The Time Has Come

==3.2.1)MARCUS==
It was late at night in Farna Castle. The last remnants of dinner were being cleared away by the servants. The halls were quiet and the lights in the barracks outside were all but out. In the master bedroom sat Lord Marcus Scott. He was sipping on a one hundred year whiskey that had cost the same as a whole year’s wages for one of the castle guards. 
Ah…life is sweet.
Marcus rarely did anything lately…He didn’t have to. He had secured Farna and many of the other smaller villages in his region through the use of his cronies. 
And fear.
There were often squabbles over boundaries with the Fairfax’s of Bowerstone. But he knew how to keep them sweet. 
Keep them onside.
He smelt the aroma of the whiskey. A full smelling aroma that had notes of plum. He took a moment to look about his grand bedroom. The fire burned strong and provided ample light and warmth to the grand four poster bed and works of art hung about the room. As he sat in his chair he looked up at his favourite piece of art. It was portrait of a man stood outside Farna Castle. The gold framed painting had a name at the bottom. 
“Lord Reginald Scott of Farna”
His pose was stood tall, chest out. Many people said it looked like he was standing proud. Marcus always thought that the smirk that his brother had in the painting was that of a nervous one. He knew that he was weak. He Knew that he would eventually fail as lord of this house. 
That smirk is a cowards smirk.
“Oh brother. How proud of me you would have been…my little empire is thriving.” He held up the class of whisky and made a toast to the brother he had murdered decades before. He stood up, his legs were heavy, it could have been the whiskey or the fact that now in his fifties he wasn’t the young man he once was. 
He started to undress to retire when there was a knock at the chamber door. 
Who dares knock at this time?
He opened the large wooden chamber door. His personal door guard stood there looking worried he had disturbed the lord. 
“Well, What is it Boy? And be quick.”
“Sir Fredrick m’lord he needs to speak with you right away.” the guard look flustered. 
“Can it not wait until the morning?”
“I don’t think so m’lord.” 
“Okay send him in.” Marcus withdraw back to his chair and poured himself another glass of whisky. 
This better be good otherwise. 
There was a hurried knock at the door. 
“Enter” his lordship shouted. 
Sir Fredrick Pennyton entered. It had been many weeks since the last time Marcus had seen Sir Fredrick. 
He has gotten fatter and those will lines were getting deeper and more prominent.
“You need to cover those will lines sir and stop eating pies. It’s only a matter of time before the heroes guild discover….” Marcus was interrupted. 
“My Lord I’m sorry I have news, I thought you needed to know right away.” He patted down his red and yellow official Farna Guard uniform over his tubby frame. 
“Proceed.” Marcus returned intrigued.
“My Lord I’m not sure how to tell you this. You see there appears to be…well there is man who….how can I put this.” He rubbed his face. 
“Sir. You have one more chance before I cut off a hand. My patience is warring thin.” Marcus stood up and approached the Mage guard Captain. 
“Okay sorry My lord. Its…its….well There is man calling himself Kingsley Scott…and he’s a Hero of the guild…..but it cant be your nephew can it?”
Marcus stood still and stared at the large man. He felt the sweat from his forehead start to accumulate into droplets. He suddenly had an itchy head. He scratched it. 
“The boy escaped sure. But he must of died in the woods filled with Hobbes, Balverines and giant beetles he was only a child…..It can’t be the same one we would have known sooner.”
Or could it be?
He walked over to the fire to warm up. He suddenly felt cold. An emotional mix of anger and annoyance with a hint of uncertainty. 
“If it’s him he could lay claim to lordship of this house.” He said into the fire. 
“He would have to get past a Century of guards first to unseat you my lord. The people of Farna are too scared to oppose you I have made sure of that. Only last week I hung a woman in the street for…”
“Silence. Where did you get this information?”
“It was from our own guards, five separate eye witnesses saw a huge man wielding a giant axe obliterate a group of bandits in Bowerstone. He was asked after who he was. And he shouted and he screamed in the streets. It could be heard all around the city it was that powerful. He screamed his name loud and clear for all to hear. Kingsley Scott.”
