Deicolorii Intro1

Giemarli plucked a grape from his vines, holding it up to the sunlight to examine it’s dark skin.  He smiled, popping the small fruit into his mouth.  Perfect.  It would be a good wine season this year.  He made his way along the row of bushes, expertly laid down by his great-grandfather so long ago.  Rather than the traditional rows that his contemporaries on other islands were fond of, Giemarli’s vines were shaped into low baskets, the grapes protected from the wind and sun on the inside.  Being an outer island brought strong wind and little rain to the small vineyard. But harsh conditions were no match for human ingenuity.

The harsh conditions bred small but strong tasting fruit, making a wine that was prized all throughout the islands of Deicolorii.  Even the Siece, Lord of all the isles, enjoyed the deep red wine of Giemarli’s vineyard. Such success had made his Lord rich, and given Giemarli's ancestors the opportunity to expand their parcel of land, and to keep it in perpetuity. Only a handful of men in all the isles could claim such a privilege, fellow masters of their craft too valuable to stay confined in the standardised holdings. Giemarli could even collect taxes on his tenant farmers, men without his ability for viniculture that sat at his feet and carried out his methods without fully understanding.

The serenity was punctuated by the quiet ringing of a bell, pealing out from over the hill.  The single call was soon joined by others, a solo becoming a choir.  Giemarli paled, a contented shuffle becoming an arthritic hobble.  He could already see his boys rushing out to drag their doddering father into the safety of the villa. One was already hefting a large shield and pack, his eldest off to the war dock. But even family came before duty.