Sir Gracian follow the beautiful Flydorill with a smile on his face and for a moment forgets about his fears of the faeries. Instead he wine and dine and dance and sing. He knows well he must be seen as a brute by such refined creatures yet he want to spend every second with fair Flydorill.

---

Sir Gracian rolled 21 using 3d6+10.  Amor (Flydorill)

Aliadra claps her hands excitedly at the prospect of watching Sir Dalan joust.  When he mentions having no steed, she laughs and it is like a rainbow appearing after a storm.  She waves at one of the knights, who approaches and gets down from his horse, handing Sir Dalan the reins.

"This is my brother, Jawlyre," she says by way of introduction.

The Faerie Lord bows before unbuckling his breatplate and buckling it on the knight as Aliadra places her favor, a short vine with pretty purple flowers, around his upper arm.  The breastplate is almost weightless and the shield Sir Dalan is given looks like a giant seashell.  Aliadra gives Sir Dalan a slightly-less-than-chaste kiss.

Mounting the faerie horse, Sir Dalan can feel the horse's power and it takes much of his strength and will to keep the mighty steed from launching itself at his opponent.  A corridor has formed with the Fae lining both sides.  At the far end another Faerie Lord sits atop his own steed.

His mind is fogged by the intimate kiss from the lovely elf maiden and hazy from the smell of her perfume, a mix of cinnamon and lavender.  Sir Dalan does not even see the signal to start but his borrowed horse bolts at the sight and catapults toward his opponent.  It is at times like this that muscle memory and training take over and so it is for Sir Dalan.  Barely noticing what he is doing, he couches the lance and aims it for the Faerie Knight's shield.

His blow strikes true a split second before his opponent's, sending the Faerie knight tumbling off of his horse.  The crowd erupts in a wild cheer for both contestants.  Somehow, Aliadra is waiting as Sir Dalan dismounts the horse, where she throws her arms around him.  Soon after, the fallen knight approaches, beaming.  He shakes Sir Dalan's hand and congratulates him on his skill.  He appears to have earned himself a lot of Glory by jousting the Notable Sir Dalan.

Gain 10 Glory and a check in Lance if you don't have one.

Aliadra pulls Sir Dalan through the congratulatory crowd to the dance floor.

Dancing with the Elf is like floating on clouds in a swirl of colors and smells.  It can only be described as magical.  She moves with effortless grace and although she allows Sir Dalan to lead, as is appropriate, she has a way of showing him what to do and when, as if they are linked in some way.

Sir Dalan gets a +5 to his roll, which he then criticals.  Add +1 to Dance.

Meanwhile, Flydorill leads Sir Gracian to a table heaped with delicacies of every variety, where they sit and eat.  Flydorill hands Sir Gracian a cup of light-green liquid that tastes like dew falling from a rose petal.  A group of other Faeries join the pair and soon all are singing and laughing and telling jokes and stories.

Before he knows what is happening, Sir Gracian is standing on the table with several dozen Fae looking up at him exhorting him to sing for them.  Sir Gracian is not a singer on a normal day and certainly not in front of crowd.  The only song that comes to mind is a rough drinking song hardly fit for an assembly of course knights let alone this august company.

As he stutters lamely, Flydorill gets up next to him and puts her arm around his waist.  Sir Gracian can feel her soft curves pressing against his side and smell the fragrance of her hair, which reminds him of lilacs.  Screwing up his courage, he starts to sing.  Then, something amazing happens.  Flydorill sings along with him.  It seems impossible that this beautiful, fair creature could know this song and yet somehow she is singing it with him.  Her melodious voice a counterpoint to his own gutteral one.  Somehow, it is beautiful.  When it is done, many of those assembled are crying and all are cheering wildly.

Sir Gracian gets a point in Singing.

It seems that whatever is in this dew-flavored mixture it is highly intoxicating because when Sir Gracian and Flydorill get out on the dance floor he is a complete mess.  Even with his partner's otherworldly help, he seems destined to step on or kick everyone else on the dance floor.  And yet, no one seems to mind.

When the dance is over, Sir Gracian is cajoled into telling a story.  Perhaps the liquor addled his brain or the success of his drinking song led him to overconfidence.  Whatever the case, what comes out is a base and probably blasphemous retelling of a course story that in any other company would have resulted in stoning.  However, the Fae seem to be in a perpetually jolly mood and no offense is taken.

