Daubeny Family/Aeron/Running out of Time

Roleplay from Aeron Daubeny Player experience level: experienced Player play preference: rp Message sent to all nobles of Tol Goldora (36 recipients) - 10 days, 18 hours, 40 minutes ago Running Out of Time

Aeron had shaken off the events of the prior day, he would have to send Haide and Nalaya a gift of some sort. They were his only friends besides Corna and Lady Hwitt. He made his way back to the Capital with only eighteen of his men behind him. Yesterday there was fifty of them and now not even half of that number. He let his desire to protect get him and his men into to trouble and now he had strained his relationship with the realm's military commanders.

He was losing track of his goals, he needed friends not enemies. Maybe he should throw some sort of ball or party, it would be a good chance to sway the Gylden Court to help him. No cheap tricks were not going to help him this time. He looked to that dammed Wicked Book, he didn't want to know how that Adventurer had come to find a book about necromancy and other dark alchemical things. A thought crossed his mind, what if he bound undead hordes to serve him. He could do it, the book had instructions and raising the dead, all he would need was a scroll and maybe he could command his own undead soldiers.

No, such things are evil. He threw the book back into his sack and slung it over his shoulder as he kept walking, a raven croaked and Dirlen raised his arm and the raven landed. Dirlen carefully took the letter from it's leg. "The Seal of the Isle? You've flown far little one, come eat and rest." He took a small crumb from a piece of bread and fed it to the raven before allowing it to step up onto his shoulder where it rested.

He handed the letter to Aeron and the Young Prince took it with a small thankful smile to his Captain. "You know Dirlen, I think the new scar makes you look more like the veteran you are?" The man raised an eyebrow and laughed lightly as he ran a few fingers over the scar that ran down from his temple to his chin. "I suppose I've suffered worse injuries but it's not all bad." The Captain gave Aeron a rueful smile. "Besides the ladies like a man with scars, as I am sure you know." Aeron gave his Captain an unimpressed look and shook his head with a sigh, brushing his hair to cover his burn scars. "Oh shut it Dirlen."

He opened the letter given to him by the Captain.

Prince Aeron,

The Orician Horde have broken past the Northpass and make their march south, they are avoiding Stonehearth and make all haste towards Silver Fountains. We have not quite two-hundred defenders in the Captial. We are running out of time. Reports state that they are halted by a harsh winter storm. But winter will end soon and then they will reach the City. We can't hold them long.

The Council has recalled you, we need you.

Signed

Richard Falkirk

Aeron felt a fear wash over him as the realization of what he had truly just read clicked. If the Capital was lost then there would be no hope of saving his homeland. He was out of time. He needed to get help, now. He looked to Dirlen and the Captain nodded in recognition. "DOUBLE TIME IT MEN, TO GOLDEN FARROW!"

The surviving Dawn Guard spurred their horses onwards and Aeron began to write a flurry of letters to be sent via raven to be sent across the land. Aeron felt a sense of purpose wahs over him.

He would save the Isle.

Or die trying.