Classic Castle Roleplay: March - September, 2006

[Formendacil]

Grid: Q-17
Location: Coastline of the Eastern Knight's Kingdom

"There was a great battle here, 'round about two and an 'arf years ago," said the boatswain, as the boat carrying the four travellers pulled towards the shore. Merina Valenti looked ahead at the late evening sky, dark grey, clouds hiding the sun, and shivered. It was a chill, windy evening.

"It were between the Falcons and the Crusaders, they says," continued the boatswain. "Course, them two countries never liked each other any. But I've heard tale that there were more to it than just them two navies. I heard tale that the famed pirate, Lucky Stormrider, that he were involved. Lost his famous ship, the Hornet, they say- in that very battle."

Merina listened, fascinated- and all too willing to be entertained. Too many dark thoughts of Thomas- alone and sick in Drullen Bell- and too many fears of the road ahead had been playing with her mind for the past weeks, since sailing from Delvarden Gard.

Sir Dractor, however, wasn't listening much. His eyes were watching the coast, looking for a sheltered spot they could head towards to make camp that evening. From the look of things, it was going to rain, and hard.

"... and so then them strangers, what was mixed up in all this, and dread warriors, they says, they was stranded ashore, and taken into the local castle."

Sir Dractor, in tuning out the story, had apparently missed the mention of a fourth party in this tale, which with the mention of the locals, had now swelled to five factions.

"Yup, them Rainbows wasn't too nice to them strangers," continued the boatswain, who apparently shared the normal prejudice against the Eastern Knight's Kingdomers. "They took them strangers prisoner, down to the old castle. But they sure made a mistake there. Them strangers escaped, and ruined the place. Never heard what happened to them. Betcha the Falcons got them."

Turning his gaze back to the shoreline, Sir Dractor could see, in the distance, the dark sillouette of the castle the boatswain was speaking of.

"Then came that freak snowstorm what covered all of the Isle," the boatswain continued. "That finished 'em off here. King Matty- him what's king of the Rainbows- he didn't send a new garrison, and local lord didn't neither. Not really all that important, really. Too far from the Fright Knight border- and from the other Rainbows. Them Rainbows is always fighting, you know."

True enough, Sir Dractor thought. Maligned as they were, there was no disputing that the five provinces of the Eastern Knight's Kingdom had often been at each other's throats.

The longboat drew up on the shore. Sir Dractor, Sir Yves, and William jumped ashore. Sir Dractor gave Merina a hand as she followed suit. The sailors tossed over their weapons and bags. Then the boatswain gave the order for them to shove off and return to the ship.

"One last thing!" the boatswain called, as his boat pulled away. "Them Red Jellies haven't been too fond of visitors since that Sea Battle! Keep a close watch!"

Nodding gravely, Sir Dractor turned back to his group.

"Well, we have enough things to worry about tonight, without dwelling on the Orkosanians. I suggest we take shelter in the old castle, if we can."

"Aye," nodded Sir Yves, "it's going to be nasty tonight."

As if to highlight his words, lightning lighted up the sea behind them, throwing the ship and the longboat into sharp relief.

"Not just tonight," said William, his face grim, "but for a few weeks, at least. The bad weather in these parts is just beginning!"

The crackle of thunder booming overhead, they made swiftly for the ruined castle.

[Formendacil]

Grid: Q-18
Location: Envika Sorgodh

"Milord?" Captain Drazzuil stood ready, as Vækadær looked up from his desk. The letters of Alexander Augustus Smith, greatest metallurgist of all time, were scattered across his desk. He was painstakingly copying out diagrams from the letters, and adding notes of his own. From what Drazzuil could see, the diagram was of breastplate.

"What?" Vækadær snapped, looking up. Clearly, he had been engrossed in his task. "This had better be important, captain."

"I believe it is, sir," replied Drazzuil, maintaining his composure. "That girl that you've been wanting to kill for nearly a year now- she's been seen not too far north of here."

Drazzuil's assessment was correct. Vækadær was interested- very interested.

"Where?" he demanded to know, standing immediately.

