The story of the old knight
Posted: Fri Feb 21, 2014 5:23 pm
THE LIFE OF XAERON ROSAK
The sound of steel clashing against each other on the courtyard was sweet symphony to the ears of young Xaeron Rosak. As the son of Daeron Rosak, the famous blacksmith of the court of British, Xaeron was always destined to continue his father's footsteps at crafting masterwork armory and weaponry to the honorable troops of the royal army. And sometimes even to the king himself. Although Xaeron had seen his father forge raw iron into masterwork weaponry, hearing the smith's hammer echo against the iron as the chunk of metal was mold and shaped to a deadly piece of art, Xaeron still rather spent his days watching the brave men practicing with his father's swords and was more impressed of them than of his father's ability to forge them. Even with the risk of his father finding out and giving him a good bashing, Xaeron dreamed of becoming a champion of the people, a brave knight fighting against the evil, defending the weak and saving the damsels in the distress.
He knew the life of his dreams was a dangerous one. His father made certain of it with all the belt marks at his back whenever Xaeron was found out watching the men practice. He knew the path was filled with thugs, scums and backstabbing knives whereas the life of a blacksmith, hidden behind the tall walls of the royal castle was secure and good. But Xaeron did not care for save, like any young boy he was excited by the dangers. He always greeted the soldiers when they marched to war and was always first to welcome them back. Watching closely and counting them ride out of the gates he understood what his father meant. Many rode to battle, fewer ever returned.
A few years later, one fateful day his father Daeron was summoned for an important task. Being one of the court's best blacksmiths, he was called to travel to the white city of Trinsic to greet with the Head Priest of the honorable Order of Law, the upholders of justice and the protectors of the realm. The Order of Law had heard of his legendary craftsman skills and requested him to present his finest works. It was a great honor to meet such man and with four of king's knights to protect him on the King's Road to Trinsic, the father was as safe as one can hope for. Or that is what they claimed.
It took four days until the news were brought to Xaeron's ears. A white knight of Law approached the young boy and kneeled in front of him. Sharing a sad story, it was on the King's Road his father was ambushed. It was nothing more than common thugs and thieves, men with nothing to lose who jumped on them hoping for an easy and quick prey. When his father had not reached Trinsic, the Order of Law disbanded a group of brave knights to seek for them. Sadly there were no survivors. The four king's knights as well as seven thugs were found dead. Filled with both anger and sorrow, Xaeron tried to run out, to escape the castle and his life behind the tall walls, but the white knight grasped him. "Boy, there is a time and place for grief… and even hate, but you will not find any of it out there", the white knight whispered with a soft and comfortable voice.
It wasn't until his father's death that Xaeron finally got to hold a sword of his own. The white knight going by the name of Alexander D'Raw took the young Xaeron under his shelter. Each day Xaeron practiced with him, imagining the thugs attacking his father and stealing him from him, he wished to someday be there to show them true justice. Step left, step right, strike, block, step back, down, Xaeron continued his practice to master the art of swords.
Ten years passed and the young boy grew older and stronger. Once destined to be a blacksmith, Xaeron realized he had not as much as held the smith's hammer ever since his father's death. Instead he had spent his years with swords, much like he had always dreamed, and now he was kneeling in front of the king, Lord British. "Rise, sir Xaeron Rosak", the king said naming Xaeron a sir. He was finally a knight. Yet, his old dream was nothing like he had expected. He didn't find joy or clarification, he felt sad knowing this was not the path destined for him. He felt he had betrayed his father.
Alexander tapped his back. "Well done, boy", he laughed with joy inviting him to join him for a drink or a few. After several jokes and few pinches of ale, the white knight revealed he has located the men responsible for the death Xaeron's father. Not all of them were alive anymore, but he had found two brothers who had participated in that dreadful act. That was all it took and Xaeron found joy. He felt there was a way to honor his father. Vengeance will justify ignoring his father's wishes and his destiny of becoming a great smith.
