Wardens of the Wilds
From Sanctuary Shard
Light and shadow. Life and death. The natural world, and the world of Man...all things must come to balance, and the Wardens seek to maintain that balance. We serve not only as guardians of the Wild places, but as hunters of the servants of the Enemy, for they are found in many places, not in Underhill only... We protect the lands we wander, though our sometimes fearsome appearance makes us seem dangerous, our honor stands firm.
- Player Names
- Raewyn Darkclaw - Ceannasaí (Chieftain)
- Kal Halfroad
- How to contact us
- Discord - Nyghthawke#0804 (Kutara)
- Send post in-game to Raewyn Darkclaw
- Come to a Wardens court/event and speak with a member
- Public Court is held on a weekly basis, US evenings
- Events occur throughout the week, check .motd for details
- Current Status
- A Banner House of Emlyn, The Wardens of the Wilds remain loyal to their ruling house, The Order of the Black Lion. Their lands - based out of the castle of Carigsay - are relatively peaceful, though they are not so foolish as to believe it shall always be so.
- The city itself is heavily fortified, a tiered mountain jutting out of the surrounding wilderness. As such, some of the locals have taken to calling the city of Carigsay "The Crag."
For centuries, mankind has feared the darkness, the wild places of the earth, and the creatures who lurk there. The bravest among them learned to fight back the malevolent forces, to allow their people the safety to exist. But they did not fight alone.
When human civilization was still in its infancy, the giantess Flegar took pity on the fledgling race. She, and others who dwelled in the wilds, took to protecting them from those who would wish them harm. Over the generations, their role of protector became one of mutual camaraderie, fighting side by side to protect their shared world. Though the members change, their oath remains the same:
Night falls, and I go forth to meet it.
I am the light in the darkness,
The moonlight banishing shadow.
I pledge my honor to my brethren
To protect Emlyn by word and by deed,
For I am a Warden of the Wilds,
And I protect these lands.
- Cernunnos - the great lord of the wilds goes by many names and epithets: Cernunnos, Lord Horn, our Horned Lord, but his story remains much the same. He is the guardian of the untamed forests and fields, but also of maintaining balance. With his mighty antlers, Cernunnos is a protector of the forest and master of the hunt. He is a god of vegetation and trees in his aspect as the Green Man, and a god of lust and fertility. To some of His followers, He is seen as a god of death and dying, and takes the time to comfort the dead by singing to them on their way to the spirit world.
- He breath stirs life into the birds, the beasts, the fields. His song soothes those at the end of their path. The heat of His blood stirs the passions of His loyal, and celebrations held in His honor are boisterous, spirited revelries.
The mercenary quietly veered his horse abreast of his companion, holding up five fingers against his chest, then five again. His companion spat, and growled a low curse. He knew this road was dangerous, especially after nightfall, but though he told himself it was only about the coin, getting these supplies to the northern border would ensure all of Emlyn's safety.
He urged his mount forward, looking to the doddering old man at the seat of the wagon, keeping his voice low. "Ten following, perhaps more. Brigands, from the sound of it. Unmounted."
"You up to earning your pay?" the driver grunted, never taking his eyes from the winding road.
"Always," he hissed, "but you only hired the two of us! If things go south, you'd best see how fast these mules can actually go, aye?"
The older man merely grunted once more, glancing westward as the sun dipped beyond the trees, casting the tree-lined road into premature twilight. In the distance, a raven called from its evening roost. Closer still, wolves howled as they began their evening hunt. As the shadows lengthened, the creak of the wagon no longer masked the hurrying footfalls of the brigands. The two mercenaries wheeled their horses about with a roar, unsheathing their blades from their saddle.
In a sudden, snarling surge, a pack of wolves burst from the surrounding treeline, streaming around the little wagon like a river around a stone. They charged past the mercenaries, lunging with slathering maws of fangs at the brigands. Chaos descended upon the road. As the wolves quickly engaged the brigands, storm clouds swirled overhead. Lightning crashed between the trees, flames licked at the tunics of the attackers, somehow bending to avoid the mercenaries and the wagon.
One of the brigands, marginally more intelligent than his crew, broke ranks and ran for the treeline. Heavy branches snapped before him as an ogre appeared; with one massive swing of his club, the brigand fell to the road in a lifeless heap. The mercenaries stared, stunned, as the wolves and ogre tamely backed away, so as not to panic the horses. A raven soared up the road, lighting on the seat next to the old driver. "We very nearly arrived too late," it remarked in a human woman's voice.
The old man laughed in delight, bowing his head respectfully. "I'd say you were right on time, Warden. We thank you for the assistance."
"Supplies for the northern border?" it asked, tilting its head to fix him with one bright eye. At his nod of assent, it croaked a low chuckle and took wing once more, circling low over the wagon. "You are in luck, then, sir! We are heading that direction as well." The raven flew back, over the mercenaries and slain brigands, to light on the ogre's shoulder. Their caravan substantially larger, they set off once more, fearing little that the night had to offer.