7th June, 1329.
Renton, Dunbartonshire.
Scotland.
As Liam left the King’s house, it surprised him to find Lady Tatania and the others gathered around the entrance waiting for him. Lady Tatania was looking over young Claire’s fading scars but glanced as she heard the soft chime of Liam’s plate clinking.
“We thought it best to let you know where we were heading.” She said, seeing his confusion.
Just then the Lord emerged behind Liam.
“You’re still here, Tatania?” He said, pausing.
“The wounded have need of me, my love. I have offered our rooms to Lady of Cadzow for the night. We shall take her rooms at the Inn until her husband has recovered. She deserves all the comforts she can take until we return him to her.”
She smiled at her husband. “My Lord will escort me to the wounded in Renton, with Sir Peter and his wife.”
Lord Douglas arched an eyebrow. “I thought we might retir…” He started, gesturing back to the hall, but the Lady shook her head. “No husband. We shall spend the night in Renton.”
Lord Douglas grinned, glancing at the two page boys hovering with nervous energy beside Liam.
“You three have a great deal of catching up to do. Page De Leslie and Page Wedderburn, you are to accompany Squire Lamberton on his rounds. Fill him in on some of his duties while you’re at it.”
Sir Peter signalled to the guard, and the man ran to fetch Lord Douglas’ horse, and one other.
The Lord mounted his waiting horse, pulling Lady Tatania into the saddle behind him. With a gentle wave forward, he motioned to Sir Peter that the other mount was for him. “When you lads are done, return to Renton. We shall take your rooms, so sleep in the stables and guard the Lord of Cadzow.”
His orders given, The Lord waited for Sir Peter to mount before instructing the Groom to see Lady FitzGilbert and her daughter to their rooms. With that, he set off towards Renton, leaving Liam and the pages standing about awkwardly.
Andrew and Aidan stared at Liam, waiting for him to say something, while Liam stood there awkwardly, not knowing where to begin. He’d been hoping his friends would say something to break the building tension.
Eventually, Liam realized that as a Squire, he was–at least nominally–in charge of the group. He had his orders, and he’d follow them. His mind decided, he set off towards the Palisade. He paused, sensing that his friends were not following him.
Liam turned, beckoning them after him. “Come on then! I suppose we’d better use the chance to talk while we can!”
Both of his friends frowned at hearing the order, and Liam worried that he’d done something to annoy them.
It was good to have some time to catch up with them, even though they were being rather silent. In an effort to overcome whatever he’d done wrong, Liam pestered them with questions about what had happened after he’d disappeared.
He found himself grateful when Aidan finally spoke about how Iain and Margaret had been inseparable, despite his lost arm. Aidan breaking his silence seemed to thaw Andrews' tongue too. Soon Andrew was telling of how Lord Douglas had been stricken with remembered grief.
“I’m just glad that I’m back with my friends.” Liam said, strangely glad that his Lord had missed his presence so much.
Liam felt a shock of embarrassment as Andrew had turned on him. “Friends?” He’d exclaimed. “Is that what we are? We weren’t waiting for you because we wanted to! The Lady ordered us to.”
Liam stopped then, surprised at the nasty tone. “What do you mean? Of course we’re still friends!”
Andrew shook his head. “We spent over an hour with you on the way here from Dumbarton, and not once did you tell us why.”
“Why?” Confusion clouded Liam’s features.
“Why were you so stupid as to accept a quest? You were our friend, and now you’re turned into this… giant thing! You’re seventeen Liam! Why would you even want to spend time with us?” Aidan gestured up at Liam.
“We saw your Race. You’re not even human anymore! How are we supposed to be your friend anymore? You’ve been on adventures and seen thing we can’t even imagine. And when you can tell us what happened, you don’t. You wait to tell the Lord and the King, as if we don’t matter! Well, we discussed it, and it goes both ways, Squire!”
Both boys gave a sharp bow and turned away, as if to leave.
Liam hadn’t known what to say, especially not to the last comment. He’d known that something was off with his friends since he arrived, but he’d not expected them to yell at him, especially not for coming back more powerful and with the knowledge and skill to help them.
“Wait! If I’d have known I’d be gone for four years, I never would have accepted the Quest!” Liam said.
“Why would you be so stupid as to accept it in the first place?” Came the retort.
Hurt, Liam had felt his anger bubbling up, and before he could stop himself, he snapped.
“Stupid? Me? You’re the one who keeps looking at me as though I’m going to grow horns and start chasing you around the walls! You may think me a bastard for leaving, but not once in those four years did I think you would have turned our your friendship into spite and your own heads into a pair of bollocks! I spent four years ALONE Aidan. Do you have any idea how much I missed all of you? I only had M…”
He paused, remembering to keep the identity of his spirit guardian under wraps.
“I only had myself and the books for company!” he said.
He felt guilty for the lie, but it was necessary, and mostly true.
“You think I wanted this?” He could feel his anger feeding his words. “Thinking of you two and the others was all I could do to keep from going mad!”
Liam paused again, trying to catch his breath. He knew he was becoming hysterical but didn’t care. He wasn’t about to let his friends blame him for doing his best.
“I learned a lot… a lot… about the system and how to survive on my own, but I haven’t learnt nearly as much as how to deal with pig-headed children!”
Andrew had rushed to Aidan’s defence. “Well, you’re the one who wanted all the power and glory! Even in Ferniegair, when you went charging at that Orc! We heard Iain. He was right! You wanted to save the Lord, but to do it alone? That was the act of a Gloryhound! And now this? You never wanted friends, you just wanted people to admire you.”
Liam’s breath was coming in short, powerful gasps now, so enraged was he.
“Power? Glory? I did that to save the Lord’s life. I didn’t know I was disobeying orders until Iain explained it to me! Besides, Lady Tatania told you it’s me! Why would I ever want to stop being your friend?”
