The Quiet Promise of Dawn the 3am wakeup call

 The Quiet Promise of Dawn

There is a profound silence to the early morning hours, a stillness that blankets the world before the first hints of dawn. It's a time when the city sleeps, its cacophony of horns and chatter replaced by the gentle hum of refrigerators and the distant chirping of crickets. The air is cool and crisp, holding the lingering chill of the night. This is the time when the world feels like it belongs to you alone, a private audience with the coming day. It's a liminal space, a pause between the chaotic rush of yesterday and the unknown possibilities of tomorrow.

The transition from night to morning is not a sudden flip of a switch but a gradual, deliberate unfolding. The first signs are subtle: a faint luminescence on the eastern horizon, a deep indigo that slowly gives way to shades of violet and rose. As the light intensifies, the world begins to take shape. Trees emerge from the shadows, their branches silhouetted against the brightening sky. The dew on the grass glistens like a million tiny diamonds, and the mist begins to curl and dissipate, revealing the familiar contours of the landscape. It's a quiet, beautiful spectacle, a daily miracle that we often take for granted.

For many, the morning is a time for ritual and reflection. It’s the perfect moment to sip a hot cup of coffee, its steam rising in the cool air, and simply sit with your thoughts. It’s a chance to set intentions for the day, to visualize goals, and to find a sense of peace before the demands of work and life take over. The morning is a clean slate, a fresh start. It’s an opportunity to correct the missteps of the previous day and to embrace new opportunities with a renewed sense of purpose.

But the morning is not just a time for solitude. It's also a time of reawakening and energy. For some, like those who answer a 3 AM wake-up call, the morning starts long before dawn. While others are sleeping, you're up, chasing your dreams. There's something powerful about starting your day before the sun even thinks about rising. This early wake-up call is a reminder that discipline is the bridge between your goals and your accomplishments. What you do in these early hours sets the tone for the rest of your day. So, whether you grab a coffee, hit the gym, or dive into your work, every silent, early-morning minute counts.

3 AM Wake-Up Call: A Devotional from the Quiet Hours

Scripture: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble." - Psalm 46:1

The clock reads 3 AM. The world is still asleep, shrouded in darkness. For most, this hour is reserved for dreams, but for you, it's a time of quiet solitude, a time to be awake while others are at rest. In these silent moments, when you might feel alone, remember the words of the Psalmist: "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."

Why are you awake at this hour? Perhaps it’s a moment of clarity, a sense of purpose that pulls you from your sleep to work, to create, or to pray. Or maybe it’s a moment of quiet struggle—a worry, a burden, or a challenge that keeps your mind from finding rest. No matter the reason, this early hour is an invitation to lean into a divine truth.

When the world feels chaotic and loud, this quiet darkness is a time to remember your refuge. God is your shelter, a fortress in the night. The stillness of 3 AM is not an empty void, but a sacred space where you can feel His presence most intimately. He is your strength, the power that sustains you when your own feels depleted. He is not a distant, removed help, but a "very present" help—He is with you right now, in this moment, in this silent hour.

Take a deep breath and feel the cool air. Acknowledge what brought you to this moment. Then, surrender it to Him. Whether you are up with a purpose or up with a burden, you are not alone. He is your constant companion, a sturdy foundation in a shaking world. So, as the fans blow on you in Shreveport, and you sip your coffee in the quiet dark, know that you are wrapped in a warmth that goes far beyond the steam in your mug—the warmth of a divine love that is your ever-present help.

Prayer: Heavenly Father, thank you for being my refuge and strength. Thank you for being with me in these quiet hours before dawn. Help me to use this time to connect with you, to find my purpose in you, and to feel your presence. Amen.

Ultimately, the morning is a powerful metaphor for hope. It reminds us that no matter how dark the night, the sun will always rise. It promises renewal, not just for the world around us, but for ourselves. The morning hours offer a chance to reset, recharge, and step forward with determination. Whether you are up to tackle a challenge or simply to enjoy the quiet beauty of the dawn, the morning holds a unique and powerful promise: the promise of a brand new day, full of endless potential.

