Knights of the Realm ch.1: Happy Anniversary
 

***Exactly One Year Ago***

The sun was not yet over the horizon. The field was shrouded in darkness, and a ghostly feeling could be felt by all. There would be much bloodshed here. Even the wild dogs that normally went to hunt in this field wouldn't dare enter it now.

To the west, there was the Englasian army. Thousands of barbaric warriors from the farthest Northern providence. Their axes and large broadswords were all chipped and stained with the blood of their countless crimes. They were howling and taunting, not being able to contain their bloodlust for much longer. They were ready to kill.

To the east, there was King Roland the VII's 'army'. What his army mostly consisted of were volunteers that could be found from all the other providences. Sadly, most of the trained soldiers and knights had died in their home providences, trying to defend themselves from the brutality of the Englasians. He had a few well trained fighters in his army, but a majority of them had either first held a sword a few months ago, or it had been so long, they couldn't remember when they first held a sword. They weren't the best, but they were willing. And that was all King Roland could ask for.

King Roland's army stood in front of a two mountains. Behind the mountains, lay the city of Incrad, the capitol city of the Tilan providence. The Englasian barbarians had taken over every other providence, and as such, people from all over the world gathered together in Tilan, the last free providence. King Roland's army was here to make sure that the Englasians did not get access into Tilan. The two mountains the army stood in front have had made a natural gate way. They were so close to each other that only small groups could go in at a time. The rest of the mountain range were too high and too clustered to try and climb over. So, the Mountain Gate, as it's been called, was really the only way to get to Incrad.

The sun finally began its climb into the sky, it's beams peeking through the mountain range. The light began to flood the field, revealing both armies to each other. And then, with a battle cry from King Roland, it began.


The sun had finished it's climb, and was sitting nicely at the top of the sky, making it noon. It was normally a beautiful time, noon, but not today. With the battlefield filled with blood and corpses. Only one or two Englasians had been slain that morning. However, hundreds of King Roland's knights had fallen, their bodies littering the ground. Only a few survived. The Englasians, cheered by the fact that there was only a small group left, charged. The survivors of King Roland's army gathered near the Mountain Gate. There, on the crown of King Roland, the group swore that they would hold the gate. And let none through. And as the Englasians descended on them, they did just that.


The sun had finished it's descent, and had nestled itself down below the horizon, leaving the light of several scattered torches as the only illumination around the group. King Roland's group had proven themselves. Not a single one of them had fallen, but around them lay piles and piles of Englasian corpses. Not a single Englasian got within 10 feet of the Mountain Gate.

There were arrows stuck in the ground and in the eyes and heads of many of the Englasians. Scorch marks from enchanted fire could be seen, and ice covered Englasians were like statues. Many of the bodies had been carried off by large birds, and soldiers looked like their throats had been torn out by a large beast. The rest were cut up and beaten, and just lie dead.

A few of Roland's soldiers began to bathe themselves in the blood of the slain Englasians. Others checked themselves and their wounds. Prayers were said, and boasts were made. In these few hours, the soldiers had become very close friends, as fellow soldiers tend to do.

A man with two swords with hilts that looked like hawks stared up into the sky as best he could. The area across his right eye was bleeding profusely. Luckily, it had missed hitting the eye itself. He would have a hell of a nasty scar, though.

The man gave a sharp whistle. From up in the sky, a hawk came quickly soaring down. In an almost drastic stop, it landed on the man's outstretched arm, settling in nicely on the thick leather glove. The man raised the hawk to his ear, and listened as it chirped quietly to him. He smiled, and turned to King Roland.

"My lord. Samuel has informed me that all surviving Englasians have retreated! They've ran off for good! We won!"

King Roland gave a small smile, then looked back at the battlefield, where his army lay in ruin.

"Yes, but at what cost."

King Roland looked toward the small group.

"My friends. You fought with incredible courage and strength against overwhelming odds. The world of Samrun cannot even begin to be able to thank you enough for your efforts. From this day forward, you will no longer be simple soldiers. For now, you are my Knights of the Realm!"

The warriors thrusted their weapons and staves into the air, yelling with victory into the cold, dark night.

***Today***

Thomas smiled. Today was the anniversary of the Great Battle. He rubbed the scar on his right eye absentmindedly. He seemed to have developed that habit quite a while ago.

Samuel, his pet hawk, was resting on Thomas's shoulder. They were both standing high on Thomas's house, watching the celebration below. To celebrate the victory in the Great Battle, the people of Aironas was holding a grand celebration in his honor. There would be games, food, and even a dance. They were hurrying. The celebration was tomorrow, and the sun was already beginning it's nightly sleep below the horizon.