"Crossing the border from Orkosan," replied Drazzuil, "into Batlord Mirakir's lands."

Vækadær dismissed the mention of his peer. Mirakir was a minor batlord, with little clout in Gynthaunt. His sole importance here was that his lands lay between Vækadær's and that part of Orkosan from which Merina Valenti was coming.

"Who is with her?" he asked.

"Sir Æthelred Dractor, Sir Yves D'Auron, and William Jorgenson," replied Drazzuil. Vækadær's left eyebrow shot up in surprise.

"And young Thomas Valt?"

"Not with them, milord, that's all I know," replied Drazzuil. "Possibly Lord Bartavlo would be able to find out, but I do not. I only learned that Valenti and her companions were in Fright Knight lands by chance, getting it from Mirakir's men."

"Is it certain that it is Valenti and the others?" asked Vækadær.

"Positive," reported Drazzuil. "The descriptions match perfectly. I came to you as soon as I heard."

"Why would they come to Fright Knight lands?" Vækadær mused aloud, then turned to Drazzuil. "Thank you, Captain, you may return to your duties."

And sweeping out of the room, his red cape rustling behind him, Vækadær made straight for his crystal, to telaharm Andrei Bartavlo, two questions burning in his mind:

Why was Merina Valenti in Fright Knight lands?

Why wasn't Thomas Valt with her?

[Formendacil]

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Captain-Major Rillian looked up at Lieutenant Falconensis in unmitigated shock.

"You're resigning your commission?"

"Yes, Captain-Major," replied Jayko Falconensis. "I feel, in fact, that I must."

"But your career!" Sir Rillian wasn't just concerned for Jayko here, but for the Empire. Even two years after BloodVaine, the army was still in what was essentially a rebuilding mode. Numbers were up again, but quality officers were still rare. And Falconensis was promising.

"Seriously, boy, reconsider! You're what... twenty-five? What do you plan to do for the rest of your life? I assure you, you aren't going to find many things that pay better than a career with the Cavaliers!"

"This isn't about money, but about pride!" sniffed Jayko. "How could I face my wife knowing that I am putting off what I am sworn to do?"

"Look, Jayko," Rillian appealed, "I'm sure Estella thinks much the same as I do. Don't go throwing away the best career a man can have for... well, whatever you're throwing it away for. Er... what ARE you throwing it away for?"

"I have served my sworn year in the Cavaliers," said Jayko, "and learned much. It is time that I returned to Barleyburg and reclaimed my seat as Baron."

"Odds are that you'll die, and Estella will be a left a very young widow," said Rillian, forcefully. "Think about it!"

"I have, long and hard," said Jayko. "And Estella and I agree that the only honourable thing for me to do is return to Barleyburg. It's been over two years since I left there with the Old Man during Danner Violess's attack."

Jayko shoved a paper onto Rillian's desk.

"My resignation," he said. "Sorry, sir, but I have a duty to myself and to my people. I'm going home."

"Jayson deTalon controls Castle Talonjay, commands the absolute loyalty of the Talonjain army, and is the darling of Barleyburg!" pointed out Sir Rillian vociferously. "How in the name of the Wooden Duck do you plan to counter that?"

"Any way I can," said Jayko, his voice stubbornly set. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Captain-Major, I still have a couple of shifts to return to at my post. Good day."

"Good day, Lieutenant Falconensis," said Sir Rillian, and shook his head sadly as the young man left the room. The fool was going to get himself killed.

[Formendacil]

Grid: C-17
Location: Port Gordlan-Gordule

"So you want to rebuild your regiment?" Governor Caimlin of Boranis Dracis looked over his desk at his guest, Elbadar. "I wondered when you'd come here asking about that."

"You knew I'd come?" Elbadar looked surprised.

"That regiment was your life. You spent enough time talking about it up on that Chodan-forsaken Dracis Ini to make that clear. Mysterious summons or no mysterious summons, you were going to rebuild that regiment someday. And where else could you do that, but here? Ajaxx isn't showing any signs of losing his grip on power in Dragonar."

Caimlin looked rather pleased with himself.

