Paladin the path begins

Tar’vid had expected to feel a sharp stab of pain as Luna drove her dagger forward... but there was nothing. He opened his eyes, seeing a tall olive-skinned elf holding back Luna’s arm firmly.

“There’s no need to do this princess, I have another way out” the elf whispered gently to Luna.

Luna dropped the knife with a clatter, collapsing to her knees and sobbing uncontrollably. Tar’vid knelt down beside her, embracing her and kissing her forehead lightly.

“It’s okay Luna, it’s over now... I think?” he whispered, looking up at the tall elf and wondering who she was.

“I was going to kill you Tar’vid, what the hells was I thinking. What sort of person am I!?” she sobbed upon his shoulder.

“Princess there’s another way, you were perfectly justified in your actions... considering the situation” the elf explained calmly.

“What is it Deadra, how do we get ourselves out of this?” Luna asked hopefully.

“Elldran may have learned of your location Tar’vid, he will most certainly come for you... and kill you, a dead man can’t refute his claims after all” Deadra said earnestly.

“We have to get you out of Keldran, far away... there’s a Paladin army only a week’s journey from here and Keldran would be destroyed should it come to war, there are powerful players involved here and I fear Elldran is merely a bit player” Deadra told him, making her way to the cell door.

There came a loud explosion from above them, causing the three of them to stumble under the pressure, Deadra gazed back fearfully.

“Your uncle’s lost his mind princess, he’s assaulting the prison!” Deadra drew her sword, peering out the door.

“Guards, let no one pass you!” Deadra shouted, “Come Tar’vid, you cannot be here,” she told him, grabbing his arm and dragging him from the cell.

“Princess, stay with the guards, you cannot be a part of this!”

Deadra dragged him from the cell, leaving Luna behind. He saw the guards forming a wall of shields, spears levelled, then came the crash of steel on wood and the screams of injured men and women. The sounds died off as they went deeper into the prison complex, the deeper areas seeming less well cared for, the doors made of a dark metal that shimmered unnaturally in the low light.

“Stasis cells, for beings too dangerous to be out in the world... yet too powerful to be killed” Deadra told him quickly, seemingly reading his mind.

They descended more stairs, Deadra striking a torch as they went along a narrow passageway, the dark feeling oppressive. After a long while, they arrived at a dead end, the stonework slick with moss and damp.

“This is one of the several ways out of here Tar’vid, from out of here you will enter a cave, at the exit I have left you provisions and clothing to see you out of Keldran. The patrols have returned for the winter and so you will have a clear path north... please don’t be caught, the result will destroy Keldran” Deadra told him, almost pleadingly.

“I’ll do my best, just know I’ll never let Luna down, not again” he replied, meaning every word.

“That’s all I needed to here, let’s go,” she told him with a smile, pushing open a hidden door in the stonework.

Deadra stepped through the gap, walking into the oddly well-lit cavern.

“How odd, this cave should be... Tar’vid run!” Deadra shouted to him as black armoured figures emerged, seeming to detach from the walls of the cave.

“Run Paladin and she dies, right here, right now!” came the shout of Eldrin’s voice.

Deadra stood defiantly, but was encircled by spear and shield armed warriors, even if she possessed his own sword skills there was no way the elf would live.

Tar’vid stepped out into the cavern, more of the black armoured elves emerging from the shadows.

“Let her leave Eldrin, your fight’s with me!” he called out, unable to distinguish one warrior from another.

“Perhaps I will, though if she was aiding in your escape... it’s treason!” Eldrin shouted back, emerging from the shadows. “When last we met you were a beaten, bloody mess... now you’ve miraculously healed Tar’vid”.

Eldrin walked past his men surrounding Deadra, standing mere feet from him, Eldrin sneered as he took the measure of him.

“How about a wager Tar’vid?” Eldrin asked, turning away and staring at Deadra. “One you can’t refuse of course... a duel, to the death of course, should you win I will allow you both to leave. If I win then not only will I take your body back to the king as proof of your attack... but Deadra will confirm it” Eldrin said, pointing to Deadra.

“Don’t trust him Tar’vid, take your chances alone!” Deadra spat back.

