Tales of Gareth

The following tales are of notable events where members of Gareth overcame the odds to win the day, were given personal tributes or were the object of amusing rhymes. Iolius.

The Icewall Saga

Gwaine and Vander slay Qevarris

The first dragon to roam Algoron,

was the red Qevarris of evil's spawn.

No men could slay him for he was too strong,

For even all of those in Gareth belonged.

But the magnificent red dragon was found to be vulnerable,

a holy item internally would kill him - or so was the fable.

So riding out to meet him with with weapons and shield,

was Sir Gwaine d'Aggravaine and Squire Vander Holyfield.

In combat the dragon was too much for the knights,

and the squire fell after a vigorous fight.

Sir Gwaine cunningly slipped,

the artefact into the corpse.

with his subtefuge skills and valiantly,

fled the scene on his horse.

As he galloped away,

Sir Gwaine taunted him in to say,

"Now you have slain him and you are the winner,

how about eating your victim for dinner?"

Qevarris laughed in his horrible way,

and then shouted out to Gwaine to say,

"I shall eat this poor squire,

as I must be fed.

Then I am coming for you Sir,

and I'll eat you with bread.

I shall slay you and with my claws I will shred,

for this bread needs a delicious Sir-Gwaine-tasting spread."

Now Sir Gwaine - he did not like this at all,

and from his horse from fear he almost did fall.

But Qevarris the Red was vain to his word,

and swallowed the squire whole even though he was spurred.

Then he took to the air to follow Sir Gwaine,

when in his stomach he felt a terrible pain.

A pain that was searing white hot through to his head,

and in a matter of moments he crashed to the earth dead.

Now let this be a lesson to those who still do not know,

it is better to be eaten than those who ride away with the show.

For will those remember the bold fleeing knight?

Or the poor squire who was snack midnight?

For to be remembered takes noble brave deeds,

rather than bold knights taking terrified flight on their steeds.

The Ballad of Seal and Pythia

Back in the days when the earth was young,

and the world lay in one continent.

there was born a love tale now often sung,

of two souls who reached contentment.

A bold young man fresh from Deep Water,

a clerist known as Seal Breingiton.

Did ride forth from that cold place,

south to Althainia where sun it shone.

Deep Water was a cold harbour town,

with stone fortifications true.

Knights of the Mark protected it from enemies,

and it had never been subdued.

When Clerist Seal did arrive,

he found men to his liking.

Men who preached truth and love,

whilst evil they were fighting.

The Knighthood of Gareth Keep!

he did aspire to join its ranks,

Lady Kiery he petitioned strong,

and upon entry he gave deep thanks.

Upon joining Gareth he toiled long,

he trained until he was very strong.

Then a crusader's lance did he chose,

and that would be what he would use.

Back in the days when the earth was young,

the insidious Eclipse did dwell just west of Gareth.

And more of the enemy would come than the Knighthood could cope,

many Yinn crusaders arrived there with their combat leader Kerith.

Squire Seal fought there with his bold friend,

Sir Piergeron - outgunned and outnumbered.

Scattered to the winds they were upon the battles end,

Piergeron made it back to the Keep but Seal became hunted.

Past the guarded Keep he flew and sorely hurt he was,

whilst running hard north did he flee to forest Shalonost.

With five pursuers at his back deeper to the forest did he run,

till he could run no more he came upon a hollow log almost done.

He dived inside,

to try to hide.

When he heard a soft surprised moan,

quickly he realised he was not alone.

A surprised elven woman quickly recognised his plight,

and wove around the log a magic spell closing it up tight.

A mighty cry of dismay was shouted from without,

as they could not force a way within after Squire Seal's rout.

Seal groaned as he beheld the eyes which had surely saved him,

two shimmering almonds looked back to his within the darkness dim.

That darkness overcame him and unconsciousness did claim him,

a dilemma came to she,

of this strange human in her tree.

This elven maiden was just not any dancer from the forest.

But its Speaker and leader Pythia Shalonost.

Long she had dwelt and there in the log had stayed,

Now alone but not for long as once she was married.

Bold decisions she usually quickly made,

but in this instance she tarried.

With her long experience drawn of humans,

she knew they could not be trusted.

Their short lives gave no guarantee,

and yet she was getting flustered.

This hurt young man was close to death,

handsome and noble his features were.

His goodness to her radiated with every breath,

to save just any human would simply not occur.

Decision was taken without any consideration from her head,

instinct did prevail and she chose from the heart instead.

She applied her druidic craft to him and washed and dressed his wounds,

and her skill given to him returned Seal from his doom.

He regained consciousness thanks to her healing lore,

and she nursed him back to health beyond his bloody war.

While he was sleeping fondness grew for the feverish knight,

and when he regained consciousness it gave her quite a fright.

Long did they tarry there as he regained his health,

of everything did they speak and of about himself.

When at last they did depart there was magic in the air,

If he never saw her again life about he would not care.

And yet every tale ever told to him about love of elf and man,

ended in tragedy because of the difference in lifespan.

He quickly realised that this fate would be his,

but because of the love he felt for her,

he sought to end their bliss.

Worse still did he find that this was not just any elf,

but the Forest's Speaker Pythia Shalonost.

Whilst he was just a lowly squire what could to her he bring?

he thought about it quite a while and came up not with anything.

He offered to receive her not,

and she respected his desire.

But neither of them could stop,

nor suppress their ever-growing fire.

It so consumed them both so that they could not deny,

and both made roses many in number to simply blow away.

At last when he was Knighted he felt better of the match,

but many of her Senators disagreed with their Speaker's catch.

Not to mention tragedy which came of man and elf,

which neither of them wished upon him or herself.

Now they would meet again since he was now a Knight,

and long time they would spend together talking into the night.

Quickly did he rise in Gareth's ranks,

While fighting valiantly on all the flanks.

Holding officer commands in Shield and Lance,

before Knight of the Crown did he advance.

At arms length they always were as this was knightly proper.

Virtue demanded total code discipline or he would come a cropper.

Lady Krysten searched for a new Lord Knight,

and in Seal she found one which was right.

With all of Knighthood in his thrall,

he felt now worthy of Shalonost's hall.

So each of her Senators he did entreat,

to prove himself worthy when they did meet.

Many trials and tribulations did they set,

and each challenge put to him was met.

Through virtue, discipline and Knightly quality,

they gave him her hand in much frivolity.

Together they had much fulfilment, happiness and all along,

blessed with Aengus, Ohlivia and Baldwin Breingiton.

Much happy time was spent complete,

In the vallenwood's quiet retreat.

But the spectre of tragedy did hang over their heart,

many times whilst together a cry for help and he would depart.

When Gareth's voice would often loudly call,

his loyalty to it was paramount to them all.

Placed in danger upon many occasion,

the mortality of men bore much persuasion,

to this elven maiden bold,

her fear for him would unfold.

At last fate said in the twilight of his life,

that he would fall in combat with Yinnae strife.

Ambushed between Serpantol,

and the village of Pan-toll.

Set upon in battle with his old squire,

a caravan of children was placed most dire.

The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder,

and the yinn could not move them for they were bolder.

The fight went on till the children were safe,

but to Sir Seal and his squire came death's embrace.

Overwhelmed by superior odds,

There they fell as ordained by the Gods.

A train of knights did come to find,

last words from this fine soldier's mind.

He passed to Sir Kuldan what for wife to keep,

then slowly drifted into sleep.

The tragedy of love for elf is real,

Now she is without Lord Seal.

Now alone this world to tread,

without her love to walk instead.

But myths and fairy tales it provides the bard,

for they are held in high regard.

Other tales of tragic love seem quite pallid,

compared to Seal and Pythia's ballad.

A Toad’s Tale

An amusing story before transpired,

Knights resting at the altar and quite tired,

Sir Seal Breingiton fell O so foul,

Of the brew of Moonwind’s concoction gel,

For when he brewed, Sir Breingiton,

No longer of a human kind was born.

And there in Sir Seal’s place,

Was slimy frog with a shocked face.

Sir Levin, Sir Pell and a kender Querloff,

Went forth to seek his wife so soft.

But she was tardy in her coming,

And for the frog quite overcoming.

Did kiss upon dwarf womankind,

Just as his wife Pythia did him find.

The Elven Speaker fled,

After seeing such a kiss,

Flew in a rage and sped,

From toad expecting bliss.

Raucous laughter from the Knights,

First bewildered dwarf woman kind.

But she got there in the end,

Bringing Sir Seal back to his friends.

When he summoned the courage to return home,

His confidence shrinking to that of a gnome,

When first step inside to settle the matter.

An earthenware mug on the wall did shatter.

To undertake such defensive moves,

Whilst up upon his stallion’s hoofs.

But dodging this time in his own house,

Looking for safety as if a mouse.

After several mugs had been destroyed,

No new strategy had he since deployed.

So in the face of such a terrible wrath,

Poked his head up, hoping they were soft.

Down tumbled the tincan knight,

Never before in such a terrible fright.

Standing again (though he was swaying),

She hurled it again (he was still paying).

Though with every ample hit,

Her terrible rage abated a bit.

Then at last when she was out of ammunition,

And he suffering many kinds of incision,

The terrible physical volley at last had stopped,

And the verbal one made him wish it had not.

Muse's poem for Gwaine

In response to thine attentions, Ser Gwaine

Sweet Gwaine -

I shalt not come to thee until my Lord sayeth, "Yea"

and touch mine brow, and with blessings sayeth, "Impart."

I shalt not further ponder bliss not meant to know

nor tear and offer secretly merest portion of mine heart.

I shalt not crouch concealed behind thine oaken door

to bestow in favour on thy lips the promise of mine touch.

Nor shalt I indulge in whispers where any ear couldst hear.

I shalt dull mine eyes, so none perceive thy bright reflection much.

Yet when mine Lord permits, and answers fervent prayer,

I swear to thee, I shalt find thee, and hasten to thy side.

Wearing His bright blessing that all may know tis true

I shalt come to thee most freely, and with thee in love abide.

- Muse

On Our Love, a poem for Eyrk

Sparkling of candlelight burning

flashes that dance on edges of birds' wing

Soaring lightly on sweet winds

breaths that moisten parched tree limbs

Sprinkling rains of hearts singing

joy that grows in the roots of willows weeping

Soothing strength of stone within

mountains that crest where clouds spin

Stories of love untold inside us unfolding

burning in candlelight sparkling.

- Dame Datai Amberillo, Captain of the Shield

The Unicorn

Spirals of warmth ascending in song

borne on graceful hoofbeats

hearts pattering and growing strong

the graceful horn melody joyfully bleats

calling wisdom to my side

with soft and warm snow white

wash away painful tears cried

Spiraling songs to warm all right.

- Dame Datai Amberillo, Captain of the Shield

The Paladin, for Dame Caelana

Glowing warmth of keep hearths

close and blood red center

Filling veins in wings of larks

flight to dispel Love's winter

In cold steel and hot battle

burning strength from holy blade

Slicing darkness which quiver and rattle

cadences through funeral glade

Filled with hope of sunlit hearts

warm and safe at keep hearths.

