Tales of a young Paladin

With the wind picking up, Donovan felt a chill. Though he wore a medium weight wool cloak and tunic, it seemed to penetrate the fabric and seep into his very bones. He glanced at the skyline and gauged he had near three hours to find the pass south through the mountains to Britain. He thought that if he could find the pass, he could make camp near the other side if need be and arrive in town before noon on the morrow.

At nearly 19 now, Donovan found himself wandering the lands. He was not sure what he was searching for but he knew what he had lost…..his family. Tall and lean, he was fair with a sword. Though a bit rough around the edges, he could hold his own with most fighters. He was a bit sensitive about his youth he did not look more then 16 and this was aggravating at times.

The woods were dense here and hard to sight ahead but the directions he was given at the elven tavern seemed good. He would just continue west along the foothills until he found the pass. Perhaps he should have stayed to the road as was suggested by the elves but the pass seemed more adventuresome and would cut out two days ride from going around the mountain either to the east or west.

It did seem to be getting cooler, much faster then he anticipated. Perhaps he should have purchased heavier clothing. The light chain armor he worn beneath his clothing seemed to hold the cold. He would have to pick up the pace just a bit, he thought, as he pulled the cloak close around him.

The mountain seemed to open up in front of him; surely this was the pass he looked for. He continued east into a valley or perhaps a canyon mouth, yes it must be, surely this was it. Donovan set his heals into the hunches of the ethereal stallion he rode and true to its spirit it launched itself forward with renewed vigor. The ethereal was sure footed, his father’s pride and last possession before his death in the war for Trinsic. He made his way easily through the thick underbrush.

The sun was descending on the skyline faster then he had anticipated, shadows were growing long and the woods seemed to be closing in about him. He reached the now facing east foothills and made his way due south staying near the mountain. Perhaps he should have heard the sounds gathering in front of him but with the wind blowing………….no matter……… it was too late as he broke into the clearing and saw the orcs staring at him. He was not sure who was more surprised to see the other, he or the orcs. The three directly in front of him dropped immediately into a crouch. All held clubs. Thinking quickly and hoping that his stress would not show in his voice, Donovan lowered his bladed staff pointing it directly at the heart of the nearest orc. This done he shouted, “Stay your weapons! We have you surrounded!”

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> With the wind picking up, Donovan felt a chill. Though he wore a medium weight wool cloak and tunic, it seemed to penetrate the fabric and seep into his very bones. He glanced at the skyline and gauged he had near three hours to find the pass south through the mountains to Britain. He thought that if he could find the pass, he could make camp near the other side if need be and arrive in town before noon on the morrow. > At nearly 19 now, Donovan found himself wandering the lands. He was not sure what he was searching for but he knew what he had lost…..his family. Tall and lean, he was fair with a sword. Though a bit rough around the edges, he could hold his own with most fighters. He was a bit sensitive about his youth he did not look more then 16 and this was aggravating at times. > The woods were dense here and hard to sight ahead but the directions he was given at the elven tavern seemed good. He would just continue west along the foothills until he found the pass. Perhaps he should have stayed to the road as was suggested by the elves but the pass seemed more adventuresome and would cut out two days ride from going around the mountain either to the east or west. > It did seem to be getting cooler, much faster then he anticipated. Perhaps he should have purchased heavier clothing. The light chain armor he worn beneath his clothing seemed to hold the cold. He would have to pick up the pace just a bit, he thought, as he pulled the cloak close around him. > The mountain seemed to open up in front of him; surely this was the pass he looked for. He continued east into a valley or perhaps a canyon mouth, yes it must be, surely this was it. Donovan set his heals into the hunches of the ethereal stallion he rode and true to its spirit it launched itself forward with renewed vigor. The ethereal was sure footed, his father’s pride and last possession before his death in the war for Trinsic. He made his way easily through the thick underbrush. > The sun was descending on the skyline faster then he had anticipated, shadows were growing long and the woods seemed to be closing in about him. He reached the now facing east foothills and made his way due south staying near the mountain. Perhaps he should have heard the sounds gathering in front of him but with the wind blowing………….no matter……… it was too late as he broke into the clearing and saw the orcs staring at him. He was not sure who was more surprised to see the other, he or the orcs. The three directly in front of him dropped immediately into a crouch. All held clubs. Thinking quickly and hoping that his stress would not show in his voice, Donovan lowered his bladed staff pointing it directly at the heart of the nearest orc. This done he shouted, “Stay your weapons! We have you surrounded!”
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