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Chapter 1 – Rain of Alioa

A torrent of rain swept the city of Alio as the three riders passed under the quartz arches that served as city gate. As they passed by a guard post, a century stepped out, to hail them, but upon examining their armor, he immediately stepped back into the shelter.

The three riders were Paladins. Holy warriors of the militant orders of the Church of Hishan, which also made them nobles as only a noble can enroll in the ranks of any Paladin house.

The first paladin, riding point for their formation was a dwarf of high reputation and considerable presence. His name was Lord Collin Silverstream, Preceptor of House Protectorate. Collin was tall for a dwarf, standing five foot, or so he claims. His companions, however, see him as a good three inches shorter. When confronted about this notion, Collin usually rebuttals, saying “it’s all this blasted armor weighing me down.” His considerable age has turned his hair and beard a frosty white and his joints don’t want to move like they once did, but he was still a force to be reckoned with in battle. The Protectorate Preceptor was a jovial man with a dry wit that caused his stone grey eyes to sparkle. Long hours under the canopy of the sky has given the dwarf a mildly tanned complexion to his leathery skin, and the cold rain has given his bulky nose a red hue, but his eyes sparkled none the less at being out of doors.

The Paladin riding to Collin’s right at half a horse link behind was Sir Amy Nisan, also of House Protectorate. Amy was a young and beautiful woman of a small frame, standing about five and a half foot with long, straight, fiery red hair, currently tied back with a leather thong, and eyes the color of agates. Like her hair, the lady knight had a fiery attitude and, like most nobles, harbored a heavy prejudice against the peasantry of Alioa. She looked particularly irritable this day as the rain streamed down the pale skin of her face and hair, and onto the burnished steel of her pauldrons.

Riding at Collin’s left at half a horse link behind was Sylias Banta, a Novice to the Paladin Orders, so he had no house at the time. Sylias stood about six feet in height and had a solid build. His skin was deeply tanned from his extensive work in the outdoors and his hair was long and black. He rode with his eyes downcast and a modest and submissive posture as the three rode through the main street of the city. Sylias was a commoner, the first of the peasantry to ever enroll in the Paladin Order. Customs of Alioa prohibited commoners from aspiring to high titles of the holy orders such as Paladin or Patriarch.

Sylias spent his youth on a farm outside of the city of Alio as a general laborer. The farmer, Olian, raised him from an infant, and taught him to read, write, and solve simple figures. He also taught Sylias some history of the kingdom, and being a deeply religious master, taught Sylias of the gods..

Olian was also a veteran court soldier. He taught Sylias how to handle many weapons in case the lad was ever called for militia. Sylias’s weapon of choice was the claymore, so one Winters Feast, Olian gave Sylias his own great sword. Olian had Shitowi, the smith on the farm, to fashion the claymore for Sylias. Shitowi, however, was more tuned to repairing wagon hitches and plow shares, so the sword came out heavy and gaudy. Sylias, however treasured the weapon.

As it happened, one day Lord Collin was leading a column of knights into the city after an engagement in the highlands, and saw Sylias practicing in the courtyard of the farm. Sylias’s fighting style and stances were graceful and elegant, almost to be beautiful, yet exotic. His technique wasn’t customarily Alioen, but Collin could see a very dangerous design to the young man’s style.

Lord Collin beseeched the Council of Six to take in the young farmhand as an experiment to see what would come of having a commoner in their ranks. After long deliberations, the Council agreed and, after hours of badgering from the emissary of the Paladin Order and Olian, Sylias began his novitiate as apprentice to Lord Collin.

Collin taught Sylias how to fight sword and shield, but the lad found the items too cumbersome and went back to his broad bladed claymore. Thinking Sylias would eventually join the ranks as a Crusader, Collin was stunned to discover his apprentice had discussed joining House Templar. As it stood, when Collin released him of his apprenticeship, Sylias would be turned over to Lord Abryal.

Lord Collin lead the trio on through the city, towards the palace grounds and around towards the Basilica as their chapter house was near there.

