Jaris could see only one path before him, and in most opportune fashion the desire of his own heart and the unbreakable bidding of his Liege were in alignment. War was the command, war with Myr and the vile monsters it had emboldened!

Jaris, though he spoke no such treason, would have charged unswerving into the heart of the mountains to put his sword to every Hob there. But his thirst for vengeance was not so grief-blinded that he could not see that his path must first divert through Myr and the murderers-by-proxy who tilled the land there.

That harvest season traitorous footmen of Myr and their Hob allies fell to sharpened steel in place of wind-bowed flax as the campaigners swept across the small nation. Jaris, having lost as much as any and with sword-skill in ample supply, found favor with the Duke, and was given command of those valiant warriors fighting deepest in the principality. Jaris took the forefront of every charge, as would any stalwart Knight, bestowing in his men awe and loyalty.

One village after the next fell to the brave vanguard, where Jaris meted out punishment in apt proportion. There was little honor, nor salve of retribution to be found in these battles, for only the blood of Hob could slake the thirst of his blade. Few were the Hob among the dead, and those few were farmers and conscripts, bearing none of the cunning or war-skill of the villains who had ravaged his homeland.

When autumn passed the campaign was halted, as only a foolish soldier would press deeper into the hills of Myr in the grip of winter. There was naught but sorrow and just rage to comfort Jaris through the icy months spent in a border-town bestowed not even with a name. There was a lesser Knight named Barnswell among those shivering through the days and nights, who could be called a friend to Jaris, as much as any man could be called a friend by one who had forsaken all. Barnswell, also called Pinion for the feathers which adorned his shield, served Jaris well, and sought in doing so to learn from his skilled superior.

The following spring the campaign recommenced, and raged through the year, until, as the gods of winter made their presence known once more, a treaty of surrender was inked and pressed with the seals of the Duke and the Prince of Myr, giving writ to the already-apparent truth of the Principality’s conquest. This politicking was only of interest to Jaris in that it opened a path unhindered by town-guard and unruly farmsman into the thick of the Hob-infested hills.

But with Myr vanquished and the Duke’s lands increased, there was far too little interest, it seemed, among the landed Lords of pressing deeper into the clay-earthed hills. Armies were recalled, supply trains returned to their merchant ways, and all thought of righteous vengeance faded. This vexed Jaris and his widowed companions greatly, as such a campaign was the only that they craved. Through the bitter winter they sat, and waited, and discussed what they might do if the command to disband their war-party were to come.

Their wish was not unheeded by the gods, for that winter saw little snow fall, and spring came early. With the first thaw came not the expected order to return to the Realm, but a signet-bearer sent from the Duke himself with orders to gather a band of the most stalwart warriors, and to press deep into the hills to see honor and just vengeance done against the Hob there who had thieved the skills of Man and turned them against their benefactors.

So again did Jaris saddle his charger and take up his sword. And in those hills did Jaris finally begin to apply the salve of tainted Hob blood to his wounds so deep. Their long-awaited encounter with a scouting-party was fierce and without quarter asked nor shown by noble warrior or dog-toothed Hob alike. Unlike the peasant-Hob that fell to his blade thus far in the campaign, these were warrior-bred—wolf-clever in their movements and lynx-vicious in their actions. Even so, they were no match for the fine-forged steel and valorous skill of Jaris and the campaigners among whom he fought.