Theres a story parents tell their children as they tuck them into bed at night. Its a story that pulls at the heart string of every young Albion. It teaches us, that in each of us, hides a hero. I want to tell you about this fairytale. Of course i call it a fairytale because nobody would truely believe it happened. Well unless you were there of course, and even those who were there arnt truely sure they saw what they saw.

Our story begins with a young boy named Knyls. Knyls was a trainee from Humberton. He was shy and quiet, friendly to those that knew him. He dreamed of great adventures and of one day becoming the hero he knew he could be. I dont think he knew that day was coming much sooner then expected. He woke that morning with the plan to continue his training as a minstrel for the Academy. He had recently been recruited to join a young and growing guild by the name of Last Stand.

But something was different this morning. A silence penetrated the air. The only thing of note was smoke rising from the distant north. This was too far away to concern Knyls, but he was curious.

He continued preparing for his day, dawning his chain armor, sharpening his sword when a commotion broke outside his hut. He raced to find a fellow minstrel, a more seasoned and battle warn warrior talking to the villagers. Knyls approached the crowd to listen.

Drastic, "come hither brothers, the savage enemies of Hibernia lay seige to our lands, even now they attack Myrd Fortress, whom shall stand with me?"

A few of the older men grabbed their swords, and followed Drastic off to the north.

Knyls knew he wasnt ready to fight a single Hiberian, much less an Army. But still, a voice inside him would not allow him to return to his training. So instead he followed the men north, not allowing them to become aware of his presence.

Upon reaching Snowdonia Fortress the Armies of Albion, those that had responded to the calls to Arm, were gathering into squads and rushing out into the battle. Knyls did his best to look big and like he was suppose to be there, trying to find a squad to join, but he could not, and as the last group left for Myrd, he felt useless and small. He turned to head back South and return to his training when he felt a hand on his Shoulder.

He turned to see an Albion General standing by herself, without a squad, tired and battle worn. She had a scar across her cheek. He had seen her only a few times before but knew she was well known for her conquests. Recently she had been one of the Generals in the Battle for Eras. Battles that made young men like Knlys want to become Albion Knights.

General, "come young minstrel, together we will move like the wind and end this seige, i cannot do it without you."

The new, somewhat odd duo, quickly raced off North to Myrd.

General, "the Hiberian Scum have breached the second door, they will be inside the third in a moment. The survivors are gathering outside. We will lock them into the castle and slaughter them as they try and escape with my Relics."

Knyls, "your relic? I thought the Cauldron was Hibernians relic?"

General "ha, no...they are mine. And they need to learn to stop touching my things."

Knyls saw in the Generals eyes the flash of a crazed Saracen. There was no use arguing over her absurd claims. Nor did it matter, as now the appoached Myrd.

The sight was horrible. The dead litered the land. Along the outerwall rested a few remaining Albs. The general quickly began to rally them. Like a wave of optimism spreading across the troops, they began to stand and prepare for the assault. Chants broke out, swords clanged, boots stomped, the battle was about to change....until

Without warning, from the east and unearthly army attacked. The hordes of Migard have arrived. They smelt blood. Many albs lay dead on that field in the fight that ensued. The general was wounded as she fought off 20 mids by herself. Knyls rounded the corner just intime to see something that made his blood boil.

He saw a mid and hib whispering something. Then the hib handed the staff of merlin to the norseman.

The norse turned to the horde, said something in a language Knyls couldnt understand, and the two armies parted without conflict.

Knyles understood that it was the combined efforts of the savages that has done so much harm to his people, his blood boiled, his eyes, blood shot...revenge is what he seeked.

He ran to the spot where the general lay.

Knlys, "stand now General, stand and fight...Albion needs you.....i need you..."

The general saw the anger in his eyes, and though each movement was anguished and labored, she stood, and the two began to chase the mids.

The Albion reinforcements were gathering at Snowdonia to attempt to run down the mid army, but they were too far behind to catch the mids before they reached the mile wall.

Knyls and the General knew the only way to stop the mids in time, was to sacrafice themselfs. They moved like the wind, over the hills and around the lake. They managed to find the mids as they passed into Pennine Mts.

And you would not believe the sight that followed, but i tell you it was true, the 2 charged 10,000 trolls, dwarfs and norseman, and they fell, one by one at the hands of Knyls and the General. 10, 20, 100, they piled the bodies as swords swung and blood spilt. But even the two knights could not hold off the mids forever, and an arrow hit the general in the side, as an axe found Knyls leg.

The two, both on their knees now, all hope lost, prepared themself for the finishing blows, surrounded by the thousands, suddenly...a trumpet sounds...

They had done it, held the armies long enough for the full force of Albion to charge over the hills. The battle was glorious, and wave after wave of red cloaks swarmed the mids, and sent them back to their heathen gods.

The staff however wasnt amoung the dead. Apperently one norseman escaped and was hiding.