“Miserable weather, this,” grunted the dwarf as he shook the rain from his frosty hair. “If this keeps up, we’ll need to have Sylias to row us home, rather then ride our horses in.

”I believe it was Sylias who said rain was good for the soul once,” said Amy, glaring at the unoffending novice.

Sylias sighed mournfully. He was accustomed to having misdirected blame thrust at him. Being a commoner in a holy order set aside for nobles has ostracized him considerably from his brother knights. Lord Collin and a few members of the Council were the only Paladins to actually show him any form of human respect, which saddened Sylias greatly.

Nearing the chapter house, Sylias stopped abruptly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a beggar woman sitting huddled under the shelter of a storefront. “Excuse me a moment, Master,” said Sylias as he nudged his horse into the direction of the beggar.

“He is not going to…” started Amy.

“Be still, child. It’s for him to do,” replied Collin, holding his hand up to halt the fiery haired Paladin.

“Milord,” Amy protested. “He is only going to encourage that street rat to continue pillaging off the backs of her betters!”

“That may be so, but it’s for him to do,” replied the dwarf, sternly. “I think that at times, our order has lost sight of some of our duties as Knights of the Church. Sylias grew up as a farmer, so in some ways, he understands what this poor soul’s going through. Let him do what his heart tells him and hope it’s by the guidance of Hishan himself.”

Amy sulked in the rain as she watched Sylias ride over to the beggar.

Sylias pulled his horse up near the beggar and dismounted. After tethering his mount to a nearby post, Sylias quietly sat down beside the poor woman. “Miserable weather we’ve been having lately,” he said conversationally. The woman looked up and her mouth gaped open in astonishment.

“Mi…Milord?” asked the beggar, staring at him uncomprehendingly.

Sylias looked at the beggar a moment, taking in her features. She was younger then his twenty cycles, and not unattractive, if dirty and a bit gaunt from her living in the streets. Her long raven colored hair was messy and unwashed, her pale skin was dirty, and her brown eyes shown with exhaustion and a deep sadness. “I said that it’s miserable weather,” repeated Sylias with a smile. “A bit wet to be out on the streets, wouldn’t you say?”

The beggar woman continued to stare at Sylias. She immediately realized that she was looking a Paladin in the eye and lowered hers to his cuirass. Thinking she would get arrested for loitering, she began to stand. “Yes it is, Milord. I’ll move along, then.”

Sylias put a hand to her arm to halt her. Under his touch, he could feel her trembling with the chill in the air or fear, so he kept his voice soft and gentle. “There is an inn about two blocks in that direction,” he pointed down the road his party just came. “I know the innkeeper. Tell him Sylias sent you and give him this coin. He’ll put you up for the night, and give you a hot supper. Eat your fill and I’ll settle up with him on the morrow,” said Sylias. “Have you a home here in Alio?”

The woman shook her head. “No Milord. I’ve neither home nor family, only myself.”

“Then when the weather dries, leave town and travel the South Gold road. There is a farmstead about a quarter mile down. I know the family well there so tell them that I sent you and inquire if they may have any work you could do. If so, they’ll give you a roof to keep the rain off and food to eat. I make no promises that they will, mind you, but you have nothing to lose from trying,” directed Sylias with a warm smile. “Go now before you catch your death.”

“Thank you, Milord,” said the woman, compulsively embracing him, tears in her eyes.

Sylias smiled and stood, helping her to her feet. Whispering a prayer of good fortune for the lass, he watched her walk away down the road, holding the coin he’d given to her to her chest as if it were a newborn child. When she turned to go into the inn, Sylias mounted his horse, and rode back to his master and Amy. Amy would likely scold him for assisting a beggar, but it was of no moment. Sylias felt good for helping a less fortunate soul.

Amy watched as the beggar stepped into the inn. “How did he know she wasn’t going to run off with the coin he gave her and spend it on drink or something?” she asked Collin.

“Sylias knows people, Amy,” replied the dwarf in a gruff voice. “Had he’d felt that she would ponder his money away, he’d never stopped or looked twice in her direction.”

