In Character Reports

## Prologue

   ***A letter, from Lady Alecto Blackthorne to the Dark Sun Councillor, Lady Ealasaid Tallach.***

'Writ upon the seventh day of the Strawberry Moon, in
the year 1292of Blessed Asa.

To the most excellent Lady Ealasaid Tallach, Thane of
Tàileach, and Councillor of the South, from Lady Alecto Blackthorne, Thane of
Dubdris, and her loyal servant. She, and the warriors of the Third Unit wish
for your health and tender their lawful service with all respect and honour.

On the sixth day of the strawberry moon, on patrolling
near the Skovvan border, we met with the first Cohort of the Legion of the Maor
Dlí, and soon after encountered a small expedition from the Circle of the
Arcane, as well as several members of the Guild of Croesus who claimed to be on
a ‘trading visit’ to the South. Whilst we were establishing the reason for
their presence, we were approached by a wild and desperate man, who claimed
that his village had been attacked. Seeing no reason to waste the extra forces
we had encountered, I took charge in Lady Larka’s absence, leading our group towards
the column of smoke we could see in the distance. Although the others resolved
to cooperate with us, there was still plenty of bickering and arguments as we
factions went on our way, which were only halted by our arrival at a burnt and
decimated village. We searched for survivors and found a young woman, who
seemed panicked and disorientated, as well as a man in the same condition. As
acting commander of the warriors unit, I questioned the woman and found her
lack of knowledge about the village and surrounding area suspicious. Upon
harsher questioning, the woman broke down emotionally, which unfortunately caused
me to relent slightly, and using this opportunity, the woman quickly slit my
warrior’s throat. Half of the party went in pursuit of the woman, and they
captured, trialled and executed her, whilst the other half stayed behind to
examine the village whilst I was healed. Meanwhile, the man proved to be
working with the woman, and slit the throat of Spyder, the Guild’s unit leader.

When everyone was patched up, we decided to head in the direction of our attackers. We were surprised on their way by the arrival of Amontya Faelen of the Circle, who decided to join us in our quest.

   Heading through the woods, we met two mercenaries, who refused to *let them pass. Our forces quickly overpowered them and I interrogated them,*

along with the other unit leaders. As the highest ranking Warrior present, I
was left to determine their fate. As they were two young local boys, lured with
the possibility of financial support for their families, I gave them a second
chance, on the condition that they joined the Warriors of the Dark Sun. The
two took the opportunity, and headed off towards the nearest Dark Sun base,
with my promise that I would hunt them down and kill them if they betrayed my
trust. Heading further into the woods, the we fended off attacks from more
mercenaries. Several of the mages present, when meditating to regain their
energy, experienced strange and disturbing visions. Others suffered from
strange electrical shocks and tingles the further we travelled, until the hair
of many was standing on end or being tugged by a strange force. Cracks began to
grown in the alliance of the factions, as many began to display differing
opinions of how to question those captured, with many disliking the harsh

methods that the Legion seem to prefer, whilst others showed distaste for the work of our own necromancers.

   We eventually moved on after making our way through a large number of mercenaries, all of whom seemed to be guarding something. Our forces

eventually found their way into a heavily wooded area, where we encountered a
large number of foes. Wave after wave attacked us, and the factions fought them
all off, until suddenly there was a cataclysmic sound and a robed man appeared
from the air, lightning dancing from his fingertips, announcing himself as
‘Lord Thunder’. It was a hard battle, but with an amazing effort, the our
combined forces somehow defeated this warrior, and finally we were victorious. However,
many were troubled. This man displayed powers which have not been seen for
almost a hundred years. We allowed members of the Circle to examine him, whilst
others discussed a way to find out answers. It was decided that Lord Anastasius,
one of our Dark Sun necromancers, would lead a ritual to contact Lady Death,

asking for aid. As a tribute, Jugo, one of our finest scouts, offered up one of his eyes as a sacrifice to the Dark Lady.

