[Solo] [Flashback] The Path to Knighthood: Retrieval

by **Don** on June 13th, 2012, 10:02 pm

Timestamp: 13th of Spring, 508AV.

The sun had begun to set over the wildlands. The dark shadows began to creep, stretching across the lands like rubber. Soon the sun would be gone completely; and those that roamed the wilderness would be at the mercy of the beasts that owned it. Many brave travellers died at the falling of the night, left unaware to what exactly killed them due to the sheer darkness that encompassed the land. Shades of black and grey were predominant amongst the night, and without a fire or some other source of light, one would be surely lost. Donathon had been wise enough to make a fire before the night had completely fallen, collecting sticks and logs from the trees around him. His two companions had been a help, two large men from Sylira, each aspiring to become cooks for the Syliran Knights. For some reason, either of these cooks had arms like barrels, and were capable of ripping a man in half with their hands alone.

Donathon had been tasked with retrieving a rich mans daughter; who had seemingly roamed off into the Wildlands looking for her friend. The rich man had given the two aspiring-cooks to Donathon as protection, and while they were rather slow and quite dumb; they did the job. Already had one saved Don from getting ambushed by a stalking wolf, and the other had stopped him from walking into a bear-trap and losing his foot. Don figured that he owed them, and had already planned to give them the mizas he would receive when the man’s daughter had been retrieved. It was only just, they saved his life, and now he would help them in theirs.

“So, Groth, Anthor, what inspires you to become cooks for the Syliran Knights?” Don asked, warming his unprotected hands over the small fire. Its embers shot up into the sky, crackling and fizzing like a wildfire.

“We want to help knights, and people who want to become knights. Like you.” Groth, the larger and balder of the two replied. He was rather large in the stomach area, yet a large portion of it was sculpted muscle. He had barely any hair remaining on his head; and what was left was grey. He was not that old, but clearly stress had hit him at a young age.

“Well, that is noble. Why have you not yet joined the Knights?” Don asked, driving a large piece of wolf meat onto a sharp stick. He observed it for a moment, before placing it over the fire to cook.

“Not good enough sir. We will be one day.” Anthor replied, less chubbier and with far more hair than his brother. He smiled an almost toothless-grin, which only made Don smile and shake his head.

“I am sure you are, don’t worry. Everything takes time in life. It’s why I am not a knight as of yet. I will be one day though, and you will both be great cooks.” Don laughed, watching as his meat slowly began to roast.

The trio sat in a small forest clearing, almost through the forest they had been travelling in. Soon they would be on the other side, and one step closer to the nobles daughter. Don was not an excellent tracker, though he had traced the girls footsteps so far on the journey; and he was confident that he was going the right way. It was only a matter of time.

by **Don** on June 14th, 2012, 10:29 am

The next morning, Donathon awoke with a startle. Groth loomed over him, rucksack filled and face smiling. The morning sun shot rays of light past him, causing Don to squint and inadvertently rub his eyes. He was tired, yet he knew there was still a task at hand. He had to find this little girl, he had sworn it; and every oath was to be upheld. The sunshine allowed him to see clearly once again, and Don immediately noticed the small tracks that lead out of the forest clearing. He had not seen it when they made camp, yet he knew. The girl had been here. Donathon quickly scrambled to his feet, and took his sword from Groth’s hand. Anthor was standing a few feet behind him, splashing his canteen of water over his face.

“We need to get moving, the noblemans daughter has been through here.” Don exclaimed, waving a hand towards the footprints. Groth nodded, and followed Don as he began a light jog after the track. The rain from the past day had left the tracks muddy, yet they were deep; deep enough to follow without having to look too closely. The trio soon broke into a sprint as they followed the tracks, which only seemed to grow fresher and fresher by the metre. Even still, Donathon knew the girl had a day’s head start, and he would not be able to catch up to her without further effort.

The forest soon paved way to open fields and rolling green hills. The sun was at full strength in the sky, the sky itself only dotted with white wisps of cloud. It was a perfect day in comparison to the few before it, and Don breathed a sigh of relief as he noticed the clear weather. It would only help the tracking, and make the tracks more visible, not wash away with the pouring rain. As the trio stopped at Don’s hand signal to do so, the knight-hopeful spoke clearly and uncomfortably. They were on the edge of the forest, with nothing but rolling green before them.

“The girl has been taken by Tyveth knows what.” He stated, pointing down at two new tracks that intervened on the first. Groth scratched his head confused, though Anthor understood. He walked up to the tracks and bent down by them, then stared up at Don. “Wildmen, I think. It looks like heavy boot tracks, not shoes like the girls.” He stood up and brushed himself off, and Don smiled. These two were proving more useful by the hour.

“If that is the case, we better find her sooner than later. I would rather not return a girl in several pieces, her father would not be happy. Nor would I be pleased to see it. I swore I would find her alive, and I plan to do so. Let’s keep moving.” With that, he broke into a run down into the hills, one hand rested upon the hilt of his sword.

They would find her.

by **Don** on June 14th, 2012, 11:12 am

Don’s legs ached from the continuous running, and his calves burnt like a thousand hot coals had been spilled over them. Groth and Anthor were beginning to fall behind, their stubby legs barely able to carry their large frames any further. The tracks were as obvious as the nose on a man’s head, and so far they had led them on a straight path through the plains. They had encountered nor seen nobody, and so far the road ahead was looking safe. As the vigorous running began to eat away at his very muscles, Don stopped to take a breath, his eyes glued to the tracks before him. They were large and thick, and it appeared as though the men had not been light footed.

“Bless Tyveth, this is tiring.” He puffed, coughing and spitting upon the grass. He was not a regular spitter; yet when his mouth felt like a cave of saliva there was nothing else he could do to rid of it.

Groth approached his right, and Anthor his left. The two also stopped, twice as tired as the man. He wondered if they were half-fat and half actual insides, as the sweat that dripped off them could have been compared to a waterfall.

“The men have slowed here.” Anthor stated, pointing at the tracks. The footprints began to become closer together, signifying that the men had begun a walk and ceased running. Don was happy to have the two here, not only were they a help; but they were teaching him things in the process. These were skills he would definitely apply in the future.

“Then if they have slowed down, they are growing fatigued. We cannot stop for much longer, or they will begin to move again.” Don stated, hand gripping tight around the hilt of his sword. Both men nodded, yet both were still trying to regain their breath. Don knew now was not the time to falter, and continued the journey in a light jog. He was not moving as fast as he had been before, yet neither were these men. Groth and Anthor soon followed him in the jog, yet they moved nearly twice as slow as the far fitter man.

Almost an hour passed, and midday had begun to approach. Clouds begun to sweep the lands, yet they were light enough to signify they brought no rain. The two brothers were nearly on the verge of death, and Don could tell he was not far behind. But finally their consistent pace had granted hope. As they moved over the crest of a hill, Don raised a hand. The brothers stopped, and each of the three dropped into a crawl. At the bottom of a hill, Don could see the prize: a small girl, adorned in a light blue dress with flowing auburn hair. Two men loomed over her like giants, each clad in thick leather, bastard swords in their grasp. Two tents had been erected, and a fire lay beneath a stick that cooked meat. They were having a rest stop; quite unaware of their pursuers.

“When they expect it least, we will strike. Do not harm the girl, whatever you do. This chase has been a competition, and she our prize. Do not kill the men either, until their true intentions are evident. I will deal with them personally.”

by **Don** on June 14th, 2012, 11:56 am

Don and the brothers watched the two for a while, no more than thirty minutes. They kept the girl free of bonds or magical bindings, yet threatened her with slaps or punches when she tried to move. It didn’t take long to fathom that she was their hostage. Groth had almost gave their position away by yelling at the men, though a covering hand over his lips stopped such a situation occurring. Instead, he only grimaced every time the men threatened the girl. Don himself wanted to shout out at them, yet he knew that would give away their position; and the element of surprise would be lost entirely. He knew the only thing to do was keep quiet until the right moment arose, and he could move in to free the girl.

“When they leave, we will move in.” Don whispered, glancing to the brothers that lied by his right side. They both nodded, and Anthor pulled a frying pan from a string on his rucksack.

