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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Sir Kendrik" data-source="post: 1421906" data-attributes="member: 123">With the grime and aches of his hurried journey soaked away in the tub and a quick bite to ease the grumbling of his stomach, Sir Kendrik changed from his armour into a comfortable tunic, the knight decided it was time to visit the smithy that he had called home for the first twenty two years of his life.  “I hope this goes well,” thought Kendrik, remembering the harsh words he had with his father Lars when he and the others hurriedly departed Axbridge on that fateful errand for the unscrupulous Sir Beorn.  “I hope father is in a good mood.  I’m in no mood for another argument.  It will be great to see Betaine again though.  I miss her.”  The knight strode confidently down the road that led from Manor Hill toward the village green and on to the smithy.  Wearing a white long-sleeved tunic, his newly gained personal tabard bearing his heraldry of a sword and hammer crossed, his good trews and boots, Kendrik nodded and smiled at the surprised reactions of the villagers he passed.  When he had lived in Axbridge, the former blacksmith’s son was never too worried about his appearance, and allowed his beard to grow wild and bushy, while his clothes where a sea of patches.  The young knight that now strode down the road was so neatly groomed and well dressed, the villagers could barely believe it was the same blacksmith’s son.  Suddenly Kendrik herd the sweet sound of a familiar voice carried on a breeze from the village green.  Looking toward the direction of the voice, Kendrik saw his little sister Betaine sitting on a log, singing in front of a group of village children.  Beside her sat the elderly village harper, Lucan, accompanying the dulcet tones with his harp.  The sight of his beloved sister immediately lifted Kendrik’s mood, and he found himself quietly humming the teaching ballad she was singing to himself as he quickly cut across the green, eager to reunite with her.“Betaine!” called out Kendrik in his deep baritone, as his patience thinned and he stride broke into a slow run.Betaine’s voice faltered as she looked with some concern and the sound of her voice.  Immediately her frown become a teary smile of joy as she saw her stocky brother lumber towards her.“Excuse me master,” said Betaine, as she gained her feet at a run, not waiting for Harper Lucan’s approval.“Of course my child,” said Lucan to himself humorously. “And greet the new lord for me.”Betaine leapt into Kendrik waiting embrace, the two hugging and laughing for a moment until Kendrik grabbed Betaine gently by the shoulders and pulled her from him.“And what are these?” asked a slightly embarrassed Kendrik, looking at the developing form of his sister.  Betaine had always been tall, but now that beanpole frame of hers had begun to blossom into womanhood, giving promise the beautiful creature she would become.  Like their mother, Betaine had long black hair that she let fall freely down her shoulders, and her milky fair skin allowed her brilliant blue eyes to shine all the more brightly from her delicately chiselled face.“It has been some time Sir Kendrik since you left,” stated Betaine. “Am I not allowed to grow up?”“No, well yes, of course you are,” replied Kendrik with a hearty laugh. “I just can’t believe how beautiful you have become.”“Well thanks brother,” with a mocking pout. “Things have changed greatly with you too.  I approve of this,” said Betaine grabbing at the neatly trimmed goatee.  Since when did you start looking like this?”“I wish I could have been able to tell you earlier,” admitted Kendrik. “Things have been so busy, and my liege relies on me to do his bidding, which I do gladly.  I just hope you can understand.”“Yes I do my lord,” replied Betaine taking Kendrik’s hand. “You have always needed to do what you felt was right.  I always knew you would return one day.  Have you been appointed lord?  Is that why you are here?  I am surprised that Master Lucan hasn’t been informed.”“No Betaine.  I wish it was as simple as that,” stated Kendrik, his voice becoming serious.    “What’s wrong?” queried Betaine, anxious to hear the reason.“We are going to the Caves of Chaos to retrieve a holy relic, and to rescue my beloved,” explained Kendrik“Your beloved?” asked Betaine curiously. “Rescue?”“The cur Caligulus reared his ugly head a couple days ago in Clyster, and he has spirited Lady Elanor to those accursed caves.  