The Death Knight's Squire (Finished!)

[GinkyGotBack]

Arrival in Orlbar

​

It is the year 1349 DR, in the month of Deepwinter. You have been on the road for nearly two months now, and snow hangs thick on the trees as you make your way towards the town of Orlbar, at the foot of the Greypeak Mountains. The Greypeaks are known throughout Faerun for their silver and iron mines, but it is a different type of metal that brought you here: gold. While you were in Neverwinter you overheard rumors of a large horde of treasure within an abandoned goblin keep. Even tavern rumors prove to be fruitful sometimes, and having been without a purpose for some months, you departed immediately for the Grey Vale. When you reach Orlbar, the air is brisk and the town is busy. Carts carry all manner of goods: timber, wool bales, grain, and animals from the surrounding country. Some of these goods would be bound for Waterdeep or Neverwinter, others for the nearby city of Loudwater.

Hungry and thirsty after many days on the road, you enter the first tavern you see, The Woodsman’s Retreat, and satisfy your cravings. Bread, cheese and a hot mulled wine do the trick nicely. You then enquire from the barkeep about accommodation. Your bones ache and rest is essential. The mountains can wait one or two days while you rest and replenish your supplies in town. The barkeep tells you that a very respectable inn, the Silver Flask, is just nearby. Toting your backpack, you walk down the street to the Silver Flask and pay for a room. The innkeep is a jolly woman who is glad to have your business, and she lights a cozy fire in your room. You bathe, then lie down to rest and soon fall into a deep sleep; it’s been a while since your travel-hardened self has had clean sheets and a roof overhead!

You are woken later that night by noise from the next room. You can hear a woman openly sobbing on the other side of the wall. The sound is gut-wrenching. Every now and then a male voice says something, as if trying to comfort her. You tolerate this for a while, but eventually it becomes evident that sleep is going to be impossible, and you walk out into the hallway and knock on the door to the room next to yours.

An elderly man answers. He is dressed finely, like a member of the aristocracy, but sports a nasty black eye and a gash across his cheek. In the background a woman, also richly dressed, sits on a chair by the fire, her face buried in her hands. “Yes? What is it?” the elderly gentleman asks directly.

dae mec

 

[dae mec]

"Sorry to bother you," says Sylrila. With how direct he is, Sylrila decides to respond with equal honesty. "I heard someone crying. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Her forehead crinkles when she notices the injuries on the gentleman's face, and her concern is almost enough to ward off the flutters of anxiety at being so direct. Sylrila's dressed in simple night clothes, and as silly as it is, she wishes she was wearing her armor instead. At least then she'd be able to project the paladin aura better—or look like someone who could help. Still, she does her best.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

At this, the woman looks up to see you. You probably look a fright, after all those weeks on the road, and having just gotten out of bed - hair disheveled, wearing your simple night clothes - but you've had a bath so at least you don't smell bad. However, your type has an... air about them. You've seen a fight or two and know how to handle yourself in most situations. You’re what’s known in these parts as ‘the adventuring type.’ Such types generally know how to get things done, things that others might shy away from. “Show our guest in, Elric,” the woman says weakly, drying her tears with a silk handkerchief.

You are shown to a chair. For some reason, this old couple, who introduce themselves as Lord and Lady Brewmont, welcome your presence, if only as a distraction from the grief they seem consumed by. “We arrived here last night,” Lady Brewmont begins. “Elric is so busy these days, so we thought we would bring ourselves out to Orlbar for a little holiday. Our son, he’s so fond of the mountains. Loves all the stories. Well, he’s our grandson really. The son of our daughter who died some years ago. He is all we have left of her. We call him our son.“ Lady Brewmont begins sobbing once more.

Elric Brewmont picks up the thread. “Long story short, my friend, we were accosted on the highway. We were passing along a lonely stretch of road when he appeared, from nowhere. A knight, a towering brute of a man, all clad in armor.” Lord Elric points to his face. “Did this to me, knocked me out cold. Then he grabbed our boy, threw him on a horse and bolted! Without a word!”

 

[dae mec]

Sylrila listens to the story intently. What an awful person, kidnapping a child! And this poor couple having suffered so much already... She already felt burning indignation at the injustice in her chest. She sat a little straighter and clasped her hands together. If she didn't try to help them, she didn't deserve to be a paladin.

"That's awful," Sylrila murmured in sympathy. "Can you tell me a little more about this strange 'knight'?" Anyone who acted like wasn't worthy of that title. "Which direction did he go?"

 

[GinkyGotBack]

Elric shakes his head. "...This knight was something else. We didn't see his face, it was hidden by a great metal visor. A towering warrior he was, a hulk of a man." Lady Brewmont speaks up again. "And he has kidnapped our poor little Darek! Abducted him, just ripped him out of our grasp!" Lord Brewmont places a tender hand on his lady wife's shoulder to comfort her. "We didn't see where he ran off to, but they say the Knight lives in the wood nearby," Lady Brewmont says airily, as if in a waking dream. "Weathercote Wood, isn't it dear?" The old man gives a simple nod. "After Darek was taken, we came straight to Orlbar," Lady Brewmont says. "We went to the Captain of the Guard, but he, he..."