“He still needs to be more careful,” scorned Amy. “If word gets out that a Paladin helped out one beggar, we’ll be unable to ride through town without being mobbed by every gutter dog or street rat in Alioa.”

Amy knew and could recite every article of faith, every mandate of church law, and every suitable punishment if those laws were breeched. Her father, the Duke of Anisinia had been a paladin before he inherited his duchy, and Amy herself, had joined the Paladin Order at age ten as a page to the now late Sir Ferian of the Protectorate. She had practically been brought up as a Paladin. Now, she was in her twenty-third cycle of life; thirteen cycles in the Order

Sylias, however, had only been in the Order for three cycles. During his novitiate, Sylias was trained by Lord Collin himself in weapon usage, but the commoner bruit didn’t take well to using a weapon of elegance such as a sword and shield. He’d rather swing that gaudy and unbalanced broad bladed claymore, which Amy begrudgingly had to admit, he was very good at. No man has yet to best him on the practice field. He was more then capable of swinging that lumbering thing with the ease one would expect from a rapier, rather then a great sword.

When Sylias wasn’t in weapons training, Amy was giving him lessons on diplomacy. She had to further admit that he took well to those classes as well. His naturally soft voice had a very soothing and easy quality to it. Sylias wasn’t loud like most of the peasantry Amy’s had dealings with. He spoke just above a whisper and to Amy’s knowledge has yet to raise his voice in anger and if ever he’d been frustrated, he took care as to not let it show.

Sylias has troubled Amy in the past three years that she’s known him. She balked at first, when Collin assigned her to tutoring him in the arts of diplomacy. The very thought of having to teach a commoner made her feel as if she was being punished for a crime she didn’t recall committing. After the first month or so, she found herself looking forward to their classes together. He was a very astute pupil, who caught on to their lessons quickly. He asked intelligent questions and when he erred, he accepted her chastisements with grace and dignity. Amy found that she liked the novice, much to her dismay. A noble befriending a commoner was unseemly after all.

Sylias had too many mysteries for Amy’s satisfaction. One of the larger secrets that bothered Amy was the color of his eyes, a secret only because she’d never seen them. Being a commoner, Sylias spent a lot of time looking at his feet in the presence of his betters. Not one time has he ever looked her in the eyes, and this troubled her tremendously.

“Can we move along now, Lord Sylias,” asked Amy, stressing the word ‘lord’ as Sylias rode back to them. “Or do you think that being rained on further would indeed wash away all of our transgressions? Is this rain a form of baptism for you?”

”Yes Milady, sorry,” murmured Sylias as he flanked Collin.

If he could seriously dislike anyone in this blasted world, Sylias disliked Amy. Most nobles would ignore him, or keep their distance. Sylias often ate, prayed, and spent his leisure apart from his fellow Paladins. Amy, however, was the only noble that forever went out of her way to criticize and reprimand him. What had he done to this fiery haired shrew for her to scorn him so? Why couldn’t she just leave him be?

When they reigned in at the chapter house and dismounted, Sylias lead the trio’s horses into the stables. Amy watched him walk in with their animals, and she stepped up to the doorway. He had begun removing the pack gear, laying them down in a neat pile near the entrance to the stables. He then removed the saddles and laid them across the wooden horses provided for them. As she watched him gently brush their mounts down to remove the water, she made a decision. She was growing ill of not knowing something simple, such as the color of this blasted novice’s eyes. A plan formulated in her mind of a tactful way of finding out.

“Sylias, after these animals are taken care of, you are to assist me in removing my armor,” ordered Amy. “After that, you will clean and polish my armor and if I see a speck of rust on any piece, I will have you lashed to the whipping post and thrash you myself.”

Collin’s eyebrow shot up as he glanced back at Amy’s command. “Peculiar that,” he murmured and stepped inside the warm sitting room of the chapter house, leaving Sylias in the care of Amy.

Collin had watched her goad Sylias for the past three years. He rarely stepped to his apprentice’s assistance when Amy started her chastisement over the smallest thing, as Collin felt it would be interesting to see how far Sylias could be pushed until he snapped. Sylias, however, showed remarkable patience, and has yet to do anything other then submit to Amy’s reprimands.

