[masterofweirdness]

The group dodged and fought patrols for the rest of the day. Finally, at the edge of the forest, they made camp. They ate a cold meal and went to bed, Dagon took the first watch.
Dagon, to keep himself awake he thought back to an event only two weeks ago, an event that changed not only his, but the lives of all the men around him…
* * *
It was three weeks ago, at least that’s what Dagon thought, his memories had been a blur ever since it happened.
But what was it anyways? Well, it began some time ago, before that fateful day. Dagon and Soren, his brother, were traveling together to pledge allegiance to their new lord, Sir Gareth.
Gareth was a new knight and old friend of the brothers; they had been under him in a recent feudal war, a war in which Gareth had been knighted.
That was many years ago, Gareth, for a time, served under his lord living in his castle. But recently he had managed to acquire enough money to purchase a small area of land. It wasn’t much, only about one hundred acres and twenty peasants. But he and his new wife would be able to live happily on it.
It was a coincidence that the brothers Thavin, Dagon and Soren were both lived in the village, working as mercenaries fending off bandits. And when Gareth took began to build his fortress, he summoned them with a message saying they would now be paid by him, in gold, to lead his meager group of men-at-arms, a company of 8 men.
Of course the brothers were excited, the departed at once, leaving the inn they had been staying at, and making the journey to Gareth’s fortress on foot.
They arrived and Gareth greeted them. Neither had really changed, Dagon still carried the same huge, double bladed, axe, and Soren was still his weak looking, short self.
They spent that night sipping ale and wine together asking each other all sorts of questions, finally, just as the sun was coming up, they went to bed.
Those months were wonderful times. Gareth and the brothers spent most of their time separate, Dagon drilling his men, while Gareth and Soren finished building what would be their home for what they thought would be years to come.
It was fixed three months after the brothers had come to Gareth. It was not a mighty castle fit for a great lord, just a simple mansion with defense in mind and a wooden palisade around it. Still, it was a site to look at.
For three years the trio worked together to better Gareth’s humble estate. Gareth won much glory and gold in a war against a neighboring baron, and was able to double his land, increasing his wealth and his men-at-arms, of whom he now had nearly one hundred.
Then disaster struck. One day, after a long hunt, Gareth, Dagon, Soren along with the usual set of hunters, came back to the fortress to find it in ashes. In disbelief they explored the ruins, finding nothing but dead bodies, both men-at-arms and unknown soldiers, well equipped, and from what they could make out, well trained.
They searched for survivors, finding only a few, twelve of the men-at-arms had barricaded themselves in one of the towers, along with Gareth’s wife and two young daughters
Though Gareth was gladdened to see his family alive and well, however, when he heard what happened he grew silent and grave.
They had come only an hour ago, three hundred strong led by a man in full armor mounted on a mighty warhorse. They had attacked without warning, overrunning the defenders and killing all. Try and they could, the men-at-arms didn’t stand a chance, they were barely able to defend Gareth’s wife, let alone the fortress. Still, they had some luck, they had captured one of the soldiers and were holding him in the dungeon.
Gareth questioned him, and though it was a long, aurous process, he finally wrung out of the man, who his liege lord was, the truth shocked not only Gareth, but all of his men.
The man who had sent the soldiers to kill Gareth, was the king of Gilimar.
The man swore on his mother’s grave (and the kings toes) that he did not lie, and Gareth believed him. But the question of why, still remained, why would the king wish Gareth, a man of seemingly little power, dead?
* * *
“Dagon, Dagon?” Gareth said, rousing Dagon from his thoughts, “Dagon, you awake?”
Dagon stirred, then said in his deep voice, “Ya, ya, I’m up, just thinking, that’s all.”
“About what, old friend?” Gareth asked.
“You know this whole business with the king, its pretty strange.”
“And the fact that we’re running for our lives doesn’t help much either, does it?”
Dagon gave a snort, “no, not much, but then again, I’ve been wanting a decent challenge for a while. This might just be my style.”
“This isn’t exactly what I’d call a challenge, Dagon, still, I suppose if we survive this whole thing might be quite an adventure, if we live to tell the tale that is.”
“I suppose, but why you up? Go back to bed, you still have another two hours of sleep before its your watch.”