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King Oroso

As the sun began it's slow ascent above the mountains to the east, King Oroso rose and dressed, eager to proceed with the day's agenda. Today was the day he would finally have a great weight lifted from his shoulders. As long as his daughter cooperated that was. He had explained to her over and over again that this was best for the kingdom, and he felt that she understood, to a point. It just seemed she was less than obliged to do what was needed, and more inclined to do what she wanted. The whole, "A monarch must put the needs of others before herself" speech was getting very old for both of them.

His morning deflection out of the way, King Oroso made his way down to the dining hall to meet his beloved daughter for breakfast, and to asses the mood she was in. He hoped she would be agreeable. He sat in his seat, ready to greet the princess when she arrived.

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Flynt Fletcher

Outside of the castle walls, the town was buzzing with excitement. The ceremony and tournament were the talk of the town. One could go scarcely three feet without hearing a blurb about it. That was fine for Flynt Fletcher, an up and coming knight with great aspirations. He was a local favorite from a province from the north, and when the opportunity to compete for the hand of a princess from the most successful and impressive kingdom in the land breezes by, you follow it.

So now he was standing outside the gates with the largest crowd he had ever seen, and the excitement was contagious. He noticed other men that had the same look as he did, other knights. He decided to pass the time and speak with the competition. Sauntering up to the nearest one, Flynt introduced himself, "Good day sir! Am I wrong to assume you are here to compete for the princess? My name is Flynt Fletcher, and I will also be competing in the tournament. Any tips you can give an inexperienced knight like me?" He asked with a charming and enthusiastic smile.

King Oroso

Oroso had run through the possible arguments his daughter may bring to the table, and he was sure he had a good response to all of them. He was expecting one of two things to happen. Either she would have a list of reasons why this was a pointless celebration and reasons not to marry which he would listen to patiently and give his sincerest apologies but insist upon having it anyway because that was just the way things were. OR, she would come in quietly and play the sad girl accepting her inevitable auction and imprisonment. It had been a long time since she used that routine, having been a favorite of hers when she was a child. It never worked on her mother though.

The king sighed. Her mother... His darling wife. It had been almost seven years since she passed away. Many a night he had lay awake in his enormous bed, feeling swamped by it. Smothered with the emptiness of the vast cushions and blankets, as if he lay in a sea of silk and fleece. He often wondered if he was raising his only daughter well. He was doing his best, that was certain, but was it enough? There were just some things a father could not provide, and he had to wonder if it had created this rift between them, or if it was an inevitable way of life for daughters to grow distant from their fathers.

His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the very person he was thinking about. "Ah, Gwen, my dove. Good morning! Sleep well... or at all?" He asked with a chuckle. His attempt at keeping breakfast lighthearted. He motioned for her to sit with one hand and for a servant to bring the sustenance with the other. "You look as beautiful as ever." She looked just like her mother.

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Flynt Fletcher

The other man's blatant disdain for him went either unnoticed or completely disregarded, for Flynt laughed cheerfully, "Haa, yes. That was a rather obvious question wasn't it. My apologies." He looked up at the impressive castle and the alarming amount of guardsmen on the turrets and allures, watching the crowd with varying expressions. Some looked bored, others almost as excited as the crowd. Some more! A few, seasoned guards Flynt presumed, looked serious and watchful. With a crowd like this, there were pickpockets and robbers about without a doubt. Flynt made sure his coinpurse was well out of reach of sticky fingers, tucking it snugly under his chain cuirass.

Returning his attention to the dark knight, who had yet to offer his own name, Flynt tried one more time for conversation. "This is actually my first time here, but you seem to be well experienced. How many of these occasions have you been to Sir...?" He trailed off, hoping the other man would supply a title.

