Môr Glan, County Harlaech
Ersetu Prime
In the lands owned by the clan Dour-Warad, the farthest away happened to be the most important. While nothing more than an ancient naval fortress turned into a manor, the old mossy walls held many a secret from times long before the Dominion had ever grown this size. The planet's tidal lock made it a constant twilight, and the moon hung high in the false night. It was roughly midday.
A storm had blown in from the east, the winds and rain battering the docks and the town alike. Even upon the massive cliff above the town where Castle Harlaech, the fortress of which the county got its name, it seemed the wind would strip the moss from the walls and toss it far to leeward. Why the Lord of Harlaech had called for his retainers to here instead of the fields of Durann and Castle Dour. One may think that it would be answered. The Lord's message had read as follows, and all of them had gotten their own,
"My friends, I must call you back from your duties to ascertain a paramount issue, one that cannot be discussed by letter or courier alone. Meet me in the Castle Harlaech and make great haste, for dawdling may result in losses dear. Your pay is guarunteed, all I ask is you be faster than lightning and arrive by the ides of the month." Sir Lor'an
He'd signed a false name, but one all of his retainers knew. While Sir Lor'an was fictitious, Lord Idris Dour-Warad was not.
--
Castle Harlaech Gates
"It's pouring."
"I know."
Two soldiers stood bickering in the rain, protected only by a wooden overhang and ponchos to keep them some semblance of dry. The wind was indeed ripping along, but the gates were protected from most of it by being leeward. This fact did not, however, keep the rain too much altered. They were soaked and miserable, but they were of the Harlaech Guards. This was their job.
"Oy, you think tha' Duke intends on stayin' 'is time?" The one on the right was taller and younger than her companion, but she wore a dimly glowing rose to mark himself as a "Chosen Man."
Her companion, a corporal, was not as tall but a little more pudgy than his younger. "Why should I know? And shut your yap, we ain't s'pose ta' talk on guard."
"But it's booooorin'!" She complained, slouching, she turned to say something but was loudly hushed by the Corporal.
"Hush, ya tit, someone's comin'."
He was indeed right, as lantern lights in the rain and the faint squawk of Kirikuu trotting down the approach became more and more obvious as soon as the Chosen locked her lips.
"It's the Retainers."
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[Clan Dour-Warad] Of Clans and Families
A Tale of Blood Feuds and Clans. Lord Idris, the head of Clan Dour-Warad has called his retainers do deal with an old enemy.
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