Knights in Shadow
The Knights in Shadow
The epic clash at Rodopski Partizani concluded the war campaign between kingdoms for a while as forces on both sides had suffered major losses. Even though the Kingdom of the Seven Hills was on the side of the victors, no final resolve was reached or treatises signed. Hostility was still choking the air and borders were on high alert. The nations had withdrawn to rebuild, reorganise and strategise.
Wise as he was, King Beren knew that war would soon erupt upon the lands again, and this time maybe even more violently. He began to muster forces from all sides of his kingdom. The circle of his Royal Knights had naturally expanded because a lot of new young members had earned their stripes during the last war. They were a formidable fighting force, loyal only to the crown, executing every command without hesitation. However, the path of virtue, honour and integrity was a difficult one. Beren’s valiant Knights were bound by their code and lacked a key quality for the chaos that was to come – flexibility.
The young ex-bandits, now soldiers, fought in the Battle under the Raining Skies shoulder to shoulder with the Royal Knights. They felt like their potential was lost in this sort of warfare, their speed and cunning bound by formations and orders. They could offer the army of the Seven Hills so much more. So, they went to their king and sought to persuade him to unleash them. They offered to create a new special force, not bound by rules or moral codes. They were to move in the shadows, silently and autonomously, free to make their own decisions, no orders or generals, just their witts. They would only answer to the king himself and no one else. They would become his unseen hand. Even though King Beren was a man of peace, he was willing to compromise his vision slightly if that meant his people would be better prepared for the battles to come. More lives could be spared on his side that way. He saw that in reality war was brutal and not fair. So, to keep his own integrity and that of his knights, he agreed. The king knew that the hearts of those brothers in arms, standing before him, were true, even if they did not share his vision or methods fully. They were already a tightly knit unit, bonded by a deep friendship. A brotherhood, they moved as one, thought as one, their hearts drumming in the same beat. They swore an oath to the king then and there that they would always be loyal to his crown and always protect the people of the Seven Hills.
And so it was, they were to be scouts and spies, a mobile and adaptable unit bound solely by their oath of loyalty. The band didn’t have any moral hindrances, their desire for glory outweighing morality and fairplay on the battlefield, victory was all that mattered to them. The king had let them sow chaos and discord in the ranks and hearts of his enemies by any means necessary, leaving his own hands and heart clean. They could finally be let loose, free of orders and commands, to serve their king in their own way, using their talents to their full advantage.
Wise as he was, King Beren knew that war would soon erupt upon the lands again, and this time maybe even more violently. He began to muster forces from all sides of his kingdom. The circle of his Royal Knights had naturally expanded because a lot of new young members had earned their stripes during the last war. They were a formidable fighting force, loyal only to the crown, executing every command without hesitation. However, the path of virtue, honour and integrity was a difficult one. Beren’s valiant Knights were bound by their code and lacked a key quality for the chaos that was to come – flexibility.
The young ex-bandits, now soldiers, fought in the Battle under the Raining Skies shoulder to shoulder with the Royal Knights. They felt like their potential was lost in this sort of warfare, their speed and cunning bound by formations and orders. They could offer the army of the Seven Hills so much more. So, they went to their king and sought to persuade him to unleash them. They offered to create a new special force, not bound by rules or moral codes. They were to move in the shadows, silently and autonomously, free to make their own decisions, no orders or generals, just their witts. They would only answer to the king himself and no one else. They would become his unseen hand. Even though King Beren was a man of peace, he was willing to compromise his vision slightly if that meant his people would be better prepared for the battles to come. More lives could be spared on his side that way. He saw that in reality war was brutal and not fair. So, to keep his own integrity and that of his knights, he agreed. The king knew that the hearts of those brothers in arms, standing before him, were true, even if they did not share his vision or methods fully. They were already a tightly knit unit, bonded by a deep friendship. A brotherhood, they moved as one, thought as one, their hearts drumming in the same beat. They swore an oath to the king then and there that they would always be loyal to his crown and always protect the people of the Seven Hills.
