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December 2022 – Raiders from the Sea

All across Mardrun the harvest season limps to a frigid close. Snow blankets the continent and the winter store houses latch shut, holding within the hoard of a year’s hard work.

Unfortunately, it seems that these increasingly sleepy villages are drawing the attention of outsiders. Longships bearing no colors or heraldry have been seen sailing up and down the eastern seaboard, some have even come further inland along the more navigable riverways. Memories of the unprovoked raid on the Village of Brattsholt earlier in the year has people on edge and soon Clan Leadership of the eastern clans have called forth their war parties to patrol the coastal villages.

Most of the villages feel safe with these roving patrols, but some of the more distant villages are worried that they will become easy targets if the official warpacks aren’t able to adequately stretch themselves to cover their location. To this end some of the villages have set out calls for martial aid to outside entities. One village known as Darkport, a smaller village made of Colonists and Ulven in the northeast of Clan Nightriver, has joined this chorus of aid requests. The local leadership has promised warm fires and eternal gratitude to any who are willing to come to lend their support. They are hopeful that if there are raiders on the waves that the presence of a defensive force will cause them to think twice about attacking.

Soon a great deal of support pours into the village and before long the area is a bustle of activity. A Nightriver Hersir has been dispatched to the area and soon The Village of Darkport finds itself acting as a staging ground from which support can be quickly mustered to the even smaller surrounding villages. As the month wears on, the people remain hopeful that no raids will come, but as the bitter chill of winter continues to settle in more and more people begin to think that any raiders in the area will start to set their eyes on one final score before returning home to ride out the winter months.


The hope for a quiet month was quickly shattered as a scout poured into Darkport warning of raiders taking to land and heading to a small village closer to the coast. A party mustered itself and marched to the village, but unfortunately arrived to late. As they came into view of the village they saw the defenseless civilians fall under the forceful blows of ax and sword. Some warriors rushed into battle with the raiders while the rest worked to build a formation. In the end only a very small number of villagers were able to escape.

The ire of the raiders turned to the approaching warriors and soon a pitched battle broke out. Though the defenders fought valiantly, they found themselves pushed back and eventually fell into a retreat back toward Darkport. The rest of the day found a series of skirmishes between the defenders of Darkport and the raiders in their countryside. Villages were sacked,as were some farm lands. By the end of the day though some of the plundered goods were able to recovered. Eventually the defenders mustered a large force and brought a decisive battle to the raiders. Though it was not enough to decimate their numbers, it did prove enough of a show of force to cause the invaders to take what loot they had managed to plunder and defend and return to their ships.

One strange occurrence was the appearance of a pair of the strange Syndar from the Outlands to the far north. They seemed to be studying the town and it’s defenders though surprisingly no one paid them much mind. One did end up briefly joining in the defense of the town and before nightfall they were both gone.

In the end the countryside around Darkport was dealt a heavy blow, but the bravery of the defenders in the face of a brutal foe helped keep the raiders from establishing a strong enough foothold to deal incredibly significant damage and eventually forced them into a retreat from the lands.

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October 2022 – The First Keg of the Harvest

The crisp air of Autumn settles over the continent of Mardrun and the collective peoples of the continent all seem to revel in the calmness of the harvest season. People work fields during the day and spend their evenings gossiping, laughing, and singing in their local alehouses and meaderies and in the lands of Clan Goldenfield, the village of Barleyrow taps the first keg of the season.

As has become their tradition, Barleyrow village, a well-oiled collective of colonists and Ulven alike, sends out wide reaching invitations to the people of Mardrun to come and gather in their village to drink their beer and share in their hearth and hospitality. In recent years Barleyrow has come to see itself as a shining beacon of what can be accomplished if people set aside their differences and lean on each other’s strengths and nothing is more emblematic of this camaraderie than their now famous Barleyrow Ale.

Soon people of all walks of life flock to the growing village, bringing with them trade and stories. Before long the roads are well worn leading into Barley Row village, but such is the nature of an attraction set far from any navigable waterways. As people travel into the area they are happy to see the roads well-guarded. It seems the head of the village is well aware of the recent raids that have peppered across the lands and has seen to it that no such interruptions will come for their prized gathering.

This season’s festivities in Barleyrow Village seem more than ready to live up to their newly minted village motto – Mirth, Hearth, and Ale


== Update ==

The day in Barleyrow Village started out rather sober with everyone gathering their merchandise and preparing it for a harvest festival and the tapping of the first keg of the season. After the keg was tapped, many began to loosen up and tell stories, buy supplies and merchandise, and have a jovial time. Songs began to fly from the tongues of bards, old traditions began to sneak their way into the festival, stories from Faedrun came from those who remembered them and wanted to share, and drink flowed almost freely among those in attendance for this harvest festival.

