DancingZebra267

MC Name: Zbruh267 Discord: DancingZebra267 Image: Description of Image: Painting of Saint Gerard of Lemonhill Dimensions: 1x2

MC Name: Zbruh267 Discord: DancingZebra267 Image: Description of Image: Portrait of Vincenzo Dimensions: 1x1

The Wronged: Rhorgvar Frostbeard and Aech Frostbeard The Assailant: Antelian Acaln'sae The Wrong: While I was in Haelunor with my son Aech, an elf approached and demanded we set aside our weapons. I told them plainly that it is against our culture, and I swore upon my honor that no trouble would come of it. Yet still, the elf dismissed us, mocking our kind by calling us 'walking beer barrels', and even went so far as to cast us out of their city, though we had shown no disrespect the entire time. Date of Wrongdoing: Year 247 of the Second Age, on the 4th of Snow's Maiden. Terms of Settlement: The full payment of 300 mina and the issuing of a public apology to Rhorgvar Frostbeard and Aech Frostbeard

To the nameless author, and any who share such opinions, You speak boldly from the shadows, yet your words reek of cowardice. You accuse me and my Order of serving a "rotten state," of dishonoring GOD by honoring law. But what truth do you speak, hidden behind your veil of namelessness? What false holiness drives you to slander brothers who fight daily against the abominations that plagues our world? The Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien serves no Empire blindly. We serve GOD, His Holy Church, and the faithful. We protect the pilgrim from heretics, we cast down darkspawn and devilspawn alike. We stand firm against abominations, even when others turn their eyes away in cowardice. You speak of "freedom," as if it were a license to disobey GOD. But freedom without discipline is anarchy, and anarchy is the tool of Iblees and all that is evil in this world. We are not slaves to the Empire of Man, but soldiers of the Lucienist cause. When the Empire of Man upholds GOD's Holy Law and defends the flock, we support it. When it falters, we do not bow our heads, we correct it. To accuse us of being false is to spit upon the blood of martyrs, of saints, and of every brother who has died with GOD upon his mind and soul. So I say to you; if you believe us to be in error, speak with your name, not from behind paper and fear. If not, then keep your parchment, for it is fit only for the fire. Vincenzo de Capua, Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, Knight of the fellowship of Lucien, Brother of Sacred Hearts Monastery, The Elf Cleaver

