Tension hung heavily in air ever since word had reached them of Lord Rikard's death. It was also unlikely to dissipate soon, so mused Evan Finn, the informal Master Scribe. This was a most delicate time for the Whitelands, and especially for the young Weade Joakim. Already multiple parties were openly moving to take advantage of the current instability, 

The regent had reacted well enough, and Evan felt a small sense of admiration for the boy he himself was only a few winters senior. Joakim had acted quickly. Maybe not with as much surety as the Weade were known for, but it was sufficient for now. That didn't mean he was placing all his faith in the boy. Evan hoped Gregar arrived sooner rather later.

It seemed as though they barely had time to mourn for Duke Rikard, although the formal ceremonies for that would probably arrive when the heir to the seat of Winterhouse, Gregar, returned. Evan had no news of his father, who had been among those accompanying Rikard.

“The world stops for no one.” Evan muttered to himself as he set about collecting the various relevant ledger books of the keep with the help of another apprentice scribe. Technically, he was still an apprentice himself. But dear old Barnabas had suffered some sort of fit and was currently bedridden. He had been in the towers when the first messenger crow arrived. It remained to be seen whether he would be well enough to continue his duties.

“You say something, Finn?” called an older scribe from across the small room. 

“Nothing, Fletcher. Prepare the record books from last year in case the Marquis needs them. You'll be his errand boy when he arrives.” Evan gathered the books in a small stack and bound a leather belt around all of them. He left the work to the other scribe.

He had only seen the Marquis of Urik a few times in the past, and quite frankly, Evan didn't like the man. There was a saying about the Gallatins in the Whitelands - 'Everybody in the courts know what the Gallatins are thinking.'

Even if Galen hadn't been born into that particular family, Evan didn't think his opinion would change. The man just irked him. Something in his countenance, the way he dressed... Winter's breath, he was no noble but as a northerner he felt no man should be that proud to dress that extravagantly! More and more it seemed to Evan that the northern breed was dying out with the way some of these nobles acted.

As great apprehension he felt at thinking a man like Galen Gallatin was the one being put in charge of Wintershouse. it was not his place to speak out against it. After all, he was just a mere scribe. But somebody really should have.

Setting aside his misgivings, he had a messenger sent to the marquis to inform his of his new position and had the servants told to call for him when he arrived.

In the meantime, Evan had other work to do. 

He settled himself in the Master Scribe's study, and laid a thick, heavy tome on the main writing table. The book was rather simply titled, Historie of the Most Noble Weade Family. 

He set aside another table for his personal journal and gathered various other books and letters, another table for a lamp, before gathering his writing paraphernalia. The feel of the pen in his hand relaxed the scribe, and he spent a long while in contemplation before opening the tome to the latest blank page before carefully writing.

[i]54th year of Passing, 21st of October
-Scibe Evan Finn

The land is strife with many ongoing conflicts waged in the name of His Royal Majesty King Etwine of Borhilon. The Ironhills, under the dominion of His Majesty and governed by Duke Perris of Harrighfield, saw conflict over the rights of ownership to a particular mine. Negotiations failed to hold, with the result that King Etwine issued an invitation to battle for the possession of the mines.

His Grace, Duke Rikard Weade, Rikard the Just responded to the summons of his liege and brought with him twoscore of his own men, including his son and heir Gregar, joined by other nobles under his vassalage and their levies. Alas, Rikard fell in battle, leaving the Whitelands under the temporary rule of his thirdborn son, Joakim Weade.

Rumors are abound in the land of Lord Perris' bullish use of power. Many suspect this conflict is merely a stepping stone to secure a greater hold over the land of Borhilon, darker rumors tell of ambitions for the throne.

This is a turbulent time for the Weades, as Lord Perris makes a claim to Winterhouse's seat, affirming the idea of Lord Perris' hunger for more power.

Lord Regent Joakim called a meet at the Winstershouse, whereupon various nobles swore their fealty to the heir apparent, Gregar. The following noblemen pledged their service and loyalty to the new Duke Weade...[/i]

The room remained in silence, but for the flickering of the lamplight and the scratching sound of pen upon paper. Evan Finn went studiously about his task.

History was unfolding.