Post by The Ascendant on Feb 28, 2006 17:51:21 GMT -5
The tavern was filling fast. Rain had come down all day, leaving men cold and hungry. Times had been rough recently, so they had come from farm and from forge, hopeful for food and maybe some gossip or sport. These were common men and they shared the same concerns. Tonight, they would share ale and a strange encounter that many of them would still be talking about for long nights and years to come.
This tavern was their haven, and had been their fathers’ haven before them. Formal etiquette was left at the door as most of these men had known each other since childhood. The ale was slow, but steadily consumed as these men of Lethtar sat in common conversation. Goblins had been raiding caravans between here and Sundrah. Trade had slowed considerably and farms on the outlying areas were planting less so that they could better guard what they could see. This left many men scraping for work or working for less. The affairs of the kingdom were left up to the King and many of these men felt fair to place the blame squarely at his feet. It was his responsibility to maintain the roads and secure the common folk from goblins and their ilk.
The early evening wore on, the mood darkened, and the talk grew a bit more charged. Some of these men were hungry and an empty dinner time made them angry. If the nobility weren’t upholding their ends of the divine bargain, then why should these men? It was quickly becoming a dangerous conversation. Some of more cautious men got up to leave, grabbing their hats and tipping back the dregs of the tankards that they had slowly nursed through out the evening. It was during this pause that all activity stopped. The sound of horses on cobblestones sent shivers through the night air as men looked between each other to see if some tell-all had slipped from their presence to alert the authorities and the crowd went silent. No one had. They just needed to remain calm.
The sound of men in metal is impossible to mistake. Their heavy footfall paused just outside the door to the tavern and everyone inside took a long breath. When the door opened, a tall man stepped through covered head to toe in banded armor; white livery marked with a gold phoenix across the breastplate and a heavy wolf’s pelt draped over his shoulder. Behind the man were another half dozen men who were similarly attired, two women mixed in. The mood tensed as the knight quickly surveyed the room and strode towards the bar, his entourage taking the two empty tables at the rear. No one said a word. Perhaps no one needed to. It was obvious that the knight and his men were out of their element. Silence hung over the assembled folk. All eyes were focused on the knight who sat there looking grim and concerned. Finally, he spoke to the barkeep:
“Good ‘keep, I have a strange feeling that we have intruded on something we shouldnt have. If we have done so, I would beg your pardon. We have spent the last set of tendays in the woods between here and Sundrah tracking the movement of goblins. The caravans have slowed and the fields look like too many lie in fallow. I hear that times are tough, but such is the lot of all men in times like these.”
The knight whispered to the barkeep something low then continued as the tavern owner moved off into the kitchen, “I am Arikias Kolendur and these are the Wolves of Boetrah. We too are hungry and I would ask a favor of you all. On nights like these, we are faced with two options. We can go to our homes, hungry and hard hearted, or you can stay and share a free meal with me and the Wolves. If you have families at home, then leave and bring them back with you. This is no ruse, just the offer of a humble servant of the Red Knight.”
The barkeep and his wife emerged from the kitchen with large earthen pots of stew. The main room filled with the smell of food and the assembled patrons seemed caught between the context of the earlier conversation and the promise of food. Hunger is always a good motivator and most stayed, with a few excusing themselves to get their families. The mood had lightened considerably.
An hour became two as food and ale flowed freely. A few of the previously assembled came back with their families, some of whom looked ragged and more tired then their men did. Times were tough and whole families were doing all that they could to scrape by, women and children putting their hands to labor all hoping to help out in any way they could. The knight sat there by the bar, only one tankard of ale touched his lips through out the evening. Children sat by the fire and played their games while many of women told tales of ancient days and times before the gods sent the Shroud to protect the Islands of Lantan.
Quietly, one of the knight’s companions, a beautiful woman of noble birth, slipped through the crowd towards the hearth where she then unwrapped an exquisite mandolin. Silence came over the tavern as the woman’s soft voice rose out into the night and the first notes of an old ballad lifted from the mandolin. It was a child’s song, one that many of them had heard their mothers sing to them when all were younger, and it warmed their hearts to hear it.
