The Outlaw Book 1: The Rebirth of Oak Blood

Chapter 1: The Start

I look through that old journal of mine, I remember every detail of the last day I read and I can't help but have a single tear role down my cheek. But those days are gone, I live alone now, on the very outskirts of Snowhold. Its been twelve years and my fathers last words still haunt me, 'Go to Storms Light.' 'Go to Storms Light', and what have I done? Nothing I sat around in a rundown abandoned shack, fighting off bandits every now and again.

I feel like I've failed my father, I had just given up and sat on the old straw bed, when I heard it.

"Knoc, Knock, Knock"

I grab the sword off the table, open the door sword raised when I find a friendly face. It's Throkin, the old miller down the hill. Throkin was once a younger man when the town was attacked by Bandits, the tribe named the Red Skull. The same ones that killed my mother right infront of my own two eyes, I swore I'd get the revenge I seeked on them. But, alas, it has never happened. 

"Hello there Malof, nice to see the nice usual warm greeting!" Jokes Throkin.

"You can never be too carefull, especially up here."

"I never said you didn't, now did I?" Throkin announces as he wanders through the old door, he's carrying an old burlap sack, no doubt full of wheat and flour for me to surrvive the next few moons.

"Throkin, I have something to ask of you" I say to break the odd silence as I drool over the thought of fresh warm bread.

"What is it young one?"

"How long would it take to get to Storms Light from here?"

"Oh, I'd say near half a year, a bit more on foot."

"How did father expect me to go there..." I mumble under my breath, hoping Throkin didn't hear me. I have to admit, for an older man in his second 20, he sure hasn't lost any senses. His hearing is still that of a fox, and that isn't always a good thing.

"Don't you question your father boy, he was a great man, always was, and he was in good with those folks in Storms Light, so go there, they'll give you the help you need, all you have to say is that you're part of Oak Blood."

There it is, Oak Blood, I've seen it a few times, but never knew what it meant, my last name is Oak, so does it just mean I'm from family Oak, or is it something grater. I just don't know.

"Throkin, what is Oak Blood?"

"Oh, Oak Blood is what has given you the life you have, it's an old, aincent, but not forgotten clan of travelling warriors who-"

"So I'm a born Bandit, a born Merauder?"

"Hush up boy, they used to travel the land, helping any hold possible, your father was an Oak Blood in his young days, and you can be too, even though, the order is long gone."

So, I've been waiting and wondering for twelve years, and now I find out, my father was basically my dream, he was a knight, well sort of. "Then that does it Throkin, do you have a horse at the mill, I'm off on a journey, I have to go on."

"You're lucky, I just happen to have one, and an extra gift for you if you will accompany me home."

We, the oddly pair, head off into the forest, as we walk out the door, I sheathe my blade, and dawn my Oak Blood helmet once again, as we walk, we are not harrassed. I left the door to the shack open, thiniking I will not need it any more, of course, after I grabben my silver bag.

I come upon the old mill, and childhood memories come rushing in, stabbing hay bales as if they were trolls, riding the ponies, all of these, were of the better. As we step into the stables, I see my horse, he isn't an eyesore, but he isn't the best looking, he has a dingy gray mane with an all black body, and he has a chest behind him. I knew by looking at it, it was an old Oak Blood chest, just by the image on the top of it.

Once Throkin sadled the horse, he opened the chest, and handed me two things, one was a new set of armor, the colors were blue, red and a pollished silver, the other, a flag, or banner of sorts. It was a blue background with an image of an Oak tree, with blood seeping down it.

I put on the new armor, and looked in the cracked mirror, I was not the best looking of men, I had a long scar down my right eye from an old sword fight, and my hair was a messy dark brown, but I had a muscular build with broad shoulders, and that's what stood out the most. I looked back at Throkin, and place the banner in a holster in the saddle.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye old man."

"It's been my pleasure, Sir Oak."

The name had a ring to it, so I decided to keep it, Throkin walkd the horse and I out of the stable, and I went off, never looking back but to wave goodbye, I knew it was time. But I had a quest of my own before I carried out my fathers, and I knew I would need a few more men, so I took to Snowhold, to find any good men, and any men who wanted the Red Skull to disappear as much as I did.

Once I made it to the large, iron gates of Snowhold, a gaurd stopped me, and I instantly became nervous.

"What buisness do you have here, especially bearing that banner?"

"I am an adventurer, and I need use of your inn for just but a night."

"Eh, let me check real quick with the general." said the gaurd as he scurried away, 'Check with the General' I thought to myself 'Same line they used 12 years ago, after the gaurds watch my father get murdered.' Just as I turned my horse around to try one of the outskirt towns, I hear a loud clank, and I see the door rise into the wall. I venture inside and drop off my horse at the stables, but I lower my banner and hide it in my armor.

Snowhold is the second largest city on the island of Torgen, and it is in the very north half. It is a mostly stone work city and is the oldest on the island. The buildings are cracked and covered in ice or snow, but it adds to the effect of it. The inn is right at the front, as soon as you enter the city, as it kicks off the merchants district. As soon as the large iron door to the inn opens, no one hesitstes to stare, I bid my hellos and take a seat. I find a waitress standing over me, as she asks, as to everyone, "Can I intrest you in some ale?"

"Yes please, one tankard will do for now, and if you please, do you have a paper and quill for me?"

"Sure do, I'll be right back with both." She says with a wink and walks away.

I can't help but look around the bottom room of the inn, 'Room of the Common' I see on a plaque near the door. For the common men of the city, none are badly dressed, mainly in rich furs or hides. Then there are the mercenaries, and the assassins, the ones I look to add to my party. They sit with iron swords, or steel axes, some two-handed, some only small daggers. As the waitress comes back, she sets the tankard of ale infront of me, along with the quill and paper. I begin to write out a sign up lis, and a spot to take men's bounties on the heads of the bandits. When it is finished, I stand up and recite.

"All of you men and women, I look for a party, fit for battle, as it is time to take the fight to the local bandits. I am the leader of the newly refounded Oak Blood clan, and I am here to help all of Snowhold and the neighboring villages, by taking care of the Red Skull."

At first, the sign ups are slow, as I hear the stories of the mercenaries who's loved ones were killed by the bandits. A had an archer here, a sowrdsmen there, but nothing too outstanding, that's when he showed up. A bear of a man, I'd say the biggest one I've ever seen, He carried with him a bow, a great-sword and two one-handed war axes.

"The name is Rorik, I'll help ya take care o' those Bandit scum."

"Great to here Rorik, sign up here, do you have a horse?"

"Aye, he's a fine steed."

"Good, I'm going to need to know a little more about you, as I wish for you, to be my second in command."

"Alright, I was a general in the Snowhold army, I was the best there was, I outsmarted every opponent, and out muscled them. I was at the top of my game, until one of my men, who was actually one of the Red Skull, who came to stop us, framed me, and I was stripped of my title and thrown in jail, luckily the king got me out, and I became a sellsword, ready for an oppritunity like this."

When all was said and done in the Inn, I set off with a company of 50 men, and a total of 2000 silver peices in my bag. This was it, the start of something great, the start, of revenge.