Begin an ongoing tale of the past and politics, and add a new character to your deck.
Pennants flutter from the Heron, West and Tilted Towers. Your guards' armor gleams. Inside, servants teeter on ladders to pluck the last cobwebs from the corners of the great hall, and polish each of the thousand windows of many-hued glass. Amidst a blast of trumpets, His Dour Lordship of Alyons rides through the gates at the head of his retinue. He rules a neighboring province, and has arrived early for the Feast of the Divine. Dismounting, he kisses you drily on both cheeks. A narrow man, with drooping lips and a leaden sigh.
Available Actions Edit