THE BOOK OF THE MARTYRS

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[A worn, leatherbound tome can be found within the Maqam of the Martyrs: a compendium, dedicated to the Gods and the Dead alike, where the public might look upon the deeds of the Worthy Dead and lament their memory in perpetuity.]

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Sergeant Dorvant Kinney, age unknown, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787. Sergeant Dorvant Kinney was a proud member of the Sultan's Fourth Legion of Baz'eel. As many of us who find our home in Ephia's Well, Dorvant was a refugee from the auld rings of the Old City preceding the death of the King. He claimed heritage within the Peerage Ward of the 99th Ring and is said to have served to some degree beneath the defunct noble house of Velstra. Dorvant was known for his love of the Sultan, but moreover, Velstran Velvet and the pursuit of restoring honor and auld traditions. Dorvant Kinney was distinguished for his service within the Fourth Legion, swiftly rising to occupy the position of Sergeant for his unwavering dedication to the rule of law and the safekeeping of the people of Ephia's Well. On Illul 30th, IY 7787, Sergeant Kinney marched under the banner of Baz'eel and Ephia's Well to the Red Hill. Commanding forces of the Fourth Legion alongside Sergeant Joachim Sathuul, Dorvant Kinney fought valiantly in the trenches safeguarding the flank of the hill. While others fell around him, Dorvant held his ground both in pride, but also in humble deference to the Gods and fate, for he knew if it was his time, he would be delivered unto the embrace of the Martyrs. Sergeant Dorvant Kinney was slain combatting the vile and debased legions of the Wyrm and its' servant Constantine Diakos. He rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, both for the sacrifice he made in death, but also for the good he wrought in life as a servant of the people. Hail the Dead, in memory eternal, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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Snorri, shield of the dwarves, age unknown, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787. Snorri was an awoken dwarf who came to be one of the most prolific champions of the Dwarven Cause within Ephia's Well. Arriving to the Well as a refugee, he became accepted by the Kulkund Dwarves of the Tablet and took on their plight as his own. Snorri was initially a member of the Archaeology Company known as the Competition, plying a trade as a professional bodyguard, a role he later realized also in the employ of Naelin's Torchbearers. Snorri led an ill-fated expedition to High Kulkund on behalf of the Tablet Dwarves of which he was one of few survivors. After this, Snorri dedicated himself to deterring the folly of hopeful dwarves seeking to reclaim that distant mountain home. It is said that Snorri carried out a manner of penance and espoused a humble existence as a result, possibly tied to the fact that he outlived his wife and child whom, presumably, did not awaken in the same manner as he. Famed as a champion of the board, and as a champion of his people, Snorri was a dauntless figure who did not balk at the notion of challenge and this was a quality he held onto until his very last breath. Snorri marched with the Torchbearers to the Red Hill, lending himself as a veritable bulwark in the defense of the Astronomer ritual. During the dying minutes of the battle, he stood toe to toe with a great and fearsome abomination spawned from the depravity of the Sibilant Empire, defiant to his last. He rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, both for the sacrifice he made in death, but also for his unrelenting demeanor in life that proved an inspiration to many. Hail the Dead, in memory eternal, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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Mote von Nachtschatten, age unknown, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787. Mote was a private woman by all accounts and not much is known about her life before her coming to Ephia's Well. A member of the Torchbearers, Mote was considered a shadow of the leaders of this company and a skilled archer. They were a regular associate of the Apothar Estellise Azimi who referred to them as their 'familiar'. Mote's name was associated with a prominent movement of anti-Gnomish sentiment within Ephia's Well whose followers dubbed themselves 'Moteists' in recognition of her own animosity for the Gnomish People; a fact she herself disavowed. Mote marched with the Torchbearers on Illul 30th, IY 7787, to the Red Hill. There, she participated in the scouting efforts of the Torchbearers and ultimately gave her life holding the forest alongside the Cinquefoil Rose. She rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, both for the sacrifice she made in death, but for all those she left an impact upon in life. Hail the Dead, in memory eternal, may she be remembered an honored martyr.

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O Martyr, we elevate thee, and accord thee with all the grace worthy to thy station. For thou art worthiest among the dead, thy life which thou hast dedicated in thy magnanimity to death. Livest thee not for thyself but for thy brothers past, grave-tender, and thou art well received in the house of the dead with revelry and song. For while thy friends and students thou leavest in thy departure mourn with sorrowful tears, those thou hast cared for in thy life welcome thee in thy grave. Thou art remembered, and for memory eternal everlasting, thy name shall never fade for so long as the Twindari endure.

