The Valley of the Beast Part VII

The sun crested over the broken walls of the castle, casting tents and stairwells in the shadows of early morning light.  Sir Pierre broke from his tent that he shared with Lord Sven.  Looking back the big man still slumbered and snored, perhaps a little too comfortable in the wild.  He saw shadows moving from the top of the wall facing east and there he saw Rota and Kiera speaking softly and enjoying the sunrise.  Watching the morning light shine on Kiera's blazing red hair made Sir Pierre rethink his 'room' assignment.  He looked back and saw Lord Sven roll onto his side and groggily sit up.  Maybe on the way back Rota can be persuaded to take his place.

"You have an odd choice of bedmates with those two nearby."  Kaag said as he came up alongside Sir Pierre.  He made no noise as he moved, Pierre never noticed that during their previous battle.  On a battlefield there is noise everywhere so maybe it made sense that he missed that, but here in the quiet of this castle he saw the quiet grace of this warrior.  Something he never thought he would say of an orc half breed. 

"I assure you, it was not my choice."  Sir Pierre said and patted the mercenary leader on his shoulder.  One of Kaag's men brought over coffee and bread and cheese.

"A meal fit for a king!  The hospitality of an orc half-breed!"  Kaag clanked Pierre's mug and took a swig of his particular brand of coffee.  Pierre almost spit out his coffee, but not from the strong taste of alcohol.  Up on the wall Kiera had disrobed in her morning prayers and was singing softly towards the sun.  Rota, standing beside Kiera and following the hymn, was also naked and basking in the morning sun.  Their song carried across the yard, rousing the men and women from their tents and hovels.  Soon the entire castle was captured by the song and followed it to the sunrise.  Lord Sven came alongside Kaag and caught sight of the women on the wall.

"Good, it's going to be one of those adventures," Lord Sven said as he looked over the women singing a prayer to Kiera's goddess.  He stood in awe for a few moments before shaking his head and turning to the rest of the men.  "Glorin, I wa..."

"Utter another word and I will crush your skull,"  Kaag whispered into Lord Sven's ear as his huge hand covered Sven's mouth.  "They can finish their prayer or whatever it is they're doing."

Kaag never took his eyes off the two women as they finished their prayer.  Their bodies glowed ever so slightly in the sun, although Sir Pierre wasn't sure if it was just a trick of the eyes.  Kaag finally released Lord Sven and stalked off to his private chambers.  He muttered under his breath and stole one last glance at the women as the put their clothes back on.  Sir Pierre began helping to rally the band of warriors to assemble as they prepared to leave into the woods.  As she came down the stairs to the courtyard Kiera caught Sir Pierre's gaze and held it.  A wry smile spread across her face and he was forced to smile back and shake his head.  It was going to be one of those adventures indeed.

Once the trance was broken the camp sprang to life as Sir Pierre and his companions prepared to enter the forest.  Tents were broken down, fires put out and packs were slung over shoulders.  You could ride horses into the forests, but the trails were treacherous and hungry beasts often stole them in the night.  Or during the day with the rider still mounted.  Lord Sven had decided to leave behind the two newest knights, Owen and Kar as they were not quite ready for this part an adventure.

"Leaving behind your horses?  Do you not trust me Sir Pierre?"  Kaag was back from his private chambers although Pierre never saw him approach.  Looking at the monstrous orc before him, Pierre wished he had paid more attention to his surroundings.  Kaag was furious that Pierre was leaving knights behind with their horses.

"I asked you a question Sir Pierre, do. You. Not. Trust. Me?"  Kaag had a large dagger in his hand and he was breathing heavily.  Pierre realized what it looked like and was about say something before he stopped himself.

"Well!?" Kaag bellowed loud enough for the entire castle to take notice.

"We are leaving Kaag, and we are leaving two of our finest guards to watch over our horses."  Pierre spoke loud enough for the entire castle to hear.  "I don't know what your mother told you or even if you know who your mother is, but my mother told me to never trust an orc farther than you can throw him.  And if you didn't notice, you're quite large for a rat faced orc."

Kaag gripped his dagger tight and breathed heavily as he prepared to unleash his rage.  Then he saw Pierre wink at him.  He leaned in close, the courtyard heavy with tension.  "What game are you playing Sir Pierre?"

Pierre leaned in closer, "the knights I'm leaving are new recruits.  Owen and Kar.  Break them in, test their mettle for me and I'll pay twenty five gold per recruit."

"Fifty per recruit and I promise we won't kill them,"  Kaag spoke quietly but with anger still lingering in his tone.

"Done."  Pierre turned back to the courtyard and stared at all of the hardened mercenaries surrounding their camp at the moment.  "I'm leaving two of my highly trained knights to watch over our horses and supplies.  If any of you are thinking of helping yourselves to our wares once we have left, you'll have to go through Owen and Kar first."

Pierre turned a grabbed his pack off the ground as he, Sven, Brother Gronin took the lead out the back gate.  Kiera was flanked on either side by Rota and Paxil.  Last came the twins Bernard and Brandon, brothers who grew up as rangers before joining the ranks of the Battered Rose.

"What was that all about?"  Sven asked after they had lost sight of the castle.

"I wanted Kaag to test Owen and Kar while we searched for the temple."  Pierre looked at Sven and shrugged.  "They'll be fine, I took care of it."

"Kaag doesn't seem the mentoring type."

"Exactly my point."  Pierre smiled a thumped Sven's arm.  The group came upon the first marker, a statue from a forgotten time that marked an ancient road forgotten in the forest.  Pierre was getting ready to lead the group on from the statue when Sven stopped him.

"What is it?"  Pierre asked and he followed Sven's gaze up the derelict statues façade.

"It's the statue."  Sven said and turned to Pierre.  "It's eyes are bleeding."

The Valley of the Beast Part VI

"What's going on Sven?  What don't I know about her?" Sir Pierre said to Lord Sven as they looked on to the courtyard.  They knights were preparing to leave for the Hero's Forest in the courtyard as Sven looked on from up high.  Sir Pierre found him shouting orders to the squires and knights below as was customary before anyone was sent out in force but Lord Sven seemed distracted.

"What do you know of our priestess?"  Lord Sven said as he turned to Sir Pierre who shrugged the question off.  "Here's what I know, that she first went to the Iron Boots and then to the Red Dragon Legion.  She was and probably still is looking for an army.  They both turned her away thinking that she was a little mad for wanting to secure an army for her curse.  They sent her to us."

