Snow still blanketed the ground when the fighting began. All provinces were told to expect an attack from the sea and to repel as they could.  Everyone braced for war.

Alcazar, Tirian and Jared had devised an amulet that when worn, would keep the wearer Telepathically linked to Tirian.  In this way, Tirian, as an empath, would act as a information hub to relay information.  They only managed to make one such amulet, and after many attempts.  The item was entrusted to Lars Castan, who commanded at the furthest northern front.  He was not happy with what he felt was an "eye" about his neck, but he agreed to wear it "as long as you are not telling me when to wipe my arse."

In the center of the country there were two fronts, Forbesh and Malpedi. Forcellus Blaad's son Lamar would act as General Commander of the Blaad division in Forbesh, and Duke Jonas Corbam would command his own forces in the Malpedun.  King Ironfist Grimbow would lead his own Grimdon forces.  And Kanaille, a Raylan chief, would command the Raylan forces.

Garthon Blade would be Field Commander of the volatile southern front, commanding what was left of Bonilan. King Lythe rode against advice "They need to see me riding, and they need to see me at our weakest point."  And so, the entire party was once again on the road together, this time going directly toward the violence that they had always avoided.

The King's party arrived in Bormis to find a ragtag army with more deserters than fighting men.  They knew that if Fane were to attack, Bormis would be lost.  They rallied the town to build retaining walls, ditches and other impediments.  They knew that Fane must attack them.  If they bepassed the city they would then be sandwiched between themselves and Corbam. After several days, Jared and Tirian rode north to seek reinforcements.

"Our scouts tell us that there are three divisions of Troc and one of Fane in the Corbam Pass" declared Duke Jonas when they arrived in Corbam.  "We are one division of men and one division of Grimdun.  If they come at us, we are doomed.  We have no men to give."  The Duke and King Ironfist seemed to be at odds on this point.  "The Troc will not leave Zimurac" he said.  "And the Fane will not trust the Troc to leave the pass to them."  "You do not know that" fired back the Duke.  "Your people are safe in Grimdon" he snarled, "Mine are here."  Ironfist looked at him with disdain.  "If they come, you are already dead.  You have nothing to lose but men better used elsewhere."  The Duke stood, his anger rising, "we will not be overrun by Troc!  Nor dictated to by Grimdun.!" "Lords!" began Jared "let us remain calm!  Perhaps it is best that you both act according to your inclination.  The Grimdun should march south.  And Corbam should remain."

The ancient tunnels within the Malpedun were first built by the Grimdun.  They had many inhabitants over the years, most recently the Orog in the eastern half, and the Troc in the west.  And so it was with relish, that King Ironfist sent his son Axebringer and another division of Grimdun northward toward the Pass of the Malpedun to help the efforts there.  Forcellus Blaad received them in Kalda at the eastern end of the Malpedun Pass.  He would command more non-human than human forces as the Rayla of Hamellille also arrived. Forcellus was aware of the more dire situation in Bormis and sent messengers by ship to Giorda and Baritor to send men south.  This secured another division of men marching to defend Bormis.  They would barely arrive, some still on the march as Fane finally left the safety of the Revan Pass and attacked.  The Battle of Bormis arrived "to crumple the first flower of spring" as bards would later sing.

Next: The Battle of Bormis

This map depicts the Fane and Crown holdings at the start of the Domish Civil War.  Fane had already seized Bonilan and secured the Revan Pass before the crown could react.

Spring came early in the year 1200.  It was as if the elements were eager for the blood feast they were about to receive.  Before the first month of spring Fane had secured an Oroc and Troc alliance, telling them that the Grimdon and Rayla were allied with the new human King.  They were promised land and gold for their help.  The passes near Zimurac were defended by the Troc and the Malpedun and Forbeshi passes by the Oroc.  The King Petros' forces would have to march on the narrow strips of flatland either in the west along the shore, or past Morban Lake north of the Malpedun.  The latter would put them between two Oroc strongholds.  This would leave the Fane army free to reinforce, or plunder.  And plunder they did.  On the very first day of spring they attacked the Dukedom of Bonilan and took it.  Their armies took the Revan pass and the town of Reva.  In this way, the Petrosians would have to come at Fane from inferior positions at any point along the new long and ragged Fane border.

