Corus

[Mithros]

The year 200 has drawn to a close. The joy of royal betrothal was gifted doubly, only to be tainted by the Carthaki prince’s indifference towards the country of his bride. Fire ravaged the city’s Court of the Rogue, leaving a testy organization whose anger has been cooled only with the coming of winter snows. A poor harvest and the act of thieves made for a hungry midwinter season, and the war, announced just after midwinter’s close, promises only to drain the depleted storehouses further.

The city of Corus is not the friendliest of places at the moment. With the Rogue still irked at the Provost’s inability to catch the arsonist who destroyed its court—and the lives of many of its members—and the common citizens made hungry by the king’s failure to provide for them as he has in past years, tensions are higher than anyone would like. It seems to some that the gods have turned their backs on the city, and are leaving the Tortallan people to make their own way through the unpleasantness—and the harsh winter weather. It is only a matter of time before the attitudes within the city heat up, melting even the coldest of ice storms.

The orders have gone out, and it’s time for war! Tortall’s finest knights and soldiers are wintering in the desert as the country wages war against Barzun over territorial lines. Between harsh conditions for those on the battlefield and an utter lack of men for the court ladies, much of the nobility is completely oblivious to the strife within Corus’ streets. With the war showing no signs of progression, however, the Council of Lords is left wondering if such a fight is truly a good use of resources—and men. As is often the way, however, the true action is occurring behind closed doors, where subtle manipulation, secret affairs, and plots of murder are all carried out in soft whispers amongst some of the court’s most notable figures.

It may not be the happiest of homes, but we’ll still march home to
CORUS