

Our Oath
House of Barred Rock
Our Legacy
The House of Barred Rock is one of the oldest and most honored families of Chickenopolis. Our lineage traces back to the founding days, when the land was still plagued by raccoon hordes and dark forests choked the fertile plains. It was our ancestors, broad of chest and steadfast of spirit, who stood beside the first Council of Feathers. Together they carved a realm from chaos and raised the shining walls of Chickenopolis.
The Founders’ Deed
It was Barred Rock wings that beat back the raccoon infestations, turning vermin-filled wilds into lush fields of corn and golden grain. With unflinching courage, they cleared the farmland that still sustains Chickenopolis today. Their legacy is etched not only in the stones of the capital but in the furrows of every plowed field.
A Proud Heritage
It was Barred Rock wings that beat back the raccoon infestations, turning vermin-filled wilds into lush fields of corn and golden grain. With unflinching courage, they cleared the farmland that still sustains Chickenopolis today. Their legacy is etched not only in the stones of the capital but in the furrows of every plowed field.
It was Barred Rock wings that beat back the raccoon infestations, turning vermin-filled wilds into lush fields of corn and golden grain. With unflinching courage, they cleared the farmland that still sustains Chickenopolis today. Their legacy is etched not only in the stones of the capital but in the furrows of every plowed field.
House of Barred Rock
Our Code of Arms



Hall of Heros


Marcus Titus de Babred Rock was not only a knight — he was a commander whose presence alone steadied armies. Born into the proud Babred Rock line, a family renowned for discipline and order, Marcus was trained from hatchlinghood in the arts of war and governance. Where others chased glory, he studied tactics; where others boasted, he observed in silence.
His greatest trial came during the Siege of Cluckspire, when fox legions surrounded the fortress and supplies ran thin. With calm resolve, Marcus formed the defenders into rotating cohorts, each holding the line while the others rested. Under his leadership, the chickens endured weeks of assault without breaking formation. When reinforcements finally arrived, the enemy found themselves facing not a broken flock, but an unyielding wall of steel and feathers.
For this, Marcus was hailed as the Shield of the Rock. His shield, emblazoned with the golden rooster of his house, became a rallying symbol of unity. To his soldiers, he was not just a commander but a father, dining with them in campfires, sharing hardships, and carrying the same scars.
Even in peace, Marcus wore his armor and cloak within the halls of Cluckspire — not as vanity, but as a reminder that vigilance preserves what valor has won. His name still echoes in the drills of cadets: “Stand as Titus stood — unbroken, unbowed.”

