Freeing of the Farms

After several hundred years passed since the Second Unification Period, and the kingdom was large and spread wide, the king of that time, a beloved and righteous man, called Elmshart the Fair, was usurped by his younger brother, Prince Elmsard, a jealous and wicked soul. His ascension to the throne was cause for fear and grief, for his heart hated everything his brother had made, and his mind was poisoned by jealousy. His brother Elmshart had been returning from the wedding of their sister, when he was set upon by a roving band of rogues, who had secretly been paid to this task. The rogues killed the king and made off with enough riches to make it seem that the whole was a highway robbery gone wrong. But Rowanwood, the King’s closest friend in war and council, feeling no love for the Prince and having awareness of his evil, had suspicion to the truth. He could prove nothing, and bided his time in the shadow of the new King, watching and waiting. Rumors of war were rising in the East, and King Elmsard sought to make a great show of his newly acquired powers. He set to build a great army, one that could rival even the hosts of the mighty Klavier in Sazstran. But to do so, he set out a Draft for the men, and the rest he imposed great taxes and levvies to feed and arm them. For while the blacksmiths in Farmington were great, they were not like the swordsmiths around them. King Elmsard made great purchases and contracts for arms and armaments, determined to drape his armies fearsomely. Great buildings were constructed for the purpose of housing the armies and training them, for tending to such an army's needs and for storing their foods and arms. The kingdom was bent and broken under these impossible feats, as they had not the ability to perform such great tasks so suddenly as he demanded. With so many demands, food became rationed to the serfs, and those who could no longer afford taxes became slaves to their landlords, them and their families. With each passing month, the burdens worsened.

In the thirtieth year of the reign of King Elmsard, it was that Rowanstar, the son of Rowanskand and nephew to Rowanwood, began plotting with his closest friends what might be done about their current state. A terrible sickness had struck the wheat harvest two years prior, and the land had not yet recovered from it. Rowanstar watched in growing despair as the people fell to ruin, all the while the lords and nobles ate off the fat of the land and basked in their rich halls. Hatred burned in Rowanstar’s heart, but pity and compassion tempered it. So he drew together those he called friend, and spoke with them about these things. They were young and spoke spiritedly. Their eyes were burning and their hearts were strong. They had not yet been broken by the hardships. But Rowanstar did not talk spiritedly, though the passion of their plight was strong. For he knew that only decisive and firm action could deliver them. Ten were they altogether: Rowanstar, Orkand, Avandrik, Esbred, Greenwall, Flares and his twin brother Flameth, Havald, and Turner. Rowanstar found common cause in Rowanwood, his uncle, and together they talked and plotted how a coup might be achieved. Rowanwood and Rowanstar set out in secret to gather those who still grieved the loss of their King, and shared Rowanwood’s dismay at the rise of King Elmsard. Orkand and Avandrik worked tirelessly to fashion arms in secret, as well as help in teaching the peasants to fight. Esbred served in the matters of espionage, as he worked as a squire for one of Elmsard’s knights. Greenwall and the twins did much by way of instruction of the peasants as well as secreting of supplies and establishment of waypoints should they need to retreat or escape. Havald was a necessary part but perhaps not as prominent. He was a thinker and aided as much in strategy and plans of battle as well as made plans of what was to come when the coup was over. His early plans would serve as a jumping off point for the formation of the democracy. Turner was the youngest of them, but no less important. He gathered herbs and made preparations for the coming battles. Using that knowledge of his mother who had been a powerful witch and well skilled in healing arts.
The first of the battles was a glorious affair. At word of Esbred, it was decided that they would strike when the King was to be at his autumn house for an extended hunting party. His retinue would be small and his guard no doubt at its lowest. Deep in his own country, he would have little fear of enemy forces, and he would have enough guard to keep him safe from any assassin. But little did he realize. The serfs gathered at an appointed hour and marched silently through the night. They were set in the forest and around the hall, and struck when the sun dawned, while the men of the king were preoccupied in thought with the hunting plans and hazy from their early rising. The battle was short and swift. It would have been too easy. It was purely by chance that the King had gotten to his horse in time and managed to flee with two of his men. One of the men was taken down before the getaway was completed.
All the King’s men were slain. No one was left alive to give information to the King. The peasants were sent back to their villages at once, and as many of the traces of their presence erased. Save one, which betrayed them. It was by ill fate that Orkand’s personal dagger was forgotten in the fray, having been jostled from his belt. This dagger had an inscription upon it that was recognized by a few as that of Orkand’s family. Orkand was taken and tortured. He refused to say anything outright, but the meaning of this whole thing was clear enough: the attack had been performed by the people of the land.
