Saturday, June 6, 2015

Balder Ironshield

Balder Ironshield stepped carefully through the battlefield. The bodies of the slaughtered knights and their mounts littered the hillside. Clutching holy symbol, he uttered  prayers for the fallen. " They're Tormish, to be true, and human, but i don't think Clangeddin will mind. Honored dead are honored dead."
"Well mostly human", he said as he stood looking at the fallen troop commander.
"Lieutenant Lady Arken here was an Aasimar." Balder gazed down for several long moments. Picking up her fallen longsword, he frowned. "Doesn't make sense." he said examining the sword. "I recognise this Hall-mark" turns the blade, " and the Master mark! This is one of the finest swords west of Cormyr!" Planting the sword point first next to it's owner, he bent to examine the body closer.
"Obvious wound to the neck" he said referring to the almost decapitation, "but here are two strange punctures to the lower back. Hmmm. Something strange is going on here."
Letting the body fall back, he stepped to the dead mount. Drawing a fighting knife, he worked at an object imb'edded in the warsaddle. After a minute he managed to pry free a small bolt head the strange metal flaking in his haminvds. Cursing he stowed the bolthead in his spiked gauntlet and stood quickly. Witgh a speed and grace that belied his earlier ponderous gait, Balder quickly moved around the battlefield,the Axe gripped tigghtly in his left hand. He scanned the battlefield knowing what he'd find but praying he was wrong.
He wasn't
He turned to the group of knights waiting on the road above and made a signal.

 Captain Lady Kimber Swordsheen, fed apple slices to her war horse as she watched Balder walk the battlefield. She was sweating in her goldwashed plate and her white surcoat. "He must be baking in that black enameled Adamantine plate." she mused.
"Thirty seven dead" she thought bitterly. "All mine. Torm help me,  but someone's going to pay. "
"What's he doing NOW?!?" The voice broke her out of her reverie, grating on her nerves.
"He's doing what I asked. Now be quiet,  Bjorn, or I'll have you escorted back to Nesmé!"
Turning her attention back to Balder, she noticed he was moving quickly across the battlefield. "When he wants to, Balder can move as nimbly as any Waterhavian duelist" she noted with amusement. He stopped, and looking right at her, signalled something. Raising her hand to shade her eyes she stepped forward waiting for Balder  to send it again. When he did, her blood ran cold as she read the sign.
Clapping her helm on her head she swings into her saddle, voice ringing out "Sir Rollo! Raise the Eagle! Sir Gwydion!  Sound Recall and Rally To The Colors! "
"Wh wh what? " Bjorn sputtered
"What did he say? " Bjorn demanded
As the white silken flag with a golden eagle unfurled and clear bugle notes sounded, Kimber reined her mount around and looking grimly at the Northman, said "Drow. That was the Dwarven Tunnelspeak sign for Drow ".
Balder looks up as Kimber approaches leading his horse.
"You're sure? " she asked
"Aye,  lass. I'm sure" he sighed.
By now the scattered knights were converging on the upraised banner.
Half hour later, they were formed up and moving swiftly south towards Nesmé.

1 comment:

Gordzilla said...

Nice job Tony, well written