[i]The Incident.[/i] It wasn't an incident. It wasn't an accident. It wasn't a tragedy. It was pure treason. Treacherous, disgusting treason. [i]'Our lady mother came bearing gifts, just as every a year she did. She went to meet the new Steward of Dewthorn, to say condolences to the young Lady Eva.'[/i] Akyptos looked stricken with grief, but also with rage. [i]'The Steward killed her accompanying party, captured her, then gave her over to the [b]Somberfalls.[/b] They severed all her limbs, then threw her to the hounds.'[/i] Akyptos snarled, and then sobbed. They did, too. Zilanta cried and sobbed and whimpered, but tears were good. Tears helped recover. And when the shock, the mourning, the tears were over, they found themselves roaring, snarling and barking like hounds, they found themselves [i]angry.[/i] 

[center]*[/center]

On the next morrow, they were seated around a crudely made oval table of pine wood. Qyptos looked grim, and his near bald head made it to look as if he tore his hair out, although that was not true. Akyptos, as always, looked angry. Zilanta was pale, and looked as if dying of an illness, if sadness could be called one. She was a beautiful girl, Yuragos knew. Yet now, with dried tears on her cheeks, she looked ugly. The atmosphere was deathly pressure on her, and Yuragos wondered why lord father brought her along, too. Perhaps to observe her reactions? Qyptos Takhar never quite observed his children's behaviour, although Yuragos once remembered, for getting drunk, he whipped Akyptos once. It was quite a childish grudge that his older brother still held. But getting drunk at an age of only twelve summers, Akyptos was a fool enough to do it. Yuragos wasn't.

[center]*[/center]

 He stared hard into his lord father's skinny, pale face. He was, what, of forty years and more? He was near bald, except at the back of his head, which he grew long. His pale, unforgiving eyes shrewdly scanned his children's faces, and then he spoke. 
'It doesn't come without a reason that they did what they did. Jon Somberfall was known to ask for too much things, and I refused him, coldly and sternly. His heir, Sam, wanted to wed Zilanta. I have different plans for her, and I refused him. And I did it every time, I told them no.' He touched his silver brooch a shape of a serpent, it was gold, lovely, shining gold. His other clothes were a simple jerkin of boiled leather, and a grey tunic underneath, he was known to dress humbly, but his braslets, amulets, necklaces were of shining luxury. [i]Shining.[/i]
 'The Dewthorns were ever a great, strong and loyal family. Me and Lord Cilien Dewthorn were good friends, comrades, even. Then he caught that strange sickness, then his entire family. For some reason, his sweet little girl didn't. And the vicious Steward took the Regency. I don't suspect, I already [i]know[/i] that the Steward schemed with the Somberfalls.' He barked the word out as a soldier takes a blade out of its' scabbard. 

[center]*[/center]

'And no, not Jon Somberfall, he is too mad and too moronic to scheme like that. His ever clever son, Sam. I do not know which poison, but its' certain the illness wasn't natural.' He took a long, cool swing of a cup of cold water. 'Jon goes out into the woods, naked, on all fours. Sam isn't mad. But with the Lord of Somberfalls being a mad, vicious idiot, it's easy to say all of them are. Let us do it, then.' He emptied the glass. 'All you are dismissed, except Yuragos.'

[center]*[/center]

 Something pinched in his breast. He stopped as his siblings walked out. His father's cold, unforgiving eyes met his own. His father grinned, although his eyes were as cold as ever. 'Yuragos. You're a good actor. You're a clever son. You're a potential ruler.' All of that was true, he knew. But to hear it from his father, Qyptos Takhar, Lord of House Takhar and the Sellafouryn Serpent? It was either a clever mockery, or something more. 'Let me see your acting skills, Yuragos. Act as a pious, faithful, and a little stupid priest.' At first, he did not understand, but still did it. He knew some quotes from the books of Gods, mother taught him. He acted as his household priest, sang some songs, Qyptos was amused. 'Good. I wish to send you to the priesthood.' And then his father's true intentions hit him as if a chariot manned by giants smashed into his face. He smiled. Qyptos was a clever, ambitious, unsympathetic man. And certain greed in him, certain greed. He was ready.

