For Honor: Council of Caminus

Knights of Ashfeld

The next day...

Early bird gets the worm. At least, that's how the saying goes. I got up even before the sun rose above the horizon. The sky was turning a tinge of deep blue so I knew I didn't just wake up in the middle of the night. I spent the first few minutes freshening up. Next to my bed was a bucket of water left by Greg from the night before. A refreshing feeling washed over me as the cold water caressed my face. Pulling a knife out from my satchel, I then used a hand mirror to shave my beard back down and touch up on my mustache. I made sure to get every spot done right.

Once my morning rituals were complete I pulled out the paper that Lisa got me the day before and studied the names. My main goal is to meet all of the "clean" knights and assess their legions for potential support. So far two names stuck out: Armand Moore of the Royal Legion, most notable for his defense of the Sow Mesa's region bordering Valkenhiem. Next, Celestina Goodwin, leader of the Goodwin Legion. So far Celestina and the counsel were on good terms especially after what Abaddon and Annora helped defend her settlement of Fredward. Chances are that she's willing to enter an alliance, and if I'm so lucky she'll even put in a word of recommendation for us to the other commanders. She will be a prime ingredient in the grand scheme of things. I quickly jotted down notes about each of the good guys and placed the note in my journal.

Next up were the bad apples. And by bad apples I mean real sons-of-bitches. The kind of guys you'd never trust with their own baby. These guys are apparently notorious in Beaufort for atrocities committed outside of the stronghold's walls. I get that Ashfeld is a more lawless land than what people would like to admit. But the things committed by these guys seem pretty overkill. For them I wrote down persons of note: First, Samael Porter of the Regals, known for his merciless hunt of smaller knight groups in the West Lake region. He was most likely a squire when Councilman Helmer led our counteroffensive against them. I doubt he'll be willing to meet halfway considering he's the nephew of the previous commander who Helmer lanced through the throat. Second, Vortiger of the Black Priors. He is a ruthless fanatic who knows no limit to the cruelty he can induce. Supposedly he and his order were once holy and of moral high ground, but those days have long passed because now his past is hidden by the trail of blood he has made. Reports from fellow curators suggest their fall from grace was a product of their union with the Blackstone Legion. And then there was Behemoth of the Blackstones.

Not much was known about Behemoth. The Bulwark Legion's curators weren't even able to find their real name. What I do know however is that a select few of the Blackstones are apart of a inner circle who take up demon names to veil their true identity for reasons unknown. To be honest it sounds pretty sketchy to me. Especially due to the fact that they're growing so quickly which makes it much more interesting. Their leadership however has been waning. Leader after leader has risen only to fall after a couple of years or even months. This has been the cycle for the Blackstones, and it has been a cycle that has attracted all kinds of knights into their legion. The moral compass of the legion as a whole has been shifting somewhere between good and bad but never in one side completely. From my observations and that of fellow curators we discerned that the Blackstones tend to shift their personality when a new leader takes charge.

By the time all of my preparations were done the sun was beginning to rise and a gleam of sunlight made the curtained window glow with a hue of orange-yellow. I walked across the hall to Stallard's room and knocked on his door. He didn't answer of course so I entered anyway and saw the sleeping giant deep in his slumber. His snores had reverberated throughout the hallway the entire night so I barely got enough sleep. I felt second hand embarrassment as I knew that Mr. and Mrs. Cornwall most likely were at least stirred awake thanks to Stallard's terrible sleeping habits. I quietly prayed to the stars that he got enough sleep before calling him out.