"Seven Knights"

[It Is Just Me]

"Seven Knights"

The OOC Thread

Interest Check

Over four days, the seven friends rode into the riverside village one at a time, coming from all directions. Kylen himself arrived at East Bank using the ferry that linked the small burg with the lands to the west ... his lands. He'd wanted to see first hand, before the others' arrivals, what waited for them. He'd expected to be disappointed; he had expected to be this much so.

With his father's death, shortly after Kylen left for the Eastern Wars, the servants working in and about the Udall Keep, as well as most of the farmers -- those employed by the Duke, as well as the tenant farmers renting land from the Duchy -- simply picked up their things and left. Without a Nobleman to employ a Guard, and a Guard to protect the lands, the security that made life bearable in these harsh lands was no longer there; the people fled, some ahead of the Woodland Raiders, some -- tragically -- only after the Raiders' raping and pillaging.

Kylen and the others had returned to The Continent to rebuild the lives they left behind. Kylen held title to the lands to the west of the Muddy River; he had a place to return to after six long years of bloody conflict. The others, though -- for reasons of their own -- had no where else to go. They'd come here to East Bank with Kylen with the understanding that he would put them up until they decided what to do with the remainder of their lives.

Now, however, seeing how devastated the Duchy truly was, Kylen doubted he could feed and care for himself, let alone his six friends. There were cattle and goats running free on the pasture lands, though Kylen had no idea who they belonged to, if they belonged to anyone at all. The population of the Duchy had been devastated by plague, war, and emigration to the Western Cities, and Kylen didn't doubt at all that the animals he'd seen were feral, hunted by the locals when hungry, herded to stalls when the funds of a sale were needed.

The vast fields of grain that had once fed hundreds -- thousands -- across the Duchy and beyond were now weed clogged and over run by wild animals. The aqueduct and canals were abandoned, filling the once-drained lower fields with spring time rains. And the road leading from the ferry west to the Keep's entrance had been ravaged by run off, its bridges and culverts stripped of their stone work for use else where by the locals.

It wasn't going to take months to put the Duchy back on a stable footing, as Kylen had hoped. Rebuilding Udall was going to take years.

And, of course, there was the possibility it wouldn't happen at all. Life was changing across The Continent. Political and financial forces were threatening the Feudal System that had ruled over these lands for centuries. The Peasantry was asking for more from the Nobility in return for their labor; and, with the softening of Residency and Habitation Laws by the King, peasant families could now simply leave the lands they'd worked for generations -- be it as well cared for employees or slave-like serfs -- and go find greener pastures in neighboring Duchies, far off Counties, or even overseas Countries.

These were different times. Luckily, Kylen was a different man than his father had been. He was certain that, if he could simply secure his lands against the Woodland Raiders, Highwaymen, and competing Nobles, he could rebuild Udall into the once proud Duchy it had been in his youth.



In the back room of The Black Briar, at the appointed day and time, Kylen found all six of his loyal friends assembled about a long, oak table. He gave the men who had served with and for him a harsh, disapproving look ... then allowed a smile to spread slowly across his lips until finally, all seven were chuckling, laughing, and howling as one.

He circled the table, clasping hands and bodies, thanking each man for being here, before ending up at the head of the table, standing over them with a proud expression on his face. He looked to the table's top -- the very empty table top -- with a disapproving glare. He bellowed, "This won't do!"

He stomped out to the tavern's kitchen and called to the Keeper, "Food...! Drink...! Wenches for my men!"

The Inn Keeper, standing behind the long bar pouring a large stein full of thick, dark beer called back sarcastically and nearly as forcefully, "Gold...! Silver...! Jewels for my coin purse!"

Kylen's eye brows raised as the Keeper headed away from him to serve a paying customer, shocked at the man's response to his demand. In the Wars, simply entering a tavern with your men and your arms was enough to get you fed, drunk, and laid without question.

Of course, this wasn't the Eastern Wars. But it was the Udall Duchy, and he was the Duke of Udall. He crossed the tavern's hard wood floor, his heavy footfalls alerting the Keeper to his approach and causing the man to turn just before Kylen reached him.

Kylen stared up at the Keeper with a hard, authoritative expression; it was hard to hold the look as the man he was trying to intimidate was at least six inches taller and likely out weighed Kylen by half his own weight.

The Keeper leaned forward, over Kylen, and repeated quieter but firmly, "Gold ... silver ... jewels..."

