Classic-Castle Roleplay: April 2005

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Robert was now officially the Crusader king though his ceremonial crowning would not come until the traditionally date of May 8th. Now he was traveling to the capitol city.

Grid: N-10
Location: Port Crowne

"Still looking for adventure?" queried Tim E.

"Yeah...I might continue north...or might head inland...I don't know really."

"Well," Tim E. smiled, "It's been great knowin' ya. I'll been here all summer and perhaps the fall, but after that I'll head home. Perhaps we'll meet again."

"I hope so." grinned Viktor. Then he flipped a coin to Orson the bartender, pounded Tim E. on the back one last time, and left the bar.

For the rest of the day, Viktor wandered about the city of Port Crowne. Port Crowne was a big city, and a bustling port, and there was much too see. After Viktor had examined the docks and the less-than-respectable pubs and other seaside establishment, he headed back up the cobbled main street intent on leaving the city and heading inland. However, before coming to the gate, he passed by what appeared to be an open-air theatre, and he stopped, intrigued. Yes, it was a theatre, but they certainly weren’t preparing for a play. The entire complex was decked out in billowing colors of red, blue and yellow, the national colors of the Crusaders. Men and women clothed in smocks scrubbed away at one isle of stone circular seats while more persons carefully placed cushions upon seats already clean. On the stage itself, a platform had been erected, and men were struggling to heave what appeared to be a golden throne into an elevated position.

“What’s this?” asked Viktor, stopped a man carrying a bundle of cloth.

“Wot?” the man looked at Viktor in annoyance, “Where the bloody mega blocks ‘ave ye been? Dis be the site of the king’s coronation. T’was ‘posed to be May 8th ‘stead of ‘Pril 8th, but some megablocks moved the date uppa month!”

The man pushed past Viktor and continued on his way. Viktor turned his gaze back to the stage.

“A coronation, eh? On the 8th?” Viktor said to himself, “That’s only three days away. I can wait three days before leaving…”

Now Rosa was in the Crusader city of Westwater.

Grid: M-9
Location: the Crusader port village of Westwater

It was not long before the news of King Robert’s impending crowning reached the residents of Westwater. At once there was an exodus south. Everyone dropped everything they were doing and traveled to Port Crowne, eager to catch a glimpse of the coronation. To her own surprise, Rosa found herself among them. She did not know why she too had headed south when she heard of the news, perhaps she simply wanted to see something new. Talking to water gypsies day in and day out got bring after a while. Though coronations certainly were not Rosa’s thing, either. She hated stuck-up royalty people with their prim ways and proud postures. Also, they would have the most dreadful security measures. Endless soldiers, and guards with sniffing and biting dogs. Megabloks. It would be a nightmare. Besides, they would be overreacting. What could possibly go wrong at the coronation?

“No, not this one. I don’t know where he lives but I trust ye to find that out yourself. It shouldn’t be that hard to locate. Now I’ll be in Denderham until the eighth of May. That’s the date of the coronation and I’ll expect ye back before then. Any questions?”

Targon was in a panic. Now all his plans were ruined. How dare the Crusader elite mess up his brilliantly planned schemes by moving the coronation to April 8th instead of May 8th! Well, there was nothing for it now…he would have to do the kidnapping during the ceremony…

[Formendacil]

Grid: M-24
Location: Not far from Smuggler's Bane cove

"I know what you search for," said Sir Dractor. "It cannot be allowed into the Dark One's hands."

"Indeed it cannot," nodded the Old Man. "But come, we have some miles yet ahead of us, and the Sorceror-king remains ahead of us."

The Old Man and Sir Dractor had returned to the Old Man's camp. Elwen was just stirring, and Jayko was still fast asleep. The sounds of Sir Dractor and the Old Man talking as they came near woke Elwen from her lingering slumber, and her subsequent shout of surprise at seeing Sir Dractor shook Jayko from sleep.

"You're back!" she cried. "Good to see you!" and she gave Sir Dractor a big hug. Jayko looked on blurry-eyed and somewhat incredulous. "What have you been up to?" she asked.

"Quite a bit," said Sir Dractor smiling, and remembering her as a young girl in pigtails when he had stayed at her father's house. Nearly twenty years ago. She was quite grown-up now, long since grown up in fact. Wedded, widowed, and now welded to a very fateful piece of jewelry. Sir Dractor mentally reswore his promise to see no ill come to her as a result of the quest.

"But I don't have time to tell it all now," said Sir Dractor. "Let's breakfast, and then get moving. I can tell you my story on the road."

So after a short breakfast of waybread, cheese, and bacon, they set off back to the road, which was now little-tended, and much filled with grass and holes. Sir Dractor told them of the quest to destroy the Pendants of King Kris, and his subsequent journey to meet them.

They travelled less speedily than they had before he had joined them, since he had no horse, and three had to be made do between the four of them. The Old Man and Elwen rode together, and they took turns letting the horses rest under Jayko, who had the lowest mean weight of the three burdens.

Nightfall was coming on, and the Old Man said that they were about a day away from the Old Ruins, and they were starting to look around for a suitable spot to camp, when a stone went whizzing through the air from their left (the west), and struck the Old Man on the head. His head bleeding slightly, he dropped off his horse into an unconscious bundle on the ground.

