KotBS Epilogue Thread

[arthurtuxedo]

The chaos following the failed arrest attempt and aborted coup is total. No one knows who stands on which side, and who can be trusted. No one knows whether the time is right to reveal their allegiances. A deathly quiet settles over Dunsburough, pregnant with suspicion and paranoia. Even the owls seem to hoot more softly these days. And everyone senses that the mortuary silence could erupt into a torrent of violence at any moment.

In recognition for his extraordinary deeds in service to the kingdom, Velkan is knighted in a formal ceremony, becoming the kingdom's youngest knight. He is granted the fiefdom of Oxdale, a township larger and more prosperous than even some Lords possess. But all is not merry for our young knight, as the other knights hold him in contempt, his youth making him unworthy in their eyes of holding such a lofty title and such extensive holdings. Young Sir Velkan will need to work hard to earn the respect of his peers.

Conrad and Cassandra in turn are given medals of heroism and granted small plots of land near Oxdale that are on farmable land that has not yet been exploited.

(You guys can finish the epilogue for your characters. Write whatever you like, just don't extend it too far into the future.)

[Fatalis Prime]

Oxdale Cemetery, Dunsborough

The mid-summer day was warm, but not uncomfortably so. The sun was already high in the sky, shining brightly; it's brilliant light tempered by thick, puffy clouds that dotted the vivid blue sky like cotton balls. The air was filled with the songs of nature -- birds, insects, amphibians -- and the sweet scent of blooming flowers and ripened fruit. It was, altogether, in stark contrast to how Sir Velkan Langard felt inside; a bitter irony that was not at all lost on him. In his mind, a dreary, overcast, rain-soaked day would have been more appropriate. One like the morning he had first arrived in Oxdale to to officially inherit his new fiefdom.

Standing before the fresh grave of his late predecessor, Velkan lost his composure and fell to his knees. The moist soil marring his gleaming armor. "I'm sorry, Father," he wept. "I'm so sorry, my lord!"

Sir Geofferey Langard had been posthumously absolved of his crimes. His body, among others, exhumed from the mass grave at Sargondt and returned to Oxdale for a proper, honorable burial. Sir Langard had been interred next to his long-deceased wife while the half-mad hobbit Hill, Le Tharget and his unfortunate band were buried in the plot reserved for fallen soldiers. The dwarf Mebzuth, disgraced in life, was a hero in death. His bones and ashes returned to the Omristezars in Thane, where songs were sure to be sung in his honor.

"It's not your fault lad," Said Father Barlow, Oxdale's vicar. The priest had been Velkan's mentor for years, both in matters of spirit and in medicine. He laid gentle hands on the knight's steel pauldrons. "You did what you could the best you knew how. I'm sure your father would-"

"You don't understand!" Velkan cried, shrugging him off. "I should have done better. I should have KNOWN better! He died because of me!" He swung a mailed arm in the direction of the other new graves. "They all died because of me. Not once did I walk the correct path, the True Path."

"But you tried," said Barlow.

"No, I didn't. I really didn't. I never cared to. Not really. I never cared about the hobgoblins. Or Ramelob. And I've come to hate this miserable country. All I wanted was to make him proud. To make him happy. You know the tale better than I. He never had a son of his own. He never even had a daughter. And when his wife fell to the plague, he ceased to try. He took me in out of duty and obligation, and what was his reward? A noose about the neck!"

"His reward is in Heaven, Velkan. In the favored presence of Jekalla Himself. And it is eternal, unlike anything in this dying world."

Velkan ignored him. To say his faith had been shaken would be an understatement. "After I heard about his death, two things kept me going. The first was a vain hope that it was all a lie, a traitor's ploy to dash our spirits. The second was an utterly ignoble thirst for revenge. I didn't do it for Dunsborough and I certainly didn't do it for the king. I did it to share some measure of my pain with those responsible. To Kraylen, to Tallbrook and everyone else. And I did it because I hoped Father would have wanted it."

