Classic-Castle Roleplay: March 2005

[Sir Drake]

Radjar lifted the boat together with some other soldiers and brought it to the catacombs, to preserve Strider's body long enough so Swift could be on Strider's funeral to.
He went back to Aaylah and told her the news.

Swift wasn't unconsious anymore, he heard everything Radjar said, but didn't say anything. He didn't want to cry like a small baby, that was not of his nature.
Radjar looked at Swift and smiled.

"I see that you're allready somewhat better than this morning" he said.
"Yeah, I'm fine, but I still have much pain"
"Well, I'll be leaving again, so goodbye"
"See ya"

Radjar left and Swift and Aaylah were back alone.

"He died protecting me, you know"
"I was wondering, how did you got this wounded?"
"It was Varras, he betrayed me, he attacked me, Strider just got there in time to save me, if it wasn't for him"

Swift stopped talking, got up and sat on Aaylah's bed.
He looked into Aaylah's eyes and took the amulet of his neck, he held it in his hand and squashed the crystal.

"I won't do that again, it brought nothing than misery to me, to us"

They embraced.

"If Strider hadn't died, I would've married you instantly" Swift whispered in her ear.

It began to rain, rain clattered against the window. It was evening.
Swift would go sleeping on the floor, but Aaylah didn't want that, so Swift got in bed, next to Aaylah and fell asleep.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Logan smiled and nodded. "Home. All of us heading home. Sounds good to me."

Alex stood and smiled too. "Right. Let's pack up the wagon and fetch Walf. Orion it is...then home..."

J-10

It had taken a week, but at last the trio were back in Orion. During their journey, the tempratures had risen, and the scattering of snow about them had melted and turned the Royal-Classic Trading Route into a long stretch of mud. The cart had gotten stuck quite often, but with three willing back it was soon set rolling again. By the last leg of the journey Alex, Logon and Walf were all eager for a bathe and some warm food. They got it when they entered Orion's east gate and entered the first inn they came across, the Gaudy Goose. The rooms were cheap and scantly furnished, but it did have a bathhouse and the cook produced filling meals. After a long bath each, the two men and the boy ate their fill at the tavern section of the inn, talking little but enjoying the cheerful sounds around them.

At last Alex spoke, "It seems things are getting back to normal around here..."

"Good thing, too." replied Logon.

"When are we going to look for Dale and Jos?" asked Walf, slurping his own drink.

"Soon, after we finish eating." Alex assured.

Soon plates were scraped and glasses emptied, and they left the inn in search of their friends.

[lemon_squeezer2]

On the military border, conditions had remained a stalemate. Neither side was willing to commit themselves, and every day only compounded the problem with both the Royals and Falcons devoting more and more manpower to the front.

Voldornamiz Hollormann was the commander of one of the numerous platoons that were gathering at the line every week. Leading his detachment of twenty-five troops over a hill, he was able to oversee the situation. The Falcons had placed three divisions stretching the men out through over fifty miles of the hilly terrain. Already, trenches had been dug and the first few batteries of the magonels had already taken permanent fortified positions. The ground was not quite clear of snow, but already patches of grass – or rather trampled mud could be seen. The official start of the campaign season would begin in a few weeks, but even so, a surprise attack could be expected – the Royals had done it once before and they would probably not hesitate to do it again.

Randolph entered the relocated resistance headquarters – Vanderdious was busy unpacking materials from his trunk.
“I’ve just gotten back from the capitol.”
Vander looked up from what he was doing. “Oh? What of it?”
“It seems my absence has not been missed. The 3rd cavalry detachment is being called up again – I’ve been assigned to lead it.”
The man frowned. “What will you do then?”
“Follow my orders – in fact, this is probably one of the most useful things I can do right now. Martin himself re-appointed me. I don’t know my orders yet, but you can be sure once I do receive them, they’ll find their way to the right hands.”

Outside the house, a silent figure withdrew from the door and sped off in the night.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Men and women," he acknowledged, "These are dangerous times. Though the Bulls have been recognized as a legitimate faction by the Classic Emperor, that does not grant us automatic safety. Also, it seems Orion been haunted by demons of late. This may just be superstitious gossip, but still...keep a weapon by you at all times. Let's go."

