Bregan Frith

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Type: Company Convert to Household

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Description: Bregan Frith began in the far reaches of Tal Dagore in what used to be known as the Shire of Stonewood Dale. At the time, the small band of mercenary friends called themselves Beowulf after the great conqueror of the horrid beast Grendel. After their defeat at the Battle of Midreign in 2003 at the hands of their arch nemesis, the group fell to pieces and was scattered throughout the kingdom. \r\n\r\nMany years later, long after Stonewood Dale fell into ruin. The shadow of Beowulf began to grow. Eventually the original members came together again to raise a new outpost from the ashes of Stonewood Dale, which is now the thriving Freehold of Direbrook. \r\n\r\nThe Name Bregan Frith was selected by the great god R.A. Salvatore himself (yes, seriously, via Facebook), and reflects the heritage of the primarily drow company. Though the company is not strictly drow, many drow number its ranks.\r\n\r\n\r\nWhile the inner working of the loose-weave mercenary band is shrouded in mystery, the organization of the group appears to be based on battle skill and popularity rather than seniority, like many fighting companies. \r\n\r\nIn its current iteration, Bregan Frith consists of 10 members between the Barony of the Knoblands and the Shire of Direbrook. The current leader, or “Jabbuk”, is known only as Scythis. One of the original 5 members, Scythis is a flamboyant figure with a taste for intrigue, stealth, betrayal and wine...lots of wine. Scythis is also the current Baron of the Knoblands. The second in command, the “Abbil”, is a devious, murderous pale-skinned dark elf known as Sermerus. Sermerus resides in the Barony of the Knoblands and serves as the Baron’s personal wizard bodyguard. \r\n\r\n“Bregan Frith? It means never having to apologize for seeking power. Realizing that this world is ripe for the taking. No one else can do what we do.” -Lox

History: Great the day, the flags were flown Ripe the morning sun, it shone Every bear and bee at play Not a man was turned away Day of midreign, joy unleashed Ever fatter grew the beasts Last the days events, a feast Merry men grew drunk that eve Underhand, a poisoned breath Some treachery hidden up a sleeve To underestimate was death Defeated, the shadow shrunk away In time, it will return one day Every bee, their colors gay, shall find their dues still must they pay

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