While there was much feasting, drinking and fun being had, that didn’t mean work wasn’t around for those who wished to assist the village or in using their craft to trap in the nearby woods. With the help of locals and visitors to the village, a decent portion of work that was outstanding was handled and allowed the festival to continue that much longer.

During the festivities an announcement about the scheduled execution of Celestial Arragones was delivered to those who were in attendance. The overall feeling of this choice was muttered in two camps, one thinking the punishment of execution fair and just, the other feeling it was far too much or far too little. However, the news did not sour or spoil the spirits of the festival. There were in fact many passing along a wreath and crown of leaves to designate them as the chosen of the festival. At the end of the Festival, the tradition ended with the wreath and crown being burned in the fire as a thank you to Gaia, the Great Wolf, and many other deities for the bountiful harvest.

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Name: Artemis, The Artificer “Art”

Played By: Alex Robinson

Age: Unknown

Race: Half-Syndar

Class: Mage

Birthplace: Vandregon

Relations: Naxala, Nataniel


My name is Artemis.  I am not my father.

My story begins as any other.  Born amid the Undead war and somehow survived.  Living amongst the brink of war.  My story is nothing special or at least it should not have been.

My mother would often regal me of the story of my birth father.  In her words,

“Your father was kind man.  A Syndar.  He had sharp teeth and quite long ears.  He was dark skinned, and he walked with just the most impressive swagger.  Confidence.  Poise.  A charmer for sure.  One day, after a successful sail about the sea, he and his friends came in for a drink.  Boy could your father pack them down.  As I was watching him, I was accosted by some random drunkards wanting my services.  They were grungy and had no class.  But work is work.  These men were quite rough with me and id charge extra for that, but I did not care for these men at all.  But then, your father stepped up, dashing man, beautiful beard.  He shoved the men out of the way as they were hurting me.  They fought but your father bested them even in his drunken state.  He then offered me a drink with him and paid for the time.  He didn’t even want pleasures of the flesh just my company and conversation.  What a fine man.”

As you see, my father was a charmer.  As my grandfather states, over time of his stay, they would hang out together quite often. Chatting about life and being plain good company.  From what I heard; he was the only one that gave my mother a rocking good time.  I didn’t know what that meant until I was in my teens.

I am here on Mardrun as I am a prodigy.  I have taken a keen understanding to all things magic and have a high magical aptitude.  I was to surpass my father and take on his role.  I do not want this position.  His daughter, Naxala, states otherwise.  It was because of her, I should be grateful to her, I am alive.  She felt a dream, a dream of a boy who would one day overtake Talonflame and surpass him.  He would have extreme mastery and Practicality of Magic.  All Magic.  Her dream saw my face and she has been tracking me down.  With the help of her father’s adviser Nathaniel.

After a time, I was born, and left in the care of my grandfather.  Mother wanted me to be comfortable, and she didn’t want me taken away either.  A baby born with magical knack would be sought after by not only my father and the state but also by the Penitent.  I had a very strong magical aptitude.  Think of me as a diamond in the rough or jack of all trades.  I was being sought after on three fronts.  One, The Penitant, rumors circled that they were recruiting in the area and if they knew of my magical knack they may try to capture and train me in the ways of either necromancy or blood magic, my aptitude could have done both.  Two, The State, as the battles on Faedrun battered our lines there was concern that they would’ve grabbed me a trained me as an Arcane Front-line warrior, a Battle Magus.  Three, my father, he would want me for my extreme skill and dashing good looks.  She didn’t want me to get in the wrong hands, so off to my grandfather I went.    A lot of my time was spent reading and learning stories.  A chunk of time was spent in my grandfather’s forge.  Mostly fetching water and coals.  He has the task of helping arm Vandragon with steel.

