Classic-Castle Roleplay: January

[Formendacil]

Grid: E-10
Location: Port Jozef

The pirate-samurai led the way down to the wharf and onto a scow of oriental design. Once inside the cabin, he quickly turned to business.

“Now,” he began, but Elbadar interrupted.

“Wait a moment! Where's Gib?”

"Confound it," said Quorandis, more resignedly than angrily. "Another delay is that last thing I want. Did something happen to him?"

"I think he slipped off," said Elbadar. "You'll notice that his animals are gone too. I think we'd have heard if he was in any danger. Do you want to go look for him?"

Quorandis thought it over.

"No," he said. "Not now, anyway. I think he might want to go his own way. We can keep any eye out for him between now and departure. We won't be sailing tonight, anyway."

"I suppose you're right," said Elbadar. "But I feel bad just disappearing. Still, he knows what we're up to. Now, what were you about to say about Kendo?"

[Commander Redbeard]

Location: Forestmen/Crusader border

Anardan felt the ground collapse beneath him, and his hands gave way when the sled's leadropes he held snapped. He fell about five feet when, with a crunch, he smashed through a pile of ice and brittle wood. Aros's rope snapped also, and he fell almost on top of him. They lay there, stunned, while Shainya and Reno scrabbled out of the hole on their ropes, Bjarn struggling to retain hold on his. The rope pulled out of his hand, and slid down the side to land hard on the ground. The three lay stunned for several more moments, surrounded by ice and snow, while small avalanches of snow, ice, and dirt showered down on them. Reno, who had managed to cling onto his rope and climb out, peered over the edge of the hole.

"Are you alright?"

Bjarn struggled upright and called up to him:

"We're OK, it's only a few feet. They're's a layer of snow down here... What is this?"

Bjarn's hand, when he pulled it out of the snow, was covered by a thick black dust. Anardan had noticed the same thing.

"This is soot!"

All around the bottom of the pit, the scattered remains of charred pine boards and rafters lay strewn over a bed of charcoal and ash covered by a thin layer of snow. Anardan struggled upright, the charcoal crunching under his feet. He went to the wall near Bjarn, where his sliding descent had left a series of scuff marks on the blackened sides of the pit. Anardan took a bit of cloth and scraped away some more of the soot, revealing a heat-blackened stone wall.

"This was a building."

Aros got up from his pile of rubble and started to explore the foundation. He yelped in surprise as he stepped on something sharp, then reached down and pulled a scuffed sword from the debris.

"What have you got there?"

Anardan limped over to him, curious about his discovery.

"A sword... Is this anyone's?"

Aros held up the blade and showed it to the others, who shook their heads. Anardan took the sword and studied the hilt carefully.

"This is Crusader make, I've seen one before;"

Anardan mused.

"The sword of a Captain..."

Anardan returned the sword and looked around, a look of recognition coming onto his face.

"This was the guard post that stood at the Crusader border. I passed here with the trading party only several weeks ago, it was standing then."

Reno and Voolmark took new ropes out of the sled and hauled the three up, then pulled the sled onto solid ground. The soot-blackened hole stood like a gash in the unmarred white of the snow-covered ground, the broken beams protruding from the ash like spears thrown by giants. Anardan shuddered.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Anardan returned the sword and looked around, a look of recognition coming onto his face.

"This was the guard post that stood at the Crusader border. I passed here with the trading party only several weeks ago, it was standing then."

Reno and Voolmark took new ropes out of the sled and hauled the three up, then pulled the sled onto solid ground. The soot-blackened hole stood like a gash in the unmarred white of the snow-covered ground, the broken beams protruding from the ash like spears thrown by giants. Anardan shuddered.

"Is everyone alright?" queried Bjarn, wiping soot of his hands.

"No!" hissed Reno, clutching his foot, "I twisted my ankle when I fell! I just made it worse when I scrambled out of the way..."

"Tyco!" muttered Sir Dractor under his breath, "We'll just have to bind it up...we can't remove your boot and socks in this cold..."

As Sir Dractor scrambled about looking for a suitable piece of wood to use as a brace, Aros glanced at Shainya.

"Shainya, what's wrong? Are you hurt as well?" he asked.

Shainya shook her head. Her face was white as the snow around them and she was shaking, but not from cold.

"This isn't a Crusader guardpost..." she mumured, "This is Olgendale..."

"What?"

Bjarn turned back from where he had been examining the sled.

"This was my home..." Shainya sighed, a tear slipping down her cheek, "Before the Dragon Masters burnt it down..."

