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I adjust my helm as the Fate Finisher sails along the coast toward the inlet where the three ships are claimed to be held. Spies deal in deceit and tricks so trusting the word of an enemy spy never comes easy. Even if there aren’t any ships it’ll still be a fight. I’m happy to kill Grimward warriors either way. Around me our Viknar adjust their armor and ready their weapons. They’ve fought hard these last weeks and yet they remain ready and willing to fight. I couldn’t be prouder. On either side of the ship the crew man their stations at the oars joined by a handful of Sundvik sailors. Pulling their mighty vessel with heavy strokes and open sail. They are no calm water men and women and they have been armed and trained to defend this longship with their lives. Still, I fear I have sent them to their deaths as we follow the coast further north.

Thrand made the battle plans for this raid. He’s far better at naval matters than I am so I’m happy to let him take the lead. Between coordinating our efforts in this war and keeping our affairs back home in order I’m glad my only part in this is ground command. We spot the ships as we round the southern corner of the entrance. We make no effort to hide our approach. Thrand rends the rhythmic sound of the tide with a blast from a war horn. A long sonorous howl erupts from the instrument as several dozen Grimward arm themselves to meet us.

“We are the storm!” I roar. Our band replies in kind with their own chorus of roars and battle cries as Thrand banks the ship to position the starboard side of this ship facing the beach.

“Landfall!!!” The shared command from the ground element breaks over the cacophony of commands and shouts from the defending Grimward. As one we leap from our longship and crash into the thigh deep tide with fury. Arrows and spears whistle past and into us as we rush toward our foe. I hear cries of pain and muttered curses as they find their mark. To our left a second warpack of grimward raiders move to a longship to try and hold off Thrand and the sailors as they begin their task of freeing our stolen ships. I refocus and rush forward with the Viknar, Valla and Lillith close behind. Our enemy meets us with a skirmish line, half their force appears to be hunters and scouts. Lighter armor but riddling our line with arrow fire. In the center a well armed and armored woman leads the formation, barking commands before all order is lost in the organized chaos. She leads well, but I’ve brought the greatest killers of my clan to bear and we hunger for blood.

We form our own shield wall, tighter as we need no openings for archers. And crash into their line, the surf quickly fills with blood and Grimward bodies. Their archers rip into our line, punishing our every misstep. But their hunters and scouts are no match for the caliber of warrior that is the Stormjarl Viknar. Try as they might, they can’t withstand our assault. I move toward the left side of our line. I glimpse Valla raining down blows in a practiced flurry of heavy handed strikes shattering shields and bodies as she and Lillith press into the fray. Lilith’s shield is full of arrows and her sword flashes out pouring more Grimward blood into the sand with each strike. I look to the ships, prepared to redirect now that we’ve pushed onto the beach. I’m greeted by the sights and sounds of slaughter as the other warpack tries and fails to hold off Thrand and the crew from capturing the ships. The water surrounding the two ships is full of blood and bodies. The deck of the Fate Finisher is a maw of axes and spears. Thrand leads the fight with practiced efficiency giving commands between bouts of swift strikes with his long axe. Durnir and Saga stand amongst the crew. Having some experience in sailing Thrand figured he’d do well on the ship and she would do well helping defend with her spear. They prove him right as he and Saga spear and hack into any foe foolish enough to try and board our drakkar.

A horn bellows from the Grimward line as their leader now sporting a fresh gash through her armored shoulder calls for a reforming of the line. We give them no mercy, hacking into them as they flee. I’m more in my element in the attack. I’ve weathered enough punishment, it’s my turn to punish them. I’m a flow of metal and fury. All the world fades as I face any still willing to stand against me and my warriors. I slash and thrust through armor and flesh howling my savage song with every kill. Swift blocks and parries turn into crushing counters as I deal death to the men and women who bring my people war. In minutes I’m a mess of gore. Drunk on the glory.

“Bryech, Get out of there!” Thrand yells out over the battle. I turn and see the Sundvik sailors casting off. Having used their deft hands and sailing skill to get two of the ships ready to move. I hate to leave the third but we’re already stretched thin as it is. Push too far and we risk far more than bruised pride.