J-10

Jerral had made a n astounding discovery in Orion. The Rebel Resistance. It had happened suddenly, when he had entered a bar with a couple of his companions and had ordered drinks. After a few minutes, after the drinks had arrived and they were sipping at them, another person entered the bar; a short, muscular man with blazing red hair and giant sideburns. Displayed upon his chest was the Bull symbol. Jerral and his companions gaped as the Bull plodded to the bar, hoisted himself up onto a seat, and demanded gruffly, "A pint of Dragon's Milk, if ye please."

The man soon turned and eyed Jerral squarely.

"Ye a bloody Falcon?" he snarled.

"Uh -- no, why to you ask that?" Jerral managed to respond.

"Yer lookin' at me funny."

The Bull's drink had arrived. As he fumbled about for a coin Jerral stopped him and produced his own purse.

"Let me pay for that." he offered.

"'Oo the bloody tyco are ye?" demanded the Bull.

"We're Bulls." replied Jerral.

"Where's yer Bull tunic?" snapped the Bull.

"Hidden. We thought Orion was hostile to Bulls."

"Not any more. Ever since the Resistance settled 'ere and teh Em'per said a few words, no 'un paid us sec'und 'eed."

The bartender harrumphed and Jerral passed over the coin. The Bull eyed Jerral, then said, offering a rough club of a hand "'M Joshhu."

"Jerral." Jerral took the hand and shook, "An' this is Mogted and Mardlan."

"Ye sound Bull 'nuff." observed Joshhu, "'M inclined teh believe ye. Ye from Bull Isle?"

"Aye. I was sent by Gerrik. He wondered of the fate of Lord Barbod and the fleet of Bull ships that sailed north to aid the Forestmen."

"Bloody tyco, ye've been under eh stone for eh while, aye?"

"You could say that...we've learned much, about the BloodVaine War an' all, but we still don't know the exact whereabouts of Lord Barbod."

"Ah, I see. Well...I could...well...yeah..."

Joshhu seemed to be undecided on some point. At last he said, "Ye swear on the crest of the Bull that ye be Bulls and harbor no ill intensions?"

Jerral, Mogted and Mardlan all swore. Joshhu seemed satisfied.

"Ri' then...I'd better take ye ta Bersun..."

"Bersun? Who's he?"

"E's a Black Falcon...part o' teh resistance, an' is in charge o' teh rebels Falcons an' Bulls in Orion."

This was certainly news to Jerral. He had never heard of a Black Falcon Rebel Resistance. He pressed Joshhu for answers as they left the bar and tackled the crowds outside. Joshhu answered the questions to the best of his ability, explaining the presence of the Rebels and their association with the Bulls. After ten minutes Joshhu stopped in front of a wattle-and-daub house and knocked three times. He was admitted, and after muttering a few things to the man who had opened the door, he gestured for Jerral and his companions to follow.

They were led into a small room that appeared to serve as a study. It was mostly bare save for a rug and a writing desk, and a small bunk in the corner. At the desk sat a man, a Black Falcon, garbed in a deep navy blue robe. He was unusually pale, and across his faced were several deeply lined scars.

"Hello, Joshhu." greeted the Black Falcon, "Who are these men?"

"Bersun, sir, this be Jerral, and Mogted and Mardlan. They swear they are Bulls and are in search of Lord Barbod."

"Indeed? Welcome, then. I'm afraid I can't offer anyone chairs, we aren't exactly a well-funded organization."

Bersun smiled and stood. "How did you come to Orion?"

Jerral explained his mission, Gerrik's thirst for information, and the journey northward.

"I see." Bersun said when Jerral was finished, "Well, I see nothing suspicious or untrustworthy about you or your quest."

"Here is the official seal of Gerrik." Jerral offered.

Bersun glanced at it, then returned it. "Having never met the man, I cannot confirm it. However, I trust your word. Xonyer?"

The man who had opened the door nodded and stepped forward.

"Yes, Bersun?"

"Would you please fetch something to drink or eat? My tale I need to tell Jerral and his friends will take some time."

"Of course."

"Thanks."

Xonyer left and Bersun turned back to Jerral.

"Now, time to fill you in on all the current events with the Bulls, Black Falcons, and other related issues."