“I’ll whack em, whack em until they bleed.” He laughed, though only quietly enough for the companions to hear. Don pressed a smirk, yet was not truly amused.

“Just leave them alive. Only injure them enough so they cannot fight, and we can retrieve the girl. We do not know their intentions. For all we know, they could be thinking that they are taking her home. Even if they are heading in the wrong direction.” Don replied, and Groth agreed with a stern nod. These men could have thought they took the girl with noble intentions, of returning her to her family. If that had been the case; they were going the completely wrong way.

“We should make an attack soon though, or they’ll get away!” Groth stated, his voice almost loud enough to blow their cover. Thankfully, it did not.

“As soon as they begin to pack those tents, we will strike. Tyveth knows why they have even erected them, if they plan to move on. And if they are making camp, this is a foolish place to do so. Wildmen would have them for breakfast tomorrow morning. Patience is a virtue, my friends.”

Almost an hour passed, an hour that was spent in complete silence. Don knew that patience was a virtue, and it was patience that got him so far in life. Without it, he would be only half the man he was. As the hour began to come to a close, the men began to knock over the tents that they sat under; clearly trying to get some shade from the burning sun, a sun that was turning Don’s skin red. Getting burnt was an irritable occurrence, and one the Knight-hopeful faced all too often.

As the men began to roll their tents and turn their backs to the trio, Don breathed a word. “Now.” He said, and the trio burst to life, charging down the hillside with measured pace. The two men turned to face them, startled by the sudden approach. The girl ran from the scene, as Groth and Anthor both slammed into the men, tackling them to the ground. Don stood behind them, watching as they wrestled with the captors. A frightened look overcame the young girl, and Don ran over to her, kneeling on one knee so he could look her in the eyes.

“We’re here to rescue you, and return you home. Do not be afraid, we will bring no harm upon you.”

by **Don** on June 14th, 2012, 1:11 pm

The two men behind him struggled as they tried to break free of the large men that lied atop them. Grunts and squirms could be heard from behind him, yet Don’s attention was entirely focused upon the young girl. She was scared, and at first did not appear like she trusted him. The Knight-hopeful raised a broad callused hand to her soft cheek, brushing it gently.

“You are safe now. What is your name? Your father has sent me to retrieve you. You should have never strayed so far from home.” He asked, his voice hushed and soft. He was only trying to comfort the frightened child.

“Chastity, my name is Chastity. I know I have done bad.. oh my, father won’t ever forgive me. I want to go home.” The girl replied, rubbing a tear that had rolled down her pale cheeks. A bruise formed a lump on her forehead, a lump that Don only noticed when she wiped her fringe out of her face. He raised an eyebrow, and turned back to the men, who were under the complete control of the brothers. Their size and weight had proven helpful at last.

“Chastity, what a beautiful name. Those men—“ He paused, pointing back at the subdued captors, “did they harm you?” The girl did not speak, and only nodded. Don raised himself to his feet, and ran a hand through the girls hair, messing it up. “I will be back in a moment, please, stay here. Look away if you must.” The girl nodded again, and sat down with her legs crossed. Don approached the men, standing between them both. They looked up at him, faces red, each with a bloodied lip or nose. The brothers held them against the ground with a knee in their tailbone, weight applied. Their hands had been pulled behind their back and bound with the string of the rucksacks. How clever.

“What were your intentions with this girl?” Don asked, glancing back and forth at the men. One had short, close-cropped brown hair, with a large brown beard. The other had long golden hair, with only stubble across his jaw and chin. He looked no more than twenty years.

Neither man spoke for almost a minute, before Groth applied more pressure to the younger looking man. He grunted, then spoke, his voice fast and his tone angry. “We were going to take her to a friend, he would of had use for the little mutt. Would of paid us handsomely too.” Groth slapped him in the back of the head with his free hand, the man spat in his direction in response.
“Using a small girl as a slave? That is no honourable thing to do. A seven year old child would have better moral compass than you two. “ He walked closer to the older man, and squatted down beside him. The point of his sheath dug into the soft grass beneath him as he lifted the man’s head by his chin, a gentle hand placed beneath it.

