Magic, betrayal & vengeance collide.
In a land under siege by a relentless evil empire, a desperate mission to rescue a captured prince could save the world—or doom it.
Sword of Vengeance follows Guardian Knight Gerald Caelen as he confronts dark forces in a high-stakes race against time. As a newly sworn knight in the order once a victim of Adrian Zartun’s betrayal, Gerald must now face the immortal warrior-mage responsible for destroying his family and an entire empire.
Accompanied by wizards, warriors, and a mysterious assassin, Gerald journeys deep into the heart of the Videronian Empire to rescue Prince Richard Calladorus before he is sacrificed in a dark rite that will grant Zartun ultimate power over the mortal world.
Along the way, Gerald will battle demons, confront ancient secrets, and wield magic he barely understands, as he and his companions discover that the fate of heaven and hell itself may hinge on the success of their quest.
Magic, betrayal & vengeance collide.
In a land under siege by a relentless evil empire, a desperate mission to rescue a captured prince could save the world—or doom it.
Sword of Vengeance follows Guardian Knight Gerald Caelen as he confronts dark forces in a high-stakes race against time. As a newly sworn knight in the order once a victim of Adrian Zartun’s betrayal, Gerald must now face the immortal warrior-mage responsible for destroying his family and an entire empire.
Accompanied by wizards, warriors, and a mysterious assassin, Gerald journeys deep into the heart of the Videronian Empire to rescue Prince Richard Calladorus before he is sacrificed in a dark rite that will grant Zartun ultimate power over the mortal world.
Along the way, Gerald will battle demons, confront ancient secrets, and wield magic he barely understands, as he and his companions discover that the fate of heaven and hell itself may hinge on the success of their quest.
Night fell seemingly in the blink of an eye. The forest was oddly quiet. Moments ago, as the small patrol of armed men quietly passed along the overgrown mossy trail the thick humid air had been filled with the sound of birds chirping loudly.
Now there was only an eerie silence as a misty light rain rolled in from the direction of the towering shade of the Rastanic Mountains whose foothills were studded by pine trees that the game trail snaked back and forth between, providing scrubby woodland cover that continuously limited their view of the path ahead beyond the next turn.
A growing fog that stole in with the evening chill blowing off the mountain further obscured the winding trail. On a clear day those towering peaks stood as an easy check to where you stood in their broad shadow but now that height shortened sundown as it blotted out the light.
Five armed figures stood in the darkening woods as their leader held up a closed fist to signal a halt. The three younger ones, barely past their mid-teens crouched and shivering slightly in their rain spattered leather armor upon the signal to pause, having scorned to bring cloaks and carry extra but optional gear they likely would not need.
The storm blowing in from the mountaintop had been unexpected when they headed out the prior day, nor had they thought they would be skulking through the woods on what was originally intended as a routine training patrol. They likely regretted that choice now, but the excitement of possibly seeing real action for the first time kept them alertly focused on the woods around them.
The fourth member of the patrol was also young, but with the advantage of a few additional years giving him his full growth, stood a head taller than the excited trainees. His lean muscles tensed beneath the supple blackened chain mail of a squire as he made his way forward to join the patrol leader.
Gerald Caelen was on the cusp of being promoted to a full Guardian Knight after over a decade spent honing his skills at the profession of warfare under the tutelage of the veteran trainers and instructors who called Blade Keep home.
Scars from his childhood experience of war had driven Gerald to excel at that training with a single-minded focus on readying himself to protect those who could not protect themselves.
Gerald dropped to one knee gracefully beside the crouched and alert patrol leader, his brown eyes also scanned the dark patchy mix of woodland and increasingly present rocky outcroppings that lay ahead.
The Guardian Knight’s primary stronghold was nestled in the foothills of the rugged Rastanic mountains whose rocky heights shielded the continent’s northernmost kingdom of Talvoti’s western boundary from the insidious forces of the Greater Videronian Empire that lay beyond those mountains.
The wide moat of the Berlusian river on the opposite side of those mountains cut deeply down into the center of the continent, marking the furthest limits the older now defunct empire the knights once served reached at its peak.