In my studies, I had a bully, like many other book-learned of my time.  Except this bully, took things too far.  I was teen when things went off.  I was working diligently on a new project; I was trying to boil water without the use of raw fire or coal.  Trying to create a chemical fire much like oil.  Liquid fire if you will.  But then my bully knocked all my chemicals off my table.  Spat in my face and called me a worm.  But what put him over the edge, was today, he wanted to talk about half breed heritage.  He even called my father names.  Talked il about my mother too, saying I’m a son of a Bitch.  True but uncalled for.  That sent me over the edge.  Blood was rushing to my ears so I could not hear what he was saying.  That’s when I blacked out.  Witness accounts stated I ran at him with the force of a tiger and punched his face in.  That’s not all though.  I also used magics from my hands to launch him in the air and his body landed with a sickening crack.  A rudimentary push spell but you get the idea.  He was disfigured and very dead.  I was out for like a week after.  Its stated, that during that time, a secondary female bully took over and, had her way with me.  Taking advantage of my already bloodlust state.  I had hoped id find her before I left, show her a piece of my mind.

Either way, from then on, I was home schooled.  All my books were ordered, and I never left the house.  Though word already got out of my magical talents.  Grandpa would get visitors and scholars wanting to take and teach me, hone my skills.  Grandpa would have none of it and shoed them away.  Then he met a Syndar man.  He just was chatting about, blacksmithing.  But he was keeping an eye on me as well.  Then he left.  No mess, no nothing.  Just chatter.

Over time I got older and was allowed out very briefly to wander.  But my wandering days did not last long.  It was at this time my village was being attacked.  By undead no less, and a scream. The most terrifying scream I have ever heard.  A scream that still haunts me till this day.  The scream, of a Banshee. It was coming for me.  To make me one of her thralls.  That’s when that man from before came back and snatched me away from my village.  No fuss, no mess.  Maybe even an ice bolt of two.  As I dethawed I watched as my village was torn to pieces only thing left, was the fire from my grandfather’s forge still burning.

It was then, I was locked away yet again like a fairytale princess.  Forced to read and read and read.  Training in a small locked away part of a ship.  Hidden like a sack potatoes.  Once I was on land, I was not allowed to leave.  I read and I trained.  Over time, I was taken to what I guess is a small town.  I was to not run, only study.  Or else I get the ice bolt.  Thanks to my captivity, my intelligence may have grown but my mannerisms not so much.  Time felt like an illusion.

Naxala, was trained in Divine magics, Nathaniel in Arcane.  Together they trained me on fundamentals.  I read this, Vazra’s, old worksheets.  I was taught the ways of Khruki, Lord of Darkness.  Over an over again.  Not sure how long has passed since.  Don’t really care.  It was only recently that I was gained any amount of freedom.  Albeit due to the disappearance my father Talonflame.  People always told me he loved to chase tails.  In that time, I have unlocked the mysteries of wielding both Divine and Arcane power.  Not an easy feat mind you.  Also, in my father’s footsteps, I have unlocked the potential to understand the mysteries of the weave.  Again, I am not my father.

“I am something far stronger.”

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November 271 – News and Rumors

A crispness holds in the air as people continue their work bringing in the year’s harvests. As the nights come earlier in the day more and more people move inside to spend their evenings within the shared warmth of taverns and mead halls. With proximity comes chatter and with chatter comes the spread of News and Rumors.


A shocking piece of news quickly makes the rounds throughout City-state territories and it’s not long before it erupts beyond the borders and spreads over the continent. All had heard the news that Arragones was set to be hanged in a public execution, some had even begun planning their travels to make sure to be there to see the highest profile execution of an era, but what came next was a shock. Arragones was found dead in her cell. Details are hard to come by as at this point rumors have taken a firm hold, but what can be ascertained is that she was found clutching a glass vial with a soft-green foam leaking from the corner of her mouth. No one is certain how she managed to come to possess such a poison. Some believe that another member of the council must have brought it to her and given her the chance to accept a graceful death in exchange for her keeping her mouth shut about any scandalous information she may have on them. Others believe that one of Arragones’ own supporters must have brought her the poison to spare her the spectacle of a public execution. And some even believe that it was staged all together and that she did not drink the poison by her own volition, but was instead murdered and set up to look like a suicide. With these ideas, and many other traveling stories and theories, no one is entirely sure what happened. Regardless of the details, the truth remains that weeks ahead of her public execution, Celestial Arragones was found dead in her cell from an apparent poisoning.