Sir Dractor's sword was in his hand before Jayko had had time to think. Squinting into the fading sunlight, Sir Dractor caught sight of fifteen mounted and armed Dragon Masters.

"Stay here!" he shouted at Elwen. "Make sure he's not seriously hurt! I'll deal with these miscreants. You!" He pointed at Jayko. "Come with me. You can fight one while I take on the others."

Spurring on his horse, he charged at the Dragon Masters, Jayko following hesistantly behind him, not believing that two men stood a chance against fifteen. But then, Jayko had never seen Sir Dractor in battle...

[The Green Knight]

Targon was in a panic. Now all his plans were ruined. How dare the Crusader elite mess up his brilliantly planned schemes by moving the coronation to April 8th instead of May 8th! Well, there was nothing for it now…he would have to do the kidnapping during the ceremony…

N-10
Denderham

“Are you sure your information is correct?” said Targon, turning to the mousy peddler who had given him the detestable news.

“Of course I’m sure.” Said the man. “I was in Camborne just this morning.”

“Camborne?”

“Oh, that’s old tongue for Port Crowne. You see it’s derived from the ancient words: ‘camn’, meaning crown and ‘bearn’, meaning to bear away or transport. You see? Crown Port. Port Cr—

“Why did I even ask?” Targon mumbled under his breath as he trapped away. While perhaps on some other day Targon might have put up with the peddler’s rambling etymology lesson, he was in no mood for one now.

“Of course,” thought Targon, moving toward the gates of Denderham. “They would have to move up the date of the coronation. Just my bad luck! And I do seem to have an inordinate amount of it these days.” Targon thought back over the past year. Wasn’t it bad luck that had gotten him exiled from his homeland? Wasn’t it bad luck that had made him overboard durring the sea battle and bad luck that had kept him from escaping on Dragon Master Isle? Wasn’t it bad luck that had kept him from snatching the emperor’s crown and worse luck still that Bargon had run into some kind of god-powers?

Still…he had made it alive through all of it. And against greater odds then most men could imagine. Truly he had been dealt a great deal of good luck as well.

“Yep,” he said, smiling to him self. “That’s why they call me Targon the indestructible.”

Presently Targon approached the gates of Denderham. There was a large battalion of soldiers outside. Targon listened as the leader spoke.
“The finest knights of the land, sent by the Count of Montburg, and the Earl of Yorkton at the Mayor’s request.”

“Great,” said the gatekeeper. “The mayor’s been expecting you.”

“Strange,” thought Targon. “It looks like the new king has more to worry about then just pirates. Maybe that’s why he moved the coronation. Well, no matter. I should be in Port Crowne by this time tomorrow."

[Cyclonis]

"Hey! I found it" screamed Cyclonis.
"Found what?" said Qual.
"I found land! Seriously, come see! its so green and rich with colour!" screamed Cyclonis. The two others came to see what he was so exited about.
"It really is land!" screamed qual with joy!
Cyclonis and Qual-Ren were happy once again.


...Maybe it was because of the dragon.

1-16, Near shore (and soon on shore) of the KK1 territory.

"Woo-hoo!" screamed Cyclonis. Everyone seemed as happy as possible now since they found land. Cyclonis was screaming so loud, that even the birds on the shore were terrified of the excrushiating sound. Qual-Ren has very happy, very happy indeed, and was packing up all of his gear back into his little backpack. Kayfir was satisfied, it was a good adventure, and now was the perfect time to leave nature. To let the water sway on its own, and to let the wind take the water. Now they were fully prepared to hit shore. They are only about nine metres away.
Cyclonis and Qual were growing a bit inpatient, due to the high excitement of all that sand, all that grass and all those trees, and to terminate the impatience, the two jumped out of the boat and swam straight to the shore. The two were already slightly drenched, and it didn't bothor them one bit that they were soaking thier clothes even more. Plus, there must be some more clothes somewhere.
Kayfir witness the other two jumping about with joy, and he laughed as he watched the two break through the clear, pure surface of the waters, and Qual-Ren swam to the land before Cyclonis did, as he was much more fit than Cyclonis. Plus, Cyclonis had his usual dark grey shoulder pads and dark-grey thin yet heavy chain-male armour on. He left the rest of his armour in Qual's pack, because they were the more important pieces to his armour, like breastplates, elbow armours and they were all too precious to have in the waters. Of course, if there were an accident, he would dive in water with all of his armour on if he had to, but right now he was just swiming to get to that shore. There were no Black-Falcoms shooting at his backs and he wasn't running from anything or anyone.
Kayfir was still on the boat, slowly paddeling to shore. He didn't mind how long he would be on that boat for, but he was about 2 metres away from land. He was laughing at Cyclonis and Qual's foolish remarks and actions. Qual started to jump around on the land, laughing at Cyclonis as he swam as fast he could. It wasn't good enough for Qual, though. Kayfir noticed that Qual had left his pack on the boat.
"Hey, you left your luagage, Qual." he said
"Haha, yeah, I know." he replied. Of course, Kayfir has realised by now that Qual purposely left it in there, just so that He would have to drag it to shore by himself. He had now hit land, and by the time he got out of the small boat Cyclonis was standing on grass. Kayfir heeved Qual's backpack at him. They all walked away from the water. Kayfir was behind the others. He stopped for a second, just to do one last thing. He looked behind him, gazing up at the white sky. He looked a little to the left, and realised that a cloud had just expanded, shooting puffs of cloud everywhere out of the front, as if something has gone straight in there.
He thought to himself "Until next time, dragon." and he exposed a slight smirk on the side of his face.
"Come on, Kay" said Qual as he was walking away.

