Knights of the Realm ch. 4: Lies, Deceit, and Hidden Secrets

[Toastburner B]

Well, this is just dandy! Nathaniel thought to himself. Somewhere along the line, he had been seperated from the other Knights.

And now he found himself facing off against a trio of Englasians.

Somewho...he didn't really mind that part. Not after the memories that had been rekindled.

His scythe moved so fast he could tell the barbarians had trouble keeping track of it. So fast the first Englasian didn't even have time to look surprised as the unnaturally sharp blade cleaved him in half. The surviving Englasians were clearly shaken. These ones had apparently been enjoying the high life of the king's guard a little too much. They were slow, weak, and wholely disappointing...at least compared to the warrior horde Nathaniel faced a year ago, or even a days ago in the circus.

Still, a lame Englasian is still a capable warrior. The two came at him, each wielding a sword. Nathaniel ducked one swipe and parried the next with the metal shaft of his sycthe, then had to manuver his scythe again to block the next blow. The Englasians were striking so fast and wildly that Nathaniel had to focus on blocking.

They are trying to herd me. Nathaniel thought to himself. But towards what?

Soon, Nathaniel had his answer. The hallway grew smaller the farther back he went. I won't have room to swing my scythe in here. Nathaniel thought. Then he smiled.

If the Englasains thought that depriving him of his scythe made him less dangerous, they were about to be sorely disappointed.

Jumping back, Nathaniel threw his scythe. The weapon made a low whistling sound as it cut through the air. The Englasians ducked, and unconciously turned to watch the blade. They recovered in seconds.

But seconds were all Nathaniel needed.

As the barbarians turned around and started to stand, each saw a blur of flesh and metal, and felt their throats open. They turned again, saw Nathaniel, a kama in each hand.

Then they died at the same time.

Nathaniel cleaned his weapons on the clothing of the fallen barbarians, then rushed towards the throne room. The guards outside where already dead, and as Nathaniel entered, he saw Damion and a bleeding Thomas, clearly hurt.

Nathaniel stopped. No...it's not the wounds that are hurting Thomas...

Thomas' usually clear eyes were now read. And his face tried to hide a grief that Nathaniel knew only too well.

"Thomas," Nathaniel said, walking over to the man. "What happened? What did Roland do to you?"

[wilysword]

Adin frowned at the now solid wall behind him. "A book? I think I saw one in this weapons room, now that you mention it." He went back inside and, sure enough, Gai's book was sitting on a dusty shelf among all the weapons. "Odd place for it," he muttered as he came back out. "Maybe the Englasians don't see a difference between magic and weapons." Handing the book to Gai, Adin said, "I need to find the others. Obviously you can take care of yourself, but you can come with me or find your own way out."

Without waiting for an answer, Adin walked off quickly, but not so quickly that Gai couldn't easily catch up.

[Overcast]

He pulled up a newly reborn potion. It cost a bit of the blood he had on him but it was enough. He picked up the bird and took a feather off the bottomof the cage. He inserted it into the potion and poured it on the ground. It skittered for a it but began to trek off, "Comrad this way." He began to follow it he wasn't very far but he wasn't alone. He pulled up his club as he rounded the corner to the room the liquid entered. He readied to hit the men standing next to Thomas, but was able to see the various marks that said who they were. He looked up at thier leader and he began a soft growl from the look in his eyes. The pain. He put up Nature's prayer of suffering and released him, "The world has been seen as the new age blessens you, so long and good night, come along good knight." he took some more blood and turned it green like that he had fed Damion. "Drink, it wll cure the pains of the body if not the mind, and I'm sure the pains may want to be kept." he tured to the blob and looked around the room. "Final mission buddy find any person living who has had contact with me," as it left he turned back, "we have some time before the knights come perhaps we can plan."

[Fuzzydoom]

"We need an army. I've been thinking, if this king isn't really the king, then where the hell is the real king? I say we head to our home provinces, round up as many fighting men as we can, then help the true king round up as many soldiers loyal to the true crown as possible. But first we'll have to save him, of course." Damion's eyes glint in the torch light, his anger threatens to boil over. He feels the red film that marks the coming of his berserker side.

[Raiden]

Thomas took the potion, but before drinking it, he turned to Nathaniel. His good eye was still red from tears, his other eye clenched tight from the wounds.

"King Roland did nothing. His brother, he did something to me. He took both something, and someone, away from me. I don't want to talk about it right now. All you need to know, is that we have a similar pain now."

Thomas took the potion, and chugged it down. He felt his strength return to his body. His limbs began to feel warm. He stood up, and shook out some of the soreness. He reached down and grabbed his armor, and began to buckle it all into place. As he did that, he looked down at Damion.

"Get off the ground, Damion. It feels weird having a man on his knees in front of me."

Thomas felt better with his armor on. He hadn't worn it since they hid in the circus, and it just felt...right to have it on again. He began to attach the hilts of his swords to his hips.

"And Damion, did you honestly think that it would be a good idea to go back to our old Provinces? Grant, the imposter, sent assassins after us for the sole reason to draw us to him. He knew we were each going to leave our provinces without a Knight to defend it. Don't you think that he would have sent out soldiers to take over our provinces? Each of our homes are probably a war zone right now. And sadly, this is not the time to go out and get ourselves stuck in the middle of a bunch of battles."

