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

Several days south led Alexander and his dwarven allies to the treelined border overlooking the quiet field. Centered in the white blanket sat the ruins of Exmoor. Crunching through the snow which nearly reached his thighs, Alexander felt his heart melt as he recognized the burned out hulks and the round, collapsed shrine that still held some charm in the fallen columns and walls now gleaming in the noonday sun. They approached the weighstation on the southern highway to the Midlands and rounded the stables to see the squared window frames on the second floor flanked by blackened stone.

"Visitors," Artek motioned to the narrow entry with his axe and Alexander turned to notice a large group of saddled horses standing alone as their heads rose and turned to the quintet.

Alex drew his sword and hoped that the steeds didn't belong to thieves wishing to find keepsakes. As he unshouldered his shield, the horses all backed and nervously snorted as several stomped the snow.

"Afternoon," a male voice greeted from the stable entrance to their right. Alex turned to see the heavily dressed, well armed man step out with two others in similar garb behind him. Their clean shaven faces also held scars, some recently gained as the lead smiled. "If you're looking for a warm bed, I fear you'll have to travel a few days farther."

"We're not," Alexander began, still defensive. "What are you doing here?"

"Finishing up some business," the trio fanned out and slowed. "Where you headed?"

"South," Alex informed. "I will give you and your friends the opportunity to leave here unmolested, this is sacred ground and the memories of those who fell here don't need you tainting their home." His adrenaline rushed as he watched their eyes soften.

The older one smiled. "That's the most inspiring thing I've witnessed in a long time. How old are you, son?"

Alex defiantly kept his sword at the ready. "Old enough, now leave."

"There's a problem with that. I was raised here along with my brothers so, it's you that's the interloper." He unbuttoned his jacket and pulled back the front to reveal the black surcoat sporting the symbol of Arhus and two green branches rising from the low center to either side.

Alex lowered his sword and relaxed as he then noted the pommels of their swords also proudly displayed the same. "I apologize, my lord. We were told that everyone was slain here."

"Not everyone," the templar shook his head, then motioned behind and to the left. Alex turned to notice the other horses belonged to more templar who emerged from the central courtyard. All equally haggard, their eyes told volumes. "Where are you from?" He asked as they resumed their trek across to their companions.

"Kecel. I'm a squire with the Order of the Golden Scepter who now fight in the Black Mountains."

"How did you get here?" another knight asked from high in the saddle of a black, light warhorse.

"I awoke in Dronfield and soon met Artek and his men. We're headed south towards the Frontier."

"Then you've got a long walk ahead of you," he turned and motioned as another knight untied several sacks from four spare horses and then led them to Alex and his friends.

"Are you out of your mind," Artek chided as the dwarves' eyes rose to the saddles.

Alex turned to the captain. "It would make our travels quicker. I'll help you up if you need it."

Thick brows furrowed over dark eyes as Artek sighed.

"You can ride with us for as long as you need to. I'm the new Knight Commander of Exmoor, Sir Clement," the paladin introduced himself. "We'd be honored to have you with us, brother."

Alex smiled and bowed.