Reinhart Family/Valgar

The Arrival of a Fallen Son - Valgar Returns To Cathay

Brian Hawkeye, Duke of Anacan, watched as the column of men headed towards his city. He had positioned himself and one-hundred and sixty men of his Emerald Guard at the southern gate, where they were approaching.

He spotted the man at the front of the column and it took a mighty effort not to order an attack on the slightly smaller, but still large party that accompanied him. He held his ground and waited for Valgar Reinhart to approach, his men uneasily looking at their Duke as the gap between the two groups, one in black, the other in green became smaller and smaller.

Valgar removed his dark helm and gazed upon the glowing battlements of Anacan. A formidable city, always the bastion of honour on these Isles. There were plenty of wary eyes looking down from on high, but one pair was fuelled by fire. He looked at Brian Hawkeye, his eyes boring into him from a great height.

He considered the man for a time. Both just simply stood their ground and assessed the other. Valgar bent his head back and whistled, a squire rode to the back of the column of black armoured Knights. He reached the first caravan and pulled a long hessian tube from the side. The squire turned his mount and galloped back to the front, his fingers picking at the leather binding the tube together. Metres before he reached the line the twin banners unfurled in his hand as he held it aloft. The colours of the Golden Lion and Iron Falcon whipped over the heads of mounted Knights as he streamed forward.

Valgar looked back towards the shape of the Duke on the wall and nodded.

Empire Building - Neo Sartania Rises From The Ashes of Soliferum

Neo Sartania was formed by the exiles of the destroyed Sartanian realm. Valgar promised the exiles that he would honour the Cathayan promise, and find the destitute people a new home. This happened at the end of the war, in the ancient Capital of a crumbling Soliferum, Mashahakon.

He spent a year helping Sartan’s people build their small edifice in the Isles. Now, having fulfilled his duty he turned his attention back to his shattered life in Cathay. There was much to be done.

The Impending Tide of War - When Even Honour Is Not Enough

Valgar spent a few years as the High Marshal of Cathay during the wars to stop the ascension of Arcaea as a major power in the Far East.

He launched counter-attacks in response to the destruction of Ethiala, and Sartania. However, his efforts were in vain. The rest of the Far East was beginning to accept the destruction of Arcaea as a pre-ordained series of events. They capitulated to the North. This left Soliferum alone fighting the rest of the Isles, led by Arcaea.

Unable to fulfil the promise of Cathay to resettle the exiled Sartanians, Valgar decided to cede the Duchy of Taop from Cathay. He intended to preserve the Lion’s honour by buying enough time for the exiles to find a new home and, hopefully, stall Cathay’s inevitable slide to the Arcaean side of the war.

Fullscale war erupted at the gates of Taop, and eventually the city was reclaimed by Cathay. Valgar assisted in the settling and construction of Neo Sartania in Mashahakon. Soliferum bore the major brunt of his decision to cede, the realm now having disappeared into the annals of history. The price of a man’s honour.

Ingnoble Ends - Purchase of The Ravenshead Inn

The Ravens Head inn was shrouded in rain. Large droplets bounced off the slate roof and cascaded down onto the narrow surrounding streets. Pools formed in doorways and began slowly washing the dirt and mud from the cobbled paths.

Valgar stood in the doorway of the inn smoking his pipe. He watched the heavens crashing down around Anacan. Akantha opened the front door to check on the Black Knight leader, and quickly shut it again when realising he was deep in thought.

His head turned slightly in time to see the oak door close. Nonplussed, his eyes wandered back to the view he had of the great Capital. From his vantage point the city rose from the docks as a mythical golem would in preparation for an intruder. A mighty symbol of hope during light hours. A city of sinister dealings at night. Valgar idly watched the thin tendrils of blue tobacco smoke wind their way into the damp night air, and be quashed in the sweeping rain.

Dark Dealings - Preparing an Underworld Headquarters

The door of the shadowed building broke from its rusted hinges and skittered to a halt on the wet street as a body connected with it. A flood of shouts followed by the sound of angry fists echoed through the rainy night of the West Quarter of the City of Anacan.

"Alright! Enough! Kyln sit down. Now!" Valgar was standing in the middle of the fight which had erupted in the Laden Pony inn, he turned on the sweating fat house merchant, "You pull a knife on one of my men again and ill kill you myself, as for the stable. We will take it.".

The fat merchant adjusted his robe, picking at the dried blood on the hem. He signalled for his lackeys to desist their aggresiveness, "Fine. You take it, i want coin up front though.". With that his lackeys braced for a negative reaction from the other party.

Valgar nodded and gestured for his battered men to leave, some grumbled about the full pitchers of grog in low tones, but they filed out after each other.

"Why a ruined stable under the City dam? Tell me that before you leave.".

Valgar adjusted his black slabbed armour and grinned through the scar trailling his cheeck, "Best place for new recruits. If im paying coin for killers, i want the seasoned ones.". With that he winked at the merchant, slipped a bottle of spirit into his chestplate from his table, and sauntered through the doorless entrance.

The Beginning - Valgar Reinhart Lands On The Far East Isle.

There was a grinding noise from below the hull as the boat crunched into the shoreline. The black clad occupants from the bowels of the hull vaulted the sides and fastened the vessel to the shore.

Valgar Reinhart leapt from the boat into the lapping waves and waded with his men across the dark shale. Dank sea water swilled inside his boots as he distainfully surveyed their first touch of land in weeks.

"Strip the ship, i've had enough of being on the bloody seas. From now on this place is that we will call home". He growled grimly.

Tired, wornout fighting men silently nodded and set about their orders. Valgar turned from them to scan the horizon, he could make out the spires of a city in the distance.

'Welcome home... let us just hope we dont get chased off this rock aswell' He thought with dark humour.