The beginning of the Border Dispute:
Resuming my telling of the history of Dragon Dormant’s border dispute, I had just finished telling of the daunting challenge set before our fair shire, and the dismaying ease of which we conquered this first of challenges, as our foes saw fit to remain at home.
Seeing that our foes had no stomach for warfare after all, I thought no more on this power in the west and went back to my own life’s routine. In time I traveled even farther from the shores of our shire into the MidRealm, and ultimately into the lands of Northshield where I was to remains for many months, pursuing my own adventures and fortune in far away lands. What may have happened to me in these far away lands is of little importance to this tale, and I therefore will say naught of it.
Eventually I finally returned home, and to my surprise not a season too soon, for but a short month after my arrival as the seasons passed from summer to fall we received a messenger who looked rather worn from what was obviously a very long time on the road.
“Me Lords!” said the messenger breathless “I have a message from the mighty barony of Scraeling Althing, a far away land across mountainous lands and endless plans, across seas and more plains and forests as dark as the midnight skies, and across more plains and then more mountains… “
We interrupted the messenger impatiently then asking “Is this not the Scraeling Althing of Ealdomere?”
“Aye me lords.” He replied confidently, then continued “I am awed at your wisdom to know of this land so far away from your own! I have a written letter from this land” He handed us a scroll case of well work leather.
Raising an eyebrow we asked “How is it that you speak of this land as though it is so far away when it is but a short day’s ride?”
The dusty messenger laughed “Nay, a short day’s ride you say? I have been on the road for over a year to bring you this message! Surely this Scraeling you speak of is another!”
Wondering if it might be possible that there be another Scraeling in the world, and another Ealdomere, we decided to open the letter:
“Unto our worthy adversaries, Due to the summer’s storms we have seen fit to withdraw our forces from the land’s poorly made huts in favour of our comfortable halls. It is unfortunate that our battle will have to be delayed until we can reach a better mutual arrangement. Please send us word immediately when you would be available to settle this dispute.” We puzzled over this letter, could this be? Could we have missed them? Had they been waiting for us all this time?
We looked into our shire’s taxation records (which only get referred to under the direst circumstances) only to learn that the eastern salient had not sent it’s tribute last year fall and had not sent it this fall yet! It truly appeared that the Ealdomerians had moved their troops back in without us noticing! We cursed ourselves for our lack of wit and looked on at the messenger.
We took him outside where the sun was setting “Which direction is east?” we asked him.
The messenger first pointed north, then west, then south “That way! Is it not?”
This man surely was not fully in possession of his sense! “Curse us for fools!” we cried realizing they had sent the message with this man hoping that it would never arrive, and counting on our distaste for bureaucracy and short sightedness to let their annexation of our land go completely unnoticed!
We promptly sent a reply stating quite plainly that we were on to them and would deal with them appropriately! We also began sending word for mercenaries throughout the kingdom. We dipped deeply into the shire’s coffers to hire the deadliest swordsmen that eastern coin could buy, recruiting among others lord Hans, who was the brother of our captain, lord Stephan. Before the leaves had started falling from the trees we were ready!
We advanced west, claiming territory putting their front line fighters to flight, only to be met by reinforcements! Our formidable forces danced a deadly duel that day, breaking apart in the chaos many times and reforming… undertaking daring raids, yet they fought equally well both deviously and valiantly like wolves on the hunt they harried our supplies and assassinated commanders… At length both sides faced one another on the open field, after fighting for a time, we became bloodied and battered with slipping determination. In an effort to prevent a route both sides parleyed. Neither side was willing to surrender the land no matter the compensation, yet eventually both came to a compromise. It would be decided by a duel of champions. Our champion was Hans, and our foe’s champion was the mighty warlord Larze himself!
The pair circled one another for a time that seemed an eternity studying each other, cautiously. Then suddenly they began to fight with flashing steel weaving in and out, vying for an advantage!
Suddenly there was a cry and the pair moved apart from each other… there was a wetness of blood on our champion… yet the same wetness was as obvious on his foe! Reeling from their wounds for a moment they both staggered neither willing to yield! Then Larze lunged at Hans, there was a clash of steel, a cry… but it was Larze who fell on the field that day!
Eager to save our champion our healers applied their leeches and herbs, and though it took some time eventually he did recover. The rest of us however wasted no time in celebrating our very close) victory, revelling late into the autumn night!