"Oh."

Reno crawled over to Shainya and held her tight as Sir Dractor bound a cord of wood to his leg.

"My whole family was killed..." cried Shainya, "I survived by falling down a well...like what happened here..."

"But that was a house..." corrected Anardan.

"Hush." Bjarn nudged the Forestman Captain, "Let her weep. Long has she held that grief within. Come, and help me repait this sled. It's front runners have snapped..."

[forester3291]

"But that was a house..." corrected Anardan.

"Hush." Bjarn nudged the Forestman Captain, "Let her weep. Long has she held that grief within. Come, and help me repait this sled. It's front runners have snapped..."

While Anardan helped Bjarn with the sled Voolmark saw to Reno's leg.

"Sir Dractor is right." Said Voolmark with a grim face. "We can't remove your boots. But there is another earth spell that I can conjure up, it should help.”

With that Voolmark mumbled a few words and his hands began to glow with a pale orange light. He placed his hands on Reno’s ankle, sending a warm sensation through his ankle and throughout his whole leg.

“Thanks.” Smiled Reno “My ankle feels better already.”

“You’re welcome. I think you’ll still need a splint though. Ahh…here comes your brother with a small pair of planks.”

Voolmark helped Aros tie the planks, one on either side of Reno’s ankle. Then Reno tried to stand. He winced just a little but he said he would be fine. He then hobbled over to Shainya and gave her a peck on the cheek. She smiled slightly but the pain was still evident.

“Aren't they the prettiest couple?” Said Sir Dractor with a slight smile.

“Yes indeed, yes indeed.” Said Voolmark, returning with a beaming grin.


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

Grid M-8

Location: Back at Drullen Bell Keep



There had been heavy snowfall off and on for three days now and Fraun was getting tired of just sitting around. He should have gone with the company, but something had held him back. It was probably the fact that he still hadn’t confronted Frayla. But there were no feelings between him and her so why did he think there were? He began to think being cooped up in the boring old keep had made him a bit crazy so he got up from the chair he had been lounging in and went off to find Radjar. Maybe they could play cards with Rosa or something.

He found the two outside, with some winter garments and exchanging fistfuls of snow in each other’s faces. He suddenly thought of something to stir up some excitement. He quickly returned to his room, put on some boots and a warm jacket and exited the keep from the back door. He crept along the left side and picked up a handful of snow and formed it into a solid snowball. With a flash of green and black Fraun jumped out into the open and fired a shot right at Radjar. He caught him square in the back and Radjar jerked with surprise. Rosa giggled with excitement and planted a well-aimed ball of snow right in Radjar’s face. Fraun began picking up another wad of snow and was about to throw it when another snowball came out from the bushes and hit him right in the forehead. He looked around and saw a slim figure jump out from behind a big Oak tree and throw another snowball at him. Fraun was prepared this time though and blocked it with his gloved hand and threw his snowball right at the figure. He gasped when he noticed it was…Frayla!

[lemon_squeezer2]

Nearly an hour later, the Forestman emissary exited the throne room. Karl eyed him with suspicion, but the woodlander seemed to ignore him. The Falcon ambassador sighed quietly, relaxing himself somewhat in the richly carve mahogany chair. There were several such chairs artfully stretching down the short hall which served as a sort of reception room for the palace. At the end stood two large doors of the same wood, set with carvings filled with gold, depicting important events in Legolander history. It was quite impressive really, considering that this portion of the palace had been in shambles less than two months before. Flanking the entrance were two soldiers wearing the colors of the palace guard.

A short time later, the doors opened and another soldier came out. Looking at Karl, he spoke. “The Emperor will see you now. Follow me.”
Getting up, Karl complied and followed the man into the throne room. Like the rest of the place, the walls were a magnificent yellow. In the center there was a throne – vacant. Directly below the elevated platform was a rectangular table with the emperor sitting at its head. Looking up, the man stared deeply into Karl’s eyes for a moment. Unlike the fine features that many Legolanders possessed, the emperor’s features seemed as if they were carved from a rock, then weathered by years of trials and setbacks. His hair was gray, tinged with hints of yellow and his voice matched his characteristics perfectly, it was cold, but not harsh with a somewhat subdued Legolander accent.
“Please, sit down. I am glad that you have come.”
Karl complied, easing himself into the opposite chair.
The emperor continued. “You must realize that our countries are still at war. I have received news that Falconis XVIII has died and I do hope matters can be resolved.”
“As do I your highness. I have brought with me a letter from Dur – our new king, Falconis XIX. They outline the terms we are willing to accept.” Karl caught himself mid-sentence. The Legolander ruler did not seem to notice.
“Thank you then. As you undoubtedly noticed, a Forestman dignitary had an audience with me a short time ago. For the sake of convenience, a conference could be scheduled between all the countries that have been affected by this most recent an unfortunate war. It could also resolve some several important points that have been left unsettled.”
“The Falcon nation would be happy to comply.”
“Good. I will summon you when all is ready.”

