Tales By The Fire

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  Stoic.
  • Hazardous Moose

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  Aaimie's Journal Rantings
  • Riverthorn

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  ::huggles:: And another great name passes into the depths of retirement. She'll be missed
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  The rise and fall of Ikurus Darkrune.
  • Flom

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  Coughs Where is 1.5
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  Adlanail Glinfalin - The bard's trail....
  • Nightsblood

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  We waited with baited breath as the goblins crept down the small depression we had chosen to set up the ambush. Volarian had prepared well, I still could not see the creeper he had stretched across their path and so it turned out neither could the goblins. They crept on oblivious to its presence lured on by the birds, which were in turn lured there by Volarians scraps that he had set out. I was nearly going crazy with tension and wondering what Volarian was up to. He had now let the goblins creep past the two bushes that the creeper was strung between I only knew of its presence because I had seen him place it but now that the goblins had passed it, our surprise was lost and it was useless. Still he had not motioned with the signal for attack, what was he waiting for ? Our positions had been carefully chosen by Volarian such that from our vantage we could easily see each other and by carefully craning our heads could observe the goblins through foliage. Thus as long as we kept still and quiet the goblins would not know of our presence till they were level or past the line of foliage. Suddenly Volarian drew back his bowstring and made to stand, I knew the signs and made to do the same also. Even the attacks had been co-ordinated by the Ranger who had me aim for the nearest goblin and work towards the back whilst he would do the opposite. Thus as the first goblin fell and the goblins started to turn in my direction to see where the arrow had come from, the yelp and gurgle from the back had them turning back as I notched another arrow and drew the string. As they were still in shock my arrow took another from the back and then the group broke. They had just tuned to run when another of Volarians took the rearmost again. I was still nocking my arrow as the now rearmost goblin crossed the line of bushes and the creeper sprung up. It felled both goblins and went limp as Volarian dropped the rope holding it taut and leapt from his position, sprinting on the fallen foes. The first goblin to rise scrambled across the creeper and started to lope off. I had to switch my aim to it as the second drew weapon and prepared to receive the ranger’s charge, which had now blocked my view of it. My hastily aimed arrow only took it in the leg and it went down clutching at the arrow and screaming. Volarian blocked his opponent’s desperate swing and pummelled the creature into unconsciousness. He then scrambled up and sent the other screaming goblin into blackness too before hastily checking the area for signs that the commotion had been heard. Nothing, we were clear. Volarian returned like an avenging god. He bound both unconscious goblins and had me carry the other to a sheltered cave. After gagging both, he left saying he was going to cover our tracks. In the half-hour he was gone both goblins recovered and started wriggling caterpillar-like to the back of the cave. On his return he immediately sat astride the unwounded goblin and started beating it and hissing in some guttural language I now know as goblin. Both goblins were looking increasingly terrified. He ripped off the gag on the one he was astride and held his blade to it’s throat. Although terrified the Goblin seemed to know better than to scream. it continued to struggle. He was hissing at spitting at it and it was returning his venom in the same gutteral lanuage. It was then he drew his blade across it’s throat. In the few shocked seconds afterwards that it took my gorge to rise, minute details became painted on my memory : the shocked gurgling of the stricken goblin : the rancid smell of the creatures ichor: the complete look of terror then hopelessness on the bound companion. Then I was running, stumbling from the cave my stomach’s contents spattering the grass. Volarian quickly appeared at my side. I don’t know if it was the numbness of the aftershock but I just didn’t know how to respond to his concern for my wellbeing. Waving him away I slowly returned to the cave as he bade me. “Well that one was of no use.” he continued. “The stubborn little vermin wouldn’t part with any information. Perhaps the other will be more co-operative now” I could taste it’s fear as he strode towards it, perhaps it was even my own foreboding that was palatable as I almost screamed “Volarian , NO !” He turned then and smiled “Oh, I’m not going to kill our last source of information…..” the rest of his words were lost in the mutter as he turned away and a wave of relief swept over me. Without removing the thing’s gag he knelt down in the corner it had scrabbled into and reached out and twisted the arrow stub still embedded in the creature’s leg. The creature’s eyes went wide with fear and pain, its muffled squeals muted by the gag. Volarian reached out and slowly loosened the gag once the creature had stilled to a whimper. He spoke again in the gutteral lanuage but this time there did not seem to be as much venom in his tone. The goblin whimpered quietly for a while seeming to expect the fatal blow and all the while Volarian kept up a quiet stream of goblin. Eventually it opened its eyes almost in bewilderment. Then to my amazement it spoke ! I could not tell the words in that harsh lanuage but there was no doubt the thing was conversing with Volarian. “Ha ! Good ! Now