Some days later...
As the deep twilight engulfed the woods, a motley group gathered at the edge of the forest. Knights dressed in gleaming armor, prisoners bound in chains, and two unlikely allies stood side by side in an unforeseen union. An eclectic mix of people gathered together, their destinies intertwined in a mysterious way.
A hush settled over them as they looked out at what lay beyond, mountains that seemed to stretch on forever and darkness that loomed like a silent specter. The wind picked up, carrying with it stories from days gone by - tales of adventure and courage - mixing together with newfound conversations full of anticipation for what was about to come.
This diverse group was the rescue party sent by the Crown of Regalyon empire for the village tormented by harpy attacks. There were seventeen of them who had gathered to help save the villagers from this menace.
Due to the shortage of knights and soldiers who could be spared for the harpy mission, the Crown agreed to the Recon knight unit to get more reinforcement from the prisoners.
The prisoners were meant to be transferred to the quarry in the northern part of the empire territory, but they were intercepted by Captain Willem, who had a need for able men. The knights had already packed their siege weapons with them, yet in order to defend against a village infested with harpy creatures they would need additional manpower. The captain of the prisoner escort could only provide ten prisoners from the quarry, which was equally undermanned.
They wore standard prisoner attire; Rough-spun grey tunics that hung to their thighs held in place by a simple rope belt, with coarse cloak covering their body gave them barely protection from the elements.
Beneath the tunic, the prisoners wear plain grey trousers, completing the monotone look. These trousers are loose and baggy, making them less than ideal for movement.
For traveling the prisoners wore ankle boots which almost gave no protection from the chilling ground of the near winter season, while the chains on their arms clinked as they shuffled along, each of them carrying the weight of their past deeds.
Among the group of ten prisoners are; the four smugglers, their eyes filled with a mixture of cunning and desperation, each bearing their own secrets and reasons for their crimes.
A good-looking young foreign mercenary, known as the Jinn, from the arid lands of desert south of Wessen continent known as Median sat with an air of confidence, his stare pierced through the darkness while his gaze swept the surroundings with an alertness.
Alongside him was a fierce-looking samurai, a warrior from Hi-on the land of the Rising Sun in the far east, his presence emanating a sense of untamed strength and discipline. With origins rooted in the Far East, he carried with him the teachings of ancient martial arts.
Next to the Samurai was a mute thief, barely an adult, he was just the wrong person at the wrong time and the wrong place.
Across the mute thief was a runaway arsonist, his eyes reflecting both fear and a glimmer of defiance, an unfortunate escape made him where he is now.
Beside the Arsonist was a burly brute with an ugly scarred face and loose front teeth, standing in the crowd among the others as he had the biggest build among the prisoners.
while another sat beside the arsonists, a Berserker pirate from Vjord in the Norden region in the north, the second most muscular prisoner who had braided blonde hair on the left side of his head.
Two unlikely people standing beside the prisoners by the campfire, a rotund nerd, his spectacles perched on his nose, and a drunken old man, his laughter echoing through the air.
Accompanying the group were five knights, their armor gleaming in the fading light, Three of them wore standard armor, one had heavy armor on, and the captain was wearing lightweight armor. To keep out the cold, they all wore winter coats over their armor. Two wagons were parked nearby, each drawn by a pair of sturdy horses. One wagon held four imposing siege weapons, a warning of the danger ahead. The other was filled with provisions and supplies vital for their mission's success.
The horses parked by the carriages, snorting steamy breaths in the chilly air and gleaming with sweat. They are still and tolerant while their riders take in the atmosphere. They carry a serenity and strength that can't be found elsewhere - a mystical quality exclusive to animals.
The Captain, wearing a winter coat over his lightweight armor set, was an experienced knight who had seen many battles and commanded his small party to make camp for the night. The knights formed up in a circle around the campfire and set about their tasks; gathering wood, pitching tents, and preparing rations for the evening meal. As they went about their duties, The captain watched them intently from atop of his noble steed surveying that all was as it should be before settling into rest himself.
the group rested and caught their breath, the towering mountain range loomed ahead, its jagged peaks disappearing into the clouds. It was in this formidable terrain that their destination lay—a remote village nestled amidst the rugged beauty of the mountains.
With a slight nod, the captain of the knights gave the order. The knights swiftly moved to unlock the shackles of each prisoner.
the metallic clinks faded away, a wave of relief washed over the prisoners, a glimmer of hope sparking in their eyes. Meanwhile, another recon knight moved among them, distributing small packets of beef jerky and a canteen filled with drinking water.
