Kingsley Farebrother

He who fears not the blade he wields has no right to wield that blade.

The Forsaken Region of Clover was experiencing a heavy rain when Kingsley arrived. He had hitched a ride with some senior Purple Orcas, making himself comfortable in the magically created carriage that dragged along the muddy countryside. While his compatriots had no present duties in the area, they graciously allowed Kingsley to tag along so he could complete his latest assignment. The historians of Clover's Capital needed an escort for their return from this backwater region of the kingdom, and while they didn't expect heavy resistance, it wouldn't do to allow some ne'er do well to pocket the item they unearthed and fence it.


Historians estimated that many civilizations existed before the Clover Kingdom and her neighbors, though they left little in the way of remnants. Dig sites and excavations were more common in the Forsaken Regions than the Noble or Common, as the cities and towns of Clover often absentmindedly destroyed artifacts and structures during their constructions. It was a blessing in the archeological communities of Clover when news broke of ancient ruins unearthed by prospectors in the Forsaken Realm, or relics recovered by Magic Knights in Dungeons deep underground.


This time around, some goat herders were taking their flock up around the mountains to dine on the nutritious grasses that thrived off the pure meltwater from the peaks, inadvertently finding a peculiar blade embedded in stone when the goats mowed down the grass. Or at least that's what the briefing said. Kingsley found that central command was quite back and forth when it came to mission briefings; sometimes a great amount of detail was shared with the Magic Knights assigned, and other times they were loathe to even give a crumbling of a hint towards the origin of a particular problem or project. Perhaps on one of his days off he would venture to central and give them a piece of his mind, though on second thought that did sound like a good way to get his butt kicked by whoever was in charge of such things.


Feeling the carriage come to a halt, Kingsley breached the door, earning himself a nose full of fetid air. This village was known only for one thing - the particularly overweight goats they raised that supplied a great deal of cheese and other dairy products around the Kingdom of Clover. The stench from their droppings suffused the atmosphere of the village, letting any traveler know front and center what kind of village this was.


Stepping out of his squad mate's carriage, the Purple Orca clenched his jaw and did his best to only take shallow breaths, preferring not to inhale the sulfurous stench of the village's livestock. According to his missive, there was a member of the Clover Archeological Society waiting for him in the center of town, ready to retrieve the blade from its resting place as safely as possible to ensure an intact specimen for study.