The recent rumors of wights stalking through the landscape has shaken the core of some of the Ulven people, especially those living in more remote areas. A few Nightriver villages bordering The Great Wolf’s Hackles have resurrected an ancient Ulven practice of leaving offerings for the Nature Wights to insulate themselves from the harsh conditions that often follow in their wake. A young Nightriver villager recently set out on a journey to the top of The Hackles to leave an offering of mead and bread for the wights and was surprised to find that he was not the only one that had made this journey in recent time. He came home and told his friends and family that when he summited the mountain he found that there were already offerings left, and fresh ones at that. He made sure to add his offerings to the pile. The people of his village were surprised to hear that they weren’t the first to send someone up the mountain and given their location they assume that the other offerings must have come from a Grimward or Ironmound village on the other side of the mountain range. It seems that in the more remote areas of Mardrun that some of the Ulven people are embracing the traditions of their old ways and these traditions may be spreading.


ANOTHER massive turnip! Rumors have blanketed across Clan Goldenfield territory and spread from there of another village unearthing a humongous turnip! Some say that this turnip rivals that which was dug up in another village recently. People flocked from nearby towns to peek a gander at this marvelous vegetable, but faster than the news of its harvest spread, so spread the news of its deceit. Though truly a splendid specimen and while it was a well and enormous root, it turns out that the farmer lied. This was not a turnip set to rival all others. This was, in fact, a radish. 

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The Calavera


The Calavera lived like many other Syndar did on Faedrun. They traveled and visited other places as often as they liked. They made friends with outside Syndar often enough that more than a few funerals had non-Calavera guests as well. These guests got to witness El Falleciemiento, the Ceremony of Death, where the Elders of the Calavera would return the dead’s mana back to the stream. Friends of Calavera would also be invited to their yearly month-long festival, Dia de Difuntos.



The Calavera were always a relatively small group compared to other Syndar groups. Procreation was never a big priority for them until coming to Mardrun. There was very limited space on the ships that came over, so they prioritized sending young Syndar and the Elders who could perform the Ceremony of Death (El Falleciemiento). Some parents chose to send their children without them, trusting the other young adult Syndar to take care of them. Splitting up families this way was incredibly hard for them as family and ancestry are very important to the Calavera.



The Calavera followed the Phoenix when looking for a location, but parted ways after the Phoenix settled on the Fire Isle. They continued along the coast until they came across another, smaller island that was easier to reach. Their small population has allowed them to stick to the center of the island, only coming to the coasts to bring in fish for food. Not many of them have left the island since the group settled there. Most of the contact they’ve had with the rest of Mardrun has been the raiders they do their best to avoid.



This form of religion and prayer was originally a coping mechanism for mourning dead syndar. As mana gets pulled from the dead syndar, they thought they might be able to reconnect to their spirits through the mana stream. This method of coping gave syndar a reason to celebrate rather than mourn. Syndar who were deeply depressed by the passing of a loved one could find comfort in believing they could meet again. Leaving offerings and shining a light to lead them home offered peace of mind and closure. This has also led to them being very family oriented.



The Calavera meditate at their worship altars. Alters can be as intricate and grand, or as simple and small as one pleases. Altars typically have offerings like bread, sweets, and wine. If any syndar should be lucky enough to have a drawing or a painting of a loved one, it should be included in their altar. Some even go as far as constructing a doll to resemble a loved one. Altars can change throughout the day. In the morning or before evening time, offerings are geared towards children (sweets, juice), while by evening time altars usually hold adult oriented offerings (wine, breads). It is believed that the god Solar brings the sun and wakes the spirits of the children every morning to allow them to roam freely. At night, the goddess Lunara brings the night, putting the children to bed and making way for the adults to come. Flowers and candles are typically used as decorations for their altars. It is their belief that flower petals are beacons that can lead the spirits of dead loved ones to their prayer altar, so that they might visit them through the mana stream. Many of these syndar leave trails of flower petals from a place of rest to their home as a way of lighting the path back to them so that a spirit won’t get lost. 



The Calavera enjoy colorfully embroidered flowers, gold tassels, and soft furs. As most io’Larian have one animal they appreciate more than others, they tend to wear the fur of that animal as accent pieces. Face paint is required. A beautifully intricate skull is the Calavera’s traditional design, but each individual does their own style. Most describe it as, “the face of a spirit I see in my dreams.” Calavera syndar will fully paint their face, wear flowers in their hair or weave it into their clothes, and wear beautifully embroidered clothes. Syndar who choose not to wear face paint will wear head kerchiefs or completely veil their face.



Lawful marriages are uncommon among the Calavera. They do, however, have joining ceremonies. When these io’Larian syndar believe they want to spend the rest of their long lives by each other’s side, they dress in their finest clothes, build a grand altar together, paint each other’s faces as intricately as possible, transfer mana between each other, and meditate together. When they finish meditating, the party begins. Eating sweets, drinking wine, and just having fun, all to represent how they wish to live their lives together.

