Damien Le Mort's Story

The loud clap of foot against cold stone filled the hall of the keep as the steward walked towards his lady, Keren Chaikin. His proud horns stretched out a foot above his head, and his deep caramel skin had an almost shine to it form the morning light. The steward bowed when he reached the table, and opened the old tome he had tucked under his arm and reached for his quill before reading off about the lady's holdings.

Income: 33g (Gold), 26s (Silver) at 84% tax

Total Gold: 1033g 26s

Building being built/time remaining: N/A

Standing Army: ???

Food Storage: You have 151 sacks of flour in your food storage (I took 20% of your food intake.)

Land: You have 45 small farms dotted around the plains of your land. Most of your land is unexplored.

Population: Inside village: 115 Outside village: 227

Villager Opinion: Your villagers like you despite the high tax because you are one of them! This is a... safe haven for Ke'rata and the only one in all of Bretonnia. They have no where else to go that would be free of persecution, so they are stuck with you good or ill, but for now, they see it as good.

Neighbors Opinion: You are a low-born playing at being a knight, and your.. kind is not fit to be treading on noble Bretonnia, in fact, your lucky that your kind is fit to be alive at all. You are a mockery of everything a knight should be.

Courts Opinion: They do not know, or truly care about you. You are some unknown knight that has not truly done something worthy of note, but you can be assured that due to your... background, you would find few supporters in the court.

General Populace Opinion: Not very well known, so there really isn't an opinion. Some people know of a village of horned demons led by a demon succubus who seduced the Duke, but few people truly know about you.

Events: None this turn.

Finished reading, the steward tapped the quill against his chin, "My lady... we have much gold with which to build, but for the life of me, I cannot find information on the soldiers, my lady. Do you know? It would help greatly." He said preparing to write it down in his great tome. He was hoping for numbers, and what equipment they had, but he doubted it would be anything luxurious. "Is there anything you wish to see done?" He asked.


(Same as Keren's really. I will give everyone special little intro stories for every turn later, but as for now it would just get repetitive.)




Income: 22g 05s at 50% tax

Total Gold: 1022g 05s

Buildings being built/time: N/A

Standing Army: ??? (Inform me please)

Food Storage: You have 175 sacks of flour in your storage.

Land: You have 35 farms, and most of your land is unexplored.

Population: 187 inside village, 146 outside

Villager Opinion: Your people love you. You have one of the longest taxes in the entire kingdom. Your people eat well and are generally happy. Your people do not care that they know nothing about you as long as they are being well fed, and their children are growing fat, who cares?

Neighbors Opinion: The other knights see you as a dirty-no-named knight who mingles with the people a little to closely. They would not be remiss if you vanished as their own people are growing envious of yours.

Courts Opinion: You are an unimportant knight who has done nothing of note.

General Populace Opinion: Just as with the court, in the grand scheme of all of the land of Bretonnia, you are just another knight.

Event: None this turn.




Income: 34g 70s 62c (Copper) at 75%

Total Gold: 1034g 70s 62c

Buildings being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army: ???

Food Storage: You purchased 150 sacks of flour

Land: Your land is too mountainous and forest covered for farms, and it is also mostly unexplored.

Population: 283 villagers... no one goes outside the village unless to hunt or work at the lumbermill.

Villager Opinion: They like you.. sure work in a mine is never good at it really is just a cave that they have to go in and swing pickaxes around all day and many people have died from cave-ins and of exhaustion, but it pays well. Your lower tax allows them to eat far better then they did before your nobles arrival, so overall, there is a positive disposition towards you.

Neighbors Opinion: Your an overgrown ox of a man, whose mother was most likely visited by some savage, dirty Norse invader.

Courts Opinion: They do not know or care about you. Its not you, personally, just that you do not have the power or reputation to be of note.

General Populace Opinion: Same as the courts really, who cares about a no-name knight.

Event: None this turn




Income: 41g 36s 25c at 92%

Total Gold: 1041g 36s 25c

Building being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army: ???

Food Storage: 68 sacks of flour in storage

Land: You have 17 farms, and most of your land is unexplored.

Population: 197 people inside your village, 83 people outside

Villager Opinion: Quite simply, you are milking your fathers reputation. The villagers still hold out hope that you will be like your father, or even half the man your father was, but their children go to sleep hungry, so dreams and hopes can only last so long.

Neighbors Opinion: You are still a low-born wretch at the end of the day. Your father was a traitor, and his blood runs through your veins. You are a mockery of a knight, you are nothing more then a common brigand bullying good people of bretonnia from their money (Which should be going to their pockets.)

Courts Opinion: No one really remembers the small rebellion your father lead that the king crushed merely because he was hungry for a little piece of glory.

General Populace Opinion: Once again, you are just another small time knight in the vast kingdom of Bretonnia.

Event: None this turn




Income: 36g 50s 25c at 90%

Total Gold: 1036g 50s 25c

Buildings being built/Time left: N/A

Standing Army: ???, You have 50 mercenaries in the guild, and they refuse to pay taxes if you want them to act as a village guard. They will still demand pay if you want them to fight in a battle.

Food Storage: You purchased 150 sacks of flour

Land: Despite your land being cold and not good for plant growth, some people still try, you have 12 small farms. Your land is mostly unexplored.

Population: 232 villagers, 63 people living outside.

Villager Opinion: You an average knight. You treat them like people which is a plus, but your tax rate is the standard high tax rate that is shared throughout the kingdom. They do not like you or hate you, you are simply their lord.

Neighbors Opinion: You are a son of a low-born mercenaries (Mercenaries are looked down upon by knights), but you do what you are asked of, so they view you as useful, but not someone they will generally invite over for dinner.

Courts Opinion: Don't really know or care about you. Just another no name knight as long as you pay your tax, there will be no problems.

General Populace Opinion: Same as the Courts... save for the tax part, they could care less if you paid your tax.

Event: You had an Event!!! A Knight Errant by the name of Sir Bran Cadret has stopped by in your castle. He offers his services to you for one month. He is a young knight of only 15 years, but comes from a well-respected family and has been training since he was seven years old in the ways of war. He is brash and impatient hoping for glory to prove his families honor, but remember, there is still baby fat on his cheeks. He rides a dark-gray warhorse called Storm, he carries a lance, a longsword, and a shield. He has heavy chainmail armor (Thick chainmail with metal plates here and there.).

Bjorn Steelheart

Income: 33g 48s 8c

Total Gold: 1033g 48s 8c

Buildings being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army: 20 veteran Norse warriors wearing chain-mail and leathers (I assume, correct me if I am wrong with your post)

Food Storage: 139 sacks of flour (20% of your intake)

Land: You have 41 small farms, and your land is most unexplored.

Population: 132 people living inside your village, 205 people living outside the village

Villagers opinion: Their lord is one of them, a loud-mouthed, uneducated, drunkered who seems to have a flair for wenching. Your tax is.. well, its not terrible, but it is you that they like. They see you favorably.

Neighbors opinion: Once again, you are a low-born and uneducated barbarian. You are not worthy of the title Knight, and you are an embarrassment to Bretonnia.

Courts opinion: Surprise!... well, no it isn't. They do not care about you. You do not have the power to make them take notice.

General Populace opinion: Your just another knight to them in a tiny piece of land. Your name never passes their lips.

Event: Nothing

Rickard Drakon

Income: 40g 94s

Total Gold: 1040g 94s

Buildings being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army: 40 Men-At-Arms with Chain-mail, short spear, shield, and sword.

Food Storage: 102 sacks of flour

Land: You have 32 farms and your land is mostly unexplored.

Population: 121 villagers, 213 people outside of village

Villagers opinion: Well, what can be said? He is just another knight. He doesn't tax as hard, but he is not a 'man of the people'. They don't love him, but they don't hate him either. In fact, I would say they lean more towards like then dislike due to the lower tax.

Neighbors opinion: Your from an esteemed family and have a basic understanding of etiquette. While they will not probably jump in front of an arrow for you, the local knights like you well enough... or should I say, like your fathers influence then you.

Courts opinion: In the Dukes court, your fathers name is known, but yours is not so known. You came to court once or twice, but its not worth remembering. You are just the youngest son of a wealthy Knight, just a small time knight. Not many care.

General Populace opinion: Well... yea. The peasants of Bretonnia do not speak of your name with reverence, in fact, they do not speak of it at all. You are unknown across the great expanse of Bretonnia.

Event: Nothing

"Ahh...the problem is your technique. Use the spear as such." Damien demonstrated the proper use of the spear. The new recruits were still very new to the use of actual weapons. None of them were ready for battle any time soon, so he was glad that the bandits had settled down after the raid on an encampment two months ago. At least the loot was enough to supply some more militia with "decent" weapons. "That's it for me, Renald will teach you all how to do it now" he told the recruits.

The village was bustling as usual, hustling to and from the mine. The blacksmith was repairing his armor since the last raid but he had heard it was finally done. The blacksmith had been working hard on that large piece of armor. He reached the forge to see the blacksmith with his armor smiling like an ass. "Got err' fix up. Tink ya'l like it." He proudly stated, showing his lord the armor. "It's suitable enough. Thank you and your welcome to come to any future feast as of the agreement" Damien left the grinning blacksmith but was happy himself to have his armor back.

"Keep your shield up!" The sergeant called to the new bloods. "You are going to get skewed by the first Anthro'pous you meet, and I guarantee you he won't let his shield drop."

The recruit nodded his head vigorously, his horns seeming to leave a trail from the speed. "Good boy, now do it again." And the two collided as sticks met shield, the low crack filling the plains, but the sergeant brought down the stick hard on the recruits head, a crack and a cry of pain followed.

