It was already late in the morning when he reached the stone ring. The sun was shining, though it was still a bit cold, especially here at the cliffs. A strong wind made his cloak dance in the air, but was unable to penetrate the thick metal plates of his armor. His horse was tired, as was he, from days of travelling on old roads. He should be further east, he told himself, seeking the enemies of Albion, which he had sworn to protect and had seen crumbling stone by stone in the events after the death of King Arthur. How could this happen, he asked, over and over again. The only man who dared to unite the realms, and now his legacy was a land in chaos. He assured himself of the presence of his sword at his side, and made his horse walk a bit faster. Hopefully he would find the ones he was looking for, and that they would allow him to join them in their endeavours...
As he approached the crossing, he took the right path leading into a small wood. The barkeeper in the "Dancing Squire" gave him the directions to the keep, but he was not sure that it would lead him into a trap of some brigands or really to the place he was looking for so long. Giant trees, with great strength they stood here for hundreds of years, and probably will even longer after I am buried in my grave, he thought. He liked the woods. In his childhood he played hide and seek with his brother and sister, and his father was sent out to look for them when they did not manage to be at home for lunch. These were splendid times, full of joy and laughter. His older brother was dead by now, as was his father, both killed in the war against Midgard. He did not know where his sister was, but he planned on finding her after his mission was succesfull and he had joined the Order.
The sun blinded him a bit as he left the small wood and discovered a waymark some feet in front of him. As he came closer he read the words "Stormfront Keep, 5 miles" inscribed on the stone. At last, he thought, in a few minutes I will know if my voyage was worth the efforts. Some months ago, as he heard from the death of his king, he was commanding a detachment of knights on the border to Midgard. He realized very soon that the realm would encounter its greatest challenge since the founding. Many battles he fought, but the numbers of his soldiers decreased with each passing day. At last he could not protect the border fort any more from the invading troops, and so he instructed the remaining soldiers to spread to the four winds and try to make their way home. He, instead, wanted to travel to Stormfront Keep, as he had heard of an order of knights which was assembling troops to built a new army, capable of protecting the realm of Albion and may be even restore the former glory of Camelot.
Before he saw the keep itself, the smell of sea and the taste of salt from the nearby ocean made him breath deeply. Then the fortress came into view, with some small houses surrounding it. Banners of the family which hosted the order could be seen on top of the towers, and half a dozen guards where out on the bridge, guarding the only entrance.
He made his horse walk further along the small path that lead down to the little hamlet, where many citizens where hurrying around to gather provisions and goods, loading them on some carts and moving into the keep. There seemed to be some war preparations going on around here, he realized. So he had come to the right place...
As he approached the bridge, a knight in shining golden armor came towards him, his white cloak flowing in the wind, a bunch of guards having problems to follow him. The leader spoke "Sir, what is it that you seek here in this remote region of Albion ? Declare yourself."
"I am searching for the order that claims the heritage of Albion, to defend the borders, to restore the glory. And who are you, sir ?"
The knight said "My name is Arakonn, and I am the grandmaster of the Nova Militia Templaris. Stay with us, brother, and we might put your sword to good use. Let us see if you are worthy of our virtues."
With that his quest might have ended, though greater perils lay ahead which would take him far away, beyond the borders of Albion...
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