“But even she said you’d changed! What did you change into? You haven’t even told us what happened to you, not properly. That’s hardly the act of a friend! Friends would help each other. Talk to each other!” Andrew said, glaring at Liam.
“You’ve barely said a word to us at all since you returned.”
Liam was silent for a moment, trying to calm himself. I’m sick of it all. I’ve done my best, and now all people see is my size and powers! I’m ME damn it! Why can’t people see that? Why do I suddenly have to be someone different? Something different!
“You think I’m not a friend? Even though everything I’ve done has shown you I am? You’re not even listening! I didn’t have a choice! I took the quest, hoping it would allow me to use a harp. A Harp! I never expected an adventure! Sure, I learned a bunch of stuff, but that doesn’t matter to who I am!” He tried to speak louder, but Andrew was shouting now.
“Aye, you’re not a friend, Liam. You’re a monster! You’re a monstrous ass who brays too loud before the Lord and the King while he prances about in shiny armour and giving away secrets and power like sweetmeats at a fair.”
Aidan sniggered at the quip.
Liam made a rude gesture at Andrew, and turned away, hiding the tears that were forming in his eyes. It wasn’t the words that stung. It was the dismissal of his friendship, as though he somehow no longer held their trust.
For four years, Liam had comforted himself with the thought that he’d return to Scotland, and things would return to the same as they’d been before. He hadn’t been expecting his friends to treat him so differently.
He’d hoped was that his friends would be proud of what he’d achieved, or even a little jealous, but never angry with him, nor mocking in their behaviour. Instead, the reality was a constant questioning of who he was, what his intentions were, and why he’d returned.
Lord knows why! But now they’re even attacking me over mistakes I made, making it seem like they were intentional! His return wasn’t working out like he’d wanted. And now Llywelyn and Iain were being sent away, too. Nothing was going as he’d expected, and his confusion and anger were all he had left. No. That wasn’t right.
He recalled Seneca. “When friendship is settled, you must trust; before friendship is formed, you must pass judgment… Ponder for a long time whether you shall admit a given person to your friendship; but when you have decided to admit him, welcome him with all your heart and soul.”
He took a deep breath and commit himself. He would trust them and hope they returned it.
“I accepted the Quest because I thought it was the right thing to do. That maybe I could learn something that could protect all of you! Do you think I wanted this, though?” He gestured at himself. “Do you think I wanted to go for four years without my friends? I missed you all terribly. I’d give anything to have that time over, or better, to spend it with all of you!”
“Missed us?” Andrew bunched his fists and strode once more to Liam. His fists curled. “It was you who left US! You don’t know how much we worried about you!”
“You… you were worried about me? Why didn’t you say that from the start?” He could feel the anger fading, and realized his friends had never been angry with him, but angry because they were afraid. The had feared they’d lost him, even as he returned.
A wash of relief came over him.
Aidan glared at him. “Because you’re you! A Giant lummox. How are we supposed to ask about whether you’re still our friend when you look like arrows would bounce off your skin and you could tear a boar apart with your bare hands? Besides, you’re seventeen now, and a Squire! Why would you want to be friends with some page boys?”
Liam shook his head. “I don’t know. Why did Iain?” He asked. Then he chuckled as he saw Aidan and Andrew gaping like landed fish. “Why would my age matter? You both look just as old as I am, though I suppose I appear even older.”
“You think we look older? How much?” They asked in tandem, seeming proud that they had grown faster than their years should allow.
Liam inspected the pair. They’d grown a lot since he first met them. He pondered his answer. “You almost look like Iain, or Squire Glengarry did. You’ll get there, I promise! With another few levels, you’ll probably look just like me!” He replied. “I’ll even help you gain monster cores!”
Liam wasn’t merely saying what they wanted to hear. The two pages looked more like Iain than not, and he was a Knight now. The only thing they lacked was the fuzz of facial hair and the confidence of an older boy.
Liam wasn’t even sure if he had that confidence yet. It wasn’t hard to recall the nervousness he’d felt while entering the King’s Hall, nor of having to speak to the Legend himself. He decided that if he was to trust his friends, he must risk his ego.
“I was terrified in there.” He said. “I might not have looked it, but when I saw the King, I didn’t know whether to bow, kneel or crawl.” He said, and the others laughed.
“You hid it well,” Aidan said, a smile creeping on his face. “Though it might have been all the blood you had running down your armour that hid your nerves.”
Liam laughed. “I grew up with the stories of King Robert the Bruce.”
“Did you hear of his defeat of Sir Henry De Bohun?” Aidan and Andrew shook their heads. “Colm told me of it. He saw the fight at Bannockburn, where a famous knight of the English issued a challenge before the battle. Colm said that all fell silent, as De Bohun was known to be lethal with a Lance. The Scots and their allies groaned in dismay when the King of Scotland accepted the single combat.”
Andrew and Aidan listened with wrapt attention, hanging on every word, just as Liam had listened to Colm. He smiled, grateful to know that at least he was giving the tale the gravity it deserved.
“King Robert, armoured in nothing but a simple coat of plates and mail hauberk, mounted his horse. Refusing a shield, the King took up his trusty axe. De Bohun, seeing the King had ridden forward at a canter, charged. His gleaming plate armour and tourney helm shining in the sun for all to see.”
“As he drew closer, the English knight pulled his shield up to protect his flank and yelled, ‘For St George and King Edward!’. Dropping his lance at the last moment, De Bohun struck at the Scots King.”
“Our King Robert merely leaned back, calm as you like, and allowed the Lance to pass over his body. As he bounced back upright, our King swung his axe in a mighty overhead blow, cleaving the head of the Englishman in twain and shattering his axe.”
