Dispatch Intercepted by Kaedwyn Agents post delivery:
Salutations in the Highest,
Even with your request for informality, I find this difficult to deliver upon, but I will press forward. I am nothing if not tenacious. I thank you for the gracious offer you have given me even to this day.
Umberlyn, Sir, is the kind of back water town that you would expect to sprout up when the common folk are allowed to masquerade as nobles. It lacks any form of refinement or true beauty. Commerce and unity seem to be their highest priority, as the riffraff threaten the delicate equilibrium of this city at every turn.
The most Fenkish of the Tyrantine city-states, Umberlyn was nothing more than a squalid town of Fenkish rogues and Tyrantine outcasts. The “lords” or “Council Members” of the self-proclaimed Commune suffered countless exchanges of power that only solidified when Fenkland decided to have a bit of a squabble amongst the royal bloodline.
When the failed upstart Lord Garrek Rosenthal found his head on a spike in the hall of King Charles Rosenthal’s hall, his remaining followers and loyalists practically stumbled over each other fleeing south for sanctuary in the frontier territories of Tyrantium. In Umberlyn, the remnant took root, legitimizing the commune and ensuring that no bandit lord or marauder baron could claim ownership over the city again. What limited information remains of the city record claims this to be the golden age of Umberlyn and the surrounding area.
Over a decade ago, the Woodlanders saw to that in the only way Woodlanders know how to. After the neutered King Charles II bought off the horde, they marched south and razed Umberlyn to the ground. That golden age tarnished for Umberlyn, just as it did for Dorothea, Levois, and Verrain as well. But, when the Woodlanders got bored, they simply went home where the Dovgorod nobility continues to prune them to this day. As for those who fled the city, only the Artist knows. Fled to the wilderness, absorbed by neighboring villages and cities, who knows. They are gone, ash in the wind.
As for Umberlyn, it’s transitioned back to a feudal city-state with strong ties to Fenkland and, like most of the Tyrantine territories, all but ignores Tyrantium, the bloated carcass that it is. From what I’ve gathered while being here, the city has all but recovered from being razed and has a healthy economy built on furs, leather, wool, lumber, fishing, and farming. Like most of these barbarian cities, there’s also a strong interest in brewing here. The city remains fairly independent with minor trade with Dorothea and a healthy rivalry with Trennon. As for the Chevain influenced city-states, Umberlyn has next to nothing to do with them outside of the occasional tourney.
Like most of the Territory city-states, Umberlyn is more interested in survival than it is in development. Very little seems to change in these cities. They’re more concerned about bandit raids, religious fanatics on Holy Conquest, or keeping criminals and gangs in check. Were the Malonese to ever reach Umberlyn, the city would fall within a day. It’s defenders are sloppy and ill trained, but also corrupt to the core. The problem with Umberlyn and many of the Territory city-states is that holding it would be a nightmare. The city is fiercely loyal and independent, and not to mention that everyone here owns a blade the claim to sue for hunting. No one hunts in Umberlyn. This is a strange lie they all chuckle about.
As for the ruling party of Umberlyn, is it even worth mentioning? Assassination, civil unrest, a full blow coup, or the invasion of a more charming scoundrel will have this paunchy man out of his luxurious suite in a matter of months. I think his name is “Lord” William Bowring. I have seen him once, picking his teeth with his own “hunting” knife.
More to the reason for these dispatches, I can confirm nothing. The rumors I heard all claim that he is Fenkish, but I found no evidence of his bloodline or any bloodline that would hold him in Fenkland. This means that he has crafted a clever ruse to throw off spies, or he is from the Territories. I started my search in Umberlyn, but this place uses parchment and paper to light their pipes more than keep records.
If Henry Tanner is from Umberlyn, then I am worried. Umberlyn is a den of rogues and criminals with cunning minds and are no strangers to danger and outcasts. From all accounts, Henry seems to match these indicators, but that might simply be his extensive training. As you know, I have never encountered a more dangerous opponent and I have never once seen a man face someone as skilled as you down and walk away unscathed. No matter where he goes, I will continue the hunt.
And I swear to you, when we meet again, I will kill him.
In Your Esteemed Service,
Lady Gwenevere Morveau