Clang, Clang, Clang. “Wake up you bastards! I want everyone up in half an hour ready for training!” Shouted Sir Kimith, banging on his shield. He was one of the five knights at the camp to train for the next Knight of Hammerfest. There were three hundred people testing to become the next Knight of Hammerfest and only two will be chosen. A dame and a knight. One hundred fifty men and one hundred fifty women. Each trainee must be at least twenty-five winters old and must have lived in the Kingdom of Hammerfest for twenty years to participate in this deadly, intense challenge that awaits.
One young man whose name was Agnar, son of Sir Randolph, was amongst the three hundred. Ever since he was a boy, he wanted to become a knight, like his father, and now is his chance. He just turned twenty five only a week before The Choosing. This great event only occurs every twelve years, so if Agnar fails, he fails himself and possibly even his father.
Agnar, like many others, was awakened by the loud clang. His blue eyes immediately glanced towards his new shiny Knight Trainee Armor. It was silver, bright and well kept. At the center of the breastplate was Hammerfest’s beloved emblem. It was a beautiful bright red with a well designed golden hammer pointing downwards. Smiling and excited, Agnar walked out of his tent like the many other trainees. There were two long rows of tents. One side were the men and the other side were the women. In the center of the two rows were three massive tents that served as a kitchen.
It was a cool misty spring morning. The birds flew up in the sky, chirping their songs. There were a few bugs here and there, but nothing unbearable. As Agnar walked closer to the cooking area, he saw a familiar face.
Agnar waved and, with a smile, cheerfully spoke; “Ferris! How has it been?”
Ferris Kirk, son of Elmer, who was a well skilled smith, turned around and saw an old friend. As he turned, Agnar saw a spark in his green eyes. Ferris walked up to Agnar and hugged him in a brotherly way. Ferris then spoke, saying; “Alright, I guess. I haven’t been doin’ much. Just the same boring stuff. I'm surprised they let me in for the test. I guess it's ‘cause they know my father? I don’t know. He walked in with me and boasted to Sir Clovis, so he’s got high expectations for me.”
Agnar chuckled a bit. “Oh no. I’m sure you’ll be fine though. Which one was Sir Clovis? I can’t seem to remember them all…”
Ferris nodded. He then answered Agnar’s question.“Sir Clovis is usually on his beautiful white horse. He named her Celetus. I think it's elvish for speed. I know he’s a half-elf and, if I remember correctly, he’s from the once elvish city over by Night Woods called Kimpton.”
“Oh, yes, Kimpton. I’ve been there before. The people there are quite friendly. It's not necessarily an elvish city as it was years and years ago. It's quite inclusive and serves as a safe haven for those who are in great need. The people who run the town are elvish for the most part. Or at least last time I was there. Aren't there rumors of Hammerfest buying the city?”
Ferris nodded his head. “Yes, and there’s also rumors of Kimpton attempting to become a neutral, independent city. I think they’re also willing to ally with both the Elvish Kingdom, Morthis, and Hammerfest. Anyway, let's get us some food before it's too late. I hope it's something actually good and not brown, mushy slop.”
The two friends jogged to the nearest kitchen tent. They waited in the line and slowly, one by one, everyone was receiving their breakfast. As soon as they got their, they found a mostly empty table and sat down. There were three other people at the end of the table neither of them recognized. The food they were given was wonderful, having bacon and fried eggs as well as a juicy red apple. As they were eating, Ferris discussed how his father expects him to become the next blacksmith at his forge named The Hammer’s Domain, that is if he fails knight training. There are more forges with the same name all throughout the Kingdom of Hammerfest all officially owned by one person. The owner of The Hammer’s Domain is an old, fat man, about seventy or so, named Strik McCoy. In his younger days, he used to be a strong, respected man known for his craftsmanship. Now Strik drowns in his wealth.
Ferris informed Agnar that when he was about five winters old and younger, they lived in the desert southern region known as Korr (Agnnar didn’t know this, surprisingly, even though he’s known Ferris since he was twelve. Agnar knew he moved from somewhere, but never bothered asking.). His family came from the capital city named Korthrin, known for their military strength and loyalty to those that are considered friends. The city is also known to have very little crime compared to others and has the unusual usage of a democratic government instead of kings. It was there his father began smithing and decided to journey the world with his newfound skill. Although he stopped traveling when he was hired in The Hammer’s Domain.
The people who live at Korthrin are known for their darker skin, black hair and the most common eye color being blue. Culturally the people there are known to be quite forgiving, believing that issues of the past cannot be an issue for the present. Their most influential philosopher, Khan the Wise, believed things of the past can influence today, but must not be the reason why we take certain actions. They believe that the past is a tool for the future. It is used to learn from mistakes, to see why certain ideas work while others do not, and to study why ideas are considered good or bad.
