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Twelve Houses of the Winter Court

Before the race of northern men waged war upon their southern neighbours, the Dvergar, in a brutal retaliation for the slaughter of their people, they were governed by a noble court of Twelve Houses that were ultimately ruled by a monarch known as the Winter King or Queen. They are collectively known to the peoples of the continent of Gaiaden and beyond as the Winter Court of Lochland. Continue reading “Twelve Houses of the Winter Court”

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The Stone-Winter War

This is the written account of the fall of a proud warrior race, the birth of a new nation and the legend of Wulfgar Stormsever as it is documented in the histories and tomes contained within the library of the Aeon Citadel of Amberfall. Continue reading “The Stone-Winter War”

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A Will of Bitter Winter

The bright, white moon shines above in the sky, clear and far, whilst the red moon wanes. Samaia, the goddess of life and rebirth, has dominion this night over her sister Ashyara, the goddess of death, as the white moon shines strong. The snows of the Lochlands are falling softly and silent in the lands of winter. Meredith Lockewood, the only child of Lord Theodore Lockewood, looks up and closes her eyes so that she might once more feel the cold and welcoming embrace of her home on her cheeks. For too many nights she has suffered the sight of black, cramped walls in the dark, with only the occasional flicker of firelight or the desperate wails of another captive for company. Continue reading “A Will of Bitter Winter”

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The Lost Heir of a Broken Line

Blind Mans Road. It is a name that was given to one of the perilous mountain paths that leads to Amberfall, the golden city of the Summerpeak Mountains famed for its glorious, if a bit rain-ridden weather, magnificent architecture and the infamous Aeon Citadel. Most of the time, travellers are able to navigate this road with ease, often stopping as they do to observe the breath-taking views that accompany such a journey. Every now and then though, a mist descends upon the road that makes navigating its singular pathway treacherous. This was one of those times, only much worse. Continue reading “The Lost Heir of a Broken Line”

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