- Dame Datai Amberillo, Captain of the Shield

The Call, a song for Gareth Keep

Never there, ever there,

Though my heart aches for knights fair,

Ever passing, ever questing,

Riding with bright hands blessing,

Even alone our hearts a pair,

So to you I’ll always repair,

Each of us a stone and rock,

Bearing the beloved ramparts we walk,

Though time home may be rare,

Know worthy knights be holding there,

Standing fast to beloved keep,

For comrades come and gone don’t weep,

Never there, ever there,

They always guide us as Light's flare,

Lighting the darkness,

Evil flee us,

Ride on with hope to spare,

Our heart is ever there,

In keep, in home,

On Justice's throne,

Never there, ever there,

Though my heart aches for knights fair,

I will ride where Light does send,

And should it be to my end,

Boldly take joy into evil's lair,

Never such darkness we need bear,

For our home is inside us,

And comrades ride on thus,

Never there, I’ll not despair,

Gareth keep, I’m always there.

- Dame Datai Amberillo, Captain of the Shield

Carry Me Home, a song of Sir Trellor Almstead

Of Sir Trellor Almstead, Lord Lance, let it be known,

He was a fair knight, and steady as stone,

Skill at arms and bravery second to none,

But singing his praises I'm not yet done,

Kind and at service to the ladies, you see,

This quiet knight was an omnipresent bodyguard to me,

Over field and vale, near and far we'd roam,

After patrol I could be sure he'd carry me home.

No matter how far or inane my request,

He'd always ride along at my behest,

To the New Thalos ball I went with Aedon, Knight,

A vampire appeared there and we started a fight,

After the dust had settled from the hate and foam,

It was Sir Trellor who arrived to carry me home.

When wretched white dragons tried to put me on ice,

This sort of thing happened more than twice,

Cold, lost, blind and in dire need,

I'd soon hear the galloping hooves of crusader's steed,

Daring to try to whisk me away all on his own,

Heroic Sir Trellor would carry me home.

Now, in altar room, when not out on patrol,

He'd listen to me chatter on matters of the soul,

And though normally quite content at his place,

One eve I did see a rather melancholy look on his face,

For every evil from demon to cruel gnome,

None would come out, even to face him alone.

"Sir, the night is young," I cheerily said,

"We should go patrol the Bouncing Bugbear instead."

To this my friend hmmed and hawed politely,

But to my request he consented in manner most knightly,

And so off to the Madaur's second home,

I set about breaking Sir Trellor's visage of stone.

Round after round, I forget how many we had,

Well into the late hour, we were both quite glad,

"Here's a demon for you to slay," I said with a smile,

And I slid him a shot of demon bile.

Eager to take on all challenges alone,

Sir Trellor downed the shot, and made a horrible groan.

With a mighty armored crash he hit the floor,

At which point I knew my friend could take no more,

"Alas," I sighed, "they say turnabout is fair play."

And I slowly gathered him up, and dragged him away,

So now to all it is known,

Of the time I carried Sir Trellor home!

- Dame Datai Amberillo, Captain of the Shield

The Ladies' guide to Knighthood (Or how to land the right husband in-a-(k)night)

Sure, they fight evil, do noble deeds, and strike heroic poses..

but how do the men of the Knighthood _really_ measure up?

So here it is, girlfriends (and any interested guys too ;), the ultimate scale to measure a Knighthood man:

General: 2 points - its good to be the general ;P

Other officers: 1 point - choose wisely; someday one of these guys may be a general

important sounding title: 1 point - High Justice, Assistant to the grand poohbah... whatever, it always looks impressive on a resume

squire: -1 points - why settle for a knight wannabe when you can have the real thing?

page: -2 points - um.. whatever, might make a cute toy boy. Fetch me that pail, farm boy ;P

medals, stars * : 1 point each - what do they mean? I don’t know, but they sure do look impressive in the title :)

good desc: 2 points - every girl deserves a handsome knight, write your best, and _please_ format it and use proper grammar

no written desc: -2 points - what am I looking at here, a man or a mouse?

cute accent: 1 point - its not what you say, but how you say it

(Wanted): 1 point - they are, you know... wanted ;>

royalty: 1 point - connections to a kingdom; has huge tracks of land

palie points!: 2 points - reclassing palie has to be good for something...

bard points: 2 points - lets face it, us bards are sexy ;>

can cast 'frenzy' and/or 'berserk': 1 point - they look soooo cute

when they get that wild look in their eyes

can cast 'lay on hands': 1 point - this spell has many practical uses

can 'empower' weapons: 1 point - <innocent>

can cast "enchant": 1 point - mages can be very enchanting dates

can cast "enchanting touch": 1 point - oooohhhh baby!

can cast "charm" or sing the "song of charm": 1 point - this is very charming ;)

can sing "99 bottles of beer on the wall": 1 point - always a good time

can cast "bark skin": 1 point - a little texture goes a long way

can cast 'divine protection': 1 point - who says birth control is sacrilegious??

can cast 'stone skin': 1 point - a hard man is good to find

can cast 'enhanced recovery': 1 point - just a tick, and he's ready for another round!

can cast "web" or "entangle": 1 point - kinky!

has whips skill at 100%: 1 point - more kinky!

has tumbling skill at 100%: 1 point - acrobatics are good in the bedroom

can 'fake': -2 points - that's sooo lame!

has riding skill at 100%: 1 point - all knights should be proficient in this

has charge skill at 100%: 1 point - all knights should be ready to thrust themselves into battle!

has rescue skill at 100%: 1 point - whats the point of a knight that can't save you?

has polearm skill at 100%: 2 points - if you don’t understand, ask your mom

- Dame Datai Amberillo, Captain of the Shield

Interview with a Vampire

Editor’s note: I have come across this old manuscript in the library of Pan-toll written by a Knight of Gareth. It describes state of Vampirism long ago in so far as those afflicted and the powers they possessed. As the affliction no longer exists, I include this work for posterity and in case should darkness bring undead once again to our fair world, and the knowledge of these older times will become useful again. The words in the headings are taken in note form from one Ishamael Rinji by one Paleceron Madaur. Unfortunately, the manuscript has been damaged over time, indeed some whole sections have been completely torn out, but I have attempted to piece it together as best I can.

Iolius.

Interview with a Vampire – Paleceron Madaur, Captain of the Lance.

I have just slain the vampire Ishamael Rinji. Now that he has had the affliction of vampirism removed from him, he seeks revenge against his former kind. For reasons unbeknownst to me he has sought his slayer to tell of his previous affliction.

Weary from constant holy zapping and fighting evil, a chill suggestion entered my mind, calling me to the Tavern of the Bouncing Bugbear, where incidentally, every hour is happy hour.

It was after the last watch, and the customers had long since departed. The "Nasty Hobbits" had finished their last set and gone home. Pierre the award winning ribs chef had uncharacteristically left his secret herbs out, leaving a thick aroma hovering in the kitchen, mixing with the lingering smells of the night's cooking.

A single candle in the corner, which shed no light upon a hooded figure who stood behind the bar.

Reflex. Steel flashed out, the glow of my holy weapon shed light upon the retreating shadow.

An insubstantial voice half croaked and half hissed like a man on his death bed.

'Put away your weapons Seeker, and you shall have the information you wish. Ask me questions of my nature, for my soul is weighs heavily with the consequences of my actions.'

What follows is the information gleaned from this unlikely interview, taken in note form.

General

Vampires become stronger over time.

A thrall is a mortal taken by a vampire and fed from several times.

It takes many moons to make your thrall a lesser vampire.

Thralls suffer no detrimental effects.

Silver stakes can be purchased from Stanley.

The afflict.... when a master turns its thrall to the other side.

If a vampire does not feed, It is merely a need. A vampire must feed or they begin to die. They won't ever die, but, they will become very, very hurt and tired, making it impossible to do anything effectively.

The vampire feeding spots. Ishamael usually gated to Kalia in Arkane, in the thieves hideout, Gully dwarves is a popular one as well. Dwarven kingdom and the ....

Vampires that can summon bats have no need to .... they can simply feed from their bats.

There is little difference between undead and the living except in that they drink blood instead of water and are much stronger. They need air, but their heart does not beat. They are very secretive.

Vampires are weaker during the hours of day and stronger during the night hours.

Vampire progression

When a new vampire is created, they start out very weak. They are vulnerable to just about every weapon including .... After ....fty moons they are known as a 'lesser vampire'. When they move past this phase they become a full vampire. Here they lose some of their vulnerabilities, such as ....nd so forth. Fla....oly will work the best. At .... they become somewhat resistant to ....hing weapons. At ....red moons, much changes, the vampire can turn one of their thralls. They also become resistant to magic and lose most of their vulnerabilities apar.... A vampire may possess around five thralls. They are also then very resistant to .... weapons and such. When a vampire turns a thrall, they lose a some strength, and regress to a weakened state.

If a vampire reaches the age ....ome a Lord Vampire. They become ....pes of attacks and resist magic more.

Who

There are 5 different families of vampires.

Rhea leads one family, and Mia and Aerte are present there. Mia was staked and made a vampire again in the same day.

Kutt lead another family, though Joras leads it now after he was staked. Caledor was a vampire for a short time, and Jjik'da and Kayja also.

Rhea is the only first generation vampire remaining apart from M'kaath.

First generation vampires are the head of their family and make all of the decisions. They have no master apart from 'the one.'

The one, is simply, the rip in the realm that allowed vampires to exist. I won't delve too much into that, as it's hard to explain.

Ericka was the leader of the strongest and most populous by far. Ericka turned Agtinon. Agtinon turned Ishamael and Oneth. Ericka turned Sorcia. Sorcia turned Shay.'

The other family was Caine's, but it has ceased to exist.'

M'kaath is his own family.

Ihsan, Navik and Juelian will be vampires soon, perhaps.

The remaining vampires at present are Shay, Sorcia, Mia, Aerte, Rhea, Jjik'da, Joras, M'Kaath

In each family, there is an Archon, usually a second generation vampire who is the master of that family's thrall. They are basically an enforcer appointed by the master of the family and handles all the family troubles and take over as head should the elder perish.

Ericka and Ishamael were the only Lord Vampires. Oneth may be one by now.

There isn't fighting amongst the vampires ... usually each family stays pretty much to the themselves.

There is a conspiracy with the political leadership of Shalonesti and many who have held some power have been a vampire at some point.

It is not known yet if Juelian accepts them or is against them as Aerte did.

Rhea has a manor, where many vampires rest unharmed, vampires may allow their brethren to be invited there. It's just a regular manor to any mortal .... there are secret entrances for vampires. It's quite the house. There are dwarves tied to the walls for the vampires to feed on .... you could stay there forever and never have to leave.

Powers

There are many pages which have been blotted with ink from the original manuscript in this chapter, most likely by someone with an interest on this subject. It is extensive, but I can only make out the parts of the texts which are outlined below. I suspect this may have been done while vampires remained on Algoron, but outlines the danger of leaving manuscripts in public libraries. Iolius.

.... powers are passed dow....ffliction random...heir masters ....

.... thrall and the master form a mental link....

.... a mist-like form or that of a bat, which cann....

