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The Misfits of Dametreos IIChapter 10: The Fallen Hero
They had been riding for a day now and had met no opposition so far. Suddenly four men clad in brown and wielding bows barred Fraun and Dordrot's horses from going farther down the path leading to Hemlock.
“Say travelers,” stated one of the brown clad men. “What be your business in Dark Forest land? I’m Rinjad, captain of the scouts here. What is your name?”
“I am Fraun Jerlock of the Forestmen and two hundred of my men. And this is my companion Dordrot of the Bulls Knights. I have come to aid Radjar Kath in the war against the Wolfpack.”
“Fraun Jerlock, you are a sight to sore eyes. We have been waiting your arrival for days now. Come, we shall take you to Kath and his advisors.”
“Good. My men need sleep and rest before they are battle worthy. And we have a prisoner that needs to be dealt with.”
Captain Rinjad ordered one of his men to go ahead to announce their arrival. Rinjad then led the army to Hemlock Fortress. Fraun along with Dordrot and Rinjad went to Radjar and his council to discuss the strategy.
“My Lord!” shouted Rinjad as they entered, “Fraun has arrived!”
“Fraun, how good to see you.” smiled Radjar. “It has been a while since we last saw each other.”
“Indeed it has been. But we now must plan for war.”
“Sadly yes. We cannot catch up with each others doing at the moment. Let me introduce you to my advisors. You already know General Vos here, and this is Trevelayn. He is going to help us out with Judas Nightblacke.”
“Nice to meet you.” smiled Fraun.
“Likewise.” commented Trevelayn wryly.
“And who is this man with you Fraun?” queried Radjar.
“I’m Dordrot, a Bull Knight, at your service and your kin’s.” replied Dordrot.
“My word, I thought the Bulls were utterly wiped from the face of the earth.”
“Indeed not my good sir! In fact the King of the Bulls is still alive and well last I heard.”
“Strange news indeed.” nodded Radjar, “But to business. How many men did you bring with you Fraun?”
“Two hundred. Radjar. And very experienced too.”
“Very good then. We plan our counterattack.”
After they had planned Dordrot and Fraun were been shown to their rooms, where they both went to bed. After a good nights rest Dordrot sat up in bed.
Radjar seems like a goodhearted man... Dordrot thought to himself Kind of like my friend Gorgod, serious but good-natured at the same time. If only Gorgod would have come with me on that fateful day...
Dordrot thoughts drifted back to the Bull's Castle standing on the hill, strong and defiant. Women and children scurrying around to get as far away as possible. The king ordering Dordrot to ride to the Black Knights to ask for aid. He remembered how he had asked Gorgod to come with him. But Gorgod said he wanted to stay and defend the city. How valiant and brave he was. He was only nineteen. He died defending the castle against those bloody Falcons. They would pay for the injustice they had done. They would pay eventually.
Just then Fraun entered the room.
“Dordrot, it is time for breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.” came the reply.
“Hodge helped with the meal, if that interests you any.”
Dordrot jumped out of bed in a flash and jogged down the hall to where Radjar sat already digging in to sausage, eggs, and sweet rolls, one of Hodge’s specialties.
“Good morning my friends. A nice day out is it not?”
“Indeed it is.” said Fraun and Dordrot in unison.
“Sit down and eat.” smiled a bustling Hodge, “I made plenty for all.”
General Vos joined them and the four began discussing the things they had been doing over the years gone by.
Soon the peaceful moment had ended, however. Arms were gathered and armor strapped on. It was time for battle.
“Prepare your weapons, men! Trevelayn, you and Fraun head out to scout the Wolfpack positions. The largest battle yet is about to come, I can feel it.” Radjar ordered, “Gerald and I will head out towards Loughton to keep an eye on Valus' stockade. Good luck."
The company moved out and Radjar's mounted men headed towards Loughton and destiny.
“Megabloks Forestmen,” cursed Nightblacke as the band of Dark Forest sentries approached the grizzled soldier warily.
“Block this, ye filthy best-locks!” he yelled, his saber slashing through flesh.
“I'll give ye all a good death, I will!”
Suddenly Trevelayn’s saber crossed Judas’. Sparks flew, lighting, dimly, the forest clearing in the dark night.
“What have you come for, Crusader scum? Do ye want a noble murder as well?”
“I've come to kill you, Judas you old braggart! You thought you'd escaped me forever!”
The swords clashed again.
“You came at just my prime...a wounded Falcon exile!”
“You’ll kill just the same, best-lock!”
Trevelayn's sword cut into the Falcon's arm.
“I’m not done yet, Trevelayn!” Judas barked. The mercenaries leaped from the trees, a fierce clash ensuing. The swordsmen battled, a deadly dance in the moonlit glade, with blood the applause and dead men the audience.
The battle seemed lost for the Dark Forest when a shout rang out. Trevelayn turned his head towards the sound, held to the ground by Judas' death grip, he used the distraction, kicking the exile off him.
“Come get your dues, Falcon!” screamed Vos, charging at him. The Falcon raised his saber to counter.
The golden kahli cut through the weak steel saber and into the Falcon's neck. Blood gushed from the headless spine of what was Judas Nightblacke as his head, a look of fear emblazoned on his face, rolled away.
The city of Loughton was not as quaint as it usually was. Black, acrid smoke rose from the town. Gereld's face looked grim.
“We must hurry, my lord. The town has been sacked!”
In the razed village the bodies of the dark Forest men there lay sprawled out in pools of blood. The King and General stared somberly at the slaughter, when something caught his eye. Just in front of an overturned cart, a ranger officer clutched his gut, blood slipping through his fingers. The face stared up, and beneath the hood was Valus Naras.
“Valus!” yelled Gereld. “Good Chodan!”
The dying ranger coughed, and crimson blood graced his pale cheek, blood that should have been that of the Wolfpack; but was instead that of a great hero.
“R-radjar... koff ... You came too late... I don't blame you, you could not of come…”
“Who did this, Val? Who bloody did this?!?”
Valus pulled Radjar closer to him.
“The Red Wolf,” he whispered.
“Grimtongue,” cursed Gereld.
“Radjar...you are forever... koff ... my...king.”
The legendary ranger let out one last breath, and died. Radjar wept. Through his armor came the light of his wound. The Shadow Wound. The one he had used in such power... it was growing now.
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