It was nearly a month later now and not three, but seven representatives sat around the same table. Karl felt uncomfortable and somewhat outweighed. There was himself, representing the Black Falcons, a Forestman ambassador - different from the one he had encountered earlier, Sirlon, the Black Knight king, the Legolander emperor, a emissary from the Royal Knights, and a representative from the Crusaders who had arrived just the night before. However, to Karl, the most astonishing character there was a higher ranking noble with the bull crest on his shirt.

Karl tightened up inside. This was not was he was expecting a month ago.

[Formendacil]

Grid: E-10
Location: Port Jozef

"I suppose you're right," said Elbadar. "But I feel bad just disappearing. Still, he knows what we're up to. Now, what were you about to say about Kendo?"

"What do you think about him?" asked Quorandis. "Personally, I don't trust him."

"I've met him," said Elbadar, slowly, "although he seems to have forgotten. The ship he attacked, the one that decimated his fleet, was the Bombardier, with the Sorceror-king on board."

"That explains a bit," said Quorandis. "The question though is do you think we're safe enough in his hands?"

"I've no doubt that he has his own plans for getting money out of us," said Elbadar, "but I don't think that it isn't anything we can't avoid or pay for. Besides, I doubt we'll find another vessel willing to leave port for Anka Dolour. Even going south, the weather is less than pleasant."

"Exactly what I was thinking," said Quorandis with a frown. "In that case, I guess we have no choice. I intend to meet this Yuri Firetresses as soon as I can, and let him know what I think about his trade."

"And rescue Elwen in the process."

"That goes without saying," smiled Quorandis. "I guess we're going to chance it with this Kendo, then?"

"Aye. I guess so," said Elbadar, a little heavily.

"Good," said Kendo when they told him. "We sail at the crack of dawn."

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

While Anardan helped Bjarn with the sled Voolmark saw to Reno's leg.

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

“Yes indeed, yes indeed.” Said Voolmark, returning with a beaming grin.

L-9

The sentimental moment was broken by a colorful swear from Bjarn.

"Megabloken son of a bley brick!"

Anardan murmured an agreement.

"What happened?" queried Voolmark.

"It's so frigid the tyco hammer snapped." sword Bjarn, throwing the useless shaft of wood into the snow but keeping the head.

"The sled will run, but if it takes another beating it will fall apart..." said Anardan.

"Well, then, let's get moving," replied Voolmark, "I'll try to use my Earth Magic to sense dangers ahead, but I can't promise anything."

They all nodded and set out, skirting the hole and moving away from the dead village of Olgendale. They were slowed down even more, for Voolmark's probing, the rickety sled, and Reno's ankle slowed them down greatly.

We'll be lucky to get to the Yellow Castle by March... grumbled Bjarn.

[Commander Redbeard]

[quote="Lord_Of_The_LEGOWe'll be lucky to get to the Yellow Castle by March... grumbled Bjarn.[/quote]

Before the party had gone five miles, the damaged sled struck a rock and fell to pieces. Anardan walked among the wreckage, muttering to himself;

"Tyco. The best thing we can get out of this now is a good fire. We might as well stop now, we need to try to divide up these supplies;"

He nodded to the mound of leather-wrapped packages piled on the shattered sled.

"There's alot of it, we may have to leave some behind."

The eight companions dragged the supplies and the remains of the sled under the cover of some nearby hemlocks, where Voolmark melted a patch of snow to build a fire.

"I still can't believe I missed that rock."

Bjarn picked up an axe and took apart the remains of the sled, tossing the undamaged boards to Anardan and giving the rest to Voolmark for the fire. Anardan picked up several planks, then settled down with a bag of tools and some rope to try to rebuild a smaller sledge. He cursed as the nail slipped through his clumsy leather glove, then finally took it off.

Within half an hour, he pieced together a rough sled from the remains of the old one, then winced as the fire stung his frostbitten hands.

"Megablox, it's cold out here. We'll make one fully functional person together, Reno, you can't use your foot and I can't use my hands."

