knights of anathaeum

Syr Theros stood at a corner of Sanctum Ops, a bound ledger filled with pages of information on their crop of squires. Details on their studies and mannerisms. The sorts of things needed when considering assignments. Quests. Missions. Bebin hated it. Flipped through the papers all the same...

The metallic taste of blood filled Farren's jaws. The fur of the rabbit keeping her tongue warm from the biting cold of the winter air as she trekked back to her camp with Luther. Her paws made little sound in the packed snow; the evidence of her passing would soon be covered within the hour...

Morning light spilled across the browning fields of Gwinholm, its settlement pocked with the many shadows of laborers toiling to symphony of cockcall and birdsong. Isander worked among them, nails cracked and pores deep with dirt. Having arrived the evening prior with his companion and a wagon...

The sun was bright but not hot. Autumn still hadn’t decided to turn towards winter, even if there were few leaves on trees and the air was colder every passing day. Alouette raised up a tanned hand, blocking the sunlight from her vision as best she could while squinting her eyes to look up into...

Crisp autumn leaves cracked underhoof in the knights' wake as they rode the Valen's length. Leagues out from Svapna, still in the shadow of the Spine and within range of the tributaries trickling down, they made some haste across the Wilds. The hours blurred together as fog burned to afternoon...

The Valen Wilds embraced the small town of Sylvarin with a dense autumn fog, unrest lingering in its air. The once bustling community now grappled with an affliction as peculiar as it was dire. At the heart of Sylvarin lay the wellspring—a lifeline woven into the fabric of the town. For weeks...

"Can you recall when you saw this creature?" Saskia waited behind the other Knight that took the lead on the questioning. A young boy was sat at the dining table, wrapped in the thickest blanket she had every seen, but even then he still shivered with fear. Only four of them could fit in the...

Dawn cracked its yolk over the heathland sprawls that sprawled before Isander's eyes. He crouched low in the grass, dew-slick ankles creaking from the strain. Swathed in fitted leathers and padded linen, he made a survey of the land. Leagues separated him from the nearest hamlet, and he would...

As the sun painted a lazy line across the sky, so did Isander approach the hay-roofed hut on the outskirts of Svapna. He carried a saunter in his step, an ease about his crest. Routine, almost, some measure of familiarity guiding him. Svapna sat on the frontier, a town of small layers stitched...

Petra found herself leaning against the doorway to Selene's office, dressed in a casual blue tunic and dark breeches. The information she had learned from her dragon the day before finally felt ready to share and discuss after digesting all Norvyk had told her. Eyes quickly scanned the office...

“ You should reconcile. “ “ I think not. “ He didn’t raise his look at her from his reading. “ Why you’d think me at fault is beyond me. “ “ I do not. “ She responded softly, buttering a scone. “ But you are too angry. It reflects badly on the both of us. Our social circle— “ Then divorce...

Amidst the quiet charm of Astenvale, nestled in a cozy corner of the town square, lay the Wyvern's Nest. Its welcoming atmosphere was a sanctuary for those who sought refuge from the crispness of the fall morning. The clouds hung low, whispering promises of rain, yet the day didn't bear the...

Roki was busy packing his things. His brow knit with frustration as he shoved what little knick-knacks and garments he could into his ruck. "It'll be alright, Roki, you... I mean, it's just a month!" Lemock tried to console his bunkmate. Roki but grumbled, going on with his furious packing...

art by Kris Kukko Winter of 373 Astenvale Monastery, Within the Valen Wilds In the Sanctum of Operations "I understand your misgivings, Syr Damir, but Lord Dunstable would have been left in the wind had we sent none to support," Helena's eyes were trained on the map of the Valen before them...

The Knights of Anathaeum are preparing for their next swearing-in ceremony, where squires venture out on pilgrimage to the Eldyr Tree, and return to say their vows and become full-fledged Knight Sworn! Who can join this event? Exisiting squires! You can choose which sanctum your squire will...

Some time had passed since Roki’s misstep in battle with, as the Knights would soon learn, Rory Bellamy. Syr Noa had felt a twinge of pride that Roki had sorta-kinda-almost outwitted one of the Bloody Bellamy’s that were known to cause more trouble than Roki had. More importantly, she was glad...

The air was crisp, a frozen breeze rattling the bones of leafless trees. The battle had been over, the retreat had been called. Syr Margot had not returned home. Time passed, had anyone noticed she had even been gone? She couldn't even remember what happened, where she had been. Bare feet...

War had come to the Valen Wilds. Well, they called it a war, but in reality it was more like a series of distinct border skirmishes involving several Lords and Ladies that had, by all accounts, started to escalate. 'So, a war?' Turning his head, Syr Faramund, Sworn-Knight of Anathaeum, raised...

In a puddle of rainwater about two inches deep, was a day-old corpse. And not just any, but that of a knight, an actual titled and landed Lady. It was writ on the garb and features, kempt and unblemished save for a little scar at her cheek from some previous scrap. What had hit her this time...

It was early in the morning, crisp autumn air whistled through the changing leaves of the forest. Fog still crept upon the soggy ground, but that did little to stop the force of a very bored dragon. Kaida was in her human form, she couldn't remember the last time she had shifted. It was much...