Non-Human Registration Act of CK Reign 54

This page is for the Celestial Kingdom monarchy's posts during Reign 54-Registration of Non-Humans under King Armand

First speech of the King

May 7: Armand spoke to the crowd of his followers and declared his first act as King of the Celestial Kingdom. "The Non-Human registration act of reign 54 will create a safer land for us all. All Non-Humans must register with their local Prime Ministers within 2 weeks or become enemies of the Kingdom. This is for the safety of everyone and should be encouraged by all. Humans and Non-Humans should work together in bringing peace to this war ravaged land".
He smiled as there was protest, and sounds of concern coming from the populous. He could also see some that welcomed the idea and would embrace it. "The plan is now in motion".
The imposter thought as he turned and walked back inside the castle his guards following. The Reign of Chaos has begun.

Second Letter from the King

May 11: Armand sat in his study watching his subjects through the window as he wrote out the following letter to the parks.
"Do not be afraid. This act is for the safety of all Non-Human and Human that reside in our glorious kingdom. The separation I am seeing is breaking my heart and it saddens me. The registration of Non-Humans is so that the fears would be erased from those that do not understand. Never have I said monsters in my comments to this act. I do not see Non-humans as a lesser beings, but I do see them as a unchecked force. As we have seen in the last few days alone there has been outrage and speculations about my agendas with this act. I assure you the safety of all is my only concern. Local Prime Ministers and leaders have less than 2 weeks to complete the registration and send it in. We must maintain the peace as we move forward. Those that directly oppose this act are to be captured and sent to trial, we all have a responsibility to our kingdom.

In service to the realm,

King Armand DeSanto”

He set his pen down and thought hard about the uprising that is happening all around him. The support he has already built and the divide that has begun. Perfect, things are moving along greatly. I must build a strong counsel since I cannot be everywhere at once. I must visit the provenances soon. The end has begun.

Lord Champion kneels before the throne

May 11: I kneel before the throne. “Majesty. Command me, Sire.”
“Rise.” Armand waves away the hovering servants. “You have seen the reports?”
Rather a silly question as I wrote most of them. “Yes, Majesty. Resistance is showing in most of the lands. The edict of registration is not popular.”
“Tactful as always,” the king smiles. “What you’re really saying is that this has pushed the kingdom to the brink of revolt.” He sighs, and rubs his forehead. “You know this provides protection to the non-humans as well, right? The first step towards ensuring equal rights is identifying who is being disadvantaged.”
I blink, never actually having thought of that. “Truth, Majesty.”
“Where are you traveling this week?”
“The Barony of Murky Waters, Sire.”
“Is there a reason?”
I nod. “Of all the lands to date, they are the only ones to cry ‘death to the king.’ I’m going up there to test the level of anger and determine if it was merely a slip of the tongue or an act of rebellion.”
“Lord Champion,” The king fixes me with a level look, “Do not summarily arrest or execute without cause.”
I kneel. “Majesty, I will not.”
He nods and I am dismissed.
Outside, I take a breath of crisp morning air and look at the small cadre I have chosen to ride with me. “Persuasion,” I say softly. “Not might. Oh, and if death becomes necessary, I am the one to handle it.” My escort group nods. I swing into the saddle and we ride.

Musings of the Prime Minister

May 11: As Lord Fister walked about his chambers, an unsettling thought reared into his mind. T'was not a few days prior that when King Armand stepped into power, he called forth the Non-Human Registration. This was a mighty blow to the Kingdom in Fisters eyes seeing how a great sum of his homelands were "Non-Humans". What made it even worse for him was that it was he that would have to enforce the registration. Fister was tormented at the fact that not only did he not want to do it, but his hand is forced. He knew being the Kingdom Prime Minister was not an easy task, but this was beginning to be too much for him.
He pulled out a piece of parchment, a quill and ink, and began to write a letter.

"My dearest brother,
I am sorry to do this. I am so very sorry. What is being asked of me is too much to bear. I fear that what the new king asks will bring about anarchy and dissension among the kingdom. I worry that if left unchecked, the schism may happen again and a war unlike any other will plague the lands. What breaks my heart is that under this new rule and order, I am the one who has to sign off on what I feel is the death sentence to most of my friends. I am troubled by this, Raban. I know not what to do in this case and need your counsel. As you have told me in years past, a wise leader has wise counsel and now I need your wisdom now more than ever.

-Fister"

He attached the letter to a raven and sent it on it's way. He sat at his desk, hands folded, and stared into the candle light. "We shall see what tomorrow brings" he said to himself before he blew out the candle to let the darkness take over the room.

Letter from the Prime Minister

May 12: Prime Minister Fister awoke from his slumber. Groggy, head heavy, still drained. He still felt as if something was wrong but he had a job to do. He slowly hobbled to his desk, slumped into his chair, and reached into his desk drawer to pull out some paper and ink. He sat there, pondering for a time while he collected his thoughts. He noticed it was harder for him to concentrate more than usual but he brushed off the notion that something was actually wrong.
He finally picked up a quill, dabbed it in the ink well, and began to write.
"Attention Populace of the Celestial Kingdom.

I understand the frustration that the majority of the lands are feeling in this time and your voices are not unheard. I will admit that I have my own reservations about this act that has been thrust upon you, but I will say that King Armand has your best interest in mind. These words are not just coming from a man that serves the King, but from a long time friend. Our King has ALWAYS had the best intentions of the greater good and has always worked tirelessly to bring about the good and fair in everything he did for the populace in the past. I have full trust in our King and I pray you follow my lead. He hasn't given us any reason to doubt him in the past so why should we now? I know the announcement of the Non-Human Registry has dealt a blow to the hearts and minds of the populace, but think of it this way. With the closing of the Devil's Bayou Correctional Facility for Monsters, many dangerous monsters and Non-Human types were released back into the population. There needs to be a way to keep track of all of them for everyones safety. I know most of you will not agree with me or agree with the registration, but at least put your faith in our good king that has never done us wrong before.

Sincerely,

Lord Fister Wyngarde

Celestial Kingdom Prime Minister"

He made 14 copies, one for each province under the Celestial Banner. He attached them to 13 Ravens and 1 Bat, and sent them on their way.

Introduction of the Prince Regent

May 12: A new figure has arrived on the landscape of the Celestial Kingdom, riding in from the outlands through the Traitor’s Gate…
An average looking man, well fed and well traveled, familiar to a few, unknown to many. Recognized by some from years spent on the fringes of the realms as a merchant and facilitator of feast and celebrations, a man that once roamed Turris Lunae before the land fell to ruin, had withdrawn himself from the kingdom in search of purpose and enlightenment, for what reason has he now returned?