On the morning dusk Xaeron and Alexander geared up. It was a task for the two knights, the old and the new. Heading toward Cove Alexander told Xaeron the brothers have been living there for the past five years, now completely harmless, but their past crimes cannot go unpunished. Sharpening his sword as they rode, Xaeron saw it in his mind how they kick in the door, how he will force the men to look at his eyes and cry as he delivers the justice they deserve.
When they finally did reach the small and worn house, the two brothers, men at age of fifty were working on the house, hammering to fix the roof and the walls. When the brothers saw the white knight they instantly seized their work and greeted both Alexander and Xaeron with wide smiles. Asking if they are hungry and offering them what little food they had, the brothers seemed to be completely harmless and nothing like Xaeron had hoped. Xaeron was angry. He wanted them to be sad and miserable, he wanted them to be afraid, but the brothers appears to be as any citizen providing both food and shelter to their brave white protector and his company.
Alexander held up his arm declining their offer of food and shelter. "We are here for justice", he said with a loud voice. Questioning them about their whereabouts ten years ago, asking about the King's Road and a party of blacksmith accompanied by four royal soldiers, the men dropped their hammers and sadness spread over their faces. It was obvious they knew of the crime. Staggering one brother cried for mercy. He explained they did not mean to harm anyone, they were only hungry, poor and with no roof above their head they were desperate. They asked for forgiveness, they told of the story how it was them and ten others. He explained how they only stopped to ask for some food or coins when the king's knights raised their swords against them. Claiming self-defense they were forced to fight. It was chaos and eight of them died before the knights fell. It was only then they saw the blacksmith dead as well. In panic the remaining four survivors took what they could carry and shattered away. After many years he and his brother found their way to Cove where they decided to settle down for peaceful life. They say they still pray for the dead.
Xaeron watched and listened. After the story he realized his anger was subdued. He no longer wished to see them suffer. These men were victims just like his father was. Alexander turned to Xaeron. Giving him the pleasure of justice, Alexander asked how Xaeron wants to proceed. "Leave them be… let the gods be their judge", the low words escaped Xaeron's lips. He wished he could feel anger, he wished he could take their lives, but he saw justice already delivered. The men were in pain and he knew they will carry the past with them for the rest of their lives.
Alexander turned around and rode next to Xaeron. Smiling and hymning he didn't say a word. "What?", Xaeron inquired. "You, boy, would make a fine knight of Law", Alexander chuckled, proud and taken by Xaeron's act of both mercy and justice. "Only if you stop calling me a boy", Xaeron threw back and kicked speed for his horse to race back to Britain.
RECENT HISTORY
Xaeron Rosak, once the noble knight of Law, fighting for Lord British, defending what is right and protecting the weak from the injustice was awakened to the harsh reality when he saw his honorable brothers in faith to succumb into corruption seeking nothing, but their own gain. The Order of Law was not as it appeared. They declared enemies and waged war against poor people driven out of their homes only trying to survive. Taking their wealth and possessions his brothers of faith grew rich and powerful. With disgust Xaeron looked for an escape.
Such opportunity presented itself when a new order of rebels rose from the Lost Lands of Papua. Behind Lord Blackthorne the Order of Imperial was founded to fight against the injustice that is Order of Law. Xaeron quickly abandoned his old brothers and joined arms with the new force, yet pure and untainted by greed of wealth.
To liberate the world from the tyranny Order of Law, proudly the Imperials marched to battle. War raged on for years between the two orders. Though the Imperials fought with bravery and with just cause, the Order of Law was too strong, too rich to overwhelm. Every soldier of Lord British fallen, two were forced to take his place. Imperials soon realized the war was a lost cause and Lord British would sacrifice all and everyone before being overwhelmed. Such price was too high for Imperial to accept and as such they seized their war and fell back to the Lost Lands of Papua, admitting defeat.