Sylias stopped and looked back at Amy. “Milady, I wouldn’t insult you for the world, but don’t you have ladies in waiting to do that for you?”

“Sylias, I have given you a direct order. Yes, I have ladies to handle that, however, it’s not their fault I’m soaked to the bone. They didn’t see fit to stop for a quarter of an hour to help a beggar on the street, therefore it falls on you to do the job for them,” ranted Amy, watching Sylias rub their horses down with hay.

“Yes Milady,” sighed Sylias. “It’ll take me a moment to finish up here, if you’d like to go on into the chapter house, ma’am.”

“Lord Sylias, I don’t believe I asked you your opinion on the matter. If I go into the chapter house, I won’t be able to get comfortable while encased in steel, so be quick about it!” Amy seemed to stress the word ‘lord’ again. She often times did when she was chastising the young novice.

Sylias finished with the horses and let Amy lead him towards the chapter house. Dutifully, he opened the door for her and followed her inside and up to her chamber. Her lady, Myra, met them at her door.

“Milady?” Myra inquired as they stepped up.

“You’re relieved of your duty this night, Myra. Enjoy your night off,” Amy said with a smile to her lady. “This one will perform your tasks for me tonight.” That comment had some steel in it.

“Yes Milady,” replied Myra with a wicked grin.

Sylias groaned

Amy stepped to her door and stood there, staring at the oak finish. “Well?” she asked Sylias in a stern tone.

“Sorry,” Sylias replied, opening the door.

He followed Amy as she stepped in, and stood in the portal for a moment. Amy turned around and fixed him with a scathing look. “Shut the door, novice,” she ordered in a voice that betrayed her patience was at an end.

“Milady, isn’t that somewhat scandalous?” asked Sylias, visibly nervous now.

“So is the entire house seeing me in my undergarments, novice. Shut the blasted door!” she yelled at Sylias, causing him to flinch.

Sylias shut the door, as commanded and turned around. Amy had taken down her hair and began to towel it out. Any man first seeing her with her hair down would be shocked at her beauty. Sylias, however, had grown jaded in his servitude to the Order. Coupled with the fact that he’d seen, and felt first hand her temper, he could easily see why this firebrand was yet unwed. Not really wanting to be there, but not really having much of a choice in the matter, Sylias stood near the door, at attention.

Amy beckoned him forward and turned her back to him to face a standing mirror on her wall. She spread her arms, to give him freedom to dislodge the straps under her rerebrance. Sylias removed her pauldrons and laid them on a dressing table near by. Then he removed her vembrace, and gauntlets. He hesitated before removing her baldric.

“Problem, novice?” asked Amy, her impatience ringing clear in her voice

“I’m unable to reach the buckle on your baldric, ma’am,” Sylias blushed deeply.

“You’re taller then I am, Sylias. You should have no problem reaching it from behind me. This is customary for removing the armor of a Lady,” she intoned in a professorial voice. In truth, she did not want to turn from the mirror, hoping for a glance at his eyes.

Sylias wrapped his arms around Amy to handle the front straps. Having Sylias’s arms around her made Amy shiver a little and her breath caught. For a fleeting moment, Amy had thoughts of firing Myra entirely and having Collin turn Sylias completely over to her. That thought was quickly dissipated, however. This was impossible. He’s a commoner, a farm hand, a clodhopper for the love of the sun!

“Sylias aren’t you done yet?” asked Amy with heat in her voice, irritated at herself for such impossible thoughts.

Sylias grabbed hold of the front and back sections of her cuirass to keep them from falling. Having a paladin’s armor hit the floor was a sign of complete and utter disrespect towards the paladin. That would earn him a tassel of lashings from this hell spawn. When Sylias placed the cuirass onto the table and turned back towards the devil that so hellishly consumed his servitude, he noticed a large rent in the lower back of Amy’s under tunic. A gash stretched along the small of her back and left a large portion of her pale skin in view.