"Of that I have no doubt."

"Truly? Look well at what I've wrought, Vicar. Look at the innocent blood I've spilled, and without hesitation. Look well at what's become of this country! Dunsborough falters on the brink of war. Not with Ramelob, but with herself. Would he have wanted that? Frederick I was an usurper himself. Is his son's claim to the throne really more legitimate than Tallbrook's?"

"You're distraught," said Barlow. "Understandably so. The whole town mourns your father's passing, myself included. But we're also looking to our new liege to be a beacon of strength and hope in these dark times. You cannot afford to wallow in doubt and regret, my lord. It serves no purpose but to keep your wounds fresh and your path dark."

Velkan was silent for a long time. Barlow knew that to be a sign of agreement. But he didn't move. He remained on his knees, staring at the pair of headstones before him. "I never knew her," he said at last. "What was she like? He never spoke of her."

"Your mother was a kind, generous and pious woman. She was much loved by everyone."

"My mother..." Velkan tested the words with his own tongue. In all his years, he had never thought of Hyacinth Langard as his mother, only his father's wife. Then again, he never thought of his birth mother at all. The knowledge that he killed her coming out was best not reflected on.

By blood, Velkan was the son of a soldier named Onslow, who had died in battle defending Sir Geofferey. His dying request was for the knight to take care of his pregnant wife Bethany. When Bethany died in childbirth, Geofferey, without an heir of his own, adopted the infant boy.

"Yes," Barlow confirmed. "While the bloodline is dead, the name is not, its legacy lives on through memory and deed. Wear the name well, Sir Velkan Langard."

Banquet Hall, Langard Manor

Two Days Later

The fair weather didn't hold, and one of the frequent thunderstorms raged outside the keep. In the distance, lightning flashed and rolling thunder reverberated across the sky. Strong winds drove the heavy rain against the banquet hall's windows in horizontal sheets. But again, all in stark contrast to how Sir Velkan Langard felt inside. This time however, the irony was amusing in the conventional sense. He was in his best humor in a long time. This in spite of the looming Dunsborough Civil War. If the fighting hadn't already broken out, it would be soon. Still, he knew what side he was on, and was overjoyed (not to mention relieved) to find Sirs Blake and Froderick among the Loyalists, as they were becoming known.

"Kingsvale is secure, more or less," Blake pointed to the capital city on the map spread over the table. "Mostly because it hasn't been contested since the start of the troubles."

Sir Froderick explained. "Since the, ah, news, most of the nobility on both sides have withdrawn to their respective holdings to wait and make ready. Count Meklin wants to take advantage of the lull and strengthen our presence in the Royal Duchy. And I'm inclined to agree." Froderick's lord, Count Meklin, had also been a victim of Tallbrook's ruse, despite his rank. With the Knights of the Broken Sceptre farce exposed for what it was, he swiftly re-declared his allegiance to Frederick II.

"How are things down south?" Velkan asked Froderick.

"The hobgoblin attacks have ceased," answered Froderick. "Not surprising, since their support dried up almost overnight. Meadowgrass has a new, Loyalist lord, so the borderlands aren't a problem."

"What about Ramelob?"

"That situation is a little more complicated. It seems we've traded one set of tensions for another. Officially, they have declared their support for King Frederick and denounced the Tallbrook rebellion."

"Can we get their support?" Asked Velkan, hopefully.

"Are you sure we want it?" Countered Blake.

Froderick nodded in agreement. "They may try to exploit the situation. It will be all we can do to keep them out of Dunsborough on the argument that this is a domestic problem. Granted, that's a pretty shaky argument as Tallbrook all but attacked them. And if things go from bad to worse, that argument will only get weaker."

"The Church of Jekalla?" Velkan asked with a sigh, he dreaded the answer.

"An absolute mess," Blake confirmed. "Both sides have a theological claim for the throne," he admitted. "While Frederick I made sure he was granted divine providence, Tallbrook is closer to the old royal family. The upper ranks of the clergy are equally torn for political reasons."

