Monday, 17 April 2017
....And it was the deepest part of the coldest winter Ard Chreag had ever seen, that winter of 2013, that the gods sought to punish us and sent Skadi the Snowshoe Huntress down from mountains as a messenger of their wrath. As she paced the length of Septentria that night, water turned to ice as it fell from the sky, coating everything that stood in her way in a thick sheet of ice.
The next morning, we woke to a quiet ice-encased world, the likes of which has not been seen before or since in Ealdormere, though our friends in the East Kingdom may beg to differ.
Unfortunately, the Library of Ealdormere, now fireproofed, was not prepared for Skadi’s onslaught and suffered great damages before scribes were finally able to chip through the ice and reach its sanctuaries. Upon entering, they were greeted by a river of ink, and their great shouts of frustration were heard as far as Calontir.
While THLaird Colyne had kept copies of much of Ard Chreag’s earlier history in his own estates, much of the history of (A.S. XLI to A.S. L) remains scattered among its members.
THLady Ailis and Runa Astrysdottir have spent many days combing through pages of tales strewn across the webs of time the mess to assemble some coherent order in the chaos and collect the tales of Ardchraog’s adventures from among its many stalwart members.
What follows is a scattered account if those years, histories retold by our own members as the Scribes of Ard Chreag continue to attempt to defy the forces of the gods and nature. Round 3! Fight!