From afar, the castle could be seen as a light yet foreboding structure overseeing the desert. It was constructed from the rough granite and sandstone that was so abundant throughout the region. Over the centuries the castle main had been enlarged and improved upon time and time again, and now looked oddly mismatched. The main structures of the Castle stood five stories high in places, and with strong towers on top of that, it could be overwhelming to visitors. A huge red and black banner flies from the tallest tower, indicating the Duke is in residence.
As one approached the keep from the main road a thick, squat tower rose up in the forefront of one's vision, blocking the main gates from view. Its rounded surface was well pitted and pockmarked from many battles and clashes with sandstorms, but it had old bones that went deep into the ground and it was strong. On top of this tower, several guards stood peering through the thick battlements to get a look at visitors. The tower was strategically placed to give defenders a place to attack from above and force those that would assault the Keep to go around its base and be funneled into a wide gap between the outer walls where arrows and rocks would rain down on them. The area behind the tower was like a courtyard and was flat and open. Two connecting walkways crossed overhead for the guardians of the Keep to move back and forth from the round tower to the rest of the keep.
The gates themselves were massive logs of hard oak and ironbound. The crest of the Drakedoder clan was etched into the iron bindings. In the daylight, the gates stood open and inviting, at night, they were closed and locked, to secure the Keep.
As you approach the tower, one of the many gruff guards calls out to you, "Who goes there?"
Dragonskeep Entrance Thread
Moderators: Vanadius, Morg, Guido Cercatoro, Mods
Dragonskeep Entrance Thread
Last edited by Vanadius on Wed Mar 26, 2008 9:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Malakhai Qinua
- Civus
- Posts: 60
- Joined: Mon Dec 03, 2007 9:55 pm
- Location: Dragonskeep
The castle was a source of amusement to many of the People of the Sands. Malakhai had often heard his friends discussing the folly of the guarrdi in constructing such a vast edifice that would, no doubt, eventually succumb to the power of the elements and be reduced to the sand and stone from which it was built. But Malakhai felt no such emotion as he rode steadily towards Dragonskeep. Instead the fortress enthused him in a way he found difficult to understand. Even knowing full well the ultimate futility of such a construction, he was heartened by the sight. Unlike his own people, these foreigners were at least making an attempt to resist the natural forces that governed the world: forces such as the rain, the sun, and the dragons.
Dragons. That one word summed up why Malakhai now sat astride his camel looking up at the open gates of Dragonskeep, easternmost outpost of the Western Kingdom. He was here because his own people were too weak-willed, too submissive, to dare to make a stand on their own behalf against the beasts that bedevilled them. Of course, Malakhai wasn't arrogant enough to believe that he alone could change the fate of an entire people - but he felt that it was worth trying.
Seven days ago, Malakhai's own mother had been taken by a red dragon, which in itself was enough to fuel his easily aroused temper. But what really prompted his swift departure was the reaction of his father to their loss: an indifference that to Malakhai seemed to be bordering on contempt. Oyon Qinua, ack drebi-ferkit. How unworthy you were. In the young tribesman's mind were few feelings for his father other than shame and embarrassment, both on his own behalf. Malakhai was ashamed and embarrassed to be the son of one who would willingly surrender the greatest treasure of his life without a shred of resistance.
The man of the Sands adjusted the cloth that shielded his face from the turri, widening the gap through which his dark eyes surveyed the settlement, and gently urged his mount Chagatai forward with a nudge of his heel. So absorbed was he in gazing at the fearsome fortifications that he didn't give the guards at the gate any consideration until one of them called to him. Then he drew Chagatai to a halt and addressed them without dismounting.
"Kal'essen, Westerner," he called, stooping over the camel's neck to see who he was talking to. "I am Malakhai Qinua of the Black Tribe. I wish to become a Dragon Knight."
Dragons. That one word summed up why Malakhai now sat astride his camel looking up at the open gates of Dragonskeep, easternmost outpost of the Western Kingdom. He was here because his own people were too weak-willed, too submissive, to dare to make a stand on their own behalf against the beasts that bedevilled them. Of course, Malakhai wasn't arrogant enough to believe that he alone could change the fate of an entire people - but he felt that it was worth trying.
Seven days ago, Malakhai's own mother had been taken by a red dragon, which in itself was enough to fuel his easily aroused temper. But what really prompted his swift departure was the reaction of his father to their loss: an indifference that to Malakhai seemed to be bordering on contempt. Oyon Qinua, ack drebi-ferkit. How unworthy you were. In the young tribesman's mind were few feelings for his father other than shame and embarrassment, both on his own behalf. Malakhai was ashamed and embarrassed to be the son of one who would willingly surrender the greatest treasure of his life without a shred of resistance.
The man of the Sands adjusted the cloth that shielded his face from the turri, widening the gap through which his dark eyes surveyed the settlement, and gently urged his mount Chagatai forward with a nudge of his heel. So absorbed was he in gazing at the fearsome fortifications that he didn't give the guards at the gate any consideration until one of them called to him. Then he drew Chagatai to a halt and addressed them without dismounting.
"Kal'essen, Westerner," he called, stooping over the camel's neck to see who he was talking to. "I am Malakhai Qinua of the Black Tribe. I wish to become a Dragon Knight."
