[Mkguild] MK story Journeys part 2

[Christian Okane]

Something weird is going on. My emails from my AOL email are not being
posted. So I am reposting them here!

 

 

 

Chris

 

 

 

 

   The first view of Thrush Castle was impressive. The massive Sathmore
mountains loomed up in front of them. Towering over everything. It’s tall
peaks casting long shadows across the ground below. Partway up the side of
one particularly tall mountain were the walls and towers of a castle. They
were at least five hundred feet up and surrounded on three sides by steep
cliffs. The road leading to it wound its way up the side of the mountain
switching back and forth in a dozen turns before coming to the castle gates.

 

   “From here we walk,” The Knightmaster commented.

 

   It was a long, slow climb up the road. The horses pulling the wagons
worked hardest of all. A half dozen knights and lay brothers had to help
push each one. Working the wagons around each turn was a major effort as the
turns were sharp and the wagons long. Everyone was relieved when the
massive, iron bound gates of the outer gatehouse came into view.

 

   Standing in the gateway was a small group of people. All were wearing the
blue of a Protector. Some were wearing armor and were obviously
Knightbrothers. The rest were either lay brothers or servants. All were
standing on either side leaving the middle open. Standing in the middle of
the gateway was a single knightbrother in full armor and tabard. The tabard
was the standard dark blue with a gold cross in the center but the edges had
a gold strip. There was the gold symbol of a tower on the front on the right
shoulder. That marked him as the Castellan or castle commander.

 

   “Good afternoon Grandmaster Kenward, Brother Harrick,” the castellan said
and bowed. “Welcome back to Thrush castle.”

 

 

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

 

 

   The causeway was indifferently maintained. It seemed to be constantly wet
with moisture and large parts were green with moss, fungus and all sorts of
plant life. So in addition to being slick with water and plant life they had
to watch for rotted or missing planks or beams. They spent three long hours
cutting trees and reinforcing a section before the rotted wooden causeway
was strong enough to hold up under the weight of the wagons. Even so they
made their way past that point one at a time.

 

   For all their worries the trip through the marsh went slowly but quietly.
Stealth was amazed by the sheer abundance of life around them. Fish, otters,
crabs, lizards, racoons, opossum and an astounding array of birds. Less
welcome were the insects. There always seemed to be something buzzing around
his head or trying to crawl up his leg.

 

   Stealth peered down at the marsh beneath him. “Are there any alligators
in there?”

 

   “I don’t think so,” Emile answered. “It’s too cold in the winter for
them.”

 

   Edmund walked up to the two scouts. “It’s late afternoon. I’d like a
place to laager for the evening.”

 

   “There is a large enough island up ahead,” Emile replied and pointed to
the south.

 

 

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

 

 

   The fortress was built on a spur that stuck outwards from the mountain.
It was separated from the rest of the range by a deep, wide moat. The inner
ward of the castle occupied the top of the hill with the lower ward around
and below that.  Being on a mountain meant that there was no naturally level
ground. So it seemed that no matter where a person was headed it always
seemed to be uphill.

 

   A curtain wall encircled the bottom of the spur on three sides. Tucked
against the wall along most of its length was a wide range of buildings.
Workshops, storage, granaries, several cisterns, armories, living quarters,
stables and even a small chapel.

 

   Towering over all of that from the top of the ridge was a long line of
stone buildings at the end of which was a tall, massive tower.

 

   The only level ground had been laboriously carved out of the rock. The
largest was an area around one hundred yards long and half that wide. It
doubled as a cavalry training area, infantry training area and a landing
area for the order’s various flying creatures.

 

   The fortress was alive with activity. Sentries walked the battlemented
walls and guarded the few gates. The group passed a small level area where a
score of men were going through close quarter sword and shield training.
Learning to moving and fight as a group. Further along and upslope a dozen
men were practicing on an archery range that was really long but very
narrow.

 

   “Are all Knightbrothers trained here?” the legate asked. The group had
gone through the outer gate and were slowly making their way through the
outer ward and uphill to the inner gate.

 

   “Yes. They might be initially recruited elsewhere and will take different
training in other locations but all will take their final vows here,” the
Knightmaster said.