I am now blogging with hot coffee and a warm heart and fans blowing on me because of how hot it's getting here in Shreveport, Lousanna.

Yours for now Captain Hedges 

The Day the Rim Burned: A Personal Account of Loss and Fury

June 26, 1990 - A Day Forged in Fire 

The air was thick and heavy, not just with the oppressive heat of June 1990, but with an unspoken dread. Payson was baking at 106°F, and up on the Mogollon Rim, where my hunting cabin nestled into the pines, the dry, drought-stricken forest felt like a powder keg waiting for a spark. This wasn't just any cabin. It was a legacy, built by my great-grandfather Reban Hedges and his son, my grandfather G.C. (George Clinton) Hedges, who was born on June 26, 1909. They constructed it around 1921, 

the same year Zane Grey built his famous cabin nearby, while they were working on new road constructions in the area. It overlooked the very "Call of the Canyon" Zane Grey wrote about, and it had been their hunting base along the Mogollon Rim.

I grew up with that cabin. As a kid, my grandparents would take me on camping and hunting trips, introducing me to its quiet magic. After graduating high school on June 5, 1989, I made a bold move. I packed up and moved out there, away from everything and everyone, to be alone with my high school sweetheart. We made that cabin our own retreat, a sanctuary where our new life together began. It was more than wood and stone; it was generations of memories, whispered conversations, the scent of pine and adventure, and the very foundation of my adult life.

Then came the lightning. It was a dry storm, the kind that ignites rather than quenches, and by the afternoon of June 25th, smoke plumes were rising under the Rim. My heart sank. I watched from a distance as the fire grew with terrifying speed, an angry orange glow against the darkening sky. Sleep was impossible. By early morning on June 26th, the fire was a monstrous 1,900 acres, roaring towards Bonita Creek Estates, and, I knew, my cabin.

I packed what I could, what little mattered beyond my own skin, but I couldn't just leave. Not the cabin my family built, not this forest that held so many of my memories. I grabbed what meager tools I had – a shovel, a few buckets – a futile gesture against such a force, but a necessary one for my soul. The air was now a suffocating blend of smoke and ash, the heat radiating in waves, even at a distance. I fought, I really did. I tried to create a fire break, to beat back the encroaching flames, my lungs burning with every labored breath, my eyes streaming.

But the fire was an entity, not just a hazard. It moved with a terrifying intelligence, driven by the bizarre, collapsing thunderstorm it had created. Winds shifted erratically, downbursts sending walls of flame leaping across canyons, spotting fires miles ahead. I saw it consume trees in explosive bursts, the sound a horrific roar that swallowed all other noise. Wildlife, disoriented and terrified, ran blindly, some consumed by the inferno. The horror of witnessing that, of knowing what it meant for creatures who called this place home, is etched into my memory.

The moment came when I knew it was hopeless. The heat was unbearable, the smoke blinding. I was forced to retreat, the fire's roar a personal lament for all I was losing – a home, a legacy, a piece of my history. But I couldn't just leave. I had to do something. So I joined the burgeoning chaos of the fire crews, a civilian among professionals, driven by a primal need to fight back, to lend a hand, however small, against the destruction.

That day will forever live in infamy for me. I worked alongside the fire crews, a grim determination in my gut. I remember the sheer exhaustion, the grit of ash between my teeth, the taste of fear and adrenaline. I remember the faces of those brave firefighters, some young, some seasoned, all pushing beyond human limits. The communication was breaking down, the command structure shifting, adding another layer of terror to an already desperate situation. We were fighting a beast, and it was taking lives.