King Oroso

Oroso's smile fell, as did the hopeful glint in his eyes at his daughter's response to his greeting. She was not going to make this easy. As if having to let his only daughter and sole companion in this giant, empty castle, be married and taken off to some other, foreign kingdom to better relations and gain land was all he had wanted all along. As if he didn't wish he also had a son that could carry that burden and give him a few more years with her before she found a man herself that she actually wanted to marry and leave him for. But that was not for her to worry about, and so he kept quiet.

"Gwenevere, please. I know I'm asking a lot, but it can wait no longer. We must proceed with this ceremony, or there may be irreparable damage done to out kingdom's standing and economy. If there was anything else I could to I would, but the fact remains that as my only heir, and that today you become an adult in they eyes of the kingdoms, you must be unveiled to the nobility as a candidate for marriage. We've gone through this all before, and being sharp is not going to make the day any easier for either of us." That hadn't really gone as he had hoped. Every time he ever tried to explain and possibly let her know how he felt about the situation, it always sounded as if he was only interested in the good of the kingdom and how other kingdoms looked at theirs. Arboron was great, he had made sure all of his father's and grandfather's work had been upheld and preserved. All he hoped was that Gwen would strive to do the same. He knew she knew the importance, but women at her age often overlooked reason and logic for romance and emotion.

The servants brought in the meal and placed the platters before the two royalty. Breakfast, which usually consisted of a simple porridge with bread and fruit, was substituted with a hearty pair of fried eggs with fresh honey glazed bread and the orange marmalade their cook was famous for. The servants left a pitcher of grape juice on the table, then scurried out of the dining hall to leave the father and daughter in privacy.

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Flynt Fletcher

Flynt had succeeded in obtaining the man's name, and where he hailed from. That was informative! The Southwestern Isles. If Flynt recalled correctly, the Isles had been ravaged by war recently. An internal affair that was kept pretty quiet, at least as quiet as a war could be kept. From what he heard, it was an uprising against an unworthy monarch. Now that a new ruler had been crowned, the fighting has stopped and the Isles were focused mainly on rebuilding themselves now. "Ah! The Isles of the Singing Rocks as the natives used to call it, am I correct? How are things there? I heard the borders have been reopened and trade is being encouraged. Winning the competition would definitely help the reconstruction efforts wouldn't it!"

Flynt looked over his opponent with a closer eye to detail. The Isles were harsh, which explained the attitude, but if his skills were anything like his temperament, Flynt would have to watch this one. The fighting styles of the Isles were a mystery to most, and so he would have to watch this Sir Blaylock with the other competitors. The man had a big reason to win the hand of the princess of such a powerful and wealthy kingdom. But then again, so had Flynt.

"I hail from the northern coastal Kingdom of Oceas." He told his new acquaintance. If the man knew anything about the kingdom, he would know that it's main trade was fish and ice, and that any mage worth his robe studied at the academy there. It was an extensive kingdom, but secluded, being cut off by an ocean to the northeast and mountains to the northwest, and all along it's southern border lay the forbidden forest and it's large mountain range. Indeed the trek to Oceas was a perilous one without the proper guide, and a long one. "Nice to know that I'm not the only fresh meat so to speak." he jived.

King Oroso

Well, that had done it. Gwen had shut herself up again. Oroso looked at his plate and wanted to slump, but that was no posture for a king. He held himself upright and began to eat his breakfast, the silence louder than anything he had ever heard. Even the chatter from the kitchen seemed to be muted by the thick, forced silence that was so prevalent in the air.

When the breakfast was finished, Oroso stood and pulled something out of his robe. It was a small, ornate box, ivory with golden inlay swirling delicately over the surface. "I know how hard it's been... with only me for company and advice, and after today you will no longer have even that." He came to stand by her, offering his hand to help her out of her seat.

"I wanted to give you something before we went out to start the ceremony." He held the box out to her. "Here." When she would open it, whenever she chose to, Gwen would find a silver and sapphire necklace that looked as if a wizard had captured a spiderweb of dew drops on a cold, winter morning and decided to make it last for all time. It had belonged to the queen, and had been her favorite piece of jewelry Oroso had ever given her. He still remembered the day he had presented it to her. It was a gift from him the day Gwenevere was born.