"Why would she need an army for a curse?"  Pierre said as he stepped out of hiding.  Unbeknown to them eyes and ears had already found their conversation. She nervously adjusted the straps on her saddle and pack.

"That is why I had Paxil follow her path to us from the east."  Sven came close to Pierre, whispering his next words in case others could hear.  "She passed through Thorbadin and Milwane."

"They were destroyed by demons and fire or so the survivors say."  Pierre looked down as Kiera finished setting her horse.  She looked up and waved to her champion.  Pierre smiled and waved back before turning to Sven once more.  "Have you spoke with the Iron Boots or Red Dragon Legion?"

"They are aware and on guard.  We will not fall to this curse."  Sven said.  Pierre nodded and turned to get his horse ready.  "Pierre."

He turned and looked back at his friend.  "Her curse is masked from her own gods and ours.  Few command that power."

"Then it is good Sven the Just and Sir Pierre the Red Line are here to save the day!"  Sven laughed at the jest but saw the truth played on his friends face.

They both knew there was something more to this curse.  Some hidden evil that had latched onto Kiera.  Towns had fallen, some had resisted and won.  Others became refugees and warnings as they spread to their new homes.  Neither man had asked Kiera much of her journey, both were more interested in helping her in the immediate present.  Those higher in the order took a different stance.  And more than just the legions in the region were on high alert, the kings and queens, the princes and the trade masters, the wizard lords and all the powers of the region of Tomascas watched as the small hunting party left the Battered Rose's keep.

The journey to the Hero's Forest was a quiet one.  They rode on horseback for three days west of Minskata.  The lands were tame, with no signs of some of the beasts or highwaymen that sometimes plague the lands this far out of the large cities.  Small dales and farmsteads dotted the land infrequently as the riders made their way across the fields.  The mood was light, even jovial at times as Kiera got to see her first emerald dragon as it glided along the winds high above.  The reflection off its scales caused it to shine green in the sun, like a star born out of the blue sky.

Once the Lost Castle came into view Sir Pierre knew they had finally arrived.  The Lost Castle was a derelict castle lost to another time before the Knights of the Battered Rose had even been formed.  Over the centuries it had changed hands from bands of mercenaries, monsters, and occasionally a lord who sought to create a new outpost on the edge of civilization.  Now the castle belonged to an orc who was rumored to be part hill giant.  Kaag was a ruthless mercenary leader who was unequaled in battle.  Only Pierre had ever battled him to a draw.  He smiled at the memory on the field as Kaag's mercenary's had to withdraw once the merchant tyrant who had sponsored them had been killed.

As they approached a few of Kaag's mercenary's approached to question their intentions.  Before any could speak the air broke with a bellow.  All went for their weapons except Sir Pierre who dismounted.  A large shadow blocked much of the gate, too much to be a man.  It shook with laughter and slowly moved into the light.  Kiera gasped at the largest orc she had ever seen in her life.  Kaag wore his battle plate, which was pieced together from magical armor worn by defeated foes.  Given his size and the damage he inflicted in battle, Kaag usually had slim pickings.  He stalked forward with his large battle ax the size of a grown man in one hand.

"Well met Sir Pierre, the Red Line!  Ha!  I did not think you would come all the way out here just for another shot at my head.  And I am need of fresh scars."  Kaag smiled and leaned in, tracing a scar across his forearm.  "Did you come here with such a small group to challenge me?  I admire your courage."

"Well..."  Pierre started to say and then before anyone could react he drew his sword and drew blood from Kaag's right cheek in a motion so fluid that a drop of blood fell from his sword before anyone could react.  Kaag laughed and slapped Sir Pierre on his shoulder, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"As fast as ever, I'm glad your skills have not waned."  Kaag folded his massive arms across his chest and looked over the group in front of him.  He studied them for a moment before turning back to Pierre.  Suspicion growing on his face.  "What brings you to my home, Sir Pierre?"

"We need lodging for the night and to stable our horses.  Tomorrow we go to do some hunting in the woods." 

"Excellent!  We have very modest..."  Kaag looked to his men who shrugged.  "We have soft ground away from the shit of the horses.  Downwind, of course."

"An orcs hospitality, glad to see the rumors of you settling in out here were true."  Sir Pierre led his horse towards the castle.  "Has business been good?"

"It was, but lately less come this way in need of our services.  A lord came through a few days ago.  To 'test his mettle'," Kaag made a flourish with his hands.  "He hired five of my men to accompany his house guards and mage.  They left the woods after one night, seeing nothing but the lord was plagued by nightmares as if his mind was under assault."

"There are creatures that possess that ability, but I've never seen them in the Hero's Woods."

"Me either.  Be careful Sir Pierre, there is blood between us and it is good.  I would hate to lose you before we have a chance to settle it."  Kaag patted him on the back and the breath went out of Pierre.  Kaag went on to shout orders to prepare tents for the guests.

"What did he say?"  Sven said as he walked up beside Pierre.

"Just what we already knew, that the Hero's Woods are damned.  Asarix has returned to his temple."

The Valley of the Beast Part V

"You came to right place lassie," Brother Gorin said taking Kiera's hand and pulled her into a seat near his desk.  The desk was littered with scrolls and papers concerning the various deities of the region and known world. "Let's have a look ya."

Brother Gorin opened her robes and began to inspect her.  Occasionally there was a 'hmm' or an 'ah hah'.  Kiera looked over to Sir Pierre who simply shrugged.

"Does reading the tattoo help?  I would have thought one of your order would be familiar with Tesha."

"What tattoo?"  Brother Gorin looked up and grinned. Kiera let out a laugh and ruffled the rotund dwarf's head.

"Well played Brother Gorin," she said to his broad grin.  "Now if we can continue with the curse."

"My pleasure m'lady,"  He sat on a stool and smiled as if he knew more than he was letting on.  "You're Askari the Winds Wings."

"Yes, as I announced myself when I first came.  That is the name of my phoenix." 