“You, you seem older than he is. You should know better. I would sooner take my own life than sell away a little girl that is not my own. You are both scum, and should be punished for what you have done.” He stood up, as the man clearly had nothing to say. Groth and Anthor both cracked a laugh as he did so, though neither knew of the frustration and anger that flowed through him like water in a river. Selling a girl? A young girl? It was treason, it was madness. What person in their right mind would do such a stupid and cowardly act.

“What do we do with them, sir?” Anthor asked, driving his knee harder into the man’s tailbone.

Donathon sighed, placing his hands on his hips. What would he do?

by **Don** on June 15th, 2012, 8:05 am

“What are you going to do huh? Kill us? What wrong have we done you? Unhand me and I would have your head in a second.” The younger man spat, his tone threatening and violent. Don shot him a look, then motioned for Groth to stand. He did so, and the younger man was quick to scramble to his feet, reaching for the sword he had dropped in the ambush. He pointed it towards Don, which caused him to draw his own blade. Steel resonated as it was pulled free of the sheathe, and the Knight-hopeful removed the shield from its string on his backpack. As he did so, he dropped the pack to the ground with a mute thud.

“You let me go? A foolish mistake!” The man shouted, and lunged forward at Groth. The man had been too slow to react, and the gleaming steel pierced the fat layer beneath his chin. Blood began to ooze out, a crimson waterfall soon forming on his stomach. Don grimaced as the blade was ripped free, and the large man fell to his knees, choking and coughing up his own blood. Anthor shouted, yet knew if he moved, the other would be free. Instead he kept his fists clenched, driving his knee deep into the man’s tailbone, causing him to squirm.

“You are next, swine..” The man stated, pointing his blade toward Don once again. Groth was not done for yet, though it would not be long before he was. A fountain of crimson had formed beneath his chin, and his once olive skin was now morphed into a pale white. Donathon could tell he was struggling to breathe, he could tell he was on the verge of death. Soon it’s dark embrace would cover him like a blanket, and he would be gone from this world.

Unless Don could save him first.

“Swine? I see no swine, only two men without conscious. You will pay for what you have done.” Don replied, and the man stepped several paces forward. The two were a standstill, one that was too risky to be having at such a time. Don shook his head in disdain. “They say, the cruellest of men often kill themselves.”

The other man raised a brow in confusion and leapt forward, his steel meeting the flat side of Don’s shield. He brisked by him and spun 180 degrees, before attempting another stab. The sword-tip bent on the shield once more, as Donathon raised it in defence. The man took several steps back, edging around him slowly.

“Come out from behind your shield, coward.” He laughed, and swung a wild arc of steel down towards Don’s neck. He raised his shield to block, and the blade collided against it, causing the man to stumble back. At that point, he was growing angry. His face had gone a bright red, and a rather noticeable vein had formed on the left side of his forehead. He was falling for Don’s trap, and the Knight-hopeful could only help but smile from behind his steel shield.

Anthor watched with excitement and fear as the man came in with another swing, and this time Don pushed forward, battering the sword with the shield. The man almost lost his footing, though regained it right before he fell backward. Don lunged forward with his shield tucked against him, slamming hard steel into the man’s chest. He gasped for air momentarily, and Don spun around him, prepared to take whatever was coming next.

by **Don** on June 15th, 2012, 8:45 am

Chastity watched from behind teary eyes as the bandit continuously swung at Donathon, his blade regularly missing or slamming against the steel wall that the knight-hopeful held so closely. The man was now driven by his rage, rage that had been sparked by his lack of contact with the mans skin. Donathon was skilled in using a shield, blocking was one of his strong points. It was what made him such a formidable opponent, whilst armed with a sword and a shield. He was untouchable to anyone less skilled than he, and could leave forty slashes upon them without even being touched.

“Damnit!” The man yelled in frustration, as Don slammed his shield against the incoming blade. The man stumbled back, a river of sweat rolling down his forehead and over his eyes. The sun was still high in the sky, still peering down upon the world with its heated stare. Don was not immune to sweat either, and could feel himself almost roasting in his leather armour. He knew that not striking the opponent was only wasting time, yet he had a point he needed to prove. It was rage that often killed a man more than the enemies sword.

