Knights of Anathaeum A Stone in the Road

[Hector]

Caravan duty. It was... one of the least luxurious jobs a squire could be put on. But, Hector supposed he was glad for the opportunity. It was real work, after all. Far from the safety of the Monastery, and it implied that the Captains were beginning to consider him more capable.

That or they were short on able bodied sworn.

He liked to think it was the former, rather than the latter.

"Oh, young Hector," Syr Chadwick chimed in, breaking the squire out of his train of thought. "To be so carefree, so full of life and unconcerned with the greater truths of this world." the elf-orc waxed on. "Is truly a wonderous thing,"

Hector blinked, and looked over at his superior. "Um, excuse me, Syr Chadwick?"

The sworn dawnling smiled, wide and warm and knowing. "Come now, man, do not think I do not know, nor that I have not seen!"

Hector was not sure why, but his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "I, I haven't a clue what you are reffering too, Syr Chadwick,"

"Ha!" Chadwick laughed. "The longing glances upon the horizon? The deep bouts of silence that overcome you, man!" The sworn's eyes narrowed, and his smile turned greasy. "You have a sweetheart that posses your mind,"

"A, a sweetheart?!" Hector near fell off his saddle, and his rouncey snorted and shook its head in displeasure. "I have no such thing!"

"Come now, man! There is no need to play coy!" The knight sworn waggled his eyebrows. "So far from the Monastery grounds, who would ever hear? Syr Xokuk?! The man nary speaks!"

Hector looked away from Chadwick, brow furrowed. "As if I would even tell you if I did, Chadwick," the young half-elf muttered bellow his breath.

"Ho, daggers then is it?" Chadwick steered his steed closer to Hector's, and all the while the wagons rolled. "Is it Innis?" Chadwick pressed.

"Innis?!" Hector near fell out of his saddle.

It was the sound of pounding hooves that caused Chadwick to straighten up, eyes hard as he snapped his attention to the horizon.

Syr Xokuk charged back, his courser at full gallop, his pole-axe brandished. "Highwaymen to the east!"

"Syr!" Chadwick stirred his horse forward with a snap of his reigns. "Number?"

Hector gulped hard.

Syr Xokuk's horse neighed as he brought it to halt. "A dozen or so, caught a carriage and its guard unnawares," he raised his axehead to show the way. "Ambush, laid in the woods,"

"Dastards," Chadwick said through gritted teeth. He turned to hector. "Ready, young squire?"

Hector nodded, and brought down the visor of his helmet.

Chadwick smirked, nod in turn, and did the same as he shut his on bascinet. "We will give a good charge, then it would be best to dismount!" Chadwick called out. A grunt set his horse to gallop.

"Ride fast and true, young Hector," Syr Xokuk said with a nod. "To the pain lad,"

"To the pain," the squire replied.

So sallied forth the knights of Anathaeum.

alphabunny

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia had watched the whole thing unfold, she had been walking now for a good couple of days. Eventually it felt as if her feet were bleeding so, not knowing the dangers the road would hold, the elf decided to climb a tree and take a nap but that idea was short lived.
Only being asleep an hour or so Ophelia was rudely awakened by screams coming from the road just below her, arrow in her quiver she looked down to find some bandits attacking a carraige.
She knew she herself could not take them on alone, instead she would use the height to her advantage.

One of the bandits had dragged a well dressed women out of the carriage, no doubt to have his way with her. Once Ophelias view of him was clear, she fired an arrow. It sailed through the air and caught the man in the neck, he lay lifeless on the floor. Seeing as the other criminals had not yet realized the fate of their friend, Ophelia jumped down from her spot in the tree and before the young woman could protest, the young elf had her hand around her mouth and dragged her into some nearby shrubbery.

She might not be able to save them all, but one life was better then none.

 

[Hector]

Tovarik wasn't quite fond of bloodshed. But he was fond of going hungry a whole lot less. So, when his boss, Mikel, rounded them up for the job, he kept his complaining to himself. Still, he didn't really like seeing Bobert drag the lady out of the carriage.

Watching the cart driver get shafted was bad enough. And when Gretchen got got... well that wasn't real fun either.