we’re getting somewhere.” was all that Volarian uttered before going back to conversing with our foe. It was obvious that Volarian was questioning the Goblin but about what I knew not. Eventually the questioning trailed off. Volarian crossed the cave to me. “Well, now we at least know where we’re headed.” he said to my anxious look. “Where ?”was all my intellect allowed. “They’re going to join some goblin force in a place called the Rawlinswood. And they’re taking the temple trinkets to ensure their acceptance.” The word “trinkets” sparked a rush of anger which was quickly suppressed by my curiousity. “Why ?” Volarian looked distraught “ I know not” he said “Something big is happening there but Grashk doesn’t know what it is and I’m convinced he does not know.” I paused for a second then “Grashk ?” Volarian jerked his head towards the goblin and I felt a wave of shame for my foolish question but events had moved too fast for my stunned brain to keep up. “What about the goblin ? His reply again shocked me to the core. “We kill it.”he said coldly. “You…you cannot.” I began. “Release it then, it matters not” he conceded to my obvious relief. The goblin huddled in its corner and did not move while I undid its bonds or even for some time afterwards. It simply sat there looking at the strips of rope and both of us. Finally Volarian said something to it and it srcabbled up and limped quickly away. It had not got 20 paces from the cave when Volarian’s arrow took it through the heart. It turned as it fell and till my dying day I will remain confused by the evil smile on its lips as it’s eyes dimmed. I could not look at Volarian as a confusion of emotions swept over me, dismay at my companions actions, elation at the falling of another of my mothers killers and guilt at having set the goblin free only to kill it as well as repugnance for having compassion for possibly one of my mothers killers. “ I could not let it return with news of us” was all that Volarian said of the matter. I would not need to record the events of that day as they would forever be burned in my memory and so it was some time much later that I sat down for the ritual penning of the days happenings to write : 27th day of Uktar Volarian was amazing, the ambush he set up worked like a wonder. Most of the goblins did not know where to look when our first two arrows felled two of their number. Another two were picked off as the remaining two took to their heels and fled. Even then Volarian had predicted the path of their flight and activated the trap he had set, downing and pouncing on one hapless survivor as I managed to shoot the other through the leg disabling him also. We learned from the goblin captives of their motives and destination. As we lay in the grass it was easy to spot unusual activity in the goblin camp. There was no doubt that they had found the lost patrol. Our only question lay in wondering if our ruse of removing our arrows from their wounds and replacing them with their own was having the desired effect. We could not tell if they suspected an in camp feud or if it was just the finding of the patrol slaughtered that had got them agitated. Either way as long as they did not suspect we were trailing them our plan was good. Over the course of the day it became clear that we were having some effect since they reduced the frequency of their patrols and doubled the size of them. It would mean we would have to avoid those patrols in future ! Alerted as they were Volarian felt sure they would be less prone to run and more prone to fire back and I must say I agreed. Indeed I felt somewhat relieved that we would not take any “prisoners” again. It was much easier for me to fire in hate when they were firing back and this brought on guilt when I realized that I feared I could not kill one of my mother’s killers in “cold blood”. The goblins must have been somewhat panicked since they broke camp some hours before dusk and travelled well into dawn then next day before setting camp again. We now had the luxury of knowing where they were headed and so could afford to wait and pick up their trail allowing us to remain clear of their patrols and allowing me to compose my diary once more. 28th day of Uktar The goblins seem agitated by finding the slaughtered patrol. They have taken steps to ensure it cannot be repeated but we have put a dent in their numbers and confidence. They have broken camp earlier than usual and we will let them take a lead since we now know their destination. We must be wary. Our good fortune has allowed us to become lax. We almost ran into one of their patrols whilst following their trail. It would seem their agitation has not waned for we had no option but to backtrack and hope they did not spot our tracks. Taking on a small patrol in an ambush we had prepared was dangerous at best even though it worked like a charm but taking on a doubled patrol when we were not prepared could not be contemplated. When finally we had the nerve to track the patrol it seems they were on their way back to camp. Our observation of the camp indeed shows that they are still agitated about something. We can hear them bickering but not well enough to make out the words although Volarian swears he discerned the words for arrows and tracks. I would not doubt the ears of an experienced ranger. Our observation of the camp was disrupted since they have now increased the frequency of their patrols as well as the numbers in them. We have been forced to make our retreat to a safe distance but will let them set off again and will try to pick up their trail on the morrow. This will give me time to add another entry. 29th day of Uktar Goblin patrols are heavy now. We must stay well back. Nearly discovered by one such patrol. It seems our ambush has them greatly anxious. Need to be very careful. May Mielikki guide our steps.
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  Return of spirit - Frudoc sorn
  • blackstep

