A Knight's Tale

"A knight is sworn to valor, His heart knows only virtue, His blade defends the helpless, His might upholds the weak, His word speaks only truth, His wrath undoes the wicked."

[agilneanrose]

Gale Inspiration

@adamarmeadowcroft

[adamarmeadowcroft]

Adamar groaned as the blissful silence of sleep was shattered at the deafening announcement of morning by the rooster nesting just outside his window. “Gods I hate that bird.” He growled as he squinted his eyes shut tighter as if he could will the bird to silence by sheer spite. Then another groan sounded as the tiny bundle burried under the furs beside him stirred. Adamar gently lifted the covers and smiled as Gale rolled over in protest to the sudden rush of cool air. “Morning buddy.” Adamar said, ruffling the child’s white hair before forcing himself out of bed. “You know, one of these nights your gonna have to learn to sleep in your own bed.” The boys response was an annoyed groan as he rolled himself up into the now vacant furs. “C’mon, it only gets harder the more you fight it. Get up.” He scooped up the little child burrito of furs and slung it across his shoulder which prompted a tired fit of laughter. “Noooo! The suns not even up yet!” Gale protested, wiggling around like a cat caught in a pillow case. “Early bird gets the worm. Which in this case, we get breakfast. So stop wiggling and go wash up.” Adamar said, strolling out of the bedroom and into the main interior of the simple rustic farm house. He smirked as he set the bundle of furs down on the ground and firmly grabbed one end and forcibly rolled gale out of the bundle. “Waffles, or bacon and eggs?” Adamar asked, hoisting Gale to his feet and thrusting those furs into the boys arms. “Both!” Gale said, waddling back into the bedroom to toss the furs onto the bed. “Alright, both it is. Now, wash up and get dressed. After breakfast we got chores.” Adamar said, already working at stoking the flames of the fire place.

Just as the sun was beginning to crest the horizon, Adamar ushered Gale out the front door, little wooden sword in hand. “Alright, go round them up for feeding.” Adamar said as he began to make his way towards the small shed adjacent to the large fenced field besidet the house. “Bruuutus! Cmere boy!” Gale shouted as he began to run towards the large gate leading into the pasture. The boys yell was answered by a distant ‘baaah’ and the sound of a bell quickly approaching. Gale climbed between the fence just as the large Goat came jogging up to him. “Good morning Brutus. Wes got responsibility today!” Adamar watched from the doorway of the shed as Brutus laid down on all fours and allowed Gale to climb up onto his back, a wide smile on his face. Brutus rose as soon as Gale hand a firm hand on the chain that held that large bell in place around its neck. “Okay Brutus... Chaaaarge!” Gale pointed his wooden sword towards the open pasture and the herd of goats that were all sleeping in a large group. Brutus obeyed with a mighty “Bleeeeaaah” before moving to round up the pack and herd them towards the feeding pens. “Remember, we don't smack the goats with our swords!” Adamar yelled after the two.

Westfall has earned itself quite a bad reputation over the years. But Adamar couldn't see himself living in any other place now as Gale and himself walked the main road leading into Brushwind. “Morning, Sir Adamar!” Called a wrinkled old man, adorned in a set of overalls pushing a large oxen pulled plow. “Morning Henry. And how many times do I have to tell you, were neighbors so you can just call me Adam.” The old man spat into the dirt and grinned. “I’ll call you whatever I damn well please. But since yer keen on bein so neighborly.” Henry pointed off towards the barn in the distance. “Termites done mah loft in finally. Came crashin’ down two days ago. Think ya give me a hand?” Adamar stopped and leaned on the fence for a moment as Gale continued to fight some imaginary monster with his wooden sword. “Your wife bakes up a couple loafs of that honey oat bread and I’ll bring my tools over tomorrow morning.” Adamar said, already tasting that delecious bread. “Ohh! Ohh! Can we bwing some honey bread for Kaira?” Gale asked as he ran up and tugged on Adam’s pant leg. “Of course. You can share your loaf with her when I take you to Southwatch tomorrow. I think she will like that very much.” Adam said as he once more ruffled the boys white curls and gestured that they continue down the road. “I’ll make sure to throw in some pumpkin spread for ya and the boy. Thank ya, Sir Adamar. Light bless you and yours.” Henry said before going back to his plowing. “Light Bless, Henry. See you in the morning.”