The war council of Lythe Petros included himself, Tirian, Garthon, Jared, Forcellus Blaad, and the Mage Alcazar.  Their plan would be first to contain Fane.  Castan would hold any advance in the north, Blaad, Fortan and Corbam would shore up the center, Portha and Bonilan would hold the south (along with assorted smaller provinces that Petros had acquired during the contest.)  Porthas ship would be used to contain Fane.  But Lythe was worried about Portha's commitment.  He was not as concerned about holding the south, thinking that Fane would head straight for the capital from it's closest stronghold; Malpedi - which would neatly divide the Kingdom.  Still, without Porthas ships, Fane could conceivably attack DOM with depleting raids from the sea.  He would be forced to hold back troops.  He cursed Keldrun and Orsan for not having left the Kingdom with a navy.  His worries were all justified as news arrived that Fane had won Bonilan with an unexpected invasion across the snow covered fields.  And once the messengers had been sent and the armies dispatched, the second great blow hit.  Portha would not be coming to the aid of the kingdom.  Duke Dagoras Portha reported that he had greater concerns.  "Portha and Gandus are at war" announced the messenger.  "They have no right to conduct war without the Kings permission!" shouted Forcellus Blaad.  Still, there was nothing to be done.  They feared Gandus siding with Fane and attempting to attack the capital as Portha had reported that they had been attacked by Gandus. Lythe sought not to punish either province at this crucial time.  As it turned out the Gandus attack was provoked by Portha.  It seems that Dagoras' grudge held on after the contest, he still wanted to win Gandus.  This would not be the end of the ambitions of the Porthan family.

And so, at the start of the bloodiest conflict that the Kingdom had thus far seen, the armies were arranged with a weak southern position for the King, and with definite possibility of a devastating flanking by the forces of Fane.  In the end, several factors would play key roles in preventing ultimate disaster, the cautious nature of Jastral Fane; the help of the Raylan and Grimdon who would ride against their ancient foes, the Troc and the Orog; some clever wizardry between Alcazar, Jared and Tirian; a King who was as good a diplomat as a leader; the wisdom of Forcellus Blaad who would later found the famed Forcellus Academy; the mighty sword arm of Garthon Blade; and of course the bravery and sacrifice of the fighting men of DOM.

Next: The Four Fronts

This map depicts the final outcome of the DOM Triplo Contest and the disposition of provinces before the Domish Civil War.

They met in the bailey.  None of them had fully realized that the winning of the Kingdom would be but a first step.  They had no skill in governance.  They had hoped that the old King would somehow guide them.  That there would be wise men.  Elders.  They realized quickly that what they had was an unruly set of provinces that either had expected to win the crown, or be supported by an ally that did.  Those that got neither planned to take their troops and return home to the days before Keldrun Fane.  Yet now, it was Fane that held them together.  They bickered, they ranted.  In the end, Tirian, Jared, Lythe and Garthon realized that their best hope would lie in doing what they had trained for.  They hoped that knowledge and wisdom would follow performance.

Lythe and his party mounted the platform.  The Festival lights had gone out, so Jared supplied the Light spell that illuminated them.  Tirian stood slightly behind him as did Garthon.  Lythe took a breath and began.  "Dukes, nobles, citizens.  This is not a time for speeches, yet I must speak.  We have inherited a Kingdom.  We.  All of us.  For I have nothing to force you to obey me against your will.  No vast armies.  No oaths or debts to collect.  You can all return home as you will - and await Fane on your own. Or, we can face him as we did last night.  Together.  He nor anyone can defeat us all if we act together."  Once again exhibiting their uncanny ability to appear at the right moment, the troop of Grimdon with their axes bloodied, marched through the open castle gate.  Not to be outdone, the Raylan archers, who had been practicing their craft noticeably in the inner city, gathered together below the platform.  "All of us" Lythe continued "can have a Kingdom worthy of our ancestors.  A Kingdom that can surpass any in wisdom, justice and prosperity.  Will you join us?"