"Now, I suppose we should make out entrance." He led the way out of the hall and out towards the castle bailey, where the ceremony and tournament would commence.

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Flynt Fletcher

Flynt was a great contrast to Blaylock. Where the man was tanned and hard looking, dark in hair and clothing, Sir Fletcher was of a pale completion, with the sandiest of blonde hair and eyes bluer than the sky after a rain storm. Judging by the wispy length of his hair, one could guess that Flynt led a carefree lifestyle, without worry to formality. The tunic he wore under his chain mail complimented his eyes, as did the breeches he wore tucked into his comfortable leather boots. A cloak of a darker blue hung at his back, trimmed with silver embroidery of laurels and vines.

To the untrained eye, Flynt looked wiry and wispy, not much of a challenge. But that was how he liked it. His thin, slender frame made him agile and flexible. The thin sword at his waist was light weight but very sharp, perfect for swift and precise action. Also at his waist were a number of pouches and pockets of varying sizes and shapes, their contents unknowable. At last, hanging on his back over the cloak was a finely carved long bow and quiver half full of arrows fletched with song bird feathers of bright reds, blues and yellows.

When Mordecai mentioned confidence, Flynt laughed, "Yes well, that is part of the battle isn't it? Without confidence one would be easily thrown from battle don't you think?" Sure he was young, a mere twenty three years of age, but he was sure he would give anyone a good run for their coin.

Movement on the allures caught Flynt's eye and he pointed, "Look! I think they'll be letting us in soon! See how they're readying the portcullis? They'll be lifting it soon! Good luck to you Sir Blaylock! I hope not to meet you in competition. I fear I would loose!" The two were separated by the anxious crowd striving to be first to a good seat to watch the festivities.

King Oroso

As King Oroso neared the arched doorway that would show them out to the entrance courtyard and then out to the bailey, and the growing crowd beyond, he slowed to let Gwenevere catch up so that they would enter the scene together, side by side. As the two approached the ceremony grounds, a squad of guards descended from the walls to escort them to the dias where the crowd could see them without effort.

Upon the dias, two throne like chairs were placed under a shade for the two royalty to watch the competition. Before that could commence however, he had to make the traditional speech. Standing in full view of the growing crowd, he could scarcely hear himself think. That was easily remedied, and with a raise of his hand, it took no more than seven seconds for the crowd to become as quiet as if there was no one in the yard at all. When sure he had the attention of the whole bailey, King Oroso began,

"I would like to thank you all for your attendance on this memorial day. As you all know, this is the day my daughter, Princess Gwenevere, becomes a woman, and it is this fact that we are celebrating, and in celebration there will be a tournament. The overall winner of this tournament will be rewarded with the marriage of Princess Gwenevere, along with a sizable claim in my kingdom and the eventual succession of my throne and rule." This sent an excited murmur through the crowd, but it was quickly silenced when the king opened his mouth to speak again. "There are many competitions in this tournament. They are tests of the worthiness to run my kingdom in the eventual future." He took a breath to begin to explain what the tests were when he was interrupted by a sound unlike any he had ever heard in his life.

Shattering the air was a roar like tearing metal and banging gongs. The king looked skyward and froze at what he saw.

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Flynt Fletcher

Having been admitted into the bailey of the castle, Flynt found his place with the rest of the competitors and waited. The wait was not long, and soon the king was being escorted to the raised, wooden dias along with his daughter. Flynt laid eyes on her for the first time, and was immediately more driven to win. She looked so beautiful, but that was not all. She had a look about her that other princesses that he had seen lacked. She seemed more world weary, more reserved, and there was an intelligence about her as well. If there was one thing that interested Flynt, it was a mutual thirst for knowledge. He hoped she shared his.