They had now left nature, and now traveled into civillisation.

[lemon_squeezer2]

Guterviz didn’t buy it. His tone was a mark stiffer then before. “I see. Let me – check my records. I’ll be back – later.”

Rudabaker was getting anxious. The disease on his ship was taking its toll and his men were beginning to get restless and very discontent. Even worse, his cargo was as good as gone, all of them either dead or dying. He wanted to get on shore fast.

Guterviz on the other hand had gone down to Gok. The 1st Falcon fleet was mostly gone, but there were still a few costal ships around. The Falcon port authority did not want to take any risks if there was a plague going on, and the fact that the slave galley was an unregistered ship only made things easier. Now he was at the prow of an allocated ship filled with solders. A scant hour later brought them within view of Iadoraz. There the galley sat, its sails down and oars banked. A job couldn’t be easier.

It was Pangord – the galley’s first mate who spotted the Falcon warship first. It was bearing down on the smugglers – perhaps barely a mile away. Something was not quite right about it though. In his pathetically structured memory, the sailor tried to recollect a similar sight. He blinked sharply and closed his eyes again. Now he remembered – the Falcon vessel was a ship of war – already he could see glints of metal, probably the armor of solders ready to board. They had fallen into a trap.

Time was of the essence and surprise was crucial. Before the galleass had come within a half-mile of the slaver though, Guterviz noticed men scurrying around the deck frantically, and a short moment later the galley’s well patched sail was being raised. The Falcon commander swore under his breath. What was supposed to be a simple job had now turned into a chase.

Unfortunately for the slavers, their ship was not built for speed. Before it had been appropriated, or rather stolen for its present job, it had been a trading vessel, designed for maximizing space, not speed.

It took barely an hour to catch up. As the two ships drew side by side, Guterviz could see the astonished and frightened faces of the slavers. He did not hesitate for a second. Calling out the appropriate commands, twenty well-aimed arrows flew through the air, more then half meeting their marks. The Falcon ship began to turn about as a second volley was fired. The galley was hopelessly doomed and a split second later the two ships collided. Underwater, the steel headed ram of the attacking vessel broke through the half rotted timbers, going so far as to even break its keel. Only a few planks on the port side kept the galley from breaking apart.

On the deck, fifteen swordsmen made short work of the surviving crew. Briefly steeping onto the ship Guterviz took a quick look at some of the bodies. His worse suspicions were confirmed. Nearly all seemed to be infected with some form of the plague. He sighed with relief. Perhaps hundreds of lives had been saved from a deadly outbreak.

[Formendacil]

Grid: M-24
Location: Not far from Smuggler's Bane cove

"Stay here!" he shouted at Elwen. "Make sure he's not seriously hurt! I'll deal with these miscreants. You!" He pointed at Jayko. "Come with me. You can fight one while I take on the others."

Spurring on his horse, he charged at the Dragon Masters, Jayko following hesistantly behind him, not believing that two men stood a chance against fifteen. But then, Jayko had never seen Sir Dractor in battle...

Sir Dractor, despite having the slower horse, outpaced the hesitant Jayko considerably as he charged the Dragon Masters. The Dragon Masters were still for a moment, half-shocked at the "rash" charge of the two knights.

Soon, though, it was apparent to both the Dragon Masters and to Jayko that there was nothing rash about it. Sir Dractor plowed through the Dragon Masters, smashing them off their horses (easy, considering that they were foot soldiers and only riding out of the necessity of catching their mounted prey). Jayko came up behind him and charged at the two or three Dragon Masters who had managed to avoid his charge, and were coming on him from the rear. As far as knights went, there is no doubt that Jayko was far from skilled, but he HAD received formal training, and the Dragon Masters were half horse-sick.

"Regroup!" shouted the lead Dragon Master. His men rushed to his side, on foot.

"Hoist halberds! Stand together to dismount the knights!"

Sir Dractor took up their challenge. He spurred his horse directly at them, right into the middle of their fourteen-man cluster. They broke an egg under a hammer.

The horse, somewhat wounded, trotted away in terror, as did most of the Dragon Master mounts, but Sir Dractor had already leapt to the ground. And Sir Dractor disliked mounted fighting to begin with.

~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Elwen had wiped the blood off of the Old Man's head, and had bound the rapidly-swelling wound. The sounds of battle faded as Sir Dractor and his opponents moved steadily farther away from the road.

As the battle sounds grew fainter though, Elwen noticed another sound. Horses.

She looked up. Seven more Dragon Masters were coming her way.

"All right, lady," said the leader. "Stand away from the sorceror, and we won't hurt you."

Elwen's blood started to boil. To be told to sit back while Sir Dractor dealt with the Dragon Masters was one thing. Sir Dractor did that with pretty much everybody. But after a humiliating kidnapping and enslavement and then rescue, Elwen was in little mind to stand back meekly.