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  Frudoc looks to the ground and starts to think about what happened _That hin, what did the defiler do to her? And how? Who could ever torture such innocence and life with himself? She was twisted, maybe even some kind of evil, but still innocent, everyone could see that. That defiler is like Ginger said pure evil, no other possibility. But more important is how to cure her, every thing to get Yondalla to help her seemed only hurt her more. Just her symbol was enough to scare her, maybe the defiler twisted nature… That he twisted nature is sure… but that he can change the mother of people… I didnâ€t think he could or that it was even possible. If he can do that I am sure Yondalla could reverse whatever he has done. Yondalla is the mother of our kind and she will not let a defiler change that. I donâ€t know how far the power of the defiler goes, but the power of Yondalla is bigger, I am sure of that…….. Maybe Theaon can help, few are able to call Yondalla's power like he can_ Frudoc stands up and walks towards to board of the valley to write down the problem. Frudocâ€s eyes fall on a post of Theaon: @a8cb858935=Theaon: Frudoc Sorn, When you get the chance, come see Councillor Theaon Thorn, I have something that belongs to you. signed Theaon Thorn, Councillor of Faith of the Silver Valley could he have found my dagger? What else could he give to me? It has to be my dagger or maybe better Zakâ€s dagger. I have to find him Before Frudoc places anything on the board he runs out of the valley, through Jiyyd looking for Theaon
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  Tale of a Child of the Light [Beware: contains pictures]
  • Emerwyn

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  Since after six months I finally recovered many of my lost posts (thanks Custodies), since along all these months many told me that would love to have had the chance to see this, and since going through it still makes my eyes go wet, a shameless bump. I found that back then my english was not so good and it has many gramatical errors, oddly built sentences and even pictures with a silly "Trial Version" banner. However, I wanted to keep it original so there Enjoy.
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  Nate lightcrest - Hellchild
  • Flom

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  kaploey
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  KULL´s hunger for power...... the bad dream....
  • Black Rider

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  Alazreal Darkrune's Impure Rebirth.
  • Flom