Another song of brave knights and better days got the crowd to sing along as warmth and friendship slowly replaced the bitter memories of the afternoon. The Wolves of Boetrah sat in the back and sang heartily with the rest while their leader sat smiling at the bar. The bard continued to play songs that the crowd would know and some of the children climbed into their parent’s arms to sleep. The night was winding down. Finally, the knight moved to the hearth and took the last drink from his mug.
“Friends, and I would call you that because we are, tonight we have shared a small moment of time which the gods would will us have more of. The days of men are not to be marked by grief and sorrow, but to be spent lifted up with the promise of better tomorrows. Perhaps this day was laden with rain, mud, and worry, but tomorrow will be a new day and new opportunities will present them-selves to you. I pray those opportunities will come to those of you who are ready and willing. Our land is currently beset by hardships and perhaps the king is overwhelmed with responsibility. One man cannot fix a multitude of problems.”
He let it sit in, took a long look at the crowd, and then continued.
“The Red Knight is a Gentle Lady who teaches that the responsibility of nobility is to those who make those men and women noble. I am but a humble servant of higher powers as is our king, and as are all of you. One man cannot fix a multitude of problems, but a multitude of souls united in common cause can fix these problems. The Gentle Lady has asked me to come to you this night and offer an exchange; allow the nobles of this land some more time, and in time you will see these issues resolved. Problems will come tomorrow regardless of king or country. We cannot change that. What we can change though is the acceptance of our own responsibility to resolve those problems in the ways which the gods’ best bless us."
"Tomorrow, the Wolves of Boetrah will continue to seek out the goblins and filth which lay siege to our countryside, and know this, the servants of the Red Knight will not be gentle when we find them. They will know justice by violence. We will drive them from our lands and you will return to your fields and the farms of your employers in greater capacity. Know now that this is the responsibility of the nobility; to provide you and yours with warmth and safety. Again, your choice will be to empower the nobility to make you safe and warm, or to seek your own comfort in the darkness. What you have felt this night, you will feel again. I am Arikias Kolendur, a servant of the Red Knight, and I promise it.”
They filtered out in small groups, families and friends a bit renewed. The knight made balance with the owner of the tavern who would only take enough to cover the expenses of the meal. The knight thanked him and offered a blessing on his house that the Gentle Lady would allow the place to continue to prosper. Finally, the Wolves arose and moved around their leader as he stepped through the door back into the streets of Lethtar from which he had come.
This tavern was their haven, and had been their fathers’ haven before them. Formal etiquette was left at the door as most of these men had known each other since childhood. The ale was slow, but steadily consumed as these men of Lethtar sat in common conversation. Goblins had been raiding caravans between here and Sundrah. Trade had slowed considerably and farms on the outlying areas were planting less so that they could better guard what they could see. This left many men scraping for work or working for less. The affairs of the kingdom were left up to the King and many of these men felt fair to place the blame squarely at his feet. It was his responsibility to maintain the roads and secure the common folk from goblins and their ilk.
The early evening wore on, the mood darkened, and the talk grew a bit more charged. Some of these men were hungry and an empty dinner time made them angry. If the nobility weren’t upholding their ends of the divine bargain, then why should these men? It was quickly becoming a dangerous conversation. Some of more cautious men got up to leave, grabbing their hats and tipping back the dregs of the tankards that they had slowly nursed through out the evening. It was during this pause that all activity stopped. The sound of horses on cobblestones sent shivers through the night air as men looked between each other to see if some tell-all had slipped from their presence to alert the authorities and the crowd went silent. No one had. They just needed to remain calm.
The sound of men in metal is impossible to mistake. Their heavy footfall paused just outside the door to the tavern and everyone inside took a long breath. When the door opened, a tall man stepped through covered head to toe in banded armor; white livery marked with a gold phoenix across the breastplate and a heavy wolf’s pelt draped over his shoulder. Behind the man were another half dozen men who were similarly attired, two women mixed in. The mood tensed as the knight quickly surveyed the room and strode towards the bar, his entourage taking the two empty tables at the rear. No one said a word. Perhaps no one needed to. It was obvious that the knight and his men were out of their element. Silence hung over the assembled folk. All eyes were focused on the knight who sat there looking grim and concerned. Finally, he spoke to the barkeep:
“Good ‘keep, I have a strange feeling that we have intruded on something we shouldnt have. If we have done so, I would beg your pardon. We have spent the last set of tendays in the woods between here and Sundrah tracking the movement of goblins. The caravans have slowed and the fields look like too many lie in fallow. I hear that times are tough, but such is the lot of all men in times like these.”
