Riding Nuck through the open fields of the forsaken region as the wind brushed through his hair and the black stallion’s mane, the black knight known as Griswold made his way over to the town of Hage. Wanting to see the place and how well it had been cleaned up after the spirit festival had come and passed, he knew that there were always volunteers when it came to setting things up for a big party. However, finding the people that were willing to actually break it back down and clean things back up were often a lot harder to come by. Because if he were to be honest with himself, he too would rather aid in building over having to clean up someone else’s crap. Still, seeing as he had a meeting planned in the local tavern, he figured he might as well have a look to see how everything had ended up and whether or not they needed help with the clean-up.

Making the stallion slow its stride as they reached the outskirts of Hage, the horse merely walked through the street with Griswold on its back. Greeted by a fair amount of people who recognized him for his deeds around town, as well as someone people he had come to know by name at this point, it seemed like the town of Hage would always act as somewhat of a second home to him. Or rather, a third home if he were to be precise, as his second home was technically at the very same patch of farmland he had been avoiding for the past few years. The Cromwell farm was the place that had taken him in when his own home had been destroyed, warped away or however it had been called. But ever since he had become a magic knight that was constantly forced into having to kill things, all he had ever sent there was much of the money he earned a knight as he was ashamed to actually set foot in that place as the thing he had become.

But that much was something to ponder on at some other point in time.

Right now, he was going to meet a friend he had made no more than two months ago, when he encountered a band of elves and dwarves that held a nobleman tied up on a cart. As it turned out, the man had stolen their payment for certain wares they needed for their people, only for him to use it to blackmail them and hold the items stashed away and make them pay the same sum twice over to get it. It was why they had taken things into their own hands and had decided to take the man hostage until he decided to give them what they were owed, or give them their money back. Had Griswold not intervened at the time, there was no telling how that situation might have turned out, though there was no doubt about the fact that his arrival had kept blood from flowing on either side. With that man taken to prison and the money refunded, it was one issue handled.

That said, people are still out looking for the men and women that had taken their boss hostage, still being out for blood even after the man paying their checks had been incarcerated. It made it difficult for the “culprits” to move around, which was why they had gone back to their homes in a settlement deep inside of the Fringe, practically inside of the Heart country. There, the people from Clover held no sway, meaning they could not get to them there, nor did they know to even look for them as the place was hidden quite well. But all of that might change at some point, depending on how this meeting would go and the meetings that came after. Because the man he was going to be meeting was a dwarf by the name of Dragir, Dragir Farnay. A man that had spent his entire life learning how to fight and protect his own kind as they travelled from place to place, and a man that had his own ideas for how their kind might survive in the future.

Turning his horse into the stable and telling the stable boy to brush the horse and give it some food and water if he wanted to earn some Yul, he tossed the kid a coin to prove that he was being serious and wasn’t just trying to make him work for free. Heading deeper into Hage, he approached the tavern, believing he had arrived first. However, it appeared that Dragir was already inside, and had gotten into a bit of a skirmish along the way. Telling the barkeep to send two pints of mead to their table, Griswold met with the man and shook his hand before looking at the wound on his shoulder. Asking where it was that he had gotten injured, he claimed that it had not been too far from Hage, that the people who had been looking for them had apparently managed to track him down. Though it was more than likely a stroke of luck, he had not been able to take any chances as they were clearly out to kill the dwarf instead of capturing him.

Claiming he had managed to behead the one that stabbed him with his trusty axe and that that had made the remainder of them flee, Dragir knew that they would be back for him eventually. As all of this had more or less gotten in the way of their first meeting, and it was kind of hard to discuss things properly with a wounded man, Griswold paid for the largest upstairs room so the two of them could have some privacy while discussing matters over their mead. Once there, the first thing he did was to use his healing magic and close up the man’s wound. Making this the second time Griswold had aided them, they both knew that they would eventually need to go after the people that were looking for them, for now, there were others things they had to get to. So as they both sat down in a chair and had their first sip of mead, it was time to get to business.

“It’s good to see you again, young wolf. Thanks to you, I’ve managed to lead my people back home, and it turns out we weren’t the first to have made it there. Several groups from across the continent have managed to make their way over, and I believe we might have news regardin’ your family.”

For various reasons, hearing these things got the black knight of the bulls rather giddy, and for good reason. Ever since the enclave fell, he had never seen any of his relatives ever again, assuming they had all died. So if Dragir had any news about them, that meant there was some measure of hope to be had. That, and the knowledge that more people such as himself were gathering up in a safe place made him want to venture out and meet them. But for now, that would have to wait. Because there were a good amount of people after him and Dragir, as well as looking for the rest of Dragir’s crew, heading over there now would just bring trouble along with him. That, and there was still so much that needed to be done in the countryside before he could even consider taking a break.

