text: The House of the Wolf I was but twenty and one when I came to the New World. We arrived to establish some trading missions further inland with the local tribespeople and through my encounters as a Steward I encountered a great deal of peoples. But none had stood out to me so much as the people of the Red River for whom we called the “Blue Eyes” on account of their physical appearance, which was by far the most distinct from all the rest. Now the reader should not trouble themselves in attempting to read more upon them for now they have already been either destroyed by conquest or plague like many other peoples I encountered. But for a time they had lived upon a river which gained its name from the clay that stirred beneath it. (Though others would claim it was from the blood that stained the rivers after a certain woman murdered her babe in its waters. But that is a tale for another time). It should be known there were others before us who sailed fourth up that very river but few men returned, and those who did spoke wild tales of men who shifted into animals and attacked them and their band. Others spoke of Pagan natives sacrificing Islemen to their Gods, and even further even spoke of wolves the size of bears that chased men of their senses. Wether these tales were true or not was irrelevant, as our Lord Sir Arthur Dayne wished to seek his riches with the people of the River anyways and brought a host of men to ensure it was done. After a day of sailing upriver we came upon the village we were met by an incursion of their warriors and elders in a show of force, as our presence in these lands has been noted for some time. One can only imagine they expected the worst of us as their womenfolk and children daughter shelter either in their thatch covered homes or in the trees beyond our vision. Once we pulled our ship ashore and unfurled our banner of the Golden Stagg and a akward silence befell upon us until we made the gesture that we meant them no harm and offered them gifts of Bread and Salt like we did with the other tribes we had encountered down there river. Now the reader should know there were 12 of us in all: 6 men at arms, 2 stewards (including myself) 3 sailors and one knight. The last one, Sir Arthur Dayne was true to his mission and made sure we acted on our best behavior to the point of making us kneel before their chieftain when we finally met him (an act the King would find repulsive but nesscary no less). Relations however warmed as the river men brought us to our village and we were allowed to take a closer look into their daily lives for whom we had interrupted, and after a while even the women and children approached us. Though they dared not come very close as we must have looked something like goblins to them but it was here I was able to write down their features. Now the Blue eyes were not like the other tribes we encountered along the coastline. Their skin was pale like snow and their eyes were blue like the water and they had Black hair as the raven whereas the Bearskins that we had encountered on the coastline had brown eyes and brown of hair and were more thin in appearance than their brethren in the inland (if we could even consider them brethren). Their people were also curious of us in turn and more particular the arms we carried and the clothes we wore. However, much to his annoyance many amongst them stayed away from Sir Dayne when he attempted to speak to the Blue eyes. In general speaking to them was difficult. I myself asked them many questions as was my duty as a Steward. I asked them about their Pagan Gods they might have worshiped, how they lived and most importantly, where could pelts be found so as we may have something to show for our efforts. However in return they just smiled and nodded in the sign that they had no idea what I was asking in the matter most natives of the continent generally did. However it should not be assumed that these were an ignorant people. For their survival in these frigid lands of the North was a testament to their knowledge of the land and their knowledge of primitive bronze working I could see from the hatchets their warriors held and some of their people even wore shoes and belts like ourselves. The Village itself was also a small wonder in itself. Unlike the villages of the bearskins we encountered these people had assembled their village in a circular pattern along the river, with the smallest of huts leading to the largest one in the center of the village. For a time we assumed that this building, (for it was much too robust to be considered just some hut) was the home of the Cheif. But We did not realize our folly until the Cheif himself refused to be even nearby it much less ourselves and even less Sir Dayne whose patience was growing thin with our hosts. For some reason or the other however me and my colleague were allowed to study the building for a time (perhaps it was because we were the only ones amongst our retinue who were unarmed) , and it’s likeness I shall describe: unlike the other buildings of this village (or this land in general) it was made of cut stone blocks held together with a sort of cement. A pair of wolves the size of men carved in stone guarded its entrance that was 2 oak wood doors and upon them were several drawings of men dressed as wolves fighting against Staggs in some sort of mythical hunt. I once assumed this was some sort of ancient story amongst their people. Little did I know at the time it was a grave omen. Day turned into night as the Blue eyes became more welcoming of our presence and welcomed us by their fires. I had learned little in the time I was there frustratingly but things however changed when all the village people began to go to the building and for once they did not protest our being there. They opened the oaken doors and we entered with all the rest to find it to be some sort of Hall with the center of the roof exposed so we could see above us like a beaming light the full moon shining. From there we sat down on some tattered hides as they began their ritual. Nothing of this kind was unusual about this as we’ve witnessed many peoples of these lands do so. They would begin to dance in the moonlight as they dawned wolf skins and chant as they did so in their language and this continued for some time. Then a band of children welcomed Sir Arthur Dayne himself to this ritual tugging at his hand and laughing in a friendly manner. Sir Dayne being a God fearing man did not want to participate in such a pagan ritual but he did not want to disappoint the children and so he continued much to the laughter of his own men in good cheer. Sir Dayne stood there a bit akward staring at the men dancing around them as they chanted louder and louder when suddenly they drew their knives and without honor began to stab at him to death where his armor that bore the sigil of the Stagg could not protect him. His men at arms at once descended upon a fury to save their Lord as people screamed and acted wickedly as they Howled and such and descended into a mad frenzy of their own biting and attacking us in the process. I myself almost lost my life as I ran for the door when suddenly a woman no older than twenty and two grabbed a rock and bludgeoned my arm before drawing her arm back to crash my head in. If it wasn’t for the timely encounter of a sailor who drew his knife and killed her I would have surely perished in that Stone cornered Hell. Others were not so fortunate, for our Lord Sir Dayne paid for insulting God with his life. For even though his men tried their best to save his life he was too far gone and they could not reach him in time when he fell to the floor with blood flowing from his neck. The only honor in his death was that he died as he lived: with sword in hand. The rest of us descended to the ship from the Hall with the Blue eyes chasing us the whole way. A few men fell along the way but there was no saving them for we could not spare the time. We reached the ship with the grace of God and pushed off the shoreline. A men at arms who under ordinary circumstances would be knighted for his heroism pushed the ship so that it may take off before he drew his sword to keep our pursuers at bay and the last we saw of him he went down fighting upon the shore. We then decided to end our journey and return to our homelands for we had been gone many months now and if there was ever a sign from God to leave it was that. And so I end my testimony of the lands beyond the Red River and the death of Sir Arthur Dayne. I can now confirm the rumors that were once put fourth are not true. There are no monsters beyond the River only men.