Overview - Seeking - History

Overview

Crimson Rain, or the Order, is a guild of respected nobles and vassals. The Order consists of seven Houses, most named for their patriarch and widely known for their talents.

Disrespecting the Leader(s) of the Order will earn Rapture upon your head.

The Order is known to be elite warriors, the faint of heart need not apply.

Requirements to Join

A brief summary of the houses has been included in the local library. Learn them. The leader of whichever house is sought will be the first point of contact for seekers. Whatever requirements are given by the House leaders must be fully met.

Next, the seeker should send a scroll to the Order as a whole, introducing themself, giving a brief background, including the House that is willing to accept them, should they pass testing.

Final testing will be violent and will come without warning. All seekers are expected to be prepared at all times.

A vouch from two current members of The Order is required for a Seeker to join as a recruit. Final House positioning follows no set procedure.

Last but not least, Seekers are to declare their intentions to join the Order in their banner. Wishy washy soldiers are not welcomed, so do not apply to one guild and then another hoping to gain an easy ride in.

Crimson Rain is for experienced players of Dark Risings.

The History of the Order

Bloody Rain

The Order started as a mercenary army on the far shores of the Dragon Sea. Some of them were nobility before joining some were raised to title the old fashioned way by strength of arms. They were hired by Emperor Vermadi, weak, decadent, and half mad, to put down a widespread peasant rebellion brought on by extremely bad crops coupled with heavy taxes. At the time they were just a ragtag band of malcontents with a thirst for action and a disregard for the 'sheep' of the common peasant class. With Imperial charter, they systematically brutalized their way across the principate, covering ground at an astonishing rate in what came to be called 'the Rapture', a lightning speed blitz of cavalry and bloodlust. Cavalry charges over unarmed rioters became a trademark, as was systematic chain lightning into packed groups. They were dubbed the Army of the Bloody Rain for the siege breaking tactic of catapulting captured escapees back into walled towns, sometimes alive, sometimes dead, sometimes in pieces. As the magickers of the army learned techniques of animating corpses, they would sometimes catapult bodies in that would rise and attack the defenders from inside the walls. The terror and disease and total destruction of morale that this brought made the Bloody Rain a name of abject fear among the countryside.

Once the rebellion was broken, the officers of the army and the men who had served demanded titles and lands en masse, which the relieved emperor granted. The army became formalized as the Order of the Crimson Rain in gruesome mockery of their commoner nickname. They were divided into 17 Great Houses. Some were old noble houses that had gained from the war, some were companies or squads within the army that had gained title from the Emperor. As the Emperor grew more secure in his throne, he began to realize several things: there was now an elite force of nobles that owed no real allegiance to the throne and might have designs on the throne themselves. The merchant class and part of the peasant class were raising hue and cry over the butchers he had sent among them. And lastly the old nobility were grumbling about the special favors bestowed on the low class new elite.

In time he came to believe the only way to settle everything was to banish the Order. He had to send them as far away as possible, a coup had been set up for DeGraz to sieze the crown and since any neighboring country would declare war were the Order to breach their borders. It took some tricky diplomacy, but in the end the leaders of the Order agreed to leave, if for no other reason than boredom in the new peace. Some of them had gotten a taste for the refined life, some had always lived that way, and some continued in much the same habits they had always done. The Order formed up and marched aboard their vessels to cross the Dragon Sea to this land. In the middle of the Sea, a massive storm arose, sinking most of the fleet. DeGraz and a few of his advisors have come ashore to seek their men who survived, and to begin the process of replacing those who have fallen.

The Declaration of the Lord Marshal

The sounds and smells of the Wayside Inn overwhelm me as I step through the doorway. Esme has just had another batch of pipeweed bread delivered from Three Firs and the smell of the bread sent my mouth watering. Several non-descript peasants bowed and curtseyed at my arrival and I merely nodded their way.

Dropping a curtsey to the silent, standing Lord Marshal, I turned my attention to Bastien and took a seat beside Drake, Lord of House Skarlon. I eagerly waited for the tale that Bastien would be performing.

Raising a hand for quiet, Bastien looked around and then rested his hand upon his guitar. The room fell silent and all eyes fixed upon Bastien. 'This tale is by special request by the Lord Marshal DeGraz of Crimson Rain.' A slight grin crossed his face as he gave Angela and Nautique a look.