Marcus mopped the sweat from his brow. 
“He wanted us to know he was still alive. He must have been using a different name and alias before. The guild will always protect their heroes. Especially ones that want to keep secrets” 
It suddenly dawned on him. 
Hero?
“He must have the strength like my father did? We need to….we need. Just get all the men ready to defend the castle. NOW!”
“But my lord, we don’t even know where he is.” The Sir Fredrick said. 
“I do….He will already be on his way. Go now and make preparations.”
The large man quickly hurried off. 
The anger bubbled up inside he smashed the glass of whisky in the fire. A plume of flame rose inside the fireplace. 
Lord Marcus Scott looked up at the portrait of his brother. His brother’s expression had now seemed to change for him like he was seeing it from a different perspective. 
That smirk wasn’t a nervous smirk anymore. 
That smirk was a mocking smirk.
==3.2.2)KINGSLEY==
The darkness of the forest that surrounded Farna castle had tonight some guests. These guests basked in the cover that it provided. They were invisible. They blended in with the trees and like the darkness these guests wanted to smoother the lights of the castle and extinguish the source of its light. 
The scruffy heroes had assembled.
Kingsley knelt at the base of a tree and looked back at men who followed him. These five men who were willing to put their lives at risk to help him right the wrongs his uncle had cast upon Albion. 
Immediately behind Kingsley was Ron Shadowheart meticulously going through various Decks of cards he had hidden all about his person. His youthful expression and his flame red hood was a good cover to hide the fact that actually he was now a highly skilled hero of will and to the unsuspecting enemy could be very dangerous. The Kid had even started to develop those will lines that great mages seemed to get. Kingsley never really understood it but he knew it had something to do with how Heroes will flowed out of them and how strong the mages will actually was. 
Yeah he’s a good Kid….and stuck by me from the beginning. Hopefully he won’t die many times today…dozy bugger. Probably best he got the gifts instead of me.
Behind Ron was Ravi. He looked uncomfortable and fidgety. 
“You okay Ravi?” Kingsley whispered towards the long haired man. 
“I am having issues.” He replied pointing up towards the moon. The moon was full and bright. When Kingsley looked carefully at Ravi he could see the man was shaking and that his skin looked hot, sweaty and clammy.
“Okay it won’t be long Ravi can you hold on a while longer.” Kingsley said concerned. 
“Yeah…for a while. It isn’t the easiest thing to control. Well…. not while that thing is full anyway.”
Kingsley Nodded. 
He probably is thinking about his pack…..and making sure that he gets out of this alive and back to them….I need to make sure he does. 
Next to Ravi was Terrence “River” Shale. River had in recent months tended to spend more and more time teaching the students. He definitely had a talent for it and the majority of the students always commented on how effective he was at teaching. He nodded at Kingsley whilst checking his long bow. 
“After this Kingsley….are we even?” he asked seriously plunking loose threads from the bow. 
“You don’t owe me anything River.” Kingsley replied thinking back to the time River needed Kingsley’s help. 
I would do it again….
“Aye…I do…... I need you to say it…..Please.”
Kingsley swallowed the lump in his throat, his mouth was dry. 
“Yeah……yeah River we will be even.”
Kingsley looked again at River; a tear rolled down his cheek and caught the light of the moon. 
Behind the tormented Hero of Skill was Heid.
Heid Wiell.
Today it appeared that Heid had various weapons from hidden daggers attached to his legs to large Morning star he had in a sling over his back. He stared forwards with this intense look. 
It scared Kingsley.
“Are you going to be okay? Heid…..HEID” the last part of Kingsley’s whisper was almost a shout. 
“This…..” he started in his low toned voice. 
“…Is the day. I become a hero…a true hero. This is the day that I will stand toe to toe with the greatest heroes that have even walked these lands.”
Kingsley was a little confused. 
“But you are already a hero Heid. You don’t need to prove yourself.”
He looked at Kingsley. 
“This is the day….Kingsley….Mark my words.”
Kingsley could only nod. He thought it best to. Heid was still very mysterious to all of the scruffy heroes.