"Bloody hell, you all really should've just surrendered," the young man said to himself.

There was still some fighting in the distance, the guards were well enough armored at the van, but well, maybe they should've kept their best fighters by the carriage? That was just his opinnion though. And who the hell was he to make such suggestions. Just a bloody cut-throat. Well, now that was all he was now wasn't it?

"Oy, Randal," Tovarik called, to his mate, completely missing the shaft that flew through the air and punched through Bobert's neck like a knife through a tomato. "How long you think those guards will last against Lorent?"

Randal, a tall and burly kat-kin, grunt. "Don't know, Tov, don't care," he said as he sifted through the fresh corpse on the road. "Why don't you make yourself useful and go help out?" he stopped his rummaging, his ears twitched and he raised his head up and looked out at the distance. Toward the rear of the their little ambush, to the east of the woodland. "Shit," he hissed, and grabbed for the horn at his waist.

Two short blasts trumpeted out.

Interlopers.

One long blast.

Well equipped interlopers.

"Oh, fuck, fuck!" Tovarik cried out as he turned about, ripped his old sword from its sheath, his hands shaking against the hilt.

"Get into the rushes you idiot!" Randal growled as he pulled his sword free and hurried into the overgrowth off the side of the road. The thunder of hooves was growing louder and louder with each moment.

Tovarik hurried off the road, fell into a bush... and found two youngladies there in. "Oh... hello," he said with a stupid smile.

The mounted knights thundered by, straight on to where the fighting was thickest. Three horses, narrowed by the terrain. Chadwick took the lead, his warhammer in hand, kite shield in the other as golden light shimmered about him. A spear struck out at him and its old shaft shattered as it struck a magick barrier which rippled and held. Heavy iron head cracked into the side of one brigand, the heavy beak of a poleaxe cleaved another man near in two. Hector did all he could to keep in his saddle as they charged through.

"Form up, form up!" One of the bandits cried out. An older man with grey hair and a jagged scar across his jaw. "So some pisshead knights showed up! Ain't nothin to it but extra coin, lads!"

The three riders turned about beyond the cluster of brigands. There was still one guard, armored and upon their horse, fighting off a handful of the highwaymen, and with the distraction, they broke free from the mob and their horse galloped toward them.

"Gods thank you!" The helmed man called out.

"No time for that just yet, good man," Chadwick replied as he watched the men form up. "There is work yet to be done!"

"I count Nine left standing," Syr Xokuk offered coldly.

"Very well, Nine brigands to our stout and mounted four," Chadwick smiled behind his helm. "Should be easy enough,"

"Never say such a thing, Young Chadwick," Xokuk replied.

"Good Sirs, they have captured my lady, we must, we must~"

"Calm, good man, I beg you," Chadwick cut. "We must not rush and do away with out advantage,"
​

"They, they have four spears," Hector added nervously.

"And I have not the mana to bring about a second shield so soon," Chadwick added.

"Hark!" Xokuk bellowed out. "Know you face the Knights of Anatheaum!"

"Piss off!" One big bellied man cried out.

Xokuk grumbled, but continued. "Surrender now, and your lives shall be spared!"

The guardsman blustered. "Spared???"

"Quiet," Xokuk cut.

"And if we refuse?" The scarred man called back.

"Then you will meet your end here and now!" Chadwick cried out.

"Ready your sorcery, young Hector," Xokuk ordered.

The squire nodded.
​

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia had kept her hand over the womens mouth and arm across her chest the rest of the ambush, watching everything unfold through their leaf blurred vision.
Ophelia struggled to keep the women still as she thrashed about as if the elf had not just saved her life, "Could you stop? Or do you wish for me to throw you back in with the wolves?"
The young ladies eyes grew wide and she violently shaked her head, making a muffled sound that sounded like "no".

The bushes infront of them ruffled and right at their feet fell a man, "Oh... hello," he said.
Ophelia pulled a displeased face and then extracted a dagger from one of the small pouches around her waist, let go of the women and grabbed the man by the scruff of his tunic, dagger now inches from his neck. "I suggest you either ran back to what ever hole you crawled out of."
Ophelia let go of his shirt and pushed him back with force.