Sir Gracian fumbled his Orate roll, he gets a point in Orate.

The two knights are led back to their respective tents and enjoy the pleasures therein before falling, exhausted, to sleep.

Day 30

In the morning, the two wake up in the middle of the Forest Arroy.  There is no trace of the Kingdom Inapercu.  On the ground there are three packages.  One contains the Whetstone of Tudwal Tudclud and a note, "Beware Morgan Le Fay, she is responsible for the coming of the Grey Knight."  The other two packages are wrapped with a bow of pretty purple flowers and a bow of tangerine flowers respectively.  Sir Dalan and Sir Gracian recognize the flowers from the night before.

Walking a ways, the pair find their squires and horses where they left them.  When asked, the squires explain that Sir Caradwg's squire and horse disappeared during the night.  No sign of either can be found.

It is normally about a 10-day journey from here to London and the knights have 12 days until Pentecost, so no problem . . . right?  3:-{>

Both Sir Dalan and Sir Gracian have their Faerie Lore score raised to 5 and get a check in Faerie Lore as a result of their encounter with the Fae.

What would you like to do?

With a heavy heart Sir Gracian understands that the Kingdom of Inapercu is gone and with it the fair Elf Maiden Flydorill that stole his heart. He carefully and slowly opens the package meant for him.

"I almost wish they had stolen us away for a hundred years, my brother." he says softly to brave Sir Dalan. "Is it terribly selfish of me to dream of that?"

Sir Dalan is silent a moment, quite overcome as he looks down at the package garlanded with lavender. Blinking back tears he takes it reverentially recalling the way Aliadra perfume had exploded in his brain, the caress of her lips on his...

"No Sir Gracian, a hundred years would be a wondorous dream. We are the most fortunate and unfortunate of men to have seen what we have seen and to have departed." He smiles softly at his friend. "I think that I would fight a hundred Sangnoirs to go through that again! But I know it is not meant to be."

He carefully opens his own package.

Sir Dalan's package contains a dress.  A Faerie dress.  It is easily the most beautiful dress the young knight has ever seen.  It is woven of thread so fine that the individual strands cannot be made out.  It is the color of Lady Ellowyn's eyes and it shimmers as the light hits it.  Sir Dalan recalls now mentioning his human love and remarking on her eyes.

Sir Gracian's package contains a necklace of mithril and diamonds.  It is impossibly delicate and shimmers like fire in the early morning light.  Although he has no skill at appraising jewelry, he is pretty sure that it is worth more than his estate with himself included.

Very carefully Sir Dalan wraps the dress up in the package again so his horse could carry it. "Thank you fair Aliadra with hair like autumn leaves and lavender always about you." A wistful smile crossed his lips.

"Well my brother we best ride on. I'll carry the whetstone if you wish. Or at least my rouncy will."

The pair set off along the long road to London, hoping that the worst of their journey is already behind them and that a dozen days will be sufficient time to see them to their destination.  Almost at once, however, the skies darken and sheets of rain begin to fall, making traveling difficult.  Lashed by rain, with a howling wind assaulting their ears and branches seemingly grasping at them, the two knights struggle onward.

Sir Gracian is sure that this is no normal storm (he gains a check in Awareness).  Movement is slowed to one-half normal.

What will the knights do?

OOC: The whetstone is relatively small, fitting comfortably in one hand.  It is by appearance little more than a rock.  Do either Sir Gracian or Sir Dalan sharpen their own blades?  What they know of the whetstone comes from a song they heard before departing London which simply noted that it would sharpen only a brave man's blade.  It must be powerful magic though if it is the only means of saving Sir Gawaine.

"We should try a different route," Sir Dalan tries to make himself heard above the storm. "We'll get nowhere this way!"

---

OOC: Sir Dalan does not sharpen his sword; it is for Sir Gawaine not himself!

"Indeed you are right." Sir Gracian tries to yell back. "I fear this storm is not natural but instead fueled by sorcery must foul. Perhaps Morgana La Fay is trying to prevent us return with the whetstone. We must hurry and find a different way ... no matter what happens you must reach the court of our King or else all is lost!"

---

OOC: I agree ... it is for Sir Gawaine and not for us. Now onwards! :D

The storm rages for three days without letup.  Although the pair try different routes, there is no relief.  Talking to other travelers they find that for them the storm has only just started, suggesting that it is localized somehow to the two knights from Salisbury.  Although they try to outrun the storm, it is slow going and they seem at best to only be making half their normal pace under the deluge.

Finally, after three days the storm suddenly lets up and they find themselves in beautiful spring weather.  Although it takes them several hours to dry out, they are once more making good time on their way to London.

They make it safely to Lambor Castle and head South on the King's Road.  A few days later, they arrive at Cirencester and head east toward London, only a handful of days away.  Soon after, they pass Silchester and know that a quick right would take them home to Salisbury.  How long has it been since they were home?  It seems like ages and they long to rest by the fire in their own manors.  But instead they press onward, for it is Sir Gawaine and the King who are depending on them now, regardless of how tired they are of riding throughout the day for weeks on end.

Now on familiar roads, they travel for some time before Sir Dalan suddenly realizes that they have not seen some of the landmarks that they should have seen.  In fact, they should be nearing Windsor Castle but it is nowhere in sight.  Looking around suspiciously, he can see a weird warping of the air when he moves his head back-and-forth.  Some sort of spell has been cast on them or the road and they are traveling in circles.  In fact, they are still at the crossroads that lead toward Salisbury.

Day 39

Free of the galmour, the knights begin to make good time once more, although it will be a tight thing getting to London in time.  After riding for another couple of hours, the knights suddenly hear a woman's cry.  Coming around a bend in the road, they see a dark-haired woman of about 15 being assaulted by five surly looking men with swords and bows.

"HALT YOU BRIGANDS!" the young knight cries out. It is pure instinct. Had he had time to think he would have used the element of surprise and charged the brigands at once. But he hadnt had time to think and now anger boils inside of him. "LET HER BE!"

Sir Dalan rides after his brother, trying to catch up, shouting to be heard. "WAIT BROTHER IT MAY BE A TRICK OF MORGANA'S!"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:30, Sat 02 Sept 2017.

Trick or no, the ruffians are real and seem to have no love of knights.  "Bugger off and leave real men to their play," one man shouts back.

Three of the men loose arrows at the two knights.  Although two whistle passed the mounted knights, the third ricochets off of Sir Gracian's armor.  Throwing the girl roughly to the ground, the other two face the knights with swords drawn.

With a mighty roar Sir Gracian draws his sword and charge the nearest brigand ignoring - or not hearing - Sir Dalan's warning.

Reluctantly Sir Dalan joins in the charge against the other brigand with a sword.

Seemingly surprised by the knights' charge, the archers flee into the woods, leaving the two sword-wielding brigands to swing ineffectually against the mounted knights, their blows going wide.  Sir Dalan and Sir Gracian, however, strike true.  Although the blows are light, they are enough to send the remaining brigands scurrying off for their lives into the thick undergrowth.

Sir Dalan, rolled 12 using 1d20.  Sword.
Sir Gracian, rolled 1 using 1d20.  Sword.
Brigand1, rolled 5 using 1d20.  Sword.
Brigand2, rolled 11 using 1d20.  Sword.
Sir Dalan, rolled 9 using 4d6+2.  Damage.
Sir Gracian, rolled 10 using 5d6.  Damage.
Brigand1 takes 9 - 4 = 5 damage and flees.  Brigand2 takes 10 - 4 = 6 damage and flees.

Returning to the young woman, they find that she has gotten back to her feet and has a bruise along the right side of her face where one of the brigands hit her.  "Good Sir knights, thank you for driving off those horrible men.  Goodness knows what they would have done to me if you had not happened along.  My name is Gilegra and I am trying to reach King Arthur to ask a boon of Merlin.  My father, an old friend of the Archdruid from the days of Vortigern, is very ill."

Looking around nervously she goes on, "I did not realize how dangerous this road was and I fear that more bandits lurk in these parts.  I beg you to allow me to accompany you as far along the road as you are going," she entreats.

"Fear not, young lady." says Sir Gracian with a smile. "Of course we will accompany you to the King's Court. I am Sir Gracian of Dinton and this is the noble Sir Dalan of Tisbury. Can you ride? If so then take one of my horses ... it is not much but at least it is more comfortable than walking."

Sir Dalan nods graciously at the rescued girl but is clearly already impatient to begin riding again - Sir Gawaine needs them!

"Onward my friend. Nothing can stop us now!" Sir Gracian laughs and spurs his horse.

