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PostPosted: Wed Oct 08, 2014 2:22 am 
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CHAPTER ONE: Wherein Our Heroes Are Introduced; a Mynah Bird Lands


The history of the world is but the biography of great men.

It was the first day of spring in the year 376Æ, and the fourth year of peace under King Barlow II's rule. At the start of every winter the king of Manhattan would call the surcession of his court so that his liegemen might tend to their holdings throughout his kingdom, and on the first day of spring, would reopen the great hall to his subjects so that there would be feasting and gaming in celebration of the relinquishment of winter's hold on the land. All of the king's neighborhoods would send their representatives, from the venerable Sugar Hill in the north to the audacious Chinatown in the south; from the vast holdings of Harlem to the small block of Tudor City. Some men and women came with grievances to air, others with alms to beg, although most fiefdoms' representatives came to the Freedom Tower with nothing but expectations of merriment at the start of a new year. It is with this first day of spring, this day of rebirth and transformation, that a great tale begins...

Now Thomas Knopf was a studious man from the Spanish Harlem, a fiefdom of considerable import to the kingdom due to its hold on the Triborough Bridge, that connected to both Queens and the Bronx via Wards Island. Thomas, who had recently come to the position of abbot of his community's chapel, was known by his congregation to be a man of great piety and so soon earned the esteem of the neighborhood's lord, one Corrinne Ellsworth. The Sunday one week before our tale begins found Thomas Knopf administering to his flock, delivering the Blessed Sacrament to the men and women of his congregation.

A dark-featured man fair of skin, with a shock of black hair that framed a squared yet youthful face, Thomas Knopf possessed a proud countenance despite his humble birth as a coppersmith's son. In fact with his tall frame and broad shoulders the abbot was rather regal in bearing, and at a glance could instill in his audience a hushed sense of wonder.

"Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again," said he, gesturing with one hand whilst reading from the Book.

"Energy can neither be created nor destroyed," the congregation intoned in response, as the first row moved toward the altar where Thomas awaited.

"Take this and eat of it; for this is My body which will be given up for you for the forgiveness of sins. Do this in memory of Me," Thomas delivered, while moving from one kneeling congregant to the next. At each member he offered the Body of Christ - a black-and-copper rectangular cube small enough to fit into an enclosed hand, with two differently-sized nodes protruding from the copper cap. The Body of Christ was pressed against each person's tongue, and each man and woman there shivered with the odd tingling sensation that accompanied the absolution of their sins.

Thomas concluded the Blessed Sacrament and after a closing hymn the congregation dispersed, to return to their homes to rest on the last Sabbath before the new year. In securing the empty church from trespassers Thomas entered his code into the terminal just beside the front doors, and after pressing 'away' the terminal began to beep periodically in warning. Thomas locked the doors behind him and began the short walk to his home down 1st Ave toward the bridge. With his home so near the river border with Wards Island, Thomas passed many bridge warders whose duties took them to and from the westward guardhouse each day. In passing Thomas greeted many by name and was greeted warmly in turn, such was the new Abbot's standing in his community.

Not far from the intersection that would lead to his apartment building Thomas overheard a great cry coming from the direction of the Triborough Bridge, and saw many men running from the guard house toward the foot of the long suspension bridge. The kingdoms of Manhattan and Queens not being at war with one another, citizens from either side of the river were free to travel as their business took them and there was nothing odd in seeing several dozen men and women traverse the great expanse each day. Perplexed by what could cause the commotion then, Thomas ventured further toward the bridge to verify that all was well. Wearing a tartan duffel coat against the cold over his black liturgical uniform, the abbot was not immediately distinguished from the rest of the gathering crowd despite standing nearly half a head above the others, but was content not to push through for an unobstructed view.

At their end of the Triborough Bridge, four of the bridge wardens stood in rank with hands on their weapons - three ash wood spears and a hand-and-a-half sword. Across the expanse of the bridge a figure moved toward them, and even from such a great distance Thomas was able to understand the guards' apprehension. The figure limped and swayed as though injured, and yet moved with a certain belying speed as though compelled forward from within despite his presumed injuries. Because of the distance and the contorted posture Thomas was unable to determine if the approaching figure was man or woman - even the garb gave no clue from afar.

When the approaching figure came within earshot of the armed bridge warders, the captain of the guard cried "Halt there! State your business!"

"State your business in the name of the king!" he continued when his first command went unheeded, while the figure approached yet closer.

"Identify yourself and state your business or be cut down!" the captain of the guard demanded. When neither reply nor deviation from his or her path was made by the approaching figure, the captain of the guard unsheathed his sword and signaled to the three men beside him, who positioned themselves in a small hemisphere in front of him, the tips of their spears lowered horizontally, poised to strike. Awed by this person who would encourage such dismay in these bridge wardens, Thomas Knopf found himself wondering just who this traveler was, and what about his or her destination so preoccupied them to the preclusion of any guards' commands. He also wondered where the figure came from - had he or she passed unmolested from Queens; the Bronx?

