Chapter One - On Rescuing a Duke
Precis - The party, generally seperate at first, all
come together via the circumstances and rescue Duke Crestwind from his
besieged keep.
Baron Widlow had been a surprisingly reasonable
adversary, given the circumstances. Lito could not comprehend the
baron's choice of tactics, but ultimately couldn't fault the effects of
them. The baron, after a parley with Lito's father, duke
Crestwind, had simply camped his army outside of the castle and witheld
assault of any variety. For two weeks, the siege had remained
unbroken and unpursued; no one was allowed in or out of the castle, but
not an arrow was fired. No siege weapons were used, though not
for lack of them; baron Widlow's forces clearly had six catapults and
two battering rams at the ready, placed just outside of bowshot.
It was as though the baron was content to wait for duke Crestwind to
either give up, or die of starvation.
Lito had no head for tactics, really; he preferred
the simplicity of a notched arrow and a clear target. A hunt had
no complex strategems, no intrigue, and no constant bickering.
The hunter did not need to worry about decieving his prey, and his prey
did not need to worry about moral qualifications in his actions.
The siege was needlessly complex for Lito. Duty and honor, while
lovely ideas, seemed so inconsequential in front of the suffering of
the castle's garrison and tenants. What was his father thinking
when he refused the baron's offer to surrender on the grounds of 'duty
to his liege-lord?'
"TRAITORS!!!"
The hoarse cry broke Lito from his reverie, and he
reflexively nocked an arrow to its string, scanning about the torchlit
courtyard. His vantage point in the south-eastern tower gave him
a good view of the main courtyard and the town beyond the keep's
walls. Several parts of the army beyond were stirring, and the
reflected moonlight off the armor and swords told Lito all he needed to
know. The grinding sound of the rising portcullis only proved
that his instincts were correct; the siege would finally break, one way
or another.
"Softly, lord," whispered Barbados, the young
bodyguard
assigned to Lito. "I will check the barbican; stay safe."
"Thank you. I'll be ready if anyone breaks
into the courtyard," Lito responded quietly. Smith nodded, and
padded along the parapet to the barbican, quickly sinking into the
darkness.
Below, the knights at the main keep's doors drew
their swords and readied their shields, even as the first enemy troops
poured from the gatehouse. Several dozen men, some knights among
them, rushed from the gatehouse and engaged the retainers of duke
Crestwind on sight. Lito sighted along his arrow at a knight, and
after a moment to correct for his target's speed, let his arrow
go. The arrow pierced the knight's armor at the shoulder,
momentarily throwing the knight's momentum off. Soon, however,
the knight was back in motion.
A second shot that slammed into the side of the
knight passed, and Barbados poked his head out of the barbican
door.
He vigorously gestured, and mimed the draw of a bowstring to Lito, who
promptly drew another arrow and took aim at the doorway. Several
armsmen wearing Kripwell yellow were visible in the open doorway; Lito
led a target and released. Unaware of the arrow, the armsmen
parried a blow from a Crestwind soldier within the barbican; Lito's
arrow pierced deeply into the Kripwell armsmen's shoulder, and he
staggered. At the moment the arrow struck, Barbados lashed out,
and
drove a flat palm to the back of the armsmen's head, knocking him cold
instantly. Barbados threw several other blows to the surprised
armsmen in the barbican, incapacitating two more and bowling over a
third. With the oppurtunity present, Barbados withdrew, and
motioned
for Lito to head back to the southeastern tower.
Sir Leon Acton watched from horseback as the assault
went underway. "I am surprised that baron Widlow would use such
underhanded tactics," Leon said, shaking his head. "This
situation is hopeless;
the duke can no longer stand here. We shall enter through the
southern gate and retrieve him, and flee as
fast as humanly possible." The elf beside sir Leon nodded
solemnly. Kendall was a thoughtful lady, and generally
taciturn. Although she posessed a powerful intellect, she
preferred to let Leon plan their efforts. He was, after all, the
warrior.
Leon urged his mount forward with the reins, Kendall
keeping pace on her mount. They did not bother to speak as they
cantered to the southern gate. When they arrived, Leon briefly
checked the door. "Locked," he announced firmly. Kendall
shrugged and concentrated. There were three minds nearby; clearly
one had to be Leon, so the two others must be guards inside the small
gatehouse. She extended her thoughts briefly, and made the weaker
of the two minds well aware of her presence. She welcomed his
mind, and communicated only friendship.
