Family History

King Corwin

Lived in Era 13, got 1 heir(s) (Random) and was the leader of The Medieval Dogs Of War
"You want me to tell you the story of the family, again?
Well..
Of course, it all began in the eleventh era, when Kroc, a commoner, but one with great ideas, decided to join the King's Army, due to the invading armies of Trolls, who already were burning the cities, and people fleeing, came to Baerlon, one of the few walled cities of the land, and told the atrocities that Trolls, ugly beasts, grown from animal blood and Human crudelity, did to the Dwarfmen. Kroc, a brave farmer, who liked to hunt, and almost always won the archery competitions in the city, decided to take the call to battle and defend Baerlon, and take the last stand before the Troll invaders.
The King, Joahn the Tall, was an incredibly high Dwarf, but none the less was he still a Dwarf, compared to Humans or even Trolls. Joahn could see that the dwarves alone could not take on the invaders, and decided to ask the powerful Sorcerers that lived high in the mountains, in a well protected fortress called, by some, Fort Weyr, where strange animals flew above the skyes, at speed faster than of a senth. Nobody knew why the Sorcerers came into villages and took youths with certain abilities, but if the King let them, it meant there was a good reason behind it, and nobody criticized him, for he had knowledge infinite to a commoner's mind, since he had long lived with the Elves, a graceful race, and incredibly smart. People thought that Joahn was smart because of his stature, but the wiser dwarves knew that that had nothing to do with it.
Anyway, back to Kroc.
Kroc was brave in heart and clean in soul, or so they said.. I've never had the honour to meet him...
Well, after some time in the King's Army, as a foot soldier, he showed good skills and the Officer Flash decided to increase his rank to SharpShooters, and he joined the new battalion, Mooneye.
The training was hard, and many dwarves left to simpler ranks. But the 76 who did not go, were the best Baerlon had to offer, and that meant very good.
The battalion was sent into the Shining Woods, to slow down the coming army of Trolls. The Officer of the battalion was Tui, who was said could shoot straight into the eye of a flying perith, from 500 paces. And indeed he was a good archer, the best of the continent... Except maybe for the Elven Elite Archermages, but thats another story.
Where was I? Oh yes, the forsest... The Shining Woods, now called Forest of Arden, in honour of the dwarf that saved the battalion... How? Well, let me tell you. The SharpShooter Battalion had camped on a low hill, but higher then the others, so the dwarves could see far away, and in case Trolls were seen, a fire would be given to the large treshold, which would warn the King, blight the Trolls, since they see badly in darkness, and also make easier to see them.
But that day, the soldiers decided to go out into the woods, since they were tiered of shooting at flying disks. Almost half of them went, leaving the camp almost unprotected. The day was fresh and the air warm, with the sun just above the hill, sinking in the sea that was behind it. It was one of the prettiest sights anyone ever saw, and the most hated one as well. The troops decided to stay out all night and sleep on the morbid grass.
Meanwhile, in the camp, the cooks were cooking bicefalus legs, which was a rarity, but the air smelled sour, and the dwarves' appetite died. The watchman, Karius, was sitting on the high guardtower reading a book, as he always did, with a fire to see better. The troops almost thought that the Trolls decided to retreat, and weren't as weary as they first were.. Even old Terry, always shooting at every single movement that might have been a Troll, but usually was a poor rabbit, didn't hear, or rather, did not believe, the soft sound of stout Troll shoes, walking on the dirt.
That night the nightmares walked into the field of battle. The trolls had not attacked during that time because it was considered a sacred month, when they shold not kill anyone, but instead should take care of theirselves. So they did, they took care of themselves, and made an even bigger force, and with new monsters that nobody had ever seen before, came running, slashing with their black swords, that darkened even more the already too dark night. They came in, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands! No, more, they must have been at least over a million. But before they could slash a single throat, the alarm sounded. Dinner was served, but it was too early for it, so the dwarves got alarmed, thinking it to be actually the waited siege, and took positions. Since nobody came, the cook decided to go out and call the dwarves himself, when he saw the dark shapes of Troll Warlords, and at that, his scream filled the ears of the trolls, who shouted back, and charged on the outpost. The Sharpshooters loaded their bows, and at the shout of the General the fighting began.
You can very easily guess from the stories of what happened..."