"Thane?"

"Nothing yet." That answer was unsurprising. How the dwarves would react to the troubles was anyone's guess. If indeed they would react at all.

"The Gelds?"

"That's actually where you come in," smiled Blake. "They hate Tallbrook and his followers slightly more than they hate the rest of us. My lord thinks that if you were to lead a cadre into the Highlands to mend fences, kill ogres and nurse that resentment, it would go a long way toward having them on board."

"Not to mention further proving yourself," added Froderick.

"I'll make ready to leave immediately," Velkan stood and saluted the other knights.

Blake returned the salute and nodded. "That would probably be best. This could boil over any day now, if it hasn't already. The Highlanders could make a big difference." With that, he turned and left, followed by Sir Froderick and the squires of both knights.

"My orders, sir?" Asked Conrad, having stood silently throughout the entire meeting.

"Don't you have a farm to build, Captain?"

Conrad shrugged, one shoulder going higher than the other. "Not if you've got something better for me to do."

"I could definitely use your help," Velkan admitted. "Though you've already served me enough for a dozen lifetimes. "I leave it to your discretion, Conrad. I also need someone to mind the keep while I'm away, if you'd rather do that. Of course, you're also free to retire and pursue your whims. As I said, it's your choice. Think on it. I'm going to the stables to make Cassandra a similar offer."

[Gerard_Paloma]

Amazing work, FP! Great job. I love the way you set me up for Conrad's epilogue there at the end.

I'll work on that tonight, I can't think when I'm at work.

Once again, fantastic work. It never ceases to amaze me how deep some of these epilogues can get.

[Fatalis Prime]

Thanks! I hope I didn't go overboard and pigeonhole the setting. I specifically tried not to.

[Hawkwings]

As soon as they returned and all the festivities were mostly finished, Cassandra slipped away to be alone. Half an hour's walking brought her to the edge of the forest, already dark and foreboding in the fading light. She looked around, saw that nobody was visible, then stepped into the trees and a world of seclusion.

There was a small cave near a rock formation where Cassie often went to think. She went there now, guided by the familiar landmarks and her own sense of direction. Everything here was as it should be, as it always was, except for her.

It was quickly getting darker. The sun had gone over the horizon, but the warm air, trapped under the canopy of trees, kept the evening comfortable. Another hour of travel brought Cassie to the small campsite in front of the cave mouth. The firepit and ashes looked undisturbed, which meant that still nobody had discovered this place. It wasn't much of a surprise to her, as she had been coming here for over half her life, and never seen signs of anyone else this deep in the forest. She wasn't hungry and the night wasn't cold, so she skipped the fire and went into the cave.

She brushed past the tarp that kept the weather outside, and arrived in the main chamber of the cave. It wasn't much of a chamber, barely tall enough to stand or lay down in, but it was cozy and quiet. Cassie retrieved the sack hidden in a corner and pulled out the bedroll and rations. She was still full from the feast just a few hours before, so she just dropped in the newer biscuits she brought along and started unrolling the bedding.

A small book revealed itself in the rolled-up cloth. Cassie smiled and picked it up. She riffled through the pages, revealing the drawings, writing that progressed from messy to small and neat, and then blank sheets. It felt like a good time to read through some of it. Maybe she would start a fire tonight.

A few minutes later, Cassie was sitting in front of a small trim flame, book open. The words on the page were familiar, yet so far distant, as if written about an almost-forgotten friend. She arrived at a page showing a sketch of the campsite, complete with a figure sitting at a fire. She had a sudden urge to build up the fire a bit and sit like the figure was sitting, to match the drawing, but the feeling passed moments later. She continued skimming the pages, and finally arrived at the last one before the writing stopped. One phrase caught her eye, "I want to go away and do something important."

