The Journeys of Sir Peregor -- as recounted by Lorethew Malcyndran

The Boy
Greetings, I am known as Lorethew Malcyndran, and for some time I have been following the great Paladin Sir Peregor on his quests and travels. I watch and record, to pass on his story to others. It was in the fall of some years past that Sir Peregor and myself came to rest in an inn for the night, in the small village of Cordley. There, we had a most interesting experience that would change our lives for many years to come. It was in this inn that we met the boy, but perhaps it would be better if I told it as the young child told me.

He was dreaming once again in the stables, when he should have been hard at work. Sleeping peacefully upon the straw, he had little notion of what would befall him this day. With a large bang, the door to the stable crashed open, followed by the boy's sister. She was a lovely little child, with deep blue eyes and flowing blonde hair. Her voice was not so lovely at the moment, however.

"Wake up! Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, flinging herself on his chest.

Dragging himself out of his slumber, the boy shoved his sister off of him as he scrambled to get up.

"What is it, Mairi? Didn't you see that I was sleeping?" he said, as he poked her in the arm.

Mairi punched him in the gut in retaliation, "Uncle Fourin is coming! One of the stable hands saw you asleep and told him. You're in trouble now."

He moaned and ran for the door, but it crashed into his head as it swung open to reveal his uncle, a tower of muscle, hair and a rather large gut.

"Boy!" he shouted, "Sleeping again!? I'll learn you right yet, boy."

Fourin reached down and effortlessly lifted the boy by the collar of his shirt, bringing him up to his face.

"I'm going to put you to work, boy..I'm going to give you to Sedge for the day," he yelled into the boys face, blasting him with his sour breath.

The boys eyes widen with surprise, "No! Not that! I can't stand manure, Uncle! And Sedge is so mean to me too," he whined and scrambled to get free.

"No getting out of it, boy. You'll either learn to work like you should, or you'll be shoveling after the horses til you're good and old."

With that, he threw the boy back to the ground. "Now get to work, before I find something worse for you to do. Mairi, come with me, your Aunt has some chores for you in the kitchen."

Fourin stomped out with a huff, Mairi following after him, a look of concern for her brother on her cute little face.

It was then that Sedge limped in, followed by his usual retinue of flies and fetid odor. He was a truly disreputable man, covered in rags and sores and smelling of bad wine, old sweat, and of course, manure. He advanced on the boy, an evil grin across his ugly face.

"Well, boy, you're mine for the day."

He cackled to himself as he headed out, motioning for the young boy to follow him. With a sigh, he pulled himself up and followed Sedge out, wishing for something to keep him from never shoveling manure again.

Several hours later, the young boy stumbled into his room in the inn, mumbling to himself. He was exhausted, dirty, and worst of all, he smelled like manure. All he wanted to do was take a bath and climb onto his pallet and go to sleep. As he was pulling his shirt off, his Uncle burst in with a resounding crash.

"Boy! What do you think you're doing? Theres customers to serve downstairs!"

"But, Uncle, I'm tired and I'm dirty; can't I at least take a bath?" The boy asked pleadingly.

His uncle then reached behind the door to pull out a large bucket of ice-cold water. Leaving no time for the tired boy to react, Fourin dumped the contents of the bucket on his small head, chilling him to the bone.

"There! Now you're clean! Put something clean on and get your arse downstairs!"

His uncle looked satisfied. "Don't just stand there, move!"

The boy stripped his wet clothes off, and shivering, pulled some fresh ones on and bolted out the door. Chuckling to himself, Fourin followed the boy down.

The foreroom of the inn was quite busy this night, there was a bard in town, and Fourin had the luck of getting him to perform in his inn instead of the others. Sir Peregor and I had arrived only a few hours before, and we had settled ourselves at a table at the corner, calmly speaking and observing the activities of the night. The boy and his sister were both hustling in and out of the kitchen, desperately trying to keep up with the large number of patrons this night. At one time during the night, the boy waited on our table. He struck me as a well-mannered child, but he looked at us oddly, smelling the air almost unconsciously before heading off to the kitchen with our order.

As the evening grew late, and men who had to get up with the dawn headed off to bed, it was then that I noticed several men dressed in identical dark cloaks enter the inn. They found their way to a table at the opposite corner from us, glancing around the room warily. The boy went towards their table to take their order, but stopped suddenly, shivering, and headed to the table next to theirs. The leader of the dark-cloaked men happened to look in our direction and seemed to give a start. He motioned to a few of his men, and they slowly stood up and walked over to our table. I noticed that the boys eyes followed them as they walked toward us, full of fear and curiosity.

"Peregoooor," one hissed in a cold voice as they stopped in front of our table, "It was wrong of you intervene at Shard. Our Master sends his regards."

He gestured to the men surrounding him, and they drew their swords, black blades that were surely covered in poison. Sir Peregor threw the table up into their faces, pushing me behind him as he gracefully drew his own sword and leaped into the fray.