Once Bastien knew he had the full attention of the room, he began, 'There once was a steadfast Rain by the name of Steadman. He was but one of many shining stars the Order gave rise to early in its career. None could stand before him without feeling the cutting edge of his axe.' Bastien lightly strummed his guitar, images of battles and Steadman filling the room.

'However.' Bastien chuckled and took a look around the room, his eyes falling upon the seated Nautique and Angela. Angela shifted uneasily in her chair, clinging to Nautique's arm.

Bastien gave a slight smile and continued, 'Steadman did meet his match one day.' Bastien paused for a moment, allowing the crowd a moment to absorb the tale. 'He was beaten. By sword you say? Nay.'

A slight smirk escaped from the silent Lord Skarlon and I chuckled.

'By staff or another axe greater than his own?.... Nay.' Bastien closes his eyes in rememberence. A great hush hung over the always noisy Inn and I felt Lord Skarlon relax with the coming of night.

Bastien gave a small laugh, 'Steadman was struck down by the love of a woman.' He began picking his guitar and an image of a man and a woman in a lover's embrace materialized in the room.

'Ahhah! Ees always zee case!' Lord Skarlon exclaimed. A ripple of laughter spread out through the room. Glancing towards the silent Lord Marshal I wondered about his feelings towards this tale and kept an eye on him.

'Steadman no longer cut down enemies by the droves for the Order. He laid complacent in the arms of Denna. She tamed the wild beast within him and no longer was he the hero of the Rain.' Bastien again strummed his guitar and the shimmering of a new image filled the room. Looking over I saw Steadman and Denna lying upon a patchwork quilt in a field of flowers.

'A great battle was coming and Lord DeGraz went to find his generals. He came upon Steadman lying in a field of grass with flowers strung in his hair and Denna whispering the virtues of peace and nonviolence in his ears.' A smirk escaped Bastien's lips, 'You see, Denna was a follower of peace, through teaching she felt she could bring peace, talking rather than fighting in all situations. Even if it brought your own death it was far greater to die than to lift a blade in anger.'

I found myself chuckling in response to ideals I supposedly once shared and wondered what I was thinking in my youth.

'Lord DeGraz was outraged that his general would fall to one such as this.' Bastien looked around in amusement. 'DeGraz, seeing this development, never let his outrage show upon his features. Instead he confronted the lovers. And with a cold dead look in his eye ordered Steadman back to the barracks and magicked Denna to the farthest reaches of the realms.' Bastien strummed his guitar and an image of the seperated lovers shimmered brightly.

I turned my attention back to the Lord Marshal and I saw him carefully study both Angela and Nautique. Nautique shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the Lord Marshal's gaze.

'When Steadman returned to the baracks he seethed with anger at DeGraz and came to a decision. When DeGraz entered the Barracks Steadman immediately asked for release from the Rain to live his days with Denna.'

'I see thees ees a tale of those no longer weeth us.' Lord Skarlon murmered in my ear. I nodded and kept my gaze upon the Lord Marshal.

'DeGraz, never one to lose his cool, slowly poured a glass of fine mulled wine and took a seat before Steadman.' Bastien continued strumming his guitar and another image shimmered in the room. I watched the Lord Marshal take a seat at a nearby table and pull a small pouch from his pocket. Taking a half dozen silver nails from the pouch, he laid them neatly on the wooden table.

Bastien continued, oblivious to the Lord Marshal's actions, 'As he set the glass down, a flash of light and a flicker of movement Steadman lay upon the ground with three slashes to his face.'

The Lord Marshal lay his hand palm down on the table and picked up a nail.

'He uttered a few arcane words and Denna was summoned to them.' Bastien strummed his guitar and the image of a fallen Steadman and a bewildered Denna filled the room.

I flinched as the Lord Marshal pushed a silver nail through the back of his hand and then looked up slowly at Angela, pushing another nail through his hand, pinning it to the table.

'When she saw her love lying upon the ground in a weakend state she tried to run to his side. Within a blink Denna was restrained by DeGraz and forced to look upon Steadman.' Bastien strummed his guitar, the events of the story unfolding more and more. 'He whispered softly into her ear and said "Such is the weakening effect of a woman upon a warrior".' As the Lord Marshal looked at Angela, blood began to well up around the two nails.

'"Never would have Steadman let himself be attacked as he has, nor would he be lying there with my wrath beginning to scar his face. If this is what love is then I see only one recourse but to declare war on love."'