The prisoners gratefully accepted these provisions, recognizing the significance of sustenance from the arduous journey they had. After days of travel on foot from the southern border outpost, their luck changed when they were intercepted by a group of knights. It seemed like fate had brought them together for better or worse.
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With parched lips and weariness in their bones, the prisoners eagerly passed the canteen from one person to another, each taking a few sips to quench their thirst.
The burly prisoner was the second last and when the water canteen reached the ugly burly prisoner from the berserker prisoner, the burly prisoner drank it up until not even a drop of water was left for the arsonist. The arsonist could only grumble in his place while the burly prisoner satisfied himself with a sinister laugh. Everyone saw him in disgust.
The huge-built knight who stood across the arsonist stepped closer and offered the arsonist prisoner his canteen out of sorry.
The crackling campfire cast dancing shadows on the faces of the gathered group as the captain, aged around forty, stepped forward with a piece of parchment in his hand.
He wore a distinct mantle different from the other knights, standing confidently in front of the roaring campfire. "Good evening, prisoners. I realize I haven't properly introduced myself. My name is William Hawthorn, I am the captain of this reconnaissance unit, The Wyvern unit." he declared.
Taking a moment to gather their attention, Captain William opened the parchment and began reading aloud. "We have ten prisoners from the border outpost," he announced, his voice echoing through the night.
The prisoners sat somberly around the crackling campfire, their gazes averted from their packets of uneaten food. Fear and uncertainty filled each of their faces as they contemplated what fate awaited them.
"Among the ten prisoners, we have four smugglers, named Marcus, Ethan, Victor, and Oliver, rise your hands please." Captain William ordered. three adult men and one early teenage boy raised their hands.
"There's a pirate named Hjalmar, a samurai mutineer named Maeda, an illegal immigrant named Aden, a parafin circus performer named Phil, a rapist cutthroat named Ugly Don, and a mute thief named Martin." Captain Willem paused as he expected them to raise their hands and they did.
"All of you are now the volunteers in this mission, welcome to the Wyvern unit, a Regalyon holy knight reconnaissance unit." The captain welcomed.
Captain William proceeded with his introductions, pointing out each knight in turn. "This is Corporal Knightly, my right hand," he said, indicating a knight with dark skin by his right side.
"And this slender knight on my left is Ser Cedric," he continued, pointing to a knight with a graceful presence at his left side.
"Next to Ser Cedric, we have Ser Gareth," he said, motioning toward a muscular knight whose armor barely contained his size.
"And lastly, Ser Percival," Captain William said, indicating a lean knight among the group.
"As you can see now, your shackles are already unlocked, and you are free to go. However, I must say that we find ourselves in a precarious situation, with a formidable threat looming over these mountains."
The prisoners exchanged glances, curiosity mingling with apprehension. One of them, a burly prisoner with a scarred ugly face, spoke up. "Captain, you mentioned we're free to go. Why should we stay and help you?"
Captain Willem's gaze hardened, his eyes scanning the party. "Yes, you have the freedom to choose your path. However, let me make one thing clear—this territory—is infested with harpies. They are ruthless and will not hesitate to attack any lone wanderer. Strength lies in numbers, and our chances of survival are significantly higher as a united force."
Ugly Don, the burly rapist cutthroat prisoner, scoffed and stood up, his muscles straining against his restraints, "Survival, huh? What's in it for us?"
Captain Willem's expression softened, understanding the skepticism that permeated the group. "You may have noticed the shackles around your wrists are now released. Consider it a gesture of trust. We need every able-bodied person to assist in this mission, and in return, I offer you a chance at redemption. Aid us in protecting the innocent villagers from the harpy threat, and perhaps, you'll find a path to reclaim your own lives."
Whispers of deliberation filled the air as the prisoners exchanged glances, contemplating their options.
"Hmph, like hell I would." Ugly Don grumbled as he sprung to his feet, eyes fixed on the road that led from the forest to the village and eventually to a seaport. He was elated since he was familiar with this route; if he could make it to the seaport, he would have plenty of options for escape, away from the Crown's Enforcers scouring every corner of the empire for him.
"Thanks for letting me go anyway," Ugly Don said as he made a swift dash toward the darkness, his desperate escape attempt in full swing. The other prisoners watched as the burly prisoner disappeared into the misty road to the mountains, a mixture of disappointment etched on their faces.
"Good riddance," Hjalmar whispered, the Vjordic berserker just break his silence, "That coward would soon meet the women who would rape and ripped him apart."
