Adventure #02 - Foreign Fancies

Of course, Old Friend ? come. Perhaps you will make a far better Diplomat than I?. With that they departed for The Kings impromptu ?Chamber?.?

The two noted the somewhat formidable Santiago Guards stationed at the door leading to The Kings Room. They instantly cane to attention ?and ?saluted? in The Spanish fashion. As they were expected, the two Knights opened the door. Goodman and Loring entered the inner Chamber. Bowing suitably in fashion, Goodman said, ?Thank you for seeing us Your Highness. We come to you to grant us favor?. Goodman paused and glanced at Loring. ?We have a?.problem.?

The King of Aragon was an experienced ruler and he knew only too well that if someone politely told him that ?We have a?.problem?, then the situation was very serious indeed.

When Sir Loring saw him straighten his back and tense his muscles, he quickly took up the speach:

"Your Highness, first of all things let me tell you that your daughter is safe and not in any danger."

That information seemed to relax the king and now he leaned back in his seat and turned to the two knight: "So what is it? Speak."

Now brother Goodman and Sir Loring took turns to explain to him what had happened.

Finally they concluded: "Now, Your Highness, will you grant us the support of your royal knights? And do you have any orders on how to proceed in this matter? Or on whom do you want to bestow the responsibility and authority to act in the rescue of our Duke?"

They bowed and waited in anticipation on what help or guidance the King of Aragon may give them in their new adventure.

The King waited for a moment, clearly lost in thought of what to do. He then suddenly spoke.

"I'd like to ask both of you to do this task. I'll provide you with four platoons of my best troops to try and rescue the Duke. This is a sizable amount but the Duke's safety is much more important than having good men standing idle around me."

?With much thanks, Your Highness? Goodman said as he and Sir Loring Bowed deeply. ?We will endeavor to rescue The Duke and bring his Captors to your good justice?. With that, the two departed the King?s Chamber. One of Goodman?s Aides stood by in the Hallway.

?Detail 50 Men to remain in The Shire. I will take 150 well armed lads and mounts. With the 200 given by The King, we will have 350. I know of a Baron in the nearby Town of Stropshire who owes me a favor. I can count on another 200. With 550, what can you muster Loring??

Charles Loring looked a bit sheepish at his friend.

"Well, I am a knight on my estate, as you know. And of course it is my duty to maintain a force for my lands protection. But to be honest, I have been neglecting this duty somewhat. With the ongoing peace, I found hunting, feasting and educating the young citizens more interesting than raising troops and training soldiers.

I could probably put together one mixed platon of 20 swordmen and 30 archers. That would raise our numbers to 600 men.

I can add the service of my rangers, though. 4 of my best foresters are already on their way to us and their skill in tracking and scouting should prove valuable to allow our army to move quickly through the terrain and spot our enemies before they spot us."

The Staging Area near the Northern portion of The Shire was filled with a collage of colors. Sunlight glinted off Armor, Pole Arm and Blade alike, giving an almost surreal look to the Woods of The Shire. Goodman stared at The Santiago Knights. The King's Son Commanded them. Each Man looked well equipped and trained. They all no doubt earned their place in their Order. Goodman remembered his experience in his ?Order?. In fact, the Tailors of The Shire had done an excellent job in ?tatting? his battle worn Templar Tunic, making is almost new. The Santiago Knights too stared with respect at the one-time "Order of Solomon" Knight.

Goodman surveyed his own Men. Battle tested and tried, he had no allusion that they would do him proud in battle. A slight glance to the right, and Goodman saw Sir Loring and his Archers. If they were half as trained as Loring himself, then Duke Renault would rule the day he had abducted Duke Christopher.

Goodman was less than at ease with his Conscripts from Baron Harkonan. Goodman had suppressed a "spurt" of Banditry several months back for The Baron. Grateful, he owed him this ?favor?. Goodman nicknamed them ?The Crows?. Goodman put his trusted Senior Aide in direct Command.