Part 1: Arriving and Getting…Settled
A travelling group reared by an average merchant carriage, loaded with chests and luggage; the sounds of children playing come from inside, escorted by dark, cloaked masses of beings on horseback at four points and led by a man wearing a familiar brass adornment, slowly rides into town. Greeted on the outskirts by the local town guard, one approaches, “Welcome Prince, let us see you to your new quarters.” as they ride towards the Celestial Kingdom Prince’s castle…

-A week has gone by and the Prince has settled into his new abode. A visitor has come to the tower- “Selric, have you ever seen the kingdom this close to active revolt?” The Prince Regent, usually laughing or smiling, was hunched worriedly at the desk in his study. Around him, the Regent’s castle buzzed softly with the usual activity of servants, spells and guards. Across from him sat the smoky form of the revenant Champion.
“Not recently, no.” The Lord Champion replied after a moment of thought. “There were episodes that got this bad in a couple of the smaller lands in other kingdoms, though. Years ago.”
Prince Girfterr shoved his chair back and stalked angrily to the window. “Five lands have already publicly declared opposition to the order. There are messages flying all over the kingdom calling for resistance to a lawful edict!” He whirled back. “This is treason! But Armand has ordered us to explain and persuade, not execute the traitors!” The revenant simply nodded. “What in the name of all nine hells are we supposed to do about this?”
“Highness.” The revenant swirled to his feet. “To whom did you take your oath of fealty?”
“To the Crown,” Grifterr admitted.
“I as well,” the Champion said softly. “And that Crown sits atop Armand’s head. Our duty is clear. We follow the orders of our lawful King until it becomes apparent that the balance of his reason is disturbed. Or the Kingdom burns around us.”
Grifterr looked hard at the Champion. “And you’re sanguine with that happening?”
“My oath does not permit me to go behind the King’s back.”
Grifterr sighed, and turned back to the window. “Highness, if it is any comfort, this has been tried before. The wheels of time turn, Highness, but very little is new.”
Grifterr turned. “Really, Lord Champion?”
At the nod, he sighed. “Details, then. I assume the Lorekeepers have records?”
“I’m certain they do, but you’ve a better source much closer to home. Do you know Father Thomas?” “The Black Phoenix from Traitor’s Gate?”
“Aye. “
”Ask him what he knows of the Church.”
“Which one? The High Cross? CoA?” As Prince Grifterr rises and motions, he walks with Selric towards the chamber door.
“The Church of Genetic Purity.” The revenant sighed. “And if he balks, remind him that I have a long memory, and a medallion.”
Prince Grifterr says to Selric “Glory be to King Armand”, Selric nods “Aye”.
The Revenant makes his leave of the Prince’s chamber, his eery glow looms as he makes way down the stair well. The Prince watches with one eye for the glow to fade as he slowly closes the door, outside stands his defender Lodar Selzones, they match a brief nod. In that one look an hour of conversation and understanding was exchanged between the two, the door latches closed.
Prince Grifterr makes his way to an old chest in the corner and says to himself “I must contact the Black phoenix from the Church of Genetic Purity eh, odd times ahead indeed. Stay aware, stay grounded.”
He looks into a mirror, the image returned *almost* matches his, “We are Switzerland” he says as he stares into his strained and haunting image. Looking back down into the old chest he pulls an leather bag emblazoned with a horseshoe, removes the contents in one hand, raises it up and lets unfurl the coiled strap of oxblood, the object makes a sweetly pitched noise as the steel ring bounces on the floor, dangling from the dark red strap. “Darker alliances have been made in the past…time to have some fun”. He wraps the belt around his waist.

Riot at the Bayou

May 13: Fister traveled to his home at the Devil's Bayou. He had heard of unrest among the populace but to see for himself. He was tired and drained but had to uphold his duties. When he arrived, he saw something the like he has never seen before. Fairies were rioting. Fairies around the lands had always been kind to him or kept to themselves, away from everyone. Seeing this sight, he had an inkling as to why they were doing this. As he got closer he heard their chants,

"Let us go, leave us be, registration needs to cease".

As Fister attempted to approach, they became agitated. He attempted to speak to them to try and quell the anger but they did not have it. He saw first hand what would happen if the registration continued, but Armand has the best interest of the Kingdom. He had to. As Fister tried to reason with the rioting fairies, they began to throw their fairy magic in an attempt to harm him.

Something was awry and Fister felt completely helpless. He was torn between the words of a friend he trusted and the reality of what it was doing.

"What can I do?" Fister asked himself as he hung his head, crying for he felt the pain, anger, and fear of every creature that was rioting in the province he called home.

"What can be done?"

Letter from the Lord Champion

May 14: A shadowy figure passed silently into the room, scaring a neophyte clerk into soiling himself. A missive hit the desk in front of the cowering clerk.

"For the King," the figure hissed and disappeared.

Armand glanced at the seal (crown and sword over the Dragon) and then broke the wax.

"To His Majesty, Armand DeSanto,

"As I intended, I have ridden to the Barony of Murky Waters, and there attempted reason with those who rebel. The situation, I fear, is grave. The Baron spoke loudly of his refusal to obey thy order and much of the populace has taken his part. Only thy loyal Duke Distan Tgd and Master Gillzer have professed loyalty to the crown.

"I spoke to many of the benefits of obedience, but they remained steadfast in their decisions.

"There remains a bright lining in threes tidings: a struggle is at hand for the baronial coronet, with Watcher and Fenris locked in conflict. If Watcher falls, the land may yet come to obedience.

"I have compiled a list of all who have spoken against thy lawful edict and will maintain this against the day thou give command to begin trial. I believe most are mislead by there leaders and that they merely parrot the words without knowing the meaning.

"Watcher, however, has gone very far indeed, reiterating his cry that the King perish. I recommend that he be apprehended and put to question.

"Finally, Squire Yhamish has confirmed that Slaughter Creek is likewise in revolt against thy order.

"I have begun preparing the courts of justice and the implements of holding and execution that I may not be behind when thy patience wears thin.

"In service to the Crown and Kingdom, I remain,

Selric Revenates Lord Champion of the Celestial Kingdom"

King's Address at Eclipse

May 13:The weather was fair and the enthusiasm high from the citizens of Eclipse. Armand had a smile on his face as he watched the gladiatorial bouts happening. A few citizens came up for an audience and kneeled in front of the king with concerns of the registration. Each one was spoken to as a friend and they even registered right then and there. “Mayhem, please take down these non-humans registration so it can be added to the Kingdom registration”. One of the citizens came up and looked like a normal human with no cross breeding at all, but the thing in Armand could feel the presence of a demon. Ignoring the feeling Armand spoke “So, you do not appear to be non-human” speaking to the crowd Armand then raised his voice “Citizens of Eclipes, here before me is a very good example of the unknown dangers that the registration act will prevent”! Looking down at the kneeling half demon Armand spoke in the most friendly and stern voice he could manage. “Creature tell the people here what you are”! Then the being spoke in a low whisper “I am a half demon my king”. Armand smiled and scanned the crowed “Did you hear that? You have had a half DEMON in your mist. This is something that should be known to all”. Armand looked back to the half demon and said in a low voice “Thank you for registering this land is safer for it”. Dismissing the non-human with a wave of his hand.

