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 In ancient days there once lived a man, a knight of of Scots-norman descent who served the king himself as a scribe due to his talent with the pen. His name was Marcus MacDougall, and being cooped up in England while most of the other nobles of England and beyond fought for the holy land infuriated him. He longed to draw steel beside his sire Richard I and put the Saracens to flight. Duty bound him to his post however, and so he sat.


One day a messenger wearing the royal blazon approached him with a letter. Marcus took this, and read his king’s last order. Marcus was absolved of all vassal-hood and ordered to take ship and head for the fair lands of Trimaris across the ocean’s mighty waves. This he did, packing all his worldly possessions on a cog. The ship put sail within a day.


Ill fortune was to befall Marcus and his men, although they would have no knowledge of it. At first sight of land a terrible storm overcame the ship, and within such a fury no ship could ever stand. The keel split in two at the crack of thunder and the ship sank beneath the waves, taking all of Marcus’ possessions with it.


Yet, the nobleman survived and although unconscious after the thunderclap was washed ashore a day later. Thus was Marcus to find his way to the Shire of Starhaven on the eastern marches of Trimaris.


A local Baron of the name Maredudd was later to find him on the beach, his clothes waterlogged and ragged. Hearing Marcus recount the tale of his ghastly journey Maredudd offered to help the soaked noble find his way.


Thus one road ended, and another began.


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