Written By Cara
Feb. 15, 2017, 9:14 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Vincere
This is not a journal of what has been. It is a journal of what will not be; if you are a scholar, turn away, for there is nothing here but dreams.
My love, this is for you. You are beyond reading it, I know, but I write it nevertheless.
It should have been our life.
I see the library you built for me, with the volumes ordered just so, and the way we never could quite agree on just how to sort them. By topic or by author? By age? Never the medicinals with the herbals, those belong with botany. Books stacked on the desk, waiting to be returned home, half interrupted and places marked where we were distracted with one another and left unfinished.
In the garden, Pietro's ridiculous gnomes have multiplied, and he and I hide them to distract and annoy you, because the frown you make when you are exasperated with us is adorable.
The fire dies low and we are too comfortable on your study's couch to rise and go to bed properly. I rest my head on your shoulder and whisper when I want you to turn the page of whatever it is we read together.
The children, running and tumbling through the halls, chased by their uncle -- until you poke your head from your study to give them a look and quiet them. At least until they are out of view.
Lazy mornings, broken by little whispers wondering, "Are they up yet? No, you wake them."
Silver hair and lines at the corners of your eyes, hands that ache in the cold, still strong enough to hold mine.
It should have been our life, my dearest.
Perhaps -- perhaps, we will meet again, and I pray for all the gods' grace that next time, we will have our time.
My love, this is for you. You are beyond reading it, I know, but I write it nevertheless.
It should have been our life.
I see the library you built for me, with the volumes ordered just so, and the way we never could quite agree on just how to sort them. By topic or by author? By age? Never the medicinals with the herbals, those belong with botany. Books stacked on the desk, waiting to be returned home, half interrupted and places marked where we were distracted with one another and left unfinished.
In the garden, Pietro's ridiculous gnomes have multiplied, and he and I hide them to distract and annoy you, because the frown you make when you are exasperated with us is adorable.
The fire dies low and we are too comfortable on your study's couch to rise and go to bed properly. I rest my head on your shoulder and whisper when I want you to turn the page of whatever it is we read together.
The children, running and tumbling through the halls, chased by their uncle -- until you poke your head from your study to give them a look and quiet them. At least until they are out of view.
Lazy mornings, broken by little whispers wondering, "Are they up yet? No, you wake them."
Silver hair and lines at the corners of your eyes, hands that ache in the cold, still strong enough to hold mine.
It should have been our life, my dearest.
Perhaps -- perhaps, we will meet again, and I pray for all the gods' grace that next time, we will have our time.
Written By Ainsley
Feb. 15, 2017, 9:11 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
I thought that I knew what it felt to feel love.
Then I met Pietro Igniseri, and I realized that everything I thought I knew about love was wrong. From someone I expected to hate no less. He came to me all smiles and energy when I was frustrated and angry. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment that I loved him. Perhaps it was when he knocked me onto my ass in the sands. Perhaps it was when he cared enough to follow after I stormed out like an angry youth. Maybe it was the first time he smiled. Maybe it was his ridiculous messages. Maybe--
Maybe one day I will look back and I will find the moment. I will be able to say: "Pietro Igniseri stole my heart in this moment". Maybe I will not.
My chest is hollow now, that love is gone. Pietro took it with him.
The numbness is beginning to wear off and in its place a rage is building. My love was taken from me and his body is not even in Arx for proper burial. I will see it returned. I will see him home.
Then, I will see the one responsible for taking him from me punished.
By the gods, I will not stop until Tolomar Brand is brought low.
Then I met Pietro Igniseri, and I realized that everything I thought I knew about love was wrong. From someone I expected to hate no less. He came to me all smiles and energy when I was frustrated and angry. I cannot pinpoint the exact moment that I loved him. Perhaps it was when he knocked me onto my ass in the sands. Perhaps it was when he cared enough to follow after I stormed out like an angry youth. Maybe it was the first time he smiled. Maybe it was his ridiculous messages. Maybe--
Maybe one day I will look back and I will find the moment. I will be able to say: "Pietro Igniseri stole my heart in this moment". Maybe I will not.
My chest is hollow now, that love is gone. Pietro took it with him.