The gate opened quietly, and a guard peered
out. His focus instantly centered on Kendall, and a silent pause
passed. Leon gave them both a look, shrugged, and walked in the
open doorway. A second guard stood gawking, his hand resting on
the handle of his sword. "It's alright, mate, they're friends!"
the first guard said through a sheepish grin.
"I'm Leon Acton, a paladin of Heironeous. I'm
here to rescue duke Crestwind from this siege and take him to safety,"
Leon announced clearly. The second guard stood momentarily, hand
still resting on the pommel of his sword. A glance at his comrade
made up his mind; he raised his hand in welcome.
"We'll follow you then," the guard said
warily. Leon smiled.
"What would be the best way to get to the duke?" He
asked.
The guard grunted and opened the other door as sir
Leon and Kendall rode their horses through the small gate.
"There's a kitchen in back of the keep with a door, come on, We'll show
you."
Barbados dashed along the parapet as arrows
clattered scant inches behind his feet. He slid to a stop in the
doorway and gave a sheepish look to Lito.
"You know, for a bodyguard, you sure seek out a lot
of conflict," Lito mused, holding a hand over an arrow wound.
Blood leaked out slowly; the wound was not too deep.
Barbados headed for the stairwell. "Let us
make for the stables - if we can get a few horses, we can escape the
siege and tend to your wounds."
"And what of my father?" Lito asked, his eyes taking
on a sharper look.
"You heard it yourself, the baron does not want the
duke harmed. I am sure he will be fine."
Lito considered for a moment. "No. We
should mount a rescue. But I agree, horses first."
Barbados nodded and headed down the stairwell,
rolling his weight along the balls of his feet quietly. Edging to
the doorway, Barbados listened carefully. The roar of battle in
the main yard made it difficult to discern sounds. Lito came down
the steps after Barbados, moving as quietly as he could. "Wait
here," Barbados whispered quietly.
He stalked out along the wall. The stable
wasn't far from the south-eastern tower. A door was open, and
light poured out. Two men were evident in the doorway, facing in
towards the stables. They wore the livery of duke Kripwell's
men.
Barbados noted that one was standing slightly back
from the other. An oppurtunity.
Barbados sprung forward suddenly, clamping his hand
around the man's mouth and dragged him bodily back into the shadows of
the tower.
"Oy, mate!" the guard beside shouted.
"Help! Intruder!"
Giving a quick wrench of his wrist, Barbados tried
to snap the man's neck. The guard, however, resisted strongly and
pulled back on Barbados's arm with all his might, averting his
demise. Barbados grunted quietly with frustration, and prepared
to give another wrench. Lito saw the struggle, however, and drew
his dagger, plunging it into the soldier's chest. The soldier
struggled momentarily longer, but soon rested his weight into
Barbados's arms. Barbados made a hasty gesture, and they flung
themselves into a supply wagon resting against the stable.
Six men rushed out from the stable, bearing swords
and torches. "Split up! Search for 'em!"
Lito gave Barbados a look. Barbados had the
grace to smile apologetically.
Leon shrugged the guard's sword aside with his
shield, taking a swipe at him. The Kripwell man and his companion
stood in defensive stances, keeping the paladin and his companions at
bay. "We have to finish this quickly, the duke may be in danger!"
Leon called to his companions. The Crestwind guards advanced side
by side, shields first, towards the Kripwell soldiers. Leon
stabbed
at the soldier again, the blow barely deflected.
The second soldier came rushing at Leon of a sudden,
sword raised. Leon reined his horse about and took the jarring
blow on his shield. The blow smarted in his arm. The
soldier raised his sword to deliver a second such blow, but his sword
left his hand at the top of its arc. The blade fell to the
ground, and the soldier's limp body fell next to it, a crossbow bolt
protruding from the back of his head. Leon looked up as the
Crestwind guards rushed and overwhelmed the remaining Kripwell
soldier. A form, barely visible save for the crossbow it was
re-cocking, stood just outside the other side of the kitchen
shed. Leon dismounted and tethered his horse as the man
approached.