Entry IV
HEKATOMB THE TWINDARI

Hekatomb, humble servant elucidated by the wisdom of the Martyrs, age unknown, perished Qdim 23rd. IY 7787. Little needs be said of Hekatomb. For he was the grave and the grave was he. He was an ascetic who dedicated himself body and soul to the somber purpose of the servants of the Martyrs, and for this alone he was worthy above all else. Hekatomb did not balk from presenting a grim reminder of truth, that death is the inevitable truth of life. He donned his funerary mask with purpose, and with scythe in hand sought to honor the Martyrs in deed and word. His deeds are numbered great and many. Among them did he take to the bloody sands of Kha'esh, claiming for the Twindari a worthy artefact. And innumerable are his works done in mourning and remembrance. On Qdim 23rd, IY 7787, Brother Hekatomb was among those brave souls who fearlessly delved into the gutters in defiance of the cursed beast unsealed by foolish and inept hands. And for this did he pay the ultimate price, giving his life to the hands of the Martyrs, that others might enjoy the garden a while longer. He rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, for unending service to the Martyrs, and doubtless shall his vigil continue in the grave for a Twindari made shall always be. Hail the Dead, memory undying, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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[Appended below is a copy of the poem, 'Of Hekatomb', by Acolyte Amelie of the Sibylline Vine]

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Original Text

Of Hekatomb
Acolyte Amelie of the Sisterhood of the Sibylline Vine
Speaker for Kula

Qdim 26, IY 7787

Unto the Martyrs' graven brows;
Commend the mortal wayward soul;
For they again shall never rouse;
And Kula's vigil long is whole.

O They into repose shall meet;
This weary one in service long;
Who never could admit defeat;
His faith and piety was strong.

In ancient days their first command;
Resplendent in a mournful dirge:
"Remember they who walked the land";
And O, we gathered, now converge!

And say, as one, thy work is done.

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Thou hast defiled thyself in memory and in death. We remember thee not by thy name but by thy deeds, wicked as they are. For thou hast turned thy back upon the Gods, and sown in wicked pact ruinous disharmony at the cost of thy soul. Thy depravity is manifold and thy wickedness remembered, but thy name is unworthy and shall not rest entombed in vellum and ink. May ye be thrice damned, let the Wroth flay the flesh from thy bones and render thee unto dust, and consign thy soul to suffering eternal.

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Slimey, age unknown, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787.  Slimey was a man of unknown origins, bearing or even purpose. No one knew even if his name truly was, as he claimed, Slimey. Appearing amidst the masses gathered beneath the shadow of the keep near the Red Hill, Slimey was purported to have not been of Ephia's Well, nor of the Refugees of the Tonsured, unknown to those who gathered for war as a stranger. Nevertheless, Slimey took on the noble purpose of a hero without question. Reeking of drink and altogether high upon life, it is said that Slimey claimed the battle to be a birthday celebration of his, or a 'shindig', in his own words and took to the field with fearless glee. On Illul 30th, IY 7787, Slimey took to the Cinquefoil flank of battle and fought to a drunken end amongst the rank-and-file of the Rose and their allies. It is said that he fell time and time again, entering the Martyrs' peace only to rise again in defiance of fate and continue on in the struggle against the Sibilant. Whether or not there is truth to these words, he ultimately gave his life holding the forest alongside the Cinquefoil Rose. He rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, for the sacrifice he made in death and the joy and whimsy he brought in life. Hail the Dead, in memory eternal, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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Beloved, beloved, beloved art thou, crusader and cupbearer. Of memory lost, but not forgotten. Thy passing we exalt, for in thy death, thy martyrdom made hath safeguarded the lives of many. And no worthier a thing is there but to sacrifice to the fruition of a cause. We mourn thee, that thy kind and gallant words no longer resound in Cinquefoil halls. Upon our lips a dirge, for thy noble heart, a many sorrows left in thy wake not for thy deeds but for thy passing. Thou art remembered, and for memory eternal everlasting, thy name shall never fade.

ENTRY VI
LYRIST LYNNETH LLYWARCH
Lyrist Lynneth Llywarch, age unknown, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787. Lynneth was a refugee like many of us, hailing from a farm somewhere amidst the old City of Rings. Yet her humble beginnings did not stay her from glory everlasting. A devotee well-favored by Warad, the Wanderer, Lynneth took upon the plights of those wandering the roads and even in her earliest days among the people of Ephia's Well proved herself a noble soul worthy of the title hero. She was among the first batch of students to be taken into the College of the Lost Hearth during IY 7787 and quickly grew into her role, winning the trust of the Lyrists and the Grandmaster both through the wealth of her deeds. Nearly claiming victory in the first election after the death of John Syter, Lynneth stood an exemplar of the ideals espoused by the League of White. She waged battle against Orentid fortresses, faced untold hordes of orcan and other beasts, aided the explorer and the traveller and faced down the wicked djinni without fear. Widely beloved, kind and gallant, Lynneth was a shining beacon of what it meant to be a Balladeer and earned her place as Lyrist for it. Embodying the Cupseeker, the Gallant Knight, the Crusader; Lynneth took on the cause of the Tonsured Refugees as her own and championed their defense, mustering the Well to their aid. On Illul 30th, IY 7787, Lyrist Lynneth Llywarch headed the march of the Cinquefoil Rose to the Red Hill. There, beneath its shadow, she fought valiantly and despite mounting losses rallied the Rose to the defense of the ritual. There, she perished holding back the abominable generals of the Sibilant Host in defense of Mae Stern and the other Astronomer ritualists. Lynneth gave her life so that their work was seen through, that not all sacrifices made that day needed be in vain. She rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, a servant of the people and hero of Ephia's Well. May she be beloved in the grave, as she was in life. Hail the Dead, memory undying, may she be remembered an honored martyr.

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ODE TO THE KRAK
PENNED BY LYRIST LYNNETH, AS PROVIDED BY BALLADEER ALEJANDRO

Amidst the dunes and scorching heat,
A solitary Rose blooms at my feet,
In a time where life is harsh,
The road is tough, travelers parched,
there is a place a where lost souls meet,
to share with friends an ice cold drink,
the Krak des Roses, what treat,
A fortress strong, a sight to seek,
Alone in the desert's endless sea,
There blooms proud, a sanctuary.
So come and rest, weary traveler,
Find refuge here, your soul to gather,
In the Krak des Roses, haven true,
Amidst the sands, a dream renewed.

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Known are ye men with fondness for the Gods, but loved art thou who toils in their name. Often do fools close their ears to the words of the righteous, and thou wert certainly among the righteous. For thine oath bore the selfsame love the mother holds for her children. Thou hadst taken up thy torch against those despoilers of sacred knowledge. And dare thee to thy very end oppose them wicked in word and by deed. Thou art remembered, and for memory eternal everlasting, thy name shall never fade.

ENTRY VII
SALVATORE DI RAVIOCI

Salvatore di Ravioci, aged thirty-four, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787. Salvatore arrived to Ephia's Well one amongst many refugees cast from the distant port of Il Modo. Bound by sacred oath, Salvatore quickly rose to prominence for his firebrand spirit and marked hatred for all texts that were not borne of liturgical practice. A figure of controversy, many ridiculed and decried Salvatore for his destruction of knowledge, but he remained undeterred and ingratiated himself to the late Legate Zaniah, who afforded him the establishment of the Anointed Hospitalers of Her Sepulcher, a group of B'aarat faithful dedicated to the destruction of brookers, necromancers and other wretched actors within the Well. Salvatore was responsible for justice being mete against multiple brookers, namely Fritz von Volkrin, Marl Marlson and inadvertently, Theodine Bone. Salvatore faced troubles in his days and brought low a great number of wicked djinni who came to haunt him for his exemplary righteousness, proving himself worthy of the Mother's favor. On Illul 30th, IY 7787, Salvatore marched with his fellow hospitalers to the Red Hill where he laid down his life holding the trenches alongside the janissaries of the Fourth Legion. The last of his companions left standing, Salvatore fought to the bitter end laying low several Fourthscale Champions of the depraved Sibilant Legions before he was finally run through and met with the kind embrace of the Martyrs. He rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, a pious servant given to a somber duty that, while not all understood the gravity of his purpose, saw the world a better place for his good works. Hail the dead, memory undying, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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GIANLUCA OF SHARP WIT
NOBLE BALESTRIERE
WORTHY DEAD
BY LASH OF THY TONGUE, ENEMIES CONQUERED
FOR A CLEVER WORD IS WORTH A THOUSAND MORE
WE YEARN TO SEE THY SWEET SMILING FACE
AND ONE LAST QUIP BEFORE THOU ART GONE