"Through struggle, strength is forged; through tradition, we endure." A beardling may undergo multiple trials, but must complete at least three to be recognized as a full member of the clan. Two trials are mandatory: The Trial of the Bear and the Trial of the Forge. Beyond these, the beardling may choose their final trial, or one may be assigned to them by an Elder or the Clan Father. Trial of the Bear [!] A sketch of the trial of the bear As described, the beardling must slay a bear in single combat, skin it, and return with the pelt. It proves their strength, courage, and ability to survive in the wild alone. Trial of the Skald The beardling must write a detailed chronicle, tale, or record on a topic approved by a clan Elder, be it a clan battle, the story of a paragon, or a personal account. The work must be carved into stone or etched onto a runestone, then presented aloud before the clan. Trial of the Forge The beardling must create a weapon, tool, or artifact of quality, with unique engraving, runes, or a function blessed by the teachings of Yemekar. This item must then be presented to the Clan Father or a Bearserker for inspection. Trial of the Path The beardling must journey to three sacred Frostbeard or dwarven sites. At each location, they must offer a prayer to the Brathmordakin, perform a small act of piety or respect, and return with a written account or token from each location. Trial of the Shieldwall The beardling must serve alongside fellow Frostbeards in a shieldwall during a raid, skirmish, or official military action. They must demonstrate discipline, unity, and bravery, not through individual glory, but as part of the greater whole. Trial of Judgment The beardling is given a moral dilemma or dispute to settle, either real or hypothetical. They must consult the Nine Commands, dwarven law, and clan tradition, and then present their judgment to the Elders. Clan Father / Clan Mother [!] A sketch of a Clan Father The Clan Father (or Mother) is the supreme head of Clan Frostbeard. Traditionally chosen through trial by combat, though at times by popular acclaim, they embody the strength and will of the clan. Any full member may challenge the Clan Father to single combat if they can provide just cause - a sacred custom dating back to the days of Jornheim, when fractured leadership nearly destroyed the clan. This tradition ensures that only the strong, wise, and respected may hold the title. The Clan Father’s duties are not only martial but also spiritual and cultural. They are expected to: Lead in war and council. Safeguard the clan’s traditions and enforce the Nine Commands. Preside over trials and rituals, such as the Trial of the Bear and beardling rites. Appoint Elders to assist in governance. Historically, great Clan Fathers like Karl Orcbane, Goruk the Great, and Rhewen Frostbeard established the precedent that a Clan Father’s strength is measured not only in battle but also in their ability to preserve Frostbeard honor. Clan Elders [!] A sketch of a Clan Elder The Elders serve as advisors and guardians of Frostbeard tradition. Chosen by the Clan Father, they act as extensions of his authority but are also expected to temper it with wisdom. An Elder’s responsibilities include: Guiding beardlings through their trials. Recording histories, laws, and traditions for future generations. Acting as judges in disputes when the Clan Father cannot preside. Leading in the Clan Father’s absence. The council of Elders is often seen as the spiritual and cultural backbone of the Frostbeards. Clan Members [!] A sketching of Clan Members A Clan Member is a full Frostbeard who has completed their trials and been recognized before the clan. Members hold the right to: Challenge for the position of Clan Father. Speak in clan gatherings and councils. Vote on matters of tradition and conflict when called upon. They are the lifeblood of the clan, the warriors in the shieldwall, the traders in the market, and the smiths at the forge. A Frostbeard is judged not only by their bloodline but by their deeds, and it is through trials, service, and loyalty that they earn this respected status. Beardlings [!] A sketch of a Beardling A Beardling is any Frostbeard who has not yet completed their trials. While commonly referring to dwarves under 50 years of age, even an older dwarf may remain a beardling if they have not proven themselves through tradition. Beardlings are expected to: Train under the guidance of Elders and Members. Serve in minor roles within the clan until proven. Uphold the teachings of the Nine Commands. They are treated with respect but also with scrutiny, for their actions will decide whether they rise as honored Frostbeards or remain untested. Many of the clan’s greatest warriors were once notorious beardlings, eager to prove themselves in battle or through their craft. Tradition of Succession The Frostbeards hold that no leader rules forever. Should a Clan Father grow weak, corrupt, or unable to uphold the