Her face suddenly changed, smirking before dropping her defensive posture.

“Swear it on the Yindar Eldrin, swear it on them and I will accept your terms”

Eldrin seemed pained at the proposal, his duty to his father conflicting with his religion.

“Very well!” he replied angrily. “Give him a sword, spear and shield, this will be done properly as Vorkaine decrees!” Eldrin declared, motioning one of his guards to give Tar’vid his weapons and shield.

Tar’vid’s training with pole arms was minimal, but he knew that to give his up would put him at a massive disadvantage, Eldrin took a spear and shield from another of his guards before the remainder of them stood to attention, clashing their spears against shields in a crash of noise that echoed through the caves. Deadra came over to Tar’vid, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Eldrin’s dangerous Paladin, I hope you’re the best of your order Tar’vid, for I know he’s bested Paladins in the past... If you win though don’t worry, he’s as pious as he is arrogant”

Deadra stood near the hidden entrance to the prison, a space roughly forty feet square lay open for their duel. The clashing of shields stopped abruptly, Eldrin breaking into a jog and coming straight for him. Tar’vid began to strafe to his right hoping to break Eldrin’s momentum, it was a futile effort though as the elf nimbly closed the distance, thrusting his spear forwards and hitting Tar’vid’s shield. The force of the blow was incredible and Tar’vid found himself knocked backwards, his arm numbed by the impact. Eldrin smiled wickedly, advancing on him once more.

“I confess Paladin, I was slightly nervous challenging you, my father seems to hold you in high regard”.

Tar’vid ignored his words, parrying another thrust with his shield, before lunging in with a strike that glanced off Eldrin’s greaves.

“Excellent technique, though you lack speed” Eldrin mocked, kicking at Tar’vid’s shield and knocking him down once more.

Eldrin thrust at him several times more, Tar’vid barely avoiding each blow as the elf backed him to near the wall. In spear combat, he was clearly outmatched and he scanned around for an advantage. Again Eldrin came at him, parrying another thrust before the spear tip banged on his shield once more sending splinters out the back of it. Tar’vid had an idea, raising his shield he baited Eldrin to thrust low, the elf taking the opportunity instantly. The spear came underneath his shield, the tip slicing his shin painfully, Tar’vid ignored it though, driving down the steel rimmed shield as hard as he could. The effect was as he’d planned, the top of the spear splintered and broke, Eldrin retreated several steps smiling crookedly.

“Excellent strategy Paladin, though it won’t help you!” Eldrin said, drawing his sword.

Tar’vid smiled at Eldrin, causing the elf to look at him suspiciously. Tar’vid reversed his grip on the spear, pulling back and launching it at Eldrin like a javelin. The elf raised his shield at the last second, Tar’vid’s spear smashing through the wooden planks and piercing several inches through it. Eldrin dropped the shield immediately, the eight-foot protruding shaft of the spear making it useless now. Tar’vid tossed his own shield away, drawing the elven blade. He admired its craftsmanship, the blade was to an elf an arming sword, but to a human like himself, it was a bastard sword like the ones he’d trained with all his life.

“I don’t understand why you’d throw away your advantage Paladin, but you will not win, I have your measure” Eldrin taunted, possibly more arrogantly than before.

Tar’vid held his guard high as they came to within striking range, the elf’s height granting him slightly more reach, Eldrin thrust at him and Tar’vid parried the blow, stepping inside Eldrin’s guard and striking low, the blade raked along the elf’s armoured thigh until hitting the strap, slicing through the leather. Eldrin backed up, swinging his blade and putting a little distance between them, his face was flustered now and Tar’vid knew he was worried about his guard being passed so easily.

“You look worried Eldrin, sure you don’t need your guards to step in?” Tar’vid teased, using the elf’s tactics on him.

“I need no one to defeat a human, let alone a Paladin!” he screamed back.

