The Knight of Arcalund Book 01byCaptainSmashums©
The world of Arcalund is a magical and enchanting land filled to the brim with majestic kingdoms, monster-infested dark forests, and the children of this lush land are thrilled by the endless exploits of legends and heroes.
Of these legends, one rings of particular importance.
The great line of Goldmorrow had consistently spawned celebrated and valorous Knights for generations. Indeed, it seemed that every Goldmorrow son had a warrior's resolve and courage, and each had served the throne as protectors of the very lush, and exceedingly prosperous kingdom of Trilane.
(I now proceed to inform you of the line of Goldmorrow, and then, the very Kingdom of Trilane, where our story takes place.)
First I will speak of the latter day Goldmorrow scions, those legends who most recently have captured the Kingdom's imagination and hearts with their selfless acts of dedication and nobility (for to retrace the lineage from its inception, and catalogue the finer deeds of each would take far more time and space than I have available to scratch quill upon!).
Sir Lorvant Goldmorrow was said to ride into battle on an armored golden stallion that would tirelessly track down wrongdoers. He was said to be ten feet tall, with flowing blond hair and piercing blue eyes (traits that all sons of Goldmorrow bare, mind you). Sir Lorvant's greatest task was strangling each of the nine heads of the dreaded Hydra Kashumaks with his bare hands!
Sir Lorvant begat Sir Kirkland Goldmorrow, who was as fine a swordsman as any could witness. He was said to have never slept a day in his life, and could not be disarmed if he did not wish it. His greatest task was snipping the eyes out of each and every single serpent in the head of the vile Medusa queen Lilavet, just before stabbing her eyes out as well. This fantastic feat of swordplay was done in less than three blinks of an eye. Blinded and embarrassed, Lilavet vanished to her secret island fortress of stone, never to plague Trilane or its people again.
Sir Kirkland begat Sir Jaysek Goldmorrow, who wielded a mace that's touch crippled any evil being it touched. Arguably the greatest of the Goldmorrow heroes, he was said to be of utter honesty and piety, never once refusing to aid an individual in need of it. His greatest task was foiling an assassination attempt on the King of Trilane himself, sacrificing his own body in the process. With his dying act, he caved in the skull of the dreaded Lich Assassin Goohas, ridding the world of his incalculable evil.
Sir Jaysek begat Sir Carnos Goldmorrow, who is the hero of our story, and was blessed with all the gifts attributed to the hallowed and sacrosanct Goldmorrow name. He had the courage, pure blond hair, penetrating blue eyes, and skill at arms that signified lineage of the great line of heroes. He also had a few attributes extra, which would be completely wrong to leave out when scribing about such a colorful and interesting individual.
Carnos was blessed with a shimmering ocean of blond hair that he kept short and combed forth, smoothing in a perfect wave just above his eyes, which were of such a soulful and deep blue that they could be described as glowing. Not a bright, sky sort of glow, but a deep, dark hum of energy that accompanied his dreamy gaze. With a chiseled face and a body made lean and perfect from rigors of adventuring life, Carnos was by far the most visually appealing of his very famous family line. It was at a young age when he discovered his taste for women, and he still remembered the spanking he received for being caught nestled into the hulking cleavage of his buxom nurse at the tender age of 5. It seemed all his life, the young Goldmorrow scion received all manner of attention from the fairer sex, and his adventuring exploits were only rivaled by his carnal ones.
Sir Carnos Goldmorrow donned a sterling breastplate of armor that repelled magical attacks of all kinds, and wielded a lethally sharp longsword that always guided him to his destination, and a shield that would never be far from his side. Indeed, on numerous occasions he had tested this ability on several expensive tavern-bets, where the assembled patrons would hide the shield, and sometimes even bury it, only to watch in awe as the thing rolled from its hiding place and back into the grip of the young Knight!
His Stallion was named Savolt, who was the fastest mount in the entire world. This legendary steed could ride for days without so much as a carrot, and was said to have hooves that were as hard as diamonds, able to crack any surface with a well-placed trample.
Among the young Knight's more exotic companions was the constant company of Smokesnort, a gold Dragon Whelpling who, not of yet old enough to claim his home on the fabled shores known as the Wyrm Isles, decided to spend the majority of his time being a part of Carnos' wild adventures. He was the size of a small horse, and had the ego of a creature a thousand times larger. The Dragon was notoriously arrogant, and only kept company with lesser beings like humans when they proved exceptional. And, as you may have already guessed, Carnos Goldmorrow absolutely reeks of exceptionality.
The young Knight, his Stallion and his snobby Gold Dragon Whelpling had saved the Kingdom of Trilane numerous times. They had status and warm greetings from every commoner and noble alike in the Kingdom. With his companions, bravery and steel, young Carnos, who was not a sunrise above 20, was well on his way to surpassing even the greatest of his family, which was, as you may already have guessed, not an easy task.
However, things were about to change for our hero...
Trilane was as perfect a Kingdom as you could dream. Ruled over by the benevolent, if not slightly farsighted King Jurvas. The people were happy, blessed with full crops and gorgeous, preferable climate. The breeze in Trilane was perfection taken form, and the nites were clear and star-filled. The most fascinating trait of this dear and nigh-perfect place absolutely had to be its maidens.
