He came upon a midnight clear
by KHYRIC
It was a cold and quiet night on the
plains of the former free kingdom known as the Shield Lands.
Fresh snow covered the ground, in some places drifting almost as
tall as the biggest horse...if there were horses left to measure
it by.
Sound was non-existent it seemed in this frozen tundra devoid of
both human or animal life. The familiar hoot of a snow owl, a
lone howl of a wolf or even the bells of a sleigh pulled by
horses were all items belonging in some other distant past.
Trees, fog shrouded and twisted, seemed to have given up their
quest to pull their roots from the soil and take leave from this
place. The weather, mixed with the lack of movement or noise,
gave this little patch of Iuz-controlled territory the look of
being otherworldly.
It was into this winter scene that a lone figure rode, his aged
war-horse making not a whisper in the new fallen snow. This was
his home, once, but now he wondered if it ever would be again. He
had traveled for many days to reach this spot, a spot that others
only thought of in scorn, but a place that still held much
meaning to the war-weary Paladin.
Once, in the days before Iuzs minions had invaded his lands, he
was a high ranking Knight of Holy Shielding, a leader in the
church of St. Cuthbert, and a hero to both noble and peasant
alike. He had fought evil on many fronts, and had always been
victorious. Leading a band to the caverns of Tsojcanth, the
"Blade" of Cuthbert (as the priests called him)
defeated Iggwilv's daughter, the warrior-vampire Dreinza, and
brought back the treasure she guarded to give to the church of
his faith.
Legends grew about the adventures of this Paladin, and with the
riches from his travels, the Priests built him a castle to govern
and protect the people of the area. So loved was the knight, by
those he watched over, their greatest gift to him was the mighty
war-horse he rode on now. Weary of the boring life of governing
the keep, and wanting to continue the ways of St.Cuthbert, holy
warrior and mount traveled to confront the evils of Iuz.
For a time after, the Blade of Cuthbert and the horse known as
Melinkerian rode to counter the threats of the Old Ones minions.
Always together, never apart, they were true champions of good.
Only with the sacking of the Temple of Elemental Evil did man and
horse lose their way.
Entering the ancient evil home of the Tanar'ri Zuggtmoy, the
knight bid his loyal mount to "wait for my return, and
together we shall roam the fields of Sarresh and protect the
people who gave you to me." With that, the Paladin and a
group of Warriors, Priests, and Mages entered the Temple to
disappear into its lore forever.
He had fought the horrors that the Temple had thrown his way. He
had lost his friends and almost his sanity as he battled to rid
the place of its evil. With the death of his comrade, the mage
Sheandra of the Gnarley Wood, the famous Paladin of St. Cuthbert
found himself alone and lost in one of the many traps at the
fungus queens disposal. As time now stopped for the captured
Knight inside his prison, it continued to pass for those he knew
and loved outside the wall of his private abyss.
The warrior had awoken outside the Temple gates, as the sight of
his prized mount appeared before his fallen master's eyes. Weak
and famished, the horse led him to a spring where he fell and
drank the water of the still clear pool, and ate the mushrooms
growing on the banks. In the weeks that followed, news of the
Greyhawk Wars and the state of his beloved Shield Landers filled
the Knight with the longing for revenge against his hated foe.
Iuz and those who followed him would taste the steel of his
blade, but first a task must be fulfilled.
Riding now thru those promised fields of Sarresh, the heart of
the knight grew heavy as Melinkerian made not a single sound. How
long had the faithful horse waited?, what had happened to it for
the years he was away?, all questions that he could not answer.
Only a promise was left now, an oath of honor that bonds those
who have shared so much, together forever.
As the pair made their way over an icy ridge, the battered towers
of his former keep came into view. The time was almost here as
rider and horse prepared to say good-bye. Gone were the peasants
who had given the hero so much love, gone was the family who had
carried his name, and gone was the church that had preached his
faith. All victims of the war he had missed.
Now, as the Paladin of St. Cuthbert dismounted from the mighty
war-horse, he tried to believe he was not losing the greatest
companion he had ever known, but instead was giving a soul
eternal peace.
"Until the Star Breaks my friend ", he spoke in a
whisper, "....until the star breaks."
Slowly Melinkerian faded from the world of man, to roam the
fields where faithful horses of heroes roam.
How long the body and then the spirit of the horse had waited,
the Knight would never know. But as the Blade of Cuthbert turned
his view toward the rising black smoke coming from a distance, he
swore that the wait would not be in vain. The Old One would be in
for a surprise.