Classic-Castle Roleplay: March 2005

[TheOrk]

J-10 Yellow Castle
In the Yellow Castle the regular soldiers slept in thin long buildings. Many of the elite soldiers slept in a larger building that was a castle in it’s own right. It was with a squad of swordsmen that they threw Valric in. He didn’t mind bunking with them, they were all gritty front line soldiers, they were of the same breed as him.

It was a long rectangular room on the third floor, a dozen bunkbeds were on both sides, next to each solder’s bunk was a small chest and their armour and weaponry. The soldiers spent most of their free time mainting it. Only half of room was full, thanks to BloodVaine. Valric, after the little get together downstairs collasped in his bunk, it was on the bottom closest to the door.

He slept the night off rather well. That morning in the mess hall there were no end to volenteers. Even if they didn’t most would still probley be forced to go. The body count of innocents in the morgue was piling up at an alarming rate.

Over forty men were arrayed in the courtyard. Valric knew they wouldn’t need so many men. He had a feeling in his gut that when he was in the sewer again the “Ghoul of Orion”(As the peasants called it) would seek him out.

Walking up to Valric was one of his “superiors” Sir Rillian. He was an old knight who had grown quite a pot belly.
“Vlaric? I’ve just returned from the morgue. Never in all my years have I seen so many, normal people there. The cutpurses and the wenches yes, but there are many upstanding citizens! I know you are a capable man, but situations change. I am taking command of this operation. Emperor Constantius has made it clear that this infestation ends today. The Wooden Duck knows he already has enough on his platter.”

Valric shrugged, he would have complained but Sir Rillian was one of the officers he actually respected.
“Yes sir.”

“Good man!” Rillian slapped him on the back.
“The sewers are small and narrow as you know. We’ll split up into four groups. That should be enough to deal with this threat.”

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Jerral shook hands with his first mate and then signaled to the undercover Bulls he had selected.

"Alright lads, let's be off..."

Grid: H-14
Location: The Black Knight city of Mar Tache

It had been four days since Jerral and his small band of Bull infiltrators had left Glondur, but they had already learned so much. First, it was confirmed almost immediately in an inn that Lord Barbod still lived, along with some of the Bulls that had left to aid the burnt-out Forestdwellers months and months ago. But what really bowled Jerral over was the discovery that there had been a giant world war that had decimated Dametreos.

"Wot??" Jerral gasped, spitting out flecks of a odd Black Knight brew, "A war?"

His fellow drinker and sharer of the same table looked at Jerral with raised brows. "That's right, a giant bloody war too. Where've ye been all these months? Don't tell me you 'aven't 'eard or 'aven't been affected by the megabloks BloodVaine and his cronies?"

"We've...er...been trading in in the distant land of Ikros the last six months...or more!" Jerral hastily made up, "We haven't heard nothing..."

"Ah..." the man took another swig, apparently accepting the lie, "Well, to cut a very bloom'in long story short, BloodVaine was defeated a few months back, after killing off a ton of people, including the old Emperor! That Falcon bloke died as well, XXVIII or summat like that...rumor 'as it the Black Falcons are falling into civil war now..."

Jerral’s head spun. Carefully, he slipped out some coins and passed them to the bartender, ordering more drinks for the both of them.

"Tell me, friend, could you start at the beginning...?"


Five hours later, Jerral's was left with only a third of the tale, a extremely drunken but very happy table companion and an empty purse. He turned in, and got the rest of the story of the BloodVaine Epic from fellow Bulls and inn clientele the next day. One last piece of information he got from a LEGOlander fresh from Orion particularly caught Jerral's attention.

"Legitimate? The Classic Emperor has declared the Bulls a legitimate faction?"

The woman nodded. "Aye, that's roight. Su'prised the tyco outta everyone, 'pecially the Falcons...certainly su'prized me... I thought the Bulls died of years ago..."

A common misconception. thought Jerral.

After paying for one last drink, he gathered his companions and had a short council. It was quickly agreed they would head north to Orion, weather permitting.

"From there," said Jerral, "We can get the most up-to-date and accurate information about Lord Barbod, our other fellow Bulls and the status of the Bull Kingdom."