    The mages were successful in summoning Lady Death, who appeared before us in the form of a hooded and cloaked woman. However, she was insulted

by the fact that the eye had been damaged during removal, and they were unable
to gain much information from her. Furthermore, when closing the ritual, one of
the Circle’s mages made a mistake, and several people were injured. We were
left to discuss the knowledge learnt from Lady Death, as well as the mage’s
visions, and finally the Circle, Guild and Legion headed back to their
respective command, no doubt to write letters similar to the one you have just received
from me.

This is a faithful account of the events that transpired, and I
await your command, my Lady. I hope that this letter finds both you and your
family in good spirits and good health,

Blessings of the Gods be upon you.

A. Blackthorne'

Content by Alessa L.

## The Search

After the discoveries
made by the factions, the Council decided to create an expeditionary force
formed of units from all four factions, in the hope of improving inter-faction
relations. When news of trouble in the east reached the councillors, they
decided that it was time to put their new project to the test.

### Tenth Day of the Hunter’s Moon, 1292 BA

***A missive from Lady Larka, delivered by courier to Lady Jean Grey, High Scribe to the Dark Sun Councillor, Thane Tallach:***

'*The*
courier is left with the strictest instructions that the content of the letter
bearing the seal of House Daepad is to be delivered, with haste, directly into
the hands of her Ladyship Jean Grey, scribe to Councillor Tallach of the High
Council. A small side note is also attached and is shakily handed over to the
recipient, along with the letter: ‘Failure to follow my instructions may result
in the loss of a finger…or two. Do not tempt my fury, I’ve had a very stressful
few days. L.D’.

To my Lady and friend,

Please find enclosed within this letter my missive
detailing our encounters during our expedition into the forests of Hunsow.
There is much to tell, my friend, and not much time to do it in, after all the
Suns have a wedding reception to throw (you will understand soon enough). I
hope this letter finds you well, as the Suns will need your support more than
ever in the weeks to come, myself included as things grow ever more restless in
my homeland, the details of which I shall send in another letter at a later
date.

Walk strong, my friend and watch your back.

L.D

P.S. Forgive my sometimes casual writing skills, you know me well enough to know formal isn’t my style.

    **Day One**

 From the comforts and safety of the city walls, our forces were sent forth into the depths of the Hunsow forest, to find the source
of the unrest within...

The Dark Sun journeyed into the Hunsow forest with
the vigour and passion I had missed bitterly in my time away from them, Hell I
even missed Anny, stubborn, sarcastic bastard that he is. *Please do not let him catch wind that I actually missed him, I’ll never*
hear the end of it. *However for all their strength and resilience, the*
Warriors were not immune to the feeling of dread that fell upon us as we
entered the Hunsow, the very air seemed heavy on our shoulders and the
unnatural mist hung in the air like a ghoul and groups of lost souls sprang up
from the mists, stumbling blindly. As a result some of the least resilient of
our large party began to grow weary and their minds wandered from the task at
hand. *An interesting note: Those affected*
seemed to all be human, myself, Anny and others of Elven origin were initially
unaffected, perhaps something to look in to should we ever have need to return.

Our Warriors lead the way into the dread Hunsow
followed by the Guild of Croseus and the Circle Mages and bringing up the rear
were our fine Law keepers of the Legion, never had the colour purple made me
feel such a strong sense of indigestion. The Legion’s holier-than-thou attitude
and the waggling of their precious rule book has never sat well with me and
they hardly approve of our own methods. However despite our differences their
strength was highly appreciated in the tests to come…for the most part.

Upon entering the forest we were approached by a
solitary man cloaked in green who identified himself as ‘The Scholar’ claiming
that the disturbances within the forest stemmed from the presence of an
artefact. At that time our Scholar friend did not know or did not wish to
divulge the nature of the artefact and provided no further information of the
matter, *how irritating.* Although our
interests appeared to be the same, something did not appear trustworthy about
this man, a fact that even dear, simple Leofric could tell. However these fears
were quietened by the bustling of the Legion, keen to help out any stranger who
jumps out of the mist.