"I'd prefer to stay in this party than go alone in the harpy-infested mountain." said the berserker, he was the second most muscular prisoner after the burly one. his voice sounded a bit shaken, showing he had some fear for the winged woman creatures.
"Not just harpies, mind you..this mountain area is also the home for goblins, wolves, and wyverns," The dark-skinned knight added some of his thoughts.
"Wyverns?" The berserker seem bewildered. His face expressed more concern than when he said his piece about the harpies.
"Aye, wyverns," The dark-skinned knight confirmed, " Wyverns and harpies, the deadly rivals in the natural order. They are eternal enemies and they are native to this mountain. Goblins and wolves can be overlooked, but wyverns and harpy are the architects of ruinous catastrophes. Their presence looms heavily in these parts, sparking dread in those unfortunate enough to cross their paths."
Hjalmar is a Berserker, renowned throughout the realm for their prowess in battle. They were fierce warriors who fought alone on the frontline, fearlessly charging and attacking their enemies with no regard for consequence. Their courage and strength earned them awe and admiration from even their foes.
No one would want to stand on their path, the prisoners knew this, and yet, the berserker showed some fear towards the winged woman creatures.
if the berserker was cautious of the harpy, what chance do we have against the winged creatures?
..let alone wyverns. That was the question all of the prisoners had in mind.
Furtive glances were exchanged, each asking the same of their fellow prisoners- what twisted hand of fate could offer them any glimmer of hope against such unholy terrors? The weight of their dire circumstances seemed to crush the very air from their lungs.
Captain Willem's steely gaze lingered on the road where the burly Berserker's silhouette had long since disappeared into the gloom. A muscle twitched along his weathered jaw as he ground his teeth.
"May Aione lead him and guide his path," the captain intoned more a prayer than a benediction. Yet the flicker of regret that danced across his eyes betrayed the true depth of his desires - that Ugly Don finds some crueler, uglier end than mere solitary wandering.
Forcing his features into a mask of grim resolve, Willem turned to regard his haggard company. "All right, gather around, men. Time to eat your rations before we settle for the night."
Weary and famished, the ragtag band of would-be rescuers obeyed without protest. A simple meal and a few scant hours of dreamless slumber were all the small mercies they could hope for on this night. For on the morrow, they would once again march headlong towards almost certain doom against foes whose very existence seemed an affront to the natural order.
⁕⁕⁕
The party sat around the crackling fire, their bellies filled with a meager but satisfying meal. The weariness of their journey was temporarily overshadowed by the warmth and camaraderie shared in this fleeting respite.
As Captain Willem's words hung in the air, the prisoners contemplated the choices before them, their pasts intertwined with regret and longing for redemption. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows upon their faces, each revealing a unique journey of struggle and survival. They knew that the path they had chosen had led them to this pivotal moment, where the shackles of their past could be broken, and a new path forged.
"For those who choose to assist us in this harpy mission, I offer you the Crown's Pardon. Should you fulfill your duties faithfully, your freedom shall be granted upon our return to the Regalyon Empire."
"Furthermore, for those who don't have, you shall receive a Regal bracelet that symbolizes your citizenship and grants you the rights and privileges associated with living, working, and buying properties within our borders. This is an opportunity to leave behind your past and forge a new path." Captain Willem spoke with a strong, resolute voice, breaking the silence like a wave of power. His words filled the air with authority and conviction.
"A Crown's Pardon?" One of the smuggler prisoners exclaimed, eyes widening in surprise. "You are not joking aren't you, captain?"
"No, I'm not joking. You heard it right." Captain Willem said, "Ethan, isn't it? You were a crown's enforcer before a smuggler, yes?"
"Aye, sir," Ethan replied, his face etched with a hint of wounded pride.
"You should know what a Crown's Pardon means." Captain Willem said in a rhetorical way.
"What is it, Ethan?" the teen prisoner with blonde hair asked, "what does it mean, Ethan?"
The young prisoner had never heard a crown's pardon before in his life. He was too young to be a prisoner but it seems like he was one of the smuggler prisoners group.
"It means this is a second chance for us, a clean slate to live in this empire," Ethan explained it to the young smuggler.
Ethan was a smuggler before a prisoner, who used to be an enforcer of the Crown, he further explained, "Crown's pardon is a clean slate pardon for any criminal despite whatever their crimes are. it was usually for political criminals or rebels or defeated kingdom or country enemies, but for common criminals like us, it's like a second chance.. a once in a lifetime chance. The Crown does not grant their pardon lightly for people like us."