Thomas Knopf watched on, greatly intrigued.


Last edited by Catsmeat on Thu Oct 16, 2014 10:05 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Wed Oct 08, 2014 8:31 pm 
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With one foot in front of the other the figure closed the distance between the four-man formation. Nervousness seeped into the hands of the bridge wardens, causing the points of the spears to waver as they looked to their Captain for guidance. Their reaction did not escape the keen eye of the Captain, and fearing that his men may break for fear of the mysterious figure, the Captain strode forth. He could not tolerate such a failing from his underlings. Its memory would tarnish his reputation. It was but a single adversary and, despite the tatty cloak that covered the figure, the Captain's burly frame dwarfed the would-be-attacker. As the crowd pressed for a closed view, the Captain struck a heroic view atop the bridge and, for a moment, he reveled in the attention. Raising his sword, which flashed fire in the fading sun, he repeated, "Identify yourself and state your business or be cut down!"

Another step followed without the barest hints of heeding the Captain. The blade fell. . .

. . . And came to a stop a foot and a half from the hooded figure. The Captain's eyes revealed a level of reverence while his mouth stood agape in awe. From the folds of the cloak extended a hand, and held between its slim fingers was a rail-pistol, an archaic weapon of the past and a symbol of Knighthood. It was held not with an intent to dispatch the bridge warden, but as a declaration; the way a king might hold his hand up to silence an audience. Beneath the hood issued forth a distinctly feminine voice, "Bring me an Electrician." Her voice was weighted with pain, anger, and a frightening determination. Yet even this could no longer force another step from her. As her legs gave way beneath her the hood fell from her brow revealing the high cheek bones and almond eyes of an Easterner. The cloak splayed out over her prone body. A bolt of lightning was embroidered into its fabric, declaring the woman as not only a knight, but a knight of the Electrician's Guild's Holy Citadel.

With the form lying motionless on the ground, the bridge wardens approached cautiously, their spears still held at the ready. The bewilderment having passed, the Captain began barking orders loud enough for even the crowd of civilians to hear, "Murphy! Bring the guardhouse's physician. Paul! Find Father Thomas. He may not have yet left the chapel." Snapping to attention, the two guards made way to each of their respective destinations. "Elijah! Keep watch on the bridge." With that final order the Captain stooped to lift the knight and began carrying her off the bridge.

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And with stranger aeons even death may die


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PostPosted: Thu Oct 16, 2014 9:55 pm 
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Now there arose from the men and women gathered around the bridge great cries of consternation and confusion when the intruder was identified as a knight. Thomas Knopf, intrigued by the woman's words and hearing his name called for, pushed through the gathering throng as he announced himself. "Here I am," said he, discarding his duffel coat so that all could see his clerical collar. "Make way for Father Thomas!" shouted others as they identified him, and soon he came to the front of the crowd, by which time the captain of the guard had collected the collapsed woman and made to carry her to safety.

Thomas tried but failed to recognize the unconscious woman; a look passing between he and the guard at this woman's strangeness to him. The physician soon approached, Gaddiel Joseph, a Brooklyner by birth who had come to Corrinne Ellsworth's notice in the court of the king some years before. In the beginning of his service there were some who questioned the wisdom of allowing a Brooklyner to care for the men who guarded an abridging border, but the doctor had soon won the bridgemen's trust and that of the Spanish Harlem townspeople. With his short stature and stooped frame the man's head came nearly level with the knight's as he quickly examined her.

"Bring her inside," he declared, motioning for the captain to follow him as he returned to the guardhouse. Thomas Knopf followed too, and noted with amazement that as the woman was carried inside the guardhouse, a starling landed at the apex of the roof with a flutter of its small wings. Seeing that this was no common starling but in fact a mynah native to the Orient, Thomas knew the little bird to be an auspicious omen. A studied auspex himself, Thomas made the sign of the cross and bowed his head to the mynah bird as he entered the guardhouse.

Inside the darkened room, the amulet against his chest grew warm to the touch as it recognized dead lighting units around it. Gripping the amulet and making a gesture with his other hand Thomas lit the rooms, the bulbs eliciting a pale yellow light in response. The captain of the guard and one of his men gave Father Thomas a bemused look but the physician was accustomed to working under the light of the Lord and quickly set about administering to the woman's health.

Thinking of the omen he had seen, Thomas Knopf wondered just who this knight was, and what need compelled her to see an Electrician despite the injuries that had drawn her so very close to death's grip. Whoever she was, clearly the Lord had favored her with His sign.


