Saddle and Sand (Ride 2)

by Savan, Annalist

Sit down, traveller. Let me tale you a tale as old as my people.

The Ochre Knights. Our story begins 86 years ago, when Vengard was still ruled by Godun the Hardy, who was a good leader before he perished during the Orog War. It was during this time that the Order of Fire, wishing to spread the love of the Fire Lord's embrace, sent a group of missionaries to Shedim, the very heart of the Dark God's darkness, to light it from inside.

A noble goal, to be sure, though as the old adage goes, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." And awry they did go. When the Vengard missionaries landed in Shedim, they were of a skewed number. Four Fire Mages, with twelve men-at-arms in tow. But Shedim is not a hospitable land. Oh, the people oft wear a face of delight, but one must never assume the best of all. It wasn't long before the missionaries and their guards were ambushed on the Gold Road to Shedim's capital by howling dervishes. Everything was stolen from them; their crowns, their tools, even their writs of passage. And so they were devastated by the desert, and were so thirsty as to not be able to cry, when they thought of the beautiful land they had left behind.

Needless to say, when they continued to the capital in hopes of aid, they were met with scoffs and hand waving. With no writs, nor a single crown to their name, they were turned away to wander the desert. It was here that the group first began to turn. Not in a dangerous way, but in a practical way, having realized their fate. They began to seek work, hoping to raise the funds to enter the capital on wealth alone.

They began travelling from town to town; the Fire Mages learned to harness the warmth of their new environment to fend off the bandits, and the guards used their own martial prowess to become mercenaries. Their horsemanship was far more skilled than that of the natives, and so it was that with couched lances and thundering charges that they learned to establish dominance.

It was after months of work that these missionaries-turned-mercenaries managed to raise the funds necessary to enter the capital. At this point they had but the clothes on their backs and the weapons at their side, and the red of their livery and robes had faded.

They became known throughout Shedim, traders passing off tales of their work all to every town and tavern they could. Needless to say, the Council was well aware of their tales when they arrived at the capital and paid the entry fee. And it was here that their fates turned. They had expected to be offered free passage back to Vengard, but instead were greeted with open arms and honors.

The Ruling Councilor himself, so pleased to see these "noble warriors," offered them a place within the imperial court. In its dark towers, where scheming is the favorite past-time of all Shedomites, and dark magicks reverberate throughout the thinly layered pleasure palaces of the desert wasteland that is Shedim, did these envoys learn to do their work - protecting the Council of Nine from incessant intrigues.

And now, with so many years having passed, they are still there - preaching the same message, yet just called differently - not missionaries, or infidels, but Ochre Knights - called so because of the color of their livery now having adopted the burnished bronze of Shedim, its rich reds having faded with time.

A last word in this story, which is not yet complete by far, and only serves as a short summary of their adventures, is to be had by me.

*These men that I speak of, all alive except for three, are my brothers, and I am part of their band.*

*We seek the fiery light while we trudge through with saddle and sand,*

*Our Lord forever burns within our heart, within our breast,*

*The Black One, as they call his foe, forever seeks to test,*

*And work we with his children, yes, yet judge you not for 'lest,*

*You are forbidden by the Lord to have your soul be blessed.*