"What did I tell you boy? Keep that bloody shield up!" He called to the boy nudging him with the stick, "On your feet, your embarrassing yourself." The boy struggled to his feet, his eyes still filled with tears as his head wrung with pain, "Alright boy, get yourself over to the apothecaries, and next time keep your damnable shields up!"

Income: 19g 28s 38c at 84% tax

Total Gold: 1052g 54s 38c

Building being built/time remaining:

toxovoli'a veli̱nekes - A very simple archery range. It is merely 8 moveable straw targets that can be set 50, 100, or 150 paces. It has a wooden fence at the end that is 6 feet high to help protect anyone walking by from stray arrows. There are 15 people working on it, and it should be completed next turn. If you want to make it longer, or add new buildings to it such as a bowyer and fletcher just tell the foreman.

Standing Army:
10 I'skios in training armed with bows and no armor, being paid 8 silver each until training is complete. Basic training will take roughly 2 weeks. You purchased 150 arrows from a traveling merchant. 50 practice arrows and 100 arrows for field use as well as 20 spare bow strings, and 5 short bows to be stored. (You don't really need to worry about the numbers. Its more for me.)

26 guardsmen in training armed with... and no armor, being paid 8 silver each. Speed of training depends on the weaponry being used. (Spears are easier to use, while something like a sword, halberd, or glaive will take some training.)

Food Storage: You have 234 sacks of flour in your food storage

Land: You have 45 small farms dotted around the plains of your land. Most of your land is unexplored

Population: Inside village: 115 Outside village: 227

Villager Opinion: This is their only settlement in this entire kingdom, maybe one of the few in the world, they wouldn't leave even if they were starving. They like you well enough, taxes aren't dreadful.

Neighbors Opinion: Well... A neighbor likes you, but his neighbors don't like him, so you are still where you started, a low-born peasant pretending to be a knight. A sub-human demon.

Courts Opinion: who is this Keren?

General Populace Opinion: Who?

Events: You got a good event!!!

A messenger hobbles into the keep hall favoring his left leg. Every time he places weight on it his face contorts in pain, the traces of bruises can be seen on his body, and a old bandage stained red with blood is wrapped around his bicep, "Kyri'a mou, I have a letter from a knight who... was most unusual, but wishes to create an alliance."

Dear Keren Chaikin,

I am Sir Godric Bedwyr, now while many of the fellow knights here would never be seen caught dead talking to you or your people, I am not one of those sorts. I once met your mother, a rather handsome woman if I say so myself, a shame she was already married as she would have made a worthy lady of Birthkeep. In fact, if your father is not still with us in this world, I would be very interested, but I digress, I am willing to give my word of support on the battlefield in exchange for your peoples medical expertise free of charge.

If you are ever near Birthkeep, be sure to visit as I have a son who is roughly your age, and be sure to bring your dear mother along. Give your mother my best as I can still picture her beauty when I close my eyes, be sure not to mention that to my old hag of a wife.

Sincerely,
Sir Godric Bedwyr.

Keren let her brother tend to the messenger before they sat back down to read the letter. The man was interesting, though both siblings were glad that their father was training her men at the moment. If Ke'rata were anything to their mates, it was protective.

"Well, Zohar, what should we do?" She asked, flopping the letter on the table. Zohar had his own Neroippos, Pag'eros or Icy in there with him. Zohar ran a hand through the kelp in her mane and nodded.

"He will be good for us... He can send troops while we train our own. And he has a son." Zohar reasoned with his sister. Keren raised a delicate eyebrow at her brother and tapped Flog'eros' nose when he reached for the letter.

"I wish to marry a strong, handsome man, not someone who's father decided to sent us troops. If he wants my hand in marry, he will follow tradition. It's the last we have of our people." She said, leaning back and allowing Flog'eros to eat the letter after she wrote the name down in her swirling script.

"Of course, I never said otherwise."

"Don't get cocky with me, Zohie." she said, smiling as she wrote a return letter thanking him. Zohar only stood and left the room, laughing.



The epo'ptis kept his eyes glued to the pile of papers in his hands as he approached Keren, "Kyri'a mou, I managed to scrounge up some information on the nearby Knights through a scout and talk with the merchants, there are four knights that own the land around us." He said placing the first paper down on the table, "Sir Godric Bedwyr, a knight of... well, he does not have a great reputation. They say he is nearing his 50th year, and enjoys the girls at the wash (Girls who do the laundry for him), He has a sizable estate and, from what I hear, he has a fairly large force. His wife is called the "Shrew of Birthkeep" A nickname, supposedly, the Knight himself gave her. He has two sons, his youngest who is known as a boy-lover was all but disowned, and forced to take up the Questing Vow. He has not been seen in some time. His oldest son is Luther Bedwyr, he is called the 'scholar knight' by his people and seems generally well liked, but he does not speak." He said pausing, "I admit, I was confused by that thinking he was a man of silence, but it seems, he is dumb. Born that way from what I heard."

He rifled to the next paper, "Sir Alain Bors, it is said he is rather handsome, but from what the merchant told me, he is a rather... cruel man. Not so cruel to his people or others, but it is said women leave his chambers with bruises. He is a knight of the court who spends most of his time, as the merchant says. "On 'is knees with his lips puckered firmly against the Baron's arse." I was not able to get much information on his land, but I assume he does not have many men, probably relying on his connections to protect him."

"Sir Artus Caliburn, not much is known about this knight, Kyri'a mou, it seems he almost never leaves his castle and when he does his eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep. It's said he lost his wife and daughter in a raid by beastmen and since then he has never been the man he once was. They say a man in black clothing comes to visit the castle once in awhile, but due to the knights absence the land has fallen into.. well, it is not doing very good. The village is run by bandits and ruffians, there are beastmen running rampant through his lands killing the farmers. It is not a good situation there."

"Sir Claron Flollo, this knight seems rather normal. He taxes his people heavily and is known to through his own small balls for his friend. He is married to a rather handsome women, with a 'bosom that could smother a boar." or so the merchant said. His village is downtrodden, and his people are starving, but he has many Men-At-Arms to protect his investment and keep his guest safe."

The steward placed the papers on the table and awaited her response.

Keren sighed. "Thank you. Find some way to ask Caliburn if he needs outside assistance. Keep me posted on Bors and Follos... I suppose Bedwyr in an ally now... Prepare to send someone over there and tell him to start building a road between the two keeps. My men grew up in plains lands but a road would be safer." Zohar nodded.

"I agree wholeheartedly. Though we should help Caliburn anyways. Even if he says he doesn't need our help, our troops need a practice run and that seems to be a good place to start. And if he pays us afterwards is his own agenda." Zohar explained, sitting on the large desk that his sister poured over now.

"If you say so brother. And this Luther, he's dumb you say? If this Bedwyr really wants our magic, we might as well teach his son to speak. Also, try to track down the disowned one, if you can. He seems to have something our people need. Besides, our kind isn't as opposed to "boy-lovers" as these fickle humans are." she told the other Ke'ratan, not looking up from her letter to the Duke, asking when his next ball was.




"'Ey Roric. Heard ya and the miss last night." The thin man said before swinging his pickaxe once more into the stone wall, the dim light from a nearby lantern showed the soft yellow streaks in the wall as the crack of metal meeting stone filled the thin cave where other men worked in various stats of undress as swinging a pickaxe all day inside a small cave filled with other warm bodies was not very... cool nor refreshing. The smell alone made people want to gag.

Roric stopped his work, even going as far as to lean on his pickaxe, "Heard that did ya? Impressed I bet?"

The skinny man gave a shrug, "Well impressed by how short it all was." He said with snicker. "That's not funny you little weasel." Roric said balling up his fist.

"Of course it is you big oaf." The skinny man said holding his pickaxe in his tight clenched hands ready to swing it and knock the big man down, "I knew that big size was hidin' somtin."

"I warned ya!" Roric roared jumping at the skinny man. A few other miners stopped working and watched as the skinny man swung his pickax only to get a punch to the face for his efforts. "Fight!" Someone shouted down the way, and hell broke loose.

Income: 30g 31s 88c at 75%

Total Gold: 1065g 02s 50c

Buildings being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army:
25 Men-At-Arms: Spears, chain-mail, and shields (Inform me if this is wrong.) being payed 10 silver.
23 recruits being paid 8 silver until training is done, armed with spears, shields, and no armor, expected to finish basic training in 2 weeks. (They will know how to jab, point the spear in the right direction, and hopefully know how to use their shields)

Food Storage: You purchased 150 sacks of flour again, and you know have 211 sacks of flour in storage.

Land: Your land is too mountainous and forest covered for farms, and your land is still mostly unexplored.

Population: 283 villagers... no one goes outside the village unless to hunt or work at the lumbermill.

Villager Opinion: You have low tax and are a man of the people. Mining life is never easy, but it pays well, and having a boss like you is always a benefit.

Neighbors Opinion: Dirty low-born man who is going to get infected by the peasant filth, if he hasn't already, you have land that you do not deserve.

Courts Opinion: Yea that one guy... No, just kidding. Get out there and slay some dragons.

General Populace Opinion: "Well... maybe if there was a few dead dragons laying around..." (Jking.. don't really fight one yet...)

Event: None this turn




"I told you!" The old woman shouted at her young son-in-law who was trying to enjoy a 'nice' meal of gruel, "I told you he would be a nice man like his father before him! No one could have a daughter that sweet and be a bad man!"