Goodman turned to see all of his Commanders gathered in front of his Tent. It was time. ?My Lords, Our Mission is simple. We march on The Keep of Duke Renault through hostile Territory. We will rescue Duke Christopher and bring Renault to The Kings justice?. Goodman paused. ?As I speak, Sir Loring?s Rangers are Scouting a path for us. And remember? ? Goodman said in after thought, ?Try NOT to get killed?. All laughed.

?Within the hour then. God Save Duke Christopher!? All cheered loudly. A Messenger standing next to Goodman heard the whispered response from his Lord. ?And God Save us as well!?

Goodman and his commanders now entered the tent to discuss their strategy in more detail.

After a while, the flap of the tent opened and a rather wild looking man entered. He wore an old leather tunic, had a big sword and a long knife tucked in his belt and a heavy leather sack in his hand. But most remakedly, whith a fur hat on his head, bronze coloured skin and slightly slit eyes he looked like a warrior from the army of Ghengis Khan.

The knights reached for their swords, but Charles Loring stood up and calmed them down. "No worries my friends. This is Kobla Cha, one of my rangers. He may look like a Mongol warrior, and in fact he was born as such, but he has lived more than 20 years in the service of my family and knows the English forests like no other man. What news do you bring, Kobla?"

The man responded with a short bow, polite but not submissive.

"Lordship, we have scouted the path to Duke Renault's keep. Like any prudent lord, Duke Renault has his own network of scouts around his castle. The weakest spot of this network is on the West side. That area is guarded by only 3 scouts - or rather - was guarded".

With an evil grin, the scout dropped the leather bag and three heads rolled onto the floor.

"Forgive my man's manners" Sir Loring said with a slight grin. "After all those years at our court, he still maintains some of his original customs."

To his great satisfaction he had noticed that, while several men had gasped at the sight of the gory heads, the King's son had not blinked an eye. It seemed that the young leader of the Santiago Knights had enough backbone for the job.

"Gentlemen, if my reckoning does not decieve me, we have about 8 hours before Duke Renault becomes aware of his missing scouts and we need 6 hours to march our army to the West side of his castle. That would give us about 2 hours of time to take up our position unnoticed and perhaps perform some surprise action. Let's go, we have no time to waste."

After some time marching, they came to a forest. A long, wide path with a fairly open forest, this did not seem too much of a problem other than the line size extended slightly in order to accommodate all troops getting through. They walked through the forest for a while but eventually came to a crossroads. Straight ahead would take them past a sizeable Garrison containing several buildings. Although well camouflaged, it could be seen from this far away and posed a serious risk to their strategy. No matter how strong in number they were, they could not get past without being seen, and to risk open combat was a fatal error in this environment.

Not because of ambush, but because it would be very easy for enemy troops to sneak away and warn the Castle of the oncoming attack. Without being sure how many troops were even there, although it could be lightly defended, this could be a disastrous move which could end the entire mission in failure. They did not even know how any additional outputs existed in their path before even getting to the end of this forest.

The adventurers were shocked. Goodman did not remember this checkpoint being here, although it was a long time since he was in this forest. The only alternative was a 50 mile detour, taking the group through Barnemouth, the infamous 'City of Death'. Then afterwards, a trip through Myhegh Forest to the Mines of Xilious. The group hesitated - this was not a move which they wanted to make.

But their hesitation was shirt lived, as in the distance, the sound of a carter could be heard. Looking through some nearby trees, Goodman could tell that it was approaching the checkpoint. He kept very close attention to the guards to see how quickly it was spotted. Although this was approaching from a different direction, north eastwards, it would give Goodman an idea of how quickly the guards would spot the adventurers. It very quickly became evident that the guards in one of the larger wooden towers spotted the carter very quickly, even though they were not really paying attention at first. They then signalled to more guards who then came from behind the checkpoint. No longer this seemed liked only a checkpoint but much more of an outpost. Who had built this, and for what purpose. Were they friends or foes?