Shainya and Reno tested out the sled, dragging it around the small circle of light made by the fire.

"It's sturdy enough, but it'll only hold about half of our stuff."

The whole group looked toward the supply pile, now seeming much heavier then they had imagined it before. They would be facing heavy loads tomorrow unless they left some behind.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

G-7

It was a dreary day in Falconis City. Due to the god of a snowstorm that blanketed the entire uppor half of Dametreos, life had ground to a standstill at the Black Falcon capital. The chilling winds and deep snow made travel nearly impossible, forcing everyone inside their homes. Cellars were scoured and cubboards emptied until some of the less fortunate persons had to slaughter prized horses just to stay alive.

"This is a buch of bloody megabloks. As soon as this clears, I'm moving back to Bull Isle."

The Lone Falcon, wrapped in a worn woolen black and scribbling in a book, smiled at Barbod's remark.

"Ah yes...Bull Isle...land of palm trees, roasted boars and saucy Bull wenches..." continued Barbod, grinning through his beard and swigging another pint of beer. After wiping his mouth, the Bull King glaced over to his old Falcon friend.

"What are you writing, Lone Falcon?"

The Lone Falcon dipped his pen into the tiny inkwell and continued writing in a fine, precice script.

"I am chronicling my past comings and goings."

"Of our meeting, my rise to power and the BloodVaine epic?" pressed Barbod.

The Lone Falcon shook his head.

"No, before that, when I was a young and brash knight. One day I had drunk myself stupor after a night of raucus parting. When I awoke...I found myself in a sufficating prison. Once I was free, I...well...I'll just let you read it when I'm finished..."

Barbod leaned over and looked at the top of the scroll.

"The Lone Falcon Chronicles by Nathan Wells," he read aloud, "funny penname, that is, Nathan Wells..." Barbod commented.

The Lone Falcon smiled. "I thought it fit. Perhaps some day someone will find these scraps of parchment when I am long gone and display them to future generations."

Barbod smiled, then grabbed a sheet of parchment himself and began scribbling. The Lone Falcon glanced up from his own work and looked at the title Barbod had written across the top of the page.

"The Tales Of Barbod by Brian Gibbons..." read the Lone Falcon outloud, "Brian Gibbons?"

Bjarn smiled back. "It seemed to fit."

On the other side of the room, Dordrot was being pounded into the ground by Vanderdious. The cunning master of masks had elimenated the Bull's duos of knights, bishops and rooks and was now preying upon Dordrot's five remaining pawns.

"Why don't ye just take my king and be done with it?" snapped Dordrot as Vanderdious's queen devoured another puny pawn.

"I just did." smirked the Falcon, "Check, and checkmate."

"You bloody Falcon!" harrumphed Dordrot, though he meant it in jest, "I'm no good at mind games...now just give me a good spear and moving target..."

"Will darts do?" quipped Freena, who was whittling away with her curved knive. She tossed Dordrot a sharp stick.

"They're crude, but they'll have to do...jus' toss 'em into that..." she indicated a round yellow target that obviously had been made by Forestmen.

Eager to doing something physical, Dordrot threw the dart. Freena grunted in approval. "Not bad shot, Dordrot, though it would have been quite amusing if you had landed a 'Bull's eye!"

She snorted with laughter and tossed her own dart. It landed quite near Dordrot's.

"Nice!" complimented Dordrot.

He threw another, then Freena threw her second. Soon the dart match ended in a draw.

"You've something to be proud of, Dordrot," commented the Lone Falcon from his desk, "No one's tied Freena at darts, or anything involving a target, let alone beating her."

"A pity this room 'tis too small for spear-throwing," grinned Dordrot, "I'd like to see where my spear-throwing stands next to the champ. Fraun Jerlock said I was the best he had ever seen."

Freena stretched her taught features into a warm smile and tossed back her long dirty-blone hair with a flick of her head.

"Once this snow melts, it's a date." she said.

[lemon_squeezer2]

Durlass looked out his second story window. It had been snowing for over a week now and things showed no sighns of letting up. At first there had been orders for crews of soldiers to clear the main streets, but after two days of that, it was clear that they couln't keep up. Now it had reached nearly five feet in areas, making travel difficult. Last autumn's harvest had been good, but there was no effective way of distributing it. Trade came to a standstill, forcing Durlass to declare a "national emergency". This in effect turned things to martial law. Still, a declaration on some paper did not change the weather. People reamained cooped up in their houses and soldiers put up every excuse to remain in their barracks.