The sound of horns filled the air and voices followed shortly after.
She looked at the man, a sinister smirk crossing her face, "Or, I can hand you over to what ever gentlemen have come to the ladies rescue then?"

"Well up you get," Ophelia looked over her shoulder, "You aswell miss."

The trio emerged from the shrubbery, coming face to face with the Knights and their new captures, Ophelia with her dagger digging into the mans side and the ambush survivor following closely behind, a tramatic expression on her face.

"I think you boys missed one." She announced with a smirk.

 

[Hector]

Tovarik smiled nervously, his fingers a twitch and wiggle. "Right, right," he said as he rose up to stand with the lady elf who had been hiding in the weeds.

When her voice rang out, he could see old Grivok's head turn, and a palm hide his eyes as he shook his head. Tovarik didn't need to hear it, but felt his name whispered on the wind.

"Great..." The young newly-turned-brigand frowned. "Now I'll never hear the end of it,"

"Alright!" Grivok called out. "Alright now! We'll break and run," he cried out.

A armored glove latched onto his shoulder and pulled him down. "Grivok, what in the gods blue blazes do you think is going to happen when we turn round?"

From the mounted knights, a ripple of fire manifested in the air about their heads. A wash of gold and red and white that shimmered in the daylight. Droplets of flame fell from the long body of burning shimmer, and at its core there was something more.

"Bloody hells," one of the grey beards cursed. "There's a fookin sword there in that fire, Vaden, nothin we lot can do against a bloody flaming magic sword," he cursed beneath his breath.

"You will surrender?!" The loudest one among the mounted lot called out.

Grivok grumbled, still tucked behind his shield in their porcupine formation. "Aye-"

A scream from the rear, a flutter of fabric and then the muffled sounds of panic.

Tovarik's eyes went wide. "Randal!" He shouted back, and felt the prick of the dagger against him. "Wait, Randal, we must,"

"Shut it, Tov!" The big cat man growled. A long knife out and held against the young lady's throat.

"Hector," Xhokuk grunt. "Take aim with your sorcery, be ready,"

The squire nod. A pit already in his chest from holding the manifestation of fire aloft. He steadied his breathing. The hostage was far. How could he...

"I thought we had agreed upon your surrender!" Chadwick called out,

"We are, Syrs, we are!"

"Lady Valdaria!" The old guardsman called out.

Grivok bellowed out. "Randal, you no good flea bag! You are going to get us all killed!"

Randal growled, and squeezed the young lady tighter. "Damn it Grivok! I told you it was too soon for all this, that we weren't ready!" He scoot back into the brush, "Now I'm going to make sure I get out of this one alive, with or without the lot of you,"

"Randal! Was it!" Chadwick called out. "Don't be hasty now, Randal!" His voice was oddly cheery, despite the steel strung tension underlying it all. "You take the lady, and we will have no recourse but to run you down like a dog."

Randal snarled, and stopped his retreat.

"Randal, we... we have to give up, man," Tovarik whimpered.

Randal looked to him, and to the others still bunched up in their shield wall. He hissed harsh and threw Lady Valdaria down to the ground with a thud, turned tail and ran away.

Xhokuk narrowed his eyes. "There is movement,"

"Well... What is going on over there?!" Chadwick called out.

Hector sweat lead drops down his brow as he watched all this unfold. Breathing in and out, in and out as he held the flaming sword still burning in the air.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia examined the nails on her free hand. This was taking way to long, she had an appointment to take a nap in a tree and all the built up testosterone surrounding her was starting to bubble over.
"Alrighty then." Ophelia with drew her dagger and placed it back into its small holster.
The young lady she had just rescued from near death had just finished getting thrown about, but then again - it was no longer any of her concern. She had done her good deed for the day.
With a pointed finger Ophelia gestured towards her previously established perch. "When you ladies finish your tea party you can hand over my reward ey, Ill be up there." As she turned to leave, the young elf made a remarke over her shoulder, "And by gods, if you are going to send the man to a firey death then bloody well get it over with!"
All talk and no action, typical!

Hector

 

[Hector]

"Syrs," Hector let in through strained breath. "I..." he held on to the flaming sword which dripped embers from its white hot form. "I believe," his eyes narrowed and his vision strained as he watched one figure retreat from the others it gathered around.