The numbness is beginning to wear off and in its place a rage is building. My love was taken from me and his body is not even in Arx for proper burial. I will see it returned. I will see him home.
Then, I will see the one responsible for taking him from me punished.
By the gods, I will not stop until Tolomar Brand is brought low.
Written By Jasher
Feb. 15, 2017, 7:51 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Leading up to and during the battle against the Bringers and shavs, I was patrolling the coast. On at least five occasions, I came across groups of Abandoned trying to join up with the larger group. I could identify most of them as having come from the Mourning Isles. Why? Just to fight against the Compact or has someone been recruiting them somehow? Were they promised something?
Written By Jasher
Feb. 15, 2017, 7:41 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Aleksei
Who knew that someone who looks like he thinks with his sword - either of them - could actually think? And hold a conversation? He'd make a good agent for the House.
Written By Valkieri
Feb. 15, 2017, 6:31 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Pietro
I was angrier at Pietro more often than I was happy with him. He was ceaselessly and aggravatingly energetic. He had a dog that I freely despised and barred from ever setting foot inside the Palazzo Gemecitta. The dog was -- is, remains -- just like Pietro: exuberant. Prone to inappropriate displays of public affection. Stupidly obnoxious.
I perhaps told Pietro to be quiet more often than I said hello to him. There barely existed a word in his brain that he did not speak aloud. I honestly believed the gods took all of his restraint and composure and poured it instead into reckless bravery and fierce, unyielding devotion.
I did not always like Pietro, but I always loved him. He was as much my brother as Zaccheri was.
Fitting, perhaps, because now they both are dead.
Once, when we were all young, some cousins made the mistake of teasing my sister in front of Pietro. He thoroughly thrashed the lot of them. It marked him, then and forever, as a champion of my family. He wished for more duels than Vincere's voice in his ear would allow him to face; he was never happier than he was when defending the honor of those he loved. It was maddening much of the time. But it meant I have never, not once in my life, doubted him. Pietro was my sword wherever I could not reach.
Every time I called, he came. And he was always first to heed the call.
I perhaps told Pietro to be quiet more often than I said hello to him. There barely existed a word in his brain that he did not speak aloud. I honestly believed the gods took all of his restraint and composure and poured it instead into reckless bravery and fierce, unyielding devotion.
I did not always like Pietro, but I always loved him. He was as much my brother as Zaccheri was.
Fitting, perhaps, because now they both are dead.
Once, when we were all young, some cousins made the mistake of teasing my sister in front of Pietro. He thoroughly thrashed the lot of them. It marked him, then and forever, as a champion of my family. He wished for more duels than Vincere's voice in his ear would allow him to face; he was never happier than he was when defending the honor of those he loved. It was maddening much of the time. But it meant I have never, not once in my life, doubted him. Pietro was my sword wherever I could not reach.
Every time I called, he came. And he was always first to heed the call.
Written By Valkieri
Feb. 15, 2017, 6:18 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Vincere
I have loved two people in my life. The first was Vincere Igniseri.
When we were boys, I spent hours of every day trying to turn his attention to me. I burned bright and desperate with the sort of intensity that is only truly possible in youth. I threw myself in his path beyond all sense of decorum or respectability until I could claim him as mine.
Vincere was the cleverest man in any room he was in. He saw farther and more shrewdly than anyone else I have known. And he wore his duty with a steadiness that I viciously envied. When his attentions turned to my sister -- years after any romantic connexion between us had run its course -- I was still violently -- ungraciously -- jealous. It took weeks -- months, really -- to see beyond my own selfishness to the truth that laid beyond. How suited they were. How fiercely in love. How they healed parts of each other. How they had a chance for happiness that neither of them expected to have.
Vincere served everyone with ceaseless diligence. He served House Igniseri, he served Houses Rubino and Zaffria, he served House Velenosa, and he served the Crown. When he was publicly shamed and humiliated for his service by the High Council in front of his peers, he offered no reply but patience. Duty. Honor. When others asked for a public apology on his behalf and were refused, Vincere simply collected volume upon volume with his work as Minister of Defense to present to the Crown so that the Ministry's function might continue uninterrupted. When the Council failed to honor his resignation for weeks, he served until such a time as he could be replaced.
Duty. Honor. Patience.