Hammerfest is somewhat similar to Korthrin. Hammerfest, however, is a monarchy, having King Ivor the Bold instead of nine elected officials that vote for laws. The King does use knights as advisors occasionally, but mainly as war advisors instead of one who would recommend laws and ceremonies. However, King Ivor does not solely act by himself. He has official advisers, who do not only serve as advisers, but some are either landlords or have some form of scholarship.
Knights in the kingdom of Hammerfest are trained to be tacticians and highly skilled and respectable warriors. They are taught how to deal with certain threats, from sieges to frontline combat to riots and other forms of policing.
Training on the first week was a simple review, checking that everyone knew how to use a sword, an axe, a bow, and a few other simple weapons. There was also a basic review on very simple battle tactics that the majority of the people understood. The first week was mainly used to figure out who has been bribed into the contest and who actually knew how to properly fight. After each week, the knights begin grading, for you are graded on fighting positions, stances, what you would do if a certain battle tactic was used against you, ect. Not everything in knight training was hands-on. Some of them were tests on pen and paper that required frequent reading and studying from books. Such books were Battles of The Ages written by the dwarven historian Klok, which was a book that studied battle tactics used in some of the most famous battles in Morris. Battles of The Ages was a rather large book, having nine hundred fifty pages and two inches thick. It would take them five weeks to read the whole thing, and in their sixth week there would be a test reviewing the entire book.
Another book Agnar and all the others studied in the first week was a rather small book named The Silent Army written by Captain Kork, who too was a hill dwarf from the Iron Kingdom, which is located in the southern regions. After his victory at the Battle of Rocky Plains in the year 228 in the 2nd Age, which is known as the Age of Heros, Captain Kork wrote the book. He wrote about how he stealthful overthrew an orc army of four hundred with only about three hundred soldiers in half an hour with only three dwarven deaths and fifteen injured. It was a very interesting read, Agnar thought.
Although the first week was easy for Agnar, and surprisingly no one was removed from training yet, things began to become a little more difficult in weeks two and three for Agnar. The training knights then began to learn a multitude of battle tactics that were far more complicated than just a small, simple shield wall. An example would be how to handle a siege that lasts longer than a year or how to think clearly under pressure. Knights had to not just be a protector to the King, but had to know all forms of battle tactics and be able to predict the movement of the enemy.
Knights were also given a text book that gave images of the battle tactic as well as its formation number. Captains and knights alike would shout out a formation number and then a letter right by it. For example, if they were to shout formation A3, it would be a shield wall in a v-shaped formation with spears out. Shields in front of each soldier on the front lines and everyone else had them above their head. There would also be crossbows or bows firing at the enemy while they either march or charge towards them. Soldiers on the side would have their shield facing whichever side needed to be covered. Everyone in the army was to memorize at least twenty of the fifty tactics. Knights were to memorize them all and guide soldiers to the required formation if they don’t know it.
Knights also had to be one of the best swordsmen and marksmen. The average knight is said to be worth at least fifty soldiers. They are taught to be war machines that will obey the King’s orders within reason and advise the King if he were to make a poor decision. Knights additionally were taught to be able to do extreme parkour. One of the trails is a large obstacle consisting of rope climbing, mud crawling, and a three mile sprint with a knapsack containing thirty pounds of brick.
Agnar knew that the challenges would be difficult, but he had confidence, and maybe too much. Because he trained and heard stories from his father’s training since he was about four winters old, he thought all of it would be a breeze. Week four showed him otherwise.
“Good morning everyone. I see that most of you have survived the third week and now we begin our fourth week.”, Sir Kimith began, “Here is the ring. There are several others like it. Each of you will begin dueling each other here and the judges, Sir Harrit, Sir Johson, Dame Asdis, Dame Erica, and myself, will be analyzing each fight. In each ring, there will be groups of six. If we have remainders, they will be placed in their own ring. However, I have a small list of people who will be disqualified.”
The beginning of each week there will be a certain number of people disqualified. Week one, like I told you before, was the only week no one was disqualified. In week two, three were disqualified. Week three had fourteen people disqualified. Sadly Ferris was one of them.
Agnar told Ferris goodbye while Ferris wished Agnar good luck. As they were leaving, a sudden roar was heard from afar. Some looked to the skies, seeing nothing but the gray clouds. The windy weather, which already made it rather difficult to hear commanders, worsened soldiers and trainees alike to pinpoint exactly where the roar came from. Dame Asdis had a shocked and fearful expression, so much so you could see it in her eyes. She opened her mouth and muttered something no one could make out. She cleared her throat and spoke louder with some fear in her voice; “Dragon”, however only the people nearby heard that. They, too, shared the same shocked expression Dame Asdis had. She shouted above the wind and yelled; “DRAGON!”
The camp quickly fell into confusion.
