Honor - Dupre and the Gargoyles.
A young woman enters the tavern, her step is secure and she smiles open and friendly into the faces of the tavern-goers and eventually takes a seat close to the fireplace. The tavernkeep nods at her and blinks, well knowing that the young woman is a bard, and a popular one at that, even before she unties a small harp from her belt. Her practiced fingers play some accords as if to get used to the feeling of the strings before the woman starts to chant a song. The warm, melodious tone of her voice soon captures the tavern-goers and while the last accords of the song die away a drunk man shouts impatiently: "What story will you tell us today, Kaella?" Kaella, the bard, smiles and while her fingers test the strings for the upcoming accords she says:"Today, my friends, I will tell you the tale of Dupre and the Gargoyles."
It is common knowledge that the Gargoyle folk joined the Britannian society after the restoration of the Codex of Ultimate Wisdom. It will not surprise you, though, to hear that the treaty between our dear Lord British and Draxinusom, King of Gargoyles, did not instantly bring accord to the two races. The fear of the unkown, the fear of creatures that did not look like humans, was buried deep and certain - I might add ignorant - humans continued to fear and hate the Gargoyles, and certain intractable Gargoyles continued to regard humanity with enraged contempt.
The most notorious Gargoyle fighter of those days listened to the name Gratagmalem. Among his people he was renowned equally for his outstanding intellectual and physical power at the same time, and when the contracts were signed and peace was established Gratagmalem went outlaw and collected some likeminded Gargoyles around him. This fierce group devoted themselves to burning and pillaging the remote crofts and farms of the land, stopping short only at outright murder of unresisting enemies. Despite this last resort of honor those Gargoyles were the cause of much suffering, loss and deprivation to their - unluckily often innocent - victims.
Now, there was a certain Inn, some of you might know it, located halfway between Britain and Yew. This inn was famous for its excellent autumn ale, and this ale was highly appreciated by many fine folks who frequently visited this tavern. When the new casks were breached - and I assume that this has not changed until now - tents had to be pitched on the ground to hold all the guests, and for a week or two in autumn the place took on the air of a festival or fair.
It was during that time that Gratagmalem choose to attack the inn, and followed by his band he headed towards it in the late afternoon, surrounding the place and quickly defeating the few hired guards. The innkeepers of course were not prepared for such an attack, and now that the few guards were defeated the inn was more or less defenseless, although a few drunkards were quick to reach for their knives. The Gargoyles, though, saw their advantage and ordered all the humans to leave forthwith or to see the whole place burned around their heads.
At this, one lone festival-goer stepped out from the crowd with a grim smile on his face. He donned the clothes of a gentleman, yet his hand was resting on a sword that looked more like it belonged to a knight than to a noble. Then the man spoke, and there was not the slightest shiver in his voice although he was one and the gargoyles were many. "I am Dupre, Knight and Paladin, and I call on yout to cease this unlawful incursion, and to surrender in the name of Lord British."
Gratagmalem only laughed, and well aware of his advantage he replied: "Of all names of man or Gargoyle to conjure with, that one is the least likely to inspire fear in my heart. I reject your deman for surrender." This the Gargolye fighter said, although I admit that those are not the exact words he used - Gargoyles have their own, peculiar way of speach and the hour is late already. Still, the sense remains the same and I will not bother you with the specialties of the Gargoyle language and culture at that point.
Dupre looked straight into the eyes of Gratagmalem and said calmly: "Then let us settle this honorably. I shall face you or any of your troops in singly combat, with the winner to determine the fate of this Inn."
Gratagmalem laughed again at the human's audacity. A human, defeating him or any of his gargoyles? To Gratagmalem this sounded more than ridiculous, and so he replied: "Very good, then, man, your proposal intrigues me. You shall face three of my brothers, and if you defeat all three I shall leave this place standing, asking only a suitable forfeit in return for my generousity".
With a chuckle in his voice Gratagmalem named his three champions. The first one was a great brute, almost 10 feet tall, a mace of solid iron in his muscular hands. The second one was a young champion of the Gargoyles, armed with a sword that was almost as long as Dupre was tall. The third was Gratagmalem's chief lieutenant himself, yielding one bloodthirsty, great-bladed battle axe in each hand.
Dupre clamly looked at his opponents and when he unsheathed his own weapon the involuntary audience stepped back, afraid to be involved into the fight this honourable man was going to fight for their safety and their lives. There was none among them who did not adore the courage of this man, and there were only few who did not fear that the noble Dupre might be defeated. Nobody doubted that he could kill a Gargoyle, but three of them, one after the other - this did not sound all too fair.