The son gave out a tired sigh, placing the wood spoon into the bowl with a splat, "Sure mother. Ya mean like the bone break'n taxes he had? We 'ere sharing one measly bowl of gruel!"

The old lady snapped her fingers in anger, "Lads father died! He needed time to find out who he was." The son rolled his eyes, "Yea', I've eard this a thousan' times, n'ver would'a married your daughter if I knew who'd I would get stuck with."

Income: 37g 25s at 80%

Total Gold: 1077g 61s 25c

Building being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army:
20 men training with... no armor. Being paid 8 silver until training is complete, estimation till completion: ?? Depends on weapons.

Food Storage: 83 sacks of flour in storage

Land: You have 17 farms, and most of your land is being explored, check bellow for reports.

Population: 197 people inside your village, 83 people outside

Villager Opinion: The villagers are ecstatic! For the first time in a long time you have renewed their hope in you! Some already whisper that they were right in that you would be a great man like your father, and in time, may even surpass him.

Neighbors Opinion: Just a low-born man playing at knight. Loosening your grip on your peasants only confirms your weakness. Word of your daughter has been spread around the knights and a few have even shown interest... a women who knows how to hold a sword and has a good head on her.. word is she is not bad on the eyes either.

Courts Opinion: Well, your not really know. I am sure you are a good guy, but just not famous enough.

General Populace: Need more deeds before you will awe the people of bretonnia.

Event: None this turn

There is a letter sitting on the desk in your study from the scouts.

My Lord,

Our search is under way, near the base of the cliff, we have found a few caves, but we did not enter. The men refused under some superstitious nonsense saying there mothers aunt child was taken away into these caves, we have however, spotted a strange outcropping of trees we will be investigating.

- Scouting party Leader Lyons Rev

My Lord,

Ain't much to tell ya, we found some tracks of some nasty creatures, and we have seen a rather solid hill we are going to take a look at see if there might be something of use. I decided to ignore the tracks for now and focus on the hill, Boris nearly fell into a hole awhile back, stupid clout, his foot went right through the earth. Seems something might be down there, probably tunnels of some sort, but we don't have the man power to check it out. Probably just little buggers not even worth an axe blow, but Id rather have the earth under my boots then over my head.

- Krogar

Income: 1g 10s 1c (Price of mill was deducted) at 85%

Total Gold: 1036g 18s 9c

Buildings being built/time left:
Mill: Your standard mill with a nice windmill at the top which helps give boost to the large grinder inside that turns wheat into something a little more edible. 4 turns until completion with 20 people working on it being paid 8 silver each.

Standing Army:
20 veteran Norse warriors wearing chain-mail and leathers being paid 10 silver
36 recruits being trained with... and no armor. 8 silver until training is finished.

Food Storage: 198 sacks of flour

Land: You have 41 small farms, in all your land you have 52 head of cattle, 13 work horses, 1 warhorse, and a few donkeys, and your land is being explored.

Population: 132 people living inside your village, 205 people living outside the village

Villagers opinion: You are a man after your peoples hearts... well, the men in the village. The wenching, the drinking, and the power your man radiates get their blood boiling. The women see you in mixed views: Some see you as powerful and enticing, others see you as a dirty, foul-mouthed ruffian.

Neighbors opinion: You are still a fool and a dirty barbarian. No one would cry if you turned up dead. Or did not turn up at all.

Courts opinion: Surprise!... well, no it isn't. They do not care about you. You do not have the power to make them take notice. (Ima leave this, I still find it funny.)

General Populace opinion: There are some benefits to being a nobody, no one takes the time to judge your every actions.

Event: Good Event Alert!!!

Lyra pulled on her horses reign as she her blue eyes searched the small village and keep in the distance for any signs. This was merely the next stop for her on her journey, but she had heard stories in the last keep... Of a loud barbarian who devoured young virgins, but there were just stories, they had to be. This was Bretonnia the land of brave knights, not the land of dirty men.

She was a damsel of the Lady, and she would not quiver like a little girl! Still.. doubts prickled her mind, and she glanced at her two protectors for reassurance. The young Errant Knight Alis Hebron, he was... cute in his fashion. He was always talking about how he would be the greatest knight in the kingdom and someday be a great dragon slayer. He had short cut brown hair, and bright green eyes, but he had probably never seen true combat, but he was sweet.. much sweeter then her other companion.

He only called himself Sir Hector, and nothing else. She should be grateful to have a Grail Knight protecting her, but he was so cold as if this all meant nothing to him. He had long dark hair that was graying at the temples and his face had so many scars on them.. Lyra had offered to heal them numerous times, but every time he said no, a scar was a lesson that should not be forgotten. He only took that dark silver helm off when they went to bed.. it was an interesting helmet, had a dragon at the top that appeared ready to fly off and claw someone or something to death, and she could never explain it, but she felt so safe with the knight, perhaps because he was also touched by the Lady?

Digging her heels into her horse she took off towards the village, her long blond hair flying behind her, but no matter how she try, she could not stop her quivering heart.

My Lord Drakon,

We have found... something. It resembles a large lizard with very large teeth. It has.. fur, M'lord, I am not quite sure what it is, I have never seen anything like it. It is not showing hostility towards us, so I sent one of the boys back with it following him to the castle, so you can see. I told him to keep his sword drawn encase it were to attack the villagers.

I am sure you can probably see it by now, but I still feel the need to write it down should something happen. We have found nothing of note yet, just more plains. We are going to follow the river for a few days before turning off.

- Roger Courne

Income: 4g 33s 75c at 80%

Total Gold: 1045g 27s 75c

Buildings being built/time left:
7 watchtowers being built by 28 people (4 on each) being paid 8 silver a piece, they will be done in four turns. They are very simple watchtowers with a tall, four point base that are tree logs dug into the ground and nailed to the small floor that the watchmen will stand upon. There will be a small railing so a drunken guard does not fall off, but no roof to speak of. There are a few 2 by 6's crossing the four logs giving it extra support.

Standing Army:
40 Men-At-Arms with Chain-mail, short spear, shield, and sword being paid 10 silver.
18 recruits armed with... and unarmored, they are being paid only 5 silver but are being housed in the barracks.

Food Storage: 173 sacks of flour

Land: You have 32 farms and your land it is being explored by three riders as you gave all the free horses (besides your warhorse) to them to use.

Population: 121 villagers, 213 people outside of village

Villagers opinion: Well, they could do worse, and probably couldn't do better. You are a fair man, and your taxes aren't starving them, so life is not bad. It is a peaceful time, and its nice to see that you are taking their safety into your concerns (Or so they assume.)

Neighbors opinion: You come from a high family, but they are doubtful you will have your fathers honor. They consider you to be just a boy hiding behind the legs of your powerful father. A daddies boy who will never grow out of his fathers shadow like a true Knight of Bretonnia would.

Courts opinion: Your fathers name is known in Lyonesse, but yours is not.

General Populace opinion: No... your father has never done anything truly noble or great that has marked him in hush spoken tavern legends, neither have you, so they don't know or care about you... yet.

Event: You got a Good Event... Kinda!

The scout resisted the urge to look back at the thing following him, or look at the growing crowd that was making sure to stay back. They whispered in hush voices pointing at the strange creature, the over-grown lizard with huge teeth and fur, but even crowded as it was, the creature showed no signs of anger or hostility.

The Scout pushed open the door, and bowed, "Mi'lord.. I um... brought the scout report, and..." His voice died off, "Something else.."




Income: 37g 32s 55c at 90%

Total Gold: 1074g 05s 80c

Buildings being built/Time left: N/A

Standing Army: ???,
You have 50 mercenaries in the guild, and they refuse to pay taxes if you want them to act as a village guard. They will still demand pay if you want them to fight in a battle.
Food Storage: You purchased 150 sacks of flour, you now have 219

Land: Despite your land being cold and not good for plant growth, some people still try, you have 12 small farms. Your land is mostly unexplored.

Population: 232 villagers, 63 people living outside

Villager Opinion: You an average knight. You treat them like people which is a plus, but your tax rate is the standard high tax rate that is shared throughout the kingdom. They do not like you or hate you, you are simply their lord.

Neighbors Opinion: You are a son of a low-born mercenaries (Mercenaries are looked down upon by knights), but you do what you are asked of, so they view you as useful, but not someone they will generally invite over for dinner.

Courts Opinion: Don't really know or care about you. Just another no name knight as long as you pay your tax, there will be no problems.

General Populace Opinion: Same as the Courts... save for the tax part, they could care less if you paid your tax.

Event: The Knight Errant is still at your keep.

Lady Fiora Benedict,

My lord, the King, wishes for me to thank you for the... business you took care of with that jealous husband. Nasty business if that had gotten out, but you are as efficient as always. He gives you his best.

Sincerely,
The Royal Steward.

Charles Renington

Income: 40g 43s 25c at 90%

Total Gold: 1040g 43s 25c

Building being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army:
25 Men-at-Arms with spears, chain-mail, and shields (Feel free to change these guys weapons, since they are your starting unit, their weapons are up to you really.) at 10 silver a piece

Food Storage: 158 sacks of flour in storage

Land: You have 44 small farms and your land is mostly unexplored

Population: 128 villagers, 221 people living outside.


Villager Opinion: You are the Witch for a reason... Your father was a great man, but his daughter was an apple that fell far from the tree. They do not hate you, your tax is high, and you seem to be made of ice... so you intimidate them a little. You give off an 'unapproachable' vibe.

Neighbors Opinion: Your father was an embarrassment to the knights, but you, you are not. You have proven your worth to the King, himself, and so are a valued knight. They like you... and those who don't would never cross you directly as they fear your connections.