From the left side there was a shout that couldn't be made out well. Then there was a grey streak heading for the king. The reflexes of Mayhem where lighting fast and the weapon he was holding shattered blocking the phase arrow. “Arrest him”! Yelled one of the guards “Kill the would be assassin”! Another screamed. Armand rose up to the stirring chaos of the crowed and looked around for more assassins.

The bandit leader who fired the arrow and his two partners were captured and brought before the King. “What would you like us to do with them my king”. Mayhem asked afraid of the answer that would surely come, but he was surprised when the king spoke. “Put them in jail, make sure they are well taken care of and feed. Have them questioned and then a trial will be had. We do not need more killing than there is already happening. That is not what this is about”. The healer noted this and went and resurrected the hill giant that was slain in the gladiatorial pit.

Armand placed a hand on Mayhems shoulder “We will make this kingdom great again my friend”.

Musings of the Prime Minister

May 17: As Fister awaits in his study, the days seem to get longer as his body grows weaker. Reports have been flooding in of unrest throughout the Kingdom. He is troubled by what he has been reading and seeing firsthand. Between the Fairy and Goblin Riots at the Devil's Bayou, the vocal unrest at Murky Waters, and strings of mishaps throughout the other provinces had Fister worried. At times he gave the registration second thoughts and had massive doubts, but then he thought back to the words his friend, the King has said.

"What are they fighting for? Why against a kind friend?" he asked himself.

He had to think of a way to calm everyone and to quell the fears the populace was having. He started to doubt himself. What could he do? He was too weak to carry this train of thought. What was happening to him?

Prime Minister's Letters from home

May 12: Fister sat at his desk in his chambers looking over paperwork and reports from the provinces. Things were looking grave. His body began to shrivel, thirst and appetite lost, energy almost depleted. You can see the untouched food on his desk covered in fields of white and green mold. As he sat there thinking to himself, a bat came flying through the door with a letter attached. He retrieved the parchment and began to read;

"Fister, I'm writing you in a panic. Today, at the Bayou, some human citizens decided to take the law into their own hands and attacked a temple in the western border of the land. When I received word of this vigilantism I rushed to stop the violence. The humans turned on me as well! This division is the result of Armand DeSanto's decree. We crushed the humans leaving none alive but I fear more violence is on the horizon. I am upholding the king's decree but I need reinforcement. I need your skills as a marksman to help with what is next. Come home, my friend."

He read the letter again and again, unable to fathom what was taking place in his home, let alone his kingdom. What was he to do?

He took out some parchment and began to write;

"Rabanzarelli Ethindalus Harkonnus, Brother, I have read your words and am appalled as to what happened on our lands. To say the least, it is not right and I'm glad that you are ok. I will do my best to get word from the King and sort this out. You have my word that I will defend our home with bow, blade, axe, and magic. Whatever needs to be done will be done."

He attached the letter to the bat and sent it on it's way. He then began to write another letter.

"King Armand, News of bedlam has been coming in and they are saying it is all due to your decree of the Non-Human Registration. I know that you have said that it is for the good of the Kingdom and I trust you as a leader and as a friend, but to what end must me go through in order to see the light?"

Fister attached the letter to a raven and sent it on it's way. He then began to wait, afraid as to what the near future holds.

Champion's Letter to the Saint of Sadism

May 27: A letter, borne by one of Selric's fast couriers:

Unto the Saint of Sadism, greetings,

You are no doubt aware of the edict of our King Armand, and also likely aware of the resistance that has formed. In the Barony where you reside, there have been troubling statements of non-compliance.

Attached you will find a partial list of individuals wanted for questioning or facing trial before the courts. I charge you to assist the crown in this matter and bring these miscreants before the bar to answer for their misdeeds. As is customary, the Crown has authorized a fee to offset your expenses; the amount for each is listed beside the name and crimes of which each stands accused.

I must emphasize that neither His Majesty nor I greatly care about the condition these folks are in upon arrival. We will see to their needs, and if it prove necessary, their wounds, appropriately. I trust you to use only that force which you seem necessary.

In Service, Selric Revenates Lord Champion of the Celestial Kingdom

Champion's Directive to House Thug

A silent servant guided the tall form of the Lord Enforcer of House Thug to the solarium in the Champion’s Keep. Outside, as was normal, sentries paced to and fro, no lights shining anywhere. The dark stone drank what little starshine filtered through the oppressive gloom.

Selric raised his head from where he stood bent over a large table when Kyrryn Stonewall entered. “Ah, Lord Enforcer. A pleasure to see you again. I trust your journey was uneventful?”

Kyrryn smiled. “Teleportation does not usually tax the body. I am well. And you?”

“As well as can be expected.” Selric beckoned the Thug to his side. “And there are…reasons…why I felt it best that as few know of this meeting as possible. Wine? Or I have some of the Dame’s latest mead.”

“Mead, please.” Kyrryn looked at the table to see a highly detailed map of the kingdom, with markers showing travelers, wayposts and caravans. A leathern jack of the golden honey drink was pressed into his hand and the servant withdrew.

The Lord Champion stood straight, easing the muscles in his back. If it were possible, Kyrryn would have sworn the revenant looked older now than he had looked only two weeks past, when Baron Watcher of Murky Waters had hurled his challenge at him. “How fares Kaembryge?”

Kyrryn waved at the map. “This tells the tale as well as I could. Travellers are at an all-time low. The edict of the king and the refusal to obey by many of the lands have slowed merchants and tourists alike from entering the borders. Bandits, raiders and reivers are rife. The coffers of House Thug are being daily drained and our normal methods of replenishing them are reaping little benefit.”

Selric nodded. “You’ll be unsurprised, then, to know that our forecasts are for this to continue as long as the king persists in this registration. Already, I have had to order special detachments of my forces to patrol the Dragon’s Road. Bandits are seizing upon this edict as an excuse for lawlessness.” He sighed. “And the deadline draws apace. I think the King will not be forgiving after this weekend.”

Kyrryn looked steadily at the smoky form. “You summoned me, Lord Champion. Why?”

Selric looked just as steadily back. “I am the mailed fist of the King’s Justice,” he said softly. “Those who disobey must be brought to answer for their crimes. My forces are spread out to protect the roads and defend the borders.” He lifted a scroll from the edge of the table where Kyrryn had not noticed it before. “I have a commission for House Thug.”

“The usual rates?”

Selric flicked his wrist, unrolling the top part of the scroll. “Some of these on this list have refused registry and are known or suspected of being non-human. Others have refused to abide by the King’s decree and have not forwarded the registry information. You will note a price beside each.”

Kyrryn looked at the first few names. “A landed Baron makes your list?”

“He does when he shouts ‘Death to the King,’ “ Selric shrugged.

