The Golden and the Maroon

[displeased]

--1801--

"Issue your challenge, I shall defend my name against whomever wishes to sully it. Do you have that issue, Lorekeeper?"

An open missive tackles down the foot of mount Tarian, storming down onto tribes, towns and outposts alike.

It is the word of the young pyre-bishop of Garljing's Coat, one nearing on adulthood, whose vesper and service have been topic of rumor and commentary alike for the better part of last year.

It calls for one name - answers to one invitation. A challenge issued towards the wayward family, namely its heading emmissary.

"Vales Grimmore.

I have heard your case, as have I my overlords'.
In prayer I have communed with my wishes just as much.
I hereby bring unto you my conclussion.

And where you once sought to fight for your name's sake, as ridden of honesty as I may take it to be?
I have chosen to follow up.

Come the dawn of next year, you and I will duel at the Temple's Blood Pit - observed by nay other than the divine five themselves.

Were I to win, you and your kinsmen would cut all ties with the empire!

Were you to accept my challenge, and I lie defeated as a result? I'd drop all animosity towards your kinsmen - and instead adopt the inexistence of the price on our heads as the truth proper.

Waste not my time!"

A claim so bold and zealous in itself - it surely cannot be disguised as a rumor, for it is no less than Orodyn Vartuul's word.

His patience composed, his statement made, the challenge issued proper.

The dragon awaits.

(Date and Time to Be Determined)

[CrystikRage]

Word travels fast, aggressive and entertaining challenges all the more. It takes little time for the acceptance of his challenge to reach Vales' ears.

A response is sent as wide as it shall go.

Orodyn Vartuul, Lorekeeper

You mock my honesty, with nothing to judge it for.

You mock my honor, with nothing to judge it for.

You believe the words of piratical fish, citing their own lack of either is precisely what makes them trustworthy, as if that makes a shred of sense.

And you accept my challenge, with conditions that insult me further. I have my own. When I win, you will hold the fish accountable for their crimes against your people and not forgive them simply because of 'what they are'. I will have witnesses beyond the wordless flame, for you have given me no reason to trust you any more than you trust me.

I will not be judged by the actions of my ancestors, nor will I be slandered by words and actions that are not my own. At your Dragonlords very suggestion, I attempted to address the issue, and was laughed at.

Still I am doubted.

I will not wait for you to prepare as the fish wished to. I will not sit idle a year for you to mock, slander and insult my name simply because it pleases you.

You will have your battle within the month, for I do not need a year of your time, I need only a minute.

These are my terms. If you refuse them, then consider the matter dropped and my claim validated.

I'll see you in a months time.

[displeased]

The response comes swift.

"So be it."

TODAY (Sunday 10/4) - 8:30 PM EST
THE GAUNTLET - 515, 868, 1

[displeased]

After a gruesome battle in which both ambassadors of their respective heralds give their all, be it by virtue of word or physical effort, the discrepancy comes to a definitive close.

Orodyn Vartuul, thus far lorekeeper and heart priest of the fireblooded, pulls a narrow win over the head of the family, grievously wounding the astyan in his wake.

"Visitors... Brood-brethren... Red God Garljing! You've all witnessed this fight...! Let this be a testament of our diplomacy!

For today, the Grimmore sever all ties with the city of rust!"

In the aftermath of the bout, and by virtue of victory and proper championing of their traditions and interests, Dragonlord Varceal proudly declares Orodyn to now be the fourth Dragonlord of Garljing's Coat.

Upon deliverance, the younger Vartuul accepts the title, calling onto his brethren - attributing to them the feat as well.

"Garljing keep us all, my brothers.

Remember tonight as a feat of my doing naught, but our beliefs in act!

Roam free!"

The Grimmore, freed from their liege to the empire, are offered a second chance to clear their names, and fight the fight they're meant to - in the way they're meant to.

The dragons soar proud.