"Is he running away?" Chadwick asked, and raised a steeled hand up against the light of the burning sword.

"Yes," Xhokuk grunt.

A young woman announced herself, made jest at their expense, and even dared them to cast fire at their foes.

Chadwick raised the visor on his helmet, and a wide smile beamed across his face. "My, what a spirited soul," he said with a tinkling in his eyes. "Right, Hector!"

"We surrender!" Grivok called out. "We surrender!" the big bellied brigand declared as he stepped forward and laid down his arms. His men hesitated at first, and then followed suit.

Hector let out a long sigh and the sword came undone. Its form cracked first. The white hot heat bled from that blade that was between the corporeal and not, and it turned from white to blue to red to air. A puff of white smoke. The last shimmers of a dissipating heat.

The young squire was glad it was done.

The knights rode in, the guardsman careful to stay behind their line as they crossed the surrendered brigands, when they crossed their main host, the guardsman raced toward the young lady, horse at three beats until he was at her side.

"What of our steel?" One anvil jawed man asked the still mounted knights.

Xhokuk looked to Chadwick, then back at the men who had lost their lives defending the carriage. "Leave it," the knight sworn said flatly. His eyes came back and stared, gaze like iron, at the man who dared ask. "And be glad you are not among the dead,"

Chadwick nodded. "Right so,"

The brigand grumbled and turned off to join those others who already dissipated through the trees.

Hector looked over at the tree which the young woman had pointed at not moments ago, walking over to it, unsure if she had left, or if she was hiding. "Hello?" he called out to her as Syrs Chadwick and Xhokuk watched the broken brigands make away.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia had just gotten comfortable, the past six months without an actual bed to rest on would offer up such a skill. She had just closed her eyes, thinking herself to sleep with what you would spend her new coin on. Most probably new bottles, she needed some for a new 'elixar' she planned making. The woman finally thought she would have some peace and quite, that was until a voice echoed from below her.
Letting out a groaning out a groan, Ophelia would open bothe eyes and peer over the eadge of her purch.

"What do you want now? I have done nothing wrong and it is not my fault if that dolled up lady of yours has some bruising."

 

[Hector]

Hector raised the visor of his owl-faced helm and glanced up at the wiry elf who'd so deftly handled the situation.

"You weren't scared?" He asked her, sincere in his concern. He looked back over the field they had traversed. Where the men had thronged about the carriage, and where the dead still lay, mangled and blooded. His eyes turned back to her in the tree. "I mean, a lot happened,"

The sound of horse hoofs trotting closer sounded in Hector's ear. "You there,!" Said the hot voice of Syr Chadwick, all resonant and sure. "Young lady, in the trees," he went on, and with his visor up all could see the sly smile he wore across his lips, and the way his eyes narrowed as she looked at her. "Well done," he affirmed as his horse came to a stop beneath him. "I have but one question for you, miss," his grin widened. "Have you ever heard of the Knights of Anathaeum?"

Xhokuk, who had dismounted from his horse and stood amongst the dead, grunt as he witnessed all that had been lost. "Hector!" the stoic orc called out, his voice as flat as an anvil, and Hector near started, his eyes wide as he looked over at the Sworn knight.

"Yes, Syr?" The squire managed.

"Come, help me pay respect to these who have passed beyond even the Loch,"

Hector looked back up at the young lady in the tree, then at Chadwick, grinning and proud, and he nodded and hurried off to aid the Knight of Dusk.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia simply shrugged when Hector voiced his question. "Not particularly, this is nothing new and even if I was frightened, I wouldn't allow that weakness to be seen by a bunch of strange men."

Her gaze shifted now to the direction of the second voice, an eyebrow raised, preparing herself to be told off by some pompus, entitled man. But she was to be corrected.
Ophelia pushed herself from her purch and landed steadily, her feet on the luscious grass below. "Well," her arms folded now loosely across her chest, Ophelia swayed slightly where she stood, switching weight to-and-fro from each heal.

