Chapter 1: A Plea For Help
On the outskirts of the Crystal Empire is Fort Ardenborne, a small stone keep that sits atop a motte surrounded by a wooden walled bailey. It is a minor base of operations for the Equestrian Royal guard. Most days, the stallions on duty sit around a table playing poker and drinking cider until they are unable to perform their military duties, at which point the stallions swap shifts and the process repeats itself. Life and duty is simple at Fort Ardenborne, as no real trouble ever arises. But on one fateful day just before fall began to turn to winter, a messenger raven landed at the Fort's tower window where the commanding stallion lay sleeping.
Rough parchment was tightly strung to the birds right leg, bearing a message; a plea for help. Lieutenant Armored Bliss awoke abruptly at the sound of the raven's beak knocking on the glass window. He arose slowly, still hung over from the night before, and retrieved the message from the bird.
“Our village lay under siege by horrors most foul, we cannot flee as the winter is already heavy upon us. Cross the mountains to the West, where you will find our village nestled in a valley. I plea for a fast response” the message read.
The Lieutenant stumbled downstairs into the main quarters of the foundation, where most of the other guardsmen were sound asleep with the exception of Nimble Tail, who was the only one of the ten soldiers stationed at Fort Ardenborne that didn't drink. The Lieutenant gave Nimble the message and pushed him out the door into the shivering cold that would become the closely approaching winter.
Nimble, confused, knocked on the Fortification door. After much stumbling the Lieutenant opened it.
“What!?” the Lieutenant asked.
“How am I to take on this... 'siege of horrors most foul' alone? None of the others are going with me?”
“Not my problem,” the Lieutenant responded, and then proceeded to slam and lock the door.
Nimble wasn't very well liked. He was shy and weak, but rather straight-headed when his emotions didn't get the best of him. Upon seeing him, you wouldn't imagine him to be fit of the Royal Guard; but there he was, a stallion of the so called 'disciplined Royal Guard' now quested with a near impossible task.
If Nimble ever in his life wanted to down a drink, now was that time. His emotions took control and despite resisting urges, he trotted to the nearest Tavern, which was a convenient three mile walk, still considered to be in the outskirts of the Crystal Empire. Throughout the entire length of the walk he pondered over what he ought to do. To drink himself into stupidity and laziness as his fellow soldiers had done? To muster up enough courage to take the long trek into the troubled village alone? Or to out-right remove his armor and resign from his duties? Thoughts of fear, courage, disgust, anger; all swept through his troubled mind.
He finally reached the Tavern and sat at a small dimly lit table in the corner of the establishment. He began to ponder all of these things which brought a tear to his eye. No waiter or waitress asked him if he wanted anything, as he looked as though he did not want to be bothered; not even by the friendly warm embrace of a tank of cider. He simply sat and twiddled his hooves until he was stirred by an ongoing conversation that took place in the middle of the room.
Four stallions sat around a large table, already covered with stacks of empty tankards and empty burlap sacks that were once, or at least dreamt, to be filled with bits. The four were as loud and rowdy as they were diverse.
There was Asger Brave, a large hoofed earth stallion with fur white as snow. He was of muscular build and bore no articles of clothing or accessories with the exception of the largest iron casted sword any pony could ever dream of wielding.
To his left sat Erlend Guilder, a smaller earth stallion, a foreigner and traveler from Maretonia. His coat of fur was thin and of an Orange and Brown hue, with braided black locks that draped from his head and tail. He brought with him loose fitted copper armor with blue feathers on the helm, and a long pike stood up and rested on his side.
Then there was Iver Fletcher, a bright blue pegasus with a bow and quiver slung around him, who kept with him a satchel of many random trinkets and craftables.
Finally, there was Draugr Bane, a rather chunky looking deep brown coated unicorn stallion, who wore thick vambraces made of cowshide and carried a short wooden mallet.
This unseasonal gang of four were discussing stories of loss as well as of adventure; of times past and hopes for the future. Nimble never saw a cluster of more awkward yet service-ready brethren. Nimble approached the table and stood awkwardly, as if words would flow from his mouth, but not enough courage was mustered up to bring anything out.
It was a pitiful sight: here stands a scrawny awkward stallion, dressed in the uniform of the royal guard, practically trembling before this table of stout looking stallions.
Asger Brave, halted mid-speech and stared at Nimble. “Is there something a royal guardsman such as yourself might need from us?” Asger asked politely, “You look a bit lost...”
Nimble regained his composure and spoke up, “I am quite lost. I have been tasked with the duty of helping a village far over the mountains from something terrible, I don't know what it is but all I know is that I can't do it alone and none of the other soldiers will help me.”
“We sit here squandering our time, only to talk of the past or what we hope to come,” said Erlend.
“It is true, with nothing else to do, perhaps we would be of assistance to you,” Asger added.
The four stallions looked at each other and nodded. Nimble's face lit up with delight; he wasn't as afraid anymore, he knew he wasn't going to be alone.
And so their quest begins...