The whole retelling took over an hour. Jerral listened, while Mogted and Mardlan took notes. Joshhu stayed because there was food. When the telling was complete, Jerral said, "I never knew so much has happened. To think the Bulls are on the verge of regaining their land! And Lord Barbod, in the Royal Knight capital...I would have never guessed."

Bersun swigged tea and wiped the droplets from his droopy moustache.

"It may sound strange, but it is true."

At that moment Xonyer reentered, a small piece of parchment clutched in his hand.

"Bersun -- read this..."

Bersun took the proffered parchment and read, his eyes moving back and forth quickly. He put down the paper, then announced, "That was from the Lone Falcon. We are to head north, to Vassalton, a city only a few leagues from Falconis City. It seems the opportune moment is now."

He stood, then turned to Jerral.

"Will you and your team accompany us?"

Jerral nodded vigorously. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

[lemon_squeezer2]

The slave galley continued its relentless pace through the night. Up and down the oars went, keeping the ship at a steady pace. It was a routine voyage – slaves were Anka Dolour main export. This ship was headed up Dameteros’ western coast to deliver another routine shipment of those unfortunate wretches. The Falcon nation officially condemned slavery, and the government had no part in it, but for years it had lent a blind eye to the shipments that came into the private sector.

Unknownst to all on board, the ship was carrying much more than slaves. Within its holds in the kitchen, a sudden mutation occurred. This new strain, stronger and more supple then its mostly harmless parent, multiplied at an astonishing rate.

The next morning, the ship’s cook clambered out of his hammock. He was known as a rather foul man with a foul mouth possessed most of the time with a foul temper. This morning was no exception as he poured a sickly looking brown liquid into the prisoner’s bowls. That job done, he turned around and slid open a small wooden door to be greeted by a loud clucking.
He scowled and muttered to himself. “Megablocks birds.”
Groping around and not finding what he was looking for, the sailor opened the top. In side he saw three chickens – one of them dead. He muttered again. “Aw Tyco.”
Shrugging, he pulled the bird out and began to pluck it.

[The Green Knight]

"When are we going to look for Dale and Jos?" asked Walf, slurping his own drink.

"Soon, after we finish eating." Alex assured.

Soon plates were scraped and glasses emptied, and they left the inn in search of their friends.

It didn’t take long to find Jos. He was right where they expected him to be of course, staying at the Gold Wallow Inn. They didn’t however, expect to find Dale there or in such good health, but that was soon explained as they sat, talking and laughing in Jos’s room. Dale introduced them to Keavur and Alex inquired as to his friend, the wolf.

“Ugrun?” said Jos. “No, I haven’t seen him. Didn’t he leave with you?”

Alex shook his head. “No, but I’m sure he’s alright. He’s a wolf after all. And you Mr. Stormspear?” he said, changing the subject. “What are you going to do now?”

“Well, I imagine I’ll keep on southward. That’s actually where I was heading before your little problem here waylaid me, so to speak.

“No way!” said Alex. “I’m heading south too. Knights Kingdom for me. Perhaps we can go together as far as our paths lie in step with each other. Logen here, is heading south as well and with the three of us we would be well equipped to deal with any trouble that might arise.”

“Well I’m not in any hurry.” Logen said. “We’ve been on the road for a while and I wouldn’t mind spending a fortnight here before going on again.”

Dale and Alex, both heartily agreed and passed their pints around for another filling. So the reunited friends talked well into the night, and when Walf finally laid his head down to rest, he was asleep right away. But before his mind slipped into dream, he had one final thought. Everyone had spoken their mind on what they planned to do and where they were headed. Everyone but him, that was. What would become of Walf? He had overheard some vague words about him staying with Jos, but nothing was said for certain, and before he think on this more, Walf was out.

[lemon_squeezer2]

As he crossed the border into Black Knight territory, Sirlon smiled for the first time in days. The snow was all but gone and the majestic Porta Diutius – one of the few bridges that crossed the Falpine river had been repaired in his absence. In the distance he could make out the towering walls of Rathoan, appearing a dull red in the light of the setting sun.