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  _Look at you now, rotting away. Look at you now, remember this day. You can't remember, can you? You don't know how to, can you? Look at you, you're pathetic. You've become everything you hate. You are nothing, make something of yourself. I can show you the door, but you must open it._ "You there." Alazreal barked as he approached the group. Idiots, the lot of them. Eyeing him as if they knew him, why would they? He would not lower himself to such scum. "Tell me where the gravryard is." He demanded. The pale elf woman spoke up. She took her sweet, precious time to speak. It sickened Alazreal, he wanted answeres, and he wanted them at that moment. "Um…" She said shyly before she pointed her finger North East, towards the gates. Yes, he remembered now. In his haze as he came back from the graveyard the other night, he couldn't recall his steps. Slowly, the memories were returning. Slowly, like a snake slithering through the grass for it's next victim, his senses were returning. He could feel it. He brushed past the three and made his way for the graveyard, still dirty from crawling out of his own grave. He had found the graveyard, and he had found his gravesite. Thankfully no one had seen it, or if they had they left whatever he was burried with inside. What was he burried with, he wondered, as he hopped casually back into the grave... A red spellbook, a crooked gothic style "I", facing the right, implimented on the cover. A black spellbook, a crooked gothic style "A", facing the left, implimented on the cover. Along with two bloodstar amulets, one his own, one his brother's. He took them all, both spellbooks tying them onto his belt. As well as the amulets, putting them over his head hanging around his neck. Then he saw it, the bloodred gem, glowing faintly. The light inside fading away. His bloodstone, the bloodred gem the size of a fist, was meant to resurect our young necromancer if he would ever die. Once and only once, could this vile gem be used, and the price was costly. This selfish creation was none other then that of his father's. Alazurus' cult of Darkrune necromancers back in Thay. Alazreal would often gaze into it, gazing at the power he once possesed, obsessing over it. "NO!" He thought. "This cannot be!" He growled as he took the gem and clenched it tight, knowing all too well what this meant. He quickly slipped the gem away and opened the black spell book, flipping through the pages. Past the cantrips, past the low-level spells, past all the muck he'd grown to detest. As he flipped through the pages, he understood less and less, he had no idea what any of the more potent spells meant, no idea what ingrediants to use to tap the weave. "DAMN YOU IKURUS! WHY ARENT YOU HERE TO HELP ME!? YOU BASTARD! " He thought to himself, as he often did, yelling at himself, scolding himself or others in his mind, knowing all too well that they werent there to hear. He tied the book back into his belt, letting it dangle as he regathered his bearings. He needed to find his brother, he needed to know how to properly manipulate the weave again. He couldn't leach the power he once had from the gem used to revive him, it was too late for that. He made his way past the graveyard gates back into town. he found a small shop run by an elf who knew how to mind his business, he decided to clean up there, he also borrowed a quillpen and a piece of paper from the elf to write a note. As he came out, he marched towards the group he saw earlier. "Spellweaver, where is it…" He asked the group, awaiting a response. The blonde halfling male, the pale skinned white elf, and the brown haired human looked at him. The pale skinned elf, once again pointed him the way...
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  Janika Cars - bragging rights
  • sciolist

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  Hard Lessons: Anja Willowmein
  • mirror_pool

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  Two nights ago there were a mighty big gathering at the south fire. Folks were yapping about all kinds of things, big and small. Some lady named Sera decided to get together a group to go hunting and I agreed naturally. We stepped out into the woods like it was any other evening. She were a decent enough fighter herself, claimed to be a paladin of Lathander. It werenâ€t too long but weâ€re in a tight spot. Along comes some red haired lady, takes out a gobo or two, and offers to heal me if I do her a favor. Well, I werenâ€t in too big a position to say no, so I agree and all. Her favor were to fill a vial with my own blood. Plenty of it were available like, so I fill the vial and she heals me right up then drinks the vial. Which was odd, but I didnâ€t take that as the warning I shouldâ€ve just yet. Next, itâ€s Seraâ€s turn. It starts off the same, but Sera decides to let this lady drink it straight from her arm. Before long itâ€s clear Sera thinks sheâ€s had enough, but the woman keeps drinking. Iâ€m busy sending off a few gobs, and Sera fights but canâ€t get free. All the while, the red haired ladyâ€s drinking more and more, liketa kill Sera and all. So I step in and bush her off. Sera runs and the lady trades some words with me. Seemed pretty cocky for someone who just had her butt pushed into the mud. Before Seraâ€s out of sight, I turn and march off. On our way back to town, we run into two folks I hadnâ€t seen much of before. Didnâ€t know their names at the time, but I latter learned they were Azule and Amith. She, Amith, offers to heal Sera and me. I mustâ€ve looked awful, but Iâ€m sure it were mostly me being angry with that red haired woman. Iâ€m not sure if I said much, but I guess my thoughts came through, as later Azule asked why I was so suspicious. Reckon I had reason to be. Anyway, Sera takes the healing and then were off. And in good health, we decide we might as well try our hands at the East. Before too long, Sera had to head back, but I met up with two fellows I came to know as Adam and Adon, both paladins or something of Torm. These two have come up with the idea that you get one feller to run and shout and get a goblinâ€s attention, then the other folk stand behind trees and fill the critter with arrows. It worked mighty well. Bit tiring when youâ€re the fool running, but so long as you keep your direction, you make it out in the end. We certainly killed plenty that way. Anyway, before too long we had enough loot and scratches between us that we figure it best to head to Norwick, so we do. There were still a crowd by the fires, bigger than ever even, and some woman threw me a few accusations, so I headed off to get some peace and quiet. After some shuteye, I ran into Azule and we fell to talking about my suspiciousness and what. Then he invites me along with some friends of his into the woods. Again, it started off alright, so far as these things go, but then the hin they had leading the chase starts running all over. Worse, everyone follows, running and running, and only encouraging him on. There were no planning to it, just running and not bothering to stop and see if there werenâ€t a pile of goblins behind the next hill. Well somehow the hin got separated from them and they figured he mustâ€ve died. So we patch up to see if we can find the body, but this time their running about costs us. I near died myself out there. If that lot of fools again – or anyone else that stupid -Iâ€m like to tell them a thing or two or take my spear and head back to Norwick, alone if I have to. Iâ€m not so keen on their company that Iâ€m jumping to get killed over it, not for a few goblins hides either.
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  The Lone Wolf's Peace
  • LJRangyMutt