"From what I've heard," A smirk crossed her lips, and she looked between the pair, eyes narrowing menicingly. Enthusiasm was clear in her voice as she spoke her next words,
"They are an organization of sexually confused trolls who kidnap little boys with magic powers." She shot a manicing look at Hector during the last part of the sentence.
"Aside from those lovely traits, they worship a star in the shape of a camels arse, have a holy cricket and most terrible of all..."

Ophelia made a dramatic sniffing sound, "They smell absoluty foul!"

Ophelia dropped the theatrical tone, "but thats all rumors." She offered them now a wink and a charming smile.

 

[Hector]

The simple truth of her words rang across Hector's heart. The strength it took to remain resolute. To show no weakness through a mask of surety. Not because there was no fear felt. But because to show fear let its tendrils spread. Let it better grip and root in the soul. Shake the courage out of a person.

Hector gave the lady elf a nod. He thought he understood. It was the same reason he had rode up alongside his sworn kin. Why he had charged down the brigands, with them, and why he would go help and burry the dead.

As Xhokuk and Hector piled the bodies, and dug ditches, Chadwick stared wide eyed and disgusted at all the things that came from Ophelia's mouth. "What, why... who would ever say such a thing?" He asked, voice thick with shock. He cleared his throat, and smoothed his blonde locks, over, sticky with sweat against his scalp. "Well," he smirked. "At least you know them to be rumors, and nothing more," He smiled, sure as the sun.

"No my dear and secret savior, the knights are so much more!" he stood about it and turned to face his comrades, who were busy with the death work. "Present company... included," he giggled some.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia watched as they re-arranged the corpses, for that was all they were to her. Nothing more, no-one of sentiment or who she felt pity for.
When they revealed themselves as member os the earlier mentioned organization her interest peaked. The wonderer that she was, she found herself often intrigued by different cultures, ways of life, political groups and so on.
"Then I must enquire from the source itself, what is it exactly your band of merry men do?" Her question pointed at the blonde fellow who seemd so certain if himself.

 

[Hector]

Chadwick chuckled some at her question and her isms. "Band of merry men," he grinned and nodded to her. "Yes, quite, I suppose we are known to be merry, more often then not," his eyes looked to his comrades again and their not so merry work, his eyebrows arched up and his eyes widened ever so. Yet, he turned back to her and thought a brief moment about her question.

"Well, we do all manner of thing, tell it true," he pointed down the road, east of and south of them, a sharp eye could still see the shapes of a distant caravan, parked and waiting for the all clear. "Like run guard for caravans, and well," he motioned to the scene around them. "Lend aid to those in need, when we can," he cleared his throat with a fist raised to cover his mouth.

"Why don't you accompany us for a while, Lady?" his lips came pursed, and he regarded her with surprise. "Oh, pardon my lack of civility," he bowed deeply. "I am Syr Chadwick, Knight Sworn of the Sanctum of Dawn" he said from his bowed position, then rose up and pointed at his comrades. "The other orc fellow is Syr Xhokuk, and the young half elf is Squire Hector," his eyes came back to her. "What of your name, oh mysterious stranger?" His smile seemed to hide just beneath his lips.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia thought for a moment on his offer, joining a group of strange men she had just met due to some spontaneous ambush in the woods?
Sounded like her kind of party!

The blond elf stuck out a small palm with long long fingers in Syr Chadwicks direction, "The names Ophelia Tirion of Fal'Addas, clan Racheen."

She thought now the time to gather her things incase the knights wished to take their leave. Fortunately she had not announced her thought process for not even a moment later she was reminded that everything if hers was in fact, packed already in a small bag she carried on her back.
How is it, one might wonder, that all of the young elfs worldy possesions fitted into a small bag?
The answer was simple, for Ophelia at least. Before she left her home to find a new life she had enchanted that very satchel. It was one of her few talents, enchantments of inanimate object. After a handful of hours and one or two minor explosions she was able to bewitch the above mentioned bag so that the interior was almost bottomless. Ophelia did had it to herself though that she was smart enough to add on that it wouldn't weigh anymore then a chicken if lifted up.

"Well gentlemen, where do we go from here ?" She would ask between the pair that still stood infront of her, eager to find out where this adventure would lead.