Courts Opinion: Some in the court do know your name! You are the kings lackey, but with that title comes a certain amount of power. Many of the Kings Court will not cross you, at least, not cross you when you are acting out the Kings will. The Lyonesse's Duke Court, however, does not hold you in the same high regard.

General Populace: Some people know your name as the White Witch. They might not know of you personally, but they do know of the white haired, red-eyed witch who is does the kings bidding, they're whispera that perhaps you are a demon who is corrupting their King, but those are thrown out as this is the king. The man blessed by the Lady above all others, no demon could match the Ladies power.

Event: None this turn

Damien has inside the keep playing a game of chess with Renald. "Check" Renald said. Then a guard walked in the door as Damien silently cursed that at his last move. "Sir, there was a fight that had occurred in the mine and has been broken up. The two that had been fighting have been taken to the courtyard." The guard reported as they still continued the game. Damien turned to Renald then to the chessboard for one final move. "Checkmate. Next time Renald, be more careful how you use that queen of yours." He said leaving Renald to pick up the pieces.

Walking down the steps Damien saw the two miners out in the field. There was a fellow the size of a toothpick and the other tall too. He finally reached there end of the courtyard. He walked up two feet to the between them and looked down on both. "So what is the meaning of this interruption?" He asked in an annoyed tone. "There are strict codes of conduct and yet here you are before me. Tell me now, what were you two fighting over and how were you fighting?"

The skinny man, Avanc spat blood on the ground, his face already starting to turn purple as the swelling started. Roric had gotten in more then a few good punches, and Avanc could feel a tooth loose, but at least Roric had not gotten away freely. Roric was sporting a deep gash in his arm where Avanc had opened up his arm with the pickaxe, an much to Avanc's satisfaction, Roric had spat out a tooth when they were being dragged off. Well, Avanc was not going to say anything, obviously they fought, what kind of question was how?

Roric on the other hand was quick to blame the other man, "That whelp insulted me manhood! He swung at me with a pickaxe. Cut me deep." Avanc snorted, personally reviewing all the insults in his mind such as how his wife was cockholding him, how he was only a man on the upper half, and how he punched like a woman. It did not matter, they would get punished, so Avanc was going to keep his bloody pride in front of this posh noble who ate well every night and did not have to swing a pickaxe every day for hours just to make another man rich.

The skinny man held silent, respectable enough, though the tall one just spout out words. Not much for no squealing. Damien thought to himself. The tall one mentioned something about an insulted manhood. Thinking about this, he came up with two possible punishments. One could benefit himself greatly.

"You have two choices here. First is I will give you the option I give my soldiers when they are punished for unauthorized fights. You fight me. If you win then you will gain a weeks earnings. Second is you two will come with me on a hunt. With this you will carry game, prepare meals, gut the game, and if it comes to it kill it yourself if I am busy with other things. Which will it be?" Damien finished. Most likely they would chose the hunt for even the two of them against him would not hope to win. There physical strengths seemed poor and they didn't look as if they had much experience.

A crowd had started to gather brought on by the sight of the soldiers, the knight, and the two bruised men. Such spectacles were rare, and it was out in the open thanks to the lack of walls, so they would enjoy the show. The crowd consisted mainly women and children as most of the men were at work in the mines, but here and there stood a man. Either he was unemployed, worked in a shop, or was doing some other errand.

Neither of the men had ever hunted in their lives, but the option was obvious for both men.. although they chose different options. Roric, while big was not near the height of the over-sized noble, so he wrung his hands together to give himself a sense of security and familiarity in the unfamiliar setting, "I-I'll do the hunting one." He mumbled his face showing a nice shade of red. The embarrassment of having backed down in front of so many women and children, and he did not doubt his wife was watching. It was not everyday a man through his courage out the window in option of the less threatening decision, but he could not shut out the small voice in his head. The one that took away his courage. He could very well die! What if the fight was with weapons!? Roric had no idea how to use them.

Avanc lifted his chin in defiance. There was no way in hell he was going to just sit down and wet himself like a bloody coward. He would not give these people the satisfaction of seeing him kneel. He was not weak. He had his pride, he was not worthless, and he would not die a nobody in some backwater mine! "I will fight you." Avanc said. Sure, he probably would not win against the ogre, but he would be damned if he was just going to go down without a fight. You only lost if you didn't try, "So how is this going to be done?" Avanc asked, far better spoken then his companion.

Damien grinned at the outcome of the answers. So the tall one is a coward. Though the skinny one is courageous. How ironic. He thought to himself. He thought of what would be fair for this man. "It's going to be a plain old bare knuckle fist fight. No weapons. No armors. The rules are simple. No groin shots and when your opponent gives that's the end of it. Got it?" He knew the man knew those were honorable terms being that his entire personality was based on pride. That was a good thing too, having a bit of pride that is.

He nodded at some of the guards who formed a loose circle around them to act as a ring for them. The crowd would still be able to see plenty fine. "Renald will give us a signal shout of when to begin." Damien said. He liked this skinny man, maybe more than he should. After all this was still a punishment that the man would certainly feel in the mourning. He would make sure not to leave to bad of damage. Renald then shouted the signal for the fight to begin. Damien would let the man make the first move. Though after the skinny one made that move the knight would follow up with a fast jab in the face with his left fist.

Avanc was a little disappointed. With fist had his small chance got smaller, but with a sword he was fairly sure he could have won, but no use lamenting on his fortune. He would have to be quick and strike even quicker. The knight had size on him, but Avanc had the speed, he was already anticipating his own moves. He would rush in, dodge the first attack and then follow through with a right straight and a left uppercut to make use of his smaller size. He needed to get in close to cut off the knights power. The man, Renald, gave the shout to begin, and Avanc rushed forward bringing up his arms to help cover his body.

When he got close, a left jab shot out, it was fast, but he had seen faster, he nimbly ducked under and came up, he tossed away his plan as he understood in a true fight there was only instinct. Thinking cost you precious moments, so threw a left uppercut meaning to cross right under the mans arm and get him square in the jaw using his own and the knights momentum to his advantage.

That blow had taken him back. Damien didn't expect to get hit like that and was seeing stars for a few seconds, but the fight wasn't over yet. To be able to dodge his first jab took both skill and speed. No doubt this man actually did have more experience in bare knuckle fighting than he thought, but Damien knew he was still better. Damien shot back yet another left jab but this time it was a faker. The real shot was a right punch the aimed true to the nose.

Avanc felt the adrenaline fill his body as the blow landed. It proved one thing to him: He could indeed win this. The knight was reeling, and there was no way that Avanc was going to let him rest, but a left jab shot out, which Avanc moved to dodge surprised that the big man was able to recover so fast, but in his haste, he had jumped to early. The left jab pulled back, a feint, and before Avanc could move once more, a right straight cut him square in the nose. Bone and flesh met cartilage... and cartilage lost. He heard and felt the cracking in his nose as blood exploded from his nostrils, and the tears filled his eyes.

In fact, it took a few seconds for Avanc to realize he was on his back looking up at the sky, the blood was running down his face in a small steady stream, and he was fairly certain his nose was broken. Part of him wanted to stay down, his chance at victory was gone. Avanc slowly sat up and then rolled over to push himself back up to standing on his feet. He was not going to just lay there and lose. He slowly brought up his fist, but his legs were shaking too bad... he couldn't move them. Avanc took in a deep breath, and then spat out the blood that had been sucked in with the air. "Come on." Avanc spat. He only had one shot left, he had to try and throw a counter, but he wasn't sure how much power it would have behind it with the damage to his legs.

Damien looked at the man with pity now. It was sad that the man didn't know when to give up. One more punch like the one that he just threw could really hurt the man. Instead of laying down another punch he instead grabbed the man's arm casually, twisting it behind but not so much as to hurt the arm, and pushed the man back down to the ground. "The fight has been lossed. You can surely see that and you've proved your point. You won't back down tto anyone as long as you still breath, but this fight is over." He said as he nodded at Renald who came walking up to the ring with a pouch of silver.

"Don't you dare look down upon me!" Avanc snarled pushing himself up to his feet. There was nothing more disrespectful then not fighting another warrior to the end. Nothing shamed another man more then to do something like that acting as if he was an ant not worth stepping on, apparently, this knight had probably never fought in a duel with another, but the gull and arrogance was astounding. Knights of Bretonnia were supposed to be men of honor, warriors of both skill and renown; a true knight of bretonnia would never disrespect another man (assuming they weren't a peasant thus not worthy of the title of 'man') like this, but this man just dishonored him in such a fashion before half of the people in the village.

Avanc spat on the courtyard, "Keep your silver. I don't want silver from a such a man."

"If you think the silver is just a gift your wrong. It's for your new job as a man-in-arms, if you accept that is. You cretainly have shown that you are a man with fire in his soul and I could use that. Though we'll have to knock some of that pride out of you, I think you would fit in just fine. It's your call. You could either work in that mine for rest of your life or you can become a soldier who makes every bandit he faces tremble in fear. So what will it be?" Damien finished with the question of truth. He had a fifty fifty chance here of getting a good soldier. If this man refused there was always the possibility of getting the taller miner to join, but the skinny one was preferrable.

Avanc was not planning on staying in this village any longer then he had to, scrounge up a few coins then slip out in the night... but the chance at being a soldier again was tempting. Even if it was for a Knight who dishonored his opponents in such a manner, "Alright." Avanc said, rolling his jaw a little to help get rid of the iron taste of his blood, but sadly, moving his jaw caused him to wince as it moved his broken nose sending a sharp stab of pain to the back of his head, "A pride is all a man has." Avanc said, "and it would feel good to hold a sword in my hand again. I accept your offer."