Years later, Revan scholars surmised that King Petros, as a minor Enchanter, and Lord Jared also an Enchanter and a minor Energeticist combined with His Eminence Tirian a Raylan Empath, simply beguiled the sleepless crowd that morning.  There was no doubt that spells were cast.  But other accounts describe it as a moment of clarity and sanity after years of madness.  In any case, they all signed on.  At least to go after Fane in the spring, and under Petrosian rule.

Lythe and his party immediately set up a Grand Council of Dukes.  He did this to keep them close, and in fact, to get advice.  Jared went to the University of DOM to contact Alcazar, Chief Mage of both Keldrun and Orsan.  Tirian made his home in the Church of Esaam and began a discussion that would last throughout Lythe's reign and beyond.

The rest of the winter was occupied with preparations for war.  The Grimdon, especially resistant to the cold, proved invaluable at maintaining communication between the capital and distant snow-covered provinces.  Messages from Portha, however,  were few and far between.  The Grimdon reported that they would be kept away from the Duke for weeks at a time.  Lythe feared that Portha was planning his own future - away from the Kingdom.

Wanting to further involve the Dukes, Lythe tapped Forcellus Blaad I as his military commander both for his tactical skills and because Blaad was midway between the capital and Castan.  Lythe had always thought that if anyone would have left the Kingdom it would have been Castan.  They spoke their own language in addition to Domish, and they were the most different in culture.  But they proved to be his most stalwart supporters.  Lars and he became good friends.  Perhaps Lars Castsan, as his ancient namesake, wanted to lead his people to something greater.

Next: A Bloody Spring

The days clicked by,  As predicted Castan and Blaad were finalists in both Khost and Icekregg.  Ice crystals were carved above the inner city so that they joined together covering the streets below.  Into this canopy the Energeticists would cast light spells to enthrall the masses.

Day by day the our heroes' apprehensions grew.  Optimists said "one year of contest is preferable to years of civil war", but Lythe was not at all sure anything was avoided.  Rumors abounded of disguised Fane troops inside the city, in Giorda, in Dorcer and just about everywhere else.

As the big day finally arrived, the inner city was mobbed with people.  There was a platform above the crowd above both the Church of Esaam and the Royal Castle.  Crowds in the central (Dorcer) square could see both platforms.  Above the Church would stand the clerics, and on the Castle the Dukes and the King.  The Clerics would make the proclamation, and the King would hand over his crown, then the lights would be lit by the Energeticists.  Lythe was escorted to the platform while Jared, Tirian and Garthon remained in the bailey, crowded with noble retainers.  Unknown to them was that Fane's forces had quietly positioned themselves near the outside of the castle gate, and at the bridges leading out of the inner city.

Finally, the moment arrived.  The clerics called all to heed their announcement.  "To the nobles and citizens of the Dominion, a King has been chosen according to the Article of Contest of DOM Triplo.  By the name of Esaam, your exalted King from this day hence shall be… King Lythe I of Petros."  For just a second, there was silence.  As if time stood still.  And then, the great lights were lit and the city was bathed in fractured crystalline light that matched the epic fracture that immediately began in the streets below.  Swords were drawn and Fane's men sliced into the guards at the base of the platform, and at the guards at the castle gate.  The Castans were ready for this and drew their weapons as well.  The screams of revelers pierced the night as Fane took the bridges to block outside troops from entering.  The entire inner city was soon locked in bloody chaos.