“And these prices…alive or dead?”

“Lord Enforcer, I am a devotee of the Most High God, and a councilor of House Bloodless. The condition of these fools upon delivery does not concern me. I am certain that with some time spent in the cemetery behind the keep, I can raise a jury of peers for even the most gruesomely deceased. Quick or dead, injured or hale; only delivery matters.”

Kyrryn smiled. “Payment upon receipt?”

“Aye,” the Champion nodded. “And a securing of our contract now.” He produced a small but fat purse and dropped it upon the table beside the scroll. “You are satisfied?”

“House Thug thanks you for your commission, Lord Champion. We will begin as soon as we may.”

Champion's Letter to the Southern Commander

May 27: Another of the shadowy couriers arrived at the keep that houses the southern watch. The commander, by now used to the arrival of Selric's minions, took the missive with a nod, checked the seal and opened the small scroll.

Unto the Commander of the Southern Watch,

The time has expired for voluntary registration, and there are some among the southern reach that have resisted the king's command. I charge you, therefore, to set a patrol to rounding up those who have failed to register and transport them to my Keep for questioning and, if necessary, trial.

If this will unreasonably limit your standard patrols to maintain the security of our border or the safety of the Dragon's Road, you are authorized to hire mercenary assistance from Wickerwood or Paragons Cross.

Given under my hand, Selric Revenates Lord Champion of the Celestial Kingdom A series of posters appear around kingdom in many of the outlying lands.

NOW HIRING

May 28: His Majesty Armand DeSanto hath called for loyal citizens and true to maintain the laws of the land and the edicts of the King. All who stands ready to serve are invited to apply for the post of Non Compliance Officer. Said post is charged with ensuring full compliance with the Edict of Non-Human Registration, and, when necessary, apprehension, detention and transport of those miscreants who persist in disobedience.

Apply in person at the King's Consulate of thy land.

Prime Minister's visit to Emerald Hills

As Fister rode North to the neighboring kingdom of the Emerald Hills, he was greeted with open arms. Surprised, Fister took this act of kindness lightly. Something was off, but he played along.

He was escorted to the Hall of Kings where he was greeted by the Viking King of the EH, Bjorn Banhammer. With a loud roar the King proclaimed " Lord Fister, Prime Minister and Ambassador of the Celestial Kingdom! You have graced us with your presence. We are glad and humble for your visit. Come sit and feast with us. We have much to talk about."

As he sat and dined with the king, a troubling topic arose that Fister was not ready to take on.

King Bjorn began to speak. "We have heard of the troubles that have been plaguing your lands. This plague I speak about is of the Non-Human registration that has been thrust unto your populace by your new King. I must say that it is an atrocity that has befallen your lands and MUST be stopped. I am giving you a warning and making you a promise. If the registration does not cease, the Emerald Hills WILL intervene and put a stop to it. With Thor Odinson and Odin Allfather as my witness, you have my word."

Fister was taken aback. He was speechless as to what the neighboring King had to say. This made Fister think as to what was really going on in his lands. He trusted Armand as a friend, but maybe what Bjorn was saying had some truth and weight to it. Fister bowed to the King of the Emerald Hills and left the Hall of Kings almost immediately. He rode home, this new information weighing heavy on his mind. He must send news to Armand immediately and get to the bottom of this or else a terrible tragedy would befall the Kingdom.

Armand's Letter to the Provinces

Let it be known the time has passed and all Non-Humans that have not registered have become enemies of the Kingdom. I did not say enemies of the crown because they have neglected to show they care about each an every one of you by declining not to register.They have put everyone at risk by not doing what is right. The facts are we do not know what is out there and who is dangerous. Each individual is responsible for the well being of their family and friends in this trying time. I am asking for members of the populous to rise up and claim that responsibility! By becoming NCOs (Non-Human Compliance Officers) you will be making the Kingdom a much safer place by pointing out unregistered non-humans and assisting local guards in the apprehension of these outlaws. At this time anyone resisting the non-human registration act will be found guilty of crimes against the Kingdom. 

If you wish to become apart of making the Celestial Kingdom safe and am willing to step up and make a difference join up and become an NCO. Non-Human Compliance Officers will be payed wages, receive training in martial skills, as well as become highly skilled in the tracking and identifying of non-humans.

Lord Champion strikes a deal

June 10:The cropland near the sprawling Barony of Slaughter Creek afforded excellent protection to anyone attempting to view the area unobserved, Lireal thought. Tall and lush, the rushlight bushes that grew the magical lighting for the kingdom obscured even the keenest eye. And now, if ever, was the time for concealment.

The rumors had flown faster than the ravens. Slaughter Creek, once standing proudly against the decree of the king, had been humbled by the power of the Crown forces and their loyalists. Under the command of the Lord Champion, and with the Monarch himself on the field, the carefully designed “underground railway” intended to move unregistered non-humans to sanctuaries had been revealed, trapped and crushed in a single movement of power. Few of the conspirators had survived or escaped and the dungeons of Slaughter Creek’s keep held scores of miscreants awaiting their turn before the courts of justice.

But the most compelling rumor, and the one that had brought the young Seneschal of Murky Waters to the central Barony, was the rumor that Baron Latilic himself had been captured during the conflict and now was under accusation of treason. If true, this would mean a powerful ally of the northern Barony had fallen, and could lead to further complications. Also, if true and Lireal could act without endangering herself, she had every intention of springing Latilic from his prison and returning them both to the safer lands of Murky Waters.

With that goal in mind, she had planned her foray carefully. The Monarch was on a formal visit to the Wetlands, celebrating the reign of the Dwarven King Under the Mountain. His Highness the Prince Regent was holding court at the Traitor’s Gate and the Lord Champion was said to be at the shire of Nocturnis attending to affairs there. The only individual of concern to Lireal, then, was Slaughter Creek’s Defender, the sadistic Sir Thaddigren, and if she eluded him, she would be able to effect the rescue.

She hoped.

Her wings rustled uncomfortably against the rushlight bushes and with a silent curse, she tucked them in tighter. They were still new and she hadn’t quite got the hang of working with them. They were beautiful, though. She peered past the foliage and counted softly.

Eight guards on the wall. Standard pattern. Nothing out of the ordinary. All guards wearing Slaughter Creek livery, and no sign of Crown insignia. Her eyes fixed on a secluded and sheltered niche just beyond the perimeter where the outer guards would not see in passing unless they looked specifically there. Her cloak of shadows would help with her being unnoticed. She fingered her medallion, felt it grow warm…

A rush of warmth, blossoming under her fingers, engulfing her as the dragonfire once had, twisted her shape out of phase with the physical world and rendering her insubstantial and ethereal. The astral plane in all its glory spread open to her, a sort of ghostly mirror of the physical realms she had just quitted, but bound by far different laws. A step became two, a rush, and her form blurred into motion as she stepped past the unseeing guards to her target. The warmth dissipated and she found herself hidden beneath the cloak in the niche she had focused upon.