Drawing her sword with her right hand even as she put on her helm with her left, she stood in front of the Old Man, a hard look on her face.

"Make me," she said. Y'lirk and his men dismounted, being infantrymen and not cavalry. Y'lirk smiled. This was going to be fun.

[Sir Dillon]

N-15
Location: Castle of Morcia

It had been about a week since Cynan had become a knight under the rule King Mathias. He had had to go through a small ceremony where he made an oath to serve him, but that was about all he did the whole week, and he was becoming very bored.

He was given a new sword; it was a strange heavy sword, and looked dull though it was actually very sharp.
Cynan didn’t like the way the sword felt and asked for his old one back, but was denied, that puzzled him very much.

So he walked down to the black smith and requested a new one. But the Black smith would not make him a new one for free.

“Besides” he said. “You don’t need a new one when yours is perfectly good.”

Cynan walked out angrily and started cursing under his breath everybody he had ever known.

Than Cynan realized he was being watched and stopped. In the corner of his eye he saw a man, about thirty feet away, almost impossible to see in the shadows.

When the man realized he was spotted, he emerged from the shadows and started to walk towards Cynan. The man was tall, with long black hair and shallow cheek bones.
He was dressed mainly in black, but there was a little red here in there. He had no emblem on his tunic, but Cynan had a good guess as to what faction he was from.

“You are Cynan the Black Knight, are you not?” said the stranger in a smooth voice.

“Yes” replied Cynan. “But how did you know?”

“I have my ways” said the stranger in what sounded like a sneer. “I also know that you are out money. I have a way that you can earn some.”

“What must I do?”

“Meet me out side the gate tonight after dark. I’ll tell you what to do then.”

[LEGO-las]

Location: I-11

It had been several weeks since Moff D’Florda and his soldiers left Denderham. It had been a long, hard journey. The “Shadows” had been entrusted with their weapons, though it took a certain amount of bluffing. About half of them had swords or axes, and the other half had swords. If someone had passed by, they would have thought the “Shadows” and Crusaders were allies. But when they reached Dragon Master land, the Shadow Knights attacked their escort.

It did not take long to slay the Crusaders. After all, the Crusaders were lightly armed. The Shadow Knights fled to a nearby stream and set up camp.

“Um, uh, Moff, sir uh…”
“Speak up, you megabloks Shadow!”
But the Shadow Knight didn’t have time. An arrow took him full in the chest. A full volley of arrows soon after took the Shadow Knights by surprise. Many were slain instantly, but some, thanks to their armor, survived. Then a volley of crossbow bolts pounded the Shadow Knights, slaying the Shadow Knights with armor. Luckily for Moff, he had the sense to lie low. But he wasn’t the only one lying low. Soon small forces of Elite Crusaders were marching into the Shadow Knight camp. Then the Shadow Knights made their move. They sprang up, taking the Crusaders by surprise. Soon a small force of archers were firing volley after volley into the Crusaders’ ranks.

The Crusaders were indeed taken by surprise. Expecting no resistance, and for that matter, nobody alive, they had marched boldly into the camp. Then Shadow Knights seemed to grow out of the ground. They had pretended to be dead! But the Crusaders weren’t horrible fighters. They proved strong, valiant, and worthy opponents. Many Shadow Knights were slain on the frontlines, while others were slain by crossbow bolts and arrows.

All in all, it was a big loss for both sides. At least fifty or so Crusaders lay dead or dieing, while almost all of the Shadow Knights were dead. But where was Moff?

[TheOrk]

L-12 Castle Dracul

Belzzar grew restless. Pythos seemed to detach from what ever sanity he possessed. Also ever since that cursed book was brought back from the crypts, a darker shadow formed over the castle. The horses and dragons were uneasy. The men appeared as if they were in a stupor.

The matter of this Valric fellow ate at him like a cancer. He had indeed slain his father. Belzzar also knew he played some part in Pythos’s schemeing. Belzzar sat in his throne, fingering his Bat Staff. He would not have survived so long in this world, without being cautous.

Coming out of sidedoor in the great hall was a black clothed page. He walked up to Belzzar and bowed. “What the intellabrix do want? Speak!” Hissed Belzzar, who always took great delight in treating his underlings like megabloks.

The terrified lad surpressed a stutter. “Milord, the sentries have spotted a dragon rider approaching. They say he bears an emblem of a flame wreathed bat on his chest.”

Belzzar frowned. “Is that all? The get the shiftybrick out of my sight!”

He knew which BatLord bore a flame wreathed crest. The “Great” Durak Maquez. He was one of the most barbaric Batlords in the last several centuries. He rellied more on the sword, then on magic. He had earned the favor of She-of-the-Burrow. Making him the most powerful and wealthy BatLord in the land.

Belzzar sighed and got up Lord Durak wouldn’t send him a message if it wasn’t gravely important.

Escorted by a several bodyguards he walked into the inner courtyard. A huge black dragon was there. That could only belong to Durak or some fopling from Gynthaunt.

Strutting over Belzzar spied a knight in a flowing crimson cape, with a chrome Dragonhelm. One of Duraks higher ranking underlings. The herald was as savage as all the Fright Knights but Durak’s goons and the Lady’s goons had a snooty air about them.