Dupre himself in the meantime did not have the time to worry about his audience and he only heard a half of the silent shouts and good wishes. What they could not know was that Dupre was a veteran of many battles against dragons, daemons, giants and other evil critter, and aye, it had happened in the past that he had to face a gargoyle as well. He did not fear the size or fierceness of these foes, and even if he should be defeated he would at least have given his life to protect the ones of innocents.
So Dupre did not hesitate to engage the first Gargoyle to a fight, his blade cut through the air and the flesh of his opponent in silver circles, and soon it was clear that he was way too fast for the powerfully swung mace of his opponent. It did not take long and the gargoyle fell to the ground, bleeding and badly injured, but still alive.
The crowd hestitadely applaused and some whistles were heard when the second Gargoyle champion stood to face Dupre. As I noted this opponent was young and fast, and for a while Dupre had a hard time to parry the hits of the man-long sword yielded with the heat of youth. Now, if Dupre had been a young man and not the experienced fighter he was he would have probably been defeated. But Dupre had fought more powerful enemies than that one, and so he patiently waited and blocked the swings of his foe although his arms were getting heavy, and when the gargoyle forget to take care for his own defense he quickly countered the furious attack and his blade found its target again and again. The gargoyle fell to the ground, defeated, hardly breathing, and was carried away by his friends.
Now it was time to face the last Gargoyle fighter, and when he stomped close to Dupre even the brave man could not help but admire his strenghth and obvious dexterity. Dupre was breathing heavily and sweat flew down his face in small streams, and he was well aware of the pain in his arms caused by the enormous hits of his second opponent. Yet, Dupre did not ask for a break, and after he wiped away the sweat he gripped his sword tighter and faced the gargoyle.
The young woman pauses, waiting for her story to settle. The melodious sound of her voice still hangs in the air, and as she looks into the faces of her admittedly not too civilized audience she realises with a smile that they seem to be captured by her story. The bard puts the small harp to the side and accepts an offered mug with ale with a thankful smile. After she has emptied the glass and put it on a table the hands with the long, trained fingers stroke over her blue skirt and from the top of her pack she takes a hat. "Ladies and Gentleman, I hope you liked my tale so far! I would love to tell you the rest of it, but I dare to ask for a little coin for my efforts!" She chuckles and watches the hat passing around in the tavern. When it is returned to her she notices that it is heavy, and among many copper and silver pieces she realises some with a golden shine. A content smile flits over her face when she thanks her audience and prepares for the second part of her story. Quickly her fingers hurry over the strings of the harp when she starts to sing again and her full voice fills the small room completely.
The third Gargoyle did not plan to follow the example of his companions, and so he rushed towards Dupre with a war cry on his lips. They fought for a while and the crowd as well as the band of gargoyles held their breath. One time the gargoyle chief-lieutenant seemed to dominate the fight, causing Dupre a hard time in ducking away from the swirling axes. Then again Dupre countered, pressing on his opponent with his single blade. This game went on for a while and none of the spectators could have said who would eventually prevail. Then, again, the gargoyle pressed on Dupre, and again Dupre ducked away from the axes. This time, though, he did not retreat but hurry forwards, while his blade moved upwards with a sharp hiss to cut into gargoyle flesh once more. Dupre barely had enough time to draw back his sword when the gargoyle fell to the ground already where he remained without a move. The crowd celebrated and shouted while the friends of the fallen gargoyle pitied the death of such a strong fighter.
Breathing heavily, wet of his sweat and blood that was only partly his, Dupre looked at Gratagmalem once more. Strangely the leader of the gargoyle band seemed to be even more amused, and now that the last gargoyle was defeated he announced: "I shall honour my word, oh man, but first I mus see my forfeit paid. And my price, Sir Knight, is you!"
"I will gladly give my life for the safety of these people," Dupre replied, prepared to face his death. "Though you may find the collecting of it more costly still." A grim smile flitted over the face of the noble knight.
"Nay," said the Gratagmalem and shook his head. "I have no use for your head, but rather for your arm. Today you have cost me a lieutenant, and I demand that you shall take his place. You shall join my company, and teach us your ways of battle."
"I will never take up arms against my Lord or his people," Dupre replied hotly.