Last but not least was Bishop. He used to be a skinny little runt of a mage when they started. 
How far had he come.
He was the only one of them all who was smiling. He had a confidence now. He knew he was powerful. It could be seen clearly. His will lines were deep and strong. The feats of will he had demonstrated recently had propelled him to the top of the popularity ratings of the scruffy heroes. Kingsley had even seen a doll made of Bishop with poorly made dangly ginger wool for its hair. There it was on the gift stall nestled close to twinblade and the Hero of Oakvale.
“Hey Kingsley. So what’s it going to be Fire or Ice?”
Kingsley Smiled
“I would just settle for revenge…..followed by living happyily ever after with Emily.”
The ginger mage let out a small giggle. 
“No spell for that directly…..Fire it is….”
From beyond the forest came the sound of soldiers. The castle gates opened and although it was dark Kingsley could see that centuries of additional soldiers were gathering in and around The castle. 
“They know we are coming. They are fortifying there defences. Must be five or six hundred soldiers.”
It doesn’t seem great odds. Six hundred to Six….still this is what I trained for.
He touched the tattoo on his chest and read the words. 
“For Them”
It renewed his spirit. It was nearly time. 
Father, Mother, Louisa, Reid, Ronald, Issiah.
“What we waiting for?” Ron whispered to Kingsley. 
Kingsley addressed everyone with the answer. 
“Soon there will be a change of guard.” He pointed up to the high walls of the castle to the patrolling men on its wall. 
“As they change that’s when we attack. Catch them off guard. Does everyone know what they are doing?” 
Collectively they all agreed. 
Kingsley looked back towards the castle he could feel his anger starting to bubble away under the surface. 
“Because tonight is the night the Darkness prevails”
==3.2.3)THE LORDS HEIR==
There was a buzz about the castle. One in which the heir to the Seat of Farna hadn’t experienced in years. She looked out of her bedroom window high above the castle courtyard and peered out. 
The barracks were up even at this hour; men were coming out and forming into centuries in the court yard. From beyond the castle walls she could see reinforcements coming at least another four hundred men. 
What in Albion is going on here?
She quickly put on again the clothes she had worn that day. It was a scruffy pair of baggy brown trousers and a brown tunic. They were her most comfortable clothes. Her Lord Father Marcus didn’t approve of such garb. He wanted her to only wear dresses all the time like a proper little noble Heir. 
Dresses are not me….. Battle on the other hand….
Excitedly she ran down the stairs to the court yard. Men were running by getting in formation suited in the finest armour that Farna could buy. She grabbed the first guard she could. 
“What is going on here? I demand to know.” She tugged at his arm firmly. 
“Mi’lady, I am sorry but you cannot be out here. Orders for his lordship. I must escort you back to you room. Where you will be safe.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. 
She immediately grabbed the back of his wrist and in one fluid motion span him around forcing his hand up the middle of his back. 
He shouted out in a scream of pain. 
“Mi’lady! Please! I am sorry. I’m just following orders is all. Go speak to you father.” 
She let go of her grasp and shoulder barged him to the floor. 
“Do not lay a hand on me again sir or it will be your job.” She made sure to emphasise the last word. 
It didn’t take her long to find her father. He was sat in his seat in the great hall. 
He was talking to Sir Fredrick. 
She near really liked Sir Fredrick. There was something about him that didn’t sit well with her. All the reports she got from the guards were of his good doings. 
She could see through that. The man was evil.
Her lord father spotted straight away. 
“What do you think you are doing? You can’t be here. Go back to your room immediately.” He said each of his words sounded stressed. 
Her father had that vein in his forehead prominent the same one he always had when he was stressed. 
Good men always get stressed.
That’s what he used to tell her when she was child when ever she caught him shouting at somebody. He used to use the same excuse when he told her off for talking about her mother. 
“Your mother died in childbirth. That’s all you need to know. I am here I love you dearly. What else do you need to know….I’m sorry I shout at you. Good men always get stressed….”
“Father, what is going on here? Are we under attack? I can help.” 