As he knelt Gerald felt the pendant that symbolized his commitment to that knighthood, and their mission to protect these lands and their residents bump against his chest beneath his blackened chain mail tunic.
It was that commitment that brought them to range further from Blade Keep than a basic training patrol like this would normally venture. The night before they had planned to lodge out of the drizzling rain under the sturdy roof of a barn on a venerable family farm.
Their carefully cultivated fields marked the boundary of civilization on this side of the mountains. Beyond those fields of grain was nothing but rocky wilderness, especially this far north of the heavily patrolled ancient road that led to the single winding pass through the tall mountains to the west.
Instead of the usual warm welcome that greeted such patrols at this remote destination they had arrived to find the barn billowing smoke as the on and off drizzling rain had hampered the now merely smoldering attempt at a fire someone had set using the hastily smashed remnants of the farm’s wagon as fuel from consuming it.
To their alarm the patrol discovered the aged patriarch of the farming clan lying on the ground outside the barn badly wounded. They located his family hiding in a reinforced saferoom beneath the remnants of a scorched oaken floor in the corner of the fortunately still standing barn.
After applying what immediate aid that they could to the farmer, and hearing the family’s story the patrol leader, veteran Knight Lieutenant Arthur Covington was faced with a difficult decision.
A trio of bandits had pillaged the farm, struck down the man and attempted to seize the others. Stymied by their secure refuge beneath the barn one of the men had attempted to smoke them out while the other two gathered up what little in the way of valuables such a rustic place had and loaded the farm’s aging draft horse with those and a goodly supply of food stuffs.
The bandit’s plan to head back towards civilization with their plunder on the dirt trail that ran back towards the local market town was frustrated by seeing the unexpected approach of the armed knights, so they fled into the wilderness towards the mountains instead.
The lieutenant hated those who would prey on the innocent, as did Gerald. Nor did either of them wish to let this brutal attack go unanswered by justice.
Hearing of their narrow escape from the fearful recounting of the shaking survivors brought back memories for the young squire of his own childhood trauma. Memories he had used as fuel for his relentless focus on learning the art of war.
But this had been intended as a simple training loop out into the wilderness and back to the castle. A chance to give the boys experience in a knight’s standard patrol routine early in their training within the less perilous region at the heart of the knighthood’s presence in the northern kingdom of Talvoti.
Gerald, who was acting as Second of the unit as part of his own nearly complete education, was the only swordsman with any real skill in the group besides Covington.
The younger trainees certainly knew how to swing a sword but lacked the extensive combat training and hard-won battle experience the knights were famed for.
Going after the bandits now had real risks for those under his command. But rain and rocky soil would quickly erase any evidence of their passage if they did not pursue them promptly.
Reaching a decision Lieutenant Covington had sent the two youngest trainees sprinting back towards town to secure help for the wounded man and his family. He left two more untested but armed and armored youths to guard the farm until that help arrived.
Taking Gerald and the remaining three trainees, who Covington judged as the steadiest in nerves with him, they set out into the scrubby woodlands towards the looming mountains after the thieves. Now with night quickly falling in unfamiliar terrain he had some doubts about that decision.
Gerald whispered. “Sir?” respectfully as his eyes swiveled continuously in wide arcs scanning along the thin game trail the scattered boot and hoof prints had led them to.
The ground grew rockier ahead as it began to slant upward in the characteristic hills and rough terrain that the western and northernmost portions of the highland kingdom of Talvoti was known for before rising into jagged peaks bordering the water.
Covington pursed his lips together in thought as the two men looked at the increasingly common shadowy boulders filling the rolling hills on the opposite side of a clearing in the patchy forest they had reached.
“If I were to think of setting an ambush for pursuers, this is where I might pick.” The experienced lieutenant said softly to the squire. “Look at the tracks.”
Gerald looked down while nodding grimly. “The tracks all but end here as the ground gets much rockier. Stop any pursuit now and they’ll be free and clear.”
Covington glanced back at the eager but untried trio of boys holding razor sharp short swords and round shields at the ready behind them. “With the increasing elevation it could be they have gotten a good look at us and are willing to try these odds in the hopes of a clean escape. It is times like this I really wish I had more skill with the ancillary powers of the pendant.”
