Twilight Chronicles

Odd how the oppressive nature of a siege, led by a demonic prince no less, compels a warrior to set aside his blades long enough to chronicle what has transpired in his life. At least as much as he cares to reveal to any that might come to find his records later. It is with this thought that I set out to begin to chronicle my story and the stories of those with whom I travel. Some I call friends, some I call enemies, but their stories are no less pertinent to my own.

When I assumed the role of Harbinger to the Twilight Vanguard, after my brother was called home following the death of our father, I was intrigued at the prospect of meeting some of the men and women he’d left behind. In my travels throughout Britannia, even as I wandered alone, I often heard of their deeds, their valor. Even with one of the Archon’s blood charting the course of events, like me, my brother was an obscure stranger here at his outset. Marius, as he was once known, had no obligation to do anything besides wait for his time to be called home. Instead he amassed a horde of wealth as an adventurer, acquired a sizable keep on an island in the far flung reaches of eastern Britannia, and founded the Twilight Vanguard for the explicit purpose of defending the whole of Fracture where the nobility, the gentry, and even the monarchy might fail.

Make no mistake, we are no band of white knights, nor are we an order of paladins. We were not during my brother’s reign, and perhaps even less so in my own. What I learned almost immediately when I assumed my role was that in our time apart my brother had developed a side I had never seen. True, he was not war kindred like I was, but he most certainly had all of the qualities necessary to assume his new role in Tel’fahria. He had won all this with none of the advisers, the wealth, the opulence, and anything else that would be granted to the newly minted leader of Tel’fahria. This is where his story ends, and ours begins. If nothing else, my brother had an eye for refining talent. A man who dared to burglarize the royal treasures of Britannia was certainly a brazen criminal, but was also a man of considerable skill. These were talents my brother recognized, wished to refine, and like any true son of Tel’fahria understood were necessary despite the objections of society on moral grounds. Anything with enough power to threaten the entirety of a world does not care to listen to the pitiful moaning of right and wrong. That is not to say that they were without moral qualities, but sometimes an appropriate application of solid indifference is what may be required to win the day. I came to find that the Vanguard’s ranks included, larcenists, pirates, holy men, merchants, experts in the arcane, all manner of fighters, and even spies. In terms of its racial makeup they ranged from simple humans all the way to tieflings, and anything one might imagine in between.

These are their stories.

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