This post has the following content warnings:
Accept our Terms of Service
Our Terms of Service have recently changed! Please read and agree to the Terms of Service and the Privacy Policy
Permalink

Staevald is a prosperous mercantile duchy, seated at the headwaters of a great river. Money begat growth for the lands, which have carefully stewarded their resources to become the envy of their neighbors. From his fortified keep, Duke Ebin IV t’Ishobin reigns without mercy or rest for himself or his people, as the nascent empire of his cousin watches hungrily from the west. To his supporters, Ebin IV the Ready leads valiant knights in a vigil against encroaching war. To his detractors, Ebin IV the Terror is a ham-fisted tyrant who exploits fear to justify his arbitrary authority.

He uses his only grandson, the crown prince Ebin, as a pawn. The crown prince is more popular than the liege among the minor nobility, who generally resent their liege's controlling behavior. Thus the ruler takes advantage of his heir by sending him about on errands, usually in secret. He hopes to guard the young man from seditious plots, and to instill a harder warrior mentality in him by surrounding him with knights. He also hopes to keep the young man too busy to consider rebelling against him, since many minor nobles would support him doing so.

The duke has several keen advantages to his name, however, not least his command of a bevy of knights, lured with the promise of the duchy’s wealth. Among the retinue are a pair called the Sable Stag and the Azure Hart. Both have been tested battle, but they are better known for their loyalty and wits than their love of glory. For this were they favored as the prince’s escort, because protecting the prince often meant forgoing pomp and being discreet.

Their mission this time was to deliver a conscription edict to a town far in the hinterlands, and to take note of any stirring unrest. Little did they realize the unrest would be within Prince Ebin himself, once he came to realize the true nature of his knights’ unshakable bond.

Total: 2
Posts Per Page:
Permalink

"It's already getting dark," the first knight tutted with a shake of his head. "Beurclet is still the better part of the day out, at least while we ride laden." Here he turned in his saddle, looking back at the pony whose head barely peeked out from under the pile of saddlebags on its back. "Hart, my hart, do you think it is worth a few more miles to have to pitch a rugged camp, or should we retire to an inn?" His horse whinnied as though to protest the suggestion, and he agreed with a silent look of petition towards his comrade. "The inn is just behind us," he noted helpfully.

Permalink

"Nay, I think not." replied the second, from the end of the convoy, as he drew his own steed to a standstill. He reached up to the leather cord in is hair, pulling it loose and letting his locks fall across his face a moment while they rested. He casts his gaze to the heavens, noting the dark clouds creeping in from the horizon. "The hearth calls out for the weary. We've travelled many miles from the capital, and I sense rain on the horizon. Let us rest here." Motioning for his companions to about-face, he flicked his reins to urge his steed and pack-horse back down towards the foot of hill they had crested, where the tiny hamlet sat nestled between the trees. 

Total: 2
Posts Per Page: