Orast Darrin, The Sterling Crown

There are many legendary names in the history of Briounne. But one stands out for many, Orits Darrin, the Sterling Crown. His story is told in word and in song, especially near the fields outside of Feldfire where he and his troops made a final stand against the dark forces led by Arthanix.

More than a 1,000 years ago the forces of man led by the Sterling Sovereign, Orast Darrin, raged against the forces of the demon Lord Arthannix and the Shale Horde. Darrin's final stand was on the fields outside of Feldfire. The battle raged for more than 20 days with the human forces dwindling day by day. As the last of Darrin's forces stood shoulder to shoulder, on what would come to be know as Breakhold Brae, the end seemed to have arrived and the forces of evil stood poised to put an end to the age of man. In that moment a breeze began to shift the grasses around the warrior's ankles and battle pennants that lay still began to flutter and fly. The wind grew stronger and bursting forth in the air above the field, breathing frostfire on the hordes, was a great platinum dragon. Bahamut, the spirit breath, had heard the call of his people and came to lead them to victory. In the last moments of the battle Arthannix struck Darrin with the cursed blade - The Ebony Agony. Darrin fell. Bahamut opened his jaws and his breath came as a icy gale freezing Arthannix in the moment of his victory. Bahamut took Arthannix in his claws and flew to a height beyond human eyesight and sent him plummeting to the ground, where his body shattered into thousands of pieces. With the aid of Bahamut, the Shale Horde fell and were swept from the field. Leaving behind the bodies of the fallen and 30 survivors. The 30 became the first paladins of the the Martyred Call to whom Bahamut gave these commandments:

Stand as a paragon of honor and justice. Smite evil wherever it is found, yet show compassion to those who have strayed from the path of righteousness. Defend the weak, bring freedom to the persecuted, and protect the ideals of justice and order.

Bahamut spoke prophecy that one day Darrin would return with the Sterling crown upon his brow and would lead a new order of warriors to a paradise. Bahamut took up Darrin's body and carried him into the afterlife. As Bahamut took flight the crown on Darrin's head fell unnoticed to the ground. In the aftermath of the battle the crown was lost. Darrin can never return to the material plane without the sterling crown. Generations have sought the lost artifact to no avail. And now new rumors fly as the Principality sits on the edge of war with the denizens of the dark realms once again.

The Death of the Sterling Crown - an old oral story

"There was nothing more to be said. He was gone. His eyes starred lifeless into the void and the soul that had resided within only a few short moments ago had slipped into eternity. You cradled his head in your lap and tears streamed from your eyes; that still perceived the shadows and dark corners of the world. This was Orast Darrin. The one who lived to protect those under his care, to fight for their salvation and for their very lives. He was a power to be reckoned with and a lightning arm of justice. This was the Sterling Crown. Death held no sway in his realm, so how could it be that in this moment those arms lay lax, and the breath had been stilled?

The battle had raged for more days than you could now count. Arthannix led the Shale Horde in wave after wave of attack on the forces commanded by Darrin. With each attack you watched friends and comrades in arms fall beneath the onslaught. From the thousands that had mounted that first defense, only 30 of you remained. And among the dead was now counted his Lordship Orast Darrin, the Sterling Crown and the Winged victory.

Across the barren fields you see the bodies of the slain. Above and around you stand the other 29 survivors. Each stands with a helm in hand and head bowed, each trying to understand how this could have come to pass. Each heart shattered with the loss.

As the din of battle begins to fade from your ears and the sickening reality of this devastating loss begins to sink in, you feel the cold wind that blows over you, almost for the first time, and the sound of giant leathery wings beating in the air above you. You feel as well as hear the heavy impact of a giant body on the ground. It sends pulses through your body and you shift your weight as the ground trembles. Lifting your face you see before you the gigantic form of a great platinum dragon. Scales shimmering in the sun of the summer afternoon like small silver fish darting through a pool of water. The great head lowers toward you and you can not but help locking eyes with the great blue orbs of the Dragon’s eyes. You feel something; not peace, not joy, but a balm that begins to soothe the pain of this loss. In unspoken words you know that this hurt will never cease and the wound will never heal, but in time there will again be moments of peace and you and your comrades will once again feel happiness. Not today, but in time. With the wings stilled; the warmth of the day creeps back and your tears begin to dry.

Before you stands Bahamut, the great Platinum God, the Breath of Life, the protector of Briouune and the balance to the celestial triumvirate of the Forge Father, the Mother Flame and the Pneuma - the breath of the soul. In your life you have always kept Gods at arm's length, placing your direct faith in the Sterling Crown and your fellow arms men. It is a strange thing to peer into the eyes of a God.

Bahamut bends low and gathers the 30 of you with his eyes. His rumbling voice speaks these words to you, “You who stand here breathing in life, in the face of death, shall stand as the first in a long line of paladins called to serve me. You shall be known as the Martyred Call, for in answering my call, you have sacrificed much. You each shall Stand as a paragon of honor and justice. You shall smite evil wherever it is found and still show compassion to those who have strayed from the path of righteousness. You shall defend the weak, bring freedom to the persecuted, and protect the ideals of justice and order.” He breathes onto you and engraved on your breast plate is a hand, opened with the palm facing forward and in the center of the hand is a flame. “Do not fear,” you hear echoing in your head “the Sterling Crown will return when your people are once again in need. So long as his brow wears the crown your people will be held in my protection and shall flourish.” With that Bahamut reaches out and takes the body of Darrin in his claws. His wings begin to beat and he rises into the air. You watch as he is born away into eternal life outside this plane. Unseen by any, the crown slips from his head and falls unheeded to the ground below."