12.7 Black-walled Thakria, city of miracles.

Let slip the dogs of war, for indeed war was upon Avalon again.
Thunder crashed and rolled upon the heavens, drowning out the call of
hunting horns across the plains. The Thakrians stood firm against all
resistance.

For an intrepid team were they. Their tactile, mental and spiritual
prowess all boosted by the alchemical compounds granted them by the
Loremasters, they were indeed hall heroes against the Mercinaen
resistance. The keen and swift blade of the scarlet-clad Cavalier
proved a deadly combination with the hideous demons controlled by the
silent, black-robed Sorcerer. Many quialed before the venemous
spittle and dextrous knife-wielding of the anarchic Thieves that
flitted to and fro. And all the while, fire and damning curses were
rained down upon their enemies, enacted by the mysterious Seers who
sat in safety many leagues away.

And when all was said and done, they stood victorious, and left the
battlefield, leaving only a bitter scent of brimstone in the air that
vanished with gentle zephyrs.

For heroes many were the Thakrians. Their successes came from the
power and solidarity that binds society together deep behind the
obsidian walls of their city. Indeed, where else in Avalon could any
place lay the same claims to glory as Thakria, the City of Miracles?

The Barony of Thakria is as follows: