The next week was spent on the road as their group focused on reaching the closest city to Wyrdwood. There were villages here and there along their path but they were more of the same. Restocking their supplies was the only necessary time to stop and even then, these hamlets rarely had much prepared beyond simple bread and water. The lives of these folk were meant to be simple ones, at least when they weren’t being attacked by monsters.
Alistair had recognized an odd phenomenon as their wagons passed these places. People were actually starting to recognize him. It was still somewhat rare, but he had noticed on occasion people would look once at him, then twice. The second time he would notice a flash of recognition, as if they remembered his face from somewhere. No one ever tried to speak to him, but he had caught a few pointing and whispering as his wagon would pass their little hut.
His thoughts drifted back to when he had fought the warband of hobs, and the rewards he reaped from completing those quests. Supposedly he was Recognized in the local area, whatever that entailed. He figured these candid reactions were a part of that. It felt nice, actually. Before when he was a simple man-at-arms and he would visit the settlements down in the valley of Wyrdwood, no one would pay him any mind. He was just another face in the crowd.
Now, he was something. Maybe not famous, but something.
Sir Manus had told him not to let the attention go to his head. He would be the one to give such advice considering he was apparently Well Known in these parts. People always turned their heads when they saw the knights atop their steeds. The nobles received respectful bows and praise wherever they went. A perk of their renown, he supposed.
Alistair heard a bell chime in the distance. He leaned forward to get a better look from where they were on the road. He noticed some kind of obstruction, like a wall. Walls, in fact. This settlement on the horizon looked like it was fully enclosed, and the defenses looked rather impressive even from a distance. He remembered Baron Caldwell’s castle walls covered only his keep and a few outbuildings, while the settlement outside remained unguarded. The city they were approaching now looked much bigger than Wyrdwood, and yet the walls wrapped all around.
“See that, lad?” Sir Manus called out to him from up ahead. The older knight seemed in good spirits today with their destination now in sight.
Alistair nodded and waved back at him. He was thankful that the highborn still kept him in his thoughts. Too often he had noticed peasants working so hard to please those of noble blood, only for their names and faces to be forgotten in a fortnight by their careless masters.
This felt somewhat reinforced in that he was still in the back with the rest of the peasants. It didn’t bother him much because he was just that, a peasant. That said, he had to admit it did sting a bit. That even after his hard-fought battle the squires up in front hadn’t invited him to sit or dine with them once. During their week together so far, Alistair had learned the name of every other servant in his wagon. He had even managed to earn the rest of the knights’ respect, though whether that was thanks to Sir Manus’s influence or his own efforts, he couldn’t know for sure.
But the squires still refused his company. Though he was loath to remind himself of Kevin, Alistair felt somewhat reminded of him when in their presence. Perhaps it was their relatively young age to the knights, but they flaunted their status over him in what ways they could get away with. It was mostly a subtle effort so as not to rouse the ire of their mentors, but it was a routine Alistair was quite familiar with in his life.
It seemed that, for now at least, a gap would remain between them.
No matter, he thought to himself. Whatever frustration he may have felt while stuck on the road soon melted away as they approached the gates. There to greet them as they passed were a few guardsmen. He recognized that the men-at-arms were wearing a tabard made of green and red stripes. Adelgard, it must have been.
That meant that they were out of Baron Caldwell’s territory now. The only reason he figured the city to be Adelgard was that those colors were close to the same on the knight that Kevin Caldwell had served as a squire. The knight had visited the Caldwell keep once before and his colors were on full display that day. Maybe he even lived in this city somewhere.
“Finally,” he said under his breath. They had found a place to stop just off the main thoroughfare of the town.
Alistair hopped off the wagon and stretched his back. The week had not been kind to his body. Riding remained just as inconvenient as ever, and parts of him were still sore from the earlier combat. Thankfully, he discovered that he suffered no physical wounds to his human body, even when the attacks fully pierced the armor.
His hand brushed the side of his ribs and winced at the still tender skin. While his normal body suffered no direct damage, he still bruised and suffered from pain. All the more reason for him to avoid getting hurt the best he could.
A normal man would surely have died from the wounds he had suffered from the orcs. Sir Manus had assured him of that much. They were amazed he had survived the ordeal.
“How do you feel?” Sir Manus had dismounted his horse by now and had come to find him. His squire, a young man by the name of Teles, was in the process of removing some of the superfluous armor plates on his arms and legs so that he could move around more freely while in town.
“I feel fine, milord.” Alistair tried to prove it by stretching one arm in a sweeping motion. He sucked his teeth as a shot of pain ran up the side of his sternum. “Maybe not, actually.”
“No need to push yourself, Alistair. This is a place to rest.” The knight motioned to the bustling streets around them. It was certainly a lively place. “You’ll have plenty of time left to prove yourself. The Lady of the Lake would want you to stay in good health, don’t you think?”
“I suppose so,” Alistair said with a shrug. He was certainly happy to pause if it meant a chance for a nice rest. It felt especially tiring on the road, sleeping under the wagon with nothing but a blanket and the heat of the man next to you to stay warm and dry. He would love to get a fancy tent like Sir Manus and the others, but alas, he had neither the funds to buy it nor the space to keep it.
Was this the life for every knight and paladin-errant? Maybe it wasn’t as glamorous as he once believed.
“Cheer up, lad,” Manus said, offering him a comforting grin. He was left in only his chest plate and tabard now, and he seemed ready to stretch his legs. “Come with me to the inn. We plan to make lodgings there.”
“Alright then.”
Together they set off. The other knights and squires scattered to go about their own business in town. Teles, Manus’s boy, was left responsible for the peasants as they worked to tally the supplies and make ready to purchase more for the next leg of their journey. The peasants grumbled but did as they were bid. With luck they'd get a chance of their own to see the sights.
As they walked along the city streets it started to sink in just how far Alistair had come from his humble beginnings. He had never seen this many people running about on a street before. Vendors carried their goods in heavy crates while commoners gathered at the opening stalls. There were nobles, freeholders, gentlemen, peasants, and merchants all milling around next to one another. The sheer volume of their combined gossip grated on his sensitive ears.
“Is it like this every day?” shouted Alistair over the din of the crowd.
“This is the peak shopping hour!” said Sir Manus. He leaned over so as not to speak so loudly. “It’s around this time peasants and other vendors come in from the surrounding hamlets to buy and sell. Then they all head back before dark as the roads can be unsafe at night.”
Alistair gave him a funny look. “You mean not all of these people live inside the walls?”
Sir Manus shook his head. “No, only freeholders and other folk of means can afford to live here. The rest are from little villages that surround Adelgard. I’ve seen some walk hours in the early morn’ just to come to market.”
“No wonder there’s no room to walk here,” Alistair said as he bumped into the third person as they made their way upstream through the crowd. “How do they stay sane being packed together like this?”
Manus chuckled. “It’s just the way city life is, I suppose. You get used to it.”
He was thankful to be with the knight in this mess. People seemed to naturally part around the older man so that he could walk past. For Manus, this didn’t seem out of the ordinary or stressful one bit. It was all Alistair could do but try and keep up as they searched for signage to indicate a place of rest.
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“Lady’s blessing upon ye, milord!” They heard the innkeeper shout from across the bar as they entered the inn. Yet still, more people were littered about at the tables there. They drank and gambled with each other. Boisterous yells and frustrated sighs were the order of the day.
“Good day,” Manus said. He leaned against the counter and spoke terms with the man.
While he did that, Alistair stood awkwardly and watched those around him. He had never been to an inn before, though he had managed to find a bit of ale to drink on more than one occasion. There was a strange feeling he got from the city folk here. This place and the people in it felt unpredictable, hard to follow. He struggled to ignore the overwhelming sights and smells.
“Alistair,” Manus called out to him. “I’ve arranged for lodgings. Let’s go see what passes for a bed here.”
He nodded, eager to leave the rambunctious scene behind him. Manus was like a lifeline he desperately wanted to stay close to. The one sign of familiarity in a sea of the unknown. Why was it that he felt more comfortable on the battlefield than he did among these strangers?
Up the stairs, he felt relieved to find things a little more calm there. Sir Manus had rented five rooms, a whole half of the man’s establishment. The hefty coin purse he stuffed back behind his chest plate looked not a tad lighter, either. How nice to not have to worry about being able to pay the cost of something. Alistair could only imagine what that life would be like.
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“I arranged a room for each pair of knights and their squire. Here.” In his hand, he had the fifth key. “The one down the hall there is yours. Take off that heavy rucksack of yours, will you? You’ll hurt yourself lugging all that around.”
Alistair looked at the little iron key and was struck by the man’s kindness. There was a part of him that expected to have to sleep with the wagons or in the barn with the other servants. Manus had been kind and respectful to him so far, but this was more than even Alistair expected. It was the first time he would have a room truly to himself.
“T-Thank you, milord,” said Alistair. He took the key and gripped it tightly.
The older man sighed. “It’s just Sir Manus, lad. You needn’t be so formal with me. Especially after your heroism just one week ago. Be proud, stand tall.” Manus patted his own stomach as it growled. “And hurry up so we can get something to eat. I’m starving!”