The news of the Perryville crew, lost in Walk Moore Canyon, tore through us like a fresh gust of the fire itself. They had arrived on the fireline around 7:30 PM on June 25th and were working on improving indirect firelines in Walk Moore Canyon by 2:30 AM on June 26th. Then, around 2:15 PM, the fire made a significant, deadly run. Eleven crewmembers were cut off; they deployed their fire shelters, but tragically, six of them perished: Sandra Bachman, Joseph Chacon, Alex Contreras, James Denney, James Ellis, and Curtis Springfield. Five others suffered burn injuries but survived. Their sacrifice later became a catalyst for the widespread adoption of LCES (Lookouts, Communications, Escape Routes, Safety Zones) principles in wildland firefighting, emphasizing that such a tragedy should never be repeated. It was a stark, brutal reminder of the stakes.

Here is a picture of June 26, 1990, the day the Mogollon Rim burned

The day I lost the cabin my great-grandfather and grandfather built, the place that became my first home as a married man, my sanctuary. The day I witnessed nature's raw, destructive power, and the profound, humbling courage of those who stand against it. A piece of me burned with that forest, a scar etched deep, a perpetual reminder of profound loss and the fierce, enduring spirit of survival.

Yours For Now Captain Hedges

Thursday Morning Reflection: The Echo of Lost Worlds June 26, 2025

 

Good morning. As the light filters in this Thursday, my thoughts drift back to a profound emptiness that settled over me long ago – a time when it felt as though "everything and everyone" slipped through my grasp. It wasn't just a single event, though one searing day certainly stands as its stark monument. It was a gradual erosion, a relentless tide of goodbyes, a seismic shift that left the landscape of my life irrevocably changed.

It's June 26, 2025. Thirty-five years to the day. And once again, Arizona is burning.

The news reports fill the screen, the familiar reds and oranges on the fire maps, the stories of evacuations, the photos of smoke plumes reaching into the sky. The Oak Ridge Fire, growing on the Navajo Nation, forcing families from their homes. The Bridge Creek Fire, sparked by lightning, consuming thousands of acres near Navajo Mountain. Even the memory of the Greer Fire from last month still lingers. Each headline, each image, is a cruel echo, a vivid re-ignition of a profound loss I experienced on this very day, back in 1990.

Here is an image of fires currently burning on Navajo mountain in Arizona in 2025 with more flames:

Today, those memories are sharper than ever. I see the firefighters on the news, their faces grimed with ash, pushing through exhaustion, and my heart aches for them. I see the families evacuating, carrying what little they can, and I know their fear, their uncertainty, their profound sense of dislocation. I think of the animals, the deer and the bears and the countless smaller creatures, losing their homes, their lives, in the relentless march of the flames.

Thirty-five years later, the lessons of the Dude Fire still resonate. The fragility of our forests, the increasing intensity of wildfire seasons, the bravery of those who stand on the front lines, and the devastating, long-lasting impact on communities and individuals. My cabin, a precious piece of my family's heritage and my personal history is gone, but the memories, the profound loss, and the empathy for all those currently enduring the same nightmare, remain.

This anniversary, stirred by the new fires burning across Arizona, is not just a personal remembrance. It's a somber acknowledgment of a cyclical tragedy, a reminder that the wildlands we cherish are constantly under threat, and that the fight against fire, and the healing from its scars, continues, year after year. My thoughts are with everyone impacted by the current fires, and my hope is that the strength and resilience of Arizona will, once again, prevail.

Here's the link to You Tube on from Nov 7, 2016

This video tells the story of the 1990 Dude fire near Payson, Arizona. On June 26th six firefighters were entrapped and killed on this fire. At the time this was the largest wildfire in Arizona history. This video was produced by Phoenix News Channel 3.

 

I often speak of June 26, 1990, the day the Dude Fire swallowed my family's hunting cabin near the Mogollon Rim. I remember the smell of it, that cabin, the quiet solace it offered. I remember the desperate, futile fight, the searing heat, the choking smoke, the agonizing moment I had to turn and run as the fire swallowed everything I held dear in that place – a family legacy, a first home, a dream.

That cabin, built by my great-grandfather Ruban Hedges and my grandfather G.C. Hedges (George Clinton Hedges, who was born on this very day, June 26th, in 1909), was more than just a structure; it was a physical tether to generations, to childhood joys, to the very start of my married life with my high school sweetheart. 