The party were lead through the woods into a nearby
clearing in Krefter, a safe enough vantage point positioned well out of the
reach of the thickening mist. Our Scholarly friend, although thoroughly
unhelpful in terms of the artefact itself, did tell us of a clue within our
camp. Within no time, I discovered a small roll of parchment which pointed us
to our first destination: The Crossroads. I passed on this information to Spyder;
the Guild and the Warriors had worked together in the past with great success
and Spyder was one of the few outside the Warriors who had earned my trust. With
our first clue in hand, I collected a small, fast-moving unit to locate the
Crossroads. Jack, Leofric and Magne were left in camp to keep the others in
check and cover our disappearance.

At the Crossroads, Merryn uncovered our next clue,
another rolled up parchment with nonsensical words upon it. *Reminder: Send for Alecto’s old tutor and arrange*
lessons for Merryn, if the girl’s going to receive messages she’d better know
how to read them properly. *The clue pointed us toward the Silvian Gate the*
quickest route to which was through a rather lovely sounding route known as The
Bone Pit, much to the delight of my necromancer friend.

The delight that was the Bone Pit, lived up to its
name, bones, bones everywhere ~~and not a drop to…fuck, who am I kidding? I
can’t write poetry.~~ There was a heaviness in the pit, something pushing
down on us. Skeletal fingers of countless lost souls reached out toward the
Silvian Gate, as if willing us to move swiftly. Then I heard a voice within the
mist, something was calling to me and as we continued the voice became louder
and more urgent. Then I stopped. I heard it even clearer this time, a voice I
had not heard in many decades, a voice that froze my very soul. And there she
was, as clear as daylight, my mother. My friend, you know I rarely succumb to
my inner grief, but she was warm and real. It has been at least thirty years
since the ‘accident’ as the Elves dare to call it, but in that moment I was a
child again and wanted nothing more than to be with my mother as she pulled me
further into the silent comfort of the mist. Suddenly the dream was gone and I
was bound by Anny’s spell and pulled back to the safety of the path, after

which my mind cleared. For all our arguing Anny and I owe the other our lives many times over and once again he proved what a loyal friend he is to me. *He can never hear of this.*

    We continued on with haste, feeling the influence of the mists on our senses as we approached the Silvian Gate. Once there Merryn

uncovered another clue, but by this time the mists had taken their toll on us;
clouding our vision, mimicking the forms and voices of our memories in an attempt
to steer us from the path. In the midst of the confusion, we lost our way along
with two of our clues, yet the torments continued. *Delightful, this forest just kept getting better and better.* Somehow
we found ourselves on the path back to our camp, but at this point my stomach
felt worse than the morning after my Dark Sun induction, *and that was bad, you’d remember.* Something definitely had it in
for us in that damned forest. We eventually stumbled back into camp, and I vomited
in front of my companions. However as I looked up to see that the unfortunate
recipient of my vomit was a purple-clad law keeper, my embarrassment melted
away into laughter. *If you ask me, the*
colour of his shoes was vastly improved by my contribution.

The humour of the moment was short-lived, to my
horror I found that my remaining men were nowhere to be found. The other
factions informed me that the men, out of their loyalty and worry for my safety
and that of Alecto, ventured into the mists after us. Returning to the Bone Pit
was too dangerous at the time, all that could be done was wait for the men to
follow our tracks back to the camp. Although Leofric was new to our ranks, I
was confident that Magne and Jack, both capable fighters, would see them safely
back. Thankfully, within a short time the three returned, but something was
amiss. Rather than re-joining us in the protection of the camp, they refused,
claiming that we were in danger and Mange implored us to join them outside the
camp perimeter. It was clear to see that they were not themselves; the usually
resilient and hearty Mange seemed unusually shaken, even the calm face of Jack
betrayed a glimpse of agitation. Like us, the mist had clearly taken their toll
on them and clouded their minds, but their loyalty bid them to protect us from
an unseen threat. No words could sooth their agitation, no command could force
them to move, so calmly I passed the threshold and joined the men bidding them
to disarm, no luck. They were subdued quickly and brought back into camp and
upon awakening their minds seemed clearer, although they remembered little of
our encounter. *I’m glad, I’m certain*
Mange would want to give me a matching bruise to the one on his head, sorry my
friend.

