ISSUED BY 

⸙

ON THIS

14TH OF WZUVAR AG BYVCA, 613 E.S.

Long has it been, since our storied kin has sat beneath one roof, or shared story over meal or duel over insult. Long since the time of the Orenian Empire and it’s fall, has our House of old been split, clashing with one another over one issue or another.

All of my childhood, I had been raised with dislike and disdain for our distant kin to the South, in Balian. To distrust their intentions, spit upon their accomplishments and swat their hand if ever offered friendship or peace. But as I pen this letter in my advanced age, I have realized my fatigue, of fighting and animosity between these two Houses of one blood.

With that said, shall this missive serve as invitation, to ALL who hold the Ruthern name, old and new, once-Haeseni or once-Balianese. I invite you all to Kastell Hamaracz, within the Karoslund of Norland, as is befitting my station as it’s Hetman. There we shall sit, as one blood under one roof, to have dinner and speak, and finally settle any lingering issues between our two lines.

Ser Sigmar Rhys var Ruthern

Hetman of the Karoslund

Knight of Valdev

“One is eternal. Steel rusts, memories live;
long after the grave calls or the last ember dies.“
 

╠════════════════════════════════════════════╣

A turn of seasons, through the temperate wintertide’s gales and towering evergreens onto the distinctly humid days of midsummer. Callous-ridden hands had found their grip about hammers or rivets wrought from bronze, marking the beginnings of a craft meant for far sailing. It wasn't the rowdiness of that Norlandic host, the same ilk he’d parted from Aevos’s accursed shores alongside, which drew him to such a project. It was a necessity; a selfish, uncharacteristic yearning for solitude amongst lands unfamiliar.
 

Though he, a man seldom of tight-knit lips, who
wished for seclusion, wished not for silence.
It came, unburdened by the presence of another,
in words all the same. To the empty air, a man
maddened spoke. Not in initiation but in response,

“You speak with such simplicity. You know it is anything
except simple. Forsake the blood spilled, forget the mind
benumbed? I will not. Not even for him.”

It brushed past him in rasped reply, denoted
by a gentleness absent upon that Amador’s own
tongue. Such fragility backed by harsh potential.
The saline breeze spoke in its enigmatic manner,
a language few besides Anaksandr knew how
to decipher.

In veracity, in reason. With fairness.
In candidness, in sincerity. With resolve.

That Amadorian brow faltered in its strength,
besmirched by sweat aplenty. Betwixt sweat and an
upset rarely spoken aloud, his lips trembled. Each
fastening of oaken planks turned another fluctuation
of emotion.

“And of me? What becomes of me without this?”

Anger it hadn’t been, anger it shan’t become.
Despite its intensity risen, there was no malice in
what came. Nature’s breath swept his unbound hair
sideward, revealing scarring long healed.

More than what met the eye.

‡

Restless nights in caper with days of breathless laboring. What had begun small expanded overnight; a man who’d only ever crafted a small rowboat to make down the river Lahy, where the remains of Queen’s Crossing long rested, was to have a ship in his name alone. The first in generations of his blood. A hallmark which his family’s annals were decorated in tales of. Had the seas about Aevos been without their storms, perhaps it’d have come sooner. Perhaps Anaksandr, still held by youth, would’ve balanced against the tallest masts and taken to the sea. To know a watery grave, to know all which lingered beyond his view.

Only now, enrichened by decades passed, would fruition fall upon such a dream. Bruises fell against the fingertips of a man at work – a rickety loom in company, apt enough for the matter of weaving together a cloth which his only company upon the shore, those thrusts of wind, would breathe life into. Sailcloths were raised and natural paints were soon set against holds of oak. Released flags bled vibrancy against the sea’s pale surface, Amador blues and alabaster whites filling those emptied skies– spare an avian flock or passing cloud.

His vessel’s name was known before its construction reached completion: The Jaded Selkie.

In tribute to a mother he’d never truly known, a woman who was more of a mystery to him than the sea had ever been. In memory of a father he’d once lost, whose wisdom was beyond that of the years his flesh held, and was oftentimes bound by jadedness which few others rose to the measure of. It was the two of them, a lord of depth unmeasurable and a Viscountess whose fate’s strings were tugged into unexpected orderings, that forged a boy with a penchant for worry. 

Memories of Aevos plagued Anaksandr in those sullen eves upon Kalldur. A land once home turned blighted. From the shores of endless sea glass about Portoregne to those far, frigid reaches of Ailmere which few, even Haeseni, dared to brave. The company of his own, a twin whose stubbornness rivaled God’s and a sister whose fondness of pearls marveled him. Those of blood diluted or bonds forged; a Kovachev youth of flaxen tresses who’d endured more than most he’d known and a cousin once mistaken– once lost– who found way into his favor again. Some were memories, relics of a past he would eventually forget in the shuffle of his mind. Some had been twined into his very soul, unable to be forgotten even if desired.

Yet he remained. Every storm weathered, with footing rarely lost. He had his marrings from atop Koppány and the Winewoods, some worn with pride and others concealed beneath only the heaviest furs. His psyche, though tested time and time again, he believed to remain intact.

As his people oft quoted, he persisted. 

 

‡

Anaksandr made sail long before the greater share of his fellow descendants. To be amongst the first who would discover some making of land. A land meant for settling. Not the temporary sanctuary which Kalldur had kindly bolstered. A home for him and his own.

Before his chest folded sun-kissed arms which those ceaseless laborings had since numbed. Onto the open sea was a gaze cast, tarnished by a dancing interloper. A foreign energy, vibrant in its flushed hue, which remained aside his pupils. Stillness fell Anaksandr, the winds which raged atop briny waves unable to disturb the appearance he’d catered.

“Utterly? Without any doubt, you’re sure of it?”

He asked in his solitude.

“Utterly,”
replied the wind.

By the time his boots’ soles graced Azuras, a missive bound by wax was prepared for circulation. That Amador’s ink spoke. .

♪♪♪
 

From Ashes, We Rise

EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present

•⋅ ───⊱ ༺⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅•
A CHANGE OF LANDS, A CHANGE IN AMADOR

A WRIT OF ABDICATION

PUBLISHED BY

ON THIS HOLY YEAR OF 604 E.S.

•⋅ ────────────────⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰──────────────── ⋅•

It has been but a year since I was bestowed an inheritance promised to me since birth. For that year, I gathered all I’ve ever known of my name – of House Amador, and began a path to refuge our peoples find great familiarity in. In that year, I basked in the fulfillment of the one purpose I’ve known. But as landfall nears, it is my intent to do all but sow my inheritor’s future in likeness of my own.

It is with this mind, sound and resolved, I, Anaksandr Albus Amador, abdicate all I hold to my son, KRISTOFF ISAAK ‘THE SILVER WAKE OF AMADOR’, to be recognized as Patriarch of House Amador in all capacities.

Until my breath stills, I shall remain amongst my kin, to aid my son in his endeavours as leader of our house, and be a voice of counsel before the unfamiliar. For my daring Kristoff, I’ve nothing but faith. May he inherit kindness and reject the bitterness of our recent histories, to replace atrophy for vitality. May he do as I wished, and may he lead our house to a future bright.

•⋅ ─────────────────────⊱ ༺ ⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰───────────────────── ⋅•

‘The Anchor of Amador’
His Lordship, Anaksandr Albus Amador,

Patriarch of House Amador, Lord of Queen’s Crossing,
Enestrik of Karoslund.

♪♪♪

From Ashes, We Rise

EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present

•⋅ ───⊱ ༺⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅•

THE DOVE WHO SOARED

A WRIT OF MOURNING

PUBLISHED BY

ON THIS HOLY YEAR OF 596 E.S.

•⋅ ────────────────⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰──────────────── ⋅•

Bitter is the storm which howls through the hearts and halls of our home. I write now to make known the passing of one of our own, Helena Helmi Amador. 

Little more than a Saint’s Year past, upon a trail and amongst familiar company, misfortune struck and birthed a fatal accident which stole our beloved Helena from us. From this realm she has parted and onto the skies, where we pray ceaselessly that she has found peace, eternal and true. She was without malady or affliction at the time of her passing, healthy and radiant of soul – a fleeting solace in wake of this tragedy. It is with the loss of a girl whose melodramatics and vibrant tastes birthed joy wherever she stepped foot that House Amador undertakes a period of grieving.

•⋅ ───⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅•

A MOURNING PERIOD

TO BEAR OUR GRIEF
Together, we of immediate relation will make to gather and speak aloud all we hadn’t the chance to let her hear. Before a raised pyre will offerings be laid, ushering her soul into peaceful release. And come an inferno’s cessation, all which remains, ash and tributes, are to be sealed within a casket of cedar. Thereon, her coffin shall be laid beneath a tree dubbed The Fair Helmi, undisturbed and unburdened by the mortal coil.

TO BEAR THE COLOR
In her memory a vividness is born. The customary mourning attire our people know, of black and lace, will see no display, opted for the color all knew her often swaddled betwixt – green. Until the year of 596 E.S. meets end shall those of House Amador adorn themselves in greens of any hue, just as the young Helena donned in life.

TO BEAR A NAME

It is the honor of our blood for those worthy to bear a moniker of their parent’s choosing once maturity has bloomed. Helena, fair and histrionic, did not make it her eighteenth, but it is by my will that she is bestowed an epithet nevertheless. Know her, a fledgling pure, to bear a moniker fit, of her mother’s fashioning.

HELENA HELMI
THE DOVE OF AMADOR
577 E.S. — 594 E.S.