----------------------------------------------

Grid: L-7
Location: Falconis City

Randolph was trudging through the snow returning from an unsuccessful attempt to find food when he nearly tripped over himself when he spotted at brawny man struggling through the snow, daringly wearing a Bull emblem on his chest. Randolph stumbled forward and gasped, "Are you a Bull?"

The man looked at Randolph, eyes flicking toward the black and white falcon emblem.

"Who...are you?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm a Black Falcon, but I am not against the Bulls. You are in great danger walking around here displaying your faction‘s emblem."

The man glowered defensively, "The Bulls are now a legitimate faction as ordered by the Classic Emperor himself. The time of cruel prosecution by others is over."

Randolph was now getting desperate.

"Sir, many here, while respecting the Classic Emperor, still do not follow all he orders. A Bull in the capital of the Black Falcons is still not safe, and won't be until the Black Falcon government is changed."

"Who are you?" asked the man again.

Randolph decided to take a gamble lay all his cards on the table, though he was risking the exposure of the Rebels.

"My name is Randolph, and I am a part of a secret society that is bent on overthrowing the current Black Falcon dictator. We, too, want freedom, and so are working will the Bulls covertly. Lord Barbod is even with us now.”

The man's eye lit up. "I am seeking Lord Barbod! I am Rulph Belricks, the official Bull Ambassador. I have urgent news from the Emperor. Can you take me to Lord Barbod?"

Randolph nodded frantically. "Yes, yes, but for Chodan's sake, cover your emblem!"

Rulph did so, and slowly they made their way to the Rebel Resistance headquarters.

"The smelly Ogre is gone, the Sorting is complete." Randolph uttered the password quickly as his entered and then called out, "This is Rulph Belricks, he is a Bull and has news for Lord Barbod."

The Lone Falcon, Freena, Vanderdious, Mayriz, Lord Barbod and Dordrot all appeared. The Bull King approached and broke into a grin at the sight of Rulph.

"Rulph! Bloody good to see you! You said you had news..."

Rulph bowed.

"Aye, my lord, I do." he said, and then told everything all that had occurred during the conference with the faction ambassadors and leaders, and the Classic Emperor.

[lemon_squeezer2]

Frederick scowled at the pathetic report the guard had made – he really should have done it himself. Still, the actual results were satisfactory. Martin was expected to be in the Long Rooms tonight. Agents had been following him, but even they had not been able to figure out what the general was plotting. He would have to be poisoned today. Besides, Durlass wanted a report in the week.


Later that evening, Randolph approached the Lone Falcon.
“I’ve been getting restless. I’ve thought it through, and I think it’s worth the risk. I’ll be going to the officer’s quarters. If all goes well, I can simply say I was wounded back near Orion and only got back just now.”
The Lone Falcon looked down, knitting his brow. “I will not hold you back. But what about the charge you led there against the Falcons?”
“Not many know I led it – only a few at the Yellow Castle and of course, my men. I could simply say I stayed with the army.”
“Do as you wish then. For goodness sake though, be careful.”
The cavalry commander smiled under his mustache. “I will”

[Formendacil]

Grid: H-21
Location: Anka Dolour harbour

"Bring them aboard," he said slowly. "I daren't risk it."

So much, he thought, for getting away from the Sorceror-king.

"Admiral Broadside, good to see you again," Quorandis hailed the privateer as he boarded the Bombardier, abandoning the yacht to its fate. Broadside squirmed a little. He really had no right to be called admiral in light of his reasons for sailing to Anka Dolour.

"What is going on?" asked Broadside.

"There's no time to explain," said Quorandis. "Get all of your men to battle stations. Stand by to repel boarders."

"You heard the man," shouted Broadside to the crew. "Archers to the port side, all men gather cutlasses. Trim the sails! I want to be able to make a run with her. Bill! Take five, and get out the ballista!"

"Ballista?" said Elbadar.

"I got her refit in Leidenheim," said Broadside proudly. "With a ballista."

"Doesn't that rock the ship too much?" asked Elwen.

"It's a small ballista, and the Bombardier's a big ship," said Broadside. "But yeah, it rocks 'er slightly, and certainly no ship smaller than a man o' war could handle one. Fer what it's worth, only the biggest ships o' the line in the Falcon or Crusader fleets boast them usually. And me. Trust me though, it's an 'uge advantage to be able to damage the enemy ship a little before you come alongside and fight 'em. Expensive as Megablox though..."