Kiera spoke of the tradition of the priests and priestess of Tesha who upon acceptance into the order were sent into the woods naked.  After seven days if Tesha showed them favor they were branded with a spirit animal.  As they grew in power and knowledge of the ways of Tesha and the Seven they would be able to call upon their animal during times of need.  As they progressed in the order they would tattoo the beast onto their body.  Most agreed you did not truly begin your training as one of the order until you finished the tattoo, which took years.

"There have been rumblings of a curse against Askari in both the Heavens and the Hells."  Brother Gorin said as he took out a scroll and unrolled it.  The light seemed to dim as the image on the paper became clear.  On the scroll was a demon that looked almost like a man, but far too large for any mortal.  A mixture of jet black and blood red skin painted his body and mimicked the gladiator style armor that he wore.  He was said to be handsome for a demon lord, but the malice in his eyes destroyed any illusions of love or kindness.  In one arm was a sword that was razor sharp on one edge and jagged as if broken on the other.  It was almost as large as Asarix himself, wildly disproportionate but his skill with the blade was legendary even in the outer planes.  His other had held a staff made from the skulls of his kills.  Heroes of Light, Avatars of Gods, dragon kings, angels, devils, and his most prized skull was a long forgotten demon lord who once held the throne of his current kingdom.  "For whatever reason your spirit animal seems to have caught the ire of Asarix, the Defiled One."

"Asarix..." Kiera cursed under her breath and clenched her fists.  She felt her tattoo twitch, eager to unleash a holy fury upon the demon lord.

"The one and same."  Brother Gronin said rolling the scroll up of Asarix's image.

"Wasn't there a temple of Asarix deep in the Hero's Forest centuries ago?"

"Yes," Brother Gronin said smiling and tapping the scroll to his head.  He was at that same conclusion before these two had even arrived.  "I've already asked Lord Sven the Just to give us permission to head into the woods."

"If I know him he'll never let us go without him."  Sir Pierre smiled at Brother Gronin.

"You'd be right in that,"  a voice said from the doorway.  All turned to see Lord Sven the Just stride in with Paxil the elven mage in tow behind him.  Lord Sven wore scorched black plate, burned in the fires of a powerful dragon and bound with magic to make it impervious to fire.  He had sandy brown hair that matched his eyes yet there was wisdom beyond his years in his gaze.  Only a few of the senior knights and occasionally Sir Pierre could defeat him in a match of arms.  None were so blessed the blade he was given.  The Leviathan was his family's sacred sword, passed down for generations that began with a distant grandfather who had killed two devil kings who had broken into the mortal planes.  The Lords of Light blessed the blade greatly and ever since it's list of great deeds has grown.  Lord Sven is eager to add deeds of his own to Leviathan's legendary lineage.

"Priestess Kiera, it is an honor to meet you."  Lord Sven bowed and kissed her hand formally.  "It seems we have to continue further west with you on your journey."

"I guess it would be prudent to have a healer on hand for the journey," Kiera smiled.

"Two actually," Brother Gronin said and hopped off his stool. Kiera smiled at the group of strong knights around her as Brother Gronin and Lord Sven nodded at each other.  Sir Pierre caught the look but said nothing and told himself to ask about it later.

"Then let us go give our enemies a reason to have healers of their own," Paxil said as he let lightning surge around one of his hands and cast an eerie light across the room.

The Valley of the Beast Part IV

Despite his bravado and silly antics Kiera was surprised how quickly her champion changed his demeanor.  One minute he was naked for all the world to see, the next he was listening intently as she told her story that began over five years ago.  Kiera was summoned by a dark wizard named Wyrth to save his dying son.  The Seven believed all can be saved and so Kiera made her way to his modest tower on the outskirts of a city far away to the East.  His son had been cursed by a demon who had been summoned by Wyrth who was seeking forbidden knowledge.  The demon denied his request and broke free from his bonds long enough to curse the son who had snuck in unknowingly.  The battle had been terrible but the wizard sent the demon back to the abyss.

Kiera did her best to bring the pain in the old wizard's voice, he was a changed man in her eyes.  Even if for a moment.  Despite everything that happened she still believed she could have saved him and his son.  For a day and a night she used her most powerful spells to try and revive the child.  There was nothing she could do, the child turned quite suddenly before she could get more help from those higher in her order.

Wyrth flew into a rage and lashed out at Kiera.  She had spent all her magic trying to save the child, her defense were formidable but in her weakened state she could not defeat such a powerful mage. Wyrth had her beaten but he did not kill her, instead he knelt over his fallen son.  He chanted and pulled a dagger from his belt and began to cut himself.  Wyrth's eyes turned to orbs of blood and Kiera heard the second voice speaking alongside the old mage.  The demon hadn't left, he had hidden in Wyrth's body.  In the end Wyrth was given forbidden knowledge, a curse from one of the lowest planes of Hell.  He sacrificed himself and struck through Kiera's wards granted by her goddess and curse her to be an agent of destruction.

"Those in my temple bade me to go west after praying to the Tesha.  Our goddess said my salvation lies in the West.  This curse is hidden from all gods and goddesses I've met so far.  Hell itself seems to be protecting the curse to keep it alive on this plane of existence."

Sir Pierre had been so completely lost in thought about the nature of the curse he didn't realize Kiera had stopped speaking.  As soon as he shook himself from the intrigue of the curse that was immune to the gods themselves.  He found his footing and lost it again when he caught Kiera's eyes looking at him.  The soft glow of the fire had shadows dance across her face and robes, a soft play of light on he perfect skin.  He pushed those thoughts out of his mind and made himself speak.

"The Knights of the Battered Rose know curses better than most.  A powerful curse took our leader many centuries ago and we'll travel to the deepest depths of Hell itself to find the source of the curse!"  The men around him cheered at the bravado but Kiera just let out a small laugh.  Sir Pierre leaned in, knowing he had to show her more.  He needed her to see that he knew her pain and was honest when he said he would save her.  "In all honestly I don't think the answer to your curse is in Hell.  And that means its somewhere near here.  That is why you made it here and why your goddess sent you west."

He took her hand in his and held her gaze for many moments.  "I will save you."

"Thank you," Kiera replied as tears welled up in her eyes.  She was strong, as much warrior as she was healer.  Yet this journey has been draining her for a long time and through it she's seen may travesties befall those around her.  She leaned in and rested her forehead against his.  "But you're going to need help."

"Then its a good thing I'm not alone."

Sir Pierre smiled and winked, showing that confidence of someone who had never tasted defeat.  And for the first time in years Kiera felt hope.

