Jericho Armagh

From AmtWiki

Baron Squire Jericho Armagh, of Talonfield, Celestial Kingdom.

”Breathe in my Piratey goodness!”

”It's all right, Cap'n; we always knew you were a whoopsie...”

”When beggars die, there are no comets seen, but upon the death of princes, the Heavens themselves blaze forth.”

”There are some stories anyone can tell. For everything else, there's Master Bard.”



Jericho is a founder and first Baron of Talonfield, as well as the current Baron. He has been playing for about 14 years, in Talonfield and Tirana "many freaking moons ago".

Affiliated Groups

Jericho is the Lord of House Red Dragon.
Saracen, Tribe Latrocene

Belted Family

Squired to Sir Greylin

Notable Accomplishments

Additional Photographic Evidence

Corrupting the youth of Amtgard one filk at a time.

On the right, beside his bit--, er, First Mate, Rhonin.

In Memoria

Jericho.gif Jerichotombstone.jpg

The night was already creeping toward the door of the small hogan. As the door of the sacred shelter was eastward facing, it was the first to see the creeping tide of evening. Inside, Jericho sat, facing the small fire of cedarwood and oak gathered from the woods between Clovermast Abbey and Wolf Lodge. He watched as the dancing firelight played across the symbols in the sand floor.

He lifted his everpresent red cedar flute to play an offering to the Great Spirit as was his tradition when Sitting Circle. He found, however, that he simply could not bring it to his lips. He could not bear the weight of emotion the music would bring.

He touched the kiowa to his heart instead, and then lay it before him in the sand. He closed his eyes, sought his Center, and spoke.

”Great Spirit,” he said,"this small spirit, Your servant, comes to you now with a weary heart. You have carried my mother, Mia Philiht, back to Your Great Lodge. You released her from the suffering her illness brought to her, making her whole again in spirit. And for this mercy, my father Abbot Mican, my people, and I give thanks.

”You brought me back, renewed from death and flame, to again serve the people of Talonfield, and stand by them through the Darklord's occupancy a Turn ago. And You saw Talonfield restored after flood and rebellion. Though her people are spread to the Four Winds, Talonfield is happy, and safe.

”So please forgive me, Great Spirit, for coming to you now, asking for a Blessing, when You have done so much for myself and my Homeland.”

Jericho felt his heart falter, but his years of clerical and monastic training kept him steady.

”Great Spirit... I have served as strongly as I could, for many years. My home has been destroyed and rebuilt more times than I can count, and I have been there all the while. But now, my strength wanes. Talonfield's farms and homes are mostly empty. Seren is lost to the Bay of Storms, her half-sister has fled, Mia is gone... Spirit, I have not the strength to do this again. My Faith does not falter, but my spirit does. I am tired, and I fear I do not have the strength to rise again to the call.”

His will finally caved. His body shook, his mind reeled, and thought turned to blinding blue noise in his head. Just before it overwhelmed him, he heard a Voice:

Jericho, hear Me.

The Voice rang clear, strong, and soft all at the same time. It stilled the rushing chaos in Jericho's labored mind, and soothed the fires in his heart.

It was the Voice of the Great Spirit.

He tried to speak, but could not find the words.. they wouldn't come...

You have served me well, Tearshedder... you have risen to every challenge I have called you to, and your devotion has never been shaken. You have been My hand, My sword, and My LightLord. Fear not, My child. Your rest, and reward, are due. Come, My son.

A portal of silvery blue light shone in place of the hearthfire at the center of the hogan. Silken warmth filled the air, replacing the humid heat of the flames. Jericho rose as Bidden, unable to think of anything but the call of Great Spirit. He stepped through, wordlessly, and went Home.

The portal closed with a flash, and a whisper of flute music. On the floor, in the now scattered pigments of the sand painting, lay the Mask of the Tearshedder. The sacred relic sank slowly into the blessed sand.

Rest, Tearshedder, until your Medicine is needed once more.

And on the wind that night, through all of the Barony of Talonfield, one word was heard, spoken in the voice of Jericho Armagh...


More Information

AKA: Merrowbone Redrum (Captain of the Tidedancer), Quisalas(Quiso) Aspartame, Haimish, St. Riptease, Donegal McTavish, Mykal MacFarland Grey, Mykal Graewulf

  • Orkicon2.gif