On the platform, Duke Jastral Fane jumped into action the moment the lights were lit.  Drawing his sword he dispatched the King then leaped off the platform to his men below.  Lythe shouted above the ensuing chaos  "regardless of what you think of this contest - will you stand with me against this lawlessness?"  The dukes had little option, Fane was upon them.  Jastral Fane had done Lythe Petros a favor, for nothing unites strangers quicker than fighting together. 

Fane had brought far more than the allowed troops, yet so had Castan and the Dukes managed to fight their way down from the platform with this help.  Garthon's blade and Jared's Energy Storms were also at the bottom and dispatched many.   Fane increasingly found it difficult to fight the combined efforts of the other Provinces whose distaste for Jastal and the insanity of the Fane King were fierce motivation.  And if Fane counted on most of the castle troops to side with him, he was disappointed. 

Revellers were unwitting shields in a dance of death raging in the inner city.  The northern bridge fell to the Blaad army in an hour and the southern bridge to the Fortan shortly afterward. Realizing that their coup was failing, Fane executed a bloody retreat over the third bridge to the northwest, and headed straight to Westgate, using the confusion in the streets to aid in their escape.  With a population in bloody chaos they were allowed to run without pursuit.

Lythe knew that his next actions might mean the difference between unity and civil war.

Next: A Unity of Necessity

The second order of business was financing his entourage.  He knew that to be taken seriously he could not arrive without retainers.  But now that he was here, he considered disbanding all but the party if he could not figure out a way to put them up for the winter.  At least until the Festival.  He held a hope that Bella would be able to supply a bob or two, and that she would still be in DOM.  Despite the fact that the crown had room in the castle for five of the royal party, Lythe, Tirian, Garthon and Jared agreed to brave it out with the troops if Bella could not aid them.

Bella was very happy to see Lythe and surprised and elated that he had found the signet ring of Petros.  She made light of their chances of winning, she did not want to see them disappointed. Baldoral's aunt Jura had come to stay with Bella in her final months and had left the bulk of her estate to Bella when she died.  She was happy to grant Lythe a piece of it.  "You finally get paid for your work" she said.  The party put up the Petrosians and the Raylan.  The latter group were housed in a farmhouse near Bella's residence in Southgate where they were regarded with much curiosity by the locals.  The Petrosians put up in a Southgate inn.  The Party agreed that they should stay at the Castle.  They were unsure how to deal with the Grimdon when they finally made it to town.

The major topics of bar conversation surrounded who would win the contest, how Duke Jastral Fane would react if he did not win, and who would field the best teams for Khost and Icekregg this year, Castan or Blaad.  On the day that Castan arrived a palpable ripple passed through the city. Arriving two days before the games were to begin, the Castans barely had time to raid the taverns before they donned their Icekregg competition battle gear.  But raid they did.  The party was officially on. 

Lythe, Garthon, Jared and Tirian knew they were outsiders.  Staying at the castle did nothing to change that.  They visited the places that the other nobles visited, the Black Horde Inn and The Bailey Inn.  The Church of Esaam.  But they were always held at arms length from the other nobles.  The presence of Tirian as well labelled them.   When Lars Castan arrived at the castle it was as if a light was switched on.  Castan was also an outsider to the "Midland" nobles, but did not care.  He all but adopted Lythe and crew for that very reason.  He also showed his admiration when informing Lythe that a Grimdon party camping just north of the city had announced alliance with Petros.

The Castans traditionally took over the Inn of the Bleeding Sore in Northgate, and so our party found themselves spending far more time there than at the castle.  The Grimdon were brought in and became more the guests of the Castans than of Lythe and his party. Lythe wondered how far this friendship would carry if the Castans lost the crown to the Petrosians.  Duke Lars confided in them during one well soaked bar jaunt "We have one hundred men in DOM, and another hundred in Stammery.  We know that Fane is not going to let this go down unless it goes in their favor.  We are going to be ready."  Lythe could not resist asking, "what if it does not go down in you favor?"  His answer, "I will have to deal with that as it comes.  But I will not let Fane steal this kingdom again - and definitely not Jastral Fane."  His head swimming with apprehension and barley wine, Lythe could not fathom why this outsider did not simply start his own country, and instead asked "What if Fane legitimately wins?"  "He damn well better not win!" is all that Lars would offer, and at the top of his lungs.