He held his hand out for the gold, "But... My Lord." He said, it sounded a little distasteful, but he would grow used to it, "Next time, fight will full force from beginning to end. Crushing a man may hurt his pride, but nothing hurts more then when an opponent looks down upon them. It is a much crueler thing you did then if you had merely struck me down. A few broken bones are one thing, a broken pride destroys a man." He may not want the lecture, but he got it anyway. "I am Avanc Valgeir, 38 winters old. Ex-Empire Swordsman of Ostermark."

((And story end :P That's a wrap people, you can finish it up as you like.))

The Epo'ptis came into the hall with a hop in his step. As usual, he bore the financial and land reports, but he also had two other important letters. One from her brother Zohar, and one from the Duke, himself. Of course, in his mind, the Duke's letter was more important, but Zohar was in rather dangerous territory.. She could very well be displeased with him, if he held off that letter, so he made sure to drop the duke's letter underneath the letter from Zohar.

Hows things going?

We managed to sneak into Sir Caliburn's lands without any trouble. Although, we did see a large band of those things Anthro'pous call 'beastmen'. Human bodies, legs and head of a goat, strange things, but the look in their eyes held only hatred and pain. The ones we saw were about normal Anthro'pous height with polished horns and large axes. We should probably be watching this land a little more.

We had to pay a few coppers to the bandits guarding the town as there were too many to fight and not enough room, or enough people, for well... our kind to be able to sneak around. I attempted to seek an audience with Sir Caliburn, but the doors remained barred, man did not even take the time to tell us off, so we will be coming back soon.

-- Zohar

Income: 27g 58s 88c at 84% tax

Total Gold: 1080g 13s 26c

Building being built/time remaining:
toxovoli'a veli̱nekes - Your archery range is complete. Grats.

Standing Army:
10 I'skios in training armed with bows and no armor, being paid 8 silver each until training is complete. Basic training will be finished next week.
26 guardsmen in training armed with spears and no armor, being paid 8 silver each. Basic training will be finished next week.
36 suits of ironbark armor (Lightarmor) will be done next week.

Food Storage: You have 321 sacks of flour in your food storage

Land: You have 45 small farms dotted around the plains of your land. Most of your land is unexplored.

Population: Inside village: 115 Outside village: 227

Villager Opinion: Well, your still one of them! and they can still afford to eat which is always lovely. Maybe not eat well, but eat.

Neighbors Opinion: A neighbor likes you, but you know for sure that another one doesn't even deem you worth his time, the other two... who knows? Well, I do, but where is the fun in me just telling you?

Courts Opinion: Well... you have a nice personality if thats any consolation.

General Populace Opinion: ... nice personality, yatta yatta.

Events: You got a good event!!! Again.

Your blacksmith, for whatever reason, had the fires of the gods lit under him. He managed to do three weeks worth of work in one cutting down the time it would take for your armor to be created by... well, three weeks. It did not cost you any extra for this work.

To Lady Keren Chaikin,

Duke Owain Tor has invited you to take part in his Grand Tournament that will be happening next week. Your attendence is expected, and the prizes for the greatest warriors will be even greater.

The Duke looks forward to meeting you.

P.S, the Duke has expressed his desire that you bring your mother along as he wishes to see her once again.
- Sincerly,

Alaric, The Dukes ever faithful Steward

The usually grunts and groans of the tranning field were no different today, although there was an oddity in the sight of the new recruits standing in a circle to watch a fight between their newest member, Avanc, and the sergeant who had been training them. Well, it hadn't been much of a fight as within a few moments, Avanc had the sergeant on his back, and his sword at his throat.

It had not taken Avanc long to become the bane of his 'superiors' but a hero to the other Men-At-Arms and recruits. They idolized his ability to stand up to people he should be bowing to, and his skill to back it up. Many of them have begun to mick his fighting moves at night when they were alone...

Income: 36g 74s 13c at 75%

Total Gold: 1101g 76s 63c (Grats on being the first person to earn 100 gold so far.)

Buildings being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army:
25 Men-At-Arms: Spears, chain-mail, and shields being payed 10 silver.
23 recruits being paid 8 silver until training is done, armed with spears, shields, and no armor, expected to finish basic training next week.

Food Storage: You purchased 150 sacks of flour again, and you know have 315 sacks of flour in storage.

Land: Your land is too mountainous and forest covered for farms, and your land is still unexplored.

Population: 283 villagers... no one goes outside the village unless to hunt or work at the lumbermill.

Villager Opinion: You showed mercy to two of the villagers, and for that your popularity has increased to the point where people do not mind working in the mine. Of course, such moral boost are only temporary, but it beats having to listen to complaints.

Neighbors Opinion: Still a dirty-lowborn peasant boy.

Courts Opinion: Killed any dragons lately?

General Populace Opinion: How bout dem dragons?

Event: None this turn

Sir Damien Le Mort,

You have been invited to the Dukes Grand Tournament that will be taking place next week. Your attendence is expected, and the Duke looks forward to seeing you.

Sincerly, the dukes ever faithful steward.

Sir Alexander Lancaster,
You have been invited to the Dukes Grand Tournament that will be taking place next week. Your attendence is expected, and the Duke looks forward to seeing you. He expects for you to bring your daughter to introduce her to the other knights as well, it is only proper.
Sincerly, the dukes ever faithful steward.

Income: 15g 78s at 80%

Total Gold: 1093g 39s 25c

Building being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army:
20 men training with... no armor. (Weapons still being made) Being paid 8 silver until training is complete, estimation till completion: ??

x20 Pugios daggers, x20 Gladius short swords, x20 Chain mail, x20 javelins, x20 Scutum shields... Swords, daggers, and javelins will be done in two weeks, shields and chain-mail in 5 weeks. The blacksmith has recruited a few boys in the village to help him further and has been teaching them how to make chain-mail, so they can take that over while he works on the other things.

Food Storage: 132 sacks of flour in storage

Land: You have 17 farms, and most of your land is being explored, check bellow for reports.

Population: 197 people inside your village, 83 people outside

Villager Opinion: They are still in high spirits from your lords apparant change of heart. Its been a while since their hopes were rewarded like that.

Neighbors Opinion: Well, your daughter has been the talk of late. Your name is not brought up in polite conversation.

Courts Opinion: Hm

General Populace: mhm

Event: You've had a good event!

My Lord,

Those strange tree outcropping were surronding a small puddle, whats interesting is there was some strange stone around it. One of the boys said the stone was 'limestone' Not sure what limestone is, but he said it was popular stone for a rock quarry.

- Scouting party leader Lyons Rev

Bjorn Steelheart

Jarl,

That 'solid hill' I was gonna look at it to see if it was a good place to build a strong watch tower at but, we found something. The hill... Its not made of good solid dirt. Its metal. We dug a little and just half a foot in, metal. We tried to die some more, but the metal kept going. We believe the entire hill is a giant bowl of metal. We decided to camp here for awhile to see what else we could dig up.

-Krogar

Sir Bjorn Steelheart,

You have been invited to the Dukes Grand Tournament that will be taking place next week. Your attendence is expected, and the Duke looks forward to seeing you in action.

Sincerly, the dukes ever faithful steward

Income: -58s 05c at 85%

Total Gold: 1035g 60s 04c

Buildings being built/time left:
Mill: Your standard mill with a nice windmill at the top which helps give boost to the large grinder inside that turns wheat into something a little more edible. 3 turns until completion with 20 people working on it being paid 8 silver each.

Abattoir: Your slaughter house is under construction. At the moment it is merely going to be a large fenced barn with tanning racks and of course, hooks in which to hang the sides of beef to drain it of blood. You have 20 people working on it being paid 8 silver each, construction should be done in 3 weeks.

Beehives/distillery/brewery to be expanded into something that can create enough mead to be traded: You have 20 people working on this as well being paid 8 silver each, construction should be done in 4 weeks.

Standing Army:
15 veteran Norse warriors wearing chain-mail and leathers being paid 10 silver
21 norse recruits being trained with axe and swords and no armor. 8 silver until training is finished. 2 turns until basic training is complete.
15 bretonnian recruits being trained with bows and spears, no armor. 8 silver until traing is complete. 1 turn until basic training is complete.
21 swords, axes, and spears being made, one turn for the spears, two turns for the swords and axes.
You purchased 15 longbows from the merchant.

Food Storage: 243 sacks of flour

Land: You have 41 small farms, in all your land you have 52 head of cattle, 13 work horses, 1 warhorse, and a few donkeys, and your land is being explored.

Population: 132 people living inside your village, 205 people living outside the village

Villagers opinion: Your victory over the troll and the number of goblin and skaven heads caused a great celebration to erupt in the village. Only the wives of those dead men did not show up, but who has time to worry about grieving widows when there is ale to drink? So much ale was drank over the week that the Inn ran out and had to order new barrels.

Neighbors opinion: You are still a fool and a dirty barbarian even if you bested a troll in single combat and killed a hundred goblins with your hammer (Tales tend to get exaggerated.)

Courts opinion: The news of your duel with the troll and your single handed slaying of an army of greenskins spread far and fast. The tale will probably be replaced by another tale of heroism soon, but at least, for however long, the name Bjorn Steelheart is known.

General Populace opinion: The people are not quite as good at hearing news as the Court, but they still did hear of the tale of a lone knight against a horde of greenskins... however, it went from being a wild Norse, to a wild berserker, to a wild demon, to the green knight, to a lone Grail Knight.