The Valley of the Beast Part III

She sat in her robes near the hearth where the knights and lords would gave to trade stories.  She blew on the hot tea and watched the steam continue to rise before taking another sip.  The normally boisterous men were having quiet discussions, trying to appear civil and cordial.  Kiera smiled at the notion, many times she found eyes on her that quickly looked away when she looked up.  She could feel their desire, their curiosity that pushed boundaries that were supposed to be stone walls. 

"You're making them nervous," a feminine voice said from behind.  Kiera turned to see a young woman clad in form fitting plate and chainmail.  She moved with grace like a cat circling its prey.  Immediately Kiera recognized a Valkyrie when she saw one.  The flowing blonde hair and deep blue eyes of her people were easy to recognize if her warrior armor did not already give away that secret. 

"You're making them nervous.  They have never known a priestess of Tesha, One of the Seven."  The Valkyrie finished he circle to stand in front of the fire casting herself in a silhouette of light. "They are only used to seeing beauty in battle."

"I don't see you battling now," Kiera smiled coyly.

"Who says we aren't?"  The Valkyrie was smiling, enjoying this entirely too much.  She walked towards Kiera who uncrossed her legs and let the robe fall just a little from one shoulder.

"My fellow knights are enchanted by your beauty, your...sensuality.  I have even been healed by a priestess of Tesha a few years ago when I was traveling east." She held Kiera's gaze with her eyes and there was a fierce current just beneath her calm demeanor.  "I know you are here for a reason, I believe I know that reason.  If it is true it is our sworn duty to help.  But do not think for a minute that I will allow you to manipulate my brethren."

"I come seeking aid from those who have the power to help.  That is all."

The warrior woman looked her over for a moment longer then smiled and bowed.  "I am Rota, when the time comes I will be there with sword and spear."

Kiera stood and kissed Rota on both cheeks, whispering a blessing that hung in the air.  "I am Kiera, priestess of Tesha, One of the Seven."

"I had heard you were beautiful," a voice from behind brought the already quiet room to a hushed silence.  "I just hadn't expected your beauty to stand so tall when next to our Rota."

"Be careful he's charming." Rota said quietly as she left Kiera.

Kiera turned to face the man she assumed to be the Red Line.  For the first time in many years she speechless.  He was said to be handsome, as most famous knights are.  Yet here was a young man with too much confidence.  Handsome in the face, a chiseled frame bearing a few scars and tattoos of protections on either arm.  All eyes were on him as he walked in and Kiera found herself staring for far to long at his body as he stood before her.  His body almost glowed in the soft light of the fireplace.

"I think you forgot your clothes, Sir."  Kiera said, almost laughing at herself by being caught so off-guard by a naked man.  "Although I appreciate the sentiment."

"I simply wanted to make my lady feel at home."  Kiera offered her hand which Pierre kissed with a bow.  "I am Sir Pierre.  Please, sit."

They sat by the hearth, Sir Pierre trying to stay charming.  Kiera holding his gaze and taking slow sips of her tea.  Sir Pierre slowly began to wilt under the scrutiny of her gaze.  After a few long moments it was Kiera who broke the silence.

"I hear you are good with your sword."

"So I am told."

"If your enemies are still speaking after you use your sword then maybe I need another knight."  Sir Pierre was about to interject when he was cut short.  "And if your women still have the strength to speak after laying with you then I certainly need another man."

Laughter boomed from all the knights in the room.  Kiera expected him to be cowed but was pleasantly surprised to find Sir Pierre laughing along with the rest of the room.  He was confident, very confident but humble enough to laugh at himself.  Kiera knew that her prayers had been answered.

"All right, all right!  Go back to your own conversations!"  Sir Pierre called for his squire who came running with a robe.  He helped Pierre into the robe, took one look at Kiera, smiled meekly and almost fell over himself trying to run out before Pierre caught him and held him up.  "Kip, this is a priestess  of Tesha, greet her as a knight would."

"M'lady," Kip kissed her hand.  Kiera thanked him and then moved forward and kissed the young squire on both cheeks and intoned a blessing.  Kip looked lightheaded as he walked out.

Sir Pierre turned to Kiera, "now, tell me about this curse."

The Valley of the Beast Part II

She walked the road heading out of town moving wide of the of the wagons making their way into the city early this morning.  Her white robes had blue trim, not a common sight this part of the world for what it represented.  She is a priestess of The Seven, a collective of deity's dedicated to life.  Hers was a specific way, a healer with extraordinary gifts.  The methods were sometimes questioned just never the results.

The priestess strolled down the road for a little while longer before the wagon traffic and the droppings became too bothersome.  Instead she moved towards the river and began to wade in the river along the shore where the current was gentle.  Although she moved slower along the banks, there was a tranquility with the flow of the water in the early morning light.  Life was still stirring in the morning light and there was a oneness she felt with her gods.  She took off her robe and let the sun warm her bare body.

Those fishing in the streams found themselves transfixed by the woman wading in their stream.  Red hair blowing in the wind, green eyes and a soft smile entranced all who met her gaze.  Her body was firm as one of her faith demands. Part monk, part priestess her long legs were toned after years of training and as your gaze moved up be it a man or woman something carnal stirred.  Pale skin was contrasted by a hairless body and the colorful tattoo that caressed her leg, body, breasts and back.

It was tattoo that gave her identity away.  The phoenix rising.  It's take wrapped around her leg and was made entirely of holy scriptures.  As the words flowed up across her breasts they became incantations of healing and curing.  The tattoo wrapped itself around her back with the wings spreading out to he should blades and spoke words of power.  The head rested on her shoulder with the mouth facing her right ear, whispering ultimate knowledge to her whenever she would listen.  Despite the trance they had fallen in, many still found the strength to back away a little although they never let her out of their sight.

Her flock grew as she made her way up the river and soon she began to sing softly.  The song touched all and soon her flock began to break apart as each man and woman ran off to be with a lover or a friend.  They had such joy in their hearts and their ailments lifted as if nothing more than dust in the air.  Her gods saw her and blessed her with a morning rain, light like a kiss unexpected.  The sun shone through the clouds keeping the mood light.  It wasn't until she finally came to the Keep of the Knights of the Battered Rose that her mood shifted.