By the time he and his company reached the city gates, it was dusk. Once at the castle, and aide ran up to his side just as the king was dismounting.
“Sire – some important developments have arisen during your hiatus.”
The king removed his helmet and began to walk towards the main keep. The assistant walked alongside. “Oh? Tell me them.”
Flipping through some notes, the man struggled to keep pace. “Let’s see – first of all, the plague has been contained. There is still some trouble in the southern quarter of the city near the docks, but other than that, the disease is under control. Also, the first few shipments of food from the Crusaders have come in.”
“What of our financial situation?”
“It seems that the Falcons have agreed to whatever terms were set out in Orion. The first installment is expected within two weeks.”
Sirlon smiled again shaking his head at the same time. “I never thought they would actually do it…” By that time the two had reached the doors. The aide opened one, holding it open as Sirlon walked through. Both were now in a long torch-lit hallway.
“Speaking of the Falcons sire, we have received some preliminary reports of a revolution there.”
Sirlon was taken by surprise. “Really? What of it then?”
“As I said sire, details are sketchy, but it seems that a military coup has taken place. A Falcon general by the name of Martin led it.”
“Will this affect the peace settlement?”
The man shrugged “We don’t know yet.”
Sirlon sighed. “What other news is there?”
“Just one small report I got this morning. Lord Void has been reinstated as the ruler of the Dragon Masters. He requests permission to lead some sort of expedition across our lands.”
The two had come up a short flight of stairs and were now in the great hall. “Did he say what he wanted?”
“No – but he is offering a payment of several thousand dracos.”
Sirlon stopped for a moment. “How many men does he plan to send across?”
“A little over a hundred – an entire company is all what we were told.”
“Then – we accept their proposal.”

With that Sirlon turned to the right and exited the hall.

[TheOrk]

L-12 Castle Dracul

A week passed, the two sorcerers escorted by Sir Weigraf came to the castle laboratory. Belzzar’s three mages were busy in there. Their master gave them an icy glare, and they ran out begging forgiveness.

“Why was it that we couldn’t just do this last night?” Asked Pythos.

Belzzar walked over to a far wall, it was made up of many different types greys and bleys. Belzzar tapped several light greys in a specific order. With a slow grinding sound a secret passage appeared.

“We dare not venture here in the twilight hours, this place’s enchantments are at their zenth, it’s best to go at the noon hour.”
“If you wish…” Muttered Pythos who walked over to examine a fine collection of pickled eye balls.

“Follow me” Whispered Belzzar who was eager to get this over with. Belzzar yanked a torch off the wall and set off. Pythos quickly followed, the lumbering Sir Weigraf bringing up the rear.

The trio descended down a long spiral staircase, that lead into the bowels of Castle Dracul, Belzzar’s ancestrial home. Cobwebs hung thick on the walls, crumbling bits of bone crunched under foot.

At last they came to a short hallway, so far beneath the earth’s surface, they were litterally in a second megabloks. At the far end of the hall was a great portal flanked by a pair of leering gargoyals.

Weigraf was eager to get this ordeal overwith, up ahead he sensed something wrong. Great evil was eminating from the door at the end of the hall, it was a portal to another world. It was a second megabloks indeed. What did he care, he had been there and had lived to tell the tale, why bother warning Pythos? Weigraf wished with all of his black heart that something evil befell him.

“Open it Count. You are the only one who can.” Hissed Pythos. Suddenly a hiss caught his attention, the two gargoyals flanking the portal were moving.

“Now that shouldn’t be!” Growled Belzzar, he raised his staff and muttered something in a spidery language. The two gargoyals groaned and returned to there posts, stone once more. “You may be a better sorcerer than I, but in my castle I am the master!” Sneered Belzzar.

“Quite…” Pythos muttered dryly.

Belzzar thrust his staff into a small hole, in the door, he twisted it like a giant key. The portal slowly creaked open. Beyond was merely a dark gloomy passage that vanished into shadows. It was so thick that Belzzar’s torch couldn’t penatrate it. Sighing Pythos waved his hand over his staff, it began to glow with an erie blue and red light.

The trio walked down the passage and came into a dimly lit chamber. They couldn’t make out what lit it, a strange blue light radiated from everything. In alcoves all along the walls were the skeletal remains of Fright Knights who payed the ultimate price in defending their masters.

Throughout the chamber were over a dozen stone slabs. On the far wall was Belzzar’s family coat of arms, chiseled in stone beneath it were the words:
Cyrpt of the Dracul Family.

