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Hushed conversations are had in the Cadomyrian tavern. “Has the Letma invasion been forgotten?” Says one man, peering idly into his half drunk mug of beer. “I do not know. But I am tired of sitting here waiting for something to happen. It is making me nervous.” Says another.

A cane thumps upon the wooden floor as a man enters, the candle light bouncing off of the gold trim on his red doublet. The tavern patrons turn to look, but quickly decide he is not worth their time to bother and return to their conversation. A grizzled soldier leans forward and grunts his disapproval, “Sitting and waiting is what we do best in Cadomyr.”

An armored woman rolls her eyes, “Surely we can do something. I am tired of fighting off reds in the desert. It is like we have just dug in and decided to weather the siege. Letma has become a living nightmare!”

Another man speaks up, not seeming to pay any attention as the cane wielding man walks behind him. “Of course we have dug in. Everyone would rather sit in their villa than deal with the task at hand!” Those around him look up as the middle aged, gray haired man slides onto an empty seat. “At this rate, we all might as well move to Galmair, at least they try to fix their problems instead of letting them fester.”

“So why not do something about it?” The older man asks quietly, suddenly drawing the attention from all at the table. He sips from his goblet, ignoring the wide eyed stares of his fellow warriors.

The table sits silently for some time. No one daring to speak a word. Finally someone works up the nerve to respond, “Yeah, but what? They will never let us strike out and deal with the problem on our own.” This comment causes the older man to smirk and he looks to each and everyone of them in turn. His ice blue eyes seem to have a fire behind them, or is that the flicker of candle light?

“Meet me on the ((25th of Feb)) on the market square. At ((19.00 GMT+2//1 pm EST)) we march on the temple of Sirani.” Their collective jaws drop. He down the last of his drink and sets the goblet on the table. Slowly he raises and collects up his cane again. “Spread the word far and wide across Illarion. We shall deal a heavy blow unto the forces of Letma.” And with that, he leaves the tavern, his unadorned silver cloak fluttering behind him.

And as with any good rumor, unless you know where it begins, you don’t know where it begins. But feel free to spread it far and wide across Illarion. In the taverns and market squares. Hushed tones fearing that the wrong person might hear or in loud celebratory conversations while drinking with friends. But spread it far and wide, for I am sure you have heard of it somewhere.

An old dove travelled far and wide, across the unsettled, aqua marine blue oceans and over the cloudy mist of nameless mountains. Determined on its path, the bird even upheld the audacity to venture accross the unruly place they called the shadowlands... And it was there the feathered creature would find him.
Exelous had left the bureaucracy of Cadomyr for a more simple way of life. Spending his every waking hour following the path set forth by Malachin. Camaraderie and brotherhood were best served in the hands of those who were yet to be disillusioned as he. Vanquishing all that had been touched by the hand of the bonelord that he could lay his weapon upon, he had resolved instead to seek the life of the lone wolf of justice. It was to be his final chapter.
Although the warrior's body had grown more scarred, bloody and bruised, his determination and resolve remained unflinching in his desire to rid Illarion of the evil that resided there. He was prepared to die this way, amongst the lonesome glare of the wild-lands. A lost soldier to be found without flesh and unnamed. Buried in the drifting sand and forgotten with time.
Fame, notoriety and grand heroic feats were meaningless to him, for the one eyed soldier of Malachin didn't care for them as he once had, like most others, in youth. Though, the letter he received that day would encourage him to reconsider his direction. Sober his options. Clearly, there was unfinished business to attend. His decision would gain no merit from the potential stories to be told in victory... Only in that it was the right thing to do.

It didn't take long before Exelous turned on his heels to walk in the direction of Mount Letma. He would set up camp beyond the sanctuary of Cadomyr and await the day. "Good. Time to end this.", he thought.

One day while the Sun of the Desert was on the highest point the following happened on the Cadomyrian Marketplace:

Another man with an Eyepatch was just walking past the Market as he stopped in his tracks after hearing some Conversation between Frobenius and a customer.

"Did you already hear?" asked the Customer. "It seems like someone wants to go against the Forces of Letma. It would be great if this horrible Situation would finally come to an End."

"Hah!" Frobenius answered. "What can that little order do anyway on their own?! As long as we have the Noble Houses with us, as well as the Steam Alliance we will surely make it through in one piece. I also heard that they ask aid of those filthy Galmarians! As if they want to let them in to take over our Home! If they really plan on doing such a thing this Gryphon-guys really can kiss my A ...."

just as Frobenius wanted to end the Sentence a towering Shadow came into his sight. it was the man with the Eyepatch who held a eerily looking sword at his Shoulder and just smiled at Frobenius.

"Frobenius ..." the figure said with a deep and rough voice. "You should finally let go of old grudges. Many people who witnessed this "Almost-War" against galmair do not even live here anymore. And even more moved here after the whole thing happened and only know it from old messages on the Boards" the figure explained with a smile.

"St-still ..." Frobenius answered a lot calmer than before. "Letma is the Problem of CADOMYR and it should be CADOMYRIANS which solve it!"

The figure just kept smiling.

"And that is where you are wrong. Letma is by now a Problem of all Towns nearby. Cadomyr, Runewick and also Galmair."

Frobenius answered. "Well ... i can understand if Cadomyr and Runewick work together ... but Galmair? Most of the people there are just Coinhungry crafters!"

The figure sighed then and answered:

"And we do need crafters as well to bring down the Pillars at the Temple. blowing them up and destroying Siranis Tear even more can not be an option. And who knows better how to handle structures of massive stone then Crafters? Miners and Stonemasons? Like it or not Frobenius, but to deal with the threat of Letma, and to free lady Siranis Altar many are people are needed. many people with different skills and maybe even mindsets. The only thing that counts is the ability to work together like the towns always do in the Bloodmonth. But i think i have taken enough of your time. May Malachin grant both of you his Protection."

Then the blackhaired towering figure, wearing an eyepatch and the massive Sword on his shoulder went straight south while a Silver cloak could be seen fluttering at his back, and the both people looked after her while the customer mumbled to himself:

"They need miners ...? I wonder if i could take part of freeing Siranis Tear then ..."