“Forgive me, Milady. Your armor seems to have worn a hole in your under tunic,” explained Sylias.

“Where?” asked Amy, looking around.

“Here, milady, “replied Sylias, pointing to the tear.

“Sylias, I don’t have eyes in the back of my head. Place your hand on the hole,” instructed Amy.

“It’s at the small of your back, Milady. Forgive me, but because of the uncomfort of this sitation, I’m unable to continue,” said Sylias in a diplomatic, but stern tone.

Amy’s face reddened and she lowered her eyes, not turning around to look at the novice. “Very well, “she muttered, shamed with herself. “Sylias?” she asked when she heard him open the door.

“Yes Milady?” Sylias replied, pausing.

“Thank you,” said Amy.


Chapter 2 – Council of the Six

“Gentlemen, take your seats,” intoned the Paladin High Lord, tapping his gavel to the podium in front of him. “The annual meeting of the houses will now begin.”

An entire legion of knights sat in the Hall of Audience on this day. Once every year during the fall equinox, the Paladin Order would join together to discuss the recent events from the past cycle and to acquire stations and duties for the next.

This was the third annual gathering that Sylias attended. He found he enjoyed these meetings as they were filled with news of current events around Alioa and the surrounding kingdoms. Standing in the back with the other novices, as they had no house to sit with, Sylias took in the room. Like the position of the chapter houses, the Templar sat in the center cluster of benches. To their right, sat House Crusade, and House Protecterate sat to their left. On a dias in front of the cluster of benches was a podium painted white. Behind the podium sat seven chairs. Each chair was occupied by a member of the council, save the one sitting to the left of the center chair. Instead of its usual occupant, Counciler Silimtel, there sat a shield baring the standard of the Order; a claddagh, symbolizing that Counciler Silimtel had passed into the next plane of existence.

The meeting went into discussion of current events, in which House Lords brought them abreast of recent occurrences around the kingdom. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened, which made Sylias sigh in relief.

Posts and duties were handed out. A score of knights were to head north to the permafrost region to assist in driving back the hordes of ice barbarians that constantly raided the mining cities there. Another score of knights were to head into the Rockscore Mountains to help the dwarves blockade their mountain homes from future drow invasions and so on and so forth.

“Our final posting assignment comes up from the marshes to the south. The kingdom of Lintel is raising the price of their goods yet again. We’ll want to send a knight down there to see if we can reach a diplomatic solution before the peasantry revolt. Unreasonably high prices along with the taxation from the various duchies they reside already scar them to the point of uprising as is. To quell this, we’ll need to go to the source,” announced the Paladin High Lord.

Sylias looked around at House Protectorate. They raised the finest negotiators of any of the houses, and the fact neither Lord Collin, nor Amy had accepted a post, he was sure of whom Protectorate would be sending down.

Sylias looked down at Collin with Amy sitting next to him. They were talking heatedly, judging by the look on Amy’s face. Collin then stood. “As all ye know, ye can find no better in diplomacy then mi House,” he began. “Methinks I got the best lad suited for the job.”

“The council recognizes Lord Collin’s request. Who will you be sending?” asked the Paladin High Lord.

“I’ll be sending mi apprentice, Sylias,” replied Collin.

A collective gasp sounded in the hall; Sylias was one of them.

“Is that wise, Colin?” asked the Paladin High Lord in a voice almost inaudible. “He’s a novice and a commoner.”

“So he knows the hardships of life his folk go through. The lad’s been taught well the ways of negotiation, I saw to that mi self. I can think ye no better man for the job, Milord.”

“Very well,” began the Arch Paladin. “The council recognizes the wisdom of the Lord of House Protectorate. Lord Abryal, Sylias is now of the age to begin the tests of the Order to be promoted to a house. I understand he has chosen House Templar as his home, do you concede with Lord Collin of the Protectorate in this matter?”