Thomas looked at the few sullen faces there.

"Come on, our citizens are much stronger than they were last year. Hell, we all trained armies in case something big happened again. They should be able to hold out for a while."

With his swords fastened, Thomas held his arm out. Samuel hopped up and perched on his shoulder. It gave a little cry, and nudged Thomas's face with his beak.

Thomas reached down to his last piece of armor, his Hawk Helmet, and placed it securely over his head. His mouth and eyes were all that could be seen now, and his eyes were beginning to turn grey, like they always did when he was about to fight.

"Our top priority now, though, is to gather everyone, and get our asses out of here."

[Fuzzydoom]

Damion heads off back towards the dungeons, over his shoulder he calls "I'm off to find as many of the knights as I can, I'll meet you back here in an hour." He heads down the stairs, staying alert for signs of trouble.

[Overcast]

"Do not worry my little blob will take care of that," he said grabbing Damion, "The best idea right now is to wait, they will see him, he does something very distracting to make sure they know he's there." he smiles down at him. The smile was false but he tried to hide it. "And if you even attempt to go against my will I will be knocking you out for presevation alone."

[Fuzzydoom]

"Hmmm, have I angered you my friend? If so I apologize, I shall wait." Damion moves to a niche in the wall where he can view events in the hall without being seen immediatly.

[Astral Harmony]

Adellah joined them shortly thereafter. "Oh, good. It wasn't an enemy." She gestures down the way she came. "Some weird glob thing pointed me to go this way. I thought it was a slime but I figured it was one of your weird tricks. Slimes don't hang around populated places these days."

Adellah then turned to Thomas. "I did some scouting while I was looking for a way out. The security that was so tight before we got here is now somewhat lax since we were captured. Not so many archers ready to fling arrows down upon us from the fortified walls that surround us. It's probably our easiest, if not our only, chance of getting out of here now. How we'll leave Incrad itself...I still don't have a plan yet. Maybe one of the gates will be less guarded than the others."

[Lycanthrope]

And the battle raged. The Hunter was faster than any human could ever be, and Devon had already been handicapped by his several injuries.

But Devon was a Swordmaster, and a Knight of the Realm. Once he had accounted for the gray figures speed, he could anticipate his opponent's motions several attacks in advance, and compensate.

But it wasn't easy.

Parry low, he thought, His next shot will be for the leg followed by one for the chest. He moved into a position, blocking the first and then twisting his body a few degrees quickly blocking the second, then flung backwards.

He watched his opponent carefully judging the man's stile as he fought on. The man was heavy on the attack, light on defense. Perhaps I can exploit this, he thought, blocking another blow and steping in closer than he had gotten before, Driving his slightly lighter opponent back by the sheer force of his body, then, with all the force in his body pushed forward on the hilt with his right hand and pulled back with his left, creating a powerful lever, and flinging forcibly into the air his foe. The gray man took it in stride, acrobatically flipping back and landing on the wall with his legs bent, before springing forward, sword in front on a full defensive flying charge towards Devon's heart.

Now! he thought, assuming a seemingly completely offensive possition himself, leaving his right side completely exposed. The man was fast, but could only travel through the air so fast. Devon calculated time till that shining blade would pierce him, and waited for the the eternity of that fraction of a second as the world seemed to slow around him.

It would be a trade. A favorable trade, but a trade nonetheless. At the last possible moment, Devon suddenly dropped his stance, lowering his body beneath the projectile Hunter's. As he expected, the man was fast enough to adjust his attack, but not fast enough to adjust it lethally, at least not before Devon thrust Fang, forcefully at a fourty five degree into the left side of his opponent's body cavity. But the would the Hunter's sword did inflict... He felt the sword clip one shoulder, and felt it's silver-coated blade easily burn through his flesh. And then he felt something different, as if his very blood was being drawn from his body by the weapon. But then it passed by him, and his opponent was being held in the air by the blade, who's tip was now sticking out of the gray man's back. With a twist of body, Devon allowed the Hunter's momentum to continue in its original direction before redirecting it downward into the ground.

He looked at the the broken body of his opponent on the floor for a moment, his sword in hand, before he judged that he could not have survived. Most of his rib cage would have shattered with his impact in the ground, and the blade should have pierced a major artery, and had judging by a pool of blood now spreading away from the corpse on the floor. Devon was about to turn and leave, but then the man groaned and began standing up. "I see... I have once again... underestimated you..." he said standing up, with a twisted, wincing smile. "Thank you for the taste," he said, his smile widening to reveal sharp teeth as he dipped his sword into the pool of his own blood, which quickly seemed to be accorbed into the blade. Still smiling the man began hobbling down a corridor and around a corner as Devon gaped after him.

He shuck himself off suddenly and himself and ran after his foe around the corner to encounter... nothing, no trace at all of a man in a gray cloak.

Another time then, he thought, turning and walking back in the dirrection of his cell. He felt weak. He knew he had lost a lot more blood than a single minor cut could account for.