Tale of Otharios - The Knight of Tranquility

"All demons, corporeal and ethereal are born from the hearts of men."

- Margrave Ravteübel the Knight of Tranquility

It began as most tales of this age do, by happenstance. In the southern most provinces of Otharios one may find the village of Drohl. Drohl was by no means a special place, indeed it was much like a grain of sand on a beach as far as uniqueness goes. However, often times it is the stories with humble beginnings which are the grandest of all, such is the following legend.

Along the road heading out of the village Duke Ruelehigs tended to his family's small vegetable garden. It was a simple thing capable of growing only potatoes and tomatoes and not nearly enough to provide for the family of six, but enough to lessen the food scarcity during the winter months. Duke had finished caring for the vegetables and moved to his favorite part, his flower patch. Only one kind of flower out of the many he had planted had managed to take root in the infertile soil. The flowers had seven silver petals, along the length of each petal a violet line weaved until coming to a single point at the end of each petal.

It was as Duke moved to tend to his flowers that he noticed a sound approaching, looking up he beheld an oddity. A man was walking down the road towards him, he was of average build and sported fair blonde hair common among Otharians which starkly contrasted with Duke's own coal black hair. What made the man an oddity was his bizarre way of walking. It was best described as a shamble. The man would take a sudden, jerky step forward immediately followed by a smooth, calm step, the culmination resulting in an awkward looking shamble as the man moved down the road. The cause of his movement rested in his armor, he wore no helm but his suit was nothing like the stories of adventurers that Duke had been told.

The armor was a chimera. It sported two halves, both vastly different, it split down the middle. The left side was made of a darkly dyed leather interwoven with pieces of chain along the arm and leg. The right side was crafted of interlocking pieces of plate that clinked and rattled with each shaky movement of the man. These two halves came together at the center forming a set of armor embodying perfect asymmetry.

Duke lowered his eyes as the man approached. The man came to a stop before Duke and his small garden.

"Boy!" he called. "After this village which is the next one that has an inn?"

Duke didn't raise his eyes as he turned and offered the man his answer, "The next town with an inn is Volheigen, about 30 more miles down the road."

The man replied with a gruff, "Thank you."

As duke began to breathe a sigh of relief that the man would leave without causing trouble the man bent down and picked up a large rock from the road. The man heaved the stone into the pond opposite from Duke's garden. He looked at Duke with eyes of a hawk sizing up prospective prey. "Fetch that stone from the bottom of the pond for me boy," he scoffed.

Duke couldn't swim, but even so he waded into the pond and made to get the stone for the man. Duke reached the drop-off and sank like the rock that the man had thrown moments earlier. There was no sign that Duke had ever been at his garden besides a few bubbles on the surface of the water and his gardening tools.

After fifteen seconds the man unlatched the plate from his right side and dove into the water after the boy. From the water's depths the man pulled Duke up and brought him back to the road. A few presses to the chest caused the boy to expel the water from his lungs.

After a few moments Duke regained his composure from near-death and looked up at his savior, "Thank you for saving me sir," he said.

The man scrunched his brow and raised an eye, his voice was soft and kind compared to his earlier countenance, "Are you not wroth with me lad?" he questioned.