Weightless. Twin roe, ruby-red, floated softly in the undercurrent, layers peeling from it until they were translucent fins, like the skirt of a cuttlefish. It was a thing more than a creature, in the same way a pupa shell is a thing. Slowly, undulating with the tides, it made its way toward the...
Shortly after being sworn into knighthood, Innis left her home in the monastery to serve under the til Clemonde family. The Marsh Lords in those lands had an ancient treaty with the Order: one of their own kin sworn to knightly service, in exchange for an Anathaeum weaver. And so Syr Innis was...
Flex those muscles and be admired by all, it is that time again for the hes, shes, and theys of Astenvale and beyond to make their way to the Astenvale Monastery and compete in a series of events to win the ultimate prize of being the Himbo above all.
This thread is open to all, whether you be...
HUSH, O BABE
While the red bee hums
The silent twilight’s fall.
Syrs Helena, Innis, Faramund, & Osytha
Summer of 352 EOD
A continuation of Now Hands That Build
Quite possibly no other knight has ridden so far, nor so hard, in search of a flower.
Hurt-sickle. Also goes by basket flower...
--------
A life lived, dug deep,
Hard Sworn,
Returned.
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There he stood, resolute, grounded. An oak that nary swayed even under the most violent maelstroms. A vigil now maintained hours long as log was stacked upon log; kindling stuffed between best as proprietary allowed. A squire's...
Never had Duscan thought that he would be in the shithouse. Of course, he has, but not with a lady he had taken a fancy to. Perhaps it was ill-fated from the start, that he was the muse and she the artist. Was this her gentle way of letting him down softly? That he no longer amused and...
The month of Hochtar, 351 E.O.D
A league from Akkelon, City of Silver
What goes around comes around...
Something was not quite right with Innkeeper Sverod. Faramund knew it, he just couldn't prove it. It's the eyes, he remembered thinking the moment fate had brought him face-to-face with the...
The Wishing Well had never really sold it's abilities and mystique to her before, but as a young squire new to this place, Ione had followed her friends here each time they felt they needed luck on their side before examinations of their training.
Those friends brought something small, a...
"Gruki!"
The call came from seemingly nowhere, not until dust kicked up under Syr Kerraelas' boots. She was running, for the life of her, but there was no pursuant after her. Instead, as she forced people to step out from her way, she held a wooden box.
"Gruki! Wait for me!" She yelled, her...
"How are you holding up, Kerraelas?"
Saskia stirred, twisting towards the figure lit in a halo that stood only at the threshold of her door. Her room, small and yet filled to the brim in belongings, was dark. It was a reflection of her feelings, and her shadows came at the call of her...
"Lift it higher, Argante." Called out Syr Ceron. "The blade is not that heavy." A grin spread across his mouth.
That only made Haelyn Argante grit her teeth to see. With a groan of irritation, loud enough to let them all hear, she lifted the blade again and struck out against Syr Ceron, who...
Born the son of a well-respected senator, he should have grown into pride and purpose, but his voice betrayed him early. His stutter marking him, in his father’s eyes, flawed.
His father and brothers tried to beat the weakness out of him, his family grinding him down with cruel lessons...
- The Oakfather -
Third son of a minor noble. The Order gave him a home, purpose, and most importantly, a family. Thus Dejan takes his responsibilities towards the Knights Anatheum very seriously. He possesses a generous but pragmatic heart, losing an arm is not a lesson easily learned. Yet...
A curse bearer. Once set upon a path to find vengeance, now she is a Knight of Anathaeum.
Of the land most damp and dank, Josai is prone to the cool and shady. An accomplished healer, more scholar than warrior. Still, her calm stride is guided not by staff or by rod, but by a winged spear.
A field Sworn of the Knights of Anathaeum.
"Let me speak to you of a home you cannot know, of a father who never taught you and a mother who never held you close.
Let me tell you of the darkest places in the earth and the darker things men do there.
I had killed another before I felt the wind...
Life in the Monastery of the Anathaeum sworn was oft about preparation.
Preparation of blades to meet the steel of others. Preparation of food to fill the stomach of the dutiful. Preparation of squires to meet another request greater gladly. Stacking the odds in the favour of the cause, mindful...
When she had been elected Captain of Dawn, Helena did not realize how much of her time would be spent looking over supply lists. Checking numbers. Reading over missives to be sent and received.
Out:
Two horses, questing rations for eight pairs. Supplies for Gwinholm - poultices, seeds...
Aarno,
I hope this letter doesn't find you too confused at my own forwardness, and instead finds you well. The only thing I wish you to be while I am away on this mission for the Order.
I've been out in the field now for a fortnight and I dream of a soft bed and socks that are not wet. But I...
A bastard, of Bellamy blood. Son to Enrika Iramene, Mistress of the Iramene estate, a minor March Hold west of the Vayden Wilds. His stepfather, Rodrick Vodlan, has little love for him.
He arrived at the Monastery at the formative age of sixteen, upon recommendation of one Syr Vodlan of Dawn...
Born to miners in the Village of Gladstone, along the foothills of the Mheara, Helena's childhood was rather unremarkable. And when the cave-in took her father, and most of the mining towns able bodied men, it became tinged with hungry desperation. Those who could left the doomed village, the...
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