“Fadir?” Gale asked, looking somewhat puzzled as he ceased his sword play to take ahold of Adams hand. “Why don't you have someone else help Mr. Henry? And.. and, why don't you like him calling you Sir. I want to be called Sir when I become a knight!” Adamar couldn't help but chuckle as he leaned down and scooped Gale up, perching him atop his shoulders. “Son, if you have the ability to help someone don’t you think you should?” He waited for a response, which he was happy came pretty quick. “Yah.” Gale said as he rested his arms atop Adamar’s head. “When you grow up, if the path of Knighthood is still something you wish... then you will learn that its not always fighting monsters, and saving princesses. Though there will be plenty of that, its the small deeds and acts of kindness that truly earns the peoples respect and love.” Adamar said, giving Gales legs a gentle squeeze. “We fight to put a little bit of goodness back into the world. One... act at a time. And for who?” Gale thrusted his sword into the air, nearly falling back if Adamar did not have a firm grip on him. “For.... THE PEOPLE!” Adamar beamed, nodding his head proudly. “That's right, for the People.” Then gale whispered, causing Adamar to laugh. “And hoooney bread.”

[lenora-reyes]

Lenora Reyes's Not-So-Secret Diary

March 13, 632 K.C.

Dear Diary,

There is a great deal I'd like to share with you since my visit to Darkshire. First and foremost, the rumors surrounding the reappearance of House Sunshield was true. My venture to the darkened wood was not in vain, and in this darkness - I found light once again. It started in the form of Sir Adamar Meadowcroft as he caught sight of me by the fountain. Of all the people that would bump into me first, I might have secretly hoped he was last. And not because I do not respect him or hold utmost admiration to his stature as a Knight, but more so due to my disappointment in myself for abandoning him when he might have needed me most.

Regardless, I have found peace with myself since then in the short time among Lady Sunshield and the other Knights. It was a testament to my character and my inner strength to find courage in life that had fallen to my own self-doubt and darkness. The opportunity to reinvent and bring honor back to my life has been something of a blessing granted by Lady Sunshield. She has ensured me that my return was one that was forgiven and welcomed yet again.

So... Let me introduce you to, Sir Jonathan Folcard - he is the most collected of the knights and caters the embodiment of knighthood in word, deed, and through example. It is evident that he is the heart of the knights, if not the face. There is no doubt in my mind that Father would have spared no hesitancy in offering accolades of praise to Sir Folcard and saying something along the lines of... 'we need more men like you.'

Then there is Dame Eleysia Stormcrow, a Kal'dorei knight with ageless wisdom, ingenuity, and experience in the cursed land of Duskwood. My interactions with her have been brief, but she is an educator by the sounds of it. Perhaps that comes with being a guardian to a child, but... it's hard to say. My Mother would have certainly exchanged words with her about faith and the like. A conversation that I would likely lack the cadence of enjoyment for.

Sir Melek Dy'neer is another knight whose art comes in the way of secrecy, observation, and adaptation. While conversations with him were often unexpected and not arranged, his involvement in my own endeavors are most welcomed. Especially prior to my spar with Sir Adamar Meadowcroft. I would worry for anyone that should cross him or betray his trust, as his tactics are designed for accuracy and efficiency with lethal outcomes.

And of course, here I am returning back to my former Mentor. According to Adamar, my punishment for my breaking of oath was to tend to his son of 3 years. I have yet to meet this child of his, but it saddens me to know he is without his spouse. I don't imagine I will make his child any happier without his true mother present. But for both of their sake's, I'll see what it is I can actually do. And that spar I was mentioning earlier? Well... Adamar is quite formidable in the way of the shield and defense. Not to say his offensive abilities are anything to write off either... Especially given his connection with the light, I wonder how it came to be. He seemed especially taken aback that I kept good care of his former armor, which felt like the only thing I was capable of when I retreated from my duty. Oh, right... I'm deviating from the point... now back to the spar.

Let me just state the obvious. I am RUSTY. Despite my efforts to keep training by my sword. Considerable preparation was necessary after Branson provided me with new armor. Diary, make note, Branson is an eccentric dwarf with a penchant for bloodshed. I think he would sooner goad someone into a fight than service armor if he could choose to.