“Whadya want?” Growled Belzzar.

The herald taken back abit smiled. He hated every second in Castle Dracul. “I bear a message from the great Lord Durak Maquez.” It was a private conversation, the soldiers and slaves went about there buisness. Not daring to tempt their master’s wrath.

Belzzar snatched a scroll out of the herald’s gauntleted hands. He tore off the seal with little grace. His eyes flew like an arrow over the untidy scrawl. He finished abruptly, he crumpled it up in growing anger. He would have torn the Fright Knight to shreds. But he was not his minion, killing a herald of the Lady’s most favored Batlord was not wise to do. Especially concerning the subject at hand.
“What?” He stated bluntly.

[Sir Drake]

Grid: R-8
Location: Daggerfall Spire

Screams sounded through the dark dungeons of the Spire. Deep below the normal floorlevel, the dungeon keepers where marking their slaves. The guards dragged the prisoners out of their prisons to the keepers, there, they received their tatoo. The tattoo was burned on their right-upperarm, containing the initials of their owner. This was like a shop, rich folks could buy themselves some slaves for a very high price. Mostly it were the women that were seld, the men were kept in the prisons, held captive and then thrown in the arena for a bloodboiling battle against bloodwolves or dragons. Slaves that weren't bought, served the royal house, or as the situation was now, they served Varras and the other nobles that were housing in the Spire.

So as many others, Aaylah was taken out of her "cage" and marked by a dungeon keeper, they burned the initials of her owner on her arm: LV, meaning Lord Vos, Varras. As soon as she was marked, they dressed her in a gold bikini(Leia Style), just to humiliate her and send her up, to Varras. There, she remained, as Varras' personal slave.

"Slave, clean my boats" Varras said, with a smile on his face.
"What, they're not even dirty"
"You filthy... ignoring my command?" Varras said angry "guard, give me your whip!!"

Varras grabbed the guards whip and smacked it on Aaylah's back.

"That'll be twenty whips for ignoring my command"

Aaylah lay there on the ground, trying to get up, but then another whip hitted her back, a line of blood ran over her back, then another whiplash hitted her, followed by another and so on.

"There you go, twenty, don't you ever ignore me again, you'd better get used to your new life, filthy slave! Khaleen, get over her"

An elder woman came out of the shadows. She seemed to be the matriarch of the slaves around here.

"Get her to the slave quarters, get her cleaned, NOW!" Varras said brutely.
"Yes, master, I'll do it immediatly"

She lifted Aaylah and Aaylah's arm on her shoulders as support. Together they limped down the spiralstairs, to the slavequarters.
The slavequarters were a drak place, the only light that was there came through the bars of the small window, it was a dirty place, but it'll have to do, after all, they are just slaves.

"My dear child, what has he done to you" Khaleen muttered under her breath whil laying Aaylah on a bench.
"Lenya, would you please hand me over those blenkets and some water" Khaleen said to another slave.

Immediatly, the woman grabbed the blenkets and a bucket over water and handed them over at Khaleen.

"Thanks, my dear" the old woman responded and drenked a blanket in the water and cleaned Aaylah's wounds. Few minutes later, Aaylah turned and overviewed the small quarters.

"Thanks" she said "where are the men, I can only see women over here"
"Yes, yes indeed, that would be because Varras locks the men up somewhere else, I believe they're at the Arena, to fight for the people's entertainment, tell me, what did you do to get up here?"
"I didn't do nothing, Varras will just probaly use be as bait"
"Bait? For what, my darling, why would he use you as bait, no one cares about slaves these days"
"Ouch" Aaylah said when she tried to get back up.
"You better lay down for a while, you've got some serious cuts, if Varras is indeed using you as bait, it would surely not work, no man can receive messages about our situation here, no man can ever know that you're here and that you suffer"
"Maybe, no man could, but my friend is no ordinairy man, he's a legend, a hero, a powerfull one, he'll probably catch up something, he's has some kind of bond with Varras, I don't know how, but he'll get us out of here"
"If I may ask, who would your friend be?"
"Sure you may know, his name is Swift, he's a wanderer, he is rumored to be the reincarnation of Archidamus, the one that united the clans and tribes and led the Wolfpack to a time of peace"

Suddenly a guard knocked on the door.

"No talking, shut up!!!"
"We'll better go to sleep, it's getting late" Khaleen whispered.
"Yes, you're right, goodnight"
"Sleep well, my dear child, may Chodan watch over you"

Aaylah slept very uncomfortable that night, she slept on the hard stone bench, she only had a thin blenket to keep her warm, she was shivering, her wounds were burning on her back, they hurted more then they did when received.
She hoped that somewhere, wherever Swift was, he could feel her pain, she hoped that he would come after her.
_______________

Grid: N-7
Location: Some forest in Wolf Pack lands

It was getting dark, moonlight lit up the dark forest. Swift searched for a good place to sleep. As a good ranger he was, he soon found a spot and lay down. The soldier instinct in him forbode him to really sleep vast, he was very alert, after all, he was in enemy terretory. He tried to catch some sleep, but soon his mind was filled with visions of Aaylah. First, the dark Spire appeared, then he was shown Aaylah being whipped by Varras, later, Aaylah was appeared when nursed by Khaleen. Swifts blood boiled in his veins, sweat dripped of his forehead as he woke up, right on time, in the distance he heard voices...