.... it drains mana from the victim every ho...

.... mostly granted to Bladesingers, is screaming pierc....

.... bury themselves in places where th....ed by an earthquake....

....ampires can cloak....

....ability to bloodvis.... the eyes .... thralls ....heir family.

.... can communicate with each other telepath....

In Ishamael’s mastership not a single spe... ast upon him....

.... daylight, vampires can not cloak ....e night, unless....

Dealing with Vampires

You must pour holy water on a sleeping victim till they burn before the staking.

You must have witnessed the vampire's skin burning under the application of holy water and then impale them.

If he's sleeping it is easier to pour on them. Strangle is the most effective way, as magical sleep is too difficult to land.

When they are staked with a regular weapon, they lose part of their vitality and their moons as a vampire is cut in half.

Vampires can only die a total of .... before the affliction is too weak to survive, and it fades.

My list ends here. I have never had to write so much in such little time.

“The scratch of quill to paper had filled the night, for there were many questions that demanded answers, answers to which any that held curiosity would find enthralling. Candles were spent and replaced. Pages were filled and placed upon the last.

When all was done, and all recorded, my unsteady hand, burned from this unholy inquisition placed down the quill. A cold chill swept the room, extinguishing the candle. Before it was relit, the dark presence had departed.”

The reader must take this information and use it against the infestation which curses this world. Expose and shame those of the House of Shalonost. Give those of Shadow and Malice no peace. Return them to life, or destroy them utterly.

Take this brother, may it serve you well.

So a compelling history of who they were how they progressed and how to remove them. Sadly a rather less clear indication of their powers when they walked the earth. Should the vampires awaken again, then this information will be required by the forces of good again.

Iolius.

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Lepidus: A Ranger's tale

Thu Jan 15 00:49:18 2009

To: Knighthood Salinor Gwaine Acthus Mercerion

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It was long ago this tale took place, the Keep was being lead by the

Lord Crown Jhervais LaFortinas. I was resting upon the pews, the same that

still sit here today with the General of the Shield, Suradis LaFortinas.

While sitting just watching Jornhya do him work, I was contacted by one that

still is present in the realms today, the Preceptor of Malice, Qilue. She

spoke to me of wagons beginning to move and great change coming and could

use a man of my skill in these new times. Sitting next to one of the

Generals of Gareth, I informed Suradis of what she was saying and he told me

to heed it not, simply the work of a silver tongue. Qilue did try to use

her persuasive abilities on me, but to no avail.

Asking me to meet her east of Arkane, under a white banner, I honored her

request. She again told me of the wagons coming soon and the need for a

few men with good morals that could retain their morals even when swayed to

evil. Again her offer was rejected and she asked me then to come with her

into the Great Forest east of Arkane and meet with another. Once again I

honored her request and traveled into the Great Forest with her until we

came upon a covered wagon seemingly in the middle of no where. Taking me

inside she introduced me to a man in which I really needed no introduction,

it was Bystrick. A name rarely heard or even known in today's world, but back

then was known fairly well as a renegade druid.

Bystrick seemed to have little concern or interest for who I was just

basically restating what Qilue had already told me and said that the wagons

were moving soon and I would be making a decision now and it was in my best

interest to do as they wished. A large sum of eggs was even put upon the

table and told to me that this is the future that awaits for those that want

it. Money was of little importance to me, just as it is today so that

failed to sway my resolve as well. Telling them both I was not interested

and that I'd like to be on my way, I stood to leave, however no sooner had

the words left my mouth was the druids foul magic upon me, in the form of

insects and demonfire. Escaping the wagon I was easily able to escape them

in the size of the Great Forest although not without wounds.

Returning to Gareth Keep, I found Suradis... still sitting on the pews...

I told him what had just happened and events that lead to my returning half

chewed up by insects. No sooner had I told the General what had happened,

the entire world was informed that the Wagons of Gypsy had begun to move

again and Qilue and Bystrick were heading it up. The once destroyed clan of

moving gypsies once again banding together.

I sometimes wonder what may have happened if I had taken the deal, if I had

let my faith in Nadrik go just for some money, for some fun, to do whatever

I want without having to have a conscience about it. However, it is these

things I think that separate a Knight from the average man. It is what

makes us charge into battle against odds that would make a normal soldier's

resolve weaken and flee. It is what makes Gareth Keep still to this day the

outstanding institution of Honor, Justice and Righteousness that it is. I

hope someone may learn something from my tale that may help them in their

life one day.

-Lepidus D'Laine

The Quest for the Holy Lute

The call. That strange and mysterious feeling that every knight feels in their bones from time to time that calls them away to where they are needed most. The wordless summons of the Gods that makes it clear in the knight's mind that they alone must do the task before them. Only they may answer it, and failure is not an option.

I've been on a secret mission on Tropica frisking the natives for unholy weaponry for a while, so it might be a good idea for me to go over a few definitions just to make sure we are all on the same page here. Although I highly recommend a knight instead of a page for these matters.

Dame Datai Amberillo: Me, the bardic dame of the Shield Knights, I'm the narrator, too!

Pferdheim: A legendary barony somewhere in the mountains filled with tall, attractive, blond-haired, blue-eyed men who speak vith ein sexy accent and worship Austinian called PferdRitters.

The official Lute of the Shield: Blue and lute shaped. Not to be used as a hat, breadbox, or flowerpot.

Sir Varner PferdRitter: As sexy as a younger brother can get. He really doesn't have much to do with this tale, I just thought I'd mention him.

Sir Amargein: Paladin of Austinian, and was the new lute-attendent, but was recently demoted to Colonel, probably because of the Lute incident which was probably my fault in the first place.

Sir Garamond: An ex-mage, now paladin of Austinian.

Sir Levin Lachance: An old paladin, now resident of Sarsen Old Folks Home.

As I mentioned, I'd been called back to Gareth Keep by that mysterious feeling which a knight feels from the tip of her nose to the bottoms of her feet. That tingling sensation before your eyes when you realize your last true sight just wore out and now you couldn't see a black dragon on a snow field if your life depended upon it. As it very likely would because a black dragon in a snowy field would be a very unhappy, hungry dragon.

Back at the keep things were about how I left them, unfortunately that means that no one ever ordered those nice yellow draperies I recommended for the Keep years ago. There were lots of new faces too. Including two brand shiny new to me paladins of Austinian, Sirs Garamond and Armagein. At least they have that big happy gold glowy aura and shining armor thing going for them like paladins do. Sometimes though people can get this glow late at night in the candle light after a large number of holy beers without actually taking the vows of paladinesship. Since everyone in the room was sober, it's safe to assume they are real paladins, just like the ones in the fairy tales.

Except neither of them had a plume on their helm.

Their apparently poor taste in fashion was quickly explained. Sir Garamond used to be a mage; I didn't recognize him without his robe on earlier. Magic users, mages, magi, maguseses, or whatever plural pleases you, are notoriously bad at selecting a wardrobe and matching colors. So bad, in fact, that the Concalve has restricted them to wearing uni-sex, one-size magically fits all robes of either black, red, or white; depending on their mood. The wearing of uni-sex robes all the time pretty much blinds them to the nuances of fashion. Which is probably how it ended up that the Mage Dezler made himself a beautiful short gown with sparkling jewels to wear.

While paladins without plumes on their helms are not the most astute followers of fashion, they are exceedingly wise, and in their wisdom, they decided I would look better in a short gown of glimmering jewels than themselves. This is how I ended up with Dezler's dress.

This sort of ability to solve problems and make logical steps in deduction and then positive actions to solve these problems is a sign of officer material! Sir Amargein could certainly make a fine Shield Lute-attendent I figured. So since I obviously had been called back to the Keep for this important reason, I bestowed the lute upon the paladin, and started to teaching him how to play. After he took his gauntlets off, he really started to get the hang of it. Convinced he was on his way to becoming a proper lute attendant, and knew not to use the lute as a hat, a breadbox, or a flowerpot; I headed out to do some important intelligence work for my next mission: Saving Pferdheim. Sir Amargein mentioned it might be in danger, and it just wouldn't do for me to leave all those poor, defenseless, blond-haired, blue-eyed, tall, handsome men with large swords and polearms in the hands of evil. So off I went to Pferdheim.

After spending a few weeks in bars and drinking alot of schnapps, I never could find anyone who knew the way to Pferdheim, so I returned to the Keep to check on things there. Fortunately with the officer Lute training I gave Sir Amargein he had been promoted to Lute-attendant. Unfortunately, he then confessed to me, tired, bleary-eyed, and wiped-out miserable like, that he lost the lute. Obviously the mistake he made was dangerously apparent; its a mistake that alot of new officers make: he had been working too hard. Never in all my days as an officer have I passed out into sleep on the pews in the altar room in front of a member of the opposite sex.

My Schnapps filled mind could only focus on one thing at that moment, and it wasn't the floor: we had to get our lute back! Loosing the lute is alot like dishonoring your sword, only with a lute. I mean, sure, the thing was old, warped, and it did this weird rattling thing, but just because something is old and worn out doesn't mean you should throw it away and get a new one. It means you should get a new one, and keep the old one in a closet out of the way somewhere and only bring it out on holidays. Like we do with Sir Levin.

Since its last known whereabouts was with a kender, the lute could be anywhere now, and being used for just a bout anything (such as a hat, a breadbox, or a flower pot). Paladins are very wise, but are famously poor at negotiating with kender. Kender forms of formal address are very different from ours. While in common they might be called an "irresponsible little snitch thief" they actually should be addressed as "hey, have you seen my __(missing object)__?" This will lead you on a great quest to find whatever it is that you lost, the kender lost, someone found and repainted to sell again, and then was lost in a fishing trip, which another kender found, and traded for something else from an evil dragon's lair. This is why so many stories end with a knight slaying a dragon, incidentally.

I decided the best course of action was to put up a missing lute sign, and then go back to the bar selling schnapps and ask the way to Pferdheim, as I need to check out all their hats, breadboxes, flower pots and polearms now. I noticed later that I used the wrong form of "Its" in my notice, but time is of the essence when you are a knight on quest and unfortunately it is the arts and literature that makes the greatest sacrifices.

NOTICE: Missing Lute

Our lute is missing. Its blue, and has the insignia of the Knights of

the Shield on it. If you see it about (perhaps being used as a hat,

breadbox, or flower pot) do please return it to Sir Amargein, or myself,

Dame Datai. Any information on its current location would also be

appreciated.

Siccara bless,

- Captain Datai Amberillo, Bardic Dame of the Shield

PS: if anyone sees the Magi Dezler, would you please let him know that I have his dress? Thanks!

The Death of Jeursenix, the Black

The 15th of the Ancient Darkness, Day of the Bull,

the Black known as Jeursenix breathed no more.

He chased two Squires as they did train;

until they took shelter within the keep of yore.

Old Gareth prepared and the Squires did wait

for the black to enter through their gate.

Acting on impulse instead of his mind;

the black entered the gate finding no place to hide.

Acthus and Salinor quickly engaged

and the battle would rage on for days.

The Knights of old and the Knights of new;

fought the beast till he was not only black, but blue.