They constructed it around 1921, the same year Zane Grey built his famous cabin nearby, while they were working on new road constructions in the area. 

Losing it wasn't just losing property; it was watching a piece of my heritage, my sanctuary, and my immediate future turn to ash. Yhe Dude Fire on June 26, 1990, engulfing a hunting cabin near the Mogollon Rim

But the profound loss I carry goes deeper. When the fire raged, it felt like the world itself was burning down. The raw power of it, the loss of wildlife, the unthinkable sacrifice of the Perryville crew – Sandra Bachman, Joseph Chacon, Alex Contreras, James Denney, James Ellis, and Curtis Springfield – it shook my sense of security, my understanding of order. In its wake, a different kind of void opened up.

"Everything" became a more abstract concept. It wasn't just the physical possessions gone in the blaze, but the very sense of stability, of belonging to a familiar world. The routines, the assumptions, the easy certainties of life before. They all felt consumed, leaving a strange, quiet desolation.

And "everyone"? That’s a harder truth to articulate, for it speaks to a series of heart-wrenching departures that followed. My beloved Grandfather G.C. Hedges passed on Christmas Day 1999. Then, my Grandmother in June of 2001. The deepest cut came in 2004, when I lost my wife to cancer. And just a year later, on his birthday, November 26th, 2005, we said goodbye to our precious 2-year-old son. The ground beneath me continued to crumble as my father left us on June 9th, 2009, and my mother on September 26th, 2011, just after her 73rd birthday on September 17th.

Each loss, a separate mountain of grief, piled one upon the other. It's not necessarily that these incredible people vanished from my life because of the fire, but rather that the fire was the first tremor in a long, devastating earthquake of loss that continued for over two decades. It created a chasm between my inner world and the outer one, changing my perspective and isolating me in a profound way. The comfortable familiarity of a social fabric that seemed, for a time, to unravel.

The weight of this cumulative grief, this continuous unraveling, has manifested profoundly within me. My diagnosis as a depressive with psychoses is the clinical truth of how this unending profound loss has etched itself into the very fabric of my being. It's an internal battle, fought in the quiet hours and sometimes in the stark light of day, a testament to the sheer magnitude of what the human spirit can endure when faced with such an overwhelming cascade of goodbyes.

It's the feeling of standing on a new, barren plain, looking back at a vibrant, green valley that no longer exists, and knowing you are fundamentally different because you walked through the flames and endured the subsequent storms.

Mornings like this, I reflect on how those experiences shaped me. The journey through such all-encompassing loss is a solitary one, even when surrounded by others. It teaches resilience, yes, but also a deep, often quiet, understanding of life's fragility. The landscapes of our past, both physical and emotional, can be utterly transformed. And sometimes, when "everything and everyone" is gone, what remains is the stark, beautiful truth of who you are, standing alone, ready to rebuild, even if the foundations are now just ash and memory.

Yours for Now Captain Hedges

Good morning, everyone, and welcome to our first Thursday Reflections.

Good morning, everyone, and welcome to our first Thursday Reflections.

Here from the front porch in Shreveport, the morning air feels especially peaceful after the flurry of activity a few hours ago. The aroma of coffee and sausage has faded, but the warmth of a shared meal lingers in my heart. This morning, getting up at 5:30 AM to make breakfast for Uncle Bill, Uncle Jerry, Robert, and Rob wasn't a chore—it was a privilege. Watching them gather around the table, a cup of hot coffee in hand, was a beautiful reminder of the simple blessings we find in everyday fellowship.

It's in these moments, gathered with the people we care about, that we see God's grace and provision in its purest form. A full table, a full belly, and a heart full of gratitude.

A Word to Reflect On

This morning’s quiet reflection brought a particular scripture to mind:

"Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man! For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things."

— Psalm 107:8-9 "Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man! For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things."

This passage perfectly captures the feeling of satisfaction—not just from the food on our plates, but from the love and connection that fills our souls. It’s a powerful reminder that our blessings are not just grand events, but the daily provision and simple acts of sharing with one another.

