A Knight's Tale, part the first (OPEN)

[SerCasimir]

Casimir growled, once more adjusting the lance he carried across his shoulders while he trudged along the roadside. His time here in Scara Brae had been less than good to him from the start, and now thrice damned goblins had waylaid him while he made camp and driven off his mount. He had tried to track them down, but his skills as a woodsman had failed him, and they had gotten away. Likely ate the horse and taken what items he had stashed on the saddle, which included his meager purse, and the bulk of his remaining food.

He had only killed three of them. This was not nearly sufficient succor for his loss.

Since then Casimir had trudged forward along the road to the city, having not slept but a meager nap on the roadside. He was hungry, thirsty, tired, and thoroughly irritated, carrying what remained of his possessions along with the three goblin heads he had taken, in case a bounty was offered for them. He would need the coin to get to Raiera, and to pay for food, wine, lodging, and hopefully companionship if any of the whores would deign to take a half-orc. He felt a drop of water hit his forehead and looked up.

Rain. How delightful.

"I fucking hate this country."

[redford]

John's mass of armor around his body shielded him from the cold of the evening, which had just enough of a bite to be uncomfortable. He had built a fire, even though he didn't really need it, it helped keep the smaller denizens of the night at bay on the edge of the forest, and marked his location clearly. The armored giant had no problem with anyone knowing where he was. People who knew better wouldn't usually approach him in the night anyway, his nigh-eight foot height would scare away most even if the armor that magically clung to his skin didn't.

His ears picked a voice out of the darkness, and it threw him from his musings as specks of rain began to pepper the nearby trees, sizzling a little as they struck the fire. John wasn't afraid of close to anything, but that didn't mean he was content with ignorance. His deep timbred voice echoed toward the plain on the edge of the forest.

"Who goes there!?"

[The Mongrel]

In the three days since I had arrived on Scara Brae, I had attracted the attention of the Scara Scourge, murdered nine of their number... no, I only murdered five. Four were killed in direct combat. All nine were killed within ten very bloody minutes of each other. I had visited some friends of friends, who had stitched up my cheek from where one of the ruffians had gotten in a lucky shot. And I'd been back and forth doing whatever work kept me from being noticed.

I wasn't trying to hide from the notice of the law or even the Scourge, a criminal group that my own organization, Unfounded, had decades-long professional animosity toward. I'd kill them all like dogs if I had to. Of more concern were ordinary citizens. It wasn't so long ago that I'd had a hand in the downfall of the Forgotten One Pode, and if I was recognized, particularly as a member of a criminal group, I could bring a lot of heat down on Unfounded. Hopefully the humans will forget in a couple of years; their attention spans are notoriously short.

Until then, I can't go home.

On this particular overcast day, I was on my way out of town. Deep in the woods there was a bandit camp that had been making trouble for caravans and travelers, but that wasn't my employer's concern. Instead, they were known to have a ring of some magic quality. My employer wanted that. Any other loot I desired was mine, any coin I found was mine, and if I happened to kill the bandits, there were bounties on their heads if I wished to collect.

I saw the half-orc long before he saw me. Between his weary trudge and his irritable scowl, I had no intentions of introducing myself to him. I like orcs in general, but I have my doubts that approaching a grumpy one without any booze would result in a friendly exchange. So I kept my hood up and my head down. Most orcs and most elves don't get along.

We were only about fifteen paces apart when a voice called from the woods and a giant of a man stood to look at what intruded upon his campsite. Though I certainly hadn't been the one he'd heard, and though I didn't know if he could see me, I answered. With two big, strong men, both a little shabby looking, an idea wormed its way into my head.

"Just a mongrel cur." I lowered my hood so the half-orc wouldn't get offended. With my black hair, green eyes, knife-sharp features, and ashy-tan skin, I was immediately recognizable as a mix of Raiaeran and Alerian elf. Mongrel was the only name I really wanted to own; outside of Raiaera, let Illara Alfheim be no one.

"Say... how would you gentlemen like a chance to earn some coin?"

