A private letter to Giscard...

[Vanidor]

The following letter would arive, dispite the troubles and tribulations within the land, to the residence of Giscard Guillaume. The courier had the look of a grizzled soldier, indeed, a fresh scar screamed 'cross his face over the crest of his nose. Yet he spoke with an eloquent ease, raising the sealed packet to whomever would come to retrieve it. Word would be passed that it was for the Lord Guillaume's eyes only, and that he would wait without for any response.

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To: Giscard Guillaume, Lord of Lothbury Estate, Councilor of Commerce and Trade, Interim Governor of the Provience of Myrken Wood Ect.
From: Kerrak al'Nerun, Baron of Almark, Knight-Captain of the Order of the White Lion Ect.


May I begin with commending your desire to provide for the protection of your homeland. The hard decision you had to make upon the construction of the wall which now starts to surround the town, as well as the subsequent decision to take upon that seemingly accursed post is heartening. Perhaps some good still resides within the provience, then.

It has come to my attention, as well as the attention of others, that the defense of Myrken Wood seems to have fallen upon harder times. While I applaud the efforts of Captain Daniels and his Order, one could say that they are not getting the proper support they need from the council. As I have been rather busy in Thessilane of late, I have not had the chance to find reason why. But, I will be frank in saying, that I am not without my contacts within that locale.

Some have whispered that the man who calls himself the Marquis Al-D'arcu seems to be missing. Perhaps he is simply trapped within his home, or perhaps some event has kept him from his post. In either case, I would find that he is lacking in his duties. Despite the danger that walks your lands, a man who wishes to lead such a post as he has should be one of the first to stand besides your Order of Straka.

That being said, I am willing to enter into an agreement with you and others, as I am no longer under the aegis of the Duke. There are others as well, who find themselves without a post after the recent culling that has occured within the military of our former nation. I have, at my command, perhaps two score men who are veterans of the infernal city fighting that took place at Orvere this recent winter. They are at my disposal, and are seeking further employment.

If there were, perhaps, a way that I could assume this post that has been neglected, or one of new manufacture even. I could bring these men along and integrate them into the current standing members of the Order. From the recent letter you had writte to the other councilors and Captain Daniels, I know of your needs...

If you wish to speak further on this, I keep a room at the Cloaked Boar, in the township itself. The bartender will accept any messages you wish to send with the utmost secrecy.

Captain al'Nerun.

[Carnath-Emory]

There is little particularly noteworthy about the Estates, save for their size: a great sprawl of land, most of it sleeping still beneath a heavy blanket of snow. Still, there is a certain neatness to the area, even beneath winter's obscuring; a thin road winds through the center of it, wide enough for two horses to travel abreast, and its smooth pavement has been kept carefully free of snow. A steady thock of axes upon wood -- forests border the western portion of the holdings -- lends life to the area, and this may be comforting to the visitor, for while the landscape is dotted by small cottages, there's nothing to suggest that they might actually be inhabited.

Does the man have a veteran's keen senses? He might come to feel that he has been observed, through the whole of his trek down that winding road, and that his departure will be watched with similar closeness; a paranoic might theorise hidden archers, poisoned darts. Still, he is greeted with cool courtesy, mild pleasantry, when he reaches the manor's great iron gates. Ushered into a courtyard where twin bonfires war against the evening chill, he will find his wait to be a brief one.


I, Giscard Guillaume, Lord of Lothbury Estate, Interim Governor of the Myrken Wood Judiciary, etc.; to Kerrak al'Nerun, Baron of Almark, Knight-Captain of the Order of the White Lion etc. at the Cloaked Boar: Greetings.

I receive your commendations with gratitude, in accordance to your understanding of the circumstances in which Myrken Wood finds itself. Would that the situation were unique to this province; I offer my condolences on the loss of your shipyards, and personal congratulations upon your role in the pacifying of Orvere. These are, it seems, difficult times for us all.

Word travels swiftly, particularly during such strife as we have recently suffered, and I would advise you to heed it with a skeptical ear, for at present our good townspeople are prone to periods of alarm and malediction. No doubt you have already come to realise this; the esteemed Duke, I know well, employs no fools amongst his ranks. What might be less clear to Thessilane eyes is the relationship which we enjoy with the Order of Straka, which is to say that the Order and the Judiciary are quite seperate bodies, united by their dedication to the well-being of Myrken Wood and its particulars, and co-operating closely upon such matters.

As you doubtless see, your proposal is not one that I can answer in its entirety, for the Order remains the business of Captain Daniels, in all but its totality. Regarding those questions and matters which I am equipped to answer, however, you will find my internuncio awaiting you soon in the commons of the Broken Dagger, an inn with which I am assured you have some aquaintance. Arrangements shall be made to ensure all necessary privacy; accept its words as if they were my own.

Done by my hand at the Estate of Lothbury, this 6th day of February.

Giscard Guillaume.

[Vanidor]

The man would carry that message back, riding with his back straight and shoulders set as if they were planks. A proud one, that, and dispite his trepidation and feel of unease, he would display all that was to be found in a true man of the Thessilaneian military. And he would continue that poise up to and until he reached the Cloaked Boar.

Into the slightly run down building he would go, flashing a quick selection of fingers in the direction of the innkeeper. A slight nod, and the soldier would head into the kitchens. Through them and then down into the cold room beneath the building. And then through this, into a chamber set aside for private conversations.

"Captain. That place gives me the creeps." Said as he withdrew the letter and handed it over to his commander. "Felt like I was back up at the border 'gainst New Dauntless again, what with their ballistae ready to fling over and pierce us through." Kerrak accepted the report with little fanfare and broke the seal.

"Anything else to report, Lieutenant? Disposition, lay of the land..." And then he began to read. No, the Duke did not suffer fools for long. And to have remained in service for so long (and still in, for the truth to be known), and to have risen to such a post... Well. "You could ride a whole flight down the main road, sir. And swiftly at that, the land is wide from what I could see. Mind, I never left that main road. Feared that I might not have returned, you know. But it was clean. Not like some of these other farmsteads and landholdings we've passed through. Lord Giscard keeps a tight ship, though I could not say where his people were."

Kerrak nodded his head at this, listening whilst reading the missive returned to him. "And he is no fool, either, is this Lord Giscard. I can see why the Duke wants us to keep an eye on him. Gaining a post may be a bit harder than even he expected. Heh. He always thinks that simply by -being- a man of Thessilane things will fall our way... maybe for him, eh? Us simple folk must do what we can." Another moment of quiet, then a sheaf of paper was brought over.

"Lieutenant, I want you to go back there and inform the good Lord that I will enjoy a meeting with his intermediary, though I would more enjoy a meeting with him. Oh, and Jons. Try not to get killed, eh? You survived too much in Orvere to die here." At this, the scar-faced man grinned and departed.