A Time of Darkness.

[Carnath-Emory]

I, Giscard Guillaume, Lord of Lothbury Estate, Councilor of the Myrken Wood Judiciary In Regards To Commerce and Trade Etc., to His Honour Joseph O'Cynen, the Councilor of Agriculture; to His Honour Marquis Malegnone Al-D'arcu, the Councilor of Defence and Civil Security; to His Honour Aloisius Treadwell, the Councilor for Administrative Sanctions; to Thomas Daniels, Captain of the Myrken Wood Guard, Order of Straka, etc.;: Greetings. Would that this communication brought with it more pleasant tidings.

In brief, we are besieged by darkness, and the monstrous spawn it has birthed. The woods surrounding the Silver Lake are no longer considered safe; axemen will not approach them, nor trappers, and I am loathe to consider even Straka entering this area, which is said to play host to creatures neither cat, nor lizard, but some wierdling blend of the two. Lights of no earthly origin have been seen amongst the trees; the snow favours us, else fire might have taken the entire region.

Two corpses were brought to my lands this morning; to my very door, in the arms of their heirs and fathers. More are certain to follow, if action is not taken. I propose that we do not permit this eventuality. Two actions have already been undertaken:

Firstly, that in the absence of communication from, or rumour of, Altias Bromn, our past Governor is hereby declared deceased, until evidence surfaces to the contrary. I have taken upon myself, with some reluctance, the post of Interim Governor, until such time as decisions can be made in accordance with our traditions. That time, alas, is not now.

Secondly, that construction has begun upon walls and watchtowers flanking the most frequented roads of access to Myrken Wood. For years we have policed the interior of our land, with little result. While Captain Daniels has been exlempary in his leadership of the Order of Straka, he is crippled by matters and persons beyond his control: hostile, alien forces drawn to us from beyond the boundaries of our borders. I intend that an end be put to this matter now, and request that the Order see with all urgency to the policing of these borders with what men they can spare, and with members of the Myrken Militia as available.

Gentlemen, we are besieged by external forces, and have been for several years. The beast Zayken. The horde of dragons which crossed our borders with impunity. The Baie. The monstrous drow Audmathus. An end must -- and will -- be put to these obscene attacks upon our land. I thank you for your co-operation in this time of peril.



Done by my hand at the Estate of Lothbury, this 5th day of December.

Giscard Guillaume.

[Treadwell]

Tready was late in getting his copy of Guillaume's letter opened, too caught up in his slightly more important annual work. In short, he'd been plugging away day and night at the goods in his toy shop--last minute filling of orders and requests both spoken and silently wished.

"INTERIM GOVERNOR?! He couldn't do this when Gad Phuri was killed, but he takes it up willingly on *assuming* Altias is dead?!"

So it is that a steaming Treadwell sets quill to paper and sends his own sort of letter out.

= = = = =
To Giscard Guillaume, Councilor of Trade and Commerce:

My dear, dear Giscard. . . this isn't quite the sort of last-ditch effort I had in mind! But, I reckon you would be slightly more effective at being Governor than I would. Goodness knows I've only had experience as such here before and had a very similar position at home for a goodly number of years. Mmph. Well, so it is, Governor. If you need me, do let me know, sir.

To your health and continued safe rule in Altias's absence.

Aloisius Treadwell
= = = = =

Then Tready's back to pounding and stuffing and sawing and making more toys.

[Tyralor]

There invariably seemed to be some political chaos causing disturbances within Myrken Wood.

The Heretic hadn't heard of any particular issue recently. Which meant something was afoot of course. Politicians not meddling in their affairs? Captain Daniels not stalking here and there amongst the men? Something was stirring.

Of course, there was an immediate benefit. The Heretic positively loathed politicians, and wasn't objecting to the lack thereof in his current exsistance. No doubt they'd come along and tell him to do something eventually. And he'd respond that it was being done already to the best of his ability, and they don't pay him enough for the work he does, let alone the extra work he puts into the Order.

Lieutenant Joshua Kilborn, the Heretic, had little doubt that things would go on as they always do. No matter what he'd tried to do, things hadn't changed yet. No men, or twenty thousand men. Myrken Wood simply drew problems from the folds like sugar drew ants.

So he'd wish that things were different. Were better. But they weren't, so he did the job that he would die doing, and woe to any that'd stand in his way.

[Rattrap]

Captain Thomas Daniels read the letter sent to him. He hadn't waited for it for action, naturally - towers had already been constructed, with more on the way. The forest had been put under an especially intense watch - a good deal of the tree line was brightly lit from a safe distance by torches and patrolling guardsfolk. It was another time of darkness, and the captain couldn't help but frown. His aide stepped in, leaning halfway into the door way. "Should I gather the lieutenants?"

Thomas shook his head. They knew what to do without being told. There was little reason to convene on the matter.

* * *

The letter written to Councilor Joseph O'Cynen was brought in and placed on the farmer's desk, where it sat unopened while the doorwomen waited for Joseph's return to alert him to Giscard's letter. Those inside were worried for those outside in the dark, hoping and praying that they made it back without trouble and soon.

[Altias_Bromn]

“Is not!”

“Is SO. My dad told me.”

“Your dad is a dirty liar!”

“Take that back!”

Joshua hurled himself at Timothy, his face red with rage. Timothy himself already angry, though tears streamed down his face as the two bodies collided to roll in the snow in the center of the town square. Tiny fists flew, as hair was grasped and pulled free from flesh.