Gerald touched the pendant hanging from his own neck as he thought about it. All Guardians all the way down to senior knight candidates like him wore the silver emblem of their order around their necks on a thin blackened silver chain.
These life-magic infused pendants could not be removed while the wearer lived except by another member of the Order. It served as a small repository of magical power, slowly drawing a trickle of power into it from the natural weave of life force driven energy that filled the world linking all living things.
The pendants’ primary purpose was originally to act as keys to a system of magical portals scattered within the bounds of the old Calladorean Empire that once covered from the great Berlusian river cutting down the middle of the continent back far across to the east and south.
By means of these permanent portals historically the Guardians could quickly send knights to where they were needed across the old empire. Only sworn full members of the Order wearing a pendant could open the portals and pass through them.
Many of these portals had been destroyed over the years, but the knighthood made good use of those that remained especially in the north. With the end of his training near, Gerald was excited at the thought of soon getting to experience using the portals for himself and no longer be limited to local patrols.
The Guardian Pendants also had several lesser powers that Knights could employ. A Guardian wearing a pendant could converse with other Guardians within a hundred-foot radius telepathically by concentrating on the person they wished to communicate with.
Many modern-day Guardian Knights were like Covington and had difficulties using this ability to broadcast, so even for those who could it was thus often a neglected skill after their initial training. Supposedly in ancient days the range had been far greater, and the lieutenant would have been able to swiftly call for reinforcements directly mind-to-mind rather than having to split the party to send physical messengers.
A key benefit in their dangerous work was that the Pendants also granted the wearer a limited resistance to minor spells and harmlessly deflected several ranged attacks from missile weapons by leveraging that stored life magic to rob arrows of momentum as they drew close until the reserve of power was exhausted.
This was the most useful benefit to the modern knighthood, having proved a lifesaving advantage for more than a few knights over the years. It required concentration to work, and thus likely would play no part in an up-close confrontation of steel vs. steel with cornered bandits.
Knowledge of any other powers the pendants might have enabled was regrettably long lost in the chaos of constant battle following the widespread devastation, plagues and famine that had occurred in the early years following the great Sundering when the old empire that these rocky northern lands and the Guardian Knights themselves had once pledged allegiance to had fallen to treachery. Like many wonders of old they were now ill-understood and enshrouded by myth and speculation in these war-torn lands.
Gerald was well regarded as a swordsman, but he had also displayed a nimble mind at the more scholarly arts the knighthood sought to engrain in their trainees as well. This ran the gamut from tactics, studying the surviving fragmentary histories with his mentor, Sir Paul Elais, the knight who had found him in that ravaged village, to more recently since being promoted to senior knight candidate rank, having been training on usage of a Knight’s pendant.
Gerald responded quietly but urgently. “Lieutenant, I’ve been successful at broadcasting with the pendant in training sessions with Paul. Even if you receive it a bit garbled, I could scout ahead and send you a signal if they have an ambush laid?”
The Lieutenant stroked his short black goatee in brief thought. Caelen was a very good swordsman. Considered a prodigy of sorts with a blade, his relentless focus on martial training had many speculating he would soon be in contention for the annual Knight’s Cup once eligible.
Paul Elais had confided in the lieutenant that he worried about the longer-term effects of the survivor’s guilt that over a decade removed from the dark day his family was taken from him still relentlessly drove the young knight candidate, but it certainly had helped hone his fighting skills to a rare degree for one still a squire.
Deciding it was worth the risk Covington nodded and instructed in a whisper. “I don’t receive well either so keep it simple. No words. Just one burst of mental noise if you see them or two if safe to proceed.”
Gerald quietly scooted forward clinging to the edge of the clearing where there was some longer grass for cover for as long as possible. The lieutenant indicated for the others to be ready with a curt hand signal as his eyes remained fixed on the man-sized boulders at the far side of the clearing.
The moon was rising now, which added a bit of additional light as Gerald carefully progressed past the tall grass and continued forward at a crouch. He clutched a dagger in one hand. The blade had been blackened with an enamel coating to prevent any telltale glint of steel in the moonlight while scouting on patrol.
