The Exeter Campaign

An Account penned by Yaska, Lord of the Frozen Court, Dreadfrost of Albion

The Provost Outpost, if such a thing could be named an Outpost served as little more than a hole in which fearful Beastkin, beardless Dwarves and simpleminded Uruks hid from the storm. From their lips spilled babble of missing boys, all of fighting age, all taken when the storm rises and the wind howls. My arrival heralded that of the Warhost, near one hundred of Albions finest shod in steel, magic and where required faith. Through the storm they came, blades wet with the blood of Caligars bastard brood.
It was not long before the Queen was located and returned to us, though not before the enemy made his machinations clear. Queen Eloise was bound to the transport circle, a summoning time to the quartessle turning of the hours.
The night and day following was spent fending off the assaults of Unliving Privateers whom had come to pressgang the men into service, disease ridden cannibalistic Foxkin and Demonically possessed Dwarves, much of which offered me little in the way of amusement.
Blood however begets blood and in the wake of Shamans possession another of our number fell under the foul sway of Caligar, Matt Lehan of the Beastman Tride thought lost to the predations of the Caligar’s followers in March Wood returned to us seemingly unhurt. The deception was complete and as we fought to repell another party of Seadogs the poison planted in the Beastkins mind turned him against his own. Antonio of the Crows fell to his claws – another name for the book of Vengeance.
A dark harbinger, faceless and upon black pinions moved from warrior to warrior, searching faces until it found the ones it had been sent for. Hunters for the most, all named and placed upon an executioners list, I have no love for the Ancestors as they do, though in the face of that thing I would have advised they pray.
Come the second dawn, the Queens binding was almost broken, the elemental puzzle left for us unwoven and exposed for what it was. Steel drank blood and as the fray was joined by heroes and villains alike the cruse holding Queen Eloise to the circle of Exeter was broken.
Little more can be said of the rain soaked Outpost in Exeter, other than I no doubt will see it again sooner than I wish to. It is upon Son Lista we will meet again, perhaps the Unicorn Isle will offer kinder climes, though I am not bothered by the cold. I do so detest the rain.