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See the previous tales: Wyndor's Saga: Chapter 1 -What Has Past- Chapter 2 -What Has Past- Chapter 3 The Green Dragon Inn Bustle at Treacleheim At the Gates of Budd-apest Dragon-Forged Blade in Treacleheim Charlemagne's Residence Dragon Taming For over a year the Algus have menaced the north. After many hard fought battles, Mitgardians had figured out that dragon forged blades as well as burning oil were some of the only items that could slay this formidable race. Even armed with these weapons, Mitgardians found themselves hard pressed by the relentless attacks and seemingly endless armies of the Algus. The fact that they could be killed dispelled the myth that the Algus were a race of undead warriors coming to bring retribution for some past grievance but it still brought Mitgardia no closer to the truth of the Algus’s intent. A council was called and riders were sent from Vaholl instructing the cities and villages of Mitgardia in how best to unite against the threat facing them. Fortresses were also being constructed throughout the clan-lands to act as a wall of defense against the pressing forces of the Algus. These fortresses were manned with a special order of soldiers called the Kylma Katsella (which translated means Cold Watch). The Kylma Katsella would be Mitgardia’s, and in truth, all of Historica’s first line of defense against this threat from the north. Every city across Mitgardia volunteered soldiers to help found this special order and many traveling knights took up the Kylma Katsella’s mantle freely out of a desire to serve a great purpose. As the Kylma Katsella’s fortresses were being built, traders were bringing in as many barrels of Kaliphlinian Oil as they could come by to use in the battles against their foe. The dwarves were also busy, after suffering the shame of losing in their quest into Avalonia they found solace in working with dragon melted metals to forge more blades for the Kylma Katsella. It was still a mystery as to why the Algus were attacking Mitgardia. No one had been able to figure out what they wanted, and all attempts at reasoning with them led to the death of the messengers. Talks had begun of building a wall across the entire northern part of Mitgardia, but there was doubt this gigantic project could even be begun let alone finished before the Algus overran the north. Near Dalig Ulv, mayor Pjeter had ordered the construction of a castle for the use of the Kylma Katsella. They had finished it not more than a week earlier and already Algus rangers had been spotted from the ramparts. Pjeter and a group of men and women joined the forces already at the castle to help turn back the oncoming Algus army. “What are our odds?” asked Mattimeo. “With only one dragon-forged blade, not good” answered Pjeter. “How far away are the traders carrying Kaliphlinian Oil that we were told was coming?” asked Liam. “Still a day’s ride away” replied Pjeter. “Then there’s only one thing to do” said Constance. “We must hold them off until the oil can get here. Then we can equip the men with the oil and fire to finally kill these fiends.” “What you’re suggesting means certain death for many of our number” stated Pjeter, but the resignation in his voice showed he had already come to the same conclusion. When no one else offered a suggestion he said, “Prepare the men. The Algus will attack at dawn. We must hold them off for a day, whatever the cost.” With a grim determination the Kylma Katsella and the men of Dalig Ulv prepared for battle. Archers lined the walls preparing to pepper the Algus with arrows. These arrows, not yet tipped with flaming oil, would do no lasting harm to the Algus, but they would slow down their advance a little. Constance, armed with the sole dragon-forged blade, stood ready with the first wave of soldiers while Mattimeo and Liam prepared the second and third waves. As the sun crested the hills, the Algus advanced on the fortress. Constance and the rest of the men ran to meet the Algus charge. Pjeter and Rothgar had both volunteered to be in the first wave. They both felt it was their duty to show they were willing to do for their people what they were asking their men to do… to die. They fought for what seemed like hours but the sun showed it to be only minutes. Constance looked around her, knowing it was only a matter of time before the first of their men fell. From within the fort, a voice could be heard calling, “Help is coming!” Constance thought it sounded like Valanice’s voice, but that couldn’t be right. She and Wyndor were off in Kaliphlin right now looking for dragons. All of a sudden, the archers heard and felt a THWUMP! on the roof. The men on the battle field looked around to see a pair of giant leathery wings before they heard the ROAR! coming from the beast’s mouth. Wyndor had arrived just in time. The battle was made short work of after that. Wyndor’s dragon spewed flame left and right and gobbled up any Algus who tried to run away. As the mayhem settled and the wounded were brought inside the fort the reality of the situation began to sink in. They had won! They had beat back the Algus this time! Wyndor got down off the dragon and was met with cheers and hearty slaps on the back. But not everything was so bright and cheery. While Wyndor had arrived in time to prevent vast casualties, there was still one person who had suffered mortal injury during the fight. Wyndor and his friends gathered around Pjeter as his strength faded away. “No Pjeter, you can’t go!” cried Wyndor. “I should have flown faster, I should have gotten here sooner!” “There was no way for you to know,” answered Pjeter. “Of all the ways for me to go, this is the way I would have it. Dying in the service of the people under my care. Wyndor, you must be mayor after I’m gone. I’m sure the counsel will agree with my decision.” “Yes, Pjeter” Wyndor said with a sob. “I will take your place.” And with that, Pjeter breathed his last and closed his eyes with a smile.