Lieutenant Covington slowly drew forth his own sword. A Guardian Katana. The swords were made with a design said to have come from an island far in the east long ago. They were famed as the highest quality blades on the continent. Skilled craftsmen working in forges beneath Blade Keep made them and the secrets to their construction were limited to those craftsmen.
Gerald had used a katana before. It was one of the many weapons that he had been required to practice with as a part of his training, in addition to mastering his body and his mind. But a Guardian Katana such as the one Covington held was as superior to regular katanas as they were to any ordinary blade.
The hilt was bright silver in color, the blade the ebony hue of the deepest midnight. The Knights were trained to channel their own lifeforce into the blades. This gave the strike of an empowered Guardian Katana an incredible force behind its blows with the ability to penetrate armor and even some degree of magical protection. The bright blue glow of an empowered Guardian Katana was an imposing sight that could strike fear in many opponents.
It was rumored that in the past some knights had been able to shoot bolts of energy from their blades and focus lifeforce energy through any weapon or even their bare hand. Such skills were long lost now, but to receive the coveted black bladed sword still marked the end of training and full acceptance as a Knight of the Order of the Guardians.
Now Lieutenant Covington held his katana ready in a low guard position down by his side tensed and ready awaiting Gerald’s signal. He did not empower the blade yet, as the crackling blue life force energy would give away any advantage of stealth, intimidating to a few local bandits as that sight might be.
Reaching the far side of the clearing Gerald cautiously rose from his crouch on the far-left side of the two largest boulders that sat as silent sentinels on either side of the thin remnants of the game trail that carried onward up the increasingly rocky hill. He peered around the boulder, keeping close to the fat boughs of a scrubby pine tree for some degree of cover.
The young Knight Candidate saw a glint of mail in the moonlight. On the other side of the boulder one of the bandits crouched with his back to Gerald. He was intently focused on the narrow chokepoint of the path between the boulders. Looking further the young squire observed a second bandit, this one clad in sweat-stained light leather armor, kneeling with a large axe resting on his knee in a similar position on the other side of the path.
The first bandit held a sturdy broadsword. His hand clenched and unclenched repeatedly on the basket wrapped hilt in nervous anticipation. Clearly, they had seen the same potential of this natural cover as an ambush position that the veteran eye of the Knight Lieutenant had observed.
The farmer’s family had reported three bandits however, and Gerald saw no sign of a third. That was worrisome but he needed to signal his comrades to be wary of the potential ambush ahead. Placing one hand on the pendant he focused, attempting to send across a single word to sound the alert since he was out of sight of his companions as well under the cover of the pine’s wide branches.
Most knights could receive better than they could send but Lieutenant Covington had indicated that his ability to receive messages was weak as well. Still Gerald hoped that the word “Two” would come across as more detailed than just a single burst of mental static.
It did not but the mental alert itself was enough for the experienced knight to begin to ease forward into the clearing with the three short sword wielding trainees close behind. That was when disaster struck.
As soon as Covington made it two long strides out into the mossy clearing, he discovered their opponents were more cunning than anticipated. His right foot suddenly sunk down into a knee-deep depression where a large rock had been removed with the hole then hastily covered by a concealing pile of moss. A bright pain radiated up the lieutenant’s leg as a bear trap placed within the small pit snapped shut on his ankle shattering the bone and pinning him in place.
Covington cried out instinctively. The three trainees stumbled to a halt behind him. Were it not for the powers imbued into his knightly pendant the outcome would have been even worse as the third bandit now emerged from concealment past the far-right boulder drawing back a short saddle bow and nocking a razor-tipped arrow.
The bandit let fly towards the trapped knight. Despite the pain Covington focused his attention on the deadly threat of the archer. With a brief flare of blue light visible from beneath his chainmail covered chest, his Guardian Pendant robbed the projectile of momentum before it could reach his chest.
The projectile clattered harmlessly to the ground mere inches in front of him. A second arrow, aimed now at the center of the trio of trainees behind him was likewise influenced in flight by proximity to Covington’s pendant as it passed by him, and likewise fell to the ground by the trapped knight.
“Stay behind me and beware the archer.” Covington said through gritted teeth as he raised his Guardian Katana. As he fed life energy into it the black blade blazed with an incandescent blue light.