Next: The Winner is Announced

The old City of Dorcer would be unrecognizable to anyone of even a generation earlier.  The new Royal Castle of the new City of DOM had finally been finished, taking up the entire northern half of formerly wooded Bailey Island.  The old Castle Dorcer was now the New Church of Esaam.  The streets of the central city to the south had been raised to circumvent the usual spring floods that inundated the central city every year.  Old front doors were now basements as the streets were raised up to the second story level.  The old streets below remained however, and "the underground" cultivated it's own nightlife and denizens, not always a savory lot.  "The Nightshade" became a popular underground tavern, frequented by thieves, gamblers and cutthroats.  The entire underground was vacant during the spring floods.

DOM was rapidly filling up.  All Inns were jammed. Citizens were opening their houses and taking in boarders, renting space by the foot. Blaad, Fortan, and Bonilan had each brought one hundred men into the city.  Many more were coming from other provinces.  This added to the usual Midwinter crowd arriving for the Festival of Lights, an event started by Keldrun Fane featuring an Energetics extravaganza. Growing every year, pilgrims came from many provinces to witness the spectacle.  Sporting competitions were added during the reign of Orsan.  This brought provincial teams.  The Guilds were pleased, gold was pouring in, but this year there was a general unease in the air.  Would the contest end in chaos?  What would the transition bring?  Most bets were on Fane, and Portha, some on Castan, a few on Bonilan.  Fortan knew that they would still control the Guilds by contest rules, so winning the crown was not crucial.  The Dorcers (and rich ex-patriot Corvarrans who had emigrated long ago), owned much of the land, and would be content as long as city expansion continued.  No one wanted chaos.

The winner of DOM Triplo was to be announced precisely at Midwinter midnight during the Festival.  And so, with only a little over a month away, our party arrived in DOM.

They were unprepared for what they saw.  Lythe knew that if he did not get his items to the castle immediately, he would likely lose them to thieves.  Indeed on their way to the castle gate they were offered a provincial ring for purchase by a street mountebank.  Lythe could only imagine how he had gotten hold of it.  Tirian declared it a forgery without even seeing it.  The man's machinations radiated and were easily read by the Raylan Empath. The party drew closer and marched faster.  Amidst the cornucopia of sights, they still stood out as unique.  Eleven Raylan travelers amongst humans was out of the ordinary even here.

The agonizing trip to the Royal Castle finally over, they were given entrance to the huge inner bailey and there they waited.  Duke Bonilan, waiting there with men bristling with weapons and armor gave Lythe a self-satisfied grin as he and a retainer entered the great hall.  Finally "Petros" was called and Lythe and Garthon entered the hall.  It was a fine large room.  There were castle guards aplenty and a long table behind which were seated several men.  Lythe was asked questions about his family and parentage.  He was given oaths to repeat.  Finally Garthon was asked to lower the pack with the royal items.  The table seemed to regard Lythe as an young outsider who had come for a party and a bit of notoriety, but when Garthon opened his bag and produced item after item, the men fell silent and could only look at each other in disbelief.

Finally leaving the castle after an hour of such oaths and signings, Lythe felt he could finally breathe.  He wanted ale, and he wanted it now.