The Imperial forces shattered. Outlawed and exiled, Xaeron fell to desperation. Although the Order of Law forgave his and many of the Imperial's participation to the war, he was a changed man and could no longer find joy or a meaning to his life. Wondering around the world without goal, without destination, Xaeron was lost.
Years passed by and the old champion, the once noble knight of justice was seen travelling from one inn to another only to crawl out at the morning dusk. Years passed by and it wasn't until he had found his way to the tavern of Cove his life would once more find a meaning. At this point Xaeron has lost all he once held dear, justice was nothing but an echo escaping his grasp. In his misery the infamous family Do'Brim approached him. Telling him of Exorsus Nox, the sinister group of men forging their own destiny, Xaeron knew they were nothing but scum, low-lifes and robbers. Yet, in his desperation, with everything lost he swore to pledge his sword to their cause. Once more Xaeron armed up and marched to a different war. This time stealing from all they encountered and bathing in gold himself, he had surely come a long way from fighting for justice and protecting the weak.
Even though Xaeron had finally found a new meaning, it disgusted him. There was no doubt it felt good to hold a sword again and to fight for something, but Exorsus Nox was not what he had hoped to find. Praying for a way out, at his weakest moment another power approached him. Someone had heard his prayers. In form of Tekstone priest dressed in black, Dennac reached for him. Promising to restore his glory, justice and honor, Xaeron was recruited to the Cult of Tekstone.
Although there was more glory within the ranks of Cult, at least when compared to the Exorsus Nox, it was also known they were merciless and swift with justice, sparing no one who stands on their way. After spending a year with the cult, Xaeron woke up feeling clarification. He wanted his old life back. He wanted to fight for honor, defend the weak and be the best he can be, a champion of the people.
Once more fate interfered and the Order of Imperial was rising from the island of Moonglow. The Cult of Tekstone saw an opportunity and called up a meeting with the Imperials. In that meeting the once enemies shook hands and formed a pact of alliance, joining arms in a war against common enemies. It was then Xaeron's prayers were answered. He bid his fellow cultists goodbye and once more joined arms with the Imperial.
Xaeron had returned home. Now it was time to restore his honor.
The sound of steel clashing against each other on the courtyard was sweet symphony to the ears of young Xaeron Rosak. As the son of Daeron Rosak, the famous blacksmith of the court of British, Xaeron was always destined to continue his father's footsteps at crafting masterwork armory and weaponry to the honorable troops of the royal army. And sometimes even to the king himself. Although Xaeron had seen his father forge raw iron into masterwork weaponry, hearing the smith's hammer echo against the iron as the chunk of metal was mold and shaped to a deadly piece of art, Xaeron still rather spent his days watching the brave men practicing with his father's swords and was more impressed of them than of his father's ability to forge them. Even with the risk of his father finding out and giving him a good bashing, Xaeron dreamed of becoming a champion of the people, a brave knight fighting against the evil, defending the weak and saving the damsels in the distress.
He knew the life of his dreams was a dangerous one. His father made certain of it with all the belt marks at his back whenever Xaeron was found out watching the men practice. He knew the path was filled with thugs, scums and backstabbing knives whereas the life of a blacksmith, hidden behind the tall walls of the royal castle was secure and good. But Xaeron did not care for save, like any young boy he was excited by the dangers. He always greeted the soldiers when they marched to war and was always first to welcome them back. Watching closely and counting them ride out of the gates he understood what his father meant. Many rode to battle, fewer ever returned.
A few years later, one fateful day his father Daeron was summoned for an important task. Being one of the court's best blacksmiths, he was called to travel to the white city of Trinsic to greet with the Head Priest of the honorable Order of Law, the upholders of justice and the protectors of the realm. The Order of Law had heard of his legendary craftsman skills and requested him to present his finest works. It was a great honor to meet such man and with four of king's knights to protect him on the King's Road to Trinsic, the father was as safe as one can hope for. Or that is what they claimed.