Belzzar nodded his head solemly, Pythos journeyed deeper into the chamber reading inscriptions on the slabs, he put his hand on one by mistake, a jolt of something incredibly evil nearly shook him witless. His goal was near.

He came to a slab, inscribed on top was: Heindrich Dracul son of Lothar Dracul 1945-1998.

“Father…” Whipered Belzzar.

“Ah…My other nephew!” Laughed Pythos. He didn’t dare touch another slab, he was still shaken from the previous encounter. “Weigraf! Remove this slab!” He commanded, pointing at Heindrich’s.

“Yes sir!…” He muttered, he placed his gauntleted hands on both sides, the spirits in this chamber didn’t bother him. He tore the lid off and threw it away, it made an awful clanging sound in the erie silence.

Belzzar screamed, in the stone coffin was Heindrich alright, no flesh still remained, his face was contorted in a silent scream, in his skeletal hands was a giant leather bound book. “Ah dear nephew, in death you still cling to what is mine.” Pythos bent down and grabbed the book, it was locked tight in the skeleton’s death grip. Heindrich was evil as his predessors, but not even he could let such evil loose upon Dametreos.

“O…A wise guy eh?” Muttered Pythos, he whipped out his staff and uncermoniessly shattered Heindrich’s wrists. Laughing manically he bent down again and took the book. Instantly he felt a rush of something dark flood over him, all the evil in this chamber revolved around this book.
Pythos turned triumphantly, to the chamber exit, he noticed Blezzar leaning against a pillar pukng uncontrollably.

“Help him…” He muttered to Weigraf. Without looking to see if they were behind him, he walked out. The book in hand…………

[Commander Redbeard]

Location: Borders of Forestman territory

The sun shone through the thick trees in pale shafts of light as the Fellowship entered Forestman territory.
Their journey had been fairly uneventful; but each new day brought warmer and sunnier weather; and that was an adventure to them in itself. The grey trees were speckled with new red buds, every here and there a tiny green leaf poking from the branches.

"Spring is here at last;" said Bjarn, looking fondly at the thick trees.

"Winter is ended in Forestman land."

They camped for the last time in a forest clearing; and woke early in the morning to the sound of birds.
If they made good time, they would
make Drullen Bell Keep by noon of that day.

[Robin Hood]

Grid: G-8
Location: Castleton

Sir Theodore and Sir Valric were now within sight of the Royal Knight capital. That was a good thing, for Valric had run out of money a while ago, and Theodore was now having to rely on his status as a knight and general to get them room and board.

As they entered through the south gates Theodore said, “well here we are. Ever been in Castleton?”

“No,” replied Valric. “I was close once a long while back, but I have never actually been inside.”

“Well then, what better way to see it. I’ll get us some horses from the guardroom. The capital is a big place. Besides, we will look more like knights if we ride to the castle.”

Soon the two friends were horsed and on their way to castle.

************

In his office, King Kjeld was doing the least appealing job a king could do. Paperwork. With the snow melting, reports had begun to flood from all over the country. The most boring aspect to being ruler was back to haunt him. Signatures. It seemed to Kjeld that every tyco report had to have his seal on it. So he had devoted the afternoon to try and lower the large pile of papers.

Robert knocked on the door.

“Yes?” asked the king.

“Sire, Sir Theodore and a friend of his request an audience.”

“Send them in.” Said Kjeld. He was quite glad for any excuse to not do paper work. Also, it had been over a month since Theodore had left for Orion.

Theodore and Valric came in, bowed and then were seated.

“Sir Theodore, it gladdens my heart to see you again.” Said Kjeld.

“Sire, its good to be back.” He turned to his companion. “This is Sir Valric, a Knight Errant of the Classics. He journeyed with me from Orion and I have quite enjoyed his company. He has nothing to do at the moment, and thought maybe we could use him in the army. I can vouch for his fighting abilities.”

“Welcome to Castleton Sir Valric. With the weather being the way it is, we might have need of you soon.”

“Thank you sire,” replied Valric.

The king turned back to Theodore. “Now, what has been happening at Orion?”

“Well,” began Theodore, “most of it is already old news, but I will tell you all. We…” but before he could continue, Robert burst in the door.

“What is it Robert?” asked the King.

