NationStates Jolt Archive

Over many hills and lowlands covered green in springs new bloom, the Kingdom of Khalivad stretches. The great forests of the Eastland and the low mountains of the North all are contained within its stretches. From the great capitol of Druvin (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/Medieval/bmparts.jpg), King Triuss rules with grace and power with his Lady Aliriana. And their reign shall be a wonder of the ages.

- Vincent Braum
Kingdom Scribe
May 14, 1389


Triuss's armor creaked and made noise as he rode on his black charger. Behind him rode 40 of his Royal Guard Knights. The sun was yet high in the sky and they were still several hours ride off from Castle Druvin.

The row of horses continued on down the well cleared road, made in the old ways with stone, allowing for Triuss's army to move quickly throughout the kingdom. They came to a small bridge which sat upon a strong stream of water and stopped.

"My Lord, the heat is hard on the horses. I wonder how our harvests have turned out," said a knight through his helm. He reached up and took off the great helm and breathed in fresh air, the man was middle-aged and had a short trimmed forked beard. Triuss smiled at his child hood friend.

"Ah, Dugan, I've already spoken with my tax collectors. Our harvests were fruitful. And the horses will be fine, after all I bought them at the Fairs in Tumora!" They both laughed at their inside joke. The other knights were taking off their helms and a few had loosened their chest plates.

They had riden hard from the southern city of Polanima where the city magisters were asking Triuss for protection against the Southern Princes. They were a small collections of kingdoms in the south that had always envied Khalivad's greatness and had established many border wars with them. Triuss's own father had invaded and defeated one prince, but that had left four more. Triuss felt he soon might have to make a similar venture.

He sat down and watched as his horse grazed on the grass. Several small huts were sitting next to the stream not far away. Peasents going about their daily labor were working nearby fields. Fields that he owned and ruled. Triuss was 28 years old, taller than most men, but very thin and gangly. He wore his black hair trimmed and short and held those he spoke entranced with his rbight green eyes.

Dugan on the other hand was a more rough looking sort. He was a master-of-arms and commanded Triuss's Royal Guard, the 10,000 force of knights which was the core of the kingdom's army. He had been married in his earlier life, but his wife had died of plague and Triuss had offered his old friend the position he now held, and he had never regretted it.

Dugan smiled and stood back up from sitting. "Come my Lord, we should be moving on." Triuss nodded and stood. Dugan turned to the resting men.

"Knights! Mount up!" They responded quickly with trained ease. Helmets being put back on and jumping quickly into the saddle despite their heavy armor. Triuss mounted and put his helm back on. His royal signet colors on his chest plate shone in the light as the sun beams hit them.

Trius raised his arm and motioned forward. Once more the line knights continued on down the road.

The weary line of knights finally came into view of Castle Druvin, the greatest castle in the land. A horn blast from the look-out tower of the castle noted that they had been spotted. The King's banner was being lifted up the flag pole next to the Queen's and the Kingdom's. A line of men-at-arms wearing their lords livery rushed out upon the long bridge that spanned the great moat of the castle. They lined the bridge and then got into position.

The line of knights came closer and finally tramped upon the hard rock of the bridge. The men-at-arms cheered and lifted their weapons, the sun's dying light shining off the tips of their spears and halberds. Triuss rode in the front and had removed his helm, he waved to his men with a smile as he rode past.

They party came to the outer gate. It was designed by master craftsmen less than 20 years prior. It had a two foot thick wooden back, covered in plated iron, and then reinforced with in-laid stone-iron hinges. It had servived a siege or two in its time, and had proven its 20,000 gold crown worth more than once.

The massive outer gates were gaping open the Gate Wardens at the side saluting the king as he rode through them.

Triuss's guards turned left after the gate and to their barracks, which was inside the first curtain wall. Triuss and Dugan turned right and rode down the lane, past houses, bakeries, smithshops, leatherworkers, and other small peasent working buildings. The people would halt their work to cheer as he passed. Triuss smiled and rose up in his saddle, waving to his people. A few young children threw flowers at him.

They came to the Inner Gate. It was a smaller version of the Outer Gate. It was guarded on either side by large bastions where his deadly trained Venetian crossbowmen were always stationed. He was given pass by the warden who bowed as Triuss rode by.

Within the inner ward was a great open area. Here troops of swordsmen practise and longbowmen practised their art. It was also the location of the Garrison's barracks. Long wooden buildings lined the inside of the wall. A tavern was next to the gate as well, off duty soldiers going in and out, enjoying the fresh ale they had drank.

Trius rode past it all and with Dugan went to the end of the Ward and came to the castle Keep. It was several stories high, taller than anything else, even the towers of the curtain walls.