And all this was only one of Durlass' difficulties!

On the new Falcon/Royal Knight border, things had come to a dead stop. The Falcon troops had made temporary camps, but if this weather continued, it might become their permanent ones.

There was no news of Karl.

And there was no word on what had happened to the 1st fleet.


A little over a mile away, Martin relaxed in his armchair with another cup of tea. Durlass had bungled things almost beyond his wildest expectations. Whenever a disaster of national proportions occurs, human nature causes people to seek out a scapegoat. So far Martin had three - no four charges against Durlass. For one, he had exceeded his power. Unlike other countries, the Falcon Empire dictated that the king was king - no matter what his age. Legally, there was no such thing as a regent. Secondly, Durlass had bungled military afffairs, allowing the Royal Knight province to be retaken. Thirdly, Dulass had failed to bring about a peace. He was too stubborn to concede - even if just a bit. And finally, Durlass had not managed things well at home. People were starting to starve, even as government stores of food sat there, with no proper way to distribte it.

Durlass was a fool. All Martin had to do was to wait just a bit longer...

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"It's sturdy enough, but it'll only hold about half of our stuff."

The whole group looked toward the supply pile, now seeming much heavier then they had imagined it before. They would be facing heavy loads tomorrow unless they left some behind.

L-9

Ironically, the fellowship moved faster when they started out the next morning, for the tiny sled didn't put up half as much as a fight as the larger, bulkier sled did. Also, Sir Dractor had used the remaining bits of wood and an unravaled blanket to contruct eight pairs of snow shoes, so instead of plowing through the snow they simply walked on top of it. However, the walking in them took some time getting used to, and there were several hilarious moments when one person or another would fall face first when they tripped over their own feet.

They all had large packs strapped to their backs, even little Luxus, who bravely continued on dispite sore legs and back. Reno had the lightest pack, for his ankle still ached painfully.

The entire day Bjarn, Reno, Aros, Luxus, Shainya, Voolmark, Sir Dractor and Anardan continued south, not talking, simply walking onward. There would be plenty of time to talk when they reached the Yellow Castle. Little did they know what dangers will still ahead.

[Robin Hood]

Grid: J-10
Location: Yellow Castle

Sir Theodore step into the Yellow Castle and brushed snow from his traveling cloak. As soon as a lull in the storm had come, he had, per orders, set out for Orion to let the Emperor know what had happened.

An aid walked over and inquired as to who he was. Upon learning, the aid showed him to a room, informing the knight that he would get an audiance with the Emperor as soon as possible.

Theodore fell into his bed and at once went to sleep. When he awoke the next morning he sought out some food and drink. He arrived at a small room were several officals were being served lunch. The knight sat down at a table and was served some cold meat, bread and wine. He noticed a falcon sitting in a corner. When the servant came to refill his goblet Theodore ask, "who is that falcon."

The servant replied, "he was sent by the Falcon king to try to make peace." But before he could inquire futher a different servant walked over to him and told him that the Emperor had called a meeting of all the countrys representatives that were in the Castle at the moment.

Sir Theodore rose, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the falcon had also risen.


******

Later, seated around a table, the seven representatives began to talk. Inwardly, Theodore cursed that he had not had a chance to see the Emperor before. Well, it certainally promised to be an interesting meeting.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Later, seated around a table, the seven representatives began to talk. Inwardly, Theodore cursed that he had not had a chance to see the Emperor before. Well, it certainly promised to be an interesting meeting.

J-10
Yellow Castle Council room

Theodore's opinion of the meeting was shared by Mellaina Phylla, the Forestmen ambassador. She had been sent down by Lord Bjarn literally minutes after Gonderin had returned from his own conference with the Classic Emperor, which had been a lucky move. If she had waited any longer, the snowstorm would have prevented her from traveling south and might have even swallowed her up.

She was honored and pleased by Lord Bjarn's choice to send her as the Forestmen ambassador, but she knew she was woefully inexperienced. She had risen up the ranks of the Forestmen dizzyingly fast during BloodVaine epic, when her superiors were slaughtered by BloodVaine and the demon Aezezal. This was her first council with other factions, and inwardly she was shaking head to toe. Outwardly, she seem cool and calm.

Mellaina was a master of emotions, and of words. She could debate any topic with any of her friends or fellow councils and almost always win. She only hoped her skill wouldn't abandon her now, when it was so vital.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

O-22

Highsteer Keep, Bull Isle

Gerrik twiddled his thumbs. Then he chewed his nails. Then he tapped his foot. Then he sighed, and began to recount the number of stones embedded in the floor of the throne room of Highsteer Keep, just in case his last count of 14,958,734 was wrong.