Sir Harrit and Dame Erica ran as quickly as possible to their horses and fled to Hammerfest to warn the King and ask to send reinforcements swiftly. Dame Asdis attempted to prepare the archers to be ready to fire upon the dragons. Captain Winfred, captain of the archer battalion that's preparing to be attacking the dragons, informed her that the camp had no arrows that were able to pierce a dragon’s scale. Sir Kimith simply muttered “And so this is how we die.”. He then raised his voice and turned his head to the nearest knight, being Sir Johnson. “I want the knight trainees out of here! Sir Johnson, I trust you to put them into safety. If there are any -” and with a loud roar he was cut off by his sentence. Sir Johnson nodded his head and swiftly began to notify the trainees to retreat to the capital, Hammerfest. He told them to not group together in groups no larger than three. Luckily for them, Hammerfest was only three miles away, allowing a swift retreat. Although a dragon's wings are much faster that any man’s legs could ever be.
The dragons now were in sight and in range (for they were flying above the clouds and began to dive towards the camp). The archers fired, but were ineffective. There were three dragons. The beasts were of a common breed, being spear dragons. They are a small type of dragon, having only about a 55 foot wingspan as an adult. They have dark blue scales and have two small horns on their head pointing towards the dragon’s back. Their long, sharp eyes have an amber hue to them. The dragon’s tail has a multitude of spikes that are about 5 feet long. Its back is protected with small spikes scattered around it. They have the ability to breathe fierce fires upon their enemy. These creatures are not the strongest nor the brightest dragon either, however they can still be quite a large threat.
On the dragons were elite soldiers wearing black armor, although it is hard to tell their design with the speed of the dragons. Their saddles on the dragons were made of leather and constructed in a certain way to protect their hind ends from the spikes on the dragon.
“Where are the wizards?”, Sir Kimith shouted above the loudness of the diving dragons, screaming and scampering.
“Unknown”, Captain Clare shouted as she awaits for any orders Sir Kimith might tell her.
“They’ll see these foul beasts and assist us, I’m sure of it.”, Sir Kimith assured. “There’s a wizard school at the plateau, which is a little less than four miles west. They’ll be here, or we'll all be dead.”
The dragons began to desolate the camp, burning the tents and the items inside of it along with camp equipment left out and a fifth of the archer battalion was burned to a crisp. While this was all happening, the leader of the three dismounted his dragon.
He wore black armor made of a mixture of the toughest and one of the rarest materials on Morris; darksteel and a strong material known as elbrum. He had a helmet that covered his face. His entire armor was black as night. His fists were like maces, having the sharp edges that one would have, located where his knuckles would be. These sharp blades were made of urfrin, a material slightly stronger than steel. They were only about an inch long each, and only four of these on both of his hands.
The helmet had two jagged spikes in the front, one on the left and the other on the right side of his head. They were about six inches tall and there was another black spike on the back of his head of the same height. The helmet was pointed where the face would be and had the same mace-blade structure where his cheeks would be at. A glass-like material, not fragile, but strong and sturdy, known as malthran, was built where his eyes would be. The malthran was tinted black, causing you to be unable to see the color of his eyes and where he was looking at, although he could see clearly. His tabard was a chainmail armor made of elbrum stained black. From head to toe, he had some form of armor to protect him and no gaps anywhere to be seen.
His dragon does what it does best, causing chaos. Some soldiers tried to charge at it, but found themselves either eaten, burned, or impaled by the spikes of its tail. The beast then proceeds to chase the poor, afraid, retreating soldiers. The leaders of these soldiers attempted to rally them up into formation and give them morale, but to no avail. Hardly any of these troops have ever seen dragons before. Or even war. The last time Hammerfest saw battle it was over thirty years ago.
The dragon’s master then approaches Dame Asdis. A few soldiers charge at him. The dragonrider unsheathes his sword, revealing it to be another darksteel item, with a sharp edge few blades could boast. He cuts through one of the soldier’s stomachs like a hot knife cutting butter. A second soldier swings his sword at the figure, but he deflects the soldier's blade and shatters it in two. The dragonrider backfists the poor soldier's face, breaking his jaw and shattering his facial bones. Before the badly injured soldier falls to the ground, the warrior brings his sword down and cuts through his foe’s throat, beheading him. The third soldier stood still in shock. The dragonrider looks at him and simply walks by him.
Dame Asdis was then left alone. The dragon fended off anyone who tried to help the dame, causing a huge opening in the battle. Seeing that she has no choice, Dame Asdis draws her sword. It was beautiful, having a nice red jewel at the pommel. It shined bright like a light of hope. Agnar, who was separated from his group by a streak of fire, took a sword from a fallen soldier and saw the duel between Dame Asdis and the dragonrider. Agnar also notices that the dragon is busy with a volley of arrows, spears and a small shield wall in front of it. He then looked back at Dame Asdis and began making his way toward her.
The dragon rider swings his blade at Dame Asdis’ throat. She steps back, dodging the attack, and quickly swings her sword at the dragonrider’s side. The blade hits the dragonrider’s armor and shattered it into three. The dragonrider stood there, practically unaffected by Dame Asdis’ attack. There was no scratch on his armor and it seemed to have absorbed the force of the impact. He swings for the head again. Asdis tries to dodge, but her enemy’s sword cuts her left eye. She screams in pain and covers her eye with her left hand. The pain caused her to drop her broken sword. She then quickly takes out her dagger, sheathed on her lower back, using her right hand. However her foe was also quick. With speed and power, the dragon rider cuts her right arm off and then slashes at her side, killing the Dame.