"Fair enough," admitted Elbadar. "I'm trusting you don't have an issue with that?"

"I know you'll never put your regiment to use against my people," said Caimlin, "seeing as we're the loyal remnant of Lord Void's people. Of course I have no issue. And with Del Grakken on the loose again..." Caimlin shook his head.

"Del Grakken's on the loose again?" Elbadar looked at Caimlin sharply. "What is this?"

"You don't know?" Caimlin was a bit surprised. "He and Ajaxx parted ways. And none too pleasantly either. It seems Ajaxx found out about that sword of his- the magic one he took from your Sorcerer-king."

"Serves him right!" said Elbadar.

"Well, maybe it does," said Caimlin, "but it didn't harm him much. He and his regiment escaped over the Classic border unharmed. His regiments, I should say. Four hundred men bear the green dragon emblem- not the two hundred your regiment originally contained. Which really didn't please Ajaxx at all. Del Grakken, whatever else can be said about him, trained them well. There's no denying they have the discipline of any of the old elite troops of Lord Void's day."

Elbadar growled. "All the more reason to rebuild my regiment. I suppose he's gone mercenary again?"

"Aye," Caimlin nodded. "Our ambassador in Orion -and yes, the Realm of Dragonar-In-Exile has an ambassador- reports that he's looking for a client, and thinks he may have one in Jayko Falconensis, the displaced Baron of Barleyburg. Apparently, Falconensis wants his domain back, and Del Grakken thinks he can get a job."

"With Jayko?" Elbadar looked incredibly skeptical. "He's more an idiot than I thought, if he's going to back that fellow. I've worked around him, he's a spineless worm."

"Maybe that's what Del Grakken likes," shrugged Caimlin. "More port?"

"No, I have a regiment to rebuild. Thank you for your time." And with a crisp military bow, Elbadar marched out of the room, a tense ball of hatred towards Oris Del Grakken burning in his breast.

[Sir Kohran]

I'm going to carry on, like Mike has. I think I owe it to the story to finish it.

"Yes, I'll walk." Mikelen said slowly. Viktor and Santis released him, and they began to move again, following Solesstorn, who was already several meters ahead.

"Oi, wizard!" Viktor called. "Wait for us."

Solesstorn slowed down, but continued to walk. Santis sighed.

They continued into the labyrinth of passageways. Jaythus noticed that the light was growing weaker.

Grid: S-1
Location: Solitaire Island

Several more hours of ceaseless pacing through the black had passed, and Jaythus's stomach was wretching, like some bottomless pit, crying out for food to enter it. But he tightened his belt up beneath his blue armour and continued on stoically - he wasn't going to be weak anymore. The attack with the scorpion had taught him how he truly needed to be. He had almost gotten the lot of them killed with his feebleness - all he had really done was fit the cliche of the cowardly jellybean freakin stories such as the Misfits Of Dametreos. But he had triedto fight - andthatwas how he would go on. He proudly tightened his grip on his Morcian sword. The fate of an entire world lay on Jaythus and his companions' shoulders, and he wasn't going to fail. Or at least, he'd try to not to fail.

He saw the scowl on Viktor's face. The gruff soldier wasn't enjoying this in the least bit, and judging by his red face, seemed to be about to crack under the pressure, when Solesstorn stopped right ahead, several meters in front of them.

"What is it this time, wizard?" Santis called from the back. "And why have you stopped? Letting us walk past you into another scorpion attack, maybe?"

Solesstorn either didn't catch the insult or just ignored it. "Actually, you might think of it as good news."

Storm spoke unexpectedly, still supporting her injured elder with Santis. "You said finding this tyco island was good news. It had better be real good news this time. Mikelen isn't going easy, you know."

"It is good. The path is now turning upwards. We're going somewhere now." the wizard replied, gesturing with his staff.

A virtually collective groan arose from the group behind him.

"What, so where were we going before?" Viktor asked, irritation on his tongue.

"Here." Solesstorn answered, ever practical. "Now let's move. I can assure you, we will be out soon. And you'll thank me, I think."

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-18
Location: Fright Knight countryside.