•⋅ ─────────────────────⊱ ༺ ⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰───────────────────── ⋅•

His Lordship, Anaksandr Albus Amador, 

Heir to House Amador, Lord of Queen’s Crossing,
Enestrik of Karoslund.


Her Ladyship, Mikhaila Amador, 

Guildmaster of the Healer’s Hall

The Funeral of Kazimir Audo Weiss

ISSUED ON
9th of MSITZA and DARGUND, 594 E.S.

BY
THE HESIR OF KAROSLUND

TO THE PEOPLE OF THE KAROSLUND AND OF NORLUND,

THE PATRIARCH OF WEISS, KAZIMIR AUDO, HAS PERISHED. Slain by unjust hands, a beloved father and husband has gone to rest in the realm of his Templar patron. A warrior all of his life, he remained steadfast in his loyalty both to his people and the house of Barbanov-Bihar. The many youth of the Karoslund who he imparted his years of wisdom upon shall be all the better for it, who shall go forth into future struggles with the knowledge of a soldier who knew nothing but tireless bravery. He leaves behind a loving wife and five children to carry on his family’s good name, though it is now the duty of all who knew him to ensure they do not forget his image and his deeds. I, as his eldest niece, shall ensure his name is etched in the annals of our history. Generations yet to come will know his name and honor his memory, by my will and the will of our people.

As is the wish of his widow, Lady Olga Weiss, and the remaining House Weiss, I call all those who knew him or called Kazimir Weiss a friend to gather within the humble walls of the Karoslund, to pay their final respects to this fallen patriarch. Outside the Chapel of St. Karl, a pyre shall be erected as is tradition beneath the Jorenic Rite of Canonism upon which personal effects of the late Kazimir shall be burned in his memory. This vigil and memorial shall be overseen by the Patriarch of Jorenus at the request of Lady Olga.

HEZYR I, Maya Karenina Barbanov-Bihar
Hesir of Karoslund, Matriarch of House Barbanov-Bihar

ISSUED BY

Linde Illena Kovachev.

⸙

ISSUED ON

Thirteenth of Joma Ag Umund , 592 E.S.

VA VE EDLERVIK,

CASTLES AND OTHER FORTIFICATIONS HAVE EVOLVED TOGETHER WITH SOCIETY AND TECHNOLOGY. Our cultures have made prodigious advances in the evolution and construction of castles and other defenses. The stone castle is the prominent feature of our landscape, only overshadowed by the great cathedrals. The castle is a symbol of status for many powerful nobles who could then challenge the authority of their king. As the castle’s role and function have changed, so have their sizes and shapes. Stone castles have emerged as the dominant fortification along with the fortified city with their masonry defenses. Though, it’s not to say the more ancient type of earth and timber fortification known as the grod has gone extinct. They continue to dominate in the forms of small strongpoints and fortified towns.

Understanding the distribution of population and its relationship to the size of armies is quite important not only in understanding warfare, but also the role and significance of external threats that exert strong influence on the course of events and development of fortifications. The cannon for instance has not made castles obsolete, but has caused the reduction in the height of walls, not only to reduce their vulnerability, but also to increase the range and effectiveness of the defenders’ artillery.

THE TERMS CASTLE, CITADEL, FORT, AND FORTRESS HAVE BEEN USED SYNONYMOUSLY WITH STRONGHOLD. Which has led to much confusion over time. Each, however, should have its own meaning in military architecture. Although the castle is considered a private fortified residence, the term is not used in the same way in every region of Aevos, or in the same context with royal castles. The most accurate definition of a castle would be a fortification that is characterized by high walls, usually a moat, and towers, regardless of whether it was a private residence or not. The term fort does not strictly apply to most fortifications since it refers to a small strongpoint usually occupied by military personnel. The typical castle, on the other hand, has not only a military function but also a residential and/or administrative function. The word citadel applies to any strongpoint and can be used to refer to a castle or a section of city that has a fortified position similar to a castle in size.

Although fortress is a term that is usually reserved for large fortifications that wouldn’t be classified as a castle, sometimes it can refer to a very large castle-like fortification or a heavily fortified city (town). The fortified city or town usually has many features in common with the castle, but it is larger and may also include a castle, especially if it is a city rather than a town. Many features such as gatehouses, special roofs, crenelations, and moats, which were initially developed for castles, have been incorporated in urban fortifications as well. Other types of fortified positions include tower houses, observation posts, and coastal fortifications, as well as fortified churches, cathedrals, and monasteries. Often these positions incorporate the defensive features found in castles and fortified towns. The tower house is simply a residential structure attached to or part of a tower and is somewhat similar to a keep. Observation posts, including those used along the coast, are similar to bergfrieds or keeps but are usually a solitary tower from which a watchman can sound the alarm as soon as he spots intruders. Fortified religious structures look like their unfortified counterparts, but comprise defensive positions like turrets, crenelations, and even murder holes. The fortified monasteries sometimes look like a small fortified town.

The origins of the castle are lost in the mists of time, but can be traced to three main types of early fortifications: the grod, the bergfried, and the motte and bailey. The most ancient of them, the grod, was essentially a ring fortification that varies in size and consists of an earthen rampart, wooden walls, a fortified gate, and a moat. The bergfrieds are tall towers that are mostly made of wood and are tall and narrow. They serve as little more than lookout towers, but some may serve as residences. Though some have been made out of masonry, they’re an incorporated part of castles rather than standalone structures. The motte and bailey castle, which may have evolved from earlier ring works akin to the grod. Consist of a wooden tower or donjon standing atop of a manmade mound or motte. The motte is located within a courtyard or bailey encircled by a timber palisade with a fortified gate. Whenever the terrain allows it, the bailey, also known as the ward, was circular. More complicated versions of the motte and bailey include two or more baileys. Though eventually with further innovations in masonry work, stone began to replace the timber as a building material. At first, only the donjon was made of stone. Later the gatehouse and finally the walls were also made of masonry. The donjon, which later became known as the keep, was not only a defensive position, but also served as the residence of the local lord or castellan. The entrances to the keep and the bergfried are placed on the floor above the ground floor. The wooden keeps are built on manmade mounds or mottes for defensive reasons and serve as the point of last resistance in the motte and bailey castle. As they became larger and heavier when stone was used, the motte became less practical and was eventually eliminated. In time, many of the larger keeps were incorporated in the main line of defense, after which they were eliminated altogether. 

In the grod and the motte and bailey castle, towers were at first made of wood and either attached to or part of the timber stockade atop an earthen rampart. The rampart was made of soil excavated from the moat. After stone and brick were adopted as building materials for the keeps and gatehouses, the towers too were made of masonry. The towers can be an integral part of the wall or separate entities to which the walls are attached. In some cases, they project out from the wall, allowing the defenders to cover the curtain walls with flanking fire (and are commonly known as flanking towers). When built of stone or brick they usually have several floors, which are not always connected internally. In some cases, the back of the tower is left open to make it easier to haul up supplies and projectiles from the ground level to the fighting platforms above. In addition, the open back prevents the enemy from taking the tower and using it against the defenders. In some cases, access to the tower from the wall walk or allure is only possible over a small drawbridge. The square shape creates dead angles on the outside, making towers vulnerable to mining. So architects introduced a circular or semicircular pattern to remedy this problem. The spacing of towers along the walls of a castle or a city depends on various factors such as terrain and resources available to the builder. In most cases, towers are placed at the corners but sometimes are also added at regular or irregular intervals along the perimeter. The construction of towers does not follow any standard pattern. The size and shape of towers vary considerably, depending on the designer’s vision and financial means. Another important feature adopted at the same time as the round tower is the plinth or thickening and outward sloping of the walls at the base of the tower. The function of the plinth or battered plinth is to add stability to the tower wall and make it more resistant to mining. Eventually the plinth was also adapted to walls.

The gate is one of the most critical parts of the defenses of a castle or fortified city since it is theoretically the easiest point of entry which allows access to the interior. Special attention was therefore devoted to its defense and additional obstacles were placed in front of it. Not unexpectedly, the first type of towers built into walls were gatehouses. In the motte and bailey castle, the gatehouse and the keep are the first positions to be made of masonry. The gatehouse normally consists of battlements from which the defenders could keep the enemy away from the gate. As the gatehouses became more sophisticated, various additional defenses such as moats and drawbridges were added. However, where there is no moat, there is no drawbridge. This is mostly the case for interior gatehouses. Drawbridges usually are simply structures that are raised by means of chains and winches. More refined versions are called a turning bridge, which is raised by means of a counterweight attached to the end of the bridge. When the weighted end is released, it drops into a pit moving the other end of the bridge to a ninety degree angle. This mechanism is not only faster to operate, but requires less effort. Whether there is a drawbridge or not, the gatehouses include a set of heavy wooden and metal reinforced doors and a portcullis, a wood, iron, or, more commonly, iron-shod wood grating. The portcullis is positioned in grooves in the wall and lowered or dropped down from above with the help of a winch. As gatehouses became more sophisticated, they also grew in size, becoming the dominant position in the castle in some cases. Often, the approaches and entrance to the gatehouse are placed at an angle so as not to face outward, thus making it more difficult for attackers to maneuver their weapons directly against the drawbridge or gate. This type of arrangement is particularly effective against the ram. Eventually, an outwork or barbican is added in front of the gatehouse for extra protection. The barbican has no standard shape. Some barbicans are directly linked to the gatehouse by walls, forcing the attacker into a narrow, easily defended passage before he could reach the gate. In many cases barbicans are linked to the gatehouse only by a bridge. Most barbicans display the defensive features typical of the gatehouse. In addition to a gatehouse it is quite common for fortified cities and castles to have posterns. These are relatively small entrances only large enough for a knight and his horse to pass through. Posterns serve as exits from which the garrison can launch a sortie, as escape routes for the defenders, or as places from which to dispatch messengers. The postern is also known as a sally port. Some posterns are heavily defended and placed in a mural tower. The postern is usually, but not always, located beyond the reach of siege weapons.