Corwin, Son of Oberon, Son of Kroc
Was born in Amber, the greatest city of all, at the end of the 12th era, when the forces of Dark were burning and destroying the farms around the empire. They said it was a cold summer night when the first cry of the Prince was heard. He was the ninth son of Noemi, Amber's Queen, married to King Oberon, a great ruler. The King had blessed the new Heir to the thron of Amber, that was left empty after the death of Benedict and the disappearance of Random.
Years since, Corwin was trained in all known arts of the Kingdom: Combat, Leadership, Physics, Psychology, Navigation, Mining, Farming, Magic, Smithing, and many others. But most of all, he was thaught how to control himself, which served him quiete a many times.
Karthen, the Swordsman of Amber, thaught Corwin the Art of the Sword, using concentration of the void. He quickly became a good swordsman, and at an early age decided to stop practicing the sword, and began the Art of Hammers, considered a useless show of muscles by the King, who in that time was leading the campaigns to liberate the land from the Hordes of Dark.
The messenger came on a stormy night, painting, said his horse died, so he ran, said the news was too important to be sent by a pigeon, and it was indeed. The High King, Oberon, Son of Kroc, had died in the battle, with his whole regiment, against the last army of the Hordes. The messenger also said that the Hordes were running behind him, so they would come to Amber soon. Maybe a week, he said. Maybe a week... Maybe less...
The next day Corwin proclamed the death of Oberon, and grieved during the Funeral. The whole of Amber grieved, but the dwarves did not just cry, the blacksmiths worked hard, the builders strengthened the walls, the Swordsmaster and the strategists were planning hard, to protect the people, the barracks were all clashes of steel and iron.
Meanwhile the Hordes were running, blood thirsty monsters, burning homes, slaying the paesants that didn't make in time to get to Amber, now the last (known) fortress of the Empire.
Time was running short, and the preparations were not enough to survive the siege. So Corwin decided to save his people in the mountains, but the dwarves decided to stay and fight for Amber, and avenge the death of Oberon.
So the siege began...

King Random

Lived in Era 14, got 1 heir(s) (Merlin) and was the leader of The Medieval Dogs Of War
Darkness.
Cold. Very cold.
Can't hear. Can't feel.
Its the absence of matter.
It lasted maybe ten seconds, maybe a year.
Maybe it didn't last at all, maybe it was a fruit of my imagination.
Maybe. But maybe not. But it almost drove me insane. Just almost.
I can still remember the fear, the cold, the endless pain, that destroyed Mantrax, and killed my father, Corwin of Amber.
Armageddon they called it. Torture it was for some, for others, death.
But I survived, and I shall avenge my father, my people, my friends.
The new Era has begun!
**
Blood calls blood
And it shall run like rivers
Red and sweet
Till all are dead
And victory is our
Blood calls blood
The traitors must pay
The weak must die
The old must leave
And we must fight!
**
******************************

This Era we are not yet united, but victory shall be ours, once again, as it always was, and always will be.
Yesterday thousands died. Today millions will!
What was yesterday was forgotten, but not by us.
This Era there will be no need for Armageddon. Our armies will do the job instead!

--Karunic Cycle
Wardogs
Amber
Year 34 of Yyera's Era
Translated by the Mountain Monks in Jeker's era.

The Journal of Random's life was lost in the Fire of Amber.
But the story tells that after a meeting with the Orcs, Random fell ill, probably because of poisoned wine, and died two days after in bed. The people decided to escape to their old land, hoping for it to be habitable again. King Random named a heir before his death, just before he laid a curse upon his enemies.
A curse of a King will not be gone until it is fullfilled. And we dare not tell it to anyone.

But one thing is sure, Revenge will come!