SirBrandon's profile

The night following the final battle for Castle Langdon, a massive pyre was assembled to burn the dead of both sides. Warriors who had died enemies on the field of battle journeyed to the afterlife together. Borlan’s men were allowed to attend, and to say their farewells to their comrades. A feast was ordered by Edward, and all captives were present. The only Langdon men not present was the force of three hundred additional men sent by the young Lord to hold Borlan’s castle until ...

At Castle Langdon, Lord Edward stood in the yard awaiting the enemies in false colors. Most of the men on the walls were hidden, the drawbridge was down, andthe portcullis was up. To anyone approaching, nothing would seem at all amiss at the castle. A fanfare was being played to celebrate the return of his father. He only wished that it were true. He still had yet to mourn for his father, Edwin. He had been to busy since the news of his loss. As the last of the false men passed through the fi...

Sir Bayde listened to the message from his brother. After dismissing the man, he remained silent and deep in thought for several minutes. Damn, and I thought I was cocky, he thought to himself. The safe course of action would be to wait until Borlan's army broke at the wall, then harry them from behind while they were being fired on by the defenders. But he had to admit his brothers plan was bold. He called the soldiers together. "Well, men, my lord brother commands us to take Borlan's c...

When Sir Bayde finally recovered his wits, he sent for his fastest rider. When the man was before him, he gave his orders quickly. "Make your weay back to the castle, as quickly as possible. Kill the horse if you must. Tell Lord Edward that Borlan's men approach in our uniforms, along with our father's carriage. Expect them within the next four to five days if they continue at this pace. Understood?" "Yes, Sir Bayde. It shall be done." He dismissed the rider, then mounted ...

Edward sat in his fathers chair, meeting with his closest advisers. Father Andrew, his religious adviser, was in his twilight years. No one knew his exact age. He seemed an eternal fixture at the castle. His strategy and battle adviser, who had been his tutor just days before, was an old officer named Marcus. His Master of the Treasury was there as well, a bookish man in his thirties named Greg, who everyone called Coin. "Marcus, how many men do we have garrisoned right now?" The m...