Their questions were very quickly answered when the carter was eventually approached by some troops on the ground. "By the order of his grace, Duke Renault, who is in control of these lands, we demand to know at once what your business is." the Senior of the guardsman exclaimed. Several guards nearby held Pikes and were very well armoured. They must have been guarding something extremely important - although this was one of the central routes into the castle, however rural it was at this point on the track.

"I am here to deliver some goods to the Duke" replied the Carter. "What identification do you have?" snapped the guard, replying immediately. "I have here, a document of authorisation from the Duke's Constable." One of the Senior guards took it and began to examine it. He looked closely for a few moments, before sharply dropping the parchment and pointing to the Carter. "This document is a fake! Guards, arrest this man at once!"

The poor carter was immediately dragged away with a shocked expression on his face. Other guards attended to his cart, quickly taking it past the nearby tower for examination. "Take him away to Warington Citadel!" ordered the Senior guard. He had the appearance of a Constable and looked like nobility of some kind.

Goodman sat thinking for a moment. He had never heard of Warington Citadel, but assumed it must be close by. Probably through the checkpoint. And maybe the Carter knew something too about what was going on. But he did know someone who would know what it is, along with the significance and history of it. That person lived in Barnemouth, which made a detour look even more likely. One thing was for certain. They could not get through this checkpoint through disguise, and fighting was not an option. Besides this, there could be layer upon layer of security past this checkpoint, all which was unknown ....

Sir Loring turned to Brother Goodman:

"This outpost must have been manned withing the last few hours, otherwise my scouts would have reported this obstacle.

There is certainly a lot of new activity form our enemies along this road - and there must be a reason for it.

But for now, I think our best option is indeed to make the detour to Barnemouth.

What do you think, Brother Goodman? Shall we give the signal to move in that new direction?"

Brother Goodman surveyed the faces of The Conmanders. ?Well Gentleman, let?s be about it. But first, my Plan".Goodman placed a cloth on the table. Being White, it would be perfect. Reaching for a cooled piece of burned wood with which to draw, he traced a rudimentary set of Woods with a primary Road thru it. In the center of the ?Road?, a Letter ?S? (for Sentry).

?I wish to send an equal portion of Soldiers back along The Road, 2-miles. They will be concealed. An equal contingent will March East and West, occupying similar positions there. Finally?.? Goodman glanced over at The Spanish Prince, ?If Your Highness will position your Knights thus..? Goodman drew a long sweeping Line on The Map West, then North. ?You and your Knights will move West then North. Thus positioned, we will create cover on all sides of the Woods. If you do not hear from me for 3 days hence, all Forces will converge to the Center, driving all before you?.

Goodman turned to Sir Loring. ?You and I, Old Friend will take 10 of our best. We will ?costume up? again, as we did so long ago?. Goodman chuckled as he remembered the day. ?We will either be accepted as Merchants or taken Prisoner. Either way, we will make entry into Renault?s Keep. Should all fail, our Forces will begin their movements. Renault will have to deal with them, or ??..? Goodman paused, ?Spain, should anything befall our young Prince?.

Charles Loring smiled inwardly.

If there was something you could relay on, it was that Brother Goodman would always choose a path that involved going forward rather than going around a problem. The years of battle must have tought him that it was always an advantage to be the one who has the initiative of attack.

He went to his tent and changed the expensive nobelman's tunic for the brown woollen shirt of a simple huntsman. After a few more changes to his outfit concerning boots, pants and headwear he now fullly looked the part.

He was wondering what "costume" his friend would choose.

Suddenly Charles Loring remembered that they were supposed to dress up as merchants

"Ok, well, we can still get that story right. You men, load up this pack horse with these furs and dried meat.

We are hunters in the hope to turn our furs into silver coins and we are accompanying "Merchant Goodman" to the market - whatever it is that he is trying to sell :D"

They disguised themselves and started moving in the direction of the checkpoint, along with the cart. Not only was this a good way to try to get past, but also a clear way of testing just how far they could be seen from the direction of the troops. Almost immediately the guards from the lookout tower noticed them and signalled down to the guards below to move forwards to stop Goodman and Loring.

