Our Steel! Our Blood! Our Souls!
That is the cry of The Barrow Hounds. The children of common Bordevar who have taken the fight to Draemoor. Who have pledged their lives to take back a Duchy of Royal Bordevar on behalf of The Concord, without the presence of an army. They have shed blood, they have forged loyalties, and they have gained and lost so much more than any could have imagined.
But their tale is not yet over. Their saga is not yet sung. Their souls still beat within their chest, like a hammer upon a burning anvil.
Will the tale end in sorrow and heartbreak? Broken steel, poisoned blood and fallen souls?
Is there any other way it could end?
A Bark Just as Strong as It’s Bite
“Another scout has confirmed the reports, Ser. The General has begun counter attacks, but refuses to commit her entire army.”
The armoured Knight stood in the busy command tent, seemingly unbothered by the hustle and bustle around him. Like a gallantly stoic stone stuck in the middle of an ever-flowing rapids, simply content to speak to the clearly stressed man facing him across the map table. It was this strained man, armoured in a simple chain hauberk and war belt, that spoke next.
“It begins then, Ser Kerwin. Fighting has already been dirty, but it's about to get a whole lot fucken’ bloodier. Are the heroes out and about yet?”
“So far as I have seen. The Quartermaster is sending them out with various smaller groups of Hounds. Their numbers and expertise will be mighty helpful, I would think.”
“Aye, that much I am damn thankful for. Without support we lose here. This garrison- Klein Garrison the Sheriff told us to name it- will hold well enough, but I am worried about our Crownlands Outpost. Ser Kerwin, would you be a damn delight and man it for me? If they are going to make anywhere our biggest problem, it would be there.”
The responding smile was gracious, almost kind if it were not raised at the concept of blooding a foe.
“That much, I can do, oh Houndsmaster.”
The tense man winced at the new founded nickname. It was not one he wanted, but it was one he had earned. What was once a council of similar-minded folk had quickly turned to what it needed; a figurehead that could lead. While the head itself had no real choice in the manner, no matter how much he complained about the chafes of unintended autocracy, he still managed his duty and carried on. That was his damn job, after all.
“Fuck right off, Kerwin. Get on then, I am sure you would love-” A runner slammed a letter down on the table, clearly well worn from being read a few times more than once or twice by many different hands with many different ideas of "clean."
“Ser Wendel! Missive from home for you. The Duke of Starscar has granted you a Castle!”
“THEY FUCKING WHA-”
-=-=-=-
The Champion of the Dark drew his gore-soaked blade free of the husk that had temporarily become its sheathe. He knelt, blade turned sideways, and raised it high above his head in supplication to a God he knew would hear.
“Onyx Heart. Feast upon this gift. Grant me nothing save the knowledge that I have brought your teachings one step further. I pledge my service once more. I pledge my fealty once more. Praise Be, Mother of the Dark.”
His muttered prayer would fall upon the ears of the dead, both moving and still. He stood, sheathed his blade and refit his shield to his arm, surveying the carnage of his making. He stood amongst fifteen corpses, all wearing the common trappings of Bordevarian citizenry. They had shouted some cry, something about blood and steel and souls.
Leofric chuckled to himself as he waved over his shackled necromancer. He was grateful for the gift of their bodies, to replenish his stock.
He was grateful for the chance to burn these gifted souls, that they may suffer forever under the power of his newfound Faith.
-=-=-=-
The Barrow Hounds, once again greatly supported by Concordian resources and efforts, continue the fight in Draemoor. Thanks to the efforts of the Sheriff of Arbington, there now stands a fortified garrison halfway between the border of Starscar and the edges of Bloodmarsh, in addition to a scout outpost bordering The Crownlands. This infrastructure would prove pivotal in the months to come, allowing both Barrow Hound forces and Concordian heroic forces to rest and resupply within enemy territory.
The garrison would come to be called Klein Garrison, by request of the Sheriff. For most, this meant very little. For some, it was sure to mean a lot.
The fighting over the Season, while aided by the presence of a place to return to, would be no less bloody. To call it anything other than dangerous would be to spit on the memories of those that died. And there would be so many.
The Barrow Hounds, en masse, are no trained force. There are experienced fighters among them, with more being produced through the fires of battles, but for every veteran Billmonger there was a fresh farm kid who simply wanted to fight for a good cause. The Barrow Hounds entered Draemoor with around two thousand Bordevarians looking for blood. Heroes of The Concord arrived with roughly the same number behind them. New four thousand total fighters, raiding and pillaging across Draemoor, aiming to isolate Bloodmarsh and prepare it for a true assault.
One would think these numbers would be enough on their own, and maybe it would have been if it weren’t for the actions of the enemy. The General, a military leader of The Aristocracy, would meet the skirmish tactics of The Concord with her own. And hers did not care for loss of life. Hers did not leave room for grief over the energetic farm kid. She may not have committed her Army to the fighting, but it seems she perhaps had no need to.
Bloodmarsh lies just out of reach. Hundreds of Bordevarians lay dead beneath the mud. Countless undead the same.
But still, the fighting rolls on.
Game Information
With The Klein Garrison now built, alongside a scouting outpost near The Crownlands border, The Barrow Hounds focus their efforts on insurgent actions throughout the duchy. While The Barrow Hounds have had great success alongside heroic support, the fighting in Draemoor is no less dangerous and no less bloody, and Bloodmarsh remains just out of reach for a Season longer. The following Character’s Investments have been notably damaged, but all Characters are encouraged to tell stories of harsh skirmishes against Aristocracy forces;
- Alteon Greenguard
- Finnegan Dulse
- William Roderick
- Belmont Johnson
There will be further information regarding The General’s forces made available to Characters who fought alongside The Barrow Hounds.