Nine Commands, he may be challenged. These challenges are sacred and must be conducted with honor - in the arena, before the gods, and before the eyes of the clan. Victory in such a duel grants legitimacy in the eyes of both kin and the Brathmordakin. The Bear Guard [!] A sketch of the Bear Guard The Bear Guard originated during the early days of Jornheim, when the Jarl’s personal household warriors vowed to protect him against the rising violence between the Domnu and Dechtires. Bearing shields marked with the symbol of the bear, they were known for their discipline and their willingness to die in defense of their leader. After the assassination of the Jarl during the civil war, the Bear Guard became a permanent tradition, a reminder that no Clan Father or Mother should ever be left undefended. Throughout history, the Bear Guard has acted as both protectors and enforcers. In Asulon, they defended Karl Frostbeard during the clan’s fractured years, though they could not prevent his disappearance. During Goruk’s reign, the Bear Guard marched as his honor guard into battlefields, bearing the Frostbeard banners proudly. In Vailor, under Grand King Rhewen Frostbeard, the Bear Guard functioned as ceremonial guards in Kal’Ordholm while also fighting as his trusted veterans in the 18 Years’ War. They’re heavily armored and sworn to enforce the will of the clan’s leadership without question. Their oaths bind them to the Clan Father above all, but also to the Nine Commands, which they uphold as the living embodiment of Frostbeard honor. The Bearserkers [!] A sketch of a Bearserker If the Bear Guard are the shield of the Frostbeards, the Bearserkers are their fury. The tradition of the Bearserkers began in Thales, when Frostbeard warriors donned the pelts of their Trial-bears into battle, charging headlong into the enemy with the ferocity of wild beasts. Unlike the Bear Guard, who fought in disciplined ranks, Bearserkers embraced raw aggression - terrifying foes with their war cries and relentless assault. Bearserkers were not only warriors, they were also keepers of memory. Due to their experience in countless battles, many acted as oral historians, teaching younger beardlings about past victories, losses, and the lessons carved from them. To this day, Bearserkers are considered the living link between Frostbeard tradition and Frostbeard steel, embodying both the wrath of the bear and the wisdom of scars earned in combat. The Brathmordakin The Frostbeards hold steadfast to the Brathmordakin, the divine hosts of Yemekar the Creator. Each holds a special place in Frostbeard culture. Yemekar (The Maker): Source of all creation and order. The forge of Yemekar is seen as reflected in the eternal snows and shifting glaciers of the north — unyielding, harsh, yet shaping all that lives. Smithing and crafting are not just labors but prayers to Him. Anbella (The Hearth-Mother): Cherished as the keeper of kin and warmth against the cold. To dishonor hearth and family is the gravest betrayal among Frostbeards. Dungrimm (Lord of Death): Particularly revered, as Frostbeards face death in battle, on the mountain, or in the Trial of the Bear. Dungrimm’s halls are seen as the eternal mountain where the honored dead feast in steel halls forever. Armakak (Merchant Father): Acknowledged in trade and raids, for Frostbeards balance coin and steel alike. To prosper in gold is to honor Armakak, but greed without generosity is despised. Grimdugan (Lord of Greed): Unlike some clans, Frostbeards treat Grimdugan as a cautionary spirit - a whisperer in the wind, tempting kin with selfishness and treachery. Those who betray the clan for coin are said to have listened to Grimdugan too closely. Belka (Lady of Passion): Patroness of song, celebration, and the rage of war. Her spirit is invoked in Frostbeard feasts and when the Bearserkers chant before battle. Ogradhad (Lord of Lore): Keeper of memory. Frostbeards believe forgetting the past is akin to dying twice. Skalds who pass the Trial of the Skalds are seen as his servants. Khorvad (The Betrayer): Cursed and spat upon. Frostbeards see Khorvad’s shadow in frost witches, oathbreakers, and traitors. Their destruction is viewed as a religious duty. The Cult of Wyrvun Where the Frostbeards differ from many Urguanite clans is in their relationship with Wyrvun, the White Dragon. Wyrvun as Redeemer: In Frostbeard tradition, Wyrvun is not seen as a god equal to the Brathmordakin, but as Yemekar’s servant and spirit-guardian of the north. His imprisonment and redemption is mirrored in the clan’s own long exiles and returns. Thus, Wyrvun is prayed to as a guide through hardship and a patron of renewal. The White Bear & The White Dragon: Frostbeards often intertwine the symbolism of the bear and Wyrvun. Both represent strength, survival, and ferocity of the north. Some myths tell of Wyrvun granting Frostbeards the gift of the bear to test their strength. The Redeemed Order: A Frostbeard-founded holy brotherhood