Next: The Festival of Lights

It was a crisp autumn morning as the party set out toward their journey's end.  There were now sixty.  The original party, the twenty five Petrosian volunteers, ten Corbam Regulars, and ten Raylan Archers.  Grimdon supplied eleven of their finest axe-weilders.  They offered more, but Lythe and Garthon agreed that this should primarily be a human force.  When asked to supply just ten, they insisted on "one more" to best the Raylan commitment.  Corbam also had offered more men, but Lythe did not want an overwhelming number of Corbam men.  Besides, even though Corbam had agreed to supply and outfit the party as needed, he did not want to be financially overly beholding to that province.  The Grimdon and Rayla proudly would accept no charity.

Word had reached them by afternoon that Fane might run into them as Duke Jastral Fane was himself headed for DOM over the Malpedun Pass at the head of an army of four hundred men - having paved his way in blood.  Knowing that the contest rules allowed only one hundred men to winter in DOM, Lythe speculated where Fane would keep the other three hundred other men.  "Giorda probably" offered Garthon.  This would mean that if Lythe brought his forces to DOM, he would be effectively cut off from Corbam and Hammellile, his main financial source.  How would they winter even their sixty until midwinter?  Still, he could not afford to leave them on this side of the Dorcer Sea with three hundred Fane milling about.  He began to wish he had allowed Corbam this headache in stead of him, but he had to press on.  "We will dig ice for pay if we must" they all generally agreed.

Luckily they were light and quick moving.  They made it to Giorda a full day before Fane would arrive.  The greedy ferrymen quickly surmised their dire situation, however, and quoted inflated prices for passage.  They briefly contemplated the Grimdon suggestion that they relieve the ferrymen of their heads, but they knew that such action would come back at them later.  The Grimdon disliked the idea of traveling on a human boat anyway, and used the price as an excuse to march the long way around to DOM from the north, through Baritor.  Lythe hated to split the party, but he could not afford to take everyone, and he could not chance the DOM late autumn not to strand him away from the capital with an errant blizzard, and lose the ability to register his contest entry.  And truth be told, he grew increasingly nervous of holding such a large number of royal items.  And so the party split.  The Corbam regulars would accompany the Grimdon, the Petrosians, the Raylan and the party would book passage. And Tirian made a mental note to recommend price regulation of the industry when they held the crown. 

The passage to DOM was appropriately rough.  As if by Divination, Lythe had called the early storm correctly.  From out of nowhere it came.  The ferryman had to make landing in Dorcer Province to the north of the capital, at Northway.  They all left the boat, the ferryman letting them know that their journey was at an end.  This meant a loss of income for the greedy wretch because Garthon leaned on him for a grudging partial refund, and an even greater loss for the poor sot because he would not get back soon enough to fleece money also ferrying Fane.  Athough as it turns out, this would save his life as Fane would not be in the mood to play his game.

And so, after a frigid camp in a snowy field in Northway, and amid the odd stares of peasants at their contingent of Raylan Archers and foreigners, the Petrosian party marched the last day of their nearly year long tromp and arrived at Northgate of the City of DOM, hopefully to stay for good.

Next: Petros Officially Enters DOM TRIPLO

 "I do not wish to insult you Lythe Petros, but you are very young.  You have no experience in government. And if you imagine that Fane will allow anyone without a standing army to win this contest, then you are also ignorant of the politics involved." 

Knowing this argument between the two would last awhile, Tirian took his leave from the party and went to visit the Raylan Grove of Hamellile. 

The discussion of the two prospective Kings went on or days. "I do not wish to insult you," the Duke continued, "but you are very young.  You have no experience in government. And if you imagine that Fane will allow anyone without a standing army to win this contest, then you are also ignorant of the politics involved."  In fact, I doubt that Fane will allow anyone besides themselves to walk away with this, no matter how many items we have collected.  You will need an army to enforce this."  The Dukes intention was to deliver a killing blow, but the Petrosians were not so easily fobbed off.  Lythe ordered himself to speak slowly in order to appear calm.  "I think that an army is a detriment.  If we are to be a united people, then I would hope that the other provinces would come to my aid.  Indeed what better way to curry favor with the new king than to provide arms.  Besides, from what I have heard, few individual provinces could compete with Fane on their own.  And you are right.  I have little experience in government.  But neither do I have an aversion to good advice."  The Duke considered this for a moment, then spoke again.  "You have had no contact with the largest players in this kingdom as I have.  You have not met with Bonilan, Fane, Castan, Blaad or Fortan.  You acquisitions are from the smaller provinces.  Even if you win, how can you imagine that they will follow you?  At least I am large enough to matter.  I have a base of subjects, you have only the agreement of a few nobles."