The Black called for help from the horde and the red

but alas Galeru could not save his friend.

Acthus would fall, but Salinor would still fight;

Using his ray of truth to do what was right.

The Red tried to rescue, but he could not stop;

The Knights of Gareth who dealt the last shot.

Had the Black paused, and just used his head

He certainly would not be dead.

- Kuririn Haraldr

Salinor and Acthus slay Jeursenix

This is a tale short and sweet,

of how the end Jeursenix did meet.

Brave Acthus and bold Salinor,

did battle him to death, what’s more.

They did it in Old Gareth's Keep,

up in the void they did entreat,

dark Jeursenix into the gate,

where he would come to meet his fate.

Brave Acthus and bold Salinor,

were training in the trench.

With all the seaweed down there,

it created quite a stench.

Jeursenix and Galeru surprised them there,

so away our noble heroes fled (not in despair).

After moving between the Trench and Fjord,

you'd have thought the dragons would get bored.

But when we opened a gate to old Gareths Keep I say,

along Jeursenix followed to finish his prey.

Jeursenix engaged Sir Acthus hurting him severe,

when all of Gareth's Keep did come running without fear.

He beat his wings now all the time,

to keep our heroes blind.

He did not know as of yet,

that he was running out of time.

Brave Acthus and bold Salinor,

fled outside the Keep,

Jeursenix he stayed inside,

to heal his poor feet.

Ejylas, Glum and Galeru were invited to the chase,

they caught brave Acthus at the entrance to the keep.

And there they slew him whilst he held the breach,

to stop them getting in across the drawbridge steep.

And crash! The mighty portcullis closed from within,

with they on other side.

Bold Salinor was left therein,

with Jeursenix there as well, looked grim.

But lo! There were many knights within to assist,

Brave Salinor saw an opportunity was not to be missed.

He fought the dragon there within,

and during many rounds,

with the assistance of the knights,

he beat the dragon down.

The last he saw fierce Jeursenix,

a ray of truth sent him fleeing, licked.

The dragon looked awful and it looked like tables had turned,

when brave Acthus' advantage gone as the portcullis opened.

Full fury forth the three came forth,

and kicked bold Salinor without remorse.

Whilst fleeing from their powerful blows,

bold Salinor came across the corpse of his foe.

Sorely hurt back in he went to retrieve his sword,

then recalled out mission complete, singing praises to the Lord.

Such feats earned both squires their knighthood,

and worthy knights become they should.

So that is the tale,

of brave Acthus and bold Salinor.

And how they defeated the dragon Jeursenix,

despite so much evil coming through the door.

Just another glorious day in the 'hood

It was early morning in the Vallenwood, the sun shining brightly through the trees, warming the area and causing a soft, misty fog to roll over the area.

Mercerion stood quietly near the yinn commander from Justice, gripping his weapons tightly, watching for any signs of his targeted foes. The wind quite suddenly picked up, and a shadow flew over head. Mercerion looked to the skies, anticipating a foe, and was met with a warming sight, the divine messenger Elisyian. The angel swept to the ground amidst the patrol, and was greeted with praise. Suddenly, the forest was dead silent, not a single creature stirred save the combatants, even the wind was still.

Mercerion gripped his katana and tanto, scanning the fog intensely, looking for his foes. Dragons were supposed to be around here, two chromatics if the reports were correct. As Mercerion scanned the area, quite suddenly the ground shook with two horrible roars.

Mercerion clutched his weapons and stood ready to hold his position with the yinn commander and the angel. He had hardly noticed the quiet entrance from another yinn assassin and small mage. Mercerion lowered his head quickly, praying to Nadrik for strength, and when he looked up, he was met with a ferocious sight. A red dragon had grouped with a blue dragon, and they were soaring at the patrol, the lust for battle shining in their eyes. They came crashing to the ground and leapt upon the Angel, striking viciously with claws and teeth. Mercerion engaged the red dragon, known as Arc'lighter, his katana and tanto flashing with their imbued holiness with every strike. Thrakhath was swinging massive hammers, some of which were Mercerion's size, and struck the red with crushing force, shattering and damaging scales as he went. The corrosive smell of magic was in the air as Tisenel threw spell after spell at the red, eventually lowering his magical protections. At this point, the blue fled for his life, and the angel rejoined the patrol against the red, summoning for the power of the sun. Mercerion kicked a cloud of dirt into the red's eyes as he attempted to gate away from the combat, and was forced to flee. The patrol gave chase, but to no avail, the red had escaped.

A few moments later the blue known as Siaxsid returned, and engaged the patrol, biting viciously at Thrakhath. Thrakhath counted by smashing the: dragon on the side of the

jaw, freeing himself, while Mercerion again utilized clouds of dirt to disrupt the dragon's vision. The Angel again summoned the sun's power and started to obliterate the blue, causing horrendous damage, while Tisenel and Darlen teamed up to weaken the dragon through spells and pressure points. Mercerion's weapons glinted with holy wrath as he struck the dragon, simulating Thrakhath in the use of heavy hammers and maces, using them to crack the dragon's scales. Justice's warband used every trick they could right alongside Mercerion, weapons, spells, and scales flew in every direction as the battle raged through the forest, uprooting trees and earth as they went Siaxsid managed to break away and flee for his life, only to be cut off by the dragon and pincered by the warband and Mercerion. Elisyian raised her hand and smote the blue dead, with the wrath of the sun.

After that, the warband left for Icewall, and smote members of Greystoke in a swift and holy stroke.

The battle wasn't over however, as Mercerion went back to Gareth to gather squires Vey, Moraen, and Renetar to assault the Citadel. The long patrol was set, and they had

crossed the wastelands of Frostania, shivering from the cold. Mercerion looked up at the spire of the Citadel, the Horde's colors flying high over it, and prayed to Nadrik, vowing to take the keep for the light, and in His honor. Mercerion gave a quick nod to the patrol, eager to get started inside and out of the cold. The patrol consisted of himself, Acthus, Salinor, and Tegyr, the usual keep runners as of late. The patrol dove into the keep, coming to a locked door, which wasn't unexpected, and began making quick work of the guards. Acthus pulled the key and unlocked the door, running off to set off the sinking platform.

Quite suddenly the floor fell, and the patrol, minus Acthus, was caught fighting guards in a lower level. Mercerion worked the lever furiously trying to raise the wall so Acthus could come through, and eventually he did, and the patrol moved to its next set of guards.

Acthus again pulled the key, and the patrol repeated its previous process, moving on to the last set of guards. At this set, Tegyr grabbed the key, and they scrambled into the Citadel's spire, climbing with the greatest of haste.

They gathered themselves and dove in to combat the lord, and the lord was ready for them, dealing massive cleaving blows that sent the patrol sprawling. The knights continued to fight valiantly, despite being tossed about the throne room like feathers on the wind, striking hard and fiercely. Mercerion and Tegyr wrestled with the lord, trying to gain the upper hand, and keep him on his back, while Acthus and Salinor used maladictive magics to weaken him. Eventually the lord struck down Salinor, and then Acthus, leaving Tegyr and Mercerion to fend for themselves against him. Mercerion was beginning to weaken, and the lord saw this and stuck hard at Mercerion, scoring a hit through Mercerion's armor. Mercerion felt himself falling to the ground, losing sense of his surroundings and then he was lying on his back, looking up at the lord, who struck down on Mercerion with a hammerblow, killing him. Mercerion awoke in the altar room next to his compatriots, all of whom the Lord Nadrik had graciously protected and transported their gear with their spirits. It all depended upon Tegyr now, who managed to successfully bring down thelord of the citadel and have him pledge his loyalty to Gareth. The Knights and the Long Patrol had succeeded.

Pages of Demons

And herein lies a tale.

which will make you feel safe.

For there are Knights of Gareth,

who will put evil in its place.

The yinn Knight Tegyr found the demon Hythyr,

in the evil spawning pits.

And therein he informed those of the Keep,

with plans to cut him into bits.

Two plucky pages answered the call,

two new skalds from icy wastes.

Quickly did those three prepare,

their weapons for demon tastes.

The three sped through the spawning pits,

where the good brave Knight Tegyr stayed behind.

To hold all the lesser demons,

So that the bigger demon the others could find.

Ruwn and Hataniel ran through the pits,

demons attacking with ferocity.

And yet they stayed the course,

flying on with great velocity.

Separated in those fiendish pits they were,

attacked from every side.

When Ruwn did find the evil Hythyr,

for whom's attention he had vied.

The brave Ruwn cried his challenge alone,

and engaged the demon with all his might.

Not for one single moment,

was he filled with dreadful fright.

Fiercely the battle raged,

much hurt was upon them both.

When the cheery Hataniel,

fulfilled his knightly troth.

Now with two knights raining their wrath upon him,

Demon Hythyr now showed fear.

Although he did not yet know it,

his end was very near.

Hythyr began to panic and showed much fear,

the plucky pages heeded well and saw.

Ruwn made sure the door stayed closed,

while Hataniel tripped him to the floor.

The fearful Hythyr gurgle a throaty scream,

and attacked with a fierce roaring yell.

When one last blow from good page Ruwn,

returned him to his plane of hell.

To such untested pages,

they have earned your firm salute.

For in material terms they aren't much richer,

for he carried little loot.

Citadel Defence. Ten four!

Everyone knows the importance,

of the magical Citadel.

Now I have a tale of fearsome odds,

I am compelled to tell.

Ten followers of the horde there were,

to take the Citadel from the 'hood.

Gareth quickly gathered four with haste,

and in front of the portal they stood.

Captain Mercerion in all his armour,

the Paladin Locknah with his horse.

Page Ruwn and his skaldic ways,

And Captain Salinor of course.

The glowing depths were entered,

and there in they saw a foe.

Xaethiest first fell down from shock,

then to guards and the foursome's blows.

The enemy lay but one room away,

those of knighthood kept their head.

And rallied in organised fashion,

to ensure enemies would be dead.

The remaining nine came to our knights,

Moqui, Sii, Steric, Ejylas, Vyraek.

rained all upon our four along with,

Averoth, Ranganor, Jazaren and Raesik.

The fierce battle raged,

with Ruwn and Locknah absorbing blows,

but it would be the hoarde of 'Lust,

who would receive the bloody nose.

After some tornados,

Moqui was lifted from his seat.

The hoarde of 'Lust did consider,

to beat a hasty retreat.

While the battle raged,

an odd race ensued opposed.

Ruwn did endevour to keep the door open wide,

and Raesik to keep it closed.

When Ruwn at last was blinded,

the 'Lust swashbuckler did seek.

to keep that same door open,

Raesik still closing it he did keep.

More tornados did send away,

Avaroth and what may have been Sii.

But the odds were still against out lads,

Gareth's skill and cool heads now were key.

Within moments Sii had slain some poor soul,

in some far off place,

I wish I'd seen his face,

but he were not of Gareth's race.

Still within the Citadel,

the horde of 'Lust ran in terror.

and such running about in panic,

did lead them to many error.

A song of peace held up the fight,

while Gareth's enemies took flight.

Ejylas and Ranganor would take their falls,

within the Citadel's magical halls.