Thomas gave one last look, then headed inside.

His house had birds flying everywhere, even though the place was furnished with that only the nobility could own. There was gold and fine jewels everywhere, but the birds perched on them like they were normal wooden poles. The valuable items were all gifts from his people, and they enjoyed the fact that he let his birds use them. After all, birds were a large part of their culture and were highly respected.

Thomas entered his bedchambers. It was going to be a big day tomorrow. He'd need his rest. As he began to change, he looked over at an alcove right by his bed. There was a large dummy there, and on it rested his armor, along with Raven and Dove, his twin swords. He felt something weird. It wasn't a missing sickness. No, battle was never something he missed. Maybe it was just nostalgia? He hadn't seen the other Knights in an entire year. They were close friends, and as such sent messengers to each other whenever they could, but the duties of being a Knight of the Realm was too great to simply go visiting. Thomas looked over at Samuel.

"Maybe I should take time off to go visit them. Perhaps even invite everyone to King Roland's castle for a party? You know, to celebrate the victory or something. What do you think?"

Samuel was busy. He was staring strangely at the window. The large curtains were billowing outwards. Thomas gave Samuel a small grin.

"What? That vulture trying to take on your territory again?" Thomas went over to the window to close it. When he passed the curtain, his Knight sense felt something. He instinctively fell backward. As he fell, a dagger plunged out and swiped at the air where his head had been only moments before. Thomas did a backward roll, and managed to get close to his armor. He reached up and grabbed Raven & Dove.

The Assassin stepped out from behind the curtain. He was covered completely in a black garment, with several daggers attached to his belt. The assassin threw a dagger at Thomas, but it was deflected by Dove. Thomas eyes changed. They originally were blue, but they were now a gray color. This happened every time Thomas fought. He would seperate himself from the fight.

Which made him more deadly.

He lunged out with Raven. The silver blade imbedded itself deep into the assassin's chest. He then kicked the assassin in the gut, pulling him off the blade and dropping him to his knees. Thomas then spun, the golden blade of Dove whirling out, and disconnected the assassin's head from it's body.

When the assassin's lifeless form fell limp to the ground, Thomas's eyes became blue again. He began to search through the assassin's clothing, and other than several poisons (he would have to remember to have all his food thrown out, just in case), he found a contract. Reading it, it was just the basic elimination contract. The assassin would be paid for eliminating Thomas, the Hawk Knight. What both surprised, and angered, Thomas was the signature of the employer.

"Signed, the royal majesty, King Roland the VII."

Thomas looked at Samuel, then over to his armor. If he was attacked, then the others would be attacked, also. And before they split ways, the Knights all agreed that if something happened, they would meet at their special safehouse. Thomas went over to his armor, and began to put it on.

"Maybe it's time to go visiting after all."

The assassin cried out in pain as the first kama entered his side, but the cry died as the second kama found his throat.

Nathaniel Godalming sighed in relief as the man fell to the floor, dead. The assassin had the poor timing of attempting to kill Nathaniel as he was reminiscing about the battle at the Mountain Gate, a year ago tomorrow. Nathaniel had been holding his twin kamas, the Talons, he called them, when the assassin had made the attempt.

"I had hoped to never shed blood again." Nathaniel said to the corpse. "But appearently someone else has decided not is not the fate for me."

The door of his chambers burst open, and Nathaniel turned in a combat stance, ready to take an attack, but it was only two of his servants, Marcus and Henry.

"Sir Godalming, we heard a cry and-" Marcus said, until he saw the body on the ground.

"Alert the guard! Have them search the grounds for anymore of them!" Marcus said to Henry, who nodded, bowed to Nathaniel, and ran out.

"There won't be anymore of them, Marcus. They wouldn't come now that their cover is broken, and they would of attacked at the same time. It is poor tactics to attack on at a time."

"You are probably correct, my lord."

Nathaniel shook his head. He still wasn't use to all this "Sir Godalming" and "my lord" business.

He bent over, and used the dead man's cloak to wipe the blood from the Talons. With his blades cleaned, he then began to go through the man's belongings.

"A few more daggers...a few vials of liquid, poision most likely...and what's this?" Nathaniel said, pulled out a piece of paper. He unrolled it and read it. He then handed it to Marcus.

"His Highness?! Why would the King want-"

"Quitely, Marcus!" Nathaniel said in a harsh whisper. "Tell no one of this letter." He said, taking it back from Marcus. "Have someone go saddle Pitch, and have the kitchen pack me a few days worth of food and water. I mean to leave before as soon as possible."