It had flowing steps up to a great wooden carved door. The Door was already open and standing there waiting was Triuss's advisors and part of his court, but he had eyes only for his wife who waited at the center in a flowing blue dress which went with her beautiful long golden hair. Her crown, a silver band circling her head and bearing a green emerald at its center (upon her forehead), shone in the light.

Triuss dismounted, pages ran forward and took his horse, along with Dugans. He stepped up the steps and everyone bowed to him. He nodded to his advisors then went to his wife. She smiled, bowed, and then looked up at him. "Welcome home."

He smile back and took her into his arms, leading her inside their home. "Its good to be home."


Dugan watched as his king walked into the keep and new that he would not wish to be disturbed for some time. Dugan walked over to the advisors. Three men, Talberd, a fat and rather rich merchant was the king's finacial advisor, Ericson, tall and muscle bound, was a trusted General and military advisor, and then there was Orin, a slippery fellow with long black oilly hair, the king's Master of Assassins and Spies.

"Dugan, pleasent to see you old fellow!" boomed Talberd. His belly wobbled as he spoke and his chin jiggled as well. Dugan mentally thanked god for never having gone down that path.

"And you my dear merchant, how was the Fair in Polmora this year?"

"Well enough, well enough. I managed to gain a 10,000 crown profit from just one of the King's trading goods. It seems that Khalivad has a lot of valuable goods to the outside world." Dugan smiled and nodded in a mechanical fashion, money and trade were not his forte.

Ericson gripped Dugan's forearm and the two smiled. "Good to see you old comrade. Its been three months since you left for Polanima," said the soft-spoken giant. Dugan had always liked Ericson. He was a tenacious leader and a wonderously skilled warrior. He had once served another king, but after Triuss had defeated him in combat Ericson had begged to become his vassal, and Triuss had accepted. Since then he had led the Khalivad armies to many victories.

Dugan turned and nodded politely to Orin. The man's small dark eyes held laughter at the gesture. "Welcome back Dugan, I was told that you would arrive today...and I hear things are not too well in Polanima," said Orin. His voice was as oily as his hair. Dugan nodded.

"Come, we must speak of this elsewhere," said Dugan. With a gesture the four men walked into the keep and headed for a private room.

OOC: I'm curious as to whether or not someone can tell me where I can generate a good map. Cuz my Microsoft Paint skills are lacking.

Night fell over the South Marches like the extending hand of a dark cloak. The great open expanse between the Coranock and Black Oak mountains, the most southern border of the Kingdom of Khalivad. Along the border thirty motte and bailey (http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b184/Upum/Medieval/mottea.jpg) forts sat guard.

March Warden Kaspar walked along his wooden battlements contemplating the darkening sky. He looked out over the water field moat and saw the lights in the nearby village and manor go a-light, torches being set for the night watch. The small village held about 30 small huts and a larger wooden manor house. Around it and up to near the walls and moat of Castle Kaspar were fields of vegetables and other crops.

Kaspar owned 8 more such villages and manor houses. He was the 13th Hereditary March Warden of the House Kaspar. 120 Knights owed him allegiance and some 600 men-at-arms wore his livery.

And he owed alliegance to Baron Ambrose who in turn owed allegiance to King Triuss.

Kaspar sighed as he remembered the last visit that the King had just made to the south. The large merchant city of Polanima just a days ride north had been raided by a band of a couple hundred unknown men.

How they had slipped past the patrols and forts of the March Wardens was something all togethor a mystery. The King had summoned all 30 March Wardens to Polanima and asked for an explanation. There had been none to give the King.

With orders to double the watch on the border and prepare for a campaign in the spring left Kaspar and the other March Wardens tense. Each of them had control of a castle along the border. Baron Ambrose and Baywelf, who each controlled half of the border country had called a second meeting and had warned all of the Wardens that if they failed in their task to watch the border, heads would role.

Kaspar sighed and walked to the ladder down the wall. He passed a sergeant holding his pike at attention.

"Double the watch sergeant, and relieve the men at mid-night," said Kaspar as he passed.

"Yes mi-lord," the sergeant said in a rough voice. He jogged down to a part of the wall over the barracks. He opened a top hatch into it and called down into it. Kaspar got to his dirt courtyard and listened as 20 men tromped up onto the battlements, more torches being lit.

One could never be too careful thought Kaspar. He retired up the long path up to his small keep atop the hill.

ooc: I'm guessing you meant PT- Past Tech, and not PMT- Post Modern Tech right? Or you could I guess say that it means Past Medieval Tech, but then thats redundant...anyway, good going to far. TAG