The chainmail is lighter than my former protection and it compromised my ability to adapt to footwork and apply strength aptly. Yet, Foe Reaper's in Westfall make for great adversaries on short notice. Nor do the farmers mind when it's one of their devices that are haywire that need cut down for service and re-acquisition.

Having had that experience before I engaged in combat with Adamar on a sleepless night was... exhausting. And there is more I must do to earn my honor and hold true to my oath. But no preparation at all would have likely told volumes in that spar. And instead, I found myself doing a fine dance with Adamar. Ugh... that's right... I will have to talk about dances later.

The exchange of our mock blades were not often, but they happened more than I fell prey to them. Needless to say however, when it comes to shields, I am sorely lacking in strategy and will need to invest further on penetrating such defenses when the need arises. Had it not been for my Lady's intervention to encourage me to carry her will, I might have seen myself out of the spar sooner. Yet, I can't help but wonder if there is still some anger harbored deep in Adamar after that use of spit. Or perhaps his effort to make it even was enough to satiate his former dismay in the way of a 'Wet Willy'. I shudder to know what prompted such a retaliation... Perhaps the evil in the world is not limited to demonstrations of crime, but harmless pranks as well.

But it would seem that I must return the favor of sorts to Adamar upon making my way to Southwatch. According to Lady Sunshield, I am within my right to act with retribution and sour the greaves he treads with. So, I am to make use of mud and... soil that which is a knight's responsibility to keep polished and presentable when representing the House they serve. There is no missing the image of my father rolling in his grave that I am going to enact this sin. But at the very least, it shall be all done afterwards. Or I should hope...

The arrival to the Keep will not be long now in Southwatch. Days have been spent attributing to my belongings and arrangements. Sheryl Fahnestock, a local farmer of Westfall has lent me Dopey, her trusted donkey for several days given that my horse was not available. I have been informed that my horse was borrowed when I was in town and I've yet to see it now.

And did I mention the fellow by the name of Finn Skylark? I'm not going to lie, my initial impression of him was... jaded. Perhaps it was due to the locals of Darkshire or my lack of interactions with him. He always seemed... unamused, disappointed, or... bothered by certain actions. When I gave my knee to Lady Sunshield, I think he questioned why I was so formal. Yet, after several conversations now - I think he is just a bit rough around the edges at first. It takes some continued conversation to get him to acknowledge you have a brain in your skull. I may not be the most gifted magic bearer or scholar, but I can tell when I'm feeling judged. And... recently we have come to a common ground for discussion regarding books and improving one's self. I'm looking forward to reading the books he lent me. In fact... Diary, he wrote one of the books! So this will make for passing the time before bed more enjoyable.

Diary, I know that this is a big passage this time around, and there is so much more I wish to discuss. Yet my hand aches from the handling of my belongings prior to this move. To sum up my next thoughts, there are the Necrolords in Duskwood, the emergence of Nyrsylth and Freya, Grandma Mabel, the Kirin'tor Investigator, Mr. Greer, Ichibod, and more! OH AND THE DANCE! I fret greatly on this dance as such a talent was more of my mother's thing than my own. Father told me I was better off fighting than dancing. Now that I have to do both, I wonder what will come from it.

Soon I will have my own room in Southwatch and the deed with Adamar's boots will commence. Light, if I could commune with you, I would ask that if Adamar gets angry again to please guide him away from exposing the truth of my actions. Until next time, Diary.

@theborderlandcoalition @agilneanrose @valorandvictory @adamarmeadowcroft

[agilneanrose]

And how the dragonfly would endure.

So it's true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we paid for love.

Knock-Knock.

Knocknockknocknock. “Harmony! Stop knocking, you knock only three times.” Haven whispers, scolding gently.

“But Momma only knocked two times..” Hope pointed out, adjusting the pillow under her arm as she did so. The comment earned a sigh from the eldest child and then a pointed look at her mother.

“Two or three times is a good amount,” Rosemarri whispered, listening more to the shuffling behind the door than the discussion about the etiquette of knocking.

Once the door opened, Adam’s ragged form filled the entryway. It looked as if he hadn’t slept for a month or five but loss will do that. Darkness stained beneath the confused stare that swept over the children first and then herself. All of them were dressed for bed, and a night away from their rooms as they had blankets, pillows, and stuffies in tow.

The children didn’t wait for his welcome, they marched past him and made straight for his bed. From her place, she could see Gale’s little body in the blankets with a single foot in the air.