“Break contact, back to the ships!” I roar. We usually preach a coordinated retreat but we knew this was probably going to be a hasty getaway. Our warpack breaks ranks covering themselves as they scramble back to the Fate Finisher and the other two ships. Viknar rush to man the oars of the reclaimed longships and quickly set them back toward the coast. Arrows fly behind us trying futilely to stop us from our mission. No such luck for them. The water is cold as I climb the side of our drakkar. Not so cold I don’t feel the sting of an arrow punch into my body. I scream in pain as Thrand hauls me over the edge. We land with a thud on the deck as he pulls me from the danger.

“What happened?” Thrand asks. As he steadies himself.

“I got shot in the ass!” I respond. Wincing at the pain in my right buttock. Thrand looks at the wound and laughs. Through the pain I join him and so does much of the crew as we move back to the sea and arrows rain into the waters of the inlet. With Thrand’s help I remove the arrow and limp my way to the bow. Taking stock of the other ships I’m flooded with relief as we account for all of our warriors. No one came away unscathed though as everyone sports fresh wounds. Arrows riddle our Viknar, but they stand proud. Hooting and hollering their victory over our foe. I let out my own howl as we make our way back to Sundvik.

The people of Sundvik cheer at our approach and they flood the longship docks to welcome their people back to safety. Loved ones greet their sailors and the people praise us as we disembark. All of us limp to the great hall, which has been turned into a temporary barracks to house all the warriors and adventurers who come to help fight. Wounded men and women fill the beds. Most of them from neighboring settlements that fell to the swift raids of Grimward in the opening days of this war.

I move to the area set aside for the healers to ask for Ylva’s help patching us up.

“Ylva, you’re gonna love this.” I say before stopping dead in my tracks. She’s asleep, curled up on a cot holding the spare tunic for Toralf she’s carried with her since we left Ulvesal. She holds it like a child would their first blanket. And I can see it’s stained with tears. She has cared for the people of Sundvik and the surrounding villages body and soul. I know she’s as exhausted as the rest of us and her grief saps even more of her strength. I turn back into the hall to find one of the new healers she has trained. They could use the practice.

After partaking in good wine and fun while at the Itir Celebration in Lumiria, Artemis returns home to prepare a new batch of wine and a new low alcoholic concoction called Kombucha.  After many months of practicing fermentation, he has started to become a master of fermentation.  He’s started off small at first.  He started out with making bread.  A process in which you use the organism yeast from flour and let it rise to create dough.  Then you bake it in an oven and boom, you have created bread.  It is an artform that he has honed over many years, and it is a quite calming process.  Kneading dough, shaping it, measuring ingredients, adding cheese, these are all things that are calming and bring him peace.  Then he discovered the art of pickling.  Started with cucumbers and letting it sit in a brine made of vinegar and spices and over time it would change and create pickles.  Same process is done with cabbage and sausage.  He then would progress to making his own sausages and drying them to become jerky.  Then finally, he would progress into his most profitable and easiest craft, wine.  All of this to say that Artemis is a master at his craft and what he does in the kitchen is an art.  Which makes what happens next more tragic.  

The day was June 22 273, only days after the Itir Celebration.  It was very stormy that night and lighting was close.  Artemis had only just come home to his homestead and was drinking his latest batch of black berry wine, remembering his fallen comrades at this most recent fight with the Grimward.  He was also reminiscing about his fallen friend Vaels Watetash the Alpha Slayer.  He then began to go into a deep meditative sleep after what looked like two or three bottles of wine.  That’s when the tragedy struck.  Lightning struck his homestead causing a small spark and embers.  No one stirred as the storm was quite loud and no one knew a fire began to start.  It wasn’t until the stench of the smoke began wafting into an open window did Artemis begin to wake.  In his state, he at first attributed the smell to a bonfire.  It wasn’t until he was fully awake did he realize what was going on.  There was no bonfire outside, it was still raining.  He quickly got his family awake to check what was going on.  That’s when others were awake as well, watching.  The roof was on fire.  The fire had been much too strong to fight on hand so individuals did what they could to lessen the damage and move things that were around the home away.  That’s when Artemis realized his animals were still inside.  He rushed in grabbing a cloth to fight the smoke and he was able to save his small lizard Draco and his feline cat.  Artemis, Maretheris, and Naxala watched in silence as their home burned. 

