In The Beginning...
Journal Entry of Commander Wychwethal Truespirit; Descendant of Daith Truespirit; First born of Athel Loren and warhost to it's Mighty Army,
Week 1
The loss of so ancient of a relic is felt across the vast expanse of Athel Loren. I am left to the hunt and scarcely know where to begin. So far beyond the Waystone boundary of our lands we feel the corruption within the ground and ache to be free of it's taint. We long to be back for the Winter's harvest of EastWood Glen. The Wild hunt of Orion shall soon be dormant and we will miss the Hound's Festival in the close of the season. I can only hope that I need not send runner's to seek further aid in our endeavor. I have enlisted the personal aid of a wardancer troupe in our quest to recover the revered relic of my ancestor, Daith's Spear. However, they are reticent to enlist in my aid and have seperated themselves into two groups. One such gorup has chosen to teach me the finer points of fencing and fighting. I only hope their lessons do not warp my purpose to far that all I know is the dance and War.
We have a lead to a field of battle that is being waged to the north and we hope that whatever other Warhost's we find their will yield lest we crush them under root and arrow.
~ Wychwethal (Predating the loss of the prince of Athel Loren and His Descent into "The Dance")
Week 2
The springtide of war I wears heavily upon my conscience, so much death awaits my path and I am forced to continue forward. I have not yet recovered the Spear of Daith and I have only found blood and ruin along the way. A veritable number of foes have been drawn out of their homelands all seeking glory and riches, which I find myself slowly being seduced by their dance of death. Only in the glory of battle am I finding refuge and solace in the purpose of my task as warhost leader. Near the end of the first week of our campaign I have come to wearing less armor and more daring feats upon the field of battle. The Wardancers have alllowed me to join in with the larger core group of them, so that I may 'dance' the war drums of Kurnous. I've taken so heavily an ally with them that my Branchwraith ally has left us and in her stead a more wisened wizard has arrived. Her name is Syltania and she has brought an additional host of dryads. I suspect they are here to make sure I do not fully succumb to the ways of the dance. It is fortold that the path of the Fey spirit is costly to our kin, and the the tide of battle will drowned us all if we do not master it.
~Wychwethal (Predating the 'Descent of the Dance' A history of Athel Loren's Warmasters)
Week 3
The leadership of the war council has been passed on to much 'safer' hands to ensure the conclusion of the campaign...fools. Since our last battle the sorcerous has bound the forest spirits to her will and refuses to allow them to continue forward. After an armed confrontation between myself and her Dryad champion I have been forced unto the bondage of Calivnor's Stave. The Stave holds my 'wild' nature at bay, long enough for her to send for a waywatcher kindred whom has been hunting orcs in the area with his brethren. Once he arrived it was easy for her to suggest the 'need' of his aid and therefore outranking my position as head of the war council. My wardancers and I have gone into the deep dance and I believe they will son intiate me into their kin. They say my aptitude for the dance has elevated their first impression of me and that I will soon earn my tasmalic tattoos. Then with the power of kurnous I will be venerated and i'll openly challenge the Waywatcher noble. I also hear the steady of drums of the wild riders in the den of night. Soon they will join us and the fury of the forest will devour our enemies. Then I will claim the spear of Daith and take my place among the great warleaders of my time.
~Wychwethal (Excerpt from 'Descent of the Dance' A history of Athel Loren's Warmasters)
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