“Ah, that’s some of the best news I’ve had in months now, when you do venture back, give them my regards. But if you don’t mind my pestering, what news did you manage to uncover?”

“Right, well you see lad, me and the boys have been doing some diggin’, questionin’ new arrivals, and while most of them did not much to say regardin’ the matter, there were some that did. Now, you might be aware that your “enclave” was rather to themselves, cutting ties with the outside world, as well as the rest of their kind scattered across the world. While none seemed to know the reason for it, there was one kind lady that seemed to know what the reason for that might have been.”

Again, the old dwarf decided to end his dialogue on the note of a cliffhanger, leaving Griswold guessing as to what all of this meant. From the sound of things, no one had been able to find any of his people, which meant that they were most surely dead. And while that was a bitter pill to swallow, it was something he had lived with every day since his seventeenth year. As such, it did not sting him nearly as much to hear it after more than five years had passed.

“Ah, my apologies laddy, these old bones ain’t what they used to be, and I’m still a wee bit tuckered out from all the fightin’. But you see, one of them handed me this old thing, claiming it belonged to a very specific branch of people within the Shadesinger group. They claim some are descendants of the Khaz’Unrol dynasty and the “Elle Seidhe” bloodline. While it might not mean much in the modern era, those people were kings and queens, and there’s more.”

But before the old dwarf could bring up what that might be, a stone got tossed through the window, containing a hastily scribbled note that contained the words “We know, meet us at the northern woods”. Knowing instantly who this had come from, it seemed the men and women who were after Dragir had managed to trail him all the way back to Hage and to this particular room, meaning not all of them had scurried away like frightened rats. Exchanging a look as if trying to figure out how to deal with this issue, Griswold himself did not want to add to the amount of bodies that had already started piling up over something as dull as this. Just because a conman had been put behind bars, what seemed like a legion of individuals was now after both him and the dwarf. And what made things worse was the fact that they might not stop there, putting the others at risk too.

And judging by what he had seen from humanity thus far, it was not all that odd to believe that they might hurt or even kill others just to get to them, and that was where Griswold would always draw the line. No one would ever become a pawn in some game just so his enemies might be able to get to him, and now would be no different. If he might be able to take care of the enemies they faced now, there was a chance they might eventually tire of the fighting and losing and give up. That said, if he might be able to dissuade them from continuing this fight without having to kill anyone, that would be the most desirable outcome by far. So with that thought in mind, Griswold rose from his seat, followed by Dragir who did not hesitate for a second. But that was exactly what the black knight had come to expect from someone who had spent the better part of forty years fighting.

Leaving Hage behind, the two men marched towards the northern forest, Dragir holding his trusty axe in hand as Griswold pondered on what all of the things he had just been told really meant. If there were truly those among them that had some kind of royal blood flowing through them, it seemed natural for him to have figured that out once he became of a certain age. Surely by the time it had all been erased, he would have sensed something, though none of that was ever the case. For as far as he had been aware, everyone within the enclave behaved the same, treating everybody equally with no one truly being in charge. While they did have people in charge of some things, such as tending to the land and deciding how to best go about handling their crops and having someone in charge of the hunters due to their experience, the one thing Griswold was certain of was that they had no such thing as a king, queen, duke, lord or anything along those lines.

“Before we go any further, I wanted you to have this. That lady I talked to you about earlier, she claimed this was all that remained of the Elle Seidhe, and I believe you should have it. The handle has a nice feel to it, though the shape of the blade… it doesn’t work for me. Besides, if there is a chance your people were of the Elle Seidhe bloodline, that would make you royalty my boy.”

Breaking out of the mindset he had been in when a scabbard and blade got shoved up against his chest, he just looked it over to see what the big deal was. Hoping to his very core that the man was wrong about him potentially have royal blood in his veins, mostly due to how much he hated what royalty and nobility seemed to stand for among humans, he just kindly nodded at the old dwarf as he placed one hand on the scabbard and the other on the handle. Unsheathing the blade for only a centimeter, he felt a strange rush passing through him, surrounding him and making him feel stronger, not to mention lighter on his feet. Putting the blade back into the scabbard and leaving it there,

Arriving at the forest, they were greeted by roughly ten men, wearing red rags around their nose and mouth in an attempt at hiding part of their identity. Figuring this could only mean they did not want to be recognized for whatever reason, this in turn likely meant that they were not here for a conversation. Noticing hand axes, billy clubs, daggers and even a sword, they were all decently well armed and ready to pick a fight.

