Voice of a Weary General- War of Thrones

The rain battered the high canopy leaves and dripped down the veins of prehistoric plants like falling memories. The memories whispered of warrior’s voices lost to the past. The smells of life washed out into the dirt through the rain-carved channels.

In all of this frenzy, surrounded by a living forest and captured by his thoughts, Aries sat in contemplation. His exposed chest revealing the scarred tortured flesh of arrow wounds as the creases in his brow deepened in remembrance of his dream.  His calloused hands rested on old knees as the General spoke to the Ancient Woods.


“My men will find me in this forsaken place and I am not anxious to be found.  I have lived a long life.  Although in the past, women and drink have kept me from my thoughts, today you have my full attention.  Behind my back, I hear the good people of the countryside curse my name.  From Waymarsh to the decrepit halls of Blackice Spire, creatures across the land follow the beat of my drums of War.”


The rain continued unabated as Aries focused intently on a spotted mushroom nearby. The drops infused with energy as they bounced from the canopy to the purplish cap. With each drop hitting the fungus, the great General could see within the splash a past soul that he had slain.  Aries thought to himself, ‘My father’s servant, a Rockshore bandit, a child...’  as he watched the procession of images flash before his mind’s eye.

Originally the war had been about territory, but boundaries shifted and eventually the reason for war was as much a part of the kingdom as the Tundra wolves the Northerners rode upon.  For Aries, this new page was the beginning of the end in the history of Easteros.


Aries knew the world needed a hero.  Only a champion will bring an end to this War of Thrones.


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