It took four days until the news were brought to Xaeron's ears. A white knight of Law approached the young boy and kneeled in front of him. Sharing a sad story, it was on the King's Road his father was ambushed. It was nothing more than common thugs and thieves, men with nothing to lose who jumped on them hoping for an easy and quick prey. When his father had not reached Trinsic, the Order of Law disbanded a group of brave knights to seek for them. Sadly there were no survivors. The four king's knights as well as seven thugs were found dead. Filled with both anger and sorrow, Xaeron tried to run out, to escape the castle and his life behind the tall walls, but the white knight grasped him. "Boy, there is a time and place for grief… and even hate, but you will not find any of it out there", the white knight whispered with a soft and comfortable voice.
It wasn't until his father's death that Xaeron finally got to hold a sword of his own. The white knight going by the name of Alexander D'Raw took the young Xaeron under his shelter. Each day Xaeron practiced with him, imagining the thugs attacking his father and stealing him from him, he wished to someday be there to show them true justice. Step left, step right, strike, block, step back, down, Xaeron continued his practice to master the art of swords.
Ten years passed and the young boy grew older and stronger. Once destined to be a blacksmith, Xaeron realized he had not as much as held the smith's hammer ever since his father's death. Instead he had spent his years with swords, much like he had always dreamed, and now he was kneeling in front of the king, Lord British. "Rise, sir Xaeron Rosak", the king said naming Xaeron a sir. He was finally a knight. Yet, his old dream was nothing like he had expected. He didn't find joy or clarification, he felt sad knowing this was not the path destined for him. He felt he had betrayed his father.
Alexander tapped his back. "Well done, boy", he laughed with joy inviting him to join him for a drink or a few. After several jokes and few pinches of ale, the white knight revealed he has located the men responsible for the death Xaeron's father. Not all of them were alive anymore, but he had found two brothers who had participated in that dreadful act. That was all it took and Xaeron found joy. He felt there was a way to honor his father. Vengeance will justify ignoring his father's wishes and his destiny of becoming a great smith.
On the morning dusk Xaeron and Alexander geared up. It was a task for the two knights, the old and the new. Heading toward Cove Alexander told Xaeron the brothers have been living there for the past five years, now completely harmless, but their past crimes cannot go unpunished. Sharpening his sword as they rode, Xaeron saw it in his mind how they kick in the door, how he will force the men to look at his eyes and cry as he delivers the justice they deserve.
When they finally did reach the small and worn house, the two brothers, men at age of fifty were working on the house, hammering to fix the roof and the walls. When the brothers saw the white knight they instantly seized their work and greeted both Alexander and Xaeron with wide smiles. Asking if they are hungry and offering them what little food they had, the brothers seemed to be completely harmless and nothing like Xaeron had hoped. Xaeron was angry. He wanted them to be sad and miserable, he wanted them to be afraid, but the brothers appears to be as any citizen providing both food and shelter to their brave white protector and his company.
Alexander held up his arm declining their offer of food and shelter. "We are here for justice", he said with a loud voice. Questioning them about their whereabouts ten years ago, asking about the King's Road and a party of blacksmith accompanied by four royal soldiers, the men dropped their hammers and sadness spread over their faces. It was obvious they knew of the crime. Staggering one brother cried for mercy. He explained they did not mean to harm anyone, they were only hungry, poor and with no roof above their head they were desperate. They asked for forgiveness, they told of the story how it was them and ten others. He explained how they only stopped to ask for some food or coins when the king's knights raised their swords against them. Claiming self-defense they were forced to fight. It was chaos and eight of them died before the knights fell. It was only then they saw the blacksmith dead as well. In panic the remaining four survivors took what they could carry and shattered away. After many years he and his brother found their way to Cove where they decided to settle down for peaceful life. They say they still pray for the dead.
Xaeron watched and listened. After the story he realized his anger was subdued. He no longer wished to see them suffer. These men were victims just like his father was. Alexander turned to Xaeron. Giving him the pleasure of justice, Alexander asked how Xaeron wants to proceed. "Leave them be… let the gods be their judge", the low words escaped Xaeron's lips. He wished he could feel anger, he wished he could take their lives, but he saw justice already delivered. The men were in pain and he knew they will carry the past with them for the rest of their lives.