Quorandis looked down at the deck. A small ballista sat bolted to a revolving turntable. It was currently lashed into a position pointing it to the port side. He noted a pile of missiles laying beside it.

"Are they flammable?" he asked.

"Aye," said Broadside, "but since we're aiming below the waterline, there's not really any point to it."

"A missile that big won't make too large of a hole," said Quorandis. "You'd need one as big as the ultra-ballistas in Orion to truly take out a ship in one blow, and no vessel could ever hold a ballista that big. If you set your projectiles aflame, you could aim above the waterline, and hope to set it aflame."

"Aye, ye could," admitted Broadside, "but you'd only have fifty-fifty chance of setting it alight. One splash of the swab-water, or a shot in the wrong place, and you'd have shot for nothing. At least a hole below the waterline always starts to sink 'em. Those things take a while to reload. And in my line o' business, I prefer to keep 'em afloat long enough to get at their valuables."

"Maybe you could stop talking, and start paying attention," said Elbadar. "I think Kendo's junk is in range by now."

"Bill!" called Broadside. "We're gonna take a chance. On my command, set the missile alight, and aim 'er at the junk amidships. Mebbe if we c'n take Kendo out, we'll dissuade 'em from attacking further."

[lemon_squeezer2]

Grid: L-9
Location: Château de’ Lumburg

It had been four years now. Four years of decadence and decay, all under the eyes of a dying man. Richard IV was finally dying. Well, he was his brother, but still – he had done a miserable job as king. Now things could be set right.

Robert sat out in the main hallway. The door opposite him was the Richard’s bedchamber where he now slept in a coma. The heir apparent shook his head. For four years the treasury had dwindled as the nobility began to show signs of outward rebellion, taking the tax income for themselves. Only a few outwardly claimed they served the king, and even those could not be trusted.
And then there was the army, if you could call it that. With little pay and no training, many had deserted, roaming Dametreos as mercenaries. Even worse was the state of the navy. Fifteen years ago, piracy had all been eradicated by the Crusader navy which had once boasted magnificent ships of the line, armed with two decks of ballistas. Now most had been sold for scrap, and those that remained rotted at the wharf. Worst of all was the economy. Shortages of almost everything were rampant, and the unusually heavy winter only compounded the problem. To travel the roads at night was an invitation to be robbed, and last year renegade Falcons had even begun to burn villages. It was truly surprising that no one had tried to invade – even the Eastern Knight Kingdomer’s could have walked over them.

As the hours went by and morning turned to dusk, Robert continued to formulate his plans. Once king, things would be set right.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Willem pulled Graygon up and the joined Katherine at the hole. Without further ado, Katherine lit her staff and jumped into the hole. Graygon glanced at Willem.

"She's a strange one...powerful too."

"That's why I'm glad she's on our side." replied Willem before following the druid into the hole.

Grid: N-10
Location: Underground tunnel

The trio walked along in silence for over an hour, the only sound was the echoing of their footsteps and the constant dripping of water. Willem and Graygon, for one, were worried. The last time they had trudged through this tunnel they were going the opposite direction, fleeing vengeful Crusaders. The tunnel had also been a lot dryer, too. Reno's magical blast at both ends must have rattled the pilings to their core.

"We'd be in deep megabloks if this tunnel caved in..." muttered Graygon.

"You two would." corrected Katheryn.

What's that supposed to mean? Willem and Graygon thought at the same time.

At last they all ground to a halt, for they had come to the end of the tunnel. The last few paces the floor had sloped upward at an angle, until their head bumped against hard, wooden paneling.

"They must have built another building in place of the Broken Mast." groaned Willem, referring to the old inn that he, Graygon and some other friends had burnt down in their haste to escape nearly a year ago.

"Not a problem." replied Katheryn, and without further ado, she blasted the wood into splinters.

Shrieks were heard above them as the portion of the floor caved in, and all three of them were suddenly awash in alcohol.

"Perfect!" shouted Willem, trying to hold on, "You hit the liquor cabinet!"