We are but awaiting for our horses to revive before riding out again.”“Kendrik!  You never said anything in that brief missive you sent that you were courting,” accused Betaine.  “And a lady no less!  I am impressed.  That would explain the new look too.  I hope she is not harmed.”“She means the world to me Betaine,” said Kendrik earnestly. “Just to see her radiant face makes my heart sing like the birdsong that you were singing to those children.  Is there something you should be telling me?”“Yes my lord,” stated Betaine formerly. “Master Harper Lucan, in his wisdom, has Chosen me to be his apprentice.  He hopes that I may be ready to be sponsored to the Harpercraft Hall within the year.”“I am most pleased for you,” acknowledged Kendrik, pulling his sister in for another hug. “I had best not be keeping you from the children’s lessons.  I will continue to the smithy, and I hope to see you at the Manor for the meal tonight.”“I look forward to then my lord,” replied Betaine, hugging Kendrik for a moment longer before breaking free.  “Oh, and don’t worry about Father, regardless of how things were before, he will be pleased to see you.” “I hope you are right,” said Kendrik with a smile as his sister returned to her class.  The knight walked the short distance from the green to the family smithy where he had grown from a small boy to the tall, impressively muscular man he was today, thanks to the countless hours he spent assisting his father, either working the bellows or hammering away at the forge.  As he approached his childhood home, Kendrik couldn’t help but feel a tinge of guilt that his new life in Clyster had caused him to turn his back on his father and his craft.  It was his father’s hope that Kendrik continue the family tradition of smithcraft when he was too old to work the forge.  Kendrik still loved working the forge, but his elevation to nobility would forever dash Lars’ plan for his second and youngest son.  Lars was always a harsh taskmaster with Kendrik, and the young knight had grown to believe that there was very little love in his father’s heart for him.  Lars had always been hard on Kendrik, something that Froderick took advantage off, framing his younger brother and then belittling him at every opportunity for being punished for deeds he had not committed.  When hobgoblin raiders killed Kendrik’s mother some seven years earlier, Lars spared no time in blaming his youngest son for not protecting his mother while he was away.  Kendrik was certain that the welcome would not be a warm one as he reached the entrance to the smithy.  Stopping for a moment as he listened to the sound of a hammer ringing against an anvil.  “Whether I gain his approval or not, he is my father.  I will do the right thing.”  Stepped into the smithy, Kendrik rang the brass bell used to alert his father that someone was in the shop. “Who in the Abyss could this be now?” bellowed Lars in his deep voice, refusing to divert his attention from the forge as the stocky blacksmith hammered out a sword blade. “Can’t you see I am busy?  Come back later!”Kendrik didn’t answer immediately, instead watching his father work for a moment.  The man was still impressively built, and his skin was leathery and brown from working with the forge fires day in day out.  The great drooping moustahe his father had wron for as long as Kendrik could remember had grown even more gray, while his bald pate glistened with sweat.  “Father, it’s me, your son Kendrik,” answered the knight loudly, as his father was a little hard of hearing from years at the forge.“Kendrik?” queried Lars as he placed the blade into a barrel of water.  Dropping the hammer and tongs, the smith turned to face his son.  Lars’ expression grew surprised, as it dawned on him that his son was now a knight. “And what makes you think I want to see you Kend…my lord?  A year passes with no word, and you just swan in here a knight and expect me to be happy.” “I came here to see my father,” answered Kendrik, holding out his forearm and hoping that his father would shake it. “I have missed you dearly, but unfortunately Baron Aldred has kept me more than busy since I left.  I wanted to return, if but to clear the air.”“Nonsense!  What’s to clear my lord,” dismissed Lars gruffly. “Father, I’m still your son,” pleaded Kendrik, feeling uncomfortable that his hand was not accepted. “I just want to see you again.  I am pleased to be home.”“Aye son, it is good to see you again,” huffed Lars.  Looking at Kendrik’s proffered arm, the smith grasped it briefly before he pulled his son in for a bearhug.  