Alexander turned around and rode next to Xaeron. Smiling and hymning he didn't say a word. "What?", Xaeron inquired. "You, boy, would make a fine knight of Law", Alexander chuckled, proud and taken by Xaeron's act of both mercy and justice. "Only if you stop calling me a boy", Xaeron threw back and kicked speed for his horse to race back to Britain.
RECENT HISTORY
Xaeron Rosak, once the noble knight of Law, fighting for Lord British, defending what is right and protecting the weak from the injustice was awakened to the harsh reality when he saw his honorable brothers in faith to succumb into corruption seeking nothing, but their own gain. The Order of Law was not as it appeared. They declared enemies and waged war against poor people driven out of their homes only trying to survive. Taking their wealth and possessions his brothers of faith grew rich and powerful. With disgust Xaeron looked for an escape.
Such opportunity presented itself when a new order of rebels rose from the Lost Lands of Papua. Behind Lord Blackthorne the Order of Imperial was founded to fight against the injustice that is Order of Law. Xaeron quickly abandoned his old brothers and joined arms with the new force, yet pure and untainted by greed of wealth.
To liberate the world from the tyranny Order of Law, proudly the Imperials marched to battle. War raged on for years between the two orders. Though the Imperials fought with bravery and with just cause, the Order of Law was too strong, too rich to overwhelm. Every soldier of Lord British fallen, two were forced to take his place. Imperials soon realized the war was a lost cause and Lord British would sacrifice all and everyone before being overwhelmed. Such price was too high for Imperial to accept and as such they seized their war and fell back to the Lost Lands of Papua, admitting defeat.
The Imperial forces shattered. Outlawed and exiled, Xaeron fell to desperation. Although the Order of Law forgave his and many of the Imperial's participation to the war, he was a changed man and could no longer find joy or a meaning to his life. Wondering around the world without goal, without destination, Xaeron was lost.
Years passed by and the old champion, the once noble knight of justice was seen travelling from one inn to another only to crawl out at the morning dusk. Years passed by and it wasn't until he had found his way to the tavern of Cove his life would once more find a meaning. At this point Xaeron has lost all he once held dear, justice was nothing but an echo escaping his grasp. In his misery the infamous family Do'Brim approached him. Telling him of Exorsus Nox, the sinister group of men forging their own destiny, Xaeron knew they were nothing but scum, low-lifes and robbers. Yet, in his desperation, with everything lost he swore to pledge his sword to their cause. Once more Xaeron armed up and marched to a different war. This time stealing from all they encountered and bathing in gold himself, he had surely come a long way from fighting for justice and protecting the weak.
Even though Xaeron had finally found a new meaning, it disgusted him. There was no doubt it felt good to hold a sword again and to fight for something, but Exorsus Nox was not what he had hoped to find. Praying for a way out, at his weakest moment another power approached him. Someone had heard his prayers. In form of Tekstone priest dressed in black, Dennac reached for him. Promising to restore his glory, justice and honor, Xaeron was recruited to the Cult of Tekstone.
Although there was more glory within the ranks of Cult, at least when compared to the Exorsus Nox, it was also known they were merciless and swift with justice, sparing no one who stands on their way. After spending a year with the cult, Xaeron woke up feeling clarification. He wanted his old life back. He wanted to fight for honor, defend the weak and be the best he can be, a champion of the people.
Once more fate interfered and the Order of Imperial was rising from the island of Moonglow. The Cult of Tekstone saw an opportunity and called up a meeting with the Imperials. In that meeting the once enemies shook hands and formed a pact of alliance, joining arms in a war against common enemies. It was then Xaeron's prayers were answered. He bid his fellow cultists goodbye and once more joined arms with the Imperial.
Xaeron had returned home. Now it was time to restore his honor.