After bringing the
Warriors back into the safe confines of the camp and relaying what information
we remembered back to Spyder, the Dark Sun relaxed, *for once.* The strain the mists had left on us, both physically and
mentally made us unfit for travel for a short time, so the men were ordered to
rest while members of the other factions continued the investigation. During
our respite in camp, we witnessed several lost souls stumbling past, seemingly
drawn to our presence, some were armed, putting the camp on edge. The poor sods
had no idea what was going on yet something compelled them to enter our camp, *a poor decision.* As soon as they stepped
into the confines on the camp, the creatures cried out in agony, especially
those closest to the ritual circle (that had been cast while we were gone) and
in their pain, they struck out against us. The Legion subdued two of the
creatures and bound them to a nearby tree for questioning. It was a futile task
in my opinion, the one that would talk was in utter confusion and talking
gibberish and the other poor soul was so weak from pain he could barely move,
let alone answer any of our questions. Upon the advice of Jack, I gave the
order for it to be put out of its misery. Jack ended its life cleanly and with
the utmost compassion, much to the anger of the Legion and Lady Spyder, but
they soon calmed and saw reason; no one deserved to live in that pain. After

that catastrophe, we mostly ignored the lost souls knowing that they could not enter our camp easily.

    A disturbance at the edge of camp drew our attention; a young woman in distress approached us, seeking our protection from

the men following her. Alecto, with her kind and curious heart, took the girl
under our protection ad soon deciphered from her panicked words that she was
being followed after accidentally setting her home on fire by means of her
uncontrolled magic. No sooner said, two purple-clad figures approached, one was
a cataphract no less, *oh joy,* the men
accused us of harbouring a wanted murderer.

What followed was a blur of shouting, rule books
being shaken and the Circle mages frantically trying to protect one of their
own from an unjust punishment. The Dark Sun took a step back, *apart from Alecto…ever the diplomat,* this
was not our fight and I was not willing to risk all-out conflict with the
cataphract. Although admittedly, even our own purple companions jumped to the
defence of the mage, attempting to talk down their comrades, *I’m glad it wasn’t just me who though he was*
a royal arse. *In the midst of the chaos, the mage ran for freedom with Jack*
and Alecto covering her escape…it seems The Dark Sun had chosen their side and
Anny and I had no choice but to follow. As we reached them, an unarmed Alecto
was struck by the renegade cataphract, and panic gripped me. Alecto has fought
by my side for many years, but it never gets easier to watch her come to harm.
Panic boiled into rage and while a medic saw to Alecto, Anny and I confronted
the bastard who dared to harm her and had we been given the chance we would
have torn out his entrails and shown them to him.

No such
chance was given to us. The men escaped our wrath, but for once the Legion
agreed with us; the cataphract had to be brought to justice. We agreed to their
terms *for now*; should the bastard
return with anyone other than his superior- he’s ours, *his head will look lovely hanging from a tree.* Despite our
agreement with the Legion, I informed the men in private that should they
happen to come across this cataphract and he is alone, and they are certain of
their skills as killers, then he is to be ended and disposed of. No slight

against The Dark Sun will go unpunished. *Blood will have blood.*

    The following section of my report was…surreal, to say the least. If the ink

appears smudged, it is simply from the tears of laughter at recalling this
event*. A stranger approached the camp, upon closer*
investigation he did not appear hostile. The stranger was one, Sir Gerald of
Fedora and he claimed to have vital information that would aid in our search
for the artefact, but it came at a price. Usually I am not one for
negotiations, but I was curious. Sir Gerald was a sentimental chap; his price
for the clue was marriage to a member of our party, so that he may find comfort
in a family in his old age.

