Tinveil

He strode to the center of the arena and waited implacably. His sword held loosely in his hand at his side. Other than that he wore only a small loincloth and a close-fitting helmet with the visor that earned him his name, Tinveil. To him it did not matter who the sent out, he knew. They would die. He only hope that this one fought well and honored his own life. That his life was shit and that he...

Amrick: Bittersweet price of winning

The sun rose slowly over the tournament grounds of Hesterbur, a faint line along the horizon. He stood silently, facing the brightest spot of the horizon and symbolically perhaps the day before him. He was a very tall man, only a few inches from seven feet in fact, his shoulders seemed impossibly wide and his waist ridiculously narrow. Even his most charitable enemy conceded that he was a...

A Debt to Fate

Her life was hard in ways that few could understand. She was a good girl from a good family, their farm was not large, but it afforded them a comfortable lifestyle. Their farm comprised most of the township and her father was a favorite of the Baron, and she was soon to find that she was the favorite of the Baronet, his son. Taela Caerdan was a beautiful girl of fourteen when he convinced her to...

The Charge

Pale fog swirled around the hooves of the horses as they fell into line along the base of the reversed slope, the side of the long rolling hill opposite of the enemy. They assembled in standard interval, one trooper and one horse accounted for five feet of line apiece, spaced nearly stirrup to stirrup. Twenty feet behind them the next row formed, five feet per man and mount. Five rows deep, each...

Traveler’s Harvest: Martina

She watched him carefully as he bucked the straps of his helmet and closed the visor. He appeared distant and passionless, quite obviously focused. He donned his heavy gauntlets and accepted his practice sword. Several minutes of weapon exercises left her warm and loose, ready for the bout. “Be careful, Martina,” her companion warned her. “He is incredibly good.” “Good,” she smiled....

Randy

Her saddlebags felt heavy, perhaps the time to lighten them a bit. She unpacked them on the bed, after checking the mattress for unwelcome guests. She never found them at the Traveler but the habit was now firmly ingrained in her. A tightly rolled oilskin fell out on top, she smiled and carefully unrolled it, exposing a beautifully completed proclamation, Arandielle Kyle, Knight of the Realm. She...