The term enceinte refers to the walls and towers that encircle a fortified position, be it a castle, fortified city, or fortified monastery. The curtain refers to sections of wall between towers or the walls of the enceinte. It is quite possible that the early stockades that surround a stronghold are not equipped with fighting positions and that they rely on the towers for their defense. However, before long they have become an active part of the defense of the castle. The walls are the last elements of the fortified positions to be converted to masonry. There is no systematic study on the thickness of curtain walls, however, it is a fact that their thickness varies from one fortification to another. The techniques used in the construction of the earth and wood fortifications before the introduction of masonry produced exceptionally thick walls. The timber palisades, on the other hand, are rather thin and vulnerable to fire and decay. The first stone or brick walls that replaced the timber palisades, though more durable, are rather thin. While larger cities expand their walls to protect their populations, smaller ones, especially if they are townships, are not always able to afford new walls and go without, unless the sovereign believes it necessary to fortify them for strategic reasons. Auvergnian buttresses, known as contreforts in Auvergnians, are used to reinforce the walls. The walls of the keeps and the enceinte are built to accommodate the installation of wooden hoardings from which the defenders are able to cover the foot of the wall. The thickness of curtain walls varies according to need. Thus the more vulnerable wall sections are thickest, while those protected by natural features of the terrain are thinner. The walls of keeps vary between one point five and two meters in thickness, although some are as thick as four meters. Further innovations in military architecture include the machicoulis, the plinth, and the regular spacing of towers. The art of building stone machicoulis or machicolations onto masonry walls makes it possible to replace the wooden hoardings, which are very vulnerable to fire. The plinth, an outward splaying of the base of the walls, serves as an effective defense against mining. The plinth also maximizes the effects of the projectiles dropped from the hoardings or machicoulis. The regular spacing of the towers on the enceinte increases the effectiveness of the defenses. In our current era, we’re experiencing what may be the zenith of the age of the castle. As with further innovations in pyrotechnics such as the cannon, may in time make our castles obsolete in the fashion of war. The walls of the enceintes have become thicker, and the plinth is much more common throughout Aevos. Moats have grown to twelve to twenty meters in width and ten meters in depth. Vaulted towers range from seven to twelve meters in diameter. Castles reach unprecedented sizes.

The battlements refer to the upper part of a fortified position. They are usually crenelated to protect the defenders from enemy missiles. Crenelations consist of a succession of openings called embrasures and small sections of wall called merlons. The simplest, and earliest merlons and embrasures were rectangular in shape. However, many variations soon appeared, reflecting regional and ethnic tastes, converting the crenelations into a decorative feature. It is not uncommon to see unusually high or curved merlons. Crenelations on the older wooden fortifications are rectangular in shape. The embrasures between merlons sometimes include shutters to give the defenders added protection. With the trend toward building masonry fortifications and the skill of the masons became more refined, the crenelations became more complex. In some regions a firing slit, known as an arrow loop, is added to the merlons. These arrow loops afford the archer increased protection because he does not have to step out into the open embrasure to fire his arrows. The inner section of the arrow loop has to be wide enough for the archer to be able to hold his weapon and fire downward and still give him some degree of coverage. To accomplish this, the position is wedge shaped and the loop itself is cut low enough to give a downward view. More sophisticated arrow loops in the merlons and the walls are formed as wedge-shaped recesses with two loops, which gives the archer two firing directions, thus increasing his angle of fire. Along the top of the wall, behind the crenelations, is the wall walk or allure, which allows the defenders to serve the battlements. In many cases, towers also have allures. Access to the allure and battlements could be by ladder or stairway, although the latter is preferred in masonry fortifications. In some cases the access stairways are located exclusively in the wall towers, which means that if the attackers manage to reach the allure, they would be trapped there, exposed to the fire from the courtyard and the towers, with no way down from the wall unless they captured a tower.

 Both tower and wall battlements are equipped with additional defensive devices known as hoardings. These wooden structures form positions that project from the wall in front of the crenelations and are normally covered by a wooden roof to protect the defenders. During the construction of the masonry fortifications, slots and supports are set into their walls and towers to accommodate the wooden corbels or beams and supports for the hoardings. The hoardings create an overhanging gallery that runs along the wall or around a tower. However, they do not always cover the entire length of a wall or go all the way around a tower. The hoardings have embrasures similar to those of the crenelations, which may also have included shutters. The hoardings not only protect the defenders from the elements and from enemy fire, but, most importantly, they also serve to protect the foot of the walls from the enemy. The wooden floors of the hoardings have openings from which the defenders can drop rocks or hot liquids on the attackers swarming below. When the base of the wall has a plinth, the projectiles bounce outward and can inflict casualties even on troops standing near the wall but not directly underneath the hoardings. The archers can also fire directly upon anyone below the hoardings. If a section of the hoardings is destroyed, the battlements of the walls still remain behind them. It is common that the hoardings are only temporary and set up when a site is under threat of attack. When the threat no longer exists, or the war is over, they are usually removed. The hoardings are temporary only in the sense that they are not intended as a permanent fixture. However, wooden fortifications can last for years and even decades, and there is no reason to believe that the hoardings could not last as long. The wooden hoardings may be replaced by two types of machicolations known in Auvergnian as machicoulis and berteche. Stone corbels are used to support these stone projections, which have the same role as the hoardings. In addition to merlons and embrasures, the stone machicolations include openings in the floor between the battlements and the wall from which the bottom of the wall can be covered. In general, the machicoulis covers a long section or the entire length of a curtain wall or tower. A second type of machicoulis, known as a machicoulis surarche, consists of arches that support the battlements. In this case, the openings are located between the top of the arch and the wall. However this type of machicoulis prevents the foot of the arch from being covered. To counteract this disadvantage, the foot of the arch is usually very narrow compared to its upper section. Mast machicoulis are open at the top, but occasionally they are covered by a roof, especially when they encircle all or part of a tower or span a section of curtain and are situated below the battlements.

The breteche covers only a small portion of the wall and looks like a box projecting from the wall or tower. Some breteches are open on top, others are completely enclosed, but most contain a firing embrasure or a small opening for defending and observing the environs of the castle and an opening in the floor large enough to throw projectiles on the area directly below. They are normally placed either above a window or doorway to project it. The first breteches were of wood, but now they are made of masonry. A feature that is very similar to the covered breteche and can easily be mistaken for it is the garderobe, which is not a defensive position but a latrine. In theory, it can be used to cover the base of a wall from its opening, but it is never placed above a window or doorway for obvious reasons. Additional firing embrasures for weapons like the bow and crossbow can also be found in towers at different levels. Windows, however, are a liability, and are not likely to be found outside the residential areas. Towers are virtually windowless because windows create weak points, jeopardizing the security of the entire castle. Only residential towers, like the keep, actually have windows. The most important windows have glass and the chapel windows are usually made of stained glass, while the others are small and often secured with iron bars due to how expensive glass is. Windows generally open on the courtyard or on a section of the wall that is well-sheltered from enemy fire. In most towers, narrow slit-like openings shed natural light on the stairways. Embrasures for weapons are long and narrow with space on the inside for the bow or crossbow, similar to those found in the merlons of the battlements. There is a wide variety of slits, depending on the purpose they serve. Some are cross shaped to improve the field of vision along with a oilet, a small circular opening to give a better view. Large round openings may also be added to the bottom of some slits to accommodate the use of cannons. Towers usually include some type of roof often composed of slate or lead. The roofs are generally tall and conical, giving the castle an even more imposing air, particularly after the masonry walls are painted. One advantage of the conical roof is that it protects the defenders from the weather when it is extended over the merlons. In many cases, however, the roof does not extend over the tower's battlements and not all towers have roofs. A roof damaged by the enemy’s artillery could also interfere with and endanger the defenders. Staircases in large towers are often made of wood and serve as access to all the floors. Circular stone staircases are found in towers or in corner turrets of the larger towers. Usually, the staircase turns upward in a clockwise direction in order to allow a man to fight with his sword in his right hand, while retreating up the tower.