After many hours, the fire subsided, but the smell of smoke will forever be burned into Artemis’s memory.  He had sent Maretheris and Naxala to a friend nearby home while Artemis investigated what could be salvaged.   He was able to find a few trinkets and some clothing for Maretheris but the deeper he went into the wreckage the more that was lost.  Artemis had lost, everything.  What was interesting though, it was only most of his things that was unsalvageable.  Was this an act of a god?  Did he slight a god an anyway that they targeted him?  Was it only a coincidence that a Temple of Arnath was just finished?  Or was this an act from a different god?  Khruki perhaps?  

Artemis was able to recover his personal notes but anything about his father was lost.  The Weaver mat he was given by his father as his last thing that was left.  The Enchanter’s mat Artemis made from an old cloak his father wore.  Even the outfit his father was seen in, gone.  One thing did remain, the Helm Azureal Talonflame wore when he became Guardian of the Wolfgang tribe.  That relic remained.  Coincidence?  He thought not.  

Ingredients

2 spoonsful of buttermilk

(Vinegar, juice of a lemon, and cream of tartar)

2 spoons of sugar

A cup of warm water

3 or 4 cups of flour

An egg

Pinch of salt and pepper

2 bits of any herbs

Lots of cheese

A clove of garlic, minced

Some butter

1 egg

Directions 

Whisk the water, sugar, and a bit of flour together and let sit for about five to ten minutes.

Add the butter, egg, and seasonings and only one cup of flour and mix to combine.

Now add the rest of the flour to the bowl and make sure you have a bit of flour and water nearby.

Now Knead the dough into a soft ball and let rise for a few hours in a well-oiled and covered bowl.

Go ahead and grease a bread loaf pan.

Once doubled in size, lay out the dough on your worktop and roll it out flat.

Add cheese to cover the flat dough, more cheese is always better. 

Now roll the dough into a log that’s about arm length.

With a sharp knife cut the log in half lengthwise but leave a bit at the end.  

We are going to crisscross the dough all the way down.  

Now put that dough into the pan and let rise again for thirty minutes or so.

During this time make sure your oven is hot. You want it HOT.

Whisk melted butter and herbs and brush your dough and add some cheese to some of the pockets.

Now put that bun in the oven for about fourth five minutes to an hour. Check it often; you don’t want this to burn.

Once golden brown its ready to serve and eat!

The current year is 214 of the Commonality Calendar. War has ravaged the continent of Faedrun for 15 years. The Syndar Kingdoms, devastated by war and taking the brunt of the initial undead forces, have continued their retreat further north into their territories. Some kingdoms have abandoned their lands and consolidated forces as the undead plague and penitent followers continue to push into the heart of Faedrun. The Grand Alliance is made up of a number of Human and Syndar kingdoms and has stood together for the last 9 years. With its strengths come weaknesses as the different military forces and their leaders continue to try to work together as a cohesive force. The first few years had been costly, but by now enough time has passed that the Grand Alliance has been working together quite well… but the war on Faedrun is beyond the scope of anything anybody had ever imagined.

One of the military forces deployed to the Grand Alliance is the Mushalee Boluk, a “company” of soldiers under the command of the current ranking commander, the Boluk-Bashi. This specialized military unit is made up of soldiers and support personnel that are sent to deal with undead forces that have been able to cross the searing heat of the desert of the May’Kar Dominion. Previously, a large battle was fought after an anomaly had been found in one of the Oasis locations of the May’Kar dominion; a village that was built over a crypt that held the corpses of influential people local to the area. This magical presence was sought after by the Penitent and Undead forces, but was controlled and cleansed entirely with divine energy. Immediately after, the fighting had died down and the Boluk’s forces were stationed in the Oasis as a garrison.