Combined with the magically deflected arrows this sight would deter many inexperienced foes and might set them to withdraw but these men appeared to be made of tougher stuff than the cowards who typically preyed on the weak with banditry.
The archer maintained his position. He held a third arrow nocked and ready in case he saw a clear shot past the wounded knight. This deterred the junior trainees from advancing as they lacked the protection of a pendant. The bandit’s two companions burst forth from their hiding places with wild battle cries charging forward to join the assault.
The leather armored axe wielder was a big man with a wild scruffy black beard and a shaved head covered in old scars. He held the axe with the casual familiarity of long use. Moving much more swiftly than such a large man might be expected to, he charged forward clearly intending to finish off the trapped knight so the archer could then dispose of the boys bunched up behind him from a distance.
The third bandit had a greasy look to him, with dirty blond hair and was clad in ill maintained rust spotted chainmail. He was slower than his companion but began to follow him across the clearing with a wickedly sharp broadsword at the ready in front of him.
As the final bandit took a few steps past the boulders Gerald reacted. Drawing forth the saber sheathed at his side in his left hand while retaining the dagger in his right Gerald burst from the cover of the sheltering pine as the man passed by.
The archer spotted the movement and cried out in warning, but Gerald was already upon the blond warrior. Coming up from behind he drove his dagger into an unarmored neck above the protection of his mail shirt. Blood spurted around the wound as the bandit dropped like a stone.
The axman glanced behind him, but it was too late for him to turn back as he was already within arm’s reach of the wounded but still deadly Covington. The glowing blade was everywhere it needed to be in defense even at the disadvantage of lacking mobility. Sparks flew as the first flurry of rapid strikes from the mighty war axe were repelled by the flat of the twirling katana.
As the light of the glowing sword confirmed that the ground hadn’t been disturbed to the left of the trap, one of the trainees boldly moved forward on Covington’s left side and now the giant had his hands full with two swords to deal with. Adding a less experienced but mobile second opponent robbed him of any advantage.
The archer wavering indecisively for a moment between the cluster of battling men shielded by the knight’s pendant and the rapidly approaching Gerald Caelen, before self-preservation won out over covering his ally and the bow turned towards the saber wielding immediate threat.
Gerald closed in quickly but not fast enough that the archer didn’t get a shot off from his ready bow before he was forced to drop it and draw a blade of his own to meet the charging squire. The arrow clattered harmlessly to the ground as Gerald focused so that his own pendant flared protectively for the first time, then they were engaged blade to blade.
The bandit took two steps back as their swords clashed together to absorb the impact of the charge then tried to advance again to drive Gerald back. His off hand emerged from his cloak with a dagger which he held ready for any opening as his slender rapier beat away at the sturdy slightly curved saber the young knight candidate wielded.
It was all the man could do to prevent his own rapid demise as Gerald’s superior skill quickly shifted him back onto the defensive. The bandit retreated a step then another step. He grimacing as a swift slice of the saber almost took his arm off at the wrist. Only a continued retreat saved him, but this side of the clearing was enclosed by rock and pine as well, so the young knight’s opponent was rapidly running out of room as he was forced back towards the leafy tree.
In the tree’s shadow away from where the others fought under the bright blue glow of the Guardian Katana, visibility was worse. As he parried the next strike the bandit attempted to stab Gerald in the stomach with his dagger. Gerald twisted aside from the dagger strike. With an instinctive twirl of his own blade, he struck the rapier firmly from the bandit’s grasp.
Holding now only his small dagger, the man paused for a second as if considering surrender then made one last attempt to charge. Gerald’s sword struck true. The bandit toppled to the ground and lay still.
Pausing only to kick away the small blade from a limp hand while double checking that the wound had been fatal, Gerald spun and prepared to aid his fellows. There was no need, however, as by removing the threat of the archer the other trainees were able to come to the lieutenant’s aid. Four swords made short work of one axe.
One of the trainees knelt beside the lieutenant examining the improvised trap. He placed a hand on his leg and spoke to Covington as Gerald approached. “A hunter’s bear trap. My family were hunters and trappers in the woodlands a week’s ride to the north and east of here. I’ve seen these before. Nasty things. Your leg is broken, Sir. We’ll need to put pressure on the wounds when we release the trap.”
