A few solitary streams of sunlight crept through the thin east-facing windows of the room Rufus Tallow Rossric was sleeping in. The old castle had a creak about itself that, to those who lived inside its walls permanently, would create a lulling ambience - stone gently knocking against wooden beams, glass trappings against the window frames, and most notably, the amplified pitter-patter of the servants dutifully going about their daily tasks. Rufus has awoken to these sounds every morning of his life and finds it troubling to sleep without the gentle rumble of the Fordkeep.

His eyes opened with a slow, meaningful blink of the eyelids, much like how a horse bows and drops it's head against the grassy floor with gentle rhythmic inclinations. The sun had barely peaked the horizon but the Fordkeep's cogs were already turning - servants served, guards guarded, a woman could be heard laughing at the end of the corridor followed by the tip-tap of her feet against the wood-paned floor and the tail of her dress dragging behind. Rufus had spent twenty-two years falling asleep and waking up in this room and he had become acute at predicting whether footsteps were proceeding towards the door of his bedroom, or walking away - after all, the room he was in is he only one on the corridor; and anyone walking in his direction [i]must[/i] be coming to see him. He wasn't alarmed - he had heard that woman's laugh time and time again. There was a knock on the door.

"[color=00a651]Just a moment,[/color]" he said as he hopped out of bed and replaced his nightwear with something a little more appropriate - a white silk shirt lined with cotton, and a pair of black trousers. "[color=00a651]Come in.[/color]"

The large wooden door creaked a quiet song as it swung on its hinges. "[color=00a651]My lord,[/color]" said she, "[color=00a651]news has come from our northern neighbours that requires your attention.[/color]" Outstretched her arm, dressed in the long green sleeve of her golden-lined dress, and in her hand a folded letter possessing the broken wax seal of what he knew to belong to Waldenmark, the northernmost keep of Forkland.

"[color=00a651]Who has opened this letter?[/color]" he asked, stepping forwards and taking the letter into his own hands.

"[color=00a651]I have, my lord,[/color]" she replied - it was the custom of those of Forkland to be respectful when news of death arrived, regardless of who the death belonged to. It was because of this that Rufus well understood the nature of the letter, having not yet opened it.

Rufus unfolded the letter to find only a few lines of writing, neat and orderly in all respects.

[center] [i]Lord Rufus Tallow Rossric,

I regret to inform you of the passing of Leigelord Rikard Weade of the Whitelands. He has been fell in battle at the hands of Lord Perris during the ongoing conflict in the Iron Hills.

It has also been said Lord Perris claims the throne upon which Lord Regent Joakim the Young sits.

Peace be with you,
        Ser Cotwell of Waldenmark[/i][/center]

Rufus folded the letter again and placed it on his desk amongst other folded letters. "[color=00a651]That is indeed dire news,[/color]" said he. "[color=00a651]Have the town crier announce a service in his honour at noon. I'd like to see my brother at the Altar before then.[/color]"

The woman in the green dress nodded dutifully and attended to her directions. Rufus took a moment to appreciate the fondness he has towards the woman, who was indeed his wife.

[center]~ ~ ~ [/center]

Louis Rossric, though five years Rufus' younger, stood an inch taller. His body was as strong, if not stronger, than the mind of his brother and his hand at the sword and shoulder at the lance were unmatched in any of the Forkland tournemants to date. If only, mused Rufus, if only his mind were as strong - alas, he is a simple brother. And it was true, for Louis has never taken to pages of a book - stories had never stolen him away like they had Rufus.

"[color=00a651]I have heard the news, brother,[/color]" said Louis bounding up the steps to the alter where Rufus waited as crowds gathered outside the church's doors in anticipation for the service. "[color=00a651]Tis' haunting. I pray the conflict does not come to trouble us.[/color]"

"[color=00a651]Dear brother, that is in fact why I have asked to meet you here. As Lord of the Banner, it would calm us greatly and give the people assurance if you were to assemble a force capable of defending the banks. You know as well as I, if the Whitelands is taken by store the wind from the Ice Plains will only send the thunderclouds south.[/color]"

[center]~ ~ ~[/center]

Doves were dispatched to all corners of Forkland carrying messages of deed. Within a week, all tavern doors and town criers told of one thing: Fordkeep seeks knights loyal to peace and prosperity...

[center][i]...and all who see themselves fit should travel immediately to the keep on the Ford. Your resolve will be tested before Lord Rufus the Resoloute.[/i][/center]

It was to his wife that Rufus later confided after the service: "[color=00a651]I fear - I have been fearing - for the stillness of our lands. Something brews in those ghastly hills, something insidious. We cannot let it reach our banks.[/color]"