that sought to cleanse the land of frost witches, oathbreakers, and darkspawn in Wyrvun’s name. Though not always active, its memory remains a spiritual legacy. Shrines of Ice & Stone: Frostbeards sometimes will raise shrines not only in stone halls, but in caves of ice or on mountain peaks, leaving offerings of carved runes, furs, or slain beasts to honor Wyrvun’s domain. [!] The symbol of the three great bloodlines The Line of Rhewen Frostbeard The line of Rhewen is often seen as the most mainstream and steady line of the Frostbeards throughout history. Rhewen himself fathered many children, several of whom became icons of the clan in their own right, shaping its politics and its leadership through different ages. Members of this line are remembered for their measured counsel, their role as keepers of tradition, and their ability to hold the clan together in times of exile and strife. Their appearance is typically broad-shouldered with pale skin and icy-blue eyes, while their hair ranges from jet-black in youth to silver or white in old age. The Line of Gorum Frostbeard The line of Gorum is most well known for its role in rebellion and warfare, often taking up arms against any regime seen as oppressive to dwarves. Gorum himself fathered fewer children than his brothers, yet his descendants became the most prominent branch of the clan, supplying many of its most famous warriors and generals. They are renowned for their fiery tempers and refusal to yield, whether in politics or in battle. Like Rhewen’s line, they are most often born with pitch-black hair and piercing blue eyes, a combination that is considered a mark of Frostbeard purity. Another distinct trait of this line is that those who live into old age tend to turn snow-white rather than grey. The Line of Liam Frostbeard The line of Liam is the least prominent of the three great families, and it was not until the rise of Baldin Frostbeard that Liam’s descendants began to make their mark upon the clan. As the “younger line,” Liam’s kin often married outside the clan, leading to greater diversity in their appearance. While most retain at least blue eyes or jet-black hair, it is not uncommon to see Liamite kin with auburn, brown, or blond hair and more varied eye colors. This openness to marriage beyond the Frostbeards made the line of Liam one of the most adaptable and outward-looking branches of the clan. Over time, cadet families from this line established themselves as lesser clans, such as the Metalfists, Silverveins, Stormfists, and Blackroots, spreading Frostbeard blood far beyond the three great families. The Nine Commands are the unyielding laws and cultural norms of the Frostbeards, binding every member of the clan from beardling to elder. They are not mere rules, but the lifeblood of Frostbeard identity, guiding daily life, justice, and kinship. Every Frostbeard swears to live by these commands, and those who forsake them risk exile, dishonor, or death. I. Uphold the value of kinship and protect your fellow Frostbeards, unless they have betrayed the clan or pose a direct threat to its well-being. Seek peaceful resolutions whenever possible. To stand by kin is to embody the heart of the bear. II. Respect the possessions and wealth of your fellow Frostbeards, refraining from theft or deceitful practices. Encourage fair trade and the sharing of resources within the clan, for greed untempered by honor corrodes brotherhood. III. Speak with integrity and avoid slander or derogatory remarks about your fellow Frostbeards. Foster a culture of constructive criticism and open dialogue, that no tongue may sow division among kin. IV. Stand united with your fellow Frostbeards, offering support and assistance in times of need. Embrace teamwork and cooperation, recognizing that the strength of a warband lies in cohesion and trust. V. Show obedience to the commands of the Elders and the Clan Father/Mother, who lead and are the face of the clan to the outside. VI. Respect the decisions of the Clan Father/Mother, understanding that their role is to ensure the welfare of the clan. Constructive feedback may be offered, but unity and order must always prevail. VII. If the Clan Father/Mother ascends to become the Grand King, they must step down as leader of the clan. No one dwarf may hold the burden of both crowns, lest pride split duty and loyalty apart. VIII. Demonstrate unwavering loyalty to the Clan Father/Mother, recognizing their commitment to the clan’s well-being. Support their decisions with both strength and counsel, for loyalty tempered with wisdom strengthens the whole. IX. A Frostbeard can never surrender from his struggle. Only a tactical retreat is acceptable, and only if it ensures future victory or the continuation of the fight. Better to die upon one’s feet than to live in chains. Should you wish to join Clan Frostbeard, fill out the following application: MC Username: Discord: Timezone: How active you can be (semi/always/neither): Character Name: Age:

