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.