"I have none of those, my good man," Kylen said, beginning to back away slowly. When he was several feet away, he extended his belly out a bit and began blowing up his cheeks, mocking the man's rather obese nature.

The Keeper's face tightened with anger as he set aside the empty wooden tray in one hand and tossed the dirty cleaning rag toward the bar. "Stranger ... I'm going to teach you a little something about manners."

With his buttocks now forward -- out of danger -- Kylen quickly pulled at the thick leather thong crossing his chest. His sword fell straight down from below the cape flowing down his back from his shoulders, its weight driving its tip into the old, wearing wood.

The approaching Keeper hesitated, watching as Kylen left, then back, then laid a hand upon the hilt of the large, polished weapon. He smiled to the Keeper. "You were saying...?"

The Keepers demeanor changed dramatically ... but only for a moment. Slowly, from every direction, men began rising from their seats, some pulling daggers from belts, others retrieving work tools from their leaning spots against the walls; one man stepped to the fire box and began handing thick limbs to the men about him, his eyes never leaving Kylen's face.

Kylen began chuckling ... then ... began laughing hysterically. As the men around him stared in disbelief, Kylen pulled his sword from the floor and raised it, blade down, hilt up; the gold and silver medallion in the weapons hilt caught the light of the fire and oil lamps. Kylen could see in the Keeper's expression that he recognized the symbol; the big man relaxed his ready-for-battle stance, and his expression softened.

"Lord Kylen...?" he asked softly, then louder with more certainty, repeated, "Lord Kylen ... you've come home...?"

"Yes, you big oaf," Kylen answered, "I'm disappointed that you didn't recognize me, Hormith. It's only been six years!"

Suddenly the Keeper surged forward, arms outstretched. Kylen knew what was coming and quickly jabbed his sword downward to the right to get it clear. Before he had a chance to stop it, Hormith picked Kylen up in a mighty bear hug and began dancing about in a circle, laughing and hooting and praising his old friend for coming home alive.

When finally the big man dropped him to his feet, Kylen jerked a thumb over his shoulder and asked again, "So my friends are expecting food and drink and--"

Hormith spun away suddenly and grabbed at the first Tavern Wench he saw. "Food and drink for my friends! Now! All of you, up, up, up!"

Hormith hustled all of the women in his employ out of their seats with the other customers, shoving them either toward the kitchen to get libations or toward the back room to begin serving Kylen's men. As the other customers began complaining, Hormith ordered them to sit and relax or to get out or just to simply shut up. "My friend is home! The rest of you I see every day!"

Kylen shook his head in amazement, watching his childhood friend move so fast. Hormith had missed out on the glory -- and horror -- of the Eastern wars because of physical ailments that prevented him doing just about anything but stand in place and serve ale and mutton. To see him so energetic now was good for Kylen's soul.

"Back, back to the party!" the Keeper ordered, grabbing Kylen and pushing him toward the back of the tavern, still laughing with joy. The back room was transformed: trays and pitchers and bowls covered the long table, featuring anything and everything Hormith's kitchen was able to produce on a moment's notice. And the men each had a woman in his lap, while even more moved about the table, filling flagons or caressing soft hands across stubble covered cheeks and chins.

Kylen watched with joy as the Keeper moved about, introducing himself and telling stories to his friend's other friends about their years in the Duchy, about the mayhem they'd caused, the women they'd deflowered, the enemies they'd dispatched. Some of the stories were tall tales -- others were flat out fiction -- but Kylen was overjoyed to see someone who had known him in better times talk about him in such a way.



The sun was beginning to peek over the mountains when at last Kylen and Hormith ran out of both stories to tell and the energy to tell them. One last woman had remained behind for Kylen, falling asleep on a padded wood bench with her head in her lap and her hand up his trousers. Hormith shook her awake and ordered her to take Kylen to her bed.

"Go ahead," Kylen told her, pushing her politely toward the log staircase leading up to the tavern's rooms. "I'll be right behind you."

The men watched the half-dressed, exhausted woman depart, then looked to one another, knowing that a serious conversation was at hand; it wasn't often that Kylen put off getting naked with a woman for most of the night, and it wasn't often that Hormith allowed any man -- best friend or not -- to go upstairs with the youngest of his cousins.

"You've returned to reclaim your father's lands," Hormith said knowingly.

Kylen nodded. With concern, he asked, "Can it be done?"

"You've been gone a long time, my friend," the Keeper said, pushing the platters of crumbs and bones aside and sitting atop the oak table. "There are forces who will not want the return of the Udall Duchy."

"Can it be done?" Kylen repeated.

