A Tale of a Knight's Birth: The Journal of Jerico Gallen

[DJalin]

Okay I just figured I would put some of my feable writting out there for your enjoyment.

A cold wind passed the door into the Regal Griffon as he entered from the rains of Isinhold. Shaking the remnants of wet weather from his cloak he removed his hood to reveal the long red hair that was gifted him almost a year ago. So much of his life has changed since the fateful day Lady Firehair granted her gift to him.

Looking over the inn, he could see that the night was quiet. Not a frequent occurrence for the Regal Griffon. More often, one could find any number of travelers, villagers or adventurers there telling their tales of the day or enjoying an evening’s drink. One of those who came here for the great tales was a dear friend of his by the name of Dontalus Malebrand. Unfortunately it had been many weeks since he was last seen at Griffon spreading his unique form of joy to others.

Across the room he could see Kale Ogden, cleaning the counters and taking count of what he had in stock. Kale kept a good supply of drinks from around Cormyr. From the most common beers to the finest wines, the Regal Griffon has a drink for most any taste.

“Ah Sir Jerico, tis good to see you this evening.” Kale waved a greeting as he took notice of the young knight at the door. “Business has been slow this day. Interested in a warmed Honeyed Mead for you this night?”
Kale was already preparing the drink even before Jerico responded. “What news of he Knights of the Shield have you this day?”
Reaching for the small bag of coin he carried, Jerico pulled a few coin from it to pay for the drink that relaxed him for each days patrols. “The Patrols north of Redmist go well and the guards speak only speak of quiet nights at the gates.” Since Jerico first joined the Silver Shields he had taken upon himself to patrol the lands and aid any who were in need. A strong sense of guardianship he took over the lands and its people. It was the same feelings that lead him to enter a period as a squire for Lord Donavan and finally become a Knight of the Shield for the Silver Shields.

Placing a few coins on the counter in payment for his nightly drink, Kale held his hand to push it back. “No need Sir Jerico, you look tired and a good Honeyed Mead can often be hard to find. Tis on the house M’Lord.”
Smiling, Jerico took his drink and left the coin on the table, “Then find someone who has use for the coin. I have little need for it.”

After a change of attire, Jerico found himself comfortably seated by the fireplace. Another mug of warmed honeyed mead waited for him there. Relaxing, Jerico let his thoughts wander as he listened to the music played by Biedello, the Inn’s minstrel. He remembered a time where a small boy learned the life of a farmer.

(To be Continued)

[DJalin]

The warmed honey sweetened mead slowly pushed the chill of the Isinhold rains from his body.  Closing his eyes briefly, he allowed himself to see the vision of the one who warmed his heart.  Her beauty was deep and shined as the brightest star to Jerico.

Opening his eyes he looked into the fire.  Good memories, those that he now made and some he had in a long past.   A farm boy he once was.  A farm boy with dreams that were grand in scale, but those dreams had little chance of making reality.  He had his chores...

Chores....  Duty....

Looking back now he sees little difference in the two.

::Jerico makes entry into journal::
My father, Josua Gallen, lived a life filled with little adventure.  I think he owned the ranch near Ashabenford.  In all my life I have never known a harder working man.  Perhaps it is his hard work that leads me now to protect those who choose not to or cannot protect themselves.   Before the break of dawn he would raise me, I was his little warrior then, and have me join the early feeding of the animals.  I remember how strong his hands were and how hard they were.  But never did I see his hands raised in anger or violence.   I can also remember the smell of fresh bread in the morning.  My mother, Saisa was already up as well, tending to her chores for the day.

She was always busy, from the time father and I left to the twilight of the setting sun when we returned to the house after a days work.  She made the house a home and kept us well feed.  And when I came home with a bump or a bruise, she would tend to me with hands that never failed to ease the pain I was in.

My parents both worked hard to tend to the farm and they both made sure I had my share of work.  I was often set to feed the animals or mend broken fences.  But even with all the work I was to do as a child I still had time to dream.  And those dreams came from one I was very fond of.  My Grandfather Jeremy Gallen.

Though he never seamed to stay at the ranch long, every time he returned he brought with him the tales of heroes and their quests in the lands.  I longed for his stories and enjoyed much time acting out the quests of heroes.  Long after his passing, I still became a Knight who worked to benifit the people of the lands.  How simple a boys imagination is.  Now that I live the life of a little boys dreams, I realize that it isn’t an easy task.