The moat is undoubtedly one of the oldest features of fortifications. In its simplest form it is a ditch that serves as an obstacle meant to check the enemy’s momentum. In its more complex forms it presents a serious barrier even to the most formidable of armies. The moat is an integral part of fortifications throughout Aevos, beginning with the motte and bailey castle. Few fortified positions are found without a moat, unless they are located on high and rough terrain where a precipice precludes its need. However, even in rugged terrain, an effort is often made to include some kind of moat. At times, natural water obstacles, such as a river, a lake or a pond, takes the place of the moat. The moat does not always encircle the entire fortifications, especially if there are other obstacles. In some cases there is a moat both outside and inside a fortification. This happens mostly in fortified cities where an exterior moat protects the enceinte and an interior one covers the citadel inside the walls. The same arrangement is occasionally found in exceptionally large castles. The moat has to be deep enough to prevent a man from wading through it and wide enough to prevent him from leaping over it. The moat of the early motte and bailey may not have adhered to this principle, since its size depended largely upon the amount of material excavated to create the earthen and timber walls of the bailey and the motte. Generally, a depth of about three meters appears to be sufficient, though moats now are often deeper. Moats are rarely water filled because it is rather difficult to direct water into it, especially if no natural source is available. In addition, water that can be diverted into a moat can also be diverted out. Though in some regions, moats are almost invariably filled with water because the fortifications are built near natural water obstacles like rivers, lakes, ponds, or swamps, which abound in the area. Often, when the earth is dug to build the walls, the resulting ditch will automatically fill with water from the underlying water table. Although water-filled moats are considered very romantic, they are in fact rather unpleasant since garbage from the kitchens and human waste from the garderobes end up in them, turning them into giant cesspools. Whether dry or wet, shallow or deep, moats are further reinforced with obstructions such as sharpened stakes at the bottom and along the inner wall. Deep moats also present a serious obstacle to mining under the walls. Also without filling in the moat, the attacker is not able to assault the enceinte with siege towers or exploit any breach created by their missile-throwing artillery.

A fortified site always needs one or more wells to provide water for the garrison, especially during protracted sieges. It is also important to have a well within the keep. In addition, rainwater is usually collected in cisterns located in some of the towers of the fortifications. Water is not only essential to sustain the garrison, but also to put out fires set by incendiary projectiles launched by the besiegers. Hoardings and other wooden components of the fortifications are particularly vulnerable to fire and are often covered with wet hides or other fire-resistant materials. A reliable water supply is absolutely necessary not only to put out the fire, but to keep the wooden components wet and as impervious to fire as possible. The residence of the owner of the castle is usually located in a keep or some other tower-like position and usually occupies the upper levels. The great hall is usually the largest building in the inner ward or a large room in a great keep which could be used for banquets and entertainment for the noble and his entourage. It is the center of social life for the nobility serving in the castle and the population surrounding it. It is here that the lord of the castle holds court and adjudicates legal disputes between his tenants. The great hall is heated by a fireplace, which, until more recent history, consisted of a round or octagonal shallow depression located in the middle of the chamber where logs burned, giving off warmth and smoke in equal measure, and presenting a constant danger to the occupants. When the chimney flute was invented, the fireplace was moved to the side of the room and placed against the walls. In many cases the fireplaces on each floor are linked to the same chimney stack. Because of the hazard from the fire, kitchens are located in a separate building and the food is carried into the great hall for consumption. Tapestries decorate the walls and also provide some degree of insulation. Artificial light, provided by torches or candles, is necessary to make the dark chambers livable. In some cases a room with windows, known as a solar, serves as the family’s work room. A few larger masonry keeps have forms of sewage systems. Bath water is usually heated in the kitchens before it is carried in jars to the lord’s chambers where it is poured into a wooden tub. Garderobes are found in different locations and usually projected over a bild wall, like a window box. The garderobe is outfitted with a small bench with a round opening on the seat, which, more often than not, opened directly over the moat. Wherever a sewage system has been installed, the waste is born down to the lowest level of the tower, which acts as a large cesspool. About twice a year peasants will often have to clean out the cesspool.

Depending on the size and type of fortification there are stone or wooden buildings for the garrison. The barracks for a large castle usually consists of a two-story building with the stables on the lower level. Other structures include storage rooms, dairies, still-rooms, and so on. These are usually attached to the walls of the castle or in detached buildings in the courtyard. The courtyard or bailey is the main open area within a castle. A castle can have one or more courtyards, separated by additional walls. In the case of the castles with concentric walls, the narrow space between the walls is called list rather than bailey. Often the lists are used for jousting. When a castle has one or more baileys, they are usually referred to as the inner and outer ward or the upper and lore or even middle wards, depending on the layout. Castles also have one or more chapels for the lord and the garrison where Mass is said on Holy days if the lord is rich enough to have a chaplain. If not, a priest or monk may stop there on his rounds, which may take weeks or months. Often couples take advantage of the priest’s visit to get married. Prisoners are usually held in the highest room of a tower, from which it would be difficult to escape. The highest point usually is the keep or donjon, so the term dungeon became synonymous with prison. Though, when some prison cells are moved underground, that part of the castle becomes known as the dungeon.

A special type of fortifications is the bastide, which is a town used to occupy a border region. Kings will finance the construction of these towns and grant special privileges to those who are willing to settle in them. The typical bastide is laid out in a rectangular shape, ranging in length from two-hundred to five-hundred meters and has a grid-like street plan which includes the main road that passes through the center. Some of the larger bastides have irregular shapes. The funds provided for these towns cover the construction of a set of walls which are neither very thick nor very high. The bastides usually have no towers other than the two at the main gates. When feasible the entire settlement is surrounded by a moat. The settlers are expected to form a militia to defend the town and maintain the King’s hold on the region. A true bastide has no strongpoint in the form of a noble’s keep or castle, however, some noblemen build towns similar to the bastide next to their castles. Over time the term bastide has widened to encompass several types of fortifications, including wood or stone works built outside of the main defenses of a fortified city, or some types of field fortification or even small forts. Another type of fortification or even small forts. Another type of fortification used is the counter-castle, a temporary or permanent fortification erected by the besiegers in order to isolate the castle of the city under siege. Counter-castles are sometimes identified as towers or castles when they become permanent structures and their original purpose is forgotten. Often the besiegers surround their objectives with wooden and earth fortifications called bastilles. Fortified houses or maisons fortes have become popular among the minor nobility, who need to protect themselves against bandits. These fortified houses usually sport one or two towers. Fortified bridges are a commonality in Aevos, especially within the Empire since they serve as gates into fortified sites bordering a river. Some of the better-known bridges will have stone structures like towers and other assortments of defenses added to them. 

TO FULLY UNDERSTAND THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE CASTLE AND ITS VARIOUS FEATURES, IT IS ALSO IMPORTANT TO COMPREHEND SIEGE METHODS AND THEIR EVOLUTION. Siege methods are practically as old as fortifications themselves, since as soon as the first defensive walls went up, there was someone desirous to tear them down. Before tackling the enceinte of the fortification, the besiegers usually have to cross the moat. Small ditches serving as a moat could be quickly negotiated either with a good leap or with the help of a log or plank thrown across. If the moat was too deep or wide to be easily crossed or if it blocked the advance of the siege machines, it had to be filled in. If it was water filled, it sometimes had to be drained first. Filling in sections of the moat with dirt, rock, wood, huge bundles of sticks, and other materials was hazardous since it had to be done under a rain of projectiles coming from the castle walls. Once the moat was filled, the walls and gates had to be tackled next. The oldest type of siege equipment for this kind of operation is the ram. A heavy log carried by a small contingent of men was sufficient to bash in the gate of a smaller fortification. To deal with larger gates and sections of wall, the ram is usually mounted on a carriage. The most sophisticated rams consist of a tree trunk or large log slung from a framework mounted on wheels. The log is equipped with an iron head that prevents it from shattering as it smashed into the gate or wall. The contraption is covered with a roof of wet hides to protect its operators from the flammable materials raining down from the battlements. These mobile shelters with or without the ram are known as cats and when not mounting a ram they can be used to protect engineers engaged in other activities like working at the base of the wall or filling in moats. A smaller cat with a pointed iron pole instead of a ram is used to chisel away at the joints between stone blocks near the base of a wall. These cats also have other colorful names such as mouse, weasel, and sow, which is one of the most popular. The cat mounted ram was a long lasting prominent siege weapon. The besieged defended themselves from the rams by smashing them to pieces with heavy projectiles or with beams swinging from above. An efficient method of dealing with the ram is using a hook on a pole to catch it and overturn it. The simplest method of assault against a castle is the escalade, which involves the scaling of the walls and towers by means of ladders. The ladders have to be of sufficient length to reach the battlements. The attackers find themselves in an extremely vulnerable position while climbing the ladders since they have no other protection than their armor and have to depend on covering fire from friendly archers. If the wall to be attacked has hoardings, they have to be destroyed at the point of entry before the escalade can take place, otherwise the attackers will find themselves standing on the roof of the hoardings, presenting easy targets for the archers in the adjacent towers. In general, the escalade is faster than the ramming, and can be used in conjunction with other stratagems.

However, well-defended high walls makes escalades impractical or even suicidal. The solution to the problem is the siege tower or belfry. This device is a wooden tower built on wheels. It consists of several levels that can be ascended by the besiegers. The number of levels depends on the belfry’s height, which in turn depends on the height of the castle walls. At the top, or near the top of the belfry is a wooden drawbridge, which is dropped on the battlements as soon as the tower is moved within reach. The occupants of the belfry are then able to storm over the enemy battlements. More complex siege towers include an additional floor from which archers can fire down into the enemy positions. Some siege towers are even equipped with a battering ram on their lower level. Like the cats, they are hung with wet hides for protection. The building and transportation of these structures is no simple task. The greatest problem is moving these large structures across the moat and up to the walls in preparation for an assault. First, a solid causeway has to be laid down across the moat so the siege tower does not tip over under its great height and weight. The slightest unevenness can spell disaster for the besiegers. Once past the moat, the tower has to be carefully moved into position without toppling over in the uneven terrain surrounding the castle walls. Even the slightest incline could render the whole operation quite arduous if not impossible. All these painstaking maneuvers has to be accomplished under a steady rain of projectiles from the walls of the castle unless the defenders can be kept pinned down to prevent them from interfering. It is the task of bowmen, crossbowmen, as well as missile-throwing artillery to keep the defenders pinned down off the walls. Wooden or wicker shields on wooden frames known as mantlets, usually about two meters high and two meters wide, held upright by wooden supports offers enough protection to the archers to enable them to get close enough to lay down a barrage of arrows on a chosen spot. 