Aidan clapped Andrew on the back at that. “Ha!” he exclaimed, and Andrew grinned back at his fellow Page, feeling just as elated.
“After the battle was done, Colm inspected the remains of the axe. The King had broken it clean down the middle of the blade. I remember the Master saying that if I was ever to meet the King, I should do nothing to displease him lest I stir his ire.”
It took all three of them a moment to calm down as the excitement of the tale faded. Liam, realizing that his anger and fear were much the same emotions as his friends had felt, apologised for not taking the time to talk before.
The two pages quickly forgave him, but, remembering Llywelyn, suggested that he go see Sir Iain’s new squire at the tournament. For him to leave, believing that Liam had grown indifferent would be a hard blow to take while dealing with all the other changes in the young princeling’s life.
All three boys looked at each other and grinned, realizing how close they’d all come to saying words that would be hard to take back. Liam was grateful that Aidan had spoken his feelings with truth. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do the same.
Liam nodded his appreciation. His friends were willing to fight for their friendship, as was he, whatever changes had occurred.
“So, you think the Lord will make us squires soon too?” Aidan asked, as they walked towards the palisade once more.
Liam shrugged. “I don’t even know what a squire is supposed to do, beyond their intent. If not for Sir Keith, I wouldn’t even know that.”
Andrew, the longer serving page, grinned at Liam. “Well, if you can help us learn the system and all the things you discovered, we’ll help you with your duties. Deal?”
Liam had shaken his head.
“Friends?” He asked.
“Friends!” The others replied.
All three of the boys smiled, and as they continued their rounds, the dark cloud which hung over their friendship lightening considerably.
**************************************************************
Liam awoke the next day to the sound of scratching. Opening his eyes, he spied a rat chewing on his belt, which lay coiled upon the straw next to his head. He flicked the rodent away with the slap of a wrist and shuddered. He felt a sudden urge to craft a bed and smiled as he planned the design in his head.
No I won’t have time today, though, perhaps later. He mused.
He stretched and began to pull at the straw that matted his hair.
His movements woke Andrew, who yawned deeply, stretching with a groan. One of his hands, curling into a fist, lashed out with a sharp movement as he stretched. The blow accidentally punching Aidan in the nose.
Cursing in pain, Aidan, who was already awake, punched Andrew back. The impact of the blow woke Andrew up immediately, and he turned to see who’d struck him.
The two quickly fell to brawling, and Liam looked on, laughing as the two finally noticed him and guiltily stood up.
Aidan glared at Liam, dark rings under his eyes. "I suppose you’re about to tell us to act our age?” he said, giving the pretence of a sulk.
Liam merely grinned at his friend. “I would, but then, you’d be wearing a clout and calling for a wet-nurse. Didn’t baby sleep well?”
Aidan glowered at the comment, and Liam, afraid that he’d unintentionally hurt his friend with what he’d meant to be a joke, reached out a hand to stop him from turning. It was then that they sprung the ambush.
Aidan spun and leapt into Liam’s chest.
Liam sensed Aidan’s plan before he moved, though he pretended not to have noticed Andrew crawl behind him to post himself on hands and knees just behind Liam’s legs. As Aidan crashed into his chest, Liam allowed the expected move to knock him off balance. Liam tried to take a step back, then he toppled, smiling slightly as he allowed his friends to play their prank.
He sighed as he fell back, waiting for the gentle embrace of the pile of Hay behind him.
This, of course, didn’t happen.
Instead, he crashed into the pail of water Andrew had carefully placed behind him, and Liam let out a yowl of shock as the cool water doused him.
Lady Tatania, who’d slept in the cart with the Soul-damaged Lord of Cadzow and Squire Glengarry, poked her head over the rim of the wagon.
“Are you boys done?” She asked sternly.
A shuffling sound behind her caused her to turn, and a moment later, her face was joined by that of Lord Douglas. He merely raised an eyebrow at their antics, but all three boys turned crimson. In the next wagon over, the Soul damaged stirred, and Tatania rose from her rest to tend them.
“Liam, go see to your duties. Check on the pickets and then meet me at the Tournament grounds. My Lady shall arm me today.”
Liam paused. “Shall I take the Pages with me again, Lord?”
Lord Douglas frowned. “They will have their own duties this morning, but after they are done, I’ll send them to you.”
Liam nodded. “Thank you Lord, I’m afraid I’m not sure what many of my duties are, but Pages de Leslie and Wedderburn have offered to help.”
“Very well, but only after they have seen to their own duties!” His face wore a small smile, and Liam suspected that he’d planned for this outcome
Liam nodded his understanding. “Yes, Lord.”
Before Liam left, Lord Douglas mentioned something else. “The Tribulation credits you gave the king will be seen as a loan to the crown. Make sure you go to the King’s agent after the Tournament and see that you receive a note to that effect. If there are problems, come to me.”
“Yes Lord.” Liam said, bowing. He hadn’t intended for the credits to be a loan, as he had no use for them until he could reach a “safe zone”. Liam didn’t know what that might be, but was sure it related to a keep or donjon. Still, Scotland needed the credits more.
The boys bowed and quickly left the barn.
“Do you think they…” Andrew began, as they stepped outside into the cool air of a spring day.
The question went unanswered as Liam stared into the clear dawn sky. Already, the stars were fading as the dark of night became a purple-brown.
Liam glanced at his friends and grinned.
The King must have already used a significant portion of the Tribulation Credits, he mused. He only hoped it was enough to cover most of Scotland.
The timing of Liam’s return and gift to the King couldn’t have been better. Many of the farmers he’d overheard on the road to Glasgow talked of a coming famine. It was likely that the wheat and rye would be dead, but those farms who had planted vegetables, barley, and legumes should be fine.