The two of them slowly moved further forward - consistently looking down at the ground and avoiding eye contact - until eventually they were abruptly brought to a halt by a sharp command. "Halt! By order of his grace, Duke Renault, we demand to know what you are doing in these lands." the voice commanded. There were several guards with Pikes nearby, and they looked very tense, ready to quickly act if need be. This convinced Goodman of one thing - this was not a group of rookie troops; they were clearly very experienced in such matters and should be treated as such. "We're here to provide some goods to the Duke m'lord" said Goodman.

"What goods" snapped the Constable, a look of direct suspicion on his face. He walked over to the cart and moved several items with his hand, all the time keeping a constant and uncomfortable stare at the two of them. Goodman could tell he was becoming more suspicious by the moment and once again shifted his line of sight to the ground. "Nothing but humble Merchants, m'lord" Goodman added, hoping his intervention would not hinder them at all. For a moment the Constable moved away from the Cart, looking like his suspicions had been dissuaded. "Very well." added the Constable, placing his sword back into his scabbard. The Pikemen moved towards each side of the path, and Goodman and Loring quickly moved forwards a few feet with their cart. They needed to get out of there as soon as possible.

But just as Goodman was giving a quiet sigh of relief, the Constable spoke up again in his usual authoritarian tone of voice. He had kept a steady gaze upon them since they first started moving. "Hey you, hold up a moment." AT the sound of his voice, Goodman and Loring immediately stopped pulling their cart and turned around. "You're one of Duke Christopher's bodyguards, aren't you?" Goodman knew that the situation had now gone from bad to worse. "No good lord, just a humble Merchant" Goodman once again muttered. This time the Constable was not fooled so easily. "Not so fast" he added. "Guards, arrest these men!" The nearby Pikemen moved in and searched both Goodman and Loring, immediately confiscating their weapons. Goodman allowed them, knowing that he needed to get into the Castle alive. "So .... you're merely 'humble merchants' are you?" laughed the Constable. "Nothing of the sort! Bring out the chains immediately!" two or three nearby guards moved off for a moment along with the Constable. Two Pikemen kept a close watch on both Loring and Goodman, but several others stood around in a group having a conversation - falsely believing the situation was under control.

Goodman knew this was his chance to cause as much disruption as possible, and whispered to Loring some final instructions, including to remain where he was and allow himself to be arrested - Goodman would return in good time and in force, to save Loring. But this was his chance, and he took it with open arms. Two guards returned with two sets of chains, and the Constable was behind them. But they were still several hundred feet away, so Goodman made his move. He stood up, and moved towards the left of the path. Taking a final glance to the right, he jumped into the bushes and ran for his life. The noise immediately was noticed by the nearby guards, and the Constable. "Hey! Get after him!" yelled the Constable. A few startled guards who were in conversation suddenly grabbed their weapons and ran into the trees, but in midst of the chaos it was very disorganised. "Get him in chains, immediately!" yelled the Constable, before running off into the Trees after Goodman. a few moments later the sound of a large horn could be heard from the lookout tower and within 30 seconds a platoon of Archers had arrived at the scene along with another officer for them.

He strolled up and down the lines, while they were preparing to fire. Loring watched with a mixture of amazement and shock - if they open fired as they looked like they were about to, they could even risk killing their own troops in their desperation to apparently kill Goodman. It was too late for Loring to do anything however, as a guard finally arrived and chained his hands. He was kept nearby and guarded in force while this demonstration continued.

"Ready ... and ...... fire!!" yelled the Archer group's commander. The sounds of many arrows could be heard whistling through the trees in the general direction of Goodman. Round after round was fired, until eventually the Archers paused for a moment. It was at this point Loring was taken away up the path further past the checkpoint by a small platoon of 16 Pikemen.

Meanwhile Goodman was running for his life in the trees. He could hear the sound of Pikemen running behind him, but due to the dense undergrowth of the forest, and the thick, unsightly trees, it was almost impossible to see in front of his face, and the same for those troops. Still, he kept running, knowing that he had caused major disruption and problems. All of a sudden a large flurry of arrows came whooshing through the trees, landing all around Goodman. He hunched down, but kept on running, trying to avoid them at all cost. He knew that he had a physical advantage over the soldiers in that they carried many weapons and he did not, only lightly dressed.