 

   “How long is their training?” The legate asked.

 

   “Four years,” the knight answered. “From first arrival to taking the
final vows and adding the gold cross to their tabards. For paladins there
are another two years before they take their vows.”

 

   “That’s a long time to become a knightbrother,” the legate commented.

 

   “We prefer it as it gives the Knight Initiate time to consider in detail
the new life they have decided on,” the knight explained. “And also to
sample what that life will be like.”

 

   “Do many change their mind?” He asked.

 

   “A few,” the Knightmaster. “But we do not want to force our lifestyle
upon anyone.”

 

   The legate looked up at the large Keep and the massive hall attached to
it. “The order built all of this?” the legate asked.

 

   “Not all of it,” the Knightbrother answered. “We got it from the Order of
the Mountain Protectors. When the Protectors was created the older order was
absorbed into ours. But their records speak of ruins up here when they first
arrived.”

 

   The legate nodded. “That makes sense. This is an easily defended place.”

 

   “Brother Heddwyn who is the order’s historian says the ruins are post
Suielman but it has some Suielman elements,” the knight commented.

 

  The legate stopped. “What does that mean exactly? How can it have Suielman
elements if it’s post empire?”

 

   “There was a good-sized empire settlement in the valley before the
invasion in 150,” the Brother explained and pointed downhill. “When the
castle was first built they scavenged the ruins for good stone.”

 

   “What’s wrong with that?” The legate asked. “Good stone is expensive.”

 

   “Nothing wrong with it. Saved us a lot of time and effort. But he was
most upset about it,” the knight laughed. “He says it confused his timeline
of the castle’s history.”

 

   The legate gave the knight a quizzical expression. “Your order continues
to surprise me.”

 

   The knight smiled. “You’re not the first to say that. We do tend to
attract the unusual. But consider this. How are we to deal with the future
if we do not understand the past.”

 

   “Good point,” the legate agreed.

 

   Kenworth stepped closer to the legate. “To understand us. To understand
our order you need to understand the Midlands and the people in it. I have
four thousand knight brothers and Lay brothers to help maintain the peace in
a third of the continent and home to as many as half a million people. We
could not maintain the peace by sword and bow even if we wanted to. We must
think in different ways. Use our finest gift and weapon – the minds The
Great One gave us. Our problems are unusual and require unusual answers.”

 

   “Nine years ago a town near Gwaron in Delavia was plagued by an outbreak
of strange creatures,” the knight explained. “They seemed to just erupt out
of the ground at random intervals.” He gestured with his hands.

 

   “They had disturbed a burial ground?” The legate asked.

 

   The knight shook his head. “No. A gate was opening and the creatures were
coming through.”

 

   “Is not Delavia mostly Lightbringer?”

 

   “It is,” the Knightbrother answered and gave a wry smile. “The
Lightbringers were able to contain the problem but not stop it. There was a
Follower village nearby and they sent word to us. Thankfully Brother Heddwyn
was part of the group sent to help.”

 

   “He had an old Suielman map that had the word ‘ruins’ on a spot some one
hundred yards from where the gate was opening,” the knight explained. “So
Heddwyn took a large group of people there and they dug up the ground. They
carefully stripped away the earth and uncovered the remains of a very old
structure. It included a summoning circle. A mage was called in and the
circle was carefully taken apart. That closed the gate permanently.”

 

   “We are not supposed to take pleasure in other people’s difficulties.”
The knight said. “But it was a good day for the order.”

 

   The legate gave a nod of the head and a smile.

 

   “A lot of what the order does is similar to that,” the knight explained.
“Small issues. Bandits, raiders, feuding nobles, guilds and families. Issues
that require only a few Knightbrothers to deal with. A large part of the
order are Wandering Brothers for that reason.”

 

   “Does the order fight full open battles?” The legate asked.

 

   “You mean a major battle with hundreds or thousands of combatants?” The
knight asked. “The last was back in 623 CR at the battle of Aizkraukle.
There was over two thousand in the Sathmore force alone. The order defeated
a major Sathmore raid. It was the orders first real battlefield victory.”