As the king began the customary speech, Flynt diverted his attention to the middle aged man who controlled this impressive kingdom. The speech concluded and the outline of the tournament was beginning when an ear splitting noise came hurling at the crowd from above. Flynt, like so many others, looked up at the source and was shocked to see a great, white bird descending at almost a vertical angle towards them. As it came closer, Flynt identified the creature not as a bird, but as a mythical beast that had been thought extinct. A dragon, it's ivory scales blinding with reflected sunlight. It was head straight for them!

Dragon

Insects. That was what they all looked like. Little insects all crowded into a small, stone bowl. And what was a human to a dragon but an insect? A pest? Something to exterminate. This would be fun! With his giant jaws, the dragon produced another shattering roar as the bowl of insects came rushing at him. At the last moment, the dragon unfurled his mighty wings and thrust himself back up into the sky, flattening all underneath with the forceful wind his wings produced.

Banking for another go, the dragon got a better lay of the scene below him. He was after something in particular, though he reveled in the fear he saw in the eyes of the human pests. There was one thing he wanted by the end of this endeavor, and she was standing one a wooden platform. They practically served her up as though they were giving her to him. How nice of them.

As the enormous flying serpent came closer to the King and princess, the guards remembered their purpose and hastily readied their crossbows. One set let loose, sending a rain of arrows whistling through the air and straight at the dragon. A quick flap of his wings and he changed direction so that the arrows bombarded his thick, scaly back plates, doing no harm. Now he was headed for the castle. He swerved between towers and laded on the side of one of the steepled roofs. He let out a hiss, flicking his black, forked tongue out at the crowd. He did this not only to look menacing, but to taste the delicious fear that floated up to him from the sweat of the panicking crowd. They deserved this. Every last one of then, he thought as he took in a deep breath. With his exhale, fire sprayed out of his mouth and over the crowd. The heat would make them run, but he did not want to set anything on fire this time. The smoke would draw more attention and leave proof of his appearance. If all he did was scare some villagers and take a single princess, other kingdoms would be harder to convince of a dragon being the cause. Their numbers were not yet large enough to combat another massacre from the humans.

After his fire spit, while the chaos ensued through the crowd, the dragon leaped off of the castle and dove for the dias, his front claws outstretched and ready to pluck his prize out of their clutches. Another shower of arrows bounced and ricocheted off of his scales before he knocked the attackers to the ground, soaring over them and snatching the fear frozen female off of the wooden platter. With powerful wing beats he gained altitude quickly and was soon out of reach of the arrows. A single flash of light and a small, but sharp pain in his tail caught him as he made his escape. The dragon glanced behind him, but could not discern from where the magical attack came from. With a final roar he took off to the north east, over the forbidden forest and headed for the mountains beyond.

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King Oroso

King Oroso had tried his best to get his fear under control, but the white monster had petrified him. It wasn't until he saw the dragon heading for him and his daughter that he found the strength to move, but by then it was too late. He dove for Gwenevere as the dragon swooped in and wrapped his glistening claws around her, but he fell short and landed heavily on the wood. Reaching up, he cried out for her, but the beast was out of reach, and he could but watch as his only daughter, and last remaining member of his family, be carried away to her ensured demise. For everyone knew that dragons ate princesses.

There was silence in the yard, as everyone had either fled back to their homes, or stood now in disbelief of what had just happened. The whole, horrible affair had lasted only about a minute, but Oroso knew that this day would haunt him for the rest of his life. What could he do now? What could he do? Was it even worth doing anything anymore? How could he care to run a kingdom now? There was nothing in this world that would make it worth it to continue to live. His daughter was gone.