After a while, he stumbled upon a clearing with a well hidden cave and a small river nearby. He took refuge in there for a quick breather - hoping to avoid the detection of any potential troops nearby. They were now only a few minutes behind him, but this should give him enough chance to regain his breath and start running again. He had no idea where he was in the forest now, but this was the least of his worries. He regained his breath and was about to move out of the cave when he heard several shouts "Is he over there!?" Negative, still searching!" He heard the voice of the Constable yelling more orders "You lot, get over there and search that part of the forest - he must be found!" A small group of what sounded like 10 or so soldiers started marching at a jog in Goodman's direction, he immediately stopped peeking outside of the cave and quietly returned inside for a moment.

They stopped and started slowly walking around the clearing. From his position Goodman could see that there were 6-8 of them, all with long Pikes again. They spread around the clearing for a moment, the senior of them bending down examining the soil looking for potential tracks. Another of them moved towards the cave. He paused for a moment, and stared right at its concealed entrance, though clearly didn't notice it. He slowly moved around the front for a moment, and then paused. Goodman held his breath, knowing that it was a very tense moment. But before anything could happen, another yell could be heard from the soldier analysing the tracks. "This way!" he shouted, pointing in a completely different direction of the forest. All the soldiers ran off in that direction, leaving Goodman safely inside his Cave. The shouts, footsteps and clinking of armour slowly became more and more distant. He waited for few moments, and then peeked out of the cave. Everything seemed clear. Goodman heaved a sigh of relief - it appeared he was safe, for now ......

No more than an hour had passed since Goodman's chase. Surely the guards would have halted their search by now. Goodman felt ready to move once more. Heavy rain could be heard pounding against the stones and leaves, as well as howling wind, one which would no doubt keep the superstitious indoors. Goodman pondered his next move. For certain, he needed a plan to rescue Loring, for it was unclear of his fate. The guards were undoubtedly embarrassed by Goodman's escape, and Goodman feared it would be taken out on Loring. He needed to think fast, and act faster.

Goodman saw the muffling sounds as a great opportunity to leave unseen, and if it were not for a new sound, he surely would have done so. Chain mail and muddy footsteps became more and more apparent, soon followed by shouting. It was impossible to understand all that was said, but no doubt, somebody was fleeing. Moments later, a figure ran straight at Goodman, knocking him back into the cave. The figure covered Goodman's mouth, as he put his finger to his own lips, to tell Goodman to remain silent. The fleet of chain mail soon passed as quick as they came. The figure removed his hand from Goodman, then fell back against the wall of the cave, letting out a sigh.

"Thank you, stranger" he panted. Laying his head back and looking up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Goodman, who now regained a grasp on the situation, finally had a better look at the figure. Clearly male from his voice. He wore loose fitting clothing, a cheap material, now soaked by the rain. He seemed unarmed, yet he was gripping a leather sack tightly in his right hand.?

Goodman though to himself as he eyed this Stranger. Unsure of his intentions, it was clear he was an Ally ?(least he would well be in custody of Renault?s Guards).?

Goodman had no idea of his location. He did know that within 40-odd minutes, his ?Armies? would follow Orders and begin their advance. And another thing bothered Goodman. ?Where? was Sir Loring and ?what m? was his condition?

Goodman spoke. ?Much thanks, Stranger. I and my fellow Merchants were accosted by Duke Renault?s Guards. We were trying to procure business and they thought us Brigands or worse?. Goodman prudently with else the true purpose of his ?chase? until he was sure of his Rescuer. Time was foremost in Goodman?s mind right now.

The figure stood up, "I'm Geralt," the stranger shook Goodman's hand, "Geralt Cynan." Geralt opened the leather sack, pulling a few gold coins out of it, he handed them to Goodman. Goodman, looking at Geralt with confusion, did not take the gold. Before Goodman could speak, Geralt continued, "Allow me to assist you...Renault has something of mine, which I would very much like back..."