The little boy had a life that is a dream to me now.  And his life was filled with enough joy and love to last a lifetime.

Taking a sip from the cooling honey mead Jerico takes time to look into the fire...


::Jerico makes entry into journal::
Fire....  Fire took all this from me.


It was a late night when I felt the first touch of the flames kiss.  It embraced me as warm blanket at first until its grip awakened every part of my skin.  The pain was but and instant.  It came in a burst of intensity then left as quickly as it all my sensed shut off.  I barely remember getting out of there, but what I do remember is hearing the walls of the home fall and crackle.   I awoke much time later to see ruins.  All was lost, the house and all in it.  Lose....  If you have never lost anything dear to you then you can never truly understand it.  My parents were gone and with them all I had.

A hero’s heart came to me that day.  If it had not, I would have fallen in grief and died myself.  Pulling together what I could from the ruins, to include a small burnt book my Grandfather gave me, I began the trip to Ashabenford.  There I hoped to find someone my parents knew and let them know what had occurred.  Though the journey was difficult for one of my age at the time I completed it.  Completed it to the further horror of my life.

Changes, life can change and mold you if you let it.  Either you let it strengthen you or let it destroy you.  And this part of my life nearly destroyed me.

Ashabenford, I had traveled there a few times with my father Josua.  Once a season we would travel there to trade for goods needed.  Now I traveled there to seek help in my lose. But I had not realized what the fires of my life’s destruction had done for me. 

Monster was what I heard as the few people in the streets came into view.  Each of them running from me in fear.  Fear of what I had become.  Stopping to look into a small pool of water, the monster I had become came into focus.  The fires had indeed touched every part of my body and left me horribly scarred.   My hair was in patches and my face wasn’t even noticeable as human.  I remember now the pain of the fire and its touch.  A touch that now ran deeper to my very soul.  The heroes’ heart that brought me here broke at that moment and I fell in tears.

Leaving Ashabenford I then began a life in the shadows of others lives.  I gathered food where I could, lived in barns and watched as the children of Ashabenford lived full lives.  The joy the children had in each day filled me.  And once again the Hero in me returned.  My life became the hero that my Grandfather often spoke of.  I imagined coming to the rescue of the people who lived here.  This is how each day passed.  New challenges and new adventures.

This continued until one day, the challenge was real.  The sight shocked me at first.  A man or what looked as a man, cam upon a mother and her daughter while they were tending a garden.  He came upon them before either of them could even react.  He grabbed the lady and threw here across the ground and then reached for the child.  Anger grew in me as I watched the scene unfold.  The little girls mother was not moving and the beast before her was laughing as the she cried out in fear.  Pulling a small blade I carried, I ran to the back of the beast.  Closing my eyes I leaped with the knife out forward.  It fell from my hand as I felt a huge arm strike my side and I heard a inhuman cry of pain.  Looking up I saw the beast up close.  The girl was away and I was sure she would be safe.  Pushing back across the ground I hoped to make a run from the beast, but he fell toward me and on me.... in death.

Slowly I pushed the beast to the side.  I have saved a life as those in my Grandfather’s stories.  Gaining my footing, I looked to see the girl’s mother had gained hers as well.  It was not thanks that I received for my deed, but a horrified cry of monster and a call for the guards of Ashabenford.

I left Ashabenford that day and never looked back.

[Zilan Mandel]

Nicely done! I enjoyed that story, very emotional. I like that his dream came true in the end

[DJalin]

Looking back over his shoulder, Jerico could see that a few travelers had entered the Regal Griffon. They looked to enjoy the company of each other as they laughed and drank. Friendship, something he didn’t have but one of in his youth after the fire.

Turning back to his Honeyed Mead he noticed that his flask was empty.

Closing his book he walked over to the bar to see if Kale could fix another for him. As he approached, Kale placed another flask on the bar. “Don’t concern yourself Sir Jerico, your last pouch of coin paid the price for this.”<br>
Friends, Jerico had many now. But he never knew who they were friends with. Was it the Jerico that Sune created for others to see or was it the Jerico that had always been there inside of him.

