#crownsofiron

Desnus, 27th 4E250 

     It's five days hence the journey to the Stormford. I’m finding it harder and harder to care about my training. I fail to see the point of putting in the effort in if I am just to leave to conquer the Stormford. My family honor no longer hinges on becoming a knight. My “honorful duty” and “dutiful honor” will be fulfilled and I need not pick up my blade for anyone other than it’s wielder. They never took my training to heart anyway.

     Sieren informs me my father going to be in meetings for a while, finalizing some plans for the expansion. So I probably won't see him until he sees me off. How many of these just regress to me being alone in this empty estate. An estate for one. I'm sure there is a poem there somewhere, a space too big for four, occupied by only one.

I'm just bored.

Desnus, 28th 4E250

twenty-two rooms all but twenty one used

A prison so big it can only leaves me so small.

A light pouring through the stained glass.

The warmth of the sun crashing down like a thunderstorm.

The sound but in my head and the rain but in my heart

A stillness creep on me.

Death?

I scream in my echo chamber. Mayhaps only because no one can hear.

The scream comes back off the barriers, but it's not me that screams back

Who screams back?

Who?

     I need to come up with a title for this. Sieren heard me scream thought I was being murdered. I had to disappointed us both and tell her I was fine.

Desnus, 29th 4E250

     I arose early today to watch Sieren pray. She just looks so peaceful and happy kneeling opposed the shrine. She so still, like a statue of an Angel and if I listen hard enough i can hear her soft breaths. It's mostly just impressive. I would be lying if I said I didn't long for something to be that devoted to. I don't think I can be a woman of bahamut like her. I haven't felt the “calling” that she speaks of, not that I would even know what that would feel like.

     I took Silver rose to lord Berethor’s blacksmith. Now she's sharp as a wit Sieren tells me i have, but if all goes well it will just be a nice decoration. Father is highering 6 or 7 battle tested adventures to aid my journey. I’m a better diplomat than warrior anyway. Which is my apparent  role; to quell the “barbaric” tribes roaming about the Stormford. With how poetic  my father puts it, im almost excited to be disappointed. Alas, writing in this journal is the most fun I have any more. Sieren is making me sweet cakes for my last day here which is actually exciting. Makes me almost feel melancholy.

Desnus, 30th 4E250

♪ Oh little nightingale stuck in it's cage,

Suffocating, strangled, from all the space.

A heart full of sadness or is it rage?

As long as it's gilded with pose and grace.

Oh little nightingale goes tweet tweet tweet,

Alas, no one can hear it's cries for help,

A thought of death rings out as Sickly sweet.

To fall into silence with but a yelp.

Oh little nightingale stiff as a rock,

Oh Beauty and youth killed by a lock.♫

A stanza short of a sonnet but I think that makes it more fitting.

Desnus 31st 250

     After some teasing and begging, Sieren let me spar with her. It was magnificent! I didn't even knew she knew how to use a rapier but she bested me rather easily. Her seven years in the war probably don't hurt her sword-hand. She let me win a couple of matches, to make me feel better no doubt but, It’s the happiest i've been all week. I had no idea fighting could be this exhilarating. It was almost like I was a child again like the first time she made me sweet cakes.

     morrow is the “big day”. I get to be escorted by mercenaries into the wilderness. Sieren finished packing my things in time as always. I'm really going to miss her for these 2 years i'll be… colonizing I suppose? Me thinks i'll need to buy a mule tomorrow to carry my necessaries. Gods know I shant trust a sellsword to do so.

Wistgrad

Picture source: The Witcher 3 

The city of Wistgrad began as a collection of scattered trading posts at the intersection of a major road and a popular game trail. Travelers, pilgrims, and mercenaries walking along the path would find themselves stopping to trade for supplies and furs, eventually building inns and homes as individuals and families decided to plant their roots along the path. As the independent city-states of what would eventually become Faraam began to unify through trade and a shared desire for allies, travel and trade along the then small town of Wistgrad caused a swell in population and wealth. When the disorganized cities of Faraam needed a neutral zone to host diplomatic gatherings, Wistgrad was chosen thanks to it’s geographic isolation from other cities and position along a major trade route.  The later discovery of a notable adamant (a strong but brittle component in adamantine creation) deposit and several salt deposits within the city’s territory grew the city’s wealth further, and drew in an even greater influx of eventual citizens. This influx of cultures in the city introduced foreign arts like Kinoéan silk ribbon dancing and Drachman satire plays. Though isolation from the other city states allowed for Wistgrad to flourish in its own independence, the limited representation in multi-city negotiations would stymie the Wistgrad’s chances at even greater expansion. Rumors indicate that Wistgrad intends to make a power grab in the near future, but through what means as of yet remains unclear. Still, Wistgrad remains a notable exporter of adamant, salt rare furs, and lumber to it’s neighbors. 

The Stormford

Crowns of Iron takes place on the continent of Arenden. More specifically, it takes place in a small territory known as the Stormford, a rain-soaked river valley region within the Southwestern quarter of the Staglands.

Numerous kingdoms have risen and fallen in this region (so often that a common saying of the Stormford goes, “every hill a king”), with even the most ambitious would-be ruler finding the monsters, bandits, and fey beyond anything their small nation could have ever hoped to manage. This fact has had little impact on the number of attempts made by the bold and the foolhardy. Attempts to tame this wilderness for personal gain are made regularly, often funded by lords seeking to stymie bandit activity in their domain or merchant groups hoping to fund the building of trading posts along major trade routes.

The geography of the Stormford varies greatly, with the highlands of the Kelish Plateau overlooking the rain-soaked Blue Basin and Fela Hills below. The Grey Widow’s River, a major tributary of the larger Selim River, divides the region along its midline and nurtures the sizable temperate Whisperwoods enclosed around its banks. The snow-capped Wital Mountain Range towers over the region’s southern border, draped in evergreen forests and pockmarked with deep caverns and caves ripe for exploration.

The climate is the Stormford is miserable to say the least. Torrential rain drowns the valley 4 months of the year before high snowfall freezes them for another three. Yet as fleeting as they may be, the late summer months are a perfect time for farming in the valley, and yield bountiful harvest when tended.

The weather, as in the rest of southern Arenden, is relatively predictable, with temperatures rarely exceeding 95º F at its hottest, and dropping to around 20º F in the deep winter. Clouds usually dominate the sky, with periodic drizzles not uncommon throughout the average day. Long stretches of sunshine in the Stormford are rare, and most who live there appreciate them while they last.

Lady Olivia of House Bluethorn

Source

(Imperfect character representation) Place of Orgin: Buckhorn Hill, Wistgrad, Faraam

Date of Birth: Abadius 13, 4E234

Species: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 5’7, Weight: 140 lbs

Hair: Light Brown (dyed blue), often tied in a ponytail

Eyes: Green, Affiliation: House Bluethorn (Wistgrad Nobility)

Notable Physical Features: Vine Tattoo crawling up back,