Redire
Vassal of Laurent
Words: "No Truer Friend"
Sigil: A Bare White Tree On A Black Field With Green Border
Nicknames: Buds
It's thought that House Redire may have been one of the many that fell during the Elven War, and were subsequently forgotten. Its unexpected restoration in 1015 AR after languishing for five hundred years in obscurity, would seem to mark the beginning of a new chapter in a very old, if now little known story.
The author of this chapter is Amari Redire, backed by House Laurent and her loyal Kerton allies. With their support and the aid of her friends, she's fearlessly pursued the claim all the way into the wild and mysterious depths of the Shadowood. Only time will tell whether the founding of Reveillon there will herald a glorious return for House Redire, or a very tragic epilogue.
A deep rumble of awakening already issues from the Shadowood, as though it were finally shaking off a long and troubled slumber. Rumors of entire Abandoned tribes swearing themselves to the White Tree banner spread. While some may rejoice at the prospect of that bandit infested wilderness being at long last tamed, others will no doubt worry over yet more prodigals joining the Compact.
Members
| Name | Rank | Title | Description |
Ruler: Amari
Land Holdings
Reveillon
Description: House Redire rules from Reveillon, a grand lakeside citadel standing tall in the very heart of the Shadowood. The beasts there are many and savage, the woods dark and pathless, and the roving shav an ever present danger. It's mainly by its winding rivers that travel to and trade with the rest of the Compact is safely conducted. They cut deep ravines through the upland weald, draining both northwest toward Sanctum, and southeast to Duskshire and beyond. This geographical quirk and central location blesses the holding with a curiously strategic position.
Only from the white spires of Reveillon can one survey almost all of the verdant refuge it's found within. To the southeast an overgrown labyrinth of thorny hedge, lush meadow, dense thicket and a bewildering confusion of narrow lanes guards the castle's approach. To the west, serene and ancient groves of maple shade the rolling hills and hidden dales until the land falls away into a marshy sea of reeds dotted with isles of willow and birch. In the east, a jewel lake fed by cascading waterfalls shimmers all the way to the rocky northeastern slopes where a hilltop fortress and quarry sprawl. In every direction, the surrounding Shadowood spreads to the far horizons, forming a nearly unbroken green cover of undulating leaf and bough.