Agnar, in a fit of rage, blindly charges at the dragon rider. The dragon rider disarms Agnar and throws him to the ground. He then hands Agnar a scroll.
With a muffled deep voice, the dragon rider spoke; “Your King has five days. Agree with these terms, or we will set everything you have aflame.”
Agnar attempted to fight the elite soldier another time but as soon as he got back up the warrior simply mound his dragon and flew away. He then began to circle around the camp, continuing destruction.
Agnar then runs to Captain Winfred, who was the closest leader he could get to. Winfred was injured as well. He had his right arm caught on fire during the fight along with a bit of the right side of his neck and most of his right side of the face was burnt as well. His once long, braided, blond hair was burned, creating an ugly bald patch on his right side. He didn’t have much of a beard, but it too was affected by the flame.
With him was a soldier who was also a part of the knighthood test. His name was Gabriel. He had blue eyes and auburn hair. He seemed to be about thirty five winters old. His hair went down to his breast and he had a pointy beard with the same auburn color that also went down to his breast. Gabriel was taking care of the injured captain, bandaging him, giving him water and other needs that Winfred might need. His pale white skin caused the blood of the wounded soldier to be more noticeable. There was also a field medic with him teaching Gabriel how to patch Winfred and other wounded soldiers up. Gabriel already somewhat knew some of the things shown to him but was also shown other medical techniques that he didn’t know. The field medic, being confident enough Gabriel can remember the thing he was shown, left to help the other wounded soldiers.
After the field medic took his leave, Agnar informed the severely wounded captain of the scroll. Winfred then ordered Agnar and Gabriel to go to Hammerfest and deliver the scroll to King Ivor II, King of Hammerfest. One of the soldiers overheard this. Being eager to do something she asked Winfred if she could be of any use. The soldier had her helmet off, for she lost it mid battle. She had wavy black hair that reached just above her breast. The woman had pretty sky blue eyes and had beautiful alabaster skin.
The captain looked at her and told her the following; “I suppose you could help escort Agnar to our King. Gabriel, you have been replaced. You are to continue assisting the wounded. Be swift. All three of you.”
While the captain spoke, you could see the pain he was going through when he opened and closed his mouth. He squinched and winced after each word he spoke. The two left as Gabriel stayed to aid Winfred, recommending him to rest. Agnar and his comrade eventually found two horses for them, however they were occupied by two other soldiers. There was a third soldier awaiting orders, as if they were preparing to send a message. Agnar went up to them and explained their orders to them and asked the two to dismount their horses so that they may travel faster to King Ivor II. One hopped off, but the other soldier was speculative of the situation. Agnar takes out the scroll. He then further explains that he is to personally give it to the King. The soldier understood and immediately gave Agnar the other horse.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
Putting the scroll back in his pocket, Agnar noticed that the scroll was somewhat magical. It had this small, blue magical aura around it that could have easily been missed. He then thought to himself, “This is some serious scroll”, before mounting onto the horse and riding onward to Hammerfest.
As Agnar and his ally rode off, one of the soldiers shouted; “Godspeed with you both! Godspeed.”
As they ride, they see a horse run out of a circle of fire, wearing armor fitt for a knight's horse. Like a knight’s armor, the horse’s armor would have been a white silver with the red symbol of Hammerfest at the peytral. However the fire turned bits and pieces of the armor black and the once white creature is burning with fiery wounds around it. The horse falls and wails a terrible cry as it is left to burn to death.
They then hear the dragon’s wings flapping and the roar of its fiery breath. Agnar looks to the sky in fear, but sees nothing. He then hears the cries of men, being burned alive. Crying for relief, crying for mercy. He hears the muffled order of a captain to fire arrows and the bolt of crossbows shooting them in the sky to no avail.
Agnar then heard another sudden swoop. Again, he looked up to the skies. This time he saw the dragon flying back into the clouds. Agnar had assumed they fled after Dame Asdis’ death. The wings of the dragon, however, moved the clouds and created an opening. What Agnar then saw was the dragon returning with the other two dragons and flying off swiftly, away from Hammerfest. He then prayed that he wouldn’t be seeing them anytime soon.
After a few minutes, they arrive at the gate. A soldier, seeing that they, too, are soldiers, yelled ‘open the gate’ and the sound of cranking gears were heard. As they, Agnar and his companion, whose name was revealed to be Serah, reached the gate, Agnar was tempted to open the scroll and read it before handing it over to His Majesty. He contemplated over this thought as the two continued through all the gates. In the end, Agnar did not read the scroll. In Hammerfest, there are several walls, each being about eighteen feet tall. They all have one gate that leads to the next level. Hammerfest has five levels in total. The King has given thought for expanding the walls, creating a 6th gate, and, in turn, a 6th level, but this idea has never been executed and has only been discussed.