Returning to his place by the fire, Jerico picked up that journal he had started writing his life in. So much of his life was not in the small bound pages. But so few pages it took.

Taking a sip of the warmed Honeyed Mead, he at and opened to the page he had left off. Friendship was on his mind and the greatest friend he as ever had was the next to find its place in his life…<br>
:Jerico begins journal entry:

It was by a small stream that I remember his approach. Up to this point in my life I have learned to stay distant from others. Their reaction to my appearance always gave them fear and caused them to drive me away.

I sat by the stream with a cloak covering my head and most of my body. There I sat reading what was left of a book my Grandfather had given me. The book was titled a "A Knight's Honor". Unfortunately most of the book was lost in the fire and the last chapters were gone. But the rest of it I knew by heart.

And so this boy approached me and boldly asked my name. Taking a glance behind me I could see what looked as child of nobility. Thinking that another was sent to play their jokes on me I turned back to my book.

I am glad for his persistence, for even as I ignored his advances he continued to ask questions. After asking about the book I was reading, he left.

The next day I found myself again sitting by the stream reading the same book. As I sat and enjoyed what little of the book I could read, I heard the noble boy calling to me again. This time he was telling me that I had to read the ending of the book. He then gave to me and undamaged version of the very book I held in my hands and introduced himself as Dontalus Malebrand.

From that day on, the two of us enjoyed travels and adventures. Never once did Dontalus speak of the scars that marked me. This was a time that brought joy for me. Dontalus and I shared many days together in the lands saving damsels in distress and facing the humanoids that threatened the villages. To the limits of our imagination we traveled and I almost forgot that I was a monster to most.

It was several years later that this time in my life was to end. Dontalus, now a tall well framed young man, came to me and asked for me to go on a real adventure with him. He had plans to travel south into Cormyr.

Change had never set well in my life and a trip to Cormyr unsettle me greatly. And so I watched as my greatest friend left on the road to the lands of Cormyr and the city of Arabel. I could feel the pain grow in me as I felt his loss.

My grandfather, my parents, my life and now my friend all gone. And fires kiss was to blame for all.

It was a few days later that the pain had become to much and I finally left to join Dontalus and his adventure. Finding him was my next challenge.

:Jerico Stops Entry into Journal:

Looking up from his journal Jerico once again looks into the fireplace before him. It was late and the flames had already dwindled into embers with little heat to offer. But in the embers he could still see the fire that was within.

Once again fire would change his life….

[DJalin]

Looking back to his journal, Jerico reads over the last passages.  So many paths he could have taken, so many choices he could have made that would have given his life different meaning. 

If he had not been strong enough to travel to Ashabenford...
If he had not stopped by the stream to read...
If he has left with Dontalus...
If he had left to find Dontalus...

So many of his choices dealt with his one true friend, Dontalus Malebrand.

Reaching for the flask that now held the cooling honeyed mead; he took the last swallow of what was left.  Clearing his mind he let the memories of  that fateful day come into view.  A shiver ran the course of his body.

Taking quill to hand he began to write again.

:Jerico makes entry into Journal:

More than a few days had passed since I began my search for Dontalus.  I had decided to travel along Moonsea Ride toward Tilverton.  Never had I seen either location nor had I heard of them.  But as Dontalus would say,” what good is an adventure unless you are learning a new place”.

There were a few travelers I can remember along the road to Tilverton, but I just held my cloak close and greeted as few as possible.  It was late on the thirds day I believe...

Late that day I saw the smoke in the distance.  Curious of what caused it, I made my way in the direction of the smoke.  As the distance grew shorter I heard cried of pain and terror.  Then the word that brought memories of lose to me, FIRE...

Quickening my pace to a run, I came to what looked as a large temple lost in flames.   A few of the priests and priestesses were located just outside of the temple.  Some of them collapsed, some looked burned and other looked in horror at the flames.  Although screams came from the interior of the temple, none moved to aid the cried of desperation.

Knowing the kiss of the flame and the experience of pain, I at first pulled back from the seen.  But a growing courage filled me and I turned to face the inferno.  Stopping only to douse my cloak in the water bucket of a well, I ran past those who stared into the red blaze and into its heart.  The first touch was the hardest to take.  But the memories of my own past with it aided me.  The pain faded as I knew my goal.  No one would die in this fire.