Liam knew that the cold killed off many crops, which was why the farmer’s work was never done. He didn’t envy them their work in this environment, especially as the ground had frozen. Still, the signs of the coming thaw would bring joy to many of the hamlets.
The other boys, also glad that the weather was changing, laughed, hugging each-other in joy at the sight of clear skies once more. The pair hadn’t seen the moon for almost a month, and its familiar presence overhead was a great comfort to them.
Letting them enjoy the moment, Liam headed over to the Baths. He didn’t have time to wash properly, as he still had to make the rounds of the guard-posts at the King’s house.
Running his hand through his hair, he found he’d collected quite a few strands of hay from the Renton tavern’s barn. The drenching from his friends entangling them impossibly in the mussed strands. Liam sighed as he bent over a pail of water, staring at his reflection.
The difficulty his friends had in talking to him since his return was something he’d not expected, but looking at himself now, he realized how much he’d physically changed. He no longer looked like a boy. Now Liam appeared to be a fully grown man at the peak of health.
While his face was still youthful, the muscle on his forearm was as thick and corded as Colm’s. As he took off his shirt, he could see that the muscles of his chest and abdomen were just as defined.
While his isolation had allowed him to grow in some areas, he knew his mind remained much the same. While he’d learnt a great deal, he knew he hadn’t matured. His responsibilities while in the dungeon were purely to himself.
Now he had returned, his lack of social maturity showed, and he understood that his actions with the Master Dungeon map and with his free use of magic were signs of his immaturity.
The talk with his Andrew and Aidan last night had affirmed their friendship, but Liam knew that the changes in his station and his physique would require change. Also, his naivety and lack of foresight may have lost the kingdom it’s access to a Master Dungeon. He could no longer afford to be the Liam who disappeared. He’d need to change and find his place in this new world.
Liam recalled when Sir Keith had spoken to him of Intent and realized he had not thought on it for some time.
He knew he was close to discovering what his intent was, though he couldn’t quite explain why. He knew he needed to say the words. To set the words in his mind and learn to let them guide his actions, but he couldn’t seem to remember them. It was as if he could remember a sentence existed, and most of the words, but when he put them together, it made little sense.
He could feel his intent calling to him, like some force from the system, but knew he wasn’t ready to accept it yet. He knew the words were related to his Harbinger Page class, but wasn’t sure how. In the silent corners of his mind, he wished that his spirit guide could help him.
Liam wasn’t sure what he needed to do to affect that change, but knew it would come with time and experience. For now, he had to focus on the present.
He sighed, staring into his reflection for a long moment. He remembered the first day he’d spend with Sir Keith in the Keep at Douglas.
Liam washed quickly, dunking his head fully into the water and shaking vigorously. He dislodged most of the hay, though stray strands were still present.
He gave a mighty yawn and stretched. A seamstress, leaving one of the tavern’s rooms with her shoes in hand paused as she saw him. Her gaze flickering to his chest, abs and on as she eyed him like a cat would a mouse.
He smiled at her, and she turned a beet red, scurrying off down the road.
Aidan laughed as he saw the exchange. “You’re going to be popular.” He commented, gesturing after the girl.
Liam frowned. “Why’d she ru…”
Aidan snorted, and Andrew joined in.
“He hasn’t changed much, has he?” Andrew commented, patting Liam’s well muscled shoulder.
Aidan sniggered. “No, barely at all. Still horrible to look at. That woman nearly attacked you!”
“Shut up.” Liam said, uncomfortable with the idea that women now found him attractive.
“What’s your Charisma?” Aidan laughed, “Three?”
“No, it must be higher than that!” Andrew chimed in. “It’s got to be at least six. A toad has three!”
Liam shook his head at the two, waiting patiently as they washed. When they were done, he summoned a flame and helped them dry out.
Aidan, curious about the spell, asked if he could try to cast it.
As Liam taught him the words, Aidan strummed the harp, and, after watching Liam cast Flame a few more times, finally got it.
“Haha!” He exulted. “Now, when Andrew farts, I’ll be able to save myself!”
Liam burst into laughter at that, recalling the scented oil lamp they’d once had in their rooms in Douglas. He said so, and Andrew, though hurt by the comment, only grinned.
“It’s good to have you back, Liam. Sorry to give you a hard time, but you’ve changed so much. With everything else going on, we worried you’d have forgotten us.”
“Aye,” Aidan affirmed. “It’s a pity about Llywelyn and Iain, though. Still, I’m glad Iain was knighted, and Llywelyn is far more ready for his duties than we are.”
Liam snorted. “Speak for yourselves. I still don’t know what my duties are, beyond those given to me by the Lord!” Liam, curious that Aidan had learned the spell so fast, asked him about it.
"I have a wisdom of 20." He said, frowning. "I wanted to try and make sure I wouldn't make mistakes with my attributes, so built most into wisdom and my physical attributes."
Calculating in his head, Liam realized that he'd been wrong about teaching the spell. The 5% increase in chance to learn a new spell stacked so that anyone with 20 wisdom, was almost guaranteed to understand magic if they saw it only a few times. He reminded himself to teach the others whatever he could when he got the chance.
Liam looked over to Andrew, who'd been watching surreptitiously tried to cast the spell too, but to no avail. Grinning, Liam hurried him along. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you know it too!"
Andrew nodded gratefully, and the three of them returned to the tavern to dress.
Opening the barn door once more, Liam and the others donned their armour and, having nothing better to do, Andrew and Aidan followed Liam on his rounds.
As they went, they interrogated Liam for all the details he could remember from his time in Glitnir, what the Trolls looked like, and even had him show them the Aesium, removing two large ingots for them to try and hold.
The two howled with laughter as they chased the floating metal around the courtyard.