She approached the keep bare, noting the bewildered look of the guards with amusement.  She paused in front of the closed gates until finally a sergeant appeared to see her.  He knew what she was and tried his best not to leer or lust, but to hold his position with honor and greet her with the respect she deserves.

"M'lady, what do the Knights of the Battered Rose owe the pleasure of a priestess of The Seven?"  The sergeant bowed low as he spoke.

"I am Ashkari the Winds Wings.  I am here to see the Red Line, Sir Pierre."

The Valley of the Beast Part I

They were a prominent clan of knights in the region of Tomascas, a fertile land with rolling green hills and plenty of forests.  The landscape was dominated by two large lakes and the large walled cities of Minskata and The Saints Gate.  The Knights of the Battered Rose lived in a small keep on the river that connected the two lakes.  Several clans kept their residence along the river as the space allowed them to joust and train more easily than in the walled cities.

The Knights of the Battered Rose weren't like some of the larger clans that supplemented armies or took on large raiding parties like the Iron Boots or the Red Dragon Legion.  They were adventurers of sorts, sent to defeat renegade wizards or rescue someone in distress.  Like all clans they have a Virtus, a mission they cannot refuse for it is an evil they are sworn to defeat.  The Knights of the Battered Rose fought curses, either of the lands or of the people.

When they're founder came centuries ago from a far away land, he lifted curse from the Blood Forest when he slew the Demon Wraith and cast the beast back into the Pit.  They renamed the forest after him, calling it the Rosewoods ever since.  Since then the Knights of the Battered Rose have saved many from horrible fates.

With every generation there are heroes born in the fires of some Hell.  As curses were never as  clean as a simple battle the Battered Rose's tended to produce more heroes, if fewer in numbers. This generation had a few, but it was two in particular who were making this generation great.  Maybe even legendary in time.

Lord Sven the Just was of noble birth who fought and earned his way into the ranks of the Battered Rose.  He hid his identity for over a year when he came as a lad to the knights to train and become one of them.  No one knew who he was or where he came from until Sven's father came to hire the knights to search for his wayward son.  To this day Lord Olaf Westmore has yet to fully forgive his son for the pain and grief caused by his disappearance, however noble the designs.

The other was a knight who truly came from nothing.  A bastard of a peasant mother and the marauder who took her one night many years ago, Sir Pierre was also known as The Red Line for his skill with a long sword.  He was charismatic but headstrong and too willing to rush into battle.  Although none would question his courage or conviction, all would agree Lord Sven would be the one leading the clan one day.

It was a day like most others as she moved out of the city towards the Battered Rose's keep.  She had been in Minskata for less than a week and all had pointed her in the same direction.  She wanted a legion of knights, but a curse is a curse.  She knew that there weren't enough knights though, there were never enough knights.

Tell Me I'm Pretty!!!

I've been back in the dating world for over a year now.  Writing that sentence just made me have one of those "oh shit" moments.  I didn't realize it had been so long since I had turned away from someone so close.  Rather than reflect, I think I've done that enough, rather I'm realizing my friends suck.  That's right, you reading this right now, one of my five followers, I know the secret you've been hiding.  You see, there are all these dating sites that are free, and these apps on phones that are free and many that connect to our social media apps.  Guess who has a lot of hot single age appropriate friends out there?  My friends do. 

All over Facebook my friends have massive amounts of single hot girlfriends who they could set me up with but do I get a call?  No.  A social invite to their soirees so we can meet in a casual setting?  No.  I mean, we all know you can't invite me someplace fancy without the gregarious gentleman in myself coming out.  I would definitely be the loud one in the group telling ridiculous stories and slightly embarrassing everyone I came with, still I am entertaining.

So why don't these friends set me up with their hot friends?  They tell me I'm a handsome interesting guy.  So why are there all these single hot friends out there who aren't dating me?  I'm the Sterling Archer of real life men.  I'm everyone's type.  Also I look good in a suit and have been known to say "that was totally ninja".  I mean, what girl doesn't want a guy who talks about ninjas?  I also play Dungeons and Dragons still, which is a great hobby for the thinking man.  See?  Very dapper.  Sometimes I even pretend I'm a level 12 paladin in real life and wield my holy sword in public.  The establishment does not appreciate this, further showing my stripes as a rebel.  And according to recent Hollywood blockbusters, women love rebels.

This also got me thinking about another reason.  No not the one where people don't think I'm good enough for their friends.  That reason is so far on the ridiculous scale that it's...sad.  So very...sad... I mean how well do people know each other?  Their friends specifically?  How many of our friends have ended up with someone who we went "never saw THAT one coming".  Obligatory "that's what she said".  Seriously though, I feel like we all KNOW we could pick the perfect person for our single friends.  Yet they always end up with someone off our radar.  And maybe that's why they don't set me up.  Because I'm an open book and most my friends know too much about me.  Then they look at the their single hot friend and are like "she can't possibly be into that".  Next thing you know she's dating me and buying peanut butter and lotion in "wholesale" quantities.  What, I like soft skin and peanut butter toast.  It was very thoughtful of her and economical too.  Stop thinking like me. Perverts.

The Downtrodden

When I was younger I always wondered how people got certain ways.  Such as how people got fat.  Seriously, I looked at people who maybe at one point had been skinny and wondered how they got so big.  Quietly of course, I didn't stare and point.  I just didn't understand how an active person who eats reasonably healthy could balloon up.  And then it happened to me (damn I feel an after school special coming on!). I was someone who was always pretty skinny.  I got a little chunky by my standards, which meant I went from a size 32 waist (scary that I'm 6'1") to a balloon shaped 36.  Not quite so bad to some but to me it was a lot.  Fast forward to living in NYC and I'm down to a reasonable 33-34" waist.  Walking, bartending, fight training (Muay Thai), I peaked two weeks before what was supposed to be my first fight at 157 lbs.  Sounds scary but I was eating a ton just in small portions spread out through the day so I was never hungry and never ever lacked proper nutrition.

Then came the new job.

No time to train, no longer on my feet bartending everyday, not walking nearly as much because I don't have the free time and not working in the city anymore.  About a year, maybe a year and a half I was up to 217 lbs.  Back to the 36" waistline. Now I'm kind of exaggerating the weight gain, my fight weight is about 30 lbs. less than my walking around weight of 185.  I just also realized that some people might be from other countries, so...I weighed 14 stones or about 89 kg.  No math needed, that came straight from me head. 

