldara. Perhaps there they will find safe haven.

As night settles in Lezalit slips away to explore the village and gather what food he can. The raiders have withdrawn, ridden off to find a new target. Bryn nurses her daughter as they wait for his return. She has started to call the little one Lauren in her mind. She hopes Kragen won’t mind. It is the name of her elder sister, dead many years. Only as she grew older did she begin to suspect how and why she had died.

They will be travelling again soon. Alayan is watching her, a strange look on his face. “I’ll get you to safety” he says, “do not fear my lady.” Does he think her afraid she wonders? She does not fear for herself, nay. She fears for her child and what might have happened to Kragen. Alayan can say everything will be all right, like a parent comforting a child; she knows better. She knows the Nord, she has grown up as one of them. They are not a broken kingdom like King Yarogleks realm. They are a strong ruthless people who will follow their battle king unto death. There will be no mercy, no remorse and they will hunt their enemies unto death. She shivers then, as one does when passing over a grave. Reaching for her shawl she wraps it around herself and little Lauren whilst curses herself for a fool. It means nothing, it is just the cold night air.

Lezalit slips back into camp a heavy sack upon his back as Lauren drops back to sleep. “It’s not much” he says “but should at least last us until we reach Curaw, gods willing.”

They saddle up and continue their lonely trek following the edge of the woods until near morning. It is then they approach the bridge at Rebache, held by a company of knights wearing Lord Naldera’s emblem. Across the bridge and the river it spans lies safety. The city of Curaw nestled in the lee of two great rivers, a bastion for her people. The knights are nervous, expecting attack at any time but to Bryn’s eyes they are like water in a desert, the first friendly folk she has seen since taking flight two days ago. She can even smile at them in relief as their horses hooves sound out their peel on the stone cobbles spanning the bridge. The captain greets them and offers two riders as escort to the city. The lord is in residence he says overseeing the cities defence. They will gain more news there.

It is bright morning when they ride through the city gates, weary from their travels they make for a sorry looking group. They are only one amongst many refugees fleeing for the transient safety of the city, part of a steady line of people passing through the gates, possessions piled high on carts. The only difference for them is that their knightly escort parts the crowd, they do not have to queue, waiting in despair to be allowed in whilst the castle guard rummage through their goods stealing what they will.

They are led to the residence of the city’s lord. Naldera himself greets them in his courtyard, a messenger has ridden ahead to warn him of their arrival. “My lady” he nods at Bryn, “Captain. You should not have come here.” It is not a greeting that fills Bryn with hope. She looks more carefully at the lord, at the dark smudges under his eyes, the sorrow in his gaze.

“Lord Naldera” Alayan interjects, “what is happening here?”

“Death” the old lord spits. “Your lord thought to create something new, something better than had gone before” he is talking at Bryn now, his bitterness plain to see “he has failed. We got a message from Lord Belgaru two days ago. Praven has fallen to the Nord in the west and the armies of Rhodok are approaching his own city. King Graveth of Rhodok has declared war, I expect Suno is under siege by now.”

“We fighting both the Nord and Rhodok?” Bryn gasps, a cold dread creeping down her spine.

“Aye my lady. They must have planned this for a long time.”

“My lord, please, what word of Kragen? Is he here?” she has to ask, must know the answer.

The lord looks at her sadly, gives a small shake of his head. “I’m sorry my lady, the King is dead.”

“No!” she cries, cannot believe it. She feels herself swaying in the saddle, has not even dismounted yet. “That is a lie, I won’t believe you!”

Naldera approaches her then resting a hand on her stirrup. “My lady, I wish it were not so. There was a battle outside the Royal City a day ago, my scouts say the king’s banner was clearly seen. Our forces were smashed, the city now burns. Nothing can stop the Nord.”

She turns to Alayan then, her mind at a loss. “What can we do now?” her voice comes out a whisper, she needs an answer, some hope to latch on to.

“We must leave here” Alayan states. “My lord Naldera, I would borrow some men as an escort for my Lady.”

Naldera only shakes his head, “I’m sorry captain, I need every man I have for the defence of the city.”

“You won’t deny us supplies I hope?” The captain snaps, his patience fraying.

The lord sighs, gestures to a soldier. “Get them what they need then see them safely to our border.”

Alayan does not allow them to tarry long, tired though they are. Bryn understands, has seen it in his eyes. They are in danger here every minute they stay. Not from the Nord though they are a factor too, no the danger comes from Naldera himself. As soon as the Lord realises their worth as hostages he will never let them leave. With them he can buy the safety and freedom of his city. Pray that he is an honourable man she whispers to herself.

