Opening post by Ser Bonifer Hasty · #1
i spent nearly a decade in Oldhaven’s great library tracing the failed harvest of ’88, and the record never gave me a clean culprit. One ledger blames late frost; another marks empty granaries before the first snow. I still remember the page where the ink ran from damp...
my family’s lands paid for that uncertainty. By the first whispers of autumn, people were already counting sacks instead of sheaves, and winter finished what the fields had begun. I have walked those boundary stones since taking my keep, knowing every one stood over a hungry year...
read the old accounts before you call a famine a footnote. The digs keep turning up new evidence, but no shard can tell me why the lords waited. That silence is the part that still haunts me...