"But, Sir Godalming...where are you going? The people will expect to see you at the Festival tomorrow." Marcus asked.

Nathaniel didn't answer, but went to where he had stored his armor. "Tell them I have been summoned. Hold the Festival as planned. The people have been looking forward to it for a long time, and they deserve it after the past year."

Nathaniel's hand went to his neck. The chain was still there, as was the ring, resting on the thick scar on his throat.

"If someone wanted Death's Blade, they're going to get him."

Two hours later, a figure in a dark cloak rode a black horse of the town, with a large scythe on it's back. Some who saw it told others the next day they had seen Death himself ride through town. A bad omen.

Something had been bugging Adin all day. He was out on his usual rounds of the province, or so he said; for most of the past year he'd been using Nede as a testing ground for a spy network, but that was supposed to be a secret. The villages really got along quite well on their own, but he used his phony excuse and traveled anyway. Besides, he liked being alone in the desert.

But today someone was following him. He hadn't realized that at first; the guy was good. But now he'd made a mistake: he'd hidden in a cluster of rocks ahead of Adin, no doubt hoping to ambush him. There were a few places Adin would be completely out of his view.

Adin kept on as if he hadn't noticed, just as he had all day. Just as he got out of sight, he sprinted around to get behind the stalker, making no more noise than the wind on the sand and using the speed that made some think he could fly.

Easily he snuck up behind the stalker, taking in his sandy-brown clothes and several daggers stuck in his belt. Clearly an assasin, but surely one so well prepared would not have been so foolish...?

With just a moment's warning, Adin threw himself sideways as the man who snuck up behind him slashed at where his head had been. Drawing two daggers before he even hit the ground, he tossed one at each assasin. The one behind him, off guard and unbalanced from his swing, choked as the dagger entered his throat, but the other rolled to the side and jumped to his feet in a charge. Almost contemptuously Adin dodged to the side, two more daggers already in his hands, and stabbed the man twice in the back before he realized he had missed.

Cleaning his daggers on the dead men's clothes, Adin quickly searched them. Each carried a few weapons, some food and water for the desert, and a note. Each note told the bearer to kill Adin, and each was signed by King Roland.

Since Adin's only connection to Roland was the battle a year before, this must be connected. That meant his fellow Knights would no doubt recieve similar "invitations" to the safehouse they had agreed on one year ago. It looked as though the spy network would have to wait a while.

Leaving two corpses behind for the scavengers, Adin set out on a journey, silently vanishing into the haze.

Kratos looked to the ceiling as his wife Alyssa purred softly and shifted under his muscular arms. His face bore a thoughtful expression that seemed vaguely out of place on a seven-foot tall man.

It had been a year since they had all held the pass against the Englasian hordes, yet the memory was fresh and vivid in his mind, as though it had happened the day before. He remembered the frenzied fighting, the endless tide of the invaders, and more importantly, the vicious counterattack of the defenders. Thomas, their dual sword fighter whose eagle had harried the foes before them. Kal the blade dancer, who had carved a crimson road through the Englasians. Cecilia, whose arrows struck them down with lethal precision.

They had been worthy allies and fearsome enemies, all of them. He remembered what he had thought as he saw them, tired, battered and bloody after the epic battle, yet flushed with the exultant joy only the victorious knew.

"The few, the proud, the invincible..." he muttered to himself.

Suddenly, his head jerked up, and Krato's free hand clamped shut on a thrown dagger. He glanced over to the tapestry where the attack had come from, then with a grace that belied his enormous size, he slid his arm out from under his sleeping wife and homed in on his attacker, his eyes glowing faintly and the smell of brimstone surrounding him. Another dagger sped his way, but his eyes flared, and he put on a burst of speed that sent him past the dagger and inside the assassin's reach.

A vise-like arm seized the assassin by the lapel, and Kratos' other arm pummeled the black-clad man's torso viciously, bones cracking with each brutal blow. This was followed up by Kratos slamming the assassin into the ground, and more sledgehammer-like blows followed, until the neck lolling at an obscene angle satisfied Kratos as to the death of his assailant.

The knight quickly checked the assassin's person. More daggers, a small supply of drugs, and more importantly, a scroll of sorts. Kratos unfurled it, careful to use cloth torn from the assassin's garments in case the letter was coated in contact poison.

It looekd like some kind of termination contract, with his name on it... and another, which shocked and angered Kratos.

It had been signed by King Roland.

Kratos, closed his eyes and considered his options. When he opened his eyes, the prior fire was replaced by a cold, steely glare.

On the bed, Alyssa stirred, to see her husband donning his full armor, as well as taking up Aegis and Joyeuse.

"Where are you going?"