It wasn't like I just allowed myself to gain weight.  I still desired to stay active, I just didn't have the time.  Or I should say I made choices about how to spend my time.  I chose to invest heavily in my job.  I chose to write more and more.  I chose to spend time with my girlfriend at the time.  I tried to be active but at the end of the day there was often just no time.  So I porked up a little before I knew what was happening.

That brought me to this year.  I'm 33 years old, and someone told me many famous people achieved great things in their 33rd year.  When I heard that I believed I would too and so far I have.  I've lost some weight but nowhere near fighting weight (or shape).  Again I really find myself focusing on work, the job.  My passion has forced its way to the front and I'm writing more and more everyday.  Even finished the book of short stories and now I'm moving onto the next project for the first time in years.  My love life isn't where it needs to be but I know I have to take care of certain things before I will let myself be truly happy with someone.  I liken it to allowing myself get fat for a while.  You make choices on what you're going to invest in because our time is limited and most of us need downtime to watch our crappy TV shows, play video games, or read a book.   

These choices are hard, but they are also short term.  I gained weight before because I chose to focus on other important things, yet I've lost half of what I had gained in only a few months.  I've put my love life on the back burner so I could focus on other things that will also give my life true meaning, but I haven't forgotten my passions.  These choices are the pain of the downtrodden, they just don't realize it.  They struggle and fall and start to believe this is their life.  It's not.  Those that finally pull themselves up see the truth but when you're walking through the sludge you believe you're never going to be free again.  Your dream, your goal is not insignificant.  It's going to be part of what defines you in the end.  You have to pay the price, that's all these choices are.  Keep towards your goal and the price will be paid back with interest.

I Now Understand People

I know what you're thinking, why?  Because I understand people.  Always have.  As a bartender I knew people always wanted another drink.  Sometimes possibly they wanted food or the bill.  I even thought of starting my own psychic hot line until I realized then I'd be using my powers for money.  And I hate doing paperwork for small businesses, even my own.  Damn government and their NAFTA.

Something else occurred to me while all this epiphany was happening.  Something I didn't want to accept for decades because I've always been a carefree wanderer.  Time is important.  Our time on this Earth is important (it's a proper noun Robin, I can capitalize it!).  I've never been one to pull away when a friend, lover, or family needs something.  I've always rushed to help or to lend my ear.  Thing is, the older we get the wiser we get (hopefully).  I don't think anyone in my life would let anyone drown, but those who are ready to be saved, ready to be helped, have to at least to tread water.  As someone who seems to trip and fall down often, gonna go with because I'm reckless, I know why people don't always rush to my side. 

It's not that sometimes I don't need help.  It's that sometimes I don't know which direction to go. I have to really figure that out for myself first.  Point in case (an expression which never made sense to me and I don't know if I'm using it correctly now), when I first moved to NYC I just wanted a job.  I thought I would be a Product Manager like I was in Minnesota and so I kept applying to those jobs.  I'm not a Product Manager though, I have never been one.  I'm was a Buyer.  Yeah I didn't know what I was, but had I took the time to talk with people in NYC about what I liked to do, what I had experience with, then maybe someone would have pointed me in the right direction.  When you're looking for help, when someone is reaching out, they need to make sure they've done the spiritual journey to see what they're truly looking for.  Otherwise they just end up floundering in the sea instead of swimming to the shore.  (See that analogy?  Booyah grandma.  Booyah).

And now a pic of me all professional because it's my blog and I look sexy.

Seven Years of Adventures

A little over seven years ago, I was playing broomball (it's a Minnesota thing, look it up) on a Summer Sunday morning.  After the game I told my dad I was moving to New York City.  "Now obviously I planned out this trip", he said.  "Of course!" I replied.  I mean, I gave myself almost an entire month.  Which I squandered of course, but we all knew I'd do that.

First day in New York City I experienced a fifty-five dollar cab ride.  Plus tip and tolls of course.  I got to see the Seinfeld diner and was sadly dismayed by TV trickery when it didn't look the same on the inside.  And the day ended with me learning that two Corona's can cost you fourteen dollars in a bar.  "No, no.  I only want two Corona's."  She did not find that funny.

The first year had its ups and downs, I got engaged then ended it because I had to.  I got a bartending gig that will arguably go down as my best job ever.  I met and fell for a girl I would chase on and off again for the next seven years.  I somehow got the idea to try and open a bar with a few friends.  Although, truth be told, I was more of a tagalong in that adventure.

When writing this, I thought about taking a snippet from each year, the best and worst, or most interesting things, but that would take forever and we all know how long-winded I can be. I mean, look at that run-on sentence!  However after reading the first few paragraphs I don't think that will work.  So let me just tell you what New York means to me.


It is home.

I am a wanderer, I've always needed to explore and be an adventurer.  The City gives me that everyday.  Different neighborhoods every few blocks in every borough.  A stroll through the park tells a history and the neighborhoods a culture.  Little Italy, Little Brazil, Little China (all five of them), Little Turkey and numerous other pockets of immigrants offer a doorway to the world.

The people make the city and they've made my life here as well.  I've coached a roommate through early relationship woes and smiled later when they held their first child together.  When my first engagement fell apart, the entire reason I moved to NYC fell apart.  One of my friends I worked with found out, and found out that it was my birthday the same day.  After we finished bartending he took me out until the sun came up.  My friends picked me up when I fell.  The birth of Muay Thai in my soul.  I never expected to be able to have friends like I did in Minnesota but I've found many out here who've been there every time I wanted to quit.  They picked me up.

Seven years in the City have been good to me.  I have learned more than I ever imagined.  I've traveled and loved and experienced a life that is still shaping up to be the greatest adventure I'll ever tell.

 

 

You wanna make love to dis? Rawr!

Awwwwwwwwww yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh ladies!  I gots that milkshake that brings all the ladies to the yard.  It's cookies and cream.  Mmmm, you like that?  I put some whip cream and a cherry on it.  That get you going?  Wait, no.  Not to the door!  Baby don't leave me!!!  Wait while I put on my sexy music. And that's what this blog is actually about.  I think most of us usually do the deed without music.  Sometimes we put music on, but usually not.  And I got to thinking, what's on your booty playlist?