Chapter8Lost.jpg
 

Wyvern

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Monnikje

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Two exelent, but unfortunately sad updates (just read both chapter seven ad eight). Those evil Nords :(. I'll keep this in mind with my own AAR: I'll have to prepare a lot before declaring independance.

I hope Kragen isn't dead yet, that the lady is right and Naldera is wrong. Although it would give an interesting twist to the story.
 

Wyvern

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Realm of the Wolf

- Chapter Nine –

Chapter9Banner.jpg

The realm of the bandit king was overrun by a combined alliance of the Kingdom’s of the Nord and the Rhodok. One of the common folk had dared to raise his banner against the tyranny of lords and kings, and the rulers of the land could not let this stand.

Kragen’s body was never found, it was buried most said beneath the charred dead outside the walls of Reyvadin. His companions would fight on for many months from their old base at Dhirim, but without Kragen’s leadership and wisdom, one by one they fell by the way. The natural order had been restored to Calradia, the only effect of Kragen’s rebellion being that there were now five kingdoms not six, for the glory of Swadia was no more and Kragen’s own realm split between those that survived.

As the years passed the legend of the wolf grew with each retelling. When the harvests failed and a noble lords whip was at its harshest the common folks would whisper the name of the wolf. He who is prophesied to return they would say, when the land needs him most he will be there to defend the common folk and this broken continent will finally be free.



– Epilogue –​


The girl has been weeding outside for two hours now whilst the grownups talk inside. A visitor had arrived that morning. A warrior by his look and since then she has been told to occupy herself whilst her parents talk with the man in private. There are always tasks to do on a smallholding like theirs and she does not mind, theirs is a lonely existence out here.

Her father had been chopping wood when the man rode in, piling the logs up against the southern wall, the better to protect them from the bitter winds that sweep in off the desert during the winter months. She is sure her father knows the man, the way they greet each other, and this she finds strange for they don’t get many people coming here at the far edge of Sarranid lands and she knows their few neighbours.

Their farm is but a few fields, ill watered, their livestock half starved. The open desert stretches to the south and west. The land they farm constantly battling not to become a part of it. Folks look elsewhere for trade and coin. It is what her parents want she knows.

Her mother is crying now, she can hear her sobs coming from the house. She thinks her mother cries a lot. Best not to ask, she has learnt the hard way that her questions will go unanswered. She ducks her head instead, concentrating on her work and shielding her eyes from the mid day sun.

A shadow breaks her concentration and a man’s voice speaks to her. “How old are you child?” It is a gentle voice full of sorrow.

Looking up she sees the stranger staring down at her, her parents nowhere in sight. For some reasons she finds she isn’t frightened and thinks this strange for she has always been told to be wary of people she does not know. He has a kindly face, worn by the years and is smiling at her now. “I was ten last spring sir” she finally manages to stammer out, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Ah ten years. The seasons do fly by.” He reaches to his back then and removes a bow and quiver of arrows, “I have a present for you Lauren. When you’re strong enough I want you to practice with this every day.” He then kneels down, placing the bow and quiver gently in her hands.

The shaft is as smooth as silk, its colour that of silver. The bowstring of a material she has never known before. Strong and yet smooth. They are a princely gift, not what one gives to a common farm girl.

The stranger has regained his feet and is turning away, walking to his horse. “Who are you sir” she calls running after him, “why do you give me this gift?”

He turns then and looks at her one last time, “I am the wolf” he replies, “and these dear princess are not a gift.” He pauses then a moment to stare at the house. “Ask your mother about me when you’re older.” Donning a straw hat to protect against the sun the stranger then mounts his horse waving at her one last time before riding away.


- THE END –
 

Monnikje

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I surely hope to see a part two with Lauren. Too bad the kingdom of the Wold had been crushed by the Nord and Rhodok like that, but at least you eliminated Swadia, didn't you :). And hurray for Kragen being still around!
 

Wyvern

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Well that’s it folks. I hope you liked my story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. If you have any feedback positive or otherwise on the writing and story itself I’d love to hear from you either via PM or here on the board.

The ending wasn’t quite what I’d originally planned. I’d hoped to overrun the Nord and then tell of a final confrontation with Bryn’s father, but sadly I’d badly underestimated how strong the Nord were, and then the Rhodok declaration of war just put the icing on the cake (and i was playing with the no quitting without saving option so couldn't return to a pre-saved position).

I brought the game play itself to an end when my forces together with a couple of vassals got slaughtered trying to defend Reyvadin, and so that just seemed like a nature place to wind things up!