There will be a Skirmish this coming Summit to assist Ser Kerwin in holding The Crownlands Outpost. The Conflux will be available to 20 Bordevarian Characters, and should be expected to be Low Accessibility, Moderate Danger, and Moderate to High Intensity. The responsible party for this Conflux will be the Sheriff of Arbington, who will receive more information at the coming Summit. It is known that a Traitor of Avalon will be present.
There will be information or opportunities regarding The Barrow Hound’s presence in Draemoor for The Banneret of the First Banner, The Brigadier of the Iron Brawlers, and The Champion of the King.
Chained and Kennelled, Lest They Find Some Other Home
“Pleased to meet you, Ser Wendel. My name is Lyore, and it would be my pleasure to show you around The Roost.”
The Aviarist wore a genuinely pleasant smile, and seemed to show no sign of hidden grudge nor angst about the situation. Wendel, still clothed in his (now even dirtier) chain hauberk, looked about. The Roost was undergoing some kind of construction, but it was no small Fort. Tall spires that favoured its focus on the avian, but plenty of battlements that can be held by archers and mages. Wendel sighed.
“Pleasure’s mine, Lyore. I can’t stay long, what with the fighting in Draemoor, but I was told I had to come and oversee our moving in. Apparently, our little council of Knights have pushed me well up above them, so in my newfound command I am responsible for…. Well everything.”
Lyore stood listening politely, her head cocked slightly to the side in interest, like one of the very birds she cared for. Wendel sighed again.
“We have no banners nor colours to fly. Kind of the point of our little mob. As much as I didn’t ask to be given this Fort, it’s ours now and it's important to treat it right. Your people are welcome to stay, Spheres’ I’d be grateful if they did. The more the merrier, and they know this place already. But those that do need to know what they are joining up for. No colours. No banners. No sigil to call ours.”
Wendel’s gaze settled directly against Lyore’s, and she could tell that this was what must pass for a test. She chuckled, which clearly surprised Wendel.
“Oh that doesn’t bother us one bit, Ser. Take down all the banners, so long as the birds are singing and you keep them, and us, fed? Well then we will happily call ourselves Hounds. Would you like me to bark?”
Wendel the Brigand was so stunned that he nearly forgot to laugh at the simply outrageous comment that Lyore chose to tease him with.
“We will get along just fine, Aviarist. Alright, show me the heights and let's work together to make this place our home.”
With a mock half-bow, Lyore replied “As you wish, Houndsmaster.”
-=-=-=-
Once a simple gathering of like-minded individuals with a grudge to hold and steel in hand, The Barrow Hounds have evolved into a martial organisation that simply cannot be ignored. With their focus entirely on the taking of Draemoor, their presence in Weiland has been one of infamy, renown and recruitment. They have been a fire within the souls of Commonfolk, representing a future of greatness and glory that could be earned outside the rigidity of a Brigade or Banner.
For some, this was enough. Sure, fighting for the Army gets you paid, but fighting for The Barrow Hounds gets you known. It gets you a feeling in your chest. It gets you a chance to take the fight to the enemy, no matter what the stiffs in The Warchamber think. For better or worse, it gives the everyman an opportunity to fight for a cause of their own choosing, or at the very least the chance to die for one.
The Barrow Hounds have grown. They are no longer simply a large gang with a goal. They march into Draemoor with two thousand combatants alone, before Heroic support. This may not be enough to consider themselves an Army, but they represent the foundation of one. This is strength in and of itself, and if it is a strength that The Barrow Hounds choose to harness against the enemy, then all for the better.
But there are those who ask, what happens after? Should The Barrow Hounds succeed in Draemoor, what will they become? Will their number simply go back home, or settle in their blooded Duchy? It is possible, certainly. But it is also possible that they turn their attention elsewhere. That they demand more rewards for their actions. That they hold their influence and sway as a hammer against the helpless anvil that is Bordevar. What then?
Such a fear simmers below the surface, but with the gifting of an entire Border Fort to The Barrow Hounds, simmering may no longer be enough for those that carry the burden within their hearts. Something will need to be done.
The Barrow Hounds are an organisation with purpose, yet they carry no colours and no sigils, and have no backing. No Knightly Order nor Noble House. This works in their favour for now, but eventually it may work against them. It may turn the concerned of Bordevar away from their cause.
But that is a fear that has not yet come to fruition. In the meantime, so long as they continue to fight and win in Draemoor, it is simply enough that they exist. Victory carries weight.
Defeat would weigh heavier again.
Game Information
The Barrow Hounds have been granted control of Peregrine’s Roost by the order of Duke Wynters of Starscar and supported by Duchess Eldermere of Everguarde, renaming it appropriately to Barrow’s Roost. They are expected to man the Border Fort alongside those of The Roost that elect to stay, performing all martial defensive tasks as ordered by The Champion when the time comes. How Barrow’s Roost will evolve, and what broader impact this will have on Bordevar, remains to be seen. With the fighting in Draemoor, it is clearly not a priority for The Barrow Hounds at this very moment.
Regardless, such a big occasion has caused both loud agreement and dissent from various parties within Weiland. Some believe that The Barrow Hounds have earned their right to The Fort, while others believe it is simply rewarding the actions of bloodthirsty actors. There will be more information and opportunities to address these concerns for The Senator of Weiland, The Duke of Starscar, The Sheriff of Arbington, The Champion of the King, and The Royal Ranger. Other Bordevarian Titles may receive information, but it is not guaranteed.
Commonfolk may opt to be affected by the following roleplay prompt:
Work hard and reap the rewards. If you put in the effort, you WILL be rewarded. Sometimes that effort comes at the cost of blood and steel, but you’ll be damned if you don’t try anyways.
