Avatarian [Backstory, Part I]

[Lucian/Deveriath]

It had been raining all night, and the well-traveled roads had turned to mud, slowing all travel to a near halt. The morning, if you could even call it that, was chilly due to the bloated clouds that blocked out the rising sun. Wagons were struggling through the muck that had once been the King's Highway.

" The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of selfish and the tyranny of evil men. "

An elderly man stood upon a crate beside the road, dressed in black robes. His wrinkled hands waving in the air to emphasize his each and every word. This, of course, was common place in Yew and yet several gathered around to listen. He had been one of the faceless that day, intrigued if only a little.

" Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother's keeper and the finder of lost children. "

The 'faceless' man, wore a faded gray cloak over an ankle-length surcoat of white. The hood, naturally, was pulled over his head to protect him from the gentle downpour. Despite the conditions, he was entranced by the words of this 'Shepherd.'

" Taxes.. "

The cleric's words seemed to have faded into a soft droning, behind the veil of rain as the hooded man's gaze shifted towards this new conversation. Could this have been the truth behind the day's traffic. Surely not..

" It's simple, peasant, pay y'taxes an' ye can pass.. "

The voice was gruff, thick with the trademark accent of Yew. The man behind the voice was no more that five-ten, but his face was covered in a thick beard, and his head by a chain coif.

" I.. I.. can'na pay.. "

The guard did not seem pleased, in fact it was quite obvious by the way he was shoving the elder man.

" We protect ye from brigands, all we ask is thirty gold! "

This time the farmer did not respond, merely trembled in fear. The guard moved to grab at the man's tunic, only to have his wrist intercepted by the firm grip of this cloaked individual. The guard, startled as he was, swung his blade towards the offending arm. A flash of light, the sound of thunder, and two men were drawn apart by the force.

" Who are you !? "

The guard demaned in a rough tone, his chipped blade pointed towards the hooded stranger. Likewise, the opposition had his blade drawn, yet it was lowered so that it was pointed towards the ground between the two. The other hand lifted to push the hood back, revealing his face to those before him.

" I am Ser Caleb ap Rhydderick, and you will show this man the proper respect for an elder. "

He was the typical 'Knight in Shining Armor' or as close to it as possible. Sandy blond hair was drawn back into a tail, revealing a pair of light blue eyes. The usual warmth had drained from his tanned features, and was replaced by determination.

" Y'think yer all fancy with your knighthood an' all? Tha' means shite t'me.."

The guard moved to strike at Caleb's sword, a typical mistake. A side-step and a flick of his wrist and the guard went charging through the mud with the Knight to his back. Everything had grown quite as those gathered had turned to watch the confrontation.

" And I will strike down with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. "

Another pass, this time Caleb's blade twisted so that the flat was brought down upon the Guard's backside. The footman yelped and twisted, fury written across his face. This battle had already been won. Yet, when he attempted to charge a third time, he did stumble and find himself upon his knees staring down the length of the Knight's blade, it's tip brushing the underside of his chin only slightly.

" And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee. "

The crowd began to shout, darting this way and that as a column of Guardsmen ran towards their fallen comrade. A warm smile soon pressed across the lips of the valiant swordsmen as he drew his blade away.

" Remember these words, Sir. "

The sound of steel sliding against leather could be heard as Caleb's blade was returned to it's sheathe. With a steady hand upon Thunder's bridle he spoke with confidence and conviction.

" Do not, nor slay not, anything that will harm the fair name of chivalry, for only by stainless and honorable lives and not by prowess and courage shall the final goal be reached. "

A singular nod was rewarded at the end of his speech, and with that he mounted his horse, and headed away from the converging forces. Leaving behind a world he had once known and loved, for a life unknown. Three brothers had taught him what it was to be a good and gentle man, and had furthermore raised him to a caste devoted to enforcing this code of conduct. Sadly enough, this Order of Knighthood was a dieing breed, as Caleb had come to find out in Yew.

Thunder rolled above, jarring the young watchman from his daze infront of the fire. Memories.. ones that had been long buried, and had no place in the here and now. He was no longer Caleb ap Rhyderrick.

[John Dell]

(OOC: I want more!  )