 

   “The only place of seeing actual major battle is along the border with
Sathmore. The Lightbringers used to stage major raids into the Northern
Midlands but the order put an end to that at Aizkraukle. Now it is limited
to smaller raids and harassment. Usually a score or less seeking to steal or
rustle cattle. We do have the occasional raiders from the Flatlands but that
is more of an annoyance. We are seeing various things coming out Elderwood.
Those are a growing threat. The last creature was the size of a large wagon
and took almost fifty Brothers to defeat it. We still don’t know what it
was.”

 

   The legate nodded his head. “What of Aelfwood?”

 

   “The elves?” The knight asked. Surprised. He was silent a moment. “To be
honest we haven’t had any contact with them in a long time. The have always
been reclusive to one degree or another.”

 

   “Elderwood is a threat to be considered and brought to the Patriarch’s
attention,” the legate commented.   “What happens next?”

 

   “After we unload the wagons we care for the animals and the people,” the
Knightmaster responded.

 

   “And the Bishop?” The legate asked.

 

   “Then we go to Kelewair,” Kenward answered. “Things must be settled in
the order before we travel away.”

 

   The legate was about to speak when a small bird landed on the pommel of
his saddle. The little animal was barely seven inches tall with brown wings,
head and back and a gray underbelly. The bird flapped his wings and
twittered loudly at the legate.

 

   The knight laughed. “I’d like to introduce one of the local residents.
This is a Mountain thrush for whom the castle is named.”

 

   “He seems to be upset,” the legate commented, unnerved by the animal’s
unusual actions.

 

   “You’re new,” the knight responded. “The birds know who is supposed to be
here. You are probably a little too close to his nest and he’s letting you
know he’s not happy with it.”

 

   “A lot of people are unhappy with my presence,” the legate answered.

 

   “I wouldn’t worry,” the knight answered. “They’ll get used to you. It’s
supposed to be good luck to have one get this close to you when you first
come here. Usually it takes several weeks for the birds to grow accustomed
to a new arrival.”

 

   The thrush, evidently having made his point took off and flew a short
distance. It landed on a battlement where a dozen thrushes were perched.

 

   “You should be here in May and June during the nesting season,” the
knight commented. “Then they are everywhere. They have nests in every nook
and cranny imaginable.”

 

   “Seriously? How many?”

 

   The knight shrugged. “We’re not sure. But ten to twelve thousand would be
a safe guess.”

 

   “Ten thousand?” The legate asked in surprise. “That must cause a
disruption.”

   

   “It does. We had an expert on birds come from Kelewair a few years ago.
To see about how to get them to nest elsewhere. He says that this hill has
been their nesting grounds for thousands of years. Then the order came along
and build a castle on their homes. It seemed only fair we share it with
them. And the fact is that all attempts to remove them have failed,” the
knight added with a smile. “It seems the Great One wants them here.”

 

    The legate looked at a group of birds who were busily swooping and
flying overhead. Then they landed and started to forage amidst the stones
and grass alongside the path. A mere five feet from them. “They don’t seem
to mind all the people around.”

 

   “No, they don’t,” the knight answered. “The birds have thrived here.”

 

   The legate looked at a thrush who was perched on a battlement and was
ignoring the Sword brother who was walking back and forth past her on sentry
duty. Within arm’s reach. “They certainly have the safest place. No predator
will come anywhere near here.”

 

“They were here long before the Protectors arrived and they’ll be here long
after we’re gone,” the Knight said solemnly. “That fact keeps a person
humble.”

 

 

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

 

 

   Calling the small hummock of sand, mud, marsh grass and trees an island
was an exaggeration. It was barely above water level and only just large
enough to fit everyone. They placed the three wagons on either side of the
trail in a rough circle. Sentries were placed outside them keeping the
campsite safe. Stealth and Dasan wen went up the road to see what awaited
them. Mairsil and Adelyte went back the way they had come. To see if anyone
was following them. The rest settled in to eat, relax and find enough space
to lay down and sleep.

 

   It was still early evening when Stealth and Dasan made their way into
camp. They were not alone. “Edmund. We have a visitor.”

 

   With the cheetah scout was a tall, gangly looking young man dressed all
in green and brown. On his back was a bow and in his hands was a long spear.
Edmund noticed that he had a complex swirled pattern tattooed onto both
cheeks and a pair of dark blue lines arched over each eyebrow.