[Sir Dillon]

N-15
Location: outside the Castle of Morcia

Cynan shivered, it was getting cold.
He was sitting out side the city gate in shadows, he’d now been waiting over an hour, and the strange knight still hadn’t shown up.

“Where is that Megablok?!” he muttered angrily to himself. “He’s probably up in his room, laughing at how stupid I was to believe him.” Cynan was starting to feel bitter the more he thought about it..
He wanted to go back inside, but the gates were shut, and no one was allowed in or out till dawn.

He tried to go to sleep, but he couldn’t, the ground was too rocky and uncomfortable.

After much thought, he decided he would just leave the KK2 land; he didn’t seem to fit in any way.
He stood up and stretched his stiff and tired legs. He started to walk around when he heard the sound of foot steps. He turned around and drew his new sword, but it was only the stranger knight.

“Where the Tyco have you been?” said Cynan as he sheathed his sword.

“Ohh, I was delayed.” said the knight in an annoyingly smooth voice. “Any way, I have something for you to do; there is a young man from the land of the Ninja traveling to Morcia…

Cynan cut in “You want me to murder him?”

“No, I want you to kidnap him and bring him back here, but do NOT, go in to Morcia. There will be guide waiting out side the gates where we are now. He will take you where you are to deliver to boy.”

“Where is the boy now?”

“He’s somewhere between here and fright knight land. He will have an armed escort, so we will be giving ten men to you.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

At this the stranger paused, then he said; “The Shadow Knights.”

“O.K, when do I start?”

“Tomorrow, we’ll meet you here at noon.”

“By the way, how much am I being paid for this?”

At this the Shadow Knight smiled and said: “enough to buy you as many swords as you want.”

[Formendacil]

Grid: M-24
Location: Not far from Smuggler's Bane cove

Drawing her sword with her right hand even as she put on her helm with her left, she stood in front of the Old Man, a hard look on her face.

"Make me," she said. Y'lirk and his men dismounted, being infantrymen and not cavalry. Y'lirk smiled. This was going to be fun.

Elwen moved to her left, drawing them away from the Old Man's body. The Dragon Masters turned, following, and rushed at her.

Elwen slowed down as they drew near. Blocking one with her shield, she slipped her sword under another's guard, and into his abdomen.

Swinging outwards as she slipped the sword back out, she parried the blow of a third. Using the positioning of the others as a shield, she drove her sword into the leg on the one she had been holding off with her shield, while swinging to shove the shield into the face of another, who fell backwards into one of his mates.

Elwen quickly stabbed both of them as they tumbled to the ground, and then turn to face the remaining Dragon Masters. No longer expecting an easy fight, they were holding their swords at ready, and their shields were before them.

Elwen feinted, pretending to attack. Instead, she slipped right, and got around one of her opponent's guard, and stabbed him in the arm.

There was only one Dragon Master left opposing her. They circled each other round and round, more of a duel than a battle.

The Elwen noticed that there should still be another Dragon Master. The corporal wasn't there. She had wounded five, was fighting a sixth, and there should have been seven. Then she caught sight of Y'lirk. He had pretended to be wounded, and had inched his way back towards the Old Man. He was standing over the sorcerer, dagger in hand.

Elwen didn't stop to think. She flung her sword straight at him. The sword landed right through Y'lirk's back, killing him instantly.

The last Dragon Master then grabbed her from behind. He had dropped his shield, and seemed intent on killing her the long and hard way. Elwen's head split with pain where her scalp was pressed into by the crown, pressed by the force of the Dragon Master's chest.

Elwen struggled, and managed to slip loose. The Dragon Master chased her. She tripped on the stone, and landed headfirst on the ground. She looked up, and saw the Dragon Master standing over her, and evil leer on her face.

But even as she watched, the Dragon Master's face tensed with pain, and then went blank. She rolled away just as he fell to the ground. Looking up, she saw Sir Dractor. The big warrior's face was livid. He bent over, yanked his dagger out of the Dragon Master, and gave Elwen a hand up.

"Your blue friend is reviving the Old Man," he said. "Let's get moving."

"What about them?" said Elwen, gesturing at the numerous wounded Dragon Masters around them. Only a few had died.

"Leave them," said Sir Dractor. "It's no more than they deserve."

[The Green Knight]

Grid N-10
Location Port Crowne
April 8th

“ ‘scuse me sir.” Targon was in Port Crown, making towards the front of the crowd, surrounding the theater. He wasn’t allowed into the seats of course, which were reserved for only the royals and select upper citizens of the kingdom. The masses that had turned out to see the coronation would have to content themselves with a view from a distance. Still, Targon did have a good position in the crowd. His view was practically parallel to the back of the stage, with a view of the back and the front. He didn’t like what he saw. Soldiers were everywhere, standing front and back of the stage and platform in the special crusader uniforms used for important occasions. Two of these ambled passed Targon, talking and laughing as they went to take their places.