“Joshua David Felter. Just what in the name of all that is holy do you think you are doing?”

The two froze in place as the soft but powerful voice washed over them. Joshua turned his pale jade eyes toward the voice, cringing openly as his vision confirmed what his other sense already know. His father, Barnabus Felter.

“Timmy called you a filthy liar! He did!”

“Mr. Felter, sir, I only meant that I thought you must be mistaken.” Caught between the terror of the large man standing over them, and the hurt of Joshua’s words, Timmy looked up at Barnabus, his voice now a quavering whisper. “It’s not true, is it Sir? Governor Bromn isn’t dead…is he?”

Barnabus was a bit taken aback by the child’s question. He had indeed passed the story that he had heard at the inn to his wife Sarah. He had no idea that Joshua had overheard him. Large caramel eyes shone softly as he smiled at the two boys, offering a gloved hand to each to pull them up from the snowy street.

“It is a story that folks have been spreading about. No one has found a body or anything, but it is a possibility we have to consider. Governor Bromn has been gone a very long time, after all. Regardless of whether the man is dead or not, that is not reason enough for the two of you to be fighting. Now, Joshua, apologize.”

Joshua’s mouth fell open, the color racing back to his face. As he was about to raise his voice in protest, Timothy stepped forward, hand extended.

“I’m sorry, Joshua. I shouldn’t have said that about your dad. It was wrong of me.”

Joshua, having been one-upped by his friend, had no recourse but to accept graciously and apologize himself.

“It’s okay, Timmy. I was pretty mean too.”

“There now. Run along to the Inn, I am sure Pasha will get you some nice hot chocolate.”

Barnabus placed two coins in Joshua’s hand, sending the two boys on their way, before he turned to make his way back home. This needed to be discussed. Perhaps Sarah would have some idea of what they would tell the boys when they did indeed find the body of the once governor.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

“Dead? I’m bloody dead? Missing, fine. Run away, certainly. Dead…hmmm. I hadn’t considered that they would think such a thing. Rumors do get started in this town don’t they? “

Huddled in an alley, not far from the square proper, not far at all, he sat. His once regal coat of smooth grey fur looked more as if he had skinned it from a long dead wolf. The tips of his gloves had long since worn away, leaving his jagged nails jutting from the holes. No hat covered his head, he really didn’t need one, as matted and clumped as his once glorious hair had become. His worn violet socks showed through the myriad of holes worn in his favorite pair of boots.

Roughly a month had passed since he had come back. Fearing what the others would say, he had hidden in abandoned doorways, drain pipes, barns. Wherever he could find a safe place. Hiding day and night, after his near exposure by Treadwell. Altias could not bear the idea of anyone seeing him like this. Soon enough the demon would leave him…one way or another. And then, maybe the rumors would be true after all.

Another series of horrible spasms passed through his body. His fragile looking frame straightening against the wall, the monstrous lump in his belly jutting forward even within the enormous coat. A fit of coughing struck him back down to the pile of discarded blankets on which he had been sitting. If the creature within him did not kill him, the cold would…soon enough.

[Khalika]

Two boys, where standing somewhere in the streets of Myrken, one was a Stable boy from the Broken dagger. Though he looked to be a bit better of then the other who held the same job. The other?..a bit taller perhaps a touch older...also pretty clean, well clothed...they spoke....trading secrets and tales...it is quite amazing what people will say, even when a child is present...as if they believe the child would not care..of course most don't...but these two are a bit different...The stable hand hands off a small pouch to the other boy..with a smile before he heads off...


There are some new operations...businesses if you will, that have opened in Myrken. Not much fan fair announced there openings...mainly because the proprietor doesn't enjoy unwanted attention laid upon her...But through word of mouth it will be known, the a boarding house with a stable and smithy have opened on the far side of town...opposing the side of town that would lead to the Dagger...It is not a very large operation....but it is all incorperating for travelers...horses can be housed or bought...all things to do with the up keep of the beast can be taken care of at the stable itself... The Boardering house is also fully functional...catering though it seems mainly to roamers...Gypsies and those like their kind....Its owner?...Well its never said quite out loud...but one thing is for sure...The Gypsy known as Khalika Quiller has a lot to do with it...

Speaking of....there she sits...in one of the main floor rooms in the back...the only one to have two entrances...one from the inside of the building and one that leads outside...the Stable boy..makes his way in through that back entrance..handing off a peice of parchment...she sets it on the table...they speak for a few moments...him relaying everything and anything he may have heard or discovered....a few things had her brow perking..or a smile pulling upon her face...

"Well....seems things around here are not as quiet as they seem..."

she tosses a small pouch to the boy...with a brush of his hair....

"You make sure you family gets some of that..I don't want you dipping into another game...you're too young to gamble..even if you're good at it.."

The boy chuckled, and nodded...though the talk of a game, had him pause..something else was remembered...then passed onto her...she only nodded and shrugged...

"These are hard times...its not to unheard of for a few vagrants to be lurking around the streets....but make a note when and where you happen to see him next.."

another pat on his head, as she was standing...

"now off to work with you...can't have you getting into trouble with Pritchard.."

The boy laughed, tucked his earnings in his belt and was heading off...for a 11 year old who she caught trying to steal from her one night....he was turning out to be one of her best employees...