Priests, Priestesses and followers where all about the inside of the temple, each hiding from the touch of the fire.  Each one I covered in the protection of my cloak and guided to an exit.  In all there were seven who I pulled from the ruined temple that day.  And as I entered the fire for each one the pain lessoned and my courage grew.  I was saving lives.

As the last of the victims of the fire where pulled from the fallen temple, I did not wish to face them with the horror that was my appearance.  Laying the last of them on safe ground, I left the temple and its survivors to find a place to rest.

My lounges felt full and stiff, and my skin was crisp.  How I carried myself to the shore of a small brook I do not know but I did.  I felt no pain, but I knew that my life was fading.  As I leaned forward to take a sip from the brook, I stopped to see myself.

In that moment I saw who I was inside, the hero from the cover of my book.  I had become what I had always dreamed I would be.

Rolling back to look into the sky, my eyes grew cloudy and my breath short.  Peace fell upon me as I knew I had made a difference even if I was a monster.

It was as I felt my spirit lift that the sweetest of voices came to me.

“My Dear pure hearted Jerico.  Do you know what you have done this day?”

[DJalin]

Sitting back and looking once again into the fire place before him, Jerico to a moment to reflect on the changes that came upon him that day. So many changes his life had seen. Aye, today he stood a Knight of the Silver Shields, but if not for this very encounter his life would be without its path.

Swalling the last of the warmed honeyed mead, Jerico returned to his journal to put his memories of Lady Sune into words...

The voice that sang not only to my ears sang into my very soul. Such beauty one should not hear in ones lifetime. But it was as I opened my eyes that the true vision of beauty came to me. Milky white skin with hair the color of red fire greated my eyes in their opening. The only expenation I had for the vision was my death and an angel of mercy to carry me from this plan. I remember well my words..

"Am I dead, are you hear to take me?"

The Firehaired Angel spoke to me as if in song, "My dear Jerico, you are far from it. You are reborn. This day you have sacrificed your onw self for the safety of my followers. I am Sune, Godess of beauty and those you saved from harm this day are my clergy. The pureness and beauty in your heart saved them from harm. And for this I grant you the beauty you carry within to be shown for all those to see outside."

No words came to my mouth. I could only look upon her in complete awe as she spoke.

"My Jerico, you have shown a quality many in the lands have not. Beauty within and a love of life and others. The beauty I give you is not without cost. You are now a protector of the beauty of the lands and its people. You will now serve as a Paladin of mine."

With that the voice faded and the vision that held his attention left. Released from the hold her beauty had on me, I turned to look into the stream that I lie beside. The reflection returned was a surprise. Gone were the scars that marked much of my youth. Even the golden hair that once covered the undamaged part of the head changed. Before me was the man I had always though I could be. A Hero.

Hair red as the Fires light and skin darkened by this suns kiss. I was no longer the monster that others turned from. I was a man.

Rising from the stream, I turned and knelt beside it. "Lady Firehair, you have granted a gift for which I can never repay. My life and service will be to those of the lands and its beauty."

"My lady, Guide me."

[DJalin]

Two seasons past as I worked with the faithful of Sune to rebuild the temple destroyed by fire. It was during this time that I learned much of the ways of the Sunites and how to live with the new beauty Lady Firehair had given me.

The faithful I had saved and now worked with loved all the beauty of the lands. Everyday they found reason to celebrate its gift to the lands. I have never seen a people so happy in the life they lived. From celebrations of the flesh to unmistakable beauty of the lands, they celebrated and loved all. One priestess is remembered fondly in my heart, the Lady Jesabel. She spent much time with me insuring that I understood why the faithful gave much reverence to the beauty in everything. She also showed much amazement in the gift of inner beauty bestowed upon me. Often she would tell me that great things were ahead of me and that the lands were in need of a hero whose actions spoke louder than his voice.

Lady Jesabel once asked me if the celebrations of the faithful were where I felt my path lay. I then told her that even though I felt the celebrations of beauty good for them and the lands, I did not feel it a part of me. Lady Jesabel then set a new path before me and told me of those who serve to protect the beauty in the lands, the Paladin of Sune. She then introduced me to Lord Coren of the Protectors, my mentor and friend.