Coming of age isn’t a strict year or growth point, but when their parents/elders believe that they are ready. Usually fairly young children will be sat down, a crown of orange flowers placed on their head, and their face painted like the spirits they see in their dreams. Once it’s finished, they are allowed to build their own altar and place their own offerings freely. Building your first altar is an exciting and joyous occasion.



Many of the Calavera are bards. Music is another tool used to celebrate rather than mourn. Happy songs can lift the lowest spirits, and through music, they have raised each other up enough to celebrate the lives that have been lived rather than mourning every death. It’s also common to be a herbalist because of how commonplace the use of flowers and flower petals is.



Every year in early November, the holiday Dia de Difuntos takes place. The festival starts with a parade full of music and people in costumes dressed as skeletons. Sweets are given out along with drinks and common fair food. People are encouraged to throw flower petals amongst the crowd while the parade is marching. 

After the parade, there is time to go home with your family and gather your altars. Everyone brings their altar to the town square and sets them up along the walls of the square as intricately as possible, with food and wines and more flowers as offerings to the adult spirits at night. Most will choose to meditate at their altar until everyone is finished and the party can begin. Musicians will play while everyone celebrates the life of those they lost, telling stories of their loved ones and dancing among their family and friends. For most of these Syndar, the party will go well into the night, usually until the sun comes up. This is when the altars will change to be filled with sweet bread and juice and candies as offerings to the children spirits who will come in the morning. Most will choose to meditate again before heading home, leaving their altars in the town square. The altars will stay there until that evening when the families are rested enough to gather their things and take them back home. Many Calavera Syndar have planned an easy-to-carry altar for this celebration. 

Back on Faedrun, this festival was all month long. Invited visitors were allowed to come and go as they pleased, but most would just come for the initial parade and first night of party. The Calavera have since lost the resources required to celebrate for that long, since they are now located on an island away from the main population and have not established any trade with the mainland, and also have a much smaller population themselves.


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September 271

A crispness settles into the air all across the continent of Mardrun. The very first of the leaves begin to change their colors and the harvest season is well and begun. Fall blankets the denizens of the land in her cool, refreshing embrace. But then somewhere on the eastern seaboard, someone accidentally knocks over a small ceramic pot, spilling tea all over their tablecloth. It’s News-and-Rumors, baby!


After her notoriously sloppy escape attempt, Celestial Arragones has been captured by Newhope forces and turned over to the Lictor Courts to stand trial. Many rumors swirl over the lands about what is going to happen to her. Many agree that she was likely looking at a stern rebuke and an escort back to her holdings prior to her attempts to raise an army and fight against her state. Now most agree that she is likely looking at charges of treason, though not all agree on what this could mean. Some say she could lose her head, others argue that the nobles on the Council would never eat one of their own like that and she’ll probably still escape with blood on her hands and a slap on the wrist. No one at this point knows what will happen, but there is no doubt that many eyes are resting on The Newhope Council.


Deep in The Hackles a story was born of a young Ulven hunter. That tale goes that she was stalking some prey through the wilderness when a heavy bout of hail struck that forced her to take cover in the hollow of a mighty oak tree. While she hunkered down she heard what she swears were the heavy footsteps of a large beast walking on two legs. She tried to poke her head out and get a good look, but was unable to see anything. Eventually the footsteps marched off into the woods away from her and soon after the hail eased and let up. She immediately ran back to her village and told everyone in the local meadhall. Most laughed at her, but some piped up to mention ancient Ulven tales of spirits and landwights bringing storms, hail, and forest fires. Did the echo of hail on the tree trunk cause this young hunter to imagine the sound of heavy footsteps, or has something called back the landwights that walked Mardrun in the eras before history.


News is slow in the small village of Brackenloft in Clan Goldenfield. In fact not many people even know it exists. Most maps don’t include it and those that do often find this little village mistaken for an accidental drop of ink. But this miniscule village has found its way to the forefront of the harvest season news. A farmer by the name of Harrod Mudfingers has risen to great acclaim for a feat unlike any seen before. This year Harrod managed to grow the most amazing turnip. People have flocked to the village to see this turnip, which is so large it could almost be hollowed out and turned into a hut! Harrod will stop and tell any who will listen of how it took him days to dig this turnip out of the ground and how it took a team of sixteen burly Ulven with ropes to pull it from its hole. If you want a chance to see this marvel of root-veg then make sure to take a trip out to Brackenloft!