Hormith drew a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. "You understand that the word is already spreading of your return, yes...? The men here tonight. There were men here from all about the region. By high sun, every man of power who would see you as a threat will know of your return ... and will be working to keep you at bay."

Kylen stood from the bench and neared his friend. With a serious tone he asked once more, "Hormith ... can ... it be done."

Hormith's response was slow in coming, but when it arrived, it arrived with a slowly spreading smile of certainty. "Of course. You ... me..." He looked toward the stairs his cousin and the Tavern Wenches had climbed earlier with their customers in tow. "...those men. We can do this. Yes, my friend--" He slapped an open hand so hard upon Kylen's shoulder that the man had to reposition his feet. "We will do this!"

[fawcettp]

Sorin unlike many others that he had joined in the great wars of the east was not what many would call a ‘blood thirsty killer’. His life before the wars was as a simple religious man that worked the fields along with his own family, the call to arms was taken up by his 2 brothers along with himself, driving them into 6 years of hell, blood, and death. But all was not lost to Sorin, in this turmoil he found faith that many thought impossible in a war, this gift was what lead him to follow another man even after the wars were over. Kylen was one of only a few that Sorin could trust in a fight, he would stand and fight the fiercest of foes and against the greatest of odds, so long as it was at Kylens side; the man had a way of keeping those around him inspired and enabling them to great feats. So it was that when the wars were over and Kylen offered him a chance to return with him Sorin accepted the offer as quickly as he could.

The lands around the duchy of Udall were bad to say the least, the field gone from years of being untended, the roads falling away and the locals were less then friendly to say the least. But still Kylen call it home so Sorin walked his horse along towards the meeting locating, a tavern called the ‘black briar’. Entering the building Sorin felt the uneasy of the locals, and meet their eyes with a simple nod before moving out to the back room where he sat waiting for the others to arrive. Taking his seat at the seat to the heads left Sorin leaned back and began to relax.

Having been glad that his full length brown cloak covered not only his armour and weapons but also his face, he shifted uneasily trying to find a place where his two short swords didn't press into his back before deciding to simple remove the cloak. Undoing the string holding the cloak around his neck caused in to fall away showing a full set of light scale armour, its metal disks attached to a light leather body armour, along with his wrist bracers and wide double belt. The hilt of his two short sword freed from the cloak were able to be see sticking just above his shoulder, the guard of each held a strange symbol of a star with a small tree inside, along the blade of each was an inscription reading “truth to the blade, truth to yourself”. Even as the cloak fell away Sorins amulet which had been entangled in the cord fell once more to its resting place against his chest, this amulet was the same design as was on the hilts of his swords, he reached up and ran a finger over each line of the design before seeing his old friend walk in.

The night started slow even with the excitement that came from Kylen greeting his old friend, then came the stories some clearly made up others held truth from what he could tell. The food was probably the best feed he had eaten in many weeks, but the wenches were not what he had expected; though their company was welcome more than many would know Sorin did not take their companionship that night, the weeks on the road wearing too much on him. By the time half the night had past, Sorin was well into his eighth drink and well beyond tired, with the aid of one of the girls the tavern owner had given the party he managed to reach a room where he was asleep even before his head hit the hard pillow.

[It Is Just Me]

This post has been moved. It was posted out of time.

[It Is Just Me]

Kylen awoke a few hours later to the warmth of Sophianna cuddling up into his body he pulled her close and instantly felt himself becoming aroused, despite a level of guilt in having bedded the woman.

The last time he'd seen the young woman, she was still a flat chested, 11 year old girl chasing chickens across the yard before her Uncle's tavern, singing bawdy songs about the King and his upcoming nuptials to what was undoubtedly the ugliest Noble woman on The Continent.

And, of course, there was the issue of whom exactly she was: the cousin and charge of one of his dearest friends, Hormith. Kylen had barely recognized the now well rounded beauty when dropped in his lap last evening, and when she informed him of who she was, he immediately stood her off of his quickly reacting lap and stepped away.

Hormith only erupted in his typical belly laugh, explaining aloud, "She's got more bang bang time under a fur cover than you do, my old friend."

Now, ready again, Kylen took a moment to partake of Sophianna one more time, knowing that his next enjoyable encounter with a woman could be days, weeks, even months away.

He cleaned up with hot water brought up from the Scullery, dressed, donned his weapons and leather, and pressed a silver coin into the smiling woman's palm. He kissed her, long and deep, and whispered, "Again soon, I hope."