It took a while, waiting for each gate to open, but the two arrived as fast as they could. While they trotted along each gate, Agnar informed Serah that the King had 5 days to comply with whatever the scroll said or there would be total war. The two were already nervous and this simply added more pressure for Serah.
Once they finally rode through the 5th and final gate, they dismounted their horses and bolted to the throne room. However, Serah and Agnar were delayed yet again, this time by one of the elite guards of King Ivor II (King of Hammerfest). The elite guard had two others behind him. One on his left and the other on his right. His claymore, made of pure urfrin, stood tall in front of him. His hands were on the grip of the blade and was ready to attack at a moment's notice. The other two guards behind him had a shield, made of elbrum, a resource that is heavy, but strong and tough. The smaller shields made solely of this material (having the diameter of 7 inches) weigh thirty pounds easily. The shields that the guards are using are rectangular. They are about forty inches tall and would weigh over 150 pounds if it was pure elbrum. A little over a fourth of the shield is made of elbrum. The other is a mixture of urfrin and steel. It only weighs 60 pounds. Not good for marching, but instead designed to withstand large objects battering up the shield. Additionally, the two guards have a sword known as a värd. The sword is about fifteen inches long and has a unique sharp, v-shaped guard.
Their armor was black and sleek and on their breastplate was the Golden Hammer of Hammerfest carved upon it. Their armor had a golden outline all throughout it. The soldier in the middle had the King’s Mark on his right guard brace. The King’s Mark is put on a soldier who has proven great loyalty to the King and is respected by him. It is the highest honor a King can give to his soldiers. It's an outline of a golden sword over a golden shield with the King’s initials for his first and last name. I (for Ivor) and V (for Vengarrson, which means the son of Vengarr, the First King of Hammerfest).
The guard in the center spoke in a deep, authoritative voice, saying; “The King is currently holding a meeting with his knights and council members. If you have any business with him, I am sorry but the King said it would be delayed for tomorrow. I suggest to-”
The guard was interrupted by Serah, who was being quite impatient of being stopped on multiple occasions. “We have orders from Captain Winfred. I realize the King’s orders are higher than his, but this is urgent!” She then points at Agnar. “The scroll that he holds is a declaration of war. The Kingdom of Satus has threatened us. They want complete rule over our Kingdom, which we fight so hard for. According to Agnar, the king has five days. We don’t know what will happen if he doesn't do anything about it in five days, but I’m willing to wager it's something horrible. I beg you to either give this to the king yourself or let us in and give this news to him.”
“You speak bold words,” The elite guard begins. “Hand me the scroll and I shall deal with the issue.”
Agnar hands over the scroll to the elite guard. He then informs him that the scroll has some sort of magic in it. The guard nodded his head, sheathed his claymore, took the scroll and opened it. He reads the scroll to himself carefully and concludes that the two young ones were right. “I shall warn our king of this urgent issue. You are welcome to wait here for any further information, but it may take a while. Also the King may have the information about this to be private and only council members can know of it. So I would suggest running back to wherever you came from and take orders from your commander there.”
The two nodded their heads, thanked the guard and turned around. They mounted their horses and trotted off through the gates. During their travel, Agnar explained that he would be attempting to find the other knight trainees. Serah then told Agnar that she, too, was a part of the training, but she was also a soldier, having to take her posts when she could and accomplish the requirements needed for knight training. Luckily, her captain is flexible with her and the other knight trainees under her command.
While this was happening, the elite guard opened the beautiful massive white, twenty five foot tall door to the King’s Hall. The door was of steel and has carvings of all the kings of Hammerfest’s name on it and how long they reigned.
The King, Ivor II, was sitting on his throne, which was also white. The throne was also elevated from the floor all around it, having four steps to walk up there. Around the throne is a beautiful red carpet. To his right would be where the queen would sit, however she sadly passed away three years ago. Now to his left was the King’s son, and only son, Sigmund, who was about twenty years of age. These seats were, too, white.
Below the nearby King Ivor II was the council. It was two half circles. One end on the left and the other half on the right. From the door to the middle was a walkway to a full circle, with about a five foot radius, carved upon the floor, which resides in the center between the two half circles. Inside the circle was a rune. The rune known as Tyr, the rune of truth and justice.
The room, when the guard walked in, was relatively talkative. The King’s son seemed kind of bored while Ivor was closely listening to the conversation at hand. One of the twelve council members, named Thaddaeus, theorized that a mad wizard ordered the dragons to attack and that it would be wise to stealthily follow them, sending their best wizards. Another named Kimthron the Wise, the oldest on the council, being over seventy winters old, believed that either King Malvor or King Borvan III sent the dragons. Kimthron was also one of the two wizards on the council and believed the attack was too correlated to be randomly sent by a mad wizard.
The elite guard walked to the circle and held out the scroll. The king then signed the council to be quiet. The council obeyed the king’s orders and when they did so, the king spoke.
“Who sent you the scroll, Bolvar?”
“Two soldiers form the camp sent by Captain Winfred. One, whose name is Agnar, stated that one of the three dragon riders had given this scroll to him. The dragonrider said that you had five days or Hammerfest will be burned.” Bolvar, the elite guard answered.
The King nodded his head. “Read it.”
The guard opened the container of the scroll and unfolded it. Bolvar began reading it, saying, “This is a threat from King Malvor of Satus. Your ancestors have raided our lands for too long. I am here to reclaim what truly belongs to the people of the west. You grassland bastards have burned our homes, killed our wives and butchered our children. I highly doubt that you sick people have changed. War is what you know and war is what I give you. I wish to exterminate your kind. This world does not need a warmongering kingdom ruling over the Central Grasslands and beyond.
“If your people have truly become peaceful, then give a third of your kingdom and I shall, in return, give you nothing. I merely ask for a payment for the slain during your Great Grandfather's greedy raids. Peace and goods were not enough. We want land. Land which you’ve stolen from us. Your father may have given us a small portion of what you bastards have taken, but I see through your deception. You only gave a minor fraction of what’s owed to us. Not the complete whole. I’m here to take it all back.
“You may choose to resist. If you do so, I will erase you and the entire bloody area you call home. It will burn. Destroyed. Turned to ash. No one will be left alive. You will feel the wrath of Satus and you will fear us. Hammerfest shall be wiped clean off the map. You will be forgotten and I shall be remembered. We will do exactly what you’ve done to us and more. Too many have died by your hand and I will end it. This is personal and this is payback. Not only that, but I seek for the old days, when these two kingdoms were united. And to do that, we must remove the warmongering, being you. Signed King Malvor, Lord over Satus.”
A council member, whose name was Ursa Kirkdottir, daughter of the once Sir Kirk II, who sadly passed away just last year from an illness. He was replaced by his brother, Sir Kimith (and, if you must know, the King can, on strict occasions, promote either a skilled warrior or a relative of a fallen knight to knighthood, but only on emergencies. This case was deemed as an emergency by His Majesty and The Council. So far Sir Kimith has proven his worth quite well). Ursa spoke quickly after Bolvar, saying, “This is ridiculous. We weren't even the ones who started the century long conflicts we’ve had against each other. We-”
“It's all just a blur for who started the war.” Thaddaeus interrupted Ursa. “All we know, according to what we have written, both kings had a grudge against each other. It's a simple tale of how power corrupts and brother fighting against brother. A war passed down generation to generation. There is no black and white, only gray in this conflict. The best way to deal with it is to most likely go to war the way I see it. We tried peace. It failed.”
An elderly woman named Brenda the Kind asked, “Why can’t we try again? We have empty fields, do we not?”
The King answered her, saying; “We plan to use that for farmland. There’s a small town called Gordonsburg, which lies very close to the fields. I do believe there might be some farmland over the borders that they want. It seems to me that these terms that King Malvor wants are non-negotiable. And it's not only the fields that he wants. He wants the hills south-east of it, which has a small fortress in it, being Fort Kot. And not only does he want some of this land, he wants more and for us to be exterminated.”
Then one of the council members, who was a middle aged dwarf, stood up. He pounded his fist at the table and said; “They broke the treaty between King Thorfin and King Malik! They promised us fifty years and gave us thirty! This is insane and is a sign that we should prepare for WAR! War is what they want, and I know that my cousins and brothers as well as my sisters at Volthorlem will gladly fight these unreasonable vansignar!”
King Ivor II replied to Kopper, the dwarf. “Are we sure this is an act of war or rather a small attack to attempt to frighten us? They know our superiority in strength and by surprising us and demanding us, the King of Satus hopes that he will get his way.”
There was a moment of silence in the council until Bolvar spoke. “Should I inform General Akla to prepare for war?”
The King simply nodded his head and waved his hand to leave. Bolvar bowed and walked up to His Majesty, handing him the scroll. He bowed again and walked twenty paces backwards until turning around. Another guard opened the door and Bolvar left the hall.
As the gate shut, Brenda spoke. “This is madness. Bringing peace with war. There was a time, your highness, that we could peacefully negotiate with them. A time not long ago, your father, King Thorfin spoke with King Malik, Malvor’s father. They agreed to peace, which has lasted us thirty years. You may not remember the negotiation, for you were a wee lad at the time. You and Malvor played with each other while your fathers discussed. What I’m saying is, King Malvor is a sensible man. He, like you, my King, are young and still learning.”
A man named Pauluk Paxton immediately stood up after what Brenda said. He pointed and began to accuse her. “You dare insult the King? Are you saying he’s stupid?!”