Goodman pondered the Stranger. His name was Welsh. ?Good Fighters, The Welsh?, Goodman though to himself. Still, he would keep his true goal to himself for now.

?How is it you are acquainted with Renault?? Goodman push the bag of Gold away gently, so as not to give offense. Goodman continued. ?You saved my life. Consider that payment enough. You stated Renault has something of yours. He also has something of mine now, namely my friend Sir Loring?.?

Goodman again paused to let his words draw any hint of emotion or ?tell?.?

Geralt stood up, looking out at the rain, then back to Goodman, "Perhaps another time" he replied dismissively. Goodman maintained eye-contact, suggesting his want for Geralt to tell. Geralt sat back down on the cold stone, placing the leather sack beside him.?

"Very well...whatever it is they call you," Geralt began. "Allow me to explain. For the past years, I have been surviving off mercenary work..." He noticed Goodman became uneasy hearing these words. "Fear not, I chose my contracts personally, and only completed the contract once enough information was presented. It was all going well. I was making good money, for simple tasks, didn't need kill one man. However, this soon changed, after a certain contract, with a value not even the richest could decline, became known to me. Duke Renault was to pay a great sum to whomever would ruin the crops of a large village far from those he profited from. I admit with regret that I accepted the contract. Yet, there was a catch, he took a belonging of mine as debt, if I failed the contract, he would keep my belonging."

Goodman waited for more to be told, but after waiting a few more seconds, he spoke, "I assume you failed the mission?"?

"In its simplest terms, yes, however, I chose to fail. Once I arrived at the village...the sights I saw...soldiers pillaging, mocking, simply fear-mongering..." Geralt paused, his eyes met Goodman's, who was listening carefully. "I did what any good man would do...I fought back. I seized a weapon from a soldier I kicked to the ground, causing uproar. I admit, I bit off more than I could chew. I wounded two, then ran...My hatred for Renault not only lies with him taking my beloved sword, but for hurting the lives of innocents."

The two sat in silence. Goodman, visibly in shock of what he had heard, stared into the distance. His thoughts were interrupted as Geralt questioned, "You mentioned a friend of yours was taken by Renault. Was he killed?"

Meanwhile at the camp of Duke Renault's men, Charles Loring was still very much alive, albeit somewhat immobilized.

"Well", he thought to himself, "I guess my hands are tied - and quite literally so". He looked down at the heavy chains that bound his hands together and then wound around a big tree. "There is no way I can escape - but maybe there is something else I can do."

"Hello soldier", he shouted over to one of the guards.

"Don't be a mean man. You have tied me here to this tree. But I am right in the thick of these thorns and thistles. If you leave me ere, I won't be able to get a single hour of sleep this night. Why don't you move me over to that tree over there. And don't worry, I will not do anything stupid. I just want to get a bit more comfortable."

The soldier did not seem to be a bad man, even if we worked fro the wrong lord.

He moved Sir Loring over to the new place, taking good care that his hands remained chained and there was no opportunity to escape. Then he made sure that his captive was securely tied to the new tree.

The one thing he had not payed attention to, was the fact that this new position was right behind the commander's tent.

Charles Loring made himself comfortable on the ground, bringing his head close to the think canvas.

"With some luck, I may be able to overhear the commanders conversation and learn something useful", he thought.

But before he could hear anything, a sound of armour clinking could be heard from just around the corner of the Commander's Tent. It sounded like a small group of soldiers, and he could hear the voice of the old officer from the checkpoint.

The officer walked around the corner with his left hand on the top of the handle on his sword, placed firmly in his scabbard, the right hanging by his side as he walked slowly, his head in a slightly lowered position towards the ground. He was in the process of talking to a very small group of soldiers around him. It was now dusk and it was apparent that they were leaving their shift.