The Lord Marshal fixed his gaze upon Angela, his face impassive, then flicked a glance at Nautique, the hunger beginning to show on his face.

'A Rain should only have one love,' Bastien began quietly, 'The Love of the Rapture!' He exclaimed. I nodded in agreement. 'With that he released Steadman from the Rain. Before the eyes of Denna he slew Steadman, releasing him forever.' Bastien strummed his guitar and the image of a slain Steadman and frantic Denna filled the room.

'He left Denna with the corpse of Steadman.' Bastien stopped for a moment. 'It does not end there.'

Strumming his guitar lightly he chuckles, his tale suddenly interrupted by the Instructor of Mishrynk.

'And what of an heir, Marshal? Should not the men be encouraged to produce, and continue their heritage?' He challenged. The Lord Marshal paid him no heed and concentrated on the nails, both beginning to glow.

Bastien took notice of the events transpiring and chuckled, 'As Denna lay crying over the slain Steadman, DeGraz walked from the Barracks, not even looking back he conjured a ball of flame and lit the barracks.'

Bastien stood and bowed, 'That is the end of the tale.'

The Lord Marshal concentrated on the nails and both began to rise from the table and his hand. Looking at the unfortunate couple, the nails dropped and the Lord Marshal strode from the room, Nautique following in a puff of smoke. After a slight shake of his head, the Instructor soon followed suit.

'I would hate to be him,' I whispered into Lord Drake's ear and gave Angela a disapproving glare.

'Jes, me too.' Lord Skarlon agreed. As Bastien made his exit the noise of the room picked up.

I was told nothing of the conversation between the Lord Marshal, Instructor and Nautique of Trung. Angela soon disappeared from the realms, and Nautique soon after. What became of either of them I don't know. Part of me wondered if they had suffered the same fate as Denna and Steadman and another part of me hoped that someday I would not suffer the same fate.

-Kalani, Annalist of the Order
BattleMistress of [Taranai]

Pallareth, Instructor of the Order

Barely twenty summers old, Pallareth, younger son of Lord Galatea, became the sole survivor of a peasant revolt against his family. Lacking a specific target to focus his rage upon, he joined the Mishrynk Academy.

Pallareth proved to be adept with all the weapons of war, though he favoured edged weapons. In particular, his love of the bastard sword soon earned him a fearsome reputation among Instructors and students alike at the academy. His skill tactics was sketchy, but he was a keen study and always learned from his mistakes, his desire to prevail burned deeply within him.

His only stumbling block came when he and Haeron met during a training session. Neither could penetrate the others defences, though each was hard pressed to keep his opponents sword at bay. The mutual respect grew between the pair until they were fast friends. They were often found sparring or studying well into the night, then again before breaking the morning fast.

He soon advanced in all subjects at the academy until both he and Haeron graduated, evenly matched at the top of their class. The pair joined House Mishrynk. Pallareth, still lacking a purpose in life, found the action as a shock trooper of the Bloody Rain to his liking. Haeron had his own reasons.

Not much is known about Pallareth's deeds. He remained a nameless sword for many years and served under the 10th battalion of Mishrynk, a small group designed to put down small peasant revolts in the kingdom. Leaders came and went in the battalion, men fell, others replaced them. While never getting close to any like he had Haeron, Pallareth did make sure to learn every trick and tip from each of them. Again, he never forgot a lesson.

One day their camp was under attack by armed farmers and mercenaries, their numbers overwhelming the battalion. The commander of the battalion had fallen to a cowardly arrow in the back. Seizing an opportunity, Pallareth, now a battle-scarred veteran in his middle years, took command of the battalion and ordered a runner to be sent to the Lord Marshal for assistance. The battle raged on, Pallareth backing the battalion to a defensive position to make their stand. For every man of the Order that fell, so did three or more of their enemy. By the time help arrived, only Pallareth and one other still stood, covered in their own blood and that of their fallen opponents.

Pallareth was returned to the Academy to recuperate, for his wounds were grievous. While recovering, he chafed at his idleness, and sought ways to make himself useful. He soon found outlet in assisting the various instructors stationed there. His years of sponging information on every aspect of combat provided him with a vast array of knowledge, tempered with years of combat experience. He proved to be a superior instructor, in almost any field, and when he matched blades against his arrogant pupils, they soon learned what a lifetime in battle had done to his reflexes and stamina.

