The Kingdom of the Emerald Hills

The messenger rode along the edge of a small river, anxious to reach the gates of the Northern Lands. He had been given a missive to deliver to the Duchy Duke personally, and had been promised payment upon doing so. The parchment he carried had been delivered to him in the dark of night by a cloaked figure who spoke in hushed tones.

“Take this and deliver it those who lead the Northern Forces. It is important that this be done quickly and with much haste. Leave at once and take much care in your journey.”

After several days, the rider approached the Duchy gates. Searching out the leaders he delivered the package he was given.

“I was told to give this to you, and that I would receive payment for my journey.”

The Duke handed the youth a small bag of coins and bid him his leave. The Duke looked at the wax seal on the letter and a worried look crossed his face, for it was the mark of death and despair that sealed the parchment. Breaking the seal, the Duke opened the letter and began to read it to himself.

Unto those that protect the Northern Lands. A force of marauders has been observed headed to your lands. They are prophesied to be the destroyers of Crowns and will stop at nothing to accomplish their task. Gather your forces and defend your lands from this menace upon it. It has also been reported that they are in possession of an object that benefits its owner. Destroy the invaders and gain control of this valuable item. It will benefit you in the future.

Folding the parchment and putting it into a hidden pocket in his cloak, the Duke turned and strode off to conspire with his advisors. Meeting with those who held the Duchy dear, he began to speak.

“Gather our forces and prepare them for battle, for we are to be invaded and must turn this attack away. We meet on the field of battle in one moons time.”

Looking out the window, overlooking the Duchy, the Duke had a concerned look in his eyes. “Pray to the Goddess that we are able to overcome this foreboding pestilence and that all will be as it should be in the end,” he whispered to himself.

To be continued …..

Sir Trinity
Tyrant of the Emerald Hills
Captain of Sable Pride
Lord of Shadows
Duke of Despair

"Your death is all about choices. Today, tomorrow, next week, or next year...it all just depends on when I make the choice."

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The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu

The inebriated men forced their way to the bar. Merriment and jeering had been spent hours ago. Only sobering concern remained.

For the past three hours, the victorious joy permeated the smoky air in the tightly packed tavern.

Stories of the successful battle filled every heart in the place.

"And the servants of the emerald dragon came and stood with us! Truly, our kingdom is united!" Young men yelled as they took deep gulps of dark ale.

"The sable dragon and it's naga minions were no match for the true duchy of Finders Keep! They were outnumbered six to one!", bellowed a hardened veteran.

He tipped his chair against the wooden column near the exit. His back faced the busy entrance. His chin pressed against his quiet chest. The chair occasionally complained of being balance on it's hind legs. Just another patron enjoying the laborious fruit of a few.

"I didn't even get a scratch!" yelled a middle aged man, seemingly freshly bathed, dressed as if ready for midday sacrifice.

Sutra listened to the most obvious explanations of their success this day.

He had been two days behind the battle in arriving. He hadn't planned on coming to the keeps aid since word reached him that a battalion of 30 dragon servants were marching north.

His trip to the west had been an experience worthy of a good night by the fire. Today, he listened as the description of the dragon, naga servants, and a pack of black dogs filled the mouths of the merry.

Some bragged to have seen the necklace the young boy had looted off the dragons scaly corpse. What it's power was would soon be revealed.

Sutra peered into the crowd and noticed the familiar faces of cut throats and wondered how the young man managed to leave their homeland alive, let alone with the artifact.

He chuckled as he bit into the small bitter green apple and made his way to the exit.

His travels would see him visiting the east now. To the place know as the Mystic Mountains, there a festival had been called for. Nobility from the eastern corners were said to be gathering then.

Sutra wondered what lavish foods awaited those who attended.

Chuckling he pulled his cloak tight against his shoulders and slowly ventured into the late night.

Victory had been theirs today, how long it would last; that was the fun part.

S
[con't]

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The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu