Chapter4

Krynn stalked away from the king's chambers... face hot with anger at his brother, and hot with shame for having failed his king yet again. As he approached his quarters, he saw his aide, Grahn pacing back and forth in front of the doorway.

"Grahn!" Krynn barked. Grahn, startled from his reverie, jumped and rattled in his chainmail.

"Y-Y-Yes milord...?" Grahn stammered as he bowed his head clumsily.

"Call together all of my men. All of them, with the exception of a skeleton crew in each city equipped with comm crystals... they are to meet in one hour at the Jhelom training pits. No exceptions." Krynn brushed past his aide into his quarters where he threw his helm at the wall in disgust. It clattered and thunked to the floor soundly.

"M-M-My liege, sir..." Grahn whined. "What is the reason I should tell them for the m-m-meeting?"

Krynn bridged the few steps between he and his aide in a single stride and grasped Grahn by the throat. "I need no reason! My will alone will serve as answer enough for any of my men! Now get the hell out of my sight." He released the gasping aide. "One hour, Grahn... Move it!" Grahn hastily bowed and took off rattling down the hallway.

"Worthless piece of mongbat dung..." Krynn muttered to himself and set about getting himself ready. A change of armor and clothes was in order for a meeting of this magnitude. He shut and locked the door and began to peel off the layers of metal that served as his only protection from a world full of miscreants armed with blades and arrows. Each day the ritual of donning and doffing his armor reminded him of just how messed up Sosaria really was. He stood there for a while, enjoying the feel of the cool air on his bare chest and back, his grizzled hair on both tousled in all directions. He went to his closet, selecting another tunic and pair of long pants, as well as the finest midnight blue cloak he owned. On the other side of the closet sat his good set of platemail, worn only for the finest occasions or when he needed to stand out amongst his men as he would need to shortly. Crafted with exceptional quality from the finest in gold ore by Tim Dunca - the king's personal blacksmith - the metal, still polished, shone brilliantly and proudly. Krynn always took great pride in wearing that set of armor. He set to strapping it on and stood before his mirror when he had finished. It was beautiful as usual - no dents, no scratches... perfect in every way. He brushed his fingers through his thick, long, graying blonde hair. "No matter," he thought aloud. He knew his helmet would muss it anyhow. He turned and donned his sash that signified his rank in the army and his cloak, clipping it firmly into place. Krynn pulled his prized sword from the other suit's scabbard and looked it over. It was still a magnificent sword, albeit beaten severely over time. It was a gift from the king upon his induction as Captain of the Guard - a blessed, indestructible, supremely accurate viking sword of vanquishing. Used in countless battles versus a slew of enemies ranging from daemons to liches to Minax's black knights. Ever victorious, it had never let him down. He brought the blade to his lips and kissed it lightly, feeling power vibrating throughout it. He sheathed it and grabbed his tempered helm... it was time...

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The boat slowed and glided to a stop adjacent to the rocky shore. Kendrik extended the plank while Kendra informed the tillerman where to pick them up from. The old man nodded obediently and made promises of quick travel. Kendra gathered her belongings and disembarked, rushing after her hasty brother.

"Wait up, bro... is your ass on fire or something?" Kendra dodged a tree branch that threatened to knock her hat off.

"Not particularly... it's still dark, but won't be for long. I'd like to get to Jhelom before the sun rises so I can get into my disguise. I don't want to risk Buc's without it." Kendrik deftly dodged a sneaky corpser's writhing tentacle and stabbed at its main stalk, setting the whole carnivorous plant quivering in pain. A few more well placed stabs with his kryss finally put it to rest. The nimble thief scored a victory, but not without a few scratches and cuts of his own.

"Dammit, Ken... can't you do anything without wounding yourself?" Kendra set her crossbow down and cast a Greater Heal onto her roughed up brother.

"C'mon, sis... little scratches - nothing more. Besides... you know I don't trust that magic crap...it tickles." He trudged on through the thick vegetation striking tree limbs and bushes from his path. After a bit more walking and a few more scuffles with the local plantlife, they arrived safely at the outskirts of town.

"Whew... that ungodly smell... must be close to the stables, eh?" Kendrik screwed up his nose as best he could to block out the smell.

"Ayup... wait here... I'll be right back with our mounts." Kendra walked ahead a ways to the fenced in area. She called a stablemaster over and handed him the stable tickets for their horses. He disappeared into the stables and came back leading the two horses out. Kendra was excited to see them both in such good condition. She gave the stablemaster some extra gold for apples and bid him farewell. She fed Misty and Schmendrik both then led them back to where her she had left her brother. At least to where she thought she had left her brother... "Gone again..." Kendra sighed heavily, then commanded Schmendrik to wait there. She mounted Misty then trotted over towards the bank. Sure enough, about halfway there she heard "GUARDS!!" and a flash of black and purple come tearing out of the tailor shop.

"Hey, sis!" Kendrik cried as he zoomed past her. Kendra looked back at the shop as a man in his underwear came barreling out.

"Stop!! Thief!! What?? I pay my taxes and no guards?!" The man was shouting and jumping up and down, shaking his fist... It was such a scene that Kendra couldn't help but laugh. She took off after her brother, giggling the entire way.
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