Oroso slowly pushed himself to his knees. The guards remembered themselves and came to help him up, but he would not accept any aid. He looked at the sky, then slowly at the bailey where the crowd had been. To one side, he spotted what remained of the knights, princes and heroes that had come to compete for his daughter. There were few, but some still remained. That was enough hope for Oroso. He got to his feet and shouted, unable to keep the desperate, choking sound out of his voice, "You! Listen all of you! Whomsoever rescued my daughter will have anything they ask of me that I can give. Bring me back my daughter! Bring me back the princess and the head of that monster and my kingdom is yours! My army! My treasury! All of it. Go! GO! Rescue the princess!"

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Flynt Fletcher

I missed! Flynt cursed himself. He had been thrown off guard by the appearance of the dragon that his attack, when he had finally regained his composure, barely nicked the beast's tail as it flew away with the princess. Now what was he to do? It would take him weeks, no, months to return to his kingdom and alert the university of the return of the dragons. For if there was one dragon, there were more. If he could find the right ingredients, he might be able to summon an image though water and relay a message that way, but he had yet to master communication spells. There would be no way he could reach the seers from this distance.

As he pondered and fretted, he glanced at the king. The poor man was on his knees staring after his daughter. This day had not turned out like anyone had thought it would. And glance around the bailey showed that his new acquaintance was still here as well. He was about to go to the man and possibly find out if he knew anything about dragons, or if he knew of a ship that could take him back to Oceas, as the sea would be the fastest way to get home, but the king was suddenly on his feet and shouting at them. Flynt stopped his advance and listened. Now there was something to think about. But who would be foolish enough to go after a dragon?

Not alone... but maybe as a team. How would that work for the reward though... Hmm, it was definitely something to think about. Flynt stepped away when the king finished his desperate plea and watched the meager gathering of knights and princes. Would any of them actually go for it?

Flynt Fletcher

Flynt watched the king as the older man waited for any sign of hope that his daughter might still be saved. Everyone was hesitant, even Flynt was hesitant, but something about the look in King Oroso's face tugged at his heartstrings. With a sigh, Flynt stepped forward, unsheathed his sword and placing the tip in the trampled dirt he knelt, "I will endeavor to go after the dragon and free the princess from it's deadly clutches." He announced, trying to sound a formal as he had read heroes were supposed to sound. When the king bade him to, he stood and introduced himself, "I am Flynt Fletcher of Oceas, Your Highness. I shall ride out this day if it pleases." The king nodded, but he suddenly seemed so frail, Flynt said no more. He watched as the guards helped him down from the dias and back to the castle.

Flynt turned and faced the remaining competitors, searching their faces for any hint that one may wish to accompany him, but he did not search long. It was a fool's errand, and they all knew it. Flynt was a young and inexperienced. If the road got too difficult, no one would think twice about his never returning. They would simply assume he had gotten killed out in the forbidden forest. Flynt needn't go at all really, and the king could still cling to hope for a little while. That was a mercy wasn't it?

As Flynt left the field he wondered to himself, debating on whether he should just go home or actually try and rescue the princess. It was not an easy decision.

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Dragon

Now, far enough away to feel safe from any magic casters and their foolishness, the dragon slowed his pace to a more relaxing coast, letting the thermals keep him aloft and stoking his wings every now and then to keep the forward motion. Craning his scaly white neck. the dragon inspected his prize and was surprised to see that she was conscious but not fighting him. He had been under the impression that when one captured a princess they either fainted dead away or they screamed and thrashed the whole way back. This one did neither. He pulled her closer to get a better look at her. His eye was about the size of her head, a bit bigger perhaps, and it's pupil was like a cat's, narrow and slit. Along his jaw were thumb sized spiked and a few of his teeth stuck out of his lips as though his mouth was not big enough to fit all of them inside. At the tip of his nose rose one knife sized horn. The whole of his head seemed about the size of large sheep. Certainly capable of swallowing one while.

"Hmmm... Perhaps this one is simple..." The dragon mused to himself in a deep voice like the low notes of a cello, and just as musical. "I would pick a simple princess." he grumbled and returned to watch where he was flying.