Civil war rages between the Northern, Eastern and Western kingdoms of Atmora creating an ever-growing tension in the south, Ysgramor took his chances 6 months ago in the search for land and now he has returned with news.
As a retaliation for the rec...
The snow drifted along the pale white sky, soon laying rest on the land it had been flying above. On the land stood the gates leading into the southern kingdom, where the port city of Jykurfyk stood only an hours ride away. Several guards stood watching the seemingly endless road from their stations, within and outside the towers that flanked the main gate.
"Hjalti, do you wish that you were going to Mereth" Spoke one guard, sat by the campfire near the tower.
"Not really, I hear it's filled with tall people as pale as the snow, besides I have a family to provide for, what about you?", Hjalti looked to the guard sat by the campfire.
"Well, I'm not sure, Ysgramor said that-"
He was interrupted by a guard in the tower, calling down about a man riding to the gate. Upon closer inspection, the man was a courier of sorts, a herald perhaps; warn and battered by the freezing elements of Atmora. He was clothed in a warm woollen tunic, fur cloak, ragged linen breeches, a fur cap and calf-high leather boots.
"You there, stop!", The guard gestured him to stop. "State your business here in the Southern Kingdom!"
He halted his horse and dismounted, as his hand reached behind his cloak, the guards reached for their axes and spears until the herald pulled out a letter.
"Who is it for?", demanded the guard who still held the handle of his axe.
"Why non-other than the great Ysgramor himself", responded the shivering man.
"Then I suppose you better make way for Jylkurfyk, but first, what's your name?"
"Halfdan"
He remounted his horse and made haste for the famed hall Yjormngard. The road ahead was long, harsh and rugged with little to no stops for nourishment along the way; the question stilled remained, what will Ysgramor say in response to the letter? Finally, after an hour of riding through a spirit shattering blizzard, the Representative arrived at Jylkurfyk; its ancient stone and damp fishy smell overwhelmed him but not enough to make him forget his job. He made way for the large hall that towered high above, the paths were rigid but slippy and the alleys were long and narrow, but he made it there eventually.
He pushed open the hulking door and entered the warm oaken interior. The hearth had a blazing fire lit above it and the tables had food fit for the gods on them -ranging from goat, cow, stag and boar- it seemed like a banquet.
"You there, I have a letter for Ysgramor", Halfdan announced to a nearby guard who looked to him then pointed towards the war room. Halfdan nodded and strode towards the war room and as he was approaching the door it was opened from the other side, Halfdan stepped back and to his surprise, Ysgramor walked through.
"Ysgramor, lord"
"Who speaks? I know not your face, so you must be either new or stupid to approach me and address me by 'Ysgramor'. You call me 'Harbinger' you fool! If I am to tell this for a second time I will personally tear your throat out with my very hands without thinking twice about it, do you understand!"
"Yes, Harbinger! I am sorry to disturb you but I have a letter for you from the Atmoran Council", Halfdan extended a trembling hand holding a slightly crumpled and withered letter, sealing it was a blood red insignia that appeared foreign to Ysgramor. Taking it, Ysgramor read its contents.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ysgramor's face contorted in confusion for a brief moment until suddenly he went blank and burst out into laughter. He stumbled slightly from the laughter but after a minute he gained composure again.
"You want me to what?", Ysgramor chuckled.
"We wish for you to join the Atmoran Council, under the terms of course", returned the other.
Ysgramor brought the letter to his face and read the terms once more. Frowning slightly, he brought the letter down to his side and crumpled it in his hand.
"Ride back whence you came and tell them that I said they can shove that up their arses!"
Ysgramor told the guard to escort Halfdan out of Jylsurfyk, as Halfdan and the guard passed through the large doors Jeek walked by them and ran up to Ysgramor.
"Harbinger!" Jeek called.
"Ah Jeek, you can call me Ysgramor, what do you need?"
"Ysgramor I think we may have a problem on our hands-"
"Yes we do Jeek, there's something called the 'Atmoran Council', they want me to join but I declined", Ysgramor Interrupted.
"Not only that, but I killed the rogue brother of King Felk Of The North, the one who turned down the throne in favour of banditry".
At the sound of the news, Ysgramor held his face in his hands and sighed heavily.
"Not only are we leaving Atmora, but it seems we have to leave for good now, King Felk's army could easily crush mine. If he comes looking for me he will not find me, I will already be on my way to Mereth besides he will not attack the people but will instead, attempt to rule them in my stead, but I doubt they will stay here long under his rule. They'll most probably follow the path we are taking, and sail to Mereth."