The missile-throwing artillery includes machines in use since ancient times. The ballista, a giant crossbow, is a torsion weapon that fires arrows called bolts on a crossbow, which has a devastating effect on the soldiers. Some of these bolts are so large that they can go right through several men. However, the ballista has almost no effect on the walls themselves. The catapult, also known as the mangonel, is another torsion weapon that’s been in use since ancient times. It consists of a beam with a cup for the projectile at one extremity attached to a frame, usually with wheels. The beams are winched down into a horizontal position, and, when released, spring up to a vertical position where it is stopped by a crossbar. The momentum catapults forward the projectile resting in the cup. Catapults are used in groups to lay down an effective barrage against sections of walls. These batteries of catapults achieve mixed results since they are low velocity and are not able to fire extremely large and heavy projectiles. Their maximum range though is about five-hundred meters, which keeps them beyond the range of enemy archers. The trebuchet is a missile-firing weapon of which its history may also go back to ancient times, though it’s much more vague. It consists of a long beam with a sling for the projectile on one end and a heavy counterweight on the other. The weapon varies in size and can hurl projectiles varying from forty to well over one-hundred and fifty kilograms, depending on the length of the beam and the weight of the counterweight. Trebuchets fire at a high trajectory and are such an accurate and destructive weapon that despite the invention of cannons, are still arguably the most effective form of siege warfare. When used in batteries, or combined with catapults they can place a devastating fire upon the enemy walls. Despite their low velocity, the heavy projectiles of a trebuchet descend from a high trajectory crashing down with devastating effect on masonry or wood. With a range probably slightly greater than the catapult, it was also safe from enemy archers.

A simpler weapon, sometimes confused with the trebuchet, is the perrier. It too consists of a beam with a sling, looking much like a trebuchet. However, instead of being set into motion by a counterweight, it relies on man- or animal-power to provide the force necessary to launch the projectile. Trebuchets come in many different designs and this may be why they are given a variety of different names. The defenders’ response to these weapons is to build higher walls, which, unfortunately, remains vulnerable to the trebuchet and to mining. As a result, walls became thicker. In addition to projectile-firing weapons, the aggressors also resort to mining to bring down fortification walls. In its simplest form mining consists of attacking the foot of a wall with picks and other tools under the protection of cats and large shields. The objective was to cut into the base of the wall in order to weaken its structure. Although the miners often dig from the shelter of a covered trench to protect themselves from the defenders, the operation is extremely hazardous. A more involved mining method requires a great expenditure of pure physical labor. The miners begin their tunnel from a covered position somewhere behind the moat and preferably out of the range of enemy missile fire and proceed to dig their way right under the moat to the foundations of the walls. Once they’ve reached their goal, the miners prop up the end of their tunnel with wooden timbers, fill it with flammable material and set it on fire. When the supports burn through, the mine collapses bringing down the portion of wall above it. However, this operation does not always meet with success. This type of mining is only practical in ground that is neither marshy nor rocky. The miners’ main fear is that the defenders might detect them and dig a countermine. The way to detect the miners’ presence is to set a small bowl of water on the walls or in a previously prepared countermine and watch for the water to ripple. Once the miners are detected, a countermine is dug to intercept them. The object of the defenders is to drive off the miners by smoking them out or by sending a small armed contingent after them. The mine is then destroyed. An architectural response to the mining is the plinth, which renders the base too thick to undermine or ram down. Curiously enough, the miners, whose job is not only arduous but also fraught with dangers such as cave-ins and countermining, are among the least respected contingents of the besieging force.

Defenders are not completely helpless against the besiegers, because they too have missile-throwing machines at their disposal. Ballistas are usually placed on towers and ramparts and are quite lethal to the besiegers, who are usually only protected by hide and wood contraptions. Catapults are normally placed in courtyards and are used with great effect against the enemy siege machines. The besieged also pour hot liquids, though oil is too expensive to pour over the battlements or through openings in hoardings or machicolations to stop attackers. To counteract incendiary weapons, besieged and besiegers alike rely heavily on wet hides to protect flammable structures such as castle hoardings or siege towers and cats. In addition, since aged human or animal urine is quite effective in dousing or retarding flames, large amounts of the liquid is collected and stored within the castle walls before a siege. Once the battle starts the urine is poured over the protective hides. The most recent siege weapon to join the arsenal is the cannon. Their original variants were too small to have any significant effect on fortifications. However, they have become increasingly more effective against weaker fortifications, where several extremely large guns may have a decisive influence on the outcome of the siege. It must also be noted that as castle and city fortifications improved to meet the challenges of siege weapons, especially the massed batteries of siege artillery, armies became ever better organized and equipped to deal with the more complex fortifications. Thus, development in one area feeds the growth in the other in an ever-rising spiral.

EA BYK ZWE ZANYOTSKER ZWEER EA TER PETRAVEZKER,

Linde Illena Kovachev.

Katya Kortrevich had never been a particularly complicated child. She whined before following directions, dutifully finished all her vegetables, and was finally beginning to read and write at the same pace as the other children in Karoslund. Yet for all her outward ordinariness, mischief clung to her. She was the type to swap Moryana and Dszamila’s shoes under the table just to watch them squabble, or to help toss lit candles into an unsuspecting bedroom for the thrill of chaos. That disorder, its sudden sparks and ungoverned edges, energized her. Rejuvenated her.

It wasn’t until her aunt’s death that she realized it wasn’t normal to be like this… or to only have one parent. The absence struck her not as a tragedy but a quiet curiosity, and rather than withdrawing, Katya developed an uncanny sensitivity to the emotional undercurrents of those around her. She sought their approval, not overtly, but with the practiced subtlety of a child who had learned to listen with more than just her ears.

Like a sponge in water, she absorbed the world around her in intricate detail. She noticed what others missed, the flick of an eye, the twitch of a brow, the way a frown hesitated before settling into place. These observations became tools. She’d read the room, assess the mood, and then slip in a joke or comment at just the right moment to coax out laughter or a smirk. Those quiet, hidden reactions, those were her rewards. She tended to them like coals in a hearth.

In the days leading up to her mother’s wedding, time stretched unbearably slow. Guests came and went at all hours, knocking and calling for her mother or older brother. No one seemed to spare a glance her way, which suited Katya just fine. It made it easier to slip out unnoticed in the early mornings, fishing rod in hand. Her two cats, gifted to her by her late aunt, followed her out the back door and over the garden fence with casual loyalty. Katya had been crawling under or leaping over that fence for years. Now, she could vault it with ease, even with her arms full.

She pushed past the tangle of brambles and wet leaves, following the familiar downhill path until the muddy shores of Lake Igna revealed themselves like a secret.

Her favorite fishing spot lay on the far side of the lake, where a broad, flat stone jutted just enough into the water to feel like a stepping stone into another world. Her cats never followed her that far; they always turned back once they realized she was headed out to catch their breakfast. Alone, Katya trudged along the water’s edge, boots dragging heavy trails through the muck. She only ever dragged her feet like that when something weighed on her mind.

Lately, it was the wedding.

She liked Haakon; he was bold, funny, and carried himself with the kind of quiet confidence that others respected. And she wanted to be respected. She had studied him intently in her own way, observing his silences and the way others yielded to them. So she, too, had grown quieter, sharpening her words like a blade. He stood tall, so she practiced squaring her shoulders and walking with more confidence. She had even snuck into several of his meetings with a few equally troublesome friends, just to catch another glimpse of the strange man who would soon become a permanent part of her life.

And yet, she was only ten. A child. One who still stared at hidden paintings of her parents with awe and longing. She had found them stashed in a dusty closet, likely hidden by her mother to keep the memory from resurfacing for her brothers. But Katya would not forget. She traced the contours of her father’s face in oil and canvas, marveling at how deeply she resembled him, dark features and solemn eyes, softened only slightly by girlhood and time.

It hurt to admit, even silently, but what she longed for most wasn’t a title or even respect; it was love. Love not just from her peers or her mother, but from someone long gone. A ghost of a father. How could she live up to someone so grand, when in truth she couldn’t even lift a sword properly? The thought sagged her posture further as she finally reached her stone-away-from-home.

She dropped onto the moss-slick rock and exhaled a breath that had felt lodged in her chest since yesterday. The lake, in its quiet vastness, seemed to listen.

With the practiced motion of someone twice her age, she began preparing her line. Katya had recently taken to making her own lures, using scraps of torn fabric, loose gems, and other odds and ends she found digging through her mother’s closets. Her creations were both beautiful and strange, small talismans of defiance. She hooked one to the end of the line, pulled her arm back, and flung it forward with force, the rod snapping taut as the lure arced into the deep blue.

She didn’t have to wait long. Something tugged, hard. Stronger than a salmon. Her fingers curled tighter around the rod as she dug her heels into the slick stone, playing a fierce game of tug-of-war. She reeled with swift, experienced motions, knowing she had the advantage. Whatever thrashed on the other end had never met a fisherman like her.

Then it broke the surface. A long, serpentine creature burst upward, its pink fins glinting like ribbons in the dawn. Its scales shimmered, reflecting light in iridescent hues like oil on water, but gentler, as though filtered through a dream. Its eyes glowed a steady, soft white. Katya’s heart leapt. She knew exactly what it was.

