Victory! A small one to be sure, yet a victory none the less for it. As perhaps you are aware, this Barony has of late been challenged by the arrival of an Ogre of the most Unseelie sort - this Troll names himself Northarm, a Baron of his own proclomation, a villain of the most disreputable sort.

He has come to this Barony, he has claimed in the past, seeking a Child. His manner is dark, and his words likewise. One servant he has acquired here, another arrived with him. One nocker, one redcap. Both as dark as Winter's kiss.

This Northarm arrives, I have discovered, from the Central Forests of this Kingdom, bearing ill will and dark deeds. Rumour abounds from even his own servants that he has Murdered another kithain, 'though no proof has yet been offered.

Dark he has come to this Barony, and dark his deeds here - laying a challenge before this Barony for its Throne. The Baroness Angharad ap Liam was not present for his Challenge, and yet he issued it against the Commoners of her demesne. His challenge this: A Unicorn of once-bright eye was carried bodily by Northarm's Nocker Slave wounded and bleeding into Caer Angharad. Should this 'Baron' Northarm Hunt the Unicorn before the setting of Imbolc's sun, he should win, and Angharad's people should Lose.

This Challenge was met with one of my own. A Holding long-forgotten had been dis-Covered by my Squire, lost beneath the waters of a local Tarn. This Hold would stand as prize, a Tourney would be held on Imbolc Day. All were welcome to enter.

The second victory yet - Northarm's Pawns stood first and second amongst the Lists: his Redcap, Lady, be noted is strong in arm and wit. Both combat and riddles were taken by him alone. Quick of mind, the nightmare Hunger denied his prize, unwilling to Swear. The Nocker however was not so swift, and Greed tricked him.

This servant of Northarm, this Servant of Winter willing Swore before the moon and stars, that he should serve me in this: to Guard that Hold and this Barony against all threat, and hold it Dear to his Heart, 'til the Stars Drop from the Skies. He bore Oath before me, Lady, and so he is yours.

Last victory of three - this Northarm styles himself a Dark One, and yet is careful ever with his actions. No more! In thoughtless deed he has placed himself in My Demesne! He has forgotten the Right of Ignorance, and betaken himself to Enchant and Terrorize a human mortal, in the presence even of Kithain Witnesses.

Where the theft of a Child does not fall within my Realm, this, Lady, does so. With this, I may discover what threat he poses to this Barony and Beyond, to even your Kingdom as a Whole, and thus Act.

Three Victories make One. His Challenge lost, his Servant Mine, and the Escheat forsaken. The fires of Imbolc burn brightly here this year, and Winter's grasp on the Heart is Broken.

As ever, at your command,
- Halfdan ap Kinrowan ap Dougal, Knight of the Queen's Own, in Her Majesty's Secret Service.