Lord Abryal of House Templar stood. “I do concede to Lord Collin’s request, and will let this assignment stand as Sylias’s trial. I will, however, add two stipulations of my own. The first is that Collin sends Sylias a defender as I don’t feel right sending the lad in on his own. The second, and probably, the most important, is that I request Sylias be raised to the rank of Interim Paladin of House Templar prior to his dispatch. No king or emissary in his right mind will listen to the words of a novice.”

“The council calls Sylias Banta of Alioa to the floor,” announced the Arch Paladin.

Sylias, his head swimming, stepped from the ranks of novices and walked down the nearest aisle. When he reached the dais, he stepped to the podium and knelt before the Arch Paladin. Out of the corner of his eye, Sylias saw both Lord Collin and Lord Abryal approach the dais to stand behind him.

“Lord Collin is this knight fit to serve the Order?” asked the Paladin High Lord, ceremonially.

“I find him with no fault of his own and feel he be a valuable addition to our order, Milord,” replied Collin in the same ceremonial tone.

“Lord Abryal, is this knight fit to serve our Order?” asked the Paladin High Lord, now to the preceptor to the Templar.

“I find him in good standing with the blessing of Hishan and gladly accept him into the ranks as a Templar, Milord,” replied Abryal loudly.

“Then let it stand that Sylias Banta of Alioa will be released of his apprenticeship of Lord Collin and be raised to the ranks of Interim Paladin of House Templar until the successful completion of his task,” announced the Paladin High Lord, striking his gavel to the podium.

Sylias was dumbfounded. All of this for the simple negotiations of the price of goods from a neighboring kingdom?


When the meeting came to a close and all houses retired from the Hall of Audience, Collin, and Abryal sat in the Paladin Highlord’s study with the Arch Paladin. The chamber was an unremarkably small room with plain decor. A large desk with two chairs sitting in front of it sat by a closed, tall window. Shelves loaded with books covered the walls and the spicy smell of incense covered the room.

The Arch Paladin sat in a chair behind his desk. He was a tall man, well past six foot. His long white and thinning hair lay about his shoulders and an equally colored mustache framed his pale, leathery face.

“Are we doing the right thing?” the Paladin High Lord asked the two house lords in front of him. “He is just a lad and will only be accompanied by one defender. We should likely send legions south with him.”

“They’d never get past Valewood, Milord,” replied Collin. “Sylias will be fine traveling through the lands of the elves. He’s been there before, peddling wares from the farm where we acquired him, so he knows the land. Xila, queen of Valewood won’t take kindly with a thousand knights on her doorstep.”

“The focus of our original ploy was to get Sylias south. Do you honestly think he’s the true chosen?” asked Abryal.

“Hishan guides my hand in this matter, Abryal, but any man with his sanity intact questions the decisions of the gods from time to time,” replied the Arch Paladin. “I will follow Hishan’s guidance and send Sylias south. Collin, have you selected his defender?”

“Amy will go with the lad,” replied Collin shortly. “They don’t get along well with each other, but she’s a proven fighter and methinks there be a trust between the two.”

“If nothing else, the tales they will return with will be quite comical,” laughed Abryal.

“How did Amy take the news?” asked the Arch Paladin curiously.

“Argumentatively,” the dwarf chuckled. “Lass wasn’t none too happy about the situation, but she be understanding the reasons. She wouldn’t be happy unless she went anyways, to mi thinking. I offered to send Sir Charyl in her stead, but she mouthed off something about sending a disreputable tramp whose bosom is bigger then her brains. Then she went on about how they’d never make it past Olian’s farm before Charyl’d want to stop and visit a hay loft. Methinks that was the selling point right there, ye see.”

“When do they leave?” asked Abryal, laughing at the dwarf’s jest. “I think I’d like to see them off personally.”

“In the morn at first light,” replied the dwarf gruffly. “That boy may have been a peasant, but he’s the soul of a Paladin, he do. I’ll miss him being by mi side.”

“Abryal, what did you mean about this mission being his trial for membership of House Templar?” asked the Arch Paladin suddenly.

“If what we feel is true, and he is the champion, then he’ll have earned a place in House Templar and, by the sun, so much more. His road isn’t going to be easy, my old friends,” replied Abryal.