House Norrington
"On trampling hooves"
Like the Lysanders of the northern forests, the blood of House Norrington is traced back to the Ereenese settler kings, long before the Age of the Torch. The Ereen ruled over Enkh, and much of what is known today as the Purelands, as the chosen - the holy riders. History remembers them as the great Elk Kings, and so do we.
Ancient stories speak of the silver riders who claimed these lands in the name of the Huntress. They united the Ereen and cemented their rule from the fortress of Icegrove. Master stonemasons forged the bricks from elder ice and marble, laying them to form the mighty castle that still stands, a witness to the greatness of the Kingdom of old.
Much has changed since then. As centuries went by, the royal elks diminished in strength and size, the eastern folk spread to our lands - bringing along their language, their culture, and their gods. Were our ancestors really so irresponsible to let their ways drift into history? Our courts might have acquired a new sense for eastern fashion, but the Ereen rulers never lost their ferocity.
When Luther Sander the Trailblazer started his conquest of the Ereenese lands, he set his eyes on the Holtlands. Librarians say the flames of the sacred woods were heard all the way from the Deepwood. The screams of the innocent and the blaze lit up the night skies. My ancestors knew what was to come. And so they prepared the lines, they rallied the men, they mounted their silver horses.
After the northern folk knelt, Duke Norrington, the Elk King, waited for his opponent at the end of Meadow's Clearing. For five days and five nights he waited. His patience never failed him. The eastern warlord finally marched out of the deep green and set up his army along the fields. The Trailblazer's torch was soon to be snuffed out. Duke prepared his heavy cavalry, counting more than twenty thousand - a charge that would put an end to the eastern dynasty was soon to be set afoot.
And then, the Lazanth banners across the battlefield were put down, the drums of war died down. Luther's brother, the acting general, sent 500 men to the slaughter while the rest of the army retreated. The men marched back, swords sheathed, tails between their legs. Word came the following day that Luther Sander had abdicated and abandoned his army and his people. At the sight of the mighty southern army, the Lazanth Lords urged Duncan Sander to retreat and end the western campaign.
The people of Enkh paraded, celebrating their victory. Duke Norrington was then remembered as the Scarecrow King. Though now, our line rules by the grace of the Thorned Crown, our folk will never forget their true nature, their roots. Much of our lands might have been introduced into the realm by right of marriage, but unlike other lands, ours was never conquered. Some travelers still speak of a land deep into the Purelands, a land where royal elks still run free, a land where the Elk King still rules. Many ask of the potential usurper's return. But our line also asks: Will the Elk King really return from the west?
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