Conclusion

As you go about your day, I'd love to hear from you. What is a simple, everyday moment that has made you feel satisfied or filled with gratitude recently?

Share your thoughts in the comments below. We look forward to hearing from you and will be back with another reflection next Thursday.

CAPTAIN HEDGES Important Announcement: Taking a Break for Adventure!

 

Important Announcement: Taking a Break for Adventure!

Hello wonderful readers,
Just wanted to give you a quick heads-up that I won't be around to join you in the comments or post new content tomorrow, Thursday, June 26th.
I'm embarking on an exciting adventure cruise aboard The Forerunner! I'm really looking forward to the journey and discovering what new experiences await.
While I'm away, please keep the conversations going on our latest Thursday Morning Greetings post. I'll be eager to catch up on all your thoughts and comments as soon as I return.
See you back here soon with stories to tell!

Yours for now Captain Hedges

Thursday Morning Rewind - June 26th, 2025: Whispers from the Longest Day

 

Thursday Morning Rewind - June 26th, 2025: Whispers from the Longest Day

(The familiar 1970s news theme music of NLC 6 plays, perhaps with an eerie undertone.)

ANNOUNCER: From the heart of Nocturnis, it's Thursday Morning Rewind. Chet Hardington and Brenda Starr delve into the week's events, as the lingering energies of the summer solstice settle upon our valley.

(Chet and Brenda are at the news desk. Brenda looks a little more contemplative than usual.)

CHET: Good morning, Nocturnis. We find ourselves just a few days past the summer solstice, that longest day of the year. And Brenda, it seems the valley has been more… active than usual in its wake.

BRENDA: (Nodding slowly) Indeed, Chet. "The Height of Unease," as we call this time of year, seems to be living up to its name. We've received several reports of strange occurrences linked directly to the solstice. Old Man Tiber, down by the Whisperwind Caves, claims he saw ancient markings on the rock face glow with an inner light for precisely five minutes at dawn on the 21st.

CHET: Fascinating, or perhaps, unsettling. And there were those odd reports from the outskirts of town, weren't there? People hearing faint, almost rhythmic humming sounds emanating from the deep woods, particularly after sunset.

BRENDA: Precisely, Chet. One resident, a Mrs. Gable, described it as "the earth itself breathing." And that's not to mention the unusual bloom of certain nocturnal flora in areas they've never been seen before, particularly around forgotten standing stones. It certainly lends credence to the old tales of the solstice awakening… ancient forces within the valley.

CHET: (Shudders slightly) Well, let's hope those forces are more curious than malevolent. On a slightly lighter note, the Nocturnis Pie Bake-Off submissions are officially closed, and the competition is looking fierce this year. We'll have a sneak peek at some of the more… unconventional entries next week.

BRENDA: I'm certainly looking forward to that, Chet. Perhaps they'll contain fewer glowing ingredients than the rocks Old Man Tiber saw.

(The segment continues with other local news, perhaps a weather report of unusually warm nights.)

BRENDA: That's our look back at the week here in Nocturnis, as the long days bring their own brand of strangeness.

CHET: Join us again next Thursday for more of Thursday Morning Rewind. Until then, stay vigilant, Nocturnis.

(The theme music fades out, leaving a lingering, mysterious echo.)

For the Love of Arthur: Soloing the Great Pendragon Campaign with the Du Plain Family

King Arthur Pendragon has always been more than just a game to me; it's a genuine gaming masterpiece. I've poured countless hours into roleplaying games throughout my life, and Pendragon holds such a special place because it perfectly combines two of my greatest passions: medieval history and mythology, all wrapped up in the timeless Arthurian legend. It's truly inspiring to me how much of this game, from its design to its rich background, was the singular vision of its creator, Greg Stafford. He managed to share his passion in such a meaningful way, and that's something I deeply admire.