I'm not asking because I need ideas.  I mean, I need those too.  Really, I'm just curious as to what people get down to.  Some songs I've already crossed off, because they're too slow.  Maybe leading up to the sex but before foreplay.  Such as Turn Me On by Nora Jones.  Great song, has some good lovey dovey parts that will point a night in the right direction.  Not enough sex though.  So here's the list I have so far:

Nine Inch Nails - Closer.  No brainer here.  Has a good beat, somewhat up tempo.  Sexy lyrics, many girls have stripped to this song for their boyfriends and guys have wished and hoped their girlfriend would do the same.

Awolnation - Sail. Has a nice slow build, faster paced, lyrics come across as strong.  Something sexy about the song.

Bush - Mouth.  I mean, c'mon.  Even the band name and song title imply sex.  Again, slow build.  Sexy rolling beat, has a good pace to it, little rock and roll for your love life.

So far that's it.  I know I'm going to get reamed for missing some other easy ones, but I like this list already.  So what's your funky music white boy?

It's Raining Out So Blogs Should Be Depressing?

I actually love the rain.  I know I know, it sucks to walk through...sometimes.  Really though, I find myself listening to the rain every time there's a Summer storm.  There's a secret there if you just close your eyes and listen.  The wind howls but it isn't from anger, it's just the natural fury of the storm.  The water heals and washes away the dirt, the smell of rain, even in New York, is majestic and refreshing.  Maybe I needed a good storm to remind me that eventually it will end, and that's when things are finally allowed to blossom.  I feel like I slipped and fell, hurting myself bad in the fall.  I'll walk with a limp for a while, but the rain washed away the worst of the pain and eventually I'll heal and walk right again.  I still believe this is my year, and there have been some challenges that have changed me, but I know I'm seeing a clearer picture for myself and there are great things ahead.  Second half of the year starts now...or at the end of the month.  Not really sure, I'm bad with dates.  And math.  And especially physics, that's why I'm deciding to believe in magic.  Not Harry Potter style, but good old fashioned Dungeon and Dragons style.

The Days Get Shorter With Summer

I don't know if anyone else notices that, but how short do the days feel when Summer is around?  New York is a walking city, which means that one of the best ways to get around is to walk and see all the sights.  Most big cities are like this because they have so much to offer, or they have many diverse neighborhoods.  Walking around you see the little kids out getting into shenanigans, there are the girls wearing outfits that are best reserved for the bedroom.  I mean seriously, how short is that skirt?  I only ask because I care about your panties.  And then there are the guys that remind me that I hit the gym about 3 months too late.  And I need more tattoos so I can be badass!

So this is it, all this walking around.  The picnics, good times out with friends, staying out late, the random adventures you have you're walking around and taking time for the journey.  That's what Summer is, that's why the days are so short.  It's all about the journey, we have places we're going, but no real destinations.  Kids might be going to the park but get sidetracked by an evil ninja army that they end up battling in the streets.  As adults, a trip to a bar often times turns into a pub crawl.  Why?  Because fuck you I'm an adult.  And that's why we have baby sitters and friends who owe us a favor to watch kids we don't even actually have.  Even a romantic out, say a picnic with a view or a restaurant.  During Summer you walk before and after the meal.  You let your feet lead you wherever they want to go.  Yeah yeah, part of it is the weather.  The other part is also the weather.  But I know that there is some small part, some unweather related part, that is the mystique of Summer.  Even chores outdoors feel good, power washing you house, planting an herb garden, or some home improvement project, they all feel good while you work on them.  The projects, not people.  I think I'm losing my string of consciousness, so lets move on to the next part.

I'm not sure how to get the awesome people to read my blog so I'm going to start randomly tagging things until I get 10 hits in one day.  Also I don't know where to put the #.  #nazininjaparade, #Georgefuckingtakei, #squirrels, #GOT, #madmen, #spongebobsquarepants, #Idon'tthinkthesegohere.

So, Like, Minnesota Still Has Snow in Some Places

And I went to those places.  Why you may ask?  Because family.  And when you're a hearty Scandinavian man born in the frozen Tundra of Minnesota, you go places with snow for vacation.  In Summer.  What was really scary was how many people were wearing shorts, it was about 50 degrees but because there was Lake Superior, the lake that thinks it's a sea, right next to us there was a wicked wind blowing constantly.  It was like sticking a block of ice in front of a fan, that old school A/C.  Made everything cold.

Yet it was so beautiful there.  I've been living in New York for almost seven years, and I forget how green our world can be.  Minnesota is very flat, a really tall hill is like a mountain for us.  Yet if you go you'll see more trees, lakes, rivers, prairies, and moose.  I wanted to wrestle a moose, but being in God's country I'm guessing He decided it was best if I didn't run into one. I, I don't always make the best decisions.

Aside from nature, it was great being around family.  All the nieces and nephews, my brothers and sister and those they've brought into our family.  We hiked and swam in an outdoor pool during that day, and then took turns cooking dinner.  Always, we ended up playing cards and reminiscing.  Getting a little competitive at times, but most just laughing.  We've gotten older but damn if I don't love my family.  Unless they're being assholes.  See below for PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW

PEW PEW PEW PEW PEW

You know what really grinds my gears? Usually other gears

Sometimes I feel like I'm driving a with square wheels.  Off road, and I'm being attacked by ninjas on wagons.  Station wagons.  The old school kind where the back seat was facing backwards and the window rolls down so you can throw shurikens at cars following you.  I may have imagined that last part as a child but it seems very relevant right now.  So I'm kicking butt at work and I've been growing and taking on more responsibility.  Moving my career forward and all that.  So we had this charity golf event and I invited a few people from my largest client.  After the first hole I looked down and noticed I had a small hole in my shorts.  By the final hole it looked like this:

I know what you're thinking, the man knows how to pose.  Thankfully it only got a little worse before I realized I had a pair of pants in the car.  So only had to suffer a little humiliation at the hands of three different branches, my largest clients, and the squirrels that were running around on the course. 