Katheryn shrugged, and with another sweep of her staff she tossed the two Wolfpack members upward and into the inn, following herself with a magic-enhanced jump. Willem and Graygon landed on the bar with a thud, but quickly drew out their weapons in preparation for a fight. Crusader soldiers were beginning to move forward through the confusion, but Katheryn simply flicked everyone in the immediate vicinity with another wave. Bodies were thrown through the air and were crushed against walls or dashed through windows. Willem and Graygon flinched at the unneeded brutality; they would have been able to fight their way out without so much bloodshed. But the druid didn't leave them much of a choice. Katheryn calmed stepped over a groaning body and snapped, "Well, are you going to take advantage of this lull or not?"

Willem and Graygon glanced at one another, then darted outside. They made a sharp left, slipping in the snow, then raced past a row of tudor house before coming to a halt.

"I'm not sure I want Katheryn as company or not..." muttered Graygon, "We could have gotten out of there without all that destruction."

"Aye..." agreed Willem, "but I don't think it will be wise to confront her about that. Best not to make an enemy of her...hopefully she's just leave us..."

"We'll worry about that later...let's go..."

Denderham was not prosperous enough to have a sewer system, so Willem and Graygon simply had to dash along the narrow and slushy streets until they neared the city's western gate. It was heavily guarded.

"Megabloks!" Willem swore.

[Sir Drake]

Grid: N-9
Location: Citadel of the Fallen Three-Hundred

Fraun and the rest were allready arrived at the Citadel, it looked even more busier than the previous they were there. The Order was gathering all of the troops it had got, they wanted to take out the Flames' troops on the mainland before it they were reinforced by troops from Fell Isle.

Radjar, Fraun and Leonidas sat in their, waiting for Swift and Strider to arrive, HOPING they would arrive. In all the days and weeks they were together, they had formed quite a friendship. Suddenly, they all jumped up when they heard:
"Riders are comin', friendly troops are coming!!!" a guard yelled so loud, you could even hear it into the room were Fraun and the rest were in.
They quickly ran out of their room and walked to the main gate.

When they arrived there, it was indeed Swift, Strider and more soldiers whom arrived on their horse. They had rode all night and were exhausted and wounded from the fight.
"Quickly, take these men to the infermery" Leonidas ordered.

There, they stayed for the rest of the month. Swift was quite happy, since Aaylah visited him a lot of times since she was better.

"General Archidamus" Leonidas said "how are you?"
"Hmmm, General? Since when i'm a General?" Swift asked.
"Since the moment you've returned from your foolish backup fight" Leonidas smiled "oh, by the way, Androcles ordered you to go to him, probably new orders"
"Great, I'm just healed and he's allready giving me new orders"
Swift got out of his sickbed and cloaked himself with his black cloak and then went to the commander room.

"General Archidamus, Captain Leonidas and Lieutenant Strider, welcome" Androcles, the Supreme Commander said. Fraun, Aaylah and Radjar didn't come to the meeting since they weren't official Wolf Pack members.
"Greeting, milord" they replied.

In the middle of the room, there was a big oaken table with a giant map of Dametreos on it.
"These are our positions" Androcles said, pointing on black banners on the map.
"And these are the enemy positions" he continued, pointing at the red banners.
"As you can see, they've made a lot of progress during your illness, Lord Archidamus"
"Yes, so what? What do I have to do about it?"
"Well, we need you to travel to Vilnius(N-6), a ruined city on the southern front, it might be ruined, but it's a very strategical place, once the enemy controls that, they have breached our main line"
"So, you want me to go there?"
"Yes, go there, you can get two-hundred Immortals(name of an elite band) to aid the current troops stationed there"
"Aye, sir" Swift answered.
"Aye, sir" Leonidas followed.
"Aye" Strider added.

After this, they went to the others to tell the news.

[The Green Knight]

Location: The Gold Wallow Inn.

Biirn and Jos stared. Even the other man looked up. Suddenly Keavur appeared to come to his senses and rattled his large, silver pike-like spear officially.

"So...what type of demon is plaguing you?"

“It’s a sword.” Said Biirn. “A demonic sword with a taste fer murder. I ought to know’ course. It started right ‘ere in this inn you know. One minute it’s a normal Tuesday afternoon and the next there’s a sword swinging about through the air and impaling me customers. Killed one o’ them. I thought I’d heared the last o’ it when those tricksters scooped it up an’ ran off. Boy was I wrong!”

“Rumor has it,” said Keavur. “that there’s some manner of demon in the sewers as well. Do you think there’s any connection?”