This discussion continued.  It became apparent that neither man was willing to stand down.  And so, the kingdom looked to be lost to Fane for their inability to name one of them as King.

Upon the fourth day of their arrival Tirian returned from Hamellile, and he did not return alone.  Fifty Raylan archers accompanied him along with a Grove Elder.  Duke Corbam could not mistake the message.  And by serendipity, on the day immediately following the arrival of the Raylan, the evidence of the final decision of King Ironfist became evident as one hundred Grimdon marched from the Great Hall and arrived at Corbam.

"Remember my commitment" said the clearly impressed Duke Corbam as he finally relinquished his claim on the kingship.  "You will perhaps represent more of this kingdom than anyone has before.  Just remember, Fane will not go down easily, and they will be here very soon."  The party started on their journey to DOM they very next day.

Next: DOM

Lythe recalled a conversation he had had with Corvarras while under house arrest.  "If Portha manages to best Gandus before that country turns in their items, you cannot win.  There are simply too few competitors in the south that can compete with Portha.  And Gandus will certainly fall to them."  And so, our Petrosian heros knew they could not rest on their laurels. 

They mapped out a path that would hopefully encounter ripe provinces.  Dorlan, their first possible contact, proved a hope and a disappointment.  As did Casunas, Bormis and Sondeg.  All had been visited  and challenged successfully by Corbam.  The hope now was that Corbam would realize that their only hope of power in the new kingdom would lie in combination with Petros.  Unless of course they had somehow managed to secure more items than even he had.  While in Casunas the party sought to make contact with the Grimdon once more, this time at their southernmost gate.  They were unrecognized and rebuffed at first, but their previous exploits eventually gained them access.

"We still seek your alliance great King" said Tirian when they finally found themselves in the Great Chamber.  "We are very close to achieving our goal.  It would be a tragic loss if you were not part of it.  Shall men alone dictate what happens outside of your Kingdom?  Will you not join with us and usher in a new order?  Your word of alliance alone is enough, yet we would welcome you among our ranks.  We journey to Corbam now by way of Bormis and Sondeg.  From there we make our way to DOM for the end of the contest.  If you would sanction any of your number to ride with us it would send a great message that could not be ignored."

Once again, the King declared that he was not quite ready to make such a commitment.  "I will think on this."  Unfortunately, the party did not have the luxury of time.

It was autumn before the ragged band of twenty eight men and one Raylan finally arrived in Corbam with no more items than they had in Corvarras.  The Duke seemed surprised to meet them.  "We thought that you must have died in the flume.  But as you arrive with retainers I see that you not only survived but have been busy."  "We have indeed sir" said Lythe.  "Your timing is excellent" the Duke continued "We were preparing to march to DOM with our collected regalia.  If you add your eight to our eleven, we shall certainly win.  I cannot imagine that anyone has collected more items than nineteen, except perhaps Fane.  Even if they win, we shall be a great power in the Kingdom."  Lythe was sweating again.  He had prepared his men for this eventuality, but still he felt a queasy turn in his stomach.  "Sir" began Lythe, and telling his now customary lie, said "we have just come from DOM where we have turned in our twenty items.  There would be no doubt at all that if you added YOUR items to OURS we would definitely win.  It is for that reason that we come to you."  The two men stared at each other.  They both knew what was at stake.

Next: The Tie Breaker