“Sire, urgent message from the new border. The Falcons have begun to mobilize.” The soldier handed a hastily written note from the border commander.

“TYCO,” swore Kjeld. “Get Lego…. no wait he is gone to the isle to see Vallen. Theodore, I need you to get to the border right away. If the Falcons try anything, we must be ready.”

Theodore, without a word, bowed and left. Valric followed him.

[Cyclonis]

I'm back in the game

H-16, near the KK1 territory (kayfir's territory)

"yep...we've spent almost a whole month on the seas...and we aren't anywhere near land. I can't see a thing but water and fog!" announced Cyclonis in a very edg-y expression. It was like he was frustrated and also sad and wonderus at the same time.
Kayfir didn't really mind the adventure. He was never bored. He was never sick of the seas, and was always interested in venturing. He was fine the way he is. Theres food here, water (well, salt-water, but Kayfir had bottles of fresh-water from the kings quaters) and not-much shelter, but if it rained, he wouldn't mind the shower.
As for qual-Ren, well, he was wonderous all the time. He was very quiet and he didn't really speak much, but everyone knew what he had to say. He was crunched up into a little ball on the edge of the boat, looking into the water.
He whipped out a long, sharp, wooden pike with a steel tip. He concentrated on the seas, staring and studying the ways of the fish. He had remembered everything that Kayfirr had taught him, he had remembered to strike at the fish whenever they least expected it, and always strike them straight into the back, through the dorsal fin.
He watched...carefully. He noticed a pretty huge fish swim by, back and forth, and then he noticed Kayfir beside him, watching the fish and he could notice that he was about to alarm him on when to pearce the fish.

"There's always a bigger fish" said Kayfir. Qual-Ren didn't really pay attention to what he had just said, but he must have thought that it would have something to do with striking fish, so, without a further glance or second thought, in a split second straight after Kayfir had opened his mouth to talk, Qual drilled the pike straight into the river, puncturing the top of a medium-sized fish, and bringing the fish above sea level, on to the boat.

"haha, its a pretty big one" said Kayfir. Qual-ren could tell that he was proud of him. Cyclonis was just sitting on the other end of the small boat, seeking land.

Kayfir had looked up in the sky, and he looked at the clouds. He had seen something. Something white, with a bit of blue on it. It had blue fur on its back, and on top of its head. It looked so long, so pure and so peaceful.
It was a dragon. Kayfir had noticed that same dragon in the sky for his whole life so far. On bad occasions when he feels that nothing else can go wrong, he looks up in the sky to see that dragon. It just so happens that it is always out and about flying around whenever he looks up there. Its as if he had been blessed by that dragon. Something good happens that will save everything whenever he looks up there. The dragon seemed so huge, it seemed like it was so long, that it went on for kilometres, but the way that Kayfir sees it, it looks so small, because the dragon is so far away up in those clouds. 'Maybe that dragon is up in heaven' Kayfir thought to himself. 'Maybe thats why i am being blessed when things go wrong' thought Kayfir.
"Maybe" he thought, yet only to discover that he was actually announcing that statement out aloud to everyone.
"maybe what?" asked Cyclonis.
"...oh, nothing" Kayfir replied to him, then turned around and smiled to the clouds up above

"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.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

Grid: G-8
Location: Castleton

The Lone Falcon was asleep when the Mills' carrier pigeon arrived in Castleton. Freena, Dordrot and Rulph Belricks squabbled among themselves whether to wake the Lone Falcon until Lord Barbod lost patience, burst into the Lone Falcon's room, and announced gruffly, "There's a bloody note for you!"

After the Lone Falcon's heart rate had diminished some, he took the note and read it twice. Then he nodded to himself and tossed the note into the fire.

"That's it, then." he stated, "We're heading back to Falconis City."

"Already?" grumbled Dordrot.

"Yes." the Lone Falcon replied, "Durlass and his cronies have been overthrown. Martin Humboldt is now in control of the Black Falcon hierarchy. The Rebel Resistance is now congregating to or nearby Falconis City, so -- as Mills so perfectly puts it -- we can pack the hardest punch when needed. Bersun has also been alerted, and will be heading up to Vassalton with the bulk of the Rebel Army. We, on the other hand, will head to Falconis City itself."

