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Twilight made the outlines of the forest landscape indistinct as Johnathan looked around his small camp. The light from his fire danced merrily around the clearing casting shadows here and there and glinting dully off his red-hued armor. He frowned and studied the ground between his feet as he thought about the past few days while reaching for his sword. Pulling it from its sheath he sat down and pulled a smooth stone from a pouch in his pack. He had long since let the upkeep of his weapons and armor grow into its own ritual, but it was something he always took great pride in, as did all the Knights....
All of them...but where were his brethren? So long since the great gatherings that were recorded in the history books shook the halls. The celebrations when one would join their ranks or when one would return with tales of glorious deeds and daring exploits toting the proof of their deeds packs, saddlebags, or sometimes whole carts. These days were little more than words on a page when he had finally attained his own spot among those who embody the essence of the cause. Johnathan sighed and ran the stone down the blade in a smooth, clean sweep, the steel humming softly in response. As always, such thoughts brought forth a bitterness that the Knight didn't understand. He had known when he started this path that it was considered a dying tradition. Even the Elite among those that served the cause declined the opprotunity to ascend to the ranks of the Knight, fearing they, like the title and position, would be forgotten, left behind, abandoned....
Lost deep in thought, the Knight missed the signs anyone attuned to the forest would have known instantly. The hush of the birds and insects, the rustle of grass and leaves with no wind, and the soft breath of things not belonging to the forest. Where attunment to the forest failed him, however, training as a Knight saved him. Long hours of practice and drilling combined with a mind melded and shaped around battle made the soft rasp of steel being drawn sound like thunder rolling through the still twilight.
The smooth stone stopped its path down the edge of the blade.
The steel continued to hum softly.
The night became eerily silent.
Setting the stone gently to the side, the Knight drew a simple dagger from his boot and lifted his sword, holding it vertically in front of him. A flash of light from the polished blade swept across the clearing, sending shadows dancing, and revealing those that remained still. A soft sigh escaped the Knight as he waited a moment. For one brief moment, he wished he was farming instead.
The dagger,guided by the reflected movement in the upraised blade in front of the Knight, took the gnoll squarely in the stomach as it emerged from the edge of the clearing directly behind the armored figure, and slowed it down considerably. This allowed Johnathan the precious few seconds to go from sitting to standing, a change in position that could easily turn the tide of any ambush.
The rest of the fight was a blur. Steel flashed, gnolls and goblins screamed. The Knight may have as well. When it was done, there were several bodies splayed about the clearing and the Knight bent to bandage his arm.
"I should have been a farmer." he mumbled as he gathered his things and turned into the forest.
All of them...but where were his brethren? So long since the great gatherings that were recorded in the history books shook the halls. The celebrations when one would join their ranks or when one would return with tales of glorious deeds and daring exploits toting the proof of their deeds packs, saddlebags, or sometimes whole carts. These days were little more than words on a page when he had finally attained his own spot among those who embody the essence of the cause. Johnathan sighed and ran the stone down the blade in a smooth, clean sweep, the steel humming softly in response. As always, such thoughts brought forth a bitterness that the Knight didn't understand. He had known when he started this path that it was considered a dying tradition. Even the Elite among those that served the cause declined the opprotunity to ascend to the ranks of the Knight, fearing they, like the title and position, would be forgotten, left behind, abandoned....
Lost deep in thought, the Knight missed the signs anyone attuned to the forest would have known instantly. The hush of the birds and insects, the rustle of grass and leaves with no wind, and the soft breath of things not belonging to the forest. Where attunment to the forest failed him, however, training as a Knight saved him. Long hours of practice and drilling combined with a mind melded and shaped around battle made the soft rasp of steel being drawn sound like thunder rolling through the still twilight.
The smooth stone stopped its path down the edge of the blade.
The steel continued to hum softly.
The night became eerily silent.
Setting the stone gently to the side, the Knight drew a simple dagger from his boot and lifted his sword, holding it vertically in front of him. A flash of light from the polished blade swept across the clearing, sending shadows dancing, and revealing those that remained still. A soft sigh escaped the Knight as he waited a moment. For one brief moment, he wished he was farming instead.
The dagger,guided by the reflected movement in the upraised blade in front of the Knight, took the gnoll squarely in the stomach as it emerged from the edge of the clearing directly behind the armored figure, and slowed it down considerably. This allowed Johnathan the precious few seconds to go from sitting to standing, a change in position that could easily turn the tide of any ambush.
The rest of the fight was a blur. Steel flashed, gnolls and goblins screamed. The Knight may have as well. When it was done, there were several bodies splayed about the clearing and the Knight bent to bandage his arm.
"I should have been a farmer." he mumbled as he gathered his things and turned into the forest.