Event: None




As The Steelheart and him Warriors rode forth, they sighted up ahead a trio of riders coming down the dirt road towards them, it appeared to consist of one slip of a girl and two heavily armed Knights.

Bjorn raised a hand, halting his riders.

"The hell are they?"

He demanded, bluntly, standing on tip toe, the Steward endeavoured to whisper to the Jarl that the girl was most likely a Maiden of the Lady, flanked by her two Knight protectors.

"Ah... A Sorcerer an' two extra blades? Well if they want room an' board they can bloody well work fer it."

"Hail!"

Bjorn called as the riders approached,

"I am Jarl Steelheart an' ye are on my land, yer welcome tae stay but ye will be expected to contribute yer sword-arms and magic tae the keeping of this land while ye are here."

The Barbarian turned Knight spurred his charger forward and looked the trio up and down,

"We 'ave reports of savage beasts roaming my lands, Orcs, Skaven maybe even Beastmen, it matters not, I intend to hunt them down an' place their heads on spikes above my keep, we could use the extra blades an' even magic, so fall in, I'm afraid yer baths an' beds will have tae wait, there's fightin' tae be done!

Prove yerselves Warrior tae me an' we'll talk more upon our return."

And so the Wild Hunt rode out, The Jarl, his Hurscarls, two Knights and the Sorceress cut an imposing sight as they galloped through the countryside, past lonely homes, hamlets and farmsteads in search of the tracks of which Krogan had spoke... And the creatures that made them...

Lyra's heart nearly exploded out of her chest, they were doing what? Savage beast? Orcs? Skaven... what were skaven? Beastmen? She felt herself starting to get woozy, how could they expect her to do this? She.. she couldn't right? It was too soon, she wasn't prepared for all this, and not only that, but the men looked so barbaric! Their beards alone were revolting as she saw bits of food in one, did they not shave like proper knights? Their leader seemed so crass...

"Calm yourself girl." Hector said. She wished she could see his face to see what emotions were playing across his face, but the blasted helmet blocked her chance! The much younger Errant Knight Alis pulled off his helmet, and flashed her a confident smile, "I can handle any savage beast. You are safe with me." While she did appreciate his kindness in saying so, the baby fat clinging to his cheeks didn't help ease her fear, but nonetheless, she trotted her horse after the barbarians, her two protectors following close.. well for awhile. Sir Alis couldn't control his eagerness, so spurred his horse on catching up to the barbarian in the plate-mail which he assumed was the leader.

"Hail! I am Sir Alis." He said trying to make himself appear more 'man' like to the large, bearded, and obviously veteran warrior, "The others are Lady Lyra, and.." He said his voice lowering, "Sir Hector.." and despite trying to make a good impression, he could not keep the reverence from his voice.

Bjorn Steelheart turned in his saddle at the sound of hooves and looked the young Knight Errant up and down as the boy pulled his horse alongside the Jarl's.

"Hail Sir Alis,"

The Norseman replied, with a nod,
"I am Bjorn Steelheart, Jarl o' these lands, although ye might call me a 'Knight' in yer tounge..."

The big man glanced back as the Knight introduced his companions and frowned slightly,
"The big lad in Armour looks like 'e can handle himself... But why does yer Shaman look so nervous?"

The Steelheart stroked his beard, wondering if his Steward had been right about the girl, Sorcerer's and magic changed between peoples and races, he knew, but she did not seem like the wise and powerful Sages to which the Norse were accustomed.

Bjorn glanced back at the boy,

"So... 'Ave any of ye seen combat before?"

Alis nodded eagerly, happy that the barbarian seemed friendly at least. Lyra was good conversation at times, and Hector, while being everything a young knight aspired to be, was a little too cold. Jarl? He almost said it out loud, but he did not want to seem foolish, so kept his mouth closed as the man explained. The armor said he was someone important, but that made sense, rumors about barbarians in the land, and now meeting this man, it all clicked.

"Oh, shes new." Alis said happy to feel like he was being useful, "She just came back from the Fae world. She has no experience in this world, with men, or with monsters, so its my job to protect her." He said beaming with pride at the concept; puffing his chest out a little, "And Sir Hector is a Grail Knight. A living saint, one of the chosen of the Lady, herself. Greatest knights in the whole kingdom. There is nothing that can kill them." He said, sure it was childish to think so, but it is what he had been taught since a child, and the dream of being a Grail Knight himself was still with him.

"Well..." Alis started, his chest deflating, "No.. I haven't been in a battle... or a fight." He mumbled. Other Errants his age had already killed numerous beastmen, "We ran into a large group of bandits, but Sir Hector took care of them while I guarded Lyra."

"B-but I have been training since I was only seven winters old." He said trying to regain some form of composure.
Bjron threw back his head and laughed heartily, clapping the young Knight Errant hard on the back in a friendly fashion as he did so.

"Ah I guess we all had tae start somewhere, by Ulric!"

He fixed Sir Alis with twinkling eyes and grinned wickedly,

"No experience with men, Eh Lad..? Not thought o' tryin' yer luck then?"

The Steelheart chuckled and shook his head,

"Well worry not, yer in good company here an' I imagine yer Grail Knight will protect yer Lady well enough, givin' ye plenty of time tae enjoy yer first combat, should this hunt go to plan."

Bjorn stroked his beard with one large, gauntleted hand,

"Since seven years o' age, Hmm? Well time tae put all that practice to good use, stick close to me lad, I'll see ye through this!"

The blow knocked the air out of his lungs causing Alis to gasp for breath. The man was far larger then him, and his hand alone was like a dinner plate. Ulric? Well, it was probably his own gods, but the next comment had his face flashing bright red, "O-of course not!" He said trying to appear tougher then he was, "Touching a Lady is considered a serious crime that the Goddess, herself, will punish. We don't protect her from those kind of things.." Alis said, the idea still causing him to be a bright scarlet, "I-I would never do something like that.."

"I will fight with honor." Alis said sitting up straighter, happy to have the conversation move on to something else, "You can count on me." He said will all the youthful bravado of a teenage 'hero'. "B-but, I don't need you to watch over me... I am a full knight now.." He mumbled.

Over the plains, the sounds of squeaking voices and small squeals sounded. The clash of steel on steel resounding throughout the nearby lands... whatever it was, there was a lot of them.

Bjorn grinned wickedly,

"Nay? Well dinnae worry lad, if ye survive this the wenches back at the keep will be oh so keen tae hear of yer heroic deeds... I'll introduce you to a couple later..."

The Norseman winked, before continuing,

"I'm not offering to babysit you lad, don't worry, but merely follow my orders an' do as the men do an' ye will be fine."
Suddenly, high pitched squeaks and the clash of steel could be heard echoing from up ahead, sitting up in his saddle, Bjorn frowned, suddenly alert, like a wolf scenting its quarry.

"Sounds like what were here for,"

He growled, turning in his saddle he nodded to the Maiden and her silent protector.

"Ye best stay back with yer escort, lass, we may well need use of yer healing magic after the fight but dinnae worry, stay far from the meele itself, if it starts to go badly fer us, get yerself to safety."

He turned back to Alis and nodded,

"Here's yer chance lad, do yer Ancestors proud!"

Raising his voice, he continued,

"Norsemen, lets Ride!"

As great cheer went up from the gathered Huscarls as a dozen booted feet put heels to the flanks of their mounts and Norseman and Knights alike surged forward towards the distant clash of steel...

Alis could not stop the blood that rushed to his head nor the heat radiating from his cheeks. The mere thought was almost enough to cause him to loosen his grip and fall off his horse, a grievous embarrassment to any knight. "R-right.." Was all he could manage. His instinct was to say no, he was fun as it seemed so... personal, and as a knight, he knew he was not supposed to be doing such things, but he could not repress the male hormones that jumped at the thought.

"I will." Alis said tightening his hold on the reins. He did not have to as he was a knight and technically Bjorn wasn't higher of rank as he held no title but 'Sir', but it was out of respect for the obviously older and more experienced warrior that he said so. '

The young knight jumped at the sounds the rush of adrenaline and fear rushing through his blood. "I am ready." He said placing his hand on the hilt of his blade.

Lyra didn't respond as the sounds of whatever was bellow had robbed her of her voice, so instead she gave a small nod. Hector, as always, said nothing, his helm showing little of what passed through his mind. All he did was bring his sword out a few inches so that it would slid free quickly should he have need of it.

The sight that greeted the Norse and Bretonnian knight was... breathtaking. It must have been a hundred or two gathered in the field below, and for a second Alir, and even some of the Norsemen prepared for a retreat for their was no hope against such a force, but then... they noticed something. It was not one group, but two. Half the enemy was shorter figures with black hooded covering their face, but everyone once in awhile a man spotted a small green army lash out with spear, and they were fighting an equally large group of odd creatures. They were bigger then the cloaked figures, and had fur hides. They resembled overgrown rats walking on two legs, and whatever was going on, it seemed they bore ill will towards each other.

Skaven met Night Goblin and they fought with a ferocity that was unexpected in their normally cowardly race. Blood ran in rivers as skaven and goblin hacked and clawed at each other, both sides leaders pushing them on towards greater acts of violence. The skaven were lead by a rather heavily armored rat, who ensured to stay far behind the front lines, whipping and cutting at skaven who backed away, and the goblins were leaded by a taller goblin who, to everyone's astonishment, was throwing green bolts of magic at the skaven frying them and pummeling them into the earth.

One of the Norse pointed to a hulking figure inside the goblins ranks and gave voice to the name all men feared, "Troll!"