We were
unprepared for such an unexpected demand and many immediately rejected the
idea, but the clue Sir Gerald held was vital to our search. I was quietly
suggested as a potential candidate, however not only am I not currently
interested in marriage, but as a landed Lady with a vast estate, *and yes, I am still a royal despite what the*
Elves say, *I would be marrying down. Then Leofric, dear, sweet, simple*
Leofric came into my head as a perfect candidate; the boy came from poverty,
but marrying the Knight would give him lands and money. Although I am unsure if
Leofric really understood what I was asking of him, he agreed to the match.
Through my fits of laughter, I conducted a short ceremony and pronounced them
married, *although I need to make sure*
Leofric doesn’t try to sell or, our Lady forbid, eat his wedding ring.

Sir Gerald gave us our
clue and left, with not so much as a goodbye kiss for his new partner. Should
Leofric grow tired of Sir Gerald, the Dark Sun have made it clear that he is
welcome to have a contract taken out on his new husband, Leofric is one slit
throat away from being a wealthy man. *Before*
I forget, please find enclosed an invitation to the wedding party, which will
be something you will not want to miss. Poor Leofric is in for a huge surprise
when it is time to consummate his marriage, I’m not sure he even knows what it
means!

***Note***
for the courier: Send word to my estate in the north to prepare five barrels of
the good red to be shipped out to my location, plus a few bottles of those
Elven Schnapps.

Our party joined together to decipher the clues we
had and they all pointed us to the same location: The Bone Pit *as if I hadn’t already had my fill.* The
camp gathered themselves and set off back into the mists, but the strange
forces of the forest were just as insistent at making our task difficult as
they were before. The spectres even got to Magne, who I had to draw my blade on
to prevent him wandering into the mist. The spectre of my mother followed me as
we journeyed, calling to me and I was close to losing myself again, but with
Magne’s encouragement and rousing war song to lift our spirits, I stayed
strong. After the difficult journey, we arrived at a clearing in the Bone Pit,
but something clearly did not want us there. The Guild located out next clue
which spoke of Nitphil and there were talks of summoning the god. Bad idea! The
Warriors know better than to meddle in the affairs of any god. Look what

happened last time! *Anny, I’m looking at* you!

    Once back at camp, there were still plans to summon Nitphil, an idea which the Dark Sun argued against, but to no avail. Dearest

Julie began conducting the ritual, *which*
I stayed as far away from as possible*. This entity agreed to aid us in our*
task, for a price *no surprises there,* Nitphil
demanded that a favour was to be promised by one of us, to be redeemed at a
later date. Knowing the risks of making deals with gods, the Dark Sun refused,
but Urbicus of the Guild offered himself up. It was at this precise moment that
Julie made his most grand mistake to date, he lowered the damned circle wards
with the entity still within, *good job*
Julie. *The pact was made, the clue handed over and the ritual ended, then*
the ~~shit storm~~ situation took a turn for the worst. It seems this
Nitphil managed to release some of its influence outside of the circle when it
had been opened. Several members of the party began acting strangely and
hallucinating, I was not spared from the madness. Once I began seeing flowers
growing from the heads of my comrades, I lost all composure. *Nothing has the power to bring me to fits of*
crying-laughter than seeing daffodils growing from Anny’s head.

Our final clue lead us to a site not far from camp,
a statue of the Princess Anara. Once the chaos died down we made our way to the
statue with haste. With the help of the Circle, the source of all of our
troubles was finally uncovered, in the form of an old book. We thought
ourselves victorious and made ready to return to the city, but unfortunately,
life doesn’t like to be so fair. In an instant the entire party was paralysed,
but my eyes saw clearly, that green cloaked prick, after getting us to do the
hard work, swooped in a stole the book from our grasp and disappeared. I do not
enjoy being stolen from, so naturally I was pissed off, what didn’t help was
Anny getting a magic boner over the Scholar’s powerful necromancy skills*.* As night fell there was little we
could do but return to the city empty handed, although the Warrior’s rage was
great they needed rest and time to plan our next course of action, I knew mine-
giving that Scholar a swift kick and a second smile.'

***Here Lady Larka's Missive ends.***

Content by Georgia B.