Hector

 

[Hector]

"Ophelia Tirion," Chadwick said the name again, and took up the young woman's wrist in a shake of trust. "Well met!" he beamed a warm smile, and let her hand go easily enough. "Though I must confess," he began as she gathered her things and he looked back at his allies who still toiled at laying the dead to rest. "It is rather strange that a member of the clans of Fal'Addas has only heard such slander about us," he pondered out loud.

"Maybe," Xhokuk said loudly, his voice between a bark and a grunt. "It is because of louts such as yourself, Syr Chadwick," he wore a tusked grin, as he and Hector placed the last dead man into a ditch.

"What? Why! Syr Xhokuk, whatever would bring about such defamation of my good name and cooperative nature?"

Xhokuk grunt, as Hector bowed his head and motioned a push with both of his open palms. The earth shift, and the ditch full of dead was covered up. "I wonder, Syr Chadwick, what it might be,"

Chadwick huffed, and looked over to Ophelia.

Well gentlemen, where do we go from here?

Chadwick chuckled. "Yes, well, let me... pay respects to the fallen, then we shall commence our adventure," He bowed his head to Ophelia and strut over to where Hector and Xhokuk stood.

A small prayer of respect poured from his lips as the other two knights stood vigil beside him. His tone earnest and mournful.

So Life ends,
The Fires gone cold,
the Wyld takes you
Across the waters of the running Loch
In Death may you find rest.
Sure that new Life shall spring forth.
​

There was a moment of silence, and then they moved. "Well, let's mount up and get back to the caravan, shall we!" Chadwick announced, voice bright once more. "This caravan won't get to Einlo on its own,"
----

Once the caravan began to roll again, the young lady and her surviving guardsman decided it was best to accompany the train, Chadwick and Xhokuk rode at that head of the column, while Hector took the rear. It was a quiet procession. Until a shout came from behind them.

"Wait!" A not unfamiliar voice called out. "Wait!" Hector turned around and saw one of the brigands. The young one named Tovarik.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia offered a small nod up to the knights as they gathered to pay their respects for the fallen. Uncertain where to paste her gaze, she would decide on the the tree tops - her eyes wondering around as if she were in search of something.

Once Chadwick and the others had gotten themselves organized they would hit the road, evidently Ophelia would be walking to their next destination. Hopefully a farm nearby or a small town so she could snag herself a horse. With the carriage joining them it would not be to much of an issue keeping up.

Just as all the drama of earlier that day began to melt away Ophelia heard a voice calling out to the group.


She turned to see who called for them, the voice belonged to none other then the same bandit that had stumbled through the bushes and flopped down infront of her earlier.

"Urgg!" Ophelia let out an irritated groan and just as she had before, drew her dagger - it pointed out straight in his direction, her arm flexed. " Ey boys!" She would call to grab the others attention more urgently.

Her eyes narrowed at Tovarik, "What in the hell do you want now?"

 

[Hector]

Hector turned his horse around, nearest to Ophelia, and peered at the man who ran toward them, his muscles tensed, and he felt the weight of his arms, but he watched as Ophelia's dagger glint beneath the sun.


"I!" Tovarik started breathlessly as he ran through the reeds. "I just," he wheezed as he doubled over at the waist. "I just wanted to," his sword slipped out of its scabbard and its pommel, and wide eyed, Tovarik swat at the grip with desperate clutches, trying to keep his sword from falling out. He failed. Its pommel sunk into the dirt and the blade rattled against the road. He smiled haplessly. His head sunk, and he picked the sword back up as he straightened up and slid it into its sheath. "I wanted to join you,"

Hector blinked, speechless. He looked to Ophelia, and heard the beat of hoofs against the packed dirt of the road.

"What goes on here?!" Chadwick called out, his helm's visor shut down, though no steel had been drawn.

The Wagon train kept rolling forward, Syr Xhokuk still at its head.

"This man want's to join us, Syr," Hector said flatly.

Tovarik smiled an empty and hopeless thing at Chadwick.

"And... who are you exactly?"

Tovarik blinked in confusion. "You mean, you don't remember me?"

Chadwick cocked his head to one side and arched an eyebrow as he leaned back with the weight of recollection. "Am I supposed to?" He asked, with utter sincerity.