Biirn shrugged. “Who’s te say? Would it make any difference?”

“I suppose not. So tell me, where is it now?”

“Well, I’ve heared rumors that it was last seen at the cathedral. No surprise either. Everyone says that place be ‘aunted. Ever since the war ended.

“Haunted? I thought you said we were dealing with demons?”

“Does it matter? Demons, ghosts, what’s the difference?”

Keavur raised an eyebrow at Biirn, as though he couldn’t believe that the man didn’t know. “I’m sorry. I suppose I should expect ignorance from the common people in this subject. Despite their similarities, there is a great difference between ‘unclean spirits’ and just ‘spirits’.”

A thud interrupted Keavur as the previously sobbing man, slipped off his stool and onto the floor: a victim of another kind of ‘spirits’.

“I don’t do ghosts.” Said Keavur, finishing.

“Well don’ worry.” said Biirn. “I’m fairly certain the sword was possessed.”

“It uh…It could be ghosts.” said Jos, interrupting.

“I thought you said you didn’t know anything about this, Jos.” said Biirn.

“Well, yes I…I guess I did say that didn’t I.” Jos didn’t want to draw attention to himself but at the same time he felt that Keavur should know what he was getting into. “Um what’s that thing around your neck.” Jos was trying to change the subject. It was a silver cross with a blue gem inset in the center.

“It was my bothers.” said Keavur. “The only thing left on the scorched ground where he died.”

There was a deadly silence. Jos looked down at the tavern floor.

“Well if that’s that I guess I’ll be going. Demons don’t die when hunters procrastinate.” Keavur stood and made for the door, the the silver cross around his neck glinting in the firelight.

Jos sat there for a moment after Keavur left, twiddling his thumbs nervously. “Well, I think I’ll head out for a bit of fresh air.” He said excusing himself. Jos practically ran for the door, but when he reached the street Keavur was nowhere in sight.

“Tyco! Where is he? Where did they say he was going? The cathedral.”

And Jos set out through the snow-covered streets for St Henry’s Cathedral.

[Barbapple]

"Aye, my lord, I do." he said, and then told everything all that had occurred during the conference with the faction ambassadors and leaders, and the Classic Emperor.

L-7
Falconis City

"No." Said Barbod, after hearing what the ambassator had to say.
"What?" Rulph asked, confused.
"It's not good enough." Said Barbod, angrily. "It's bad enough we have to hide who we are around here. And now there trying to pawn off two megablocks little islands on us? No. Unacceptibul....We want more."
"The emporor did his best- -" He was cut off.
"And who is he to say?" Barbod Yelled, "He knows not what we have gone threw. Megablocks. Not good enough at all...."
"They are very nice islands. They have little population, clean water and good ground to till." Rulph pleaded, hoping the bull lord would lower his temper.
"And if they are so nice why is noone on them." Barbod Snapped.
"Look, sir-"
"No! The bloody Falcons can have the islands! I want my land back!" Barbod was red with anger.
"Barbod, please, this is wonderful. We should just accept it peacalbly." He argued.
Barbod glared at him for a moment, then turned to leave in a huff.
"Where are you going, sir?" Rulph asked.
"I'm going to the pub." Said Barbod, removing his cloak and pickinng up his sheild. "And I'm tired of hiding. If they have a problem with a bull, they can take it up with me. Good day, Rulph!"
"...this is not good...." said the Lone Falcon, under his breath.

[Commander Redbeard]

Location: Forestman territory

The escape of Markus from the Forestman prison was reported within the hour by the guards, and a squad of trackers and soldiers, under the command of Forestman officer Elacil, was dispatched to re-capture him.

The trackers had no problem picking up the trail, for the horse which Markus had stolen was one of the Prison mounts, and, like all the others, it's iron horeshoes were embrossed with the prison seal. The trail was soon validated when one of the trackers found Markus's cast off Forestman attire by the side of the road.

The trail led the Forestman to the border town of Parcours, a small cluster of buildings by a river in a large forest clearing.

"What would that rogue want with this place?"
queried one of the trackers, staring about at the small buildings and the old stone inn by the riverside.

"Sport, I'd guess, if I know anything about him." answered Elacil.

"We caught him terrorizing another small villiage about two weeks ago when we brought him in. Seems like the jail's formidable hospitality didn't cool him off enough."

