laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

After a month-and-a-half of trudging through the Black Mountains, fighting rear guard elements of grey dwarves, giants and trolls, the Order encamped within the high, grey topped mountains whose bottom half were a soft green which then blended into deeper green from the trees that bordered a long river valley. Alex stood near the river as he drew from it into his bucket, peering down the rapids to see banners flying in the far distance. Standing within what he knew to be the large army that was now assaulting the gates of the dwarven city of Venaselt, they each denoted the devils that had been assaulting every outlying post and weighstation along their southern border. Being the capitol of the Black Anvil Clan, the city had been the first built and a testimony to their perserverence in carving out a home within the range whose long history was mired in violence.

"Do we march into that today," William asked as he stood, bucket now filled.

"Probably," Alexander guessed. "Are you afraid?"

Brown eyes darted to him, speaking volumes from what they had already endured. "No, of course not."

Alex watched his friend head back into the tree covered campsite that stretched up into the dark forest and along the thundering river. He knew the squire was as nervous as Alex and everyone else was. Not of death but, that they wouldn't be able to see the defeat of their enemy before they fell. He headed up to see Stephen and Kenneth eating a quick meal, still armored with their swords still at their sides.

"This could be the final battle for us," Stephen began as he straightened. "I want you to know that it's been my honor to have you at my side, Alexander."

Catching him offguard, Alex stood quietly.

"If the fight goes ill, I want you to ride back the way we've come as fast as you can and get word to the castle on the east coast of the Dovey, where the knights of the Grey Eagle are stationed. Alright?"

"Yes, sir." Apprehension began to build and he wondered if the knight's champion had revealed something that he wasn't aware of. He took the bucket and set it on the ground between the knights, then returned to his spot on the grass, picked up the bowl of stew and began eating.

Once he washed their bowls and returned what little they had unpacked, the trumpet's call echoed within the trees. His heart began to race as men unsheathed their weapons and ran towards the northern side of the camp. Alex grabbed the reins of their horses and pulled them towards the rear of the forming line as the chaos of battle erupted. Dwarves and men now fought side-by-side against grey dwarves, orcs, battle boars, giants and more flying demons who shrieked as they launched their spears into shields and flesh. He drew his sword, waiting for a target, knowing that he couldn't leave the battle while someone was still there to fight.

'You gave your word to him. Your vow is your bond and determines who you are,' the familiar female voice reminded.

'I can't let them die and then run away.'

No response as he watched the fighting within the forest push northward amidst yells of the defiant and the dying. Clerics rushed to the fallen and treated as they could, some with herbs, others with magic to keep them alive. Squires then pulled them back from danger and allowed them time to heal.
He noticed the leaves of a nearby tree swirl as a demon lowered from the sky, hovering as he drew back to throw his javelin at a cleric.

"Watch out," he pointed, then charged with his shield up. Diving forward as the missile sped toward its target; he glided through the air and desperately tried to reach the javelin that quickly passed him. He hit the ground hard and looked to see a bright flash in the shape of a tall female in brilliantly shining chainmail, hand extended. Stopping as if hitting a wall, the javelin exploded into shards that rained down in all directions and the angel disappeared.

He smiled, pushed himself up and turned as the demon drew back with another javelin, glaring at the cleric. Alexander charged, longsword upraised and leaped from a tall boulder as he arched with a mighty swing, catching the attention of the enemy whose glowing yellow eyes turned to him. Backfisting the squire, Alex swung and hit the demon in the arm as he himself was hit in the helmet on the left cheek. Seeing a flash in his eyes, his limp body flew downward as it spun and hit the water with a crash sending a shower of water towards the far bank.

* * *

Sitting on the banks, underneath the cool shade of one of the larger oaks whose long, gnarled branches overhung the wide river, the halfling enjoyed his pipe. Watching the smoke from his nostrils lazily rise into the air, his brown eyes soon caught sight of something dark floating near him. With a start, he jumped up as the form of a young face shone in the water and ran to the boy. Tall and lanky, the sleeping passerby had to be a human as Abbott grabbed the wet arm and dragged him towards shore. Pulling with all his might, he kept the boy's head out of the lapping waves and lifted him into the high grass, then repositioned himself near the head, grabbed two handfuls of leather and pulled. Sliding out of the water, the young man was nearly a foot taller than himself.

"Sonja," he yelled as he rounded the chest and checked to make sure he hadn't retrieved a dead body. Kneeling, he ran his hand over the nose and felt the weak expulsion of air. "Someone up there sure loves you," he commented.

"What is it now," the female retort from deep within the woods.