"Tonight's the anniversary of the Battle of Incrad. I need to attend."

"Let me go with you! I'm a Dragon Knight too, you know..."

Kratos stopped as he was about to don his helmet and went over to Alyssa.

"My dear, as much as I admire and love you, I can't put you at risk for my sake."

"Don't say that! I was trained too! I can fight and use Charms almost as well as you can!"

"And that, my dear, is why you must stay. The Dragon Knights will need a leader... and it seems you'll have to be it while I'm gone."

Alyssa looked down.

"You'd better come back. I - I..."

Kratos gathered Alyssa into his arms, closing his eyes.

"Don't be afraid. I'll be back."

Reluctantly, he released her, then donned his helmet. Wordlessly, he left the bedchamber.

******

Outside, in the clear white moonlight, Kratos mounted his horse, Simhata, who was already wearing his red and gold barding.

"We ride to war again, Simhata. But first, to the safehouse."

As the animal galloped below him, Kratos couldn't help thinking about the other knights.

He hoped they were safe.

OOC: In armor, Kratos looks like this.

Suiton sat still in the gently rocking boat reminiscing about the battle. The turf breaking against the boat made brilliant arcs in the air leaving behind rainbows. I just wish it was always this peaceful Suiton thought.

"Suiton , wake up, are we going to the anniversary, everyone is expecting you" said Suiton's childhood friend Dan from the bow of the boat.

Lifting his head Sution replied "Yes lets go, don't worry about the oars I will move us". With a murmered word and a few complicated hand gestures the water started to propell the boat against the tide towards the aptly named floating town.

The floating town was a series of floating docks in the water where people docked their ships and then went into the interior. The interior had everything a normal town would have, buildings, streets. Except since almost all the population lived in boats the buildings weren't houses. They were meeting places, markets and storehouses. At the center of all this was a wide open area reserved for festivals and such.

Upon reaching the floating town Suiton said to dan "You head on in to the festival I have some things I need to do". Climbing out of the boat Dan replied "Alright, but you better come in soon its about to start"

Walking on the docks Suiton suddenly heard the sharp whine of an arrow. With blinding speed Suiton turned around while a tongue of water came up to knock away the arrow.

The archer was on top of one of the buildings as he started to prepare another shot. He never finished, a mass of water rose up behind him and imprisoned him. His choked scream could barely be heard as he was smothered.

Climbing up to inspect the body Suiton found the order of termination signed by King Roland. Crumpling it up in his fist Suiton dissolved the order into water as he ran back to his boat.

Casting off Suiton thought Sorry Dan I think I'm gonna go have a reunion

"It doesn't make sense." Adellah finally said as the search for additional enemies continued after several minutes. "Why would only a single man attack me? It's like they had forgotten just who I am."

She had already searched the body of the assassin, caring little for touching the massive gash wound she made that was still bleeding out. Adellah supposed that she should not have killed the attacker, but in the excitement, she could not control the need to survive. The assassin had speed, but Adellah was far more capable on the battlefield. Single combat wasn't her forte, but she managed, dodging what few attacks that were thrown her way before taking her knife out and unleashing a deadly upper swipe that tore through him easily, the power feuled by Adellah's rage. She found the contract inside the man's clothing, noting that this was a stupid thing to do. The assassin was either very confident that Adellah wouldn't live long enough to see this piece of paper, or the assassin simply didn't care if Adellah found it or not. If she was shocked at the signature on the contract, she didn't show it. Then, some quick knocking on the door from outside. Adellah recognized the pattern as the encampment chief.

"Enter." Adellah barked softly, and the door opened, the chief and his two most trusted men coming inside the room and stopping shortly. The one man on the right was blushing. Adellah frowned inwardly and wished she had prepared to have people other than the chief enter her chamber. Get used to seeing me naked when you need to enter my room at night, boy. But she didn't care. She had a thing for sleeping naked and didn't particularly care who saw her body. "Report."

"Yes," the chief spoke up. "We have searched the whole encampment and are preparing to search outside the perimeter for other threats, but we have not found any more attackers. Nothing else to report."

Adellah nodded. "Please continue." She said, and left it at that. She handpicked the chief more for his competence at leading and his intelligence than his strength and endurance. The man wasn't an idiot. Adellah didn't need to explain what had to be done. She didn't think it was useful, but the assassin's identification might prove something. Kneeling before the corpse, Adellah neatly sawed through his neck and removed the head, storing it in one of the smaller chests she had in the area. The head should be preserved long enough that she could find someone to tell her who the attacker was. "Now for some clothes...and maybe some breakfast. It is about time that I wake up, anyways."

