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The Trials of Leadership


AstriaS
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The Trials of Leadership

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The Truth of the Events of the Exiles’ Isle


 


    When the men of Barrowton arrived weary upon the isle of exiles, having climbed their way out of those dreadful caverns below the earth, they were aimless indeed, and sought only to survive. Among them, however, was one who approached the challenge with unexpected spirit; none other than the young Princess Caraneth. Even the most mundane laying of bricks or raising of palisades she took to with a sense of glee, which much eased the hearts of those around her. And so, it was then the Knights of Barrowton, Ser Alwyn chief among them, resolved to make a test of it all, and so placed the young Caraneth in charge of this holdout they established – after all, they reckoned, it would be good to gauge the young Lady’s aptitude for leadership. However, in that land of anarchic chaos, the result was something to behold, and in the days and weeks that followed on the isle, a great many tales came to be told of the Princess’ exploits, almost all quite exaggerated – in no small part by spirited Caraneth herself. Hereafter is recorded the truth of the tale, stripped of its bombast and told in earnest.

 

    Most known, of course, is the war against the brigands. Alongside the Norlanders, the Halflings, the elves of Haelun’or, and a number of volunteers, the Princess of the Barrowlands rode into battle. Together, in the cause of law, order, and peace, they chased the brigands from their fortresses, and secured the surrounding hinterlands. And in the process there was conflict with the roving bands in the wastelands, though of these there is nothing of substance to recount. There were no grand, pitched battles as the brigands were few in number and chose flight for the sake of their own lives, and though those ne’er-do-wells were by many declared guilty of crimes most unholy, no truth was ever discerned on the matter. In truth, it was not even a war so much as a series of small scuffles, raids and chases. Yet Caraneth Aryantë took pride in the achievement, viewing even small victories as victories nonetheless.

 

    The conflicts with the isle’s native peoples as well were told in glowing, embellished words. Verily was the fighting with those disparate clans fierce, even against united Descendants of every race and creed. With blade and spell alike – and even calling upon the Dark Arts – the natives did struggle mightily to maintain their hold on the isle. Caraneth’s part in this was limited; one blade in the sea of battle. But still it served to prove her mettle, and her willingness to take up the sword. Though perhaps one or two of the natives may have been felled by her, it was largely a group effort that laid them low. As with the suppression of the brigands, however, the Princess again took heart in her achievements, proudly thinking herself alike to her father, Tar-Uriel, in her valor, small though her deeds may have been.

 

    Of the battle against the undead of the isle, the least of all was exaggerated, for that was the enemy which presented the greatest danger. Not a night passed upon the isle that worry did not linger, for often and unexpectedly would the necrotic beasts appear. With each wave, more and more of their black guts and ensorcelled bones would litter the ground, and it was against these enemies that the Princess truly showed to all the strength of her spirit. In the midst of one of the foul onslaughts, the Knights came to face a great giant wrought of the flesh from many corpses, stitched together by black sorcery. The creature stood some few meters taller than the largest of the knights, and it spoke in terrible, wordless groans. For a frightening time it tested their strength and their steel, until finally a Knight’s blade took one of its legs at the knee to sunder it and bring the monster low. Then daringly – or perhaps desperately – Caraneth began to scale its foundering form and latched onto the back of its shoulders. And finally, with a number of chops and sprays of foul gore, she loosed the beast’s rotting head from its shoulders, ending it finally, and for a short time after folk gave her the moniker ‘Giantslayer’. Even this glory, however, came to be short-lived and soon enough after it came time to once more depart for new lands.

 

    So is told the truth of the events of the Exiles’ Isle. Though the young Princess Caraneth was not quite a conquering hero worthy of song, she had nonetheless accomplished much in that place. Though Minas Amath, as she named their small holding, was not a radiant citadel – in fact it was but a small, fortified tower surrounded by cottages – it was yet a place where people’s spirits were eased and they could feel secure in spite of their recent misfortunes. And it was rightfully so that her deeds, exaggerated and less-than-grand though they were, earned her the title ‘Princess of Minas Amath’.


Spoiler

Just a little story I wrote up to tell the story of what my character got up to in Failor, and to reconcile a bit of the chaos/meme smp RP into something a little more narratively appropriate.

 

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