Manthwyn Rynald

Captain of Arken Hold's City Watch.


Manthwyn Rynald is strong, reliable and a loyal King’s man. He maintains law and order in Arken’s Hold despite the troubles it endures.

Manthwyn adjusted his helmet, leaned on a nearby crenellation and sighed. He stared onto the rolling plains south of Arken’s Hold. To the east and west ran the length of Arken’s Wall, a fortification standing tall and stretching between the mountain ranges on both sides of the Hold. Behind him, to the north lay the equally well fortified city of Arken’s Hold itself, smoke rose from its chimneys and spiraled into the sky, but he did not look at it. He had stared enough at that prison, yes a prison is what it had become, and wished to view the plains denied them by this accursed barrier.

In the name of the gods, why had the King done this! He was a King’s man to the end, but he could not understand why the King would seal his people inside the city like this. The King had spoken about an impending enemy attack, but in the weeks since the Sealing they had seen neither hair nor hide of any creature capable of attacking a chicken, much less Arken’s Hold!

His revery was suddenly interrupted by the presence of a young watch officer.

“Varder”, yes that was the boy’s name, “What is it?” he barked in a gruff voice.

“Sir, there’s rioting again down in Vagabond’s lane, it’s small, but we thought you would want to give it your personal attention.”

“Hah! Of course I do, get me a carriage out front”

“Already done sir!”

“Good lad.”

As the carriage rattled along the cobbelstone streets Manthwyn once again fell into thought. The food riots were becoming increasingly common as the weeks passed. It was not the lack of food that caused the riots, at least, not yet, but the threat of a lack of food. The city had enough food for a few months if rationed properly, and would have more if the nobles didn’t insist on witholding their private grain supplies and selling it at ludicrous prices. The situation would have been worse if the city’s aqueducts didn’t continue to provide a fresh supply of water, and if the dwarven brewery, after some pressure from the watch, disclosed the fact that they had many years supply of alcohol stored in caverns dug out from the Undercity.

Thinking of alcohol, he withdrew the flask he kept on his belt and took a swig. He’d been doing that more often recently, too often he knew, but if it gave him what he needed to get through this, who could blame him?

Manthwyn Rynald

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