Merina shivered. The weather, as predicted by William, had not improved. It continued to cold, windy, and rainy, and they had barely seen the sun. Kingdom Isle was little forested and desolate, particularly in this region, north of craggy moors to the south, whither lay Envika Sorgodh.

Merina looked up at Sir Dractor, standing atop the small rise, gazing westward resolutely. William had gone off before dawn to scout the land ahead. He should have been back by now. Sir Yves sat on the ground, below the rise, next to Merina, clearly tired.

"I see him," said Sir Dractor quietly. Merina and Sir Yves pulled themselves to their feet. In the distance, they could see William coming in their direction. Following Sir Dractor, they trod in his direction. William looked exhausted.

"The Verkûl Spring's there, right enough," said William, "maybe a day's journey, maybe two. Follow the ravine down west-southwest, to the high cairn, then go due south a mile or so. Can't miss it. The Spring feeds a small stream, which heads off towards the south coast. Leastaways, that's what the report was in the village north of here."

"What took so long then?" asked Sir Dractor. "We were expecting you back a good three or four hours ago."

"Had to avoid a Fright Knight patrol," replied William. "Seems the local Batlord, Mirakir,'s looking for us. How or why, I don't know- but I'd place a wager that it's the same reason as those brigands, back when we were heading north from Acklarion."

"We'll just have to avoid them as best we can," said Sir Dractor. "And if we happen on a patrol..." Sir Dractor's left hand tightened on the pommel of his sword. "We'll do what we need to."

William leading the way, they fell in place: Sir Dractor following William, Merina beside and a little behind Sir Dractor, and Sir Yves holding the rear. Merina sighed.

"When does life go back to being normal?" she mused aloud.

"It doesn't," said Sir Dractor. "At least, it hasn't for me yet."

[Formendacil]

Grid: J-10
Location: Orion

Jayko Falconensis and his young bride Estella had rooms in an old tenement building in the southeast end of Orion. It was a good neighbourhood, if not particularly opulent. They had but one old maid, who did the cleaning and cooking, and lived quite happily, for all the meanness of their surroundings. It was to this modest address that Brigadier-General Oris Del Grakken, formerly of the Army of Dragonar, brought himself with a business proposition.

Oris Del Grakken remembered but vaguely the light blue-clad young man who had been in the Old Ruins, but what little he remembered was not salutory. He fully expected to be able to run roughshod over the fool, and possibly even end up with himself as Baron of Talonjay. It would be a fine next step in his rebuilding the fortunes of the House of Del Grakken.

But the young man in the blue tunic of an Imperial Cavalier who met him at the door of the apartment was scarcely familiar at all. He held himself with a military pride and looked Del Grakken confidently in the eye.

"Yes?"

"Sir Jayko Falconensis?" Del Grakken said, "you may not remember me. I am Brigadier-General Oris Del Grakken, of Dragonar. We met, now and again, in the campaign against BloodVaine, and in Talistrand, after the Old Ruins."

"Yeah, I remember you," said Jayko, "you're that assistant of Elbadar's- the one who wanted to kill Elwen."

"Jayko, darling," came the voice of Estella from inside the apartment. "Who is that?"

"Just a minute, dearest," Jayko called back. "Yes, I remember you-" Jayko glared darkly at Del Grakken "-what do you want?"

"I hope you can put the past behind you," said Del Grakken, "-I was merely following orders- because I have a business proposition to offer you."

Jayko looked up in interest.

"Oh?"

"Yes," said Del Grakken, "I understand that you're desirous to regain your ancestral homeland from the clutches of Jayson deTalon. How precisely were you planning on doing this?"

"Well, I..." Jayko stammered a bit, "I was figuring on rallying the people, leading a revolt. Something like that."

Del Grakken sneered. "You'd never have a chance against deTalon if you did that. He controls both the army and the castle, and most of the commoners support him. Even if you COULD rally them to your side, he'd slaughter you. No, what you need is an army."

"And you have one?" Jayko said, puzzled. Then the light came on. "I get it... You and Elbadar are looking for money. You have that regiment, right?"