I'm incredibly excited to announce a new journey for this blog: I'm diving headfirst into a solo playthrough of the 5th Edition Great Pendragon Campaign (GPC)! This edition, which was republished in 2005 by White Wolf Games under its ArtHaus imprint, is truly a monumental work. Greg Stafford himself expressed immense gratitude for the opportunity to create and publish this "massive tome," which serves as a guide for an entire 85-year campaign, stretching from before Arthur's conception to after his death. It’s a generational saga, and the perfect canvas for the kind of deep, personal story I want to tell.

Starting Early: The King Uther Period Expansion (480 AD)

While the GPC usually kicks off in 485 AD, I'm choosing to start my campaign even earlier, in the pivotal year of 480 AD, using The King Uther Period Expansion. This allows me to immerse myself fully in the initial, tumultuous years of Uther's reign, right from his ascension as King of Logres. This expansion is invaluable, offering crucial clarifications and updates to the original GPC (1st Edition) timeline.

Here are some of the key details from this expansion that will shape our campaign:

Court Locations: Easter and Christmas Courts aren't fixed; I'll decide their locations based on what makes sense for the narrative, or roll on Table G.

Key Ages Revised: Uther (b. 436), Prince Madoc (b. 459 – who is newly knighted in 480 AD!), and Duke Gorlois (b. 438) all have updated birth years, giving us a clearer picture of their maturity and roles.

Sir Brastias's Early Loyalty: From 480-490 AD, he's actually Duke Gorlois's captain, not Uther's. He only joins Uther's household in 491 AD after a pardon, becoming his captain then. So, Uther's early captain will be Sir Belleus.

Summerland: This region officially becomes part of Uther's kingdom in 482 AD.

Duke of Caercolun is Lucius: It's fascinating to learn that the "Duke of Caercolun" is actually young Lucius (b. 478), who is the heir to the Duke of the Saxon Shore title. Sir Marvis de Revel is his custodian from 483 AD. Tragically, both Sir Marvis and young Lucius die in a Saxon ambush in 486 AD.

Saxon Leadership: The East Saxon King who establishes his kingdom is Æscwine (not Aethelswith), and his son is Sledd (not Aescwine).

Syagrius's Arrival: The King of the Franks, Syagrius, comes to Uther's court in spring 487 AD, which makes perfect sense as Soissons falls in late 486 AD.

Uther's Illness: His later illness in 493 AD might stem from a grievous wound suffered in a duel against Sir Argan, or other mystical causes.

Duke Eldol's Heirs: In Glevum, it's his grandson Heli and great-grandson Chaleins who feud over the inheritance after Eldol's death in 494 AD. This internal strife keeps them out of the Battle of St. Albans and continues into the Anarchy.

Gorlois's Titles: He is also recognized as the Sheriff of Tintagel, in addition to his Dukedom.

Reduced Counts: The overall number of counts (earls) in Britain is reduced.

Why Solo The Great Pendragon Campaign?

For me, solo roleplaying is the ultimate way to dive deep into a game like Pendragon. It allows for complete immersion, focusing intensely on character development and the unfolding narrative without needing to coordinate a group. I can really take my time with decisions, get lost in the lore, and truly embody the struggles and triumphs of my chosen family.

This means embracing the core themes of Pendragon: the rise and fall of chivalry, the ever-changing landscape of Britain, and the personal glory and tragedy that defines a knight's service to his king.

Introducing Sir Ector Du Plain of Salisbury

My journey begins not with a grand castle, but with something far more humble: Du Plain Manor. This isn't some pre-built stronghold; it's a simple, unfortified medieval manor house located in the southeastern part of Salisbury County, right on the border with Hampshire. I even modified a map to mark its precise location:

Sir Ector Du Plain: The Knight (Starting 480 AD)

Let me introduce you to our protagonist, the first lord of Du Plain: Sir Ector Du Plain. He's a single, newly-made knight at the dawn of Uther's reign, tasked with overseeing his modest manor.