"That's correct, and you guys will be compensated fairly." Captain Willem assured them, "This is the land of promise where all men get what they work for."
The prisoners glanced at each other skeptically, their disbelief clear on their faces. One of them, Marcus, the dark-skinned smuggler, spoke up. "How can we trust your words, captain? Promises are easily broken."
Captain Willem met his gaze, his tone resolute. "I understand your concerns, but I assure you, my word is my bond. The Regalyon Empire values honor and integrity, and we uphold our promises. I stake my reputation on this pledge. Your commitment and dedication will not go unnoticed or unrewarded."
A flicker of hope sparked within the prisoners, uncertainty slowly giving way to cautious optimism. Captain Willem then turned to Corporal Samuel Knightly, a seasoned knight known for his strategic thinking, and motioned for him to step forward.
"Corporal Knightly, please brief the group on the current harpy situation in the region," Captain Willem directed, entrusting the task to his second-in-charge comrade.
Corporal Knightly stood tall, his gaze commanding the attention of everyone present. "Thank you, Captain. The recent surge in the harpy population has brought chaos to this once-peaceful region. Normally, harpies migrate to the warmer part of this realm during this season, but a strange and prolonged storm has blocked their usual route. As a result, they have diverted to the mountain range where our village stands. The harpies, driven by their need for food and procreation, pose a grave threat to the safety of the villagers. They already attacked the village as we speak. The village officials have sent a request for the reinforcement, we are the first to respond until the main reinforcement comes."
Corporal took out a piece of a paper scroll from the messenger bag, all the prisoners and knights knew what it was, a forecast scroll from the "From the scholeres report we got. We will have a short winter this year, so don't hope too much of the snow will fall any sooner."
"How long until the winter would come?" asked a flamboyant prisoner. He seemed like one of the smugglers.
The dark-skinned knight shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering towards Captain Willem, silently seeking permission to respond. With a curt nod from his superior, he cleared his throat. "I cannot say with certainty. But I would urge you all to steel yourselves and expect the worst. One or two weeks, if the fates are merciful."
"Or the cruelest torture of all," the corporal added, his voice a gravelly rasp. "A winter without winter's blessed snows to blanket and renew the land."
"A winter without snow, can you imagine that?" a teen boy prisoner asked as he was looking at the flamboyant prisoner with a clean face expecting him to answer the boy's curiosity.
The flamboyant prisoner shrugged, "Never experience it, not even once."
"In this part of land? perhaps, but there always be plentiful winter snow build up to an adult's thigh in the northern part." Said Hjalmar, with a hint of missing home in his eyes. "Especially in Vjord, even the sea would freeze and make a bridge to the Wessen mainland."
"So if there is no snow in the winter, we will have to fight the harpies until the reinforcement comes?" Marcus asked again.
"Unfortunately, Yes." Corporal Knightly confirmed.
A murmur of concern rippled through the group, their eyes reflecting a mix of apprehension and determination.
Corporal Knightly continued speaking, his voice unwavering. "Our mission is threefold: to eliminate the harpy threat, safeguard the village, and wait for the arrival of the first snow. Harpies despise the winter and will seek refuge elsewhere when the snow touches the ground. We must hold the line until the reinforcement comes, protecting the people, and driving back the harpies with all our strength."
Captain Willem interjected, his voice steady and commanding. "We stand united in this mission, bound by our shared purpose. Together, we can make a difference. Let us embrace this opportunity to not only secure our freedom but also to restore peace and safety to these lands. The fate of the village and the lives of its inhabitants rest in our hands."
The group absorbed the weight of their mission, their resolve hardening as they understood the magnitude of the task before them. They were warriors with a chance at redemption, fighting for their own freedom while safeguarding the lives of others.
"Excuse me, Sir Wiremu," Maeda, one of the prisoners from the Far East with top knot hair, bowed to Captain Willem.
he said, "Some nature business, I need to take care of by the woods."
Captain Willem looked at Maeda gravely and nodded. "Yes," he said solemnly, "you may go."
Maeda spoke with a peculiar backward words-tongue, his native language of the Land of the Rising Sun flipped on its head. His words were slow and soft but unmistakable; they seemed to tumble out from behind him as he conversed, instead of exiting in front as one does when speaking in more conventional tongues.
The party watched as the samurai walked into the woods not far from where they had made camp. He was the second person to leave, everyone wondering if he would come back or follow in the footsteps of the burly prisoner and flee.
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