"Elbadar and I parted ways eight months ago," said Del Grakken, coldly, "and not under very good terms. But yes, you have the gist of it. I have, actually, two regiments, built up in Dragonar over the intervening period, and trained to the highest qualifications. And we are looking for work."

Jayko mulled it over for a moment. Four hundred elite heavy infantrymen were hard to pass up. But how to pay them?

"Can I think about it?" he asked.

"Certainly," said Del Grakken, with a supercilious bow. "I can come back tomorrow night to discuss plans."

"No, let's meet at the Gentleman's Sty," said Jayko, referring to the pub down the street. He decided he didn't want this man in his home.

"As you wish," said Del Grakken. "I shall see you at seven, then."

No sooner had Oris Del Grakken left the hall, when Jayko dashed back into the apartment, and gave Estella a quick kiss.

"Be right back, sweetest," he said in a rush, "I'm going to go get Arthur and some of the boys. I need some military business advice."

"Oh, dear!" said Estella. "I don't think Eunice is prepared for guests... I'll go check."

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-18
Location: Fright Knight wilds.

"Captain Drazzuil," Vækadær turned to his deputy, "we've found them."

"How do you want my men deplored, milord?" asked Drazzuil. Twenty Fright Knights stood ready to assist him and Vækadær in apprehending Merina Valenti and her companions.

"Send ten to prevent their escape from behind. The rest of us shall confront them head-on," Vækadær was completely matter of fact. "This doesn't need to be pretty. Once Valenti is dead, we've accomplished our goal. The others can be left, dead or alive."

"Understood, milord."

"Finally..." Vækadær thought to himself. "This has taken far too long."

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-18
Location: Fright Knight wilds.

"Captain Drazzuil," Vækadær turned to his deputy, "we've found them."

"How do you want my men deplored, milord?" asked Drazzuil. Twenty Fright Knights stood ready to assist him and Vækadær in apprehending Merina Valenti and her companions.

"Send ten to prevent their escape from behind. The rest of us shall confront them head-on," Vækadær was completely matter of fact. "This doesn't need to be pretty. Once Valenti is dead, we've accomplished our goal. The others can be left, dead or alive."

"Understood, milord."

"Finally..." Vækadær thought to himself. "This has taken far too long."

"We're surrounded."

It was a flat statement of fact. William barely needed to have said it. Sir Dractor knew it. Sir Yves knew it. Merina knew it.

"How far is it to the Verkûl Spring?" asked Sir Dractor.

"Not even half a mile," said William, with a shake of his head. "You can see the low spot in the plain where it starts."

"Over there?"

"One and the same," nodded William. "So close."

"And yet so far," said Sir Yves. "Is there any way we can avoid a battle?"

"We could break to the north," said Sir Dractor. "They've put no one there- but they know we're desperate to get to that spring. I'd like to know how these brigands know so much about us."

"Maybe they aren't just brigands," said Sir Yves. "They look more like official soldiers than mercenaries. Maybe they work for the person who had Merina's family poisoned."

"It's possible," mused Sir Dractor. "But we can wonder about that AFTER we've dunked Merina in the Spring." He looked hard at the others. "We're going to have to break through them, and while Merina heads to the spring, we need to hold them off."

"Two problems," said William, almost immediately. "There's three of us- four with Merina- and there's twelve between us and the spring, never mind the other ten. Two, Merina be the one that they're after! They won't stop for us, that's for sure. They'll be right after her."

"Then we all fight our way to the spring," said Sir Dractor. "We can't detour another way. They'll just wait here."

"Well, if that's what we're doing, we'd better get on with it," said William. "Here they come."

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-18
Location: Fright Knight wilds.

"Swords out!" shouted Sir Dractor, Dragonsbane leaping from scabbard to the air. Merina, William, and Sir Yves followed suit. "Charge!"

There is a quaint game played by children in parts of Crusader, Classic, and Royal Knight territories known as "Red Rover", in which one team locks arms, and calls someone from the other team to charge them and try and break their ranks. The sight of Sir Dractor and his companions charging the Fright Knights looked something like this, as the Fright Knights hastily attempted to close ranks against the rushing oncomers.