The albion army moved north to Hadrians to block the lone mids escape. After a short rest, Knyls and the General began the search, knowing their speed would be far more useful playing this great game of hide and seek.

Over hills they ran, searched the trees and hills, valleys and camps, then Knyls had the idea that the norse would attempt to reach Beno, if they could reach it first. Like the wind in a huricane the two ran as fast as they could, and just a few hundred yards from safety they found the hunter, dragging the staff behind him. Quickly the two dispatched the norse, grabbed the staff and took it to Eras. The game was over, and the staff returned.

The two parted ways, but the general turned to our hero Knyls.

General, "youve done great this day, and your name shall be remembered forever. But how do you pronounce it?"

Knyls, "like the river, Niles. How do you pronounce yours?"

General, "own-in....like owning everone."

The general smiled and turned back towards Hibernia.

General, "i have to get my relic back. Should only take an hour if you wanna come."

Knyls looked into the distance, he was ready now and knew it. And together they left for farway lands. But thats another story.

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I don't like this story, not one bit....

...

So I was out last night, taking my usual evening stroll. I thought to myself, "Eh, maybe tonight I'll go hike up and down the Pennine hills." Well, as many can attest, the Pennine mountains don't even come close to the beauty of the Jamtland mountains. Missing the snow, I casually wandered into Snowdonia... where Highlanders 'groom' their sheep. Midway through my hike, I see a plume of smoke in the distance. Curiosity had only one solution.

As I got closer, I found that my fellow brethren we're already en route to the party. We joined up to see what all the ruckus was about. I distinctly remember one dwarf at the back of the pack mudder to his berserker friend, "I wonder how many sheep it took to start a friction fire that big!'" The female kobold shaman snickered. I found this interaction all very unusual... it is not often that a hunter finds himself in a group of people.

It was a strange sight when we arrived. Clearly something big had happened. In the distance, I saw Hibernians slowly moving as one to the east. But that was not my concern, I was merely out for a walk.

What concerned me was the utter lack of regard for personal hygiene and care for their own property. Highlander sized pants were strewn about on the floor. They don't even close the doors behind themselves! And people call Midgardians savages! Beginning my life as a rogue and eventually earning the rank of a Hunter, you learn a thing or two about when to be sneaky. Surely a fortress this large may still have something of value. I slowly inch my way inside to the top of a dim staircase; all the while I could hear the Saracen screams coming from outside. No doubt my new found friends were having fun.

As fate may have it, I was in luck! Someone left a staff at the top of this tower. While useless for a hunter, it know doubt had to be worth something to someone. Good thing I knew a guy back in Erikstaad that could find a buyer for the right price. Now being a good Hunter, I always made sure my doggie felt useful. The look on his face when he picked up the staff was priceless. If my seller can get a good price for this I will be able to resupply my dwindling arrow supply.

Outside the fortress I could see that my new friends ran out of skulls to smash and decided to wander the hills looking for more excitement. I bid them farewell and continued on my leisurely hike back through the Pennine mountains.

Whenever I would go to Pennine, my pup always like to go visit the drakes. Somehow he got along with them. The view of the sunset by the drakes was decent, nothing to write home about.

As it was getting late, I decided to head home through the Hadrian's Wall. I was about to find out why they say nothing good happens in Hadrian's after midnight.

There is a well groomed road in Hadrian's Wall, which is strange because the rest of Albion is oft unkempt. I have traveled it before, but always during the daytime. Something wasn't right though... my pup seemed less interested in his staff and more alert than usual. Quickly from behind rushed in two dirty looking Saracens, both with that look like they wanted to fight anything.

They would even attack a lone individual simply walking home after taking his dog for a hike!

THUD!

When I awoke, rubbing the back of my head, I found that I had lost a few coin. But worse than that, they took my dog's staff!

I love it

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Let me tell you a story of an ol' seasoned warrior and his shield.

Many moons ago Holsten, a well known Jarl of the frozen lands o Midgard lived a long rich life. Brawling, drinking and feasting like a true Norse in his prime. Jarl Holsten had seen many battles in his younger years, earned many spoils, and slept under many roofs. As younger men from rival kingdoms had stopped challenge his might and renown in the Realm, the drinkinghorn and good company of pretty companions had become his unseen enemy.

At a time where the realm of Midgard were at peace, no warhorns were blown and hammers not swung, our brave Warrior found himself in need of riches, his trusty armor was worn and seen better days. Longing for battles, and slightly addicted by local Skalds singing songs about his heroic deeds, who he had paid them to sing
He grabbed his heavy hammer in one hand and the shield in the other ready to face the day, as he pressed Play

From his old dusty map he saw the snowly lands he knew so well, had all be protected by the NA Mids. And with the cold winds blowing it was not the season for a foreign adventure, not this day. Hunting demons for their souls was never his thing, so ventureing into the Darkness alone gave him the shivers. Best as he stood there in mighty Svasud looking at his map, upside down, a Kobolt bumped into him as the Gods had something in store for him on this cold winters day. This was the God's will and Kobolts did have a reputation of finding riches, not aswell as the round dwarfs, but same hight so that was settled!