It appeared unknown whether there would be less guards on the night shift or more, and Sir Loring pondered over this for a moment. But it wasn't long before the group came around the corner, still walking slowly, before having their attention caught by Loring. They hadn't expected him to be tied to the Tree he was tied to, and it came as a surprise. The group stopped all of a sudden when they reached him. "Who moved him there?" asked the Commander to two nearby guards. They both stared at each other blankly for a moment before the officer quickly spoke up. "Well don't just stand there, find out!"

The two of them ran off in opposite directions and the escort remained guarding Sir Loring. While waiting however, they remained fairly silent. Loring could tell there was some form of meeting ongoing in the Commander's Tent and strained to hear it. With the wind whistling through the trees it was very difficult. After a few seconds, he heard a voice "My Lords, we cannot allow this to happen. I propose that we station a force in the Mines of Xilious to deter any such invasion. It is of crucial ...." before Loring could hear any more the guards returned, along with the soldier who had moved Loring. The officer then questioned the solider "Are you responsible for this?" he snapped. The soldier looked down at the ground, clearly ashamed. "Yes sir." he muttered. The officer then relieved him of his duty and sent him back to the camp to be disciplined.

He then turned to Sir Loring and pointed towards him. "Bring him with us" he commanded to a guard. "Clearly he is too dangerous to be left here."

A nearby guard unchained Loring from the tree, though kept him chained. He had tight hold of the chains and moved him along with the group who continued along the path. Sir Loring had no idea where this was taking him, but knew he was not staying part of the camp - for some reason. They quickly moved out of the camp and up a winding, narrow path. All sounds ceased from the camp, and natural wildlife could be heard. They kept moving through the path, and came across a small stream with a wooden bridge over it. All the time, security was becoming more and more heavy, but managed to pass through without being challenged due to the officer's status.

The bridge was only small enough for people, so Sir Loring quickly determined that there must be another way to wherever they were heading. After crossing the bridge they continued through the forest until they came to what appeared to be a large stone wall where the path suddenly ended against it. There was a very small path which continued around the right of the building. Loring was confused, there was nowhere to go any further yet they continued in the direction of the solid stone wall. It suddenly became quite dark, and it started to rain, slowly becoming heavier - and to make matters worse, they could tell a lightning storm was on the way as well.

After reaching the wall, they stopped for a moment. One of the soldiers tapped twice with his Pike on the wall. After a few seconds, a heavy grinding sound could be heard, and a few seconds later a double door opened outwards out of the rock in front of them, heavily guarded in the inside. They trooped inside along with Loring. It would have been dark inside as well, if not for the steady lining of wall torches, approximately halfway up both the left and right walls, all the way along to the end.

The floor was a sandy coloured marble surface, very smooth. In the centre of the room a large crest in a circle was emblazoned on the floor, before a small set of steps upwards and a set of arched wooden doors at the end of the room.

Once inside, Loring took a moment to admire the marvellous construction, slightly taken back. But it was not a moment later that the same grinding sound of stone could be heard once again with the outside doors shutting. It was very cleverly camouflaged from the outside, almost impossible to see. Loring watched as several soldiers powered the door in the same way a Portcullis was opened and closed - an intriguing invention. The officer disappeared for several minutes and then returned, holding an Iron key. With not a moment to lose, his chains were quickly tugged by a solider and he was moved on towards the stairwell. But they instead moved to a smaller wooden door to the right of the stairs against the back wall, rather than heading . The door was opened, and they moved down a spiral staircase to a lower level of the castle. They could have ventured further down, but the officer had clearly decided that this was far enough for some reason. They headed towards an Iron door, which was firmly locked. The officer unlocked the door and then the group trailed through, before locking the door behind them. They then proceeded around the corner, headed through another set of doors before stumbling into what appeared to be a block of empty prison cells. Each one contained a locked iron door with a set of keys at the end of the hall hanging up.

Loring was taken past several used cells and then a cell in front of him was unlocked. He was unchained and pushed in, before the door promptly being locked again. The guards then disappeared and a few seconds later he was left in silence. He stood up and looked around his cell. It was very cramped, only 10ft squared. It contained a small wooden table & chair, a low bed and hay and straw on the floor. A small wall torch lit up the room next to the table, but other than this there was very little.