Then all at once silence fell,

where battle had spoken moments before.

And our four champions of defence and their stand,

is written into Gareth's lore.

Thrice Dragon

Good ladies and gentlemen will you hear?

Of how men of Gareth take their arms to bear?

Deep within the caves of Arkane,

The dragon Suulazultsur was slain.

Four they were that heard the call,

(Sir Gwaine was skulking in the hall).

They all went forth their fame to make,

and they did it all for Nadrik's sake.

Bold Salinor of dragon slaying fame,

Strong Sir Victis brought his good name.

Plucky Ruwn of Deep Water came along,

and Squire Lanan sang all the songs.

First strong Victis and bold Salinor,

came to the Dratakus' lair with war.

In they charged within, without a doubt,

for should it go poorly they could not get out.

The great dragon threw up his wings in stall,

Strong Victis and bold Salinor hit the wall.

But Suulazultsur was already sorely hurt,

With bold Salinor's blow he hit the dirt.

But now within the lair they were caught,

and revenge an angry dragon sought.

For try as they may they could not get out,

Ruwn dispatched Xaethiest and ran off the lout.

The ghostly Suulazultsur returned within,

to knights who slew him to kill at his whim.

The call went up to all to aid,

for death would come within the cave.

Plucky Ruwn dwelt just outside waiting,

Squire Lanan dropped his annotating,

to come to the aid of his brethren,

to remove again the dragon from his skin.

Suulazultsur entered there again wingstalling,

(which our brave knights found rather galling).

Then dragon sent lighting flying every round,

paladin's shield would not send him to ground.

Brave General Victis rescued the ailing priest,

upon Suulazultsur's appetite tried to feast.

Without anyone seeing what was going on,

Ruwn and Lanan entered the lightning storm.

Brave Victis was the first to fall,

bold Salinor too was terribly mauled.

Youthful Lanan almost was up to the test,

But plucky Ruwn the dragon did best.

So twice had the mighty Suulazultsur fallen,

and his anger and rage increased his calling,

to exact terrible revenge to our bold knights,

still caught in Dratakus' lair now in awful plight.

Plucky Ruwn and his spirit still lay within,

the mighty dragon returned and with an evil grin,

assaulted Ruwn alone but for the spirit he called,

and asked poor spirit to rescue who was appalled.

When who should ride into doom's gate again,

but the three brave soldiers, his brethren.

Plucky Ruwn now stood not alone,

all four were there for dragon bone.

Many poor spirits inside would fall,

but our four knights would still stand tall.

Suulazultsur again was slain, now thrice,

and sent to dragon paradise.

Thrice slain with full fatality,

thrice sapped of his vitality.

Let this day go down to all who remembers,

those four brave souls and your clan members.

I recommend then with equal pleasure,

something that three knights will treasure.

Seal's 'Stars of Valour' for decoration,

and forced evils hurt and renovation.

Plucky page Ruwn for his first merit,

of Hythyr slaying and Suulazultsur's legacy inherit.

General Victis gets a fine mention,

for twice slaying Suulazultsur while under tension.

Bold Salinor I give to you,

Jeursenix within old Gareth's Keep and Suulazultsur too.

The Ballad of Sir Tegyr

Winner of Lists to come a non-standard way,

was the yinn assassin Tegyr Vey.

A difficult time inside he would find,

being Serpantol’s bane and not mankind.

Although Sir Breingiton won the tournament,

the papers to Tegyr Vey were duly sent.

For although not in combat had he won,

Sir Breingiton thought him a worthy son.

Many were the voices raised within the keep,

many more again from without were heaped.

But not paying much heed to the latter,

Tegyr won over the former who actually mattered.

While within he squired to Mercurion Mamoritai,

whom difficult tests were hence described.

Played his part in combat, taking Keeps and Citadel,

and of course defending them rather well.

He helped write treatises (and he was rather fond of peaches),

on chivalrous combat for the new extended library,

he helped banish the witch and cleanse the temple priory,

Paving the way for the rebuilding of Gareth,

our honor regained to us forthwith.

He even endured the "Tigger Song",

With much good humour which belonged.

Showed great charisma amongst the knights,

With toothy grins and sheepskin tights.

In his short time he had gained the respect,

Of almost everyone of Gareth whom he’d met.

Even Lord Nadrik came down from on high,

To bless his fine knight – what a guy.

When the Lord came once again,

A test for Tegyr Vey and then,

A choice laid bare to chose with free will,

Renew yourself and I will fulfil,

my enduring support for thee,

if not then the Keep you must flee.

Sir Tegyr Vey had only moments to respond,

He thought upon what he had done and beyond,

So many hours to get him there,

And to start again – he could not bear.

So quite tragically failed Nadrik’s test,

What might have become of him was anyone’s guess.

But alas! It was not to be to Nadrik’s calls,

And Sir Tegyr Vey turned from our halls,

Choosing instead to Shokono in solitude,

Thinking, wanting at that warmer latitude.

Raije's Tournament X

The finals of Raije's Tournament,

was between the straight knights and the bent,

that is to say Knighthood and Shadow,

and who was to win no one could know.

To get to the final Shadow had now,

dismembered Justice who had called foul.

Went to forums and had a mighty rawr,

They were offered a rematch but threw in the towel,

Knighthood had come through by defeating Bloodlust,

who though taking the first match quickly bit the dust.

Shadow had won first seeding place,

19-2 struck with unholy mace.

Knighthood came in second 16-5,

doing their best to stay alive.

Fearsome omens from regular season,

Shadow swept Knighthood 3-0 with the reason,

that they held many trumps in their arsenal,

and if you listen carefully then I will tell.

Warlocks and assassins they could deploy,

breaking groups, flashing, strangling would annoy,

poor knights of Gareth would have to do without,

ever since Nadrik threw their unworthy out.

Before the tournament would progress,

skaldhood would worse and assassins would best,

tipping against the scales of balance for the 'hood,

who would have to try to beat it as best they could.

Both clans were crafted up the wazoo,

the other clans hadn't picked this clue,

and wondered how they'd been pounded to mash,

by Kuldan's Crafthood with much pinache.

Because of what is mentioned afore,

the odds were against Gareth more,

than the Shadow and Necrucifer's folk,

but in the past they had been known to choke.

Shadow would choose the brackets of war,

and chose fully trained and legion for,

they had more confidence at those levels,

than facing Knighthood's lowbie devils.

They chose this format with the very good reason,

that they'd thrashed the 'hood in regular season.

The first battle would commence upon under the clouds,

The Althainia arena floor with its cheering crowds,

Kaurov brought his smiting ways,

Sesshoumaru would keep them blind for days,

Kalado came to represent the non-human,

Salinor for his praying I'm assumin',

Lanan came along to sing his songs,

with the intention of righting Shadow's wrongs.

The fight would go against these knights,

groups breaking, communication and blue tights.

The evil Shadow would rule this field,

against the good that the 'hood did wield.

The second battle would have to be our best,

for to win it all we'd have to win the rest.

Victis brought his no-nonsense zeal,

Lock'nah's smiting mace they'd feel,

Hataniel cheery voice would be heard,

Bannick brought the Lord's good word.

Old red warhorse Kuldan was there as ever,

because he's proved to be quite clever.

The second fight would confuse poor evil,

breaking groups and mass blinding seemed quite feeble.

When breaking groups they regrouped with haste,

For the assassins blinds had been debased.

Storming forward with this Gareth took the field,

Evil sent to death because they refused to yield.

So it all came down to the final fight,

a marvellous show had been on this night,

Bannick prayed to the Lord above,

Victis wore his smiting glove,

Kaurov would strike the enemy hard,

Lanan sang the songs as good as a bard,

Kalado saluted with toothy grin,

Kuldan would remove the enemy from their sin,

Lock'nah to knock the enemy out of their skin,

Salinor patched them up again and put them back in.

Sesshoumaru stalking evil he would catch,

and Hataniel shouting about how to win the match.

It started slowly with the gearing of charmies,

Shadow's warlocks tossed to create quite an army,

Knighthood would gear elementals with a passion,

wearing the latest crafted gear that was in fashion.

Knighthood would excel from the outset,

despite so many a geared Shadow pet,

Knighthood's teamwork and communication were better,

and individual skill would come to measure,

against the mechanics of their mismatch,

to fight to their potential and victory snatch.

The paladins would smite with their maces in kind,

in an effort to keep all the enemy blind.

Elementals and spirits would be summoned in great number,

sleeping knights from assassin induced slumber,

prayer from the priests would drop and then,

the race was on to get it up again.

Knighthood got prayer back first which proved the pivot,

tables turned on the dark knights, dues I give it,

down to the elements of individual skill,

as Knighthood racked up kill after kill.

Knighthood had totally swept in legion,

making Shadow look like they'd all gone vegan.

And when all the dark knights had all there fallen,

a great cheer went up from the estatic crowd calling,

for the champions to receive their hallowed prize,

so they all filed towards the stage under watchful eyes.

The cup was presented and the audience cheered,

(the evil clans might well have jeered)

as Hataniel and Kuldan lifted it with a mighty shout,

fists pumping air, so excited with the rout,

and presented it to Lady Crown to lift for Knighthood,

another for the museum trophy case please if you would.

The first clan to raise the cup high thrice,

a mighty achievement with the restriction price,

for Raije's staples Knighthood cannot employ,

what other clans have luxury to deploy.

Then magical fireworks was sent to the sky,

blue and white exploding up rather high,

Althainia in our honour a party threw,

So Knighthood's city could say thank you.

Lament for Lady Arminus

by Honoria dePayens

A lady of the keep is she, brave and strong and true.

Off she went to do great deeds, yet something was askew

She disappeared one wint'ry eve, with nary farewell said

And left her lord to wonder if she was still alive or dead.

Refrain: Oh, Lady Arminus, have you come to pain?

Shall we ever find you safe and well?

or ne'er see you again.?

The squires and the pages all follow path and stream

They hunt from cliff to furrow, pause not to sleep nor dream.

Has the virtuous lady fallen under vile spell?

Will she be found standing right or lie where demons dwell?

Refrain: Oh, Lady Arminus, have you come to pain?

Shall we ever find you safe and well?

or ne'er see you again.?

Her good lord mourns sorrow borne on rivers of his tears

He lights the chamber lantern still, exile in his fears.

The lady's mem'ry is strong, her charges grieving wait

Upon the battlement they stand minding the main gate.

Refrain: Oh, Lady Arminus, have you come to pain?

Shall we ever find you safe and well?

or ne'er see you again.?

Oh, Lady Arminus, have you come to pain?

We shall name you in our prayers

'til we see you again.

The Secret in the Forest

by Honoria dePayens

There's a secret in the forest

what, I cannot say

But starry skies and fireflies

are lighting me the way.

There are footsteps in the forest

whose, I cannot see

gardenia scent and grasses bent

all guide me to this tree.

Hush, hush

take silent breath

sigh the evening breeze.

Soft touch

upon my lips

kiss the dew, you please.

My heart beats in the forest

why, I shall not tell

but daylight done and twilight come

will hide it very well.

I shall stay within the forest

til the night is spent

with secret wound and gently bound

here to lie content.