"Sorry Jarl Holsten, I was eager to get on my way and didnt see you" the Kolbolt apologized at once.

"Thats alright little fellar. Where you'd be headin in such a hurry. Any fighting to be had?" Holsten asked with a smile
and an ironic tone, towards this little person who couldnt had spend a single attribution point in Str. at creation.

"I have heard nasty rumors about invaders in a nearby dungeon, not far from here" the kolbolt quickly replied.

"Really, why would someone inform a clothwearer like yourself and not a tested warrior as myself" Holsten looked sceptically.

"Im sorry my Jarl, but if you look into the sky you will see for yourself" The kolbolt pointed at the killspam box in the air above them and looked down slightly embarrased on the taller realmates behalf.

Holsten had had enough of this, and picked the Kolbolt up in one arm and carried him to the Hasterner awaiting outside the gates.
"Lead the way, and should these rumors be false you owe me for wasting my precious time" They both knew where else he'd be spending his time but the Kolbolt just nodded eagerly, since this was not his place to challenge a Veteran.

Passing trees, stones and eyes in the distance watching the two traveling companions closely. Snowflakes began to land on their cloaks soon Svasud was no longer in sight, should they look back.
After they had passed a friendly keep where the lord helped them with rations and they could catch their breath for a bit, before ventureing further west. The snow was thick almost blured their vision as a full nights length at a tavern. And no change in graffically settings could change it

"Are you sure this is the wa..." Holsten got interrupted by himself as he walked into a stonebuilding and got temporarily censured because /filter was still on as he cursed out the pain created by hitting his toe.
"we are here, this is the dungeon and our destination" The Kobolt was all blue, but nothing new in that. However shivering and longing for cover from the brutal winds blowing outside.

After a loadingscrean and a crash to desktop Holsten loaded in to the entrace of Dodens where the Kobolt had already lit a fire on an expiring mushroom stack with his magic, and were feasting happily regaining power sitting, after doing a full self-rebuff and summoning a pet. No drinking horns were spotted so Holsten stamped on the fire to kill it and draw his Warhammer. The kobolt realized the situation and heard something down one of the tunnels:
"Says something in a language you do not understand" The Kobolt raised an eyebrow and looked confused towards Holsten who just shrugged and smiled.

After many moments of fighting creatures of all sorts, they arrived at what appeared to be some sort of hideout with a fireplace and plenty of guards. The many years of a vicious life had proven Holsten one thing. If there are guards there usually is something worth guarding. He smiled to himself thinking of the riches and could almost hear the Skald sing about this adventure where he singlehandedly overcame a situation where as otheres would had failed.

"....Holsten, can you loot this bag over here?" the danm Kobolt dragged him out of his dreams and stood on top of a pile of dead guards and what seemed to be a higher Con Vendo of some sorts.

Before he reached the lootbag to check his well-deserved reward, he heard voices from the tunnel they had just arrived from:
"says something in a language you do not understand" Danm people really need to use voicecoms it's 2018 Holsten thourght
As if he was fully quickness buffed Holsten jumped quick as he could, around the nearby entrance-wall to hide inside the Summoned Troll Spiritchampion who gave him absolutly no cover, but at the time it seemed like a perfect strategy.
"Awww you step on me!" the Kobolt yelled also inside the Spirit Champion and it ecchoed down the tunnels.

The voices came closer and soon a raiding group of redcloacked knights of Camelot showed themself at the nearby entrance to Hamar's hideout. Holsten was happy about the odds, how should he overcome this situation the best. Would a Charge into the group sound the best, and could the Skalds even capture how epic this situation was when he started out hiding...
Again he was awoken from his daydreaming as the first knights entered the room, without showing himself he just put his shield-arm out and the first two knights walked straight into the hard metal and fell over for a brief 9sec. The Kobolt saw the chance and with filthy spiritmagic he started launching one circle after the other of harmfull magic towards the targets who clearly was not spirit-capped. Holsten, fully unbuffed swung and swung, but because of his many victorious years was not in the same shape as of on Uthgard1.0 and quickly ran out of Endurance.

"What I wouldnt give for a drink right now" he reached to his pocket and only found out he had forgotten to restock on endu-pots.
As the old worn armor got hit again and a agin, untill it finally cracked, our brave Warrior got knocked out of breath and to the very ground where they Valkyries later would raise him again and bring him to Valhalla where he shall feast amongst the Gods in Odins great hall. Unfortuneatly Holsten brought the wrong Neck and are now stuck in Midgard, or housing.

So I shall wait for him in Valhalla, with a horn of Mead

If that last story were a movie, I'd watch it. In case you're wondering how it ends ...My mama said never talk to strangers.

wonshot wrote:...

Awesome, I miss you.

hear ye, hear ye~