Meanwhile, back in the forest, Goodman and Geralt could hear the Thunder outside the cave. This was not a very nice time to be in that position, but there was very little they could do but take shelter. Goodman thought for a moment, about how best to reply to Geralt ....

Goodman spoke after the last crackle of thunder. "Well my Friend, perhaps I can be of some help in your Quest. If you can help me to reach some fellow Merchants nearby in these Barrens, we could achieve both out ends". Goodman was aware that even now his Forces were preparing to converge. At some point, "they" would run into either Renault or he and his new Companion.

Meanwhile, the last of The Couriers rode from the Spanish Prince and his Forces in The North. The Prince gave several orders and instantly his Knights arrayed themselves in precise Formation. With the cry of "Alalante!", The Formation moved into the woods.

The same was happening at all other points with Goodman?s Forces. His nervous Aide showed no anxiety to the fact that he had no ideal as you his Masters fate. Regardless, he followed orders. Raising his Sword, he cried "Forward!" The Force moved into the dark and unsure Woods.

Geralt stood up upon hearing the cries, "It seems that fate has decided we help one another" he spoke with an eager tone. Reaching at his scabbard, he noticed his sword was missing. Now embarrassed, he looked to Goodman, then in a quick change of tone explained, "I must have lost it during the chase...Never mind! It doesn't sound like we have much time to waste." Geralt was right, as during the conversation, Goodman's men had quickly advanced to their set targets, with what sounded like little resistance.?

Goodman peered out if the Cave, just as a volleyball of Arrows sailed past . The sounds of a Skirmish was in play. Leading Geralt low, the two moved towards a better vantage point. Best not to reveal to much of their presence just yet. Besides, they were weaponless.

Goodman saw several dead men on the ground nearby. Several carried Swords. Pointing silently, he and Geralt crawled to ?were they lay. Recovering the blades, Goodman heard a cry. ?My Lord!?. Quickly Goodman rise, Sword at the low guard, he noticed it was one of his own Lieutenants. Muddied and bloodied, he stood before him.

?What is the status of your Force?? Goodman asked. Geralt listened on, obviously confused with the exchange of conversion. Thus was no Merchant he determined.

?Sire, we have gained the advantage. We have swept these woods of Renault?s Guards. I know not of the other detachments as of yet?.

Goodman listened and said ?Secure me a mount and bring some Rations to my new Companion here?. Turning to Geralt, Goodman smiled. ?It appears that I have not been forthcoming as to my true identity?.

Geralt was bewildered. Every event seemed like a blink of an eye, and attempting to keep up with everything was proving to be a challenge. He had not even learnt the name of his new acquaintance, and was visibly unsure of whether to feel at ease or not. He awaited the rations Goodman had ordered. Upon arrival, Geralt was in awe of the quality of the food he was presented with. After months of hunting animals that had not been fed themselves, it was a welcomed change. He took bites of the food, savouring each one.?

Once finished, Geralt noticed Goodman talking to the stranger. The conversation was inaudible due to the cries of those fighting. Geralt got up and began walking to Goodman. Doing so, he winced as a sharp pain shot through his knee. His hand reacted immediately, applying pressure to the area of the pain. He moved his hand away, revealing a tear in his clothing, as well as a patch of blood covering the wound. Knowing Goodman needed his assistance, he tried to hide it, and continued walking over to Goodman, doing his best to ignore the pain, his face grimacing with each step. He reached Goodman, put an easy hand on his shoulder, then spoke, "My friend, if I am not to learn of what is going on yet, at least tell me how I can help."

As Goodman completed giving orders to his Courier, he turned to notice his new Companion was injured. "You are injured, Sir". Goodman spoke aloud "Send for a Surgeon immediately". Within minutes, The Healer arrived and began to go about his skills. Goodman waited patiently for word of the severity of Geralt's injuries. Within a few for minutes, more Couriers rode up. Goodman was busy giving order for the move.