The knight whispered to the barkeep something low then continued as the tavern owner moved off into the kitchen, “I am Arikias Kolendur and these are the Wolves of Boetrah. We too are hungry and I would ask a favor of you all. On nights like these, we are faced with two options. We can go to our homes, hungry and hard hearted, or you can stay and share a free meal with me and the Wolves. If you have families at home, then leave and bring them back with you. This is no ruse, just the offer of a humble servant of the Red Knight.”
The barkeep and his wife emerged from the kitchen with large earthen pots of stew. The main room filled with the smell of food and the assembled patrons seemed caught between the context of the earlier conversation and the promise of food. Hunger is always a good motivator and most stayed, with a few excusing themselves to get their families. The mood had lightened considerably.
An hour became two as food and ale flowed freely. A few of the previously assembled came back with their families, some of whom looked ragged and more tired then their men did. Times were tough and whole families were doing all that they could to scrape by, women and children putting their hands to labor all hoping to help out in any way they could. The knight sat there by the bar, only one tankard of ale touched his lips through out the evening. Children sat by the fire and played their games while many of women told tales of ancient days and times before the gods sent the Shroud to protect the Islands of Lantan.
Quietly, one of the knight’s companions, a beautiful woman of noble birth, slipped through the crowd towards the hearth where she then unwrapped an exquisite mandolin. Silence came over the tavern as the woman’s soft voice rose out into the night and the first notes of an old ballad lifted from the mandolin. It was a child’s song, one that many of them had heard their mothers sing to them when all were younger, and it warmed their hearts to hear it.
Another song of brave knights and better days got the crowd to sing along as warmth and friendship slowly replaced the bitter memories of the afternoon. The Wolves of Boetrah sat in the back and sang heartily with the rest while their leader sat smiling at the bar. The bard continued to play songs that the crowd would know and some of the children climbed into their parent’s arms to sleep. The night was winding down. Finally, the knight moved to the hearth and took the last drink from his mug.
“Friends, and I would call you that because we are, tonight we have shared a small moment of time which the gods would will us have more of. The days of men are not to be marked by grief and sorrow, but to be spent lifted up with the promise of better tomorrows. Perhaps this day was laden with rain, mud, and worry, but tomorrow will be a new day and new opportunities will present them-selves to you. I pray those opportunities will come to those of you who are ready and willing. Our land is currently beset by hardships and perhaps the king is overwhelmed with responsibility. One man cannot fix a multitude of problems.”
He let it sit in, took a long look at the crowd, and then continued.
“The Red Knight is a Gentle Lady who teaches that the responsibility of nobility is to those who make those men and women noble. I am but a humble servant of higher powers as is our king, and as are all of you. One man cannot fix a multitude of problems, but a multitude of souls united in common cause can fix these problems. The Gentle Lady has asked me to come to you this night and offer an exchange; allow the nobles of this land some more time, and in time you will see these issues resolved. Problems will come tomorrow regardless of king or country. We cannot change that. What we can change though is the acceptance of our own responsibility to resolve those problems in the ways which the gods’ best bless us."
"Tomorrow, the Wolves of Boetrah will continue to seek out the goblins and filth which lay siege to our countryside, and know this, the servants of the Red Knight will not be gentle when we find them. They will know justice by violence. We will drive them from our lands and you will return to your fields and the farms of your employers in greater capacity. Know now that this is the responsibility of the nobility; to provide you and yours with warmth and safety. Again, your choice will be to empower the nobility to make you safe and warm, or to seek your own comfort in the darkness. What you have felt this night, you will feel again. I am Arikias Kolendur, a servant of the Red Knight, and I promise it.”
They filtered out in small groups, families and friends a bit renewed. The knight made balance with the owner of the tavern who would only take enough to cover the expenses of the meal. The knight thanked him and offered a blessing on his house that the Gentle Lady would allow the place to continue to prosper. Finally, the Wolves arose and moved around their leader as he stepped through the door back into the streets of Lethtar from which he had come.
The group might be okay without you...but there are no guarantees. ;D)))
))