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

When Tovarik told them his desire Ophelia looked instinctively to Hector, her expression mirroring his own.

Before she got the chance to tell the scum off, Syr Chadwick joined them. How he couldn't remeber was beyond her.
"He," Ophelia lifted her chin high. Never taking her eyes of the man as she sheathed her dagger. "Is one of the low lives who attacked the wagon. Still brought him out the bush with me when I made my grand entrance."
Ophelia looked quickly between the two knights in either side of her for any incling of recognition.

 

[Hector]

Chadwick laughed, the sound a harsh and near cruel thing. But, it lacked the edge to make it wholly that. "One of the brigands?" He repeated, after hearing Ophelia's warning. "Pray tell, man, why would we ever allow you to join our ranks, when you should count yourself lucky to still have your life?" Chadwick's smile was ever-present, his chin raised in proud defiance, and his eyes narrowed with a pointed scrutiny. A look that was like a blade, ready to stab through a gap in the guard.

Tovarik blinked. As if shocked by Ophelia's betrayal of the truth, and Chadwick defiance. Hector only sat upon his steed and watched.

"Um," the young man stammered, looked down at his things, and the empty scabard that hung at his hip. "Well, you see,"

"Out with it now," Chadwick huffed, and his horse snorted with equal impatience.

"Well, I... I don't know, I just," he looked to Ophelia, and to Hector, as if pleading them to support his request. "I just want to be something more!" he shout out, fists clenched at his side, and his eyes squeezed shut.

Hector looked to Chadwick, his eyes questioning, then he looked to Ophelia, wondering what she would say.

Chadwick's grin had vanished, and his expression had become stern, his eyes, no less sharp.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

When Tovarik gave his reasoning behind his request it felt as if a knife had been wrenched into her heart and for a mere moment, her sturn expression faultered.
She was more in tune with the longing of wanting something more out of life then she cared to admit.
Whilst Ophelias young life had not been a hard one, she had always yearned for more. Something beyond what her lifestyle had to offer. A life if meaning, becoming something in the world, something good...and she saw the same look in Tovariks eyes.

Ophelia cleared her throat and turned to face the pair of knights, her voice low so only the three of them would hear as she spoke.
"I am aware I have no authority, no reason yet for you to take my opinion into account but," her shoulderes shrugged slightly. "From my standpoint, the only thing he did in the attack was flee. Maybe he could be an asset?"
She once again shot a judgmental look over her shoulder to the human, "We just keep an eye on him,"
Her voice rose purposefully as she spoke her next word, "Take his weapons incase he gets any funny ideas."

 

[Hector]

Hector nodded with Ophelia's suggestion, and turned his gaze to Chadwick. "Aye, Syr, I think the lady has the right of it," the young squire said, a nod of his head only adding to his air of determination. "I will watch him personally,"

Chadwick's eyes narrowed, and his gazed flicked between Ophelia and Hector. "You both vote to bring him on?" He hmmed, and craned his neck to regard Xhokuk, who still rode at the head of the train. "I suppose we have taken on brigands before," he confessed, thinking of his own life and experience. The many men and women he had seen join the ranks of their order.

Some proved that the weight of their history was too great. The ways they had learned, too deeply engrained. But many, many proved that given time, given care, and room to spread, growth could still occur.

Chadwick clicked his teeth, and turned away, and his whole horse turned about with him. "Very well then," he admitted as his horse walked on toward the head of the Caravan. "He can join us," he called back. "Squire Hector, you best watch him well!"

Hector blinked. "Y-yes, Syr!" he called out. After a moment, he looked to Ophelia, then the newcomer. "Well, what's your name, anyhow?"

Tovarik, seemingly stunned by the entire turn of the interaction stared blankly at the two before him. "I'm... My name is Tovarik!" he replied.

Hector nodded. "Well met, Tovarik, I am Hector, and that is Ophelia," he clicked his teeth and squeezed his knees to will his rouncey forward. The horse snorted, and trot around Tovarik. "Best to hop on the wagon," Hector said with a smile.

The wagon driver, a bald short man with a pot-belly, was watching all of this through tired puffy eyes. He shrugged, and turned back to his horse. "Or ye can walk for all I care, less work for Charlie," he snapped the reins, and the horse named Charlie began to pull the Cart.

