Ossinett

Eight flayed men were strung up in the forest, their bodies equidistant in a circle clearing. At their centre, a great pile of bloody flesh and was carefully laid out in spiral. The sight was hideous but what truly stuck out was the smell, the smell of death so cruel lingered in Ser Don's nose as a unsettlingly familiar guest. The sooner they moved on from Stormberg's vicious forests the better, even war in the south was favourable to whatever horror this was. The Cornayan Fa

The walls of Aureswind seemed to sneak through the trees as Bill and Georgina rode forward, appearing through the limbs of green and brown like a stone sunrise. The dark walls were tall and ancient, speckled with ivy, arrowslits and the fluttering banners of orange and brown. As the pair rode their horses up towards the main gatehouse, the forest floor gave way to cobblestone and the sound of the hooves beneath them alerted the birds and bannermen to their arrival. Aureswind

Bill watched as the Holden knight drove his horse forward, lowering the cinquefoil-tipped lance with expert precision. The purple fabric danced in the air as the knight rode, painting a trail of a twilight sky behind him as the steed thundered towards his opponent. When the lance struck its mark, Bill forgot entirely his training as a respectable lord of the realm - he burst from his seat with a cheer and a fist raised so high that his knuckles grazed the fabric of the Darlyn