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PostPosted: Thu Oct 30, 2014 9:52 pm 
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Gaddiel began tending to the woman, peeling away the crude, blood stained dressing at her side. A ragged gash seeped its crimson fluid, staining the table upon which she was set. He made his way about the room, gathering what he needed in silence from amid the clutter of instruments and medical paraphernalia. Holding up a needle to a lighting unit, he deftly threaded it. His long fingers worked skillfully to close the wound, after which he bound it in a new bandage. The Captain and the Father waited, and watched. It was some time before he wiped his brow and addressed the Bridge Guard Captain and Father Knopf. Leading them to an adjoining room he said, "She'll live, but her recovery will take time. I'll have someone call you when she wakens." The Captain nodded and made to return to his post when the crash of collapsing glass called out from the medical ward.

The trio burst into the room once more, and was met by the Knight. She leaned heavily against the counter. Some growing spots of red marked the re-opening of her wound beneath the bandage. About her feet lay the shattered remnants of a beaker. Gaddiel rushed forward, reaching out a supporting hand lest she fall again. "You need to rest. Your wounds are significant," he urged, but she weakly brushed him aside replying, "I need to find an Electrician." Looking up from between the wayward strands of her hair she noticed Father Knopf for the first time. Making the sign of the cross she bowed to the man. "Father, I need you help." For a moment the lights flickered erratically. "The Holy Citadel has been attacked."

"Attacked?" exclaimed the Captain incredulously, "How? By who? What of Lord Marlough's forces?"

"Crabmen," she offered in answer. "We had received reports of a small tide pressing at the northern boarder. A call to arms was issued. A force was drafted, mostly of Lord Marlough's men, and a few of the Knights Chargers. We met the crabs, but there were more than we received in our scout reports. The Tracks. They slipped past our lines through the underground and came from behind." Her face contorted into a grimace of pain as she clutched her wound. Gaddiel brought forward a stood, resigned that the headstrong knight was not going to lie down. Nodding in appreciation she took the seat and resumed her tale. "We fell back, and sent out warnings. The plan was to hold them off for as long as possible while the people evacuated, but we couldn't stand against that many. The survivors made for the Citadel. It was the best place to defend, but I'm not sure how long they can last. The Citadel isn't a fortress and with the flood of refugees I don't know how long their food will last." She turned her brown eyes on Thomas, "Father. I need your help. We need the forces of King Barlow."

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And with stranger aeons even death may die


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 31, 2014 1:23 am 
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"How dreadful!" Father Thomas declared upon hearing the news. A peaceful man, like as not to turn the other cheek whether insulted or assaulted, and yet he felt at that moment a deep stirring in his bosom - a powerful call to action from the Lord God. With the destruction of their defensive forces by the heinous Crabmen, and the Holy Citadel itself under siege, Thomas Knopf knew that it was his duty to help take back the Citadel from the demonic horde assaulting it, in whatever way he could. As a man of meager repute it was not easily seen just how the young priest would endeavor to save the Holy Citadel, but his first step was clearly before him: deliver this Charger south to the Freedom Tower to tell the tale to King Barlow.

"My lady you must rest now - but never fear, nothing will hinder me on my path until the Citadel stands free once more! Gaddiel, please see to it that she receives your full attention during her convalescence." With that, Thomas turned and left them in the Guardhouse while he made his way for Lady Corrinne Ellsworth's holdfast. The holdfast was a single building covering a full city block, ten uniform stories of vibrant red brick and lustrous blue glass - looking like a bejewelled headdress of ruby and sapphire when the morning sun struck its northeastern face. Each time he visited Thomas couldn't imagine a finer structure in the five kingdoms, despite the rooftop views gleaned of the Lower Manhattan cityscape with its buildings like needles threading into the sky.

Now at the front gateway to the holdfast there was unfolding a peculiar scene that made Father Thomas stop short just below the first step. Before him stood a rather large man of no more than twenty-odd years of age, bawling at the top of his lungs at two guards who appeared to detain him. The huge lad's powerful voice, slurring, betrayed his inebriation as he bellowed - "Let loose of me confounded wretches! Do you know who I am!?" When one of the guardsmen sought to strike at him with a billy club, the young man caught his wrist in one massive enveloping hand, and then grasping the guard by the belt with his other, hoisted the man into the air before throwing him toward the second guard. Thomas marveled at the drunken lout's prodigious strength even as he hurried past, making room as more guards sought to join the brawl.

Within the holdfast lobby Thomas approached the herald standing behind a countertop nestled in the far corner. The man was short and squat with bulbous uncouth features, and pale blue eyes that seemed to perpetually weep. "Welcome to Lady Corrinne Ellsworth's court; how may I be of service to you today?" Thomas greeted the man and declared that he had dire news regarding the Holy Citadel, and that he must have an immediate audience with the Lady Ellsworth.

