“Arius the Vagrant, Arius the Despoiler, Arius the Terrible, even Arius the Rake,” a villainous man certain to deserve such a variety of condemnation hurled from high and low, a pirate of no small notoriety with a fleet massive enough to more than worry coastal settlements both great and small. On the other hand, elsewhere, in other climes chattering from the tongues of distant throngs he’s whispered heroic “Arius the Great, Arius the Magnificent, even Arius the Conqueror,” a long-time veteran, bitter exponent, and even savior of the Perihelion. A complicated man, no doubt, and a man enveloped in a quagmire of myth and wild mistestimony, absent as he is an honest biographer. To that end I will stick to the facts and dispel wild rumor, whether through the testimony of my own eyes or from the words of the man himself or his many lieutenants and companions. What happened and what didn’t, these are objective experiences, facts blindingly clear under the great auspices of everlasting Brassos, high in the sky. What follows is the accidental saga of Arius, the feller of the seven cities, the pirate lord of the Vorago Intervention, the endless seas that separate the sacred space of Middle Kingdom, Manfall, from the warring states of the West and the East and bestial kingdoms of the North and South; what succeeds are the tales of the man who ruled the far flung minor kingdoms, the disparate pirate cavalcades, a monstrous fleet beyond contempt. I was honored as stripling to be taken into his fold as a midshipman, and I’m honored in my developing age to chronicle for posterity his countless deeds—much against his dying wishes I might add. What follows here is the true reckoning of the man as he was and the honest recitation of his performances as they were genuinely.
Major Cantor Thrasymedes