Sloperx22
Regular
A lonely moon waned. Long were the shadows cast by the veiled stars. Creatures of the night stalked through the underbrush of the Old Wood near Yalen. Wolves howled as the wind lightly danced through the branches of the ancient Yew trees. Falling leaves, dripping dew. The sounds of running water. Late had the days and nights became, the sun shining for no more than a handful of hours and moon residing overhead for many more. But the wood never changed. Its leaves green all year round. Not fading come fall nor dead come winter, but forever green. This was the Yalen "Olde Woaden" or Old Wood.
Rumors told, that a woodsman tended the glades. Protecting the everlong secrets of the Old Wood. He was spoke of only in myth and awe, a fireside tale for the children and travellers passing through. But it was witnessed by one man, the village idiot you may know him as. But what he witnessed out there in the Old Wood was truth...Truth of the Yalen Yeoman.
"In file and rank!" The Swadian troop commander beckoned to his men as they navigated the strange woods. "Unholy practices i tell thee mi lord. Tis' winter, but the trees still blossom as if in spring" The weary eyed yet weathered Swadian Knight-At-Arms called to his lord. "Don't worry your bald head Galdren, Tis' Rhodok land. Blasted peasant air fooling with our lordly minds" To that the commander replied, with a chorus of affirms and chuckles from his men.
Zffft....Zffft....Zffft
Three Swadian men-at-arms suddenly dropped dead, felled by arrows out of the dark. "Check the flanks! Watch the rear! Come About" The panicked calls from soldier to soldier filled the air as confusion set in.
Lord Faelwyn glanced around, wondering "How many? What weapons? Which 'Blasted' direction?". Something caught his eye. A figure moving from cover to cover behind the trees. "I have you now, Rhodok peasant" He cursed. Drawing his Flamberge gifted to him at the Arena Grand Tournament last winter. Swadian steel glistened in the night, reflecting the stars and moon.
Lord Faelwyn realised...The sounds of his men had ceased. "How could i have not realised" He thought, turning on the spot. "No one is sharper than I. How can he surprise me and my best court of men?" He murmured.
"Easy...You Smell Funny" Said an unwelcome Voice, Bowstring creaking. "You entered my wood uninvited. Prithee what business do swadians have in Rhodok country?" Asked the voice.
Lord Faelwyn stammered "I...I...I Uhm." Regaining his voice "I come on a peacefinding mission with tidings to the Rhodok King". "Yeah, that will fool him" He thought.
The voice said nothing, yet sniffed the air. Like an animal finding its prey, his headsnapped back to Lord Faelwyn "Do you know what i smell Swadian?" Lord Faelwyn turned to see the man, standing in the glade. Wearing naught but a leather hauberk and pants with his bow in hand. "I smell alot of things, Swadian. Sloperx, Yeoman Of Olde Woaden Smells alot...But I smell one thing keenest. Preythee do you wish me tell thee?" To that Lord Faelwyn stupidly replied "Yes".
Bowstring drawn and arrow primed, The Woodsman earlier named Sloperx The Yeoman paced toward the stunned Lord Faelwyn "I...Am a superb smeller...Of Absolute horse ****e" And loosed the arrow with such a deadly force, that Lord Faelwyn only said one word "Bollocks" before falling to the ground with an arrow embedded in his gaping mouth.
Several seasons passed with no word or return of Lord Faelwyn to the swadian lands. News of this reached the Rhodoks and they wondered unto themselves "We did not kill any swadians". The news soon reached the preying ears of the warrior of vagabond justice, one Gabeed. Whom journeyed to Yalen Old Wood to find this 'Yeoman" and ask him to join the HOBOKNIGHTS.
Carefully treading through the glades of the Olde Woaden. Gabeed felt unnerved, as if being watched.
"Prithee lost kindred. Why do you wonder in my woods this merry a morn" a voice asked from a nearby tree.
Gabeed halted in his steps and smiled "He will do" Gabeed thought. "Prithee woodsman..." "Ahem, i prefer to be called Woadensmann or Yeoman" The figure interupted "My apologies Woade...Erm...Yeoman. I seek council with you. War is coming to Calradia and i gather about myself a Knightly order. Prithee, Will you aid us in halting the swadian advance?" The figure pondered this for a moment "Firstly, What knightly order exists in Rhodok lands, And secondly. What is your name?" Gabeed straightened "I am HOBODUKE Gabeed, Founder and Leader Of The Knightly Order Called The HOBOKNIGHTS." The figure smiled "And Prithee, HOBODUKE..." "Did i just shout? This is ill befitting...I shouted". Gabeed smiled again "Ahh the HOBOSTRENGTH courses through you Yeoman, You'll do. Come lad. We must move" With that, and powerless to resist. The Woodsman Of Yalen Olde Woaden left his sanctuary.
Sloperx The HOBOKNIGHT was found.