“You are my only daughter, and heir to my seat. I cannot risk you waving about that sword. You are a lady. Be a lady. Not a soldier.”
The words only served to aggravate her. 
“I am a better fighter then many of these men. I can be of use.”
“The only use you can be now is staying alive. GO TO YOUR ROOM NOW!”
Her father exploded with anger. Something she had never seen before. It took her aback. 
“Guards. Please help my daughter back to her room.”
Four guards approached her from behind and grabbed her arms. 
“What? What is this? I am the lady of this house!”
“I am sorry child I cannot risk you. I will explain everything in time.”
She was pulled away and led up stairs back to her room. 
The door slammed shut behind her and she could hear the door being locked. 
“Who is attacking us?” she shouted to the guards stationed outside her door. 
“Heroes mi’lady” one of the guards replied. 
“Heroes? From the guild?” she replied with her ear to the door. 
“Yes.” The guard replied. 
“What all of them? We have six hundred men outside.”
“No mi’lady”. 
“Well how many then?”
“………” there was a muffled sound from the guard. 
“What I didn’t hear. How many are attacking us.”
“Six, Mi’lady.” The guards said with a hint of embarrassment. 
“Six heroes vrs six hundred trained Farna guards? You must be joking! Let me out of this cell at once!”
“We can't we are under orders.”
Red faced she went to her bed and pulled out the chest from beneath. She opened it up. Inside was all sorts of armour and weaponry. She selected an outfit. Light weight but high protection a light weight sword and shield and an oak longbow. There was a rope with a grappling hook to. She used the hook on the bed frame and lowered the rope out of her window. 
Six heroes versus six hundred and one.
==3.2.4)JACK Versus KINGSLEY==
Sebastian had sobered up over the last hour or so. Ron looked like he was done for the night drooling all over the bar in which his head was placed. 
Liz was on to her fourth wine.
This family likes a drink. That’s for sure.
The old lady seemed to be enjoying the story. Laughing along and adding little bits here and there that she felt needed to be elaborated on. 
Big Jack was now sitting on the bar laid against the axe. It suited him. Seemed to fit his massive frame. 
Seb had had his suspicions but didn’t have the courage to say anything. It was only when Liz said that name again that Seb reacted. 
“Scotty, can you please pour me another…..”
“Right that’s it! Game over.” Sebastian said jumping off his bar stool. 
“That’s the second time you have being called Scotty, Jack!” Sebastians words were flowing out of him he couldn’t stop them. He found himself pointing at big jack righteously. 
“Yeah, thought you had me fooled didn’t you? Let’s look at the evidence shall we? HMMMM” Seb’s voice seemed to be getting louder and louder. 
Maybe I’m still drunk…..ah well I’ve started now so I will continue.
“Soooooo….you were given the axe correct. Just like Kings in the story……The axe is the perfect size for you. Just like Kings in the story…….You are friends with ron. Just like Kings in the story….”
Seb was on a roll. He felt elated. He grabbed his ale and downed it in one. Big Jack didn’t seem phased by Seb’s revelations. 
“You are nearly seven foot aren't you? Just like Kings in the story….and correct me if I’m wrong but I did see a sideways glance from both you and Ron earlier, when I mentioned it. Lastly, both Ron and Liz here both on separate occasions have called you Scotty. Just like Kings used when he was in hiding. Ladies and gentleman of the jury I present you in the Axe and Scottman….alive and well. Big Jack a.k.a Kingsley Scott.”
Seb felt like he had gone temporarily insane and following his little speech even let out a loud 
“Woooooooo” into the face of Liz. Like he had won a race. All the while both Big Jack and Liz sat there smirking. 
Seb calmed down looking at the expressions on both of their faces. 
“You’re not Kingsley Scott are you Jack?”
“I wish I was. But unfortunately not.” Seb wanted to believe his in argument he wanted to be stood in front of Kingsley. He felt like he knew him now and would of done anything to have met him.
Liz put her old hand on a dissapointed Sebs shoulders. 
“It's time to finish the story young man. It will all make sense after. I promise.”