“Do it.” A white-faced Covington ordered then turned to Gerald. “You took two of them Knight Candidate. Well done. When we return to the castle I’ll sign off as the second sponsor for you to complete the tests for knighthood. Valor in the field is one of the traditional ways to go from squire to knight after all.”
Covington winced again as the woods savvy trainee returned with a thick stick in hand but nodded at him. Gerald and one of the other trainees stood ready with hastily ripped clean cloth ready as bandages while he poked the stick down into the mechanism of the trap probing for a release lever.
When he prodded the right spot, the trap sprung open. Covington immediately cried out in pain. The final trainee splashed the wound with wine from a ready canteen to sanitize it then they applied the makeshift bandages tightly.
Once it was clear that the bandages would hold, although he wouldn’t be putting any weight on that ankle anytime soon, Covington tasked two of the trainees to search out a longer sturdy branch to use as a crutch.
Gerald and the third trainee dragged the other two bodies over by the fallen axman and the resting lieutenant then built up a quick campfire for light and heat against the evening chill.
Covington supervised under the glow of the fire as they searched the remains of the bandits. After finding only some coin and small valuables they also discovered that while their armor and outer clothes varied all three men wore sturdy brown trousers underneath of a sturdy woven wool and had wide black leather belts cunningly designed to hold an array of weapons and small equipment.
Covington grunted, unsurprised by what they found. “Videronian army uniforms or what’s left of them. Either deserters or perhaps assigned to create trouble up here in Talvoti while their armies focus on the central kingdoms that lack the natural barriers of our mountains.”
Gerald responded “More likely deserters turned bandit, no? Else why look to strike so close to the stronghold of the knights?”
“Perhaps.” The lieutenant responded with a wince as he shifted position a bit. “Devious are the minds that lead that dark empire and its armies. It could be that striking the helpless within an easy ride of our keep was the point. We’ll never know now.”
The two trainees appeared at the far side of the clearing, one carrying a stout stick and the other leading the heavily laden missing farm horse behind him. “She was hitched to a tree just a little past their ambush point.” He reported.
Covington nodded. “Bandits down and the farm’s supplies recovered. You all did well. We will camp here tonight then meet those who are no doubt coming to assist us on the trail in the morning. Caelen and I will take first watch while you dispose of the bodies.”
The grisly reminders of their first fight were dragged to the far side of the clearing then the three now blooded in battle knight trainees soberly set to dig a hole to bury them in.
Gerald fed more pine branches into the crackling fire and checked to see if the lieutenant required anything beyond the reinforcing draughts of whiskey he had already downed from a medicinal flask. Shaking his head the older man settled himself in more comfortably by the fireside while Gerald wiped clean his saber and laid it at the ready on the ground by his side as he sat down across from him.
“You are ready to be a knight, Gerald.” Covington said. “I’ve no doubt you’ll pass the traditional three days of testing with ease when we return to Blade Keep. Your family would be proud, had they lived to see this day.”
Gerald wiped a single tear from his eye at the thought as he nodded. His youthful vow as a six-year-old child in the ashes of a dying town drove him still. It had driven him to a relentless focus through over ten years of martial training as he sought to prevent others from facing such terror and looked to the time when he could do his part to stand and fight.
“Your mentor, Sir Elais and I spoke when you were assigned to serve as my second for this local patrol.” Covington continued as the potent alcohol dulled his pain but loosened his tongue. “I know of your skill with a blade of course, and you certainly demonstrated it under pressure today, but he does fear you push yourself too hard at times. Once you receive your black blade and your pendant is linked to it and fully empowered, you’ll be assigned to more far-reaching patrols via the portals. Or perhaps to one of the border fortifications.”
Gerald nodded respectfully. His eagerness to serve as a full knight warred with the somber reminders currently being buried a short distance away of having now experienced the reality of killing in defense of the innocent.