Eldrin charged at him, the elf’s thigh plate falling away from the damage. Tar’vid ducked the wild swing, then narrowly avoided Eldrin’s kick that would have broken his leg, Tar’vid rolled aside, striking up at Eldrin’s face and as the elf moved his blade to block Tar’vid reversed the cut, slashing deeply into Eldrin’s now exposed thigh, drawing a cry of pain from the elf. Eldrin dropped his blade, clutching at his leg and trying to stem the flow of blood. His guards lowered their spears, getting ready to advance on him and Deadra. Tar’vid placed the tip of his blade at Eldrin’s throat, the elf refusing to cower away from him.

“Do it!” Eldrin spat, determined defiance on his face.

“Do you yield?” Tar’vid offered, hoping the elf would honour his bargain should he live.

“The duel was to the death Paladin, I will not dishonour the Gods by breaking the terms”.

Tar’vid didn’t want to kill Eldrin, regardless of what he had done before, he had fought well and dispatching him felt dishonourable.

“Then I am willing to alter the terms, you let myself and Deadra go, and in return, we don’t report this little skirmish to the king... and let you live of course” Tar’vid said calmly, looking over to Deadra who nodded her assent to the terms.

Eldrin just stared at him for a long time.

“Do you really want to bleed out here in this cave?” Tar’vid asked him, looking around at the damp and gloomy surroundings.

“Very well!” Eldrin shouted out, Tar’vid moved his blade away quickly and stepped back.

As he looked to Deadra she had already vanished, presumably back into the prison. Tar’vid sheathed the elven blade and walked towards the cave mouth, keeping as much distance between himself and the black armoured figures as possible, then they lowered their spears once more, mere feet away from him.

“Let him leave!” Eldrin shouted, being attended to by several of his guards. “I agreed to the terms and swore to the Gods, I will not break such an oath and be damned.”

The guards backed away and Tar’vid left the cave, spotting the bag Deadra had told him about hanging from a rocky outcrop. He left the cave into darkness, finding the road after only a short walk. Being sure of his footing he broke into a run, wishing to put as much distance as possible between himself and Eldrin’s guards.

Tar’vid made his way north as Deadra had instructed him, keeping to fields and glades just in case there were any patrols returning late from the borders, he’d had enough encounters with elves and bandits for one lifetime, electing to avoid the roads as much as possible now.

Tar’vid had been walking for days now, stopping only when exhaustion forced him to do so, hiding in ditches and hedgerows as much as possible.

Tar’vid woke up after days of travel, clambering from under the hedgerow he’d slept in and finding the ground peppered with frost, thinking himself lucky he was immune to the cold. Stretching out his stiff limbs he looked northwards, seeing dark clouds amassing. He pulled the cloak Deadra had left him over his head and tied the hood tightly. The garment had seen better days, being tattered and torn from his adventures in the ditches and hedgerows of Keldran. If the order ever chronicled his life, he was most certainly going to leave this part out he thought.

“Catching all the breaks lately!” he mumbled to himself as he set off.

Tar’vid kept close to the road, as the forest off to his left seemed more ominous now than ever in the low light. The impending rain came down several hours later, in a deluge that forced him back onto the road with the fields becoming boggy, the slick mud sucking at his boots. Tar’vid scraped the wet mud off his boots using the cobbles of the road, then pulling his cloak tightly to himself once more he set off against the driving winter rain. The rain finally stopped as night fell, Tar’vid reaching the branching track between Fernhaven and the northern realms he knew little of. He found a dry patch of ground under the forest canopy, sitting himself down heavily with a sigh. He may be immune to cold, but wet clothes were no fun to wear and he tossed aside the rag that had been his cloak angrily. When Tar’vid woke the next morning he couldn’t remember having fallen asleep. He stood lethargically, stepping back onto the road and deciding he would go on to Fernhaven as he’d originally planned weeks ago when an elven kingdom wasn’t after him. Even if there were elves there, the swelling on his face had masked his identity back in Keldran and besides, outside of the upper-class elves, nobody knew he had even been there. Tar’vid proceeded along the road at his leisure, feeling safer now he was beyond Keldran’s borders and with the winter beginning to set in he was sure bandits would be a rarity.

After he had been on the road for several hours he heard the distinct rumble of a waggon’s wheels from behind him. Tar’vid stayed close to the roadside to allow it to pass, but instead, the waggon pulled up keeping a steady pace with him.