He was average height, dressed entirely in
black. A seal on his belt noted him as a man under
Crestwind. "Come. The duke is in danger," the man spoke
with the voice of a razor. Leon regarded him momentarily, before
unsheathing his greatsword.
"Very well. Lead the way."
The dark-clad man moved briskly into the castle,
setting a furious pace for a walk. Leon jogged to keep up,
Kendall hurrying behind Leon, and the Crestwind guards trailing the
party. "Several men made it to this entrance ahead of you, sir
knight. They came from the barracks. Somehow baron Widlow
managed to plant men inside the duke's own castle." He paused at
the oak doorway to the main hall. "You will enter here. You
should be able to flank the attackers. I am going to go rally
what household guards I can." He strode down the south-facing
hall, and disappeared around a corner.
Leon turned to his companions. "Ready?" At the
chorus of nods, Leon turned to the door, and put his metal-shod boot
into it. He rushed into the hall, swinging his greatsword in a
deadly arc. "I am Leon Acton, warrior of Heironeous! The
duke is under my protection! Who dares stand in my way?"
Lito eased his way along the wall, Barbados behind
him. When he reached the open door, he quickly slipped into the
darkness of the stairwell. Barbados took up the opposite corner
of the stairwell. Lito again gave Barbados a sour look.
"This is not going down in the annals of heroic rescues,
Barbados." Barbados shrugged helplessly.
The dull thudding of metal-shod boots sealed their
banter; four Widlow guards walked into the tower, bearing torches and
meticulous glares. "Alright, look around. You two,
upstairs, Ned and I will do down 'ere."
Barbados raised a flat palm towards Lito, and
listened. The guards roamed about the room carefully, checking
beneath the table and in the chest with emergency rations. The
leader of the two posted stopped moving, even as the second's footsteps
grew louder.
Yellow light washed over Lito. "Got one here,
here!" shouted the guard.
Lito whipped his sword out as the guard came at him,
and their steel skidded along towards the hilts. Lito pulled back
shakily, trying to remember the drilling sir Clipton had made him do
years ago.
The guard grunted in triumph, and Lito gasped as the
sword bit into his side. He hadn't been prepared, and he wasn't
in yard padding.
Barbados sprung forward, lashing his foot against
the guard's head. The guard stumbled to the side with an oath,
his sword drawing back out of Lito's gut. Barbados followed up
with an open palm directly up and across the unfortunate guard's nose,
sending the man onto his back with a crunch of splintering bones.
The lead guard rushed forward, and was caught in the gut by Barbados's
fist. "Run for the stables, my lord!" Barbados called.
Lito needed no second urging, and rushed out the
door, holding his wounds. He stumbled at the doorframe, but
recovered his footing and pressed on. At the door to the stables,
he slowed, and readied his sword. "Here's hoping," he muttered to
himself, with a slight wince. He walked into the stable.
"Bugger."
Leon beat his sword against the knight's a third
time, unable to sneak past the knight's defense. The knight was
good. Leon drew his sword back.
"Do not throw your life away, sir. We have you
outnumbered and surrounded. Lay down your sword!" Leon commanded.
The knight canted his own sword forward, and raised
his shielf once more. "For the baron!" he shouted, and rushed
Leon. Leon parried, shunting the knight's sword aside, and
carried through with a slow riposte. The knight's armor crumpled
inward slightly from the impact of Leon's sword, but held, and the
knight swept Leon's blade away, and raised his own high. Swinging
the sword down, the knight's sword crashed into Leon's hasty parry,
nearly knocking Leon's sword from his hands, but Leon held his
grip. His arms ached from the impact.
A crash in the room to the east announced the
presence of more invaders, and Kendall slipped a hand into her
sleeve. As the door flung itself open and the first Widlow
soldier stepped out, Kendall flung a vial towards the soldier.
The vial bursted open on impact, and the vitriol inside lit aflame in
scant moments. The soldier writhed and collapsed in place,
creating a smoking barrier in the doorway.
"Not quite what I'd intended..." Kendall
muttered.
The Crestwind guards closed in on the knight,
shields forward and swords poised. As Leon delivered another
blow, they struck, plunging their swords into the knight's body.
The knight staggered, and collapsed back into a sitting position.