Targon frowned. This was bad. The theater was such a wide, open place that anything he did would definitely be noticed. Though located near the outer circle of Port Crowne, the theater was still surrounded by wattle and daub houses on all sides. If he was successful, Targon knew he would make for one of those alleys. Yet, how could he even get that far? He would have to make it down to the stage unnoticed, grab whoever was there, and make it back to the alleys without being stopped by the crowd. Targon needed a plan.

Suddenly there was a sound of trumpets and the royal procession appeared, coming down the street. Targon held his breath. He was still holding out hope that the King might be alone. If he was then Targon would have no one to kidnap. But as Targon’s luck would have it, the king was not alone. The royal family took their places on the platform. The king, the queen, the prince, and the princess.

Slowly Targon reviewed his prospects. The prince was a tall young man in his late teens with broad shoulders and an ornate sword in a sheath at his side. “I’d have some trouble taking him in.” thought Targon. That left the queen and the princess, a teenaged girl somewhat younger then her brother. Of the two, the princess seemed the lighter, which ought to be taken into consideration if the need arose to throw her over his shoulder.

So Targon had his target, but he still didn’t know how to execute the kidnapping. Targon thought on this for a good while as the bishop droned on. He would have to come up with something quick. “Bloody soldiers. Who’s idea was it to bring them?” Wait a minute. Maybe that was it. The two soldiers that had passed him before were standing right behind the prince. Slowly a plan formed in the Dragon Master’s head.
“A teleharm is a terrible thing to waste.”
Methodically, Targon focused on individuals throughout the crowd, whispering thoughts into their heads.

Sure, the royalty get cushioned seats while we have to stand. Just another example of the royals oppressing the people.

Would you look at that gaudy dress the queen is wearing? Why it’s a crime against fashion! She ought to be slapped.

Ugh, the reign of King Richard still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. You know what they say, father like son.

Humph! They act like we should be happy. This king will probably just raising the taxes and oppressing the people.

Soon the crowd was mumbling and grumbling amongst themselves. “Perfect!” Thought Targon. “Now for part two of the plan.” The Dragon Master now focused on the prince, trying to remember the voices of those two guards.

So, what do ya think of the king?

I like ‘im. ‘e seems to ‘ave a certain strength about ‘im ya know. A shame ’e didn’t pass any o that on to the prince eh?

Heheh praps ‘e’s not even the king’s son. I ‘eard the queen is been mighty friendly with some o the ‘ansomer nobles.

Suddenly the prince whirled around and snapped something at the two guards. Targon watched in amusement as the dumfounded guards tried to apologize. The Dragon Master grinned. And not a moment after the prince had his back turned, he was at it again.

Heh, Prince. More like a princess.

Yeah, the Prince is a princess and the Princess is a quean.

“Why you VILE MEGABLOKS!!!” The prince shouted, whirling around, slicing one of the guards across the chest and running the other though the heart.

Targon smiled. Perfect. “Look!” he shouted. “The prince is attacking the innocent soldiers! Stop him! A bas la tyrannée!”

With an enormous roar, the crowd poured down on the stage. The soldiers were in a state of confusion, not knowing whether to stop the prince or the mob. Meanwhile, Targon made a beeline for the princess.

“Hang on missy.” He said, flinging her over his shoulder. “We need to get you to safety.” Quickly Targon made his way out of the mob and into one of the alleys. Yes, things were going his way.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

“ ‘scuse me sir.” Targon was in Port Crown, making towards the front of the crowd, surrounding the theater. He wasn’t allowed into the seats of course, which were reserved for only the royals and select upper citizens of the kingdom. The masses that had turned out to see the coronation would have to content themselves with a view from a distance. Still, Targon did have a good position in the crowd. His view was practically parallel to the back of the stage, with a view of the back and the front. He didn’t like what he saw. Soldiers were everywhere, standing front and back of the stage and platform in the special crusader uniforms used for important occasions. Two of these ambled passed Targon, talking and laughing as they went to take their places.

Targon frowned. This was bad. The theater was such a wide, open place that anything he did would definitely be noticed. Though located near the outer circle of Port Crowne, the theater was still surrounded by wattle and daub houses on all sides. If he was successful, Targon knew he would make for one of those alleys. Yet, how could he even get that far? He would have to make it down to the stage unnoticed, grab whoever was there, and make it back to the alleys without being stopped by the crowd. Targon needed a plan.

Suddenly there was a sound of trumpets and the royal procession appeared, coming down the street. Targon held his breath. He was still holding out hope that the King might be alone. If he was then Targon would have no one to kidnap. But as Targon’s luck would have it, the king was not alone. The royal family took their places on the platform. The king, the queen, the prince, and the princess.

I can't believe I wasted three days waiting for this tyco coronation Viktor swore inwardly, They don't even have food, what kind of megabloks rip-off is that?

Now the Royal family was up on the stage and the bishop began monologuing.

"We are gathered here today..."

What kind of cheap show is this? Where's the beer? Where's the celebration? If I don't find a keg in five minutes I'm out of here...

Slowly Targon reviewed his prospects. The prince was a tall young man in his late teens with broad shoulders and an ornate sword in a sheath at his side. “I’d have some trouble taking him in.” thought Targon. That left the queen and the princess, a teenaged girl somewhat younger then her brother. Of the two, the princess seemed the lighter, which ought to be taken into consideration if the need arose to throw her over his shoulder.

