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[Jeren Yendorin]

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The whispers of the ocean winds carried the horseman's cloak. His tattered clothes held epic tales that only he could share. An audience didn't await his return, but an old house stood still on the edge of the sea. Jeren's silent arrival is all he wanted it to be. The comfort of his home finally allowed Jeren to rest easy. Unfortunately, his journey to seek the heritage of his biological parents fell short. No more looking over his shoulder at the shadows, curious to what the days ride will bring...everything; peaceful.

As the days carried forward, restless wasn't the word that could begin to explain everything he would have to catch up on. Jeren left behind friends without goodbyes that he knew would require courage and some humility if he were to ever find a place amongst them. The choice to fade away in the middle of the night many years ago was hard enough...returning will have even more challenges. Leaving the Order of Sanctus, selling his former ranch, The Warrior Sanctum was extremely sad.

Getting back to his feet as the leader and knight is not from teachings from old mentors long gone, but due to the rigid, weathered experience of years travelled witnessing the horrors life can bring. The outland areas greedy territorial obsessions were even worse than Jeren could even imagine. Villages laid to waste...even worse men and women living under such rulership; without hope...without guidance! Jeren's call was clear. Fate had led him short seeking his past, but after four empty bottles of ink and three journals later it was obvious that this journey was meant to open his eyes. And as such, he laid the ink pen down and his last words fluid as never before...without thought...."Always stand for justice, for peace, and for the virtues....For Glory, Majesty, Unity"