Knights of the Platinum Dragon: A D&D Story

Chapter 17: Tales Old and New, Part I

Logan's shirt was still very slightly damp as he slipped it on – he had waited as long as he could for it to dry out, but if he gave it anymore time, he feared he might be late. Romain had invited them all to dinner, and there was barely enough time to wash himself and his clothes... especially after he'd fallen asleep in the room the chamberlain had given him!

Logan didn't remember how it happened. One moment he was sitting down to polish his armour after the battle, and the next he was opening his bleary eyes with his brain as foggy as a winter morning.

He was kicking himself even now as he pulled on his shirt, trousers and boots, the latter of which were still rather scuffed for a formal dinner, but it was the best he could do for now. Pulling his clothes straight and only barely remembering to buckle on his sword belt, he then hurried for the dining hall, thanking Bahamut he had taken the time to locate it before he had been shown to his room after remembering Romain was hoping to speak to them over dinner.

That made him feel only slightly above a complete moron, though. He had to do better... he had to be better.

Chateau Toussaint's great hall was located in the west wing of the keep, and Logan's stress gave way to both relief and alarm when he saw he was the only one here, walking into a sphere of silence when he was expecting conversation. Fiery orange rays from the setting sun shone through ornate windows on one of the walls to illuminate the long table of polished oak the dominated the centre of the chamber. The room was as tall as it was wide, with galleries high set above the main floor for musicians and troubadours to play and sing from, and on two of the walls hung great tapestries - one above the raised stone dais where the master of the castle would sit at feasts, and another running along the wall opposite the windows.

The works of weaving were slightly faded and fraying at the corners, but still a sight to behold. Logan's golden eyes were first drawn to the one above the dais, for that was the first thing he had seen at all when he first stepped in. It depicted the throes of a raging battle, where a cavalry charge from knights in shining armour, their shields and the banners on their lances depicting their coats-of-arms, crashed into a horde of muscle-bound barbarians dressed in horned helms and skins – human skins, specifically, stitched into cloaks and other ghastly garments, the banners their warriors carried daubed in hideous patterns of red and black.

Logan looked on, alarmed by the obvious horrors of these barbarian peoples and internally cheering on the knights for their victory as though he was there in the moment as a wave of excitement rushed through him, for all the world as if he were a child reading about this battle in a book. However, his boyish excitement was punctuated with alarm when a voice said "The Battle of Cendrefeu Pass."

Twisting around, Logan looked down the dining hall to see Romain walking calmly towards him, dressed in all his heraldic finery – a scarlet doublet with the white and silver charger of his family sewn across his chest, with his own sword belt of fine leather ringing his slender waist. His rich gold curls, which grew far longer than Logan's own black hair, was tied back from his temples into a half-ponytail by a rich crimson ribbon. The youth was slim even when in his armour, but now he looked as lithe as a racing greyhound – lean and lacking in muscle, but active and fit all the same.

Greeting his host with a smile, Logan glanced up at the tapestry and asked "Is that what this depicts?"

"Indeed." Romain replied. "Sixty years past, the Hendrigal barbarians who live north of Milisevre, in the Guthmere Wastes, were raiding into our lands, carrying off loot, food and women while leaving nothing but corpses in their wake. Our armies rode out to face them, and the Hendrigal War ended at this battle, where the Knights of Milisevre smashed through their lines and drove the barbarians back from whence they came!" he declared proudly, beaming as bright as the sunlight they saw the artwork by.