[i]"When the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw" - Hamlet[/i]
Avatar is "sandman" by yifatshaik, from allavatars.com
Avatar is "sandman" by yifatshaik, from allavatars.com
In the not too distant past, such a creature as Malakhai showing up outside the main gate and declaring a wish to become a Dragonknight would have brought snickers of laughter and guffaws of contempt. However, recent events had caused the people of the Keep and the People of the Sands to stand together against a dangerous enemy, and at least on this day, there was a begrudging respect for the Tribes and their people.
"Hail then Malakhai Qinua. Come round the Drum... er... step around the base of this tower and the gate is straight ahead. Once you're inside, keep to the left and you'll see an open causeway. Cross that, and look for a green painted door. That's the Marshal's office. Ask for Nathan Lockwood. He's the commander of the Knights."
The guard babbled on rather pleasantly and amiably, and the others seemed relaxed and easy going as well. High overhead the banner of the Drakedoder family caught the breeze and drifted and danced lazily overhead.
The round tower that the guards had nicknamed "the Drum" was large enough to block the view of the main gates if one stood in front of it. The large tower forced visitors to redirect their steps around it in order to reach the gates. Once Malakhai had done so, the gates stood open and inviting after a short distance through a wide gap, around which the high walls surrounded. More guards in red and black tabards were standing lazily on the ramparts, and peering down at him through the battlements as he made his way forward into the Keep.
"Hail then Malakhai Qinua. Come round the Drum... er... step around the base of this tower and the gate is straight ahead. Once you're inside, keep to the left and you'll see an open causeway. Cross that, and look for a green painted door. That's the Marshal's office. Ask for Nathan Lockwood. He's the commander of the Knights."
The guard babbled on rather pleasantly and amiably, and the others seemed relaxed and easy going as well. High overhead the banner of the Drakedoder family caught the breeze and drifted and danced lazily overhead.
The round tower that the guards had nicknamed "the Drum" was large enough to block the view of the main gates if one stood in front of it. The large tower forced visitors to redirect their steps around it in order to reach the gates. Once Malakhai had done so, the gates stood open and inviting after a short distance through a wide gap, around which the high walls surrounded. More guards in red and black tabards were standing lazily on the ramparts, and peering down at him through the battlements as he made his way forward into the Keep.
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H`saan Alai
- Civus
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Fri Nov 09, 2007 1:55 am
- Location: Dragonskeep. Posting 1x/week.
It wasn't the first time H'saan had visited Dragonskeep. He had come to the fort-city on two occasions in the past yahren, in his travels with the Eastern Sands Trading Company. It was, however, the first time he had come with the intention of staying there for any extended period.
This time he came as an apprentice of the Society of Chirurgeons – a committee of local healers sanctioned by the Apothecaries’ Guild to sponsor public health projects in Sabata. He had approached the Society in an effort to confirm his theory that a poison that had entered the city’s water supplies, and had been rapidly inducted into the group to aid their efforts to counteract it*. A little too rapidly, as it turned out. The young healer had a good deductive mind, but he was hardly an alchemist, and knew next to nothing about poisons. He couldn’t learn enough about them in time to be of any use in the investigations – being illiterate didn’t help – so instead he had been sent out to further his education in a field better suited to his talents.
Now Dragonskeep might not have been the obvious destination for your average conscientious, mild-mannered young healer; but his time in the desert had given H’saan a taste for travel and adventure. The idea of sitting around in a ponderous institution, surrounded morningtide to gravetide by scrolls and tomes, was almost intolerable. He was determined to make the best of the opportunity given to him by the Guild, however, and learning to read was an important part of it. He could not accomplish this while wandering around the Sands fighting off bandits and treating mercenaries for heatstroke. So the next best course of action the half-giant could think of was to attach himself to an army. A little structure and military discipline would do him no harm.
Boss Harkhebi’s goons were no good. The only other nearby army were the Knights of Dragonskeep, and fortunately, they were perfectly suited to his ends. He would see plenty of action come the time of the Dragon Hunt. And Joris Drakedoder looked after his people, so there was a good chance that their physikers and surgeons were amongst the best in the field.
It remained to be seen if he could convince one of them to take him on as a student.
The portal spat the healer out with its usual lack of ceremony. H’saan lurched off to one side before dropping his staff and pack and crouching on all fours, fighting the urge to be sick all over the ground. The sensation passed almost immediately and he stood, feeling slightly foolish for getting all sensitive, but thankful that it hadn’t been worse.
He looked down at the Knights on duty, flashing them a queasy grin while he rearranged his robes. He stated the nature of his business in the city calmly and openly. “Kal’essen, Sir Knights. My name is H’saan Alai, of Sabata. I come seeking the wisdom of one of your chirurgeons. In return I can offer my own services as a healer – or coin, if it is preferred.â€
He waited expectantly to see if any further details were required.
