The Rise of The Immortals

Chapter III : The Knight

The sky blushed like a newlywed wife as the Sun kissed the scattered clouds and a warm breeze blew through the streets of Alidora. It would have been an amazing mood setter if not for all the carnage that was taking place at its once peaceful borders. Burning rocks flew up ahead and landed on the structures that took years of patience and labor to put up. The last fort guarding the borders had fallen and now all that lay between the beasts and the civilians were the brave hearts who were sacrificing their souls.

The castle was barricaded by a single wall and surrounded by a deep moat. Only four roads led out of the castle, which was connected to the city roads by drawbridges. Inside the walls lay various strongholds and towers. Two hundred strong stood up to meet the enemy head on at the borders, soldiers, knights, paladins, wizards, elves. Though the enemy had the upper hand, their spirits were not dulled the least. Most fought till their last breaths. Yet they could not bring down even half the horde that invaded the innocent lands. Only a couple dozen retreated from the gruesome battle to lock themselves up in the castle, surrounded by the mangy devils.

Sir Ravensworth Lavenfield was one of the ten Golden ranked knights who were posted in Alidora as direct order from the court of Keralot, Capital city of Belador. He was one of the very few warriors who could successfully retreat from the massacre and was now lying on the ground inside the castle in front of one of the drawbridges. His silvery shining armor with the golden gloves and breastplate was shattered at various placed and revealed the chainmail below. Blood oozed out of the various joints and his sight had gone dim due to the great blow he received in the head by the hammer of one of the brutes. The holy axe of light, Rictrude was clutched in his right hand, dripping with blood. His other hand held bravely his mighty shield, the outline of a lion carved expertly on the outside. The golden shield was snapped in two and he held only the upper portion as the remaining laid somewhere in the streets, being trampled on by the savages.

All the remaining warriors, together with the castle guards and the workers pulled the ropes of the drawbridges like their lives depended on it. Because it did. From the other side the brutes had shot various grappling hooks and tied spears that connected to the wooden parts of the drawbridge, and they pulled with all their strength. Their catapults could not enter that further within the city for the streets were too narrow for the contraptions to pass through. The drawbridges were the only elements that separated the remaining people from a gruesome slaughter.

"The Duke... and his family", thought Sir Ravensworth. Slowly he stood up; with a new flame blazing in his eyes. "Light... grant me strength!" he shouted throwing his helm away and dashing towards the throne room.

"Sire! What are the orders?" asked a soldier as he ran past her.

"Hold the drawbridges till thy last breath! I shall tryeth to receive the Duke and the nobles to safety." Sir Ravensworth replied in his deep booming voice.

"Aye Sir", she answered as she headed off to fulfill her orders, her grim fate already visible in her eyes.

The extravagantly ornamented throne room was now bustling with all the panic-stricken people running hitherto and shouting curses towards each other. The Royal Advisor, Lord Farthrak stood melancholically by the eastern balcony, overlooking the ruin the city was being converted into. Sir Ravensworth headed straight towards him, knowing he was the only man who would still hold up some of his sanity.

"Lord Farthrak I prithee, have thee any idea as to what should be done anon?"

With a gentle sigh the wise old man answered, "There is a hidden chamber at the far end of the Royal Gardens; its doorway is hidden beneath the statue of the first Duke. Get the Duke and his men and head into the chamber and follow the pathway that leads to the Southwest. The corridor ends with a staircase that rises to the southernmost part of the city. Follow the uneven terrains, away from the city and you will arrive at the banks of the river Warlow. From there head upstream and you will find yourselves in the valley of Drakensburg."

"But we lack our mounts. How shall we maketh such a journey?" queried the bewildered knight.

" 'Tis naught but a few days trek if you strictly follow the banks of the river. The descent to the river however should be handled with caution. But that's a risk you must take" answered the advisor calmly.

"V'ry well then, Sir. Lead the way" said the knight as he turned to address the crowd.

"One more thing Sir Ravensworth" called Lord Farthrak. "The pathway is very thin and by the sight of the brutes' inhuman strength, I feel our guards will not be able to hold much longer. We have very little time and thus I suggest that we must only bring a very limited group with us."

The man was right, but the thought of leaving so many people behind to fall into the hands of the savages made the knight's heart sink. Almost all of his brethren had fallen and the handful that was left was also going to be slaughtered. But his duty was to save the Duke at whatever cost. Grinding his teeth he headed off to the living quarters, as the advisor strode impatiently towards the Gardens.

In the living quarters he was met with the Duke standing by the window with his wife hugging him from behind, silent tears dampening his shirt. Their son stood by the fireplace, a sword clutched in his inexperienced hands.

With a gentle yet commanding voice Sir Ravensworth spoke, "Milord, we might not but be hasty. The brutes art but almost upon us. Lord Farthrak devic'd a way for us to escape unscathed. Grab thy belongings and meeteth mine own at the Royal Gardens as festinate as possible. I shall gather a few more attendants."

With one last mournful gaze towards his beloved town, Duke Gentaros faced the knight and gave a slight nod. Sir Ravensworth bowed and left to find a few other 'important' members.

The sunlight had almost faded. The soldiers holding the drawbridges were growing exhausted and the bridges were falling inch by inch until they were almost within the reach of the savages. Sir Ravensworth gathered the Duke's family, a couple of Royal Guards, an archer, three attendants and two more members of the Royal Council and met up with Lord Farthrak by the lifelike statue of the first Duke in the Royal Gardens. Fortunately, not many noticed them as they made their way out of the back gates. After collectively pushing over the statue, a secret underground doorway was revealed. Grabbing a few burning torches then headed down and locked the doorway from within.

After walking for a few hours through the dark corridor, the group made their way out of the staircase and landed on a very thin and uneven path that seemingly led down to the thin silhouette of a river. As the group dusted themselves and checked the surroundings, Sir Ravensworth cast a glance towards the burning city they left behind. Smoke rose from various regions as faint screams and cries could still be heard as the savages made it their playground.

"Forgive me son, for I couldst not avenge thee tonight. I gage yond on a day at which hour mine own duties shall not tieth mine own hands, I wouldst either slaughter every one of these beasts or p'rish in the attempt" silently swore the knight as he led the way down the rugged path, towards the river. The wounds on his body were naught but an itch compared to those on his soul. This brave warrior was unaware that even worse peril awaited him in his path. But one thing he knew, his body was prepared to take on the worst of the worst for his heart was guided by the Light.