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Dec 18th, 2018
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  1. Arthur was born in the bleak midwinter of 1056, the eldest child of Baron Edmund Dryden and Rowena Dryden, within their castle home of Dun-Brice. Immediately, as the eldest and heir to the Dryden dynasty, his life was consumed by daily tutoring and lessons, the moment he was able. Whilst his parents were loving and kind, they were not doting, and placed heavy importance on the capabilities of their child. He was taught the world, from Korenna, to The Heavenly Kingdom of Yeraq, he was to know it all, and know it well.
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  3. A few years after Arthur’s birth, did another child come. Osbeorn, was born. Arthur continued to work on his fundamentals, literacy, basic arithmetic and the geopolitical state of the world, but now he was old enough to begin physical training. And so he did, daily lessons with the Master-at-Arms of House Dryden, simple things to begin with, how to keep your ground when another shoves you, then eventually, how to win in all out brawl, something men of Aernlend were particularly gifted at.
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  5. As Arthur grew in age, so to did his range of teachings. The foundations were set, and now he was to develop, in the best way Aernlend knew how, as a warrior. Each day was taken by a storm of martial lessons, from riding horse, to spars with a variety of weaponry, and wrestling. And as a few more years passed, a third brother was born, Rutabega’s Character. Now at the age of sixteen, Arthur was met by a particular resounding drama within their usually placid mountain home. Many have speculated the cause, and none know the full truth, but what is known, is as such; on one particularly stormy evening, Arthur, in secrecy, gave up his right to inherit, and fled Dun-Brice, and Hearth proper. What he did during this time is the topic of much speculation, but a handful of years later, at the age of twenty-one, he emerged a Bannerette, from Morrick’s Academy.
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  7. Now a man, and one of quite some considerable station, Arthur had a decision to make. He could return home to Dun-Brice, or do something entirely of his own accord. There were many things he could do, join wars and fight under a Lord for fame and fortune, travel the world, partake in tournaments, slay foul creatures from days of yore and woo fair maidens. These were all fine, sound ideas. None of which appealed to him. It was the Mountain-Guard, then.
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  9. His start in the Guard was met with considerable hostility, as many of the soldiers were of lower birth, and convicts, forced to serve sentences in the mountains. Arthur persisted, for twenty long years did he persist, through love, loss, wound and war. He lead men, loved one, a few women, and killed a creature so hard to believe you’d think it the product of some maddened ravings. He was happy, for all it’s trials and tribulations, he was something, something he had built with the strength of his back and sheer will. But a punch to his gut came, when he was least expecting it. His younger brother, now Lord-Baron Osbeorn of Dun Brice, had passed away, taken by the clutches of ravenous illness. Leaving but a boy and his mother in his stead. What to do now? He thought. Had he been selfish? Did the name Arthur matter more to him than Dryden? He was too old to soldier like a younger man anyway. Perhaps it is time, to go home, and look after the name. Indeed. And so he did, enter, Arthur Dryden, to Hearth.
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