"I hope," she agreed, before rolling over and pulling the bedding tightly around her for a long, midday nap.

Kylen stepped into the tavern's second floor hallway and opened each door one after another; in those occupied by his men, he called out loudly for them to rise and shine. He reminded them of their last day in combat -- the day they lost more than a dozen of their closest friends -- calling, "Daylight's a'burning, and the enemy is on the ridge!"

Once downstairs, he found a feast already awaiting the Seven Knights in the back room. Hormith was hurrying around The Black Briar, hustling extra servants brought in to handle to atypical number of over night guests.

"Never filled all my rooms before," he's told Kylen the night before, half in jest, half in disappointment, "And yet not taken in a single coin for it."

Kylen had assured him that once he was again sitting in the Udall Keep as Duke, Hormith would have more coin in his purse that he'd ever dreamed of.

This morning, as the two sat at the far end of the table and talked quietly, the Keeper filled Kylen in on just exactly what had been happening in the Duchy while Kylen had been away claiming his glory and scars.

The news was hard to hear, but if Kylen was to engage his men in aiding his return to power, he needed to be honest with them. Honesty and trust was all they had been able to count on during the Wars; and Kylen would be damned if he was going to betray the trust his men had in him now.

As the Knights wandered in, one after another, each digging into the grand spread, Kylen chatted with them about there night. Some were ready to kiss and tell, as they always had been through the years; while others kept their secrets close to the chest. Still others hadn't had the time, need, or desire for such trivial involvements as sex; sleep in a warm, soft bed didn't come to the Seven Knights often.

When at last all had filled their bellies and told their stories, Kylen stood and moved a tall stool to the head of the table. He sat, looked about to the Knights and Hormith -- the only people on this Continent that he trusted his life to -- and said simply, "The road ahead will be rough ...and I fear I have dragged you through one bloody fight only to throw you into yet another."

If everyone wants to post up to this moment, I will post Kylen's monologue tonight when I get home.

[fawcettp]

Jessica sat quietly almost not moving like a statue she watched the taverns door, she had received a message from her contacts about a group of men entering the old Udell boarders heading for this small town; her home town. Only a couple of the locals were brave, or ignorant, enough to look at her when she didn’t want them to, she sat there in her corner booth, a full suite of soft leather armour worn over a rough cotan top hid many of the traits that she was a woman but not enough to completely hide the fact, a large brown strip of material wrapped around her head covered both her face and hair from unwanted attention. A small weasel of a man approached his thin pointy nose poking well out before his face the first thing many noticed, but it was what was In his hands that interested Jessica, reaching her booth the man drooled out a hello while eyeing her weapons with distaste before turning and walking away a sullen look on his face. In truth he had dropped a small rolled note to Jessica reading “new duke, six knights, and servants”, a smile crossed her face even as the door to the tavern swung open. Her hand went straight to her dagger, ignoring the bow that leaded gently against the booths table, but she eased it back onto the table and simply watched as a tall man hidden by a cloak entered and walked to the back room followed by several more slowly.

Jessica was finishing her meal of bread and water as the ‘leader’ of the group entered the main room and began causing trouble, he insulted the barman and then produced a weapon hidden under his cloak; though not uncommon for fighters to hide weapons in town the appearance of such a large weapon cause many to stare. Jessica having seen such fighters before had one hand on her bow even as the sword sunk into the floor, she didn’t move to act but would not hesitate to kill him should he prove a threat, but then the owner of the tavern greeted him with a welcome not given to many. The troubles passed Jessica simple stood and exited the building through its front door so everyone could see, before riding her own horse to the edge of the forest. By the time she reached the forest in was almost dark and she was greeted by a slim man, the same weasel faced one that had given her the note, “I want them watched… continuously” she said with such an authoritative tone that the man shrank back and nodded before passing the word to another man that ran off deeper into the woods, Jessica turned her horse around and rode it back to her estate; where she slept lightly till dawn.

As dawn crested the eastern horizon Jessica was already awake, she needed more information about those men, so she headed back to the forest to get word from her men the southern forest raiders.

---------- Post added at 08:10 PM ---------- Previous post was at 07:56 PM ----------

Sorin was still asleep when Kylen had knocked on his door waking him, his body moving on instinct drew out one of his daggers and was ready to fight at the sudden interruption. Groaning at the early rise after the weeks on the road Sorin moved slowly to the bowl of cold water that had been placed in his room, he guessed by the young lady he had turned down that night, and began to splash the cool water over his face fully waking him. Stripping off his armour top Sorin slowly bathed using the bowl and small rag from his travel roll which had also been brought up, the water cool against his skin managed to wash away the weeks of dust that coated him and seemed to refresh his soul as it did. Finishing his wash Sorin slowly put his armour back on and wandered down the stairs to the back room and a waiting meal “more food… this can’t be good, last time we ate this well we went on a suicide mission the next day” he said half jokingly around a mouthful of perfectly cooked eggs.

