A Royal Reward and a Challenge

Dear diary,
 
After joining the Circle of the Briar Ring, Alistan and I tried to convince Gael to join us for a celebratory drink. Gael protested that he was too busy and had to focus on his new duties. Unfortunately, Gael's stress was evident. He stumbled over his words, his mind clearly elsewhere. Later I had heard rumors of his reputation as the "runt" of the Rose Circle, his uptight nature a source of amusement among his fellow knights.
 
Disappointed in Gael but understanding, I decided to join my new companions for a night out. They led me on a bar crawl, their enthusiasm infectious. We laughed, we joked, and I quickly realized that I had made a good impression.
 
However, as the night wore on and the drinks flowed, I found myself becoming a target for pickpockets. My inebriated state made me an easy mark, and before I knew it, I was 25 gold lighter. Alistan managed to avoid the thieves, but my fellow knights chided me for my carelessness as they revealed that this had been a kind of hazing ritual.
 
It was a harsh lesson, but a necessary one. As a knight, I had to be vigilant, always aware of my surroundings. The world was full of dangers, and even in the midst of celebration, one had to remain alert.
 
That reminds me, when we next saw Dadroz, I couldn't help but notice a slight wobble in his step. He explained, with a sheepish grin, that his circle had decided he needed a little "toughening up." Apparently, they had administered a mild poison to teach him a lesson.
 
I couldn't help but chuckle. Compared to the near-death experiences we'd had, a bit of poison seemed like a minor inconvenience. At least his circle hadn't tried to sacrifice him to a dark deity or anything.
 
I shared a knowing look with Alistan. We had both experienced our fair share of hazing rituals, and this was just another one. It was a rite of passage, a test of our resilience and determination. And while it wasn't exactly pleasant, it was a small price to pay for the honor of being a knight.
 
A week after joining the Briar Ring, I received a summons to the royal court. Excitement and anticipation coursed through me as I prepared for the grand event. With the help of my companions, I selected a new wizard robe, adorned with the crests of the Briar Ring, symbolizing my newfound status.
 
We gathered at the palace gates, our hearts pounding with anticipation. Ser Donovan, the noble Octagon knight himself, greeted us warmly, his eyes filled with pride. He joked about our previous misadventures, a lighthearted reminder of the challenges we had faced.
 
Ser Donovan explained that the royal family wanted to recognize our contributions, to reward us for our bravery and sacrifice. We would be presented to the king, our names etched into the annals of history.
 
He also revealed that the knights had investigated the hidden passage beneath the embassy. The tunnel led to an abandoned cave, a place where the cult had likely set up a temporary base. The location was close to Ravensfield, explaining how the cult was able to mobilize an army to siege the town on short notice. Ser Donovan assured us that the gate had been sealed, preventing further infiltration. The city was safe, for now.
 
He outlined the events of the day, starting with an official proclamation. We would be given a chance to introduce ourselves to the court. Following that, a celebratory feast would be held. The day would culminate in an acceptance ceremony, where we would officially become members of our respective knightly orders.
 
And finally, there would be a grand party, attended by the nobility and the elite of Keralon. The excitement was palpable, the anticipation building with each passing moment.
 
Ser Donovan asked if there was anyone we wanted to invite to the festivities. Hayley suggested Zem and Saphira, her loyal companions. I inquired about Elsa, and Ser Donovan confirmed that she had already been invited, her presence a reminder to her growing influence. Alistan requested that Ragnar and Norgar be invited to further cement our close alliance with Velora Morenthene.
 
As we started heading up Palace Hill, Ser Donovan led us to the royal stables. A magnificent sight awaited us – a collection of warhorses, their coats gleaming in the sunlight. We were each presented with a steed, a gift from the king.
 
I chose a majestic white horse, its spirit as wild and untamed as my own. However, the horse seemed less than enthusiastic about me. It bucked and snorted, clearly unimpressed by my attempts at bonding. With the help of a stable hand, I managed to finally mount the beast, my heart pounding with a mix of excitement and fear. I decided to name my new horse, Ardent, to match his character.
 
