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Death of a Macecatcher | 1922


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Death of the Macecatcher

18th of Horen’s Calling, 1922

 


 

“Attend, brothers, and record my revelation: Behold, and the shadow of GOD is cast thrice upon the land, and thrice the light of instruction is obscured, and men tread the sea in its wake.” ~Ex. Sigismund Carrion

 

The Heartlands burn, its smoke casting a darkness across the lands that obscures the noble traditions of Velec. In the intense struggle against an existential threat to the Duchy of Adria and her folk, many are so exasperated that they doubt the obligation of Raev piety. Why care for a Heartland which has forsaken us? Let us not plunder it as Bandits and take the spoils as Reward!

 

Such interpretations are not entertained. 

 

Fritjof Maor was an international mercenary, a Westron outsider hired into the ranks of the Greycloaks for a chance of honor, redemption and resolution for his own personal grudges. His tongue swore himself to Adria, and he donned himself in the proud colors of the Greycloaks, but his hand did not follow. This renegade guided his actions not according to the history of Adria and its principles but instead acted in pursuit of radical violence. This made him a skilled combatant, achieving great Glory in many battles; but untempered bloodlust leads only to ruin. 

 

It was reported that Fritjof Maor violated the Duke’s conduct of war, attacking a member of the cloth who interfered in a road arrest. He was immediately crucified. Let it be known to all of the Duchy of Adria, the Heartlands and beyond that such acts of uncontrolled wroth will never be tolerated. The Ducal Coronet of Johanes is committed to the righteous culture of Adria, especially in times where it is challenged from within and abroad.

 


 

IN NOMINE DEI

 

His Grace, Johanes van Aert

Duke of Adria, Count of Veletzia, Count of Varoche, Defender of Dumacracy, First Citizen of Adria

 

Markus Marie Sarkozic

Count of Aldersberg




 

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"Hmmmmrph"

 

An old uruk mourned the loss of a friend.

He soon made his way towards Adria.

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In the west, the Adunic Warlord, Tar-Uriel brushes many spiders off his desk before writing a missive...

 

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FROM THE KINGDOM OF THE BARROWLANDS

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Hark and let it be known that the wretched blackguard, Fritjof Maor holds no kinship with the Adunians of the Barrowlands. He was, and is, of Celia'nor, having attempted to usurp the rulership of the Harren'hil from their rightful Chieftain, Oliver Black, at the command of the False-King and Necromancer, Aurelion Marsyr, and his then-collaborators within Celia'nor. He was and is a foe of our godly folk, and his fate is justly deserved for the slaying of a priest.

 

The hearts of me and mine bleed for what has become of the Heartlands, and I pray this is the last-such atrocity to occur.

 

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His Majesty by the Grace of God Tar-Uriel

 King and Protector of the Adunians, Lord of the Barrowlands, Chieftain of the Faithful Harren’hil, Templar of Archangel Michael, and Knight of the Realm

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Oksana felt a burden lift from her chest as she skimmed the parchment in the dim, musty attic of Aldersberg. Her gaze settled on the scarred hand where the arrow had once pierced her flesh. Memories of the struggle with the misguided sympathizer who sought to spare Fritjof from justice flooded her mind, and she felt a swell of pride at having upheld the law, despite the consequence.

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"GOTT be gut" Yvian gave a nod, seeing the parchment posted to the arch on the other side of the bridge, "To kill a priest is an unforgivable act, the inquisition ought have burned him at the stake for such crimes." The inquisitor went back to his writings for there were many more documents to write.

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Renata had fun with the nail and hammer today.

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Soprano Romano hit the pavement with a thud. His name sullied by his actions to defend a soldier who fought alongside him against certain doom. His feet dragged as he donned the armour of the Imperial 4th Brigade, though a bandana around his neck soon would bear fruit.

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