Since then, reinforcements have arrived from the Grand Alliance as squads of front-line soldiers from the Kingdom of Vandregon as well as magic specialists of the various Syndar Kingdoms. Only a year ago, a military campaign was coordinated by the Mushalee Boluk’s soldiers and their allies to face off against the enemy Penitent and Undead forces in the area. Several powerful Undead leaders were fought against, guaranteeing the scouting reports that the enemy is moving in earnest into the Oasis. After many missions and several grueling front-line battles, the Mushalee Boluk was able to drive back their enemies. With plenty of territory still under the control of Penitent and Undead forces, the several months of respite are bittersweet as enemy forces entrench themselves firmly in the outskirts of the Oasis. It seems that the banners will march to war again soon.

UPDATE

The Grand Alliance continued to fight back the Undead and Penitent forces throughout the Oasis. A greater undead woman cried out for a lost child – raising fallen soldiers and penitent as undead everywhere she went. The Death Knight and Banshee previously seen in the area returned again to torment the Grand Alliance. Cult of Anguish Blood Mages swarmed in droves, still searching for something in the area the Grand Alliance scholars couldn’t decipher. In the quiet hours of the night, the Penitent found their goal alongside several Greater Undead. The Vandregonian Phalanx rushed to stop them, but their ritual had already been completed when they arrived. From the ground rose another Undead – the self-proclaimed “Queen in Crimson”. The Phalanx returned to the Grand Alliance camp risen as undead by this new foe.

The following battles proved even more harrowing. The new “Queen In Crimson” declared all the Undead present to be her “Crimson Court” and seemed to command them in battle. Her magic combined with the present Wraith caused every Penitent soldier to rise as undead after being struck down. Attempts at negotiations from the Grand Alliance were met with what seems to be the only language the Undead and Penitent understand – violence and blood. Despite it all, the Grand Alliance held their position in the Oasis. Continuing the fight against the Undead Plague will continue in the area despite the new, unknown threat.

May 273

Aina had been temporarily settled in Newhope territory, collecting ballads and folklore from various colonists, when she caught word of the calamitous Moot. Separated from her ancestral land, as well as from the supporting Shattered Spear and Goldenfield clans, she chose to join the most pressing efforts – requiring a perilous trip into Stormjarl territory. Aina found herself nearly frozen in terror as her travel group was pursued; memories of her ineffectiveness at Riverhead flooded her body and mind. She arrived in the camp wide-eyed and disoriented. She gathered herself quickly enough and set to work with her music. Over the years, she had heard tales of some of Stormjarl’s most renowned members. She endeavored to bring comfort and vigor to their efforts in this new war.

Below are some relevant snippets from her Bard book.

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“Ballad of the Unyielding”

I sing a tale of Ulven betrayed,

Of terror and if our steelèd resolves,

We began war after losses that day,

But this lament, it is for Toralf.

It started at a gathering of clans,

Called in the season of clouds and chill,

To discuss concerns across all our lands,

As we kept our cups and our bowls filled.

[Chorus:]

Toralf of the Stormjarl Clan,

Last seen as he was shielding,

Rages better than any man,

O where is Toralf the Unyielding?

Rival clans, they were swiftly hard pressed

In tensions over a false Grimward’s spear,

Then with mostly one weapon per guest,

All there gathered to lend an ear.

The jarls spoke about strife and of aid,

Of holding fast against Mordok hoards,

When came up the matter of recent raids,

With flying banners of clan Grimward.

[Chorus]

As the leaders engaged in their talks,

Our hero tended the communal flames,

Suddenly the Grimwards pulled out a box,

And began to stake a new claim.

They revealed that their hearts had rotten to black,

As they ordered parting of the fabric red,

The crowd led out hushèd growls and gasps,

As out came Hagreth’s severed head.

[Chorus]

The Traitors dragged forth a hooded man,

“Branthur Nightriver,” they proudly teased.

He was forced to state his name and his clan,

Then harshly dispatched on his knees.

They commanded all to hold back their steel,

To make their choice to surrender or flee,

Our hero, he stood back despite his zeal,

And braced to keep his people free.

[Chorus]

Toralf is renowned for many bold feats,

Twice he’s been badly maimèd before,

For he would never accept defeat,

Even in the face of death bolts.