"Right then!"

As they dispersed to gather their belongings, the Lone Falcon leaned to Barbod and said, "Something of interest to you; Mills says an old friend of yours is eager to see you...funny, I never you actually knew Lord Drakko."

Lord Barbod's eyes grew wide. The he grew into a giant grin.

"That bloody Falcon."

[lemon_squeezer2]

Karl walked up the semicircular stairs that led up to the base of the spire. In one hand he held a small briefcase while in the other he clutched a short cane, which he supported under his arm. At the top, he was waved thorough by the guards. Ten minutes later, after navigating passages, corridors and both narrow and wide hallways, he encountered two more soldiers who again, let him pass. Now he stood in what was once the throne room, but now it had been changed. The actual throne was gone, and throughout the rooms were tables – large tables with maps, statistic charts, projections – all the major material that used to be scattered throughout the palace had been brought under this one room. Another difference was the marked absence of any nobility. There was no lace, finery, or elegance here. Everything had a military air about it. Karl looked down uncomfortably on his attire – it was simpler then most, but in this area he felt that he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Before he could gather in any more, a aide – rather a lieutenant of the army, came up to him. Scanning the diplomat, he started to wrinkle his nose in dissatisfaction, but stopped, regaining his composure. “Karl Hertzog?”
The noble made a pathetic attempt to salute, which was returned with military precision by the officer. Now Karl felt even more at ease.
“Come with me then. Martin will have an audience with you.”
The two made their way across the room though somewhat slowly – one table seemed especially busy and as Karl passed, he could not help but recognize a map of Royal Knight territory. A gray line seemed to show the current front – on either side there seemed to be forces of proportionate strength. The most eye-catching part though was a vast cluster of flags on the southern Falcon border. Karl paused to take a closer look, but a backwards glare from the lieutenant convinced him to continue his course.

The knot of flags was in reality eight divisions of the Falcon army’s finest. Three were cavalry scrounged from the countryside and the eastern border while the other five had been drawn from nearly every inland garrison in the country. Most had served in the disastrous campaign of last summer, but more importantly, that meant nearly all had done this maneuver before – a swift blitzkrieg through Royal territory.

Randolph was not present though. Instead, he still waited in the rented house at Vassalton, another letter in hand. Shaking his head again, he turned to Drakko.
“I don’t understand it – one week ago I was ordered to report for duty, and now this…”
“Now what?” The noble walked behind Randolph and began to read over his shoulder.
“You are hereby relived of your previously assigned duty? Please stand by for further instructions?” Drakko frowned. “Let me see that.”
Shrugging, Randolph handed over the document. Drakko took the paper and held it up to the window. For awhile he stood there, cocking his head from one side to another. After a moment of silence he cried out. “Randolph! Get over here!”
The officer leapt up from his chair and came to Drakko’s side.
“Look at the paper in the light – here.” The noble pointed to the top left hand corner.
Randolph squinted. “What is it - I don’t see anything.”
“Try holding at this angle then.” Drakko handed the form back to his companion.
“I see it now – that watermark… FSS?”
“I fear you’ve been discovered. Come into the kitchen - I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re being watched now.”

[The Green Knight]

Gib waved to Voolmark, Anardan, Aros, Luxus, Reno, Shainya, and finally to Bjarn, then he turned and walked back into the Neverwood.

Jackal watched as the company filed away through the trees and out of sight. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him, but he was glad it was over at last. Turning back to his own surroundings, Jackal noticed Malder approaching Gib. The wolf felt pretty indifferent when it came to Gib’s brother. To him, Malder was just one more of his friend’s new acquaintances, of which there seemed to be more each day.

“You’re not coming back with me then?” Malder questioned.

“What? Well yes, of course I am.”

“But you just told the others that you were staying here in the Neverwood.”

“Well, I did but…I suppose I didn’t word it right. I should have said that I wouldn’t leave the Neverwood out of my sight. I’ll be able to keep a close eye on it from Glestol, I’m sure. The Neverwood needs time to heal, especially after this. And I need time to heal too. You don’t think my leg will be able to mend well if I’m running about in this forest. Besides, I really want to see mother again.”

So saying, the two men packed up their things and set out for Glestol.

