Narrator posted:

September 26th, 1440 A.E., Moagim's camp in the Nornpass



As the rain fell upon the quieted battlefield, a great sorrow befell the ranks. The Emperor of the Cath Bruig, their beloved Emperor Leitrim lay dead-struck down by Moagim's blade.

A mournful gathering formed around the Emperor's body. Damas and Connacht knelt at his side, saying soft prayers in his honor. In a nearby grove of trees, Connacht and Damas laid the Emperor to rest. Damas, holding the Emperor's royal sword, set it down gently upon his chest. A line of Heron Guard made their way to their fallen Emperor. Each in turn snatched off their crane-emblazoned pendants and laid them upon the sword. Their lives now became devoted to one thing: the death of he who murdered their lord.

Through all their confrontations and arguments, Connacht had learned great respected for the Emperor. Even with all the knowledge he had gained from Mazzarin's Codex, he muttered to himself, "This was not written of."



They returned to the ruined encampment in the light of the spreading dawn. Connacht assembled the remains of the army and bid them to avenge the death of their Emperor. To the man, each offered his sword to the task. Even the wounded and incapacitated volunteered, but Connacht chose only a few battle-hardened survivors to accompany him.

Before the sun cleared the eastern ground, they were underway. Connacht, Damas, the Heron Guard, and a handful of veterans climbed the treacherous Nornpass with the fire of vengeance in burning in their hearts.