So far, so good.

She peered cautiously out from under the cloak, looking for another secluded spot to teleport to. It was not long in coming; a large tumbrel, probably used for transport of convicted felons to the gallows, was upended against an inner wall, and a shadowy space lay there out of the line of sight from any of the guards. Warmth took her again and soon she lay safely hidden by the tumbrel’s bulk.

From her new vantage point, she could look upon the upper reaches of the dungeon and the sight she saw sickened her to her core. The Baron, stripped of insignia, was pinned to a wall by heavy iron spikes. The glow of magic was faintly visible and with her stomach churning in horror, Lireal could see that the Baron had been enchanted with a regenerative magic that prevented him from dying while holding him in excruciating pain.

That this was the work of the Saint of Sadism was not in doubt. Lireal hunkered down and checked the wards on the barred window. As she suspected, the astral plane was unreachable in the place of horrors, but the bars were old and probably would be susceptible to both magical and physical force. Her hand gripped the ashen staff of Hatred, the powerful weapon she had borrowed from Yhamish and she whispered spells of silence and unnotice to conceal her next action.

Slithering out from under the tumbrel, she stepped two paces and stopped dead. With the new angle she could see what she had not until then: the flickering glow of the dragon-adorned shield that all the Kingdom knew and feared. The Champion was here. She whirled, intent on diving back under the tumbrel, but the grave-cold touch on her shoulder as she spun told her that her luck had run out.

White lights burst inside Lireal’s brain and she knew no more.

---

She came to, groggily, and knew at once that she was not where she had fallen. For starters, she lay not upon grass but stone, chill with age and fitted for flooring. Iron bound her wrists and ankles.

Fear shot through her and she flung herself to her feet, only to be arrested in her headlong plunge by the chains which bound her. Though she strained against them, they gave her no release. At last, she stopped, panting…and only then realized she had an audience.

Lord Champion Selric Revenates leaned against the far wall, half-shrouded in darkness, waiting for her notice. As her eyes locked on his, he unfolded his length from the leaning pose and waved his hand, conjuring up a pair of rude wooden chairs and a table of similar manufacture.

“Please, Lireal, sit.” His voice was harsh and, with a shock, she noticed that he seemed older and more fatigued than he had appeared on a few short weeks ago when she had seen him in the Barony of Murky Waters. So great was her surprise at the change that she sank into the seat without protest, watching as he took the opposite chair.

“Where am I?” she whispered.

“Shieldwall Keep, near Tori Mar,” he answered. “The holding of the Lord Champion.”

“Why?”

The revenant shrugged. “Well, for starters, you’re dragonseed and unregistered. That puts you on the wrong end of the law as is. Then, there’s the fact that you’re a sworn officer of the Crown lands and you’ve taken a stand against the lawful edict of a rightful King. That labels you traitor. Under the current rules, I’m probably supposed to puppet you through the courts and execute you forthwith.”

Somehow the dry recitation of crimes stiffened Lireal’s backbone. “So why don’t you?” she challenged.

There was a heavy sigh. “I will answer that question eventually, but I have other things I need to know, first. You’re a long way from the land you serve as Seneschal. Why were you in Slaughter Creek?”

“Sightseeing.”

“The prison is on the latest tour? I was unaware of that.”

She tossed her head. “Why is Latilic being tortured?”

The Champion closed his eyes. “Because His Majesty tasked Sir Thaddigren with ensuring the Baron remains present for his trial. And Sir Thaddigren is…inventive…in manners concerning security.” He opened his eyes again. “That is why I brought you here. Here, I hold sway and I do not permit such atrocities. Again, why were you in Slaughter Creek?”

Lireal briefly weighed the manacles she was wearing against the spikes that might be driven through her fledgling wings and shivered. “I wanted to see if the rumors were true.”

“That the Baron is captured? He is. And undergoing trial beginning tomorrow. Were you hoping to rescue him?”

“It had crossed my mind,” she countered.

The Champion nodded grimly. “To date there have been six rescue attempts. None have succeeded. All they’ve done is coat blades with blood.”

“Mine put me in irons.”

“It could be worse. You could be on the block.”

Lireal shivered again. “Why don’t you have me tried and executed, then?”

The Champion seemed to sag slightly. “My oath to the Crown is not the only one I took. I was oathbound to the Kingdom entire long before. And it seems that the Kingdom is calling that due.”

“What do you mean?”

The ageless eyes of the undead looked at the dragonseed. “The land is being torn apart. I have to believe that Armand knows what he is doing and that he has a plan, but I face the real issues here. People of this land are fighting each other, dying in droves. The land calls upon me to defend it and until now, I didn’t see a way to do so without turning my back on the Monarch.”

“So what changed?”

The Champion smiled. “You arrived. You’re exactly what I need. And I’m willing to put your name on my registry and let you go, if you’ll complete one small task.” He stood and muttered something; the chains fell away from Lireal’s irons. Although her wrists and ankles still held the metal bonds, she was no longer held to the wall. The door slid open. “Follow me.”

Curiosity took Lireal after Selric down a corridor to a large room outfitted with hundreds of carved marble shelves set into the walls.

“A sepulcher?” she asked.

“Aye,” Selric nodded. “I need this room consecrated.”

“Why?” Lireal asked, blankly.

“Seneschal, I am a devotee of the Most High God. If, in fact, it is proven that those slain under my orders died unjustly, I would like the opportunity to restore them to life. And to do so…”

“They have to be interred in hallowed ground.”

“Precisely. Do I have your parole and your oath to complete this task?”

Lireal paused, calculated her options. There weren’t many. She sighed. “Yes.”

Selric nodded. “My thanks, Lireal.”

“One last question, if I may. Where is the weapon I was holding when you captured me?”

The Champion turned back. “Hatred? She’s in my armory, newly polished, and with a rivet in the lower ring reset. It was working loose.”

Lireal stared at him, stunned.

Another smile. “What, you thought I wouldn’t recognize the weapon of a man I call brother?” He turned to leave, then turned back. “By the way, tell Yhamish that she needs rededication, too. Especially if he’s planning to loan her to people who intend to use her to commit jailbreaks.”

Prince's Visits

June 5: "The kingdom has been abuzz with activity lately hasn't it old friend?" Prince Grifterr says to Lord Fister. "Yes, the registration act and non-compliance has been taking its toll on some and rallying others to a cause they knew not two harvests before" he replied.

"Well that is a good thing right? I mean I know there is dissent and strife and some may be losing their heads, but the arts aren't suffering, in fact I would say this has been beneficial, have you ever seen the craftsman work harder?" says the prince. Lord Fister lowered and shook his head and responds "My friend, you do realize the crafting comes mainly in the form of forging and smithing...for war...instruments of death are being crafted on both sides." The Prince looks over at him "But have you ever seen such fine bladework from the monsters, their wares are simply exquisite! Do me a favor good sir and ready a raven , regardless of a battle I wish to examine these wares more closely. I shall send out a kingdom challenge to be met through the summer months during times of Quest and travel...." Lord Fister takes notes, wraps the message to the raven's leg, and sends it off to kingdom for word to be spread. The two share an embrace of old friends and solidarity and Lord Fister leaves the Prince's tower.