* birthday present
This time he came as an apprentice of the Society of Chirurgeons – a committee of local healers sanctioned by the Apothecaries’ Guild to sponsor public health projects in Sabata. He had approached the Society in an effort to confirm his theory that a poison that had entered the city’s water supplies, and had been rapidly inducted into the group to aid their efforts to counteract it*. A little too rapidly, as it turned out. The young healer had a good deductive mind, but he was hardly an alchemist, and knew next to nothing about poisons. He couldn’t learn enough about them in time to be of any use in the investigations – being illiterate didn’t help – so instead he had been sent out to further his education in a field better suited to his talents.
Now Dragonskeep might not have been the obvious destination for your average conscientious, mild-mannered young healer; but his time in the desert had given H’saan a taste for travel and adventure. The idea of sitting around in a ponderous institution, surrounded morningtide to gravetide by scrolls and tomes, was almost intolerable. He was determined to make the best of the opportunity given to him by the Guild, however, and learning to read was an important part of it. He could not accomplish this while wandering around the Sands fighting off bandits and treating mercenaries for heatstroke. So the next best course of action the half-giant could think of was to attach himself to an army. A little structure and military discipline would do him no harm.
Boss Harkhebi’s goons were no good. The only other nearby army were the Knights of Dragonskeep, and fortunately, they were perfectly suited to his ends. He would see plenty of action come the time of the Dragon Hunt. And Joris Drakedoder looked after his people, so there was a good chance that their physikers and surgeons were amongst the best in the field.
It remained to be seen if he could convince one of them to take him on as a student.
The Black Tower of Dragonskeep stands stark on the western edge of the Keep, looking straight into the Howling Ice Mountains. Until recently, the tower lay empty, its only use as one entrance to the Castle’s lower rooms and storehouses. The discovery of the magic of portals has reinvigorated this foreboding edifice.
Marked with strange runes and wards, the antechamber on the Tower does little to greet its visitors. Its purpose though, is not to welcome, but to protect. Access to the Keep’s portal lay on the floors above. Though guards were posted, mortal men could easily be overcome. The wards and runes of the antechamber serve as additional, and powerful, defense against unwelcome visitors.
Responsibility for monitoring the portal and its users is held by the vaunted Dragon Knights. No soul could arrive through this portal unless attended by a Dragon Knight or by one of the Count’s inner circle; a select group of people able come and go as they please in the Black Tower. The magic will prevent the uninitiated from passing. Indeed, Knights now stood at both entrances to the stairwell to the portal awaiting the day’s arrivals.
The portal spat the healer out with its usual lack of ceremony. H’saan lurched off to one side before dropping his staff and pack and crouching on all fours, fighting the urge to be sick all over the ground. The sensation passed almost immediately and he stood, feeling slightly foolish for getting all sensitive, but thankful that it hadn’t been worse.
He looked down at the Knights on duty, flashing them a queasy grin while he rearranged his robes. He stated the nature of his business in the city calmly and openly. “Kal’essen, Sir Knights. My name is H’saan Alai, of Sabata. I come seeking the wisdom of one of your chirurgeons. In return I can offer my own services as a healer – or coin, if it is preferred.â€
He waited expectantly to see if any further details were required.
* birthday present
[size=75][b]Seriously baby, I can prescribe anything I want - Dr Nick Riviera, The Simpsons[/b]
Avatar by Mockery at allavatars.com[/size]
Avatar by Mockery at allavatars.com[/size]
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Khalaros Lehan
- Civus
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 3:40 am
- Location: Dragonskeep
The Swordsman made his way to the bleached-wall keep with a patient tred; His journey had been long and for the most part, uneventful. There had been far too much time for thought and introspection on the road. In truth, he had hoped for something, anything, to happen.
Twas foolhardy, he knew, to hope for misfortune, but he would have prefered a fight with bandits or an animal attack to the tedious traverse he had made, with naught but his guilt and regrets to dwell on.
Most people would have given thanks to the gods above for such a uneventful and safe journey...but still, somehow, he was unsatisfied.
With a heavy sigh, Khalaros Lehan looked up at the ironbound gates, taking in the etched crest of the Drakedoder clan, then continued forward until he was called down to from the guards above.
"Who goes there?" came the gruff voice.
Squinting upwards with one hand to cover his eyes from the sun, the travel weary swordsman said, "Khalaros Lehan. Brother to Khaladun Lehan, formerly in service here. I seek audience with your Captain of the Guard, or perhaps someone who may speak in his stead. I seek to become a Dragon Knight..."
Twas foolhardy, he knew, to hope for misfortune, but he would have prefered a fight with bandits or an animal attack to the tedious traverse he had made, with naught but his guilt and regrets to dwell on.
Most people would have given thanks to the gods above for such a uneventful and safe journey...but still, somehow, he was unsatisfied.
With a heavy sigh, Khalaros Lehan looked up at the ironbound gates, taking in the etched crest of the Drakedoder clan, then continued forward until he was called down to from the guards above.
"Who goes there?" came the gruff voice.
Squinting upwards with one hand to cover his eyes from the sun, the travel weary swordsman said, "Khalaros Lehan. Brother to Khaladun Lehan, formerly in service here. I seek audience with your Captain of the Guard, or perhaps someone who may speak in his stead. I seek to become a Dragon Knight..."
Last edited by Khalaros Lehan on Thu Jan 03, 2008 12:08 pm, edited 3 times in total.