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  cant help but sniffle
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  Death and Return, the tale of Elana
  • Wannabe_Irish

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  She sat at the lake in the northern Rawlins… Reading his letter over and over... He was dead, Ma'lad had died. He saw his life as meaningless, and went to throw it away in a battle that had a reason in his eyes… No, to her, the battle was as meaningless as his life to him, but she couldn't help him... For more than two years she had strived to get a cure for him, to make his life better... He was dead, Ma'lad had died. She came to Norwick to find her brother, but she stayed there because of him… She had found her brother, maybe it was time to say her goodbyes and go home... He was dead, Ma'lad had died. Dagoth… Toman... Dela... Elandir... Lacoi... Her friends of old, died in the years that she was allowed to survive... In time those wounds had healed, but it weakened her... Ma'lad gave her new strength, new friendship, a new reason... He was dead, Ma'lad had died. No more reason, not to stay, nor to live… Going home wouldn't change a thing, her brother's ressurection didn't change a thing... She would not take her own life, even now she felt that Ma'lad didn't want it... He was dead, Ma'lad had died She overheard a conversation… Ikurus was in jail... His life to be forfeited... Her last connection to the Norwick she knew... He was dead, Ma'lad had died She would die, as fate saw fit… She wondered how long it would be, how long she'd have to live while her friends died... Right now, she would live, do her time in the wretched world around her... No goals, but her end would not be meaningless either... She too would have her battle in which she would fall... He was dead, Ma'lad had died She bursted out in tears, grief had taken over, for now. She was never overtaken by grief, not enough to last her a lifetime… But it hurt so much... He was dead, Ma'lad had died
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  Firebrand
  • BetaPhi

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  Scars of the Heart - Part III Skylaâ€s dreamless nights quickly became a memory the minute she laid eyes on one Zyphlin Reâ€cual. It was funny though, she swore she had seen him before, though she was also equally sure she had never met a Zyphlin Reâ€cual before. Though the man was handsome she supposed - in a very unusual sort of way - that wasnâ€t what attracted her to Zyphlin initially. It was his eyes, a brilliant shade of sapphire blue had a story there. It was there for anyone who wished to see it, but even once seen, very few, if any at all would ever be able to understand it. He smelled of the sea and adventure, and roads that lead to places yet seen. And somehow, she knew him. Her attraction to Zyphlin was almost immediate, and she was fairly sure that he was attracted to her as well. After all, she was a beautiful porcelain doll, so… why wouldnâ€t he be? Attraction or not, apparently that wasnâ€t enough for Zyphlin. Time and time again, he brushed her flirtatious off, only serving to build Skylaâ€s irritation, frustration, and attraction even more. Eventually, he confessed to her why it was that he turned her away. True, while he was attracted to her, he was with another woman. They were keeping their affair secret, for reasons of propriety. Otherwise, he assured her in an older, wiser, condescending sort of manner, he would most certainly be willing to return Skylaâ€s affections as well. Anger bubbled up within her from the bottom of her stomach. Never had she lost before. Every time she had played her cards of attraction and flirtation, she had won out easily. She still couldnâ€t understand how or why it had happened. As the days wore on, she tried her best to throw Zyphlin out of her mind. Every time she thought she was close to getting over her defeat, he would come around again. Accidental moments of tension, once or twice, a few thoughtless kisses. But never was he to be hers to have. And because of that, he would always be in her mind…. And slowly but surely, he found his way if but unintentionally through the passages of her labyrinth heart. The coin had begun to turn, but had not yet stopped spinning. And so life goes on. Her love with Arryn Raven was brief, but filled with warmth and closeness. Never given the chance to find the flaw in it before Arryn became lost to everyone. Having left to do a favor for a friend in Shadowdale, Arryn had promised to return to Skyla. The day she received the news of his death, she held his broken rapier in her hands, gripping them tightly until she cut through the fabric of her gloves until they cut the skin of her hands. Then her heart reminded her of another promise broken, and she felt no more pain, not even the blood that began to eek out of her cut flesh. But perhaps it was best to put on a show for the rest of those concerned. Death was so close. No love, no life, no happiness, Skyla spent her days in the abyss of nothingness.
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  Natanya: Letters from home
  • Yith