The old woman sighed. She opened her mouth to begin to speak, but the King spoke before her. “No Pauluk. She’s simply saying we’re like-minded and are of similar age. Our fathers were also similar, though they did have their differences. I may be 37 winters old, but I still have much to learn. Brenda is over eighty. She’s lived twice the amount of years I’ve lived and more. Malvor and I were, indeed, on good terms.” The King then chuckles to himself. “The letter sure sounds like something he might have made. It's meant to be intimidating and insulting. He wants things to be like it was before the split between our Kingdoms. Now, what I do fear is his good friend Hector the Advisor. I fear that the old man might be manipulating the actions of King Malvor. I do remember my father warning King Malik, Malvor’s father, of his three advisers. He feared that the advisors wanted the downfall of our kingdom and fed lies to King Malik so that he would declare war against us. I’m sure we may be able to discuss King Malvor peacefully with the other kings. Thaddaeus, does this scroll have any magical things to it?”
Thaddaeus looked at His Highness. “May I please hold it?”
“Yes you may. Come, you may now approach the throne.” The King sat as Thaddaeus stood up and walked to him. He knelt and bowed his head. King Ivor II extended his hand with the scroll. The wise wizard looked up and saw the scroll. He took it and paced twenty steps backwards (for this is the amount that it takes for one to walk back to the middle of the circle). He then went to his seat, which was the middle seat on the table to the King’s left. The wizard opened it and began to examine it. After a minute or two, Thaddaeus informed the King that there were five lines on the scroll that the King could write in for his response. There is most likely another scroll that is identical to this one and will copy whatever is written on it. The King thanked Thaddaeus and asked to have the scroll back. Using magic, the wise wizard caused the scroll to levitate to the King. The King grabbed it and then realized he needed a quill. He stood up from his throne and went to the left side of the council table. He opened the scroll and placed it onto the table. Thaddaeus cast a duplication spell for another chair and placed it down for His Majesty. The old wizard then said the chair would disappear in an hour. The King nodded and sat down in it. He then asked for a quill, which was immediately given to him by Avis, who sat by King Ivor. She was a blond haired woman with beautiful amber eyes and a honey skin tone. She’s also a shy person who rarely talks, but is just as important on the council as the others. The King thanked her and began to write.
The following words were written by King Ivor the Bold of Hammerfest to King Malvor the Powerful of Satus;
I, King Ivor II, have read this scroll and have decided to have a meeting with you and the other kings in this realm over the matter of war. We have treaties with the Elvish Kingdom Morthis that if they were to go to war, we would support them. The same can be said the other way around. I know for a fact you have the same sort of treaty with King Borvan III of Bolvis. Not only do I have a treaty with the nearby elves, but the dwarves of Volthorlem. I want to talk to you face to face over this serious matter. We shall discuss this at the Council of Kings in two weeks from today. I hope to see you there. Signed, King Ivor II of Hammerfest.
After writing this, he stood up from the chair and informed everyone that he would be leaving for the knight training camp to see the damage done. There were attempts by many of the council to speak to the King about his decision, but Ivor silenced them. The King also informed his advisors to send messages to all the kings of the realm to meet in two weeks and that it's urgent, regarding a massive war. He then stood up and walked to the giant door, which was opened before him. Three elite guards then stood by his side, one the left, another to his right and the last behind him. He went to his stable, which was very close, and mounted his beautiful white horse. Its mane was black and so were its beady eyes. Her name was Luna, one of the fastest horses in Hammerfest. Charles of Ashton, one of His Majesty’s personal elite bodyguards, had the fastest horse. Charles’ horse was brown and had a black mane. His name was Dusty, which was given to him because of the immense amount of dust created when he sprints.
After mounting the horse, the King’s squire, Thomas, appeared with His Majesty’s sword. The King took it and strapped it around his waist. All that was visible was the hilt of the blade, concealed in a brown leather sheath. The sword was about thirty inches long and its grip had the same leather as the sheath. At the pommel of the King’s sword was a ruby, shiny and bright. The king drew his sword and began inspecting it. It was kept sharp and clean, just as the King wanted it. At the fuller of the sword, rues were carved upon it. They were dwarven runes, for long ago a dwarf forged the sword and carved its name onto it which read ‘Skarpur’, which is ‘King’s Blade’ in dwarvish. The same dwarf gifted it to King Burald, the War King. The sword was bestowed to the King of Hammerfest for generations and now lays in King Ivor’s hands. He thanked Thomas and sheathed the weapon. He turned to his three elite guards and ordered them to follow him. Charles of Ashton was directly behind the king, a young half dwarf woman named Salma, whose mother originated from Korr and father from Volthorlem, and Harith, a strong bulky middle aged man, was also with the King. With their horses, the four were able to travel to the camp quickly. Sir Kimith greeted the King and informed him that the situation was very serious.
“I see that Sir Harrit and Dame Erica informed you of the current situation. We-”
“I never saw the two.” King Ivor II interrupted. “Instead two soldiers, sent by Captain Winfred, told me what happened.”
“I see, my Lord. The people who witnessed and survived the attack, such as myself, believe that the dragon riders were wearing darksteel armor. It didn’t help that we didn’t have the proper arrows to pierce dragon scales.” Sir Kimith replied. “We are still gathering the dead and treating the wounded. Over thirty of our soldiers were killed and over fifty were injured. Dame Asdis is amongst the dead. From the information I’ve gathered, it seemed two of the dragons landed while one stayed in the skies, burning our troops.”