A Sergeant, on duty at the doors to the house, approached them at a jog, and told them to be quiet or move on. His face twisted in confusion as he looked at the metal. Instead of allowing himself the distraction, Liam was impressed how quickly the man returned to his post.
The rounds passed quickly, and it wasn’t long before others were up and about. There was almost a festive atmosphere as people noticed the clear skies and thawing ground. That the Tournament would begin today was added cause for celebration, and people were donning whatever weaponry and armour they had to hand.
Liam too had accepted the Tournament invitation, guiding the Lady of Cadzow and Father Doreen through the process.
Sir Peter had simply smiled and displayed the text showing he’d entered, and much to both of their surprise, so had Mistress McDonnell.
As they finished their rounds, Pat and Fergus approached.
“Hello Squire!” Fergus nodded to him.
“Hello Fergus, Pat.” Liam acknowledged. “Are you on duty this morning?”
Pat grinned. “No, we’re about to leave for the Tournament. You coming?”
Andrew nodded. “Aye. I haven’t seen a tournament before. My pa used to compete in them between the wars. He even won a few in France!”
“Hmm.” Aidan said. “I’ve never seen one before. Do people often die?” he asked. Liam could see him thinking about the message from the system regarding resurrection.
Andrew shook his head, and Liam felt a surge of relief. While he was far more powerful than the others, and his skills and armour protected him from a great deal, he was still concerned about what the Tournament would entail.
Somehow he doubted that the way the Nobles of Europe fought would be the way the System did things.
Still, he might be wrong.
The five of them set out for the Tournament grounds.
On the way, they chatted companionably about the system, and Liam tried to teach the others the Flame spell. Only Andrew managed it, though Liam suspected Pat was holding back, so Fergus didn’t feel too badly.
As they arrived, most of the population of Glasgow and Dunbartonshire were gathered in a great mass of humanity. There must have been at least twelve thousand people there. Scots of all ranks and occupations strolled aimlessly throughout the field, or stood and discussed their thoughts and hopes for the tournament.
Here and there, clusters of armoured men-at-arms and archers were forming up into ranks, and peasants–both women and men–joined them.
Liam scanned the crowd, inspecting people’s levels as he did. It wasn’t long before he received two visions, along with two levels in his Identify Skill.
The highest level he’d seen were some miners who had hit level fourteen. They stood out from the rest, as they were both taller and far more well built than their neighbors. Liam gave them a friendly nod as they passed, which was returned with some awe as they stared at his armour.
Most held weapons of differing quality, though others had no weapons at all, and it seemed to Liam they were only there to watch. The poorest amongst the crowd carried whatever tools they could spare. He could see several mattocks, Scythes, Smithing hammers, and even a few fire-hardened pikes.
Even some of the noble Ladies had joined their men, armoured in gambesons and mail, Aiden pointed them out, and Liam chuckled as he spied them through the crowd. At their head was a larger woman, who looked like Sir Peter’s wife, though even heavier set. Liam shook his head in wonder. Their entire party looked odd as their skirts billowed out from under Hauberks.
It wasn’t until he saw one woman wearing the habit of a novice that he realized the entire group of women were Nuns.
Looking about, he also saw a cluster of tonsured men carrying flails and sickles. They looked a serious bunch, despite the ink stains on their fingers. Liam wished both groups the best as he passed.
As the progressed, it soon became clear that it would be nearly impossible to find the Lord and his wife by conventional means. As the press of the crowd tightened, Liam had to activate his Magic Sense to detect those around him.
Even so, it took him their party some time to find Lord Douglas and his retinue.
The Lord of Douglas and his wife stood surrounded by their remaining men-at arms. Sir Iain and Squire Llywelyn were also there and grinned as they saw Liam leading Andrew and Aidan towards them.
The newly knighted Iain embraced Liam. “Thanks to you, I get to enjoy my knighthood.” He said, smiling. “Welcome back!”
Llywelyn also grinned. “I saw these two,” he gestured at Aidan and Andrew, who looked suddenly sheepish, “Mucking about in the Tavern this morning. They filled me in on what you said last night.”
Liam nodded. “I hope you can count me as a friend too, Squire.”
Llywelyn laughed. “If you’re going to be formal, call me ‘Your Highness’, but don’t worry. It’s comforting to know that you haven’t changed that much.”
Aidan and Andrew grinned at each other. “You should have seen him this morning.”
“Aye, the bigger they are, the bigger the splash!”
The two quickly schooled their faces as Lord Douglas came over.
Sir Iain slapped a hand to his heart. “Milord.”
Lord James grinned. “Congratulations, Sir Iain!” He said. “I wish we’d had more time to talk last night, but things moved apace. Are you ready to leave?”
The newly minted knight nodded. “Aye, Lord.” He said. “As soon as the Tournament is over, Llywelyn and I shall meet up with Sir Hay at the King’s stables. I suppose I shan’t be seeing much of you soon?”
Lord Douglas shook his head. “No, but give our love to my brother, and if you see our son, him too.”
Sir Iain Campbell nodded. “I shall, Lord.” Turning, he looked to the Lady. “Thank you both for all you’ve done for me. If ever you need anything, you have but to call and I and my family will be there.”
Lady Tatania smiled. “You did well with that one.” She said to her husband, “Though if he’s any more chivalrous, I doubt the Princess will remain unwed long.”
Iain blushed, causing the others to laugh.
As they waited, Liam taught the others the “Flame” spell, as well as “Ward” and “Healing Song”. He was just as surprised as the others when Lord Douglas managed to re-create the spells without the use of an instrument.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The others kept trying for a while, and while Aidan achieved it with his melodious voice, Andrew’s singing only resulted in winces from the others.
After some time, Liam and the others could see that the sun had fully risen above the horizon, yet no sign from the System acknowledged the arrival of Dawn.