....later that evening....

Prince Grifterr is visited by the old Revenant Champion of the Celestial Kingdom, in all of his blue-glowing glory. "Welcome dear friend, what brings you my way this fine evening?" The Lord Champion simply replies "What in the world do you mean by...*Show me your shinies*, did I read correctly?" The Prince smiles large and stands up excitedly "Yes you did, and doesn't it sound great?!". The Lord Champion shakes his head slightly and says, "Please make sure to properly explain to the populace so to avoid the unnecessary confusion of something naughty." The Prince frowns slightly, "What could be naughty about showing me your crafted wa....ohhhhh yeah I guess I could see where that could go wrong, I shall elaborate..." The Lord Champion thanks the Prince and also reminds him "Good Prince, you still must set forth the guidelines for the royal Dragonmaster competition, the artisans need time to prepare their crafts for your judging and approval." The Prince replies "Noted good sir, the rules are set and the game is on, time for them to begin crafting, I will have signs posted across the kingdom, this shall be most glorious". There is a feint shake of blue light as the Lord Champion attempts a smile and nod, the best a magical dead man can.

As the Lord Champion leaves the tower, the Prince starts humming a tune to himself. "That sounds marvelous, I must write it down." He pulls out a quill and paper, continuing to hum to himself he begins to write, and hum. After a while, he stops and can write no more, frustrated he grabs a paper and tears it up. "Damnit I hate asking anyone for help, but I just might need it". He stands up, begins to prepare himself as if he's leaving the chambers, but oddly walks to his closet. "BAAAAMF!" a loud noise and a flash of light from the closet and the smell of brimstone drifts in the room.

"Prince Grifterr, how nice of you to stop by. Are you coming to our aid in this time of dispare?" a voice asks from the shadows of a smokey old den, the Prince responds "There is no aid needed at this time, look at how productive everyone is!". The female voice replies "Productive?? The creatures of magic and the non-humans are being targeted simply for not being human, these NCO's came and atacked the Wood of the Wicker just last week!" The Prince smiles and says "Aye, but how many fine swords were forged in preparation for this battle, new armaments made, old suits of armor refitted to their bearers, fine implements of *MAGIC* brought forth" theres a dark glimmer of fire in his eyes as he excitedly speaks of how much production both sides of the conflict have achieved.

The figure steps from the shadows, the infamous assassin Yuri Bane, Guildmaster of Assassins, "So what brought you to the guild you once mastered?" The Prince smiles and pulls a crinkled up piece of parchment from a belt pouch, "Music!" he responds. She smiles and flips a wall revealing a stunning array of instruments. Yuri says "A break from conflict, music is good for the soul..." they sit, write and laugh until the early hours of morning. "Thank you so much for the help, I think we might have something here. I look forward to continuing to work on this delightful little tune." He stands and prepares to return to his tower, Yuri snaps and says "Don't forget your end of the bargain!" and with a muttered incantation and another "BAMF!" the Prince reappears in his tower, tired and weary, he will sleep through the light hours this day.

The Prime Minister feels ill

June 17: Fister sat in his study, reading the reports that were coming in left and right from all over the kingdom. Riots are still happening in some provinces, Non-Humans being captured and executed, rebellions and sneak attacks from non-humans. He tried to grasp everything that was happening, but was too weak to focus. His vitality declined day by day. He tried different tonics and magika but to no avail. He was losing his grasp on reality. The letters and paperwork stacked high on his desk, requisition forms in a jumbled pile, situational reports scattered the floor. Something was very wrong with him. He was trapped, but he didn't know it yet.

Outcome of the trial of Latilic

July 3: The courthouse at Traitor's Gate is plain, carved of local stone and embossed only with the sword of Justice and the Unblinking Eye of Namara. In the courtyard, a stone plinth stands, with a large iron cage to one side. On this morning, the form of Baron Lord Squire Latilic One-Body Grimwulff can be seen inside the cage, and the Lord Champion ascends the steps to the plinth, a rolled scroll in his hands.

"People of the Celestial Kingdom,

Know ye that this man, the landed Baron of Slaughter Creek, has been taken in battle and charged with crimes most foul. Before Namara's gaze and under Her oath, he has faced his accusers and a true judgement has been rendered.

The charges are as follows: - Sedition, in than the Accused did, with malice and foreknowledge, disobey the edict of his lawful King and led others to do the same - Treason, in that the Accused did, with malice and foreknowledge, raise up a force to resist the edict of his lawful King, and did take arms against the Crown - Conspiracy, in that the Accused did, with malice and foreknowledge, enter into agreement, pact or consultation with others both known and unknown to the Crown to foment resistance to the edict of the lawful King - Oathbreaking, in that the Accused did, with malice and foreknowledge, forgo his sworn oath unto the King of the Celestial Kingdom, which he took upon assuming the mantle of Baron

On the charge of Sedition, he is found NOT GUILTY. On the charge of Treason, he is found GUILTY On the charge of Conspiracy, he is found GUILTY On the charge of Oathbreaking, he is found GUILTY

It therefore remains for Armand De Santo, King of the Celestial Kingdom, to pronounce sentence upon him.

A full, true and complete account of the proceedings shall be published shortly."

King Armand's punishment for Latilic

July 9: (RP) "Slaughter Creek, such a fitting name for an execution". The being inside Armand DeSanto spoke to himself. Listening to the speeches made by the local leaders was entertaining. Sir Thaddigren Dentiata. Would be stepping up as the new Baron of this land and it seemed fitting that his axe should be the one to kill the traitor Latilic the soon to be former Baron of Slaughter Creek.

As the execution was beginning the crowd watched and it seemed they where enjoying the show. The NCO Sir Thad held his axe and before it was to happen, he stopped and handed it to LLuther Vailheart, the Seneschal and friend of the doomed Latilic. "To show his devotion to the cause, the newest NCO should do the duty of preforming the execution". Armand said as it happened knowing what the Anti-paladin had in mind. To the surprise of all in attendance Luther only hesitated for a second before saying "I'm sorry, my friend". The axe was dropped and a head rolled free of Latilics body, then a commotion erupted in the crowed. Armand could not see it all clearly from location he was standing but it seem there was some animal in the crowd rushing towards the stage." Selric please keep the order and handle the intruders".

