The Squire Part I

[Knox213 10]

The Squire Part I

After a long journey on horseback, the squire reaches a familiar landscape, as his undernourished horse trotted slowly on the stoned path. As he glances around he noticed two young boys carrying a recently killed deer, a girl of similar age humming a pleasant tune as the three stroll down the path, carrying the deer further towards the woods. The squire would poke a wry leer onto his lips, his ears not heard any form of song or chant since the inn he stayed in with Dedrick Varodyr, a few months back.

 

As the squire continues bestriding his steed, tugging gently on the reins to make it move a bit faster down the path, feet kept in the leather saddle stirrups,  he’d come across a stone bridge. When he begins crossing the overpass he’d hear a faint song being chanted within the distance. A group of glad and proud soldiers sing together, swords held high, all bloodied, “Drakenburgh, Drakenburgh. The dwarves went running, they all turned away. We smashed their lines and took their lives, an inspiring sight for me.” The young squire, Quentyn, pulls briskly on the reins of his mount, riding swiftly off to avoid detection, as he continues on towards the borders of Oren. He makes his way through the blossomed forest of Fiandra, pursing his lips together before whistling an old folk song.  As he wanders through the woodland he comes  three men wearing white tabards  with a golden lorraine cross upon it. A large male, towering at the height of 6’5, sits firmly on a small chair, bringing a smooth rock back and forth on the edge of his axe, sharpening it sternly. Another man, with an erect posture, stands with a crossbow aimed to the ground, a digit curled around it’s wooden trigger,  whilst the third lad, with a shorter build then his brothers, rests upright,  looking up towards the cloudy sky, a wooden pike held in his right hand, the armored fingers curled tightly around the shaft of it.

 

 

The young Roost boy inclines his dome  to the men, and they glare suspiciously back at him. The trio march in unison towards the squire, their armor rattling, the tallest one wearing full plate and obviously more brutish.As they stand a few metres away, they’d roughly speak up, “Halt! State your name, place of residence and business within these parts!” Quentyn pulls sharply on the reins of his horse, clearing his throat as he’d gulp, before responding “Quentyn Roost, as for residence? I haven’t been home since I was a boy, don’t even remember the name of the place anymore. My business? Returning home to see my father, Robert Roost” The three soldiers glance at each other, bobbing their armored heads in approval, the shortest giving metalic chuckle under his helmet, before replying “Well lad, my name is Dorian. I am a footman of the Holy Order of Amyas.” The man pauses for a brief moment before resuming his speech, pointing his left hand’s index finger at a few corpses draping on an elderly tree “My travelling companions are Ragnar and Grim, and we were wondering what you make of this?”

 

 

Quentyn Roost looks up to see the corpses of the elves dangling from the tree, the men all laughing grimly under their helmets. Quentyn would ponder for a short moment, suddenly inquiring, tone hesitant, “Why?” Ragnar looks to the squire, his two handed battle axe held in his right arm, digits clenched tightly around the handle, before he’d budge up his headgear’s visor, two oceanic blue orbs visible, before he’d speak firmly, his tone cold and stoic“They killed our King,  boy.” The feeling of confusion covered Quentyn for a while, before he’d exclaim with a hint of anger in his voice,  “Justice for our King!” The three man-at-arms look to each other, chanting for the same, “Justice for our king!”

Quentyn tilts his cranium to the three before questioning,  “May I be given the road? I have to find my father.” The three soldat’s nod their heads,  standing apart, allowing young Quentyn passage. The Roost squire hurries on, yanking the reins of his steed once again, continuing to travel through the woods,  taking a few seconds to examine the hanging mali’s as he trotted past them.

 

((Axel will be posting the squire series from here on out, where as I will cotninue posting the Hedge Knight. If anybody is interested in still part-taking in the series, drop me PM or skype me.))

 

The Hedge Knight Series:

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/123743-the-hedge-knight-part-i/

https://www.lordofthecraft.net/topic/123867-the-hedge-knight-part-ii/

[Heero 4092]

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