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August 2022 – The Siege of the Celestial

As the excitement of last month’s market faire winds down, gossip continues about the City-State of Newhope’s proclamation. It seems that a major shift has taken place within the Council of Newhope, with Celestial Arragones being removed from her position. Skeptics have jumped at the chance to proclaim that this is a sign of greater instability within the City-State while others worry if influences, both inside and out, might try to take advantage of the situation against the City-State or the Council.

Eventually, news catches up on the next step of this unfolding drama; the City-State Council has made their intent known that there is a plan to detain Celestial Arragones and bring her in so that she may work through this situation in the City-State court system. This could become a large City-State effort and may end up requiring those that swear fealty to Newhope to be present or involved in some way.

Sources close to the council have said that Celestial Arragones has removed herself from the city proper due to feeling like the Council was “looking for a scapegoat” and is now residing in one of her outer estates. She has taken her most loyal followers with her, and it becomes clear rather quickly that the magical libraries she tended to within the city have been almost completely emptied. She has long proclaimed that these libraries are personal property of hers and until now there has been little to no dispute of that. Word on the street is that various local mercenary groups are being contacted for a “security contract” which is speculated to be from the Celestial’s people.

As this unfolding situation seems to be quickly coming to a head, it is unknown at this time as to whether the City-State will be collaborative on moving forward or if the Celestial will be cooperative with these recent decisions.

Many hold their breath to see what will happen next as some sort of confrontation, one way or another, seems unavoidable.


After receiving a foreboding letter early in the day bearing the seal of Aylin’s Reach, it was learned by those assembled that the Aldorian garrison of troops at the Spire of the Archons was made aware that a mysterious benefactor had given aid to the Archons and their (in)famous Recall Point magical project was completed. The timing seemed incredibly convenient given the fact that the Celestial was well versed in the magical defenses and countermeasures available to the City-State. On a similar note, City-State forces reported a magical feeling wash over them, detonating protective auras and harming those that wore them. It seemed the Celestial’s forces had unique magical defenses of their own.

The anti-Arragones forces did some work ahead of time to undermine the efforts of hiring mercenary thugs in the area, the collective group was able to negotiate with and pay off the remaining mercs. While trying to oversell their skills and abilities, it was obvious this group was little more than a band of thugs and brigands. Still, they took a pretty substantial amount of money after some tense discussion and left the area without further issue.

The second line of defense was the Tartan Moors, a semi-professional mercenary unit. It seemed like there would be no real efforts to pay them off or even an attempt to, as the honor and reputation of the group was on the line. Without a substantial reason given to the mercenary unit to abandon their contract, both sides would agree that they would fight it out but would spare the wounded or those who would yield. After a drawn out fight with both groups feeling the attrition of the battle, the Tartan Moors were defeated and given quarter and first aid. This was also done in tandem with awaiting martial units of the City-State and several of their allies and vassals pressing in to begin a fight against the estate’s defenders on multiple fronts.

The final line of defense was the devote followers and personal retinue of Celestial Arragones. Access to the personal libraries of the Celestial seemed sought after by many, but the Celestial’s demands to appease her tarnished reputation and standing revealed her intentions to destroy it instead of handing it over or be taken for her were deemed too much. After brief negotiations seem to stagnate, it was clear that the group had come to an impasse; the Celestial would not back down on her demands and the City-State would not agree to them. Both sides prepared for violence.

Where the first group was paid off and violence avoided and the second group battled it out in honorable and respectful combat, the third group of defenders saw the full brutality of martial conflict. Martial units in other parts of the estate’s holding pressed in to fight various groups of the Celestial’s defenders. The City-State task force pushed in and soon a pell mell skirmish took place all over. Wounded City-State allies were dragged off to be tended to while the Celestial’s defenders were cut down and either bled to death or a few were saved by neutral parties that offered to lend aid. Even with some the City-State forces giving some quarter to their enemy, many were killed in the fighting.

At the start of the attack, the Celestial’s forces were given a signal; to burn her private research and materials and deny it from being taken from her. She, and her followers, were determined that if the City-State persisted, they would not be allowed to take these items. Numerous fires were fed immense amounts of documents, scrolls, invaluable research notes, and magical formulas and it choked the air around the estate. Some of these materials had no copies, were one of a kind, and survived the fall of Faedrun, but were burned to ash and lost forever. The entirety of magical research of the people of Mardrun has been dealt an incredible setback.

