The Quest

[DoS Archive]

Date: 12/17/97 6:35 AM Pacific Daylight Time
From: Sir Kalath

Arean had ridden hard that day, the highland plains of the east he crossed falling before him as a blur as his warhorse * Sergeant * pounded through the fields under the RhyDin sun, chewing up dirt and miles with his mighty, untiring hoofs. Arean's black and gold pennon verily whistled through the air as it whipped through the air on the tip of his mounted lance.
The field broke, a road crossing it, and without urge from Arean, Sergeant took the turn, happily hitting the wide dirt track in favor of the open field, and stretching his mighty legs out in a glorious, mile eating stretch. Arean merely smiled behind his closed visor and let the enthusiast run for a bit.
As the sun reached it zenith in the crisp RhyDin air, Arean slowed Sergeant, the track they were on coming towards a bridge, and Arean, always wary, decided a more prudent pace would be good in this, as all others, the most unknown of lands.
As he neared the bridge, a mounted man, garbed in a strange leaf mail armor and bearing a long , wicked spear, and a round shield, road out into the road. His horse blocking the entry to the bridge, and the look on his face not promising good intent.
Arean reigned Sergeant in, the horse rolling its eyes at him in a *What?? Your gonna stop for this? * expression. Arean then surveyed the terrain quickly, and judging this man to be alone he snapped his visor up and addressed the warrior.
" Couldst thou, prithee, enlighten me unto your most unseemingly blockading of my path my lord? " His face scaryily devoid of anything resembling good sense and his blue eyes peering directly into the mans own.
" This be my bridge, ya mush brained lackey, and if'n ye dunna pay the toll, I'll skewer ye and take yer horse. " The man replied, pointing the tip of his spear at Sergeant.
Arean drew the reigns up as Sergeant tensed, the horse sensing the spear as a threat and his instincts responding to run the man down.
" Surely, good sir, as thee and I know, that foreasmuch as the good clean air and the light of the sun which doth shine upon us is, the king's highway doth be free of tariff's and tolls." Arean said, attempting, with what little thought he had, to reason with the man.
" I be a Warlord of the Duel of Swords, I dunna take orders from anna king, now pay and pass or bleed and die ya flowery mouthed coward, I dunna care which ye do."
" Surely sir, even in my limited understanding of this land, thou canst not be the flower of thy tutledge nor the paramount example of the honor of this thing thou callst the * Duel of Swords *, I find your manner offensive and thy words to be chafesome upon my ears, surely thou arenst not such a highly decorated warrior as you speak, but nay, I say thou art but a lowly cur, kicked oftentimes by his betters for such dishonorable words and
actions. "
The man scrunched up his face, his ears still trying to decipher Arean's words, he then became angry and leveled his spear.
" I'ma gonna give ya one more chance, and if'n ye dunna turn up yer purse, I'll be decorating this here field with yer innards. "
Arean calmly unbuckled his gauntlet and stared the man down for but a moment.
" I warn thee sir, I am Sir Arean Faneryl Kalath. And surely as I am the highest knight on life I tell thee now, thou shalt have no gold this day. "
Then with a mighty snap of his arm, he launched the metal gauntlet across the field, catching the man full in the face. The warrior reeled, cursing loudly and came back up spitting blood and teeth.
" I challenge thee, sir. " Arean said, drawing his lance from its sheath on his saddle and leveling it. " If thou wouldst have my gold, then thou shall take it from my cold, stiff corpse, foreasmuch as I, the paramount knight in the world am concerned, thou, and all that bear thy title verily needs chastisment, for thou hast dishonored it overmuch. Prepare thyself, worthless warlord, and prepare to meet your better. "
Arean then snapped down his visor, Sergeant was trembling with an almost fey energy beneath him, and pawed a massive hoof at the dirt, waiting for the nudge that would set him flying into battle. Arean waited, and as the man leveled his spear and set his horse into motion, he nudged Sergeant lightly with one heel, and the horse exploded forward.
The warrior was shouting curses, the wind carrying them to Arean as the distance closed between them both, then, with a minute flick of his wrist, he turned the incoming spear away, and then slammed his lance dead center into his opponents shield. The lance exploded into a haze of splinters and the warrior flew from the back of his horse, flying through the air near twenty feet and landing hard on his back.
The knight dismounted, his greeved boots jingling as his feet hit the cold turf, and with a practiced ease he drew his broadsword and walked to his opponent, who was shakily gaining his feet, a wicked axe in his hand as his angry eyes watched the knight approach.
Arean waded in quickly, raising his black and gold shield high to take an incoming high cut from his opponent, the axe clanged and carreened off, and with little effort, Arean brought his blade crashing down across the warriors left leg, bringing a scream and a spurt of blood as the massive broadsword bit in deeply and the warrior tumbled down to the turf, a hand clutching his wound.
" Mercy!!! Good Knight!!! Please!! " He screamed as blood welled out from between his fingers. " I yield to ye sir! Spare me life I pray ye! "
Arean sheathed his blade and stepped back. Constrained by his honor he decided not to chasten the man further.
" Methinks thou shouldst get that wound seen unto, foul braggart, as it would seem thy kind are unused to true battle. " Arean then flipped up his visor and squinted at the horizon. " A boon to thee sir, I grant thee thy life, if thou can get thyself out of these woods afore nightfall and foul wolves and other vile beasts not find thee. But methinks my quest makes a turn here. Couldst thee point myself int he direction of this Duel of Swords?
Methinks mayhaps if thy brothers are like unto to thyself, that myself, my lance and my good right arm have much work afore us."
The warrior raised his arm, pointing shakily to the east and Arean nodded, and mounted Sergeant once more, kicking his heels into his mount and bounding across the bridge towards RhyDin Town.
The warlord grimaced to himself, and tore a strip from his jerkin, binding the wound
his leg and shakily rising.
* Someones be in for alot of trouble * he thought, and groaned, as he saw his horse had ran astray.
It was not a good day to be a bad guy.