Raising an Old Banner

[Narthok 9213]

Raising an Old Banner

Spoiler

 

 

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It had been a long time. He could not remember quite how long. His memories had become foggy and unclear. But he could remember enough.

 

He remembered the betrayal. The snickering of the silken nobles, chasing skirts and gorging themselves while better men fought a hopeless war.

 

He remembered the scent of honey and the laughing of children. He had been a Lord once. Not some fledgling hedge baron of a pile of stones embarrassingly named a ‘keep’. No, he had been Father to a people, protector of their great walls. Bondsman to the last Emperor that could be called ‘noble’ and truly deserve such a title.

 

He remembered the red rage. The unceasing curse of his kinfolk. He had been taken from his people, he could not recall precisely how. Nor could he recall precisely when. But the aged scholars speak of fire and ruins. Of a desiccated shadow of a once bustling township.

 

He had been deprived of his chance to uphold his duties, to uphold his obligations. He had not abandoned his people.. He had been taken. Yet the distinction made no difference. The Arischfolk had been scattered to the four winds. 

 

---

 

He had been returned to the lands, he recalled the sweet seasong of the lapping waves, the smell of salt and brine, the wind snapping sails. But beyond that was beyond his ken. 

 

The world had changed. It had aged without him. Humanity still suffered from the scars of the betrayal. Divided. Scared. Weak. A dozen princelings squatting behind walls. How had it come to this. With each new township he visited his ire grew. These were the fruit of humanity? The produce of the fields of history sown with so much iron and blood?

 

Lesser sons of greater sires.

 

---

 

A few of his old attendants had found him. How he could not know. But they had found him. They had offered him their swords and loyalty. It cut his heart.

 

After all this time. After all the suffering. Still they believed in his vision. The divine was too kind to an old soul in a young body.

 

---

 

His dreams had been torturous. Perhaps that is not the right word. Vivid? Who can say. Nonetheless the old soul in the young body had slept poorly. His dreams filled with visions of blood and iron. A great forest fire, the rotten wood cleared away, the great trees no longer choked by decay. What could it mean..

 

---

 

The old soul shrugged away his musings. One of his attendants, an ageless elf, priest of a half forgotten God, had preserved his venerable banner. Its colours faded, its edges ragged and worn. Yet as it was raised in the golden light of the cold morning it proudly waved in the wind. 

 

His dreams were not the delusions of a mad men.. They were a divine mission. To carry it out he would first need to reunify the remnants of his lost people.

 

The banner was raised. Would they come?

---

Spoiler

Can interact / rp in responses or in game

 

[MailC3p 1159]

Spoiler

Holy shit he's back

 

[MaltaMoss 1771]

Ceaseless chittering rose from beneath the waning moon, a scourge of black masked bannerman giggling wildly to themselves as news of their liege-lord's return came from afar.

The Shedfolk of Arichsdorf reveled in the news, laughing the night away.

[Deer__ 529]

Spoiler

Not this guy again.

Hi Narthok :D