When his anguished stare returned to her, she offered a faint smile. “Our nightmares can keep each other company tonight. Your bed is big enough for all of us, yes?”

"You ever think there will come a day when the nightmares will stop?" Adamar asked, motioning her inside. "People like us will finally get to dream?" She said nothing as she stepped into the room. When he closed the door, she paused to wait for him, watching him as he turned to regard the children now filling his bed, a faint smile finally forming on his lips. "It's not too much to hope for?" He didn’t expect an answer as he moved the lone candle on the dresser to the table beside the bed.

She didn’t have the answer. She wasn’t sure anyone in the Coalition did. She moved toward the bed and crawled in, a sea of children separating her sleeping spot from where Adam would sleep.

“Haven is going to tell you a story.” She announced once settled.

“Once upon a time, there was a dragonfly…” Haven held one hand out for Adamar to join them, little fingers wiggling. She had her father’s skill at telling stories and at once the air over the bed became a wonderland of adventure and loss - clever girl. And how the dragonfly would endure. @adamarmeadowcroft

[adamarmeadowcroft]

As grief and agony began to wane, the fires or rage began to build within his chest. Overhead the high sound of wings on the wind sounded, drawing his gaze to the smoke filled skies. A single Drake, and upon its back a rider. “Is this what you wish to see?” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Have I not suffered enough for one moment of peace!? Is this what you wish!?” His fists clenched tightly before he slammed his knuckles into the doorframe of his ruined home. Blood trickled down his clenched fist as hate and anger burned in his eyes. “FINE!” He roared at the heavens. “WITNESS ME THEN! WITNESS MY PAIN AND THE HELL I BRING WITH IT!” 

Varsen stood not far behind Adamar, swords lowerd and crossed before him as he watched on. “Adamar. You must calm yourself. I know your pain, more than anyon-” Adamar turned on his brother, resolution in his eyes. “You know my pain?! Then follow me, or stay the fuck out of my way!” Adamar picked up his sword and drew the shield from his back, setting out after the fading shape of the Dragon and its rider. Varsen shook his head as he looked around at the ruined village and then the smoldering home that lay before him. “This will not bring them back, Adamar.” He spoke calmly at the retreating knights back before jogging after him into the thick woods of Stormheim.

It didn't take long to find the camp. The Dragon had pointed the way, and the loud laughter and chants of victory led the rest of the way. A decent raiding party of those who had stayed behind to count loot and trophies. Seven Vykrul and a single Drake were scattered about the clearing. Drinking and feasting on the prizes of their victory. “The Wolves never stood a chance!” One large female called out. “How fast they run when their tails are on fire!” The group all laughed loudly, muffling the sound of armor approaching from out of the clearing. Only the Dragon seemed to take notice as it turned its head curiously. The laughter was cut short as the large female suddenly gagged from her seated postion on the earth. Something shiny poke out from the front of her throat before vanishing. Her hands clasped over the bleeding wound before that tiny piece of metal appeared once more, this time from behind her eye. Her form toppled forward to reveal Adamar, face sprayed with crimson. The look on the raiding parties faces was one of shock and surprise. Such a tiny thing was really just going to waltz into their camp. Varsen stepped out into the clearing beside Adamar, sizing up their opponents with the feintest of grins. 

“The gall of these humans! Volnir, kill them!” Called the biggest of the Vykrul who had a hand rested along the drakes neck. The Drake rose its head as lightning began to crackle from between its razor lined maw. With a roaring boom, the Drake let loose with its lightning breath. The trees shook and the earth trembled before that blinding light overtook the two Knights.

 When the smoke cleared, they would see a feint glow. Varsen had taken up position behind Adamar, his shield now glowing and crackling with white hot energy, the runes about its face shined blue. Thank you Josie, Korvock... one hell of a gift. The raiding party blinked in utter surprise that the two still stood. That would be their downfall. One vykrul would swiftly have the front of his face caved in as a hammer of pure light dropped him to the ground, lifeless and twitching. Another would let out a grunt of pain as a large throwing axe caught him square between the eyes, sending the vykrul to his knees, and then his face where the blood would begin to pool in the snow around him.

