Chapter 4 (11th of Iecanaon in the year 6199)

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To the warrior seeking to become a knight, the angel's challenge is the final test

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To the warrior seeking to become a knight, the angel's challenge is the final test.  Only once met can knighthood be attained and only by the grace of a cleric of Earoni blessed with the power of true healing. 

Decrees 15:16 

Since Anthony left our ranks attempting to reignite our alliance with Fimmirra and the Elven Kingdoms, the Rebellion has collapsed into disarray

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Since Anthony left our ranks attempting to reignite our alliance with Fimmirra and the Elven Kingdoms, the Rebellion has collapsed into disarray. Many of the more hardline faction leaders, those who believed in him as a key to pushing Rwan towards a more zealous stance against Lord Hedric, have entirely splintered off from the rebellion we all have struggled so hard to maintain for the past two decades.

Two weeks ago, a group of dissidents led by Haran Myson, leader of the Crimson Eye Faction, attempted a strike against an Imperial store house. The raid failed, and they fled to the Hamlet of Tuske. There they were able to hold off the forces pursuing them until Sub-General Nightwing arrived with reinforcements. They fled to Myson's farm nearby, but were later surrounded and, despite repelling an initial assault on their position, were overcome when Sub-General Nightwing ordered the use of dragons to burn their refuge to the ground.

Our spies reported that there was but one survivor of the attack, Galelia Myson, the seven-year-old daughter of the faction's leader.   She was reportedly taken prisoner and her fate has yet to be determined, and it is not clear-

A coughing drew Daphney's attention away from her journal, the one thing she felt kept her sane in these trying times. As she lifted her eyes from her rickety table and her work, her soft white robes swept about her. Patches covered many of the holes in the dirty old burlap of her tent where moths and other insects had nibbled at the fabric. A slight summer breeze allowed in through the open flaps played with the flame of the candle by which she wrote. Laced with humidity and warmth, it did nothing to provide comfort from the lingering heat of the day.  

She looked over to where Rwan rested on a mat of bundled straw, sickly and weak, covered with the thickest blanket she had available. Even with the evening's warmth, he complained of being chilled. Placing down her quill, Daphney approached where he lay. She knelt, drew a cloth from a bowl of cool water, and she settled it across his forehead with gentle fingers.

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