There is no replacement in the world for Vincere Igniseri. He should have been born far higher than he was, for he was the sort of man capable of leading the Compact itself.
He was my vassal, but I would have served him as my liege.
When we were boys, I spent hours of every day trying to turn his attention to me. I burned bright and desperate with the sort of intensity that is only truly possible in youth. I threw myself in his path beyond all sense of decorum or respectability until I could claim him as mine.
Vincere was the cleverest man in any room he was in. He saw farther and more shrewdly than anyone else I have known. And he wore his duty with a steadiness that I viciously envied. When his attentions turned to my sister -- years after any romantic connexion between us had run its course -- I was still violently -- ungraciously -- jealous. It took weeks -- months, really -- to see beyond my own selfishness to the truth that laid beyond. How suited they were. How fiercely in love. How they healed parts of each other. How they had a chance for happiness that neither of them expected to have.
Vincere served everyone with ceaseless diligence. He served House Igniseri, he served Houses Rubino and Zaffria, he served House Velenosa, and he served the Crown. When he was publicly shamed and humiliated for his service by the High Council in front of his peers, he offered no reply but patience. Duty. Honor. When others asked for a public apology on his behalf and were refused, Vincere simply collected volume upon volume with his work as Minister of Defense to present to the Crown so that the Ministry's function might continue uninterrupted. When the Council failed to honor his resignation for weeks, he served until such a time as he could be replaced.
Duty. Honor. Patience.
There is no replacement in the world for Vincere Igniseri. He should have been born far higher than he was, for he was the sort of man capable of leading the Compact itself.
He was my vassal, but I would have served him as my liege.
Written By Valkieri
Feb. 15, 2017, 5:51 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Marquis Vincere Igniseri and Lord Pietro Igniseri were the best men that I have ever known.
They came to Quartz Hill to foster with House Rubino when they were thirteen, and we grew from boys to men side by side. We learned leadership and stewardship, swordfighting and warfare, etiquette and diplomacy. Together we were shaped into the nobles that would serve at the whim of our houses. I was never expected to lead my house, and Vincere was never expected to lead so early, but duty is a constant weight on the shoulders of every noble.
It is intolerable to me to seem them reduced to words on a page. There are no words to fully encompass the sort of men they are. I have torn up page after page in my attempts to distill my grief into some sort of memorial. They deserve more. They deserve everything.
They deserved to live.
I do not care what decorum requires of me in this moment. I will force the memory of these two men into the consciousness of Arvum until every single person understands their loss. I will see the Bringers crushed beneath our feet and Tolomar Brand reduced to ash.
I will see them all burn.
They came to Quartz Hill to foster with House Rubino when they were thirteen, and we grew from boys to men side by side. We learned leadership and stewardship, swordfighting and warfare, etiquette and diplomacy. Together we were shaped into the nobles that would serve at the whim of our houses. I was never expected to lead my house, and Vincere was never expected to lead so early, but duty is a constant weight on the shoulders of every noble.
It is intolerable to me to seem them reduced to words on a page. There are no words to fully encompass the sort of men they are. I have torn up page after page in my attempts to distill my grief into some sort of memorial. They deserve more. They deserve everything.
They deserved to live.
I do not care what decorum requires of me in this moment. I will force the memory of these two men into the consciousness of Arvum until every single person understands their loss. I will see the Bringers crushed beneath our feet and Tolomar Brand reduced to ash.
I will see them all burn.
Written By Caelis
Feb. 15, 2017, 4:43 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Family dinner was wonderful, to see so many lively faces and bright spirits was warming. Being among kin with the darkness on the horizon is just the remedy I needed to keep my spirits bolstered. I am saddened by the deaths of those who fought with my family and did not return, but it inspires us all to ensure those deaths do not go unanswered by our hands. There is much to consider and prepare for.
May your hopes find safe harbors.
May your hopes find safe harbors.
Written By Cassius
Feb. 15, 2017, 4:37 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
The advanced training given to the Knights of Solace proved quite successful in the Battle of Pridehall.
If any commanders are unaware of these tactics, please contact Father Orazio to request support. The Knights stand ready to aid the forces of the Compact, always.
