Squire

Squire is the term given to the lowly squire of the young Duke Florian. Though born with the name Poe he is commonly referred to as simply "Squire" or "Servent". Squire Poe's destiny in this new land will be forged over the course of this page.

Early life
''Squire was born a peasant of a small village on another continent, born to nothing destined for nothing. Then one day Duke Florian rode through his village and stopped for supplies. Not having the supplies, the young peasant quickly created the supplies needed with his small workshop and the raw materials of the village. Perhaps it was pity, perhaps the Duke saw something in his eyes, but whatever the case Duke Florian asked the peasant to accompany him on his many royal quests as a servant. After a few months of hard labour, organizing everything and cooking the many meals needed for a Duke of Florians stature, the peasant was dubbed Squire of the Carroways.''

Journey
''After an uprising in the Duke’s home nation, Squire accompanied Florian on a ship far off into the waters of mystery and unknown. Anywhere but there would do, but this journey was not much better. Within a month the advisors, not used to a life in exile, ate far more portions than Squire had laid out for them and before long were fighting over the remaining stocks. Before things could boil over a storm had brewed in the background. Overtaken by the chaos none had prepared to brace it and with the oversight, this journey was doomed. Waves crashed against the hull, masts not properly tied down flung into the horizon, taking the directed course way out of line. The ship capsized and with it the crew, drifting amongst the waves, grasping any piece of solid objects they could, until they hit land. Along the shoreline the scattered people reconveined and set up a small campsite in this foreign land, directionless and stranded Duke Florian decided to call this new crash site home and ventured out into this new continent to forge a new beginning amongst his friends and family.''

Parrots and Plantations
''Not long after washing up on these strange shores we found an old ruin from some long dead civilization, likely the natives of these jungles that surround us here given the architecture is as wild and primitive as the land it sits upon. Well since they're certainly not going to use it, we may as well. Still though abandon, the duke and the others seem to think theyre being watched.''

''When exploring the shoreline we found trails leading into the jungle, There's signs but who knows what they say? Not I. After fishing up some food and a couple of hunting trips along the coast we got enough food to start thinking past basic survival. While the lord and others setup the camp I went out to explore the trails, perhaps they lead somewhere.''

''After a long trek through seemingly pointless trails I finally ran into something worth while, neighbors! A man by the name of Sir. Sniffle had been setting up a plantation to farm the local vegitation and ship it off coast. Luckily his dialect was close enough to ours I could pick up on the majority of what he said, what a relief. Mr. Sniffle had an odd greeting custom of feeding one of his "cookies" made on the island to a local parrot from the jungle. I was to feed one too, though little did I know these cookies are poisonous to the parrots and killed it in seconds! A little morbid but who am I to question the traditions of foreigners. We shared knowledge of each others positions in this land and departed on good terms, and so I returned to camp to inform m'lord of these great new findings.''

''Apon returning to our newly established camp I was greeted by a most unexpected development. While I was out greeting like minded foreigners, the Duke Florian and the others were in a tense confrontation with a local from the jungle. I immediately drew my sword and rished to m'lord's aid. Duke Florian in his wisdom urged me to sheath my blade and take a diplomatic approach, we quickly learned that this local man spoke some strange dialect we couldnt make heads or tales of. Some words seemed to make sense while others baffled even Duke Florian. When I mentioned there were other foreigners on the island the Duke's eyes lit up, as if my simple observation was some piece to a puzzle he had been working on for days. "Quick Squire go to the plantation and ask them for help with dialect, they've been here longer so they must know something, and with haste!".''

''I rushed to the plantation begging for help, Mr. Sniffle gave me a book with a handful of translated words for us to work with, alas! Just what we needed. Though the book didn't give every word spoken it was enough to make out that this native wanted to know if we were friends to the birds here, specifically the parrots. An odd request but since it seemed to matter so much to this angry man we told him we had no quarrel with the parrots andthat we would leave them be. The Local Native seemed to understand us in our own tongue regardless of not speaking it, an odd observation indeed.''

''Content with our answer he told us we may stay, though he seemed to be uneasy with our presence, constantly watching our camp from the trees and skulking about our camp, keeping at a distance. However over time we invited him closer, giving him some of our food and even allowing him to take rest in our tent as he fell asleep at our campfire. This man, though vastly different from us and an enigma of a culture, grew on us becoming something of a friend.''

''A few days later I showed our artisan, Alfred, to the plantation where we were met with conundrum I had forgotten about, the greeting custom. Mr. Sniffle demanded Alfred feed a cookie to the parrot, though hearing it was poisonous and agreeing to leave the parrots be, Alfred found himself at a crossroads, offend 1 culture or the other. Given that to the plantation it was offencive and to the native it was an act of war, we chose not to feedthe parrot a cookie. Mr. Sniffles was furious, drew his blade and struck down the parrot himself. At that moment the native man, silently watching from the trees descended from the vines bow in hand and stood, just as furious as if ready to come to blows with the plantation, only to break out in tears and fall to the side of the fallen bird. seeing that we have found ourselves in a sticky diplomatic situation we feared for the future of our peaceful intent.''

Departure to distant gales
''We came to the decision this land was not any more serene than the mess we sailed from and decided to build small boats and taking only essentials to find a new home on seperate shores. We left our tents to make room for food and such and set out unto the waves and gales. We passed an old castle atop a hill and figred that land taken and sailed on. However as we sailed forth unto the gales wew found them blow ever so more agressively against our boats, as if pushing us away from the sea, or mayhaps pulling us.''

''We were helpless against such winds and were brought to the shores of the castle we passed by. Quickly we traveled up to the gates to make our peaceful intent known, only to find no guard manning its defence. As we peered out over the countryside we saw villages, mines and roads all abandon. As if we were alone on this island. This deserted kingdom would do nicely, populated by vast herds of horses and farm animals, overgrown farms still ripe with a fresh harvest and the facilities to rebuild our kingdom greater than before, this land is a perfect haven for the Carroway title. Still abandon or not we felt a constant presence, as if we were never alone here, almost whispers on the wind from some distant voice, probably paranoia though.''