“I say, young man!” called a rather portly man, dressed in what he could only assume was the latest fashion of fur and velvet.

“What can I do for you, Mister...?” Tar’vid replied, looking up to the driver’s bench where the man sat beside another, more grumpy looking fellow, displaying a rather nasty looking cudgel darkened with dried blood.

“Genstark, Bruhnel Genstark. And the question is more what can I do for you young master Paladin” he replied pleasantly.

Tar’vid was going to deny his being a Paladin, but Bruhnel was calmly tapping near his left eye and he remembered the mark on his face, that was going to be a problem going forward he knew.

“Okay then, take me as interested. What can you do for me Mister Genstark?” Tar’vid asked curiously, realising he hadn’t removed his hand from his sword pommel since the cart had come nearby.

“Well... and no offence to you my boy, but you look like you are rather low down on your luck and I happen to need men of what I can only assume are talents you must possess,” Bruhnel said to him with a slight flourish of his hands.

Tar’vid got the point of what he’d said, releasing his grip on the sword pommel.

“I can fight if that’s what you’re asking me. But I won’t participate in anything illegal mister Genstark” he replied.

Bruhnel slapped his leg happily, waving a hand to his side. Tar’vid heard a slackening of bowstring tension, realising he’d had a bow drawn on him the whole time.

“I am sorry my boy, but you can’t be too careful these days. We’ve been accosted by bandits... several times since leaving Brownfields last week, and I fear it’s only getting worse. And so I come to my offer, work for me and I will provide you coin for services given... safety in numbers I give you for free. What do you say my boy, it’s a good offer?” Bruhnel asked with a smile, Tar’vid really couldn’t think of a good reason not to.

He felt he would be a fool to refuse, as he’d had no money since... well, ever. He accepted Bruhnel’s offer gladly, Bruhnel leant down to shake his hand enthusiastically.

“You won’t regret it, my boy!” Genstark said with glee, motioning for Tar’vid to fall in behind the waggon.

Tar’vid obliged as the waggon set off once more. Seven others marched along in full battle dress, each of them eyeing him suspiciously. Tar’vid kept pace with the group easily as they passed through the ominous canopy of the forest quietly, feeling several of the other mercenaries eyes on him throughout, it was starting to annoy him.

“How you doing back there lad?” asked one of the mercenaries quietly, he had dark skin and a long oiled beard that was tied at the base with a green ribbon.

“I’m fine, but my name’s Tar’vid” he replied grumpily, still feeling irritated.

“Forgive me Tar’vid, I meant no offence, I am Morkin” he responded, inclining his head slightly and tapped his forehead with his forefinger.

“None taken Morkin, I’ve had a rough few weeks is all” Tar’vid replied, running a hand through his hair.

“Was that painful to have done?” Morkin asked, eyeing his paladin mark.

“Not really, it was more of a surprise really” he replied, raising a hand to his face.

They talked a little more about things far and wide, Morkin telling him about being freed from the slave pits of Lordrim with his brother Karhald by Bruhnel some years ago, pointing out the hulking form of Karhald in the column. Tar’vid found the term ‘slave’ alien to him and Morkin must have thought he was mocking him for a moment.

“You truly do not know!?” Morkin asked, his eyes screwed tightly in disbelief.

“Truly, I was a rather sheltered child, and rather neglected my studies... I wish now I’d taken them more seriously”

Morkin explained the selling and buying of people in Lordrim’s slave market, the subsequent tale of Morkin’s capture appalled Tar’vid to his core. Morkin and Karhald’s father had been murdered when they had been small, their mother had either shared his father’s fate or had also been sold. In Lordrim they had been trained in the fighting pits and there Karhald had taken a spear through the throat, it hadn’t killed him, but had taken his voice away, making the tall man even more intimidating, Tar’vid looked over to the shaven head of Karhald. The giant carried a great spear and Tar’vid could just make out the scar on his neck beneath his mighty beard.

“Mister Genstark bought us from the pits, and now we work for him,” Morkin told him bluntly.

Tar’vid seemed puzzled in the language Morkin had used.