Duke Cassius Pravus, KoS
If any commanders are unaware of these tactics, please contact Father Orazio to request support. The Knights stand ready to aid the forces of the Compact, always.
Duke Cassius Pravus, KoS
Written By Eirene
Feb. 15, 2017, 4:18 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Nadia
As I said last night...
Duchess Nadia Nightgold made the North look as glamours as the South.
That's saying a lot coming from a fucking slob like me. I'll miss the spa days...
Every death will drive us harder to defend the living. May hers be no different, and may the living be worthy of her sacrifice.
Duchess Nadia Nightgold made the North look as glamours as the South.
That's saying a lot coming from a fucking slob like me. I'll miss the spa days...
Every death will drive us harder to defend the living. May hers be no different, and may the living be worthy of her sacrifice.
Written By Calandra
Feb. 15, 2017, 1:34 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Acacia has returned.
I am so happy to have my sister near me.
I feel more compete with her close by.
It is scary times we are facing, but I feel more able to face them with my family close.
My brave and whisper spitfire sister, Acacia.
My hardworking and leading Uncle, Torian
My adorable and witty cousin, Mae
My strong and loyal Uncle, Orathy
The Cullers are together.
In the lower boroughs.
We will make sure it survives this all.
I am so happy to have my sister near me.
I feel more compete with her close by.
It is scary times we are facing, but I feel more able to face them with my family close.
My brave and whisper spitfire sister, Acacia.
My hardworking and leading Uncle, Torian
My adorable and witty cousin, Mae
My strong and loyal Uncle, Orathy
The Cullers are together.
In the lower boroughs.
We will make sure it survives this all.
Written By Leona
Feb. 15, 2017, 1:22 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Gabriel
A serious man, he just led a successful campaign against the Bringers of Silence. He did not stop them in entirety - it will take more than his forces to do that - but his forces survived the first engagement, at least. He is a good man, dedicated to the defense of Arx and Arvum, and now more than ever I think his steady, serious hand is both necessary and wise. Let us hope that some of the issues he faces are resolved, and soon.
Written By Juliet
Feb. 15, 2017, 1:07 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Nadia
Life makes fools of us all. We were so busy, darling.
But we found time, didn't we? At last.
I didn't know then, it would be goodbye.
But I'll cherish the memory.
They said you died bravely, defending your forces. Defending our lands.
They said your hair was pristine.
Good.
But we found time, didn't we? At last.
I didn't know then, it would be goodbye.
But I'll cherish the memory.
They said you died bravely, defending your forces. Defending our lands.
They said your hair was pristine.
Good.
Written By Freja
Feb. 15, 2017, 12:47 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Nadia
We may have not always seen eye to eye, but a soldier's death is an honorable one. May the Spirits keep and guide you, Duchess.
Written By Freja
Feb. 15, 2017, 12:25 p.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
-Gray Forest Ghost and Battle of Pridehall-
I've been 'instructed' that I am to keep a better record of things, at least martially speaking.
A few weeks prior to the Battle of Pridehall - left while the city slept, albeit bruised and bearing marks from a previous day/night of rigorous training. Saddle sore has a whole new meaning to me now.
I took the paths skirting the mountains, up towards Whitehold, pushing up into the Northern snows and then back down again to press any remaining Shavs out of hiding from that direction.
Well, I found myself playing the cat and mouse games I earned a reputation for back home in the North.
I had picked off dozens of their sentries before a force of two thousand shavs was sent to search for me.
Two. Thousand.
Sadly, or rather hilariously, it was ineffective and they only ever found the bodies - some of them cheekily arranged around a stump as if at a game of dice. A gal has to get her kicks while freezing her ass off, doesn't she? Apparently, they have taken to calling me the Ghost of the Gray Forest for this, ha! Scout of the Snows, Gray Forest Ghost? I wonder what other monikers I can collect in varying territories.
When that business was done, the two thousand shav force distracted and broken off from the main contingent, we moved to join the Battle of Pridehall. We kept to the outskirts, picking off the wanderers and those trying to creep up on the lines.
When the hammer of the Oathlands and Thraxians hit from the rear, we joined in the Redrain force that hit from the north.
The snow has thawed, and how grand it feels to have direction again.
I've been 'instructed' that I am to keep a better record of things, at least martially speaking.