They were too slow. Fully armed knights that they were, Sir Dractor and Sir Yves smashed through the two centre-most Fright Knights, Merina and William following closely in their wake, hacking at the enemies around them. Behind them, the ten other Fright Knights had sped up to join the fight.

But Sir Dractor and his companions weren't stopping. Picking up even more speed, they continued across the plain, heading towards to the Spring of Verkûl.

"Get them!" shouted Drazzuil, even as Vækadær had already rushed with the first couple soldiers after them. The slower Fright Knights rallied to him, and charged.

"Merina!" shouted Sir Dractor. "Get to that well! Yves, William! Follow her, and defend her closer to the water!"

"What about you?" Merina shouted back.

"I'll hold them off here!" Sir Dractor replied, quietly. Merina couldn't hear him, but his intent was clear.

Sword and shield ready, Sir Dractor narrowed his gaze at the Fright Knights, and charged back at them. This was an all-too-familiar role to the big knight.

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-18
Location: Fright Knight wilds.

"I'll hold them off here!" Sir Dractor replied, quietly. Merina couldn't hear him, but his intent was clear.

Sword and shield ready, Sir Dractor narrowed his gaze at the Fright Knights, and charged back at them. This was an all-too-familiar role to the big knight.

Sir Dractor's tumultuous crash into the Fright Knight forces certainly bought Merina and the others some time. It also bought a few of the Fright Knights some excruciating pain. And it gave Vækadær reason to pause.

This was the first man, Vækadær noted clinically as Sir Dractor began to fell his men, who could possibly match him in combat- a situation Vækadær had not found himself in for fifteen years. His curiosity was piqued. Prudence dictated that he ought to leave him men to occupy Dractor while he dispatched Valenti, but Vækadær found himself interested to see which of them would best the other. Besides... Dractor was going through his men at an alarming rate.

"Drazzuil!" he ordered the captain, "leave him to me. See to it that the girl is taken care of!"

Drazzuil? Sir Dractor pondered. Where had he heard that name before?

But Sir Dractor didn't ponder long, for Vækadær had come at him, and Sir Dractor was fighting as he hadn't fought since he'd faced the Sorcerer-King in the Old Ruins: great warrior to great warrior. Dragonsbane clashed against Cuthmort, Vækadær's enchanted blade.

It was an even match, despite Sir Dractor's greater breadth (they were of even height) and possession of armour. The longer reach of his sword gave him a slight advantage, but as the fight progressed, he began to suspect that Vækadær was the greater swordsman.

This rankled. Sir Dractor was no shoddy warrior. He'd trained from childhood in the arts of war, and had thirty years practice, nearly his whole life, in war and battle. His body had been honed from it's natural strength into a weapon incomparable. His reflexes, instincts, and speed were those of a man who knew battle as a lover. His armour, the last fruit of Harold Brakespear's armoury was worthy of a king.

And yet...

He was on the verge of losing.

Though his mind should not have had the opportunity to concentrate on anything other than battle, in the midst of duelling, the light dawned:

Drazzuil had been the name of the Fright Knight who had been in Hemmerington. He had been the one who had attacked Merina, and stolen Brakespear's papers. He was the one Thomas and Merina had followed as far as Chevraport.

So not only was this Vækadær out for Merina's blood (and until now, Sir Dractor had assumed some petty feud with the Valentis at the heart of the attacks), but he had also wanted the papers of Augustus Alexander Smith.

Though his mind leapt immediately back to the battle at hand, a corner of Sir Dractor realized, as he parried yet another blow, that they had gotten mixed up in something much more serious.

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-18
Location: Fright Knight wilds.

Merina, William, and Sir Yves tore towards the Verkûl Spring, Sir Dractor temporarily holding off the Fright Knights. But not for long. As Sir Dractor got involved with Vækadær, the rest of the Fright Knights were free to continue after them.

Running as fast as they might, Merina and her companions strove valiantly to maintain their lead, but it seemed that it was shrinking slowly.

"Merina!" shouted William, "we'll hold them off as best we can! Don't STOP!"