Hush, hush

take silent breath

sigh the evening breeze.

Soft touch

upon my lips

kiss the dew, you please.

Hush, hush

take silent breath

sigh the evening breeze.

Soft touch

upon my lips

kiss the dew, released.

Lo, The River Flows Away

by Honoria dePayens

Canopy of leafless branch,

None to catch the rain,

Cold and mist upon my face,

Darkness found again.

Hold the withered leaf tight by,

Pass to naiad hand,

Flit she waters surface close,

Yet unmotioned stand.

Lo, the river flows away,

The river flows away.

Rushing to its journeys end

The river flows away.

Here to slumber for a while,

Find the dream within,

Warm beneath the dappled sun,

Search for dew again.

Gentle now the silent still,

Touch the ripple close,

Fain embrace yon kelpie head,

Slender throat expose.

Lo, the river flows away,

The river flows away.

Rushing to its journeys end

The river flows away.

Lo, the river flows away

The river flows away

Find it at its journeys end

Before it flows away.

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Carnic: Lore of the Guardians: The Death of Dartaynian.

Tue Dec 16 06:13:19 2008

To: Gwaine Salinor Mercerion Anysse Knighthood

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Here is the little tale of the Knights of Gareth, first told by the

Knight Sir Carnic Caethan. Then he was just a Squire of the Keep, no older

than his 21 young years.

The young Squire lived in tumultuous times. The Dark God sent upon the land

of Algoron his son of Darkness, in the form of a fiery beast who called

himself Dartaynian. This fiery behemoths plagued the lands of Algoron,

setting peaceful forests ablaze and leaving towns razing in their wake. Day

and night he taunted the Light, asking for one who could face his volcanic

wrath.

On that fateful day in the life of the young Squire, he was ambushed by this

fire giant Dartaynian at the bindstone east of the Keep. Taken by surprise,

the Squire, trained as a Crusader was quickly beaten to the ground. Taking

up his aegis, Carnic shielded himself from the flames of Dartaynian and fled

to regain his composure. Calling his charger after him with a sharp

whistle, the Squire rode eastwards toward the city of New Thalos.

Dartaynian kept in relentless pursuit. This young human, easy bounty for

the fiery demi-god.

Booming laughter rang in his ear as the Squire tried to shake off

Dartaynian. No, he thought to himself, cowardice was not what his mentor,

the Crusader of yinnae heritage, the Sentinel of Father Austinian Thrakhath

has taught him. Muttering a quick prayer, he took up the icy shaft of his

crystal halberd and tugged sharply upon the reins of his charger. Turning

to face the fiery foe, he levelled his halberd and pulled down the visor of

his helm.

Perhaps even Dartaynian was surprised to see this lone Knight stand his

ground to battle. Charging forward Carnic stuck his halberd into the

giant's side, drawing a roar of pain and rage. Swinging his polearm in

retaliation, the fire attempted to unhorse his foe in one swift blow. The

Squire met the blow full on with his shield, shockwaves of pain and an

ensuing numbness shot up his arm as he was nearly knocked clean off his

mount. He dug his heel into the side of his charger as he galloped away

just in time, the second blow of Dartaynian's polearm digging deep into the

dirt, a swipe which would almost definitely split the skull of the Squire.

Help was near, he knew it. The Sentinel Thrakhath was too on duty and he

could not be far away. The Loremaster Sehvelarious too was in the Keep when

the Squire left for his patrol. He summoned a new burst of courage as he

parried the next attack. The young Crusader knew he was not yet strong

enough to battle Dartaynian alone and hope to walk away alive. Carnic

steered his charger toward the Althainian City, for he knew that the nearer

he was to Gareth Keep, the more likely the Sentinel and Loremaster will be

alerted of the battle.

The beast of flames pursued the Squire into the Mountains north of the city.

Surely Carnic could not hold on for much longer? The young Squire was on

the verge of giving up, his arms aching from the sheer strength of the

hulking giant. But praises be to the Lord Nadrik, for at that critical

moment, the Squire heard the sound of galloping hooves in the distance. The

Sentinel had to be near.

From the westerly direction that lead to the Keep he knew as home appeared

the form of a Knight clad in shining silver armour, atop a pure white

charger. "Take heart, young one!" Was the cry, the voice unmistakably that

one the yinnae Thrakhath. Wielding a halberd in his left, the Sentinel

parried the swing aimed for the Squire's head, and with a loud cry swung

Revelation, his trusty weapon with his right. Dartaynian roared in anguish

as the energy of the magical polearm Revelation tore into his body.

Then came the Loremaster, versed in song and tales but not one to shy

away from a good fight, swinging a massive roundhouse punch that floored the

fiery beast. Dartaynian, for the first time betraying fear in his eyes

scrambled to escape. He was halted mid-stride by the charge of Sentinel

Thrakhath and his young protege Carnic. His attempts to escape by means of

magical transportation prevented as his incantation was abruptly stopped by

yet another massive punch from the Loremaster.

The noise of battle silenced and the heat of Dartaynian's flames

extinguished as the Sentinel drove Revelation into the heart of the defeated

godkin. His essence evaporated into the air as his lifeforce left him,

never to return to plague the peace of Algoron again.

The Sentinel Thrakhath turned to nod approvingly at his Squire, well pleased

with his bravery and horsemanship. But the Sentinel's grim eyes spoke one

message. "The battle is won, but the war is far from over."

*In Commemoration of the Library's Grand Opening*

Carnic Caethan

Lieutenant of the Shield.

Crusader of Nadrik

Cardinal Bolter MacLeod's Last Battle

By Faelinda Amaranth of Gareth's Keep

The battle for the first shard had been lost.

So many dishonorable deeds had been employed,

That Bolter shook his head in shame

More than a little annoyed.

The God of Honor, who he sought to rescue

Would surely be disappointed today.

Death before dishonor had not been lived,

Nadrik's tenets had not been obeyed.

And so Bolter sought an honorable duel.

The King of Darkonin to defeat.

Armored only by the virtue of his faith

In battle they did meet.

Without his physical armors on,

The King's axes soon made an end.

Bolter's faith against the axe strokes,

Did little to defend.

But up in the heavens, with Bolter's last breath

An angel of power was born.

While here on the earth those that he'd left

Could only see reasons to mourn.

When Bolter MacLeod returns to this earth,

As part of a glorious plan.

He will be so much stronger and able to do

Far more than a mere mortal man.

Food vs. Furniture

One day I was minding my business, when a white dragon had the gall to ask

me to send out the then Squire, Lady Faelinda, because it was hungry and

wanted a snack. Here is the resulting poem she wrote, as, with some irony,

the dragon was hosting a poetry contest at the time.

- Lorekeeper Datai d'Aggravaine

Oh brave dragon, Tikhondrius,

Why do you speak to your food?

I cannot imagine a thing

Resulting from this that is good.

The Knights in the Keep

Are steadfast in their ways

Knowing exactly where they're going,

While you seem lost in a haze.

In reality, there are times

That some of us do

Dream of white dragonskin pelts

To cover our bare pews.

All tanned so soft and padded,

With nary a scale in sight,

(Those scales put to good use

As shields to protect our Knights.)

And your claws resharpened,

Bestowed with blessings holy.

Held by Knights determined

Of evil, to set the world free.

And so you are seeing

This is a food - furniture war.

One in which you are outnumbered.

One in which we shall go far.

- Lady Faelinda Draven

Charge of the Chocobo

With a tickle in my nose,

I awoke from my repose,

Stiff from my trusty pew,

I had an unusual view,

Our proud Yinnae astride,

Not his normal ride,

My bloodshot eyes a blinkin

I asked taking Branzol aside,

"Is that a giant chicken?"

Chorus:

"Fie Fie!" The Evil Doer did cry,

"I shant do it ever again!"

"Keep it away, Good wins the day!"

For into battle the Lance did fly,

Leading the charge a chocobo and Yinn.

Love's Silver Wings

Written in honor of the wedding of Sir Branzol Snowdragon and Lady Corszana.

Silver wings in the moonlit night

filled by the stars glittering white

Snowfields sparkling smooth and pure

souls with honor's strength they endure

As one to face with magic's song

sung by true love's spell for life long

Through winter's dark, sorrow and cold

warmed by joy that dear hearts behold

Girded by honorable knight

strong the silver wings of love's height.

- Dame Datai Amberillo, Lorekeeper

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Datai: Gambling for Keeps

Wed Jun 30 02:44:15 2010

To: Knighthood all

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Gambling is sort of one of those things that no one thinks is a big sin

or anything till you start to loose a lot. Once you've managed to make a

complete fool of yourself and dug yourself into a hole, all of the sudden

the risks you took look idiotic instead of inspired. People start to look

at you funny, stop talking when you enter the room, and stop inviting you

over. All this because sometimes some people have a difficult time

overseeing a good risk reward system for their lives.

I mention this because I may have a gambling problem. I know this comes as

a huge surprise, as I pointedly avoid cards, betting, or dice because I

recognize my inability to judge odds and figure out the appropriate amount

of risk versus the potential for reward. It's just that it involves a lot

of math sometimes, and I really can't be bothered doing that sort of thing.

I am a Knight, after all, a Dame of action, and sitting down and doing

arithmetic at a crucial moment is simply out of the question.

This all goes back to over a decade ago to when I was a young knight. At

some point the High Priest of Althainia decided to start offering

adventurers a bet: if they could slay a whole bunch of monsters without

dying, he'd gift them with some sort of magical power or physical

improvement. A special merit. This bet proved to be very popular at the

time, and many famous adventurers took the High Priest up on it. One of

which was Rhea Shalonost who I actually was an acquaintance with on the

account of my lover, Sir Eyrk, had negotiated her returning all empowered

polearms and staves that she disarmed into her own hands to he and myself.

She completed the bet without much trouble, and the High Priest declared her

to be a "light sleeper" which is terribly ironic since she was a vampire.

I've never been one to shirk away from anything that is the height of elven

fashion, so I took the High Priest up on his bet as well. Now, you might

say, "Datai, don't you think making a bet with a guy who constantly 'looses'

the treasures of the crown and runs a puppy mill on some nebulous and vague

promise of questionable power just the sort of thing a Knight shouldn't be

doing?" And to that I'd have to say that the risk reward calculations for

such a conundrum falls into higher math that they only teach in the

Conclave, and so I never really had the chance to properly consider the

probable outcomes to this bet.

Staying alive in the field was never a huge problem for me all those years

ago, so the slow rate of progress on this quest never worried me too much.

Unfortunately with my return to duty these past few months, I've come to

appreciate some of the new death traps that now grace the realm.

The polite term for them is Keeps. However this is a misnomer as they are

never for keeps. They are under siege more frequently than a half elf

dancer in the White Sands, and unfortunately my virtuous and steadfast

comrades are constantly seduced by their siren song. The call to mount the

challenges within and plant their flag of victory is utterly irresistible by

the most noble and pious knights. Unfortunately, congruent with the

building of these Keeps, a use for bards in battle has been discovered.

Normally in the face of any dangerous action or quest my comrades are

content to leave me behind in the altar room, waving a kerchief and telling

them to pick up some take out from the Bouncing Bugbear while they are out.