Discussion amongst the waiting Scots turned from trivial matters to a focus on why the tournament was taking so long to begin. Bringing up the timer, Liam saw it was still counting down. Ten minutes remained.
“This is insane.” Liam’s Lord said. “The King isn’t here yet, and no one knows what the hell is going on.”
Aidan spoke up, having spotted the Lord of Moray’s banner fluttering nearby, and Liam’s small group followed the Lord and Lady towards it.
A commotion seemed to spread from the tent, and Liam strained to hear.
“King… Blood… his heart… burned… wall.” The mass of voices made it hard for him to make out, but one word sounded above them all. “Murdered.”
As their group pushed through to the Earl’s tent, Moray emerged, a look of fury on his face. “The King is dead, James. Dead!”
Lord Douglas’ face froze, and he went sheet white. “Do not make such jests with me Thomas.” He said, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. Moray’s guard tensed.
Moray spun on him. “I dinnae joke, ye fool! My squire just ran here from the King’s chambers. They found him on the floor of his chambers, his face burnt off.”
The Earl caught sight of Liam and seemed to lose control. With a roar of outrage, he charged Liam.
Still in shock, Liam stood unmoving as the Earl grabbed him by his armour and shook him. Tears were streaming down the older man’s face as he screamed at Liam. “Why, you bastard!”
Then Lord James was there, pulling the Earl off Liam. “Have you gone mad Tom?” He yelled.
“Only one man could have burned him like that!” The Earl screamed. “Only this bastard!” He pointed at Liam of the Douglas’ shoulder. Balling a fist, the Earl struck Liam across the face.
Liam stood there in shock as the Earl struck him. The blow didn’t stun him. Rather, it was the impact of the hate behind the blow that hurt.
“It cannot have been Liam.” Lord Douglas said, finally prying the smaller man off Liam. “Not unless he has a doppelgänger.”
Breathing heavily, he tried to calm his friend. “I was the last to leave the Hall, and Liam went before me, ensuring the sentries on the palisade were alert. I checked with the guards before arriving this morning, and all agreed that he’d done the job well, and that my pages were with him.”
The Earl shook his head. “That doesn’t absolve him of the crime James, he could have snuck off after his duties.”
“No, he could not.” The Earl of Douglas insisted. “While my wife was sure that it was Liam, I did not want him so close to the King alone, so I sent my Pages with him. They had some catching up to do, anyway.”
Aidan and Andrew looked guiltily at Liam, but he only smiled at them grateful that they’d followed the Lord’s orders.
Speaking up, Aidan addressed the Earl. “We did, Lord. There is no way Liam could have killed the King. He fell asleep as soon as his armour had come off and slept till morning.”
“And did you watch him all night?” The earl demanded, “He might have awakened and snuck out of your rooms.”
“I didn’t have to, Lord.” Aidan said, stifling a yawn. “Page De Leslie snores loud enough to wake the dead. I didn’t get a wink of sleep. I’m surprised Liam did!”
The Earl glared at the page in agitation. “Besides,” Lord Douglas said, summoning a Flame with his song. “I learned this spell in less than a few minutes this morning. If that’s possible, then anyone with knowledge of the system could have learned it if they’d been watching Liam’s battle last night. It's likely there’s another Vampyre present in the King’s court. If so, it may have known the spell.”
Snarling in rage, the Earl turned away and stalked back into his tent. Lord Douglas moved to follow, but Tatania gripped his arm, trying to turn him back to face her. The Lord of Douglas was in no mood to be settled, though. His ire roused, he pulled his arm free of Lady Tatania’s grip.
“Moray!” James yelled, and the Earl stopped. “Where is Prince David?”
The Earl calmed himself and nodded. “The Prince is safe, and being taken to Perth. I had Sir Hay take him with his escort. Neither accepted the tournament.”
“Sir Gilbert went?” Lord Douglas questioned. “What of Berwick and the Dungeon?”
“The King’s life is more important than some tale told by a traitor!” Moray said, then caught himself. “Apologies, James. I should not have said that. If you give your word the boy is innocent, I shall accept it. At least, if no clear evidence of his involvement comes forth.”
James frowned, but nodded. “You have my word, Lord Moray.” He confirmed.
Nodding, the older man turned away from Lord Douglas, moving as if to re-enter his tent.
Before he disappeared, the Earl paused, as if realizing something. “We’ll need to decide who shall be regent!”
James nodded. “Aye. I suggest Lennox. He’s always been level-headed about these things.”
Moray scowled. “We’ll discuss it later. For now, we must deal with this Tournament. Then we can decide matters.”
As the Earl left, Liam watched his Lord succumb to grief, turning to hold Lady Tatania in a tight embrace.
Lord Douglas let the tears flow for a silent moment and Liam and the Pages averted their eyes. This is what it must feel like to lose a friend. He thought. He wondered how he’d feel if he heard news that Duncan, or the pages were slain. He felt his eyes misting at the thought.
The commotion spread by the news of the King’s demise went on for a while, with many giving each other uncertain looks. The further news that a monster had been slain in the Kings hall the night before shook many in the crowd to their core. It was not long before soon people were packing their belongings and preparing to leave. The excitement of the tournament fading into sorrow and fear.
All movement ceased in an instant as a gong sounded above the fields. It was not a soft sound, but a harsh clang, as though two mighty swordsmen clashed blades in the heavens above the field.
A message appeared before Liam’s eyes.
The Dunbartonshire Tournament has begun.
Due to the death of its creator, King Robert de Brus of Scotland, the Tournament rules will be set by his Comes Militarum Lord James Douglas, Of Douglas.
Lord Douglas and Vel’Cazrov, Dread Queen of Xezolte are called to answer the summons of Traxiss the Dragon-Lord, the Arbitrator of Earth’s Tribulation.
Tournament will begin in
5…
4…
3…
2..