After the commotion died down Armand raised his arms and smiled "Fear not good people of The Celestial Kingdom, for we have made this land safer from the Non-Registered Non-Humans that flee and hide knowing they are up to no good in your lands. They do not want to be known to you so that when they do harm they can not be found and punished"! Armand lowered his arms speaking loudly and in a serious tone he said "Let it be known that I hold the leaders of every land under the Celestial Kingdom responsible for the registration of these Unregistered Non-Humans in their lands! This is what happens to those leaders that resist the Crowns Law. ALL NCOS in each land have orders to kill on site any Unregistered Non-Humans and anyone hiding them. NCOS that show their loyalty with the upholding of these decrees will be rewarded handsomely". Armand smiled and waved as he walked back into the keep of Slaughter Creek the new home of Sir Thad the new baron on the land. They had a few things to talk about.

=The Death of Latilic

July 9: The sky over Slaughter Creek was brilliant with the warmth of the sun as the court assembled. A few of the populace were notified of awards by the regent, but the imposing figures of the King and his Champion cast a pall over the assemblage. Less than a fortnight had passed since the Baron stood before the Court of Namara and was pronounced guilty of treason, conspiracy and oathbreaking.

The King was here to render sentence. And he had not been forgiving in the past.

Latilic was brought in. Forced to kneel. The glow of enchantment still softly surrounded him. In the hands of the erstwhile Defender Sir Thaddigren, the axe of the Creek looked as dangerous as it usually was.

"Baron Latilic," intoned King Armand. "You are guilty of treason and conspiracy to commit treason. Have you anything further to say?"

Latilic looked directly at the monarch he had rejected. "The land rejects you," he spat. "Down with the king."

Armand nodded. "So be it. You are sentenced to death."

A flare of sunlight caught on the blade of the axe as it was thrust into the hands of Luther. "Do it," snarled Thaddigren to the hapless Seneschal. "Prove your loyalty."

Light flared again as Luther lifted the axe. "I am sorry, my friend," he whispered.

A snarl shocked through the silence of the assembly. 12 feet tall, furred and moving with concentrated power, the dire wolf leapt over the stunned crowd and landed beside the condemned Baron. Mighty jaws snapped down, grasping for the collar (or was it the neck) of Latilic. Flame roared from the sword of the Lord Champion as he moved to intercept the threat and the wolf flinched only slightly. But it was enough. THe jaws snapped on air. The rush of the body carried the beast past the kneeling man. And the Champion interposed himself between the tumbling form of the wolf and the Baron.

A soft word. The flame-wreathed sword whirling. Fire licked over the dire wolf. The Champion's hand reaching out and somehow *through* the body of the beast. A command in a language already old when the Celestial Kingdom began. The monster collapsed. Shrank. Became human once more. And the Champion gripped a softly struggling soul in his mailed fist. Ziana lay dead.

Again, Luther lifted the axe, this time bringing it down sharply. The keen blade sheared through the neck of Latilic, partway. The Baron froze. Enchantment writhed around him, restoring him to life, as the blood of trolls worked its restorative magic.

Domina Ellistrae stepped forward, her hand outstretched. Speaking to the magic, she rebuked it and dispelled its force. Then, in her wisdom, she released Latilic from the frozen state the enchantment had forced him into. Still bound, but now whole once more, Latilic cursed her.

"Again," roared the infuriated Thaddigren to the cowering Luther. "This time, aim better!"

Luther raised the axe for a third time, but faltered as Cywolf struck, cold steel slamming into Luther's spine. Thaddigren reached to grab the axe and complete the job, but stumbled and Cywolf laid him low in the dust. Screams were heard from the crowd and Armand bellowed at his Champion to restore order.

The revenant faced off against the mercenary. Cywolf's blade shocked against the Champion's shield and tore into the eerie glow that surrounded Selric. For a moment the Champion gave ground. Not a wound, but a definite hit.

Then the flaming blade, scything low, striking Cywolf's unprotected thigh. Flames rippled up the body. Cywolf groaned as death reached for him, and Selric caught him as he went limp in that final repose.

Just like that, the threats were ended. Four people lay dead on the stained earth. No, five. Latilic lay on his side, a smoking hole in his chest where he had caught the errant backswing of the Champion's blade in the duel.

Ellistrae knelt beside the dead Defender, intoning her prayers to Naydina. Slowly, life returned. Thaddigren pushed himself to his knees and then to his feet. Soon, Luther joined him as Ellistrae repeated the action on the dead Seneschal. With a shudder, Luther hewed the head from the dead Latilic.

Sir Thaddigren," the King spoke. "This Barony needs a new leader. One that has proven loyal, and who is not afraid to kill those that need killing. You are by far the most obvious choice. Will you serve me as Baron of Slaughter Creek?"

The Black Phoenix smiled. "With pleasure, Your Majesty."

"Then so be it." Armand raised his voice. "Behold the rewards of loyalty and the penalties of rebellion! Latilic lies dead and Thaddigren is exalted!"

He gestured to the other dead. "And gaze upon the folly of treason. Be it known henceforth that all creatures not registered are under sentence of death. Let it be known that I hold the leaders of every land under the Celestial Kingdom responsible for the registration of these Unregistered Non-Humans in their lands! This is what happens to those leaders that resist the Crowns Law. ALL NCOS in each land have orders to kill on sight any Unregistered Non-Humans and anyone hiding them. NCOS that show their loyalty with the upholding of these decrees will be rewarded handsomely."

He waved a hand. "Take these out to the fields and dump them. They do not require burial. Let the beasts of earth and the fowls of the air gorge upon them; they may as well do some good."

The Champion scooped up the head of Latilic. A courier already stood by. "This is the one exception," he said softly. "Take the head to the Traitor's Gate and place it upon a stake for all to view. Affix the notice of his crimes."

A Lich defeated

August 25: When the armies of the Celestial Kingdom arrived at the pass lead by Lirael Maerad McKrotch of Murky Waters and Duke Episode Skinrot of Griffons Keep the site was covered in low fog. The smell was very sour and the sound of shuffling coming from the fog made things very clear what was there. King Armand came to sight first, his eyes blue with magic flames, his voice boomed with magical energies. Without a word the undead came at the living! The armies were greatly outnumbered and the carnage begun. Monks chanted, Bards sang, Wizards slung spells, and the Warriors drew swords and locked shields protecting the magic users. Healers readied their spirit magic and were already receiving casualties. The battle was fierce and the waves of undead seemed to never end. The Lich inside King Armand was laughing at the defenders when he was hit with a powerful dispelling magic from Paragon Wizard Dagron and felt Armands soul start to fight back, again another dispel from Duke Episode and the weakness started to show on Armands body. The Lich knew it was in trouble but it was surrounded by the army of undead. The thing was trapped. The arrogance of the old being was so large it had never thought that such a thing could be weakened by such pitiful living creatures. Multiple dispels hit the lich at once and Armand fought hard to take over control. The blue flames started to shrink as the attackers gained ground. Finally with a huge surge the army of the living pressed forward towards the pass where the numbers of undead would mean little and they might have a chance. The battle went on for hours and finally the living pushed the undead to the pass. The healers resurrected the fallen before the Lich could turn their own into the mindless undead and kept the flow of battle constant. The refreshing songs of the bards and the humming of the monks kept the pace fierce. Another dispel on the Lich and this one made a shimmer around the body of Armand. You could see in his eyes the flames were gone and he stood there for a moment confused. Then a paladin killing undead in numbers too many to count came fighting through to the now awakened Armand. Sir Diego didn't even slow and bashed the King with his shield, the torch on the front of it alive with magic. Armand fell to the ground unconscious.