[ACE5]

Jarn, who up to that point had been grudgingly ripping pieces off the sourdough loaf and dipping it in vinegar, whooped to life shouting "YES! YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT THE BATTLE OF ERWINS GAP, AREN'T YA". Jarn swung his arms to one side then the other shaking his fists saying "What a grand battle, and a grand plan indeed, the warlord of Erwin's Gap didn't know what hit him HAH", he grabbed the loaf and pretending it a mans head made the action of hacking it as though his hand an axe.

Charles chimed in to the conversation "might i remind you Jarn, that had we taken to the objective your way, we would've ended up at the bottom of the ravine... deceased no doubt". Jarn shrugged and slapped Charles on the back heartily, "indeed my young friend, thank The God we have you around to complicate the plans and remind us of the details later" he chuckled and dipped his mug into the pail of fresh warm cows milk..

[It Is Just Me]

Kylen sat atop the tall stool at the end of the long oak table, listening to the men jousting with their recollections -- some factual, others not and still others both, depending upon who was telling them -- and smiled with pride. If anyone was going to help him rebuild Udall, it would of course be these six.

The Scullery Maids had cleared the majority of the lunch platters and bowls, leaving behind dried fruits, smoked fish strips, and an assortment of nuts, the treats of last year's harvest. And, of course, there were flagons on wine and ale, but the Knights partook of those with moderation for the talk to come, they knew, would be no different than any they had heard over the past years as they prepared for battle.

Glancing about the eyes set firmly upon him, Kylen began, "For years, you have listened to the stories I have told of Udall--"

A round of laughter erupted -- not unexpected -- and Kylen halted his speech, smiling and chuckling himself, until the raucous response died down. Kylen, he had to admit, talked a lot ... endlessly at times; and of course, he would talk of what he knew, as any man would; and what Kylen knew was his home ... Udall.

The Duchy was -- had been, and would again be -- a wondrous place. Oh, he'd left it, of course, to go off and fight a war that wasn't his fight in a far off land of arid plains and cold, high plateaus; but his departure from Udall was never, as they said, to find greener pastures. There simply weren't that many places on The Continent that were, in whole, a more perfect place to grow up than in Udall.

And these men knew that. Or, at least, he'd told them such ... again and again and again

Udall, with its circular shape was a land of fertile agricultural valleys, lush rolling hills of grassy pastures, and deep, thick woods of tall timber. It was a rich land that had supported Kylen's family well, as it did the people who served the Duchy; the peasantry had never starved, as they did in some of the nearby Jurisdictions, whether from a lack of resources or an over taxing by their Nobles. The people of Udall didn't pack up their carts and sneak out of the Duchy in the dark, looking for lands where their labor would be compensated better; if anything, Kylen's father and his Guard struggled many years to limit the influx of squatters and transients, looking for a better life.

But, of course, that was no more. The Duchy had fallen on hard times. Kylen had heard stories during his years in the East, but -- to his dismay, now that he knew the truth -- many of the messengers who had served him during those times had tempered their bad news to keep his spirits up ... or, he feared, simply been in the employ of those who had systematically occupied and pillaged the Duchy during the months and years following the death of Kylen's father.

"I fear I have brought you all," he continued once the laughter had died, "from one battle field to another. Things in Udall are ... worse than I had been led to believe. I spent several hours last eve'--" He smiled as he continued, looking about to the faces of those he specifically was referring to. "--while some of you were dutifully restoring your energies with rest, and others ... were expending theirs--"

Again there was raucous laughter, followed quickly by some short recollections of the night's debauchery.

Kylen lifted a hand for silence and, after a few seconds, got it. "Hormith has informed me that more than a quarter of my father's lands have been claimed by Nobles from adjacent lands. Some of these men ... in one case a woman ... have done so with the permission of the King." He sneered. "Likely with payment to our feeble, weak monarch and his ugly wife."