- Khalaros Lehan,
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
H'saan
The Knights guarding the portal drew around H'saan in a protective circle as he first emerged from the portal. With cautious hands on the their weapons, they waited silently for the half giant to get his bearings and compose himself.
Once the new arrival didn't appear hostile or present a threat, one, seemingly an officer of some sort nodded at the other three, and H'saan was given a comfortable berth of space to gather his wits and his belongings.
One of them spoke.
"Good day to you sir. Chirurgeons? A healer?" The Knight looked at the others, somewhat uncertain and hesitant.
"We haven't had one here since Father Amaris died. I suppose we need to get you to see the Seneschal and speak with him about it."
He motioned to one of the guards.
"Duncan, will you escort... Mister Ah... Ali to the Seneschal's office?"
"Please follow me sir." Duncan said when it seemed H'saan was ready.
Khalaros
What is it with every other week, we get a batch of folks that want to join the ranks. Ames wondered. Ames was a sandy haired young man with big hands and a bigger smile.
"Come 'round the drum and follow the span to the gate. Once you're though, cross the causeway to the left and look for the painted green door. The Commander's name is Lockwood. Ask for him there."
True to the knight's words, once the round, pitted tower was circumnavigated, a flat, wide area led to the massive gates. Khalaros was given a once over by another Knight, but was allowed inside without incident or difficulty. Further inside, to the left of the large hall before him, was an open causeway full of horses and jousting knights.
Two horses and riders galloped towards one another, and crashed together in a thunderous crack of splintered wood. One rider, looking somewhat large and overbearing in the saddle, fell victim to the other man's lance. The victor, reigned in his horse, and trotted back around to the other side of the open field and removed his helmet after casting aside the remains of his shattered lance.
"Not bad." He said. "Next time keep your eyes open."
The watchers, numbering about a dozen, all laughed heartily. They were all of various shapes and sizes, and all fully armed and armored.
The victor, a lean, almost slender looking man was older than the rest, perhaps about fifty yahren. He was mostly bald, and sported a gray beard that matched the length and color of the sparse hair on his head. On his shield was a black tree on a green background.
The loser, a young man who had unfortunately bitten his tongue in the clash, spat blood and rubbed his shoulder where the lance point had struck him. Despite being afflicted by a loss, a bloody and sore mouth, and a dented shoulder, he was in a fair mood, and seemed a good natured enough fellow.
The victor glanced over at Khalaros.
"Help you?" He questioned curtly, yet was seemingly not annoyed.
The Knights guarding the portal drew around H'saan in a protective circle as he first emerged from the portal. With cautious hands on the their weapons, they waited silently for the half giant to get his bearings and compose himself.
Once the new arrival didn't appear hostile or present a threat, one, seemingly an officer of some sort nodded at the other three, and H'saan was given a comfortable berth of space to gather his wits and his belongings.
One of them spoke.
"Good day to you sir. Chirurgeons? A healer?" The Knight looked at the others, somewhat uncertain and hesitant.
"We haven't had one here since Father Amaris died. I suppose we need to get you to see the Seneschal and speak with him about it."
He motioned to one of the guards.
"Duncan, will you escort... Mister Ah... Ali to the Seneschal's office?"
"Please follow me sir." Duncan said when it seemed H'saan was ready.
Khalaros
What is it with every other week, we get a batch of folks that want to join the ranks. Ames wondered. Ames was a sandy haired young man with big hands and a bigger smile.
"Come 'round the drum and follow the span to the gate. Once you're though, cross the causeway to the left and look for the painted green door. The Commander's name is Lockwood. Ask for him there."
True to the knight's words, once the round, pitted tower was circumnavigated, a flat, wide area led to the massive gates. Khalaros was given a once over by another Knight, but was allowed inside without incident or difficulty. Further inside, to the left of the large hall before him, was an open causeway full of horses and jousting knights.
Two horses and riders galloped towards one another, and crashed together in a thunderous crack of splintered wood. One rider, looking somewhat large and overbearing in the saddle, fell victim to the other man's lance. The victor, reigned in his horse, and trotted back around to the other side of the open field and removed his helmet after casting aside the remains of his shattered lance.
"Not bad." He said. "Next time keep your eyes open."
The watchers, numbering about a dozen, all laughed heartily. They were all of various shapes and sizes, and all fully armed and armored.
The victor, a lean, almost slender looking man was older than the rest, perhaps about fifty yahren. He was mostly bald, and sported a gray beard that matched the length and color of the sparse hair on his head. On his shield was a black tree on a green background.
The loser, a young man who had unfortunately bitten his tongue in the clash, spat blood and rubbed his shoulder where the lance point had struck him. Despite being afflicted by a loss, a bloody and sore mouth, and a dented shoulder, he was in a fair mood, and seemed a good natured enough fellow.
The victor glanced over at Khalaros.
"Help you?" He questioned curtly, yet was seemingly not annoyed.
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Khalaros Lehan
- Civus
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 3:40 am
- Location: Dragonskeep
Well. Here I am...finally at the point of introduction, and I've planned nothing. What AM I to say? Alright, Ros, how do you handle this? Bold and Arrogant? Humble and reserved? Should I mention Dun? What's the proper knightly ettiquette?