A few weeks prior to the Battle of Pridehall - left while the city slept, albeit bruised and bearing marks from a previous day/night of rigorous training. Saddle sore has a whole new meaning to me now.
I took the paths skirting the mountains, up towards Whitehold, pushing up into the Northern snows and then back down again to press any remaining Shavs out of hiding from that direction.
Well, I found myself playing the cat and mouse games I earned a reputation for back home in the North.
I had picked off dozens of their sentries before a force of two thousand shavs was sent to search for me.
Two. Thousand.
Sadly, or rather hilariously, it was ineffective and they only ever found the bodies - some of them cheekily arranged around a stump as if at a game of dice. A gal has to get her kicks while freezing her ass off, doesn't she? Apparently, they have taken to calling me the Ghost of the Gray Forest for this, ha! Scout of the Snows, Gray Forest Ghost? I wonder what other monikers I can collect in varying territories.
When that business was done, the two thousand shav force distracted and broken off from the main contingent, we moved to join the Battle of Pridehall. We kept to the outskirts, picking off the wanderers and those trying to creep up on the lines.
When the hammer of the Oathlands and Thraxians hit from the rear, we joined in the Redrain force that hit from the north.
The snow has thawed, and how grand it feels to have direction again.
Written By Max
Feb. 15, 2017, 11:35 a.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Nadia was my friend.
I will miss her.
Tears in our wakes.
Never at our wakes.
I will miss her.
Tears in our wakes.
Never at our wakes.
Written By Reese
Feb. 15, 2017, 11:13 a.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
I fought in the latest battle.
I lead a charge that went well.
I survived.
Nadia of the rose-gold did not.
I don't have a dress for her funeral.
But Lord Rook said he would find me one.
I wil miss her.
We will miss her.
Compact will miss her.
I wish there was no memorials.
I wish she lived.
But she did not.
And we must continue on.
The Bringers are coming.
I lead a charge that went well.
I survived.
Nadia of the rose-gold did not.
I don't have a dress for her funeral.
But Lord Rook said he would find me one.
I wil miss her.
We will miss her.
Compact will miss her.
I wish there was no memorials.
I wish she lived.
But she did not.
And we must continue on.
The Bringers are coming.
Written By Lydia
Feb. 15, 2017, 10:36 a.m.(12/6/1005 AR)
Relationship Note on Nadia
I left one world and came back to another.
I left Arx a few days ago with a band of other Northerners to try to treat with the Shavs and win us new allies in the desperate fight that we now find ourselves in. I had little that I was authorized to give them at that point, but still, the negotiations went well. I turned back to Arx with a hopeful heart at what might come in another round of negotiations or two.
My hopes, however, were dashed as soon as I entered the city gates and found myself ambushed by messengers all bearing the distressing news of my sister's death. I wish I could write of the feelings in my heart, I cannot. They are too complex and are opaque even to me. I cannot sort through them, I just know that I cannot smile and I cannot feel any levity, and the house feels hollow and empty whenever I walk through its front door.
I left Arx a few days ago with a band of other Northerners to try to treat with the Shavs and win us new allies in the desperate fight that we now find ourselves in. I had little that I was authorized to give them at that point, but still, the negotiations went well. I turned back to Arx with a hopeful heart at what might come in another round of negotiations or two.
My hopes, however, were dashed as soon as I entered the city gates and found myself ambushed by messengers all bearing the distressing news of my sister's death. I wish I could write of the feelings in my heart, I cannot. They are too complex and are opaque even to me. I cannot sort through them, I just know that I cannot smile and I cannot feel any levity, and the house feels hollow and empty whenever I walk through its front door.
Written By Halsim
Feb. 15, 2017, 6:43 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
It's strange.
You'd think that whatever process turns those things that attacked us in Pridehall would make them more or less the same.
Yet when I examined the bodies, both the horde and the Bringers themselves were in various states or living or dead.
Half that army was living, and half of it was dead, when it attacked us. Why?
You'd think that whatever process turns those things that attacked us in Pridehall would make them more or less the same.
Yet when I examined the bodies, both the horde and the Bringers themselves were in various states or living or dead.
Half that army was living, and half of it was dead, when it attacked us. Why?
