An Inscrutable Conceit
Not seen since the slaughter of Endwell and West Bruin nigh on three hundred years ago, the word thresher yet sends chills down the spines of common folk while the gentry make light of their losses, as if the utter destruction of a frontier town and a fledgling city were a matter of myth.
But even as the rubble remains, the memory fades. Baron Slait, with the approval and support of his lord, Duke Crowlin, Knight Marshal of the West, took the Thresher’s Run with many a Knight under his banner to secure their future with glory. The frontier town of Endwell was rebuilt and fortified against incursion.
Fort Endwell enjoyed nearly a decade of peace, if not prosperity, before the first rumours of threshers reached a hushed audience of the Kings Court. The great threat had returned. Ladies wept while Baron Toyne, vassal to Duke Crowlin, marshalled his forces, some three hundred men and twenty Knights, and took the long road west, past Fool’s March, to reinforce Endwell.
Now, three moons since their departure, a contingent arrives with mixed news. The Fort is holding, the threshers reluctant to leave the protection of the forest, instead preferring to engage in guerrilla warfare. However, losses in those skirmishes have been steep. Eighty men and three Knights have fallen, the latter borne in caskets by Sir Bracks of Wolfwater.
The King holds court to determine a course of action.