“Alright,” he said, bowing his head. Alistair began to grin as he walked down the hall. What an odd thrill this was.
Once at the door, he examined the key like it was a relic all its own. He slotted it in and enjoyed the satisfying click as the door unlocked. Then he went past the threshold properly after a moment to collect himself. It was really nothing special: a bed, a small table, and a few scattered pieces of decor. The room didn’t even have a window to look out of. Yet there was something truly special about it to Alistair.
He took a moment to sit on the bed and just soak in this feeling of independence. This was the first real bed he had ever slept on. It wasn’t a pile of straw with a blanket to lay on. A pillow full of feathers even sat by the headrest. Oh, what luxury, he thought. The room was thick with humidity and perhaps a touch of mold, but considering their lack of reservations this was probably more than adequate.
It was certainly good enough for Alistair’s simple tastes.
Alistair had to remind himself that Sir Manus was surely waiting for him. The older knight didn’t have a rucksack he had to carry or a cheap room to inspect. This was all a simple chore to someone like Manus, probably. So he stowed the rucksack on top of the bed and off the floor, in case there were rats. It wouldn’t stop them, but it did make him feel a tiny bit better than leaving his belongings on the ground.
Back to the hall he went, shutting the door behind himself. He enjoyed the sensation of locking his room behind him. Ah, perhaps that was why he was so excited. The feeling of the room being his and his alone was just starting to sink in. Even if it would only be for a night or two, he treasured that feeling. He could only hope it wouldn’t be the last time he experienced such a feeling.
“Ready?” Sir Manus asked from down the hall. He leaned against the frame of his doorway, arms crossed.
Alistair ran to catch up to him, his relic token jingling around as he did.
“Ready. Where do we go to eat?” He was used to only two ways, his mother’s cooking and the mess hall at the barracks. Now they were far removed from both options.
Manus tapped his shoes on the wooden floor. “Why, right here of course. You think they only serve drinks?” He laughed as he said it. Alistair felt his cheeks flush as his lowborn thoughts revealed themselves again. “Come, I’ll show you what they call food in a city like this.”
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“Milady, will you be needin’ an escort today?”
For three days now Rozena had visited the Viscount’s keep in Adelgard, and every day when she left she was greeted by the same guardsman. She remembered his name was Pod because of how much he reminded her of a green pea: sweet and rotund.
Rozena flashed him a smile and bowed her head. “Not today, Pod. Thank you,” she said, just the same as last time.
He deflated a bit as though he believed his routine would have worn her down by now. Part of the reason for the same song and dance each day was that the inner castle gate had been decreed to remain closed. Only once visitors had been greeted or cleared could they enter. That meant not just those going in, but also those leaving. Security had been tight since the assassination of Viscount Lathurn not but a week ago.
So, she did appreciate Pod’s offer of protection in a small way. There was real concern in the keep that a killer lived among them. And not just any killer, but a murderer of highborn. Honestly, she was surprised the son of lord Ellair Lathurn hadn’t taken to turning the city upside down to find his father’s murderer. From her conversations with him, he certainly seemed the type to handle his own business rather than let his people do it for him.
Apparently, his advisors thought it better to keep things quiet so as not to start a panic. They were convinced that they could track down the killer through a less heavy-handed method. Whether that was right or wrong, was not her place to decide. She had her own duties to attend to, one of which being to listen and report such news to the world at large.
The portcullis rose above her head and she gently urged her steed, a mare by the name of Moire, onward. Pod waved as she left him and the castle behind to once again descend into the city proper.
“Safe travels, milady,” he said.
“Lady’s blessings upon you, Pod.”
She pulled up the hooded cloak she wore to avoid unnecessary attention. Thankfully the folk around her were much too busy with their own lives to stop and stare at the woman riding by. It wasn’t unusual in a city of this size to see the occasional rider, and most of the residents knew especially that if it was a woman riding a pure white steed, they best not get in her way.
Rozena didn't often shy away from attention and conversation. One of her many duties was to spread the word of the Lady to all who would listen. However, her other duties as a daughter-errant superseded that mission today, especially in the wake of the viscount’s death.
As a daughter-errant it was her purpose to wander the land, doing as the Lady bid her to. It was a much different assignment from the girls assigned to the castles, cities, and shrines that were spread all across the kingdom. That penchant for travel also made it her purpose to learn of local issues wherever she went. When trouble came about in the areas she frequented, it was her sworn duty to seek out and find those she believed capable enough to solve the problem.
In its ideal form, Rozena’s search would lead her to a capable paladin, or a group if truly lucky. Alas, with how spread out the Duchy of Isen’s cities and peoples were, paladins were exceedingly rare on this side of the frontier. Which meant she would have to break camp in Adelgard and head either west toward the Duchy of Guinne, or to the northwest where the dukedom of Ionad sat. Both of which would be a far and uncomfortable ride, but the death of such a high-ranking noble was not something to be ignored.
