[Some pelts go up in the wilderness]



  • [Some pelts go up in the wilderness, animal blood used as the ink, they are few and far between, put placed in oft travelled trails].

    It is rather pathetic that the Cormyrian's of today have resorted to calling on halfling councils to come running and save them from a minor were-rat problem. But this is just a symptom of a disease. Cormyr has become slothful, and weak. She has forgotton the old ways, when her Men were warriors, who felt no fear, who respected the god of the hunt, and would go out and hunt in a manner honoring him, to show their strength. They knew for their country to prevail and survive, that they too would have to be hardened, so that they would not know defeat, but only the victory of slaughtering their prey. They used to grow their beards long, thick, and wild. Now, they crop them short, and stubby, preferring to hide by the warmth of the fire in their homes to shelter them from the elements, rather than adapting to survive in the raw wilderness. They have abandoned the very thing that gave them their strength.

    The blessing of the beastlord will be available for those who come out and hunt in the old ways, who come out as men and warriors to challenge predators for their place on the food chain, who will grow their beards long and thick like the thick hides of the very alpha predators they seek to replace. Only through a culling of the weak will Cormyr ever become strong like it was before.

    To that end I call on those men of Cormyr who wish to return to the old ways of strength. Oil your beards, sharpen your weaponry, and come forth. Hunt, in the manner of the Old Ways, honor the beast lord, bathe in the blood of your prey when your hunt is victorious. Should you fall prey in the process, know that your weak bloodline being culled has benefited your country. Should you succeed, know you will bring strength to your country and find the blessing of the Black Blooded Pard.