And so it was, they were to be scouts and spies, a mobile and adaptable unit bound solely by their oath of loyalty. The band didn’t have any moral hindrances, their desire for glory outweighing morality and fairplay on the battlefield, victory was all that mattered to them. The king had let them sow chaos and discord in the ranks and hearts of his enemies by any means necessary, leaving his own hands and heart clean. They could finally be let loose, free of orders and commands, to serve their king in their own way, using their talents to their full advantage.
Into the Fray Again
The band of young men were thrilled – they had reclaimed a bit of their freedom, and they could do what they wanted and however they wanted as long as it served the interest of the Kingdom of the Seven Hills. And best of all – they get to do it together, claim victory and share it with their newly found brothers. They were eager to hone their talents in stealth, subterfuge, deception and assassination. They got to play the game by the laws of the streets, outwit your opponent, cheat and bend the rules, a game that they had played their entire life before the army. However, they now had a greater cause – the people of their kingdom. They flourished, clearly made for this type of warfare – espionage, assassination and sabotage, they could do it all. They were fast, quick-witted, ruthless and willing to do anything, getting rid of whoever got in their way. The backs of their enemies were never safe and it didn’t take long for people to start looking behind their shoulder, constantly on high alert, looking for the distinct black and gold armors. Rumours started to spread of King Beren’s special force, his shadow hand, his dark guard.
Soon the flames of war roared upon the people of the Dragon World again. And as fate would have, history repeats itself. All the nations at war gathered their forces in the Rhodopes once again. This time the special force was ready, their hands untied. They managed to easily make their way through the shadows and strike fear into the hearts of their enemies on the battlefield. With cunning decisions and synchronised actions they managed to prove their newly earned fearsome reputation, they were not to be trifled with.
The young men saw the opportunity to claim what they hungered for – glory, gold, recognition. They could do it by using their proven talents and claim it by blood and death. They decided to instigate a great battle, a clash that would echo and surpass the Battle under the Raining Skies. The most ancient clan, Dulo, arguably the most formidable fighting force at the time, had taken a great hill and occupied it with all of their allies. Our roguish band of daring young men decided they could do the impossible, charge Dulo’s alliance and claim an inconceivable victory. But they needed more men. So, Drak and Feros decided to put their charm to work and went about the different camps to win the hearts and minds of people and most importantly, befriend their leaders. The two young men spoke with such a passion that ignited peoples’ souls with a burning ambition for glory. Feros and Drak’s ardour and silver tongues managed to influence the decisions of a few clan leaders who hated each other at the time. They convinced them to set aside their differences and fight side by side for something greater – a unified purpose, a common enemy and victory in one of the most legendary battles, that would be etched in history and forever sung by bards around the Dragon world.
And here they were, a year later, on the same battlefield, with even more impossible odds. But this time they were not boys, but battle hardened young men, and most importantly – they were let loose. The two great armies clashed, the roar of war shook the mountain once more. They waited for the right time, cool headed, and just before their allies nearly lost it all, the special force struck. Like shadows they came out of the forest. Their enemies drunk by the taste of nearing victory were blind, their flanks wide open. The shadows dropped their swords and drew out their trusty daggers, their steel singing quietly a requiem for their foes as a massacre ensued. The victory was swift and absolute. For all it was worth they had delivered on their promises – a battle for the ages.
Soon the flames of war roared upon the people of the Dragon World again. And as fate would have, history repeats itself. All the nations at war gathered their forces in the Rhodopes once again. This time the special force was ready, their hands untied. They managed to easily make their way through the shadows and strike fear into the hearts of their enemies on the battlefield. With cunning decisions and synchronised actions they managed to prove their newly earned fearsome reputation, they were not to be trifled with.
