MURKWATER'S DUE

[Xarkly 17299]

 

 

 

ISSUED BY THE

ON THIS 13th DAY OF JOMA & UMUND OF 532 E.S.

 

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

Hark, all Canondom; for, on this day, we servants of the Holy Light have ridden into battle.

 

Through the northern wastes we rode, a party of fourteen strong, with the banner of the White Comet joined by that of St. Jude, and our retinue blessed with the presence of Pontifex Caius I and King Ivan of Haense. Our quarry lay far to the north, where the sheer cliffs of Aevos’ north coast played host to the domain of the necromancer Reynard Delmar - who in undeath calls himself the Gravelord Kryndomere - under the guise of the trading port of Murkwater.

 

This trading port is a twofold guise - above, on the surface, there stands a keep dubbed ‘Castle Black’, resident to a court of Vampyres who swear themselves to ‘Vukosav’ - a Vampyre of some apparent notoriety, who rules in absentia. In his absence, regency of this bloodsucking court is claimed by the Vampyre Florian - a Shadowspawn I know well, and who once hostaged children from the lands of Vortice to save his own life.

 

Below, beneath the cliffs, stands the gaping maw of Port Minas, is the Gravelord’s own domain, where he plays host to all manner of Undead, Infernians, and Frost Witches. Fortified by all manner of gateways and Dwarven doors, it is a naval fortress that would give pause to the hardiest siegemakers.

 

The mission - beneath the banner of Pontiff and King alike - was borne from a single, frightened question: even with mankind’s strongest, would it be possible to land a blow against this blight?

 

 

 

 

 

The question was asked in steel.

 

Below, the machinations of Patriarch Villorik and Tatiyana vas Ruthern served to distract Kryndomere’s court in the port below, while Joakim Colborn led Pontifex Caius I, King Ivan, and the rest of their force deployed rope ladders to assail the walls of Castle Black, and enter through a smashed window. The Light granted Lord Joakim its unabashed fortune, for there was almost no door that he failed to break open. Control of Castle Black was secured, its servant taken captive, and the main gate controlled by the White Comet.

 

With requisite reconnaissance, the allied Canonist force fanned into the keep’s bowels, where they knew a hidden lift would ferry them to the Gravelord’s lair below, and place them to the flank of his baying forces. Alas, we were bereft of our opportunity to flank -- for the Gravelord’s forces came to us.

 

Up the hill they marched - a cabal of some dozen Shadowspawn and familiars - only to find that the White Comet had already secured Castle Black. Robbed of a favourable fight by their own castle gates, the Canonist forces bloodied them on their attempts to breach the keep - a ten-foot Infernal familiar was cowed from breaching the portcullis by the Pontiff’s contingent; King Ivan’s retinue slew a dark spellcaster in the gatehouse above, and assailed the Shadowspawn below with arrows and alchemy; and St. Jude and the White Comet repelled Shadowsworn swordsmen from the castle’s sally-port.

 

When the reprehensible Sermi - commander-apparent of Kryndomere’s defence - gave the call to retreat, that fateful question was answered, and as Castle Black burnt under Canonist torches, a message was carved in the fire.

 

 

 

 

 

HEAR ME, FLORIAN

You witness the bite of the White Comet, and the Canonist Church.

If you truly wish to protect your kin, then you will seek me out.

You will repent. You will help me slay Kryndomere.

 

HEAR ME, KRYNDOMERE

Once, a young Prince spoke unto me that you begrudge your dark fate.

Not even you allude repentance. Tear down the walls of Port Minas, and bring your followers into the Light.

If you do not, these coming years shall be your last.

 

HEAR ME, CANONDOM

All those who break-bread with the Murkwater Coven will share their fate.

 

 

 

 

 

[Cheese 8882]

Juniper, wherever she may be, found herself with a copy of the missive, humming upon reading the Coven’s name with vague familiarity. She made a note that a letter should be written, at some point. And then, she returned to her nameless travels.

[Karina 1882]

The draugar stretched mummified hands to fold the missive. A tepid silence settled, as wind and snow berated her form. Ice clung to her robes, cracking with each movement. 

Failure. 

It was not such a pleasant taste. She considered the disorganization of the forces, what more she could have done to better prepare. Command wasn't something she had hoped for, nor was it even her station. But combat demanded focus, demanded order. Eventually, her steps trudged closer to the purpose of her wandering. A great tear, in the world. 

As she came to bathe in its light, did she contemplate what it all meant. Committing herself to deep, continual thought. Replaying every event in her mind from a thousand different angles. Such was the clarity granted to her, by an unshifting and certain form. This was just one battle. The true war was yet to come.

They're hunting the wrong ones, she thought to herself. But one ambition scathed far outweighed the peace it brought to the others. It was only a matter of time.

And that, she had in abundance. 

[rathat 868]

[asoart 133]

William was greatly motivated to march after hearing about a threat to a loved one by Florian. It was no lie that the squire had been shaking on the way—out of fear, cold, adrenaline and anger—yet he was determined for payback. He prayed he would find Florian there to put a stop to the vampyre's torment upon cured individuals. "A threat for a threat." he mumbled after returning without any sight of Florian.