"GOD is Good!" Cheered the aged Chaptermaster.

Vincenzo sat at his desk, his eyes scanned the towering pile of reports, letters, and intelligence briefings. "May GOD bring you rest.." he muttered, crossing himself. "And may He bless me with the patience to read all this." His voice lowered as he continued. "I pray there's something here. A lead. A name. Anything to guide us toward our true enemies, be they Kha, Wizards, or Cursed Children. Should there be any ABOMINATIONS hiding within these letters.." He reached for the first parchment, his gauntlet creaking softly as he unfolded it. "The Order WILL FIND THEM."

Upon hearing of Cardinal Alaric's death, Vincenzo would fall silent for a moment, as he stood there in thought. After a long pause, he'd mutter under his breath. "We've been at odds for years… and I'll not pretend we were friends. More than once, I considered silencing the Raevir in you myself." His voice would lower, taking on a colder tone. "Still... I did not wish to see you fall. Perhaps now, in death, GOD will show you the paradise you spent your life preaching about and perhaps there, you'll finally see the truth… that Sigismund was a FRAUD."

Holy Ser Vincenzo, Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, would read the missive.. Shaking his head. "Expected as much, it is what happens when you put trust in an elf. It is sad to see that still many men are deceived by elves, but surely this will remind them, who GOD's chosen people are." Rhorgvar Frostbeard would be found amongs his fellow kin, when he overhears the talk of the missive. He'd turn and speak out. "Bah, oi knew dey were nawt all good... Oi knew day 'ad sum Khorvadic illness tuh dem! Good on deh lad w'o killed em."

“GOD IS GOOD!” roared the Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien. “Rise up, brothers! It is time to rid these lands of these devils once and for all!” Vincenzo began distributing longswords and bows to his fellow Holy Knights. “DEVS MAGNVS!”

“NO FAITH BUT THE TRVE FAITH!” Shouted the Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien. “Down with the Raevirs! DEVS MAGNVS!”

Rhorgvar Frostbeard read over the missive. "Narvak oz Morroick! Narvak oz da deb bak akvel!"

To the Brothers and Sisters of Clan Frostbeard, It is with great respect and a solemn heart that I address you today. As many of you know, Clan Father Grungot Frostbeard has been absent for an age now, and in that time, our clan has felt the weight of his absence. His wisdom and strength once guided us, but without his presence, the clan has become adrift. I say this not to diminish the honor of Grungot, for I hold him in high regard, but the time has come for a change. Our clan cannot thrive on the memories of past leadership alone. We are in need of new direction, a fresh awakening, and the strength to move forward. I, Rhorgvar Frostbeard, son of Dwengot, son of Grungot, hereby declare my intention to step forward as a candidate for the position of Clan Father. I ask for your support in this, for our clan deserves a leader who will guide us into a new era, who will rally our kin and breathe life back into our traditions. It is not to dishonor my grandfather or his legacy, but to carry his flame forward, and ensure the Frostbeard name continues to stand strong. We, the Frostbeards, are a resilient and proud people, and I believe together we can restore our clan to the strength it once had. In keeping with the traditions of our great clan, and to honor the ways of the Frostbeard, I hereby challenge Clan Father Grungot Frostbeard to a duel, should he return to answer for the leadership of the clan. This challenge is not made out of disrespect, but in the spirit of our traditions, for the honor of Clan Frostbeard. May Wvryn bless this fight, and may we see the true strength of our bloodlines in the arena. Let us move forward together, for the future of Clan Frostbeard. Should Grungot not return to answer this challenge within one stone week, I will move to claim the mantle of Clan Father with the blessing of our kin. ᚱᚺᛟᚱᚷᚹᚨᚱ ᛞᚹᛖᚾᚷᛟᛏᛋᛋᛟᚾ ᚨᛉᚹᛃᚱᛏᚱᚢᛗᛗ

"Bring it on." Said the Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail. "Though in truth I believe you would rather hide behind your quill and paper than take up the sword."

"Don't like how he rules? Then leave." Vincenzo tossed the paper aside. "Enough kvetching for once, this is the Empire of Man, not the Empire of 'Man and Others...'"

To His Imperial Majesty, and to the Empire of Man, I write to you with humility in my heart and the weight of reflection upon my shoulders. I offer this missive as a formal apology for my recent outburst concerning the state of the Imperial Guard in Alba. My words were spoken with conviction, but not with the restraint or respect that your throne is rightly owed. I do not take back my concern, but I do regret the manner in which it was expressed. In the heat of battle, having faced three darkspawn in a single day and suffering the loss of my left eye, my emotions overwhelmed my discipline. Still, I recognize that duty to GOD does not excuse disregard for proper order. I should have brought my concerns through the appropriate chain of command. For that, I offer my sincerest apologies. Though I cannot pledge myself to the Imperial military, as my vows as a monk and Chaptermaster bind me to the Church and the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, I do offer my continued service in the classroom. I have spent a lifetime hunting darkspawn, heretics, and the cursed. I know what to look for. And I am willing to share this knowledge freely for the safety of the realm and the glory of GOD and Man. If it please Your Majesty, I am prepared to advise any Imperial officer or garrison on how to detect, test, and confront the threats that fester in shadow. May GOD watch over your reign and strengthen the Empire of Man. Vincenzo de Capua, Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, Knight of the fellowship of Lucien, Brother of Sacred Hearts Monastery, The Elf Cleaver