Lieutenant Covington fixed him with a firm gaze. “We protect the free people wherever we can much as we were once tasked to send knights via those portals to sites at points of interest across the Calladorean Empire at its height. Ancient ruins, key military strongholds, treasured relics, and other locations the knighthood had been tasked with guarding. Since the Sundering many portals have been destroyed by Zartun’s roving forces, so their benefits have become more limited over time, but they still enable us to cover quite a bit of ground. Enjoy victories small and large when they come. The farmers we saved will be as excited that we recovered their stolen belongings as a king of old might be over enemies slain in defense of some object of power. People matter. Those we protect and those you serve alongside.”
Gerald asked “Why don’t we make greater use of the portal network in the other parts of the old Calladorean Empire lieutenant? Those border forts you mentioned increasingly are being attacked further and further to the east rather than guarding the edge of the western foothills where they were once concentrated. From the maps we have studied in Sir Elais’s classroom the northern free lands now extend several hundred miles further west than to our south with much of the old central kingdoms of Callador and Calay now firmly under Zartun’s control.”
Covington’s eyes were beginning to close with adrenaline fading away while wine and wounds conspired to wear away his strength. “Your friend Dell and I have debated that many a night. We are hard pressed to protect Talvoti as a haven for refugees from this endless war. He is much more impatient than you and argues we should bring the war to our enemies. Perhaps we should, but old legends and fears are stronger in the central kingdoms and the common folk aren’t always as welcoming of knights.”
Gerald nodded. “The abuses of mind magic at the old empire’s peak. I suppose our pendants and the ability to speak mind to mind within the Order of Guardians remind them of that?”
Covington nodded. “Limited though those abilities may be today. We have some allies in the central lands our leaders keep in touch with. Zartun’s forces spread fear and prejudice. Unfortunately, the divisions created by those are hard weapons to combat with a blade.”
Gerald nodded somberly. His adventures as a knight were just beginning. His idealism was tempered by his youthful experience with Zartun’s raiders, but he burned with the need to make a difference. To make those deaths meaningful.
As the other trainees returned from burial detail to take on the second watch Gerald lay under his blanket and tried to relax his mind. The younger trainees were quiet. The battle made the basic training they had completed so far seem less a exciting promise of future adventures. They had seen their first taste of the reality of battle. Kill or be killed was not a game however brave a face they put on.
The two dead bodies of men he himself had slain now buried a short distance away and the lieutenant’s tales of the broader war confirmed for Gerald the cold reality of being a warrior. His past had always ensured he didn’t generally think of it in the same terms as the other trainees did. But it was still the right thing to do.
To become a knight meant to be a protector. He looked forward to being able to stand up for those who could not protect themselves from such evil.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Ah now, here’s a tale that gallops in with all the fury of a charging warhorse. Sword of Vengeance begins not with a whisper but a blood-soaked cry for vengeance that echoes through the ruined remnants of a once-peaceful village. It’s a fierce, uncompromising story that plunges us straight into a world torn asunder by war, sorcery, and ancient betrayal.
At its heart is young Gerald Caelen, a boy orphaned by unspeakable evil, found trembling amidst death and horror by a band of Guardian Knights. His vow for vengeance isn’t mere childish defiance—it’s a prophecy of the warrior he will become. And like Jon Snow or young Robb Stark, there’s a sense that this lad is bound for more than just sword drills and border patrols.
The lore is thick and plentiful: immortal knights, demonic empires, ancient magical pendants, and the ruins of the once-glorious Calladorean Empire. There are echoes of A Song of Ice and Fire in the political tensions and mythic ruins, but there’s a noble optimism in Gerald that feels more Arthurian than Westerosi. The knights here are protectors, wearers of black not for fear, but for duty—and that lends a rare clarity to the moral landscape, at least for now.
The writing is vivid, action-packed, and admirably unafraid to go full epic. The language occasionally leans a bit into the grandiose (“the traitorous adept Zartun,” “portal between worlds,” etc.), but that’s par for the course in epic fantasy. And in fairness, it suits the tone. This isn’t gritty realism; it’s heroic legend-making—something closer to Beowulf by way of Dragonlance.
Still, there's meat here, not just style. The battle scene at the farm ambush is well choreographed, the magical pendant system shows thoughtful world-building, and Gerald is already a character we root for.