Larcha

lar-kah

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Dawn clarions sang like clashing swords,
A warning battle-sound
When Larcha, with her Thousand horde
Came marching 'pon the down.

Mad Queen Larcha

In poems she is known as ALD CUTHLAINNE, the old butcher-princess. To the Valari, she is called "Mad Larcha", queen of the Wyldren, eater of hatchlings and ally of harpies, and other such fairytale nonsense. As usual, the stories have been embellished to keep little feet from wandering at night.

Truth be told, Larcha is hardly queen of a pile of dirt. For centuries it has been her ambition to unite the Wyldren beneath one banner, take back the land from the Valari, and avenge her grandfather, the last late Wyldren King.

The Valari aren't the only ones that think her mad. Her army, the "Thousand", could scarcely be said to live up to its name, consisting of a bare handful of bandits- less than a tenth of the people she would be queen over. Of the few that support her cause, even fewer are willing to pit themselves against the might of the Valari. Larcha's mettle may be fierce, but the oldest among her kind know all too well what becomes of an iron will upon the Brighthammer's anvil.

Burning with vengeance and wounded pride, Larcha and her Thousand stand resolute. Though little more than a child by comparison, she has sworn by blood and oath to see the Brighthammer overthrown and Val-ar-Aion returned to its rightful people.

"CRUITH AT SANCT!"


Her flaxen mane lay matted red;
Her maw bedecked with gore.
She stood amongst her Thousand dead
And took up arms no more.