Order of the Blade

Auorix pondered a moment under the setting sun in Kheshatta at the bottom of the long steps leading to the heart of the city.

Lord Amunsol had mentioned the guard failed to defend Tesso and that their order had reestablished control of the town.

Had I been in these forsaken lands that long that our once hub of patrol success had fallen so badly.

I must ride to Tesso this evening and assess the situation for myself. I am sure there are guardsmen still there at one of our outpost on the outskirts of the town recovering.

*grasping the medallion around his neck, Sir Auorix Engel, Huntmaster of the Kings Guard allows the power of that ancient tool to flow through his body and returns to his homeland*

*Riding from the Guardsmen stables in Old Tarantia*

Lord Amunsol had been on the verge of loosing control when we spoke. It was not until half an hour had passed that his knuckles finally were no longer white from his tightly clenched fist.

(Auorix slides his polearm back and forth across his thighs as he sits by the fountain in the Noble district that had been the location of many changes in his short life)

Your road has been long Auorix Engel, and may yet come full circle on itself before your time here is over...as closed a loop that is possible at the least.

(Helm heavy, Auorix unstraps the chin guard and lifts it off of his head to rest at his side at the fountain. The lines of stress evident near his eyes and face)

You have endured many trials and tribulations in your pursuit of doing what you thought was right. Some has been successful...other decisions may not have been.

(Some children run up the stairs heading north towards the Noble's villas. Auorix pauses in his thoughts a moment to watch them play what ever form of combat they are imitating with sticks)

Neverlin’s horse took one last burning breath, and then died of exhaustion. 

The cherry-black steed neighed pathetically in death throes as it tripped over its own legs and began crumpling in a heap at the foot of the red brick fortress.  As the corpse of his warhorse collapsed, Neverlin leaped from its saddle like a panther and alighted nimbly on the blood stained granite steps leading up to one of the many undisclosed lairs of Nox Eternus.  Without braking stride, he landed and stalked coolly up the long familiar staircase.   

I arrived in the noble district to see Vatora being attacked by the Order. I charged into the fray and dispatched one of the assailants with her aid. We regrouped with another, and the three of us approached the Armsman. I saw our force was now outnumbered.

I had sped as fast as possible when the call to arms reached my ears. I arrived after our forces had to withdrawl. I saw disorder in the streets and no law being enforced. Below me were the banners and colors of the Deathlords, Midnight Brigade, and the Order of the Blade. there might have been one or two liasons from other companies but nothing more. 

My first thought was, what a unlikely bunch to have together against our forces...but I dismissed that thought as it mattered little. Seems ends must be met despite their means.

Amun-Sol was blessed to be born into a life of privilege. His family possessed a richly estate with a vast plot of land attached. All nobility in Stygia fell into one of the three categories: priesthood, merchants or military generals. Amunsol’s father fell into the later one. Just like his father, Amunsol was being brought up to be a military commander, in service to the priesthood. Also like his father, Amunsol did not put much stock in religion. While this might seem odd for any figure of note in Stygia, Amunsol simply believed that each man can decide his own destiny and would rather place his faith into the men fighting beside him, than the gods sitting above him.