We rode up the hill towards the palace, Ser Donovan leading the way. The palace was a grand structure. As we entered the courtyard, trumpets sounded, announcing our arrival. A small army of servants greeted us, their efficiency and professionalism a testament to the royal court's organization.
 
We were led to the residence of the king himself, a palace within a palace. The opulence was overwhelming, the furnishings luxurious, the decor exquisite. It was a world away from the dusty roads and makeshift camps of our recent adventures.
 
We entered a long corridor, its walls adorned with tapestries and paintings depicting the history of the kingdom. The stoic visages of kings past followed us as we walked in awe. The silence was broken only by the soft rustle of our footsteps.
 
We arrived at a large, imposing door. Four guards stood guard, their eyes fixed on us. From a hidden alcove, a man emerged, his staff topped with a brilliant gem. The old man, his eyes piercing, inspected each of us, his staff glowing with an otherworldly light. Our magical items, the signs of our knighthoods, were revealed. He then asked us to speak our names into the gem on top of his staff. With a nod of approval, he allowed us to pass.
 
We were led into the throne room, a vast chamber filled with the opulence of royalty. King Carolus III, a towering figure, sat upon his throne. His mismatched eyes, one blue and one gray, held a regal intensity. His lean build, while not muscular, was undeniably intimidating. His greasy hair, styled to the best of his advisors' abilities, added a touch of eccentricity to his imposing presence.
 
Next to him sat Queen Adelaide, whom we had met at the embassy a week earlier. To his other side, an empty throne stood as a reminder of the absent crown prince.
As we entered the room, a hush fell over the crowd. Over a hundred nobles, their eyes fixed on us, awaited our arrival. With a newfound sense of purpose, we stepped forward. Our names sounded through magical means, our heraldic symbols displayed on unfurling tapestries. The nobles, their applause timid at first, grew louder as we approached the king.
 
I spotted Elsa, standing near the front, her eyes filled with pride. I puffed out my chest, a surge of confidence coursing through me. This was it, the moment we had all been waiting for.
 
The king, his voice booming through the hall, welcomed us as his valued knights. He had heard of our exploits, our bravery and determination. Our names were spoken with reverence, our deeds celebrated.
 
He reiterated his gift of the warhorses, a symbol of our new status. He encouraged us to use them on our future adventures, to defend the kingdom and uphold the principles of chivalry.
 
With a nod, he invited us to share our tales. We stepped forward, each of us taking turns to recount our adventures since reuniting in Keralon. From the harrowing escape from Ravensfield to the epic battle against the dragon-men, our stories captivated the audience.
 
When we finished, a wave of applause swept through the hall. The nobles nodded in approval, their eyes filled with admiration. The king turned his attention to Alistan and Liliana, the last scions of the De La Roost family.
 
He spoke of the rebellion their father had faced, a dark chapter in the kingdom's history. He asked about their lives, their experiences, and Liliana's time in the Feywild.
The king's expression softened as he heard the name of Lady Vivienne. She was a frequent visitor to the court, her presence a reminder of the kingdom's connection to the Feywild.
 
The king then turned his attention to me and Hayley, his curiosity piqued. We introduced ourselves, revealing our magical abilities. Hayley explained that she was a witch, her magic drawn from the natural world. I, on the other hand, was a wizard, my powers rooted in arcane knowledge.
 
The king expressed his hope that none of his nobles would find themselves on the receiving end of our magical abilities. Hayley, with a playful grin, assured him that as long as they didn't give her a reason, they had nothing to fear.
 
The conversation then turned to Ravensfield. The king informed Hayley that she would be pleased with the gifts that he was still planning to give us, hinting at a benefit for the displaced Ravensfield residents.
 
I mentioned my time at the magical academy in Keralon, dancing around the topic of what had happened at the tournament with Emily. I did promise to hold no grudges for what had transpired and to not misuse my new position as a knight. The king, intrigued, asked for a demonstration of my magical abilities.
 
With a flourish, I pointed my finger at an empty space outside the window. A fireball erupted, its fiery fury sending shockwaves through the palace. The nobles, startled by the display, gasped in amazement.
 