"A thoroughly incompetent fool," Lord Brewmont growls. "Said this Knight was a ghost, that he'd chosen Darek as his squire, and that there was nothing we could do about it! Said Darek wasn't the first. Called him The Death Knight! You can imagine what a comfort that was to us." The old man grits his teeth, staring into the fire, and punches his palm. "Ghost my arse!" he snarls through gritted teeth. "That knight looked real enough to me. He's a lunatic, nothing more, a lunatic who kidnaps young boys! And when I find the blaggard, by the Gods will he pay!"

 

[dae mec]

Sylrila muses that over. The Death Knight, was it? A ghost who apparently punched elderly gentlemen in the face... and kidnapped children frequently enough that the guards new about it.

"How strange that the captain was so unhelpful," she says, frowning. She'll have to talk to him—Sylrila already has her heart set on helping them. Best make that clear. "If I may, I'd like to offer my services with helping recover your child. I am a sworn paladin of Tyr, and I'm honor bound to help."

She looks at both the lord and lady, trying to convey her conviction. "I will do everything I can to save Darek and punish this wrongdoer." Sylrila winces internally. It's not her best speech, but she's gotten what she's needed to across. Hopefully.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

The woman looks up, and new hope begins to shine from her eyes. "Oh Gods," she says, her voice quivering. "We'll give you anything, anything..." The old man is a little more practical. "If I was a few decades younger, I'd be out there myself. I saw action in the Battle of Tanglefork, when we freed the Vale from Rensha rule." He continues on to say, "I can't put my sword forward anymore, but I can offer you gold, my friend... 2000 pieces of it, to be exact..."

 

[dae mec]

She doesn't widen her eyes at the gold, but it is a near thing. "Of course I'll help," she agrees. Sylrila hesitates for a moment and adds, "I won't do it for the money, but I don't deny that it would be welcome." She doesn't plan on returning to the Church until she's certain of her oath, and she has the Chruch's blessing to go out and do good, but... they're not going to fund her travels eternally. Not until she makes a decision. "Is there anything else you would want me to know before I search for Darek? Anything about your child specifically that I should know? Perhaps something I could tell or give him to prove that you sent me?"

 

[GinkyGotBack]

Lord Brewmont looks to Lady Brewmont expectantly, who speaks up. "Just tell him that his grandparents love him and that they miss him very much." The old woman begins to get teary-eyed and looks like she wants to say more, but Lord Brewmont starts rubbing her back lightly. "Please, bring our son back to us, Paladin."

 

[dae mec]

"I'll tell him that," she says. Sylrila stands, clasping a fist against her heart. "I swear on the name of Tyr that I will do everything in my power to bring him back to you."

These kinds of oaths are weighty, and she can feel a twinge as the words leave her mouth. Maybe it's unwise to do so, but it felt right. And that's all she can hope for.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

"Thank you, Paladin." says Lord Brewmont, his face lighting up a little. "I suppose you'll be off in the morning then to start your search?"

 

[dae mec]

"Yes." Sylrila can recognize a dismissal when she sees one. "I'll take my leave, unless you have anything else you believe I should know. My room is just next door," she adds as she walks to the door. "I wish you both a peaceful night."

 

[GinkyGotBack]

"Have a good night, Paladin of Tyr, and be safe."

At dawn the next day, following the few scraps of information you have, you saddle your horse and ride it down to the town's barracks where inside you find the Captain of the Guard. A tall, heavy-weight man in a suit of full plate armor with a paludamentum fastened to his right shoulder. Though his skin was fairly pale, his jaw and mouth darkened with stubble. He looks you up and down as you enter then turns to dismiss his troops' training. "What is it I can help you with, fair knight?"

 

[dae mec]

"Well met, Captain." She gives her best smile, much more at ease with her armor on. "I'm Sylrila of Grensville, a Paladin of Tyr. I'd be grateful if you could answer a few questions of mine. I'm about to head into Weathercote Wood, and I've heard a some rumors about a... Death Knight," Sylrila says carefully. "Is it true that he kidnaps children?"

 

[GinkyGotBack]

His expression becomes much grimmer at the mention of the Death Knight, no longer the face of a hardened warrior. "I reckon you talked to those two old folks then, the Brewmonts was it?" The Captain finds himself a seat at a small round table, reaching down to his waist and pulling out a small silver flask from which he begins to drink. "Yes, it's true. Every few years or so, a boy will go missing from town. No doubt it's that Knight's dreadful work..." He takes a particularly long swig with lines of alcohol beginning to roll down from his mouth to his jaw. Wiping his face with his gloved hand, he looks back to you. "He's looking for a squire, the locals say. If it's true that the Death Knight took their boy, then I'm afraid there's no saving him."