Khalaros took in the assembly of knights and squires for a moment, before answering, straining his memory for any kernal of information that might aid him.
...and if I had any real experience with knights, then the point would be moot, eh?
Returning his gaze to the elder knight before him, his voice as calm and deep as he could make it, Khalaros saids simply, "I'm looking for Commander Lockwood. When I inquired at the gate, seeking to apply for the Dragon Knights, I was told I would find him here. Have I found him?"
Khalaros took in the assembly of knights and squires for a moment, before answering, straining his memory for any kernal of information that might aid him.
...and if I had any real experience with knights, then the point would be moot, eh?
Returning his gaze to the elder knight before him, his voice as calm and deep as he could make it, Khalaros saids simply, "I'm looking for Commander Lockwood. When I inquired at the gate, seeking to apply for the Dragon Knights, I was told I would find him here. Have I found him?"
Last edited by Khalaros Lehan on Sat Jan 05, 2008 10:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.
- Khalaros Lehan,
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
-
H`saan Alai
- Civus
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Fri Nov 09, 2007 1:55 am
- Location: Dragonskeep. Posting 1x/week.
The have no healers at all? It was a small population that dwelt here, about the third the size of Sabata’s, but H’saan had not realised that the shortage of manpower was quite so dire. Does he speak of the Dragon Knights or the whole of the keep? Either way, the healer was canny enough to realise that this put him in a position of great value. Forget about paying… if he made a good impression he could just about name his price.
“It seems I have come in a time of need. Very well, lead us forth, Sir Duncan.†A swift bow to the guards, then he slung his pack back over his shoulder and took his leave of the portal room. He ducked his head as he passed through the door – few buildings in Sabata were designed to accommodate a man of his size, so even when they were large enough to pass through without stooping, he often did so out of habit.
The steel-shod end of his staff rang as it tapped against the stones at irregular intervals. As was his wont, the gregarious healer tried to strike up a conversation while he followed Duncan to the Seneschal’s office.
“If I may ask, how long has it been since your Father Amaris passed on? Does something prevent you from finding another to fill his place?â€
If the guard was feeling talkative, perhaps he would learn a little more about the circumstances surrounding the healer’s death. It wasn’t vital for him to know them, but the more he found out about his new place of residence and the requirements of his new position, the sooner he could start to fit in.
“It seems I have come in a time of need. Very well, lead us forth, Sir Duncan.†A swift bow to the guards, then he slung his pack back over his shoulder and took his leave of the portal room. He ducked his head as he passed through the door – few buildings in Sabata were designed to accommodate a man of his size, so even when they were large enough to pass through without stooping, he often did so out of habit.
The steel-shod end of his staff rang as it tapped against the stones at irregular intervals. As was his wont, the gregarious healer tried to strike up a conversation while he followed Duncan to the Seneschal’s office.
“If I may ask, how long has it been since your Father Amaris passed on? Does something prevent you from finding another to fill his place?â€
If the guard was feeling talkative, perhaps he would learn a little more about the circumstances surrounding the healer’s death. It wasn’t vital for him to know them, but the more he found out about his new place of residence and the requirements of his new position, the sooner he could start to fit in.
[size=75][b]Seriously baby, I can prescribe anything I want - Dr Nick Riviera, The Simpsons[/b]
Avatar by Mockery at allavatars.com[/size]
Avatar by Mockery at allavatars.com[/size]
Khalaros
"Not quite, but you're close. My name is Blacktree. Stand ready for a bit, and when he's done, he'll come outside. If you're looking to join, then you're in the right place."
Blacktree dismounted and a squire walked his horse away. The older knight came towards Khalaros, removing his gloves and stood nearby.
"Let see who's next." He said to no one in particular, although two of the young men watching began to adjust their armor and walked towards opposite sides of the causeway. Before long they were mounting horses and readying themselves to tilt.
Blacktree was not a tall man physically, but he carried himself with a certain stature. He was at least half a head shorter than Khalaros.
"You any good with that hand a halfer?" He asked Khalaros pleasantly.
H'saan
Duncan was a young knight. He was dark haired and dark eyed, but seemed a casual enough fellow. He was tall for a human, well over six feet, and his thin and lanky stature was not quite disguised by the breastplate and greaves he wore.
"Father Amaris died... uh... last Samheen. He was good man."
The young man shrugged.
"Nothing but the Church I suppose. There's a new priest that is supposed to arrive sometime in the next few days. I'm not sure what kind of a healer he'll be, or even if he'll be one at all, but Commander Lockwood told us to keep a sharp eye out for him."
The young Duncan led H'saan down a long, narrow stair while they spoke, and then outside into a large, nearly empty causeway. A few wagons with bales of hay, and some other mercantile goods was being unloaded by two burly looking men. A more slender, delicate looking man looked on with a scroll of parchment that he was using as a checklist for the goods. He was an aged man with a severe, almost stern look to his face. He wore a rich green doublet with two golden dragons climbing each side of the large black buttons.
When Duncan approached, the older man turned to greet them. His eyebrows raised slightly at the size of the stranger before him, but he didn't seem terribly surprised or shocked.