Spying a child practicing archery with a tiny bow by the roadside, Elacil hailed him.

"Hey, you!"

The kid jumped, his arrow sailing into the river as he spun around.

"What do you want?"

"Have you seen anyone, uh, strange about here lately?"

The kid looked around curiously, staring at the soldiers and trackers apprehensively.

"Um..Not really."

Elacil tried again. "Are there any newcomers about?"

"Well, yes. About an hour ago someone rode in from your direction. He asked where to sell his horse and threatened to decapitate me if I didn't tell quick enough."

Elacil looked around at the trackers, a disgusted expression on his face.

"I think that's the man."

[TheOrk]

J-10 Orion

Sir Valric looked around, he and his party were back in the sewers. Shuddering he remembered his last visit. He knew he was on the right track, he could feel it, it was out there,
The ten man group marched down a winding passage, they turned a corner and a strange site met their eyes.
An iron rusty door was against a far wall. Judging by the size of it, it was made for something as big as an ogre.
“I’ll go first.” Muttered Valric drawing his sword.
Just as Valric put his hand on the knob he heard a bloodcurdling scream, it came from the opposite side of the door. Shocked Valric nearly tore the door knob off. It was locked.
“Help you lazy sacks of megabloks! Somebody is getting’ murdered!”
Valric and several other burly men knocked the door clean off it’s hinges. The room wasn’t anything they expected. The sewers on the other side of the door were cold and dank. Here was what looked like a basement. A dozen long tables and chairs were scattered around the room, on the backwall was a crackling merry fire. Infront of that was the latest victim.
He lay face down in a pool of blood. Valric walked over to it and pushed it on it’s back with his foot. It was a monk. Scanning the scene in disgust Valric turned to the others.
“The thing is here alright. If he didn’t do that to that poor fellow then theres another sicko out here. Another scream came from down a an ajacent door.
The ten men ran over to it, they booted in and found themselves in a library. It was defenitly in this room, somewhere behind one of the bookshelves…

[lemon_squeezer2]

Jarl shuffled into the tavern. It was barely half-full – two men were sitting at the bar, and another eight at the tables – five of which were playing cards together. Walking up to the counter, he slapped down five marks, saying “The usual” as he did so. The barkeeper was bent over under the counter at the time, and at the sound of the man’s voice, he called up. “Sorry Jarl, we’re out of gin.”
The man frowned as the barkeeper stood up.
“What about a spot of beer?”
“We have some, but it will be ten marks”
“Ten marks! What about some whiskey?” Jarl sounded exasperated.
“We’re dry”
“Ale?” At this point he was almost half-yelling in a surprised manner.
“Now there’s something we have. How much?”
Jarl composed himself and grumbled “The usual”
The man laughed. “It’s about time you tried something different too.”

Just as Jarl was settling down, another customer came in. Immediately the conversation hushed. At the doorway, stood a man holding a Bull shield with a Bull emblem on his breast. All watched, eyebrows raised, as he walked to the bar. Before he spoke, the barkeeper interrupted rather curtly before he half slammed a glass on the counter. “Ale only. No two ways about it.”
The Bull put down two crowns and took the glass. Everyone fixed their eyes on him as he walked across the room and stopped next to Jarl.
“What the Megablocks are you all staring at?”
There was no reply from the astonished group and they went back to their business. Barbod do not however, notice one quickly get up and slip out the door.

[Dragoman]

Willensstark (shadow knight’s hidden stronghold)

Though there was much confidents in Theron’s abilities, there was also a lack of trust in his loyalty for he had just joined the cult and none truly knew where or who he severed before joining the Shadow knights. And for the Cult of Shadows this was unheard of, for they made it their oath to observe the happenings in this world and when need be, to manipulate it to achieve their goals.

Knowing of their distrust, Theron continued: “I know some of you think that I should not be trusted in this, and you have thought this justly, for you nether know my origins nor my true name. But isn’t it enough that I have gone through your trials, the same trials that which all of you have been subjected. Isn’t it enough that I have fulfilled every promise that I had made when I first presented them before all of you. And seeing now everything that I had said has been done, I now vow a new oath, an oath that will be just as true as the first. I vow that I will not return until it is done. I vow to you that if I should fail then let all manner of anguish befall me and may a slow excruciating death be my reward. But if still these words do not bring confidence then I would ask that you would bring me any trial that would deem me worthy.”