“You said work for, are you not still a slave Morkin?” Tar’vid asked, scratching his head puzzled.

“Not since Genstark freed us, on the day he bought us if you can believe it. Told us that we were free to leave if we wished, though he offered good pay for hard work. My brother and I have been with him since then” Morkin elaborated, adjusting his sword belt.

Several hours had passed by when they eventually reached a large fortified building, Bruhnel halting the waggon before the gates. Tar’vid peered round the side of the waggon as a large group of armed guards approached the waggon slowly, weapons drawn.

“State your business at Redmane’s Hall traveller!” called a woman from the head of the group.

“Now now Reine, is that any way to address your favourite guest?” replied Bruhnel playfully.

Tar’vid saw the woman visibly slump at the sound of Bruhnel’s voice, though she waved the waggon in through the large iron-studded gates. Reine though caught Tar’vid’s arm as he passed her by.

“Your new... and a Paladin at that boy, Genstark really does have a silver tongue, don’t he. Go on boy, just be wary of that merchant, he’s bad news” she told him before releasing her grip.

“Come Tar’vid!” barked Morkin, pulling him onwards.

As they passed into the courtyard Tar’vid looked back to see Reine and the other guards had entered a small building to the side of the gate. A light patter of rain starting as darkness began to fall. The waggon rolled into a large coach house, with the rest of Bruhnel’s mercenaries went into the tavern, and as he knew nothing of unhitching a waggon went inside after the others.

Tar’vid entered the tavern area slowly, it had been some time since he’d been in one and it reminded him of home for the first time since leaving Whitecliff. The bar was incredibly busy so close to winter and he scanned the tavern for Bruhnel’s men, spotting Morkin at the far end of the room, who waved him over to a large table vigorously. Tar’vid weaved through the crowded room, avoiding the uneven floorboards that threatened to trip him, he sat beside Morkin, who had somehow already drained a mug of ale, starting now on his second with gusto.

“Tar’vid, my new friend!” boomed Morkin, throwing an arm around Karhald.

“Karhald, this is our new friend Tar’vid, he’s a Paladin you know. Strange that after a lifetime of never seeing one, I see hundreds in under a month!” Morkin continued.

Karhald raised an eyebrow as he looked at Tar’vid with a new sense of respect, the large man seeming even more intimidating up close.

“You know Henselt, I heard one Paladin is worth a hundred knights,” a pale mercenary with dark straggly hair told Henselt, who himself looked almost identical but for a crude tattoo of a woman on his cheek which badly covered a large burn.

Tar’vid wondered if they truly believed that, or if they were simply mocking him.

“A hundred poxy elven knights perhaps Heinrick” Henselt grumbled, downing his drink steadily.

The rest of the mercenaries laughed as Bruhnel came to the table, tossing a pouch of coins onto it.

“Drink and food are on me tonight gentlemen, I’m turning in for the night... try not to get too drunk as it’s an early start tomorrow” he added, before leaving them for the evening.

The mercenaries cheered Bruhnel loudly as the serving girls brought more wine and ale, then periodically brought food platters of meat, bread and cheese as they avoided the groping hands of the mercenaries. Tar’vid noted that like himself Karhald drank sparsely, always keeping his eyes on the other patrons.

As the hours passed by as the company became more and more intoxicated, Morkin tried to start several conversations with him, but Tar’vid couldn’t understand his slurred words in what he could only guess was Morkin’s native tongue. Eventually, most of the company had fallen asleep at the table, Karhald he noted had left them some time ago. Tar’vid sat picking at a hunk of bread as the tavern was filled with the sound of snoring men and women. He decided to get some fresh air, beginning to feel more alone than he had been on the road. He threaded through the mass of human bodies, quickly ducking outside and closing the door behind him.

“Can’t sleep?” asked one of the serving girls, wrapped up in a thick fur coat.

“Something like that, it’s been so long since I’ve been around so many people. It’s kind of oppressive” Tar’vid replied, stretching his legs.

She was silent for a while and Tar’vid began to walk away.

“So... that tattoo, what does it mean exactly?” she asked curiously, walking over to him.

“It’s the mark of Tor’Dorvan, the symbol of my order” he replied as she stroked the mark with her fingers.

