Written by Isabel Harrison and translated by Nathan Dimitrov.

Bells tolled over the sacred city of Bastonne, the epicentre of Bretonnia’s past and dukedom of the legendary Gilles le Breton many centuries ago, for one of its prisoners, a lowly pickpocket inspired by the heroics of Bertrande the Brigand and his Bowmen of Bergerac by the name of Ennar had successfully managed to dig a small tunnel out of his cell using the screws of his chains. An exceptionally short man even by the standards of peasants at only 5 foot 2 inches in height, only Ennar had been able to use this tunnel he’d dug thus leaving all his cell mates to their fates in their sordid dungeons.

Ennar had a good head start, burrowing through the soil floors of the dungeons before falling down a waste chute that landed him in the sewer waters below. The knights searched all over the castle, bewildered as to the peasant’s location while Ennar continued to paddle his way through the sewer system, narrowly creeping through small holes in the walls of dirt that resided there to keep moving.

As the knights of Bastonne searched the castle’s entranceways for Ennar, Duke Bohemond decided to consult Sir Almaric d’ Gaudaron, a grail knight on King Louencour’s council who had been elevated far beyond his station to Archbishop of the Cult of the Lady here in Bastonne following his victories over the Lichemaster Heinrich Kemmler some years ago.

Bohemond entered the cult’s cathedral and found Almaric at its altar, handing a goblet of sorts among a group of damsels and prophetesses as he lead them through a period of confession, whereby he would absolve them of all past sins in the eyes of the lady. Upon seeing the duke enter the cathedral, Almaric bowed respectfully to his guests and made his way to the Duke from whence conversation in high Breton commenced.

Bohemond : “Il y a des nouvelles troublante, votre grâce. Un des prisonniers s’est échappé. ».

Almaric : « On ne s’échappe pas des donjons de Bastonne, mon seigneur. Les habitants de la vile savent que c’est une vérité historique. »

Bohemond : « Il a creusé un tunnel dans le sol de sa cellule menant aux égouts en dessous. Ca serait un miracle si il arrive à les traverser, la plupart sont bouchés ou dévastés depuis notre dernier banquet. »

Almaric : « Je crois aux miracles mon seigneur, ça fait partie de mon boulot. »

Bohemond : « Si il arrivait à s’échapper, c’est moi qui aurait la responsabilité de le recapturer. »

Almaric : « Bien sûr »

Bohemond : « Mais ce ne serait pas parjurer mes vœux de Chevalier, votre grâce ? Ne jamais frapper un manant.»

Almaric : « En effet ça pourrait bien…. Mais les voies de la Déesse sont impénétrables mon seigneur. Poursuivre la lumière de la Damme peut parfois demander la transgression de certains veux moins cruciaux, si il le faut vraiment. »

Bohemond : « Si c’est vous qui le dite, votre grâce, c’est que cela est vraie. »

Almaric : « Parfait, vous ferait donc tous ce qui est nécessaire, si vous pensez en avoir besoin. Bien sûr, l’idéal serait d’avoir un de vos chevalier le tuer à votre place . »

Bohemond : «De toute façon, votre grâce, il n’est qu’un simple voleur .»

Almaric : « Les pires tempêtes se révèlent d’abord par de simples brises, mon seigneur. Et une seule étincelle rebelle pourrait bien rallumer les feux de la rébellion. Ne prenez pas la perte de la réputation de ce château en vain, Tueur de Bêtes. »

Bohemond : « S’il est encore vivant, je le trouverai, votre grâce. »

Almaric : « Je suis sûr que vous y arriverai. Puisse la Dame bénir votre périple. »

Bohemond left the cathedral and returned to his knights while the Archbishop returned to his confessional. The Duke of Bastonne barged outside and mounted his steed before gathering a unit of 30 knights of the realm and knights errant. Bohemond gathered them all closely and gave his orders.

Bohemond : «Nous chevauchons maintenant en quête d’un fugitif, un pickpocket connu sous le nom d’Ennar. Huit d’entre vous partirons à l’Est vers Tharravil, six vers Montford et six autre jusqu’à la frontière Bordelaise. Le reste d’entre vous chevauchera à mes cotés vers le Nord, jusqu’à Gisoreux. Le chevalier qui trouvera Ennar sera présenter à l’évêque…tous comme le cadre de celui qui l’a laissé s’échapper. Maintenant, chevauché comme le vent ! »

The knights rode through all the kingdom for several days, never finding any signs of this wandering peasant. By now they were beginning to fear for the worst, that after escaping the sewer system he had then swam downstream travelled by river before sneaking into Aquitaine via the Forest of Chalons, a location commonly used by brigands that had even been the site of a damsel kidnapping a few months back.