So focused was Rozena on her way through the busy streets, that she almost missed the sight of gleaming plate armor. The glint of the steel beneath the sun’s rays caught her eye as her steed trotted along. It was only thanks to her elevation from the crowd that she caught it at all. Most interestingly, the knight wore heraldry from a part of the dukedom much further north than Adelgard.
She recognized him as a vassal knight to the Duke of Isen without even needing the Sight. The capital of Isenfell was an area she found herself passing through often, and the various heraldries all shared similar iconography of the stag. It was often the best place to find capable knights traveling through the dukedom, and if a paladin were to appear somewhere, it would most often be near there. Rozena wondered to herself what might have brought such a knight down south to a place like this.
Sir Tomas Sigein
Knight
Familiar and Blessed
His name offered her little insight about what he might have been doing in Adelgard. The new viscount, Alphonse Lathurn, didn’t tell Rozena whether or not he had summoned help already. She doubted it. The son of the previous viscount seemed content to sit on the issue until he was ready to act according to his own plans.
Curious, she decided to follow this knight. Even if he couldn’t offer help with the viscount’s situation, he may have his own quest in the south. If so, she would like to hear about it.
Rozena followed this knight until he disappeared inside a tavern or inn of some description. ‘The Stinking Stag’, what a charming name. That wouldn’t be enough to scare her off though. She gracefully dismounted and spoke a few calming words to Moire. Her steed would stay put without any lead for it was a bonded animal. Every daughter received one after her training finished in Avalon.
Like a shadow, she slipped into the place of music and drink. Contrary to her sisters that found themselves assigned to one place, often in high society, Rozena wore clothing more suited for the common quarter. She wouldn’t stand out much in a crowd unless someone got a good look at her face.
Glowing green eyes aside, every daughter had sipped from the grail and through it gained a unique vitality that made them appear youthful for decades longer than a normal human. Their hair remained voluminous and bright, skin soft and free of blemishes. Most would call it a privilege and a gift, but such looks did make it a struggle sometimes to connect with the people around her.
Rozena watched the knight go to a table off to the far end of the establishment. It was a little alcove far from the rowdiness of the front of the house. She made her way toward the back to get a better look. From experience, she knew men of his kind rarely traveled alone. Perhaps a knight of even greater standing might be there. It could be she wouldn’t have to travel far at all to solve Adelgard’s problem.
She could see the table better now. There were many more than she expected, actually. It was a pleasant surprise for once. Rozena counted four knights with a glance, all seated at a round table, drinking and eating. Their squires stood out handily with their clothing covered in the livery of the knights they served. They were seated at a table close by, enjoying their own meals.
There was one more she noticed, sandwiched between two knights. At first, she didn’t notice him because he lacked the armor and size of his compatriots. But as soon as she saw a hint of him through the talking heads, she felt something. A sense of familiarity. Deep in her mind, the fey magic of the Lady and Rozena’s own instincts told her this was someone on her side. A fellow being of magic, a user of the Sight.
The instinct drew her closer to the table without her even noticing. He wore no livery or heraldry and in fact his clothing was just as plain as hers, if not more. Yet he sat among the knights as if one of them? Strange.
Rozena used the Sight to look at the one she identified now as a young man.
Alistair, of Wyrdwood
Supplicant | Aegis 2
Recognized & Blessed
Her excitement dimmed a bit when she noticed that he was a mere supplicant rather than a full paladin. She allowed herself to sigh and recover from the sensation that had once overwhelmed her. Still, despite his lower status, he had survived long enough to improve his synchronicity with his mantle piece. That was more than many could claim to have accomplished.
It was among this group that she picked out their leader. She actually recognized Earl Druim right away. He was a regular in the capital as one of Duke Isen’s most favored vassals. That sense of relief returned quickly as she believed this man might be just the person to help her.
Rozena made her presence known by crossing the threshold into their personal space. They all turned to look as she removed her hood and revealed her identity as a Daughter of the Lady. The knights stiffened in reverence and one even whispered a prayer to the Lady herself.
“My lady, what can our humble band do for you?” The earl bowed his head.
She passed her eyes over the men assembled there. Yes, they would do. Rozena ended on the supplicant, Alistair of Wyrdwood. The boy looked nervous but eager to prove something. His relic token glowed with excitement. Yes, he would do alright as well.
“Dear champions of chivalry, heed my words. For I come to you with a quest most dire. It will require only the best defenders of all that is Good. Will you listen?”