Unlikely Heroes of Fallcrest
History of Brindol
This is an excerpt from one of Astinus the Chronicler’s Histories of Brindol:
In the seven hundred and ninety-third year of our Nerathan Empire (may the gods smile upon her!), Quince Markelhay became Governor of Brindol. Commerce was strong, and Brindol was a shining example of prosperity. Governor Markelhay reinforced the city walls and built the South Bridge to ease traffic into and out of the city. It was also at this time that Lady Rowena of the Daventry family became betrothed to Guenther Thistlebaum. Much fuss was made concerning their coming nuptials, and a festival was planned to coincide with that year’s harvest. The city looked marvelous, and many dignitaries came from places throughout the empire…
The first signs of trouble began in the eight hundred and sixth year of our beloved Nerathan Empire (may the gods smile upon her!). The harvest that year was truly terrible, and people looked to Governor Markelhay for relief. Within a few months, rumors began circulating of dark deeds happening within Brindol’s Keep. Governor Markelhay had brought in a new magician named Flagg to act as his chief advisor. Flagg wore voluminous black robes, and there seemed to always be a perpetual chill about him. Many of the townspeople felt uneasy at his presence, but it was seen as the governor’s business.
Governor Markelhay’s wife delivered a dead child that winter, and the city was in mourning seven days. The following spring, a healthier yield of crops could be seen growing in the fields, and optimism returned to Brindol. However, that was also the beginning of the sickness.
Ronson Brookchild was found ill one morning. The lad claimed that he had been bitten by an animal while playing in the alleys with some friends the night before. It was too dark for him to catch a look at the beast, and the children were too afraid to investigate further. But the next day, he had a raging fever. Two days after that, he was dead. He was buried that same day.
He was the first. Many more would follow. When we finally realized that an undead plague was upon us, many people had become infected. The Brindol troops made every effort to annihilate the threat, but the plague continued to spread. Flagg was considered to be the only person who could help provide a cure, and many sought his help. But every potion he provided failed to help. In fact, many began to suspect that his remedies were helping spread the pandemic. During this time, it was revealed that the Lady Markelhay was with child once more.
By the fall of the eight hundred and eighth year of the Nerathan Empire (may the gods smile upon her!), Nerathan troops came to Brindol. We assumed they came to offer aid, but instead, they tore down our bridges and built heavier defenses outside our walls. They were trapping us inside. Riots broke out in the city, and a mob gathered at the keep, demanding justice. One of the leaders of the mob was a man named Rathskild Birdstone. He claimed to be a servant for Governor Markelhay, and he told the crowd that he had witnessed Governor Markelhay swearing eternal allegiance to Flagg if the magician could help him produce an heir. It was this man’s belief that the current plague was the price of that commitment.
This, though possibly false, was enough to spur the crowd to a point of no return. They overpowered the remaining guards and fought their way into the keep. Governor Markelhay and his family were nowhere to be found. Nor was Flagg. Most believed that the governor and his family escaped Brindol with the help of the mage. Some believe they had gone into hiding somewhere within the walls of the city. To this day, in the late winter of the eight hundred and ninth year of the Nerathan Empire (may the gods smile upon her!), no one knows.
Our beloved city is now at its end, I fear. I and a few fellow citizens have taken shelter in my home, but the dead wait for us. They search for a way inside. I don’t know if others still survive elsewhere in the city, but my heart breaks for Brindol, shining city of light! And I fear that this may be the last chapter of its history, may the gods prove me wrong!