A missive from the King

September 8, 2017: Coming back to the physical plane so quickly disoriented Renjara. Regaining her center, she looked around for what had interrupted her travels. Earth, Air, Fire, and Water still stood in their places to protect her. Spirit still burned brightly, giving of a sweet lavender scent. She looked up to her mantle to discover one rune disturbed. An Omen, a message. At that moment, she heard a squawk from her kitchen window as a weary raven fell from the windowsill and landed on her familiar’s soft bed in one of her kitchen chairs. She looked and blinked. She normally did not need to rely on this form of communication to know what was going on in the world. Nonetheless, She thanked spirit first, snuffing out the purple candle in the center and carefully moving it to its place in her altar under earth. She did the same with water, fire, and Air, thanking each element in turn and taking a moment to enjoy their presence. As she came back to earth, placing the others in their places below it, she noticed the dirt kept around the candle had been disturbed. After thanking earth and snuffing out the candle, she removed from the dirt a pendant, a very interesting symbol she had studied quite a bit but did not remember placing there. Clearly, a gift from the mother herself. She set the pendant on her altar for later study and turned her attention to the raven.

The raven, it seems, had landed beak first into the plushy softness of Bella’s bed. It had been very lucky that Bella had picked that moment to be asleep on her bed in the loft. The raven, sensing her presence, fell to its side to reveal a note attached to its ankle. Renjara carefully removed it but reading it would have to wait. She prepared a small basket and carefully moved the raven into it. As she did, the raven made a small squeak before settling onto its new bed. She quickly prepared a pedestal of Sage, bazil, and peppermint leaves, crushing them together before placing them in a burning bowl and igniting them. She placed the basket next to the bowl as the smoke began to waft towards the raven. She prepared a small bowl of seeds mixed with elderberries and another with water and placed them near the raven. She returned to her altar to grab her healing stones.

As Renjara returned from her altar, Bella suddenly mewed behind her. She jumped a little as Bella hopped into her chair where the raven had just been. “Lucky you didn’t become a meal,” she said to the raven as Bella smelled her bed. The raven opened one eye and discovered its meal. It slowly began eating and drinking as she placed small chunks of Amethyst, fenster quartz and energized Black Tourmaline around the edges of the raven’s basket. The raven squawked its approval and began eating and drinking like it hadn’t done so in weeks. The noise made Bella’s ears perk up and she look as though she may try to jump to the counter. In response, Renjara placed more energized Black Tourmaline at the counter’s edge, causing her to crouch, almost hiding in her bed. “You will leave this poor bird alone, Ms. Bratticus,” she scolded and placed more stones to make sure neither Bella nor Sput would be making a snack out of the raven. “This raven is our guest, not a source of food,” She stated as she refilled the food and water bowls for when the raven would wake.

Renjara suddenly remembered the missive and picked it up from the counter. She carefully unfolded it and began to read: “His Majesty, King Armand of the Celestial Kingdom requires your presence in the throne room ASAP.” She looked over at the raven, which now appeared to be in a food coma. She had been expecting a call since word had reached her of Fister’s sickness but was surprised it happened so quickly. She stirred the healing herbs, bringing the sparks back to life just enough to make more smoke as she pondered what he might need. Her mind drifted back to the pendant she had found. A wegvisir. No one needed a way marker more than the King. In any case, it was too late to heed this call today. In the morning, she would ride. She began making her preparations and packed the amulet in her satchel.

A Summons Answered

September 9:Renjara dismounted and grabbed the pendant and the raven in its basket from her saddle bags. She thanked the stable boy and tipped him some coin before making her way to the throne room. The guards at the keep door seemed to be expecting her and rushed her into the throne room, telling her “The King will be with you momentarily” before slamming the heavy doors behind them. It was nearly noon but there was not yet any sign of him. She looked around. The marks of age were beginning to show on the walls in the throne room. With the exception of a few chaos stars, the throne room was devoid of its usual decorative charms.

Renjara approached the empty throne and placed the raven in its basket on the stand by its side before stepping back to the main floor. As she stepped off the last step, the door behind the throne crept open and out stepped a very haggard looking Armand. He looked as though he had aged centuries in the few days since she had seen him but his eyes were more alive than they had been in a long time. Gone was the evil smirk that had clouded them just weeks before. Finishing her step, she kneeled as King Armand made his way to his throne. After sitting, Armand took a moment to catch his breath. He observed his raven, who was now finishing the meal which had been packed with him, in his cozy basket and smiled.

“I see you took good care of my messenger,” said Armand, turning his attention to Renjara. “I hope you will take just as good of care of our Kingdom’s records.” Renjara looked up at him questioningly. “Fister has taken ill and is no longer able to complete the task. It seems the magic of my former captor has taken a very deep hold on him and by all accounts, I am told he will likely slip away soon.”

“I knew this was coming,” Renjara said. “I wish it were better news. I will do my best to give honor to the station you are giving me.” Renjara pulled the wegvisir pendant from her satchel and looked at it for a moment. “I received this yesterday about the same time your messenger appeared. I think it is meant for you, to aid in your recovery and show you the way forward. May I bring it to you?”

“My apologies, yes. Please rise.” Said Armand quickly. “I sometimes forget the formalities of my station.”

Renjara stood, walked up the steps and handed him the pendant. “May this way staff give you direction and protection.”

“Many thanks, Lady Renjara,” Armand stated as he took the pendant. “This will go quite well with my chaos stars, I’d imagine.” He placed it upon his chest. “Now then, there are other matters to discuss. Please, have a seat.” He motioned to one of the chairs near him.

“Since I have been relieved of my captor, I no longer wish for such division within the Kingdom. The lich has done a great deal of damage with the registration act and I believe it is now time to end it and rebuild from it. Please send word to each province that there will no longer be NCO’s or required registrations. Those who were murdered shall be resurrected if possible. Those whom have been hurt shall be healed. It is time to rebuild, unite and heal from the divisions which have scarred us. The good people of this kingdom have freed me from my captor and I, in turn, hope to help them in this journey. For now, send word that the bloodshed in my name shall end."
"I shall prepare the missives at once."
"You are dismissed," Armand nodded.

When she had nearly reached the door, Renjara turned back to the King. "Dont worry too much about Fister," she said while removing a bag of herbs, crystals and potions from her pack. "He should be just fine come morning." She left without waiting for a reply.