### Eleventh Day of the Hunter’s Moon, 1292 BA

***The second day of the excursion is recounted by Magne of The Warriors of the Dark Sun in the following missive:***

**Of Bones, and Blood**

**Day Two**

Compelled by coin, and most would argue against all reason,
when morning came we steeled ourselves and ventured back into that foul hell, a
march that was beset by madness, as much as dread; for the longer we spent in
the Hunsow's heart, the deeper its roots drank of our sanity. First it teased
us with trickery, unveiling a banquet with which to break our fast, but as the
mages examined this feast, objects began to wreak havoc upon their senses.

Innocuous as they were innocent, black-hued bears bore dark
secrets, children's trinkets which surged with energy and sapped the air of its
warmth. Naturally I, being of the Velsek tribe, felt little of this potential
the mages discussed, for our woad sigils shield us from such sinister spells,
but when a chest was unlocked the force of its vehemence caused even me to
stagger, as a lawkeeper's lust loosened its latch.

The merchants saw the situation for what it was though, and
offered up one of their own in payment to the God of trickery, who i'm told
requested a boon from the portly pilgrim, to be collected at a time of their
choosing. This appeared to appease the deity's desires, at least for now, and
so the dweomer that defiled the picnic dispersed, leaving us to reap the fruit
of the merchants' labours, a fitting return for the safety our swords provided
them on this expedition.

It wasn't long, however, before the forest struck again,
restless as waves ravaging a distant shore, because hordes of foes spewed forth
from the brambles of its maw, figures who, once felled, returned anew through
some necrotic thirst. Girding the Lady Larka, whilst Leofric and the mages
sought the scholar's trail at the shrine where we had lost it, my blade sung
loudly for a time, as corpse and claw alike broke upon the bulwark of my
shield. As it turned out, these deathless demons were but a distraction though,
as somewhere within Hunsow's black heart the scholar mustered his might,
gathering power for the battle to come, for he knew the Dark Suns would not
relinquish the artefact to him, not until our lives had set and dusk swallowed
dawn.

Eventually the mages finally prevailed in their task,
summoning the Suns from the shelter of camp to bolster their companions about
the shrine of Anara once more, for it seemed that the scholar had escaped our
clutches before through a portal. Pursuit was inevitable, I suppose, but the
energies they unleashed when they rent reality asunder were terrifying to
behold, as a door bled into being, and the expedition leapt into its crackling
confines, vengeance hot as blood on their lips.

I cannot say how long we journeyed through that aether,
assailed by winds that howled like Fenris, as the heavens wept and worlds
flashed before our eyes, but when we emerged from that passage my blade stood
ready, searching for a foe to fell. That was when the darkness came, as
factions faltered and death stalked amongst us like a plague, threatening to
smother souls less stout than I, as the Necromancer's spawn attacked.

Amidst the cacophony of battle though, and the chaos that
ensued, I saw a knight of bile and bone, a titan whose blows sent lawkeepers
scurrying like rats, before the fire of its gaze. Where most men would quail,
however, I rejoiced, for here finally was a foe worthy of my strength. We
clashed as thunder, our weapons echoing like an avalanche upon the
mountainside, each warrior seeking to snatch victory from the broken jaws of
the next.

Despite the ardour with which we fought, death would not
claim us that day, for even as the knight crumpled beneath a flurry of blows,
it lurched to life once more, like a veritable Lazarus from the grave it came,
besieging my shield with such ferocity that my wrist begun to buckle and then
break. Before it could inflict further injury, however, the scholar drew into
view, chased toward me as much by fate as my companions, who lay broken and
bleeding throughout the reaches of the copse.

I surged into motion then, my opportunity seized and my
sword swinging savagely, assaulting the Necromancer with a storm of steel,
before finally they fell, their sorcery silenced by the fury of my war-cry, as
I vanquished the fiend and cleansed the forest of their evil, once and for all.

**Epilogue**

United beneath a common cause, this was not the first time
that the four factions had triumphed against seemingly insurmountable odds, but
whilst the journey for some ended that day in the Hunsow, those that survived
were forever changed by the events that unfolded there, from a search that yet
stains their souls.

***Here Magne's Missive ends.***

Content by John H.