"I would not ask it," the Gargoyle said with mocking gentleness. "You will come and train my company, and when I order them back into battle you may be excused, if only you give the word to do nothing to resist or hinder our efforts".
Dupre was well aware that Gratagmalem offered him a daemon's bargain, which could lead easily to the utter destruction of a man of honour just like himself. Still, he could not stand idly and see the honest innkeeper ruined, and he knew that although he was a skilled fighter he could not oppose the whole gargoyle company alone. And, maybe most important, at least to him, it would not be fully honourable to refuse the forfeit after fighting under those terms. "Sir," he said, knelt and presented his sword to the mocking brigand.
And so it came that Dupre went to live with the Gargoyles, and as he had promised he drilled and trained them. He soon found out that gargoyles, although mighty and couragous, had little mastery of concerted tactics or strategy, but thanks to the efforts of Dupre on the one and the wits of the gargoyles on the other hand they soon grasped the fundamentals of both. He also soon learned that it was futile to try to hold back knowledge from his command, for under the watchful eye of their leader, any useful hidden expertise was soon sniffed out and analyzed, and presented to all.
Time passed by and Dupre could not refuse when Gratagmalem proposed that they try out their new skills against brigands, pirates or Goblind bands, as Dupre had only sworn to stand apart from actions against the subjects of Lord British. He fought alongside the Gargoyles and saw his teachings tested by fire and many good and helpful things were done by the gargoyle brigands as long as Dupre stayed with them and maybe even called some of them friend.
Gratagnalem, in the meantime, had never forgotten his long-term goals and so the dread day came when the leader of the gargoyle band announced that they would attack a walled town, with the garrison of the Lord's soldiers stationed in it. This objective was certainly wronger than everything the Gargoyles had ever tried before, but Dupre knew that, thanks to his teachings, they were well capable of the task.
On the day of the battle Dupre went up to a hill overlooking the doomed town, a grim expression on his face and his mind overshadowed by dire thoughts, still he would not turn away from the evil he had - unwantingly - caused. But while he waited there, praying for a miracle, arguing with his fate, suddenly a small group of the Gargoyle band approached him and asked an unexpected question.
"Lieutentant," their spokesman said. "we know that you base all your decisions on the virtue of Honor, which is a strange concept to us, but nonetheless we wish to know if this is an honourable fight today."
Living amongst the gargoyles for quite a while had taught Dupre a lot about those creatures, and so he also knew about the cool power of the Gargoyle intellect, and that any attempt to dissemble or dissuade would be immediately perceived and would discredit him forever among the gargoyles. Also, as the man of Honor he was, he was minded of his oath to Gratagmalem to do nothing to subvert his plans, and so, after a moment of thought, he decided to keep his answer as straight and honest as he could.
"You have been told by your Captain that Lord British is a tyrant. Well then, it is no dishonour to take up arms against tyranny, if that is truly what you believe. However, your people do not extract oaths of fealty as mine do, and I have often heard your Captain say that you follow him at the call of your reason and of your own sense of what is right, which is the Gargoyle way. Now your hearts and minds have moved you to ask wether the fight today is honourable. Perhaps the question itself is its own answer."
The Gargoyles remained silent for a little while and their eyes rested at Dupre, then they went part again to dispute the question among themselves, and the end result was that fulyl a third of the band declined to follow Gratagmalem into combat against the town. And one young, hot blooded Gargoyle of impetuous nature (and it will not suprise you to hear that he was one of the champions Dupre had to defeat to save the inn) took it upon himself to fly down and warn the garrison of the pending attack.
Gratagmalem, of course, could not call off the battle and his heart was filled with anger and cold rage. So he led Gargoyles who were still loyal to him towards the town, but the warned and ready defenders the diminishedd Gargoyle force could not prevail, and after a long and bloody fight that forced a lot of victims on both sides, they eventually were defeated. Gratagmalem himself, though, was slain.
The Gargoyles who had refused the battle - and even some of the survivors - returned to Dupre who looked at them with a proud smile, thinking that he had probably taught them better than he thought in the first place. They begged that he continue to lead them as he had in the past, against brigands and pirates and monsters and all other critter that threatens the safety of our wonderful lands so that the humans could see that Gargoyles wer capable of service to all. Dupe joyfully agreed and the band was named the Locusts of Britannia, and I am sure that at least some of you have already heard about their deeds. Over the years they won great renown and did much good, and dedicating their lives to the principle of the virtue Honor they certainly helped to diminish the fear and distrust among the human population of Britannia.
