Chivalry In The Snow

With as much as a gentle sigh as the wind around him, Jeke Kerron trudged on through knee-high snow. The trip to Tolkyn had been a bit rough but worth it to pay respects. And now here he was, trudging along the mountains to return to civilization. The snow was like powder as he guided Barrel. His horse was not made for such heights and he dared not burden his faithful companion.

He had been in Sarnia for a time, fetching work around Warfall. The dragon of Stonehall had proven rather tough for the band of adventurers but had been overcome. At least for a time before something else took the old fort. It would not take much, Sarnia being less than able to stop monstrous beings from getting a foothold in the rural areas.

Of course, there was that mess with the undead horde. Helios shone bright on that night of death. The return of a lich, one proposed to be one of infamy, had been the cause of the horde, of which he did not see. He did recall Black Order priest who had thrown herself into melee with the undead.

He smiled a bit. She had some fire in her that night. It was a shame he did not learn her name. She had the right energy to be a Weapons Master with time.

Barrel made a noise as they wound their way into lower altitudes. Jeke turned to look at his steed before surveying their surroundings. He did not see anything and almost dismissed it when Barrel repeated the noise. This time it came with the din of steel on steel. "Good boy," he breathed, air misting in front of him. He continued, this time steering towards the noise.

He came across the sight of a party and a rather dark looking monastery beneath him. Jeke crouched down, rock giving him cover as he listened to the people down there. There was a small figure down there, whom the armored figures seemed to be conversing with.

“I have heard of you.”

“We know the elven witch fled here alone, so the question is where did you come from?” Adder glanced toward the fortress. “Are you one of the ghosts that haunt the ruins of Gray Haven?”

“I told you already that I'm a traveller from Verden.” A moment's pause. “Wait. Did you say Gray Haven?”

“That's it behind you.” One of them leaned down from his saddle and tilted up her chin with a gloved finger. “If you're telling us the truth you're a long way from home, girl. What are you doing up here, and dressed like that in this climate?”

“As chance would have it, my friend I were picnicking in the valley far below this mountain when, as a I said, he fell ill and collapsed. I came hieing up here for help and was caught in the storm unprepared. It's as simple as that, really.”

“How long did it take you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“How long did it take you to reach this peak from the valley?”

Jeke heard the tone and observed the armored figures. The banner of their armor was a bit hard to make out, but if that building was Grey Haven... He had a bad feeling from this. He slinked back to Barrel to fetch his bow and quiver. He quickly bent the bow and strung it with a practiced move, knocking an arrow as he beheld those knights grabbing what was clearly a woman.

“Ow!” Orla cried out, wincing. “You're hurting me!”

“How did you get up here?” he demanded. “Was it with your pagan magic?”

Jeke sighted. He had heard enough.

The arrow hissed through the air and squarely planted itself into the elbow of the grasping hand of the knight. The force of a longbow was enough to knock him from the saddle and into the snow, screaming in pain as snow reddened.

"It is very unbecoming of knights to assault a woman who is unarmed and unclothed," he called out. The ringing of steel sliding free had him pop back up. An arrow sprouted from the side of a horse's neck. Both rider and steed fell to the ground, the latter dead as blood spurted once into the air. "The next one is through your eyes," he called down. "What business do knights of the realm have in assaulting a lady?"