Vain: Upon An Hours Rest

Chapter 3: A Rising Warrior

          The ride is bumpy but brisk. After an hour of riding far as we could from the once great city we stop by a brook and begin to wash the blood of myself. I rest as the horse drinks and cools down. A thousand memories flash through my head about the place I’m going. About the deep running hatred I used to have for the white knights and all they represented, about how I tried to destroy the city itself. I remount the horse after a good rest and continue riding until I see the faded white walls. the walls are damaged but nowhere near what Varock looked like. But as I get closer I hear a massive war cry from an army and as i ride over the hill I see the ground below and a huge army charging into the city with torches lit and swords drawn.

          Either the city dies or the city burns it appears. I place my bow and quiver on my back tightly around my sword sheath, tie the horse to a tree, strap the empty dagger holster around my legs, and make way for the city. As I get closer the need to defend her grows. I don’t understand the depth of this war yet but I know Falador is a valuable camp in this area. I draw my once famous swords and run as fast as i can at the back of the invading forces only to see arrows from the walls coming down. Then I hear another sharp cry and a battalion of small men, dwarves, charge in from the north and begin hacking away at the startled invading Black Knights. i shake off my shock and begin attacking as well.

          The Knights are hard to attack due to their full plated armor but they are also very slow in there swings. It’s easy to plunge the end of my sword through visors and into armor kinks.  Soon an entire wave of the defending army is rushing towards me and I move to the side of the city gate as more and more rush by. The dwarfs still swinging and hacking with crude hatchets and picks. As the invading force retreats I sheath my swords and move into the city with hands raised. Immediately I’m tackled by three soldiers and ropes are placed around my arms. No questions asked I am led to the castle.

          I can’t help but think how armature these warriors are in not removing my weapons but my horror over the burning city overshadows the thought. I’m led around the castle and into a small command post on the western side of the city. Still no words uttered when I walk inside I see a man in a gleaming suit of armor. It is straight white and trimmed in Gold. He isn’t wearing his helmet but I can see the golden plume across the room.

          "Who is this” he says to the young guards.

          “We don’t know sire, we picked him up upon the retreat of the Black knights."

          "Sit him down and leave Him here. Tie him to that chair there.” The guards leave and he looks me in the eyes with a cold look and lashes out with a bold slap to my face. My anger roars again for the third time. In two days I've been disrespected three times. He slaps me again, and spits in my face. He rips out one of my swords with a smirk. But as his eyes lean down to the bottom of the sword his face turns ashen. He quickly grabs the second and seeing the matching golden crosses on the bottom of the blades, he looks at me and all but whispers, "Were did you get these, you could of stolen one but the other has been missing for twenty five years!" I look at him with a blank stare, I've just finished untying my bonds, a small trick I learned in my younger days of thievery, and stand up, remove my bow, notch an arrow and aim straight at his helmet on the other side of the room. He quickly draws his sword in defense as a loud crash resides and you can plainly see on the floor his helm, with my arrow sticking plain through the small silted Visor. This skilled shooting helped make me famous in the rebellion long ago, along with my rapid ability to throw knives and even swords.

          His eyes turn bloodshot in an instant and he drops to one knee and bows, and begins to apologies but I cut him off. "It doesn’t matter, what is your name and rank?" He replies

          "My name is Lord Tydon Smith, and I am former Duke of Falador, home of the White Knights. Suddenly his face floods back into my remembrance as almost thirty years ago I fought against this vary man, and then served by his side. I say thirty because I’ve finally accepted the fact I've been gone for twenty five years. This man was one of my best friends! “I thought you died” he says in awe.

          “We don’t have time for that” I quickly reply. “I’ve been sent here with orders from Captain Lee to gather the rebels and head for the refugee camp of on the other side of the underground pass. Varock has been taken and I’ve no doubt those troops will soon aid those attacking this city. We must flee and do it quickly!”

          “Squires!” He calls in three young men, spread the news. Every man gather his family and weapons and meet at the south end of the city, we are abandoning the city. As he says this the unmistakable look of man who is losing his prized possession creeps across his face. They walk out and I look to King Smith.

          "Lee mentioned the Temple Knights. Another solemn look appears on his face and he says

          “The other eleven Knights left for the Elvin camp a month ago. We should meet them on arrival. (The king is the twelfth knight of an elite group known as the Temple Knights, similar to the Knights of the Round Table in Camelot). We stand together and pray and we both leave the building to prepare for the move. The goal and plan is to get out before the next invasion and leave through a hole in the west wall. Then move north east towards the mountain. Every person must leave candles lit and torches on the floor as they leave. In the words of Smith, "I’d rather see this city burn then in the hands of a pagan."

          We are about to leave when the catapulted rocks begin to fall. The Black Knights aided by the Ironclad burst through the shattered gates only to find the city slowly beginning to burn and the citizens rushing to safety. They begin to give chase but the dwarves meet us on the other side of the wall and as the last of the survivors reach the outside, using some sort of mixtures and dwarfs blow up the sides of the small wall portion crushing several soldiers and making a small blockage for the rest. We make haste as fast as we can for White Wolf Mountain and as we reach the bottom of the mountain and begin to climb up I remember my horse.

          The Black Knights are no longer chasing, without the will to climb this snowy mountain. King Smith makes camp and I instruct him to wait there at least one day. "If I’m not back by sundown tomorrow, Smith, you better be gone, do you hear me? You get these soldiers out of here. I will not endanger the freedom of thousands because of an old horse.”

          He replies, "Upon my honor I will leave, but upon the same I will return." With bold looks of respect all around, I set off back down the small portion of the mount we just climbed and prepare to make my way past an army and all the way to the other side of Falador to fetch my horse.