Sir Peregor was mighty as usual of course, his armor and sword gleaming and flashing as he periodically set upon each of the dark-cloaked men. He flew to one side of the room, drawing them away from the crowd. He lunged and impaled one in the gullet with one smooth motion and swept anothers legs from beneath him before cracking his skull with his gauntleted fist. Sir Peregor moved from one to the other, slashing here, thrusting here, always keeping the advantage, never loosing himself to his emotions. He was a truly awesome swordfighter.

The dark-cloaked men were odd though. They did bleed as other men do, but they moved with a serpentine-like grace, and when they died it was as if the color in their bodies drained from them. Surely these were not normal men, but some foul creation; perhaps undead servants of their dark Master.

There was only one of the dark-cloaked men left who was not dead or had run. As Sir Peregor slowly advanced on him, his sword ready, I noticed the boy and his sister under a table, watching the event in obvious fear. I prayed the man would not notice them there. At that moment, he seemed to sense their presence and turned around to grasp under the table for one of them; his hand caught upon the girl and he drug her out from under the table, despite the boys efforts to hold onto his sister.

With one motion, he brought a jagged knife to the girls tender throat.

"Don't come a ssstep clossser, Peregor, unless you wish to sssee thisss child's life pour out in front of you." He leered as he pressed the knife tighter into the whimpering girls neck. "Drop your weapon, and ssstep back."

Sir Peregor slowly knelt and laid his sword on the floor of the inn, raising his hands as he slowly stood. "There is no need to harm the girl, fiend. She is innocent, and no concern of your masters."

I could see the young boy shuddering under the table, reaching for his sister.

"Ah..but that is your mistake, foolish Paladin. You should not have interfered, and for that you will pay and so will the child."

The dark cloaked one slowly drew his knife across the girls throat, her life-blood fountaining out in a crimson stream. He dropped the dying child and ran for the door of the inn.

An unearthly howl pierced the silence of the inn, so full of rage and grief, I wondered what manner of wolf could it have come from? I then noticed the boy, his eyes full of tears and angst, his lips drawn back in a feral snarl, leaping across the room towards the fleeing dark-cloaked man. The boy later told us that he had no recollection of what happened, only seeing his sister die, and his world filling with red. Sir Peregor and myself, and everyone else left in the common room of the inn were very aware of what happened next.

The boy set upon the man just before he was able to leave the door, and tore into him with his teeth and hands. I watched, stunned, as that small child ripped that man to shreds like some raging animal, a vengeful wolf filled with nothing but sorrow and rage. And as soon as it started, it was over, blood covering the floor of the inn, the savaged body of the dark-cloaked man slowly beginning to drain of color. My heart leaped out to the boy as I saw him crawl over to the body of his sister, and cradle her lifeless body in his blood-drenched arms. He then seemed to blink back into awareness, his eyes so full of grief I thought my own heart would break at the sight. The sad child threw back his head and let loose that unearthly howl again, in the distance, I could hear the howls of the wolves, answering him.

The Innkeeper Fourin, and his wife came forward eyeing the boy warily. I could tell they wanted to comfort him, but could not bring themselves to touch him after witnessing the result of his rage upon that fiend. Sir Peregor came forward, and gently took the body of the girl from the boys arms and wrapped her in his cloak. He gently gave the girl to her Aunt and Uncle, and gave them a note and a large sack of coins.

"I am truly sorry, I wish this had not happened the way it did. Please take the coins for the damage to your inn, and the note will insure a proper burial for your daughter. If you ever have need of me, show this note at any Paladin guild, and I will be contacted."

"Th-thank you, Sir. She's not our daughter, neither is the boy. I..we." the Aunt stammered as she clutched the girls body to her. "We adopted them after their parents went away..but Sir, we cannot take that..that..boy."

"You saw what he did!" exclaimed Fourin, "There something wrong with him. What if he does it again?" He shuddered, "..he's like some kind of demon."

Sir Peregor sadly shook his head, turned back to the boy and walked to him. The boy was simply kneeling there, in a pool of his sisters blood, staring at his own bloodied hands, softly murmuring to himself. "..I could have done something. I should have done something. Mairi..I'm sorry." He stopped murmuring as Sir Peregor raised his chin to look into the boy's grief-stricken face.

"Boy, you did what you could. Sometimes, there is nothing we can do. Know that your sister is in a much better place and that you will see her again someday." Sir Peregor let go of the boys chin. "Boy, you will come with me. I think that this place will no longer be a happy place for you. Leave your things, we'll get you new items in the next village. I worry that there may be more of those fiends, and I do not want more to suffer than already have." He stood and lifted the boy by his shoulders.

"..yes Sir" the boy weakly mumbled as he glanced one last time at his Aunt and Uncle.

Sir Peregor and I gathered our things and made our way to the door. Sir Peregor stopped suddenly and turned back to the boy following in our steps. "Boy, do you have a name?"

"Gabriel, Sir. My name is Gabriel."

And so began a new chapter in our lives, one that changed us forever. But that is a tale for another time, of the story of young Gabriel and his many adventures with us and his own growth into a young man.

Lorethew Malcyndran