However, with a keep, one wishes to have someone along who knows how to sing

"Song of Peace." Thus my dreams of staying behind, waving, and yelling out,

"Have fun storming the castle!" are never going to be fulfilled.

Now, Kadiya must be rolling in Her grave to hear how this lovely and

gentle psalm is being abused. Guards and the Lord are momentarily placated

so that everyone can instead of being peaceful and have a picnic, choose a

new, higher priority to kill target, and commence killing them. Thus my

comrades now take me along on nearly every dangerous keep assault they can.

After all, it is perfectly safe with me along to sing song of peace.

Providing I can reach the enemy in one piece to sing it.

All of the sudden, living until the next monster slaying session for my bet

got a whole lot harder. This is coupled with the fact that my comrades are

always more eager to capture dangerously guarded keeps with me around. They

seem to feel safer, and that the risk reward calculations are all in line.

My record with the High Priest suggests otherwise for me.

Now, with enough knights and allies along, at least things can go quickly

and painfully. They seem pretty shy about going into these horrible

situations with less than five or six knights, so I was feeling pretty safe

the other evening sitting around with Lord Gwaine, Sir Akasi, Sir Acre and

Lady Anysse. The only Keep in the hands of the enemy was the mighty Citadel

which is such a bother to take that usually we turn a blind eye to it and

pretend it isn't there.

Unfortunately Paladins tend to be really bad at that kind of thing. They

are also pretty bad with white lies too. You should never ask them what

they think of the latest fashion you brought home from Shalonesti. No

sooner had I started to relax with my holy beer did Sir Acre mention the

word, "keep."

Keep apparently is a magical word, as it made the General of the Shield

vanish. Lady Anysse is nobody's fool, and being a highly educated

enchantress is very good at calculating odds and risk reward. Unfortunately

that left me behind with three paladins. Three paladins and a bard are very

bad at calculating these sorts of things. Though I did have a nagging

feeling it was a bad idea, and voiced it, constantly, unendingly, through

out the entire adventure; I was soundly outvoted by the paladin majority.

I thought I was off the hook as the Citadel is so hated a Keep that no one

among the three Knights really knew exactly where it was. However those

sorts of details are not the sort of thing that ever deters a paladin on a

quest. Certainly not three paladins. Though not the sort of lance leaders

who know where a keep is, and how to assault it, Sir Acre is the bookish

sort of paladin that can read a map and follow instructions. He found some

old battle plans of our former Lance General Thrakhath in our library, and

now thusly armed with a book and map, we set off on high adventure in the

frozen north.

As the three of them tried to interpret the map, I knew my odds of survival

were slim. Maybe if Sir Rithor, Lord of the Lance, had been one of the

three paladins I might have had a chance. Lord Rithor has never lost me in

a Keep, ever, and his record for returning the bard home safely is unmatched

by any paladin of the Knighthood. Lord Gwaine's record on the other hand is

terrible. In fact I'm not convinced that he's really a paladin at all, but

suspect he's still an assassin considering how often he gets me killed. I

was already composing my explanations to the High Priest as to how exactly I

was killed by my ex-assassin ex-boyfriend while assaulting a keep with three

paladins who had no idea where they were going or what they were doing and

why it shouldn't count against my progress on my bet with him.

Somehow, though, much like the legendary tortoise, they crept through the

Keep. Dutifully, in true paladin fashion, they threw themselves in harms

way and killed every guard in their path that challenged them. Normally in

Keeps everyone runs around like idiots trying to sneak past the guards, and

it is in that fray and fracas that I tend to get lost. I have to say, I've

never minded a paladin's penchant to taking things slow, and I'll do just

about anything paladin style. Especially with a paladin.

Slowly we ground our way to the pinnacle. Where at my comrades decided we

aught rest, and rebless our armors. Stripping and sleeping with me is

pretty much the best idea those three knights had ever come up with, and I

gleefully agreed to that plan. Icewall is very cold, and they kept me very

safe and warm in that tower.

Now, what is tragic here is at the very climax of our journey, at this point

of ecstasy where for a moment victory was surely in my grasp; somehow it was

dashed from my hands in the final charge to the portal. I don't quite know

what happened, but it may have been some sort of divine retribution for the

previous paragraph. I blacked out. Completely. The spark that keeps me

moving was gone. I was completely without power to move.

I came to to a very familiar sight after a Keep assault, however. I was in

the altar room, and somewhat see through. And I don't mean my blouse. I

mean I looked like one the spirits I summon to prevent situations like that.

This makes me wonder if in this state if it would be possible for me to

summon myself. While I sat there flummoxed as to how I'd somehow snatched

defeat from the jaws of victory, my three companions mounted our flag upon

the Citadel and rode home.

While rightly quite impressed with their victory, the fact they had somehow

lost the bard did weigh heavily on their paladin hearts. And that was a

state of being I was entirely willing to take advantage of. Paladins have a

hard time with guilt. They seem to feel a lot of it, which is strange

considering they typically lead far purer and more goodly lives than the

rest of us. Particularly people like me who are more than willing to play

this for all it is worth.

So the rest of the eve I had the pleasure of Sir Acre St John feeding me

grapes while listening to Lord Gwaine go on and on about how they couldn't

have done it without me. It was nice of him to try to reassure me that I was

more than just moral support, however, they had technically pretty much taken

the Keep without any aid from me. The fact that they would have never gotten

the stupid idea into their head and dared do it without me there pretty much

defines what moral support is. However, I let that detail slide, and tried

to focus on enjoying the flattery. Something that rarely anyone hears from

Lord Gwaine.

Since ruining my bet with the High Priest, they have dutifully been

protecting me everywhere I go. Escorting me night and day to slay all those

terrible monsters for me. Because of this, my endless quest is nearly at an

end, and that leaves me to consider a small problem:

I rather enjoy their company. I mean, sure, they are heroic, knightly,

idiots and tend to get me killed, but it's been nice spending all the time

out with them battling monsters. If my endless quest were to come to an

end, then what excuse would I have for getting a paladin alone? It is no

wonder I have no idea how to figure out what is proper risk versus reward.

However, any time Sir Acre wants to assault Gareth Keep, and take me as his

prize; I'm pretty sure that is one Keep adventure that will be well worth

it. And I'm not going to sing "Song of Peace" to make the paladins stop.

Now that's a gamble I can't loose.

The end.. or is it? Silly endless quest...

Kylore Tygarst's Quest for The Sword of Truth

To those that it may concern,

Upon hearing the task set before me, I was somewhat hesitant about

completing it. I knew of the location of the sword, as it is a place that I

have heard much about. The only problem that I was faced with, however, was

that Sir Croyden would not simply just part with his sword, and my immediate

sentiments were that I did not wish to slay the Lord for a trinket such as

the Sword.

I spoke to General Thorne first about my hesitation, but he quickly swayed

my misgivings, indicating that an honorable duel with the Lord would be

acceptable in this instance, and that there was no other way than to fight

to the death for the Sword.

I will say that my initial tactics went against seeking the death of Lord

Croyden. Once I traveled to Old Gareth, I made my way into the Keep,

speaking to a few of the squires on the way as to where I could find the

Lord. And once I did locate him, I saw that he did, in fact, wield the

Sword of Truth.

When we began fighting, his strength and abilities with magic far surpassed

my own. I managed to age him considerably with a withering hex, followed by

a case of leprosy. I then sought to blind him, using the first two spells

as a means to limit the amount of damage he was able to do to me with the

sword. Striking the Lord with blindness was not an easy feat, as it took me

quite considerably a much longer time than my first maledictions. My

efforts proved fruitful, however, and I did strike him with a blindness.

It is at this point that I managed to exit the room we were in, and then

quickly removed a bear hide from one of my pouches. Invoking the spirit of

the bear, I was able to take its form, moving back into combat with the

Lord. At this point, I attempted to disarm the Lord, still intent on

retrieving the weapon without having to land a killing blow. Once I did

disarm him, however, he managed to pick up the sword, even though I had

blinded him with my magic.

Realizing that I did not have much else of a choice, I continued to fight

him as a bear, using the strength and formidable weapons that come with such

a gift. The Lord did fall, and it is at this point that I reverted back to

myself, picking up the sword that now lay motionless on the ground.

It was at this point, as I was leaving the Keep, that I managed to lose my

way, as the structure of that Keep is vastly different than out own. I

managed to find myself within a room that is very similar to our own portal

room. A mage greeted me, clad in ivory robes, telling me that the portals

were not yet done. I turned to leave, but I paused a moment, as my

abilities as a Shaman grant me the power to see the souls of those around

me. This mage was clearly not of the White Tower, for his soul was encased

in a red, malevolent aura.

I took the mage off guard, raising my spear and engaging him in combat. My

intentions were to rid the Keep of this false magi, in order to make up for

the fact that I was forced to slay the Lord Croyden. While, yes, this is an

action that one of the Balance might pursue, I thought it prudent to rid the

Old Keep of the evil within. The Mage did fall to my claws again, as I took

the form of the bear to finish the job.

It was at this point that, as my normal self, I found a piece of parchment

by the mage's body, detailing an attempt to change the future in favor of

the Darkness. I sighed briefly to myself, before alerting the Keep to the

plans of the Magi and then departing to return here, to our home.

I have recovered the sword, as was instructed of me, and I hope that it is

sufficient enough, and that I have managed to do it in a way befitting one

of our Order.

-- Squire Kylore Tygarst

A Song of Knightly Romance

For Sir Regus and Lady Faelinda Draven

Many are the love songs of Knighthood,

Love in evil's very face, dare we would,

Honor's way followed to court,

True the test of love's strength,

Put aside desire to foolishly cavort,

To remain true forever's length,

To wait to prove what love does require,

Nadrik's bidding takes Knights far away,

To finish the trials of a squire,

In all tests these hearts did not stray,

Though age and time may try,

Doubt seeking to replace beside,

Steady hearts apart will not pry,

Patient till together they may ride,

Ever steadfast in love,

A Knight guardian of the heart,

Inspired and blessed from above,

Love remains even when part,

Two knights to give strength for Good,

Shielding each other as love should.

- Lady Datai d'Aggravaine, Lorekeeper of Knighthood

Sir Branzol the Trollslayer

by Sir Kuririn Haraldr

Dark Shades marks victory for light,

Cause our Weaponsmaster chose "fight!"

At Empire's gate and Misery's core,

Branzol surmounted trolling whore.

One from slayers, one from the Horde,

One from his kick, one from the Lord.

Abandoned by friends, fear in the eye,

Orikando and Havarok, were left to die

Conquering Thorn, Gareth did find,

Greystoke n Storm mended their tie

At the Empires gates, Gareth made stand,

Shadowknight, troll, and ruffian oh my!

Dashing a smile, gone in a flash

The Ruffian ran, while the troll tried bash

Sprawled by my fist, Havarok fled

But, Branzols boot met his head.

Oer to Misery, we assault its Lord,

Lord Crown defended gainst the horde.

With virtue strong, Gwaine fought them all

While Miserys conquering led to their fall

Returned to Misery, attacked the beasts,

Turssh escaped and Orikando fled east.