1…
A great horn blew, and Lord James disappeared from his wife’s embrace in a brilliant display of light, and motes of magical energy.
The others stared around, but Liam knew what had happened. “Don’t worry Milady.” Liam said.
She put on a brave face for those watching. “I won’t. I know my James too well to think he won’t find a way back.”
The group waited anxiously for the Lord to return, but they didn’t need to wait long.
Lord Douglas appeared in a flash of light once more.
At the same time as he did, another window appeared.
The Dumbartonshire Tournament rules have been agreed.
Rule 1: No competitor shall use active offensive magic.
Rule 2: The tournament will be decided in a single battle.
Rule 3: All accumulated Levels will be averaged amongst all competitors on both sides.
Rule 4: Item bonuses will not apply.
Rule 5: All accumulated experience from both sides will be divided equally amongst the winner’s army.
Average Level set to 5.
You may now assign your attribute points.
Liam felt himself change, his strength, perception and vitality leaving him in a rush. While he didn’t feel drained exactly, it was as though he’d somehow become heavier, slower, and dimmer.
He opened his attributes screen.
Statistics of Liam Lamberton
Titles: Page, Primus,. Journeyman.
Name: Liam Lamberton
Level:
Harbinger Page 5
{Levels: 36
11 (Race Tier 2: Human 10, Demi-Ascended 1)
5 (Harbinger Page)
10 (Magismithing)
10 (Archimancy)}
Race: Demi-Ascended
Class: Combat Class: Harbinger Page (Davidic Order)
Crafting Classes: Magismithing, Archimancy
Age: 17
Available Attributes: 20
Tribulation Experience: N/A
(Will be calculated following conclusion of Tournament.)
Health: 200
Magic: 230
Stamina: 100
Strength: 23
Agility: 24
Vitality: 20
Intelligence: 24
Wisdom: 19
Charisma: 27
Luck: 37
Faith: 28
Will: 23
Skills:
Skills:
Sword: 20
Swimming: 12
Manners: 16
Tactics: 13
Animal Husbandry: 10
Light Armor: 8
Riding: 10
Carpentry: 22
Chivalry: 7
Reading: 44
Stealth: 4
Wood Chopping: 22
Writing: 18
Housekeeping: 31
Languages: 71
Maintenance: 26
Athletics: 20
Mathematics: 21
Harp: 19
Music: 23
Heavy Armor: 6
Polearm: 15
Shield: 23
Lance: 6
Climbing: 18
Fishing: 58
Cooking: 33
Design: 26
Smithing: 32
Mining: 33
Meditation: 7
System Lore: 15
Spells:
Ward: Level 2
Healing Song: Level 5
Telekinesis: Level 8 ==> Telekinetic Field: Level 4
Flame Level 8 ==> Inferno: Level 3 (Disabled for Tournament)
Magic Sight Level 1
Regrowth: Level 1
Scriptorium: Level 1
Deepscan: Level 1
World-Smithy: Level 1
Abilities
Feinting Slash: Level 1
Covered Strike: Level 1
Shield Parry: Level 1
Epic Crafter (Passive)
Inspired Design (System Effect)
Epic Designer (Passive)
Magic Sense (Passive)
Magic Attunement (Passive)
Mythic Designer (Passive)
Identify: Level 5
He could see that all of his Skills, Abilities and Spells remained intact, though he saw his Attributes had all changed.
He considered how to apply his attributes, then looked at them again.
That can’t be right.
He could see that his class level had reset to 5, but he only gained one attribute per level in his class and four available attributes. Compared to who he’d been at the start of the tribulation, he seemed to have gained ten more attribute points for every one of his attributes, in addition to one for each level.
He looked at his class and saw that his Harbinger class was the only one to receive the five levels the system had averaged out amongst all the competitors. Liam supposed that made sense, especially since he now had a class beyond his race. Most of the others in the field were still below level 10, and thus not eligible to take any other class than their race.
He checked, hopeful that the attributes he’d assigned from his Human racial class remained, but without luck.
Next, Liam looked at his race. He’d kept it, along with the 10 additional attributes in all fields that came with it. Thinking of his class, a sweat of fear rose on his brow. My race! If I have it, what about…
While his Lord had considered the effects that levels might have, he hadn’t taken into account different races. If the enemy had several ascended beings within their ranks, there was no way the people of Dunbartonshire gathered on the plains could defeat the armies of the damned.
Knowing that wouldn’t change anything, and if anyone overheard him telling his friends, it might start more of a panic than had been caused by the death of the King.
Instead, Liam focused on things that he could affect. Looking around, he saw the others all considering their own attributes.
Liam considered how he would re-work his attributes now that he had the chance to start over. He knew that his strength and agility were already higher than that of an average man, and that much of the fight would be with strength.
Although…
He looked over his Spells he saw that his Telekinetic power was not listed as offensive magic! Eagerly, he looked at the magic cost of the spells.
Frowning, he looked again and grinned, putting six points into intelligence and fourteen into wisdom.
He knew exactly how he would fight this battle, and it wouldn’t be with his sword alone.
When he was done, he looked over his attributes and smiled in satisfaction.
Health: 200
Magic: 370
Stamina: 100
Strength: 23
Agility: 24
Vitality: 20
Intelligence: 30
Wisdom: 19
Charisma: 27
Luck: 37
Faith: 28
Will: 37
He knew his armour–at the Journeyman level of craftsmanship - should protect him from the worst of the attacks of level five footsoldiers, so his only concerns would come from ascended beings, or monsters. Even then, at such a low level, it was unlikely they could breach the Aesium and Mythril armour he wore.
Now all he had to do was ensure his telekinesis did not drain his magic. There was one more thing he wanted to try. Removing the Volcanic hammer from his back, he used its ability, reshaping it. The others stopped assigning their attributes to watch, and their eyes widened as they saw what Liam had made.