 

   “My name is Deryk Glendower,” the man said in way of introduction. “I
want to know why you are in our territory. Been a long time since anyone
tried invading.”

 

   “Invading? We are just passing through,” Edmund said and gave a chirp of
laughter. “As clichéd as that may sound it’s the truth.”

 

   “Where are you headed?” Deryk asked.

 

   “Fulgar,” the paladin responded. “A few miles north of Komley.”

 

   “You are a long way from Komley,” the new arrival responded. 

 

   Edmund pondered his answer. “We are taking a circuitous route to avoid
unwanted trouble,” the Knightbrother answered.

 

   “Trouble?” Deryk asked. “Who are you running from? Who? Lord Thomas?”

 

   “We’re from Metamor but we are not of Metamor,” the paladin answered.
“And we are on good terms with the Duke.”

 

   The man scowled. “It’s kind of easy to tell you were from the valley. But
what do you mean you are not OF the valley.”

 

   Edmund pointed to the fire. “Come. Sit down with us. We’ve already eaten
but you are welcome to enjoy some refreshments and we can talk. I will
explain everything.”

 

   Cautiously the man made his way over to the small space surrounding the
fire. Edmund handed the visitor a wooden mug filled with a brown liquid.
“This is coffee. A drink imported from the south. I was recently introduced
to it at the Keep.”

 

   The man took a sip of the liquid. “Strong.”

 

   “So,” he said and took a drink of the coffee. “Why are you here? Who are
you avoiding?”

 

   “Let me introduce myself.” The paladin bowed to the man. “I am Sir Edmund
Delacot, Knight Brother of the order of Protectors.”

 

   “I’ve heard of your people.” Deryk commented. “What brings you this far
north?”

 

   “You don’t care what we look like?” Edmund asked avoiding the question.

 

   The man laughed. “No. We’ve heard all about the curse. That is your
problem. Not ours. We don’t care what you look like. What we are worried
about is why you are moving through our land.”

 

   “The order was recently gifted a castle in the town of Fulgar and we are
headed there to take possession.”

 

   Deryk leaned forward. “Is that the only reason? Why are you traveling
through our marsh?”

 

   Edmund shook his head. “The Lutin invasion during the Yule brought to our
attention just how badly we have neglected the Northern Midlands. Not just
the threats to the north but also political issues and threats to the
peace.”

 

   “You mean Lord Donel in Midtown,” Deryk responded.

 

   “Yes,” the paladin responded. “Among other things.”

 

   ”Deryk smiled and laughed. “You’re up here to keep watch on Donel.”

 

   “Has Midtown pressured you and your people?” Terrant asked.

 

   The man shrugged. “They have tried to make us pay taxes and tribute.”

 

   “Have they succeeded?” She asked.

 

   He shook his head. “No.”

 

   “And they’ve accepted that?”

 

   The man smiled and laughed. “No but what can he do to make us pay? If
they come here we’ll rip up the causeway and let them wade through the mud
and water for a while. Eventually they’ll get tired and give up. Like all
the others.”

 

   Edmund gave a chirp of laughter. “It’s an old tactic but it works.”

 

   “Stealth,” Adelyte said softly. “Those markings on his face. They’re
Lutin markings.” The two were standing nearby. Close but far enough out they
that could talk without being overheard.

 

   “A lot of cultures use tattoos and ritual scaring,” Stealth commented.

 

   “No,” she countered. “They do not look like Lutin markings. They ARE
Lutin. The markings on his cheeks represent the Day Traveler and the Night
Lady. The sun and moon.”

 

   “Really?” Emile asked. The surprise plain to see on his face and in his
voice.

 

   Adelyte nodded her head. “I’ve seen them often enough.”

 

   Stealth looked closely at the man. “He doesn’t look Lutin. Could he be
part Lutin?”

 

   “I’d heard rumors that a tribe of Lutins lives deep in the marsh,” Emile
said. “But I never believed it.”

 

   “If they have Centli and Suielman hiding in here,” Stealth said. “Why not
Lutins as well.”

 

 

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