Don paced backwards, gaining distance from the attacker. He still had shield at the ready; yet lowered it slightly so he could speak. Chastity was only a few feet behind him, still rested upon the grass. Her blue eyes were now orbs full of fear.

“You will soon be your own killer. Lay down your weapon, and I will not strike you. There is still time to redeem your sins, you know.” Don said, offering the man a chance to surrender. He cackled a laugh, as did his companion, who had been watching the duel from beneath Anthor. Don shook his head, before a fierce gaze met the man’s own face. Both were tired, yet a sudden wave of determination had overcame Don, as sudden as a storm could begin and finish. He knew this man was far beyond the point of sense; and the only way left to beat any into him was to defeat him.

“Very well.” Don sighed.

The youth made one final charge at Don, sword raised as he ran toward him. As he came in arms-length, the sword was thrust downward, only to be blocked and pushed back into the air. With the opening he had created, Donathon slammed a leather boot into the man’s chest, sending him to the ground. Don followed as he fell backward, pressing the tip of his longsword against the man’s throat. He gulped as the steel touched his skin, and was unable to act; as his sword was several feet out of reach. As quickly as it had begun, it was over. The man now lied on his back, with Don looming over him like a great shadow.

“Should I grant you a swift death? Or do you have last words? Choose your next wisely, for they could be your last.”

by **Don** on June 15th, 2012, 9:06 am

The man opened his mouth to speak, yet no words came out. Instead, he moved his head upward suddenly, and Don’s sword pierced his throat by the man’s own will. He stayed suspended by the blades end for several moments, before falling back to the ground dead, a trail of crimson running down the sides of his neck. The man had chosen the path of death; he had chose the way of the coward. Don grimaced as he began to gurgle blood from his mouth and nose, even after he was gone.

But that was no longer the matter at hand.

“Groth, stay still.” Don shouted, and ran over to kneel beside the man. Surprisingly, he was still alive and kicking, yet only just. A small pool of blood had formed beneath him, staining the grass crimson. Don reached for the rucksack beside him, and began to scavenge through its contents. Finally he came across a small bandage, one made of linen. He began to wrap it around the bleeding throat, and tied it in a knot at the back. It would not do much, but it would stop the bleeding; even if it was for only a short time. Even Groth knew he was too far gone, though Don was not about to give up so easily. He had issued the command to let the man free; so this man’s death would be on his conscious. He would not let such a brave man go without a struggle.

“Anthor, tie that man up. He is not going to be as cowardly as his friend. He still has some explaining to do.” Don commanded, and Anthor rose, grasping the man by the back of his head. Soon he was bound behind his back, and Anthor stood awaiting more orders. Don’s attention was diverted on Chastity, who was spewing from the death. Don approached her, placing a comforting hand atop her head.

“It will be alright, you’ll be home shortly. Come, we must return to Sylira, to your father.” He stood up, and Chastity did the same. She followed close by Don’s leg as he walked over to Anthor, who was holding the bound man over his shoulders. Groth was standing beside him, trying to keep pressure on the wound, and coughing up more blood in the meantime. Don gave either a nod, they knew it was time to go.

“We have to go now, and move as fast as possible. Groth, ensure your feet can carry you as far as they can. If we can even reach an encampment, there might be someone who can help.”

Groth nodded, and began to run toward the way they had came. Don gave Anthor a frightened look, before the two followed after him. Hopefully, just hopefully, they would be able to reach the city before Groth gave in. He was a strong, hardy man, and they all knew he would not die easy. He had goals, ambitions, and Don planned him to meet them in later life. He would not die here.

End.

by **Paragon** on June 18th, 2012, 10:57 pm

Adventurer's Loot

Donathan's Loot :

Awesome solo, you pack a lot of detail into your posts, hence why I could pick out so many skills to give you xp for. I also got a good sense of Don's character. Well done, and I'll try look at your other thread tomorrow - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, don't hesitate to PM me.