Honor & Heresy

Preface

Tenants of Dawnseve Manor,

I understand that this will prove to be a difficult and emotionally taxing time, and I am amenable to any suggested adjustments that may alleviate your situation, but immediate preparations must also be made for the following heir of the family.

My colleagues and I have reviewed the matter at hand and, after much deliberation, have decided upon a solution that will both adhere to our laws of primogeniture and clear the confusion brought on by recent developments—namely Roy Dawnseve’s fondness for old-world literature.

While I am loath to admit this, I will no longer stir rumors of false hope: Northgard is on the precipice of defeat.

We have held our own for three years, thrust into battle against an unassailable enemy, but to no avail.

We must thwart the Old Ones’ advance—and now.

In all fairness, we are in a state of relative safety, protected by our Radiant Droves and their batons and muskets.

But once, if ever, this storm dies down, there will be nothing to impede these soldiers from instigating full-scale invasion and subsequent annihilation.

Northgard will be laid bare by winter’s end and laid to waste by spring.

Despite our labor, particularly the hundreds of aborted military campaigns launched to rout the Old Ones, there has been close to no word on their identity, their reason of attack, nor their objective.

Evidently, the details my informants have procured, scarce as they may be, have done little to dispel the pall of fear cast over Northgard.

Even the Edict of Containment, once believed to be a surefire method of limiting contact with neighboring islands, has been rendered futile by the Old Ones.

Usually, I am not one to resort to desperate measures, especially those in which old-world literature are concerned, but as you can see, I am at a loss.

I write to you, Dawnseves, not only as the leader of this society but as a man bedeviled by his plight.

I entreat you to consider the following proposition.

I am offering Roy an opportunity to resume his studies, but rather than for his own gain, he would be working personally for me, investigating the Old Ones.

If you approve my proposal, he will promptly be sent to the Orphic Basilica to conduct research over the course of six months.

Supplies—food, beverages, notebooks, and any other necessities—will be provided upon arrival, then every month thereafter.

Alternatively, if you decide that my proposition does not bode well for you, Roy will follow in the footsteps of his brother and be sent to the barracks at the Iron Citadel, where he will be inducted into the Radiant Droves.

This is not a matter of business I take lightly.

This mission is of utmost importance. If any individual whose involvement I have not sanctioned were to become aware of this assignment—including the maids and butlers in your employ, who are not to spread word of Roy’s task—or interfere with it, it would be considered a breach of the Law of Intervention.

At that point I would have no choice but to ascribe an appropriate punishment to their, and thus Roy’s, crime.

Again, I implore you to take this proposition into consideration, and I expect a response within the following week. The fate of our city depends upon it.

Signed,

The Governor