Sir Jonald, a living legend
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"We had both been held in place by a foul spell casted by the evil and wretched ghouls in the barrows underneath Peltarch. Both unable to move a single muscle, unable to defend ourselves and being targeted by several undead. I thought we were done for, that it was the end for us... I thought that, until I saw the look in Sir Jonald's eyes. He had not the look in his eyes of someone that is going to die. He only had conviction, determination, an unyielding faith and sense of duty to eliminate those undead. He filled me with those feelings, like the sun fills the darkness with it's sunrays... and I knew everything would be alright.
We were being wounded, surrounded by a dozen of ghouls, zombies and wights. Spells were being casted at us, too, denting our defenses. But we didn't despair, and soon enough Sir Jonald managed to break free of the spell. He furiously attacked the undead! Killing two with a single thrust of his rapier, enhanced by the powers of Milil divinity. He pushed the undead around me, so when i freed myself shortly after from that spell, I was able to support him. His movements were precise, his steps firm and decided. And there was right there an almost tangible aura of gloriousness around him as he lead us to victory.
It was a fierce fight, but his determination and contagious resolve turned the tides of the fight that day.. and that's how I knew Sir Jonald would become a legend, and that it was my duty to keep a record of it."
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~ A Worthy Death ~
"It is only because of Sir Jonald's brave heart and divine soul that I sit here before you to tell you this story.
We were in the foothills west of peltarch, and we were fighting the usual orcs and worgs when it came to our comprehension that so many orcs had to be coming from somewhere, furthermore, be led by someone! So we decided to put an end to these orcs business by trying to find their lair and slay them all. We pushed through the frozen forest, dealing with the winter wolves and orcs. It was hard, the cold was chilling to the bones, but Sir Jonald and I pressed on without falter. We cleared the freezing woods, and we spotted a cave entrance from which we could hear a lot of Orc babblering. It was our duty to head in and end with their misserable and rotten existence.
We encountered heavy opposition, from spellcasters, orcs with large swords, and arbalesters, but we still pushed through with the help of my singing and Sir jonald's legendary combat skills.After defeating dozens and dozens of the orcs, from the main floor and the upper floor, Sir Jonald detected some incredibly tainted evil from below... we thought that must've been the leader, and it was our chance to deal with it once and for all!
We headed down the crowded cave. We fought even more orcs, from all sizes and power... but nothing , nothing compared to the Orc that was leading them. It was a towering, hulking, ugly, stink-faced Orc weilding two axes. Grishnak the Elfslayer himself, you might've heard of him before...a very vicious and remarkably bloody-lust orc.
I knew Sir Jonald wouldn't doubt a single second, so I tossed my shield aside to be able to cast without failure. A Haste spell on him, to be able to keep up with the orc, who wasn't alone. Was accompained by one of their elite warriors. I tried to get my shield back, but they pushed us back and I had no time for it. The fight was tough, we managed to strike the orc several times, but it wouldn't flicker. It was bleeding but unyielding, not even stopping is relentless strikes on Sir Jonald. I was flanking, hoping that he wouldn't turn on me.
It was already severly wounded, and I thought that'd make him go softer on his axe strikes, but I couldn't have been any more wrong... He viciously struck Sir Jonald, pushing his head against the wall, making him fall down and lose consciousness. My eyes opened wide, I wanted to scream, but the orc , thinking Sir Jonald dead, turned on me and cut me in half with a single strike. I died, I was there , cold on the ground.. while Sir Jonald innerly fought for his life. You won't believe me, but the last thing I could feel before leaving this world... was Sir Jonald's lament for not being able to help me at that moment, his pain at seeing me die.
Even when he was fighting for his own life, he worried about me. Isn't that touching?
I think it was because of that that he mustered enough strength to recover from the wounds. He didn't even think of running for his life! he instead took a chance to drink some healing, and immediatly charged towards Grishnak and it's minion. I cannot say how glorious and epic that fight must've been, because I was not present. Well.. I was, but cold dead. But sir Jonald, as I've said many times, is a man of honour, a man full of bravery, and even more... a man friend of friends. He defeated the foul orcs for my sake, for what they had done to me. And he carried my dead corpse all through the woods back to the city.
And if you think this would be all of it, you'd be wrong... for he, in all his good will , after he raised me from the dead with the help of priest Galin of the Triad, ... gave me half of his gold so we would be equally poor, or how I see it.. equally rich".
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~ The Fleeing Ruse ~
"Deep into the swamps we ventured, Sir Jonald an I, together. Our firm steps imprinted in the mud as we fought our way through Kobolds first and then larger lizards. Nothing remarkable about those enemies, or perhaps it was Sir Jonald's skills what made it feel like a walk in the park. A muddy , gloom, smelly park.
Even the lizard-filled cave wasn't much of a challenge. We kept pushing through, Sir Jonald at the front, until we found an exit.
The sun was on top of us, and the heat within the full pate was almost unbearable, but Sir Jonald has the enthusiasm of a new adventurer, everytime, even in the worst of situations. He's a true beacon of hope and inspiration wherever he is.
As i was saying, we came out of the cave and made our way south to explore that part of the swamps. Everything looked fairly easy. A few more lizards here, a few bugs there. But suddenly, we found what could've been a fatal enemy. A troll. It was an ugly troll that started chanting as soon as he saw us, conjuring lightning upon us. We charged him, but suddenly more of the trolls cave from within the treeline to our side. One, two, three... there were almost ten trolls surrounding us, and two of them doing magics! We started to get wounded and they were so tough, and even their wounds would heal up. I looked at Sir Jonald. His semblant didn't show a single bit of fear. Again that decided look on his eye.
But I wasn't Sir Jonald, my friends, and I did feel some worry and fear within me. And so I called for a retreat. Sir Jonald wouldn't leave me on my own, so he followed after me, but always being in between the Trolls and myself, to protect me. Even in the most dire situations, Sir Jonald is always thinking of his comrades. Such is the living legend he is.
We ran through the swamp, jumping over mud, sorting around fallen trees... until we reached a higher ground position that Sir jonald, wisely, considered to be perfect and enough to finish the battle. He turned around and started to fight again the Trolls, which were still arriving. He urged me to join the fight, reassuring me that we'd win this one. He's never lied to me, He's never failed me, so I had no reason not to believe him.
It was a long battle, and we both got severly wounded. We had to give our very best ... but in the end, we managed. As I was standing there, catching on my breath whie watching the pile of dead trolls, Sir Jonald came up to me, smiling. He pat me on the shoulder with his gauntleted hand and said "Good plan to pretend that we were fleeing, to reposition ourselves for the true fight. They fell for it". And that's the kind of man he is. Brilliant, strong, decided, and despite of all that... humble. "