Bjorn's brows furrowed as he observed the spectacle below him, The Steelheart's men watched their Jarl expectantly, gone was the jovial man of just a few minutes before and in his place now sat the focused, experienced Norse Warrior who had seen their Mercenary unit to victory many times before...

"Well now..."

The Norseman growled, stroking his beard with one gauntleted hand,

"What 'ave we here...?"

The Huscarls shifted in their saddles, some with excitement, some with nerves as they watched the scene unfold below them, Skaven and Night Goblin abroad in daylight... And locked in mortal combat without the usual screaming, hiding, begging for mercy and acts of cowardice...

A strange sight indeed.

All this information and more passed through Bjorn's mind as the big man considered his options.
"Seems the Duke thought it would be funny tae tithe me a Warzone..."

The Barbarian grunted, his beard twitching.

Turning in his saddle, Bjorn looked hard at his men.

"Well?! Are We Norsemen or weak Southling City Dwellers?! Since when did we fear Skaven an' Goblins?! Hells... Since when did we fear Battle an' Death fer Khartnath's sake?!"

The Steelheart unslung his massive Warhammer and hefted it in one large fist.

"We'll split into two groups an ride round the battle in pincer movement, out targets are the Chieftains, we strike hard, fast and true, as we would from our Longships, I shall take half of ye an' go after the Goblin Shaman... Alis, here's yer chance lad, ye take the other half an' go after the Skaven Warlord."

"We ride in hard, we don't hang about, we cut down any in our way and strike at the heart of these armies, then we get clear, stay on the move... The first one to die gets the Drinks in at Valhalla and waits fer the rest of us!"

A storm of laughter went up from the Norsemen as Bjorn threw back his head and howled, the cry was taken up by his Warriors as weapons flashed from sheath's, boots touched to horses flanks and the Nosemen set off as one, riding hard and fast down the hill...

Splitting neatly off into their two groups as they charged, the Warriors of Norsca descended upon the field below like a pack of starving wolves, eyes fixed upon their prey...!

It came unexpected to Skaven and Goblins when savage humans rode in and smashed them from behind. Axes rose and fell as the two groups hit the rear of the fighting masses. The norsemen hit the skaven hard as they are sliced and trampled by horses cutting out nearly their entire back rank and sending the ratmen reeling from the blow as seven of their kin fall in one savage ride. So many die, that they can not even strike back as the path is littered with their fallen, but the young Alir holding his faith in the lady close to his heart charges the leader of the skaven, and belows his challenge over the fight.

Much to his disappointment the skaven watches him for a second, before retreating deeper into the mass of skavens. Their lives were cheap, the leaders was not, but he ensured to still whip and bite as his fellows to ensure they fought on. Alir rought with fury at being snubbed turns his anger on the rest of the skaven, striking out with his blade as his horse lashed out in anger killing another three and this time fully destroying the entire back rank of the skaven.

Bjorn and his men met with similar success destroying almost the entire back rank of the goblins with the pure ferocity of the charge. Eight goblins fell to axes, warhammer, and horse, but unlike the skaven, the goblins were using spears, and so they lashed back jabbing and stabbing at the norse, most of the blows miss or leave small scratches, but one lucky blow passes under a norse's chin stabbing through the norse warriors windpipe and taking him off his horse. Sadly, for Bjorn and his men, the Goblin Shaman was deep within their ranks, and perhaps luckily, the troll was in their 'front' ranks killing skaven.

Despite the chaos, skaven and goblin continued to hack and slash at one another. The goblin horde stabs back, but perhaps due to their rather weak use of weaponry they kill only one skaven despite the numerous spear thrust they sent their way. The goblin shaman begins to whisper jumping around wildly as green energy flows through his limbs, and a collect shout of 'Ere we go!' rushes from the goblin's mouths as they attack again with renewed fury! But even with this new surge, they were not able to hurt the norsemen, and only kill another skaven... the rest of their blows bouncing off the skavens armor.

The skaven jab back killing only one goblin... and it is no wonder their battle had lasted so long before the norsemen had arrived. The troll gave off a great war cry and began his sweep crushing three skaven crushing them under his feet and snapping their spines with his big meaty hand.

The goblins fight on despite being cut off guard, but the skaven begin to wavier and finally break under the onslaught of troll and norsemen. They scatter in all directions, their command fleeing with them. Alir and his men give chase, too caught up in their bloodlust to notice anything else...

Bjorn cursed out loud as Skarin, the tall blonde Huscarl riding beside him, took a Goblin spear through the throat and fell, blood frothing from the wound.

In retaliation, The Steelheart bought his Warhammer down hard on the creatures upturned, snarling face, shattering its skull like glass and sending a vivid shower of gore spraying in all directions!

Still glowering, Bjorn thrust the large, iorn spike that topped his hammers head clean into a second Goblins chest, before twisting the weapon savagely and wrenching it free!

Another wicked swing caught an unsuspecting Goblin square in the temple as Bjorn thundered past, sending the creatured head snapping round with a sickening 'Crunch!' as its neck snapped like a twig...

Thrusting his bloodied hammer above his head, The Norseman howled out a savage, resounding battle cry in his native tounge...

"Skallwn für den Skallen Thron!"

He howled... as all across the front lines, the Skaven forces began to break and run, tails between their legs the Ratmen fled the battle ground, pursued by a mounted mass of howling Norse berserker's and the Bretonnian Knight...
Lowering his hammer, Bjorn Steelheart pointed its gore encrusted spike at the Goblin Shaman, cowering within the ranks of its black robed fellows and nodded, grinning savagely through bloodstained teeth as his Warriors reformed around him...

The message could not be clearer, The Norseman was issuing a challenge.

The goblin shaman made a unfriendly gesture that was well-known throughout all the world, he bent over and lifted his robe revealing to the world, and to Bjorn particular, his shiny green behind. The nearby goblins crackled with amusement... well, the ones who weren't locked in mortal combat with the norsemen. With the skaven fleeing, the large troll crashed through the goblins crushing two of the unluckier ones under his strides.

The norsemen continued their fight with the goblins crushing six more as their horses caved in skulls with their frightened kicks, and axes split little heads. Bjorn continued on his warpath striking down yet another three goblins as his horse crushed another one, wiping out yet another rank of the goblins.. but still the green tide surged forth as goblins jabbed over their fallen comrades.. well, comrades in a loose sense as more then a few goblins had dragged their fallen brethren behind the front lines to eat their dead bodies, but comrades nonetheless.

Anyways, getting back to the main battle, yet another norse warrior fell to a lucky blow biting through the chainmail and nearly ripping out the mans heart killing him instantly. The mighty troll reached the front lines and picked up a dead goblin swinging it at the norse warriors as a makeshift club, but the norse manage to scramble out of the way of the clumsy blows.

The shaman was not about to let the norsemans challenge go completely unanswered as he danced filled with green energy and made a motion much like a headbutt, but for whatever reason, the 'eadbutt didn't seem to work.

Alis and the five norsmen ride through the fleeing skavens hacking as they go cutting down 10 more of the fleeing vermin in their pursuit.

Under the furious assault, the goblins and the shaman flee! The troll, if a smarter creature, would have fled, but it lacked the common sense of the goblins, so while the smaller green creatures fled, the troll stood its ground, roaring its anger.
Bjorn actually laughed at the Goblins response to his challenge, before hefting his Hammer once more.

"I will fuck yer corpse."

He promised the Shaman, brining his Hammer down hard on the skull of another Goblin without as he spoke even turning his head.

With a roar of cruel laughter, the Norsemen struck again, axe and sword rose and fell with keen savagery as the Huscarls tugged extra weapons from their broad leather belts, shields slung over their backs and out of the way, giving them the freedom to maneuver.

The Steelheart rammed his iron shod boot down hard into the sneering face of a Goblin trying to clutch at the reigns of his steed, sending blood, bile and fangs flying in all directions as he rode down another of the foul creatures, crushing its frail body beneath his Stallions hooves.

Another Goblin, perhaps more stupid with that its fellows or just trying to gain affinity with its Chief, had dropped its spear and, with its robes hoisted up around its waist was proceeding to emulate the Shaman in wriggling its bare posterior at the Norsemen...

Spurring his mount on, Bjorn made straight for the creature and, lowering the steel point of his Warhammer like a lance proceeded to ram the Weapon... 'Home.'

The stricken Goblins ear splitting shriek was almost lost amongst the clamour of its fellows as they turned and began to flee from the savage Norse onslaught...

However before the Warriors could savour their victory, the massive form of the Cave Troll came lumbering to the fore, its small, beady eyes narrowed with malice, great ropes of drool hanging from its yellowed tusks, the creature was either far too savage or stupid to fear the Norse marauders before it...

Bjorn's bellow of fury matched that of the Trolls as he sighted the fallen form of Hurun, laying amongst the Goblin dead, it appeared a lucky spear thrust had skewered the Warriors heart in the melee, slaying the bold Norseman before he even struck the ground.

Throwing back his head, Bjorn let out another savage howl, that was again taken up by his remaining Warriors, lowering his head, the Norseman fixed the Troll with a glare of pure hatred as a familiar red mist began to descend across the Jarls vision...

Steelhearts body began to shake with rage, muscles bulging with pent up violence and adrenaline before the Warrior spurred his horse straight at the troll, howling in wordless rage once more, the usually jovial Norseman was began to foam wildly at the mouth...!

The remaining Huscarls took up the cry, spurring themselves forward with similar savagery as the Frenzy began to descend upon them all...