The surprise was over and the reaming four brandished their weapons for battle. Adamar wouldnt give them the satisfaction of pressing their attack as he surged forward. One vykrul stepped forward to meet him, aiming to crush him under a massive hammer brought down from over the towering giants head. His size would be his advantage as he leapt to the side as that hammer crashed into the earth where he would have been. The Knight moved in swiftly before the giant had time to recover, bringing the tip of his blade into the side of the vykruls knee. The giant roared out in pain as he came crashing down, a hand finding the earth to keep from toppling over. Eye to eye, Adamar showed him no mercy as that sword found the soft flesh of his eye. Stabing with reckless abandon until the giants face was hidden behind a veil of crimson. Varsen’s charge was haulted as that Drake came crashing down before him, maw rearing open in a deafening roar. 

Varsens grin only grew as a hand reached down and drew another axe from his belt. The Drake lashed out, aiming to catch the knight between its jaws but the veteran was far to swift. Dashing back and away from that razor lined maw, he lashed out with that axe and caught the beast in the skull just shy of the eye. The blade sank deeply and held as he leapt forward and swung himself up to perch atop the Drakes head. Holding tightly to that axe, he held on as the beast began to thrash to try and shake him free. Lost in panic, its flailing tail caught one of the approaching Vykruls across the jaw and sent the giant man crashing to the earth. Adamar was quick to take advantage and leapt onto the vykruls chest as his sword ignited in holy fire. Again and again, he would bring that blade down into the giants chest before plunging it as deep as he could. His anger flowed through that blade as it became his tool of retribution and vengeance. The fire spread swiftly through the vykruls chest until smoke began to billow from its mouth and eye sockets. Before long, the giant became a pyre beneath Adamars knees. Varsen tossed his sword into the air and caught the blades pommel reversed before swiftly stabbing down at the creatures skull. Every strike drove the Drake into a more panicked state as it thrashed and clawed to try and free itself of the veteran knight. Lightning arced from the drakes mouth as it roared in pain, leveling several trees in its path. Lurching its head upward, Varsen found his grip lose the handle of that axe and his body was sent into the air. Both hands curled around the pommel of his blade as he came back down upon the drakes head, driving the tip downward with a sickening crunch right through the beasts skull. In a rage of death spasms, the drake toppled sideways and onto the rider who was trying to come to the Drakes aid. Pinned, the Vykrul rider let out a roar of pain as a glob of blood stained the front of his teeth and beard.

All that remained was a single giant who backed away at the sight of his clanmen laid low by these.... tiny humans. Fear welled in his gut as he continued to back up until his large feet were carrying him away from the battle. CRACK! A force would slam into the back of the Vykruls head, caushing him to fall face first into the snow. Through the blurred vision, the last thing he would see is that tiny figure bathed in a glorious light. As if Ayir’s chosen, with glorious golden wings, had come to personally deliver him to Odyns hall. “Do it! Send me to the Halls of Valor! DO IT!” Adamars sword would plunge deep into the Vykruls neck, gurgling any last words the giant might have had. “Only Helheim waits for you.” Adamar hissed, blood dripping from his face before he ripped the blade free and hacked at the giants neck. Again. And again until the head rolled free of the body. 

Varsen grunted as he ripped his sword free from the Drakes skull, causing it to spasm one last time before going still. With a roll of his shoulders and a quick wiping of blood from his brow he turned to regard the Vykrul pinned beneath the drake. Adamar walked up beside Varsen as they both took stock of the dying giant who could only rasp and struggle to breath beneath its mount. Adamars shield and sword fell to the ground as he slowly stepped up onto the Vykruls chest. For a long time, he stared into the giants eyes as the snow began to fall around them. “Im going to kill... every last one of your kind for what you did.” Adamar slowly lowerd himself to his knees to grip the vykrul about both sides of his face. “Im going to rip the very hearts from their chests.... as you did me.” Tears began to fall from bloodshot and stained eyes, his grip on the Vykruls face tightening. “You are going to be the first to feel, what I feel.” He released the giants head as his hand slowly reached to the large dagger at his belt. 

Varsen stepped forward then to regard Adamar. “Brother, you strike now and your fate will be sealed. Strike now and you will truly damn yourself to a never ending hell.” Varsen stood beside the Vykruls head, sheathing his sword and folding his arms across his chest. “Remember who you are. What you fight for. You do this, and you forsake yourself and everything you stood for.” Adamar never let his eyes leave that of the giant beneath him, dagger poised to drive into the giant mans chest. “None of this will undo what has been done. Our fates are written long before we come into this world. Nothing you could have done, or done now would have changed that. Nothing you do now honors their memory. Do not let this consume you.”