"Ah... Duncan." The man said.
"Seneschal Amah, may I present to you H'saan Alai of Sabata. Master Alai, this is Jome Amah, Seneschal to Duke Drakedoder."
After he did his introduction, the young knight stepped a few paces away and waited politely.
Amah looked up at the half giant, and shaded his eyes.
"Master Alai. Welcome to Dragonskeep. How may I assist you?"
"Not quite, but you're close. My name is Blacktree. Stand ready for a bit, and when he's done, he'll come outside. If you're looking to join, then you're in the right place."
Blacktree dismounted and a squire walked his horse away. The older knight came towards Khalaros, removing his gloves and stood nearby.
"Let see who's next." He said to no one in particular, although two of the young men watching began to adjust their armor and walked towards opposite sides of the causeway. Before long they were mounting horses and readying themselves to tilt.
Blacktree was not a tall man physically, but he carried himself with a certain stature. He was at least half a head shorter than Khalaros.
"You any good with that hand a halfer?" He asked Khalaros pleasantly.
H'saan
Duncan was a young knight. He was dark haired and dark eyed, but seemed a casual enough fellow. He was tall for a human, well over six feet, and his thin and lanky stature was not quite disguised by the breastplate and greaves he wore.
If I may ask, how long has it been since your Father Amaris passed on?
"Father Amaris died... uh... last Samheen. He was good man."
Does something prevent you from finding another to fill his place?
The young man shrugged.
"Nothing but the Church I suppose. There's a new priest that is supposed to arrive sometime in the next few days. I'm not sure what kind of a healer he'll be, or even if he'll be one at all, but Commander Lockwood told us to keep a sharp eye out for him."
The young Duncan led H'saan down a long, narrow stair while they spoke, and then outside into a large, nearly empty causeway. A few wagons with bales of hay, and some other mercantile goods was being unloaded by two burly looking men. A more slender, delicate looking man looked on with a scroll of parchment that he was using as a checklist for the goods. He was an aged man with a severe, almost stern look to his face. He wore a rich green doublet with two golden dragons climbing each side of the large black buttons.
When Duncan approached, the older man turned to greet them. His eyebrows raised slightly at the size of the stranger before him, but he didn't seem terribly surprised or shocked.
"Ah... Duncan." The man said.
"Seneschal Amah, may I present to you H'saan Alai of Sabata. Master Alai, this is Jome Amah, Seneschal to Duke Drakedoder."
After he did his introduction, the young knight stepped a few paces away and waited politely.
Amah looked up at the half giant, and shaded his eyes.
"Master Alai. Welcome to Dragonskeep. How may I assist you?"
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Khalaros Lehan
- Civus
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 3:40 am
- Location: Dragonskeep
"Well met, then, Sir Blacktree. Aye, I shall wait, thank you." the young swordsman answered, taking a slightly uneasy stance near the smaller man. Khalaros stood watching as the two new competetors mounted their horses for their run.
He was about to ask Blacktree about the Dragon Knight Order, just to keep up conversation, when the elder knight spoke. "You any good with that hand a halfer?"
"Decent, for an untrained man, I'm told...but nowhere near your skill level, I'm sure, if your jousting run is any example..." Khalaros gave Blacktree a respectful nod, then returned his stare to the jousting knights.
He was about to ask Blacktree about the Dragon Knight Order, just to keep up conversation, when the elder knight spoke. "You any good with that hand a halfer?"
"Decent, for an untrained man, I'm told...but nowhere near your skill level, I'm sure, if your jousting run is any example..." Khalaros gave Blacktree a respectful nod, then returned his stare to the jousting knights.
- Khalaros Lehan,
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
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[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
OOC: Khalaros;
Please join in here;
https://tazlure.nl/board/viewtopic.php?t=14906
Please join in here;
https://tazlure.nl/board/viewtopic.php?t=14906
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Khalaros Lehan
- Civus
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 3:40 am
- Location: Dragonskeep
((Doh!...OOC, could you edit my post to read "Well met, Sir Blacktree.." rather than Lockwood? Sheesh. ; That, and I'm heading to the other thread.)))
Last edited by Khalaros Lehan on Mon Jan 07, 2008 8:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
- Khalaros Lehan,
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
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H`saan Alai
- Civus
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Fri Nov 09, 2007 1:55 am
- Location: Dragonskeep. Posting 1x/week.
“It is I who hopes to be of assistance, Seneschal,†the half-giant replied as he offered Amah a slight bow in greeting. He didn’t waste time with any elaborate salutations. As a man aged, the lines worn onto his face often revealed his general state of mind over the yahren. A brief study of the old man told H’saan that this was one more accustomed to being obeyed than flattered.