Half an hour and 2,989 stones later, Gerrik swore and stood. He had had enough, megabloks it!

"I hate islands!" muttered Gerrik under his breath, marching down a hall and pounding on a door.

"Lovana, are you in there?" he snapped.

"Lord Gerrik? I'll be a moment..."

There was a shuffling of papers, and then the door opened, revealing a female Bull clad in leather breeches and a simple tan tunic with the Bull insigna stitched on it.

"Don't call me lord..." sighed Gerrik, "You know I don't like that..."

"It is my duty."

"As you tyco wish...anyway, I want you to send word to the harbormaster to prepage a vessal for a voyage."

"Whatever for, Lord Gerrik?"

Gerrik's neck muscles tightened. Lovana has always been a stubborn female, fiecely loyal to the Bulls, but not as much so to Lord Barbod. The Bull King and she had quarreled over many things, chilling the relationship between them. With Lord Barbod gone and assumed to be dead, she had limply turned to Gerrik as the new leader, as had many of the other Bulls. Gerrik still firmly beleived Barbod lived, but after nearly four months without any word from the Rose Marie, Bull's Revenge, Barbarian Blood and Fleetwood, hope was begining to turn stale.

"I'm going to send out a ship to look for Lord Barbod and the rest of the Bulls."

"What?"

"You heard me Lovana. Some may be content you wallow in ignorance and eat pineapples and boars in the sun, but I'm not."

Lovana glowered. "Are you implying --"

"I am not implying anything. Now please do as I bid."

Lovana gave Gerrik one last glare and turned, head high, and left.

Later, a single Bull made his way up narrow, winding corridor and entered the throne room. The figure bowed before Gerrik.

"You sent for me?"

Gerrik stood and smiled.

"Don't be so formal, Jarrel, old friend. I have a favor to ask of you."

Jarrel stood and smiled back. "What is it?"

"Do you have some experience with sailing?" asked Gerrik.

Jerral nodded. "Some. I was a bosun on the Black Falcon merchant sloop An Apple For All when I was still undercover and working with the Lone Falcon."

"Good, I wish for you to captain our ship the King Bardiar and go in search of news of Lord Barbod and the crews of the four aid ships that went north to the Forestdwellers."

Jerral nodded. "As you wish. What shall I do when I find them?"

Gerrik nodded in approval. "Good, when, not if. You still have hope then?"

Jerral nodded. "Some of us do. Many long time residents of Bull Isle think Lord Barbod is dead, but the ones who traveled and fought with him still believe."

"Then all is not lost...I had feared all the Bulls had dismissed their very king."

"They were kingless for so long...and many didn't have time to get used to Lord Barbod when he did arrive before he left again. It is expected that they would forget so easily." consoled Jerral.

"I know..." sighed Gerrik, "Alright Jerral, you know what to do. Lovana's alerted the harbormaster, and the preperation of the King Bardiar has already begun. You should be ready to go by tomorrow. Good luck, my friend."

They embraced and pounded each other on the back, as was the Bull custom. As they parted, Jerral said, "I'll find Lord Barbod, and the rest of them, one way or another. I promise. A Bull Is Always Charging!"

As Jerral left the room, Gerrik sank back into the hard throne and repeated the words softly to himself.

"A Bull Is Always Charging..."

[The Green Knight]

"Good," said Kendo when they told him. "We sail at the crack of dawn."

Kendo showed his passengers where they would be sleeping and then left them to do as they pleased. It was then that Gib appeared.

“Gib!” Elbadar said alarmed. “Where were you?”

“Well, I was leaving. I still am, I guess. I wish I could stay and help. Especially after what you've done for me. Not that I've really been of any help to you. But well, I have my own mission here, and a trip to the Black Knight isles won't help me accomplish it.”

There was a pause, and Bernard spoke. “Well, we understand Gib. Good luck on your road. Perhaps we'll meet again if the fates allow.”

Gib sighed. “I only wish I could somehow repay you. Wait a moment! Here, take this.”

“Your water flask?” asked Elbadar, confused.

“Um, look inside. It's a mushroom I found in the caves beneath the Neverwood. Glows in the dark. It's still alive I think, although I suppose you won't likely find any use for it. Anyway I'd better get going. Good luck.”

So, the men said their final goodbyes and parted company.