“What order is that then, there’s so many of them these days,” she asked gently.

“I’m a Paladin... well a journeyman I guess, I’m Tar’vid,” he said, offering his hand.

“I’m Diana” she replied, shaking it timidly.

She took a step back from him, her mouth suddenly agape, Tar’vid had been so distracted he hadn’t heard the arrow that slammed into his shoulder, making him stumble forward, knocking Diana to the ground with him. He rolled onto his back, snapping the arrow and feeling the tip dig into his shoulder blade. Diana screamed, bolting for the door. As he looked over an arrow struck her in the gut, felling her like a tree. Several figures, all dressed in black emerged from the shadows and Tar’vid stood up quickly, reaching for his sword... but he’d left it inside the tavern and he cursed under his breath. Tar’vid backed up as the figures advanced on him, seeing now there were two of them ahead, hearing another advancing from behind him. One of the attackers loosed an arrow at him and he threw himself towards the tavern door, taking a glancing strike on his thigh. Diana now lay in front of him groaning in pain, the arrow still jutting from her belly.

“Help me Tar’vid!” she wailed in agony.

He heard one of the attackers say something in elvish, pointing at him angrily, he knew they recognised him, though Diana shouting his name had given his identity away regardless. Tar’vid scrambled back to his feet as another arrow buried itself in the ground where he’d been mere moments before. One of the other elves shouted out as another elf drew it’s bow back. The elf loosed its arrow and Tar’vid focused with all his energy, snatching the arrow from the air as the elves stared on in disbelief. Tar’vid threw himself forwards trying to gut one of the elves with the taken arrow, but these weren’t normal bandits. These were trained killers and their shock was momentary. The elf sidestepped his strike deftly, drawing its blade in a fluid motion and slashing Tar’vid across the back, dropping him to the ground in pain. The elves advanced cautiously on him now, clearly wary of anyone who could snatch an arrow in flight. Tar’vid got back to his feet slowly, the pain making his legs wobble awkwardly. All three attackers had drawn their blades now and continued to surround him. He clutched the arrow tightly in his hand, though he knew he was a dead man. No one could defeat three trained swordsman armed only with essentially a small pointy stick.

“Come on, I won’t die easily!” he shouted at them through gritted teeth.

Suddenly a spear point burst through the elf’s face closest to the tavern, quickly being thrown aside as Karhald silently walked forward flicking the blood from his spear’s tip. Tar’vid nodded his thanks as he dashed over to Karhald, picking up the fallen elf’s sword without breaking stride. The blade was similar to the one he’d left in the tavern, it was handy elves were all armed well. Tar’vid had thought the other two might flee, but they stood defiantly as he took several swipes with the blade. Elvish craftsmanship truly was the best he thought, a smile creeping onto his face. Karhald levelled his spear and Tar’vid fell into his fighting stance naturally. The elves advanced cautiously on them and Karhald was the first to engage, thrusting at his attacker, keeping him at bay as Tar’vid’s attacker thrust and cut at him recklessly. Tar’vid, though injured, was a better swordsman, parrying each blow effortlessly as he raked his blade down his attacker’s forearm, making her cry out in pain as she dropped her sword. Tar’vid punched her in the face, his sensibilities stopping him from killing her, but knocking her out cold. He moved quickly to aid Karhald, killing the last attacker who couldn’t stand against the combined assault. He ran over to Diana who still lay with an arrow in her, moaning in a low voice. Tar’vid put his hand on her gently.

“This is going to hurt Diana... a lot” he cautioned her.

She nodded, gripping his hand tightly. Tar’vid pulled the arrow free and Diana screamed in pain. Tar’vid offered a silent prayer to the saints, finding the arrow wasn’t barbed. Tar’vid heard stirring from inside the tavern as he said his prayer, healing the wound, though more slowly than he’d have liked. A trickle of blood ran from his eye as he stood slowly, striding over to the unconscious assassin, where Karhald stood ready, waiting to pierce her with his spear at her throat.

“Let’s find out who she is first Karhald” Tar’vid told him, grabbing the woman’s hood and pulling it free.