[SerCasimir]

Casimir was snapped from the reverie of trudging along by a deep challenge being called out. A glow of firelight was visible off the road, where Cas heard the voice from. He growled and called back, walking toward the fire.

"Ser Casimir Taryndor, who asks?"

He continued walking forward, pulling his lance off his shoulders, just in case. As he approached he saw a huge man sitting at a fire, heavily armored. As he approached he heard another voice, announcing a 'mongrel cur'. Instantly Cas snarled, his tusks suddenly quite obvious, until he saw the woman pull down her hood to reveal the ashen skin of a dark elf, though not quite a dark elf, perhaps a halfbreed, like himself, and his ire receded. When she mentioned coin, his mood improved for half a moment, hopeful but unwilling to trust his luck changing so soon.

"Depends on the manner of earning, my lady."

Casimir's well learned knightly etiquette had kicked in instantly. Respect towards women was as natural as breathing.

[Vendredi]

“I would,” Fii called out from behind a closeby patch of trees.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was agreeing to, but his ears caught the words chance and coin, and his eyes caught the shadows of a few moving figures right past his tree, and that was all the reason a youth his age needed. That, and a good dash of recklessness for good measure.

Besides. Coins.

Fii did not have much need for coin over the past two days, traveling by foot in the wilderness, but gold was always a good ally to have. Two days ago, he had ditched Scara Brae after witnessing a hooded figure slaughter nine men. The bloodbath was followed by a warning -- leave. And so he did. Fii was young, but he was no fool, and he didn’t like games that involved his life. Since then, he had been skulking around the forests, catching his dinners and sleeping on trees. He planned on staying out of the city until that commotion had died down, and then sneaking back to catch a ship. Perhaps to Corone. Perhaps somewhere else.

He half-tumbled out from behind the trees, and had to stabilize himself against a tree trunk. In one hand, he held a rabbit by its ears, freshly caught and still alive. His next meal. Once he could stand without the help of a tree, Fii patted down stray leaves from his pants with his free hand, and looked up. “I would--”

His words died in his lips. Oh.

“Oh,” his lips echoed, staring at one particular figure who looked terrifying familiar. His heart skipped a beat. Her hood and dress did, anyways, even if her face did not. Although the last time he saw her, she was… bloodier.

“I’ll… go away now,” he said, stumbling back against the tree as the first drop of rain landed on his nose.

[redford]

The sudden onset of the two strangers startled John, who responded quickly by coating his body in titanium armor, the metal flowing quickly up to his head and down to his arms and legs, spikes forming at his knuckles. Almost instantly he appeared as more forge-working golem than giant man.

Surprisingly, their exchange was cordial after an initial snarl from the half-orc. The giant was quite unsure of what to do, and was attempting to process the information and offer of coin when another figure stumbled from the treeline, and began to back towards it again.

Quite startling indeed.

He turned back in the opposite direction, giving the other two a more exasperated look than angry, though it would be hard to tell with his metal-covered eyes.

I just wanted a quiet night before I got into the city.

They stared for a moment, prompting a response from John.

"What?"

[The Mongrel]

For a place ten miles out from any sort of civilization, this patch of woods was absolutely thick with people. Thicker than I would have preferred, honestly. I looked from the half-orc - sedate and polite from the instant he understood I wasn't belittling him, to the armored man - too twitchy for my tastes, to... Ugh.

"Why are you still even on this island, little fox? Was I not clear a few days ago? The Scourge saw you with me, you are a target. Has your boyfriend at least had the sense to leave?"

I had drawn off the heat for them, and they had piled it back on themselves. Then I had helped them get out of trouble. In exchange, I hadn't asked for money, I hadn't hurt them to teach them a lesson, I had just told them to get off the island if they wanted to live. Why do human males, young ones in particular, have exactly no sense? Stars above! If he gets killed because he wouldn't listen, let him get killed!

I took a deep breath to cleanse myself of the gross aggravation. The fox wasn't my responsibility. The task I'd been given was. And I might have help. Or I might not. Either way, I'd be going.

