![]() ![]() ![]() Over the years, all the Knights of our little band either gave up or passed on, all but one: my father Jaren. My father was part of a group that settled here in Cyrodiil and built Battlehorn Castle as a refuge while they waited for Lord Kain's message. After a failed battle to dethrone Baron Shrike of Lainlyn, our leader, Lord Kain, ordered us to split up into as many small groups as possible until the time should come that he would recall us. Battlehorn Castle was built by a remnant of the Knights of the True Horn who were exiled from our homeland of Lainlyn in Hammerfell. To the new lord of Battlehorn Castle, whoever you are, know that you inherit a stronghold with a proud tradition. I will entrust this document to my last faithful retainers, with instructions to destroy it in the last extremity, although I accept that I may have provided the means for my murderers to legally take the lordship of Battlehorn Castle. "Besieged" I say, although this petty battle would not have even rated a footnote in the great days of the Knights of the True Horn. ![]() I pen this while Battlehorn Castle lies besieged by a band of ruthless marauders, with little hope that any of us will survive. I resort to such measures out of desperation. Such an unusual document requires some explanation. I, Lord Kelvyn, son of Jaren, and a sworn Knight of the True Horn, upon my death do hereby bequeath Battlehorn Castle and all her lands, dependents, and chattels to the bearer of this document.
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