The goblins were still running using the distraction that the troll brought them to escape, but what was interesting was they seemed to 'vanish' behind a few trees to the east, what lay on the other side was a large hole that led to a series of vast tunnels. Alir and the other five norsemen continued to chase down skaven, but only Alir on his swifter bretonnian warhorse was able to catch another splitting its skull with the force of his blade. By now, the skaven were far to spread out and far for pursuit to be of any help as it would probably only leave them lost, alone, and stranded, so they fought back their urges and pulled on their reins stopping their horses from pursuing any farther.

The frenzied warriors turned to face the troll, but the troll had the advantage of being singled-minded and not having been distracted by the fleeing goblins. A huscal was smacked off his horse, his bone cavity crushed, but before he could even cry out in pain, the troll lifted another warrior off his horse and with a sickening crunch, smashed the man inside his hand.

The surviving huscal struck first his axe biting deep, but when the warrior pulled it out, the Trolls flesh seemed to instantly repair itself, the wound closing itself as good as new. The Jarl struck next with his might warhammer, but the hammer seemed to just bounce off the trolls flesh, and in anger, it turned to the Jarl and prepared to give out its most deadly of weapons, its vomit, but perhaps out sheer heroism, the last huscal rode his horse in the way, the vomit bathing him, but as he screamed in pain as the acid ate away at armor and flesh, he could only hope his sacrifice was not in vain.

The Jarl in a fury struck back planting three powerful strikes on the Troll hearing bone shatter beneath the blows, but once again, the Troll started healing... but it did not seem like it could heal all its wounds as it hobbled along, still intent on crushing the Jarl, but it was heavily injured, that much was obvious. The Troll struck back, but its slowed blows never landed, and once more the Jarl struck back looking to end the battle once and for all and succeeded, crushing the Trolls skull. The large beast lumbered around for a few minutes before finally falling, twitching twice.. and then lay still.

Sir Rickard Drakon,

You have been invited to the Dukes Grand Tournament that will be taking place next week. Your attendence is expected, and the Duke looks forward to seeing you.

Sincerly, the dukes ever faithful steward.

Income: 39g 33s 75c at 80%

Total Gold: 1084g 61s 50c

Buildings being built/time left:
7 watchtowers being built by 28 people (4 on each) being paid 8 silver a piece, they will be done in three turns. They are very simple watchtowers with a tall, four point base that are tree logs dug into the ground and nailed to the small floor that the watchmen will stand upon. There will be a small railing so a drunken guard does not fall off, but no roof to speak of. There are a few 2 by 6's crossing the four logs giving it extra support.

Standing Army:
40 Men-At-Arms with Chain-mail, short spear, shield, and sword being paid 10 silver.
18 recruits armed with... and unarmored, they are being paid only 5 silver but are being housed in the barracks.

Food Storage: 201 sacks of flour

Land: You have 32 farms and your land it is being explored by three riders as you gave all the free horses (besides your warhorse) to them to use.

Population: 121 villagers, 213 people outside of village

Villagers opinion: Still the better then average lord. Your people still neither love nor hate you.

Neighbors opinion: At the end of the day, you are a boy living in your fathers shadow.

Courts opinion: Your fathers name is known in Lyonesse, but yours is not.

General Populace opinion: No... your father has never done anything truly noble or great that has marked him in hush spoken tavern legends, neither have you, so they don't know or care about you... yet.

Event: Not this time.

My Lord Drakon,

We have been traveling for sometime, and we ran into a merchant who swears up and down that a dragon lives in the neighbors land next to a very small village. I do not know if this is true or not, but I thought it would be good to tell you anyways.

The merchant held us up for some time, so sadly, we have not many any real progress yet.

- Roger Courne

Sir Fiora Benedict,

You have been invited to the Dukes Grand Tournament that will be taking place next week. Your attendence is expected, and the Duke looks forward to seeing you.

Sincerly, the dukes ever faithful steward.

Income: 40g 43s 25c at 90%

Total Gold: 1080g 68s 50c

Building being built/time left: N/A

Standing Army:
15 Men-at-Arms with short spears, sword, chain-mail, and shields at 10 silver a piece
10 Men-at-Arms with 10 bows, daggers, and chain-mail at 10 silver a piece

Food Storage: 285 sacks of flour in storage

Land: You have 44 small farms and your land is mostly unexplored

Population: 128 villagers, 221 people living outside.

Villager Opinion: You are still the witch that has corrupted their king!... well... maybe... possibly... Their point is still valid!!

Neighbors Opinion: You are still the respected individual you were before. They would not dare go against you directly.

Courts Opinion: As someone who sees the King on a frequent basis, you are someone the King's court sees often. While the Lyonesse court does not see you very often, your reputation still preceeds you.

General Populace: Wicked white witch of the west?

Event...

Your villagers have been hearing... strange noises coming from the well, but the Men-At-Arms have dismissed such claims everytime as it could just be people trying to get attnetion, and they do not want to waste their time with it. People have been falling ill in the village, and the apothecary cannot seem to explain why or how...

Last night, a half-eaten body was found in the alleyway, and it looks like it belonged to a child! It has got the men and the villagers scared stiff, and their fears were answered when early in the morning, a flood of large dog sized rats flooded out from the well and into the town eating at well. They are making their way towards your storage intent on eating all the food there... and anyone who gets in their way.

Damien was watching the soldiers train with Avanc when he recieved the message from the duke. There were many knights of the realm that could make very lucrative trade partners. This fact made the wanting to go even more overwhelming. He sent for Renald so that he may discuss with him. He would need things to be done in his absence.

"Can you manage while I go to this outing?" Damien asked Renald when the captain arrived. "Yes sir, I think I can. Is there anything that is needed to be done while your gone?" Renald asked. "Yes, I'm glad you asked. I want you to sent scouting parties to explore the territory, especially the mountain. Tell them to search for mineral resources of any kind. Gold and silver are preferable but I wouldn't mind iron, bronze, or even lead. I want twelve scouts to search the entire area, they'll be paid...6 silver for mapping the area and those who find mineral deposits will be paid 10 silver. If any are found keep it organized and inform me when I get back. Also check the bird keeper to see how the pidgeons are doing as well. I shall get ready for this event." Damien walked to his chambers after he finished talking.

Important Events
Scouting parties are being sent out by the pairs to search for any mineral resources in the area. They are being paid 6 silver for mapping and 10 silver if they find anything important.

The large hall was bustling as numerous knights sat at the large table taking part in the normal knightly activity of boasting. Some spoke of their mighty conquest against orcs, some of ratmen, some of imaginary creatures intent on earning the respect of the more experienced knight, and then you had the older knights talking of the conquest in the bedroom. Serving girls danced around ensuring to stay just out of the range of the drunker men. Knights or not, they were still men at the end of the day... well at least most of them. In fact, just a second later a buxom blond serving woman was pulled into the lap of a old knight while his young son hid his face in shame at his lecherous father. The women knights were slightly more... polite, but only slightly as they were 'one of the guys' laughing as the older knight pulled the woman into his lap, and one rather rough looking lady knight even pulled a serving girl of her own into her lap causing an eruption of laughter.

A older gentleman with a sweeping gray mustache and long gray hair finally stood up raising his goblet waiting in vain for silence, and it wasn't until a servant smashed a rather large wooden cane against the stone floor did the voices gradually fall silent, the only sound was that of a certain blond woman attempting to wrest herself away from an old knight. "Welcome!" The richly dressed knight rumbled, "I am glad you all could spare the time to come to my castle, eat my food, drink my wine, and harass my serving girls!" He lifted his free left hand to stop the chuckles, "Now, we have some new knights I would like to welcome, Damien Le Mort, Alexander Lancaster and his daughter Luxa Lancaster, Keren Chaikin, Fiora Benedict... who some of you have heard stories about, Rickard Drakon of the esteemed Drakon, and that" He said pointing with his goblet to the bearded brute in the back, "ruffian is Bjorn Steelheart." Many of the other knights simply nodded to be polite to the duke as few of them liked these people or cared about them.

"For those of you who don't know, but came here to eat my food anyways, I am Duke Lucan Byron, and this," He said once more motioning to the old, but handsome brown-haired woman whose sharp green eyes where narrowed in a rather intense glare aimed at the Duke, "Is my lovely wife, Abigail." He downed his goblet, wiping his mustache off with the back of his hand with a content sigh for the finely aged wine, "Now, tomorrow you will all be fighting with eachother bitterly for honor, and mostly for prizes... while people scream at you and wave." He said smiling, "But tonight you drink!"

The conversation around Damien was amusing enough. The knight that boasted of how honor was the way of battle was incredibly thick headed. That...what was his name?...Alexander fellow however was one that would live long, prosperous too. Before the knight argueing with Alexander left the room Damien decided to tell him off his own thoughts. "As far as being remembered goes, Sir Knight, it's simple. History remembers the victor for it is the victor who writes the history books." A smile flashed across his face as he looked of to the clever knight who was talking to the horned woman. Waltzing over to them with his mead in one hand Damien went about to complimate the knight on his choice of words. "That was a good show. I thought for sure that man would have tried to pull a knife on you but I guess he decided it might not be such a good idea. I am Damien Le Mort by the way."

Adara looked at the male that extended his hand to her and smiled. "Adara Chaikin, mother of the horned Knight Keren Chaikin." She explained. Keren raised her eyebrow as her mother turned back to her. "Keren, love. This is Alexander. I believe he's a knight as well."

"Ah, well, it's a pleasure to meet you. I hope that we will never have to battle one another." She muttered, almost interested in the man. Adara smiled at her before turning back to Alexander, who was joined by another knight.

"It's nice to meet you, Knight Damien." Adara bowed her head in the traditional Ke'ratan greeting. Keren had slid off the table to possibly interact with the other Knights.