Lord Coren trained me in the skills of a Protector of Sune as well as the path set for those chosen as Protectors. Long days and nights I spent improving my skills as one of the faithful to Lady Firehair and in the restful times Lord Coren taught me the path of duty, honor and service. He taught me that those who served protect the lands often did not celebrate it with others of the faithful, instead the dedicated their lives to the preservation if it and all touched by it.

Another season passed under his service. His kindness and honor helped form my life and give me a greater cause. Although I did wish to stay longer, there was a friend I missed and wished to rejoin.

It was time again to begin my search for Dontalus Malebrande.

[DJalin]

Sitting at his desk in the keep of the Silver Shield, Jerico notices the journal he once began writting his life in. To long its pages sat without new words added to it.

Pulling a quill and fresh in he opened the pages and read to remember where he left off in his life. A smile passed his lips as he remember Lord Coren and Lady Jesabel of the Sunite temple. The work and training he gained there serve him well in in this time. But is was after this time the a great city comes to his mind, Arabel.

Putting quill to paper he enters his time there.

It was but a short journey to the city of Arabel. I can remember my parents speaking of it and its greatness. I had hoped to find Dontalus there seeking his fortune. What I found was a city in ruins and a war with an enemy the had no mercy to any life. It was here that I learned the need in Cormyr and promised to protect her and the beauty of the lands.

Arabel, here I joined the wall guards. My task was to keep what was happening inside the walls from getting out. It was a strange feeling. So many times I had traveled to cites with my parents as a young boy and spoke with the guards who protected the city core from the outside. Now I served to keep the war inside the city from getting outside.

Two seasons I served with the Guards, and in that time I watched many friends die.

Taking a few minutes to think, Jerico remembers all the lives her served with and the losses of them.

Torin Gefer, Roderick Bain, Shanta Meris and many others whom I was unable to get to know more personally.

So many faces, and many friends, lost in the battles there.

Pushing back from his desk, Jerico wipes his eyes as he remember those lost in Arabel. If not for them and others he would be buried with the dead of Arabel, in the graves of hte Sullon Fallen.

It was when a refugee spoke of a hero by the name of Dontalus Malebrande that I chose to leave the battles of Arabel. I was told then that Dontalus had traveled this way and was headed toward a small village named Isinhold.

His name brought back many a memory of good times and a friend that always looked at the inside of me. I spent the night reading over the book "A Knight's Honor". It was time for me to find Dontalus. Our future was still before us.

So my time as a Guard at Arabel came to an end and my journey to Isinhold began.

[DJalin]

Comments on the story are welcome.

I will add to it as soon as I get my computer back.

DJ

[DJalin]

Sitting toward the back in the lounge of the Shield Keep, Jerico listened to the calming melodies of the harp being played. Simple times often eluded him in these days. The demands of the Crowns army, the rise of Banites, Cyricists and other cults and the cries of the populace held his attention.

Opening his eyes as he heard the an approach, Jerico notices Fran bringing a slice of chocolate for him. Many times his lady, Sharita, had told him of the relaxing feeling the cake had on a long day. He had hoped it would do the same for him.

Opening his journal to the last place he left, he remembers Arabel and his wish to assist the lands even then, as a Protector and Guardian.

Smiling to Fran as she quietly placed the cake before him and walked away, he inked his quill and once again placed his life on paper.

Leaving the Guard at Arabel was a difficult task. I recall the strain on my inner self and the wish to continue to assist those Knights who so willingly risked all in the service of others.

But I had begun this journey to find a friend, Dontalus Malebrand. A childhood we both shared of Knight, heroes and deeds well done in the service of others. And I held true to the fact I would find him.

From the battle lines of Arabel I was able to afford travel on a supply wagon returning to Immersea. I had learned that an open Temple to my Lady stood their with waters from her tears for the lands constantly besieged. My short stay in Immersea strengthened my bond with Lady Sune and my course to protect the lands from harm. It was in these waters I was able to cleanse myself of the evil I had seen in Arabel. The Priest told me the the waters were healing to some and I would be welcome there to cleanse myself whenever the need arose.

From Immersea, I was able to gain passage on a Caravan to Suzail. I had heard it was a large city full of life and beauty. It was also the seat of the Crowns power in Cormyr and the Base for some of the most known Knights in the lands, The Purple Dragon Knights.

(cont)