Knights of the Sun

The horizon is wrapped into the colors of dawn, the sun-rays hit the castle walls of the "White Mountain". Being the headquarter of the order, it was situated in the valley of ravens.

The valley was a dangerous place, home to predators and bandits, but more than that it was the passage to the outback. Only a few were in the outback and returned, those tell stories of alien Flora and strange weather conditions. It is rumored that in the outback the sun only rises three times a year.

The outback was feared as a place of terror, the root of evil. It was the holy task of the order to keep vigilant watch on the border to the outback, for that they were honored in the kingdom.

In this era, "The era of dawn" the order lost a lot of its former strength. Home to 5 batallions of 1000 men each, the order was vigilant to hold the border to the outback. That was roughly 200 years ago, today they struggle to field just one batallion. That being the result of the current era, a rather peaceful and prospering time, people have forgotten about the terrors beyond the protecting walls of the white mountain range and waived them as mere fairy-tales.

One might find truth within the archives of the order which reach back until the creation of the order itself. But even if times are rich, people are not. Only the higher privileged classes could afford it to be taught how to write and read.

With this era coming to an end, legend and myth might turn to reality again.

Back in the old days the order never was short aspirants and supplies, the number of deaths and persons leaving is greater than the persons joining the order since at least 20 years. According to the scriptures of the order it lost over 400 men in those twenty years, and only 184 joined the ranks.

The sun stands just over the horizon, lights the towers and walls of the white mountain, while the courtyard still is dark three men gather with wooden training swords in their hand. They were just old enough to be called "men", all of them only a couple of years over their 18th fulfilled year of life.

They are this years aspirants.

With their swords ready to draw, they were all looking towards a small entry into the mountain-castle.

As they were observing the passage, a faint sound echoed from within the darkness of the inner halls.

A old looking man shrouded in a large cloak joined the stage.

While some of the guardsmen on the walls were watching the spectacle the old man was heading straight for the aspirants.

Nobody spoke a word, it was forbidden to speak with each other before and during the ritual.

The old man slowly pulled back the cape of his cloak, white shoulder long hair came to surface, he also had a small white chin beard.

The tip of also a wooden sword was visible below the end of the coat.

It was clear to the aspirants what they had to do, they had to disarm their master.

The three gathered near each other with their swords drawn.

One of them was Tharsus of Yore. A young man from the small city of Yore situated in the plain-lands not far from the mountain range.

He was a simple man from simple conditions, and today he was taking the ritual as a aspirant.

He wasn't stupid though, he calculated his chances for success in these trials, overall they were fair considering his own physical condition.

He was a rather tall and due to hard farm-work, a muscular man.

The old man puts his shinbone long black cloak down from his shoulders on the dirt-patched yard, and turned sideways to the aspirants.

Acquiring a defensive-stance he rises the sword against them."Today you will be tested in various aspects, it should be clear to all of you what the first one is, begin if you dare", said the old white haired veteran in a calm sinister voice.