There was a brief pause before the head of the cult, (one who convened this gathering) began to speak and staring at Theron: “I see no need for any further testing. You have proven your loyalty many times within the short time you have been with us and there is no use in proving it again. Your words are honorable for you speak with the same conviction as I and so if none other then, I trust you.”

He then began to look at the other shadow lords and said with a stern voice: “Theron and Huor (which was the first man to volunteer) will get what ever they ask for in this quest. Let no shadow lord nor shadow knight deny them. Give them anything that could aid them and see not that they should come to harm for harm will then come to you.”

Then looking back at Theron he said: “you will get the men that you require. You may have free choice of whom will go with you for you above all know who are the most skilled and who’s would be most beneficial. But remember to choose well for our fait lays with you.”

After this he looked up and stated with a some what dispirited tone: “the meeting of the cult of shadows is ended, may you all go safely to your places of power.”

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"I'm going to the pub." Said Barbod, removing his cloak and pickinng up his sheild. "And I'm tired of hiding. If they have a problem with a bull, they can take it up with me. Good day, Rulph!"
"...this is not good...." said the Lone Falcon, under his breath.

"What are we going to do?" snapped Rulph.

"Let him go...let him cool down..." replied the Lone Falcon, falling into a chair, "Vanderdious, follow him. Keep him safe."

Vaderdious was out the door instantly.

Dordrot laughed harshly. "Do you know how stupid that sounds, keeping Barbod safe?"

The Lone Falcon eyed Dordrot. "Barbod may be a great warrior, but he cannot fight off the entire Black Falcon army."

"What are we going to do?" pressed Mayriz.

"We need to get out of Falconis City. Now."

"The entire Resistance?" gaped Freena.

"No." the Lone Falcon shook his head, "Only those who know of Lord Barbod. This place must be destoryed, as well." he ended, gesturing to the walls around them.

"Barbod is rash. We can not stay here with him putting us and our plans in jeopardy. The snows are reducing. We must head south, to Orion, where we will have the protection of the Emperor from Durlass' men, or anyone else who wants the Rebels and/or the Bulls squashed."

Vanderdious burst back through the door. "There's trouble!" he gasped.

EDITED TO FIX ERRORS

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Yes, it was time to be out of the army, it is time to go out on my own. thought Viktor.

It took a few days to pack up and leave his small tudor house in the hands of a close friend, but at last, on the seventh day of the first month of the year two thousand and five, Viktor Okzskcarouldghf, former captain in His Majesty’s Royal Army, withdrew an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back, notched it, and shot it into the sky. He did this as a he spun in a circle, using the age-old technique of simply letting the fates decide his path. Apparently the fates were against him. After the vertigo has ceased, Viktor’s face fell when he saw the arrow land in open sea with a plop. Viktor Okzskcarouldghf’s stomach, like many Easterners, didn’t agree with the sea.

Grid: M-11
Location: The Crusader port of Brunshire

Viktor was onshore at last! A whole month, an entire month he had spent on the hellspawn ship known as the White Lilly, traversing the watery mass of nausea known as the Spiral Bay. Now he was ashore, on firm ground, where Chodan had meant men to be.

"I'm not sure I like adventures." he remarked to one of his companions, a Western Knight's Kingdomer who were only go by Tim E.

"You'll get used to 'em." Tim E. quipped, his freckled face wrinkling into a grin, "Sailing is prob'ly the hardest part...there's all those blinkin' terms -- heave to, avast ye, two points to starboard, all that mumbo-jumbo. Plus yer always runnin' the risk of dashing her bottom to pieces...'specially with all this shipwrights doin' dumb things like not building with one-piece hulls. I mean, how dumb is that...?"

Tim E. began to ramble off, criticizing the lack of appreciation for what he called "structurally solid building components". Viktor had met Tim E. on board the White Lilly right after cast-off. The soon became fast friends, for they soon found out they were alike in many ways. They were both men who felt they were under-appreciated, they both had a strong dislike of the Classics, and they both had no stomach for water and all the ill-affects it caused. They spent many a day at the head, pale green, exchanging vignettes of their past. Tim E. was an architect who specialized in these types of building materials with a particular skill in producing large castle sections that were made out of a single block of stone. He claimed his methods were cost-saving, but many of the older factions like the Black Falcons and Classic LEGOlanders had rejected his claims and had continued making buildings brick by brick. Tim E. was popular, however, in the many southern mainland factions such as both Knight's Kingdoms and the Fright Knights. Tim E. was now being hired by the Crusaders to construct some buildings with his cheaper material, for their national deficit was reaching record highs and they needed the cheapest they could get.