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  Meetings of Ikurus Darkrune and Deacon Sterr
  • Flom

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  http://www.narfell.com/modules.php?name=Forums&file=viewtopic&t=17727 How it ends.
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  Arizima Sepret
  • Guest

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  Dawn. She smiles and looks down at her hand, then frowns slightly in worry as she paces in the light. The woman in yellow told her it would all be alright. She looks down at the sleeping form near her feet and smiles slighty. Wonderful… perfect. She can do this, she has hope, peace. "What if I mess this up" She murmurs softly to herself. She sighs and lays back down, the sun rising, stretching in it's warmth
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  Syne Bloodmist
  • Wykith

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  :oops: Thanks guys. Story links now all operational.
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  Dark Tidings
  • Wykith

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  Between the two roaring fires of the camp this day lies a pale, silent angel. His fair golden hair lightly flecked in blood, his smooth pale skin glowing softly in the firelight. His face has been badly wounded, scratched and torn, but has not been horribly disfigured. His eyes remain in their place, as does his tounge. The damage in fact seems minimal, but the silent angel is still in fact very much dead. The ants have only begun to gather and the carrion birds are beginning to circle high above. Between the roaring fires, lies the camp's beloved Jonni. _And that was the last one before Syne saw they were closing in on him. The other stories in Desecrator were a part of "Sinister Melody" a murder spree that went unchecked and unanswered in Peltarch, well…unless of course you count Crusader Koreth, who by the way, if memory serves, arrived among us after rumors of these gruesome deaths reached his ears. He was determined to bring the vicious murderer to justice. :twisted: I unfortunately don't have a copy of the "Sinister Melody"_
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  Chronicles of a Knight
  • Thierulf

