The Hedge Knight. Part I

[Knox213 10]

The Story of a Hedge Knight

 

The road ahead was broken and the lands were barren, the forest ahead was withered and dead. An old man, accompanied by his squire set up camp for the upcoming night.

 

 

“Ser, we’ve been travelling through these parts for the good part of a month, the witch will not return for some time.” The young squire exclaimed, lips curling into a vague frown. “Aye, that may be, but her accomplices still roam these woods, and we’re not leaving until we kill them.” The Ser answered, a stoic and cold expression appearing on his front.

The squire sighs heavily, giving a light huff as he places a few twigs and branches from a decayed tree onto the growing fire, a few embers dancing upon the tree’s limbs upon impact. The young squire then speaks, blinking his weary orbs. “Ser, for some time now we haven’t been home to Petrus. No ravens bearing message, nor have we really spoken to any travellers on the roads in regards to news from the capital.”

The old Knight unstraps his sword from it’s sash, placing the scabbard beside him. “I was ordered to deliver the emperors justice, as the High Auditor it is what I shall continue to do.” The knight spoke, his tone slow and precise. The young squire glanced briefly to the old knight with a look of confusion upon his visage, pondering for the moment whether the Knight was insane, or suffered extreme memory loss. He then cleared his throat, somewhat muttering unclearly  “...Ser, The Chivay empire was in tatters by the crow when we left, I’d wager the Crow retook their throne. Which means we’re out of that oath.” The old knight gave a croaky grumble, clenching his digits tightly, his leather gloves that dressed his worn hands giving an irritating squeak. He then gave a feisty answer. “The crow may have released the Empire’s Knights from their oaths, though I full well intend to uphold mine.” The squire stands up, brushing himself down before cocking his head on the knight, stiffening his upper lip as he’d exclaim once more. “The old lords were either killed or fled, never to return, our job is finished. Though instead you intend to continue hunting down defenseless women in the name of the creator? There is no honor in that. For fifteen years we’ve travelled, and for all those years we’ve accomplished next to nout. I bet your older brother has accomplished more than we ever did. I’m headed home, no longer will I scrub your battered armour, clean your blooded sword or patch your wounds.” The young squire wanders off into the darkness of the night, his footsteps sounding fainter and fainter through every tread taken.

 

 

As the morning approaches, the old hedge knight ambles back the way he came to find his squire who had abandoned him the night before. Whilst following the path, the old knight gazes towards the grimy ground to see footprints. He leans down to examine the paces. “Chain mailed boots.” he muttered to himself, pursing his lips before straightening them into a thin line, remembering that his squire wore tattered leather boots.

The knight raised up, straightening his posture, rushing to try and catch up with his aide.

 

 

In the nebulous distance, his old orbs make out what appears to be a thick rope hanging from a crumbling tree, a few unclear voices being heard afar along with a callous scream. The old hedge knight proceeds to slowly make his way into the tree line to approach the said voices. As he gets closed, his ears perk up, hearing some chatter coming from a group of men. “To whom do you serve boy? King Andrik? The Canons?!” The young squire shrieked fearfully “I do not know what you’re on about! I swear!”. The old knight decides to approach somewhat closer, his paces cautious, catching the words of the opposing men clearly. “We fought for Maric in the battle of Crow’s folly, we were present when our Lord Godfrey took the capital. We killed  the boy Roy, and now we’ll kill you.” In desperation, the squire calls out loudly, tears rushing down his lithe and subtle cheekbones. “The High Auditor! I serve the Auditor to the Empire of Oren!” The men look to each other laughing roughly, broad leers forming upon their lips as they’d call back. “The empire is dead, King Andrik sits on the throne now.”

 

The hedge knight debates whether to leave his squire for the remarks he said the night before, but instead emerges from the shadows, swiftly drawing his battered blade, a rasp bursting through the tree line as the sword is drawn from it’s scabbard. “Ser! Ser! Save me.” the squire hollered and squealed, pleading for help. The three men turn briskly on their heels, chortling at the old knight. “Is this some form of joke or trick? How’s an old wretched rat like you going to beat three men? Do you have an army hidden behind that tree?” Continuing to chuckle lightly, the old knight walks towards the men, taking an offensive stance, the one handed blade held by his waist area, his left foot sliding behind his right pivoted one, before he’d exclaim ruggedly  “Before I kill you, may I take your names?” The men stop snickering, swiftly drawing each of their own blades, stating their worthless names. “Ser Halferik of Dragonspeak.” the first man said. “Ser Mathius Winchester” the second said. “Jory, a sergeant to the former kingdom of Renatus.” The old Knight places his right hand onto his old blade, holding it with two hands with a firm grip, before snarling at the trio. “Ser Halferik of Dragonspeak, Ser Mathius Winchester, Jory. I sentence you to death.” The three men snigger once more before approaching the old Knight.  

 

The sound of swords slashing and clashing against each other in the yonder are heard, the sound of pained screams and yelps following. The battle was over, and the old knight strolls forth to the young Mathius Winchester, his worn out armor clanking with each pace taken. Mathius turns onto his injured back, raising his hands in defence to protect his dirty face, panting as he’d speak to the old knight “W-Who are you? Let me live! M-m-mercy!” The old knight grips his bloodied blade with both of his hands, digits cramped over each other as he’d hold it steadily, before raising it swiftly up, driving it down in an erect downwards jab to thrust it cleanly through Mathius’ chest, reeling his head back and spitting a good amount of saliva into the man’s face, before growling “I am Ser Dederick Varodyr, the high auditor to former Justicar Lothar.”

 

 

The High Auditor, Dederick proceeds to wipe the blood off his shabby foil on the expired grass beside the men he slaughtered,  before sheathing it into it’s equally used scabbard, marching forth to his tied up squire, freeing him from the bindings as they make their way to Oren.

 

((Just a small little something i'm working on with my return, not many people knew I played this character, some may even deny his existence. Part two will follow in the upcoming weeks. A big thanks to my good friend Axel for making the final edits.))

[Raptorious 1899]

((Nice post, nice to see Dedrick back, was pretty sure you told me you killed him off a while ago though, so this is a nice surprise.))

[Knox213 10]

((Nice post, nice to see Dedrick back, was pretty sure you told me you killed him off a while ago though, so this is a nice surprise.))

((Nah, I planned to but I couldn't find a fitting ending, so I just axed him for a while. Would be harsh to put a character like him to bed without doing much with him. We'll see where this all takes off.))

[Heero 4092]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.