Pallareth's Instruction at the Academy saw a significant improvement in the graduate standard and so he remained there. He was aware of the importance of his role, yet still the lifestyle was not quite to his liking. Finally, upon Haeron's return to the Academy, Pallareth was recalled to active duty, assigned to the Lord Marshal himself.

Kaliska Evermonde

'Next!' Bellowed the Recruiter.

I stepped up to the makeshift desk and presented myself to the Recruiter. A smirk escaped the fat balding man and I frowned.

'What do you want girl? This is a line for signing up for a war, not for a beauty parlor.' His beady eyes ran over my frame, assessing my clothing.

Ever so carefully I adjusted the purple, velvet cloak about my shoulders and stared coolly at him. 'I am here to join the Order. My weapons are the dagger and whip. I can learn others with ease.'

The Recruiter and his assistant guffawed at my reponse and my fists tightened their hold on my cloak. No one had ever laughed at me, my father was a man of power and respect. He had held the lands as a Marquis for years, long before my fifteen years of life.

'Move along girl, the Order is no place for a girl of your breeding, or any girl for that matter.' with a dismissive wave he called out 'Next!' and some peasant boy shoved me to the side.

I fumed inside, how dare he! He didn't even allow me to give my name! What sort of fool would bar entrance to any willing candidate to go to war? Least of all me?

I kept my angered stride up and walked further into the slums of the town. I wasn't sure what I would do. I had to fight in this war, there would be no way I would let my father lose everything he had worked so hard for.

'Hello there, you seem to be in the wrong side of town.'

I turned to the voice and found vagabond looking me up and down. The boy was dressed in bulky tunics that were quite tattered, as were his pants. A tattered hat sat atop his head and a somewhat holey cloak swayed in the wind. I made a polite smile for him and tried to ignore the smell. A stray thought had entered my mind, and I hoped it would work.

'Yes, I am lost sir, perhaps you could help me find my way back to the Inner city? I'm sure my father would reward you handsomely.'

A large grin split his dirty face and he nodded. 'Aye lady, this way please.'

The boy must have thought me a fool, because he led me even further into the Outer City and into a darkened alleyway. As he turned to ravage me, I uncoiled my whip and lashed it about his scrawny neck. His eyes bulged with surprise as I forced him to his knees and held him there, closing off his air supply.

'Did you think me a fool peasant? I was playing with whips and daggers long before you thought to ever take a girl against her will!'

He tried to shake his head furiously as he clawed at the whip around his neck. Tightening the whip, he gave a strangled gasp and went limp.

I quickly dressed in his rags, disgusted beyond belief. 'I hope my father will be happy for what I have done for him.' Coiling the whip around my waist like a belt, I drew my dagger. I gripped the handle and shook, the one thing that I did not want to sacrifice were my fiery locks from my mother. I winced as I sliced away my hair and dropped them with my dress and cloak. Keeping the gold I had taken from home, I stuffed everything into a nearby trash can and made my way back to the line. 'I will have that recruiter's head,' I muttered.

Posing as a peasant boy had earned my way into the ranks of Crimson Rain.

I spent a lot of my military career posing as Varlan Andoren, a stableboy who often had taken care of my horse for me. It was a miracle I was able to trick my instructors for as long as I did. Or perhaps they were letting me think I was.

The war on my father's lands had lasted for a little more than a year. Paying allegiance to the Lord Marshal, he had gained favor with him as well as protection. For nearly that whole year, I fought an opposing noble's house and their army. Due to a dagger in his back, the opposing noble died and left command to his eldest son. A boy only two summers older than me, he had always infuriated me. The grin I had for him as my company (which I had lead myself, as I had gained rank very quickly) slaughtered his, was huge. As he and I fought, I revealed myself to him and swiftly made a deathblow.

At the age of sixteen, I had helped defeat an army and killed the boy who had always thought he was better than I simply because he was male. Yes, life was good. Until my little secret was found out. Some jealous soldier who was under my command had learned of my secret and had reported me to the commanding officer. Unsure of what to do, he locked me in a cell and sent word to the Lord Marshal himself.

Much of that time was a blur. The Lord Marshal sent for me and I was placed into a high ranking battalion, to my surprise. These days I am guessing it was so the Lord Marshal could keep an eye on me. After the many battles I fought and helped win, I was granted a spot to serve directly under the Lord Marshal. I was appointed Task Mistress of Trung within the main battalion of the Order, the Elite. I am to prepare recruits for their chosen House and lead with Instructor Pallareth during the Lord Marshal's absences.