Thy deeds were many, thy fame true. For thou wert loved by many, and hated by many more. We remember thee not for thy wickedness, for the mercenary's trade is a complicated thing, but for what good thou hast done and for thy noble pride which elevated thee to stand above others in greatness and acclaim. Honored is he who enters into the grave without fear, and thou hast entered it fearless. Thou art remembered, and for memory eternal everlasting, thy name shall never fade.

ENTRY VIII
BALESTRIERE GIANLUCA GIANCARLO GIUSEPPE BUONAVENTURA
Gianluca Giancarlo Giuseppe Buonaventura, age unknown, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787. Gianluca, presumed a native of distant Il Modo, arrived to Ephia's Well in the early months of IY 7787. Little is known of his life before, but he carved a name for himself upon his entry into La Banda Rossa. He swiftly earned recognition and fame amongst the people of the Well as a skilled duelist and mercenary, with a reputation for scathing quips and a clever wit that incensed both friends and foes alike. While Gianluca suffered an early defeat in a duel against another member of the Banda, Lucas Moody, it did not take long for him to remedy such by merit of his talents, taking to the sands and the field both with fervor. Facing ravenous orcs upon the Osmani Canal, taking to the Sea of Pearls to strike down horrors from beyond the reckoning of mortal men, and earning the applause and adoration of countless fans in the arena pits of Ephia's Well, Gianluca was larger than life and manifested a captivating presence which lives in memory to this day. On Illul 30th, IY 7787, Gianluca was amongst the brave souls of the Banda Rossa who marched beneath Cinquefoil Banner to rescue the Tonsured Refugees at the Red Hill. There, Gianluca was amidst the fore of the Cinquefoil Vanguard which held the forests on the flank of the hill. He directed the flow of battle and stood to his very last, casting countless dozens of Sibilant beasts screaming into the abyss before their spears became too numerous and he was chosen to embrace the Martyrs in death. He rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, a gallant duelist who knew his worthy and did not shy from faith in himself, he was true to his friends and laid down his life to guard them safe. Hail the dead, memory undying, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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KRAGG OF THE UNMOVABLE MOUNTAIN

FEARSOME BALESTRIERE
WORTHY DEAD
WAST THEE OF THE STONE
FOR THINE UNSHAKABLE FURY ASTOUNDS
UNFLINCHING AS THE MOUNTAIN
EVEN IN DEATH'S EMBRACE

Fearsome is the man who is as unflinching as the mountain, whose foundations wind to the very roots of the earth, and will not be sundered. By bitter obstinance hath thy life been defined, and we thank thee for it. For thou strived boldly in thy days, and remained ever a bulwark to those who named thee as friend. Twice-dead is the Martyr whose stubborness was of the reckoning of the Gods, and we greet thee now with tears. Thou art remembered, and for memory eternal everlasting, thy name shall never fade.

ENTRY IX
BALESTRIERE KRAGG STONEFURY
Kragg Stonefury, aged one hundred and sixty, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787. Kragg claimed lineage to the scattered peoples of High Kulkund, coming to this Well a refugee where he distinguished his name as a gruff, no-nonsense mercenary who saw through his work with brutal efficacy. Known for his stubborn and resolute nature, Kragg was like a mountain, never wont to bend. A man of few friends, he found himself at home within the Banda Rossa where he rose to the rank of Balestriere, commanding fear and respect among the factions of the Accord and the tavern-goers of the Krak des Roses. It is rumored that Kragg was so stubborn he defied death itself, with gossip claiming he was slain by his own comrades only to reemerge weeks later with a newfound grim fervor. Kragg fought in several noteworthy engagements, leading the charge at the Osmani Canal with unbridled rage, taking to a fell mountain to vanquish a djinn that stalked an acolyte of the Priory and ultimately carving his name into memory beneath the Red Hill. Kragg's achievements did not end upon the battlefield, with him bringing to justice the murderer Shalil, and seeking glory upon the fields of the Bloodsands only to come second to his fellow Balestriere, Gianluca Buonaventura, though not without humbling the proud sergeant of the Fourth Legion. On Illul 30th, IY 7787, Kragg marched alongside his fellow Rossans and Cinquefoil company to do battle at the Red Hill. There, he carved through countless untold Sibilant, hewing limbs asunder with the baleful strike of his axe. Stubborn to the very end, Kragg survived the initial battle of the forest only to take to the Hill itself where he faced down Sibilant Generals defiantly. There, it is said that Kragg was struck dead, not by the blow of an enemy, but that he became so utterly enraged by the death of his comrades that his heart burst and he dropped dead amidst the field. He rests now among the Worthy Dead and is honored thus, a bulwark of obstinance glorified in the toil of his labor, a diligence in battle he pursued ceaselessly until death finally claimed him. Hail the dead, memory undying, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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ELLE OF OBSCURE TONGUE