However, as these materials were cast into the fire, a traitor among the Celestial’s groups convinced a scholar to turn on her forces and steal away some research materials. Trapped away from City-State forces, these two were able to save some research materials from the fire composing of lustful letters and stories between scholars along with some important and even some rare research notes. Despite these few items being saved, the vast majority of the libraries were destroyed.

As soldiers marched into the inner sanctum of the estate, Celestial Arragones conducted a Recall ritual to attempt to escape. Due to the fact that the City-State forces voted to deploy a “Recall Trap” magical countermeasure and their choice to move it as close as possible to the estate, the Celestial found herself reappearing from the mana stream into the waiting arms of City-State soldiers and shackled instead of whisked away to safety.

By the end of the day, the Celestial was detained and her forces were utterly devastated. The ramp-up of intensity of the fighting left many dead or seriously wounded, and the billowing smoke of numerous fires carried away the ashes of the largest magical library on the entire continent, the condemning words of several wounded and dying Arragones supporters reminding everyone of the consequences of the day.

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July 2022 – Festivities at Bladehome

As the hustle and bustle of the last several month’s activities continue to circulate around the continent, focus begins to shift toward the upcoming annual market faire gathering. After Chief Merchants and various administrators have met and discussed options, the decision on where to host it is finally made public and announced to all.

Bladehome, the settlement of the newly expanded Statehood territory of the Broken Blade Company, has put in some behind-the-scenes work to be chosen to host the market faire. Naysayers, used to having a shorter trip to attend the market faire, have already started to be vocal about security concerns over the well-known issue of banditry and lawlessness in this area. However, martial units bearing the Broken Blade Company heraldry have already been seen on patrol and work is in full swing on rebuilding bridges in the territory, so some of these concerns seem to have already been addressed.

As has been the norm at previous political dinners and market faires, there is news of an impending proclamation expected to be made by the City-State of Newhope. Whether it be speculation about the Outlands and the strange Syndar visitors last month, an address to concerns over the previous expeditions and research done into such things, or an official response to the declaration made be the collective Ulven Clans months ago about exerting more supervision and control on colonist activities, the rumor mill is in full swing about it. The exact focus of this official message to the masses is still unknown.

Regardless of big politics, many people are excited to come and peddle their wares or spend their coin at the market faire. Trade routes are already being redirected and travelers prepared to make the journey into former Riverhead territory and Bladehome is expecting a considerable influx of coin and travelers.



The day went largely as Market Faires do. People from all walks spilled into the new home of the Broken Blade Company and were met with indisputably excellent hospitality. Merchants peddled wares and leaders of various groups and factions met to talk shop. Grand feats of strength, cunning, and iron-stomachs ranging from Archery and Melee Tournaments, to messy pie-eating contests dazzled and entertained the crowd. There was even the Unofficial Official return of the Official Unofficial Chairs Street Rules Championships where a new contender appeared from nowhere to take away the prized Golden Stool.

Though there was a great amount of joy and revelry in the air there was also business. A representative from Newhope read out a proclamation written by Grand Duke Richards that stripped Celestial Arragones from her seat on the Newhope Council and removed her as the head of research for the colonies. In her place The Ravens University of Keys Crossing was promoted to stand as the managerial head of all City-State research projects moving forward.

This piece of business could not depress the mood long, however. Before you knew it people were back to their festivities, the fate of Arragones seeming to have no dampening effect on their moods. The day rounded to a close with a hearty drinking song sang together by all in attendence.

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June 2022 – Strangers from the North

After an incredibly eventful expedition into the Outlands there is a consistent buzz throughout the continent of Mardrun. People of all walks of life want to hear the stories of previously unknown beasts and strange Syndar to the north. The expeditionary forces reveal that they had spoken with the strange Syndar before leaving the Outlands and she agreed that she would travel south of the Swamp after returning to her people with the fruits of her hunt. She did, however, make it clear that she would go no further south than an outpost on The Shield of Mardrun until she had more time to vet and understand the strange southerners.

Hersir Sigurmond Shattered Spear heard the news and reached out to the people of Newhope to volunteer his outpost as a meeting place, but did make it clear that it was still an operating military outpost and while people were welcomed to visit and they should feel safe within his walls, there is still a threat from the Swamp. On the other hand, outposts along the Shield always offer excellent opportunities for people of all walks of life looking to make some coin and the thought of a stranger from a previously unknown culture has excited the minds of many a merchant looking to establish new routes or trade in unique goods from The Outlands.