"Very good sir, please have a seat." The herald wrote on a slip of paper as he spoke before handing the note to a runner who made to hurry up the ten flights of stairs to deliver the request. Upset at the delay but knowing that there was nothing to be done but to wait for a reply, Thomas moved across the lobby to take one of the many empty seats. Outside a thunderous crash announced that the one-man assault on the holdfast still ensued, and Thomas found himself wondering just who this young bruiser was and why he fought with such conviction. He returned to the front steps in time to see the lad finally subdued as a man held fast to each of his arms as two others drubbed him to his knees despite his deep ox-like lowing.

"What is the meaning of all of this?" Thomas asked after removing his duffel coat and revealing his clerical uniform. The guards paused in administering their beatings, but stayed firmly fast to the heaving man beneath them. The lad looked up at Thomas, revealing a proud, rugged face crimson with exertion, sweat darkening his blond matted hair. "This drunk fool swaggered up to the gate declaring himself to be a knight errant," one of the guards explained between deep breaths. "Said he'd come to find a lord worthy of serving," continued another. "He wanted to duel Lady Ellsworth herself to see if she 'could prove worthy enough to lead him!' "

It seemed that the young lad was full of more beer than brains but Thomas found himself admiring the lad's boldness all the same. With a smile, he said "Let him up, please I insist. Come, tell me your name, sir."

"They call me Young Garr," the man answered as he climbed to his feet, brushing himself off as he straightened his clothing. The guards stayed close as though ready to pounce should he seek to fight or flee, but the towering youth maintained his position. "If you are looking for someone to serve, you have come to the right place, Young Garr. I have a dangerous journey ahead of me that would put even your doggedness to the test, and will entail the protection of the very realm. What say you; will you serve me?"

"I will indeed," Young Garr laughed as he answered. "If you can best me that is!" he bellowed before charging straight up the steps toward the priest. What happens next between Thomas Knopf and Young Garr will be revealed in the next chapter.


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PostPosted: Mon Dec 08, 2014 12:35 am 
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Chapter Two: Our Heroes Set Forth


With the Father's assurances of assistance and swift departure, the Knight relaxed a little. The wound at her side throbbed and she was grateful for the stool that unburdened her unsteady feet. She closed her eyes, hoping that the room would cease its dizzying dance. Gaddiel's hand gentle pried hers from the stained bandages, reminding her of his presence. She immediately sat up straighter, eliciting a new wave of pain from her injury, so as not to show her weakness in front of the physician.
"I need to redress your wound," he said when the Knight started at his touch.
"I'm fine," she assured the physician.
"You've opened the stitches and, given the way that you're swaying in that stood, you've lost a lot of blood." Gaddiel pushed her hand away from the wound, brooking no more protests from his patient. He would be damned to the darkness of the Depths before he let someone under his care die from her own stubbornness. She relented, allowing him to fix the handiwork that she had ruined. As he mended the knight's wound he made a formal introduction of himself and the recently departed Father Knopf.
"I'm Gaddiel Joseph, physician of Bridge wardens of The Spanish Harlem. The Electrician was Father Knopf, our new abbot."
"I am Isabelle," replied the Knight. Gaddiel noticed the omission of her family name, and was aware enough to refrain from asking. Some pasts were best forgotten. Instead he asked a question that pressed at his thoughts since Isabelle recanted her tale.
"Why would the Electrician's Guild send one of their Knights Charger to King Barlow? Surely you would be most needed in defense of the Holy Citadel." Isabelle scowled as the needle met her skin once more.
"The Electrician's Guild''s decisions are none of your concern." The words ' Electrician's Guild" was inflected with a mocking tone. Gaddiel continued his work in silence.

Some minutes later the Knight was seen leaving the guard house, resting heavily against a crutch. In tow was the frantic physician, bombarding Isabelle with reasons to return to the guard house's medical wing. Ignoring his pleading, she demanded the whereabouts of Father Knopf from a passerby who babbled something about seeing him heading towards Lady Ellsworth's court. She continued in the direction given, making sure to keep the stitching intact. Gaddiel, realizing that she was not to be be deterred from her self destructive course, quickly commissioned an empty mule and cart from the guard house's deliverer of fresh produce.
"You are going to kill yourself before one of the Crabmen do!" shouted Gaddiel as he drew the cart to a halt next to the Knight. She took his offered hand and climbed into the cart.
"They've already failed at that," she grimaced as the pain reminded her of the last encounter with the feared Crabmen. The cart rolled down the road on its way to find the Father.

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That is not dead which can eternal lie
And with stranger aeons even death may die


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