Woe to the Imperial Guard, whose duty lies forgotten, left to rot beneath their noses. On the 10th of the Deep Cold, 2034, I had returned to Alba on another patrol, still searching for the darkspawn that had slipped through earlier that day. That is when I saw it, a skeleton, dressed in black robes, walking the streets like it belonged there. I was not alone. I was accompanied by heathen dwarves who, to their credit, helped bring down the abomination. At that point, I believed surely that would be the end of it. There could be no possible way a third interaction with darkspawn would occur in the same day. I was wrong. Later, while conducting a test on another dwarf, he passed the examination. However, when his person was searched… it was like opening a gate to hell itself. The dwarf was discovered to be a Lich, possibly even an Arch-Lich. As he attempted to flee, black smoke erupted from the ground beneath him. We charged after the Lich. We pleaded for the Empire’s guard force to assist. And yet... they did nothing. They seemed far too occupied with their own conversations at the tavern, gossiping, laughing, unmoved. It is a disgrace to turn your back on your fellow man, to allow darkspawn to breed and spread unchecked through the streets of Alba. I have not seen such shameful inaction since the days of Haense. The Lich was eventually brought down. But not before I lost my eye. And perhaps that wound would not have been necessary, if the guards had done their job. I now call upon the Lord Marshal to right this wrong. Let discipline be returned to the soldiers of man, before their complacency invites our destruction. This day was not a victory. Yes, three darkspawn were uncovered in Alba, by yours truly, because the guards are useless and do not test. They do not watch, nor do they not ask questions. And so the burden falls to those who still fear GOD. But more damning than any undead is this: the truth is that the Imperial Guard force no longer cares for the safety or protection of its people. What has happened to man? He has grown fat. Lazy. Blind. Justice will be had. Whether by my hand… or by the hand of GOD. Vincenzo de Capua, Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, Knight of the fellowship of Lucien, Brother of Sacred Hearts Monastery, The Elf Cleaver

To all who are concerned, be you a guard sworn to protect your people, or a citizen faithful to GOD. It is your duty, delivered unto you by the LORD Himself, to protect your fellow men from the corruption that festers in the shadows. This duty is not one you may cast aside. If you truly wish to serve your country or your Creator, then hear me well: Do not make deals with the wicked. Do not reason with the damned. If you spot one among you, undead, heretic, cursed child, or otherwise corrupted, it is your duty to act. They are not to be protected or studied, but cleansed. They are not our brothers. They are our test. If you do not yet know how to identify a darkspawn, then seek me out. I will instruct you. But even without guidance, you have your GOD-given senses. Most undead cannot mask the stench of decay. Even if they bathe in perfume and soap, the foulness of death will cling to them like a second skin. I have received reports from all corners of Canondom, that these abominations are walking freely in our cities, whispering into ears, hiding behind false names. This cannot be allowed to continue. You, people of GOD, must know the signs. You must know the response. Cleanse them. With blade, or with flame. For if you do nothing, then you have already failed in the eyes of the LORD. Vincenzo de Capua, Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, Knight of the fellowship of Lucien, Brother of Sacred Hearts Monastery, The Elf Cleaver

To the faithful and watchful across the Empire, On the 8th of the Deep Cold, 2034, whilst on Patrol in Alba, I encountered a most foul occurrence, one that I now bring to your attention with great urgency. As I patrolled the streets, I was seized by the stench of rot, the worst I have whiffed in many years. Following the odor, I came upon a halfling, grotesque in scent and manner. When I began to question it about its condition, the being grew increasingly erratic, and evasive. Upon further interrogation, it attempted to flee. I pursued, cornered it, and once more declared my intention to inspect its nature. And once again, it fled. But this time, it cried aloud: "Truffles is just Truffles!" Let it be known - I do not believe Truffles is just Truffles. It is my firm belief that this halfling is a ghoul in disguise. If you come upon this being, do not engage in dialogue. Do not show pity. The only mercy to be offered is a swift death, followed by fire. Burn the creature, and scatter its ashes to the wind, that it may not rise again to plague our world. The light of GOD reveals all abominations. Let not this one walk among us unchallenged. [!] Below a sketch of Truffles was attached to the missive. Vincenzo de Capua, Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, Knight of the fellowship of Lucien, Brother of Sacred Hearts Monastery, The Elf Cleaver