"Fifteen miles to the west is a bandit camp. It's in the deepest part of the woods, located in a defensible area on a mountain. Reports from the area say that corpses of male travelers and merchants are found, but none of the women or young children in any caravan or group have been found since they started their work about three months ago. Take from that as you will. Their numbers are unknown, but believed to range between twenty-five and fifty."

I paused for a breath, but motioned for silence. "I have been contracted to retrieve an item from among their ill-gotten gains. A ring, to be precise. I am free to do with the bandits as I wish, whether it's sneak in and out unseen or slaughter them wholesale. Or contract with others to slaughter them wholesale. Any other loot there I am free to keep if I claim it, and there are Royal Bounties on the heads of known members. Bringing them attached to their bodies is optional. What I'm proposing is an even split of whatever takings there are at the camp, and if any of you also wishes to claim the bounties, I will not stop you. I also won't have the time to claim them with you, so that money would be all yours."

I looked around the campfire at the three men who surrounded it. Then I shrugged, turning around. "However, I can see that at least two of you are disturbed at my presence, so I will take my leave. If you're interested, you're welcome to join me."

[SerCasimir]

Casimir cocked an eyebrow at the squirrelly seeming little human who had appeared as suddenly as the elfmaid, and his grip tightened on his lance and he grimaced as the seeming half-giant turned to metal. Deciding to ameliorate the tension, he joked toward the man.

"Well now a surcoat and mail just seems silly. You make it impossible for poor hedge knights like me to compare favorably."

He relaxed his grip on his lance and listened to the elfmaid speak of her mission and the opportunities within. His stomach rumbled as if on cue, and he was reminded of his powerful thirst and desire to sleep warm and sated before sailing to Raiera. He bowed his head to her and spoke, as she turned away.

"I will accompany you my lady, it is my sworn oath to help the helpless against just such dangers as these bandits, and while I have no doubt as to your competence, I would be remiss not to follow you against such odds."

He grinned a tusky grin.
"Besides, an orcish appetite is an expensive one, and I need a new horse as well. Fifteen miles is a lot of ground to cover, shall we?"

[Vendredi]

He didn’t go away, the way he said he would, because the elf seemed almost civil just now. She hadn’t tried to break his thumb again. In all honesty, the armored man -- if that mountain could be called a man -- seemed much more terrifying.

And the half-orc. Don’t forget the half-orc.

Maybe he could hide behind that armored mountain if she tried to break his thumb in the next minute. Or the half-orc.

“I was trying to disappear,” he mumbled beneath his breath. His eyes were busy staring at a stray leaf flitting between the light raindrops, and his mind was busy squashing the memories of the other boy from two days ago.

Then a jolt of electricity went through his mind, and something did a backflip in Fii’s stomach. He looked up with a half-queasy grin. Curiosity, he decided, was a bitch in a siren’s clothing, and she had her claws clenched firmly around his neck. He could hear her breathing sweet whispers in his ears.

The rabbit in his hand struggled. He gripped its ears tighter.

“I’d come along. But say, aren’t you…” he started, edgily. His volume dropped a notch. She looked like the woman on those pictures flying around lately. “Aren’t you her? Podë-slayer?”

[redford]

John raised an eyebrow at the half-orc, his agitation getting the better of him as he shifted his armor, it moved from his head down to his neck, receding like quicksilver.

"Do not mock me, knight."

Though he had no need of the coin, it would appear that the nuisance of the bandits would need to be dealt with.

Gold he had, a good conscience he didn't.

He spoke, still meeting the gaze of the orc.

"I'll go as well. You may need a shield," he finished, lifting the massive slab of dehlar that served as part of his protection.

His ears did perk up at the term 'Pode-slayer' though. He glanced over to the girl who had slain the dark one for a moment.

"Pode-slayer? hmm," He said. Perhaps the giant's tone was a little dismissive, but most wouldn't consider the short girl as such.

Though, seldom did appearances hold true.