Outside of my total fails on the golf course I've also stepped back a little from the dating scene.  Few reasons, first, I realized I need to focus a little more on my career and writing.  I figure back taking a step back I'll better be able carve my path.  Then I'll be sexier.  I know, you look at the photo above and you're like, "How is that even possible!?"  I'm not sure, I mean, look at my calf muscles.  Majestic.  Majestic as fuck.  The other reason is women are expensive.  Going out on dates, especially when you're active on a website like OK Cupid.  The website is free, the dates are not.  I'm also waaaaay too social.  So I've been on so many dates just because someone suggested meeting up even though I'm kind of like....no thanks.  Stupid Minnesota Nice. 

Game of Thrones Feast Deliciousness

First I would like to start off by saying all those words in my title today are real. Second, having a Game of Thrones feast was a great idea. If' you're reading the books you know Mr. Martin loves his food. And sex, but you can't eat sex (hehehehe) so we're just gonna move on. Unless people want a Game of Thrones orgy. Dammit people we're talking about food.

I've always like the sound of these feasts, because if you say the word feast to someone, I'm guessing the first image that comes to their head is a big meal with lots of happy people toasting life and eating good food. If you have a feast it might not be in a great hall like the stories of old, but I'm guessing you'll get a few good people there, hopefully some good food and drink, and general conversation that makes everyone smile. So, without further ado, I present you with the making of my Game of Thrones feast!

Here's all the food...you know before I make it delicious. I bought the Unofficial cookbook because it was cheaper and a couple of recipes really stood out. Mostly for this leg of lamb dish that just looked out of this world delicious. That's for another day. A quick tip, you'll notice I have two bottles of the same wine. When cooking with wine (as this recipe calls for), ALWAYS serve the wine you cooked with at the table, it'll complement the meal nicely. In this regard, never use cooking wine. Just learn your wines and you'll eventually figure out which to use for food and dishes. The main dish is Salladohr Saan's Minced Lamb with Pepper. Given the character has a very Mediterranean flare, I added some Turkish side dishes. A spicy spinach dish and Turkish rice. Want a quick idea that's a delicious appetizer? Of course you do. Cut up a couple of red and green bell peppers, maybe some broccoli, and serve it with good hummus. It's almost no work, it's very healthy, and super delicious.

So this recipe called for me to step outside my normal cooking skills. As you can see here's the slow cooker (aka croquet pot which I always and still do believe is spelled crock pot), I've lined the bottom with sliced potatoes and eggplant. That was the hard part.

My mom got me a pestle and mortar a few years ago. Maybe she thought I wanted to be a wizard. I never really used it except to show off, because why? Then I couldn't find ground cinnamon, and we didn't have ground cloves. But I had whole versions of both. Touche mother.

This was actually the hardest part. The lamb smelled so delicious while cooking I thought I was going to just start spoon feeding myself. After sauteing this I added in the spices, cinnamon, cayenne pepper, salt, other stuff I can't remember right now and the book is literally just out of reach. I could lean a little, but what are you gonna do? After all the sauteing and simmering I tossed it into the crockpot. Let that shit simmer for 2 hours.

Here's where it actually got tricky, see all that white cheese? It's fancy Gruyere. Which is just a French way of saying store brand Swiss cheese. You know how expensive the imported cheese is? I'll live in my ignorance thank you very much. The recipe called for me to whisk (wisk?) together some flour and milk over heat. Or medium-high heat, which NO NOZZLE IN THE WORLD HAS A SETTING FOR THAT. That means guessing, a lot. Anyways I made a mess but eventually I whipped in some eggs, fancy Gruyere cheese, and some nutmeg. Tossed that concoction onto the meat and let it cook for another 2 hours or so.

After 20 some odd hours of cooking, we finally got to sit down and feast. You'll notice the matching dinnerware and elegant foldout table. I SAID NOTICE IT!!! Might be someone forgot to buy a tablecloth. Throughout the night there were shenanigans, great conversation, and feasting of epic movie levels. And even though it was a lot of work, and a little pricey, I can't wait to have everyone over again soon.

The Way Forward is Covered With Broken Dreams

Yeah yeah, it sounds drab, but it doesn't mean what you think it means.  Since my last post a lot has changed.  I've had some adventures, some people fell from my life to follow their own paths, but mostly I've learned what I need out of life.  It's not fixed, my needs, so if you have a spare monkey or dancing bear that you have to part with, please let me see if they're actually part of my plan.

As for my adventures I got to see the blue of the Caribbean.  I was sorely disappointed...that I still burn so easy.  I don't know why I thought I would tan easier now that I'm older.  I don't, I'm Norwegian dammit.  If we wanted an abundance of sun we'd build a spaceship shaped like and glorified canoe and ride out to pillage some of the golden rays.  And even though it came with quite a bit of heartache, I made it back to NYC.  Few places felt like home like the City the Never Sleeps, even if does make you restless in your dreams.

I lost friends to time and different paths.  I don't mean lost, like they died.  This isn't a morbid blog, they just went their own way.  We keep in touch via the Facebook, but really I will probably rarely see them again.  Its sad but that's life, sometimes we have to drift our own way to achieve our own dreams.  And I lost someone I loved very deeply.  We tried very hard, we loved very deep, but in the end we couldn't make it work.  She's an amazing woman, and I think happy thoughts when I think about her and us, but our paths diverged and we had to go our separate ways.

Back to the beginning, the title of this entry.  It was something I realized as I pull myself through the hardships of a breakup, a move, the mounting pressures of work, life, etc.  You should never stop dreaming, not ever.  Yet there are dreams you want, and dreams you need.  I don't want to win the lottery, not really, but I dream of it. I think about all that money and how it would set me free to live my life.  However how many people tell themselves they don't want to ever retire.  Why?  Because you'd be bored out of your fucking mind.  Life is supposed to challenge you; work, accomplishments, those things give you a sense of accomplishment, a sense of fulfillment.  So when I looked over my life after letting a part of it go, I realized I needed to toss aside some dreams that cluttered my mind.  They were dreams that I was always like, "that would be nice".  Really, I need to keep pushing on my career because it fascinates me (Supply Chain), I need to keep writing because I love to create worlds, and I need to keep wandering, because I know I need to chase the wind.  The dreams I leave behind will always be there should I decide to pick a new one up, but for now these three are worth pursuing.  I hope this new entry finds everyone well, and if not I promise many musings that will brighten your day.  Such as when I try to cook a Game of Thrones feast this weekend.  I'm a nerd like that, and the food will be delicious.  Or not.  Either way there are plenty of pizza joints in the area.