Looking up, the knight raised his visor.
"Victory to the Voice," he said softly as his gaze
froze.
Leon looked up after a moment, and stepped towards
the duke. Removing his right gauntlet, he pressed his hand
against the duke's wounds, and muttered a prayer to Heironeous.
The duke's chest heaved and his arm flew to his heart, but after a
moment, he opened his eyes and looked up, confused. Leon stood
and faced the guards.
"Can you men cover our escape? Don't throw
your lives away, just delay as best you can." Kendall raised the
duke and supported him, giving him a shoulder to lean on.
The guards turned and saluted duke Crestwind.
"For you, my lord."
The duke looked up at his men. "May the hand
of Heironeous shield you."
Leon started for the door towards the kitchen.
"Come, my lord, our horses await."
The black-clad man stood waiting in the hallway,
crossbow in hand. "Good. Let's make haste."
The duke stumbled along, leaning his weight on
Kendall. "The battle goes badly, I see. What news of my
son?"
Leon turned his head as he reached the door to the
kitchen shed. "Your son? I have not seen nor heard of
him. Where was he at the break of the siege?"
Crestwind's face fell. "In the south-eastern
tower. We must hurry to him!" The black-clad man shook his
head silently.
Leon eyed the spook, and then nodded. "Then we
shall. Kendall, could you look after the duke on your
horse? I fear Cyrril and I will have some business to attend to."
The black-clad man shook his head once more.
"Then I shall see to our exit."
Lito fought more precisely this turn. The
twist of blades had thus far favored no one, but the lone guard stood
resolutely and uninjured, while Lito wavered and leaked life.
Lito pushed aside the soldier's blade woodenly. He felt like he
had lead in his veins. He raised his blade for another strike,
only to have it turned away by the soldier once more. On his
parry, Lito was slow, but met the soldier's blade, pushing it aside
from its original target into a section of his ribs, beneath and to the
left of his heart. Gasping with pain, Lito stumbled back, somehow
still standing. The soldier grinned and raised his blade.
"G'night, taffer!"
Lito raised his sword in a desperate parry and
closed his eyes. What he heard was entirely unexpected.
Opening his eyes, Lito saw the guard impaled on a
lance. A knight, perfectly fitting the shining armor description,
shook the body off from horseback. "Lito Crestwind, I am sent by
your father to rescue you," the knight raised the visor of his helm, "I
am Leon Acton. Come, let's get you a horse."
The spook stepped from the stablemaster's hut as
Lito mounted a horse. "The south-western tower gate is
clear. We can escape down the southern road, for now."
Leon nodded. "Kendall and the duke?"
"Already on their way southwards. They will
wait for us at the closest safe spot."
Leon nodded once again, in approval. "Are you
ready, young lord?"
Lito looked to the side. Barbados. "I
had a bodyguard with me in the tower. He was fighting against
several soldiers."
"We don't have time to rescue every man in the keep,
young lord."
"I know, but..."
The eastern door to the stables burst open.
"My lord, I am here!" Barbados announced. Blood marked his fists
and feet, and he was covered in a light sheen of sweat.
Leon appealed heavenward silently. "Then get a
horse, bodyguard. We must make haste."
Barbados hoisted himself onto a horse, and the four
rode out of the stable toward the south-western gate. "I'll head
out first to draw their arrows. You three follow after a few
seconds and ride past me." Everyone agreed.
Leon cantered out to a marginal distance south of
the gate tower, and turned Cyrril, raising his shield. Waving it
back and forth, it began to shine brightly, illuminating the night with
a brilliant white light. The archers atop the tower covered their
eyes. As the light faded, Lito, Barbados, and the black-clad
spook rode southwards past Leon. The archers recovered
momentarily, and hurriedly notched arrows, and shot. Leon shunted
one aside on his shield, wheeled his horse southwards once more, and
rode hard. A second arrow imbedded itself in his armor, just
above the shoulder, leaving Leon unharmed.
Cyrril skidded to a halt in front of the
others. Passing his eye over the assemblage, Leon's gaze fixed on
the duke. An arrow wound was evident in his side. Kendall
cleared her throat. "While we were escaping. He's alive,
but we'll need to travel carefully. His wound could re-open."
Session one - end.