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The Lost Stars ChronicleChapter 19: Departure From Drullen Bell
Dractor soon ran into Bjarn, who was trying on different types of cold weather clothing. The Forestmen leader seemed to have settled for a large woolly brown cloak, think tan pantaloons, three layers of the same type of tunic, padded deer hide gloves, and to top it off, a large floppy hat that looked like a cross between a bonnet and the type of brim helmets that Western Knights Kingdomers wore.
Seeing Sir Dractor's raised eyebrows, Bjarn said, “I may look like a fool, but I’m warm as megablocks...in fact...too warm...I need to take this lot off before I cook.”
“Can you even draw a sword with all those layers?” smirked Sir Dractor.
Bjarn seemed to turn away, but suddenly Bjarn’s old and beaten saber was drawn and clanged against the knight’s upraised broadsword. Bjarn grinned and re-sheathed his saber.
“I may not be as fast as some outlanders, but this old body still has some life in it.”
He turned and eyed Sir Dractor’s suit of armor.
“You surely are going to change into something else?”
“Why? I never battle without my armor.”
“Have you ever tried trudging through snow in seventy pounds of metal?”
Sir Dractor laughed. “Bjarn, before I sailed south to Dametreos, I had to deal with snow almost as bad as this every winter. I am well prepared for the struggle ahead.”
Anardan was glad that he was chosen for the quest. He could not go out in the snowstorm to get his own gear and settle the affairs with his Forestmen command, but he arranged for a messenger to be sent to his outpost during the next lull, to tell his Forestmen where he was.
The armorers and suppliers of Drullen Bell Keep were more than willing to outfit him with any gear he needed for the journey. Back in the chamber he slept in, he laid out his supplies on the low table. A chainmail shirt and triangular shield bearing the crest of the Forestmen had been given to him at the Armory. He would have preferred his own armor, but what of it he still had was back in his chamber at the outpost. He had brought his sword with him when he rode into the Keep, and of that he was glad. He could not imagine using any other weapon. He dug in his saddle-bag and pulled out a green wool tunic, and he pulled it on over the chainmail. He had let one suit rust before, and he didn't intend to do it again. His belt was old and worn, but it served its purpose, and he liked it. His sword was the standard Forestman affair, a medium-length steel blade with tapered edges and a black pommel.
He slid it back into its scabbard and hung it from the belt, thinking, There may be some things on this journey that the likes of you will offer no defense against.
He pulled his travel-worn brown cloak over his shoulders, picked up his haversack and sleeping roll, and shut the door behind him as he left the room. In one of the lower halls, he met Reno lugging several sacks of traveling food. Anardan offered to help, and took one.
“These are for the trip?”
Reno shifted the position of one of the sacks on his shoulder, then said, “Yep. Heavy food t’ keep you warm. Literally heavy.”
He grunted and shifted a sack again.
Heavy now, Anardan mused, But I’m sure we’ll wish them this heavy again before we find the Temple Of Lost Stars.
As they began to load a sled with the food, they met Bjarn and Sir Dractor.
“Where did you get that sled, Captain?” queried Bjarn, removing his headgear and fanning himself with it.
“I built it myself, sir.” explained Anardan, “It’s light enough to be pulled by two or three men, but study enough to carry a large amount of supplies.”
“Good work, Captain. I certainly didn’t look forward to carrying all my food on my back.” Bjarn complimented.
“Thank you, sir.”
As Dractor stepped forward to help with an especially cumbersome bundle, Bjarn asked Reno, “Any progress on the Temple?”
“Absolutely none.” Reno snorted, “There wasn’t a hint of it’s location in the Forestdweller Archives.”
“Well...Daner will help us when the time is right.” replied Bjarn simply.
“Sir, then where will we head?” asked Anardan, “It is not wise to head into a snowstorm unprepared and with a destination.”
“We should head to the Yellow Castle.” replied Bjarn, “Dametreos’ most ancient and magical archives are stored there. If they didn’t hold any information, nothing would.”
Sir Dractor groaned comically. “Just when I had seen that great block of yellow bricks for the last time…”
Luxus and Aros approached, laughing. Both of them were bundled up, but Luxus looked like an overstuffed chicken with his five layers and two scarves.
“Now that Aros is my bruther ‘e worries ‘bout me too much!” complained Luxus.
Aros merely chuckled. The six of them continued to pack the sled until Anardan said, “That's enough. Anymore and she’ll stick in the drifts. Even now it looks like it will take four men to haul her.”
“A pity this blasted snow messes up my control of the Mana.” murmured Voolmark who had just joined them, also wrapped up, “I could make the whole load feather light.”
“Then it would blow away in the gales.” smiled Bjarn.
He paused, then said, “Where’s Shainya? We’re about ready to go…”
“I think she’s sparring with Radjar.” replied Sir Dractor.
Reno, Aros and Bjarn raised their eyebrows. Just then Shainya entered, glowing happily, her short sword in her sheath. Behind her, Radjar trailed, along with an amused Rosa and stoic Gonderin.
“Shainya kicked the megablocks out of Radjar.” giggled Rosa, “He was trying to be soft and gentle, but Shainya wouldn’t let him!”
Radjar went red.
“I think he also was trying to impress me.” confided Rosa, giggling even more.
Radjar harrumphed and approached Bjarn.
“Lord Bjarn of the Forestmen,” he said formally, “I wish you success on you mission, for all of us.”
“Thank you, King Radjar Kath of the Dark Forest. You are welcome to stay in Drullen Bell Keep as long as needed until Hemlock can be rebuilt.”
Gonderin approached and nodded respectfully.
“I will see to everything, my Lord.” he said crisply, “I do not believe in luck, but many others do, so I give it to you nonetheless.”
“Thank you, Gonderin.”
Bjarn looked around at Reno and Aros, with the Twin Pendants firmly secured around their necks, Luxus, wide-eye with eagerness, Shainya, standing next to Reno with her arm slipped within his, Sir Dractor, head to foot in metal and looking ready for everything, Captain Anardan, his hand on the sled checking the ropes, and Voolmark, his white staff gleaming and cloak tucked warmly around him.
“All right, let’s get going.” ordered Bjarn, “The sooner we go, the sooner we can come back.”
Rosa and Radjar pulling open the great oak doors, allowing the fellowship out and the cold winter air in. Quickly Sir Dractor, Captain Anardan, Reno and Aros grabbed ropes tied to the sled and began pulling it through the slushy snow while Bjarn and Voolmark pushed forward and Shainya and Luxus trailed behind, slipping the ruts dug by the sled.
As the door shut, Radjar murmured, “I swear, Bjarn was always raking at me about my wandering abroad, but now he turns around and does it himself.”
“He’s doing it for the good of his kingdom, and of Dametreos...you only wanted to go kill people…” Rosa replied smoothly, latching the door.
Radjar was about to erupt when Rosa slipped her arm into his and said, “I’m kidding, you buffoon. Besides...this storm isn’t too bad...it gives us time to be together…”
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