Written By Max
Feb. 15, 2017, 6:41 a.m.(12/5/1005 AR)
Yes. I was in the Battle of Pride Hall.
Yes. I fought.
No. I did not bring down a bringer this time. My role in this battle was not frontline combat.
The military of the Darkwater are rarely frontline combat. We are a raiding force, a scouting force.
We do not wear the heavy armor and we do not sail the heavy ships. Some ships, like my Flag, the Damnation, are bigger and stronger by design, but most of our ships are light and easy, made for fast transit and hitting quick. Our men are the same.
Someone asked me what it was I did, if I wasn't on the front line. I didn't answer him. Not directly. I was not sure I could choke the frustration out of my voice and not end up beating the man senseless.
But here, I will explain what Darkwater did for Greyson and Pridehall. What we did, and continue to do, for the Compact.
My forces are scouts. Fast scouts. Riverine and forest, we know how to move and what we are looking for. Our scouts on the rivers found the camps and marching trails the Shavs were using. We found them early, nearly a week before the Battle of Pridehall. We found them much further west and... much farther past Bastion than expected. This in turn allowed the Ignisari to investigate in force, and as many know, their actions lead to the main battle.
Darkwater Forces did their part, in locating our enemy and denying them the chance to fully flank us, to give our forces the chance to respond and take the aggressive initiative. But songs do not get sung of brave scouts or spies.
When the scouting was done, what did Darkwater do then?
Darkwater did what Darkwater does. This is where Black Mountain came in. Black Mountain moves on Darkwater Ships for the most part. We took action, good action. We had stockpiled goods for the battle and we ran ship after ship after ship after ship of supplies to Pride Hall.
The leather strap that you needed replaced so that your breastplate did not come off? Came on a Darkwater Ship.
The stew in your bowl that kept your belly fed? Came on a Darkwater ship.
The shovel you dug the latrine with to keep your camp from disease? Came on a Darkwater ship.
The food and resources needed to keep a force of 40,000 men supplied, armed, fed and fighting?
They came on Darkwater ships.
Swords win battles. Logistics wins wars.
Darkwater, Black Mountain. We fight for the Compact.
- Maximilian Darkwater.
Yes. I fought.
No. I did not bring down a bringer this time. My role in this battle was not frontline combat.
The military of the Darkwater are rarely frontline combat. We are a raiding force, a scouting force.
We do not wear the heavy armor and we do not sail the heavy ships. Some ships, like my Flag, the Damnation, are bigger and stronger by design, but most of our ships are light and easy, made for fast transit and hitting quick. Our men are the same.
Someone asked me what it was I did, if I wasn't on the front line. I didn't answer him. Not directly. I was not sure I could choke the frustration out of my voice and not end up beating the man senseless.
But here, I will explain what Darkwater did for Greyson and Pridehall. What we did, and continue to do, for the Compact.
My forces are scouts. Fast scouts. Riverine and forest, we know how to move and what we are looking for. Our scouts on the rivers found the camps and marching trails the Shavs were using. We found them early, nearly a week before the Battle of Pridehall. We found them much further west and... much farther past Bastion than expected. This in turn allowed the Ignisari to investigate in force, and as many know, their actions lead to the main battle.
Darkwater Forces did their part, in locating our enemy and denying them the chance to fully flank us, to give our forces the chance to respond and take the aggressive initiative. But songs do not get sung of brave scouts or spies.
When the scouting was done, what did Darkwater do then?
Darkwater did what Darkwater does. This is where Black Mountain came in. Black Mountain moves on Darkwater Ships for the most part. We took action, good action. We had stockpiled goods for the battle and we ran ship after ship after ship after ship of supplies to Pride Hall.
The leather strap that you needed replaced so that your breastplate did not come off? Came on a Darkwater Ship.
The stew in your bowl that kept your belly fed? Came on a Darkwater ship.
The shovel you dug the latrine with to keep your camp from disease? Came on a Darkwater ship.
The food and resources needed to keep a force of 40,000 men supplied, armed, fed and fighting?
They came on Darkwater ships.
Swords win battles. Logistics wins wars.
Darkwater, Black Mountain. We fight for the Compact.
- Maximilian Darkwater.
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