The adventure begins…..

“Whatever possessed the King to send along non-combatants on this mission?” he growled. Frustrated, his mailed fist struck the trunk of the tree in a shower of the peculiar bark of this southern tree. Hearing a muffled sound, he spotted a furtive movement out of the corner of his eye. One of the Littles in the caravan had been watching him and scampered off at his display of temper. He sighed. The story would be all over camp that evening of how His Lordship had been punching trees, again.

Thinking back, he thought his mission was going to be simple. The King had pulled him aside after Court one evening, “I have a delicate mission and I need someone I can trust.” At first he had been thrilled to have a quest; things had been entirely too quiet lately and each tournament seemed just like the other. He was glad for the strong arms and fighting spirits of the fighters that had been assigned to him. Surely their prowess with sword, both heavy and rapier, would be useful in these back lands! But the inclusion of artisans, bards, cooks, and children were a puzzle to him. It did not make him feel any easier when the King hadn’t been able to explain either, beyond that the Queen had a vision, that they would be critical to the success of this mission.

After many years of sad neglect, this portion of the Kingdom had failed to send in tithes and communication had been dismal or lacking entirely. The King had taken a personal interest in seeing that this southernmost branch of the Kingdom of An Tir be brought back into the fold. No longer would this lack of respect be tolerated and someone would have to answer to the King! His quest was going to be challenging enough, traveling through the admittedly beautiful but rugged countryside, encountering who-knew- what barriers, finding those responsible, and bringing them back to the King. 

Myrtle Holt, so the tales said, had been charged with a mysterious task, after successfully repulsing a particularly fierce attack from the Kingdom to the South. Raiders had broached the borders and gained access to an enormous cave upon the lands of Myrtle Holt and what transpired thereafter was a bit of a mystery to anyone but their Majesties. When pressed, the King remained tight-lipped. He revealed that what transpired was a matter for Kings and involved a great deal of secrecy but all knowledge had been lost after being passed from King to King. He was charged, too, with finding out the real story and determine if this Shire still held to the old charge of defending those southernmost lands. Yes, this was going to be a difficult task and their Majesties trusted him to bring this to a successful conclusion.

He sighed. Putting the Little out of his mind, he started back to camp, signaling to the sentries as he did so to pack up and return as well. They’d need some extra time for the non-fighters to get their belongings together and get back on the trail the scouts had found yesterday. As he rounded the large tree that marked the edge of their campsite, he was surprised to find that everyone had already packed up and looked at him expectantly as he entered the clearing. Pleasantly gratified, he gave the signal to mount up and move out. “Perhaps,” he thought to himself, “this won’t be so bad after all.”

 

Check back often and follow the path of our next heroes of ARC – will you be one of them?

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