The shield of Mythril may lack the +3 to all abilities, but all of its abilities still functioned. Liam brought up its description.
Volcanic Hammer (Epic)
This Mythril tool doubles as the weapon of a true Magismith. The Volcanic hammer applies heat as it strikes, ensuring that when forging the work remains malleable.
When used in combat, the Hammer burns its foes, crushing and burning with fire and Mythril.
This tool grants:
+3 to all attributes. (Not available due to Tournament Rules)
Weapon Ability 1: Return.
This hammer returns to its owner's grip on mental command, allowing it to be thrown and retrieved in combat.
Weapon Ability 2: Shatter.
Once per combat, the weapon may shatter any item of a lesser tier.
Tool Ability: Shaper.
This hammer may change its surface profile to the user's need.
Drawing Lehat Chereb, Liam activated and deactivated its runes, smiling as he saw that they too still functioned. Finally, Liam removed his helm, and, putting up his padded and chain coifs, he placed his helmet on his brow, buckling it in place.
To all present, they saw Liam as he appeared in Cadzow. A gleaming knight, and paragon of the Heavens. A harbinger of the system on Earth.
Lord Douglas was the first to move. “You’ll have to make me a suit like that, Liam.” He said, slapping his squire on the back. “It won’t do if people think you are the knight.”
Liam gave a small smile, his face somewhat restricted by the padding of his coif and the solid mass of his helm. “I shall, lord, though I have a few ideas that might make it better than this.”
Lord Douglas froze. “Better?” He said, looking over the wide plates of Liam’s coat, and the way the armour overlapped, even when Liam flexed and moved. “You can make better than this?”
“Aye, Lord.” Liam said, “At least I will be able to once I can get to a forge.”
Their conversation was interrupted once more as a flurry of horn calls sounded over head. These were not the deep, soul-shaking notes of the Tribulation horns, but sweeter and more insidious sounds that blended. The harmony of the pure fighting with the dissonance of the foul.
A message appeared before all those gathered in the field.
“The Arbitrator has conveyed the rules to the System. Implementation of the tournament will begin in ten minutes. Combat may begin. Good Luck. to Mortals and Damned alike.”
Liam looked up as a great pressure wave of air descended upon him, and for a moment, he froze in sheer terror. Others in the field simply collapsed from the force of the air. Overhead, a great dragon flew. Liam could make out the scales on its hide from where he was, even though the monster flew nearly a mile over him. Its great wings smashing apart a small cloud as it flew.
It gave a mighty roar, and Liam found himself frozen in place.
A Draconic Lord has incapacitated you.
As you heard the Mighty Roar of your Tournament Master, the effects of this Celestial beings call has been mitigated. You have been stunned for 2 minutes.
Liam could barely think. His eyes read over the message repeatedly, but Liam’s mind simply could not comprehend the words.
As the two minutes elapsed, Liam looked around, seeing the Lord of Douglas had collapsed into a pool of mud. Liam ran to him and pulled his face free of the soil. With a racking cough, the Lord of Douglas spat out mud. He fell to sputtering and threw up.
Others had been more fortunate though, and Liam only had to roll one of the guards face up before the effect wore off. Lady Tatania still stood, though she trembled in shock, though Iain and the pages were all curled upon the ground.
Turning to his mud-coated Lord, Liam tried to clean him up as best he could as the effect slowly wore off.
As it did, Lord Douglas looked enraged. “Damn dragon!” He shouted, shaking a mailed fist into the air. Turning to Liam, he nodded his thanks. Aidan ran forward to help them lift the Lord to his feet.
“The bastard nearly killed me before the Tournament even began. You know I spoke to it?”
“Spoke to who, Lord?” Aidan asked.
“The Dragon. He’s a bastard. He sees humans as nothing more than slaves and was annoyed we woke him to arbitrate this event.”
“Worse though, I met the enemy.” He gave an involuntary shudder.
Tatania approached him. “James. What was it?”
He turned to her and embraced her quickly, thoroughly ruing her dress with mud, before holding her at arm’s length and staring for a long moment into her eyes. “That thing is everything you are not.” He said. “And I’m going to kill it as many times as I can.”
“First though, we need to organise this rabble. Squire, go gather the other Lords at the Earl of Moray’s tent. We have little time to plan. Have the men-at-arms form ranks, and get the archers behind them. We must set a battle line if we are to survive what is to come.”
“Yes, Lord.” Liam replied, and Sir Iain and the others nodded too.
As he turned to leave, the Lord of Douglas placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him for a moment. The others paused too, turning back to the Lord.
“I said this to Iain on his first raid, and I say it to you all now. A battle is won on one thing alone.”
Iain gave the answer. “Trust.”
Lord Douglas nodded. “If you Trust in your training, your discipline and your commanders, you will inspire others to do the same. Trust in them too. Only though Trust will a battle be won. Break the enemy’s trust, or kill enough of the buggers, and we shall be victorious.”
“Spread the word.” The Lord of Douglas, Comes Militarum of Scotland ordered. "We ready for battle!"
Liam nodded, and with a salute left to perform his duty.
A rending crack like thunder rolled across the field, and heads turned to see what had caused this new horrifying sound.
The scene playing out before the onlookers was even more terrifying than the sound.
A portal had opened in the field below, about two miles distant. There, in the distance, silhouetted against the silver glow of the portal, the people of Dunbartonshire gained their first glimpse of the enemy.
Streaming from the portal came the legions of the damned. It was too far to see details, but they didn’t need to as the horror of what was coming became apparent.
Liam could tell from a glance that the enemy numbered nearly three times that of those gathered around him.
He cursed, desperate in his hope that the Scots had a plan. He would have to trust they did.