“We’re here, as requested. But if it is at all possible, I would very much like it if we could all walk away from this unscathed and forget this ever happened. Your boss is in prison, and likely will be for several more years to come. So if this is about loyalty, you can walk away now and he’ll never need to know. If this is about money, I can pay you what you believe you’re owed. But know that I will only ask this of you once, so please think it over before making any rash decisions.”

But as the first darted towards him with a drawn knife, Griswold lowered his body, pulling his new sword from it’s sheathe and clumsily cutting the man’s hand off right at the wrist. Sending arm and knife alike flying through the air, the man gripped his stump and fell to his knees as he cried out in horror. And that was when it started, another brawl that could not be avoided merely by asking nicely, causing blood to already flow down the surrounding blades of grass to be soaked up by the soil. Reminding him of the time in the underwater dungeon where he had almost begged the crab people to reconsider fighting them, only for him to still have to dispatch them all in self defense, everything that happened after that just occurred in mere moments.

As if walking on air, the black swordsman was carried through the remaining brigands, using this new blade to sever the handle of an axe, sending the head flying before shattering the man’s nose with the buttcap of the sword. Falling flat on his eyes as he gripped his nose with both hands, his assailant had already moved towards the next target, severing tendons with the incredibly sharp and agile blade that was nothing like any of the other weapons he had wielded up until this point in time. Though there was a bit of a learning curve when it came to a blade that could only cut from one side as it was blunt on the other, the side that was actually sharp cut extremely well. Having to adjust what he knew about blades and wielding them for the sake of not accidentally striking someone with the blunt end, that actually gave him a bit of an idea.

Watching from a distance with his axe still in hand, Dragir was patiently waiting and watching, trying to find out a way for him to get involved that didn’t mean getting in Griswold’s way. But judging by his movement, that would be quite difficult. As such, he stayed out of the way up until the moment he was needed, looking on as Griswold slapped someone in the neck so hard with the blunt side of his blade that he passed out with a loud gasp. Having already taken several of them out without actually killing or injuring someone, at least not counting the man missing a hand, it was something he managed to keep up right until someone aimed to drive a sword through his back. Bothered by the ungrateful attitude and cowardice, especially after he had spared the lives of all of these men, Griswold pivoted on his feet, bringing his blade up from a downward position to alter the trajectory of the incoming strike.

Giving him one angry glance, he brought the blade back with such ferocity that it ripped the man’s head right off of his shoulders. As it fell to the ground, it did not take long for the body to topple and dip too, giving Griswold a moment to look around. Doing his best to address everyone around that still had their heads on their shoulders and ears with which they could listen, he believed this fight had dragged on for long enough. That, and these men should by now have realized that they stood no chance at winning, not now and not ever. All they got to show for their actions here would be injuries and death, as a shot at victory had never been present for even a tenth of a second.

“To those of you that are left, today is your lucky day. You may take those that are still alive and return to your homes without fear of persecution. However, if you come after either of us again, know that I will kill you and everyone you hold dear. Now choose.”

As the men took their losses and collected those that could still be saved, as well as the man’s severed hand before taking their leave, Griswold truly hoped he would never have to see any of them again in this lifetime. And while there was a good chance that that would actually be the case, as humans cared for very little other than their own continued survival, there were those that were stupid enough to keep coming back because they believed they stood an inkling of a chance and wanted whatever bounty the conman had put on their heads. But as the area became rapidly more devoid of life, the knight attached the scabbard to the harness on his back, as well as unbuckling another. Though it had been something that had taken some consideration due to what the weapon meant to him, he believed it might serve his new ally better.

“Here, you should have this. It seems only fair to hand you something after you’ve brought me this marvel of a gift. Besides, a man can only carry so many weapons at the same time, and it seems like the right kind of fit for you. It’s called Disglair.”

Tossing it at the dwarf, who picked it up out of the air as if it were nothing, he temporarily unsheathed the blade to get a better look as to what he was working with here. Cutting around wildly for a few moments with one hand to get a feel as to the weight of the blade and the grip of the handle, he huffed a bit as he put the weapon back. Looking at Griswold and nodding in approval, the two returned towards the town of Hage so they could continue their meeting and discuss all of the issues that had already been brought to the surface before they had been so rudely interrupted. But hopefully, it would all have been worth the extra effort when it came to establishing a place where his people could thrive without the long arm of any kings and queens.