They met with no resistance on the way back to Glestol. No resistance that is, but their own weary feet and yearning for rest.

This affliction did not effect Jackal, however. He was a wolf after all, used to running day and night over cold ground on an empty stomach. He did, however, shy away from the Baron’s estate when they arrived. He was a wolf, as I said and had a natural aversion to human dwellings. So it was that he was quite surprised to find himself standing in the courtyard of the Peregil chateau. There was quite a commotion and fuss about the Malder-person when they arrived. Men and boys with those dreadful swords-things were running all about him. Jackal was sure that he would’ve made a break for the gates if Gib hadn’t been there, looking so calm.

Presently an old woman came out and threw her arms around the two men. There was much crying and laughing hugging all around, and though Jackal couldn’t understand it all, he got the feeling that this was a happy moment.

After this, Gib went inside and didn’t come out until quite some time later.
“Hey Jackal.” He said when he returned. “I’m sorry I forgot about you and Griffin there. Once again I am deeply in your debt, my friend.” Gib leaned down to ruffle the wolf’s ears. “Thank you for sticking with me while I needed your help. Yes, you know I’d do the same for you. But you’re free to go now. I’ll be alright now, staying here with Malder. Griffin’s staying too, but I know you wouldn’t want to. So farewell at last, Jackal. Good hunting till the we meet again.”

Jackal licked Gib’s hand and then headed for the gates, which opened before him as he approached. Now, as he stepped out into the night air, Jackal couldn’t help but smile. It was a clear night with a crisp wind and the smell of wet grass on the ground. The moon was full, the night was young and all of Dametreos was open game for a free wolf with a mind to run.

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

The sun shone through the thick trees in pale shafts of light as the Fellowship entered Forestman territory.

L-8
Forestmen Border

They barely took ten steps into Forestmen territory before the entire Fellowships was surrounded by grim-faced Forestmen.

"HOLD!" shouted one, "Drop your weapons!"

"What is the meaning of this?" bellow Bjarn angrily, "Do you not recognize your king when you see him?!"

The four dozen Forestmen wavered and bowstrings loosened.

"STAND READY, MEN!" shouted the leader Forestmen, and stepped forward slower, his eyebrows drawn together in a scowl. Suddenly his eyes widened as he simultaneously recognized two persons in the group.

"Milord!" he cried, then: "Anardan?!"

"Elacil!" Anardan grinned with delight and bounded forward to his friend. Elacil, however, shook off Anardan and bowed humbly before Bjarn.

"Forgive me, milord."

"Of course, Captain." Bjarn nodded, "But what is the meaning of this? Why the tight security?"

"Gonderin has ordered the Forestmen borders be sealed, milord."

"Whatever for?"

"To prevent the Wolfpack civil war from spilling onto Forestmen land."

Bjarn gaped, and Reno and Aros crowded closer to hear.

"Civil war?"

"Yes, milord. Willem Blackcloak has been ousted, and his whereabouts are unknown. At least a dozen Wolfpack clans are now squabbling for the throne."

"This is sad news indeed." murmured Bjarn, "I see I have much to catch up to."

Bjarn muttered some obscure swear word and fell back to let Anardan and Elacil talk.

The Fellowship and the perimeter guard camped and shared a meal together. And then the Fellowship set out to Drullen Bell, leaving Elacil and his troupe to guard the Forestmen borders.

Their journey after that was fairly uneventful; but each new day brought warmer and sunnier weather; and that was an adventure to them in itself. The gray trees were speckled with new red buds, every here and there a tiny green leaf poking from the branches.

"Spring is here at last;" said Bjarn, looking fondly at the thick trees, "Winter is ended in Forestman land."

They camped for the last time in a forest clearing; and woke early in the morning to the sound of birds. If they made good time, they would make Drullen Bell Keep by noon of that day.

They did indeed arrive at the great Forestmen capital when the sun was at it's zenith, and the remaining members of the Fellowship of the Pendants were welcomed grandly, and soon they went their separate ways. Anardan was off after a brief rest and returned to his friend on the border to exchange many tales. Voolmark soon vanished too to search for his young friend Fraun Jerlock. Reno, Aros, Luxus and Shainya all went to bed and slept long and dreamless sleeps, recharging their spent bodies. As for Bjarn, a council with Gonderin awaited.