The aftermath of that battle was a terrible thing. Curfew was established and many citizens were imprisoned under suspicion. Some were executed as traitors to the crown. Some confessed under torture of what small parts they knew. Orkand was named, as they knew. But more often was said the name of Rowanstar, as the chief of them. Rowanstar laid low in hiding, knowing the surrounding lands enough to survive unseen. He bided his time and staged multiple skirmishes and attacks to dissuade the King’s men.
The second battle was on the castle itself. The peasants sneaked in at different times and in many disguises, by secret paths and varied entrances, as servants or otherwise. The battle was one fought in shadows. A killing here and there and quick hiding of bodies. They made their way down to the dungeons and set Orkand free. When word traveled back that he was safe, Rowanstar led a diversion to help their escape. With the largest troop of the peasants, they stormed the king’s chambers. These servants and scullery maids and squires all suddenly drew swords and crude weapons and assailed the king’s men and nobles. The slaughter was unprecedented, as all within were caught unawares. As the alarm bells were struck, they made their retreat. They were attacked, and most made it out, back into the shadows they came from. But twenty some, as well as Rowanstar, were captured. King Elmsard took great delight in his new prisoner. The instigator, this Rowanstar, peasant boy turned traitor to his liege. But Rowanstar would not bow or beg. He stood defiant and brave. And the King felt afraid, for the King was a snake, a leech, whose power was not his own strength, but his trickery and devilry that he made others work for him. But the King was not without some cunning. And in his efforts to break his foe, he learned through the grapevine of a certain woman that Rowanstar held dear. So she was found out and brought before the King, and a terrible envy came over him when he saw her, for she was very beautiful. And when he demanded of her, she told him that she was promised to Rowanstar. But King Elmsard wickedly took her for himself in a forceful manner, and made of her his consort, imprisoned for him to do as he saw fit. And he made sure Rowanstar knew every bit of it. But while the King hoped to weaken his spirit, quite the opposite happened. Seeing the distress of his love only made Rowanstar burn hotter with resolve. His former compassion and pity that tempered him dwindled now, as revenge threatened to spill over.
Now during this time of his imprisonment, the peasants laid low. Orkand was secreted away to a distant place to heal. The remaining friends worked day and night to prepare a third battle, and to rescue their friend. Flameth took charge, giving directions with the wise council of Havald. Flares meanwhile entered into a confidence and eventual apprenticeship with the dungeon master, in the hopes that when the time came, he would be at the perfect place and time for freeing Rowanstar when the third battle was ready. The King has increased the misery and burden of the people. They in turn waxed and waned, torn by the desire for the cruelty to end and the hope of gaining their freedom under the direction of the ten who risked their lives to lead them to such an end. But with Rowanstar, their leader, gone, hope was hard to come by.
Nearly a three and a half months had passed since the imprisonment of Rowanstar. And things were stirring once more. Having returned in strength and with gathered outsiders, Orkand returned to his friends in secrecy. They had found their time at last to strike. Orkand would take his small host to create a diversion and call out the castle guard and any soldiers therein. As most were away for their winter encampment, the opportunity was perfect. But the situation became more dire, as Rowanstar was brought before the King who had grown bored of the wait and wanted some kind of reaction from his enemy. He was surprised to see Rowanstar no less diminished by his imprisonment. Though his body was perhaps weakening, his eyes still burned bright as ever. But the King had a terrible thought. He had his consort, the love of Rowanstar, brought before them. And when she was summoned, the King told Rowanstar to say goodbye. For she was his now. Really and truly. For she was pregnant with his child. And as there was nothing further the King could do to her to hurt Rowanstar, she had served her purpose. And he drove his sword through her. It took but a moment for her to die. And Rowanstar held her in his arms as she spoke her last to him, a whispered something only he could hear. And when her life left her, Rowanstar’s heart darkened and his mind clouded with fire. He ripped the sword from her body, and slew the King where he stood. And all hell broke loose.
The Final Battle was unleashed on the city. The host of Orkand and the waiting, seething, surging forces of the land poured into the city, waylaid the fighting men that dared stand against them, and slaughtered the nobles and lords that had so long stood over them. The resistance was quick to surrender as it came to them that the King was dead. Orkand took his host and rallied the peasants to him, and all together they drove out the remaining King’s loyalties from the surrounding land.
The nine found their friend Rowanstar, and under Turner’s guidance he was healed, for the King’s guard that had been in the room had attacked him after the shock of the King’s death had worn off. But though Rowanstar was healed in body, something else had died in him.
In resolution, the heroes of that terrible conflict established the new Kingdom of Farmington, giving its power of rule to the freed peoples of its lands. These were as according to the things set down by Havald, and were later expanded and perfected. In all the world, nothing quite like the Freeing of the Farms has ever been seen. It is this which Farmington takes it’s great pride, in the remembering of all that was fought for and all that was lost to achieve their freedom.