So, at the hour of the moot’s ill fate,

Among the strongest was he fielded,

Assigned to protect his people’s escape,

With handforgèd arms that he wielded.

[Chorus]

He endured all that he could of their blows,

His heart swelling with valiant rage,

The damage put him down into final throes,

Then he leapt to his feet in a rampage.

He bled as he blindly swung through his surge,

Berserking as the man who never yields,

But in his weakened state, he was captured,

And his fate remains yet unsealed.

[Chorus]

——————————————————————————————————————————

Ylva’s Hymn

Ylva, Lifemender, of Stormjarl,

O Master of salves,

Keeper of burdens and life threads,

Healer of Mardrun,

cleanser of corruption & ills,

May Gaia

ease your path.

Ylva, Lifemender, cutter away,

O Redeemer of the war-pained,

You of gentle touch and strong will,

Healer of Mardrun,

cleanser of corruption & ills,

May the Great Wolf

sing your name.

Ylva, Lifemender, skill-teacher,

O Weaver of spirit,

Hands of blood-red and ink-stain,

Healer of Mardrun,

cleanser of corruption & ills,

May we wash

your hands in turn.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Bryech the Untouchable

In the Ulven’s war-frought story,

Our hero he survives,

Bathed in the hard-won glory,

On battlefields he thrives.

Survivor of the Battle of Blackwolf Creek

In the lands to the North,

There the woods called to be cleared,

So the peoples chose their heroes,

Among the most revered.

Honored Few of the Great Wolf’s hunt

And Survivor of the Battle of Blackwolf Creek

On these newly hallowed grounds,

Lay the stronghold of the wolves,

Manned with bands of clanless warriors,

Led by the fierce and bold:

Former Longfang Weaponmaster

Honored Few of the Great Wolf’s hunt

And Survivor of the Battle of Blackwolf Creek

With his allies in war,

He leapt from warships beaching,

Saved Stormjarls’ twenty four

And held lines against all breaching.

Shield of the Viknar,

Former Longfang Weaponmaster

Honored Few of the Great Wolf’s hunt

And Survivor of the Battle of Blackwolf Creek

When packs began to splinter,

The Aettinjav was planned,

That day he fought unhindered,

And remained the last to stand.

Victor of the Maw,

Shield of the Viknar,

Former Longfang Weaponmaster

Honored Few of the Great Wolf’s hunt

And Survivor of the Battle of Blackwolf Creek

At cursèd Silfurfal,

The Mordok burned and pillaged,

til Bryech maimed and mauled

The largest one in that mad village.

O Alpha Slayer,

Victor of the Maw,

Shield of the Viknar,

Former Longfang Weaponmaster

Honored Few of the Great Wolf’s hunt

And Survivor of the Battle of Blackwolf Creek

“Should this man not be dead?”

Ask the foes who fear his blade,

Yet with piercing eyes of red

He still fights wholely unscathed.

The Untouchable

O Alpha Slayer,

Victor of the Maw,

Shield of the Viknar,

Former Longfang Weaponmaster

Honored Few of the Great Wolf’s hunt

And Survivor of the Battle of Blackwolf Creek

Bryech of Word Fame*,

May the Great Wolf know your names

The Untouchable

O Alpha Slayer,

Victor of the Maw,

Shield of the Viknar,

Former Longfang Weaponmaster

Honored Few of the Great Wolf’s hunt

And Survivor of the Battle of Blackwolf Creek

*Note: An alternate lyric here could be “Bryech the Treebane.” This captures an eighth frequently referenced honorific, after a battle incident involving the felling of several minor trees. While I have heard this title numerous times in my travels, it remains unclear to me whether this is an “official” honorific taken by Bryech himself.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Out-of-game Footnotes

1: Lyrics fully original. Melody is a lightly altered version of “Blome Swete Lilie Flour” by Daniel Hart for the movie The Green Knight.

2: Lyrics fully original. Melody is “St Birgitta Hymn” by Trio Mediæval.

3: Lyrics & melody fully original. Musically based on the (morbid) French nursery song “Alouette.”