The wishing serpent.

She had caught two when she first started fishing. Her brothers said it was beginner’s luck. But this? This was no fluke. This was hers, her doing. Her wish to claim.

The reel clicked as she pulled it in one final time. The serpent writhed, suspended in the air, the hook piercing through its cheek. Her grin faltered. A pang of guilt struck her, deep and sharp. She stepped closer and, with delicate fingers, removed the lure and then the hook. Cradling the snake between her palms, she felt its pulse: strong, afraid, alive.

Katya closed her eyes.

On the banks of Lake Igna, mist curling around her ankles, she made a wish so simple it almost didn't seem worth the magic.

She wished that whatever her family had become, or was going to become, it would find room to love her. Not just tolerate her, not simply remember that she had been the firstborn daughter, but love her. No new siblings, no losses or gains, would change the truth of that birthright. But she still ached to be chosen the way she had always quietly chosen them. 

With reverence, she lowered the serpent back into the lake. It slipped from her hands with surprising gentleness, disappearing beneath the surface with a shimmer and a ripple. She had no desire to rob it of its life. Not this one. She sensed it had more wishes to give, more lives to touch. She only hoped her own would come true in time. That glimmer of enchantment faded quickly, replaced soon after by a sturdy salmon tugging on her line. The rest of the morning passed without incident. She returned to the cottage with her catch and fed the cats.

Her wish remained a secret, and she'd watch the days that followed for any sign that it might be unfolding. But her mother only seemed more preoccupied, enthralled by Haakon and swept up in the demanding rhythm of becoming Queen. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 ༄.°

ISSUED BY

THE HESIR OF THE KAROSLUND

⸙

ISSUED ON

this 20TH of GRONA and DROBA, 587 E.S.

VA VE EDLERVIK,

IT HAS BEEN MY HONOR TO SERVE as Hesir of the Karoslund, through peace and hardship, through long nights and bitter mornings. But a time comes in every leader’s life when their duty shifts, not from a lack of love for their home, but from a deeper oath sworn long before I assumed the mantle as Queen-consort of Hanseti-Ruska, and eventually, Hesir of the Karoslund. 

As much as I am a leader, so too am I a warrior. The field of battle beckons, and I can no longer deny the call. Shadow stirs across the realm, and Malchediael’s light demands my blade. I go to meet the darkness where it gathers, not as any mere noble, but as a servant of purpose.

My daughter, Maya Karenina Barbanov-Bihar, shall inherit the title of Hesir, as is her birthright, though she is not yet of age to rule. Until the day she comes into her own and may rightfully take her place upon the Circle of Crows, the mantle of governance shall pass to Ser Sigmar, who will serve as Regent of the Karoslund. In this role, he shall wield the full rights and responsibilities of the Hesir, guided by the counsel of the Circle and bound by the laws of our people.

Let it be known that I do not leave you, not truly. My heart remains with the Karoslund, with its people, and its hearths.

EA BYK ZWE ZANYOTSKER ZWEER EA TER PETRAVEZKER,

NADYA BARBANOV-BIHAR, Hesir of the Karoslund.

⸙

ISSUED 2033

Lake Igna is a really big, cold lake all the way up in the northwest of Norland. If you go past the capital and keep walking toward the bright-colored tents of the Gylldene Fairgrounds, and then before the farming village of Karoslund (that used to be called “The Barns”), you’ll find it. It’s chilly there most of the time, even in the summer. It doesn’t freeze all the way, but the ground around it gets muddy and crunchy and slippery because of the frost. That’s where I go fishing!

Even though it’s cold and kind of spooky looking, the lake is full of green stringy algae and tall plants like seagrass and reeds that grow deep down. There are lots of different fish living in Lake Igna, and I’ve been trying to find as many of them as I can! I started catching and letting them go again about three years ago. I write everything down in my notebook, and this is what I’ve found so far.

Moonfish

Gauntgill

This one is creepy. It’s really thin and pale like a ghost fish, and it smells awful. I mean, really bad. The smell comes from tiny holes in its skin, and I think it uses that to keep other animals from eating it. It lives near the bottom and eats dead stuff. I don’t want to eat it, ever.

Mud Crawfish

Okay, so it’s not a fish, but it still counts! The Mud Crawfish looks like a mini lobster, but it’s brown and gray and the size of my hand. It lives in the shallow, muddy parts of the lake and can dig into the mud when it gets too cold. It’s kind of cute in a buggy way, and I use it as bait for bigger fish.

Miniature Sea Serpent

Don’t let the name fool you, this thing is small but mean! It looks like a snake and a fish had a baby. It’s teal and has hard shell-like scales and sharp, pointy teeth. It thrashes around in your hands and even tries to bite! It’s really hard to catch because it never stays still.

Yellow Salmon

This one looks like the Common Salmon’s fancy cousin. It’s the same size and shape, but bright yellow! Some people say it brings good luck, and it’s even more oily and yummy than the regular kind.

Coldwater Koi

These fish are so pretty! They come in all kinds of patterns and colors, but most of them are silvery-white with dots and circles. They swim super slowly and look like they belong in a princess’s garden pond. They’re not very good to eat, though, too chewy, kind of like eating an old shoe (don’t ask how I know that).

Aevos Blowfish

This one is so weird! It doesn’t even belong in a lake. It’s from this continent’s large oceans, and somehow it got here (I think by magic). It’s round like a balloon, with little stubby spikes, and glows a soft yellow-white. Its skin is thick, and you need a super sharp knife to cut it. When it puffs up, it looks like a grumpy glowing pillow.

Goldenvine Carp

Wishing Serpent

This is the coolest fish I’ve ever seen! It’s like a magical lake snake with long pink fins and glowing white eyes. Its scales change color like a rainbow, but all soft and dreamy, like soap bubbles. I caught one once under the full moon and then let it go because there’s an old story that says if you do that, you get a wish. I’m not telling what I wished for, but I hope it works!

So, that’s what I’ve found in Lake Igna so far! Some are pretty, some are smelly, some are weird, and some might even be magic. I know there are more out there, especially when the seasons change or when the moon is full. I’m going to keep fishing (and letting them go again, don’t worry!) and keep learning more. Lake Igna is a strange and beautiful place, and I feel lucky to live so close to it.

—By Katya Katches, Junior Explorer and Fish Finder Extraordinaire

ISSUED BY

ℌ𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔳𝔞𝔫 𝔏𝔢𝔲𝔳𝔢𝔫

Scelera non nostrorum.

꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔬𝔣 ℭ𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔞𝔫 𝔳𝔞𝔫 𝔏𝔢𝔲𝔳𝔢𝔫

AND HIS FINAL WILL AND TESTAMENT

꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱

With great sorrow, HAUS VAN LEUVEN shares the news of Cardan Matteo Barbier van Leuven’s passing.

He, who was cruelly taken by creatures of shadow, met an unjust end, his body left upon the steps of the Leuven estate as a grim warning to Karoslund of the darkness that still lingers. Yet even in death, Cardan van Leuven is remembered for his years of loyal service to the Haeseni Crown. Both within its royal courts and the office of the Emissar. Though not without his faults, he was a cherished member of the Leuven family: a devoted brother, a loving father, and a beloved husband, whose laughter and unwavering spirit brought light to those closest to him.

Let it be known that his last will and testament will be made available for public perusal, particularly for those named, so that they may bear witness to the wishes of the departed and receive what is rightfully bestowed to them.

꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱

ARTICLE I: DECLARATIONS

I, Cardan Matteo Barbier van Leuven, declare this to be my Last Will and Testament.

I declare that I am of an age of reason and of sound mind and judgement. As by this decree, I henceforth render null and void all preceding testaments and codicils that have borne my name and seal.

ARTICLE II: SPECIFIC BEQUEATHALS

To my beloved eldest living daughter, Louna Marie van Leuven, matriarch of the van Leuven line, I do hereby bequeath the following: the master records of my complete musical works, the full treasury of my musical instruments, a velvet box marked with my personal crest, and a letter written by my hand.

To my beloved second eldest living daughter, Anaïs Nataliya van Leuven, I do hereby bequeath the following: the full treasury of collected painted works, a diamond necklace, a bear fur pelt encrusted with diamonds, and a letter written by my hand.

To my beloved third eldest living daughter, Sasha Solène Barbier van Leuven, I do hereby bequeath the following: a necklace of pearls once belonging to Solène Barbier, my former wedding ring to Yvaine van Leuven, a wooden box, and a letter written by my hand.

To my beloved son, Reinhard Clement Weiss, I do hereby bequeath the following: a silver necklace, and a single letter, written by my hand.

To my dear Yelizaveta Mahaut, I do hereby bequeath the following: a wardrobe of dresses once belonging to my daughter Rosamelia, and a modest trove of jewelry. 

To my dear grandson, Vincenzo Matteo van Leuven, I do hereby bequeath the following: the remnants of my personal greenery. 

To my former wife, Yvaine Conradrine van Leuven, I do hereby bequeath the following: my mother Solène Barbier’s lute, the very one I once accused you of breaking, and a single letter, written by my hand.

To Dima Milena Kovachev, I do hereby bequeath the following: a trio of reindeer, descendants of the last surviving herd from the Matteo-Teodora Wildlife Observatory, and a letter written by my hand.

To my former ward, Mikhaila Colborn, I do hereby bequeath the following: a leather-bound book, a golden key, and a letter written by my hand.

To my dear brother,  Sigmar Rhys Ruthern, I do hereby bequeath the following: my personal daemon-steel dagger, and a letter written by my hand.