"Get Balan and the others and tell them to bring the cart, hurry."

"This isn't another of your grand fish stories, is it?"

His eyes rolled as he straightened. "Just hurry, you'll see once you get out here." Shaking his head, he returned his attention to the sleeping boy and noticed the helmet's left cheekplate nearly crushed into his teeth. "You've seen some action, probably the giants that live east of here. Well, any enemy of theirs is a friend of mine," he grinned, pipe still dispensing it's swirling white plume. "You're probably going to be hungry when you awaken. Well, don't worry, Sonja is a great cook," as he thought of the menu, his stomach began to growl.

Soon, the commotion of voices and the pony drawn cart rumbled through the woods and approached and all went quiet as their eyes noticed the subject of his alert.

"Is he dead," Sonja asked, her soft blue eyes scanned the chest as she walked over to stand behind him.

"No. He's alive. We need to get him to the house, help me," he directed them around the boy's body and they all lifted and carried him around to the back of the cart, then slid him along the wooden floor. Leading the pony through the narrow pathway and towards his home, Abbott wondered who this young man was.

"Abbott, you recognize this heraldry," Balan asked, pointing to the black surcoat.

He shook his head, no one wearing those colors had ever visited Dronfield.

"Order of the Golden Scepter," his brother informed. "I heard one of the human merchants from Ashton talk about them. Supposed to be holy knights for their god of justice."

"You're saying finding him is a good omen?"

"I'm saying that saving his life may get you some reward," green eyes grinned mischievously. "I helped you bring him here, don't forget."

"Relax, Balan," Sonja began. "We'll take good care of him, all of us. I'll have to find him some clothes."

"You mean you'll have to make him some clothes," Wesley, Abbott's youngest brother added. "He's not going to fit into anything that we own."

"Let's get him inside first, we can worry about the rest once he's awake," Abbott stated as they reached the front gate. They each grabbed a limb and carried him through the circular door, down a hallway and negotiated the corners as they finally reached a spare bedroom. Lifting him upward, they lay his head on the pillow and quickly noticed his legs overhanging the foot of the bed at the knee. "Well, it's the thought that counts, right," he smiled at his wife.

Sonja quickly chased his brothers out of the room. "We're going to get him out of these wet clothes, take the cart back and close the door on your way out," she directed. "Then tell Curry what we've found, his magics may be needed."

Both brothers-in-law headed down the hallway, dejected as they hung their heads. "When he wakes up tell us, alright," Balan's voice echoed within the subterranean home.

* * *

Alexander awoke to the smells of biscuits, ham, tea and other smells that made his mouth water. He noticed immediately that he was without clothing and underneath at least two warm blankets. Laying on his side with his legs drawn up, his blue eyes opened to see the dark room as quiet voices conversed somewhere distant. Comfortable, the bed reminded him of the dorm back in Kecel as his head rose to look beyond the foot of the bed and the thin round line of light that permeated the oddly shaped door. Or was it a magical gate of some kind? Rising, he felt around to find his clothing neatly folded on a short stool to his left. Swinging his legs out of the bed, he began to get dressed. Once pulling on his pants, he straightened to pull them up and immediately hit his head on the low ceiling. Stars coursed through his eyes as he bowed down, hand to the top of his head that now screamed in pain as he plopped back onto the bed.

"Ow," he pushed out, then rubbed the rising lump. Once it began to ebb to a more bearable ache, he pulled up his boots, then felt around to only find his breastplate and greaves along with his surcoat. Sword and shield were gone along with his helmet, he noticed as the nervousness began to rise. He turned towards the ring of light and felt around for a knob or crossbar to find a cool knob in the center of the door which he pulled and opened the door. Light poured in from the long hallway that went right and left. He bowed over and walked over into the hall and followed the voices to the kitchen as the strong scents of spices and butter melted his mouth.

"Well, he's alive," Abbott stated, smiling as Alex walked in. He immediately noticed his host's stature and brilliant clothing. The female turned, bright smile on her angelic face as blue eyes gleamed, long curly blonde hair spilled down her shoulders and back to accent her light blue dress.

"How do you feel," Sonja asked as she carried a brass pot over to the table.

"Alright, I guess. Where am I?" Alex wondered aloud as he moved to sit in a chair meant for someone half his age and size, knees rising over the table's edge.

"You're in Prestwick, a hamlet within Dronfield," Abbott informed. "Where are you from?"

"Originally, I'm from Kecel. But, my lord and the Order were fighting near Venaselt when I was knocked unconscious."

Both of the halflings eyed him blankly.