Here are his stats, reflecting his impressive capabilities forged during his squire years:

Homeland: Salisbury

Culture: Cymric (Logres)

Religious Outlook: Christian (Orthodox)

Family Estate: Du Plain Manor, Salisbury

Basic Stats

STR: 18

CON: 21

DEX: 10

SIZ: 18

INT: 12

CHA: 17

HP: 39

Healing Rate: 2

Damage Bonus (DB): +2

Movement: 6 yards/turn (unarmored)

Derived Stats

Glory (Initial): 1,000

Chivalry: 1

Total RP: 1

Passions

Honor: 15

Love (Family): 10

Loyalty (Liege: Count Roderick of Salisbury): 12

Loyalty (Logres): 8

Pious: 16

Valour: 12

Personality Traits (Sorted with Opposing Traits)

Chaste: 16 / Lustful: 4

Conscientious: 8 / Lazy: 12

Curious: 8 (No standard opposite)

Energetic: 14 / Lazy: 6

Forgiving: 10 / Vengeful: 10

Generous: 10 / Selfish: 10

Hateful (Heathens): 14 / Tolerant: 6

Honest: 10 / Deceitful: 10

Hospitality: 8 / Unsociable: 12

Just: 10 / Arbitrary: 10

Modest: 10 / Proud: 10

Prudent: 10 / Reckless: 10

Temperate: 10 / Temperamental: 10

Trusting: 10 / Suspicious: 10

Military & Combat Skills

Battle: 10

Brawling: 10

Bow: 5

Great Sword: 20 (Specifically for hacking down heathens!)

Lance: 20

Large Shield: 20

Ride: 25

Siege: 10

Spear: 10

Sword: 15

Tourney: 10

Warfare: 10

Other Skills

Awareness: 10

Boating: 5

Compose: 5

Courtly Love: 5

Courtesy: 15

Customize: 5

Dance: 5

Faerie Lore: 5

Falconry: 5

First Aid: 5

Flirting: 5

Folk Lore: 5

Gaming: 5

Heraldry: 10

Hunting: 10

Intrigue: 5

Orate: 5

Play: 5

Read (Latin): 5

Recognize: 10

Religion (Christian): 10

Sing: 5

Speak (Cymric): 15

Speak (Latin): 10

Speak (Romance): 5

Spotting: 10

Stewardship: 15

Swimming: 5

Equipment

Weapon: Lance, Great Sword, Large Shield, Spear

Armor: Mail Hauberk (6 AP), Coif, Helmet

Horse: Warhorse (Unbarded)

Miscellaneous: Good quality clothing, saddlebag, traveling gear, a few shillings.

Du Plain Manor: The Starting Point (480 AD)

My vision for Du Plain Manor, drawing on The Pendragon Book of the Manor, is that it starts as a basic, unfortified estate. It has the essentials, but nothing more:

Manor House: A simple, timber-framed Great Hall.

Stables: For his mounts.

Barn/Granary: For storing the manor's produce.

Outbuildings: Including a separate kitchen and basic servant quarters.

Chapel (Small): A simple wooden structure for worship.

Well: A basic water source.

Agricultural Lands: The fields and pastures that provide sustenance and income.

Village: A small community of 100-150 tenant farmers and laborers who work the land.

Defenses: Crucially, there are NONE of the purchasable fortifications like a palisade, moat, or watchtowers. It's completely exposed.

Manor Personnel: A few loyal housecarls (5-8 armed retainers), a reeve, a priest, and other basic staff.

Starting Funds: A meager 0 Librae. Any income from previous years has gone directly into upkeep.

This initial setup means Sir Ector's immediate challenge will be to survive and, hopefully, to begin fortifying his home.

Sir Ector's Personal Goals

Beyond the survival of his manor, Sir Ector has a specific, driving quest: to find a magical blade that can help him in his relentless fight against heathens. This will be a long-term arc, influencing his decisions and adventures.

And as for his skills, a mid-term objective is to push his Battle, Siege, Sword (general), and Spear skills up to 20 through earned Experience Points, making him a true master of war.

So, the stage is truly set for Sir Ector Du Plain's epic saga. I'm ready to begin his story in 480 AD.

Now, let's see how far we get!

Yours for now Captain Hedges As Sir Ector Du Plain.