To my dear sister, Mahaut Marie van Leuven, I do hereby bequeath the following: a dozen potted grapevines, remnants of my experiments in Furentaliz in the pursuit of winemaking.

To my dear son-in-law, Matteo van Leuven, I do hereby bequeath the following: my entire personal wardrobe, along with the remainder of my personal collection of jewelry.

To Joakim Colborn, I do hereby bequeath the following: a single scroll.

To my dearest friend, Davyd Colborn, I do hereby bequeath the following: a silver ring.

To Karl Weiss, I do hereby bequeath the following: a silver bracelet.

To Her Highness, Princess Oliviya Lorina Barbonav-Bihar, I do hereby bequeath the following: a hutch of four peacock eggs.

ARTICLE III: THE REMAINDER OF ESTATE

To my eldest living daughter, Louna Marie van Leuven, matriarch of the van Leuven line. You shall receive: the wholly owned holding known as Elysian Tailors, to be placed henceforth under the portfolio of Leuven Luxury Wares, along with all its associated revenue, and commercial holdings. In addition to a sum of one thousand and five hundred minas per annum, for a term of fifteen years.

To my second eldest living daughter, Anaïs Nataliya van Leuven. You shall receive: a sum of two hundred and fifty minas per annum, for a term of ten years.

To my third eldest living daughter, Sasha Solène Barbier van Leuven. You shall receive: the wholly owned holding known as Doe and Stag Farms, along with all its associated revenue, and commercial holdings. In addition to a sum of two thousand minas. 

꒰ ♱ ⊱─────────⊰ ✶ ⊱─────────⊰ ♱ ꒱

𝔖𝔦𝔤𝔫𝔢𝔡,

Forever Yours, Cardan Matteo van Leuven

𝔒𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔟𝔶,

Louna Marie van Leuvem

Let this letter serve as both a warning and a witness.

It is not often I put quill to parchment for the likes of petty creatures vying for attention. This once, however, I have made an exception.

I am not oblivious to the darkness you have sought to cast upon my people. Your efforts, though shrouded in secrecy, have not passed unnoticed. You move as cowards do – within shadows and beneath moonless skies, but your presence is still known to me and many others.

In the last ten years, the Haeseni have suffered trials more grievous than most can bear. We have walked the long road through ruin and loss – through betrayal, through exile, through war – and stubbornly, we remain. You, who seem to know us with such venomous familiarity, speak our names as though they are fragile things. Barbanov. Korvacz. Leuven. Weiss. You speak them with disdain, as if by uttering them with contempt, you might strip them of the weight they hold. 

If you so claim to be the harbinger of our end, then I welcome your arrival. Measure your strength against mine, and against those whose hearts are fueled by war and spite. You would not be the first to challenge me, nor will you be the last. In time, the rot you have seeded will be eradicated. I will not debate your intentions, nor reason with what festers in the dark. I write only to make plain that you have been seen. You have been heard. And when the moment comes, you will be met.

To you, the unseen hand that has stirred unrest and sought to unravel us from within, I offer no false pleasantries or pretenses. Even as you cloak your malice in anonymity, your crimes lie bare before the eyes of the North.  

They will not go unpunished. 

Tread carefully. 

EA BYK ZWE ZANYOTSKER ZWEER EA TER PETRAVEZKER,

NADYA BARBANOV-BIHAR, Hesir of the Karoslund, Matriarch of House Barbanov-Bihar

TO COME TOGETHER, PLAN, AND MOVE FORWARD AS ONE

ISSUED BY

THE HESIR’S HAND

⸙

ON THIS

12TH OF TOV AND YERMEY, 583 E.S.

VA VE EDLERVIK,

SOON SHALL THE GREAT HOUSES AND PEOPLE OF THE KAROSLUND COME TOGETHER, AS DECREED BY THE HESIR’S HAND. 

The main phase of our relocation has been completed, and we are now at peace within our new village of the Karoslund. However, we mustn’t rest on our laurels, as time waits for no man and there is much to do before we may again asail to even a fraction of what we used to be.

AND SO IT SHALL BE, THAT THE PEOPLE COME TOGETHER AND DISCUSS THE NEXT STEPS OF OUR HUMBLE VILLAGE. 

As one entity, moving forward upon one path, it is therefore encouraged that any enthusiastic Karoslunder whom plans to attend come prepared to partake with ideas and desires of their own, for the direction our Karoslund shall take, but it is not required. Your attendance will be more than welcome enough.

In the Name of Incariel

Lord of Pestilence, Herald of Plagues

Lo! Unto the Haenseti of Karoslund

I am Incariel, Herald of Plagues

Yet now I come to herald the doom of you, Oathbreakers. This is what your kinsmen in the south have named you. I hear their pleas the loudest amongst those that pray for your demise. You forsook the lands of your forefathers and fled to the arms of the northmen you have spent generations fighting against. The spirit of the Haenseti no longer exists. It died with your honor when ink hit paper on the treaty signed.

Already my blessings are at work, purging your people from this world. My plagues have begun to spread amongst your “Karoslund” so that the process of cleaning this world of your infection may begin. It pains me to no end to sentence the good amongst you to die, and so I offer this deal, but only once: Bring me the most deceitful amongst you. I name Louna Marie van Leuven and Matteo van Leuven, Dszamila Korvacz and Stephan Korvacz, Petyr Weiss, and finally the citizen Joren.

Should their lives not be given to me or one of my agents upon this plane I will have no choice but to unleash greater illness amongst you, and begin the true assault upon your meager settlement. You have one Saint’s Day to decide your fate.

♪♪♪

From Ashes, We Rise

EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present

•⋅ ───⊱ ༺⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅•

THE HEIR’S OWN

NOTICES OF BIRTH

PUBLISHED BY

ON THIS HOLY YEAR OF 582 E.S.

•⋅ ────────────────⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰──────────────── ⋅•

Belonging is so fickle a concept. To discover it where you plant your feet is thought to be destiny. To find it within a position risks one bordering upon dependency; to lose it meaning to lose themselves. No matter its means of arrival, such a thing is ever-coveted by all who breathe. I, a son of Amador, have oft found myself reaching out for it until my arms strained. A search for greatness, a means by which I could guarantee never forsaking my lineage’s greats— living up to the standard those before had laid. Greatness and belonging in a lone grasp. Coupled in a single swipe without separation nor tribulation pressed to its flank.

I once thought myself in possession of such a thing. Greatness in what I’d sworn myself to and belonging as I believed it to be. Rosened gold was all it took to convince me of the path before me. Encouragement that discomfort in where you stood was no sign of failure, merely the sting all who wished to secure a legacy endured.

Although the cobbles bolstered fleeting pleasures, all I feared inevitably came to pass. My duty went as surrenders were made and, for all I’d known it, my belonging too. When all else fell, when my upped roots fell to northern soils, my sorriest moments were decorated by a belief I’d never have it again. Yet beside another I discovered it once more, under an oath with a woman more familiar than my own rushes of blood or stints of breath.

Wound in truth and greater than naive beliefs which ran so frail they could spill from between my knuckles as if I’d grasped at sand. Beside my other, my daring Mikhaila, I mended impalpable wounds and stumbled upon something greater than anything I’d known prior. A sworn promise ne ever forsaken. A belonging ne ever strayed from. And by her, gifts bound by breath were born. A source of belonging.

Children of our own.

•⋅ ───⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅•

THE FIRSTBORN TWINS
OF THE SILVER MOON

KRISTOFF ISAAK AMADOR

23RD DAY OF WZUVAR AG BYVCA OF 577 E.S.

HELENA HELMI AMADOR

23RD DAY OF WZUVAR AG BYVCA OF 577 E.S.
 

KRISTOFF & HELENA,

Decorated by a streak of his mother’s making, Kristoff bears a stock of ginger and eyes light as the clearest skies. Helena’s tresses runs fully pale, a true curiosity backed by her mother’s eyes. Beneath the zodiac of The Moon came our babes’ first cries. Those born under Nikul’s constellation are easily taken by the world’s joys, ever a light for those around them. As a witness to this very truth, I can all but confirm such a claim. Two lights glaring evermore, even upon my dimmest days.

•⋅ ───⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅•

THE THIRDBORN
BENEATH THE DRAKE

SELYNE AMAYA AMADOR

7TH DAY OF JUMA AG UMUND OF 579 E.S.
 

SELYNE,

Holding the names of an aunt I never had the chance to meet and my great-grandmother, our thirdborn carries her father’s ginger stock and, much like her older brother, a streak akin to her mother’s own. Beneath The Drake are the cunning born, all too often meticulous in their attempts to an extent some may regard as pitiless. We only hope, as her steps lead towards adolescence and further, she takes to her makings. To always think before acting, to disregard impulse and hone her mind.

•⋅ ───⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅•

THE FOURTHBORN
BASKED IN COURAGE

JOSEFINA EMILIYA AMADOR

13TH DAY OF VZMEY AG HYFF OF 581 E.S.
 

JOSEFINA,

The last of our own. Josefina, a name I’ve always thought of beauty, flaunts a darker head of hair, displaying her father’s hues though lacking his own vibrancy. Being born into this world beneath The Comet nearly assures one is taken by their stubborn instincts in some manner. Though such is not always a bad thing. Those of the altruistic often share such a trait— doing all they can for others, even upon noble rejection. It’s by this hope we await the first of her steps into this world. To be all we wish, even at the expense of patience.