CURIOUS STUDENT
WORTHY DEAD
THOU HATH TOUCHED MANY BY THY WORKS
FOR THY WRITTEN WORD WAS OF GREAT CLARITY
AND YET THY TONGUE PROVEN MOST VEXING
OUR CUPS WE RAISE TO THEE, A TOAST, OYO

Only the Gods knew truly the wealth of thy wisdom, for only they could interpret the warbling of thy words. Danced thee betwixt the petals of our Cinquefoil Rose, and found thee in the end a home true. Amongst the halls of the College was thy poet's heart nurtured. Thy poetry wast loved, even in the misunderstandings of thy tongue, those rare words of lucidity ring all the more true. Thou art remembered, and for memory eternal everlasting, thy name shall never fade.

ENTRY X
STUDENT ELLE
Elle, age unknown, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787. Little can be recalled of Elle's life before she found her home in Ephia's Well, presumed a refugee who wandered, like many, through the Great Ash Desert to the sanctuary that is our home. Elle initially found herself amoung the rough-and-tumble cadre of mercenaries, the Banda Rossa, serving the Cinquefoil Rose as a Recluta under the purview of the Balestrieres Bruno, Gianluca and Kragg. Elle lacked however the heart of a mercenary and her gentle nature eventually led her to quit their ranks and take up a student's quill within the College of the Lost Hearth. Elle was tutored by Balladeer Alejandro and was raised up in the artistry of poetry and song. Despite her acumen in the lyrical arts, Elle was of a strange temperament and is remembered to have often been incoherent and confusing in her speech often to the annoyance and grief of those around her. In her love for her mentors, and her fellow students, Elle marched on Illul 30th, IY 7787, beneath the banner of the Cinquefoil Host despite being ill-suited to war herself. Taking to the field with her brethren-in-arms, she gave her life amongst the withered woods that marked the Red Hill's flank, the first among many victims claimed by the wicked hand of the Sibilant General known as the Gaoler. She rests now among the worthy dead and is honored thus, for her strange but kind ways and the legacy she leaves behind in her works that might inspire in the fullness of heart those poets who follow in her step. Hail the dead, memory undying, may she be remembered an honored martyr.

THE GARDEN IN THE SKY

The night shining bright, light on the water rippling.
The water is dancing, the light of the stars reflecting.
A thought, a feeling; there for but a moment fleeting.
Still and quiet, mist and drops falling, faith and hope refilling.

Elle, Illul 21st, IY 7787

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ECHEMMON OF TWIN AXES
PROUD WARRIOR
WORTHY DEAD
THY SHATTERED AXE JOINS NOW THE EARTH
RESIDETH THOU AMONGST WORTHY KIN
AND FOR THY DEATH A WARRIOR TRUE
GLORY EVERLASTING BECOMES THEE

Warrior is he who makes a home of the battlefield. Glory art thou and by thy name is glory done. For in thy wake a thousand axes shattered, and a thousand more to join thee in death. With sorrowful tears art thou mourned yet we lay thee into the earth with axe in hand, that thou shalt be remembered a protector, and in death a protector still. May thy fury abandon thee not even in the grave. Thou art remembered, and for memory everlasting, thy name shall never fade.