I turned towards the Valeborn family, a mischievous grin on my face, a reminder of what I am capable of just in case they decide to come after me again. The king, impressed by my power, applauded, his eyes filled with admiration. However, I could sense a hint of concern in his gaze. My boldness, while appreciated, was a reminder of the violent nature of magic.
 
The king turned his attention to Dadroz, his curiosity piqued and asked him about his skills.Dadroz humbly explained his expertise with the bow. The king, intrigued, requested a demonstration.
 
He asked Alistan and I to choose a member from the audience. Not wanting to further antagonize anyone, we pointed to Vern Skald, the herald whom we had grown to trust.
 
Dadroz took aim, his eyes focused, his hand steady. The arrow flew true, striking the target inches from Skald, who jumped back in surprise. The king, while impressed, seemed a bit underwhelmed.
 
Finally, the king turned to Gael, his knowledge of the elven ranger limited. He asked about Gael's time in the forest.
 
Gael, his voice filled with pride, spoke of his life among nature, his skills honed in the harsh wilderness. The king, intrigued, requested to examine Gael's bow. Rising from his throne, he approached Gael, his imposing stature dwarfing the smaller elf.
 
The king inspected the bow, his eyes scanning every detail. "A magnificent weapon," he declared, his voice filled with admiration. "Truly unique."
 
Gael bowed, his heart filled with pride. The bow was a gift from a dear friend, a symbol of their bond.
 
The king turned back to the crowd, his voice echoing through the hall. "I have great expectations for you," he declared, his eyes filled with hope. "You have already done so much for this city. You deserve to be rewarded."
 
He turned to us, his gaze sweeping across our faces. "You are all raised to the lowest ranks of nobility," he announced. "Except for Alistan and Liliana, who are already of noble birth."
 
A murmur of excitement rippled through the crowd. We had been recognized, our contributions acknowledged.
 
The king continued, "Liliana, you have earned a special privilege. You may carry a single magic item, even though only knights are normally allowed." Liliana, her eyes wide with surprise, thanked the king.
 
The king, in a gesture of generosity, also bestowed upon us the Dogville district, a land rich in history and potential. However, Hayley, ever the independent spirit, refused the title and the land. The king, while surprised, honored her decision.
 
He turned to the rest of us, a twinkle in his eye. "The name Dogville," he said, "is a bit...unfortunate. Perhaps a change is in order."
 
We discussed the possibility of renaming the district, brainstorming ideas that would reflect its new status. Suggestions ranged from the grand and majestic to the quirky and whimsical, but remained undecided until a later date.
 
Finally, the king dismissed us, his words a testament to our contributions. We were free to join the acceptance ceremonies of our respective knightly orders.
Ser Donovan, waiting outside, greeted us with a warm smile. He congratulated us on our achievements, his eyes filled with pride. He inquired about Hayley's decision, his curiosity piqued.
 
Hayley explained her reasons, her voice filled with a mix of determination and weariness. She had witnessed the darker side of nobility, the corruption and the power struggles. It had shaped her worldview, her belief in a simpler life.
 
Ser Donovan listened intently, his respect for Hayley seemingly growing. He understood her decision, her desire for freedom and independence.
We were led back to the Octagon, a grand structure that housed the headquarters of the knightly order. We were given ceremonial robes, their colors and symbols reflecting our newfound status.
 
As we prepared for the acceptance ceremony, we were asked if we followed any particular deity. I revealed myself to be a follower of Zebulor, the god who chose his own path. Alistan, ever the just man, chose the symbol of Aitlas, the god of justice.
 
We entered the cathedral, a sacred place filled with the prayers of the faithful. The leaders of the various knightly circles were gathered, their faces etched with a mixture of pride and anticipation.
 
The acceptance ceremony began with a solemn oath, a vow to protect the city and its people. Religious services followed, prayers offered to the gods, seeking their blessing. A priest approached each of us, whispering a question into our ears. We were asked to reveal our deepest desires, our hopes for the future.
 
I spoke the truth, to prove myself worthy and claim my place in the world, find love, and secure my own legacy.
 
As the priest laid his hand on my shoulder, I felt a surge of energy, a burning sensation that coursed through my veins. I fell to my knees, a cry escaping my lips. When I rose, a symbol was etched onto my skin, the two-faced hourglass of Zebulor, a mark of my initiation.
 
