In the unimportant village of Grubendrachen, well within the realm of Wahnsinningen, lived a noble and prideful man; Freiherr Albrecht Kreuzer. Amongst the aristocracy of Middenland he was not of great importance, even less so considering the land and the lord he himself served. He was of humble origins as aristocracy goes. The son of a freiherr, who was the son of a freiherr, who was the son of a freiherr...and so on, his heritage was more tradition than actual fact. He ruled his realm at the behest of his lord, which made the title of Freiherr, or ‘free baron,’ all the more ridiculous.
He had a great brown beard that would make a dwarf proud and his eyes were a piercing icicle blue. His strength was renown amongst his people, a gift from Ulric undoubtedly, given his slender frame. He had a distinctive gait when he walked, a lifetime of riding in the saddle permanently altering his steps.
He was considered a kind man by his people and would often open his home in times of distress. He lived in a great fortified lodge, cleverly titled Hilltop, which sat, coincidentally, atop a hill next to the Drakwasser River. In times of trouble the villagers would hide within its walls; safe, secure and warm from the cold of winter or depravities of beasts. The Freiherr, his brothers and men would spend many a night guarding the ramparts and repelling abominations, shouting war cries to their deity of war, winter and wolves.
A small fence lined the village. One day a palisade would rise in its place, but for now the fence would suffice. The mill, which sat upon the river, was to bring prosperity and bountiful provisions to the village, but it was often inactive because of the frozen landscape. The villagers lived a hard life, but were contented nevertheless.
The inauspicious nature of his realm did not bother the Freiherr. He was to serve his family, his people and his lord to the best of his ability, for it would bring honor to himself and Ulric. His father had done so. And his father, and his father, and his father...and so on. All served the lord of Wahnsinningen with purpose and duty, even though the lord of Wahnsinningen was never an ambitious individual. At least not until the low born bastard Stibor von Orselm inherited the Electorship.
And thus our story begins…