ENTRY XI
ECHEMMON, CHAMPION OF AGASLAKKU
Echemmon, age unknown, perished Illul 30th. IY 7787.  Echemmon came to the Well a refugee, like many, but he was possessed of a great spirit; upon his lips the name Agaslakku. A proud and noble warrior, Echemmon distinguished himself as a skilled fighter taking to war with twin axes by which he earns his moniker.  Echemmon fought in many battles against many foes, but the most noteworthy of which was his foray into the political arena championing the cause of the League of White. During his time, Echemmon stirred much controversy for his defense of faithful of the Wyrm of Accurs'd name, though it did little to diminish his stature as a warrior and he marched proudly despite this. While he failed to earn the office of Legate, Echemmon held to the challenge until his defeat. He was vocal in his support for the Orcan tribes of the Thousand Clans and tried to advocate for alliance with them in the weeks preceding the fateful events that took place beneath the Red Hill. On Illul 30th, IY 7787, Echemmon marched with the peoples of Ephia's Well to the Red Hill to do battle against the Sibilant Legions of Constantine Diakos. Echemmon fought in the trenches alongside the Fourth Legion and other volunteers. There, he swept through the scaled hordes like a whirlwind damning hundreds of  wicked beasts to the embrace of their fell master. He fell there, refusing to withdraw even as the janissaries broke and faced down one of the mighty generals of the Sibilant before succumbing to his end. He rests now among the worthy dead and is honored thus, for his glory as a warrior undaunting in the face of tribulation, an exemplar of Agaslakku's fury. Hail the dead, memory undying, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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ECHEMMON'S THIGHS
Dedicated to the Fallen
Balladeer Narwen Alendiel

In the realm of warriors... strong and sly...
There's a hero whose might... none can deny...
With every step his muscles... rippple and rise...
Echemmon, the one with mighty thighs.

His stride covers distance... swift as the wind...
and his foes tremble ... as his thighs descend...
With each thunderous leap... he takes flight...
A spectacle of power... a muscular delight.

Oh, Echemmon's thighs... a sight to behold...
Their power, their prowess, their tale untold...
Symbols of might, of valor and of grace...
In the annals of legend they shall take their place.

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JOACHIM OF RELENTLESS DUTY
DUTIFUL SERGEANT
WORTHY DEAD
GIVEN UNTO A TASK NOT OF THY HEART
DAUNTLESS STILL DESPITE IT
A SOLDIER ART THOU
THAT THY DUTY CALLS THE UNTO THE GRAVE

To forgo one's life for duty is the noblest of charges, and thou didst endear thyself to that worthy task. Thy resolve legendary, thy deeds greater yet. By thy hand didst thou see the people guarded safe, and whilst fate does not always favor, strived thee to the best of thine ability. In the face of the shadow of Death with dirk to thy neck, thy lips were smiling, and thou sayest thus; "A band of bandits thinking twice of themselves. Get it over with." Fearless is the Martyr who goes in Death. Thou art remembered, and for memory everlasting, thy name shall never fade.

ENTRY XII
SERGEANT JOACHIM SATHUUL
Joachim Sathuul, age unknown, perished Tesrin Hray 6th. IY 7787. Joachim was presumed to be a refugee from the Outrings, considering the disdain he held for those of the 'peerage retainer' sort, by his own admission. Joachim came to the Well early in 7787 and found his lot with the Fourth Legion of the Janissaries. There, he distinguished himself as a skilled soldier with a no-nonsense attitude, possessed of a demeanor that was not well-suited to the mundane posting of the Fourth in being glorified lawmen in their day-to-day duties. Despite this, he rose to the rank of sergeant and served under Rennik Colmes, and after Colmes' illness assuming most of the duties of his superior despite a lack of rank. Joachim Sathuul took to the field of war on behalf of the Sultan on multiple occasions and was also an avid tourney fighter participating in bouts such as the Bloodsands where he was humbled by the late Balestriere Kragg. Sergeant Sathuul led the Fourth to the Red Hill and commanded the defense of the trenches alongside Sergeant Kinney. After the other fell, Sathuul led the remnants in defending the hill and distinguished himself in his furious action, dealing the final blow against the wicked Sibilant General known as the Gaoler. In his waning days, Joachim was caught up in controversy with the revelation of the Throater and strove to try and bring the former janissary to justice. It was in this pursuit, on Tesrin Hray 6th, IY 7787, that Joachim faced down the Throater within the Gutters and met his demise. In his final moments, he was offered to join his former comrade, and refused him, proclaiming duty to the end. He rests now among the worthy dead and is honored thus, for his tireless work in defense of the Well and its people, and his dutybound dedication to his superiors and to the Wroth. Hail the dead, memory undying, may he be remembered an honored martyr.

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