Serreayan Kilendrial

Elf, noble, Swords of Light, beautiful, charismatic, shoots fire from her bow.

From Vanguard...

Writings

I am Serreayan Kilendrial of the house of Elvallie, and I swear to uphold the righteous path of my honored house and name. This was my oath, to protect the kingdom, and expand it when needed, and serve the people as they serve the crown. What people do not seem to realize is that there’s every bit a chance that I may be queen one day. King Vorien was also of house Kilendrial, and there are two direct descendants before me in line for the throne. What people do not know is that one will be likely found out to be a fraud, claiming his bloodline through his mother and a forged document of house mergers, and the other, Sannairre, will refuse the crown. He courts and prepares as if he will gladly take the honor, but this is because he is expected to, and expects the pretender to succeed in his deception. It is because I know of this deception that I am certain it will fail. So Goblin will pass to Orc, who will pass to man and then to me. In all likelihood, I will be queen, and few know this.

It is because of this, not in spite of this, that I leave the comfort and security of the walls. A queen must serve her people, she must expand the borders of her empire and she must know what it is to risk all in battle before she commands soldiers to do the same in her name. By doing this, I realize that I may never be queen. That my time may be cut short before the crown ever touches my brow. If I cannot stand as a queen who can say she has seen firsthand the wonders and horrors that lie beyond the walls, what good am I to a people who need me to lead them into the world? So I go.

My greatest task was in choosing my accompaniment. Gear and horse were easy choices, but of those to step with me beyond the wall, I was hard pressed to reason criteria by which to judge worthiness. Is this a blessing and honor I am bequeathing on loyal and courageous warriors, or a death sentence unjustly inflicted upon honorable soldiers? Am I handing out blessings, or damnation? At least I will be joining in their fate, glory or folly.

The first, and perhaps greatest battle fought on this journey was with my father. Hours upon hours of rhetoric and logic hurled back and forth like some wizards locked in an epic duel. He spanned the gambit playing on my worth, at first stating that I was not ready, but I countered that if I wasn’t ready than I was no great loss, and he desperately tried to fight for some level of worth between too worthless to help the cause and too important to risk. The more he struggled, the more I fought back with prepared and determined reason, tested against my brother who has aspirations of court that rival Tivas himself. He has been my secret confidant against father, and every bit as important a combat instructor as those who taught me bow and sword. He was the one who handed me the winning strategy just before I stepped into the tower with father to have this last discussion. As I struck the final and winning blow, looking into my father’s eyes and saying, “I have no malice in my heart for you father. I do not seek to flee a prison of these walls which keep me safe and I do not seek adventure for adventure’s sake. I am perfectly aware of the risks I am taking and it is because of these great risks that I feel I will emerge more fit to lead than if I did not take them. No one can know how their story is written and one can die just as easily by accident, sickness or poison lying in bed as in combat in the wild. So let my story be of a loving daughter who will hold on to her father’s love as she undertakes this perilous journey and use it to remind herself to return to him, no matter the cost.”

It was with that, I won my first battle. His eyes softened momentarily, and then he began suggesting knights that should accompany me, but assured me that no one would follow an untested leader into such danger. My father remained unyielding in both his stance that he does not sanction my adventure, but cannot prevent me from leaving. There is a certain politics to his position, I know, but it also mirrors his heart. He’s forbade my brother from encouraging me in any way, but my brother has learned far too much from father of the art of coercion and deceit to be kept from helping his eldest sister. Coin found its way to my hand and volunteers defied my father’s wishes to make up this band that I lead from the town. I chose a knight, a mage, 3 veteran soldiers and two younger recruits who showed great promise. My father’s goodbye was at once formal and also pregnant, as if he hoped I would break the uneasy silence with any chance to avoid the future, or perhaps show some sign that I was wavering. I did not. My brother Elil assured me that all would be well on the journey through a servant, so that father would not be aware of his unwavering encouragement.

As I left town, I could see many people selling objects that may be useful on our quest. I was tempted to part with some coin that I was saving for supplies for the trip, but Casrell, the wizard suggested saving my money for goods who’s value can be easily validated. While I trust Casrell’s counsel, there came an opportunity in the purchasing of supplies where my wizard was distracted, and I happened upon a man selling a sword. He was dirty, as if from hard work, and his clothes looked soiled, but still noble. He swore the sword he held was in his family for generations, but it was clearly of elvish making and he was certainly human in appearance.

I waved him over and quickly made the purchase, slipping the blade into my pack before drawing too much notice. Sir Devron clearly saw my interaction but chose to share it with no one, and I should thank him for his discretion when doing so wouldn’t moot the point. With that we were out of the city, but not on our way.

It turned out that the war wagons were not ready to move just yet, or perhaps they were testing the metal of the soldiers accompanying it by giving them a night between the city they’ve known their whole lives and the great open expanse of danger and unknown adventure.

I was assigned the castle banner, which I thought comical as I’ve been desperately seeking to leave those walls behind that now proudly stand displayed in cloth above me. It seems I cannot escape mortar and stone, be it literal or metaphorical.

Under this banner I have met many others who would represent their own factions in the securing of land and removal of our enemies abroad. Mostly humans, but clearly two people of dragon blood descent. Another elf, but she keeps to herself. Sad, I could have used another ally to confirm that what I’m doing isn’t crazy. A couple of priests, another knight, and several imperials. The highest station in our banner belongs to a curious human who appears to be more suited to court life than soldiering. It seems to me, the further away from the positions of leadership, the more fit these men and women are to lead.

For instance, our first few days met with difficulty in feeding the entourage. Several from our banner moved to help, the loudest being the knight Archon Bracher, descendant of Arcadeous, the old dragon mage who was ever present in political circles and deeply tied to the church. He organized the assistance effort and reportedly nearly came to blows with one of the army officers over their mishandling of the feeding of the men. When the food came, many leaders gave their portions away to their subordinates, unsure when the mixup would be settled. Some poured all the food gathered into one pot and ate equally. I wish I’d thought to do that, instead I chose to give my portions to my underlings, who refused to eat while I went without. Finally it was decided that I would eat one portion and they would share the other two among the seven of them. They also volunteered, every one, to assist with getting food for the rest of the camp. I already am more impressed with their loyalty than the words I use to describe such on this page.

Still, I fear that I may have led them to ruin. Days in a sickness fell across our company. Several fell deathly ill, including our priest. When a priest is so very ill so very early on such an important trip, one must wonder if we do not defy Divinaxus’s will by leaving the safety of the walls. Thankfully, no one died under the castle banner and everyone made full recoveries. I understand that it was not so happy news in every camp under the banner of the City.

I must write to my brother, and let him know of the adventures I’m already having. First, however, I must attend to the return of the scouts, for our very first chance to claim land in the name of the kingdom is upon us.