Gilegra is able to ride the horse, with some instruction, although she does not seem used to riding.  Several hours later it is time to bed down for the night.

During the night, Sir Dalan is awakened by a soft shake.  Gilegra is standing over him and motioning him to follow her, "come with me, I have a secret message from Merlin," she whispers.  Her innocent, dark eyes fix on Sir Dalan.  Still half asleep, the confused knight follows her into the woods.

Once away from the camp, she explains, "Merlin is concerned about the treasure you carry.  He asked that I examine it to make sure that it is the correct treasure.  If it is, he will take steps to ensure that it makes it to London in time."

Sir Dalan is standing in the woods about one turn at a run from camp with neither weapons nor armor.  The whetstone is with his horse.  He is free to do as he pleases

Sir Dalan's eyes widened and he turned on the spot running back to his horse. "MY BROTHER AWAKE WE'VE BEEN TRICKED! SHE'S MORGANA!"

The woman lets out a shriek and Sir Dalan briefly glimpses a female clad in armor, swinging a sword at him as he dashes back toward the camp.  Gilegra's blade slices through the air in the place where Sir Dalan had just been.

Gilegra, rolled 14 using 1d20.  Sword.

Sir Gracian, who had stirred when Sir Dalan and Gilegra left camp (Awareness success, take a check in Awareness if you don't have one), looks around to see that his companion and the woman are missing.  He grabs his own sword as he sorts through the possibilities.  His musings are interrupted by Sir Dalan's screams, and shortly thereafter the sight of Sir Dalan running through the woods toward the camp with Gilegra, in armor, in hot pursuit.

Intercepting the woman, Sir Gracian swings wildly but Gilegra does no better.  Neither blow lands and the two face off as Sir Dalan fetches his own sword.

Sir Gracian, rolled 16 using 1d20.  Sword.
Gilegra, rolled 13 using 1d20.  Sword.

On his second attempt, Sir Gracian connects but Gilegra misses once more.  Sir Gracian's blow knocks the armored woman off of her feet.

Sir Gracian, rolled 3 using 1d20.  Sword.
Gilegra, rolled 18 using 1d20.  Sword.
Sir Gracian, rolled 14 using 5d6.  Damage.
Gilegra, rolled 13 using 1d20.  Dexterity.
Gilegra takes 14 - 6 = 8 damage and is knocked to the ground.

As Sir Dalan arrives, sword in hand, the two demand that Gilegra surrender but she spits at them and curses, attempting to rise and attack once more.  The two strike down on her and kill her.

Sir Gracian, rolled 5 using 1d20.  Sword.
Sir Dalan, rolled 2 using 1d20.  Sword.
Sir Gracian, rolled 16 using 5d6.  Damage.
Sir Dalan, rolled 18 using 4d6+2.  Damage.
Gilegra takes 16 - 6 = 10 and 18 - 6 = 12 damage for a total of 22.  She is dead.

While honorable knights generally don't fight women or hit grounded foes, Gilegra was neither a knight nor an honorable opponent, so we will just let it slide.  100 Glory each for killing a Raven Witch.  I am not giving Sir Dalan points in Trusting or Suspicious as he was placed under a spell.

As both knights have previously seen Morgan Le Fay, they are pretty sure that the dead woman at their feet is not her.  In the morning they depart in haste toward London once more.

Day 40

The pair journey onward, passing Windsor Castle in the afternoon and making decent time.  Close to sunset, Sir Gracian notices something in the road ahead.  Some movement by the side of the road.  Watching for a moment he realizes that there is an ambush ahead.  There are two archers on each side of the road, lying in wait for them.

Critical success on Awareness, add +1 to Awareness Sir Gracian.

You can either avoid the ambush or attack.  Because of Sir Gracian's keen eyesight, you think you can get the drop on them should you decide to attack.

Sir Gracian had been quiet ever since their nightly encounter. He felt like a fool for letting down his guards and almost failing in their quest. He was just about to apologise to his friend when he spotted the ambush. He signalled Sir Dalan to halt and whispered "I see two ambushers. I dont think they have spotted us yet. We could avoid the ambush but it would cost time."

"Then we best attack," Sir Dalan whispers back. A hint of a smile appears on his face. "I prefer to face mere mortals rather than witchcraft!"

"And I am sorry about that ..." Sir Gracian whispers  while drawing his sword "The witch and all that. I am too gullible ... well .. I take the right side and you take the left side."