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  The Questing Knight _The young Errant Knight crossed once again the magnificient double gates of Darromar, his hometown. The capital of Tethyr was splendorous as always, although the recent wars had diminished it's usual grandeur. The streets were busy that day, since it was an important day for the city and it's proud Chivalry Order, the Order of the Silver Lances. Today, some of the Errant Knights would be deemed worth and knighted as Knights of the Realm. Expectation built up around the holy chapel. The old warriors watched the new aspirants with a light smile, nostalgic and proud. The young ladies giggled and bounced around, judging who seemed more strong and more handsome, dreaming with marrying one of them some day. Thierulf had been looking for his father, Captain of the 13th regiment of the Royal Chivalry of Darromar, without luck so far, but he knew that he'd find him at the ceremony, so didn't worry much over it. Also, he was turning 21 this day, so it was certainly a very special day. The hour arrived, and the Captains took their honor seats, although Thierulf couldn't see his father taking his seat. The Champions proceeded to take their seats, followed by the Knights of the Realm and finally the Errant Knights. All of them stood once again to bow to the Master of the Order, Lord Tancred of Valen. The ceremony started as it's traditional with the Master's speech._ Greetings Captains, Champions, Knights… and aspirants - looking over all the audience. We are gathered here today, to honor and knight those that have overcome their trial period, and have been deemed worthy by the Order of the Silver Lances - he gazed to the Errant Knights then - As you have seen the process of becoming a member of the Order of the Silver Lances is no easy task. Our testing is as difficult as we can make it for one simple reason: a member of the Silver Lances carries with him or her the Honor of His Excellence the King Jedrak III. Within the confines of our Realm, there can be no higher honor or duty. Thus our testing is as difficult as possible so that we may know the caliber of our potential members. At the moment of the kinighting the new knights will be given their silver lance. Every member of the Silver Lances is very proud of this honor. Having survived this trial period and proved yourself worthy is the reason for the deep bond between the members of the Order. There is not one member who would not drop whatever he or she was doing to come to the aid of another, no matter what the occasion. It is important to realize that the Silver Lances work very hard for the Realm of Tethyr. Most of the members have been officers of the Realm or served as Errant Knights. They have also partaked in many of the Silver Lances or Realm's events. So, I will proceed to name now the aspirants that will be knighted today to uphold the ideals of Justice, Honor, Faith and Courage as Knights of the Realm. The master cleared his throat to pronounce the names of the new Knights - Lady Larlana Hallow, Sir Thierulf Arguyle and Sir Gorthan Redhand. Please rise and step ahead. - The three candidates advanced to the steps of the small stairs, to then step on the platform where the Master awaited in the altar. Thierulf gave one more glance to check if his father was watching. He always wanted to prove his father that he could be a true knight, and he had achieved it. His father -had- to see it. But his father was not there - Kneel, Knight - said the Master as Thierulf's turn came - Hold a hand on your heart and the other on the Holy Tome, and repeat with me the vows of the Knight. - Thierulf felt the pressure going up, this was the moment he had been wishing all his life. He would be given his lance and warhorse… he was... a Knight. But his father wasn't there to watch it. What was wrong? The Master tapped Thierulf's shoulder to awake him from distraction, whispering - Come on son, don't ruin it all now. - Thierulf nodded and wholeheartedly, pronounced the vows. **- Adress each Knight always with his proper title, that we may be reminded of the respect and honor due one another. Obbey the Knight of higher station in all things. Value the honor of our Order above our personal honor; value our Order above our lives. Render such aid to those in need as to a fellow Knight; indulge the ignorant or witless even unto a fault, but suffer no slur or insult to our honor from those who lack such excuse. Never violate an Oath you have sworn. Never take an Oath you know you can not keep. Engage the enemy forthrightly that he may know the origin of his doom; set no ambush nor indulge any base of trickery to overcome the foe. Give quarter to those who yield and render up prisoners in honorable exchange. Let no patrol or command be tainted with the stain of cowardice; once the enemy has been engaged, let him fall under our sword, or let us fall under his. Refuse no honorable truce or parley. Suffer not to shelter among us any who would violate, ignore, or dishonor this code.** Thierulf took deep breath as it was done, before the Master spoke again, to make an important question, traditional, though rarely answered - Any of the new Knights wishes to become Questing Knight? - the Master proceed - As Questing Knight, and unlike Realm Knight, you will be free of order and command of the Realm. In exchange, you will have to give up your lance. A Questing Knight has two main goals. One is to fight the evil beyond the confines of our Realm wherever it lies. The second is to quest for relics forgotten or lost to evil, but still precious to your faiths, the Order or the Realm. The vows you just took will still apply in all cases, and you will still be required to aid your country if it's deemed necessary by the Order. The Quest Knight gives up his home and his lance, but in his holy quest can earn the title of Champion whilst Realm Knights can reach the position of Captains. I will make the question once more. Any of you wishes to become Questing Knight? For some seconds that seemed to be hours, Thierulf debated himself wether or not accept this. He wouldn't have the honor to fight for his land, to protect it from evil, and he would have to leave his home again. He had been away long enough, five years with his grandfather learning martial arts and strategy, and three more as Errant Knight in the land of Narfell. In the other hand, he had left some things unfinished in that northern land. He had made friends, had known a lady which thought always brought a smile to his face even in most difficult situations, he had made enemies, one of which still had a pending debt, and… his father. His father hadn't come to the ceremony. Wasn't he proud of him? What was wrong? "Why stay at home, if my own father doesn't value me?" was the last though that crossed his mind before he raised suddenly - I want to become Questing Knight. The Master gave a look at Thierulf - Are you sure, son? - Thierulf nodded, with detrmination - More than ever - The Master nodded slowly - So be it - the Master reached for a blue tabard embroidered in golden thread with a Fleur de Lys, symbol of the quest, also in gold on it, and gave it to the young Knight - May the gods watch over you, Sir Thierulf Arguyle, Questing Knight of Lathander. Thierulf bowed his head respectfully and as the ceremony finished left the temple and Darromar, almost rushing. He had a new destination with an higher responsability, taking a way that he already knew well. The way to Narfell.