Addendum: To popular belief, The Twenty Two. Words and Number alike, are symbolic as he carved them into his cheek after single handily ambushing the Swadian "Peace" party and felling twenty two men with his bow...Well 21. One of them got away...Later the name of the survivor reached the HOBOKNIGHT...BOLO.
End
Rumors told, that a woodsman tended the glades. Protecting the everlong secrets of the Old Wood. He was spoke of only in myth and awe, a fireside tale for the children and travellers passing through. But it was witnessed by one man, the village idiot you may know him as. But what he witnessed out there in the Old Wood was truth...Truth of the Yalen Yeoman.
"In file and rank!" The Swadian troop commander beckoned to his men as they navigated the strange woods. "Unholy practices i tell thee mi lord. Tis' winter, but the trees still blossom as if in spring" The weary eyed yet weathered Swadian Knight-At-Arms called to his lord. "Don't worry your bald head Galdren, Tis' Rhodok land. Blasted peasant air fooling with our lordly minds" To that the commander replied, with a chorus of affirms and chuckles from his men.
Zffft....Zffft....Zffft
Three Swadian men-at-arms suddenly dropped dead, felled by arrows out of the dark. "Check the flanks! Watch the rear! Come About" The panicked calls from soldier to soldier filled the air as confusion set in.
Lord Faelwyn glanced around, wondering "How many? What weapons? Which 'Blasted' direction?". Something caught his eye. A figure moving from cover to cover behind the trees. "I have you now, Rhodok peasant" He cursed. Drawing his Flamberge gifted to him at the Arena Grand Tournament last winter. Swadian steel glistened in the night, reflecting the stars and moon.
Lord Faelwyn realised...The sounds of his men had ceased. "How could i have not realised" He thought, turning on the spot. "No one is sharper than I. How can he surprise me and my best court of men?" He murmured.
"Easy...You Smell Funny" Said an unwelcome Voice, Bowstring creaking. "You entered my wood uninvited. Prithee what business do swadians have in Rhodok country?" Asked the voice.
Lord Faelwyn stammered "I...I...I Uhm." Regaining his voice "I come on a peacefinding mission with tidings to the Rhodok King". "Yeah, that will fool him" He thought.
The voice said nothing, yet sniffed the air. Like an animal finding its prey, his headsnapped back to Lord Faelwyn "Do you know what i smell Swadian?" Lord Faelwyn turned to see the man, standing in the glade. Wearing naught but a leather hauberk and pants with his bow in hand. "I smell alot of things, Swadian. Sloperx, Yeoman Of Olde Woaden Smells alot...But I smell one thing keenest. Preythee do you wish me tell thee?" To that Lord Faelwyn stupidly replied "Yes".
Bowstring drawn and arrow primed, The Woodsman earlier named Sloperx The Yeoman paced toward the stunned Lord Faelwyn "I...Am a superb smeller...Of Absolute horse ****e" And loosed the arrow with such a deadly force, that Lord Faelwyn only said one word "Bollocks" before falling to the ground with an arrow embedded in his gaping mouth.
Several seasons passed with no word or return of Lord Faelwyn to the swadian lands. News of this reached the Rhodoks and they wondered unto themselves "We did not kill any swadians". The news soon reached the preying ears of the warrior of vagabond justice, one Gabeed. Whom journeyed to Yalen Old Wood to find this 'Yeoman" and ask him to join the HOBOKNIGHTS.
Carefully treading through the glades of the Olde Woaden. Gabeed felt unnerved, as if being watched.
"Prithee lost kindred. Why do you wonder in my woods this merry a morn" a voice asked from a nearby tree.
Gabeed halted in his steps and smiled "He will do" Gabeed thought. "Prithee woodsman..." "Ahem, i prefer to be called Woadensmann or Yeoman" The figure interupted "My apologies Woade...Erm...Yeoman. I seek council with you. War is coming to Calradia and i gather about myself a Knightly order. Prithee, Will you aid us in halting the swadian advance?" The figure pondered this for a moment "Firstly, What knightly order exists in Rhodok lands, And secondly. What is your name?" Gabeed straightened "I am HOBODUKE Gabeed, Founder and Leader Of The Knightly Order Called The HOBOKNIGHTS." The figure smiled "And Prithee, HOBODUKE..." "Did i just shout? This is ill befitting...I shouted". Gabeed smiled again "Ahh the HOBOSTRENGTH courses through you Yeoman, You'll do. Come lad. We must move" With that, and powerless to resist. The Woodsman Of Yalen Olde Woaden left his sanctuary.
Sloperx The HOBOKNIGHT was found.
Addendum: To popular belief, The Twenty Two. Words and Number alike, are symbolic as he carved them into his cheek after single handily ambushing the Swadian "Peace" party and felling twenty two men with his bow...Well 21. One of them got away...Later the name of the survivor reached the HOBOKNIGHT...BOLO.
End