All at once, Adamar felt tired. Varsens words hung over him like a heavy weight as he slowly lowered that dagger to his side. There was a sign of relief in the Vykruls eyes and a quick, ragged laugh escaped him. “I hope you can pull yourself free before nightfall. The wolves around here leave nothing to waste.” As if the world responded to his very words, a howl echoed over the snowy woods. 

The trip back to the village was silent, save for the wind and the crunch of snow under their boots. Lyric would be waiting for them at the edge of the village, worry written across his face. Worry that was quickly chased away as the two knights emerged out of the woods. “Bout time, you seriously just left me here by myself in a smoldering village?” Adamar walked past her without a word and continued on till he reached what remained of his home. He stared for a long time at the spot where Synna’s body had fallen. Gone. And in its place, a large oak leaf with a black hand smeared across it. It took him time to recall where he had seen that print.... “Runa”. His heart hurt with such pain that it was hard to just keep breathing normally. Would he also be denied the chance to burry his wife? As they walked back towards the dock where the portal home would be waiting, he would note Volkens body was gone aswell. And a number of other familiar faces. All replaced with a large oak leaf.

[adamarmeadowcroft]

The portal ripped open and at once the two men were met with the all to familiar smell of fire and blood. At once, Adamar’s heart sank as through the smoke he could see Solstice smoldering. Varsen and Adamar traded glances for a brief moment as both had something at stake here. Swords were drawn and the two sprinted into the ruins of the small northern Village by the sea. Adamar knew exactly where he was heading to first, the sight of his house smoking sent a chill down his spine and his heart sank. “Light, don't you do this to me. Not again.” He said through gritted teeth. A firm hand suddenly halted him and slammed him against a wall that still remained. Varsen was quick to gesture silence as he pointed up into the clouds. The sound of wings echoed over the crackling of wood before a shadow passed over them. Dragon. “Stay low, stay quiet. I know brother... but be calm.” Varsen clapped his hand over the back of Adamar’s head and pulled him in roughly, pressing their foreheads together. “Go. Find your family, I’ll find Astrid.” Adamar took a deep breath to steady himself, nodding firmly to the much larger man. “Go.”

The two split up then, going in opposite ways through the village. Adamar kept to the ruins of the houses, making his way as swiftly as he could towards his house. He stopped in his tracks though, sword lashing out as he rounded a corner to come face to face with a dragon. His blade bit deep, and only then did he realize... the beast was already dead. Moving around the corpse, he gave pause at what he beheld. Several dragons and Vy’krul lay scattered around the ground, circling a single point. In the middle laid a giant of a man and a large dire wolf. Both were burnt and battered and clearly it had been a last stand. Adamar looked around slowly once more before striding forward to kneel and place a hand atop Volkens chest. “You were a stubborn bastard... but I will miss you. Know that you have not gone unwitnessed, Volken Eldrson. I will tell the world of your prowess.” He felt the hot stream of a tear running down his cheek. “Never will you be forgotten, Brother. Feast well, and save me a seat. We will meet again someday.” He fought back the grief welling in his chest as he gave the mans chest one more pat and pressed on.

So many faces of those he had come to know as family lay scattered across the ground the closer he drew to his house. His pace quickened as the panic only continued to build in his chest. Caution was thrown to the wind as he cried out. “Synna?! Synna?! Baby, where are you?!” His steps carried him up the hill, the smoking roof of his house just at the top. More than once he stumbled, his breathing growing frantic. “Synna?! Gale?! Light, don't do this to me!” He reached the top of the hill and his world fell apart around him.

“NOO! Synna, gods please no!” His sword fell from his grasp as he ran and fell to his knees at the side of the white haired woman who was his wife. The bodies of Vy’krul lay scattered about the front of their house and not one had made it past her. “Baby, no no no.” He scooped her body up into his arms and shook her gently under the chin. “Synna, wake up. Don't do this to me, please!” Her wounds were many and crimson stained her snowy white hair. “Wake up, baby.... please.” Light began to glow about his form as tears streamed down his face. “Don't take her from me, don't you take her from me!” In the dim of the smoke, he shone like a beacon. The light poured into Synna lifeless body for a time, and yet she did not stir. “.....S-synna.”

The light died in that moment and all the world felt dark. “My moon... I should have been here.” He held her to his chest tightly as his entire body began to shake. A firm hand found his shoulder once more, squeezing tightly. “We will have time to mourn, brother. You will be strong, for your sons sake.” Adamar pressed his forehead tightly to Synna’s and kissed her.... one last time. Softly, he laid her back upon the earth and forced himself to part from her side. The door to their house was open, and inside... he found only darkness and an empty crib.

The Light died that day.

[eldrylva]

"I am glad you came, Adamar."

"So am I, Astrid. It's a shame I didn't get to spend more time with him, he... he was a good man."

"He was. He loved you like a son."

Soon after, Adamar's arms wound tightly around his sister's shoulders. They embraced for a long time, and suddenly, the hole in the world wasn't so loud in Astrid's chest anymore.

The scent of brimstone and ash, cedar and pine wafted to the Clan Solstice, then. Their Jarl was watching. And it was time to crown the next.

( @adamarmeadowcroft )

[theborderlandcoalition]

Drawn by Raito. Title: LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I PRESENT THE FINEST CAVALRY KNOWN TO AZEROTH

[adamarmeadowcroft]

The cargo trains had been loaded and everything was ready to be hauled away back to Stormwind. Adamar rubbed at his tired eyes as he watched the villagers disperse back to their homes. He stood there at the main gates for quite some time, just staring at the twinkling lights of the village below. Amazing how in such a short amount of time, one can grow attached to a place. With a sigh, he turned back to the keep and slowly crossed the courtyard. On one side, an entire families goods were being boxed up. The other side, weapons, armor, rations and everything else that would be needed for the fight that was to come were being loaded into wagons and carted down to the harbor. So much, in so little time.

Stepping through the grand doors into the keep, he was greeted with the all to familiar wails of his son. This was beginning to be a nightly task as the nanny waited ever so patiently against the railing on the floor above. Her face was kind, but she knew she had no stake in winning a battle at calming the boy. “I'm sorry, Sir. He’s just not having any of me again, tonight. Should I bring your supper up to the nursery?” Adamar chuckled as he began to move towards his living quarters. “I’ll be up in just a moment. And dont fret over me, the cook has enough on his plate. Dont think I could eat a bite right now as it were.” She seemed to nod in quiet understanding as everyone was rather on edge. “Very well, Sir.” She said, stepping back into the nursery to try and console the wailing baby boy.

Adamar took a few moments to himself after closing the door behind him to his quarters. Everything he owned was already packed... which hardly filled a single chest. He cleaned his face and hands in the wash bowl that had been left for him and changed out of the dirt stained clothes and into something he would have no trouble sleeping in. Finally, he opened the chest and smiled. Fingers tracing over the portrait he had carved into the inside of the lid. His chest ached some as he thought back to Stormheim. How he missed the touch of his wife during the night, and her warmth in the chill mornings.

Gales high pitched scream pulled him out of his dreaming and couldn't help but make his chuckle. “Im coming, Im coming.” He rubbed his hands together as he looked to his newly finished project. He wrapped his fingers around the neck of the acoustic guitar and gave its strings a few plucks.... perfect. Without a moment to lose he made his way up to the nursery and quietly stepped inside. “Thank goodness. I thought he was about to scream his little voice right away.” The nanny said as she moved away from the crib and let Adamar get to work. “Thank you for watching him. I’ll be with him the rest of the night, go... get some sleep.” Adamar said, receiving a smile and bow from the woman in turn before she departed. “Whats all this noise about?” Adamar said as he moved to the crib side to pper down at his white haired son. Those piercing blue eyes met his, and for a brief moment the boys wails stopped. A wide smile beamed on the boys face, revealing that single tooth that was growing in before the boy went right back to crying. “I know... I know what you want.”

Adamar settled down into the large, cushioned chair that sat beside the crib. Gale in one arm, and the guitar in the other. “You get to see if mommies lessons stuck.” He said, leaning down to kiss the back of the boys head. “Shhh now, lets both dream of home, hmm?” He brought the guitar to his chest and gently draped the blanketed boy atop it, making sure he wasn't going to go spilling off into his lap. 

It was quiet for a long pause, save for the boys now softer cries. And then Adamars fingers swept across the strings and Gales cries ceased all together. “I thought you might like this.” He said before humming along with the guitar. It didnt take long for Gale to close his eyes and drift away to sleep. And not long after Adamars fingers stopped moving, did he join the boy. “You will always be my hope... I love you son.”