Kylen's comment about the Queen -- who it was well known was the true master of the Kingdom -- wasn't about her physical nature, although she was, in fact, a hard thing to look at in any light. No, his ugly comment was more about the way she treated the people who served her, both Noble and Peasant. Some, it was said, blamed her for the Eastern Wars, claiming that the Crown had profited greatly during the conflict by increasing taxes to support and keeping the lion's share, as well as siphoning off resources donated to the war effort, resources that never made it to the fighting men at the Fronts.

"The rest of the lands are in the hands of the peasantry," Kylen continued, "and most of those are in disrepair or simply not in use. Udall was once the bread basket of the Central West. Now ... it barely feeds its own people. A people who are distraught ... a people without direction ... without faith ... without knowledge of things lost to them in fewer years than I can show on one hand--"

He hesitated as his voice threatened to show his emotion. Of the Seven Knights, Kylen could never have claimed to be the hardest hearted, the fiercest; he was, deep down, a kind and loving soul to the people about him, and talking of Udall's fall to these hardened warriors ... was difficult.

"I will rebuild Udall," he continued, his voice beginning to show his resolve. "I will take back what is mine ... I will rebuild this Duchy into what it once was ... the envy of the Western Lands. And any man who aids me will see riches and receive title and--" A smile crossed his face, for his next comment brought back to him the comraderie that had been the foundation for what each of them had gone through over the last many years. "--and know what it means to be honored by the people about him ... as a trusted friend ... and a hero."

The responses about the room varied. His six comrades were all different people, and Kylen had expected their reactions to getting involved in another battle to be as varied as each of them were. There were fists slammed to the table and proclamations of ferocity against the invaders; and there were quiet expressions of contemplation as deeper thinking minds considered ways to return Udall to its place in the West without further blood shed. Kylen looked to each of the faces, trying to know what was going on in the minds behind them.

The one thing he knew for certain was that all six -- seven, including Hormith, who was standing just outside the room smiling with pride to see his friend Kylen as a leader of men -- would stand with him against what ever was to come.

And the Knights knew as well, that they would be rewarded for their efforts and, if it came to it, blood -- more so than they had been rewarded during the wars that had taken so many of the lives of their friends and comrades and had left their bodies, at times, bloodied, scarred, and broken. There would be comfortable homes and servants and coin and land full of stock ... and, eventually, peace.

[ACE5]

Jarn did not hesitate for a moment, he stood drew his sword and slammed it on the table hilt facing Kylen, "my sword is your sword Kylen, Duke of Udell" he proclaimed looking seriously into Kylen's eyes.

Charles stood also, he of all people coluld tell the severe state of disrepair the duchy was in, but before repair could happen, a minimum of security was required for labourers to operate. Charles queried positively "No doubt we have come a long way with you Kylen, and we will do it again, my only question is where do we start?"

[It Is Just Me]

Word had quickly spread through East Bank the previous eve' of the arrival of the seven strangers eating, drinking, and cavorting inside the Black Briar. Little Lil' and her brother Hankie had been some of the first to not only learn but also to capitalize on the visitors' arrivals.

As the sun reached high in the sky, they sat with three other members of the gang of orphans, a few hundred yards upstream of the now-defunct grain mill's damaged dam. They were surrounded by the refused -- stripped bones, pits, rines, and such -- of the first balanced meal they'd enjoyed in weeks.

as they looked about at one another, smiles on every dirty face, Lil and Hankie complimented one another on the skill and precision they'd shown the last eve' as Lil, with her blossoming body and bright, cheerful smile kept the man at the stables entertained in a hay stack, while Hankie and the others looted the saddles and bags of the three horses the strangers had left in the man's care. They'd sold some of the thieved goods, stashed others, then purchased this magnificent feast, as well as some new shoes, jackets, and blankets.

You all can decide who got robbed and of what! first three to PM me get to be robbed, and before you ask, yes, getting robbed is a good thing. Sorry, can't say more now -- would give away the secret. You'll learn about it once we head out of the Black Briar to begin our new lives. And yes ...you can look forward to little twists like this from your host often!

[fawcettp]

Sorin remembered the battle of Erwins Gap, the blood soaked fields, the dismembered limbs, the screams of the dying, yes Sorin did remember the battle but he remembered the horror not the glory as the others did; But still Sorin managed a laugh along with his fellow knights. Then their fearless leader stood and gave his speech, Sorin joined with the other knights in laughing at several of the small jokes before the Kylen got to the depth of talk. Sorin sat quietly after he had finished talking ignoring Jarn and Charles, before closing his eyes and slowly standing and saying “for better or worse I will follow you… but I think we must first gain the trust of the locals lest they fight us”