He walked across the rickety bridge at the edge of the village and through the woods. After a short distance, the path curved upwards to the right and ran along the edge of a ridge that overlooked Linden.

The keep of Lord Jasper was a very simple structure that he doubted would be able to fend off a rabid rabbit let alone armed men. A crumbling outer wall surrounded a tall stone tower that peaked out above the trees. As per usual, his father’s flag flapped lazily in the breeze. The Blue Gryphon of House Linden stood proudly on a field of white. Every time he saw it Thorn felt a pang of sadness. It was such a good emblem, it deserved to be carried on a banner and be known throughout the land. Instead, his father drank himself into a stupor every day whilst his step-mother spent what little coin they had left in the nearby city of Old Kastador. He trudged up the poorly maintained path and walked through the gate- well there used to be a gate but that got damaged in a storm several years previously and his father had never got around to replacing it. Sat on a stool with his feet up against a stone pillar was the Keep's only guard. Kip was middle-aged with a lazy streak a mile wide, Thorn doubted that the fat coot would be of any use if the Keep were ever being attacked. The only reason the guard was kept on was because Jasper needed a drinking buddy and someone to gamble with. Thorn disliked the man intensely.

“You been beaten up sissy boy?” Kip cackled as he noticed the appearance of his lord’s son.

“Not now Kip, I’m really not in the mood. Is my father awake yet?” Thorn replied testily.

Kip scratched his chin and then his crotch before answering.

“Whereabouts is the sun in the sky?” he asked.

Thorn rolled his eyes.

“It’s high Kip. Real high.”

“Well, if it's directly overhead tis midday so the chances of Lord Jasper being awake is slim. We had a right old skin full last night. I even beat him at cards for once,” Kip said proudly touching the purse tied to his belt.

Thorn shook his head in disgust and walked inside the tower. As usual, the place was dark, the servants that had once kept the lanterns and candles lit having been dismissed long ago. With a sigh, he set about lighting the fireplace that dominated the main chamber and lit a lantern. The fire cast an orange glow over the room and soon warmth began to fill it. Scattered about the floor were empty ale bottles and a tipped over chair. Catching the light was his father’s sword that was on display above the fireplace. Back in the day, Lord Jasper had wielded that blade in numerous wars but now it hung there like some sad relic of a bygone age. The Blue Gryphon of the house of Linden was emblazoned on the sword’s pommel but the blade itself was in dire need of a polish and sharpen. Thorn often dreamed about restoring it to its past glory, but he could never afford the blacksmith’s steep prices. With a reluctant sigh, he climbed the winding staircase to the upper floors of the tower. He emerged onto the second floor where the bedchambers were. His own tiny room was to his right, he’d not slept there for weeks instead favouring the charity of his friend Perci who lived just outside the village on his father’s estate.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door of his father’s bedchamber. No response. Shaking his head, he pulled his arm back and thumped on the solid oak surface three times. He couldn’t help but smile as a cacophony of swearing sounded from within. Without waiting for permission Thorn barged his way into the chamber and strode over to the tightly drawn curtains. He ripped them open, casting the room in dazzlingly bright sunlight. Again, came the swearing.

Stolen story; please report.

“By Danon’s black beard what in the world are you doing you little shit!”

Thorn turned to face his father.

Lord Jasper had been a bear of a man once, but years of heavy drinking had taken a shocking toll on him. Now he was more fat than muscle and his bloated gut made it difficult for him to get to his feet. He wore a dirty robe that barely concealed his manhood and his white hair was wild and filthy. His grey eyes bore into his son, the redness in the whites and dark rings around them suggested that he was probably still intoxicated.

“You asked me to find out whether the ale from Dilar had arrived yet. It hasn’t. Oh, and Perci’s father, Sir Tristan told me to tell you that a Bannerlord might be passing through the village soon.”

Lord Jasper scowled at the news.

“No ale and a Bannerlord arrives in my lands, well what shit news to wake up to. What happened to you boy?” he said as he noticed his son’s bedraggled appearance. “Let me guess. You got your arse kicked again by Ernit didn’t you? Gods boy, you do bring me shame.”

Thorn clenched his jaw at the words. ‘I shame you?’ he thought angrily.

“Did Sir Tristan say who this pompous popinjay is who is travelling through the Weald? Not every day a Bannerlord comes out this way. I wonder why he’s here at all,” Jasper continued, unaware or not caring of the hurt given to his only son.

It was true that the Weald, the county where Linden was located, was one of the more boring parts of the kingdom. Far from the borderlands, there was very little risk of monster attacks or rival realms threatening territory. The most dangerous thing Thorn had encountered was a wolf pack, but they never required anything more than a good hunting.

“Perhaps he’s looking to recruit?” Thorn said with hope in his voice. Now that he thought about it, the arrival of a Bannerlord was exciting. Perhaps he could sneak away and take up the Banner. What adventures he could have!

Jasper snorted and poured himself a mug of water from the jug that stood next to his bed.

“He’d better not be. Harvest time is coming, and I’ll not let some upstart adventurer take away labourers before then. And take that look off your face lad, you can’t go. By Estran’s cock, you can barely hold a sword.”

Thorn flushed red, that was it.

“Well perhaps if you’d sent me to the capital like all the other lordlings to learn how I wouldn’t be stuck in this shit hole! I’m eighteen, I want to see the world and instead you keep me here,” he shouted.

Jasper’s eyes widened in surprise. His son had never shouted back before. The surprise quickly vanished to be replaced by anger. His fat face reddened as he staggered to his feet.

“I forbid you from ever leaving this place. You are my son, you serve me, and don’t you forget it!” he bellowed. Spittle splat from his mouth and his bulbous body trembled with rage.

“You say that I shame you! You shame all of us! You had a banner once, were somebody. Now, look at you!” Thorn retaliated, immediately regretting his words.

Jasper stepped back as though someone had slapped him. He slouched back onto the bed and looked at his podgy bejewelled hands.

“Get out.”

“Father; I –”

“GET OUT and don’t come back. I disown you boy; do you hear me?”

When Thorn didn’t leave, Jasper picked up his mug and hurled it at him. It shattered into a million pieces against the stone wall.

Thorn fled the chamber.