He got straight to the point. “I am a healer. I came seeking to deepen my knowledge of the treatment of battlefield injuries, by studying with the healers of your Dragon Knights, but I have since heard that you have not had one for three months. It is therefore my wish to render you what aid I can until a more experienced physician can be found.â€
“My training is recognised by the Apothecaries’ Guild in Sabata, and I have been employed by the Eastern Sands Trading Company for the expeditions,†he added, in case the Seneschal got the impression that he was hiring a total greenhorn. “My experience is such that I can look after your people’s most common ailments and injuries with confidence.â€
He got straight to the point. “I am a healer. I came seeking to deepen my knowledge of the treatment of battlefield injuries, by studying with the healers of your Dragon Knights, but I have since heard that you have not had one for three months. It is therefore my wish to render you what aid I can until a more experienced physician can be found.â€
“My training is recognised by the Apothecaries’ Guild in Sabata, and I have been employed by the Eastern Sands Trading Company for the expeditions,†he added, in case the Seneschal got the impression that he was hiring a total greenhorn. “My experience is such that I can look after your people’s most common ailments and injuries with confidence.â€
[size=75][b]Seriously baby, I can prescribe anything I want - Dr Nick Riviera, The Simpsons[/b]
Avatar by Mockery at allavatars.com[/size]
Avatar by Mockery at allavatars.com[/size]
The Seneschal seemed politely interested and watched the half giant speak through hooded eyes.
"Well Master Alai. I'm certain that your training is perfectly adequate and valuable and I certainly appreciate your offer. There is a priest coming from King's Court. He is en route and is rumored to be well versed in the art, but there are a few cases of minor injuries here that do require some attention. Nothing too serious, some cuts and scrapes and the occasional broken bone. Some times the knights get a little overzealous in their fervor to prove themselves."
Amah clucked his tongue.
"The closest thing the Knights have for a healer is a man named Sterling. He's an older Knight, been around a lot of Yahren, but he's well versed in combat injuries and treated more than a few."
The Seneschal dropped his hand from his eyes, but his gaze remained on the taller, desert healer.
"Would you like to speak with him? I believe the trainees are in the causeway today, the Warden of the South loves to test the men personally. Perhaps Sterling has joined them, or is nearby."
"Well Master Alai. I'm certain that your training is perfectly adequate and valuable and I certainly appreciate your offer. There is a priest coming from King's Court. He is en route and is rumored to be well versed in the art, but there are a few cases of minor injuries here that do require some attention. Nothing too serious, some cuts and scrapes and the occasional broken bone. Some times the knights get a little overzealous in their fervor to prove themselves."
Amah clucked his tongue.
"The closest thing the Knights have for a healer is a man named Sterling. He's an older Knight, been around a lot of Yahren, but he's well versed in combat injuries and treated more than a few."
The Seneschal dropped his hand from his eyes, but his gaze remained on the taller, desert healer.
"Would you like to speak with him? I believe the trainees are in the causeway today, the Warden of the South loves to test the men personally. Perhaps Sterling has joined them, or is nearby."
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H`saan Alai
- Civus
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Fri Nov 09, 2007 1:55 am
- Location: Dragonskeep. Posting 1x/week.
"I will speak to Sir Stirling, yes. Thank you Seneschal," H'saan replied. "But before I leave, I have one final question. Am I to understand his as an offer of employment for the Keep or the Dragon Knights?"
[size=75][b]Seriously baby, I can prescribe anything I want - Dr Nick Riviera, The Simpsons[/b]
Avatar by Mockery at allavatars.com[/size]
Avatar by Mockery at allavatars.com[/size]
The Seneschal smiled politely.
"I'm afraid I cannot speak to that sir. Commander Lockwood is ultimately in charge of the Dragonknights, and if wishes to hire you on as a healer for them, that decision is ultimately his."
The older man gave H'saan a wry glance.
"But should he not retain your services, come see me again. Father Uthas might be willing to take on an apprentice, and perhaps I can persuade him after he arrives."
"Good luck to you sir."
OOC: ~fin?
"I'm afraid I cannot speak to that sir. Commander Lockwood is ultimately in charge of the Dragonknights, and if wishes to hire you on as a healer for them, that decision is ultimately his."
The older man gave H'saan a wry glance.
"But should he not retain your services, come see me again. Father Uthas might be willing to take on an apprentice, and perhaps I can persuade him after he arrives."
"Good luck to you sir."
OOC: ~fin?
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H`saan Alai
- Civus
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Fri Nov 09, 2007 1:55 am
- Location: Dragonskeep. Posting 1x/week.
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Khalaros Lehan
- Civus
- Posts: 22
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 3:40 am
- Location: Dragonskeep
Last edited by Khalaros Lehan on Sun Jan 13, 2008 4:46 pm, edited 1 time in total.
- Khalaros Lehan,
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
[size=84]Dragon Knight-in-training[/size]
_______________________________________
[size=75]Avatar from AllAvatars.com[/size]
There it was dragons Keep, an imposing structure, especially to a halfling. He had heard the grand stories of the first count Drakedoder, this was a land where heroes were made. Boxil hoped the legendary dragons and the equally famous Dragon Knights would give him that elusive inspiration. If he was going to be a great bard he would need great songs, the Keep seemed like a place where grand stories could be heard. Maybe he could make a bit of money along the way as well, he had found in the past that in more remote regions the residents were more forgiving of a less skilled bard.
As he got closer to the tower the small figures that moved about it's ramparts became more clear. Invigorated by finally reaching his destination, the halfling ran towards the keep waving his hands in the air. His gut bounced as his large feet flapped on the beaten road.
A gruff voice called out to him "Who goes there?"