Cassie let herself laugh a bit after reading that, but it was an ironic laugh, almost bitter. That girl wanted to go out and do great things. Well, she did, and now she was right back where she started, except this time, there was nothing left to do. She had helped save the King, reveal a traitor, avoided a war, helped start another one, and all for what? She had a little medal and a little land and a lot of memories, most of them unpleasant. And some new friends, some of them already passed away. But Conrad was still here. He was a good person to have as a friend. Tough, loyal, honest and direct. He reminded Cassie of her father, almost. And of course, the new Knight and Master of Oxdale, Velkan.

A sound off to her side caught her attention. For a split-second, she was sure it was Velkan, back from scouting the area around the campsite, or any other of a dozen chores that he had done when they camped out in the weeks past. He was always dutiful in his camp chores, not at all like other nobility who might have passed them off or simply ignored them. And he was humble about himself too, not to mention brave and-

Cassie caught herself thinking about Velkan again. She had done so with increasing frequency in the past week, and although it wasn't hard to figure out why, she didn't want to admit it to herself. It would only end in tears. Besides, he owned all of Oxdale now, and she was still basically a peasant girl. He had to keep up appearances for the other royals after all, and that meant he'd be the prime target for all those prissy, spoiled noble daughters in the court.

And there was the other subject she didn't want to think about. Cassie slammed the book shut and was sorely tempted to throw it into the fire, but she restrained herself and instead stood up and went looking for the stream.

A few minutes and a cold splash of water later, Cassie felt a little better, but also a little disappointed in herself. Since when were there things that were off-limit to her own mind? She sat there for a long time, looking for an answer and not finding one. After a while, Cassie decided to approach the problem in a different way. She took out the little block of dried ink attached to the book, wet it with some stream water, and went back to the fire. She built it up some more, then took out the little pencil and started to write.

-----

Cassie felt much better after writing her thoughts down the previous night, and waking up in comfortable and familiar surroundings. She ate a bit of breakfast and tidied up the campsite, then headed back out of the forest and towards civilization.

She arrived back at her old room near the stables just after sunrise. Nova was there in his regular place, waiting for her. She crouched down to give him a hug, but he suddenly opened his eyes, jumped up, and licked her face. Cassie laughed and said "Come on, let's go to the stables and say hi to our friends."

[Gerard_Paloma]

Conrad stood and listened in silence. He heard the words, but didn't put much thought into them. He wasn't a politician, nor a noble. The wrangling of both meant little to him, and he cared nothing for the outcomes so long as the ones closest to him were safe and sound. After what seemed like an eternity, the others left, and Conrad approached the new Lord of Oxdale.

"My orders, sir?"

Velkan turned to him and smiled slyly. "Don't you have a farm to build, Captain?"

Conrad shrugged a shoulder. "Not if you've got something better for me to do."

"I could definitely use your help, though you've already served me enough for a dozen lifetimes. I leave it to your discretion, Conrad. I also need someone to mind the keep while I'm away, if you'd rather do that. Of course, you're also free to retire and pursue your whims. As I said, it's your choice. Think on it. I'm going to the stables to make Cassandra a similar offer."

Conrad nodded, and saluted as Velkan turned on his heel and exited the Hall. His chest heaved with a great sigh. For a moment, he imagined himself tending a farm: managing the livestock, picking crops, perhaps even finding a lady to help around the house. Conrad chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all.

He was no farmer. Neither was he one to oversee the keep while Velkan was off fighting for the kingdom. Conrad was a soldier, and always would be. Retirement was for old men, or dead ones.

The sudden twinge in his left shoulder reminded Conrad that he wasn't getting any younger. He had faced death a thousand times, and laughed at the reaper each time. When would the joke finally be on him?

Conrad inhaled deeply, and then slowly exhaled. He squared his jaw and strode out of the Hall to find Velkan. He was no farmer.

[Gerard_Paloma]

Fantastic work, Hawkwings! These epilogues are awesome.

[arthurtuxedo]

Yes, the epilogues are great. We should definitely do a sequel campaign someday.

[Fatalis Prime]

Looking forward to it. Well written, you guys!