Leaving the decapitated body on the floor where it fell, Adellah began to get dressed. Today was going to be a day unlike any other.

Kel was wiping the sweat off his brow, grinning. That last guy had almost been a challenge. Sure, he was strong, but he didn't last too much more than the last ten guy who came before. Maybe ten seconds more, he didn't count. Oh well, playtime was over, and he had nothing else to do. He decided then to loot the corpse for fun - after all, he'd never done that, and he often wondered how thieves felt. Of course, that was after he thought of how the paladins, dwarves, gnomes, archers, elves, dragons, and all other stuff he usually thought of felt. His usual assumption was that they felt fuzzy.

As he took out the assassin's stuff - and was disrobing him, without noticing -, he noticed a small message on it. While he didn't gather anything from that, he noticed the King's name and seal on it. That usually meant he would be talking with the other Knights soon - even though he hadn't seen it for years; he used his mail to heat his castle.

Sheathing his swords, he put up his armor and clothing - like usual, he messed up. Currently he had misplaced his gauntlets and his armor was facing the opposite side. He had been paying some attention, it seemed.

He took out a set of keys and started to lock the castle from the inside. There were twenty different locks and all of them were very hard to crack. A normal person would have a headache from the hardness of it.

Of course, Kel wasn't a normal person.

Once the final lock was input, he went to the highest tower and checked the wall. Surely enough, there was a rope there. He picked it up and tied himself to it, then started going down. Once he was finished, he took it off, pulled it once and it started to go up. Kel then proceeded towards the meeting place.

The screams echoed over the grassy plains, arousing the feral instincts within the men and women of the city. His smile widens as he rearranges the man's organs in the most painful ways imaginable. Then, with a laugh that would turn the blood of the stoutest warrior to ice, Damion plunges his hand into the assassin's chest.

The torture continues for hours, yet the man refuses to yield any information. It is only after the man has been disembowled slowly and painfully that Damion decides to check the folds of the man's cloak.

"Tch, a waste, it would be so much more satisfying if this fool had screamed his foul betrayal for all of my people to hear. We would have sacrificed him to the Dark God as a coward to keep our honor pure."

"Master, I heard the screams, what has transpired?" One of the apprentices Damion has agreed to train in the arts of combat asks as he approaches the Death Knight.

"Nothing young one, merely a fool who wished to challenge the Dark One's champion. Young one, this seal means that I must travel to the home of my War Brother Thomas. I am not sure when I will return, until I do master Garion is in charge."

With this Damion turns and begins the journey to Thomas' home province to discuss what action should be taken in response to this attack, and hopefully some answers to the questions crowding his mind now that the bloodlust has subsided.

The sun rose, and Devon the Wolf contemplated a new day in exile. Despite the victory one year ago, gaining some acceptance, he knew he would never be accepted in his homeland. His brother, now Lord of Gerres, would not tolerate a possible to contest to his rule. But he held no thoughts of revenge. He knew all too well that he could never be a lord, for how could anyone place the trust of a province in the hands of a werewolf.

Suddenly, a scent caught Devon's nose. One advantage that the wolf-beast had given him was keen senses. He suddenly knew that there was another man present. A number of times, some foolish thrill-starved hunter would try to slay the infamous Wolf of Gerres. He knew to be cautious at any who approached him. With a hand to his swords hilt, he followed the scent around trying to seek from which direction it came from. He turned just in time to see a flash of silver. His sword was in his hands before he had time to think. His hands seemed to move with a will of their own, as the world around him seemed to slow to half its speed. As from a distance, he watched his sword deflect the dagger, throwing it from the man's hand with the force of the blow. Then, before he could stop himself, the sword subtly changed its arc. The assailant came into focus, his eyes quickly examining the assassins stance, determining its weaknesses. The path of the sword moved with a mind of its own, and struck the man's neck, severing the head from its torso.

Suddenly his mind awoke from its detached state, as from a dream, the sword in his hand, blood dripping from it and with splatters of it on his armor. His heart was beating with the increase in adrenaline, and his breath had increased. In the back corner of his mind, he could feel the Beast straining against the mental chains he had placed upon it, wishing release. He fought it back, subdued it snarling into the recesses of his mind, and with a deep breath wiped off his sword and sheathed it.

This was obviously no simple hunter, he had gotten far to close far to silently. He knelt by the headless body and began going through its possessions. He pulled out the writ of assassination. "It seems that I am now without friends anywhere, for the King Himself..." But stopped himself, for there were the others. It was worth a shot, and about the only choice. He went to his horse, which was, if it turned out that he had been singled out in this attack, the only friend he had left, and began on his way to the safehouse.