Viktor let Tim E. rambled on all the while let ambled the streets of the city of Brunshire looking for a suitable pub. Viktor had often read that adventures started out in pubs, but he wanted his adventure to start in a pub that fit his rather high standards. Brunshire was a cleaner and better laid out town than Denderham and Farburg to the north, and consequently had wealthier residents and better pubs, much to Viktor's pleasure. They entered a two-story building labeled the Printed Tile and found a corner table. Tim E. at last shut up when a frothy brew was placed in front of him and they clinked glasses companionably.

"So, Viktor, where be ye headed on the morrow?" asked Tim E. after he had swigged down the contents of his mug with one quick gulp.

Viktor scratched his scraggly red beard and shrugged beneath his worn platemail.

"Dunno really...I've been waiting for an adventure to strike me every day since we left Bjornskoff, but nothing has happened. No pirates, no sea monsters, no mutiny. Megabloks, we didn't even run into a storm or catch fire!"

"Pity." sighed Tim E., signaling the comely barmaid for refill, "Thought I think Chodan there was no storm...just imagine the swells!"

"You're making turn green again..." groaned Viktor, and downed his own drink.

"Seriously, what will you do? Gossip says there's snow only a few miles north. Maybe you could tackle a yeti."

"Might as well head south while I'm at it." agreed Viktor, "I've never seen snow before, much less had an adventure in it...must be interesting..."

"We can stick together until X. Then you can either stay with me or continue onward." suggested Tim E.

"That's sounds good..." affirmed Viktor, sipping at his refill.

After they finished their drinks, they spilled some coins on the table as payment and were just exiting the door when Viktor caught a snatch of conversation from one of the other tables.

"Bloody fool, 'e is, Matthias..."

"Couldn't agree more, mate. That fat Jellybean should hire 'imself out as court jester to the Emperor, 'e'd be more suited to that than ruling an empire!"

"Haha! That's a good 'un, mate!"

Viktor turned stiff. His eyes blazed, and everything about him turned redder in fury, even his hair. With long strides he reentered the inn and soundly punched one of the men off his stool with a crack. The man's eye bulged, his breath coming in tight gasps. His companion leapt up with a cry and drew out a rapier.

"You son of a megabloks, wot wos--!?!"

Viktor drew out his own thick broadsword and smashed it into the man's blade. Then flimsy weapon snapped, and Viktor knocked the hilt and stub of a blade out of the man's hand before punching the man in stomach with his free hand. The man fell backwards over the bar, gurgling as his ribs broke. Viktor, his eyes ablaze, pressed his sword to the man throat.

"How dare you, you scum, you megabloks, you shifty-brick, how dare you insult my king?! I will remove your best-lock mouth from your--"

"Now...er, Viktor..."

Tim E. tapped the furious Eastern Knight's Kingdomer on the shoulder carefully.

"Let it be...let's just go before..."

"You Jelly-lover!" gasped out the first man on the floor.

Viktor whirled about and bashed his foot into the man's groin and was about to thrust his blade downward when a bottle whooshed by his ear, hitting a bystander in the face. It was as if a sudden order was shouted, for the whole pub erupted into a fight scene right out of once of Viktor's books. Chairs were thrown and weapons drawn, while the barmaids screamed and the portly own simply shrank behind the bar. Viktor was now fighting willy-nilly, mostly with his fist, but also with the occasional stab. He fell three men, then a tingling in the back of his neck caused him to turn. Another man right next to him and was about to bring down a chair upon Viktor when suddenly a long, oblong board thunked down upon the man's head.

"See, these 1x2x5s are good for something!" grinned Tim E.

He jumped over the limp man and shouted at Viktor, "Let's get the tyco out of here before the coppers arrive!"

Viktor nodded sharply and they both dashed out the door. As the Printed Tile disappeared behind them, Viktor grinned and said, "Adventures really do start in pubs!"