So Targon had his target, but he still didn’t know how to execute the kidnapping. Targon thought on this for a good while as the bishop droned on. He would have to come up with something quick. “Bloody soldiers. Who’s idea was it to bring them?” Wait a minute. Maybe that was it. The two soldiers that had passed him before were standing right behind the prince. Slowly a plan formed in the Dragon Master’s head.
“A teleharm is a terrible thing to waste.”
Methodically, Targon focused on individuals throughout the crowd, whispering thoughts into their heads.

Sure, the royalty get cushioned seats while we have to stand. Just another example of the royals oppressing the people.

Would you look at that gaudy dress the queen is wearing? Why it’s a crime against fashion! She ought to be slapped.

Ugh, the reign of King Richard still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. You know what they say, father like son.

Humph! They act like we should be happy. This king will probably just raising the taxes and oppressing the people.

Soon the crowd was mumbling and grumbling amongst themselves. “Perfect!” Thought Targon. “Now for part two of the plan.” The Dragon Master now focused on the prince, trying to remember the voices of those two guards.

So, what do ya think of the king?

I like ‘im. ‘e seems to ‘ave a certain strength about ‘im ya know. A shame ’e didn’t pass any o that on to the prince eh?

Heheh praps ‘e’s not even the king’s son. I ‘eard the queen is been mighty friendly with some o the ‘ansomer nobles.

Suddenly the prince whirled around and snapped something at the two guards. Targon watched in amusement as the dumfounded guards tried to apologize. The Dragon Master grinned. And not a moment after the prince had his back turned, he was at it again.

Heh, Prince. More like a princess.

Yeah, the Prince is a princess and the Princess is a quean.

Rosa had taken residence up upon the balcony of an inn. She had a keen view of the whole square, but it didn’t make the dull coronation any more interesting. Her mind wandered, and she began sizing up the persons and on the stage.

I could beat him she thought, eyeing the King-to-be.

Her eyes moved to the bishop. I could beat him.

Next, the queen. I could beat her.

Then the prince. I could beat him.

Lastly, the petite princess. I could beat her.

Her contemplations were interrupted suddenly, when the prince went mad.

“Why you VILE MEGABLOKS!!!” The prince shouted, whirling around, slicing one of the guards across the chest and running the other though the heart.

Targon smiled. Perfect. “Look!” he shouted. “The prince is attacking the innocent soldiers! Stop him! A bas la tyrannée!”

With an enormous roar, the crowd poured down on the stage. The soldiers were in a state of confusion, not knowing whether to stop the prince or the mob.

The mass of humanity surged forward like a tsunami. Most of them had no idea what was going on, but they all continued forward, shouting and cursing. Viktor could do nothing to stop the surge, and simply went with the flow. That was, until, the soldiers turned upon the raging peasants.

“HALT OR BE CUT DOWN!” shouted a captain, drawing his sword. The other soldiers follow his signal, and weapons were whipped. Peasants in the front tried to halt, but, the mass behind them forced them forward into the blades of their countrymen.

“Meanwhile, Targon made a beeline for the princess.

“Hang on missy.” He said, flinging her over his shoulder. “We need to get you to safety.” Quickly Targon made his way out of the mob and into one of the alleys. Yes, things were going his way.

Rosa’s eyes grew wide as she watch the crowd swarm. What it Chodan’s name had caused them to charge like that?

“The peasants are revolting.” she pronounced ironically to no one in particular.

Then her eyes narrowed. Someone, a big man clad in forgien-looking armor had jumped onto the stage, whisked the screaming princess into his arms, and vanished back into the crowd.

“That was odd.” Rosa pronounced to herself. Then, quietly, she left the balcony.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I CAME HERE FOR SOME BEER!” snarled Viktor, randomly slashing at someone.

Not for a uprising. He thought to himself. Well, nothing for it now. I’ll probably have to kill off a few of this poor, mindless megablocks and then I get the bloody tyco out of here. Some adventure this is...

[lemon_squeezer2]

Karl was now in front of Martin. The self-proclaimed ruler had not changed much in appearance – his face was still unnaturally pale. That did not take away from the evident look of displeasure spread across his face. Both men were in Durlass’ old office though it looked different since the Falcon general had moved in. No longer was the familiar bookshelf there on the opposite wall, once crammed in a disorganized manner with papers and books. The room was now clean and stripped down to the absolute essentials.

Suddenly, Martin’s sharp clear voice interrupted Karl’s thoughts.
“I have looked over the peace accord that was reached between you and the Classics a month ago.”
Karl searched his head for an appropriate response. “Yes – sir, I…”
Martin cut the diplomat off. “The terms are unsatisfactory. I will not accept anything short of perfection.”
Karl was aghast. “But sir! I was under orders – from Durlass – not you.”
“And Durlass has been charged with high treason. You willingly acted with him.” Martin pointed to two guards who entered through the door at that moment. “Take this man. He is guilty of crimes against the state.”
Astonished, Karl cried out as the two soldiers began to step forward. “You can’t do this – I have a wife – a family!”
Martin did not bat an eye. “Your first loyalty should lie with the state. You have failed that trust.”