The young men saw the opportunity to claim what they hungered for – glory, gold, recognition. They could do it by using their proven talents and claim it by blood and death. They decided to instigate a great battle, a clash that would echo and surpass the Battle under the Raining Skies. The most ancient clan, Dulo, arguably the most formidable fighting force at the time, had taken a great hill and occupied it with all of their allies. Our roguish band of daring young men decided they could do the impossible, charge Dulo’s alliance and claim an inconceivable victory. But they needed more men. So, Drak and Feros decided to put their charm to work and went about the different camps to win the hearts and minds of people and most importantly, befriend their leaders. The two young men spoke with such a passion that ignited peoples’ souls with a burning ambition for glory. Feros and Drak’s ardour and silver tongues managed to influence the decisions of a few clan leaders who hated each other at the time. They convinced them to set aside their differences and fight side by side for something greater – a unified purpose, a common enemy and victory in one of the most legendary battles, that would be etched in history and forever sung by bards around the Dragon world.
And here they were, a year later, on the same battlefield, with even more impossible odds. But this time they were not boys, but battle hardened young men, and most importantly – they were let loose. The two great armies clashed, the roar of war shook the mountain once more. They waited for the right time, cool headed, and just before their allies nearly lost it all, the special force struck. Like shadows they came out of the forest. Their enemies drunk by the taste of nearing victory were blind, their flanks wide open. The shadows dropped their swords and drew out their trusty daggers, their steel singing quietly a requiem for their foes as a massacre ensued. The victory was swift and absolute. For all it was worth they had delivered on their promises – a battle for the ages.
The Dark Guard
The sweet taste of triumph brought clarity. After this great clash Lestat, Feros and Drak were certain that King Beren’s diplomatic approach couldn’t give them what they yearned for, namely battle and conflict, so their paths had to separate. The vision of the King of the Seven Hills was different from what Lestat, Feros and Drak had in mind for their future. It was one of peace and a lot of diplomatic deals struck with everyone, leaving no enemies for the shadow force to test their newly discovered fighting style and their thirst for glory and death. They were left with no choice but to honourably leave the clan on friendly terms. They promised to always keep their oath to the crown and the people, that their dark guard will always be watching over them, their first home. The king had grown to respect them and maybe had a soft spot for the daring young men. He was not angry. He understood. He even bestowed Feros with a noble title – a Lord, a testament for his loyalty and deeds.
Leaving the Kingdom of the Seven Hills was the best thing that Lestat, Feros and Drak could have done. They decided to establish the first assassins’ clan that has ever roamed the lands of the Dragon World. By combining their three unique characters’ morals and ideals they slowly started creating a brotherhood, a family, a religion. They took the titles Oms and created the council of The Three Oms. Up until this point the leadership of this clan remains the same as it began: the three creators, a well oiled machine.
They began to forge their own destiny under their own name: The Dark Guard was born – a name they choose to reflect their beginnings as the shadow knights of the Seven Hills, and their oath to always protect the people of the Seven hills. Only those deemed truly deserving were welcomed into the ranks of the newly formed brotherhood. Back then they weren’t many at all, yet they were chosen not solely for their martial prowess but for their commitment to the leaders’ values that would come to define the principles of The Dark Guards, which up until today have remained untouched. Soon, the ideals they established became the guiding compass of the clan, shaping its culture and character. The banner of The Dark Guards became a symbol of their unity, a standard that fluttered in the wind as a testament to their strength.
Leaving the Kingdom of the Seven Hills was the best thing that Lestat, Feros and Drak could have done. They decided to establish the first assassins’ clan that has ever roamed the lands of the Dragon World. By combining their three unique characters’ morals and ideals they slowly started creating a brotherhood, a family, a religion. They took the titles Oms and created the council of The Three Oms. Up until this point the leadership of this clan remains the same as it began: the three creators, a well oiled machine.
They began to forge their own destiny under their own name: The Dark Guard was born – a name they choose to reflect their beginnings as the shadow knights of the Seven Hills, and their oath to always protect the people of the Seven hills. Only those deemed truly deserving were welcomed into the ranks of the newly formed brotherhood. Back then they weren’t many at all, yet they were chosen not solely for their martial prowess but for their commitment to the leaders’ values that would come to define the principles of The Dark Guards, which up until today have remained untouched. Soon, the ideals they established became the guiding compass of the clan, shaping its culture and character. The banner of The Dark Guards became a symbol of their unity, a standard that fluttered in the wind as a testament to their strength.