Lars’ strength still surprised Kendrik, and the brief contact brought back fleeting memories of his childhood, and the none too frequent instances that his father showed any emotion towards him. “I missed you too,” admitted Lars before the stocky blacksmith with the walrus-like moustache pushed his son back. Looking Kendrik up and down, the smith gutted his chin at the knight’s noble attire. “When did his happen?”“About a month or so ago father,” replied Kendrik proudly. “I wanted you and Betaine there, but time was of the essence for the Baron to have all ready squires knighted.”“And who were you squired to?” asked Lars.“The Baron’s champion, Sir Brand,” replied Kendrik. “I have been blessed by the grace of Pelor to have this opportunity.  Not many commoners like us get knighted.”“Aye, that is true,” replied Lars. “Though I was angry that you left me in the lurch like that Kendrik.  I guess your destiny lies beyond little Axbridge.  You have done well my boy.”“I can’t think of higher praise than that,” said Kendrik with a smile, and he hugged his father again.“I was under the impression that the Baron’s knights were the epitome of manhood.  What’s with the girlish behaviour?” stated Lars distastfully, pushing himself aways from his son’s embrace.  “Not even Betaine would act like this.”“Can a son not be happy to be home?” asked Kendrik, annoyed at his father’s comment. “But you are right.  How have you been anyway?”“The smith is busy, and that makes me happy,” replied Lars.  “Young Jakob seems quite capable, and will make a fine smith.”  “Jacob?  The widow’s son?” asked Kendrik.“Aye,” replied Lars.  “And without a father, it be best that he learn a trade to support his mother and make him an attractive catch.”“I can see that, and from making weapons I see,” stated an observant Kendrik. “I am pleased.”“What has brought you home?” asked Lars brusquely. “Surely not to come play family reunion?”  “You are right father,” explained Kendrik. “Though it has been good to see you all again.  My companions and I hunt the kidnappers of my beloved, the Baron’s ward Lady Elanor.  She appears to have been taken to the Caves.”“Your beloved?” queried Lars. “This just gets better and better.   Has she been betrothed to you?”  “No not yet father,” replied Kendrik. “I have been given permission by Baron Aldred to court Lady Elanor, but I fear that the bastard Caligulus will kill her before I can rescue her.”“And what of Elaine?”“Elaine and I were betrothed long before I became a knight, father,” replied Kendrik hesitantly.  “I am in love with another now.”“I see,” noted Lars.  “The girl not good enough for you?”“Father please,” pleaded Kendrik.  “I didn’t fall in love with another to spite you.  Elaine was not happy to be betrothed to me.  She now has the chance to find another.”“Once I compensate her father for your abandonment,” added Lars.Kendrik looked at his feet, not quite sure what to say.  “I can see this isn’t getting anywhere…”“Tell me about her.”“What?”“Tell me about her,” repeated Lars.“Father, where do I start?” asked Kendrik rhetorically, his face coming alive as Elanor’s face drifted before his mind’s eye. “She is not unlike mother.  Her beauty is beyond words, and she is kind and good like no other person I have seen.  I hope to be able to rescue her at first light and bring her back.  You can see her then.”“This talk is all well and good, but that sword needs to be finished today,” stated Lars. “I would very much like to meet the woman that has taken your heart, but until then I will be working that forge.”  Turning his back on Kendrik, Lars picked up his tongs and fished about in the barrel of water for the sword blade he had dropped within it.“I understand.  I should leave you be,” replied Kendrik, disappointed that the longest discussion he had had with his father in years was over.  Lars turned to go back to the forge, but glanced over his shoulder andlooked at Kendrik in the eyes. “Jakob is good, but not as good as you were lad.  If it isn’t beneath you, help me finish this.”“Aye father, I would love to,” replied Kendrick, unable to stop a smile spreading across his face. “Lad, I never said this before, it isn’t my way,” admitted Lars. “But you were a good son, and a fine smith.  Put into your new role the same spirit, and you’ll go far.”“Thank you father,” replied Kendrik as he grasped the handle of the bellows and turned his thoughts, if somewhat briefly, to a more simple matters.</blockquote>

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