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

So it was decided, the same man she had pulled a knife on mere hours ago was now to become her companion, she was just happy he was not the only one. "You and I will be walking," Ophelia shot Tovarik a look of warning. "So if you try pull anything, not only I'll be tailing you but Hector aswell." Her headed nudged to the squires direction.

For a while after this Ophelia was quite. She did not have much to say to her walking partner and any questions she had about the Knights she would withhold until a more private conversation could take place.

Her inquisitivity around the group was rather growing and lacking in knowledge. Ophelia had heard of them previously, like she had told two of their members - but what she had heard and then chose to share were completely different.
During her past year upon a new journey she had heard their name brought up two or three times in taverns, by the sounds of things they were do gooders but also acted as a hired sword - alongside that they had a reputation of picking up 'strays' such as Tovarik and herself. How much of it was true? Well she would have to wait and find out.

Hector

 

[Hector]

The road was quiet for the remainder of the day's ride, and as night fell, the caravan found itself stopped at a sizeable inn along the Gold Road named, The Copper Belly, its sign proudly hung by a post, a large copper colored kettle, tended to by a mud-green toad with wooden spoon, its paint still in good repair.

Clicks of the tongue and snaps of the reins sounded as the wooden wheels of the cart crunched across the dirt road. The wind blew, and a toad-shaped weathervane spun about with the gust.

"Looks like a storm is rolling in," Syr Xhokuk warned as he hopped from his horse.

Syr Chadwick, still atop his stead, looked up at the horizon, saw the grey clouds of autumnal rains rolling over. "So it does," he added. "Might be, we can avoid the worst of it by mooring here for the night, eh?"

Xhokuk grunt with a curt nod of agreement.

Chadwick smiled that greasy smile of his as he nod, pleased by his own assessment. "Good, good, Hector! Ophelia!' he called out.

Hector had already dismounted, and was guiding his horse to the stalls. He peered from behind his steed. "Syr?" he asked.

"See to our horses, will you?" Chadwick came off his mount, and pat the beast along the neck. "I will see to our lodgings and accommodations," he smirked and sauntered off toward the inn. "Up for a game of cards, Xhokuk, you old gourd?"

Xhokuk grunted in agreement as he followed behind his fellow Sworn.

Hector looked to Ophelia and Tovarik.

Tovarik looked dismayed. "He forgot about me again..."

Hector smiled, and jerked his head toward the stables. "Come on, help wit hthe horses, then we can get some grub,"

Ophelia Tirion

 

[Ophelia Tirion]

Ophelia was relieved when their party finally came to a stop, her feet were killing her. She would have to invest a horse or finally sit down and work on the enchantment she had brewing in her head if the elf were to continue long, tedious walks such as the previous.

Ophelia peered out from behind the carriage to see what Syr Chadwick required of herself and Hector.
She rolled her eyes at the assignment, the pain shooting from her feet had definitely fueled some frustration.
O' took the reigns of both Syr Chadwick and Xhokuks horses and handed Tovarik the reigns of the latter as she guided the horses to the stables, following Hectors lead.
"You always get stuck with the newbies?" Ophelia would ask the Knight still in their company as she began to unsaddle her the steed.

Hector

 

[Hector]

Hector looked to Ophelia, as Tovarik whimpered behind her and sullenly followed toward the stables.

"Suppose I do," the young squire answered easily. "Just part of being a squire though," he added with a shrug. "Work with the others, newer to the order, or of the same rank," he said as he walked the horse into the stables, and tied down its reins. He walked over to the hay bails and took up a pitchfork, working some of it into the steed's stall. "But, I'll like be sworn soon enough," he smiled with some pride as he handed O' the pitchfork so she could feed the mount.

In the near distance, a cry came out, sharp and full of agony.

Hector's eyes went wide, and his head searched around. At the other end of the stable shed, he could see a figure fall back and to the flour, cowering as it crawled away from something. The squire let go of the pitchfork, made sure to shut the stall's gate, and hurried toward the downed person.

Tovarik stared wide eyed at Ophelia, then followed after Hector.

Ophelia Tirion