[center]*[/center]

Zilanta looked around the room. She was scared of the hunting trophies, the bloody antlers on the head of an elk, the head of a bear, those beasts frightened her, and so did the grey beast on the crest of the Somberfalls. 'I know you're afraid, child.' Her father also terrified her, for all the beasts around her, he killed them most, he was the most sly and the most dangerous beast in the world. The Serpent. 'You're not safe, not even in our manor. This is a horrible time, I know.' She didn't know, she didn't [i]want[/i] to know, but she had to inquire. But before she could, he once again spoke. 'I wish to send you to Attolia. You need to tell them about what they did to your mother. They need to know. You'll be safe there.' She nodded, glancing around. He quietly dismissed her and told her to gather her things. She did, and then she waited.

[center]*[/center]

The Hall looked a little narrow and cramped with all the men at arms leaning by the beams, weapons in hands. The table was also a little out of place, with all the pine benches and stools chaotically placed around it. Most men were of little value to him, for they were pawns, they were pieces. Most faces looked as if carved out of stone, with grotesque expressions of a quiet rage. After hearing the news, most men drank like pigs. Now woken up, it seemed as if their brains boiled and leaked out of their ears, leaving zombified soldiers seated around the pine table. Qyptos was amused with the incompetence of his commanders, many of them were old men, slow to learn and slow to think, but quick to judge. The most daring and strong of them was Akyptos, his own son. He wasn't quite impressed with his ability to ride as if born on a saddle, nor happy to know he was more truthful than cunning, and he wasn't glad he was his eldest. 

But traditions are traditions, he's not the one to break the chains of traditions, nobody were. And yet, he felt himself wracked with certain guilt he made him a commander, that he abided by letting him go into combat, even somehow [i]wishing[/i] something would happen to him so Yuragos becomes his heir. If his wife would hear his thoughts, she'd slide a knife into his neck in the night. But she was dead, because of the Dewthorns and the Somberfalls. It would be very easy to have his men slip into the woods of Fyshgyll or Sunbard, and fill the mad Jon Somberfall's belly with arrows. But what would it bring to him? His clever, sly heir Sam to rule, and even more danger. No emotions, he thought. He was a predator, not a prey. A prey follows its' emotions and instincts. He follows sheer logic and ever shrewd plans. No emotions, he thought. And even with the bitter madness weighing down on him, the mournful prospect of just [i]thinking[/i] he shan't see his wife with him anymore, it brought him deep pain. The council lasted a few hours, it was quite a bore, not enough for him to actually remember what they talked about, only the decisions he made from it. He took up some ink, and began to write two letters, one to the Church, other to Attolia. He knew how to articulately form good letters, and he was proud of his talent. He sent some men to patrol the fiefs, too. The vassals were an angry foe, that was bitterly true. They could instantly attack to pillage and rape. That is something he could not afford.

Actions

[quote=To Archbishop Innocent III]It is in my eternal respect to the Church and the Gods, that I, Lord Qyptos, First of His Name, Rightful Ruler of Sellafour, ask for forgiveness and help. Lord Jon Somberfall has been naught but shameful trouble to the realm of gods and men alike. He is mad, he is evil. He is used by the devil to commit horrendous atrocities. He goes hunting into the woods, naked, on all fours, chanting the words of his red, horned evil god. He is a foul heretic, so is his heir, Sam, a heretic. We ask for the Church's support in our war against the heretical Somberfalls, and the Steward of Dewthorns, who, through foul treachery had poisoned all Dewthorns save a small child, Eva, and took control. My wife had been a guest under the Dewthorn roof, ate their bread and salt and drank their wine, and they have killed her and her entourage. As a token of good health to Archbishop Innocent III, my youngest son, Yuragos, pious and faithful to the gods as he is, wishes to join the priesthood.

With Kind Regards,
Lord Qyptos Takhar of House Takhar, Rightful Ruler of Sellafour.[/quote]

[quote=To Lord Lothar Wolff, Rightful Ruler of Attolia]It is in all my good wishes to Attolia and House Wolff, that I, Lord Qyptos of House Takhar, First of His Name, Rightful Ruler of Sellafour, wish to extend an offer of a strong alliance with Attolia, and ask for your assistance in our war against the Somberfalls and Dewthorns. They have given up our trust, killed innocents and horribly executed my lady wife for naught. I also ask for you to shelter my youngest child, Zilanta, in your royal court. 

Best of Wishes,
Lord Qyptos Takhar of House Takhar, Rightful Ruler of Sellafour.[/quote]

Fifty of The Raider Cavalry are to begin patrolling Blushpond and Freebird in case the enemy comes, or there are suspicious activity. If so, they shall notify the army as soon as possible.

Fifty of The Raider Cavalry are to begin patrolling Thrycetun in case the enemy comes, or there are suspicious activity, If so, they shall notify the army as soon as possible.