Soon mercenaries, supply merchants, and caravans alike began to take Sigurmond up on his offer and before long the usually quiet outpost has become a flurry of life and activity. Whether they are there simply to find work or to speak with the stranger from the north, all sorts of people find themselves within the walls of The Shattered Spear Outpost or sprawling outside nearby in makeshift camps.

Unfortunately, it seems that things are not destined to remain quiet. News from scouts starts to spill into the outpost that a Mordok has been seen creating corruption idols in the edges of the swamp near the outpost. While these idols have yet to wreak havoc upon the garrisoned warriors, their effects have already begun to be felt. A familiar choking of the mana in the area has started to affect the ability of the mages and clerics within the outpost to regain their mana through meditation. At the time this is little more than an annoyance, but if left unchecked then the issue could prove to hinder the responsiveness of the outpost to a future Mordok assault.

Luckily, researchers have recently developed a standardized ritual to deactivate or destroy corruption idols and anyone with the means to gather this information should be able to procure the needed instructions to aid the outpost. Sigurmond has placed the outpost Quartermaster in charge of gathering volunteer forces to travel beyond the outpost to seek out and destroy these idols before they have a chance to become more than a simple thorn in the side.



The Stranger from the North arrived at the Shattered Spear Outpost, but she did not arrive alone. Alongside her was an additional Syndar dressed in the same manner. The two took turns through the day meeting with the various people of the camp and sharing little information about themselves or where they had come from. Throughout the day some people here and there were able to ingratiate themselves to the newcomers to enough of a degree that they were able to glean some information from them, but as far as public knowledge goes we were unfortunately left with more questions than answers.

As for the corruption idols in the area – The volunteer forces of the Shattered Spear Outposts were successful in their attempts to thwart these idols. One in the area seemed to act just as expected, but the other showed significantly more resilience, though luckily it was able to be contained and damaged enough that by the time the local Daughter of Gaia returned with aid, it was easily able to be dispatched.

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Guardians of the Wall

Organization Name: Guardians of the Wall (GOW)

Leading pc: Zenteagan Wincress
Members: Aladrin Greywood, Stanley Lorden, Conner Ashmane, Zenteagan Wincress, Audreanna Delamore
Setup: Affiliation
Focus: Economics / Martial
Location of Settlement: South of the Great Forest Lake near the point of the mountains. West of Clan Goldenfield.
Name of Settlement: Shieldhaven

Political Ideologies: GOW has no positions of agreeing with any particular political group or faction. We have no holdings with positions of power that are established as of writing this edict. In terms of leanings, GOW is neutral in all political squabbles unless it directly affects our members or organization.

Do you want a place to belong? Do you want a family to call your own? Would you die for your family and hope they would die for you? Then join the Guardians of the Wall.

What started as a group of adventurers, has turned into a family that continues to grow. We look out for each other and we look out for our own. We don’t take sides with warring nations or infighting, but rather we treat each of our family members as a trusted ally and would willingly give up our lives to defend those among us. Whether it’s defending our home against attacking Mordok or sending our Wall to aid other members in their trials, we will do what is necessary to provide our fellow members with a safe and secure family. Most importantly, we are connoisseurs of pork and ale.

The following are our tenants and upheld agreements by which all members will abide and agree:

Tenant 1: All members will act in the GOW’s best interest and not act in any way that would jeopardize the validity or honor of our organization.

Tenant 2: You must never harm or steal from another member, but rather must defend each member with your life. Each member of the Wall will protect and defend eachother ato the absolute best of their individual abilities.

Tenant 3: No single member speaks for the entire group, decisions that may affect more than one self or the image of the wall will be discussed as a whole.


Ranking and hierarchy:
All ranking is by honorable title and nothing more. No position has lordship or control of any subsequent positions.

The Council: The nameless, founding members of the GOW solely exist to establish and uphold rules agreed upon by the various members. In the event of disputes and ultimately decisions regarding membership and the wellbeing of the GOW, the Council will convene and deliberate a decision.

The Wall: The sole individual with the honorary title of “The Wall” is Stanley Lorden. While not a position of authority, it is the founding member’s ranking that must be honored and held in regard, as we would not exist without him. In the event of combat, any questions of tactics will fall to the Wall.

Shield Brothers/Maidens: Below noone, this highest of honorary titles is bestowed to all who choose to don a shield to protect the Wall. These individuals will be respected and cherished as positioning themselves in the most dangerous areas of combat and have devoted their lives to the sole responsibility of protecting the members. 

Guardians: All members are considered guardians and will be addressed as such when necessary.