The halfling replied to the guard in a cheerful voice, "Boxil, aspiring bard in search of heroes!" He flourished his hands and bowed to the guard, imitating an action he had often seen the bard Franco perform.
As he got closer to the tower the small figures that moved about it's ramparts became more clear. Invigorated by finally reaching his destination, the halfling ran towards the keep waving his hands in the air. His gut bounced as his large feet flapped on the beaten road.
A gruff voice called out to him "Who goes there?"
The halfling replied to the guard in a cheerful voice, "Boxil, aspiring bard in search of heroes!" He flourished his hands and bowed to the guard, imitating an action he had often seen the bard Franco perform.
At first there was little reply. The guards craned their necks and searched before finally spotting the little bard. A few mail clad arms pointed before a reply reached Boxil's ears.
"No heroes here. Just soldiers." Came the grumbled, almost complaining response.
"Come around, lets get a better look at you."
The large, inscribed gate opened with a low, heavy creak, and several men dressed in the green livery of Count Joris Drakedoder stood at post. Their hands were relaxed and easy, not nervously fingering their weapons and they numbered a half dozen or so.
"Well now! I never thought we'd see you again." Said a sandy haired young soldier armed with a broadsword and a long dirk. Both weapons were sheathed at his waist, and his mail coif was pulled back for relief from the early spring heat.
"It's Duncan. Remember me? We used to dice together against the southern wall..."
"No heroes here. Just soldiers." Came the grumbled, almost complaining response.
"Come around, lets get a better look at you."
The large, inscribed gate opened with a low, heavy creak, and several men dressed in the green livery of Count Joris Drakedoder stood at post. Their hands were relaxed and easy, not nervously fingering their weapons and they numbered a half dozen or so.
"Well now! I never thought we'd see you again." Said a sandy haired young soldier armed with a broadsword and a long dirk. Both weapons were sheathed at his waist, and his mail coif was pulled back for relief from the early spring heat.
"It's Duncan. Remember me? We used to dice together against the southern wall..."
"Haha, yes of course I remember you!" And i'll be happy to take all your money again if I get the chance.
Boxil had visited many places and met many people during his early days of wandering, he was rarely remembered though, and when he was it was only occasionally in a favorable light. He hoped he hadn't offended too many people here.
He swept his arms wide and pointed to the other guards, "And you! The heroes of song rarely see themselves as such, it is always the bards that crown the legends, and I my friends may get the chance to crown one of you." He winked at them and turned back to face Duncan.
His smile faded from his face as he asked, "Do you think there might... well be work for a bard at Dragons Keep? I've gotten much better."
Boxil had visited many places and met many people during his early days of wandering, he was rarely remembered though, and when he was it was only occasionally in a favorable light. He hoped he hadn't offended too many people here.
He swept his arms wide and pointed to the other guards, "And you! The heroes of song rarely see themselves as such, it is always the bards that crown the legends, and I my friends may get the chance to crown one of you." He winked at them and turned back to face Duncan.
His smile faded from his face as he asked, "Do you think there might... well be work for a bard at Dragons Keep? I've gotten much better."
Last edited by Boxil on Wed Jun 04, 2008 5:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The soldier looked again as Boxil spoke. A frown began to furrow his brow and spread across his face like a wildfire spreads across a field of dry grass.
"Hey.... just a moment here friend. You're not the Motley."
His had went to the sword hilt at his waist.
"Who are you? And why are you pretending to be my friend Motley and besmirch his good name?"
The other solders, once relaxed, now bristled as they waited for the explanation...
"Hey.... just a moment here friend. You're not the Motley."
His had went to the sword hilt at his waist.
"Who are you? And why are you pretending to be my friend Motley and besmirch his good name?"
The other solders, once relaxed, now bristled as they waited for the explanation...
All traces of mirth were gone from the guard now. His expression was one of deadly earnest. The guards around him began to surround the little traveler menacingly.
"Yes, I thought you were someone else. You look a great deal like a bard who used to roam these parts. He was a great singer and storyteller, and I thought you were him returning as he's been away for a while."
The guard's hand went to the hilt of his large sword.
"Now then, you didn't answer my question. Who are you? And why would you pretend to be someone you're not?"
"Yes, I thought you were someone else. You look a great deal like a bard who used to roam these parts. He was a great singer and storyteller, and I thought you were him returning as he's been away for a while."
The guard's hand went to the hilt of his large sword.
"Now then, you didn't answer my question. Who are you? And why would you pretend to be someone you're not?"
Boxil watched the man's hand move to his sword. The halfling rased his hands and pleaded with the guard.
"Now, now, no need to get upset. It was just a misunderstanding. I am a bard as well and I can understand how easy it is to mistake one halfling bard for another. My name is Boxil and I am in search of a great story to tell and some work to fill my stomach while I search."
He forced a smile, hoping to decrease the tension, and offered his hand to Duncan.
"Now, now, no need to get upset. It was just a misunderstanding. I am a bard as well and I can understand how easy it is to mistake one halfling bard for another. My name is Boxil and I am in search of a great story to tell and some work to fill my stomach while I search."
He forced a smile, hoping to decrease the tension, and offered his hand to Duncan.