Yet it seemed that the Lady’s fortunes smiled on the nights after all as on the 8th day of searching they finally heard of a blacksmith who had been forced to unlock a pair of iron chains and hand all his money over at knifepoint to an unusually short fellow up North on the road to Gisoreux, on the banks of the River Grismere. Duke Bohemond made full haste, hoping to catch the peasant on his journey…

“Innkeeper, a drink of your most expensive.” Ennar requested upon coming across his first inn on the way to Gisoreux. The journey had been long and far, neither of which was helped by Ennar’s torn, soaking rags he called clothes, yet despite this he had been able to outwit some of the nation’s greatest warriors…or so he thought…

“Show me your money.” The innkeeper replied.

Ennar simply tugged at the bag of coins he’d stolen from the blacksmith. “Don’t hold out on the serving my friend.” Ennar then turned to the other guests at the inn and proclaimed “And the same for anyone who may join me in a toast!”

“Let’s hear your toast.” A voice proclaimed from one of the tables, at which three men wrapped in woollen garments and hoods sat.

“You drink to a special man my friend, someone who has been inside the dungeons of Castle Bastonne and lived to tell the tale.” Ennar boasted.

“Then you drink to me, short man. I have laid eyes upon those dungeons.” The hooded figure continued.

“A blacksmith perhaps? A carpenter? A stone-cutter even? But a prisoner from inside Bastonne?” Ennar commented, feeling triumphant in his escape.

“I never said I was a prisoner.” Suddenly, the hooded figure placed a helmet on the table, a knight’s helmet. The robed figures at the table all stood up, discarded their woollen disguises and revealed themselves as Bohemond and his knights while the rest of his unit surrounded the village by horseback. “If you had stuck to the river, you might have stood a chance, Ennar.” Bohemond commented.

“You’re right.” Ennar responded as he eyed all the potential exits to this trap and how he would need to act to escape capture.

“Take him.” Bohemond commanded as he remained at the table bench, hoping he wouldn’t need to break his vows by fighting a lowly peasant. The knights who’d previously sat by their duke paced over to Ennar with their swords in hand, ready to strike this insolent bumpkin as one of them grabbed him by his shirt.

• Laugh React: The peasant squirmed under the knight’s grip but found no way to wrestle loose from his hold. And thus, with a single blow from his sword this nameless knight of the realm struck Bastonne’s first ever fugitive, dellocating Ennar’s head from his shoulders.

….

• Sad React: The knight raised his sword to strike Ennar when suddenly, the peasant reached for a cup of cider on the table and smashed it against the knight’s helm, thus allowing him to break free from his grip. The knight recovered quickly and lunged to attack only for Ennar to evade this too by rolling beneath a table. The knights approached from all angles, flipping his table up but he somehow managed to always avoid their attacks, as he rolled around and leapt over tables, taking advantage of the commotion caused by the other peasants at the inn who were trying to escape. One knight approached, only for Ennar to crawl between his legs, another advanced only for this peasant to grab a nearby chicken and through it in the knight’s face as he began crawling beneath the inn’s floorboards such that he could emerge on the other side. Eventually, the knights had no idea where this peasant had gone. His theatrics and the commotion caused by the other peasants had simply been too much. Ennar had escaped.

….

The knight raised his sword to strike only for Ennar to break free, going into all matters of acrobatics and trickery to evade the knights’ murderous intents. He rolled beneath tables, he crawled through legs, he donned quick disguises and he clambered up a vine onto the inn’s roof in hopes of discovering a way to escape as the 10 or so knights advanced on all sides. But there was none, his fate seemed sealed.

It was at this moment that Ennar then heard a slow clap from the benches below as Bastonne’s duke sarcastically applauded his actions before pointing downwards to suggest that Ennar was wasting time and may as well come down already. Sensing this to be true, Ennar jumped down from the roof and was instantly grabbed by his hair by one of the knights.

Bohemond: “Well done peasant, your hero would have been proud. Make him dead, Sir Darrepin.”

Sir Darrepin, a knight errant nicknamed “The Furious” by his peers, raised his longsword and swung toward Ennar. However, rather than meeting a swift end, Ennar did not die. Darrepin did as a an arrow shot through his underarm straight through his side into his heart. The knights of Bastonne turned to see where this arrow had come from and were truly shocked when they saw who it was. Mallobaude, the fallen questing knight turned Black Knight who’d sought refuge in Mousillon some years ago for his crimes, stood there wielding a repeater crossbow similar to that used by Druchii corsairs in his arms with his sword sheathed at his side and shield strapped to his back.

