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The Misfits of DametreosChapter 2: Barbod
Lord Barbod continued to walk the plains in the land of the Black Falcons. He was walking on a path, muttering to himself as he did so. He finally came upon it. The land his fortress used to stand on. Any man could still see a war was fought here, for the broken shields and spears still lay there. He heard the clapping of a horses feet passing behind him.
“Sir, are you lost?” the voice asked, a caring voice.
“Bloody Black Falcon Knight...be gone with you, or your horse will leave here alone!” Barbod responded, his voice like a whip.
“Excuse me sir?” the young knight persisted.
“Kid, weren't 'cha there?” Barbod began, “All those years ago? You're a Black Falcon, are you not?”
“Aye…” the young man stated.
Barbod whirled around to see the knight's shocked face when he recognized the Bull Crest upon his chest. “Bloody knight! Your people took my people's land! Took my people’s lives! And you took my pride! Be gone with you!”
“Y-you're…” The knight slowly pulled his finger up and pointed to Barbod, “L-l-lord...Lord Barbod…”
“The same.” Barbod began to grin.
“Well then, on behalf of my kingdom, I apologize!” the knight smiled.
“Bloody knight! I need no apology!” Barbod whipped around and began to walk away. A large grin came to his face as he turned.
“Bloody knight…” he said happily to himself.
Barbod continued walking westward after the meeting with the young knight. He was nothing like the Black Falcons who tore his land through. Maybe the Falcons have changed... he thought to himself.
He sat upon the summer grass to enjoy a nice lunchtime meal. He slowly unpacked some berries he'd picked earlier and started to pop them into his mouth.
“A glorious day!” Barbod said to himself, setting his spear and shield to the side.
“Indeed!” A rough voice said from behind him, “A glorious day to kill a traitor!”
Barbod swung around to see a scruffy-looking man behind him. He bore a long sword and a Black Falcon shield. Barbod quickly leapt up and instinctively away, for the man was now standing between him and his means of protection. Barbod prepared himself for a fight, even if he were to be killed in the process. The man swung his sword at Barbod, but he was weak and inaccurate. Barbod realized the man was very old.
Barbod spat on the ground. The old man couldn’t be very fast. He dove for his weapon and successfully obtained it. Barbod blunt-ended the man with his spear, knocking him to the ground with his shield.
“Bloody Falcons!” Barbod began, and picked up the man's blade. He ripped off the leather from the man’s sword and scribbled something upon it.
“Give this to your king!” Barbod screamed to the man, “And tell him…” Barbod went into thought for a moment, “Tell him that a Bull is always charging.”
The man stumbled up and ran off in a frenzy.
He left his shield. Barbod thought, throwing it into the bush. He ventured onward, leaving behind his un-eaten spoils. He walked upon the hard-beaten path until he reached the coastal city of Assumah.
“A nice day for sailing!” he said to himself, and wandered his way to the docks.
“I believe my ship is here, good man,” said Barbod to the ship keeper.
“Name?” the man asked.
“Lord Barbod, of the Bulls Crest.” Barbod stated.
“B...B...B-BARBOD?!?!” The man stumbled backward, “A demon sent back from the farthest reaches of the underworld, no doubt.”
“I never have died sir. Now to my ship…”
“Oh-oh-oh yes, yes sir. The king ordered it sunk, sir! Please have mercy! I have children!” The man covered his head and ducked down.
Barbod turned and walked off of the docks. He headed for the pub. It had been a long day.
Barbod paid the barkeep for his brew. He chugged it down, and bid the keep farewell. The pub was not a friendly place, due to being former lord of the greatest enemy of the Black Falcons. As he strode out of the pub, he saw a great pirate ship. Perhaps they would grant him a trip if he paid enough. One man, however, caught Barbod’s attention. He was not dressed like the Black Falcon soldiers or the pirates unloading the ship, and moving much faster. Curious what this man was doing, Barbod approached him.
Reno started to hurry off, but a strange man with a Bull insignia was coming towards him. Reno remembered that the Bulls were destroyed by the Black Falcons years ago.
“Hello.” greeted the Bull Soldier in a deep, gruff voice, “Where might you be hurrying off too?”
“Excuse me, I don't know who you are so leave me alone. I'm in a bit of a hurry.” Reno answered.
Reno heard a familiar voice. “Boss, that guy’s escaping, boss he’s going!!”
Reno turned around to see seven pirates and five Black Falcons coming towards him.
“What shall we do now, soldier?” Reno asked the Bull.
“Soldier? I am a king! RUN!”
The two misfits ran for ten minutes until they came upon an old warehouse.
“In here, I would have fought but twelve against two is too much!” the Bull King gestured to the door and they both entered.
Barbod looked at the strange man whom he had just met.
“Bloody Falcons!” he said, spitting on the floor, “And sir, I'm afraid we haven’t been formally introduced! I am Lord Barbod, King of the Bull Crest Knights. And you are?”
“I am Reno, sir.” the young man said, not taking his eyes off of the door.
“So young Reno, what problem do you have with the Falcons?” Barbod questioned, looking to the young man.
“Be quiet! I hear them coming!” Reno said as he prepared himself for combat. There was a crack against the door, but it didn't give.
“Young Reno, no need to worry, you have the Bull King on your side!”
A flicker of red came onto the door, and then a spark. A small fire broke upon the door and the wood began to crackle.
“A small need for worry now, they are barbecuing us alive! There's gotta be a way out sir!” Reno said, shaking.
“It's ok, there's a way out over there!” Barbod shouted.
The whole of the door was burning now. “My...my...father and mother... they...they got burnt alive!” Reno was rooted to the spot.
“Well, let's make sure it does not happen to you! Come on!” Barbod shouted. Barbod smashed the weak point in the warehouse with his spear, breaking the wall. The whole of the warehouse was on fire now and Reno seemed to have recovered.
“Well sir, I believe thanks are in order.”
Reno stuck out his hand. Barbod shook it firmly.
“Well, King, where too now...?” asked Reno.
Lord Barbod smiled at the young man, “I still have much business to attend to in the northeast of this land, so, young man, I suppose this is where we part ways.”
“Nonsense, I will be joining you!” Reno said.
“Could be dangerous…” Barbod protested.
“Even better!” Reno smiled, and the two blissfully walked into the fields of the Black Falcons.
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