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The Crown of Madness Prologue Standing silent, the large crowd stared toward the castle door. Each held a red thorny rose, gripping it tightly and drawing blood. They stood there for nearly an hour—no one said a word and no one faltered. At last, the giant entryway opened. A procession of darkly dressed soldiers filed out in a close, uniform line, followed by the king, dressed in all white except for the dark iron crown on his head. Their leader looked tired but proud, defeated yet strong. Each step the king took was methodical. His face unchanging, he stared forward toward the platform in the center of the crowd. The tired man stopped at the edge of the path created through the audience. All but two of the knights continued on to the platform. They knelt down toward the king upon arrival at their destination. A deep, mournful horn sounded from one of the castle towers. It bellowed seven times. Roses were passed and thrown into the opening made for the king. The ground became completely obscured by the bloody flowers and the king began walking. Again, he walked slowly and deliberately, showing only strength though in great anguish. Finally, he arrived at the platform and climbed the short flight of stairs. One knight knelt at the top of the stairs, facing away from the king, and those around the platform stood to turn toward him. One by one, the warriors knelt, shortly followed by the crowd around them. All were on their knees except the king and his appointed executioner. The king knelt and the standing knight gently removed the crown from his head, placing it on a small table next to the white marble executioner’s block. The king lowered his head onto the cold stone as the knight picked up the dark iron broadsword from the nearby rack. The knight tested the sharpness of the blade on his own hand which immediately bled. He 1 raised the sword high and brought it down swiftly onto his leader’s neck. The cut was clean and they head fell hard into the basket below. The horn sounded seven times. 2 Chapter 1- Kamon The Iron Chamber Soldiers clamored about the castle, Aarden Hall, moving in to their positions for the next phase of the Passing of the Crown. The council members walked just as quickly but with a rehearsed grace in each of their steps. They moved with importance in place of any sign of expedience. “The blood papers are already coming in. Is it always so soon?” a young scribe named Kamon asked as he struggled to keep up with a counselor and keep hold of a bundle of parchment. The older man, Gerreon, smiled wryly. “Yes, and sometimes sooner. I remember my first Passing of the Crown. A few blood papers came in the day before the ceremony was to begin.” “What did you do?” “Report their names to the head of the guard and they were imprisoned for disrespecting the crown.” Kamon looked baffled by the statements of his master and made a clear effort to hold a better posture and a tighter grip on the documents in his hands. Swiftly walking down a brightly lit stone corridor they came to a pair of double iron doors. Turning to face his scribe, the counselor came to a sudden halt. “You are about to witness history, m’boy. This chamber is only used for two purposes, discussion of the Passing of the Crown and as a war room if the castle were to ever fall under siege.” 3 Nodding, the young man could not seem to speak. He stared at his master, hanging on his every word. His hands trembled. The old man gave the scribe’s arm a reassuring pat. “Relax. All you have to do is keep your back to the wall directly behind my chair and hand me documents when I call for them.” “Yes, sir.” “Good lad,” said the counselor, turning toward the iron clad entrance. As the man slowly pushed the heavy doors forward, the hinges groaned, making it clear they had not opened in a very long time. A knight ran up to the two men as the doors swung ajar. “Status report?” the elder asked. “Sir, the signal fires have all been lit. We expect the blood papers from nearby farm and villages to be sent within the next few hours.” The soldier reported in a dutiful stance, but could not help an occasional glance into the fabled Iron Chamber. Gerreon nodded. “Good. You are dismissed, soldier.” Saluting, the guard took one more long glance into the Iron Chamber before turning to resume the rest of his duties. The old counselor sighed and ushered his scribe into the room. They were the first to arrive, so they traveled to the end of the long, rectangular, dark wood table that sat in the middle. The room looked just like any other in the castle, stone walls and floors, except that everything was reinforced with iron in some way. Each stone in the walls and floor bound to the surrounding stones by iron. The 4 ceiling had iron support beams in every corner. And even the table had iron supports underneath it. “Remember, not a word spoken in here leaves this room.” “Yes, sir.” “Oh, and I would advise finding a spot on the wall or floor to stare at. Some of my fellow counselors are… a bit high strung. Birch in particular does not like when his ‘lessers’ look at him directly, the snobby bastard.” Both horrified and amused, Kamon picked out his spot on the wall as the rest of the counselors and their scribes filed in. Ten counselors attended in total, and they all entered in quick succession shortly after the first few arrived. The first discussion of the Passing of the Crown was about to begin. 5 Chapter 2- Alwin The Banshee and the Bog Blood red illuminated the sky as the sun sank slowly beneath the hills. Many of the shops were packing up as Alwin headed toward Aelwyd Tavern. His friend, Lucius, had asked to meet there when he got done with guard duty. Being very cryptic, Lucius promised an adventure and a little extra coin. The handsome guard was a rather capable man, but his friend’s “jobs” often pushed him to his limits. Alwin stood tall and proper, he had his dark blonde hair in a standard short guard’s cut. As he reached for the door it swung open. He dodged the door on instinct, but stumbled back. An older, hefty man barged out of the open doorway, already drunk. The air of the tavern thickly lingered, but the lighting was warm and inviting. Alwin smiled and began to relax. He found Lucius sitting at a table in the far-right corner of the bar quietly talking with a man in a tattered, hooded cloak. Lucius spotted him and smiled. Just as they greeted each other the strange man seemed to disappear. Alwin glanced around but could not find him. “Who were you speaking with?” he asked. “My proprietor for my next business venture,” his friend said with a grin. Lucius was not remarkably big or handsome. Nor did he have much to his name. However, he carried himself in such a way that reassured those around him that he had a plan. Short dark hair wistfully tangled down to his ears, his eyes were piercing blue, but perhaps his smile attracted people to him most. “Oh? A respectable type of job I presume?” “Well… Maybe not entirely respectable, but it does sound exciting.” 6 “I assumed as much when we spoke earlier.” “Sit down with me, let’s have a drink,” Lucius said, signaling the barmaid, Prue, whom Alwin had known most his life. They exchanged pleasantries with their friend and then they got down to business. Alwin couldn’t help but be uneasy regardless of his friend’s excitement. “So, there I was, asking around for available work in the usual places when a hunter friend of mine tells me some stranger has an odd request that no one will take. Says he thinks I’m foolish enough to be the one to take it.” “Of course, and I’m foolish enough to get dragged along,” Alwin retorted leaning back as the waitress placed their pints in front of them. “What is the stranger seeking?” “Banshee essence,” Lucius said, taking a long drink from his pint. “Tonight.” “Banshee essences… are you insane? Where would we even get it?” “Altum Marsh, just a few hours journey from here that has rumors of a banshee.” “I’ve heard of that bog. They say it is cursed. What amount of coin would possess you to venture into a cursed swamp?” Alwin was holding his pint with both hands but not drinking. “The coin is unimportant,” Lucius said dismissively. “Since when was coin trivial in your mind?” “My payment will be the honor of being the first to slay a banshee in many years.” 7 Alwin sighed, staring deep into the dark liquid filling his pint. “Fine, when do we leave?” Lucius downed the rest of his pint and jumped up. “Give me half an hour to get all the needed supplies. I’ll meet you here.” Alwin watched as his eager friend dashed out the door of the tavern. He hadn’t expected a night of rest when a hunting job was lined up, but he had not expected an all- night trek into a cursed swamp to kill a creature no one had seen in ages.

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