While the knights looked on in shock Duke Bohemond stood from his bench and proceeded to speak. « Le duc Alberic m’avait fait par de rumeurs concernant votre retour. J’ai suggéré qu’il fasse égorger ses messagers pour lui avoir menti, car je ne pensai pas que vous pourriez être si stupide. Que faites-vous ici vous, Serpent ? »

Mallobaude raised the visor from his helm to speak. «Je viens pour mon homme, relâchez-le, et je vous épargnerai.»

Bohemond erupted into glorious laughter before crying «Il semblerait que notre Chevalier Noir soit devenu fou dans ses eaux troubles. Il a rejeté la bénédiction de la Damme, et pense maintenant qu’un simple voleur sera son salut!»

All the knights joined the Duke in his laughter, going wild over such an outlandish recommendation before going silent once more when Bohemond opened his mouth once more. « Je ne pense pas que vous étés en quelque position pour faire des demandes, déserteur. »

Mallobaude calmly responded «Vous n’aviez qu’un seul avertissement. C’était ça.» before firing his crossbow off, striking another knight in the chest.

«Ca suffit! Surveillez le prisonnier. Je veux l’occire personnellement!» Duke Bohemond bellowed as he took up his Beastmace of Bastonne and charged toward Mallobaude who in turn dropped his crossbow and removed his sword and shield to fight.

• Wow React: Bohemond leapt towards Mallobaude with an immense overhead swing of his mace, smashing it against the upper edge of Mallobaude’s shield as he attempted to swing for his head. Mallobaude responded, instigating a quick thrust with his sword while Bohemond recoiled only for Bohemond to counter back by smashing in Mallobaude’s right kneecap. Mallobaude hesistated but the grail knight allowed no mercy, as he swung again this time knocking Mallobaude’s shield from his hands. The black knight returned to action, parrying the following two blows with his sword but his knee injury irreversibly affected his footwork, causing him to stumble back and lower his blocking stance just long enough for Bohemond to instil a final killing blow to the head of the treacherous knight of Mousillon.

After years beyond approach by the cold glove of justice, skulking in the undead wastes of Mousillon, the menace of the Black Knight finally subsided. Thus, the knights of Bastonne returned to their keep, with their prisoner in tow and an old crime finally settled.

• Angry React: Bohemond leapt forward and the two knights, one blessed by the Lady’s grail the other damned by its visions, engaged in mortal combat. Bohemond swung high only for Mallobaude to block that attack with his shield and counter with a sweep of his blade to the grail knight’s thigh. Bohemond regained his composure and swung once again, this time knocking Mallobaude from his feet through his immense strength. The dragon-slayer struck once more while Mallobaude was down, thrashing the black knight’s shoulderpads as he swung downwards only for Mallobaude to respond by picking his crossbow up and immediately firing a bolt into Bohemond’s groin.

Bohemond grasped between his legs for his manhood and howled in pain while his knights came to his side. Mallobaude rose to his feet and pressed on against the Duke’s underlings, besting their swordplay against as many as five combatants at once. As Mallobaude sliced his way through Bohemond’s knights Ennar managed to wriggle free from the final knight still holding him unbeknown to Mallobaude and took off running for the hills as fast as he could. Eventually the Black Knight incapacitated all of Behemond’s knights and paced over to the agonising duke who he promptly put out of his misery with a swift swipe of his sword to the neck. Of course by the time Mallobaude had finished slaughtering Behemond’s knights Ennar had long since vanished.

• Love React: Bohemond and Mallobaude crashed into one another, parrying blow after blow between each other as Bohemond’s knights came to his side to shift the balance of the battle. Yet despite this, Mallobaude maintained his presence, matching their sword strikes and even guiding them into the path of Bohemond’s mace upon occasion. As the battle raged on between Mallobaude and the knights of Bastonne Ennar attempted to break free from the grasp of the one knight still holding him by pulling out the same knife he threatened the blacksmith with and piercing it into the knight’s neck. The knight fell back and Ennar was about to take off only to be seen by the Duke who turned around and swung at him with his mace, dislocating the peasant’s left shoulder and filling the wound with burning magical energy from his weapon. Ennar fell to the ground as Bohemond prepared to finish him off, having already broken his vows once already, when Mallobaude re-entered the fight charging into Bohemond from behind shield-first to knock him aside.

Mallobaude took a quick glance at Ennar’s wound and concluded given this man’s already poor health that time would be of the essence if he were to have any chance of survival. Mousillon was almost 4 days ride from here and there was good chance that Ennar would be dead by then. Thus, Mallobaude reached down, lifted Ennar over his shoulders and carried the injured peasant over to his steed, thereby leaving Duke Bohemond and his remaining knights behind as foes to deal with on another occasion.