We were officially Knights of Keralon, our names forever linked to the city's history. As we emerged from the cathedral, a crowd of people awaited us, their faces filled with admiration.
 
I hurried over to Elsa, who congratulated me on my new title. She offered her assistance, her knowledge of the city and its politics invaluable. I thanked her, grateful for her support.
 
As the party kicked off, we mingled with the crowd, our eyes scanning the room for any signs of trouble. The ever vigilant Liliana kept a close watch for potential cultist infiltrations.
 
To our surprise, she instead found Lady Vivienne, her fey mistress, standing at a table. A shiver ran down my spine. I remembered our encounters with Vivienne, her deceptive nature, her connection to the darkness of Neverhold.
 
Liliana approached Vivienne, as if greeting an old friend and not a being of terrible power. I watched from a distance, my heart pounding in my chest.
 
Suddenly, Liliana let out a cry, her body collapsing to the ground. I rushed forward, a firebolt forming in my hand. The other guests, startled by the commotion, turned to see what was happening.
 
Vivienne, her face a mask of innocence, inquired about the disturbance. Liliana, her voice weak, explained that Vivienne had given her a gift, a piece of her power.
My blood ran cold. Vivienne's intentions were clear. She was using us, manipulating us for her own ends. Anger surged through me, but I held back, my focus on Liliana's well-being.
 
An hour later, the king arrived, his attire now less formal, his crown and cape laid aside. He mingled with the crowd, his presence a magnet for attention. Despite his towering height and imposing stature, he blended in seamlessly.
 
We approached the king, our excitement tempered by the recent events. He greeted us warmly, urging us to be less formal, to address him by his first name. The king then revealed that he had another gift, a surprise that had us all on the edge of our seats. He urged us to follow him to a quieter area away from the crowd.
 
When we arrived, there were only a few nobles in the area whom we did not recognize. The king, his eyes twinkling with mischief, announced that he had a challenge for us. He had arranged a friendly duel, a test of our skills as knights. He added a wager, if we won, we would be granted wealth to repair our recently acquired fortification. However if we lost, we would have to return his prized war horses.
 
He presented us with two opponents, both golems, creations of arcane power. One was a lumbering, steam-powered machine, its movements slow but powerful. The other was a sleek, glass construct, its form shimmering with an otherworldly light.
 
We inspected the golems and assessed their strengths and weaknesses. The steam-powered golem, despite its brutish appearance, seemed to be heavily warded against the elements. We decided to face the smaller opponent, our confidence bolstered by our recent victories.
 
The king nodded, his approval evident. We stepped forward, our weapons drawn, ready to demonstrate our skills. Liliana charged straight at the golem, her sword a blur of steel. Three illusions of Liliana appeared, confusing the golem and creating an opening.
 
Gael and Dadroz unleashed a barrage of arrows, their aim true, their shots finding their mark. The golem's surface cracked and chipped, a testament to their skill.
I summoned a ball of fire and its fiery fury engulfed the golem. The creature staggered, its glass form weakened. As the golem approached Liliana, I manipulated the threads of fate, causing its attacks to go astray.
 
Zebulor, my patron deity, smiled upon me, his favor evident. With a renewed sense of determination, we pressed our attack, our blades a whirlwind of steel. The golem, its defenses breached, crumbled to the ground, a defeated husk.
 
The king, his eyes filled with admiration, nodded his approval. We had won the wager, our reward a fortune in gold, a gift to help us build our new estates.
As the nobles around us dispersed, their comments echoed in our ears. They had been impressed by our performance, acknowledging our strength and skill. The city was safe, thanks to knights like us.
 
Liliana, her curiosity piqued, attempted to engage the nobles in conversation. However, the king urged her to follow him, his impatience evident.
 
As we walked away, my sister Hayley expressed her suspicion about the nobles. She believed they might be fey, their true nature hidden beneath a human guise. The implications were chilling, a reminder of the ever-present danger lurking in the shadows.
 
We followed the king back into the palace, our minds racing with the recent events. As we parted ways, the king bid us farewell. The adventure was far from over, but for now, we could savor the moment, the victory, the recognition.