Again! My fists chased the troll but NO!

HIS ray of truth, surmounted the troll.

Alas the story must be complete,

Two dead trolls is quite the feat!

With victory comes reflection,

And with my reflection come suspicion.

Future Squires o Branzols steed,

when turning evil always take heed:

I suspect what Branzol learnt this time

The best way to kill, is to steal mine!

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Kuririn: A lesson on Sacrifice and Greed:The Death of Malucaar

Sat Dec 18 15:57:29 2010

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Stalling his enemies and turning to run,

fighting this Red was never quite fun.

In this month of the Sun, a weakness did show,

leaving Malucaar sprawled right on the floor.

Was it the sting of a war howl, the blind of a smite,

or a strike from a shield that was placed just right?

The weakness would not come from any mortal man,

but, from the Reds mighty hoard and its' weakness within.

General d'Aggravaine looked to slay another Red,

as I gated in and howled at its head!

Colonel Snowdragon, Meroveus, and Valentin came too

and with some words from the squire, the red could not move.

The virtue of sacrifice, this Red did not heed

and focused his attention on plundering greed.

His hoard or his life, what a decision to fight.

Dropping his treasure he hoped to take flight.

But, leaving his wealth he didn't much like,

So, Colonel Snowdragon dealt the last great strike!

A knight forfeits everything for the one true war,

while the Red's foolishness only seeks more.

Perhaps the greatest victory wasn't the slaying,

but, the Red and its wealth finally separating.

Take lesson from the virtues and your life won't end,

trying to determine "my life or my gems?"

Kantilles Bless,

Haraldr

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Datai: The Joust in Nadrik's Honor

Sat Apr 2 22:09:32 2011

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Children of Good gathered all week long,

To celebrate our Gods in deed and song,

The final event on the final day,

A joust to celebrate Nadrik's way,

Good hearts from the clans found,

The kingdoms, eager to go a round,

From Gareth's I sent a paladin, new,

Sir Branzol's steed knew what to do,

Jousting, a contest Honor demands,

Besides, his Silver was in the stands,

To start the show Emperor and son,

Gareth's veteran general, Mercerion,

Elder Mamoritai charged true,

Demonstrated to Aerahan what to do,

Nadrik's other Emperor, hurrah!

Domacius the mighty minotaur met Jorah,

Slayer used to taking down things large,

Unhorsed Raij'Wi on the third charge,

From the Wrath was Reggie next,

Pitted against paladin, he was vexed,

Miniature pony gave it his all,

Sir Branzol struck him, though target small,

Mighty Martens mino-mage and blue ox,

Sent Kinear of Althainia to sway and rock,

Thus with their graceful salute,

Ended the first round of the tribute,

Emperor Mercerion did ride again,

This time Slayer Jorah schooled him!

With a single charge and lance,

Emperor wished he still had metal pants,

Now Sir Branzol faced the Ox,

Took a hit that splintered into our box,

Charged and returned as good as he got,

On the last pass, into the air Martens shot,

The field narrowed to the last two,

Knights to meet and prove causes true,

Slayer Jorah Martell of Crimson,

To meet Sir Branzol Snowdragon,

Dragonslayer and Silver's son,

Glory and honor for Nadrik to be won,

Silver Lady Kerrisacza roared,

And Sir Branzol neatly scored,

Next pass Jorah struck, returned,

With suspense the fans churned,

The final charge and heroic clash,

Sir Branzol's lance scored in a flash,

Paladin championed his Silver Lady,

What a delight for Nadrik to see,

Honor guided his lance, Kantilles his eye,

A wonderful ending, none could deny,

Celebrated the jubilant throng,

Honorable sport remembered in song!

- Lady Datai d'Aggravaine, Lorekeeper of Knighthood

Meroveus: Recounting the Del'Nichi Cup

Sun Mar 27 21:23:55 2011

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The following is a poetic account of the fight of Colonel Branzol

Snowdragon and Sir Aerahan Mamoritai against Bodrum and Engyrr of the

Conclave. A classic rhyming scheme is used, and could have been extended to

chronicle the entirety of the event.

A Del'Nichi cried out to all the land,

'Del'Nichi Cup is on, so come on down,

and make your way through Althainia town

into the gladiator league's fine stands!'

A tournament which promised to be grand

was underway, with people from all 'round

the world, from vagabonds to Crowns,

to Branzol, Aerahan, and their Knightly fans.

Our Knights rode out to meet Bodrum the Black

and with him, Engyrr, the Conclave's dumb brute

against whom valiantly our Knights fought.

Both sides pressed hard, and each fought harder back;

each offensive charge was met with a rebuke,

'till glory, with Knightly lives, Conclave had bought

and won.

For the enjoyment of the Keep,

Meroveus Greyhawk,

Knight of the Shield

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Datai: The Day the Warpstones Died

Thu May 19 18:39:38 2011

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The Day the Warpstones Died

(or, why you should make sure Lady Faelinda has

plenty of flowers and chocolates when she visits)

Here I will tell of a Shield Maiden,

An enchantress who became Lady Draven,

Not the sort to take the field,

But helpful magics from her we wield,

Her humble service to the Keep,

A rock garden of stones to reap,

Safely we travel about the lands,

From Icewall to desert sands,

This stone service taken for granite,

Not a single one left in the pit!

Where oh where our sweet Lady?

To rescue us from this calamity!

Every chore no matter how small,

Is very important to us all,

Each of us a small part to holding the line,

In this way camaraderie does define.

Siccara bless,

Lady Datai d'Aggravaine, Lorekeeper of Knighthood

ps: Lady Faelinda, its not just the warpstones I miss!

A Page Went Walking

By Faelinda Draven

A page went walking

To the racks

Intent upon some

Enemy tracks.

The stone arrangement

Was divine,

Not one stone was

Out of line.

So he, in his

Preoccupied state,

Made one rather

Serious mistake.

He plucked a stone

From the bottom rack.

It certainly stopped

Him in his tracks.

For he had not previously

Considered at all

That the pile of stones

Might on him fall.

The stack of stones

Came tumbling down

Out of the rack

Onto the ground.

And had it not been

For his arcanium plate,

That page would have made

A fatal mistake.

Fortunately this story

Has a happy end.

Magically back to the racks,

Mages did the stones send.

And the page learned something

From the glittering spread,

Take stones from the top

When they're gravity fed.

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Reginoldo: The Tale of My Journey to the Acrid Tunnels

Thu Mar 15 22:41:27 2012

To: Knighthood Chretien Rithor Gwaine Datai

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Now it had been a long time since I had ventured to the tunnels. Since

my time with the Slayers, actually. An incident transpired where I vowed

never to return. So after reading the task before me I was both torn and

more than frustrated. The knight needed to be return, but my own personal

reasons prevented me for a time from obtaining my goal. I waged a mental

battle with what to do, finally deciding I went venture forth, after all, I

came to Gareth to start a new life.

The tunnels were hot and humid, the stench of acid burning my nose with

every breath as I made my way through. I had a plan, I would defeat the

Great Wyrm first, how I would do this I wasn't quite sure. My first thought

was use my flails to sting it, perhaps making its claws a bit delayed as it

saps strength, then I would switch to a spear and shield, impaling it over

and over! While this strategy proved to work, it seemed like hours were

passing as I would have to stop to recover my strength. The battle waged on

and I was growing more frustrated by the moment, the wyrm simply wasn't

falling fast enough. It's acid breath far more devastating than it's actual

claws. So finally I approached Roupert who was just bored enough to assist

me. The fake illness worked wonders on the wyrm, and thanks to the aid of a

wildebeast I was able to charge the wyrm into submission! Now, it was not

fast by any means but much faster that it was before.

Returning to the keep I presented the scale of the wyrm to Lady Datai, she

seemed pleased that I had done that much. However I knew that was only half

the battle, I still had to find the body of the knight that was lost. So

after tending to my wounds I set back out. I approached the bugbear only to

have them resist me entering the tunnels again. So I began to protect

myself properly with spells, out of no where the Blue known as Rimunath

swoops in. His tail thrashing me about, the guards pushing me back from the

instance, I thought I was a goner! Luckily enough I dodge one final blow

from his tail, escape was mine... Sort of, Lady Datai answered my call

quickly and I stepped through the gate she had created.

Giving things time to calm down around the tunnels it was a while before I

struck out again, the coast was clear as I approached the bugbear once

again. I fell them quickly as I knew time was drawing near, the acid

continued to burn my nostrils as I searched the tunnels carefully. I could

not find the body anywhere. My mind began to wander if Chretien had been

given wrong information as I took a wrong turn. Another dragon here,

clawing at my armor out of no where. A slight grin parted my lips as I

looked past him, back against the far wall was the body of the knight. I

did what I had to, and in no time this wyrm was laying on the ground before

me.

I approached the body, a slight frown on my lips as I noticed another smell,

the knight had been here a while, his body already beginning to decompose.

I took what I had and wrapped his body, I hoisted him up on my shoulders and

carried it from the tunnels, back to our Keep. He will soon find his

resting place, and perhaps his soul may finally pass onto the next life.

This is my tale!

Squire Reginoldo Arminus

Power or Paladin?

A song based upon the events that unfolded around Tue Jun 22 18:38:56 2021.

A grand day in the Keep,

A new paladin to be evil's defeat.

Boss had us all circle 'round,

In the chapel he declared worthy found:

Sir Alestian A. Adinell,

A name that is a handful.

Gave this bard his cash on hand,

At O'Shannahan's blessing became something grand.

Paladin and patron of the arts.

On the battlefield all kinds of smarts.

Took keeps, slew more than one vampire.

All while in Shokonese attire.

Did good deeds large and small,

By Nadrik, he had it all!

I set to record his glory in song,

What could possibly go wrong?

Seeking perfection is something to aspire,

Who could predict what would transpire?

Small chink in the armor, a vague regret,

Kantilles, fickle, or did He suspect?

A weakness exposed in Alestian,

For magical perfection he did retrain.

"Integrity; what you do when nobody sees."

In small hours, a strange plan was seized,

Pixie mage, Lei'raylat of the White,

Took pity on the new paladin's plight.

Offered Kantilles' secrets for an hour,

To grant the paladin more magic power.

Nevermind the Conclave's perennial war,

Over the secrets of this magic lore.

Quietly under the moons the deed done,

Kantilles' power questionably won.

Boss none the wiser come day,

Blessed and sent the magic paladin on his way,

Old Nadrik always knows,

If you don't come in smellin' like rose.

Rats, too, in the night have eyes,

And happy to expose this surprise:

Paladin hero,

To absolute zero.

All in mere hours,

Before we changed the chapel flowers.

Paladin undone,

With just a small chink, evil had overcome.

There is a deity who says to take all, in any way gain,

Over evil and black magic She does reign.

Promises of perfect power,

Inside you will devour,

What seemed perfect was not,

The perfection Nadrik sought.

The spiral of disappointment and shame,

No one saw Alestian again.

Pursuit of self perfection is good,

How we do it is our meta in the 'hood.

By Dame Nida al-Ma'an Akhdar, Shield