 

[dae mec]

"I did talk to them, yes." She frowns, making sure that her expression is concerned and sympathetic rather than disapproving. "How long has it been going on? Do you have any idea why he keeps taking them? Does anyone know what happens to them after they're taken?"

Sylrila is internally disapproving, of course. She can understand the need for a drink, but doing so early and on duty is... questionable. She wonders if he genuinely believes that this Death Knight is an unconquerable ghost, or if it's just an excuse to avoid doing something about it.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

"Longer than I've been around, that much is for sure. I don't know why the Death Knight takes them, except for the whole squire thing. I'm not sure what a ghostly knight would need with a young boy, except maybe it's got some kind of grudge." The Captain gets a sullen look on his face as he stares at the flask in his hand. "We don't know what happens to the boys he takes. Only that they're never seen again."

 

[dae mec]

"Longer than you've been alive, or..." she trails off meaningfully before adding, "Do you have any advice or information that could help me find the Death Knight? Any pattern to the abductions, where he's spotted, or a description of how he looks?"

Sylrila's getting the feeling that the captain actually won't be much help. But she had to try one last time.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

"Aye, he's been terrorizing this place since before I was born. He's a big man. A big, big man clad in the heaviest suit of armor I've ever seen. He's got a great big visor on his helm covering his face. He doesn't have much of a routine. He shows up whether the kid is alone or in a group and just takes him, attacking anyone that tries to fight back. Sometimes he'll show up on the outskirts of town, other times he'll ride right on in on that horse of his and scoop a boy up like dirt."

The Captain goes for another drink only to find it empty. Sighing, he looks to you one last time. "I don't know much about him, but maybe some of the elderly folk around here might. It's hard to say whether they'll tell you anything, or if it'll be more than just rumors. But it's your best bet I'd say."

The Captain stands and holds out his arm to shake your hand. "I can't imagine I can talk you into stopping what you're trying to do, but I wish you the best of luck anyway."

 

[dae mec]

Sylrila shakes his hand. "Thank you for your help, Captain," she says, mostly sincere.

She leaves the captain be, but as she walks to her horse, she considers whether it's worth pursuing more rumors. It's a question of time versus benefit: she doesn't want to waste too much daylight—or have Darek be in danger because of her delay. And Sylrila realizes that if the Death Knight is that much older than the Captain, then the elderly residents might not have information about him either.

Sylrila considers for a moment longer. Then, she saddles her horse and prepares to head into the forest.

 

[GinkyGotBack]

The townsfolk pay you little mind as you go, casting you the occasional glance. As you hop up onto your horse, you see the Captain has followed you outside. Running up to you, he yells out "Wait!" Stopping beside your horse, he gives it a gentle stroke with his hand. "There is... one thing I neglected to tell you. I'd hoped that if you didn't have any clues as to where he might be, that you might give up on your search." The Captain grits his teeth and avoids your gaze, likely out of shame for his actions. "The Death Knight has always been seen in a small patch of wood that juts out from the Western side of Weathercote, like a wart on a giant's nose." He gives your horse a pat and looks up to you, nodding with conviction. "Once again, good luck on your search, Sylrila of Grensville. For your sake, I hope you come back in one piece."

 

[dae mec]

Irritation is her immediate emotional reaction. Not only does the captain to slack at his duties, but he also planned on making her life more difficult? If fate doesn't punish him, she's tempted to. As he scratches Daisy's nose, however, Sylrila takes quiet, deep breath through her nose. He has come to tell her, though. If he kept quiet, she'd be none the wiser. It will be cruel and counterproductive to berate him for listening to his consciousness.

"I'll head there first," she says simply. "Thank you for telling me. And I hope so as well."

 

[GinkyGotBack]

The journey to Weathercote Wood lies due east, but is no short ride. By midday you reach a sign which tells you you have another 15 miles to go. You should make it there by nightfall.

Not far past the sign is a small inn and tavern. An old man sits on a chair in the afternoon sun, and raises a tankard of ale as you pass. "Last drink for many miles!" the old man calls to you. "Come, sit! I'll buy you an ale!"

 

[dae mec]

Sylrila's made decent time, by her estimate. She should be able to spare a little for a drink—or at least some food, especially if there's a chance at learning more about the Death Knight. She is feeling a bit peckish.

"Hello," she says, stopping her horse. "A free drink, you say? That sounds wonderful." Sylrila dismounts and steps forward. "Just how many miles is the next drink, do you guess? I'm heading to Weathercote Wood myself."

 

[GinkyGotBack]

"Well, you won't find another town going the way you're going until you hit the Greypeak Mountains. That's more than 40 miles past Llorkh." From his chair, the old man reaches for the door and gives it a few hard knocks, signaling a barmaid to pop her head out and take his order. Offering you up a chair, the woman returns with two tankards of ale for each of you before ducking back inside. He smiles toothily at you. "So just what is it you're going to Weathercote Wood for?"