I am Baron Mael Braedon
It’s all in the past now. My half-brother is gone, as is his entire family. Our father no doubt looks with disgust upon what happened. I will not focus on that. House Morkad is now but a pile of ash, but “an enemy can still choke on ash.”
I was never meant to be the head of any house. As the illegitimate child, I was more than content to serve as captain of the guard. I took pride in my sworn duties, defending my kin with all that I had. Now, all that remains of my forces are the loyal few who stand with me as my personal guard. We wear the green cloaks with honor, a reminder of what we once protected and strive to rebuild.
The Liege Lord of Instergard has cast us to the fringes, to bring the remote lands of the Isle of Deltine to heel. Perhaps they believe we will perish in this endeavor while weakening, ever so slightly, the lawless bandits that infest these lands. They will learn differently.
The land of Deltine is uncultivated, wild, and unforgiving, especially near the mountains where we have been sent. It is a stark contrast to the place we once called home. Many peasants have been given alms to take the risk and settle here, but with them came the brigands. The land is in dire need.
I will let a smile be upon my face, however. It is here that we will rise. The sigil of House Braeden - an argent broken sword stuck in a pile of sable ash - is a testament to our past and a beacon for our future. It not only symbolizes the fall of my half-brother’s family, but it also represents our unyielding resolve to rise again. Our motto, “An enemy can still choke on ash,” will not just be words, but a vow.
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I am Borrik, former steward of House Morkad, now a humble servant to Lord Mael Braedon.
The bones of this old man are frail. The wrinkles on my face are like the rings of an ancient oak tree. These eyes have witnessed many things. My own family being taken by the “Dark Omen Plague,” which signaled the end of the Lor Granz Menze, the last imperial house of Menze, nearly three decades ago. The fall of many of my friends in the subsequent downfall wars.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
With my lord’s family now reduced to ash, the despair in my heart is renewed and strengthened by all my losses. Is it my fate to live and watch all around me burn? That is what I felt, yes. But there is hope. Lord Mael, the bastard son, now stands as head of this broken house and vows vengeance. I am old, I’ve seen my share of devastation. I want to see the eyes of our enemies see it now too.
Today's task is clear. We must meet the leader of these peasant families. They were promised alms for settling here. However, they are starting to realize that they have been duped. All that is here are rocky grounds and constant besiegement by lowlife brigands. We must convince them to join us in earnest. Our protection and raw power to till these weedlands. Yes, that will be the name of our path. The “weedlands,” where the will of the people is as impossible to kill as the ever-present weeds in a garden.
The morning sun casts long shadows as I make my way into the clearing in a small encampment of would-be farmers. A rigid man, brown of hair with a poor attempt at a shave as a clear attempt at regality, stands at a table. He motions to a seat, and I take it as his eyes narrow slightly at me.
“I am Olr. I hear you asked to have a word.”
“Yes, and thank you, with respect. I am Borrik, and I come on behalf of Lord Mael Braedon, now lord of this land.” I see Olr tense up a bit, though he tries to hide it. “My lord seeks not to rule with an iron fist, I assure you, but wishes to lead in fairness and justice. We need you, Olr. The people trust you, and we wish to work with you.”
Crossing his arms, Olr finally sits down across from me. “Pretty words, but we don’t trust the words of any lord right now. We were promised fertile land! Look around, it’ll be months before anything can even be planted, but it’ll be harvest season by then. We’ll starve no matter what we do. We are stuck here, and I don’t see how we’ll last the winter. What makes Lord Mael, even if he is different, think he’ll be of any help?”
I draw in a steady breath, calming myself. “He truly is different from other lords. He knows loss, as do we all. House Morkad fell, yet from those ashes, House Braedon seeks to rise.”
“Words are easy, Borrik. What can he do, I ask!”
“You said months to plant? We have a few ideas on that, if you’re willing to listen. First, we want you to advise us on where best to start tilling, and our entire force will work directly under your supervision to prepare the land. We’ll also work with your carpenters to build any structures you need. We are not craftsmen, but we can supply the raw physical power. We are also a trained force of 30 strong. We can defend against the bandits.” I let out a breath and breathe a couple of times. “Will this be a good place to start our discussions?”
The two men smile at each other, the discussions truly about to begin.