Brothers and faithful alike, On the 17th of the Amber Cold of 2034, troubling news had reached my ears. I had received word that one of our own, Brother Vinton, known also by the moniker the 'Maidenless One', had been arrested by the virtuous Imperial Guard. After swift inquiry, it was revealed that Vinton sought to construct a levy with the intention to “break my legs,” as was stated in the report. This act of treachery brought shame not only upon his own name, but upon the very rank and mantle he bore within the Order of the Grail. It is with sorrow that I declare: Vinton’s mind had been corrupted. Corrupted and twisted by the influence of devils, Cursed born, for their kind has long preyed upon the minds of the weak. We have lost him. Lost him to their games, their whispers, their heresies. Thus, by Canon Law and the authority vested in me as Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, Brother Vinton was swiftly and rightfully executed. Let this stand as a warning to all: place your trust only in the LORD, for He alone is the light. Should you lose sight of it, should you stray even a step from the path... you will fall into shadow. And in shadow, Iblees waits. Walk in the light, or be consumed by the flame. Vincenzo de Capua, Chaptermaster of the Order of the Grail of Saint Lucien, Knight of the fellowship of Lucien, Brother of Sacred Hearts Monastery, The Elf Cleaver

The Wronged: Rhorgvar Frostbeard The Assailant: Velkyn of the Alban Guard The Wrong: Velkyn tried picking up Rhorgvar like a child when he was defending the honor of another dwed. Date of Wrongdoing: Year 238 of the Second Age, on the 18th of Grimdugan's Shroud Terms of Settlement: The full payment of 600 mina and the issuing of a public apology to Rhorgvar Frostbeard. NARVOK OZ URGUAN!

To all gnomish kind, hear this call; deep within the green glades and hidden vales of the wild lies a land untouched, unruled, and unspoiled, a place where the roots of the earth run deeper than the tallest mountain. It is here that a sanctuary has been raised not by brick nor blade, but by peace, patience, and the will to live free. Dunburrow Vale now stands as a haven for gnomes of every walk and path, a place where no gnome need toil beneath a biggun's rule, nor be cast aside as curiosity in the realms of the tallfolk. Be you Wild Gnome, or Oblazeki Gnome, all are welcomed here. No hierarchy binds us, no tax burdens our backs, no master speaks above the trees. Here, the soil is ours to till, our song to sing, and our stories to tell. Let this be the glade where gnomes may live as the Great One intended. free of crowns, free of cages, joyful in craft and community, and ever close to the turning of the seasons. Send word to Grimbol Grobol. Let the message spread, that a place of peace and merriment waits. Come forth, ye forgotten folk, and together beneath the boughs and ferns, let us remember who we are.

Upon hearing about the rebirth of the Empire of Man, Saint Gerard would look down from the Seven Skies, a smile upon his face. The heavens seemed to glow brighter. With a deep breath, Gerard traced the Lorraine. "May this new era shine brighter than the last," Gerard whispered softly. "May the Empire walk in the light of GOD and may all those who stand with the Church know peace and purpose." Upon hearing word of the Empire of Man's rebirth, Chaptermaster Vincenzo's eyes lit up. He rose from his seat, placing a fist over his chest as he shouted, "Ave Imperium!" Upon hearing the news of the grand rebirth of the Empire of Man, Grimbol would furrow his brow for a moment, scratch his chin, and blink up at the messenger with a puzzled look. "The what now? Empire's reborn, is it? Aye, good on 'em," he'd mutter, clearly more interested in the beetle crawling across his foot than banners or thrones. "Long live ze Kaiserreich… long live ze Kaiser," Sir Hans of Wetzelheim echoed.