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Journals are player created messages about things in game. Most of the time these can be considered to be known things, as somethig your character heard via rumor, though they can also be flagged as out of character information that is really only meant for your enjoyment as a player rather than for use by your characters (unless they happen to know of it some other way.)

The Old Marshal's Outrage

Written by Miles de Atheno on 42-14-5 (July 9, 2024 19:31)

It was a quiet day in Enselion. It usually was in such a minor border town, surrounded by marshes and with little traffic on the rough roads. It was rare to see traders in these parts, let alone the war parties that currently engaged rouges to the east and north. There had been some bloody battles, but Enselion remained at peace, because it was a quiet day in a quiet place.

The mortal Captain of Enselion walked his usual round upon the rampart, sword in scabbard, and halberd in hand. He inspected his guardsmen, exchanging the odd word and the occasional smile. He knew them all, and he knew their families. Perhaps he ought to convince them to make him Mayor. It'd allow him out of his armour, which had become rather ill-fitting since he started to border on fat.

"Captain.." An uncertain voice called behind him.

"Yes, Rolf?" The Captain said with infinite patience.

"Look.. There." Rolf said, pointing with his bow out, across the marsh towards the edge of the woodland.

It took a moment for his ageing eyes to see, but then he did. Soldiers. Banners. "Those are the banners of Grainne Isabbela an Asran of Asraniae, as well as the colours of Cecilia Elizabeth McCaffery and Alfred Luke an Dòchais of The Vale of Hope in Caorran." The Captain said, and then smiled quickly. He was about to reassure the young Rolf, but something wasn't right. Those soldiers were not lined up for the march, but for battle. "Good Gods." He breathed.

It took a moment for the old Captain to recover, but when he did, he showed his old competence. He had seen war a good twenty years ago. He acted swiftly. "Close the gates, ring the bells!" He shouted.

"..Raise the garrison!" He added, remembering it was a small force even at the best of times. Still, he wouldn't be the man that didn't defend his home and people. Shouting and ringing began soon after, soon joined by the running of feet and the clink of armour and weapons.

"Rolf. Go, get the lendan stone to the Old Marshal." He said, letting the lad run away to do as told before turning to organise the the defences, limited as they may be.

Soon, as Rolf returned, the old mortal Captain penned a report to his First One, his liege Lord and Master Miles de Atheno, the Old Marshal of the Dale. A report that spoke of the fact that Enselion, and Falconreach was under attack by Caorran and Asraniae.

It took some hours for their enemy to begin, but when it was time they came on in good order, outnumbering the defenders of Enselion. The Captain ducked down after loosing a bolt into the enemy force that rushed forward, covering their ladder-carrying infantry with a hail of arrows. He wheezed and glanced up towards the banners of Ascalon and Falconreach that still flew above the battlements. "Are they poxed-" He began, preparing to properly curse his attackers before an arrow found his neck, and his lifeblood left him.

Meanwhile, on the road between Arescod and Vilnar. The Old Marshal, Miles de Atheno found his attention drawn to one of his officers running towards him, message in hand. They had just made camp, and a pavilion was raised upon a meadow as Lords and Knights prepared to see a meal made of the deer that they'd hunted in passing by the Coiwood. "My Lord! Enselion is under attack!"

"Ah. The brigands?" He began but his officer shook his head.

"Caorran and Asraniae, Marshal."

"What?" He snapped, reaching for the message and reading it quickly. In the next moment, he stepped into his pavilion, and sat at his desk. He penned a message to the Royal Court of Ascalon. War had come, and all would need to be informed.

He was just preparing to stand when another message arrived. "From the enemy, Lord." The officer said, breaking the seal of Grainne Isabbela an Asran and handing the short note to Miles.

My apologies for the siege.

We are chasing a villain known as Sir Getafix, and mistakenly assumed that he was hiding in Enselion.

If you survive the first round of battle then I shall abandon the siege.

Miles read it and huffed. "What manner of insult is this.." He began and his jaw tightened in anger. He lifted his pen once more and began to write his response.

You kill my soldiers, assault my walls, and you come to me with a mere apology? Who in every Martyr's name do you think you are?

Do you see me to be present, Lady Grainne? Blindness ought not to be a trait amongst those that lead men to battle. I shall nevertheless do you the kindness of informing you that I am not present, as you seem to have missed this fact, as well as the fact that the banners of Enselion fly the Lion of Ascalon, and the colours of Falconreach.

You mean to tell me that these banners appear to be akin to those of Rouge First Ones in your eyes? I know of the rogues you speak. It is the men of the Reach that caught and hanged one of their number as the criminal he is. This is the thanks we receive? Underhanded assaults upon our walls, while we have aided you. It is a disgrace and may every ancestor you have turn in their graves.

Sir Miles
Marshal of Riverdale

Then the Old Marshal stood and strode out into the sunlight of midday. He mounted his horse. "Men of the Dale!" He called out to those companions who were riding with him. "Riverdale has never failed to answer in kind to those that seek to strike against us! Riverdale has never failed to answer the call to defend the Reach or Ascalon against those who seek to end it. Once more the call has come, to defend home and country!"

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