It seemed that every young woman born to the kingdom was endowed with a superb and buxom, busty figure, with ripe, full breasts and womanly hips. The beauty of Trilane's daughters could not be denied, and was a favored topic among the more raunchy bards of Arcalund. In this happy and prosperous place was a popular tavern where the ale was frothy and true, the beds were warm, and the company cheery. The most famous tavern in the entire world was The Lucky Lich, run by Barrow the alemaster, who was said to be scribe of all thinks alcoholic, and could brew a drink that could make an Ogre dance a jig and sing a tune. Such was his knowledge over spirits that he had committed each recipe to memory before eating the recipe page so that his secret drink-diary could not be breached.
As the sun sets high over the Lucky Lich, our story begins!
It had been a victorious campaign against the Orcs, who had decided to raid some nearby villages in search of plunder. What they got was a decided thrashing at the hands of our Hero and his companions. Bravely did Carnos fight, not so much as getting a scratch on his armor during the conflict. By the time the thirty or so Orcs were sent off retreating, one could have not even finished a plate of oatmeal, so fast and fierce was the contest.
Returning to the Lucky Lich for some post-adventure celebration, Carnos had taken to bed with him 5 women on three trips to his expense-paid room (Which he earned by expelling a nesting Ghoul from the basement who was putting bugs in all the wine) after a hard evening of dancing and celebration.
He awoke late in the day, alone in his comfortable bed, the harsh and bright sun welcoming his weary eyes. He raised a hand to try and shield them from the sun, slowly slinking out of bed. He smelled of perfume and perspiration, an all too familiar combination of scents for him. Harkening back to the evening's events, Carnos smiled.
The Knight took a few steps to the bath, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, when suddenly, a strange and completely foreign sensation came over him. Putting a hand to his back, Carnos rubbed there, finding his body tested and worn from fending off 30 orcs and partying all evening, also fending off 5 women.
He blinked in shocked surprise. "I'm...Sore."
This may seem common to you or myself. Perhaps a few times you have drank a few things only to awake and have a blistering headache, or perhaps you have carried around something heavy and large, and woken up feeling as though a spacecraft of some kind had parked on your back. Yes, to normal folks, this feeling can be quite common, but to Carnos, an individual with such resolve and stamina, fatigue of any sort was frighteningly unknown.
"I'm sore." He repeated again, as if learning the words for the first time. He was confused and bewildered, remembering a time when he could fend off 50 orcs and 10 women in a single evening. What was happening to him? Had age and a short lifetime of adventuring brought him so low?
He marched to a mirror and checked his reflection, sticking out his tongue and squinting. He seemed normal enough...
Memories flew through his mind, racing like a wild horse. He remembered himself as a lad, small and in awe of his legendary father, who would limp around the house after besting a two headed giant in a wrestling match. He distinctly remembered hearing tales of the explosive deaths Goldmorrow males often faced-Incineration by dragon breath, poison by giant spiders, and other unpleasant adventuring tragedies. He thought long and hard about his life, the way that he overworked his sword and shield.
Indeed, Carnos thought of many things this morning...
"You want to WHAT!?" Smokesnort bellowed a ridiculing laugh, nearly falling off his seat as he pointed a hooked talon at Sir Carnos.
"I'm serious!" The young Knight replied, in no mood for the Dragon's musings. He sulkily chomped on some bacon through gritted teeth.
Smokesnort wiped a tear from one reptilian-like eye. "I'm sorry, but I never imagined I'd hear you say you wanted to give up adventuring."
"Well I just might. This...this whole thing is just wrong. I'm going to end up dead like my father, and his father, and his father's father before him, and for what? Fame? Fortune?"
"Women." Smokesnort said. "Don't forget the women."
Sir Carnos folded his arms and smirked at the smart-mouth Dragon. "I can get women without adventuring. I am already famous for what I've done. Give me ONE good reason why I shouldn't retire and live a nice, long life of comfort and pleasure?"
The Dragon Whelp gave a sharp grin. "I'll give you a very good reason." He paused dramatically. "Money."
Sir Carnos sighed and deflated in his seat.
"Do you realize that you spent the hundred gold reward for fighting off those Orcs last nite ALONG with another 50 in booz, women, and song? Face facts, Carnos, you're terrible with money."
Of all the things Sir Carnos hated, it was when Smokesnort was right. And for the record, he was very much right. As quickly as he earned his wealth, our hero spent it in fabulous and reckless ways. On one particularly extravagant purchase, Sir Carnos had decided to spend his entire inheritance on a Gypsy potion that would improve his sexual performance a thousand fold. Where once he was a lover of epic renown, he had now become a veritable god of carnality. The potion worked so well, that he had to give one poor girl CPR after she almost passed out from attempting to swallow one of his monumental tidal wave-like orgasms, but that is a whole nother story altogether.
Sir Carnos grew a sly smile and tilted his gaze back to the smug Dragon. "You're right, Smokesnort. I am bad with money, but I am NOT going to end up like my father, a man dead before his time." He smiled and nodded, cementing his plans. "I'm going to become a noble."
"A Noble?" The young Knight nodded and counted the perks on his gauntleted fingertips. "Wealth, privilege, status, not to mention the immaculately groomed Noble maidens. This is perfect for me! I can quit my adventuring and live life proper-in the lap of luxury, and in the lap of a few others as well." He was so thrilled with his plan that he held up his tankard of ail and toasted himself.
Smokesnort scratched his scaly chin. "A noble, hmm? Don't you think that would be hard?"
The young Knight folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his seat. "All I need to do is marry a noble woman. How hard could that be?"
Indeed, how hard?