A change of scenery, was what Seamus had called it. "Consider it a retreat from your retreat," his lord Alain had said. They were right: he had spent too long in Bretland, leaving only for the fateful Battle of the Estmore and to procure supplies for the steady wave of immigrants to the wild frontier he called home. Bretland was a cold and unforgiving place, with icy mountains, vast forests and scattered villages clinging to the rocky coast, a much different place than her sister island Teodin.
Roland had enjoyed the solitude at first, but as the years wore on his circle grew smaller, until he saw only the knights at his Lodge and even to them he spoke little. It took him a long time to see the growing darkness in the mirror — too long, and from the long strain he lost his beloved lady. He spent the long winter nights hunting, embracing the bear within and stalking the frozen wilderness for worthy prey. Then the ground thawed, and construction of the refugees' new settlements could be finished at long last. No sooner was this done than he requested a temporary assignment in RhyDin, leaving Sergeant Mariel to run the Bretland Lodge in his absence.
Bretland had a Councilor now, and a newly appointed Governor: the island would manage without him, at least until winter.
But this was not to be a vacation. On the road to RhyDin he received news that the Scathachian Temple there had been razed to the ground....and new orders, too. He arrived at the Sanctuary on foot, dressed in a crimson collared shirt, simple trousers and boots well worn and muddy from the road. He wore his sword at his hip but carried his coat and his pack over his shoulder, having bypassed his Order's Lodge in New Haven to bring his message to the Sanctuary first. However he was not seeking shelter, so as a knight, he would seek permission to enter:
"Priestesses," he called. "I am Roland Gravois, a Knight of Saint Aldwin. I have a message for Isuelt from my lord, the Baron Alain DeMuer." At that he produced the letter from within his pack, holding it out to show the wax seal on the envelope: the seal was the same as the pendant on his necklace and the mark on the pommel of his sword.
Roland had enjoyed the solitude at first, but as the years wore on his circle grew smaller, until he saw only the knights at his Lodge and even to them he spoke little. It took him a long time to see the growing darkness in the mirror — too long, and from the long strain he lost his beloved lady. He spent the long winter nights hunting, embracing the bear within and stalking the frozen wilderness for worthy prey. Then the ground thawed, and construction of the refugees' new settlements could be finished at long last. No sooner was this done than he requested a temporary assignment in RhyDin, leaving Sergeant Mariel to run the Bretland Lodge in his absence.
Bretland had a Councilor now, and a newly appointed Governor: the island would manage without him, at least until winter.
But this was not to be a vacation. On the road to RhyDin he received news that the Scathachian Temple there had been razed to the ground....and new orders, too. He arrived at the Sanctuary on foot, dressed in a crimson collared shirt, simple trousers and boots well worn and muddy from the road. He wore his sword at his hip but carried his coat and his pack over his shoulder, having bypassed his Order's Lodge in New Haven to bring his message to the Sanctuary first. However he was not seeking shelter, so as a knight, he would seek permission to enter:
"Priestesses," he called. "I am Roland Gravois, a Knight of Saint Aldwin. I have a message for Isuelt from my lord, the Baron Alain DeMuer." At that he produced the letter from within his pack, holding it out to show the wax seal on the envelope: the seal was the same as the pendant on his necklace and the mark on the pommel of his sword.