[theborderlandcoalition]

Family

@adamarmeadowcroft

[roleplay-inspiration]

“Le Guerrier de Cendres” — Photographer: Sophie Narsès​ Model: Juu Fimbulvetr​

[adamarmeadowcroft]

“Holy Light Above. Odyn, All Father. I give thanks for the joy you have brought into my life. For to long I have searched in the dark for a piece of my heart I thought to never find. Grant me your continued strength, to shield them from the darkness. Give me the wisdom to pass on all you have taught me. Let the love I bare never falter.” He raised his eyes from Gales sleeping face to the fading sunset before them, pulling his son closer to his bare chest and curled his arms beneath him. He smiled faintly as he kept his gaze set to the dwindling sunlight. “Thank you, Araian. Watch over my son.... as you watched over me.

[synnaflokkr]

Preparation

She had the little book propped up on one side of the table and a spattering of other papers pinned beneath cups and rocks and bits of everything that she could find. Sometimes being able to see all the notes at once was helpful. There would be six other clans there, brought together to discuss the evil witch that had just bound to their landvaettir. Seven if you included the hodgepodge of outsiders Josie would inevitably bring with her. They would be arranged together.

So she made a note for Solstice. A note for the Dawn. Then a note for the Grimaskr. They were already allies. Solstice had given their Jarl's son their hospitality and returned him as soon as they found out who he was. She knew they cared for the wood, and the landvaettir was the spirit of that place, so they would not just be relying on gratitude to win them over. She was fairly confident that Tarja would follow through.

Bear Stone, however, she had her reservations about. Of course, they were getting something out of their arrangement as well. A supplement of fish. Spring thaw was upon them but the thorns had feasted largely upon the wildlife. There was not much game left to be had and it would take time to heal itself.

She paused to make another note. The wildlife situation. It would probably be best to leave them alone until the population stabilized for logistical reasons but she knew she wasn't going to be able to get the other clans to agree to that. They still had to feed themselves and not all of them were prone to fishing.

The ones they hadn't made contact with. The Endrthaga, Forelda, Underthing and Kadall.

She didn't have high hopes for Kadall. They had high walls and trade arrangements with a lot of places outside of the Runewood. There wasn't much they could leverage with and little they could offer. They still had to try.

According to Kvigr and Adamar the underground was largely safe from the briarhusks. And those had cleared out, which was going to make this entire thing look like less of an obvious problem. Underthing was safe but that would not stop them from starving. Jarl Osmond of Underthing wasn't going to want to work with his father. Ironic that what she had to offer Bear Stone was the same that she had to offer him. ...he wasn't going to want to work with Volken, either. But he'd taught her the lute. She had fond memories of sitting with him when she'd been fourteen and he'd been seventeen, back before he'd cut his eye out as an offering. She remembered thinking him handsome, then. Perhaps he would remember that they had been friends, once. The Endrthaga were silent warriors. They maimed their tongues to prevent themselves from crying out on the field of battle. An Endrthaga always dies in silence. It was difficult to treat with someone who could not answer you, and their faces rarely gave away more than their voices did. She had hope for Forelda, though. Everyone here honored their ancestors, but Forelda found magic in doing so. Called on ancient vrykul arts to call them spiritually to their sides.

Spirits were good at seeing all that bigger picture stuff.

...so she could count on Grimaskr. She could count on Bear Stone. She could almost count on the fact that Kadall would not want to get involved. So it was the other three that they were vying for, then. And she had the highest hopes for Forelda and for Underthing...if they could manage to court their attention without riling the bears.

All of these notes, she compiled and bound together to send to Josephine. She would need to know. For preparation.

@josephinerowanbourne

[agilneanrose]

A gift.  The shield. 

Dear Adam, 

I pray for your family’s safety and your wellness is forever on my mind. The wedding gift that I had crafted for you is now finished and you will find that wrapped and to be delivered with this message. 

Titans keep you. May evil fear you and may the light serve you. 

@adamarmeadowcroft​

[agilneanrose]

@synnaflokkr

@adamarmeadowcroft

[agilneanrose]

@synnaflokkr

@adamarmeadowcroft

[agilneanrose]

@synnaflokkr

@adamarmeadowcroft