•⋅ ─────────────────────⊱ ༺ ⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰───────────────────── ⋅•

His Lordship, Anaksandr Amador, 

Heir to House Amador, Enestrik of the Karoslund


Her Ladyship, Mikhaila Amador, 

Guildmaster of the Healer’s Hall

 

TO LAY A WITHERED ROSE TO REST

ISSUED BY

THE KOSSIN I 

VE KAROSHIRD

⸙

ON THIS

4TH OF WZUVAR AND BYVCA, 582 E.S.

VA VE EDLERVIK,

TODAY MARKS A DATE WHICH WILL LIVE IN INFAMY FOR ALL ETERNITY, AS TODAY, THE HAESENI HAVE LOST THE MOST REMARKABLE ROSE. Primrose Kortrevich, known to many as the Rose of Kortrevich, has died. She passed away only a few days ago due to illness, found by her sister and Matriarch Dima within the gardens of their home in the Karoslund. 

The entirety of the Karoslund now enters a state of mourning for the loss of one of our own, and a pinnacle of the Haeseni people.

TO BOTH HONOR PRIMROSE’S SCHOLARLY AND GENERAL WORK AND ENSURE SHE IS GIVEN A PROPER SEND OFF AS PER THE WISHES OF HER FAMILY AND HOUSE, A FUNERAL PYRE IS PLANNED FOR THE ROSE OF KORTREVICH. Any and all who knew the young woman or were touched by her work are welcome to attend to send off the Rose to her final resting place in the Seven Skies, in the village of the Karoslund within Norland.

Invitations are granted to any and all who come in good faith, to pay their respects to Primrose Kortrevich.

 

╼╾

Circa. 2028

“Ughhh,” The breath left her like a wound. She collapsed, knees striking the snow, her grief now naked and pitiful beneath the darkening sky. Then came the ringing, piercing, and relentless. Her world spun, but all she could focus on was the rhythm of her breath: up, down, up, down. She was alive. Primrose wasn’t.  That truth alone made her nauseous. Life had been cruel to her before, but this… this was beyond the pale.

They had started as a Princess and a Margravine, their futures gilded and bright. They were children in silk and starlight. Philippa had met her on a visit to Aunt Guinevere, wandering into the New Valdev Tavern and stumbling headfirst into fate. She remembered the exact curve of her smile, the way her eyes seemed to hold an entire world inside them. They shared a hot chocolate that day and spoke of dreams and talents. The Princess had a gift for joy, a radiant, defiant joy that refused to be dimmed. From that moment on, Philippa chased the light too, always trying to see the sun behind the clouds. That certainty, that faith in joy, became the very cornerstone of her world.

But war carved a chasm between them. Years passed. Titles changed. The Princess remained behind high red walls. Philippa became her Knight, roving across kingdoms and bloodied lands. She learned to fight, to kill, to survive. But no matter how far she wandered, her thoughts never strayed long from her Princess. In a thousand foreign places, it was her voice, gentle and steady, that called Philippa home. Whenever the world felt cruel or cold or cursed, she ran back to her. She always ran back.

Then came the windmill. Then came the fire and the bandits and the choice. That was when the Princess became the Farmgirl, no longer ivory and unreachable, but flesh and blood and bruised. Philippa saved her life that night, but not without loss. There had been a third, and the third had fallen. It haunted Philippa still, not for the injured, but for what it signaled: the end of innocence.

Their final chapter had been meant for peace. A Knight and her Farmgirl, far from war, far from courts and crowns. But the damage was done. Primrose had never thrived away from the beating heart of Jerovitz, and Philippa… Philippa could not survive without the beating heart of Primrose.

She screamed again, louder this time. A flock of crows burst from the nearby tree, black shapes against a gray sky. Her hands plunged into the snow, searing hot, melting it on contact. She grabbed fistfuls of it anyway, the icy sting on her blistering skin grounding her in the moment. It hurt. It reminded her she was human. Her breath hitched. Only then did she realize she was crying.

The darkness of Karoslund crept in slowly. Hours passed. Inside, she could faintly hear Hana’s voice, a child’s cry: Mama, come back. But Philippa remained hidden behind the cabin, unmoving. She had lost something irreplaceable, and it hollowed her out like rot. When her parents died, she kissed them goodbye. She had been there. She had grieved and healed.

This was different. There had been no goodbye.

Only hours earlier, she had confided in Varon, told him how terrified she was, how the world looked monstrous and unfamiliar without Primrose by her side. And now? Now she was left with nothing but oaths. Oaths to the gods. Oaths to the dead. Oaths that couldn’t keep her warm at night.

12th of Joma ag Umund

579 E.S.

As the final frost melts and the countryside awakens in bloom, the denizens of the Karoslund warmly invites all goodfolk of the Kingdom Norland and its allies to join in celebration of the season’s bounty at the Karoslund Farmer’s Market. This gathering marks the end of spring and welcomes the long, sunlit days of summer with cheer, trade, and festivity.

Vendors from across the kingdom will arrive to display and sell their spring harvest—lush produce, fragrant flowers, hearty meats, baked goods, and handmade wares. The local tavern will offer fresh mead, berry wines, and seasonal dishes prepared with care and tradition. Music will fill the air as the day stretches into evening, with folk songs and traditional dancing around the fire bringing neighbors and travelers together in good spirit. Children may enjoy lighthearted games such as apple bobbing and a scavenger hunt.

Whether you come to trade your harvest, sample the fruits of others’ labor, or simply share a laugh and a drink with old friends, the people of the Karoslund welcome you with open arms. Let us gather to give thanks for the abundance of spring and to greet the coming summer with joy and fellowship. 

Signed,

Nadya Barbanov-Bihar

 Hesir of the Karoslund

Her Ladyship, Devana vas Ruthern, 

Countess of Metterden, Protector of the South, Lady of Barrows

♪♪♪

From Ashes, We Rise

EST 143 E.S. - Present | 1590 A.H. - Present

•⋅ ───⊱ ༺⋅☨⋅ ✵ ⋅☨⋅ ༻ ⊰─── ⋅•

A LETTER TO MY PEOPLE

AND THE FUTURE OF AMADOR

PUBLISHED BY THE

ON THIS HOLY YEAR OF 579 E.S.

•⋅ ────────────────⊱ ༺ ✦ ༻ ⊰──────────────── ⋅•

AND WHOMEVER ELSE THIS MAY CONCERN,

The fall of our kingdom — the theft of our lands and the careless decisions that led to the loss of our honor and brought shame upon our people — has greatly wounded us all. Spiritually, for we are no longer welcome within our lands, where our families lived for hundreds of years, where we have worshipped, and where we nurtured ourselves and our kin. Physically, for many of us who fought in this foolish war were left maimed, crippled, or dead — left to rot in bloodstained grass, where no one brave remained to mourn. It has left us splintered throughout the realm, feeling bitter, disappointed, and disillusioned. We stood still as they mocked us and our culture, pillaged our homes from the capital to Koppány, and severed the very head of our cultural spirit — the Lady Haense.

Our fight has yet to end, even though we now find ourselves few and far apart. Some fled to greater nations in hopes of reestablishing themselves, thoughtlessly swearing fealty to those who sought to destroy us, in pursuit of titular success. The rest of us cower like chicks beneath the wings of House Barbanov, hoping for peace and the chance to one day reform our kingdom — though we now nest in the home of our enemy. The irony is palpable.

In the midst of it all, I, as matriarch, was charged with deciding where House Amador would settle amid the smoke and ash. While my eldest so readily locked arms with his childhood friends and skipped down the bloodied path to Norland, the decision weighed far heavier on my mind.

The first option I considered — with the preservation of our titles at the forefront of my thoughts, and the hope of continuing to climb the mountain of nobility toward the summit of success — was to join our Valkonen kin and settle in the lands of Petra. I must extend my most heartfelt gratitude to the royal Therin Adil, who not only conscripted his people to fight alongside ours but offered promises of hope and prosperity. Under his rule, House Amador would retain our titles, be granted land, and integrate into Petran society. It was beautiful to imagine at first — to continue life with few disruptions and to strive once more. But once the initial wave of relief passed, I asked myself: Do we deserve this?

We, who brought about a death war and so generously shared our fate with our allies, now flock to them — or to our corrivals — like orphans, seeking to carry on life uninterrupted, all so we might continue fashioning ourselves as nobles. I have heard every song of the once-‘loyal’ Haeseni fleeing in pursuit of titles and power in foreign lands, wholly undeserving of such. And I know well that House Amador has not yet earned the right to such kindness and faith. There is no honor in taking lands, titles, and jobs from loyal Petrans solely because we once had them elsewhere. The notion simply does not make sense to me, and to consider it further would be a waste of my time.

The next option I considered was to remain in Zvezlund and fight for our right to our land, just as our allies in Balian had, perhaps foolishly. But with what army, I asked. Myself? A son who, while intelligent and capable, could not tell a lance from a broom? His wife, newborns, and my husband who deserve not even a shadow of stress or strife? My daughters, who are not fit for battle? We have no extensive guard force, nor support from our fellow noble houses — rendering us as capable as any other family, high- or low-born, against the forces of entire nations. It would be suicide. But perhaps, had I chosen this path, I could have died with honor. A dullard, but an honorable one.

And so, I have decided on the third option, and the one my son undoubtedly favored: to cower beneath that wing and settle House Amador in Karoslund. For, in absolute honesty, the only place we belong is beside our own people — where the spirit of our Lady Haense may yet live on. I find peace in this choice.