Merina didn't even signal her understanding, but just kept running, urgency speeding her on fast. Behind her, she could hear the clash of steel as Sir Yves threw his fully-armoured self at the Fright Knights, giving William precious seconds to string his longbow, the twang of which soon joined the sounds of clashing metal.

But Merina sped on. There was no surety that two men could hold off fifteen. Or even a reason to hope so. All she COULD hope was that they would slow down the Fright Knights who were after her.

Merina reached the spring almost before she realized it, out of breath and panting hard. The spring bubbled up from a low point in the stony ground, filling a pool, which trickled away southwards as a small creek.

"Caught you!"

Merina whirled around to see two Fright Knights. One was the Fright Knight captain she'd fought in Hemmerington- Drazzuil.

"Just like old times," Drazzuil stepped forward, past the other soldier. "Let's finished what we started back in that forsaken Dark Forest village. Just you and me, wench!"

Merina raised her brother's sword coldly. She'd been a good match for Drazzuil in Hemmerington, when she'd been sick and weak. She felt no fear now, only anger.

"Leave her to me," Drazzuil ordered the other soldier. And with a cold deliberation, he advanced on Merina.

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-18
Location: Fright Knight wilds.

Merina raised her brother's sword coldly. She'd been a good match for Drazzuil in Hemmerington, when she'd been sick and weak. She felt no fear now, only anger.

"Leave her to me," Drazzuil ordered the other soldier. And with a cold deliberation, he advanced on Merina.

"What's the matter, wench?" sneered Drazzuil in question as Merina backed away slightly. "Scared? You should be."

"Cautious," said Merina coldly. "Which is what you should be."

"I bested you once, wench, and I'll do it again," said Drazzuil. "And I'll make sure to finish the job this time. If I'd've known it you were the one Lord Vækadær was after..."

"So that's his name," remarked Merina. "We were wondering." Their blades crossed, steel ringing shrill.

"You can know anything you want," said Drazzuil, "cause you'll be taking it all to the grave, quite soon."

"Funny," noted Merina, "but it usually doesn't work out that way in the fairy tales. People usually escape- with knowledge that your Lord Vækadær wouldn't like us to have."

"This isn't a fairy tale, wench, and you're no princess either," replied Drazzuil, as he pressed in.

"In that case," said Merina, calmly, parrying his thrusts with a cool determination, "tell me why Lord Vækadær wants me dead."

"Don't know," said Drazzuil with a hint of a shrug, "only Lord Bartavlo knows, if anybody."

"So there's a Lord Bartavlo involved too," said Merina, with a pleased air. "Is he related to Lord Vækadær?"

Drazzuil laughed. "No, he's Lord Vækadær's assistant. And that's all that I'm going to tell you."

"Oh come on," said Merina, laughing, and enraging Drazzuil, "if I am going to be dead in a few minutes, what have you to lose? Or are you starting to doubt that?"

"Not at all!" snarled Drazzuil through gritted teeth. He pressed Merina harder, but with less care. She had but to push him a little farther, and she'd be able to get under his guard. Behind Drazzuil, the other Fright Knight appeared to have noticed the same thing, and he started to move.

"Leave her to me!" thundered Drazzuil, but in focussing his attention on the soldier, he left Merina unwatched for a moment, which she used to her advantage, stabbing Drazzuil hard in the abdomen. He fell to the ground, dropping his weapons, clutching his stomach. Merina spun to meet the other Fright Knight, who was not, it turned out, Drazzuil's equal. Merina felled him too.

"Merina!" William's voice cried from across the plain. "Get in the water! We need to go!"

Heedless of her skirt, of her sword, or anything she was carrying or wearing, Merina jumped into the pool, sinking down the five feet or so to it's bottom, letting herself be immersed in it's cool, clean waters.

~~~~~~~~~~

In Drullen Bell, miles upon miles away, Thomas Valt woke sweating from his late afternoon nap. He was still ill, but something had changed.

[Formendacil]

The Classic-Castle Roleplay is continued in this thread.

~Michael A. Joosten - Gaming Moderator~