Grid: M-7 Loc: Delvardan Gard Outskirts.
ASTRIDE his horse, Radjar was dressed in his finest, the samurai armor on his chest, and a plumed helmet on his head. Delvardan Gard as a city of towers made from majestic toweroaks, thick, huge trees that were tunneled out over hundreds of years by the ancient and presumed extinct Elves. The entire city was a testament to the elegance and beauty of nature, and Radjar was suddenly reminde dhow, though the same, the cultures of his land and Bjarn's were so different. Trevelayn looked despairingly at his chipped, rusted saber.
"Bloody Meph," he moaned, "I sure hope that this tree-place has got a weapon shop."
The Dark Forest convoy strode through the gates. The swamp was emerald green, and the setting sun cast an orange glow over the lush waters. The men filed intot he boats, elegant, white flatboats. Soon, the ship-like facade of Drullen Bell Keep appeared, surrounded by towering trees. The ancient fortress was overgrown with lushness, ramifications of greenery rather than stone.
The men docked and jumped out onto a beautiful stairway carved out of solid rock. The gates were heavy, adorned with stolen Crusader gold, and showing nary any sign of wear.
"This is it," Radjar said. "Ancient monument of Sarra Elkhorn, warrior queen of the Foresters."
The gates threw open to reveal a magnificent hall. Pikemen awaiting the arrival of Radjar lined the lincoln green carpet, giving him the sign of the Elk. Radjar went in, into the throne room. The throne was absent, yet emissaries from allied kingdoms lined the halls, talking amongst eachother. A heavyset Forester, jeweled pendant on his neck and a glistening suit of scale mail adorning his breast, stepped forward. He wore the traditional cap of the Forestmen.
"King Radjar Kath, of Hemlock Shire?"
"Yes, sir?" Radjar replied.
"Jythemite Gladwheel, the Tree-Guard's steward. You have come to see the leader, have you not?"
Gladwheel's face was straight and stern-looking. Curly black locks fell below his shoulders, and he had a striaght black beard. He stood with his chest out.
"Yes, where might I find him?"
"Your Highness, he has just left Council with the League. You may find him in the Council hall, speaking with the Ranger steward, Gonderin."
Gonderin. Rajdar had heard the name dropped by Fraun several times. Fraun himself had gone with Voolmark and Dordrot to Cesphas in the North, to settle there.
"Thank you, Steward of the Guard. Will you lead me there?"
"It would be an honor, King Kath."
In the Council chamber, Gonderin and Bjarn stood speaking of political matters. Radjar walked in unannounced.
"Congratulations, Bjarn!" yelled Radjar.
Bjarn turned around.
"So this is Radjar Kath. A fine ruler you've made, lad."
Radjar beamed embarassedly.
"Well, you compliment me, but you yourself, sire..."
"Radjar, I appreciate your support. I trust you will make a good stay here?"
"Erm, well, I do hope so..." Radjar said awkwardly.
"Come this way. Your quarters will be next to Rosa and Shainya's... Fit for a king!"
As they walked down the hallway, Barbod the Bull was just walking out of the room.
"Everything all right, Barbod?"
"Of course Bjarn. I told you I would make things right."
Radjar passed the room, two women were inside. One's eyes were tear-streaked, the other was sitting on one of the beds.
"Er, what seems to be the problem, milady?" Radjar asked.
"Oh, nothing, nothing at all," sobbed the bright-haired woman. "Who might you be?"
"Ummm..." Radjar paused.
The dark haired woman rose up. She looked irritated at his presence.
"Are you at a loss for words, sire, or are you simply named Um?" she quipped in a heavy Crusader accent.
"Radjar Kath, miladies. Radjar Kath."
Bjarn chuckled. "Be wise now, ladies, this fellow can swipe 'eads of a Werewolf and run a kingdom at the same time. Radjar smiled weakly.
"Alright Radjar, enjoy your stay. Breakfast first thing... We'll have a full course in your honor. Pleasure for you to be here."
"Alright Kif, let's show these freaks what a bloated, runaway military budget can do"