The King frowned. “I thought that this was a warning. Not an act of war.”
As King Ivor II and Sir Kimith spoke, a soldier ran up to the two. He knelt and then spoke. “Your Highness, the bodies of Sir Harrit and Dame Erica were found. Dame Erica was beheaded and Sir Harrit was burned and stabbed in the chest. Their horses have vanished. The dragons most likely ate them, my lord.”
“Thank you for the news soldier.” Sir Kimith replied. “Where was the exact location of their bodies?”
“About five miles east from the First Gate and two miles away from us.”, The soldier answered.
“Head back to your captain and do what he tells you to do. Dismissed.”
The soldier stood up, saluted by placing his right fist firmly upon the left side of his chest, and ran off. “We should go to where Sir Harrit and Dame Erica fell,” the King said. He then rode his horse there along with Sir Kimith and the King’s three elite guards. Once the four arrived they saw two battle clerics wearing their white robes. Over these white robes was a shiny chestplate with the Golden Hammer of Hammerfest carved upon it. The front of their helmets are outlined with scarlet red, which allows wounded soldiers to see and indicate battle clerics from afar easier. There was also a priest taking care of two deceased bodies. A white blanket was over the bodies and one was wrapped around Dame Erica’s head and placed upright where her head would have been.
Around the area where the two knights died, there were the burnt remains of grass. It was black and gray and formed a large circle. Blood was stained on the grass where the knights died during the battle.
The priest was holding a holy symbol known as a Rubin Cosa with his right hand, holding it out in front of him. The Rubin Cosa was a wooden circle with four wooden lines. One at the top of the circle, one on the left, another at the right and the final line at the bottom. These lines lead to the center where a reddish orange jewel known as a fire opal rests. The symbol is used by a priest when a warrior dies in battle. It is said to help their spirits travel to the golden halls of Valaheim by showing the battle angels, who are known as the Arenquell, that a brave warrior died here.
The priest continuously walked around the slain knights, holding the Rubin Cosa and chanting “O gods, bless these souls who fought valiantly for our king. They served bravely and well and I pray that you would hear my cry, oh battle gods of old! Send them to your kingdom where their souls may dwell in service with you, oh gods up high. Let these warriors become soldiers of your holy army above, O Good Lord Arod, King of the Gods.”
The King stayed mounted on his horse and was silent. His guards removed their helmet and held it with their left arm. With their right arm, they pounded their fist upon their chest and kept it there, saluting the fallen knights. Sir Kimith did not have a helmet, so he went straight to the salute. When this happened the priest stopped chanting and bowed his head towards the bodies of Sir Harris and Dame Erica. The two battle clerics removed their helmets and did the same, standing behind the priest. One to his left and the other to his right. After this respectful moment of silence, the King spoke.
“Twelve years ago, these two warriors proved their ability to become a knight and were given the titles of Sir and Dame. They served myself and the landlords well. Sir Harrit prevented a small riot that happened in Kimpton. Their governor was almost killed on a few occasions and brought this problem up to me. I allowed Sir Harrit to take care of the problem, and he did so successfully with zero casualties on both sides. He discovered that the people of Kimpton were, as Sir Harrit put it, ‘exploited to the point where they could not buy a simple necessity such as bread’. He negotiated with Dofri, the governor of Kimpton at the time, and prevented an uprising and caused many to become happy and live better lives.
“Dame Erica was kept stationed here at Hammerfest. She would be used as back up, if it were ever needed. Luckily it was never needed until now. And now, she has left us. Her soldiers that were under her command will need a replacement. So will Sir Harrit`s. Now I see that the Kingdom Satus wishes for war and plans on scattering our leaderless soldiers around so that they may easily overthrow our home. They know that the more knights they kill, the less effective ones will replace them. However, we are the Sons of Hammerfest, born with warrior’s blood. We can adapt and we will adapt to these losses. More losses will come, and through battle more soldiers will prove themselves to become leaders. These soldiers will become Knights or join my elite force and they shall replace what was lost. However, a soul cannot be replaced. These two have done their jobs and were called to the Golden Halls up high, and I pray that we all shall do our jobs and do it well. May their souls rest in peace.”
The King took one last look at the bodies. He showed no sadness or grief to the situation. Instead King Ivor II looked more… disappointed. He had a slight frown and began scratching his brown, bushy beard thoughtfully. The King seemed to be in deep thought. He then turned his head to the camp. He sighed and moved his horse, which began trotting to the tents. His guards put back their helmets and followed their King. Sir Kimith, however, dismounted his horse. He then turned to the King, who had his back on him, and then asked, “My lord, permission to stay?”
The King, who did not look back toward Sir Kimith, answered him; “You may stay and assist the priest with the burial.”
The knight bowed. “Thank you, my King.” Sir Kimith then arose and walked to the priest and began talking with him while the King continued his way to the camp.